#This. Got. A bit long. Teehee.

[littlehoundthings]

@crosaidi: I was sure it was the best way. The only way.

"Is that going to be your excuse every bloody time?" Asheriel hissed out as he balled his fists against his forehead. "Maker's breath I cannot count how many times I've patched you up- and THIS is just!" Paerin was bleeding out, and Ashe was the only one around who could patch him together, but he was inexperienced as a healer still, and could only patch up surface wounds.

"Fuck fuck fuck-" Ashe hissed out as he tugged at his hair in thought. Tears burned at his eyes, but he blinked them away to focus on the moment. There had to be something. "You stUPID motherfucker! You just had t'let me get hit! You just had t'let me take it! Now you're gunna bloody die and it's all my fuckin' fault!" Asheriel yelled as he tried to think again and again as he thumped his fist on the ground.

Paerin's eyes were closing.

His heart was slowing down.

Think. THINK. THINK.

He paused. Looking over at his hand. Paerin's blood still clung to it. Blood.

Blood.

Asheriel's heart felt like it was beating into his skull. He could do this. Just this one. Little. Indiscretion. No one had to know. The templars didn't have to know. The Grey Wardens didn't have to know... Even Paerin didn't have to know.

And so. He took in. A deep. Breath.

Held it.

And let it go.

Asheriel slowly drew his knife, before holding up his palm. His knife shook as he thought of the consequences of what he was about to do. Come now. Breath. This is all for others, after all. You're supposed to be the protector, the healer, their guardian. What's a little stain on the soul for the sake of the people around you?

What significance does your life hold, if you cannot protect others?

"Blood for the hunt," Asheriel murmured the command phrase, closing his eyes and giving into the sweet release of the auto-hypnosis. His body began to relax. Yes. This was the correct choice.

"Blood for the magic." His knife sliced across his palm. Sputters of crimson embers erupted from his palm before he pushed it against Paerin's wound.

"You aren't gettin' t'rest that easily, you bastard," Asheriel muttered as he felt the imaginary flames burning at his nerves. Mana and reality twisted with his will-- cast through his blood and through Paerin's veins. Repair the flesh. Replace the blood. Refill the vessel of life once again. Asheriel gasped as the magic finished, doubling over Paerin as the last sputters of crimson flame left his wound, and it quickly scabbed over. He quickly wrapped his hand with a bandage, tugged on a glove, before looking down at Paerin.

"C'mon c'mon c'mon--" He muttered, touching Paerin's neck.

.....ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum.

The sheer relief on his face was temporarily marred by the feeling of fire being poured into his veins from igniting his blood into mana. Asheriel gasped, clutching his arm for a long moment, before getting up again.

Congratulations, Asheriel. You saved a life. You were useful.

Asheriel let out his breath.

Before raising a hand.

And smacking Paerin across the cheek back and forth.

"C'mon you lazy bastard. No free naps around here. We need t'get back to camp."

[zaacoy]

happy freenoodles friday! The silly husbands again because they are soft :3

[amiharana]

au where link runs a daycare and one day as he's waiting with all the kids during pickup, this guy he's never seen before comes in asking for a kid, and the girl runs up to the guy and is like "uncle revali!!" all happily but link is like "you're not the parent that normally picks her up, how do I know you're not trying to kidnap her 🤨" and revali gets all pissy like "duh, I'm her uncle and I'm just picking her up this one time bc her parents are busy🙄" and so he has to show like id verification and confirmation from the parents that he's authorized to pick the kid up from daycare but whatever, link is just glad that this was a one time thing and he doesn't have to deal with the guy again..

until! revali keeps coming back to pick up the kid (I still dunno why so don't ask me). and link and revali keep talking to each other, and revali realizes how well link works with kids and link realizes that revali is just very protective of his niece and he loves her a lot 🤭

ok but have you ever seen ted lasso because revali is LITERALLY roy kent like.. idk how to describe it if you haven't seen the show but roy kent curses a lot and has a bad attitude, but it's just out of love and what his circumstances required, and he's sooo sweet with his niece!! anyways that's 100% revali idc

crow this au is so cute 😭🤍🤍 i have not seen ted lasso but i will take your word for it bc that sounds very revali-like 💪💯

do you think link would want to have initially pursued childcare as his career? i feel like he wouldn't have even considered it as a possible career choice until having a Awakening™ like imagine link is a nursing student at first because he knows that the job brings in good money, and he's doing clinicals in a pediatric ward for a shift when a crying kid and her very anxious father come in. turns out, she's broken a bone after a nasty fall and link's clinical instructor assigns link to work with her. at first, link is nervous because this is the first time he's ever worked in the pediatric ward and he's never really worked with little kids before so he's not sure how to approach the whole situation.

but then link gets to talk to her 🥺 her name is aster, she's seven years old, and she wants to become a dancer! the reason why she's in the hospital in the first place is because she was trying to do a dance move she learned in her classes, but she spun too hard and landed really badly on her wrist 🥺🥺 link nods because he relates, he too loved to dance as a child, and he still dances a little in his free time (while admittedly is not a lot because nursing is kicking his ass). he shares this with aster (minus the getting his ass kicked), and the whole conversation calms her down enough for his instructor to start leading them over to the x-ray room to get a proper diagnosis of the broken wrist. the whole time they're doing the x-ray, link and aster just keep on talking about what kind of music they like to dance to, their favorite dance moves, etc. and they get through the x-ray with no issues!

the injury ends up not being too severe and they won't need to do any surgical procedures (aster's father medda is very relieved at this point), but they do have to realign the bone in order to put it into the cast and have it heal properly. dr. deku (link's instructor) says they'll have to use a local anesthesia, and when aster asks what that is, he explains that they have to inject her with a needle and the poor girl pales.

internally, link facepalms (dr. deku isn't very good with dealing with kids, is he?) and he tells aster, "hey, it's gonna be okay! you wanna fix your wrist so you can go back to dancing, right? but we have to give you the anesthesia so that your wrist won't hurt too much when we put it back where it's supposed to be." it comforts her a little, but she's still quiet and wide-eyed about the needle, so link kneels in front of her and keeps talking. "i know it's scary, but i promise, the needle will hurt less than when you hurt your wrist. you're so strong and brave, it's gonna be like nothing! and if you let us fix your wrist, i'll teach you one of my favorite dances when you're all better. how does that sound?" slowly, aster physically relaxes, nodding quietly. and link smiles. "that's it! i'll be here to hold your hand if you get scared, okay?"

so they inject the anesthesia, correct the bone position, apply the cast, and it all goes smoothly! aster squeezes link's hand once during the injection, but she puts on a brave face and link tells her he is very proud of her :) dr. deku finishes up the procedure and talks to medda about at-home treatment, insurance, etc., while link talks to aster telling her she was very brave and that she's going to heal in no time :> before they leave, aster gives link a hug (with her non-broken wrist arm lol) and tells him, "thank you for holding my hand mr. link. i was scared for a little bit, but you helped me not to be!"

and that's kind of the moment that link is like. Wow! That was really cool and i think i would like to work with kids! he ends up really enjoying his time in the pediatric ward and he eventually graduates with his nursing degree specializing in pediatrics, but when it comes to actually getting a job... link doesn't want to do nursing anymore 😳 he wants to work in childcare 🥺

so after graduating, link looks into how he can open his own daycare but there's. a lot going on. you have to get certifications, go to orientations, get licensing and look into zoning if you open your own facility, not to mention the supplies and resources he would need, it's just so much :(( so link decides to get a job at a local daycare first, that way he can save up money and get the experience working with kids to make sure this is what he wants to do and it is ✋😭 he has no more doubts, this is for sure what he wants to do in his life, he just luvs taking care of little kids he is so hashtag mother

link spends a couple years working to save money to build his own daycare and one day he does! he finally opens the 'second sunrise' daycare on hateno street. his sister zelda becomes the manager/receptionist, while her gf mipha ends wanting to work there because she loves kids too! she loved raising her younger brother sidon so she has a natural affinity for childcare which is exactly what link needs to run this place >:] it all works out and the daycare becomes moderately popular with many families leaving their children at the second sunrise daycare, their children always well taken care of <3

now. here's the actual revalink part. HAHAHAH sorry i got super invested in how link would have gotten into childcare

molli is one of link's favorite kids to take care of at the daycare. she's a very sweet sleepy kid and likes to sit with link to tell him all about the stories and fairytales her grandfather used to tell her about before he passed. her father harth is the one who drops her off and picks her up and at first, the dude was kind of standoffish and quiet. over time, link was able to break the ice with harth and now they chat and catch up every time he comes to drop off and pick up molli ^^

there's one day where harth comes in the morning to drop off molli, but he doesn't come at the normal time that he picks her up, and link is starting to get worried. this is very not like harth at all... but molli doesn't give a shit tho she's peacefully sleeping in one of the naptime cots LMFAOKDJHFJD until finally a stranger that link has never seen before enters the daycare looking disgruntled and disheveled. he talks to zelda at the receptionist desk but she looks over to link with a somewhat nonplussed look, so he looks over to make sure mipha is handling everything in the main room before going over to the front.

"hi, is there a problem here?" link says, looking over at the stranger. he's taller than link with white streaks in his dark hair, narrow green eyes, and a furrow in his brow. he's kinda hot...

"yes, there is a problem," the man says through gritted teeth. "i just need to pick up my niece and your receptionist won't allow me to."

link raises a brow. "your niece? what's her name?"

"molli," the man replies. somehow, link thinks he hears his voice soften, but it doesn't negate the biting tone in his next words. "her father sent me to get her as no one else could and i see myself as a good enough person to run such an errand."

link crosses his arms and leans against the desk. "molli's father usually picks her up at 4pm sharp. why would he send you to come get her? do you even know his name?"

the man rolls his eyes. "of course i do, his name is—"

"uncle revali!" comes a little shout, and link turns to see molli waddling over to the man, her hair still messy from her nap. he looks back at the man, now identified as "revali", but his eyes are only molli, his shrewd green gaze softening as he crouches into a squat, extending his arms as molli throws herself into hugging him.

he wraps his arms around her and returns her embrace gently. "hey sleepyhead," revali says. "ready to go home?"

"where's papa?" molli says instead, and the man sighs. he lifts molli up easily with her arms around revali's neck.

"your dad's a little busy right now, darling, that's why i'm here to come get you today." revali looks back at link and zelda expectantly. "well? it's clear she knows who i am. are you going to keep interrogating me?"

"i'm afraid we have to at the very least verify your identity," zelda says. "it's protocol, since you're not the parent that normally picks her up and neither did we receive confirmation from the parent who does that someone else would be coming in. it would be a safety violation if we let her go with you without verification."

"oh, for hylia's sake," revali growls, rolling his eyes. "do i need to call harth for you right now?"

"that would be preferable," link says, giving revali a once over. "for all we know, you could be stalking their family and have been manipulating molli." revali shoots a glare at him, but pulls out his phone and taps at it a few times before they hear the ringing. after three rings, the call takes and revali puts it on speaker.

"revali?" comes harth's voice. he sounds tired and pained, and it instantly puts link on high alert. "did you get molli yet?"

"i could have, if your daycare would let me leave with her," revali grumbles. "they said i have to get my identification verified because it's a safety violation."

harth snorts over the phone. "yeah well, you aren't exactly the most friendly looking guy. can you hand the phone to one of the staff?"

"you're on speaker."

"mm. hey link? you there?"

"i'm here," link says, leaning towards the phone. "is everything okay, harth? why weren't you able to pick up molli yourself?" he glances at revali, who's still glaring at him.

harth sighs, a tinny breath through the speaker. "i would have, but i got in a car accident on the way over. i'm in the hospital right now." link's eyes widen and zelda gasps, covering her mouth with both hands. "i'm mostly okay, but my arm's fractured so i'm gonna be off for a couple weeks and i won't be able to drive... but since i'm the only who takes care of molli, i'll probably still have her over at sunrise like normal since i can't really take care of her like this. she likes it there anyway... she tells me all about how you're her favorite caretaker, link."

link smiles for a moment, but it turns back into a frown as he remembers something. "wait, how are you going to get her over here if you can't drive?"

"that guy who's with you there right now is an old friend of mine, revali. molli will call him 'uncle' but we're not actually related, it's just what she calls him. i don't have any friends who can actually babysit molli themselves, since teba and saki are gonna be covering my shifts at work and amali's got her hands full with her own kids. revali works, but he can at least take molli to and from sunrise at the normal times i do drop offs and pickups. you can take care of her still, right?"

"of course we can," link replies softly. "we're just worried about you too, you know. how bad was the fracture?"

"they said it was a transverse radial fracture and that it'll take about six weeks to heal. don't feel too bad, it's not like you were there to fix me up with a splint or something. i'll be fine. insurance is taking care of the crash and the injuries."

"okay," link says. "we'll have to register revali in our system as a confirmed parent for molli's file for our safety protocols. that okay with you?" he gets a hum of confirmation over the phone. "okay. i'll take care of that here. you rest up, we'll try to come visit you soon. take care, harth."

"you too. thanks, link." the call ends and revali pockets his phone again, adjusting his grip on molli in his arms.

"is papa gonna be okay?" molli says looking up at revali. link's heart cracks in two at the quiet, sad tone of the child's voice, and watches the way revali's eyes soften as he looks back at molli. interesting...

"your dad's going to be just fine, darling," he says softly. "he's a very strong and brave man, he can get through anything, don't worry."

"can we go see him?" she says.

revali pauses for a moment before responding. "sure, sweetheart, we can go see him." and link's heart just shatters.

they have revali sign a couple things for the confirmed parent paperwork and verify his identity with a government-issued ID, and let him go, link and zelda waving at molli as she waves back and snuggles into revali's hold. revali nods at them in silent acknowledgement and turns, leaving the daycare with zelda and link at the desk.

"he was kind of attractive once you get past the prickliness, don't you think?" zelda says, breaking the silence. link rolls his eyes and walks back into the main room with mipha. (he won't admit that he agrees 😄)

this shit is so long now LOL but revali coming in every morning and afternoon to drop off and pick up molli every weekday for the next couple of weeks. he mostly doesn't say anything and just nods, a surly look on his face when he interacts with link and zelda but the softest look in his eyes when he hugs molli goodbye or in greeting when he picks her up. it's so interesting to link, how someone this much of a pretentious dickhead could be so tender towards one of the sweetest children ever.

he tries striking up conversation with revali, just small talk, but revali only gives him short cold answers. it reminds link of how harth used to be when he first started coming to the daycare, and link wonders if he can get through to revali eventually. (he hopes he can; he does think revali is kinda fine 🤑 especially since one of his fav kids loves revali so much)

"your earrings are beautiful," link says one day when revali is dropping molli off. he's wearing little jade green hoops; they're simple, but they're elegant.

and the compliment catches revali off-guard. he reaches up with one hand to touch one of the hoops gently. "thank you..." he murmurs. "they're... a family heirloom."

link smiles at him. they're making progress! "they're beautiful," he repeats. "see you later?"

"yes..." revali says, blinking. "see you later..." link and molli wave goodbye as revali leaves the daycare, subconsciously reaching up to touch his earrings with his other hand.

it goes like that for a while; simple compliments about accessories or clothing or hairstyles (revali came in once with his hair in braids and link internally swooned a little, but kept his friendly facade up).

"...do you know any good coffee places nearby?" revali says, another time he's dropping molli off. it catches link by surprise since revali never initiates conversation, but he quickly turns it into a thoughtful look.

"hm... the east wind cafe is just down the street from here," link says. "they also have some food if you need a quick bite. tell pruce and ivee i sent you and they'll give you a discount for your first order." link winks. "i recommend their caramel macchiato."

"i will... keep that in consideration," revali says. he gives link a slight nod. "i'll see you later." he pauses, looking like he wants to say more. "have a good day."

link smiles. "you too, revali."

i talked a bit about this au to my irl who i've converted into revalinkism (but hasn't played botw yet 😒) and they were like This has so much potential for a slow burn, and they're SO true for that. it takes 15 conversations like this before revali and link even imply the idea of going out with each other in a romantic context

"have you always been a part of molli's life?" link asks when revali picks her up on one of those days.

revali hums as he picks molli up and holds her with one arm. "i was in the waiting room the day she was born," he said. "i felt as though i was in the actual hospital room as well, with how anxious i was."

he rubs molli's back as she snuggles drowsily into his hold. "there were complications during her birth, and i'm sure you're aware that she tends to be frequently drowsy like this, yes?" link nods. "molli has some health issues as a result of the circumstances of her birth, and i took part in caring for her back then when harth and her mother were struggling." revali presses a kiss to the top of molli's head. "she's like my own daughter, too. i would do anything for her."

once, revali comes in a little earlier than 4pm to pick up molli. zelda isn't at the receptionist desk because she's helping out mipha and link in the main room; the kids just had a little costume-and-tea party today! they've just finished and are in the middle of cleaning up, so revali just leans against the receptionist desk with his arm atop it, watching them do so.

link is sitting in the middle of the group, clapping his hands to a beat and singing that one barney clean-up song, leading a sing-a-long that the rest of the children are beginning to follow as they pick up their toys, give their costumes to zelda, and their plates to mipha. once they finish cleaning, link erupts into applause and cheers, causing the rest of the children to clap and cheer too. a couple of the kids, including molli, come to link for hugs, which he gives freely with a huge smile on his face telling the kids how they did such a good job of cleaning up and how he's proud of them.

he's a natural at this, revali thinks as he watches link continue to smile and cheer. it's like he was made to do this. he would probably make a really good parent...

suddenly, link meets his gaze from the main room and his cheeks flush pink, his eyes wide. and without really thinking about it, revali just gives him a small smile and an equally small wave. link blinks but smiles shyly, waving back.

the day that harth finally recovers from his fracture is the saddest day of link and revali's lives. can you believe they still haven't gotten each other's numbers or something at this point. they just keep kind of talking to each other twice a day when they see each other like complete losers. ✋😭

link gets a text from harth being like Hey, my arm is finally healed up. I'm heading back into work, and I can start taking Molli over again. See you again soon. and he shuts his phone off, puts it facedown, and just sits down at the receptionist desk with zelda. she rolls her eyes at him.

"you should just ask revali out already," she says, taking a sip from her tea and scrolling through her computer. "it's been how many weeks now?"

"i don't even know if he likes guys, zel," link says. she glances at him, giving him a look.

"even if he wasn't gay, he seems to really like you," she points out.

link presses his forehead against the desk. "don't give me hope. he just loves molli a lot."

"believe whatever you want to believe," zelda says, rolling her eyes again and going back to her work. "he looks at you like he loves you too."

when revali finds out harth is healed up and ready to go back, he doesn't even know how to respond. seeing link those two times of the day had been like. the highlight of his entire life for the past couple weeks. it's not like he can just randomly visit the daycare now that harth is going back to picking up molli. he should try to convince harth to let him continue taking molli under the guise that he just really loves his niece and harth needs more time to recover, or—

"stop making that face," harth says gruffly, clapping a hand on revali's shoulder. "you look scarier than i do."

"shut up," revali wrinkles his nose at harth. "not even a mask could conceal the ridiculous unsightliness you're bringing into the world."

harth snorts. "if i'm 'unsightly', what does that make molli?"

"a very pretty young lady," revali says primly. "are you sure you're her father?"

harth smacks revali's shoulder in jest, but continues. "tell me what's actually on your mind, old friend."

"nothing of particular relevance," revali lies cleanly. "just that i'm surprised you're willing to go back to driving so soon after recovery, when driving is what caused all this mess in the first place."

harth raises his brows. "so not about link?"

revali blinks rapidly, furrowing his own brow. "what?"

"molli keeps talking about how you and 'mr. link' have been getting along real well when you come to the daycare," harth says. "says you look happier talking to him."

"that's not true," revali sputters, flushing, "i'm just being polite since they're taking care of her after all and—"

"you're saying my little angel would lie?" harth says, amused. "she's more perceptive than you give her credit for, you know." then his expression becomes more serious. "you're one of my oldest friends, revali. i'm always going to encourage you to pursue what makes you happy and if it's my childcare provider that's doing it for you, then you should go for it."

"no, wait, that's not," revali chokes, but harth shakes his head, chuckling. "i'm not, i don't like him, he's—"

"you can go pick up molli for me since you want to see him so bad, it's almost 4," harth says, waving him off and turning to walk away. "link's a really nice kid, i get why you like him so much, so go ask him out already."

revali is left there, completely flabbergasted that he's been seen through. is he really not that subtle about it? (yes the closet is made out of glass babe you are NOT slick)

so revali goes over to the daycare, sullenly wondering if this is the last time he's going to see link ever because it would be weird if he showed up not to drop off or pick up molli, and when he enters, link, molli, and zelda are already waiting at the desk. zelda greets him, link waves, and molli waddles over latching herself to revali's leg.

"harth let us know that he was going to be able to start taking molli again," zelda says, as business-like as usual, and revali's heart begins to sink at the reality of it all, until— "but i forgot to ask him if he'd like to keep you on molli's file as an emergency contact? i'm not sure if he had someone else in mind, but seeing as you're his close friend and we already know you, it would be convenient for both of us."

"ah," revali says, blinking. "yes, just keep me as an emergency contact. if harth has problems with it, he'll let you know, but i doubt he will." he pats molli's head. "i'm the only other person he trusts to take care of her."

"perfect! i'll update that on her file then." zelda goes back to typing on her computer, and revali doesn't know where to look because if he looks at link, he doesn't know what he's going to do or what to say or—

"will this be the last time we see you?" link says and revali can't stop himself from meeting the blond's gaze. something about his voice seems sad, disappointed, but it can't be, why would he be sad or disappointed? he stares with wide blue eyes that keep revali rooted to the spot, almost lost in their own little world, until revali forcefully tears his gaze away.

"well," he says, swallowing, "if harth will continue taking molli, i don't have much of a reason to come back here anymore. it would be strange, wouldn't it? coming to a daycare with no child to leave or take with."

"i guess," link replies softly. and they fall quiet, the only sounds in the air being zelda's typing, the faint echo of children's' laughter in the main room, the soft music in the reception room.

"are you gonna miss mr. link?" molli asks suddenly, looking up at revali. his eyes widen and he opens his mouth, trying to scramble for an excuse, but zelda answers for him.

"i bet he's going to miss mr. link so much," zelda says, in a very matter-of-fact tone. "they're the bestest of friends and now they can't see each other anymore! your uncle and mr. link must be so sad, molli." link shoots zelda a glare but she only smirks back.

"no!" molli exclaims. "i don't want you to be sad!" she pulls on revali's pant leg. "you're gonna come back to see mr. link, right? because you're friends and friends always play see each other and play. don't be sad, uncle revali!"

"what if they had a playdate, molli?" zelda says, almost deviously. link whisper-shouts at her, blushing, but she ignores it to continue. "do you think mr. link and uncle revali would like to have a playdate together?"

"a playdate!" molli shouts. "uncle revali, you and mr. link should have a playdate! please? i don't want you to be sad, uncle revali, you're gonna miss mr. link if you don't see him anymore!" she pulls at his pant leg again, give him puppy-dog eyes. "you'll come see mr. link again, right?"

revali looks back up at link, who's blushing and leaning over the desk, telling his sister off, who's giggling behind her hand. he looks back, meeting revali's gaze and straightens, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. he's pretty, revali thinks faintly.

"i... wouldn't be opposed to a playdate with mr. link," revali says softly. and link's eyes widen, face flushing darker. zelda looks even more devious behind the desk.

"yay!" molli cheers, dancing in a circle. "mr. link and uncle revali playdate!"

"yay for playdate!" zelda cheers, raising a fist. "you'll have to exchange numbers for the playdate, though. how else are you going to plan it?" she smiles expectantly at revali.

"don't you already have my number on molli's file?" revali says, finding the voice to speak as shrewd as he normally does. "you could have just gotten it from there."

"it's a privacy violation to give out or use the contact information of our children's caretakers' for non-work or emergency uses," zelda replies cheerfully. "but you giving your number to link in a personal context isn't. hope that helps!"

"you and your safety and privacy violations," revali grumbles, but he turns to link, who's still pink in the cheeks. "well? do you want my number so we can... plan our playdate?"

"s-sure," link whispers, eyes so blue and wide. "yeah, what's your number?" he pulls out his phone to open his contacts, and looks back up at revali. pretty, revali thinks again.

so they exchange numbers and revali and molli leave the daycare, molli cheering and skipping around. "bye mr. link! bye miss zelda!" she shouts as they exit.

"bye molli! bye revali!" zelda replies, waving. "see you next time!"

and when revali looks back, he meets eyes with link again. the blush has mostly died down from his cheeks now, but link as a whole glows warmly. he gives revali a small, shy smile and waves. just this once, revali allows himself to fully smile and wave back.

[doodle17]

i wanna hear more ab your raz age up (mostly so I can draw ours together sffbgnv)

Ohgh I'm always willing to talk about him more I've been thinking so much about him recently, especially with how he reacts when he comes to the realization that being a Psychonaut is a lot more paper work than he would have expected it to be.

After being in the field for roughly 18+ years the awe and wonder of being a Psychonaut has eventually lost its charm. He still wouldn't be any other place though, since it is, in fact, his dream job still (to some extent) and he feels like after being there for so long he's stuck with it. He's always so buried in paperwork, always trying to sort it out in his dorm room (which at this point has become a den full of mountains made of files and inevitable papercuts)

Sure once he finally gets a mission to go on he can actually stretch his legs and do something somewhat entertaining, but even the mission work has gotten repetitive. Like, yeah alright we get it you want to take over the world, can you just skip to the part where you tell us where the bomb is please.

The downright repetition of it all has taken a toll on his childlike sense of adventure, and all the little things keep getting more and more mildly annoying by the day. When he was around 22 he decided to go to college in an attempt to break away from it for just a little bit, and that's where he and Chloe became acquainted.

Because of the predictability of it all, he's become quite fluent in snark and sarcasm, and while he still upholds the professional demeanor and performance he's always had since he was younger, he also tends to act quite nonchalant in what would be quite dire situations to most regular people. Usually shrugging off or rolling his eyes to all the empty threats the villains tend make. He's a younger sibling as well, so of course he knows a thing or two about how to push buttons and get into mischief and get away with it. While hes not as much of a wild card as Bobby or Lili, he tries to use these skills to his advantage to try and bring back some kind of thrill into his work.

All in all, he's tired. He still manages to have fun, but he's tired. Unless he can find a good case or mystery to keep him occupied for a while, he'll be sitting in his dorm sifting through paperwork while going through a pack of cigarettes. The boredom man... It wasn't until he started his counselor job at Whispering Rock that things started to get a little more interesting

[shirogane-oushirou]

sorry to the people whose messages i havent replied to / asks i havent answered ;;; i am going through it. ren save me etc.

i need him to make a little blanket nest and hold me and make comfort food and just like. let me lay on him and run my fingers through his hair while he naps or smth. seeing him feel so comfy would heal me a bit tbh.

[todayisafridaynight]

time a flat circle why the hell am i usin the same loafers i bought for one cosplay of my fave antagonist for another fave antagonist

[astrxealis]

super busy but hi i miss ffxiv i played again today raghh happy 10th anniv the rising event makes me cry i love ffxiv :(( but anyway! bg3 thoughts in tags!

[satorisoup]

UWAHHH good morning friends & happy sunday !! ⸜(*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝ i hope today brings each of you wonderful adventures and happiness !! m’ sending smoochies to all of you, MWUUUAH !! <3 🍓

[jayybugg]

warnings: slight, unsaid breeding kink. begging konig to nut in you. he is also kind of obsessed with you.

just a small blurb about konig, it's been sitting in my drafts for a long time. teehee.

word count: 423

Konig had no self-control. Once he experienced something that he enjoyed, then he would indulge it to the extreme. When he tasted a good snack, he brought them in bulk, or when he ate you out for the first time, it took all your strength to push Konig’s head away after hours of his tongue exploring your folds.

He was obsessed with everything about you, which Konig learned very early on. He was so obsessed that he would indulge in anything pertaining to you.

That’s why he never fucked you raw. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from cumming inside of you at any given moment if he ever got to feel your slick pussy wrapped around his cock. He promised you that he trusted you and that he just wanted to make sure that there were no slip-ups.

Konig didn’t know that with one soft whine and big puppy dog eyes, you would break his foil-proof plan. You were so desperate for him when he walked through the door, basically ripping his pants off. You told him to just “pull out” when he said that he didn’t stop at the store to buy condoms.

That’s how he ended with having you folded into the meanest mating press, slamming into you raw. It was a new feeling, a great feeling. A feeling that Konig needed to feel all the time. The bed squeaked and creaked at each thrust, Konig’s large hands gripping your thighs tightly as he groaned into your neck.

“S-Such a slutty pussy you have, meine liebe.” Konig whimpered into your ear, “You just couldn’t wait for me to g-go get some condoms, could you?”

Your mind was blank, getting more mindless with each thrust. You babbled out utter nonsense, your nails digging into Konig’s back. “Answer me.” He grunted, “You wanted this. You wanted me to fuck you raw, so I could fill you up, didn’t you? You want me to knock you up?”

He lifted his head and upper body a bit to wrap his hand around your neck, giving it a firm squeeze. “Yes, p-please, cum in me. Fuck, knock me up.” You crossed your ankles behind his head.

Konig’s brain was short-circuiting, you were so wet and gripping him so tightly. How was he supposed to deny you what you wanted? His precious girl wanted him to fill her up then he was going to do it.

And truly what was the worst that could happen if he fucked his seed into you all the time?

[cachantun]

i think i hate stephen king

[berritart]

cw - the usual (petnames, yadda yadda) strap sex (r!recieving) reader and abby r married teehee

lazy sex w abby oh my god. you just got off from work, tired as ever. abby just wants to make her baby feel good after a long day at work. she doesnt want you doing anything, just rewinding on her strap.

"mmm...right there." your face nuzzled in the crook of her neck, the occasional quiet moans slipping from your lips. abby has you in her lap, all of her deep inside you. swear you can feel it all the way in your stomach. her hands gripping your hips, assisting your movements.

"yeah?" a smirk finds its way on her face, flexing her pelvis as the strap reaches where you need it the most. "f-fuck baby..." you jolted a bit, arms still wrapped around abby's shoulders.

"my sweet girl worked so hard today hmm? all she needed was my strap? taking all of it so good...wish you could see yourself right now angel." you whimper at her words, the grinding of your hips getting more sloppier as you feel your orgasm coming.

"i-i'm so close abby..." she reaches down, her thumb rubbing messy circles on your clit. "c'mon, go ahead and give it to me." abby's lips lazily kisses yours, your leftover lip combo earlier from work rubbing off on her lips.

your body shakes against abby's as your orgasm violently washes over you. your nails she paid for obv grip onto her biceps, your body slowly calming down from the harsh climax. "there we go, fuck." abby's also follows, washing over her shortly after yours. your body falls against hers, quiet, barely audible moans seep through your lips as she slides the strap out of your cunt.

"you want me to run you a bath angel?" your wife questions, a nod from you following shortly after. her lips places a peck on your nose before she heads to prepare your bath. she just loves taking care of her baby.

[a-ikuoliver]

god is a bit of a freak, why's he watching me getting railed on the couch, staying pure for a wedding, he's got fucked up priorities — aka an ancient, obsolete god of fertility hears your prayer

pairing: fertility god!katsuki bakugou x fem!reader w/c: 2.8k warning/s: voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), references to sex rituals and safe sex lmao, i think that's everything, mostly lead up notes: sorry i wrote this fucked up from a cold lmao i hope u all enjoy either way! inspo/acknowledgements: god is a freak by peach prcty @kweenkatsuki-fics @aquadenks @peachsukii @rabbbitseason for ur interest teehee

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

the ancient tongue was dead, dying a slow death as all languages did, evolving again and again with every civilisation that rose and fell, until it faded into obscurity. with the death of their language, their communication with their believers, the gods faded, too, their followers dwindling more and more as their names were buried along with the civilisations they led. once adored, worshipped, feared, now, their names only existed on scrolls, yellowed and deteriorated beneath layers of mortal history, unspoken in aeons.

katsuki kicked the door shut behind him, the bag of produce in his hand swinging back and forth with the movement. there was once a time where he was lavished with offerings of food he now had to purchase; countless altars he tended to piled with vegetables, wines, fire, soil, blood, accompanied with prayers to answer. he'd all but assimilated into living as a mortal; cooking (he was grateful, at least, for electric stoves, cooking lerthargically over a fire not quite how he wanted to spend eternity), showering, learning, exploring and working alongside the humans that once lived in his shadow.

he was one of the first to deflect from utopia, to abandon his temple, to give up on the belief that the gods, their language could return to how it was, and with it their followers. katsuki had simply grown bored of waiting alone in the stone temple, of wandering the perimeter hoping to find a lost mortal he could grant a miracle to, to find a mortal to bring meaning to godhood again. after all, what was a god without his believers?

he hadn't given up his blessings or miracles, albeit on a smaller scale than he once had, he still granted wishes as he had in utopia's heyday, the offerings he received now smiles across counters as people passed along paperwork, hoping to be one of the lucky ones, praying over pregnancy tests in bathrooms instead of in his altar. he gave up godhood, but he refused to give up his miracles, even if the mortals didn't know he was responsible.

the pot was finally at a rolling boil, his knife poised above the produce when he felt it, the sensation freezing his blood in his veins, the pull of a prayer in his veins, an echoing whisper of his name lighting his nerves alight. the god freezes, blond hair slipping into his eyes as his ears burnt, twitching at every noise, waiting to hear the sweet sound of the prayer once more.

"bakugou."

his face falls from shock to a scowl almost immediately, his pupils dilating, his skin itchy from adrenaline, his stomach twisting. it couldn't really be his name. this couldn't be a prayer. not after all this time.

the obsolete incantation runs off your tongue seamlessly; almost melodic, light as you cite the prayer carved into the stone at the base of his statue, your dialect nothing like what the prayer used to sound like, but the more you read, the harder he finds it to hate. your voice clouds his head, every word past your lips making the fog denser behind his eyes. there was a dull pain alongside it, an ache that pulsed with your every breath, the pain of a prayer.

the call of the prayer felt… foreign after so long (a millennium he thinks? maybe more, maybe less, years, decades, centuries and millenniums all blurred into one for immortals), katsuki was accustomed to the silence every god feared, the silence of being abandoned by your believers, of dwindling power and control. even with how it was feared, this almost felt worse; a single prayer cornering him in the kitchen after an aeon alone, a single spotlight in the darkness worse than the endless pitch black.

"told you it was bull." barefoot, he paces back and forth in the apartment, shifting uncomfortably as you traced a fingertip over the carved inscription, the touch feeling as if it was on the very nerves of his scalp, down the curve of his spine, catching on every bump of his vertebra. crimson eyes droop, a thick hand rubbing at the bridge of his nose, an attempt to soothe the pain of your voice bouncing around his head, the sensation of your touch on his effigy.

"hey, stop that," your giggle almost has his feet sliding against the tile, nearly tumbling backward as he stops in his tracks; his muscles straining to follow the magnetism of your voice, the melody of your intoxicating laugh while he rationalises your existence at all.

"is that why you brought me here, huh? you think being in some ancient sex temple means you'll get some?"

perks of being a god: immortality, immeasurable strength and influence, impenetrable skin (with maybe a couple flaws). downsides of godhood? the power of their followers over them.

it was… overwhelming, the itch beneath a gods skin when a devout believer called their name, the weight of a prayer, the unshakable desire to follow the call. thankfully, the perks also included the facilities to do so; something akin to teleportation, the voice like a blinding beacon in the night, guiding the god.

once upon a time, civilisations ago, it was a lot, too much, the night always lit like it was daylight with the light his followers cast out. his temple existed for this very reason, devout believers building the god a home, a sanctuary for the light of his followers, complete with the marble sculpture of the built god. then, it was at the centre of the village he ruled over, now, you and your lover had hiked up a mountain, and back down into the valley to find it, the stone weathered and covered in vegetation, it was a miracle you'd been able to work your way inside.

dragging his finger over cold stone, every ridge and bump as it once was, katsuki reminisced about a time before the silence, before the darkness, a time when people lined outside his temple with dreams of a child. years ago, women came alone to his temple, clad in robes they'd weaved specially for the fertility ritual (sometimes gifted at their weddings), kneeling in the altar to offer anything they had in exchange for their heir; piles of gold from queens who begged for a prince, beloved and wise to rule their kingdoms peacefully, warriors armed with iron to wish for a knight, strategic and strong enough to return home from battle again and again, farmers gripping their herbs with soil-stained hands, praying for a child born with kindness and thumbs so green the village would survive the winters once more, a marble statue of the god, towering at over 9 feet tall from a sculptor wishing for a child with as much passion for the arts as their parents.

visitors now were only accidental, stumbling upon the temple in the darkness of the valley, seeking shelter, safety, protection. never a prayer tumbling from their lips for an heir (he answered their prayers nonetheless, never allowing harm to befall anyone on his blessed grounds).

peeking from behind a pillar overtaken by the vegetation, he finally spotted you.

you sucked the breath from his lungs, walking further into the temple, a cute, mischievous grin tugging on the corners of your soft lips, chasing your lover with your eyes as he spoke, "you don't think it's romantic? fucking in an ancient sex gods temple?"

"he was the god of fertility, not sex." you step onto the age worn sigil by the base of the imposing statue, brushing layers of grey dust away.

you look so similar to the countless women before who laid on his mark, the way you studied the carved sigil carefully, curiosity and stars sparkling in your eyes, a heat burning beneath your skin, adrenaline spiking in your veins. eras ago, women were bare on the sigil, stone icy against their skin as they drew runes, marking their skin with blood, dirt or ink, in the language native to the gods.

"what's the difference?" their voice was low, lips brushing beneath your jaw, biting at the sensitive skin beneath your ear, nimble fingers sliding beneath your shirt to tug it higher, higher, on your torso, tugging the material over your head with a flick of his wrist.

the god was no stranger to topless women, probably seeing hundreds and thousands of them in his prime, but the way the man in front of you toyed with the fat on your chest nearly making his eyes meet the inside of his skull. your allure was impossible to resist when your boyfriend rolls your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs, tugging on the sensitive skin to pull a delicious whine from your throat.

the silence had made him soft.

"i've been waiting all day for this," katsuki's blood rushes in his ears when you both fall to the floor, limbs already beginning to tangle together, bodies becoming one at the mouth, at the hips, at the chest. your sweet sounds echo in the temple, increasingly breathless the longer you kissed and nipped and sucked and bit at your boyfriend.

the ancient tongue was dead, katsuki knew that, knew you had no way to know what you'd read, like some naive final girl in a cliche horror film, that the very god you were laid at the base of was real, that he could see and hear you, that his cock throbbed watching you. you had no way of knowing what you'd started. carmine eyes study the beat of your heart in your chest, the way your tits look when your breathing quickens, how irresistible you look when deft fingers trace the seam of your panties.

katsuki prays himself for the first time in his long life that he's the only god to see you right now, to watch your face change the lower your boyfriend travels, dragging his tongue over your skin as he goes (katsuki's thankful for every time the mortal man bites at your skin, for the yelp it elicits anytime his canines sink into your flesh). his fingertips twitch at his sides, itching to finalise the ritual you'd started with the single murmur of his name, the first syllable of a language foreign on your tongue but you'd recited it so naturally.

you exclaim your lovers name with another sweet giggle, his hands now gripping your ass, tugging your obstructive underwear down your pillowy thighs, tossing it as far as he can the moment the garment is free from your ankles.

the god's ears scald at the way you sound when the brunet's tongue flicks against your skin, sucking at your pussy just to draw increasingly needier sounds from your pretty mouth. he's not even watching you and he already knows your hips are jumping from the stone floor, grinding onto your lovers mouth and nose to work yourself closer to an orgasm. your moans echo in the stone temple, bouncing in every corner before travelling back to his ears, tempting his attention to you.

he stays steady, sharp carmine eyes narrowing on the altar.

more specifically, the lump of material atop the bench.

your underwear is draped across like an offering of its own to him, far more lewd than gold, iron and herbs, but it made his core ache when the moonlight caught in the centre of the fabric, a small damp spot glistening in the light.

fuck, it hurts, every nerve aching, screaming to finally put an end his celibacy, unbroken for far too long. he hadn't felt a need for a mortal like this since the beginning of his existence, the pure want filling his head with fog. this is a duty, this power he has, it is what he was made for, there was never this heavy, dense fog filling his head before, no follower making his blood burn like you were. and you didn't even know what you'd done.

bakugou's gaze is finally drawn back to you, your spine arching away from the stone, fingers tangling at the base of your boyfriends skull, tugging the hair harshly as you chanted his name, your hips stuttering, grinding messily back and forth on his face, until you stopped. you were still wound tight, your thighs clamped tight around his ears while you recovered, a dopey, lovesick smile planted firm on your cheeks.

your squeal makes his dick twitch, one last flick of his tongue over your overstimulated clit, blond eyebrows furrowing so hard at the centre it makes his head pound, you were making his head hurt. a desperation to finish the ritual filled his lungs, every breath a reminder of his name on your lips, of your panties across the altar, of your naked body atop his mark.

he needed this, needed to bury his cock in a pretty cunt, to fill you until you were a babbling mess, needed you.

sitting back on his knees, your lover wiped your creamy cum from his chin with the back of his hand, spreading it from his face to his fingers, hardly doing anything to clean the mess you'd made of his mouth.

your boyfriend finally moves out of the way, giving katsuki the front row seat he deserves, your thighs shining with slick the masterpiece he'd come to see. unblinking, he thinks he's squeezing his cock through his pants, he's not sure, too hypnotised by the way your hips still twitched, chasing your boyfriends warmth. onyx and ruby eyes alike study your face, glued to the way your eyes roll into your skull when his fingers, still wet with your cum, trace your clit once more, teasing the entrance of your pussy before circling your sensitive nerves once more.

katsuki knows he's stroking his cock now, frantically tugging at the zipper still preventing him from relief, his fist moving at the same pace you grind your hips down to your lovers hand, sucking his fingers into you, squeezing your cunt around them until your thighs shook. his hips rock into his hands when your tongue lolls from your mouth, your moans getting faster and faster once more.

he has to bite his lip to stifle a groan of his own, his fist pumping faster and faster again, squeezing the base of his cock when you press a kiss as soft as silk to his lips, looping your hips around his, tugging him closer when you came again.

"fuck, baby, next time you cum, it's with my cock inside you." dark hair shields your face from katsuki's vision momentarily, your boyfriend leaning over you, searching his discarded coat for something, tugging it closer and pulling each pocket inside out.

your thighs slip from his hips as he moves, wincing as your thighs made contact with the icy stone instead of his warm skin.

"shit, i think i left the condoms in the backpack," sliding the empty jacket over your chest, you tuck it beneath your arms, clutching it close to you with one hand, the other waving your boyfriend off as he ventured back toward the entrance of the temple, your gaze lingering on his ass until he was out of sight.

another perk of godhood: the blessed ground was subject to the chosen gods whims. some gods had their temples in the centre of labyrinthian mazes, others had their temples impossible to find, buried beneath the earth or deep in the ocean, hidden between mountains, camouflaged in vegetation, some invisible until the winter solstice, or until the new moon. katsuki never quite cared for that, leaving his temple as his followers built it for him, not implementing challenges for believers to prove their dedication like others had, only protecting his hallowed ground. until now.

stone scrapes against stone harshly, the coarse sound painfully invading your ears as the temple entrance seals. you drop the jacket into your lap, rushing to shield your ears from the sound with your palms pressed hard to your ears, searching around the room for your boyfriend, for his protection, katsuki supposes, like a mortal man could save you from the god you summoned, from what you started.

stepping out from the dark corner, his figure casts a sharp, long shadow as he stands to his full height in front of the statue. like this, you look identical to the women he used to bestow his miracles on; splayed on his sigil, staring up at him with dewy eyes (your blown pupils imperceptibly widening when your gaze rakes over his large form, taking everything in; blond mess of hair, darting crimson eyes, ruffled shirt as he rushed to hold it in his mouth watching you get your cunt eaten, his still-unzipped pants and finally the impressive bulge of his cock), your lips parting when he finally relaxes his shoulders, now standing easily at the shoulder of his statue.

"you-re—" your eyes dart between the imposing statue and his steely face, your voice airy, wobbling slightly as you continued, "you're real?"

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[hatsbuckets]

TF 141 x Reader - Shower Hide Out

Short Version: You're a member of 141. Mission's over. The boys come hide while you're taking a shower. (Hide? Hide from what?)

WC: ~1300

Pairings: (implied) TF141 x (afab) reader | teensy weensy Ghost x Soap

Warnings: none? (nudity ig, but nobody does or sees anything,) extremely brief mention of drowning. (lmk if I need to add)

A/N: my first little cod fic I'm posting! teehee. Just something cute and domestic and simple that I thought of while showering. LMAO I did this instead of writing my thesis today so plz enjoy. More like this maybe to come?

It was late and a shower was long overdue.

You were grateful to finally be at a place where you could shower. It'd been days out on a mission and the sight of the little house was like heaven on Earth. Laswell had gotten it together, and you all met her there with little ceremony, but plenty of thanks. You each made sure each of you were good and not dying before sitting in with Kate.

You always got a little protective over the boys after the high stress, near-death-experiences you go through together. And they were the same with you, and each other, in their own little ways. Sometimes you weren't sure why, but you rolled with it. Soap always made a point to talk with you, helping you and himself destress. Ghost made sure you weren’t hurt, you would do the same, then he’d say something about getting better. You and Gaz liked to eat together, making sure you were both fed. Price was quiet, bringing you tea or coffee in the later hours, but never quiet enough to avoid a bit of banter. Sometimes it was a hearty combination of them all at the same time, and sometimes it was just one or two. Whatever it was, you were grateful. 

This current mission had resulted in you and Johnny both nearly drowning to death, but you were okay, and so was he. Naturally, it left all parties a little on edge. Soap didn’t shut up the whole drive to safety, keeping spirits light while Ghost and Gaz tried to keep the two of you from freezing to death. Laswell was worried too. She insisted, in her stoic way, on getting you all safe and rested for a bit before moving forward.

This wasn't the first time you'd all holed up in a small house, and it wouldn't be the last, but it was definitely one of the quieter nights of the five of you together. Laswell and Price wasted little time before discussing and debriefing. The rest of you were hardly as interested, tired mostly, but pulled in all the same.

Finally, they let you head up to the shower first, even though Johnny was shaking from the chill of still being in damp clothes.

"Go on, lass," he had chattered. "I'll b-be just fine."

Ghost had to force another towel around him before you were satisfied.

Upstairs, you twisted the shower on, letting the heat steam as you undressed. You peeled away a still damp uniform and even damper socks. Ew.

You'd need a full body scrub down to feel better.

You stepped in, pulling the curtain closed and letting the hot water soak through your hair and warm you to the bone. It hurt a little at your toes, the way warm water does as blood rushes around you again. You started with shampoo, lathering your hair intentionally, but not in a hurry.

As you rinsed you swore you heard the door creak. Then a relaxed sigh confirmed your suspicion.

"Soap?" You guessed quietly.

The Scot hummed in response.

You didn't mind. It wouldn't be the first time he'd stood by while you showered. Though normally it was because neither of you wanted whatever intriguing discussion you were having to be interrupted. Another of those weird little, post-mission comforts. This was just him, sitting quietly, enjoying the warmth of the steamed washroom.

You heard him kick his boots off as you put conditioner in your hair. Then another sound of the door hinges. At first you thought he'd left-weirdo, just drop your boots and leave- but then you realized from a mumbling grunt that he had not left.

You heard the shuffling of movement and the quietest unidentifiable remark from Soap, and then just the sound of the water again.

"Soap?" You asked, confirming if the man was still there.

He hummed again. "Still 'ere. Got some company too."

If you had to guess, it was probably Ghost. You could imagine him plopped down on the floor at Soap's feet, leaning against the man's legs. Again, it didn't bother you as you rinsed the product from your hair. Ghost had seen you roughed up, helped patch you up enough that his presence couldn't bother you. You'd done a bit of the same for him. Those weird little comforts.

Knowing they were on the other side of the dark curtain, dirty and wet and tired, but alive, settled a bit of the hammer of worry in your chest. It warmed you from the inside as much as the water on the outside.

The door hinges creaked again, announcing another arrival. You were grinning now.

"Captain scare ya off, Gaz?" Ghost teased.

There was a moment where he didn't respond. "This is just the warmest room in the house, with how much water she's using."

You laughed lightly as you lathered up. Whatever he was in here for you also didn't mind. You trusted Kyle with your life, and with the times he's seen you drunk after celebratory bar nights, you couldn't chase him off now. Those little comforts.

Before you could rinse off, the door creaked a fourth time. You thought maybe one of them had left. Maybe Kyle. But instead, you heard an unmistakable grumble.

"You moppets. Let the girl shower in peace." Price's voice was low but laced with a tease.

"And wot brings you 'ere, Captain?" Soap poked right back.

You rinsed yourself, a laugh escaping you as you thought about the four grown men occupying the small space. Little comforts. 

"What's so funny?" Ghost's voice was light, or at least as light as it could be when he wasn't too stressed.

"Are you all hiding from Kate?" You teased.

When your question was met with silence, you had your answer. Your laugh burst from you as you turned the water off. It subsided only as the chill of the air entered the isolated space as you extended your hand through the small gap between curtain and wall. There was a moment of shuffling and scrambling, then a towel landed in your hand.

"You'd be hidin' too if you were down there listening to her plans, that woman never rests," Soap's voice grumbled. It made you laugh again as you wrapped the towel around your body. You finally pulled open the curtain to the scene before you.

Like you'd guessed, Soap was seated on the toilet, boots off in the pile next to your own, his clothes still damp. Ghost was seated on the floor in front of him, still fully geared. Kyle had at least taken off his equipment in a different room, sitting on the floor against the sink counter. And Price, also still fully dressed, was leaning just inside the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

While the other men glanced away in their respectful little ways, Soap watched as you stepped out, earning a thump on the leg from Ghost.

"What?" Soap cried. "She's'not naked!"

You laughed, stepping over Ghost and Gaz's legs as you made your way to the door. You rested your free hand on Price's shoulder and his eyes met yours.

"Surely Kate's new ideas aren't that bad," you teased.

The man shrugged, a smile crinkling his eyes. "You can go find out."

You huffed a tiny laugh. You could feel all their eyes on you now, so you made a point to linger just a moment longer. "One of you start showering; you all smell."

You headed for your own room as Soap's gripes and protests hit your ears. You understood something along the lines of “wouldn’t if you’d not taken all the water.” You smiled to yourself. They were protective, always in that weird little way of theirs after the high stress, near-death-experiences you all go through together. Shared little weird-not weird, just your own-comforts to make sure you were all alive and well. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Thanks for reading.

[artdcnaldson]

Pat just being like “c’mon babe I promise, I just need to get off and it’ll help so much. Just the tip, I swear, that’s all. Just the tip.”

Maybe with Art’s gf? They’re close and you know they’ve done more together than they’ll admit to and Art’s got those catholic premarital sex notions so you’re kinda on edge and if it IS just the tip then it’s fine, right? If it doesn’t go any further than that… it doesn’t count as cheating when it’s his best friend and it’s just the tip….

Turning that on its head and sweet blushing virgin Art getting so worked up that it’s Your turn to say “just the tip, baby. It doesn’t count if you’re not all the way in. I bet it’s so painful, I wanna help. You can give me the tip.”

Naturally neither stop at just the tip teehee

FUUUUUUUCK <3 this has been hidden in my inbox and I JUST found it. Feeling INSANE!!!

Patrick thinks you're too sweet to go unfucked, to have your needs ignored in favor of some moral high ground bullshit. He knows how needy you are— you're not exactly subtle when you watch Art tug his sweaty shirt off on the tennis court, how you clench your thighs and cross and uncross your legs to get a bit of friction.

And he doesn't miss how you watch him either, when he's shirtless on the court, or at the pool. When it's hot in Art's dorm and he's stripped to his boxers. You watch him, you swallow and lick your lips and look away.

And there you are, staying the summer at his parent's empty mansion. Art's inside sleeping off a hangover, and you're with Patrick at the pool in a tiny bikini. You turn and stretch and reapply sunscreen onto your skin, and that's all it takes for Patrick to pop an obvious boner.

He's not above begging. Pleading. Getting on his goddamn knees for pussy. And he's very convincing. He knows you need more than what Art can give you, and Patrick doesn't even have to give you everything, you can save that for Art, he promises.

How can you say no? You should say no, but you don't. You let him tug your bikini bottoms to the side and tease the head of his cock through your sticky folds, bumping against your clit while you writhe on the plush lounge chair.

It doesn't take long for you to beg him. Each time his cockhead nudges against your entrance that tight ring of muscle there twitches, like your body wants to suck him deeper. When he just barely breaches your entrance you moan so pretty, it's like music to his goddamn ears.

It takes all of his self control to keep from driving in, deep, fucking you like he wants. But he's good. Even when you move your pretty manicured fingers to rub at your clit, even when your cunt clenches and pulses around him. He wants to fuck you the way you deserve, but he's a gentleman. He keeps his promise. He pulls out to cum, painting your cunt and bikini bottoms sticky white.

And once you have that, you just want Art more. You've gotten a taste, and you want the real thing bad. But Art's so sweet, so repressed.

Your poor, sweet Art, who has to hold you still with firm hands on your hips after five minutes of making out. Whose face goes ruddy and sheepish as he says he just needs a second to cool down. Who apologizes for getting so worked up and tells you that you're just so pretty he can't help it.

And you're so convincing that Patrick would be proud. Because it doesn't count if he's doesn't go all the way in, right? It'll help if he just gets a bit of release, then he won't be so tempted and overwhelmed by you. Isn't that a good thing? To just give in a little so he isn't tempted to give in entirely? Won't god understand?

If god doesn't understand, Art does. He swallows down a nervous lump in his throat and tugs down his jeans and boxers. His cock is flushed red and beading precum just from a heavy makeout session.

"You can't touch it." The words make you want to pout, but Art's like a skittish animal— one wrong move and it's over. So you lay back on the bed peel your panties away from your drenched pussy, so slick it's obscene.

It's just the tip. Art's a good boy, he'll behave. His hands shake as he leans down, brushes your hair from your face before he gives you a soft kiss. His cock notches against your entrance and you're both trembling with pure want.

It takes all of his self control, it really does. He feeds the first inch or two inside and you're so tight and wet and hot that he nearly cums then and there. He ruts into you with soft, shallow motions— making sure not to go too deep, even if he wants to. And he wants to so fucking badly.

"Just a little deeper," you nearly beg, and how can he say no? Just a little more. It won't hurt, it feels so good anyway. And then a little more, because he's already come this far. And then your heels press into his ass and he's buried in you to the hilt and you're squeezing him so tight that he can't help it.

He comes with a strangled groan, hips jerking clumsily as he instinctually tries to bury himself deeper. He collapses on top of you, all of the energy sapped out of him as he continues to rut into your cunt.

"I don't think that's going to help with temptation," he mumbles against your throat.

You kiss the crown of his head and pet his soft curls and assure him that it's fine, that he didn't mean to, that he didn't sin that much. He's a good guy, god will understand. All the while, you're keenly aware of a shadow of someone standing just on the other side of the door. A very smug, very proud Patrick Zweig.

[misaerabl]

Pierced

CONTENT: wc…3.7k ✦ vampire reader x vampire hunter vi, vi being a good girl for reader teehee, biting, tit-sucking, a lot of sexual tension, vi calls reader a monster, reader calls vi a good girl (multiple times), vi was drinking a bit but she's still completely sober and aware, bloodsucking (not proofread at all, SORRY) SUMMARY: Vi has spent years hunting you, a vampire as beautiful as you are dangerous. She swore to put an end to your existence, yet every encounter ended the same—you taunting her, slipping through her grasp like smoke. But tonight is different?

She had been hunting you for years.

Vi didn’t know when it became an obsession—when the chase stopped being just about duty and started sinking its claws into something deeper, something darker. At first, it was simple: a vampire terrorizing the city, leaving behind bodies drained and discarded. A job for a hunter like her. But then she saw you.

Demonizingly beautiful. Unholy in the way that no creature should be. A face carved by something cruel, something that wanted to see men—and hunters—fall to their knees. Vi wasn’t weak. She told herself that every time she tracked your movements, every time she found herself too late, standing in the aftermath of your existence. She should’ve hated you. And she did.

But hate didn’t explain the way your voice haunted her long after you disappeared into the night. The way your taunts replayed in her head like a song she couldn’t shake.

“Poor Vi,” you had once cooed, perched on a rooftop above her, lips stained red. “You chase me like you don’t already belong to me.”

She almost got you that night. Almost. But you were always just out of reach.

Until now.

She was alone in her apartment, the silence pressing in as she nursed a drink and thought of ways to trap you, to finally end this sick game. But the air shifted. A prickle ran down her spine.

And then she saw it—your figure standing on her balcony, illuminated by the faint moonlight.

You had come to her.

Vi didn’t hesitate. The moment she saw you, bathed in the silver glow of the moonlight, she reached for the dagger at her belt. Silver. Blessed. The only thing she trusted against something like you.

She rose from her chair, movements fluid, controlled—only the sharp inhale of breath gave her away. She stepped outside, the night air cool against her skin, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her weapon.

And there you were.

Beautiful as ever. Too beautiful. Your crimson eyes locked onto hers, piercing, knowing, as if you could see straight through her—through the anger, the obsession, the flickering, unspoken thing that lingered beneath it all.

And you smiled. Gentle. Soft. So out of place on something as monstrous as you.

Vi’s grip tightened, but her feet felt heavier than they should.

"You’ve been thinking about me," you said, voice like a whisper, like a lullaby meant to ensnare. "I could feel it."

Vi exhaled through her nose. "Shame. I was hoping you’d feel this instead." She lifted the dagger just enough for you to see, the silver catching the moonlight.

But you didn’t flinch. Didn’t move at all.

"You won’t use it."

Her jaw clenched. "You wanna test that theory?"

You tilted your head, amusement flickering across your face. "If it helps you sleep at night."

Vi hated the way your voice slithered under her skin, the way the space between you felt unbearably small despite the distance. She had spent years trying to kill you. So why did it feel like you were the one in control?

Vi’s voice was steady, sharp as a blade. “You’re a monster.”

You didn’t react. Not at first.

“You kill,” she continued, taking a slow step forward, dagger still poised. “You prey on people—innocent people. You feed on them like they’re nothing.” Her voice turned to steel. “And you expect me to believe that smile?”

A gasp left your lips, soft and exaggerated. You pressed a hand to your chest, fingers splayed over where your heart should be beating. The movement made Vi’s eyes flick down, just for a second—just long enough to notice the dried blood beneath your nails.

“Oh, Vi,” you sighed, tilting your head. “You wound me.” Your lips curled into something almost pouty, but the amusement in your eyes was undeniable.

Vi clenched her jaw. “You don’t get to act innocent when you still have someone’s blood on your hands.”

You glanced down at your fingers, examining them as if you’d forgotten. Then, you dragged one nail against your palm, smearing the blood slightly, before meeting her gaze again.

“I was hungry,” you admitted with a shrug. “Can you really blame me?”

Vi’s breath came a little too fast, her body too tense, her grip on the dagger too tight.

God, she hated you.

Or maybe—maybe she hated whatever it was you were doing to her.

You took a step forward, slow and deliberate, your gaze never leaving hers. Vi’s fingers twitched around the hilt of her dagger, but she didn’t move.

Didn’t run. Didn’t strike.

Didn’t do a damn thing as you closed the distance between you like a shadow creeping under a door.

“I bet you taste so good,” you murmured, voice low, dripping with something too dangerous to be called teasing. Your eyes flickered down, tracing the curve of her throat, the rapid pulse beneath her skin.

Vi swallowed, her grip tightening. "Try it, and I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you ever do."

You only smiled, stepping even closer. She could smell you now—something faintly sweet, something intoxicating, something that made her head feel too light.

"You say that," you mused, tilting your head. "But your heart is racing, Vi. Just a little."

Her jaw clenched. "You don’t scare me."

"No?" You reached out, fingers ghosting over the collar of her shirt, and Vi flinched. Not because it hurt. Because it didn’t. Because your touch was light, deliberate, like you were savoring the moment. "Then why haven’t you stopped me?"

She should’ve shoved you away. Should’ve driven the dagger straight into your ribs.

Instead, she stood there, breathing too hard, letting you lean in until your lips were just barely brushing the air between you.

And then you whispered, “I wonder if you’d let me.”

You moved even closer, so close that Vi could feel the faintest shift in the air between you. Your lashes fluttered as you took a slow, deliberate inhale, letting her scent fill your lungs.

And she just stood there.

Frozen. Like she hadn’t spent years chasing you, swearing she’d kill you the second she got the chance. But here she was, dagger clutched tightly in her hand, and she wasn’t using it.

Vi exhaled sharply through her nose. “You really don’t value your life, do you?”

You let out a low hum, tilting your head. “Oh, I do. I just know you won’t take it.”

Vi let out a short, humorless laugh. “You think I won’t kill you?”

You grinned, fangs just barely peeking past your lips. “I think you’d miss me too much.”

Vi scowled, but you saw the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed. The tension crackled between you, thick and electric, coiling around her like a serpent waiting to strike.

And then, with the slow grace of something that had all the time in the world, you leaned in—your lips hovering just above her pulse.

Vi sucked in a breath, muscles locking, but she didn’t pull away.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t stop you.

Your tongue flicked out, warm and deliberate, tracing a slow, languid path along her neck.

Vi shuddered.

Her grip on the dagger faltered, just slightly.

And you—oh, you smiled against her skin.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her eyes again. They were darker now, filled with something you couldn’t quite place—something she probably didn’t want to name.

“Is that what you really think of me?” you asked, voice smooth, velvety. “A monster?”

Vi’s jaw tightened. “You kill people.”

You hummed, tilting your head. “So do you.”

“That’s not the same.”

“Isn’t it?”

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t, maybe. Her breath was uneven, her pulse still hammering beneath her skin—so loud, so alive.

You leaned in again, not bothering to hide your smirk as your tongue flicked out once more, dragging along the spot you’d just teased.

Vi exhaled sharply through her nose, a muscle in her jaw twitching.

Your voice was barely a whisper against her skin.

“Funny,” you murmured. “You taste like you don’t want me to stop.”

Her entire body tensed when you leaned down, her heart skipping a beat at the feel of your nose brushing against her neck. It was embarrassing—how her skin tingled at the simple action, how her breath hitched against her will. She forced herself to look at you, to keep her head straight, when every part of her wanted to tilt—wanted to give you more access.

Your voice was a purr against her ear. “Do you think you could quench my thirst?” Your lips barely grazed her skin, your breath warm, teasing. “Darling, you just look so good…”

Vi shuddered. She hated this. Hated how her body responded, how she wasn’t pushing you away, wasn’t lifting her damn dagger to stop you.

“Stop.” Her voice came out strained, uneven. “Please… stop.”

Yet she did nothing.

And neither did you.

Your hand rested on her shoulder, your fingers curling slightly, grounding her in something that felt like both comfort and possession. And then—soft, barely there—you kissed her neck.

Vi let out a sharp exhale, her fists clenching at her sides.

God, she already tasted so good.

You hummed, inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of her—warm, alive, something utterly intoxicating.

“Stop,” she whispered again, weaker this time.

You pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “Do you mean it?”

Silence.

Then—so quiet, you almost didn’t hear it—

“…No.”

Vi exhaled shakily. “Don’t stop.”

Your grin was slow, fangs glinting in the dim light.

You were both vulnerable, at each other’s mercy. It was almost ironic. You could tear her apart, sink your fangs into her skin, and drain her in mere seconds—and she, she could ram her dagger into your heart without hesitation. But for some reason, neither of you moved.

Everything was so messed up, yet, in a twisted way, it made perfect sense.

Vi swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. She looked up into your eyes, her own filled with something she refused to admit—something she couldn’t hide. The need. The desire.

It was all there.

"Will you let me… taste you?"

Your voice was a whisper, smooth and intoxicating, wrapping around her like a spell. Vi hesitated—just for a moment. She shouldn’t want this. She couldn’t want this.

And yet… she did.

“Yes,” she breathed.

A slow, satisfied smile spread across your lips. “Good girl.”

You leaned in, your breath warm against her skin, savoring the moment before finally sinking your fangs into her neck.

The moment your fangs pierced her skin, warmth flooded your senses—rich, intoxicating, utterly consuming. Her blood was unlike anything you’d tasted before, sweet with a hint of something electric, something alive. It burned as it slid down your throat, like the finest of wines mixed with the very essence of her—strength, defiance, and something dangerously close to surrender.

Vi’s breath hitched, her body going rigid beneath you before melting, a sharp gasp slipping from her lips. Her fingers curled into fists, nails digging into her palms as if she could fight against the way her body reacted—the way heat coiled low in her stomach, the way her pulse fluttered under your lips.

You drank slowly, savoring every drop, your tongue brushing against the wound as if soothing the sting, as if pretending this was something gentle. But it wasn’t. It was possession. It was hunger.

And God, she tasted divine.

Her head fell back, her body going limp against you, and you caught her with ease—one arm wrapping around her back, the other cradling the back of her head. You held her like something precious, like something yours.

“God…” she moaned, voice breathless, the sharp sting of your bite mixing with a pleasure she didn’t dare name.

You pulled back after a few seconds, your tongue sweeping over the fresh wound, lapping up the remnants of her blood. Some of it still dripped from your lips, warm and rich, and you swallowed it down as you stared at her.

She was panting, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. The look in her eyes was a tangled mess of disbelief and want, like she couldn’t comprehend how much she had needed your touch—how much she still craved it.

When you leaned in again, dragging your tongue slowly over the bite, she let out a soft, helpless whine. Her neck stung, her body ached, but none of it mattered.

You’re a monster.

The thought rang in her head, clear and sharp like the blade she still grasped in her trembling hand. She should drive it into your chest, pierce through flesh and bone, end this before she lost herself any further. It’s what you deserved. It’s what she had sworn to do.

And yet… she couldn’t.

Her grip on the dagger tightened, but her other hand—traitorous, desperate—clung to you instead. Her body burned where you had touched her, where your lips had lingered, where your fangs had torn into her. It should have made her sick. It should have filled her with rage.

But all she felt was need.

She needed more of you.

The beautiful, haunting creature before her—so utterly inhuman, yet so devastatingly real—had her wrapped in something she didn’t understand. You were terrifying in your power, in your hunger, in the way you smiled at her like you knew every thought racing through her mind.

And God, maybe you did.

Vi swallowed, her breath unsteady, her body betraying her as she leaned into your touch instead of pulling away. You were beautiful. Beautiful in a way that was wrong, that was twisted, that was broken.

And she wanted more.

Maybe it was the blood loss. Maybe it was the heat still pulsing through her veins from where your lips had been. Maybe it was the way you looked at her—head tilted, eyes glowing, licking her blood from your lips like she was the finest thing you’d ever tasted.

Oh, God, forgive her. She wasn’t thinking straight.

Her dagger still sat heavy in her grasp, her fingers curled around the hilt like it was the last thread tethering her to reason. But reason felt distant now, slipping through her like sand, replaced by something darker. Something warmer.

“You did so well for me,” you purred, your voice dripping with satisfaction, with something she couldn’t name. “Such a good girl.”

She shouldn’t have felt that shiver down her spine.

She shouldn’t have been staring at your lips, still stained with her blood.

She shouldn’t have wanted to hear more.

Her hand slipped beneath the fabric of your elegant, long dress, fingers trailing over the bare skin beneath your low-cut top, feeling the cold skin of your breasts.

You gasped, caught off guard by the sudden heat of her touch. The dagger she had held so tightly fell from her fingers, clattering to the ground, forgotten. In that moment, you knew—she was yours.

Her guard was completely shattered. She no longer cared about the blade, the danger, or the consequences. All that mattered was you.

Her hands roamed over your skin, pulling you closer, every touch telling you what words could not. She was lost, consumed by the need you had sparked in her. And you could feel it. Every tremor in her fingers, every breath she took, spoke of a desire she couldn’t fight anymore.

She was completely undone. And she didn’t want to be saved.

She pushed you gently, the sudden pressure forcing you backward. Your lower back collided with the cool railing of the balcony, the edge digging into your spine, but you hardly noticed.

Now both of her hands remained on your skin, trailing with deliberate slowness beneath the cloth of your dress, exploring, caressing. The sensation was electric, every touch setting your nerves on fire as she grew bolder, her fingers brushing over every inch of exposed flesh.

You could feel the heat radiating from her, the desperation in the way she touched you, as if she couldn't get close enough. The world around you faded, leaving only the sound of her breath and the feeling of her hands, relentless and tender at the same time.

And still, she didn't stop.

You could hear her heavy, desperate gasps, each one shaky and uneven, but she didn’t break the kiss. Not even for a second. Her lips were pressed to yours with an urgency that left no room for hesitation, no space for restraint.

Every breath she took mingled with yours, each one more desperate than the last, as if she was trying to inhale all of you, trying to drown in the very essence of you. Her hands continued their exploration, her touch frantic now, but still gentle—like she was afraid of breaking you, even as she pulled you closer.

But you could feel it—the hunger. The desire. It was raw and uncontained, and you couldn’t deny that you were just as lost in it as she was.

Her skilled fingers traced patterns on your bare skin, moving up to cup your breasts perfectly, causing a whisper of a moan to escape your lips. She broke the kiss only to trail her mouth along your jawline, nipping gently at your earlobe before moving down to your neck.

Her lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, soft at first, then slowly growing bolder as she began to suck, the pressure sending waves of shivers through your body. You gasped, your spine arching slightly at the sensation, every nerve on fire as she worked her way down your neck.

Her hands, relentless and sure, continued their path, moving over your chest, massaging your breasts with a delicate yet insistent pressure. Her thumbs circled over your hardened peaks, each motion slow and calculated, driving you to the edge of madness. She was so careful, so deliberate, it was as if she was savoring every second.

You could feel your heart racing beneath her lips, pounding in your chest as her kisses grew hungrier, more urgent. She nuzzled against your collarbone, breathing you in, her scent mingling with yours in the air. Then she kissed her way down your collar, open-mouthed, leaving heated trails of pleasure behind.

Her fingers tightened possessively around your breasts, and it felt as though she was claiming you, marking you as hers.

For a moment, the roles seemed reversed. She was the hungry one, the one consuming, devouring every inch of you with an intensity that made you dizzy. And you couldn’t help but let her.

Vi's hands left your breasts to tangle in your hair, holding your head still as she continued her kisses down your collar, leaving a trail of warmth against your skin. She buried her face against your chest, breathing in deeply.

Her mouth moved lower, capturing one hard peak between her lips and sucking deeply. You moaned, your fingers finding her hair and pulling slightly. She released the first breast only to capture the second one, her tongue flicking against the hardened nub before she sucked again, alternating between your breasts hungrily.

One hand remained on your other breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between her fingers as her mouth moved from one breast to the other, alternating between gentle sucking and tender biting. The sensation made you arch your back, pressing yourself further into her mouth as one hand found its way into her hair, pulling her closer.

You tossed your head back, your hair flying behind you as she continued to worship your breasts. Her free hand roamed your body, feeling your curves, your waist, before settling on your other breast, squeezing and kneading it as she sucked hard on the other, making you cry out in ecstasy.

You were panting now, your chest heaving as she continued her dual attention on your breasts. She looked up, seeing your face contorted with pleasure, your mouth open in a silent 'O' as she alternated between sucking and biting gently, her hands never stopping their kneading and squeezing.

The cool night breeze was a sharp contrast to the heat that simmered between you two. It swept across the balcony, tousling your hair, the wind grazing your skin like a tender, fleeting touch. The chill seemed to only intensify the warmth that pulsed between your bodies, an electric tension that refused to dissipate, no matter how soft the breeze was.

Suddenly, a rustling sound from just outside snapped you out of the moment. You instinctively pushed Vi back, and the look she gave you was almost childlike—a mix of confusion and disappointment, as if you had taken away her favorite toy.

"Do you hear that?" you asked, your voice low and tense.

She grunted, clearly frustrated at the interruption. "It’s probably just an animal," she muttered, but before you could respond, she quickly leaned in again, trying to close the distance between you.

You stopped her, lifting your top back up with a teasing smile, as if reminding her of the world outside the bubble you’d both created. Her eyes flashed with a mix of irritation and desire, but you could see the fight leave her as she stood there, waiting for the next move.

"God, you taste so good," Vi murmured, her voice desperate, and you smirked, enjoying the praise. "As did you," you replied smoothly, savoring the moment.

But just as you were about to lose yourself in the moment with her, a voice called from the hallway. "Vi! Are you with someone up there?"

Vi didn’t answer, her eyes still on you, but the voice repeated, "I’m coming up!" Footsteps could be heard approaching the stairs.

Her face twisted in frustration, but her desire for you was overwhelming. "It’s nothing. They’ll leave eventually." She tried to reach for you again, clearly not wanting to be interrupted.

You stood firm, cold and unyielding, watching the door as you said, "Go."

Vi hesitated, the want in her eyes clashing with her need to keep you close. But eventually, reluctantly, she left to answer the door. You could hear her barely muffled voice as she spoke to the person on the other side.

The loud knocking sounded again, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone stepping inside. And then the voice—sharply—spoke, "Is that a bite mark on your neck, Violet?"

You knew it was time to disappear.

Without another word, you slipped out of the balcony, vanishing into the night, your figure swallowed by the shadows. You didn’t look back. You never did.

Vi, however, would be left with nothing but her own confusion and desire, and you knew she would find her way back to you.

[redflagshipwriter]

Ghost Driver 2

masterpost

Batman, Danny reflected, was an irritatingly hard guy to find. Which was just plain silly! The dude had been in his apartment. He had seen the guy out in public by chance! It had been impossible for him to avoid Batman in a city of millions when that had been his number two goal! 

And yet every time Danny made it to a house fire or gunshot sound or the signal on top of the police station, the fucker was already gone. 

‘Can’t say shit about his work ethic,’ Danny had to admit. ‘He really keeps it moving. Why isn’t he having a break? He arrested Joker today and apparently met up with his estranged kid.’

He stopped in his tracks as that finally clicked into place. 

Jay was Batman’s kid. His estranged batling. 

“Weird,” Danny said, appreciative. Jay truly was a catch. He had a backstory! It was probably tragic, judging by the way that he was. 

Oh. He could probably like, fight and stuff. Danny mulled that over as he half heartedly drove towards the police station. Had Danny ever really dated someone who could fight? It would be nice to not be the protector. When one of them inevitably got kidnapped by a villain, Danny wanted to be it. He didn’t want to solve riddles or discover new powers. 

He indulged in a power fantasy for a while of being able to say, “oh no, save me!” and then just hanging around looking sexy and scared and shit. A goofy grin stole across his face. Teehee. He giggled. If he wasn’t trying to confirm proof of life he would be kicking his feet and blushing over the idea. 

Not that death would be, like, that much of a barrier. Jay was not going to peacefully move on to the other side. Jay was gonna be an undead motherfucker, Danny was calling it now. He had the spirit. 

He parked in a locked parking garage by going intangible through the wall and went fully ghost to fly the last stretch towards the police station. It was a little bit ridiculous to stake out for Batman, but this was the low he was resorting to. Ugh. Strategy. He had a strategy. Despicable. He had to, right? He had to.

‘If I do this, then he’s probably going to report the sighting to the GIW. I might have to transfer.’

Danny wallowed a bit in self pity about having a problem he couldn’t argue or punch his way out of. He stuck his hands in his armpits and sulked, hovering in the air above the main police station. Someone was hanging out on the roof. He squinted at them optimistically, but they were just smoking. He morosely did a few flips. The smoker went back inside, shutting the door with a sort of deliberate silence that implied they were not allowed to smoke on the roof.

Long minutes stretched out. Absolutely nothing happened.

While he was wallowing alone, he remembered to send his mom a thank you text and let her know Wulf had arrived safely. 

A car! Someone was pulling up to the police station!

Danny perked up before he remembered that Batman would not be coming to the station by car, and almost certainly not in a mauve minivan. 

The sun started to rise and Danny had to admit that it was not going to work out. He let out a little screech of frustration, hands in his hair. How was someone supposed to get a hold of Batman? He didn’t have a publicly listed phone number, Facecard, or… did he have a twooter account? Danny went to check.

He did. Batman had a verified twooter account. Danny stared at his screen for a minute, mouth slightly ajar. 

“I wasted so much time,” he realized. Then he switched to the account that Tucker had made for Phantom, took a selfie of himself floating over the police station, and tagged Batman in it. He pursed his lips and considered what to say for a minute. 

“I just wanna talk. HMU dude.” 

That was perfect. He hit send twoot. 

His mentions exploded before he could get his phone into his pocket. Danny startled so badly that he dropped it onto the police station rooftop. He shrieked and dive bombed like a seagull, desperately trying to snatch his phone out of midair. 

He saved it at the last moment, pulling up sharply to avoid dipping inside the police station. That would be awkward. Danny huffed a sigh of relief and glanced at the current landing notification.

‘This guy for real??’

Yeah, obviously, Danny responded. He looked at the next twoot that caught his eye.

‘Lmao this fucker thinks he can get an appointment with the batMAN’

Danny rolled his eyes and responded,

Get good, loser. He wants to see me. 

That did set off a flurry of speculation that he was fucking the Batman. Hmm. Danny frowned at his phone. Maybe he should talk less. 

Instead of doing that, Danny hunched over and started committing twooter violence, responding to people on indignant impulse. 

Someone cleared their throat. 

“A minute,” Danny said distractedly. He was holding his phone nearly up to his face and typing furiously about how @acovadobinch147 could get on his level if they only changed everything about their sour ass attitude. 

“Is this really the time?” A man’s voice asked.

Danny startled, elbows flying up. He kept his grip on his phone this time. He looked down. 

There was a cop on the roof. A cop with a seriously unimpressed expression, under eye bags big enough to have to check at luggage, and a death grip on a paper cup of coffee. 

“I’m not doing anything,” Danny said reflexively. He hid his hands behind his back. No. That’s suspicious. He took them out and put them in his pockets. Nailed it. 

“Ahuh.” The man took a sip of what looked like black coffee. “You might be loitering, son.” 

“The property line doesn’t include airspace,” he said promptly. 

The cop’s mouth twitched up slightly. It was hard to see under his mustache. “Might be. Aside from that, would you happen to know anything about the disappearance of the Joker from his cell?”

Danny blinked at him. “You know about that already?” He wondered. He shoved his hands further in his pockets and shrugged. “Yeah, he was really creepy and shit. I sent him to the Infinite Realms.” At the blank stare that garnered, he added, “the ghost zone? The lands of the dead. The unending stretch-“ 

“I got it, son.” The cop looked shell shocked. He stood perfectly still for a moment. Then he drained his entire coffee cup, crushed the paper cup and stuffed it in his pocket, and started digging in his vest pocket. “Don’t tell,” he said vaguely, and extracted a cigarette. 

Danny drifted a little further away. “Keep that downwind,” he warned. “My dad would lose his mind if I came home smelling like tobacco.” The odds of Jack Fenton showing up unexpectedly for bonding time were low, but they were never zero.

The cop snorted. “Sure thing.” He shuffled to the side a few steps and lit up. “So, uh, you want to meet the Batman to tell him you… to tell him what you did to the joker? He won’t thank you for it,” he warned. 

“No.” Danny blew a raspberry. “I don’t care about his opinion. I wanna know where my boyfriend is. Almost boyfriend. Well, we really just met, but I wanna see where it’s going, you know?” 

“…and you think that Batman knows?” 

Danny nodded furiously. “He was the last one who saw him, aside from Joker, and the unfunny dude didn’t know jack shit,” he complained. He bobbed in the air as he crossed his arms. “He was such a weirdo creep! He was making, like, innuendo about spanking? And I’m pretty sure he claimed he predated on Jay? And that’s obviously not cool and shit, so I couldn’t leave him there to be a bother,” Danny explained. He shrugged. “He’s kind of my jurisdiction anyway,” Danny justified. “Joker has major death experiences vibes.” He wiggled his fingers to illustrate this. “Was he ever declared dead? He acted like he was.” 

“Jurisdiction,” the cop repeated. “Son, are you… do you have some kind of foreign license as law enforcement?” 

Danny thought about it. “Technically,” he admitted. Embarrassing. “…two roles, technically.” Ew. He shuddered. “Walker gave me the rodeo yeehaw cop gold star thing after the last big prison break so I could help, and also teeeechnically I’m meant to enforce infinite realms laws.” He grimaced. “Because.” He ground a foot into the air as if it was the dirt. “Ugh, this is embarrassing.” 

“I don’t need to know the details,” the cop said. That was so unhinged Danny stopped to stare at him. “The Joker was taken into custody by another law enforcement agency, details are classified. Does the Joker still exist?” He was holding his temple.

“Yeahhhhh,” Danny drew out the word. He scrunched his eyebrows together. “If that’s what you want, we can just keep him, I guess. He can be a denizen of the Infinite Realms. Like me,” he added, because he didn’t want people looking for human him. This was a great alibi. The cops would tell the GIW that Phantom lived in the Infinite Realms now, and they would never catch him. He was going to live forever.

The cop took a long drag on his cigarette. “You’re deceased, correct?” 

“You’re blunt,” Danny muttered. “Yeah, uh, I’m a ghost. Wooooo.” He made scary fingers. 

“And your boyfriend?” 

“Not deceased,” Danny said slowly. Although something about what Joker had said was sticking in his mind. “At least, not as of this afternoon. He’s like, this tall. Square jaw, big hands, very white teeth, has a red helmet drag persona-“

He cut himself off as he remembered things. “He’s very unobtrusive is what I was saying,” Danny lied hastily. He gave a nervous laugh. “He, uh, rides bicycles, not motorcycles because that’s a cool guy thing, regular motor-bicycles regular bicycles and he has a red human safety hat for it. Ummmm.” He looked away shiftily and snapped his runaway mouth shut. “Yeah.” He looked back and frowned in concern. The cop looked awful. “Hey, are you okay? Do you have a headache?” 

“Nope.”  The cop didn’t stop massaging at his head. “Name?” 

“Jay,” Danny said. He wasn’t gonna give him a full name.

The cop sighed. He sounded like he was in serious pain. “Your name.” 

Oh, okay. “Phantom.” He did a midair flip.

The cop nodded heavily. “Thank you. Is there anyone I can verify your credentials as Infinite Realms law enforcement with?” 

Danny groaned and buried his face in his hands. Like who, his Dad? Some wizard? Ember? “Do you really have to?” He asked pitifully. “They’re all so embarrassing.”  The cop raised an eyebrow. Danny folded. “Literally anyone who can contact the Infinite Realms,” he muttered sulkily. “I’m kind of a big deal there. I, like, arrested the last king. There’s, uh, a few human magicians you could confirm with. Some ecto biologists in Illinois that you can look up. Any ghost you know, really.” 

So mortifying. He was cop adjacent. He felt queasy.

The cop closed his eyes. “Does that put you in the government in any way?” 

“…You’re smart,” Danny said, surprised at that deductive leap. “Yeah, I’m like, the next king or whatever. When I’m old and dead enough.”

“Fantastic. I’ll leave you my number and I’d like a way to contact you. I want paperwork on the Joker’s new placement tomorrow, I can’t be party to kidnapping.” 

…What was happening?

“Okay,” Danny said in a very high pitch. He, uh, was probably going to have to rescue him from Skulker and actually put him in Walker’s prison. He should have listened to Mom. He fidgeted. “Is there anything else?” He laced his fingers behind his back, feeling a little bit like he was in trouble at school.

“Yeah.” The cop dropped his cigarette and ground it out underneath his boot. “The Red Hood was wounded tonight, but survived. He left of his own accord, alone. I expect he’ll be passed out in some safe house.” 

“…so I should just like, wait?” Danny frowned. “I don’t like it.” 

‘I do have a clue. Jason Wayne. That’s enough to track him down, right? He’s gotta have a dead grandma or someone haunting him. I find his home, I find a family ghost, and they tell me where he is. Boom.’

“You’ll like it less if the Batman shows up to have a chat,” the cop said frankly. “This was a professional courtesy.” He frowned sternly. Danny veered back at the very scary face. “Do I make myself clear, son?” 

“Crystal.”  Danny shot off a salute. “I’ll, uh, go now.” 

“You had better.” The cop’s tone sounded awfully final.

Jeeze. Danny went invisible and left at high speed. He could take a hint.