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crystalflygeo · 4 months

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Last of her kind Emperor!Alpha!Zhongli + Omega!Dragoness!Reader

cw/tags: Your usual mentions of slavery and sexual themes, A/B/O dynamics and heat mentions. Also allusions to depression and mentions of death.

notes: Aahahaha this took forever..... allow me top explain: first of all my new job is killing me and second of all I'm going through a hard period where I don't really like anything I write anymore. This work in particularly I kept struggling with the pacing, the dialogues, the way I wanted feelings to come across or scenes to flow it's just hhhnnnggg. I told a couple of friends that I set the bar so high with the first part I feel like nothing else I write will be that good. Then the second part was "ok" but cut off in a cliffhanger and has been there for SO LONG that now I feel this will be underwhelming after all the buildup//hit

I hope it's not. I hope it's good.

Anyway this part is in Zhongli's pov and contains flashbacks which will be fully in italics! Enjoy! and thanks for caring so much about this story ;w; ILU all <3

<- Part 2.

Your instincts mess up with your head.

Your crying and anxiety have simmered to a cold numbness.

Hours blur together, time loses meaning.

The doctor comes by sometimes. The maids bring you food. But everything feels… off, distant.

This doesn’t feel… like your usual heats.

You curl up and sob, a choked soft noise.

You don’t feel hot, but rather cold. Limbs weak. Dizzy.

Your heart aches.

You’re so tired.

And so sleepy…

Zhongli puts down the seal stamp and deflates back into his chair with a sigh, he must have read the same line at least five times already. He cannot concentrate at all. It’s not even been three days and each hour, each minute, feels eternal.

He’s already gotten so used to your presence, so smitten with you and your little quirks, your rare smiles, the way your ears and tail flicker, your pretty eyes…

And he remembers those same eyes begging for him, teary. Your pitiful cry. Your distressed scent.

Guilt eats at him. As well as something else…

He’s been restless, barely slept. Your scent is a siren’s song on the blankets, tart and fresh and tantalizing, but you are not with him. Anxious energy flows in his veins. This emotion, this thing that is like regret and sorrow and fear all tangled together, cleaves him through. His instincts are screaming at him, rattling inside a cage of his own making. His mate, his precious Omega is in heat, you’re scared and lonely and need him. Zhongli has to suppress a growl and feel the shudder of his scales at the fact that he’s not with you. In your nest. Taking care of you.

It’s agonizing.

"How is she?"

The same question, over and over, at any chance he gets.

"She refuses to eat, your majesty." Xiao tells him, and he can feel the concern in the younger Alpha’s voice. “According to the maids she only took a few bites of the ajilenak nuts, the rest of the food was left untouched.”

…

"She's um... she's always sleeping when I go check up on her." Ganyu explains a little crestfallen. She too is worried. “A-at least I think she’s in no pain… she was clinging to one of your hanfus.”

…

"You should go see her, Zhongli." Ping states, a rare serious expression on her usual gentle factions. “Baizhu says she’s going through the worst case of separation sickness he’s ever seen. Is that really what you want your poor Yin to go through?”

He lets out a frustrated rumble.

“Of course not. But it’s for the best, I don’t want to… take advantage of her, or force her to anything.” Zhongli frowns, trying to focus on the papers in front of him again, in an attempt to ignore her piercing gaze.

“Is it really any of that if she wants her mate?” Ping retorts. “She was begging you.”

I know.

He growls this time, and shakes his head at his memory of you. It haunts him.

“She doesn’t know what she wants.”

“So, you’re deciding for her then? Is that it? Honestly, are you listening to yourse-”

“She’s been conditioned to serve.” He cuts her off, voice grave and somber. “Trained to be submissive and please. She likes me simply because I’m kind to her, she wants me because she thinks it’s her obligation as my mate. I feel the pull of the bond too, the need, the yearning. But I also know she is afraid of Alphas and she thinks… she thinks she has to obey me. That she owes me something or that own her.” His eyes narrow. “I didn’t need to bond her. I shouldn’t have bonded her. I just… wanted her to be free and instead I chained her to me. And now she’s in heat…”

And it drives him insane.

“Listen to me, we’ve both spent time with her, enough to know she’s opening up and learning to voice her feelings…” Ping reasons gently. “It’s a slow process, don’t hurt her this way. At the very least… go see her.”

“I lost control once with just one kiss from her. I will not do it again. I will not harm her any further.”

The elderly woman keeps silent for a few moments. Zhongli sighs and rests his forehead in his palm in defeat.

And then Ganyu approaches, a little tense, a stack of papers in her hands.

“Your majesty, the Qixing are starting to arrive, council meeting will begin soon.”

“Very well. Thank you Ganyu.” He stands up and nods at her, then turns to Ping and his demeanor softens a little. “You know I just want to correct my mistakes, and give her the life she deserves. At least a fraction of it, of happiness.”

It wasn’t supposed to go this way… Zhongli sighed as he walked up to the room where the “reunion” with the sumerian would take place. It was long overdue seeing as he had spent the night by your side, refusing to leave after you had cried and begged so desperately…

After he had bonded you.

He had initially taken the eremite’s claims with a grain of salt, but naturally he had to make sure. The last dragonblood had supposedly died decades ago, so how…?

And yet when he saw you for the first time in that room, he knew.

You were real, you were beautiful. Suddenly he felt a million things at once: He wanted to get to know you, stay close to you, protect you. Old draconic instinct vibrating excitedly on his soul. You smelled vaguely familiar, your tail was gorgeous, your ears adorable. What if you didn’t like him though? What if he harmed you? Scared you? Suddenly he was nervous, nervous of ruining this, nervous in a way he hadn’t been in so long, like when he’d been young and Liyue had been at war and he had lost everything to fire and smoke and dust and he had to make difficult decisions and-

He had always calculated his moves. No room for risks. Too much at stake.

But you, you disarmed him. Completely.

You, with your polite gentleness despite the obvious cracks beneath the surface.

You, with your beautiful looks and enormous potential, even if you didn’t see it yourself.

You, with that look of yearning and hope, with your soft lips and sweet moans, with your warm body fitting perfectly against his.

For once, he allowed himself to make a decision with his heart, not logic, not politics. Just instincts.

And he claimed you…

…

He enters the room. A couple Millelith soldiers stationed by the door, Xiao standing by his side loyally as he sits at his place of honor as the emperor. Your ‘master’, an Alpha eremite named Zaheer, kneels respectfully a little below.

“I see you liked her, your majesty” He offers a sly smirk. “Did she satisfy you properly? She’s been trained on her gag reflexes to-”

Zhongli -Morax- resists the urge to growl. “We are not here to discuss that.”

“Ah, of course, business!”

Business.

“Since she’s such an exotic and well-trained slave I suppose we could agree on…”

“Do you think of me an idiot, Zaheer?” Morax’s eyes narrow.

“P-Pardon me?”

“She is a pureblood xiānshòu. I want to know exactly how she ended up being enslaved by you and your people.”

Cold and calculating golden eyes stare down at the eremite.

“W-What… she’s desert-born!” Zaheer retorts back angrily “She was born at a heat house. Maybe she has traits from your people because one of them decided to get a cheap fuck while traveling.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Morax asks unfazed “Liyue has records of the last of her kind disappearing and presumably being murdered when a village near Sumeru borders was razed to the ground. Do you have a disclosure?”

Zaheer stands up and growls, clearly an Alpha not used to having to bow his head and accept things not going his way.

Clearly an Alpha used to intimidating and attacking others.

Xiao wields his spear and changes his stance to an offensive one. The Millelith guards also tense.

Zaheer gets even more irritated, feeling like a caged animal. Backed into a corner. “Emperor or not” He starts through gritted teeth. “If you’re not going to pay me then I’ll take my merchandise back and do business elsewhere where I’m not being accused of ridiculous claims.”

“You’re right that I won’t be doing any business with you, but we’ll see how ridiculous those claims truly are. Zaheer, by my word as the emperor you will now remain detained in Liyue.” Morax sentences.

The eremite’s red eyes widen in shock and rage and the desert-dweller shoots up to attack Morax, getting easily overpowered and neutralized by Xiao’s quick moves. In seconds his weapon drops to the floor as the Yaksha general points his spear at the unconscious man. The Millelith quickly retrieve him and the blade before Morax simply nods at them.

Months. It had been months since then and he had to begrudgingly release the man as no accusation connected him to anything. They were essentially out of leads. There did appear to be documentation of your birth at a desert village but Zhongli would be hard pressed to believe the half-assed story you’ve been told…

And since you are pureblood, then both of your parents, and most importantly your dam, was also a dragonblood. That’s at the very least one Liyue citizen enslaved in a foreign nation.

He would get to the bottom of this.

For now, however, he had to cast those worries aside.

The Seven members of the council sit around the large table, the Liyue Qixing, leaders of all the commerce and trade sectors of the nation.

Zhongli takes his place at the head of the table. Ganyu does so as well by the sideline.

“Very well, what’s our first topic today?”

“Did Master just… leave?”

There was silence at the table, Zhongli and Ping sit frozen and you get just a bit nervous.

It’d been a few days since you started your new life, and though Zhongli was sure you were warming up to it he knew you still had a long way to go. It was probably still a little surreal for you… such a big change from everything you knew.

The tension on his shoulders quickly drops again. He continues eating. “Yes.” He says simply. Ping follows his lead, saying nothing.

The faster you forget about that eremite, the better.

“Hm…” You continue eating as well. Your expression is a little conflicted…

You inhale.

“Was he… happy… that I finally found a mate?”

Zhongli turns to you sharply and tenses again like a cat bristling. He holds back his tongue so as to not say something he’d regret. Why do you still care about that despicable man’s opinion? Why do you still seek his approval? Did you really think he cared about you? Zhongli desperately wants to make you understand how that slave-owner only saw you as an object, how he fed you lies, how his mistreatment is inexcusable…

But he can only imagine how deep your scars run, and how that toxic mindset has settled and accompanied you for years. He cannot judge you for caring about someone who doesn’t deserve it.

“Why do you ask, dear?” Ping asks instead.

“I don’t know…” You mumble, poking at the congee with your spoon. “I always wanted to make him proud.”

Proud.

Him?

“I think what matters most is how you feel.” Zhongli says, his hand reaching out for yours invitingly and you place your fingers on his palm, getting a soft reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to rely on how others view you or think about you.”

You seem thoughtful for a second, your ears flickering back insecure but then standing up alert again. “I am happy” You admit. “Very happy. I have the best mate in the world.” You smile brightly.

Zhongli’s heart does a flip.

“With the excessive rains in the northern villages, there have been many floods and a lot of crops have been severely damaged or lost. Our previous contingency plan is in action already and donations are being sent to help the affected families. However, we must prepare for a decline in the harvest of certain grains and vegetables this season, as well as an increase in prices for a few months due to the shift in demand and supply.” Keqing explains expertly, the young alpha’s expression is serious and solemn.

“It’s an opportunity to strengthen commerce with Mondstadt and Sumeru.” Ningguang chimes in, leaning back on her chair, arms crossed. “The value of jade and other crystals is on the rise as well.”

“Not to mention, we’ll be employing several architects from the Akademiya to help with the rebuilding.” Keqing adds, turning to Ganyu, who nods.

“Greater lord Rukkhadevata and lesser Lord Kusanali have agreed on a certain exchange program with Liyue. I started drafting up some proposals already if you’d like to see.” The blue-haired secretary passes along some documents.

Ningguang’s eyes skim along the page. “It’s almost like our new Sumeru-born empress was a sign.” She smirks. “By the way, where is she?” She turns to Zhongli, curious about her fellow Omega.

“She’s rather indisposed at the moment.” The emperor replies dryly, not wanting to delve much onto the touchy subject. “Ganyu this looks good, however we need to think about-”

There is a knock that quickly surprises everyone. Who could interrupt a council meeting and why?

Baizhu peeks in with Changsheng curled around his neck, a frown on his usually gentle features. “Your majesty, a word. It’s an emergency.”

All the members at the table stare silently as Zhongli stands and follows the doctor.

Ganyu has a bad feeling…

“We have no time, follow me.” The green-haired doctor walks briskly along the wooden corridors, he looks… frustrated, dejected.

“What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t want to panic. He never panics. But something inside him does. It’s obvious that this has to do with you.

“I apologize, your majesty. I thought it was just a case of separation sickness but… the empress is showing signs of widow’s wasting.”

Zhongli stops.

His heart skips a beat. His skin prickles with dread.

“She’s… dying?”

Baizhu shakes his head. “It hasn’t reached that point yet, but… she’s deteriorating.”

The guilt is back. The fear.

“Given what happened, I’m pretty certain the shock of your rejection was the trigger. Still, it is highly unusual for a Yin to suffer from widow’s wasting without their partner actually dying, even more so for it to settle so quickly. Her reaction is akin to someone who had never left their mate’s side for years.” Baizhu explains.

You trusted him.

And he turned his back on you.

What have I done?

“In any casssse, it’ssss not too late.” Changsheng’s little voice pipes in. Baizhu keeps leading the way and Zhongli follows, though he obviously knows the entire palace like the palm of his hand, at the moment his thoughts are scattered and far far away.

“She needs her mate’s reassurance. I have done what I can with medicine but this is a bonded pair matter.” Finally, he stops at a juncture and turns to Zhongli. “Please, your majesty, only you can save her. I will tell Ganyu, Xiao and Ping of the situation, and if you need anything, just ask.”

Zhongli nods, mute.

The snake narrows her eyes. “Don’t leave her sssside.”

“Changsheng.” Baizhu shushes.

She is right to chastise him. He deserves that and more.

“I won’t.” Zhongli nods and heads down the hall.

Widow’s wasting.

The words echo in his head. He’s seen the damage it can do. How a broken bond, the loss of the most important person, can destroy someone inside. Did you really care that much about him? Did he really hurt you that badly?

“Please…”

He didn’t mean to.

“I have the best mate in the world.”

He feels like a monster.

“I want to stay with you. Sleep together. Like mates.”

He needs to see you. He needs to make sure you’re ok…

He stands in front of the nest room. The same one where he first met you.

Opening the doors only slightly to slip inside, Zhongli's eyes widen and a hand flies to cover his nose and mouth when a strong smell shakes him to his very core.

The room he expected to be completely saturated with intense heat pheromones… instead bears the acrid scent of despair.

This isn’t the lustful call to breed and have children that made an omega vulnerable and pliant. No. It is a desperate cry from a heartbroken omega for their mate to come back, to stay with them, to love and protect them. It is grief.

You are suffering because of him.

To think all this time… he was afraid he'd make you uncomfortable. That he’d scare you, hurt you, ruin the bond you’ve carefully built. Instead, he is overcome by an all-consuming terror. Every part of him screaming at his mate's weak essence.

And there you are, his precious treasure, his sweet dragoness.

You lay curling in on yourself letting out small muffled sobs.

“Y/n…”

No reaction.

“Darling, my dear dragoness…” He rushes up to you immediately, grabs your hand and pets your hair. You look so weak, your skin is feverish, how has it only been three days? It feels like a lifetime…

You shift a little and your eyes blink open, staring at him dazed, red and puffy and your expression defeated. You let out a pitiful whine and more of that bitter sad scent is released.

“No my dear, don’t cry, I’m here. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Zhongli coos as he curls up to you, frantically starting to scent and nip at your neck and shoulders affectionately. His horns manifest and his tail follows through, lashing about a little restless. The bond… feels wrong, broken. He should be able to intimately feel you this close and yet…

He tries to reposition you a little so you can lie on top of him, rest on his chest. It’s concerning how easily he can do so, you’re like a ragdoll in his arms, unresponsive and unmoving. His hands cup your face, thumbs rubbing at the traces of tears in your cheeks. You let out a frustrated whimper. “Shhhh shh it’s okay. I’m so sorry.”

Even if he says it a million times, it won’t feel enough.

Zhongli nuzzles at your neck and proceeds to do something he hasn’t done since he was practically a teen. He purrs. It’s a little rusty, comes off more as a grumbling but it seems to work as he feels you relax just slightly in his arms.

“I’m right here” Zhongli’s deep voice assures you, tugging you closer, mouthing at the soft skin along your collarbone. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m all yours, I promise, I promise. I won’t leave you alone, not ever.” He soothes.

He lowers a bit of your clothes at the shoulder and grazes his fangs along your faded mark, you tense and let out a long shaky breath.

“Everything will be ok.” He kisses the spot. “I’m sorry.”

And then he sinks his fangs in to reestablish the claim.

You cry out in pain and squirm, clawing at his clothes, but he holds you, his hand rubbing circles at your back, his tail intertwining with yours.

...

.....

...

At first nothing changes, but after a few moments… a low strained purr bubbles up from within you again.

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luffyvace · 8 months

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✌︎ Sitting in Zoro’s Lap hcs ✌︎

I just felt like doing these<3 I don’t usually do concepts and I’m testing out the waters so they’ll likely be short ;3 also I wanna do more than just relationship hcs bc it’ll be more fun ✌︎

enjoy zoro simps cuz y’all definitely be on my acc 💖

At first he feels it’s kinda pointless

like he’s thinking “why would you wanna sit on my lap?!—sit on a chair or- just- somewhere else!...even the floor or something idk?!!”

but however you somehow convince him to let you, whether that’s bribery (swords or alcohol), sitting on him anyway or schmoozing him over into letting you,

you did it!!

And that’s all that matters :)

he probably got tired of your relentless request and just let you eventually

While you sit on him he’s usually sleeping sitting up, drinking alcohol or just relaxing with his eyes closed

When you sit facing him it’s a little more comfortable for him

he prefers it that way

sometimes you lay your head on his shoulder/chest and fall asleep on him

he’ll scoff either way but he gets a bit annoyed if he was trying to do something that requires getting up

Like training for example

If he wasn’t too busy in the first place then he just scoffs and probably takes a nap himself

if he’s not tired he waits for you to get up

he doesn’t like to stir you from sleep but if it’s important like a ship attack he’s kinda rough about doing so- 😀

bro he basically yanks you up and yells your name

not because he’s trying to be mean 🤷‍♀️

Just the fact that if an attack comes your way you won’t be able to dodge—and protecting someone isn’t his thing when fighting, he always tells you to go hide if your weak

uh anyway 😗

When you sit with your back to his chest its comfy but like don’t be surprised if he picks you up and turns you around (i don’t wanna hear anyone saying they’re too heavy bc you obviously must not have seen the weights he lifts on a daily)

sitting like that’s kinda annoying bc having to crane your neck back and to the side is not fun 😬😀

plus you probably hit his jaw a lot-

Or things like

1) he bites his tongue

2) his teeth hit your head (and it hurts for both of you)

3) he spits his alcohol in your hair (when you hit his jaw with your head)

4) you hit your head on his nose

So yeah this position is less common for you guys

Bonus if your hair is long

then he gets his fingernails stuck to it too :)

he prefers you don’t sit on his lap in public

mostly because he doesn’t like the stares that come with it 💁‍♀️

he just feels awkward

If you once again somehow convince him to let you in public however…..

it’ll be the type where he man spreads and you sit on one leg facing him

that way he has a bit more space to move and one of his arms is free

just in case an attack comes that he needs to block

orrrrrr just for simply drinking alcohol 😋

on the merry/sunny he’s more likely to cave in

especially since it’s just the strawhats

unless they make fun of him or smth (especially robin) then he doesn’t mind as much

plus y’all can have some privacy in the crows nest most likely

ngl he pretty comfy to sit on

unless your really tall or smth he’s prob bigger than you

so it’s not like y’all are uncomfortable or squished

zoro after time skip is low key more comfy because you know that dark green coat he wears?

yeah it like bends to create a little chair when he manspreads

and idk if you know what I’m talking about but those who get it do 💗👍

Does he end up liking it?

yes :)

yes he does. :)

Im trying to branch out and do more concepts because it’s more interesting for me to write, and you to read so why not 😊

Hopefully my zoro stans enjoyed !! <3 ⚔️🗡

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teastainedprose · 5 months

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Play With Fire, Chapter 3 (Homelander x Reader)

Homelander finds your apartment empty and Homelander is going to be a creep about it. This chapter is a fluff break and an extra one from what I'd originally planned. 1.7k words, No sexual content. Female, plus-sized reader. Slight warning for hints of animal abuse. [AO3 Link, Chapter 1, Chapter 2]

You’re not home. This is new. Homelander frowns as he drops to his usual perch a building away as he surveys the area before scanning through your apartment building. It’s past lunchtime and normally you’d be settled at your desk working away on your PC, but the chair is empty. The laptop is closed and shut down. Where has his little bug scurried off to?

His frown further sours as Homelander scans your usual haunts around your apartment, but he doesn’t catch sight of your plump little figure anywhere. He blinks, reorienting his x-ray vision back to your apartment for another glance before his eyes snag on the whiteboard above your desk. It’s a weekly planner where he’s often seen notes of chores, appointments, or what meals you plan to have quickly scribbled on it. It’s Monday and on the planner is scribbled ‘FIRST DAY’.

He puzzles over that before it hits him. A new job, that must be it! He’s so clever. Homelander has certainly seen you scroll job postings and even caught you coming home from an interview in the cutest little businesswoman get-up. So fetching, he could have eaten you right up.

Now what sort of new job did a worker bee like you get? Something to research later, Homelander mentally notes as he glides quietly down to your balcony. There’s a better use of his time right now. You’ll be out for a few more hours yet, of this he’s certain. First day and all. Better make a good impression, little bug. Homelander chuckles to himself at the thought as he peeks into your apartment.

Today is the perfect opportunity to indulge, and Homelander has never been one to hold back.

The balcony door isn’t locked and opens quietly under his hand as Homelander smiles to himself, stepping inside. He already knows the layout, walking briskly across the wooden floor as he takes everything in from this new perspective. Being inside, instead of a silent observer of your apartment from above is a new experience for him. Now he gets to experience your world in truth. Homelander takes everything in with a new eye as he walks about, pausing to straighten a photograph or trace his fingers across the spines of your books. You’ve built a cozy little den here. It’s nothing compared to his opulent penthouse, but it reflects a creature such as yourself well enough. None of it is to Homelander’s taste, but he won’t hold that against you. The trinkets and baubles you’ve decorated your nest suit you and he approves of that fact.

Homelander pauses at the couch, plucking up the throw blanket discarded there. He’s seen you snuggled up in this very blanket many a night, tucked in with a book or watching your little shows. He brings the plush fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply. Homelander closes his eyes, savoring the scent there. Your scent. He hasn’t smelled you before, not really. The elevator encounter had been so brief and surprising that Homelander never registered what you’d smelled like at that moment. It had been all anger and stress radiating off you at the time.

He inhales again, breathing deeply with the blanket still held against his face. There’s the citrus scent of fabric softener, but also something undeniably human and undeniably you. Homelander finds that he likes it very much. A moan escapes him as Homelander presses the blanket harder to his nose as if he could imprint the smell of you in his senses. Idly, he wonders if you’d smell the same when he buries his nose in the space between your neck and rounded shoulder. Soft and warm and sweet like the hint of you on this blanket? Homelander sighs at the thought, the longing making his cock jump as he straightens.

Reluctantly, he drops the blanket back onto the couch as his boots take him deeper into your home towards the bedroom. The door is shut, which Homelander finds curious. Normally, it stands open as he’s watched you wander from bedroom to living room to kitchen and back again while your mind keeps you elsewhere as you putter about doing whatever little bugs like you do. He doesn’t pause as Homelander opens the door, confidently stepping into your bedroom with the eagerness of a child given free rein in a toy store. Homelander expects to paw through your dresser and give the toys he’s seen you use on yourself a thorough inspection.

What he doesn’t expect is the sudden attack from a black blur pouncing onto his foot with a delighted chirrup. Homelander drops his gaze, watching in a detached way as the kitten tries to dig its claws into his boot while kicking back feet furiously. He feels none of it, of course. He doubts even a mere mud person would feel anything from such a pathetic assault, yet the kitten is determined. The little creature squirms about, bottom over front briefly before it twists and promptly scampers off in a confusion of fur.

Homelander frowns. When the fuck did you get a cat? He should have noticed such a creature despite its diminutive size. The little thing is barely a mote of soot as it scrambles under the bed, green eyes wild and wide. The creature pauses, making a sound Homelander would call an undignified squeak ill-suited for a predator before it rushes forward again. His lip twitches, annoyance settling over Homelander at this animal disturbing his tour of your apartment.

Still, he makes no move toward the kitten as it stalks around behind him to inspect his cape. Homelander turns and the cape goes with him, fabric fluttering in such a tantalizing way that no kitten can resist. The little beast pounces or attempts to.

The frown on Homelander’s lips tugs further down now that he’s eye to eye with the green-eyed imp as in an instant he snatched it up to keep it off his cape. Homelander has never been one to interact with animals often, let alone young ones. The most would have been with such animals sulking away from him in the bad room, hissing and spitting while a doctor looked on behind bulletproof heat vision-resistant glass. Back then he’d been instructed to take care of the creatures to show how much he’d learned of control with his powers, but he can’t do that to this fluffy shadow.

A small purr emanating from the kitten draws Homelander from his memory as he blinks. His eyes refocus on the animal who now is trying to gnaw at one of his fingers through his glove eagerly as it thrums away. Poor thing has no idea who it’s facing. “Charming,” He mumbles before shutting the bedroom door behind him as Homelands steps into the room proper. He gingerly places the squirming animal onto the bed.

Homelander casts about the bedroom with fresher eyes, taking in a plastic mat with food and a water dish atop it. He doesn’t even need to sniff the air to discern the faint aroma of ammonia and cat litter coming from the open bathroom door. The little beast has been properly set up in your bedroom. A new acquisition. The creature is yours and confined here with purpose, so he can’t risk it suspiciously going missing. At least not yet. A cracked window later down the line will fix this little problem. There’s no need for you to house this extra distraction. Not when he’s so close to getting his claws into you. Homelander smiles to himself.

“Your days are numbered.” He points out, even going so far as to waggle a finger at the black kitten as it rolls about atop the bed.

In reply, the kitten promptly drops onto its rump atop the comforter and sticks a leg out. This it began washing intently. There’s a slight charm to such a fragile thing being oblivious to the danger present. Homelander cocks his head, watching the animal a beat longer before a sound catches his interest.

There’s the unmistakable rattle of keys too close that takes Homelander by surprise, too lost in his thoughts to notice the approach of footsteps down the apartment hallway. Your footsteps. He’s instantly on high alert, quietly opening the bedroom door and closing it behind him to not let the little beast escape and alert you of something amiss. He waits a beat, eyes on the door as he watches you on the other side while you fumble with the keys. The lock sticks as he’s observed and you never seem to remember to bring it up to the landlord. Forgetful little bug.

Homelander’s form is a patriotic blur as he rushes right across the room, to the balcony, to yank the door open, and dart out to the open sky in a woosh of air. It all happens in a blink as you click the key into place and the lock slides free of the deadbolt.

You pause as you open your apartment door, a slight frown on your face. Something like a breeze seems to have disrupted your apartment as a tapestry on the wall flutters back to rest. You shake your head as a glance about shows nothing amiss. All is well and now you’re smiling to yourself. Your first day at your new job has been a success!

Dropping your purse on the kitchen counter, your feet are quick as you move to your bedroom door to yank it open. There sits your stray kitten you’d taken in only the other day. He’s mid-lick while grooming his leg. You grin wide, quick to cross the room to scoop the bundle of fur up into your arms.

“Adrien, did you miss me?” You coo to him, burying your face into his fur as Adrien purrs up a storm. Indeed, he did. You laugh at his enthusiasm as Adrien promptly starts to lick your cheek as if you’re the one in need of a bath. Your smile doesn’t falter as you drop onto the bed before gently laying down to let him settle beside you.

“It’s nice to be back doing something, you know?” You confide in him. “This charity work is doing wonders to soothe my soul.” Being a kitten, Adrien’s only response is to purr as he curls himself up as close as he can get to your neck.

High above your apartment, Homelander lets himself linger a moment longer. Charity work? Interesting. He watches still, taking in your smile as you cuddle that obnoxious ball of soot. He rolls his eyes, a huff escaping him before moving on.

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander writing #homelander #homelander x fem!reader #plus-sized reader #x you #The gif its 300% Homelander near the end of this scene #GEE I WONDER WHAT THAT NAME REF IS #I DUNNO WHY DOES HE KEEP CALLING HER HIS BUG #someone slap me if I make Homelander call her Buginette #I amuse myself #🍵 play with fire

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brucewaynehater101 · 4 months

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They are so big and so cute! And if Huggin and Munnin are well above the average size of ravens they could be nearly the size of Tim's torso. Certainly bigger than his head. Plus they are so, so smart. Some of the smartest birds in the world. Imagine Tim getting in kidnapped as a civilian and Huggin simply grabs the key for him while Munnin acts as a look out. Tim escapes without ever being seen.

Tim also has special "bird doors" in his Nest so the whole place is filled with his many birds. Sure not all of them live there because he set up dozens of safe places around the city that are basically just Reall Big Pigeon Roosts with bird feeders in them that all types of birds are allowed in. Also the bird doors are much to small for any human to fit through, much like dog and cat doors are, and they do have actual sliding metal doors on them that are opened and unlocked by proximity of the little cameras he put on some of his birds. Roughly 4 owls, 8 pigeons, 3 Bluejays, 2 hawks, 17 crows, 9 grackles, and 20 ravens have access to his Nest. Are those a lot of keys just flying around the city? Yes. But no one knows the birds are his, Tim is constantly trying to make smaller and smaller cameras for them so that they will never be spotted, and who the fuck is gunna point to a random bird and go "that bitch has the key to Red Robin's house." And be believed by anyone who would help them catch a fucking pigeon that's just minding their own buisness?business??

The only beings who notice the cameras are other birds and the strange sparkly spot on his birds chest? It only gives his birds more Rizz. There was a study about how Zebra Finches actually preferred to mate with those who had on red tracking tags over other colors so what if this is similar? This would also mean that every spring Tim has an exponentially larger amount of birds.

Also the funniest way for the family to find out. It's one of the very rare sunny days in summer where it's Actually Hot in Gothem so the family decides it's the perfect day to use the pool in the back yard of Wayne Manor. Everyone is having an amazing time and eventually Tim gets tired so he sits down on one of the reclining pool chairs for a rest and snack, which is his chocolate free trail mix. He has a large bowl of it and ends up falling asleep with it in his lap. Just as the siblings are giggling and deciding what prank to play, a crow lands next to Tim and sqwacks a few times. Tim mumbles in his sleep but doesn't move so the bird hops up onto Tim's chair and starts to eat out of his bowl. Since it doesn't get shooed away, soon others are joining it. The family watches in amazement as Tim gets *covered* in birds that are casually eating from his bowl. There's even a pair of hawks that are perched above his head. When the bowl is empty, one of the crows bites Tim on the nose, startling him awake and he glares at the feathery fiend and very gently taps it on the beak as he scolds, "Monroe, I told you to stop biting my nose. Wait- you guys ate all my trail mix!" He has forgotten that his siblings are there because it's usually the birds or siblings, never both.

Oh, and when they eventually ask why he hid the birds, Tim simply says, "last time anyone found out, Janet called an exterminator."

I love this so much. Him building little nests all over the city for them is adorable and great. It would be cool if he started that before his Robin years as he was out and about in Gotham. He just built small little safe places for the birds, and it rapidly expanded as Tim got more experience, more resources, and more birds to look after.

Your logic with the keys is fantastic! When the batfam finds out, I bet birds pop by Tim's place while whatever family member is just chilling. Like maybe they are watching a movie and said bat gets distracted by the coming and goings of various birds (the birds probably also mess a bit with Tim or his space as fond pestering before leaving again). Maybe a few are just staring at the family member without blinking or taking a nap.

I wonder if Damian would start to make excuses to go over to Tim's Nest as much as possible. He states he needs to "ensure Timothy is maintaining adequate nesting conditions for the various species of birds" or that he will "test the Nest's security" by dropping by unannounced and breaking in.

Perhaps some of the birds watch over his various family members for Tim? Especially Duke because nobody else works the day shift with him, and birds are more common during the day (and thus less suspicious).

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au #damian wayne

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ancha-aus · 24 days

Text

RealAgeAU Drabble - Christmas Celebration

So. When I started typing this. The poll had said that Fluff was wanted with a small lead. The whole time while typing it it was even (seriously how did you do that?!) and as soon as i finish suddenly Lore won?

No. You guys are getting fluff now >:D

First Drabble (original prompt by @spotaus ) Prev Drabble Next Drabble

(also for those curious this ended up being 3700 words so strap in and get ready)

*----------------------*

Nightmare wakes up early. Very early.

He isn’t that surprised. Not really. How can he really be?

Nightmare takes a moment to check how he is captured this time. Seems like Killer is completely wrapped around him and Horror holding both him and Killer. Dust and Cross are on his other side.

Mmmh… A bit more complex.

Probably his own fault for sneaking out of bed and the nest as often as he does. Still. He isn’t about to be discouraged about it.

Some wiggling and scooting and a lot of patience later and he is next to the bed.

Hah. Nightmare pats himself down before walking towards the chair holding their clothes.

It is still a bit weird but also nice to be spending a few nights at Crop’s and Straw’s. The two brothers had invited all of them to spend Christmas with them. Christmas here being all about family and spending time with them.

Horror had obviously wanted to go but he hadn’t immediately said yes. Said they would talk about it first. Which Nightmare gets. Dust still has issues with seeing anyone who resembles his own brother.

But as soon as Horror had told them about the invite Dust must have also seen how badly Horror wanted to spend more time with his best friend. Meaning he had said it would only be fair to say yes and spend time with them.

Killer had quickly agreed and Cross had seemed curious about the whole holiday as well.

Which leads them to here.

Nightmare finishes putting on his extra socks and his bat hoody. He puts on a beanie over his skull. He still is sensitive to the cold and he had to promise all of them that he would make sure he was dressed warm if he exited to nest.

Now fully dressed he slowly sneaks downstairs. It is still dark out but he doesn’t mind too much. A glance at the clock confirms it is nearing the normal time that Horror and Cross get up. Thought with the longer nights and the cold neither are as quick to wake up unless they turn on their own alarms.

Nightmare gets downstairs and spots Straw and Crop both getting ready to go outside. Nightmare takes a seat on the stairs and tilts his skull at them “Where are you going?”

Both of them jump and turn quickly. Straw sighs but grins “Wowie. You are a very sneaky babybones.”

Nightmare shrugs as he waits for his answer.

Crop chuckles “We are going to check the animals. Make sure they made it through the night and got enough things to drink and eat for the day.” He looks considerate at Straw and Straw nods with a large grin and a begging look.

Crop laughs but looks at Nightmare “Want to come along? Or do you think your dads will kill me if you come with?”

Embarrassed and Nightmare shrugs “I mean… if we leave a note I think they will not panic?” he isn’t sure what to even call them at this point. Not after everything. He tries not to think about it too much.

Straw looks so excited “Do you want to come? You can pet Betty again. And maybe pet some of the chickens?” as Straw speaks Crop is looking through the jackets and snowboots to find Nightmare’s set.

Nightmare ends up nodding and walking over. Straw quickly goes to grab some paper and a pen to leave the note as Crop hands over the outdoor wear. He dresses himself and waves off the help offered by Crop. It is just… he is fine dressing himself… mostly… He just lets the gang do it and help him because it makes it faster and they are.. well them!

Tying his shoes takes longer but works alright in the end. Even if the loops are a little… loose looking and not as tied when Cross does it for him.

Even so he pulls his hood up tightly over his beanie covered skull and gets ready for the cold.

Crop opens the door and Nightmare shivers a bit as the cold air penetrates through his jacket a bit. Not as bad as before but that is because of all the extra layers he is wearing.

Straw suddenly looks a bit unsure “You okay? Maybe this isn’t a good idea after all…” he shoots Crop a nervous look.

Crop looks at him “You still want to come?”

Nightmare huffs and nods trying to appear certain and determined. It is only after Crop starts to smile and Straw coos slightly that Nightmare remembers he is still wearing his frog beanie and his bat hoody. Sure there is a jacket over that but it is still not the most serious look.

He carefully walks through the snow and pauses to test a few steps. His spine had been starting to feel a bit better but he best not irate it by falling over and hurting himself.

It is a slow journey but they get to the chicken coop and Crop unlocks the little latch to let them into the area. Straw quickly grabs the stored food and easily jumps over the little fence to join their side.

Crop grins and opens the coop and must see the confusion on Nightmare’s face. Crop chuckles “They aren’t the biggest fans of the cold.”

Nightmare huffs and nods in slight agreement. He gets that. He isn’t either.

Crop chuckles but continues “But. It is good for them to get some fresh air and move around a bit. It is why I like opening the hatch at least for the morning feeding.”

Straw joins his side by crouching down and opening the bag with seeds and some wheats “We can throw this out a bit for them. Encourage them to come outside before filling up the reserves inside the coop.” Straw grabs a hand and shows how he spreads it around.

Nightmare looks at his own mitten covered hand but grabs a tiny hand before spreading it out around the coop.

Some soft clucks and some chickens slowly waddle out. Looking very suspicious of the snow but clearly wanting the food. They slowly get nearer.

Straw grins and holds some food out for the chickens in his hands. Letting the chickens get closer and once they are close slowly letting it fall to the ground. The chicken starts to eat and Straw pets it. Straw grins at him “See? Easy does it. The girls are all very nice!”

Nightmare frowns but slowly grabs a small hand himself as he holds it out. One of the birds looks at the food he is offering and slowly walks over. Giving soft clucks along the way. Nightmare drops the food when she is close. The chicken pauses before starting to peck away at it. Nightmare inches a few tiny steps closer and pets the chicken. He obviously can’t feel the feathers through his gloves but the idea is nice.

Huh. He… just realised this is actually the first time he is near the animals on his own two legs. The first time he stayed here he remained inside the whole time. His back still too weak to even sit alone for a long time much less stand on his own. The only times he was near any of the animals it was when Dust held him and only near Betty once or twice.

So much had changed.

Crop pops out of the coop and dusts himself off “That is their feeds being filled again. Lets go to Betty next.”

Nightmare frowns as he looks at the coop “Don’t they need to be inside first?”

Straw nods “When we lock it certainly! But they need a moment for themselves outside and will soon realise there is also food inside. Then they will go back in themselves!”

Crop nods and gently nudges some of the chickens away from the fence as he unlocks the hatch again “Ready for the barn?”

Nightmare nods and walks towards the small gate after making sure his gloves are empty of any chicken food.

They leave the little chicken area and move towards the barn.

The inside of the barn is warmer and Nightmare watches as both Crop and Straw remove their scarfs and their gloves. Nightmare keeps his on, thank you very much, it is still cold even if it is a bit less cold.

Crop leads the way and they find the cow relaxing in one of the pen things inside the barn.

Crop pets the cow “Hey there girl. How are you today?” Betty moos and pushes into the affection.

Nightmare is a bit unsure… the cow looks so much… bigger now… He kinda gets why Cross is afraid of them now… it is big and strong and can probably easily break one of his bones… probably more bones at once… he isn’t the strongest of sturdiest anymore and-

“You remember Nightmare right?” Crop sounds gentle as he speaks to Betty. The cow flaps one of her ears and looks around a bit. Spotting Nightmare hiding partly behind the wooden wall of the pen. Oh no.

Crop looks over and smiles “Ready to pet her again?”

Nightmare feels a bit more unsure and shrugs “I dunno…” how to get out of this?

Straw gives him a gentle nudge forwards “It will be nice!”

Nightmare isn’t so sure but slowly walks closer. Animals either love or hate him. There is no in between… Sure Betty seemed okay before but that was with Dust near and Dust you don’t mess with.

Still he slowly gets closer and reaches an arm and hand out. it shakes slightly.

Crop speaks softly “Hey… no need to be nervous… she is very nice and gentle and there is no real wrong way of petting her.”

Hah! Sure. Nervous!

His mitten covered hand reaches the cow’s head and he slowly gives it a pet. One. Two. Three. He pulls his hand back and takes a few steps back. There. He did it. Full marks.

Crop frowns at him while straw grins “see? All good! And look! She still remembers you and liked your petting!” he nudges him again.

Crop gives his brother a smile “I think that is enough. I think I best get him back inside before the wind picks up or it starts snowing. You mind finishing up?”

Straw frowns but looks outside at the dark clouds in the sky “That is for the best. Snow is probably about to happen very soon.”

Crop thanks his brother and he and Nightmare start to leave the barn. Crop frowns at him “Why didn’t you say you didn’t want to pet her?”

Damnit. Not the best at acting still. Nightmare shrugs “it wasn’t big of a deal…” it is more of a mumble than anything. How does he explain that at first he had liked the idea but then seeing the cow from ground level and having to look up at it made him nervous?

They exit the barn and are two steps further when they hear the shout “Nightmare!”.

Crop and him look up to see Cross sprinting at them. He gets to their side and picks Nightmare up as he shoots the barn a nervous look before focussing on him “Are you okay? cold? Hurt? sore? Tired?” he checks his temperature and relaxes “you good… you are fine…”.

Crop smiles as he crosses his arms “We know what to watch out for.”

Cross looks away embarrassed but doesn’t let Nightmare go out of his hug “I know! I mean we know that. It is just… I woke up and well… he wasn’t there… and I saw the note and I just…” he keeps holding him close.

Crop nods “Fair enough. We were just on our way back. But if you could take him back I can stop by the chickens to check if they are in the coop again.”

Cross is already a few steps towards the house before Crop finishes speaking “Yes. I got Nightmare you good luck with your chores!” and he quickly goes back to the house.

Nightmare frowns up at Cross. Weird… Cross normally didn’t even want to walk into the direction of the barn as he knew Betty was there… yet he came running for him…

Nightmare feels warm and safe and confused as he just leans more into Cross’s hold. Sure he knew they were safe but… this is different… it feels more. He only really started to notice it lately just how… how at home it feels. To be with them. Near them.

They get back inside and Nightmare spots Horror immediately. Horror frowns at them and Cross looks away shyly “I euh… got him already and-”

Horror just shakes his skull and looks pointedly at Cross “The note said both Crop and Straw were with him.” he gives him a long look “No reason to run out without a jacket.”

Nightmare blinks and turns only to now notice that Cross isn’t wearing anything over his pjs. Nightmare blinks and looks disapproving at Cross “You could get sick.”

Cross looks slightly panicked between them “I just! I panicked!” and Nightmare feels Cross pull him even closer.

Horror sighs but looks unsurprised. He takes a few steps over and Nightmare feels Horror take him from Cross. Horror easily holds him with one arm before pushing Cross towards the bathroom “Go warm up. I will get you clothes after I got Nightmare out of his outdoor clothes.”

Cross looks ready to object but after taking a look to at Horror and him he relaxes and easily agrees. He disappears into the bathroom.

Nightmare frowns as Horror and him sit down and Horror helps him easily out of his jacket and snowboots. Nightmare looks at the bathroom door before looking back at Horror “Why did he run out? Was the note not okay?” he thought with a note it would be fine. A note was normally all any of the guys needed to leave for each other.

Horror snorts a she shakes his skull “The note was very clear. I think it was just the fact it wasn’t any of us with you that made him nervous.” Horror makes sure his beanie is on right before putting the stuff for outside back by the front door “which is something Cross himself has to work on. Trusting others outside of our tight circle.”

Nightmare nods. It isn’t that surprising. After all the betrayal Cross has had to deal with.

Horror does shoot Nightmare a knowing look “But I think it was very brave of him. He ran towards the barn right?” Nightmare nods and Horror grins “very brave seeing as he considers that Betty’s territory.”

Nightmare feels that same warm and safe feeling again as he crosses his arms. Almost as if he is trying to hide the feeling as he mutters “I thought the same…”

Horror rubs his skull and Nightmare feels himself relax “Don’t worry about it okay? he is fine.” Then more thoughtful “Well… unless I get him clean clothes. Give me a moment.” And he disappears upstairs.

Nightmare still feels warm and cozy and safe and… well…

Loved.

Nightmare sits on the counter as he watches Horror, Straw and Crop work on dinner together. It is a whole thing and they had been at work since just after lunch. Straw is working on this giant turkey while Crop works on the side dishes. Horror is in charge of the desert and Nightmare just watches them work together.

It is nice. Even if he isn’t allowed to help.

Cross, Killer and Dust are moving stuff around in the living room. Setting up the table and games or something.

Straw checks the turkey again before nodding and moving towards the counter to work on this mutter mixture he had been dripping over the bird every so often “I still can’t believe none of you have ever celebrated Christmas!”

Yeah that is another thing that Nightmare just doesn’t know what it is exactly.

Horror snorts as he works on the frosting “Told you. Most of us only celebrated Gyftmas underground. And that was all about presents more than anything.”

Nightmare swings his legs as he gives his own answer “My universe just… didn’t have it.” hard to have winter holiday without winter “just had harvest celebrations and stuff like that.” And the only one who ever got gifts was Dream anyway. So a party? To focus on celebrating family? It sounds real nice.

Straw looks deeply troubled by this “A child never having had the chance to experience the joy of Christmas? Ah. The multiverse is a rough and cruel place and fate is beyond unfair.”

Horror snorts and nods “Very true.”

Crop frowns “We aren’t big on presents with Christmas in this universe… if we had known…”

Horror shakes his skull “No worries. None of us celebrated it in a long time and it has… rough memories for all of us. This is nice. A new tradition.” Horror looks at what he made and holds a tiny spoon up to Nightmare “What do you think? Tasty enough?”

Nightmare gives Horror an unimpressed look “Everything you make is tasty.” But he isn’t going to pass up a chance for an early taste and happily tastes it. As expected. Delicious. He hums happily and nods “Very tasty.”

Horror chuckles and puts the frosting in the fridge before moving on to the next part of the cake.

Nightmare is eventually removed from the kitchen to wait with the others in the warm fireplace lit living room. Something about making sure he is safe as the kitchen is about to be hectic. Which is just nice words for him having to stay out of the way.

Killer pokes his cheek and grins “such a grumpy baby.”

Nightmare pouts and crosses his arms “I could have helped…” somehow…

Killer grins “Of course. Just not in the chaos and hectic energy of preparing a bit feast. The timing is everything and can get stressful.”

Nightmare gets it but still…

Killer grins “If it makes you feel any better. Us three were banned from the very beginning. You were at least allowed to stay in the kitchen with them for most of the prep.”

Cross looks insulted but Dust just shakes his skull at him.

Killer grins “What? We all know it is the truth.” And he winks at Nightmare.

Huh… that does make him feel a bit better.

A bit later the three cooks bring out the food and they sit at the table.

You would think that seven at the table would get complex but they manage. Nightmare is pretty sure they made the seating arrangement with Dust’s situation in mind.

Seeing as Horror is sitting between Dust and Straw. Making it almost impossible for Dust to see the other Papyrus. And with Straw speaking in another accent the voice is not familiar enough to trigger him.

Killer sits at the table head, next to Dust. And Nightmare sits on his other side with Cross on his own other side. Crop sits across from his brother next to Cross. The other head end of the table is against the wall.

It is nice. Straw proudly cuts his turkey as Horror easily moves the dishes around the table to whoever has an interest.

It is all delicious and smells so nice. Everyone is relaxed and laughing and just enjoying themselves.

Everyone it so happy.

After the main course Cross helps with putting the food away as Horror puts the last few finishing touches to his cake which he brings out. It is vanilla with delicious banana frosting with tiny chocolates. It is so good and everyone agrees.

Nightmare is honestly feeling sleepy already by the time it is time to play some games and relax by the fireplace. Nightmare is on the same team as Dust and leans heavily against him as they start a game of catan.

Nightmare feels himself fall asleep before everyone even had their first turn.

He just hears them talk as he dozes against Dust’s side. He feels himself be moved and he makes sure to make his displeasure known. Dust just mumbles a soft reassurance to him that he can stay asleep. He leans against the other and hears Dust’s soulbeat against the side of his skull.

It is calm and soft and Nightmare feels his whole being relax more and more. His own soul slowing and calming down as well.

The feeling is familiar at this point. He gets it a lot when he is being held by any of them. But it is so much clearer and so much stronger when he feels sleepy.

Like another hug. Relaxing him more and more and pulling him towards sleep.

He isn’t sure how long he stays just like that. In Dust’s lap and arms. Happily half asleep as he listens to the others. Sometimes sleeping fully for short periods of time.

Nightmare is pulled from his sleep as Dust gets up. He blinks open his sockets and looks around confused, why are they moving?

Dust nuzzles his skull and mutters softly against his skull “we are just going to bed.”

Nightmare hums and pushes closer to Dust again. Following the soft reassurance send to him form the adult soul so close. Calling out to his very being that it is okay to sleep and rest.

He notices that someone is helping him into his pjs and helps him brush his teeth. Nightmare can still hear movement downstairs as the others no doubt clean up everything.

Nightmare is laid down in bed and he immediately pushes his skull deeper into the pillow.

A soft chuckle “Comfy tiny boss?”

Oh. Killer is with him now?

Nightmare just hums. A weight joins him and a blanket is pulled over him. Two arms pull him close and another adult soul is near. Different then Dust’s. Much louder. So it really is Killer. The message remains the same though. It is safe. I got you. You can rest.

Just… He knows that is the message.

Killer hums and whispers to him “That is it baby. Just sleep.”

Nightmare pushes closer to the other and willingly succumbs to sleep. *----------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

#utmv #realageau #nightmare sans #deaged nightmare #dust sans #killer sans #cross sans #horror sans #farm sans #farm papyrus #The fluff drabble!! :D It is here! Sweet isn't it :3 #Can we all be very proud of cross who went straight towards the source of his phobia to help protect the baby?#because he was afraid the cow might hurt the baby?#Like. can we all be proud of cross for that?#Horror already is proud of him but i need all of us to be proud of him too #phobias are terrible things to have to deal with and sure cows may seem silly but fear isn't about being rational #did i want to say something else?#Not really.#Just going to fix my links and work on that sweet sweet sweet lore. don't mind me.

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mrs-elsie-barnes · 8 months

Text

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 13

Glorious Magnificent Goddess | Loki x Reader

You and Loki retreat to his hideaway to recouperate after your run in with Lugh. Loki helps you practice your magic again as well as rewarding you for your bravery. But how far can you really escape a God?

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, lots of praise, possessive Loki, making out, teasing, oral ( f receiving), p in v, cockwarming (if you squint), dirty talk but also…angst, emotional hurt/comfort.

A/N: This is mostly smut but there's definitely some plot there too. Please don't judge me for my terrible prophecy writing.

Also this chapter wouldn't have been written with nearly so much smut in it if I hadn't been so sexually frustrated reading @lokisgoodgirl 's The Lakes series. There's no little Tesco here and we're far from The Lakes but this chapter is dedicated to you :)

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

—

Somewhere between your sheer terror of being kidnapped and Loki’s sweeping rescue of you from the floor, you’d passed out. When you woke you were lying on a sofa in front of a roaring fire, the logs crackling merrily in time with the soft low hum of Loki’s voice.

You turned your head to see him moving deftly around a small kitchen, pouring steaming soup into a bowl while he sang quietly. At first you didn’t recognise the words, but the more you listened and allowed the song to wash over you, the more you understood. He sang of home, of love and comfort, songs that spoke to the very bones of you until you melted into the cushions and blankets, at peace. Somewhere deep down your memories hummed back, even if you couldn’t remember the words yet.

He turned, still singing the last of the tune, and smiled gently. In the firelight he looked shockingly ethereal compared to his domestic surroundings, his hair glossy and dark, tumbling about his shoulders in almost cherubic curls. The shirt he’d worn under his suit was now only loosely tucked into his trousers, the collar undone and his sleeves rolled up just past his elbows.

“You’re awake,” he knelt next to you, cupping your face in his hands and drawing you close, kissing you so tenderly you thought you might still be asleep, dreaming of being awoken by Prince Charming.

“Was I dreaming? We went on that stupid mission and it was awful -” you scrunched your face the memory. “Do you think it’s always that chaotic?”

“It wasn’t a dream, Darling, unfortunately. We were intercepted by someone.”

It came rushing back, the man’s hands grabbing at you, the blinding light he seemed to be able to control and the spear he wielded. But then, you’d had a spear too, and armour, silver and velvet and flame. You looked down at your clothes, the armour was gone and in its place was one of Loki’s soft cotton shirts.

“I knew him, I think. I saw a memory with him in, and my mother, they were friends. He said his name was Lugh and we were in his home, it was snowing - But I was younger then. And I saw one of the men who - who -”

Loki placed a steadying hand on your arm, remaining by your side, his eyes darting over your face and searching for any trace of pain or suffering. “Hush, darling, let’s not talk of it now. You’ve had a trying time, rest and we can talk of it in the morning.

“But I’ve seen him before, Loki, I have and-” You sighed, falling back on the sofa. “I wish I could just remember.”

Loki kissed your cheek and moved back to the kitchen, “well, this Lugh, he frightened you and I will not tolerate that. Here, I made you soup, you should eat and get some strength back.” He placed the tray on an oak coffee table and piled cushions onto the floor for you to sit on.

Sliding down onto the nest of pillows, you allowed yourself to look around the room, it was small but cosy, furnished with solid oak and thick, luxurious fabrics in velvet, knits and heavy wool plaid. Large cushions backed the sofa and chairs while the walls were lined with books old and new.

“Where are we?” You asked, blowing on the warm soup before taking a small sip from your spoon.

“A secret place, a cabin. We’re still in America, if that’s what you were wondering. Those ridiculous spangled idiots showed up and blew our cover so I needed to retreat quickly. I can teleport, but not very far, and this was the nearest place I could drive to after we were far enough away.” Loki said, matter of factly, before joining you on the floor and dunking a thick crust of bread into your soup.

“Hey, that’s mine,” you reached a foot out to kick him gently and he laughed, pulling it into his lap.

“Share, Ásynja , don’t be selfish,” he smiled, dipping again but offering you the bread between his fingers.

“I didn’t know you lived anywhere else.” You’d always imagined that when he wasn’t at the compound Loki retreated to some icy fortress covered in black and green furnishings. Something dramatic and luxurious, you certainly hadn’t imagined a cosy log cabin.

“I like to have a few retreats, a few bolt holes here and there. Plus Brunnhilde uses them from time to time when she’s on official business, hotels aren’t really her style, she prefers to deplete my stores of whisky and mead.” Loki didn’t look upset though, he seemed pleased to be able to offer somewhere comfortable and inviting.

“I would’ve thought showing off in the lap of luxury would be right up your street.” You teased, Loki liked the finer things in life and there was no way you were complaining when he extended such luxuries to you too. But there was something so satisfying about teasing the god of Mischief.

“Oh, yes, it is,” his smile morphed from playful into predatory, his voice dropping an octave into that rough rumble that made you melt, “but it’s the privacy we enjoy. We’re in the middle of nowhere, my Darling-”

“And no one can hear me scream?” You joked, raising your eyebrows.

“Exactly.” He tugged on your leg again, before reaching forwards and pulling you into his lap. Beneath the wool slacks he was already hard, the firm length of him straining against the zip. His shirt was loose on you, rucked up around your waist to accommodate your spread legs and you were mercifully bare beneath.

“Loki,” you breathed, pressing yourself down into his embrace, moulding your bodies together. Between your thighs he throbbed, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body, reigniting your adrenaline.

Loki’s large hands slid up your back, one splayed wide cupping your waist, the other on the back of your neck, tipping your head down so he could growl against your lips, “I love when you say my name,” he nipped at your bottom lip and you kissed back, sucking his tongue into your mouth like you were ravenous. “My Ásynja , take what you need my darling, I am yours, at your mercy, my breathtaking Goddess.”

Together you fell backwards onto the rug, Loki breaking your fall and gently laying you down beside him. His hands ghosted down your side, barely touching you while his magic melted your clothes away leaving you both glowing in the firelight.

“You were magnificent tonight, a true goddess of the Aesir, I -” His hands fluttered over you, his eyes trying to take you all in at once.

You had never seen Loki lost for words before and it was a glorious feeling, knowing that you had reduced him to this.

“I have to have you, darling, can’t keep my hands from you.” He growled, touching every inch of your bared skin.

“I couldn’t have done it without you though, Loki.” You assured him, kissing along his broad shoulders, inhaling the rich scent of him, so close.

“Ah, my darling one, I did nothing.” He closed his eyes, luxuriating in the feel of you, each kiss like a butterfly's wings brushing against his skin.

“Wait-” You sat up, “you didn’t do anything?”

“No, did you think I had some part to play?” He looked at you quizzically, “you think I conjured a burning spear? Silver armour?”

“Well - I -” He curled an eyebrow at you, encouraging you to complete your thought. “I did that? That was me?”

“Of course” he laughed out the words, surprised that you weren’t already aware.

“Well. Okay.” You lay back on the rug and stared at the ceiling, unabashed in your nakedness, and Loki fought the urge to simply climb on top of you.

“Hmmm, indeed.” Instead he traced his finger over your sternum and between your breasts, down to your belly button and then over your hip. Tingling goosebumps erupted in his wake and you watched as he skipped from your hip to where the bracelet he gave you still circled your wrist. “Besides, if I had created armour for you, it would be in green and gold.” He murmured, bending to place a kiss on the delicate skin below the bracelet.

“Would it now, have you thought of how you’d dress me for battle?” Now it was your turn to lift an eyebrow at him. “Why don’t you show me how you’d prepare me for battle.”

Loki gave you a predator’s smile before pulling you closer. “Too many clothes required for battle, darling, how about we practise the celebration instead?”

As you drifted in and out of sleep the memory of Loki’s hands on you followed your sleeping thoughts, his hands spread wide on your thighs, squeezing and kneading while he feasted on you, his body supplicant before you, worshipping as he’d promised. You writhed, rolling closer to him and hooking your leg over his. There was still a deep ache within you, a roiling of your magic needing release and bubbling to the surface in your whimpers and bucking hips.

Loki stirred beside you and pulled you closer, your naked body was bed warm and soft compared to his perpetually cooler constitution and it felt good to be thawed by your presence. He cupped your cheek, turning your sleeping face so he could look over your features. There was still a tendency for your eye colour to shift without you realising, but everything else had settled and now every time he looked at you the same beautiful face shone back.

He kissed you on your forehead, revelling in the gentle smile that spread across your lips, he kissed your cheek and nose, moving across your face until your eyelashes fluttered and you snuggled closer, fingers digging into his sides. Slowly, so slowly, he moved down your neck, pressing kisses onto your collarbone and nuzzling into the swell of your breast, he laved wet kisses onto your nipples, blowing cold air over the sensitive flesh just to watch them pebble and tighten before him.

Loki’s kisses were featherlight, meltingly soft but you needed more, craved more. Light flared within you and, behind the grate, the fire crackled in response, burning blue and filling the room with light.

He lifted his head watching you with lust blown eyes.

“Incredible, my darling goddess, do it again,” he encouraged, kissing lower until he could nip at your soft belly, his thumbs pressing into your hips to stop you from lifting upwards. “Do it again and I’ll give you anything you want, name your price.”

“I can’t,” you whined, giving up on struggling in favour of looping your leg over his muscular shoulder.

“You can,” he traced his nose lower, lower, the point of his tongue guiding him until he hovered over your aching core. “You can do it, Ásynja , you are powerful and strong, you control the fire, you control the light, show me, make me tremble before you.” His words were a whisper, a prayer, his eyes locked with yours despite the lewd poke of his tongue from between his pink lips.

Frustrated you dropped your head back onto the rug and the fire roared again, the candles dotted around the room flickered. Between your legs Loki smiled again, murmuring something in the same old norse language that you were still trying to remember. But it was hard to care what he was saying when he was teasing you so deliciously, his tongue writing every sinful thing he wanted to do.

“Please, Loki.” You hummed, tugging on the long strands of his silky hair in an effort to move him.

“A moment more, my darling one.” He cooed, sucking on the inside of your thigh while his fingers entered you slowly, curling into your fluttering walls.

“You promised me anything,” you gasped, heat pooling between your legs, Loki marvelled as your arousal slicked down his fingers.

“I did, and what does my most wonderful Goddess require of me?” He asked, his voice hoarse with lust.

“Fuck me, Loki- ugh,” he felt you clench around him, so soft yet so strong, and he knew he needed to have you just as much. “Fuck me like you mean it, I’m your Goddess, yours, take me, worship me, and make me yours.” You reached down and squeezed his hard cock as you spoke, watching his mouth fall open at the pressure.

With a growl, Loki prowled up your prone body, hooking your leg around his waist as he settled over you. All you could see was the curtain of his hair, the sharp lines of his face and his glittering eyes. The swell of his cock between your legs was hot and heavy, a tease of what was to come. It felt like it had been so long since you were alone together that you were desperate, clawing, inching your hips up until he was notched at your entrance, waiting.

“Please,” you begged, breathlessly and he slid home in a single thrust, filling you to the brim and binding you together. “Oh! Loki!”

“Yes, that’s it my darling,” he began to thrust, rolling his hips to rub against your clit with every movement. “Say my name.”

“Loki, Loki, Loki.” His name became a chant in time with each thrust. “I’m yours, oh my god, never let me go.” You buried your face in his neck, sucking a bruise into the delicate skin as he ground against you, locked together so tightly he could barely pull back before you were bringing him closer again.

“Never, I’ll never let you go, you’re mine now. All mine,” he panted, the feel of your lips and teeth a blissful pain, “and I’m yours, all yours.” The flames roared, their reflection catching in the glass of the lamps artfully dotted around the room, painting the walls in jewelled colours, emerald, sapphire and ruby red.

He sat back, pulling you into his lap so he could kiss your chest and hold you closer. You moved together, riding towards your release as if you were charging into battle, never close enough, never fast enough, chasing your pleasure while Loki looked at you in awe.

With a final roar he buried himself inside of you and the banked fire of your desire burst forth consuming you both. In the fireplace the flames licked out onto the hearth, the candles flared and blue flames encircled you both.

Loki pulled away, his eyes tracing over your face as he always did, checking that you were happy and safe and smiling giddily as he was. And then he saw the flames, swirling like ribbons in the wind.

Guiltily you tried to pull away, but he held you firm, still deep inside of you and as he caught your gaze again you felt him throb against your sensitive walls, “magnificent,” he murmured, before tipping you back against the carpet and continuing his worship.

The morning came too soon, the mist that danced between the trees faded as it got closer to the cabin windows and you let out a puff of hot air against the pane. You set your cup of coffee on the side and drew a heart in the condensation, smiling as it turned green and gold as the rising sun beyond touched the tops of the pine trees in the valley.

On silent feet, Loki crept up on you, circling his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder where your shirt slipped away from your collar. Here he planted a wet kiss, squeezing you tighter when you giggled from the sensation. Between you both, you wondered if you’d ever have need to go clothes shopping again. With a flick of his wrist Loki had sent his suit into oblivion and had manifested a surprisingly sensible pair of dark jeans and a sweater. To his own surprise, try as he might, he couldn’t make it green and instead the fibres continued to insist on a rich, dark blue colour instead.

“Loki,” you chided, but you didn’t push him away, your body sought him at all times, reaching for his touch, so you allowed him to set his feet between yours and settled his hands on your hips.

“Darling, we should talk about what happened, now that we’ve had time to rest.”

Loki led you both out to a small covered porch at the back of the cabin, it’d been too dark to see your surroundings when you arrived but now you could see over through the trees to an open vista. A lake took up the majority of the valley, tailing away into a rushing river at its furthest point. Both sides of the valley were covered in dense trees, golden brown patches in the late autumn and dark green pines knitting together the amber canopy, the mist still rose from them while you settled into an old swing chair. The view was incredible, stealing your breath and your words as Loki settled beside you.

“It reminded me of Norway,” he said, casually, “and so I had to have it. Especially as things became so -” he waves his hand, “messy, in Asgard.”

“It’s beautiful, I could stay here forever.”

“As could I, darling, but we must address what happened. This isn’t the first time you’ve been attacked and I grow concerned it could happen again.” Loki was rarely so serious, even in the early days of your training he had been playful and coy, teasing your abilities from you.

You sat in silence, sipping your coffees while you thought of how to proceed.

“So, I suppose we start with the obvious, we know one of the players in this game now,” Loki said, decisively. “Lugh, it is not a pantheon I know well, though my father was always respectful and my mother knew various members. Though it is possible when my memories were taken, I forgot about other gods as well.”

“I suppose... I don’t know why he’d pretend to care now when he had me happily locked away like some fairytale princess.” You huffed.

“He mentioned your mother? That they were friends? With your mother gone, we could assume he is trying to act on her behalf, protect you as she would.I know my father often behaved in such a manner, keeping secrets when he ought to have told the truth, and then calling it protection, kindness.”

“Do you think - do you think he was the one who kept me locked up as well? Despite it all he didn’t seem like he wanted to be violent, I can’t understand how anyone working for him would be violent when he could have killed us both there and then. And then there’s the boy.”

Loki looked at you, his head tipped to the side. “The boy?” You had mentioned the boy earlier as well, but he had thought you were simply delirious.

“When he touched me, Lugh, I saw a memory of us together. My mother and I were at his house, he was kind and gentle. He encouraged me to go outside and play with a boy, it seemed like I was - happy?” You stared into the trees, hoping some clarity would emerge inside you to stop the churning feeling in your stomach.

“I learnt a lot from my father and one of the most important lessons he ever gave me, well, I don’t believe he intended to teach this as a lesson. But I learnt to never trust his mood. One minute he would love me and call me son, the next he would send me away for decades at a time. I would counsel against trusting Lugh, if he’s lived as long as Odin, the time has eaten away at what’s left of his sanity and I don’t doubt he would be kind to you in one moment and lock you up in the next.” Loki shrugged, melancholy at the memory of Odin, and then took a long drink from his mug.

You looked over to see a sad smile tugging at his lips, as if making fun of Odin was easier than the honesty of his statement.

“Perhaps - but, I recognised his eyes, the boy. I saw him again, he came for me. After I got away from those Asgardian’s, he tried to get me to go with him and I refused. He told me to stop using my magic, just as Lugh did, and then I was taken again by - hmmm.”

“If he warned you against the magic and then you were taken again, perhaps it was not Lugh who kidnapped you.” Loki raised his eyebrows and you nodded, silent and contemplative, already wondering the same. “Perhaps he really was trying to protect you?” Loki still hadn’t told you about the sigil he’d seen, about how he knew who your last captors were. How would he explain to you that your betrothed was out to find you? He had no memory of that war between the Aesir and the Vanir, how could he spoil what was growing between you with a fear like that.

“Perhaps. I just wish there was something in my past I could trust and believe in.”

He felt sick lying to you, even if it was by omission.. Loki had promised himself that he would protect you and he would, for now you needed comfort and peace more than you needed the truth.

You lapsed into silence, finishing your coffee and setting it onto the wooden porch floor. The quiet washed over you, the sound of the water and the rustling trees, even the calls of the birds felt perfectly placed to put you at ease.

After a while, Loki spoke again, quiet and low with that same serious voice that was so unfamiliar. “I still loved him, Odin, though he kept many things from me. Just because things are confusing now, doesn’t mean your happier times are forgotten. You used to speak of your Grandfather and now - well - there has been no mention of him for some time. You are allowed to miss him, and your life before this. It is no slight against me for you to have enjoyed happier times with others. I only wish for you to be happy again now.”

Emotion welled within you, “I do still think of him. I miss him so much, even if - I know, I know he wasn’t real. But he was real for me. He was kind.” You stuttered, reaching out for Loki’s hand to ground you.

“I’m glad.” Loki squeezed back, tangling your fingers together and he held you as you cried “ I think we should consider going back to Tønsberg , to show Brunnhilde what you saw. Perhaps she has some more answers, now that there has been time to think.”

“I thought we were supposed to rendevouz with the team again?” You sniffed, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “won’t they be looking for us when we didn’t meet to swap cars?”

“Well that’s what we were supposed to do, but they’ve got their item now, I thought we could enjoy some time together here and then, when you’re ready, I shall take you home.” Loki put his arm over your shoulders and held you against his side, the deep scent of amber still lingered on him, mixed with the crisp, clean, scent of pine. You tucked your feet up onto the seat, leaning your weight into his warm, strong body and allowed yourself a moment of peace to think of it, a home for you and Loki.

You hadn’t felt as safe and secure since you first left your flat, any time the God was in your presence you felt at peace, content with the world and your place in it. Loki was right, you needed some time together, and practising your fire skills was exactly the kind of cosy activity the glowing hillside and crisp air required.

You whiled away a few more hours, snuggled together in the early winter air, Loki created a small green fire that glowed in front of you while you practised sending blue sparks dancing around the edge.

Inside the cabin the fire smouldered, warm and inviting. Wood stacked by the fireplace shuddered and a single log rolled off onto the floor surrounded in white light.

Distracted outside neither you nor Loki watched the divine woodwork taking place inside as the log slowly became smaller and smaller, leaving chips of wood in it’s wake. Finally, after an hour of craftsmanship, the light faded and left behind a small wooden box. It grew hot, as it sat before the fire and opened, revealing a misty mirror inside, and a swatch of delicate lace wrapped around a glass sphere.

The lace unravelled, allowing the marble to roll away from its container, bumping against the back of the sofa and coming to a stop before the fire, heating up and then cracking, releasing the secret inside.

A soft voice escaped, “I saw a vision of a flock divided, a tup of pure chaos and a ewe of love, a ram standing watch, a singular lamb frolicking, a lamb with a fiery fleece. It has burnt the farm. But from the ashes rises lush land, strong crops and healthy babes. I have told this vision to my husband, and Lugh, he does not believe me when I say she is no threat, he believes this to be a prophecy of Ragnarok, he cannot see the verdant land beyond the fire. You must hide the girl, my friend, I can protect her no longer.”

Frigga’s voice, lost to the mortality that even the seemingly infinite possess, faded into the quiet of the cabin.

And outside your chatter continued obliviously, happy and full of love.

<< Part 12

Part 14>>

#Loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki/reader #Loki x Reader #Loki fanfic #Loki series #loki marvel #Loki x you #Loki/You #loki fanfiction #Loki smut #The Old Gods and the New

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jenanigans1207 · 5 months

Text

“What about angels?” Dean turns his gaze to Cas over the rim of his beer bottle.

“What about them?” Cas answers, his gaze unwavering as ever as it meets Dean’s steadily from his spot in the chair next to Dean.

“Do they have any, y’know?” Dean gestures vaguely in the air with the hand that isn’t holding his beer.

Cas sighs. “No, Dean, I don’t know.”

Dean suspects that isn’t actually true. Cas has been good at reading Dean like an open book and to filth equally and simultaneously practically since the moment they met and he has never had any qualms about stating Dean’s unspoken truths if he felt it was necessary, no matter how Dean felt about it. So he certainly would be able to follow the thought process Dean had followed to jump from their previous topic to this one. But sometimes Cas just liked to fuck with Dean, and other times he liked to force Dean to communicate clearly, despite them both being on the same page and knowing it.

“Mating rituals.” Dean supplies because it becomes clear that whether Cas knew what he meant or not, he wasn’t going to offer anything further to this conversation unless Dean started it.

“You’re asking about angel mating rituals?” Cas asks with enough surprise that Dean briefly thinks that maybe he really didn’t know.

“Well,” Dean shrugs and takes a long draw of his beer. “Yeah.”

Cas’s gaze turns curious as it pierces into Dean, and he looks like he would love to probe around in Dean’s head for some sort of explanation. “Angels don’t—“

“Wait!” Dean cuts him off before he gets a chance to answer. “I want to guess.” He swirls the remaining half of the beer around in his bottle while he thinks before snapping a finger and pointing it at Cas. “I bet you’re like peacocks! You fluff your feathers up all big and do some dorky dance.”

The look on Cas’s face is priceless— somewhere between shocked and incredulous and Dean wants to commit it to memory forever. “No, Dean.”

“Damn.” Dean mumbles, reclining in his seat. “What about a nest? Do you build nests for your mates? Not with like twigs and shit, obviously, but— I dunno, pillows or blankets or something?”

“I believe that’s called a pillow fort.” Cas supplies dryly.

“I’ll take that as a no, then.” Dean taps a finger along the edge of his beer bottle, the condensation cool against his fingertip. “Find a shiny rock and gift that to them? Or like, a pretty piece of glass or something?”

Cas’s expression has turned long-suffering. “Are you going to compare me to every feathered creature you know?”

“Yeah,” Dean doesn’t even try to hide his own self-satisfied amusement. “If you give me long enough.”

Dean tries to think of anything that he can actually picture Cas doing. Because yeah, Cas likes shiny rocks and pretty glass as much as anybody does just because they’re nice to look at, but he doesn’t seem overly affected by them. And yeah, when he naps, he’s been known to find the softest and coziest blanket to curl up with, but that’s just smart. Dean has never seen Cas’s wings, so that’s a fifty-fifty shot, he supposes, but he’s also never seen Cas dance and can’t even picture it in his head.

“Well, allow me to spare us a long— though very enlightening, I’m sure— conversation.” Cas’s glare is unimpressed but it slides right off Dean while barely even drawing his attention. “Angels don’t have mating rituals because angels don’t mate.”

That stops all of Dean’s thoughts short. He turns his gaze back to Cas, surprised to find that Cas has turned to stare absently at one of the bookshelves in the room.

“They don’t?” Dean asks after the silence stretches thin between them.

“No.” Cas answers. And though his response is firm, it’s not mean or cold. “Angels don’t know love, Dean. At least, not romantic love. The only sort of love an angel is meant to feel is the sort of holy love for our father and his creations. The idea of romance doesn’t exist in heaven or to angels at all. There’s no need for mating rituals when mating isn’t something that would ever occur to or appeal to an angel.”

Dean thinks about this for a long time, the rim of his beer bottle pressed against his lower lip but he doesn’t take a sip.

In general, Dean has no problem believing that angels don’t love. In general, angels are selfish dicks and he can’t imagine any of them caring about anything other than themselves. In general, angels would never put someone before themselves in a way that’s required for both platonic and romantic love. But in more specific terms—

Well there is one angel who wears a trench coat and a tie that matches his eyes. There’s an angel who fell from heaven for the love of humanity. There’s an angel who has bled for love, died for love, given up everything that love is supposed to mean to an angel and completely rewritten the definition. There is an angel that has spent the better part of a decade looking at Dean in a way that he doesn’t look at anyone else, making Dean’s toes curl in his boots with the intensity of it.

“But…” the gears are turning as Dean tries to refocus his gaze on Cas. Cas isn’t looking directly at him, but Dean knows that Cas is watching him in his periphery, gauging Dean’s reaction without looking like he’s putting a significant amount of weight into it. “That’s not true.”

“Dean, I am quite certain that I know more about angels than you do.” Cas remarks.

Dean doesn’t rise to the bite of the comment. “But you love.” He says instead.

“Of course, I love humanity and the Earth very much.” Cas answers reasonably.

“Yeah,” Dean says. “I know.” And then, “but I mean romantically.”

“Dean—“

“Don’t you?” Dean challenges.

Cas doesn’t answer the question directly. “I am not a very good angel.”

“You’re the only good one.” Dean replies quickly and easily, with every ounce of sincerity he has.

Because Cas is the only good Angel. Cas is the only one who gets it, who cares, who actually wants what’s best for the world.

Cas is also the only one who can make Dean’s stomach squirm the way it does whenever he’s at Dean’s side. He’s the only one who makes Dean feel safe, the only one Dean trusts. He’s the only one Dean would ever trust or picture a future with. He’s the only one who makes Dean’s fingertips tremble, his heart stumble, his throat dry.

Granted, he’s the only person who does any of that for Dean, Angel or not.

“You think too highly of me.” Cas says before sipping his own beer that he had been nursing for the majority of the conversation.

“You’re avoiding the question.” Dean hedges.

Because— yeah, okay, Dean isn’t stupid. He sees his own feelings reflected in Cas’s eyes when Cas looks at him. He understands what it means when Cas steps closer to him, or gives up an entire goddamn army for him. Dean can be slow on the uptake with emotional shit, but he’s not that slow. And it probably helps that he sees it so clearly because he feels it so clearly in his own heart.

He knows the yearning, the longing, the desire. He knows all the fantasies of the happy-ever-after, all the filthier fantasies that fill up the days in between. He knows what it’s like to want to cling to Cas, to desperately plead with him to never leave Dean’s side. He knows the agony of their separation as acutely as possible. He gets it.

And he also knows why this has never happened, why neither of them have ever crossed that line, even though they’ve never even dared to hint at its existence before. Because he knows that what they would have— that would be forever. It would be ruinous in the most beautiful way, burning down everything around them and blazing a path to eternity. And for so many goddamn years, forever and eternity were in danger. For so many years, a future of any goddamn length was in danger.

What would be the point of starting something meant to last forever when forever didn’t exist? It hurt like enough of a bitch every time Dean lost Cas and he didn’t know if that was the last time he’d ever see him. If he’d lost his forever then, too, instead of just his best friend— well, what the hell reason would he have had to keep fighting? It was self preservation in its barest form, the knowledge that they could only keep going if they kept apart. Because that would keep them fighting, keep them determined to reach the day where forever was finally secured and they could fall into each other without reservations.

And, well, Dean hadn’t killed Chuck, but he had taken the bastard off the board so forever was well and truly theirs if they wanted it.

And Dean wanted it.

He wanted it so bad he almost didn’t know how to have it.

Cas is staring back at Dean now, seeming to go through the same mental calculations that Dean is going through. Dean just hopes that Cas has any idea how to reach out and grab the one thing they both want.

Cas takes a breath, sets his beer down.

“Yes.” He answers simply. “I do.”

Dean swallows against a dry throat. “So?” He prompts. “What’s your big game plan? You get to make up any mating ritual you want.”

“You know,” Cas says offhandedly. “If I tell you my big ‘game plan’, as you call it, you will have to give me feedback on it. How else am I meant to know if it would work?”

Dean licks his bottom lip. “I’m being trusted to approve the first ever angel mating ritual?” He aims for lighthearted, even though he can feel his pulse in his fingertips. “Lay it on me.”

“Well,” Cas doesn’t sound as nervous as Dean feels, even though he knows that he doesn’t really have any reason to feel that way. “I was thinking that I would start with the classic spark— maybe have multiple, raining down.”

Dean chokes on half of a disbelieving laugh.

“Then I would spend about, oh, over a decade at his side, always coming when he called and leaving when he got sick of me. I would try very, very hard to navigate his boundaries and I would be unsuccessful.” Cas’s smile is wry. “I would betray him a time or two.”

“Keep him guessing.” Dean says, the smile clear in his voice.

“Exactly.” Cas is smiling more genuinely now. “I would probably die for him a few times, too. Maybe even accidentally start a family with him.”

Dean has set his own beer down now. “You gotta add in some, like, intense eye contact, or something.”

“And no personal space.” Cas agrees with a nod.

Dean laughs outright now, the nerves draining completely from his body. He had no idea the conversation would steer this way when he had asked what he assumed was an innocent enough question, but he’s glad that it did. Because if he’d had time to prepare for this conversation, time to anticipate it, he knows that he would’ve chickened out. Just like he has so many times in the past.

When his laughter dies down, Cas says “well?”

“What can I say, man?” Dean leans onto the armrest of his chair, putting himself closer to Cas. “It would work on me.”

“Oh, would it?” Cas asks as he, too, leans into the barely there space that’s separating them.

“Hell yeah.” Dean murmurs, reaching across to wrap a hand around Cas’s tie. “Would have me all weak-kneed and giggling.”

Cas starts to say something back but Dean honestly doesn’t give a shit what, so he tugs on the tie and draws Cas to him, pressing a far overdue kiss to his lips. Cas, as always, meets him in the middle, a hand gently encircling Dean’s wrist as he kisses him back with ten years of pent of adoration.

One kiss turns into two, turns into seven before they finally settle back into their respective seats.

“First angel mating ritual in history,” Dean says around a satisfied smile. “And you were successful.”

“Yes, I’ll be sure to tell the other angels in case any of them have a free decade to spend seducing one of the most frustratingly stubborn men on earth.” Cas replies in a way that is full of endearment instead of the frustration he mentioned.

Dean just laughs and kisses him again.

#I can’t explain this #the idea just wouldn’t leave me alone #so I had to type it up so it would go away #destiel #deancas #spn #supernatural #ficlet

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dotster001 · 1 year

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After reading the accidentally called NRC staff member “dad”, imagine the unholy shock when Neige is asking to date mc/yuu

A/N:Gotcha! As with many requests, I went from 0 ideas to three million over night 😂 can never win. It's also very important to me that you know that I had to pause editing this to pet my cat 😍

This is literally the best possible outcome, in his mind. The only person who'd be worthy of you at NRC is Vil, but you can't date him, that's incest! (A poor lovesick Vil has tried to remind him time and again that you are not related, and Divus is neither of your dad. He got sent to his room for that) So Neige LeBlanch, a model, an actor, an RSA student, a man of culture….you could not have chosen better, puppy!

That said…he'll be keeping a close eye on Neige. If there's anything that needs retrained, Crewel will not hesitate to put that pup in his place! But he doubts that will be an issue…😒

Are you serious? This scrawny little prince boy is supposed to protect your fragile magic-less form? No fucking way!!!

Vargas training camp is back in session! He has to make sure that Neige is worthy! It'll only be you, him, and Neige, out in the middle of the forest. Either Niege will prove himself to be strong enough to protect you from overblots and evil mages, or you will see what a wimpy loser he is! Ah, he's really too clever, isn't he? 😁

No matter how many times you tell him you can take care of yourself, and that Neige is actually top of his class at RSA, and is well versed in combat skills from his time as an actor, Vargas is never gonna hear it. All he hears is "blah blah bleh blah". Truly, you picked the highest maintenance man to be your dad.

Neige is loaded! YOU'RE RICH!!!!

He's eagerly ceasing negotiations with the mysterious guardian of Malleus Draconia, and going on and on about how wonderful this is, and how he raised a perfect little chick! Meanwhile you and Neige are awkwardly sitting in the chairs on the other side of his desk wondering if you should still be listening to this…

He's another one you'll have to remind that he didn't raise you. You just kind of got swept up under his wing! Almost literally! Neige doesn't have to buy him gifts. Niege doesn't have to ask his permission to remove you from the nest, which, by the way, you were forced to live in! You don't have to tell him what you and Neige are going to do today!

Then again…every time you remind him of those things he starts sobbing. And Neige is too sweet, and completely falls for the crocodile tears…so really it's up to you how you handle this.

He is totally fine with you dating. 😊

As far as you will ever know, that is.

He is a man with means, who can afford a quick background check on Neige LeBlanch. It's not a personal thing, it's just he has spent so much time teaching the men at NRC, that he forgets there are non problematic men in existence.

But once the background check comes back squeaky clean, he's 100% supportive!

You: Do you want to stay for dinner?

Trein: Do you want to stay forever?

As I said in the post this was requested from, Sam is probably the chillest of the "dads". He is so chill about you dating Neige! So so chill!

He's chill about it…but his friends have seen a lot of bad people in their time.

Neige doesn't want to freak you out, but he definitely feels like something has been following him recently…his bodyguards don't see anything though, so it must be in his head. Ah well, no use worrying you over nothing.

....

Tag list- @shytastemakerthing @eccedentesiast-sapphic @leoll

#twisted wonderland #twst divus #twisted wonderland divus #divus crewel #professor crewel #ashton vargas #twst vargas #dire crowley #twst crowley #crowley #trein #twst mozus trein #mozus trein #twst trein #professor trein #twst sam

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daydreamsandcrashingwaves · 6 months

Text

KICTTC 5

I'm BACK helloooo! Oh my goodness friends! I have so much to tell you all! So I kinda was collar grabbed by this story so my edit of chapter 4 is SO different from what I posted here, SOOOOO I'm posting a bit of the edited Ch4 so no one misses out on plot! ahhh I've been so excited to share this all with you!!!! Transference chapter 3 is in the works as well as a secret WIP! I really wanna focus of my first two stories though so Idk when that will be up or what an update schedule might look like.

Anyways the Angst is strong, the trauma and body horror is as strong as the blasphemous tea I brew, read at your own leisure I aint yo mama lol

Stay safe, give yourself grace, take your meds, get some sun, burrow in a blanket nest, drink water and eat a snack lovelies!

~Ren

Once Danny makes a decision he throws himself in head first, this will be no different. Danny has to start at the beginning. He must tell them everything to have a hope of them understanding how Danny ended up dropping through a portal to his brother’s side. For… their family to understand what true danger hunts him even now.

Dick sips his cup of coffee only to look at it betrayed when it’s bitter and cold. He has been in Bruce’s study watching the live feed of the recovery room for hours. He managed to drag himself to bed when Alfred had insisted but his dreams had been plagued with Danyal trembling on the floor, knife hilt deep in his small neck, the sight of them in the doorway had made him panic and then he was bleeding out, his breath gurgling in his throat as he died. It was an awful way to wake up and he couldn’t even go check on Danyal in person! Damian had cashed in a lot of the blackmail he’s kept on them to keep them away. While Dick was proud of his little brother’s emotional growth, seeing their youngest in person would go a long way for Dick to shake off his nightmare. He is a bat though so he will endure, especially because this involves his family, his brothers.

As the sun started dipping below the horizon behind the curtains Tim walked into the study with two large cups filled to the top with coffee, one with a ton of sugar and cream the other plain black coffee, “Awe Timmy! You brought me coffee!” Dick snatches the plain one up with a smirk.

Tim just grumbles at his grabby hands and relinquishes the cup. He shuffles over to the couch and pulls out his laptop to work on something- Dick isn’t sure where Tim had managed to safely carry the computer with two fresh coffees- and promptly ignores the others as they file in the next ten or so minutes. Judging by the dark circles under everyone’s eyes, sleep was hard to come by.

Bruce is slumped into his chair watching the twins. No one breaks the silence. Dick eyes Jason from where his brother has propped himself against the wall out of the way Their father’s shoulders are tense in anger. So Talia is probably giving him the slip. He can’t help but feel resentment for the woman who keeps secrets that hurt his family. She knows that people don’t always stay dead. When Jason died, the only reason Dick had to face it, recognize that his little brother was dead was because they had his body as sure proof he had been murdered. Dick has seen many times how Bruce grieves and it’s never good. Adding in a twin? Bruce is holding himself together with sheer will power and meticulous training. Bruce might be almost impossible to read but he was the first boy to be adopted. He has more Bruce experience than anyone else in the family but Alfred. He can see the cracks.

Turning back to the screen Dick lets out a little coo at the image. Damian is awake and is looking at Danyal like he’d disappear from under the blanket they share. The boy carefully extracts himself to use the restroom that’s tucked away in the corner. When he comes back onto the screen he is changed into his sweatpants and a t-shirt Dick recognizes as his own. He also spots a change of clothes for Danyal in his arms, which he sets on the side table next to the bed before Damian goes around refilling the water pitcher and glass to be ready for use, setting fresh towels out.

Turning his attention to the younger boy, he can see how sickly the boy is when they’re side by side to compare. His pale skin shows off the dark veins underneath, his cheeks are caving into his face, all his baby fat eaten away, dark bruises under his eyes, and with how injured he was… it’s not telling a pretty story. Dick is confident that if Danyal hadn’t dropped out of the rafters in that warehouse they’d never know he could’ve been out there. He desperately needed help even if he hadn’t realized it yet. Bruce and Dick watch Damian crawl back into bed, Danny doesn’t wake but he does turn towards where Damian has frozen owl-eyed. An arm snags the bottom edge of Damian’s shirt and like a signal the rest of his limbs follow to entwine them together. It’s very cute. With a smirk Dick takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture. It’s unlikely to truly upset Damian since it’s probably the only picture that they have of the twins together right now, but however Damian responds when he knows the picture exists will be satisfying.

“Are we gonna get on with it or just sit in silence with our thumbs up our asses?” Jason glares, looking significantly more tense. He stares down the room while crossing his arms across his chest.

Dick sees Bruce’s shoulders square up like he’s bracing for a physical punch instead of the verbal jab. Batman has an almost obsessive need to know everything he can about a situation, it was one of his many lessons that they as his children made into muscle memory. Knowledge made carefully crafted contingency plans that kept their family safe on and off the streets. Something to hold, to have in reserve for when they need it. To be thrown so many unknowns in the shape of a brother was unsettling them all.

“Jason.” Dick throws him a disappointed look from where he stands by Bruce, placing a hand on his shoulder to diffuse the argument that would shortly explode. “Danyal hasn’t been conscious, he hasn’t had the chance to explain anything yet, has he?” He raises his eyebrow at his brother. The family might not always reach an agreement on, well most things, but Dick knows his younger brother cares. He does. He won’t admit it but he’s here. Red Hood sticks to Crime Alley, looking after his people and- though he won’t claim them- his kids. One glance at Danyal’s wounded, still form was all it took to gain his loyalty. Red Hood liked to take his aggression out on those who disrespect his claim. Jason’s impulse to run off and hunt the monsters who could harm a child this way was poorly hidden. Dick understood the feeling so he didn’t push further.

Jason sneered at his words but didn’t bite back, just turned his impatient gaze towards Tim. “I’m sure Tim has been doing more digging than sleeping.”

Bruce inhales sharply drawing all of their attention. He’s looking at the monitor, hitting the unmute, Damian’s voice floods the room. “I simply meant you only have to tell me what has happened since we were separated… Once, here. I-We had thought you would prefer what privacy we can afford while we determined who had made the grave mistake of harming you. The family, while well intentioned, can be overwhelming. It is difficult gathering everyone and having them sit quietly for extended periods of time and our family is… large.”

Damian’s description brought a small smile to Dick’s face. Danyal’s quiet reply dimmed the edges because he sounded so young.

The whole group shifted and was laser focused on their new family member. Dick can’t think of any way to describe this whole situation as wrong as he took in what he could see.. It had nothing to do with Danny himself, or maybe it was more accurate to say whatever made his newly claimed baby brother look like that was what was firing off all his finely honed warning bells. A glance around at the others makes it clear they’re all, for once, on the same page.

If Bruce’s glare could kill the poor monitor would’ve been smoking at this point. Danyal was clearly at the end of his rope. Dick will admit as much as it irks him Damian was right to sequester the recovery room and keep Danyal in a calm area. They watch in horror as Danyal starts to speak. He was hesitant and nervous at first but slowly gained confidence when Damian didn’t react adversely.

The rest of them didn’t have to restrain themselves.

“What the actual fuck?” That’s Tim’s angry voice, Dick shutters. He sounds like he’s already started on researching his shit list by the furious tapping that comes from the couch. Drs Fenton, the Ghost Investigation Ward, and Vlad Masters can’t possibly know what is coming for them. Dick isn’t sure whether to step in when Jason sinks down into the couch next to their younger brother and they immediately start whispering between themselves.

He decides after a long look at the twins murmuring to each other that he would rather check on Bruce. “B?”

The man that stands firm against Gotham’s most unsavory rogues, looks back at him lost. His eyes get drawn back to his sons on the screen, “He’s so small Dick. I-” It’s rare Bruce breaks in composure and Dick’s chest squeezes. His father looks haunted.

“We’re here for him now, B.” He says gently. There are no words he could say that can erase what is already done.

They listen to Tim and Jason in the background while watching Damian help Danyal get out of bed. Once on his feet Danyal waves his twin away. He’s weak and shaky but they breathe a bit easier when his legs don’t give out underneath his body weight. The short walk to the bathroom door seemed to have winded him. Danyal reaches for the wall and presses into it while he pauses. And pauses.

Damian hasn’t rushed to his side so Dick tries not to panic. He probably needs a moment to gather himself. “Do you think we need to send Alfred down?” He asks Bruce.

“What?” Tim and Jason both looked up at him in tandem.

“Danyal! He was- well he is- fine. But look! He’s all hunched like he can’t breathe right? Why is Damian just watching?” Dick frets wringing his hands.

Attention diverted from their plans of destruction the two leave the couch and crowd around Bruce’s desk.

“Oh fuck!” Tim curses, roughly rolling Bruce’s chair away from the keyboard. “I don’t know how they did it but I think the feed was paused, or spliced or looped. I’m trying to override it- Ah! I got it!”

The feed clears and they all blink at the empty room. The bathroom door is open and Danyal’s things that were by the door are gone.

Bruce jumps out of his chair. “What were they doing right before?”

Tim pulls up the saved file and finds the moments right before the glitch. “They’re hugging?” A few lines of code and Tim has the background volume boosted. A hushed conversation in Arabic reaches their ears.

“Okay Danyal, I understand and will help you,” Damian studies his brother for a moment, “how can I help you best in this moment Danyal, what is it you want.”

They watch Danyal look around at the room, fear leaking in now that he’s not focused on the boy with him. “I can’t be here. I won’t heal.”

Bruce flinches like Danyal had hit him.

They embraced, and whatever else was said was too muffled to pick up.

They watch entranced, like a bruise you can’t help but press on, as the scene plays out and ends with Danyal leaning against the wall.

“They can’t have gotten far, the demon brat wouldn’t risk hurting his precious twin, Dickie-Bird and I can fetch the chicks that flew the nest.” Jason sighs.

Bruce’s phone rings and they all look at it with reluctance. That’s Oracle’s ringtone so it’s important. Dick swipes the device and answers with a quick, “O, we’ve got a situation, please tell me this is important.”

“Yeah it is,” Barbra agrees, “if you guys were gonna patrol why wasn’t I looped in, huh?”

Dick exchanges a confused look with the others. “Uh no, O, we agreed no patrol tonight, Black Bat, Signal, and Spoiler were our covers.”

“Then why is the Batmobile headed towards the edge of town?”

They, with years of experience fighting side by side, spring in sync for the hidden entrance and pile into the elevator to the cave to change and to track down their brothers.

~~~~~~~

Gotham was unusually muggy this evening. Bruce could feel the sweat drip down his scalp and his suit was already damp. Breath blazed through his lungs yet brought him no warmth. He had to suppress his instinct to shiver. Fear was all he could feel. It was bone chillingly familiar. Nothing like Scarecrow’s toxin yet he was still sinking deeper into glacier littered water. As Batman, Bruce has taken many hits, faced the cruel underbelly of Gotham from the shadows and had said enough. Birthed from vengeance and relentlessly courting justice, he gets back up, keeps moving, doesn’t stay down even when he probably should. No one else had managed to stand against the city’s rogues. Every night he embraces their seething rage that blistered the streets and exploded buildings. Batman turns towards danger, not away. He is the shield that protects his city's people from the impact the best he can. It’s never enough. Batman has flung himself head first into a race that had long since started.

In the rare hours he is alone surrounded by the soft glow of the Batcomputer and the quiet rustling of sleeping bats he can admit, those first years, he had enjoyed the vicious fights. Tangoing with death each night. He was entranced, he would dance until the curtain dropped. It was a destructive cycle he couldn’t escape. As he’s aged his compulsion to run off has cooled, and it was only after the first time Dick got more than just a few bruises did he realize the true cost. Even if he couldn’t stop them, perhaps he should’ve tried harder to work with his children to ensure their safety. A family of vigilantes was a double edged blade. His curse to bear. The curse he spread. Every night his heart is split into pieces and goes with them as they stalk their prey from within the shadows. His children amaze terrify him in how they’ve all risen to fight back the miasma that threatens to swallow Gotham whole.

He doesn’t know Danyal, has never learned what his favorite breakfast is or seen him off to school. They have never shared late night training sessions. His youngest has never fallen asleep sequestered away in his own world working on a case and for Bruce to find him and tuck him into bed like he has with all of his children at least once. No. He was never given a chance. Danyal’s existence was hidden from him. His death was a secret Damian was manipulated into thinking he had to carry the weight alone. And people believed Batman to be some sort of legendary detective. If Bruce was less controlled he might scoff at the thought. He missed things, big and small, all the time. Most often it was his children that were affected by his carelessness, his lack of understanding.

He knows what it is to lose a son. In death and because of his own parental ineptitude. Bruce knows what it is for his world to spin out from under his feet and to let his rage blindly guide him. Bruce risks a glance at Jason, his walking, talking, breathing miracle. Why couldn’t he just say that to the person who needed to hear it. Jason had died, it was awful, truly awful. As an adult he has never felt so lost. Jason was only a child. A brilliant, bright, life snuffed out in the cruelest way only for some universal hiccup to thrust his soul back into body and for Talia to pick him up. They’ve never talked about the Y-incision that spans his entire torso. Jason hadn’t intended for him to see it. Bruce doesn’t know who is responsible. He doesn’t know if they dare breathe another breath on Earth. He’s afraid to ask. He’s afraid of what he’ll do if they aren’t already dead. No, the only thing he knew about it was what Jason had deliriously shared with him while sick with whooping cough. The cut may have happened but that was as far as they got. His ribs remained intact, his organs undisturbed. Bruce has to trust Jason told him the truth. Bruce hadn’t had the strength to imagine alternatives.

He has no choice now. Whatever Danyal’s journey has been, wherever he’s been. Bruce despairs that his youngest’s life journey has been too similar to Jason’s. Danny had listed off to Damian the multitude of injuries he had and Bruce just knew. Two of his sons have been dehumanized, valued as objects for other’s use, to state their curiosity. His youngest didn’t just get cut into, as despicable as that already was, no, he was awake, aware, alive as some sick fuck rooted around behind his ribs. (Half-alive. His gut rolls at the implications yet it brings none of his usual suspicions to draw his attention to what his son was hiding. Only he wasn’t hiding, not from the Wayne family. No, he had shared everything with very little prompting from Damian. Danyal was running from them) Bruce could only stare at the screen in his office in horror. How fast did his regenerative ability work to regrow his harvested organs? Did he have to break wrongly healed bones and had to hold them in place until they healed enough for him to escape or did his bones snap forcefully into place on their own-

It’s a race against time now. Danyal is in no condition to be on the run. It would crush him to send him away but Bruce would. He can find a secure place away from him for his son if that’s what it took to make him feel safe enough to rest. Recovery needs to be his number one priority, he had been slowly relaxing with Damian yet as soon as he wasn’t disoriented he fled. What does that say about how he thinks they’ll treat him? What does it say about Bruce that Damain felt he could better protect his twin alone?

Bruce forces himself to reach for his comms and connects to the main comm line they use for patrols. “Everyone, change of plans, keep your eyes open for both boys. They fled from the cave in the Batmobile, hail the line immediately if they’re sighted, I don’t expect Robin to linger once it stops.” Bruce internally curses at himself that he didn’t think to have some sort of code for his youngest. He’s known for creating contingency plans for his contingency plans, yet he is not prepared for this. He could’ve never prepared himself for the knowledge he had not one blood son but two, twins. He couldn’t be too revealing incase someone was listening. “We’re in pursuit of the Batmobile now. Remember the boys are both League trained, Robin likely will have some tricks he’ll play.. The boy’s full capabilities are still unknown and he is heavily injured, proceed with caution, the boy is likely running on instinct, resistance is expected. We want to avoid making them feel cornered.” His tone is tight with worry, He doesn’t blame Danyal for being suspicious. He may be their father, but as far as he knows it wouldn’t be safe. Well, Bruce can’t blame either of them, they’re children, his children. He will blame their mother though. “We want them to get them home safe with no further injuries.”

Some very distant part of him is proud of Damian for unequivocally having his brother’s back, if only they could bond over things that didn’t shave years off his life. Bruce has never been more stressed. Some day soon he’ll just have to embrace the grey that was sprouting in his black hair and give Alfred relief from helping him hide them.

“Copy that B-man! Our eyes are peeled!” Spoiler responds “I’m currently in Burnley, Orphan’s got Somerset covered and Signal is in Old Gotham! If they’re out here we’ll find them.”

“From what Oracle sent, I think I should be able to pick something up with my powers, I’ll keep trying while we move, B.” Signal pipes in.

“Thank you Signal.” Bruce is flooded with relief. He really is lucky to have them, there’s no one else he’d rather have at his back. They’ve all grown into their own. He tries not to sigh.

Discovering the twins missing had sent them scrambling, even Jason had looked worried and tucked away his instinct to question him or to argue, his second son had simply followed them down to the cave. At this rate he may get an ulcer. He had felt panic steal his critical thinking, as he led his boys south towards where the Batmoblie was speeding away faster than they could grapple. He had to find them. Gotham isn’t safe at night and Danyal’s movements will be restricted if he deems it important not to rip his stitches.

Moving through the air usually calmed him but tonight grappling wasn’t moving him around fast enough. Taking the Batmobile was smart of his sons, he begrudgingly had to admit, not only was it faster, the boys would be hidden inside. If Robin had driven his bike he’d have superior maneuverability even though Batman could’ve followed them faster, but if the boys had impacted something during a high speed chase to flee? They’d both be thrown. Danyal is already severely injured anything additional.. Bruce couldn’t make himself focus on that.

His Trouble Twins probably planned it this way to slow them down. To throw them off their tracks. It was working, the boys had a 10 minute lead on their group. They’d left as soon as they had suited up but they still were too far out of reach. Away from the protective shadow of his cape. He couldn’t protect them now that they left the safety of the manor. Jason was cursing underneath him on the street racing past buildings on his bike, he was slightly ahead of Batman and Nightwing’s position in the air, on the bike next to him Tim was working with Barbara to try and get eyes on the boys. Quiet suggestions on what to look for. Shadows that move unnaturally, flashes of color there and gone, how they needed an algorithm up to analyze all of the feeds simultaneously. With the many cameras in Gotham-more than half Bruce had bought for the city to install- they wouldn’t be so hard to find. They shouldn't be so difficult to find, but Damian was particularly slippery when he put in the effort. Bruce glanced at his eldest besides him.

Dick was one long string pulled too tight. He, of course, was still chatting happily with Barbara but his smile was strained at the edges, his movements too careful and precise. He hasn’t joked once. The possibility the man would snap increases the longer the twins are missing. It’s rare to see Dick outwardly expressing something other than the pure sunshine and patience. By the time Jason had come around he had curbed most of his bloodlust, it was a faint memory by the time Tim weaseled his way into their lives. It reminds Bruce too much of Brucie. The persona that he developed to hide from the vultures that would’ve taken everything from him as a child when tragedy struck. Before Bruce had decided to be active in Gotham’s social scene he knew it was better they underestimate poor orphaned Bruce Wayne. Brucie hid Batman, a shield to protect his family from those who would expose their secrets. He was necessary, even if Bruce felt suffocated most of the time. Was Dick hiding from him?

He has to suppress a shutter. All his children to some degree, whether on or off the streets, have adapted to Batman’s mannerisms and habits. It was essential to survive facing the threats they do. Dick though fell more into Bruce’s habits. His eldest son, who with a smile looked after his siblings while Bruce was distracted by some crisis or another.They both often blamed themselves for things they couldn’t stop or foresee. That heavy invisible weight that sits on their shoulders because they claimed it. Bruce knows that he’s failed his children, Dick.. Dick in particular has had to step up on his behalf to smooth things over between family members. Forced to become another parent to the kids he brought home. It was never Dick’s responsibility and it’s taken time and a lot of effort but Bruce is making steps forward, trying to stop repeating the same mistakes. It was only Alfred’s guidance and help raising the boy that he excelled instead of crumbling under Bruce’s incompetence. Bruce was trying though. Even if it was hard to talk about casually, he was in therapy, it was.. Helping. He’s not putting so much of himself onto his children these days. He’s been processing his thoughts and feelings instead of bottling them inside and letting his anger rule him.

Words though, they still escaped him on the best days. Today was shaping up into an absolutely horrible one. Bruce wanted to say something to reassure his sons that things would be okay. None sounded right. He let them choke him. If they could just find Danyal. As much as it would pain Bruce, his youngest doesn’t have to stay with them-with him. Bruce could never trap him here. He… He just wants Danyal to recover. Recover and be safe, whatever that looks like. The boy looked so small next to Damian. They’re twins and Danyal was so small on that bed next to his brother, all skin and bones, his skin stretched over his face making him look years older and the blood, oh God, it took a second but once they realized all that green was coming from inside of him, Bruce was sure they were going to be planning another funeral. The Y-shaped wound was gruesome and he had stared in shock. Another one of his children getting cut open, violated. Vivisected. He was going to mourn another child. He was going to puke. He was going to destroy those who dared to touch Danyal. A heady mix of vengeance and justice for a boy he’d never properly meet. Somehow though, the boy had stabilized. His boy, another one. He’s too old for surprise kids. Only to be spirited away by Damian behind layers and layers of traps that had made the family hesitate and then they were gone, on the run with Alfred’s careful stitches being the only thing holding Danyal together.

What were they thinking? Why wasn’t I? Why didn’t I fight Damian harder when he locked them out of the recovery room? No…Danyal was already compromised. Damian saw this and ran from his family because he didn’t trust them to protect Danyal, didn’t trust them not to set him off. Maybe they would’ve made it worse, maybe his son was right even if Bruce didn’t want to admit it. Damian was saving them from an error. The boy who he had only met unconscious or through a screen, would’ve lashed out at himself again and they would’ve caused his-

“B? The Batmobile’s tracker has stopped moving on the edge of Burnside near the Craig Bridge. I can’t get a clear view.” Oracle reports

“Hn.” He adjusts his trajectory and his sons follow suit, adjusting their positions to be out behind him in a V-shaped formation. If someone were to see them at this hour they’d see the vigilantes and would draw parallels between them and their namesakes, in normal circumstances it might bring a ghost of a smile across his face, they were a mixed bag flock. His flock. His family. He was thankful to have them at his back tonight. They’d find the boys, they had to. They still had nothing on the threat that was nipping at Danyal’s heels. If they were caught…

“Why would the Demon Brats go there?” Jason grumbles. They’re three blocks away now so Bruce has to fight his nausea down. They might have to subdue the boys if they won’t listen to reason. The idea of injuring Danyal further or obliterating any chance to build a relationship because he sees them as a threat rather than family. He has to stay firm though. He might have not been allowed in the room but between Alfred’s worried fretting and the security feed Bruce is very aware how Danyal shouldn’t be moving let alone going on the run with Damian. If Danyal would just let him explain he had options maybe he’d come back on his own.

“Hood, Red Robin, hang back and spread out. Start searching. I’d like to have our newest addition to Agent A within the hour. Nightwing with me.”

His grapple connects to the next roof and he leans into the arc so his path can wrap around the corner. Just ahead the Batmobile is stopped. The doors were open, no signs of the boys or of a struggle. Bruce knows they won’t find anything inside the Batmobile, Damian is efficient and clean in his work, but they look anyway. Bruce shares a look with his oldest and sighs.

“Nothing in the Batmobile, Hood, Red Robin, report.” He shoots his grapple at the closest roof to get a better view of the surrounding area, Nightwing follows closely behind him.

“Nothing that I can see.” Hood grunts.

“Nothing here either, no alerts from the cameras.” Red Robin sounds frustrated, “You don’t think they bailed in a dead zone, do you? Robin wouldn’t have him jump from a speeding vehicle, right?”

“Hn.” Bruce refuses to acknowledge that thought. Even if it was a likely option, if they felt it necessary to throw them off to that degree. Dick is quiet next to him. He wants to say the right thing to ease his worries. Bruce has never been good at finding the right words, to reassure without false promises but will always try, “We’ll figure out what happened, Chum.”

Dick looks at him for a long moment. Bruce lets him and tries not to shutter himself away. Dick needs Bruce more than Batman right now. “Yeah,” It comes out grim, “before or after my youngest brother reopens something?”

Bruce squeezes his son’s shoulder before turning away and shoots his grapple at the next roof. Right before he jumps he says, “We can only hope the boys are being careful and try our best to find them.”

#daydreamsandcrashingwaves #dc x dp #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #batpham #demon twins au #danny fenton whump #danny and damian are twins #Keeping it close to the chest #fic writing #KICTTC fic #KICTTC update #my writing #lets just say this is more of a sneak peak ;3 #danny fenton #damian wayne #WHERE DID THEY GO BWAHAHAHHAHa

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scalingsvt8thusiast · 6 months

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Skin-Deep Chapter 13

summary: The one where you fall for Seungcheol amongst all the protests and insecurities. The one where you don't know that he's fallen for you too.

a/n: thanks for all the support! second last chapter of the series :D

Seokmin’s family rarely used their jet. In fact the person who probably used it the most was Seokmin himself, always flying to different parts of the world to watch critically acclaimed musicals. Most recently he travelled to Europe to catch the reprise of Les Misérables. He had spent the hours in transit quietly going through his usual routine of humming to the songs from the musical whilst reading through the script.

A stark contrast to whatever was happening right now. He sat in his usual chair, nursing a glass of whiskey, trying to flip through the script of the Lion King. Keyword: Trying.

Right in front of him, Jihoon was holding Soonyoung in headlock after he had horanghae-d at Jihoon one too many times. Seungkwan was singing at the top of his lungs to some song from Twice(?) and Joshua was strumming his guitar, singing his favourite ‘Sunday Morning’.

Seokmin gave up, shutting the manuscript. He turned to the only other quiet person in the cabin, scrutinising his face.

Seungcheol’s eye bags were horrible, his lips were as dry as the Sahara dessert and his hair was a makeshift birds nest. If Seokmin didn’t know any better, he would have thought his friend had just gone through theatre camp. Seokmin shivered at the thought of theatre camp.

“How you feeling?” Seokmin asked gently.

“Better.” Seungcheol muttered, turning to smile weakly at Seokmin.

Seokmin’s friend, Minghao, had invited him to his 27th birthday bash and apparently Minghao was a mutual friend amongst the boys, so they all decided to travel together. How they had settled on using Seokmin’s jet was beyond him, but hey at least they decreased their carbon footprint by plane-pulling.

Jeonghan, who also knew Minghao, was also invited. The boys had asked Jeonghan to join them only to find out that he was already in the area. Some sort of visit with his parents.

Seokmin brought his attention back to Soonyoung and Jihoon who was rolling around on the floor, Soonyoung still in a headlock, turning quite red.

Seokmin sighed, this was going to be a long flight.

Seungcheol sat in his hotel suite. Contemplating on completely blowing off the party and just staying in.

He shook his head. He couldn’t do that to Minghao, whom he hadn’t seen since his high school days.

He looked out the window, admiring the city skyline. His mind drifting back to you. You who loved views like this. Always snapping photos with that funky film camera only for it to develop horribly because you couldn’t quite figure out the lighting.

A smile crept onto his face before it was quickly replaced by a frown.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you. Now that his friends had placed him on an alcohol ban (Jihoon had called the hotel beforehand to ask for all the alcohol in his room to be removed), he had no way of stopping the sadness that came after the fleeting moments of happiness. The sadness which came once he realised how much he had hurt you.

Multiple messages rang through his phone, it was probably Soonyoung asking why he wasn’t in the lobby and ready to leave. He hesitantly pulled out his phone, eyes falling on his wallpaper. It was you, with the brightest smile, holding a kitten in your arms.

He remembered the day like it was yesterday. He had brought you to a cat cafe to celebrate a hundred days of your relationship. You were completely ignoring him for all the cats, running from one cat to another, trying to pet and hug every single one. He was completely fine just watching you, he would do anything to make you happy.

One of the workers showed you a kitten, letting you cradle it in your arms. When Seungcheol saw your eyes light up, smiling so softly at the kitten, he swore he fell in love right there and then. Or maybe he had fallen in love when he first saw you, or maybe it was when you tripped over the mountains of laundry in your room. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment, but he knew he was in love with you.

He had planned an entire event where he would whisk you off to some remote island that he’d fill with flowers and hire a chef to serve your favourite food all while he professed his undying love for you on one knee, followed by a promise to marry you in the years to come.

He went from having everything to nothing, all in the span of a week.

“CHOI SEUNGCHEOL I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU ARE DRINKING IN THERE!” Seungkwan shouted from outside the door, causing Seungcheol to jump.

“Jesus Christ, I’m NOT!” Seungcheol shouted back before opening the door.

“Well.” Seungkwan said, lowering his volume now that he was face to face with his friend. “Let’s go, we’re all waiting for you downstairs.

“You guys came!”

The absolute joy on Minghao’s face made Seungcheol smile.

“Happy birthday, eight.” Seungcheol said, passing Minghao a box. He had picked up a fancy new tea set, under the clever advise of Seungkwan, for the occasion.

The other boys wished Minghao happy birthday, all of them adding to the birthday boy’s mountain of gifts.

Minghao’s house, or palace, was huge. He had a whole ballroom within the compound which he claimed his father had built to entertain guests.

“Why he needs an entire ballroom just to meet 1 or 2 people?” Minghao explained to the boys over drinks, “Beyond me.”

Seungcheol kept a polite smile on his face. Not wanting to be a wet blanket on his friend’s birthday. He didn’t bother looking at anybody else, focusing his attention on the very interesting cup of orange juice given to him by Jihoon.

“Oh Cheol,” Minghao said, grabbing him by the shoulder. “Are you still single?”

“I-,”

“There’s this girl I want to introduce you too! I swear she’s perfect for you!”

“Hao, I’m not sure-,”

“There she is now!” Minghao beamed, looking to the main doors.

Seungcheol turned reluctantly, humouring his friend.

That’s when he saw you, arm in arm with another man.

a/n: again, not satisfied with this chapter I am. Let me know if there's anyway you guys think I should improve.

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bvbygrl-writes · 10 days

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Season of The Witch (2)

Pairing: Jacob Black x Witch!Reader x Edward Cullen

Word Count: 2k

Summary: (Y/N) (L/n) is 19 and still trying to figure out the world. She isn't sure of a lot of things but she is sure of one: she's gonna have her cake and eat it too.

A/N: Look at me, posting consistently! don't get used to it. Anyways, enjoy chapter 2! Edward will be introduced either in the next chapter or chapter 4.

Warnings: N/A but it will be 18+ at some point most likely. Minors and blanks dni. Also I didn't edit any of it so ignore any typos.

Chatter from below and music from your speaker filled your room as you flopped back onto your bed after a well deserved shower. With Jacob, as you now knew him to be, coming in and out of your room earlier with your furniture, you didn’t want to risk any more magic related injuries as you did earlier, leading to you having to manually unpack the rest of your knick knacks. But in the process, you sweated a fair amount but as you looked around your room, it was well worth it.

Your mind drifted back to the symbol on his arm earlier, trying to place where exactly you had seen it. Jumping from your nest of blankets, you glanced over the plethora of books on the shelves, skimming the titles carefully.

Occult runes & symbols. Snatching the book from the shelf, you hopped back onto your bed, flipping through the pages quickly, mind fixated on the symbol from earlier until finally you landed on it. “The Quilete people, like many indigenous tribes, have a rich and fruitful history. Legend says that some of them have the spirit of the wolf within and the ability to shapeshift into the aforementioned animal. In addition to having warmer body heat, they also have enhanced speed, super strength, and pack connection.” you read out loud to yourself. Gliding your finger across the page, you continued to read on the history and associations with them. However, the sound of your door opening caused you to whip your head up, slamming the book shut.

“Your parents wanted me to tell you dinner is ready. Me, my dad, and the Swans will be joining you for dinner, hope you don’t mind.” Jacob said, now wearing a shirt much to your disappointment. Gulping, you nod, watching as he tries to look at the cover of your book. You spread your hands across it, hiding as much of it as you could. “Aren’t you a little old for a diary?” You scoff at his words, tossing the book behind your pillows.

“It’s not a diary. Plus, there’s nothing wrong with a little healthy journaling.” You retort, hopping up from your bed as you smooth out the wrinkles in your long skirt, centering your necklace on your chest. Glancing at the mirror on the wall, you fix your hair before walking over to him, shoving your finger into his chest. “You should try it sometimes.”

“Whatever you say. You look nice, by the way.” you look up at him, mouth gaping some. Your eyes remain locked for what feels like forever before you brush by him, looking down the hall towards the stairs.

“Thanks.” You can’t even see him but you can feel that cocky smirk he seems to be wearing since you met him.

As you approach the table, Jacob pulls out your chair for you before making his way to the otherside, sitting next to an unfamiliar girl. She’s about your age with dark brown hair and a set of eyes to match it. She’s wearing a striped top that hugs her form nicely. You watch as she looks up at Jacob, saying something to him that you can’t quite make out which causes him to laugh. You roll your eyes internally, glaring holes into the side of her face. ‘Of course a guy that hot has a girlfriend. Dream on, (Y/n/n)’ you think to yourself as you finally take your seat. Sat beside your left is Charlie, Mr.Black on your right, your parents on the ends of the table, Jacob is across from you, and the girl you don’t know to his left.

“(Y/n/n), this is Bella, Charlie’s daughter! I’m sure you girls will get along great.” Your mom says, causing the girl, Bella, to look at you. You wave at her awkwardly as she smiles. She seems nice enough. “I hope everyone is hungry! I made quite a lot so feel free to help yourselves to whatever you’d like. I’ve got dessert in the kitchen!” She squeals out excitedly, motioning to the feast on the table. There’s a colorful salad, a basket of garlic bread, two lasagnas, and a pitcher of different drinks all arranged beautifully on the table. Your stomach groans with a hunger you didn’t even know you had.

As everyone eats, you observe Jacob and Bella carefully. You watch as he whispers something to her, causing her face to blush pink, swishing her hair over her shoulder coyly. You stab at your lasagna aggressively, shoving the fork in your mouth. There’s no reason for you to feel this way, you’ve barely known the guy for a day. But still, you always had an active imagination and the moment you had a crush, it was turned to one thousand. Watching on, your envy grew more and more until Bella’s cup fell over, with a bang, spilling all over her shirt and lap. Your eyes widened as silence fell upon the table as Bella stood up, attempting to wipe the mess from the table.

“I am so sorry! I-I don’t even know how that happened, I was nowhere near my cup.” Bella stammered out. Your eyes flickered over to your mom who was already looking at you. Judging by her face, she was not very happy with you. Even though it wasn’t purposeful, you still felt awful.

“It’s okay, dear don’t worry about it! This table is a little off balance, we’ve been meaning to fix it for a while.” Your mother assured her, covering for you with ease. You hopped up from the table as well, running over to help her clean up the mess. “(Y/n) why don’t you take Bella upstairs and give her something to change into?” She suggested, nodding her head towards the stairs.

“O-okay.” you stuttered out. You didn’t trust yourself to say something not so incriminating. You grab Bella’s arm, leading her up the stairs towards your room. As you shut the door behind you, you rush to your dresser pulling out a t-shirt and jeans before handing it to her.

“Thanks.” she says with a half smile before beginning to undress. You turn around towards your balcony, giving her a bit of privacy. You hear her sigh as she unzips her jeans. “God, that was so embarrassing.”

“No problem. And don’t even worry about it. I’m a total klutz myself. Granted, I’ve never done something like that in front of a guy I was dating.” You shrug. As you hear her rezip herself into the new jeans you turn around. She gives you a puzzled look, tilting her head.

“You mean Jacob?” she questions. Unsure of how to respond, you give her a hesitant nod. She chuckles. “You’ve got the wrong idea. Jacob is just a friend. A close one, sure, but nothing more than that” she pauses for a moment, as if she can’t decide if she wants to tell you something before she speaks again. “I’m into girls.” she says a bit quieter. You celebrate a bit inside.

“Interesting.” you respond. She looks at you, taking in your expression. It looks as if a lightbulb has turned on in her head. She raises a brow, giggling some.

“He is single, by the way. Plus from the sounds of it, he’s taken quite a liking to you already. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” you go to argue but render it useless. With the way you’re fidgeting with your hands and biting at your lip, you know there’s nothing you could rebuttal with.

“I-I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Bella.” she nods before heading towards your bedroom door, shutting it softly on her way out.

After the fiasco that had taken place earlier, you thought it’d be best if you stayed up in your room until the guest left. Even though no one knew it was you, you did and that was enough to riddle you with embarrassment. For the past hour, you just replayed the scene over and over in your head, staring at the ceiling as if it would offer you any form of comfort. You were so in your head that you didn’t even notice the sound of the door opening.

“Didn’t want you to miss dessert.” you rolled your head to the side to see Jacob, a few cookies on the plate in his hands. He closed the door, getting closer and closer until he crawled in next to you onto your bed, setting the plate down in between you two. Sitting up, you smiled at him before grabbing one, biting into it with a content moan.

“Thanks. Look at you, being nice to me.” you joke. He laughs, scooting a bit closer to you. His eyes flicker from yours to your lips. Your body tenses as he moves his hand to your face. He holds it there for a bit before swiping the corner of your lip.

“Had a bit of chocolate on your face.” before you could respond, he licks the chocolate from his thumb, eyes not leaving yours for a second. “Delicious.” he mutters. You inch your free hand closer to his on the bed, his warm hands soothing the natural coldness to yours. He moves his hand on top of yours, his large hand engulfing yours.

“You do this with all your Dad’s friends' daughters?” you ask. He shakes his head, his eyes flickering down to the bed before looking back up at you.

“No, just you.” your insides feel like mush. In your old state, boys never really paid you any mind. They were too focused on every other girl. Even the guy who asked you to prom ended up ditching you halfway through for a girl from his theater group. It was rare for you to even speak to a guy, let alone be holding hands with one on your bed. You could feel your heart practically beating out of your chest.

A rare moment of boldness came over you as you moved closer, throwing your legs over his lap, laying your head on his shoulder. You gasped as he moved his hand from yours to your waist, his warmth encasing you in the most comforting way. The two of you just sat there for a moment, the cookies growing cold and forgotten as you enjoyed each other's presence.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” he spoke, his voice vibrating in his chest. You glanced up at him, noticing him already looking down at you.

“Not that I know of. I’m pretty much done unpacking.” you responded. His hand glided over your head, gently massaging your scalp.

“How about I come get you? I can take you on a ride on my bike, show you around town a bit.” he throws out there. You feel that mushy feeling in your gut again.

“I’d love to.” you reach into the pocket of his jeans, grabbing his phone as you create a new contact, adding your name and number before sticking it back in place. “Text me. Or if not, you know where to find me.”

“Sounds like a plan.” he says, a genuine smile on his face. You smile back at him, nuzzling your face deeper into his chest. His head rests on top of yours, the two of you staying like that until a howl is heard in the distance. Jacob’s body tenses under you as he clears his throat. “I need to get going. Text you later?” you try your best not to frown, nodding at his words. ‘Must be his pack.’ you think to yourself. He sighs deeply, reluctantly removing himself from you as he makes his way towards your bedroom door, quickly running out.

The door doesn’t stay closed for long though as your mom opens it, wiggling her eyebrows at you. “Had fun? You must’ve because everyone else has been gone for hours!” you grab a pillow, shoving it over your face.

“Mom, please!” you huff out but, she ignores your plea, hopping onto your bed, your body bouncing from the movements.

“He seems like a really sweet boy, honey. I like him for you! I know you’re an adult but, you’re really growing up now. Soon you’ll be getting married, having babies, and-”

“Enough!”

#twilight x you #twilight x y/n #twilight x reader #twilight imagine #twilight #jacob black x you #jacob black imagine #jacob black x reader #edward cullen x y/n #edward cullen x reader

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highlordofkrypton · 2 months

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ACOTAR Omegaverse Week // Day 1 - Nesting

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

SUMMARY: Tamlin's things have been going missing from his manor in the Spring Court. More specifically, all the clothes Rhysand has gifted him are disappearing one by one. It's time for him to get to the bottom of this mystery.

PAIRING: Alpha Tamlin x Omega Rhysand

TAGS: General Audiences, fluff, light angst, nesting, no smut

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Ahhh, my very first entry to @acotar-omegaverse-week! I've never written for Omegaverse before, so this is totally new to me. Hopefully, as the week goes on I get a better grasp of the universe. I hope you guys like it!

TAMLIN AND THE CURIOUS CASE OF UNGIVEN THINGS

That's strange… It was here just last night.

Tamlin stares at the plush velvet chair by his closet, the one where he tosses things that he is either far too lazy to put away in the separate room three feet away dedicated to his and his mate's clothes, or that he uses frequently enough that there is no point in putting it away. The shawl was made of white fur, purchased somewhere in the Winter Court—or so Rhysand told him.

He liked that shawl. It was nice to throw over his shoulder and run his hands through its softness, absent-minded, while working.

Perhaps it has been sent to cleaning.

The High Lord catches Alis, startling the little urisk who was puttering around the manor chasing chirping dustmites with her broom.

"My lord!" She straightens, as if she should never offend him with the sight of her… doing her work. Alis has old values, ones that Tamlin does not particularly adhere to.

"Good morning, Alis. Have you seen my shawl? The white one?" Tamlin describes it, holding his hands out to better show its size. "I would think it was sent to cleaning since it's not on my chair."

"No, no… I instructed the others not to touch anything on your chair unless you put it away for cleaning." Alis hums. It's better that way, so not to assume their lord was done using it when he still needs it. "Perhaps someone took it by accident. I hope it's not another sock elf."

"I thought we put out old clothes for them to steal instead of our laundry." Tamlin frowns. The sock-elves had stolen a sweater he rather liked, too.

"I thought so, too. I will look into this myself, my lord." Alis bows and shuffles away as quickly as she can without running.

Maybe he shouldn't kick up such a fuss. A new shawl can easily be bought, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Rhysand that he lost yet another gift from him. Come to think of it, Rhysand has been giving him a lot of things lately. Tamlin should give him something in return; he's been so busy with work, the gifts must have been a quiet way to ask for his attention.

Rhysand, much like the shawl, is nowhere to be found in the manor. He left a note on their beside table, a vague but trustworthy 'be back soon'. His absence gives Tamlin time to think of a way to shower him with the adoration he deserves, so he gathers a piece of hand-pressed parchment, a quill with gold ink and heads to his library to sit in his favourite chair—

"My chair is missing?"

Now this is ridiculous. It was an egg-shaped chair with a base made of marble and a very comfortable cushion. The chair was large enough to accommodate Tamlin both in his already massive Faerie form and in his beastly shape, should he want to curl up in something den-like.

"Your what?" Rhysand asks, popping his head into the library.

"My chair. My favourite chair. It's missing." Tamlin motions at the very empty spot in the very full library. There's even a circle on the ground of dust and discolouration where it used to be—that's how long it was there.

"Oh my," Rhysand says in muted concern. "This is a tragedy. Oh well, we'll just have to order a new one."

"I don't want to order a new one. I liked that one. Do you know how long it takes to get the cushions to fit you just right?" It also smells of him, his childhood, and it has all the memories that matter. "What if they don't make them exactly like that anymore?"

Tamlin huffs, trying not to pout. Oh, if the other Lords could see him now, sulking because he can't find his favourite egg-shaped chair.

Rhysand approaches him, reaching up to cup his cheek and caress it with his thumb. "I'm sure it'll be alright. I remember the exact dimensions. We'll get you a new one and break it in together?" He grins.

The thought of marking their territory and just basking in each other, erasing the scent of anyone else who's ever touched the chair makes him happy. Tamlin is a simple faerie; he asks for very little, and if Rhysand promised to cuddle him for all eternity and nothing else, he would be a very, very happy man.

Tamlin leans in, pressing a kiss against Rhysand's lips, smiling, and pulling him close. He moves to his neck, breathing in the scent of him and nipping at the skin there lightly. Humming, a very different kind of territorialism spurs in him.

"Wait, wait," Rhysand palms his chest, politely asking for distance. "I wanted to give you another gift."

The Night Prince steps back, opening a drawer encrusted in one of the ornate wooden bookshelves and pulls out a black box. He hands it to Tamlin.

"What… What is this for? Rhys, you're spoiling me. I should be begging for your forgiveness for being busy." Tamlin accepts the gift, but doesn't open it. "You should know," he starts, looking openly guilty. "I keep misplacing the things you've given me. I suspect we may have a sock-elf problem, but I should have been more careful."

Rhysand smiles; he isn't angry at all. "Things are… things. What matters to me is being able to give you these gifts. Even if you make use of them for just a day, it's good enough for me. Open it."

Tamlin kisses Rhysand again, opening the gift. It's a beautiful dark green robe, almost black, that glimmers with colours when held directly under sunlight. It's beautiful. More importantly, it's so soft and velvety.

"You should wear it. Make sure the size is right," Rhysand grins.

***

There's only so much Tamlin can lose before it starts to keep him up at night. The beautiful deep emerald robe disappeared after a day of having it, which is a record, honestly. He can't pass it off as a conniving creature playing a trick on him anymore. It's now a reflection of his capabilities as High Lord. A skill issue, per say.

Then again, he could be awake because the right side of his bed is empty and there is nothing more sobering that missing a part of him.

Tamlin worries. Everyone knows that.

He sits up on his bed and realizes his sheets are missing too? What is going on? Tamlin expects the slide of cool spidersilk against his bare skin, and though he naturally runs hot and kicks the sheets off, he still expects them to be there.

A part of him wonders if Rhysand was kidnapped, bundled up in the fancy sheets he insisted on and carried away into the night. The thought makes Tamlin jealous. If there is any sweeping away to be done, it is by him and him alone.

Fuck taking the stairs; Tamlin must find his mate quickly. He blows open the windows with a hint of magic, launching himself out of his manor and tumbling onto the ground, two floors down, with ease and grace. He sniffs the air, and locks onto the scent, sprinting straight into his forest.

Any other night, he would drink in the beauty of the trees, the symphony of the cicadas, the owls and the foxes, but Tamlin is on a mission. He cannot and will not be stopped until he finds his mate. His hunt takes him down a familiar path, straight towards his second home—a den that he played in as a child, then turned into his own safe haven as he grew older and his father grew crueler. It is the only place where his secrets are harboured and his vulnerabilities are shown.

He hasn't needed his den since Rhysand came into his life—since Rhysand stayed in it.

Tamlin blinks, and his eyes shift to better accommodate the darkness.

"Rhys? I know you're in here."

No response.

As he steps into his den, he realizes… it's been transformed.

The den has always been nothing more than a cave. It's walls were enough to make him feel safe and he would always sleep facing its entrance. No one could get him without his knowledge. The animals would visit and watch over him, of course, but no one else was welcome. (Not until Rhysand.)

Now, it's brimming with things. All the things Tamlin thought he lost, the gifts ungiven and taken back by one clever mate. He walks along the edges, touching the portraits of them and of Rhysand's family. He finds nearly every toy from his childhood; his mother had tried to save what she could from his father's annihilation of his childhood, and Rhysand must have found where she hid them. Tamlin picks up a toy cart with a long, long string. He used to fill this thing with flowers and berries, then drag it along behind him through the forest and all over the manor.

There are books here too. Tamlin recognizes them as Rhysand's. The Spring Court has never tolerated human 'fairy-tales' and he only knows of them because Rhysand has read him each one as proof that humans are brilliant.

Naturally, his egg-chair is here, too. Tucked at the back of the cave, right up against the wall, its opening is blocked by pillows upon pillows. Rhysand's scent leads right to it.

Tamlin tries to hide his smile as he leans in and plucks one pillow out. The rest start to topple, but Tamlin is careful to push them inwards into the nest.

"It seems I have found my thief."

Rhysand's expression is far too cool for someone buried to the neck in Tamlin's clothes.

He's hiding.

That's the problem with faeries like them. The way they were raised—it didn't matter what their natures were. They needed to be exactly what their fathers needed of them. Tamlin needed to be strong and immovable. Soft things were barred from him, even his heart needed to be made of stone. Rhysand needed to be sharp, but not bothersome. He always handles things alone.

Tamlin doesn't ask why he wasn't told or invited to help.

"May I enter?"

Rhysand shrinks into his pile, hiding his face except his watchful violet eyes. "You may," he says without a hint of emotion.

Tamlin crawls into the nest, careful not to squish Rhysand or disturb the hoard of things. Rhysand likes his things in particular order. Tamlin has no preference, so he's happy to adjust to his mate.

"I'm wounded," Tamlin sighs dramatically, taking Rhysand's own words and intonation for when he isn't getting his way. "My mate would rather my things than me and my," he pauses, trying to find a word that only Rhysand would use. "Luscious self?"

"Luscious? I do not say luscious." Rhysand unburies himself to glare at Tamlin. "You were busy."

"And you know that I would drop everything for you, if you told me you were nesting."

"I don't need you to drop everything. I have everything under control." Rhysand's jaw ticks, determined to handle himself. Were they in the Night Court, Rhysand would run his court, nest and make sure that Tamlin doesn't lift a finger because that's just who he is.

Tamlin crawls closer, squishing him purposely this time.

"Then control me," Tamlin leans in, breathing his words against Rhysand's warm lips. "Fit me into your plans. Hoard me like all these things. I am yours," he reminds his mate, kissing him slowly. "Do with me as you please, as long as you're doing it with me."

All this is new to both of them.

Tamlin has always known his dominant Alpha nature, and for his own safety, he had to swallow back his instincts. He wasn't afraid of what his father would do to him, but rather everyone else between them—his brothers, his mother and everyone Tamlin has even glanced at. The battle between Alphas is ugly and violent, especially in the transition of power. At the end, they both knew it was his father's mistake for not killing him at birth.

For Rhysand, Tamlin knows it was the opposite. Suppress, suppress, suppress, was his mantra. Not only did he have to hide, but he needed to deny every instinct within him. At least Tamlin could be a lesser version of himself, but Rhysand…

"You are perfect." Tamlin whispers between kisses. "You are stronger than I am."

"Liar," Rhysand denies.

"You are," Tamlin hums, catching his lower lip between his teeth. "I wouldn't have been able to do this alone. I need you by my side. Also, my den is a lot cozier than it was before. I might have to move out here."

Rhysand rolls his eyes and kicks at him from the layers of stolen clothes. "Flatterer." He says, clearly won over.

Tamlin pushes the clothing aside, snuggles in beside Rhysand and curls at his side, before putting the nest as it was. He says nothing, happy to kiss Rhysand's shoulder and listen to him breathing.

"I want to have a baby," Rhysand says suddenly.

The confession has Tamlin tensing, a reaction that comes from deep within rather than anything to do with actual thoughts. He eases after a moment. "Okay."

"I'm not even sure we'd be good," Rhysand can't even finish the sentence. The shame is visceral. His mother did her best and his father was selective in his affections. He knows how true mates love each other, and he knows how it feels when an Alpha rejects his offspring. It's not that he thinks Tamlin would—Tamlin would be a great father. "I just… With you… I feel ready. My body wants…"

The half-Illyrian flushes, turning to try and bury his face against Tamlin, but they only end up in a more intimate position, foreheads pressed against one another. Tamlin can see the worry on his face. Tamlin kisses them way.

"We will be good parents."

"How do you know?"

"Because we know pain. We know everything not to do."

Tamlin will never raise a hand against his mate or his children. He will never use them as weapons. He will listen when they speak. Everything his mind and body has come to know—all the violence and punishment he has come to expect—he will go against it. He will raise his little ones without fear. They will be free to be happy.

"That's horrible, you know that right?"

"But it's the truth." Tamlin assures, nuzzling Rhysand. "We have all the time in the world. You can over analyze this as much as you need," he teases.

"Oh, fuck you."

The Spring Lord grinds against Rhysand's hip with a playful grin. "Mmm, is that a request?"

#ACOTAR OMEGAVERSE WEEK IS FINALLY HERE #I AM SHYYYYYYYYYYYY DOING SOMETHING NEW #acotaromegaverse2024 #nesting #omegaverse #acotar #tamlin #pro tamlin #rhysand #tamsand #my fics

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nameless-ghoul-trash · 1 year

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Papa emeritus IV X Ghoul!Mom!F!Reader (Part 1)

Ghouls age different than humans. (Y/N) was a perfect example of this fact. Through her many years in the abbey, she was unchanging, compared to her human counterparts. Keeping almost the same unearthly grace and beauty she had the day they were summoned. She has seen so many faces come and go as she remained to same in appearance.

The quintessence ghoul had been around the abbey for as long as anyone could remember. Summoned nearly 7 generations of Papa's ago, by Papa Nihals grandfather. Before even the ghost project ghouls.

Due to this (Y/N) grew to hold humans, and even ghouls, at arms length. Leaving her private life her own. She was also known to rarely take lovers, if any at all. Tired of grieving the losses of companions throughout her time as a part of the ministry. This never stopped her from being kind, though. She took care of everyone around her. Making sure everyone is fed, clean, happy, and healthy. She had earned the nickname "Ma" and "Mama Ghoul" because of her motherly nature. Little does anyone know she is just that, a mom. A mom who misses her kit.

2.7k words

Lightly proof read.

Warning: sodo being a softy?, Cussing

Part 2

You looked around the common area, making a mental checklist of the tasks that needed to be done. Placing your headphones in, you quickly got to work cleaning the areas. You were charged with keeping the ghoul dens clean, tidy, and stocked. It was just one of the many chores you completed daily. While most of the ghouls were out doing their own things, you would care for the dens. Ensuring everyone had a nice place to come to by the end of the day. The dens span over the east wing of the abbey. The different eras of the ghost project having their own spaces and one large den for the rest of the ghouls in the abbey. That's where your room was. You were currently in the den for the Imprea era ghouls. This one being made up of 12 bed rooms, only 8 of which were occupied, a common area, and a small but comfortable kitchen. It is the last ghoul den that needed done for the day.

You make your way around gathering the different "nesting" materials laying in various areas of the room. Folding the blankets, you hang all of them one by one on the blanket ladders. You fallow by placing the pillows in their respective spots and putting the random articles of clothing stung about in the hamper. Wiping down and dusting the needed surfaces, you finish by vacuuming and taking out the trash. Doing a once over of the space, you deem it good enough. Pulling out your headphones, you look over to the clock on the wall. Quarter till noon. Almost lunch time. Turning off all the lights, you make your out into the hall. You would be back later that night. It was your turn to clean up after supper.

Making your way to the dining hall in the larger ghouls den, you grab a light lunch and make your way toward the emptiest table available. You prefer to eat in the ghouls den over the regular dining hall, like most ghouls. Avoiding the crowds and loudness that comes with dining with all the siblings of sin. You avoided them whenever possible. Hearing heavy footsteps approaching, you turn slightly. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a very unpleased looking Sodo making his way towards you. His tail thrashed behind him violently. Reaching the table, he pulls out his chair and throws himself in it, arms crossed, looking straight ahead. If his body language didn't signale that he was pissed, the heat rolling off his body in waves sure did. Blinking at him, you note the ghoulettes, swiss and rain take a seat further down to long table beside Sodo. You also take notice of the absence of two other ghouls that were typically with the group. Turning your attention back to Sodo, you search for an explanation. "Hey, what wrong?" You asked Sodo softy. He looked over to you and seemed ready to explode. "They pulled Aether from the upcoming tour. Ma, the fuck are we supposed to do?" His out burst startled you slightly but you were quick to recover. Sodo retracted into himself trying not to let grief and anger over take him. Casting a glance at the others they seem to be in a similar states of distress. Grabbing onto Sodo, you drug him into a standing position with little to no protest. Nodding for the others to fallow you, you leave your lunch abandoned on the table. Leading them all to you room to avoid unwanted attention. "Where is Aether and Mountain?" You asked, opening your door to let everyone in. "Aether is still with Copia and Sister Imperator. Mountain is probably in the garden. He split off after we left practice." Swiss answered. The taller ghoul did not come to you in search of comfort as often as the others did. You never pushed him to either. He would when he needed it.

Sitting down on the ground in a circle, you had Cumulus to your left and Sodo to your right. Opening the arms, you let him lean into you. You had always had a soft spot for him. He reminded you of your kit in ways. High energy and a quick tongue. Then again, Rain and him shared similar traits to. You had not seen him in so long.

"Okay, tell me what happened." You throw out. Everyone started talking at once, overlapping each others words. "Hey! Okay, one at a time!" You called out. "We were in practice. Everything was fine, but Sister Imperator came in and announced the need for a band meeting." Rain answered first, Cirrus picking up where he left off. "Going on about pulling Aether and summoning a replacement. Blah, blah, blah. We don't need a replacement! Aether is just fine!" She throws her hands up, tail thuding on the floor. "Did Papa know? Was he part of the decision?" You pushed. "I don't think so. He was pretty upset, too." It was Cumulus' turn to answer. The thought pained you a little. You had met Copia in his early twenties, but only getting to learn who he was as a person when he had become Cardinal. He was awkward but had always been kind and did not ask for a lot. He never treated you any different than he did any human. Occasionally, you would run into each other in the garden or in the halls, and he would always take the time to exchange pleantries or take a short walk with you. He had also asked to help if you were working on chores every now and then. You had become quite fond of him. None of that changed even after he became Papa, though you did see him less and less.

"He was trying to talk to Imperator with Aether when we were dismissed." Sodo mumbles into your shoulder. "They can't take Aeth away. I don't understand." Looking down at the fire ghoul, you rubbed his back in a comforting manner. Using some of your quintessence for added affect. "Was it explained why they are replacing him?" You asked. It didn't make much sense to you why they would. Aether is one of Copia's longest standing ghouls. He was also fiercely loyal. They all were. To there Papa and to each other. Everyone stayed quiet for a moments, the tension that had slowly been dissipating started to rise once more. "Sister Imperators' only reasoning was something about the need for someone new. Possibly someone younger." Swiss's words made your blood turned to ice, tail twitching and ears flattening back. You had heard something similar said by Sister Imperator some time ago. It ended with a certain Papa you had considered a close friend dead.

Aether was one of the older one in the group, yes, but they had just introduced Aurora to the band in place of Sunshine for this tour. "I'm going to go talk to Papa. See if I can't figure out more of what's going on." You let a pouting Sodo sit up, getting to your feet. "You guys are free to lounge around in here if you want. I'll be back later." You quickly made her exit, closing the door softly.

------

Sodo looked at the ghouls around him. Ripping his mask off, he flops back with a groan. "This is turning out to be a shit day. And to top it off (Y/N)'s upset now, too." Sodo sounded defeated. Sodo had an attachment to the older ghoul. She had always had a way of calming him and getting him to talk. Always being there to help. Burn a hole in his clothes? No problem, she'll add patches. Have a headache? She'll offer to rub your neck and temples. He had always been able to rely on her. So had all the others. "We should probably go find Mountain and see if Aether is out of the meeting yet." Rain suggested. Everyone grumbles their agreements. Collectively, they stood and made their way to the door, Sodo slipping his mask back on.

------

You had checked the practice room first in hopes of finding Copia. No such luck. You now found your at his office door. Taking a second to breath, you reins in your thoughts. You knew getting attached to anyone would get you in unwanted situations again, but the group had weaseled their way into the spaces of your heart.

With a sigh, you knocked on the door and waited a second for a reply. After hearing a muffled "Enter," you let yourself in. Moving into the office, it smelt heavily of burning incense. Looking around the room, you take in the different details. From the couch to your right to the little trinkets that litter one of his bookshelves on the left. (E/C) eyes finally settled on Copia at his desk. "Oh! Fiore! Please, sit! What brings you here?" He scrambled to clean up his desk and make himself presentable. "I am far from a fragile little flower, Papa." You giggled, taking a seat in the chair placed in front of his desk, tail curling up towards your thigh. Soft eyes take him in. He looks like he'd been crying. His eyes are bloodshot and puffy, and his papal makeup smeared beyond saving. "Not all flowers are, cara, some are deadly and have a bite to them. And please! Call me Copia." He graces you with a soft smile. "Now what brings a bel fiore, such as yourself, to me today?" Sigh softy, you lock eyes with Copia. "Your ghouls came to me about today. What's going on? They are all angry and upset." Copia's faces falls and a sadness seeps deep into his eyes. Slumping back into his chair, he takes a deep breath. "I am assuming you are talking about the Aether situation?" You nod. "Sister is using it as a form of punishment for me. I am not meeting her expectations. This is her way of telling me, "Get your act together."" He says the last part in a mocking manner. A look of shock crosses your face. "I hope she realizes that you are not the only one that she is punishing with this. The entire band will feel this. It will affect them all on an almost catastrophic level! Aether is an important part of the band." A look of desperation falls over his face. "(Y/N), fiore, I am well aware. Ma cosa devo fare? I tried. She would not budge. I realize what is at stake here, but there is only so much I can do!" They both go silent for a couple of moments. Realization settled in the pit the pit of your stomach. He truly had no control over her decisions. Copia rans his gloved hands over his face, smearing the papal paint more. "Is she sending him back to the pit?" You whispered the question.

You half yearned to go back, but afraid of what you would do if the time ever came. You had been in the abbey so long. You would leave so much behind, but what about what you had left in the pit. You were giving up something either way. "Lucifer, no! That is something I would never allow! This could just be temporary. I will figure something out. Sister plans to summon the new ghoul next friday." 9 days from now. You studied him. He looked truly exhausted. "You're going to have to go talk to them." Copia let out a defeated sigh, "I know." "They are devastated." "I know. I know." "So what are you going to do?" He sat in thought at the question. He was good with the ghouls. They were his family, but this was uncharted territory for them all. "Will you help me talk to them?" He seems unsure of himself at his own question. When you didn't answer immediately, he started to ramble, neck and ears turning red. "You don't have to if you don't want to! I just figured the ghouls hold you in a high regard and that -" "I'll help." You cut him off, offering a small smile. "When do you want to do it?" Copia visibly relaxed. He was honestly slightly surprised that you agreed. "After supper tonight? After they have eaten?" Copia suggested. You nodded. "That'll work. I have supper clean up for their den tonight."

Copia smiled at you. "Molto bene! Then it is set! Meet at the den around 6:30?" "That works." Setting his hands on his desk, he is a little more cheerful.

"Now that we have a plan, tell me, il mio fiore, how have you been? Our little chats have grown to be few and far between. I think about you sometimes, though!" His word brings a small blush to your face. "I have been alright, I suppose. Just busy. How have you been, Copia?"

"I have been very busy myself. With all my duties as Papa and now the in coming tour. It's has been quite a lot to handle, but we make due. Sister is not always pleased I have found." Copia quiets at the end. "I will get everything under control, though. I just have to, emmm, figure it all out." He says with what seems to be almost a fained confidence. Like he was trying to convince himself more than you. "You can ask for help, Copia. With all your duties and paperwork." You flick one of the many piles of paper on his desk. "You know that, right? You truly are not alone in this. I'm sure most of us would be willing to step in and help if you just ask." Copia stilled, as if what you said surprised him. "I could never ask anyone to take on my work. Especially on top of everything you all already do." You giggle softly at him. He is so stubborn. "Copia, I'm sure it would be fine. Hell, I'll help you get caught up every night after my chores if you need. You have a lot on your plate right now and have to prepare to welcome a new ghoul into your circle soon. That's not going to be an easy feat. I bet you could get it done in no time if you let people help." Copia took in every word.

The man had always liked you. He had developed a small crush on you in his younger years. He never could quite get over it, but he never acted on it too much, either. The occasional flirty compliment or a small effort to go out of his way to make conversation, but nothing past that. "I suppose you are right. I appreciate the offer, fiore. Truly, but you have much on your plate as well. I will take your advice and look into getting help." You laughed gently. Moving to stand up, you offered a small smile. "I hope you do. I have chores the need finished, so unfortunately, I'm going to cut our time short. Thank you for your time. I'll see you at 6:30." Copia makes his way around the desk and over to the door. "Yes, thank you for coming to me. I will see you then." He opens the door for you. Stopping at in the frame, you look back to him. "Oh, and one more thing." He waits a moment. "They regard you just as high. Don't ever doubt your ghouls." With that, you take your leave. Closing the door, Copia strides back to his desk. Taking a seat, he let out a long breath. He has a lot to think about.

Bel - lovely

Fiore - flower

Cara - dear

Ma cosa devo fare - but what am i to do?

Molto bene - very good

Il mio fiore - my flower

Hello friends! I decided to turn this into a multi part series. I hope you enjoy part 1! I appreciate any feedback as this I my first fic. I am also accepting requests. Thank you for your read!

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mikimakiboo · 2 months

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Muffins

Inspired by @ancientschampionau 's Real Age AU, in which Nightmare loses his corruption and goes back to his six year old form and the gang takes care of him as they all live in a farm (there's more things happening but I ain't gonna spoil lol)

I have already done fanarts, headcanons and comments, all that was left was a fanfiction ! (I think it's the first time I have been so invested in a story) Hope you'll like it and hope I got their personalities right :')

I've been everywhere in your asks and comments lmao I hope I'm not being annoying :')

English still isn't my first language so please excuse the grammatical errors ♡

The moon was high in the sky, it was very late, or very early depending on the point of view, everyone was sleeping, the four adults piled up on each other. Nightmare looked at them before slowly getting out of bed, the small skeleton had a mission and he needed everyone to be asleep. He carefully walked to their pillow nest to grab his giant bat plushie, Batsie he called her, and walked to the bed again, sitting Batsie near the edge in front of the sleeping pile.

- You watch them for me.

He commanded the bat. If anyone saw him talking to the plush he would never hear the end of it. Batsie fell over. Nightmare sat her straight again and put pillows on each side to prevent another fall. Once the bat was secured and after making sure no one woke up the small skeleton left the room, slowly closing the door behind him. He needed to be fast, Horror and Cross usually woke up quite early, he needed to be done by that time.

He could feel the cold floor through his socks, it was an old house, they hadn't install everything yet and for now their only source of heat was the fire place, so Nightmare had to wear socks in and out of bed so he wouldn't get cold.

He went to the kitchen, grabbed a chair and dragged it next to the counter before climbing on it and standing up slowly, he didn't want to fall after all. He grabbed the big cooking book, a gift from Crop as he never used it, and opened it to look through the pages until he found the recipe he was looking for: muffins. He wasn't allowed to help around in the house or with the farm work, everytime he tried they would grab him and put him back in the nest, but he couldn't just stay there and do nothing ! They all worked so hard to protect him, to take care of him and to renovate this house, he felt bad about not doing anything for them in return, so he decided that he had enough, he will bake them muffins and they will enjoy them because he will make them with love ! And chocolate. Cross loves chocolate, so if anyone says anything he could turn to Cross, he will surely stand on his side.

He rolled up his sleeves and gathered everything he needed to bake: two bowls, a whisk, a spoon, muffin molds, flour, sugar, cocoa powder and chocolate chips, baking soda, yogurt, milk, vegetable oil, an egg, and vanilla ! He stopped for a moment to make sure there wasn't any noise coming from the bedroom but all he could hear was silence. All the ingredients were there, good, because climbing up and down the chair was starting to hurt his back, and even if it hurt less thanks to the care Dust was putting into cleaning his wounds he still needed to be careful.

He read the instructions out loud to himself.

- First, mix the dry ingredients in a bowl...

Carefully, he measured his ingredients and put them in his first bowl: flour, sugar, baking soda, chocolate chips and cocoa powder. He looked up.

- Oh, I forgot to heat the oven !

He had seen Horror using it before, so he knew which buttons to turn. The oven biped, making Nightmare flinch and turn to the bedroom, but no one came out. He sighed in relief, he wanted this to be a surprise, if they woke up now and saw him then it wouldn't be a surprise anymore ! Also they might forbid him to finish baking.

He went back to his recipe, now mixing the wet ingredients in the second bowl: the yogurt, the milk, the egg with some parts of the shell that he had to pick out, the oil and the vanilla extract, before adding it to his first bowl and mixing again. He had to take a few breaks, the mix has started to thicken and it was hard stirring it with his little arms. Horror would have done that effortlessly, but the big guy was sleeping and Nightmare didn't want to wake him up for that, he could do it himself ! He was a big boy ! He has lived for five hundred years ! His body and mind got stuck at six though, but still ! He was perfectly capable of baking muffins for his parents gang.

The mixture finally got smooth after ten minutes of stirring to get rid of the lumps, he could now pour it into the molds with the spoon as to not make a mess. He filled each mold equally, opened the oven's door slowly, put on the thick oven mitts and carefully put his molds inside the oven, closing the door again.

- Twenty minutes.

He said, looking at the time on the oven's clock. He had a timer, but he didn't set it because the noise would wake up the others, and he obviously didn't want that to happen.

- Have to clean now.

Everything went well ! The muffins were in the oven and no one woke up ! Now all he had to do was put the dishes in the sink and the ingredients back in the cabinet, easy ! He grabbed everything and put it back in place, feeling proud of himself and very excited to show his surprise to everyone. He grabbed the bag of flour, the last thing on the counter, and got down of the chair. He tripped.

Danger. Something happened. Dust's soul clenched in his chest, waking him up in a jump, his breath fast and eyelights frantically looking around. Horror was under the others, Cross had his head on his chest, Killer was taking all the space as usual, Batsie was sitting at the end of the bed, Nightmare wasn't there. Nightmare wasn't there. Dust looked again, Horror, Cross, Killer, Batsie, no Nightmare. Panic started to take over, where was Nightmare ?!

He jumped out of the bed, looking everywhere in the room, maybe Nightmare was reading in a corner ? But there was no baby in sight. He stormed out of the room, quickly spotted light in the kitchen, and immediately teleported there. What was he doing this early in the kitchen ? Horror wasn't even awake yet !

A mess. Nightmare had made a mess. There was flour everywhere, from the floor to the cabinets and even himself. He sat on his knees, looking at the mess he made. Of course he made a mess. He always made messes. Back in Dreamtale he always made messes, that's why everyone hated him, because he couldn't do anything right, and now he had made a mess again in the kitchen when he was supposed to make his family a gift. He felt... terrible, his soul hurt, his arms hurt and his cheeks burned. They were going to be mad at him, so mad, he knew he didn't have to right to be alone near the kitchenware, it was too dangerous, he could hurt himself, and not only he did just that, but he also made a mess with the flour.

He heard a teleportation noise behind him. Oh. Oh no. He didn't want that, he didn't want to wake them up, it was supposed to be a surprise ! It was supposed to be perfect ! Why did he have to trip and fall ?! Why did he have to be such a good-for-nothing ?!

- Nightmare ! Are you okay ?! What happened, are you hurt ?!

Dust rushed to his side, kneeling in front of him, not caring that he just stepped in the flour, his baby was on the floor, not responding, he couldn't care less about what he stepped in. He quickly but gently made him look up, a hand on Nightmare's chin, looking for scratches, and was deeply relieved to find none.

- What were you doing here ?

He asked, but Nightmare just looked at him, his eyelights and little lips trembling, he sniffed. Dust quickly pulled him against his chest, sitting correctly to put his baby on his lap as he began to sob, grabbing his shirt with his tiny fists.

- It's okay, I'm not mad, I promise.. I'm not gonna yell at you.. I'm just worried..

He gently pat his skull, avoiding his back as he didn't know yet if Nightmare hurt himself there. The small skeleton pressed his face against his chest, he didn't want that to happen... his surprise was ruined now...

Dust looked around them, letting Nightmare calm down at his own pace, he noticed the bag of flour on the ground and the oven turned on with something inside of it. If Nightmare was hungry, why didn't he just grab a snack ? Why didn't he call him or the one of the others ?

- I'm sorry...

Nightmare sniffled. Dust looked down at him.

- What happened.. ?

He asked again, calmly, still peting his skull.

- I wanted t-to make muffins... for-for when you wake up...

He choked on his tears. Dust hated hearing him cry, he hated it so much, he wasn't supposed to cry, he was supposed to be happy, not hurt.

- It-it was supposed t-to be a surprise...

- You should have called us...

- No.. ! I-I wanted to make it myself.. ! You always do everything an-and I never do anything...

He protested. Of course it was the reason. Dust knew Nightmare felt like he needed to do something in return, to thank them, no matter how much they told him he didn't have to he kept insisting. The adult sighed.

- Night.. it's very sweet of you, really, but we are not here because we expect something from you, we are here because we love you, because we care about you, and love isn't something you need to be thankful for..

Nightmare sniffed, wiping off his tears has he listened to Dust. All his life he had been a burden, he just couldn't imagine that a whole group of people got together and collectively decided to unconditionally love him... it was just... too good to be true... they were too good to be true...

- If you wanted muffins we could have baked them together, it would have still been a surprise for the others...

Nightmare simply nodded, looking down. He felt Dust's lips against his head. A kiss.

- Did you hurt yourself.. ?

He nodded again.

- My arms and back hurt...

- Okay, stay here then, I'm going to clean up..

Dust got up with Nightmare to sit him back on the chair, giving him one last pat before grabbing the bag to put it back on the counter, he then took a broom and began cleaning the floor. Nightmare still felt bad, but not quite as bad as a few minutes ago, Dust wasn't mad, he didn't yell, and the others were apparently still sleeping.

Twenty minutes passed.

- I'll take them out.

Dust said before Nightmare even had time to lift his arms. He took the muffins out of the oven and put them on the counter to cool off. It smelled so good, and they looked good too ! Nightmare smiled as he looked at his creation, he was happy.

Now all he had to do was wait for the others to join them and then they could all enjoy some warm muffins made with all the love he had in his little body.

Some things didn't go as planned, but... it was still perfect to him, everything was perfect... and the muffins were delicious !

- the end -

#original post #nightmare sans #dust sans #dreamtale #dreamtale nightmare #passive nightmare sans #dusttale #fanfiction #realageau #deaged nightmare #babybones Nightmare sans #dreamtale fanfic #bad sans poly #bad sans gang #bad sanses #nightmare's gang #dusttale sans

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