#fight this man and you'll come out of it a better person

[mydream-synopsis]

[welcometogrouchland]

I miss them so bad (Dick and Damian)

[solelifauna]

So this NOT to imply the writing is bad

But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser

Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?

Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used

Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael

(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)

Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.

Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.

Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.

Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.

He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.

Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.

Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.

He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.

Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.

"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.

It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.

For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.

“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”

The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.

Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.

With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.

You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.

Finally, one of your spells strikes true.

The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.

You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.

But the celebration is short-lived.

Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.

“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”

With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.

You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.

The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.

You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.

Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.

“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.

You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.

You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”

His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”

You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”

“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”

You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.

The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.

“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”

“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.

“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should’ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”

Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.

“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.

You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.

“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?

Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.

Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”

You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.

Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.

The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.

“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.

You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.

“We’re not done here.”

And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.

Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.

“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.

He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”

His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.

By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”

His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?

“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”

Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”

“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.

“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.

You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”

Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”

Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.

“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”

Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”

And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.

For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.

-

As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.

Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.

What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?

Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.

How did you get so far away?

He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.

Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.

But the moment is fleeting.

He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.

Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.

"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”

Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.

"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"

Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"

"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”

That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.

"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."

"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"

A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.

"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”

Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”

“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.

Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. ��Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.

Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”

With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.

Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.

He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.

Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

[suiana]

(yandere! hater x gn! streamer reader) (oh yeah we're expanding the streamer verse) (i had this idea for a while now actually, expect another streamer reader post sometime in the future)

ynsBIGGESThater: you suck 🤬🤬🤬

hvynjin (MOD): how the hell do you keep coming back i literally banned you from the stream

handsomesquidward: mod get this nobody out of here he keeps disrupting my gooning sessions

guess you should introduce who this loser is huh... anyway! hi, your name is y/n and this right here is-

ynsBIGGESThater: stop making videos u r loser!!!!!

ynslefttoe: yn can u do my math homework for me

-your biggest hater apparently.

you don't even know where he popped up from. one day you were simply streaming with your weird ass fans. then suddenly BOOM, you got yourself your biggest hater. or whatever that means.

you've tried to ban him from your streams for being a nuisance. after all, he found the need to REALLY make himself known.

ynsBIGGESThater: all of u r losers!!! stop watching this streamer 🤬🤬🤬

ynsfuturehusband: yn i love u will u maryr a broek man

ynsrighttoe: did ur ass get bigger 🤤

ynsBIGGESThater has just donated $6.90!

the thing is, he always seems to come back and you don't even know why. doesn't he hate you? why is he even giving you money if he hates you? what is he doing fighting with others in the chat?

you swear if you didn't know any better you'd have thought he was your biggest fan instead. i mean, he gets your attention by not acting like everyone else. perhaps that was his end goal? #notlikeotherboys

"haha... thank you for the donation yns biggest hater. would you like to request anything?"

ynsBIGGESThater: yes, STOP streaming.

hvynjin (MOD): thats it youre getting banned

hvynjin (MOD) has banned ynsBIGGESThater!

well, you'll wager that you get about five minutes of peace before he comes barging back into your stream. in any case, you don't really hav epeace to begin with. not with your weird viewers-

hotnrichfridgedoordaddy: Mod do you have any more exclusive pictures of my lovely darling? I'm interested in buying some.

hvynjin (MOD): yes, check the feed💲

you still don't understand why your fans like you so much. you're literally just some person! yet they've committed crimes in your name??

stalking, violence...

you're sure that this is actually some sort of cult. and you don't want to know how much they worship you.

"haha, um, yns biggest hater has been banned so let's go back to the game-"

ynsBIGGESThater: i am eating GOOD food without YOU. bet you can't eat this AMAZING food.

hvynjin (MOD): GET OUT

[lotus-slumbers]

Hi! I saw your requests were open, so I was wondering if you could write a yandere batfam where they kidnap the reader, but the reader is like, super chill about it, and the family’s reaction to this. Tysm!

🪼 anon

A Gentle Place to Land (Yandere! Batfam x Accepting! GN Reader)

Content warning: yandere themes, obsession, mentions of mental illness, mentions of loss of personal anatomy and drugging. Etc.

A gentle breeze caresses you, the sunlight a gentle kiss.

Here, you could experience such a thing. A thing so close to tranquility you would almost dare to say it was. Most, if ever put in your situation, would be losing their minds. Panicking. Begging and pleading with all they could to try and change their fate. To escape.

You knew such a thing wasn't possible. You knew it from the night they had taken you. Looking into the shadowy eyes of the cowl, before the dart had punctured the tender place below your ear and the drugs entered your system, turning the world dark and dreamless.

You knew. If not the fates, they had decided and that was more than you could fight.

But it was a lot better than it had seemed.

At first, it was a ploy. Trick your captors into believing you're not going to do anything stupid and build repor to get them attached so that they won't do anything too bad to you. Hopefully, gaining their trust enough to plot an escape and succeed.

Just like those movies and true crime TV shows you've seen; comply and wait it out, wait for your chance at freedom.

Your feelings started getting mixed up really soon after. Had you forgotten about what Stockholm Syndrome was or had you been blind to the truth in the first place?

Maybe it really wasn't that bad...

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

An almost comically large sunhat place over top your head, feet propped up on the end of the chair and a cold drink in hand. You didn't even care for the sets of eyes lingering on you, you were used to strange people giving you strange looks as you went about your day in Gotham.

They know this isn't a normal person's reaction and they're worried, most waiting for this little peace to be completely discarded once the shock of the situation passes and you truly understand what has happened. Others are trying to pick apart your phycology to see if maybe, just maybe, something really is different up in that head of yours.

You? Well, you're just sipping on your cool drink before the heat makes the ice melt. You don't want Alfred's signature juice cocktail (non-alcoholic, of course, because you'll probably never be seeing a drop of that in your life again) to get watered down and ruined.

"Are we sure we didn't give then to much of that— um," Tim stalled for a moment, giving your impartial face a once over before deciding the trajectory of his sentence. "—sleeping medicine? Maybe it messed with their nervous system or something?"

"I hate to admit it but I think Drake is onto something here. I mean, who in their right mind would ever submit to this tomfoolery? Willingly being stuck with you all? Father and I, I can understand, but—"

"I never thought you'd ever agree with Tim," Jason grinned, making Damian's face turn sour.

Dick moved behind your seat, leaning down and squishing your face between his hands.

"Nothing's wrong with them!"

You gave a bright, closed eye smile that only served to further concern the man watching from the nearby window.

His butler placed a hand on his shoulder when he gave an exhausted sigh. Although, the makings of a smile did seem to tug at the corners of his lips.

"I'll make another therapy appointment, Master Bruce."

Should he be concerned about your nonchalant appearance or was it just your nature? Has some trauma happened to you previously to make you this way? Was it a trick that he was just having trouble seeing through?

Or was he overthinking this all again? Instead of overthinking it and coming up with more safety measures and plans to keep all the way he envisioned, he should be out there with his kids.

Even if it was just all a trick, there was no way you could manage to outsmart or outrun all six of them.

Bruce shook his head, sitting his drink down on the counter and heading towards the door.

"Don't bother."

[alchemistc]

There's been something about the woobification of Buck that's been sitting on the tip of my tongue for weeks now, and I think I've finally figured it out.

This is, of course, mostly in reference to the moral outrage about a decade-ish (give or take) age gap between two adult men and the infantalization of one said grown man, so all the puritanism isn't really coming from a place of good faith anyway, but here's the thing that's been bugging me that I couldn't quite put a finger on until now.

Buck has people he goes to for certain things. He has, what are in his mind, experts in the field for most of the things he can't think through on his own, that he goes to for a sounding board.

He went to Hen to talk through the sperm donor dilemma for a few reasons that made sense to him. 1) She's a mom. She has very much had to deal with the reality of 'giving up' children she considered her own. Buck is aware that he would be giving up something that could mean something to him, and he wants to talk to someone who has some insight into that. 2) She's dealt with IVF. She knows the risks, she knows the trials and tribulations, she knows about this thing that he is thinking about agreeing to be a part of so she's going to have a fuller grasp on the enormity of everything this process entails.

And they drink about it. Hen gives him what she can and cautions him where she thinks she should and they continue to talk about it and regardless of what SHE thinks, he makes his mind up in part because he got to talk to his Expert.

Bobby is often his go to when he feels like he's losing his grip on things. He's seen Bobby staring down the bottom of the bottle. He's seen the work he's done to pull himself back into the world, and he's seen the way he fights for his family, his people. Buck leans on him in times of questioning himself because he knows Bobby has pulled himself off the ledge with bleeding hands and a bleeding heart.

He reaches out to Maddie about interpersonal shit constantly. We see it all the way back in S2 when he's starting to question what the hell he's still doing in Abby's apartment, and that never really changes. She's the one with advice for him when he's angry with his parents, upset with the firefam, worried about his friends, or just generally concerned with the way he's perceived by people or how he perceives the world. He goes to her when he's embarrassed, ashamed, because he knows she won't judge him for it. She'll call him out, for sure, but she's not going to look at him differently when she knows he's done something he considers bad behavior.

When he goes to her during the Tommy arc, he's there for one reason he'll admit, and another she has to ferret out. 1) He lied to his best friend and he doesn't know why. 2) Oh yeah he went on a date with a dude that's not strange WHY IS THAT STRANGE I'VE ALWAYS BEEN AN ALLY PLEASE DON'T PULL BACK THE CURTAIN - and Maddie is there with two things: 1) It's not weird but it IS new and something you clearly haven't worked through all the way which is why 2) you'll tell Eddie when you're ready

And Eddie is sort of his go-to to bounce ideas off of. Eddie is his Buck expert. Eddie is the guy who can sort through all the bullshit and who sees Buck for exactly who he is, every time, regardless of what Buck himself is thinking. Eddie is his best friend, and he knows the good the bad and the ugly better than anyone else. He is also, quite frankly, the one Buck seeks out to help him contextualize all of his romantic feelings for people. Eddie's the guy he talks to when he's interested in someone, when he's falling for someone, he's the guy through which Buck filters his love interests into the firefam. I do the same shit with my best friend. It's instinct to want the person you consider the expert on you to meet the person you are interested in, it's instinct to want them to like each other, to get along. Buck knows Eddie loves him (in whatever way you see that love, Buck knows Eddie loves him) and he wants this person who loves him to be at least an active listener as he talks himself through the minefield of relationships. I do also think that up until the events of season seven, Buck considers Eddie sort of an expert on that traditional love-marriage-kids-white-picket-fence relationship Buck thinks he's striving for - in a very naive way, because obviously the wasn't what Eddie and Shannon had and Buck knows that, but he's probably fed some of Eddie's rose colored reminiscences back into that notion.

When he comes out to Eddie he's got two worries. 1) I lied to you and I figured out why but I'm still a little worried you think it's weird and 2) I screwed it up with someone I really like and I don't know where to go from here.

And Eddie (Buck expert) reassures him that just because it's new and unexpected doesn't make it strange, that it doesn't change anything in their friendship. And then he gets right to the heart of it - if you like him you should reach out and tell him that. He doesn't know you like we do but if you give him the chance to, he'll love you as much as we do. If he doesn't give it the same shot you want to he's the idiot.

With all that context in mind, Buck isn't seeking out Tommy's attention because he wants an authority figure, or someone to take care of him, someone to guide him through sex or love or relationship dynamics or any of the other random shit I've seen ppl infantalizing Buck about.

What he's looking for, and what he ultimately tells Tommy he'd like to pursue, is a partnership. Someone to walk (or more likely for Buck, speedrun) through experiences together. The Athena to his Bobby, the Chim to his Maddie, the Karen to his Hen.

So every time I see someone infantalizing Buck for seeking out a relationship with an older man for X or Y reason, I'm just like - no. He has Bobby, Hen, Maddie, Eddie, Chim etc for that. He doesn't want or need Tommy for that. He is a grown ass man who has built these strong relationships with his peers and his mentors and he is so fucking aware of that because he reaches for their help any time he feels the urge for a helping hand.

So yeah, Tommy's older. Yes, Tommy has more experience with his sexuality than Buck. And that - that's really it. Buck's been in the same career for more than half a decade. He's lived on his own since he was no older than 19/20. He's had serious relationships, he has a rich and fulfilling life. There is no power imbalance in the relationship between Buck and Tommy.

And while the age gap may be a bit of a draw for Buck, it's not WHY he's attracted to Tommy. We know because he's told Maddie. He's cool. He's interesting. He's confident. He has a cleft.

Buck isn't going into this waiting for someone older and more experienced to take the fucking reins. He felt like he clicked with Tommy, like there was an immediate connection, and yes, Tommy had to kiss him about it for Buck to actually figure out what it was he was experiencing, but from that point on it was all on Buck (and the people he leans on for advice) to help him sort through.

Tommy didn't do shit other than pump the brakes and try to give Buck the space he thought he needed to decide what he was ready for. Buck (again, with the help of his experts - Maddie for the emotional piece of it, Eddie for the Buck of it all) did the work on his own. Tommy didn't swoop in and overbearingly hold his hand through a sexual awakening. He kissed him, asked him out, realized he wasn't ready, stepped back and then checked in multiple times when Buck came back at it going 120 miles an hour.

And then he did everything he could to prove to Buck he wanted the same thing - a partner, someone to talk to, and lean on, and flirt with and rely on to show up whenever they could feasibly manage it (and sometimes when it's a little unfeasible too).

The narrative even acknowledges that Buck had no reason to go to Bobby in this scenario, when he often would, and lays out exactly why.

Within the canon of this particular arc, we're meant to see this as Buck realizing he has the experience necessary to think these things through on his own. This is Buck finally taking control of something that's always felt like it fell into his lap a bit. This is Buck doing more than treading water until his legs give out.

And minimizing that growth bc you personally don't like the LI he's pursuing is gross at best. At worst it's something much more insidious.

[mrpenguinpants]

Low Battery Warning - Touch Starved HCs

— If he goes too long without you by his side, he starts to get irritable and too frustrating for anyone to deal with. For the sake of everyone, please remember to recharge your battery before leaving for extended periods of time.

— Tartaglia, Kaveh, Ayato, Alhaitham, and Dottore

Semi Part 2 For Dottore: Ttorschlusspanik [Masterlist]

I JUST WANT TO WRITE WHIPPED MEN OKAY? What do you mean I have to write a part 2 for two different fics??? I'm honestly surprised I managed to finish this. Also, ALHAITHAM NATION REJOICE, YOUR BOY IS HERE AND I CAN FINALLY MAKE A BANNER. I wasn't going to write him (I'm a kaveh stan) but now that he's here...

Tartaglia

While Tartaglia is the most favored to work with compared to the other Harbingers, that's only by a very slim margin. The closest you'll get to death is when the man gets bored and randomly picks someone to fight, but they usually make it out alive. Maybe a couple weeks in the medical bay and a few broken bones but they aren't dead for the most part. He's also the youngest and therefore the most easy-going even if he's a bit childish. He's a soldier first so he knows the pain of listening to someone verbally beat you down and not having the power to do anything back. But he's still a person at the end of the day and after so many people messing up and delaying his work, he's starting to get irritated. First, it was someone spilling tea onto important documents that he just finished signing, then the Fatui agents stationed near Jueyun Karst being defeated by some no-named treasure hoarders, and then finally being held hostage in his own office because the Liyue Qixing wouldn't leave him alone. God, he slumps over his desk, he just wants to go home and see you!

By the time he finally stumbles through the door, you're already passed out on the couch. He can't blame you, it's very late into the night and he would probably be more upset if you forced yourself to stay awake just to welcome him home. But he can still pout that he was taken away from you for so long, he didn't even get to see you all day. That's borderline torture. But he supposes he can forgive you since you look so cute bundled up in his red shirt. If he happens to take a picture or two that's for his knowledge and eyes only. So he easily scoops you up into his arms, taking a couple seconds to just stand there as he basks in the comfortable weight before he takes you to bed. Just for tonight. This will be the last time work takes him away from home for so long.

It lasts for two weeks. Usually, Childe could hold himself together, he's been away for far longer, but the fact that you're right there and he can't hold you is driving him insane. By the 14th day, Childe is ready to snap his pen in half and hurl it at the next person that comes through that cursed door. He doesn't though because it's usually Ekaterina, the only one that has the balls to talk to him right now, and she deserves far more than she's paid to deal with. But he's touch-deprived and tired. Even Zhongli with his infinite amount of patience advises him to sort himself out before inviting him out to lunch next time. He tried to deal with it on his own, this isn't the first time he's felt claustrophobic, but after the fifth Hilichurl camp he doesn't feel any better which only makes his mood sour further. He might even beat Scaramouche in how short-tempered he is right now. There's heavy air wherever he goes and whatever carefree persona he usually has on is thrown out the window.

It's Zhongli who clues you into how bad Childe's demeanor has gotten, the rascal looks horrible both physically and mentally. Despite the consultant and Childe being on friendly terms, you don't really know the man that well. But he doesn't seem like the type of person to lie so you thank him for the information and make your way to the Northland Bank. To be honest, you've been feeling the effects of not seeing Childe as often as you usually do. You know his work can get so hectic that it keeps him cooped up in his office but it's been a while since you've even seen that fluff of ginger hair. He usually doesn't want you near his work considering how it might put you in danger, but if he isn't taking care of himself then what kind of partner would you be if you didn't help?

Even outside the building, you can feel the effects of what Zhongli talked about. All the agents look like they're on their last legs, there's a gloomy atmosphere surrounding the building even though the sun shines brightly across Liyue harbor, and you can vaguely hear an annoyed Harbinger scolding someone. As soon as you set foot into the building Ekaterina nearly tackles you off your feet. Desperately thanking you for coming and looking at you as if you're the Tsaritsa herself.

As soon as Ekaterina says your name, Childe whips his head around at such a speed that you're afraid his head might fling off as his eyes lock onto yours. You know Childe wouldn't hurt you, never you, but he's looking at you like he's about to devour you and you're suddenly very glad you've never been on the receiving end of his anger. He shoves the papers in his hands into the agent's chest he was probably reprimanding and marches over to where you are.

"C-Childe?" "S-Sir?"

Ekaterina mirrors the wary call of his name until he's finally in front of you and without a word, throws his arms around you. You stumble a bit under his weight but you quickly circle your arms around his back and hold on tight so you don't trip over your own feet. You can only imagine what it looks like for Ekaterina to see her stiff boss suddenly deflate in your arms. A pleased groan escapes from him as he basically lifts you off your feet just so he can hug you closer to him. You almost feel like a child's teddy bear with your legs dangling in the air trapped in a crushing hug. You know that your relationship with Childe isn't a secret but you both don't show any displays of affection, you don't even really interact in public in general, so this is pretty open for the two of you. Well, for you at least. You don't even think Childe is registering anything around him except that you're here.

"Are you okay милый?" you whisper into his ear, nuzzling into the side of his head that's nestled into your shoulder. Your snezhnaya is a little rough around the edges but from how he seems to purr you think he enjoys it nonetheless. "Although I'm happy to see you too, don't you think we should move so we aren't blocking the main entrance?"

He sleepily blinks awake and slowly starts to acknowledge that you're both very much standing at the bank's entrance with everyone shamelessly staring. He frankly looks like he doesn't care, people have working legs, they can walk around you both. But he also doesn't want anyone to find another reason to take him away when he's very comfortable.

"If you need me, don't," is the clipped order that rings out through the bank. You know he's heavily censoring what he actually wants to say but from how everyone cowers away, they can probably tell what would happen if they disobey him. They all give him a nod and a salute before he's picking you up, cradles you into your arms, and swiftly walks upstairs. With a kick of his boot, the door slams shut and he sinks into his chair, you seated pretty on his lap.

"Please never leave me, I think I might die," he groans, re-wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You can only sigh fondly as you gently run your fingers through his hair, rubbing small circles into his scalp and he melts into goo. As if you would want to leave.

Kaveh

You know Kaveh is a bit...eccentric to say the least. He always says what's on his mind and most of the time his thoughts are things he should keep to himself. Even you're not totally immune to his blunt honesty despite the fact he tries to watch how he phrases things when directed to you. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt your feelings, regardless if you know he means no harm. It's rather cute that for someone who doesn't care about what others think of him, he's a bit insecure around you. He likes you, really likes you, and he often finds himself plotting out what he's going to say hours before your lunch date with him. But as soon as you greet him with that charming smile and a brief hug, he turns into putty and whatever flowery language he conjured in his mind is swept away. The confident architect that graduated with honors is reduced to a red-faced mess of stumbling words. It doesn't help that you find it adorable enough to press a chaste kiss to his red cheek and he swears that he's going to pass out from a heat stroke.

He's both extremely glad and terribly conflicted that your love language seems to be touch. He loves it when you brush your fingers through his hair but it always lulls him into sleep so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you hug him tightly but then he never wants to leave so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss but then he goes in for seconds, then thirds, and so on that he doesn't get any work done. If he went into alchemy rather than architecture he would dedicate his life work to studying why you have the touch of an Archon that compels him so. But he didn't and now that he's drowning in debt, he really needs to concentrate and finish his work before the deadline.

So now he has the painful task of trying to find an extremely polite way of asking you to leave him alone without you taking offense and breaking up with him. He would be devastated if he couldn't see your loving gaze on him again. But the situation is dire because as soon as he sees you, all he wants to do is curl up in bed with you in his arms. Preferably forever but he'll cross that bridge when he gets there. But every time he tries to bring it up it only takes one look from you for him to stutter and wave off his words. He tries to pep talk himself and every single time he claims that this will be the day that he, very politely, pushes you off, it ends with him melting into goo and waking up the next day with all his untouched work judging him from the table.

It gets to the point that he begins to air his grievances to Alhaitham of all people. To be fair, he doesn't expect the scribe to listen to a word he says and if he did, it would only be because Kaveh needed to pay his share of the rent. But he's pleasantly surprised when you pop up with a guilty smile and that Alhaitham explained his circumstances to you. He tries to clear up the situation, he has no idea what Alhaitham said specifically but it must have been put in the worst way possible, but you take his hands and he shuts up immediately. You give him a light giggle that melts his heart and you tell him to call for you once he's completed his work.

It was the worst decision he's ever made. Second to moving in with Alhaitham. Maybe his judgment of you being an angel was a lie and you were secretly the devil from how often his thoughts were plagued by you. He could draw a circle and think of your eyes. He knows that he's smitten in your presence but he didn't expect that to double when he's suddenly alone. His only motivation is that as soon as he's finished, he'll be able to see you again. But his mind and his work bleed together and he ends up drawing your face instead of buildings and pipes.

He ends up locking himself in his studio and slowly deforming into slime with how awful he's taking care of himself. Alhaitham has to pry him from the table only for Kaveh to flop in his arms that the scribe gives up and hauls the corpse over his shoulder and makes his way to your home. Kaveh still needs to pay his share of the rent so he's not allowed to die before then.

When you opened the door you weren't expecting Alhaitham at your doorstep with Kaveh over his shoulder. He doesn't seem to want to be in this situation either because it looks like he's two seconds away from throwing your boyfriend across the room. But he manages to reign everything in front of you and quickly explains Kaveh's situation, dumping said man into your arms, and telling you to fix it. You shoot him an apologetic smile that he waves off, it's not like it's your fault, before turning around and making his way back to his own home.

"Kaveh?" you whisper gently against his ear to not startle him. It only takes him a second to register your voice before he's perking up and beaming at you. He easily shifts positions so you're in his arms instead. Twirling you around and using the momentum to tuck an arm under your knees and smoothly picking you up, somehow supporting your entire weight in one arm while the other closes the door. Sometimes you forget that Kaveh is really strong despite his lean stature. He is a claymore user after all.

"Darling! What are you doing here?" Kaveh questions while he makes himself at home. If only your living space was big enough for him to store all his work otherwise he would have moved in with you by now.

"Alhaitham mentioned that your recent commission was taking up all your time and you weren't taking care of yourself. Are you alright?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself while Kaveh takes his shoes and coat off. In these types of moments, no matter what you do or say he'll refuse to let you out of his arms. If he has to live with one arm then he'll gladly do so just so long as his other hand is wrapped around you.

"Never better," he replies with a smile. He's obviously lying given the dark circles under his pretty red eyes but the soft look he sends you is enough to tell you that right now, he's never been more comfortable. It makes you a bit flustered to have such an intense gaze on you but Kaveh is always forward with his affections and this isn't any different. With you in his arms, there's nowhere for you to run to when he tilts your chin down and brushes his lips against yours.

"Be still for me..." he whispers, the vibrations of his voice tingling against your skin as both of your eyes slowly close. Only for the moment to shatter by loud knocks on your door. You both jerk apart and turn to the disturbance with varying expressions. You're a flustered mess while Kaveh scowls as if the door offended his entire life's work. He finally sets you down on your feet and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. Before marching to the door, flinging it open, and telling the man on the other side to shoo before slamming the door in his face. Unless the world is ending, don't knock.

Ayato

To say Ayato works hard is an understatement. There are several nights when he's glued to his desk rather than resting in bed. Such are the woes of him being forever dedicated to his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner. On days when there are big events and everything needs to be perfect, he's nearly inconsolable that Thoma weighs how much he can get away with if he knocks Ayato out with a frying pan. His pondering doesn't go far because even though Ayato looks like a corpse from the lack of sleep, he'd probably knock Thoma off his feet before the housekeeper could even raise his arms. Ayaka has better luck but she's only able to drag him away for a few minutes before he points in a random direction to divert her attention before disappearing as soon as she turns back. It's just something everyone is aware of and they try their best to support Lord Kamisato. But if it starts to look really bad, like Ayato might drop dead at any second, then you're called in. The last defense and their ace up the sleeve. Not to brag or anything but you have a spotless record and you intend to keep it that way.

It only takes one word from you to have the dignified and cunning Ayato turn into a scared rabbit. His name. None of the wary calls of Lord Kamisato, a dismissal of his titles, and certainly not your affectionate terms of endearment. It always brings the temperature of the room to zero and Ayaka has to double-check that her cyro vision didn't accidentally activate. Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, you're not soft on him and you set your foot down when it comes to his extremes. One of the many reasons he fell in love with you but it's coming back to bite him now. He hates seeing you unhappy, doing anything possible to wipe that frown off your face, but when it's him that's making you so displeased he can't help but look like a scolded puppy.

It doesn't take much for you to know that Ayato has overworked himself to the breaking point again. You understand his duties mean that he's going to be riddled with work but you're his partner first and foremost. You're there to care about Ayato, not the Yashiro Commissioner. And Ayato looks like he's falling apart at the seams. Heavy eye bags, pale complexion, and his body swaying back and forth before he catches himself from falling over. It pains your heart to see him like this and yet still push himself to keep going. So you take one, two, and three steps towards him to delicately take his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles into his palm before intertwining your fingers together.

Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, he doesn't disappear as soon as you take your eyes off him. Just stands there and stares dopily at you while you issue orders to take over his work. God, you look so attractive when you're in control. It's been a while since he's seen anything but paper and ink but did you always look this beautiful? He's so glad he's going to marry you. Maybe he can force the elders to move the ceremony date up. Everyone in the room politely ignores the fact that Ayato is saying these thoughts out loud and how red your face has gotten.

He doesn't object when you pull him out of the room with you, blindly following you wherever you happen to lead him by the hand. As long as your hand is in his, he'll follow you to the ends of the earth if you'll allow it. It's a bit comical how the dignified Yashiro Commissioner recedes into himself and crumbles away into a love-sick man just by a simple touch. At much as it makes you feel a bit shy, it's nice to know that Ayato won't try and weasel his way out of your grasp and return to his work.

If anything he clings to you like an onikabuto on a tree. You have to waddle your way to the baths with an oversized blue-haired man refusing to let go and draping himself over your back. You know he's making this as hard as possible on purpose, just do you can dote and pamper him a bit longer before he succumbs to slumber and has to return to work. It dampens his mood thinking of the future but it's quickly ushered away by the warm water poured over his head. It's fitting that his vision is hydro because he fits himself into the space you provide as you begin to scrub his hair clean.

There's something meditative about having his hair washed by your hands that no one else can replicate. It's a luxury that he only receives when he works hard enough that his arms hang uselessly at his sides and his body slumps into itself. Soft and malleable, completely willing to bend and mold in whatever shape you wish. But your hands scrub through his hair gently, rubbing all the stress out of his body and never complaining. Right now there's nothing else that matters more than being here with you and you with him.

"I'm going to rinse your hair out. Close your eyes now," you softly say and he follows your instructions. The rush of warm water is soothing to his ears although it sparks something in his memory that momentarily takes him out of this romantic moment. He reaches blindly behind him to take your hand, rubbing circles into your palm to halt your actions.

"It's just occurred to me but aren't you supposed to be on a trip to Watatsumi island?" he opens his eyes to peer up at you, his long eyelashes tipped with water droplets reminding you of just how pretty Ayato is. It's almost a good enough distraction for you to forget why exactly you're here rather than speaking with Kokomi right now. Almost.

"I was but someone had to go and work himself to death again. You need to take better care of yourself Ayato. I don't want to see Thoma running across all of Inazuma just to drag me back because you can't seem to sit still for a few seconds," your frown deepens with each sentence. Your free hand that's not in his grasp is knocking against his forehead, albeit not hard enough to cause any actual pain. He only chuckles before pulling you into the water with him until you're sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His head lay comfortably against your thighs.

"Apologies." He's not sorry at all. "When you're not beside me I have to throw myself into my work or else I may go insane."

"Oh so now all of this is my fault," you huff exasperated but he can hear the undertones of how happy that sentence makes you. "Come on, you'll catch a cold if we stay here any longer."

"Mmm, indulge me," he mumbles into your skin, his eyes closing once again with a content smile on his face. He doesn't need to see to know that you have an equally fond expression.

"Oh, so now my lord wishes to relax?"

"Only because you're here."

Alhaitham

You know that your relationship with Alhaitham is unusual to onlookers. You're both polar opposites and yet somehow stumbled into a rather healthy and committed relationship. To others, Alhaitham is a talented and intelligent man. The perfect bachelor if it wasn't for his "extraordinary sense of individualism" that he doesn't pay attention to people around him. He's notorious for being hard to get along with that not even his handsome face is enough for people to sit around for too long. Meanwhile, there's you. A wandering traveler who takes work whenever anyone needs an extra pair of hands. You're a bit well-known for accepting any job that pays well regardless of how dangerous or weird it might be. But unlike Alhaitham, you're more than happy to make conversation and you're often seen conversing with scholars from every one of the Six Darshans.

To everyone's knowledge, it's you that's the clingy one. You always have a hand around his arm or throw yourself at him shamelessly. Everyone assumes that Alhaitham tolerates it because he never pushes you off but he doesn't reciprocate affection to the degree that you do. If only those nosy scholars could see him now. Your newest job has you traveling to the Chasm to help collect and study the newly opened area. While the Chasm is close to Sumeru, a series of mysterious accidents led the entire mine to be closed. With the Liyue Qizing gradually reopening the area there's a lot of ground to cover. Alhaitham doesn't care much for the details except that this means you'll be away from him for a few years rather than a few weeks. As soon as you told him the expected date you'll return his face instantly soured. It was so cute that you couldn't help but press kisses to the corners of his mouth until they lifted. But one thing led to another and you're now trapped underneath his strong figure for the past couple of hours with no signs of him letting go. Every day you're gone equates to one minute he gets to keep you here.

No matter how much Alhaitham wishes to make you stay, even going so far as to bribe you, you eventually gather your things, press one last kiss to his lips, and leave him in his too-quiet house. He doesn't want to admit it but as soon as he closes the door he already feels lonely. But he'll learn to cope and continue with his life. He's been through more challenging obstacles and made it through. It's only two years, 3 months, 14 minutes, and 58 seconds. Alhaitham sighs and leans against the door. He's not going to make it.

Everyone else is content to whisper behind their hands about how the scribe seems to be more hostile. While Alhaitham doesn't have the most friendly personality, he's still somewhat polite until someone gives him a reason to exit the conversation. But now Alhaitham can barely get two sentences in before insulting someone. He doesn't even mean to do it on purpose, it just slips out. A girl who happens to share your eye color is met with a backhanded compliment that she should eat more fish. A man whose skin color is just a shade lighter than yours is met with an irritated scowl before he could even say anything. It's only now that people start to miss your presence because anything is better than a walking warning sign.

It only takes a few weeks for him to crack. He's not usually this starved of attention but the knowledge that he won't see you for another two years has him itching at his wrists. While on the outside there doesn't seem to be any changes, he's perfectly calm and collected, but his facade breaks when he starts making rash decisions. When he heard that his senior Kaveh needed a place to stay due to his financial situation, he offered to live with him much to everyone and his own surprise. Even Kaveh suspiciously asks why Alhaitham is being so generous. He doesn't dignify it with a proper answer, only that he better get his situation fixed within the next two years or the scribe is kicking him out.

As the second year rolls past, it's Kaveh who brings up Alhaitham's sudden mood change. He seems...excited. Kaveh chalks it up to Alhaitham being happy that Kaveh is finally moving out but that'd be kind of low even for someone like Alhaitham. As someone who cares about the arts and romance, there's a certain care in how Alhaitham cleans the house. Every systematic movement is laced with a longing gaze. His wrists are rubbed raw that Kaveh has to physically step in or he might rub so hard he reaches the bone. But above all the dangerous aura around Alhaitham is replaced with something Kaveh can only describe as restless patience.

"Honey, I'm home!" your happy voice is accompanied by the loud slam of the door crashing against the wall. Kaveh is startled by a random stranger entering their house but mostly at the term of endearment. Alhaitham only lowers his book at your voice before going back to reading. A bit rude in Kaveh's opinion but he can see the small smile that Alhaitham tries to hide behind the pages of his book. It's not like you aren't a bit devious yourself. So you retaliate by plucking the book out of his hands, taking a quick glance at his page number before placing it on the desk.

"Welcome back. I assume your job went well?" Alhaitham sighs as you kick his legs apart, plop yourself down into his lap, and rest your head against his chest. If you weren't so enthralled by the masterpiece that was Alhaitham's physique, you would have laughed at how the blond-haired man seemed to stare owlishly at the scene. His eyes almost fall out of their heads when Alhaitham doesn't push you off, doesn't throw you over his shoulder, or even make the slightest hint of being irritated or embarrassed. He just places his hands around your waist, rests his chin on your head, and sends an icy glare to which the blond-haired man scoffs before excusing himself. It's not anything different from what he usually does to onlookers although this is you and you can tell just how weary he is. How deeply he relaxes in your hold as the tension melts from his shoulders. How his eyes search over your body for any injuries that you might have gotten. It does look like you got a bit roughed up during your stay at the Chasm. Your hair is cut shorter than he remembers, you've put on some muscle, and there are a few nicks and cuts running along parts of your skin that are visible. But none of that matters because you're here. You're finally here.

"Aww, Haitham did you miss me?" you tease only to quickly eat your words when he manuever's you sideways so he can pin your back against the couch. You're hit with a sense of deja vu back to two years ago when you were about to leave for this trip.

"The next time you take a commission that lasts longer than two weeks, I'm coming with you or you're not going at all," he grumbles as he tucks himself into the crook of your neck with no signs of leaving. You laugh now but he's dead serious.

Dottore

You aren't sure when it started but at some point, you've been labeled as "Dottore's Favourite". He always seems to be the slightest bit nicer if you happen to be there, his voice a smidge less aggressive, and a lot more touchy. He's a Doctor first so he doesn't want to be contaminated by whatever bacteria people have gathered. But with you, he always seems to have a hand on you. Either harshly pinching your cheeks like a child with a crazed grin whenever you mumble something he deems stupid or pulling your arm of out its socket as he yanks you through the hallways of his lab. You act almost as his shadow, permanently glued to his feet and forced to follow wherever he goes.

You wouldn't consider yourself exceptional at your job but you did know how to listen. Perhaps it was your blatant disregard for your lack of safety since your head was always in the clouds that let you do your job with a steady hand. You don't blame your college's, it's hard to work under so much stress. If you had to do quantum physics and whatever the hell smart people do with someone who could, and would, kill you on the spot if you couldn't tell him what 3567 x 438 was on the spot, you think you could have exploded and crumbled on the spot. But you were just the ditzy receptionist who twirled a pencil on her nose more than on a paper. The only thing you were required to do was make sure Dottore was never bothered and let him know if anyone important needed his attention.

You've seen the Regrator the most compared to the rest of the Harbingers. You don't know what a banker needs from a doctor but you're not about to ask. It's not your business and you aren't paid enough to care about what your boss does. Besides, for such a handsome face his presence creeps you out which is saying something considering there's a maniacal doctor that treats human lives like numbers on a stats page. But since you are his "receptionist" you have to make conversation with him. Most of your interaction extends to him asking if the Doctor is in and you politely saying that he's out. You both pointedly ignore the loud crashes and angry yelling from one of his segments behind the closed steel door.

Once again, you don't consider yourself exceptional at your job. You're just a lousy receptionist at a place that doesn't require it and who spends all their time spinning in the office chair than doing actual work. You're just as replaceable as any grunt in this hell hole. So when Tartaglia waltzes through the doors, blinking at you with his dead fish eyes, before nodding to himself and hauling you out of your chair you can only hope that Dottore manages to remember that he has a meeting with Pantalone at noon.

You're hardly gone for an hour. Tartaglia was just bored, bored enough to come to Dottore of all people, that he happened to spot you who looked equally as bored. He just roughed you up a little before he deemed you completely useless and a horrible fighter before sending you back on your way. Seriously, if he wanted a fight he should have just picked one of the skirmishers instead of a damn receptionist. Although you may have to reconsider your position because as soon as you walk back into the lab, a girl is throwing herself at you and demanding where you've been.

You don't get the chance to answer before she's hurriedly running down twisting hallways, down the stairs, and punching in codes so complicated it looked like she was trying to make music out of them. Whatever questions you have are ignored in favor of getting you somewhere as fast as possible. It begins to make sense when you're finally shoved into a room, the girl who dragged you all this way throwing herself onto her knees and begging for forgiveness for letting you wander off.

The lab is an absolute disaster. This isn't the organized chaos you're acquainted with but the aftermath of a manic episode you're familiar with. Glass shards dripping with fluorescent liquid, research notes torn apart that flutter around the room as faux snow, and one mad doctor in the middle.

"Where have you been?"

For someone who destroyed years worth of progress, he sounds oddly calm and collected. His deep voice is firm while he fiddles with a test tube of blue liquid, watching it slosh around before placing it onto a broken table. He barely pays any mind to the girl currently on her hands and knees, forehead pressed to the ground while she glares at you to say something.

"Out," is your reply. A casual shrug of your shoulders even though the Dottore's back is to you. He's not wearing his usual white coat. That's too bad, you think it looks kinda cool. Really goes with his bird aesthetic.

"Out...out you say. Out. Out. Out," he mumbles softly, each time he say's the word "out", he taps the test tube harder onto the table. The lull in conversation only makes the pressure of the room drop lower before the tension snaps and he hurls the test tube at the girl still on her knees. It's only thanks to your reflexes that you manage to grab the collar of her uniform and throw her back just as the test tube collides with the floor, the liquid melting away the concrete where her head was. You can only give her a nudge and a look towards the door for her to scramble to her feet and flee as far away as she can. The slam of the door behind her acting as the nail in the coffin as Dottore's body seems to slump in on itself.

"Where have you been?" he asks again, running a hand through his messy hair. He sounds and looks far more tired, his fingers twitching to reach out and hold you but his pride stopping him. So you push yourself and step forward into his space, reaching your hands out to cup his face and rubbing soothing circles into his porcelain skin. He doesn't lean into your touch but he doesn't push you away either.

"Getting tossed around by Tartaglia. He came by saying he was bored and I just so happened to be there," you say absentmindedly, twirling the long lock of blue hair that hangs off the sides of his mask. He responds by snatching your wrist, squeezing hard enough until your bones creak. "Were you worried? Did you think I ran away?"

He doesn't dignify your question with a response. Simply shrugging your hands off his face before he reaches up to pinch your cheeks, a familiar cackle vibrating from his chest.

"As if you would have anywhere to go."

———

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @openingssequence @onowie

[save-a-forest-ride-a-bear]

🗒 ꒰⸝⸝₊ General Dating Headcanons ❛ ✧

Featuring: Astarion, Gale, Wyll & Halsin

# Note: content warning for very brief talk of abuse and general trauma back to navigation ´ˎ˗

🌿┊ASTARION

Talk about touch and attention starved. This guy wouldn't know a healthy relationship if it hit him in the face. Whenever you're nice to him or touch him without any innuendo, he's on edge. You must want something from him. Why else would you be doing this? It doesn't make sense.

Speaking of which, touching him out of nowhere usually doesn't end well. He has a tendency to flinch. He cackles and says he just thought he saw a bug, "Silly me," but you both know better than that.

He grows used to it, however. It just takes some warming up to. Eventually, the discomfort fades, replaced by a yearning so strong he swore he felt his heart beat again. When his brain realizes you don't want to hurt him and it's safe to be around you, he starts craving more contact. He's too prideful to ask, but he's not good at hiding it, either.

He loves any kind of compliment, don't get him wrong, but the ones that have nothing to do with his appearance seem to stick more. He's heard every single little praise possible for his face and body — but for his personality? For his mannerisms? If it ever happened before, he can't remember it.

Insists he doesn't like cuddling and only does it because you want to. But the one night you didn't, you woke up to him clinging to you anyway. He said he must've done so in his sleep, completely ignoring the fact elves can't sleep. Deception: critical failure.

Surprisingly protective. If you get hurt during a fight he goes ham on the enemy while yelling for someone else to take care of your wounds right now. He lost everything he had after Cazador — lost even himself to the hands of that sick, wicked man. He can't afford to lose you too.

The relationship started with him trying to manipulate you, sure, but that's not the case anymore. He cares. He genuinely cares for something other than himself for the first time in two centuries, and he's scared you still think you're being tricked by his charms. Again, he's too prideful for constant displays of affection, but he does say "I love you" more often than ever. Maybe if he says it enough times, you'll believe it.

He stares a lot. There's just something so endearing about seeing you in your own little world, oblivious to everything else, or at least oblivious to his gawking. It's the most honest part of you, the most yourself you could be, and he enjoys it from afar.

🌿┊GALE

So needy. You leave him at camp for a few hours and you come back to him acting like he needs to be sent to the seaside for his health. A year of living as a hermit does things to a man's necessities for attention.

Loves your scent. He doesn't share his clothes with anyone (that fabric is expensive, dammit), but he insists you wear them so that they smell like you later.

Despite being a cat owner, he's very dog-coded. Will do things with the sole purpose of receiving praise or kisses from you and gets extremely pouty when he doesn't.

Speaking of kisses, he takes any excuse conceivable to kiss you. Good morning, good night and good luck kisses are very much mandatory. Doesn't even have to be on his lips, he's more than satisfied with a cheek or forehead kiss as well.

He enjoys being taken care of, even if he complains. When you scold him for not sleeping over some ancient tome, he can't help but feel loved. Will return the favour, of course — especially if it comes to food. He's very insistent with the "three meals a day" thing.

Will read to you, there's no way around it. It's relaxing for both of you, so he doesn't see why he shouldn't. He also says he can pay attention better to the text when he says it out loud, anyway. You having your head on his lap as he does it is merely a bonus.

🌿┊WYLL

If this man has any flaw, it's that he's always trying to make every moment you spend together perfect and forgets to just lay back and enjoy himself. Even then, he only does it because of how much he loves you.

The last romantic! Goes all out with dates and gifts — fancy restaurants and the biggest bouquets you've ever seen. Money is no object when it comes to you. Truly a good old-fashioned lover boy.

Definitely has a saviour complex — the type to say "I can fix them" unironically. He just loved you and wants you to be okay, and if he has to drag you there himself he will.

Will go on rants about how smitten he is with you and how perfect you are on a daily basis. If you have to leave for the day, he'll write it as a love letter instead.

Always holding you close, but there's no possessiveness to it. It's a display of affection, not ownership. He's yours as much as you are his.

Loves taking showers together. Not for any sexual reason (though he wouldn't complain if things ended up going down that path), he just finds it incredibly intimate and genuinely enjoys washing your hair for you.

You're not just another romance to him — you're the love of his life, the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with, if the gods allow it.

🌿┊HALSIN

Despite the whole "Desire flourishes wherever it finds purchase" thing, he genuinely doesn't see himself falling for anyone else as he did for you. It's nice to know he could still indulge if he wanted, but for now, he doesn't.

Loves having his hair played with. There's just something so soothing about it. Or maybe it's his wild shape talking, asking for pets. We'll never know.

Always finds an excuse for you to sit on his lap. Again, not for sexual reasons, he just likes wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head or shoulder.

Even though he isn't one for commitment, he has a constant, extremely severe case of baby fever. He obviously wouldn't push you if you're not ready, but he does make his sentiments on the matter known.

Stepping dangerously close to smut territory with this one, but he loves how small you are compared to him. The way he engulfs you entirely when he hugs you or how your hand disappears under his as he holds it — it's endearing to him.

I cannot go without mentioning how good his hugs are. Like, seriously. He's so warm and gentle but still strong and it makes you feel safe. It's the best thing in Faerun.

Loves how you look like wearing his clothes. It ties into the size difference thing, since they just look huge on you. Also, much like Gale, he has a thing for your scent, so there's really no downsides.

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take

Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking

Vox

(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).

Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)

(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)

I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.

Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.

That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.

So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.

If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.

It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.

His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.

Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.

If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.

(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)

Valentino

Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).

It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.

I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)

After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)

He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.

He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.

He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.

Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.

It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.

Alastor

This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.

It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.

He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.

Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.

If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).

Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.

Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.

Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.

He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.

Lucifer

It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.

When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.

Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.

Get this man a work schedule!

Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.

At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.

Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.

You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.

Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.

Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.

Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.

He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.

You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.

"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.

[just-a-ghost00]

Are you on the right path?

Group 1

Song : Meltdown - Motionless in White, Lost At Sea - B.I ft Bipolar Sunshine & Afgan Cards : Knight of wands, Emperor, queen of pentacles, Empress, knight of cups, 7 of cups

Not only are you on the right path but you're also on the verge of manifesting your divine counterpart. With a bunch of other lovely souls that will likely confuse you. Because all of them are possibly soulmates. Group 1, are you a candle? Because you shine so bright a lot of people are gathering around you and celebrating you. Some might even want to blow that candle of yours (pun intended). The future seems pretty positive for you so far. Expect several romantic offers, a lot of flirting and a lot of fun, mixed with a pinch of confusion. It feels like even though you reject some offers, these souls will stay in your lane because yall are a team. A soul fam. A pack of hungry wolves that strive for success. Look at you! All sexy and pampered, ready to secure the bag and be the next big thing. Dear Lord, you are gorgeous! The Universe is clapping for you and so is good old Wade. What more can you ask for? You'll be stepping into your power, getting them opportunities and living your best life. Yall have been doing the work and it's paying off big time. In terms of potential zodiac signs to look out for, we have Aries, Sagittarius, Taurus, Cancer and Pisces. Possibly Scorpio and Leo as well. You'll be attracting men and women identifying individuals alike, even non binary people. Every one seems to be drunk in love with you. I feel like you're the Empress in this spread. And then you have two knights, one queen and one emperor circling around you like sharks. And this isn't necessarily a bad thing. The Emperor person is your divine counterpart. Now, choosing them isn't mandatory. I feel like there is no wrong answer in this situation. Whomever you choose to be with is the one for you. Fate is in your hands.

Letters/possible significant signs : M, B, E, K, camels, horses, koi fish, stars

Group 2

Songs : Nakigahara - The GazettE, Awake and Alive - Skillet Cards : 10 of cups, the world, 5 of wands, 4 of wands, 7 of cups, black numen rx

Though you may face hardships coming from your community or the environment you're in, feel confused at the amount of fork in the roads you're presented with, you are heading in the right direction. And the outcome of your journey is a positive one. You may be travelling or relocating soon, finding a new home. This is a new begenning for you. You're getting out of a dark night of the soul. I was about to write "dark knight" instead. There could be Batman fans in this group. If we take the Batman metaphor, Bruce Wayne has been through a lot. Many times, he was faced with hardships and doubted his purpose. He doubted the good in him as he was flirting with the shadows of humanity, dealing with the worst in people. Yet, he never stopped moving forward. He kept fighting, he kept hoping for a better future for humanity. And eventually he'd find something positive to hold on to. Well, same goes for you. Because there are obstacles on your way and people that don't see eye to eye with you doesn't mean that you should stop believing in and fighting for your ideals and dreams. Which you will be doing in the future without a doubt. Expect more happiness, fulfillment in most areas of your life. Expect a healthier and more supportive community, a lot of interesting opportunities. You're taking your destiny in charge and deciding to work towards your goals no matter the opinion have of you. This time, you are choosing yourself over others. That's the spirit group 2! Hit the bull's eye! You can be proud of yourself.

Letters/possible significant signs : koi fish, dogs, roses, A, W, N

Group 3

Songs : Break me The GazettE, path of the wind aekasora, The Beginning One OK Rock

Cards : knight of swords, 10 of pentacles, king of cups, wheel of fortune, page of pentacles, hanged man

You may have had a rough time lately group 3 and were in a phase where your reality didn’t match your expectations and hopes nor did it align with the amount of effort you put into manifesting your desired reality. You may have felt desperate, depressed, frustrated. But let me be the bringer of good news : that vicious cycle is ending. A new wind is blowing in your direction. One that will make you soar high and above that dark cloud you were stuck in. You’re going to see the bigger picture and you will thank yourself for holding on all these years. Your career and studies are going to take a major positive turn. Luck is in your favor. Yes, you are on the right path. You always were. You just didn’t see it because you were in the maze. But you’ll gain a new perspective soon with that hanged man energy. I feel like you’ll be taking a completely different approach to your life in general. If you were considering completely changing your work methods or habits, that is definitely your sign this is the right thing to do. If you were the kind to follow others and hang to tradition as a safety measure, now you’ll be taking the lead and innovating. If you were the kind to wait for others to notice you and ask about you, now you’ll be the one reaching out and asking about people. And vice versa. You may be learning new skills that will benefit you financially. You may get help from an Earth and/or a Water sign. If you are a Virgo or a fixed sign (Leo, Taurus, Aquarius, Scorpio) then this is your confirmation this reading is for you. You are encourage to keep going in the direction you’re heading and be resilient. You are doing a good job group 3. There may be a connection solidifying in the 3D over time. That grounding of the connection will however happen slowly. It may take a lot of time before it comes to fruition. You may at some point enter a stagnating energy and feel like nothing is moving. Do not be scared when that happens. This is only temporary.

Letters and significant signs : spiders, eyes, squirrels, B, O, K, P, W

[starstruckgrrl]

Endeavor secretly into (literally, in, lol) Natsuo’s girlfriend👀👀

a/n: this is my favorite request so far, thank you! so sorry this took so long haha, i’m horrible at being punctual, but i’m doing a bit better! this is my longest fic 😭

┆︎ ☆ synopsis: natsuo always complained about his father, making him out to be such a bad person. when you finally meet him, you are mutually captivated.

↳ ♡₊˚. warnings: cheating, older man/younger girl, female reader, endeavor is a really bad father, choking if you squint, he destroys the necklace natsuo bought you, possessive enji

your boyfriend of 8 months still hasn’t introduced you to his family. initially, you had started to think that natsuo simply wasn’t serious about you. when you confronted him, though, he relented and told you he would introduce you to them.

a few days later, natsuo told you the plans. the two of you were to come over for dinner at the todoroki residence, and a movie in their living room after.

you were very excited the day of, purchasing a new formal but cute outfit for yourself that could show parts of your personality. as you got ready, natsuo was sitting on your bed and scrolling through his phone.

"are you sure i look okay, natsu?" you asked your partner.

"yeah, i'm sure. it's not that big of a deal anyways, my opinion on you won't change no matter what my stupid father thinks." he replies. ah. right. his father.

enji todoroki was seemingly the source of all of natuso's problems and anger. your boyfriend was usually very cheery, but when he was upset, 9 times out of 10 it was about his father.

you were still trying to head in with a bright smile, so you were opting to forget about the nasty (but small) pieces of information natsuo had given you about his father.

even if you hadn't heard bad things from your boyfriend, meeting the #2 is a nerve-wracking experience, especially meeting him as enji todoroki, and not endeavor.

unfortunately for you, you'll be meeting every other sibling for the first time as well. the only sibling he talks about is his deceased brother, touya todoroki.

you know their names, but not much more.

quickly looking at the clock, you noticed you only had a few more minutes before you had to go. you slipped on your favorite earrings, ready to go.

you turned to find natsuo up and next to you, with a small box in his hand. you looked up at him, smiling.

"is this for me?" you asked, your smile wide.

"of course. take it." he told you, holding the box out to you.

you grabbed it and gently opened it, revealing a beautiful silver necklace with his initial "N" in a cursive font as the pendant.

you gasped and hugged him, saying, "i love it! thank you!"

he hugged you back and pat your head before asking, "do you want me to put it on?"

"yes please!" you replied, as he put it around your neck and clasped it tight before letting it fall. it fit perfectly, and it was beautiful.

you thanked him again and gave him a kiss on the cheek. natsuo was always sweet, and he was handsome. especially in his cargo pants and his white button up, his hair brushed and looking nice.

"alright, let's get going. we don't want to be late. god knows my hardass of a dad won't let me hear the end of it."

fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you allow natsuo to guide you to the car and into the passenger seat.

~

arriving at the todoroki household was a bit of an ordeal. his siblings flooded you at the entrance and began asking many questions before you could even step in.

in the midst of a question the youngest todoroki was asking you, a gruff voice interrupted.

“enough. let her enter the house. it’s impolite to keep a young lady waiting on the doorstep.”

with that, you were ushered in by fuyumi. several feet away from the doorway was enji todoroki. bowing your head to be polite, he gave a small smirk at your manners.

in truth, enji believed that natsuo would have brought home an ill-mannered, clumsy woman to spite him.

he watched out of the corner of his eye as you took your shoes off to neatly place them by the doorway, and how you politely followed fuyumi to the living room, and then the dining room.

your soft smiles and small nods to show you were listening to the siblings captivated him in a way he couldn’t yet understand.

~

after a small tour of the house, everyone sat down in the dining room. fuyumi, with the help of shoto, created a beautiful spread of food. you lightly fidgeted with the hem of your dress as you all waited for enji to enter, and natsuo cupped your cheek and smiled at you to reassure you.

natsuo was very happy that everything was going well, and was secretly proud that his father hadn’t told him off for choosing an insufficient partner.

unfortunately for him, his father didn’t only approve of you, but he wanted you for himself.

walking into the room with his back straight, enji caught sight of his son’s hand on you, and felt a surge of anger go through him.

natsuo, catching sight of his father, put his hand down by his side.

enji sat, and after words of appreciation for fuyumi and shoto were shared, everyone began to eat.

as he eyed you, enji also began to feel guilty. he was trying to work on being a better father, but now he’s catching himself watching his son’s girlfriend? there had to be something wrong with him. but was it really his fault that you were so beautiful? truly, you were the most gorgeous person he had ever seen.

as he thought longer, his guilt began to abate. natsuo was always his least favorite child. always having to be right, always trying to one-up him in every argument, always acting high and mighty, even when he was trying to improve.

enji stopped his train of thought there, before he did anything drastic.

~

dinner went well, with everyone sharing a few laughs and overall having a good time. you were pleased that natsuo’s father had engaged in polite conversation about your career with you, sharing some of his wisdom and praising you for being a hardworker, even if what you wanted to do wasn’t deemed the most “important” by society.

his praise made you blush deeply even thinking back at it. the way his eyes changed and his mouth curved up to form a small smile. he held so much power, it was almost suffocating, but it was also like being engulfed in a sweet warmth, in safety.

he even considered you to be on his level, telling you that honorifics weren’t necessary. “enji,” he told you to call him when everyone else had stepped out of the room to bring in the dessert trays.

you couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to be with him - but you tried to stop yourself before you got too far ahead. he was your boyfriend’s father, a hero for god’s sake, he probably had bigger prospects than you.

you and natsuo began giving your goodbyes, putting your shoes back on, and walking out of the door. before you could make it out, though, you caught enji’s eyes. the look he gave you this time was different than all the others, filled with want, with need.

you smiled at him, letting your eyes close for a moment to give him a genuine smile. it melted his heart. why were you so perfect?

your brief shared moment was interrupted by natsuo guiding you out by your shoulder, the two of you walking down the pathway to his car.

his family stood on the doorstep, fuyumi and shoto waving you off with enji behind them. natsuo let his hand fall from your shoulder to your hips, wrapping his arm tightly around you to bring you closer. enji almost growled at the display. did he know how his father felt about his girlfriend? was he trying to display dominance?

enji shook his head and turned to walk back into the house, glad the long night was over, but secretly wishing you would’ve stayed.

~

in the car ride back, natsuo vented his frustrations.

“god, he’s such an ass. did you see the way he was staring at you? what’s his fucking problem?”

you stared out the window, not interested in his rant after a nice night. his father hadn’t said or done anything, so what was the problem? but natsuo’s next sentence caught you off guard.

“i bet he wants to fuck you. he’s such an old pervert.”

you flushed, stammering out, “w-what?”

it was unlike natsuo to use vulgar language like that, especially when it came to sex. he was usually attempting to use romantic, flowery language.

“i’m serious,” he said, “he was practically eye-fucking you. let’s never do that again, i don’t want you around him.”

you frowned, thinking about the good time you had with his family, but agreed to make natsuo happy. when it came to his father, you knew better not to push.

~

your time seeing enji todoroki again came much sooner than you thought.

natsuo had asked you, very dejectedly, to stop by his childhood home to collect the jacket he left there, only a week after the dinner night. he only asked because he was caught up with exams, and he thought fuyumi would be there.

she wasn’t.

you nervously walked up to the todoroki household, wearing a casual outfit with the necklace natsuo had bought you.

knocking on the door, you were greeted by enji himself, the man you were most nervous to see.

he wore a black t shirt with gray sweatpants, the infamous combination. you caught yourself staring a bit too long, and he smirked at the way you looked away shyly.

you explained in a small voice that you were here to collect natsuo’s jacket, and enji invited you in to wait in the living room while he tried to find it.

sitting on the couch, you were looking around the living room when he came back into the room.

“i couldn’t find it. he’s sure he left it here?” he spoke.

“yes, he said he was sure. he was nervous about letting me come back here, so he must’ve been confident it was here.”

you paled when you realized what you said. you just admitted to natsuo’s father that he didn’t want you coming back. fuck.

“oh?” he said, beginning to smile, “my son didn’t want you coming back? why would that be? i was sure we had a nice time.”

as he said this, he sat closely next to you, his hand next to your thigh.

his proximity made your nervous, and you decided to be honest.

“natsuo was, um, nervous that you…”

“that i?” he asked, leaning over to you.

“w-wanted, uh, to… do something? to me? i know it sounds really stupid, he’s just-“

“he was right.” enji finally said, and reached to hold your face as he started to kiss you.

you kissed back, passionately. you should’ve felt guilty, but, honestly, you weren’t even thinking about natsuo.

enji put his hand on your thigh, your soft skin exposed by the shorts you were wearing. he kneaded softly at your flesh as his tongue circled around yours.

you whimpered at the contact, his warm hands sent a tingling feeling to your lower half. your hands shot up to hold his head closer to yours.

as he kissed you, his large hands cupped your ass and lifted you up and onto his lap.

your pussy was sat right on top of his cock, which you felt throb, your thin shorts and underwear not doing much to protect you.

you felt yourself become needy, and you began to grind on his cock as the two of you kissed. he groaned into your kiss.

his hands released your ass to hold your chest softly, a contrast from his roughness when picking you up earlier. he didn’t want to hurt you.

appreciating his care, you pulled back from him to begin to take off your shirt, natsuo’s initial around your neck falling down to lay between the valley of your breasts. when you were left with only your bra, he beat you to unhooking it and tossing it on the floor.

“fuck. you’re gorgeous,” he groaned as he leaned forward to kiss and suck on your tits. his tongue lapped at your nipples, and you shivered from the contact. your hands held his hair, tracing small circles on his scalp.

when he pulled away, he pushed you back softly to lay down on the couch, the fabric softening your small fall. as you laid back, enji pushed your legs up and open, pulling off your shorts and ripping off your underwear out of impatience.

he came up to meet you face to face. his face only several inches away from yours. he slipped two fingers into your cunt, savoring the way you clenched and whimpered. he brought his face down to kiss your neck as he fingered you.

he almost came on the spot when you moaned his name, the syllables sounding so sweet when it came from your mouth.

enji pulled his fingers from you, and you pouted from the loss, but he ignored your pouts as he pulled his cock out and positioned it near your entrance, the swollen tip pushing into you.

his length was almost too much to handle, and his cock was thick and veiny. every ridge made you squirm as he slid into you.

once he was inside of you, he started fucking into you hard, pushing his cock all the way in with every stroke. his balls meeting your ass to create a lewd slapping sound.

he met your eyes to savor the faces you made, looking down to watch the way your tits bounced as he fucked you when he saw natsuo’s initial on your chest.

he reacted before he could think, his strong hand coming up to grab the necklace, the muscles in his arm flexing as he ripped it off of you, the chain shattering under his grip. he threw it across the room and kissed you, trying to stake his claim.

you felt your first wave of guilt, but you were distracted almost immediately by the flame hero circling your clit with his thumb.

you moaned out, and he smiled at you.

you were both approaching climax, and he knew it. he was determined to make you cum first, he grabbed your legs and spread them and held them up, your ankles hooking around your head as he pistoned in and out of your cunt.

your back began to arch, and enji brought a hand down to play with your clit again.

“hnghh, enji! fuck!” you screamed as you came around his cock, your fluids coating the base of his cock.

your squeezing brought him over the edge as well, cumming right next to your womb, continuing to thrust as you both rode out your highs.

he pulled out slowly, taking care not to hurt you as his cock began to soften. he pet your head. pushing loose strands of hair out of your face.

“are you okay?” he asked

“yeah, thank you.” you replied.

“let’s get you cleaned up. can you stand?”

you flushed again, “no, p-probably not…”

enji smiled, picking you up bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom.

~

unbeknownst to either of you, your phone was blowing up with notifications on the coffee table. they read:

natsuo ❤️: i found my jacket babe. sorry! you can come back.

natsuo ❤️: babe? are you okay? i said i found my jacket.

natsuo ❤️: ??? what are you doing?

natsuo ❤️: please reply

missed call from “natsuo ❤️”

missed call from “natsuo ❤️”

missed call from “natsuo ❤️”

~

[radabeast]

Why Aren't The Hornsent NPCs Named? An Essay On The Challenge for Compassion

So easy answer. Neither our pal in the Miquella Brigade nor the Grandam actually tell their names to us. Case closed!

No no no but more like, why didn't the DEVELOPERS choose to let us know them by name? A whole chunk of The Point is that the hornsent are people too, right? So why would we not even get to know our two (mostly just one, even, as you're not likely to even find grandam) hornsent ambassadors' actual names?

Fromsoft did something similar to this in Armored Core 6 just recently. That game is PLAINLY all about the horrors of capitalism, colonization and war, albeit almost all of your time is spent not with the resistance, but with the companies trying to tear the planet apart for fuel. Your protag's motivations aside, the RLF, Rubicon Liberation Front, are hardly given any narrative ambassadors to you at all; your Rubiconian partner pleads with your on some occasions, but otherwise the emphasis is elsewhere. Their liaison with their organization isn't even named. You don't even get to MEET most of their ranks until the secret third route, and even then, half the time that's just when you're fighting against said individuals as opponents. So...

Fromsoft is unique in that they often don't spoon-feed you "this is right" and "this is wrong". By no means do they ever seem to say colonization and slaughter is correct, and in fact the very crux of the plot is in grappling with the justifications. BUT, you are placed directly in the role of the oppressors' side. All around you are people you will grow to respect, and fight alongside, and they will also help you tear down this planet if you choose that route. You do, very much so, have to FIGHT and CHOOSE to aid the people of Rubicon, even if it hurts. Even if it means fighting, abandoning and even killing the people who have been by your side. And I think that's much more realistic to many real-life experiences than just "starting out on the right side".

Back to Elden RIng and the hornsent, though. Grandam is found only under very specific circumstances, within a single location, and within a small time window of the game. You step out of that window? You lose her completely, including the lore she had, and the means with which to understand better the hornsent. Why? Why would Fromsoft even implement her, if it's that hard to even reach her words?

And again, I think it's... realistic. You, the Tarnished, are a human along Marika's progeny, barring your own personal character lore. You are a human and you are part of the race that had slaughtered the hornsent. Of COURSE the hornsent themselves aren't going to trust you, spoonfeed you WHY you should care about them. Shouldn't you care already about the pain and suffering of others? Why WOULDN'T you? If it's that hard to come to grips with the horrors Your Kind caused, then maybe you're no better.

And I think. The story wants to challenge you like that, past gameplay, past feeding you their intent directly. You have to SEEK OUT the answers and THINK. Is it truly justified to slaughter a whole race? Was this truly right? Should I think of these individuals as people, or as monsters?

Hornsent (NPC) is also a very interesting choice. Not only is he the only hornsent you're actually likely to find and speak with, but he actively hates your guts. Soon as the charm is off, even, he's back on his path of vengeance. He says time and time again, he's nothing more than this mission to Get Back on those responsible. Wouldn't the devs want to make you weep for someone far more pitiable, far more palatable?

Well, if you bother paying attention to him enough, and aid the man in his questline, you'll understand then that he's someone who lost his whole family to Messmer's crusades. Mother, wife, child, in addition of course to the innumerable others slaughtered. Is that not enough to want all-consuming vengeance? Wouldn't YOU want people dead because of that? Regardless, even, of whether or not he was even a perpetrator of the original jar slaughters (and I've seen enough feasible evidence against that)... Is he not pitiable enough for that alone?

To you, he is just a Hornsent. To he himself, the man is a Hornsent, likely a title he wears both in defiance, as well as the only scrap of identity he has left. His people were killed because they were Hornsent. His family was killed because they were Hornsent. Would you even ever see him as anything else? Would it matter, even, if he HIMSELF has nothing else?

And, clearly, if you've been seeing anything anywhere in the fan discussions: this challenge to Think is lost on many people. Some people, somewhat understandably, take these aspects as Fromsoft caring little about the hornsent at all, and claiming them as The Original Evils within their own story. Others don't even bother to take anything not fed to them, and claim that the slaughter of hornsent was duly justified, and that this is undeniably supported within the game. But even barring the consistent themes of dichotomies, dualities, and the cycles of abuse ever-present throughout the game-- yeah, I'd say a good deal of reflection could and should be found in the self, first. Who are YOU when challenged for this compassion, first?

[thechaoticdruid]

°•IF THE BG3 COMPANIONS BABYSAT YOUR KIDS!•°

Lae'zel

Congratulations your children are spending an afternoon at boot camp!

You can rest assured they will be treated fairly at least.

No favoritism going on here.

Anyone who misbehaves shall be sent to solidarity confinement and left there until....Idk

If they want a snack they WILL have to fight one another in a duel to the death.

Or at least until one of them falls down and cries.

To the winner go the cookies.

Or more accurately maybe some giant space hamster jerky.

Karlach

This is assuming her engine has been fixed, naturally.

The kids absolutely love Auntie K.

Legit can carry them all on her shoulders at once.

She gives the best hugs too and is always so nice and warm.

She is up to play any games with them! Especially ones where she pretends to be a monster and chases them around.

Very protective of the little ones.

Brings them new stuffies each time she visits.

You MUST remind her constantly to watch her language around the little ones!

Gale

Arrives via magic portal.

Brings Tara to help him.

Takes it very personally if one of the children don't like him.

Tries to impress them via magic and creates a magical illusion to entertain the kiddos.

Attempts to teach them everything he knows about the weave.

Takes it very hard if the children fall asleep during his lecture.

Must be consoled by Tara.

If any take an interest in the weave they immediately become his favorite.

You'll probably end up coming home to your home appliances floating or having some kind of enchantment on them.

Halsin

Yes he turns into a bear and lets them ride on his back.

Most time is spent outside enjoying nature and all of its beauty.

Will carry the littlest one on his shoulders at all times.

Always brings healthy snacks, mostly fruit like apple slices.

Proceeds to take them to a nearby pond to feed the ducks.

Widdles them little animal figures to play with.

No TV or video games. The thought of technology taking over their lives makes him sick.

We play outside or we don't play at all.

Doesn't mind them grabbing at his ears, if they can even reach them that is!

He has to remind one of them multiple times that he unfortunately cannot turn into a dragon.

Sad sad truth.

Shadowheart

Makes cute little flower crowns with them.

Helps the little ones feel better if any of them are afraid of the dark.

Is very good at comforting them.

Possibly might be one of the older one's first goth girl crush.

Badmouths Lae'zel in front of them shamelessly.

Always puts on a tim Burton movie or something for them to watch.

Definitely the reason for any of their emo phases.

They think she's really cool though.

Wyll

Always the first to volunteer to babysit.

Man has the patience of a saint and can handle even the most unruly of children.

Always talks them up and is very careful to never put them down.

Tells them all kinds of exciting stories of his time as the Blade.

Makes sure to adjust them to be suitable for the kiddos.

Leaves out the scary parts.

If any of them are mean to one another and can't get along he's the type to make them each say something nice about the other as a punishment.

Let's them play with toy swords and teaches them a thing or two about using them.

Never raises his voice at them. Is super calm and collected.

Loves them all to pieces!

Also may or may not take them out to get ice cream if they're good.

Astarion

Assuming this is Spawnstarion we're talking about because the vampire Ascendant would just laugh in your face if you asked him then slam the door on you.

Our sweet little spawn will also likely laugh and think you're joking at first.

"You seriously want a vampire to watch over your children?"

Assuming you pay him and be sure to give him big sweet puppy dog eyes he may consider it.

This man is a very not my child not my problem kind of guy.

Gets annoyed with all the children asking tedious vampire questions and responds with very sarcastic answers.

Does not approve of them wanting to touch his ears.

Agrees to let them see his fangs in hopes to scare them (the mischievous little shit).

The children instead think they're cool, which confuses him. He really isn't sure how to feel about it.

Threatens to eat them if they get on his nerves.

Spends most of the time on the sofa, boredly reading a magazine or watching television.

Miraculously takes a shine to one of the younger girls who call him pretty and compliments his clothes and hair.

This is also given the girl is a little mischief gremlin who pulls pranks on her older siblings.

He lets her paint his nails purple or red while she gossips about her mother/father's new partner or her siblings.

Unapologetically shows her favoritism and lets her sit on his lap and watch TV with him.

Will not bat an eye if the other children run a muck and destroy shit.

Legit just keeps watching TV. Probably some drama filled 'reality' show.

He actually finds the chaos caused by the children quite amusing.

One of the children somehow ends up on the roof.

Once the parents are home and it's time to leave. The youngest girl gives him a hug.

His eyes get all big and round and almost threaten to tear up.

Astarion is not asked to babysit again.

Sorry some of them are so short, I mostly write for Astarion so I'm not very confident at doing the other characters.

Hope you like it though!

[hina-hina]

Would you do Ghost agreeing to get a dog “just for protection” and at first refusing to spoil the dog but caving and allowing his partner to put sweaters on it and let it sleep in the bed (despite grumbling about it)?

Hello friend!! This was so cute of a request, especially because I headcanon that Ghost is a dog person ♪(^∇^*) Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy!!

|| Ghost Buying a Guard Dog and Reader Spoiling It ||

Warnings: None

Gender-Neutral!Reader // Romantic

This one kinda goes in hand with my headcanon from yesterday

So, he is super protective and hates leaving you alone because he fears something might happen to you while he is at work

So, he gets a guard dog

A 100% purebred German Shepherd

Lowkey because the dog reminds him of Riley

He purchases the dog already trained to protect you and teaches you all the proper commands

But your only half paying attention bc omg puppy

Your immediately researching the best meals for his breed and the best toys on the market

And while your ordering his special treats and toys, you happen to see a sweater that says "mama's boy" in his size

And it immediately goes into your cart

Without Simon's knowledge, of course

So, when he goes on deployment he feels a little better leaving because he knows you'll be protected

So, when he comes back and he sees that the fearsome guard dog he had bought you was now wearing a sweater that said "mama's boy" he is bewildered

He goes about scolding you but your only defense is over-the-top pouts and "he's so cute though!!"

When the two of you go to bed that night and the dog jumps into bed with you, Ghost goes to scold him and set him off the bed

But you wrap your arms around the dog and claim that he always sleeps in the bed while he is gone

Ghost is exasperated

He, very reluctantly, allows the dog to sleep in the bed and grimaces to himself when it shoves its way between the two of you on the bed

He furiously denies cuddling into the dog in the morning

You took a picture of it and hold it as blackmail

However, have no doubt that the dog is still (if not more) protective of you and willing to fight tooth and nail for you

When you tell Ghost about how this guy had started getting too pushy with you while you were out walking him

The dog immediately started growling and pushing itself between you and the man until he backed off

This resulted in Ghost slipping him a bit of table scraps, a pat on the nose, and a "Good dog."

Thanks for reading!!

[astroboots]

Superhuman stamina

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: The dangers of dating a man with superhuman stamina is that it's going to leave you sore.

Content: Miguel is a demanding menace. Overstimulation. Multiple orgasm. Squirting.

Word Count: 1.4k

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

The thing about dating a man that has been genetically imprinted with the DNA of a spider is that one of the side-effects of such an occurrence means he has superhuman stamina.

It's something Miguel had told you in the early days of your relationship, listing out this characteristic as just another facet of his personality, much in the way someone would say that they're a Virgo on their Tinder profile.

You hadn't thought much of it at the time, too distracted by the list of characteristics that preceded it: retractable talons? telescopic night vision? ORGANIC WEBBING?!

In retrospect, that was naïve. The talons don't really affect your day to day. They do come out when Miguel's emotional state is particularly elevated, which has lead to incidents. Like that time you had to replace your new purchased armchair, when you were on top and post-sex your new armchair looked like it had been mauled by an escaped zoo lion.

The telescopic night vision? Incredibly convenient at night when there's a blackout and you need to find your cell phone.

And the webbing... the less said about that the better, really.

But now that you've dated as long as you have, the superhuman stamina, you realize is by far the one that has the most profound consequences on your life.

At the time you hadn't realized that those enhanced attributes weren't limited to aerial battles against the latest villain of the week when he was fighting mutant lizards, or rhino men. It also haunts you in the privacy of your bedroom.

Because this is what happens when you date a man with superhuman stamina: You'll often oversleep and barely make it on time to work. On most days you've lost your voice. You'll be sore a lot.

And the thing about dating Miguel specifically is that the man is stubborn, relentless, demanding and that too extends into your bedroom.

"Fuck, Miguel, I can't."

"'Course you can, nena, look at how well you're taking me," he says as he stares down at the space between your legs where you and him join. Where you're spread snugly around him. Where his thick cock, slick with you both, disappears into your cunt then re-emerges.

It's wet. It's messy, the sheets beneath you soaked and sticky, from the last three (four?) rounds. As snug of a fit his thick cock is inside you, he's filled you so full there's no space left for you to fit what he's spilled inside you, over and over again. It keep leaking out with each press and demanding thrust as he buries his cock inside you as deep as he goes.

You shake your head even though you know it's useless. Pleading with him has never gotten you anywhere before. You don't know why you think it's going to make a difference now.

"Please, I-I can't-- nngh, too much," you plead. You whine. You sob.

"Shh, nena, it's okay," he hushes. Again with the cooing. Again with the sweet little nicknames, but he's not showing mercy, his hand moving down from your hip, down between your legs, until his thumb presses down on your clit.

Electricity crackles through the length of your spine. Your back arches, lifting off the bed, you don't know if you are chasing into his touch or running away from it: the first? latter? both? neither.

You can't form a coherent thought anymore. It's good and too much, and your brain is short-circuiting from it all.

"There you go, see? Doing so good. Look how pretty you are taking me."

Even in the dim light of your bedroom, you can see his expression clearly. Eyes a piercing crimson red, the corners of his canine teeth peeking out from his self-satisfied smile.

He bends down, nearly folding you in half as he presses his cock as deep as it goes, until he's nudging at that sweet and perfect spot that has your vision go white and blinding behind your eyes.

Sweet, sharp ache scrapes close to your bones at the sensation of him filling you again. The way he stretches you to your limits, until you've forgotten how to breathe, and may very well be the death of you.

It's there again. The oppressive warmth that swirls sweetly in your stomach as a warning. Tears prickle your eyes as everything in you squeezes tight at the sensation.

Oh shit, it's--

"Fuck that's it nena. That's it. Come on my cock again. Come on it and I'll fill you up."

It rises in you. A pressure that builds and builds and builds, and robs you of your breath until you have nothing left to give. It's overwhelming, the way the pleasure burns at every one of your nerve endings, until your face tingles with a numbness and you can no longer feel your legs.

"Mi-Miguel," you stutter, "I can't--"

"Yes you can."

The pressure is still there, expanding with an ominous volume, and no, he's wrong. You can't. Something is different. This isn't like before. You squirm underneath him, feet planted against the mattress for leverage.

"Settle down," he says, but you don't know how you're supposed to do that when your entire body has been wounded so tight you think the whole of you are going to snap.

You shake your head frantically, sobbing with a raw burn in your throat as you thrash underneath him, trying to escape the overwhelming sensation. Oh fuck-- it's too much.

Oh god, you can't-you can't-you can't--

You raise your palms against his firm chest, pressing back, in a half-formed attempt to make him ease up, but it only spurs him on. One arm loops behind your back, lifting you from the mattress to meet his hips as he snaps them into you. And oh fuck!

It hits something devastating inside. A pin prick of pleasure that strikes every nerve in your body. It hits a frequency that makes your teeth shatter, every cell in your skull vibrate. Your leg kicks out, body twisting and turning to get away from the overwhelming sensation.

"Callate," you hear his warm strained breath in your ear.

His free hand locks around your wrists, pinning them to the side, then he's lunging forward, his mouth pressed to your shoulders and you can feel the sharp warning of his fangs resting on your skin. "Calm down, or I'm gonna bite you."

You still, shivering as his hips pulls back, then he hits that devastating spot again and again.

Every muscle in you locks up tight until you can't move and for a moment you wonder if he really did bite down. But you can still feel his mouth on your throat, his tongue lapping gently at your sweat-soaked skin until the whole of your neck tingles.

He doesn't go easy on you, thrusting into you with the same demanding pace as before, and God. The sensation is heavy and ominous like nothing else you've felt before. Large and looming with nowhere else to go, and there's nothing you can do to prevent it, and you know that if this doesn't stop, if Miguel doesn't stop, then all of you are going to burst.

You open your mouth, trying to warn him, but all that comes out is the first syllable.

"Miii--" The rest dies in a wail, and you realize it's already too late. The pressure shatters and breaks.

You come with a rush of wetness that spills out of you. It soaks everything, your thighs and his, drenching his stomach and drips down against the sheets to join the mess that's already there.

Everything sounds distant like you're pulled under water. You can barely even register Miguel's voice in your ear. "Oh shit, are you-- fuck, that's --"

He sounds surprised. But he doesn't stop. Miguel fucks you through it. Your climax and his, with frantic thrusts, until finally he settles into a slow and gentler pace.

When you come back to yourself, he's kneeling above you, his large bodyframe looming over yours.

"Fuck, babe..."

He palms at his softening cock, glistening wet with your mess as he stares down at you with darkened eyes. Slowly jerking the length of it with a lazy pace that has you mesmerized. It twitches in his grip with interest, and you know it's not going to take long before he's ready to go again.

"One more time," Miguel says. "Let's see if we can make you do it again."

Jesus fucking Christ

Your head drops down to your pillow with exhaustion.

The thing about dating a man with superhuman stamina is that it may very well kill you.

Dedication & Credits: To my beloved @thirstworldproblemss who I hope is driving safely across the country through the mountains I love youuuuuuuuuuuuuu.

And to poor @guruan who I woke up with my other fic and robbed her of her beauty sleep.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

[i-cant-sing]

I'm not sure what I want to write about but I have this very overwhelmingly strong urge to write about Platonic Yandere Gojo Saturo x teen/adult reader. And not like just light fluff, I'm talking about unhinged yandere Gojo- the one from the latest panels where he was fighting with Sukuna- that Gojo.

Like that Gojo just radiates "buffed up cool dad finally puts his foot down and is now actually low key scary".

Hmm, I mean I could see unhinged Shibuya arc Gojo just going absolutely feral as he drags you away from Toji (your dad) and begins to actively kill him, no matter how much you beg and grovel to spare your father's life. How you can't bare to see your dad taken from you again.

But Gojo? Nah, he doesn't care. He was serious when he took you in (kidnapped u from Naoya/Zenin Clan) and told u that he'll be the father you need.

And he doesn't even have any qualms about knocking you out either, he doesn't need u interfering mid battle and getting injured in the process. He might even hand u over to Yuta and others and cheerfully threaten them to keep you safe while he obliterates Toji, because yes Gojo is 100000% jealous of Toji and you bonding/being closer to each other than u are with Gojo. How fucing dare you??? Does he need to do the speech again?

"Through heavens and earth, I alone am tge honored one" or whatever 🙄🙄🙄

OR OR OR

Listen to me- Romantic yandere UNHINGED Gojo with reader who'd been selected by his clan, trained and raised by them for you to be Gojo's bride. Obviously, growing up Gojo was like "yeahhh, you're not good enough for me" and well treated her like absolute trash (he insulted her) which them lead the clan to be even more harsh on you because why the hell are you still not able to seduce Gojo????? So, basically poor reader is just being absolutely miserable throughout her life until one day the Gojo Clan is finally like "Alright, we gave it our best and Saturo still doesn't like u, so you can work as a maid in our house" and like instantaneously her life turns much better now that she doesn't have the pressure to be the trophy wife/heir producer for Gojo, and reader now can even leave the house to run errands.

But then Gojo notices that there is one less person who was constantly fawning over him, vying for his attention, and he's trying to figure it out who it is when he realises its you! And when he asks his clan about you, they tell him that they demoted u to a servant instead of future Mrs Gojo and Saturo is like "hm. Okay." And it doesn't exactly hit him how much this affected him until he saw you giggling away with some man.

He doesn't react immeadiately, still treating you like you're just nonexistent to him, but deep down, it eats him up the way you were touching that man's arm, the way you looked at him like he hung the stars for you.

Why tf weren't you like this with him?

Whatever. You're just... so beneath him. Why even bother thinking about you?

And then Shibuya arc happens. This man gets trapped in the prison realm and most of his thoughts are occupied by you, and how after be defeats Sukuna and the gang, he's gonna date you and you'll be touching his arm, looking at him with goo goo eyes.

Except when he comes out, for whatever fucking reason, you're fucking clinging onto some guys shoulders, acting like you're a damsel in distress, and if things weren't worse before, they certainly were when you kissed the man in front of him (okay but like u didn't know Gojo was watching u two. Like you were with your man in alley, kissing and hugging each ither lovingly after just barely escaping death from curses and then mf Gojo is just hovering in the sky above you)

Of course, now it's instantaneous death for your man, and then Gojo is just dragging you screaming and crying, and you're like "WHY? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME??" And Gojo very cheerfully tells you, as if he still wasn't covered in blood from your man-

"I don't want my wife-to-be cheating on me."

Like whoa! Where tf did that came from???? And you're all like "What are u talking about??? Your clan ended our relationship- if you could even call it that?? Besides, you're the one who always said that we're not compatible because I'm beneath you."

And Gojo doesn't even bat an eye, as he goes "doesn't matter. You were born for me. You were made for me to marry, play with, discard, do as I please. So don't you ever even look at another man again, or I will be the one to rip your eyes out." And you know that he's capable of doing that after u just witnessed the live demonstration of your man being murdered.

Anyways, jealous Gojo, be it romantic or platonic, is dangerous unhinged Gojo.

Look at him, the tiny waist, the Toji Fushiguro fit.