#childe x listener
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nissakii · 1 year ago
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[Please use headphones for best experience~] POV: You arrive in the cold region where the snow never melts - Snezhnaya. While your short little journey is slowly coming to an end and you are about to leave a certain Fatui Harbinger runs over with a smile calling out for you. "Comrade! It's nice to see you made your way here. I know you are already leaving but how about one last duel before you go? The duel of ice fishing and seeing Snezhnaya's true beauty!"
❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴀᴍʙɪᴇɴᴄᴇ? 𝕎��𝕪 𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕊𝕖𝕟𝕡𝕒𝕚:    • Senpai ga Uzai Kohai no Hanashi | Way...   𝕀𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕣'𝕤 𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕞:    • Mystic Messenger | Inside the Hacker'...   𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝔸𝕜𝕒𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕚:    • Haikyuu!! | Studying with Akaashi | A...   ℂ𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕜𝕪 | 𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕃𝕒𝕡𝕦𝕥𝕒:    • Studio Ghibli: Castle in the Sky | Di...   ℍ𝕒𝕚𝕜𝕪𝕦!! ℂ𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕊𝕒𝕜𝕦𝕤𝕒: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qChxR... ❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉
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We all know the semi-canonical ‘all the Robins know to hide/duck inside of Batman’s cape, even as adults’ thing.
We also know that Danny ‘is LITERALLY a ghost’ Fenton sucks at remembering his own intangibility while ALSO forgetting to look ahead of him.
All I’m saying is, Danny Fenton (or Phantom, if you’d really like) would absolutely SLAM into Batman on accident while running on roof tops and Bruce ‘Brooding Instinct’ Wayne doesn’t even think twice about letting the kid hide and scanning around for danger before there’s a record scratch of ‘wait who tf is this?’ kicks in.
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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 11 months ago
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COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO
synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most. 
word count; 4.6k
contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues
a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33
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”holy shit!”
the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.
”satoru, it’s too early for this...”
”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes. 
your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.
(snowing.)
with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.
satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks. 
maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth. 
it’s beautiful. 
satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded. 
all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere. 
the first snow of the year.
and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.
there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.
like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.
and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again. 
(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.
and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s really lucky.)
high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.
and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling. 
a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.
he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.
— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.
satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.
(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)
”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.” 
he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.
it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.
so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.
satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.
”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.
”never.”
a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.
a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”
and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.
his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”
his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.
he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face. 
when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.
you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips. 
hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.
satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.
because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs. 
what more could a man want?
”hey, idiots!” 
the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.
”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”
”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.
suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there. 
(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)
with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.
”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.
then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”
satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”
a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”
a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”
and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”
satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.
despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”
”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.
”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”
satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.
suguru sighs.
”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”
his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.
he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot. 
when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.
the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.
(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.
and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)
suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.
when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.
that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.
”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.
satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.” 
but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”
a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”
you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”
a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.
and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word. 
his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.
and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology. 
(i'm sorry, you big baby.)
satoru grins.
you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.
”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”
he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”
”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”
”and don’t play dumb, either.”
a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”
said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown. 
and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.
”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”
satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”
you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”
”hmph.”
suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.
and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again. 
that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.
this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.
(married.)
sometimes he still can’t believe it. 
”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.” 
and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.
and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.
your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.
his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.
(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)
and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.
a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.
and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.
”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”
”— you’re disgusting.”
the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.
and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.
you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.
then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?” 
”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.
silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.
”… santa can only do so much, baby.”
two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.
”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.” 
you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”
”of course not! blasphemy.” 
a moment passes.
”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”
a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.
then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow. 
he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.
and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.
he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice. 
for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?
(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)
— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.
it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.
and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.
warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter. 
he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself. 
and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest. 
he hopes it never goes away.
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starry-bi-sky · 3 months ago
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my martha knight au in a nutshell:
Danny/Martha: see up here?
Danny/Martha: *taps skull*
Danny/Martha: intense psychological damage
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Danny/Martha: *upon finding out she's pregnant*
Danny/Martha: oh my god i cant be a mom, I'm fifteen and homeless--
Danny/Martha: im going to be a terrible mother--
Danny/Martha: i live in a cAR--
Danny/Martha: what if the baby inherits my powers? Oh no--
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Danny/Martha post giving birth: i've only had Bruce for a minute and a half but if anything were to happen to him i won't even need to fuse with Vlad, I'm razing this goddamn planet to the ground myself
Danny, to Baby Bruce: you are the last remaining thread of my sanity. I'm going to give you the world :)
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Danny/Martha prior to getting pregnant: Fuck it, if everything in my life has led to this moment, i'm allowed to make one stupid decision. I'm getting drunk and getting laid
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Danny/Martha while Bruce was a toddler: i swear to fucking god i am going to kill the next person who talks to me--
Bruce: hi mommy!! i brought you something!!!
Danny/Martha, immediately flipping on a dime: hi baby!! what do you have?
Bruce, a weird child like his mother: a spider :)
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Danny/Martha, talking to Falcone after he made an unsavory comment at her and Bruce: If you ever come near me or my son again, I will dig up your shithead father's corpse and make you eat his skin.
Danny/Martha: do you understand me
Falcone:... crystal, ma'am
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Danny/Martha new in Gotham: *getting mugged*
Danny/Martha: *grabs man's arm*
Danny/Martha: I AM GOING TO BREAK YOU IN HALF LIKE A TWIG, FUCK BOY, DO YOU HEAR THE WORDS COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH--
(she then proceeds to terrorize Gotham's night life for the next extended period of time, mostly unintentionally)
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Danny/Martha: Danny Fenton?? No. you must be mistaken, my name is Martha Knight.
Danny/Martha: this here is my littlest knight, Bruce.
Danny/Martha: I made him all by myself :]
#if martha could become the joker in one timeline if bruce died then she had to have SOMETHIGN going on up there mentally. im all for it#im a 'martha wayne may have been secretly batshit' truther. subscribing to bruciemilf's portrayal of the wayne parents#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc#fem danny fenton#female danny fenton#martha knight au#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpxdc au#dp x dc au#dp x dc#giving danny fenton psychological issues since 2022 folks#points at marthadanny: she's a hot mess with unprocessed trauma and psychological prblems. she's hanging on by a thread#LISTEN TO AFTER ALL BY CHRISTINE EBERSOLE THAT SUMS UP MARTHADANNY ENTIRELY#bruce your mom is even crazier than you. how is that possible. her trauma has trauma.#marthadanny: i dont wanna talk about my feelings OR my trauma i want to raise my son. go away#martha: who knew that being a child hero without any support would result in deeply rooted psychological issues and paranoia in spades#marthadanny: im fine (<- experienced liar. is not fine. please god someone restrain her before she claws someone's eyes out)#she has eyebags the size of the savanna and wields red lipstick like a weapon. she's going to rob a rich man blind. she has a baby to feed#what would a mother not do for her child? what heights would a mother not climb.#and you're shaken to your soul with an ache that you cant erase. like the tears you never cried but still keep scrubbing off your face.#there's a pain you cant imagine. the little talk that keeps you wide awake that somehow turns to bold determination that you wont ever make#the same mistake. so you've got to feed your little future and ensure her talent poise and charm might just grow up and save you after all#fun fact bruce and danny's birthdays are exactly one week apart. danny is Feb.12 and Bruce is Feb.19. take that as you will :)
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blueflipflops · 1 year ago
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DP x DC Idea
One day Danny is gonna call Bruce 'fruitloop' and Bruce 'haven't sleep for a week, no thoughts head empty himbo' Wayne would just blurt out "How did you know that I'm bi?!"
They both instantly regret having this conversation.
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that-foul-legacy-lover · 1 year ago
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SAGAU thoughts, let's go
Ajax, an Abyss-touched mortal, who has long been told that his violent nature would never garner favor with the gods, much less the Creator. Childe, whose Harbinger comrades care not for the myths of the Creator, preferring to forge their own path. they tell him, the youngest, to allow the Creator to hate him- if that is the exchange for writing their own destinies, the Fatui will gladly take it.
but for Childe, it hurts to think this way. even more so for Foul Legacy; the Abyssal creatures who only have one salvation, the hands of the all-loving Creator. to hear that the Creator will hate him breaks his heart, Legacy taking over their shared body and curling into a corner to sob, taking comfort in the darkness of Childe's room.
the Creator is never seen nor heard, yet still guards all of Teyvat- which is why it's such a surprise when you end up getting tossed into Mondstadt, ripped away from your familiar world into another. it's still familiar, only not in the way you expect, having seen Teyvat behind a screen all this time. all the characters you know and love seem to be dedicated to worshiping you, praising your grace and power and watching your every move.
it's extremely overwhelming. you just want to befriend your favorite characters- the most beloved of which you can't even find! but you're stubborn and determined above all else, and set out alone to find out where Childe, your favorite DPS, could be hiding.
he shies away when he sees you in the distance, your features familiar from so many books and carvings, but instead of disgusted, you look... excited? he blinks, and suddenly you seem much smaller, Foul Legacy's love for you allowing him to hijack Childe's body for a moment. Legacy yelps and shrinks back further, trying to hide himself to avoid what he assumes must be a scornful glare. but instead he feels gentle hands cupping his cheeks, your soft laughter music to his ears as you greet him.
"Hello, Legacy."
his wings flutter upon hearing your kind voice utter his name, with all the love and affection you can give, and when your arms wrap tightly around his waist he feels like he could sing. your hands move to scritch under his chin, and Foul Legacy croons in delight, allowing himself to melt into your touch, snuggling his masked face into your palms. the taint of the Abyss seems far away, the pain soothed beneath your fingertips as Legacy begins to purr for the first time in his life, holding you, his beloved Creator, close to him.
and you let him, hugging him back, because you adore Childe, Foul Legacy, and the Abyss with all your divine heart.
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restinslices · 10 months ago
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Everything
PJO Show Ares x Child!Reader (no gender specified)
Word count: 2459
Summary: Ares supposedly hates kids, so it’s really strange that he comes when you call. (Do not let the summary fool you, this is not fluff. Based on a dream I had a couple days ago. Warning for possible ooc Ares and brief mentions of abuse. Blink and you’ll miss it type shit)
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“I don't wanna say”, Grover fingers fidgeted with each other as he purposefully avoided eye contact with you. 
“We're friends, right?”
“Of course!”
“Then you have to tell me! You spoke to my father, I gotta know what he said! What was he like? I bet he was really cool! Man, I wish I could've been there and talked to him”, you looked down at your shoes and added more misery to your face than was necessary. It was extremely childish and petty but Grover kept refusing to tell you what your father Ares was like. You had to know though. You doubted he brought you up, but you still wanted to know what he said and what he was like when he was just out and about. Grover had the opportunity to have a long talk with him and that was something you'd kill and suffer for. 
“I doubt you'd wanna do that” he mumbled, but you heard him. 
“Why'd you say that?” You asked. 
Grover refused to expound on what he meant… at first. 
Everyone knew Grover couldn't hold water so it didn't take too much prodding before he spilled his guts. 
The memory replayed in your head more than you'd like to admit, and if it were up to you, you'd no longer be a half blood. 
It made you feel pathetic. Tons of gods- no. All the gods were shitty parents. After all, they had children with mortals and left the children on Earth, knowing they'd be hunted down. Plenty of half bloods died in a gruesome painful way and at a young age. Plenty of gods never claimed their children, even if they made it to Camp Half Blood. But Ares did claim you, so you assumed that that meant he cared for you in some way. He even gifted you with a double sided sword. Surely, he must've loved you. 
You were foolish and you hated how foolish you were. You should've known he didn't care. He left you here with mortals and watched as your home life got worse and worse which was due to multiple factors including a piss poor mother and step family, the aura children of Ares give off that makes people around them experience rage and of course the random monster attacks that your family blamed you for. It was as if they thought you begged Ares to be his child. As if you'd ever do something as stupid as that. 
The rain soaked through your hood, making your hair all wet and gross. You were an idiot. You tried coming home for the school year, thinking maybe your family changed. They said they did. They tended to lie a lot though. You got into a huge fight and stormed out and you were in such a hurry that you completely forgot to grab your pouch full of drachmas and you didn't wanna step another foot in that house. So now here you were, outside with freezing cold hands that couldn't be warmed because your hoodie was soaking and you couldn't call Chiron. Perfect.
You checked your pockets once again, hoping to find something other than the lighter and fruit roll up that was there but alas, nothing magically appeared. You held the two objects in your hand and an idea formed in your mind. 
You could always set the fruit roll up on fire as an offering. You could pray to your father and hope he hears you and sends you something to help. 
No. That's incredibly stupid. Could you even light a fruit roll up on fire? It didn't matter. Not only was that the stupidest offering ever but you refused to pray to him. You'd rather sleep out in the rain then sneak inside when your family was gone to get your shit. 
You put the two objects in your pocket and let your head rest on your knees, exhaustion hitting. It wasn't even physical exhaustion. It was all mental and emotional. Like a leech was sucking on you constantly. Or a vampire. You'd prefer that. At least you'd die quicker. 
The hum of a motorcycle filled your ears, getting closer and closer. Best case scenario, it was a neighbor. Worst case scenario, it was a murderer. Honestly, you'd welcome both. 
The hum stopped and a familiar voice made you look up, “rough night”. 
It was him. Ares. God of war. Father to who knew how many. It was someone you definitely did not want to see… or so you thought. Part of you absolutely despised him now and everything to do with him and wanted to rip him apart. The other part of you though still felt an immense amount of joy when you saw him and you wanted to cling to him like a child clings to its favorite toy. If you were alone, you would've screamed. 
Then a thought crossed your mind. You didn't burn anything. You didn't make an offering. 
“You were going to” he said, seeming to read your mind. 
“Why are you here?” you managed to get out after some time of just staring at him. 
“Why do you think I'm here?” he asked and you could tell by his tone he meant it sarcastically. Like “the reason is so obvious. Stop being stupid”. 
Something about that sarcastic and irritated tone made you think back to what Grover told you. 
“Why don't you like me?” You asked and you hadn't meant to. It was supposed to stay in your head. 
He squinted his eyes at you and looked you up and down, “what?”. 
You could've let it go. You could've said nevermind, thanked him and let him help. You couldn't though. You didn't know when you'd have this chance again (the camp visited them but damn, there was a lot of you) and if you did something to make him not like you, you wanted to fix it. But that wasn't your job, right? Parents are supposed to care for their kids. 
You did that a lot. Your mind juggled opposite thoughts and it drove you insane. This was just the latest bit of juggling you'd been doing. 
“Grover said he spoke to you-”
“Who is Grover?”
“Percy's friend. The satyr”. A look of anger flashed in his eyes. You knew he remembered Percy. You didn't give him time to start yelling about the 12 year old that beat him in a fight. “Grover said that he spoke to you. I asked what it was like and he said that you said that you hate kids. Even your own. And when we visit, it's the worst day of the year. So, I was just wondering why you don't like me. Is it something I've done?”. 
Ares just rolled his eyes and sighed, “you're taking that personal?”. 
“It's kinda hard not to”. 
“I came to take you back to camp, not talk about whatever crisis you're having right now”. 
You didn't know if you were angry because of what he said, or because of his effect on others. Either way, blood started rushing to your head. “I'm not asking for a lot. I'm asking for an answer. A simple answer. Why don't you like me?”
“I don't like any of my kids”
“And that makes it better?” You asked in disbelief. Ares just stared at you, emotion void on his face. 
“Why do you do this? You keep having kids even though you hate them. Why?”. 
“It's not that simple and I don't have to explain anything to you”. You wished he'd show emotion. Any sliver of it. He was too calm, too numb. You'd prefer him yelling at you but nothing seemed to phase him. He was talking to you the same way you'd talk to a toddler. 
“It is incredibly simple. Just stop having sex with mortals. You already have Aphrodite -who is a married woman but whatever-” you rushed the last part. You didn't particularly care for the affairs between the gods. “How could your eyes possibly wander?”. 
Seeing him show a sliver of anger when you mentioned Aphrodite only filled you with more rage. That’s what angered him? That’s what got emotion out of him? “Really? That's what gets you? What about me being drenched?”
“You chose to come out here” he said through gritted teeth. If you knew Aphrodite was the key to him showing any piece of human emotion, you would've brought her up earlier. 
“I didn't choose this!” Your voice rose, “I didn't choose to be abandoned by my father and be stuck with a dysfunctional family for the rest of my life. You should be angry at that, not me mentioning Aphrodite. You should be enraged at the thought of anyone putting their hands on me and your hands should be covered in their blood! That is how it should be”. 
“Believe it or not the gods aren't too keen on the idea of killing mortals”
“But turning them into various objects and ruining their lives when it's a boring Tuesday is ok?”. His face went back to being blank and emotionless and your plan to stop talking was scrapped. You weren't even sure what you wanted. You wanted him to show something besides anger. Sadness? Regret maybe? Just something to show that maybe, just maybe, he cared deep down and regretted leaving you. 
“None of us asked for this. You all just decide to create and leave us. And you hating the people you created is… I don't know. And it's so stupid that I've spent years of my life trying to get you to be proud of me, only for it to be impossible!”. 
“I claimed you didn't I?” he defended himself, but you scoffed. 
“That's the bare minimum dad! That's like saying your kids should be grateful because you feed them!” You were full on screaming by now and you wouldn't have been surprised if a neighbor came out to see what the fuss was about. “I don't even know why I'm having this conversation with you. You probably hate being called 'dad’ and you don't care. You're never gonna get it”
“I try everyday to make you see me and you do everything in your power to not see me. To not see any of us. I would work myself to death for you. I would betray anyone close to me for you. If you asked me to burn down the world for you, I would. If you asked me to extinguish the sun, I'd find a way to because to me… to me you were everything. You are everything”. 
You couldn't tell if your face was wet from the rain, or from tears of sorrow and anger. It could've been both. Your eyes certainly stung and you hated it. You knew you had every right to be frustrated, but you hated how weak it made you feel. The children of Ares weren't supposed to cry. They were supposed to be headstrong and fight their enemies. They were supposed to be fierce warriors capable of bringing armies down to their knees. They were meant to shed blood, not tears. 
You thought for a second you saw an emotion cross his face. You couldn't pinpoint it though. It happened too fast and there was a good chance you were imagining things. 
“You can go. I'd rather sleep in the rain. I wouldn't wanna be even more of a burden” you spat with such venom you didn't know it was possible. Sure, you could have a bit of a temper but this felt different. It wasn't just anger or annoyance. There was a mix of grieving. 
It went silent for awhile, and the adrenaline you felt slowly went down. Reality started to sink in. You just yelled at a god. People who were known to cause destruction for something as small as “I think my shoes are better than yours”. 
“Are you gonna curse me? Or, I don't know, strangle me with my own shoe laces?”. Ares reached into his pocket and you looked away and closed your eyes. You expected to feel a burning sensation. That's what you assumed being cursed was like. A burning sensation and then you'd lose a limb or something. 
All you felt was something land on your lap. You looked down and saw a red pouch with gold string keeping it closed. You looked up at him, but he didn't say anything. You untied the string and opened the pouch and inside laid a pile of drachmas. 
Now he spoke, “call Chiron or whoever else works at that camp. Don't die out here”. 
“You're leaving?” You asked. You didn't know why you were disappointed. You should've been happy. After all, you just went off on him about how shit he was. 
“I have a busy schedule”. You wanted to ask if he'd be seeing the married woman he slept with or another unfortunate mortal, but you figured you pushed your luck enough today. 
“Thanks uhh…” you debated on calling him dad but instead you called him by his name. “Ares”. Then you remembered some gods could be particularly upset when you used their name. “God of war and all those other honorifics”. 
“Yeah” was all he said before he sped off, leaving you alone once again. You didn't know what he was saying “yeah” to but you didn't have enough time to ask and he probably wouldn't even answer. 
You called Chiron and asked to be brought back to camp but you didn't tell him about the conversation you had with Ares. 
You couldn't get the conversation out of your head, even after you showered and laid down to finally get some rest. 
Of course you kept thinking about the conversation and how lucky you were Ares didn't throw you into the street and run you over. 
Another thing stayed on your mind though. 
You didn't give an offering. You were told the gods would listen if you burned something that mattered, like the thickest piece of meat on your plate. You weren't sure they were actually listening and honestly you thought it was a real asshole condition. 
All you had was some stupid candy and you didn't even burn that and the minute you thought about it, he appeared like he was already watching. 
But you doubted he was watching. You doubted he listened to your prayers at all. 
You were one of his children which was something he hated. He'd claim you, possibly send a gift then be done with you. He didn't listen to you anymore. He didn't watch over you anymore. 
It was a coincidence. That's all it was. 
You were sure of it. 
At least, you tried to be. 
This is definitely ooc Ares but YA’LL KNOW I’M A LITTLE FUCKING SLOW! BE PATIENT WITH ME GOTDAMMIT😭 If you saw any errors, no you did not. I already proofread it once and I don’t feel like doing it again like I typically do. It’s 1am. I should be asleep.
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moss-on-trees · 2 years ago
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dp x dc prompt: you're my dad now au
danny goes to the edge of town to brood.
his parents are as hazardous to his safety as ever and jazz keeps calling him from college to convince him to stop being phantom and act like a normal kid. he thinks he deserves the right to vent a little, if only to himself. he doesn't want to bother sam and tucker in the middle of the night again.
"i wish i could have a family i can be honest with. people i wouldn't have to hide injuries from. who would have my back and who would understand i don't patrol in the middle of the night because i want to, but because someone needs to do it," he says with a sigh.
he doesn't notice desiree's out to play until it's too late.
"well, i guess that's one way to get rid of you, ghost boy. your wish is granted!"
and he's teleported right inside the batcave.
well, danny's always been one to roll with the punches.
"hello! it's nice to meet you," he says brightly to a scowling batman. "i guess you're my dad now."
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goldfish-afterhours · 11 months ago
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Genshin Characters as Fairy Tales
Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli, Xiao x Gn!Reader
Type/Genre: Bulleted headcanons, angst/fluff
Warnings: Not all fairy tales have happy endings—major character death
Notes: Man why are fairy tales so sad
Diluc
Cinderella
On the night of your 18th birthday, your father holds a grand masquerade ball, inviting everyone in the kingdom
You, however, had little to no interest in such things. While the party was happening inside, you decided to take a stroll in the gardens
Who knew there would be monsters lurking in the dark that got past the guards?
Before it could devour you, someone sliced its head off with one fell swoop
Standing in front of you was a man with red hair, a black masquerade mask obscuring his eyes
You thanked him and offered him a reward, but he declined. Upon seeing your disappointed expression, he suggested just spending the night talking with him, since he didn’t know anyone at the ball
The two of you sit outside, talking about anything and everything as the night grows later and later
Just as the clock struck twelve, the masked man jumps to his feet, muttering something about how he has to get home
You try to persuade him to stay, or at least tell you his name, but he dashes off so fast you can’t catch up to him
All he left behind was your memory of his soft smile…and a black mask, dropped in the grass
You scour the entire kingdom for him, holding up the mask to every person you meet in hopes you find him, but to no avail
But a crazy idea pops in your head
Deep into the night, you stroll down the main street, unarmed. Just as you expected, a group of hoodlums threaten you, demanding money in exchange for your life
And just as you expected, the man with red hair returns to save you again
For saving your life twice, you insist on giving him a grand reward
You bring him, the son of a deceased and disgraced ex-government official, to the castle, and the two of you live happily ever after <3
“I was afraid you didn’t want to see me again. But putting yourself in danger was much too reckless.”
“That’s how much I wanted to see you again~”
Kaeya
The Little Mermaid
Kaeya, a merman, falls in love with you, a pirate
He’s always swimming beside your ship, listening to you sing with your shipmates of treasure, of good alcohol, of friendship, of love
Gives away his voice to have legs and be with you. He doesn’t want to just listen to your songs—he wants to be the one you sing them to
Cruelly, you fall in love with someone else
His brother, in an attempt to save Kaeya, presents him with a dagger, saying if he is able to kill you then he’ll be able to return to the sea as a merman
But how can Kaeya kill the one he gave up everything for?
How can he even dare imagine hurting the one he loved with his entire being, that he would be willing to walk on glass everyday for?
Throws the dagger into the water. As the sun rises, he watches you, laughing together with your lover, as he melts into seafoam
And as much as it pains him, at least he can see you happy one last time
You don’t see him as he is carried away by the wind
“No matter what…I hope you live happily.”
Childe
Little Red Riding Hood
He’s the Big Bad Wolf, and you’re an herbalist making your deliveries of medicine to your patient in the forest
At first, he’s too nervous to approach you, afraid he would scare you away
But one day, when he sees you shivering from the frosted air, he steels himself enough to offer you his red scarf
The smile you gave him as you wrapped the scarf around yourself was almost enough to heal the years of loneliness from his isolation in the woods
The two of you become friends: Childe shows you all the best spots to pick herbs, and you tell him stories of the outside world
The villagers fear him, a man-eating beast, so he never ventures out of the forest
Childe loves the sound of your voice, and he loved listening to your stories, especially this one story about how the Sun and Moon were lovers in a tragedy, separated in the sky
Protects you from the hostile wild animals in the forest
When the two of you realize you were in love with each other, you made no haste in moving into his cozy cottage
But when the villagers realized their beloved herbalist was in the clutches of the detested wolf, they all swore you had been tricked
They stormed the forest, armed
You come back to your cottage from picking herbs, just in time to see the villagers point a rifle at him
Even with your skills, there is nothing you can do but cradle him in your arms as his blood stains the grass red
“C-Can you finish the rest of the story? I want to know…if the Sun and the Moon ever meet again.”
Zhongli
Sleeping Beauty
In the wild overgrowth once known as the country Liyue, there exists a legend of an almighty god who had fallen into a deep slumber
To save your country, you set out to search for this missing god
The terrain is harsh, overrun with trees and thistles and bushes blocking your every way
But occasionally, you will stumble upon a statue, vines and moss adorning the structure, helping you to believe that perhaps there really was a civilization who lived here in the past
The wild guides you up the cliffs, into a cave where you find a dragon sleeping, his breath slow and shallow
There was something so lonely, so sad about this sleeping dragon, trapped deep in the country of a long-gone civilization, only able to wait for someone to come
You put your hands on the sides of his face, and, as if to reward him for all his years of waiting and to tell him he is no longer alone, you kiss his forehead
The moment you do, his scales scatter away like droplets in a summer rainstorm
You were no longer holding a dragon, but cupping the face of a man
His eyelids fluttered open, revealing amber eyes that glowed like the moon in the darkness of the cave, and you knew you had found your missing god
“Oh…you have found me. How long I’ve been waiting for you.”
Xiao
Beauty and the Beast
With each passing day, Xiao can feel himself transforming more into a monster
The weight of his sins grew heavier and heavier, covering him with ashes and feathers
Soon, there were rumours of a half bird beast flying over the village at night, searching for its next meal
You, an orphan that had been treated as an outcast since birth, was chosen by the villagers to be the sacrifice to quell the beast’s anger and hunger
But after being brought to his decaying castle, Xiao makes it clear he has no interest in eating you
In fact, he gives you free reign in his home, allowing you to go wherever you pleased
At first, he tries to scare you, tries to get you to stay away from him
But when you see him feeding the chipmunks outside, and the songbirds feel safe enough around him to perch on his shoulders, you no longer feel afraid
The two of you slowly warm up to each other. Xiao’s favourite thing to do is listen to you read
When he can’t fall asleep at night from the pain, he asks you to read him stories so he can fall asleep to the sound of your soft voice
You come to realize he’s not a monster but a hurt, scared boy who only wants to wake up from this nightmare he’s been trapped in
The two of you enjoyed your peaceful life together, until one day a hero from your village stormed Xiao’s castle, determined to either save or take vengeance for you
Xiao, who flew over the village every night to make sure no danger came to the villagers, could not bring himself to defend himself from this naive boy
As you hold his still body, you kiss him goodbye
To both you and the hero’s shock, the feathers stabbed into Xiao’s body dispersed, swirling into the sky
The feathers kept flying away until the beast you were holding in your arms became human again
“You’ve awoken me from a terrifying dream. Thank you.”
-
please comment/reblog if you’ve enjoyed! <3
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Bruce regrets sound proofing all his children’s rooms
There are some things parents don’t want to know or hear when it comes to their children and it seemed like a great idea at the time.
That being said, as he looked down at his tired youngest, bottle feeding a baby in a way that seems to be half muscle memory, with a look on his face that can only be encompassed by the sentence “oh shit.”
Bruce was suddenly wondering if he made the right call.
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finemealprompt · 6 months ago
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DP x DC Prompt #91
Jason has been told time and time again by so many that he’s tainted. He’s no longer a hero. He’ll never be a hero again. He’s accepted it. But how is he supposed to turn down a clearly terrified teen who has traveled across the country, stating Jason is the only one who can help his friend.
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impuls1veworm · 1 year ago
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Toji seems like an arrogant, playboy type, but in reality he’d be such a good husband to you. Once this man has truly fallen for you, you’re never getting out of his grasp, not that you’d want to anyway. He’s yours mind, body, and soul. You could jokingly ask to paint his nails and he’d plop down beside you holding his hand out.
You mentioned in passing this one purse you want? It’s on your bed waiting for you a week later. You’re not sure how he got it and you don’t think you want to know.
Not to say there won’t be rocky moments, but Toji makes sure the two of you sit and work it out before the night ends. Happiness wasn’t something he experienced often when he was younger, so now that he has a chance to experience it everyday, he’s not letting it go.
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starch1ldz · 9 months ago
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Spencer Reid would hate modern pop music. Not to the point of outwardly complaining, but he wouldn't like it. So often you'll see character playlists that are just this moments popular songs. (Ie: Apocalypse by Cigarettes after sex, Romantic Homicide by D4vd, Not Allowed by TV Girl, Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys ect ect.) Now thats not to say those songs aren't good, but trying to say Spencer Reid would listen to them is crazy. Spencer "I only listen to classical music" Reid. If he listened to actual music with lyrics I think he'd like older music more. (Frank Sinatra, the smiths, the cure maybe specifically Boys Dont Cry, David Bowie, The smashing pumpkins.) That's not to say of course that he wouldn't like more modern music because I fully think he would like some of it. (Hozier, Djo, Alex G, peach pit, Bastille, Dominic fike.) I just don't think he'd be that into top 40 artists, I think he'd probably find a lot of their music repetitive and annoying. Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.
Spencer playlist
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nelkcats · 1 year ago
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Not everything is what it seems
When Young Justice found Superboy, the heroes began to think, were there other similar places? Were there more cloned heroes? How had it all started?
So they investigated, there wasn't much to salvage from the destroyed place but they managed to trace the plans of the cloning pods to an abandoned mansion in Wisconsin. It appeared to be normal at first glance, although no one had set foot there in a while, that was until they got to the basement.
The basement was a mess, one side was destroyed as if something had exploded, on the other side were notes, capsules and DNA samples, though these were clearly useless, if the files could be trusted. It appeared to be old research, all of this was addressed at the weekly League meeting.
The worst part of it all was learning that the sample did not belong to any of them; what might have seemed like relief turned into torture when they discovered the existence of a "hero" in the past, a young hero who had acted before them all, and about whom no one knew anything. Another concern was a possible clone of said hero on the loose, though they didn't know how to address either issue.
Bruce couldn't get out of his head the image of a scared kid, out there without any support, fighting an evil version of himself. The League's priority was to find that boy immediately, and see if his clone was still active. They had to do something about it.
Most of them ignored Captain Marvel's advice to leave the matter alone, as it had been a long time and they didn't know the current circumstances.
At Amity Park, Danny felt a chill, he had a bad feeling. He decided to ignore it as he continued to scold Dan and Dani for using their powers irresponsibly, he knew the citizens of Amity wouldn't care, but the rest of the world would. Danny feared the world wasn't ready for them.
It really was hard being a single parent, although it didn't bother him, after the initial awkwardness everyone had adjusted and were quite happy.
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tanglepelt · 1 year ago
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Dp x dc short idea 90
Danny befriends a bat. For some reason he ends up staying the night at the manor. The one with an intense security system.
Danny leaves in the middle of the night. No alarms go off. The videos only pick up him leaving the room. In the morning they just find a sticky note on the bed saying he had to leave.
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that-foul-legacy-lover · 1 year ago
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two years. it's been two years since you appeared in Teyvat, the world you're supposedly the Creator of- two years since you were torn away from friends, family, and everything you've ever known to be thrown into a game you liked to play. two years since you woke up in a sunny grass field, the familiar hills of Mondstadt greeting you as you opened your eyes.
two years since you first found yourself under the blade of characters you adored, hatred and fury in their eyes, and they only continued to hunt you when you escaped by the skin of your teeth the first time, then the second, and third.
the first year was terrible, filled with fear and hunger and the thick blood that fell whenever your skin was broken, gleaming an odd golden color- the darkness of life only broken by a chance meeting with one of the most battle hungry people of Teyvat- your favorite Harbinger, the Young Lord Tartaglia
except, he wasn't Tartaglia, at least not his human form. instead you met Foul Legacy, who had been searching for you ever since you arrived, the Abyssal corruption in his blood lowering to a soft hum in your presence, and the way his single eye shone with delight upon seeing you allowed your heart hope, just a little bit.
now arrives the second year you've spent in Teyvat- instinctively you remember the month and day, although not quite the hour, and awaken to Foul Legacy snuggling his face into the crook of your neck, purring and crooning when he sees your eyes slowly blink open. he nudges your hands gently, claws tracing over the innumerable scars you've received whilst being hunted and tracked by nonbelievers- but Foul Legacy knows. he knows who you are, has heard your voice during weekly sparring sessions, and he's determined to protect you.
when he dips his head to press his maw against the back of your hand, you know Tartaglia is there, too.
your smiles are rare, but less so around Foul Legacy, and you give him one now, met with a joyful chirp and a pair of strong arms wrapping around your waist. the first year was terrible- but the second year was bearable. perhaps this year, the third, will be the one where you stop merely surviving in Tevyat and begin to live with Foul Legacy at your side.
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