#Gender neutral reader

[n0rmal-cat]

Alien pet thoughts

[oh to be held safe and sound]

Alien leader who has a husband that is the embodiment of “dad who didn’t want dog”

He glares at his spouse and you while you cuddle together as they work.

“We don’t need a pet you know, we have enough to do already” he says crossing his arms. “But look how weak they are we can’t let them go” he just grumbles back.

Reader is kinda scared of him, one day they know he’s just gonna pick them up and throw them off the ship into the vacuum of space.

One day leader yan asks their husband to watch over reader for a while as they do work. Their husband reluctantly agrees saying “fine but don’t expect me to baby the damn thing”

Cue leader coming back to their husband dressing reader like the little model they are and pampering them with kisses as they squirm around in his arms.

“Honey you didn’t tell me the little thing was this cute~”

“Yes I did, multiple times in fact…dear they appear to be biting you”

“Don’t worry, I’ve learned that’s how humans express love”

“I don’t think…well at least you don’t look like you want to murder them anymore”

[kalims]

⭒ㅤwhose (not) random kid

premise. crash landing from the future is apparently your kid, not that you know that anyway... in the form of a mixture between you, and your... supposed counterpart, clues are bound to pile up as to whose child this is.

parts. rosehearts, kingscholar, ashengrotto, al asim, schoenheit, shroud, draconia

cont. gender neutral reader, use of 'mada' which is just 'mama' and 'dada' cut in half for our resident shrimp (aka yuu), a yummy 5.8k words that I did not expect to get this long lol

note. I only have a rough outline of what's going to be included with the others parts after the names of the kids lol. I'll probably write leona's as usual after this but I can't promise I'll release one more part after his this month, the rest will probably come next month considering I'm bombarded sadge. paper defense, then final exams next month save me

also hello! my unnofficial: I'll try to post more

late edit: comment if you want to get tagged <3

riddle

when you slid a foot over the portal to heartslabyul there’s some sort of a strange–inexplicable air that surrounds it. usually the dimension is light to be in, unlike the tingling feelings of being in octavinelle or the eeriness of ignihyde. all dormitories had their own particular sensation that weighs on you depending on where you were.

you squinted, deciding to shrug it off. there was no way you had a sixth sense for feeling in the literal air!

barely a foot in though, was something you could only explain as an army of card… soldiers trudging from the other end of the sidewalk to the next. dumbly, you stopped right in front the shimmering portal that settles into a smooth sheen of silver behind you as they just kept coming.

they seemed to be looking for something–or whatever but you don’t really want to know what so you slowly inched to the side, hoping to sneak past them even if you had to go into one of the confusing mazes (which was a struggle considering you’re trying not to laugh as one of them trips).

must be ace’s wretchedness rubbing off of you.

the real question was, where in the seven were your resident idiots? you’d already sent a text over for your impromptu visit to the chat consisting of you three and figured they had seen it like they usually do then waited for you with feigned begrudging-ness that does not fit well with them showing up in the first place. 

you fish for your sad excuse for a phone in your pocket, cater’s words not yours. you’re more busy trying to merge your backside as you shuffle and pull up the chat to notice the ever nearing edge of the hedge wall that makes you stand out in comparison to the lighter shade of green brushing against your uniform.

not deuce: you guys ever notice the card soldiers infestation near ur mirror portal…?

not ace: you nedea to RNR RUN RN!!

not yuu: what???

there’s not much time to ponder about the cryptic, seemingly panicked expression of deuce’s message as you looked up from your phone, feeling a slight chill crawl up to your spine like you attracted some sort of unwarranted trouble that is also unwanted.

disclaimer: you (uu) did

“over here!” an unfamiliar voice yells, freezing you in your tracks just when you were about to make the sneak of the century. without a moment’s hesitation you darted deeper into the maze and shoved your device within the confines of your pockets as you held in a mortified scream at the sudden mob upon your tail as you ran.

WHY WAS THERE SO MANY? you yelled in your mind. number one rule in horror games don’t look back. don’t look back. don’t look back–

oh sevens you’re looking back.

the decision immediately fills you with regret when you spot the diabolical amount of card soldiers trailing after you like you just slaughtered their queen in front of whatever kingdom they came from! was this someone’s unique magic? there was no way riddle would let this sort of thing go rampant on his dorm!

you almost keel over in shock when the pointy end of a heart on the end of a pole sticks right on the patch of grass you just barely managed to trudge across with increasingly heavier steps. maybe you should actually take jack’s offer to join track and field–your stamina is horrible–you’re gonna get stabbed.

goodbye world. you thought warmly with a chorus of pants.

a deeper voice bellowed from the crowd from your behind. “three of hearts! are you thin-headed? do not harm the majesty!” the steps behind you stop almost abruptly, and you don’t stop running even as the voices fade. idiots for choosing to chastise their idiotic comrade but you’re not complaining as long as you get away from this horrid situation.

your majesty what now?

you don’t know how far you ran by sticking to all left turns until you flop down on the entrance of the maze, the archway barely offering you any relief as you took deep breaths and fought the urge to lay down on the grass and hope it camouflages your grey uniform.

that won’t work but you’re coping at this point.

not deuce: HELLO  I ALMOST GOT SKEWERED BY LITERAL CARDS?

not yuu: that’s a humiliating way to go down from

not ace: don’t be insensitive ace! are you ok?!

not deuce: NO? WHAT IS GOING ON

not yuu: riddle got dethroned and i'm not even happy

not yuu: it's the absolute WORST AT THE DORM!

not yuu: you better turn back rn and get away from ‘labyul coz it’s getting run by a kid

not deuce: BACK INTO THAT DEATH MOB? no thanks

not ace: yuu brace up, cater texted that the new boss is on his way to you

not yuu: F for yuu

not ace: F

not deuce: F u

what you expect to be the final boss of your life, you guess from the approaching pairs of footsteps nearing your defeated form sprawled across the flecks of grass and still heaving comes in a surprising form of softness, and youth.

“mada.” 

the blueness of the sky is shadowed by a tiny little head peering over your head. you’re startled by the tuff of red hair, and familiar pair of eyes which was strange, considering you have never seen this kid in your life. this was the new queen of heartlsabyul? you thought incredulously, since when were kids allowed in nrc…?

the thought was a breeding ground to raise the most evil person on the planet, considering the equally as evil people in night raven.

out of habit from the familiar chubby, round face you blurted: “riddle?”

the child blinked before they shook your head. “I am not papa.” their lips twitched into a small smile directed to you. if taken a closure look, this child’s resemblance with riddle really is uncanny. from the hair, even to a small golden crown sitting primly on the middle of their head. “mada, I am glad I found you. I have not seen papa yet.”

was this season 5 of stranger things?

they straightened. attention straying from you as you glanced to the other pairs of legs, whom you put a face to quickly. trey and cater both cast you a look of exasperation and pity.

then done like a true riddle–their face does a complete 360 and curls into anger as they stared off inside the maze. “all of you!” the tiny child rages with a concerning… change of color around their cute face, fingers pointed accusingly. how can a child be so horrifyingly scary?

the two third years do not mirror your confusion as you sat up, following the kid’s gaze to the archway where a myriad of thundering footsteps almost have you scampering away if not for them laying a small hand on your shoulder and somehow managing to ground you to stay still.

whose kid is this? you looked to cater who shakes his head uselessly

then to trey who wore a resigned smile.

the child’s brow twitches when the card soldiers lined up obediently. “I thought I had made it clear you not hurt mada.” they seethed, voice tilting in clear threat and a I demand you! sort of way. the card solider, three of hearts who had scared the living soul out of you trembled less subtle compared to the other guards.

of course this child had to get more terrifying by being observant, they caught the shiver of one soldier and narrowed their eyes. “ah, found the culprit. three of–”

trey shuffles forward with an awkward laugh that belies his usual laid back with–on his face is a twinge of concern as he raises his palms in a placating gesture. he steps forward three more times, sliding between the child and the line of soldiers but keeping the distance warily. “hey, kid. maybe we can discuss this with some tarts, and some tea?” he tries. children love sweets, right?

they keep their head level despite the astounding height difference. “I told you, uncle trey! being called ‘kid’ is disorderly! It's alice!” still, despite the brief protest their eyes sparkled with interest at the notion, even if they seemed a bit embarrassed to admit it. “i’m not supposed to eat sweets on mondays.” 

“huh.” cater mumbled before the thin line of his lips rose into a familiar grin. “as in, rule 102 of the queen?” he queries with a nervous slide of his fingers through his hair. he’s not so obvious to directly state that he’s tiptoeing around… alice but a bit of months knowing him, you can tell.

alice nods along. they no longer look as bothered as before, the card soldiers all slump their tense shoulders a little when alice shifts their piercing gaze from the three of hearts before settling onto cater, who they offer a brief nod of agreement before returning back to trey.

well, a kid is a kid. 

“but i can eat sweets on tuesdays.” they added hastily. like they don’t want the notion of trey’s treats slipping from their fingers but that would be strange, if the look of confusion you three share with each other you would have thought trey had initially baked for alice based off the tone of wistfulness in their tone.

trey smiles at them. “tomorrow it is.” reassured by their sheepish innocence he stops in front of them and grasps their shoulders, turning them away from the stiff soldiers. alice spares a brief glance at them. “what about these rule breakers?”

you stood up fully. “uh, don’t worry, they didn’t do anything wrong. i ran for too long.” you supplied in defense. if anything , a resemblance to riddle of all people meant that they could have the head offing in their blood. you did not want to stick around to find out, neither did cater.

alice considers you for a moment with a small sparkle in their eyes, with a wave of the small wand that maternalized in their hand, the soldiers fade into glittering spots of gold. only then do they let trey lead them back to the main pathway towards the dormitory of heartslabyul.

you fall into step behind cater who probably sees the question in your eyes so he lowers his voice discreetly, glancing at the back of trey who keeps the child’s bay attention so they don’t notice you two slowing down a little. nonetheless, still walking.

“that was little alice’s unique magic.” he says to you with a shrug, sighing after a glance at the former’s small, regal form. “pretty overpowered… kind of like my split card but less cute, and more dangerous.”

he winked, you frowned.

in front of you two, alice seems tame in comparison to the subtle bribing of trey questioning about their favorite sweets as you all finally reached the nearing entrance of the main dormitory

“where’s riddle?” you questioned.

he pursed his lips, navigating though the fountain in front of the dorm. “last i know, he went out early to campus cause of a meeting with his club for the upcoming NRC tour festival…” 

oh, right. I have not found papa. alice’s voice echoes in your mind, so you echo the question that appears in your mind right after the memory. “alice called riddle ‘papa’ which i’m pretty sure is a term for a parent…” you trailed off. riddle seemed to be the least likely person to have a secret love child of some sorts, he seemed like he had most of his life planned out.

if riddle bent over backwards for his rules then he wouldn’t stray from the path he had set.

there’s a flash of interest in cater’s eyes, it was already there before, just dwindled. you watch it spark to life. akin to lighting some sort of fire within the guy, a gossipmonger at heart as he leaned in eagerly just as you both trudged up the stairs to the front doors who opened politely, and closed behind you as you walked in the main hall of heartslabyul.

“they look, and act like riddle!” he chuckles. “imagine our shock when alice popped up straight out of nowhere with an army at their beck and call.” cater clutched onto his arms, and shivered. you leaned away when he reaches his arms out to you in a teasing manner.

he adds. not at all offended by the way you scrunch your face at his ‘affections’. “they seem to listen to you though. like someone.”

you only regard him with an impassive raise of your brows. “i don't think so. riddle doesn’t listen to anyone. much less me.” befuddled by the mere idea, you scoffed. in all your magic-less glory, the best thing you might have achieved here in this other dimension was having the ability to wake leona kingscholar up from one of his power naps.

cater doesn’t seem to agree. only sighing at you from what it seems to be an of course. “only you can be so oblivious to the chaos you leave behind.” he says in response, making an exaggerated show of peering behind your shoulder and widening his eyes in feigned shock.

you humor him as you turned your head. the scene of the main entrance of the dormitory was the only answer to your eyes as you both walked into the living room–where little alice sits alone. you caught a glimpse of trey’s dark hair as he disappeared into the kitchen, most likely going off to make her a treat.

vaguely unsure if the male had heard him, cater calls out a “make us some too!”

“not my fault the students here are so… unstable.” you remarked with a roll of your eyes. remembering the overblots to be the most plausible reference to the chaos cater was talking about as you begrudgingly sat down on the couch and reeled in any other remarks for the child in the room.

who was now shuffling closer to your seated frame even if they thought they were being subtle in the movement.

what was two seats in the space between you and alice eventually became none at all, as they settled beside you and peered up with innocent eyes.

you tilted your head at them, alice copies the movement.

then to the other side.

they mirror the lull of your head.

“besides those.” cater cleared his throat after a bewildered glance at the child. “what’s more impressive is that you’re still here, yuu-yuu. night raven is like… a pack of wolves trying to run you off crying, and you? you’re a very weird sheep.”

still a bit enraptured on this child, you replied without your stare wavering from the roundness of alice’s cheek as you reached up to pinch it. to yours, and cater’s surprise. their previous cute ferociousness is not present at all as they leaned against the warmth as though instinctive. “i didn’t do anything.”

you don’t entertain the accusing look in cater’s eyes.

“if that was you not trying to beast tame the school then i don’t know what’ll happen if you put in the effort.”

you both lapse into silence as cater–who seemed to sense the finality of the conversation lets it slip fully and instead, busies himself with the entertainments his phone provided. you redirect your full attention onto the elusive red-headed alice.

“so,” you started. “how did you end up here? must be a great feat if you were able to go past the barriers.”

alice curls their fingers within the fabric of your blazer, inspecting it as they reply softly. “i’m not sure, mada. i was just sleeping, and woke up in a garden. the hedgehogs showed me the way after i offered them a caterpillar.” they do not mention a bleary moment in their sleep where they curiously wondered how you and riddle came to be as they drifted off. “as pertaining by rule 210… if you are lost in a maze, give the hedgehogs an offering and they shall show you the way.”

you can’t help but let your mind drift over to riddle, who echoes the rules to be followed when mentioned.

your lips twitch into a smile, much to the delight of alice. “strange indeed. must have been scary.”

their eyes squinted. “i’m not scared.”

you chuckled and pinched their cheek. they pout.

“where are you from?” you ask instead, wanting to know more about the.. figurative alice from nowhere. 

alice looks at you strangely.

“from the queendom of roses…” could they simply be a relative of riddle’s? you thought mindlessly. drawing your fingers through the surprising soft red locks who seemingly part eagerly for your touch. “with my mada, and my papa. sometimes my uncles visit.”

unsure of how to reply, you merely nod along. parting their hair by half and twisting it into a braid. “you called me mada.” you hummed.

“because you are my mada.”

she says like it’s the only thing that makes sense in her small world, not relinquishing her grip on your blazer but instead tugging at the wrists to expose the small slither of skin and hold onto it. clingy. you thought, deciding not to question it.

… was this your freaking kid?

the smell of strawberries wafts over the space of the living room alongside the ticking of the oven–momentarily taking both alice, and cater’s attention. the latter stretches before standing to stride over to the source of the smell, no doubt requesting trey to change the taste once more.

alice’s eyes, like yours slid to your own. a bit shy in their demeanor as they clutched onto the skin of your wrist. “can i eat some of uncle’s tarts?” they queried under your breath, only meant for you alone. you felt a bit confused but nodded nonetheless. 

their lips twitched into an eager smile before it settles into a more controlled look of impassiveness.

that was adorable. you thought, unable to resist leaning down to scoop them into your arms as you stood. alice makes a sound of brief surprise before their arms loop around your neck. they sat pliantly still as you walked over to follow cater inside the kitchen, catching a glimpse of your scent that they sought for, so alice nuzzles their face into the warm pulse on your neck.

trey glances up from the animated retelling of cater about the crazy day. “new responsibility?” he wore a humored smile, apron long discarded and folded over the handle of the oven for the meantime.

if riddle saw this, he would not believe it no matter how intelligent he was. trey deduced.

he gestures to the tray set on the counter. “there’s frosted strawberries, blueberry cornmeal, and the good old mont blanc since i got left over ingredients from the last unbirthday party.” 

alice feels the shift of your head as you glanced down at them, they don’t remove their head from the crevice of your neck for a moment and meets your eyes with a raise of their own. “frosted strawberries, please.”

“good choice, little alice.” cater comments.

“careful, it’s hot.” trey chided gently as he watched you pick up one of them, drawing it near alice’s waiting hunger as they tilted their head up from your shoulder. they took a small bite at the corners of the tart, smiling at the taste and only wider when you wiped remnants of crumbs around the edges of their mouth.

alice chews, and swallows before they spoke again. their eyes gleaming with admiration as they stared at trey. “it’s always the yummiest when it’s fresh out the oven.” they recited.

trey blinks.

“you’re a bright one.” he remarked, ruffling their hair when he drew near. “don’t tell anyone about the wicked secret ‘round the kitchen, all right?”

they nodded vigorously. “thank you, uncle..” they spewed politely, but evidently genuine.

cater munches from the other end of the counter. “we gotta protect alice,” he chuckled, eyes crinkling as he pointed his phone to you, tapping to snap a picture of the scene despite your warning stare. “too nice for the vultures we call students here.” 

“you might be right.” trey shook his head, and you nodded mutely. more absorbed into letting them take bite by bite into the tart until it was about finished halfway. only then do you lay it back on the tray. how much sweets was ideal for a child to take anyway? regardless of you deeming it as enough, alice stays quiet and does not complain.

if they wanted more, you wouldn’t know.

“later.” you promised, leaning back when you were satisfied with their prim appearance. a pat of their hair to smooth down trey’s earlier disruption.

“later..” alice echoed. 

a resident third year enters the kitchen. only to pause in their tracks and back away.

“domesticity is really the enemy of the students here.” cater sniffed, earning a chuckle from trey who found the comment funny. “imagine being happy, being broody and emotional are the real requirements to get admitted.”

cater finishes his snack with a pleased hum, and a grateful nod to trey. “by the way i messaged adeuce, sent them to stall dorm leader from going back as long as the dorm was… kind of in a wre–predicament.” he cleared his throat, casting a brief glance at alice to spot if they had taken offence to his almost uttered word.

“so now they’re en-route?” trey guessed, transferring the leftover tarts to a glass bowl. leaving the tray in the sink to wash for later. cater nods in response, typing on his phone with one hand. likely in cahoots with the two right now. “told them the coast was clear! no more trampling soldiers scampering around.”

trey eyed him. “what about the–”

just then, whatever trey was going to comment in rebuttal of cater’s easy reassurance was promptly interrupted by new individuals peeking inside. ace, and deuce poked their heads from the corner. as if trying to ascertain the danger level of whatever may be inside.

ace rougly nudges deuce when he spots you with a child in arms. for two people insisting on their unique, varying selfs. they mirror each other’s look of bewilderment as though their brain cells crackled and connected into a singular one. “what the seven?” ace mouthed.

you all do not notice the look of familiarity on alice’s face.

nor the brightening when riddle strides in with a petulant huff,

if riddle thought strangely, or disapproved of the two’s behavior then he wouldn’t have had the chance to comment on it before he was leveling trey with a sharp, inquisitive stare. “i would like a very good explanation as to why my hedges have been mangled to the ground.” his eye twitches with the effort of containing irritation. “three hours i’ve been gone. three! and when i enter heartslabyul the first thing i see is devastation upon my gardens!”

perhaps emotionally, riddle cried out in the last sentence.

even though such an expression should have frightened a child to some degree, alice relaxes in your arms but their face clouds in shame at his voice.

riddle whirls back to the other two lingering by the doorway who both flinches imperceptibly–cater tries to intercept with a nervous chuckle but is only met with a steely don’t even start! “ace, and deuce have me running around the school. saying something about yuu getting kidnapped by those.. vermin excuses of… students from octavinelle!" riddle seethed, breathing still a bit labored as favor of his statement about running around.

“dorm leader!” ace stood straight stiffly.

oh, did he just come from a frantic search in octavinelle?

“i even had to threaten collaring azul who i thought was lying about yuu.” with a deep intake of air, riddle breathes out and pinches the bridge of his nose, collecting his temper. much to the chagrin of deuce.

“we apologize.” deuce added sadly.

cater feigns ignorance by looking away but it’s trey’s look that has him adding to the defense of the two, rather than using the opportunity to scamper away with his head in tact. “ahem… we had these two keep you busy. so don’t be too harsh on them, riddle. us upperclassmen will take responsibility.”

a nod of agreement from trey gets riddle quiet.

the former tilts his chin to you. “yuu is fine, they’re right here.”

like he hadn’t even noticed before (he really didn’t), riddle’s head snaps to you immediately. his eyes would have been stuck to you, prodding for a valid explanation to your ignorance to his angry calls but instead, settles on the bundle in your arms.

“who…” a blink. “why in the world do you have a child! they are not welcome on school grounds! especially this time in the school year–.” riddle sputtered, instinctively sauntering over to take a closer look at alice who only stared without an inch of fear.

“papa.” they mumbled, voice measured but still echoing in the now quiet kitchen.

ace leapt up to your side. “that’s not right!” he gasped, squinting dangerously at riddle. any traces of earlier mortification gave way to whatever emotion he’s got on his face. “how could you sully yuu! they’re not a babysitter for your kid!” 

“what?” riddle seethed, head flicking from ace, to you, then to alice.

despite a look of great reluctance, deuce nods from the doorway still. mumbling to himself. “dorm… dorm leader has a child…”

you vaguely remember trey offering the dazed guy a glass of water.

“unconfirmed earlier, confirmed now.” cater adds unhelpfully to the blazing fire of riddle’s rising anger.

riddle’s teeth grind together, jaw clenching as his fingers tightened into a fist. it was more of one his attempts at calming down rather than preparation for a physical alteration. “I did no such–!”

“don’t be mad at mada.” alice reaches for him, tugging at his blazer which surprisingly, quells the reddening of his face. now, he just looks a bit confused.

alice turns their head slightly. “mada, you can calm down papa.”

deuce paused before dropping to the ground.

“AH! he’s dead. this is why you don’t betray us by keeping secrets, yuu!” 

“uh oh… trey help me with deuce… wait, should we just leave him? i mean, he’ll be just fine here, right?”

“... just take the other arm, cater.”

all the way back to the living room, riddle’s face remained tinged with warmth. alice, while reluctant to part with your embrace, seemed wholly pleased to stay by the other red-heads' side. insisting you sit next to him when you moved to sit by your two friends.

you obliged them despite riddle’s interest with the carpet.

the couch dipped at the weight of another. even so, the non-verbal conversation between alice, and riddle continued. the former pressed their lips together thinly, seemingly assessing the… youthfulness of the latter. they aren’t so used to this kind of look from him.

cater flinched, and look away from the flash of his phone. he elbows a dazed deuce.

“so,” ace cleared his throat, blinking his still wide eyes. “who the heck is this kid?!”

“language.” riddle chided sharply. though softened from its usual end even he isn’t so sure why it is from the mere presence of alice alone. 

“rule 13, always present yourself with appropriate language.”

“always present yourself with appropriate language.” alice repeated.

riddle squinted at a relaxed alice, who tilts their head as if to ask ‘what?’.

“genetics is crazy. what’s next, the kid beheads us too?” ace points between the two. 

alice shrugged. “only if you break the rules.”

“i do not have a child!” riddle protested.

“i am your child.” replied alice.

“apparently this one’s our kid.” you agreed begrudgingly.

riddle stares at you with a mixture of disbelief, and confusion.

darting between you and the kid like they're gonna start collating him in all his glory! sure, alice had red hair like him but quite a lot of people in the island have it too besides his relatives. the idea of… of him and you is just so out of this world that he can't wrap his head around it.

you? you who he hadn't paid attention to when you arrived at the ceremony? the very first person in that event that broke the rules? you, the very fading into the background student whom he believed to be a bad influence to his students ace, and deuce? 

you he had almost hurt beyond repair at the bursting of his control so tightly held in his hands?

the brief skip of his heart when your eyes meet over the head of alice is enough to send blood rushing to his head, coloring it with his signature red whose warmth doesn't feel like the usual simmering anger he struggles to keep submerged. if anything, this feeling is practically leaping out the water and baring his face to everyone. 

riddle does not look away. managing a look of what he tries to name as conviction but easily crumbles to fluster.

then the idea wasn't so bad considering this young child has proved to be raised dutifully, correctly without any worries of what he used to be burdened with as a child.

it gives way to curiosity. 

despite his incredulously, riddle queries. “the gardens.” he starts with a measured narrow to his eyes, not too intense to possibly upset this.. future child of his whose eyes are strikingly familiar enough to halt the normal circulation of his heart once more for half a second. “were you responsible for the destruction of some hedges I've come across?”

alice shrinks into themselves. “i'm sorry papa.” they pursed their lips, voice genuine by the lower tilt. “i thought i could use my card soldiers to look for you, and mada. you told me about this place called heartslabyul before?”

“i have?” riddle blinks. the idea isn't too bizarre, it's only natural to think back on such things.

they nodded. “yes, papa. you talk about it a lot on our friday’s. about how it looked, how you were as it's dorm leader…” alice peeks a glance at you. “and your parties with mada.”

“unbirthday parties.” trey corrects. “sometimes birthday parties if it really is someone's birthday.”

ace perks up. “let me tell you then! from first hand experience!” he blanched. like opening light about his own struggles in heartlsabyul magically meant the truth to riddle’s own kid. “labyul is really strict on rules. you know on my first day, I ate a tart and—”

deuce stirred slightly.

at riddle’s glare, ace visibly wilts to which cater snaps a picture with snickers. “I mean… the tart was really good, made by riddle and all…” he sweatdropped.

“you shouldn't eat a tart that is not made by you.” alice replied thoughtfully. riddle can't resist a light smile at her words, feeling a sense of accomplishment as he nodded along. his hand hovers for a moment before it pats down on their hair. “that's right. I must have taught you well.”

you absentmindedly patted their head, taking turns with riddle to do so while  expertly avoiding his gaze. “you said friday though, why?”

“on friday’s we don’t go out.” alice says.

“that isn’t a rule by the queen of hearts.” riddle points out.

“you made that rule papa.” they replied innocently. “in our home, so we get to spend time together as a family.”

silence reigns.

“wow.” you cough. sparing riddle an approving glance. that… sounded nice… domestic, and nice. you supposed even as an adult riddle would still have some sort of grip on rules, considering he grew up with them, it helped him live.

and now rules he shaped helped him live with alice, and you apparently. 

tick.

tock.

tick.

tock.

alice peers down at the watch they pull out from under their little adorable coat, oblivious to the stunned silence they left behind. hesitantly, they place a hand on your knee, legs swinging as they rest the other on riddle’s. “mada.” they smiled, this time widely. “papa. I gotta go.”

“what?” riddle's eyes widened. “you haven't finished your tart yet.”

“it's okay. I already ate a tart earlier, papa.”

“you can eat another, just this time. if you want.” he insisted, strangely worried.

cater raises his hand. “can I?”

riddle disagrees immediately. “no.”

muttering something about favoritism, cater looked away with a long sigh.

riddle's eyes lingered on the roundness of alice's face. from the shape, to the more detailed parts of their features. eyes, your eyes. the lushness of their hair, the soft curve of their lips tilted with innocence sends an unexpected grip in his heart, like it's heart stopping.

gosh. his heart just stopped. would he really have his own alice? his eyes darted to you. with you?

alice huffed lightly, skin glimmering lightly as their shade slowly grew transculent and faded with each blink of your eyes. “I can always eat papa's tarts. they're so delicious.” 

“don't use too much magic.” riddle scolded with a crease in his brows.

you add. “don't anger riddle too much.”

“please eat his tarts.” ace encouraged.

trey shot him a look. “don't teach alice bad things.” he sighed, glancing at said child with a smile. “I'll teach you how to make your own tarts, ask uh… future me?”

cater, not wanting to be outdone quickly perked up. “as a future magicam star, I'll make you one too. little alice!” he added, self assured of his future fame.

when it all settles, all that remains is a space between you and riddle that feels too little than vast. and a remainder of your future.

“atleast we know what name we'll choose.” you can't resist but tease. riddle does not blow up like you would have thought from your remark, only sparing you a look of feigned annoyance with warming ears that doesn't support the idea of his irritation.

he resigns to a small nod. “I am assured they are taught well.”

ace glances between you, and riddle. “I miss alice already. riddle seemed a lot more lenient with them around. you think they got embarrassing stories from the future?” he comments off-handedly, leaning back against the couch and blowing on the fringe over his forehead. “when are you guys gonna make an alice? please make one now.”

cater whistles out of there.

trey shakes his head.

deuce–still passed out is thankfully considered by trey, who dragged his limp body with a nod of goodluck to ace.

you waved at ace. F indeed.

wait! don't leave me, upperclassman! ace cried in his mind, feeling the panic splinter his state of mind.

“ACE!” riddle gritted his teeth. “i'll hand down my sentence, the verdict comes afterwards–”

ace paled.

“off with your head–!”

trivia

alice’s name is very much inspired by alice from the one and only: “alice in wonderland”.

their unique magic is called: under my decree which is simply being able to summon card soldiers, and command them at their will! (in this case, after being sent to a maze and finding their way out thanks to the hedgehog. alice was able to discern that this was heartlsabyul, and figured they might be able to find their parents here, hence, why they used their magic.)

alice is written to be a well-behaved 8 year old.

the watch is a nod to my previous commissioned work who also dealt with the concept of time travelling and related to going back (ha, ha).

alice woke up by the sound of a clock ticking, and knew that hearing it again meant that their time was up.

the entire thing happened due to alice helping untangle a fae who happened to get stuck in their gardens at the backyard while they were looking for a hedgehog that had not yet eaten (spoiler: hedgehog was hiding in a small crack under the tree) the same fae visited them at night whilst sleeping and granted them a dream of whatever they wanted to wish. alice, feeling swayed by the magic despite being not aware made a wish to fulfill it.

boom! baby rosehearts in your faces!

alice woke up and immediately said young riddle was funnily shy to yuu. much to the confusion of actual current riddle!

their favorite tart is: anything with strawberries, like riddle.

rule 13, and rule 102 are entirely fictional and made up by me… for plot purposes…

not deuce = is actually yuu

not yuu = is actually ace

not ace = is actually deuce

deuce been sleeping for the entire time lol.

ace got roped into fixing the gardens with the collar on  #thatswhatyouget

riddle invites you to study for the nearing quiz season the following day.

[feedmestraycats]

Excellent concept!

You're an autistic biologist that has crashed on a strange planet. A curious male naga approaches as you leave your wrecked ship.

Your universal translator implant is working and you strike up a conversation.

Obsessed naga man flirting: "Wow, you're so small and soft! I would really like to get to know you better~"

You, wanting to satisfy scientific curiousity: "And you seem very large and durable, perfectly adapted to this environment! I am very interested in learning more about you too!"

Your Research Journal: A friendly native seems interested in the exchange of information. I am eager to learn more about this species.

[3p1logu3]

His fingers rapidly tapped against his knee as his eyes scanned outside the car window. Luminescence is already creeping over the array of houses, a vice against his stoicism. SAE ITOSHI’s exhaustion was apparent, a lingering ache attacking his shoulders; or more visibly, the dark, subtle swelling which framed his delicate eyes. 

The weeks he leaves you behind gnaws at him, guilt interfering with his consciousness with each day passing. How many sleepless nights have you suffered from the wraths of his absence? 

He doesn’t deserve your patience.

With his suitcase settled against the bedroom wall, he let out a soft sigh. Viridescence fell upon you, concerned as he approached the bed frame. A leg, draped over the temporary warmth of his pillow, tugged close to your figure and tucked underneath your chin. Perhaps a more everlasting comfort than himself.

He had forgotten the pleasant nature in which his own mattress would bring, accompanied by your warmth, after a tiring week of lonesome. Almost selfishly, he wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you to nestle against his chest. He softly placed his lips against your temple, soft whispers of an apology against your restful forehead. His breath brushed against you gingerly, akin to the touch of a newborn.

You stirred, and due to your fatigued stupor, you must’ve forgotten the solitude he inflicted upon you for the past week. A soft, debilitated smile tugs at your lips, and the lasting of his ache melts. He buried his nose against your nape, bodies sculptured to slot against each other completely. 

He traced your features with a soft finger, eyelashes flickering closed as his heart grew even more enamoured, stretching to accommodate all of you. His body relaxed, wrapped in the heaven of your embrace.

a/n : ok this is written in sae pov so he thinks he's rlly negligent and a horrible bf but reader isn't as neglected as he thinks they are... doz that make sense??? so reader is genuinely happy to see him sae is just an #unreliable narrator

©3p1logu3 all rights reserved. please do not repost my work. if u enjoyed pls consider following, commenting or reblogging :3333

[minh907]

Any Solo Leveling character is writeable for you? Is it possible to ask for a gn entomologist reader (who may or may not be autistic) who is really interested in Beru in a platonic and scientific kind of way? Like they're Jinwoo's friend, but they can't help, but be curious about Beru whenever he summons him.

I hope writing this won't be hard for you...

Afraid? No.

[Platonic] Beru x Reader.

I'm sorry that you have to wait for so long 😭😭 Hope you don't get upset.

I love you all 💗

______________________

The first time you saw Beru, you almost dropped the specimen box from your hands. The glass jars, filled with butterflies and rare beetles, rattled as you were stunned.

You had known Sung Jinwoo for almost a year now. The two of you had met by chance at a university lecture on rare insects - you had come as part of the entomology research group, and he... well, he had never really explained why he was there. He would just smile lightly whenever you asked, that faint smile like a mirror reflecting the bottom of still water, making others unconsciously want to trust him. 

Without knowing when, a strange friendship had blossomed between the two of you: one was a curious entomology student, the other was law student, a man with a lonely aura like a long night.

Somehow, you soon realized that Sung Jinwoo was no ordinary person. Bits and pieces of truth are revealed through broken conversations, sudden disappearances, moments when he looks into the distance as if hearing something you can't quite place. Until the day he hesitantly reveals - he is the Shadow Monarch, the one who stands in the shadows, commanding armies that are neither living nor dead.

You've seen the silhouettes of his soldiers from afar: their towering figures, their roars that fill the air. You think you’re prepared, that nothing can scare you anymore.

Until today.

Beru.

A giant creature with silvery wings, a body that is part human, part insect, exuding an aura that freezes the air. His eyes glow coldly, his claws glint with metallic light, and a strange, respectful bow that makes the whole image both terrifying and strange.

"My King," Beru said in a shrill voice, bowing to Jinwoo like a loyal knight.

And you? You seized the specimen box and your heart raced like it would escape your body.

Sung Jinwoo shifted his gaze toward you while expressing regret through his eyes and hiding a hint of amusement. The man spoke gently to you like he would comfort a tiny bird. "He will not cause you any injury."

You opened your mouth to reply, but only a weak gasp escaped. For the first time in your life, you felt small in front of a creature that did not belong to this world - and for the first time, you understood that your friendship with Jinwoo had drawn you into a world much, much larger and stranger than the butterflies in the glass cage.

"Jinwoo, that… that's no ordinary ant," you whispered, your eyes widening so much they almost popped out of your head as a giant black insectoid glided out from Jinwoo's shadow.

Jinwoo only gave his signature small, mysterious smile. "This is Beru," he introduced in a light voice, as if he were talking about a house cat. "My strongest shadow."

Beru's jaw clicked slightly as it bowed respectfully before Jinwoo, then slowly turned its ember-red eyes to you. The moment those eyes locked onto you, the air around you felt thick.

But you didn't back down.

Years of studying insects had forged a heart of steel against anything with antennae, segmented legs, or pincers. Instead of fear, you felt a surge of excitement in your chest, blood pumping in your veins.

"Is he… is he a derivative of Camponotus?" you blurted, approaching Beru with the glint of a kid in a candy store. "Or more Atta-like in physiology? The exoskeleton is fascinating... a perfect blend of insect and human anatomy!"

You almost started muttering technical terms as you circled Beru, taking in every little detail: the texture of the chitinous surface, the proportions of the forelimbs and hindlimbs, even wanting to bend down to examine the movable joints.

Jinwoo stared at you with uncertainty and mild confusion.

"Most people run away screaming." The experience made him uncertain about whether it was something to boast about or something he should worry about because most people flee in terror according to his account.

You just waved your hand, eyes still fixed on Beru as if the world around them had vanished. "Most people aren't entomologists," you replied, dead serious. "Do you think I could study him sometimes? Just observation, I promise! No invasive intervention! The scientific community would never believe this if I didn't have the documentation."

Beru tilted his head slightly to look at you, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. Perhaps because of the special attention he was getting, the giant creature even leaned towards you as if to make it easier for you to observe. Jinwoo rubbed his forehead, obviously trying to figure out who he had just brought to his side.

"Arise," Jinwoo muttered with a resigned sigh.

Immediately, from the shadows stretching out beneath him, a series of smaller creatures emerged - medium-sized shadow ants, all lined up in neat formation before you. They clicked, their armor glistening like ink in the light.

Your eyes widened even more.

"A fully hierarchical colony structure?" you whispered excitedly, your hand clutching the notebook in your pocket as if you were afraid you would forget every detail. "Jinwoo, this is unbelievable!"

Jinwoo, who looked at you as if he were witnessing a creature even stranger than any monster he had ever encountered, sighed, nodding in surrender. "Just think of it as a personal field trip."

You were practically jumping for joy, and Beru, with a look of utter pride on his face, puffed out his chest and stood straight like a first-class specimen, ready for you to analyze every millimeter.

__________

Over the next few months, Jinwoo allows you to observe Beru and several of his other insect shadows in your spare time. You keep a professional distance - these are sentient beings, after all, not just specimens - but your notebooks quickly fill with observations.

'Subject Beru exhibits incredible intelligence and communication abilities. Unlike conventional ants that rely on pheromone signals, it appears to be capable of complex vocalizations and understanding human speech. The jaw structure suggests evolution for both combat and complex communication.

Behavioral Notes: Despite its fearsome appearance, the subject displays absolute loyalty to SJ. The hierarchy within the shadow army mimics that of natural ant colonies but with greater individual autonomy.'

One evening, as you sat cross-legged on the ground of the Shadow Realm (you don't know how you could come here), sketching Beru's jawbone structure, Jinwoo approached with two cups of coffee.

"You know," he said, handing you a cup, "Beru asked about you."

You almost spilled your coffee. "He what???"

"He was curious why you were always following him. I explained what an entomologist was, but..." Jinwoo shrugged. "He wanted to know more."

You glanced at the giant ant, who was currently engaging in a sparring match with big knight shadow. "Is he curious about me too?"

Jinwoo nodded. "He's smart. Smarter than most people think."

That night, for the first time, you spoke directly to Beru instead of just observing or taking notes.

"Your social structure - before you became shadows, I mean - must be fascinating," you say, trying not to sound too eager. "Is it similar to terrestrial ants, with a queen and specialized workers?"

Beru's head tilts, his mandibles clicking softly. Then, to your surprise, he begins to describe the queen ant society of Jeju Island. His voice is deep, resonant, with a strange clicking tone, but completely understandable.

You rush to your notebook, frantically taking notes as Beru explains concepts that will completely change the understanding of entomology - if you can publish it, which you know you can't.

_________

"You're not afraid of him at all, are you?" Jinwoo asked a few months later, watching her carefully measure the distance between Beru's whiskers with a special caliper.

"Should I be afraid?" you asked, taking down the measurement. "Beru has never shown any behavior that would make me feel scared."

"People usually view my shadows as monsters."

You looked up at Beru, who patiently allowed you to examine him. "I see a remarkable evolutionary adaptation. A sentient being with a complex social structure and intelligence. Why would I be afraid of something so fascinating?"

Then, as Jinwoo stepped outside to take a phone call, Beru's lower jaw clicked slightly.

"You are different," he said, his eyes fixed on you.

"Why?" you asked, closing your notebook.

"Not afraid. See me. Not just a shadow. Not just a monster."

You smile. "Oh, a career interest. I have devoted my entire life to studying insects. You stand as the most amazing individual I have encountered thus far."

Beru's lower jaw clicks in a way you recognize as his laugh. "Human study me. I study human."

"You studied me?" you ask, surprised.

"Different colonies. Different ways. Interesting to me."

You smile. "I suppose we're both researchers in our own ways."

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

IT'S CHUUYA'S BIRTHDAY 🎂🎉🥳🎉🎉🎉🎉🥳🎁🎁🎉🥳🎉🎉🎈🎉🥳🎉🎉🥳🎉🎉

Happy Birthday to our favourite Port Mafia Executive!🎉🎊🎂

Have some bits from Self-Aware BSD AU about Chuuya as a present.

🍷 He found a new hobby. He is now collecting vinyl records.

🍷 Somehow, he is always (unintentionally) got educated about every meme, including cursed ones.

🍷 He has social media accounts, but he isn't very active.

🍷He is volunteering at the local dog shelter. He wants to have his own dog, but he is busy and, despite having lots of roommates, doesn't want to dump his responsibility on someone else.

🍷He will be one of the first to propose to you. During "dating" part of your relationship (when all of you were working on having a good, respectful polyamorous relationship), he will be fine to share his time with you with Akutagawa, Kouyou, Rimbaud, Verlaine and Adam. On a big holidays he will tolerate Dazai.

BEAST! Chuuya

⛓️ BEAST! Chuuya find liking in long walks. There is a possibility, that he will start liking birdwatching.

⛓️ BEAST! Chuuya isn't the greatest cook. He can cook, but his food are on a bland side, he chooses nutrition over taste. His food is edible, especially if you need a lot of energy, but don't have time for a big meal.

⛓️ Tried to look into criminal drama films. Found all of them boring, will always fall asleep during them.

⛓️Has a small collection of accessories he can put on his hat.

⛓️ Will be hesitant to propose to you. But it will work out at the end. Will be fine to share his time with you only with BEAST! Dazai

WAN! Chuuya

🍾 An animal whisperer. Seriously, all animals love him. (Actually, all Chuuyas are animal whisperers, you just haven't got a chance to get Original and BEAST to the zoo)

🍾 Will try to teach Chuuyas live lessons, when he is drunk.

🍾 Helps WAN! Kenji with making repairs for WAN! Farm.

🍾 When you got sick he was the first one from WAN! Gang who offered to be your heating pad. He was planning to hug you while you sleep.

🍾 Every Christmas with the rest of WAN! Gang will try to catch Santa and Krampus. They will go into the town, searching for people, who tried to get into others' houses. Thanks for them every year all robberies will be prevented. And caught robbers will left wondering, if they really were stopped by a gang of children.

[strawb3rry-hon3y]

cliché but opposites attract with yeon sieun? can be a headcanon or a scenario !! whatever you want 🫶🏼 tysm

Impulse And Intellect

Pairing: Yeon Si-eun x GN!Reader Requested: Yes

Summary: A headcanon about Si-eun falling for someone who is his complete opposite.

Length: 676 Words Genre: Fluff / Light Angst

Warnings: Fluff, outgoing/impulsive reader behavior. Status: Complete!

♡. Si-eun first noticed you because you were everything he wasn’t. Loud laughter, quick emotions, and a warmth that seemed to follow you wherever you went. He didn’t understand you at first, and it lowkey annoyed him how you could just say whatever you were feeling so easily.

♡. You, on the other hand, found him fascinating. Calm, composed, and almost infuriatingly blank at times. Si-eun was like a puzzle you wanted to figure out.

♡. When you two started hanging out more (mostly because you forced yourself into his space, sitting next to him at lunch, dragging him into random conversations). Si-eun realized you weren’t just reckless, You felt everything deeply. But somehow, that didn’t make you weak; it made you strong in your own way.

♡. You love poking at Si-eun just to get any reaction out of him. Tugging his sleeves, mimicking his serious expressions, leaning way too close when he’s trying to study. Half the time he just blinks at you like "are you done yet?". But sometimes you catch the tiniest smirk before he hides it.

♡. You had no problem dragging Si-eun into chaotic adventures sneaking off-campus for snacks, last-minute study sessions that turned into you ranting about life, and even stupid bets like who could stay quiet longer, which are always his idea. (you lost every time, but he secretly liked when you talked).

♡. Speaking of, Si-eun secretly loves hearing you talk about your day, even when you ramble about random, pointless things. He won’t always respond with full sentences, but he listens so intently it makes your heart hurt a little.

♡. He doesn’t always know how to comfort you when you get upset. If you cry, Si-eun sits there awkwardly for a second before offering his hand or wordlessly pushing a snack and drink toward you. He’s trying, okay?

♡. Si-eun is the type to wordlessly fix your jacket if it’s slipping off, or move you to the inside of the sidewalk without saying anything, and press his hand lightly to your back when he feels you getting overwhelmed. No big gestures. Just quiet, constant care.

♡. He tries not to show it but seeing you upset messes him up more than anything. He’ll stay awake texting you, walking you home, or sitting quietly by your side, anything just to be there. Even if he doesn’t know what to say.

♡. You're the reason he starts carrying extra band aids or mini-med kits easy to carry. Not for himself: but for you. Because you keep scraping your knees, bumping into things, and somehow managing to get minor injuries doing the most ridiculous things.

♡. The first time he calls you "reckless," you grin and say "And you love it." without missing a beat. He looks like he’s about to argue but just sighs and looks away.

♡. Si-eun always pretends he’s not worried about you when you get yourself into stupid situations, but the way he shows up without you calling, and the quiet one or two word lectures he gives you afterward: kind of gives him away.

♡. When you’re feeling restless and impulsive, for example: "Let’s go on a midnight walk!" "Let’s dye our hair!" "Let's prank Baku!" Si-eun sighs.. but 95% of the time, he goes along with it. Quietly, Grumpily, But he’s there. Always.

♡. You once tried to teach him how to take silly selfies. He just stared at the camera like O_O the entire time. You love him for it anyway. (that exact photo became your home screen wallpaper.).

♡. He doesn’t say "I love you" first. Instead, it’s you blurting it out in the middle of a heated moment. Si-eun just blinks at you before replying in a small, quiet voice like it's the most embarrassing thing in the world: "I know. Me too.." Which is honestly more then you expected in that moment.

♡. People wonder how the two of you work so well together. What they don’t realize is that You don’t fix each other. You just make the hard days softer, the lonely days warmer, and life a little more bearable, together.

Taglist: N/A Header’s Creator: @saradika-graphics

[leighsartworks216]

Back At The Beginning

Dragon!Sylus & Lemurian!Reader

Wrote this thinking haha cute dragon-mermaid meeting, and then realized it could be a prequel to Fishing Trip... y'all I think I accidentally made another reader-character-oc

Warnings: silly, first meetings, lemurians, merfolk, pov third person, it/its pronouns for reader-character, injury, blood, drowning, swimming, implied kiss

Word Count: 1,691 (nice)

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third LADs Masterlists

AO3

Tag List Form

He barely sucks a breath in before the crash. The water swooshes up around him. His body plunges into the depths at the center. The moon is dark tonight - there is no direction to guide him to the surface. All around him: inky black, burning his eyes.

His wings are useless. They could perhaps be used as fins to propel him, but he's never tried before. Never been in the ocean before.

The young dragon writhes and squirms like prey caught in a spider's web. There's no traction to gain. Nothing he can sink his claws into. His tail lashes about in wild arcs.

Something giggles beside him. He stops sharply, trying to follow the sound. Eyes burning from the salt. Hearing muffled. His heart races furiously. Bubbles rise from his nostrils in the darkness.

Something swooshes past on his other side. His tail whips around. He just misses it. He can feel the current behind it.

He curses to himself. He doesn't have time for this! He needs to get to the surface! He needs to find some dry land to haul himself onto so his wings can dry! So he can fly again - fly back home!

He tries to ignore whatever is surrounding him - for as terrifying as the prospect feels - to find the top of the water.

"That's the wrong way." It giggles again.

A rush of bubbles from his nose. They shimmer and refract some mysterious source of light, multicolored even in the gloom. And then pop. His lungs are beginning to strain. He rotates oddly and tries again.

"Still the wrong way!" it chimes. "Can't you tell up from down?"

A swish of water at his side. He claws at it on instinct. They scrape against something fish-like, but he causes no damage. Makes no impact on the creature.

It giggles again. The sound infuriates him in the same breath that it entrances him. He's losing energy trying to attack it. Each burst loses more of his oxygen. His body moves slow through the water, trying to follow his instincts. But his balance is all off.

He can sense the creature's presence underneath him. Feel its eyes watching him. "Are you a land creature?" He tries not to react when it touches his wing. He can't afford to. "A sky creature?"

He kicks his legs. Moves his arms as though he's digging through rock. He expects another laugh, but hears none.

"You can't swim?" A swirling current around his body. A ribbon of water that follows the creature's movements. "You can't breathe..."

No, he can't, and he can feel his chest burning. It aches, like a tunnel fit to collapse in on itself. He stubbornly pushes onward.

"Creature, I can help you," the voice says. "I can give you the ability to breathe underwater."

He shakes his head. He can't see. All he can do is hope he's going the right way. Judging by the creature's increasing anxiety, flitting about him, he isn't.

"You cannot hope to reach the surface like this! You're much too deep, creature." A soft touch at his arm. His instincts are faster this time. His claws catch skin. Tear apart flesh. Blood puffs into his face. The creature pulls away with a cry of pain.

But it doesn't leave.

"Please, creature, you're too deep! You'll drown! You're nearer the bottom - you can't reach the surface!" It swishes and whooshes and circles him nervously.

He shakes his head again, but the last bubbles of his air float away from him.

The creature makes a distressed sound. "Creature, I hope you can forgive me for saving your life!"

He feels the water shift in front of his face. Senses the large body of the creature directly in front of him. A soft touch to his lips. And they're gone - moved away.

It's like his lungs are suddenly full. As though fresh oxygen has entered his body in the same moment he gasps in a mouthful of salt water. He stills in his shock. Takes another tentative breath, and another.

A light appears in the depths. An orb of yellow, cradled in the palms of a humanoid-looking thing. He stares at it. Rakes his eyes over its features: its wide eyes and the slope of its nose; its slightly parted lips and its hair; the fins protruding from the tips of its ears and the gills at its throat; the large, shimmering tail steadying its body in the water.

"Creature? Are you breathing?"

He swallows and is surprised it doesn't taste of sand and sea. He nods unsurely.

Its lips curl upward at the sides. "I saved you! You're welcome!" It giggles with glee as it swirls around him. He can see it now, follow its powerful body with the light it carries. The scales of its tail shine even in the waning light left behind. It comes back in front of him, upside down, its body stretched over his head. "Come on! I'll show you back up."

Up. Right. He forgot he was trying to surface, so caught up in this strange creature's behavior. It nods its head in a direction - presumably up - and takes the lead in guiding him. It watches carefully as he finally shakes off his stupor and does his best to follow. It tilts its head curiously.

"You don't swim well. You have fins, why don't you use them?"

Fins? Is it talking about his wings? They trail pitifully behind him, limp and weighed down in the water.

"You can speak now, creature," it says. "The spell only lasts until you breathe air again, but it allows you to talk down here, too."

Speaking feels strange. He doesn't push air through his vocal cords, but water. It's thicker, somehow. "They're-" He grunts at the sensation and the effort of his poor swimming. "Not fins."

"No?"

"They're wings," he corrects bluntly. "What are you?"

"I'm Lemurian. What are you?"

"A Fiend."

They're nearing the surface. He can feel the change in pressure. It eases off his chest, makes speaking feel lighter. It must feel it, too. Even in what little light provided, he can see its chest rising and falling differently, like it's changed how it breathes to compensate.

"Do Fiends have names?" it asks.

He grunts.

It giggles, teasing, "Is that your name?" It makes a deep mimic of his voice.

He shakes his head, hair swishing in the surf. "It's... Stayrus," he mutters.

It tests it on its tongue. Purrs it like a melody. "Mine is Y/N."

He doesn't repeat it. His attention is set on the glow of the orb hitting the surface of the water, like a ceiling. He eagerly breaks through. Gasps deep lungfuls of air, expecting to cough out buckets of water; none comes out, save for the lapping waves that roll into his mouth. The creature pokes its head out with him, though with far greater hesitancy.

"Hmm, there's land that way," it murmurs. He follows their gaze, but he sees nothing. "I can help you get there, Stayrus. Please don't drown again."

Its body moves like a serpent in the surf. It moves silently, smoothly, through the water. He splashes behind, only following to reach dry land faster. He's sick and tired of being wet, especially now as the cold night air brings a chill that he'd normally greatly appreciate.

As they get closer, the seabed comes up to meet his feet. Soon his toes can reach. Then his full feet, and then his upper body is rising from the water with each step. The Lemurian stops just shy of that phase, appearing to sit on the soft sand to watch him leave. He groans with relief as he stretches his wings out. They're absolutely soaked. He inhales deeply, breathing in the air now that there is no risk of drawing in water with it.

The metallic scent of blood tickles his nose. Back on land, his senses are sharp and well-defined. He knows the blood is behind him. When he turns, he sees the creature in the water. The light shines on its arms. It reveals a scratch on its forearm - four in fact. Where he managed to land an attack on them. It bleeds sluggishly. The dark ichor stains the even darker water, moving with the tide. The creature smiles innocently up at him.

It bleeds out because of his doing, yet smiles like that. He hurt it, and yet it helped him anyway; cast some magic on him so he wouldn't drown and led him back to dry land. It shows kindness in the face of his destruction.

He releases a long breath. He would be better off making the slow trek back home. Leave it here to watch him disappear into the distance. So why is this young dragon stepping back into the water until it reaches his waist?

"Show me your arm," he gruffs.

It blinks up at him, but obliges. "What for?"

He stares hard at the open wound. The skin is jagged at the edges. Muscle underneath torn. He damns his weakness as he hovers his gauntleted hand over the injury.

Ashen tendrils of red and black extend from his palm and fingers. They circle its arm, swirl around just as the creature had done to him in the water. It watches in fascination as its skin stitches together, healed almost perfectly. When he draws his hand back, it excitedly traces over where the scratches had been, ball of light floating on the water's surface. It looks back up at him in awe.

"That's incredible, Stayrus! Thank you! Now I won't have to worry about sharks tonight." It giggles. He ignores the soft feeling in his heart as he turns away and trudges back up the beach. "Oh! Goodnight!"

When he's neared the grassy edge of the beach, where it transforms from sand to dirt, he's compelled to look back. He sees nothing; no light, no creature, no moon. He stares in the darkness for a while, but nothing disturbs the water. He shakes his head and navigates home, soggy wings trailing behind him.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08 @lunaizhere @sine-nomine0 @beautifulthingsiadore @lalaluch @nothankyew @terriblesoup @jeleryyy @nezuswritingdesk @anaathxma @ssushi @mina7820 @monophobix @mentaltrouble2201 @mskaylacharite @nerrivm @ichosesparklingtorment @schnittled @animegamerfox @flamedancer13 @rebloggingislove @moonlight-inthe-sea @persepolys @satorubabee @sleepykittycx @moon-inthe-sea @perla-drg @leiakitty

[narnian-neverlander]

One Night Stands Only [Jason Todd x GN!Reader]

Summary: It’s obvious Jason only has one night stands - right?

Genre: fluff, tiny bit of hurt/comfort

Word Count: 4,6k

Warnings: none

A/N: Came across the DC Valentine’s special again and… yeah. Decided to do sth about it 💁

If you use any of my works for AI I will hunt you down for sport 😬

“You were right, it’s a nice place.” Bernard nods appraisingly, glancing around the newly opened bookstore, little café situated right in the middle. It’s not a new concept by any means, but the high ceilings and big windows allow the little natural light Gotham has to brighten the entire place and the cozy couches and booths scattered between shelves make for a nice and different respite from what the city usually has to offer. Tim hums in approval as he glances over the menu again. “Yeah; quiet, comfy, good coffee selection. I should thank the person who recommended it.”

“And who was that?” Bernard asks over his shoulder before greeting the girl working the counter and placing their order. Tim’s brows immediately furrow. “It was… I heard about it from… Uhm…” The blonde chuckles as he steers his boyfriend towards a nearby table, eyes flicking towards a corner sofa. “You think it might’ve been your brother?” Tim snorts. “Which one?” He receives a gesture at something behind him as an answer and finds Jason sitting on one of the couches a little further back, book propped open in his lap and a few more stacked on the small, round table in front of him and Tim nods. “Okay, sure, that tracks.” Bernard watches over Tim’s shoulder a few moments longer, then a small smile forms on his face. “I mean, yeah, it is a nice place for a date.”

Tim’s head snaps back around so fast it’s comical, a disbelieving, almost scandalized ‘Date?!’ out of his mouth before he can stop it. Sure enough, someone else has joined his brother, just in the process of placing two cups on the table - or trying to anyways; an almost impossible task with the amount of books already occupying the small space. And while he might not be able to hear either of you, he wouldn’t be part of a family of world class detectives if he couldn’t read lips.

‘Okay, should I just get like, a whole teapot now? How long do you plan on being here?’

‘Eh, not long.’

‘Jay, even you can’t read five books at once.’

‘Watch me.’

A cocky grin and an eyebrow waggle, which earns him an eye roll from the mystery person, albeit attached to a fond smile, followed by a shooing motion to scoot further down the sofa and make space, to which he obliges immediately. Tucked into Jason’s side, his arm coming around your shoulders entirely too naturally as both of you go back to your books, seemingly all settled and content to simply be in the other’s presence like this.

Tim turns back to his boyfriend with brows drawn together, lips pressed into a thin line and fingers tapping his chin in thought - and Bernard knows exactly what that look means. “Tim, switch outta detective mode. Your brother has a date, so what?” But the gears are clearly already turning and not stopping anytime soon. “It’s just… Jason only has one night stands.” It’s a look somewhere between surprise, disbelief and even offense before the blonde speaks up again. “Isn’t that a bit presumptuous? You don’t know if—“ Tim vehemently shakes his head to interrupt him. “No, no, I mean that’s literally what he told me; what he tells anyone from the family who asks, as far as I’m aware.”

Bernard’s eyes move over to the couch again, simply observing for a few seconds before he shrugs. “Well, one night stands don’t exclude a date. Or maybe he’s changed his mind. People are allowed to do that, you know.” he says with an easy grin right as the little round sensor on their table starts vibrating, indicating their order is ready. He snatches the device up and stands, placing a hand on Tim’s shoulder, effectively gaining his attention. “Either way, I don’t think it’s anything for you to lose sleep over. Or any of your business, to be honest. If he is in a relationship and you don’t know, I’m sure he has his reasons.” He grabs the hand Tim has been busy biting the cuticles off of and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “Just let it go, detective.”

With that he’s gone to pick up their drinks, meanwhile Tim almost turns his head to look at the couple again, but ultimately decides against it, instead racking his brain for wether or not any of his other siblings ever mentioned Jason having a partner, but nothing comes to mind. Fingers drumming against the table, he’s one spiraling thought away from getting up and going over there to satisfy the annoying itch of curiosity, but then he watches Bernard walk back towards him, a coffee cup in each hand and a happy smile on his face, his own heart skipping a beat at the sight, and he realizes that his boyfriend’s right. It doesn’t matter right now, nor is it any of his business; if this is someone, important to Jason, he would tell them - in his own time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay I had my doubts, but that was pretty good.” Stephanie states as she stretches her arms over her head, following the crowds out of the theater into the big entrance hall. Cass grins and nods enthusiastically in agreement, while Babs only shrugs and hums in thought. “I mean, sure, it was good; solid storytelling, breathtaking visuals, but—“

“I still think the book’s better, though.”

They all know it’s exactly what the redhead was gonna say, but it doesn’t come from her. Even so, the voice is familiar and all three of their heads snap up almost in unison to look for the source.

A joyful laugh, from around the pillar a little ways in front of them, followed by, “That’s the most Jason thing you could’ve said, ya know.”

Now that voice isn’t familiar to any of them, neither is the person who appears in their field of view a second later, hands linked with someone still hidden by the pillar - not that it’s still much of a secret who it is.

“So? It’s still true.”

The soft grin on the stranger’s face morphs into something more mischievous. “Riiight. I’m sure you hated every second of this. That’s why I saw some tears during a scene or two.”

A squeak as the person gets yanked forward, disappearing from sight again; then laughs can be heard accompanied with, “It was dark, you didn’t see shit.”

The three girls exchange glances, all wide eyes and raised brows. Then they watch the couple walk out into the open of the entrance hall, towards the exit, one of Jason’s arm’s wrapped tightly around your shoulders as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

Cassandra is the first to shake off the stupor, a soft smile spreading across her face. “They’re cute together.” she signs. “Yeeeaaahhh…” Steph starts, staring at the doors the two had just left through. “Too cute. And definitely too familiar to just be a one night stand.” The wicked grin is a telltale sign of trouble and Barbara pinches the bridge of her nose because it doesn’t bode well for anybody.

“Just leave it alone, Steph.”

“Oh come on!” the blonde complains. “He’s the one who’s been telling us for ages that he doesn’t do relationships and now he’s out here all sweet and cozy and lovey dovey with someone? And you’re not the least bit curious? I say we investigate!”

Barbara levels her with a blank stare. “And you don’t think that might be the exact reason he doesn’t tell us anything?” Stephanie narrows her eyes at the redhead in suspicion. It’s unlike her, unlike Oracle, not to want all the details of a situation. “Did you already know?”

“Whatever gives you that idea?”

“Because you know everything. And wouldn’t you—“

Barbara doesn’t let her finish. “Would you want a date to be interrupted by your siblings just cause they feel like annoying you? Pestering you about your partner? Jason isn’t the most open, conversational person at the best of times; what do you think is gonna happen if he catches onto your little investigation?”

Steph is about to argue back that sure, while there’s some personal entertainment value involved, she just doesn’t like the idea of someone she cares about being with someone she doesn’t know. What if they’re not a good person? What if they end up hurting him? What if—

Her thoughts are interrupted by a hand on her shoulder and she turns to find herself looking straight into Cass’ dark eyes, her expression serious.

“They really like him, don’t meddle.” she signs.

That takes some of the wind out of Stephanie’s sails and she visibly deflates a bit. “You, uh… you could tell, huh?” The black haired girl nods eagerly and Steph runs a hand through her hair in contemplation. People are an open book to Cassandra, without her ever having to have exchanged a single word with them. If she says you’re fine, that you truly like Jason and have no bad intentions, then… then Steph could leave it alone with an easy conscience. For now, anyways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you for the assist, Master Richard, but I assure you, while welcome, it was not necessary.”

“It’s fine, Alfred.” Dick reassures while loading the last of the groceries into the back of the car. “I know you can handle the regular grocery shopping just fine, but it’s rare to have that many people at once at the manor; I’m glad to help out.”

The older man gives him a grateful smile in return, then plucks a piece of paper from inside his coat pocket and checks it over. “Oh dear, I do believe I’ve missed something.” he mumbles and hands the list over to Dick. “Master Richard, would you mind looking our current purchase over again, just in case? I’ll be right back.”

He watches Alfred hurry back towards the store, someone else exiting when he’s a few feet away from the entrance. A short exchange, quick thanks presumably, as the person holds the door open for him. Then you steer left, in his general direction and—

Hold on. He wasn’t here when him and Alfred got outta the store a few minutes ago.

The parking lot is situated lower than the actual store, some stairs to his right leading up to the higher level, so Dick takes a few steps backwards and cranes his neck back slightly, a leafless hedge partly blocking his view, but the tall, broad stature clad in a leather jacket and the black and white hair are a dead give away. He’s about to call out, surely his brother just didn’t spot him yet, but someone beats him to it.

“Okay, let’s go home.”

The person who’d just left the store. Most definitely talking to Jason. And you seem more than a little annoyed and exasperated.

Meanwhile his brother looks like he’s trying not to burst out laughing.

“What?” the mystery person barks, eyes narrowed at the tall man suspiciously.

“I know I did not just watch you whack an old lady over the head with a magazine cause she tried to take the steak from you.”

“It was the last one!” you complain and the tension bleeds from Dick’s shoulders as he realizes that this is in no way a serious altercation. “Besides, Constance had it coming, not the first time she tried to pull a stunt like that; she’s a fucking menace to everybody.”

Silence for a few long seconds. Then, “If you laugh right now, I swear to God I’m leaving you out on the street tonight, Todd.”

Jason snorts. “And then who’s gonna make the food you fought so hard to get? Sure as shit not you; last time I left you alone with the stove, I thought Firefly had broken into the apartment.”

Dick watches his brother’s conversation partner huff, arms crossed over your chest in defiance as you stare Jason down - until your shoulders sag in defeat and you break eye contact, because apparently, he’s right. “You’re lucky you’ve got other talents besides just being pretty, you know that?”

Jason takes the bags from you, met with only mild complaints, as he grins. “You think I’m pretty? Aw, thanks, babe.” You roll your eyes at that, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of your lips either way. “Leave the corny flirting to Nightwing, it doesn’t suit you.” And Jason actually has the audacity to scrunch up his face in distaste. “Hey now. I was only teasing you; comparing me to him is a straight up insult, take it back.”

“Make me~” you taunt with a sing-song voice and a mirthful smirk, then take off full speed in the opposite direction, past the store, with Jason hot on your heels not a second later.

And Dick hasn’t seen his little brother wear a smile that big in such a long time, he almost forgets to be offended.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian isn’t sure why he’s even here. It’s not like this has any actual academic value for him.

That’s Chrysaora fuscescens.

Over there, Hippocampus hippocampus.

And that one’s Anguilla dieffenbachii.

He’s studied all these creatures and more before and even if he wouldn’t learn anything new about aquatic dwellers, his father had insisted on him going on this field trip. Something about a chance to ‘improve his social skills’.

Tt.

If that’s the mission he’d been given, he’d succeed. Even if he thought it utterly unnecessary. At least he could do it in the presence of one of the most beautiful creatures on the planet, the mighty—

“Shark! Jason, look, there it is!”

With the level of excitement, one would think it’s coming from a child, but no, it’s very much an adult, standing in front of the big glass tank, in the company of Todd of all people. Damian slows his steps to a halt, coming from one of the smaller side entrances that lead to the huge room, and simply observes from a safe distance.

“Uh huh, I see it. And I feel like now would be a good time to remind you that you have plenty of shark memorabilia and that we’ll simply be walking past the gift shop later.”

An inelegant snort, as the person side eyes him with amusement. “Would now be a good time to remind you that we both know that’s not happening?”

Jason pinches the bridge of his nose as he heaves a sigh, but Damian detects no true malice in it. He’s seen him truly irritated, angry - this is nothing of the sort. Fond exasperation, if anything.

“I know they’re nowhere near as dangerous as the media likes to make them out to be,” Jason starts, “but I’m still not sure how you can look at something decidedly dangerous, built for killing, and think it’s… cute.”

The look he receives in return is one Damian can’t quite identify and apparently neither can his brother.

“What?”

“Really? You can’t figure that out?” You cross your arms over your chest and cock your head to the side in thought. “Well, I think you should meet my boyfriend, then. Cause ya know, he’s pretty dangerous and rough around the edges, too, and I still think he’s cute.”

Jason mimics your stance as he responds. “Oh, do you now?”

You nod eagerly, grinning ear to ear. “Of course. When he gets up all groggy with a bed head cause he works late? Cute. When he pretends to get annoyed at his best friend cause he called him a silly nickname? Cute. When—“ That’s as far you get, interrupted by your own squeal, as Jason brings one arm around your shoulders to pull you in and smoosh your face against his chest, the other around your waist so you can’t escape. “Yeah, yeah, got it; I think I’ve heard enough about that guy now.”

Meanwhile you’ve managed to gain enough wiggle room to loop your arms around his neck and pull back to look up at him, lopsided, lovesick smile plastered all over your face. “Sorry, I can’t help it sometimes; I love him very much.” And it’s embarrassing, Damian thinks, how fast Jason breaks, all affectionate grin and soft eyes, just because someone is batting their lashes at him. “Well, he’d be a fool not to love you back.”

Damian turns away in disgust right as the couple is about to share a kiss and retreats down the hallway he came from. He’d never taken Todd for a particularly… honorable man, but courting someone he knows to be in a relationship with someone else? That’s a vile breach of trust that he won’t stand for. And, if he bothered to be honest with himself, not something he could actually see Todd engaging in. Despite his many flaws, he’s proven himself a loyal man often enough. But Damian can’t ignore what he heard with his own ears, that would be disregarding incriminating evidence, so he’ll need to have a talk with his father as soon as he gets home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re curled up on the couch book in hand when the front door all but flies open, your boyfriend hurrying inside and immediately locking the door behind him again. Before you even get a chance to greet him, he’s speeding through the rest of the apartment, making sure all the windows are shut tight and locked, too. You’ve put the book away, instead staring at him over the back of the couch with raised, quizzical brows when he comes back down the hallway into the living room, finally kicking off his boots at the entrance and hanging up his jacket. Then he beelines for the sofa, lifting up your legs to make room and plop himself down, settling your legs in his lap before he tips his head back and scrubs his hands over his face with a groan.

“Okay, Jay? I need you to talk to me; what kind of apocalypse should I be preparing for here?”

He doesn’t answer for a few long seconds, simply drops his hands from his face, his fingers coming to draw anxious patterns into your thighs instead. “Yeah, we’re totally busted. They know about you now.” And as miserable as he looks, as much as you know that spending time with his family is often draining and challenging for him, you can’t help the relieved laugh that bubbles up out of your throat, because with they way he’d just put your apartment on complete lockdown, you’d been expecting something - or someone - way worse.

Still chuckling, you grab one of his hands and squeeze. “Sweetheart, your family literally consists of detectives. In my opinion, we’re damn lucky to have even made it this long without them knowing.” He sighs, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “I’m not convinced Babs didn’t know before tonight. That woman knows everything.” While you’ve only heard stories and seen some pictures of the redhead, you have absolutely no trouble believing that. “So what happened, anyways?”

He mulls it over for a moment. “Well, I think it started when Damian tried to have me disowned.” You almost choke on nothing but air, a sound somewhere between a snort, a cough and a laugh leaving you. “Okay, you’ve completely lost me, babe.”

“Honestly, I was mostly just surprised I’m even still in the will.” A not so gentle nudge of your foot, an annoyed whine of his name because sure, you’d play along for now. Let him get the jokes and sass out of his system and pretend that you don’t see that the lazy grin he gives you is forced. That you don’t feel one his feet tapping the floor anxiously. That you don’t notice the way his eyes keep flicking towards the window and the door, like he’s expecting them to be kicked down any second now. “Apparently Damian saw us at the aquarium together and somehow assumed I’m your, uh, your mistress? And thought it dishonorable enough to bring up disowning me because of it.” Admittedly, picturing that elicits a real laugh, one you try to hide, but the next part still comes out as more of a wheeze than anything else. “And he just… what? Brought that up casually over dinner?” Jason shrugs. “Basically. Tried to talk my way outta it, but turns out some of the others saw us together, too, and things just spiraled from there.” It’s quiet for only a moment, then you, very much still intent on helping him distract himself from whatever it is that’s truly eating at him, but mixed with just a tad of entertained curiosity now, hit him with, “Well, yeah, makes sense; you have been getting sloppy.” His head shoots up from the back of the couch so fast you’re afraid his neck might snap and he actually looks offended. “How exactly is this my fault?”

“Come on, Jay. First couple of months of this relationship you wouldn’t even leave the house with me. Now? Grocery shopping, the movies, café dates, the aquarium - we’re barely apart, so it really was only a matter of time till they figured it out.” Rolling his eyes, he slides further down his seat and pouts, fully aware that technically you are correct - doesn’t mean he has to like it. “Great, helpful as ever, darling. And what do you, in your infinite wisdom, suggest we do about this now?” You regard him in silence for a moment: how he fiddles with your fingers, the set of his jaw, the furrow in his brows, the way every muscle in his body seems tense.

“Hey…” you murmur gently, interlacing your fingers. “Why do we have to do anything about this? What are you so worried about? I promise not to bite them when I meet them. Unless you want me to.” Careful prodding, still interlaced with humor - to let him know he can talk to you about it, but only if he wants to. He huffs out a quiet laugh, giving your intertwined hands a squeeze. “You can be such a gremlin sometimes, do you know that?” Bringing a hand to your chest in mock offense, you grin at him. “Oh, you do not get to call me a gremlin when you’re the one who consistently feeds me after midnight and gets me plenty wet.” The following eye brow waggle from your side is what breaks him; a full blown, joyful laugh as he shifts, picking you up and depositing you on his lap sideways, his arms encircling your middle, some of the previous tension visibly leaving his face. “See, that’s the exact kinda shit I don’t need you saying around them, cause I’ll never live that down.” Humming in thought, you get comfortable in your new position, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Sounds like a you problem, though.” It earns you a playful pinch to your sides that has you batting at his arms and hands to try and get him to stop; a fruitless effort of course, but he eventually settles his hands back on your hips. In turn, you place a hand on his chest, feeling for his heartbeat; most definitely too fast for simply fooling around with and teasing you. He’s not just worried, he’s scared, so you decide the time for games is over. “I’m being serious, though, what’s the matter? This isn’t anything you actually need to be concerned over, is it? It’s really not that big of a deal. So what if they know about me? So what if I eventually meet them now; not like it’s gonna change anything between us.” It’s small and if you didn’t know him as well you did, you probably would’ve missed it or written it off as irrelevant: the way he ever so slightly flinches at the last part.

Bingo.

But you don’t push, you know better. You let him get his thoughts in order, shifting restlessly beneath you while he does and let him answer in his own time.

“It’s stupid…”

“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.”

A sigh, then you feel him rest his cheek on the top of your head.

“I dunno. Being around you is always so… easy. Comforting. Being with them isn’t. It’s complicated and it’s messy and overall just exhausting, most of the time. It’s not all bad, just…” He shakes his head slightly, like he’s trying to get rid of an onslaught of memories; good or bad, you’re not entirely sure. “I guess I just don’t want them rubbing off on you, is all.” Pulling back to look at him, you find his eyes elsewhere, anywhere but you, desperate to avoid your scrutiny. “In other words, you’re worried your relationship with them, their opinions of you, are gonna affect mine, right?” He still can’t bring himself to look at you when he mumbles, “Basically…”

You shuffle about until you get your legs back under you, straddling him and cupping his face in your palms, running your thumbs along his cheek bones until he willingly brings his unnaturally green eyes back to yours and you feel like your heart might crack at the uncertainty you find there. “You’re forgetting that, aside from you, I’m probably the most stubborn person in this city; once I’ve made up my mind, it’s hard to change it. If anything, you should be worried about me not shutting the fuck up about how amazing and wonderful you are around them.” He scoffs and tries to turn his head out of your hold, but you refuse to let go and press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose instead, effectively stunning him into obedience. “Uh uh, you’re not going anywhere, I’m not finished yet. I’m on your side, okay? Even if it feels like nobody else is. I’m judging you based on my experiences with you, not theirs. And sure, not everything’s been great; you’re not perfect and neither am I, but that’s human. We live and we learn and we fuck up and then we try again. And I know you try, Jason. Every day, I know you’re trying. Trying to navigate a second life you never asked for. Trying to live in a body that never feels right, no matter how much time passes. Trying to mend the bonds with a family that more often than not still sees the ghost of a boy looking back at them, instead of the man you’ve become. Trying to make things better in this city, so that no one has to go through the same things you did. And nothing your family could say or do or show me is ever gonna change what I see with my own eyes.” He’s been silent this entire time, letting you speak, but you watched his shoulders slump, the tension that’s kept him wound up like a spring finally dissipating, and his own hands are now gently holding onto your wrists.

“And what do you see?”

It’s barely above a whisper, so quiet, you almost miss it despite how close you are.

You don’t have all the answers. You don’t actually know what meeting his family is gonna be like, how it might affect your relationship, but this? Oh, this you can answer just fine.

“A man who’s scarred and deeply flawed, but is still trying to do better, to be better. A man who wants to make up for the mistakes he did make, but sometimes nobody cares to listen. A man who, for all his efforts to appear ruthless, is still the most caring person I know. I see a man who, despite life never having been kind to him, retained a kind soul.”

And with the way he’s looking at you right now? Nothing but wonder and admiration and affection written all over his face? How could you not be sure about what you’re gonna say next? Sure that no one, absolutely no one, would ever be able to change your mind about him.

“I see the love of my life.”

[kittwix]

Omg hello I have read some your jjba related stuff and I love it!! Your writing is good and I enjoy it.

Could you prehaps write some Rohan x introvert/shy!reader headcanons, only if you want, I'm aware it might take you some time and that's fine by me! ^^

Kishibe Rohan w/ Shy, Introverted! Reader

yes, i'd like to write more often but I don't want to force myself to cook up something thats like halfass. i'd much rather finish works when I'm feeling motivated again! thank you so much for your understanding <33

tags: fluff, slight mention of sex but its very slight and nothing explicit, rohan being rohan, reader is neither stand user or a regular person, reader is gender neutral!!!

He loves it, contrary to what some might think. Those who are as arrogant, brash and abrasive like Rohan would think someone who's reserved and kept their thoughts to themselves would take it as a threat. Not him, he thinks your quiet demeanor is rather alluring since he can't seem to really know whats going on in that head of yours.

Has to fight back the urge to use Heaven's Door on you, just so he can understand you better.

He enjoys your silence, helps him concentrate on his work. Would even suggest to have you sit right next to him, perhaps even on his lap if he wants to tease you, all while sketching out volumes for his manga series.

Speaking of teasing, yeah, you're not necessarily safe from his comments. He likes to call you a little mouse because you make no noise. And when you do talk to him, he makes it a big deal and says something along the lines of, "Hm? Are you talking to me?". He loves how shy you get, he's definitely gonna force you to speak up if you want something from him.

You're gonna forever be his muse, whether it's in private or jusf straight up admitting to you that he bases a character off of you. He's not one to really do that and yet, he feels the need to always include a quiet and mysterious character that resembles you very closely.

If he gets stressed and overworked with deadlines and other rival mangakas, you're the only one that can really ground him. You don't find ways to fix things for him, you only just sit and listen to him and it's what he really needs.

He's also very protective of you, would always watch people very closely when they try to talk to you. If anyone tries to push you around, he's quick to cut them down with brutal sarcasm or a withering glare.

Once you give him the okay to touch you or hold you in any way, he can get really handsy and gets carried away pretty fast. A hand on your back when you're walking, fingers brushing along your wrist while you're reading and pushing you to lay next to him when you're sitting together.

He's always gonna be the initiator. Whether it's to lean in to kiss you, going out on a date, or having sex in private in his office room — he doesn't get tired of it either. As long as you give him the 'okay' or that you're comfortable, he'll make sure that you feel love.

Has a hard time dropping the L-word, a.k.a, "I Love You". Because you keep things mostly to yourself, neither of you have the courags to say it to each other despite wanting to. Rohan has his own way of saying it, along the lines of: "You inspire me.", "You're the only one who understands me.", etc. So when he actually lets thoss three words slip off his lips, it shocks the both of you but he smirks to himself because he's also proud that he said it.

fin!

+ masterlist

[voidcat]

to add onto my tags regarding ness. characters: (implied yan)!alexis ness x gn!reader. notes: also implied to be that ness and kaiser parted ways since NEL. voyuerism, dependency and conditioning if u squint. ness has attachment issues to this day and latches onto you basically. idk whether to laugh or find it sad that i was thinking this while in the shower... why did this get so long...

Getting to know Ness, letting him into your place is one great mistake because after a while you begin to experience series of minor annoyances that do not really affect your day but are still nuisances to go through with. Regardless of sharing a place or not, once he sets foot, he'll be like a vampire invited in to a place-- a permanent part of it forever, his presence there so expected to have around, after a while you won't even bat an eye.

Ness is infatuated with you, knowing your routines by heart now. On the days you'll be having a bath, he 'happens' to come over and more often than not walks into the bathroom to wash his hands. Nothing weird about wanting to clean the dirt of the street off when you arrive home, and from the corner of your eye you've watched him enough times to know he is not peeking at you, so it's fine, right?

It just happens not rarely but often than the central heating system will be off. Knowing he is there, you'll call out to him but to no avail, he won't hear. The bathroom is by the end of the house, with the door closed and a little distance, it's only normal he doesn't hear you- so you'll have to get out naked, putting on the bathrobe while shivering, and asking him to check the system-- or the door covering your body as he hears and makes his way to you, catching a sight of your shoulders covered in droplets of water, glistening under the lights.

Things aren't misplaced entirely but slightly off. for the furniture you have to bend often- refusing his helps, saying you don't want to tire him, small trinkets and items always a little far back, by the right, left-- you can tell either something is off or you've gotten more forgetful recently. Ness always chirps up immediately, suggesting certain things to add to your meals to strenghten your memory.

Fresh batches of your favorite fruits become a struggle to find in your nearby markets- but Ness always shows up with them, as if sensing your cravings. When you pop a fruit into your mouth in one go, eyes closed in absolute bliss and humming, you make sure to thank him, mutter about how lucky you are to have him and he blushes as red as the strawberries. scratching the back of his head, eyes avoiding yours, he says he happened upon a farmer's market, or a local sale by his area. That he was just lucky, you being his charm.

You don't really need to know whenever he leaves your place, he always purchases the fresh batches of your favorite fruits at your area. You don't really need to know about the other things either.

It's not like he is harming you after all, is he? Not manipulating you nor affecting your life negatively, he isn't conditioning you to depend on him either, these are all things you could fix on your own- it just happens, his presence eases things up, fastens the process. These are just minor things one can bite the bullet and live through. It's not like he is doing to you what someone else did to him.

You see, Ness likes to be of help. In fact, it's his purpose so to speak. he likes of being use to you, of being your support, the column of your home. You always smile sweetly and hug him thightly, there are sparks flying in your eyes and when your body is pressed against his, he can smell you on him for hours, saving your scent to his memory.

He knows, this isn't the healthiest way to go, but it's not that there is harm for the both of you in this. He was made to be like this, he was grown and shaped to be like this. It's not like it's the same as what it used to be with kaiser, after all. There is no imbalance at play here, just sweet, lovely, delightful you who happens to need Ness' help and Ness who is always more than happy to be at service for you.

[n0rmal-cat]

SO SORRY TO SEND A SECOND ONE

feel free to ignore this one and just reply to the previous one I sent about the aliens and reader

to add on to "natural human things" what if reader cracks their knuckles and aliens think they just broke something

Alien x pet reader-Knuckles

[thank you for sending me asks, I really appreciate it :) and I hope you enjoy]

Reader cracks their knuckles hearing the satisfying pop. “Ahh that feels so much better”

“Did you just break yourself?” Leader peeks in from the other side of door “Let me see your paws”

“There not, agh whatever” reader gives them their hand

“Your not purple…how have you broken yourself without getting hurt?”

“I just cracked my knuckle it’s not a big deal” reader shrugs

“Human bones cracking is a very big deal, you act like this is an everyday occurrence”

“I mean yeah I creak my bones all time, knuckles, back, sometimes my neck but that one’s a little scary”

They look at you as if you just told them your favourite food was nails

“Please don’t ever say this in front of him or else you might end up in a full body cast”

“Hey it’s not like you guys don’t do horrifying things to! The way you guys only eat things that are alive for example”

“What’s the point in eating things that are already dead?”

“That’s gross!”

“It is not!”

[fadedpiink]

after everyone's asleep

txt x gn!reader

somewhat specific nights with txt

genre: fluff / comfort / slice of life / soft boyfriends / established relationship. warnings: none. just soft and warm. just the kind of night where the world slows down and you remember what it feels like to be safe.

author's note: this has been in the drafts for 2 weeks cus i wasn't sure if i liked it fr BUT this is my first time writing for txt/kpop in general! :3 so lmk what u guys think

soobin — windows cracked open, the sound of crickets and a soft breeze sneaking into the room. you’re both tangled in a mess of limbs, too lazy to fix the blanket even though it’s half falling off the bed. soobin’s voice is sleepy, low and mumbly.

“why’re you still awake... come here.”

his arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer. his cheek rests against the top of your head, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. the moonlight slices through the blinds, but neither of you move to shut it out. it’s quiet. peaceful. the kind of night where the world could end and you wouldn’t even care, not as long as you’re in his arms.

yeonjun — the air conditioner is humming but his body is always warm against yours, especially when he lets you steal his oversized t-shirt to sleep in. his hand finds yours under the covers and absentmindedly squeezes it, his thumb brushing over your knuckles like muscle memory.

“you’re comfy,” he mutters, half-asleep, “think i’m gonna keep you forever.”

you’re both stretched out on the couch, feet tangled under the throw blanket, some random drama playing on mute because the real entertainment is whispering nonsense back and forth until one of you drifts off. the room smells like popcorn and laundry detergent. safe. soft. home.

beomgyu — your window is open and the fan’s blowing but the summer heat still sticks to your skin, so he’s sprawled on the floor, you curled up next to him, both too lazy to move. every so often his hand reaches out to brush against yours, like he just needs to remind himself you’re there.

“wanna go get ice cream,” he mumbles, staring at the ceiling. “it’s 1am.” “...so?”

the night feels endless, like you’re both the only two people alive. your laughter fades into soft humming, and eventually into silence, both of you just existing together in the glow of streetlights sneaking through the curtains.

taehyun — soft lo-fi playing from the speaker, a half-empty glass of water on the nightstand, and his hoodie hanging off your frame because he noticed you shiver once. your legs are tangled under the blanket, arms free, and he’s holding your hand under the pillow like it’s second nature.

“are you warm enough?” he asks, brushing your cheek. you nod. “are you?” his lips twitch into a tiny smile. “i am now.”

the night passes slow, calm, full of quiet conversations about nothing and everything. the kind of night you wish you could bottle up and save for when the world feels too loud.

huening kai — the windows are fogged up from the rain, the room dim except for the string lights he insisted on hanging. he’s laying on the floor with you, both staring at the ceiling like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“do you think the stars miss us when it rains?” “what?” “just wondering.”

he turns his head and smiles at you, soft and sleepy. your hands find each other in the space between. the rain taps against the glass, steady and slow, and you both drift off right there on the floor, warm skin against warm skin, hearts beating slow and safe.

masterlist hope you enjoyed! please like + reblog to show support, and feel free to leave feedback and comments through rb tags or anon messages!

© fadedpiink 2025

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Upon seeing his massive manhood, you trembled and struggled even harder, beyond your prior limits. But it was hopeless.

Obsessed Drider: "Don't fret! It'll feel so so good I promise!"

You were swaddled in extremely strong webbing that just wouldn't yield. Only your face and neck were unshrouded.

He took a clawed finger and used it to slice away all the webbing. But before you had a chance to run, he had you in his arms, teeth sunk into your neck releasing a tiny fraction of his venom.

Not enough to knock you out, just enough to make you wobbly and unable to struggle now that you were unwrapped.

Obsessed Drider: "There we go, nice and relaxed~"

He held you close and angled his cock up into you, pumping you full over the course of the next couple hours.

The venom had worn off but then you were left in a hellish prison of overstimulated pleasure. Your hole abused as he continued battering away at it with his cock.

You couldn't do much other than whimper, wiggle, and cry as he continued to have his way with you, each of his climaxes filling you with even more eggs as he kissed you and wiped away your tears.

He placed one of his four hands on your egg stretched belly as he continued breeding you.

Obsessed Drider: "I know you're tired, but just a few more, darling! You're such a good incubator for me~"

Obsessed Male Drider who has been carefully stalking you for months and has finally decided to confront you when you are alone in the forest: "Hey, do you realize how cute you'd look stuffed with my eggs?"

The next thing you see is a wad of webbing flying towards you. You struggle wildly on the ground but after feeling two pin pricks to the neck you go limp.

[talon-the-hawk]

Yandere Batfam! x Neglected Streamer! Reader

Previous

Chapter 3: Gone

TW: Yet again I state yandere themes...it literally says it in the title

Damian wandered the halls of the manor quickly, every stride purposeful as his destination drew nearer.

The west wing.

Once an esteemed part of the manor, the west wing wing had been left to rot for years. After the passing of Bruce's parents, the area where he used to sleep as a child came with all the painful memories of his mother reading him to sleep and helping him get ready for school. His old childhood bedroom had been boarded up, and the whole wing had been abandoned after that.

You had been given a room there shortly after being adopted, the peeling wallpaper making you wrinkle your nose. Bruce had always claimed that the placement was temporary until he could get a new room fixed up for you...but the constant need to help save Gotham flung that promise from his mind within the first 12 hours of making it.

Damian silently observed the degrading state of the halls as he walked, eyeing the thick layer of dust that had settled on everything. What set off his internal alarms was the amount of dust that had was on the various paintings and vases on display. It looked like it hadn't been attended to for at least six months, but there wasn't enough to indicated years worth of neglect.

His steps paused as he reached your old door. Damian's hands twitched, faltering before reaching for the knob.

Why? Why did something feel wrong?

It was absurd. He was raised by the Al Ghuls, he was trained to be a lethal weapon...and yet he found himself hesitating at a mere door.

"Y/n. We need to talk." He spoke, waiting patiently for a response. When he didn't get one, he opened the door and stepped inside.

What he saw made him freeze, or rather the lack of what he saw did so.

Empty. Your room was empty. Nothing but peeling paint and the bare bones of a bookshelf & bedframe remained. His gaze roamed the room, searching for anything to help him determine where you were.

"Y/n..?" He spoke again, voice quieter as he took another step inside. Every footstep echoed as he walked, each sound a constant reminder of how bare your room was. One conclusion came to mind as he investigated, and he felt his jaw tick.

You were gone. You've been gone for a while judging by the stale air and dust collection. There was no signs of struggle, and none of the manor's alarms had gone off that he could remember, meaning you had likely left of your own accord.

Did father know? Were any of his siblings aware of your departure from the manor? If they were, why didn't they say anything to him? You weren't like the rest of them. You were weak, and weak things couldn't survive on their own in the Gotham streets.

Damian felt something burning in his chest, just below his diaphragm. Guilt? Worry? He wasn't sure. What was there to even worry about? It wasn't his fault you had been so susceptible to his mocking. He was trying to make you understand what the world was really like; it wasn't his fault you were so emotional about everything.

So then why? Why did he feel bad about every time he sent you running out crying? Why did he feel so bad about all the times he had threatened you or mocked your lineage?

You were always the competition for the estate, for the Wayne legacy. If anything, he should be elated that you've suddenly vanished. Instead all he felt was the ache in his lower stomach, and the dull throb of his jaw as it clenched relentlessly. He wasn't even aware that he had pulled his phone out, already dialing up the number he knew could help locate and retrieve his older sibling.

He was doing this for you. He'd make sure to educate you on why you can't survive without the family once he got you back.

Dick had made himself a promise to invite you out to dinner to properly congratulate you on your fame. He had spent the past few hours running around and getting a cake, making sure the bakery had the words 'Congratulations, Baby Bird!' written elegantly in frosting and everything. He hummed to himself as he looked it over, chest puffing up with pride when it looked spectacular.

It was perfect, just like his favourite little sibling deserved.

He was practically skipping as he went to find your room, trying not to think about the sorry state your area of the manor was in compared to his.

Ah, it doesn't matter. He'd quickly have you moved into his old room so that he could make sure you were living comfortably where he could find you easily next time he visited from Blüdhaven.

"Baby bird? I heard about you reaching 2 mil the other day! I brought a cake to celebrate and everything, I'm so proud of-" He began, freezing when he stepped into the open door and saw nothing but Damian.

"They're gone." The youngest spoke, covering his tone in fake indifference.

"Gone? What do you mean gone?" Dick echoed, the smile melting off his face.

"I don't know." Damian replied, arm motioning towards the room. "They're gone. Appeared as if they haven't resided here for at least 6 months."

Dick felt himself set the cake down, a mild panic rising in his chest.

"How? What? They- they couldn't have just left-"

"Evidently, they did." Damian spoke.

"No...no. They're too young. Gotham will eat them alive, Damian. W-what if they get robbed? What if they get mugged? Or murderered? What if they get hurt and we can't help them-" Dick rambled, pacing around the room as he bit his cheek in worry.

"Then we need to get them back before they can get hurt." Damian replied. "You'll talk to Jason. I'll talk to Father and Tim. We'll find them and bring them home."

When Jason first learned that Bruce had adopted two new kids shortly after his passing, he was pissed.

Had he really meant so little to the old man that he would go and pick up two more strays without a second thought?

For months he watched from the shadows as Bruce trained up a new robin, teaching him all the gimmicks and trades of the job. Watching how Tim received the same praise Bruce used to give him, the occasional physical affection the two shared almost making him sick. For the longest time, Jason hated Tim with every drop of his being. Everything the kid did seemed to be a slap in the face. Improving the manor's security, rapidly solving cases with Bruce, the rate in which he seemed to pick up fighting...all of it made him hate the Bat even more.

And then there was you.

If Tim was a replacement, you were some cheap knockoff trinket left to collect dust on a shelf. At least with Tim, Jason could understand that Bruce adopted him because he would be a good robin. But you? Why on earth would Bruce waste time taking in such an insignificant thing? You weren't a fighter, weren't an inventor...all you had was half of Bruce's DNA, and even then he heard that you only had that because Bruce got a little too drunk one night and decided to get it on with some low life drug dealer. Somehow that made you worthy to take the place in the manor that he once held? What a joke.

Oh if he hated Tim, then he despised you.

Of course, he never really saw you do anything. He never witnessed any interaction between you and Bruce. He never stuck around long enough to see if you got along with the family, he just assumed you did: because of course you did, didn't you? If you didn't...then all his hatred held no meaning. If you weren't a child that got fawned over by all of the family, if you weren't coddled by them, then all the anger he had bottled up towards you over the years was unjustified...and he couldn't have that.

So colour him surprised when he got a phone call from a frantic Dick, hurriedly rushing out words over the phone as he tried to convey the urgency of the situation to Jason.

You. Gone. No one knows where. This for some reason matters?

"Okay? What does this have to do with me?" Jason spoke, picking at one of his nails.

.

.

"We need you to find them, Jason."

Taglist: @vanessa-boo @jjsmeowthie @cxcilla @itsberrydreemurstuff @trashlanternfish360 @starsswaggy @legolas-the-homeschooled-elf @nickithearticorn @hallahella @lettucel0ver @kittzu @cssammyyarts @ryuushou @welpthisisboring @neverdead2 @mallowryblog @lingxio @the-dumber-scaramouche @oxionsworld @raini-sanchez @jellyedkazoo @alishii @bellethesleepypotato @icefox8155 @wizzerreblogs @darling-dearesttt @depressed--therapist @crazycaoticsimp @briceericeee

[lazy-ahh]

ONG DUDE CAN YOU PLEASE WRITE GOOGLE-LESS/LENSLESS MARK PLS I'M BEGGING I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS 🙏🙏

HOW TO (NOT) CONFESS YOUR FEELINGS VIA ATTEMPTED MURDER

pairing goggle-less! mark grayson x gender neutral reader

they say violence is a love language—and yours is practically poetry. mark grayson knows this better than anyone. (or: the one where you punch him in the face daily and he still looks at you like you hung the fucking moon.)

taglist @hhoneylemon , @queermaeda , @yujensstuff , @thebatsgreatestfailure , @roryroro

the sun is barely up, casting a weak orange glow through your half-open curtains, and you already want to punch mark grayson in the face.

it’s not even his fault this time (which is rare, because usually, it is), but the way he’s sprawled across your bed like some overgrown golden retriever—limbs everywhere, taking up way too much space—grinning at you like he knows exactly how much he’s getting on your nerves, it’s infuriating. his hair is a disaster, sticking up in every direction like he just flew here at top speed (he probably did), and oh look, he’s stretching out another one of your favorite shirts because now he’s got more muscle on him, thanks to his stupid viltrumite genes and training. he’s got that look in his eye, the one that means trouble, the one he’s had since you were both dumb kids throwing rocks at each other in second grade.

back then, you hated him. or at least, you told yourself you did. he was loud, obnoxious, always pushing your buttons just to see how far he could go before you snapped. but even then, there was something about him—the way he never backed down, never flinched when you shoved him, punched him, kicked him, just laughed like your anger was the best thing he’d ever seen. you told yourself it was annoying. you told yourself you couldn’t stand him.

(like that one time in fourth grade, when your parents forgot your birthday—again. you sat alone at lunch, picking at the sad little cupcake your nanny had packed for you, trying to ignore the hollow ache in your chest. then he showed up, grinning like an idiot, elbowing you hard enough to make you drop your fork. "what’s your problem, grumpy?" he’d teased, and something inside you snapped.

you don’t even remember who threw the first punch. all you remember is the scuffle, the way your knuckles stung when they connected with his jaw, the way he laughed even as his lip split open. the teachers dragged you both to the principal’s office, scolding you for fighting, but you didn’t care. you were too busy simmering in your own misery, glaring at the floor like it had personally wronged you.

then, out of nowhere, mark nudged you. when you didn’t look up, he nudged you again, harder. 

"hey," he whispered. you finally glanced over, ready to snap at him—only to freeze when he dropped something into your lap. a small, slightly dented action figure—the limited edition space knight you’d been obsessing over for months but could never afford. its paint was chipped at the edges, one arm loose in its socket, but it was unmistakably yours, the one you’d pressed your nose against the toy store window for, the one you’d never admitted out loud that you wanted.

your breath caught.

mark’s grin was crooked, his split lip still smudged with dried blood. "saw it at the thrift store last week," he said, like it was nothing. like he hadn’t remembered. like he hadn’t carried it around in his backpack just in case. "figured you’d wanna beat it up or whatever. y’know. since you like breaking my stuff."

you stared at it, your chest too tight. idiot, you thought. absolute idiot.

(you still have it, tucked away in your desk drawer where no one can see. even now, you’ll sometimes take it out when you’re alone, turning it over in your hands, pretending you don’t smile.)

his smile was bright, warm, completely at odds with the bruise forming on his cheek. "happy birthday," he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

you never asked how he knew. you never thanked him either—just scowled and jammed the figurine deep into your pocket before the principal dragged you in. but that night, alone in your room with the door locked, you carefully glued the loose arm back in place, smoothed out the chipped paint with your thumb, and spent way too long arranging dramatic battle scenes on your bedsheets. you told yourself the wetness on your cheeks was just from yawning too hard.)

now, at seventeen, you know the truth: you never stood a chance.

the memory fades like sunlight through closing fingers, leaving you staring down at mark where he’s still sprawled across your bed, grinning up at you like an idiot who’s won some secret game. he waits, smug, until the silence stretches too long—then he chuckles, tilting his head just enough to make his stupid hair catch the light. "did you even hear what i said?"

you roll your eyes so hard it aches, turning back to your homework like the scattered papers and dog-eared comics might save you. your desk is chaos—pencils chewed at the ends, textbooks splayed open to the wrong chapters, a half-finished doodle of (embarrassingly) mark in the margins. it’s as messy as the thoughts in your head. "i’m sure it wasn’t anything important anyway."

your brows furrow deeper, teeth gritting just slightly when mark laughs—that laugh, the one that starts low in his chest and spills out like he can’t contain it, bright and reckless as a car crash you can’t look away from. it hooks under your ribs, warm and irritating, like sunlight burning through closed eyelids. you hate it. (you crave it.)

mark's laughter settles into quiet huffs, but he doesn't look away. no, it's worse than that—he's studying you like you're some priceless artifact behind glass, his gaze tracing the curve of your frown, the way your fingers twitch around your pencil, the barely-there flush creeping up your neck. it's not piercing. it's reverent. the way morning light memorizes every detail of a landscape it's about to paint in gold, the way a poet lingers on a favorite verse, committing each syllable to memory. it makes your skin prickle, makes you want to both hide and lean closer.

then,

"how do i know if i have a crush on someone?" casual as anything, like he hasn't just turned your room upside down with his presence yet again, like he hasn't made himself at home in your space, in your head, in the quiet places between your ribs where you store all the things you'll never say out loud.

you glare hard enough to bruise, knuckles whitening around your pencil. "not my problem," you mutter, but the words lack their usual bite. when he just keeps looking at you with those stupid hopeful eyes, you cave with a growl. "fine. you can't stop thinking about them. you feel all...weird when they're around. and then you want to—" your voice catches as you finally register his expression, the softness there that wasn't there before. "—why are you looking at me like that."

because he is. looking at you like you're the last firework of summer bursting against a midnight sky—all spark and glow and unbearable brightness. that stupid, lopsided grin cutting across his face like he knows a secret, eyes crinkled at the corners and focused with terrifying intensity, like you're the only thing in this messy room, in this entire city, maybe in his whole damn universe that matters. it makes your stomach swoop like you're falling from a great height, makes your pulse stutter in that traitorous way you'll never admit out loud, and you hate it. you hate how warm it makes you feel. you hate how much you don't hate it at all.

"no reason," he says, but the words dance with barely contained laughter, too light and too amused and too everything. he props his chin on his palm, fingers drumming an absent rhythm against his cheekbone, still watching you with that infuriating focus. "just thinking."

"thinking is dangerous for you," you snap automatically, your hand already moving to flick his forehead hard enough to sting. but he doesn't even blink—just leans into the contact like a cat seeking pets, his laughter bubbling up like carbonation in a shaken soda can. ever since the viltrumite blood decided to make him near-indestructible, he's become absolutely insufferable, turning every shove, every punch, every irritated smack into some twisted game where the prize is the way your hands linger a second too long against his skin. (and you know he loves it. the freak. the absolute, irredeemable, beautiful freak who makes your chest ache with something terrifyingly close to affection.)

if people knew this was invincible—son of omni-man, earth's 'golden boy', the living weapon who could level city blocks before breakfast—they'd piss themselves at the thought of laying hands on him. they'd tremble at the idea of shoving him, of snapping at him, of treating him like anything less than the walking natural disaster he is. but you? you've never been normal. and this isn't invincible. this is mark. the same mark who used to eat glue sticks in second grade, who cried during disney movies, who still sleeps with that ratty old seance dog poster above his bed. you knew him when he was just a scrawny kid with scraped knees and too-big dreams and questionable morals, and that knowledge makes him somehow more terrifying than any superpower ever could. maybe that's why you're like this—two fucked-up puzzle pieces that somehow fit together despite all the jagged edges.

"c'mon," he says, rolling onto his back with that infuriating, effortless grace that shouldn't belong to someone so stupidly powerful. his arms stretch above his head, muscles flexing beneath golden skin as his stupid shirt (your shirt) rides up—revealing the sharp v of his hips, the tantalizing trail of dark hair leading south, that unfairly sculpted abdomen that looks like it was carved from marble by some greek god with too much time on their hands. you can see the way his sweatpants sit dangerously low on his waist, the faint outline of—nope. absolutely not. you swallow hard, throat suddenly dry, and pointedly focus on your homework like it holds the secrets of the universe instead of just random scribbling.

"you're the expert on this stuff, right?" he continues, completely oblivious (or more likely, completely aware) of what he's doing to you. his voice drops into that teasing lilt that makes your stomach do backflips. "so tell me more."

"expert?" you scoff, digging your nails into your palms just to feel something other than whatever the hell his smile is doing to your insides. "what, because i've rejected every loser who's ever asked me out? because i don't fall for cheap lines and emptier promises?"

"because you're you," he says, simple as breathing, easy as gravity. like it's the most obvious truth in the world. like you hung the stars yourself instead of just being some messed-up kid who never learned how to love gently.

(it makes your chest ache something fierce, a dull throb beneath your sternum that feels suspiciously like hope. you crush it immediately, shoving it down deep where it can't ruin you.)

"shut up," you mutter, grabbing the nearest pillow and swinging it at his face with enough force to knock out a normal person. but mark isn't normal—he's mark, so he just lets it smack into him full-force, the impact sending his stupid hair flying in every direction while that infuriating grin never wavers. if anything, it grows wider, like you just handed him a gift instead of attempted assault with a throwable object.

"see, this is what i mean," he says, voice muffled by the down-filled fabric still pressed against his face. when he finally pushes it aside, his cheeks are flushed pink from the impact, eyes sparkling with something dangerously close to affection. "you're so violent with me. it's kinda cute." he says it like it's a revelation, like he's just now realizing how your sharp edges fit perfectly against his soft spots. because that's the thing about mark—he's invincible to the world, but for you? for you, he's always been vulnerable. he loves the way your punches linger a second too long, how your insults carry the weight of inside jokes, how every shove and smack and pillow-to-the-face is just your fucked-up way of saying 'i care' without having to say it at all.

"i will end you." the threat would carry more weight if your voice didn't crack halfway through.

"you won't." his reply is instant, smug, accompanied by that look—the one that says he knows you better than you know yourself.

you growl, grabbing another pillow and launching it at him with all the pent-up frustration of a thousand unresolved tensions. but this time he catches it, his laughter bubbling up as he yanks it toward him—and because the universe hates you, the momentum sends you stumbling forward until suddenly you're way too close, noses almost brushing, his stupid warm eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that steals the breath from your lungs. his grip on the pillow tightens just slightly, and for one terrifying, exhilarating moment, you think he might actually close the distance between you.

your heart does something unforgivable—a traitorous somersault that leaves you breathless, your pulse hammering against your ribs like it's trying to escape. you can feel the warmth creeping up your neck, the way your palms suddenly feel too clammy against his stupidly firm chest.

"...you're the worst," you mumble, but the words come out all wrong—too soft, too fond, lacking their usual venom. your voice betrays you, cracking just slightly at the edges like it always does when he gets under your skin like this.

"you love me," he counters immediately, that smug, shit-eating grin spreading across his face like wildfire. he says it like it's fact, like it's written in the stars or carved into the fucking constitution, and the worst part is he's right. he's always been right.

you shove him away with more force than necessary, desperate to put space between you before he notices the way your face burns hotter than a supernova. "in your dreams, grayson," you snap, but the effect is ruined by how your voice wavers.

he just laughs—that bright, unrestrained sound that makes your stomach do backflips—before flopping back onto your bed like some overgrown golden retriever, limbs splayed out like he owns the place. and you could kick him out. you could scream, could throw his stupid jacket at his head, could pretend he means nothing to you like you've done a thousand times before.

but you don't.

(because the truth is, you'd rather die than admit it, but he's carved out a space for himself in your chest, nestled right between your ribs, and you can't remember what your heartbeat sounded like before it learned to sync with his. the truth is, you're terrified of how empty the world would feel without his laughter echoing through it. the truth is, you're so, so fucked.)

2.4k of my FAVOURITE INVINCIBLE VARIANT and GO AHEAD AND CALL ME A BASIC BITCH but look at this little guy i love him and his little twisted(?) sense of love and how he thinks that reader's love language is violence and how he takes the hits but never EVER gets violent with reader and AHHHHHHHHHHHHH