#it's not very excessive like his but I felt very relatable to him

[the-box-of-mine]

Melinda and demetrius: splitting and dissociation (part 2)

I was talking in the first part here about Melinda and her splitting episodes. In this part I will talk about the oldest son demetrius.

There's no lie in the fact his appearance was surprising, but also everyone knew that he didn't seem right.

But also he's very mysterious and understanding him is quite a challenge with the very little context we have of him. So let's dive into his character a little.

The unfocused look, very intimidating look, and eyebags under his eyes. Hell yeah, he got freaking 6 stellas and didn't even seem happy about it. He just looked very tired and just wanted to go to rest.

Damian and the rest of the gang approached him, and damian went to congratulate him of his achievement. But it seems that Demetrius looked very intimidating to him so he started to stutter. Demetrius took the lead of the conversation and asked him about his Stella (which indicates that Demetrius is actually looking at the progress Damian does academically, which is the most important aspect of demetrius's life). Normally when asked this type of question, it's normal to say "yeah how did you know?" "Yeah what do you think?". But not damian (my little child seems to struggle)😭, he instantly jumped into "how do you think father would think?" ,which is wrong in different aspects, firstly demetrius is the one who asked about his academics, so it felt very disrespectful to do that. Secondly , knowing how Damian gets annoyed with the girls in his class asking constantly about his father (and he's the second son with less remarkable achievements), I'm sure that Demetrius himself has even worse share in this experience, he doesn't even seem to have friends because he feels in different league, and people either intimidated by him or try to use him to get to his father. Lastly, it's their second time talking to each other in school, and damian still asked him in the same matter (about their father) which really gives an impression that he has nothing to ask about but this. But of course Damian didn't mean that, he's a little child who is trying to reach his family, Demetrius himself seems to have also problems with reaching out to others.

But even then he didn't get mad, even in his mind, he didn't get annoyed at damian, he just swayed away keeping his boundaries without any addition, something that neither Melinda nor Donovan did (imo he still got judged wildly). With one struggling with her emotions and splitting episodes, and deadbeat neglectful dad. Which made me believe that he is the one who has higher chances with having a stable relationship with damian. I talked more about this here but to summarise, demetrius is quite surprisingly patient with damian at most times. Considering their parents and his age too.

Now into his interesting mind, in chapter 93, anya tried reading his mind but got nothing at first, and the things she got was he (I don't understand) questions.

This hit very different seeing chapter 110, when Melinda said Donovan can read mind and even demetrius had been saying that.

A lot of people drew to the conclusion that Demetrius has this habit of blocking his mind since he knew his father can read mind, he restricted himself to not have any thoughts at all, which is very painful to think about, making your child anxious to this point is really a new low truly, donovan.

There had been questions about how this is even achievable, a state of blanked mind of barely any thoughts, Mr green talked a little about it when he was with damian and his friends. But let me explain this more.

What is demetrius doing is very similar to something called "dissociation", it's a state of complete stillness of thoughts, flowing through the stress, you can say it's like putting your mind in an autopilot mode. It's a coping mechanism many people do in response to stress and trauma, and its severity changes from one person to another.

Now it seems very peaceful coping mechanism, but it's a hell itself, it's like getting into a deep hole with, the more you get deeper, the more difficult it's to get out of it. The more time you spend doing it, the more it's hard to keep up with your life and tasks.

I'm pretty sure that if Demetrius had been doing it from a very young age, it means he definitely is having difficulty in keeping his thoughts flowing, and that he is not voluntary and completely controls his mind.

Now, what could happen if someone is dissociating excessively? It leads to many mental disorders and problems. The most insightful of them are (dissociative disorders). The three main disorders are (ranked with severity from lower to higher)

1-Depersonalization/ derealization disorder.

2-dissociative amnesia.

3- dissociative identity disorder (aka called multiple personality disorder in the past but the medical term changed)

Now I'm very sure with the amount of excessive dissociation demetrius expressed (and even indicate he started doing it very early). I'm sure he has derealization disorder, he's very out of touch with himself and feels very separated from his reality ,which is a perfect description of this disorder. I wouldn't be surprised if he had dissociative amnesia, like I wouldn't be surprised if he said he doesn't really remember having dinner with his family in chapter 106 (he really was out of touch and just eating his food, not giving care to the tension felt in that time).

(until now he didn't show any signs of being a system or having DID)

I'm sure he also has different mental struggles other than dissociation, but this one is the clearest one. Him and Melinda showed very clear signs of mental health struggles, I tried to analyse that, I hope that they both heal and get the help they need.

[lunasfics]

Found Family

summary: In which Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent engage in a custody battle over a clone created from both their DNA, or, in which you get saved from a lab and gain two new families who would move mountains for you.

pairing: Bat Family x f! Reader, Supers x f! Reader

word count: 8.2k

preview

a/n: hello! IT'S FINALLY OUT WOOHOO, it's a bit long but i had a lot of fun writing it. certain characters may be a bit ooc so i do apologize as i'm still getting my footing on how to characterize certain people. let me know what you think! constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated (just pls don't be mean lol)! i left a somewhat open-ish ending because i wanna make this into a series/universe, and will start taking requests for drabbles in this universe, depending on how this is received! - luna :)

reblogs are appreciated!

“I’m in. Robin, what’s your status?” Bruce spoke into the earpiece, swiftly moving through the shadows of the lab. It was a simple mission: get into the lab Lex Luthor had created under Gotham City, collect intel needed to take down said lab, and leave. Unfortunately, it’s never really that simple, is it? 

“I’m in, making my way through the west wing, cover is still intact,” Damian muttered back. 

“Good. Nightwing?” 

“Just entered the center lab, heading down to the bottom level now, haven't been spotted,” Dick said, making his way down the steps, careful to remain silent. 

“Good. Remember the objective. In and Out.” Bruce muttered as he continued, searching for the locked file cabinet he was looking for. 

“Files located. Ready for extraction” Damian said quietly through the intercom. 

“I’ve made it to the bottom level. Requesting immediate backup, there's something here you guys need to see” Dick’s voice echoed through the earpiece, “They’ve made another clone.” 

Bruce stopped what he was doing, silently making his way down the hall towards the staircase Dick took around a half hour before, “I'm on my way. Damian?”

“Heading there now. Files are downloaded.” 

Upon arriving at the lower level, Dick bypasses security to let them in, making sure to reactivate the lock behind them, “Look.”

He gestured to the incubation tube not far from them, inside of it stood a young woman, who looked no older than 20, wearing a black skin-tight suit, a familiar “S” symbol adorning her chest, only it was the center of another symbol, the bat symbol, with bat ears at the top and bat wings on either side of it, a dark burgundy color with gold lining along the edges. The plaque below the tube read: 

Attempt 1: G6B24 

Specimen 1: Superman (Identity: Unknown)

Specimen 2: Batman (Identity: Unknown) 

Status: Failed - Shows excessive signs of emotional intelligence (unfit for purpose), Subject is not invulnerable, Lacks thermal vision

‘Emotional Intelligence’ you must have shown hesitation, a moral compass. 

“Father… what are we going to do?” Damian asked, he was at a loss, part of him felt slightly threatened, if you were taken in, he would no longer be the only child related to Bruce by DNA, and you were older, stronger— perhaps you would take his place, the place he’d finally felt he truly belonged; however he remained silent, his past self likely would have attempted to argue against your rescue, but he’d grown, he knew deep down you deserved a chance at this life just as much as he did. 

Bruce looked up at your unconscious figure, at a loss for words, you were his daughter, intentional or not, there was a part of him in you, he only hoped that part wouldn't screw you over for life. As surprised as he was, he had an obligation to you the same way he did with Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Barbara, Duke, Damian, and every other vigilante he had taken under his wing.

His Batman instincts kicked in very quickly though, immediately refocusing himself, reading through the files, in an attempt to prepare himself for any possible scenario, he turned to Dick. 

“Find all the DNA samples they have belonging to both me and Superman, we’re taking them,” he said, making sure to not hyper-focus on the thoughts flooding his mind. 

“We’re not just leaving her here, are we? The plaque says ‘failed’. Who knows what could happen to her?” Dick said, he was frustrated.

Conner had gotten a chance to build a life for himself. You deserved one too, the mere thought of Bruce wanting to leave you there angered him. 

“She’s coming with us. Damian, watch the door, Dick, find the samples," Bruce said gruffly, moving to the tube, bypassing the database to open it, without setting off any system safeguards. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out his shard of kryptonite, just in case it was needed to neutralize you. 

The tube opened slowly, a swoosh sound filling the air as the cold fog escaped the tube, spilling into the air, your eyes fluttering open as you looked around, your eyes focusing on him.

You flew at him, full speed, pushing him against the wall with a thud, knocking the wind out of him, your eyes boring into his, glowing red, just as you were about to terminate him with your heat vision, he uttered the safe word he had seen in your file. 

“Blue Pineapple” he grunted out, the red in your eyes fading away instantly, as you stared at him with wide eyes. You backed away slowly, lowering yourself to the floor. Your eyes fixed on him once again.

You recognized him from your programming, the man whose combat skills were engraved into your mind.

“Batman?” 

Dick and Damian rushed over, making sure Bruce was okay. He was fine.

Dick turned to you, holding out his hand, “Come with me. We need to get you out of here, you aren’t safe here.” 

You stared at him, your eyes narrowing, “Why should I trust you?” 

Dick sighed, Those damn Wayne genetics, he kept his hand extended to you, “Because we’re helping you escape, if you come with us, you can meet Superman, be a hero just like him and Batman, you could actually see the world” he promised. 

"I know what the world looks like." you stated bluntly.

He sighed, his hand not wavering, "But have you ever experienced it? Let us show you what that's like. You can have a life."

You thought for a moment, before letting out a small grunt, nodding at him and taking his hand, allowing them to lead you out of the lab grounds seemingly undetected. 

When you stepped out, you stopped, eyes completely transfixed on the brilliant night sky. Blends of blues and purples and grays danced together to make the beautiful endless abyss above you. You knew every color there was. You knew everything, but at the same time you really didn't. You stared up at the stars, you knew how they came to be, you knew every scientific explanation there was yet seeing them… it made you feel a way you couldn’t explain.

They led you to the batmobile, situating you in the back seat with Damian, starting the drive to the Batcave. Bruce dialed Clark’s number into the keypad, it rang twice before he picked up. 

“Hello?” 

“Meet me in the Batcave. It’s urgent. Bring Conner.”

“What’s going o-”

He hung up. 

Dick covered his mouth to hide his snicker, “So, Bruce, you and Clark have an official love child now, right? What will Lois think?” he feigned concern, placing the back of his hand over his forehead, committing to the drama, “Oh, how scandalous, I mean really, the shame! I can already see the headlines ‘Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne turned common whore after breaking up happy metropolis family’” 

Damian covered his laugh with a cough.

You looked at the three of them, utterly confused, still processing what was going on. 

Bruce huffed, shooting them both a glare, “Dick, be mature.” 

Dick smiled, “I can't help myself, just wait til Jason finds out.” He smiled in excitement, as they pulled into the side entrance of the Batcave. 

Bruce let out a deep, tired sigh.

Clark sat in silence in the Batcave, Conner standing to his left, his eyes wide as he stared at you, possessing some features belonging to both he and Bruce, and other features that seemed to be entirely your own.

You stared back, that same stoic nature radiating off of you that radiates off the Batman, however, he noted the defensive look in your eyes, one so similar to the one he saw in Conner when he first met him. He eyed your suit, noting the familiar “S” symbol, only it was a burgundy color, a rather interesting combination of the Batman and Superman emblems, and he was utterly confused.

He looked over at Bruce, still in his bat suit, his cowl pulled off, “Bruce, what the hell is going on?” 

“I had to call you here because Luthor decided to create another clone. I did the DNA test, Clark, she’s a combination of both our DNA” Bruce looked at him, Dick and Damian standing to his right. It was silent for a moment, you felt like a guinea pig, the way they all stared at you. It made you angry. 

Conner was the first to speak, stepping forward before opening his mouth, choosing his words carefully, “What’s your name?” 

You responded immediately, it felt automatic. “Experiment attempt number one. Code G6B24. I was made to be the future killer of the Batman and the Kriptonian.” 

He nodded slowly, “I’m a clone too, and Clark took me in— well, he took me in eventually— that’s besides the point. He showed me how to become my own person, we can help you do that too.”

You looked at him, eyes softening ever so slightly, but you kept your guard up like your Batman programming taught you to. “I was made to be a killer, if I don’t do what I was made to do, what am I worth?” you said quietly, voice unwavering.

Damian watched you, your words striking him in a way he hadn't expected them to, he understood what you were saying all too well. 

Bruce decided to speak up next, “You were created, it’s not your fault what their intentions were when they did so. What you become from here on out is your choice.” 

You stayed silent, eyes darting around the room—What is this feeling? Vulnerability? You knew it by definition, like you did most other feelings, but feeling them… it was different. 

Dick noted the way you seemed overwhelmed, he approached you slowly, pulling up two chairs, motioning for you to sit, you chose to remain standing until he sat down first. 

“You know, we trust you, we want to figure out a way for you to become the best you can be. On your terms” he said, offering you a small smile. 

You looked around, the others nodded in agreement, “I was made to be only the best parts of you” you said, your gaze focusing on Clark and Bruce, they both put their best qualities forward to help others, how could you use those same qualities to destroy that?

“I… don’t want to be a killer. They said I was too… human. I thought I’d failed them.” 

Damian decided to step forward, “You didn’t fail anyone, you are meant for greater things. You haven't killed anyone, you can choose your path. If the path you choose is the Robin mantle... I am willing to work with that.” 

At this, the other men in the room turned to look at him, Clark and Conner were slack-jawed, this was the same kid who fought Tim tooth and nail over this mantle. The same mantle he was just… willing to give you? 

Meanwhile Dick had a proud smile on his face, you thought you saw a small tear in his eye.

Bruce’s face seemed unreadable, however, you took notice of the way the corners of his lips turned up for a split second. before reverting back to their natural state. 

You weren’t sure what to say, again, you knew what this mantle was, by definition. The reality was you had no sense of what it meant, the weight it carried. And you knew that.

“Thank you, but I feel like that title isn’t mine to take. I think I need to… become something that's true to who I am, whatever that may be.”  

Bruce looked at you, the corner of his lip barely twitching up into a smile, a smile so subtle that only someone of your… background would notice, an attempt of his towards getting you more comfortable, “We should start with a name.” 

You looked at Conner, he gave you an encouraging smile. 

“Like I chose Conner, so now I’m Conner Kent,” he said with a small shrug, “You can choose whatever you want.” 

“I see,” you thought for a moment, “I like Y/n.” 

Clark smiled, standing up and clapping his hands together, “Great! Y/n Kent, has a nice ring to it.” 

“Wayne.” 

He turned towards Bruce, eyes narrowing slightly, “Kent.”

“Wayne.”

This time Conner spoke, “Kent.”

The three men stared at each other, arms crossed mirroring each-other’s glares. 

Dick cut in, “How about Grayson?”

“No.” came their simultaneous response. 

Dick frowned, slumping in the seat next to yours, “Jeez.” 

Damian spoke next, “I suppose Al Ghul is off the table…” 

Dick snorted, breaking out into a fit of laughter, you grinned softly at the sounds of his laughter, it reminded you of a windshield wiper. 

Conner sighed, “Fine, what about Wayne-Kent?”

Bruce huffed, “I suppose.”

Clark nodded, the smile returning to his face as he turned to you, “Y/n Wayne-Kent”

You nodded, “I like it.” 

Dick could help but laugh from beside you, “It's like I'm watching reality tv. Love me some baby mama drama.”

Clark opened his mouth to speak and closed it, before sighing and looking at Bruce, who just pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Conner chuckled at the sight, turning to Damian, who’s lip quirked up in amusement. 

Bruce looked up, his attention directed towards you, “Y/n, you can stay here for the night, I’ve asked Alfred to set up a room for you. Clark, Conner, come by tomorrow with Lois and Jon, I’ve called the others to come by as well, we’ll get everything situated tomorrow. For now, get some rest.” 

Everyone nodded, Clark and Conner heading to the exit of the cave, Damian, Dick and Bruce leading you to the room that was prepared for you. 

Dick brought you a sweater and some sweatpants to change into, closing the door with a soft, “Goodnight, kiddo.” 

You changed in silence, slowly getting under the covers and drifting off to sleep, marking the start of your new life. Tomorrow would be an interesting day. 

You woke up the next morning, to a soft knock on the door, your super hearing picking it up better than you would have liked. You opened the door, revealing an older man you hadn’t seen before. He smiled softly, giving you an instantaneous sense of comfort you couldn’t explain. 

“Hello Miss Y/n. My name is Alfred, I am the butler,” he greeted you, handing you a folded set of clothes, “Master Kent chose these for you, however if they are not to your liking, do let me know.” 

“They’re fine…Thank you.”

He smiled warmly, the kind old man giving you a nod, “Once you've changed, do come down, I’ve prepared breakfast. The other members of the family will arrive soon to meet you.” 

You gave him a short nod, he smiled again, your demeanor reminding him of the young Bruce he’d looked after all those years ago. He shut your door softly before retreating down the staircase, leaving you in your room to change. 

You picked up the small note that rested at the top of the pile, reading it over. 

Comfortable, Practical, and cool. Hope you like it. - Conner

You looked down at the neatly folded clothes, unfolding a black long sleeve turtleneck shirt, the material was thick but breathable, you slipped it on with ease, the foreign material soft against your skin, you appreciated that it didn’t suffocate you. 

You reached for the pants next, dark gray cargo pants, these were thicker, and the had an overwhelming amount of pockets. You slipped them on before slipping on the boots that were at the bottom of the stack and exiting the room, going down the staircase. 

Upon entering the dining room, you were met with Bruce sitting at the head of the table, reading the paper calmly eating his pancakes, to his right sat Dick chatting excitedly to the boy next to him, who smiled at him as he listened, he was a slender boy with black hair who looked a bit younger than Dick. Then there was Alred, calmly enjoying his breakfast. Finally there was Damian on the other side of Bruce, leaving an empty seat between Damian and Alred. You sat down, the pale boy noticing you first. 

Bruce looked up, “Tim, this is Y/n.” 

“Hello.” You sat up awkwardly. One thing you never learned was how to navigate social interactions.

He studied you for a moment, offering you a small smile, “I’m Tim.” 

You gave a nod, returning his smile with a smaller one of your own. 

“She knows, by the way.” Dick chimed in.

His eyes widened, was that why you were there? 

“How?” 

All eyes are on you. You opened your mouth to speak but Damian spoke first. 

“She’s a clone. Father will explain everything when everyone else arrives so as to not waste time, until then, hold on to your childish curiosity. I’d like to enjoy my breakfast.” 

Dick nodded, “She was literally made for this shit.”

“Watch your language Master Dick, it is deplorable to speak in such a way at the table, much less in the presence of a lady.” 

Dick blushed, “Sorry Alfred.” 

Bruce simply gave a nod. 

Tim slumped back in his seat, wanting to ask you questions about your abilities, your earliest memories, who were you a clone of, how your programming worked, the boy was itching to know it all. 

Breakfast passed by relatively quickly after that, you weren’t bombarded with questions, much to your relief. Alfred kindly asked you how you slept to which you replied that you slept well. The sound of casual conversation and glassware scraping together filling the room. You enjoyed observing the atmosphere.

Clark and Conner were the first to arrive at the manor, greeting you happily, with them was a woman and a younger boy, who immediately went to sit by Damian. 

Clark brought them over to you, the woman smiled warmly at you. It made you feel safe. 

She held your hand in hers, “My name is Lois,” her voice was kind, genuine. You noted how she carried herself. Strong, secure, honest. 

Clark was quick to bring Jon over, excited to introduce him, “This is my son, Jon.”

“Hi!”  he beamed at you, you smiled, he was cute. Cheerful as he smiled brightly at you. 

“Hello, my name is Y/n.” you greeted the two, who smiled at you.

Conner was the next to approach, “Did you like the clothes? I picked them out cause it was all I used to wear, but who knows, you may want something more… fashionable.”

You smiled softly, “They're nice, thank you.”

“On that note actually,” Clark said, “I was thinking we can take you shopping later, Bruce and I can pay.” 

Bruce deadpanned, “That’s a joke, right?” 

He smiled, “Of course, you’re paying for everything.”

“Sounds about right.” 

Chatter filled the room not long after, Jon and Damian catching up on the couch while Conner and Tim started a conversation of their own. 

The next people to arrive were three young women, blonde, brunette, and red hair. They had arrived together.

The blonde spoke first, “Why'd you call us here Bruce? We had planned for brunch.” She bitterly narrowed her eyes at him, the brunette behind her giving a short nod of agreement.

Bruce sighed, “We’re waiting on Jason. He’s late.” 

“As always.” The redhead said with a sigh, though you could see she wasn't actually upset.  

The blonde girl turned to you first smiling, “I’m Stephanie, but call me Steph. I’m assuming you’ll be joining our vigilante posse.” She seemed funny, and kind, like she truly cared for those around her. 

“Somewhat, I don’t really know. I’m Y/n.” You said bluntly.

“Pretty name.” She smiled, gesturing to the red haired woman behind her, “This is Barbara, but she's really just Babs.” She then gestured to the brunette, “That’s Cass. She’s lovely.” 

You looked at them and nodded, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Barbara smiled warmly at you, “You too, I’m so glad there’ll be another girl around, we can always use more company.” She smiled at you so kindly, despite having only just met you. Her voice was sweet, like honey. 

Cass smiled softly at you, “Come to brunch with us later. Or, lunch, now since Jason is holding us up.” 

You nodded your lip quirking up into a small smile, “I’d enjoy that.” 

Truthfully, you didn't know what the fuck brunch was. But she said lunch and that you knew. You'd find out about brunch later.

Then, as if on cue, the man in question arrived, walking through the door, slipping off his brown jacket and tossing it on the couch. He was tall, with a stocky frame, jet black hair with a white streak on the front. 

“This better be good.” 

Tim mumbled, “Finally” 

“Miss me Timmy?” 

“Quite the contrary.”

The one called Jason laughed before giving him a small nudge, to which Tim swatted his hand away. 

His eyes fixed on you, then on Bruce. 

“Dude, seriously? Another one? You have a problem man. You’d think you would’ve stopped after me.” 

Bruce stood up, “Jason, sit down. Now that you’re all here I wanted to introduce you to Y/n. She’s a clone, made from both mine, and Clark’s DNA.” 

“Holy shit, man.” 

“Jason, will you shut up?” 

“Never.” 

“As I was saying, she’ll be here in the manor for the time being, I’ll be training her and assessing her combat technique.” 

“Hold on,” Clark interjected, “She should come with us, she needs to get the hang of her powers.” 

“Clark, I have a state of the art training area in the cave.” 

“So? We’re supers, all we need is an open field.” 

“We need to assess her combat skills, and also assess the extent of her powers. She isn’t invulnerable. We need to prioritize getting to the bottom of that.” 

Clark huffed but nodded, understanding the full extent of your abilities was vital in actually training you. 

“It’s like I’m watching a custody battle.” muttered Steph, Barbara laughing quietly beside her. 

“Wait- So Y/n is basically if you and Clark had a baby?” Tim gawked at them, his eyes shifting from Bruce to Clark, to you. When his eyes landed on you, he fired questions like he was on a time limit. 

“How do Bruce’s genetics affect your abilities? Are you immune to kryptonite and invulnerable? How does your thermal vision work? Enhanced strength? Can you fly? Can you fly as fast as Superman? Do you have combat training? How do y-” 

Conner smacked a hand over his mouth, leading him back to his seat, “Lets try not to overwhelm her with the questions.” He chuckled. 

Tim nodded, looking up at you, “Sorry, Y/n.” 

“That’s okay. To answer your questions, his genetics don’t necessarily have a huge impact on any of my abilities, I was created with every available video of Batman fighting embedded into my mind, and the combat skills were engraved in my memory, I should be able to replicate his fighting style to a tee. I’m not invulnerable, but in theory, the stealth I was programmed with allows me to stay agile enough that I shouldn’t often get hurt. I don't have thermal vision, but I do have laser vision, enhanced strength, and flight, although I haven’t tested how fast I actually can fly. And like I said, my combat training is essentially the combat footage uploaded into my mind.” 

Tim had nodded, eyes trained on yours in complete interest as you answered each question, occasionally jotting something down on the notes app of his phone. 

Lois narrowed her eyes slightly at both Bruce and Clark, “I do hope you’re factoring in giving her the opportunity to build an actual social life. Maybe get her enrolled in school.” 

“She has doctorate-level information on several different topics stored into her mind, as well as fluency in 8 languages. I think she’ll be fine, Lois,” Bruce replied. 

She rolled her eyes, “Okay, so school’s not necessary, what about building a social life for herself? That’s important.” 

“There’s Young Justice,” Conner said, “I figured she’d join.” 

Tim nodded in agreement, “I can help her get situated.” 

“Where will I stay?” you asked, you didn’t particularly enjoy how they were all discussing you as if you weren't there, but there honestly wasn’t much you could do. 

“You can stay at the manor, or you can stay with the team, but it'd be best if you lived here in the Manor.” Bruce replied.

“Why isn’t Metropolis an option?” Clark muttered. 

“Because it’s more practical to have her here in Gotham, living with Tim will make it easier to adjust to the team.” 

“I want time with her, Bruce.” 

“You’ll get it. We’ll have her assessed, then three times a week she’ll train and get a hold of her powers with you.” 

Clark nodded, satisfied with that answer. 

Lois spoke again, turning to you, “Y/n, how does that sound to you?” 

You blinked. “It sounds fine. My super hearing allows me to hear every conversation proficiently.”

She chuckled softly, “It’s a figure of speech sweetheart, I meant if you’re okay with everything that was said, you’ve been a bit quiet.”

You felt your face grow hot, “Oh. Yeah, I’m okay with it.”

Clark gave you a fond smile. 

Bruce looked at you and smiled softly, a barely noticeable one, but a smile nonetheless. 

The bulk of the conversation was over. The people in the room falling into easy conversation with one another, you look around, not sure what to do. That is until Jason approaches you, a kind smile on his face. 

“Hey Y/n, I’m Jason, I’ll be honest, you probably won't see me too often cause I can barely stand being around Bruce, but… if he’s ever a dick, call me and I’ll either punch him for you and take you somewhere he’s not.” he grinned, “Or both.” 

You laughed softly, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He nodded, “I’ll be raiding the kitchen, but if anyone asks, I left.” He shoots you a grin before slipping away. 

It’s not long after that when Jon approaches you, Damian by his side, he shoots you a toothy grin, “So, you’re like, my sister now, right?” 

You’re not sure how to respond, but you feel a puddle of warmth pooling in your heart, it’s nice. You smile at him softly, “I suppose so.” 

He grins, “And that would also make you Damian’s sister. right?”

“I suppose so.” 

“See Damian, we’re blood brothers by extension.” 

“Jon, that is the most imbecilic logic I’ve ever encountered. Just because Y/n is both my blood and yours doesn’t mean–” 

“Blood brothers!” He had shouted cheerfully, before walking away and over to Lois to inform her of the good news. 

Damian sighed, though you took notice of the soft smile that flashed across his face, you concluded that he cared for him. 

A lot of people in this family– Bruce’s family specifically, tend to hide affection, despite the fact that it is apparent to you that they feel it. You decide not to focus on it, people are complicated. 

You chat a bit with various people in the room, Lois telling you that you’re always welcome to visit whenever you’d like, Barbara talking to you about how her work as Oracle, Steph telling you all about the other vigilantes you’ll probably end up crossing paths with. Tim and Conner sat by you, telling you all about the team and the people you’ll meet once all your training is done. 

Slowly, people start to leave, you saw Jason slip out the front door first, sending you a wink. Dick left not long after, needing to return to his responsibilities in Bludhaven, making sure to tell you you’re always welcome to visit him over there. Then Clark left with Lois, Jon, and Conner, leaving the residents of the manor plus, Cass, Steph and Barbara.

Damian and Tim had retreated to their rooms, while Alfred busied himself with household chores, Bruce stood up, approaching you before saying, “Did you still want to go shopping? You’ll need training clothes.” 

You nodded, “Yes, please.” 

Steph perked up, rushing towards the two of you, “Oh, we have to come.” 

“Steph, you go shopping every week. With my card.”

Barbara chimed in, “It’s not about that Bruce, you have a terrible fashion sense. We can’t let you impose that onto Y/n.”

Cass nodded in agreement. 

“We’re just buying training clothes.” 

“She can’t wear training clothes in her daily life,” Steph rolled her eyes, “She needs a wardrobe.” 

You smiled, “I would like a wardrobe.” 

“See?”

Bruce sighed but nodded, “Let's go then.”

Steph cheered while Barbara and Cass high-fived behind her, it was an amusing site. 

When you arrived at the mall, Steph immediately linked arms with you, dragging you around to her favorite stores, paying no mind to your super strength potentially being able to accidentally break her arm. It caught you off guard, not only the physical display of affection, but the trust.

Again, you felt that soft puddle of warmth pool in your chest. You could get used to that. 

You had gotten to know Barbara and Cass fairly well during the trip as well, Barbara was sweet, she and Steph made you laugh more than you thought you could. Cass and you got along well too, she picked out the clothes you liked the most, always nodding in approval when you would try anything on, a soft smile on her face. The three of them opened their group up to you so quickly, it had surprised you, you felt that with their company you were better able to navigate finding yourself. 

The four of you hadn’t paid much mind to Bruce trailing behind you as you went from store to store, not that he minded. He held a fond smile as he observed the four of you giggling, talking, and having a good time.

He knew his focus on training was important, but he also knew Lois was right (not that he’d admit that to anyone), you needed a social life too. And he knew your heightened emotional intelligence would surely allow you to obtain that, you just needed to blossom, and allow yourself to break free of the restraints you put on yourself. 

He’d lost count of how many times he had swiped his card that day, at some point he had decided to just start waiting by the front, once you guys were ready, he’d walk over, swipe his card, and you guys would move on to the next shop. He wouldn't say this to anyone, but he enjoyed doing things like this, taking care of the people he cares about. 

The last store you had gone to was WayneTech, it was Bruce’s idea. You needed a phone in order to keep everyone’s contacts. So they brought you there where you got the latest model of their cell phone line, it was sleek and thin. You picked out a case and you got a screen protector. Bruce had told you that once you got to the Batcave he’d input league contacts, safety features, as well as league-level security settings. 

By the end of the trip it was early in the evening, Bruce had his arms absolutely filled with shopping bags, and what he couldn’t carry was carried by you and Steph. The five of you stepped out into the parking lot, the sun setting, casting a deep orange hue on the parking lot. You took in the image in front of you, you didn’t know suns could set so beautifully.

The ride home was nice, the car was filled with the soft chatter of the four of you, Bruce didn’t feel the need to listen in. The soft music playing on the stereo as a background was a nice addition to the atmosphere. 

When you’d arrived at the manor, the girls had bid you goodbye, but not before making sure they had your number to add you to their group chat. You were warned by Steph that Cass’s meme game could not be beat. You were slightly confused but nodded, a happy smile on your face. They each gave you a hug before getting in their cars and heading off. 

The walk into the manor was silent, but not awkward, mainly the two of you taking armfuls of bags up to your room.

As he shut the door, Bruce turned to you, “It’s not too late, if you want, we could start out on some training.” 

You nodded, going into your room to change, “I’ll be down there in a bit.” 

He nodded, walking away to change as well. 

You entered the Batcave shortly after, comfortable in your black sweatpants, and a black long sleeve athletic shirt. Now, having a better opportunity to take it all in, it was massive. You looked to your left to see Damian sparring with Tim in one of the further training areas. You walked over to Bruce, he gave you a small smile, leading you to the second training area by Tim and Damian, who by now had stopped sparring, in favor of observing your skill. 

“You can replicate my fighting style to a tee, right?”

You nodded.

“Let’s see it.” 

You charged first, making sure to suppress your strength, your movements swift and calculated, landing a fast right kick to his abdomen. He sidestepped, landing a swift punch to your side. You kept attempting attacks on eachother, each one dodging the other flawlessly.

Tim and Damian watched in awe as the two of you gracefully moved, as if you were dancing. This went on for several minutes, until you attempted a fast left kick to his side, which he caught, using as leverage to flip you over on your back.

Your limbs ached, you looked up at him, “How did you do that?”

He held a hand out to help you up, “I’m not as fast with my left kicks as I am with my right ones. My weaknesses are your weaknesses.”

You nodded. Made sense. 

“You have good technique, and you replicate my fighting perfectly, but that’s all it is. A replication. You need to make it your own. Adapt it in accordance with your abilities, you can’t do that now because Clark hasn’t trained you, but in time you will.” 

You nodded, your chest swelling with pride at his compliment, you knew after your training with Clark you would be able to better adjust your fighting style.

Damian walked over to you, “Y/n. I’d like to spar, you’ve proven to be a worthy opponent.” 

You nodded, it would be good to spar with someone with a different fighting style. Tim sat down to the side, perfectly content with just observing for now, like earlier, he occasionally jotted down some notes on his phone. You decided you didn’t mind it. It was endearing. 

This time, Damian charged first, landing a swift right kick to your ribs, you turned and landed a hard kick to his chest, sending him back, before he flipped and caught himself, running towards you again. His smaller frame provided him with an advantage as he jumped onto your shoulders, before he could land his blow, you flipped your body, sending him to the floor, landing on his back with a thud. You crouched over him, extending your hand.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” he took your hand, getting up to his feet, you gave him a soft smile, which he returned, giving you a nod of approval. He, like Bruce, didn’t often use his words, but you were able to discern their intentions just fine. 

Bruce then led you to a machine he had in the cave, where it analyzed your genetics in comparison to Clark’s, he had determined you were missing the genetic composition that happened to be the main source of invulnerability, therefore the reason you were the way you were. You are unfortunately still weak when exposed to kryptonite. 

You were tired by the end of the night. You felt you had bonded with Damian, he had asked you to spar with him another time, to which you agreed.

The next day, Bruce had sent you over to Smallville, where Clark had decided on training you, ‘A good old fashioned open field’ were his exact words.

He made sure to send you wearing your original suit, not knowing how fast you would be flying, just in case, only you didn’t like it, so you opted to wear some sweats over the suit. 

And there you were, floating about 300 feet in the air with him, as he explained the basics of flying. 

“You want to create your own leverage, using your flight, you should be able to do this.” He bent one leg, tilting to the right as he effortlessly glided in that direction, he repeated the action only now going in the opposite direction. 

You nodded, imitating his movements, gliding from side to side before stopping and looking at him. He smiled brightly at you, “You’re doing great, kid. There was never a point where you didn’t have powers, so this should be easy. Now, we’ll test your speed.” 

You nodded, “How are we doing that?”

He pulled out a stopwatch, “I’m going to wait here while you fly to Gotham and back. You know the route?” 

You nodded. 

“Okay… and…. Go!”

You immediately shot forward, a slightly bumpy start but your body adapted immediately, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and a smile spread across your face as you made a U-turn around Gotham, making it back to Clark in seconds. 

“2.6 seconds. That’s good.” He smiled at you. 

You went on like that for the next few hours, him giving you encouraging words of advice, and you gained better control over your abilities, him providing you with tips he learned over the years. For that last hour, Jon and Conner joined the two of you, the four of you eventually just playing air tag until Martha and Lois called you in for dinner. 

They insisted you stay for dinner, and you had no mind to refuse, spending time with them was nice. Jon insisted he sat next to you at dinner, excitedly talking your ear off about whatever he’d gotten to that day, and sharing his favorite stories about Damian with you. He acts like he doesn't like people, but he’s got a soft spot for a lot of us, were his exact words. You honestly completely agreed, you smiled at him as he continued talking. 

That day you’d gotten to know Martha and Jonanthan Kent, who insisted you called them Ma and Pa. They instantly coddled you as if they’d known you since birth, though, in a way, that is technically the case. 

They didn't let you leave empty handed, sending you off with tupper-ware filled with leftovers, cookies and pie. You thanked them for their hospitality and headed back to the manor. 

The next few months were mainly doing morning and evening training with Bruce, occasionally Dick would stop by to train with you, always telling you he was proud of your improvement, which never failed to make you glow just a little brighter with pride. He’d begun a tradition where he would treat you to a burger after training, or whatever it was you were craving. He said that it was his goal to get you to try every fast food joint in Gotham, deciding that it was just an essential part of living there. You quickly decided you hated fast food, but never said anything because that wasn’t at all what mattered to you, what mattered to you was the bond you were creating with your older brother. 

Your relationship with Bruce wasn’t perfect. There were times you saw how focused he was on his mission, neglecting the feelings of those around him, he could be an asshole. And with you still navigating your emotions, you’d get angry and yell, and so would he. If you saw him brushing off Damian, or Tim, one look at the crestfallen expressions on their faces was enough to get you angry. You shouldn’t have been surprised, truthfully, you weren’t. You were too similar. You were just fortunate enough to be surrounded by people early on who could convince you to let them in. 

Regardless of the imperfections between you and Bruce, you knew he cared. He always showed it with the small smile he’d give you as he held up two tickets to the movie you had wanted to see. Or in the way he’d lure everyone into the living room with snacks for a movie night. Or how he’d try his best to always express to you that you were doing well. That you were enough, and that you deserved to be there. 

You’d grown closer with Tim, too, always willing to help him with his assignments (not that he often needed it, but on the rare occasions his sleep deprived self couldn’t wrap his head around a problem). You’d often go to him when you needed help figuring something out on your phone, to which he would offer a simple solution you hadn’t seen before.

Tim was kind, he showed he cared for you by fixing things, when you cracked your screen protector by accidentally tapping it too hard, he made you a new one that could withstand the force of a bullet. He learned to confide in you over time, telling you about Bernard, expressing his worries to you about whether or not he’s good enough. You’d always tell him he was more than good enough. 

Damian had taken to calling you ‘sister’, often challenging and teasing you when he could, you’d developed a relationship where he’d go to you for company. You’d sit in the garden and take in the life around you, while he sat a few feet away and drew it.

Once, he drew you while you weren’t looking, when he finished, he handed it to you without a word and walked away. In the bottom right corner you read ‘Y/n Wayne-Kent’ in neat handwriting, just below that, ‘sister’. That was the first time he’d used that word for you. Your heart swelled. 

You continued seeing Steph, Barbara, and Cass, regularly having lunch with them and talking with them on the phone. Barbara, or as you now called her, Babs, was always there to guide you when you needed it, she’d often send you small gifts from time to time, like jewelry that reminded her of you.

Cass and you would often find the most peaceful company in each other. She would listen to you talk about all the things you'd been learning, telling you about her own experience adjusting to a new life.

Steph and you bonded over poorly written hallmark movies, she always giggled madly when you would point out plot inconsistencies, wearing the most confused expression she had ever seen on a person, you didn’t understand why at first, you would just state facts, but you always enjoyed the time with her. She always says you guys should start a podcast, and you always agree. You hope she never asks you what a podcast is... because you genuinely didn't know.

True to his word, you didn’t see Jason often, but there were a few instances  where you felt particularly suffocated by Bruce’s training that you took him up on his offer to take you somewhere he wasn’t. Those moments were... nice. Every time, he would bring food, and take you to his apartment, where you talked about books and he introduced you to some of his favorite movies. You didn’t know why he and Bruce didn’t get along, but you chose not to pry.

Alfred had taken a liking to you instantly, he enjoyed giving you etiquette lessons, and would bake all kinds of scones and cookies for you to try. His humor was at times very dry and sarcastic, which never failed to make you laugh. He taught you how to bake once, finding you were exceptionally good at it, ‘Miss Y/n, I think we’ve found your natural talent’. You hadn’t expected to be good at it, but Alfred said you were phenomenal. 

You’d also train with Clark 3 times a week, getting even closer with the Kents, integrating yourself in both families. It was interesting being part of two very different families. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Clark had shown you a lot about your powers, but it was never just training. It had become a necessity for the two of you to fly to some famous landmark and have lunch together, before flying back to Smallville for more training.

Clark was constantly trying his best for you, he still had his regrets from his initial relationship with Conner, and although he was forgiven and their relationship was rebuilt, he knew he lost time. And he absolutely refused to repeat that and hurt someone else who didn’t deserve it. 

You always stayed for dinner, you found that you could never say no to Jon, the one time you tried was awful, you felt so bad that you went back the next day and took him shopping. With Bruce's card, duh.

Jon was stuck to you like glue whenever you were over. He always insisted on sitting by you and talking to you about whatever he’d been up to. He flew around with you a lot, you guys would play games that he taught you how to play. Your favorite moments were when he and Damian would allow you in to watch them play video games because ‘How do you not know how to play video games? That’s just wrong. We’ll teach you.’

Conner had spent more and more time with you as well, telling you about a lot of social cues, the importance of boundaries, etc. He was determined to help you adjust in every way he could, he shared his experiences with you when he first started working in teams. You learned a lot from him, he was very affectionate with you, but in that awkward-older-brother way. He’d give you a soft pat on the back and a smile, he knew you’d do just fine. 

Lois became your role model, you truly admired her. She was strong, outspoken, confident. She helped you not be afraid of forming your own opinions and voicing them. One time she saw you yell at Bruce over something he’d done, and all she could do was smile proudly.

These people whose lives you just appeared in one day, very quickly became your family. Every day you were reminded of how lucky you were to have come to care for them as much as you do. Bonding with them was nice, and you very quickly understood the appeal of having family.

These are people who care for you unconditionally, simply because they want to. Because every moment that they spend with you, they choose to.

And just like that, you were ready to meet the team. You had learned to combine your combat skills with your powers, if you need to, you can fight in mid air. You’d learned to incorporate your abilities into your technique to enhance your own personal style. And it felt amazing.

You knew every possible way to deliver an effective, non-lethal blow.  Of course, you needed a suit. Bruce offered to enhance the one you had worn the day they rescued you, but you wanted a new one. To you, that suit represented what you were created to be, and that is not who you are. You wanted something true to yourself, and he understood and wholeheartedly supported you. Damian helped you make a sketch, and together you’d designed the perfect representation of you. And you became Eclipse. The alignment of two heroes, though unintentional, created a whole new hero. You.

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[madhattervanessa]

Care

Summary: A bad day.

Warnings: uhm, depression naps, loss and regaining of appetite, excessive sleeping, Simon lets himself in, fluff

Words: 1169

A/N: This is very self-indulgent but I felt like posting it anyways. Sending love to anyone who can relate.

Requests are open as always.

Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

-

You let your water glass clink against the sink and move back towards the sofa. The morning sun is barely peeking through the curtains but you feel tired.

The walking pad you had gotten remains unused as you lie down.

Everything hurts. There are days like this, where it just does and a bone-deep tiredness just blinds you, pulling you to sleep, even though you had already slept for 10 hours.

It’s no use trying to resist.

So you sleep, again, curled up on the couch under your blanket.

It’s already enough that you don’t go to work but when Simon texts you, asking where you are, it makes you hide underneath the blanket even more.

You don’t want to bother anyone with your sudden, overwhelming sadness, is what you text back. You really don’t.

Another text.

You ignore it.

When you wake up again, it’s well into the afternoon, almost approaching evening.

At least you feel comfortable now, still tired and sad, but comfortable.

The creak of your front door makes you freeze, going completely stiff, as the door falls back into its lock.

The heavy footsteps are familiar and you tug your blanket away from your face just in time to see Simon appearing in the kitchen.

He doesn’t say anything, just stands in the door frame for a moment.

He approaches with care. It's like you can feel his heavy gaze on you as he rounds the couch and comes to another halt right in front of you.

And then he produces a paper bag and puts down a steaming paper cup (a little cardboard sleeve already wrapped around it), right in your eye sight, on the coffee table.

You furrow your brows and already feel tears gathering in your eyes. So you ruck the blankets a little higher. The dull sound of your water bottle hitting the wood of the table follows.

He puts the paper bag down, too.

Then, he just turns on his heel and leaves again, locking the door behind himself.

You fall into an uneasy slumber after that, but manage to take a few sips of the drink he had brought you, before hiding underneath the blanket again.

The next time the door opens, he locks it behind him.

The warm, savoury smell of food wafts through the air but this time, Simon’s footsteps are so quiet, you wouldn’t know he was inside if you hadn’t heard the lock turn, moving through your kitchen like a ghost.

You sigh and push your nose deeper into the cushions.

You jump when you feel Simon sitting down on the couch, already having nodded off again.

He wordlessly checks how full the water bottle and the paper cup are, before gently pushing them to your side and setting down the crinkly, white plastic bag in his hand. It clinks metallically as it hits the table and your eyes automatically follow the movement of his hands.

He unpacks a plethora of black boxes, some of them steaming, some seeming cold.

You recognize the packaging immediately- your favorite sushi place.

You can feel your mouth salivate a little, a sudden ache pulsing behind your eyes that reminds you that you had barely had breakfast before you had slept for another eternity.

He puts down two beers and one of those yuzu lemonades you like to get sometimes, before he eventually leans back. He glances at you before demonstratively patting the cushions, obviously searching for the remote.

You huff and carefully extend an arm out of your cocoon to reach for it. 

He hums when you give it to him.

When he opens his beer with one hand, you instantly realize that you desperately need to go pee.

Simon’s gaze follows you, as you get up and quickly retreat to the bathroom.

As soon as you are back, you stop in your tracks.

Simon has spread out all of the food on the table, containers opened.

Additionally, he has put a blanket on himself, his legs spread invitingly.

You chew on your lip and hesitate for a moment.

He wordlessly flips the blanket open and meets your eyes.

You keep chewing on your lip but you are cold and you know Simon is a walking heater. 

So you cave and crawl into the offered space.

Simon manhandles you until you are comfortably sitting back against his chest.

He is quick to positively swaddle you in the blanket, making sure to fold the edges down underneath your feet. On screen, a trashy dating show is already on, running on low volume.

He grabs one of the boxes and wordlessly deposits it on your lap. You quickly notice a second pair of chopsticks lie in the box as he starts to eat.

It takes him getting through just one of the takeout boxes for you to grab hold of the chopsticks and start getting into a few of the side dishes, before you eventually start picking out your favorites from the other boxes. Behind the armrest of the couch, Simon carefully collects them in another bag as soon as you are both done with them.

As the show goes on, you eventually come back to doing your little quips, commenting on who you think is a toxic asshole and how the women deserve better. Simon grunts his approval or murmurs something about those bloody idiots, while steadily making you eat up the rest of the food.

With your belly full and your mind busy with the trashy tv show, you don’t even notice the time passing. Simon keeps you warm, his hands constantly rubbing over your skin, petting at your waist, wrapping his arm over you, rubbing his cheek against your temple.

When the last episode finally wraps up, Simon turns you in his arms until you can nuzzle into his neck.

He lets his hand stroke over your back as you try your best not to let the weight of the day get to you again, the aching emptiness.

He just holds you, silently. Providing you with the steady up and down of his breathing and the blissful absence of any questions.

Eventually, his hand wanders up to gently wrap around the nape of your neck, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb in slow circles over your scalp.

“D’you want me to stay over?”

You don’t answer.

You do, you desperately do, but this already feels like you have required too much of him. All of your thoughts are circling around being a burden, not even being able to open your fucking mouth-

“Tell you what”, he mutters, “‘m gonna watch a few episodes of a show I wanna see. Finish my beer. You just stay there and keep me warm and comfortable, yeah?”

You make a non-committal sound.

He switches on some sort of moody, crime focused show and keeps petting you. His thumb strays from your hair to your pulse every now and then, gently stroking over it, until your eyes eventually fall shut and you drift off.

-

[reshinless]

(dom) stoner!kinich high sex pretty pls.... ‼️😣

i dont know what being high is like so pls forgive me if this doesn't make sense :3 fair warning this is kind of over 1k words (I think) +mostly smut

dacryphilia if you kind of squint, gn!afab!reader (no specified prns)

kinich often got high, and always offered you some. but obviously you never obliged, wanting to stay clean for the rest of your life.

you were there every time he did something, anything related to it—and you've always said to stop, yet he simply nods and continues doing it anyway.

he says it's for relief, and other times he says it's for fun.

but one night you get a little curious.

"kin'." you poke at him as he hangs his head back, manspreading into the chair, brushing excess dust away from his nose.

"mmm?" oh he was definitely into it. clear in his voice—a much more different tone was laced, yet he was still coherent, and able to reply. he wasn't the type to take too much of it anyway.

he took a drag from the white powder-like substance on the table- it was cocaine, as well as a quick puff from his cigarette, watching as he let out the huff of smoke away from you. he knows you don't really like it, which is why he was stunned at your sudden question.

"can.. can i try?" your voice was light, with a sense of curiosity. "oh, pretty, you know that curiosity killed the kitty right?" he let out a deep chuckle, you could hear the smokiness in the rasp of his voice. he had offered you a few times before, but seeing your clear distaste for such matters, he didn't try to push it any further.

"please? just once." he let out a laugh at your silly little pleading. "you sure, kitty? this seems to be a bit strong for people who are new to it." "just lemme try some!"

he reluctantly lets you near him, letting you sit near him so he can briefly put it into your mouth. at first, you sneeze at the sudden smell of tobacco. kinich can't help but let out a raspy chuckle at your cute reaction. "too strong?" "no, I'll... I'll take it!"

as you take in your first puff, it definitely felt a lot different than what you imagined. your emotions felt so... enhanced. emphasizing specifically lust, is it possible to lace a cigarette with an aphrodisiac?

well, whatever was inside it got his head buried between your thighs, while your fingers threaded, and grasped at his hair. your drunken little moans definitely only got him more pussy drunk, and drowsy. he couldn't tell if it was the tobacco smell in the air that influenced his taste, or if your essence just tasted that good.

whatever that cigarette was, it definitely enhanced whatever he felt, as well as yours. you could feel his determination to suck you dry with the way his tongue glided over every sport, fuck he hit everything alright...

he held your hips close, not letting you go just yet, no he had to get every little crevice, every little drop he could. he didn't know what the hell was he tasting but archons was it close to celestia. whatever that was.

you couldn't help but spew out pathetic mewls, it was your own fault you took the silly little dust into your system. even as you came right onto his face, you still wanted more.

fuck, squirting into your best friend's mouth like this, it was unethical! so dirty, and naughty, why were you still entertaining these stupid fantasies you had, finally letting these dreams come true.

before you knew it, he was already flipping you onto your back to fuck your tight entrance into oblivion!! he circled his finger around the very rim of your entrance, aching- almost asking for more.

it throbbed harder as you felt him enter with one digit. clenching harshly onto kinich's fingers, he let out a groan. "s'tight... and it's just my fingers..." your back instinctively arched against them, how he was obviously curving the tips of his fingers into that one spot you loved so much.

before you knew it- you were already creaming onto his very palm. the overstimulating feeling from just reaching your peak about five-ish minutes ago by his talented tongue, and now by just as talented fingers.

gosh it's always him and his heightened senses that mixed well with his excitement. his hurriedness almost shocked you frozen—yet your eyes continuously rolled to the very back of your pretty little head, his digits only fastened the pace.

his tongue licked a long stripe all over your nape as a way to tease you, as you slowly calmed down from the exhilarating feeling you had just experienced—but he didn't want you to rest just yet.

his hand leaves the ripe, soft hole. looking back up at him as if to ask for more, and oh would you be getting more.

as if dragging your hips to attach to his, he believed your legs weren't spread far enough; lifting up one of your soft legs onto his shoulder for support.

you were almost already accustomed to his wildness and let your arms go numb beside your head, as his slowly started to enter inside.

you didn't know what to do- but it felt like you had to hold onto something—now wildly grasping onto the sheets below you as your head buried further into the mattress. fuck you felt like you were being split apart right then and there!

"ahhh- kin'- fffuck it hurts..." with you eyebrows knit and a loud wail comes from your throat, he leans down to whisper how he knows that you can take it.

"c'mon I promise it'll feel good once I'm in, pretty..." each word he said, an inch entered inside you—fffuck he loved how you stretched over him so well.

"damn, you're so tight baby- ahh sssshitt..." he stops midway just to admire the little tears that trickled in the edges of your eyelids, and how your hands flailed everywhere, you yourself didn't even know where to place your fingertips on, his neck or the bed itself.

his loud groan didn't help as he pushed the last few inches into, making you shudder- your back ached as it arched once more. almost screaming his name, and lands one of his hands onto your mouth—a finger over your mouth.

"you remember we have guests over, yeah? not too loud now, baby." cold fingertips wipe your tears away, a smirk grows on his expression.

working himself in and out of your hole with a calm pace, knowing that you weren't too used to him—not to mention his size. your little mewls, shit are you begging him to rearrange your insides right now?

he admits that he had fantasized this before, and for as much as he wasn't a virgin while doing this with you right now—he can admit all the girls he fucked he only thought about you the whole time.

and not to mention how turned on he was right now- the mix of getting to fuck you and the drug he took, actually no aside the actual drug, fucking you was the drug.

he'd overdose on it if he could. if he always got to see how you would furrow your brows, your cute little eyes roll to the very rear of your head, and getting to feel your soft skin on his.

the sound of skin slapping against each other was loud, and vulgar, and probably enough to get the attention of your guests outside. even so, you still attempted to hide your wails of pleasure.

before you realize it- you've came onto him for the third time this night, as he finishes inside you as well. squirting everywhere— some of it getting onto his chest, and a bit on his face. his own head throwing back in pleasure, barely holding in his own noises, attaching your hips to his for a bit.

"f- fffuck... never seen anyone squirt like that before. y'wanna do it again?"

[twilightt-fantasy]

stress relief [v.kings]

description: the kings worry that their mate is pushing herself too hard.

requested by: n/a

warnings: uhhh none? maybe suggestive content??

this is totally self indulgent bc i just took my state boards for nursing and let me tell you all, i was stressed and definitely could have used these 3 in my life haha. enjoy!! :))

her head was pounding, eyes straining from re-reading the same question that laid in front of her over and over again. the computer screen seemed to get brighter with every passing second, the words jumbling together as she scrambled through her thoughts to find the correct answer.

she had been at this for hours - the never ending cycle of studying and reviewing that she had been stuck in for weeks now. she couldn’t help it though - every moment that passed where she wasn’t studying felt like a waste of time and, with the help of her overthinking, she was convinced that taking a break would mean not passing.

and she refused to accept anything less than a passing result on her test.

this was the biggest test of her life, after all. she had spent years in college preparing for this moment and was terrified now that it was here. this was the moment that defined if she was capable of putting all of her earned knowledge to the test and being competent in her field.

in her eyes anyway.

her kings disagreed with her.

caius, marcus, and aro all agreed that she had this test in the bag. how couldn’t she? she was incredibly smart and driven and had worked her ass off for years to be the best that she could be. there was no doubt in any of their minds that she’d pass and they had each tried to convince her of that multiple times.

but of course, their mate was nothing if not stubborn, and had a hard time seeing reason when she was under this much stress.

the test was in three days, which meant even more time studying and preparing and more migraines, irritability, stress and anxiety.

she reread the question again and then the answer choices, racking her brain for the answer before finally deciding on her best guess and sighing. the girl reached up to rub her temples with one hand, her other reaching for the glass of water to drink in an attempt to settle the pounding behind her eyes.

behind her, aro watched his mate with narrowed eyes. as one of her mates, he easily picked up on her emotions and was not very pleased with the amount of stress she had placed on herself as of late. she had always been an overachiever in school, always had bad test anxiety and held herself to high standards in relation to grades. but to him, this was excessive.

“how many more questions do you have until that test is over?” aro asked, catching the full attention of both caius and marcus, who were only half paying attention before.

“i don’t know.” she mumbled, answering the next question easily before moving on.

caius rolled his eyes from his spot on the bed before he flashed over behind his mate, the girl not even flinching at his sudden appearance. he peered over her shoulder at the screen before turning back to marcus and aro and holding up five fingers.

caius sat back then, the three of them waiting patiently as she finished the practice exam and viewed her passing result before he sat back up and turned off the monitor.

“hey!” she spun around, her red-rimmed eyes glaring hard at caius. “what are you doing?”

“you’re done.” he said, sternly. “you’ve been at this for hours and it’s nearly midnight. you’re done.”

“no.” she spoke back, her voice raising as she pointed a finger back at the screen. “my test is in three days and i’m not ready.”

“yes you are.” marcus argued before caius could answer with something that wouldn’t help the situation. “and taking a break to sleep is not going to affect anything anyway, especially when you can hardly focus on the questions.”

a lump grew in the back of her throat but she fought past it, ready to argue some more. aro raised his hand, before standing himself and moving beside caius. he gripped her hand is his, his other moving up to rest on her forehead. she sighed, the coldness of aro’s skin relieving the headache she hadn’t fully realized she had.

“cara mia, please take a break. eat a snack, take a nap. and the next two days you can study for a few hours at a time.”

“aro…” her eyes were pleading as she looked up at him but he wouldn’t give in. marcus had appeared to grab her other hand and aro moved back as marcus pulled her out of the chair.

“no arguing, dearest.” marcus pushed her towards the bathroom in their shared rooms, dropping her hand in order to turn on the shower. “take a shower and relax. when you get out, we can do whatever you want for the rest of the night.”

she seemed to debate it, her heavy eyes darting from between her kings to the shower, her lip disappearing between her teeth. “you three are free tonight?”

“for as long as you need us to be, tesoro.” caius answered and the girl sighed again, rolling her shoulders and neck as she did. she stood silent for a few more moments, before the weight of her exhaustion finally hit her and she stepped closer to her kings.

her head fell onto marcus’ chest and his hand reached up to her hair, fingers curling through her strands as she stood there. caius and aro joined them a moment later, aro’s fingers gently massaging the back of her neck while caius kissed her shoulder.

“get in the shower, love.” caius spoke again as steam began to fill the bathroom. “afterwards, no more thinking about that test until tomorrow.”

“okay.” she murmured, pressing a kiss to each of their lips before finally moving towards the shower.

the three left her to relax, barely making it back towards the main living quarters before they heard her call out. “if you’re so worried about how stressed i am, you three could help me find a little relief!”

they were back in the bathroom in the blink of an eye.

* a few days later*

“i passed! i passed! i passed!” an excited voice echoed down the corridors, growing closer and louder with every word. fast footsteps pounded down the hallway towards the throne room, where the three kings sat conversing before the next trial.

the three kings shared smiles as their human mate continued to approach the throne room and they stood to greet her, each of them wearing a proud smile and assuring her that they never doubted her for a second.

[dropsnectar]

Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x Afab!reader

PART FOUR

So I know I said this part would have smut but it would just mess with the pacing, so the whole next section is where you will find your spice. This part is a little shorter for that reason. Anyway, I hope you like!

When you woke up, you felt incredibly warm. Your legs were tangled up with… someone elses? You would say it was someone else but human skin didn’t feel like this. It was firm and a bit fuzzy, but not like hair.  Your nose was being tickled by… fur? Whatever it was smelled amazing. 

You recognized this scent. You opened your eyes to Lyith’s round, sleeping face. His impossibly big eyes were closed, revealing his long blonde lashes. His expression was serene, and a bit of drool had escaped his half open mouth. Your sleep-addled brain vibrated with excitement. He was so cute you could just kiss him… 

Nope! Awake brain was working now, bringing some clarity to your head. Lyith and Rena had made a habit of covering your face in kisses but it had all been platonic. Excessive affection was a Bee-men trait. Probably? You thought back to yesterday, when he had kissed you and you had kissed him… was that truly platonic? 

There was a heat in your stomach, butterflies whenever he would hang off of you or tease… A part of you wanted to face these feelings but you weren’t ready yet. After all, how could a bee-men be with a human? You had heard of monster-human relations being something that could happen, but was their species even compatible with you? Was there a future there?

“You're thinking awfully hard for 8 in the morning.” Lyith breathed next to you. 

 Your awareness returned to you, and you were very cognizant of the fact that he had been holding you in his sleep. You pulled yourself back a bit so you couldn’t feel his breath on your face. He narrowed his eyes and his lip jutted out. A childish but cute pattern of his.

“W-What are you doing in my house?”

His mouth twitched. “You are a sick person. You should have someone to look after you. I’m  glad though, you only slept for a day this time.”

You looked at him, eyes squinting, “Are you okay though? Don’t you need to be at the hive for your… bee duties?”

Lyith sputtered at you, his body rocking with laughter. “And tell me, what are “bee duties”, Little witch?”

Your cheeks heated and you sat up, crossing arms over your chest.

“I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be in trouble, is all. What exactly is your duty in the hive anyway?”

Lyith stared up at you under his long lashes. “I am a forager. A scholar. An ambassador who goes to human town to get our supplies. Actually..”

He brought himself up and stretched out his wings. They seemed sturdy enough not to get too bothered by him laying on them all night.

“.. I used to know your grandmother. She used to let me forager her garden. Of course, she was a lot more sparing with her magic, so it was nothing like what you do.” He gave you a pointed look, “But she taught me how to speak human. An interesting person, your grandmother. We used to buy seeds for flower monsters off her. She must have had quite a life.”

You stared at him in surprise. Your grandmother had always been somewhat of a stereotypical grandmother. She’d spoil you and laugh at your jokes, leave little candies in your pocket when you weren’t looking. You had never imagined her to be the type of person to deal with Flower Monsters of all things. It also explained why Lyith seemed so trusting of you, off the bat.

“Hey Lyith?” You breathed out, trying not to think about how your legs were still touching.

“Yes?”

“Do you want some breakfast?”

***

After that, you saw Lyith almost everyday. He made a point of stopping to talk to you every time he visited your garden. Once a week he would take you to see Rena and you would work more magic over the plants. As the spring progressed into summer, the flowers changed. You learned that your magic, while creating magical nectar, only stayed within the plant and not the soil. You were right in your worry that a different approach was needed.

You met a lot more of the hive, as on their days off, some Bee-men would come and watch you work on the flowers. Not all of them were able to speak human, but they communicated their gratitude through sharing their emotions. As you experienced this more and more, you started to pick up on what could even be counted as them asking you questions. You’d try to answer in kind, putting a hand on their arm or shoulder and trying to push images or feelings at them. This worked only half the time, but when it did, the Be-men would look so pleased they would dance. 

Rena, had always seemed a bit jealous by this.

“Why don’t you speak to us like that? We speak human for your convenience you know. Aren’t I closer to you then some random creature?”

“Don’t call your hive mates ' creature’, that's rude.”

Rena would get up in your face, throwing her arms around your shoulders and touch her nose to yours. In your mind you would feel her jealousy. A possessiveness that you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy about. You tried to straighten out your feelings, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Then, you’d try to project some calm, warm energy at her. She just looked at you, sighing.

“You humans are a lot more dense than I thought.”

 Then she’d buzz off to deliver her nectar to the hive, leaving you behind in the company of her Hive mates. Lyith and Rena had been giving you more space lately when it came to your magic. You’d take more breaks, and often were given time to socialize. The Bee-mens youngest hive mate, Haven had grown especially fond of your company recently. He was your friend in gossip. 

Rena and Lyith had a habit of glossing over the issues of the hive, but Haven was very different. He would answer any question you could think of. You had learned that Rena and Lyith were actually pretty high up there in the social hierarchy, as they were both scholars who taught the rest of the hive in their free time. 

He was also very honest about the struggles of the hive.

“It's been about two decades since the last Queen died. We were having some issues with ambassadors from hives from the northern hive when a squirmish broke out. A lot of Bee-men died that day. Several of the Queen's favorite drones passed on and upon hearing the news her heart gave out.”

“Immediately? She wasn’t sick?”

“Do humans get sick before they die of heartbreak? For us it is impossible. Our bonds are our happiness. Without each other, our home isn’t a home, but an empty structure…” Haven trailed off, his expression wistful.

“But what was the squirmish about? I thought Bee-men were a friendly species.”

“You see, the two Queens had been sisters. The Northern Queen never liked our late matriarch and had been up to some mischief. She had convinced the Bunny Hybrids and the werewolves to move out of our territory. Eventually, the flower monsters left as well, and all the magic in the area just… disappeared. And Queens usually travel and make their own hives, or pick up abandoned ones. We’ve been waiting for so long!”

“Thats got to be hard. I mean, your guyses population can’t grow right?”

Haven looked at you weird.

“It’s more than that! Our Queens Pheromones give our magic structure! Without a Queen our magic grows weak and it's harder to communicate! Even making our honey properly becomes difficult because our grasp of our magic slips. We are so lucky we found you, little witch! Your magic is so easy to convert. I told you, you are a blessing!”

“But if you guys haven't been able to make honey properly for a while, how have you survived?”

“We haven’t. It's like your mana sickness. Sometimes our magic just eats us up.” You stared at Haven, your stomach turning. Haven looked at you sadly. “You should know this. Your Lyith and Rena have been sheltering you way too much. You're basically part of the hive at this point.”

You reached forward and hugged Haven. He trilled happily. 

“Honestly it could be so much worse!”

You spent the rest of the day in silence. You had known they were starving, but you hadn’t realized how badly. Something else didn’t sit right with you either. The fact that the monster races had left their territory had been something that had been bothering you. That had to be the reason why the soil wasn’t absorbing magic, right? That was the only thing that had changed?

Then it hit you. What was soil? It was broken down waste. No Monsters. No decay. No shit. And how did the Bee-men manage their own waste anyway? Could you do something with this? Could it really be that simple? 

You got so excited to tell Rena about it that it surprised you when you saw her at your door. Rena never made the trek to your house, saying that human civilization had a terrible smell to it. When you saw her face, she was crying.

“You have to come with me. Now.”

“Rena whats wrong, are you--”

“It's Lyith.”

All you could hear for a moment was the large thudding of your heart. Without another word you jumped into Rena’s arms and she held you, giving you a huge squeeze before buzzing off into the forest.

Part Five (Beware NSFW)

[captainheartcollector]

Doubts

Alastor x Reader

A/N: Hello, everyone! Here is my first (and probably only since I’m not really a writer) attempt at an Alastor x Reader. I don’t know why, but I got inspired to write a scenario involving the day after having relations with Alastor the very first time. It doesn’t go into detail. Being on the ace spectrum myself, maybe this was just my way of coping with things. This was very self-indulgent. Story is all from Reader’s POV, whom I kept gender neutral. I’m sorry if Alastor is super ooc. I don’t have any clue on how to capture his personality. But I hope that you can enjoy the story nonetheless!

CW: suggestive themes, excessive use of pet names

Word Count: 1,144

Last night was the first time Alastor and you made love. Why he decided to be so generous, you couldn’t say. But you weren’t going to complain. When you awoke the following morning, you awoke to an empty bed. His spot beside you was cold. He had undoubtedly been up hours before you were. Realization set in. Did last night really happen? Was it a dream? No. The evidence riddled all over your aching body proved it. You eventually found the strength to sit up. Was he upset with you? Did he regret his decision to go all the way? Is that the reason he didn’t stay? You hadn’t pressured him, but you were the one who really wanted it after all.

Brushing those dangerous trepidations aside, you washed up and got ready for the day as usual. It was your day off, so you took things easy. However, you couldn’t help but notice that Alastor was nowhere to be seen within the hotel. Was he avoiding you? Surely, he was out on business, attending to his duties as an Overlord or brainstorming ideas for his next radio broadcast. Maybe he was just taking one of his daily strolls, chatting with Miss Rosie. Would he tell her?

Sure, Alastor was a schemer, but at this point, it felt far too late to start doubting him now. So, you tried your best to push those feelings away and keep yourself preoccupied, aiding as much as you could with the daily tasks around the hotel.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

It was hours before he finally returned. You glanced at the clock—it was nearly midnight. He sauntered through the front doors like all was right with the world. Once he detected your presence, he ambled across the lobby over to you smoothly. “Good evening, (y/n),” he chirped melodically with a flourish and a gleam in his eye. “I trust that you’ve caught up on your beauty sleep?” He sounded as pleasant as ever. So, you were clearly on speaking terms. Maybe that meant he wasn’t angry, or…

Despite your reservations, you couldn’t contain the eager smile creeping its way onto your face as you admired him. “Sure did,” you answered casually. “How was your outing today?”

“Frightfully illuminating, I must say. Thanks for asking!”

He acted like he was in a good mood. Therefore, you weren't going to sour it by prying further on the matter—especially when you could discern that he didn’t want you to. However, you needed to know the answers to the questions plaguing your mind. “Alastor,” you murmured, “do you think that we could talk…privately?” The last word was a whisper.

“Certainly, sweetheart.” That was easy. “Meet me in the library in ten.”

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

And that’s where the two of you were now—in a secluded, quiet corner of the library. You made sure no one else was around beforehand. Though why would there be at this hour. He sat next to you on the plush camelback sofa. You stared down at your hands which were fidgeting in your lap nervously as you spoke. “Alastor…you’re not upset with me, are you?”

He studied you silently for a moment before responding. You could never tell what was running through that demented head of his. Suddenly, he chimed, “Not at all, dearest. What reason would there be for that?”

Did he really not get it? Was he just pretending to be oblivious? Or was he truly unbothered by what happened?

“You know…Last night. You’re not mad?”

You felt his slender, clawed fingers cup your chin, forcing you to look at him directly. His smile was genuine and warm.

“Of course not, darling. It was consensual, was it not?”

“Yes, but I would never want you to do those things if they make you uncomfortable…or, if you just plain don’t want to.”

“I did want to. I wanted to because I knew you wanted to.”

What? That was so uncharacteristically thoughtful to hear him say. His thumb caressed your cheek in reassurance while his lidded gaze never faltered. It felt as though he was completely unperturbed.

“Wow…That’s so sweet of you, Alastor.” So sweet, you almost didn’t know how to process it. “But,” you interjected, “I want you to be able to enjoy it, too. Otherwise, I can’t—”

One of his fingers grazed over your lips, effectively shushing you.

He let out a low hum as if in brief contemplation before continuing. “I did enjoy it… More than I thought possible,” he admitted, seemingly in spite of himself.

You couldn’t fight back the hopeful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “So…you don’t regret it?”

“Au contraire,” he beamed as he leaned in closer, mischief glinting in those gorgeous crimson eyes of his. “One could easily grow accustomed to seeing all those pretty faces you make while chanting my name more often.”

Immediately, an intense heat began to scald your cheeks as you hid your face in embarrassment, swatting him away playfully. “Don’t tease me!”

He chuckled heartily at your expense. “No sense in acting shy now, darling!”

“Ah, Alastor, stooop!”

His laughter continued briefly before he wiped a gleeful tear from his eye and conceded, “Very well.”

As soon as the silly little incident died down, you mustered the confidence to behold his eyes once more. He appeared absolutely pleased with himself. And yet again, you couldn’t help but return his contagious, everlasting smile. He was so beautiful—beyond just his face or form. You knew he was a menace, but there were beautiful aspects to his personality, too. Well, when he wanted there to be. Being able to make you smile—sincerely smile—was just one of them.

“Y’know,” you said finally, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between you, “I’m glad.”

Alastor’s toothy grin somehow grew even wider as he leaned down close to you like he had before. His hand crept along the back of your neck affectionately as he placed a tender kiss gently upon your forehead. Even after he carefully pulled away, his deft fingers continued to brush lightly through your hair and along your scalp. You could have melted right there and then.

“That’s wonderful news, (y/n.) Let’s try and keep it that way, shall we?”

You nodded in agreement as you happily slid into his arms, wrapping your own around his lithe frame, never taking for granted how freely and frequently he allowed you to touch him during these soft and confidential moments. “I love you,” you sighed contentedly, nuzzling against his chest.

However, it was his unexpected reply that left you feeling giddy for the rest of the night.

“I know, my dear. I am…quite fond of you, too.”

And that was enough for you.

[nicksbestie]

Hi! Could I ask for a request of Chris with a girlfriend who’s a little? And she finally starts slipping around him? Thanks 💜

Comfortable - C. Sturniolo

Summary : Your boyfriend may know your most personal coping mechanism, but you haven't used it around him, until today.

Pairing : Chris Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

Warnings : none!!!

Word Count : 1094

A/N : This is an age regression fic, which is purely safe for work and innocent. Any hate/disrespect towards me, my work, or readers, will not be tolerated.

Your boyfriend knew so much about you. He arguably knew more about you than your parents did. He knew you on a much deeper, more personal, level, as he was the person that you could go to when you needed to talk about anything and everything. With that being said, he knew one of your most personal secrets, that you used regression as a coping mechanism to relax and heal from the amount of things that you had been through as a young child and teenager, and when you had told him, he had been incredibly supportive, albeit not knowing very much about it. 

He had been open minded, asking questions while being careful to not be rude, even unintentionally, and you could tell that he genuinely just wanted to understand. He never made you feel bad, weird, gross, or anything negative about how you chose to cope, and because of the fact that he knew just how much you had been through, he understood your choice of this mechanism because after learning about it, he could see that it was incredibly beneficial for you. There was a lot of talking about it, making sure that Chris truly understood what you were telling him, making sure that there was absolutely no room for confusion in what he was expecting. 

It was so cute when you would go onto Chris’ phone for random reasons, taking photos, or googling something, and seeing lots of age regression related things in his search history and in his saved Pinterest boards. You could nearly feel your heart warm at the fact that you had found such a supportive partner, who accepted you for exactly who you were, and was clearly very open about it and wasn’t just supporting you because he felt like he had to. He often sent you pictures of cute stuffed animals and blankets, and he even got a package delivered to the house that, when opened, contained small toys with your name printed on them, along with some bottles and pacifiers with some pet names in deco beading on them. 

You had cried when you had opened it, and he had immediately rushed into the room, a soft smile appearing on his face when he saw why you were crying. He had wrapped his arms around you, gently comforting you, whispering gentle nothings, pressing kisses to the top of your head and reminding you that he loved you, and that included everything about you. He had helped you put those things into your box of little things, and he had held you until you stopped crying. What he had noticed recently, was that you hadn’t slipped at all around him. However, he brushed it off, knowing that your regression was an incredibly vulnerable thing for you, and he never wanted to damage that in any way. When you decided to regress around him was completely up to you, but he would be here to care for you if and when you did. 

A couple more weeks went by, and Chris never pushed it. You both were curled up together after a long night and day, Chris had been filming a lot, and you had gone through a tough shift at work, so you were both just happy to be in each other’s company, enjoying the quality time with each other despite how exhausted you were. Being excessively tired was normally a trigger for your headspace, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you were fighting it right now. You were definitely still holding a little bit of anxiety about it, because despite the fact that Chris had seemed to be so open minded when you had told him, you couldn’t know for sure that he would be okay with it after you actually regressed around him. 

You’d talked about your triggers with Chris before, and he knew that exhaustion was one of them, so unbeknownst to you, he was watching you like a hawk to see if you did begin to slip around him, and he was being so excessively gentle just in case. He had a feeling that you had a habit of not giving in to slipping sometimes, just because of the lack of you regressing around him. He wasn’t judging, but he had done an excessive amount of research, and he had found that littles who have anxiety when they’re big can often unintentionally carry that feeling over to their headspace, and when they’re smaller, it feels a lot worse. So he knew that he would need to be soft and encouraging, and when he noticed you cuddle closer into his side, he just had a feeling.

He’d never been a caregiver before, but he couldn’t deny that there was some type of feeling when he thought about the fact that you trusted him so much that he could see the most vulnerable part of you and still love you immensely. You felt so incredibly lucky to have him, and he knew that he was so lucky to have you as well. When he wrapped his arms around you, he began rubbing your back, being as gentle as possible, running his other hand through your hair and gently kissing your forehead. He whispered sweet nothings to you, sentences filled with love confessions and pet names, making sure that you felt safe in his arms.  

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I know. You can slip, baby, I’ve got you.” 

You had always been quite an emotional little, and when he whispered those specific words to you, you couldn’t stop the tears that immediately filled in your eyes. He gently wiped them away, keeping you close to him, knowing that you found a lot of comfort in being within close contact of people. You were so exhausted that when you eventually did give in to your headspace, you didn’t have the energy to speak much. However, Chris could tell through your mannerisms that you had allowed yourself to slip, and he immediately placed your favorite stuffie in your arms, a Build-A-Bear kitty that had a recording of his voice inside the heart. When you grabbed his shirt in your hand, tightening it in your fist just like a baby would, he couldn’t ignore the way that his heart swelled. 

After spending the rest of the night comforting and loving on you, making sure you were comfortable, safe, happy, and had everything you needed, he looked down on you while you were peacefully sleeping, and knew this was exactly where he was supposed to be in life.

~ taglist : @blahbel668 @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae @strnilo

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!!

[lets-try-some-writing]

Final Respects

Smokescreen was set to aid Optimus Prime in reviewing an abandoned Decepticon mine. He imagined it was largely going to be guard duty. Instead, he found his views of the dead challenged by his idol.

Previous Smokey related thing can be found here.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Optimus, what are we doing here?" Smokescreen walked a few feet behind his Prime, observing the abandoned battlefield quietly. The Decepticons had fled long ago, leaving behind only their useless mining excess and the bodies of the Vehicons who were killed in the fight for the mine less than an hour prior.

"We are here to offer the dead their final respects." The Prime answered quietly, almost solemnly. He didn't pause in his steps, instead marching through the rubble and into the mine to assess the damage. Smokescreen followed without question, his gaze falling upon the abandoned furnaces and strip mining tunnels just inside. The Decepticons weren't trying very hard to hide this particular operation.

"Why? They are Decepticons-" Smokescreen attempted to voice his concerns, but Optimus silenced him with a weary sigh and by halting his steps.

"Smokescreen, I lived before factions were even a murmur on the wind. Many of these soldiers were born into this role. They had no choice in the matter." The Prime gestured to the devestation, the bodies strewn in and out of the mine. Smokescreen followed his gaze, but he didn't find his spark swelling with any kind of pity. He saw the badges and the masks. They were Vehicons. Not Autobots or civilians.

"Still doesn't change the fact that they are enemies." He tried to state his objection to this whole mess, but Smokescreen found his voice came out weak and uncertain. Under Optimus's gaze, he felt like a sparkling being schooled after having stolen from a store.

"Neither does it disregard the fact that each and every one of these Vehicons were forged Cybertronian." There was a certain undertone of sterility to Optimus's glyphs that made Smokescreen want to vanish into the ground. But he managed to reset his vocalizer as he looked at all the bodies again. What was the point of it all? Why give funeral rites to enemy soldiers when energon was already scarce and they were so overworked?

"I don't get it. Why waste energy on Vehicons? I mean, I'd get it if they were alive, but they are obviously offline." Again, Optimus sighed. Smokescreen felt like even more of a discrace to his non-existent bloodline as he watched the Prime rub his face and then gesture between them both.

"If your comrade fell in battle, would you honor him?" The question hung in the air mockingly for a moment. Smokescreen took the chance to contemplate whether or not it was meant to be a trick question as he nodded.

"Of course. Autobots stick together, especially a soldier who goes down for the cause." Touching his badge, Smokescreen showed it off with an expression of uncertainty. Optimus remained as composed as ever as he fired back with another inquiry.

"What about a civilian? A neutral caught in the crossfire." Smokescreen hesitated a bit longer with his response. He was not liking where this line of questioning was going.

"Sure, I mean they didn't do anything wrong." He almost grumbled but fought back the response as Optimus's optics cycled, as if preparing to land the killing blow. In their verbal spar, he might as well have been as he again gestured to the dead around them.

"Then what sets a Decepticon apart from an Autobot or a neutral? Why are they unworthy of a funeral?" There it was. Smokescreen actively winced as he found his worldview attacked. His drill sargent always said to see the enemy before the mech. It would make shooting them down easier.

It wasn't exactly fun to have to consider things from a moral perspective.

"They are the enemy. It's not a good use of resources to give them funeral rites." Not really wanting to deal with the emotions involved in dealing with the dead, Smokescreen opted for logic. Optimus, however, didn't seem very inclined toward it as he knelt beside the nearest Vehicon, removing the mech's mask to show a face frozen in terror.

Smokescreen was unable to stop himself from grimacing.

"I understand that being raised in a time of war has made seeing our people as one unit effectively impossible. But I would implore you to look beyond the badges of your fellows." Optimus reached out, tenderly closing the optics of the dead mech before carrying it over to the nearest furnace and laying the Vehicon's body inside.

"They have faces." He picked up more bodies, always taking care to remove the mask in order to assess each and every face. Some were relatively peaceful, as if they'd expected their end. Others were forever stuck in a state of horror or pain. A few select ones even seemed sad, with dried tearstains on their faces. Optimus wiped the marks away from those fallen bots, his expression solemn but not unkind.

Smokescreen felt sick to his tanks.

"They have names." As if to rub rust in the wound, Optimus held up a Vehicon's arm before he gathered up the body. Smokescreen was met with the sight of numbers burned into the mech's very plating, a designation in a sense. He couldn't help how his spark clenched in its chamber at the sight. They weren't proper names, but these mechs still had something.

"They have sparks." Optimus gathered up more of the bodies, showing the ones with torn chassis plating so reveal their cold and lightless spark chambers. It really shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did. But seeing the dead be so empty… it made something instinctual in Smokescreen recoil.

"Look at them and tell me once more that they do not deserve to be given their final rites." Optimus's voice rang out as he continued to move bodies into the furnace, his tone neither harsh nor particularly soothing. He was teaching Smokescreen a lesson, one which he was not enjoying all that much.

"They carry scars just like we do." Optimus held a body in his arms, one mutilated from battle and the explosion that killed them. Smokescreen's devotion to his viewpoint faded futher and further with every motion the Prime made.

"They had wants and wishes just like every other living being." As the last body was loaded into the furnace, Optimus came up and clasped Smokescreen's shoulder, breaking him from his reverie. He should have been helping… and yet here he was. Rethinking life or something like that.

"No matter which side they stand on, they deserve to be laid to rest. If only to honor the lives they could have lived if they were not cut short." With that, Optimus moved away to start a fire. Smokescreen wasn't paying much attention to the whole affair. His focus was on Optimus and the machinery he was forcing back into functionality to get the fires burning.

"Why'd you pick me to help with this?" He found himself murmuring as the flames began to rise up, covering the bodies in the furnace. He wasn't doing much on the helping front, but he couldn't help but wonder why he was shown this at all. Logically, he assumed it was for the sake of learning a lesson. But why bother? He was just a rookie.

"Because you are the only one who has not yet seen the horrors of war as we have. I wanted to teach you to honor your enemy before you grew too bitter to see them as kin." Optimus moved away from the furnace to stand by Smokescreen's side. They both watched the bodies start to melt under the intense heat, metal and internal components turning into liquid that would soon be mostly useless to any organic who came across it. Without protomatter or energon, cybertronian steel was only somewhat stronger than human metals.

The dead would not be able to be used as a weapon.

"Records from the archive said that traditional rites would have the dead be turned back into parts for the living, or used as sentio metallico for a newbuild." Smokescreen spoke up softly, voicing the old information that came to the front of his memory banks. Optimus hummed beside him, his optics trained on the flames.

"Normally, that would be the case." Looking up at him, the Prime seemed so very tired. His optics held depth that was impossible to fully comprehend, but within the haze of age old knowledge, there was what Smokescreen could only assume was grief. How Optimus managed to care for so many mecha after so long being embroiled in war was behind him.

"But on this foreign world, in a place so far from our home… it is safer to destroy that which we cannot salvage. That way, no others may use the bodies of our dead to create more devestation." Optimus's response was not heavy, although there was a not of regret in his tone. Somehow, it made Smokescreen's spark pang in sorrow. He couldn't imagine being left as a pile of slag on a foriegn world, forgotten to everyone.

"That's… really sad. It almost feels wrong to just have them all burned up like this." Every part of his training screamed at him, demanding Smokescreen return to the mind of a soldier and witness his foes for what they were. But seeing the bodies burn? He just… couldn't do it. It was not an honorable end. Burned up into liquid metal and left to clump and become soiled on a world that was not their own.

It wasn't right.

"And now you see the worth of a life, Smokescreen." Optimus's voice was little more than a murmur, but Smokescreen caught it anyway. He said nothing else as they watched the flames, waiting until everything was fully melted before dousing the flames. Once they were done, they exited the mine, at which point Optimus shot at the entrance until it collapsed.

Smokescreen winced as dust and rubble rushed past him, but again, he said nothing. What a sad way to die. A mere number, then abandoned in a slagging mine of all places. As much as it bothered him to admit it… not even Decepticon deserved to be forgotten.

"We honor our dead as best as we can, but in the end, we are still at war." Optimus's servo fell upon his shoulder, heavy and comforting all at once. Smokescreen could faintly hear the ground bridge opening behind them, but he couldn't help but stare at the collapsed mine for a little while longer. Part of him wondered, distantly, what the world would have looked like if there hadn't been a war. Would he have known any of those Vehicons?

Slag, Optimus had a way of making him rethink his entire life's purpose.

"Guard the living, remember the dead. Honor the fallen, and fight in their names. That is all we can do to ensure we do not lose ourselves in the haze of eternal conflict." The Prime's commentary was grim, but it was not without wisdom. Smokescreen could only sigh in response, his vents fluttering as he watched for a moment, and then turned to follow Optimus back through the ground bridge.

No one deserved to be forgotten.

Not even enemies.

[greenorangevioletgrass]

shorn the sheep (a.d. x t.d.)

Pairing: art donaldson x tashi donaldson

Summary: the origin story of Art's shorn sheep haircut.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: just family fluff really, art is a puppy but whats new, pre-canon (or in between canon timelines ig)

Notes: my first arttashi fic! Life is crazy but I was inspired enough to write this in two sittings sooooo enjoy! please comment, reblog, talk to me and tell me what you think about it! Happy reading!

**i do not have a taglist. Follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass andd turn on the notifications to be alerted for new fics and updates!**

Art Donaldson likes routines.

He eats the same breakfast every morning –eight eggs and a bowl of oatmeal. Takes the same shower stall in the locker room and does the same pre-match routine down to which shoe he puts on first. He has had the same team behind him for most of his career, from coaches and physios to his lawyers and publicists. He generally goes to the same guy for his haircut too, but he’s in Tokyo for the Japan Open. And while his outgrown curls are starting to piss him off, flying his barber halfway across the world just seems excessive.

Although… looking in the mirror now, he can’t help but wonder if he should’ve done that instead.

Maybe it’s the language barrier (which is more of Art’s fault for his general lack of knowledge in hair-related terms, because the hairdresser speaks English just fine), but what he asked for was definitely not what he got. Then again, maybe he wasn’t being super clear on what he means by ‘tidying it up a little.’

So with a polite straight-lined smile, Art nods and pays and ducks out into the busy Tokyo street. Out of courtesy (or so he convinces himself), he waits until he turns the corner to put his hoodie up over his head.

Ever the drama queen, he only takes it off when he enters the hotel suite, finding his wife sitting on the dining table.

“They fucked up my hair.”

Tashi looks up from her laptop, and the first thing she notices isn’t even the hair. It’s the same pout, same tone she normally sees in Lily at bedtime, which only makes her chortle.

“Goddammit…” Art groans. Is it even worse than he thinks? He pulls the hood back up and tugs at the string until the fabric scrunches around his face.

He turns around towards the bedroom, but Tashi stops him, grabbing his arm and turning him to face her. She loosens the tight strings on the hood, so she can see his new hair properly. Her French manicured nails cards through the short locks, scratching his scalp the way she knows he likes. Her eyebrows furrow in focus as she scrutinizes the length and texture in relation to his face.

“It looks fine to me,” she eventually decides, pushing the top part to the side towards his natural part.

“No it’s not. It’s too fucking short.” Art huffs, resting his forehead on her shoulder. 

Tashi hums, feeling the buzzed ends on the nape of his neck. She’s never felt it this short on him—she’s been there through it all; the mop when he was younger, the swoopy Prince Charming look he had just before this, and even that one year where he grew his hair out past his shoulders. She can definitely say that she doesn’t hate this one.  “It’s just shorter, is all.”

“Makes my ears look even bigger than they already are,” he murmurs into the skin of her shoulder, his annoyance dissipating into sulking petulance in the comfort of her scent and general embrace. 

“Maybe it’ll make you more aerodynamic, Dumbo.” Tashi fiddles his earlobe playfully.

He bites at her shoulder in gentle warning, earning a little laugh from her. “That’s not funny.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with it.” She grins and shrugs. “Art—”

“Come on, this is serious.”

Tashi laughs incredulously. “What is?”

“I’m playing in my Uniqlo gear for the first time tomorrow, and the only thing people are gonna talk about is my hair.”

“I sure fucking hope they’re gonna talk about your game more than your new hair or clothes.”

There’s always a very subtle shift whenever Tashi is talking in coach mode. It doesn’t happen often, but it ticks her off whenever his attention strays off of what’s important. But Art pulls his head up and shoots her an unamused, almost defiant glare. He’s not having it.

He’s been trying not to stress out about it, but his new endorsement deal with Uniqlo is so well-covered (and for good reason—he signed a ten-year deal worth $30 million.) and wearing the brand for the first time on their home ground is a big deal. She knows that.

Art will gladly say it as often as he needs to (and he feels like he doesn’t say it often enough), but he loves Tashi. Her beauty is a no-brainer, but above all, he loves her tenacity and efficiency in her work. It’s why he listens to her, and it’s why he’s been playing better than ever since she joined his side.

Tashi sighs a little, realizing that maybe he doesn’t need a coach right now. “And look, it fits into the clean-cut, preppy aesthetics you got. I don’t see how this can be bad press for Uniqlo, either.”

She does so much for him —eats, lives, and breathes him— and sometimes he feels bad for asking. But he eats, lives, and breathes her just as much as she does, and he craves her constantly. Her firm chides, her sharp wit, her soft side, her fury… Most of the time, he needs a combination of at least two of them, even though he doesn’t know how to ask for it.

“Can we like… not make this about work?”

He doesn’t need to. She knows. 

Tashi softens, rubbing his arms up and down as he pulls her closer. “Baby… it looks good on you.”

Art rolls his eyes skeptically. He can’t help but feel like she needs to say that now.

“It really does! What do you want me to say?” She chuckles, nuzzling his face with her nose. “Hey. You know I’ll be the first one to tell you if it looks stupid, right?”

Art sighs. Tashi has never been very generous with compliments, and he actually likes that about her. She knows how to really make it count. “I know, but—”

“But it doesn’t. You actually look really good. And I… I like that I can see you better this way.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t have hair flopping over your eyes like a sheepdog anymore.”

Art gives her a playful smack in the butt, but at least he’s smiling now. And despite pushing him physically and mentally for a living, Tashi likes making him smile.

“But you like it?”

Her hand returns to his head, getting the hang of caressing it. “Baby, it’s your hair.” 

Art relaxes into her touch. He’s gone beyond seeking validation, and has fully entered clingy territory at this time. “Yeah, but you’re gonna be looking at it all the time,” he pouts dramatically. “I don’t want you to hate it.”

“I already told you. I like it.” Tashi cups his face, her thumb drawing faint circles on his cheek. The hair is cropped short enough that it doesn’t even curl anymore on the crown. But the patch of brown in his blue eyes is out in plain sight. The line of his nose is knife-sharp, and she can’t help but remember how it parts her thighs right open. “I like looking at your face like this.”

Art’s mouth quirks to the right. He likes coaxing sweet nothings out of her like no other. “So you just like my face?”

Tashi bites the inside of her left cheek. “I do. I like your face.”

Art pulls her into a sweet kiss, and Tashi happily meets him halfway. He wonders if the butterflies would ever cease one day, but until then, he’s gonna relish in it entirely. Wholeheartedly. Selfishly.

Until…

“Daddy, you’re back!” the unmistakable squeal of their 2-year-old cuts through the quiet, followed by the pitter-patter of her little feet.

Art reluctantly lets go of his wife in exchange for their daughter, throwing the former a fond, knowing look. “Hey, Lilybug!” He scoops her tiny frame up into his arms and peppers kisses all over her cute face.

Lily giggles, arms flailing and pushing him around until Art lets up. It’s only then that the little girl manages a good look at him. She gasps. “Daddy, your hair!”

Art’s heart stops. He never thought a toddler’s opinion would mean so much to him, but he plasters a faux-oblivious look for her. “What about my hair, baby?”

“It’s so… little!”

Tashi chuckles. And so does Art, although he does so in surprise. Of all the adjectives in the English language (that they’ve taught Lily anyway), he didn’t expect it to be little. But in a way, he’s glad. It takes the edge off a little.

“Do you like it, though?” Art turns his head side-to-side and lets Lily assess him, and his heart stutters a little.

Lily has a habit of picking up Tashi’s brutal honesty. Truth be told, she is the spitting image of her mother. She tilts her head the same way, sports the same thoughtful pout too. He may have been off the hook with Tashi, but it would be stupid to have his confidence crushed by the miniature version of her.

Eventually, though, Lily grins and nods. Art breathes out a sigh of relief, while Tashi looks at him like, see?

Lily puts her tiny hands on Art’s cheeks the same way her mother does, fingers flicking on her father’s earlobes. She giggles again. “Daddy looks like my sippy cup.”

Tashi laughs out loud this time. Art is not amused.

But he’ll take it. He scowls playfully and makes a face, pretending to be the sippy cup in question, eliciting more laughter from his girls.

[anemoelliacia]

the five times alhaitham knew he loved you

warnings: female reader, basically just tooth rotting fluff :)

▶ I recommend listening to the song I hear a Symphony by Cody Fry while reading this chapter. <3

The first instance was when he was talking to you about something Akademiya related, and you were listening intently. Truthfully, you didn’t quite understand or grasp what he was talking about. Though, you tried not to let on to the fact that you didn’t understand. You did the best you could to entertain the topic he was talking about. The next evening, when he stopped by your home to see you after work, he found you asleep at your desk clearly researching something. He felt the need to satiate his own curiosity, so he looked at the books and papers on your desk. Turns out, you were studying the very topic he was telling you about yesterday. He is a stoic man, however he couldn't help but softly smile down at your sleeping figure as he quickly deduces the fact you must have started studying it for him, to be able to understand and properly discuss it with him. It tugs at his heart, emotions bursting forth he hasn’t really had the time to feel before. He thinks, “hm, do I love her? I think I do.”

Secondly, the time he saw you jokingly bickering with Kaveh over a card game during dinner. You won and Kaveh was being a sore loser, all Alhaitham could do is sit back and watch the two of you interact, chuckling each time you jokingly shut down Kaveh’s antics and him whining over losing. He watches you and can’t help but want more little moments like this with you around, he thinks, “yeah… I love her.”

Thirdly, whenever you stay at his house, you make it a point to try to wake up earlier than him and have coffee ready for him. It was a habit of yours he can’t even pinpoint when it happened. Did you start doing it the first time you stayed the night? He can’t recall. But never fail, everytime you stay the night, you always wake him up with a gentle kiss on the head and a piping hot cup of coffee just the way he likes it, two sugar cubes and no milk. The longer this habit of yours goes on, he can’t help but think, “I love her,” each time you do it. 

Fourthly, when you always plan dates to be at home, or in out of the way places because you know how much he doesn't like needless social interaction. Alhaitham is a rather observant person, he puts the pieces together quickly why he thinks you opt to do this. One date night, when you cooked him dinner at his own house and served it up elegantly at his dining table, he brought it up to you. He asks you, "why do we always have dates at home when I know you like to go out?" and you say, "for you. I don't mind doing what's best for you." and it's the truth. He already is a very busy person, but not just that, he prefers quiet situations– Alhaitham doesn't like to deal with crowds of people, excessive noise, or pointless conversations with anyone but you. So, if date nights at home are what's best, you're very happy to accommodate that. Your response was quick, yet thoughtful. A smile momentarily graces his face, and he thinks, "I love her…"

The fifth and final instance was just a quiet intimate moment. He was sitting in bed with his back against the headboard reading an abstruse book about philosophy, and you were laying with your back flush against his chest reading along silently. Neither of you felt the need to talk, you just wanted to be in each other's company. Alhaitham mindlessly plays with your hair in between flipping the pages of his book, placing a kiss on your head every now and then. It may seem like an insignificant moment to anyone else, but to him, in this moment he realizes he wants you forever. So, "I love you," he finally says, knowing it to be true as you two sit together and enjoy the quiet company of each other.

▶ if you liked this, check out the other parts linked in my masterlist :) every genshin man i write for is getting their own part.

[tonkatsubowl]

blargghh how do you think aventurine would be w someone self destructive do you think they would make eachother worse or like help eachother ? i dunnooo i love him smm

oohh... i think aventurine would be able to relate with someone who's self destructive, but he'd also be very disappointed with the idea with them actually pursuing it and be there for them. although he has his own self destructive tendencies, i think he would learn his lesson too, that someone out there would love and care about him, and be upset if he went away.

when aventurine found out about your tendencies, and your thoughts and ideas of destroying yourself, he felt... heartbroken. sad, even.

the man always wore a mask of a blissful smile, as though everything in his life went well, especially the fact he donned in wealth and good luck.

but we all know the man was suffering within, his motives and his outlook on life was a depressing subject. but when he came across you, learned more about you, he learned more about himself.

he found you within the alleyway of penacony.

you often visited this dreamscape to escape from reality, but there was a limit of how much you can stay before you returned to the nightmare known as reality.

when he found you, you were distraught, in tears even, and you were in a panicked state. he quickly rushed to your side, wondering what was wrong. and that was when you finally said it,

"i can't take it anymore. i don't want to live."

the words struck him into his heart like it was nostalgia, reminding himself of...well, himself.

"...why?" he murmured, his hand brushing amongst your hair, brushing them away from your tear stained face, "talk to me."

then, you explained everything about your life. your suffering, what you've been through, how life was excessively cruel and you weren't sure if you were meant to be born at all.

"i'm better off if i just disappeared."

he knew you well, and he knew how many lives you've changed despite the fact you were blind to the fact of that. you were a member of the express team, and all the burden of saving worlds throughout the cosmos really took a toll on your mental health.

"don't say that." aventurine spoke, seating himself before you, bringing you into an embrace, "even if you don't know it now, you've saved many lives by simply being there, and soon you will do so much more. someone, out there... your express family, or someone out throughout the cosmos cares about you."

"...and yet, i feel like this. i feel helpless, even. i don't know what to do, anymore."

it was like a contradiction to aventurine. the man had the exact same mindset as you. it was like talking to himself - except, he knew what it was like. to be in your shoes.

but he had to be there for you. he wanted to be.

because he also knew what being helpless, feeling alone, a burden was like.

"...it's okay if you don't know what to do at this very moment. life is strange, really. you live through it and you often find yourself in trouble through all these obstacles that come across your way. but life is challenging. it's about getting through these obstacles, and..." he paused. something about his own words struck him, too.

"... and it's about learning to love yourself again. for every down hill, there is an uphill. and i assure you, that even if you feel alone now, you are not. you are merely blind to your surroundings and the future that is ahead of you. if you wish to take away your life now... there wouldn't be anyone to replace you. there is only... one of you, and none of us are replaceable, really.

things will be harsh now, but after you wipe away your tears and you get up, a beautiful garden will bloom upon your feet, and you will soon find yourself once more."

his words eased you slowly, as you felt yourself breathe again once more. you leaned into his touch, feeling the cold rush of his jewelry and accessories of his expensive attire cool your warm visage. all that crying really did heat up your face a bit.

"... haha. a certain doctor once told me that someone... someone out there loves me. cherishes me. and even will care about me if i go. they will shed a tear if i decided to leave everything behind. the fact applies to you, as well, (y/n). if only you knew how many people care about you, and in the future too. "

you wipe your tears away, looking at him with your dolled eyes. you were calmer, his words bringing you more comfort and truth.

"we've only been given one life, after all. we must die without regrets and with joy."

you were quiet, but you decided to break your own silence too, with your own statement. "... were you like this before, aventurine? you always wear a smile, and you seem so content with your own life."

"... ah," he murmurs, shaking his head a bit, "i... am in the same state as you, really. it's contradicting for me to say all of this, but... i suppose a part of me is blind to everything that i'm saying. i'll give you advice, but i cannot follow my own. isn't that a funny thing?"

the man chuckled, placing his shades at your face before leaning back a tad.

"listen to me, (y/n)...and promise me one thing."

you looked at him again, silent. you tilted your head,

"never leave your loved ones behind by dying to your own hand. you'd only miss out on the opportunities that life has ahead of you. things may be down now, but focus on the future... and what lies ahead of you."

you nod slowly, before rising up from the ground you sat on. you look to aventurine, who remained seated.

"... then... can i say about the same for you? if we're making promises then... promise me you won't do anything stupid like i was going to do."

aventurine's gaze softens, before nodding slowly. taking your hand as he helps himself up, dusting himself off.

"... for you, i will obey that promise."

[anonymous-existences]

Chapter 3 : Phantasm Recovery

[𝙵𝚊𝚛 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚣𝚎𝚗, 𝙶𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚉𝚘𝚗𝚎 / I𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚜]

Dash Baxter and Tucker Foley was Heading to the Far Frozen with Fright Knight as their Supervision, His Mare riding through the Ghost Zone, Soon They landed in the Far Frozen, It made Dash shiver because of the cold chill that sets as soon as they landed on the surface, it was snowing heavily, almost like a Blizzard but it's softer winds. "Brr— Gosh— i forgot how cold it is here." Tucker shivered, no wonder Fright Knight made them wear layers of Thick Clothes, dash sighs as his breathe turns into an icy fog mixing their surroundings.

They trekked through the snow still on top of the Mare as Fright Knight Led the Horse Through the Thick Snow, soon they saw sight of the Yeti's Homes and Presumably where Danny is, Tucker looked Relieved and Dash's eyes sparkled in Satisfaction that Danny was Alright, Tucker glared at him and Dash Notices his Glaring. "W-What's up Foley Nerd?" Dash asked Nervously as Tucker's glare felt as though it's digging at his skin, "Since when were you this concerned for Danny..." Tucker asks with a deep voice of threatening intent.

"Uhm— I have no idea— he just looks majestic nowada— oh have mercy—" Dash barely dodges Tucker's Phantom CreepStick™ "I have my eyes on You Dash Baxter.." he glared and Warned, "If you bully Danny again I'll actually give you a concussion and a broke nose. Capiche?" Tucker hisses his eyes felt like a wolf ready to hunt it's prey and the prey was Dash.

"Jeez, Look it's been like... 3 days, since... That happened. I'm gonna keep changing to be a better version of myself... We all saw too many people die.. my parents are dead so I don't have to hide my homosexuality anymore—" Dash was Interrupted with a "HUH??" By Tucker, Dash tilts his head in confusion and Tucker stared at him in shock. "you're a huh.— a homo-Huh. I never noticed. Oh my god. And I thought Sam was lying when she said you totally were into Boy's Love—" Tucker said which made Dash Choke on his own saliva.

The two looked at each other in shock, both trying to comprehend the information they gave each other, "wait Wait, so . You didn't know I was Gay, but Sam Manson, the Goth one, guessed and THINKED that I was gay the Whole Time? And she knows... I have... BL..?" Dash tries to confirm, "SAM ALSO Said that she has seen you... Buy.... BL related.. books..." Tucker says slowly which made Dash just stunned. "NUH-UH!" Dash denies. "Yeah like that's gonna prove your case—" Tucker laughed at him as he buried his face in his Scarf.

"This is so humiliating.." Dash says as Tucker Foley continued laughing at Him loudly making the whole ride to the far Frozen homes much longer than it felt for Dash Baxter. Deep inside Dash knows they don't like him very much but he'll prove to them that he's changed.. especially in these rough times where they're all basically Orphans and Alone. They were each others last strand of sanity. Dash pulled Tucker closer as the blizzard leading to the Far Frozen homes got too cold for them. "Hold On Foley." Dash says trying to see ahead through the Thick Blizzard, Tucker Tightens his grip on Dash's Coat and both of them trying to Tighten each other's grip to not let each other go, a few minutes of the coldness passed and soon they passed through the blizzard like barrier and reached the far Frozen homes.

KnightMare was Shaking off the Snow from her pelt and she didn't look very pleased to be covered in frost by her hooves kicking and stomping, Fright Knight wiped the snow off of the crevices from his armor and also shook the excess off after helping the two kids off the Horse. Tucker shivered and dash shook off the excess Snow on his Coat, "Grah, that's so heav—" he was cut off with a snowball to his face. "Oh come on Foley. That's so unfair." Dash complains but gets another Snowball to his face, "Foley!" Dash yells as he wipes the snowball on his face, but was stunned when he saw it wasn't Tucker who threw the second Ball. Danny was on a wheelchair and giggling, "DANNY!!" Tucker yelled and cried as he ran to Danny, Dante was pushing Danny's Chair and Val looked horrified and stunned and totally lost in her own world of thoughts.

"Oh wow, Dash you're face is really red! You must be very cold—" Danny says but Dante interrupts him. "He's not that cold Danny, that's just how normal humans look in the cold such as Far Frozen." Dan states whilst glaring at Dash, "yep!" Tucker agrees teasingly and hugging Danny gently.

(Dante would rather Call Vlad "Papa" first before he admits that he's Protective of Danny)

Dash just nods, "My Liege are we heading back to the Castle?" Fright Knight asks as he is kneeling in front of Danny and Dante. "Not yet. We'll stay here for the meantime as Danny is still recovering most of his Powers and Energy, as well as his ability to walk." Dante states and Fright Knight nods. "Why does Val look like that?" Dash finally asks very confusingly. "We found out me and Dante are just Adopted! And not Maddie and Jack's Real Children!" Danny casually states as he pats Cujo's head who was in his lap.

"WHAT—" dash yells unexpectedly, "SEE!! EXACTLY MY REACTION DANIEL!!" Valerie Finally speaks up still very confused and out of her logical voice of reason mode. "Yes Baxter and Foley, Our Father is a millionaire and our mother is Aunt Alicia's Best Friend who's long dead and Gone but it was said that the girl came from a very wealthy family who got accidentally pregnant and hid it from our biological Father and Her Family making her essentially run away, Aunt Alicia said that during her best friend's pregnancy she was the one to help her through everything including the birth which to this day still shocks me." Dante rolls his eyes and scoffed. "Our mother's name was Daniela! Which is probably why my name is Daniel!" Danny chuckled now loving his original name more than before.

"Aunt Alicia also stated that she loved us dearly even when we were still in the womb..." Dante says with a pained Expression and Danny holds his hand, Dante just sighs and nods. "GODDAMN. Damn... Wow. That's a lot to take i— Foley are you okay?" Dash asks and seeing tucker just fixing his glasses. "I SUSPECT YOUR FATHER IS BRUCE WAYNE—" Tucker yells out suddenly making the other 4 jump in surprise. "Impossible." Danny bluntly states not believing him at all. "Actually Daniel, according your aunt Alicia. He is your father." Vlad appeared out of nowhere fixing his tie with liptint still smudged on his cheek.

The 4 looks at him before tucker yells out, "I WAS RIIIIGHT!!"

"Ancients have mercy on me." Danny says and suffering.

"I'm gonna bury my head on the snow now" Valerie says pinching the bridge of her Nose.

Dash and Dante just stunned on the spot.

Dante looked as if he was gonna kill somebody and Dash looked like a Big Hunk of Confusion of someone about to lose consciousness.

"Who in the fuck did you make out with Vl—"

"Clockwork Dante. I made out With your Master. Why do you ask?" Vlad smirks amusingly and teasingly.

Dante scowled very upset.

"Fuck this whole thing."

Cujo barks in agreement.

[getvalentined]

I've never done a full breakdown of everything that happened to my version of Vincent while he was under the knife (although there is a partial breakdown from like 12 years ago on Ask Vincent Valentine), but @spinejackel tagged my recent Vincent doodle gushing about autopsy scar (Vincent Has a Y-Incision headcanon supremacy!) so I figured it was probably a good time. This is also probably the best method, since I can apply the right tags and trigger warnings to hopefully keep it from hitting the people who would be disturbed.

For anyone who doesn't know, figuring out the fucked up physiology of victims of science is like my entire jam. I think this is what happens when you let a chronically ill child watch Akira and the original Bubblegum Crisis OVA and most of the works of Masamune Shirow. All that before FF7 even existed. This means that the explanation under the cut may seem excessive, and this post is very long. I've been building it over over a quarter century, I don't think there's any avoiding it at this point.

Warnings for body horror, nonconsensual body modification, medical horror and torture. Basically, if there's anything you can think of related to becoming a victim of science under the rule of an unethical sci-fantasy oligarchy, it's probably in here to some degree. It's explained plainly and simply, in clinical but not visceral detail.

My headcanons for what Hojo did to Vincent are pretty specific, albeit not precisely comprehensive; 27 years later I still don't really have a particularly solid concept for how he turned Vincent into a shapeshifter, although at least we know it's not something entirely specific to Vincent—Hojo repeated that facet of the experiment in Azul, but not in any other SOLDIER operative even in DeepGround, implying that it's only possible if very specific physiological conditions are met. The minimal concept I do have involves a twisted application of the concept of incarnate summoning as it appears in FFXIII-2, but it's very vague and also not the topic of this post. Maybe later.

Regarding the Y-incision/autopsy scar, my headcanon is that once Hojo tweaked Vincent into being able to regenerate from any injury—an enhancement that is confirmed to be entirely Hojo's work in Dirge—the professor of course felt it necessary to run various tests quantify the usefulness of his handiwork. He did this first by inflicting various surface injuries, then by causing more extreme bodily trauma, which eventually culminated in Hojo removing the majority of Vincent's internal organs in order to measure how long it took them to grow back and, assuming they did grow back, how the new ones compared to Vincent's original parts.

To be able to observe this as closely as possible, Hojo kept Vincent's torso open for the entire process—which he repeated twice more in order to check the weight, size and structure of the newly-grown organs in comparison to the originals. This study proved that most of them did grow back, but the majority of them stopped developing much earlier than was appropriate for Vincent's age and size. The difference was consistent, Hojo just never figured out why most of them grew back smaller and less-developed.

The reason this happened is based the fact that most of the organs in the human trunk are used in digestion and other related processes, and Vincent's regeneration means he doesn't need to eat or drink anymore. His body only expended as much energy as was completely necessary to develop those organs to the point of being functional rather than normal, because they're not really necessary. Vincent is glad he still has them, though, because he does still occasionally eat (usually in social situations) and also he'd be really sad if he couldn't even have coffee.

Vincent's brain activity remained normal during the entire process, although that may have something to do with Hojo driving a bunch of fluid lines into his head and flooding the inside of his skull with mako to keep him awake the whole time even while deprived of oxygen. (Rebirth spoilers, but seeing the bit in the Nibelheim Protorelic questline where Hojo does something super similar to this, after this has been my headcanon for decades, was a trip.)

Two organs didn't grow back at all: Vincent's appendix and one kidney. This was also the result of efficient energy expenditure, as the human appendix isn't necessary for survival, and only one kidney is really required. (Each time Hojo removed the new kidney, the one that grew back would be on the opposite side, which bothered Hojo to no end.)

His lungs grew back a little larger, possibly because his skeletal structure never quite recovered after his first transformation into Galian—his arms and legs are noticeably too long for his body, although not to the point of looking impossible, and likewise his ribcage settled to breadth that would allow for larger lungs. He doesn't really need these anymore either, related to his brain being exposed to so much mako during the process that it can now operate without oxygen if necessary, but switching himself over from aerobic to anaerobic respiration is really unpleasant and Vincent tries to avoid it when he can.

His heart was pretty normal by the time Hojo was done with him, although his heartrate had dropped to like 20bpm even when elevated. Again, if respiration isn't necessary, there's not much reason for the system to be active. (By the time Lucrecia was done this had dropped to around 5bpm on average, although it's completely arrhythmic and jumps all over the place when he's not either particularly active or on the verge of a transformation.)

This was the experiment that left Vincent susceptible to degradation, which Hojo didn't realize until after finally closing him back up. Upon realizing that Vincent's body wasn't responding properly to a different test (a repetition of an earlier experiment related to the regeneration of external tissues and features), Hojo just kinda threw him in a tube to be disposed of at a later date, kinda like that scene in Arrested Development where there's that dead dove in a bag in the fridge. The incision healed at some point during the period that Lucrecia was working on him, but early enough in her work that the tissue couldn't flawlessly regenerate (like it does in the present), leaving him with one more gnarly scar on top of all the rest.

Vincent is self-conscious about all the physiological changes brought on by what was done to him, often to the point of loathing. His left arm is the worst—it rotted off while he was in the throes of degradation and grew back as something that he hesitates to call his arm—but Vincent hates that Y-incision scar almost as much. Some days they tie.

(It has come up in appropriately horrified conversation with Shalua that, considering how his regeneration works, Vincent could probably get rid of all the scars on his chest if he somehow peeled the skin off his torso in a single swath. He will not be doing that. Besides, it might grow back the wrong color/texture/etc, like his left arm. Not worth the risk, much less the suffering.)

Also I gotta finish off this entry with the extremely stupid headcanon reveal that Vincent's (honestly fairly impressive) dick was cut off during the first round of bodily trauma regeneration tests—and Hojo has never felt the sort of rage he experienced upon discovering that it grew back bigger than before. This occurred early enough in the experiments that Vincent was not awake for it, and thus has no idea how the fuck this happened, and does not want to talk about it ever thank you very much. I've never mentioned it in public anywhere because it is extremely stupid, but I hope someone out there finds it as funny a concept as I do.

[formula-hamilton]

Little White Lie | Lewis Hamilton x reader

Summary: On your first date with Lewis you told him a small lie that you soon came to regret. Word count: 1.7k Warnings: None I think? Just an excessive amount of sport + fluff. A/n: Just a small one shot based on an idea I had after watching Lewis’ latest running story on instagram.

--

It started as an innocent lie. Just a small fabrication to make yourself appear more appealing. In hindsight, it was completely unnecessary, but you wanted to impress him. Find common ground and then he’d hopefully find you worthy of his time. Sadly, you didn’t realize just how unnecessary the lie was until it all became too much.

It was on your first date. Lewis had picked you up at your flat and taken you to a small Indian restaurant in London. A very intimate place, quite fitting for a romantic dinner for two people getting to know each other. As the waiter showed you your table, Lewis held his hand on the bottom of your back, gently following you. And as the true gentleman you had expected him to be, he pulled your chair out before sitting across from you. The conversation was a little careful in the beginning, both being nervous and a tad shy. You couldn’t help feeling a bit intimidated by him, afraid of saying the wrong thing. But as you shared a bottle of wine, your nervous demeanor slowly slipped away as the conversations got deeper and you both felt a connection growing. You remember thinking it at least felt like a third date.

Of course you touched the subject of his job and his journey in the sport. This lead to talk of his love of racing and sports in general and of course you discovered just how much he loved being active. It shouldn’t have surprised you, him being a professional athlete and everything, but still it blew your mind just how much he loved doing sports and running. That’s how you found yourself a little overwhelmed and frankly quite unable to relate. But you were scared. You were so infatuated by him that you felt scared he would find you less interesting or less compatible, and that’s when the words slipped out of your mouth before you had a chance to think them through.

“I love doing sports as well!” You found yourself gushing and before you could stop yourself you talked him through just how much of an active person you were. Truthfully you hadn’t done any serious sports since your time at university, but that didn’t sound quite as good.

--

This lie of course led to Lewis suggesting more active activates for your future dates. And unfortunately it wasn’t the sexy kind. On your fourth date he invited you to play tennis with his friend and his girlfriend. You went shopping and bought the nicest tennis fit you could find, hoping it would keep him distracted and unaware of your lack of fitness. Luckily for you, Lewis was such a good player that he didn’t notice how much you lacked in the skills department. Your team easily won and that was definitely no thanks to you. After the game Lewis slept over at your place for the first time and you could finally be physical in a way that left you way more satisfied than any sport could ever do.

Clearly Lewis found the tennis game so successful that he for the next date invited you golfing. This time you were honest with him and told him you hadn’t tried golf before. You simply couldn’t see how you could fake it as well as the tennis match. Fortunately for you, Lewis took it upon himself to teach you and you really didn’t mind him wrapping his arms around you when you had to swing.

Two hours of playing in the scorching sun and you were completely exhausted. You were sweating like crazy and your body ached in ways it had never done before. You had no idea just how physical draining golf would be and you honestly wanted to call the quits on your whole untruthfulness. As you were standing there, being a little dramatic, thinking you were possible having the worst time of your life, you complemented just how you would confess. Before you got a chance to put your thoughts into action, Lewis put his arm around you, grinning.

“I’m so happy that we can do things like these together. I think it’s such a great way to get to know each other. Much more interesting than dinner and a movie,” he said with the sweetest smile on his lips, eyes meeting yours. That’s when you saw just how much he appreciated these dates and you found yourself melting. How could you ever let him down? How could you ever tell him that dinner and a movie was your idea of a perfect date?

Therefore you went on with the golfing and hid just how difficult you found the whole situation. Naturally, you loved the time spend with Lewis. Just as you had known since the first date, you definitely had a deeper connection with him and there was no doubt in your mind that you could see this go somewhere. And even though you were really pushed out of your comfort zone, the time spend with him was much cherished.

For your next date you were quick to beat Lewis to it. This time you invited him to an art exhibition hosted by one of your old friends. It wouldn’t require quite as much energy and you really felt a need for something that wasn’t as physically draining.

The art exhibition was followed with numerous dinners, but just as many tennis matches, golf dates, cycling and your least favorite of them all: running. At least you could carry a conversation with the other sports, but that was simply impossible with running. It was always 45 minutes of pure hell each time. It got a little better with time, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to enjoy it. But you must take the bitter with the sweet and boy was everything else with Lewis sweet.

--

As the months had passed, your feelings for each other only grew. He was everything you were looking for in a man so when he asked you to be his girlfriend there was only one answer on your mind. You knew you were being silly, but as the months passed, you also grew scared of what Lewis’ reaction would be if he found out just how much you dreaded your active dates. First of all you knew it was wrong to have lied in the first place, and even more wrong to have kept it going for as long as you had. Secondly, such a big part of the time you spent together involved doing sports and quite frankly you were scared he would lose interest in you if you lost this common interest.

Once again Lewis and you found yourself on one of your runs. This time in Monaco where he had invited you for a weekend trip. Today you were struggling more than usual, the warm weather was making the whole experience very difficult for you. Your lungs were burning like never before and you felt absolutely disgusting being drenched in sweat. It was only 9 am and you would give anything to just be able to sleep in with Lewis for once instead of being out and about on your small holiday.

Just as you were trying to keep up with Lewis’ pace, you found yourself cursing your past self for even coming up with such a stupid lie just to impress someone. Even if it was Lewis Hamilton. Being completely caught up in your own thoughts, you didn’t watch your step and suddenly you felt yourself tripping on rock on the side of the trail. Your arms saved you from landing face down on the ground, but your ankle wasn’t as lucky. It hurt like hell and there was no doubt in your mind that it was strained. You knew the pain from when you strained it playing football when you were 14 years old.

“Shit, are you okay love?” Lewis rushed over and bend down to put his arm around you, worry filling his eyes.

“No!” You felt tears rushing to your eyes. Both from the pain and all the pent up frustrations. “Do I look alright? I almost fell face down on the ground and I’m pretty sure my ankle is sprained. And it’s all just because of a man! I can’t do this anymore Lewis.”

Lewis stared at you with wide eyes, looking taken aback by your words. As you uttered your last words his face dropped and sadness filled his eyes. “Do what? What do you mean? Do us?” he frantically asked you.

“No, god no, not us!” You rushed out, feeling the first tears escaping your eyes. The dam had broken and the words would not stop leaving your mouth. “I can’t do all of this running anymore. Or tennis or golf or cycling or god knows what sport. I simply can’t do it. I’m not that type of person, I would much rather just stay in and relax with you baby. Or go for dinner or the museum or a nice walk.”

“I thought you loved doing these things?” Lewis frowned at you, small pout on his lips as he looked confused by your words.

“I don’t. I’m so sorry Lewis, I lied. I wanted you to like me and I wanted to find something we had in common so you would want to keep seeing me. And then it just kept going and I didn’t know how to tell you. You were so happy that we did these things together and I didn’t want to disappoint you,” you told him with tears streaming down your face. “I understand if this means you can’t trust me. I really am so sorry I took it so far.” As you finished talking you buried you head in your hands, ashamed to look at him.  

“Baby. Baby, listen to me. I don’t care what we do. I don’t care if we lay in bed all day or if we run a marathon or if we go shopping or whatever. I just wanna spend time with you,” Lewis told you while brushing your hair with his fingers.

“Please don’t let me run a marathon,” you whispered, finally meeting his eyes. Lewis giggled and held both his hands to your face, wiping your tears away.

“I promise I won’t,” he smiled at you, giving you a small kiss on your forehead before moving to your lips. “Come on darling, let’s get you home and cleaned up. Then we’ll just watch movies all day and I’ll cook for you.”

[edosianorchids901]

Learning to Live

Ace Omens Hugfest 2024 prompt - "group hug"

Aziraphale tried very hard not to let out any audible noises as the tears fell. He didn’t feel entirely self conscious about the tears. It had been an awfully difficult day, after all, and he’d learned long ago that sometimes it was necessary just to cry for a few seconds before getting back to work.

But while he felt a bit like sobbing for a longer length of time, he refused to allow himself that much loss of control. It would make Crawley feel as if he needed to extend comfort, for one thing, and that would hardly be fair. His silent companionship was kindness enough.

And quite remarkable, at that. Aziraphale marveled at it, which proved a very nice distraction from his guilt. Crawley had come out here to sit with him, to ensure he was okay. And he’d stayed.

He’d broken Aziraphale’s fall, really. Softened the landing. And now, the world didn’t feel nearly as overwhelming, the consequences as dire. It was almost too good to be true.

“Did you mean it?” Aziraphale asked.

Crawley didn’t look at him, still just gazing steadily over the water. “Hmm?”

“That I wouldn’t like Hell. I-I mean, it’s Hell. I don’t suppose anyone is supposed to like it.” Was that rude? Aziraphale was a bit too rattled to be sure. “What I mean is… does it really matter to you, what I like?”

“Nh.” Crawley gave a tiny shrug. “Wouldn’t have encouraged you to eat if I didn’t think you’d enjoy it.”

“I did enjoy it.” So much more than he would have ever expected. Oh, he’d been curious about food, but he never thought he’d get the chance to sample some. “But do you really expect me to believe that the only reason you tempted—er, that you encouraged—me to try the food is that you thought I’d enjoy it? No nefarious motives?”

Crawley gave another tiny shrug. “‘Course I had nefarious motives. Everything I do is nefarious.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips, unconvinced by that. Crawley was quite excellent at playing the evil demon—but he wasn’t evil, not at all. “Was your nefarious motive, perhaps, related to wanting someone to share a ‘meal’ with?”

That got a reaction, albeit a subtle one. Crawley’s eyes darted to him for just a second. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Aha! I knew it.” Aziraphale found himself smiling, and feeling much less alone than he had a mere handful of minutes ago. And suddenly quite daring. “Would, um… would you by any chance be interested in doing it again? I was thinking, I never did try the wine…”

That got a full reaction. Crawley twisted to look at him, eyes wide behind the dark glasses. “Are you sure you’re ready for that, angel? Source of drunkenness and all that.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s only troublesome when consumed in excess.” Aziraphale tilted his head, trying his best to appear as if conflicted. Important to keep up the pretense, rather than to admit he’d quite happily do anything if it meant spending more time with Crawley. “It’s not strictly forbidden for angels to drink…”

“There you are, then.” Crawley gave a tempting little side to side sway. Aziraphale strongly suspected that the tempting was as much an act as his own reticence. They might have rather more in common than he’d initially assumed. “Let’s go. I know a little tavern that serves terrific cocktails, has good wine, and loads of different things to nibble.”

“Well, I suppose I can hardly resist an offer like that.” Aziraphale rose, and found that he was suddenly rather tired. Crawley too, moved slowly. Perhaps they were both a bit worn down by all that had happened. It would be nice to get away from here.

“Are you leaving, Bildad?”

Crawley jumped at the sudden call, and Aziraphale touched his arm lightly in reassurance before turning towards the girl. “Ah, Jemimah! Lovely to see you, my dear. Yes, Bildad and I are both off to… to…”

“Turn more people into animals?” Jemimah asked eagerly, looking at Crawley with wide eyes. “Can you do me again?”

A little smile tugged at Crawley’s lips. “Sorry, all out of time for changing people into animals today. My friend and I are on our way to cause chaos elsewhere.”

“You’re causing chaos,” Aziraphale corrected. “I’m merely… um…”

Friend. My friend and I.

Crawley considered him a friend? The thought of having a friend was so shocking that it left Aziraphale utterly speechless.

Crawley lifted an eyebrow. When Aziraphale just kept gaping at him, he turned back to Jemimah. “Right, so. See you around, kid. Keep making cool pots.”

He tried to step around her, and she blocked him. “You have to hug me,” she declared with a bright smile. “Both of you. Hugs are really important to keep everyone happy.”

“Oh, are they?” Aziraphale asked faintly. Perhaps that was what was wrong with him so often. He’d never been hugged before.

��Yep! Group hug!” She held her arms out.

Crawley took a step back. “No. Nonono. Demons don’t do hugs.”

“They’re important for happiness,” Aziraphale said, giving a little pout. An almost tempting pout, really. “And you wouldn’t want to disappoint the child, would you? Or me?”

Irritation tugged at the lines of Crawley’s face, and he hissed. But nevertheless, he stepped closer again. “Okay. Fine. Just make it quick.”

“Yay!” Jemimah threw her arms around both of them, hugging them close. Aziraphale instinctively curled an arm around her, then gave Crawley an inquisitive look.

Crawley still looked as if about to flee. But he gulped and reached out, briefly touching both Aziraphale and the child. Aziraphale put an arm around him too, and beamed.

“Right.” Letting go after a mere few seconds, Crawley wriggled out of the hug. “Let’s go. Come on, angel.”

“That was lovely, dear. Thank you.” Aziraphale smiled at Jemimah, and she giggled. “Bye, now.”

“Bye!” She waved to them both, and took off.

Aziraphale gave Crawley a sly look, enjoying the consternation on his face. “So. It seems demons do hug.”

“Oh, shut up.” Crawley set off, and Aziraphale fell in step beside him. “Just for that, I really am gonna get you drunk tonight.”

“You’ll have to do much better than that to tempt me, you old serpent.”

But not much more, really. Being tempted was really quite fun, and Aziraphale thought he might be able to get rather used to it. And perhaps, he could even get used to having a friend.