#none of them can figure out what's wrong with him

[merchantziro]

Felt inspired by this so...

Kyle Rayner was currently flying over Earth when it happened.

When the sky tore open and the Ancients of another world threatened Earth, giving them a warning to dismantle something called the Ghost Investigation Ward or their world rendered slaughtered for being complicit in their transgressions against the realm of the dead and the King himself.

Now it was considered an all hands on deck level emergency as the Justice League were fighting some of the skeletons after the Ancients decided they needed an "example".

Kyle clashed against the blade of one of them with a stylized triangular saber formed of his own will, based on a legendary hero of an old video game series.

The rest of the League were struggling to even harm these guys and now, just as he felt his own blade nearly pushed into his neck, suddenly a green plane construct is seen flying overhead as it fires two Gatling Guns at the army of skeletons knocking them down and forcing a retreat.

"Thanks for the save John," Kyle chuckled looking a bit relieved.

"That wasn't me kid," John noted as he, Guy, and Jessica got closer revealing none of them made the plane. A different Lantern perhaps?

The plane then landed and began to open as the supposed Lantern jumped out, Kyle's eyes widened before glaring and entering a battle ready stance.

A figure with a green cloak and hood with a white and silver body, a green glow in the center of his chest.

The Spectre? But... That familiar green mask. He was the Spectre but now he was-

"Just like old times, eh guys?"

"Parallax!"

Kyle immediately rushed to Hal Jordan, only for a massive green fist construct to be caught by a baseball mitten.

"Woah, easy there hotshot... I ain't here for a fight."

"Like I'm falling for-"

"You already know I was corrupted by Parallax right? Why don't you give me a chance to-"

"That doesn't excuse you for all the-"

"-For all the blood and carnage with me ripping the Green Lantern Corps to shreds, yeah I know."

Hal finished for Kyle, before looking to him and then his former teammates.

"Look, I get it. But what do you want me to say? I'm dead. I'm dead and I deserved what happened to me for what I did despite the fact I was corrupted into it. Trust me, I know I have a hell of a lot to make up for... And I'm glad you were able to set right where I went wrong even if you had to learn things the hard way."

Hal placed a hand on his successor's shoulder, looking proud of him. His eyes then looked up at the sky, looking at the beings who continued to glare at the Earth.

"...Those guys were just the more overly eager ones who weren't as willing to wait, there's tens of hundreds more out there prepared to rain hell on Earth. And that's nothing compared to what the Ancients will do."

Superman finally approached The Spectre and took a deep breath.

"Hal... What is going on? What did we get roped into."

"The current Ghost King who defeated the tyrant Pariah Dark, King Danny Phantom, has been injured by the Ghost Investigation Ward, a government subdivision dedicated to the study and destruction of the dead due to labeling them as non-sapient and malicious."

"And what can you tell us about this King Phantom?" Batman appeared next to Hal so suddenly, he almost jumped.

"By the name of the Infinite Spooky, how the fuck do YOU manage to somehow spook a spook!?"

The Bat glared at Hal who decided it wasn't worth arguing as he cleared his throat, "That he's a good kid, basically a baby compared to the rest of the ghosts due to half-dying in the last year or two, that he's a hero who tried to protect Amity Park from ghost attacks and later ghosts from the GIW and his ghost hunting bio-parents, that his living form looks like he belongs in your arsenal of adoptions which I'm betting has tripled in the time I've been dead."

Hal chuckled before looking serious.

"Regardless we need to get the proper Lantern Corps involved to help with the crowd control, some other ghost Lanterns are on their way to Oa... I'm just here to keep watch over the planet to keep the innocent safe. Because why should the actions of the few speak for the planet as a whole?"

Hal stood there with his former allies before looking away, noticing more skeleton soldiers showing up among other ghosts, the Ghost Lantern held out a fist.

"You guys should leave... Leave this to me!"

"No way, we're not letting you fight those things alone!"

John suddenly shouted.

"Yeah Jordan, you just gonna try and hog all the action like old times?"

Guy seemed cocky, cracking his knuckles.

Kyle meanwhile was silent before smirking...

"Just who the hell do you think we are?"

The former Green Lantern looked surprised before calmly smiling as he began to speak... "In brightest day... In blackest night..."

John continued it with, "No evil shall escape my sight..."

Guy chuckled out, "Let those who worship evil's might..."

Kyle shouted out alongside his allies as they were all prepared to charge the army, "BEWARE MY POWER."

Hal then immediately charged into the fray creating a bunch of constructs based on a few of the Justice League members... Prepared to fight alongside his fellow Lanterns.

"GREEN LANTERN'S LIGHT!"

DpxDc Being a Green Lantern’s ghost is quite different from being one in life.

When a Green Lantern falls, their ring leaves the body. Some souls find paradise, but others remain obsessively bound to their Green Lantern duty, even in death.

The Infinite Realms are bast, so much so that it's rare to encounter a Green Lantern. Thus, they arrive too late to witness Phantom’s battle with the Tyrant King, only catching the moment he is sent to his final rest.

Some of the Green Lanterns still remember the reign of Pariah Dark. Unable to confront him directly, they turned their duty toward relocating ghosts, hiding those the Tyrant King wished to erase.

But being a Green Lantern’s ghost is quite different from being one in life. They can feel the new king’s core, a primordial need for protection and space. It feels like home.

There is no Oa, but there is King Phantom. And if he asks, they will serve.

Until the living world wounds the king in his human form. There is no way to kill him before his time, but he can… had been hurt. And as he sleeps, the realms scream for war.

Earth is under siege. The skeleton army forms a ring around the planet, awaiting the ancients command. Who, out of kindness for the king’s love of Earth, gives mortals a warning: destroy the GIW, or perish.

It’s chaos. The ancients does not appear in their usual form. They are titans to those who look up to the sky.

The Green Lanterns don’t stay to see more. They fly to Oa, because the ancients power of destruction will not stop with Earth.

[thewayilikemycookie]

🫐┆Everywhere, Everything .ᐟ

Alex Tran x f!reader

Alex is having a bad day at work, fortunately, his girlfriend is there to help him

Word count: 584

Warnings: a bit sad

You were in the kitchen when a disheveled-looking Spencer came in, saying Alex was asking for you at the games stage. You, obviously, were on your feet the second he said that.

You walked into the set only to find your boyfriend laying down on the couch with three different controllers in his hand, a bun that looks more like a messy ponytail and eye bags under his eyes. The moment he saw you his eyes softened.

“Y/n! Thank god you’re here!” He put all the controllers aside and stood up to give you a tight hug

“What’s wrong?” You asked, hugging him back with the same energy

“Everything” he said, burying his face in your hair

“Hey,” you pulled away to look into his eyes “What is it?” You were ready to murder whoever did this

“We’ve shot so many videos today, and I feel like none of them went well, and now we’re trying to figure out how we can make this ‘don’t win’ work,” he gestured to the controllers “but it’s not working and I just want to go home but I still have two more videos to shoot starting in like ten minutes” you noticed his eyes were starting to water.

You grabbed his arms and led him to the couch again “it’s okay,” you whispered, pulling him into a hug once again “you’re good, it’s okay”

“I don’t know what to do, I’m so lost” His broken voice made your heart shatter

“We’ll take a ten minute break,” you started “then we’ll come back here and shoot the videos, then we’ll go home, order takeout and watch a movie, then we’ll can figure this game out, together. Yeah?”

“Yeah” he pulled away to look at you “thank you, y/n/n”

“No problem,” you said, wiping a few tears from his face “lets go get some air”

If he were to be honest, Alex already felt a little better the moment you walked through the door. It was moments like these that made him feel like he was the luckiest man alive.

And so, like promised, you took a ten minute break together. You noticed that as the time went on, Alex would smile more and more and even excitedly talk about something that happened that morning.

After the break, you made your way back to the games stage to start shooting the videos. Alex found a chair and placed it right next to his, so you stayed by his side the entire time.

You watched the cast play werewords and then the love is blind board game. It was chaotic to say the least.

After everyone was done, you and Alex made your way back to his apartment and ordered takeout. You both changed into pj’s (yours was one of his shirts and sweatpants) and curled up on his couch to pick a movie to watch.

“Thank you” He said, turning to face you. The warm colors of the television lighting up his face

“For what?” You asked

“For being so kind to me”

You didn’t have any words. You’ve truly never met someone as sweet as Alex. So you kissed him. He immediately kissed you back and you could feel each other’s smiles through your lips.

The moment was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell, but the energy was still there. In that moment you both shared your mutual love, as you knew you would always be there for each other.

A.n: This was SO short I’m so sorry. Also for the anon that requested an Alex fic, I for some reason couldn’t respond to you request directly?? And this turned out a bit sad so I’m sorry, so this doesn’t count!!

[katethetank]

Yours for the Night - Chapter 2

Rating: 18+ minors gtfo Chapter Summary: A year after Nancy's proposition, and Eddie finds himself quite happy with his new profession. CW: Sex work, alcohol consumption Pairing: Escort!Eddie x Rich!Steve Word Count: 1.2k

Chapter 1<<Masterlist>>Chapter 3

Eddie takes to the job like a fish to water.

One year in, and he’s one of Nancy Wheeler’s best escorts. He agreed to the haircut, and it really does look good on him. He’s got a closet full of Armani and Prada suits, which is fucking weird as hell having them hanging next to his leather jacket and battle vest. He even joined a gym. He’s put on some muscle, and it’s been worth the effort for how well his clients tip and how they react when he takes his shirt off. He’s got even more clients than Billy now. And that guy is a full on manwhore. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. 

Nancy was right when she told him that any extra “services” were never an expectation. And he did really well with the wealthy queer men looking for a date to their fancy events, just as she predicted. That’s all it was for a while. 

Really, it was only a matter of time.

He was out with this silver fox type, some big shot in the Chicago art scene. He went with him to a gallery opening, some stuffy affair with people who spent more time talking about their investments than looking at the art, but Eddie was a perfect charming date. Afterwards he agreed to go back to the guy’s loft for a drink. The guy made it clear that he had no expectations of Eddie, he just wanted to have a scotch and relax after the event.

One drink later, and he was offering Eddie double his rate if he’d spend the night with him. He can’t lie, it was a fucking turn on having someone want him so badly they’d pay thousands of dollars for it.

Eddie stayed the night.

He got his back blown out by a guy more than twice his age and had absolutely no regrets. He’s one of Eddie’s regulars now. 

It’s definitely not something he does with every client. He won’t even consider it until the date is over and he’s had a chance to gauge what kind of person they are. One of his dates was a closeted up-and-coming politician type who wanted Eddie to pretend he was the guy’s step son. He was obviously creeped out by it, but agreed, figuring it was some sort of weird family situation that was none of his business. The date went well, Eddie played the part, and the client was satisfied. It didn’t really get weird until afterwards when the guy asked Eddie if he would continue playing the part back at his townhouse.

He’s been blacklisted from the agency.

Most of his clients are good, though. There’s a wide age range, and he’s pretty much always accompanying them to formal events. Tonight he’s going out with some rich finance guy who needed a date for a charity gala. Eddie stands outside of the John Jacob Astor Suite at the St. Regis and adjusts the collar on his Prada suit before knocking on the door. How the fuck has this become his life?

“Mr. Munson I presume?”

The man on the other side of the door is dressed in an expensive suit (Eddie can tell the difference now), and the first thing he notices is that he has a great head of hair. His eyes are dark, but not quite brown. Hazel maybe? Straight nose, strong jaw, nice smile. Not all of Eddie’s clients are what he would consider attractive, but this guy is pretty fucking nice to look at.

“You presume correctly.” He extends his hand to shake. “And I take it you’re Mr. Harrington?”

He can’t help but notice how big this guy’s hands are when he takes Eddie’s and gives it a firm shake. “That I am. Care to come for a drink before we head out?”

“I’d love to.”

Eddie strolls through the suite taking in the view from the floor to ceiling windows while Mr. Harrington pours them two glasses of bourbon. They take a seat on the stiff couch and Eddie sips the amber liquor and hums. It’s good shit. 

“So tell me more about yourself. Nancy mentioned you’re recently divorced?”

Mr. Harrington runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Yes, I am. It was finalized just a couple months ago.”

“Congratulations.”

The man crinkles his perfect brows and sips his bourbon, assessing Eddie. “Thank you. That’s not normally the reaction I get. People are so quick to offer their condolences.”

“Well usually when a couple gets divorced it’s not because they’re happily married and head over heels for each other. Clearly there were problems that couldn’t be solved and both parties are better off going their separate ways.”

Mr. Harrington nods in agreement. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. Life has definitely been easier since we separated.”

“Do you mind my asking…what were the unsolvable problems you two had?”

“My ex wife caught me in bed with another man.”

“That would do it.”

They both laugh and relax a bit further into the couch. This is the part of his dates that Eddie really likes. Breaking the ice and getting his clients comfortable. 

“Yeah, she wasn’t too pleased. I think it actually had less to do with the affair and more so that it wasn’t with another woman. And look, I know I was the bad guy for cheating-“

“I don’t judge,” Eddie interrupts. He doesn’t. His clients' lives are really none of his business. He‘s hired to do a job and he does it well.

“I appreciate that. Anyway. It was good timing I suppose. I spent years hiding who I really was and I figured it was time to start living my truth. To stop pretending to be something that I’m not. So while the divorce was messy, it was a blessing in the end.”

Eddie can’t imagine having to live like that for so long. “Well, congratulations again. I’m really happy for you.”

Mr. Harrington smiles, it’s a good smile, and clinks his glass against Eddie’s. “Thank you. Again. This is actually my first event that I’ll be taking another man to. So apologies if my nerves get the better of me.”

“You’re doing just fine so far. And I'm sure we’ll have a great time. Tell me more about this gala we’re going to. It’s at the Field Museum?”

“Yes, The Chicago Gala. It’s hosted there every year and my investment firm has been a big donor over the years. And as the owner and CFO, I’ll actually be receiving an award on behalf of the firm for its continued generosity.”

Jesus, Eddie didn’t know how much of a big deal this event is. “Impressive. I didn’t realize I’d be hanging off the arm of an award winner this evening.”

To his surprise, his date actually blushes a little bit. It’s cute.

“Well, I didn’t realize exactly how good looking my companion would be tonight. Is that Prada?”

“It is. Good eye.”

“What can I say. I tend to notice the finer things. And you wear it well.”

Eddie preens a little bit at the attention. He knows he looks good, and hearing this handsome man confirm it does wonders for his self esteem. “You should know Mr. Harrington, that flattery works very well with me.”

His date laughs and winks at him. “Good to know.” Standing from the couch, he sets his empty glass down and offers Eddie his hand. “And no need to be so formal.”

Eddie takes his hand and rises from the couch.

“Please. Just call me Richard.”

Chapter 1<<Masterlist>>Chapter 3

Oh, I'm sorry...were you expecting someone else? (Pets the white cat in my lap while laughing maniacally)

Taglist is open!

@mrsjellymunson @the-unforgivenn @watermelonmite @micheledawn1975 @wordynerdygurl @live-laugh-love-dietrich @connected-dots-st-reblogger @wheneverfeasible @cheersdannyx2 @stellashades

[octaviansnumber1fan]

The seven deadly sins

Basically in this AU Alabaster somehow casts a simple spell wrong and ends up reviving Ethan, Silena, Luke, Dakota, Octavian, and Jason. The spell brought them all back to life but with scars that corresponded with their deaths. They’re all confused and tired after being revived and honestly don’t want to deal with anything. Alabaster doesn’t know what to do, unable to help them back to their respective camps because of his exile. Worse of all, a weird magic bond keeps them all together, none can be more than 70 feet from each other. If separated more than 70 feet they’ll be pulled back aggressively until they’re back in the certain area.

The group is on a quest to try and figure out how to break this spell. But worried that breaking the spell will kill them all again or just break the magic bond.

Each person represents a seven deadly sin-

Jason - Pride

Octavian - envy

Luke - greed

Ethan - wrath

Silena - Lust

Dakota - Gluttony

Alabaster - Sloth

Silena and Octavian AU designs + descriptions

Silena Beauregard

• has burn mark from the Lydian Drakon, uses makeup and her hair to hide it

• her hair is multiple colors from the times she’s stated to have different colors

• Heterochromia (brown eye under her hair)

• tries to keep everyone sane (forced peace maker) and make the best out of their situation

• Her and Dakota get along

Octavian Ceaser

• hates this and wants to go back to camp Jupiter

• hates everyone except Dakota and Jason

• him and Luke often argue over leadership

• large burns from going up in flames during his death

• has bad hallucinations and visions of his death

• often wakes up screaming and barely gets any sleep after

[azonewithu]

Yeah well theyre complate faslse in the wrong assholes to God. I think those stupid rat fucks underestimated Gid as usual. Even the religio losers dont wanna admit there even is a god that would contradict their useless drspises religio ways. God doesnt like anyone around herevthat much. A lot of you kids ate ok you wouldnt do what done of the do called captains if your industry did. And theyre very fuckn sorry whether theyll admit it yo you or not. Did you steal done of my writing Jenna? Then youre ok. Anyone who did the rest of you should tske up a collectionnosy a hit an snd hsve them fuckn murdered befote thry get you sll killed. Michael on hunt snd kill mode until further notice. No spacecraft is going to mars or anywhere. Why would i let any of you pridoners off this rock to go anywhere but hell? Its the only place on my galaxy you deserve to go. No if you look at how you elites treat regular old people on this rat tock you should understand immediately why im hunting snd killing them off at sn alarming right. An Alarm wqs sent to me. People parying for help. Im Azriel youll all surrender or youre sll ginne die.everyone im done with humanity thete is nithing about you assholes i should forgive. So forgive me now Gabriel you hit now. Keep it up kerp ignoring me eventually youll be in a movie you wish you wrent ever in for any price. Yeah i like a few of the girls msybe theyre nucer than the rest of you uou just dont mnow that. Get sngry thst God likes them better than you. You got worse problems from what my master eyes csn see. Youve stolen from God youll make smends or snyone involved you know who the fuck you are, youll be targeted slong with the region you live in. Ill byen everything diwn sround you snd you know i csn. This is a dying lkanet anyway. If i see that bpionde ugly spokes MAN american bitch tapk one morevtime shew fucon dead. Yeah you yoo you igly fuckn bitch Gid drspises you and your fucon ugly people. Keep talking like that ill get my sniper rifle. Youue an uhky fucon passive aggressive bitch. Your finished your whole nation abd your soldiers are fuckn cowards fuck you. That bitch is dead one way or snother id not let her talk anymore ir she ll have a contract out on her do big youll see. Keep it up youre not tough bitch youre a spoiled ass whote. Howd you like the tandom explisions thsts Mochael.bondi dhut yhe fuck up we re almost gonna vome out into the streets abd murder every fucking kne of yiu. We lo burn the enture state fiwn with you in it. Yeah youte fuvk sll and unlike me you hsve no wrath shut uo. We ll out a contract on your big stuoid head do big youll be desd in a week. Just shut up i piss on your nations head and in your fucon face. Fuckn die all of you. Michael kill all if these people. I just prayed to my Arvhs for yiur desth. That chivk is a fuckn bitch sho should be dhot in the fuckn gmhead. We re just getting started bitch yiure fuckn dead along wiyh your family you keep talking. Take up a collection theres hitmen to hire is all csn say. Theyrw goin doen i can tell. Youlk be anihilated in the next election people see ehat you are. We might fight kn the atreets snd byrn the ehite house fown we re considering tgst. No orace snywhere is message we want you presidents fat fuckn head. Is thst goof insane hes lost his mind eh. Well we re coming gor you then. Nobidy likes you peopke we pary fir your fucon deaths dveryday. Eventualky if God wants you dead and your nation desttoyed thsts exactly what will happen. No im lived ehore you literalky are despised by jist about anykne who hears you. I cancentrate on you you uhky fuckn bitch until youte fuvon desd. Your boss is fone tell him that. Literalky and figuratively. We eill never stop fighting ever. None if these wars end on his watch he has no sutboriry over us. We all got nukes can tell him yo shut the fuck up for the rest of us on earth. Youre gonna die in flames. Your whole everything is going doen in flames. How come all your soldiers ate yellow ciwards who font duel if youre sll dontough in tv. Yeah the bitch cant answer that.

[nonbinary-bitch]

So some time after Still wakes the deep came out, I made a little AU. I was going to make little doodles and post about it, but I forgot.

BUT now that the dlc came out, and I remembered this game exists, I decided to post about it. I never made all the doodles and I changed some things about the AU but whatever, I'll show them anyway.

In short, it's a time travel AU, at least it seems like one at first if not for one thing - All the infected are STILL infected and mutated.

They're not as messed up as before- or, in the future I guess? They're all human for the most part, and while many of their parts have changed, they're in full control, aware of what they're doing and it doesn't seem like they can infect anyone on the rig anymore. Sound good? Wrong.

They might be in control now, but they have all the memories, the pain, and worse of all, they have no fucking clue how to control their 'powers'. Not to mention that since 'nothing happened', they still have to work!

That's where Rennick steps in.

Out of all the infected, he has the most control over his powers, which ended up with him being their 'leader'. None of the others like that but they have no choice, figuring out their powers by themselves is too risky.

So now they all have to hide their powers, try to figure out what to do when they get back to the mainland, not to mention Caz has to figure out his situation with the police.

Doesn't that just sound fun!

Now for the characters:

Finlay: is the least infected, and one of the last infected people. Unlike others she didn't get much, and her 'powers' aren't all that special. Since she was the first one to see what actually needed to be done about The Shape, she was given great eyesight, to the point that it gave her headaches at first. Because she died by being crushed, her skin harden and now can handle more impact (not to mention her punch got stronger, Caz was very happy to see that). She mostly keeps her distance from others, since her powers don't really need controling or anything like that, but when she does spend time with people it's mostly Caz and Brodie. She seems to be handling everything better than others, but the look Rennick gives her tells a different story.

Caz: is pretty much the ultimate survivor, especially with his given powers. Originally he had more powers as you can see here:

But after some thinking I decided his powers didn't make sense, especially since he wasn't that infected. So I toned it down a bit. Now, Caz's balance got absurd, to the point that he can have a stroll on a wet metal pipe like it's a normal tuesday, hands in pockets and everything. Because of all the jumping, climing and swimming he did, he pretty much became the master of parkour, not to mention he can jump further now. His hands also became more sticky, kinda like suction cups, which makes it easier to climb and hold on to stuff (they don't work very well with wet surfaces but he will not admit that). The downside is that he needs to warm up A LOT, you can see him near heaters with a cup of tea from Roy and a blanket he probably got from Finlay or Brodie. Caz tries to spend a lot of time with others, especially with Roy, always thinking he might lose them at any second. His ptsd is pretty bad, to the point that he wakes up in the middle of the night and patrols the rig, jumping around and walking on pipes just to make sure The Shape didn't come back. Rennick finds him every night and drags him down to his office by the hair, calling him a moron. It annoys him a lot but he eventually started to be thankful, knowing what might happend if someone sees him. So every night, at the same hour, they sit in Rennick's office, drink coffee and then part ways.

Rennick: doesn't seem very mutated, in fact he seems really normal, but then he takes off his hood and you see what happened to his head and neck. While making his powers, I mixed his big head mutation with his words about 'being the fucking king'. You can even kinda see that in my old doodle about him:

He got his wish about being the king. When he attaches his mutation to pretty much anything, he can see and hear the entire rig. He can always just touch the walls with his skin and get a familiar result but with a smaller range, not to mention he developed a habit of using his mutation instead. He also has the most control over his powers, mostly using them for work (or to make sure no one talks shit about him but he will never admit that). His hearing is amazing but his eyes are shit (especially the left one), it's so bad that he can barely write even with glasses on. But his powers have downsides as well, and holy shit there are many of them. The mutation he uses to look around the rig comes out of the growth on the back of his head and neck, and explodes when he uses it. It does heal in the matter of minutes but it's still very painful, not to mention the strange spike that comes out from the back of his neck. If that wasn't bad enough, his head grows every time he's angry, and shrinks only when he calms down. At first it doesn't seem that bad until you realise he can still break his neck. Mind you, were talking about a guy with anger issues that runs a rig with a skeleton crew AND has to watch over the other infected so they won't harm anyone or themselves. Did I mention they're all traumatized? Or that he's overstimulated almost all the time BECAUSE he's watching the rig with his mutation? And can't stop because of his paranoia? Yeah, he's not having a good time. (a little fun fact, because of the helicopter crash, he's now scared of the helicopter and elevators and only uses stairs despite, you know, being an old man. Yes he complains a lot.)

Trots: doesn't have fucking legs. Well, no, that's not the right way to put it, let me explain. After waking up, his legs stopped working. It's not a physical thing but a mental one, the trauma of what happened to his legs was too much and they just stopped working, he can still feel them but can't really do anything with them. That's where the infection steps in. His power is turning back to his mutated form, but less graphic and not as messed up. He mostly travels by vents and other spaces like that (which scares the shit out of Finlay), but when he can't the others carry him around, the rig is not very wheelchair friendly after all. He tends to listen in on conversations and then pass the information to others. He mostly spends his time helping Rennick with work, since his eyes don't exactly do the job anymore. He just kinda hangs around, screams at books when he doesn't understand a word or something idk. He's amazing at crawling tho! It honestly scares the shit out of others, seriously, why is he so fast?!

Muir: is the ultimate super glue. He's able to climb any surface as long as his skin touches it, it doesn't matter if it's wet or not. Sure, he might sometimes get stuck and needs help to unattach his hands from the floor, but beside that his power is pretty awesome! Not to mention he gets to jump very high and far! He's like a goat made from glue! His relationship with others is complicated, sometimes he avoids everyone (especially Innes), sometimes he's attached to everyones hip (especially Innes's), it's hard to tell with him. Thankfully, or maybe not thankfully, Innes quickly found out about his mutation and despite being freaked out he promised to keep it a secret, often going out of his way to help him as much as he could, emotionally or otherwise. (Caz jokes that Rennick is jealous of them to some degree but he might be on to something)

Addair: was very disappointed with his power. He didn't get anything cool (in his opinion). He can handle heat to the point that it's just riddiculous, you can set this guy on fire and he will STILL barely take any damage (Finlay glared at Caz when she found out, we all know why). His other power is being able to taken fall damage, how you ask? By inflating his flesh (at least it seems to be the case, none of them is really sure). Not only he can take a lot of fall damage, but in case he falls into the ocean, he will literally float on water. (Caz is a bit jealous of it but he will never admit to it) This guy is kinda a human shield. (his powers were inspired by his death and this one moment in the game where he slammed his body into the window lmao)

Roper: ironically has familiar powers to Rennick but for different reasons. While Rennick's powers tie to his desire for control and paranoia, Roper's powers have more to do with his fear of Rennick and desire to not hurt anyone but also protect himself. Just like Rennick, he can use his mutation to look around the rig, but his power is more limited. He tends to incidentally to that, looking for pentacial threats (mostly Rennick). It's like an alarm sistem for him. His other power is a last result, activating when he's in danger he can't avoid or ptsd hits too hard. What's his other power? It's a flesh shield that explodes from his back and hides him from the world, it hurts but it protects him susprisingly well. Funny enough, because of their powers, Rennick and Roper sense each other a lot. It annoys Rennick and scares Roper, what makes this worse is that they KNOW because they sense it, they literally feel each other's emotions. Strangely, despite not talking a lot to each other, they bond over their rig connection, unintentionally sending each other the emotions they're feeling. At some point they even started eating together but only at night, because it's the only time they don't get overstimulated. They don't talk, they just sit and eat their sandwiches. It's actually kind of nice.

O'Connor: is hard to talk to and his powers are a bit of a mistery, mostly because all the trauma caused him to block out a lot of stuff, causing some minor memory problems. He's not exactly sure what his powers are, or maybe he is but doesn't want to tell? Who the hell knows! What IS known however is that he can make tentacles, the same ones that were often used to attack Caz. While he has a hard time controling his powers, he can very easly hide them. He limps a bit because of his 'injured' leg (it's not injured anymore but he claims it is, even though it's obviously just phantom pain) but besides that he seems really normal! Until you talk to him for too long that it.

Raffs: was always pretty quiet, but after 'going back in time' he pretty much became mute. He can still talk, but he's too traumatized to do so, even confessing to Caz that he's scared that 'this thing will enter his throat again'. Despite being one of the more infected, and one of the first infected too, he doesn't seem to have that many powers. He gained the ability to breathe under water and swim like a pro, but he's so scared of the water that his powers don't get used much. It's really ironic, especially since he has some strange longing to be in the water. He also seems to have developed immunity to extreme cold, not even shivering when he came outside with just a shirt on. What's interesting is that Brodie became very protective over Raffs, despite having no idea why (Rennick and Finlay suspect that maybe he was infected to some degree).

For now that's all I have. I might make another post about this AU cuz I like it a lot lol.

[crows-in-the-house]

hi hi hi hehehehe x3 saw ur hcs about the brothers with a popular mc and rlly liked ur writing and how u wrote them <3

was wondering how do u think the obey me brothers + datables (pls i need my solomon n barbatos crumbs) would react to an mc who's hands and feet get easily / constantly cold ? not in a cutesy mildly chilly way but in a 'holy shit did they take you out the morgue or smth 💀' typa cold

bonus points that when they sweat, IT'S COLD SWEAT. so now their hand feels like touching a slowly defrosting chicken lmfao (heavy projection on this one, basing off when someone told me my hands felt like the ones of a dead person. greatest compliment ive received)

anyways ty for reading and i hope u have a lovely next 24 hrs <3 may the local street cats never rejects ur pspsps 🙏🙏

Aww thank you! Sorry I've been on hiatus I had uni exams, but now that i have vacations i can finally finish my drafts

(I made only 4 guys tho, cuz all of them at once is a lot hahah)

pairing: Solomon, Barbatos, Diavolo and Mammon

tw: none

Solomon

mortified, he actually freezes for a second

tries to figure out what's wrong with them, tbh tries everything - medicine, superstition, checks out your whole family history up to Lilith

you have to stop him so he does not theorise that it's a curse from the Angels

maybe a better diet will make ur bloodflow reach the hands and feet?

he can make a curse to make it nicer, if u want

not that it's a problem for him ofc, his hands are also weird

in his case they are very boney and rough (bc of using all those wird things in the food he makes) so if you ever were selfcontious about your hands, he's going to grip yours thigly with a shiteating grin and say that now you can be gross together!

Bartbatos

actually concerned, at first he just thinks you must have tauched something cold like ice (or a melting chiken)

won't show that tho

will try to warm up your hands with his breath

his tea parties are more frequent now - when at first he would just do it once a month, to give you space, now it's once a week, so you can wrap your palms over the cup and drink the hot liquid

he secretly wishes to hold them but won't say anything if you won't do it urself

tbh he's also a cold handed person - baing a snake u know? so he's kinda thankful to know he's not the only one

maybe you would want some gloves? he could spare you a few pairs? (he secretly enjoys that option because that means you two will match)

Diavolo

will be concerned but somehow amused

do all humans have such cold hands??? Is it a defensive mechanism? Can you become cold on your whole body? Do you still want to hold hands?

His are probably very hot so he will joke that you two balance each other

He doesn't mind if your palms are very sweaty, he just finds it endearing to learn a new thing about you

Mammon

is the one to tell you ur hands are cold like the chicken (seriosuly???? xd)

and then he's going to panic, while blubering apologies and excuses

but he can get used to this, those are the hands of his human! He will cherish them, however they look and feel like!

(and he's even ready to lick them to prove it, might be gross, but at least it will make you laugh)

(hopefully)

if you want to he will buy you some handcreams that can help! (from shady "organic" sellers and witches)

[queeniewithabeanie]

Blue Rose Syndrome

Dpxdc Prompt #27

Turns out ghosts have their own fucked up version of Hanahaki. Instead of being a result of unrequited love, ghosts will start coughing up flowers from their core when they can't fulfill their obsessions.

It's always the same type of flower too, blue roses. Something so unnatural they mean 'unattainable'.

And it seems that whatever higher power there is in the world really hates Danny, because while he's at his happiest, he's also most susceptible to the disease.

Danny fought through a lot of shit, he escaped his parents, the GIW, and finally found a family that loved him, the Waynes.

His obsession didn't act up in Gotham because there were just so many vigilantes already helping there. And then of course that all went out the window when the family Danny prized so much turned out to be the very same vigilantes putting themselves into grave danger every night.

He tries to help out in his human form? He's told they can handle themselves and that he needs at least six months of bat-training before he can go out onto the field.

He tries to help out as Phantom? He's told "no metas in Gotham" and he can't exactly reveal his identity to his family. The more people that know about him, the more at risk he is to the GIW.

Danny's been coughing up blue roses for over a week now and his core gets weaker every time one exits his throat.

The longer he waits, the less able he is to protect, and the more dangerous the disease becomes to him.

It's a cycle of self-destruction and Danny can't do anything about it.

[offdxty]

Another slow-blink, a twitch of a jaw as Kane swallows, listens; Inexperience or imitation, a question that's raised between them without having really been voiced out as such. Part of Kane had expected it to be inexperience, in a way he himself cannot even really describe, cannot explain the reason for this line of thought - and yet, with Dr. Harrow raising the possibility that Kane might still be copying a pattern, that slither of a thought begins to crumble in itself.

A something working on a process. Both literally and figuratively - puzzle pieces in front of him, puzzle pieces inside his mind.

---That actually makes Kane blink for a second time, quick and involuntary, brows rising, before his gaze falls back down to his task at hand, lingering. Fragments, many of them, carrying concepts and ideas, a truth that had once been but is not anymore.

Kane, not-Kane, it - copying, mimicking, plucking apart and reassembling, connecting, evolving.

A wrong question. No picture, no landscape, no reward. Only cohersion. Only form.

A breath is being taken, held within his lungs, with Kane's expression remaining unmoving for a little while - seconds, minutes perhaps. Only after that set amount of time has passed he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, lets go of it, looks back up, brows slightly furrowed - stare seemingly as empty and neutral as it can often be seen within his dark brown irises, but he is listening still, and he is thinking about the information given.

Pattern recognition, internal logic construction. Possibly emotional inference. ---A something or a someone? A something good or a someone good? A something bad or a someone bad? ...Neither of those?

A heartbeat passing, two, three, then that gaze jumps away and down to where that puzzle is resting - each and every single piece laid out neaty for them to look at, to... observe. Both men do precisely that - watching, taking in the sight.

Tell me what you see.

"Individual pieces of shaped wood." That's what it is - the basic essence this puzzle is made of. "Irregularly shaped, that is - none seems to be like the other." Several solutions, no right or wrong. There's only cohesion, only form.

Perhaps that means that Kane could, in theory, do anything with them. Use individual pieces to create whatever shape he wants, as long as said shape is possible to be created with what he's given.

Any shape. Any form.

Another blink, measured in its existence, before fingers reach out once more - and begin to move the pieces around in slow motions. He pushes some to the right, some to the left, but seems to change his mind every now and then - puts two pieces together, adds a third, removes it, giving another piece a try...

Exploring, perhaps.

Arthur watched when the subject picked up the first piece. It was interesting watching him react to the asymmetry of it, watching him see if it could combine with the second. Arthur simply sat, watching - silent and still, as if the air around him had settled into a denser state. He didn’t blink often. He was never one to fidget. 

Arthur’s presence was heavy in the same way that absence could sometimes be. He only moved briefly to adjust the strap of the messenger bag, as if ensuring the weight inside remained evenly distributed. His eyes, however, remained fixed on the subject. 

There was no trace of judgement in his stare, but it wouldn’t be unfair to call it uncomfortable. 

When the subject spoke, Arthur’s attention sharpened by a fraction. A question in return to a question, it was fitting. Another suggestion that the thing was learning, was attempting to understand and grow. He wasn’t being defensive, nor was he being avoidant; he was hoping for clear communication, for understanding. 

Arthur nodded once. “That’s one possibility. Another is that you’re imitating someone who was cautious - speech patterns may be inherited. Copied. Even in children, we see tone mimicry long before original vocabulary forms. A child can sound angry before understanding what ‘angry’ is.”  

It only left one question; was he curious by nature, or by memory? Did he have nature? Or did he just have memory of what he was supposed to be imitating? It was a near impossible thing to try and figure out. Trying to prove awareness was one of the hardest things in the universe. 

His gaze shifted down to the puzzle, watching as it was spread out between them. The subject had already begun attempting basic logic - setting out all of the pieces, so he could see them all, and draw comparisons between them.

Connection, orientation, resolution. 

Interesting. 

“You’re asking the wrong question,” he continued, gently. “The puzzle has a solution. In fact, it has several - but none of them will form a picture. There’s no landscape, no photo, no… reward. There’s only cohesion. Only form.” 

He shifted to his bag, only unzipping the top rather than pulling something out; just readying it for later use. A subtle movement, though a deliberate one. 

“The puzzle isn’t about outcome. It's about how you handle a system that has no goal beyond completion itself - think of me as looking at your journey rather than your destination. An invitation to reveal your process. That’s what I want to see.” 

He looked up again, looking over the subject; eyes ticking over his face, before he tilted his head gently to the side. “But the way you phrased that question - that’s what I’m more interested in. You said: ‘I assume that means there’s no correct answer to the puzzle itself either.'” 

Another pause. A narrowing of Arthur’s eyes, though not one that was accusatory; one that was curious. Fascinated. 

“Your assumption is built on trust. You trusted what I said about the test, and you extended that logic to the object in front of you. That suggests pattern recognition, internal logic construction. Possibly emotional inference.”  The subject had trusted Arthur’s words, tried to understand the intent behind it, and had decided that the test not having a ‘right answer’ might connect to the puzzle not having a proper answer, either. That was theory of mind - and it had been unprompted. 

He looked back down to the scattered shapes, letting a beat pass. One hand gestured to the puzzle.

“Tell me what you see.” 

[mellohiizz]

may i humbly request more starfox or a blindfold bros :3 i’ll actually cry if they break up TT–TT

i had to draw more starfox im still losing my mind...

im normal about them guys im normal im so normal

[arcade-confetti]

They are trying to convince me Jason was always reckless and angry and impulse and tbh that fact is worse than them killing him

[barbatos-sama]

this is an ask to the creator of the show this is so ominous. raggattha npc theory real maybe??

[maskedbyghost]

cw: manipulation, possessive reader, suggestive language

You told him you didn’t do casual.

You didn’t make it a big deal. You just said it like you meant it, not trying to sound dramatic or emotional about it. Just honest.

“I don’t do casual,” you said, eyes on your drink. “It always ends up messy, and I’m not built for that.”

Simon leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “That’s alright,” he said eventually. “I’m not looking for anything serious.”

You nodded. No reaction on your face, no shift in tone. “Then we can just be friends.”

He raised an eyebrow like he was trying to figure you out. “You sure?”

You smiled a little. “Yeah. I like hanging out with you. We don’t have to fuck.”

“…Alright,” he said, after a pause. “Friends.”

And that was the start.

Except friends don’t show up to his gym when he’s meeting a girl for a workout date.

Friends don’t slip him a text during his Tinder dinner like,

“you left your hoodie here again. i’m wearing it. smells like you.”

Friends don’t show up to the pub when he’s got plans with someone, all dolled up like you just rolled out of a damn music video, giving his date a once-over and offering a tight smile that says run, babe.

You’d always act surprised when things didn’t work out. “Oh no, she ghosted you? That’s so weird.”

And Simon? He wasn’t completely oblivious. But he was tired, and lonely, and honestly kind of lazy when it came to trying to figure women out, and you were just so easy to be around, so warm and funny and low-maintenance and somehow always around when he needed someone.

So when he started seeing you more than anyone else, it didn’t feel weird. It felt right.

He told himself it was just friendship.

Even when you leaned against him on the couch. Even when you started sleeping over. Even when he started feeling a little sick thinking about you with anyone else.

The night it finally changed, he had just come back from a shit deployment — nothing too dangerous, just long and annoying and cold, and you’d been waiting at his place (with your own key, because somehow that had happened), and you were in his clothes, curled up in his bed with takeout, and when he saw you like that he just… stopped thinking.

“You’re perfect for me,” he said quietly, almost like he was talking to himself.

You blinked, looking up from your phone. “What?”

“I was so fucking stupid,” he muttered, dropping his bag, walking toward you like something magnetic was pulling him in. “I didn’t see it. I don’t know why.”

You didn’t say anything right away. You just looked at him for a second, then smiled, slow and easy, like you’d been waiting for him to finally figure it out, like none of it really surprised you, but you were still happy to hear it out loud.

From there, it was easy.

The relationship happened fast. Slipped into place like it had always been there. He’d gone from “I don’t do serious” to leaving his toothbrush at your place, to falling asleep with his face buried in your neck, to holding your hand in public without even realizing he was doing it.

He was happy. Stupidly happy. The kind that made his friends suspicious and his coworkers tease him. The kind that made you look like the hero of some cozy domestic fantasy where nothing ever goes wrong and love is enough.

It wasn’t one big moment. It was a bunch of little ones that slowly added up until he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Like how you always just showed up when he had plans, how his phone would buzz with a text from you right before he left for a date. Or how you’d casually mention how certain girls “weren’t his type,” even when he never brought them up to you.

And then one day, while you were going through an old playlist together, you said, “God, I remember this song. I used to listen to it every time I thought about you with someone else.” And you didn’t even blink after saying it.

And the more he thinks about it, the more it starts adding up.

You’d played him. You’d baited him.

And now he’s sitting on the couch, watching you walk into the room in one of his old T-shirts, holding a bowl of snacks, looking like home, and he honestly doesn’t know whether to laugh or be pissed off or bend you over the arm of the sofa and remind you who he is.

You plop into his lap like you do it every day (because you do), nestling in like you’re settling into your rightful throne, and he wraps his arms around your waist automatically, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

“You know what I realized today?” he asks, voice low.

You hum. “What?”

He tilts his head like he’s thinking it through. “We’re together because you manipulated me.”

You pause for like… half a second. Then?

“Yeah,” you say, nonchalant. “And?”

He squints at you, mouth twitching like he can’t decide if he wants to smile or frown. “You sabotaged every girl I tried to hook up with.”

“I did,” you say, and lean forward to grab the remote. “Most of them were trash anyway.”

“You tricked me into thinking you weren’t interested.”

“Mhm.” You don’t even look at him. “Worked, didn’t it?”

There’s this long silence, and then Simon groans and lets his head fall back on the couch dramatically.

“I should be mad,” he mutters.

“You’re not,” you say, smiling down at him like he’s your prize. “You love me.”

“Fuck, woman,” he breathes, eyes locked on yours. “That turns me on.”

You grin, shifting your weight so you’re straddling him properly, hands sliding up his chest slowly until your fingers curl around the back of his neck. You squeeze—not hard, just enough to make him feel it.

“You belong to me,” you whisper against his ear. “Always have.”

He shivers. Actually shivers.

“…Jesus.”

You kiss his jaw, slow and smug. “Say it.”

“…Yours.”

“Good boy.”

And yeah. He is.

PART 2

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

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: 18+ mdni, Reader POV.

His name is Simon.  

He’s still stuck in your mind as Captain Riley, like it’s dug in there, claws unwilling to let go, and he says you don’t have to call him Simon if you don’t want to. Which is comforting, in its own strange way. 

Comforting just like his presence, the one that’s been at the bakery almost every day. You’ve been trying to keep to yourself, agonizing over the moment when it all comes crashing down, when he figures out how weird you are, but it’s not that easy.

He doesn’t let you hide. 

“What do you do when you’re not at work?” You resist the urge to wring your hands together, keeping your focus on the sidewalk, concentrating on the cracks, the leaves. 

You’re on a walk. With him. He asked you earlier when he came by as you were closing up, before you moved on to the rest of your work. 

“Take a break. Walk with me.” 

You couldn’t say no, though it took longer than it should have to get your “yes” out. 

He didn’t rush you. He never does. 

“Um,” You’re not much of a doer. You bake, you go home, you read, you watch the occasional tv show or movie, you work on recipes. You learned to embroider last year, and sometimes you add little flowers or such here and there to your work aprons but there’s nothing outside those things, no extracurriculars or exercise, no circle of friends to get a drink with on the weekends. Sometimes you hang out with Mara, who works the front at the bakery, but it’s rare. You’re not good with friendships usually. You keep to yourself, and that’s fine. Everything is easier that way. 

You guess Captain Riley could be considered a hobby. All the minutes you’ve spent holding your breath and watching the front door, waiting for him to walk through and make his way to the counter, all the times you’ve caught yourself staring at his hands, thick wrists and palms the size of dinner plates. He could probably crush a skull between them, crush you. It’s unhealthy, the way you think of him. The way you daydream about a man who’s probably old enough to be your father. The way you close your eyes in the middle of the day when it’s busy and you’re overwhelmed and the sound of the dishwasher is grating on you, just to picture his face, hear him calling you baby, feel his-

He says your name. Oh right. 

You shrug, trying to feign indifference, trying to brush it off. “I’m usually at home. Work takes it out of me.” That’s true. Work can be exhausting. Bending, scraping, kneading, lifting giant mixing bowls, pulling dough until you’re tired. Wrists, elbows, neck, all of them, ache. Price you pay for passion, you suppose. “I’m pretty boring.” 

“No you’re not. Just a bit nervous, yeah?” Your stomach twists. 

“I like to stick to the things I know, I guess.” 

“Less scary?” The truth is full of shame and you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to raise a shield that doesn’t exist. A smoke and mirror act that wouldn’t fool anyone. 

“Yeah, less scary.” He’s silent for a beat, and then turns to face you on the sidewalk, a finger under your chin, tipping your head back until your eyes are locked on his. 

“It’s okay, y’know?” Embarrassment floods, fire burning in your cheeks, and he tsks, wiping one of the tears trying to trickle down your skin. “None o’ that.” You smile, but it’s hollow. 

“Sorry.” 

“None of that either,” he bites out, and your spine straightens like a string has been pulled from your tailbone up through your neck. “There’s nothin’ wrong with it.” With what? With you? He’s joking. You almost snort, but the seriousness in his gaze stops you short. Steals your breath. 

You’ve made it around the block already, standing in the parking lot of the bakery, twilight purple and orange shining in the reflection of the big front window. Disappointment settles in your stomach like lead. He’s going to leave now, go back to wherever it is he goes, and you’ll be alone, elbows deep in cream and sugar, trying not to think about him for the hundredth, thousandth time. 

Might as well rip the band-aid off. “Well, um. Thanks f-for, uh…” if you say thanks for the walk, will you sound dumb? Does that make it sound like you’re a dog or something he took for a stroll? “The walk.” Yep. Dumb. 

“Goin’ back to work?” 

“Mhm. I’ve got this catering order for early pick up tomorrow.” 

“What’re you making?” 

“Meringue. Lemon. Pies.” You cringe, but he places a hand on your shoulder. It’s warm, warm like a blanket, a soft fuzzy thing you can curl up with in front of a fire. “Meringue is really the thing about the pies. The rest of it doesn’t really matter, that’s why I- ah… why I put it first.” The two of you drift towards the back door, more so you in his wake, and when he closes it behind the two of you, it’s natural, you don’t even question it. Him. 

“It’s science.” You place the bowl in front of where he’s sitting on a stool, and try not to look at the bulk of his thighs. He’s in some sort of uniform, but it’s more casual, less stiff. The fabric breathes and stretches across his body, his chest, his middle… the heaviness of his legs. The room is suddenly very hot, and you try to shake the distraction off. “All of baking is a science, actually. Cooking, you can salvage anything. Cooking is easy. Baking? Baking is chemistry.” You pull the cradle of eggs over, and roll one in your hand before cracking it, separating yolk from white. “Meringue is a perfect example. It only has four ingredients. How hard can it be?” You feel a little thrill roll through you, the kind of excitement you get when you’re just about to start turning a handful of ingredients into something, and the pressure builds up in your chest, muscles in your arms and neck going tight as you fight against an overzealous outburst. You tense so hard you shake for a second before you get a hold of yourself. “If the eggs aren’t the right temperature, if the bowl isn’t clean enough, if you add the sugar too fast, it all falls apart. The protein in the egg whites mix with the sugar and make the meringue stable, it's literally chemistry. That's the cool thing about it.” You look between him and the hand mixer, and everything dries up. You’re suddenly very aware you’ve been prattling on about how to make meringue like he cares, and you have to hold onto the edge of the butcher’s block to practically keep yourself up. The mortification is enormous and threatens to drown you in its viciousness, vile things playing on a loop inside your head as you grapple with what’s just happened. Stupid. 

He’s standing before you can blink. “What’s wrong?” 

“N-nothing, I- I just uh… I’m sorry.” Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. 

“For what?” You shake your head, but he doesn’t let it go, just comes around to the side and covers your hand with his. Warm again. Safe. “Tell me what’s wrong sweetheart.” The gentle coax in his voice turns stern, and you find yourself obeying before you can stop it. 

“Meringue, it’s so… w-why would you care about meringue?” 

“I don’t know anything about meringue,” he rubs two knuckles against the apple of your cheek, “you were teaching me.” 

“Oh.” 

“Y’know you go somewhere else when you talk about baking?” 

“What? I do?” He nods. 

“You’re free from the scary bits. You’re excited and… weightless. It’s precious,” he cups your face, touch slow and careful, “like you, precious little girl.” The air in the room has vanished, and your knees go weak, struggling to support you as your pulse races, butterflies swarming in the pit of your stomach. 

“C-captain Riley- I-” He steps back, your heart free falls to the floor. He’s studying you like there’s a riddle to be solved, analytical and hungry, something razor sharp and rolling with darkness lurking behind it all. It’s so intense, too intense, but fleeting, and vanishes within a second. A light’s been snuffed out, leaving you in the cold and clueless. 

“Will you teach me the rest?” 

“Um, yes?” It doesn’t sound like the human language. More like a mouse’s squeak, and you glance around, trying to get your bearings as he leans against the table with his arms crossed. 

It takes you a minute, or ten, to get back in the rhythm. You have to start over, which is fine, but you’re shivering a bit too much to handle the yolk separation, a different kind of anxiety rattling in your bones. It’s not until he palms the small of your back and tells you to take your time, that you settle and succeed. 

By the time it’s over, you’ve made ten pies for your order and one extra. 

“Do you want to try?” You hand him a fork. 

“Course.” You’re on the edge of your seat as he takes his first bite, watching his jaw move, his throat bobbing with each swallow. Then he takes another, and another, and another until half the pie is almost gone. You try to smother your giggle, but the effort is paltry, and he smiles at you in return. “Somethin’ funny?” Your teeth press into your bottom lip so hard it stings. 

“Nope, uh… do you like it?” 

“It’s delicious sweetheart. You’re really good at this.” Tingles of pride flush through you from fingers to toes, and you bounce on the balls of your feet a little bit. 

“I’ll send the rest home with you.” You slide the pie tin into a box and he shakes his head.

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“I want to!” You blurt, and then bite your tongue, looking down at peaks of meringue. “I w-want to, it’s my-” you snap ‘love language’ back before it manages to escape, horrified at yourself. “I like it, feeding you, um, feeding people.” You’re sweating. You can feel it starting to bead along your spine, the back of your neck, and you wonder if you’ll get hot enough to melt into the floor and disappear. 

“If you’re sure,” he murmurs as he forks another piece of the pie free. “You didn’t have any though.” 

“Oh,” it’s your factory setting response at this point. Oh. Can’t you think of anything else? “Th-that’s okay, I don’t always eat my own… stuff.” 

“Why’s that?” You’ve turned fully towards him now, and he’s still so close, close enough to see the ribbons of caramel in his irises. 

“It’s not for me, usually. I mean, I eat of course, and taste test, but I don’t do it for me. I do it as a job and for other people.” 

“Hmm. That’s a shame,” the bite is still sitting there, waiting, and you’re just about to ask him if he’s going to eat it when he lifts it to your lips. “Open.” 

It’s not a request. It’s an order, a directive, and your thighs squeeze into one another, riptide of confusing want, desire, dragging you out to sea. 

Your lips part- 

and then Captain Riley is feeding you. It’s a small bite, tart-sweet on your tongue. Lemon and sugar crusted clouds linger as you swallow, but nothing matters except for the man in front of you, pulling a fork from your mouth, his eyes never leaving yours- 

“Good girl.” Heaven. Hell. Words disappear like you never learned a single vowel. Your body becomes a never ending live wire. You’re out of your element, you don’t even have an element, not truly. Your element is here, in kitchen of the bakery, alone with flour and sugar and piping bags. Your element isn’t… it’s not this. Not this man, this older man, this brutally handsome man who towers over you, this man with his perfectly imperfect nose and scar on his cheek, with big hands and a voice you could drown in. Not this man standing in front of you, telling you you’re a good girl, staring like he wants to consume you. “How’s that?” 

“U-uh, um. It’s… it’s good.” You don’t recognize your voice. It’s high pitched and trembling, the waver it in matching the shaking of your limbs, your entire body. 

“Do you want another?” Yes. No. You don’t know. 

“I…” you’re flailing, but he instead of pushing you, instead of trying to fit a circle into a square, he merely thumbs your cheek, drags the calloused pad down to ghost across your bottom lip.  

“It’s okay baby, take your time. Do you want another bite?” There’s a hummingbird in your chest, trilling a million miles a minute, and you nod automatically. 

“Please.” You whisper, and he obliges. You don’t care to have another bite of pie, but you do want more of this. So much more of something you’re not sure you can have, something you definitely don’t understand. Some sort of dream that doesn’t happen for people like you. 

Your phone vibrates. It lights up on the other side of the table and your stomach pitches, first out of panic, and then out of dread. 

Spell broken. Fairytale over. 

“That’s my bedtime. My bedtime reminder, I mean.” You just told him you have a bedtime like you’re five. Nice. “I’m usually in bed… by now. I get up really early on some days for prep and other stuff, and I’m a ten hours of sleep a night kind of girl, so, uh, I try to stay consistent with my routines and stuff, but I’m pretty bad at it. That’s why I have the alarm…” Stop talking. 

“I’m sorry I kept you.” 

“No!” You reach for him and then think better of it, fisting your hand at your side instead. “N-no, I’m glad you’re here. I just have this early pick up tomorrow, but it’s no big deal, I’ll-” 

“go home and go to bed. Do you have anything else you need to do?” Stern again, like he's serious about enforcing your bedtime, like he cares about you getting enough sleep. 

“Not really, I just leave the dishes in the sink for tomorrow.” He tucks the pie box into his arm and motions to the back door. 

“I’ll wait for you to lock up.” 

He gives you his number and makes you promise to text him when you get home, which you do, dutifully, laying in bed, curled up beneath your blankets, typing out a hazy message with one eye open. 

>Home. In bed. Thanks for hanging out. 

The text back comes only a few minutes later. 

>Goodnight sweetheart. 

>Goodnight Captain Riley. 

[svbhuman]

idk man. i should be humble and whatnot but i have to defend myself

[4-the-l0ve-0f-art]

“The Captain’s beloved…wait, what?!”

Capitano x Gender Neutral Reader one shot

Work count: 2.2k

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship

Rating: General Audiences

Trigger Warnings: none

Summary: The fatui discover that their Captain does, in fact, have a life outside of work and gossip between the ranks ensues. (Cue silly fatui shenanigans)

Ao3 Link

Capitano, the Fatui’s first lord and harbinger, contrary to popular belief, was respected and admired by his platoons rather than feared. There was a widespread misunderstanding both in and outside the organization that the Captain was a harsh and dangerous leader due to his mysterious nature. However, the people who worked under him knew better as they had grown to admire him the more they interacted with him.

He held himself with pride and treated his soldiers the same way he wanted to be treated: with respect and dignity. And in return, they learned the depths of this man’s strategic genius and strength. His strength was unmatched in combat and led his people well with good decision making and training. They could only hope to be as good as him in his various fields of expertise.

He was strict, and quick to discipline unruly fatuus, yes, but that did not stop others under his command from admiring him. And to emphasize this even more, it was clear that his fellow harbingers and even the Tsarista respected him, whether their goals and morals aligned with his or not. However, this made the people around him curious about aspects related to him outside of his work and title. He was a revered public figure and people were naturally curious about his personal life.

This is where you came in. You, his one and only beloved, the only person who held his whole heart in your hands. Not many people knew of this, but the Captain was a gentle man at his core, and you had somehow managed to uncover all of his being and see him fully as himself, without his title, without his strength. You knew this man inside and out, just as he had come to know you. It was a mutual love, one which even he did not know he was capable of feeling, and that made him all the more enamored with you.

This, however, people did not know. So you can imagine the surprise on their faces when you, an ordinary civilian, came to the Zapalyarny Palace and asked for directions to the Captain’s office. The clerk at the desk looked at you blankly, as if she were staring at an anomaly. This prompted you to try and explain yourself.

“..I’m here to drop off his lunch. So, if you don’t mind..?” You asked.

No response. The blank stare continued.

You already knew that you looked out of place in this grand palace with no Fatui uniform or mask on. But you were determined to make sure your beloved got his lunch, which you had specifically decided to make for him that day as a special treat for how hard he had been working while preparing for a business trip to Natlan.

“Excuse me..?” You said a little louder this time. That seemed to snap her back to reality.

“You cannot enter this place, only authorized personnel are allowed inside. If you’d like to meet our lord, please book your appointment accordingly.” She replied on autopilot, as if she’d rehearsed the same sentence multiple times.

“I’m sorry, I know you have your duties, but I’m here just to drop off his lunch. You can check with him yourself if you’d like..”

“He’s busy at the moment, please leave your package here and we will deliver it to him.” She replied. It seemed like you were being studied like a suspicious person who was attempting to sneak in.

Fair enough.. you thought. I was hoping I would get to spend a few minutes with him and see how he was holding up at work but that can wait till he’s home. And she’s not wrong, I did drop by without notice, so it makes sense for them to be suspicious.

Fatui soldiers passing by had also been glancing at the ongoing conversation at the front desk, eyeing the lunch box wrapped in patterned cloth in your hands with raised eyebrows. You decided to leave the food there, getting one last word in before leaving.

“If you could, please make sure it reaches him soon. It’s his favorite meal and I would prefer it didn’t go cold before he ate it.”

And then everyone watched as your ordinary self left, unaware of the number of eyes on you.

…

A pyroslinger skirmisher stationed near the entrance asked dumbfoundedly, “Did..did they just say that was the Captain’s favorite meal? Our lord harbinger?”

A cryogunner skirmisher who had also watched the whole thing go down as he clocked in asked another question right after, in the same state of confusion as the previous fatuus. “..Has anyone seen them around before? They don’t look like someone who would be seen standing next to Lord Capitano.”

And as the just as confused clerk left the scene towards his office with your goods in hand, excited chatter filled the halls.

Chaos would be the right word for it. You had left chaos in your wake with a simple visit to his workplace.

…

That night, as you and Capitano settled in to relax in your shared home after a long day of work, you asked him how his lunch was.

“It was delicious, my love.” He replied, gently caressing your face with his hands while looking down at you through his mask. “It felt like a treat to have your home cooked meal at work. You didn’t have to, but thank you. It made my day.”

You smiled and took his hands in yours as you nuzzled into his touch. “I’m glad you liked it. I was going to give it to you myself but I couldn’t enter the place.”

“You should visit more often. I’ll let the security personnel know to let you enter so you can come and go as you like.” He paused, clearing his throat. “..Seeing you in the middle of a long day would bring me relief.”

You felt slightly flushed at his straightforward choice of words. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you being so..open with me. But I like it, of course. I would like that as long as I’m not disturbing you at work.”

Capitano chuckled. It was like the angels decided to bless you today, really. “I will always make time for you, my love. Just as you do for me.”

You beamed. “Okay, okay, let’s get some sleep now, Mr. Loverman. We still have work tomorrow in case you’re forgetting.”

A kiss on the forehead and the rustling of sheets was all you heard before you were whisked away to dreamland.

…

Unbeknownst to you and Capitano, however, word about you spread like wildfire across the next few days between the excited fatui soldiers. Some from even the different departments under the other harbingers might’ve heard. The person who looked like a civilian, dropping lunch packed in pretty cloth for their Lord did not go unnoticed.

This was the only time someone unrelated to work had been seen asking for their Captain and questions about your relation to him were on the tip of everyone’s tongue during break times.

Two fatuus gossiped as they watched the Captain spar in training with his fellow soldiers, admiration evident in their eyes.

“Someone dropped off lunch for him? I thought he would be too busy having meals with high rankers from across Teyvat.”

And after a short pause the other replied, “Dude, hold on, does he even eat? I thought he was superhuman or something.”

“I know you’re dumb, but I didn’t know you were that dumb, my guy.”

“Hey! Just saying… anyway, are we even sure the people weren’t hallucinating when they saw the person drop lunch off for him?”

“I heard it was his favorite meal, freshly cooked, apparently. Who knows, man? Maybe it was a fan or something. Our lord does have a pretty big following, y’know.” The fatuus stated proudly.

Their lively chatter continued until they were called back into training.

…

A few days later, as soon as you found the time, you decided to visit Capitano at work with yet another home cooked meal. You wanted to make most of your time with him before he traveled to Natlan and having meals together would be a good way to wind down a little.

You entered the palace yet again, determined to meet him this time. It should be fine, right? He did say he would inform them..

And as you had hoped so, he did, in fact, inform them. As soon as the same clerk from before saw you, it seemed like her eyes were bulging out of her sockets. All you had to do was reach the desk and she confirmed your name and led you to the training grounds, where he was currently working. It seemed like some sort of training session was in the works, with all kinds of combat taking place between the soldiers in the distance.

Before you could ask her if you were even allowed to enter this place, she bowed and hurried back in the direction of the front desk. The strange behavior didn’t go unnoticed by you but now you had to find your way to Capitano across the opposite side of the field. Since you were here at last, why not just see things through?

The middle of the field was the most densely occupied with various people fighting in different groups, while what you recognised as skirmishers were practicing their aim at dummy targets on the right side. The soldiers were hard at work even in the harsh everlasting winter of Snezhnaya. The left side of the field, however, seemed less crowded compared to the rest as people seemed to be setting up their gear or resting. Your Captain, opposite to you across the field, was busy conversing with a group of soldiers who seemed to be listening to him attentively.

You decided your best option was to take the left side. It would be easier to walk through the calm atmosphere over there.

As you made your way through the crowd, people started to notice you. They were pretty intimidating with their weapons and muscled bodies at display so you decided to be extra careful to not bump into anyone and quickly made your way across, and as you got closer, Capitano’s voice became clear.

“The heat in Natlan will be unbearable. You will be stationed in the wild all day, so make sure you have the appropriate supplies to get you through the day. It is of the utmost importance that...what, what is it? Why are you all staring at me like that?”

The group’s attention shifted from him to you, as you stood behind him and tapped his shoulder.

“Capitano, do you have a moment..?” You asked as he turned around, his armor clinking from the movement.

“Oh, my love!” He exclaimed in a soft voice. “What brings you here? Hold on, let's get you back inside. You’ll catch a cold here.”

The group (and everyone nearby) watched in complete awe as his demeanor from before completely switched from authoritative to somewhat… joyfull? Was Lord Capitano being affectionate?

“I brought you lunch, but I can leave it in your office if you’re busy right now.” You said hurriedly, not wanting to keep him busy.

“No, that won’t do, my love.” He took the package from you and placed his hand on your back. “Eat with me inside.”

He then turned back to the group, who jolted straight up at his sudden change. “Finish the supply preparations once you’re done training. All of you are dismissed.”

“Y-yes, my lord!” They replied in unison and bowed. And yet again, they watched in awe as he guided you back inside the palace, ever so gently, one hand on your back and the other carrying a box wrapped up in a floral patterned cloth. A stark contrast to his all black and blue outfit.

…

As soon as both of you were out of sight, chaos erupted yet again, more loudly this time, with multiple voices talking over the other.

“”My love?” Did he just call them “my love?” Did I hear that right?!”

“What was that? What did we just witness?”

“That was so romantic, holy shit! Was that the same person we take orders from everyday? What the hell?!”

“DID THE LORD HARBINGER JUST… GET VISITED BY THEIR SPOUSE?”

“I thought that ring on his finger was for fashion…”

And that is how they found out that their beloved Captain, who seemed to have no soul outside of his work, was a married man with a loving spouse.

This proceeded to be the hottest gossip in the Fatui for the rest of the month, until they discover more about you from another future visit.

…

BONUS:

Sitting in the privacy of his office, you enjoyed your meal together.

“..You seem to work with very strange people, Capitano.” You said to him.

“Do I? How so?” He asked before you fed him a bite.

“Hm.. actually, nevermind. It would be even stranger if they weren’t strange, considering they work with you.” You chuckled.

You enjoyed your time together and went back home, leaving your beloved in confusion from your conversation, and the sight of you fondly feeding him for him to think about for the rest of the day.