#even if it is nice to behold it is not art

[theragamuffininitiative]

I support the nuanced and varied debates against ai art from now til kingdom come, but by far my favorite one to use is extremely basic and simple and I will always always refer back to it so here you go:

Art is the expression of the human experience and you can't generate that.

[foolsocracy]

I can't help but notice you haven't posted any angst in a while and I'm suspicious

whipped this one up just for u anon

[hella1975]

hella idk what to send to you for aftg im either bored or annoyed and I don't wanna just say bad things about it 😭 like that's just rude and yall obviously like it I DONT WANNA BE SOME DEBBY DOWNER MDMWKEM

I looked at the anti aftg tag too to see if I could intermingle there and last I checked it was a mix of fans obsessed with the series and haters being just a tad harsh imo, so i couldn't even do that RIP. I'm so lonesome in what is maybe a whole group of people gaslighting me 😔👊

honestly ive said this before and i always have to tread a very fine line with it because this isn't me saying it's OKAY or like. promotable. but i do think to an extent that aftg's problematicness is actually an aspect of what draws people in a lot. like the characters and their reactions to things feel real for who they are, what they've been through and the environments they were raised in if that makes sense? and then you go in the anti-aftg tag and it's just again and again 'they said THIS thing and acted THIS way in response to THIS scenario and it was PROBLEMATIC' and like. yeah. outside of the internet bubble you're in people do actually do that. like that behaviour exists. it IS problematic, well done. you pointed at a wall and called it a wall. but like? in real life people - PARTICULARLY deprived, traumatised people that typically don't ever get therapy or community or someone telling them why something is bad - DO act this way. ive said half of my love for andrew is literally just because he took an awful backstory and let it make him a complete cunt and ive NEVER seen a character do it as shamelessly as him before. and yeah there's the argument for how it's never resolved in the book where nora ties it with a bow and points at the bad behaviour so the readers can go 'see, this is wrong' and we all clap, but idk it just for me feels that when people point at the aftg characters and go problematic! problematic! problematic! it's like they're missing the point a bit.

the point being? that we need to be putting WAY more heat on the author. i really dislike her and a lot of her writing choices and her insistance of using slurs that aren't hers to reclaim and just because it happened to make the characters feel just that bit more authentic i can still acknowledge that she CLEARLY wrote it without characterisation in mind and just added all that problematic shit anyway. like i never get why there's so little focus on nora's writing decisions and thousands of posts just fucking CRUCIFYING the characters themselves and 'let's explain in detail why this behaviour is Morally Reprehensible and they should be Locked Up Forever'. like if u want to focus on the characters so bad and pretend they're the sole reason why aftg is Problematic and Bad then why is it so hard to acknowledge that someone raised the way they were might have some misinformed, ignorant beliefs. idk lol

[xxtayleyxx]

@wise-lizard and I had our first con day and it was very very successful 🤭💜💚

[staff]

We Asked an Expert...in Herpetology!

People on Tumblr come from all walks of life and all areas of expertise to grace our dashboards with paragraphs and photographs of the things they want to share with the world. Whether it's an artist uploading their speed art, a fanfic writer posting their WIPs, a language expert expounding on the origin of a specific word, or a historian ready to lay down the secrets of Ea-nasir, the hallways of Tumblr are filled with specialists sharing their knowledge with the world. We Asked an Expert is a deep dive into those expert brains on tumblr dot com. Today, we’re talking to Dr. Mark D. Scherz (@markscherz), an expert in Herpetology. Read on for some ribbeting frog facts, including what kind of frog the viral frog bread may be based on.

Reptiles v Amphibians. You have to choose one.

In a battle for my heart, I think amphibians beat out the reptiles. There is just something incredibly good about beholding a nice plump frog.

In a battle to the death, I have to give it to the reptiles—the number of reptiles that eat amphibians far, far outstrips the number of amphibians that eat reptiles.

In terms of ecological importance, I would give it to the amphibians again, though. Okay, reptiles may keep some insects and rodents in check, but many amphibians live a dual life, starting as herbivores and graduating to carnivory after metamorphosis, and as adults they are critical for keeping mosquitos and other pest insects in check.

What is the most recent exciting fact you discovered about herps?

This doesn’t really answer your question, but did you know that tadpole arms usually develop inside the body and later burst through the body wall fully formed? I learned about this as a Master’s student many years ago, but it still blows my mind. What’s curious is that this apparently does not happen in some of the species of frogs that don’t have tadpoles—oh yeah, like a third of all frogs or something don’t have free-living tadpoles; crazy, right? They just develop forelimbs on the outside of the body like all other four-legged beasties. But this has only really been examined in a couple species, so there is just so much we don’t know about development, especially in direct-developing frogs. Like, how the hell does it just… swap from chest-burster to ‘normal’ limb development? Is that the recovery of the ancestral programming, or is it newly generated? When in frog evolution did the chest-burster mode even evolve?

How can people contribute to conservation efforts for their local herps?

You can get involved with your local herpetological societies if they exist—and they probably do, as herpetologists are everywhere. You can upload observations of animals to iNaturalist, where you can get them identified while also contributing to datasets on species distribution and annual activity used by research scientists.

You can see if there are local conservation organizations that are doing any work locally, and if you find they are not, then you can get involved to try to get them started. For example, if you notice areas of particularly frequent roadkill, talking to your local council or national or local conservation organizations can get things like rescue programs or road protectors set up. You should also make sure you travel carefully and responsibly. Carefully wash and disinfect your hiking boots, especially between locations, as you do not want to be carrying chytrid or other nasty infectious diseases across the world, where they can cause population collapses and extinctions.

Here are some recent headlines. Quick question, what the frog is going on in the frog world? 

Click through for Mark’s response to these absolutely wild headlines, more about his day-to-day job, his opinion on frog bread, and his favorite Tumblr.

✨D I S C O V E R Y✨

There are more people on Earth than ever before, with the most incredible technology that advances daily at their disposal, and they disperse that knowledge instantly. That means more eyes and ears observing, recording, and sharing than ever before. And so we are making big new discoveries all the time, and are able to document them and reach huge audiences with them.

That being said, these headlines also showcase how bad some media reporting has gotten. The frogs that scream actually scream mostly in the audible range—they just have harmonics that stretch up into ultrasound. So, we can hear them scream, we just can’t hear all of it. Because the harmonics are just multiples of the fundamental, they would anyway only add to the overall ‘quality’ of the sound, not anything different. The mushroom was sprouting from the flank of the frog, and scientists are not really worried about it because this is not how parasitic fungi work, and this is probably a very weird fluke. And finally, the Cuban tree frogs (Osteocephalus septentrionalis) are not really cannibals per se; they are just generalist predators who will just as happily eat a frog as they will a grasshopper, but the frogs they are eating are usually other species. People seem to forget that cannibalism is, by definition, within a species. The fact that they are generalist predators makes them a much bigger problem than if they were cannibals—a cannibal would actually kind of keep itself in check, which would be useful. The press just uses this to get people’s hackles up because Westerners are often equal parts disgusted and fascinated by cannibalism. 

What does an average day look like for the curator of herpetology at the Natural History Museum of Denmark?

No two days are the same, and that is one of the joys of the job. I could spend a whole day in meetings, where we might be discussing anything from which budget is going to pay for 1000 magnets to how we could attract big research funding, to what a label is going to say in our new museum exhibits (we are in the process of building a new museum). Equally, I might spend a day accompanying or facilitating a visitor dissecting a crocodile or photographing a hundred snakes. Or it might be divided into one-hour segments that cover a full spectrum: working with one of my students on a project, training volunteers in the collection, hunting down a lizard that someone wants to borrow from the museum, working on one of a dozen research projects of my own, writing funding proposals, or teaching classes. It is a job with a great deal of freedom, which really suits my work style and brain.

Oh yeah, and then every now and then, I get to go to the field and spend anywhere from a couple of weeks to several months tracking down reptiles and amphibians, usually in the rainforest. These are also work days—with work conditions you couldn’t sell to anyone: 18-hour work days, no weekends, no real rest, uncomfortable living conditions, sometimes dangerous locations or working conditions, field kitchen with limited options, and more leeches and other biting beasties than most health and welfare officers would tolerate—but the reward is the opportunity to make new discoveries and observations, collect critical data, and the privilege of getting to be in some of the most beautiful and biodiverse places left on the planet. So, I am humbled by the fact that I have the privilege and opportunity to undertake such expeditions, and grateful for the incredible teams I collaborate with that make all of this work—from the museum to the field—possible.

The Tibetan Blackbird is also known as Turdus maximus. What’s your favorite chortle-inducing scientific name in the world of herpetology?

Among reptiles and amphibians, there aren’t actually that many to choose from, but I must give great credit to my friend Oliver Hawlitschek and his team, who named the snake Lycodryas cococola, which actually means ‘Coco dweller’ in Latin, referring to its occurrence in coconut trees. When we were naming Mini mum, Mini scule, and Mini ature, I was inspired by the incredible list that Mark Isaac has compiled of punning species names, particularly by the extinct parrot Vini vidivici, and the beetles Gelae baen, Gelae belae, Gelae donut, Gelae fish, and Gelae rol. I have known about these since high school, and it has always been my ambition to get a species on this list.

If you were a frog, what frog would you be and why?

I think I would be a Phasmahyla because they’re weird and awkward, long-limbed, and look like they’re wearing glasses. As a 186 cm (6’3) glasses-wearing human with no coordination, they quite resonate with me.

Please rate this frog bread from 1/10. Can you tell us what frog it represents?

With the arms inside the body cavity like that, it can basically only be a brevicipitid rain frog. The roundness of the body fits, too. I’d say probably Breviceps macrops (or should I say Breadviceps?) based on those big eyes. 7/10, a little on the bumpy side and missing a finger and at least one toe.

Please follow Dr. Mark Scherz at @markscherz for even more incredibly educational, entertaining, and meaningful resources in the world of reptiles and amphibians.

[wombywoo]

Ok! I've finally decided to put together a (somewhat) comprehensive tutorial on my latest art~

Please enjoy this little step-by-step 💁‍♀️

First things first--references!

Now I'm not saying you have to go overboard, but I always find that this is a crucial starting point in any art piece I intend on making. Especially if you're a detail freak like me and want to make it as realistic as possible 🙃

As such, your web browser should look like this at any given point:

Since this is a historical piece, it means hours upon hours of meaningless research just to see what color the socks are, but...again. that isn't, strictly, necessary 😅

Once I've compiled all my lovely ref pics, I usually dump them into a big-ass collage ⬇️

(I will end up not using half of these, alas :'D)

Another reference search for background material, and getting to showcase our models of choice for this occasion~

When picking a reference for an actor or model, the main thing I keep in mind (besides prettiness 🤭) is lighting and orientation. Because I already kinda know what pose I'm gonna go with for this piece, I can look for specific angles that might fit the criteria. I should mention that I am a reference hound, and my current COD actor ref folder looks like this:

Also keep in mind, if you're using a ref that you need to flip, make sure you adjust accordingly. This especially applies to clothing, as certain things like pants zippers and belt buckles can be quite specific ☝️

Now that we've spent countless hours googling, it's time to start with a rough sketch:

It doesn't have to be pretty, folks, just a basic guideline of where you want the figures to be.

The next step is to define it more, and I know this looks like that 'how to draw an owl' meme, but I promise--getting from the loose sketch above to below is not that difficult.

Things to keep in mind are--don't go too in-depth with the details, because things are still subject to change at this point. In terms of making a suitable anatomically-correct sketch, I would suggest lots of studying. This doesn't even have to be things like figure drawing, I genuinely look at people around me for inspiration all the time. Familiarize yourself with the human form, and things like weight, proportions, posing will seem a little more feasible.

It's also important at this stage to consider your composition. Remember to flip the canvas frequently to make sure you're not leaning to one side too often. I'm sure something can be said for the spiral fibonacci stuff, which I don't really try to do on purpose, but I think keeping things like symmetry and balance in mind is a good start ✌️

Next step is just blocking in the figures. Standard. No fuss 👍

Now onto the background!

It's frankly hilarious how many people thought I was *hand-drawing* these maps and stuff 😂😂 I cannot even begin to comprehend how insanely difficult that would be. So yeah, we're just taking the lazy copy and paste way out 🤙

I almost always prepare my backgrounds first, and this is mostly to get a general color scheme off the bat. For collage work, it's really just a matter of trial and error, sticking this here, slapping this there, etc. I like to futz around with different overlay options until I've found a nice arrangement. Advice for this is just--go nuts 🤷‍♀️

Next, I add a few color adjustments. I tend to make at least 2 colors pop in an art piece, and low and behold, they usually tend to be red and blue ❤️💙There's something about warm/cool vibes, idk man..

Now we move on to coloring the figures. This is just a basic block and fill, not really defining any of the details yet.

Next, we add some cursory values. Sloppy airbrush works fine, it'll look better soon I promise 🙏

And now--rendering!

I know a lot of beginner artists are intimidated by rendering, and I can totally understand why. It's just one of those things you have to commit to 💪

I've decided to show a brief process of rendering our dear Johnny's face here:

Starting off, I usually rely on the trusty airbrush just to get some color values going. Note--I've kept my sketch layer on top, but feel free to turn it on and off as you work, so as to not be too bound to the sketch. For now, it's just a guideline.

This next stage may look like a huge jump, but it's really just adding more to the foundation. I try to think of it like putting on make-up in a way~ Adding contours, accentuating highlights. This is also where I start adding in more saturation, especially around areas such as ears, nose and lips. Still a bit fuzzy at this point, but that's why we keep adding to it 💪

A boy has appeared! See--now I've removed most of the line layer, and it holds up on its own. I'll admit that in order to achieve this realistic style, you'll need lots and lots of practice and skill, which shouldn't be discouraging! Just motivate yourself with the prospect of getting to look at pretty men for countless hours 🙆‍♀️

I'll probably do a more in-depth explanation about rendering at some point, but let's keep this rolling~

Moving forward is just a process of adding to the figures bit by bit. I do lean towards filling in each section from top to bottom, but you can feel free to pop around to certain parts that appeal to you more. I almost always do the faces first though, because if they end up sucking, I feel less guilty about scrapping it 😂 But no--I think he's pretty enough to proceed 😚

They're coming together now 🙆‍♀️ Another helpful tip--make sure you reuse color. By that, I mean--try to incorporate various colors throughout your piece, using the eyedropper tool to keep a consistent palette. I try to put in bits of red and blue where I can

Here they are fully rendered! Notice I've made a few subtle changes from the sketch, like adjusting the belt buckles because I made a mistake 😬 Hence why you shouldn't put too much stock in your initial sketch~

The next step is more of a stylistic choice, but I usually go over everything with an outline, typically in a bright color like green. Occasionally, I can just use my initial line layer, but for this, I've made a brand new, cleaner line 👍

And the final step is adjusting the color and adding some text:

Tada!! It's done!

All in all, this took me the better part of a week, but I have a lot of free time, so yeah ✌️

I hope you appreciated that little walkthrough~ I know people have been asking me how I do my art, but the truth is--I usually have no clue how to explain myself 😅 So have this half-assed tutorial~

As a bonus, here is a cute (cursed) image of Johnny without his mustache:

A baby, a literal infant child !!! who put this wee bairn on the front lines ??! 😭

Anyway! peace out ✌️

[court-jobi]

Kissproof

((Banner by me!! I don't own Horikoshi's work/characters))

Pairing: Todoroki x reader (fem!reader)

Words: 3.3k

Rating: G~

Warnings: Behold the FLUFF, soft Todoroki hours, est. relationship, slice of life, light jealousy, getting ready together, assurance, non-sexual intimacy, this is not 'touch her you die'-- this is 'touch her and ill stare at you till you do the right thing'

Summary:

Having grown up around a sister, Shoto Todoroki held no resentment about seeing you mull about hogging the mirror. On the contrary, he’d always found the care and details girls would put into their appearances to be remarkable. To be the one watching and sharing these intimate routines with you is something he treasures-- if only he could always keep you to himself like this… not always possible in a room chock-full of heroes with wandering eyes.

A/N: my first attempt at a todoroki fic? because he's so gentle and deserves everything wonderful?? This feels so different than my recent Bakugou works, and I love the change of pace. Hope yall like it too!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Having grown up around a sister, Shoto Todoroki held no resentment about seeing you mull about hogging the mirror. On the contrary, he’d always found the care and details girls would put into their appearances to be remarkable: a personal touch that adorned what beautiful foundation was already there.

The way the makeup artists would enhance his fellow heroes at press photoshoots should be hailed as art. He didn't see why makeup brushes were marketed any differently than those belonging to a painter. Industry-performing nonsense, he supposed. 

When you finally got a spare moment to yourself in this hotel suite in Kobe getting ready for dinner,  your circle of best girlfriends -brought into your life by his introduction- were deciding on dresses when Todoroki came over through the open conjoining room unnoticed, looking for you.

You’re still robed up post-shower and kept calling out answers to Kirishima and Midoriya on what to wear across the room. Bakugou had even swallowed his pride enough to ask you to get the ‘shitty cufflinks’ on his ‘shitty jacket’ right because his ‘shitty fingers’ couldn’t quite manage it. You’d become something of an invaluable resource by nature- maternal instincts seep from you so easily- but unfortunately have put you in last place in terms of getting ready.

As Todoroki entered your space, you were mid makeup; eyes almost done, but before lips or anything else past your light moisturizer. You caught his eye a bit embarrassed.

"Uh--hey, hon’~" you greet with complete fondness, despite his quiet intrusion.

With a small word of greeting back, he took a mental picture of this serene state of you. Something he can remember when he’s past the point of exhaustion on hour ten of patrol, and needs a lifeline. 

Unphased by the sight of piles of toiletry bags and finishing tools galore, he took a seat along the edge of the high-walled tub, pulling out his phone for a second while you processedwhat he was doing: making himself comfortable.

"Sorry, did you need the- um?"

He looked back up at you, gesturing limply towards the toilet, but he dismisses that suggestion. Certainly wasn't in line or anything for that; only for you. 

"No,” Todoroki dismissed calmly, “ just wondered if they were finally letting you be.”

You appeared pleased at his reasoning, jutting your hair back over your shoulder as he sat there smiling a bit in admiration. Phone’s properly set to silent now; nothing to interrupt the nice lofi streaming from your phone’s tiny speaker.

"I'll be done in a sec, it doesn’t take me too long. Just gotta, y'know- 'doll myself up'. Got a lot of heads to turn here tonight.”

Todoroki glares at you in a silly deadpan. "You're lovely in the company of one as you are in a hundred, but if more makes you happy, do whatever you'd like."

You turned back to the mirror to carry on, in view to catch him looking over at you every now again in the reflection. Your effortless flair for polishing was a thing to witness firsthand. He was hardly bored, watching you; as entertained as can be rather than begging ‘are you done yet’ through tired stares. 

"Guess you're really not one of those ‘no makeup’ guys,” you chime from the vanity. 

"Hm?" Todoroki livens up as you engage with him after a long stretch of silence. 

"Most boys have pretty strong opinions about girls in full face. Like, ‘you really shouldn’t wear so much’. Or on the flip side, like ‘ooooo she's gotta wear red’ or ‘make sure it matches the nails’ or how it takes too long..."

From your poised exterior, Todoroki finds your swirling stream of consciousness a funny contrast when you let him in on your thought process.

With a patient smirk, he merely tilts his head at you, “Did you ask for my opinion?”

You’re torn for a minute- clear that you're worried about offending him and quick to respond,

“--Not that I'd hate it~ but I don't think so, no,” you answer.

“Because it doesn’t matter,” Todoroki answers you comfortably. “It’s your hobby, sweetheart. You should enjoy it for you.”

Your freshly finished eyes crinkle at him, “Just don’t want you bored out of your mind over there, not even having a say.”

"Do you mind my being here?"

Peaceably, you keep his stare. "No, not at all."

"Then don’t worry about what I think. You like doing it, I get the time with you, so you can take as long as you’d like."

Capping the mascara, you double tap your phone to illuminate it, “We’re good on time, right?”

Confident in a companionable sort of way, Todoroki defends that however much time you need, you’ll get. He’d give you the moon if he could.

“Time’s yours. No rush.”

It’s the truth; Todoroki benefits from either state of you– whether it's brushed on or not, he gets the chance to soak in your beauty as you allow him to. The intimacy of these lovely feminine practices is what appeals to him anyway. It could be watching you dole out your extensive skincare or something as simple as handing you your prized chapstick when it’s cold; Todoroki just loves watching you tend to yourself– and letting him in on the secrets.

He allowed his head to rest on the wall as he watched you put highlighter and a deep lip color on that complemented your dress of choice. Then as you brought some hair up to see the whole finished look, it’s only at this stage that he piped up again.

"What color is your dress?"

You turned a bit to the open entryway closet, where your roommates all sufficiently moved in and prepped for the weekend’s events. A mix of hero garb and formalwear lined the maxxed out closet.

"It's that black sleeveless one in there, if you don’t mind grabbing it?" 

As you were now in the middle of putting on an earring, Todoroki passed behind you to do just that. 

He came back with the hotel’s branded hangar, and you pulled it up to pet the fabric in appreciation.

"I like it cuz it’s super soft on the inside. No pockets though," you made a teasing whisper mocking where the inert should be. Todoroki rolled his eyes playfully.

"You women and your pockets."

"They're all designed by men who don't understand! You know that, right?"

"Are you going to keep complaining, or put it on?"

You turned with a little sway, "Ahhh, now I see why I have an audience..."

Todoroki suddenly found an ounce of shame and shy, contrasting eyes, and he stamped on an apology to not appear so hungry, "U-um, sorry. I'll uh–,"

You dismissed his gentlemanly move to exit– and tugged him forward instead. You leaned in close to his ear, 

"I'll be right out. Don't go far– I’ll need you."

Not a minute later, you met the room with half the girls fiddling over Iida’s suit and half over Midoriya’s finishing touches when Mina squealed your return:

"OH YES, BABE! This is IT!!"

Eyes all shot to you in your final reveal. You gave the little model leg stance under the attention, highlighting the leg slit and jeweled accent down the leg. The move made poor ‘Deku’ choke at the sight, and Kirishima froze all coherent thought for a split second (as he did for just about all his friends). 

Todoroki turned around from his view by the window to meet your expectant eye. Despite having seen every bit of your outfit come together, he completed a full check out on you and didn't hide his smirk well.

"Oh my God, Todoroki, you’re ogling– quit that!!" Hagakure chided.

"Not until she quits that."

His admiration of you held no shame whatsoever– which you accepted a long time ago.

"I'll -erm- just say you look great, chief! Not anything else, man!!" Kirishima was quick to appease Todoroki’s acute glare at the enthusiasm for you, his coworker. Kirishima would ordinarily argue you were his work wife, but not in front of ‘Icyhot’.

"Thanks hunny," You smiled innocently enough,but ultimately joined Todoroki’s warm side.

He outstretched an arm out to pull you in, only to notice you twirl around to him to show where you did need his help after all. Pinned down by your precariously positioned hand behind your back, Todoroki could now see you needed zipped up.

A caring touch was needed, and his heart softened unfairly with the insinuation that you wanted his touch to be the one to do it. By your expectant look over your shoulder, it’s sweetly implied that you’d never consider anyone else for the job.

Once done, your turning back around allowed you the space to straighten out his lapel more affectionately– he didn’t see what about this was particularly endearing, but your pampering gesture brings a swoon from all the women in the room.

Todoroki zoned out for a moment– holding close the feeling that he never wanted to be at an event where you weren't by his side like this. His hands settle appropriately to your waist in a comfortable hug while you admire his suit with surprise.

"This cut is really nice on you. You need to remember this one for the agency dinner next month!"

He tips his head down a bit at the compliment but turned it around to you quickly, 

"I could say the same for you; but I have the feeling anything you choose would have the same effect as this. You sure wear the dress, not the other way around."

"Flatterer."

A warmhanded brush of fingers to your neck, just as you like it,

"Gorgeous."

"Oh GOD,” Bakugou revolts, “don't make me PUKE, ICYHOT!!"

That night, each step you took had Todoroki seeking you out- the clack of your heel piquing his attention. 

His magnetic attraction fell gently over you tonight as always… though your reaction to his sights on you would drag him near the rest of the way: a fierceness he adored about you. How you protected the bond you shared -displaying your love loudly- was an appreciated sign of commitment, whether it took the form of a hand in his, your body pressed close into his side, or through a whispered word meant only for his ears.

One point in the night after supper, Todoroki parted from you briefly. Not far, but you’d strayed off with a few mutual friends engrossed in your own conversation, the social butterfly you were that outshone his more withdrawn personality. The assembly brought some pro-heroes from several districts together and acted as both networking and reunion for those separated by vocation.

You're catching up with an old friend of yours who Todoroki can almost name– if not for the itch of irritation clouding his long term memory. 

There were many whom you’d shared stories of from your past, though the man before you carried a classically flirty energy Todoroki felt he should recall. He’s half listening to Kirishima’s recent advances to the old flame the redhead was tending to– in favor of monitoring the situation involving his own. 

Fortunately, his powers of observation suit him well even in instances like this, where Todoroki can sense from your neck’s tilt alone that you’re locked in conversation, but don’t perceive a threat in your eyes. 

–But unfortunately, it did little to settle his own reservations. Firm reservations. The man had you twirl a bit in an old 1940s style show over your outfit, which only sent poor Todoroki into alert mode. 

He held his glass a bit tighter and tried to not stare bullets into the brunette, yet failed. 

Kirishima’s brief little nudge righted Todoroki’s damning sights on your present company. The unspoken word he held with a raised brow gave Todoroki a fair amount of encouragement, and a check on his palpable jealousy.

“Y’know,” Kirishima took in the sights of the exquisite lighting above their heads, “For a guy who’s got the most temperamental quirk I’ve seen, you’ve got a pretty funny way of showing when you’re unnerved.”

Todoroki bit his tongue from spouting something harsh back, “What do you mean.”

“Normally when folks get hot over something, you can see steam comin’ out their ears, Tom & Jerry style~” Kirishima chuffed. “You on the other hand– take an icy approach.”

Looking down for once, Todoroki noted he now held a frosted glass– more than his crafted cocktail iceblock should do. 

“But hey, keeps your drink from getting watered down, eh? Wish I could have that sort of tell!”

Kept in check by ‘Riot’s playful sense of security, Todoroki calmed his own flare of green. 

It certainly wasn’t his best quality; there was still plenty in his nature that he’s been actively trying to overwrite. His owning of his emotions is work he implements in everyday risk and battle. Though in his efforts to not let those same extreme emotions tear his fledgling little family apart (the one he shares with you), Todoroki tends to take a polarizing approach to his role as a supportive partner than the one his father modeled for him:

Where his old man viewed his wife as subservient and held strict boundaries within their dynamic, the tie he held to you was a treasured partnership. An act of give and take, but one he chose to adore and never take for granted– not for an instant. He was simply protective– at least he was trying to be, in the most even-tempered way.

It was a tender thing he was gifted, in a surprising turn of fate he believed he may never have found for himself… but one thing Todoroki swears to is that coming into your favor was a balm for him. Something steady, something breathing, a lifeline that enriched everything it touched, including his view on the very world itself.

Not just because you were the woman he fully intended to marry someday: but that you were a light he wanted to keep warm and safe and never let anything threaten that shine.

Just relying on the constancy that the very thought of you brings to mind eases Todoroki’s spirit, and he can now react to Kirishima’s asides about Bakugou and Midoriya’s current rivaling ‘dance’ around the dessert table with a lighter heart.

After ignoring where his mind had fallen away to for a moment, a touch brought his attention back to you, who was leading said peacock over. You got real close into Todoroki’s space, a hint he grappled onto immediately as you lowered your tone of voice… purposefully, to make the point clear,

"Hey sweetheart, I brought a old friend over I'd like you to meet!” 

You touched along his chest for security, but it’s a sincere move that would assure even a perfect stranger what the nature of your relationship is. 

“After all,” -casual as you sound, you’re fixed on Todoroki alone- “I wanted everyone here in my circle to know who the next top hero in Japan is... so they can say they knew him when~"

Todoroki looked from you back to the brunette, who seemed a bit taken aback at your crystal clear relationship status now. And boy, did Shoto want nothing more than to play into that. 

But in his perfect, practiced graces, Todoroki met your friend’s gaze with a hand reeling you in close by the waist.

Ordinarily he’d bow or at the very least extend a hand to shake– but pocketing his other hand instead felt like the more appropriate move. A confident stance, assured by your presence once again rubbing at his back unseen.

"How sweet of you, darling. Shoto Todoroki, a pleasure."

Pleasantries are shared, and you never budge once from his hold even to switch weight from one foot to the other. Todoroki feels every bit the power couple, with you by his side.

Once your company did leave after brief chatter again (primarily led by you) did you almost chortle into Todoroki’s neck,

"Oh my God, Sho~ you are steaming."

Todoroki keeps a calm exterior, but hints at his earlier irritation playfully enough in a crowd full of people, "Why was he touching you."

"He's from the islands down south, super big dance culture. Plenty of those dance nights at the student union were headed up by him alone, back in the day….”

But you didn't want to excuse your man's feelings as you caught his eyes,

“Though as it seemed he was willing to pick up some things where he feels we left off, I had to see him straight,” you ran relaxed fingers down his coat’s opening. “Figured I'd let you have a bit of fun, and I'm very glad you behaved."

Todoroki moved you into the music that began queueing up at the moment, so it seemed more like a dance.

"I think I'm having second thoughts about the dress now,” he murmurs with a crafty eye to you. Not aimed to be mean, because there’s plenty of love in his look to spare, “I'm not so sure it sends the right message."

Centering to the front of him, you relished in Todoroki’s duality of design. "Oh?"

"He was drooling over you," He sounded firm.

"And you're not?" You teased by his ear. That comment pressed you closer to him. Maybe a touch possessive, but still giving you plenty of space to settle and push back if you wished. 

Your voice dripped of its soft nature you reserved for him- genuine, and not the customer-service persona you gave off when in control…

"This dress was for me and you, y’know. No one else. See how it matches?” you trace along the inner lining of the jacket, fingers dipping inside where the warmth is captured. 

You draw a special kanji over his heart, a blend of your initials hidden by his coat~

“I’d have my mark on you too, if it wouldn’t look so obvious. Just you, my prince."

Todoroki smiled a bit towards your shoulder, appeased for the moment, catching your eyes again, "I'd like to kiss you for that. But I know how much you worked on all this."

You smirked. Without a word, you smudged a finger to your lips  brusquely, and showed no color at all left behind on the finger. 

"Girl magic: kiss-proof."

Todoroki’s eyes lit for a second before he grinned again. This time, he caught the gaze of another couple standing off to the wall who seemed to be noticing you two, and he very purposefully decided on giving a show, no matter who sees. He’s insanely proud of you, after all, so he could risk a little expression tonight. 

He caressed your neck gently and brought you into a close, full kiss that you chuckled lowly into. He looked blissed and a touch smug on standing back.

"Better, hon’?"

"Better," He smoothed a hand up your back until he took your hand to stay in his arm, "although I think I'll stick a little closer to you tonight, all the same."

"No complaints here," You took a walk through here and there, and managed to claim a view by the tall windows overlooking the nightlife below. "--especially with you trying out a new pet name back there..."

"You liked that, huh?" Todoroki came to stand behind you, and you leaned back into his hug.

You tugged his arms around to where they caressed your sides and swayed a bit comfortably.

He smiled and chuckled into your back, pressing a little kiss onto your forehead offered to him.

Shoto stands with you as you're looking far out into the city, but all he cares about is the window's reflection on you:

Not a paint stroke out of place, even after his kiss. A portrait the room should very well be envious of, but that he’s fully secure is all for him.

"Darling it is."

[cloudwhisper23]

BEHOLD!!! AN ART TRADE!!! @pixlokita it is time!

Caution, do not click read more if you do not intend to read. This is 12,192 words. And no, I'm not kidding. This is so much longer than most of the stuff I write. That being said, enjoy!!!

Evan said Michael was sick, which worried Jeremy. Being sick should not mean Michael would try so hard to avoid Jeremy, especially since he knew it would make Jeremy worry about him more.

But the main part Jeremy was worried about was the way Evan’s new wings kept fluffing up. Was Michael mad at him?

Don’t worry about it, Jeremy, he told himself. If Michael’s mad, he’ll tell you eventually.

It just stung. Evan and Gregory were wandering around the house, trying to see if their wings would allow them to do various things. Evan’s were too small to do much, and Gregory still hadn’t gotten used to them yet, but at least they had something to do while Mr. Emily tried to figure out what could possibly cause this.

“Ugh!” Gregory exclaimed, plopping down on the sofa next to Jeremy. He took the soda from Jeremy’s hand and took a giant sip. “These things suck.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy asked, unsuccessfully trying to retrieve his Coke.

“I mean,” Gregory scowled, taking another sip, “that wings are stupid. They don’t even bend the way I want them to.”

“Well…” Jeremy said thoughtfully. “They are just extra limbs, right? With bones and joints and stuff?”

“I guess so.” Gregory finally gave Jeremy his soda back. “But they don’t move how I want-“

“You couldn’t do much when you were a baby right? Learning to crawl?” Jeremy chugged the rest of his Coke before putting the empty can down. “It’s an accomplishment when babies get their heads off the floor on their own, you know. And rolling and stuff.”

“Oh.” Gregory clearly hadn’t thought about it that way. “But Evan’s got excellent control already.”

“He’s had them longer.” Jeremy shrugged. “Maybe he’s just a quick learner. Or maybe, there’s less wing to work with. Could be a bunch of things.”

“But…” Gregory sighed. He inched closer to Jeremy on the couch, his wings refusing to bend in a natural way.

Jeremy awkwardly looped a comforting arm around Gregory. “You’ll get there eventually.”

“They just hurt. All the time.”

“I can’t help with that,” Jeremy chuckled.

“Sure you can! Mike did this thing once, where he…” Gregory chewed his lip. “Well, I’m not exactly sure what he did.”

“You want me to pet you?” Jeremy said in disbelief. “Nuh uh. Go ask Evan. That’s not… No.”

“Why’d you make it weird?” Gregory shook his head. “It was like…”

“Like a shoulder massage,” Evan interjected helpfully. His wings flexed, expanding fully as he explained. They barely went past his shoulders, but the point got across.

Jeremy admired the confidence with which he showed them. He’d personally be too worried about people calling him a freak. Which, thinking about it, was not likely to happen in this house. Everyone was too nice here.

“Mikey went like this,” Evan said, pulling Jeremy’s arm back to get to Gregory’s wings.

Gently, Evan messaged the inner edge of Gregory’s wings, right where they extended from his back. Gregory’s wings convulsed, the claw on one nearly hitting Jeremy in the face. “I think they get itchy,” Evan mused. “We might have to just do this more often.”

“No kidding,” Gregory said with a sigh, his eyes closing and his shoulders relaxing. “But Mike’s still better at it.”

“Wonder where he got his practice,” Jeremy replied. He didn’t mean to sound bitter, but it still came across that way.

Evan winched, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he kept focused on his task. Gregory sighed absently. “Wings are a lot of work.”

“Seems that way,” Jeremy replied.

Gregory folded and unfolded his hands while Evan worked. “I just…”

Jeremy spared him a glance as he went to get another can of Coke. “Something on your mind?”

“His girlfriend,” Evan said absently.

“Cassie’s not my girlfriend!” Gregory said, straightening. His wings fluffed up as he said it.

“Oh.” Jeremy had no idea what to make of that. “What happened to her?”

“I don’t know!” Gregory replied. He ran a hand through his hair to try to make it lay flat. “She was at Evan’s party, and she looked really bad. I think Mike took care of it, but he didn’t really say anything about it afterwards.”

“She’s probably at the hospital, Gregory,” Evan replied, trying to be soothing. “We can visit her once we figure out what to do about this first.”

“Stupid wings,” Gregory grumbled. “Making everything harder.”

Jeremy didn’t know how to reply to that. He cracked the can open and took a sip. “Have you asked Mike?”

“He’s sick,” Evan answered for Gregory. His wings fluffed up again.

“Maybe we should check on him then. He’s been resting all week right?” Jeremy asked, trying to be casual about it. Evan had been very guarded about his older brother this whole time.

Jeremy came over every day, and every day, Evan said the same thing. “Mike’s sick. He can’t see anyone right now.”

It had been happening since the day Gregory’s wings had burst through his skin. Jeremy was more than a little concerned. Sure, he hadn’t reacted well to the wings at first, but none of them had. He’d been more supportive when Evan’s had burst through later that same day.

But Michael’s expression became very guarded for the rest of the day, and the next day, he was “sick” and couldn’t see Jeremy. And Evan was very good at shooing Jeremy away when he tried too hard to see him.

“Shouldn’t he eat something?” Jeremy asked.

Evan frowned. “Mikey told me that there’s not much he can stomach right now.”

“Crackers always work,” Jeremy mumbled to himself. Shaking his head, he tried again. “What about water? Maybe he’ll start feeling better with some fluids.”

“I… guess…” Evan seemed less sure. Conflicted, he looked at Gregory and then glanced at the closed door to his cousin’s room.

“I can get it. You keep helping Gregory,” Jeremy said quickly. He didn’t want Evan to change his mind.

Evan relented, nodding slightly. “Okay. Make sure to get him a big glass. And don’t be loud. And-“

“I know how it works when someone’s sick, thank you.” Jeremy set his Coke down and rushed back to the kitchen to grab a glass.

Evan had not been exaggerating. When Jeremy crept into the room with the glass of water, Michael was curled into a tight ball on the bed.

“Mike?” Jeremy whispered into the quiet room.

Michael groaned in response. He rolled over to face Jeremy, exposing the hair plastered to his face with sweat.

“I um.” Jeremy swallowed. He felt a little foolish now. Michael was just literally sick. He wasn’t mad at Jeremy or anything like that. “I brought you some water.”

Michael opened his eyes, feebly reaching for the glass.

“Are you strong enough to hold it on your own?” Jeremy asked.

Michael had to consider that for a moment. Then he shook his head.

“Here-“ Jeremy sat next to Michael on the bed, helping pull him into an upright position so he could drink the water.

Michael leaned heavily against Jeremy, eagerly drinking the water. Jeremy had to brace himself against the wall to support the extra weight. Then abruptly, Michael pulled away.

“J… Jeremy,” Michael whispered weakly. He gripped at Jeremy’s jacket, burying his face in Jeremy’s shirt. “I…”

“It’s okay, Mike-“

Michael seized in Jeremy’s arms, sobbing heavily. His hold got tighter and tighter as his body shuddered with pain. Jeremy tried to set the glass on the bedside table, but he barely had it on the edge and water soaked into the carpet as he pulled Michael the rest of the way into his lap. “I got you,” Jeremy said into Michael’s hair.

“It hurts,” Michael cried, still shaking.

“You’ll get through this,” Jeremy mumbled.

A tearing noise broke through the sound of Michael’s sobs, even as they intensified. “JEREMY!!!” Michael wailed.

“I have you, Mike. It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

Dimly, Jeremy registered the large wings erupting from Michael’s back. Oh. Oh. This was happening now. Bloody feathers spread out, wrapping around Jeremy to return his comforting gesture.

Gradually, Michael’s crying ceased, and Jeremy was left holding an exhausted teenager with bloody wings. “I am sorry,” Michael whispered, pulling his hands back, the wings retracting slightly. “I did not mean to, uh…”

“It’s okay, Michael.” Jeremy tried to smile at him. He was determined not to squirm in discomfort from all the blood currently soaking into his jacket.

“I… should go shower,” Michael said awkwardly.

“Yeah…” Jeremy wriggled uncomfortably in his jacket.

“Sorry,” Michael said. “I can wash that if you want.”

“It’s not the biggest deal,” Jeremy said.

“It is if you go home wearing a jacket covered in blood,” Michael replied. “It’s only fair that I clean it, since that’s my blood.”

That wasn’t how Jeremy saw it, but he figured he wasn’t getting out of this. “Okay.”

Michael shifted carefully, putting his feet on the carpet. Almost instantly after taking his weight off the bed, he completely lost his balance. His wings flew out, trying to redistribute the weight, but Jeremy didn’t realize that as he caught Michael by the waist. Both of them tumbled off the bed, Jeremy hitting the carpet with a soft ‘oomph.’

“I am sorry. This was not my intent,” Michael said from above Jeremy.

“They take some getting used to, huh?” Jeremy replied, trying to ignore the heat rising to his face.

It hadn’t been much on the bed with Michael clinging to him like a lifeline. But on the floor with Michael on top of him, pinning him to the ground, Jeremy was suddenly aware of how close Michael was to him.

Michael smiled ruefully. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to walk on my own right now. I don’t know how I’m going to wash all this blood off by myself.”

“Maybe your uncle could help?”

“He’s probably back at the library again,” Michael mused as he crawled off Jeremy.

Evan wouldn’t be able to handle it, Jeremy knew that much. And he couldn’t ask for Gregory’s help without alerting Evan to the amount of blood that coated them both.

“Do you want me to help?” Jeremy asked, feeling the heat more intensely in his face. Please say no. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it.

“Really?” Michael chewed his lip, considering it. “I would not want to be a bother… But if you are offering…”

Jeremy’s heart quickened at the prospect. “R-right.”

“Help me up?” Michael asked.

Jeremy pulled Michael to his feet, unprepared for the wings to wrap around him again. “Um.”

“Sorry. I don’t have much control over them yet,” Michael replied sheepishly.

“Do they want me to carry you?” Jeremy gauged the idea of carrying Michael to the bathroom. It wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever come up with.

“It’d probably be less awkward than walking there like this,” Michael agreed.

“So I’m just going to…” Jeremy twisted around in the space the wings allowed him. Michael hissed out a pained breath, but soon he was behind Jeremy. “How well can you jump?”

Pretty well, apparently. Jeremy barely needed to adjust for the weight of Michael on his own back, hands linked beneath Michael’s knees. “Okay. Let’s get you taken care of.”

“I am not a child, Jer,” Michael said wearily. Still, he pressed the side of his face into Jeremy’s hair. “I am sorry to be such a burden.”

“You’re not a burden, Mike. You’re my friend. I’m absolutely willing to help you out when you’re in need.”

“Mmmmm,” Michael sounded almost mournful. But he didn’t argue.

“Okay,” Jeremy said. “So, I’m thinking they might need a decent soaking, right? Birds like to be fully submerged when they clean their wings right?”

Michael blinked at him from where he sat on the toilet lid. “What are you even saying?”

“The blood.”

“It is not dried yet. Not completely anyway.”

“So what? You were planning to just wing this whole thing, weren’t you?” Jeremy shrugged off his jacket.

Michael snorted. “I was planning to shower, Jeremy. But I guess I was planning to wing it, considering how I have wings now.” His wings stretched as he spoke, emphasizing his point. “I just don’t have the strength to stand there long enough to wash them off.”

“I-“ Jeremy sputtered. Clearing his throat, he tried to skip over the accidental pun he’d made. “Just going to let the water do the work?”

“That’s the goal.” Michael frowned. “There’s just a few problems.”

“Such as?”

“My shirt isn’t going to come off the same way it went on this morning.”

“Are you particularly attached to that shirt?” Jeremy asked.

“Not really. Could try to just-“ Michael pulled at the collar of his shirt.

“I’ll go grab a pair of scissors,” Jeremy said as Michael pulled experimentally at his shirt again.

He had to be careful walking by the couch, noticing Evan curled up for a nap. Gregory was nowhere in sight.

Returning with the scissors, Jeremy nearly dropped them upon seeing Michael. “What happened? I was gone for two minutes!”

Michael’s shirt was hanging off his body in shreds. When Jeremy looked closer, he could see sharp claws on Michael’s hands. “I…” Michael shrugged sheepishly. “I thought I could tear the fabric and take it off myself.”

Jeremy’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t let himself laugh. “Okay. I don’t think you did a very good job of it though.”

“It seems as though I failed…”

“Here, let me just…” Jeremy carefully reached around Michael’s head, one knee resting between his legs. It felt strange to be cutting through Michael’s shirt, but as the fabric gave way, Michael seemed to relax a little more.

Jeremy recalled Gregory and Evan both sitting on the couch as Michael measured the shape they needed cut from their shirts for the wings. Perhaps Michael needed a few of those done as well. Something to keep in mind for later.

“Hey, why is there blood all over-“ Gregory’s eyes widened as he peered into the bathroom.

Michael straightened quickly. Jeremy pulled back, hiding the scissors. “Hello.” Michael waved awkwardly, his wings stiff and very clearly exposed.

“You… you have them too?” Gregory’s voice seemed so small.

“Yes, it appears as though we will match.”

Gregory swallowed harshly. “I can help. I know how to get blood stains out of fabric.”

“I would really appreciate it. Thank you, Superstar.” Michael beamed at Gregory, who flushed a deep red.

“It’s no big deal…”

“Not to you,” Jeremy said softly. “But it helps more than you realize. Thank you.”

Gregory opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. He scratched his neck as his wings fluffed up, finally saying, “I’ll be quick. It probably won’t be good if Evan finds out.”

“It would be best if he did not know how messy the process is,” Michael agreed.

Gregory nodded, smoothing his hair down before hurrying out of the room.

Michael wadded the scraps of his shirt into a ball and tossed it to the floor. “Now that that’s sorted…”

Jeremy determinedly kept his eyes from wandering as he helped Michael stand. His friend leaned heavily against him for support as he attempted to undo his pants.

Jeremy belatedly realized that the only way this whole thing would work was if the shower ran over both of them. I’m going to be drenched, he thought sorrowfully as Michael muttered to himself in frustration.

“You could probably just sit while I wash the blood off,” Jeremy said when Michael finally stood there in his boxers. “Since it would be less exhausting for you.”

Michael blinked. “I suppose you are correct. I should have thought this through more.”

“It’s no big deal, man. You’re probably dealing with blood loss or whatever.”

“Still…”

“Hey, it’s fine. You spend all this time taking care of everybody. Maybe it’s time someone took care of you, right?”

Michael chewed his lip. “I suppose.”

“Okay. We’ll get you cleaned up in no time, Mike.” Jeremy said, smiling supportively. Michael tentatively smiled back.

As it turned out, it was a lot harder to clean up Michael than Jeremy initially thought. He kept twitching away, hissing out noises of pain at Jeremy’s touch.

Michael clenched his fists in his lap. “Okay. Clearly this is not the proper solution.”

“I can’t do this when it’s clearly hurting you, Mike. I just…” Jeremy leaned forward to rest his head against the back of Michael’s.

“This is nothing. I have endured much worse before.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”

“Jeremy.” Michael said calmly, wringing water out of the washcloth. “I am sure it has become clear to you that things are not how they should be. The wings are only one part of it.”

“Yeah? What I’m hearing is that your father is abusive.” Jeremy wearily took the washcloth back, dabbing it gently against the space between Michael’s wings. At least like that it didn’t seem to hurt him.

“Well, not in the way you would think. Actually, I was thinking more of the comparison between growing limbs and losing organs. I think losing organs is still a more painful experience than this.”

“So you want me to just ignore your pain?” Jeremy asked, trying to decipher Michael’s meaning.

“I am saying I can handle it. I can be a man about this.”

No one is doubting that, Jeremy thought grimly to himself. “Maybe I can’t.” He tentatively rubbed at a clump of blood in the inner edge of Michael’s wing.

Immediately, it swung at him, throwing him against the sink. Pain flared throughout Jeremy’s entire body as he hit the floor. Faintly he registered that his face was bleeding.

“Jeremy?” Michael asked, twisting around. “Are you alright?”

“Nnnnngh,” Jeremy groaned. “I don’t think I broke anything.”

“I am so sorry. It appears that the wings are more sensitive than I thought.”

“No kidding.” Jeremy pressed his fingers to his cheek. He was lucky. The clawed joint of Michael’s wing had hit him just below the eye. Any higher, and he might’ve lost it completely. “Now what?”

“I suppose I should just sit under the water and hope for the best.”

“I think Gregory and Evan mentioned messages working out the soreness. Maybe I could at the very least-“

“I think we should avoid that for now,” Michael replied, his voice sounding stiff. “You have already been hurt once today.”

“Michael.” Jeremy tried to make his voice sound stern. “I knew the risks when I offered to help. So let me help.”

“Fine. Just do not do anything that will put you in danger again.”

“Don’t lie about how much it hurts next time,” Jeremy shot back. “Still gotta get all that blood out of your wings, you know.”

Michael clenched his jaw, but he only stared down into his hands. He couldn’t face Jeremy with the nasty cut on his face any longer.

Jeremy was lighter after that. He knew that even pressing a little too hard would make the wings spaz, and over the course of the next few hours, he succeeded with minimal interruptions.

Gregory popped in near the end to check on the progress. “Henry’s back. Do you want me to tell him about this?” He gestured at the entirety of the bathroom.

“I believe he should be informed. Please ensure that my brother does not come to investigate before we are done here.”

“And maybe grab him a dry set of clothes while you’re at it,” Jeremy said. As an afterthought, he looked at himself. “Maybe grab me something too, if you would.”

Gregory rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. How much does it hurt?”

“I suspect that I should be in more pain than I am,” Michael said, considering the question. “But Jeremy has done an excellent job of making sure the process is less than agonizing.”

“Uh, okay?” Gregory shot Jeremy a look.

“I can’t hardly touch him without the wings reacting,” Jeremy explained. “Nearly lost an eye the first time I did that.”

“So it’s bad.”

“It’s bad,” Jeremy agreed.

Gregory shot Michael a look loaded with concern, but he gave Jeremy a thumbs up. “I’ll ask Henry if he can get you guys some dry clothes. Maybe I’ll just imply that something else is going on in here if Evan asks.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made Jeremy’s face burn.

“Gregory-“

But Gregory had already ducked out of the room, laughing quietly to himself. Jeremy sighed, preparing himself for the inevitable glares he’d get from Evan.

Michael sighed softly once Jeremy finally went to smooth out the wings. “That feels really nice.”

“Glad to hear it,” Jeremy said softly. “I think we got all the blood out.”

“Is it time to turn the water off then?” Michael asked, his eyes closing.

“I’d say so.” Thank goodness, Jeremy thought as he turned the dials back and pressed the tab down. “Now you need to dry off a bit.”

“Mmmmm….” Michael hummed to himself as Jeremy stepped into the tub with a towel and started rubbing Michael’s head with it.

Michael’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at Jeremy. “You really do like taking care of me, don’t you?”

Jeremy huffed out a sigh. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, would I?”

“I thought you just stuck around to steal our Coca Cola.”

“That too. But I do enjoy your company, Mike.”

The smile broke into a full grin as Michael tugged the towel out of Jeremy’s hands. “That is wonderful news, Jeremy.”

Did he really not know? Jeremy wondered.

Before he had a chance to answer, Henry peered into the bathroom, assessing the pool of water on the floor. He raised a tired eyebrow as he observed the two boys in the bathtub. “I wasn’t inclined to believe Gregory before, but seeing it for myself…”

Jeremy’s face ignited with heat. “I was just helping clean blood from his wings. Nothing else happened, I swear.”

“I was referring to the fact that Michael grew wings. What did you think I meant?” Henry’s eyebrows scrunched, and Michael gave Jeremy a funny look.

“I thought Gregory might’ve said something else,” Jeremy replied, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

“Are you alright, Jeremy? You look a bit feverish…” A frown tugged at the corner of Michael’s mouth.

“I’m going to go grab some more towels. And you two will be wanting a dry set of clothes, won’t you?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy nodded quickly.

Henry hummed at them before walking back out of the room.

“I am grateful for both you and Gregory,” Michael said, using the towel to dry the rest of his body. He slowly rose to his feet, finally able to stand on his own.

Jeremy determinedly did not stare. Instead, he wrung water from his hair.

“I would offer you the towel, but I believe it is too wet to be any real help. Seeing as your clothes are also drenched, the best course of action is to wait for Henry to return.”

Jeremy smiled weakly. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Michael stepped out of the tub, hanging the towel back on the rack after he went. Jeremy could admit that the wings looked pretty good on Mike. He’d been weary of it when he’d first seen the wings on Gregory, and he knew that Gregory was defensive about it now. But maybe seeing him help Michael would help.

“Do you need a bandage for your face?” Michael asked, making eye contact with Jeremy through the mirror above the sink.

“Oh, I uh.” Jeremy blinked at him. “It doesn’t… It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Michael’s mouth twitched. “I understand that me being like this must be unpleasant for you, but that does not mean you do not need assistance with that cut.”

Being like this? Was Michael phrasing things like that on purpose? Was he talking about the fact that he was in his boxers or the fact that he had wings? Jeremy crossed his arms before remembering that his shirt was soaked. He uncrossed them and simply said, “There is no problem. I just don’t need a Band-Aid.”

Michael walked back over, and Jeremy tried to take a step back before remembering he was standing in a bathtub. Trapped, Jeremy stood stiffly as Michael ran a thumb over his scratch. Don’t flinch, he told himself, but it still stung. The cut was pretty deep.

“You likely do need a bandage, despite your claim otherwise,” Michael replied. “I can help, if you need assistance.”

Michael gently wiped blood from Jeremy’s face and went in search of medical supplies. It stung when he cleaned the wound, but Jeremy found himself too fascinated by Michael’s cautious care to really notice. The tiniest furrow in Michael’s eyebrows appeared when he put the bandage on Jeremy’s face, and his hands lingered on Jeremy’s jaw for just a moment too long.

He almost seemed sad when he stepped back from Jeremy. “All better. See?” Michael smiled so quickly Jeremy wondered if he’d imagined the pain in Michael’s eyes.

“Y… yeah. Um. Thanks.” Jeremy touched the bandage, surprised by how big it was. “I didn’t realize the scratch was that big.”

“I still feel terrible for doing that to you. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” Michael asked.

Unable to come up with anything to say other than a request for Michael to kiss him, Jeremy shook his head and turned his attention to Michael’s wings. “Do they still hurt?”

“Not as much as they did,” Michael flexed them experimentally. Jeremy smiled faintly, recalling that Gregory was having immense difficulty controlling his own wings. Perhaps the size made it easier.

Michael made a face. “It appears that moving them still hurts, however.”

“Evan mentioned something about messaging the muscles earlier. He was doing it for Gregory.”

Michael brightened. “I suppose I shall have to ask for Evan’s help with that endeavor then. Thank you for the reminder.”

I could do it for you, Jeremy thought desperately. He didn’t want to just have to leave after everything. This was the most time he’d spent with Michael before, and the guy was just so chill about everything. But being in the same space as him, watching him interact with his brother and Gregory made him want to stay so much longer. Michael Afton was the most compassionate person Jeremy had ever met, and he wanted to be able to help the man who tried so hard to help everyone else.

It didn’t help that Jeremy was also hopelessly in love with him.

As Jeremy opened his mouth to speak, Henry returned with the changes of clothes. Michael turned his attention away from Jeremy to thank Henry and apologize for the water all over the floor, and Jeremy was left to awkwardly collect the pile of bloody clothes on the floor to offer them to Henry.

Henry stared at the rags for a moment, his face paling significantly. “These were Michael’s clothes?”

“Yes.” Michael was separating the clothes to split between himself and Jeremy, and he was hardly focused on Henry. “I could not find a way to safely remove my shirt without causing more pain, so Jeremy helped me cut it off. I am afraid blood does not come out of denim very easily, so my jeans are also a lost cause.”

Brightening, Michael put a bundle of clothing into Jeremy’s arms. “You can change in Charlie’s old room.”

“Why can’t you both change in here?” Henry asked, sounding confused.

Pressure built in Jeremy’s throat as he tried to answer that question. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of himself. Not by any measure at all. He just knew it was dangerous, what he was. People didn’t exactly approve of people like him, after all. Especially not here.

Michael gave Henry a scathing look as tears built up behind Jeremy’s eyes. “Maybe we don’t want to change in the same room.”

Henry blinked in surprise, but he glanced between the two boys for a moment before making his exit. Michael patted Jeremy’s shoulder. “I can go to Charlie’s room instead, if you would prefer to change in here.”

Jeremy still couldn’t speak, so he just nodded. The gentle way Michael nodded back at him filled his body with a strange warmth. A few moments later, Michael was gone, and Jeremy could finally change out of the sopping wet layers he’d been in this whole time.

Half-way through changing, Jeremy noticed that most of the clothes were baggy and easy to layer over each other. There were almost too many options. A jolt ran through him when he considered that Michael had sorted through the clothes. Either Michael was very particular, or he knew.

Hurriedly, Jeremy finished changing and practically ran to the bedroom where Michael said he’d be changing. He basically flung the door open to a startled Mike, who had jeans on but no shirt. “Is something wrong?” Michael asked.

His wings and hair fluffed up, like he’d been expecting a threat, but his expression was one of concern. Jeremy knew he was shaking, knew he wouldn’t be able to speak for a moment, but he stood there and just stared. Why did Michael have to be adorable in everything he did? The way his mouth curled into a frown made half of his mouth seem to vanish, like he was biting on it constantly distracted Jeremy from what he wanted to say.

He let his eyes wander over Michael’s bare torso as he tried to find the words to speak. The worst of his secrets was surely out already, and if Michael figured out his feelings, it would be less painful than him knowing the other secret.

Fascination over the jagged scar across Michael’s chest sprouted in his heart. Jeremy had seen it before, of course. He’d seen it in the bathroom, but he’d been trying not to stare before.

“Jeremy?” Michael looked worried now. “Are you alright?”

Maybe Michael didn’t know. Maybe he just hadn’t grabbed a shirt at all, since they had to be cut specifically for the wings anyway. Jeremy was probably just overreacting. And even if he wasn’t, it seemed that Michael wasn’t going to bring it up. “Uhmm. I just… wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Michael relaxed. “I’m quite alright, Jeremy. I’m not as weak as I was before. The shower certainly helped.”

“You’re um. You’re very fluffy right now.”

“Am I?” Michael ran a hand through his hair, feeling where it stuck up all over the place. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Jeremy cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thanks for talking to Henry back there.”

“It was nothing.” Michael blinked at him, wings twitching. “Gregory did a good job cleaning up.” He gestured at the carpet and the bed.

The bed was made very neatly, corners tucked so much better than Jeremy could do on a good day. There were only faint hints that someone had been bleeding there, and they were only visible because Jeremy was looking for them. “Yeah. He certainly did.”

A fond smile crossed Michael’s face at that. “He’s so sweet.”

Jeremy didn’t really believe that, but he nodded anyway. He didn’t want Michael to stop smiling for anything. It was so much better than his frown in every possible way.

“We should… I um. I think we should probably head back to the living room,” Jeremy said awkwardly.

“Right, yes. I suppose it is almost time for you to head home too.” Michael blinked, like he was shaking himself out of a daydream. “Or maybe you could stay for supper?”

Jeremy smiled. “I would love that.”

Evan was awestruck when he saw his brother’s wings. “They’re so big!”

“Soft too,” Jeremy said, trying to encourage Evan’s excitement.

Gregory made a noise in the back of his throat before saying, “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

Jeremy stared at him, mouth opening and closing without words coming out.

“No softer than yours, I’m sure,” Michael said, trying to keep the peace. There wasn’t even a hint of a blush on his face at Gregory’s words. Were the jokes just going over his head? Maybe Jeremy was reading too much into it.

Shaking his head, Jeremy plopped down on the couch beside Gregory. “What happened to your face?” Gregory asked quietly.

“I wasn’t careful enough,” Jeremy answered, glancing at the two brothers as they talked about Michael’s new wings. “And Mike’s wings pack quite the punch.”

“Oh.” Gregory’s eyes widened with understanding. “That could’ve been bad.”

“You’re telling me, kid.” Jeremy shook his head, taking a sip from his can of Coke. “What were you and Evan up to today?”

“Videogames mostly,” Gregory replied. “Although everything here is so old.”

“Old?” Jeremy wrinkled his nose. “Nah, my parents are worse. You’re probably just picky. A bunch of this stuff is newer than anything my family could afford.”

“Your motorcycle is cool though.”

Jeremy smiled. “It is pretty cool.”

“Can you take me on it sometime?”

The smile faltered slightly. “Uh, I don’t know.”

“C’mon, please? All the stuff here is pretty boring, and I know Evan tries to be fun, but you can only play the same game for so long before it’s lame. And I don’t want to have to tell him it’s lame. It’s awful when he cries.”

Jeremy didn’t know what to make of that. “Maybe we could play a board game or something.”

“I wanna go on your bike sometime.” Gregory stuck out his chin stubbornly. “Or I’m going to tell Mike you have the biggest crush on him and-“

“Okay, okay! I get it. But you’ll have to wear a helmet,” Jeremy said, looking away and tugging at his shirt. “And long pants. Just in case.”

“Okay, Dad.” Gregory rolled his eyes.

“Well, you’re the one who said it’s awful when Evan cries,” Jeremy shot back. “And I’ve already seen how Mike cries, and I don’t want to see that again. No thanks.”

Gregory flinched at that. “I…”

“Not to frighten you, but it can be dangerous.” Jeremy sighed. “There’s only so much you can be safe. Not to quote my mom, but ‘I’d rather you be late than dead.’ It’s just that kind of thing.”

Seeing Gregory’s expression, he softened. “I’m a firm believer in the fact that both of us are going to get lectured by Michael when he finds out. So, when he tries, we’re going to tell him that I already told you all the risks and you still wanted to do it. Unless I’ve changed your mind.”

“No, haven’t changed my mind.” Gregory scooted closer to Jeremy. “I bet I’d survive a crash better than you.”

“No way,” Jeremy laughed. “With the way you’re built? No offense, but you’d be a splatter on the cement.”

“Rude.” Gregory scoffed. Not subtly at all, he tried to steal Jeremy’s Coke from his hand.

Amused, Jeremy let him. Gregory immediately started downing what was left in the can. At that moment, Michael glanced over and gasped. “Gregory! Is that Coke? Are you encouraging this, Jeremy?”

“He took the can out of my hand. I didn’t do anything,” Jeremy smiled cheekily. “Not my fault he’s so fast.”

“Mmmmm,” Gregory squinted skeptically at the can. “This is Coke?”

“Yeah?” Jeremy looked confused. “Why? Does it taste weird to you or something?”

“It’s better than I remember.”

Michael sighed, removing the can from Gregory’s hands. “That is because Coca-Cola has different flavoring in it than you remember.”

“Are you talking about the whole cocaine in Coke thing? Because I thought that was a myth.”

Michael shot Jeremy an exasperated look. “That is not what I am talking about. Anyway, Gregory does not need caffeine in his system at this time of day. He won’t get any sleep at this rate.”

“Whoops?” Jeremy held his hands up in surrender. “Look I-“

“It does not matter.” Michael shot Gregory a meaningful look. “So long as he doesn’t keep Evan up with his extra energy, it should be fine.”

Evan peered at them all from behind the sofa. “How did he even take it from you? I thought you kept a tight grip on those at all times.”

“Caught me by surprise?” Jeremy shifted his weight as Michael gave him a skeptical look. “He’s faster than he looks, I swear.”

Evan snorted, climbing over the back of the sofa, much to Michael’s despair as he said, “Well, that gives him a one-up in physical games I guess.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? I totally crush at Fazblock!” Gregory crossed his arms. “I had more blocks than you did.”

“Gregory, you’re supposed to get rid of the blocks, not keep them on the screen.” Evan shook his head despairingly. “I would’ve explained the rules if you’d asked-“

“It was different than what I’m used to, okay?” Gregory rolled his eyes. “I could totally beat you at Fazzy Kart.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Evan replied. “I still think you made it up.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

“Okay, that is enough.” Michael shook his head, smiling faintly. “Gregory did not make it up. Fazzy Kart just has not come out yet.” He ruffled Evan’s hair before walking away with the empty Coke can. “And I have something for you two to do when I get back!”

“A task?” Gregory asked.

“A task.” Evan snorted. “Ah yes, my brother typically assigns me tasks. No, Gregory. He’s sending us to do chores or something. Usually he’s more mean about it though.”

“No one understands my jokes.” Gregory’s wing twitched irritably.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jeremy replied. “He still laughed, even if he didn’t get it. Be nonsensical! Nobody cares as long as you’re funny.”

“That’s a terrible line of logic. I refuse to believe that people willingly follow your example,” Michael said, returning with a sheet of paper. “Evan, Gregory, I am trusting you two to find everything on this list and bring it back here.”

“We don’t have money,” Gregory said, but he still took the list from Michael’s hands. “And aren’t we supposed to stay inside until we figure out what to do about our wings? And wait, is it safe to-“

“You worry too much, Gregory. We can just ask Uncle Henry for help.” Evan peered at the grocery list. “What are you making, Mikey? This looks like spaghetti sauce, but you don’t use half this stuff normally.”

“Wait and see,” Michael said cryptically. His own wings twitched as he spoke, even seeming a tiny bit ruffled.

“With the overabundance of clothes Henry seems to have, maybe he has jackets you can just throw on over the wings or something,” Jeremy said, slowly rising from the couch as Gregory and Evan stood to examine the list closer.

“We can handle this,” Evan said with full confidence. “And we’ll try to be fast so you can get started sooner.”

“Thank you, Evan.” There was a deeper tone of relief in Michael’s voice at that. “My heroes.”

Jeremy smiled wearily at them all. “I should probably get going.” It felt like intruding to stay this long. Sure, they all tried to include him, but Michael probably had other things he planned to do while Evan and Gregory were gone. Perhaps he needed to talk to his uncle more or something. Regardless, Jeremy had overstayed his welcome.

“I thought you said you could stay for supper.” Michael sounded wounded. “Are you feeling alright? Do you need to lie down?”

He pressed his hand against Jeremy’s forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever.”

“I’m fine, Michael. I just don’t want to overstay my welcome, you know?” Jeremy ducked away from Michael’s hand and kept his gaze on the carpet. “Especially if you’re all going to be busy.”

“I won’t be busy until they get back,” Michael replied as Gregory tugged on Evan’s shirt to lead him away. “And even then, I won’t be too busy to talk. You can sit with me in the kitchen while I cook.”

“Yeah but…” Jeremy hesitated, combing a hand through his hair. “Look, I just don’t want to be in the way.”

“You won’t be,” Michael insisted. He sat down on the sofa where Gregory had been sitting before. Patting the cushion next to him, he waited for Jeremy to sit back down.

When Jeremy sat down, Michael gestured for him to scoot closer. “What are you doing?” Jeremy asked nervously.

“Your hair is a mess,” Michael replied. “I’m going to fix it for you.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy frowned, patting his hair self-consciously.

“It’s all tangled. That’s going to be a nightmare to brush out tomorrow if you don’t take care of it tonight.”

“Oh.” Jeremy looked away. “It shouldn’t be your responsibility-“

“My wings shouldn’t have been yours,” Michael countered. “Let me do a nice thing for you. Please.”

“I helped with your wings because I wanted to spend time with you. Not because it was a burden, Mike.”

“This isn’t a burden to me either. Let me help. Maybe I want to spend more time with you too.”

Jeremy didn’t have a counter to that, so he reluctantly sighed. “Just… be gentle on it, okay?”

“Of course.” He blinked, seemingly surprised that Jeremy gave in so easily. “I do need to go grab a brush and a comb.”

“Naturally.” Jeremy shifted uncomfortably on the sofa as Michael got up.

What was he even supposed to say to Michael? He hadn’t expected to get this far, and now faced with the opportunity to have a casual conversation with him, Jeremy panicked.

When Michael got back, the hair brush he carried had long strands of dark brown hair in it, and both the brush and the comb were shining with water. “I hope you don’t mind,” Michael said awkwardly. “But I know that hair gets really, really tangled, so I just wanted to make sure I could get the tangles out without hurting you.”

Oh. That was… surprisingly considerate. “And the water is supposed to fix tangles?”

“Better than a dry brush.”

Jeremy just stared. The most he’d been able to do with his hair was to throw it into the world’s worst ponytail when he needed it out of his face. All this talk of the more effective way to brush through his hair without making it hurt stirred something in his chest. There was nothing Michael would do that could possibly hurt more than the way he was currently doing his hair.

Michael sat back down and got to work. It was strange. Jeremy hadn’t had anyone brush his hair in a long time. His mother had been too busy with work to even notice that he needed help with his hair. Or anything really.

“You have really thick hair,” Michael mused softly.

“Yeah. Makes it a real pain sometimes,” Jeremy replied.

Michael was so gentle with it, apologizing softly when the brush scraped his ear or a snag was too rough. Eventually, though, he set the brush aside and started dividing his hair.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you with your hair,” Michael replied as he started braiding it. “I assume you don’t have a hair brush for yourself, or maybe you just don’t have much time to do your hair every day. But at the very least, braiding it back at night prevents most tangles from getting worse.”

“How do you know so much about this stuff, dude?” Jeremy wondered. “Like, you know more about this than I do.”

“I…” Michael hesitated. “Evan’s not my only sibling. I had a sister. Elizabeth. Her hair was more of a nightmare than this.”

“Oh.” Jeremy fidgeted. He didn’t know what to do with that information.

“And, there!” Michael twisted a ponytail into the end of Jeremy’s hair. “Less problems for later, see?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy touched a hand to the braid, smiling softly. “Thanks, man.”

“It’s nothing.”

“But I say it is something. Come here, Mike.”

Michael’s wings fluffed up ever so slightly, but he did as Jeremy asked, unprepared for the tackle-hug Jeremy gave him. He gasped in alarm as they ended up on the floor, but when he looked up at Jeremy, it was with what Jeremy could only describe as adoration. Then he was suddenly pressed completely up against Michael as his wings wrapped around them both.

Of course, that was also the moment Evan and Gregory came back from their shopping trip with the supplies Michael had asked for. Letting Jeremy up, Michael immediately accepted the groceries from Evan and went straight to the kitchen. Gregory and Evan were left staring at Jeremy, who was sitting with a ridiculous grin on his face.

“Might need some help preparing this!” Michael called.

Before any of them could move toward the door, however, Henry walked by to go help Michael. Which left Jeremy to get teased by the two younger boys.

“What was that about?” Evan asked, picking a long blue feather out of Jeremy’s hair.

“What were you doing on the floor?” Gregory asked.

“Mike did my hair,” Jeremy replied, gesturing at the hairbrush that now had long strands of gold intertwined with the brown.

Evan looked thoughtful as he fiddled with the feather. “I didn’t know Mikey knew how to do hair.”

“Didn’t you tell me you had a sister?” Gregory asked, picking a smaller, brown feather from Jeremy’s shirt. “He could’ve done her hair once or twice.”

“Maybe…” Evan didn’t sound very sure. “Mikey wasn’t… I don’t know. Maybe he did. I never knew, though.”

“He did mention it when I asked…” Jeremy said, suddenly embarrassed to know more than Evan.

Evan fiddled with the feather more. “He seems to like you a lot.”

“Mike?” Jeremy asked, even more embarrassed now.

“Yeah. He smiles when he talks to you.”

“Except that one day,” Gregory interrupted. “He came inside and cried.”

“That was something else, I think,” Evan responded. “I think the Nightmares finally got to him.”

“So I take it Mike doesn’t usually talk about his issues then?”

“Not usually.” Evan squirmed, his wings puffing up. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shook his head and finally got off the floor. “Do you want to try playing Kings in the Corner again?”

“Ugh, that’s so boring,” Gregory replied, but Evan was already rushing off to get the cards.

“I need a second. I’ll be right back,” Jeremy said, slipping into the kitchen to grab another can of Coke.

Michael glanced over from where he was cutting an onion and just sighed. “Jeremy-“

“I know, I know. It’s bad for me or whatever. But I need it, okay?” Jeremy took a long swig from the can. “Better than some habits.”

“Still…”

“It’s fine dude. Cut your onion or whatever.”

Henry said something that Jeremy didn’t catch as he rushed back to the living room. “Okay, are we ready to start?”

“This game is stupid,” Gregory grumbled. He was holding his seven cards, and Evan had already laid out the board.

“I dealt, so Gregory goes first,” Evan replied, ignoring Gregory’s comment.

“Lucky,” Jeremy said, eyeing the board.

“I don’t even know how to play,” Gregory complained. “This game is for old people.”

“I guess we’re old then.” Jeremy’s eyes twinkled. “You have to play a card from your hand onto one of those four cards.” He pointed at the two of diamonds, the king of spades, the four of diamonds, and the seven of diamonds respectively. “You want it to be a lower rank, or less points than the card on the stack. And it’s gotta be the opposite color.”

“Oh.” Gregory stared at his hand for a moment.

“You gotta tell him about the kings, Jeremy.” Evan shook his head. “If there’s a king, you can move it into the spaces between the four other cards, and put a new foundation card down.”

“Huh.” Gregory frowned. “This is too confusing.”

“It really isn’t,” Jeremy laughed, taking another sip from his Coke. “If you really want, you can add your cards back to the foundation pile and watch me and Evan play a game.”

“I’m just going to do that.” Gregory stuck his cards back in the bigger stack.

“Suits don’t matter,” Evan said helpfully. “Only color does.”

Jeremy set off to move the king, and the game begun. Evan went out on his first turn.

“Okay, that was a bad example,” Evan said with a grin.

“You didn’t shuffle very well,” Jeremy said accusingly.  “That was- arghhh. We’re playing another game so Gregory can actually see how the game works.”

“Are we doing points?” Evan said innocently.

“We will once Gregory joins in,” Jeremy replied, collecting the cards from the board. “These are warm-up rounds.”

“Riiiiight,” Gregory replied with an amused snort. “You just got destroyed.”

“Thank you for the obvious and accurate commentary, Gregory.” Jeremy rolled his eyes.

When he flipped the four cards over, three of them were kings. Jeremy let out an indignant noise as Gregory burst out laughing and Evan grinned at the board. Just like that, he was down to one card. Jeremy scowled at his own cards as it became his turn.

“All four kings on the board in the first turn,” he grumbled.

“Now who’s bad at shuffling?” Evan replied, watching Jeremy’s hand drop to three cards.

“Oh, shut up.”

Evan snickered as it became his turn. “I almost wonder if you were trying to let me win.” He took the ace of diamonds and placed it on the two of clubs that Jeremy had missed during his turn. “Do you have the hang of it yet, Gregory? We may need a third player or this are going to be some very quick games.”

“Ha ha.” Jeremy said as Evan gathered up the cards again. “I’m just used to people who aren’t paying attention nearly as much as you do.”

“I’m just playing the game,” Evan said with a cheeky grin. “You had a six of spades in your hand? You could’ve played that on the seven-“

“I don’t want to hear it!” Jeremy sighed, exaggerating his grief as he drank from his can. “You have eyes like a hawk.”

Evan just hummed at that, his eyes twinkling as he shuffled the cards again. “What do you say, Gregory? Want to try and give it another shot?”

“Sure. Can’t be any worse than Jeremy, right?”

“Alright, I get it.” Jeremy shook his head. “I guess this game isn’t as awful as you want to claim it is, huh?”

“We’ll see.”

Evan pulled out a baggy filled with little red chips and shook it for a moment. “I didn’t have a chance to grab paper, so we can just play with chips, right?”

“Let’s give Gregory one trial run first,” Jeremy said as Gregory stared blankly at the chip bag. “Let him get a feel for the game.”

Gregory’s first round went okay. He managed to play half his cards in the first go, but he failed to notice that he could’ve moved the king to the corner right away, and Jeremy took advantage of that. Humming to himself, Jeremy quickly went through his turn and waited for Evan.

“That is absurd,” Gregory said, watching Evan put down cards and move piles around rapidly. “There’s no way you’re not cheating.”

“It’s all natural, Gregory,” Evan said cheerfully. “You’re just mad because I’m better at games than you are.”

“Grrrrrr….” Gregory scowled as Evan tapped his own card against the table. He put down his one card and waited for Jeremy to go.

Adding another person really did slow down the game a lot, Jeremy thought to himself. This was the first round someone had actually had to draw a card. Evan hummed, but he also needed to draw a card. Unlike Jeremy, however, Evan couldn’t play his. Finally, the game was even again.

Gregory scowled at his cards. “What do I do if I can’t play?”

“Draw,” Jeremy said. “We’ve both done it.”

Grumbling, Gregory drew a card. He brightened as he realized he could play it, and then it was Jeremy’s turn. Jeremy sighed in relief as he was able to play a card on Gregory’s queen, and then move a ten on top of that. Moment of truth, he thought to himself as Evan studied his hand. Michael’s brother shook his head and drew another card. And promptly played it.

Gregory and Jeremy both groaned at that. “See, but now things get interesting,” Evan said cheerfully. “We’ve all been drawing cards and actually have to pay attention to the board.”

“Don’t you always have to pay attention to the board?” Gregory asked as he drew another card. “Ugh.”

“Depends on how close,” Jeremy said smugly, laying down his one card. “I win this round.”

Evan sighed wearily, but he said nothing as Jeremy collected the cards to shove them at Gregory. “Your turn to shuffle.”

Gregory pushed the cards back at Jeremy. “I don’t know how.”

“I guess I can do it for you. But you’re still dealing, alright? Seven cards to each of us.”

Gregory nodded as Jeremy shuffled, and Evan quickly explained how chips worked. Everyone put one chip in at the beginning. Then, when you drew a card, you’d put another chip in. Each card at the end of the game still in your hand was another chip, except for kings. Kings were ten chips.

They all put one chip in the middle as Gregory passed out cards.

“Ready for your first real round, Gregory?” Jeremy asked, looking over his cards.

Gregory huffed, but he nodded anyway. “This is still dumb.”

“What if we made it a bit more fun?” Evan asked. “I’ll put in this feather.” He held up the blue feather he’d picked out of Jeremy’s hair.

“We’re playing for feathers?” Gregory asked. “But we both have feathers.”

“Not just any feathers. Michael’s feathers. I know him better than you do, trust me. He wouldn’t just give those away.”

Gregory considered it for a moment as Jeremy bit his lip. It seemed plenty easy to get feathers in his opinion. Michael shed two of them while Jeremy hugged him before. “Deal. I’ll put in this one.”

Gregory set the brown feather on top of the three chips. Evan did the same with the blue feather. Both of them glanced at Jeremy expectantly.

“I don’t have any. You both took those from me in the first place.” Jeremy rolled his eyes. The feathers were cool, though.

He kind of wished he had some of his own, maybe to braid through his hair or something. But that required winning this game. And since Evan was really good at Kings in the Corner, and also used all the chips in the box, it was really unlikely that he’d win them at the end.

“How about…” Jeremy put twenty more chips in the pot. “I know it doesn’t balance out at all, but you two seem to really want those feathers.”

Evan grinned, and so, the game began.

Gregory surprised them all by nearly going out in his first turn, but Evan still won the first game. They played in relative silence, too busy concentrating to hold a proper conversation. Evan crushed them in the first few rounds, but Gregory eventually got a win when Evan had 6 cards in his hand, resulting in a somewhat decent counter-balance.

It did nothing for Jeremy though. He looked nervously at his dwindling pile of chips every time the game ended and knew it was very unlikely that he’d win. It wasn’t impossible, sure, but it was incredibly unlikely.

“This is eight, Gregory,” Evan said absently, after Jeremy had already played his first turn. “We can play it, but you should pay better attention.”

Jeremy bit his lip at that. He was losing really bad. He really needed a win, and he needed one where the other two were struggling. Accidentally starting a round on eight cards was not a great way to start that.

“How did you even notice that?” Gregory asked.

“Eight feels thicker than seven.”

“How much do you play cards? Jeez,” Jeremy asked as it became Gregory’s turn.

“Enough,” Evan said with an amused smile. “I usually play alone.”

“This doesn’t feel like a game you can play alone,” Gregory muttered.

“You can. It’s just not as fun. But I don’t play this,” Evan said as Jeremy had to draw yet again. “I play Solitare.”

“Right, silly me.” Gregory shook his head. “Dude, how are you losing the game you suggested?”

“It takes a lot of luck, Gregory.” Jeremy sighed, having emptied his can of Coke long ago. “I’ve already accepted my fate. Now it’s just a matter of wondering who wins overall.”

They all fell quiet again as they settled back into their concentration. A few tense rounds went by as they all drew cards. When Evan finally played a card, Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he’d last another round.

Or… maybe not. It was a close thing, that balance between drawing and playing. “Are we going to go through the whole deck?” Gregory eventually wondered.

“Maybe,” Jeremy replied wearily.

The pot was massive at this point. Evan’s brow was continuously furrowed, and even his wings were stiff with concentration. There’s no strategy that trumps the good cards being at the bottom of the deck, Jeremy thought to himself with grim amusement.

“Ha!” Gregory shouted his delight as he finally laid his last card.

Jeremy sighed sorrowfully as he glanced at his four chips. He would only have two left for another game after this. If only it had been Jeremy who’d drawn the card to end the game.

“I don’t even remember who shuffled that one,” Jeremy said as Gregory gathered the pot.

“It was Gregory. He started us with eight cards,” Evan replied. “You shuffle next.”

“I’m not going to make it through this game,” Jeremy muttered.

“Then we’ll just play it out, and you can be done after,” Evan shrugged. “Who knows, maybe you’ll win?”

“For every draw you have that you can’t play, I’ll put in a chip,” Gregory offered as Jeremy put his last chip in the pot. “It’ll keep things fair.”

“I’m sure,” Jeremy muttered.

“Awww, you are a grumpy old man. Evan look! He’s so grumpy.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”

Evan put his last card down, and Jeremy shook his head. “I’m out. Good luck, Gregory.”

He wondered what Michael and Henry were up to in the kitchen. It had been two hours of this, after all. Surely preparing a meal wouldn’t take that long, especially since Evan implied Michael was making spaghetti.

“Okay, I gotta know. What spaghetti takes three hours to make?” Jeremy said, sitting down at the kitchen table with Henry.

“It’s not the spaghetti that takes so long,” Michael replied from the stove. “It’s the sauce.”

“But why?”

“The flavor has to soak in from the leaves.” Michael shrugged, moving to sit down with them. “What were you playing in there?”

“Cards.” Jeremy shrugged. “Gregory said it was for old people.”

“Then he must have never played cards before,” Henry commented.

“Maybe it’s his age,” Michael suggested.

“Nah. Your brother got really into it. He’s been beating both of us.”

“THAT’S SO STUPID!!!” Gregory shouted from the other room.

Evan laughed and said something in response, as they all glanced toward the hallway.

“No way,” Gregory said, his voice still projecting from the other room. “That’s so stupid!”

“I think the sauce is about done,” Michael said, rising from his seat again. “I should probably begin on the actual spaghetti.”

“I appreciate you deciding to cook for us, Michael,” Henry said. “And not that I’m complaining about your food, but this seems more complicated than some of the other stuff you’ve made.”

Michael just blinked at him, filling a pot with water. “It’s just spaghetti.”

Gregory and Evan walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “It smells great in here,” Evan said.

Michael glanced at his brother and at Gregory for a moment. “Who won?”

“Evan,” Gregory grumbled crossing his arms. “But he cheats.”

“I do not! Withholding cards on my turn is within the rules of the game. Just because it means you have to draw more doesn’t mean it’s cheating!” Evan argued.

“He’s right, Gregory. If he’s withholding cards, it’s still a risk to him since you can easily draw a card at any moment and win the game yourself. There’s a reason it’s ten chips if you’re holding a king at the end of the game.”

“Hmph,” Gregory scowled.

“Jeremy, do you need a new bandage for your face?” Henry asked as Gregory and Evan glared at each other from across the table.

“What? Oh, I’m sure it’s fine.” Jeremy hadn’t realized that the edge of his bandage was peeling off.

“We’ll get that taken care of later,” Henry said. “Were you planning on staying over tonight?”

“I…” Jeremy glanced around the room. “I don’t know.”

“If you decide to stay, let me know so I can tell your parents,” Henry replied, seemingly satisfied. “And would you like another can of Coca-Cola?”

“Yes please.”

“Don’t encourage his addiction, Henry.” Michael crossed his arms as he leaned against the counter.

Jeremy responded by sticking his tongue out at Michael. Michael shook his head and rolled his eyes, but Jeremy saw a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Can I have one too?” Gregory asked.

“Absolutely not,” Michael replied. His wings twitched slightly. “You’re done with caffeine for the rest of the night. If you’re this loud after half a can, I shudder to think of what would happen if you got a full can of Coke.”

“You’re not my mom,” Gregory grumbled.

Jeremy’s mouth twitched. “He tries to act like it though, doesn’t he?”

Michael made an indignant noise as Gregory burst out laughing. Evan giggled too, adding, “Mama bird Mike.”

All three of them broke into bad laughing fits at that one. Henry and Michael just exchanged an exasperated look as Michael stirred the spaghetti. “I can act like it if you really want me to,” Michael eventually said. “But I don’t think you’d like the response, seeing as you two are baby birds in this analogy.”

“What do you mean?” Gregory asked, bewildered.

“I think what he’s getting at,” Jeremy said, amusement glinting in his eye, “is that mother birds regurgitate food into their chicks mouths.”

“Ewwwww,” Gregory gagged.

Evan snorted. “Mikey wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Michael raised an eyebrow. “I’ve certainly done worse.”

Evan froze at that. He seemed to be considering Michael’s point. “He totally would…” Evan sounded horrified.

“And with that terrible mental image, it seems that the spaghetti is done!” Henry said, putting a can of Coke in front of Jeremy before going to fetch everyone plates.

“I just need to strain the noodles, and we’re all set,” Michael said. “Could you grab the strainer please?”

Henry nodded and retrieved the strainer. Evan hummed to himself as he fiddled with the two feathers he’d won in the card game. Gregory said nothing, but Jeremy could tell it he was still bitter from his loss. Surely Michael wouldn’t be unwilling to give up feathers if they asked, Jeremy thought to himself. Maybe he’d be uncomfortable with the idea, but if Gregory said how much he really wanted them, Jeremy was sure Michael would give in eventually.

“It’s going to be hot.” Michael warned, carrying the pot of spaghetti to the table.

Henry quickly placed a potholder beneath it, and Michael went back to retrieve the sauce for the spaghetti. “Do you want to get cups out, Evan?”

Evan nodded and got up from his spot. “Gregory, you can get the plates.”

The whole group cycled around the kitchen like a little family, and Jeremy felt a little self-conscious about his place in everything, so he went and grabbed forks for everyone. It was the least he could do.

Michael dished out the food, putting just enough sauce on their spaghetti that they could avoid it if they wanted to. All of them were a little skeptical of the meal, but they all trusted that Michael knew what he was doing. Gregory and Evan both seemed startled by the taste, but Henry simply raised an eyebrow as he took a bite. Michael didn’t seem particularly concerned about their reaction, though.

He was too busy observing Jeremy when he tried it.

It was… spicier than he expected. Jeremy glanced at Michael, suddenly suspicious of him. Michael blinked at him, casually taking a bite of his own spaghetti. Jeremy glanced at him again before moving his plate to the saucepan full of spaghetti sauce and adding more to his plate.

Michael’s slow smile made Jeremy feel even more confident about his decision. Somehow, Michael had figured him out yet again, almost without effort. Jeremy stuck another forkful in his mouth and smiled back at him.

“Gregory, slow down. You’re going to make yourself sick,” Evan said.

“It’f, fine.” Gregory swallowed hard.

“Careful you don’t choke,” Henry said warningly.

Gregory set his fork down quietly, his eyes watering. He coughed a little bit, causing Michael to turn to him with concern. “Gregory? Are you alright?”

Gregory fanned himself, and Jeremy immediately figured out what was going on. “Too spicy for you? You barely had any!” He shook his head and poured Gregory a glass of milk. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Gregory eagerly took the glass, draining it in less than a minute. “Mmmmm.”

The rest of the meal went in relative silence, with Evan and Henry occasionally teasing Gregory for eating too fast and being unable to handle spicy food. Michael seemed oblivious to the main conversation, smiling softly to himself.

Jeremy knew he was staring, but he figured it wouldn’t be the biggest deal. Plenty of people stared at their friends, right? At the way they twisted spaghetti noodles onto their forks and brought their forks to their mouths. At the way their eyes glowed with joy at making something new successfully.

Michael caught his eye, and the smile widened. Jeremy felt himself smiling back easily. He’d already finished his food, and Evan and Gregory had finished half the spaghetti by themselves. There wouldn’t be many leftovers anyway.

Henry was the first to move from the table. He collected plates from everyone to take to the sink. When Michael moved to help, Henry waved him off, insisting that since Michael made the meal, he shouldn’t have to clean it up, with a meaningful look toward Evan and Gregory. He stopped Jeremy when he tried to get up too, insisting that guests shouldn’t need to help.

“But I thought we were guests,” Gregory grumbled when Evan tapped his arm to help him get up.

“Jeremy, that bandage really does need to be changed before you go,” Henry said quietly, gathering the leftovers into different containers.

“I can help him with it,” Michael said.

“Michael, you’ve done enough today. Especially with how you were feeling this morning-“

“I can help,” Michael interjected stubbornly.

Jeremy raised a confused eyebrow at the way Michael’s wings and hair ruffled.

“You need rest,” Henry said in a tone that brokered no argument.

Still, Michael persisted, the feathers now completely refusing to lay flat. Jeremy wondered how this could possibly be something he’d need to be so defensive about. “Hey, maybe Henry’s right. You have done a lot today.”

Michael scowled at that, and he grabbed Jeremy’s arm and practically dragged him out of his chair.

“What- Hey!” Jeremy stumbled into Micheal, expecting him to apologize or something.

“There’s the old Mike,” Evan mumbled quietly.

Michael’s face was right in front of Jeremy’s as he spoke. “I know my limits.”

“Do you?” Gregory challenged. He didn’t seem frightened in the slightest, which was very different from the atmosphere surrounding Michael at that moment. “To me it seems like you keep going until you drop. Maybe you should just get rid of that chip on your shoulder and let someone else handle it for once!”

“Like you did?” Michael snapped, and at that, Gregory actually flinched. “Sometimes, you can’t trust that help will come, Gregory. You should know that better than anyone.”

Gregory’s grip on the plate in his hands tightened. “Yeah, well, I didn’t have a family who took care of me like you do! So just suck it up.” Jeremy heard tears behind those words, and Evan mumbled something gently to him and tried to get him to turn his back on Michael.

That seemed to break something in Michael’s resilience. His wings twitched, and he let go of Jeremy’s shirt. “Right. Sorry.” He sounded just as torn as Gregory. “I…”

Jeremy figured nothing would be helped by Michael sticking around in the kitchen, so he tentatively put a hand to Michael’s shoulder. “Hey, you can help with my bandage. Maybe just tell me how to put it on so I do it right tomorrow morning, yeah?”

“So you aren’t staying then?” Henry asked, looking worriedly between the four boys.

Michael’s ashen expression was not particularly reassuring. “No, I mean. If it’s okay for me to stay, I plan to. I just… Maybe it should be my responsibility to fix that?” Jeremy gestured at the scratch on his face. “Seems like all I’m doing here is making more messes anyway. Might as well try to clean one up myself, right?”

Henry frowned but he said nothing.

Jeremy leaned close to Michael’s ear. “Come on then.”

“I didn’t mean to… I hurt his feelings,” Michael mumbled as he mechanically peeled the rest of the bandage away from Jeremy’s face to wipe at the scratch with a wet cloth.

“Energy was running high. Maybe you are a bit more overwhelmed then you thought? Frayed nerves break way for anger sometimes. Or so I’ve heard.”

“I still shouldn’t have done that.” Michael couldn’t even look Jeremy in the eye. He was too distraught.

“Why did you get so defensive, if you don’t mind me asking? And I’m not just talking about Gregory. You were adamant about helping me with my bandage.”

“I just…” Michael hesitated. “I haven’t had a chance to see you in days, and I wanted to get every moment I could?”

“An afternoon together wasn’t enough?” Jeremy teased, even though he knew exactly how Michael was feeling. “Look, that’s okay, Mike. But you gotta take care of yourself too.”

“Yeah, but-“

“What do you want? I know you think you have to help everybody all the time, but you’ve gotta have desires too, right?”

“Maybe I don’t deserve to have my desires realized,” Michael replied. He still wasn’t looking at Jeremy. “Maybe I’m just a rotten person who doesn’t deserve joy or anything that doesn’t directly benefit anybody else.”

“Michael Afton.” Jeremy said, trying to sound stern. “You are a human being just like everyone else. We all make mistakes. And you sound like you’re trying to atone for yours. I don’t know about you, but someone who tries to learn from their mistakes sounds like someone who deserves to have what they want every now and again.”

Michael completely froze at that. When he met Jeremy’s eyes, he looked utterly shattered. “I…” He swallowed. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“That’s okay, Mike. No one is asking you to do everything-“

“No, you don’t understand.” His voice was hardly a whisper. “I’ve… That scolding… You’ve said that to me before.”

“I have?”

Michael nodded mutely. “It was right before…” His wings stretched their full length as Michael squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t.”

“What can’t you do, Michael?” Jeremy asked softly.

A pained noise rumbled in Michael’s throat, and he dropped the cloth, yanking Jeremy forward by his shirt. Their mouths crashed together, and all Jeremy could think was finally. His own hands went behind Michael’s shoulders, and he gently guided the wings back into a folded position before stroking them gently.

He didn’t want to stop kissing Michael. It was freeing and exhilarating at the same time. Michael tasted like bubble gum and smelled like clean laundry. He was the weirdest man Jeremy had ever met, but maybe that was what made him so alluring. Or maybe it was something else. Something about all this just seemed so… right.

When Michael broke away, Jeremy tried to follow. Michael looked at him fondly and laughed. “I thought you said I needed to take care of myself.”

“I can’t be that addicting,” Jeremy said impulsively.

Michael snorted. “I need air, Jeremy. We were both going to pass out if we kept that up.”

“Can we do it again?” Jeremy didn’t care about air. He just wanted to be close to Michael, wanted to make him smile, wanted to make him laugh.

Michael laughed again, a brilliant sound, before Jeremy pressed their lips back together. It was completely perfect.

[rad-batson]

Multiverse AU where different variants of Damian Wayne Al Ghul are accidentally hailed to one universe and Damian is in the middle, trying to get all of them back home, but it only gets worse and NOT for the reasons you would think.

So picture this: there’s a sea of Damian variants crowded into the Batcave. One’s a leader of the LOA. Another became the next Harley Quinn? One is a mute assassin. Another is Red Hood’s apprentice. One’s Batman. One’s a meta for some reason. Another is the leader of a revolution. One’s a monk. And another is a clone. They’re all somehow involved in vigilantism or the LOA.

And then there’s a completely normal one. He goes by Dami. He’s in college :) He works at an art studio. He’s got a heart condition. He has a boyfriend, and he has never been Robin before. In fact, he doesn’t even know his dad is Batman. So in a room full of wildly different versions, this Damian sticks out like a sore thumb. He’s like an NPC just standing in the middle of a final battle.

What he does know is that his mother, Talia, left the LOA with him when he was two because she fell in love with Bruce. Since then, the three have lived a Perfectly Normal Life as Perfectly Normal People in a moderately nice house in the suburbs of Gotham.

And you know what? No one questions it. Out of all the problems the Damians are having right now, Normal Damian is the least of them. So he just sits to the side, completely chill, and doesn’t interfere.

But then some chaos happens, the Damians are all sucked into a battle at some secondary location, Normal Dami is kidnapped, gets killed, and everyone’s super depressed about it. (Gosh, he was so nice. Why did it have to be him? Boo hoo. We didn’t even have time to recover the body.)

Until they head back to the cave…and there he is. Respawned. Alive. Confused.

He was literally dead on the floor two hours ago. They checked for a pulse! He bled out. Normal NPC Dami is supposed to be dead. But nope. He’s right there. “Hey, what happened? The last thing I remember is being tied up. Did I faint again?”

Everyone else, the whole batfamily and the mini Damian army, is like “wtf how’d you get here, buddy?” While he’s just like :) so Bruce, who put a bug on the security cameras or whatever, checks the footage and what he finds is absolutely horrifying.

Just after he died, Normal Dami’s eyes snapped open. Glowing a deep Lazarus Green. He stood up, walked out, and immediately fucking decimated the remaining group of kidnappers like a rabid animal. Literally anyone who got near him were goners, and Thank Sweet Jesus he didn’t run into anyone on the walk back because he didn’t care to clean off all that blood. Nope, he just walked right through the front doors of the manor, found a clean set of clothes, completely on autopilot, then all of the adrenaline wore off, and he collapsed from exhaustion.

So everyone watches the footage. NPC Damian is horrified. He insists that’s not him because he doesn’t kill people! How could they ever accuse him of killing people?! He has never done something like that. He can’t even walk up a flight of stairs without getting winded for Christ’s sake!

Nonetheless, he agrees to sit in their itty bitty holding cell as they do some fun little tests, and lo and behold: he is so genetically fucked up. Why? Because his DNA isn’t like the other Damians. It’s completely mutated by this green glowing substance that they know all too well.

The verdict? Normal Dami has been permanently mutated by the Lazarus Pit. The Lazarus Pit is inside of him. It IS him. Or maybe Normal NPC Damian is the Lazarus Pit.

When Normal Dami was two and he and Talia still lived with the LOA, there was an incident involving Damian drowning in the Lazarus Pit (à la Ra’s Al Ghul's Stellar Grand-Parenting Skills.) However, since he wasn’t dead, the Lazarus Pit devoured him, consumed him with violent pit madness, spat him back out, and Damian became this completely, unstoppably rage-filled toddler that can throw you over his shoulder and snap your neck. So Talia, terrified of what Ra’s would do with him, escaped to Gotham, found Bruce, begged for help, and they devised a plan.

Step 1: Raise Lazarus Damian as a completely normal kid.

Step 2: Take him to therapy. Maybe give him anger management classes. (Monitor his sugar intake. That couldn’t hurt.)

That was literally their whole plan. They had no other ideas ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Occasionally, he’d snap and kill someone in cold blood (whoopsie daisy) but his parents were an assassin and the world's greatest detective. No one’s gonna know.

Through some trial and error, they found out that abrupt adrenaline spikes were what triggered the madness. So they worked around it. They gave him calm, relaxing hobbies. They spoiled him with emotional support animals. They Never Raised Their Voices. He was homeschooled for a bit then introduced to university, but only AFTER they made sure Jon (the Indestructable Superboy) was his roommmate. (Yes, they told him. Yes, he is now part of the convoluted Keep Deadly Damian Relaxed Task Force. They’re also dating.) They got Damian a FitBit that tracked his heart rate so they could predict when his adrenaline spiked. They Life360’d his ass so fucking hard. Meanwhile, Damian just thought he had some kind of medical thing, none the wiser the entire time.

Long story short? “Chill Normal NPC Damian” Cannot Die. But he can Kill.

If he does “die” (the Lazarus Pit cannot die) then he goes into a murderous rage, kills everyone in sight, it wears off with the adrenaline, and he can’t remember what happened. This Damian is the Most Dangerous of the variants, and he doesn’t even know it because his parents decided that would be best.

And now the other Damians are scared of him, and he’s scared of himself, and no one knows why he's made of the Lazarus Pit, and they don’t know what to do with him, and they still don’t know how to get back, and some of them want to kill him, and some don't, but no one trusts him, including himself, and it becomes an all-out war over the fate of Damian.

Anyway, Normal Damian who's actually a Murderous Lazarus Spirit without even knowing it. Thank you :)

[eybefioro]

(Kanji-less version, timelapse and ramblings under the cut)

ALSO OPEN THE IMAGE TUMBLR KILLED THE QUALITY AS USUAL

I wasn't sure sure which version was better, so here is the one without the ~~menacing~~ kanji! (And sorry. I'm sure the Kanji I did is horrible but I swear I tried my best)

So. Before some time before Good Omens consuming my every awaken thought, the media that lived in my head was JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. Because of a certain thing I am working on, my mind end up connecting the two and I HAD to do something about it or else I'd go crazy.

(Cues 3 min time lapse bc i spent -checks app- ALMOST 46 HOURS on this thing. Fuck)

Since JJBA is one of my fixations, at some point I end up watching every single interview with Araki (the author) I could get my hands into, and lo and behold he actually shared about his process quite a bit over the years. We even have access to some timelapses of him working on illustrations!!! I tried to follow a bit of his process, and one VERY interesting characteristic of his work is the JoJo pose – very dramatic covers/panels that showcase the character. He often uses fashion shoots as a references (Araki is very inspired by fashion, architecture and music and there is a million references in his work it's very very interesting and fun) like this:

So there I go on Pinterest looking for a fashion photo that inspires me (Google was shit. What is happening to that search engine?) AND I FOUND IT

YALL. IT WAS LIKE A SHOT RIGHT THROUGH MY BRAIN. I COULD SEE IT SO CLEARLY. Aziraphale and Crowley falling out of heaven together after the second coming. Azi holding him. Crowley giving the middle finger to all those fuckers bc HE GOT HIS ANGEL BACK.

But the thing is... the things is. I'm no artist. I have almost no experience drawing. And this is not exactly an easy pose, and is something pretty ambitious for a beginner like me (I can literally count on my hands the amount of digital drawings I have done. It's all on my blog even lol) so like.... the chances of this going well were very slim. But I am very happy with how it turned out!!

I have to thank @elenthyaolyenths and @gribouli LOTS for that. Elen teached me how wings worked, a bit of anatomy with that, a bit of how she makes those beautiful fluid pieces, Li taught me a bit about colors and light/Shadow. Their support was amazing and they're so so nice to me 🥹

I had so much trouble drawing this bc I'm still learning how digital painting works and how Ibis Paint works. Idk what half of the stuff there does LMAO yk the line work? All in one layer. Don't do that folks. I resized the canvas half way through and had to redo a bit of the line art bc I had to scale it a bit to make the proportions better. Half way in I figured out how to make masks (again, elenthya is an angel for telling me that exists) so I had to learn as I went how that thing works (I still don't know how to use it fully). Ibis Paint froze like 4 times bc my phone can't handle it well LMAO my precision is shit bc I mostly draw with my fingers so I had to gave up control and use the stabiliser on maximum... and so on.

I'm having so much trouble with everything in digital painting BUT IT'S SO MUCH FUN. THERE'S SO MANY POSSIBILITIES. I'm excited to keep going and learn more.

Back to the Jojo style. I LOVE IT SO MUCH. I love harsh lines and shadows, the dramatic effects, the detail, the crazy perspectives, the colors... THE WAY ARAKI DRAWS SMOKE AND CLOUDS.

This was my ref for the background, and to represent the heaven Crowley is flipping off and that they're falling from. (fuck this scene in the anime broke me. BUCCIARATI MY BELOVED)

AND THE CLOTHEEEEESSSSS I HAD SO MUCH FUN IMAGINING WHAT THEY'D WEAR IN ARAKI'S STYLE. Obviously Aziraphale is once again sporting something inspired by the crepes look bc omg that was so OVER THE TOP. I'm sure araki would come up with something crazier and more interesting than what I did, but I still think this is a fair shot.

As much as I love JoJo's style I have to say it isn't really an art style made to depict softness. Like. I don't think Araki ever drew something that looks soft. All the characters are slim or super strong, and the few ones that are fat he didn't really... Well. I'm gonna say it. Araki doesn't draw fat people, and when he does I don't think they're a good depiction. As I said he doesn't do softeness lol nothing looks soft in his style, not even fabric I think. It's all sharp lines, dark shadows (again, I love it but yeah) and thin (or extremely big in the first parts) people. This fits really well with Crowley but not so much with Aziraphale. If this was a pose that showed more of him I'd probably not do a great job at it. I think I'd need to go heavy on trying to make his clothes look soft and big to try to make it better.

Now WwwwwiiiIIIIIIINNNNNGGGGGZZZZZZZ!!!! Elen is such a magician at drawing wings. I can't believe she actually offered to help me with this one. I learned so much. I was taking inspiration from her work, I wanted to make them BIG and GLORIOUS as she does and I think I succeeded a bit at it (they're not as fluid and perfect as hers, obviously, but I think they still look nice.)

As she was explaining to me how the anatomy works and all we ended up talking about how they're like arms and the digits in bats and I decided to give Crowley that type of wings. I also discovered that Elenthya used to draw DRAGONS. DRAGONS YALL. SHE GAVE ME A DOODLE OF ONE AND IT'S SO AMAIZNG. So together with the bat wings I tried to give him some drangon-esque feel. And she also gave me the idea to make Crowley's wings more damaged, to give more weight to the drawing - Aziraphale helping him not to fall again, holding him in the descend.

Anyway. I talked too much already and no one has the patience for this lol I just like to register the process of me learning things. It's fun.

[dilys-min]

Aeipathy

Pairing: Yan!Chrollo Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Yandere, Unhealthy relationship, Obsession, etc.

Word count: 2500+ words

For many things, Chrollo has never regretted the path he had taken.

He himself, like a phantom, exists only on the verge of hushed rumors and whispers of others, if there was anyone lucky enough to be alive to tell the tale after an encounter with the Troupe. To be vulnerable means to be seen, and to be seen will allow you to be hunted. Maybe that’s why he had chosen such a befitting title for the Troupe for it is only common for a phantom to remain in the dark, committing atrocities without the knowing of others.

He had thought that the picture that he had meticulously painted since the time when his name is the only thing he owns, a picture in which he is the greatest villain, spreading terrors to those who dare to cross paths with him or the Troupe, would last until the end of time. Or so he had thought, until you came. 

 .

 .

 The weather during autumn always feels chilly in this city, not enough to be cold, but enough to leave a tingling sensation on your skin. A breeze blows past, causing the leaves from the nearby maple trees to fall and coating the road with different shades of orange and red in the process. As a child, you would excitedly scurry off to the nearest pile of maple leaves before jumping into one, claiming to be making an angel out of the leaves when your mother scolded you for dirtying your clothes. All while your father laughed at the oddly familiar scene. It is a perfect day to-

 “Excuse me, miss!”. Woken from your daydreaming, you turn around to see the owner of the voice. A charming young man dressed in a beige trench coat, coupled with a turtleneck. A distinguishing feature you notice from him is the bandana wrapping around his forehead. As you realize that you have been staring at him quite long enough to be considered rude, you try to make up a respond when he continues

“Sorry to disturb you from your thoughts. I have been trying to find a way to the gallery and it seems that I haven’t gotten any luck in that. Perhaps you could show me the way? If it isn’t such a hassle to you of course”

“N-no, not at all. It seems like we were heading to the same direction after all. I could just show you the way there, if you don’t mind”.

Luckily, the man seems to not mind as he nods and begins following you. On the way, you would make sure to occasionally turn around to check up on him (which is absolutely unnecessary since he could easily outrun you if he wanted to). When it is only a few blocks away from the exhibition, the man behind you suddenly speaks up

“No matter how much you look at it. Rembrandt’s works always a sight to behold, right?”

A warm voice erupts from behind, attempting to break the silence and likely to prompt you into a conversation. You turn around just to see him gesturing toward a page about the information on the artist of the brochure occupying your hand. Normally, your shyness would come out at the worst of times, usually stirring you away by a nod of the head or a simple reply, not to be rude in others’ eyes but enough to let them know your intention. Maybe he was trying to break the awkward atmosphere between the two of you, but somehow, there is something about him that makes thought of a short conversation doesn’t sound too bad, you even feel a bit giddy. You aren’t particularly cut out for art nor did you exceptionally good at guessing the subtle meaning behind each picture, but it does feel nice to have someone you could share your interest to, even for a short time. 

“Well, it always has been. However, I actually have a different interest in mind when I come here”

“Oh, and what is that? Do tell”. You swear if you turn your back at the right time you could see how his eyes glimmer with a hint of curiosity, how his smile seems to widen a little more.  

“To be honest, I am not an encyclopedia of arts or am I in a place to be judging others’ works. But, truthfully, I have found myself more attracted to a work of John Everett Millias- "The Blind Girl”. You say sheepishly as heat slowly rises to your cheeks.

“There is no need to be shy about that. Must I say, you have quite an exquisite taste. Usually, when it comes to arts, people tend to associate with more universal names like Rembrandt or Salvador. So, it is quite refreshing to see someone who’s also on the same page as me”. His eyes crinkles as he goes on. 

You don’t know what spurs you on at that moment, maybe it’s the calming, unjudging demeanor of the stranger before you or maybe it’s the enthusiasm when someone shares the same interest with you. Either way, you have unconsciously found yourself strolling right next to him rather than marching forward.

“Yeah! People tend to be misguided when first looking into it. The painting seems to depict a normal couple of sisters enjoying the vibrant nature around them. Rather, it’s actually an allegory of the contrast between the blinded and the sighted. You can see that the younger girl shields away from the sun while her sister relishs in it, holding herself at a complete standstill just to enjoy the beauty of what surrounds her. If you take a closer look into-”

You quickly stop when it dawns on you what you are doing.

“Ah… Sorry if that was too much; I t-tend to get carried away when it comes to things like this-”

Great! You’ve done it again, you’ve probably scared off the poor man. It’s almost like a routine for you by now. You would meet someone and; you would proceed to overshare your hyperfixation on things to the said person and then; they would be weirded out and leave. At the end, you only have yourself to blame before going on and making the same mistake all over again. You just hope that there is a hole nearby so you could jump down and possibly live there for the rest of your life, maybe change your name in the process. But, you know that’s not gonna be the case and if you’re lucky, maybe he will at least be polite enough to continue to accompa-

“Please, don’t concern yourself over trivial matters. If anything, you are undermining yourself, dear.”

The endearment just rolled off his tongue with ease, like he was addressing a friend rather than a stranger. It’s a wonder how one’s mental state could drastically change in one single moment. Suddenly, the weather feels incredibly stifling despite it being mid-autumn; Has your cheeks always been this warm?

As though bemused by your stammering, he goes on

“Even so, what further entices me is why you happen to be so fascinated by the painting. Would you view it in the same light again, knowing that might be a pure act of compassion toward the fate of the two sisters?”

A soft smile appears on your face, taking away the place where a frown once resided. Instead of being offended, you find yourself unusually relaxed around him

“Maybe I will, maybe I won't. Honestly, I don’t know either.” A breathless laugh left your mouth and at the corner of your eyes, you could see his brows are burrowed, likely confused at your answer. 

“Be it a doing of my sympathy or just a passing interest. When I look at the painting, it feels like my mind, which has always been  at an impasse, could progress toward something now.” You pause for a moment before going on

“While it is good to have common ground, but not because of which should you confine yourself to what others view. Anyways, I could never find myself getting bored of this.”

A heartfelt laugh erupts besides you, rich in the sincerity that catches you off guard. You turn your head and something ridiculous passes your mind in that moment.

 It feels as if the young man before you was a child whose smile is just as carefree as he is

The thought doesn’t stay in your mind for long as the outline of your destination begins to appear, prompting the end of your time together. This time, you don’t even bother to hide the disappointment lying behind your voice.

“ Oh… it seems like we’re here. Well, I hope that you enjoy your visit here. It was nice talking to you.”

The man extends his hand to you before speaking up

“While I am here with the intention to visit this exhibition alone, it appears that I might not completely have a grasp around here. So, would my current tour guide be interested in accompanying me for a while longer?”

There is a nagging feeling at the back of your mind. You should be more careful but you don’t care. The offer stands as tempting as that of a siren calling out for any sailors unfortunate enough to cross and for once, you want to feel what it like to have your head submerged in water, to reach out for more while you drown in the sweet voice of the monstrous being. 

You reach out, placing your hand in his. His hand is calloused, a contrast to his immaculate face. He gives your hand a few tender squeezes, your hand fits perfectly in his.

“Well, if you are willing to hear a whole ramble on paintings, then that is. But before that, can you tell me your name? It would be weird to not know your name, considering all the time we spent together.” 

The name spilled out from his name rings like a bell in your head. But whether it is for a blessing or a bad omen remains a mystery to you.

“Chrollo-”

“Chrollo Lucilfer”

.

.

Chrollo has never been one for closer connections, maybe the closest he has ever been to anyone was when he was younger, when the hopes and dreams of a better tomorrow were still beating in his chest. But even the foolest would know that innocence equals vulnerability in Meteor City, a deadly one at least. What started at a normal interaction- where you help him and he will be on his merry way- quickly spiraled into something more. Even Shizuku noticed his shift in demeanor. It’s quite reasonable when it’s not a common occurance to see the head of the infamous Phantom Troupe- a ruthless criminal who is nothing but a nightmare, the devil’s incarnate in the tales of even the cruelest criminals, to be head over heels towards a normal civilian. He has traveled far and wide and yet, he rarely lingers on for long. Nonetheless, the mere thought of someone other than him might come across you, soaking in the warmth and vibrancy you have to offer like a sponge irks him greatly. The possessive nature of a thief runs deep in his blood. A credo through which he has devotedly followed, ingrained on every single molecule that forms his very essence. If he wants something then he steals it. Anything that falls under his possessions are meant to be admired from a distance not to be leered at, and not he himself could make an exception for you. While Chrollo is no halfwitted to not realize that letting you as you be there would always be someone, far better than him, to come in and swoop you up your feet when he has to part for one of his ‘ business trip’ , he is not cruel enough to strip away your freedom, at least not for now. He would like for you to remain your individuality for a while longer and captivity could do so much to one’s mental state. While it is just an inevitable bump of your relationship, it is not one that could be easily smoothed over with kisses and comforts. 

Chrollo is not a sentimental person, but he would go as far as to say he has become quite fond of the gesture where couples would wear matching items. It gives a profound message that you are off limits, lest anyone who are dense enough, well, they could try. His gestures are subtle, but not obscure, a keen eye will be able to spot one or two, which usually under the form of the choker wrapping around your neck or the form-fitting black dress that seems to suit his taste more than yours. He wonders how much he can imprint on you, how much he can steal before you notice or would you ever be aware of his tendency at all. Give him an inch and he would take a mile, once you give your heart to him, you could never expect to receive it back without giving up a few parts of you to him. 

 Throughout his journey, Chrollo has his fair share of experiences with others, through which he has learned how to gouge out the worst in people. Humans are just a combination of different components linked together and each requiring a unique blueprint. Treading the water carefully, using the right combination of words and as though every part is laid bare before him. While Chrollo uses this ability to see the worst in order, you, on the other hand, use it to see the best, to put back the mangle parts of the said people he always inclined to break. Despite your timid nature, you seem to hold more than you view, for better or worse. In a way, he would go as far to say you and him are so alike in many ways, and yet, so acutely different at the same time.

Nostalgic is an unfamiliar term as well as a foreign experience to him. What’s there to long for when there is already nothing to begin with? And normalcy is impossible for him, with the fall of his friends, the blood on his hand; with everything that he has gone through, Chrollo knows there will never be a day when he is able to rest. Domesticity is a privilege you made possible for him with what you have got. And for that, it will be your downfall. His past experiences have taught him to cling as tightly as possible to what dear to him. So even if you end up with a few scratches and bruises, if his hand ends up bloody in the process, nothing won’t be resolved with consolations, which will serve as your comfort and your eternal sentence. 

So, even if the path he has chosen is one leading straight to hell then so be it. He will gladly drag you down with him, even if it means the gate to your eden will be shut forever.

[teeny-tiny-revenge]

It's home cinema manufacturing time! 🏴‍☠️ Gonna put my pirate show on my shelf! (I'm doing an Arts and Crafts Project and I'm making it everyone's problem.)

After seeing how much they cost, I abandoned the idea of getting a Blu-ray writer for now. For the time being, good old DVDs is what it's going to be! My TV is old and not very big, so DVD resolution is gonna be fine.

It's been ages since I last burned a DVD. For the full experience, I'm gonna create nice menus and pretty sleeves for the boxes. Graphic design is my passion! Um.

Well. First needed to find a program to do stuff with. I'm a Linux guy, so I'm using Devede. (Which is free, btw. In case someone else wants to do a low cost spot of putting pirate show on the shelf.)

DVDs fit a maximum of 120 minutes of video. So, four episodes, I thought. But after a quick attempt, the program refused to do more than three (maybe because of the menu also taking up space, and four episodes cutting pretty close to the 120 min mark?). Anyway, three episodes per disc it is. It's a pretty nice runtime for watching the entire disc, IMO. An hour and a half, and then you can return to reality to realise you should probably eat something, or go to bed because it's midnight.

OFMD with its current two seasons has a total of eighteen episodes, which is divisible by three. You get the following setup:

Disc 1: Pilot, A Damned Man, The Gentleman Pirate - That's pretty good, Stede's introduction to piracy all on one disc!

Disc 2: Discomfort in a Married State, The Best Revenge is Dressing Well, The Art of Fuckery - All bangers. Great to watch together, our boys meet and shenanigans happen!

Disc 3: This is Happening, We Gull Way Back, Act of Grace - Many romantic moments, lots of great scenes, shit hits the fan at the end there. Alright!

Disc 4: Wherever you go, there you are, Impossible Birds, Red Flags - ... Pain and angst! What have I done!?! The disc of horrors. Gotta make sure to have tissues at hand when I watch this. But hey, it also has messy bun Ed! Small mercies.

Disc 5: The Innkeeper, Fun and Games, The Curse of the Seafaring Life. - Another disc with all winners. I love all these episodes so much! (You can watch this disc to recover from the trauma of the previous one!) But seriously, this one slaps.

Disc 6: Calypso's Birthday, Man on Fire, Mermen - Great combination again. Season finale! Love and excitement!

... Honestly, except for the psychological damage of putting all the most painful episodes together, this is coming out pretty cool. Says a lot about how good the show is. I actually really love all the episodes (yes even the painful angsty episodes of massive depression). Thinking about this little project really reminded me how much I love this entire show.

So, we got a tracklist, now menus, then we can burn this stuff!

I did the menu backgrounds in GIMP. Realised I have a big folder full of screenshots I took myself, screenshots someone else took and posted on Tumblr, official promo pics for the show, and I have no idea anymore where most of them are from, because I named the files according to what's on them. Which is useful for when you want to find pics (Need a picture of cursed suit Stede? I have files named that, easy peasy!), but not so great if you wanted to give credit to whoever took a given pic you used. (It's probably @sherlockig or @ofmd-ann or @blakbonnet. Please feel credited, your beautiful screens and gifs brighten my day, and some of them are now probably part of my DVD menus. Shrunk down and cropped, but, yeah.)

I originally wanted to structure my menus as having the title of an episode, then some pics from it, then the next episode, then pics from that, and so forth, but I couldn't convince the program to give me the necessary padding between the menu items, so I ended up just putting the episode images below the menu. Still like it.

Anyway, DVD menus can also play sound! Behold a crappy video of my beautiful creation (provided entirely for sound):

It plays Gnossienne N°5!

More crappy pics of my other disc menus:

Gonna make them some nice sleeves next. Some day. Gotta make sure they all work properly first. So. I'll be on my sofa, watching my DVDs. With menus! (Edit: here are!)

[thrashkink-coven]

One aspect about being a Luciferian that I think is seldom talked about is how you will be demonized by people you know and love in real life.

The other night Lord Lucifer visited me in a dream. I was at the thrift store looking at books, as I usually do, and I saw this beautiful bright red leather bound book named “Lucifer before he rose”.

It was about his time as a God of the Underworld and the demonized adversary, about how he was hated and isolated. How the people he loved most were used against him. How he was shunned through lies and propaganda. One page that stuck with me was one with a beautiful illustration of him heartbroken at the bottom of a chasm. Beside it read:

“I am the prince that all things pay for being,

The shadow on the world, thrown by the world

Standing in its own light, which light God is.

So first, when matter I was, I was called Change,

and next, when life began, I was called Pain,

and last, when knowledge was, I was called Evil,

Nothing myself, except to give a name

To these three values, Permanence, Pleasure, Good,

The Godward side of matter, life, and knowing.”

(I know this quote comes from something I must have read recently but I can’t recall where)

and on the page adjacent it read:

“Lucifer will not know his brothers,

never will he hear the voices of his sisters,

they turn their backs towards him and behold the light of God.”

and the last thing I remember reading was something like “Lucifer before he rose, was hated.”

That dream was at the front of my mind the whole day, and it became all the more clear as to why Lucifer sent it the day went on.

I was supposed to celebrate Thanksgiving with my brothers, however, my mom will not allow my younger brother to be near me. He’s not allowed in my house because my mom doesn’t want him to be “corrupted” by me. Coming from an extremely religious household means that the majority of my family doesn’t fuck with me. They’ll do whatever they can to hurt or make things harder for me because they don’t have control over me anymore. The only thing they can do to me is take away the little that I have left. The only real hope I have at a blood familial connection is with my brothers. My older brother and I had a nice thanksgiving together, but it was just the two of us, no one else.

At this point I’m very used to not having a family. I’ve surrounded myself with people I can depend on and that I know love and respect me. It’s just on days like this when I remember that I truly am everything that they hate, that they would see me burn in hell if they could, that they want me and my friends dead, see me as a contagious disease, that I start to feel lonely.

I feel very comfortable in my craft, with how open I can be. But the reality is that I am hated, I will be for the rest of my life, even after I rise, I am destined to fall, like him. Somehow that makes me feel more safe with him, like he’s the only one who really understands.

I already made a post about this, but last night while I was ✨crying✨ by myself on the balcony, I felt his presence engulfing me like a hug. and I was listening to “I won’t hurt you” by The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. It felt like he was talking directly to me.

“My pale blue star

My rainbow, how good it is

To know you're like me

Strike me with your lightning

Bring me down and bury me with ashes

I won't hurt you. I won't hurt you. I won't hurt you. I won't hurt you.”

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Just A Little Bite (Vampire!Nanami x Black!Bimbo!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Something strange is going on with Nanami. He doesn’t know what it is and neither do you. All you know is that he’s been extremely…possessive lately. And tonight at a friend’s costume party, when he sees you dressed in your sexy little outfit that garners unwanted attention from other men, Nanami’s “instincts” kick in and he drags you off to show you and everybody else that you’re his and his only. But does this strange yet sexy behavior come from you or is it just a full moon?

Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GTFO), Monster!Nanami, Bimbo!Reader, Black-Coded!Reader, Semi-Public Sex, Jealous!Nanami, Marking, Biting, Blood Play, Hypnosis, Dubcon/R*pe, Doggystyle, Mirror Sex, Mating Press, Unprotected Creampie, Mutual O, Choking, Aftercare, Dom!Nanami + sub!Reader, Established Relationship/Dating, Couples’ Costume, Monsterf*cking

Writer’s Note: Vampire!Nanami is a concept that was just TOO HOT not to write about. Idk about y’all, but I’d let Nanami suck on my neck and my p— *TV FUZZ SOUNDS* any day 🤭 I based this one shot around the sexy fan art by @aliasnnmknt on their Twitter. PLEASE check out their work & enjoy! -Jazz

**********

Nanami watches you like a predator would watch his prey: ravenously, possessively, and almost menacingly.

He stands off to the side nursing his lukewarm beer that he grips so tightly in his fist that he nearly breaks the glass bottle in half. He briefly pictures the bottle being Gojo’s neck instead that he wrings and snaps in half.

He blinks away the murder scene from his thoughts, criticizing himself for such murderous thoughts. He has never thought this way about anyone before…until you. As he watches Gojo hang around you like a bee hovering around honey, he can’t think about anything except how close the guy is to you—his girl.

He can’t exactly blame him though. You look absolutely to die and kill for in your little vampire costume for Gojo’s Halloween party. You put a sexy little spin on it with the mini skirt you paired with the lace black corset that pushes up your juicy breasts for all to behold. Your face brightens as you smile, the fake fangs in your mouth giving you such an adorable look that Nanami can’t stand it. Despite the thigh high, high heeled boots you wear, Gojo still towers over you. Like Nanami, he has a thing for pretty things too. Why must you be so goddamn pretty? So cute?

And it isn’t just your looks. Your bubbly, sweet personality makes you even more addictive. You’re so nice to everyone, even those who Nanami believes may not deserve it. But that’s what he adores about you. He’s fucking obsessed with you. ….Obsessed enough to wear a couple’s vampire costume with you and attend a Halloween party that he really didn’t want to go to.

“Wow, Y/N!” Gojo coos, his voice carrying over the music pulsing throughout the house. “You look so cute tonight! That blood is drippin’ like crazy though.” He uses one of his fake knife fingers to poke you and leans in closer to inspect the fake blood dripping down your plump lips to your chin to your neck right down to those luscious, full, pretty, soft, juicy, suckable ti—

“Thanks, Satoru!” You giggle, patting the taller man on the shoulder. He grins down at you, his Freddy Krueger hat tipped up to show off his handsome face. “Don’t worry, the blood is edible and washes right off. Nanami is dressed as a vampire too! Did you see him?”

Gojo’s smile turns into a smirk that boils Nanami’s blood. “I sure did,” he chuckles. “The guy has been hidin’ in the shadows all night. He’s livin’ up to the role.” He nods over to where Nanami is, a glint in his blue eyes.

You turn around in your vampire cape and give him an adorable waggle of your red, manicured fingers. Gojo waves too, mockingly so, while he plays with the ties of your cape at the nape of your throat. He’s too close. He’s too fucking close.

‘Asshole,’ Nanami thinks, chugging back some beer as if to ease his increasing anger. ‘He’d better get back now or I’ll—‘

“Here’s another drink for the lady,” Ino announces, passing you a red solo cup topped with a concoction of vodka and fruit juice. You love anything sweet and fruity. “Saw that your cup was empty and wanted to oblige.” He flirtatiously grins at you, appearing like the demon he’s dressed as tonight. Of course he put the fake horns over that damn beanie.

You gasp, putting a hand dramatically to your heart at the gesture. “Oh, thank you, Ino! Isn’t that so sweet?” You give him a hug to which he returns, giving Gojo a shit-eating grin. Under the blinking orange and red lights above, Nanami can see Gojo’s eye twitch in irritation. He has no right to be irritated. You’re Nanami’s girl. His baby. Why are all of these men so hell bent on trying his patience?

And why did you have to wear such a delectable outfit with your tits and thighs out? Nanami never was the type of man to tell his partner what to wear. He’s not that possessive. But damn, does it grind his gears to see other men ogle at what is his like ravenous dogs.

What does he have to do? Tear your clothes off, bend you over, and fuck you until he makes you cum to make them see that you’re his?

He blinks, shocked by the sudden dirty thought. Nanami is sexual, yes, but these deviant thoughts have never crossed his mind with you. Despite how small and cute and sweet you are, all he has ever wanted to do is make you feel good and attend to your body. He wants to give you pleasure. Give you what you want and need. He is completely at your service.

But the idea of littering your soft skin in teeth marks, making those pretty brown eyes roll back as he fucks you dumb, and filling you up with his cum makes his cock harder than he’d like to admit. He has to cover his bulge with his cape to avoid anyone seeing his obvious hard-on.

Now more have started to surround you until you’re like a movie star getting swarmed by her adoring fans. “Wow, Y/N, those nails are so long!” Yuji gasps, dressed as Chucky the Doll tonight. “Jeez, did you grow ‘em yourself?”

Megumi, dressed as absolutely nothing but a ‘This Is My Costume’ shirt and jeans, rolls his eyes. “Stupid,” he mutters. “Obviously, they’re fake.” You giggle as Yuji peers down at your long, red nails, even playing with them. Nanami has never wanted to kill a child before, but if Yuji doesn’t get his hands off of you, there’s going to be a big problem.

Geto suddenly appears like a phantom appearing out of thin air, just as tall as Gojo and dressed in a Ghostface costume. “Careful, or she may just scratch you with ‘em,” he sniggers, giving you a flirty look. “Not that I’d mind that.” Gojo chuckles, tossing an arm around Geto’s shoulders. “Me either. Call us pain sluts.”

Oh, they’re sluts indeed. Nanami knows all about how this whorish couple scoops up pretty little things like you and shares them in the bedroom. You could never want that…not with them. If you’re going to have a threesome with anyone, he’ll clone himself for that.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” you giggle, patting Geto on the chest. “You guys are too sweet to me! I’d only scratch up the bad guys and spooky monsters.” You make a show of cutely scratching at the air, your perfect lips wrapping around the rim of your cup.

“Weeeell, I think demons count for both,” Ino chuckles. “Better luck next time, fellas.” He gives a wink to the couple as he tries to sneakily wrap an arm around around your shoulders, but Gojo stops him by physically cutting between him and you. “Ya might wanna tell yourself that,” he says, peering at Ino over his sunglasses. Maybe you’ll have some game next time.”

Ino’s smirk grows cockier, but before this can go South, a song that excites Yuji begins to play. “Y/N, you’ve gotta come dance to this!” He says, grabbing you by the hand. “You like Megan Thee Stallion too! I remember! Megumi’s gonna dance too!” You giggle at Megumi who blushes, elbowing Yuji in the side.

“No thanks, kids,” Gojo tuts, shooing the younger men away. “Besides, Y/N doesn’t wanna dance with two ametures.” He smiles down at you, but it isn’t friendly. Nanami can see the undercurrent of lust in it.

“Geto and I know a thing or two about sharin’ a partner,” he says in a sultry tone. “Can you handle two at the same time on the floor, cutie?” He and Geto surround you like two hawks, waiting for you to let your guard down. Nanami just about loses it. He is seeing red.

But you—sweet, oblivious you—don’t see the ulterior motives in the couple’s offer. “Oh, but Nanami might wanna dance too,” you add. “He’s right over there!” You point to where he stands on the wall, giving him a pretty smile that floods his stomach with butterflies. After taking one final swig of beer for liquid courage, Nanami places the bottle down on a nearby table and strides up to meet you on the dance floor. The throng of people part for him, not wanting to get in the way of this tall, big man with forearms and thighs that could crush heads.

Gojo and Geto couldn’t look less intimidated by the blonde in his vampire costume, same as his girlfriend. “Ohhh, so he’s finally blessed us with his presence,” Gojo teases. Nanami ignores him, but gives both him and his boyfriend a glare as he takes your hand in his.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, hit by a whiff of your sugary perfume. What is that? Vanilla with a hint of caramel? Whatever it was, it was making him hard as a rock. “I need to talk to you,” he murmurs.

You nod and wave goodbye at Geto and Gojo as Nanami drags you off of the dance floor. He leads you over to the wall where he was before. When you look up at him, all smiles and twinkly brown eyes, he nearly goes feral and fucks you right there. What the hell is going on with him? He presses a hand to his head that has begun to pound like the bass of the music playing overhead.

“Hey, Kenny, baby,” you giggle. “The guys want me to dance with them. They’re playing ‘Thriller’!” Your smile suddenly fades, replaced with a frown as your expression turns to one of concern. “Hey…Kenny, what’s wrong? Is it your head?”

“Uh…” Nanami winces, the throbbing in his brain growing. He also feels extremely hot, like the party is too much and too stuffy all of the sudden. “I-I’m sorry, doll, but I think we should leave. My head is hurting.”

Your cute face etches with concern, your eyebrows drawn together. “Oh, you poor thing,” you coo, gently stroking his back. “Is it the beer? Did you have any water? Maybe you need some food! Here, I’ll go get you an eyeball cake pop!” You turn to head to the snack table, but he abruptly stops you by placing a hand on your arm.

“No, no,” he abruptly says. “Just….stay here. With me.” He pulls you toward him, smushing you against his body. He sighs breathing in your sweet, intoxicating perfume and fruity shampoo. He already feels better feeling you in his arms, blocked from the prying eyes of the men lurking in the shadows.

He feels your soft, small hands on him, feeling him up. Feeling your hands on him only makes his cock harder, pushing against the fabric of his slacks. “Kento,” you whisper, pulling away to gape at him. “Baby, you’re burning up! Are you sure you’re okay?”

He falls into the brown sugar depths of your eyes, pulled in by how pretty and worried they look. He doesn’t know how to answer you without possibly giving away his secret. Without admitting that he’s been lying to you about what he truly is. “I…I don’t—“

“Y/N!” A familiar voice suddenly shouts. Your turn, grinning at Habibara walking into the scene wearing a Woody costume, boots and all. Behind him is Higuruma in a simple suit splattered with blood which could either be a ‘Pulp Fiction’ or ‘American Psycho’ reference. Haibara’s eyes become comically wide at the sight of you. “Damn, girl, aren’t you the cutest vampire ever! Look at you! You look amazing!” He wraps his arms around you and picks you up, spinning you around and around. Nanami seethes at the sight of it.

When his friend puts you down, you look joyful and absolutely radiant. “Thanks, Haibara,” you giggle. “Oh, you brought Higuruma out! You two look amazing!” The lawyer sighs, looking like he wants to be somewhere other than here. “I don’t know why I’m here,” he sighs. “I’d much rather be at home.” Nanami silently agrees,

Haibara laughs, wrapping an arm around the lawyer's neck. “Well, maybe a look at this darlin’ will change that attitude,” he chuckles. “Just look at her! Ain’t Nanami’s girl so pretty?” He grins at you while Higuruma takes one look at you and blushes. He fucking blushes! Nanami has never seen this man even crack a smile.

You’re just too powerful with your bimbo self. Your sweetness and cuteness are forces that cannot be fought with or against. You can make even the most uptight of men blush and fall to their knees just as Nanami almost did the first time he met you.

While any other man may be fine and even happy with the fact that other men desire their women, Nanami is different.

Very different. Just the idea of any man looking at you is enough to make him snap. Despite half of the men at this party being his friends, colleagues, or mentees, he sees them as enemies tonight. He wants nothing more than to steal you away, lock you up, and never let you out again.

But maybe he doesn’t have to do that.

Maybe all he has to do is rip your corset open to reveal those gorgeous tits and pretty, brown nipples and mark them up with red and purple hickeys to show everyone that you’re his.

Maybe he can just bend you over the nearest piece of furniture, lift up that tiny skirt, and spank that ass of yours until he sees handprints.

Maybe he can even flash these horn dogs that dripping pussy of yours, stuff his fingers inside and make you cum the only way he knows how.

Maybe he can simply sit you down with him and bounce you on his cock for everyone to witness, stare into the eyes of every man who has ogled you tonight and think, ‘Yeah, look at this shit. This is mine. Only I can fuck her like this.’

He can dig his nails into the soft flesh of your ass. Wrap a hand around your throat. Shove his tongue down your throat. All while your velvety walls squeeze around him as you finally hit your climax and you milk him so much that he busts a fat load in your—

“Nanami?” Your soft voice is laced with worry. He blinks, finding you, Haibara, and Higuruma staring at him. “Are you okay, baby?” You ask, concerned. “Your eyes look kinda…weird.”

“Yeah, man,” Haibara adds, squinting curiously at his friend. “They look all red. I didn’t know you smoked!”

Red? Immediately, Nanami’s nerves become frazzled when everything starts to make sense. The murderous thoughts. His headache. And now, his aching teeth. He turns to the window and sure enough, there is a big, fat, white full moon glowing in the sky. ‘Oh, no,’ he thinks. No, not now! How could he forget tonight is a full moon?! He thought he was more careful. More prepared.

Immediately, he takes your hand and snatches you away without another word. “Let’s go,” he growls. You gasp, following after him on quick feet. “Where are we going?!” You yell over the music. He turns to you, doing his best to keep his hormones in check. “Somewhere more private. Upstairs.”

He zooms up the steps with you, nearly knocking over other partiers in the process. “Don’t fuck up my sheets!” Gojo yells after you and Nanami. “I’ve got condoms in my nightstand if you need ‘em, Nanami!”

Nanami ignores the childish cheering as he ascends up the steps with you in tow. He finds an empty bedroom and yanks you inside, shutting the door behind you. The room is spacious and clean with a king-sized bed, a window overlooking the moon, and a mirror hanging above the bed on the ceiling. ‘Fuckin’ freaks,’ Nanami thinks. He knows that this is Gojo and Geto’s bedroom.

“Kento!” You gasp, panting from the speed walk up here. “What’s going on? We’re gonna miss the party!” Nanami turns to you, putting his big hands on your shoulders. He winches, feeling his nails aching to stretch into sharp claws. “We need to leave, Y/N,” he growls out. “Right now.”

‘Or something really bad is about to happen,’ he thinks.

You blink those pretty, long lashes at him, perplexed. “But they didn’t even cut the pumpkin cake,” you pout. “Don’t you want some cake, Nanami?” God, does he. Nanami has never wanted to fuck you more than now. He lowers his head to stare at the floor, unable to take your cuteness. “God, you’re so fuckin’ cute,” he huffs. “Why the hell must you be so fuckin’ cute?”

You stand there, still as a statue, confused at what’s happening to your boyfriend. He doesn’t blame you. He has never behaved in such a manner before…or not in front of you, at least. He knows he can’t keep this from you.

“I must confess, darling,” he sighs, gripping your hands in his. “I don’t like the way those guys look at you. Gojo, Habibara, all of them. I don’t even know why you had to wear…that.” His eyes glaze over your sexy costume, his cock growing harder.

Your eyes grow big and soft, disappointment in them. “You don’t like my costume?” You softly ask. Immediately, he feels guilt pang in his chest. “No, no, I love it, baby. That’s the problem—others love it too. And some of those guys down there aren’t as nice as others.”

‘Like me. They won’t treat you like I will—like a fucking princess.’

You tilt your head to the side like a puppy. “What do you mean?” You ask. The ache in his teeth has grown increasingly and he winces in pain. You notice and go to touch him, but he stops you by kissing your hand. “Some of those men wanna fuck you,” he hisses, and your eyes widen at the dirty word falling from his lips. “They wanna take you from me when you’re my girl. My baby. You’re mine.”

Your pretty face becomes etched in worry and slight fear. This isn’t your boyfriend. Your sweet, respectful Nanami. This is…someone else. “N-Nanami?” You stammer.

He releases your hands and places his own on your hips. You watch in awe as he sinks to his knees as if in complete and total anguish…and he is. Your beauty is almost painful as it is to hold back the power of the full moon. ”You’re all mine,” he repeats. “And I need to show everyone that. I need to make sure they know that you’re taken.”

He looks up into your eyes and finds nothing but fear in them. “Nanami!” You gasp, pressing yourself against the door. “Your teeth!”

Nanami slides his tongue along his upper row of teeth where, sure enough, he feels two sharpened points. “Shit,” he sighs. “I’m sorry, baby. It wasn’t my intention to tell you like this.” You’re still pressed against the wall, looking like a terrified bunny. He feels his heart shatter at the sight. “Tell me what?” You whimper. “Kento, you’re scaring me.”

Nanami continues to sit on his knees, keeping a distance from you to not alarm you any further. “Don’t be scared, baby,” he coos, holding your fearful eyes with his. “I’ll never ever hurt you, but there is something about me that I haven’t told you.”

The moonlight shines brighter into the room, illuminating your brown skin and glassy eyes. “What is it?” You whisper, but he knows you know the answer. When the moonlight hits him, he feels its warmth and its power as he is washed in its silvery light. His headache dissolves as his fangs and claws grow and his eyes grow a crimson red like the purest blood. “This,” he softly growls. “This is what I am. I can’t help it, baby. It’s a full moon unfortunately.”

He watches as your eyes grow wide as saucers and your plump, glossy lips form an O. “O-Oh, my God,” you gasp. “Y-You’re a…a…” You don’t finish, but he already knows what you’re about to say. A vampire.

You must’ve had a hunch something was different about your boyfriend, didn’t you? How he barely comes out in the daytime unless to see you. The fact that he keeps his curtains drawn, telling you before that sunlight weakens his eyesight. The fact that he eats his steaks very rare.

The signs have been there all along and he’s sure you’re realizing it now. He stands and grasps your arms, desperation taking over. “I won’t hurt you, but I need to show you that you’re mine,” he says, a rasp of need in his voice. “I must claim you.”

He feels your body relax under his touch which gives him the green light to kiss you. He slowly leans in, giving you the chance to pull away or tell him to stop…but you don’t. Instead, you tilt your chin up to meet his lips in a hot, slow, passionate kiss that sweeps you off of your feet and draws the softest moans out of you.

Nanami immediately grows feral at the sound, feel, and smell of you. You’re so sweet. So soft. So small. So adorable. And so completely his. He presses himself against you, giving you a feel of his hard-on as his tongue swirls with yours in a wet dance. When he pulls away, you gasp as he begins to pepper your neck in open-mouthed kisses. “N-Nanami,” you whimper, gripping his shoulders. “The party—“

“Fuck the party,” he growls, licking at your throat. “All that matters right now is you and me.” He focuses on that spot behind your ear that you like, relishing the squeaky moan you let out and how you press your tits into his groping hands. “Invite me in, darling,” he pleads. “Tell me you want me to.”

His cock presses against his slacks, urging him to rip them off and stuff you full now. Luckily, you’re on the same time and wrap your leg around his waist to bring him closer. “Nanami,” you moan. “Oh, Nanami, yes!”

Nanami wedges his knee between your thighs where he urges you to grind your cunt against his thigh. “Tell me you want me,” he repeats. “Let me in, baby.” His cock aches intensely, but he ignores it. He can’t do this without your permission. He won’t–

“Yes!” You whine, gripping him for dear life. “Yes, Ken, take me! I want this so badly!” Nanami doesn’t even have to read your mind to know that you mean it. He can hear the desperation in your voice.

Minutes later, while the party rages on downstairs, Nanami fulfills both of your needs when has you bent over the side of Gojo and Geto’s bed and his big, thick, long cock filling up every inch of your wet pussy over and over again. Your gorgeous tits sway out of your corset and your beautiful ass bounces off of his pelvis the more he fucks you, his hands gripping each asscheek where his sharp nails nearly dig into your skin. Your mini skirt, panties, and boots forgotten on the floor along with his clothes, leaving you only in your corset.

Meanwhile, Nanami is completely naked, his chest and neck coated in your lipstick stains and his cock hard inside of you from your constant and heavenly sucking and gagging on it earlier. He only grows harder and more feral at the sweet sound of your sugary, high-pitched moans as he fucks you at a pace he never has before.

With the moon high in the sky, Nanami’s powers are at their peak. He now has superspeed which allows him to fuck you at damn near the speed of light, causing the bed to scoot across the floor and the sound of skin slapping against skin to drift in the air.

He leans down to nibble at your ear with his fangs, fanning your face in mint-scented breath. “How’s this, my love?” He growls into your ear. “Is this good enough for my baby, hm?” He moves his hands to cup your tits, keeping them safe in his big palms. You’re losing your ever-loving mind at this point. His dick is too good. His stroke game is immaculate. All of your senses are heightened with him, as his are with you. You love sex with a vampire! “F-Fuck, Nanami, yes!” You moan. “You feel s-so good! Keep going! Don’t stop!”

He presses his nose into your hair, breathing in coconut and mango. “Never,” he groans. “But you need to keep makin’ those noises for me, okay, my love? Give me that voice.”

He slows down and begins to give you slow, deep strokes that rock you to your core. “B-But…oh, shit!…but they’ll hear us!” You whine. “Oh, fuck yes!” Poor baby. You can’t even get the rest of your sentence out because you’re getting fucked too god.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he growls. “Those guys can listen and jerk off for all I care. I want ‘em all to hear you gettin’ dicked down just like you should.” He’ll show all of those guys who had their eyes on you…even the ones who didn’t. He pictures them all standing around watching him now, cocks hard at the sight of you getting pounded by him. ‘This is how you fuck a woman,’ he’d tell them. ‘This is how you take what’s yours.’

Power fills his veins like heroin and he straightens up to grip your ass. “Tell me how you want it, baby,” he whispers. “You want it like this?” He pumps his hips a little faster, making your ass bounce and your moans grow loud. “Nanami,” you whimper. “T-Too…ah! Too m-much! I-I can’t…can’t!”

He chortles at how adorable you are, stroking your back with his hand. “Can’t what, darling?” He chuckles. “You can’t take all of that cock?” You nod faster than a bobblehead even as his cock keeps filling you again and again. He tuts. “Oh, but you’re wrong. You’re doin’ it so well right now. Actually…”

Slowly, he pulls his cock, slick with your juices, out of you and slaps it against your clit a few times before giving your ass a smack. “On your back, you little vixen.” Your giggles are aphrodisiacs to him as you do as you’re told. “Yes, sir,” you giggle.

You get on your back on the bed and he settles between your thigh, snatching you closer by your ankles. He can tell you’re turned on by his show of strength which isn’t just caused by his vampire powers. He stares deep into your eyes, crimson staring into brown. “I want you to watch yourself take my cock,” he demands. “Think you can do that for me, pretty girl?”

Frantically, you nod, needing more of him. You open your mouth to verbalize that need, but your words turn into a moan as his cock sinks back inside of you. Hiking your knees over his shoulder, he begins to pump his hips forward and back at a fast pace that makes you see the entire fucking galaxy as your fingers play with your clit in an effort to heighten your pleasure.

“Look up,” he demands. You do and grow entranced by the sight of you taking his cock, your legs and pussy spread open by him. But all you see is yourself spread out like a dessert plate reflected in the mirror above. Nanami is nowhere to be found in the mirror. Vampires have no reflection. You’ve never been more turned on in your life seeing your pretty self get fucked like this.

The bedsprings creak and your moans mingle with each other, creating a symphony of sex in the air as the music from the party drifts up from downstairs. Watching your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth fall open on each gasp, whine, and pretty moan is a sight to behold. “Oh, my God, fuck!” You babble. “Yes, Kento, yes! I-I’m so close! I’m gonna—“

Knock, knock.

“Uh…Nanami?” Ino asks.

Your eyes pop open like a cartoon’s and you terrifyingly stare up at Nanami. “Goddammit,” he growls, slowing down to a slower tempo. He presses a finger to his lips to silence you and clears his throat. “What is it?” He barks, unable to hide his irritation. “I’m kinda busy at the moment.”

Ino’s laughter is unmistakable even behind the door. “Oh, we know,” he chuckles. “I’m damn near jealous! Gojo just wanted me to tell you that we’re cuttin’ the cake if you and your girl wants some.”

Your ushy, gushy, velvety pussy clenches around Nanami, milking the cum out of him. “Just wrap it up,” he says, biting back a groan. “I need to finish this first.” He wraps a hand around your throat because he knows that gets you closer, squeezing his fingers around your pretty neck. “Don’t let me stop you,” Ino snorts. “I’ll save you some…oh, and make sure she’s extra loud. Might as well hear her cum.”

Nanami smirks, surprisingly liking that naughty idea. “Will do,” he grunts and proceeds to pound you into the mattress until you’re seeing stars again. Your moans are loud, much to Ino’s liking, as you get closer and closer to your end. Nanami is there too. “Darling,” he rasps, “I’m close. I’m gonna have to bite you soon.”

He can feel his jaw aching, his fangs growing sharper in anticipation of your sweet blood. Your brown eyes grow round with worry. “W-Will it hurt?” You whimper. You look oh-so scared that he nearly melts. “Just a pinch, but I’ll only do it when you finally climax. It’ll make your orgasm more intense…put you in a euphoric state.”

He knows from his own experiences of one-night stands when he was at his most desperate and starved for blood. He is dying to see you in the same dazed, sexy, euphoric state that his one nights were in once they came as he sunk his teeth into their necks. “Is that okay?” He asks, concerned with your comfortability. “I could always just—“

“No!” You cry out, your glossy lips wobbling and your eyes filling with tears from the intense pleasure. “It’s okay, Nanami. I trust you.” Your eyes grow hooded and lustful as you lean your head back on the pillow, exposing your neck and smooth skin to him. “Bite me, sir. I’m all yours.”

Nanami nearly bursts right there. “Oh, baby,” he groans. “You’re gonna make me cum.” He ruts into harder, faster, urging your hand to rub yourself in time with his thrusts. “Cum for me,” you beg through pants. “Please cum with me, Kenny! I’m so close!”

He leans down to tongue-kiss you, swapping saliva and moans as he fucks you over and over and over again. He then pulls away to stare down at you, falling deep into the chocolate pools of your eyes. “Look into my eyes, baby,” he whispers. “Cum with me.”

He knows that the hypnosis has kicked in when your expression softens and your eyes grow glazed as you stare up at him. It only takes a few more thrusts for you to finally reach your peak. With a high-pitched moan, you finally gush all around Nanami’s cock, your walls clenching around him tighter than a vice.

As you cum, Nanami swoops down to tongue down once he feels himself cumming too. He vigorously thrusts into you, chasing his high until he lets out a groan as he shoots his load inside of you, filling you up to the brim with his warm cum. You gasp into the sloppy kiss, filling absolutely full.

Nanami feels himself losing control, all grips on his humanity leaving him. “Give me your neck,” he growls, his voice dipping so low that he barely sounds like himself. Without a confirmation or the green light, he swoops down to sink his teeth into your soft, brown flesh.

A weak moan leaves your lips as you flinch from the pain, but then your body begins to writhe in pleasure as his bite takes you to a pleasurable, almost euphoric place. You arch your back and press yourself into him, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer.

Nanami sucks your blood like a parched man in the desert, your sweet blood coating his teeth, tongue and lips. He can feel your energy and life force enter him, making him feel like he can touch the fucking moon. He grows addicted with each slurp, your blood drugging him. “K-Kento!” you gasp. “O-Oh!”

He is aware that he’s been sucking for too long and you start to feel uncomfortable. “Just a little more,” he grunts. “Just a little bit more, baby.” His tongue bathes the bite marks in saliva that numbs the sting and makes your pulse stop jumping.

Once he finally finishes, he pulls away and licks the rest of your blood off of his lips. You lay beneath him, panting and dazed. “You okay?” He worriedly asks. “Was it too much?”

you shake your head, still looking as if you just did too many drugs and you’re crashing. “No, m’just…dizzy,” you mutter.

Quickly, Nanami springs into action. He tells you to lay there before jumping off of the bed and racing to the bathroom…butt naked. He doesn’t give a fuck if anyone sees him. His priority is YOU.

Luckily, no one does and he returns with aftercare essentials: a glass of water, a towel soaked in warm water, and body oil. He doesn’t want to know why Gojo and Geto have that. When he returns, he finds you halfway asleep and nearly laughs. ‘Poor baby,’ he thinks. He tuckered you out.

“Drink slow,” Nanami says, pressing the glass to your lips. You lean up and slowly sip the water, humming in appreciation. Once you’ve had enough, he sets the drink side and wipes you down before rubbing some oil between his palms.

He then proceeds to massage your body, paying close attention to your hips and legs. You melt beneath his calloused hands, your smile lopsided and lazy. Once he finishes with that, he lays next to you and scoops you into him, making you the little spoon. “That’s it, darling, just relax. You did so, so well for me.” He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, gently stroking your back.

“Good,” you happily sigh. “I’m happy.” You pop your head up to look up at him, smiling. “Now let’s snuggle before we go get that cake!”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. How could he be blessed with such a wonderful gift such as you? “Thank you for accepting me, darling,” he whispers. “I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.”

He nuzzles into your sweet-smelling hair, making you giggle. “And I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend,” you happily sigh, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re so sweet and sexy and—wait, is this gonna turn me into a vampire too?!”

You sit up straight and look at him wide-eyed, terror in your eyes. He nearly laughs. You’re like a little cartoon character. “No, darling,” he chuckles, easing your fear. “All I did was suck your blood. I’d never turn you without your permission.” Though the idea of spending eternity as vampires with you doesn’t sound too bad.

“Oh…well, that’s a relief!” You sigh, lying back down with him and proceeding to snuggle him in Gojo and Geto’s bed. “Though I would make a cute little vampire, wouldn’t I?”

“Yes,” he laughs. “Yes, you would. But you’d be cute in any form, my darling.”

THE END.

[detectivestucks]

The Bet

18+ Content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Tobi x F!Reader

Summery: You are relatively new to the Akatsuki and your best friends Konan makes a wager with you. When you lose, you're forced to take Tobi on a date.

Warnings: NSFW, canon violence, mentions of biting, fingering, oral-male receiving, unprotected penetration, facial.

Word Count: 4.8k

Anon Ask via DM: Been getting a lot of Kakashi request so I was happy to write for Obito again :)

Tobi always had eyes for you. 

Nothing happens in the Akatsuki without his approval but when Konan asked Pain to let you join their troop of miscreants, Tobi overwhelmingly approved of Pain’s decision. You were skilled, vicious, and adorable. You captured the attention of every man you came across. Even when fighting enemies your beauty captivated them. They shamelessly flirted with you as you battle to the death.

“Come on gorgeous, why don’t you drop the katana and I‘ll take you on a nice date?”

“Wow, strong and beautiful. Maybe after this I can take you to dinner.”

“Keep trying to kill me and I might just ask you to marry me.”

The pick up lines were pathetic and met with a resounding rejection that was usually followed by ending their lives. 

Yes, Tobi had eyes for you alright. He felt a twinge of envy for anyone who joined you on missions because you were a brilliant sight to behold when you hunted your target down. You weren't a victim to the harsh realities of the shinobi world. You were the harsh reality of the shinobi world. 

Always hanging around with Konan, the two of you whisper to each other whenever you’re at the hideout between missions. The other members always came over to talk to you, trying to impress you with boyish charm and corny pick up lines. They would leave you in a fit of giggles and whispers while Tobi watched from a distance. He wanted you as much as the other guys but he had a double life to worry about. He’d leave the rest of the crew to hopelessly fawn over you and your seemingly high standards. 

One afternoon the two of you are chatting away in the corner of the main room laughing at Deidara and Hidan who are putting on an impressive display for you both when Tobi walks through. He runs up to his partner and clings onto him for dear life, pretending to be a damsel in distress

“Oh Deidara! There was a mean man outside! Make him go away with your very impressive art.”

He tilts his head to the side and you just know he’s batting his lashes below his mask. You and Konan crack up at his ridiculous mini play. You enjoyed Tobi. He was funny and pissed Deidara off constantly. He was the much needed comic relief amongst a bunch of moody, brooding, arrogant rogue shinobi. However out of all the guys in the gang he was the only one you weren’t interested in. Even Zetzu had a better chance ending up between your legs than the orange masked idiot.

Konan sees you laugh a little too hard at Tobi and nuzzles her lips against your ear,

“What do you think Tobi’s like on a date?”

“Oh gods I hope I never have to find out. He’d probably cling to his girlfriend the way he hangs on Deidara.”

You both snicker at that, certain it’s true.

“Care to make a wager then?”

Konan piques your interest and you lift a brow at her.

“Next mission, the woman with the least kills asks Tobi on a date.”

You turn to her with your mouth open. “Konan! You seriously are willing to keep living here if you lose?”

“Oh I’m not losing.” she says, crossing her arms.

“Well I’m sure as hell not losing either.”

The both of you continue to stare at your animated comrades when you speak again.

“What does the winner get?”

Konan snorts “Not going on a date with Tobi.” 

“Besides that!”

“I don’t know.: She thinks for a quick second. “They have to invite their crush into their bedroom.”

Your eyes dart around the room, not sure who to choose. There were a lot of guys in your gang that you wanted to sleep with. Pain was off limits cause of Konan but Kisame was ripped and had that sexy predator thing going for him. You bet he bites and when he does, it breaks the skin. Then he probably soothes your wounds by licking up the blood while he fucks you stupid on his cock. 

Your eyes pan over to pretty boy Deidara who was gorgeous with hair you wanted to pull while his mouth lapped between your legs. You thought about all the sinful things the mouths on his hands would do to you and it makes you cross your legs.

You look at Hidan who was crazy hot and twisted. You could see him getting freaky during your period and you wanted to surrender to the ‘way of jashin’ for just one night, letting him do whatever he wanted to your naked body. 

Lastly you peer over at the quiet Itachi. Reserved, kept to himself, and well mannered. The kind of guy you could bring home to your mama but was probably a filthy boy in bed. You imagine him slapping you and calling you degrading names while his eyes glow red.

“Can’t decide, huh?” Konan says with a light jab. 

“Well not all of us joined the Akatsuki with our childhood crush.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to choose. Cause you’re gonna lose.”

You open your mouth and look at her pretending to be gobsmacked. “Oh it’s on!”

****************************************************

Konan picked a good time to wager her little bet cause your next mission was a full fledged raid. One thing you envied about Konan was her ability to make shuriken out of paper, leaving her with an endless supply of weapons while utilizing minimal physical effort. You on the other hand had incredible speed but only two kunai and a katana at your disposal. No one could match your lightning speed, not even the raikage himself. But you could still only attack up to two targets at a time. 

The night was long and the body count was high.

…and Konan was kicking your ass. 

You were desperately trying to take out more targets than her but her range was so much farther than yours. You were needlessly brutal, terrified of the horrible date night that was to come at the end of the mission. The first rays of light shone over the rooftops when the two of you finally made your retreat. 

“Your count?”

“78” you pant

“Ha! I win! 102”

“Shut up!”

She only smiles back at you.

“Fuck! Now I have to ask out Tobi.”

“Sucks to suck”

“Oh gods, what if he wants me to suck his dick?!”

“You better open wide.”

You shove her off the tree she jumped on but she caught herself by creating paper wings and flew the rest of the way home. Smug bitch.

You meet up just outside of the hideout, entering together. As soon as you walk through the threshold Konan begins to shout. 

“Tobi! Y/N needs you!”

“I hate you so much right now.” You grumble under your breath.

She sticks her tongue out at you, “Deal with it. I’m gonna go find Pain.”

She leaves in a twirl just as Tobi timidly enters the room. 

“You needed me, Y/N?”

“Yes…I have something to ask you.”

Tobi just stands there, staring at you behind his mask, head eerily tilted to the side. Gods he’s so creepy. You begin to wring your hands in front of your stomach, building the courage to ask the dreaded question.

“Tobi…would you…” you bite your lower lip in the most adorable way and Tobi can feel his heart twist in his chest. “Would you go on a date with me?”

“Oh.”

You stare at him, unsure of what to make of his response. Maybe he was going to reject you. Maybe you won’t have to go on a date at all. Thank the heavens.

“What do you have in mind?”

“I-uh…” Fuck! Now I have to plan the date too?! Konan I’m gonna kill you. “I hadn’t decided yet.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you.

“Do you want to go or not? Cause I can go ask one of the others if you’re not interested.”

Tobi scratches the back of his neck and responds in his childish tone.

“Geh, Y/N, I’d be happy to go on a date with you.” He brings his hands together in front of him and tilts his head to the side in a feminine display, “I just wasn’t expecting it is all.”

It took everything in you not to cringe so instead you force a laugh. Maybe he was just trying to be funny. Yeah, that’s it, he was trying to be funny. 

That night you get dressed in a long flowy pale pink skirt with slits along each thigh and a fitted cream colored top with corset detailing around the bust. You hoped one of the other guys saw you in it and would knock on your door later to show you how a real man treats a woman. For now, though, you needed to focus on making it through your date with Tobi.

He knocks on your bedroom door and you walk over to answer it. Tobi stands before you in a fitted black shirt and black pants covered in a long black kimono adorned with a dark gray geometric pattern. It wasn’t a bad look but he hid every inch of his body from everyone as usual.

“Wowzah!”

You smile and roll your eyes. “What, never seen a proper woman before?”

You turn around and retreat back into your room to grab your cream square heels, sliding them on while balancing yourself with Tobi’s arm. 

“So where are we going?”

You look at him and smile playfully “You’ll see.”

You grab Tobi’s hand and pull him through the hideout, heading towards the exit. As you walk through the common area, Tobi looks to the side and sees the jaws of Hidan, Deidara, and Zetzu fall to the floor. He can’t help but feel a swell of pride at their jealousy. 

The date, however, was terribly awkward. You tried your best to be flirty but you had no way of telling how Tobi felt. You couldn’t see him smile or blush. You couldn’t tell if he was staring at you with interest or anger. It was extremely one sided and uncomfortable. You did your best to sell the lie but it was probably painfully obvious that you didn’t want to be holding hands with a big masked baby. 

On the way home you sway as you walk next to him, both arms hugging his right one, trying to maintain a normal conversation. It occurs to you that this might be your only chance to ask the burning question everyone in the Akatsuki is thinking.

“Tobi? Why do you wear the mask?”

“Because I don’t want anyone to see my face of course!”

You roll your eyes. “Okay but why don’t you want anyone to see your face?”

“That’s for Tobi to know.”

You shake your head “What, you ugly or something?” You squeeze his bicep flirtatiously. “You get stuck in a house fired and are covered in scars?”

Tobi goes stiff in your hold. You drop his arm and bring both your hands up to your mouth.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. I was only joking!”

Tobi walked next to you in silence. If you thought it was awkward before, that was nothing compared to the embarrassment you felt now. 

“Tobi, you’d have nothing to be embarrassed about you know. It’s not like you’re the only freak in the circus. I mean. Kisame is practically a shark, Sasori lived inside a puppet, and Hidan drinks blood to become a skeleton.” A hot ass skeleton but Tobi doesn’t need to know that. “We’re all weirdos.”

Tobi still doesn’t speak but his body relaxes some. He was getting a little easier to read but you still couldn’t wait for the night to be over. He creeped you out and you still had no respect for him. He was a fool even if he was kinda funny. 

You finally make it back to the hideout and much to your disappointment, everyone has gone to bed. Tobi walks you to your side of the hideout next to Konan’s room and awkwardly gives you two pats on the shoulder before telling you he was off to bed in his high pitched kid’s tone.

You turn to unlock your room with a signature roll of your eyes relieved the night was over.

“Pfh, what a loser, bet he’s never even made a girl cum in his life.”

As Tobi’s walking away he overhears you and stops dead in his tracks. He knows that he’s playing a fool but it wouldn’t hurt to teach you some manners and show you who’s really in charge of the Akatsuki while he’s at it.

Just as you open your door you feel two gloved hands tightly grip your biceps. Someone had snuck up behind you.

“What’d you say?”

The voice was rich and deep. It was a cold blanket that covered you with fear and made chills creep down your back. Your breath falters. You didn't dare turn your head.

“Tobi?”

He pushes you into your room with a finger shoved into your spine between your shoulder blades.

“Would you like to test that little theory?”

You turn around, face painted in fear as you search Tobi’s orange mask for answers. He slams the door closed behind him. Tearing off his robe as he swiftly steps forward causing you to retreat away from him backwards. You’re too distracted by the sudden change in his demeanor to notice the bulging muscles poking through his skin tight shirt before he picks up a shoe and throws it against the wall to kill the lightswitch. 

You reach your arms in front of you, ready to push him away but he somehow passes through them and has a grip on your hair while he is sucking on the skin of your neck. An involuntary pleasured grunt escapes you, realizing he discarded his mask and has his lips locked on your skin. You keep trying to push him off but every time your hands pass through him while his grip against your hair remains solid. You couldn’t figure out how it worked but you were starting to no longer care as he created various bruises along your collarbone. You begin to pant slightly, feeling arousal pool between your legs from how he nibbled against your sensitive flesh. Your mind was slowly fogging over and in your haze you wanna hear his voice again.

“T-talk to me. I wanna hear you s’more”

“And say what, Princess? Tobi isn’t my real name?”

His voice was smooth and intimidating. It made your eyes roll to the back of your head. You lean your face against his.

“Yes, tell me more.” you whisper

“What do you want to hear? That I’m the actual mastermind behind the Akatsuki and you are all my little puppets?”

You begin to lift your leg and wrap it around his waist. Panting from how his baritone tickled your mind.

“or that I’m going to fuck you like a whore right now and turn you into my personal concubine.”

“Yes”

You lunge for his lips, hands clawing the back of his head to pull him into you. You had never been so attracted to a voice in your life. You had no clue what he looked like but you knew he had adorably messy hair and scars on his face. You could feel the tough skin with your lips. He backed you all the way over to your bed and switched places with you so that he could take a seat before pulling you into his lap. 

You straddled him, your heat pressing over his concealed boner, while you feverishly made out with him in the pitch black room. Your kisses left his lips and traveled over the ridges of his face, sucking and breathing on the battered skin he was afraid to show, before you licked a stripe up his cheek. 

He anchored you at your hips and pulled you down on him while he rutted up into you. You cried a needy moan into his ear as your fingers played in his hair. 

“My, my, I think I can make you cum without even touching you. You’ve got yourself all worked up over a little conversation and sitting in my lap.”

You groan at the sound of his voice and begin to grind on him, needing the friction while you kiss his lips. You rub your chest against him as you work yourself up into a frenzy. He reaches behind you, looking for how to take off your shirt when he gives up and opts to rip it off of you instead. 

You let out a small cry, partly in awe of his raw strength but partly because that was one of your favorite tops. 

“I don’t tolerate anything getting in my way.”

“Uh-huh” you agree breathily, cupping his face in your hands, recapturing his lips with yours. As much as you want to keep hearing that velvet voice, you want the lips that form the words to be interlocked with yours. Your arms wrap around his neck as you push your barren chest against his clothed one. His hands explored your soft back. You were glad to feel his fingertips dance over your skin and not his leather gloves. You wondered if you’d get to feel all of him tonight. You could tell how toned he was through his clothes and were dying to lick and nibble his chest. 

“Tobi,” you pant against his face, “please make me cum.”’

He hums and grabs you at your thighs flipping you onto your back and kneeling over you. Your hands continue to explore all over his upper body, running up from his forearms to his biceps, sliding over his delts, and tracing down his traps before sinking your nails into his rhomboids. He grunts into your neck. Arousal puddling in your underwear at the sound. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting your hips and grinding into him some more. Panting and needy, the mystery of him increasing your desire. Tobi grabs the front panel of your skirt and pulls it aside, yanking your panties out of the way. You drag your lips along his jaw. 

One of Tobi’s fingers traces along your slit, collecting some of your slick and smearing it along your sensitive nub hidden within your folds. You twitch from the sudden contact and can feel him smile against your face.

“Someone's sensitive.”

A high pitched “mhm” comes from you as you push your face against his. His thumb casually rubs circles between your legs. Shuddered moans expel into Tobi’s ear as your arms slide back up to Tobi’s neck and wrap around him tightly. He lets a finger slip past your entrance, stroking in and out twice before being joined by a second. 

Your eyes snap shut. He pumps his fingers in and out of you. Your head falls back in pleasure as he scissors you open, playing you like a violin. You squeeze around him, soaking in how it feels to be touched for the first time in over a month. Back in your village you were a menace and well hated but you were never short of male companionship, even if it always ended terribly. Once you officially became a rogue ninja the world was much more lonely than expected. You had imagined it would be different once you joined the Akatsuki but to your own surprise, you didn’t take a lover till tonight. Short of breath you manage to wheeze out,

“Thank you Tobi”

“Good girl, you know your manners.” 

His condescending praise filled you with butterflies when spoken in his bassy tone. You respond by nibbling on his lower lip. You so badly wanted to rip off his clothes but you didn’t dare, too afraid he’d stop. Instead you softly beg into his ear,

“Please shove your cock into me.”

“Of course, Princess. How can I say no when you ask so nicely.”

A small cry of excitement whines past your lips. He darkly chuckles at your neediness. What a sharp turn from the bitch who tried to make a mockery of him by asking him on a date as a joke.

He’d make you pay for that. He intentionally wasn’t pursuing you before but since you sought him out with your farce, now he’d take full ownership of you. You were going to be his property now. He wasn’t talking dirty when he said you’d become his concubine. He meant it. You’d be chained to him, only let off your tether during missions. 

He opens the front of his pants and slips into your quivering entrance, stretching you uncomfortably as he pushed his excessive girth into you. A pleasured wail drew from your mouth.

“What a good girl. Tell me Princess, do you want more?”

“Yes!”

You cry the word. He pulled back slowly just to plunge back in. You sink down into your mattress, getting shoved into it deeper with every inward thrust. It was rough. There was nothing gentle about the way he fucked you. His swollen head pummeled into you, dislocating all your organs. He folded you in half as he pushed in. Your knees found a new home by your ears, his body pinning the backs of your legs, pushing your thighs against your chest. In the darkness he could see the whites of your eyes as they rolled back in your head to look at your melting brain. 

Your mouth was left agape. You were babbling and drooling from his dick dragging in and out of you. You swear you’d never been fucked so good in your life. He brought you to tears on his schlong, pistoning in and out of you. Your nails digging into his back once more.

“Gods damn, Princess!”

Tobi was struggling to maintain his domineering composure. He was losing himself inside of your pussy. It gripped around him tightly. The pink muscle constricted around his member, attempting to milk him before he was ready.  “Eager little fucking slut.”

He husked between thrusts. You body fell limp. You became a rag doll under him. The only part of your body that was tense was your gummy walls which held onto him with a death grip. He pushed his sweaty forehead against yours. Holding the back of your head.

“Fuck this pretty pussy. It belongs to me now. You belong to me. Understand?”

You wished you could’ve answered. You would’ve told him yes. You would've told him that you’d never leave his side. That you’d bend over for him anywhere. You’d wrap around his dick whenever he needed you to. You would willingly degrade yourself in the middle of battle if he wanted. You were addicted to him and you weren’t ashamed to admit it. 

His speed increased. He was about to cum. He brought himself all the way to the edge before he pulled out. 

“Stick out your tongue, Princess.”

You opened wide as he shot his load all over your face and chest. Your body still bent in half; your feet resting over his shoulders. He took the palm of his hand and smeared his fluids all over you. Rubbing the glossy substance into your skin and pushing it into your mouth. You hummed happily which made him melt. He allowed your body to unfold and laid his full weight on top of you, arms possessively threading around your waist and pulling you close. 

You lost your breath. Your mind became a swimming intoxicated mess in his hold. You nuzzled your face further into his shirt while his cum dried on your face and skin. He never undressed. His shirt still on, his pants pulled up. He was a complete mystery to you and now you were invested in solving it. You were his but he was about to be yours just as much. Soon, you’d break him…soon. For now you slept sheltered in his arms.

****************************************************

The next day you both emerge from your room close to noon. The majority of the members of the gang were rough housing together in the common area. All turned still as you came out holding hands with Tobi.

“Holy hell…”

“You two?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact with any of them and instead chose to look up at Tobi’s mask. Eyes locked on the face you weren’t sure you’d ever see. Tobi though had a far different reaction. A smug idea popped into his sick mind. It was time to show everyone that you had an owner now and he wasn’t going to entertain any of these brutes trying to encroach on his possession. In his childish voice he called to his comrades.

“Look at my new toy everyone!”

He yanked on your hand so that you were whipped around standing in front of him, your back to the room. 

“Y/N, suck Tobi’s cock. hmm?”

“Yes, sir”

It was embarrassing and made your face heat up but you felt your mouth water as you knelt down before him nonetheless. On your knees, you open the front of his robe and untie his pants, pulling out his thick cock.

“What the hell…” you hear Konan behind you in complete disbelief. 

You let his pulsing length rest on your bottom lip while you look up at him. His chest rumbles as you slip your tongue out and under his weighty member before opening wide and sliding him all the way down your throat. He grips your hair with one hand before looking up at the shocked faces around the room.

“Y/N belongs to Tobi now. Look how good she’s taking my dick, slurping on it like a good little pet!”

Lewd gargles and squelching sounds came from your mouth as you bobbed back and forth along his cock. He was humiliating you in front of everyone and it was making you wet for him. Your hand came between your legs to rub yourself.

“Aww how precious. She’s even playing with herself for me. You see that everyone?”

You wanted to die from embarrassment but you couldn’t help yourself. The taste of him is addicting. He had you out of your mind.

“Here Princess, let me help you.”

He brings both hands into your hair and pushes you down on him. He thrusts into you at the same time causing you to gag around him. You hear him grumble in delight. You open your jaw and allow him to plummet all the way in. Throat constricting around his tip as it slips past your vocal cords. You hum in contentment, forgetting about everyone watching you. You close your eyes focusing on him and how he feels in your mouth. One hand rubbing your clit more harshly while the other clutches his thigh. 

Tobi’s facade almost slipped. He felt high from the way your warm mouth closed around him. He had half a mind to say he loved you. He opted instead to cease talking so as not to give away his cover and instead simply grunted as his hips snapped into your mouth. 

The remainder of the room watched in stunned silence at the pornographic scene before them. They watch the orange mask fall backwards, looking up at the ceiling as Tobi was close to cumming. The jealousy Deidara felt had him storm out of the room. Konan had an uncomfortable guilt crawl over her skin but little did she understand, you were in heaven. You whimper as you touch yourself, bringing yourself close to an orgasm. The sounds make Tobi hammer into you faster until you feel his hot spend shoot down your throat. Your walls clench around nothing and you bring both arms to wrap around Tobi’s wait, holding yourself all the way down on him as you hug around his waist. 

Tobi so badly wanted to coo in your ear and praise you. Tell you what a good girl you were but he couldn’t muster his carefree sound. Instead he pulls himself out of you and grabs your wrist. He yanks you back into your bedroom and slams you up against the door with the two of you on the other side. 

“Fuck Y/N, you’re such a good girl for me. Here, let me reward you.”

You mewl for him, your lip quivering at the return of his deep voice. He twists his mask to the side gaining you access to his lips. You pull them into you while he lifts you up, slipping his wet length between your folds and fucking you against the door.

The banging can be heard by the group on the other side, sitting in the common area.

“Shit…it was supposed to be a stupid prank.” Konan confesses. “What the hell happened last night?”

If only they knew…

Masterlist

[the-barricade]

First Meet

malleus draconia x reader

reader is not yuu and is placed in pomefiore

summary: you’re a new student at NRC who caught the attention of malleus draconia, and he makes it his mission to recruit you for his club and get to know you.

p.s this is a repost of an older fic I wrote and then deleted, in case it seems familiar to anyone. The structuring may be different, though.

—————————————

The hustle and bustle in and around the hallways of NRC was something you’d have to grow used to, being a new student here was exciting, and also the cause of a little nervousness. It was reminiscent of your first day at school. It was of little surprise to you when you were initially placed in pomefiore, despite it seeming that many of the students there were carbon copies of each other and that you didn’t perfectly fit the mould, you appreciated beauty and perfection.

No longer feeling like a deer in headlights, now that your first couple of days had past, you felt it necessary to go for a wander, and explore the school you were destined to spend the next four years in. It was a spectacle to behold, the school was made in resemblance of the finest castles and littered with intricacies despite its large size. At certain points and corners of the school, you could even observe many different gargoyles and grotesques and even though you may not have not known a lot about them or the differences, they caught the interest of your artistic eye.

After nightfall, you headed out with a canvas in tow. Partly (mostly) because you didn’t want to appear strange by painting a picture behind the school, during the middle of the day, but there was also a nice serenity that accompanied the quiet of the night and the dark, enthralling sky, lit with stars.

Malleus was out on one his daily, late-night escapades, and this time saw an unfamiliar person en route. Usually, this would be something to ignore, but this time it was a little different. They were quite studiously examining a gargoyle, and eloquently relaying it’s features onto a canvas.

Perhaps clouded in a moment of hope, the fae forewent any thoughts that the person may not have any personal interest in gargoyles, but rather just the art that they were to produce, instead, he set his sights on recruiting them as a member of his club.

After roughly an hour and a half had passed since you’d initially went out, you decided it was time to pack up and go back to pomefiore. You opened the door to your room quietly, careful not to wake any of your other roommates up, and went to sleep - completely unaware of who you’ve recently intrigued.

Morning arrived, and the sunlight seeped through the windows, letting you know it was time to wake. After letting your eyes adjust to the light, you got up and readied yourself for the day. There was of course still a hint of mysticism that accompanied attending NRC, but there was also a newly found comfort in the normalcy you’d just attained.

Having finished a fair share of your classes for the day without any major difficulty, your next stop was to the cafeteria for lunch. There were always a surprising amount of options available, and you were in the middle of deciding which one to pick, when something - or rather someone would happen to snap your newfound normalcy right in half.

Wait, what was happening right now? THE Malleus Draconia had waltzed up to you and started talking out of nowhere? Well, this was unexpected. You looked around to make sure he was definitely talking to you, but with how he was staring right at you and how everyone else was occupied with their own business, he was definitely talking to you.

“And I do believe that you would make a good member of the Gargoyle Study Club, if you would like to join.”

Oh, oops. You hadn’t really listened to most of what he’d said, but why was he wanting you to join a study club for gargoyles? Was that even a thing? You looked up at him, only to notice the seriousness on his face. It seemed that this was something he truly cares about, and honestly despite the randomness of it all, you couldn’t help but find it a little cute. Not wanting the situation to turn awkward and not knowing what else to say, you plastered a dorky smile on your face and said “Sure, I can do that!”

His eyes started to sparkle like a child on Christmas at your response, before he nodded and walked away again. This was actually a pretty good thing, in all honesty! With how exclusive and secluded this school is, you didn’t have any previous connections or friendships with anyone around, and joining a club would be a great way to solve the issue.

There was one small problem though, you couldn’t recall Malleus giving any details about when or where the club was. You’d just have to find out on your own, after you’ve eaten your lunch, that was.

The day had ended and ultimately you’d obtained no new information about said club, it seemed like most people didn’t even know that there was a gargoyle study club. Could this have just been an annoying prank?

Maybe, but he did seem quite serious… it was a good thing you’d made a mental note of the green band around his arm when he’d originally started talking to you. He was a diasomnia student, and tomorrow was a Saturday. That was your mind made up, you’d just have to ask Malleus for details about the club yourself.

Once again, daytime struck and you got ready, this time heading for diasomnia, instead of the main building of NRC. When you arrived, you noticed that their dormitory was also quite fantastical, it was however quite different from the interior of pomefiore.

Now that you were here, you felt like a fish out of water, and you also couldn’t be sure if malleus would even be here or where he would be, but it’s not like you’d be here for long anyways. Your eyes landed on a tall boy, that stood out due to his light green hair that was slicked back. Might as well ask him, right?

Hesitantly you walked up to him and greeted him to catch his attention. As if he could immediately tell you weren’t a student of his dorm, he gazed at you with a look of scrutiny. …aha, that was off-putting but you’d already started talking to him, might as well finish it, right? “Hi, do you know where I can find malleus, or if he’s even here?” Seemingly upon hearing the fae’s name, the green-haired boy went off on a tangent. Switching between droning on about how perfect malleus is and how a ‘mere human’ shouldn’t even think of interacting with him. It was as if he was having an argument with himself, and if his boisterous shouting wasn’t directed towards you, would’ve been quite funny.

Upon hearing the commotion, another boy you hadn’t seen before decided to make an appearance. He asked you why you were looking for their dorm leader, but not before scolding the other boy for making a commotion before even hearing you out. You explained that you were looking for him to ask for details about the club he’d invited to you, much to the surprise of the two infront of you.

The second boy simply let out a chuckle, “I think our Malleus is finally making friends! You’ll be able to find him in the library.” You nodded and thanked the boy before leaving, diasomnia having certainly left a unique impression on you. After arriving at the library, it didn’t take long to find the man you’d been looking for. He was sitting in the library, focused on reading a cook-book. He looked quite elegant and paired with his focus and not wanting to disrupt his reading, you were slightly apprehensive about approaching him.

Luckily or unluckily, you didn’t have to, because he picked up on your absentminded staring, and approached you himself. “Did you need something, Y/N?”

“Oh, yeah! It’s about that club you mentioned, I wasn’t too sure about when or where it was, or even if I needed to officially sign up, I was wondering if you could tell me about it?”

Malleus looked contemplative for a second before speaking, “Yes, it seems that I’ve neglected to properly inform you.” Malleus continued, giving you the details on the club, and to your surprise it seemed that the club was in fact, a real thing. Solving the mystery of the gargoyle club let you enjoy the rest of your weekend, all the way up until Monday.

Once again, it was lunch, and this time you were going to spend it with malleus whilst studying gargoyles. You walked out to the front of the school, spotted malleus, and said hello. You were however, wondering where everyone else was. When you asked, malleus kept up a neutral facade, but felt slightly defeated in having to say, “regrettably we are the only two current members”

Oh, well I guess that explains why barely anyone knew about the club. It seemed kind of sad though, being the only one fascinated enough with gargoyles and running a club all by himself, wasn’t he lonely?

No matter, the two of you would just have to make the most of it! Malleus showed you many different gargoyles around the school, it was nice for you, getting to discover a little more of NRC, though Malleus was also a little surprised by how inquisitive you were - his assumption that you were also a gargoyle enthusiast seems to have been incorrect.

Regardless, he enjoyed it, your lack of knowledge surrounding the subject allowed him to discuss and explain his passion to another person who was willing to listen. To you, it was quite endearing how someone regarded as a person to be scared of was also at heart just another normal person, getting incredibly excited and focused about an unusual topic.

These meetings, as a club activity were weekly, but it didn’t take very long for you and malleus to genuinely become friends, every now and then you’d wave to each other in the halls - and your weekly meet-ups were no longer strictly about gargoyles. The two of you would take the time to talk about your day or anything new catching either of your interests.

A couple of months into your friendship, you’d realised you hadn’t even exchanged numbers with malleus, so you asked him about it. Instead of getting his phone number though, you found that he was truly quite… hopeless with technology. This was unexpected for someone like malleus, considering how knowledgeable and apt he was with just about everything. One thing it wasn’t though, was an issue.

It was your turn to take the dragon man by surprise when you’d sent a carrier pigeon to his window, with a letter clutched between its claws. Not having many friends here aside from his dorm-mates, who could freely speak to him in person, had him questioning who the letter was from, could it have been someone from Briar Valley? No, it was just you, his first friend.

The letter was penned in purple ink, and with no specific subject matter, simply talking about random things and asking questions about his well-being. Malleus smiled, holding the letter in his hands, it felt nice having someone care for him instead of being scared of him. But recently he may have started thinking that it’s also nice to care about another person.

He tucked the letter away into a drawer, but it would take him a little longer to tuck it away in his thoughts, as he started penning back his response. And again, just like your Monday meetings, penning letters back and forth quickly became the normal between the two of you.

Despite the familiarity he now associated with you, there was a strange unfamiliarity to the whole situation. Never in malleus’s life did he thing he’d be snuggling into the crook of a human’s neck, whilst listening to them read, studying with someone else, being friends and being vulnerable with someone else. It felt like he’d experienced a lot of firsts with you, and that was something he wanted to continue doing.

Yes, that was right. He’d have to come to terms with it. He cherished you, the way you could make him feel special, how you’d accepted his quirks with open arms and befriended him regardless of your weird, first meet, the way you took an interest in him - exactly how he’d taken an interest in you. That’s why he had to come to terms with it when he cupped your hand in his and said ever-so-gently that he loved you.