#he is absolutely causing mayhem looking for his person

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 126

Danny did not mean to kidnap beast boy. Cujo dragged him through a natural portal. And well. He panicked grabbed the first green dog he saw and rushed back through before it closed.

Now he was in his bedroom trying to figure out which dimension beast boy came from. All while avoiding his parents. They threaten to dissect him. Who knows what they’d do to this guy.

[unluckiestmember]

YAY, YOU'RE BACK TO WRITING FOR ARCANE. How would the arcane characters react (mainly vi, ekko, and jinx because i would marry, marry, and marry them all!!) to a reader who is sooo affectionate and finds every last thing they do so cute they get cuteness aggression and just jump at them like a cuddle bug often? thank you so much!!

Coming right up!

Arcane x Cuddle Bug! Reader

Characters: Powder/Jinx, Violet "Vi", Ekko, Caitlyn Kiramman, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Mel Medarda, Sevika and Ran.

Warning: None really. SFW.

A/N: Am I the only one who wants to snuggle into Caitlyn? Ugh, I love her so much.

Powder/Jinx

“Oh! Hey there, sugar! You want to cuddle? Don’t have to ask me twice! I’ll cuddle you so much that you get tired of me! But you’d never get tired of me, right?”

Jinx is a super clingy person, so for you to be as clingy as her it’s like you two are a match made in heaven. There’s barely any time that passes when you two are not touching each other and she lives for your cuddles. It doesn’t matter if you hug her out of nowhere or she sees you about to embrace her, she is stopping everything she is doing and pulling you into the tightest of hugs.

Most of the time if she isn’t causing mayhem in the streets of Zaun or busy with her inventions, she will spend her time just holding you so close and showering your face with the cutest but most childish of kisses. She doesn’t care if it’s in private or public, she will make it known that you two can’t keep your hands off each other. You are her cuddlebug and she is yours and that won’t ever change.

Violet “Vi”

“Woah there, cuddle bug! You’re gonna make me screw up my workout… Oh forget it. How can I say no to you?”

Because Violet is absolutely touch starved, she will never decline your cuddles, even if you take her by surprise a few times with how you hug her so suddenly. She finds it adorable how you fangirl around her and find everything she does to be awesome or cute. Granted she does wish you’d call her hot or sexy, but knows that isn’t really in tune with your personality.

Regardless, she tries to make sure you know how adorable you are, always telling you while you two are cuddled up together how lucky she is to have you and how you are so adorable. Even when you visit her at work, she’ll try to drop everything and have you run into her arms to pick you up. And every time she’s got time off work or is coming back from a job, she’s automatically looking for you so she could hook you in her arms and never let go.

Ekko

“Y/N, haha! You know we gotta keep this private, babe- The kids are gonna pounce on us any second now!”

Does Ekko love hugging you? Absolutely. The warmth of your arms around his body makes him stop everything he’s doing and just hug you while calling you his firelight or firefly. Unless he’s calling you an angel or lovebug, which never fails to make Scar either look at you two in awe or roll their eyes in mock annoyance. Unfortunately, Ekko does try his best to make sure you two don’t get super affectionate around the children, especially when it comes to hugs.

Why? Because as soon as you hug him, the children find this as an invitation to gather around him and have him nearly die under a cuteness overload of a group hug. It’s nice as a once in a while occurrence, but all the time? Maybe not. Outside of the reactions you two garnish and even the teasing of you being the firelight king/queen, Ekko lives for your cuddlebug energy, wanting to be in your arms after a long day’s work. It’s always the best way to end the night… 

Caitlyn Kiramman

“And that’s why if I am able to block this end of the road, I’ll- Oh!... Oh come here, sweetheart. If you wanted to cuddle so badly, you could’ve asked.”

Caitlyn has always been someone who was more subtle with her love, pulling you into brief kisses, cupping your cheek and holding you by your waist. She usually leaves the more out there gestures like hugging and cuddling for you to initiate. But when you do? It might be harder for you to get her off of you instead of the other way around. It can be at work, in her home, outside of work or at an event. As soon as she feels your arms wrap around her slender body, she’s stopping for a second to hold you back and kiss your forehead.

She will continue working if you interrupt her during a briefing or in the middle of cracking a case, but the entire time, she will have at least one arm around your body and make sure you are comfortable. Her comrades tease her about it and she’ll scowl a bit, but she doesn’t care. As far as she can tell, she’s extremely lucky to have you as a lover.

Viktor

“Ah! Oh, it is just you, zolotse. Remember, you have to warn me of these cute little hugs of yours.”

At first, Viktor wasn’t used to your physical affection and how you were in awe of everything he did. He actually thought you were mocking him at first or being silly. But after a while, especially when the two of you became a couple, he grew accustomed to your affections. He does get a bit startled when you hug him out of nowhere and he does have moments where you cheering him on does make him a bit bashful, but he enjoys your sweet gestures regardless.

He does find it difficult to be as outgoing with his love for you as you are with him, but he does try his best to make you realize he loves you, especially in the form of quality time and calling you by sweet pet names bound to make you blush. Viktor has a tendency to pass out from working too hard and waking up in your arms. And though he’d never say it out loud, you know based on the way he snuggles into you, he adores it and adores you.

Jayce Talis

“I know what you want and I want it too- So bring it in! I’ve waited all day to be in your arms!”

Because Jayce is always out at work, it’s kind of hard for you two to be around one another all the time. That’s why when he does reunite with you after hours or you two can be together on days off, he’s spending the majority of his free time with you or wrapped around you. He sort of craves for your praise and compliments as much as he craves your cuddles.

Many would compare the councilman to a needy dog wanting his owner’s undivided attention and he definitely gets that through you. Though he may try to act all cool or play coy, everyone knows that you mean so much to him and that he becomes putty around you. Even if they don’t, you’re not afraid to say it aloud. Just make sure Jayce isn’t around or that man will become redder than a beet.

Mel Medarda

“What’s wrong?... I know that look. You want to- Ah! Well looks like you beat me to the punch, darling. How about we take this to the bed, hmm?”

Mel wasn’t really given physical affection when she was younger. She was more someone who preferred verbal affection with words of affirmation. So when it came to you and how affectionate you are, she found herself adapting and loving physical affection as much as telling you how much she loved you.

Your cuddles and sweet gestures are her personal heaven she loves returning to after a long day’s work, especially if she can spend an evening with you platonically in your shared bed. In your arms, she feels she can air out anything that’s bothering her or interests her, especially when you admit how cute it is when she does. Though this kind of intimate affection is delegated to private quarters, anyone can know from the way Mel speaks of you outside of home and at events that you mean so much to her.

Sevika

“Yeah! So then I was like screw you, I can do whatever- Hold on. Uh, Y/N. I thought we agreed to not do this at work?”

Sevika is considered the Right Hand of Zaun, a woman who is feared if not respected by her peers. And she’d like to keep it that way. Which means that while you two are at work, she prefers it if you don’t cuddle her around co-workers and give them something to tease her about. You two can only flirt and kiss and even then, it has to be sexy…

But alone, when both of you are away from the public eye, Sevika is at your beck and call wishing for nothing else but to hear your sweet praises and melt into your arms and touch. Expect her to call you the cutest thing ever and tease you on occasion, but afterwards she’s basically a big needy cat, or as she prefers to be called, a panther. It’s moments like these where you can really consider yourself lucky to see a raw side of Sevika. And it was only preserved for you.

If you got any requests for Arcane or X-Men '97, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[hoshinasblade]

Can I hear your thoughts on calling Soshiro the wrong name? Like when I first got into the kn8 fandom, I could never get Soshiro's name right. It's always "Seishiro" as in Nagi Seishiro from Blue Lock 💔. I wonder what his reaction would be to hear his partner calling him a diff guy's name 🤔

this ask has the potential to cause so much mayhem anon, thank you for sending through

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader content warnings: none, just a bit suggestive at the end, established relationship this is super short, but hopefully you like it! my ask is open again for requests but be warned that replies will be delayed. it takes time for me to write, and if i dont immediately vibe with the prompt, that makes it harder for me. i will always reply though because there is not a lot of hoshina stuff around here and i value people's ideas. thank you guys for understanding!

being hoshina soshiro's girlfriend has a lot of perks.

first of all, you had never felt safer anywhere you go when he is accompanying you - it's not that you treat him as your personal body guard, but he cannot help to act like one, always on the lookout to protect you. more than everything, nothing beats knowing the simple fact that you are dating an ultra-handsome killing machine who treats you like a princess.

the thing is, being hoshina soshiro's girlfriend also has some downside.

the worst of all is because the vice-captain is famous, it cannot be helped that women and a few men are all over him, competing for a crumb of his attention.

your smile disappeared when you saw another video from the social media influencer you mentioned to hoshina last week. it was a short edited footage of the vice-captain's brief interview after the most recent kaiju attack - his hair wet from perspiration, his long fingers trying to brush his bangs away from his eyes. how hoshina can still look ravishing after killing kaijus is a mystery for you as well - no one should be allowed to be that hot, you thought. "hoshina, date me," the caption reads in an annoying cursive font. you were going to scroll away when you noticed your own boyfriend's personal account among the few thousands who liked the clip - the icon of his profile is at the top of the list. you closed the app, formulating a plan to exact a cruel vengeance against hoshina.

the chance came that same night when hoshina dropped by your apartment for dinner. the entire week is for saving the country, hoshina would tell you, but weekends are always dedicated to movie marathons and cuddling until one of you falls asleep.

"what's the theme for tonight? any preferences?" hoshina asked, pressing buttons in the remote control as he goes over the directory of tv series and chick flicks. "i'm thinking something scary."

"you know if you are looking for a reason to snuggle with me, you can literally just say that, soichiro." there was no change in your tone as you delivered the line, biting the insides of your cheek so you won't burst out laughing. keeping a straight face was not that difficult because hoshina seemed to ignore you.

"the conjuring, then." hoshina sat beside you in the couch after choosing a title, his right arm going around your waist as he leans into you.

you rested your head on his shoulder a bit and inhaled lightly the scent of his shirt. "you smell nice, soichiro."

hoshina's arm dropped faster than you would have expected, and when you glanced at him, you wondered if you had taken this game a bit too far.

"right, what did i do this time?" hoshina did not bothering the show playing in the television, the opening credits rolling in the screen.

"what do you mean?" your words were hurried because you feel you were going to explode in giggles. it is absolutely funny how the most skilled close-quarters combatant of the defense force can react so strongly to being called a different name.

"come on, you calling me by my brother's name is infuriating enough already. you doing it again is just hurting my feelings now. you're never mean without a reason. what is this about?" hoshina's face is earnest now and admittedly, you felt a tiny tinge of guilt.

you sighed. "i don't know, maybe your fans wouldn't be calling you the wrong name. you should date them instead." it came out of your mouth too bitter, but you could not take your statement back. trust has never been an issue between you and hoshina in the years you were together, but you don't suppose it is wholly your fault when you get affected by little things like this.

"if i wanted to, i would," hoshina answered calmly. "but obviously, i don't. because here i am, proposing we watch something scary so you could snuggle with me."

you chuckled and that finally eased the tension. "i'm sorry. i did not mean to ruin our night," you confessed. "i swear to pretend i'm scared of the ghost in the movie so i can cuddle closer to you."

hoshina's eyes carry a certain sparkle whenever he smiles. he leaned on you again then grabbing your hand, linked your fingers together.

"hey, you can always talk to me if something's bothering you, you know that, right? and i'll always try to do better by you," he said before kissing you.

you and your boyfriend never finished the movie but at least by the end of the night, hoshina had made sure you call him by no one else's name by making you moan his.

[lueurjun]

slytherin boyfriend sunghoon

request: Hi, Can i request a Slytherin Sunghoon x a Ravenclaw reader? Thankss <3 — you certainly can. hope this is alright for you my love. you didn’t specify a trope so i just improvised, i hope that’s okay<3 slytherin bf!sunghoon x ravenclaw!reader. @vickys-witchylife

ps. i apologize for how long this is… i got carried away- no but really this is really long like i didn’t intend on this but it just happened 💀

everybody pause because this makes so much sense

like sunghoon gives off major slytherin vibes

remember his blonde hair? draco malfoy could neverrr

and could you imagine him decked out in green and silver?

lord have mercy im about to faint

anyways before we get into the whole you guys love each other, cutesey vibes

let’s start with how it all came to be

how my man sunghoon managed to pulled YOU

yeah he’s fine but i have 3 galleons in the bank so #rollinindough #icanbeabetterboyfriendthanhim

now we’re not gonna go down the route of ‘all slytherins are bad’ because they’re absolutely not

but sunghoon wasn’t exactly the warmest at first

bro is not 🙅‍♀️ the sun

not in the sense that he bullied you or anything

me and the homies would jump him if he did… the homies being my demons 👹

he just didn’t see the point in befriending you because naturally the two of you were so different

you were just the ravenclaw smarty he was forced to do his prefect duties with

ravenclaw smarty 🤓 my delulu self would be flattered because to me that’s a nickname- you’re half way to marriage already

ah yes you read that right

prefect duties

more specifically: hallway patrol

paw patrol, paw patrol, we’ll be there on the double 💃

so the two of you spent the majority of your evenings together

being a prefect wasn’t a huge deal to sunghoon, it was just another gateway to his parents approval

not him thinking he’s too cool 😎

but you took your role very seriously and that was something that annoyed him about you

because you never allowed him to slack off

him slacking off could get you both in trouble and you weren’t going to let him take you down with him and potentially jeopardise your chance of snatching up the head ( whatever you identify as bae ) position

just because he didn’t want to be head boy didn’t mean you didn’t desire the position

needless to say it was a little frosty between the two of you at first

aimless bickering would echo off the walls as you demanded he stay on task and not stray off to go cause mayhem with his friends

personally i would take on all of his duties just so he could have fun- DON’T look at me like that, you’d be a pick me for him too smh

he wasn’t just put off by the fact that you ruined his fun and actually made him do his job

you’re a ravenclaw, one of the smartest people in your year and naturally, he assumed you wouldn’t want to be friends with someone like him

not bro having a victim complex

but that wasn’t the case at all

you weren’t one to judge, you didn’t care about houses, the only thing that mattered to you was principles

in fact, you were actually looking forward to befriending sunghoon at first

he just pushed you away all too soon and started acting like a rebellious idiot for the sake of his ego

what an idiot

things remained at a stalemate for several weeks

you’d both show up for your perfect duties, he would try to slack off or cause trouble, and you would scold him until the two of you walked side by side in silence

him sulking and you scowling

then, he’d stomp back to his dorm and talk crap about you to his friends

and you’d go to your own friends and express disappointment in the lack of progress made with him

don’t worry bae, you don’t need him. come put your head on my shoulder, mines comfier than his 🤭

things didn’t take a turn until a week before the winter holidays

one evening, sunghoon was over an hour late for prefect duties

you tried not to worry because why should you care? Without him, things would probably be much easier

but alas, something niggled inside of your heart and you found yourself abandoning your responsibilities to find him

you searched high and low, but to no avail. sunghoon was absolutely nowhere to be found

hide and seek in hogwarts is wild

eventually, you headed down to the slytherin common room—perhaps he hadn’t even left his dorm

but when you arrived, a crowd of people stood outside of the door whispering rather loudly

“how do we get him out of there?”

“i don’t know but he can’t afford to step another toe out of line, you heard his dad. one more detention and he’s being yanked out of the school.”

as you cautiously peered around the corner, your eyes settle on a distinctive group you recognize all too well — sunghoon's friends

they remained oblivious to your presence until you muster up your courage and break away from the shadows, facing them head-on

“where’s sunghoon?”

that’s right, you show ‘em who’s boss! hellos and how are yous? never heard of them 💅

“what’s it to you?”

jay fixed his gaze on you, analyzing you with careful scrutiny

“he hasn’t shown up for prefect duties.”

you square your shoulders and cross your arms, exuding an air of forced confidence

not that you were scared, they were hardly anything to fear. it was more the embarrassment of admitting that you were concerned for the safety of sunghoon

‘hardly anything to fear’ NOT YOU VIOLATING UNPROVOKED

lord knows that if it was you who hadn’t turned up, sunghoon would have most definitely thrown a party

this time, heeseung breaks the silence with a deep and weary sigh

“look if you’re here to get him into trouble—“

“who said i wanted to get him into trouble?”

“well—no one but he’s told us all about how you’re on his ass about following the rules. it’s not far fetched to believe that you’d use this as a chance to finally get him out of your hair.”

so he talks about you??? 🤭🤭

you try not to let that hurt your feelings

but it does a little because is that what they really think? is that what sunghoon thinks? that you just want him far away from you?

“look, i don’t want to get him into trouble. if anything i’m ‘on his ass’ to save it from getting kicked off the prefects. i even abandoned my own responsibilities to make sure he was okay, so can you just tell me where he is?”

the group of wizards looked perplexed for a moment, their eyes darting to each other with specific expressions before falling back onto you

and after a silent debate, sunoo spoke up

“he snuck into snape’s office to try and get back jungwon’s special quill. it was a gift from his grandmother, it’s got an unlimited ink charm on it. snape accused him of trying to cheat and confiscated it.”

jake continued next, looking desperate:

“it means a lot to jungwon, so sunghoon snuck in to try and get it but snape entered and now he’s stuck in there. we don’t even know if he’s been caught but he’s in a lot of trouble if he is.”

you eyes land on jungwon, who looks at the ground shamefully

me to snape rn 🤺

the expression on his face caused your heart to ache, but the thought of sunghoon getting into trouble had an even stronger grip on your heartstrings

i sense a crushhhhh 🤭🥰

which is how you find yourself outside of potions classroom, after instructing the boys to stay where they are, you formulate a plan

with your heart racing and your body filled with trepidations, you hurriedly entered the classroom, only to find sunghoon missing and snape seated at his desk

“sir-sir! i was on night duty when a slytherin and hufflepuff got into an altercation. they started hexing each other and i didn’t know how to stop—“

snape was already to his feet, the long black cloak sweeping against the ground as he hurried out of the room to find the ‘altercation’

“feel free to make a run for it!”

you call out, keeping your voice low in hopes that sunghoon can hear you from wherever he’s hiding

and then you follow after snape, leading him aimlessly around until you’re sure sunghoon could have escaped

oh you perfect mastermind you 🤭

“where’s the altercation?”

snape speaks with a snide drawl, his penetrating gaze fixed on you as impatience radiates from his every word

“they must have dispersed. very sorry to bother you, professor.”

you: 😬 snape: 😒

snape snarls, glancing around the dark and empty corridor one last time before turning around to make the gruelling walk back to his classroom to finish his evening work

once he’s out of sight, your shoulders slump in relief and you can only hope that sunghoon had gotten out okay

and you find out the very next evening, when he meets you for the night shift

you’re waiting for him anxiously, when he rounds the corner with such haste that it startles you

he doesn’t slow down until he’s right in front of you, gripping your shoulders

“i know i haven’t been the nicest to you, but what you did for me last night… i can’t thank you enough”

calm down bae they saved you from detention not a burning building 🙄 ( i’m bitter. you should be mine )

prefect duties for the next few days are a lot smoother now the two of you are actually getting along

the silence is replaced with genuine facts about yourselves, or you telling him things you had read and found interesting

every now and then, your fingertips meet in an unbidden caress, but neither of you pull away; instead, both of you savouring the warmth of the moment

it’s giving awkward crushes

finally, winter break approaches and sunghoon meets you on the platform

“i’ll write to you.”

you’re kinda surprised at that, but you beam up at him anyways

“i’ll write back.”

and you do, the two of you write back and forth for the entire of winter

friendly letters turning into awkwardly cute confessions that neither of you are brave enough to say in person

that’s actually adorable shut upppp

by the time term starts up again, the letters have transformed everything between the two of you

you’re no longer ‘just prefect buddies’, nor are you friends… but something more

sunghoon’s last letter highlighted that for you

‘i’ve never been the best with words, especially not in person. i find it much easier to hide behind a piece of parchment and confess that i’ve always found you rather endearing…perhaps when we return to school we could explore the spark between us?… man that was cringe, sorry.’

and explore you do

awkward hand brushes on prefect duty turns into gentle hand holding with matching rouge cheeks

if you see me on the road tonight, mind your business

sunghoon pushing your head away affectionately when you peer over his shoulder at the book he’s reading to pass time

the two of you avoiding your friends at all costs because they all do that annoying thing where they wiggle their eyebrows and make hearts with their hands

horrible flirting attempts

“you have really nice earlobes.”

“thanks? i like your knees…”

“thanks.”

me tryna flirt ^

you still have to stop him from slacking off, but you’re less irritated by it and more amused

because everything sunghoon does amuses you

you’re all surprised at how loud he can be

he always seemed quite reserved, like the normal one in his friend group but you come to realize that he’s just as mental—if not worse than most of them

and your first kiss is just so… you guys

sunghoon had tried to kiss you three times and every single time, you accidentally moved away

the embarrassment- i cannot 💀

it finally happened on the fourth time

the two of you had just finished up for the evening, and sunghoon insisted on walking you back to your common room

things weren’t verbally official yet, but it was an unspoken agreement that you were basically together

you paused at the door, ready to turn and bid your farewells when you were suddenly met with his face mere inches away

taken aback, your immediate reaction was to...

headbut him

even the portraits were absolutely mortified because that could not have gone worse

me and the portraits rn: 🫣

sunghoon recoiled, hand reflexively covering his face in shock. you couldn't help but gasp in surprise, one hand instinctively flying to your mouth

“oh my gosh—i’m so sorry. are you okay?”

his ego wasn’t the only thing bruised, now his head too

“yep. fine. don’t worry about me, though a simple ‘please back away’ would have sufficed”

“i didn’t realize you were going to kiss me! i’m so sorry, sunghoon…”

it takes several moments for everyone to recover

but eventually, the portraits stop hiding behind their hands and sunghoon can finally face you again

the way this would keep me up at night

“i’m really sorry…”

“no it’s totally fine. i should have asked permission first.”

you nervously clasped your hands together in front of you, your gaze drawn to the tender spot on his head where a bruise was already beginning to form

the guilt consumes you and you don’t know how else to make up for it

“i mean…you do have my permission now, if you still want to kiss me that is”

sunghoon looks unsure at first but takes an attentive step towards you

he hesitantly rests his quivering fingers against your delicate jawline, one thumb tenderly pressed against your rosy cheek whilst the other gently wraps around your hand

sunghoon leaned in until he was but a whisper away from your lips, his gentle breath grazing your face and making you close your eyes in anticipation

“you’re not gonna like punch me are yo—“

overcome with impatience, you closed the gap between you and sunghoon, capturing him in a timeless kiss.

those damn portraits are whistling, causing the two of you to pull away shyly

“well go on, make it official.”

“didn’t you see that kiss? that sealed the deal! i would’ve swooned had they not given the poor boy a concussion first.”

“personally i think they should’ve ended up with lueurjun” oh would you look at that! the portraits hey ship us too 😌

this is so long but anyways onto the actual relationship vibes

you have a habit of fixing sunghoon’s tie and robe whenever you see him

and he responds by fixing your hair for you

don’t ask why but sunghoon gives off ear scratches vibes like i just feel like he would like them

so you scratch behind his ear lot and he relishes in it

once the two of you get more comfortable with each other, he sees how unhinged you actually are

and he loves it

biting his lip during makeout sessions

now that is scandalous 🤭

his parents adore you because you keep him on track

you tying his laces because he’s prone to just letting them hang loose and almost tripping himself up

sunghoon getting cuteness aggression over your existence and just having to squeeze your cheeks

bickering like there’s no tomorrow

“i didn’t say i hate you, you just annoy me”

“next time, i’ll let you rot in snape’s office”

harmless shoving of each other

though it wasn’t harmless once ‘cause sunghoon miscalculated his strength and accidentally shoved you into a random classroom

this happened to me once but it wasn’t romantic-

he then ran off and left you to deal with the awkward conversation with your professor

you being more lenient and sneaking down to the kitchens 15 minutes before your duties end to feed each other snacks

which then turns into a mini food fight

drinking each others drinks when you go to the three broomsticks

like you both have your own drinks but end up drinking each others

listen that probably didn’t make sense, i’ve been writing this for days AND IM EXHAUSTED

you helping him study

studying usually ends in makeout sessions in the library

you putting little notes in his books to remind him that you’re thinking of him

and him drawing a penis on yours

he’s so real for that

overall, the two of you are a pair of awkward cuties who can’t get enough of each other and i love it so much

even tho you should be with me but i’ll allow it 🙄

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons [PART 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: It turns out that befriending a dragon is not as terrible or difficult as you would have thought. But people, unsurprisingly, will always still be awful.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]

The first week of your internment flew by shockingly fast.

Maybe because you were always at War—a perpetual cycle of making some demand or other (that usually centered around a desire for the barest levels of personal space or agency) only to be met persistently with the ancient, all-powerful, dragon equivolent of >:(

The clothes and toilet situation were already a lost cause. You knew this.

But there were so many other little things. And big things too, sure. But you can never fully realize how much you’re truly under someone’s thumb until you want to head off to do something utterly insignificant and cannot.

For example, your first morning in captivity you’d tried to boil a pot of water. It was nothing fancy, just a small kettle kit you kept in your travel bags for making warm drinks and reheating rations into something vaguely edible. You’d collected some bits of wood from the heaps of debris lying all over the place and gone about lighting a fire. You’d only just barely managed to get the little sticks smoking when a horrific screech sounded from overhead.

And then, WHUMP!

The spiked end of a black tail came crashing down, obliterating your little fire and sending bits of wood flying in all directions.

“What the fuck, man!”

Tsunotarou curled around you to hiss at the flattened sparks like some unholy snake.

“It’s just for my tea! My tea!” you howled. “I wasn’t going to burn your stupid house down!”

He’s shifted into his human form again not long after, and he looked down his nose at you like a fussy parent—arms crossed petulantly across his pale chest.

“Fire is dangerous for humans,” he snuffed, absolutely indignant. “If you find yourself requiring flames for anything at all, call for me and I will lend you some of mine.”

“I would have been fine,” you beseeched, looking at the shattered remains of your little campfire with a grumpy pout.

“Lilia says humans often overestimate their own constitutions,” Tsunotarou grouched, expression dour and stony. You were about to ask just who or what on Earth this ‘Lilia’ was supposed to be, when the dragon dipped his head in close to yours and nuzzled along your throat. You could feel the pinpricks of his fangs against the delicate skin over your pulse. “Which is why so many of your kind are massacred for their own foolishness. Or fall victim to plague and famine. Or wind up being burned alive. I would prefer that you not succumb to such a fate.”

You gulped, and that had been the end of that conversation.

Another time you’d tried to scale the banister to reach the bathroom on your own. It had been going pretty well, all things considered. There were plenty of nice footholds and it all had sort of settled at a slope, meaning you weren’t really climbing a wall so much as very slowly crawling up an incline like a determined slug.

You’d nearly made it to the top when you were scooped up by the back of your collar and promptly deposited at the other end of the room.

Of all the languages you half-spoke, Dragon was not one of them. But the snarling and snapping in your face certainly seemed like the rather universal ‘what do you think you’re doing?!’

“I was just trying to go the bathroom!” you argued. “No fires or anything!”

Tsunotarou’s large maw ducked down to growl into your much smaller one. He let out a series of exasperated clicks and chatter, the sharper or which were punctuated by sprays of green sparks from behind his teeth. His nostrils flared and the blast of dry heat that followed sent your head spinning and your hair gusting out behind you.

“I wasn’t going to fall,” you finally said, because you had a feeling that’s what you were being lectured about at the moment.

The rumbling growl that followed sounded like it had traveled all the way from the dark trenches of his bowels, or maybe even the very marrow of his bones. You could feel the ground vibrating under your feet.

“Fine,” you conceded. You weren’t exactly worried he was going to eat you anymore, but there were certainly… other things. Many dumb ways to die. “I won’t do it again.”

He harumphed at you, his head bobbing in what looked a bit like a nod. And then he turned and raked a gigantic claw across your little makeshift ladder of debris, flattening it into nothing with one, fell, swoop. You’d groaned and let yourself collapse listlessly back into the ensuing cloud dust.

There was also the time you’d nearly had a conniption because you were sick and tired of camping out on a frigid, stone, floor every night when you were trapped inside a literal castle.

“There are dozens—hundreds—of rooms in here,” you’d argued. “There’s got to be a bed in at least one of them.”

Tsunotarou had simply rolled over onto his side and arched a wing into the air, as if offering you the warm hollow beneath.

“You’re not comfortable,” you’d hissed, and he’d sulked ridiculously for the rest of the afternoon until you’d managed to finally come to a workable solution.

As in, dragging every goddamn mattress you could find into the cavernous ballroom that he’d long since seemed to claim as his Favorite Spot. You’d turned it into a game—see who could find the most comfy things and make the biggest squish pile. Being nearly a dozen times your size and having twice as many functional limbs that were capable of grabbing things, naturally Tsunotarou had come out as the winner. But now you had nearly endless pillows and blankets to snuggle into at night, so who’d really come out on top?

“I’ve never bothered to build a nest before,” he’d mumbled to himself, post victory. He patted gently at one of the thick duvets he’d swiped, expression almost whimsical. “It’s quite nice.”

“See,” you’d grinned, bouncing up and down on one of the springier mattresses. “I told you this was better.”

And so chuffed were you that you weren’t heading to sleep with a rock as your pillow for the first time all week, that you didn’t even complain when late into the evening he sneakily dragged you out of your plush pile and into his—tail wrapped snuggly around your waist and tucking you tightly against his ribs. I mean, his nest was much nicer than yours. It was only practical.

So, as anyone could see, your week had been far from easy.

But after those first days, once you had finally gotten a hand on all his nonsensical rules and you’d in turn concocted equally as many ways to try and circumvent them just enough to make yourself comfortable, things settled into a kind of domestic tranquility.  

And that was when time started to drag.

You’d read the handful of books in your pack a dozen times over. You’d counted the cracks in the ceiling (one-hundred-and-thirty-two of them). You’d counted the stones on the floor (six-hundred-and-five). You’d sorted those stones into piles by shape, size, color. You lolled back against your cozy pile of blankets and thunked your head miserably against your pillow. Once. Twice. Three times. Four—

“What do you normally do all day?” you complained.

Tsunotarou lazily blinked awake. He lifted his giant, serpentine, head and glanced pointedly around the cavernous room before settling back into his mountain of blankets with a contented huff.

“You just sleep?” you frowned, baffled. “All the time?”

He rumbled unintelligibly at you for a moment before digging his claws into his nest with a long, lithe, stretch. And then those scales began to melt away, and soon enough he was pale, and bare, and rolling his way into your lap with a contented little grumble.

“What would you have me do instead?” he asked, voice thick with the syrupy warmth of sleep. He stretched again, like a big cat, and settled his head more firmly against your thighs. “Raid cities? Burn villages?”

“…Ideally no,” you grumbled, hands falling habitually to start running your fingers through the silky soft hair pooling along your abdomen. “I mean, there have got to be other things dragons do. You live for thousands of years.”

He hummed, neon eyes slipping closed. He pressed his forehead demandingly up into your palm and you rolled your eyes before obligingly sliding your digits lower to scratch at his scalp and around the base of his horns. That seemed to be his favorite.  

“I am not wanted much of anywhere, I’m afraid,” he said finally with a defeated little sigh. It didn’t sound particularly self-deprecating, just… accepting. It made something sad and small curl in your gut. “So what else is there for me to do? Other than while away the hours.”

“There’s got to be something,” you pressed, that eking irritation born from boredom melting into something that was a bit too close to genuine concern for your liking. “Don’t dragons keep hoards? Treasures? That’s a thing, right?”

“Oh.” He blinked himself back into focus, as if only remembering in just that moment. “That is true. Would you like to see mine, then?”

“Aren’t hoards, like, private?” you asked, hesitant. Trying not to bring up the glaring elephant in the room that was ‘Hey. Yeah. So my friends and I totally broke in here in the first place to steal from said hoard. Not that we knew there was a dragon here. But like. I did, in fact, come here as an adventurer and a thief.’

“Naturally,” Tsunotarou hummed. You could feel it vibrate all the way up your hip. His lips quirked into a little, crooked, smile. “I’ll take you there now.”

The Treasure Room was as elaborate and expensive looking as the name implied, and it seemed to be the one area of the castle that had been spared the grey desolation that had seeped through the rest of it. It was enormous—certainly larger than even the grand, cavernous, room in which you’d recently been residing. And it was lined wall to ceiling with every variant of wealth you could imagine—precious metals, ancients tomes, paintings from every great master through history, magical weapons, the finest of spell scrolls. You could probably buy the world at least twice over with its contents.

But the thing that caught your eye amidst the endless sea of gold was not a pretty gemstone or a treasure of old, but a little, black and purple, doll—perched atop a looming pedestal of silks and finery like a crown jewel. It was small and plain with curling black horns made of felt. A chubby little dragon miniature that was as ugly as it was round.

Tsunotarou noticed your inquisitive gaze and walked over to pluck the little, cotton, creature from its throne. He held it delicately in his clawed fingers.

“Ah, yes. This is Drago. Lilia gifted him to me after one of his jaunts through the human world.” He turned the doll over in his palms, brow tugging down a bit as he did. “I hope he hasn’t been too terribly lonely. It has been a while since I’ve come down here to visit.”

The great and powerful dragon of the Castle Within The Lava Lake keeping a toy keepsake amongst his most prized possessions was so strikingly adorable that you couldn’t help but feel your heart melt at the sight.

You brightened and turned on your heel to start making your way back to the ballroom and what remained of your adventuring gear. Tsunotarou made a noise under his breath that was too dignified to be a splutter, but what you assumed was more or less his refined equivolent. And then he was tagging at your heels with a perplexed look on his face.

“Where are you going?”

“To get something!” you chirped, mentally running through the contents of your bag and little sewing kits. Yes, there should be more than plenty to—

“To get what?” Tsunotarou pouted, and you realized belatedly that running off in the middle of him showing off his life’s accumulation of precious artifacts and accomplishments was perhaps a bit rude.

“It’s a surprise,” you said. “Just give me like half an hour to put it together.”

In the end, it really only took you around fifteen minutes of fussing. Drago was hardly a complex little thing, and you’d originally learned to stitch in a panic. Trying to mend holes in pants and leather was a lot harder to accomplish when you were being actively chased by bandits, or a raging Ace. In comparison, sitting merrily on the floor of a collapsed ballroom and shoving stuffing into a little ball of cloth was hardly a challenge.

You held out your creation—equally as ragtag and ridiculous looking as its inspiration.

“There,” you beamed, and pressed it into Tsunotarou’s hands. “Now he has a friend.”

A teeny, flesh-colored, blob. With strips of soft fabric for a cloak and a hastily stitched smile. A miniature bard, perfectly (?) encapsulated in his palm.

The dragon stared down at your offering with wide, green, eyes. He looked positively startled—so caught off guard that he didn’t know what to do with himself, let alone the bewildered expression flitting across his otherwise regal face.

“You said he might be lonely,” you hummed, rocking self-consciously back and forth on your heels.

“Oh,” Tsunotarou mumbled, black-tipped claws flexing around his new gift. He observed it carefully, like an aging academic might study some ancient, arcane, relic. There was still that strange look about him—like he couldn’t quite believe the little trinket in his hand was real. “I did, didn’t I...?”

When he remained silent after that, still staring down at your homemade abomination in awe? Horror? you couldn’t tell, you began fidgeting in earnest.

“It is kind of awful looking,” you rattled off, picking nervously at the hem of your cloak. “You can get rid of it if you want—”

“No,” he barked, and then paused, clearly surprised at the ferocity of what had come out of his mouth. That at least seemed to startle him out of whatever fog had settled over his brain, and he clutched the teeny toy firmly to his chest. He cleared his throat and started again, noticeably gentling himself. “No. I think I’d like to keep this.”

You smiled. “Good! I’m glad you like it! No one deserves to feel lonely—even little, toy, dragons.”

Tsunotarou’s lips curled into an awkwardly lopsided smile—like the muscles there weren’t used to tugging so wide. It lit the entirety of his expression with something so heart wrenchingly warm that you couldn’t help but feel like none of that had really been about the little doll at all.

.

.

You really should have known better.

If someone as illiterate and ill connected as your wandering gang of idiots could stumble upon the location of a ‘secret castle overburdened with ancient treasures,’ surely anyone even marginally more competent would be able to do the same.

You’d been at the tail end of your supply of rations. And while you hadn’t entirely meant to imply that you might just wind-up starving to death, the comment had been more than enough to send your dragon into a tizzy.

“Well, what do you normally eat?” you asked, and Tsunotarou frowned as he considered.

“My guards bring me sustenance when I require it. Ice elementals, goblins, stone giants,” he listed, eyes tracking your expression in hopes that maybe any of that sounded appetizing. Which it certainly did not. His nose scrunched up in thought. “Perhaps I should seek counsel with Lilia. He would know what to do.”

You cleared your throat. “I mean, I know what humans can eat. I could just tell you.”

His face brightened. “Meat, yes?”

You nodded. “Sometimes.”

“Like that of a manticore?” he continued, excited at the prospect. “Those are particularly delicious. And there are quite a few nesting in the crags not far from here.”

His merry smile slowly slipped off his face at whatever pinched look had twisted up yours.

“Vegetation?” he tried. “There are ample bushes at the foot of the volcano. Most do have thorns, but I suppose you could pick around them.”

“…Maybe you should talk to Lilia,” you conceded.

So Tsunotarou had shifted into his scales with a promise to return post-haste and many fussy reminders that you should move as little as possible to avoid wasting any more precious nutrients. The great downbeats of his wings seemed to roll through the entire castle like a shudder, and then you were alone for the first time in nearly a fortnight.  

You lazed around in the echoing quiet, drumming bits of random tempos against your stomach and occasionally humming snatches of obnoxiously raunchy tavern tunes that you’d never really managed to bleach from your brain. How had Tsunotarou done this for decades? It’d barely been ten minutes and you were already bored out of your mind.

There was a flash of shadow near the grand entrance, and you sat up enthusiastically—ready to greet your returning host. But it wasn’t a dragon at the door.

“Who the hell are y—” the words died in your throat, and you spat a muted curse. The Silence Spell settled over your shoulders like a grungy cloak. You could feel its sticky film along the back of your tongue like a fine layer of moss.

“Who the fuck is that?” one of them hissed, and you fought the petulant ‘that’s just what I’d been about to ask you, jack ass!’ that wouldn’t have made it past your lips anyways.

There were six in total—a proper party from the looks of their ensembles. At least two people in full plate armor, a waify looking elf with a thick spell book in his hands, and three others in various getups that weren’t quite cookie cutter enough to tell you anything helpful. You rambled at them irritably, silently, gesturing rather impolitely all the while. You mimed teeth, and claws, and wings, and stomped around like a beast in a play.

‘There is a dragon here,’ you tried to say. Because maybe they were just unlucky adventurers like you and Tweedle Dee and Dum had been—not having any real idea what lay beyond these castle walls. You mimed a giant mouth, like a crocodile. ‘And he will eat you.’

“What the fuck?” Armored Dude gaped.

You pointed irritably at Mister Elf Wizard, who was still very obviously concentrating on keeping you encircled in a mesh of absolute silence.

The itchy sensation clogging your throat eased and you let out a breath, which echoed loudly in your ears. Elf-Guy looked at you with something that was perhaps a shade or two off of sympathy.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

“You need to leave,” you replied instead, firm. “There’s a dragon that lives in this castle.”

“Of course there’s a dragon,” Armored Lady scoffed. “Why do you think we’re here?”

You looked at their heavy, expensive, armor. At the giant, shining, magical, weapons hanging across their backs. At the thin wizard who proceeded catch you in a Hold Person spell that was so fast and strong you couldn’t have dispelled it if you tried. And of course you tried. What else could you do? These people weren’t like you and your loveable idiots who managed to occasionally stumble their way into an adventure. These guys were the real deal. Warriors. Heroes. Dragon Slayers.

“God-fucking-damn it.”

But of course you’d been caught in Silence once again, so you were left cursing nothing.

.

.

.

[TAG LIST] CLOSED

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[nephalem-da]

I saw you have requests open for Bill x Reader.

I wanted to ask if you'd write a playful sarcastic Bill who realizes he has feelings. And for f!human reader (or GN!reader) no less. And he does a terrible job acting like Bill usually acts when reader is present or the subject of the conversation. Dare I say he acts normal, so very unlike the weird reader is used to. But reader doesn't pick up on the obvious signs either so it's a mutual pining and awkwardness while everyone else just wants them to kiss already.

I hope you have a great day/ night/ weekend and take your time with my ask. No rush!

M'kay byeeee <3

Sarcastically Yours

(Bill Cipher x GN!Reader)

First of all, thank you so much for being my first ask! 🥳 I’m super excited to write this, and I hope you enjoy the playful chaos that is Bill Cipher realizing he’s got feelings (and doing an absolutely terrible job hiding them). Here’s a little fic with plenty of awkwardness, and pining! Enjoy!

Genre: Fluff, Humor, Mutual Pining, Slight Crack

Warnings: None (it’s all fluff and awkward cuteness)

Summary: Bill Cipher, the sarcastic demon, realizes he has feelings for you, and he does a terrible job hiding it. Meanwhile, you’re completely oblivious, and everyone else is suffering through the awkwardness, waiting for you both to figure it out.

You knew Bill Cipher was weird. A literal one-eyed triangle from a dimension beyond comprehension? That’s not exactly normal. But you’d gotten used to his sarcasm, his chaotic presence, and his annoying habit of invading your personal space. It was just Bill being Bill.

Until recently.

Something about him had changed, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Bill, the same demon who once turned your kitchen appliances into tap-dancing minions, now seemed to be avoiding eye contact with you. And when he did speak, the usual biting sarcasm was gone, replaced by awkward muttering and half-hearted jokes.

Today, Bill was sitting—yes, sitting—in the Mystery Shack, flipping through a book he clearly wasn’t reading. His usual floating, bouncing-around-the-room energy was nowhere to be found.

"Are you sick or something?" you ask, leaning on the counter, staring at him.

Bill glances up from the book, his single eye narrowing. "Sick? Me? Of course not!" His voice is just a little too high-pitched, and Dipper, who’s watching from the other side of the room, immediately raises an eyebrow.

"You’ve been acting... off," you continue, your suspicion growing. "Usually, you can’t go five seconds without making some smart remark."

"Yeah," Mabel chimes in, bouncing over to your side. "You haven’t even insulted [Y/N] today. I thought that was, like, your favorite hobby."

Bill sputters. "I—I’m giving them a break! Geez, maybe I don’t always have to be sarcastic!"

Dipper snorts from behind his journal. "Since when?"

Bill glares at him. "Since now, nerd!"

You exchange a look with Mabel, and it’s clear she’s thinking the same thing: Bill’s acting weird, even for him. Normally, he’d be pranking everyone, floating around causing mayhem, but lately, he’s been... quiet. Almost normal, and that’s what makes it even weirder.

"So," you say, eyeing him. "Are you gonna tell me what’s going on, or are you just gonna keep pretending like nothing’s wrong?"

Bill fidgets in his seat. "I told you, nothing’s wrong! I’m just... thinking. Yeah, thinking about... the stars."

"Stars?" Dipper repeats, looking up from his journal. "What, are you planning another apocalypse or something?"

Bill lets out a nervous laugh. "Nope! Just... admiring them! They’re pretty, you know?"

Mabel gasps, slapping a hand to her chest. "Did... did he just call something pretty? I didn’t know he even knew that word!"

Bill shoots her a glare, clearly flustered. "I know a lot of words, okay? Pretty, beautiful, gorgeous—"

He stops mid-rant, realizing what he’s just said. His yellow triangle face turns a strange shade of pink, and you stare at him, completely confused.

"Are you okay?" you ask again. "You’re acting really weird today, even for you."

Bill quickly waves a hand in the air, trying to brush it off. "I’m fine! You’re the one making this weird!"

"I’m making this weird?" you repeat, completely lost. "What did I even do?"

"Oh, I don’t know, exist? " Bill blurts out, and then immediately claps a hand over his mouth.

There’s a heavy silence in the room. Mabel’s eyes go wide, and Dipper looks like he’s just seen a ghost.

Stan, who’s been standing in the doorway this whole time, mutters, "This is painful to watch."

Bill, clearly mortified, stumbles to cover up his slip-up. "What I meant to say was, uh, you’re... distracting. Yeah, you’re a distraction. That’s why I’m... off my game today."

You blink at him, still completely clueless. "A distraction? How?"

"You know, just... being around," Bill stammers, waving his hands vaguely. "Being... you. It’s... distracting."

Dipper and Mabel exchange a look, and it’s obvious they’re both screaming internally. How could you not see what was happening?

Mabel steps forward, putting her hands on her hips. "Okay, Bill, enough with the weird cryptic stuff. Why don’t you just tell [Y/N] what’s really going on?"

Bill shoots her a look of pure panic. "I have no idea what you’re talking about, Shooting Star! Why don’t you mind your own business, huh?"

Mabel rolls her eyes. "Come on, everyone else has figured it out!"

"Figured what out?" you ask, completely confused.

Dipper sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This is so painful to watch."

"Painful for you? I’m the one being interrogated here!" Bill snaps.

Stan steps in, shaking his head. "Kid, just tell ‘em. This whole thing’s like watching a car crash in slow motion."

Bill groans, burying his face in his hands. "Fine, fine! You wanna know what’s going on? I’ll tell you what’s going on!"

You lean forward, curious. "Okay?"

"I—" Bill starts, then stops, clearly struggling. He takes a deep breath. "I... like you, okay?"

There’s another heavy silence in the room. Dipper drops his journal, Mabel lets out a dramatic gasp, and even Stan seems momentarily stunned.

You, however, just blink in confusion. "Like... like me? As in... what, like a friend?"

Bill lets out a frustrated groan. "No, not like a friend! Like... like like you! Like... in a romantic way!"

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. Bill Cipher, the sarcastic, chaotic demon, likes you? Romantically? The idea is so bizarre, so utterly out of left field, that you can’t even process it.

"You... like me?" you repeat, still in disbelief.

"Yes!" Bill throws his hands in the air. "Isn’t it obvious? I’ve been trying to not be a weirdo around you, but apparently, that’s even worse!"

Mabel gasps dramatically again, clasping her hands together. "Oh my gosh, this is so cute!"

Dipper just stares at you, then at Bill, then back at you. "How did you not notice this? He’s been acting like a total freak!"

Bill glares at him. "I wasn’t being a freak! I was... handling things!"

"Handling things?" Stan repeats, raising an eyebrow. "Kid, you’ve been acting like a nervous wreck. It’s embarrassing."

Bill turns to you, still flustered and obviously out of his element. "Look, I’m not great at this whole... feelings thing, okay? But I do like you. A lot. So... there. I said it."

You stare at him, your brain still trying to catch up. "You... really like me?"

"Yes!" Bill practically shouts, throwing his hands up again. "Do I need to spell it out for you?"

You blink a few more times, and then finally, it clicks. Bill Cipher, the same demon who once turned your house upside down for fun, likes you.

"Wow," you mutter, still processing. "I... I didn’t expect that."

Mabel jumps up and down, clapping her hands. "Finally! I’ve been waiting for this moment forever!"

Dipper groans, burying his face in his hands. "This is so awkward."

You look back at Bill, who’s staring at you with a mix of hope and dread. You’ve never seen him look so... vulnerable.

"Well," you start, smiling a little. "I guess I like you too."

Bill’s eye widens. "You... do?"

You nod. "Yeah, I mean... you’re still annoying, but... yeah."

Bill stares at you for a moment, clearly stunned. Then, slowly, his eye wrinkled like a grin. "Well, well, well. I guess this whole feelings thing isn’t so bad after all."

Mabel squeals, jumping up and down. "Kiss! You have to kiss now!"

Dipper groans even louder. "Mabel, no, and I don't think that's even possible with his... eye?"

Bill just scoffed but ignored him, floating closer to you. "Well, I did say I like you. Maybe I should prove it."

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. "You’re still a dork, Bill."

"Yeah, but I’m your dork now," he says, leaning in.

And maybe, just maybe, you let him kiss you.

Thank you again for being my first request! I hope you enjoyed all the chaos and awkwardness between Bill and the reader, and feel free to send in more ideas anytime! 😊

[spiderlinging]

WIP

“Shit! I mean—I’m sorry!” the frantic voice shouted at him as both men dropped to their knees to pick up all of the items that had fallen from the stranger crashing into the overfilled basket. Tony sighed in relief when he saw that the container of soup that was included in the parcel hadn’t spilled.

“I’m so sorry, I was just in a rush and I should’ve been paying more attention. I swear I’m not usually clum—” the younger man froze when the two of them finally looked at one another. “Mr. Stark,” he breathed out, deflating as if all the air had been wrung out of his lungs.

Tony thanked the universe for giving him the gift of observation so he could fully appreciate the view he was suddenly faced with. His eyes eagerly danced across each line of the boy’s face. A mess of curls sat atop his head that matched the warm tone of his wide, doe-like eyes. The pink parted lips complimented the rosiness of his cheeks that were darkening by the second.

Peter.

No, he didn’t know that. His face may have been beautiful, but it was unfamiliar and new to him. Plus, Amita had other neighbors. Like…umm…

Derek? He feels like there’s a Derek somewhere.

Regardless, his mind supplied him with the name Peter without a moment’s hesitation, almost as if it had a hand on a buzzer, eager to press the moment the opportunity arose. Memory of his conversation with Amita about Peter Parker had stayed locked behind its designated door since its inception. Now it had broken free and was causing mayhem followed by that same sinking feeling as before.

It made Tony uncomfortable not knowing things. And this was a mystery he had successfully hid until that moment.

Taking the items that Peter picked up from his hands, Tony continued to stare at the boy’s face. “Do I know you?” he asked skeptically.

After all, he did know Tony’s name.

Fuck, what was he thinking? That meant absolutely nothing. The whole world knew the name of Tony Stark. Babies emerged straight from the womb already pre-programmed knowing Tony Stark along with a plethora of future abhorrent Gen-B nomenclature.  He was fairly certain he had heard rumblings of a Stark religion picking up traction after his little resurrection deal, as if his ego needed it.

Point was, it would be stranger if the boy hadn’t recognized him. No, the name Mr. Stark had rolled so beautifully off his tongue without a moment hesitation. There was no hemming or hawing trying to play a game of “Name That Celebrity.”

Tony had never really had an authoritarian kink before, but god he could easily see that becoming a thing after hearing his name said like that. He idly thought about how the acoustics in his bedroom would perfectly amplify the sound of his name said in breathless ecstasy.

“I doubt it,” Peter (or whatever his name was) replied, snatching back Tony’s attention. The older man couldn’t help but notice the hint of cynicism in his response, leading him to  believe that they may have crossed paths in the past without Tony even realizing it. The number of baristas alone he hadn’t noticed over the years could easily fill a psychologist’s entire day with multiple group therapy sessions.

But had he missed that face? He would never claim that he noticed each and every attractive person in his proximity, but the likelihood is certainly up there.

Maybe it was years ago when “Peter” would have been walking jail bait. He may not have been a saint, but that was certainly a line he was not willing to toe. Despite his baby face, Tony clocked him to currently be in his early to mid-twenties. Unless they had encountered one another in the past 6 months since his return to the land of the living, there would have been 7 years he wasn’t around for, which would mean, prior to his dirt nap, the boy would have been—

Nope, he’s not doing that math.

“Sorry again—Hopefully I didn’t mess anything up with…that whole thing,” the neighbor gestured to the excessive amalgamation of cliché “Get Well Soon” trinkets haphazardly added back to the wicker basket. “Um—it was nice to meet you, sir,” he said bashfully before making a motion to continue down the steps.

“Wait,” Tony heard himself say, having no real plan prepared as to what words would come after. The boy stopped and waited, nervously readjusting the backpack that hung off his shoulder.

[voltronisanobsession]

miguel finding his kid again

I wanted this to be short but I couldn’t help writing so much :/ I just ended it quickly LMAO💀💀

SPIDERVERSE CONCEPT CUZ IVE BEEN OBSESSED

OK SO!! I’ve seen a LOT of headcanons and concepts about Miguel finding his kid in a different universe and just being super protective of them, whether they’re a spider or a normal civilian. But I have a different take on it.

Imagine Miguel and his crew of spider people hunting down this new anomaly that’s been jumping between different universes, always managing to narrowly escape them. Miguel is super frustrated because not one of them is able to capture this villain? Person? Ugh he doesn’t have enough time to care with all the mayhem they’re causing.

This new anomaly, aka Reader, happened to gain these freak new abilities after the events in ITSV that allows them to tear a hole in any universe and travel through it. Of course they have no idea which universe their new powers will take them to so it’s always a 50/50 chance with it.

But the real problem that makes reader a ‘threat’ to the spider society is when they stay too long in a universe, things start slowly glitching out and causing destruction to the world. They’re just too strong that it breaks the balance of any universe they stay in. Kind of like tipping the scale sort of deal!

Which is why homeboy Miguel wants Reader detained asap before they cause a whole universe to collapse on itself. But like! It’s not the readers fault really!! They just don’t know how to control their powers and having a bunch of adults viciously chase them around really does something to a kid (looking at you Miles💀)

But constantly running away from superheroes while wearing a mask does begin painting them in a villain light💔

So imagine Reader gets cornered at last by Miguel, Jess, and some other spiders.

“Guys, I promise it’s not what it looks like. I’m just a normal person, I’m practically harmless!” They say as they bump against the building behind them, watching in horror as it begins to glitch at the contact they made.

Despite the teens voice sounding familiar, Miguel brushes it off and scoffs.

“Ha, harmless. Don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be.”

Reader has no idea what the spider society is gonna do to them so they can only glitch a hole in the building behind them and run away in fear. Miguel is absolutely fed up with them and just dashes after Reader, chasing them up buildings as they glitch around. He knows he’s running out of time since this usually only happens when they’re getting ready to open a portal.

He would manage to get a hold of their hoodies sleeve before they go tumbling down to the ground, mask yanked off to properly breath in some air. Reader opens a portal, trying to stand up and stumbling a bit, looking back to Miguel.

Just as he’s about to run towards them and tackle them to the ground, his breath gets caught in his throat, heart suddenly beating erratically.

He recognizes their hair, the shape of their face, sees the fear in their eyes. He literally cannot move. Miguel is frozen at his spot, body trembling at the sight of you. His child. His dead child.

“y/n?” His voice would almost be a whisper, but reader hears. They can only stare in shock at the sound of their name, slowly backing up.

“How do you know my name?”

This dude would get some major flash backs, from his old life, to when he caused a universe’s destruction. Everything he swore to protect, to love, he failed. He failed reader twice, so it’s understandable that Miguel might be a little afraid of you.

He would not move an inch even after readers gone, Jess having to snap him back to reality. Miguel was not ready to get a smack to the face with seeing Reader again after all this time and pain.

This is what I wanted to talk about originally. After seeing his kid again, instead of growing desperate to create a new relationship with them, he’s just afraid. He’s scared of a repeat after what happened before. Miguel wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of reader, they remind him too much of what he’s lost.

I think he would step down in being about of the chase for Reader, he can’t go after them after finding out their his child. Well, in a different universe, their his child. He’s too afraid to face them again. Too afraid of the memories they bring.

It’s only when they accidentally glitch into his office that he’s forced to come face with them again. And when he does, he tries his best to get away from them💀💀💀 like bro is webbing away, powering up his platform and getting lifted up into the air away from them.

Which would totally be fine with Reader hadn’t they been chased down by this man for a couple of weeks. Why isn’t he trying to attack them? What’s the sudden mood change? Is he afraid of what they could do?

They can only clumsily climb their way up to him while asking him questions.

“Um, I know we got off the wrong foot but- urgh! Almost slipped haha! Anyways like I was saying! What’s your name? Oh and why are you trying to get away from me?”

They would be right in front of Miguel, a few feet away from where they’re hanging and he would just turn around, back facing them while they grunt in annoyance.

“You stopped going with your little gang. I know I’ve been zapping all over the place but was it something I did? Hey are you ok??”

Miguel’s body would move as he tries to stifle his quiet sobs at the sound of your voice. Oh god did he miss you. But he can’t get close to reader again. Not after what happened last time.

“I think I have tissue somewhere in my poCKEETTT-!” Miguel’s immediately webbing reader towards him as they slip off the pipe they were standing on, making a free fall

He lets out a shaky breath at the sight of you alright in his arms again. He can’t control his urges as he hugs reader tightly, letting soft apologies fall from his lips.

All this is happening and reader is just so dumbfounded. They could only awkwardly pat his arm and accept his apologies. You didn’t know he was THAT sorry for chasing you around universes.

“I missed you so much. I never wanted that to happen to you, mi corazon. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about man but thanks I guess?”

He’s sniffling as he releases you, eyebrows furrowed as he holds you by the shoulders. It’s only when he realizes reader has no idea who he is that his heart sinks.

“My dad died when I was young. Like toddler young. I never got to know him.”

You don’t know how to feel when Miguel reveals that he was your father, not the same dad from your universe, but a different variant.

This begins the weird growing relationship between the two of them. Miguel tries his best to put distance between them while Reader is just super eager to know more about him! His favorite foods, how he created this spider society, what happened to the different variant of you that clearly has him shaken up!

It would take a bit of time before Miguel slowly lets down his guard again. Allowing reader into his heart again for the third time.

[darkforze]

This was meant to be a response to an anon ask, but unfortunately I lost the original draft and the ask along with it. The anon was asking how I thought Morty and Prime would interact if Prime had showed up before c137 even had the chance, and how that would change the show. Warning that this ended up being kinda long, it's a concept I love thinking about.

I think when it comes to imagining what Prime and Mortys dynamic would be like, a big part of it comes down to how you view Prime as a character. Is he a sadistic egomaniac with no regard for others? Or a man who's ego runs so deep he considers himself a God, isolating himself from those he deems inferior to the point you could consider his existence lonely? I personally view him more like the latter.

Honestly, I can't really picture Prime taking Morty on adventures all the time like c137 does. Prime works alone, and I think he'd find Mortys more upstanding morals irritating, especially if Morty tried to get in the way of some of his more questionable research. Some dialogue in Unmortricken seems to suggest Prime views Mortys as what they really are. Kids.

I think he'd find the idea of dragging a teenage boy along with you to constantly belittle and force to do your bidding pretty pathetic. A true genius Rick like himself would have no need for a human brainwave cloaking device.

The way I picture Prime first meeting Morty is him returning to his dimension shortly after Morty is born to make sure there's no way someone (potentially a vengeful Rick looking for him) could use the kids dna to trace back to him. After making sure that wouldn't be a possibility he'd be about to portal away when the sound of the Smiths arguing in another room would cause the infant to start crying. Prime decides to at least get the kid some food to get him to shut up. It is his grandson, after all. He tells himself after he leaves it's just a one-time thing.

Except he keeps going back. He doesn't trust his estranged daughter and her sad excuse of a husband to give the little thing the care he needs. Prime doesn't exactly want the kid to starve. Morty is his grandson, a descendant of his greatness.

As Morty grows he gets used to Primes visits, looking forward to them. I imagine Prime would be more like a cool uncle to Morty than a grandfather, showing up at random times to give him things he found on different planets and telling him facts about places he's been to.

Morty would probably be a lot more confident if Prime had been the one around him instead of c137. Maybe a little too much. Prime would encourage Morty to stand up for himself, giving him shooting lessons and showing off different inventions he could use to get rid of people bothering him permanently.

I don't think Prime could care about somebody without there being some sort of possessiveness at the core of it. The only reason he gained interest in Morty in the first place is because Morty is his blood and he wanted to see what potential the kid might have. He doesn't want Morty to be some timid little thing doing whatever is asked of him like he sees other Ricks force their grandsons to be. No grandson of his is gonna be a meek, pathetic lapdog. That would be an insult to Prime's genius dna flowing through the kids blood.

Eventuallly after Morty asks enough times about going with Prime to a different planet, Prime gives in and starts taking him along for simple adventures (at least, simple at first). It would play out similar to the actual show, with Morty being absolutely dumbfounded and terrified at the sort of things he sees whilst Prime treats it like a regular tuesday. The most noticeable difference would probably be that Prime wouldn't belittle Morty as much as c137 (except if the kid tried to get in his way), and Morty would be more confident from the start and probably start to like the mayhem a little more. Mortys morals would eventually start to deteriorate like we see in canon, possibly even faster due to Prime's influence. He'd definitely start to grow more distant towards his other family members and people in general.

But still, I don't think Prime would take Morty with him all the time. He works better alone and having to cater to Mortys needs can be a nuisance when he's trying to work on something. I can picture him requesting Morty to help him in other ways instead, like fixing up his weapons and repairing some killbots.

I'm a fan of the idea that c137 pretty much let the earth in Primes dimension go to ruin on purpose. But if c137 never gets to meet Morty in the first place in this hypothetical au, that would never happen. Prime especially would have no reason to destroy Mortys home. He wants Morty to respect him, there's no point traumatising him like that if it will make Morty fear him and not want to be like him. Because then Morty would end up just as mediocre as other versions of himself.

You could have a lot of juicy drama with Morty finding out that Prime killed every single version of his grandmother throughout time and space. He'd probably start to question Prime a lot more and wonder if he's becoming like him for the worse. It'd be especially fun to throw c137 into the mix. He'd definitely be a lot worse off without Morty in his life. Hell, you could make him into an antagonist always searching for Prime, posing a threat to the duo.

I hope this makes at least a bit of sense. I'm sad we'll probably never see the two of them interact, but in a way imagining it yourself is the fun part. If the anon that sent the ask is reading this, I hope it didn't disappoint.

[julesdaydreams]

Hopelessly devoted to you

@rosekillermicrofic II May 4 - hopeless II word count: 804

fluff, fluff, just so much fluff <3

One thing about Evan Rosier?

He was absolutely and unquestionably hopeless for his best friend, Barty Crouch Jr.

It started when they met at 11 years old. Evan had taken one look at the other boy causing mayhem on their first day at school and he instantly knew that this boy would be his best friend.

What followed were three years of Evan going above and beyond when it came to Barty. Skipping classes with him, letting him copy their homework, pranks, long nights awake on the same bed just talking and talking - Evan did it all and he did it happily.

He was fourteen by the time he realized his feelings for Barty went beyond your usual best friend relationship. That maybe it wasn't normal to do everything your best friend asked of you in a heartbeat and if Barty would jump off a bridge, Evan wouldn't hesitate to follow him.

He spent another three years hopelessly in love with Barty, pining after the other boy while he explored his sexuality in every way possible.

Evan died a little every time Barty kissed someone else, everytime he saw a sock on the doorknob, everytime he spent his time alone because his best friend was elsewhere occupied.

He tried to stop giving Barty everything - including his heart. Tried dating, tried having a casual hookup that he had to break off before the boy could even get to his underwear because his whole body recoiled at the thought of letting anyone touch him like that.

No matter what he did, it always came back around to Barty. Wirh his mischievous eyes and chapped lips that Evan had spent too many nights thinking about kissing.

He had resigned himself to never getting over Barty in their last year at school. Had found peace in being just his best friend and nothing more. His heart ached everyday but at this point it was a familiar feeling amd he welcomed it. Was glad to know he loved his best friend and would until his last breath.

This is why he didn't know what to do with himself the moment the impossible had happened and Barty told him that he loved him.

It was a random day, Evan had been lying on his bed, getting an assignment done that was due the next day when Barty came barreling in through the door, looking disheveled, a frantic look in his eyes that had Evan in alert almost immediately.

And then - completely out of the blue - he said the one thing Evan could've never predicted.

“I love you, Rosie.”

And Evan had blinked, had needed Barty to clarify, needed reassurance that he wasn't dreaming, that this moment was real and Barty really loved him and he wasn't fucking with Evan.

And when he finally got that reassurance, when Barty looked so beautiful right there in their room, heart in his hand and offering it to Evan with quivering hands, Evan jumped up from his place on the bed and closed the small space between them to crash their lips together.

It was everything Evan every dreamed of and more.

Now, five years later, of which they've lived four together in a flat in london - that wasn't very big or impressive but it was theirs - Evan thought back to those moments of his younger self and smiled.

It hadn't been all sunshine and rainbows. Evan was so afraid Barty would leave him the moment he told him about not wanting to have sex - in any way. But Barty had been more than understanding, talking about how just kissing Evan was more than enough and even though he thought it impossible, Evan fell even harder for the other boy.

They also fought from time to time - with two personalities like theirs it was normal to butt heads every once in a while but they always came crawling back to each other at the end, always needed the other's comfort.

Lying there in their bed, Barty's head resting peacefully on Evan's chest while Evan carded his hands through his boyfriends hair, Evan wished he had the chance to tell his fourteen year old self that everything would turn out well.

And when Barty excused himself for a moment, left towards the bathroom and came back through the door, looking at Evan with such an intensity but such a calmness to him that starkly differed from the time where they were in a similar position - Evan on his bed, Barty in the middle of the room after barrelling through the door - and his boyfriend got down on one knee with that infuriatingly handsome smile on his face, Evan knew that maybe Barty was just as hopelessly in love with him as he was.

[luvly-writer]

XOXO

Ch.21 Gonna regret being too honest

-•-

Author's note: IM BACK!!! The semester finally ended and i can take a breather and write. I have various ideas on how to finish this story so I'm excited, hope all of you are too!!!

Warnings: Short chapter, i’m trying to get back into my writing mentality rn

Taglist: @w31rdg1rl @grandstrangerphantom @mxtokko @loonymoonystuff @1llellykins @cangosleepnow @dreamspectrum @its-maemain @tamimemo @nightw-izhu @trasshy-artist @gabriiiiiiii @cassini-among-the-stars @pank0w @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @blackbirdi @m3ntally-unstable @fixation-rat112358

Masterlist:

-•-

"Hello, Timothy" Y/n responded her phone. It had been such a beautiful day. She had had breakfast at Saraberth's with her sisters, a few meetings from her new internship, and had an appointment at the salon with Satine and Clara. And finally, her favorite person called as she was in the middle of soaking her feet during her pedicure with Satine and Clara to her sides.

"Last time I checked, my name was Timmy, was it not" He responded cheekily and laughed once he heard her giggle.

"That is correct, my apologies for the mistake, Timmyyyy" she said happily which caused her to best friends to look at each other and smile. They were imposible to hide. "Everything alright?"

"Yes, angel, I'm calling you cause I need the service of the wicked goddesses of mayhem, discord, and destruction of the Upper East Side for a case."

"Hmmm, I like that..the wicked goddesses of mayhem, discord, and devastation-"

"Destruction, but devastation surely counts too" Tim corrects making her laugh once more, "So, can you help us?"

"Ladies" she said, calling their attention, "ready for another scheme?"

-•-

"So let me get this straight," After their appointment, the three girls stopped by Wayne Manor. Currently they were seated in one of the private living rooms. Satine and Clara sported each an expreso martini and sprawled in one of the couches. Y/n was sitting in the other side of the sporting a glass of water with Tim leaning against her chair behind her, "You want us, to use our intellect, status, influence, and power to help you and your client, whoever they are, uncover if Senator Jonesy has any connections to the new cargo shipments of......reality distorsion serums from Scarecrow?" Clara cleared up.

"Precisely, it is safe to assume his daughter has been quite a big fan of you three for the longest of times and your names have a susbstancial amount of weight in her group of friends and that you have information on his not so ethical behavior in a club?" Tim answers and the three of them nod.

"That is correct, he was one of the many men who were in the club we broke into in our second year of university when I wanted to see if it was true he had a side piece and blackmail him into erasing some evidence of Clara's party" said Satine

"So are you in?" He asked once again

"What's in it for us? We know why Y/n would do you a favor but why us?" debated Clara, ever the calculating one.

"I was sure you'd ask that question. Wayne Enterprises will guarantee access to a unique fashion line we are starting. We offer your collaboration as a designer, Clara, and a guarantee of being center stage star model at all of our shows, Satine." Tim assured. Both girls seemed delighted by the idea and agreed offering their hands for a handshake. Tim walked around Y/n and shook their hands.

"Well, we have some scheming to do, no time is better than now. You'll be sent every single piece of information we find, pleasure doing buisness with you" Said Clara standing up, followed by Satine.

"An absolute pleasure, we'll contact you, bye bye!" Satine waved as she departed, leaving Y/n and Tim alone.

"I could almost see the devil horns sprouting at the prospects of scheming" Tim said with a laugh sitting next to the young girl, making her laugh and nod.

"We haven't had a good one in a while, they are bloodthristy"

"No,no, I can see that" he assured making her laugh even louder.

"So is this mysterious associate who is need of this information my good friend Red Robin by any chance?" she asked and he nodded. A thought as random as it was came to his head and he knew he shouldn't be doing this but-

"Wanna see the cave?" he asked, lacking a better judgment, "Everyone is out and we'd have the place to oursleves". Seeing the excited gleem in her eyes gave him the answer he needed.

-•-

"It LITERALLY is a cave!! Tim, oh my...this is fantastic"

He was giving her a tour of it and couldn't help but smile. She really was the cutest human being he had ever encountered. "That was the lab and the training area, this is what we call the batcomputer, the batmobile, the-"

"Bruce was lacking in creativity I can see huh?"

He burst out laughing and nodded, "We have ALL said the same thing once we are shown for the first time. Ah and this is where we place the weapons and the suits" He lead her to the weaponry and exhibition rooms. He showed her every single suit, from the summer editions to the winter ones. Finally, they sat on a table near the area, talking about anything and everything, Tim telling her stories of grand adventures and dumb adventures with his sibblings and teams. As he was halfway through one of them racing with grocery shopping carts one particular boring patrol night, Y/n saw one of their spare masks on the distance and reached to grab it. She gently placed in on making him pause and admire her.

"You can actually see with these?!?" she asked making him laugh, "Yeah, how else do you think we are able to fight, angel" he says.

"You have it a little crooked, here let me help" He stands up and steps between her legs to fix it. She places her hands softly on his waist as she takes a moment to take him in.

"And...there, you have it correctly placed" He says softly, placing his hands on either side of her, leaning a little bit foward.

"How do I look?" she asks softly, faces inches from his

"Hot" He answers shamelessly cheking her out, "I'd let you save me any day"

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm, definitely. Would even get myself in trouble to purposely meet you"

"My my, Timothy, who knew you were such a flirt"

"Mhmm" It was the best he could say when she was sitting looking delicious as ever. They stayed quiet for a moment, just admiring each other. He took it to carresing her cheek and the started getting closer to almost having their lips touch. "Y/n..."

"Yeah?" she said breathlessly

"I love you" He whispered before he smashed his lips onto hers.

--------------------------------------------------------

[seven-oomen]

Debating if it's funnier if Cody knows Obi-Wan has a nine-year-old (almost ten-year-old) child and doesn't tell his vode about it until Cal literally walks off the ship with Ahsoka on Christophsis. (In which case, Cody meets Cal (and Obi-Wan) for the first time on a medical transport right after Obi-Wan & Anakin's fight with count Dooku. )

Or, if Cody also had no idea the general had a child, and it's even more of a shock when a literal nine-year-old (almost ten-year-old) and a fourteen-year-old report for duty as the new Jedi commanders. And boy, does he have some words for the general about this new development of putting literal children into a war zone. (That last one happens regardless of the path I go with.)

Part of me wants to put Cody there early, just so he can take one look at Cal sitting beside Obi-Wan's bed and immediately decide; if anything happens to this child, I will kill everyone in this room.

But on the other hand, If Cody never met him before, and Cal is an absolute little shit that gets himself in so much trouble, it could be very funny to have Cody be the person who constantly has to get Cal out of trouble. And a father-son bond gradually develops between the two.

Or a mix of those two where it's either Cody likes both Kenobi's (Don't you dare badmouth either of them), but kriff him that kid gets into so much trouble. (And his parent isn't much better).

Or the other mix, Cody likes Obi-Wan, not too sure about this gremlin child that's hiding in vents, causing mayhem, but kriff he is very cute when he's asleep, or when he comes up to him with random stuff he's found.

I am in dubio on what would work better.

[luffyrose]

Dc x Dp Random Blurb #2

I know I just made the first but it's midnight, I can't sleep, and I'm thinking about random things.

Anyway. Siblings. And Pranks.

You know how people always kinda portray Dick as a little chaotic but mainly the one doing damage control for his brothers? Yeah, that's total bs when it comes to siblings.

My oldest sibling most literally tried to convince me to jump off the roof of a church on time. I WAS 8. They also cried when I went on a school trip for a week because they were worried I would get hurt or something.

So. Got me thinking. Dick is SEEN as the tame one by his siblings solely because he's too tired tm to do anything and no one seems to remember him being an absolute gremlin so he's not gonna just out himself when he could cause mayhem later.

Only Cass is vaguely aware of how chaotic Dick can be and that's only because she walked in on him pouring a literal ton of sleeping meds into various things Tim eats while giggling maniacally to himself. Of course, she's not gonna rat him out though, he gives the best hugs.

Either way, no one is aware or remembers how much of a gremlin Dick can truly be, especially being the eldest sibling of many.

In comes Danny. For whatever reason.

Danny LOOKS just like Jason and that tripped everyone up. But when he settles into living with them, they discover that this 'Jason 2.0' is in fact a mini Dick Grayson running around causing absolute chaos.

Dick is delighted by this news and get out of here depression, he must show his newest sibling how to hand from a chandelier long enough to drop a bucket of the most rancid things imaginable onto the first person, minus Alfred, to walk under it.

Upon the gremlin duo having free, acrobatic range, of the house, Bruce is reminded why he questioned adopting his oldest son when he was still younger. That plus the chaos he did with the other heroes in training at the time.

It's one prank too many that Bruce, at dinner, stares dead ahead and just sighs.

"Not again Dick, not again."

Because I think we can all guess who a moody teen who runs around beating up bad guys at night would prank the most if said baby hero had been grounded. Danny's own abilities just seem to make it much easier for the now SUPPOSEDLY adult hero to do the same pranks to his very unsuspecting family.

[mama-qwerty]

Okay. So.

The Sonic 3 trailer.

First of all, I watched this with my whole family, so didn't see it until about 2:30 this afternoon. My son is the one who got me into Sonic in the first place, so I thought it was only fair that I wait until he got home from school so we could watch it together.

We all absolutely loved it, and think it looks like a really fun ride.

I've rewatched it a few times, and a few things stood out to me.

The Race Scene

The little bit at the beginning when the three are having what looks like a race into the forest back home. Maybe they're actually racing or playing capture the flag or some other kind of game to give them some enrichment and exercise (so they don't cause shenanigans). Based on a few other quick shots, it looks like they're having fun.

Now, further into the trailer we see Knuckles kicking off Big Ben, and Sonic zipping up the side of a bridge, much like he did off the log back home during this game. I'm thinking we'll see a parallel of the game at some point, where they maybe need to work together, or just need that connection to home to really focus and get the job done. (I'm guessing they're going after whatever that ship is that's coming out of the water. Maybe. I dunno. The time of day looks right, though.)

Team Sonic Working With GUN

Walters isn't recruiting the boys out of just desperation. He wants to see them in action, wants to know what they're capable of. And he's only going to tell them what he wants them to know. They're not chomping at the bit to join the very organization that tried to capture them (Sonic and Tails) or likely hold them accountable for partnering with Robotnik the last time (Knuckles).

Sonic calls Shadow a "rogue alien", which would be odd if he knew Shadow's true origins. Walters likely told them Shadow appeared on earth 50 years ago and was subdued and put into status, but escaped and now is a danger to the planet. They likely don't even know he's a hedgehog. Which would explain Sonic's claim of not wanting to fight once they realize he's like them.

Which ends badly for all three.

My guess is that line about how "Shadow isn't too different from Sonic" is said later, once the family confronts Walters about who this other hedgehog really is. Walters has no choice but to fess up (to a point) and tell them what happened.

"What did you do?"

Sonic says this line with such a combination of anger and fear and pain that I can only guess that Shadow did something to Sonic's family. Likely Tom. This would cause Sonic to drop all pretense of jovial banter, and get really, really pissed.

I've seen theories that this maybe brings about Dark Sonic, which would be cool, but I have my doubts. But it will test Sonic's heart, calling back to the scene at the beginning that Tom said his heart never changed after everything. If Sonic thinks Shadow hurt (or killed) someone he loves, he would feel very conflicted in how he'd react to that.

Robotnik

Okay. So, he's back, no surprise there, and he's looking really unkempt. Depression does that to a person. I'm eager to see the back and forth that gets him to agree to work with the boys, and wouldn't put it past him to demand the Master Emerald as payment. To which Knuckles will of course refuse, which is why Sonic will give him one of his quills instead.

He likely has no idea about Shadow, as it seems as though Shadow escapes on his own. (Or does he? Could Robotnik have access to whatever containment system Shadow's been kept in, and releases him simply to cause mayhem?)

The group somehow end up at what used to be the ARK for some reason. I take it this is where Robotnik double crosses the boys (shocker!) and chains them up to let Shadow finish them off.

This is also where he meets his grandfather, Gerald. (He calls Gerald Pap Pap, which is a term some people use for their grandfathers, myself included.)

Now, here's where I have a few theories. It could really be Gerald, still alive and running on his anger after all these years. If he stayed at the ARK after the military overran it, that would be 50 some years of solitude, where he's dwelling on what happened, why it happened, and what could have been done to prevent it. He's become twisted and insane, seeing humanity as a plague and releasing Shadow to enact his revenge.

Or, based on how identical Ivo and Gerald look, it's possible 'Gerald' is actually Ivo himself. Maybe a subplot of this is the chaos emeralds, they need to find them so Sonic can be powerful enough to stop Shadow. But maybe they're like the Infinity Stones, and one has the power to manipulate time. Ivo gets hold of it, goes back in time, and proceeds to use the quill that Sonic gave him during their little agreement to work together to create Shadow.

Or the chaos emerald itself was used to create Shadow as well, and that's why he's got so much chaos energy in him that he can't control. He can't find that damn fourth chaos emerald, because he IS the fourth chaos emerald.

Or, Ivo is a clone that Gerald made of himself to continue his research. When the ARK was raided, all of Gerald's experiments were taken, including Gerald IV--that the government named Ivo before placing him into an orphanage.

I dunno. None of these are likely true. But they're fun to play with and think about.

Tails

Adorable as ever. I'm hoping we get some more engagement and action from him.

Knuckles

My boy. Needs an ice pack for that wrist. Just wanna scoop him up and care for him. I hope we see some good interactions between him and the rest of the family.

Shadow

He looks good. Like, really good. I'm not 100% sold on the voice acting, but we've only heard 2 lines from him, so I'm reserving judgment on that. The fight scenes look great, and he's a very formidable adversary for the boys. Unlike anything any of them have seen or fought before. Running on pure grief and anger, he's thrown into a world he doesn't understand, and doesn't care to because it stole his sister from him.

~~~

I found the trailer very fun, and am excited for the movie. And I'm happy to see some excitement for the SCU out there again.

[bwabys-scenarios]

Reunited

Part 24

Illumi x Reader x Feitan

part 23

part 25

warning: feitan is mean and ungrateful but what did you expect, he’s a lil gremlin! reader gets bitten and scratched cuz he’s wild 🙏

taglist: @tsukilover11 @mercyboluthecrazychicken @sxyriii @shidoni-san @living4tomrua @lemonslut @honeylunalove @sugarrushdaydream

if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

3 years ago

The summer air was suffocating. (Name) had long since abandoned her long sleeves and fluffy blankets, exchanging them for tank tops and sheets.

The girl continued her work of peeling apples. If she wanted to finish her next batch of apple butter before her journey into town next week, she’d need to peel until she couldn’t anymore.

“Reports of the notorious band of thieves, the Phantom Troupe, wreaking havoc in the next city over have reached-“

(Name) switched the channel of her small bear up radio. She didn’t want to hear about some thieves causing mayhem. The girl had already pushed the name out of her mind by the time she continued her work.

As the day wore on, she felt herself grow tired. She’d peeled around 60 apples. (Name) tossed the remaining bags of fruit into her fridge, setting the cut apples to boil on the stove.

‘Mmm, I think I’ll go dip my feet in the river while this boils. I deserve a little relaxation!’

(Name) slipped her flip flops on and ran outside, sliding down the hill and to the river’s edge.

It was calm and quiet, the sound of crickets and the sight of fireflies soothing to the girl. The water was surprisingly cool against her skin, causing her to jump lightly upon contact.

She sat down on the rocky riverside, dipping her feet into the water. “Ahh, now this is nice.”

For a moment, all of her worries of making ends meet and supporting her family melted away, the feeling of the river’s water lapping at her skin allowing her to forget.

But this wouldn’t last long. (Name) opened her eyes at the sound of something bobbing in the water. She turned to look down the river, narrowing her eyes to get a better look.

‘Is that an alligator? No, it couldn’t be, that shape isn’t right…’

(Name) stood and shook the water from her feet. She walked along the riverside until she was close enough to see what was floating on the surface of the water.

“Is that… oh my god!”

(Name) threw off her shoes and jumped into the river, swimming to the center to grab at the shape slowly sinking into the water. It was a person!

She swam back to shore, pulling the man up onto the rocky riverside. He was breathing, thankfully, so she wouldn’t have to do mouth to mouth.

“Let’s get you inside…”

She half carried, half drug the body to her porch, setting him down on the wooden floor as she scurried inside. She quickly turned the apples off before they could boil over, and rushed into the bathroom for her first aid kit and towels.

Not only was he absolutely soaked, but his body was covered in wounds, ranging from small cuts, to gashes. His arms were in the worst of shape though, having turned a strange purple color.

“Ah, he’s shivering. I gotta get him warmed up before he gets sick…”

She pulled at the man’s clothes, muttering an apology under her breath as she began undressing him.

—————

(Name) sighed, setting the small man down on the bed in the guest room. Thankfully she’d just laid out fresh sheets.

The girl didn’t have any men’s clothes for him, so she settled on pulling a pair of her pajama pants over his otherwise naked body. So far she had avoided looking at anything private, and she was planning on keeping it that way.

“Mm, his shirt was destroyed, but his pants and boxers can be washed and dried. Better than nothing, I guess.” She set aside the wet clothing for later, focusing on his injuries.

He had a large gash on his chest. It would need stitches, something (Name) could handle. Any other small cuts and bruises could be treated with a bandaid or salve, but his arms… that’s what she was most worried about.

His arms didn’t appear to be broken, but the purple color was throwing her off. He had also grunted in pain when she’d touched him, the only reaction he’d had the the entire time.

She decided to wait until he woke up to address his arms, setting some packs of ice to help with the swelling.

(Name) got to work stitching up his wound, being as gentle as possible. After that, she wrapped his chest in gauze, tending to his smaller cuts with some antibacterial spray and bandaids.

He had some glass stuck in one of his legs, which she had to pick out as well. Just what in the hell happened to this man to be in such bad shape?

She wanted to call a doctor to come check him out, but she had so signal so far out from town. She’d have to wait for him to wake up and be stabilized before she could leave, and that worried her.

After a few hours of tender care, (Name) covered him up and turned off the light. His breathing had evened out, his chest rising and falling softly.

When (Name) was finally able to climb into bed, she realized she hadn’t taken the time to really take in his appearance. She’d been so focused on saving his life she hadn’t even thought to get a good look at him.

‘That’s alright. I’ll take a good look at him tomorrow…’

—————

Sun filtered in through the curtain drawn window, causing the sleeping man to groan and attempt to raise a hand to his face to block out the light.

He regretted this immediately.

Indescribable pain shot through his limbs, causing him to scream out in agony. He cursed in his native tongue, struggling to sit up.

The door in front of him bursted open, a short, plump woman running through.

“Holy- are you okay? You’re awake oh my-“

She paused at the wild look in his eyes. The man growled, struggling to back away as he practically barked at her.

“Stay back.”

(Name) held her hands up in surrender, giving him the space he requested. Once she was a good distance away, he relaxed, but only slightly.

“Where am I?” He had an accent that (Name) couldn’t quite place, but it was nice.

The girl looked from his face to his arms, concern written across her face. “You’re in my home. I found you in the river last night.”

He frowned, sweat beading down his forehead from him straining to get up. “Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m (Name).”

His next question came fast. “What you want from me?”

She paused, her brows knitting together in confusion. “Nothing? Why do you ask?”

He let out a humorless laugh. “No one helps for “nothing”. What, want information? Better kill me, I don’t talk.”

She blinked before waving her hands frantically. “Kill? Whoah I’m not gonna kill you! I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I don’t want anything from you.”

Although he could tell she spoke the truth, it didn’t do anything to ease his suspicious. “Don’t… don’t come near.”

He felt his eyelids grow heavy. He had just woken up, but he was still exhausted. The weight of his body slowly sunk back into the bed, the man falling back into a restless sleep.

(Name) stood still until his breathing returned to normal. She then walked over and placed a hand on his forehead.

‘He’s burning up!’

She rushed out of the room and returned to place a damp rag on his head, replacing the melting bags of ice on his arms as she did.

‘Hmm… I’ll make something easy to eat for when he wakes up.’

She settled on some homemade chicken noodle soup. She’d recently culled some of her meaner roosters, so she had some left over chicken sitting in her freezer.

“This will do. I hope he’s not allergic to any of this…”

(Name) was able to get a better look at him this time. He was relatively small, shorter than her definitely, with black hair that fell past his cheeks and a pale complexion. She couldn’t place his eye color, they were either a dark shade of gray or a light shade of purple.

The next time the man woke up, it was night. By the looks of the sky outside, it had just become dark out. He could hear the sound of the woman humming, the clinks and clanks of dishes being washed reverberating down the hall.

He was able to sit up with minimal pain this time, the bags of (now melted) ice dripping to the floor. The rag that had been placed on his forehead fell into his lap as he observed his surrounding.

The room was plain, having blue walls and no decorations. Next to him was a night stand with a cup of water and a straw. Had that woman left that there?

‘Need to call boss. Doesn’t know what happened.’

He looked around, spotting his phone next to the water on the nightstand. It was broken, and even if it hadn’t been it wouldn’t have worked because of his dip in the river.

The man thought back to his fight, and how he’d gotten there.

Chrollo had ordered him to steal an expensive relic from a local gang, which Feitan thought was child’s play. Although only Feitan was ordered to take the gang out, the news reported that there was more than one spider ransacking the town. He wondered how scared they would have been if they knew all that damage had been caused by him.

Feitan only ran into trouble when a nen user skilled in paralyzing peoples bodies was able to grab his arms. The limbs quickly turned purple, but Feitan was able to kill the man with little to no further injuries.

He dropped the relic off at the designated spot before walking along the river. Feitan hadn’t realized how badly injuried he really was until he felt himself sliding down the hill and into the river. He passed out before he could swim to the surface.

Thankfully, he was light enough to float down until (Name) spotted him.

‘Careless. Should have contacted Boss beforehand…’

He looked down at his arms, gritting his teeth. It seemed the persons nen hadn’t disappeared after his death. From the small amount of information he’d heard, the paralyzation could last up to 4 months. ‘Stupid. Could have been more careful.’

He wanted to slam his fist into the wall, but knew that would only make things worse. Feitan instead took a deep breath.

His mind wandered back to the woman from the previous day. His arms were next to useless, would he have to rely on her to eat? Feitan didn’t want to. He couldn’t believe that the girl had no ulterior motive, it just wasn’t possible. No one helped others without looking to gain something, at least not in Feitan’s world.

The sound of the door creaking open caught his attention. He’d been so deep in thought that he hadn’t heard her approach the door.

“You’re awake! That’s good, just in time for dinner.”

The girl walked in carrying a plate with a bowl and piece of bread on it. She sat it down in the man’s lap as she situated herself in the chair she’d placed beside his bed.

“Can you move your arms?” she asked, picking up the bags of ice.

“No.”

She nodded. “Alright, then I’ll feed y-“

“No.”

“No? What do you mean no, are you not hungry?”

She reached out to place a hand on his forehand. Maybe he had a fever that was upsetting his stomach! But before she could place her palm on his head, he lifted his head and bit her hand.

“H-hey!” She pulled her hand back and held it to her chest as small droplets of blood beaded to the surface.

“Don’t touch me.”

She could feel the venom dripping from his words, an unspoken threat laced in between them. If she touched him, he’d hurt her.

“But if I can’t touch you, I can’t help you. I promise I’m not going to hurt you, I-“

“Stay away.”

Something about that man felt dangerous, like she was a gazelle standing in front of a lion. His eyes pierced into hers, telling her that he wasn’t someone to be messed with.

(Name) sighed and stood up from her chair. “I’ll try again later. Goodnight.”

She took the bowl and left the room, turning the light off behind her.

Feitan woke up feeling better than he had when he fell asleep, and weirdly not hungry. Out of habit, he attempted to lift a hand again to block out the sunlight, only to be reminded of his condition.

“Fuck…” he groaned, sitting up. He swung his feet over the side of the bed, taking tentative steps towards the door.

He paused for just a moment to look over his attire. Hanging dangerous low on his waist was an oversized pair of sweatpants, with some kind of cat cartoon character he didn’t recognize. They were much to big for him, the drawstring pulled tight to keep them from falling down his hips.

‘If Uvogin or Shalnark saw this, wouldn’t hear the end of it.’

Unable to open it with his hands, he kicked it open, causing it to fly off its hinges.

(Name) screeched from the kitchen. “OH MY- my door!” She rushed over, glancing between her door and the man in front of her.

“Where the bathroom?”

She blinked. It took her a moment to process his question before she pointed to the open bathroom.

As he began to walk away she stopped him by clearing her throat. “Will you be needing any help?”

He glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow. “What, gonna hold my dick for me?”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, just walked in and kicked the door close.

(Name) was left in a stunned silence, staring at the door. ‘Did he…’

She huffed and went back to working in the kitchen. It wasn’t as easy as it had been before she’d had to bandage her hand, but she’d power through it.

——————

Feitan could feel something warm in his mouth, something savory. It tasted good, the man swallowing the liquid in deep gulps.

In his dreams, he was sitting with all of his childhood friends enjoying the soup chrollo had made them. All it was was chicken and water with some sparse seasonings, but feitan enjoyed every second of his meal.

The smallest of smiles was on his face as a spoon was lifted to his lips.

He was still asleep, and (Name) was going to take advantage of that.

She’d propped him up and had slowly been dripping the broth from her soup into his mouth for the past 15 minutes, being mindful of his breathing. For the past two days, she’d been feeding him like this when she could.

He refused to eat anything she offered him, threatening her if she got too close. He always followed through with his words, biting and clawing at whatever skin he could get to.

Feitan didn’t stay awake much, only getting up to use the bathroom before passing out again. She’d gotten used to the man randomly leaving his room only to use the bathroom.

One afternoon after he left, she saw water dripping down his face and onto his chest. (Name) assumed he has been drinking water from the sink. He didn’t even trust her enough to drink the water she had supplied.

This didn’t bother her, though. The kind of wounds Feitan had received, both old and new weren’t the type that littered an ordinary man’s body. He’d had a hard life of fighting to survive, so she didn’t take his harsh words and actions to heart.

(Name) had fixed the door to her best ability to give the man some privacy. She left it cracked open slightly so he could go to and fro without breaking it again. Feitan seemed perplexed by her actions. Despite his less than kind attitude, she seemed unbothered. This freaked him out.

(Name) knocked on the door before entering with a medkit in one hand and his laundry in the other. “Hey. I need to change your bandages.”

He didn’t glance up from looking at his lap, his lips twisting into a deep frown. “I said no touching.”

“Yeah, I know, but if I don’t change your bandages you’ll get an infection.”

Feitan sneered at her, spitting out his words. “Don’t care. Stay away.”

She set the medkit down and placed his laundry on the bed before she sat next to him. Unlike placing ice packs/rags and feeding him, changing his bandages in his sleep wouldn’t be easy. If he woke up, he might seriously hurt her.

“Alright, I won’t touch you, but I’ll need to go to town and get a doctor. If I can’t help you then I can at least get someone-“

“No doctor.”

(Name) raised an eyebrow at this. “No doctor? How exactly do you plan on getting better if I can’t touch you or get you a doctor?”

The man didn’t answer, giving her a glare. “Listen, your three options are to let me take care of you, see a doctor, or die from infection. What’s your choice?”

He looked her straight in the eye as he answered.

“I choose death.”

——————

“God, he’s stubborn. And annoying.”

(Name) loaded her homemade canned goods into her large basket, huffing and puffing over the man’s behavior. He’d fallen back to sleep after his declaration, not bothering to speak on the subject further.

He seemed to be doing alright, all things considered, but his attitude was worsening by the day. He refused to tell her anything, not even his name.

(Name) fastened her basket to her bike and started on her journey to town.

It took around 30 minutes by bike, but stopping to take breaks made it a 45 minute trip.

(Name) participated in a farmers market every Sunday, selling her canned goods to make enough money to support herself and send a little money home to her family every month.

After a long day of selling her goods, she packed up her cash into three plastic jars. One was for her, the second was for her family, and the third was new. It would be her “mysterious stranger fund”, money she’d use for his basic necessities.

She decided to stop by the local thrift store and buy a few different pairs of clothes for the man. It was hard to find things that fit his style. Even in the heat, he’d been wearing a long black coat, so she assumed he liked wearing warm clothing.

She could afford a pair of black jeans, a black hoodie, a few pairs of boxers, some socks, and a set of pajamas. It would have to do until she could come back next week.

He hadn’t bothered to change out of the sweatpants she’d dressed him in his first night there, despite her pleas for him to do so.

Feitan would just scoff, saying that he wouldn’t be able to sleep in his usual pair of pants.

He didn’t seem to like talking, maybe it was because he wasn’t great with words? (Name) really liked his voice though, it was attractive when he wasn’t growling or yelling at her.

She stuffed the jars her loyal customers had returned and the clothes she bought into her basket and started on her way home. It was dark now, but the moon guided her along her path.

——————

“I’m home, I got you some-“

(Name) paused, dropping her basket onto the floor.

The man was sprawled out along the floor, his breathing uneasy and sweat beading down his forehead. It looked like he’d passed out after leaving the bathroom.

She was at his side immediately, hoisting him up as gently as she could. (Name) placed him onto his bed and pulled back his bandages. The woman grimaced at the sight.

“Infected, just as I thought.”

The infection wasn’t bad, but bad enough that if it wasn’t treated, he’d die. (Name) thanked god that she kept antibiotics on hand, running to her bathroom and pulling the out of her mirror cabinet.

“Hey, can you swallow? I have some medicine that will help you.”

The man let out a ragged breath, shaking his head. “N… no. Don’t… don’t touch me.”

He was too weak to fight her, but he still refused her treatment. The girl bit her lip before popping one of the pills into her hand and squeezing his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not going to let you die.”

She shoved the pill into his mouth, holding his lips shut as he thrashed, scratching and clawing at her skin. Soon, he lost his strength again and swallowed the pill.

(Name) let go of him, blood dripping down her arms from the wounds he had inflicted. She paid them no mind, leaning him against his pillow and placing a rag on his forehead.

“I’ll be right back with some water and some fresh bandages.”

For the next 24 hours, Feitan was in and out of sleep. Every once and a while he’d feel the cool sensation of water being poured into his mouth, too weak to protest.

(Name) stayed by his side as much as she could, constantly checking his temperature and changing his bandages after applying medicine to his wounds. He’s still bark out complaints and threats, but due to his condition they were now empty.

At one point (Name) was scared he would die, his face turning pale and breathing growing softer. She held his hand through the night, tending to him as gently as she could through his pain.

——————

Feitan woke up to the feeling of someone’s hand in his.

He was still exhausted and weak from the infection, but was able to lift his head enough to see who was holding his hand.

The woman was at his bedside, having fallen asleep while caring for him. Tears fell from her eyes freely as she slept.

Had she stayed with him the entire time? Feitan glanced at his chest, seeing that he was wearing new bandages and a different pair of pants. They were black flannel pajama bottoms, something he wouldn’t usually wear, but comfortable on his sensitive skin.

He noticed his hair had been pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of his face. A rag laid on his forehead to fight his constant fever, the taste of broth on his lips.

This girl had been diligently caring for him through his tantrums and mean words. Could he really keep pretending she was out to hurt him?

(Name) stirred, her tired eyes opening to see Feitan staring down at her with calculating eyes.

“You’re awake-oh sorry.”

She let go of his hand and wiped away her tears. “Sorry, your health declined last night and I was afraid you’d die, so I held your hand. I didn’t want you to… die alone.”

Feitan couldn’t understand her kindness. Her words did something to his chest that he didn’t like, not one bit. He shrugged it off, leaning back against his pillow.

“… you stayed here whole time?”

It was the first time he’d asked her a non hostile question in days. “Yes, of course. You were very sick and needed my full attention.”

He didn’t seem satisfied with her answer, but relented. She leaned closer to look at his face, giving him a sweet smile that unsettled the man more than he cared to admit.

“Are you hungry? I’ll make you whatever you want, if it means you’ll eat.”

Feitan maintained eye contact with her. His body was weak, and he knew he’d need to eat something soon. With the infection and his injuries, he would die if he didn’t consume some nutrients. Although he said he’d rather die than be fed by her, his body wouldn’t allow him to deny his hunger any longer.

“… curry.”

She blinked, leaning back. (Name) tried to hide her excitement over his request for food. “Okay, what kind?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

(Name) was quick to leave after giving him his medicine. He didn’t fight her for it this time, only complaining about the situation.

As she left, his eyes couldn’t help but wander to her bandaged arms, the beginnings of guilt starting to form in his stomach.

——————

“Fei, what was your mama like?”

Feitan and Chrollo sat together under a makeshift shelter, the latter stirring a bubbling pot of soup. Although it was hot, no one ever complained about the food.

They were just kids then, running around having adventures and trying to survive.

“Dunno. Died.”

The young boy didn’t seem to bothered by his own words, looking out into the distance to watch his other friends play.

“Oh. Sorry to hear that.”

A silence fell over the two, Feitan pulling his knees to his chest. When was the last time someone had held him? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t even know if he’d ever been held tenderly, like he was precious to someone.

As he would grow older, Feitan would be able to hide his feeling of loneliness and need for touch, but now he was a child that was struggling to keep it all together.

Chrollo clapped a hand over his back, remaining silent as the boys eyes brimmed with tears.

Feitan always hated that dream. It made him feel soft and sappy, something he perceived as weakness. The Phantom Troupe’s interrogator didn’t have time for such useless feelings.

He had just woken from his dream, the tears that welled up in his eyes pooling down his cheeks. He hated that he couldn’t wipe them away, cursing his heart.

The smell of food cooking caused his stomach to growl. He was now aware that the woman had been slowly feeding him broth over the past few days as he slept, but that was hardly enough to fill his empty stomach.

Feitan watched through the crack in the door as the girl scurried around the house, picking up little messes as she cooked. It was amusing to watch her bump her hip against a counter and gasp before jokingly wagging her finger at it, as if it could feel shame.

He wondered if she’d act so silly if she knew he was watching.

Feitan stood up and opened the door completely. This drew (Name)’s attention, who glanced his direction before going back to working on dinner.

The man stared at her for a moment before going to the bathroom.

(Name) tried to ignore the feeling of his eyes on her, grateful that he left as soon as he did. It was hard to cook when you were being watched.

After leaving the bathroom, Feitan did something that (Name) hadn’t been expecting.

The short man sat at the dinner table, staring at her with unreadable eyes.

To say it was unnerving would be an understatement.

When (Name) turned to ask why he was staring at her, he scowled. “Observing.” was all he said.

She sighed and finished up dinner. If watching her would give him some peace of mind, who was she to deny him?

“Dinners ready.”

She placed a plate of beef curry down in front of him, the smell of the food almost causing his mouth to water. “Here…”

She sat next him, scooting her chair closer. He instinctively shrunk back, like a wounded animal. She only waited for him to calm down, stirring up the food to help it cool down.

“Are you ready?”

He hesitantly nodded, leaning towards her with his mouth open.

The first bite was heaven for Feitan. He didn’t know if he’d ever tasted anything better than the curry he was eating then. After that, he was much more receptive to her feeding him, finishing the plate before he realized it.

“Alright, do you want some more? There’s also some pie in the fridge if you want some!”

He didn’t answer. It was already humiliating enough to be fed by a complete stranger, he didn’t want it to last any longer than it had to.

But his sweet tooth would not agree with his brain.

“Pie.” He stated, staring at the fridge.

——————

After his meal, Feitan retired to his room to sleep. Just walking around was exhausting, he didn’t have any energy to socialize with someone he didn’t really like.

The man stared up at the ceiling, thinking back to her face as she fed him. She didn’t look at him in a condescending way or laugh when the food fell onto the floor because it had been too hot. No, she patiently waited for him to finish chewing his food, and wiped his mouth as if she were taking care of someone she cared about a lot.

Of course, Feitan wouldn’t process that (Name) cared for him, a stranger for a long time. It didn’t make sense to him. Why help someone when you stood to gain nothing?

He watched as she cleaned up the kitchen through the crack in the doorway.

‘Strange woman.’

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

I wonder how Yves would deal with his s/o absolutely hate his guts. Like just one meeting and they already find his existence insufferable for no reason at all.

Another Anon Sent: Me , personally, would find Yves annoying as hell in real life. Mf is too composed

TW: mentions of past physical abuse (on Yves's side)

There is always a reason. Many reasons. The most glaringly obvious one is that if you don't like how he presents himself. Yves's existence already challenged a wide array of norms that had been established since the publishing of the bible. Maybe you don't like that he's a "man", "cosplaying" as a "woman". He knows a lot of people didn't, many of his old scars hidden under his turtleneck are there to prove that. Perhaps he's too good for you, unintentionally reminding you of your own inferiority. Perhaps, like what was described, he is too composed and put together that it seems suspicious.

And he understands that. He cannot please every category of people he comes across. This could mean you hating his entire being and viciously attacking his character for being the way he is. Yves accepted that, but it doesn't mean it hurts him any less. He may try his best to accommodate your wants, he can be malleable but only to a certain extent. His hair and makeup carry the weight of emotions and memories that you can never experience, and his mannerisms make up the legacy of all the crucial fragments of his life. Yves has his own identity and he cannot lose that. Without one, he knows he will fall apart and wither, all of his hard work will be for naught and you will be left unprotected.

Your hatred for him is an integral part of you, developed over years of exposure to your environment. No one is born loathing, it is the buildup of teachings from adults that causes it. As selfish as he is, he wouldn't just expunge it completely from your mind, even if he knows he can rewire your brain to an obedient little thing. That isn't you.

However, tolerance can be learned. If Yves knows you would have hated him upon initial contact, he wouldn't reveal himself too early. You still had years of maturing to catch up. He has time, he can wait. Yves will tailor your experiences, letting you mingle with diversity, and broaden your view of the world. He knows all the buttons, the levers, and the switches in your mind and how he could manipulate them to better you.

Not to say all your friends are paid actors and actresses, Yves doesn't even need to do that most of the time. All he needs is information, about who will be there, when will they be and why will they be there. And just like fate itself, Yves will bring you to them. Change needs to be gradual, the human mind simply cannot take massive shocks.

Maybe you find his tranquility irritating because you didn't grow up seeing that. Your home life could have been chaotic, unpredictable, and constantly needing you to turn on survival mode. Hence, seeing Yves as an anomaly in the world and rejecting the unknown. You're used to the mayhem, not the peace; at least in disorder, you know what to expect.

Then, Yves will give you a frame of reference. You will meet people of varying degrees of collectiveness, with him being on the extreme end of the spectrum. You will see more and more portrayals of similar personalities in the media. Then, surely but slowly, you will change.

Right?

Perhaps, no. You won't. You could stay the same and it would only mean his hypothesis wasn't correct. You might even get worse. And that is alright, this is in no way, shape or form a failure. He still succeeded, he succeeded in obtaining data. This is the scientific method, no outcome is still an outcome. It is this attitude that got Yves to where he is, to the mammoth collections in his office. He will try again, with another experiment design, with another hypothesis based on the last study's results. Why didn't it work? Was there something he missed? Did his bias get in the way? Was he not looking at the big picture this whole time?

Regardless, he will keep going. Each time, he learns something new about you that others may deem insignificant. But could potentially be the determining factor. And he notes it down without missing a beat.

That is why it takes years. That is why you're more likely to meet Yves only later in life. You still need more time to develop your views and you are constantly changing whether you like it or not.

Knowledge may not be the cure to hatred, but it is the cure to ignorance. Yves would do is present the world as best as he can in front of you, and let you think for yourself. To him, the gift of choice is the ultimate expression of love.