#read it as platonic or poly

[graspingremlinhands]

Ichi: I don't understand, people who get in relationships and call each other cheap pet names. Like sugar or honey. They should raise the bar and call them expensive things.

Godzilla: Good morning my beautiful electric bills.

Mothra: I love you grocery list.

Rodan: How's going my dear student loans?

Ichi: I hate you all.

[triglycercule]

alright,,,,,is this newyears gift,,,,,, i dont no. but maybe it's late enough that i'll be able to forget that i drew this 😁😁😁😁 mttpoly doodles. whoever sees this sees this

[velvetwyrme]

me while in the middle of writing like 4 other things: what if. soundwave/reader/jazz fic. what then.

[kumakuma-circus]

tbh i think stopping playing p3p early on and switching to playing p4 for our first persona game was probably a good decision because as much as i love p3. i don't know if we could handle that crap-

[stargirlie-sharon]

Would you redraw this screenshot but with the rescue team as yanderes?

Could you also do some yandere headcanons?https://www.tumblr.com/stargirlie-sharon/732048389323309056/twcw-mentions-of-murder-and-yandere-ness-some

this has been in my drafts for way too long sorry 😭😭 also apologies but i don't do art requests, but you can have these headcanons! hope you like them. ^^

without further ado, let's get to it!

Yandere Rescue Team Headcanons

Fandom: Robocar Poli

Ft. Poli, Roy, Amber

Content: Headcanons, yandere themes, obsesssion, romantic, but can be read as platonic. Mentions of murder, murder cover-ups, violence, manipulation. Gender neutral darling (and it's not explicitly stated that it's the reader, so feel free to imagine them as whoever you want!)

A/N: Helly will be excluded from this (since he is a child/teen), and I'd prefer to not to write him here. I'd also like to point out that if you're not comfortable with reading something, then you don't need to read it! It's totally fine if a certain genre of something isn't your cup of tea! Dividers by dollywons, and RT headers by me.

Poli

Oh, how he adores his darling. They're simply the cutest thing to him!

He likes being around them, often standing by at a close distance, or watching his sweetheart from afar when they don't even realise it. He wants to make sure they're safe. As long as they're with him, no one will hurt them.

And if they try, they'll certainly regret it.

A guard dog at heart. Devoted to its owner to death, and will fight to keep them safe.

If he senses a threat that could put his darling at risk, he'll neutralize said threat with whatever method he can get his hands on. With a gun, blade, or if he's really feeling enraged (or just doesn't have anything left), he'll just use himself as weapon (and i'll let you interperet that for yourself). Regardless of how messy the scene is, he'll clean up the crime scene spotless, and to the best of his abilities. However...

If Poli happened to miss a spot, and someone reports to him that there's a blood stain somewhere or a lone weapon, he'd pretend to go investigate it, and then play it as a misunderstanding or prank by someone.

But honestly, he would rather let the world burn if it meant keeping his love in his arms forever.

He'd go out of his way to break the law for you, ignoring his job as an officer, just to see you aafe and happy. Even at the cost of someone's life.

Roy

He puts his love and their needs before himself. He would lay down his life for them, and is just so fiercely loyal when it comes to his dearest.

He knows that his obsession has gone over the roof, but he shows no sign of stopping it. It's unhealthy and he's aware of it, but he can't help himself.

Wants to show his love in whatever way he can. Expect sweet gestures or gifts from him often. At first, it would seem really nice of him, but as time goes on, it starts to seem like he's seeking for their validation and love at an obsessive level.

Roy's world revolves around his love. They are the center of his universe, and nothing else matters to him other than his sweetheart.

He is the least intense yandere compared to Poli and Amber, so you could say he leans on the soft yandere side, but he can be dangerous if the time really calls for it.

In contrast to his usually gentle nature, he can get very violent if his darling is hurt, and whoever messed with them will be damned.

Amber

Amber knows the most effective ways to eliminate someone. And cover up the murder. After all, nobody would expect the sweet Broomstown medic to be the one behind such incidents.

She may seem like the most sane and normal of the three... but no. She is nowhere close to it. She is outright insane for her darling. She just does a very good job at concealing her unhingedness.

She showers her sweetheart with as much affection they can handle. She cherishes every moment with them, and savors every smile. They're practically Amber's reason for living.

Also, they get hurt, not only will she treat their injuries, she's bound to kiss the pain away.

With her being a medic, she's probably had to deal with certain substances and poisons, so she knows her way around things like that. But not only does she know how to treat it, she also knows how to use it on others.

She'd try to stray from messy, more bloody ways of elimination, and aim for more cleaner tactics. Poison, toxins or drug-infused drinks or foods, anything that doesn't leave behind a trail of blood.

But if she really wanted to, she isn't afraid to get her hands a little dirty.

Amber being angry is scary enough. But her being mentally unstable too? Her insane side really shines through when mad. Also, she laughs. She laughs when she's absolutely livid, and you already know that's a bad sign.. (and I personally hc her to possibly be the most terrifying of the yanderes here. also i love insane medics)

i. am. SO SORRY this was literally here since last year holy cheese sticks. i was putting this in my drafts so when i got the spark of motivation to continue writing this came back i'd post this. and i have finally posted it, even though i could've already finished this months ago. thank you for reading. bye

[crimeronan]

having so many girl blorbos at once is like. i'm going to get a good grade in being really obsessed with shit that only 3 other people on earth care about enough to have established headcanons, something that's both normal to want and possible to achieve,

[noahhawthorneauthor]

Trying to market this monstrosity like:

[namisweatheria]

The way Zoro, who barely knows what's going on, sees Usopp struggling but determined to carry Dalton, and easily takes Dalton off his back and onto one shoulder.

Like. This is romantic...

[untilyouremember]

The Angel, the Devil, and Me

Available digitally

[moonstruckme]

the sleepy remus drabble was everything but what about sleepy james x reader just cuddling on the couch with remus and sirius teasing them omfgg

Thanks for requesting lovely! I realized halfway through writing this that I wasn't sure if you meant rem and sirius were there platonically or not, but I hope this is alright <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 870 words

Even when you hear the voices, you pretend you don’t, too comfortable on the plush cushion of James’ hoodie. Opening your eyes isn’t worth the effort. 

“Is this what they do when we’re not home?” Sirius’ voice is low and ripe with faux outrage.

James hushes him, so he’s awake apparently. His thumb moves over your tummy, big hand tucked into the warmth between your sweatshirt and your bare skin. “You’ll wake her,” he says, voice still sticky with sleep.

“She ought to be awake, it’s five in the afternoon!” 

Remus’ voice is softer, skeptical. “I don’t see how either of you expect to sleep through the night if you nap like this during the day.”

“We manage,” James yawns. 

You hear Sirius huff. If the muscles in your face were more active you think you’d smile. “I thought we were going to Marlene’s thing tonight,” he complains. 

“Still planning on it.” James’ palm splays over your middle, warm and safe. “We’re resting up.” 

“This is how you prepare for Friday nights now? Fuck, we must be getting old.” 

You whine at his volume, nuzzling your face into James’ chest. 

“Oh, so she is awake. What, sweet thing, you don’t feel like saying hi?” 

This time James coos at your protesting sound. His hand slips from beneath your sweatshirt to wrap around your shoulders, shielding you from your pestering boyfriend. 

“Oh, let’s have a bit of sympathy,” Remus says, sounding amused, “she’s had a long, hard day of napping. She deserves a bit of rest.” 

You want to remind him it’s your day off, but speaking feels like giving into wakefulness, and that is something you are not inclined to do. Instead, you try to wriggle beneath the blanket halfway up James’ torso, curling in on yourself like a roly poly. He helps you out, pulling it up to cover your head and draping an arm over your balled-up form. 

“It’s her day off,” he says, your hero. “Why shouldn’t she get to rest?” 

“That’s fair enough,” Remus allows, “but why were you sleeping?”

James hesitates. “Well, I didn’t have anything to do after training and she…she lured me in.” 

It’s true. James after rugby training is like Remus after he spends all day reading; he’s all worn out and pliable, and you’d practically only had to open your arms for him to fall right into them and then a cuddle on the couch had turned into a two-hour nap. Terribly unfortunate. Certainly not your plan all along. 

You decide it’s your turn to protect James from the others, wriggling up on his chest and covering his head with the blanket. You see his smile through half-lidded eyes, and outside of your little cave, Remus chuckles. 

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” 

“I think we should get in bed and have a cuddle they’re not invited to,” says Sirius. “See how they like it.” 

“I’m not sure we can leave them in good conscience.” The sound of Remus' smile makes you smile, your cheek smushing into James’ chest. “She’s just taken Jamie. If we let her go on like this, she’ll have them both sleeping ‘til tomorrow.” 

That actually sounds rather appealing. 

“They’re jealous of us,” James whispers. You hum your agreement, and he kisses the crown of your head. 

“We could go to all their favorite things,” Sirius proposes. “Make them remember the benefits of leaving the couch.” 

“Like what? Watch sports?” 

“And eat pastries. She loves a sweet.” 

“Mm, yeah. I could fancy a sweet.” 

“From the shop on sixth? They should still be open, yeah?” 

“Stay strong, angel,” James whispers. “Don’t let them break you.” 

“They ought to be. Oh, and the pub down that way will be showing the Manchester match tonight. We could stop and see that.” 

“Sick and twisted!” James throws the blanket off, uncovering you in the process. “You never watch football with me.” 

“I have,” Remus hedges, “that one time.” 

“Last year! And you were reading your book on the other side of the pillow!” 

He turns sheepish. “Didn’t realize you’d noticed that.” 

“But now you’re going to watch it just to spite me?” 

“No,” Sirius admits. “We were never going to watch football, Jamie, sorry.” James deflates, and you squeeze him tight around the middle in a show of solidarity. 

“But we can go by the bakery on our way to Marlene’s thing,” Remus says, adding when you perk up, “if we leave soon enough. They make those danishes you like on Fridays, don’t they?” 

“Seriously?” you ask, your voice croaky and hopeful. 

“That’s me, babe,” Sirius teases, “and I’m down to stop by, but only if I get what I’m owed.” At your blank look, he raises a dark brow. “My welcome home kiss?” 

Oh. “You’re gonna have to come down here,” you mumble. He makes a show of rolling his eyes, but obliges you, bending at the waist to take your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours firmly. He does the same to James once you’re done, straightening with a satisfied look on his face. 

“Appeased?” Remus asks placidly. 

“Yes,” Sirius answers, “the evening may now continue. Up, you two. We’ve got places to be.” 

[heaven4lostgirls]

can I request a poly!rosekiller where Barty and Evan are dating already and they slowly start to incorporate reader into their relationship and before they realize it they’re basically in love with her or smth 🎀

(also I love your writing oml)

pairing: poly!rosekiller x reader

summary: request above!

word count: 1.2K

a/n: i?? love?? you?? thank you for requesting! feeling very inspired abt rosekiller at the moment!

“You look like a dog without its owner Crouch” Regulus says as he enters the Slytherin common room and sits across from the aforementioned boy. “Piss off Black, don’t you have a Gryffindor to bother?” Barty snarks back as he slinks into his chair in what anyone else besides him would consider a pout.

“Missing your boyfriend?” Regulus pouts back mockingly before Barty bares his teeth at him. “No, actually. Y/N’s spending the day with Remus, reading some stupid novel” Barty counters with a huff. Regulus barks a laugh at the petulant expression on his friend’s face.

“We’ve been friends since we started Hogwarts and I’ve never seen you pout over anyone like that, other than Evan” Regulus says simply and Barty looks at him in mock outrage.

“I do not pout!” Barty states, “besides, I just miss her, I’m used to spending most of my time with her and Evan that I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do when they’re not around” Barty complains as he lays down on the couch in the common room.

“You’re in love with her” Regulus coughs out and Barty turns to look at him with a glare. “what??” Barty hisses and Regulus shrugs with a knowing smirk. “Talk to your boyfriend about it Crouch”

Barty huffs and with an indignant huff of, “maybe I will!” He stalks off to wherever the fuck Evan is.

After looping the school twice, Barty finds Evan smoking a cigarette in the courtyard, he walks over to him without so much as a hello before he’s pulling him into an empty classroom. “Hello to you love, if you wanted a quick shag you could’ve just told me” Evan smirks in greeting but is met with Barty’s scowl.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Evan coos in immediate worry, Barty’s only tell of his surprise is the slight widening of his eyes before he shakes his head. His expressions shifts to contemplation before he presses a quick kiss to Evan’s lips. “Regulus thinks I’m in love with Y/N” Barty states deadpan.

Evan’s eyes widen and his mouth drops open slightly, “what?!” He says, “…are you?” He asks skeptically and Barty is quick to shake his head.

“No!” Barty defends himself before he looks at Evan with a look of suspicion, “do you think I am?” He asks incredulously. “What? No!” Evan immediately denies but then looks slightly uneasy.

“I mean…we’re not exactly very platonic with her, are we?” Evan says with a slight wince. Barty quirks a brow and shakes his head, “but we’re like that with everyone, remember when I tried to kiss Reg on his cheek and he punched me in the face, but when I did it to Dora she was okay with it!” Barty says with fake cheer, almost forceful sounding.

“Yeah! sure!, I mean, of course we’re not in love with her, Regulus doesn’t know what he’s on about!” Evan says but hopes to himself that Barty doesn’t look closer into him to notice the slight twinge of falseness in his tone.

Barty nods in a decisive manner before a contemplative silence envelopes the two lovers, disrupted only by the sound of the school bell. “I’m gonna go check on Y/N, wanna come?” Barty quickly asks and they share a look of understanding, neither willing to admit what they’re feeling.

“Sure, haven’t seen her all day!” Evan says as his tummy swirls in a mixture of anticipation and what he hopes is excitement.

“Been studying with Remus” Barty says offhandedly, unbeknownst to Evan’s inner turmoil as an ugly feeling bubbles under his skin, one he’s only felt after finding out that Barty used to have feelings for Regulus.

Evan pushes it down, not letting himself think too much about it in fear of it confirming something he’s not ready to vocalize.

As they reach the Gryffindor common room, Barty mutters the password in slight impatience before he walks briskly to the couches where you and Remus seem to reside.

Sitting close enough for your arms and legs to be touching, Evan’s eye twitches at the sight, Barty scoops you up within immediate notice and places you in his lap on the other couch. Much to your chagrin and Remus’ amusement.

“Rosier, Crouch” Remus says in greeting with a small smirk and a knowing glance as Barty’s hands splayed over your midsection to keep you from moving.

“Lupin” Evan and Barty growl in distaste. “Barty, let. me. go.” You growl as you struggle in his hold, “stop struggling angel, I missed you” Barty huffs as he places his face in the crook of your neck, placing a soft kiss in the area.

Remus only meets Evan’s gaze with a quirked eyebrow before Evan huffs and moves to sit on the other side of the couch next to Barty, pulling your legs into his lap as he strokes your leg in soft touches, letting you readjust your position in Barty’s lap.

Your leg muscles tense before relaxing as you meet Evan’s calm gaze. “Hi” you murmur, abashedly at the attention from both boys. “Hi angel” Evan murmurs back in a tone laced with affection. His eyes not leaving yours as he allows his mouth to curve into a rare, gentle smile.

Your eyes widen as you look at him as your face heats, “good day?” You cough out, embarrassed by your lack of composure. “Dull, getting better though” he says as his pupils expand as he continues to watch you, lovesick.

Barty only hums, “what did Evan do to get such a sweet greeting?” Barty pouts and you can’t help but smile, which seemingly quells any qualms Barty had concerning whatever argument he was about to hold with you.

“Hello Junior” you coo affectionately, his eyes widen significantly before a wide grin blooms across his face. He looks more boyish in comparison to the unhinged and emotionless Slytherin the rest of Hogwarts knows.

You’re unaware of Remus bidding you all goodbye as he makes his way back to his dorm, too enraptured by the gazes of the two boys in front of you.

“Angel” Barty says with a grin as he looks all over your face with adoration, lifting a hand from your waist to push a lock of your hair behind your ear.

You laugh before looking towards the other couch, only now noticing the departure of your dear friend. “Oh no! I was supposed to help Remus with his herbology notes!” You say with a gasp.

“Leave it.” Barty murmurs and he pulls you back into him, your form melting at the familiar sense of his hands on your waist. “Meet with him tomorrow” Evan supplies helpfully and you smile back in thanks with a nod.

You snuggle deeper into the chest of Barty as you pull Evan to lie further on top of you. “Tired?” Barty hums again as he places his hand into your hair, softly playing with it an subsequently lulling you to sleep.

You only half-assedly hum and close your eyes as you turn to let Evan lay his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder and your place your lips in his hair, kissing it softly.

Unbeknownst to you, the position allows both Evan and Barty to make eye contact, something they had both been eagerly avoiding in fear of what the other might find in their gaze.

We are so fucked Barty mouths to Evan, who only smiles wider and shrugs nonchalantly.

Who cares is his only reply.

[yanderenightmare]

2023 collection part two

July

BNHA—Yandere captor Deku and all his selfish imposing ways:

♡ SELFISH

BNHA—Shigaraki finds his soulmate:

♡ FATE CAN BE A BTICH

JJK—Naoya x cureless maid reader:

♡ PROPOSAL GIFT

BNHA—Alpha Bakugou mating his terrified Omega reader:

♡ Five Steps for Alphas Mating Omegas

BNHA—Poly wolf-boys Bakugo and Deku with a bunny reader in heat:

♡ HEATED

HQ!!—Bully Tsukishima helps you study:

♡ DINKERBELL

JJK—Mahito discovers his carnal urges:

♡ PLAYTHING

JJK—How scary is yandere captor Gojo:

♡ SCARY

JJK—How strict husband Naoya is with his little wife:

♡ LUCKY BRIDE

JJK—Sukuna making terrified reader sit in his lap:

♡ SCARY-HOT

JJK—Sukuna tells you his real name:

♡ FORGIVEN

August

JJK—Cult leader Geto takes advantage of one of his devotees:

♡ MONKEY

JJK—Geto likes seeing you cry:

♡ DACROPHILIA

September

JJK—Toji was paid to kill you but decided to take you instead:

♡ BARGAIN SALE

JJK—Toji fucking his captive darling:

♡ smutty drabble

BNHA—Yandere Shigaraki roofying his cheerleader crush at a party:

♡ CHEERS

JJK—Cockwarming Mahito while he reads you horror stories:

♡ SCAREDY-CAT

BNHA—Deku terrorizes his ex-girlfriend:

♡ GREEN PAISLEY

BNHA—Parole officer Bakugou accepts your bribe:

♡ OUR LITTLE SECRET

BNHA—Jock bully Bakugou fucks nerdy reader:

♡ SECRET OBSESSION

BNHA—Bakugou likes his hopeless classmate:

♡ COOKING CLUB

JJK—Yandere Yuta x kidnapped reader:

♡ SAFE

BNHA—Shigaraki is all about the tits:

♡ TITTIES

JJK—Gojo and Geto x assistant supervisor:

♡ SUIT

Misogynist boyfriend keeps you captive:

♡ A SHITTY MOVIE

October

JJK—Sukuna with his beloved before he became a demon:

♡ SPIDERLILLY

BNHA—Douche fuckboy Deku and his biggest fan:

♡ FANGIRL'S DREAM

JJK—Geto x curse darling:

♡ PAYMENT

JJK—Gojo x curse darling:

♡ MEETING ♡ LIVING TOGETHER ♡ ANGST

BNHA—Shigaraki reacts to his darling developing Stockholm Syndrome:

♡ KISSES

BNHA—Overworked and touch-starved Prohero Bakugou x girlfriend reader:

♡ ONE MORE TIME?

JJK—Mahito can't transfigure you:

♡ PURE

JJK—Megumi surprisingly has game:

♡ SHAMELESS

JJK men x curse darling:

♡ CURSE DARLINGS

BNHA—Wolfboy Shigaraki buys bunny reader from a sex trafficker:

♡ DEAL

JJK—Sadist Gojo with curse darling:

♡ WEAKNESS

JJK—Mahito goes from platonic yandere to romantic yandere:

♡ PET 

Thirsty thoughts on big yanderes x tiny darlings:

♡ FUN-SIZED

JJK—Nanami comes home tattered and bloody from a job:

♡ GONE

JJK—Megumi when he’s older and looks more like Toji:

♡ THE APPLE DOESN'T FALL FAR

BNHA—Orc Enji x elf reader:

♡ ORC x ELVEN PRINCESS ♡ ORC x ELF

November

Thirsty thoughts on big yanderes x tiny darlings:

♡ GENTLE GIANT

BNHA—Fuckfriend Bakugou turns yandere:

♡ BORING

BNHA—Yandere captor Bakugou wants captive darling to be willing:

♡ WILLINGLY OR NOT

JJK—Bully Gojo teaching his little victim a lesson about who she belongs to:

♡ BULLY GOJO

JJK—Bully Gojo & Geto drugging crush:

♡ ODD…

BNHA—Reader develops Stockholm Syndrome for Dabi:

♡ PERFECT

BNHA—Incel Bakugou kidnaps reader to be his sex-puppet:

♡ TOUCH

JJK—Poly Gojo and Geto sharing captive darling headcanons:

♡ HOUSEWIFE

BNHA—Prohero Bakugou going yandere for childhood friend and coworker:

♡ EMPTY SHELLS

BNHA—Hermit forest-dweller Bakugou takes lost hiker reader captive:

♡ HERMIT

JJK—Bully boyfriend Gojo roleplay and fluff:

♡ NEVER

JJK—Gojo being a pervy wierdo with strange taste:

♡ WIERDO

JJK—Smug teasing boyfriend Gojo:

♡ PLAY

JJK—You didn't pay Toji's fee, so now he's coming to collect:

♡ BOUNTY

BNHA—Gross Shigaraki makes you wash him:

♡ SHOWER

Step-bro creeps on you:

♡ CREEP STEP-BRO

BNHA—Yandere sadist Shigaraki is really into BDSM:

♡ PET

BNHA—Shigaraki drugs and fucks Dabi's pretty girlfriend:

♡ GOODIE TWO SHOES

JJK—Sex therapist Nanami being pervy with his patient:

♡ SEX THERAPY ♡ SEQUAL kinda

Orc master loves making a cum-slut out of his pretty elf slave:

♡ ORC x ELF ♡ ORC x ELF

Punished for trying to run away from your yandere captor:

♡ PUNISHED

JJK—Ex-boyfriend Sukuna fucks you at a party:

♡ EX

BNHA—Poly Proheroes Bakugo and Deku blackmails criminal reader:

♡ STREET SCUM

JJK—The Itadoris all living together in a run-down house:

♡ SHAMELESS

BNHA—Dabi has new cock-piercings he wants to try out:

♡ ARMED AND READY

December

BNHA—Soldier Hawks & Dabi knock on your door and expect to be fed:

♡ THE QUARTERING ACT

JJK—Mahito is like a nosy roommate:

♡ PRACTICE

JJK—Arranged marriage with Geto, but he shares you with Gojo:

♡ ARRANGED MARRIAGE

Yandere kidnapper softly nonconning darling:

♡ SOFT NONCON

BNHA—Incel Shigaraki crushes on the pretty store clerk at the comic/game shop:

♡ CUSTOMER SERVICE

Colleague crushing on reader in office au:

♡ CUT TO THE CHASE

JJK—Sorceror reader teasing imprisoned Sukuna:

♡ INSUFFERABLE

JJK—Alpha Gojo teasing Omega reader:

♡ SCARED?

Strict yandere captor hates when you curse:

♡ FILTHY

BNHA—Shiggy and Dabi share a darling:

♡ PULLED LEFT AND RIGHT

BNHA—Shigaraki is the worst BNHA yandere:

♡ FILTHY

Yandere kidnapper takes your virginty:

♡ VIRGINITY

JJK—Sukuna gatekeeps you:

♡ CHASTITY BELT

BNHA—Alpha Bakugou figures out why he bullies Omega reader:

♡ LESSON ♡ HEAT

JJK—Gojo is too late to make you his:

♡ SOMEONE ELSE

JJK—Yandere Gojo fighting your man for your hand:

♡ DUEL

Your strict teacher fucks your throat raw in detention:

♡ DETENTION

♡ 2023 COLLECTION PART ONE ♡ ALL MASTERLISTS

[always-just-red]

Merry Christmas, guys!!! Ok, so this is a day early, but I wanted to say thanks to you all with a feel-good follow-up to my Game Night fic! So, here: a Christmas Eve sleepover with the boys, and they’re on their VERY best behaviour this time, I promise 😌

The Night Before Christmas

L&DS Boys X Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: It’s time to get the gang back together!!!

Genre: Fluff + humour

Warnings/Additional Tags: gn!reader, kinda poly? but mostly platonic, a lil bit of wholesome intimacy, one particularly suggestive joke from Sylus (he can’t help himself), also probably needs another proofread but my eyes are tired 💀

| Word count: 4.8k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Right! Let’s try this again.”

You glance around your living room with your hands on your hips, channelling your inner Captain Jenna as you fight to suppress flashbacks that verge on traumatic.

Some of this is exactly the same as last time. Sylus is sprawled in the same spot on your couch, looking inordinately pleased with himself for someone who has only just arrived. The very image of smugness; you immediately suspect that something is horribly wrong, or on track to go horribly wrong. You glance to the other couch, where Xavier and Rafayel sit, equally braced for your presentation. Neither one has been teleported to the roof of your building.

Sylus is reading your relief, and he gives you an exclusive smile, as if to say: yet.

Try not to think about it.

You stand by a large drawing pad— currently flipped closed to create a suspense that only Xavier has bought into. He gives you an eager nod, the blue of his eyes warm and encouraging.

The faces around you haven’t changed, but your little apartment has. Strings of twinkling lights run around your walls, casting faint, festive glows. There’s frost on your windows. Littered everywhere are ornaments: small, glittery birds and wintery creatures. Lots of snowman plushies, courtesy of a few, dedicated arcade expeditions with your favourite doctor.

New season, new start.

“We all remember how this went last time,” you push on finally. “Mistakes were made. Shit happened. Whatever— we’re not gonna dwell on it.”

Sylus lifts his hand. “I, for one, would enjoy a reminder of said mistakes.”

“Motion denied,” you dismiss with a grin and a customer-service enthusiasm that screams: don’t fuck with me right now. Sylus’s eyes sparkle, like embers anxious to become something brighter— more destructive. Don’t think about it. “It wasn’t my fault. You outnumbered me four-to-one that night, which is why my first order of business today is to appoint a co-host.”

Rafayel’s hand shoots into the air. You look at him incredulously. Zayne is stood beside you, his arms folded, and everyone else in the room has connected those particular dots.

“It’s Zayne, Rafayel,” you sigh. 

“What?!” He sits up straighter. “Why him?! What are his qualifications, huh? His credentials?”

“I’ve never set the kitchen on fire,” Zayne says.

The artist scoffs, adds under his breath: “Turned it into an ice rink, though.”

There’s a chuckle from Sylus, and a part of you feels bad, pitting Zayne against the others like this. But he’s not alone. He has you, just you, so you should probably do something. “That actually brings me really nicely to my next point, Raf, thank you.”

Unexpected praise. Rafayel stutters, a faint blush to his cheeks, and you take full advantage of having staggered him. “Zayne, do you wanna…?”

“Of course.” The dark-haired man adjusts his glasses, then addresses the rest of the room. “In the interest of everyone’s safety, we have devised a few rules to be adhered to for the rest of the evening. These will be enforced by a point system, which we will record… here.”

He flips the drawing pad open, and a blank table fills the top half of the page. Each quarter has been assigned a name. “Basically—” you gesture to it— “three strikes and you’re out.”

None of your guests look perturbed by this.

“The first rule is simple,” Zayne explains, pulling away a strip of paper from the bottom of the page, then reading the writing underneath: “No unauthorised use of Evols.”

Rafayel’s hand shoots up again. You tilt your head at it. “Yes, Raf?”

“Ok, so what if there’s a power-cut or something? Lights are out. Heating’s out. Big disaster, yeah? You’re saying I couldn’t—?” He clicks his fingers, spawning a small flame.

“We would use my Evol,” Xavier says with the gentle authority he uses to steer civilians away from a Wanderer incursion. “It’s safer.”

The flame is snuffed out. Rafayel huffs: “Don’t you use it to, like, kill things?”

“Yeah…” Xavier shrugs. “Bad things.”

“Second rule!” you chime.  

“Second rule,” Zayne echoes, peeling back the next strip of paper. There’s absolutely no showmanship, nor energy at all as he continues, “No unauthorised sarcasm.”

Another hand raises. “What would be authorised sarcasm?” Xavier asks, squinting as though he can’t quite figure it out on his own.

You purse your lips in thought. “If it makes me laugh?”

Rafayel is stroking his chin, his eyes narrowed, because he’s also thinking. “High risk, high reward,” he muses, and you shoot him a smile.

This is going better than you thought it would, actually. If you were to turn a few more pages of the drawing pad, you would see crude illustrations of the worst-case scenarios you’d sketched out for Zayne earlier. There’s one where Rafayel is trying to strangle Sylus with Christmas lights. There’s another where Zayne has turned you all into snowmen.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, though. The evening is young, and the snowman scenario is still very much on the table.

Culprit of about ninety percent of your nightmarish visions and drawings— Sylus has been unnervingly silent. You meet eyes with him, an inherent mistrust in your gaze. The success of this sweet, humble Christmas Eve hinges on you figuring out what he’s here for. His agenda. His ulterior motives.

What does he want from tonight? He smirks at you. You’re vaguely competent, and you can figure it out without him holding your hand, can’t you?

That reminds you of something. “Zayne.” You jostle your co-host by his arm. “Do the last rule!”

You’re excited about the last rule.

Zayne isn’t; he hesitates. “The last rule…” He rubs at the back of his neck. “It’s… it’s only applicable to you, Sylus.”

Sylus is now also excited about the last rule. You can tell from the way his lips part, for a second, like he wants to tell you just how flattered he is you spend so much of your time thinking about him.

You put Zayne out of his misery, tearing the final strip of paper away from the pad. The paper flutters to the ground like a very plain snowflake, and you wiggle your fingers, adorning the final rule with a touch of pizazz:

No smirking, sass, or general smugness.

A corner of Sylus’s mouth lifts. “Believe it or not, kitten, your little point system doesn’t scare me.”

You pick up the pen and score a mark under his name.

“Oh no,” he mutters lifelessly.

“Sarcasm!” Rafayel coughs.

You’re well ahead of him, already turning to make another mark. “Gods,” you hear Sylus grimace, not much more than a whisper, “you’re such a boy scout.”

There’s a snort from Rafayel. “Sorry, say that again? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of you totally getting kicked out of here.”

“Sarcasm,” Sylus says.

“Wait, I didn’t mean— no!”

You giggle as you issue Rafayel’s first strike, and he groans behind you, slumping down in his seat. When you turn back around, his face is buried in his hands.

Sylus is smirking again, but the expression drops the moment he senses your gaze. You both know what’s at stake here. Back in the N109 Zone, Luke and Kieran are lamenting the fact that you’ve stolen their leader— it’s not very Christmassy of you, after all. There were a lot of things they wanted to do with him. Snowball fights, presents, and a heist that required disguises: Santa and his two, hard-working elves. They already have the suit, custom-made for him.

So here is the big, bad boss of Onychinus, hiding in your apartment, and definitely not smirking.

You pop the lid back onto your pen, then post it into your pocket like you’re holstering an all-powerful weapon. That’s one point to you and Zayne, and zero points to Sylus, thank you very much.

…

“What are you doing?”

Sylus sighs, evading a furious lilac gaze while he focuses on the task at hand. Freshly escaped from you and the doctor’s terrifying lecture, he’s making the most of his liberty.

“What I am doing,” he mumbles, tying string around a sprig of mistletoe, “is between me and our charming host. Run along, little artist.” He tightens the knot. “This doesn’t concern you.”

Rafayel crosses his arms, his eyes dark. “You’re cheating.”

“Ha.” Sylus spares him a glance out of pity. “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

He definitely is, but Sylus doesn’t have time for this game. He can hear you in your bedroom, rooting around for the phone charger you’d vanished in search of. Your door isn’t closed, but it’s closed enough. You can’t see him. He can’t see you. What a perfect opportunity.

“Give it to me,” Rafayel says— an interruption that warrants a roll of the eyes.

“No.”

“Give it—“ the artist starts again, then makes a grab for the mistletoe. Now that’s jealousy. He could incinerate the plant with a click of his fingers, but no, he wants it. Covets it.

Sylus chuckles quietly, his arm stretching up: holding the mistletoe out of an ever-more desperate reach.

To Rafayel’s credit, he persists. He goes up on his toes, tugging at the older man’s sleeve to try and drag the mistletoe closer. The plant evaporates in a swirl of dark energy the second he succeeds. It materialises behind Sylus’s back, in his other hand, and Rafayel realises instantly. He tries to stretch his arms around him. To take it from him.

“Absolutely not!”

Sylus’s fingers are suddenly empty. Mistletoe-less. He turns reluctantly, still holding Rafayel back.

You stand at your wide-open door, one hand on your hips and the other clutching his confiscated item. You’re frowning. Tapping your foot. Your lips are pursed adorably.

“What a coincidence, kitten,” Sylus smiles, and behind him, Rafayel pokes his tongue out, overcome with nausea. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Clearly.” You jostle the mistletoe, looking… disappointed? Huh. “Never thought I’d catch you indulging an old cliche.”

Sylus shrugs charmingly, like a cat performing a leisurely stretch after toppling a vase from a very high shelf.

“Give me the rest of it,” you command.

“Hmm?”

“The back-up mistletoe, Sy. I’m not an idiot.”

Sylus scoffs, but you do have him wrapped oh so prettily around your finger. He rolls his neck, stalling. If giving up were a slope, he would already be a heap at the bottom of it, but he doesn’t really mind. Three more sprigs of mistletoe appear from thin air, dropping into your open hands.

“Honestly, Sylus,” you groan, stepping past him. Then you thrust the plants to the artist’s chest. “Burn these, Raf.” You’re dusting your hands down as you walk away.

Sylus frowns. That’s neither ideal nor part of the plan.

Rafayel is looking at him, telling him with gloating silence that there’s no playing diplomat, here— no negotiating the return of the hostages. That bridge has been— rather fittingly— burned. The mistletoe turns slowly to ash: darkened by licks of flame that curl with the eager spite of their master’s lips.

It would be beautiful if it wasn’t so damned inconvenient. When the fire’s had its fun, one sprig of mistletoe remains, rich green and ivory— wholly untouched. You’re across the room, talking to Zayne, so Rafayel smirks in triumph. Tucks his prize into his pocket.

Sylus’s heart sinks with it, but he still smiles back.

…

Rafayel isn’t looking too good.

Well, the Rafayel is looking fine, but your Rafayel? Not so much. You steal a glance at the artist across the cluttered kitchen island; he’s sat, leaning, propped up on his elbows, his eyes glazed— he’s clearly away with the fishies. He catches you staring. Gives you a wink.

You glance down at the gingerbread man you’ve been decorating: the blue-pink of his iced eyes, and the mess of purple hair, at least three shades too dark. Oh, gods— probably a million shades too dark through the gaze of a Lemurian. At least the outfit is cute? You’ve recreated Rafayel’s signature cardigan. The plaid pattern isn’t quite straight, but that was a… deliberate choice. This is your interpretation of his cardigan, and you wanted it to reflect its owner. A little all over the place, but still, you love it. Even when it’s coming undone, it keeps you warm.

“Would you like to go next?”

Zayne is talking to you, smiling at you. He was the first to reveal his gingerbread creation: a miniature Xavier that was surprisingly true to life. Your hunting partner had almost glowed with delight, while you were dark with jealousy. The biscuit sits before you all, boasting details that could only be achieved with an exceedingly steady hand.

Worse: Rafayel’s gingerbread is next to it, stupidly, predictably perfect. It’s Zayne. It’s really Zayne, from the sweep of black hair to the hazel eyes; how on earth did he manage to make that colour? The tiny doctor is dressed in his lab coat, sporting his badge and a pocketful of even tinier pens and medical instruments. There’s… shading? Ugh, you can see the creases in the fabric.

“Umm… sure, I can go next,” you mumble.

It was just your luck, pulling Rafayel’s name out of that hat. Sheepishly, you move aside the cookbook you’d stood to guard your project from any prying eyes. Your gingerbread is nudged forwards.

“That’s me!” Rafayel exclaims.

“Yeah…” you confirm half-heartedly. “Sorry, I know it’s not great, but I—”

Lack the skill of a celebrity artist, or the steady hands of a cardiac surgeon? You have no idea which exact pool of self-pity your sentence was set on drowning within, but it doesn’t matter. Rafayel has plucked your gingerbread up for a closer look, and his smile is enormous. “This is amazing!”

“You don’t have to—”

“That’s my cardigan!” He’s crashing the pity party again. “And look at my eyes— the colours! This little guy is so handsome, yeah? You really did me justice, cutie. Look at him!”

He holds the gingerbread up to his face, trying to match its two-dimensional grin. He looks around for affirmation, and it’s just his luck, because is a single man at this table ever going to insult your hard work?

“The eyes are amazing,” Xavier enthuses. “Like the sky at sunset. Who knew my partner was so talented?”

“I did,” Rafayel chirps happily.

Xavier frowns. “No, it was rhetori— never mind.” He smiles at you. Rolls with it. “I knew too, by the way.”

“As did I,” Zayne adds.

Everyone looks at Sylus, who shrugs a shoulder and says, “It was up for debate.”

“Can we please move onto the next person?” you press. This is all too much attention. “Sylus, can you… please?”

He does like it when you beg, but he likes it even more when he can play knight in shining armour. “My pleasure, sweetie.”

For a man whose creative side is mostly indulged by vintage gun restorations, he reveals his gingerbread with a staggering amount of confidence. It’s placed at the centre of the kitchen island, where you all stare down at it. Its hair is snow-white, and its eyes: blood-red.

“That’s…” Zayne begins.

“That’s you, Sylus!” you take-over, voice shrill with betrayal. “You were supposed to say something if you picked yourself! And you— wait, what are…?” There are distinct lines over the gingerbread’s midriff. It dawns on you: “Are those abs?!”

Sylus shrugs again.

“They so are!” You snatch up the biscuit, standing to wave it in Sylus’s face like a crime-scene photo. “Where’s his shirt, huh?”

“He lost it.”

“Bullshit!” you snap. This gingerbread competition had come with its own set of rules, one of which was very clearly: “Nothing obscene! I said nothing obscene, Sylus!”  

He leans away from you with a tut. “It’s tasteful, sweetie. The artist will tell you.”

“The artist is staying out of this,” Rafayel murmurs, off to your side.

Sylus crosses his arms, regardless, as though his case has been made. You cross your arms too.

“Can I show you my gingerbread now?” Xavier asks, and his tone is deceivingly soft: a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back.

You release the tension in your body with a sigh, then set the gingerbread down so you can’t throw it at Sylus’s un-smug face (which he’s been very careful about.) “Of course, Xavier,” you smile, slinking back onto your stool. You can throw something at Sylus later. “Ooh, is it me? It has to be me, right?”

Xavier chuckles awkwardly. “It’s you. I don’t think it’s very good, though.”

“Show me!” you insist.

The final cookbook is removed, and Xavier unveils his hard work. You clamp a hand to your mouth.

You don’t have a single word for what you’re looking at— only laughter, and you can’t let yourself laugh, no matter what. If that gingerbread is you? Then it’s a you who’s been torn apart by Wanderers, at least seven consecutive times. Your face is a swirl of colours and features— you think Xavier must have tried to wipe it off to start again, more than once, but it hasn’t worked.

The gingerbread has been broken, too. Three of the four limbs, to be exact, and that you could forgive, but… did he have to use dark red icing to glue them back on? It drips out of the joins messily, almost making you wince.

Everyone is silent.

“A perfect likeness,” says Sylus.

You burst out laughing, and the moment you do, Rafayel’s right there with you. Even Sylus caves— it’s one of the most sincere laughs you’ve ever heard from him. There are tears in your eyes; you can’t help it. Zayne is the strongest of you, but even the tight line of his mouth quivers. He’s biting his lip.

But it’s fine. Xavier is laughing, too. “I said it wasn’t very good!”

“Xavier!” you wheeze. You can’t even look at him. Your stomach hurts. “What… what happened to me?!”

“What do you mean?” he practically giggles.

“What do I mean?” you repeat, and it tips you into another breathless bout of laughter. You go to point at the gingerbread— all the explanation you need— but it almost kills you. You really can’t breathe. After half a minute, you try again. “I look like I’ve been in an accident!”

“Here,” Rafayel grins, and he slides the Doctor Zayne gingerbread over to poor, suffering gingerbread you.

“Aww!” you smile, having finally caught your breath.

Wordlessly, Zayne retrieves his likeness— pulling it away from yours. You frown at him, as confused and wounded as Xavier apparently imagines you. “Even I have my limits,” the doctor shrugs.

That’s it. You’re gone again, your sides aching as your whole body shakes with laughter. It’s too much. Gods, it’s too much. You’re gonna need another minute.

…

“I can’t believe you made you.”

It’s been fifteen or so minutes, and you toy with Sylus’s gingerbread counterpart, pinching his hands between your thumbs and forefingers— making him walk (well, penguin waddle) across the kitchen island.

“Believe it, sweetie,” Sylus huffs with a smile.

“Is this really how you see yourself?”

Before you can walk the gingerbread any further, his creator plucks him up by his head, away from your reaching fingers. “It’s how I think you should see me,” he chuckles. He holds the gingerbread out to you. Wiggles it. “For your eyes only, kitten.”

“Except the other guys saw it—”

“Shhhh, shh shh!” In his haste to silence you, he almost pushes the gingerbread to your lips.

You glare at him. Complain from behind it: “Get your shirtless abs out of my face, Sylus.”

“Make me.”

You snatch the gingerbread, pinning it down on the counter. “Keep pushing your luck, Sy. Wanna see what’ll happen?”

He absolutely does, and his eyes glint with mirth as you reach for a near-empty bowl of crimson icing. You scrape some of it up with a discarded teaspoon, then let it drip generously over his gingerbread. It takes a few, long seconds to really cover him in it. To make him look as fatally tragic as gingerbread you.

“Here,” you say, dropping the spoon in a bowl with a satisfied clink. You hold out the gingerbread. “This’ll be you when I’m done with you.”

Sylus regards it for a moment, his eyebrow quirked. Then his eyes find your gingerbread likeness. “Want to see what you’ll look like when I’m done with you?”

His hand goes out for the bowl of red icing, except… it goes past the bowl of red icing, and lands on a tube of white icing instead. He holds it up with a smile.

“Inappropriate.”

The tube is swept out of his fingers, and he blinks at the empty space, legitimately surprised.

“It was snow, doctor,” he remarks bitterly, once he’s recovered from the second ambush of the evening. He glances over his shoulder. “From a snowball fight?”

“Sure it was,” Zayne mutters, already turning back to the bowl he’s washing in the sink.

Sylus is frowning, affronted, but the expression softens when you’re filling his gaze again. You: your hands on your mouth, so close to spilling laughter. “Oooooh,” you tease with a secretive sing-song voice, “you got in trouble!”

He wrinkles his nose like ‘trouble’ is an insult. It sets you off sniggering uncontrollably.

“What did I miss?”

It’s Xavier, back from the lounge.

“Nothing,” Sylus answers.

“He got in trouble!” you counteract with a not-at-all quiet whisper.  

You earn a glare from the criminal, and a little laugh from the hunter. “Third-strike trouble?” the latter enquires. He might have handcuffs on stand-by; it wouldn’t surprise you.

“Not yet,” you grin cheerfully.  

Zayne sets a plate on the drying rack. “Give it time.”

…

“I don’t think we have enough, sweetie,” Sylus quips, peeking over the stack of blankets you’ve piled high on his arms. 

What was it Rafayel said? High risk, high reward? You mercifully chuckle. Your arms are wrapped around three, plush cushions— the last of your sleepover supplies. Snacks? Are ready. Guests? Haven’t killed each-other yet. You toe open your bedroom door, shouldering the rest of the way through with your missing puzzle pieces of luxury.

“Oh, nice!” someone exclaims from the kitchen. Xavier is watching you, starry-eyed, and his cheeks are full; he’s midway through a cookie.

Sylus steps through the door behind you, issuing a faint noise of disgust. He sounds like he’s being attacked by a bug, so you turn around, ready to leap to the rescue. He’s stood within the door frame, eyes cast upwards to where a sprig of mistletoe hangs on the end of a string. It’s swaying gently; he must have caught his head on it. You frown, lips parted. He was with you the whole time you were looting your bedroom. When did he…? How did he…?

He looks down at you, the mistletoe still hovering above him. You raise an eyebrow, waiting for the inevitable joke, or the even more inevitable invitation. 

“I…’ he starts gingerly, “I didn’t…” 

Oh. He’s just as confused as you are, and it’s… really cute. He’s lost for words— the man who came here with not one, but four sprigs of mistletoe. The man who threatened your gingerbread with white icing. The man who’s spent the entire evening thinking about how he wants to be close to you.

Sylus laughs, but it’s full of nervousness. “It’s alright,” he says, “you don’t have to—”

You tilt him towards you, your hand on his shoulder and cushions around your feet. “Merry Christmas, Sy,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It’s warm on your lips.

His eyes flutter closed. “Merry Christmas,” he breathes, barely more than a whisper. 

You hum contentedly as you pull away from him. When his eyes reopen, they’re warm with a nostalgia you cannot explain, but you can feel, too— so inexplicably. His gaze is blood-red, but it makes you think of flowers. 

What a funny feeling. It strikes you a lot, nowadays, and not just with the man in front of you. 

Speaking of the others, you glance towards your lounge. Xavier is telling Zayne a story, and Rafayel is watching you from over the back of the sofa— turning away when you spot him. That’s one mystery solved. You collect the cushions from the floor, sparing Sylus a smile before you meander back to your party. The coffee table’s a banquet of sweet, sugary snacks, so you carefully skirt past it.

Xavier’s hands grab at air. You laugh and toss him a cushion. “Thanks,” he grins. 

“Here— your favourite.” Zayne is pointing at your freshly-filled mug, and you grin your own thank you as you settle down next to him. 

Sylus soon arrives too, handing out blankets, and for all the evening’s animosity, he gets a grateful smile for each. He sits down next to Xavier, and it’s odd, you know? You’ve slain Wanderers, saved lives with every person around you. You’ve seen them bleed and kill.

They’re all wrapping themselves up, like snuggly little Christmas presents. Xavier’s managed to collect another cushion— from Zayne, maybe?— and he’s practically building a fort on his side of the couch. Some of it infringes on Sylus’s space, and you notice him notice, but he doesn’t say a word. Oblivious, tucked under two blankets, Xavier’s already looking sleepy. 

Someone’s making less of an effort to get comfortable. On the other side of you, Rafayel sits, uncharacteristically quiet. He hasn’t met your eyes since you sat down. You remember him, watching you under the mistletoe from across the room, and the thought has you leaning in closer. 

“That was sweet of you,” you whisper, even though he disobeyed you. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shrugs.

But he does, so you kiss his cheek, ever so fondly, with that funny feeling in your chest again. It’s the first time, but it doesn’t strike you as such. Uncharted waters, a foreign land— when have I been here before?

Rafayel has relaxed: sunken deep into the sofa and the security of your touch. You smile, pulling his blanket up higher around him— tighter around him— until he’s as much of a cocoon as everyone else. His lips curve with a smile of surrender, ever-willingly captured. Silly fish. 

You draw away from him, readjusting in your seat until you’re cuddled up next to Zayne. You don’t see the wink Rafayel shoots Sylus, or the look of begrudging respect in the latter’s red eyes. 

“Are you comfortable?” Zayne asks, head angling towards yours. 

Co-host to co-host. “Yeah.” You snuggle closer to him. “This is kinda perfect, isn’t it?” He feels cold, despite his Sylus-issued blanket, so you lend him part of yours.

“No,” he confers softly, distractedly. 

“No?”

“No.” He gives you a look, and you know it as intimately as the chill of his hands and the warmth of his heart. His ‘I know something that you don’t’ look. Sure enough, he says: “I think it’s missing something.” 

On the other sofa, Xavier is beaming at you, having caught onto your conversation. It’s suspicious— harmless conspiracy, surprise-party sort of suspicious, but your pulse still picks up. 

“Close your eyes,” Zayne instructs. 

And you do, without question. Darkness, yes, but you’re under his care, aren’t you? There’s no anxiousness in your excitement, just trust for the man who was looking out for you long before he was your doctor. Your hands are over your eyes and you’re younger, again, playing hide-and-seek, again.

Zayne’s is a familiarity you can place. A nostalgia built on memories, not reveries.

Something icy touches your hand, then melts without any resistance. 

“Open,” Zayne prompts, leaning against you to stir you. 

Your apartment has changed again. The lights are all out, save for the fairy lights. The spectrum of colours flicker from the walls and the tree, catching on tiny, white specs in the air. Snowflakes are drifting down, impossibly. Falling, dancing— maybe a bit of both. You look up and some land on your face, cold with their kisses. You giggle in delight. 

Everyone’s gaze is on the ceiling: sapphire, emerald, amethyst, ruby. It ought to be dark. Instead, an entire night sky fills the space above you, scattered with thousands of stars. Every pinprick is deliberate. Meticulously placed. There are constellations— infinite patterns that transcend every life you might’ve lead, and every life you’ll ever lead (if you believe in that sort of thing.)

Xavier glances at you, and you forgo the spell of his masterpiece so that you can glance back. Snowflakes are in his hair, dusting him with sparkles. He smiles in a way you think could defy lifetimes, too. 

“This is… really something,” Sylus says, and there’s not a hint of sarcasm. 

It’s everything. The stars, brighter for darkness. The snow, only novel in warmth. These things don’t always work— they’ll undo each-other, overpower each-other, but there’s an ultimate balance, in-between every conflict. An occasional harmony, and it’s… 

Perfect. 

Rafayel scoots close to you. “Was this authorised?” he whispers. 

You look over to the point board, where there are first strikes beneath Zayne and Xavier’s names, and you don’t know how long they’ve been there. 

“No,” you laugh tenderly. “No, it wasn’t.”

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Hi!

I’d love a part two to your hit me hard and soft fanfic. Maybe Y/N continues to avoid them as a romantic relationship but begins to accept a platonic one liking eating with Dick or hanging out with Jason at school, etc… but the Batfam gets impatient and talks about why they are afraid (and maybe hunt down the ex which could gain their trust?)

Hit me Hard and Soft: Whispers in the Shadows

Synopsis: The relationship between the batfam gets broken after mistakes lead to accusations, and accusations lead to contingency plans.

Pairing: Yandere!Poly!Romantic!Batboys X Gn!Reader

Tw: Poly!Yandere; All characters aged up; Possible betrayal; Bad father Bruce, but is he actually the asshole here?; Arguments; Mentions of killing and torture; Possibly ooc batboys: English is my 2nd language.

Word count: 2k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: Not much action between Reader and the batboys here, but definitely something. Read the end to answer my question👀

General masterlist | Hit me Hard and Soft - Series masterlist

— You can't be serious.

The tension was at its highest point. Only a few times priorly did the conflict between all of them get this bad, and as always, they feared things couldn't go back to the way they were.

— I am being serious. That's how things work. — Bruce stated darkly and Dick narrowed his eyes. — We tried it the nice way, I trusted you to behave, but you couldn't do that. — Bruce raised his gloved hand and pointed at Damian. — First, Damian can't control himself. He spent a decade acting right. Justice, not vengeance. But now, he's using (Y/N) as an excuse to defile orders and act as an assassin again! — Damian hissed and clenched his fists, taking a step forward.

— If you really cared for them, you would understand, father! But as always, you put your so-called mission above everything, even us! Even them! — Bruce clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes in his direction, then turned to Jason.

— And you! How many chances do I have to give you? Both of you! You don't change. You will never change. And until you do that, you will never deserve (Y/N)’s or mine trust. Or their love. — Jason's heart broke in two, but he didn't react on the outside. Just kept his hard, Red Hood’s exterior. As he always did every time he and Bruce had a falling out.

— Bruce… — Dick muttered, a mix of a warning to remind him of not going too far, and betrayal by what he was witnessing. Bruce didn't look phased. And the fact he was still wearing Batman's suit, minus the cowl, just made this whole situation more genuine. He was neither Bruce Wayne, the persona, nor Batman, the vigilant. He was just Bruce. Their boss and their father.

— You hunted down that man, tortured and killed him! And you… — He took his gaze away from Jason and glared at Damian again. — Knew about it, and didn't notify us!

— I did know about it. Todd, you should have told us before. I also wanted that scum’s blood in my hands-

— ENOUGH! THE BOTH OF YOU WILL STAY AWAY FROM (Y/N). FOREVER.

Tim raised an eyebrow.

— Sound’s convenient. — All head’s snapped in his direction.

— What do you mean, Tim? — Dick asked. All muscles on his body tense. Tim gazed at him for a moment, then at Damian and Jason, then at Bruce again, staring directly into his eyes. — I just think it's very convenient that Bruce's getting rid of two of them. While your reason checks with past conflicts we had, with your morals and mission. It's also good for you that you wouldn't have to share (Y/N)’s attention with so many people in the future. Right, Bruce?

Silence took hold of the room.

— What are you implying? — Bruce stomped forward until he was face to face with Tim, their nose’s almost touching, daring him to say more. Tim didn't back down.

— Yeah, Tim, what're you implying? — Jason raised an eyebrow behind his helmet and took a step forward. The others copied that action.

— I’ve been watching you, Bruce. Just like you've been watching us. I know you’ve been upgrading contingency plans, more specifically, our contingency plans. I think he's been trying to keep us busy. To rile us up to commit mistakes. While he hogs all of (Y/N)’s attention. He said Damian could be trusted again if he proved himself, that was a year ago, and he still didn't give Damian permission. I bet he knew Damian would get restless and get more violent with criminals. Until he had an excuse to kick him out. And Jason, he let you spend time with (Y/N) at university. But as soon as (Y/N) started calling you their best friend, hanging out with you outside of classes and even confiding in you about their trauma, proving that our plan to make them trust us was finally working, suddenly (Y/N)’s ex receives an offer to transfer to GCPD, while everyone here has a… Weakness, when it comes to losing people we love and avenging their suffering, it's a known fact some are more… Trigger-happy than others.

Dick shook his head.

— Tim, that's something serious you're accusing him of.

— Let him continue. — Bruce growled darkly.

— I don't have anything to accuse you of, Bruce. I just don't trust you. — He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

— So you're ready to brush off what they did? — Bruce accused and Dick started to feel even more restless seeing that the distance between them didn't change, feeling the urge to get in the middle and defend his little brother.

— I didn't say anything. But I wouldn't be surprised if me or Dick were next. — That made Dick snap.

No, he can't.

He can’t keep me away from them.

After everything I did.

We're just so close now.

Just earlier today we were having lunch together.

He can't.

He can't do this to me.

Is that how Jay and Dami felt? Is that why they snapped and started killing people? Is that why Jason killed that guy? Just for the idea of losing them forever?

Is that why, even with how heartbreaking and horrible it sounds, any possibility of someone trying to take them away from them made Tim voice out his paranoia? Thoughts Dick had when everything was quiet, when he just brushed it off as intrusive thoughts?

It isn't… Logical… But it also is…

The only thing stopping him from believing Tim wholeheartedly is the lifelong trust he had on Bruce. But those are just feelings. And they all feel. Intensely. For you.

And as much as they tried to make it peaceful, everyone having a piece of you and being happy. They were having problems, and a traitor was always a possibility.

Either way, he couldn't take that chance.

That night, Wayne Manor slept almost completely empty. All of the sons were gone. And you would know it too.

It's been a week. They've been meeting at the apartment just beside yours. It was empty, until Damian bought it, and started living there after cutting ties with his father. He wasn't happy that the others were also using it as their nest, a place to meet and talk about strategies. And keep an eye on you.

Damian was slowly steering his tea, mind elsewhere, not really paying mind to the conversation. While it was important, his stomach was full of butterflies and his heart pounded hard every time he thought about earlier, something he couldn't stop doing. After a whole year of being almost completely away from you, finally spending time with you was like a dream. That just made his resentment towards his father grow worse, even if he didn't do that on purpose, it still felt like injustice.

He knew since he was born, his way of doing things was always better.

He just told you he didn't know that part of the town much, and you, sweet you, already acquainted with his brothers, invited him to show him around. A bad taste came to his mouth whenever he thought he was the least close to you, even if he knew everything there was to know about his beloved. He got left behind. He let himself be left behind.

Because he was weak. Because he was submissive. Because he trusted his father.

His mother did send him to his progenitor's home saying that he needed to learn from him.

— We could use the League.

All heads snapped to him.

— Huh?

— We are talking about contingency plans for our father. We could have the League of Assassins on our side. Infinite resources against one single man. (Y/N) would live in luxury. And they did tell us… — His heart warmed at the sensation of finally feeling included in your life. — … Multiple times that they despised the cold weather Gotham always seems to have. Eth Alth'eban is always hot.

— We are not joining those fuckers, and you shut down that idea before I start believing what that old man said about you and kick your ass into your grave, demon brat. — Damian kept stoic after Jason's response.

— We could use the League for something good for once. I could. As the Head of the Demon. — He retorted with confidence.

Dick shook his head in disbelief.

— Dami, I think that's too much. It would only prove what Bruce was trying to say. — Damian leaned forward, as if getting closer would make his point come across as more genuine.

— I could do it! Not as a dictator like my grandfather! But as something actually good! Not just for us, but for everyone! The whole world!

— Does that megalomaniac plan of yours have an actual strategy? — Damian rolled his eyes.

— Of course it has. Kill anyone who gets in the way of my rightful place at birth. — Damian tilted his head at Tim, who looked at him in disbelief.

— Even Ras? — Damian frowned. What a dumb question. Damian would do anything for you.

— Especially Ras. — A fist hit the table and the oldest got up with a scowl in his face.

— No one. Is going to kill. Anyone. And we are not going to use the League. — Damian got up too.

— What is stopping you? This is for (Y/N)! It is not just some fucking petty act to annoy father. He acted behind our backs and he will take my beloved from me! From us!

— We don't know that yet! — Even with Dick's exclamation, it was clear not even him was totally sure about Bruce's intentions.

— … Failing to prepare is preparing to fail. — Tim muttered. They all observed he had a distant look on his face, it was the look he had when he was planning something. After a few seconds, he looked up again and got up, facing Damian. — I'm with you. It’ll be nice to see Ras look when he realizes he lost to me one last time. And to have whole guardianship of my spleen he keeps on his bedside table again.

— What? — The other three sputtered.

— I won't kill anyone. But I will help you and be an ally. Even if that means losing the Titans and leaving behind everything I build here. All for (Y/N). — Tim spoke. Jason got up.

— Tim, you can't be serious too. — He received a glare in return.

— I am. You're invited to join us. Or to become our enemy.

Damian was staring at Tim, the brother he always had a strange relationship with, full of fights and sarcasm, but they always knew they could count on each other in the end. Because they were family.

Of course, it would be nicer to have you all to himself, but he also needed more allies, and brilliant minds like his own. It would also hurt to lose every person he loved while choosing you, even if he would always choose you in the end.

— … What if (Y/N) doesn't trust us after this? — Dick mumbled, trying to see both sides before making a decision.

— We’ll explain to them. About how we got rid of every single individual who wanted to isolate and steal them from us. How we want to care for them. Keep them safe. And how I- We, made the world a better place in the process. — Dick glared at him halfheartedly.

— We have a solid plan here, Dick. We Just have to form our strategies based on what we have. It will work!

Dick sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. He started walking around the apartment, contemplating, listening in on your apartment and Tim and Damian in the background, trying to convince Jason.

When even Jason seemed convinced, Dick knew what he had to do.

Everyone turned to him when he came back to the table again, in expectation.

He looked Damian in the eyes and put his hand on his little brother's shoulders. So grown. So different from what he was before meeting you. You brought the worst out of him. Out of all of them. And you didn't even know it. That was the worse part.

But Dick was always known for being a manipulator.

— Congratulations, you're the new Demon's Head.

Extra note: I'm curious to if you guys think Bruce was actually planning something and not just being regular canon Batman putting his morals above family👀

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

DC Taglist:

@wandalfnation @vadersassistant @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @hxsun4 @silverklaus @toast-on-dandelioms @bluewillbon @ladyel1x1r3l0p3r @wpdarlingpan @lilyalone @bloodyboi @gram-cracker24 @prongs-moon @sxftiebee

[valentinetypewriter]

Marauders x Y/n incorrect quotes

Can be read as poly or as platonic

Masterlist

—

Y/n, setting down a card: Ace of spades

Sirius, pulling out an Uno card: +4

James, pulling out a Pokémon card: Jolteon, I choose you

Remus, trembling: What are we playing

—

*Y/n is cooking*

Sirius: Any chance that’s for me?

Y/n: It’s for Remus. I’m planning on making some bad choices tonight, and I need him on my side

James: I never realised the planning that went into being a disappointment

—

Y/n: Dammit, Sirius!

Sirius: What?! It wasn’t me!

Y/n: Sorry, force of habit. Dammit, James!

James: Not me either

Y/n: Oh...Then who set the common room on fire?

Remus: *whistles*

—

James: I sleep with a gun under my pillow

Sirius: I sleep with a knife

Y/n: Both of you are pathetic

James: Oh yeah? What do you sleep with?

Y/n: Remus

—

James: What’s the announcement, Remus?

Remus: It’s a lecture. Sirius’s gonna tell us everything he knows about sex

Y/n: It should be an enjoyable 60 seconds

—

James: I spy with my little eye something that begins with the letter “s”

Y/n: *looks over at Sirius and Remus*

Y/n: Is it “sexual tension”?

—

Y/n: Hey Remus, wanna third wheel on my date with James tomorrow

Remus: Sure

Y/n: Sirius! Wanna third wheel on my date with James tomorrow?

Y/n: Great! I've always wanted to go on a double date!

Remus & Sirius: ...

James: Y/n…

—

Remus: Bad news—James locked us out of our dorm room

Remus: Good news—we didn’t have to wait around for a professor

Remus: Bad news—Sirius finds it very concerning that I know how to pick locks, and tried to unlock my tragic backstory. I was too embarrassed to admit that the reason I learned it was because, at thirteen, I figured that was the kind of skill that would impress cute girls

Remus: Good news—a cute girl saw me do it

Remus: Bad news—it was Y/n, and since she's already seen me fall out of several trees, cry because I saw a fawn that was just too damn small, and knows I can ride a unicycle, she'll never think I’m cool no matter what I do. It’s too late

—

James: Sirius, you'll be working with Remus and Y/n

Sirius: Alright! My fantasy threesome!

Everyone else: *blank stares*

Sirius: ...Of people on a team

—

Remus: Sorry I'm late, I was doing stuff and got distracted

Y/n: I'm stuff!

Sirius: I'm got distracted!

James: We had sex

[callsign-rogueone]

the archives // Fourth Wing masterlist

welcome to the fourth wing.

these are all reader inserts, using the second person “you”. everything about a certain series, including my fics and things I’ve reblogged that fit their vibe, will be tagged as “#Garrick and Angel”, “#Brennan and Duchess”, etc. see this post for further information. requests are currently CLOSED / VERY SLOW until I get more caught up, but my ask box is always open to chat about FW, the girlfriends, or whatever! last updated: 2.19.25

standalone fics / headcanons

Aaric Graycastle - intimacy alphabet Bodhi Durran - by your side - where were you in the morning? - not that bad at all - the night we met - intimacy alphabet - fractured - defective 🆕 Brennan Sorrengail - you're somebody else - this is me trying - intimacy alphabet - older (agegap!Bren) - you called - rest - defective (platonic) 🆕 Dain Aetos - midnight snow - part of the family - intimacy alphabet Garrick Tavis - all the small things - intimacy alphabet - one for the books Imogen Cardulo - the dress Liam Mairi - harvest day - intimacy alphabet 🆕 1. the spider 2. one too many 3. change of plans Mira Sorrengail - reunited - mercy Ridoc Gamlyn - not joking - love at first fight Xaden Riorson - a brief history of Navarre - intimacy alphabet - together 1. i wish i hated you all fourth wing boys: - excuses, excuses - under the weather - that time of the month - bedtime 🆕 - pet 🆕 all fourth wing boys + girls - study season random thoughts about multiple boys - dragon rings - xaden's birthday

girlfriendverse

Sawyer and Peach masterlist

Liam and Spark masterlist - relationship questions

Garrick and Angel about Angel 1. keep her safe 2. resson (garrick's version) 3. letters from samara 4. what was I made for? 4.5 thank you (optional spicy chapter in the middle of #4) - misc relationship asks - together (platonic Angel / Gare / Xaden) - he can call me angel if he wants to

Brennan and Duchess masterlist

Ridoc and Sweetheart about Sweetheart 1. love at first fight 2. like snow on the beach 3. questions 🆕 4. not alone - relationship questions

Bodhi and Darling (no particular reading order) about Darling - not that bad at all - by your side - the night we met - deja vu - glad it was you

Dain and Love about Love 1. falling, floating, flying 2. reunification day: 3. five thirty 4. two reunions

Aaric and Sunny 1. conscription day 2. assessments

misc girlfriend stuff - modern!girlfriends' music tastes

poly fics

Dain + Xaden - our girl Ridoc + Sawyer 1. hey roomie Garrick + Bodhi - three in the morning Xaden + Liam - liam's lesson

not reader inserts

Garrick / Sloane - wrong to love you Ridoc and Sawyer - lean on me 🆕