#ooc: and even though I looked every which way I could not find a good date to fit a canon Easter egg

[r0tting-rat]

"Too much?"

A little gift for @/ping-ski, who is driving me absolutely mad with their Sugar Daddy!Eclipse to the point I couldn't help but to write down a short drabble. Some details below for those who aren't familiar with their wonderful au (GO CHECK IT OUT RN PLEASE IT'S WORTH IT)

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Eclipse (by @ping-ski) x Gender Neutral Reader Warning: Suggestive, use of alcohol/reader is tipsy. Also, sorry Pingu, he might be a bit ooc! I wasn't sure how flirty I could make him Words: 1200+ Summary: It's the winder holidays, and you just came home after a long evening spent with your dear beloved. Additional tags: Established relationship, Eclipse is a wonderful father, the kid's name is Atlas.

The weather outside is frigid, wind is howling against the tall windows, but the inside of Eclipse's house is warm and inviting. You've just come home after a very long evening with your beloved, an evening that left you feeling elated and giddy like a highschooler—a time of your life that you have long left behind, even though your cheeks still have the habit of warming up whenever your robotic lover looks your way and your stomach flutters at each time you kiss. You have waved goodbye to Esther, Atlas' nanny, just a few minutes before, and she has assured you that the little boy has been fast asleep for a few hours already. You don't miss how Eclipse smiles when she tells him how the boy asked for his "papa" before falling asleep.

"I'll cook him his favourite breakfast tomorrow," he says, more to himself than to you or Esther, "As an apology for my tardiness."

The house is silent, Atlas is soundly sleeping, and you have drunk a little more than usual at the restaurant. For no real reason! It was just a very good wine: fruity, amazingly aged, heavy on the tongue and warm in the gullet. You can still feel it when you swallow down the bile forming in the back of your throat—which is a lot, considering you have stared at Eclipse for the entire ride home, lost in the thought of kissing him as soon as his face turned your way.

You sigh as you step into your shared house, not worried about waking Atlas with the sound of your shoes on the marbled floor thanks to the good soundproofing of the rooms, and you decide to go sit on the couch to rest your tired feet. You and Eclipse had decided to take a walk around the city centre after leaving the restaurant, simply to enjoy the Christmas decorations that have been put up in every corner of the city, and before you knew it you were about to collapse. Closing your eyes, you let yourself drop on the soft cushions of the couch, but a cold hand catches you by the waist before you can truly be enveloped by the rich fabrics. Unsurprised, you open your eyes just to find an amused Eclipse staring right back down at you, half-lidded eyes and soft silicone lips extremely close to your flushed face—blush still caused by the alcohol, mind you—he chuckles, and the flush deepens just enough to reach your neck and chest. Eclipse's eyes travel down a moment to follow it as it spreads like ink on your soft skin, and you pretend not to notice that he never really goes back to look you in the eyes, stopping instead on your lips.

"How about a dance?" he asks, out of the blue, and you giggle.

"Dancing with no music? How romantic, Eclipse," you say, before realizing he's completely serious.

The animatronic hums, and immediately his grip on your waist strengthens, and that's your only warning before he pulls you back on your feet to sweep you into a mind-twisting dance. You don't understand where he's taking you, you don't understand what's around you, all you know is that one of his hands is holding one of yours, while the other is placed on the small of your back. You dance in the middle of the large living room, feeling wine-red clouds crowding your mind and your sight slightly unfocusing, and you couldn't be happier.

You don't even have to actually do anything; Eclipse has a firm hold on you, and he's always careful not to spin you too fast, in case it could upset your stomach. All you have to do is let yourself go—one hand on one of his upper arms, one of his shoulder—and allow him to manhandle you into beautiful twirls and languid strides. You rest your head on his warm chest, hearing his inner gears and pistons at work, and the world around you is so hazy you might forget it exists. You sigh and think that maybe that's actually all you need in life: a cold evening, a warm embrace, some soothing wine, and Eclipse's love.

The dance stops after just 5 minutes—which feel like hours to you—and you and your partner simply stand one in the other's arms, like two lovers painted by Klimt, sharing the same passion, familiarity, and devotion. Except, differently from Klimt's picture, your beloved is holding you with four arms instead of two.

"How do you feel?" asks Eclipse after a long pause, and the only answer you can manage to utter is a murmur, "I didn't hear you, my dearest."

"Amazingly," you finally say, groggily looking up at him, "I wanna kiss you."

"Sounds like a perfect plan," he grins, "But how do you plan to enact it? Can you even reach my face?"

He laughs, and, a little offended, you do kiss him. You stand on your tippy toes, you crane your neck, and kiss his jaw; the only spot your lips can reach, but it's enough to make him stop and look down at you, surprised that you actually took the lead.

"Wanna try again, love?" he teases, having already recovered from your kiss, leaning down a little, "Or do I need to pick you up?"

His laugh is mocking, and once more you consider showing him what you're actually capable of—should you climb him like a tree? The idea is tempting—until you stop and actually think about his words.

"Yes," you say, parting from him just to look at his beautiful mismatched eyes. "I do, actually."

Eclipse stops laughing, then hums, growing more amused by the second.

"Okay."

In less than a second you're hoisted up between his bulky arms, legs on either side of his hips, face right in front of his, and your arms thrown over his shoulders.

"Much better," you smile sweetly at him, slowly letting your hands wander to the back of his head, then to his bottom rays, which you caress with a lot of care, and lastly to his neck. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, my doll," he sing-songs, not really noticing what you're doing with your fingers until his tie comes undone on his chest and his elegant button-up opens, letting the vents placed on the side of his chest breathe in fresh air. He looks down, seeing your fingers tracing his torso while unbuttoning his shirt, and his black and golden optics widen with interest. It's your turn to grin.

"Too much?" you ask, and Eclipse begins to make a rumbling sound with his voicebox, a sound that reminds you of a purr, deep and warm when it resonates with your chest and stomach.

"Not enough," he whispers, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, toying with your breath with the way you're holding it back, afraid he could sense through it exactly how much you craved him. His voice is low, dangerous, and you feel it vibrate in the depths of your mind when he speaks. "Not nearly enough, not in any way, my doll. Let me kiss you properly this time, will you?"

You all should thank @hexcii cuz I started writing this drabble during one of our simping sessions (we take turns rambling and yapping about the dca) and yea. we both got the i'm-gay-for-robots virus.

[your-local-grinning-cat]

Would you be open to a possible Birthday Fanart of you once I finish with all the NRC boys and Rollo?

Granted the only problem is I don't know when your birhday is haha

I would LOVE birthday fanart! 💜

Unfurtunately, my birthday was December 9th, so it has already passed.

I’m a purroud Sagittarius! ♐️ It’s purrfect for me, even the color associated with it is purrple! 😸

But since it’s already passed, does that mean I don’t get any presents? 🥺

Could I get it as an unbirthday present instead? That’s why I purrfer unbirthdays! You only get one birthday, but you get 364 unbirthdays~! 😸🥳

[dollyichi]

IN-STORE EXCLUSIVE

katsuki bakugou x f ! reader ᯓ★ 1.7k words. fluff / both are pro-heroes / maybe a little ooc but idc / no established relationship, he likes you though / hints on mutual feelings / not proofread

you catch him buying your merch during a morning patrol.

katsuki’s currently getting ready for the day. it’s his day off and could’ve chosen stayed in as usual, but he had an agenda. he’s already thinking of it while he’s tying his shoes, how he could approach it the best he can. well, maybe a bit too seriously.

he thinks it’s stupid but he’s been wanting to visit this new merch store in the city that opened the other day. he missed the big opening, which was fine—better not to get ‘caught’ and bring any attention to him, especially not when midoriya’s the main guest for the opening promotions. he doesn’t want midoriya to run his mouth in front of everybody.

it’s still early morning, and he hopes not a lot of people were in the area, assuming most of them are busy or on the way to work, so their routes should be different from the one he’ll take. he even made sure to check who’s patrolling. it’s just todoroki today, so he didn’t mind. it’s a secluded area, having to pass an alley to enter the store’s street no one should be there anymore since most exclusives for the grand opening should be sold out.

with a huff, he locks the front door and makes his way to the shop. pushing down his cap further. kids were able to recognize him though, giving him a wave while their parents apologized. “i’m on a secret mission kid.” he says as a joke and they nod in enthusiasm, happy to see a hero at work. “pfft.” he laughs to himself when the kid salutes him and goes back to his mother.

once he gets to the store, he’s scanning the area, only a few people were inside. it’s pretty big, seeing how there were also other merch aside from the heroes section.

the staff greets him a good morning from the counter and he gives him a nod. he checks his face if he remembered to put his face mask on. he sighs in relief feeling the cloth on his mouth and goes to the heroes aisle—he looks like a creep the staff doing rounds almost wanted to kick him out.

“lots of me in here.” he mumbles to himself.

he thinks it’s crazy how high the prices were for a figurine of him (the manufacturers usually gives it to him for free). he looks around, cringing when he sees midoriya and todoroki’s section. “shit’s not even worth the damn thing.” he thinks, but then again, he’s a dumb hypocrite.

it’s already a pain to even get to the store. he could’ve ordered anything he wanted to online but this line of collectibles were in-store exclusive and it just happened to be in this store which was a relief. he really would’ve drove to a different city just for it—though, it was also dangerous if someone catches him. he could’ve asked anyone to buy for him too, even thought of todoroki to purchase for him but that man doesn’t have the same shame he would have if he gets seen. plus he didn’t like the idea of a dating rumor of you and todoroki if he’s seen with the merchandise.

he was only supposed to buy one figurine, but ends up buying a few more, pin buttons and one big plushie that he finds really cute of you. he chuckles to himself when it got that ‘same dumb smile’ you always have on your face—the one that causes his heart to skip a beat, even when he didn’t want it to.

this all started when midoriya found out about his little crush when katsuki got into an accident with a victim they saved. it was a big mission where several individuals in the area went missing, turns out a whole gang was using them for blackmail and ransom. every hero in the area, including you, were tracking every villain involved in this case.

a little girl in hostage activated her ‘truth quirk’ when she clung onto the blonde. midoriya was asking him what he’s thinking of—he meant what to do with the villains—instead, katsuki said, “i think y/n’s really pretty tonight.” and he slaps his mouth, he didn’t mean to say that.

apparently the kid’s quirk manages to bring out the deep inner thoughts of the person they used their ability on. “t-that’s n-nice kac- dynamight but i’m asking about the villain… hehe.”

the quirk lasted the whole night and he made sure to keep him mouth shut, having midoriya talk for him instead for their initial report. because when he answered another question from the green haired hero the only thing that ever left his mouth was about you. how he wished he was doing this mission with you instead, or about how many people you saved that night.

eventually midoriya gives him a TCG of you and while he wanted to act like he didn’t want it, it sent shivers down his spine thinking midoriya would have a photo of you, so he takes it (keeps it in his wallet too).

then he got even more invested when he saw collectors online, showing off their ‘rare y/n merchandise’ which got him seething too. he’s not gonna lose, not at all.

which brings him here.

he heads over to the counter with his head down. the staff notices the pink hue on the tips of his fingers and laughs (pissed katsuki real bad). “you like her too huh? i think she could definitely be a top 5 hero soon.” they say. katsuki doesn’t respond instead waits for his total and pays with his card. “fucking nerd shouldn’t talk about her at all.” he thinks. in fact, he thinks your ‘weird fans’ shouldn’t even breathe the same air as you. treating you like some idol, it’s fucking gross.

“have a great day sir!” he takes a breather when he gets out the store. a paper bag in one hand, and the plushie around his arm. he thinks he looks pathetic right now but it’s not like anyone would notice him if he gets home quick, right?

he walks fast but not too much to get him any unwanted attention. taking the same route home quietly and fast.

though he stops in his tracks before even exiting the alley, seeing todoroki waving to him. “you have y/n’s merch?”

katsuki takes off his mask, “mind your business half n’ half bastard.” and walks away flipping him off. it’s fine, it didn’t bother him too much if todoroki were to see anyway.

however, the icy-hot hero was just about to warn him what’s up ahead but it was too late, katsuki’s already gone.

he could’ve hit a perfect home run until he’s stopped on the sidewalk by someone he definitely didn’t want to see right now.

“katsuki?” he internally panics when he hears you. too in shock he looks up from the ground, flashing you his eyes. he blinks and immediately ignores you by walking away, tucking the plushie in his jacket. yet you follow him, already floating to his side with a curious smile. “just what is it with this area suddenly?” he’s mentally screaming right now.

you knew those pair of eyes anywhere no matter how much he tried to cover it. “you’re on patrol right now, huh?” he says with a low voice.

“yup with shou! did you see him? he went first before i did.” you chirp, “didn’t think i’d see you today with…” you look down to see a bag full of your own merch and your newest plushie’s head peeking out of his jacket, “me?”

katsuki’s face turns red. if it was even possible, smoke would be coming out of his ears since he’s been caught by the worst person—fate is really messing with him today. “i’m buying this for that dumb izuku!” he lies, hoping you’d buy it, but you could only giggle. “really? i don’t think you’d do that for him though?” katsuki curses under his breath.

“look kats i’m real flattered. could i take a picture of you like this?” you clap, floating around him.

“fuck off! don’t push your luck. besides, shouldn’t you be on fucking patrol?” he shakes his head and tries to loose you again, unfortunately for him, you’re quicker.

“mhm! you’re right.” you say, “but i only have a few minutes left before i switch shifts.” he’s not even looking at you. “besides i went extra early for today.” you take a quick glance at what’s inside the bag. “it’s a really good thing i did! real great!” you giggle. katsuki’s really flustered, hoping you’d just go away soon and you’d forget about this in an hour. to add more to his rapidly beating heart, you look so good in your hero costume. the fan in him wanted you to sign the toys he just got—well, as if he’d do that at all, he really planned to take this ‘secret’ to the grave (it’s okay to shoot your shot katsuki!)

he seemed lost in thought, and it was the perfect opportunity for you take your phone out and get a quick picture of him before you fly off. katsuki flinches when he hears the ‘click’ but you’re already so up high, laughing away and he’s screaming a string of curses at you.

he didn’t know who to blame, but he knew he fucked up even more when he gave you that stupid excuse. “what the fuck…” he says through his teeth, rubbing his temples with one hand as he walks back home.

katsuki never feels shame, but there’s always that stupid thing you do to him to feel things he’s never bothered to before—right now it’s embarrassment.

tomorrow was supposed to be his shift to patrol with you. he doesn’t even know how to face you after that. when he gets home he immediately sets it up and lays down on his couch.

after a few hours he gets a text from you. ‘i got one of yours after my shift!’ is what it read and it was a small chibi doll of him. you’re so adorable holding the mini version of him close to your face while you’re in your costume, he couldn’t help but save it.

he thinks, “wait, what does that mean?” does it mean you like him too? what’s even the point of you doing all that for his sake?

he then gets another message from you. a picture of him walking out the alley with a smile, clutching the plushie while todoroki’s looking from behind him. sometimes he really hates your flying abilities even when he thinks it’s the coolest.

“ha… you knew all this. well two can play that game.” as if he could even try to embarrass you after that.

oh whatever. he never loses, right?

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : i feel like i keep embarrassing reader in front of kats so it’s payback time :p i didn’t mean for this to be so long omg. MINORS AND AGLESS BLOGS DO NOT FOLLOW ME!

[ivohex]

Hello! Hope you're having a good day ☺️🌸

I have a tiny fluffy request if that's alright... What if MC/reader wears a super fluffy oversized hoodie which makes her look super fluffy and cozy (especially when she puts on the hood) and the lnds boys take one look at her and just wants to glomp her in a bear hug? How do they deal with the cuteness aggression?

Cute Aggression || LaDS

Tara gifts you an extremely oversized hoodie. Your boyfriend finds it... cute. Unbearably cute.

Make sure to reblog and tell me who is ur favorite in the tags 🤭🤭

Pairings: Xavier/reader, Zayne/reader, Rafayel/reader, Sylus/reader (separate)

Rating: G-T (slightly suggestive, blame Sylus)

Tags: gender neutral reader, FLUFFFFF, established relationship, maybe ooc for sylus?? i did my best, cute AGGRESSION from raf, xav being sly, zayne being a nerd (thanks wikipedia), me fighting for my life to write hoodie and not hoddie omg

A/N: tysm for this prompt, I giggled while writing these (esp Raf's and Xav's.) I hardly ever write fluff so this was fun for me. Hope you like them!!! <3

Tara got the hoodie for you as a present. The Hoodie, as she formally dubbed it, claimed a mysterious power: one which made the wearer irresistible. The Hoodie had grown so popular they were nearly impossible to find, but Tara had her ways.

She'd presented it to you with a twinkle in her eyes. "I'm serious! This hoodie is magical!"

"Evol?" you questioned, accepting the package from Tara gleefully.

She shook her head. "No. Magic! Just," she'd said, placing a hand on your shoulder, "Trust me."

After work, you head straight to your boyfriend's place...

More below the cut!

"What's this?" Xavier asks, poking the bag with a finger.

"I got a gift," you say, then clarify, "From Tara," before he has a chance to interrogate you further.

You open the package together and stare at the hoodie. It's so big that you could shove Xavier's oversized beanbag chair in it with room to spare.

Xavier brings a thoughtful hand to his chin. "It looks... comfortable."

You agree. Eagerly, you yank it on, wiggling your arms through the sleeves, which are so long they hang off your hands. Then you turn to face Xavier, and nearly stumble backwards, because he's suddenly right in front of you.

"X-Xavier? What's wrong?"

There's a strange gleam in his eyes. He tugs you to the couch, pulls you to his side, and wraps his arms around you.

Blushing, you look up at him. "What are you doing?"

"Checking to see how soft it is." He squeezes you tighter to his chest.

"Ow," you say, even though you don't really mean it.

You end up putting on a silly drama, one you've seen many times. You expect Xavier will just fall asleep partway like usual.

But that doesn't appear to be the case this time. He keeps nuzzling his face into the hoodie, like a giant housecat trying to soak up your body heat. Every so often, he grips your arms or hips or thighs, and you start to worry he'll leave handprints if he keeps it up.

"You're not even watching!" you chide him softly.

He plays with the too-long sleeves. "Hm?"

Huffing, you start to repeat yourself. "I said—"

"I'm cold," he says suddenly, and he adds on a full-body shiver to boot. You aren't sure you buy it, but... "Aren't you cold?"

"How can I be?" you answer, snorting. You make a token effort to writhe out of his grasp, but he just holds you tighter.

"Yeah, your hoodie looks pretty warm," he murmurs, sighing. Then he looks away again, shivering, and rubbing his arms.

"Pfft. Do you want to try it on?"

Really, you should have known better.

He just smiles at you, as if that's what he'd wanted you to say, then suddenly shoves your shoulder. You topple backwards onto the cushion with a gasp, as he pulls the hoodie up and wriggles in alongside you. Then he pushes his arms through the sleeves and entwines his fingers with your own.

Evidently pleased with himself, he sighs happily and leans against you. "Yeah, this is much better."

"I thought you said your friend got you a hoodie," Zayne says. He reaches forward to adjust the hood's collar, which had gotten twisted somehow as you pulled it on. "This looks more like a tent with arms to me."

You lift your arm and look at the comically long sleeve. "It's... Tara said it's magical."

You feel your cheeks warming. You didn't need to say that, only you couldn't think of how else to respond.

"Oh?"

Zayne takes a seat in his recliner, tugging you along with him so that you end up sitting on his lap. Then he takes the hoodie strings and begins quietly winding them around his index finger. He's quiet for a long moment.

You lightly shake his shoulders, blushing. "...You're not saying anything."

"Your face is red," he replies without missing a beat. "What? I thought we were taking turns stating the obvious."

You open your mouth to say something smart when he suddenly hugs you, squeezing you against his chest. Not too firmly, but with enough strength that you begin to put together what's happening.

You push him back so you can look into his eyes, fixing him with a smug grin. "Zayne, have you ever heard of cute aggression?"

He scoffs, but smiles back. "I probably know more than you do. Should I give you a lesson? When a human sees something they think is... cute, activity in the orbitofrontal cortex increases. Then the body produces neurohormones, which may stimulate feelings of both affection and aggression. They can manifest like this," he says, pinching your cheeks.

"I see." The words come out garbled and strange because he's still pulling your cheeks. He chuckles.

"Or," he says, moving his lips to your shoulder. "Like this." Then he bites down, and you can feel his teeth even through the fleece.

You squirm on his lap. "Hey! You can't just bite someone because you think they're cute..."

"I can't, or you don't want me to?"

"...Hmph. Why do you know so much about cute aggression, anyways? You had a whole lecture prepared. Aren't you a heart surgeon, Dr. Zayne?" You poke his chest to emphasize your point.

He captures your hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the back of it. It could be a trick of the light, but you swear that his ears are turning red. "...Finding something cute is a matter of the heart. Wouldn't you agree?"

Rafayel watches you open Tara's gift with a curious eye. You stare at the hoodie together.

Rafayel snorts. "That's a lot of hoodie."

You shrug and pull it on. As you do, you lock eyes again with Rafayel, who just stands here staring at you, a dumb look on his face.

Things snowball from there.

He keeps grabbing your face and squishing your cheeks while muttering under his breath. It's funny at first until he leans forward and nibbles on your cheek, and you realize a little too late that he'd been arguing with himself not to.

"You bit me!" It didn't really hurt, but it did shock you.

"I can't help it," he says, looking as mystified as you feel. "You just look so... biteable. Let me do it again—"

You wrestle playfully until he traps you in his arms, hugging you to his chest so tightly that you actually gasp for air. "Ugh! Rafayel, you big bully—"

"This is your fault! You've turned me into some sort of monster!"

Then, he won't let you go. He holds you against his chest and coos at you like you're a baby. He keeps trying to bite you, and you keep dodging out of the way as best you can.

"Stooop! You're embarrassing me!"

He pays you no mind. "My scrumptious cutie," he says dreamily, giggling. "My succulent pufferfish. My—"

Unable to withstand this torture any further, you yank the hoodie up and draw the strings tight to hide your face.

"Waaaait, you're running away?" he cries. "Is it because I keep squishing you?"

Your answer comes out muffled. "And biting me."

You feel him poking your sides. "Okay, I'll stop! Please come out. Please?"

After much begging and pleading on Rafayel's part, you finally relent. When you push the hood back, you see the guilty look on his face, the tips of his ears bright red. You stare at each other wordlessly for a moment.

You pat his arm in mock sympathy. "Wanna talk about it?"

He leans his head on your shoulder with a groan. "I wasn't myself."

You giggle and card your fingers through his hair. "That's how cats make me feel."

Rafayel shoots you a lighthearted glare. "Don't belittle my feelings. You're a lot cuter than a cat, you know."

Sylus didn't buy your story about the hoodie's supposed power at first, claiming you were always irresistible, so what difference could a piece of clothing make?

Now, he doesn't seem too keen on letting you go, if the hand gripping the small of your back is any indicator. His other hand is petting your hair.

You swat his hand away, but there isn't much fire behind it.

It doesn't matter, anyway. He just reaches his hand forward and pets your hair again. His movements look stiff, almost like he's restraining himself somehow.

At the look on your face, he just laughs. "Sorry, kitten, but you're just asking for it. You look..." He trails off.

You try to play off how flustered you are with a smirk. "I know. I'm dangerously cute in this hoodie."

"You're always cute, sweetie. But you're right on one front. This hoodie is dangerous."

You realize something with a start, and it's like a shock to your system. But then you seize the opportunity to try and fluster him right back. "Are you... blushing right now?"

He ignores you, opting instead to pull you in for a hug that nearly squeezes the life out of you.

"Oof—Sylus—too much—strength—"

"You can handle it," he deflects easily.

After struggling for a bit, you manage to push him back, panting. "Hah, look at you. The big, bad leader of Onychinus, done in by a simple hoodie. Tara was right."

The corners of his mouth turn downward, and you think he's going to pull away, but then he shakes his head with a scoff. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and smirks at you.

"I'm starting to think this hoodie's power is going to your head. Maybe you should take it off."

[luminatricky]

Vampire? In Gotham! (part 1)

Summary: Danny's 19, a prince, a halfa, and tired of being these things. So he jumps on the idea of a vacation as soon he's given the hint of a chance. The only caveat is that he's going to go undercover as a vampire in a big city - Gotham - far from his home dimension. He finds it's easier than he thought it would be. He's already mostly there.

Relationships: Dead on Main (Jason Todd/Danny Fenton), John Constantine & Danny Fenton

Um? Inspired by several prompts and other fanfics. Lost Between Our Needs and Wants AU definitely, with a background Danny's summoned by Ra's as Damian as a sacrifice. Nothing bad happens (to Damian) don't worry. Also, the one in which Danny decided to fight ghosts as a human too.

And John is almost definitely ooc, he's a character I enjoy a lot even though I don't have a firm grasp of his canon.

Danny's afterlife has been way too interesting for way too long. It's gotten to the point that when things suddenly go quiet for months, he hardly hesitates to give his "human" life some over-due attention.

For obvious reasons he's not going to try his "vacation" in his own dimension. Anyone he once might have stayed for know how to get a hold of him, whenever and wherever.

The Amity Park portal is still open. But between the stricter laws on ghosts wanting to use permanent portals he managed to get passed, and the increasingly feral ways the townsfolk have begun defending each other with, Danny feels confident to finally...let go. In his heart, he had always thought of it as still his, despite not being there to maintain it in truth. But now it's not his Haunt anymore, fully and completely.

They don't need him anymore.

And Danny doesn't want to be needed like that again, to be honest. He sacrificed so much to play hero because he got it into his head that he had to do everything alone in the end. As if he was the only one who could kick ghost butt on the daily in town.

Thankfully, a nineteen year old Danny is smarter than a fourteen year old Danny. He's learned the art of delegation. Any tasks that he doesn't need to be present for, he has a whole team of ghostly assistants to handle things for him. The major multidimensional crises have for the most part been solved - his protection Obsession at the very least fed. And quite a few skeleton thralls he freed near the beginning of his reign were suddenly looking for direction. Among them, a decent amount found the talent and fulfillment in positions of bureaucratic power that Danny never will, filling up spots he's unwilling to give out like the candy the various ghosts of nobility treat the roles as. Or ghost nobility. Like the Ancients. Quite a few of the Ancients are assholes.

(At least all the murderous Ancients aren't problems anymore)

With all their help, he's able to occasionally pop in to do paperwork, meet with the High Court for various lawmaking and judicial decisions, and listening to official petitions to the Crown from his people. It's all good. No mountains of unseen paperwork, no audience with the Observants every waking moment, no one across the Realms screaming desperately for help. Even some of the cults have finally caught on that he's not Pariah!

So Danny starts the process of finding a new Haunt for his new, normal, alive alter ego. Staying as long as he has in the Realms couldn't have been sustainable long-term if he didn't want to become a full ghost. As complicated as his relationship with his humanity is these days, he still doesn't want to die again. And Frostbite definitely has been pushing him to finding new territory, in the Infinite Realms or otherwise. Because even for full ghosts going Hauntless for long periods is straining. To say the least.

Although, being just a human again...didn't sit right. Even after all this time. His human form is still one Danny Fenton, in his eyes.

He can never be Danny Fenton again. He accepted that his duties as Crown Prince would keep him away from the identity of the ghost hunter's ghost hunting son, who went to Casper high and had terrible grades in everything but science; the kid who was shoved into lockers and who was addicted to Nasty Burger and played DOOMED with his friends and who wanted to be an astronaut. He accepted that he had to leave that all behind, and be full ghost in all but form. His parents wouldn't want him if they knew everything he lied about, anyways. He didn't actually deserve the name Fenton.

His new Haunt would preferably be in a place where he could reasonably pass himself off as another species, then, and still be safe. Safer than being a ghost at least. Most universes had well-deserved folklore against the Realms. His people are not inherently malevolent...But he knows that they don't play nice and careful with the living.

He would need an ectoplasm rich environment, too. A big city with lots of crime would go a long way for providing the ambient death and fear vibes that would attract Blobs like a bee to nectar. It would also make it feel like the Infinite Realms - hopefully. He's gotten accustomed to that kind of environment. He thinks he may never sleep again in a place quiet and safe.

He'd like a place with a rich history too. Just for fun!

Danny mulls it over carefully, narrowing down universes he could reasonably start his search in. The only universe he can think of with extensive protections for the non-human written into law is one far-flung flavor of an Earth he's semi-familiar with. He's been there twice, both at 16, just starting out and stressed to hell and back with the sheer load of unattended problems Pariah left to rot.

Both times he'd been more than he'd have liked. One Ra's Al Ghul wasn't technically his problem. He was no one's problem now, and that was current Danny's whole issue with it.

John Constantine is an unlamented saint for putting up with a feral teenaged Danny's slap dash attempt at helping the both of them - John with his soul related doom, and Danny with his paperwork related misery.

But. Considering how he handled the contract with Al Ghul, Danny can't blame John for hesitating to renegotiate their terms already. Ra's Al Ghul was an idiot who gave him what he thought was the life of his grandson, in exchange for immortality.

Him. The Prince of the Dead. Immortality.

Thankfully, the wording was imprecise. What he actually traded was the kid's really cool sword - the kid kneeling, terrified eyes meeting his before darting away, offering his own sword to let Danny slit his throat and "collect his due sacrifice", Danny not being able to breathe through his own fear - for pure ectoplasm, with instruction to drink it everyday until he ran out.

This of course killed even him months later from over-exposure.

The man probably felt a mile high in the air, indestructible, right up until he crashed. Al Ghul promptly became a ghost. Which. Closest thing to true immortality the Prince of the Dead could offer him. He kept his end of the deal. It's not his fault that Al Ghul never specified that he didn't want to die to be immortal. It's also not his fault that Al Ghul had so many dead enemies and victims on the other side who were easy to find. It was ridiculously easy - they made a support group around being taken down by the LOA. And who was he to deny the dead their due vengeance?

Right. So John is understandably nervous about Danny owning all the pieces of his soul, no matter how much rapport they've built these past three years. Danny is mature enough to admit that it is his fault for that bit.

On the bright side for Danny, that means one grumpy occult detective in a sad trenchcoat is a guy who lives in his phone. Like an uncle-shaped tamagachi!

He scrolls though his contact list until he thumbs John's number. Surprisingly, instead of going to voicemail, he picks up on the first ring.

"Before you ask, yes I'm cashing in a favor, finally. No, it's nothing evil, I've just got the first actual free time I've had in five years and I'd like to get suggestions on a city to move to."

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

John ended up giving a very detailed list in response. Suspiciously detailed, and hardly prompted. How long had John been thinking on this? And why?

Danny chalked it up to the man's reasonable paranoia when it came to him. John's aware he can pretend to be (fully) human with relative ease, afterall. And the older man knows where he'd need to be able to actually live long term. After-live. Whatever. Point is, John probably made it his business to know where any sneaky invasions would start if Danny ever became a little less morally ambiguous and a little more bloodthirsty.

Entirely fair! Pariah wasn't always a tyrant!

On the very top was Gotham, a city in this world's Jersey, and the crime capitol of the States. Plenty of ambient ectoplasm, and planty of charged emotions wafting from every street corner. He doesn't voice this, but Danny figures that there must be a whole community of ghosts already living there because of that double whammy.

Something about the city's name tickles his memory, but can't quite pin it down. If it was important he'd have remembered. Right?

John is thrown when he asks about his options of other non-humans Danny could reasonably get away with impersonating.

"And why," the occultist half-accuses, "would you of all spooks, want to live in Gotham, as a 'vacation', just to not even pretend to be normal?"

"First of all, ow. John you know just because someone is different doesn't mean they're not normal. I thought you were the cool uncle." He responds half-heartedly. Danny bites his bottom lip, rolling it between his sharp teeth as he tries to think of a part two to that answer that wouldn't get uncomfortably personal.

John doesn't rise to his bait. Danny hears him unscrew something metallic, then the sound of fluid swishing quietly from the other end. Ah.

The silence wears on. Danny should hang up. But winging things have always gotten him into bigger trouble. And John is the guy to call for this. Fuck. And he's bad at lying bold-faced.

Fine.

"I'm half human," Danny responds as if that would explain everything. It doesn't, so he manages to continue in a small voice that he doesn't even remember the last time he'd used. "Sometimes I still pretend to be one when I can't see any other way. But I had my chance at playing the part of both. And I royally screwed it up, literally! I became freaking royalty and I just couldn't anymore. As far as anyone but my doctor is concerned, I'm full ghost. I had a chance - I don't deserve another one. Screw ups don't get nice things."

John takes another swig from his flask, mutters something under his breath that sounds vaguely like 'of course he's a fecking halfa'. His voice is rough around the edges from whatever cheap booze he just drank a concerning amount of.

"Listen. Sounds like you've got trauma dripping from your ears, kid. But what's the point here, huh? Sounds like you want to be human without all the fuss of it." John drawls out.

Danny takes a deep breath in through his nose. He tries to fight down the feeling of being peeled open for the world to see - being afraid isn't helpful right now. He needs to be silly, nonchalant, like he's always been with John in tense situations. Why do they only talk when things are tense, anyways?

"Essentially. It's more like. I want to have all the human experiences I missed out on, but without having to hide being inhuman. That kinda thing."

"And you can't just be a ghost?"

"I really don't think anyone likes being ghosted."

"Don't you start on that. You know what I mean, Princeling."

"Fine. No, I can't be a ghost. That's boring and no one likes being haunted."

John gives a long sigh. After a beat, he acquiesces. "Alright. You could pull off vamps damn well. Got the hair for 'em. The teeth and claws are only slightly off. There's several clans with different looks the same way humans have ethnicities. Although, I don't think that's the same, now that I'm thinking about it. But subspecies doesn't fit either."

Danny hums, tilting his head in thought. "Like the difference between a banshee and a specter?"

"Yeah, like that. All vamps, just different enough, and no kind older than another to say they're the 'main' species." John clarifies. Another pause. "Unless you count Halfas. Which. Some people do but shouldn't. Bloody idiots."

Danny startles, nearly dropping his phone. "Excuse me?"

John snorts. "What? You didn't know?"

"Musta missed that part in the complimentary instruction manual they gave me for having my molecules redecorated." He snarks. "What do you mean I'm already a vampire?"

"I said people who don't know what they're talking about count Halfas as the original vampires. You lot have been around since the bloody dawn of time, it seems." John sounds exasperated.

"That's not what I - never have I ever wanted to take a chomp on anyone's pulse point, what the fuck?"

John gets that smug tone in his voice that Danny has a love-hate relationship with. "And exactly how many undead folks do you hang out with when you're feeling peckish?"

"...you can't be serious." Danny says instead of denying him. What can he even say to that? He's never met a Revenant or Ghoul.

"As the grave, I'm afraid."

When Danny doesn't outwardly respond for too many beats, John takes another chug. "Phantom?"

"John." He begins, pinching the bridge of his nose as more and more dots connect too cleanly for him. "You might be wrong."

"...What awful lore about your eldritch homeland is going to send me into my weekly crisis this time?" The detective groans out.

"Alright. So you know how part of my whole thing as the Prince makes it my job to stay aware of ectoplasmic diseases?"

John hums in acknowledgement, so Danny sucks in a deep breath. "Then you should know two things. One, that I've been to a few dimensions with vampires in them. And like you said, they're all different from each other. I didn't really pay much attention beyond helping the people survive these world-ending scenarios though.

Two, is that in each and every one of those realities, the vampirism was caused by a virus made by an Ancient - don't worry, they're gone. The disease itself is called False Halfa Syndrome. It was their attempt to weaponize Halfas back in Pariah's time."

"Oh shite." John says elegantly. "Bag o' shite!"

"Good luck on that crisis. Me too." Danny is hardly holding in hysterical laughter. "I can't believe Sam and Tucker were right about this. Holy shit."

"How in the world didn't you piece this together until now?!"

"I don't know! I just thought it was coincidence!"

"Bloody fucking hell, Phantom. Nevermind. You can play a vampire totally accurately because you are one. A ghost one." John growls. "Cause that just had to be a thing."

Danny carefully doesn't think about how Vlad might have legitimate claim to that vampiric aesthetic he's got going on. Instead, he's planning on stealing an aesthetic change for his own ruse.

"Nice. Should I know anything else while we're here?" He asks.

John gave a wry laugh, crackling over the phone's shitty old speakers. "About Gotham or your new undead existence?"

"Both." He says instantly. "Both is good."

"Gotham has vigilantes. The birds and bats are efficient, and they spook easy at unknowns. Batman's technically my coworker if we're gonna call the Justice League a job - we don't get paid for this. He and his family deal with the craziest lineup of human rogues I've ever had the displeasure. It's made him a healthy amount of paranoid. If you're doing anything nefarious, he'll find you. And then he'll call me."

Danny isn't exactly afraid of John. But Pariah wasn't afraid of Danny, either, so the halfa takes it seriously. Internally.

"Yeah yeah old man. You've got your eye on me and all that. Uh huh." He genuinely appreciates the warning, too, but messing with John is his bread and butter.

"Watch it, brat," John says with no real venom, unlike a moment ago. "Or I'll bring out the stakes."

"I take mine medium rare, thank you."

"Piss off."

"...About the vampirism?"

"Normal ghost bullshite applies. It's about the ecto, I think. You go absolutely nutters for the stuff in undead folk. Something about how ectoplasm interacts with the reanimated. Liminals are nutritious too, but I've been told it's the difference between cafeteria food and gourmet. One smells absolutely heavenly, the other is barely appetizing."

Oh Ancients is that why all his exes are Liminal? No, hold on, was part of the reason Vlad was so weird about him just ghost-vamp on ghost-vamp mutual hanger?

"What, I'm not the only Halfa in your life? John. I thought we had something special."

"Please don't make this weird. Do not flirt with me." John instantly scolds. "I know you're just being your little weird brand of playful, but I knew you when you were a kid shaped menace. C'mon."

Danny blinks. He didn't think he was flirting, but apparently he was. "Alright. Sorry, John."

There's a sudden crash on the other side of the phone. Followed by John's muffled cursing.

"Listen, I have to go. If you're serious about this I'll get you some good fakes. Text me with what you'd like your name to be." And then John hangs up. Danny smiles into the lingering silence.

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

PhantomMenace: Dante Nightingale, pwetty please 0w0

God's Favorite Whore: That's the most main character name I've ever bloody seen.

God's Favorite Whore: You're from a dead family in Illinois, farm boy, meta. Had an accident at 14, with a near death experience for believability. You've also been missing since shortly after it. Anyone looking into you will think that's when you got "turned."

PhantomMenace: thats why your the cool uncle <3

God's Favorite Whore: This should count as another favor, don't you think?

PhantomMenace: Yup. I'll be nice

PhantomMenace: 💚 ~2/20 Favors until Soul Return~ 💚

[luludeluluramblings]

Conner Kent's Obsession with Smalltown!Reader

A/N: I saw a few people liking the Superfam stuff and finally went nuts attempting this Conner bit. I tried. I tried so hard. I added dialogue. I'm used to the YJ Conner, but this is my attempt at Comic Conner. If he's OOC, oops. Yeet. (I attempted to research, I swear.) Might edit this some later.

A/N: I write Reader with an accent. One, cause that's how I talk. Two, cause I like it like 'dat.

A/N: I'm also almost done with Part Seven, but I'm adding dialogue to that too to make the breaking point a tad bit more impactful. I've never really written dialogue before.

Warnings: Slight Yandere themes. Romantic Yandere. (Very subtle.)

Conner’s run-ins with Reader always seemed to piss Tim off. Especially after Tim started researching into Reader. He would occasionally always beg Tim to invite Reader to hang out. And, he would find himself rejected every single time. Before it was probably due to Tim being dramatic. Now, he certain of this, it's because Tim dramatic and jealous overprotective.

On other occasions, he'd just by pass Tim, leaving him to his cases (and creeping) so hecould sneak and bother reader. They’re kinda cute, in his opinion. Of course they call him a big city boy and said he clearly lived off of his daddy’s money. Which was only kind of wrong. But, they way they said it made his a trail of heat crawl down his spine.

After some time had passed, he knew that Tim and the other members of the family were suspicious about him coming to the manor so much. He never tried to hide his reasons There was no point in hiding behind weak excuses. He respected the Bats too much to even think he could fool them. Plus, lying to the Bats was a good way to get stabbed with a kryptonite knife. Even though they had made it pretty clear that they disapproved of him coming around so often, He was still going to keep visiting. Could they really blame him? It wasn’t his fault he was enamored so easily. 

He kept his distance just a bit. Like he was silently (commanded) requested. He could tell he made the newest addition to the family a bit uncomfortable. And, he understood. The clone thing was kinda freaky after all.

Well, at first he had assumed it was because he was a clone. That would make any normal person feel a bit weird. But, then he heard them keep call him that nickname. City boy. The way it rolled off their tongue and how often it was said was clearly a sign. They weren’t bothered by the clone thing. They just didn’t like his personality. He could fix that. That wasn’t that hard. He was adaptable.

So when he approached them again, for the million time, he tried to play up the cool and collected act. Going as far as to emulate the Batman. Which, surprising made the ice break. When they laughed at him.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

"No, seriously why are you acting like that?" You're still giggling at how hard he was trying to play up the serious act. Cause that's all it was. You don't doubt he could genuinely be serious for a moment, but this wasn't one of those moments.

"I'm just letting you see a different side of me, is all." Conner replies, trying to keep it up even though he had been quickly caught.

"You mean the imaginary side, city boy? I didn't realize you liked to play pretend." Another teasing snort. God, how you needed that laugh.

"I'm not pretending."

"Yeah, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah."

"No."

"Yes, you are. Don't be lyin' to me now. Or, Imma start gettin' upset."

"Okay, okay... How could you tell?" He conceded after a moment. The way he scratched the back of his head suited him much more than that little Oscar performance he was putting on a few seconds prior.

"I'm observant." Comes the mock arrogant reply. It was hard to give him a cold shoulder when he just made you laugh so genuinely in the last few weeks.

"Oh, look who's playing pretend now." The snark on his tongue doesn't have any heat, but it does bring you some relief. A bit of much needed normalcy.

Maybe it's the fact that the loneliness has slowly crawled into your chest and burrowed it's self deep in that hollow part of you, but it's easy to let your guard down around him for once. You had noticed his efforts to get to know you before, and maybe you let those preconceived notions cloud your little head. But, there was no need for them anymore. The twinge of glee he sparked was enough to burn them away and make you pause before you would rebuild those walls of yours.

"Are you saying I'm not observant?"

"Yep."

"The audacity!" The outrage nothing more than a sham. A simple way to fill the air between them. Cause even if the talk was small, just the hint of it filled something in you. That didn't make your curiosity fade, however. "But, seriously, why are you impersonating Bruce? And in his own house, no less."

The brief silence that washes over you both has you already regretting this. Had it really so long since you've had a proper conversation that you were this out of practice?

When he finally speaks again, it is gives you relief and more regret.

"I just wanted to finally get your attention."

Well, doesn't that make you finally fit in with the rest of your family?

Your tongue brushes over your teeth in an attempt to get the lead coating that made your words weigh heavy in your mouth off of it.

"I'm sorry, Conner. I- I've been smallminded haven’t I?"

"No, I get it. The whole clone thing is freaky." He starts, a light flush on his cheeks. He wasn't expecting an apology, and especially one so soon and so heartfelt.

"Oh, yeah, that... Really it didn't have anything to do with it. I kinda just thought you were a typical concrete jungle flirt. Momma warned me about men like you." You try to hide your sheepishness by adding humor to your voice, praying he catches your sincerity under all the different layers.

He catches something, judging by the beaming smile Conner gives you.

"Really? I had hoped it wasn't, ya know, that."

"Nah, nah. It wasn't. Still, I am sorry." You assume silence is about to befall the pair of you again, but he doesn't let it happen.

"My family owns a farm out in Kansas, you know?" The cheeky grin on his face screams that he's going to be getting his revenge in the form of mild bullying.

"No!" The resounding smack of your palm hitting your forehead nearly echoes in the halls. "I feel even worse now."

"So much for being observant, little detective."

"I never claimed to be no detective. But, I might be more... oblivious then I initially implied..."

Now, it's Conner's turn to guffaw at you.

"The audacity."

"Don't you throw my words back at my. I can't handle it." You can't help by click your tongue. There's hardly any annoyance from your words. "I really misjudged you."

"It's fine! I figured you might still be adjusting to Gotham and the whole Wayne lifestyle. Tim mentioned you're from a pretty small town when I started bugging him about you." He's clearly playing up the charm, but you let it work on you.

"More like I'm still suffering from culture shock." Slowly, you can feel this conversation starting to shift to something deeper than surface level. Things that haven't been allowed into the open air start to ripple underneath.

And, he takes that chance to draw it out.

"Still?" Empathy mixing into his tone. Those icy blue eyes looking incredibly warm. You'd never really taken the time to look at him. Sure, you knew he was attractive. Hell, everyone that seemed to show up at the manor was attractive. But, now you were finally looking at him. Too focused were you in taking in his appearance for the first time, that you completely missed the way those eyes shined with opportunity and desperate want.

"Yeah, still. It's... different."

"Different as in the food's a little weird or different as in the people are a little weird?"

"It's all a little weird, and it's... kinda... lonely?" You can't help the wince. You really don't wanna trauma dump on someone who you had initially misjudged. He didn't deserve that.

But, as he moves closer you can't help it. That desolate part of you longing for comfort when you haven't had it in such a long time and the way he's giving you all this undivided attention when you can barely catch Alfred in the halls these days fills that acute craving in your gut.

"Lonely?" God, the concern in his voice doesn't make you want to cry, but it does make you want to choke

"I... I think it's not here that's different. I think it's me that's too different." The way he sucks a breath in after the words leave your mouth makes you want to backtrack immediately. "I'm so sorry. God damn, am I mess right now."

"No. No. No. You are fine." The reassuring words oddly sound more like a purr, but they capture your attention all the same. "I get it. I really really do."

Why does he have to give you such a disarming smile. He's practically beaming at you now. There's a festering tension blooming around them like spores.

"You are really not helping me fell less like a jerk to you now." The click of your tongue attempting to defuse the budding blooms.

"Hey, if you're feeling guilt... you could, maybe... let me take you out for dinner sometime? Just to make it up to me."

After a stunned moment of thought, you finally find the words to reply.

" Honestly, I'd-"

"CONNER!" Tim's sudden interruption sends the words crawling back down your throat.

"Tim." He calls back in a cool greeting, but he strangely doesn't step back from you. Which is nice. You haven't had anyone close to you other than Dick and a few of your remaining friends at Gotham Academy. And Damian, Cassandra, and Duke get a bit huffy, or in Damian's case murdery, when they are within an arms reach of you.

"Sorry, am I interrupting anything? Conner and I had plans for the day." Tim's pleasant voice sends a wave of unease over you. He's not staring at you when he speaks. Just Conner. It's annoying how he's ignoring you despite you being right. In. Front. Of. Him.

But, then he does finally look at you and his dark grey eyes soften ever so slightly. You're not too mad. Clearly he's exhausted, judging by the bruises under his eyes. There's still a slight reflection in them as he's gaze meets yours, despite how dry the appear. Probably from looking at a computer too much.

"You really shouldn't bother with this guy. He's not worth it." The words are clearly meant to be joking. Casual banter between two close friends. But, you can't help thinking they come off a bit strong.

Conner seems to bristle at them, but he does brush them off.

"That's right, we are hanging out today. Can you blame me for getting distracted, though?" That cocky smirk of his is back, and he actually touches your shoulder. It makes you feels warm, but like a prize at the same time.

All Tim seems to do in response is twitch, but giving nothing away. His grey eyes going steely as they drift to Conner's hand.

When the moment finally passes, Conner lets his hand fall. You can feel it grazing down your back as he pulls away. Slow, like he's trying to strike a match and light something inside you.

"I'll see you later, sweetheart. Just think about my offer and get back to me on it!" Conner calls out as Tim storms behind him. Both heading in the direction of the library.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

As soon as their in the Batcave, Conner can tell he probably pushed it too far. Not that he has any regrets. He finally got somewhere and confirmed all of his previous theories about Reader. They were so adorable apologizing to him, and so deliciously sweet about it too.

He should've realized Tim was watching them, though. Dude was a creep. He maybe his best friend, but he's still a damn creep.

As expected, the rest of the family is also giving him the patented Bat-glare when he sees them. But, as he stated, he has no regrets. He's not stupid enough to stick around, though. He saw Jason loading a suspicious looking green bullet into the chamber of his gun. And, while he knows Tim wouldn't kill him, he's not so sure about the rest of them.

He's confirmed what he's wanted, what he's already suspected. They're absolutely perfect for him and ripe and raw.

[schoenpepper]

Despite Everything (It's Still You)

Intro: When he looks at you, he sees everything he could have been.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, kinda angsty, more platonic im pretty sure cus its not specified if ur lovers, might be ooc idk and idc, everytime i write idia i feel 10 years older because i cringe at my own internet slang

A/N: Done! Last request is finished, hope you like it worm anon. On my end, this is super rushed and it's not like, my fave ever so ehhhh.

Masterlist

Riddle thought he’d found a comrade in you. Out of everyone in Twisted Wonderland, he’d thought you would be the one to understand him.

He sees it in your posture, always straight and never slouching. You’re good with academics, a diligent student. Like Riddle, you’d gone through life with the iron fist of a well-meaning parent, so surely, you understand him, right? You agree with him. You believe that rules are important to be upheld lest society fall into chaos. It’s such a refreshing feeling to find a person who, like him, thinks that structure and stability are core values of a proper community.

But you don’t. You don’t understand. No one does. His consciousness is flickering between ink and reality. He’s slipping into the grasp of the phantom and he feels himself slowly being consumed. He’s being devoured. Right before the overblot, even you had stood against him. Why? Riddle wasn’t wrong, he was never wrong—the rules aren’t wrong. Because if they are, then what did he lose his entire childhood for? So you must be the one at fault. This is your mistake. You just don’t understand. You tell him that the rules and the competence and the structure matter less than people. You try to convince him that there’s a better way of living. Is there?

Riddle doesn’t know why. He’d thought you were a comrade because he saw his own experiences in yours, but he’d never been so wrong. While he was still caught up in the chains of his mother’s words, you’d already broken free from the cage. You help him to reclaim the shards of childish wonder he’d never been allowed to have. You help him learn how to breathe, how to relax. Little by little, you bring him onto your path.

He doesn’t understand you anymore.

Leona doesn’t have any opinions about you. You never really talked to him at first, and he can respect that; you don’t go out of your way for bothersome, meaningless things.

Every time he sees you, you’re sleeping or slacking off. Whatever, it’s not like he can judge you for it. You also have a real competitive streak for spelldrive, and your wit’s not half bad, especially when compared to the muscle heads in his dorm. Clever and snarky, talented and strong. He can respect you. Maybe just barely, and he’ll never admit it, but he sees a part of himself in you. So, a sort-of equal. He’s still better than you though.

The taste of sand lingers on his tongue as it swirls in the air through the storm. There’s a part of himself he can no longer control. It makes him wrap his fingers around Ruggie’s throat and Leona… He doesn’t want this. But he can’t stop. He can still recognize you on the edge of his vision. Weren’t you just like him? At birth, everything good was handed right over to your older sibling, leaving nothing but scraps for you. You found it unfair too, didn’t you? So why are you standing against him? This is his chance to be someone worth more than his birthright. Why…are you not agreeing with him?

Leona tried to stay away from you. But call it his instinct or whatever; he can’t seem to avoid you at all. The second prince of Sunset Savanna is awestruck by your words. You tell him that birth doesn’t determine everything. You tell him that you’d learned from your own past. That you can still make something of yourself without that which was given. You sure are chatty now, but who is he to stop you?

You’re not his equal. You’d long since left him in the dust.

Azul sees you as an opportunity. He likes you, really, because you know how to do business and you find a way to compromise that doesn’t step on either person’s lines.

It’s not difficult for him to find out about your past, and to be honest, he’s greatly delighted to find out about all that you have in common. Did you feel the way he did when he was isolated and bullied? Did you feel his pain? You were an outcast too, weren’t you? But wow, look at you (and him) now! It’s rare he sees someone as diligent as himself, as cunning and as smart. Resourceful and oh so benevolent, you’d fit right into Octavinelle!

He’d steered himself long ago; he would never be weak again. He had long, long since forgotten humiliation and defeat. But he’s here again. This time, defeat was brought by your hands. Azul had thought you were allies. Business partners, at least. Why betray him like this? Don’t you get it? He’s powerful now! Why try to stop him? Why did you succeed? He’s left in the aftermath of heartache and debris. He doesn’t know why he did the things he did, but he’s sure that he was so close to being all-powerful. Perfect. A being so beautiful and flawless and strong… You took that chance away from him.

Azul wants you out of his life—your presence now is only a reminder of everything he could have been, and everything he failed to be. Unlike him, you’ve already moved on. You’ve learned to forgive your tormentors, and most importantly, you’ve learned to forgive yourself. You tell him that it was never his fault, but that revenge was never meant to be the answer.

He finds that he had nothing in common with you, after all.

Jamil is perceptive. Next to the one who’s attracting the attention of the whole room with a bright smile and sunny disposition, he finds a kindred spirit in you.

You seem responsible enough, and like a mirror, he sees you taking care of that person the way he does with Kalim. It’s easy to pierce through your act because he knows how to do it too. Seemingly not too smart, not too dumb, not too strong, not too weak. You’re good at pretending to be average. Like Jamil, you’ve lived a life of servitude. Are you tired of forced humility? Of feeling like your life isn’t worth anything when compared to the one you serve?

He’s tired too. He’s so, so tired. Why was freedom unreachable to Jamil right from the moment he was conceived? Was he unworthy of a life unbound by shackles? You’re looking at him like he’s a stranger. Jamil looks at you like you’re a mirror. A mirror that’s shattered, and damaged, and every piece is covered with ink and regret. You know what he’s been through, so why are you in his way? You should be an accomplice. Do you not yearn to be your own person? The phantom is whispering promises he knows it won’t keep. But nothing is more tempting than just…one day of happiness. Of his own happiness.

Jamil is inevitably drawn to you. You live so brightly; you see your master as a friend. You tell him he doesn’t need to do the same. That the only thing he needs to do is find a way that works for him. And you’re asking about things he hadn’t thought of before. An employment contract? The legal status of slavery in the Scalding Sands? Wait, you’re serving that person out of your own volition in exchange for salary and other related benefits?

In you, he sees a light at the end of the tunnel.

Vil approves of you. Like looking in a mirror almost, he sees beauty and a passionate drive to remain beautiful in every single way.

You’re a person with a consistent goal and a persistent drive to do better and be better; a hard worker with tenacity like that of the Queen herself. You are no potato. You are a diamond that has found a way to shine uniquely, and like him, you are already a master at your chosen profession. And yet, he sees the trophies and the medals are all silver and never gold. It is frustrating, but Vil knows that you as well know what it’s like to always be second best.

He’d worked so hard. He’d tried his very best. Professional music and choreography, styling and costumes. He’d set up a multi-week boot camp for his team members in order to whip them into shape. It’s all swept away by that person. Again. And again. And again and again and again and— No. No more. He will take matters into his own hands. But you stand in front of him with a familiar determination, only this time, you’re determined to stop him. Rook had betrayed him and now, you do too. Is he not worthy of a victory? Not even once? The blot is so, so ugly. But if it means he’ll get to wipe out everything that’s opposed to him, he’ll take that blot and use it to his own advantage. Like the queen who’d disguised herself as an ugly witch in order to take down the princess; everything can be sacrificed for the sake of ultimate beauty. If you’re not with him, you must be against him.

Vil apologizes sincerely for his faults. He knows he was wrong, even if it hurts his pride to admit it. But you accept him so easily, so readily, he can’t believe you’re acting like he’d never even hurt you. You forgive him. You help him accept his losses and continue to strive. Because you’d been in his position before, but you’d grown to be happy and appreciate the wins in life instead.

You are no mirror image of him. You are better.

Idia’s never been this happy before; through his screen is someone who just gets him. You’re good at games, and an introvert too? Score!

It’s not like, ever, that someone who vibes with his genius just comes strolling through his life, so Magicord bears witness to long, late night chats about anything and everything. You’ve got some real fucked up childhood trauma too, big mood tbh. It’s easy to spill his guts out over the internet, because even then, you still don’t really know him. You like the games and animes that he likes, and he’s so glad that for once, there’s a person out there who’s lived through the same villain-arc that he has.

He can’t rebuild the world if so many noobs are trying to stop him. Why? What’s so wrong with wishing for a world that can fit him and Ortho right in? Why is that too much for him to ask for? Why are you, the person he thought was his cool moots, acting up too? Don’t you like Ortho? Bro…no…you’re not actually doing a protagonist monologue rn, are you? Seriously? You think you can defeat him and his phantom through the power of friendship? Lolz, you’re so lame. If the world was a fairytale, he wouldn’t have been born with this dumb curse. If the world was a fairytale, he would never have been trapped in STYX with no way out. If the world was a fairytale, Ortho would still be alive. But it’s not. So he’ll remake it to be the story he’d always dreamt it to be.

Idia thinks you’re 110% cringe, like actually barf-inducing. But you did kinda save him or whatevs, so he can put up with you. Like, begrudgingly yk. You’re just such a weirdo. He really thought you were just like him, but no. You’ve had therapy. That’s like, actually wild. You try to counsel him too, talking about feelings and whatnot, and how to move past grief so that it no longer consumes you from the inside out.

So it turns out you didn’t have a villain arc like Idia did. You’re the main hero.

Malleus finds you absolutely delightful. To see another who can speak to him without fear or nervousness is a marvelous thing that he cherishes.

You are no fae or long-lived species, but he finds you fascinating. You are intelligent and wise beyond your years. You are powerful in your own right. You are familiar, in every sense of the word. Even your experiences seem to be shared. You’d been orphaned too, and experienced loss and grieved. You’d mourned for far too many loved ones who have left before you. Do you see the present as he does? Do you embrace the past as he does?

The world is a sad, sad place. He would like to change it. Into one with happy ever afters, into one where there is no hunger and no poverty. There will be no suffering. In his hands, he will mold the world into one that is kinder to its people. There will be no death and separation. He’s had far too many of those, enough to last his long lifetime. He’s not wrong. So why…why do you stand against him, weapon pointed towards him? The only thing he wishes for is permanence. Do you not see the vision? There is so much sadness in the world, why do you choose to wake from your beautiful slumber and face it head on? No matter. He will help you, even if you deny him.

Malleus is more than happy to take your hand when it is outstretched towards himself. You teach him so many things he hadn’t realized before, like how to cherish the present and treasure each memory more than attempting to find a solution to make them everlasting. He had believed wholly that he was right; that the answer to death was a long period of dreams in which everyone lives in a happy ending. He had believed you to be similar to himself—he is wrong about many, many things.

You’ve always looked to a brighter future than he could even imagine.

[azullumi]

Sorry but your thoughts on designer! Reader X Aventurine?

Like, I want to dress this peacock into so much staff, from tailored expensive suits with unbelievably beautiful patterns to the fucking dresses. (Rine in dress Rine in dress *trembles chews on chair*.)

Or maybe make him a living mannequin when he has free time? Like look at this man, the perfect waist. (new art new art omg)

It's like, so unrelated to IPC that maybe Aventurine would even find peace in having a Reader from a simple world (yeah simple fashion world of course yeah...)

Anyways, if it's boring or silly, you can just delete it!! It's okay, place your needs and desires first!

Cheese for you. 🧀

"the way you look tonight" ; aventurine

summary — you just get along with him so well and he just adores you so much.

pairing — aventurine (w/ fashion designer! reader)

tags — established relationship, fluff, not proofread, 1k words ; headcanons

note — i hope u like this nonnieee!! and thank you for the cheese 🧀 hopefully, he wasn't ooc in this one omgosh also this reminded me of the costume i have to make and i haven't started yet hahahaha?? this is day 3 of writing for this man until i have him.

Aventurine likes to adorn himself in expensive jewelry and clothing, to dress himself with extravagant accessories and jewelries (Have you seen the rings on his hands? His watch? The bracelets on his wrists?); that was a well-known fact. So when he met you for the first time as he visited a certain planet whose main trading point was fabric, textiles, clothing, and everything related to fashion, the relationship that will soon blossom will be inevitable. You just get along with him so well and he just adores you so much—it was like a match-made in the universe.

From then on, whenever he has the time to do so, he’ll arrange visits to your planet. It could be surprise visits or ones planned between you two (it’s mostly just him messaging you that he misses you so he’s planning on stopping by soon). Nevertheless, you love seeing him, love the way he always greets you with a hug and a kiss when he sees you. He’ll always bring you presents every time he comes by. Souvenirs from another planet, trinkets and charms that he thinks you would like, and occasionally, patterns, fabrics, clothes, and such.

Aventurine doesn’t mind you using him as your model—he was your muse, after all. He doesn’t mind having to stand still as you take his measurements or see which color suits him better by repeatedly alternating two different fabrics against his skin (it’s like a free color analysis). All the while, he’s entertained by just you talking to yourself and seemingly troubled.

“Hm, I think this one looks good, don’t you think?” You say as you fall into deep thought, holding the fabrics in your hand. You stand in front of the blond-haired man who just watches you the whole time with a relaxed look on his face—his soft gaze follows your every movement and a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “No, wait, but this one looks nice too. Why is it so hard to decide?”

You fall into silence, into deep thought, and Aventurine simply waits for your next move. He’s like a living mannequin but he doesn’t complain, afraid that he’ll break your focus if he speaks at this moment.

“What do you think?” Finally, you looked at him. He doesn’t answer immediately, but instead, he smiles and tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“Have you eaten already?” He’ll ask, caressing the of your cheek so sweetly, so gently. A lull of a touch and you can’t help but to lean against his hand to seek more of his kindness. You’ll answer him with a hesitant tone, “I wasn’t asking that though…” He could immediately tell the answer with just the tone of your voice and the way you avert your gaze away from him.

“How about we go out and eat first? I have a reservation for the both of us at the restaurant down the street. They serve your favorites.”

He just likes watching you as you work; eyebrows scrunched, eyes focused, and gaze unwavering as you concentrate on what you’re doing. Occasionally, he’ll watch over your shoulder as you sketch a new design. If you have long hair, he’ll tie it back for you so that you won’t be bothered by your strands obstructing your sight. Sometimes, he’ll massage your shoulders as he kisses the crown of your head. However, when it’s already late at night, he’ll ask you to go to bed with him already while peppering your face with kisses until you’ll let go of your pencil and give in to his words.

Aw, you can’t afford to buy the fabric? You don’t have enough money to buy the pattern that you like? Everything is too expensive? Fortunately for you, this man is willing to spend millions—or even trillions—of credits just to get you what you want and need. You just have to ask and he’ll provide without hesitation. You’re worried about how you’ll repay him? Just a kiss will do.  A fair and perfect price for it all, right?

While Aventurine brings you to casinos with him, you also bring him to watch fashion shows with you—majority of the whole show, however, he would just be watching you and adoring the way your eyes sparkle and your expression brightens. You’ll ask him how the show was and which one he likes best and he doesn’t know how to answer your question, only thinking of how you looked so lovely at the moment.

PHOTOS OF HIS OUTFITS OF THE DAY!! He’ll randomly send you pictures of him standing in front of a mirror in just a simple pose as he shows you what he’s wearing to work. He likes it whenever you compliment him—tell him he looks good, that he looks amazing in the suit you’ve made, that he looks so handsome and you wish to kiss him. (i’m an avid believer of aventurine having words of affirmation as one of his love languages)

It’s undeniable that he looks good in everything that he wears, much more if it's made by your hands. He wears the clothes you tailored for him or the outfits you have planned for him, seemingly showing them off in a rather subtle yet loud way. He’ll occasionally adjust the cuffs of his wrist, fix his tie even though it’s not even messy, or anything that would grab the attention of the person he’s talking to so that they’ll bring it up in a conversation; “Stop adjusting your coat, Aventurine. I know (Name) designed it for you.” A certain silver-haired girl would say and the man adorned with your work would only answer with: “Aren’t they so talented?”

MATCHING CLOTHING (hello?! i know i already mentioned the matching things in my previous work BUT MATCHING CLOTHING WITH HIM!!), especially ones that you’ve designed and tailored for the both of you. Whenever the both of you are going out for a date, he’ll ask what color you’re going for today or what you’re wearing so that he can match you. Be surprised or not, but the bouquet of flowers he bought for you would also match the palette of your clothes.

The first time you proposed the idea of him wearing a dress, he was baffled and somewhat confused. One minute, you were talking about the design of a suit and asking for his opinion on the matter and the next, you’re asking him what he thinks of dresses. Before he knew it, he was with you, choosing among the many collections of dresses that you have garnered in either your closet or boutique. How could he say ‘no’ to you, eyes wide with expectation and gleaming like the surface of a jewel, how could he ever say ‘no’?

Everything was just so simple with you—a form of escape, a way of running away from the thoughts that binds him. Every moment that he spends with you eases him of the worries, of the stress, of the chains that holds him as if he was a flightless bird born in a cage (you were simply his solace). In your presence, he’ll find tranquility inked into the softness of your skin and he’ll murmur his wishes along the lines of your soul; he wishes everything was this warm and easy.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works

[rxzennia]

domestic headcanons

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 ambiguous relationship (oh my god they were roommates); living together; word vomit; incoherent scenarios; ooc aven probably. i offered my exp mats to gepard instead and now i have to grind traces all over again, maybe i should build clara while i’m at it (losing this particular 50/50 has driven me insane istg)

after aventurine’s endless pestering, you finally agree to move in with him. he’s got a whole block all to himself, so what’s you temporarily claiming a room going to change?

the moment you agree, and by that i mean the very second you agree, he’s going to arrange for people to move your stuff

you just need to move yourself over

he’s not going to let you do any hard labor, that’s what the grunts are for

it’s so quick? like, it only took the morning to have everything packed, moved, and unpacked

when you get to your desk the first thing you do is clutter it up

but there’s so much space? 

you just can’t stack your stuff enough so that it’s snug the way you like 

you try, but all you’ve managed to do is make a paper fortress on one side of your desk

why do the senior managers have so much space?

but you soon realize you didn’t really need to finish building your wall of documents

because your boss sits on your desk whenever he fancies annoying you

so there’s your clutter for the other side

though you still leave a few of your spare scarves there just so it’s not completely empty

a little out of place, but you have nothing else bulky enough

it’s okay, that corner of your desk is often occupied by a certain someone anyway

surprisingly, living with aventurine isn’t unpleasant at all. maybe it’s because you’re almost always within reach now, he’s started bothering you less – instead, he’ll do his work in your office. he has a perfectly good office of his own (arguably comfier too), but he insists on sitting next to you.

frankly, you are tempted to kick him out, but this is his place. you shouldn’t try to kick out your host landlord. and it’s not like he’s actively preventing you from concentrating. you usually leave him be, but you might’ve accidentally gotten used to it – when he’s not around, you feel like something’s missing. just a little bit, though.

he can and will always poke his head over to see what you’re working on

“arranging your meetings, go away.” you push his face back towards his laptop

“hey, leave 6pm to 8pm free!” he whines, as always, he’s trying to get a dinner date(?) with you

“no can do, you’re having dinner with mr diamond.”

he will throw a hissy fit

“why must it always be meal times? i want to eat with you!”

will complain and complain and complain even if you ignore him

you give him a flat “i will be present as well.” 

you’re so bloody infuriating

he stares at you for a whole minute. and then he closes his laptop

you look at him. what is he trying to do now?

“not what i meant.” he gently whacks you over the head with the device, “you and i. dinner. alone. get it?”

normally you stand your ground and make him go through with these meetings

but sometimes you cave and indulge him

this is one of those times

“fine, i’ll push back your meeting with the media department tomorrow.”

you see literal flowers around him as he gets his way

well, not exactly his way, because if he had his way he would be free today

a compromise for tomorrow is good enough, he supposes

he will bring you out to lunch and dinner every day if he could

if only you’d stop telling him you technically don’t need to eat and just go along with it

and if only you’d stop scheduling every. single. important. meeting. during. meal. times.

still, he finds it amusing to read your face whenever you’re in those meetings with him

the only good thing about them, really

because you will have the tiniest furrow in your eyebrows when you eat something you don’t like

and it’ll last until the taste goes away (which is usually the entire meeting)

or you’ll have the most serene expression ever (though it’s more neutral than anything, really) when you find something you like

loves it when you try to not make it obvious that you like a particular dish because you’re not discreet at all

that is all you will eat for the rest of the meeting

you are given your own room, but more often than not you find yourself in aventurine’s room at night.

mostly because he drags you away from your desk – no, scrap that, it’s only because he drags you away from your desk. otherwise you would’ve kept working. or maybe gone and did some combat training. or anything but sleep, really.

you soon realize he likes cuddling you when he sleeps

this is something you’ll never deny him if he asks

in fact, he doesn’t even need to ask nowadays

you show up in his room everyday at around the same time

if he wants a nap in the middle of the day, you’ll also be there

you notice how much more quality rest he gets when you’re by his side

and how much less nightmares bothered him compared to before

(maybe you should try casual sleeping, too?)

whenever you try to slip out of his death grip to get some documents, or to use the bathroom, or for water, he will quietly ask you where you’re going

in a very, very slurred, sleepy way

you will try to explain, and all he’ll tell you as you wrench yourself out of his arms is a quiet “stay”

how are you supposed to go if he says that while letting you go?

good luck if you’re hoping to use the bathroom, most likely you’ll have to hold it in

otherwise, if you need anything else, your scarf-serpent can get it for you

although one time it returned with your documents in its mouth and drool all over it

then you had a rigorous session trying to teach them how to coil around things to pick them up

more like you had to learn, since they’re somewhat sentient extensions of you

on the off chance that you’ll be out for the night, you’ll leave your favorite scarf with him

it’s not as comforting as your person, but it does smell like you and feel like you

he’ll take it as a placeholder until you’re back :(

aventurine hates it when you’re out of office. whether it is to represent him, or to discuss matters with clients before you pass it onto him, he hates it when he’s alone at home.

odd, because he was so used to being on his own, and he was so certain he was going to be alone for the rest of his life.

this man will sit in your office regardless of your presence

your spare scarves keep him company

imagine his surprise when a bunch of faceless noodles slither onto him

he makes the connection very quickly

did not expect that every one of your scarves are mini leviathans

he thought there was only a few, and they move between scarves

a welcome surprise because he knows these huge little guys are friendly

those are the same guys that swallow monsters, so they’re actually not very friendly

but they’re friendly to him because they’re you

one of them will coil into a pile on his lap and rest its head on his thigh

and the others will be all around him

will slobber over him 100%

he will try to pet them, and will realize that they’re really affectionate with him

they will try to eat his hands

but, like, in a not alarming way

hold his hand in their maws but will not bite. only drool

when he pats the one who has his hand, it’ll let go

literally “that’s a weird looking dog” but there's more than ten of them

when you return from your errands, the first thing you see is aventurine dragging a bunch of your snakes along with him as he practically runs to greet you.

you wrap your arms around him as he jumps towards you, and you give him a few spins before setting him down again. 

then you lower your scarf

you’re comfortable enough with him to not cover yourself up anymore

oh how he loves seeing your face, aeons, you have no idea

“guys.” you snap your fingers, and the creatures collapse back into inanimate fabric

you catch all of them, of course, then you open one arm for your boss

the best part (real) 

he snuggles up against your side naturally

you lift him up easily even though both your hands are busy

he’s practically sitting on your forearm as you walk around the house

princess treatment

you’ll cuddle with him properly once you drop off your stuff

“ten minutes,” you tell him, “then i’ll have to get back to work.”

he will throw another hissy fit, like, “why are you busier than i am? i’m the boss!”

you pinch his nose and go: “exactly, mr aventurine” 

instantly droops like a kicked puppy

he doesn’t even try to hide it

absolutely hates it when you’re formal with him in private even if you’re joking

feels like you’re back to square one all over again

“don’t call me that,” aventurine groans as he grabs your hair and tug at it like a toddler.

you glance at him. “displeased?” 

“of course!” he tries to shake your head violently, but damn you and your stupid strength. “what happened to aven?”

you don’t respond 

you’re busy tossing everything onto your chair and praying nothing falls off

he moves on to slapping your face lightly

“hey, hey!” as his hands smack and grab everything that’s touchable on your head

surprisingly, you let him

he might also pull on your scarf

and after a while, he’ll resort to rubbing his cheek against yours

“are you ignoring me…?”

you sit down on the couch and set aventurine in your lap. “impatient, are we?”

“can’t help it,” he doesn’t hesitate to bury himself into your embrace. “i hate when i’m alone…”

“aven…” you pat his back, knowing full well you’re falling for his tricks again. “there, there. should i just call it a day?”

“you would?” he asks, like a child receiving a gift for the first time, “really?”

“really.” you sigh as he tugs you down into spooning him, and you watch him tangle his limbs with yours.

eventually, you pull him closer to you. jeez, there’s just no way you can win against him, is there?

[mustangbby]

ESPRESSO - aventurine x reader

- "now he's thinkin' bout me, everynight, oh, is it that sweet? i guess so." or, how does aventurine do when he's in love?

- GUYS GUYS QUEEN SABRINA DROPPED A SINGLE i've been listening to this for days and i needed to write about it sooooooooooo yeah! anyways i'll get to writing probably a few requests tomorrow and wednesday (expect 4-5 posts between those days to make up for my absence) and yeahhhhhh enjoy!!

- aventurine might be a little ooc, mentions of his trauma (so penacony main quest spoilers), reader confesses at the end. wc 1067

Aventurine doesn’t know what to do when he first figures out that the feeling in his chest whenever he saw you was because he liked you. He probably tried to deny it, until Topaz caught him blushing like crazy after you walked away from the conversation you two had just finished. (Even then, she had to tell him, and then he spent a long time thinking that possibility through. She might have been right). 

You plague his visions. Why does he always want something to do with you? Why does he always want to be in your space, but also never wants to see you again? You’ve noticed his weird behavior, considering you were one of the first people he’s ever genuinely called a friend, but didn’t really think too far into it. 

Though, it didn’t stop you from paying more attention to it, that's for a fact. Sometimes you’d pay more attention to his body movements around you, the way he speaks, his etiquette, etc. You and Topaz communicate through it, and it’s a little bit different from his conversations with her. 

You know he can be cocky. Like, very cocky. You know he’s not too afraid to talk back, to challenge someone to a gamble (spoiler he wins), and to be reckless. Though, you also know about his backstory. So you can kind of understand where he’s coming from. 

He’s been pretty open with you about all of the things he’s endured. You know his real name, he’s described how his family has looked, and he’s described his years he endured slavery and what his home planet was like. You know about the Men in Black and the Katicans. And you know how traumatized he is.

Now, you’ve known him for a long, long time before this. You welcomed him into the IPC when Jade first announced his arrival, and you kind of showed him the ropes. He thought you seemed kind, so he stayed in contact with you.

You’ve watched him change, all of his progress through life, the hard times and the good times, and so much more. And that's what gets him the most, he thinks. 

He never realized how much he trusted you until he realized he liked you. You know every single thing about this man, which was the reason why he was rather… nervous when he’d have to communicate with you face to face. He did a good job at keeping up his front he uses to talk to people, but you sensed a slight form of stress underneath all the layers he put up to look tough. 

He lays awake, thinking about you. You’ve made part of his mind your home, and it’s the part he comes back to over and over again. You replay in his mind like a good song that he can’t get enough of- on, and on, and on, and on. 

He does like to bring you little trinkets he finds pretty when he goes out in public to do some shopping. Considering how wealthy he is, he could probably afford to buy out the whole store, so if you even mention something you like to him, he’s on his way to find it for you. He likes to think of it as he’s buying your kindness, but you think something completely different. You enjoy his sudden gift giving, not just because of your gain, but because he thought about you enough to do such a thing. It always makes you slightly blush before laughing while opening the box presented in front of you. He thinks that's the most precious part about your time spent together; all of the opportunities he gets to listen to your gorgeous laughter and see your flawless smile. Topaz, pinch the man, he’s in his own personal dreampool.

Oh, how bad he wants to confess to you, but he’s really afraid of rejection. He fears losing you entirely, fears that you won’t look at him like you always do if he asked if you two could be a thing. He fears you’d think he was odd for wanting you to himself, and that you’d slowly back away until you refuse to even look at his broken, battered form any longer. The thought makes a shiver crawl up his back. He can’t lose you too. 

All this man asks is to find a way to remove you from his head. You’re absolutely tormenting him! Notice how he’s been lacking on his work lately, always caught in a daze when he’s sitting down at his desk? That’s you he’s daydreaming about. He’s no good with his emotions. He knows how to hide sadness, fear, and anger, but he’s never been in this boat before. Love is a whole new concept to him. 

“Aventurine, you’ve been out of it lately. Tell me, is something the matter?” You barge through the blonde's office, not even bothering to knock. You know you don’t have to, he’s never doing anything so significant in that tiny space that it needs to be kept private.

“What are you saying? Nothings up with me,” he drops his pen in the small plaster pen cup you bought for him. “Work has been tiring lately. Nothing to stress over.” 

You plop into the chair in front of his desk, resting your arms on the top and putting your head in between your palms.

“I can tell when you lie. Tell the truth.”

He looks away. What was he supposed to say? That he couldn’t get you out of his brain, and that you’re the only thing he can focus on? That’ll scare you off for sure!

“Aventurine?? You there?” you wave a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his daze once more. “You know, you don’t have to lie. I already know what you’re thinking.”

His eyes slightly widen, just enough for you to notice. You giggle very lightly before continuing on with your sentence. “You have a little crush, don’t you? Don’t worry, I like you back. Seriously, I do.”

He doesn’t know how to reply to that. He doesn’t know if he wants to faint or make out with you right now. “So that makes us…?”

“I don’t know. We could remain friends, we could be boyfriend girlfriend, whatever you want. I don’t care.”

Well, he believes he already knows the answer he’s choosing.

[wishset]

i don't smoke, until i miss you boothill x reader

summary: Boothill was never a greedy man, he didn't ask for much yet he received the whole world. Just you and your child, he really didn't need much else, yet the cosmos seemed to have made a mistake and tried to rectify it by taking everything away.

explored themes. possibly ooc or lore inaccurate. 1k+ words, fluff to angst. written in 2nd pov. play i don't smoke while reading this, trust. can potentially be interpreted as platonic, if you squint rlly hard.

from author: i haven't played hsr in a while, yet researching boothill's lore just struck the rdr2 writer in me. per usual, i can't let myself be happy with anything but angst so grab a tissue. i haven't posted a work like this online before so i'm highkey nervous, but i'd love to hear what you think! there is some bonus info at the end, but i hope you enjoy this! (she said knowing this is what she ends up writing:)

Boothill was never one to smoke a cigarette, the most he would get close to one was standing next to you under a tree after a long day. You'd still offer him one, even though he always said no, as an act of acknowledgment. He couldn't do that now, though, the smoke would damage his robotic body even if he weren't the one inhaling it.

He'd be perched down on a large root of the tree you leaned back on, staring at your boots in his peripheral as you watched the sunset. The river running in the distance, your horses chewing on the grass below y'all when they weren't nipping at each other, the livestock settled down in the barns, and dinner sat on the warm fire for when the two of you returned.

"What's next?" He asks, his eyes following the line of your boot up to your face.

You always shrug, as if you never thought so far ahead. He did, fairly often in all truthfulness, and you only knew that because of how often he asked.

"'Suppose not much next, is there? Keep doin' this, 'till we're old and gray, then someone else takes over. Life goes on," you answer, flicking the ash out the tip of your cigarette.

He watches the ash burn itself in the grass as he thinks about your answer. It was food enough, neither of you learned much besides farm life. No such thing as anything more for the uneducated, which Boothill wouldn't have any other way.

He didn't mind waking and talking to Nick about the farm as he waited for you to come down for breakfast. He didn't mind wounding up the cattle every day while you watch or watching the horses while they round about the fields with you. The crops wouldn't harvest itself and there's no one else he'd rather harvest it with than you.

Life was good and Boothill was fine with it.

Would he have been so fine with it if you hadn't been hired by Nick and Graey when he turned a teen? He was glad he wouldn't have to find out. They hired a farmhand and he got a best friend, even if he was jealous they hired you in the first place.

He thought it meant he wasn't enough for them, not helpful enough, but that couldn't have been farther from the truth and you taught that to him.

And, while Boothill never liked to say he was right all along, there was more for the two of you than the repetitive cycles you'd fallen into. Matter of fact, he couldn't believe he was so content with just that now that you both had a daughter.

Maybe if you hadn't left your cigarette pack up in your room, the both of you wouldn't have returned when you did. Maybe if he wasn't waiting on the porch downstairs for you to return so you could join him at your usual place, he wouldn't have heard crying a little ways off from the house.

"What am I supposed ta' do with her?" He looks up at you when you find him. The cigarette pack falls into your pocket as if the box itself might contaminate the bundle of purity crying in Boothill's arms.

"Dunno. She like ta' join us?" You propose, motioning towards the tree up on a hill that waited patiently for you two. (Now, three.)

Boothill stood, joining you at full height. "Looks like she might."

The red-faced babe looked between the two of you, tears staining her little cheeks. How long has it been since you seen a baby? Quite a while, yet your first instinct still is to smile.

"Looks like it indeed."

From that day forward, you and Boothill were parents. Not even Nick or Graey questioned it when you both returned with a child. Finding one seemed to be common 'round those parts.

And boy, did parenthood change just about everything? She already had her first pony picked out before she could even walk, little boots and a hat, a sass about her, too.

Boothill couldn't recall the last time he was near a cigarette, not after you gave them to him to dispose of so that your little girl would never find them. It was never just the two of you at the tree again, always you three. Two grown horses and a little foal, growing along with her.

Now this he'd have no other way.

He was perched down on the large root of the tree beside you, where you sat as well. He could see the little girl in your lap in his peripheral, which he turned to look at when she called him. 

For her, it wasn't Boothill, something more like "Papa." She had this little giggle in her voice when she said it and even after the most tiring days, Boothill never had been happier.

"What's it, sugar?" He asks, turning to look at her. You look as well when she crawls out of your lap and stands, waddling her way over to him.

Was this how the mares felt when their foal stood and walked over to them for the first time? If it was, he was jealous it took him so long to figure it out for himself. You looked just as surprised as he felt and neither of you knew how to respond. Nick and Graey taught him everything he knew, yet the two of you taught him more every day.

Boothill was never one to smoke a cigarette, but now he was the one flicking ash off the tip and watching as it burned the knee of his pants. Now he couldn't get the stench of smoke off of him.

It was nice, even though his metal body hissed in disagreement. He took another puff, then another. Would you feel betrayed that he never really disposed of the pack of cigarettes? He didn't know. But it was late nights where he thought of how he got them in the first place he was glad he didn't.

It was a brand new pack when you came down from the house, now it was nearly halfway empty.

Was this what it smelt like when the house burned? Did it burn the same way? ─ No, it couldn't have. This burn burnt good, this burn was all he had left of you. This burn reminded him of you and the sacrifices you made for your daughter, this burn reminds him of the two of you and all the sacrifices he'll make for you.

bonus information: | more here.

[ 1 ] "It was a new pack when you came down from the house, now it was nearly halfway empty." That's about how many times Boothill found himself thinking of you, so much so he needed something palpable. Y'know, because everything was burned so all he has is this vague smell of you? I'm sorry. He also has blown through other packs when he just wants to remember the comfort your presence had brought him at one point, he only uses your pack on those nights.

[ 2 ] Wanna know another kicker? Boothill knows for a fact you wouldn't have been happy if you knew he smoked, before his enhancements and after. You used to tell him that they were bad for him, which he already knew, but that was very long ago in the overall timeline of this fic. When he thinks about those times, he smokes another.

[ 3 ] He doesn't have anything to remember your daughter by, he might've if the IPC nuke came a little later so that she could've given him the gift she'd been working on. You might've been able to give him your gift as well, so he had something healthier to cling on to. Those are long since burned and buried, though.

[ 4 ] In the image thing, my brain is blanking on what it's called, the "Everyone you love is dead anyway" is a reference to "You're going to die anyway". Yes, that is the front of a Marlboro pack, lol.

[ 5 ] Alright alright, you've cried enough tears, but if you notice any other little details, I'd love to talk about them/hear your thoughts. I poured my soul into this so many thanks for giving it a shot!

all rights reserved to wishset. do not copy, translate, or repost. can only be found on tumblr as of 06.30.

[hydrngea]

𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇

a/n : ahhh i've been so busy lately but i finally got the chance to write this last night! rafe’s kinda ooc so I apologize in advance lol hope you enjoy <3

notes/summary : early mornings are for appreciating you | rafe cameron x f!reader, fluff, established relationship (you’ve been together for years) 

word count : 804

masterlist / latest rafe fic 

daylight unwraps the hues of the room while the sun shines through the window you had neglected to cover up last night. rafe rouses with the light, eyes straining open. 

it’s early; early enough for him to get up and close the curtains over the arbiture and fall back asleep with ease. but for some reason he finds himself too comfortable in the position he in right now-can’t get himself to abandon his spot on the bed and the warmth that radiates from you.

 he stretches closer beside you, turning to lay with his back towards the window and facing you. he leans himself against his palm while creating a barrier between you and the light. he’s glad you sleep on your stomach, means the sun won’t get into your eyes and you can stay asleep.

mindlessly, his free digits find the curve of your back and trace over your skin; the imprints of the wrinkled sheets left on your preassure points. the faded strech marks on the flip side of your arms. the freckles on your shoulder. 

he thinks his new favorite activity is finger painting over your features;t here’s just something about the way his calloused finger pads feel against the softness of your untouched complexion which could keep him occupied and content for hours.

rafe was never the inventive type, never good with shapes like an artist or spoken phrases like a poet. even with no knowledge of creative subjects he knew without having to study you for long that you were a work of art.

he thinks- even though he doesn’t know much about his existence- that god must of carved you just for him to admire. 

minutes pass. the tangerine mountains of the sunrise fade to the comforting yellow the of the day and the sky returning to its familiar morning blue.

his exhales synchronize with yours, the room filled with a comfortable silence which feels so underrated. 

you’re the one to break it, limbs shifting under the comforter you’ve mostly stolen off of him and lips smacking together as you awake. 

you lift your head from your pillow and look at rafe with unfocused eyes which are just beginning  to regulate to the abnormal amount of light that blankets the surface of the bedroom. 

“shouldve closed the blinds last night,” you say as  press your palms onto your eye sockets, and rafe can’t help but laugh. he pulls you on-top of him and you comply,  letting out your own breathy chuckle because of how clingy he’s acting so early in the morning. your nose grazes the side of his before you slump down over him, cheek resting on his bare chest and ear right over his heart. 

gentle lips brush on your hair and you melt on top of him, wrapping you own arms around his waist. he can feel your lips curving into a smile against his skin. “how long you’ve been staring at me?” you ask, head lifting from his chest to look at him.

“dunno.” he responds, voice still gruff. a hum exerts from you as you relax back into him. 

again the two of you fall into a warm silence, content with being within each others space. no words are said and he returns to stenciling you; drawing shapes and patterns while trying to memorize you shape and every minuscule detail about your body as if you’d disappear any moment. 

rafe thinks about all he didn’t do to deserve such a heaven sent gift like you. even after years together, there’s still a part of him who believes you deserve more, better. someone as pure as you. he thinks maybe he should express his gratitude towards you more often. 

he’s the one to cease the quiet this time, softly at first. “i feel like..” he fingers begin to drag over the same spot while he tries to come up with the right words to say. 

“like what?” 

“like you were made for me. like i was made for you.”

his words make you sit up, locking your eyes with his. “what has gotten into you today, mr. whipped cameron.” you whisper as you lower your mouth onto his and press a gentle kiss at the corner of his lips. 

 he chuckles into you, lightly squeezing your waist. “nothing.” 

 “nothing?” he lets out a sigh as you pull away with your brow furrowed.

“just promise me you’ll never leave.” 

“well if u keep saying stuff like that then why would i ever want to?” you say, dimples on display as your lips curve into a smile. 

he scoffs, and you let out a screech when rafe flips the two of you over so he hovers over you. your hands find his cheeks, and you lift yourself up just enough to meet him halfway. 

“i would never leave this.” you murmur against him, right before his lips spark over yours.

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

taglist (let me know if you would like to be added!) : @mrsstarkey1 @of-many-fandomss @maybankslover @penny4yourthoughts 

follow and reblog and i’ll do the same for you! 

[bisexualiteaa]

Is it ok to request ? I’m obsessed w/ Gale from BG3. Any loving is wanted / needed. I feel he would be ok w/ a strong partner after Mystra .

Love Within a Moonlit Tower

Gale Dekarios x Fem Reader (fluff and SMUT MDNI!!)

CW: established relationship, slight deviation from the game, slight OOC Gale, nauseatingly sweet fluff, mentions of steamy romance book, mentions of his past relationship with Mystra, established marriage, cursing, body worship, p in v, unprotected seggs, multiple 0rgasms, multiple creampies, slight dumbification, possible grammar/spelling errors.

AN: another one I’ve had in the vaults waiting for the right time to tweak it and drop, I’m so sorry it took me this long to get to Anon! 😭 Thank you for your lovely request, I hope I did it any justice because I too love our resident wizard man. 🥺🫶

The quiet sounds of the birds chirping their mid-day song softly infiltrated through the half opened windows of the library. You could feel the warm rays of the sun flooding in, the gentle breeze washing over you, tousling your hair slightly as your fingers glide amidst the parchment pages of your book. The smell of books new and old filled your nose with its familiar and calming scent, mingling with that of the candles which lit your lovely reading space. You were fully immersed into the story that you were reading, the title of it having stood out to you amongst the others when you found it whilst perusing the bookshelves a few days prior. A slight blush tinted your cheeks as your reading reached a rather raunchy romance scene. The images played out in your mind, built from the well versed description inked upon the pages, every detail recounted as if you were there to experience it yourself. You crossed your legs, clasping your thighs together and biting your lip as you read onwards, finding yourself rather picturing you and Gale in such a scene rather than the two characters within the story. Almost watching as the two characters caught up in each other’s embrace, from well drawn out foreplay to tastefully described sex, you couldn’t help the tingling buzz of arousal that began to drum deep within your core. It left you so bothered, you hadn’t realized the room had begun to grow hot around you, or that a certain wizardly husband of yours had entered the room. You let out a little excited giggle as you read on, your mouth going agape in pleased shock on occasion as you read some of the interesting, and rather thrilling, things the characters were doing with one another. It almost reminded you of the good old days spent adventuring together, finding many a nights a bed beneath the stars and wine not far from reach as your limbs tangled with Gale’s in your best attempts at a romantic rendezvous.

“My, someone certainly seems to be enjoying themselves. I was wondering where you’d run off to. You’re starting to take after me with the way you lock yourself away and read all day” your husband spoke teasingly, making your face turn red as you snapped the book shut in embarrassment and turned your attention to him. “Oh! Hello love! I got so caught up in reading that I hadn’t realized how much time had passed, my apologies” you said sweetly, with such saccharine coated innocence to your tone as you looked up at him, praying your actions wouldn’t raise his suspicions. He smiled at you before his eyes peered down towards the cover of your book then back up to your flustered face. No wonder you reacted the way you did, he interrupted a rather intimate reading. “Ah, I remember reading that one! I had a rather similar reaction upon even my Tryssm entering the room whilst I was nose deep in it. Certainly wouldn’t have been my first guess at what you would pick, but it would be far from me to judge my wife’s tastes in literature” he said, moving closer to you. “Though a part of me deep down has been hoping that you’d stumble across it. Judging by your reactions I’d say you find it quite enjoyable, hmm?” he asked, his suave, deep voice right by your ear, his breath fanning along your neck as he spoke, sending pleasant tingles to your core that fanned the burning embers within you.

You gave a giggle to his response, finding your bottom lip trapped once more between your teeth as you leaned your head to the side, granting him access to your neck as your eyes held a dreamy gaze. “I do. Reminds me a lot of our days adventuring together. The carnage, the battles, the…midnight trysts” you responded, making him chuckle as his lips pressed soft, but tingling kisses to your shoulders, taking note of the dip in your tone that reflected a mood that words had yet to confirm. “I rather enjoyed our late night rendezvous, especially the ones after a heated battle” he replied with a grin. “How we could hardly keep our eyes off of one another while traveling. Then once we’d return to camp, all bloody and adrenaline coursing through our veins, hardly able to keep our hands to ourselves either” you added as his hands smoothed down your shoulders and down the expanse of your arms, the added sensation only fueling the growing fire in your belly. “Perhaps one day we could collaborate on a steamy, action packed story of our own. Recant the epic tales of our concurring of the elder brain! And all the juicy, lascivious bits in between” he excitedly suggested, making you chuckle before turning and placing your hand to his scruffy cheek lovingly, pulling him into a kiss. “Mmm…I rather like that idea. Though I’m afraid if you put it in my hands, I may find myself writing more of our flitting romance and steamy sexual adventures rather than focusing on the biggest victory Baldur’s Gate has seen in centuries” you said into it, a small giggle slipping past you and a smirk growing to your lips as seduction dripped from your honeyed voice. Before you knew it, your once chaste kiss grew a little deeper. “Who would I be to stop you?” He asked, a grin of his own stretching to his lips as a chuckle resonated from his chest, pride swelling his heart that was filled only with the undying love he held for you.

“You know…we’ve yet to break in the library, darling” you stated after your lips parted to allow you both a chance to breathe, your eyes half lidded and holding that mischievous, yet loving gaze of wanting that he loved seeing so much. He only ever wished he could immortalize it in a painting to hang all around the tower, but seeing it every time pointed in his direction because of his doing, was plenty enough to satisfy. He grinned and gave a hum with intrigue at your proposal. “We haven’t yet, have we?” he replied before standing up, grabbing the book from you and placing it aside as he moved in front of you. “That mistake can be easily remedied. IF you’re up for it of course!” he said, making you grin up at him as your hands found his before standing, placing them on your hips to allow him to hold you close. “Gale, my love, has there ever been a time where I haven’t been?” you asked in response, making him grin and chuckle once more. “Certainly none that I can recall, but as gentle as you have been with me, I intend to do the same in return. The last thing I’d wish to do is misinterpret your desires” he responded, making you snake your hands up his chest before resting them on his shoulders. “You haven’t, but I thank you for taking the extra care” you replied sweetly, resting your forehead softly against his as you closed your eyes to bask in the moment together. “Anything for you, my treasure” he spoke in kind, words you knew that held genuine promise behind them rather than empty falsehoods. “Then I say we break in the library, perhaps even relive some old times while doing so” you said, pulling him in for another kiss as his hands traversed your curves. “You mean…like this?” He asked, picking you up and backing you against a bookcase, your legs wrapped around his hips as he held you up. The ever growing smile on your face, paired with the look of pleasant surprise made his dick twitch with excitement from beneath his robes. Gods how he loved you, no goddess could ever make him feel the way you do from just one look alone. “Remind you of the nights we’d spend by the water? Teasing one another as we bathed in the waterfalls and we’d have each other up against the rocks” he recounted as his kisses trailed down your neck, leaving shameless hickies in his wake. “Reminds me a lot of the time where I made you jealous, so you drank a potion of hill giant strength, then proceeded to pick me up and slammed me up against a tree and have your way with me so Wyll, Astarion and Halsin knew I had eyes for only you” you replied with a giggle through your moans as he found every sensitive spot he could, knowing the map of your body like the contents of his favorite book. “Certainly not my smartest use of a potion, but worth it in my eyes to have had you screaming all night” he added as he ground his hips against you, making you tilt your head back against the bookcase as your eyes fluttered shut for a moment in bliss. “Seemed a good use to me. I never was one for being quiet but that night was certainly one I’d never forget” you said teasingly through a fit of giggles before a louder moan escaped you as his hardened cock rubbed against your clothed clit from the confines of his robes. “It’s one of the many things I love about you” he responded. “Fuck, Gale please…” you begged breathlessly.

Your mind was lost on the way that your back had met the hard wood and leather covers of books within the bookshelf you were pressed against. To you, all you felt was the pleasurable stretch of him sheathed inside of you, then the feeling of his tip nestled against your bundle of nerves deep within you, pistoning in and out, nudging the entrance to your cervix. You laid your head back against the bookcase for stability as your eyes shut tight, moans escaping your throat like a symphony to his ears as you cried his name like a prayer. “Fuck, Gale…just like that” you praised as his lips once again littered your skin with soft kisses, as if he was worshipping you. In truth, he was. No goddess bestowed him the kindness you have, no goddess offered him the love and patience you so graciously have given him over the time you’ve spent with him. No one could ever compare to you, no legendary hero, no god above, you were a category of your own. Someone who not only sated, but *saved* him, offering him a life he could have never imagined to become a reality. There was nothing in this world anyone could ever offer him that would even closely rival that of your affections, and with each time he made love to you, he wanted to make that sentiment known to you.

You paid little mind to the dull ache beginning to rise in your back, nor for the thought of how tense or sore you would be later and even into tomorrow for it, what mattered was having your husband in your arms with you, enjoying this tender moment. You two had been going like this for gods only knows how long, your brain muddled from your previous orgasms as his stayed deep within you, only to occasionally drip down to the floor and coat your thighs with his essence. “Just one more. You can give me one more, can’t you love?” He asked, making you nod your head yes in response as words were all but lost on you, your mind effectively reduced to mush as the only words able to leave you were cries and pleas of his name. He loved when he could get you like this, so high from adrenaline, so drunk from pleasure that your usually bustling mind became blank as a sheet of fresh parchment. Before you, he isolated himself from the world, isolated himself away from people where books were his only form of stimulation. While it wasn’t conducive for pleasures of the flesh, he loved the way that he could reduce you to such pleasurable mindlessness. To make you feel good despite his insecurities. Over time he’s only gotten better, memorizing your body inside and out, noting where your most sensitive places lie, what pace and positions you like most. You’ve helped him, not only through physical touch but through everything in between. Where once stood a man who thought the only way to prove his worth to the world was to allow himself to be consumed by the weave, now stood a man with more confidence and happiness than you’d ever seen in him. He only wished you’d see it from his eyes, what all you’ve done for him and how you make him feel, but he would always be more than happy to show you on days where the words just could not explain it.

“I love you” he proclaimed, making you smile as you leaned forward and kissed him sweetly. “I love you too” you answered in kind, pressing your forehead to his as you panted and moaned, finding yourself nearing your end once more. His gaze fell to where you were both connected, watching himself move in and out of you, watching you stretch and the way you coated his dick in your slick. The way you squeezed tightly around him, throwing your head back as you let out a cry of release was what did him in for the final time, feeling your walls milk him of everything he could give you. You both stood there, panting and trying to catch your breath as the pleasurable feeling of your after glow fell upon you, allowing you both to find one another in a soft, loving kiss once more. “The one part I don’t miss from our late night misadventures is certainly the back aches from being had up against any solid thing around” you spoke, your shared laughs filling the otherwise quiet room as you recounted the many times of tree bark practically mauling your skin, or the aches and bruises of rocks once being your only form of stable ground. “A shame, means the stairs are out of the question then” he replied playfully, making you laugh. “At least we can check the library off the list, but I’ll think about the stairs if it fancies you so much, it would be only fair” you said with a giggle. “At least the balcony has a nice love seat” Gale added, making you grin as he helped you down and in getting stable on your feet, helping you clean up before you slid your robe on and he got redressed. “Maybe later we can put it to good use” you proposed with a smirk, kissing his cheek as he grinned. “With an ocean front view like that? Bound to be a romantic night for sure. Perhaps we can have dinner out there as well, have a date night in of sorts with a few glasses of wine and maybe a handful of those decadent desserts you love so much” he added, making you hum with intrigue at the idea, nothing but pure love residing in your gaze as you looked up at him. “Then consider it a date, Mr. Dekarios“ you replied, making him chuckle as he leaned down to kiss you softly once more before releasing you from his hold. “Maybe pull out that dress you’ve been wishing to wear, I’d love to see it on you” he said, making you smile. “Perhaps I will, but first I intend to freshen up. Feel free to join me” you said, leaning up against the doorway as you spoke before leaving to find the bath. He watched as your hips swayed and you sauntered teasingly out of the room, waiting to see if he would trail behind you.

It was little moments like these that he’d never felt more lucky.

[sxeraphfic]

6 with Loki!! NSFW please (maybe smut? hhaha) he’s saying!!! thankss

DETECTIVE LOKI -  JEALOUSY NSFW PROMPT    

╰┈➤“It looked like he was trying to flirt with you”

Pairing: David Loki x reader 

Word count: 2232

WARNINGS: p in v sex, creampie, slight grinding, possessive sex, biting, marking, swearing, average dirty talk, spanking, palming, semi-public, loki is a little bit of a grump at the start, not super ooc i hope, both of you are a little toxic lol, fingers in mouth. Let's assume birth control is in place here. Lol. Think that's it, there might be more. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈  

This is actually my first ever published nsfw fic, so please go easy on me <3 Enjoy my loves!

You and Loki had been coworkers for what felt like an eternity by now, he was a diligent person who took his occupation acutely seriously. Which is grounds for why he managed to not only get promoted up to being a sergeant of the sector you worked in, but also have exclusive access to his own private office and dictatorship over other workers' roles. Unmistakably, he is incredible as a detective and supervisor. That being said, he isn't perfect. He’s reckless, arrogant, stubborn, cocky,  antisocial, a workaholic  and breaking what would be considered a societal rule of workplaces. Don't mess around with your coworker! 

You two had been in a secret situationship for around almost a year now, casual but also intense. No-one in your work suspected a thing either, Loki was just as good at hiding things as he was at figuring them out. The thing about casual yet intense secret situationships is that how concrete the “relationship” actually is, could be considered shaky. He’s never really explicitly made it clear to even you what you both are, despite spending almost every waking hour outside of work together whether that be romantic dates, cuddling, sex etc. Did this frustrate you? Yes. You wanted him to be emotionally available and ready for you, to not have to wonder to yourself whether he even considers you an actual partner or not. You'd bring up the question and he would act so stupidly nonchalant about it or say he just wants to “let it go with the flow.”  

Does he even give a shit? You sighed to yourself staring at the timed out screen of your computer, leaning back and stretching your back and arms out. 

Before you could go back to your daydreams, or work for that matter. You heard one of your coworkers call out your name from across the room. 

“Hey! y/n! y/n! C'mere for a sec.” Your coworker Miles announced 

Your cheeks widened, Miles was a relatively new guy around your age. He was kind of childish, bright, bubbly and overall just a nice guy. You were assigned to train him and since then he's more or less stuck by your side and been a great coworker for you to do cases and research with.  

Making your way over to his desk you spotted a certain someone from the corner of your eye. Loki, walking towards another coworker's desk yet clearly distracted by whatever you were up to. He thinks he's good at having a poker face, and he is. Just not with you, that furrowed eyebrow and light frown said it all. It's mainly your fault he's on high alert right now though, a few nights ago you felt tired of feeling like you were just an undecided casual fling for him. And so you may have.. Accidentally made a point that if he doesn't make a decision on what you guys are, you'll find someone else to be the one for you.     

It pissed him off, clearly. But you assumed that you were both over that silly little argument by now since things had been relatively normal, but guesses are that wasn't the case.  You and  Miles chatted for around ten minutes or so, maybe even less. You giggled a few times here and there and even absent mindedly placed your hand on his shoulder, in the back of your head you realised how this may look to Loki and internally shuddered.

He began to stutter, “oh..oh um.. By the way y/n”  

“Yes Miles?”

“I was thinking..um.. Well if you want to at some point we would like.. Maybe hang outside of work? Go to a bar or something?” he continued on “i mean- it's fine if not but y’know.. You're so sweet and kind to me… and well, beautiful.”  

You saw from the corner of your eye Loki making his way over, oh boy.  

“We are doing work here right, the two of you?” he asked sternly. You rolled his eyes at him “Yes Loki, we are. It's just unlike you, some people have lives outside of work” Miles looked awkwardly between you and Loki, the tension in the air was insanely thick. “Yeah uh.. Sorry about that Loki. I guess I got kind of distracted since y/n is fun to talk to” he smiled before semi-flirtatiously winking at you. Loki didn't twitch a single muscle in his face, you gave Miles an awkward smile to alleviate the atmosphere. Before Loki scoffed and pointed towards your desk “y/n. Off back to your desk please. I have some paperwork I need you to fill.” and then proceeded to turn to miles ``Miles, i know you're new here but flirting and dating is strictly prohibited in the workplace. If I catch that again you will be in trouble.” You huffed and walked away, how hypocritical of him..

It was past 11 pm now, the station was practically empty besides maybe a few less than a dozen people working. Loki had so happened to ask you to stay back to “talk about documents,” but you were well aware of what the conversation was really about. You walked into his office, immediately crossing your arms together.  

“Come closer.'' He directed, pointing you to stand next to him as he sat down in his chair finishing up some paperwork. “So, wanna explain what was happening earlier? I saw that. And heard it” he continued on “It looked like he was trying to flirt with you, or maybe you were trying to flirt with him too.”

You extended your hand to his back, slowly moving up to his shoulder and beginning to massage him gently to cool him off. “Well no i wasn't flirting with him, but i didn't realise we were exclusive like that David.” he scoffed, and you huffed in return. “last time i checked our thing was barely even a thing right? Hardly even a label on it,” you began to apply more pressure to his shoulders. “Thats fucking hilarious” he asserted with an unfriendly grin, “So you want us to be an official thing and yet you accept others flirting with you right infront of me, really?” he pushed your hands off him and in response you glared at him. He continued on, “After our little argument the other day you have to have some sort of understanding on why I might be fuckin’ concerned.”

“What? I hardly accepted it..and even so you expect me to just sit around here waiting for you to be ready to label our relationship??? How about you look at the reality here David. You refuse to make the claim on me. Maybe someone like Miles would actually be able to commit and I appreciate the idea of it.” 

David looked at you with shame on his face, something strangely comforting considering the argument you were in right now and his usual stubborn self. “Look Y/N, I know.. That i'm not exactly good at this whole thing. I’m so used to being alone that the thought of giving myself fully to someone.. well.. scares me.” he placed face into his palm “I don't want to be uncommitted to you, i want you to be mine. And maybe this has made me realise that.” He wrapped his arm around your waist and guided you to sit on his lap, wheeling his chair back a little for space. “The thought of some little twerp like Miles flirting with you drives me crazy.  I know it's selfish but I want you to myself without the fear of uh.. Well, abandonment.”  

You stretched your arms around his shoulders and pressed your forehead against his “I'm not leaving you David.. You're all I want.” “So make me yours please, commit me to me..” you whispered to him softly. His breath hitched and he sighed, pressing his lips against yours before tugging at your bottom lip ever so slightly with his teeth. The pinch of it made you squeak, you reached up to his hair and tugged on it tenderly. He pushed you up against him so he could have proper access to your neck, Slowly biting and sucking it between different places to give you light bruises. You moaned, beginning to rock your hips against him to gain some pressure against your clothed pussy. The sound of him growling against your neck as he sucked on the skin vibrated right down to your core, “Fuck this feels good, David” you gasped. “God y/n i want to ravage you right now” he whispered against you before leaning into another deep kiss, you could feel his dick throbbing through his pants as you both swirled and pressed tongues together. 

You began to palm him through his pants during your kiss, stroking and feeling up the growing length. “David.. What if we get caught?” you said in between breaths. He choked out a stammered laughed in response “Fuck i don't even know if i care y/n, i need you so badly i wouldn't mind if people found out.” You giggled slightly, staring deeply into his eyes. “That's just your dick talking, but it's pretty empty in the station.. I'm sure it'll be fine.” You used that to cue him to start pulling down your pencil skirt and panties, whilst you unbuttoned his shirt and undressed his lower region halfway down to his thighs. His dick was hard and leaking with precum, his face flushed red. “You look so needy right now dave.” he sighed in response and you snickered as you began to grind your exposed wet pussy against his cock. He began rubbing his sticky hot tip up against your clit for extra stimulation and you whined, settling your head against his shoulder weakly. He furrowed his brow and showed his toothy grin “Look at you. a complete mess in my office on my lap, what happened to me being needy?”  Before you could get another rebuttal in, he moved his hands down your body to your hips and began to align your hole to his cock. As he steadily pushed into you he groaned into your neck. “Fuuuck y/n” he murmured as he began to thrust up and down, you moaned in response pulling against his hair. He swiftly spanked your ass with one hand and placed the other around the nape of your neck massaging it, enjoying the whimpers and mewls he’d pull from your lips.  

Unexpectedly the two of you heard footsteps from outside his office, both of you froze in place unsure of what to do 

“Detective Loki? Are you there? May I come in please?” a voice of one of your coworkers called from outside the door 

You expected him to stop and pull you off, but he smirked coyly and inserted three fingers into your mouth and began to slowly thrust into you again. You arched your back in response, trying to contain your moans and noises of slurping from the drool beginning to fill your mouth and dribble down your chin.  

“Uh.. yeah i'm in here, look i need some uh.. um.. space for the moment” he awkwardly yelled back out, even you could see in his eyes that his adrenaline was at a maximum right now. What on earth was he thinking? 

“Oh.. i have some pretty important paperwork man i-” David interrupted him before he could finish, “Please just leave it at your desk and i'll..” he stared at the way you were grinding up and down onto his dick, before snapping back to reality,  “...come pick it up when I'm ready.” David was struggling to contain himself. He gazed into your eyes as you swirled your tongue around his fingers pushing in and out of your mouth, simultaneously thrusting his cock slowly and deeply inside of you. The warmth and stickiness of your bodies pressed against each other made him melt back into his leather chair.

As soon as he heard the door from outside his office shut he briskly lifted you up and flipped you over onto your stomach against his desk, he leaned down pressing his chest against your back, the pressure of his weight crushing you was so intense yet felt so good. “God you're sexy y’know that?” he half whined half growled into your ear, his thrusts becoming more and more powerful. You cried out in pleasure, unable to move or escape from the position. He pulled your hair to gain access to your ear, gently nibbling on your lobe as he continued his deep and sharp thrusts. “You’re all fucking mine y/n” he groaned, “Oh god i feel like i'm gonna cum David. Please cum in me” You yelped out squirming beneath him, gripping onto the edge of his now mess of a desk. He didn't need to be told twice to do so, he buried his face into your neck before pressing a final thrust into you, loading thick streams of cum inside. You practically shrieked, it felt incredible.  

Afterwards you both just sat there together on his chair, unsure of what to do with the mess you made. But content and loving in each other's arms with him stroking his fingers through your hair.

“Bet he couldn't make you feel that good ay?” he chuckled.

partially proof read, will come back to check on it when i wake up <3

[inosukijiro]

𝗔𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗡𝗦

𝙨𝙮𝙣. ━ inosuke expresses his love through acorns.

━ 𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. thought this was cute. probably a little ooc but i tried.

━ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨. none. just fluff

Inosuke had this habit of gathering acorns for you. Living in the woods his whole life and growing up being raised by boars, he was very obviously one with nature. He understood it. Despite not having the same intense hearing as Zenitzu or nose like Tanjiro, he understood the way trees moved in the breeze, the way the leaves would talk to one another, and the other earthly sounds that surrounded him at all times. He wasn’t a calm and collected person, he knew that. He wasn’t quiet. He was loud, obnoxious, boisterous and lacked patience unless it benefited him.

But he knew the beauty of nature. The way trees stood tall and proud and strong, just like mountains. The way the grass sometimes sparkles after it rains or the way the sun hits the world just the right way as it comes up over the horizon. Its colors fade from the dark of night into nice oranges as the glowing sun takes its place in the sky. But his favorite is at the end of day, when the sun goes down. Where he sits, exhausted, though he’d never admit it, from the events of the day awaiting for what will happen tomorrow. He always knew of these things. Always knew that it was there. But he never took the time to take in every last detail of it. Not until you.

Inosuke liked oak trees. They were big, beautiful and strong; just like his love for you. He gave you acorns because as they were the seeds for those big strong trees, it was like he was handing out his heart to you, handing you his love. He made it his own personal mission to give them to you every chance he could.

He was like a puppy. Getting out of bed earlier than most to go out searching for the perfect acorn. It really shouldn’t take him as long as it does, but he goes through so many just to find the one that's the most shiny, the most strong, the one that will have you singing his praises. He’s inspecting every single one till he’s satisfied and soon he is at your bedside waiting for you to wake up. He could just wake you up himself, in Inosuke fashion; shaking you, loud, and rough, but you look so nice and peaceful. And he has this urge to sit there and wait.

It took a long time for him to understand what love was. At first he thought he was allergic to you. Which confused his little underlings when they demanded to know why he was avoiding you. With the heat rising to his cheeks like a fever and the red that spread over them like a rash, Inosuke assumed that he needed to stay away from you – for his safety and yours.

Tanjiro had to explain it to him. And even though Zenitzu could be found laughing in the background, Inosuke couldn’t be bothered to pay him any attention. Inosuke was too focused reveling in the fact of this new information, that he could finally put a name to what he was feeling. Because surely the redness of your cheeks and the way you stared at him for a little too long meant that you felt the same way too. (you did)

Inosuke knew that he felt weird around you. And it took a long while for him to come to terms that it was a good thing that he felt. He knew that he liked your face and he also knew that he liked being close to you. He liked when your attention was on him, and he especially liked it when you gave him praise for his strength. He also knew that he wanted to keep you safe. He was Lord Inosuke after all, it was his job to keep you safe – whether you were also a demon slayer or not.

So, he gives you acorns. He gives you only a few at a time because you only deserve the best and finding the most perfect ones is almost impossible, as he only has so much time on his hands. Between recovering and going on missions; he eats, breathes and sleeps demon slaying. He wants to be the best and the strongest. But for you, he makes time.

And you keep them. You take them from him as he gently places them into your cupped hands. Inosuke has never handled anything with such care and delicacy in his life. But your hands were so soft; are so soft. And you look so enamored, was that even the correct word? Yes, it had to be. Inosuke watches with such care and concern. You liked them right? Of course. You thank him so graciously, with a smile that could make Inosuke almost melt into a puddle. He's speechless. He doesn’t know why.

He watches as you place them with the others. In a wide mouthed clear mason jar, with a blue bow tied around the top, you reach in your hand and gently place them in. They are on display for anyone who walks into your room, and Inosuke can help but feel prideful.

But then you turn and tell him to wait. He’s confused, though he sees you rummaging through a drawer and he realizes you are looking for something. Something for him.

“This rock reminds me of my love for you. Solid and dependable. They can withstand harsh storms with unwavering strength. It’s … enduring and unyielding. Like someone's love. Some rocks may not be flashy or extravagant, but they don’t need to be. It’s just… this one, when I saw it, I knew that it was something special. Please accept this as if it is my heart.”

You held out this rock, one that Inosuke thought was so nice looking, he didn’t know how you thought it was good enough for him. It was much larger than a pebble and it looked like it was hand picked from the koi pond over at Mr. Tomiokas’ estate.

Inosuke didn’t know if it was a known fact, and honestly, Inosuke or yourself didn’t really care to find out from others – but he admired Mr. Tomioka heavily. It was either between his calm demeanor or his fighting style, but either way, Inosuke thought that he was really cool.

And maybe that admiration extended to the koi pond that Mr. Tomioka had. He liked watching the fish swimming around in the calm water, minding their own business as the world went on around them. Sometimes, when Inosuke went through a little mental crisis, he often thought about what it might be like if he were a fish. Would you love me if I were a koi fish, type thinking process. He used to think how sad that would be. No fighting? No killing demons? How boring. But sometimes, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. You could keep him in a little fish tank and feed him all the tempura he wanted.

Inosuke knows better than to take one – however – because no matter how much he likes watching them he knows that he can’t take care of it. And he also knows that no one would trust him with one either. Probably thinks that he would eat it too, which he would – probably. At least, not the ones Mr. Tomioka owns. But still, sometimes he watches the Hashira feed them and he notices how the arrangement of stones seems to mirror his personality.

And here he was now, given a stone from his koi pond from you. Somewhere deep inside himself he feels a mixture of excitement and gratitude. He never really expected anything in return. He liked giving you those acorns because that was how he expressed his love for you. How he expresses his appreciation for your existence. But for you to return the sentiment was special to him. It was more than excitement and gratitude, actually. Was he flattered? Maybe that was the word. You’ve used it before when he’d given you things and the smile on your face was blinding. Yes, that was it. He was flattered, and couldn’t help feeling his face getting hot. He had never felt so paid attention to, and Inosuke couldn’t contain himself.

He held the stone in his hand. Held it with such gentleness like it was glass, like if he breathed wrong it would break into pieces. He shot forwards and grasped you into a hug. It was such an Inosuke hug that you couldn’t help but giggle as he held you. He squished you tenderly, rough enough just like Inosuke but soft enough that made you aware of how considerate to your bodily autonomy he was – it made your heart melt beautifully.

His boar head was long discarded and the warmth of his lips on yours was more than welcome.

[the-whispers-of-death]

The Stars and the Moon

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male!Reader Summary: You are outside the base, just staring up at the night sky and enjoying the peace the sight evokes. Ghost joins you. Content: Fluff, so much fluff, Ghost so soft he's most likely ooc, Closed off!Reader, desi!Reader, Reader has been in the military for a while, a tiny bit of cursing (like one bad word). Word Count: 990 words Author's Note: Simon currently has the hold on my brain rot, RIP my love John Price. I'd think he'd love to star-gaze, so I wrote this with him in mind and then he was like "What if I just loved Reader more than the stars and the moon?". He took over my brain to write for me and I just couldn't stop him.

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You stood outside the base, a few steps to the left of the entrance to the base. It was a chilly night tonight, a soft breeze ruffling your clothes and your short-cropped black hair.

Your eyes were on the starry night sky, taking every detail of the twinkling stars and the bright full moon. It was peaceful, a respite from all of the chaos of war.

There was no bloodshed here. No screams of pain that permeated the air. Just you and the stars.

Until you heard the door to the base open and a pair of heavy footsteps walk over to you, interrupting the peaceful silence.

“What are you doing out here, lad?” Ghost asked as he settled right next to you. His honey-brown eyes that were the only features of his that were showing beneath his balaclava and white skull mask went to the night sky, as if he too wanted to find the peace in it that you did.

You sighed, sitting down on the concrete ground, no care that there were chairs that you could’ve sat on. “Just looking at the stars, needed a reminder that not everything is drenched with blood,” you murmured.

Ghost was silent for a few seconds before he grunted and sat down on the concrete, joining you. “Guess the stars, they are pretty.”

That was the last thing he said before silence washed over you two, a familiar occurrence. Both of you had at least ten years in the military, having seen your fair share of traumatic things. So you two often gravitated towards each other, two broken soldiers seeking each other out in hopes you’ll bring out the light in each other.

“Though, you know, you’re more peaceful than the stars ever could be,” Ghost said after a few minutes, his gruff voice so soft that it was barely a whisper. He turned his head to look at you, his piercing brown eyes boring into you, taking in your brown skin that had a few old battle scars on it, your brown eyes which twinkled in the moonlight. “Lad, you know that, don’t you?”

You turned to look at him, raising a brow. “I’m just a soldier, Ghost.”

“Simon.”

No one on the Task Force ever called him “Simon”, except for Price, but even then Price didn’t call him by it that much. And most of the time when others tried to call him by first name, he’d correct them with his call sign. But you… You got to call him “Simon” now.

“Simon,” you said, memorizing the way it rolled off your tongue like it belonged there. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m surely not more peaceful than the stars. They’re breathtaking and a symbol of all that’s left to explore, a symbol of a vast universe. They’ve been written about in poems for centuries to evoke feelings of content and beauty.”

Ghost scooted closer on the concrete to you, his warm gloved hand resting on your thigh. “You’re breathtaking,” he murmured, his voice full of awe. “The way you move, the way you laugh, the way you don’t take any bullshit. It’s breathtaking, absolutely mesmerizing. Sure, the stars are evidence of a vast universe, but who needs a vast universe to explore when there’s you?”

His hand on your thigh tightened and he pulled you closer, so close you were almost sitting on his lap. It was enough to get your heart racing.

“What good are the stars and the moon if they’re not you? They can’t make me feel safe like you can, they can’t make me laugh. They can’t complete me.” His other hand languidly moved along your side, up your neck and jaw until it cupped your cheek, so gentle and tender. “The stars are beautiful, but there’s nothing more beautiful than a good man, a man who knows of war and bloodshed and still fights for the greater good. And that’s you. You could’ve retired by now, settled down, but you’re here. You’re here with me, along side all of us, getting your hands dirty with blood and ashes so that those back home can sleep well at night.”

Your eyes fluttered at his words, your body melting against his touch. “Simon, I’m not all you make me up to be. I’m not some perfect human being.”

Ghost nodded, leaning in until his forehead pressed against yours. “I know. And that what makes me love you.”

His confession took the breath out of your lungs, your eyes wide as you stared into his.

“These past few months that we have grown closer have only made me fall in love with you,” he whispered, his lips so close but so far away due to his balaclava and mask. “And I can’t hold it in anymore. Please, please tell me to stop, to go away, and I will.”

“Don’t,” you replied, shaking your head when he wanted to pull away, your hand reaching for his, which still cupped your cheek. “Don’t leave, don’t go. I’ve fallen in love with you too.”

Your heart ached for him, your mind never strayed from thoughts of him. Of his laugh, his corny jokes, the way his presence filled up a room. On the surface, you thought your want—need—for him to be by your side was because he was your friend, the only one who took one look at your broken, closed off soul and said he’d stay by your side, but you knew that it was deeper than that. You were just as entranced by him as he was by you.

“Stay with me,” you begged softly.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” Ghost said, no longer trying to pull away from you. His eyes closed as he pressed his forehead against yours just the tiniest bit harder. “As long as you'll have me, I’m yours.”

“Then let me be your stars and the moon.”

“Be my universe.”

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated!