#surprisingly its NOT happy chaos

[arundolyn]

Your thoughts on the xrd newcomer cast (Answer, Leo etc)? I personally like them a lot as my favourite batch of new playables.

I REALLY LIKE ALL OF THEM TBH. esp the valentines and raven (if that counts. first mainline fighting game debut. yknow) their designs are so appealing and fun to me. very much miss leo's huge fluff that's indiscernible from his hair. playing soooo hard into the lion motif it was fun. they're all so clearly lovingly crafted and it makes me :)

[rileyslibrary]

Ghost is forced to dress up as Santa for the day and talk to kids.

You’re ordered to tag along as his Elf and do some damage control if necessary.

———————————————————————

You lean against his armchair, watching the chaos in front of you. Children are crying, tugging at their parents’ clothes, shouting both in excitement and fear, all while looking at you. A young boy keeps waving at your lieutenant, desperate to get his attention, but Ghost is too preoccupied with coming to terms with his new reality to notice.

You return his wave with a smile.

“Try to stay still, Santa,” you remind Ghost as you nod towards the boy. “Kids are watching.”

He snaps back into focus and redirects his attention to the queue. He stretches one last time, pushing on the armrests, before settling into the chair.

“Try not to tell me what to do,” he murmurs and waves back at the child.

You straighten up and tweak your green hat, triggering the bell at its tip to jiggle in your ear. You feel for him; you really do. He’s not supposed to be here; he’s not built for this. Unfortunately—for him or the kids, you haven’t decided yet—the “real” Santa broke his hip at the last minute, and your military base stepped in to provide a new Santa for the local community.

And what better replacement than Ghost, you may ask? Well, literally anybody else.

Dressed in a red costume with white faux fur trim, the lieutenant looks nothing like the man you experienced on the battlefield. His shoulders threaten to rip through the rented outfit, and the seams at the back hold onto each other for dear life. Since his belly wasn’t big enough to simulate Santa’s, you asked him to stuff a pillow under his uniform. Surprisingly, Ghost complied almost instantly, leaving you to wonder if he was using the pillow as Kevlar, a barrier between him and the kids or if he was secretly enjoying this.

You also convinced him to ditch the balaclava for the time being since he would now have plenty of props to conceal his face—a wig, a long beard, glasses, and a red hat with a white pom-pom, to be exact. Additionally, you attempted to trick him into applying some blush on his cheeks, but he side-eyed you and told you to ‘be careful now’—ironic for a man who paints his face daily.

You rub your temples, trying to keep calm amid the chaos of the mall as you prepare for what’s about to happen during the next few hours. You have no idea why Price chose him to be Santa, but you didn’t question it either. Ghost seems to be the least qualified for the job out of everyone in the base. It feels like a last resort, so to speak—a ‘that’s all we have left in the store’ solution.

On the other hand, you know precisely why the captain chose you to accompany him. “To monitor the situation,” he said—“To make sure we don’t get sued,” you heard. And, under normal circumstances, you’d be happy to tag along with Ghost—be it on patrol, on missions, or even transporting confidential documents. But in this situation? Acting as a troubleshooter rather than a teammate? You’d rather be anywhere else than here, with anybody else than him.

You take another look at him while he sits on the chair. He’s tugging at the uniform, scratching his head, and instinctively pulling the beard to his nose.

“Stop doing that,” you whisper. “It’s a beard, not a balaclava.”

“Price would have been perfect for the job, for fucks sake,” he spits. “He has the fucking moustache for starters.”

“Stop with the ‘fucks’ and the ‘fucking’ Ghost; you’re about to talk to kids! And, as for the captain, he said he couldn’t do it.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, lifting his hands from the armrests. “And what makes him think that I can?”

“I wish I knew, to be honest, but we don’t have time to go through this again,” you murmur, looking at your watch one last time. You approach the barrier, unclip the rope from the stanchion, and turn over your shoulder.

“Operation ‘Santa’ begins now,” you declare. “Ready?”

“Do I have a choice?” He replies, shrugging, and gestures for you to proceed.

And so it begins. Your first ‘customer’ arrives, and many more follow. You guide one family at a time into the enclosure and escort them to Ghost, who handles the rest. Some children are hesitant, peeking out from behind their parents’ legs, while others are much more direct with their intentions as they scream in horror at the sight of him.

On the other hand, Ghost is neither your typical jolly Santa nor the irritated lieutenant you’d expect. He appears to be... understanding. He reassures parents that it’s okay and there’s no need to force their children onto his lap if they feel uncomfortable. He initiates conversations with the kids from a respectful distance. He smiles with his eyes and hunches his shoulders to appear less imposing. Sometimes, he lures the shy ones into a handshake, a fist pump, or a high five by lowering his gloved hand to their level.

And then there are those other types of kids: the curious ones, the social butterflies. The ones who look forward to sitting on Ghost’s lap, diving into full-blown conversations with him. That’s when you stiffen up and switch into damage-control mode to ensure he won’t lash out at them. You begin hovering above them, listening, jumping into their conversations and sometimes interrupting Ghost and replying to the kids instead of him.

You would have thought he’d be grateful to have you managing the situation. Ghost, however, seems more irritated by you than by the little girl who’s currently playing with the pom-pom on his hat.

“Oi, Elf!” he says calmly, yet visibly annoyed. “Emma and I are chatting about how she spilt tomato juice on her Elsa costume and wants a new one for Christmas. Could you please falala off and go wrap some presents?”

“B-but I need to know because I’ll be sewing it for her,” you reply, smiling at the little girl. “Isn’t that right, Emma?”

And, although Emma nods her head, more out of necessity than agreement, you get his point. He’s doing surprisingly well with those kids, even without you. Actually, he’s doing remarkably well, especially without you.

More kids come and go, and Ghost slowly adapts to his new persona. He starts making bets with you, predicting which kids in the queue might ask for a PlayStation or an iPad and even speculating who might wipe snot on his costume. You, in response, adopt a more laid-back approach and let him do his thing. After each child’s visit, Ghost turns towards you, whispering in your ear about their Christmas wishes, as if he’s indeed Santa, and keeps logs.

“My man wants a full-sized car wheel,” Ghost murmurs as the young boy leaps off his lap, “can you believe him?”

“What did you say to him?” You ask, stifling a laugh.

“I told him I’ll get it for him,” he shrugs. “What else should I do?”

“Alright, but what did you really want to tell him?”

“That his dad already has four of them screwed in his car.”

As the day winds down, and the final announcement for the day echoes through the speakers, parents and children walk past you and towards the exit. They wave at Ghost and occasionally at you. The parking lot empties, the stores shut their doors until tomorrow, and the holiday lights that decorate the inside of the mall switch off one by one.

You stretch your back and tap on his shoulder, signalling that both of you should pack up and return to the base.

“Nuh-uh,” he says, grasping your wrist with one hand and tapping his thigh with the other. “You didn’t tell me what you want for Christmas.”

You’re exhausted but still manage to smile as you comply with his request. You sit on his lap, and he leans back to take a better look at you.

“Let’s think about it another way,” you say. “What would you, as Santa, give me for Christmas?”

“Coal,” he replies. “And a muzzle, so you don’t interrupt me while I’m talking. What was that all about?”

“Was afraid you’d say something bad,” you explain. “But you were pretty good with those kids.”

He shakes his head and plays with the fur trim on his sleeve. “Nah,” he murmurs. “I’d never say something bad to a kid.”

“Speaking of bad and coal,” you say, combing his fake beard, “you never asked the typical ‘have you been a good kid’ to any of them.”

“There’s no bad kid in the world, love,” he whispers. “All kids are good, even the naughty ones.”

You smile at him, but he doesn’t look back at you. He’s examining his uniform as if trying to find something else to discuss. He finds some crumbs a kid left on his suit and brushes them off.

“Ready to head back to the base, Lieutenant?” You ask, tapping his thigh before standing up. You extend your hand to him, and he gladly accepts it, helping him rise from the chair he’s been sitting in all day. You begin walking towards the exit, and he wraps his arm around your shoulder. You reciprocate by hugging his waist.

You walk up to the parked military vehicle that brought you here earlier, still discussing the day. He opens the door but pauses and turns to look at you.

“Resilience,” he declares. “That’s what I would gift you for Christmas.”

“Why?” You ask, turning to look at him. “You think I need it?”

“We all do,” he replies softly, just like when he used to talk to those kids. “Since I can’t protect you from every obstacle life throws your way, I might as well give you the ability to recover from them.”

“That would make me very happy, Lieutenant.” You say, smiling.

He smiles back at you and reaches for your hat to fix it better on your head. His hand moves to your forehead, and he tucks a stray hair behind your ear.

“It’s Santa to you.” He replies.

———————————————————————

A/N: Bruh, I was so tempted to make the reader pull off a Mariah Carey and say, “All I want for Christmas is you,” when Ghost asked what they wanted, but my gag reflexes kicked in every time, and I was cringing galore.

So, there you go: resilience. That’s what I would like to gift you as well. I wish I could shield you from whatever has troubled you in the past or is currently doing so. To protect you from future worries and make everything ‘falala off’. Unfortunately, I can’t do that, neither for you nor for myself.

But this is why comfort characters and stories exist—so we can imagine, when no one is there for us, that someone actually is.

Just like Santa. Just like Ghost.

[junipers-archive]

Sweater

Word Count: 600

Includes: fluff! the team finds out about reader x Spencers relationship when you show up to work wearing one of his sweaters

"Y/n." It was Penelope, she was whispering conspicuously as you entered the office heading for the conference room.

"Goodmorning!" You answer quickly as you were already running late due to your much needed coffee run this morning.

She begins to trail after you. "Y/n."

You stop, now wondering what's wrong, especially as all the heads in the room begin looking towards you as you walk in. But it isn't until Derek speaks up that you're hinted as to why,

"So you and pretty boy finally did it?" Oh no.

You mind races trying to figure out how he knew. Did Spencer tell him? You'd agreed not to tell anyone at first so you wouldn't cause absolute chaos. But it's been sixth months you guess it's be perfectly reasonable if-

"Your-your Sweater...its Spencers." Penelope elaborates, calming you rampant mind, all at the same time making it spasm.

You look down silently at what you're wearing, its almost identical as your regular getup, but because you were really running late this morning you'd grabbed a sweater from the couch in your shared apartment on your way out.

Completely missing the fact it was Spencers. It had been a soft cobalt blue color crew neck, one of his favorites with little designs lining it in navy...and also one he wore quite often.

You stared in both disbelief from how you'd manage to grab the one he used most consistently and also at your own stupidity and how you'd failed to notice the whole car ride here.

You look up bewilderedly, to find your colleagues staring at you all in varying ways, Derek was grinning, Rossi was smirking, Penelope had taken to a worried/excited look, Emily was respectfully trying to hide her smile and even Hotch was pretending to read the papers in front of him to avoid eye contact.

You attempt a reply calmly but stammer despite yourself,

"I-I-we-um"

closing your eyes to focus your thoughts and breathe, you open them to find Spencer your lovely boyfriend entering or rather staggering into the room.

He had taken the long route so you'd show up at different times,

"Hi! Sorry I'm late-I just-I-What-why's everybody looking at me like that?"

Everyone shaking their heads and smiling to themselves ignored his question as Penelope began to brief all of you on the case.

You hope the subject will be forgotten.

But of course it won't be, and surprisingly its Hotch that asks once the case had been explained and he'd called wheels up,

"Are you two dating?"

Everyone was still seated, waiting for something to be said, and you could see the pleasure in all their faces as he uttered the question.

Spencer swallowed though, not having become aware of the situation even after you'd tried to pass him a note like some third grader.

It had read: I'm wearing your sweater!

To which he'd simply responded with, I'm sure no one's noticed.

Having of course not been aware of your previous interaction with the team.

"We-uh-well-" he tried to begin

"Yes. We are dating." You had to confirm it, knowing if you didn't it would only make matters worse in the long run.

To that Hotch gave his lopsided smirk, "I'm Happy for you, but I'm not thrilled to do the paperwork."

The team of course having heard, errupted in giggles, reminiscent of child like giddy as they finally took it as their cue to leave.

And as they filed out Spencer received several pats on the backs and "good going reid" from Rossi and Derek as you yourself had been berated with questions from Emily and Penelope and "I swear to god if he hurts you-"'.

But as you both shyly retreat, gather your things and exit you agree that the best reaction had been from Hotch as he whispered quietly before he left,

"Well I guess I have to let you room together now."

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Good Luck Charm

[Arcane] Jinx x Female Reader

Summary: Jinx has been told she's a mistake and a...well, a jinx her whole life, which is why it's such a surprise when you tell her she's your good luck charm.

Word Count: 3.09k Content Warnings: A small breakdown Category: Angst + Heavy fluff || Oneshot

[A/N]: Not proofread. Just wanted a quick break in between characters again. I couldn't stop myself from writing for this dork, especially after seeing the teaser for season two.

Enjoy!

 “Alrighty, toots, I think I’m gonna head to bed. You wanna come with, or you gonna stay up a bit longer?” You turned your head over to glance at Jinx, watching as she repeatedly turned her chair partially back and forth with her eyes fixed on you. Smiling warmly, you shrugged. “Well, I’m not tired just yet, and I wanted to finish this book,” you started, watching from the corner of your eye as she seemed to slump down at your words already. “But I can just keep reading in bed.”

Jinx stood and let out a small cheer, trotting over to you and gently taking ahold of your wrist to tug you toward the bedroom you often crashed in. Ever since you had grown close to the “loose cannon” of the undercity, things in your life had rapidly changed. It started off simple – you would spend far more time hanging out with her than anyone else. Then, as things started to develop between the two of you, you began staying the night almost every night with Jinx cuddled up against you as you slept. Even when she couldn’t sleep, you could feel her arms wrapped around your shoulders while she traced random patterns against your skin.

When Jinx had told Silco of your relationship, you feared the worst, already preparing to write your will or find a way to escape his wrath. Surprisingly, though, he was rather accepting. When you asked Jinx about it in private, she told you she believed it was because he had seen how happy she had been ever since you showed up. A few days later, her theory was confirmed when Silco had called you into his office to set rules about dealing with Jinx and her issues with trust.

He warned you that Jinx could get extremely clingy and would get overprotective of you, which you had already noticed she had begun to do, so you simply nodded. He continued to speak of things such as her hallucinations and wish to keep her past a secret. You agreed to all of the terms he had set to be with his daughter, unaware of the figure stationed above you on her usual platform. Her eyes were trained solely on you, legs swinging back and forth as she let herself rest on her stomach. With her head cradled in her palms, a wide grin made its way to her lips as you calmly agreed to take care of her.

It seemed, however, that she had done the opposite, meaning she seemed to take care of you more than the other way around. More often than not, if you were outside of her hideout, it would come across more as possessive than anything. She’d blurt out insults and impulsively pick fights with people who threatened or flirted with you.

Once they realized who they were dealing with, they backed off instantly. The few poor souls who decided to test their luck suddenly went missing, as well as Jinx for a short time, and then were never seen or heard from again. You had learned to come to terms with her reckless and apathetic behavior towards outsiders rather quickly.

“Trinket? Hello? You in there, or… did ya leave this planet?” You blinked, glancing back over at the blue-haired girl as she waved her hand in your face.

“Hm? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about what’s going on in my book. I’m near the end, so everything is getting chaotic.” She snickered and hooked her arm around your shoulders as she led you into the bedroom. “Ah, then you’ll have to let me borrow that book sometime. You know I love a bit of chaos. Or a lot of it.” You smiled at her and rolled your eyes, playfully bumping against her and earning another chuckle.

As she plopped down to sit in her spot on the bed, she watched you silently while you flipped your book back open and sat on the other side of the mattress. Once you had leaned back against the pillows, it didn’t take long before you felt a head land gently on your shoulder. A quick look down let you know Jinx had already bundled up under the covers and shuffled over to cuddle against you for the night. With weary eyes, she peered down at the pages of your book, briefly skimming over the short excerpt of the story she could see.

Soon after, she let out a yawn and tucked her head further against your neck. “G’night, sweets. Love you.” You beamed down at her and pressed a small kiss to the top of her head. “Love you too, hun. Sleep well.”

By the time you had finally woken back up the next day, Jinx had already been up for a few hours. She hadn’t left the bed, but she was tracing patterns and words into your arms and back. When you shifted and yawned, she smiled and perked up rather quickly, sitting up in her spot and peeking down at you. Once you had rolled over to look her in the eye, her grin only grew. “Mornin’, toots. Did you sleep well?” You nodded and sat up, yawning again.

“Yeah, what about you?” She shrugged and toyed with the hem of your sleeve. “Eh, I slept okay. I got kinda restless after a while and woke up, and then I couldn’t go back to sleep.”

You nodded at her words. After a while of you trying to keep your eyes open, you felt Jinx lean against you and tug you close. “I don’t wanna leave to go work on those stupid experiments,” she confessed with a frown. “I just want to stay in here with you. I wish I could come down with you to your job instead.” With a small smirk, you raised a brow and glared over at her. “Oh? And why’s that?” She smirked back at you and slipped her hand down to lace your fingers with her own. “‘Cause I could keep you safe. I could beat up all the pervs that keep trying to get their nasty paws on you.”

A gentle chuckle escaped you as you pulled her further into your side. “Yeah, that’s what makes you my good luck charm. Nothing seems to go wrong for me when you’re near.” You had expected another teasing remark of some kind, though nothing came. Instead, you were greeted with silence. After a while of not receiving any kind of acknowledgment of what you had said, you looked down at Jinx. You blinked in surprise when you saw her gazing right back up at you, eyes filled with a concoction of emotions that couldn’t seem to even out.

Her brows furrowed together. One moment, she seemed confused, and the next, she seemed upset or in disbelief. Similarly to her eyes, her eyebrows couldn’t focus on which emotion to express.

“Uh, hun? You okay?”

“What’d you call me?”

“What?”

“What did you call me?”

You continued to stare at her, unsure of what you were supposed to say. “I called you ‘hun.’” She shook her head and lifted it from your shoulder to be eye level with you. “No, before that. What did you call me before that?” It took a moment for you to recall what you had said a mere moment ago. The confusion of the new situation had made it hard to wrack your memory. “‘My good luck charm?’”

She was silent for a few minutes, which felt like hours with how thick the tension had grown.

“You think I’m lucky? That I’m a lucky charm to you? Do you really think that?”

An uneasy smile and chuckle left your lips. “Well, yeah, of course I do. I mean, I always love being around you, and because of all you do for me, everything seems to go right when you’re around. You really are like a being of good luck to me.”

She seemed troubled at that, which certainly was not what you had expected. Tears welled up in her eyes and prompted them to grow glossy, though she fought them back. “But – no, I’m not lucky. I’m, I mean, my name is “Jinx” for goodness sake! I’m not good. I’m a horrible person. I mess everything up. How could you possibly believe that I’m a good luck charm? I don’t understand.” You felt your nerves spike, recognizing that she was at the beginning stages of another episode. “Woah, hey,” you whispered, placing a hand softly on her shoulder in an attempt to ground her back into reality before she could fly too far away from the present.

“No, I’m not lucky, I’m a Jinx. I’m the opposite of lucky – I’m unlucky. I didn’t – no, please, I’m not. No, shut up! She’s not trying to – stop it already!” Unintentionally, you leaned back, making sure to keep your hand in place. It seemed like Mylo had taken over again, throwing insult after insult at her and flooding her mind with false realities.

“Love, I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” She glared at you, eyes fixed on you in front of her, though she seemed to be staring so far away. Her eyes flickered as though she were reading some sort of script, incoherent mumbles rolling off her tongue. “No, you shouldn’t be… you didn’t – shut up! You shouldn’t be the one apologizing!”

You remained silent, waiting for the right time to chime in as Mylo continued to torment her. Although you had no idea what he was telling her, you could get a general idea based on the few words you could make out in her sputtering.

It took forever, but she ultimately calmed down, panting for breath and clutching handfuls of hair. When she came back to her senses, she found you holding both of her hands to prevent her from tearing her strands out again. Sometime in between her episode and her break into reality, she had begun copying your breathing the way you had helped her practice each time she had gone through it in the past. At length, she sighed and let her eyes bore down into her lap.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered.

Softly, you cupped her face in your hands and lifted her head up to look her in the eye. She shifted her focus away from you, unable to meet your gaze. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m not mad.” The feeling of the pads of your thumbs grazing across her cheeks to wipe her tears away brought her a feeling of relief. Her tense shoulders drooped down after she sighed once again.

Moments passed. She finally forced herself to meet your eye. “Did you really mean it?” She whispered with a broken tone. “That you think I’m lucky?” You nodded with a weak grin. Again, tears pricked her eyes, though she leaned forward and buried her face in your shoulder before they could fall. Her arms lifted from her sides, hands grasping at the back of your shirt as she sucked in multiple shaky breaths.

“I’ve always thought you were lucky.”

Weeks had passed since you had started referring to Jinx as your good luck charm, then it shifted into months, and your list of nicknames began to grow. It became a common occurrence for her to hear you call her “lucky charm,” “charmer,” or even “bluebird.” It seemed as though you were shifting to just focus on positive nicknames instead of entirely pinpointing each play on the words “good luck charm,” though she wasn’t complaining.

She certainly wasn’t used to all of the compliments and the nice names. After all, she had been referred to as a jinx, a screwup, and essentially a burden her entire life up until she met Silco. It would take a while for her to accept what you said as truth, but she had started to come around to the loving nicknames. After a while, she even began to look forward to what you would call her for the day. She had started rubbing off on you in terms of nicknames as well. “Trinket” and “sweets” began to creep into your vocabulary, and she adored the way it sounded rolling off your tongue when it was directed at her.

Soon enough, the positivity had worn down part of her insecurity, so long as she was around you. You made her feel safe and secure, which wasn’t something she was used to either. Often, she could be seen practically bouncing down the halls with a cheesy grin plastered on her face, even if she had just left Silco’s office. Silco and Sevika had definitely taken notice of her sudden shift, and although Sevika didn’t understand why she was so much livelier than normal, Silco found himself smiling more often at the sight of Jinx when she’d suddenly remember the nickname you had chosen for her for the day.

When she’d sit up top on her makeshift platform in Silco’s office, she had to be given reminders in between meetings to settle down. Her legs would swing over the edge and kick at the air rhythmically, and her hands would pat randomly at the wooden planks.

She loved the nicknames, to put it bluntly. She absolutely adored them. Since that night, not once had you referred to her as Jinx. Somehow, even though everyone else called her by her known name, the mere mention of what you were calling her for the day gave her a boost of confidence. Whenever a mission would go wrong, she’d come straight to you to talk about it, then listen with a soft smile as you told her repeatedly how things would be okay and how she’s still your lucky charm.

With how suddenly all the flurry of names were thrown at her, she struggled to pick a favorite. Even so, her energy and overall glee grew daily, even beginning to show in her work. Weapons were crafted more cautiously, produced quicker, and had more expressive markings made by her oil crayons. Sevika didn’t enjoy the increase in enthusiasm, Silco certainly appreciated everything.

He still didn’t fully trust you, though it was growing increasingly obvious to him that you weren’t a threat, and in his eyes, you were there for a reason. You made Jinx happy, and that was all he really wanted in the end. As far as he was concerned, you had his blessing. He knew things could change, but after seeing how you treated her during every emotion she expressed, he figured that was a slim possibility.

As he sat in his office one day, he sighed and ran a hand down his face. The door had closed only a moment ago, and still he could hear the tapping and swaying above him. Leaning back in his chair, he gazed up at Jinx sitting on her small platform, biting back a small smile when he saw her grinning gleefully. “Jinx,” he called out just loud enough for her to hear. She finally turned her attention to him curiously. “Hm?”

“You know you need to be quiet when I have people in here. It’s very distracting with you shuffling around up there.” Jinx chuckled nervously. “Sorry.” He finally allowed himself to smile, catching Sevika off guard from her spot on the sofa. “Why don’t you spend the rest of the day with [Y/N]? You’ve earned a break, both of you.”

Instantly, Jinx dropped from her spot above and landed on Silco’s desk. She crouched down and looked him in the eye. “Really? You’re okay with that?” He nodded. “So long as you two don’t cause any major problems,” he added. She beamed brightly at his words and her eyes lit up. “Thanks!” Within an instant, she turned on her heel and hopped off the desk, already out the door and skipping down the hall to find you.

Silco grinned softly with a small shake of his head. He leaned forward again and motioned for Sevika to shut the door as he picked up a few papers to straighten them.

When Sevika returned to her spot on the sofa, she huffed out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. She bit her tongue with what she wanted to say, but a look of warning from Silco made her waver. “What are you breathing so heavily for?” She waited, trying to rephrase her words before speaking them, but ultimately gave up.

“It’s nothing against either of you. I’ve just never seen her this energetic before, and I’ve seen her get energetic in the past.” To her relief, Silco hummed and smiled. “Yes, she’s certainly been in a better mood as of lately. It’s refreshing, in a way.”

Sevika waited momentarily, unsure of what to say. “You think that girl is the reason she’s been so cheery?” “I know she is. Her name is [Y/N]. She’s known Jinx for a couple of years now, and the two of them have grown quite close in such a short amount of time. I don’t entirely approve of that girl, but Jinx has taken a liking to her, and I’d be a fool to take that away from her.”

Even with her disliking of  the blue-haired girl, Sevika couldn’t help but grin at his words. “Yeah, it is nice to see she’s stable with someone. I was worried she’d drive someone away. [Y/N], was it? She’s patient, and that’s definitely good for someone like Jinx. To be honest, I’m glad they met.”

“Yes, I am as well. I suppose I should include a few of the names [Y/N] has been using to refer to Jinx as when speaking to her. It seems to put her in a better mood, as you’ve said, and I’ve noticed an improvement in her crafts and missions.” A chuckle slipped from Sevika before she could stop it. “Yeah, she hasn’t screwed up another task in a while.”

“Pardon?”

Sevika swallowed and cleared her throat. “Sorry, sir. It was nothing.”

All the while, as they chatted away about her improvement, Jinx trailed down the hallway and all the way to her hideout. When she saw you there, sitting comfortably by her desk in the extra chair she had pulled into the room to have you nearby while she worked, she couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her lips from ear to ear. As she grew closer, she wondered what you would refer to her as that day.

[rush-the-stars]

Dogfight

pairing: nicholas d. wolfwood x reader, vash the stampede x reader, vashwood x reader

wc: 4k what the actual hell lol

cw: jealousy, mild smut/suggestive content, fighting, blood, biting, marking, possessiveness. the boys are jealous of each other sorta but then get on the same page. minors dni, 18+ only

a/n: this is for an anon that asked me about jealous vashwood and then i spent days working on this and it got too big so i made an Official Fic Post rather than just answering the ask bc im insane and unwell lol this is also probs more 98 vash and wolfwood than stampede! i hope you enjoy!! banner from @/cafekitsune

∘₊✧───────────────────✧₊∘

The first time they meet you, its through a shower of gunfire. Your wild smile is all that’s left when the smoke clears.

Wolfwood thinks he hasn’t seen anyone so damn beautiful in his entire life—streaked with blood and eyes lit up like a flame, twirling a twin pair of pistols like fucking ribbons.

And Vash thinks maybe he’s in love? And then he shakes his head and tries to clear it, tries to clear you from his vision, and at least the smoke disappears some. And the chaos stills. But you smile all crooked at them, tilting your head a little in greeting and he feels wobbly all over again.

“Happy to save your asses,” you say, “buy me a drink?”

Vash hears wedding bells.

(It’s just church bells tolling in the distance.)

“Happy to—happ—“ Vash trips over all his words.

“Shit, I’ll buy you dinner, too.” Wolfwood says.

Vash looks at him, Wolfwood looks back. And then they’re stumbling over themselves to get up, clambering and clawing and falling over each other and they must look like foolish, scrapping dogs in the dirt at your feet.

You laugh, though, warm and amused.

“Settle down, boys. bar’s still standing—you can both buy me a drink.”

And they’re left to watch you walk away and talk to Meryl, whose shaking her head and rolling her eyes at them. You introduce yourself to her.

And they both scramble after your heels, right on the tails of your skirts.

***

You sleep with Wolfwood first—

He’s surprisingly gentlemanly with you, even if you can feel the desperation and hunger that he tries to keep so far from the surface. He’s all bravado, all honeyed words and little growled praises as he squeezes the fat of your hips.

He gets you so wet it’s almost embarrassing, except that he also makes you come so hard that you forget about it almost immediately. He adores being between your legs, adores tasting and taking—being on his knees for you.

Wolfwood is a worshipful man. Devoted. Adoring. With a little grit and bite when you need it.

He leaves a mark or two. Around your collar bones or neck. One on your hip. He can’t help himself.

He takes good care of you in that brutishly charming way of his—fucks deep and hard, carves his way through you and makes you toss your head back into the pillow and pull at his hair. He loves to please, loves to be told what to do or what you want. Take what you need, pretty girl. He hums to you, groaning when you tell him how good he feels.

Rarely impatient except when you rile him up, Wolfwood makes a good lover. Fun and obedient and affectionate.

You adore him.

***

Wolfwood and Vash get testy with each other.

Tensions are high—Vash is surprisingly sharp with him, in a way that makes you a little wary, treating him like a bit of a ticking time bomb.

Wolfwood doesn’t help. He’s an instigator and if there’s one thing he loves, it’s to get under someone’s skin. Especially someone like Vash, whose usually easy and cheerful and kind.

“Would you leave it?” Vash snaps at Wolfwood, shoving the man’s hand off his shoulder. He bares his teeth a little and in the dim light you see the knife-sharp flash of his pointed canines.

“I was just trying to be friendly,” Wolfwood drawls in a way that indicates he most certainly wasn’t just trying to be friendly.

“Something the matter?” You ask and when Vash’s eyes land on you, he immediately softens. He looks guilty. Hangs his head a little and looks at the ground.

“No,” he says, “sorry—“

But Wolfwood says, “Blondie’s got his panties in a bunch about something and I was just trying to see what was wrong—“

Vash’s eyes flash.

“Nick,” you snap. Short and sharp, like reprimanding a dog.

He looks at you. You look back. Then you jerk your head to tell him to get lost, “take a hike.”

“And who made you the boss?” He snarks.

You level him with a more serious look, hand on your hip, “I’ll find you later.”

“You can’t just order me—“

“I wanna talk to Vash.” You respond firmly, “and you’re being a jackass.”

He stares at you for another long moment. You don’t back down, in fact you tip your chin up a little, meeting his eyes with a flash of authority.

He looks at Vash, who quickly glances away.

He scoffs, “whatever. You’re both a pain in my ass.” But he listens to you and skulks off.

You turn to Vash when he’s out of ear shot, “you okay?” You ask.

Vash can’t look at you. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that—“

“Not your fault. He can be a pest. Walk with me?” You ask and now you hold up the crook of your elbow.

Vash eyes you uncertainly for a moment, before he lets go of a small breath, and siddles up to your side. He loops his arm through yours and you begin to guide him through this little, nowhere town. The sun is setting. The dusk sky is smoky and golden, like a quartz glittering, shadowed and shining.

“You seem—“ You choose your words carefully, “troubled lately.” And then you amend, “more troubled than usual.”

“I’m sorry to worry you but everything’s fine.” Vash shakes his head.

“Vash,” you implore gently, shaking his arm a little. “I can tell something’s bothering you. Won’t you tell me?”

“Ah,” Vash says weakly, “it’s alright.” And he looks ahead, out at the horizon. You follow his gaze. There's nothing out there but the line of land in the distance.

“Thanks for standing up for me tonight but you should—you should go find him. He’ll be waiting for you.”

And then Vash drops your arm and walks away, his head down, a little furrow to his brows. And you watch him go, dumbfounded.

When you return to Wolfwood, he’s waiting for you on the porch of the little inn you're staying at, smoking a cigarette.

“What the hell was that all about?” He gruffs, blowing the smoke from the corner of his mouth.

You don’t answer him at first. You slip into his lap easily. He raises his eyebrows in slight surprise, but immediately adjusts, one hand around your waist, the other holding his cigarette away from you.

“You need to leave him be.” You say, sighing as you sink into his embrace.

He pauses for a moment, looks at you—really looks at you.

Then he says, “he wants you, you know.”

“Is that what this is about? Are you jealous? Is that why you’re pestering him?” You rub your knuckle against his stubbly jaw, pet him a little. He leans into the touch, nudging himself against your hand.

"You like him?" He asks instead.

"Course I like Vash." You hush, fingers moving to card through his hair.

He takes a slow drag from his cigarette before he leans away to blow the smoke away from you. It lingers in the air around him and for a moment, you look at him through the haze. The smell of it reminds you so thoroughly of him nowadays that you almost crave it when its not around.

"No," Wolfwood corrects, "do you like him the way you like me?"

"You think I like you?" You tease, but he doesn't take kindly to that and jostles you in his lap a little and even goes so far as to jerk his head away from your touch.

"Woah, take it easy," you say, realizing he really didn't like that joke, "I was only playin' with you. I'm in your lap, aren't I?"

He softens a little. Lets go of a breath. He squeezes your waist, maybe in apology. To soothe the ache, you lean forward and press a kiss to his jaw, pepper them lightly down his neck.

"You didn't answer the question." He mumbles and you feel more than you see him flick his cigarette down and crush it with the heel of his shoe. He pulls you closer now that his other hand is free, slots you tight against him, and leans back to give you more room at his neck.

"Would you be mad if I said yes?" You murmur, carefully kissing at the pulse in his neck. You hide there.

"If i was?"

"You aren't good at sharing?" You coo, nudging your nose against his jaw, up to catch him in a quick kiss. He nips a little in answer.

"Not usually," he finally says.

"Not even with Vash?" You ask, because you know him better than he'd like to admit. And now you pull away to look at him.

To really look at him.

His eyes flick away, maybe bashfully, "yeah, well—I don't think I'm the one you have to worry about."

"What do you mean?" You ask.

He shrugs a little, "you think cause he puts up the goody-two-shoes act that it makes him good with sharing?" He asks, "why do you think he's gotten so pissed with me lately?"

You hum in acknowledgement. "Have you been rubbing it in?" You ask.

"Not intentionally." He says. And then when you look at him more pointedly, he admits, "not intentionally most of the time."

"Well, we'll see if Vash can share." You finally say and lean again to kiss him.

But in a sudden move, he grabs your chin, forces you still. Forces you to look at him.

"Only Vash, you hear me?" He says. His eyes are dark suns, all encompassing and imploring and fiery, "anyone else and I'll lose it."

You can't tell if it's a warning with the slight waver in his voice or a threat, with the growl behind the end of it. And then you remember scared dogs bite.

"Only Vash." You swear, "only you."

He settles a little, leans back again, and this time, when you kiss him, it's harder. More a claiming than a kiss — more a damning than a passion. He gives it back tenfold.

He litters you in little marks, in his scent, and drops his blazer around your shoulders in the morning. At breakfast, right in front of Vash, he catches you in a sharp, burn of a kiss.

More of a claiming. More of a damning.

***

When you sleep with Vash for the first time, it’s after a near-death experience. You were being reckless. The room is charged.

And Vash kisses you not like it’s the first time, but like it could be the last. He's the heat of a falling star, searing you, devouring you. He's all desperation. All starvation.

You'd thought with how sweet he usually was, that he'd be even more well behaved than Wolfwood, but that is far from the truth. He's a little untamed, untrained and clumsy and ferocious.

He whines as he takes you apart and you think he'd probably take praise well if you could teach him but right now he's just so— raw. So yearning and famished with it all.

You've no choice but to try and give everything you can in hopes of soothing him in some way. Filling the emptiness in him. And even still, you're aching and sore and torn-up after all is said in done.

Vash is bashful and a little remorseful about it come morning.

But you twine your arms around him and kiss him hard in reassurance. In encouragement.

He's passionate and all-encompassing. He's all your world in this moment.

You adore him.

Later, when Wolfwood sees the marks he left on you, he curses.

"Is he a fucking vampire?" He asks, tilting your head to the side to see the dark bruise in the side of your neck. But then he realizes how tender you are still, how aching, and he coos all soft.

Tells you he'll lick the wounds Vash gave you.

Says. I told you it wasn't me you had to worry about.

Vash avoids you and Wolfwood for nearly two days.

On the third, he finally breaks.

And when he does, he bundles you in his red coat after a long day, fists his hands in the collar of it to pull you towards him, and kisses you hard in front of Wolfwood, underneath the dark heavens above. He says he'll be back later.

Your lip throbs from the nip of his teeth.

(When Wolfwood kisses you shortly after, pushing Vash's coat from your shoulders, he soothes the sting with his tongue.)

***

For awhile, all the boys do is fight when they're around each other. It's getting to a point where Meryl is avoiding them at all costs—and you're just short of joining her.

The worst of it is on one of the hottest days in a long time.

Wolfwood says something he shouldn't—asks Vash if he could smell his cologne on you. Asks if he likes it.

It's too far. Usually, they bicker and fight over unrelated, stupid shit.

But that strikes a nerve.

And it's so fast that you don't even catch it, and suddenly Vash has Wolfwood pinned against the wall, hands fisted in the front of his shirt.

You always thought, maybe just on height and weight alone, that Wolfwood was stronger. But looking at Vash now, easily pinning him, you aren't quite sure.

"Oh, you wanna finally fight?" Wolfwood asks, baring his teeth, too.

And really, it's like when dogs fight.

It's fast and vicious. It sounds worse than it is—snarling and growling and wrestling with each other. It's artless. You've seen them both in a fight and this isn't—this isn't that. It's better, maybe, on Wolfwood's end. He's not trying to kill Vash. But maybe it's also worse, more personal, more brutal.

You hear Vash yelp—Wolfwood curses. More fighting.

You yell at them, the way you shout at fighting dogs, grab hold of Wolfwood around the collar and pull hard enough that he stops from his place over Vash, panting.

His mouth is bloody and it drips down onto Vash, his teeth still bared and crimson.

For a moment, they look at each other.

(And Vash thinks wildly, looking up at Wolfwood, sorry about the blood in your mouth. I think I wish it was mine. He tastes blood himself and wonders if it is Wolfwood's. If he really did bite him.

Wolfwood thinks, hit me again. If that's all you'll give me now, I'll take it. Wolfwood looks down at Vash, feels his heaving chest beneath him, and thinks, if I can only have you this close in a fight, I'll take that, too.)

You're cursing them both out, hauling Wolfwood off of him. You're furious and shaking and you're scolding them both.

You're fussing over them both, too, angrily wiping at their mouths and inspecting their wounds.

And they both think, maybe I should pick more fights, to see you like this, too, flustered and livid and worried. Doting. Adoring.

You shake your head at the both of them but—

You adore them.

***

It takes another man sniffing around you for them both to finally get on the same page.

And if it's one thing about Vash and Wolfwood, for all their bickering and differences, they know when to shut up and work together.

The moment another man starts chatting you up at the bar, they both go still and silent.

"You see what I'm seeing?" Wolfwood asks.

"Yeah," Vash says, eyes narrowing behind his glasses as the man manages to make you laugh. He leans all close to you. Vash has a near visceral reaction to jerk up from his seat beside Wolfwood.

Wolfwood grabs his arm.

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin' then?" He asks.

Vash spares him only a glance—his eyes are trained on you and the man at your side. He grimaces. "Probably not. I don't wanna kill him."

Wolfwood barks out a laugh as Vash adds, "but I don't want him here, either."

"You wanna chase him off?" He asks. "Or you want me to be the bad guy?"

Vash swallows.

"She'll get mad at me for being an asshole. She'll be all pleased with you for being so good." He says and there's a dryness to his tone, a certain resignation or—

"Why would you do that?" Vash asks and he finally peels his eyes away long enough to look at Wolfwood.

To really look at him.

He shrugs, "I don't mind being in the dog house."

Vash eyes him.

Wolfwood smiles a little, "and I think she's hot when she's mad."

Vash frowns at that, a little twitch of his lips, almost in a pout. "Besides that—I meant—why would you do that for me?"

Wolfwood looks back over at the man at the bar, whose gotten even closer to you, his shoulder almost brushing yours. You're smiling and playing nice. Wolfwood's hackles rise. He bristles. He finally stands, too.

He never feels this way when he sees you with Vash. He never feels this way on the nights when Vash has you. In fact, the idea of it is—it's—

Kissing you after Vash. Knowing he'd just kissed you. Sinking his teeth into the ridges of marks Vash leaves on you, like he's trying to get his own taste. Or compare his teeth to Vash's. Maybe he growls and snaps at him and bares his teeth the next day, too, but he never feels like this.

Scared and mean and angry and—

"What, are you gonna make me fuckin' say it?" Wolfwood snaps.

"Say what?!"

Wolfwood slugs his arm hard. The flesh one, so he doesn't damn near break his knuckles doing it. And Vash yelps all high and Wolfwood wants to shake him and he also sorta wants to hit him again. And maybe he wants to kiss him stupid, too—

"I don't—" Wolfwood swallows hard, "I don't mind sharing. With you. With only you."

Wolfwood looks at him.

Really looks at him.

And then Vash turns the deepest shade of red.

Wolfwood's face gets hot all over, too. "Oh, Christ, blondie—did you really not know?"

"I don't know what I thought!" Vash says and his voice gets sorta high.

"Well—" Wolfwood shifts, uncharacteristically nervous, "what about—I mean, do you—are you okay sharing...with me?"

"At first, I thought I wasn't." Vash admits, "and I was jealous of—" he swallows, "I was jealous of both of you, if I think about it. You're just—you push my buttons more than she does—so. I took it out on you, mostly."

"Ah," Wolfwood says, "you took it out on her, too. Just in a different way."

Vash cheeks somehow get darker with color and Wolfwood laughs, realizing that he's—it's relief. He feels relieved, finally, as he laughs.

"You're a dumbass." He says to Vash.

And Vash smiles at him, crooked and boyish and stupidly handsome. That smile that Wolfwood has always liked.

Wolfwood then turns his gaze back to you, back to the man at the bar whose leaning in all close. He sees you tip away, adjusting your space. And he says;

"Now let's go get our girl."

The moment Wolfwood comes up behind you, you know there will be trouble unless this man doesn't leave quick — what you aren't expecting, is Vash to come up on the other side of the man. You tilt your head.

You feel a broad hand on your lower back, "he botherin' you?" Wolfwood asks, leaning all into your space.

The man sizes up Wolfwood, weighing his chances still and you can nearly feel Wolfwood stiffen and bristle behind you. He doesn't like being challenged.

"He was just seeing if I wanted a drink."

Vash, on the other side of the man says, "maybe he'd like it if I bought him a drink instead!" And though it's said brightly, it's almost a little too bright.

Vash's eyes gleam like the cold edge of bright moons.

You look between them for a moment as the man says, "alright, what the hell is this? You her boyfriend or something?"

"Or something." Wolfwood agrees casually.

"And whose this guy?" He snarks to Vash, "her other boyfriend?"

"Or something." Vash says, still smiling, and that really pisses the guy off.

"Would you back up?" He snaps and he shoves at Vash enough that he stumbles away a few steps. And before he can do something stupid, you put yourself between Wolfwood and the man.

"Leave him," you say lowly to Wolfwood, whose hackles are raised.

Wolfwood isn't looking at you, he's looking at the man behind you and his eyes are hard and cold and mean looking.

"Nick," you say, "I don't want a bar fight."

"Worried he can't handle me?" The man asks, "no wonder you were letting me chat you up."

Wolfwood jerks a little in your hold and Vash speaks up, laughing a little, "no reason to fight! Wouldn't want to clean you up off the floor."

Well, that does it.

The man swings on Vash, who yelps a little, but easily evades him. When he ducks, the man connects with another person behind Vash.

Damn it all.

The bar breaks out in pandemonium. Wolfwood shoves you beneath him and Vash works on ducking and diving out of the way of the first few swings sent his way. Shouting and glass shattering, raining down from above, makes you curse.

Wolfwood dodges the first punch thrown his way and he shoves you out of the way, before he takes a swing himself. When he connects, it's a nasty punch. Blood erupts.

Food is getting thrown. Alcohol sailing overhead, soaking the fighting crowd and angering them further. The poor bartender is hiding, ducking behind the counter and shivering.

You clamber atop the bar to get a look and—it's a wild crush of people, fighting and wrestling and breaking glass over each other's heads.

You put your fingers to your mouth and whistle—the loud, piercing kind that usually gets everyone's attention. This time, there's so much noise and shouting, that not a soul stops their fighting.

You pull out one of your pistols.

The shot thunders in the bar, makes your ears ring.

Everyone gasps and yells in surprise, instinctively ducking, covering their heads. But they all finally turn to look at you.

"Everyone out!" You shout, "take your fighting elsewhere!"

Grumbles erupt. But you hold up your pistol and shout again, with more force and fire, "out!"

The bar begins to stir, all the patrons dislodging and shifting about, detangling themselves from their fights. They meander in knots of people, twisting out the door slowly.

When Vash and Wolfwood appear again, they look disheveled and Vash's lip is busted. Wolfwood's sunglasses are shattered. You put your hands on your hips as you look down at them.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with you two?" You snap.

Wolfwood reaches up to lift you right off the bar and back onto the ground in front of him. He shrouds you, "nurse our wounds?" He asks.

"You're a pain in the ass. I told you I didn't want a bar fight."

"He didn't throw the first punch, in his defense." Vash speaks up, but he's talking sorta funny because of his lip, which is swelling even now.

You sigh, "let me see."

Vash siddles up to you, a little sheepish, with that puppy-dog look on his face. He bends down a little, so you can get a better look at his face, dipping his head down in a show of submission.

Woflwood, behind you, whistles. "That's a good one, blondie."

"Hurts." Vash says as you carefully inspect it, debating if he'll need stitches or not.

"You gonna kiss it better?" Wolfwood asks.

"Why don't you?" You snark back, "since you two are finally working together it seems."

Vash smiles a little, which makes him wince, which makes you scold him. Wolfwood laughs, cooing a little, before he says, "alright, alright—lets get him patched up."

And you walk out with them at your skirts, hovering around you, dogging your steps. They follow you all the way back into your little room at an inn on the edge of the world.

And they settle in like they both own the damn place.

Wolfwood is tormenting Vash a little, whose whining and coming to your side for aid. But they're both—getting along, at least. And they're both demanding all your attention and taking up space in your room and—

And you adore them. You adore both of them, even with all their damn dogfights.

[hawkinasock]

haiii pls spill abt ur chimera yq ideas... i have my own (https://www.tumblr.com/waterfrontcomplex/758520749229277184/dunmeshi-chapter-37ep-17-spoilers-look?source=share)

i also drew my own idea of him (swallow + abundant deer)

Yes ofc!! I'm so happy that someone else has had this idea too, it has so much potential. I want to see all the chimera Yanqings.

Mine looks like this. I actually didn't have a design drawn out for him initially, so I had to whip something up quickly. That's why it took me so long to answer </3

Originally, he had a more swallow-based design.

I still really like it, but I changed the lore a lot, so I made the new one, the current au, which goes something like this:

(CW for blatant body horror, descriptions of digestion, as well as brief details regarding real world animal death)

Here's my idea. Like most aeons, Lan The Hunt has emanators that carry out their will. One of these emanator's is currently unnamed and without a solid design yet. It has an animalistic appearance in my head. Imagine Feixiao's inner beast, or the Mourning Aix from WuWa. That'll give you the best reference.

It travels the cosmos, tracking down and eliminating the Abundance. it does this with the use of extremely powerful olfactory cells. Even with galaxies separating them, the emanator can detect abominations through smell alone, and when it finds one, it will consume it to ensure it cannot possibly regenerate.

Suffice to say, it's very good at its job, and Yanqing, unfortunately, is not an exception to their heightened senses. Surprisingly to no one, Abundance Yanqing coexists with this au, and he is immediately recognized as an abomination when the emanator is in proximity of the Luofu. Yanqing is unaware of his status as an spawn of Yaoshi, so when the devourer of monsters (working title) visits the Luofu, he never would have expected it to turn its eyes onto him.

To say the Luofu is thrown into chaos when one of Lan's emanator's eats a Liuetenant of The Hunt is an understatement. The emanator insists no mistake has been made and it is justified through Lan's divine will. It actually shifts the blame onto Jing Yuan for assigning an abomination as his Lieutenant in the first place, citing incompetence on his part. Kind of a shitty thing to do after eating the man's son but okay...

Not long after, the emanator starts to... change. It begins experiencing sudden and visible signs of mara: bouts of aggression, delirium, and eventually flora and fungus sprouting from its flesh. It's incorrectly concluded that Yanqing's death was a result of early unset mara in the emanator, and Jing Yuan decides the emanator has to be killed via decapitation, such is their duty as followers of The Hunt.

You can probably guess where this is going.

So, you know how bones are capable of fusing together or into other objects during the healing process? Like that deer that was shot by an arrow and the ribcage actually fused itself with the arrow? That's essentially how chimera Yanqing is born.

As an abomination, Yanqing is capable of postmortem regeneration, and as an abomination that is particularly favored by Yaoshi (in my delusional mind) his regeneration capabilities far exceed that of the average denizen, and one this emanator's digestive system was not capable of overriding.

Much like how that deer bone fused with the arrow, Yanqing's body begins the process of fusing back together after partial consumption, and during that process, he inadvertently fuses with the emanator's body, which triggered those mara symptoms. Additionally, because there had also been remains of other denizens in the emanator's stomach, they were unintentionally included in the revitalization process. This, in the end, gave the chimera's body the claws of a Borisin, the wings of a Wingweaver, and the head of a human (his body structure is also the same as the Houyhnhnm, but that's obviously a coincidence on my part lol).

The flowers and mushrooms don't really serve any other purpose besides looking pretty and emphasizing his connection to the abundance - his power is so palpable that life is literally sprouting through his skin. I just think it's kinda neat.

Anyways, in terms of psychological aftereffects, Yanqing himself is still there. However, his sense of self is muddied and most of his memories suppressed. Because he's at the head, he's in control of his own movements and actions. Usually, he's completely docile, but in the face of people currently trying to kill him, he becomes confused and scared, and fights back in self-defense. He's also experiencing prolonged dysmorphia from his new form, which causes him greater confusion and even pain.

For Jing Yuan? I think everyone would agree he wouldn't want to kill Yanqing. He believes there's still a way to reverse Yanqing's affliction, even if the Ten Lords insist otherwise.

Currently I don't have an detailed outline of what happens next. My current ideas are similar to yours actually, where the disciples take an interest in Yanqing for whatever reason, be it desperation to stop the Luofu from killing him and seeing him as blessed by Yaoshi, what have you. It could honestly go a similar route as Dvalin's manipulation by the hands of the Abyss. If I were to give this au a happy ending, I could incorporate the Viscorpus' ability to shapeshift and have Yanqing hone that ability, allowing him to regain his human form.

That's all I have for what was meant to be a short, detailed summary </3 All these asks always end with me yapping, forgive me. I've had this au cooking in my head for so long now, and I'm glad I have an excuse to spurge about it now.

(p.s. pls make more of your chimera au, I would eat it up)

[ctheathy]

Hello, I hope you have a nice day! , I would like to request a headcanons of yandere nine x reader being kidnapped by doctor eggman

Yandere Nine w/ Darling who got kidnapped by Robotnik

Nine x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Short Concept

Author's note: You, my dear reader, are all out for the drama and I'm here for it~!

Nine/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Possessiveness • Nine is so traumatized omfg- • Eventual PTSD • Age regression • Overprotective behaviour • Poor mental state • Paranoia • Emotional dependency • Trust Issues • Insomnia • Violence

Pfft. If Nine wasn't already considered severely unhinged before, he most certainly will be right now. Oh how much terror the fox would feel in the pits of his stomach, the horror in his eyes, the helplessness in his heart. He most certainly would have never allowed this to even remotely come forward if he were the one to be in your presence. But... he wasn't. The whole team would have felt this immense sense of hesitance and dread to even tell him about it, having noticed his attachment and emotional bond towards you... and when the words slip from Sonic's mouth, not ready to test the nine-tailed foxes’ impatience, he cracks. And not just any regular burst of anger, he has a complete mental breakdown.

Nine will be nothing less than a ball of angst and fright at this point, something which he desperately tried to cover up with an infuriated facade, despite his evident worries from your abduction. But none of that would matter in the end, because he'd behave completely berserk one way or another. He doesn't dare rest or waste time for that matter until he can hold you in his arms again. Likely as soon as they reach The Chaos Council to try and bring you back... Nine would not hold himself back, still taken over by his violent meltdown. Instead of trying to avoid the Council's eyes and enemies that are in the way, maintaining a low profile as he'd say, he releases all of that pent up malice.

Though he'd leave many of the his robotic opponents onto the grounds ...torn to scraps by the fierce abilities of his mechanical tails, Nine would be surprisingly merciful to any living mobian for the sake of getting answers on where you're being held hostage. Because remember; although venting out some of his frustrations during the fight was equal to his hostility towards those who just so happened to be in his way, this mission is not and never will be about assassinating every enemy he comes across for the sake of just hurting them. It's all just to release you from The Chaos Council's grasp, take you back to his workshop where you rightfully belong ...bring you back to him. An objective and promise he will never allow himself to forget ever again after seeing your frightened face and body.

Even after he does get you back to the team, and he will no matter the costs or sacrifices he has to offer. But although you're back home, safe.... His paranoia will continue to linger and remain at its highest. Though the wounds you obtained through your abduction will eventually heal, his trauma of your kidnapping won't for a very long time. The side affects seemingly starts off small through your perspective, and you probably wouldn't even know how much it deep down affected him. Especially as the amber fox just seems to want to stick closeby you, seeking for comforting reassurance and some guidance to get himself back on the right track, which you more than understand and accept with open arms.

But what if I told you that he just got much, ...much more insane and delusional than you may think after you got taken away like that. It was like a newborn kitten being taken away from its mother right after birth, one whom he'd desperately cry out to and crawl after. To Nine, it wasn't just the idea of losing that happiness of having somebody to care about, but this also re-activated his defense mechanism to his past trauma.

Kill or be killed.

Nine's whole mentality practically returns to that of his younger self, almost similar to an age regression... You'd probably also notice the changes in demeanor, how he's practically almost behaving like a juvenile again. Decisions are made more so out of instinct rather than rational, logical thoughts. Which, to you, is something completely foreign and out of character for Nine.

His overprotective impulses would kick in at full force and he'd be quicker to lash out, along with his pessimistic mentality and stress being multiplied in the process, which is something his already poor mental state is absolutely not emotionally capable of handling. Even with you just not being in his eyesight can leave Nine with severe anxiety. His emotions are quicker to flow over, resulting in either anger outbursts or crying... And he practically treats you as if you were actively dying from a disease, constantly thinking of and mentioning the “what ifs”.

There would be many restless nights where he wakes up in the middle of the night, teary-eyed after a dream vision or isn't even capable of drifting off into a slumber at all. The simple thought of you ending up hurt and scarred while he wasn't there to protect you keeps his nerves excessive and senses on constant high alert. Even just the consideration in itself can leave him in a condition of hysteria for the next half hour, unable to calm himself down. These sudden exchanges of panic making you realise just how inconsistent it is, as Nine was usually known as collected, self-assured... in control of the situation. Something you'd consider the other side of the coin of how he was operating at this very moment. A complete and sudden reverse swap in his very identity.

Making you pray... that this was a crutch you could hopefully help him grow out of

[seresinhangmanjake]

I've Promised You Forever

Dad!Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female reader

Summary: Jake and his Honey are married!

Notes/Warnings: None, really.

Words: 2454

Oh, Baby Series

---

“You’re less nervous than I expected,” Rooster said, his eyes meeting Jake’s in the mirror as they adjusted their bowties in sync. 

They’d been up for hours, the whole house alive and bustling as people put things in place. Phoenix, his mother, and Gram stayed by your side, but the rest of his team set about accomplishing their own tasks. Coyote was on decorations. Payback on flowers. Fanboy on the cake—probably not the best of ideas if they wanted it arriving without a bite taken out of the side. Bob had Eve. And Rooster, with the exception of occasionally checking on the others, had remained with Jake. 

“Am I?” Jake asked, but in truth his friend was right. He wasn’t nervous. From all that led up to this day, he found no reason to be.

“For this being the day you marry the love of your life? Yes, I would say you’re surprisingly calm.” Done with his tie, Rooster turned to eye the side of his friend’s face. “I mean, I know this is literally happening in your own backyard, but it’s still a big deal.”

Jake finished messing with the bow and his hand landed on Rooster’s shoulder, giving it a few pats. “Of course it’s a big deal. I’m not denying that.”

“Ok, then why—”

“How is she doing?”

Rooster paused at the sudden shift, but adaptable as he was, he adjusted quickly to the randomly tossed question. He thought over his answer, then his brow lightly pinched, his head tilted to the side, and he said, “Actually…no more nervous than you.” He shook the confusion off his face. “I don’t get it. I’d be freaking out right now, but I guess I’ll chalk it up to you two already facing such a hefty amount of trials and tribulations together that you’re numb to nerves.”

Jake chuckled. That hefty amount was no joke. Nothing about you and Jake managed to edge along the conventional route. Not how you became a family. Not how you developed as a couple. Not how you chose to marry. Your relationship was forced through more than most, and at the end of the day, it was being one another’s rock in a sea of utter chaos that made it all survivable. 

More challenges would find their way to his family, Jake knew. No one was immune. But come hell or high water, you and Jake proved to be unbreakable, and that wasn’t going to change. 

“She looks incredible, though,” Rooster continued. “You’re going to lose your mind.”

—

“How do you feel? Are you nervous? Can you believe you’re finally going to be married?” All questions shot from Jake's mother as she straightened out the veil attached to your loose bun. “It feels so different being a wife. But I know you’re the best possible woman for my son.”

You turned your head to meet her eyes and you smiled. “Thank you, Eliza.”

She rounded you and took your hand in hers, lightly squeezing. “I know you and Jake have had a rather unique journey, but if anything, I believe that proves how much you are meant to be together.”

You grinned and nodded in agreement. Unique was right. In every way. From the moment you met, you knew your path together would not be straight. It would have its twists and its turns, as it eventually did. But that jagged road the two of you had wobbled along trained you and Jake to accept being different. And in being different, you were more than happy to throw out rules and expectations, instead choosing to do exactly as you wanted whenever you wanted to do it. 

That habit was demonstrated perfectly the night prior when Jake snuck back home despite his mother’s and friends’ insistence on not seeing his bride before the wedding. He’d waited until his team fell asleep at Rooster's, then drove back to his house, kissed his daughter’s forehead, and snuggled up to you in bed, not caring about the scolding once his absence would be discovered come morning; a scolding that came in the form of his Gram's small hand smacking into his shoulder. 

A sudden knock at the door was followed by the peeking of Nat’s head into the room. “You ready?” she asked. “Rooster is about to go down the aisle with Eve.” 

You grinned at the thought of the job you’d assigned your friend, which he’d accepted with an unexpected excitement. And thankfully you’d enlisted Payback as photographer so you’d get to see for yourself the six-foot tall wall of a man holding an infant and a basket of flower petals in his arms as he made his way towards Jake. 

And then it would be your turn.

"Ready," you confirmed. 

—

Under any other circumstances, Jake would’ve chuckled. He would’ve taken the opportunity to tease his friend the way his friends so often teased him. But as he watched Rooster carry his baby girl down the aisle, doing his best to hold her close and help her drop light pink petals along the pathway, Jake couldn’t help but smile. 

Eve was content in his arms. She was peaceful, as if she knew it was a joyful day over anything else. She hadn’t cried without Mama and Daddy, Bob informed him. She didn’t fuss when made to put on her white tulle dress or slide the headband into her wispy hair. So when she reached the end of the aisle, in appreciation Jake bent down to place a kiss on her forehead before Rooster took his position to the left of his shoulder. 

“Deep breath,” Rooster muttered as everyone in their seats stood and turned. 

His mother’s arm was linked with yours while she guided you past your friends toward him. The smile you displayed was ear to ear. Bright. Vibrant. But his mother’s took up nearly half of her face; wide with lips pulled back so far the corners caught her tears before they could reach her chin. 

She’d thanked him a million times the week before. Despite becoming so prominent in Jake’s life, she had the lingering sense that at any moment, he would cut her out again. She felt it an honor to be at her son’s wedding, to walk the woman he loved down the aisle and hand her over so he could call his little family complete. Though, rings on fingers and vows from lips were not a symbol of completion, not for him. He’d been complete from the moment you came back into his life with his baby girl strapped to your chest. 

Jake’s eyes remained locked on you as you neared. Each of your steps came with a matching thump of his heart. He’d never tire of seeing you come to him; the anticipation of having you close and holding you in his arms, even when simply being greeted after a long day at work. Still, this was a bit more—an acknowledgment in front of everyone he loved that he could officially call you ‘wife’ whenever and wherever he wanted—and he pressed his heels into the ground to keep from bouncing on his toes. 

Once you were close enough that he could catch your flowered perfume, Jake took your hand from his mother and raised it to his lips to brush a soft kiss over the back. “Hi, Honey," he whispered, intertwining your fingers. You gave your bouquet over to Phoenix then took his other hand, mirroring the weaving of fingers. 

A subtle pink tinted your cheeks. “Hi."

“Alright,” Gram clasped her palms together. “You kids ready to be married?" 

Your teasing smile sent a zing down Jake’s spine and he returned it with a wink. 

"I'll take that as a yes," she said, then called to the small crowd, "You can all be seated and we'll get this show on the road."

His ears felt full of fuzz as his grandmother began to speak her practiced lines; the ones she’d run over with him a hundred times to make sure they suited his wishes, despite him telling her just as many times that whatever she would say would be perfect. Jake knew he’d be solely focused on you anyway, taking away from his ability to fully absorb her words. 

Her voice was a consistent humming in his ear, and not until she lightly nudged him in the arm did he snap out of the glowy haze you’d surrounded him in to realize it was his cue. 

“Right,” he said, clearing his throat. When you giggled his lips curved upwards. “Honey…” he started but then paused to stare again, just for another moment. At how amazing you were. At how beautiful, wrapped in a dress that hugged every dip and swell of your figure, with the soft style of your hair, and the red shade painting your lips. He was already imagining the marks of your kiss all over his body. 

Then sensing the flush of his skin and the sting of oncoming tears, he swallowed to try to hold himself together. His fingers squeezed yours tighter. 

“Honey, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it forever,” he began. “I love you. I love everything you are. Everything we are. I love the work and the struggles and the progress we’ve made to have what we have. I love our baby girl.” A tear slipped down your cheek that Jake reached up to brush away with his thumb before taking your hand again. “The two of you are my gift. My world and my heart. You own a piece of me that I never want you to give back,” he continued. “And I wake each morning thankful that you were so strong when having our Eve. I thank you for being so brave when you chose to come back into my life," he said. "You’re everything and all of it, Honey.”

Your thumb stroked over his, then you pulled his hand closer to press a kiss to the digit. “Jake,” you sniffled. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it forever.” He snickered at the familiar line before allowing a smile that matched yours to take over his face. “We were never a mistake. We weren’t a matter of convenience or simplicity. We weren’t a shot in the dark,” you said. “I believe that someway, somehow, this is where we would have inevitably found ourselves. Standing here, with our baby beside us, husband and wife. This is how it was always meant to be. And I know that in my soul.

"I love you," was a clear statement from your lips. "You are mine, Jake Seresin. You’re everything and all of it.”

Your radiating love filled him fully and he settled comfortably into the warmth that spread through his veins. Then he heard another sniffle, just to his right.

“Goodness,” Gram breathed as she wiped at a fallen tear. “You two…” She shook her head; took another breath. “Rings?”

Bob reached around Rooster to hand your ring to Jake as Phoenix slipped his into your palm. The exchange of bands rebloomed the flutters in his stomach. Then before Gram could get out her next instruction, Jake framed your face with his hands and joined your lips in a long kiss. 

“I love you, Honey,” he muttered between one soft kiss and the next. “Always.”

—

The evening had passed in the blink of an eye, but you didn’t miss a single detail of how the day unfolded. Each bit of it utterly perfect. Each moment more precious than the last. You couldn’t say you woke that morning with any expectations other than to enjoy your friends and family, but now that it was nearing its close, you realized everything far surpassed what you could’ve ever hoped for. A wedding had the potential to bring some chaos, as did most things during your and Jake’s relationship, but it was nothing other than smooth and easy. Everyone you cared for was by your side. Your daughter was happy in the company of those who loved her most. And you and Jake were together. All as should be.

Under the low glow of the fairy lights woven through the trees, you and Jake swayed to the gentle music. With your head resting on his shoulder, your arms around one another, you watched your friends and family enjoying themselves. Laughing, joking, teasing each other. They took turns dancing with your daughter in their arms, dancing with each other, or their dates. Rooster’s in particular–your friend and coworker—had her eyes glued to him and a blush across her cheeks as he rocked Eve back and forth while slowly moving about the installed dance floor. 

"You still feel alright with not telling them?" Jake’s voice was suddenly low in your ear, far from able to be heard by your guests with you being off to the edge of the wooden flooring. 

"That we've been married for months?” you asked. “Yes, I imagine it's still best we keep that to ourselves."

“I agree,” Jake said with a chuckle. "Think of the drama we'd face from our devastating betrayal."

"I know. I can't believe how selfish we are." 

He hummed. “You know, if you really think about it, by not telling them we are actually sparing them the pain and trauma.”

"That’s very true."

Jake chuckled again, a vibration from his chest to yours, and hugged you closer. A moment later you lifted your head to meet his eyes and smiled at your husband. The man who had been your husband for one hundred and twenty-six days, officially tied exactly three days after he slid that engagement ring onto your finger. You’d planned on waiting, but not seventy-two hours later, as you laid beside one another in bed, skin still damp with sweat and chests rising and falling in heavy breaths, Jake suddenly flipped on his side, cupped your cheek, and said: ‘What if we do it tomorrow?’. The rapid expelling of the question made you realize he had been thinking about it as much as you had. You’d instantly agreed, smiled, kissed, and spent the rest of the night wrapped around one another. The next morning you were married, and maintained the agreement that no one else needed to know. The two of you would know. And that was enough. 

"No,” you reaffirmed, brushing a stray lock of his blond hair back into place. “I think I like having our little secret."

Jake paused the movement of your bodies and, with a grin, said, "So do I, Honey." Then he placed his hands on your cheeks, just as he had earlier in the day, and once again drew you in for a kiss.

---

A/N: I hope it was ok :)

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @cinderellasmissingshoe @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @novagreen04 @multifandomlover4life @mayhemmanaged @memeorydotcom @ryiamarie

[kckt88]

Wings of Departure Epilogue.

Summary:

'I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone' - J. R R Tolkien

Warning(s): NONE

AEMOND x O.C

Word Count: 1542

A.N - Aemond and O.C say FUCK THIS SHIT!!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

Vaena stood at the edge of the training yard, a serene smile gracing her lips as she watched her family. The sun cast a warm glow over the scene, its rays highlighting the vibrant energy and joy that filled the air.

Aemond, his brow furrowed in concentration, guided Aerion through his sword drills with a blunt metal sword. At the age of eight, Aerion moved with surprising agility and determination, his small frame echoing his father's stance.

Aemond’s commands were clear and encouraging, each movement and parry a lesson in both skill and discipline.

Nearby, the twins Saella and Saeryna, clapped and cheered with every successful strike Aerion made.

Rhaegar, not yet old enough to fully participate, waved his small wooden sword with earnest enthusiasm. Every so often, he would glance at Aemond, seeking approval.

The proud father, never missing a beat, would speak words of praise and encouragement, his eye twinkling with affection and pride.

In Vaena’s arms, their youngest, Daena at a year old, slept soundly, her tiny face nestled against her mother's shoulder. Drooling softly in her peaceful slumber.

The training yard of the Manse was alive with a joyful chaos—children learning, playing, and growing under the watchful eye of their father. The sight of them all together, so happy and full of life, brought a warmth to Vaena’s heart that she cherished deeply.

As Aemond continued to guide Aerion, his occasional glances towards his family spoke volumes of his love and pride. Vaena could see the joy in his eyes, mirrored by the pure adoration of their children. It was a simple moment, a slice of normalcy amidst the turmoil of their lives, but it was one that made her feel profoundly grateful.

Vaena leaned against the balustrade of their home, her gaze drifting over the city’s shimmering skyline as memories of the past five years flickered through her mind. It felt like a lifetime since she and Aemond had fled King’s Landing, leaving behind a world of turmoil and betrayal.

The journey across the Narrow Sea had been a long one, but their escape had been a daring success. They had landed in the cities of Tyrosh, Volantis, and Astapor, each place leaving its own mark on their lives.

They marvelled at the bustling markets, exotic spices, and the diverse cultures that each city offered. Yet, it was Qarth that had captured their hearts.

The city was like something out of a dream. Buildings in hues of rose, umber, and violet seemed to shimmer in the warm sun, creating an otherworldly beauty that was impossible to forget.

Fountains shaped like mythical beasts adorned every open square, and the streets were lined with statues of bronze, each telling its own silent story. The opulence of Qarth was a stark contrast to the chaos they had left behind.

The ruler of Qarth had greeted them with open arms, no doubt enchanted by their dragons. In return for their grand lodgings, befitting their status as Targaryen royalty, Aemond and Vaena agreed to have their dragons guard the city and act as a deterrent against any potential thieves passing through the Jade Gates.

The dragons thrived in the warm climate and abundant food of the Jade Sea. Vhagar, in particular, revelled in the sun-soaked days, often found basking on a sandy dune, contentedly napping.

Cannibal, though still fearsome, had developed a surprisingly tender bond with Silverwing, who in turn had delivered another clutch of eggs. The arrival of the eggs had meant that each of their children were now blessed with a companion of their own, the skies of Qarth often alight with the sounds of hatchling dragons learning to fly and hunt.

News from Westeros had trickled in slowly. Rhaenyra had claimed the Iron Throne, and Aegon had been executed—a mercy killing at Daemon's hands, as the rumours suggested, although the same couldn’t be said for those charged with treason.

The fallout from Aemond's moon light flit had been significant. Rhaenyra, enraged by the escape was convinced that Alicent had tipped him off, and had her confined to her chambers, only allowing a septa to attend her.

Helaena and Jaehaera had been spared, and so had Daeron, who had joined the Queens Guard. Aemond scoffed when he heard the news, declaring it as a way for Rhaenyra to keep his little brother under her control, but deep down Vaena knew he was glad that they were alive.

Despite the tension and anger at Vaena’s role in Aemond’s escape, Rhaenyra had demanded her return. Her threats to force Vaena back to Westeros had been met with defiance.

Vaena had abdicated her claim as heir to the Iron Throne in favour of Jacaerys, a gesture that did nothing to calm Rhaenyra’s wrath.

The Queen's growing impatience had been tempered by Lord Corlys, who wisely noted that antagonizing Qarth so early in her reign would be unwise.

Reluctantly, Rhaenyra had been forced to let go of her demands, although she later tried to claim that Aemond had been exiled from Westeros indefinitely, which was obviously an attempt to save face and quell any demands by Aegon’s supporters for Aemond to be crowned King.

As the training session drew to a close, Aemond wiped the sweat from his brow and walked over to where Aerion and Rhaegar were putting away their practice weapons.

He placed a reassuring hand on Aerion’s shoulder, giving him a nod of approval. "Rhaegar, help your brother with those," he instructed, watching as Rhaegar eagerly complied, his small face alight with concentration.

With the training gear stowed away, Aemond made his way over to Vaena, who was standing near the edge of the training yard. He placed a hand on the back of her head, and pressed a tender kiss to her cheek.

His other hand gently caressed the curve of her belly, feeling the warmth of their sixth child growing within. “You should be resting,” he murmured softly, his breath warm against her skin. “It’s quite hot today.”

Vaena smiled up at him, her eyes filled with love and a touch of defiance. “I wanted to watch you train. Besides, I’m fine.”

Aemond’s gaze softened as he lifted the sleeping Daena from her arms. The little girl stirred slightly but remained peacefully asleep.

He cradled her carefully, then motioned for the children to come inside. The training yard was quieting down as they gathered around him.

Vaena turned to the maids, instructing them to prepare cool baths for Aemond and Aerion. The heat of the day had been intense, and a refreshing bath would be a welcome relief.

“And it’s time for Saella and Saeryna’s embroidery lessons,” she added, knowing full well their reluctance. The twins groaned but followed the maid with as much grace as they could muster.

Rhaegar, ever the enthusiastic artist, asked for some colouring materials to occupy his time. “I want to colour!” he announced, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Vaena chuckled and handed him a few sheets of parchment along with some vibrant crayons.

Meanwhile, Daena was gently placed in her crib, her form nestled comfortably beneath soft blankets. As she continued to sleep, Vaena took a moment to catch her breath and enjoy the calm after the bustle of the training session.

Vaena stepped into the bathing chambers, the cool, fragrant air providing a welcome respite from the heat of the day. She moved gracefully to the edge of the large, sunken tub where Aemond was reclining in the water.

The bath was filled with petals from fragrant flowers and the gentle scent of lavender, soothing and calming.

She settled beside the tub on a cushioned seat, her hand trailing through the cool water as she watched Aemond. He glanced up at her, his eyes noting the slight shadow of contemplation on her face.

“You seem a bit subdued,” he remarked, his tone laced with concern. “Is everything alright?”

Vaena looked at him, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I was just wondering,” she began, her voice soft, “are you happy with how your life has turned out?”

Aemond’s brows furrowed slightly as he regarded her. “What’s prompted this question?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

Vaena shrugged gently, her fingers still skimming the water’s surface. “Just curious,” she replied with a small smile. “Sometimes it’s good to reflect.”

Aemond shifted in the bath, sitting up and taking her hand in his. He raised it to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her fingers, his gaze steady and sincere.

“I can honestly say that I’m more than happy with our life,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “I have the family I’ve always wanted. You and the children mean everything to me. After everything we’ve been through, this—” He gestured around them, the serene setting and the gentle hum of family life “—this is everything I could have dreamed of.”

Vaena’s eyes softened as she listened to him, her heart swelling with love and contentment. “I’m glad,” she murmured, squeezing his hand gently. “I’m glad we’ve found this peace together.”

Aemond gave her a reassuring smile, his expression filled with affection. “Me too,” he said, his voice tender. “I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

[floofeh-purpi]

Zzz. (100 FOLLOWERS SPECIAL!)

Sagau! Childe x Gn! Sick! Creator! Reader.

『Beloved fluffball/s mentioned below! 💜』

@justmare @mc-cos-charm @keirennyx @fantasticarcadefan @catratnap

☆

A/n: OMG '5 W'S AND 1 H' BE DAMNED IM SO HAPPY THANK YOU GUYS FOR MAKING ME REACH THIS MILESTONE WHATSS!!!!!

Warnings: Fluff and Childe comforting you! <3, and the shortness of this... 💀👍

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

The Creator was not accustomed to weakness. As the divine being who birthed the world from chaos, they had always been a beacon of strength, their power as boundless as the cosmos. Yet, here they were, shivering beneath a mound of blankets, their once radiant form dimmed by fever.

Childe, the 11th of the Fatui Harbingers, was an unexpected presence in this sterile, divine chamber. His ginger hair, usually a stark contrast against the pristine white of the room, seemed somehow softened by the dim light. His eyes, the color of stormy seas, held a depth of concern that was both unfamiliar and comforting.

"You should be resting," his voice, a low rumble, carried a gentle undertone. He adjusted the blanket around the your shoulders, his large hands surprisingly gentle.

You managed a weak smile. "I am fine, Tartaglia. Just a... temporary setback."

Childe's brow furrowed. "You're burning up. You're not fine."

There was a stubbornness in your voice that belied your weakness. "I have created life. I can surely withstand a mere illness."

A soft chuckle escaped Childe's lips. "You're incredible, you know that? Created an entire world, and yet, you're scared of a little fever."

You huffed, but a genuine smile tugged at your lips. "I am not scared."

Childe leaned closer, his breath warm against your face. "Then prove it."

Your heart skipped a beat. Childe's proximity was intoxicating, his scent a mix of salt and something deeper, more alluring. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment for a good sexond or two.

"I... I need you to hold me," You whispered, Your voice barely audible.

Without hesitation, Childe settled beside you, scooping you into his arms. The warmth of his body seeped into you, chasing away the chill. You felt... safe, protected, and for the first time in millennia, truly cared for.

"You're safe here," Childe murmured, his voice a soothing lullaby. "I won't let anything happen to you."

You snuggled deeper into Childe's embrace, your exhaustion finally catching up with you. As sleep claimed you, you felt a sense of peace they hadn't experienced in ages.

In the quiet of the divine chamber, surrounded by the warmth of the Harbinger, you found solace and a love as vast and enduring as the world you had created.

☆

I WROTE THIS IN ADVANCE LOLLERS!! AND ALSO ITS OFFICIAL NOW HAPPY 100 FOLLOWERS TO ME!!! 😭🙌💜

Published: July 28, 2024. 8:54am.

[randomnfandom]

Simon "Ghost" Riley

So I'm still in recovery but its been 2 months and I said I'd give you more stories so here is a short one because I'm not in a state to do my normal long ones

Simon Riley from cod x Reader (You)

Unexpected Acts of Sweetness:

Ghost, with his tough exterior, surprises you with unexpectedly sweet gestures. Whether it's leaving a note with a heartfelt message or picking a flower during a mission, his thoughtfulness melts your heart.

Shy Affection:

Ghost, known for being reserved, becomes a bit shy when it comes to expressing affection. His way of showing love might be a gentle touch, a soft smile, or a subtle glance that speaks volumes.

Shared Snacks:

Ghost has a weakness for a particular type of candy or snack. You both develop a tradition of sharing these treats during quiet moments, turning simple snacks into cherished bonding moments.

Movie Nights:

Despite Ghost's tough image, he secretly enjoys cuddling up for movie nights. You both take turns picking movies, and it becomes a delightful mix of action-packed films and surprisingly heartwarming romances.

Matching Accessories:

Ghost, in his mysterious way, surprises you with matching accessories – maybe a set of dog tags with engraved initials or a pair of subtle matching bracelets. It's his way of symbolizing your connection without being too overt.

Playful Teasing:

Ghost may be serious in the field, but when you're together, he's not afraid to engage in playful banter and teasing. His dry sense of humor emerges, making you laugh and adding a lighthearted touch to your relationship.

Spontaneous Adventures:

Ghost loves surprising you with spontaneous adventures, whether it's a late-night drive to a scenic spot, a surprise picnic, or a sudden decision to explore a new place. These unplanned moments become some of your favorite memories.

DIY Gifts:

Ghost, being resourceful, often makes DIY gifts. It could be a handcrafted piece of jewelry, a small scrapbook of memories, or even a personalized item with a significant meaning. The effort he puts into these gifts makes them extra special.

Taking Photos Together:

Ghost may not be one to smile for the camera, but he indulges in taking photos with you. The candid shots capture genuine moments of happiness, and you both create a scrapbook of memories that grows over time.

Protective Gestures:

Ghost, true to his nature, is protective of you. Whether it's a subtle arm around your shoulder or a reassuring touch, you feel safe and loved. His protective instincts manifest in gentle yet meaningful ways.

In the midst of the chaos and danger, your relationship with Ghost is filled with these cute and endearing moments, making the tough operative reveal his softer, more adorable side.

Hope you enjoyed loves <3

[otomiyaa]

nice.png

(literally how I named the image, couldn't think of something else)

Hi guys :') To my followers and tumblr friends, I'm really sorry if my sudden disappearance scared or upset you. It wasn't quite... planned. And today was a busy day and I needed some time to consider what I wanted to do.

Short version of the story:

My tumblr account got terminated for copyright infringement. A certain Mr. Green got me in unlucky trouble (ref 1, 2).

I won't get it back, or try to get it back. It's gone.

Needed a moment to consider 2 options: ask Mia to extend my dramatic farewell letter and stay gone, or make a new blog.

Not planning to post new writing here. I won't be using words like 'never' or 'forever' because I'm a known clown with things like this, but the intention is to no longer post fics. I will finish Tickletober on AO3 and then take a break from writing. So yes, I cancel the swiftscribbles event too, sorry!

When I opened my laptop, I could see my old blog in its final hour lmao (I found out about the loss on my phone). So that's what the snap is from on a fitting grave. It was fun while it lasted!

Long version of the story:

Losing my blog(s): My Tumblr account with main blog + sideblogs got terminated overnight, it was quite the surprise! I've either been reported or tracked by bots. The posts are a bunch of numbered URLs I can't open, but the message is clear: for including anime content, genshin impact or media from other sources (whether it's videos, screenshots, official art, gifs or even fanwork) you technically can get a strike. Upon googling the claimer I quickly found this first, and knew it was a lost cause. Although it feels shitty and unlucky, I am in no place to appeal. It's like when I used to make AMVs in the past, you never knew whether a song or even anime footage was going to give your YT account a copyright strike or even a ban, it was a gamble. I have lost YT accounts before, and now I lost the Tumblr one. With 7+ years of tickle trash content and a bunch of sideblogs. But oh well, moving on!

Starting a new blog: It was a serious consideration whether this was my ultimate chance to do what I've always said I wanted to do eventually - quit my blog. My first thought was to ask Mia to share my explanation and literal goodbye with you guys, and stick to my chaos of a Twitter account to indulge in fandom stuff. But then I thought of how happy Tumblr made me, even without the fic writing, but just.. reblogging things, getting random asks, shouting about life and of course, about tickles. I decided to make a new blog after all, but also decided the following:

The 7K+ milestone swiftscribbles event is cancelled, for which I apologize! The follower milestone, together with the motivation to write the fics, and even the asks with the requests I got, all died with my former blog.

I will see how long I can survive without posting a new fic or drabble. A loose headcanon or two might fly around sometime. And if necessary, a link to a new fic on AO3.

Tickletober? Hell yes I'll finish it, I would cringe in bed for 49 days at least if I would stop. I just won't post the fics here, but on AO3.

Reposting/reblogging my old works? Undecided at the moment but I'm tired and lazy. I don't feel too upset since most of my fics are still on AO3 at least and not completely gone.

Anyways, I'll see what happens and how long I can enjoy this nerfed version of blogging.

Surprisingly I'm not upset about losing my other blog, there were a lot of memories but it was also very cringe. I'm gonna be just as cringe here, but at least I feel cleansed.

For those who choose to follow me again, thank you, but please know that there won't be much original content coming from me, for now!:)

[scmg11]

KATE BISHOP x READER

Maybe your heart isn’t made of plastic

Summary: Y/N always considered high school an hellhole where you need to fight everyday to survive, especially when Kate Bishop ruled over everything and everyone adored her. Everyone except her. She hated her. So she just tried to lay low and mind her own business, but when a new student arrive at their school, madness follows.

After a revenge plan, everything falling apart and just overall chaos, Y/N hooked up with none other than Kate Bishop. And it just kept happening. The two started hooking up wherever they had the chance and old feelings start to resurface. But would things work out or they would fall apart eventually?

[I got inspired after watching the new Mean Girls movie and after writing a too long oneshot about an original story with Kate, so I decided to create a book.]

-

A/N: HELLO HELLO HELLO BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE! Two updates in a row? I wanted to give you a little gift for being always so patient with me ❤️

Enjoy ❤️ let me know what you guys think ❤️

Sending you love ❤️

-

Chapter 3

"Hey bitch, where were you last night? We haven’t seen you around after that round of shots." Bucky asked quizzically after he and Wanda appeared from beside Y/N as she grabbed the textbook for their first class, making the girl jump slightly at their presence and sighed out dejectedly as she closed her locker and leaned on it with her right shoulder, hugging her book closer to her chest for comfort and trying to act cool as she shrugged.

"Oh yeah, that last round of shots was too much- I was completely gone. I needed to go home." Bullshit. Y/N felt bad for lying to her friends like that but she couldn’t exactly tell them she disappeared from the party because was in Wanda’s bedroom, fucking Kate Bishop, for two hours. Yeah, you read that right. Two hours. They obviously didn’t stop after the first round and went at it for another three before falling on Wanda’s bed around 1 a.m., completely sweaty and spent from exhaustion but with their needs satisfied. They stayed for about a minute staring at the ceiling, their shoulders brushing ever so slightly together as they regained their breaths before moving off the bed and getting dressed in silence. Kate was the first to leave. Y/N watched the door close as Kate left without any other word and sighed out before slumping on Wanda’s bed and diving into the mess that was her mind and think about everything that happened in the those two hours. Her body ached in all the right places and the smile she had on her face was almost hurting her cheeks from how big it was, but she had never felt so good. She shivered as she remembered how greedy Kate was as she devoured her whole body, kissing every inch of her skin and leaving a few hickeys here and there as she pushed her over the edge over and over again. She could still hear Kate’s moans reverberate loudly through her mind as she plunged her fingers in and out of her relentlessly and her tongue still tingled with her wonderful taste. When 10 minutes passed and she opened the door to leave, she found the hallway empty. The music was still blasting through the speakers downstairs but its volume had been lowered around half an hour ago as the party was probably starting to die down. She sighed out happily when she luckily didn’t bump into Wanda or Bucky on her way out because they would’ve figured what she was up to in a millisecond even before she could process what happened herself and left the party.

"Oh no Y/N/N, you missed a lot last night. Like- Bucky finally kissing Steve!" Wanda cheered loudly and slapped Bucky’s left shoulder repeatedly in happiness, who was surprisingly shy all of a sudden as a blush appeared on his cheeks and Y/N stared at him in shock.

"What?! Are you fucking kidding me? Tell. Me. Everything."

And as they started moving to go to their first shared class, Bucky told Y/N how he finally found the courage to talk to Steve and Y/N was shocked, to say the least, to find out that it was actually one of the plastics that helped him out with his crush. "I was pissing myself off. Wanda was trying to convince me to go talk to him since we were exchanging too many yearning looks from afar. But then Natasha appeared out of nowhere. She apparently eavesdropped us and instantly pulled me towards him and presented me to him. We talked for a bit, then danced and before he went home, he kissed me. Can you believe that?"

Y/N smiled fondly at his friend’s dreamy tone and couldn’t help but feel her stomach clench guiltily for her not being there for her best friend as she should have for a moment. But she quickly discarded that. In all honesty, she hadn’t hurt anyone. She deserved some release too. And if it needed to come (no pun intended) from none other than Kate Bishop, then so be it. She was sure it won’t happen again, so she just promised herself to help Bucky from that moment on. No distractions in the middle. They sighed out in exasperation when their professor walked in the classroom and immediately started his boring History lesson with too much enthusiasm for a Monday morning. As time passed frustratingly slow, Y/N was having serious problems on focusing. Not only because she had very few hours of sleep the night prior, but also for the reasons she had very few hours of sleep. Kate Bishop. With her incredible hot, lean and muscular body as it slid deliciously over her own, with her amazing voice as she moaned loudly her name, with her stupidly skilled fingers and mouth as they worked her up into oblivion, with her wonderful taste she had the blessing to savor for two entire hours. Fuck, Y/N needed to pay attention. She won’t let Kate Bishop ruin her grades. So with a resolute sigh, she shook her head slightly and tried to catch what her professor was talking about, but her forced focus on her class lasted about 43 seconds before she heard her phone buzz in her pocket. Y/N took advantage of her professor’s back turned to write something on the board to take her phone out of her pocket and see who just texted her quickly, but immediately tuned her professor’s voice babbling about something she certainly wasn’t considering enough important to listen to as her eyes stared at the text on her phone screen.

Heartless bitch: meet me in the out of order bathrooms at 10:15.

Y/N swallowed visibly as she reread the text another five times to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. She was sure Kate would’ve went back to ignore her or even worst, make her life an even more living hell after what they did the night prior in fear she would spill everything to the whole school. But despite her anger towards the black haired girl for what she did to her, she would’ve kept their secret. She knew Kate wasn’t ready to come out or even acknowledge her sexuality. She was sure she was struggling with that, a lot. So it wasn’t her place in spreading that news to the whole school. Maybe Kate just wanted to talk to her to not say a word about their night together? Even if they hated each other, Y/N would never do something like that to Kate and she would definitely reassure her of that. Even if Kate did the exact opposite to her in middle school. But still- outing people against their will was bad, and Y/N couldn’t do it, not even unconsciously, let alone purposefully. And so Y/N spent the rest of the time in her classes wrecking her mind about a nice way to reassure Kate about how she was gonna keep what they did a secret and that she won’t have to fear being outed. When the bell blasted loudly after her second class, she told her friends she would’ve caught up with them later after she came up with a quick excuse about an art project and then run out of the classroom and sprinted towards an area of the school that was off limits for students because it was being renovated. She arrived luckily just in time after taking a look at her phone screen and noticing it was 10:15, with her chest heaving slightly as she gained some breath from her run. She stashed her phone back in her pocket and took a deep, grounding breath before knocking on the bathroom door that she was sure it was locked, but Kate somehow got the key to get in. "Hey." Y/N smiled softly at Kate when she opened the bathroom and nodded at her in gratitude when she moved aside to let her enter the bathroom, taking a few steps in and then turning around, watching as Kate was in the middle of closing the bathroom door and locking it. She clenched her fists nervously as she waited for the girl to turn around and review quickly her whole speech in her mind before speaking up. "So, listen I-."

Y/N got stopped abruptly when a pair of soft, plump lips crashed onto hers and kissed her greedily, and she widened her eyes comically. Kate’s gesture just took her off guard for just a moment before she finally caught up on what was happening and closed her eyes to reciprocate the kiss with just as much fervor as the black haired girl was putting it into their kiss, while her arms rounded Kate’s waist to hug her closer, while Kate’s own hugged her neck. "Hi."

"Hi." Y/N repeated with a wide smile that morphed into a ‘O’ when Kate moved onto her neck and attacked her skin with open-mouthed kisses, not expecting this outcome from all the scenarios she made up during class after reading Kate’s text.

"We need to be quick. I have Lacrosse practice in 30 minutes." Kate murmured onto Y/N’s lips after she moved up again to start another yet greedy kiss, making the girl finally come back to earth as she registered her words.

"What? Oh- okay, so we’re doing this." Y/N widened her eyes in shock again when Kate, not minding Y/N still in a bit of a daze, slipped her hand under her shirt and bra and cupping her left breast to massage it fervently while the other palmed her ass as her lips focused on her jaw and nipped the skin there. Y/N let out a shuddered breath and closed her eyes, leaning her head back to give Kate more space on her neck and getting lost in the pleasure Kate was already building inside her.

"Touch me." Kate whispered on her ear hotly before wrapping her lips around her lobe and sucking on it hard, eliciting a whine from Y/N, who finally gained control of her mind and body and immediately moved her hands as Kate requested, one going into Kate’s black tresses to pull on her scalp and move her onto her lips forcefully, while the other sneaked under the skimpy black skirt Kate decided to wear that day and cupped her left buttcheek harshly, "oh yes."

"Are you wet for me already?" Y/N panted onto Kate’s lips lowly after pulling away from another intense kiss and moved her hand from Kate’s ass to her front and slid it into Kate’s panties when Kate only whined as a response, finding an already great amount of wetness between her legs. "Hm, the answer is yes."

"Shut up and fuck me. We don’t have too much tiME- FUCK." Y/N smirked cheekily at the girl’s protests and slammed two fingers in her without warning but she had to clash her mouth onto Kate’s one forcefully when she moaned loudly to prevent someone to hear them. In this area no one was around since the renovation works haven’t started yet, but they needed to be cautious anyway to not make someone wander there. Y/N let out a moan herself when Kate whined loudly yet again into her mouth as she pushed her fingers in and out of Kate in an already fast pace into her and sucked on her tongue greedily as she sped up her movements a bit more, not wanting to waste anymore time since they had limited time there. Besides, she wanted- no, she needed to feel and hear Kate come undone because of her once again. It had been the only thing in her mind since the night prior. "Fuck, this is so good."

"Yeah, you are so wet for me- fuck." Y/N moaned softly under her breath and pulled Kate into another sinful, lascivious kiss with her hand still gripping her hair tightly and tentatively laid her palm on Kate’s clit to see her reaction. Her head spun out of control when Kate whimpered in her mouth and pushed her hips down to meet her hand in response, so Y/N quickly pulled her fingers out of Kate before slamming them back in and laid forcefully her palm on Kate’s clit again, shivering when Kate moaned lasciviously at the pleasure invading her body all over again. After kissing fervently for about a minute they had to pull away to take some needed breath and then just sticked to just pant into each other’s mouths as arousal fogged up their minds and made impossible to continue kissing.

"Oh, oh-AH FUCK." Kate whined under her breath as quietly as the intense pleasure Y/N was delivering to her allowed her to, so when she felt she was getting too loud when Y/N curled her fingers in her core and made her almost see stars, she leaned her face into Y/N’s neck to allow herself to moan into it as loud as she could since her sounds of pleasure got muffled by her shirt. "Hm, fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Ah- I can feel your pussy squeezing me so good. Are you close?" Y/N shivered when Kate released another a needy whine in her neck and nodded frantically, pushing her hips down when Y/N slammed her fingers back in forcefully. Y/N smirked at that and moved her hand from Kate’s hair down her ass and squeezed it hard to help her hips with her sloppy movements while curling her fingers once again in her and hearing her wail into her neck, "then let go. Let me feel you come on my fingers." Those filthy words, whispered in a sultry tone into Kate’s ear, coupled with Y/N’s fingers pushing into Kate’s core deeper each time she slammed them back in and Y/N’s labored breath hitting Kate’s exposed neck, made Kate come undone with a loud scream, that she promptly stifled as she bit onto Y/N’s shirt hard. Y/N slowed her fingers’ movements to help Kate ride out her orgasm and stopped them only when she felt Kate going limp into her arms, promptly helping her standing on her wobbly legs with her hand on her ass as she pulled her fingers out of Kate’s panties slowly, making Kate whine softly at the lack of stimulation. She waited for her to pull away from her neck and to meet her eyes before, without breaking their eyes contact, pushing her fingers, wet with Kate’s arousal, into her mouth and sucked them clean. "Hm, so fucking good."

"Fuck." Kate growled under her breath and grasped Y/N’s nape hard to pull the girl towards her and crash their lips firmly, her tongue immediately forcing her way past Y/N’s lips to lick her mouth fervently and taste herself in the process, something that drove Y/N wild as she whimpered into her mouth. Kate sucked on Y/N’s tongue hungrily and pushed her forcefully onto the nearest wall before groping her ass eagerly and grunting into the kiss, "hm, I bet you are dripping wet for me."

"Why don’t you check it out yourself?" Y/N smirked cheekily at Kate and lifted her right eyebrow up seductively at her, driving Kate mad from hot how she looked.

"Gladly." And with an impertinent smile, Kate popped Y/N’s pants button open, slid the zipper down and slipped her hand past Y/N’s pants and underwear to seek out her core, confirming what she assumed with a satisfied whine, "hm, so wet for me." Kate shivered at the loud moan Y/N let out on her lips as she rolled her clit under her middle and ring finger and pushed her hips down needily when she moved her fingers towards her entrance teasingly, "you thought about me this morning, didn’t you?"

"You wish Bishop." Y/N scoffed with a roll her eyes, but opened her mouth in a silent moan right after when the girl slid one finger in tentatively, also moaning out at how easily it slipped in.

"Tell me the truth, or I’m not doing anything." To stress her words out, Kate stopped her slow movements into Y/N’s core and left her still finger in Y/N teasingly as she stared into Y/N’s now dark eyes defiantly, smirking widely when Y/N met her gaze with an unimpressed, mad face.

"Are you fucking serious? I make you come and that’s how you treat me?!" Y/N spat angrily, flaring her nostrils at her as her blood boiled over with anger and sexual frustration and her core clenched hard around Kate’s finger, screaming for her attention.

"Say it and I’ll fuck you." Kate stated and both got pulled into an intense staring contest, both not wanting to back down for about half a minute. Then Kate’s smirk broadened impossibly wide as she watched Y/N’s angry frown slowly morph into a resigned one when she started to crumble under the black haired girl’s will, her core was screaming for Kate’s attention and she was too turned on to put up a fight with the stubborn girl. Kate bit down on her bottom lip to prevent her proud smirk stretch over her features when Y/N sighed out loud and opened her mouth to speak up, waiting patiently for her words.

"You’re insufferable- okay, I thought about our night together, repeatedly. I thought about yOU- OH YES- HOLY SHIT." Y/N moaned out loudly when Kate immediately added another finger in her core and slammed them into her core, starting back up with her movements and building a fast and merciless tempo into her. Y/N widened her eyes almost comically when Kate smacked her free hand over her mouth to prevent her to scream too loudly and eyed her pointedly to reprimand her.

"Shh, someone could catch us." Y/N murmured something in Kate’s hand but the black haired girl didn’t catch it, so she moved the hand away tentatively and asked, "sorry, what was that?"

"I said, it’s rich coming from someone that came so fucking loud a few moments ago." Y/N countered back wittingly, making Kate roll her eyes and slid her fingers intentionally hard into Y/N’s core, and she almost lost her balance as her eyes rolled back and her legs gave out for a moment, but Kate’s arm circling around her waist right away prevented her to fall on the ground.

"Ugh, you’re so annoying. Shut up and let me fuck you." Y/N meekly did after those words and hugged her neck tightly to pull her closer before laying her lips on her cheek to try to muffle her moans. Kate kept on with her movements, delivering to Y/N the best pleasure she ever experienced as she plunged her digits in and out of her harshly, with precise motions that she knew, from the night prior, drove Y/N crazy. A few moments later Y/N whined pitifully onto Kate’s skin when she added her palm into the equation and laid it on Y/N’s clit, taking advantage of her hand moving in and out of Y/N’s center fast and hard to stimulate Y/N’s bundle of nerves repeatedly too. Kate grunted into Y/N’s ear when, after another hard thrust in her center, she felt Y/N tremble under her and immediately repeated the motion, curling her fingers into her a moment later too and she got rewarded by a guttural groan and Y/N pushing her hips down eagerly to increase her pleasure. The air in the bathroom was heavy as it filled with Y/N’s soft, filthy moans and the squelching sounds of Kate’s fingers moving in and out of Y/N, making the two girls bask in the sensual atmosphere that got created. Kate felt her senses being inebriated by Y/N’s perfume and felt her body being covered by hard shivers as her whimpers spilled out of her mouth and sneaked heavenly into her left ear, the need to feel Y/N come undone on her fingers washing over her, so she increased her digits’ speed and tried to push them deeper into Y/N to make her tumble over the edge as fast as possible and panted into Y/N’s ear hotly as lust invaded every cell of her body all over again.

"Fuck Kate, I’m so close." At those words Kate added a third finger and shivered when she felt Y/N’s walls clench impossibly hard around her digits, so she pushed them even faster and smirked knowingly as she got ready for Y/N’s release, hunger for her orgasm increasing each passing second. Kate knew Y/N needed just one more little hard push and she will come undone, so with a renewed determination, she grabbed her left leg to circle it around her waist and then used her hips to push her hand into Y/N harder and deeper. She rocked her hips back and forward with low grunts and as soon as she felt Y/N’s guttural groan of approval, her hips increased their tempo and watched in delight as Y/N’s body got wrecked deliciously. The harsh movements made Y/N’s body bounce up and down in an extremely attractive way and Kate growled under her breath as she took her in, boobs bouncing up and down teasingly as her face twisted in pleasure, "fuck! Fuck-shit! Kate!"

Kate slammed their mouths back together to swallow Y/N’s loud moans as she came onto Kate’s fingers, feeling herself getting wet all over again at the sinful sounds invading her mouth, and slowed her movements by pushing her hand into Y/N gently now, her hips stopping their hard motions in the process, and waited for her to ride out her post-coital wave completely before sliding her digits out of Y/N. She replicated Y/N’s gesture from before and licked her fingers clean while never moving her pointed gaze from Y/N’s eyes and watched delighted as lust filled Y/N’s features all over again as her eyes darkened. As soon as Kate pulled her hand out of her mouth, seductively slowly and never moving her eyes from Y/N’s hungry ones, Y/N clashed their mouth together and sucked on her tongue greedily to taste herself on Kate’s tongue. A few moments later she let her own tongue slid over Kate’s one and both shuddered while whimpering when their releases mixed deliciously in their mouths. They pulled away to take some needed breath and stared into each other’s eyes lustfully for a moment, but when the two girls were about to lean forward and kiss again, Kate took a quick glance at her watch and noticed it was almost time for her lacrosse practice, and gasped before exclaiming in panic, "shit- I’m late!" And so their lustful bubble popped as the black haired girl moved away from Y/N and rushed in front of a mirror to adjust herself. When she was satisfied she looked like she just hadn’t had sex, she turned towards Y/N and watched as she was in the middle of looking presentable too after she took herself off the wall and started adjusting her clothes. "Wait a few minutes before getting out of here."

"Noted." Y/N nodded with a hum as she buttoned her pants again and stretched her shirt gently, but when she just heard silence instead of footsteps walking out of the bathroom, she looked up and found Kate staring at her. She was still standing in her spot in front of the sinks, gazing at Y/N with fire burning in her dark blue eyes and Y/N swallowed visibly, her own eyes widening slightly as they awkwardly stared back at Kate. She suppressed the need to take a step back when Kate charged towards her while staring at her intently, mentally preparing for whatever mean thing Kate wanted to deliver to her. But from all the outcomes she made up in a matter of a second in her mind, she would’ve never been prepared for the deep, full of tongue kiss Kate pulled her in. She just kept on surprising Y/N. They kissed hungrily for a few long moments, gripping at each other tightly as both let out small moans of satisfaction as their releases mixed again into their mouths when their tongues slid over each other greedily and sighed out blissfully into the kiss. They then reluctantly pulled away before they could succumb to their insatiable lust once again and panted hard into each other’s mouths while gazing deeply into their eyes. Kate then pulled away with a proud smirk before walking out of the room like she just didn’t sweep Y/N off of her feet, leaving Y/N frozen in her spot, completely flushed and definitely turned on all over again as she watched Kate saunter out of the bathroom. Her eyes didn’t stare at her ass on her way out. After spending about 15 minutes pulling herself together in the bathroom, Y/N left and locked the bathroom door with a key she wasn’t exactly sure how Kate got it, but she decided to not dwell on that or anything at all since her mind was still a mess as it reeled over everything that had happened in less than 24 hours. She walked carefully out of the area of the school not accessible to students and sighed in relief when she found hallways still empty as everyone else was still in class. She had just a few minutes until the bell would ring, so she sprinted, as careful as she could to not create too much noise and make someone catch her out of class, to Kate’s locker and slid the key through the small holes on top of it. She stopped there, staring at the black haired girl’s locker for about 10 seconds as her mind already drifted back to Kate’s wonderful face twisted in pleasure as she moaned out her name in ecstasy but she shook her head quickly before she caught herself spiraling into really dirty memories and run towards the art room, arriving in front of it just in time before the bell rung loudly into the hallways. She unlocked the door with her key fast and walked in the empty room, took a few deep breaths in to calm herself down from her run before walking out of it, locking the door and then sauntering towards Bucky’s locker a few feet from the art room, finding her best friends already there, chatting animatedly. "There she is." Bucky smirked at Y/N when he met her eyes over Wanda’s shoulder, making the redhead turn around and smile at her sweetly.

"Hey, how is your art project going?"

"It’s coming- I mean- it’s going- pretty good." Y/N slapped herself on her forehead inwardly at her slip up but tried to recover quickly by acting cool and not melting under Bucky’s inquisitive stare, "sorry my brain is not working that good. A lot of brainstorming for, y’know, art."

"You better stop that and focus or coach Martin will make us run 3 more laps today." Y/N groaned at her best friend’s words as he reminded her of their P.E. Class.

"How painful do you think it will be if you two stab my legs with your pencils so I can avoid anything related to sport?" Y/N asked in a serious tone a few moments later as the three of them made their way towards the locker rooms to change into their P.E. uniforms.

"I don’t know, but I’m sure it will be fun. We should try it." Bucky stated enthusiastically, making Y/N roll her eyes and flip him off good-naturedly, while Wanda laughed at their banter, "I’ll see you in a minute." The three best friends parted ways, Y/N and Wanda going into the girls locker rooms while Bucky went into boys locker rooms to change.

A few minutes later coach Martin’s voice boomed through the hallway, telling everyone to join him outside. Y/N had a big frown on her face as she walked out onto the field with Bucky and Wanda, before swallowing loudly when her eyes inadvertently wandered around and found Kate running on the lacrosse field not too far from them. "Alright, everyone- listen. We are going to do something different today. Since a lot of parents complained about you not having more athletic activities on their monthly meeting, I’m making you join the lacrosse team for the girls and the football team for the boys today."

"What?!" Y/N’s attention on Kate shifted on the coach as she registered his words and screeched in disbelief as a bunch of disappointed comments followed, looking instinctively at Kate when coach Martin called her over and watched her jog towards them.

"I’m gonna make sure Steve tackles me onto the ground- y’know for athletic purposes only." Bucky stated in a mischievous, flirty but also quiet tone so only Y/N and Wanda could hear him, smiling and waving charmingly at Steve when he too joined their group like Kate did.

"That was too gay, Buck. Even for you." Y/N commented with a snort, only to choke on it when she moved her eyes onto Kate and found her blue irises already staring at her and subtly checking her out. Y/N had to suppress a whine when she watched hunger glinting into Kate’s eyes as she took her legs in her shorts and imagines of her face contorting in pleasure as she came onto her fingers plagued her mind instantly. It was gonna be a long hour.

After coach Martin gave a few more instructions, he told the girls to follow Kate onto the lacrosse field and do what she instructed them to do while he went with the boys to the football field, "alright ladies, you’re not here to knit a nice and warm pullover here. I want to see some results, so I’m gonna ask you- who is on the verge of crying?" Y/N had to admit Kate looked extremely hot as the captain of the team and bossing everyone around. She already did outside of sport environment and found it annoying, but somehow this was everything but annoying. Especially her uniform, that hugged her in all the right places and she tried to be as subtle as she could as she ogled her greedily, especially her wonderful ass, while trying to listen to her. She snorted at Kate’s question and moved her head around to assess 13 out of 15 girls rising their hands at Kate’s question, only Wanda and her not lifting their hands, and chuckled lowly at that in amusement, "perfect, you’re going first."

Y/N knew she was being cruel, but she couldn’t help but watch entertained as Kate tackled girls after girls onto the ground and even laugh subtly at the ones that cried after that - which were surprisingly a lot. "Oh no, it’s my turn." Wanda exclaimed with her eyes widened in fright, staring at Kate looking at a girl grunting in pain on the ground and Y/N felt her stomach clench in worry at the redhead but also at herself, realizing she was gonna go right after Wanda.

"Hey Wan." Y/N stared curiously at Kate as she jogged towards them and smiled softly at the redhead, "go on the left, I’ll go to the right. Do you remember how to shoot the ball?" Y/N’s stomach flipped at Kate’s adorable, thoughtful gesture as she whispered instructions at her friend, watching Wanda nod and Kate doing the same in satisfaction before running back in her place and signaled the redhead to start moving. What Y/N also noticed was that Kate downplayed her skills a lot when Wanda moved to Kate’s left side while she moved to her right, and smiled widely when Wanda successfully scored a moment later. "See? That’s what I call a good play. Well done Wanda!" Kate exclaimed enthusiastically and high-fived an excited Wanda, while everyone clapped cheerfully at her, including Y/N. "Y/L/N. You’re up."

Y/N gripped the lacrosse stick into her hands hard and took a deep breath, hoping with all her might Kate would behave like she just did with Wanda. She knew it was just wishful thinking a second later, when after running a few feet, she got tackled hard onto the ground as Kate’s laugh boomed from above her as she stared up at her with a mix of pain and anger. "Ohw."

"You were too slow." Kate commented when she kneeled beside Y/N and leaned down to Y/N’s ear to whisper those words with so much cockiness Y/N was fighting against her need to fuck Kate right then and there to prove to her she was far from slow.

"Your pussy would like to disagree." Y/N whispered back in a sultry, cheeky tone, watching delighted as Kate’s face fell for a moment as she swallowed loudly before regaining her cocky expression and getting up quickly, walking away from her without helping her up, just like she did with everyone she tackled on the ground.

"Everyone- let’s start again. Without crying this time."

Y/N waited patiently for everyone to go against Kate, her eyes taking in every detail of Kate’s lean body moving gracefully on the field with practiced movements, involuntarily smiling softly when the black haired girl gloated every time she tackled each girl on the ground. "If you win against her again, I’m gonna protest." Y/N murmured to Wanda when it was almost time for her to go against Kate, pushing her on her shoulder when she heard the redhead giggle at her.

"You’re just jealous because you’re gonna lose again." Wanda taunted good-naturedly and winked at Y/N before getting into position when another groaning girl got up after being tackled by Kate and it was her turn again. Y/N watched as Kate and Wanda shared a knowing look and she rolled her eyes knowingly. She watched Wanda move to the left while Kate went to the right and score, the redhead cheering proudly with Kate smiling at her proudly and she rolled her eyes again in fond exasperation.

"Good job Wanda." Kate high-fived Wanda once again and looked sternly at every other girl to reprimand them for their none-existent skills in lacrosse. "Y/L/N, try to at least run a few more feet this time."

Y/N flipped Kate off at her mocking and gripped the lacrosse stick hard as her body filled with determination to stomp off on Kate’s ego while she snickered at her. So when Kate nodded at her, Y/N sprinted off towards Kate, running as fast as she could and before Kate could tackle her to the ground, Y/N swiftly moved to the side and got ready to score with a wide, gloating smirk on her lips, but her hopes got crushed down right away when Kate’s left shoulder crashed hard between her shoulder blades and she fell face first down on the ground. "Ugh, that hurt."

"Never celebrate before making sure you got away safely." Kate instructed to Y/N with her know-it-all tone then used her foot to turn Y/N around and make her lay on her back so she could look at her gloating smirk.

"Fuck off." Y/N had the strength to lift her head up and send a withering glare at Kate, before slumping her head back down with a pained grunt as she watched Kate walk towards the locker rooms. She then noticed Wanda coming to her rescue a couple of seconds later and she closed her eyes to rest her aching body to murmur in anger under her breath as Wanda approached her, "bitch."

[hanakolikescandy]

𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢, 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚, 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨, 𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢, 𝐀𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐚l𝐞 𝐒/𝐎 :)

Dazai:

1. Dazai finds himself strangely drawn to the reader's innocence and purity, often teasing them with flirtatious remarks just to see their adorable reactions.

2. Despite his aloof demeanor, Dazai secretly enjoys spending time with the reader, whether it's going on whimsical adventures or simply lounging around reading books together.

3. He's surprisingly protective of the reader, always keeping an eye out for their well-being even if he doesn't openly admit it.

4. The reader's presence has a calming effect on Dazai, grounding him in moments of chaos and reminding him that there's more to life than darkness and despair.

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Chuuya:

1. Chuuya initially finds the reader's innocence amusing, often teasing them mercilessly until he realizes how much he genuinely enjoys their company.

2. Despite his tough exterior, Chuuya has a soft spot for the reader, often going out of his way to make them smile with small gestures of kindness.

3. He's fiercely protective of the reader, ready to unleash his wrath on anyone who dares to harm them.

4. Chuuya can't help but blush whenever the reader compliments him or shows him affection, secretly cherishing every moment they spend together.

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Ranpo:

1. Ranpo is immediately intrigued by the reader's uniqueness, finding their innocence and naivety refreshing in a world filled with darkness.

2. He enjoys challenging the reader with riddles and puzzles, relishing in the joy of watching their face light up when they solve them.

3. Ranpo often acts as a mentor to the reader, guiding them through the complexities of the world while protecting them from its dangers.

4. Despite his playful teasing, Ranpo cares deeply for the reader and would do anything to keep them safe and happy.

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Atsushi:

1. Atsushi is instantly drawn to the reader's kindness and innocence, feeling a strong urge to protect them from the harsh realities of the world.

2. He loves spending time with the reader, whether it's going for walks in the park or simply enjoying each other's company at home.

3. Atsushi is incredibly patient with the reader, always willing to listen to their thoughts and feelings without judgment.

4. He often finds himself blushing around the reader, unable to hide his affection for them even if he tries.

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Akutagawa:

1. Akutagawa is initially wary of the reader's innocence, viewing it as a weakness until he realizes how much he admires their purity of heart.

2. Despite his gruff exterior, Akutagawa secretly enjoys the reader's company, finding solace in their gentle presence.

3. He's fiercely protective of the reader, willing to do whatever it takes to keep them safe from harm.

4. Akutagawa struggles to express his feelings for the reader, often resorting to small gestures of kindness to show his affection.

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Kunikida:

1. Kunikida is intrigued by the reader's innocence and purity, finding their outlook on life both refreshing and endearing.

2. He enjoys sharing his love for organization and planning with the reader, often involving them in his meticulous schemes.

3. Kunikida is fiercely loyal to the reader, always putting their needs above his own and going to great lengths to ensure their safety.

4. Despite his strict demeanor, Kunikida has a soft spot for the reader, often letting his guard down around them and showing them a more playful side.

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Ahh my first post! ◡̈⋆ⓎⒶⓎ!(*´∇`)ﾉ

I hope you enjoyed it :D

Requests are open!

[elryuse]

Yandere Gaeul x male reader

SNAP!

YANDERE GAEUL X MALE READER

Y/n gripped Gaeul's hand tightly, his knuckles white. The sterile hospital room smelled faintly of disinfectant, a stark contrast to the vibrant perfume that used to cling to her. The car crash had taken more than just her mobility, it had stolen the bubbly, energetic Gaeul he knew and loved.

"Don't worry," Y/n murmured, his voice rough with suppressed emotion. "We'll get through this together. You'll be back on stage, dazzling everyone again."

Gaeul's gaze, once playful and sparkling, was now a dull echo of its former self. A faint tremor ran through her hand, the only response she gave. Despair gnawed at Y/n. The doctors had been brutally honest; the nerve damage was extensive, dancing an uncertain future before them.

Days turned into weeks, then months. Y/n became Gaeul's constant companion, a rock amidst the storm raging within her. He spoon-fed her, helped her with physical therapy, and listened to her tirades of frustration. Slowly, a flicker of the old Gaeul reappeared, but it was laced with a bitterness that made his heart ache.

One evening, as Y/n helped her into bed, Gaeul's hand snaked around his wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. "Stay," she rasped, her voice a mere whisper.

Fear, a cold, slithering thing, coiled in Y/n's gut. The playful spark in her eyes had been replaced by a dark intensity that sent chills down his spine. He forced a smile, "I can't stay all night, Gaeul. You need your rest."

But her grip only tightened. "No," she hissed, her voice gaining strength. "Don't leave me. You can't leave me now."

Y/n tried to reason with her, but her words were laced with a possessiveness that terrified him. He knew then, with a sickening certainty, that the crash had shattered not just her body, but her mind too.

The tipping point came a week later. Y/n, his own life put on hold, had finally managed to secure a freelance writing job. As he excitedly shared the news with Gaeul, a terrifying transformation unfolded before his eyes.

Her face contorted in rage. "A job? What about me? Who will take care of me? You can't just abandon me now!"

Y/n tried to calm her down, explaining that he needed to work, to build a future for them both. But his words were drowned out by her hysterical screams. It was then he saw it – a glint of steel in her hand, a pair of medical scissors glinting under the bedside lamp.

He backed away, fear paralyzing him. "Gaeul, what are you doing?"

But she was beyond reason, her manic eyes locked on him. "You won't leave me," she shrieked, her voice a chilling parody of their former love songs. "You'll stay with me, forever."

Y/n scrambled back, escaping just as the scissors slashed through the air. The memory of that night haunted him even after he finally managed to leave. The guilt of abandoning her warred with the terror of staying.

Months passed. He moved on, tentatively building a new life, a life without Gaeul. Then, one sunny afternoon, as he strolled hand-in-hand with his new girlfriend, a black pickup truck screeched to a halt next to them.

His heart lurched. He knew, with a chilling certainty, who it was before he even saw her. Gaeul, her face a mask of cold fury, emerged from the truck. Her once vibrant eyes gleamed with a psychotic glint.

"There you are," she purred, her voice devoid of warmth. "I finally found you."

A scream tore from his girlfriend's throat as Gaeul lunged. The world dissolved into chaos. Y/n watched in horror as the woman he loved, twisted by obsession and fueled by madness, took his new happiness away, just as she intended to take everything else.

Gaeul knelt beside him, the cloying scent of her old perfume mixed with the metallic tang of blood now a permanent memory. Her smile, devoid of love, sent shivers down his spine.

"Now," she purred, her voice a chilling whisper, "We'll be forever together".

Y/n's world shrunk to the terrifying reality he now faced. He was trapped, forever bound to a love that had morphed into a monstrous obsession, leaving him with a future as bleak and horrifying as the glint in Gaeul's eyes.

The wedding bells seemed to mock Y/n as he stood stiffly at the altar. The sterile hospital room, the memory of a life stolen, felt a lifetime ago. Gaeul, resplendent in a white gown, beamed a manic smile that sent chills down his spine. Every saccharine vow felt like a knife twisting in his gut. Her possessive hand tightened around his, the diamond ring a cruel reminder of the freedom he'd lost.

The "honeymoon" was a twisted parody of romance. Gaeul clung to him with desperate intensity, her every touch laced with paranoia. Gone were the playful moments, replaced by a suffocating possessiveness. She monitored his every move, his phone calls screened, his emails checked. The world outside their gilded cage was slowly cut off.

Y/n became a prisoner in his own life. He missed the way Gaeul used to smell, a vibrant mix of perfume and backstage dust. He missed the easy laughter they once shared, the way she used to light up a room just by walking in. But voicing any discontent was met with icy glares and veiled threats. He saw a glimpse of the old Gaeul once, a flicker of sadness in her eyes as she watched a couple strolling hand-in-hand on TV. But it was fleeting, swallowed by the monster her obsession had become.

Months bled into years. Gaeul's career skyrocketed, fueled by the dark energy that coursed through her. Y/n, a ghost in her perfect life, became known as "the supportive husband," a carefully crafted image for public consumption. In the dead of night, she'd wake him up in a cold sweat, accusing him of infidelity with fabricated women. Each night, he died a little inside.

One day, a news report sent a jolt through the carefully constructed facade. A forgotten photo of a vibrant Gaeul, before the crash, flashed across the screen. The caption read: "Gaeul's mysterious past: Who was the man by her side?"

Gaeul, the picture of a concerned friend, visited the network demanding the photo's removal. Y/n, watching the news with a detached curiosity, felt a strange tug in his chest. Something about the photo, the way Gaeul's smile seemed genuine… it sparked a faint memory, a feeling he couldn't quite grasp.

Later that night, Gaeul, eyes blazing with murderous intent, stood before him. "You saw it, didn't you?" she snarled.

Fear choked Y/n's voice. "G-gaeul, I swear…"

"Don't lie!" she shrieked, brandishing a vial filled with a clear liquid. "This will take care of those pesky memories."

He watched in horror as she forced the liquid down his throat. The world spun, his thoughts dissolving into a hazy fog. The next morning, he woke up with a blank slate, the past a blurry mess. Gaeul cradled his face, her smile triumphant.

"Now," she whispered, "you'll only remember me. We can finally be happy, forever."

Y/n looked back at her, a stranger in a familiar face. He smiled, a hollow echo of his former self. Gaeul, her twisted love a twisted victory, had finally won. But in the vacant depths of his eyes, a single tear rolled down his cheek, a silent testament to the life, the love, and the man he once was, forever lost in the labyrinth of her obsession.

[half-dead-ham]

With chaos brings Justice

My last entry for the DpxDCshipweek, sad I couldn't get through it in it entirety, but happy I made some for it at all!

links: [Ao3] Wc: 6656 Cw: implied/referenced torture

John Constantine was a man of few pleasures. He liked booze, nights with a full bed and belly, and keeping his head attached to his shoulders.

 So when he felt a surge of chaos magic flood the board room of the Justice League Watchtower one long morning into their bi-monthly meeting that for some reason he decided to show up to, he felt any chance of him recovering this day with booze or food leave the solar system entirely.

 Before the other Leaguers even felt the pressure change that came with teleporting magics John was on his feet, readying a defence spell just in case who (or what) decided to attack first, talk second. ‘Course the other gits just saw him knock back his chair with a flask of whatever he’d poured himself last night and thought for a second he was trollied.

 He always loved it when the other blokes did that. Fuckin’ hell, where was Zatanna when you needed her?

 He would’ve cracked a smile when the rest of them finally got the memo that sumthin’ foul was afoot, but John was too focused on the fact that he recognized the magic to try and play this off as anything but deadly serious. Why was he the only one here that was able to deal with this particular brand of chaos? Why couldn’t he have bloody stayed home like all the other bloody times he’d missed a meeting?

 The magic was perceptible now, a swirling red cloud hovering over the conference table like it might start raining blood, a static in the air, the smell of lamp oil and chaos magic making John's nose twitch. There wasn’t any use in trying to fool himself as a figure formed in the cloud, and any trace of those lovely effects of his bevvy of choice went straight out the airlock.

 A pale-faced child emerged from the mist, curly black hair with two styled points partially obscuring a set of beady black eyes that looked down their nose at the group surrounding the table.

 “Klarion,” the teen turned to John, expression unusually flat. The witch boy Hadn’t yet said anything, and his blasted familiar kept its place on his shoulder, hissing but not leaping into action.

 Now that John got a good look at the chaos magic user he almost wanted to look surprised. Klarion had changed his style; no longer was he dressed in puritan settler chic, now he wore dark jeans with black converse, a white t-shirt with the runic symbol for creation in red, and a black sleeveless overcoat. It looked grunge, and John could almost appreciate it.

 Almost.

 “Now what does the infamous Witch Boy need that he’s ‘ported in 'on our lovely gathering?” John asked, seeing as the teen (an’ he looked like a proper teen now, didn’ he?) wasn’t feeling especially chatty. His defensive spell was almost complete, if John could just keep the lil shit distracted for a little longer-

 “Stupid heroes, I have come because I have a task for you,” the Witch boy announced, looking like he sucked a lemon while saying it.

 John could see a few others in the room looking at each other in confusion, but he kept his eyes firm on the brat in front of him. “Oh? An’ what task would require our services, oh mighty mage?”

 The Witch Boy’s eyes narrowed at him, clearly not liking the sarcasm in his tone. Surprisingly, to him at least, Klarion turned to Superman, not falling to the taunt like he would’ve before.

 “Someone I respect has been captured by the American government, and while I would have no problem raising the place to the ground myself-” more than a few of the heroes present tense at that, “-this person would only find more trouble in me doing so.”

 Now that brought up a nice heap of questions for the surrounding men in tights. Why, or better yet how does Klarion know someone that needs help from the Justice League. Someone who he apparently respects enough to go for help from a group of stuffy adults with sticks shoved so far up their-

 "And why should we help you?" The big ol' Bat asks what's on the tip of everyone's tongues.

 Klarion turns to the Caped Crusader with the most serious expression John had ever seen on the Witch Boy. "Because the High King of the Dead needs help escaping the living, and you guys love to make sure this stupid plane of existence doesn't fall to war."

~~~~~

   "You seriously aren't helping, Witch Boy!" Danny calls out to the cackling teenager as he evades yet another tentacle from the thing coming out of the side of a large floating island. More of a mountain, really, but Danny's a little too tied up to care.

 "Hit 'em again!" The pale-faced teen on the sidelines jeered as the ghost boy shot off another volley of ectoblasts towards what he's starting to dub as a hermit-ectopus. Grimacing, Danny did just that, raining a hail of green towards the writing mass of tentacles, finally pushing the thing back in its cave enough so that he could seal the entrance with ice.

 With that out of the way, Danny could finally take a breather. He put his hands on his knees for stability as he panted, annoyed. Ancients curse that stupid Witch Boy, he may not need to breathe in this form, but that was one hell of a workout. 

 The cackling to his left was finally starting to die down, but not before he heard the idiot making his way closer. One final exhale and he straightened back up, giving the other teen a side glare Mr. Lancer would be proud of.

 "Give me one good reason I shouldn't soup you right now, cat boy," he demanded with a scowl as he crossed his arms.

 "'Cause you still need me to help you get that stupid antidote for your stupid friends!" Klarion quipped back immediately, smug smirk stuck on his face. "Besides, it's not like your weak little can'll be able to do anything to me."

 "You're the one who poisoned them in the first place," he sneered back, letting his hatred of the other boy leak out through his aura while trying not to worry himself over Sam and Tucker back home.

 Klarion got closer, smirk growing menacingly wider, "Well who was the ghost that kept ignoring me? This is your fault and you know it."

 Danny said nothing, just punched Klarion in the face before flying off into the mountain grumbling, leaving the Witch Boy to deal with the blood falling onto his tie by himself.

~~~~~

   "Constantine, what do you know about this 'High King of the Dead'?" Batman asked after pulling the mage into the hall. They had left Superman to deal with the details and negotiations. He's always been better at that.

 "Not much, Batsy," John sighed, really wishing he could pull out a smoke. If it weren't for those blasted 'no smoking' rules the furry in front of him enforced, he'd be chugging like a train right 'bout now.

 Batman simply glared at the man for a moment before John got the unsaid ‘well, get on with it’. “Alright, alright, I do know some things, but I don’t know how useful they’ll be!”

 “Explain.”

 John sighed, “Not much information about the ruling body of the dead gets through to the realm of the living, that whole ‘dead men tell no tales’ bit. What I know of a King of the dead was that he was a right bastard that wanted his cake and e’ryone else's. Got locked in some coffin or what have you by his ruling court, and hasn’t been heard from for about two millennia ‘til the new one came about.”

 “And this new king, is he anything like the last one?”

 Before John could confirm or contradict the question a sharp laugh came from the other side of the conference doors. The two detectives looked at each other before heading back in, Klarion watching from his seat on the table as they rejoined the group.

 “The new High King of the Dead is nothing like the last one,” the Witch Boy stated with a sneer.

 Batman turned to Superman, asking with a silent tilt of the head. He got a head shake and shrug in return. “We were talking about why he would need us specifically when he just started laughing.”

 “Oh?” The occult detective spoke up, “And what makes you say that? If you respect him he must be pretty similar, eh? Why do you or him need our help?”

 Klarion looked down, a pinched expression taking over his face. “He’s nothing like me. He’s good.”

~~~~~

   Wind tore through Danny’s hair as he flew up to the massive Vortex rampaging through mid- America. He could barely see five feet in front of him before a tree or the rare car nearly takes him out of the sky. Klarion’s magic could be seen on his ten o’clock, trying to stop the raging wind before it throws something at him too. Danny dove to grab onto the magic caster, turning him intangible before the broad side of a barn could crash into him.

 “What did you even do to make him this angry‽” Danny yells over the wind, pulling the concentrating Witch boy to another spot so they could be harder to hit. It doesn’t help, as half a tree still nearly decapitates them.

 “Absolutely nothing!” Klarion ground back through his teeth, “He just started chasing me through the Realms! I thought I could lose him in this plane but he just followed me!”

 Another tree sailed their way, and Danny had to drag the other teen out of its path. He shot a volley of ectoblasts at some clumps of dirt launching themselves at them, breaking them up before they were close enough to hit them.

 “How long ‘til your spell finishes‽” Danny asks, throwing more ectoblasts��into the swirling vortex of carnage. The tornado consumes them greedily, returning fire with debris from an old storage barn it had picked up.

 “Not fast enough!” Klarion shouts back, now flying under his own power as the harder parts of the spell conclude.

 They weave through projectiles after that, Danny obliterating the larger objects thrown their way so Klarion could focus more on his spell. They were at least lucky enough that they had lured Vortex out to farm country, where they could easily provoke him out of the way of any towns. That left just the crops and their tools for the weather ghost to throw.

 At least, until Danny spotted some larger buildings.

 “Better speed that spell up, Witch Boy!” Danny urged, realizing they were heading towards the city, and fast.

 “I’m going as fast as I can!” Was all the other teen could retort as he ground his teeth further, doubling his efforts anyway. Red light swirled fiercely around the pale boy, encircling him and his familiar before suddenly launching outwards to wrap around the tornado. The wind picked it up easily, quickly turning the angry winds and clouds above a sickening blood red colour. A triumphant grin spreads across Klarion’s face at the turn of events, a giggle bubbling up before being stolen by the wind. Danny would almost be scared at the situation if it were him that smile was going against, but right now he was just a little relieved.

 Klarion spoke one final word to his spell, and with it the red smoke pulsed bright, lighting up the whole cloud before the funnel just disappeared, leaving some dark yet still clouds above them. Danny could only stare at the sight in awe.

 “What did you do dude?” He asked, noticing the odd change in the air around them. It was strangely still, almost-

 “I froze the air in place, of course,” Klarion huffed hotly, and Danny turned his awed gaze to the teen next to him.

 “You froze the air?” 

 “Well,” Klarion’s cheeks started to gain an almost normal complexion as his blush rose at the attention. “It’s not frozen frozen, but I made it so it wouldn’t move. So yes, I froze the air.”

 When Danny didn’t move or change his expression Klarion’s blush only grew. Teekl gave a lax “meow” from the Witch Boy’s shoulders, breaking Danny’s trance and allowing Klarion the time to unruffle his proverbial feathers. The witch Boy coughed lightly in his hand as he turned away.

 “Teekl’s right, shouldn’t you be doing your job now? I’ve done all the hard work, pick up the slack Ghost Boy.” Only his familiar saw the light green blush spread over the ghosts cheeks before he gave a nod and flew off towards where he could sense the weather spirit.

 “Meow,” Teekl commented playfully.

 Klarion blushed harder, “Oh shut up you hairball.”

~~~~~

   The Javelin was speeding into earth's atmosphere towards the Americas, half of the Leaguers who had been in the meeting previously plus one chaos mage nestled inside. They had decided an impromptu rescue mission was in order, despite some worries of the Witch Boy leading item into a trap.

 Batman remedied this by keeping Superman on standby, Shazam on call, and taking Manhunter with them to catch any lies the teen might be telling them.

 The plane was dead quiet, and it was honestly making Hal antsy, especially sitting so close to someone they consider an enemy. His solution? Small talk.

 “So,” the green lantern drawled as he swiveled his chair to face the teen. “From the way you talk about this King it sounds like you have something a little more than ‘respect’ for the guy. Care to elaborate?”

 Klarion gave the Green Lantern a long side eye, making Hal even antsier in his seat. Seriously, how can a kid this dorky be this creepy?

 A terse meow from the cat in the boy’s lap and the stare broke, and suddenly Hal felt he could breathe again. Klarion sighed heavily, like the topic exhausted him before he even started, but before Hal could rescind his words the Witch Boy was talking.

 “The King of the Dead and I have known each other for a few years now,” he started. “And while at the beginning we were basically at each other's throats, after his coronation we figured out we didn’t really want to be enemies anymore. Looking back we had probably already decided that without saying anything, but it just got awkward to think about after.”

 “This king was crowned recently?” Batman asked from his place at the wheel.

 “Within the last three years, if I remember right,” Klarion replied flippantly. The Bat nodded, taking his focus back to flying to their charted destination. Not wanting more stifling silence, Hal picked the conversation back up.

 “If you’ve known the King of the Dead for over three years you guys must be pretty close, huh?”

 The Witch Boy huffed, “Yes, you could say that.”

 “So could you maybe tell us more about him? What’s he like? Does he have a hobby? Don’t leave us hanging man!” Hal was encroaching on a jeer with his tone, though he died down quickly at the flat stare he received from both mage and familiar. If Diana hadn’t spoken up he might've been afraid of turning into a toad.

 “I am also curious, Klarion. You haven’t told us much about someone you seem to care greatly over, anything you could tell us about them would help us settle whatever dealings they have with the American government.” At the moment the princess mentioned the government Teekl was on alert, Klarion’s expression soured with the change.

 “The ‘dealings’ they have with your stupid higher powers is that they want to hunt his kind for sport and resources,” He spat, to the astonishment of the league members. Bruce and Diana shared a glance from the front seats, dread seeping into Bruce’s gut at the news.

 “Could you explain that further? We need to know if we want to fix this,” Diana asked more seriously, motioning for Hal to take her seat as copilot so she could focus more on the conversation at hand.

 (Hal was thankful for the distraction.)

 “Your government,” the teen hissed, eyes glinting dangerously red before settling back to their eerie black. “Has been trying to catch Phantom since before I met him. They’ve deemed anything that holds ectoplasm in their body as unfeeling and mindless, and deemed them worthy of extermination and experimentation.”

 “That can’t be legal, non-humans are protected under the Metahuman rights acts.” Diana comments with a frown.

 Klarion rolls his eyes at the princess, “Everyone says that when they hear it, but I assure you, Phantom has talked my ear off about the Anti-ecto acts more times than I care to count. They’re real, and heavily enforced.”

 Diana gave a sidelong glance to the front of the ship, noticing Batman already searching for these ‘acts’ while ever so slightly speeding up their flight. It was worrying that even Bruce didn’t know about this, considering his incessant need to keep up with things that could inevitably cause harm to those he wants to protect. She left that for him to deal with, refocusing the conversation back to lighter topics. “You mentioned ‘Phantom’, is this the king’s name?”

 The Witch Boy gave a small hum, hand moving to idly stroke Teekl’s fur as they settled with the change of topic. “He told me it was originally the name he chose for himself when he started protecting his little town, and by the time he was crowned the ghosts all knew him by that name and it stuck.”

 “Oh? The king is a hero?” Aside from Deadman, she had never heard of any spirits calling themselves heroes. Though it wasn’t entirely a surprise that another spirit wished to help others from beyond the grave.

 Another hum from the teen in front of her, face reading more thoughtful as he presumably went back to the first time they had met. “Yes, he was doing something incredibly stupid, though he called it ‘heroic’ at the time. I still don’t see why he needed to destroy that artifact after he rewrote reality, but then again he was still a boy when he did that.”

 …

 “Pardon?” Diana said, stunned. Klarion either didn't notice the stunned silence he had created or didn’t care as he continued.

 “After that I went to play with him every so often, sometimes playing a few pranks so he would stop ignoring me. He absolutely hated me when we first started, but I like to think I grew on him,” the Witch Boy gave a smirk at the memory, still not noticing the silence in the shuttle.

 She could feel Hal’s eyes on them, incredulity practically oozing from his seat in front of her. Instead of meeting the Green Lanterns with one that was sure to match, she looked to J’onn, who had quietly been assessing their guest the whole flight. He had his head cocked as he faced the teen, but nodded when Diana turned. The boy told no lies.

 They might need to reassess this King of the Dead’s threat level.

~~~~~

   A cacophony of cheers resound in the courtyard of Pariah’s Keep, now renamed officially to Phantom’s Fortress with the crowning of the new king. Danny peered out from beyond the curtain to the courtyard, his ascendance ceremony freshly ended and a crown of arora and ice twirling lazily over his snow white hair.

 “I still can’t believe this many ghosts want me on the throne… I thought everyone hated me with the way I chase them out of Amity all the time…” He marveled to himself, still not quite believing what just happened. He was a King now. He had people to rule. And they actually liked him.

 Though with the reputation of the last king, he supposed that a potato could’ve taken the throne and they would’ve been happy.

 “Is it that hard to believe that maybe you aren’t that hard to like?” A voice jokes from behind the new king, and turning from his peeping spot he couldn’t help the grin that spread. Klarion was standing not too far behind him, one arm behind his back in the clothes they picked out together. He looked good, like he belonged in this century now, and even with his posture radiating nervous energy, Danny could tell he was a lot more comfortable in a t-shirt and jeans than that stuffy puritan suit.

 “I was thinking those odds were in-phantasmal, but I guess the chance was higher than I thought. I’m glad you could make it.” His smile grew slightly at the pink tint to the Witch Boy’s ears, but he went against the thought of pointing out how cute it was.

 Klarion scoffed, as though the notion of not coming was even something that crossed his mind. “As a lord of chaos, it would be remiss of me to not show up for the coronation of a potential fellow lord. Besides, you asked me to come specifically, it would be impolite to refuse.”

 Danny gave a snort at the response, he knew very well that if the other teen didn’t want to be here he would’ve refused the invitation outright. It was nice not having to fight the other anymore, after the battle with Vortex they started fighting less and hanging out more, Danny could even take him to the mall now without a struggle. Sure, Klarion was still trapped in the past with his underground village, but slowly he was starting to relax, have some fun that didn’t destroy everything around him.

 It was nice to hang out with someone he didn’t have to hold back with.

 “So, is there a reason you’re just standing there awkwardly?” Danny asked, letting a chuckle escape at the flat stare he received. A year ago he would’ve gotten a magic blast to the face for that.

 Instead Klarion sighed, eyes glancing around the ornate hall before sighing again. “I figured- I mean- I- ugh…” the Witch Boy kept stuttering before petering off into a grumble. Danny accidentally let another chuckle escape at how cute the other teen was being, causing said teen to glare a hole into the carpet, before letting out a growl. He stomped up to Danny, so close he had to back up a step or they would be in each other's personal space, and suddenly his vision was full of orange and purple with a spatter of red.

 Another step back put the colours in focus. A bouquet of flowers was being thrust towards him by a furiously blushing Klarion, whose eyes were currently on a rather interesting vase.

 “What are these for?” Danny asked as he relieved the bouquet from the others' vice grip.

 “For you, to congratulate you on becoming king. The orange ones are lilies, the purple flowers are irises and gerberas, and the little red ones are bloody williams. The lady at the store said they say “I’m happy for your success” in flower language.” Klarion looked like he was ready to say more, he probably had a whole speech about these, but Danny just couldn’t get over the fact that one of the biggest (previous) pains in his ass just started blushing and gave him flowers.

 “Thank you,” he said, cutting off whatever Klarion was rambling about with a genuine smile. Klarion stared for a second, before blinking and clearing his throat.

 “Of course,” he replied, blush spreading all the way down his neck.

~~~~~

   The Javelin touched down a ways off of a squat white building. It was rather nondescript, save for the perimeter fencing circling the compound lined with guards.

 “This is the place?” Batman asked tersely as they disembarked the plane. None of the armed men had seen them yet, it would give them the advantage in the infiltration.

 “I wouldn’t lie to you about something so important,” the Witch Boy replied, narrowing his eyes at the compound before them. He could feel Danny in there, the strange mix of life and death energies radiating off the half-ghost was an ever present comfort to the Witch boy by now, and he was especially glad for it now.

 He wouldn’t have been able to find him so quickly without it.

 “I sense something heavy in the compound,” Manhunter noted with a frown.

 Batman, ever the detective, wanted to know more, “Elaborate.”

 The martian’s face twisted as he focused, reaching out with his mind to better read the heavy -no, oppressive- cloud that covered the compound, before gasping, recognition and anguish passing over as he physically recoiled. Green Lantern was there to steady him by the shoulders before he could so much as stumble.

 “What did you feel?” The Dark Knight compelled once it was clear there were no lasting effects of his reaching out.

 “Pain,” he replied shakily. “So much pain and suffering, hanging over the building like a fog. It is unnaturally powerful, if I hadn’t known beforehand, I would assume an entire city was under attack and not a single building.”

 The Dark Knight said nothing, simply taking what was said to heart. He moved forward with purpose, but before he could get too far a hand held him back. “Wait.”

 Batman looked down at the chaos mage, a single hand splayed out over his chest. “You need to know some things before I take you in there.”

 The  miniscule tilt of the taller man’s cowl was all Klarion needed to continue. “The facility is phase proof, the martian won’t be able to density shift through the walls, and the nature of their weapons are similar to Green Lantern’s constructs. You won’t get hurt badly if they hit you, but I’ve been told they burn.” All vital things to know. Batman's strategy would have to account for this, but he could still sense something from the teen, and so kept quiet.

 “And when we find Phantom? Get every agent you can out of there. He doesn’t like senseless killing, but I will not leave that building standing.”

 Batman gave a single nod, and with that Klarion enveloped the five in the red mist of his magic.

 ∆•∆•∆•∆

 The plan was rather simple, Wonder Woman and Green Lantern were to be dropped off at the entrance to the building as a distraction and to round up the agents while Klarion, Manhunter and Batman were to use Klarion’s magic to infiltrate and locate the King. Klarion’s mist acted as a memetic, letting the gaze of the agents fall past them on their way through the building as they ran deeper to where he could feel Danny. They had to be careful to not touch anyone though, as the moment they did they would be able to see them.

 “Why can’t you teleport us in?” Baman asked as they rounded another stark white corner into another stark white hall.

 “Death energies, do strange things to magic,” Klarion panted his reply. He was not used to actually running, and he couldn’t figure out why some humans actually liked doing the activity. “With so much, charged death and ectoplasm in the air, better to not cause an explosion. So soon.”

 Another swerve and he could feel Danny more, could almost taste that distinct flavour of citrus and menthol, the strange combination of ectoplasm and life that surrounded his ghost. The smell of citrus was strong though, and Klarion was desperately hoping he wasn’t too late with this rescue. The first real good thing he tries to do and he ends up a moment too late.

 “The source of the pain is drawing nearer,” Manhunter informs them as they pass a windowed room. Batman breaks off to take a look inside, calling to the other two to keep going. Klarion never stopped.

 One more corner and the acidic sour smell of citrus was assaulting their noses, and they started passing doors more resembling operating room entrances than offices. Lights were still on over a few as they passed, and Klarion made sure to snake a coil of mist into those that did, leaving screams and indistinct, cut off pleas in their wake. Those ones especially could rot in hell for all he cared, the smell of everdeath roiled off those rooms, alluding to whatever horrors might have been performed in them. He knew only a fraction of the ectoplasm spilt in there was from the one he cherished, but that made them no less guilty.

 The final turn led them to a hall lined with a different type of door, these ones steel grey tinted green. Klarion loathed to see the colours he associated with his spirit used in a mockery against him, keeping Danny away from him. He stalked down, using his magic to blow every door off its hinges as he passed until he hit the one his beloved was in. Turning to face it, he held up his hand, willing his magic to grasp it and tear it from the wall, throwing it down the hall and uncaring what was in the way.

 Emotion charged ectoplasm rolled out of the small cell, settling around their feet like fog and weakly intermingling with klarion’s magic.

 The sight made the mage want to puke. And weep. And decimate this measly world that would dare touch his soul like this.

 Were it not for the Martian's presence he just might have.

 Danny was there, shackled to the wall with chains at his wrists and ankles, head weighed heavy by the collar around his neck and the fucking muzzle on his face. The ghost made no move to the light that now filtered into the space, he hung limply from his chains, lifelessly. Only the faint glow around Danny’s frame gave away that he was not yet truly ended.

 But the green.

 A shaky breath from behind the mage reminded him where he was, and he urgently entered the room. He went to work on the manacles, seemingly seamless, but with one whispered word they were releasing Danny into his arms.

 “Is he?..” The martian started, too afraid to finish the sentence lest it become a reality.

 “No,” Klarion breathed out shakily. “No he’s still… He’ll recover.” He has to.

 “He’s so young,” Manhunter observed with a pained face as Klarion lowered to the floor of the cell, turning the ghost so he could hold him by the shoulders while he worked on getting his ankles freed.

 “He was even younger when he started,” with Danny's ankles freed, all that was left was the inhibitor collar and that damned muzzle. He did away with the muzzle first, desperate to see his cherished spirit's face. No magic was needed for it, thankfully, just a simple lock keeping it around the halfa’s face. Klarion gingerly removed the offending device, tossing it at a wall and making a note of obliterating it before he left. There were already chafe marks around Danny’s cheeks and on his nose, green and nearly raw from it pressing his jaw shut.

 How long has he been here for them to look so raw?

 Klarion had only been away for two months at the most, off on some insignificant errand after finding the piece of an artifact drifting in the Realms. Insignificant because apparently while he was away, his cherished one had gotten captured trying to save one of his people from this moronic group. When he had finally returned, he had to be informed about his capture. The rage he felt then… He hopes Danny wouldn’t be too mad at him for the damage he caused to the Fortress.

 A breathy groan followed by a sharp intake of breath and subsequent coughing brought Klarion out of his what if spiral. Danny was waking up, bleary eyed and confused at first -no doubt concerning his orientation- but a few seconds after the couches settled green eyes focused on black.

 “Hey, Rion,” the ghost king gave a small watery smile. “Glad you could finally make it. How was  your adventure?”

 “Stupid ghost-” Klarion has to reel back the power he was putting behind his voice with a breath that came out more like a sob. “Do you know how worried I was when you weren’t in Amity? In the Fortress? I was away for two damn months and you almost got yourself ended Danny!”

 Danny gave a chuckle that teetered into more of a cough as he weakly wiggled in Klarions lap. “They tried to grab Lunch Lady and Boxed Lunch, what was I supposed to do? It's my job as king to keep them safe-”

“NOT AT YOUR OWN EXPENSE YOU MORON!”

 The outburst silenced the ghost with a small snap of his jaw, followed by a cut off groan at the soreness from its disuse. A light cough broke the tense silence, and Danny sat up slightly to see what made it, eyes immediately sharp with alertness for any possible danger. His eyes landed on Martian Manhunter and that sharpness melted away to confusion.

 “Is that- why- Am I dreaming?” He stuttered, looking between the Justice leaguer and his lover. “Did I pass out so hard I’m actually dreaming my boyfriend came to save me with Martian Manhunter right now? Someone pinch me.” Klarion obliged the request and Danny yelped in pain. “Yep, okay, not a dream. Cool,” He whimpered, eyes now glued to the martian.

 Klarion went back to the task of freeing the ghost from his restraints, but hesitated before taking the collar off. “Do you have enough power to stay in this form if I take this off you?” He asked cautiously.

 Danny looked down, trying to see the band of metal around his neck, but quickly gave up with a sigh. “Probably not, it's taking most of my energy just to stay awake and talk right now.” He looked ashamed to say it, but Klarion was relieved to get a straight answer about his condition for once.

 “I’ll leave it on until we get you somewhere safe then,” Klarion whispered before readjusting his hands and standing up with the ghost boy bridal-style. The energy must have been draining from his cherished, as he only jolted at the movement. He could see Danny's eyes getting heavy, his head pitching forward before righting itself a few more times.

 “You’ll be there when I wake up… Right?” The Ghost boy asked, voice slurring with the effort to remain conscious. Klarion nodded once as he kissed the ghost's forehead -warmer than it should be- and walked back out of the cell. “Of course, my spirit. Rest.”

 One more wobbly nod and the ghost’s eyes closed. Klarion straightened, reigniting his magic with the help of Teekl and pushing it to blow the rest of the cell doors off their hinges. A few other ghosts floated out, and Manhunter helped a few more into the hall. They left slowly, with magical fire crackling in the prison that once held his spirit, catching the ectoplasm alight as the Witch Boy’s face contorted.

 ∆•∆•∆•∆

 The trip back to the Javelin was shorter than the trip into the facility, without the need to be covert they were able to retrace their steps through the building at a much faster pace. Batman regrouped with them just before the exit, and out in the grounds Green Lantern and Wonder Woman had done a great job of distracting and subduing most of the agents. One of them must have gone in and rounded up the scientists too, because they were tied up in a neat little pile a ways off.

 Good, he could burn this place to the ground without worry then.

 Klarion didn’t stop his stride out the compound as his magic spread to lick the walls, fire sparking to life where it touched. He didn’t stop to watch as the fire spread up the walls unnaturally fast, as it spread into the building through the holes it was melting in the reinforced glass. He didn’t pause when an explosion hit the air, the fire most likely finding the medical wing or the weapons vault.

 Klarion only stopped once Danny was securely in the small medbay of the Javelin, held securely in place for takeoff.

~~~~~

   Danny came to slowly, letting the ectoplasm of the Ghost Zone fill his lungs as he breathed deeply… Wait. Ectoplasm? Ghost Zone?? Lungs???

 Screw waking up slowly, Danny bolted up from wherever he was sleeping… and immediately regretted it. A massive headache assaulted his senses, along with about a dozen other aches and pains from his capture, most notably his jaw and starving stomach. Still, assessing the situation came before anything else, so he tried to make himself vertical despite his body's protests. Until a hand on his chest stopped him.

 Klarion met his bleary eyed confusion with a stern stare. He pushed down once more and this time Danny didn’t protest the movement. “It wasn’t a dream?” Danny croaked out, only a little bit surprised at how dry his voice sounded.

 “No it wasn’t a dream,” Klarion replied softly as he pressed a straw to Danny's lips. He was grateful for the first full drink of water he’d gotten in… he doesn't remember how long.

 “And Martian Manhinter? Was he real too then?” Danny asked when his throat no longer felt like sandpaper. Klarion hummed an affirmative as he put the cup back on the nightstand, idly stroking Teelke with his offhand. He takes a second to process that before he nearly bolts up again, startling the familiar and mage alike.

 “Is the Justice League here‽‽”

 A pregnant pause followed the exclamation before the Witch Boy gave a snort, snickering to avoid outright laughing at the bedridden ghost. “No, I left the little humans to fly back to their clubhouse while I took you back to the Realms with a portal.”

 Deflating with the explanation, Danny’s eyes travelled the embroidered constellations on the canopy of his bed, finally relaxing enough to appreciate where he was. Home. He took another deep breath, feeling his ectoplasm replenish itself more than it had in the last month in the GIW facility. The ectoplasm combined with the pine and fire smell of the mage sitting beside him only enforced the fact that he wasn’t there anymore. Tears threatened to fall with that thought.

 His boyfriend came for him. He didn’t doubt he would, but the days passed along and he was starting to lose hope. But not only did Rion come for him, he brought the Justice League, a group he knows Rion has beef with. Traitorously, a tear managed to escape and roll down into his hair.

 “You know, I’ll have to go talk to the League now that you’ve told them about me,” Danny commented, desperate to get out of those thoughts and ignoring the way his voice wobbled.

 “I’m sure you will,” Rion replied, no doubt with a roll of his eyes. “But you need to heal first. You’re in no shape to go talk to a bunch of stupid humans right now.”

 Danny gave a snort, “Those ‘stupid humans’ helped you get me back, right? Maybe drop the stupid when we see them next.”

 Rion only grunted in reply, and so they lapsed into silence again. Danny felt sleep pulling at his mind again, now that he knew he was truly safe with his beloved mage beside him. He didn't fight it for long, but he needed to say one more thing before he truly allowed himself to start healing.

 “Rion,” he mumbled out, getting the attention of the mage with a hum. “Thanks for coming to get me, love you.”

 A rare kind of smile passed the pale teen’s lips then, soft and kind. “I love you too, Danny.”