#also i own almost every weapon

[cyborg-hydra-girl-thing]

I love Warframe, so much.

The super fluid, only touch the ground to start another parkour sequence, the floor is lava, bouncing off walls and flying across rooms and down hallways style of movement.

The >utterly overwhelming< number of weapons available. Primaries range from bows (Paris, Dread) to rocket launchers (ogris) grenade launchers (penta, tonkor), a handheld laser cannon (opticor), spicy bows (Lenz and Bramma are both rocket launchers cosplaying as bows), an 18th century naval cannon (zarr), machine guns with a 200 round magazine (soma prime) and machine guns that get more accurate the longer you fire (Tenora my beloved), innately suppressed smg (baza). You want a chaining lightning gun that will kill the guy you’re aiming at, and the next two rooms of people via daisy chains? Amprex. if you need a tactical weapon for grouping enemies the Mutalist cernos shoots an arrow full of grabby tentacles that brings enemies together for group hugs. Do you need a rifle to hunt cthulu T-Rexes (eidolons)? Rubico (Prime) or, my favorite, Kuva Chakkhurr - a black powder musket that shoots moderately slow projectiles, high skill high reward, you land a shot, it’s gonna feel it. Here’s a goody - Tigris (Prime) - it’s a double barreled shotgun, with a duplex trigger - you squeeze the trigger, it fires one round, you release the trigger, it fires the second! really interesting to play with, though with the changes to shotgun status a few years ago it’s no longer the powerhouse it was, though quite potent. Phenmor is also one of my favorites, a precision semi auto rifle, land a couple headshots to charge it, and it evolves into an archgun (gun for mecha or exosuits, bigger, and badder) that’s basically a minigun. Corinth (prime) is cool, primary fire is crit based shotgun, alt fire shoots an air burst grenade you can manually detonate over enemies heads (prime version, regular corinth is locked at 20m detonation). Kohm is an auto shotgun that spoils up like a minigun, the higher the spool the more pellets it shoots, very ammo hungry, but man if it isn’t satisfying to point down a hallway and watch it fill with red mist. Astilla is a shotgun that shoots glass slugs that explode on impact. Arcs Plasmor shoots solid walls of energy. like straight up, point down hallway, and you shoot a bright blue (ur energy color) brick wall of plasma. you can’t miss. Simulor is a gun that shoots miniature black holes. Trumna charges it’s alt fire with the literal souls of the enemies you kill. Shedu and Bubonico are the weapon arm cannons of sentient (enemy robot faction) that we ripped off and stole.

secondaries are have a bit less variety, but we’ve still got oodles of goodies

Pandero, a pocket sniper rifle, this lil handcannon is hella accurate for reaching out to touch someone, and alt fire dumps the entire magazine in an automatic burst. Laetum is the cooler pandero, land a few headshots and it evolves into an automatic assault rifle. Lex (Prime) was my starchart clearing gun, back in the day. space deagle. Nukor (and it’s cooler older sister Kuva Nukor (Kukor)) are similar to the amprex in that they chain to enemies, however they also have the quirk of having the highest critical damage in the game, with the lowest critical chance. (there’s shenanigans you can do to force them to crit, making them devestating). Pyrana (Prime) is an auto shotgun, it’s got high spread and high rate of fire, but get in their face and drop mag and see the magic. Zakti (Prime) shoots small needles that explode in clouds of aoe gas after a moment, really good for priming status effects and swapping to melee or primary to take advantage of. Euphona Prime - look, i love it, it’s not great, you gotta build it exclusively for the slug firemode or for the shotgun fire mode. it’s really cool, you should try it if you can, but it’s solidly just okay. Sepulcrum feeds on the souls of its victims to power its alt fire, and it’s just a massive beefy fuckin pistol straight out of 40K. Tenet Spirex force procs impact, and with the hemorrhage mod you can guarantee you turn some of those impact procs into bleed procs for DOT damage. Athodai is straight up like retro sci-fi laser pistol, it shoots beams, and alt fire has a big burst of energy aoe in front of you. Twin Kohmak are like the kohm, but smaller, and akimbo, for pocket dakka. Twin Grakata MOAR DAKKA. A beloved meme gun in the warframe community. just two fuckin bullet hoses that will eat your ammo faster than you can find it. truly one of the guns of all time, and a joy to fire.

and don’t think for a moment i’m going to forget about melees lmao.

we got Nikanas (space katana - nikana (prime) , skiajati ), we got greatswords(Gram (prime), Galatine (prime)), we got throwing glaives(Glaive(prime) Xoris), we got gun blades (like think those bizarre renaissance era swords with guns built into the hilts? got it? yeah, those, but space-y. redeemer (prime), sarpa), we have claws (venka) , we have sword & board (silva & aegis) scythes (reaper prime), hammers (heliocor, jat kittag), dual blades up the wazoo, single daggers, dual daggers, fist weapons, fist and feet weapons, war fans (quassus, arum spinosa), staves (Bo, pupacyst), tonfa (kronen), a gigantic saw (ghoulsaw), rapiers (endura, ), blade & whips (atterax, lacera)

[mars-ipan]

hey folks did you know i love super dangan ronpa 2

[kitteqq]

coolman jumpscare. anyways i wanted to see him in the game actually facing the screen in a hypothetical boss battle mod of 0-3 so. why not draw him. yayy

[dragonsholygrail]

I know that dominating and intimidating monsters with a nice little sarcastic streak are hot and all, we love them and wanna fuck them, but can I also get some nerd monsters?

Like I just want a little nerd. I also want monsters who are just total dorks over their special interests and they share that with you in their own excitable ways.

Minotaur bf who’s a total dork over puzzles and games. You’ll come out into the living room at midnight, seeing the bed was empty, and you’ll find him sitting under the singular light of the dining table. Totally hunched over his almost finished puzzle that he started earlier that day. Then during game nights he’s an absolute best. You swear he’s the most competitive monster you’ve ever met. Winning round after round, chasing that high until he finally snaps and throws the board game off the table and you on it so he can celebrate his victory properly.

Orc bf who’s a fanatic about collecting weapons. He has all sorts of antique guns and swords. Many that you don’t even remember the name of and yet you can recite its entire history bc your bf will drone on and on about it. Whenever he gets a new weapon he gives you an entire tour of his collection room, showing you how he’s moved everything around to highlight his new weapon. You can’t help but find him painstakingly hot as he handles it and you make your interest known to him. His eyes darken, catching onto your meaning and suddenly you’ve replaced the weapon on the platform but he quickly returns it to its place as he fucks you with the handle, rambling about its many uses.

Dragon bf who’s hyperfixated on the quality of jewels and gold. He’s studied the art of jewelry making and blacksmithing. He can tell you the grade of a diamond just by glance, not even needing equipment to check. He loves to combine his two favorite things the most. You and the rest of his treasures. Adorning you with only his finest jewels and nothing else. Liking most how they barely cover anything up yet make your body shine like the angel you are. He almost can’t help himself as he throws you down onto his hoard and ruts into you, watching the jewels sway and bounce on your delectable body.

Werewolf bf who’s a complete gym bro and knows everything there is to know about fitness. He knows the perfect forms to every exercise you could think of, he’s memorized all the benefits to each individual piece of equipment, and he can tell you how best to maximize your time in the gym. Not that he ever would, respecting your level of interest or disinterest in the gym. He knows it’s more his thing and he’s happy you simply coming along with him to use the sauna for members only… and their guests. He loves the burn and the freedom of the run as he works out and releases that energy. But what he loves more is coming into the empty sauna after he’s done and making you both work up a real sweat as he takes you on the bench, the wet squelch of your joining bodies echoing off the walls.

[mayflysdie]

No more. -Ghost FanFic

Story: Simon's wife is kidnapped and tortured, leaving him and 141 to find her. Hopefully before it's too late.

Trigger warnings: Foul language, torture, violence, body fluids, drugs, knives, choking, restraints, dark themes not suited for minors, mentions of pregnancy, bodily harm, a battle with personalities. (tell me if I messed any)

A/N: Haven't edited this yet so excuse the mistakes. I'm also not sure if I'll make a part 2.

When i entered the apartment, something immediately felt off. Like someone made the air thick, and the rooms eerily silent. 

I set my bag down softly, retrieving the combat knife that Simon had given me years ago. My eyes sweep over every shadowy nook and cranny of the apartment, searching for any signs of danger. I'm usually in the habit of leaving the kitchen light on, but it's off tonight - one of the first things I notice upon entering. My phone begins to vibrate in my hand, thankfully I must have forgotten to turn off the silent mode from my earlier meeting. Without looking at the caller ID, I answer it, bringing it up to my ear. 

" Where are you?" Simon's voice is on edge, and it sounds like he's panting. There’s other male voices in the background, it sounds like Price is yelling. 

“Home” I whisper so quietly i’m not sure he could hear me. Or maybe the heartbeat in my ears made it seem that way. 

As I close my eyes for what feels like a mere second, a sudden jolt startles me. The phone is violently knocked out of my trembling hand and a cloth is swiftly placed over my mouth, the stench of chemicals immediately assaulting my senses. My nose and eyes burn with an intensity that is almost unbearable. Fight, do something.

In a moment of panicked instinct, I swing the nearby knife towards the man who had seemingly appeared from the depths of the kitchen, barely managing to nick him in the neck before he grabs hold of my wrist with a vice-like grip. With a sickening crunch, my bones are twisted until I can no longer hold onto the weapon and drop it to the ground, letting out a muffled scream against the suffocating cloth.

Through the hazy fog clouding my mind, I hear Simon's voice growing increasingly distant as he yells through the phone, his words barely registering in my fading consciousness. As my eyes slowly drift shut on their own accord, a sense of numbness begins to envelop my limbs. Simon, Simon please.

The man roughly lifts me up, easily overpowering my weakened attempts at resistance, and I can do nothing but succumb to the darkness creeping in as my consciousness slips away.

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

As my eyes slowly creep open, I become aware of the lingering effects of the drugs coursing through my mind and body. Panic immediately sets in as I realize I am unable to move any part of my body. My heart races as I take in my surroundings - a dark metal room with a pungent odor of iron and decay, like a slaughterhouse filled with rotting carcasses.

I am lying on a cold, hard metal table, shackled down by heavy chains that dig into my skin. 

“it’s an incredible drug, isn’t it?” A deep male voice suddenly echos throughout the room. Coming from the right side of the table, where I can’t turn my head to see them. 

“You can’t move or speak, But… you can feel pain” He chuckles, sounding closer than before. 

Suddenly, something sharp stabs into my arm and I try to cry out in pain, but my body won’t respond. Simon, where are you?

“Mike, turn on the camera would you? It’s time for the show,” he instructed someone else in the room. He grabs my hair roughly and yanks my head to the side, facing him.

Then I notice a tightness around my throat, something cold and hard. is there a chain around my neck? I panic, eyes widening.

the man sees my panic and laughs, tossing his head back as if he’s seeing the best thing in the world. 

“Oh that’s good, I love that expression. I hope Ghost does too” He starts tracing my neck and collar bone with a knife. not yet slicing me, but enough pressure to leave raised, red lines. 

“It’s nothing personal, darling,” his gravelly voice whispers in my ear as he lowers himself closer to me. My body tenses and I want to desperately move away. “But, a life for a life, hm?” He chuckles darkly, his breath hot on my skin. “Unfortunately for you, I plan to make your death slow for him. His precious thing.”

My heart races as he drags the sharp blade down my collar bone, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. A searing pain shoots through my chest as he cuts a deep line between my breasts, and down to my lower abdomen. The knife seems to find its home there, digging deeper with each passing second. I want to scream, to kick and squirm away from the agony, but I am paralyzed.

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

Simon runs into the apartment, gun drawn though he already knows they left. That they got what they came for. A dark pit forms in his stomach, blind fury almost overwhelming him. 

He bends down to pick up your phone, and just stares at it. if only he could’ve called sooner, then this wouldn’t have happened. 

The vow he made when you married; to always protect you, let no harm befall you. 

it rings in his head nonstop, like a broken record. 

Soap and Price slowly walk through the entrance, Price on the phone with Laswell, who’s trying her best to locate you. 

Simon stands up when Soap places a hand on his shoulder, a grim look on his face. “We’ll find the lass”. But his words go in one ear and out the other. 

Price walks into the living room in a hurry, grabbing the tv remote and turning it on. “Simon” He says, and something in his tone makes Simon, and Soap move with haste to see what’s going on. 

Simon's trembling legs nearly give way beneath him as he stumbles towards the couch, reaching out to grab it for support when he sees your face on the television screen. His heart drops to his stomach as he takes in the sight of you, battered and bloody. The camera zooms out, revealing the full extent of your injuries, and that's when bile rises in Simon's throat, threatening to overflow.

He remembers how he used to run his hands across your perfect skin while lying in bed together, or how he would sneak a hand up your shirt while you were cooking and you would just giggle and swat him away with a spoon. He remembers staring into your eyes, like honey pools reflecting all the love in the world. But now they're red and swollen, almost unrecognizable.

Simon rushes to the nearest bathroom, tearing off the balaclava covering his face. He hunches over the toilet as his stomach lurches and empties itself, leaving him dry heaving and gasping for air.

Images from his past come rushing back at full force - bodies, blank stares, all reminders of the darkness that seems to follow him wherever he goes. But you were supposed to be the one good thing in his life. goddamnit, You were supposed to stay.

As Simon stands up and flushes the toilet, trying to steady himself, something catches his eye on the counter. Something white with a blue cap. His mind turns to static as he reaches for it and sees two very obvious red lines.

He slowly walks out of the bathroom, the pregnancy test held tightly in his hand. 

The television screen is now dark and silent, but Price and Soap still stare at it with blank expressions.

Simon closes his eyes, breathing slowly. calming his racing heart, steadying his mind. 

“Simon?” Price calls out, but he ignores him. 

Simon can’t be here.

He's too fragile for this. Too emotional and vulnerable. A man who let himself love and be loved, only to have his world torn apart.

No, what his wife needs now is a ghost. Someone strong and unfeeling, who won't hesitate to do what needs to be done. They took his beloved wife, his reason for living.

And now, he has a child on the way. She’s carrying his child and they’re harming her, hurting his wife and child. 

Not my family, not again.

No.

No.

No. 

This world will burn before something happens to them.

Finally, he opens his eyes, and Price is standing closer than before, his gaze fixed on the pregnancy test in Ghost's hand. His face has gone pale with realization.

“Simon?”

Simon isn’t fucking here. 

[lady-ashfade]

Our comfort

Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader. (Percy, Annabeth, Grover)

—£ Yes I know I haven’t finish the book but I actually couldn’t wait anymore. So, this is me with little knowledge so bare that in mind.

—£ Warnings: Book/show spoilers, Yandere! Behavior, Being bound to a place, Possessive behavior, Obsessive behavior, Manipulation, Characters fighting for the reader’s attention. Short.

You weren’t a known for too long goddess, much younger then rest of the gods. A teenager like age compared to them. It was strange to have more powerful gods look to you for comfort but you love it. As you are the goddess of comfort.

But, as the other gods started to have many demigods you saw how miserable they could get. You hated the fact they didn’t care for their children so you decided to stay at the camp for half-bloods when the time came.

The campers cling to you. You bring a comfort they never quite felt before. It was like a warm hug, like the ones they wanted from their parents.

You couldn’t leave, and at the beginning you were glad to accept that fate.

Almost always you are found surrounded by demigods and they just relax in your comfort. You are the one they go to with every worry in their mind.

Being close to Aphrodite, her seeing you as a sister and a younger child. Stories of your love for one another are still told today, as she gave ideas to the mortals of how great your relationship was. But in reality there wasn’t much to tell.

So her children have a mentality that they are your favorite and because of their mother, they have some sort of claim to you above the others. But that never works because you love the children equally.

The demigods have less nightmares with you around and watching over them.

Ares children fight often for your affection. They will constantly get into fights with others to show they deserve more time with you. Which you always scold them but it never sticks. They kiss their weapons each time to you, like a sign of good luck. Aries children are one of the worsts ones because they get aggressive at times, even with you. But the golds make them stop by punishing them, mostly their father.

Hermes children are hard to explain really. They aren’t aggressive, but they are mischievous. They take their revenge of stealing things from the other campers, pulling pranks. Or trapping some of them up and go straight to you before they can get there. Luke for instance, is always looking around for you and talking about his day. He’s either laying down next to you, or making you watch him train.

Many games of all houses take place just for you.

AnnaBeth, is constantly by your side when she has free time. She scares off people with a glare behind your back, knowing that she could put plan them. She also trains and makes you watcher her and needs your praise. Maybe, somehow you are her older sister. But, sometimes she just chills by your side not saying anything, she’s like a lost duck at times.

Grover however is actually a lost duck. You comfort him when his past missions fail and he loses kids. You are so nice to him and makes him feel special and brave. When he has to leave he keeps a coin in his pocket with your face on it and prays a lot. He’s not possessive much. He’s willing to take what he can get and is just happy to be there. But maybe if someone comes in when he’s “crying” and having you fuss over him then he’ll be a bit mad but never does anything about it.

When a new camper arrives you devote your time to them because they need it a little more. They come into a world they know nothing of, waiting for the parent they hardly know to claim them. You claim them like your own until the time comes.

So when Percy comes you feel something off with him, like he is special and in need of a lot. He lost his mom, taken from the world he knew.

Percy becomes the most possessive out of all of them.

He feels out of place but you are always there to listen to him. It doesn’t help that you follow him to make sure he’s okay. At the beginning you’re both following each other around.

“It’s okay, Percy.” You brush his hair lightly like his mother used to do. “You’ll get claim, and you’ll have glory.” And he doesn’t care if you say that to everyone because you make him feel special. 

Also, you protect the new bloods. So you’ll show up when he gets bullied and just raise one brow and they all back off. Can’t risk making you mad at them.

When Percy gets claimed he’s all alone again, no friends and the campers looking at him funny. Being one of the top threes son isn’t fun or easy. He shares a cabin all to himself.

So he starts to be the worst of them all. Raising his voice when you try and leave him and he manipulates you to stay with him. Can’t you see how alone he is?

He can’t sleep unless he knows your watching over him.

You pick no sides of the war. Your family will figure it out themselves, while you take care of their children.

[krilati]

Tim, who is not Robin, but still feral

Okay, let's say Tim's parents decide that even if their child doesn't need a nanny, they want someone to check on their son's well-being. So Tim is required to go to the doctor once a week. And after he tried to bribe his first one to just tell his parents everything was fine. Janette decided it would be someone else each time.

Tim gets a car once a week that picks him up to see a doctor he doesn't know.

That way he doesn't have time to search for dirt, and he can't bribe anyone, since everyone drinks his mother more than him.

So after Nightwing turned Tim down (Dick later claimed the boy was black-haired and blue-eyed, but since he was often hallucinating Jason at the time, even he wasn't sure). The guy realized he couldn't go to Batman and insist on being Robin. The first fracture (which is 100% likely to happen in the early days of jumping on roofs and kicking angry adults) and the doctor would hand him over to his parents.

So Tim came up with a Plan.

Batman was angry, for a month now someone, every patrol, has been standing up for criminals. If he's lucky, he manages to land 5 hits (dude, your 1 hit can put a person in the hospital, Tim just has short legs, he still needs to run to the edge of the necessary roof) when someone distracts him.

Last time, they poured a bucket of paint on his head, it became almost impossible to see through the mask. Another time, they shot paintballs at his head until he left.

There was another memorable incident when something small landed on his head, and the next moment he was attacked by bats.

But today he finally cornered the attacker, it was a child whose face was hidden behind a mask that completely covered his face, and his hair was hidden behind a hood. He slowly approached the boy, he needed to find out who he worked for. Who decided that they had the right to interfere with him punishing criminals.

Only when Batman grabbed the attacker by the shoulder he felt dizzy and then everything around him went dark. Tim quietly patted himself on the head for the backup plan of the backup plan.

After waking up, Batman did not feel calmer, on the contrary, this meeting ignited even more rage in him.

How dare this child run around Gotham so carefree when his son was killed, how dare he protect criminals when one of them killed his son, how dare he..

That day, a file on a new criminal with high priority appeared on the Batcomputer, Alfred only reproachfully pursed his lips.

By the time Red Hood escaped from Talia (Yes, he escaped here, I don't know for sure, but I think Talia was pitting Jason against Tim to ensure her son had direct access to Bruce's legacy). Batman and Tim's confrontations became legendary.

Tim even had his own name and merchandise! Several names, actually, he was called Gotham's Whisperer, the Soul of Shadow, or Little Shadow. And in various Gotham stores you could find little figurines of him with various weapons that he demonstrated during this time.

Nightwing adored the little guy, although he had never met him in person. In fact, no one except Bruce had ever encountered the kid. And although Oracle never officially supported the boy, she never warned Batman if she saw a small dark silhouette through the cameras. Although Dick really wanted to know where the kid got the sniper rifle with tranquilizers, or how he hacked the Batmobile to put a sleeping Bruce in it and send him to the Cave, or how he got so many incriminating photos of Batman that he scattered all over the city when Batman didn't take one of his threats seriously.

Simply put, Nightwing was a fan, and had wanted the kid's autograph ever since the kid evacuated an entire alley, including Bruce, by playing the sound of a pack of rabid dogs approaching.

Batman, though he had passed the peak of his rage, still made Gotham afraid if he was spotted trolling alone.

Red Hood was furious, not only did his father not have the courage to avenge him, but he also dared to splash out his aggression on anyone who was not breathing smoothly on HIS Alley of Crime.

[cranberry-writes]

Dating Headcannons for The Boys characters!

Please send requests, i need motivation

Characters listed; Hughie, Butcher, M.M, Frenchie, Kimiko

Warnings; Mentioned drinking and cannon typical violence/language. Also i’m barely on season 2 please bear with me

Hughie;

- He’s so so sweet about your relationship

- He gets you flowers for no reason other than he saw them and thought you’d like them

- He has thousands of reminders so he won’t forget anything, from a drink you liked to your anniversary he will have it written down.

- Later on in the series he gets protective and cautious about the relationship, scared someone (homelander) will mess it up by hurting you

- He’ll probably push you away a bit to try and protect you but after you knock some sense into him he’ll be back to normal

- Loves park/library dates, going on a picnic during the summer and to the library when it’s to cold out.

- He will do so much for you (flowers, gifts, dates etc) and insist it’s nothing but will cry (happy tears) if you do the same

- Don’t get me wrong tho, he’s still a bad ass (sometimes). He just dosnt want you to think differently of him because of it, he’s hurt people, killed people, and he honestly isn’t too keen on focusing on it. Even if you two are in the same line of work.

- And if you two don’t work together he tries to keep his ‘work’ life and dating life separate, very separate.

“You’ve never told me what you do for work, maybe i could stop by and meet your co-workers.”

“Uh, actually, i don’t think that’ll work.”

“Why not? is everything ok there or something?”

“I-, uhm, work alone, so i don’t even have coworkers for you to meet really, it’s really boring infact you’d probably fall asleep just from me talking about it hahaha.”

- You find out like two days later

Butcher;

- Little shit

- I mean that affectionately

- His pet names will range anywhere from “Darlin’” to “Fucker” and i WILL stand by it

- He’ll probably introduce you to his work before he does his dog

- But his dog is the big ticket, you meeting Terror is essentially his way of proposing before proposing

- He’s protective but not in the “i’ll watch your every move” more in the “im teaching you how to use every weapon to ever exist” way

- Honestly work would probably come before you for a while before he sucks it up and actually makes an effort

- Dates will be at the most shity bar imaginable, unless he’s apologizing for something then he’ll take you to the nicest place he can and put on a suit. (it’s the Cheese Cake factory and he’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt under his jacket but he’s trying)

- Unlike Hughie he will introduce you to his work at some point, granted it would still be a while before he did but he would at some point.

- He’s sweet in his own way

“Darlin’, look what i got ya.” And it’s a Garfield shirt a size to big but you still wear it anyways

MM;

- Definition of husband material

- remembers anything and everything after being told one time

- makes you baths with rose petals and candles and all that stuff if you mention you’ve been tired lately

- Takes you out to the movies and a nice restaurant at least twice a month

- Good gods he’s sweet to you

- He knows how to cook/bake and will make stuff for you all the time

- My guy will make a meal from your culture and practice making it almost daily just to give you a taste of home.

- He really loves back massages and cuddling after a long day

- Put on some crappy reality show for background noise and nap together

- He wants you as far away as humanly possible from his work, will literally say shit like “everyone at work has the plague you can’t visit” as a joke to try and change the subject

- Chances are you won’t find out

- His favorite flowers are tulips and nothing will change my mind about it

“Baby what are these?”

“Tulips, I bought them from a street market on 11th today. They’re your favorite, right?”

“Gods, sweetheart you’re perfect.”

Frenchie;

- When you two meet you both think it’s just going to be a one night stand

-…then it’s two nights, then three, then a week, then you start spending more time at his place than your own. One day you guys just realize you’re moved in and dating

“Are we dating?”

“…Was there anything else we could be mon cœur?”

- honestly i don’t think you two would get together if you weren’t working together, or at least you were also into some shady shit

- But overall you guys have a strong relationship, one gets hurt the other kills someone, someone is hungry the other is already cooking, stuff like that

- He also cooks but it’s only french food, it’s like a super power. He can cook any french food effortlessly but literally anything else he messes up

- If you are french he’ll be super happy someone else will appreciate the same stuff in a similar way

- If not then he’ll be happy to share stuff with you, teach you some french words and tell you about stuff he grew up with

- Honestly he’s just happy someone (other than Kimiko) will listen and take an interest

Kimiko

-I have a confession to make, Kimiko is my favorite and i have a very blatant bias towards her

- Kill anyone you want bby i don’t care ill always like you

- Anyways, It probably takes you a while to get close enough to her that she’ll consider dating you

- Once y’all get to that point i don’t think you could break it tho

- I think she would like constant minimal physical contact, like hand holding or leaning on each other

- I think she’d be pretty protective over you, like someone looks at you wrong and she wants to maul them

- Learn sign language with/for her she will love it

- Draw with her, get her supplies, like those alcohol markers i’m sure she’ll love them

- Honestly i don’t think she’d be big on pet names, she wouldn’t object to it but i don’t think she’d give you one first

- Cook for her, i just think it would be sweet and she deserves it

“I got you some of those markers you’ve been looking at for a while.”

Thank you, this is nice

- Please she’s perfect i love her

[peachesofteal]

you satisfy the urge to see Ghost with little babies and simultaneously make me want more of him with little babies

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader

He sleeps like the dead on and off for the almost three days.

Uninterrupted, undisturbed, face buried in a pillow, television cranked as loud as he can get away with, the noise one of the only things capable of lulling him to sleep and keeping him under when he’s not on an op or in an active engagement zone. He gets up to eat, use the bathroom or shower, climb the four floors to the roof to smoke, but otherwise, he sleeps. He eats, and sleeps, and repeats this very simple routine, as he always does when he’s here, until it’s interrupted one night, by the tap of a hesitant knock on his door.

The sound freezes his blood, every nerve ending in his body lighting up in alert, muscles priming for an offensive position. He finds the one of many guns stashed in the flat on his way to open the door, mask slipping over his face, holding the weapon tucked carefully behind his body as he looks through the peephole to find… you. The girl from the roof, the baby, Emmaline, in your arms, your eyes nervously darting down the hallway before looking back to his door expectantly. Shit.

“I’m sorry.” You rush out immediately when he opens it, peering up at him with exhausted eyes. Emma is against your chest, and one of your hands cradles her head, the other under her bum, while you bounce her up and down while also rocking back and forth. “I don’t mean to be a pain in the arse but, is there any way I can ask you to turn your TV volume down a bit?” You try to smile but it straightens into a grimace and then your eyes dart to the ground before looking back up at him. “We uh, share a wall.” You tilt your head to the left, to the unit next to his and his eyes widen. “I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to bother you, I’m not trying to be that neighbor but-“ Jesus Christ. You share a wall with him? His mind drifts to an image of you asleep in your bed, tucked up under your covers all sweet, lashes laying delicately on your cheeks.

“Of course. It’s not a bother.” The baby cries in response, a broken wail making her lower lip tremble and you pat her back soothingly until she quiets, little hiccups coming from her mouth while she rubs her face into your shirt.

“Thank you.” You’re still bouncing, still swaying, and he’s mystified, watching you stroke a gentle finger through her fine curls. She yawns sleepily against you, and the tension leaks from your body a bit, spine slumping slightly, shoulders relaxing a notch. You look down at her, checking for something he doesn’t understand, before raising your radiant, tired face back up to his. He really, really wishes he wasn’t holding a handgun behind his back right now. “They told me, when I rented… that you weren’t around much. I thought it’d be a good fit since…” you gesture with an eyebrow towards Emmaline, and he nods.

“I travel for work.” His voice sounds more raspy than normal, a byproduct of too much sleep, something you look like you’d probably kill to have. Fuck. He’s been blasting his television while you’ve been up with a screaming baby for two bleedin’ days.

“Right, well I hope we won’t be too noisy for you, when you are home.” A door slams on third floor above the two of you, the bang of it swinging shut too loud and you tense, something bleak flickering across your face before it’s chased away with a half-forced smile. “Anyway… thanks, again.”

“Of course.” He repeats it, like it’s obvious, and then just as you turn away, he remembers something: “I’m Simon.” You glance back at him, timid smile tugging at your lips, your own name falling from your mouth like you’re giving him a gift.

“Oh, and you know Emmaline already.” You lightly tease, and he nods, his own lips lifting in an almost smile behind the mask in response.

[spidey-capricornz]

Icebound Devotion

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader || WC: 1.8k

SUMMARY: a case involving a couple of hockey players makes Spencer doubt if you deserve better.

WARNINGS: established relationship, typical criminal minds level violence, mild angst, talks of blood and gore

A/N: i’ve been on a criminal minds kick lately, especially Spencer sooo this came to mind especially with it being hockey season very soon! Hope y’all enjoy! This is my first work on tumblr and I’m pretty proud of it! Graphic divider is from @firefly-graphics <3

➩ main masterlist

“Good morning my beautiful people!” The cheery voice of Penelope Garcia rang out throughout the conference room. “I hope my presence brought you some comfort because this one’s a real doozy.” She grimaced, taking a breath before displaying the BAU’s latest case on the screen.

“Twenty-two-year-old Bryce Carter from Detroit, Michigan, was found dead in the men’s locker room by one of his fellow hockey teammates. Detroit police said that poor Bryce Carter was bludgeoned to death by his own hockey skate and that his hockey stick was lodged into both of his legs.” She closed her eyes in utter disbelief as the words left her mouth.

“Bludgeoned to death by a skate and having his hockey stick lodged into his legs, that’s clear overkill,” Derek pointed out. “This Unsub has some clear anger issues.” You chimed in grimacing at the bloody crime scene photos in front of you.

Spencer adjusted his glasses and added, “The use of the hockey equipment as murder weapons could indicate a personal vendetta. The unsub might have a deep connection to the sport or even to Bryce himself. Hockey skates are incredibly sharp and can cause significant damage, while the force required to lodge a hockey stick into someone’s legs suggests immense rage.”

JJ nodded, “We should look into Bryce’s personal relationships, both on and off the ice. Any recent conflicts or unusual behavior from teammates or rivals?”

Rossi leaned back in his chair and mused, “You know, hockey is a sport where tempers can flare easily. We might be looking at someone who snapped in the heat of the moment. But the brutality of this attack suggests it’s more than just a moment of rage.”

Kate added, “We should also consider the possibility of a fan or someone from outside the team. Hockey fans can be incredibly passionate, sometimes to the point of obsession. If Bryce had a stalker or an overly enthusiastic fan, that could be another angle.”

Hotch stood up, “All of you have great points. Garcia, I want you to gather all the information you can on Bryce’s teammates, coaches, and anyone else connected to the team. We need to understand the dynamics at play here. As for the rest of you, we’ll discuss each and every one of your theories with more depth on the jet. Wheels up in thirty.”

As the team dispersed to start their investigation, you couldn’t help but feel a chill run down you spine. “Hey,” Spencer coaxed noticing your stiff demeanor. “We’re going to solve this just like all the others.” He reassured, squeezing you into one of his bone crushing hugs. This case was definitely going to be a tough one.

Arriving in Michigan, the cold air instantly bit at your cheeks as you stepped out of the car. The city was alive with the spirit of hockey, banners and posters of the local team adorning every corner.

As directed by Hotch, you and JJ were to go down to the ice rink and interrogate all of Bryce’s teammates, coaches, and even standby staff and fans whom were present.

Inside, the sound of skates slicing through ice and the thud of pucks hitting the boards filled the air. The players noticed your presence almost immediately and skated over, their expressions a mix of annoyance and curiosity.

“Alright, gentlemen,” you began pulling out your credentials alongside JJ, your tone firm but fair, "My name is SSA Y/N Y/L/N and this is SSA Jennifer Jareau, we need to go over a few things from the other day. We have some questions that need answers regarding your teammate Bryce Carter.”

One of the players, a tall blonde guy with a stern face, skated forward. “What do you want to know?” JJ took out her notebook, her eyes scanning the group. “We need to understand your whereabouts on the night of the incident. Any detail, no matter how small, could be helpful.”

The players exchanged glances before another spoke up. “We were all at the rink, practicing late. After that, we went to Joe’s Bar. You can check with the bartender.”

You nodded, watching JJ jot down the information. “We will. But we also need to know if any of you had any contact with the victim prior to the incident." You took a second, a question quickly emerging. "Why wasn't Bryce at the bar with you guys? After all he was found here by the night janitor."

The tall player whom you and JJ quickly noticed was the alpha male of the group frowned. “Look, we didn’t have anything to do with it. We’re just here to play hockey. As for Bryce, he was too good to go out drinking with the rest of us.”

JJ"s gaze was steady. “We understand that, but we need to cover all our bases. If there’s anything else you remember, now is the time to speak up.”

As you continued the questioning, you noticed a few of the players exchanging smirks and glances specifically towards you. One of them, a guy with a charming smile and tousled brown hair, skated closer to you. “So, Agent, how long are you in town for?”

Before you could respond, another player chimed in, “Yeah, maybe you can catch one of our games. We could use some good luck from someone like you.” He smirked looking at you up and down shamelessly.

JJ raised an eyebrow, her expression unimpressed. “We’re here to work, not to watch games.” You stepped in, refocusing the conversation. “Alright, enough. We’re here to solve a case, not to make friends. If you remember anything else, contact us immediately.”

The players nodded, their flirtatious demeanor never fading, in fact they were only encouraged as you handed them your card . You and JJ exchanged a glance, knowing that despite the distractions, you were one step closer to finding the truth.

You could not be happier arriving at the station, following JJ to the makeshift conference room the Detroit Sheriff's station had kindly offered. "Here they come." Rossi greeted being the first to notice your return. "Welcome back." Kate smiled. "Glad to be back." JJ huffed making you nod in agreement.

"How many muscled hockey players were checking you both out?" Derek teased despite knowing that you and Spencer had been in a committed relationship for almost three years and that JJ was happily married with two sons.

"I don't know Morgan, I was there for work." You emphasized dropping your body in the seat next to Spencer whom was working the geographical profile. It was almost like your body was on autopilot, unconsciously leaning towards his like a magnet.

"Good job you two." Hotch praised turning from the evidence board he was working on. "Garcia was able to find two more victims who were also bludgeoned by skates and pierced with hockey sticks."

Spencer looked up from his work, giving you a reassuring smile. "It looks like we're starting to see a pattern here. These new victims might help us narrow down the suspect pool." You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

"That's good news. The sooner we can catch this guy, the better." Hotch continued, "We need to cross-reference the new victims with our existing list and see if there are any common connections. Garcia is already on it." He suddenly glanced at his watch noticing how late it was.

"You know what, team? Let's call it a night," Hotch decided. "We can come back refreshed in the morning and tackle this with clear minds." Everyone in the room visibly relaxed at the prospect of some much-needed rest.

As you stood up, Spencer gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "We'll get him," He said softly, his eyes full of reassurance. You nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. "Yeah, we will." Finally getting a moment alone since landing in Michigan, Spencer turned his attention towards you.

“You seem drained, were the interrogations that bad?” You shrugged slinging your bag over your tense shoulder. “Just like any normal interrogation except I think I had enough testosterone for one day.” 

Smiling you leaned against him, “I don’t know about you but I’m ready for a nice warm shower and some room service. How does that sound?” You knew something was wrong the second Spencer did not respond to that. He cherished every opportunity the two of you had a cozy night in with you. It didn't take a profiler to know that Morgan's earlier comments had gotten to him.

Spencer simply stood there, his eyes clouded with doubt, his mind plagued with thoughts of inferiority. He imagined seeing you surrounded by confident, charismatic guys, and it made him question his worth. You could immediately sense his unease, and it broke you heart to see him like this.

Determined to erase his doubts, you stepped closer, gently placing you hands on his shoulders. "Spencer, I can hear you thinking from here," You whispered, voice soft but firm, "There's no one better than you. You're it for me." Before he could respond, you leaned in, lips meeting his in a kiss that was both tender and passionate.

You made sure to pour your heart and soul into that kiss, letting him feel the depth of your love and commitment. Your lips moved against his with a gentle insistence, conveying all the emotions you couldn't put into words. You could feel his initial hesitation, but as the kiss deepened, he began to relax, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer.

Smiling into the kiss, your fingers threaded through his hair, holding him close, as if to say, "You're the only one for me." Each movement of your lips was a reassurance, a promise that no one else could ever take his place in your heart. When you both finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, looking into his honey-hued eyes that had you smitten since day one.

"Spencer," you said softly, "You are everything to me. Don't ever doubt that." His eyes softened, the shadows of doubt fading away. Just as he was about to reassure you that he was okay and that he'd never let Derek Morgan get in his head again, he noticed an unmistaken group of hockey players walk out of the station, completely defeated.

Spencer turned to you completely confounded. “You planned this.” You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Come on, pretty boy, I think they got the message loud and clear.” Grinning, Spencer nodded and grabbed your hips, pulling you closer, indulging in another kiss just because.  

The hockey players exchanged glances, their earlier bravado now replaced with a sense of unease. Spencer's hand tightened around yours as he whispered, “I guess we showed them, huh?” You chuckled, “Yeah, we sure did. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[minihotdog]

Have You Seen My Boyfriend?

Summary: You see Simon in the mask for the first time

C/W: angst (?)

A/N: I've been wanting to write this fic for a while now and I didn't really know what to do with it BUT @celestialwhoree wrote this lovely fic right here and it lit a fire under my ass. I also don't think Simon would wear his mask outside of combat-active areas sooo I threw that out the window to make this work.

Word Count: 723

He didn’t even remember that he still had that damn balaclava on when they touched down on the runway. Months had gone by and eventually, as it always did, it began to feel like a second skin.

He never let you see him with it on either. Simon made sure to keep Ghost on the field and Simon at home. He’d watched countless men throughout his career take work home with them and the damage it left on everyone they touched. He wasn’t perfect. He had his own struggles in disconnecting from the adrenaline and danger, but he’d been meticulous so far.

Since you came into his life the balaclava stayed in his ready-to-go bag that you weren’t allowed to touch.

The bulk of the unit grabs their bags and heads towards the hangar as fast as they can, happy to be freed from the C-130 they’d been cramped into like sardines for hours. Their families wait for them, cheering as they get closer.

Simon knew you didn’t like crowds and messaged you to meet him at the compound instead, he’d instructed a private to let you inside the barrack’s common area to wait for him.

You were sitting on an ugly old brown couch fidgeting with your fingers. He’d been gone for months and your excitement to have him back home was mixing with the anxiety of being in this environment that didn’t feel right for you to be in. You wondered if he’d get in trouble for letting you be there.

At some point, you get on your feet and begin pacing away from the door in case they barge in to take you away for being in a restricted area unsupervised.

Simon detours to throw his bags in his office before heading towards the common area. His weapon and clips are long gone, turned into the armory waiting for his next embarkment. His vest is still snug on his frame, his skeleton-printed gloves still donned with months of sweat and grime soaked into the fabric, and his forgotten balaclava sticking to him absentmindedly.

You jump out of your skin in fear when the door swings open and spin around on your heels to meet your awaiting demise. Your nerves don’t subside when a giant man steps into the room. All the air suddenly gets sucked out.

He’s covered head to toe and the only thing your eyes can focus on is the skull print on his face. He closes the door behind him, his eyes not leaving yours.

You swallow harshly, trying to force words out. Or do anything to save yourself.

“Have you seen my boyfriend?” You squeak out. You watch the mask move over his features and you avoid his eyes at all costs. The overcast from the eyeholes makes them look like black holes.

“Y/n,” He breathes out while taking a step closer. You swear to yourself he almost sounds like your Simon but the alarm bells continue going off at the sight of him. You take a step back and in his exhausted state, it finally clicks. His eyes close and his eyebrows furrow in disbelief. He looks over you taking in your reluctance and the fear coursing through you.

Fuckin’ Hell

He reaches up slowly to not scare you. His fingers pull at the fabric at the top of his head slowly pulling the balaclava off to reveal his all-to-familiar face, his messy blond locs sticking out in every direction.

“Jesus, Simon!” You gasp, running to him and banging on his chest. “You scared the shit out of me! What the fuck!”

He wraps his arms around you, pinning you to his chest. You writhe in his arms trying to escape.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to.”

You look up into his sad chocolate brown eyes now freed from the darkness that hid them before. “I never wanted you to see that, doll. That isn’t me, I promise.” His voice comes out soft and full of regret.

He yanks his gloves off letting them fall to the ground so he can lace his fingers in your hair. He holds you against his chest, occasionally brushing his lips against your forehead.

Cats out of the bag.

He doesn’t know what to do now. What if this is the start of something he can’t prevent?

[dreameralive]

i think one of the most noteworthy things about Blaise that i haven't really seen anyone discuss is his tendency to liken others to children, his weaponization of it, its relation to him being a child abuser, and its relation to his defeat.

one of his first lines of dialogue, before he even introduces himself, is him humiliating Franziska by calling her 'little von Karma', and then bringing up something retroactively embarrassing she did as a little girl.

he frames this as genuine nostalgia, but to me, it's pretty clear this was a purposeful, and almost sadistic, powerplay.

there's also these lines. these aren't too strange, out of context - "let's all play nice" is a relatively common phrase, and in the second screenshot where he's discussing Kay and Edgeworth's friendship, they are literally youths (well, compared to him). but in context, it's clear that this is part of him attempting to assert his dominance over everyone else.

he wants to let everyone know that he is the adult here, and all they are is children - and thereby, they are completely powerless to his end-all authority, so they shouldn't even bother attempting to resist. this is further emphasized during his logic chess segment.

he calls Edgeworth 'my boy', he reminds him that he is his 'senior in life', he tells him he's being naïve. he threatens to never give back his prosecutors badge if he doesn't stop trying to question his authority. he asks him, mockingly, if he's scared. then, while grinning, he tells him that there is nothing he can do, and he should give up already.

he once again, more blatantly this time, is attempting to force someone else into accepting that they are the weaker party and that he could do anything he pleased to them, and once again, he is weaponizing the societal power imbalance between a child and an adult to do so.

i could go on and on for a while with more examples of this, but then that would make this post really long and rambly. so, instead, i'm going to discuss what his behavior ultimately results in.

this is probably one of the most disturbing interactions in Ace Attorney.

he does this purely so Sebastian will feel humiliated and ashamed in front of his colleagues, people he respects and who in turn are supposed to respect him. he does this to remind Sebastian that he is his father, and Sebastian is his child. to Blaise, that means he has complete control over him. and until this point? he actually does.

he has controlled every aspect of Sebastian's life to be exactly how he wants it. his path in life, his school, his tests - even Sebastian's constant usage of his surname serves as a reminder that Sebastian's only purpose to his father is to be an extension of him, a tool to feed into his ego. an object. something he owns.

note how, in their sprites, Sebastian is typically tilting his head slightly downwards, and in his crying sprites, he's leaning down. meanwhile Blaise stands high, and in his grinning sprites, his head is tilted up, as to literally look down on the person he's talking to.

but in the end, right before Blaise is convicted, right as Blaise tells him he should just remain his idiot son, Sebastian is looking up as he tells him goodbye. a way of saying that he's not beneath him, and he won't let him act like it anymore.

Blaise is immediately infuriated by this, and says all you've ever been able to do is depend on me. he screams Sebastian's name in anger - but it's cut off.

in fact, there is no more dialogue from Blaise after this. because he has no more authority, no more ability to scare Sebastian or anyone else into submission. in the end, Sebastian has finally taken back his autonomy that Blaise has robbed him of. so has Kay. so has Simon. all of them are children he has mistreated, threatened, and jerked around for his own selfish gain, but ultimately, they all still have more power over their own lives than he ever will again.

there's a lot more i could say on this, but these are all my thoughts i could organize. thanks for reading.

[asunflowerana]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

summary: there's an competitor around, and the boys will make sure to let them know who's worthy of your heart.

with: inarizaki team (atsumu, osamu, aran, suna and kita)

n/a: better bring an ice bag for kai. boy's not in a good situation.

⊛ miya atsumu: the show off

It’s unusual for Atsumu to feel insecure. He comprehends how handsome, talented, funny (his brother would disagree) and charming he is,which explains how he became so popular in school. Heck, he even discovered not long ago that he has a fanclub going on online. Based on those facts, it’d be foolish for some boy to try to compete with him. However, that’s not enough to make Kai, one of your classmates, give up on you. And that surely does a good job on getting on the blonde’s nerves, but he’s not a quitter, especially with something — better yet, someone — he’s been wishing for quite a while. 

So, Atsumu uses his best weapon against the enemy: he shows off.

Seriously, that boy looks like a peacock, displaying all of his best features and abilities whenever you’re around, making sure that Kai also gets the hint. He praises you in every opportunity he finds, helps you carry your stuff, gives you sweets and snacks, and even tries to impress you with his physique, either by carrying something heavy, or randomly stretching his body or flexing his biceps. 

But the moment he shines is surely on his volleyball matches. This boy overflows with confidence, making the court his stage to glow, and winning not only the game but a sweet peck of your lips on his cheek, congratulating his win. He gives you a beaming smile, taking a second to cheekily wink at his opponent’s direction, before returning his gaze to the real prize. “It was all for ya, babe.”

⊛ miya osamu: the competitive

Osamu’s also very assured of himself, aware of his many qualities (his brother would disagree), but when he notices that someone wants what he wants, a key turns inside his brain and he becomes seriously competitive. With his grades, physique, food, even his own Ma became a victim of his impulsive behavior — he couldn’t back down though, or Atsumu would be the favorite. It’s not a surprise that you’d also be included on that list, being his crush for almost a year. 

To prove that he’s the best, he likes to challenge his opponents first. It can be anything, he might even let the person decide, but the rules remain the same: no cheating, and whoever loses must back off immediately. He can’t say he doesn’t feel a certain nervousness when he does those challenges; but when he compromises with something, you better be sure he goes to win. He’ll make sure of that.

And since Kai’s dumber than he looks like, it wasn’t a hard task to make the boy fall into his trap. After all, Osamu has a secret skill that most boys his age don't think it's important to get.

 “I know what you're trying with ______.” Osamu counters, having found the boy alone in the locker room after PE. Kai rolls his eyes at him, finishing drying his hair. “And what’re you gonna do about it ? I ain’t afraid of you, Miya.”

“Really?” He approaches his adversary, starting to size him with an unwavering stare. “Then ya must know she loves some homemade cookies. ‘was thinkin’ of baking her some this week.” He gives him the best smirk he has. “You're not afraid of that, are ya?”

⊛ aran ojiro: the intimidator

Aran is a lovely boy. Seriously, he has such good manners, so friendly and respectful with others, that you wish all the boys could have the same attitude. He knows that, and that’s just his personality; what he noticed though, is that many guys get intimidated by him, mostly because of his size and tone of voice. It was weird to acknowledge that in the beginning, but now he enjoys the respect he gained from that.

When he realized that some nidiot was trying to win you over, he thought: why not use that, then?

Don’t misunderstand, Aran doesn’t approve of bullying at all, and he would lift a hand to someone if it wasn’t necessary. But maybe, you know, a simple warning might convince the boy to give up. It doesn’t hurt trying.

“Hey, Kai!” Aran finds the boy eating at a table in the cafeteria, and without waiting to be invited, he sits down right next to him, placing his chair very close his. “How'ya doing man? Good? Great, listen up.” He puts one huge hand on the boy’s back, while giving him a too-friendly smile. “I like _____. But I saw you trying to ask her out yesterday. You see, it’s really hard to date a girl if someone else’s on the way, so can you do me a favor? Stay away from her.” Low and clear, Aran’s voice sends chills over the poor boy’s body. Then he grins, smacking Kai’s back like long-time friends. “Thanks, bud!”

⊛ suna rintaro: the cunning

Suna’s really clever. He knows how to be patient enough to turn any situation in his favor: for example, winning you over. He doesn’t know how long it will take, or how many steps and casualties his plan might have, but everything he does is solemnly meant to make you fall in love with him, little by little.It doesn’t matter if a stone called Kai gets in the way: he knows how to handle it.

No man is perfect, so all he needed to do was find a flaw in his opponent. It could be the most silly thing, but if it made Kai’s reputation fall just a tad, it’d become a jewel in Suna’s hands.

And after a few days of observing his opponent, Suna found out that dear Kai is a womanizer. Heck, he didn't even try to hide the fact that he’s been hitting on almost all of the girls in his class, which made Suna very pleased, being able to record him charming a girl in good sound and details.With all the evidence, Suna makes his master move, revealing the whole truth to you.

“It’s okay, ______.” And there he is, cradling you in his arms and caressing your hair gently, comforting you after you saw the video. “There’s a lot of guys like him here. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure that none of them come your way, if you let me” His smile grows when he receives your grateful words, feeling you melt into his arms like you meant to do. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’ll always be here for you.”

⊛ kita shinsuke: the modest

Shinsuke’s so secure. It doesn’t matter if the guy who’s trying to win you over is the most popular, handsome, or intelligent man in the country. No one can change the fact that Kita knows you, the true you, and he knows that you’re perfect for each other, even with the differences that some might point out. You have what he admires, and he surely has admirable traits to convince you. 

So all he does is treat you normally. Except that Kita’s normal is a very high level of manners and care that many boys in high school don’t even dream of having, including his opponent. 

After all, it is rare to find a boy who’ll willingly bring you your favorite warm drink before class on the cold days, or help you study on the library so you can do well on tests, or walk with you to the bus stop on the way home just to make sure that you’re safe, or even send texts and paper notes reaffirming how special and capable you are.

And you found Shinsuke, who does all of that, and so much more just to see you well. Is there really anyone who can compete with him? He doesn’t think so.

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[nvirskies]

it's getting hot in here - c. la rue

warnings: reader is like half-naked? just no shirt on is all but reader is wearing a sports bra, nothing sexual just like a tad suggestive?, clarisse is a gay mess, kinda ooc clarisse, i know next to nothing about blacksmithing please hang in there with me, fem reader, no use of y/n, self-conscious reader, not beta read

summary: clarisse goes to pick up a custom order dagger from the forge when she's met with an unexpected sight.

hephaestus!daughter!reader x clarisse la rue

word count: 1.3k

taglist: @lvrue @azrielsdiary @b0ok-lover @star-girl69 @petitegavotte

from this post !

a/n: tbh might make this a multi part thing, at least a second part. also, so sorry this took so long to finish- i got sidetracked with a couple other things irl. hope you enjoy! men, nsfw, non-sapphics, 16- / 19+ dni

It was no secret the kids of Cabin 9 ran a side business to make some extra cash. It was pretty lucrative, given that there would always be a line of demigods waiting to have their weapon(s) of choice customized. Custom engravings, patterns cast into handles, ergonomic handpiece add-ons, and so much more. Name it, and it would be done for the right price, forged with impeccable quality.

And that was how Clarisse La Rue found herself heading to the forge just east of the strawberry fields with a thin paper in one hand and a small bag of golden drachmas in the other. The edges of the slip were just barely singed, and the writing on it looked nearly incomprehensible to many eyes, scribbled notes of her order confirmation and gods only knew what else. It didn’t matter to her, she just needed it to get her dagger and go.

Crowds parted for her like the Red Sea, once-lively conversations coming to a grinding halt as she walked straight through crowds and groups with nothing more than a glare and a sharp look in any general direction. 

In no time at all, the familiar sounds of machinery clanking, fire hissing and crackling, and hammers striking metal filled the air. It was the forge, the singular place where one could guarantee there would be at least one child of Hephaestus in there at all hours of the day. 

She pushed open the heavy metal door, swinging it wide open soundlessly despite its obvious weight. And what a sight she was greeted with. You were there alone, hunched over a piece of blisteringly hot metal, pounding away at it with a hammer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other.

Something about you entranced her. 

She didn’t know if it was the way your hair was pulled into a low ponytail, some loose strands clinging to the sides of your face, the way you subconsciously bit your lip as you focused completely on the red-hot metal in front of you. Or perhaps, it was the way your muscles rippled in the dim firelight as you struck the metal again and again, a thin sheen of sweat covering the exposed portions of your skin from both the heat and the exertion. 

Maybe it was a combination or something else entirely. 

As she gazed at you, a light blush dusted her cheeks as she came to the realization that you weren’t wearing much while working. The heat of the forge had led you to forgo wearing a shirt entirely, said shirt reduced to a tiny, crumpled gray bundle of fabric in the corner of the room. You were left wearing a sports bra, dusted with ash and soot and a pair of baggy sweatpants resting just above your hips.

It wasn’t as if Clarisse had never seen people dressed in less before. Hell, she’d seen her own fair amount of skin for various reasons. But this time, it seemed different. The slip of paper and bag of coins in her hands were forgotten momentarily as she simply stared at you from the doorway.

The way the dim light of the roaring furnace illuminated you from behind gave you an almost ethereal glow, the edges of the flames flickering around your moving silhouette. 

She could see the muscles in your arm and shoulder tensing and relaxing with every ever-so-precise swing of the hammer, and she found herself silently watching you work from the doorway. 

Ultimately, it was the soft clinking coming from the bag of drachmas Clarisse held in her hand that drew your attention away from the project in front of you. Your head snapped up, tense and a tad startled from the sudden sound, having been so zoned into your work that you hadn’t noticed her presence. 

The hammer in your hand dropped to the metal workbench with a loud clang, the sound reverberating throughout the forge, ripping Clarisse from the glossed-over, hazy look in her eyes as she watched you move just moments ago, having been completely and utterly under your spell.

“Shit-!” you exclaimed, jumping slightly and wincing at the harsh sound, eyes widening further as you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed far too casual compared to how she normally treated campers, especially given her outward distaste towards children of Hephaestus. 

And all of a sudden, you’re all too aware of your lack of a shirt and your cheeks flare with an embarrassed bright red flush.

Flushed the same color as the heated metal in front of you, Clarisse noted absentmindedly. It wasn’t a look she didn’t like. But of course, she would never admit that. The big, bad Clarisse La Rue flustered over something as insignificant as muscles on a girl? Impossible.

Her attention is drawn back to you, observing as you scurry to the other side of the room to grab your stashed-away shirt, slipping the loose grey fabric over your body, any and all views of the muscles she had seen just moments prior completely disappearing in a matter of seconds.

After having taken a few calming breaths, you steeled yourself for a barrage of snarky remarks that you were sure would come spewing out of the Ares cabin counselor’s mouth like acid out of the myrmeke’s mouths, but they never came.

Instead, you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed to be a bit flustered? Her eyes didn’t meet yours for a moment before she straightened herself out. Before your very eyes, you watched her cool and collected facade slip over her like a mask, and that trademark smirk of hers tugged at the corners of her lips.

“I’m here to pick up an order, under my name,” she remarks, holding up the bag of drachmas and thin slip of paper in an outstretched hand. Her gaze seemed like it was scrutinizing everything about your appearance from the baggy grey shirt that hung loosely over your frame to the soot just barely smudged on your forehead. Whether it was a good or bad look you had no idea, subconsciously shrinking into the shadows of the dimly lit forge.

“Right, right, La Rue…” you trail off nervously, scanning the room for the rack that held completed orders and leafing through the tags attached to each object. “La Rue, La Rue, La Rue, where is it-?” you muse to yourself, repeating her last name in a hushed tone until the sight of it comes into view. The dagger she had ordered was at the edge of the table, with the request for a heavyweight handle and an etching of her initials into the butt of it.

Normally, Clarisse would have found your behavior annoying if it were coming from anyone else, but oddly enough, she quite liked the way her last name rolled off your tongue. It felt almost natural, too natural. Quickly, she brushed away the lingering thoughts about how you had looked almost god-like with the flame from the roaring furnace glowing behind you, the thoughts of what your skin would feel like under her hands. 

After a beat of silence, you grabbed said dagger, placed a little ball of clay over its razor-sharp tip, and slipped it into a small drawstring bag, pulling it closed. 

“That’ll be five golden drachmas, La Rue, or fifteen silver ones. Whatever works for you” you say as you hand her the bag, other hand outstretched for the paper she held and to take the coins. She dropped the five golden coins in your palm and grabbed the bag to turn on her heel and walk out without another word.

Or so you thought.

“Thanks for the weapon. I’ll see you around, pretty girl.”

[vonlycaonwife]

May I please have a smexy von lycoan x maid!reader, (fem please) where the new maid is a clutz and gets on Von's nerves on accident. and then one day he loses his composure and decides to 'punish' her and maybe teach her a lesson about proper serving etiquette. please scenario, i would like to hear your thoughts. ;)

I know who you are you sonuva- ANYWAY yeah I can do that.....lord help me

Female reader! Also very ooc!

Warnings: Smut, breeding, face fucking, knotting, dubious consent, unbalanced power dynamics (boss/worker like), severely ooc, partially written before game release

He has just about had it.

A few months ago the agency had just hired a new employee, one that Lycaon had to supervise. She seemed very sweet and excited to do her job, something he enjoyed seeing since those at Victoria Housekeeping Co. must have a good head on their shoulders to do their job.

But then it turned out she was even more of a clutz than Corin, something that's baffled almost everyone.

An often occurrence would be her cleaning something to perfection, only to end up breaking said thing. Another would be her always burning whatever it was she was baking, or adding too much of something. Even during hollow raids she and others end up getting hurt by her own weapon rather than by ethereal. Mainly the only thing she can do is serve tea and even that's a fifty-fifty on if she'll drop the cup in your lap or not. It was astounding how many things went wrong when she was near, though she was always apologetic over every mess up.

And today Lycaon had to scold her once again over the continuous trip ups, though he has not done that yet since the woman was late for their meeting again. 

It was bad enough for him that he had to deal with his own body that was determined to start a rut, but combine that with the fact that the woman that irritated him to no end also had a scent that drove him mad. He usually had better control over himself, but every time something happened that involved her he would have to steel his nerves or otherwise he would go into a full rut. It annoyed him to no end. Though he supposed it was why he was harsher on her than he was on anyone else, as much as he hated to admit. Others had brought it up to him about his behavior, but he would rather be harsher than act like a feral dog. 

"You're late." He huffed once he heard the door open, he turned his eyes to meet the doe like ones of the woman. He held back a growl as her scent entered his nose, quickly placing his hands onto the desk to keep himself from tearing into his uniform. She flinched at his tone, brows pinched in anxiety.

"I'm sorry, I was trying to run here to be on time and...I bumped into someone and caused another mess. I cleaned it up though! So it's no worries!" She reassured, waving her hands around in an attempt to placate his wrath. She tried to smile even when the atmosphere began to grow cold, something that irritated the man even more.

"Another one? How many has that been today?" He asked angrily, his claws just barely scratching into the wood of his desk. Her scent was driving him mad, he had to keep his mind off of it by directing his growing frustrations onto her. 

The woman flinched again, fear rising within her. While she was used to being scolded, this kind of anger aimed towards her was new and frightening. At most the wolf was only ever annoyed or frustrated, but now she felt like she was about to be eaten alive.

"It seems you need another lesson." He said, suddenly calm. At least what she thought was calm, but at meeting his eyes once again all she could see was unbridled anger. Along with something else she couldn't discern. As he stood she froze in place, her hands gripping onto her skirt tightly her knuckles almost turned white. The two kept eye contact as the large man walked his way around his desk, ignoring the claw marks, before standing directly in front of the woman. "We've had this conversation so many times, but it seems you're not getting it.”

"I-I'm sorry Sir! I'll do better, I promise!” She begged, straining her neck to look up at him. While she wasn't that short, she always had a hard time not cramping her neck whenever she had to look at Lycaon. She shivered under his gaze, steeling her nerves so she wouldn't step back in fear. While she is able to handle most things, right now it almost felt like she was prey staring into the face of a predator. “Really I will.”

“You say that…” He started, before suddenly growling with a ferocity that terrified her. She suddenly backed up, her mind running over what options she had, before her back ran into the door behind her. She quickly turned around, her flight instincts blaring danger in her head, attempting to open the door before she felt hands slam onto the surface beside her. Frozen in place she could only be aware of her thoughts screaming at her to run, before it all stopped when she felt his breath hit her neck. “And yet you never seem to improve.”

Lycaon can only berate himself as his own body had seemed to be taken over by his instincts. Just the sight of her looking up at him with her wide eyes had made him mad, he couldn't stop himself from wanting to be closer to her. Her scent was overriding his sense of smell, the feel of her shaking in fear under him was embarrassingly delicious. He didn't think of himself to be cruel, and yet he relished in her fear. His hands were shaking against the door, claws scratching at the surface while he barely tried to reign in himself.

“Do you even know how much you irritate me? How annoying it is to have to have these talks with you every damn week?” He growled out, his nose brushing against her hair as he spoke. His claws dug deeper into the wooden surface as he tried to keep himself from touching her with them. He knew if he did that he couldn't go back, he wouldn't be able to hold himself together like he barely is at this moment. His sharp ears heard her gasp as the sound of wood splitting rang out. “Do you even know how hard it is to keep myself contained with that smell of yours?”

“I-”

“Shut up.” He brushed his teeth against the skin of her neck, groaning as he heard her whimper in fear. But what also caught his attention was that her scent somehow became even more potent, making him realize something. He slowly released his hands from the wooden surface, giving them a quick glance for any potential splinters, before dropping to his knees. His hands lifted up her skirt, releasing an enormous wave of her scent. He quickly moved his face closer to her, his nose brushing against her core.

“S-Sir!” She yelped, her hands moving to try and move him away before he could realize. But she stopped when he heard him growl, ordering her to stay in place. Understanding he figured out how she was suddenly turned on by the sudden turn of events, she obeyed his order. She stared at the patterns of the wood, trying to keep her mind off the fact that her superior was suddenly sniffing her like a horny animal. Not that she minded too much, as she had developed a small crush on him since gaining her job at the company. 

“Lesson one, speak when spoken to.” He said, his hands gently caressing her thighs as he nudged them to spread apart.

“B-But-”

“Quiet.” He ordered, before pressing his nose against her once more. He could feel his entire body shiver as the woman's scent flooded his senses. His ears could pick up the noises she tried to repress, causing him to huff in amusement. He used one hand to move the thin fabric that separated him from her bare skin aside, making it possible to place his long tongue along her folds.

“Ah! S-Sir wait-”

“I said, be quiet.” He grunted, adding a growl to emphasize his order. He felt her freeze from his tone as he swiped his tongue over her once more. The taste that spread on his tongue was like heaven to him, completely making him forget the world around him as he pushed his face deeper to taste more.

As his tongue entered her, her hands quickly flew to cover her mouth to prevent any noises from escaping. Her forehead leaned against the door as she tried to even out her breathing, her legs began to shake as she felt his tongue reach deeper. She could feel his hands gripping tighten as a way to keep her still, his claws digging into her skin in a way that brought no pain to her. 

Soon she began to feel that familiar coil within her tighten, causing her to grip onto her face harden. She could feel his tongue quicken its pace as her walls constricted, her whole body shook as she felt that coil ready to burst. Only to be met with a sudden emptiness causing her to quickly turn her head around to see him stand up. She wanted to ask why he stopped, before she suddenly was lifted into the air. Squealing at the movement, she wiggled in his grip before she found herself placed onto one of the plush chairs. After blinking a bit to understand what had happened, she looked up to see his piercing red eye staring down back at her.

“Lesson two, all employees must fulfill their tasks with perfect proficiency.” Lycaon barely spoke, adjusting his belt before pushing down his slacks to reveal his hardening member. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in his size, her thighs squeezing together in both mild fear and anticipation. Wordlessly she adjusted herself in the seat and hesitantly wrapped one hand around him, slowly moving it along the shaft. She closed her eyes in embarrassment, but a gentle began to pet her head, making her meet his eyes once more. “Just relax.”

His voice was very gentle, putting her in a shock before she could realize he removed her hand and pressed the head of his cock against her slightly parted lips. She almost jumped at the contact before that hand gripped her hair to keep her in place. The low growl he released was the only warning he would give her. Shivering she widened her opened mouth and slowly gave small licks, earning a hum in approval. Soon she leaned forward, bringing the head into her mouth and sucking. Her hands were gripping onto the skirt of her uniform, knuckles turning white as she tried her best to keep her mouth wide enough to accommodate his size. 

Quickly the thirian took charge and began to move his hips slowly, pushing his length further and further down her throat. As time went on his pace became rougher and faster, causing tears to start welling in her eyes. But she made no complaint, only kept her eyes shut as she focused on breathing through her nose. Embarrassingly she could feel the spot on the cushion seat below her become damp, making her whine against him. Though she could barely hear herself over the growls the man was releasing. Soon she could feel him pulsate against her tongue, but before he could cum, he released himself from her mouth. 

Before she could question anything, she suddenly felt him grab her by the waist and all but slam her onto the desk. But nothing happened, he only stared into her eyes. It’s as if he was hesitant to do anything else, his claws gripping onto with the same intensity as earlier. The two stayed in their fixed position before one finally spoke.

“Do you want this?” The words barely came out of the thirian, more so only able to leave past his lips with his pants.

“W-What?”

“I’m asking if you truly want this, because if this goes further then we can’t go back.” He slowly explains, like he was in a daze.

“Oh…” She blinks, her muddled brain struggling to fully comprehend what he was saying. But once it settled itself within her thoughts did all the muddiness completely disappear. “O-Oh! Y-Yeah I am! I’ve uh…”

Her face flushes as she attempts to get her thoughts in order. “I’ve already…had some feelings for you so…if you don’t-eep!”

His lips slam onto hers, interrupting her words. She lets out a surprised squeal, tensing in his grip, before relaxing and wrapping her arms around his neck. She moaned as his tongue explored her mouth, swallowing her noises as he reached one hand to rub circles around her clit. Soon she felt the tip of his cock nudge at her entrance, causing her to tense once more.

“Relax.” She could barely hear him say as he slowly thrust himself inside. Her insides almost felt like they were on fire from the sheer intense heat of his length. When he finally completely filled her, tears were running down her face as she tried not to move and adjust. Lycaon trailed soft kisses all over her face as he waited for her to give the go ahead. Soon she began to relax, leaning her head against his shoulder.

Reading her body languages, Lycaon began to move his hips at a slow pace. He closed his eyes as he concentrated on not losing control, the way he could only smell her scent and the fact it was all over him made him almost go insane. The one hand still holding onto the desk tightened around the wood, close to splinting it like what he did with the wall earlier. He had moved his other hand to her clothed waist, keeping her in place as soon began to speed up. Her whines rang out of the room, adding fuel to the fire of his loosening restraint.

As he focused on controlling his instincts, he somehow didn’t notice her fingers settling into the fur at the back of his neck. She gave it a quick pull, not too harsh to pull out any fur, making him groan in pain. He opened his eyes to meet her own, glaring down at her intensely. He leaned down, growling out harsh words of disapproval. But the lustful gleam he saw in her eyes and her whiny begging was what finally drove him to let go. Slamming his hips against hers with wild abandonment, his teeth gently biting at the exposed skin of her neck while his hands grabbed onto her legs to move them on top of his shoulders. 

He was taking it all in, the sound of her moans and high pitch screams, the taste of her sweat and tears on his tongue, and the smell of their scents mingling together along with the growing smell of sex. He even could hear his own groans and growls, though his focus moved quickly to the feeling of his swelling knot enlarging. His instincts were urging him to push it in right this instant, but he had some restraint left to wait. 

Meanwhile she was overwhelmed by his rough pace, tears flowing down her face as she was slammed with wave after wave of pleasure. She could barely think, her mind only focused on the feeling of him filling her to the brim. But soon she could feel that familiar coil within her, tightening at such an alarming rate. Her voice began to break as it reached a higher pitch than her vocal cords were able to handle, her hands clutching onto his fur in search of anything to stabilize herself. She tried to let any words out, but was once more interrupted by him kissing her. She could only moan into his mouth as she felt something bigger push into her. Her eyes widened in shock as his knot was thrusted in, her body tensing and squirming as the rush of pleasure flooded her veins once more. Released from the kiss, she could only whine as her insides were filled with his hot seed.

“Wait.” He said, gently keeping her in place as she squirmed. “Give it a few minutes.”

She nodded in response, having no energy for words. He chuckled at that, amused at her state. Once he was able to remove himself, he shushed her as she whined from the loss. She could feel her eyelids growing heavy, as her body finally relaxed after everything. She barely felt him move her to sit back in the chair she had stained, hearing him whisper about returning with cleaning rags and other necessary items. She wasn't able to respond before sleep finally overtook her.

She wasn't able to see the soft he gave her, nor did she even realize he had kissed her forehead. He quickly made himself suitable again before quietly leaving through the door, locking it to make sure no one would walk in on the mess he had to clean up. Though he's sure he would walk into an even bigger mess once the woman wakes up and tries to clean. But he isn't too upset about that fact now.

Since it just means he has an opportunity to teach her another “lesson.”

[lazycats-stuff]

U know those adorable videos where big brothers are the most gentle and just keep picking up and kissing their baby sibling no matter if the baby was sleeping or not? I imagine babybatbro (triple B lol) will be napping next to Bruce in bed and then which ever batbro will come in and steal the baby with no explanation hehe, I'd like to see something like that with all 4 batbros please

Awww... My heart, my cold heart is melting slowly but surely... So much fluff...

Summary: (Y/N) loves to nap, but everyone keeps picking him up.

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, minor cursing,

Babies are wonderful little creatures. So cute, adorable, extremely cuddly, kind of defenseless, but one hell of a boost for serotonin. Babies were also a source of anxiety. Whenever (Y/N) cried, one of the boys or Bruce or Alfred would check on him and would gently shush him and try to figure out what was wrong with their little brother, son or grandson.

Usually it was easy, but sometimes it was a little bit more complex. No one ever said that raising a child is an easy feat. It's incredibly difficult, but also fulfilling at the same time. You get some incredible memories on the way and a nice cuddle bug who to a certain degree has a calming effect on you.

Of course, while the baby is calm and sleeping.

Speaking of sleeping, (Y/N) loved to nap. Whenever he could nap, he would. Public, home... It does not matter where they were, (Y/N) would nap. Even when the press was around and was loud, if it was nap time, (Y/N) was out cold. It was funny to see it and nothing but hunger or a soiled diaper would wake him up.

More importantly, the little bat or little shit if you ask Jason, loved to sleep next to someone in bed. And considering the fact that every member of the family needed a nap, (Y/N) was a perfect person to nap with. Some said that (Y/N) was like a cat. You know, eat on time, sleep on time...

Almost like a little kitten almost.

And when (Y/N) was asleep and cuddling with someone, those who weren't napping would take the little baby. At this point, they only used nicknames like little bat or kitten.

Now, back to the napping situation.

Whenever (Y/N) was napping with someone, the others would just take the little baby into their own arms and slowly move away from the original napping person. Yes, it may sound confusing.

For example, if (Y/N) and Bruce were napping, Jason would come in, sneakily take (Y/N) into his arms, gently of course.

The first time anything like that happened, Bruce was napping with (Y/N), in Bruce's room. It was quiet and Jason wanted to see his little brother. So what does on do to go get his little brother? He sneaks into Bruce's room and ever so quietly takes the napping baby into his arms and slowly sneaks out of the room to go to his own room.

When Bruce woke up he looked for his son. He found him with Jason after 10 minutes of searching. Jason simply waved at him while (Y/N) was slowly waking up in his arms. Bruce just sighed and left to get some coffee.

Jason chuckled quietly and cuddled his baby brother who was waking up, slowly cooing and squirming in Jason's arms and Jason nearly puked from the atomic bomb that (Y/N) has dropped at the moment in his diaper.

" Oh you cheeky little- " Jason cut himself off with a gag before going to (Y/N)'s room to change the diaper and not die from the smell. He gagged as he undid the diaper and threw it in the trash. He is weak. He is Red Hood, but he is weak. However, this could be considered as a bio weapon.

Jason cleaned (Y/N) up, who was wiggling his legs and giggling. Jason smiled and then put on a clean onesie and then took him into his arms.

The second time that taking a napping little baby happened was when Jason was napping with (Y/N). He was sleeping in his room, his brother in his arms. And who dares to disturb them? Damian. He wanted to spend time with his little brother.

So what does Damian do?

After a second of planning he sneaks in and ever so gently takes his little baby brother into his arms, shushing him gently in Arabic when he started fussing. Then, Damian, slowly made his way to his room, gently humming to him to keep him quiet.

Once in his room, Damian started cooing to (Y/N) in Arabic. Yes, Damian has said to Bruce that (Y/N) should know Arabic. It's a language worth knowing, what can he say?

Once Jason woke up, he was pissed. Whoever took (Y/N) was a bastard. He grumbled as he started looking for his baby brother. He glared when he entered Damian's room. And more so when he saw Damian smirking, in the condescending way.

" You are weak Todd. What if I was a burglar? "

Damian was lucky that (Y/N) was in his arms.

Third time when it happened was when Tim took (Y/N) from Dick. Dick was sleeping on the couch, which was outstretched so it could accommodate Dick and (Y/N). It was a nice, rainy afternoon, perfect for a little nap with a little, warm and cuddly baby.

So that's what Dick did.

He took his little brother into his arms, laid him on a couch, covered him with a blanket and closed his eyes. He put his arm over his brother and fell asleep quickly. It was nice to fall asleep with his little brother and the sound of rain falling.

Well, it was nice until Tim popped into the living room.

Tim also wanted to have his brother in his arms. Everyone hogs the poor baby and Tim needs to make sure that he has his time with the baby too. Tim ever so gently picked his little brother up and left to his room. But not before leaving Dick a note saying where (Y/N) is.

When Dick woke up, confused as to where his baby brother is. Safe to say, he wasn't a happy camper when he saw what has happened. More so at the note. He just grumbled and went back to napping.

And the fourth time when (Y/N) was 'kidnapped' was when Dick took (Y/N) from Tim. The two fell asleep while they were watching a movie. And Dick, very gently took his brother into his arms, happy to have his brother back.

And once of the best things about (Y/N)?

He could sleep through anything as he was a heavy sleeper. He rarely ever made a sound while he was sleeping. So Dick took his brother back into his arms and simply left. And without a note even. Dick laughed in his room afterwards, happy to take his revenge.

This was all some revenge, but not a vicious cycle by any means. It was nice, fluffy, harmless revenge. (Y/N) was happy to be cuddled and held, especially during napping. And if it was a competition between the brothers...

Oh well.