#be stuck in a random tower

[val-of-the-north]

We never meet Havel the Rock

I know what you might be thinking...

"But we literally fight him in Dark Souls 1!"

And this is what I thought too! But as it turns out this was never the case to begin with. You see, what was localized as "Havel the Rock" in the international release is simply called "ハベルの戦士" in Japanese. This name means "Warrior of Havel". The name can be found here [x] and it's shared with his DS3 counterpart too.

It means this dude...

... was never Havel at all, just one of his many followers.

This also means that this description is completely irrelevant to Havel himself, and simply characterizes this one warrior of his and the (dead) blacksmith friend that we take the key to the tower from.

This notion is also strengthened by the fact he drops the Havel's Ring, which wasn't worn by Havel himself but rather worn by his men to express their faith in him.

However, this leaves us with one question: who the hell was Havel, then? What was he, in fact? Apparently, not even human.

Havel the Rock is known as "岩のような" which means "Rock-like Havel" in Japanese. In DS3, we learn that this title might have been quite literal, as the description of his Greatshield states it is imbued with a power "reminiscent of Havel himself". What does this power do? It turns you to stone for a short while.

So Havel's body was akin to a solid mass of stone. This definitely makes it less likely for him to have been human.

Havel was also a worshipped figure in the era of DS1. He had priests of his own. Whenever he is called "Bishop Havel" in the game, the Japanese version is actually referring to the priests who worship him, like in the description for Great Magic Barrier.

(The Japanese description is taken from this very handy page [x] that compiles dialogues and descriptions with the Chinese and English versions.)

「岩のような」ハベルの司祭に伝えられる奇跡 is more accurately translated to "A miracle taught to priests of Havel the Rock" as opposed to "A miracle of Bishop Havel the Rock".

This means he was a figure worthy of worship, akin to people like Gwynevere, Gwyndolin, Velka and Lloyd. He had to have been part of the Anor Londo pantheon, either as a God himself (after all, the Nameless Blacksmith Deity from which the Titanite Demons originate seemed to have been rock-like too), or one of the Giants (which could also cover important positions in the society of the Gods, like with Hawkeye Gough and Judicator Argo)

Whatever the case, Havel the Rock is not the warrior we face in any game but a rather important god-like figure we never meet. All this confusion could have been avoided had the knight enemy in DS1 been correctly localized as "Havel Warrior" or something like that, lol.

[cheekylittlepupp]

So me n @egooppidum are doing our multiplayer honour mode run and aside of the endless amount of bugs, the most recent one was me receiving HER as a reward from Alfira 😭

So…we knocked out Alfira in act 1 so my durge ass doesn't kill her, just for her to gift me @egooppidum 💀 (the player she had -40 approval with LMFAO)

ALSO FCK YOU LARIAN, I CAN'T ROMANCE MY WIFE MINTHARA BECAUSE SHE BUGGED OUT IN ACT 2 (iwant to cry. Minthy is literally the only companion that I would ditch Astarion for😭)but also I'm currently romancing Gale and...I think im becoming a Gale girlie...ohmygod

[quibbs126]

So I was on a walk and I was thinking more about the undead warrior character I just posted about. And you know what would make a good ingredient for an undead/zombie type Cookie? Mold. I mean, mold can grow on dead things and expired food, so it works for a character being revived after death. So that’s what I’m basing him on

Though I’m not sure if mold grows on cookies. Though I know it grows on bread and fruit, so maybe his original ingredient was one of those. I’m going with fruit, maybe he was originally Hollyberrian

Though I’m not sure what to name him. Mold Cookie seems way too plain, and Moldy Fruit Cookie doesn’t sound particularly intimidating. Another idea I had was Mold Knight Cookie, which I like, but also we already have Knight Cookie and Tea Knight Cookie, I don’t think we really need a third one. So yeah, not sure what to name him

[atrirose]

𝒥 : PLACES THEY LOVE TO KISS — enha

はい bf!enha x f!r . . . 🍵 warning. kissing duh ! + FLUFF ★ seiu msg: wanna get back on to writing stuff soon in the mean time enjoy this! rbs/feedbacks are appreciated

— HEESEUNG LEE

heeseung loves kissing your neck because he knows it gets you hot and bothered, he loves the sudden shocked squeak you let out when he random kisses your neck, he came behind you, gracing his cold lips on your neck “AH what’s wrong with you seung” you turned towards him, your hand on the place he kissed “my lips are cold, i ate ice cream” he said pulling you back “so?”

“so i gotta warm them up” he said as he bit ur neck lightly, kissing it, his breath leaving tingling feels down your spine, something about neck kisses just makes you feel light headed “i know you love it princess” he whispered, his hands roaming around your body as he blabbers like a loser.

— JAY PARK

jay loves kissing your lips, though it very common but for him it is special, he love the feeling of his lips against yours, especially after you put on lipgloss or lipstick “jayyyy i just put it on, look it’s all smeared and on your lips too” you said frustrated as you try to fix your lipstick, “it’s a nice colour i like it on you” he said snaking his hands again around your waist as he turns you around “doesn’t give you an excuse to ruin it, and we have to go or else we will be late to the party” you said resisting his touch as he leaned over again.

“doesn’t matter” he said as his lips moved against yours, his hands around you waist, him teasing your lips by lightly nipping on it, your hands in his hair tousling it.

“we got stuck in the traffic sorry” he said to his friend as you shot him glares, did i forget to tell you that he loves kissing you when you are mad at him? works like a charm, all the anger goes poof.

— JAKE SIM

jake loves to nom on your cheeks , he says it’s like bread. he loves to peck your cheeks at any given moment, or just have his face smooshed by yours, if he could he could live under your skin. jake likes to bite your cheeks while pecking them despite being warned a hundred times to not, but how can you resist his puppy eyes.

sometimes he get this kissing aggression towards you where he just keep on kissing and giggling as you try to escape him “jake too much” you say as he kissed you all over your face, “not enough” he said as he continues smooching your cheeks, biting them “nom, you taste like strawberries” jake hugs you as he calms down, cuddling you.

— SUNGHOON PARK

he loves collarbone kisses, loves to randomly feather kisses around your collarbone while cuddling, exact reason that despite being so tall he like you be a small spoon most of the times, likes to be a princess “hoon it tickles” you said as he pressed kisses, he loves when you wear off shoulder as he gives him easy excess but if not then he just pulls the piece of clothing you are wearing to expose your collarbone, now that has gotten him in trouble when he accidentally rip your clothing’s neckline but that obviously never stopped him.

“i will get you more mmm” he said as he kept kissing you, he loves to inhale the soft and mild scent of your perfume.

— SUNOO KIM

loves to kiss your forehead, to appreciate even the smallest of things you do for him, while that’s very sweet of him and you love it with all your heart, there are times when he likes to annoy you by kissing you after applying your lip tint so now you have kiss mark on your forehead, or kissing it and then telling how small you are.

towers over you sometimes so you look up at him and he can kiss your forehead.

“i got nice scores this time” you told sunoo as he smiles and kisses you forehead “im proud of you love”

— JUNGWON YANG

he likes to kiss your nose, just a little boop to make you laugh, you talking about your day? oh he is so in love, boop, you are cooking? he is drawn in by your beauty, boop, you are just laying around? you look so cute, he can’t believe you are his, boop.

“why do you like kissing my nose so much” he looks at you as he smiles, eyes closing like a cat as he kisses your nose “because you are cute” it’s a way he expresses his love, it’s his way of saying he treasures you and a simple expression of his limitless love for you

— RIKI NISHIMURA

he loves to bury his face in your neck after a long day and kiss your shoulders, just like sunghoon he loves when you wear off shoulder dress or else he just pulls on them, but lucky for him you wear his oversized hoodies all the time so it’s easy to gain excess, sometimes it’s hard to express who he feels, or how much he loves you so he just kisses your shoulder and hope you understand his attempt to say ‘i love you’s’.

“what’s wrong baby” you asked as you played with hair as he buried his face in the crook of your neck “just tired” he said nuzzling “aww poor baby” you said as you kissed his head “you better not tell how act with you” he warned you still kissing your shoulders.

“like a baby? AHH-” your giggles turned into sudden shock as he bites you “oh that left a mark” you smacked him with a pillow as he laughed and dodged it “not tired anymore huh?” you said pouting moving away from him just to get pulled back to his lap “i am” he pecked you “meanie” he snicked at your pouty lips before kissing it.

[sleep-0-deprived]

Feral nights ~! (Woverine x bottom male reader) ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

WC:. 2.7K

Tags: slight knife play(his claws) hair pulling, spit as lube, little to no prep(ass eating is the prep), cabin sex, slight A/B/O dynamics(Logan has ruts) scenting, marking, nesting, feral Logan, age gap (reader is twenty five and Logan is forty four), younger male reader, ass eating, and aftercare ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

A/N this was just a personal smutty one shot for my depraved self after seeing the Hugh Jackman wolverine movies<33

Just moving to a rundown cabin wasn’t your big dream after college to say the least, and here you were a twenty five year old man unpacking boxes from the back of your car and into the little cabin you had bought. Looking over your shoulder across the lake you see another cabin with a man standing outside. One of the main things that stuck out was his excessive body and facial hair, how his hair cut looked like two wolf ears of you squinted from afar, you heard that the cabin across from you was where the wolverine lived but you didn’t think much of it.

Looking away quickly as you scurry off into your cabin trying to not think nothing of the man while you settle into your cabin, the weeks to follow ever since the first glance of eye contact you can’t deny there is tension and what you’re reading as upset from the brooding man but was actually sexual but it’s not your fault he was a hard men to read.

Later that evening you just finished setting up your room, right as you were about to move onto the next part of the cabin to set up you see through your bedroom window Logan outside in his front yard chopping wood in his signature flannel. You stood paralyzed unable to do anything but watch how the older man’s biceps flex when he swings his axe, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows giving a peak of his arm hair making you wonder about what the rest of his body must look like.

Chewing on your bottom lip until he looks up from what he was doing making your eyes meet. You soon close your curtains and get out of view of the window all embarrassed pushing it aside and moving on to the res of your cabin as you go and start setting up more.In the weeks you’ve been in your new cabin after that incident you’ve only ran into him a handful of times in the only grocery store around the small town or when you wave at him from across the lake only returning with a grunt and a little nod before he goes back to chopping wood.

The day went normal, long day and seeming longer nights in this area. That was until you seen from the bedroom window of the cabin, your Logan walking towards yours, confused how he even made it across the lake you walk towards the front door opening it up all confused wearing a random shirt you had designated to nightwear and a pair or pajama pants with a video game character from a random game you played on them.

“Can I help you sir?…” murmuring out as you look up at Logan “I see the way you’ve been lookin at me bub” he grumbles out nearly heaving all pressed to the door frame of your cabin doorway nearly towering you over.

“What?, I didn’t know I was looking at you any sorta way sir…” You speak out almost like you were teeth to convince yourself that, while you haven’t been admittedly looking at him you couldn’t deny you always thought he was attractive, he’ll he was the face that flashed in your head when you reached your climax and you were ashamed of that fact. “Don’t lie bub, I seen how ya look at me through yer window, eyin me up N’ down like that” he speaks unconvinced with his accent peeking through the words he spoke.

“Just tell me what you’re doing here this late sir?” You don’t bother denying further just giving a sigh as you look up at Logan although you never caught his name, you never really spoke enough to ask it. “Logan, just call me that, I’m not your ‘sir’” Logan huffs as you look down at him noticing a bulge throbbing between his muscular thighs making a sticky spot of pre cum in his sweat pants, despite the cold weather he wore a tank top half opened with a flannel jacket you thought only a lumberjack would wear.

“You never answered my question Logan?” You raise a brow trying to seem firmer than you really were when you spoke. His nostrils flare a little when he sees your neck craning up to him making a audible groan leave his lips not waiting any further “always teasin me with them little f’ckin smiles and waves actin like a slut round me” he grabs you up the door behind him in your apartment slammed shut as you feel his face in your neck with his canines nibbling at your Adam’s apple “I wasn’t teasing you I was being a good neighbor—“ your voice cut off by your hand gripping and pulling at his hair making him let out what you thought were growls?

Pulling you all the way through the cabin with him eager to get you in a bed, him in the middle of rut going nearly insane from the smell of you. When he lays you down in the bed you look up at him confused why he was using all the pillows and blankets to surround you like a bird in its nest. “What are you doing?” You manage to speak out looking up at him when you start pulling your pajama pants down kicking them off past your ankles trying not to focus too much on his hairy pecs when he gets undressed “boxers off face down and ass up bub”

“Fine, fine” you muffle out as you roll over onto your stomach planting your knees in the mattress not even bothering to take off your shirt as you shove your face in the pillows wracking one hand back to pull your boxers down for him, your asscheeks exposed with your hole hidden between them making you shiver a little when you feel a rough hand pressed to your ass cheek pulling them apart showing off your pink bud as it winks at him.

Your cheeks reddening when you feel him leaning down his breath hot agaisnt your sensitive furl “don’t go shy on me now bub” he heaves out a little hurrying his face between your cheeks using his tongue eating you out like a starved man moving his jaw with his hands kneeling your ass cheeks til red making your cock press to your lower abdomen making it leak precum.

“Fuck Logan—“ you groan biting agaisnt your pillow making your eye go wide when you feel a sharp sizzle on your hips feeling his claws poking from his knuckles from how tight he gripped hold of your ass not letting you move as his tongue pushes past your rim licking and lapping your inner walls as his canines pinch at your inner asscheeks. “Mh- tastes so f’ckin good bubs”

Logan keeps pinching your asscheeks like a cat pawing at its bed with his claws barely poking from his knuckles poking your hips making shallow scratches while his tongue fucks your hole giving your inner walls a harsh lick. “Lo-gan keep doing that~” a mewl leaves your lips trying to press your thighs together failing as his head keeps them open.

“Hold still f’me” murmuring as his tongue works against you rim having your cock all hard between the bed and your stomach as you bite into the pillows arching your back and pressing your ass further into his face while your hands tug the corner of the sheets. Your hips loosely dripping blood from where his claws cut you, “can’t take it any more bubs” a rigid grunt escapes Logan as his spit runs down your thighs from the way he sloppily ate your ass.

“Fck’me logan~” you whine laying now almost as desperate as he was easing your ass as much as you can arching your back like a cat not even thinking of the pain your tender hips and asscheeks feel “I plan on it..” his hands move off your ass cheeks after delivering each one a harsh slap gripping your hips as he flips you back over on your back pulling the pillow from your mouth “ain’t you so fck’n hard bubs?”he murmurs pulling his sweatpants off revealing no boxers with his cock hard covered in brown pubic hair leaking precum from his tip as he leans down between your thighs pressing his lips on yours practically eating your face off making you feel his beard scratching at your chin.

Your cocks pressed together between both of your stomachs rubbing as he rocks his hips forward in a humping motion kissing you between grunts holding hold of your hips where his claws broke skin “ready fer me?” He huffs out moving his hand down further to your thigh while he lifts one of them up on his hip before hoisting it up on his shoulder making his cock snake between your cheeks nudging your rim teasingly but never pushing in.

“I’m- ready Logan” you nod hazily batting your lashes up at him nosing a little too eagerly hook your other leg around his hip while he slides his hand down your thigh rubbing your ankle with his other hand placed firm on your hip “fck—yer so tight bubs” a pant leaves his lip when he pushes his cock into you with it resting heavy agaisnt your prostate making you arch your back biting on your lip looking up at him “oh—hm!” A moan escaped your throat as you feel his hairy stomach pressed down on your cock while he lays on top of you bending your body in half using his hands to hoist up your other thigh for a better shot at your prostate.

“Fuuck” a long groan escapes Logan’s mouth as he grunts shoveling his face in the side of your neck using his canines to bite at it holding your ankles tightly as he starts to circle his hips fucking you into the sheets making your hand move from the bedsheets to his hair “m—more Logan” you spoke right in his ear all whiny and high pitched with your bud trying to clench tighter around him harshly as your gummy walls heat like a vice around the mutants dick, his teeth marking your skin showing his rut as he grounds his hips into you harshly “like that bub? Hm? Fck’n tell me how my dick feels” he huffs out all animalistic starting to pick his pace up making you dig your nails into his back with your legs bent over his shoulders bouncing and swaying back and forth with the force of his thrusts.

“Feels good Logan!—oh god~” you gasp beneath him your body bent in half under the older mutants weight with the bed in your cabin creaking filling the room with the sound of skin on skin as your ass cheeks get all rosy from the constant abuse his hips give them. “Tight bub, so fck’n tight” he growls right into your neck making your eyes roll back not minding the feral man on top of you as you use one hand clawing his back and the other in his hair feeling his beard in the crook of your neck while he makes out with it messily snapping his hips stretching you open over and over with his cock head assaulting your prostate surely bruising your sensitive bundle of nerves

He reaches his hand off your thighs moving around between them as he holds them around his hips and pulls up your t shirt just watching your pecs bouncing back and forth with his thrusts before he just shoves his face in them and starts sucking at your right nipple groping your left pec as he rapidly thrusts his hips “Fuck look at those tits bubs, so fuckin pretty~”. Logan heaves out rubbing his now sweaty body to yours like a wolf trying to rub its scent on its mate, You have no time to protest his choice of words feeling your thighs tremble and a loud mewl leave your lips when his cock hits your sweet spot straight on making a coil of heat radiate in your stomach straight to your cock as it pulses.

“I’m cl—ose Logan!” You choke out your eyes glossing up as you hold his hair tighter gripping hold of his back for dear life with your thighs now wrapped fully around his hips holding him deep inside yourself as you stare up at the Celine in your cabin feeling his mouth biting at your nipple his large hand groping at the other “cum, cum for me bubs” a rumble falls from his throat pulling his cock fully put before slamming back into you making his claws come out of his knuckles breaking skin on your left pec making a hot sting break through your body pushing you over your edge.

“Hng~! Haah—“ your hand loosens in his hair and on his back losing your grip going totally limp under him letting your vision blur with your tears and bliss as your cock squirts hot semen on Logan’s stomach with a harsh spasm emptying yourself out as the cock inside your ass keeps moving and violating your insides rearranging your guts. Your thighs quivering around him feeling the Wolverine groaning against your chest leaving it as sore as your clawed up hips.

“Right there with ya bub..” panting on top of you with his full bod weight between your thighs while your inner walls clench and unclench around him over and over in aftershock from your own high as he starts thrusting out of pace collapsing on top of you trembling “ga’dd amm baby” he groans not even bothering to pull out wanting you filled up with every essence of him as he lets the molten liquid paint your prostrate “mh so warm-!” A pout coming from you as you reach your hand back down weakly petting at his head feeling your stomach grow all warm from his cum.

“..thanks Fer that bub..” he murmurs out planting a few soft kisses on your swollen nipples then one on the cut his claw like blades made in your skin. “No problem Logan, although I’ll be expecting a date before you fuck me next time” you hazily speak looking down at his face in your chest watching him before you feel him rusting around in the sheets with the best he made earlier half fallen apart from the sex. “I think I can manage that, now where are the rags we needa get’cha you cleaned up” he cracks a rare grin showing off those pearly canines to you making a slight pout when his cock slides out of you leaving your walls trying to clamp around the air, your rim as red as your cheeks all puffy leaking his seed into your sheets.

“Top drawer to the left Logan…” you muffle out trying to adjust yourself in the now empty bed rolling over on your stomach laying with your arms folded under your chin looking as Logan walks still naked grabbing a rag from the bathroom cabinet as you stare the best you can at his muscular thighs and happy trail. “Stop eye fucking me you litter whore” he grumbles out walking back into the room with the wet towel sitting down on the edge of the bed using the damp wash clothe to wipe off the cum from around your rim as it leaked making you shiver at the feeling, his hands working and wiping off the dried droplets of blood from the cuts on your hips.

“Right sorry” You mumble out as you crawl over to him after he throws the rag to your floor discarding it for the night as he grabs you pulling you closer under his arm not mind his underarm hair while you lean your head down into his hairy chest grabbing one of the blankets from his makeshift nest as you curl up in it snuggling with the older mutant while he presses his chin to the top of your head “think we should do this a’gain bubs” he hums with a gravely voice.

[supercutszns]

a place with you; luke castellan

wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)

pairing: luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.

warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.

So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.

When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.

“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.

“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”

You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.

Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.

So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.

Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.

Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?

This time, though, he’s a little worried.

It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.

It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.

There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.

You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.

“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”

You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”

It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”

The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.

Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”

“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”

You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”

He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”

“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”

“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”

“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”

You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”

It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.

Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”

“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.

His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”

I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.

“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”

It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”

He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”

Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”

Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.

Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.

Until you’re claimed.

Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.

He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.

Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.

You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.

But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?

After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.

“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.

You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”

Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.

You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”

When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”

There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.

He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.

“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.

You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”

“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”

It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”

You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”

There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”

Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”

He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”

His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”

He turns back to you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.

“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”

Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”

His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”

It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”

There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”

You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.

He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.

“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”

“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.

He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.

But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.

[flos-obsessivus]

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder"

Introducing my Yandere Prince OC Lilian!

Inspired by Sleeping Beauty and Tangled, please take care of him<3

The beloved prince from the Rosen kingdom, also known as the "Lily of the deep valley"

Blessed with the magic of song and beauty by his fairy godmothers, and cursed by Maleficus to death but was fortunately changed to eternal sleep.

Dreams of being able to get out of the castle and visit other kingdoms, though his parents never let him, as they are too protective of their only child, especially after being blessed when he was little.

Though everyone in the kingdom loves him, nothing made him feel as if he belonged there.

Which caused him to gravitate towards romance books and fairytales

Oh how he dreams to find his knight in shining armour or his true love that will take him far far away from this suffocating kingdom.

The graceful prince, the sweet flower, the blessed child. He is known by many but none see him outside his title and beauty.

But YOU did, YOU saw him for who he is, only YOU saw Lilian behind his beauty and voice, only YOU respected him and his wishes.

YOU, the princes childhood friend and advisor, his first love, his only desire. YOU taught him what it's like to be normal, to not force himself into a role expected by the whole kingdom, to be able to experience love outside obsession...

How stupid of him to expect a knight when his true love holds a pen and not a sword, when his beloved uses words and not iron, when their only protection is a book and not armour.

His parents knew the moment he asked for you as his Advisor, it would be impossible to be rid of you, not when their beloved prince is oh so fixated on you.

So when he got kidnapped by Maleficus, you are sent down by the king and queen to retrieve him alone. As a sacrifice or as bait, you do not have the time to ponder when a large black dragon appears before you, his voice deep and threatening.

As an advisor you are not expected to learn how to fight, so you walked up the stairs to the tower to face Maleficus and tried to talk your way into getting Lilian back.

Unfortunately, you are only human and so weak against a powerful fae, so you got stuck inside the tower with the prince.

Oh well, at least you didn't get killed by Maleficus, you only wish that the rescue would be faster though.

But, it seems like Lilian doesn't mind being stuck with you in the tower, he seems happy to be able to spend time with you without getting cut off by random people.

But uh... It's been a while since you met other humans hasn't it?

[suguann]

✎. you aren’t happy about your roommate’s party until you meet the attractive guy down the hall.

tags. fem!reader, future installments will contain smut, age difference, original characters, college student reader, one-night stands, angst, dirty talk, hurt/comfort, size kink, unplanned pregnancy

featuring. simon

It’s your first semester living off-campus, and Finn is boundlessly enthusiastic about all things that involve cheap liquor and crowded spaces, even more so now that she roped you into being her roommate after promising to split the cost of furnishing an apartment that’s probably too expensive for two undergrads working part-time, low-pay jobs.

You don’t like parties, really. 

Movies and the social connotations surrounding parties have always made them seem like some monumental proverbial chip in your college experience; the real thing, once the bright-eyed shine of trying something new wears off, is more or less a bunch of random people packed into a room like sardines who abate their social awkwardness with alcohol and loud music.

So, no, you can’t exactly say that you enjoy the thought of Finn’s friends (and everyone she hardly smiles at) cramping up your already tiny apartment—especially when one of them is Miller from one of your business classes, who gives you the creeps. 

And leave it to Finn to invite him, anyway.

"Now he knows where I live," you grumble into your bowl of cereal—something probably too sweet and (definitely) full of sugar for breakfast.

Finn shrugs, not at all worried for you, as she pours more sticky orange batter into the hot pan on the stove. "The guy has a crush on you. I think it's cute. And he seems harmless."

“Harmless until I end up in a ditch somewhere.”

You don’t have to see her face to know she’s doing that thing with her mouth whenever you say something she thinks is ridiculous. “If you’d agree to split the Netflix bill, you wouldn’t be stuck watching horror movies. Why do you only own horror movies, again?”

"That's easy for you to say.” You roll your eyes, ignoring her question. “You don’t have to sit by him every week.”

(As if that would ever convince her to change her mind.)

"Ow! Shit!"

You look up right before Finn drops a steaming pancake onto her hand and rushes to the sink to run it under cold water. The mutilated pancake lay forgotten with the others that didn't survive her last several attempts.

"Finn, I think this is unnecessary," you tell her after swallowing a mouthful of cereal. "Can't you do something more practical? Like sticking a note to their door?"

Finn looks up from the sink, her wild, red curls bouncing from the movement. "Oh, come on! Don't chicken out now. I've already made fifteen of these things." She points her pink spatula at the tower of not-quite pumpkin-shaped pancakes on the counter. "Plus, who's going to turn down free food? Now, go put on your costume and hand these out."

You shovel another spoonful of cereal into your mouth, scowling. "I'm not wearing the costume you picked out. It's so...inappropriate."

You’re pretty sure Finn picked out your costume from the dicey sex shop down the street rather than an actual Halloween store—the amount of mesh compared to solid fabric only solidifies the theory.

Finn finally turns the water off and gives you a stern look, amused eyes set under a furrowed brow. "I can find the one you own in the children's section at Costco."

You roll your eyes. "I really don’t feel like flashing my tits to the neighbors while offering them breakfast.”

She grins, wide and teasing. "You have nice tits, though.”

"Yeah, I'm sure the old woman down the hall would love to see her neighbor in the equivalent of a thong and nipple coverings at the start of her day." You don’t think you’d ever be able to look her in the eye again.

"Miss Yado is cool,” Finn says, returning to the stove to continue cooking. “She'll probably just tell you to wear a jacket or something."

You pick up your empty bowl and lean over the counter to put it in the sink. "I didn't know you talked to our neighbors."

Finn shrugs, flipping the pancake in the skillet. "She normally walks her dog while I'm heading to class. I stop to talk to her sometimes when I'm not running late." 

“Oh?”

She shoots you a wry grin over her shoulder. "You'd know the neighbors too if you didn't scowl all the time."

In response, the corners of your mouth tip down. "I don’t scowl."

"Now, would you go change? These are getting cold." 

Several minutes later, you come out of your room wearing the same costume you'd worn the past two years. Finn pouts when she sees you forwent the one she had picked out. However, she doesn’t do more than shake her head and shove a handful of food containers full of pancakes into your hands.

“You’ll be fine. Just remember to smile,” she tells you before the front door closes behind you.

You start on your end of the hall, going door to door and handing out the small containers. The whole time, you’re wondering why Finn couldn’t do this herself, considering you’re hardly a people person as is. Thankfully, nobody seemed too annoyed about being bothered on a Saturday morning—only one neighbor shut the door in your face before you could say anything.

But it’s fine. You’re not going to let it ruin your day. Plus, you only have one person left.

There’s a small pit of nerves in your stomach when you knock this time—half expecting another door to the face. What you don’t expect, however, is the tall and imposing guy who answers.

Who also doesn’t appear to be any less annoyed.

Your mouth opens and closes helplessly, all words stuck to the back of your tongue, watching as stray water droplets drip down from his wet hair and travel down the side of his face before dispersing into the dark stubble lining his jaw.

You stare. And stare. Eyes, most likely, bugging unattractively out of your head.

How did Finn never mention the super hot neighbor who lived six doors down the hall?

He gives you a once-over, and part of you suddenly wishes you’d gone with Finn's costume instead. Only because here, at that moment, you’re willing to admit that maybe the one you have on looks like a six-year-old picked it out—especially when this guy, who is way out of your league, scrutinizes it for a second longer, mostly your frilly crew socks. 

"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice low as if he hasn’t been awake for long.

You blink, mild embarrassment rushing through you from the sudden realization that you’ve been standing there and saying absolutely nothing.

"Hi, um, I'm your neighbor from down the hall. My roommate and I are throwing a Halloween party, and we're inviting people in the building." Annoyance slowly melts off his face.

"Thank you,” heavily tattooed arms cross over his broad chest, and he leans against the door frame (and you definitely don’t stare at how his biceps seem to strain against his black t-shirt). “But I think I'm getting a little old for parties."

The corners of your mouth tip up in what’s the beginning of a smile.

"Okay, sure. You're, what, twenty-five?"

It’s a stupid joke, and for a moment, you panic, afraid he’d been unimpressed, but then his lips quirked slightly. "Not quite. Nice costume. Let me guess, fairy?"

"Witch, actually. I’ve always gone with something more original," you babble and bite your lip before you can say something else.

"It’s cute." 

Cute?

You’re unsure if you should feel elated that he thinks so or self-conscious—that he might be making fun of you—so you settle with a mumbled “thanks.”

"So, what's with the container?" he asks, nodding toward your hands.

"Oh, um, my roommate thought she could bribe people with food to come to the party." Truthfully, it’s to prevent potential complaints from the neighbors, but you decide not to mention that part, although you think he knows by the way the corner of his mouth subtly lifts.

You give him the plastic container and watch as he stares into it with a furrowed brow. "It's a... pancake?"

"Er, yeah. My roommate likes to go above and beyond for everything."

"What's it supposed to be?" he asks, glancing up at you.

"Um, a pumpkin..."

You look between him and the container and find Finn had accidentally mixed up her presentable pancakes with the throwaways. And the pumpkin shape is...well, it isn't.

"Ah, I see," he nods, his slowly drying hair falling onto his forehead. "That makes more sense."

You can’t stop the giggle that bubbles to the surface. "You think you can do better?"

"Yes, actually," he grins back, all cocksure, with a flash of white teeth. "Maybe I’ll bring some over some time."

"I won't tell her you said that." However, you can't wait to rib Finn later.

"Right, it probably wouldn't make a very good first impression." Then he sticks out his free hand, "Simon."

You shyly shake it—ignoring the little skip in your chest at how big his hand is compared to yours—and tell him your name, too.

His eyes flicker down to his watch, and he curses under his breath. "Well, it was nice meeting you. But I have to finish getting ready for work."

Only then do you take note of the tactical pants and heavy boots he’s wearing.

When you meet his gaze again, you find amusement there, and you consider, with a new rush of mortification, that it probably seemed like you’d been openly eyeing his crotch. 

You clear your throat, the back of your neck feeling hot, and you pointedly pretend your voice doesn’t hitch when you breathe a soft, tremulous, "Okay, sure.”

"Tell your roommate I said thanks for breakfast."

"Yeah, I'll tell her. Um, I guess I'll see you around." No longer able to make eye contact with him, you turn away and begin walking (though it’s probably closer to running) toward your door.

And you definitely don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s still standing there.

You spend most of the party hanging out near the front door, quietly hoping Simon might show up—even though it seems unlikely. After all, he did mention that he’s too old for parties, and a small, insecure part of you wonders if it was his polite way of turning you down.

"The guy was running late,” Finn had tried to reassure you. “I'm sure he was thinking about how to beat expressway traffic before the lunch hour rush hit. Not about the crazy lady in a witch costume running away from his door."

That was the initial deciding factor between your witch costume and the one Finn’s been trying to force you into—only so you don’t have to hear another person call you cute just to seem nice.

And leave it to Finn to jump at the opportunity to help you get ready, though she nearly freaked out when you popped into your joint bathroom with an old tube of mascara that you rummaged out of your nightstand.

"Do you know how many germs are probably on that thing?" Finn’s nose scrunched up as she threw it away in the waste bin near the toilet. "Please tell me you haven't used it since you bought it?"

You had rolled your eyes. "Probably not."

Finn sighed, then smiled. "Luckily for you, I own more than a crusty mascara tube." 

You were about to argue, but when Finn told you to sit on the toilet lid with a dangerously sharp liner pen, you’d clenched your jaw instead, unsure what you were more scared of when Finn brought the pen close to your face: that your friend might potentially stab you in the eye or that you’d come out of the bathroom with raccoon eyes.

Thankfully, when Finn finally finished, neither was the case, except the number of looks you’ve been receiving anytime someone stops in the kitchen to get more drinks is something you hadn’t anticipated—especially when one of them happens to be Miller.

You’ve been avoiding him and his overly bare chest from the moment he walked through your front door. It grew more challenging after Finn left your side (the traitor) to talk to a guy you’ve seen her hanging around with on campus a few times. 

And with the apartment feeling smaller than it already is, you’re only option is to blend in with the group hanging around your kitchen island.

You’ll be fine, Finn said.

Right, you think as you adjust the scanty tube top under your mesh shirt, trying to cover more of yourself with what little fabric you have at your disposal, and you wonder if it’s too late to change—

A knock at the door makes you perk up, regardless of how noisy the room is, with eardrum-shattering music and loud college students. You pull it open, expecting to see Simon on the other side, only to be disappointed when it’s one of Finn’s friends and her girlfriend instead.

"Hey, Roma." You realize you probably sound rude and attempt to give them your best smile—which is more or less a grimace.

Roma smooths out her extremely short referee-style dress. "Sorry, we're late! I couldn't remember where you lived. There are way too many blue apartment buildings around here..."

Everything she’s saying goes in one ear and out the other when you spot Simon stepping out of the door to the stairway across the hall. You hold your breath, waiting for him to look up from his phone.

But he keeps walking.

"Uh, yeah," you say distractedly before speeding up the conversation. "Hey, Finn is in the living room, but I'll see you guys inside, okay? I need to do something."

You step around them to catch up to Simon, which you learn isn’t easy in heels. So you call his name, hoping he hears you and smiling when he turns toward you. And you don’t miss how his gaze trails down your body slowly.

It makes something inside you quiver as you nervously play with the short hem of your skirt.

“Hey,” he says, sounding every bit as tired as he looks—his shirt from that morning now wrinkled with bluish hollows under his eyes—though he tries to hide it with what you think is an attempt at a smile.

And your cheeks burn because you feel guilty. 

"Hey," you repeat dumbly. 

Your eyes lower as his smile melts into one of faint amusement at your lack of tact. You fidget, shifting from one foot to the other. Maybe, you think, you should have let him walk into his apartment before you could embarrass yourself further today.  

After a moment, you meet his gaze again. 

"Uh, I just wanted to see if you still wanted to come over…But I imagine you're probably not up for it, so I’ll leave—"

Simon surprises you when he shrugs his shoulders and says, "Sure."

Your mouth gapes, unsure if you heard him correctly. "Wh-what?"

"I just need to shower and change, and then I'll be over. Okay?"

"I... yeah, okay," your nod is shy, trying not to betray eagerness.

A lazy grin stretches across his mouth. "Nice costume, by the way," he disappears into his apartment before he can witness how his words make you flush.

And you walk back to your apartment feeling a little more floaty than when you left.

masterlist

[insomniac-needs-a-fucking-nap]

This has-been consuming me for over a day so I'm foisting it upon you. Suffer as I do.

Anyway the au idea!

Tim is stuck in a life loop.

What is a life loop? What it says on the tin! Ok better explination: it's basically a time loop but the end point of the loop is finicky which means everytime the looper dies they returns to the age they start(think baby or little little kid age).

Back to the au idea-

Tim is stuck in a life loop due to one reason or another Gotham taking pitty or some cursed relic his parents brought home whatever. Bottom line Tim is stuck in a life loop, and he resets to 6-8 (basically, sometime before he started stalking the batfa, which fannon puts at like 9, I think?)

Anyway some changes that happen in this au!

1) while Tim is still smart he's not as genius as fannon and maybe canon puts him as. Instead his smarts all come from having lived the same timeline like 80 different times.

2) he mostly doesn't abuse this power (sometimes he will memorize the stock prices of lexcorp and then steal it from lex and gifts it to kon in a "Please date me" gesture. It only works some of the time.... look after so long he forgets if he's made a bond with kon this "run" so sometimes kon just gets lexcorp gift packaged to him from a stranger. Now if he still gives the stranger a chance and end up actually dating him....that's not your buisness.)

Anyway sometimes he joins the batfam, sometimes he doesn't, sometimes he forgets to and hacks into the system then forgets he's not a part of them yet so the fam just has to deal with this random vigilante that they can't get off their comms, or out of their system...

When Tim sounds like a sarcastic cynical old man it's because he basically is. By "run" like 40 he's also pretty sure he's older than Ra's. Still calls him a geriatric fuck but hey who really blames him.

He's still a disaster bby no matter how many runs he goes through. Constantly forgets the "life changing" events... aka jason's petty Titans Tower attack, Bruce's timeline adventures, his parents' deaths, Damian's existence like 90% of the time, etc. So he does still get blindsighted sometimes

It's also super important to me in this that no one else is in a life loop. Yes Constantine, or raven, or Dr fate could all get him out of it but mehhhhh it's fine, he wants to die if old age at least once before he even starts contemplating that. Also whenever the batfam discovers his a "timetraveler" or stuck in a time loop, to avoid the Conversation™️ He just offs himself and starts a new run full on fuck that shit I'm out style

@brucewaynehater101 , here's that au!

:D

[itz-mfkn-de]

\\ALWAYS YOU//. M.R

warnings— OOC MATTHEO, Im a sucker for toxic boys but I made him extra sweet in his one idk why, uhhh not many tbh, cussing, kissing, smoking, that’s all I think.

summary— Mattheo was your best friend, always had been, but was the title of ‘friend’ enough?

-my first work for Mattheo! I will eventually get a master list going once I get more comfertable posting on here. This is a repost of one of my works on wattpad, just with some tweaks bc that work was olldddd-

You sat against mattheos 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 out of his dorm window.

"You know, some times, I'm worried for you. You just stare at things, it's weird." He snickered  as he took a drag from his cigarette.

You looked at him and scoffed, "Sometimes I'm worried about your lungs, you're bound to get some type of problem with all that's smoking you do." You half-joked, glancing at him.

He rolled his eyes, tilting his head up and blew the smoke out of his mouth.

"Seriously Mattheo, that stuff is absolute horse-shit for your body." You stated, accompanying your words with a sharp glare.

"I don't do it that often, just when I'm stressed." He muttered, taking his feet off of his desk and turning his body to face you.

"What happened to the whole 'I don't give a fuck about anything or anybody but myself' thing?" You said, mocking him to the best of your abilities.

"First of all I don't fucking sound like that," he laughed and squinted at you "second, just stressed about life, nothing in particular." 

You softly chuckled at his reaction. His eyes broke from yours, looking at some papers on his desk. Your eyes, however, never left his frame. You could stare at him for eternity, everything about his face seemed so perfect, almost as if it were meant to be admired.

You soon realized your staring and quickly averted your gaze towards the window again.

"You gonna go to the Yule ball this year?" You broke the silence, you knew Mattheo hated those things, he hated having to be around a shit ton of people and act like he enjoyed their company.

"Probably not." His demeanor changed, his tone became short, almost snappy.

"Oh, I'm probably just gonna go with Becca." You mumbled, knowing that if no guy was to ask you, Becca had your back.

"Hm." He nearly laughed at your remark.

"What? What's so funny?" You asked, looking back at him, his back still facing you.

"Just surprised you aren't going with a random slytherin guy or something." He answered, but the way he had said it has a strange undertone that you weren't sure how to feel about.

"Well I mean I don't know, I haven't been asked yet." You stated truthfully.

"Ah, I see." He murmured, soon after taking another drag of his cigarette.

You felt tension building in the room, suffocating tension. You weighed your options out, but you decided it would be better to give Mattheo some space, for what you were unsure of.

"Well, Becca and Emma told me they wanted to go dress shopping earlier so I think I'm gonna head over there so we can solidify our plans." You announced while picking up your books and putting them in your bag. 

"Bye Mattheo." You said while walking out of his dorm, expecting a response.

You shut the door when you got nothing, you mind raced with the possibilities on what could've caused mattheos strange behavior.

Maybe he'd just had an off day? No that couldnt have been it, he was fine moments before his attitude took a turn. 

Perhaps he was just having mood swings, you wouldn't be surprised with all the trash he puts in his body.

You stuck with that story and walked back to your dorm, which was on the other side of the slytherin tower. 

You reached it, setting your things down, then quickly turned around and nearly raced to your friends dorm.

The second you reached it, You waisted no time to jump on her bed, causing her to jump. 

"Yes, of course you can come into my room unannounced and lay on my bed." Becca said sarcastically. She had been digging through her closet in an attempt to find a dress. 

"Sorry, I just need to vent." You said while propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Go ahead." She sighed and laid her body weight 

"Okay so, there's this guy. He's like my best friend, but.."

She raised her eyes brows, signaling you to continue.

"But I want us to be more, or atleast I see him as more than a friend. I just feel like no matter how hard I try I can't get him to open up, he just.. won't."  You groaned.

"And everytime I get this sliver of hope that I've made progress, he just completely shuts down, leaving me in the dark confused and a little bit heartbroken!" You borderline screamed, your face shoved into her mattress.

"Okay, uh, let's calm down. If he's not showing any signs of being interested maybe you should just, move on- well attempt to at least." Becca stated ,rubbing your back.

You shut your eyes, truly taking in your friends words.  “hey Yknow what will make you feel better?” She nearly jumped with excitement. “Going to look for a dress in town.”

You knew she only had good intentions but the words kept echoing through your head. The thought of keeping Mattheo as a friend hurt, but it seemed to be all you could do at this point without ruining your friendship.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe you needed to accept Mattheo 

was just a friend.

-

All you could think about was the Yule ball. Over the next few weeks the days flew by, the anticipation growing larger with each one passing.

Of course you had been asked by some sweet guy from the Ravenclaw house, and, taking Becca's advice, you said yes.

There was nothing wrong with him, he just..he wasn't him.

You had decided to get ready alone, slipping into a beautiful green dress you and Becca had picked out. You finished your hair and makeup, looking into your vanity mirror.

You felt beautiful.

You smiled softly at how well you had dolled yourself up.

Glancing up at the clock, you rushed out of your dorm room, realizing it was the time you and your date had agreed to meet at the entrance by. 

You walked gracefully through the halls, a large smile adorning your face. Your heels tapped softly against the ground. You neared the entrance, your breath becoming shallow from the nerves. 

Then you saw Becca, she was wearing a beautiful Maroon dress. She looked absolutely breath taking.

"Hey!— oh my gosh." Becca looked at you, her jaw dropping. 

"You look stunning! Like some type of goddess...." She said barely above a whisper.

"Becca! Stop, you can't be talking, I forgot how to breathe the moment I saw you." You hugged her.

You were about to continue praising her and her beauty, but before you could comment you heard someone call your name.

"Y/n..wow.." he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

You turned around to see your date, who was wearing a very clean red and black suit. 

"Oh my gosh hi! Sorry for being a tad late, I lost track of time while getting ready!" You made your way next to your date, not before Becca gave you a sly smile and a push, leaving to go with her specimen she had chose for the night 

"It's okay.., you look amazing." He had said, taking your arm into his. He began to lead you into the ballroom.

"Thank you, I must say, you cleaned up nice." You smiled sweetly at him.

You and him entered the large room full of people, everything was elegant and royal, not a single speck of dust on anything.

You looked around the large room as your date led you down the stairs, you couldn't lie, you felt like a princess. The beautiful architecture of the room, complimented by your stunning dress, felt like something straight out of a fairy tale.

Once you had made it to the bottom of the staircase, you excused yourself away from your date in an attempt to go find Becca again. 

You stumbled past groups of people, many of them were couples having a romantic moment. 

You tried your best not to run into anybody, you dodged dancing bodies and nearly jogged across the dance floor.

You almost missed him.

You almost walked right by him.

You almost could've saved yourself the heartbreak.

But no you saw it—him with some random Hufflepuff girl. 

The way he whispered in her ear, the way she giggled a little too sweetly, everything. 

It all made you wanna cry—or throw up, which one that would be you weren't quite sure about yet. 

"Y/n?" Theodore came beside you and patted your back.

"Theo-Theodore, I thought Mattheo wasn't coming to the dance?" You struggled to get your words out as your eyes darted between the scene before you and Theodore. 

"Oh—uh yeah, he wasn't gonna originally, but some girl asked him and I guess he took a liking to her because usually he just brushes everyone off." Theo answered.

"Oh, I see, I just came to say hello. I'll be on my way now." Before Theodore could argue with your strange behavior you turned your back and walked as quickly as you could back to were your date was. 

You abandoned the idea of going to find Becca, you couldn't accidentally run into Mattheo and his.. friend again.

Instead you decided that distracting yourself with your date would be the best thing for your heart at the moment.

"Hey, sorry , I just saw a friend and got distracted." You said, out of breath.

"Oh. Don't even sweat it, I'm just glad you didn't run away and not come back." He joked, dragging you towards the dance floor. You couldn't help but laugh at his bubbly personality. It was a nice change of speed.

"I hope you like to dance." His hands fell onto your hips, yours made their way to his shoulders.

"I actually hate it." You smiled at him. 

"How unfortunate." Your smile grew when he matched your energy. You nearly forgot what you had seen a couple moments ago.

But alas, you didn't.

You could feel your chest tightening up, the tears bordering you waterline. Just thinking about him touching that girl in any way made you want to breakdown.

"Ex.—excuse me." You tried to excuse yourself as politely as you could. 

You didn't want your date too see you like this, vulnerable, heartbroken.

You urgently walked towards any door in your line of sight. When you finally found one, you ran through it. 

You just couldn't escape him, no matter how hard you tried. He was at every single corner you turned.

You nearly groaned when you saw him propped up over the balcony, smoking of course. 

He hasn't seemed to notice you, still looking out at the stars. 

You couldn't do it anymore, you couldn't spend one more fucking second acting like you weren't in love with him. 

The sad part was you'd rather be his friend than him hate you and be nothing at all. As long as he thought about you, you'd be okay. 

That's what you had been telling yourself, but you couldn't hold onto that lie anymore. 

"Mattheo." You croaked out behind him.

His head shot to the side, looking you dead in the eyes. 

"Angel… what're you doing out here."  He looked back out to the stars, unable to make eye contact. 

"I can't do it anymore."  You said shakily.

He turned his full body around this time, his eyes a dark brown. He blew the smoke out of his mouth, the wind pushing it in the opposite direction.

"I can't keep pretending I don't feel this way.., do you know how hard it was to watch you talk to that girl?" You nearly cried out.

"All the girls you fuck with and then bring them to shit like this, I cant keep lying to myself —wishing that it was me instead of her."

You were on the brink of gasping for air, your head pounded. You couldn't believe you had suppressed these emotions for so long. Every single time you went to Mattheo's dorm, you could barely restrain yourself from kissing him. 

Before you could continue on with your speech 

Mattheo had forced you against the wall. 

His lips met yours in a harsh collision. In an almost immediate reaction, your body responded to his actions, kissing him back with just as much need and hurry.

"You don't get to fucking do that."  He pulled back from your lips, still making sure to keep his face mere inches from yours.

"Every single day, I'd sit there and watch you talk to this new guy, I couldn't do shit about it— I wouldn't let myself do shit about it."

“I knew you deserved so much better than some lousy asshole like me, angel.” His hand held a firm grip on your hips, his other still had its place on the stone wall. 

"It took everything in me not to punch that fucker in the face when I saw him look at you, but I knew you wouldn't want that." You melted beneath his gaze.

His kisses trailed down your jawline.

"During second year, when I went to the dance, I saw you there with Draco, I nearly killed him right after. I couldn't bear to see you with anyone other than myself.. so I wouldn't go, I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it so I never went to another ball again." He gently caressed your cheek with his thumb.

"Until this year." He mumbled softly in between the kisses he was leaving on your neck.

He brought his face back up to yours, his eyes stormy and clouded with something darker than just simple need.

"What'd he say to you? What did he call you?" Mattheo asked with a dark shimmer in his eyes, one you were hoping was just from the moon.

You swallowed harshly, you hadn't realized how dry your mouth truly was. 

"He just said I looked nice—" 

"Nice? You look fucking ravishing. I've never met a girl as beautiful as you, never once in my life seen a girl who could compare anywhere near you...That's why I call you angel you know...,because even if an angel walked by, my eyes would still be glued on you."

His gentle voice tickled your ears, and your cheeks warmed up beneath him.

"You are my angel."

He kissed you again, only this time it was more gentle. His lips held no rush, they were soft and comforting. 

You were the one to pull back this time, smiling sweetly up at him. He pulled you from against the wall, leaving the two of you in the center of the balcony, under the sparkling stars.

"I can't believe we've been friends all these years, and neither of us made a move."

He spun you around under the moon light, the beautiful sky knocking the breath out of you.

"Hey matty..?”You whispered once he had began to hold you in his arms gently.

"Yes angel?" He matched your tone, the sweet nickname you gave him made his chest tighten up.

"I love you." You closed your eyes, shutting them slowly.

"I love you... I always thought I'd never be the type to say that so freely, guess I just needed to meet the right person." He swayed the two of you lightly, finding a rhythm in the midnight winds. 

"Of course it's you... 

It's always been you."

[sacrednova]

Drive me home | Simon "Ghost" Riley | 1

fem!reader | In this story, a young woman mistakenly texts Simon "Ghost" Riley, thinking he's her Uber driver after a wild night out. Despite his gruff, reserved nature, Simon shows up. Contains fake screenshots with texts messages and calls!!!!

Next [2]

It hadn’t been a bad night—she danced, drank, laughed with her friends... But now, she was alone outside the club, searching for that Uber contact her friend had sent, fingers shaking as she tried to type the number correctly.

She nearly let out a dramatic little cry when she checked the time; it was freezing.

The vibrations of her phone in her hand came like a lifeline in the disorienting haze of neon lights, loud music, and a few too many cocktails. She blinked as a new text popped up from “Uber???” Well, that’s what she had saved him as anyway.

She squinted at the message, trying to process the details in her tipsy state. A mask? What kind of Uber driver wore a mask? She brushed it off, assuming he was just another eccentric in this city full of them. But a masked, mysterious stranger in a black truck? Right now, that sounded way better than the alley she was stuck in. Besides, she could take care of herself. Probably.

And then she saw it—a figure lurking across the street, watching her from the shadows, eyes flicking from her to his phone, and then back again. She swallowed, nerves prickling. She tried to ignore the feeling, but it lingered, crawling up her spine.

Suddenly, her fingers flew across the screen.

No reply.

She clenched her phone tighter, looking up and down the empty street, then glanced back at her screen. She could feel the rising urge to text him again and again, each message tinged with a touch more urgency.

Somewhere miles away, Simon glanced at his phone, his thumb hovering over the steering wheel. He’d put himself through hell and back in countless battlefields, facing down horrors most men would never imagine, but this? Being spammed by a random, drunk girl with a barrage of panicked messages? It was almost… comical.

What am I doing? he thought, irritation flickering under his mask. He was almost 40, practically ancient by some standards, and here he was, playing the knight in black armor for some stranger who probably didn’t even know her own last name right now.

Yet there he was, pressing down harder on the gas pedal.

The next text buzzed as he turned a corner.

The words ignited something in him, a familiar protective instinct that refused to let up. He gritted his teeth, eyes narrowing as he watched the road blur past. When he’d agreed to pick her up, it was because he didn’t trust her to make it home in one piece. He could tell she’d been drinking, and he had no patience for the kinds of creeps that lingered around clubs at this hour. But now…now it felt like a mission.

The final turn brought her into view—a small, unsteady figure with her back against a wall, clutching her phone like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to safety. And standing just a few feet away from her was the guy. Tall, with a slick smile and hands shoved in his pockets, like he had all the time in the world to wait her out.

Simon’s truck screeched to a halt, the dark engine purring like a beast as he glared through the windshield. He didn’t even need to get out; the guy’s eyes widened the moment the headlights hit him, and he took a few steps back, muttering something before disappearing into the shadows.

Simon killed the engine and got out, his towering figure partially hidden by the black mask over his face, and for a second, she stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Uh…Uber?” she said with a drunken giggle, half-nervous, half-relieved.

“Get in,” he muttered, shooting her a look as he opened the passenger door.

She clambered in, her expression melting from shock into something warm, a little playful as she buckled herself up. “Mr. Uber Driver… you’re my hero,” she slurred.

He grunted, barely acknowledging her. “Text me like that again, and I might just leave you next time.”

She smiled, eyes heavy-lidded, safe and sound in the passenger seat of his big, black truck.

[This is a first part] [Part two here]

[raysrays]

Hashira boyfriends in Squid Games with You

A/n: I’m sorry this is so random and I’m sure someone’s already done this idea but I just finished season two and I’ve had horrible writers block. Please ignore any grammar or typos.

Hashira men find you stuck in the games with them.

Gyomei Himegima:

* Gyomei agreed to participate in the games. Despite being blind, he successfully got through Red Light, Green Light using his heightened senses and incredible mental stability.

* The games penalties greatly upset Gyomei, he could bare to let you or anyone else get hurt just for something like money.

* He holds your hand most if not all the time. He can’t see, so it reassures him to have you close.

* Voting to leave (X): Gyomei would never want to stay in the games, especially after hearing the screams of those eliminated in the first round.

* He is deeply concerned for your safety. As his lover, you’re his top priority, and he would protect you with unwavering dedication. He is also worried about the others, as he doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt either.

* During nights or just calm moments after the games, he enjoys braiding and playing with your hair, it just gives him something to do and takes his mind off everything.

* Gyomei’s kind and nurturing nature makes him open to alliances. He would be okay with you both befriending other players and he would act as their protector, his sheer size and presence offering a sense of security.

* During the second round of the mini games, Gyomei would effortlessly complete Flying Stone, he’d succeed on the first try thanks to his precision and strength.

* He prays for you both and often meditates with you to keep a level head.

* During the game mingle he would stick to you like glue using his size as an advantage to make sure you both stay together the whole time no matter what number of people was chosen.

* No one dares to mess with you or even approach you recklessly, knowing your boyfriend is a towering, intimidating figure. While gentle at heart, his imposing demeanor keeps trouble at bay.

* Gyomei would undoubtedly join an alliance focused on taking down the creators of the games, determined to put an end to the suffering and injustice. As much as he hates bloodshed, he thinks of you and how unsafe it is for you both to be stuck in there.

“Try not to worry so much my dear, we will be out soon.”

Sanemi Shinzazugawa:

* Once the first game of red light, green light started, he would immediately lock in and make sure you stayed behind him at all times.

* Sanemi would be furious and defiant upon realizing the deadly stakes of the games. He’d see it as a messed up joke at first but quickly adapt, relying on his survival instincts. He’d remain sharp eyed and alert, constantly scanning for threats and potential alliances, though his trust in others would be non-existent.

* Voting to stay (O): Though he was shocked at first, he knows the both of need the money, and he’s so confident in his own abilities he believes he could easily win all while keeping you safe.

* Sanemi’s aggressive and no-nonsense attitude would make him a formidable player. He’d Approach each game with calculated brutality, ensuring the both of you survive.

* Even though the other players refer to him as a “hot head” or “cocky bastard” you know the real sanemi. You can tell deep down he’s scared too.

* During the second round of mini games he had chosen to take on the role of Ddakji, it took him a couple tries because he was so tense but eventually he got it without wasting too much time.

* He would gladly Intimidate competitors who posed a threat, his aura alone warding off most challengers. He isn’t afraid to engage in physical confrontation if necessary, especially if anyone tried to harm you.

* He gives you almost all his food insisting you need to eat more.

* When it comes to you Sanemi’s protective instincts would kick into overdrive. He would protect you from any form of physical harm, even at the risk of his own life.

* If anyone even looks at you in a way he doesn’t like he’s got hands on you immediately not just in a possessive manor, but in a protective one.

* He would make sure to share strategies, ensure you conserved your strength, and keep your spirits up in quieter moments.

* during the game “mingle” Sanemi would keep you close and if for some reason you got separated he would be a wreck until he got his eyes on you again.

* In situations requiring teamwork, Sanemi would rely only on himself and you. He’d distrust alliances, expecting betrayal, but might reluctantly cooperate if the games forced it.

* Sanemi’s temper and blunt demeanor might cause friction, but you would likely be his rock, grounding him in moments of despair or frustration. The chaos of the games might bring out his more vulnerable side, revealing how deeply he cares for his you and how far he’d go to protect you.

“Shut up and stop trying to act tough. I’m not losing you in here, got it?”

Giyu Tomioka:

* During the first game of Red light, green light Giyu would handle this game with calm precision. He’d keep a close eye on you, subtly guiding you with hand signals or quiet encouragement to make sure you both survive.

* Giyu’s initial reaction to the stakes of the games would likely be stoic and measured. He wouldn’t waste time panicking, instead focusing on understanding the rules. His natural wariness would make him suspicious of the organizers and other players, but he’d keep his thoughts to himself, silently observing everyone’s behavior.

* Voting to leave (X): Giyu’s decision during the vote would be to go home, he needed money but not at the risk of losing his life and especially with you here as well. In his mind nothing matters more than you.

* Giyu’s calm and logical demeanor would be his greatest asset. He’d Focus on surviving the games with as little conflict as possible, using his intelligence and foresight to navigate challenges.

* while keeping up this stoic facade he’d take comfort in your small quiet moments. Wether it’s just laying in each others arms for the night or a slight touch as you pass one another on the way to the game hall.

* He’d Avoid drawing attention to himself or to you, preferring that you both try blending into the background and observing the competition.

* He often takes your hand rubbing it in his, you think it’s to calm you down but truthfully it’s to calm himself.

* When the second round of mini games starts Giyu would choose to play gongi he recalls his sister playing it with him when he was younger and he did extremely well.

* Giyu’s devotion to you would shine through in quiet but impactful ways: He’d protect you from emotional and physical stress, ensuring you were prepared for each game and providing reassurance when the tensions grew.

* In physical challenges, he’d act as your personal shield, taking risks to ensure your survival. He’d subtly guide you through the games requiring strategy, using his analytical mind to predict outcomes and plan their moves together.

* in the game “mingle” Giyu and you both trust each other enough to let one another get split up, confident in the other’s ability to group up and stay alive.

* Giyu would also keep a close eye on potential threats, ready to intervene if anyone targeted you or him. While he wouldn’t seek out confrontation, his quiet intensity would be enough to deter most aggressors.

* Though Giyu rarely expresses his emotions openly, the stress of the games and the danger to you would weigh heavily on him. His love for you would serve as both a source of strength and vulnerability, pushing him to make sacrifices he might not otherwise consider. He’d likely blame himself for any close calls or mistakes, but your presence would help him stay grounded.

“Stay vigilant, and be careful who you trust. We have each other, we really don’t need anyone else.”

Iguro Obanai:

* During the first game Obanai’s precise movements and calm demeanor would make this game relatively straightforward for him. He would carefully time his movements, advancing only when the doll’s voice and head movements were predictable. He’d ensure you moved at the same speed as him, keeping you calm and signaling when it was safe to advance. If you struggled, he’d guide you verbally or physically.

* Obanai would likely remain composed but tense, his mistrustful nature making him hyper vigilant. He’d quickly assess the situation, recognizing the seriousness of the games. His immediate focus would be on ensuring your safety while trying to find weaknesses in other players and the game’s structure.

* Against your wishes he’s already sorting out the weak from the strong.

* Voting to stay (O): Like Sanemi, Obanai recalls he’s here for a reason, and that reason is to win money and get out of debt, and he’s confident he can get you both to the end alive.

* Obanai’s sharp intellect, agility, and stealth would make him an great player. He’d approach each game with precision, treating it as a battlefield where strategy and timing were key.

* He insists you sleep in the same bed, he can’t sleep unless you are there with him.

* In the mini games he’d choose to do Gongi, The gongi game’s reliance on timing would be a strong suit for Obanai. He’d use his quick reflexes to scoop and catch the pieces efficiently, keeping control.

* during your chosen mini game he’d keep encouraging you softly, giving subtle touches on your back and shoulder just to let you know he’s there with you.

* He’d keep a low profile, avoiding unnecessary attention and conflicts while carefully observing other players for potential threats.

* He has a sharp tongue, it’s just his nature. Whenever he hears other players say something he finds stupid he can’t help but make a sarcastic remark almost landing him in many fights until you swoop in and break it up.

* His snake companion, Kaburamaru, could provide subtle advantages, like scouting or detecting traps, depending on the game.

* during the game “mingle” He’d struggle to pair with others but would rely on you to help navigate social dynamics. He’d observe players carefully, seeking out those who seemed trustworthy or capable, though he’d approach alliances cautiously.

* Obanai’s devotion to you would drive all his decisions. He’d stay physically close to you during games, positioning himself between you and danger and offer quiet advice or encouragement, helping you remain calm and focused.

* His mistrust of others would mean he’d avoid alliances unless absolutely necessary. Even then, he’d be wary, ensuring that no one could exploit or harm you.

* The games would take a toll on Obanai emotionally. His deep love for you, combined with the high stakes, would amplify his anxiety. He’d likely internalize his fears, appearing stoic outwardly while silently carrying the weight of your survival.

“Stay close to me and don’t go wondering off, we don’t know these people. We can’t trust them.”

Tengen Uzui:

* During the first game, Tengen’s exceptional reflexes would make this game almost effortless for him. He’d move confidently even using the opportunity to scout potential threats among the players. He’d keep you close, making sure you are always behind him and offering encouragement or assistance if you started to feel afraid or discouraged.

* Lays with you in bed and runs his fingers through your hair to calm you down.

* Tengen would unfortunately view the chaos of the games as a flashy spectacle, He’d immediately assess the situation with his usual composure, quickly figuring out strategies to navigate the games.

* While outwardly flamboyant and seemingly unbothered, Tengen would be hyper-focused on analyzing the games and players, ensuring you both stayed ahead.

* He’d hide any fear or anxiety to keep you calm, using his charisma and humor to ease the tension.

* Voting to stay (O): Tengen is a flashy man, and he definitely has the over confidence to think he’s taking all that money home with you both no issue. He insures you he will protect you and that You both are making it out alive.

* When choosing a mini game Tengen goes for spinning top, he thinks it’s simple, and he truthfully just thought the top looked the “most flashy” in his opinion.

* Tengen’s combination of physical strength, strategic thinking, and charm would make him one of the strongest players. His ability to adapt to any situation and use his theatrical personality to manipulate others would set him apart.

* During mingle Tengen’s got a constant hold on you, he would tear people out of a room if it meant keeping you both safe.

* Tengen would ensure your survival above all else, using his strength, speed, and charm to shield you both from danger. His confidence and playful demeanor would help you stay calm and focused, even in the direst situations.

“Don’t cry Angel, I’m a god remember? I’ll keep you safe.”

Kyojuro Rengoku:

* During the first game, Kyojuro’s sharp reflexes and discipline would make this game pretty easy. He’d move confidently, never doubting his ability to stop in time.

* His hand is not leaving your wrist. You will be next to him for this game and all the others.

* Kyojuro is a lover before he’s anything, his whole reason for being here was to make up for all his debt so he could care for you.

* He would genuinely be shocked and angered by the brutality of the games, he’s kind hearted and this all feels so unfair. He’d keep his head up and try to encourage others and protect you at all costs.

* Voting to leave (X): Kyojuro is getting you both out of there. Watching other people die playing games for money is messed up, but you being in there is too much for him.

* Out of the mini games he’s pick Ddakji. Kyojuro’s physical strength and precision would give him an edge. He’d approach the game with enthusiasm, treating it like a test of his skill.

* During Mingle you can forget about splitting up. As stated before he’s always got a hand on you.

* He’d form alliances with trustworthy players, ensuring the both of you were part of a strong group. He’d use his persuasive nature to protect you from being left out or targeted.

* Kyojuro’s combination of physical strength, strategic thinking, and unshakable optimism would make him one of the strongest participants in the games. He’s genuinely kind and would definitely earn allies, while his determination and strength would keep you both safe.

“Stay calm little flame, we are going to be okay. Stay behind me, I’m going to keep you safe.”

[the-californicationist]

Brisance (2/2)

Chapter 01 // Chapter 02

TW: smut, bombs, a random line about boot-worship (?)

Johnny stayed glued to the SAT-NAV screen, tracking his pretty little bombmaker’s every move. She was spending a lot of time on the outskirts of the Kotov bloc, and although none of his scouts had confirmed with a visual, he knew it was a matter of time before they discovered her safehouse. When she eventually found the tracker, the signal went dead, but the damage was done. She’d shown Johnny enough evidence for him to narrow down her base of operations.

So, in the middle of the night, without clearance, he cut out of camp and took one of the TAC-V trucks over to the site. He pulled out all of his stealthiest moves, trying to avoid detection. He was patient, watching for movement, staying hidden in the shadows, waiting for her. 

The snow crunched under his weight, so he slid in tiny steps toward a window in the side of what he thought was her base. It was a run-down lighthouse on the edge of the Urzikstani border with the Mediterranean Sea. There were no resources out here, and it was too small for any of Makarov’s men to use it as a fully-operational base camp, so it was almost completely forgotten. There had even been a dirt road leading to the lighthouse in the past – Johnny could see the old tire marks – but now, it was dark, windy, and uninviting. 

The sergeant peeked his head up over the window sill to peer inside. 

He could see her clearly through the open doorway of the adjacent room, her side profile backlit by a small fire she had going in the middle of the den, bent over her hands, tinkering with some wires. Unfortunately, there were only two ways inside of the building. The base only had one door, but the top of the structure had a hatch that would lead down to the main level. 

Johnny had made it this far, and he wasn’t leaving without some answers. So, he strung up his rope and hook to make a climbing lead. With a little skill, he was able to latch the anchor to one of the railings, and he prayed that it would hold. Then, he began the long walk up the side of the tower, feeling every bit like Gallahad, even if the woman locked inside was no wilting damsel in distress. 

He was breathless and sweaty by the time he made it to the top of the tower, hoisting himself up onto the rusted iron walkway as quietly as he could. Just as he was about to stand up, he heard the tell-tale click of a gun being cocked, and he froze in place, stuck staring into the sea and the wash of stars that glittered above it, his back to the light and the hatch. 

It was silent for a long time, almost too long. Johnny moved to turn his shoulders, but the cold metal of her gun barrel against the nape of his neck stopped him in his tracks. 

“Don’t…” She whispered. 

Even though she didn’t say anything more, he could hear the raw, painful emotion in her voice, her tone revealing her vulnerability.

“Lass, I wasnae g–”

“I should kill you!” She snarled, shoving the gun into his skin even harder, “Why did you come here? I can’t… I won’t let you ruin this for me. Not when I’m so close.”

“Alright, lass. You’re right. Kill me, then,” he said, his voice as serious as the grave he was angling for, and he turned to face her. As he moved, the gunbarrel dragged along the sensitive skin of his neck, leaving behind a red scrape like a lover’s hickey, evidence of her touch. 

For a moment, he thought she would follow through. Her eyes flashed hot and full of anger, she moved the barrel up and under his chin, forcing him to lift his eyes back to the stars, gazing up at Heaven before she delivered him to it. She gritted her teeth, her face twisted with rage, but as he peered back down at her, she was still as pretty as ever, looking like Athena at war, like a valkyrie on the vast battlefield, like Justice herself, wild and vengeful. 

And yet, she didn’t pull the trigger. When his warm hand slowly closed over her cold, trembling one as she clutched the pistol, she didn’t kill him like she said she would. She tried so hard to hold onto that anger, but she couldn’t do it. For whatever reason, she let him live. Johnny didn’t take the gun from her, but he moved it down, freeing his jaw from the bite of the metal. Then, she whispered, 

“I can’t stop.”

“I’m didnae ask you to stop, bonnie,” Johnny took a chance and reached up to touch her cheek, trying to comfort her through what was an unimaginable sort of pain. If Makarov had killed his sisters… “We’ll get that bastard, but you cannae do it alone, hen. Let me help you. Please.”

Her eyes peered deep into his, and within them, a darkness grew and grew, threatening to overtake her like a demon. She grabbed Johnny by his vest and yanked him even closer, her voice barely audible when she hissed,

“I need him to know it was me. I want to be the last thing he sees. For Sorcha.”

“I dinnae care how he dies, lass, but if you do,” Johnny nodded, “Then, let’s craft a wee plan. Perhaps not here on this fuckin’ balcony, but…”

That earned him at least the suggestion of a smile, and her gaze softened as she led him down the hatch and into the spiraling staircase of her lighthouse. Once inside, she reached up to latch the lock, and due to the lack of space, she had to press her chest in to his, arching her body over him and spreading her warmth through his clothes. 

His breath caught in his throat, and when she heard him, she paused, looking into his face to see how he was reacting. She turned to him, examining him like a curator examines a canvas, looking at him up close to see every little brushstroke. Johnny could feel her breath on his neck, and he had to hold back a rumbling moan. 

As she lowered herself down, she did so in a slow, dragging descent, rubbing herself down his chest and belly, testing his resolve. His face was twisted in a grimace, and when her thigh made brief contact with his, she knew why. 

He knew that she could feel his hardon through his canvas trousers, and when she raised her eyebrows in surprise, there was nowhere for him to run. So, he shrugged, explaining himself in a low, deep tone, 

“You look fuckin’ bonnie with a gun in your hand.”

His pretty bombmaker took the compliment, and she breathed with him for a moment. Then, he felt her hand slide around his waist to the front of his crotch, her palm pressed to his straining zipper, massaging the length of him as he stretched down his pant leg.

“I bet I look even better with you in my hand, huh, soldier?”

Soap grunted and lunged forward, catching her wrist to stop her from reaching his sensitive head, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she chuckled, bending to kiss his neck, and she squeezed the fat, lolling body of his prick as tightly as she could. He hissed, trying to back away from her, but she ripped her hand from his grasp and rushed down the stairs away from him, a wild look in her eyes. 

“Hey! Wait,” Johnny called after her, trying to command his tingling legs to pursue. 

He caught her about mid-way down the spiral, and they lost their balance, crashing into each other against the chipping, plaster wall. Johnny sealed his mouth to hers like she was his air, sucking on her lips like she was his sustenance. She was all over him. It felt like she had a thousand hands, all of them pushing and pulling and rubbing and pawing at his skin.

Eventually, Johnny managed to position himself below her in the steps, blocking her escape. They broke their kiss when they found their footing, and she stared into his eyes, that same fire repeated within them but instead of anger, she was fueled by hot lust. 

He watched her, waiting on a cue. She took one step back, raising herself taller than him. Then, another. Now, his face was at her breasts, and she began to unbutton her shirt for him. He let her go at her own pace, one hand on her hip and the other crushing the life out of his cock so that he wouldn’t finish before he started. 

As soon as her pretty tits were exposed, Johnny used both of his hands to rake down her bra until it snapped awkwardly around her belly, and her nipples were revealed to the cool air, tightening from the excitement and the rush. He put his mouth to one of them, suckling sweetly at first before locking eyes with her and biting down hard enough to sting. She cried out, but her hands were locked in his mohawk, fist over fist, tugging him closer, encouraging him to continue. 

Johnny moved to the other one, treating it better than the first, sucking in deep, long rounds of pressure, laving at her peak with his tongue. Then, suddenly, while he was lost in her, she took another step up. Now, his mouth was at her belly button. He gave it the same attention, teasing her with his mouth, kissing and sucking and licking and biting until she squirmed and squealed from the strangeness of his pressure. 

She took one more step, and Johnny was staring at the button fly of her trousers. He peeled apart the canvas, popping each button out of its hole. Each fallen button gave way to the soft pale blue cotton of her panties, covering her puffy mons. With the last button gone, Johnny wasted little time, using his hand to pull her panties down and over her sex, putting her on full display right in front of his face. 

Her scent filled his nose. She was wet, and her musk was warm and heady in the air between his mouth and her body. Johnny took a moment to admire her untrimmed curls, thick and soft as they lay against her swollen flesh. He ran his fingers over the top of her, petting the hair in a downward stroke, feeling it all the way until he reached her lips, over and over, forcing blood to rush to meet his hand with a trembling joy. 

Then, when he heard her sigh, he dipped one finger into the sweet honey that she had made for him, feeling the small pool of its warmth trapped behind her pubic hair, matting it down and hiding it from the cold air of the lighthouse. His mouth was on her then, and she gasped from the feeling. Her hands were back in his scalp, grabbing and scratching him, too wound up to say a word, but needing to tell him to continue his efforts. 

He licked her from her wet, slipping seam all the way up to her belly button in long, rushed licks, attacking her with the softest parts of his mouth, dragging his lips over her like they would paint her skin. Then, he rooted between her folds, pressing until he could feel the turgid rod of her clit, and he began to suck, bobbing his head against her as if it had been a drooling phallus, letting her fuck his mouth with her only rigidity. She hooked her leg over his shoulder and began to grind against his jaw, moving her hips into him in mindless, undulating circles, whimpering and keening in a steady, guttural rhythm. 

Johnny moved his fingers beneath her pussy lips, amazed by her warmth, and twisted his palm into her jeans, stretching her fly wider to accommodate his huge hand. It was a rough shove of fabric and flesh, but eventually, his fingertips found her eager hole and began to delve inside, prodding against her strong walls. When he was deep enough to find the spot that changed the timbre of her cries, he returned to suck at her clit, swirling his tongue through her to make sure he found every last drop.

“John…” She gasped. 

His name on her lips may as well have been a blinding flare for how quickly his eyes darted to hers, answering her call from between her legs. When he saw her face, he knew she was about to come for him, her expression frozen in an unfinished scream, her body trembling, the thigh looped around his shoulder squeezing to make sure he didn’t escape from his position. 

Johnny was lucky enough to feel her orgasm from the inside as well, her cunt clutching his fingers, holding him within her like a greedy little beast, hungry for whatever he would give her. The taste of her slick made him break out into a sweat, his own muscles shuddering from the excitement and the need. 

As she came down from her high, he let her go, slipping out of her gently, moving to stand. But, her boot heel stopped him in his tracks, pressing down on his shoulder to keep him on his knees. He cut his eyes at her, shocked by her challenge. 

She was fondling her breasts in both of her hands, smiling with visceral contentment, enjoying how he was trapped below her, smiling at him like she definitely had his number. 

“Wee demon,” Johnny chuckled, moving his mouth to the ankle of her boot, his lips crawling over the oiled leather like it was her pussy, smearing his spit and her slick all over the shoe. 

She gasped like it pleased her, so he continued, making his way up and over the boot until he came to her calf, scrunching up her pants so he could kiss her skin underneath, licking and sucking on her leg as roguishly as he would her tits. One of her hands found his scalp again and pet him gingerly, rewarding his dogmatic commitment to her pleasure. 

Suddenly, Johnny surged up the stairs, looping both of her legs over his arms and taking her with him, pinning her between his body and the inner wall of the staircase. 

“Fuck!” She grunted. The air rushed out of her lungs, and she tried to get it back. 

While she was stunned, Johnny raked down her trousers just far enough to give himself access, and he began to smear his cockhead against her folds. 

“Suppose you’re used to gettin’ your way, bonnie.”

Her wide eyes were her response, and the slow grind of her hips told him he would be rewarded for this, too. 

“I willnae take what isnae mine to have…” He whispered into her open mouth, breathing nearly as hard as she was.

While she was thinking about his words, both of them were rocking their bodies together, dancing to a silent song stuck in their heads. She smiled at him, and he caught the sinister tone in her voice just a moment too late.

“You can have me,” she showed him a little roll of paper that she had clutched in her fist, dug out of some pocket, crumpled and white like a cloud, “If you can catch me.”

The hiss of a lit match caught his attention, shoving his mind back into a semi-alert state. When the fire from her fingers touched the flash paper, it burned like dragon’s breath, spitting and raging. She’d put a little gunpowder in the roll, and the searing wrath of it startled Soap back away from the wall. He dropped her, but she landed in a crouch, and through the smoke, she shoved her way down the stairs and out of his sight. 

“Cheeky hen,” he laughed, waving the smoke out of his face and turning to race down the steps after her. 

There was a door on the second landing, and he burst through it expecting to find her there with a sly grin, but it was just a storage room. Boxes and boxes of equipment, but not her. He raced down the stairs to the main level and went into hunting mode. He crouched behind the countertop of her makeshift kitchenette, scanning the floor for her boots. As silent as a breath, Johnny slithered his way through the galley, keeping his eyes peeled for movement, trying to ignore his raging length pressing against his fly. 

There were two doors on the east side of the room, one led outside, but the other led to an inner chamber. The inner door was slightly ajar although the room was pitch black. Johnny slowly stepped toward it, shouldering it open as quietly as he could. When his eyes adjusted to the low light of the room, he saw what awaited him. 

His gorgeous little demolitionist was laying atop a huge metal crate made of tightly looped chain link, low and wide like a grand sarcophagus. Inside of the crate, green lights blinked intermittently, each one on its own independent pace, twinkling like stars. She was fully nude, her clothing discarded behind her, stretched out over the metal box, touching herself and moving her body like an invitation. 

“You caught me, soldier,” she purred, rolling another spool of flash paper in her fingers.

“Aye,” Johnny whispered, his hand reaching out for her ankle, pulling her leg up to his mouth to kiss the protruding bone, “But, what is this, lass?”

“A gift,” she sighed, pulling Johnny onto the crate with her, listening to the creaking metal complain about his weight.

Johnny kissed her, slotting himself between her legs and pressing his cock on top of her mons like a promise,

“For who, bonnie?” 

He asked the question like he already knew the answer, but she told him anyway,

“Vladimir Makarov.”

Johnny’s cock was already jerking to be stuffed inside of her, but he ignored it. He could only hear the blood slamming against his ears, rushing through every vein and blazing into his belly. 

They were laying on a giant bomb.

She hooked her legs around his waist and flipped him over, slamming him onto the crate flat on his back.

“Steamin’ Jesus!” Johnny looked below him at the blinking lights, praying that his presence hadn’t disturbed one of the punks or starter coils, “We cannae ju–”

Her hand coiled around his neck, and she applied just enough pressure to stop his words. Johnny let her do it, and his body seemed to take some sort of sick thrill in his compliance, his cock lunging for her as she straddled him. 

She sat up tall, her knees digging into the metal loops of the crate, her pussy rubbing back and forth along the heavy meat of his prick, and her free hand pinching the soft flesh of her breast, hurting herself more than she was hurting him. Her eyes gleamed with mischief, 

“Careful, soldier. Better stay very… very still… I’ll keep you safe, baby.”

Then, she released his throat and slid his cock inside of her hole, her aim true and sure, swallowing him up inside of her core in one smooth drop. Then, she began to grind against him, using his rigid tip to press into her pillowy g-spot, forcing him to feel the heartbreaking texture of her walls, drowning him in her orgasm-seeking revelry. 

“Bonnie,” Soap panted, trying to stay focused lest he lose himself to her magic, “I cannae do this. I… fuck… I cannae stay steady.”

“Shh,” she cooed at him, taking her time as she slowly stuffed all four of her fingers into his mouth, holding onto his bottom jaw to silence him, “You’re the one who wanted to join me, Mr. MacTavish. Now, hold still, or I’ll have to introduce you to my sister.”

Her grinding continued, luscious and sticky, the wet sounds of her cunt loud in the stone-walled room. Johnny tried to look away, tried to concentrate on the fifty-some kilos of Semtex below his arse, but he couldn’t. Not even a bomb could pull his mind from the view of his lover’s plump little body, round and soft and full and warm, all of her curves and edges trembling as she thrust him inside of her, fucking herself with his rod, taking her time with him. 

Johnny could only see her, could only stare at the glistening jewel of her pussy, giving her his thick fingers to rub against, addicted to the noise she made that came from deep inside her chest when he hit the spot she liked. He was almost ashamed at some of the sounds that were emanating from his own mouth. It was all he could do to keep from bucking himself up into her like some wild stag, blind with his rut and horny to the point of self-harm. So, if he couldn’t move, his body released that energy through his lungs, and he was moaning like her paid whore. 

Between all of her sweet, sing-song yeses and oh-my-gods, he was grunting and hollering like he’d been stuck with a knife, the aura of his climax threatening him with every exhale, her pussy pulling his pleasure from him like a water from a well, dipping him in, milking him out, soaking him inside of her. 

“How…” Johnny looked up at her with pleading eyes, “How will I come, bonnie? I cannae help tae move in you. I cannae… Oh, Holy Christ!”

All at once, Johnny grabbed her by the hips and lifted her up, following her with his own, pounding into her as his shoulders tried to stay pinned to the box, pushing down into the crate with all his might as his cock pistoned inside of her, humping her hard enough to leave stinging welts across her thick arse, pumping her full of his come.

She was above him, riding him like a bull, screaming for him, basking in his affections, free like a bird with her arms outstretched in rapture. For a moment, Johnny thought the worst had come over them. He came so hard that his vision flashed, and he imagined her bomb vibrating to life, consuming them both in its predetermined fury, taking him, her, and this godforsaken lighthouse with it. All for naught.

Yet, as he came to, he felt the cold chill of the crate against his skin and knew that he was alive. Only a petite mort had befallen him. His skin was electric, buzzing at every point that she touched as she rubbed his body with her body, letting him lower her back down as gently as he could. 

“Mmm,” she groaned with satisfaction, “Who knew switching sides would be so rewarding?”

“Gonnae have to do somethin’ about that wee death wish you’ve got, lass. Made me come so hard, I thought I’d have to see Peter at the gates with my bloody trousers around my ankles,” Johnny sat up with her still in his arms and slid off of the crate, holding her and looking at her like she had gone completely mad.

She looped her arms and legs around him and threw her head back in laughter,

“Blasting pin isn’t even set, soldier. I can’t bel–”

Before she could finish her sentence, Johnny’s mouth slanted over hers, kissing her as deeply as he could, feeding his tongue into her throat, his movements desperate and full of heat. 

“Shouldnae’ve told me that, hen,” he threatened her as he pulled away for a moment, his eyes darkening, “‘Cause now, you’re mine, and I’ll have you how I like.”

idek yall lol sorry

[flamingpudding]

Ghost Twins: Lost in Gotham

A/N: I finally got my copy of AGIT and it sparked this prompt idea, I might continue on...

"Of all the times why were we thrown into a different dimension…"

"I am not happy about this either, twerp."

Danny gave his body double a scorching glare. Dan only shrugged as he leaned back into the park bench, hiding a chuckle. Even if the situation was dire, it was kind of funny too. Good things had changed so much since he got a human body. Danny had become more of a brother to him than his nemesis or time original, especially since Danny had gotten the crown and was trying to smooth things over for ghosts and humans. Plus he finally understood why Jazz like to tease them so much as her younger siblings. He got to tease his time original / cousin / 'younger' brother now too, well he did see himself as the older one when they could technically pass as twins.

"We are stuck looking like this! Our powers don't work and I can't open a portal, Dan!"

"And what do you want me to do about it? Clockwork is not responding to either of us."

Dan studied Danny who was still pacing in knee-high snow, then looked down at his hand which was smaller than he remembered. He tried reaching out to his ghost powers but nothing responded. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Danny stopping his pacing and looking back at Dan, his voice soft from resignation.

"What is the last thing you remember?"

"It's... nothing." I don't remember what I did last. Why do you ask?"

"It's the same for me. We are stranded for some unknown reason in an entirely different Dimension in six-year-old bodies, with no clue or solution to get home and our ghost powers being all wonky as shit! And clockwork won't react to us yelling his name into the snowstorm we are currently in! At least we are cold-resistant!"

Danny resumed pacing in the snow, kicking random little snow hills he was making with his pacing as he ranted. Dan was watching him from the park bench with a scowl of his own. Both had found themself waking up to each other in a pile of snow in a park that was located in a city they had no idea about, the only thing they had was a green sticky note with the words 'Code Bat: Different Dimension'.

That led to Danny yelling for clockwork into the starting snowstorm. They knew their powers weren't completely gone. Wherever they were they were in a place with a lot of ambient ectoplasm.

"We should look for a way out of the snow twerp. Even with cold resistance, we should stay out here." Dan huffed as he tried to make out the buildings around them outside of the park, Danny instantly stopped pacing tilting his head.

"Where should-"

Both boys yelled in absolute horror as they suddenly got picked up and were carried like a sack of potatoes under the arms of strange guys. Instincts kicked in and the two instantly fought back but the guys carrying them didn't appear to be bothered.

The wind whisked past their ears making hearing anything difficult until they finally got put down next to each other. Instantly Dan took half a step before Danny, glaring at the ones that abducted them from a park. "Who the fuck are you, guys?!"

"Language kid. And I should be asking what the fuck you little kids were doing out in the middle of the worst Snowstorm Gotham had in a long time?" The guy in a red helmet said towering over them with crossed arms. "I know you street rats are smarter than staying out in the open like this. Don't you kids have a shelter?"

Street Rats? Okay, so what if their clothes looked a little ratty? Hold a second. Danny and Dan looked at each other briefly as if for the first time noticing how worn the clothes they had looked compared to what they were used to wearing. Great so not only were they in twin six-year-old bodies but also wearing such worn-out clothes that people saw them as street rats.

"None of your fucking business." Dan retorted, the fun of the situation now gone and anger and frustration settling in as he glared at their abductors. Danny on the other hand tilted his head miming the confused child as he stared up at them.

"We got lost."

"You got lost?" The other guy in blue with a mask asked them unbelieving and Danny only nodded.

"Yup, we got lost."

Dan watched how the two adults playing dress up exchanged glances. He peaked back at Danny and then back at them. Before making a probably short-sighted decision.

"Fuck this!" He said out loud and grabbed his twin's hand. Once more he reached for his ghost core and powers, internally yelling at it to get a response. And it worked, sort of.

He felt intangibility wash over them so he attempted to escape by phasing him and Danny through the ground only… to get halfway stuck as the old on his ghostly powers got lost. Dan's eye twitched as he realized he was stuck in the ground up to his tights.

"Dan what the fuck?!" Danny who was now stuck knee-deep into the floor yelled.

"I was at least attempting to escape!"

"We are stuck now! This is even worse! You could have just let me talk our way out of this!"

"Oh hell no. I remember the others saying often enough that you should not do the talking!"

"Phasing us through the floor is not better at all! Our powers are wonky or did you forget that?!"

While the twin boy's where fighting Nightwing and Red Hood exchanged worried glances.

"Hood…"

"Yea… Probably Meta Twins on the run."

"I will contact the others."

[11cupids-tarot11]

Late night conversations with your future spouse.

1 -> 2

How do guys feel about the name "Love Bugs"? I've been considering calling you guys that, I think it's cute 🥹 I want to do something cool with it in the future- stay tuned guys!

In honor of reaching 100 followers I want to do something special! I want to do a follower's request! So comment down below, message me privately if you want, whichever way you prefer! This will still be a general reading for everyone, but I'm excited to see what cool and unique topics you guys can come up with!

Take care!!

- Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

I'm open for private readings! DM me!

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Tips appreciated!

Love y'all!

- Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

Pile 1- Four of coins, The hierophant in reverse, The world, Eight of swords, The sun, Queen of wands, Five of cups.

You guys will talk about the future a lot! You guys will like talking about planning, how to save more or trips, dream vacations. Just your dream life together.

This is a moment when both of you can be in pure silence even and just enjoy each other's company, you both could have busy schedules so making time for each other might be a little rough, but at night time it's y'all little bonding moment basically.

I'm hearing something about not having to really use your brain as much lol. Maybe someone works in a field that requires them to think a lot or it's very mentally challenging or even draining so they get to finally be at rest as well, the conversations will always be light hearted and just lots of laughter and child-like energy here because neither of you really want to take this moment that serious. I'm also seeing you guys could opt for doing other activities instead of talking, like watching a movie and for some of you your person took it to a 18+ level lol.

You guys will really like to talk about how much you want to explore together, where you want to go, I think this person wants to give you the world so you'll be thinking this is just random playful talk but he'll bring it up again when the moment is right to make these dreams and talks come to life!

If you guys have had a bad or gloomy day they'll wanna talk about it so they don't feel so stuck in bad energy, they really don't want to carry it on till the next day so they'd rather talk and get all of the negative things out of the way so you both can sleep peacefully.

You both love talking to each other a lot, about everything and there's no judgement here, you guys could even fall asleep mid way sometimes because I'm seeing you one of you will be so tired (I think it's definitely from a tiring job or schedule, weekday nights will be a lot different than weekend's, weekend will definitely be longer, you guys will talk more or do more activities together because that's y'all's little bonding time! Cute 🥹.

Your person will love hearing about your day! They'll want you to tell them about everything you did. They're definitely the type to ask how your day was, they genuinely care too, they're not asking just to make conversation they'll really want you to go into details! They'll want to emotionally support you through thick and thin.

Random, but someone has a six pack? They might be shirtless a lot too lmao.

You guys will definitely use this as a moment as well to talk about anything within the relationship that you want to work on, I don't think your person appreciates toxicity so they try to eliminate as much as possible, if there is a problem or they've noticed you've been grumpy all day they'll want to discuss in details before bed, this person really hates going to sleep with low vibrations not only for themselves but for the both of you, they think you both deserve a happy good night's sleep! Adorable! 🩵

I hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to do the poll at the bottom and I'll see you later! 💖

Pile 2- Four of wands, Ten of cups reversed, Knight of cups, The tower reversed, Three of coins and The wheel of fortune.

So this person is kinda dramatic lol. I think by the end of the day they're really tired and some days aren't able to stay up like they wish. They say they feel like a zombie some days :(

They'll still be very expressive with you, they'll explain this. They don't want you to think they're making up excuses or don't want to spend time with you or anything. I'm seeing this might be part of the late night conversation, they'll tell you exactly how they're feeling and why. This is only for certain days, it will not always be like this energy.

I think your person's kinda flirty though? Like they're keep you laughing for sure, they have a lot of passion and just like to be near you at night! You guys could end up just cuddling and sitting in silence without even realizing you're both falling asleep. It's very comfortable energy, you'll feel so good cuddling up with this person you guys might just forget about the conversation at hand and drift off, freaking adorable!

This person loves how calm everything feels with you at night, everything's peaceful and they can just relax and let loose, sleep to their hearts content. I think this pile just might really like sleeping? There could've been a thing one of you had trouble sleeping before getting together, it could just be your person's energy but take it how it resonates!! But now whoever had trouble sleeping before can sleep so peacefully so it's their favorite thing to do, you guys can't wait to get in bed to get all nice and warm and get a good night's sleep.

Maybe they'll ask you questions about what you did all day, they'll check up on you, use this as a time to get insight on you I'm hearing.

They'll want to tell you about the wacky things that happened to them out of the blue, if something funny, crazy or even slightly out of normal happens they just have to tell you! They'll gossip a lot, tell you everything! Like best friends at a sleepover.

I hope you enjoyed!! Don't forget to do the poll below, see you soon! 💕