#the world was indeed wonderful so why was it so hard for him? why did cyrus struggle to keep up? to take off like he knew he could | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reallyromealone · 4 months

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Title: little god

Fandom: jjk

Characters: Gojo, Geto

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: -/-

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, dragon reader, child reader, fluff, god reader

Notes: uwuwuwuwu

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(Name) Stretched his bones as he sunbathed in a garden he found, the dragon stretched out and his scales glimmered in the sunlight.

The lawn was soft, fancy grass that felt wonderful against his scales as he huffed sleepily, eyes blinking lazily and without a worry in the world as the ribbons in his little horns swished in the gentle breeze, the gold accessories on his head and horns jingling slightly with the wind chimes in the engawa a few feet away.

Dragons couldn't be seen by normal humans so (name) often made his way into gardens or sleeping on couches or chairs... Basically the little mythical reptile did as he pleased as he scratched his little whiskered face and sneezed a little and a flower bloomed where the golden dust hit, a single orchid grew up.

"Well you aren't a cursed spirit" a voice broke out and (name) looked up to see blue eyes and immediately the small cat sized dragon jumped up startled and ran behind a decorative rock "I take it you're the little one leaving tiny paw prints in my sand garden" the man was crouched as he smiled at the dragon who glared and grumbled at him, a little baby hiss.

Who was this?

Why was he seeing him?

(Name) Was only a toddler in human years, running on instinct as he got ready for a fight.

But the human seemed unphased.

Gojo cooed at the little guy, he knew there was something living in his garden but he never thought it would be a fortune god or a baby one at that "where's your mama little one" he asked sweetly and sat down as he grabbed the pieces of chicken he grabbed when he saw the little one lounging "want some chicken?" That got the little guys attention as he chirped, the sound of little chimes could be heard as he carefully walked towards the good smelling food and before Gojo could even blink the dragon took it and ran back behind the tree.

(Name) Sniffed the chicken he took and deemed it safe and began munching on the chicken, glancing at the human periodically to make sure he didn't take it.

"You're the one whose been sneaking around eating birds, probably the one eating my koi" he teased as he watched the dragon eat the chicken happily before coming back for more, batting his snoot against his hand "I got plenty of chicken and even some salmon inside if you want some" he offered the dragon who let himself be lifted up as he ate more chicken from the white haired human, very food driven indeed.

Gojo noticed a gold charm on the dragons forehead, (name), inscribed on it and the man hummed as they got more food for the little guy.

He loved watching (name), he was absolutely hilarious and precious!

(Name) Liked to do his own little thing, mainly fight his own shadow and chase bugs but he did his own thing regardless.

He had to show Geto!

"So you found a dragon..." Geto said as they watched (name) eat his new balanced diet, little face messy "you know he won't be a dragon fully forever right?" He said and Gojo shrugged "I'm his dad now, currently he eats raw chicken hearts and salmon but when he's bigger he can have tempura and rice" he said simply as (name) blinked up at them before trotting off "he does his own thing" Gojo said simply and Geto worried for Gojos... Could it even be seen as parenting?

He definitely had to keep an eye on this situation.

The following days went daily smooth as Gojo took time off to be with his new son, (name) having morning zoomies in the yard before breakfast and a nap, the sorcerer doing some work from home as the dragon slept in his lap, imprinting hard on him.

But the dragon would often wonder off, vanishing for periods of time before eventually returning and Gojo decided to follow him.

(Name) Was weirdly interested in under Gojos bed, the man had no clue why though until he looked under to find things from his jewelry to coins to soft blankets, all on top of the fluffy dog bed Gojo got his little buddy "there's my Rolex..." Gojo grumbled but let the little guy keep it, clearly he was very happy with it all.

Something Gojo noticed as well was he would have random coins in his pockets in pants, better hair days and he was feeling better and it wasn't until he saw his little... Son? Yeah son! Drop coins in his shoes and pockets and golden dust sprinkled on his mask after the dragon finished cuddling it "do you do have a bit of magic in ya" gojo lifted the dragon up whose hind legs curled up and his long tail curled between his legs, little head tilt before sneezing gold dust on his face.

"Gross"

Bling!

Setting (name) down he checked his phone to see that meeting he was planning on being late too was cancelled "why thank you, son" Gojo pet the dragons little head and chuckled when he aggressively kicked his leg and leaned in to the touch.

Gojo did his research, Jujutsu sorcerer's kept documentation on God's and such, wasn't the first time they saw one and won't be the last and realized he would need to be ready for when he stopped being a little dragon full time and quickly grabbed his laptop and ordered away.

Gojo set up a bedroom for his adoptive dragon son, a toddler bed and toys that the little one played with kind of.

The room had everything he could need and even got pull-ups in case the kid couldn't figure out toilets.

Should he get a nanny?

Maybe he should look into that... And a tutor... His kid was not cut for public education.

It wasn't until four months in that he got woken to a tiny little hand, eyes snapping open to see a tiny face with big (color) eyes and scales that framed bits of his cheeks and forehead "papa, breakfast!" He said impatiently and gojo realized that this random child was the dragon he took in, the tiny tail swishing at the boy wore traditional clothes lined with gold "yeah? And what does my son want today?" He teased as he got up and lifted the boy into his arms, blessed energy radiating off him like an eclipse "hot dog!"

"A hot dog for breakfast? Thats not breakfast!" It was weird how easy he fell into the role of dad, making his son eggs and hot dogs as compromise and the boy devoured it happily.

Gojo was thankful he had the forethought to get the boy more clothes though the tot leaned towards more traditional robes than anything and Gojo assumed it had something to do with being a god.

"Fancy clothes for my fancy son" he said as he had the seamstress he typically went to put together a bunch of robes for the boy, his little one was so cute!

Geto came by frequently, (name) plenty used to him as the boy ate fancy chicken nuggets as his tail swished lazily "why is he dressed like royalty?"

"Why do you dress like a monk?"

"Touche"

"You know you can't hide him from the elders forever right?" Geto worried for the boy, the elders were assholes who would exploit the fact that the little one was the literal god of fortune, having done some research to find that (name) goes through "rebirth" periods, once he gets too old he just reverses his age and starts new, he wondered if he retained his memories....

"I would love for them to try" Gojo said coldly, a smile on his face as he pat his sons head fondly, the boy grinning at his dad and offering him some of his half eaten nugget "papas full, little man" he rejected kindly and (name) resumed eating as the adults spoke.

(Name) Was just happy to have more meat, Gojo always having the best food especially for the literal only other Gojo family member (if you try to tell him (name) wasn't you would be turned to a fine mist by the blue eyed man) who looked at him like he hung the stars and painted the moon.

"Oh? What's up?" Gojo asked and Geto looked confused as (name) suddenly handed him a few coins "he just has those" Gojo shrugged and Geto raised an eyebrow "he keeps using his magic to summon coins, he keeps giving them to the fridge though..." (Name) Practically worshipped the fridge, the tiny god hugging it often and mumbling "chicken..." Happily as Gojo took pictures of the little goober.

"Though he has granted a wish" Gojo said softly as Geto looked shocked, looking back at the tot who was full and sleepy, a soggy nugget in his hand "what did he grant?" He asked curiously and Gojo sipped his tea "he saw something on tv, I was watching the news and there was a report on a missing dog and the man looked distressed" setting his cup down and taking off his glasses as he continued '(name) touched the tv and poof, the dog was running to his owner" Geto still couldn't grasp the fact that he was sitting before a literal god, the god of fortune no less.

A being that could completely alter reality but all he wanted was chicken and getting to chase birds.

Eventually Geto left and Gojo brought his son for his afternoon nap, a stuffed lucky cat in his arms as he snoozed.

It was weird for Gojo to sit and think about the fact he was a dad... To a fucking dragon god!

But it was worth it because (name) was odd yes, but he looked at Gojo like he was his dad.

It's why he used his standing to put together papers so (name) would be a Gojo legally.

Now he just had to make sure the Zenin clan didn't go near him.

#jjk x male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x male reader #gojo satoro x reader #child male reader #child reader #dragon reader #fluff #anime x male reader #anime x reader

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artificial-transmutations · 1 month

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Night of the were-himbo

Dave's heart was pounding fast when he finally arrived in the relative safety of his apartment. He took a few moments, leaning against his door to calm down and wipe away the cold sweat from his forehead.

What in the world was that? He had trouble wrapping his head around what he had just experienced, and he needed to make some sense of it to keep his sanity.

While he sat down on the couch, he noticed that he was wearing his hastily thrown on shirt backwards, and it was soaked with sweat. No wonder, really. It all started after work, this afternoon. Dave, who was working in electronics manufacturing, had one of the rare days that he craved a beer from a bar. Okay, no, this wasn't entirely honest. It had been one of the rare days that he had felt low-key horny all day, and he went to the bar with the hope of meeting a beautiful girl there. Truth be told, that was a rather faint hope, because in about one hundred percent of the few times he tried, he went home alone afterwards. Still, no reason not to try, right?

Surprisingly enough, especially for a Thursday evening, he really did meet someone. The girl - a woman, really - was absolutely stunning. Her long blonde hair was cascading down her slender, well-shaped back, and the tight dress she was wearing was revealing every curve of her body. And, even more surprisingly, she was all flirty and... interested in Dave. That was something new indeed. So, the two of them talked a bit and one thing led to another. A few drinks later, Dave found himself accompanying the woman he didn't even know the name of to her place. He should have been suspicious of how easy it had been to hook up with her, but he had been drunk and horny and, frankly, she was smoking hot.

As soon as they entered the apartment, the woman, whose name Dave still didn't know, was all over him, kissing and making out. He figured that she, too, must have had quite the dry spell period and was kind of needy because of that. Even when he noticed that he didn't carry any condoms, she just laughed and said it was no problem, because they could just do anal. Dave had never actually done that, but he had seen enough porn to know where everything was supposed to go, so, he agreed, because why not?

However, when he found himself working on her ass, with her legs up in the air or on his shoulders, he noticed something odd for the first time. Her legs were really hairy, for a woman. In hindsight, he was pretty sure they hadn't looked like this before, but back then, he didn't pay too much attention, because he was kind of occupied.

He had to admit that he closed his eyes at some point, not to be distracted by the surprisingly strong and hairy legs, and her low grunting didn't seem too strange as well. But, after he came inside of her, he opened his eyes again, and...

Dave wiped away his sweat again.

The beautiful woman wasn't there anymore. In her place, a muscular *man* was sprawled across the bed, with his obscenely large cock still hard and a puddle of cum on his torso.

Needless to say, Dave panicked and threw on his clothes before the man could come back to his senses and ran. He ran until he arrived here.

That was... paranormal. Dave had been so sure that he didn't hook up with a man, and there had been absolutely no possibility that she had been exchanged for a guy, while was still balls deep *in her*. There was just *no* rational explanation.

Dave wasn't homophobe, but he was straight. There was no way he'd hook up with a guy, even when drunk. He... needed to take a shower. Perhaps a cold shower, to get rid of this... confusion.

As he undressed, he looked at his body. He was average. Not overly strong or weak, with a light amount of body hair and a slight belly. A normal man, in any way. His involuntary sex partner on the other hand, had been far from that. *He* had been fit and broad, muscular and hairy. Given, Dave hadn't really paid him too much attention and had been focused more on getting into his underwear, but he could recall some details, such as the broad chest and the bulging biceps.

Dave shook his head. No. He wouldn't mind having a body like that, or at least the fitness part. The amount of body hair wasn't something he was too fond of, but the small amount he had didn't bother him enough to shave it off.

Even after the shower, his thoughts returned to the man. Not in a sexual way, but the whole thing had just been so weird. And even when he went to bed, his dreams kept returning to the encounter.

Dave couldn't really recall the exact nature of his dreams, but when he woke up, he was sweaty from head to toe and his bedroom *reeked* so much he could smell it himself. As he removed the blanket, he groaned inwardly. There, at about groin-level, was sticky half-dried evidence that his dreams had been quite vivid and erotic. His underwear had absorbed a lot of the cum and were stuck to his body, but it was obvious that he had climaxed several times throughout the night. How embarrassing. It had been *years* since he had a wet dream. It was no use. Even though he was already borderline late for work, he hopped into the shower and changed into clean underwear before he left for his job.

The morning hours went by fast, but as the day progressed, Dave felt bored. His gaze wandered over the room. Working in a male-dominated field meant of course that only a few of his co-workers were woman. But somehow, even though they were wearing their work uniform, they seemed particularly good-looking today.

Dave tried not to stare. Most of them were married, and also, don't fuck the company, but he couldn't help himself. He noticed that, even when they were just doing mundane tasks like lifting boxes or carrying cables, their bodies moved in a way that seemed particularly sexy. Dave didn't consider himself a pervert, but he felt his body react to the show.

It took him a lot of self-control to avert his gaze, but still, his erection did not subside. He shifted around uncomfortably in his overall, trying to conceal the bulge. Luckily, he was just as average in that department as he was in the rest of his body. His dick was neither very thick nor very long, so it wasn't *too* obvious.

But his hardon was persistent. No matter what he did, his dick wouldn't go soft again, and just as he was contemplating on how to best sneak to a bathroom to jerk off, a coworker - a male one, thankfully, called Sebastian - addressed him.

"Hey Dave, is everything alright?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. Everything fine."

"Sure? You look like you feel hot."

It wasn't wrong, Dave was sweating more than usual. He wanted nothing more than to get out of his overall, but that was hardly possible. However, Sebastian continued:

"Ehm... And you smell a bit strongly, too, actually. It doesn't bother me, I just thought I'd let you know that you maybe forgot to put on deodorant this morning."

That surprised Dave. It was possible that he forgot in this morning's hurry, but he never had a problem with body odor before. It didn't matter if he wore deodorant or not, he just didn't smell. Usually. How embarrassing! Dave felt his head redden and, apparently, Sebastian noticed, too.

"No, no, don't worry, I'm sure it's not that bad."

Sebastian stepped a bit closer and sniffed, which didn't really help with the situation. It only made Dave feel even more self-conscious when Sebastian backed away a bit and coughed.

"Yeah, uh, not bad. Really. It's just a bit stronger today. But I'm sure you're okay. Uh, just..."

Dave didn't need a doctorate in medicine to notice that the man was a bit uncomfortable now.

"Anyway, I just came to ask if you can help me a bit, we're a bit understaffed, and I can't manage all these boxes by myself."

Sebastian worked in logistics and usually, Dave didn't particularly feel like helping out there. However, perhaps that would help him get his mind under control again.

"Yeah, sure."

Dave was thankful for the distraction. The two of them lifted and carried around the heavy equipment, and even though his muscles were complaining, it felt good to do some hard work. What it did not help with, however, was his sweat situation and his hornyness. Even though there were no women in sight, his cock was throbbing in his pants, and he feared it was starting to be noticeable. If it was, however, Sebastian didn't comment on it.

However, the longer they worked together, the less comfortable Dave felt. It was like his clothes were ill-fitting all of a sudden, and every movement caused the fabric to tense and stretch. It was like the overall he was wearing was at least one size too small. However, that was not what preoccupied Dave's mind the most. That was Sebastian. Truth be told, Dave didn't really know much about the other man, they didn't meet much at work, given that Sebastian didn't work in manufacturing as Dave did. But as the hours went by, Dave couldn't help but notice that the other guy was... good looking. He didn't know how to describe it. Sebastian wasn't 'beautiful', like a statue of Michelangelo, but he was kind of... handsome. Normally, Dave wouldn't have been able to tell. He didn't look at other men that way, so he had no idea on how good-looking another dude was. But Sebastian...

Dave scratched his itchy chest, and as he lifted his arm, another cloud of strong scent filled the area.

No, Sebastian was kind of... hot? From an objective perspective of course. Dave certainly didn't find him hot, he wasn't a woman, after all. And, he had to add for himself, he was not gay.

God, his cock throbbed in the tight confines of his underwear. When did that get so tight, really? Didn't he wear spacious boxer shorts?

Dave tried to ignore it, but the scent in the air was getting stronger, too. At first, it had been a slight hint, but now, the air was getting heavy with the smell, and even the other workers around had started to look at the two of them. The fact that it was him who smelled like that only made things worse. Thankfully, the end of his shift was just around the corner, so he could go home and...

"Hey, Dave, do you want to come to my place and watch the game after work? Drink some beer?" Sebastian casually asked.

"I, uh, yeah, sure, sounds great. But I gotta go, uh, take a shower first, I'm afraid. I'll be right over."

"You can use my shower. I live close by, so it would be a waste if you had to go home first."

Did Sebastian's gaze lingered on his surprisingly prominent bulge right now? No, he must have been imagining things.

"Uh, sure, thanks, man."

Dave had trouble focusing. He didn't remember a time he had ever been so horny. Sure, there had been some nights where he masturbated like five or six times, in his teens, but now, he was just constantly horny. And it was surprisingly hard to think straight, as if his thoughts somehow were slowed down.

Thankfully, work was over soon, and Dave accompanied Sebastian to his apartment. He wasn't lying: It really was close by. When they arrived, Sebastian first got Dave a cold beer, and then a towel.

"For your shower." He hesitated for a tiny bit, and Sebastian added: "If you want to take one, that is."

"Uh, thanks. I really should take one, I stink like... uh, a lot."

That was, again, really unwitty.

"I don't mind." Sebastian shrugged, and Dave thought he had seen him lick his lips subconsciously. Deciding to ignore that, Dave gave the towel back.

"Well, okay, if you don't mind."

He looked around the typical bachelor apartment.

"Do you live here alone or with a girlfriend?"

"Na, it's just me. I'm between boyfriends right now, if you want to put it that way."

Boyfriend? Was Sebastian...?

"I see."

Dave took another sip from his beer and felt more and more uncomfortable in his clothes. He still felt hot and, after learning that Sebastian was gay, for some reason, he felt even more horny. His dick was achingly hard, and his underwear was damp with sweat and precum.

"Sorry, work clothes are killing me right now." Dave laughed and tried to change the topic to distract himself.

Sebastian shrugged again. "You don't have to keep them on. I can give you one of my shirts, or you can go without one, if you like. It's just us guys, after all."

Dave didn't think about that. He was already pulling the zipper of his overall down, and then, pulled his arms through the sleeves. A moment later, he was standing half-naked in the middle of his colleague's apartment and was looking down on himself incredulously. That wasn't his body! Instead of the fairly average built man he was used to seeing in the mirror every day, a muscular chest with a more than generous coating of hair stared back at him. Where the hell did these pecs and biceps come from?

He was so distracted, that he didn't even notice Sebastian approaching him, until the other man was just an arm's length away.

"You smell pretty good." The other man said, almost like drunk or in trance. Of course, after opening his overall, all the musk had flooded the apartment, and Sebastian stared almost hungrily at his hairy chest, with his eyes darting to his armpits.

"No, that's not-"

Dave didn't even know what he was trying to say, and, without noticing it, his hand wandered down his chest, caressing the new body hair there. His arousal grew even more, and spurt after spurt of precum soaked his groin. Sebastian was rock hard as well, that was clearly visible through his pants, but unlike Dave, this didn't change him. Dave watched in amazement, as his body expanded further. Calves, thighs, his entire lower body filled with muscle, and the legs became hairier as well.

"Fuck!"

With that exclamation, he got out of the rest of his overall, standing there just in his filled to the brim and soaked boxer shorts, watching as his transformation was far from over. His ass filled out, and his torso grew even larger. His stomach was quickly adorned by a four-pack but didn't stop there until a cobblestone road of a furry eight-pack led the way from his two large plates of pectoral muscles towards his fuckstick. His thoughts slowed even more as he watched his bulge further expand, his cock growing even bigger until the fabric couldn't contain his monstrous cock anymore and started to rip. He looked at his changed hands, hairy and strong, and felt his chin, which was not cleanly shaven anymore. Following an impulse, he raised his arm and when Sebastian buried his nose in the damp armpit and began to lick his sweat, Dave finally started to grin. There was no more brain capacity for worry, and he pushed his coworker deeper into his pit while ripping his underwear off for good, grinding his groin against the other man.

"Let's get this party started, man!"

He said with a lower, gravelly voice.

The next morning, Dave woke up cuddled against Sebastian in a bed that was clearly not his own. He remembered everything, even though the memory seemed hazy. Slowly, he looked down at himself and was relieved to see he was back to his old self. And, he wasn't gay anymore, he was pretty sure about that.

Just then, Sebastian stirred and smiled at him.

"Do you want some breakfast, or do you want to continue where we left off?" he asked with a wink.

No, Dave wasn't gay. Not yet, anyway. But he couldn't help to get horny again from the lewd comment, and as he saw the hair grow in and his muscle swell, he realized that there was no escaping this new reality. He was a were-himbo now, ready to fuck everyone and everything (although he preferred men, then) once he got horny. And his last realization, as his thoughts grew dim again as his cock rose was, that he got horny pretty easily these days...

#male transformation #muscle transformation #straight to gay #dumbing down #sweat #hairy #musk

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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months

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In the cave boy fic, I hope Danny has to end up fighting against reanimated hot dogs (I blame the Joker) and when asked why he can fight off reanimated meat. he comments that that's a normal Tuesday in his house as his mom and dad end up reanimating dinner at least once a week, and honestly being here is the longest time he spent without having to fight against reanimated food. He loves his parents but they really need to practice better lab safety or at least stop putting the ectoplasm samples in the same fridge with the food.

This is also adjusted to the cave boy storyline before he takes out the Joker.

One morning, Brucie wakes up and decides to cook everyone breakfast since the night previous was rough for the crime fighters. Almost everyone had gotten injured in one of Riddler's games, nothing life-threatening, but they would be sore and in some cases, in casts for some time. Alfred had been the one to patch the heroes up, so even the aged butler had a rough time.

Bruice had woken before anyone, quickly frying up some sausages, making various versions of eggs (boiled, scrambled, fried, over-easy, omelets) spread out on the table for them to pick which lond they wanted. He made some oatmeal and cut up various fruit in a pretty arrangement of swans.

When the family finally dragged their tired bodies down to the table, they were all greeted by the sight of Alfred being utterly flabbergasted by the spread Bruice proudly presented. Bruicie happily has them take a seat, gathering a plate for them- not before forcing Alfred to sit at the head of the table and make Bruce move to the seat usually reserved for the Lady of the house- and cheerfully place a plate before him.

Everyone was giving each other unsure looks or staring at the plates in wonder. Even Bruce.

Because if there was one thing that was another consent in all the multiverse it was that Bruce Wayne can not cook. The closest any variate has even gotten was burned beyond recognition ash.

Yet here was an entire spread that while not the meal of kings still looked rather taste and some may even say artsty.

"Don't just sit there. Dig in!" Brucie laughs. His hair bounces around his face in an adorable helo, and the family can only stare.

"How did you do this? Is it laced with something?" Tim's voice is heavy with suspicion, which would have been an overreaction if everyone wasn't feeling the same way.

"What? No, It's just eggs, sausage and fruit. With some presentation, I guess, but this isn't hard to make," Brucie says with a hint of defensiveness. "I worked really hard on it."

"We all appricate it Brucie." Dick speaks up leveling the table with a hard look "And we will eat it no matter the taste."

Ah, that must be it. It may look editable, but indeed it would taste terrible. In fact, they wouldn't put it past a version of Bruce Wayne to cause them all to cling to a toilet with his cooking.

Knowing it best to get it over with, the Bats pick up a utensil and carefully cut a bite of eggs or sausage. They hesitate for a moment- Brucie digs in, chewing loudly and quickly through his omelet-throwing. Each other looks to wish them luck, and in one symmetrical movement, everyone eats.

It's...heavenly. It tastes as good as Alfred's food, which they thought no one could match. Before they know it, they fill their plates and go for seconds, not long afterward.

Alfred is all but glowing with paternal pride by the end.

"Young Master Brucie, I had no idea you knew how to cook and so wonderfully as well!" Aldred compliments

Brucie looks up, one piece of sausage dangling from his mouth, reminding them he had no table manners. How in the world does Alfred of his world allow that? They would never know.

Brucie swallows before grinning widely. "Thanks. I love cooking when it's not attacking me."

What?

"Come again?" Bruce asks, blinking slowly as Brucie launches into tale after tale about his food reanimating and creating armies in the family fridge to fight for their freedoms. Or just eating as quickly as possible to prevent the food from coming to life.

He jokingly points at the plate with the sausage. "We better hurry before they develop eyes."

He then just goes back to eating like nothing and the rest of the table is left horrified. Eventually, Brucie excuses himself to go watch a mind-numbing movie- because he doesn't do anything- and they rush the food down to the cave for tests.

They all panic until the results come back like usual, and they realize that he is likely just joking. They all feel bad for doubting him, all but Tim and Cass, who knew Brucie had not lied or joked.

His food honestly did come to life in his old world. They just don't know what to do with that information.

Why did Bruce have to be weird in all universes?

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Cave Boy Au #Danny can cook...when his parents don't contaminate it.#The bats don't know what to do with a Bruce that can cook #They thought he was trying to poison then.

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 9 months

Text

Dorm Heads - With Zhongli Male Reader

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

I'm sorry this took so long to post, Mystery anon! I've been super busy with personal stuff so I haven't had a lot of free time to work on this. I got pretty burned out at Idia's part and I couldn't be bothered to touch it up honestly; so, sorry about that. I hope this is what you wanted. —Benny🐰

🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏

🌹 This hot headed boy was pretty surprised to find that the supposed magicless student from the orientation ceremony was not in fact magicless; seeing as you brought down a literal meteor and crushed the poor unsuspecting, feline resembling, monster. A meteor which appeared out of thin air and left no traces of damage behind after its impact. To say poor Riddle was confused and also fairly alarmed was an understatement.

🌹 Your mannerisms were very strange to him. You're very well spoken and composed; yet you're seemingly wise beyond your years. Why are you speaking as if you're in your 80s? Riddle won't lie though; for an old man you're quite good looking. If he didn't have a reputation to uphold and examples to set, he could stare at you all day long.

🌹 A dragon? Well… that explains a lot. No wonder the Dark Mirror couldn't detect magic in you; or at least, that's what he reasons with himself. Please; he needs an explanation, he's so confused. Upon seeing your dragon form though… Riddle is once again confused. Are dragons supposed to be that long? Not that he's complaining though; the way you make a massive bed out of yourself is hard to contest.

🌹 T‐Treasure? Him? That's— Now look here; no amount of buttering him up will make you exempt from the rules, You— you scoundrel! Riddle is not easily tricked! Even if he is a tad bit more lenient with you, no he's not. You have no proof.

🌹 You have a son now too!? Just what else aren't you telling him!? Riddle doesn't mind Xiao at all actually. He thinks that they're both similar in how dedicated they are to their work. The adeptus seems to only tolerate him though; which, while disheartening, he completely understands.

🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏

"How odd, the Dark Mirror perceived you as magicless, yet you summoned stone and earth just now. Just who are you..?"

🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾

🦁 Right off the bat Leona could smell it and immediately he knew; that ain't a damn human. However, he couldn't seem to pinpoint just what you were exactly. You smelled similar to his one sided rival, Malleus, but it was different somehow. In the end, he just chalked it up to you being a fae of some kind. He did find it bizarre that the Dark Mirror claimed you to be magicless and directly after that you used magic. Whatever, he just wants a nap.

🦁 Why the hell are you talking like that? You sound like Diasomnia's Vice Dorm Head. Seriously, who in the world says ‘quite’ anymore. But, Leona doesn't mind you going off on one of your long winded story times about your past. Your deep voice is very smooth and soothing to his ears and has lulled him to sleep successfully every time.

🦁 HA! He knew it; his nose is never wrong after all. Well… maybe Leona was off by a little; but you're certainly not a human. A dragon though? No wonder you smelled similar to his nemesis; except your scent is more earthy than the dragon fae's. Your dragon form makes a very comfortable body pillow to cling onto. Yes, he is indeed speaking from experience. What was said experience, you ask? You were taking a nap in your dorm room while in your dragon form and woke up with a wild lion beastman clinging onto you.

🦁 Treasure, huh? Okay, be prepared for him to call you nicknames of his own. Noodle is one that Leona uses the most; a way to endearingly tease you about the foreign look of your dragon form. Another one he likes to use is old man/gramps; a tease on the strange way you speak.

🦁 Oh dear Seven; please not another Cheka, he doesn't think he can deal with another gremlin in this lifetime. Thankfully for Leona though, the avian adeptus is far older than his hyperactive nephew and awfully cold too. The lion beastman is pretty sure that Xiao doesn't like him, but you've continually assured him that your son actually really enjoys his presence.

🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾

"Damn, you sure talk a lot, Gramps. Hah? I didn't tell ya to stop or anything, keep talkin' I'm almost asleep."

🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚

🐙 His immediate impression of you was actually very positive! You seemed incredibly knowledgeable and well spoken. But what really caught Azul's attention was your apparently unrecognizable magic. The Dark Mirror proclaimed you magicless and yet shortly after the proclamation you displayed an exceptional control over stone and earth when you suddenly summoned a large stone pillar to attack your rampaging familiar. Color him intrigued.

🐙 My, what a strange way of speaking you have; are you perhaps anything like Diasomnia's Vice Dorm Head where you're far older than you appear? Azul actually doesn't find your mannerisms all that strange to be honest, he thinks it just gives a certain charm to you.

🐙 Oh, so you're a dragon are you? Would you perhaps be interested in signing a contract with him? It's for your benefit, he swears. No? Damn. Your dragon form reminds him a bit of various aquatic animals that populate the Coral Sea. Don't mind him calling you any names of fish you've never heard of, okay. Sometimes, if he's tired enough, Azul will allow you to cuddle with him in your dragon form. It's quite comfortable, so he doesn't mind too much.

🐙 Azul doesn't mind giving nicknames to people, but he's not too used to receiving from anyone other than Floyd and sometimes Jade. So when you refer to him as your treasure, he's caught off guard and pretty flustered. He'll never not be red in the face when you call him by that pet name, but he has a few of his own for you. Oarfish is one that he uses often, mostly in a teasing sense. Another is Ropefish, this one is used sparingly, he never told you why though.

🐙 Xiao… does not like him. The adeptus made it very clear upon their first meeting when he held the blade of his polearm to the poor cecaelia's throat and fixed him with the sharpest glare Azul had ever seen. It would seem that you told him about the whole contract debacle that went down before his overblot and your son wasn't going to forgive him any time soon.

🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚

"Are you perhaps interested in making a contract with me? My services are quite high quality and will certainly benefit you in the future. Eh? S‐shady? Me?"

🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌

🪲 Kalim thought that you were really cool when he first saw you at the entrance ceremony! Not only did you help him put the fire on his butt out, you also summoned a huge meteor out of nowhere! “‘I will have order!’” You sounded so cool! Ah… but wait– didn't the Dark Mirror say that you were magicless? Oh whatever, it doesn't matter anyway.

🪲 Why do you talk like you're old? You look way too young to talk like that; maybe around Professor Crewel's age but that in itself is a stretch. Expect a lot of questions from Kalim; like a lot. How old are you really? Are you a fae? Were you raised by your grandparents? What do you mean you don't know what omg means? How did you get your hair so shiny? Why do you wear clothes like that? Where are you from? Do you have a job? What do you do for work? Why are you looking at him like that? Huh… who's Hu Tao?

🪲 A Dragon!? That's so cool! Our precious boy was completely blindsided by the revelation that you were, in fact, not a human. When you reveal your dragon form to him Kalim is ecstatic, attempting to wrap his arms around your now massive form. Most times you'll be lounging on his massive bed while in your dragon form as he lays in the middle of your coiled body; running his fingers through the fur on your neck and pressing kisses to your snout.

🪲 While he certainly doesn't mind receiving nicknames and pet names, actually he loves it, it makes him happy, but Kalim isn't one to give nicknames himself, he prefers to use their birth names because it feels more intimate. However, he's not against it when you call him your treasure, he's very happy, it makes him feel all warm and bubbly inside. He might call you Cobra from time to time but it definitely won't be too often.

🪲 You have a kid? Can he meet them!? Please, please, please! Yes? Yay! Your poor emo son was immediately glomped by the eldest prince of the scorching sands as soon as he entered the room. Kalim was so excited that he didn't even let the adeptus speak before he vomited questions at him. Xiao actually didn't mind him at all, the golden retriever-like boy reminded him of a certain oni he once met in the Casm in Liyue.

🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌

"Why do you talk like you're old but look so young? Are you a fae like Lilia? What kind? Can I see your wings? Am I allowed to ask that? Wait! Was that rude!? I'm sorry!"

🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞

👑 Vil actually had a very positive but slightly strained impression of you. You were very well put together; a foreign beauty from another land if you will. Well dressed, well spoken and dashingly handsome; it would be a lie to say that he felt a bit threatened by your arrival to the NRC. Not only were you undeniably attractive though, you possessed an unknown magic that the Dark Mirror couldn't even identify. You were marvelous but mysterious, beautiful yet dangerous. He couldn't help but find himself lost in those glowing amber eyes as you summoned a translucent shield around yourself.

👑 Goodness you're like that Lilia fellow from Diasomnia, only taller, far more charming and much less with the times. Truly, your lack of knowledge about modern technology and tendency to forget your wallet is astonishing. You're like an old man trapped in a young man's body. Don't worry though, Vil will do his best to lay it all out clearly for you.

👑 I'm sorry, you're a what? Could you repeat that darling, Vil doesn't quite think he heard you right. Oh, a dragon, well… okay. He's never seen a real dragon before but something about that form of yours seems a bit… off should he say? You actually resemble more of a snake in his opinion. He won't cuddle with you in your dragon form, unfortunately. His clothes are far too expensive to be covered in dragon fur; but he will give you a few pets from a good distance away. Take what you can get, man.

👑 I need you to know that Vil is the fairest of them all, he's heard it all by now. Well… he thought he did. It wasn't really the pet name but the sincerity in that loving tone you used when you called him your treasure. Oh, how it made him swoon! You rascal, flattery will get you everywhere with him.

👑 Xiao… is afraid of him. One time, you left the two of them alone for ten minutes and came back to a trashed room, a grinning Vil and a beautified yaksha that was trembling in embarrassment and rage. Your poor emo son was holding himself high up and far away from the beautiful man by hanging onto his winged jade spear that was stabbed into the wall. The Pomfiore prefect was right though, green really is Xiao's color.

🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞

"Are you sure you're a dragon? I've never heard of dragon being quite so... oddly shaped. No– I'm not saying you look bad, you're very majestic and dare I say intimidating, I simply haven't ever seen a dragon like you before."

🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱

💀 He recognized you from somewhere; he was sure of it, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. From his tablet, Idia watched as the Dark Mirror addressed you as magicless; though, shortly after, you summoned a pillar of dark brown and amber colored stone to subdue your fire spewing familiar. You were so familiar, yet he couldn't think of where from, it was like some divine intervention was preventing it. Weird….

💀 You… How are you so clueless about technology? Just where the hell are you from that you don't know what a phone is? Your young appearance betrays your age too… You're like an irl anime character! Idia is absolutely raving! Hold on; let him write down a couple catchphrases and design you a costume! Don't worry, he'll teach you all he knows about modern tech as long as you go to this upcoming cosplay convention with him. You can be his main shielding healer from ‘Outworld Collision’!

💀 A dragon? Okay… so? Diasomnia's Dorm Head is kind of a dragon, so what's there to be surprised about? Your dragon form is a bit strange looking, but it's not like he'd actually tell you that; then again he's seen a lot of weird fantasy shit in the media he consumes on the daily, so he has no real reason to comment. Idia enjoy sitting in the middle of your coiled up serpentine body as he plays his games and reads his light novels; enthusiastically explaining the plot as he goes.

💀 T‐teasure? Your treasure? This poor man just about died when you called him that pet name for the first time. You thought he was so valuable that you compared him to treasure? Hold on, give Idia a second so he can compose himself, he's absolutely blue screening right now.

💀 Your son actually still has yet to meet Idia; he always psyches himself up to meet the yaksha but then chickens out at the last minute. He's just worried that if Xiao doesn't like him then you'll change your mind about being with him. It's not that he thinks the adeptus would purposely try and break the two of you up, he's just super paranoid.

🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱

"T‐treasure? Me? Ah... t‐thank you... I t‐treasure you as well; you mean a lot to me. Um, g‐give me a second, I'll give you a nickname too.."

🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉

🐲 Malleus, of course, hadn't attended the orientation ceremony due to not receiving an invitation, however Lilia had told him all about you when he returned to Diasomnia. He was very intrigued to hear about how you didn't seem to be human despite your appearance. As well as how the Dark Mirror had mistakenly labeled you as magicless as you seemed to display expert control over stone and earth. You truly lived up to expectations when he finally met you during his midnight walk around Ramshackle. You were quite the beauty as well.

🐲 Your disposition didn't faze him in the slightest. If anything, it just confirmed Malleus’ assumptions that you certainly weren't a human. He and Lilia speak in the exact same way as you, so he has no reason to be concerned nor intrigued about it. However, your habit of forgetting your wallet is a bit vexing.

🐲 You're… a dragon? Really!? Oh, you have absolutely no idea just how extatic he is to meet another dragon! Er, well, he isn't exactly a dragon, but he is close to it. Whenever you show him your dragon form, he's even more in awe of you than he was before. Truly, you were the most majestic creature he has ever had the pleasure to bear witness to. He'll happily show you his own dragon form too; expect to set aside a few hours once every week so that you and Malleus can cuddle together in said forms.

🐲 Your Treasure, you say? My my, you're quite charming aren't you? Now, Malleus isn't one to be easily flustered, but knowing how important treasures are to dragons, you're practically getting down on one knee when you call him that. Of course, he's not cruel enough to leave the sentiment unreturned, so he's taken to calling you his jewel or his fallen star in reference to you coming from another world.

🐲 Believe it or not, Xiao actually tried to kill him upon their first meeting. The yaksha had mistakenly thought that he was a demon that had somehow followed you all the way here. Thankfully though, you calmed your son down, explained the situation and introduced the two. Malleus actually took quite the liking to him despite the initial frosty reception; saying how the adeptus reminded him of a more quiet version of Sebek.

🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉

"My, look at you. Such a gorgeous mane of fur, those glossy brown scales, curled horns of glowing amber, and those cute whiskers you have. What a magnificent creature you are, my darling."

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

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cumikering · 6 months

Text

Neighbour Ghost x reader 4

2.4k | fluff Simon liked the way you looked at him (part 1) (part 5)

“Why was the strawberry crying?” Simon asked, casually buttering his toast that Saturday morning.

“Why?”

“’cause it was in a jam.” He looked too proud of himself as he took a bite of his toast.

You laughed, looking up from the near empty jar you were trying to clean out with your butter knife.

He loved seeing your bright smile as you sat there across the small table. Even that this was his first breakfast with you, it was better than dinner. In the gentle sun, your eyes were even lovelier, wisps of hair around your face like a halo. The building was far quieter at the hour and you felt closer, like you were all his in this quiet corner of the world.

“Luv, I was wondering if you could teach me how to bake? If you don’t mind.”

“But I’m not a very good baker.”

“Bollocks. Your pie was mint.”

You chuckled. “Okay, that one I can.”

After breakfast, you laid ingredients on the counter next to the recipe - your handwriting distinct, pleasant. Were you ever going to write something for him? A little note would be more than enough, but if he could ask, he’d prefer a letter, maybe, for when he’s away thinking of you.

“Would you like an apron?” You held yours up, with a cat print peeking out of the pocket.

He chuckled, looking over as he washed his hands. Would you like him more in one? “If you reckon I need it.”

You tied it around his waist and let out a small giggle at the sight. “So you want to cut the butter into smaller pieces,” you said, working the butter into the flour with the back of a fork before handing it over to him.

Simon pressed the fork onto the butter, but the sheer force of it made flour fly out of the mixing bowl.

“Shite,” he said under his breath.

“Gently.” You placed your hand over his, pushing it down. “This way.”

He took a breath as he watched how you did so easily, but most of all, revelled in your touch. You’d already held hands, but this was something else. He wished you didn’t let go. And you didn’t, instead wrapping an arm around his waist, watching, as he proceeded with the job you assigned.

He peered at you and you nodded approvingly.

“Now tip that out and fold the dough over itself until it comes together - no dry flour left.”

He dumped the lumpy, powdery mess onto the board and brought it together with his large, awkward hands. But a few folds in, the dough started to transform into a cohesive ball. His brows rose in amusement.

“Look at that, you’re a natural!”

He chuckled to himself as you beamed at him proudly.

Next came the filling. You placed the peeler in his palm - the very same one from last week - his fucking nemesis. He picked up one of the apples, dwarfed by his hand, hoping he had better luck with rounded objects.

He didn’t. He was taking off chunks off the pitiful fruit. He should have come prepared and asked his mum how to peel apples without looking like he was about to stab someone. They certainly didn’t teach you how to use a peeler at the butcher.

“I like to do it this way.” You lightly took the tool from him and demonstrated with another apple. “Hold it here and pull away, like this. Even pressure for the thinnest peel.”

Thanks for not calling me daft.

Following your advice, the assignment didn’t turn out to be that hard. You put on some music as he cored and cut up the apples. At least he was far better with traditional knives.

“Quality control,” you said, popping a piece in your mouth.

Simon chuckled, placing the knife down as he turned to you. “Any good?”

“Mhm. Sweet, but tart enough.” You reached for the mixing bowl again, but he caught your wrist, making you look up at him.

“Would you please let me kiss you?”

You blinked and his heart stalled in those few silent seconds, but you stepped towards him, clutching the front of his black shirt. He sighed as he leaned in, arm around your waist, finally tasting your lips - perfect just like he’d always imagined them to be. The apples were indeed sweet.

You pulled away and bit down your smile, eyeing him from under your lashes before looking away. He too couldn’t stop the grin that crept up his face, nor the thumping of his chest. He picked up the knife and continued the task at hand while you stood next to him measuring out the rest of the ingredients.

On the occasions he looked over to make sure he was following your directions correctly, your gazes met and you turned away, hiding your face behind your cup of jasmine tea. He found it endearing.

The crust he rolled out looked mangled but you reassured no one would be able to decipher the patchwork when it was all done. As he brushed the top of the pie with egg wash, he nodded when you asked if you could take a photo of him.

You gave him a little peck when he finally closed the oven door, just like you had each time he finished a step. He felt like a dog, getting a treat for every good behaviour. The pie felt like a chore now. Could he not dive into all his treats already?

You sat on the couch as the pie baked.

“I’ve always wondered how far your sleeve goes. Does it extend to your chest?”

“Just a sleeve.” He pulled his shirtsleeve up revealing the entirety of his monochrome tattoo.

Your lips pursed. Did he look that good that it flustered you? You were adorable. He liked the way you were looking. Could you never look away again?

“Would you believe me if I told you I had a nipple ring?”

You laughed, tearing your gaze away from his arm. “No way.”

“It was a stupid bet I lost shortly after I enlisted.”

“What was it?”

“It’s too embarrassing. Maybe next time.”

Simon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to him as he leaned back. With your hand on his chest, you closed the gap and he just wanted to melt into a puddle against your soft lips. Your breath hitched as his fingers ran down your spine.

You lay on top of him, and his wary fingers toyed with the ends of your hair. The both of you remained silent in each other’s embrace, kissing occasionally, until the timer on the oven went off.

“What do you want for dinner?”

Simon took another bite of his pie that he had to admit tasted far better than he expected it to, perhaps even as good as yours if he was generous (if he closed his eyes anyway). No soggy bottom, at least. Merry Berry would be proud.

“I’m going to the soup kitchen, so I’ll get something nearby after.”

How could he forget? It was the first Saturday of the month.

“You need to pick up loaves from the bakery, yeah? Need me to drive you?”

You smiled. “I’d really like that if you don’t mind, actually. Oh, I need to text Ben, in case he forgets.”

“Ben?”

“Your mums’ boss. We pickup leftover bread there at a discount.”

As you buckled up in his SUV, he realised he never got to hand you your gift last night. He reached for the bag in the backseat.

“For you.”

You pulled out the grey fabric and that beautiful smile bloomed across your lips again.

“Oh, Simon, that’s lovely.” Your fingers traced over the little patch on the left side of the chest. A slice of apple pie. You looked up at him. “Thank you so much.”

It was impossible for his heart to not skip at such a sight.

As you settled the payments with Ben, Simon helped you haul the crates of bread into his car. He was glad he was around this time to help you out otherwise you’d have to take a taxi all by yourself like you always did.

“Ben, mate?” As Simon carried the last of the crates, he stopped at the door which the older gentleman was holding open. “You reckon you’ve got anything to do with how the bastard found out my mum works here?”

He shook his head. “I don’t even know him.”

“Did you contact the coppas? Ran a background check on her perhaps?”

Ben’s eyes widened. “Oh, I had no idea-“

Mr. Riley must have played the worried husband and reported her missing back home to have been notified.

He sighed. “No worries, Ben. It’s not your fault.”

“R- really?”

He felt bad about how the old man gripped the door, still looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m just glad you were there with her. Oh-“ He fished out a wad of cash from his back pocket and handed it to Ben. “To cover the discount. See you around, mate.”

Still in disbelief, he flinched at the pat on his arm.

At the facility centre, the lieutenant effortlessly carried the load into the kitchen, but he lingered at the building’s entrance.

“You reckon there’s anything else I can help with inside?”

You smiled. “Always.”

Perhaps Simon should have asked what the menu was before offering a hand, but he was glad it was the humble garlic bread and that his slicing and buttering skills were decent. You introduced him as a friend to the other volunteers, who were polite (or scared) enough not to question how close he stood by you. But was it bad if he wanted more, if he wanted them to ask who he really was to you?

At 6, people started pouring into the hall. Some knew you by name, greeting you with a grin that faltered when they laid eyes on the stony lieutenant next to you. It must have been comical how the both of you looked behind the small table handing out garlic bread, his frown a stark contrast to your bright self.

But he was having a grand time simply being close to you, seeing you and your friends making people smile. His pinky trailed down your hand.

You looked up at him, shoulder bumping his arm. “You keep our country safe. That’s why we get to have nights like this.”

He smiled when you held his hand. He supposed he was a tiny, tiny bit responsible for this. Your reassurance gave him a new sense of pride, that he was doing something.

After a late dinner you insisted Simon pick, the both of you headed home. When he made it to your flat in the baggiest shirt he owned, you were on the couch, freshly showered just as he was.

You should be kicking him out for bothering you even at this hour, so why did you take him by the hand and lead him to your bed instead? He didn’t resist when you lay next to him, your hand propping your head up.

His heart raced with you this close, watching your soft eyes travel over his face that he didn’t feel deserved to be mere inches away from your beautiful one.

“Simon Riley,” you said quietly, your thumb tracing his lower lip.

“Hm?”

“You’ve got a pretty name.”

Even my last name?

Your gaze flicked up. “Your eyes are really pretty too.”

His eyes fluttered close as he let out an uneven breath.

“You’re beautiful.” Your fingers trailed down his scruffy jaw.

He was certain now his chest was about to explode. Were you high? What did you see in him?

He’d never been touched so carefully before, gazed at so softly. Not even by his first and last love, his childhood sweetheart, whom the thought was the one before duty got in the way. It had been so long ago that he’d forgotten what it felt like to have a bit of peace, to just be - if things were ever this pleasant.

Each ‘a little more’ of you carried him further and further, and he’d floated a little too far from shore - the shore which had thinned into a distant line in the horizon, foreign from where he was as he threaded.

Wasn’t this only going to end one way? He was playing with fire, going down a slippery slope, to be in involved with you as this mess of a man. He did terrible things for a living. He wasn’t good enough for you, couldn’t you see? Or were you too compassionate to understand? It was all the more why he shouldn’t be here with you, in your bed, under your touch, even when he didn’t ever want to leave this flat of yours.

But you let him stay anyway, even after the shameful admittance of his past. Could it be that it didn’t matter to you, that for the first time he was alright as he was, despite his shortcomings? Perfectly loveable, as you were in his eyes?

Hope glimmered in him. I want to be good enough for you.

“Why are you so… nice?”

You took a moment to reply. “It’s easy to be. Being nice is free.”

It was not. Nothing was, but who was he to break your heart?

“Have you not been hurt from that?”

Your lips quirked into a resigned smile. “Unfortunately so, but sometimes it’s worth it.”

He pulled you in, his fingers tangled in your hair as you let out a soft giggle against his lips. When he eventually let you out of his grasp, a little breathless, you flicked the bedside lamp off.

You yawned. “If you’re heading back, please slide the key under the door.”

He didn’t want to. He scooted behind you, a heavy arm around your waist.

“Okay, I’ll tell you what. The bet was that Arsenal was going to lose to Man U. Well, they didn’t, but my left nipple did.”

Your body shook with laughter. “Of course it was a football bet.”

He smiled into your hair. “Goodnight, luv.”

“Night, Simon,” you mumbled.

Pressed up against you in your soft bed, so cosy with your scent surrounding him, his eyelids soon grew heavy.

His worst demons could visit in his dreams again, but nothing was going to take him out of your bed that night. Maybe, this time, things really could be alright for once, and not only in his favourite flat in Hereford.

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @astraluminaaa @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @nocturnalreader106 @sparrowgalaxy @lyenera

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vivinens · 1 year

Text

a lover's game !

characters: neuvillette, wriothesley & navia.

summary: little things they notice about you.

warning, minor fontaine story spoilers. gender neutral reader. here's a few short drabbles, hello tumblr!

Neuvillette, while famously intrigued by human behavior, often finds himself completely fascinated with you in particular.

For all his objective understanding of worldly matters, he is still confused as to why he specifically craves your attention. It's utterly strange, really, how his eyes seem to trail after your movements and expressions with more care than he would show to others.

You smile differently, when speaking to him. He's picked up on this after numerous conversations involving you two and a third party. When speaking to Monsieur Neuvillette (he often wonders about the soft way you say his name), your tone is easy and your smile is—for lack of a more appropriate word—entrancing. But, the moment your attention turns to the third party, that smile is dimmed.

At first, he simply chalks it up to you wanting to get in his good graces. After all, he's had no shortage of humans attempting to get close to him in order to satisfy their own desires. However, even with his lackluster social skills, he can see how your behavior is different from the people trying to appeal to them for their own merit. Your flustered sentences and bright eyes were not the same as others using flattery to gain status among the court staff.

...Perhaps he should ask Navia about it. Not for the first time, he curses his own lack of social understanding.

Wriothesley is not usually the kind of man who finds himself hung up on trivial details. He spends too much time working and worrying as it is; so why should he make life more complicated for himself?

There were some things he can't help but notice when it comes to you, though. It's midday when he overhears you mumbling to yourself about a new treat from Café Lucerne you'd like to try—as well as something about you having already spent all your "fun mora" for the week. You had sighed to yourself at your own respective desk all afternoon, and the sheer longing he could sense made his eye twitch.

You arrived to your work desk the next morning to see a wrapped gift box atop it. You had gasped when you opened it to reveal the outrageously expensive cake you had been craving all week. Wriothesley couldn't stay to further see your reaction, as to not raise suspicion, but he was content nonetheless.

It was when he arrived at work the next day that he realized—after seeing a steaming hot cup of coffee set on his desk beside a signed thank you note—that you're more observant than you let on. After all, he had taken great care in not letting it be known he was the one who gifted you the cake.

He takes a sip of the coffee. It was the way he likes it. Yes, you were very observant, indeed.

Navia has always had a soft spot for her underlings. She remembers their birthdays, their favorite songs, and those who they would prefer to work alongside. She claims it's her duty as their boss to know such things—although, in the opinion of many, she often goes above and beyond.

However, if you were to ask any of Navia's other subordinates, they would probably say she tries to understand you best of all. You have known one another for a long time, and this friendship was something she held very dearly—especially after the passing of her father. You were a beacon of light in those times, when the world seemed against her and her father's memory.

In some ways, she wondered if she was... taking advantage. You worked hard to support her and Spina di Rosula, and earned hardly nothing in return. Pay was rocky and sometimes even scarce. What if your talents could be better used elsewhere? What if you truly did want to leave? What if—

"You're overthinking again, Navia," you sigh, and before she can even think to respond, your hand is reaching to feel her forehead. You're sat beside one another on a bench, taking a small reprieve after a day spent out and about Vasari Passage. "Hm, I'm surprised you don't have a fever. You've been acting strange all day," you say, tilting your head. "You would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?"

The genuine worry in your voice makes Navia's heart flutter. "No, no, nothing at all!" She exclaims with more confidence than she feels. She seems to be doing that a lot lately. "But... thank you, for worrying about me. You shouldn't have to."

You frown. "I care for you—perhaps more than you understand, Navia. You don't have to speak about it now, but if something is troubling you, I will always lend you an ear."

Sometimes, Navia finds you truly are too understanding of her emotions. Instead of responding, she nods wordlessly, lest the things she wants to say so desperately clog her throat, and reaches to rest her hand against yours. You don't pull away, and the loud hammering of Navia's heart continues in her chest. It does not stop for a long while.

#neuvillette x reader #wriothesley x reader #navia x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #💬 vivi is typing

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rkiveinmarvel · 6 days

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upon a different life - james bucky barnes des. barnes never trusted you, not once. but upon a different life, he would. notes. angst/comfort, establishing relationship, slow-burn, enemies-to-lovers, i miss bucky, avengers being siblings (and weak for plot),mentions of violence,

hello! it's my bucky fic! i had a bucky fic back then but I deleted it anyway, this was supposed to be a one part but i got carried away, enjoy barnes knowing you! *i wrote this around 3am so, if i have some mistakes, i'm sorry!!*

(part i) (part ii) | w.c: 3.5k

James Buchanan Barnes is slowly getting used to in living with Avengers and the era he is in, in general, he enjoys the slowly yet steady step to forgive himself and earn forgiveness to those people around him as well familiarizing the more advanced world, but nightmares and remarks of his past action come and go; everyone notices it, especially his friend Steve Rogers, but despite this minor setback, he still move forward because it’s not every day, that you die in the 80s and woke up 75 years later.

In terms of forgiving, the sergeant doesn’t know if the genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist have forgiven him—it’s not a secret Stark gives the money and sponsor on the compound they live in but despite his hesitation to live with them, Stark still offered him—it might be a silent agreement with Rogers but somehow, Barnes hopes Stark acknowledges how sorry he was.

But among other things, he wishes he can finally get used to. He finds himself not getting used to you. Even the entire team knows how much James hates you; to you, it’s no secret: you’re his last handler afterall and if the tables are different, you would hate Barnes too. Before Zemo took control of Barnes as Winter Soldier, you were his last boss, a menace actually, you would let him be used. He gets used by someone, you get rich, a simple deal between HYDRA and you. But that changed, when the Winter Soldier regained his memory; with no leverage in making a deal with HYDRA, the Black Widow offered you a place to stay.

It was a nice place, really, a lot nicer than the one you lived in, except, maybe for the fact that you’re still under someone jurisdiction: while the sergeant is able to roam around the city, you keep staring at the wonderful electronic tag in your ankle: in your deduction, you believe that the Avengers are only keeping you alive because of what you know—it’s not even sympathy why the Black Widow offered you stay with them, it’s more of a business.

From the moment you receive glares from everyone in the room, you know damn well that this is just another business. So, it is indeed a surprise, when the A.I enters your room.

“Ha, did Stark send you to check on me again, Vision?” You asked as the artificial intelligence gave you a look. Despite the team’s lack of enthusiasm with you, Vision, Clint, and Thor are the only ones who seem to talk to you. You have talks with Natasha, Tony, and Bruce as well, but it is more of a business than a talk.

“No, I was wondering if you wish to join me, Clint, and Wanda to watch Dick Van Dyke, she seems very excited about it.”

“What makes you think she wants me to join you guys?” You asked hypothetically.

Vision nodded as he glanced at your electronic tag. “If it makes you feel better, they don’t really hate you that much. In my defense, I think you only did the things you have done because you want to survive.” You scoffed as you said that.

“Well, tell that to Sergeant Bar–” but Vision cut you off. “People won’t always use you. The sooner you learn that, the sooner you realize you’re more than just a HYDRA pawn.” You stared at him, as he continued. “At least, that’s what I observed with Sergeant Barnes.”

“Thanks, Vision.” You gave a bland smile, as he left your room. A part of you wants forgiveness, but for someone who learnt life in a hard way, you’re hesitating to give this one a try. Yet for once, a robot was more human than you.

A year after an endless discussion between the Avengers, they decided to remove the electronic tagging and let you roam freely, but still under their jurisdiction. Somehow, Stark and Banner acknowledge your knowledge while the rest give respect to your fighting ways and quick judgment; well, all of them are getting used to you. Well, maybe except for Bucky. Steve told you it takes time, but to your knowledge, it won’t take time because it won’t happen. You accepted the terms that Barnes will not and never forgive you, you don’t blame him though, mostly you blame yourself.

In this scene, you finally learn to adjust, not going out of your room if he was outside, not training–the same time as him, and definitely not talking to him; even a spare glance, felt like a struggling pain of unforgiven lingering. The team respected Barnes more than they respected you, but somehow, it felt like you finally belonged to something. Well, atleast, that’s what you thought.

Their mission to infiltrate HYDRA failed terribly, despite the information you gave them, they weren’t prepared and outnumbered. Despite their failure, they were able to take a hit on HYDRA’s camp, it’s not much but still affected HYDRA. As the quinjet landed on the hangar, the medical team supported those who were injured. A lot of them were, including those who sometimes get out without a scratch.

In the med bay: you saw Clint and Sam—they somehow, took a toll, as you walked further, you saw the entire team taking care of their small cuts, with them helping another, they were able to close the wounds, well, maybe except for the Winter Soldier—or as they call him the White Wolf. On the back of his right shoulder, he was bleeding badly, despite having all the needed things to tend his wounds around him, he sat on the bed feeling out of place, besides it’s only a shoulder wound.

Due to the lack of people in the med bay, you offered help in the team. As you finished to tend some of the team’s wounds including Rogers’ and Romanoff’s. Your eyes met a struggling Bucky Barnes, grasping his right shoulder with his metal arm. Your footsteps were slow as you walk towards him.

“...Do you need help?” He wanted to say no, everything part of him says no, but as he glanced that there’s no person who can help him in his injury, he nodded. Afterall, you’re also the one who patches him up whenever he gets injured in his missions back then.

You carefully clean his wound as you tend him, you wipe the dirt and the things visible that might infect the wound, as you try to start a talk. “Was it bad out there? In the mission, I mean..” He just let out a grunt, which you expected, but he replied with. “They have three more Super Soldiers and one enhanced, just like Wanda.”

You didn’t respond, just continued stitching his wound. As you finish, you put on some bandages as he asked. “Did you know?” Barnes asked.

“Did you know about the Super Soldiers?” He asked again, for a quick moment, you realized that he is still an assassin, you felt his anger and bloodlust. At that moment, you wish you didn’t work with HYDRA. In truth, you didn’t know where they were but you knew HYDRA didn’t stop making them. But your stuttering left the Sergeant furious even more.

“I–I..” That was the only thing you could say when you suddenly felt his metal hand around your neck, at other times this can be hot and daring, but at this time, you were damn sure that the Sergeant would be able to crack your neck: he could kill you. The team in the med bay immediately sat up.

“Buck, put her down.” You assumed it was Rogers who was talking to the Sergeant. As it was getting hard to breath, James starts to explain that you knew there were Super Soldiers, in that Rogers asked you.

“Did you actually know?” Barnes shook you, as you met the Captain’s eyes. “I did.” Before James finally kills, you continue. “I didn’t know they were stationed there.”

If this was a HYDRA facility, they would’ve shot you despite you telling the truth, Wanda nodded, a confirmation that you were telling the truth. Steve asked Bucky to let go of you, with an angered stare, he let go. As you try to catch your breath, you notice some of the bandage of Rogers came off. You reached your hand to help him but a metal hand covered your wrist.

“Stop pretending to be a good guy, we know you’re глупая игрушка of HYDRA.” He grabs your wrist tighter. “You’re not even part of the team.” That was the last straw, you pulled your wrist away, as you searched for someone to stand with you but all you saw was them looking away from you, even Vision. You nodded as you felt some tears sting. You never actually belonged in the team. Just like Barnes said, a глупая игрушка.

A stupid toy.

Stark spotted you, making tea in the middle of the night. “So, you’re the one that’s drinking tea.” His voice echoed in the empty kitchen. You nodded as you asked him if he wanted some, as he nodded. “Heard what happened.”

“Of course, you do.” Stark eyed you as you finally sat down and Stark rolled his eyes. “I forgave Terminator a while ago.” You looked at him.

“I know he took everything from me, but, I guess it’s just the way it is…Pepper is really good at convincing , I give her that, well, maybe because we–”

“Are pregnant…?” You asked, in which Stark immediately shook his head and chuckled. “Well, no, but, I just want peace, you know.”

“That’s a bit out of character.” You commented. “Ah, the secret service have their humor.” The billionaire chuckled. As he glanced at the stair towards the rooms. “You did not know about the soldiers but, the information you gave was really helpful. We can start with that.” As Stark stood up. He added.

“Oh, and next time, make sure you suit up. You can tag along in the mission if you want, secret service.” Stark walked away with a smug smirk. “You sure, they’ll allow me in the field, Mr. Stark?”

“Maybe not. But, we have a higher chance of winning if they don't know what they’re up against.” He said as he left. But, when the morning comes, there’s no trace of you—only the cup of tea you shared with Tony and a room filled with your stuff, as well as, a folder with all of HYDRA’s information and coordinates in sticky notes. As the team assembled, they wondered if you were stolen from them or you were actually planning to betray them a long time ago.

And there’s only one way to find out.

As the Avengers rode the quinjet, Stark drove peacefully as Romanoff shared her side. “Steve, if we do this and see her there, we can’t save them like we did back then.”

“We didn’t save her, Romanoff. We used her…” Steve added. “But, you guys cared for them too.” His eyes fall on Bucky. “Buck, I know this is—”

“It’s a mission. As long as we’re done. I don’t care what happens to them.” James added.

As they reach the base of HYDRA, with the coordinates in the folder, they immediately search for you, but to their mistake, they fall right into a trap. Not even their strongest and the witch was able to see the trap, as they sat and chained in chairs, Natasha cracked a joke.

“This is probably their revenge.” In which none of them find them funny. Especially the guy with a metal arm. As the time passes with the endless blabbering of the man on the computer, lights and warning signs alarmed the area: as the Avengers look for an escape. It was an unfamiliar site, even for Bucky, all of the soldiers on HYDRA are getting deployed, what could possibly be the reason? As the chain, holding the Avengers finally loose, they stood up immediately, they ran in the door meeting you.

“ROGERS?!” You asked breathlessly. They were all confused but much more concerned about the blood painting your entire body. “Oh, it’s not mine.” You said in a smile. “We have to run, quinjet is outside the building.” As the team sprinted outside, surprise to see the number of bodies you took down.

“You took them all down?” Natasha asked as the quinjet was finally visible. “Ah, yeah. I was raised by them so, nevermind, we have to go.”

It was going so well, but in the escape, a lot of missiles were aimed at the quinjet, as you, Sam, Tony, Wanda, and Sergeant Barnes fought the trailing jet in the back of quinjet, James rode a jet that is about to crash with another, he dodged the explosion but fell unconscious. Without thinking, you jumped out of the quinjet to save his unconscious body, hoping it’s water underneath all the chaos.

As the cold temperature of water hit you, you swam to get the sergeant’s body. People in quinjet knew what happened, but in the height of the situation, they had no choice but to continue to flee; hope to save the sergeant and you, tomorrow.

The sergeant woke up in a bed made of leaves and an open night-sky. As he familiarize with his surroundings, he saw the heat radiating from a bonfire and you sitting by the shore. It was as if you sensed him.

“You’re finally awake.” You said as you walked towards him; he immediately tensed up. “Oh, right.” you placed the sugarcane on the sand as you sat down. “Tony would probably search for us tomorrow, once the sky is cleared.” You added but he is still weary of your presence.

“What’re you playing at?” He asked, as you looked at him.

“What do you mean?”

“You being a goody-two-shoes, you know, none of us trust you.” He added finally, grabbing the sugar cane munching it. “And now, you leaving and suddenly appearing at the HYDRA facility, makes you more of a traitor than a help to us, so, what’s really your play?”

“...I want to help—”

“You have a funny way of showing it…” He grumbled as you replied. When you hear him grumble, you grab a swiss knife in your pocket, as you did when he was on guard but then, you place it on the sand and look at him. “I wasn’t there because I wish to betray anyone, I was there because…..”

You sighed and looked at him. “I wanted to apologize to you. What I did in those years is unforgivable, hell, even I would be angry if I was in your position. I wanted to apologize to you and your family, the one you grew up with. I want to see if HYDRA knows about them, in that way, I can apologize for manipulating Winnifred’s only son and Rebecca’s only brother.”

Bucky stared at you. “But who am I kidding, it is full of shit..I just really hoped because—I finally felt like I was part of a team. It’s a bit much, right? I was ahead of myself.” You chuckled. As you stare at the sea, you continue. “The swiss knife will be there, do whatever you want with it. Whether you used it for survival or against me, it’s up to you.” You smiled at Bucky.

“This probably will make you hate me even more but it truly means everything, I am really sorry, Bucky.”

That was the first time he heard you mutter his name. His first time seeing you smile. His first time hearing you say sorry; his first time seeing you. As the night grew deeper, you fell asleep, except for the guy with a metal arm, he fidgeted with the swiss knife and kept glancing at you. He has you, he can kill you, revenge. With a lot of contemplation; balancing his morals, he stood up, gripping the swiss knife tightly and went to your sleeping body.

He was really thankful that you were asleep.

You watch from upstairs as you see the God of Thunder, the White Wolf, and Captain America struggle with their new phone given by Stark.

“10 Bucks says Barnes will break it.” Sam told you as he stood watching the three as well. “20 Bucks says Odinson will be the one who will break it.” You added; to anyone’s surprise, it was Steve who made the screen crack.

“Dammit.” Sam muttered as you noticed his suit. “Got a date or something?” Sam just nodded and said something about meeting his sister in the bank, as he left, you called Barnes out. “Sergeant, we’re losing daylight, let’s go.” You said as he ran upstairs, leaving the compound as well, with you next to him.

He grips the swiss knife tightly, as he walks to your unconscious body as he shakes you awake. “Hey.” he muttered slowly: “Did you find them? Rebecca, I mean…” In your state, you would have said something random but as you met his eyes, he was just pleading as you nodded, he retracted the knife and handed it to you.

“Go say your apologies to them then. Bring me to them.” In that he awkwardly smiled but was sincere. “Okay.” As he went to his side on the sand, he then sighed, “It means everything, Thanks for saying that.” With a soft heart, you slept soundly and Barnes did too as the sand felt more like the best bed in town.

As you drive, Barnes asks how you find his family. “It was more of how HYDRA hid it, what surprised me is that—they don’t pick dead bodies up in the 40s?” In that, Bucky eyed you. “What do you mean? I fell of the—”

“If I was like one of the bosses, I would’ve.” Bucky sighed. “It was war back then, it was better to leave them, I guess.” You sighed and acknowledged his explanation. As you two reach Brooklyn, his eyes wander. “First time back in Brooklyn?” he nodded as he explained how different times were. He wasn’t talkative much, but you saw how his eyes lit up when the corners of Brooklyn hit him home. As we reach the cemetery, you glance at the grave.

“This is Rebecca’s and your Mom’s. I couldn’t find anything on your father, I’m sorry.” As Barnes walked out the car with flowers in his hand, you watched him but then he opened your door, “Aren’t you going to apologize to them too?” You smiled and got out of the car, “I did say that.”

We stayed there for a few minutes, as Bucky walked to get something in the car, he heard your voice talking to them as if they were still alive, it felt new to him, this side of you, it’s more warmer than before. He walks cautiously as he slowly hears a bit of your words. “Rebecca and Mrs. Barnes you have an amazing brother and a son.”

Despite everything and hate lurking in his chest towards you, his painful experience, he was willing to give this forgiveness a shot, because he was a human and not a machine.

As the two of you drove back to the compound, the silence was now replaced with a calmer one, which Bucky glanced at you. “Something wrong?” He asked you.

“No, it’s just, I don’t know what we should talk about, I’m still getting used to this too. Food that is warm, going to places that don't require guards, a bit warmer home, and bright home, and a house full of people, still getting used to it, I guess.” You explained.

“Well, me and you are on the same boat.” He added assuring you. The ride back was more of a relaxed one, as you heard Bucky’s stomach growl. “We should eat something.” Before he could protest, you parked the car and you two went inside a diner.

As you two sat, you kept glancing at the machine on the edge of the table, as you saw Bucky eyeing it as well. “What is it?” You asked him, as he cleared his throat. “A Jukebox.” but your lack of response made him look at you. “You don’t know what—”

You shook your head. “Well, with HYDRA raising me I only know the static radio.” You explained, looking away awkwardly. “Oh, it’s a music box, like a vinyl but you need a quarter to play a song.” He explained as you nodded. “I have a quarter.” As you give him the quarter, he signals you to press a button to play music. As you two eat a meal in the diner: the low volume of Chet Baker’s I Never Been In Love Before plays, it is safe to say that two people felt more human than before and a lingering warm feeling in their chest. Safe to say, they’ve never been in love before.

⚘ masterlist 1 | 2 | 3

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hpalways · 3 months

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the star you were | Ken Sato

The man, the myth, the legend, Ken Sato. He was seemingly arrogant in his interviews, as well as relatively cold and distant from his teammates, as if he was untouchable.

You always assumed he had some sort of superior complex.

So... how did you stumble upon him at some measly convenience store, sitting there in a plastic chair like some loner?

It was as if he had no friends.

You tossed a cold fresh can of beer towards him, to which he caught it easily, blinking at you in surprise for a moment. His usual neat slicked back hair fell across his forehead as messy black bangs and the glow of his eyes were dull, despite the beautiful specks that adorned them. Truly, his irises were breathtaking, like stars, now that you could see them so close in real life.

"What are you doing?" he asked, with an almost offensive tone in his voice.

You shrugged. "You looked like you needed one." Without asking for permission, you slipped into the chair across from him and cracked open your own beer, listening in to the delicious foam created at the top.

"If you're a fan, you could just ask me for an autograph instead of being rude and bothering me like nobodies' business."

"Not a fan. Just thought you could use the company."

He scoffed. "I'm the one and only Ken Sato! I don't need company from some rando on the street."

"If you say so... you do look more sad sipping on beer alone though," you relented, getting up from your seat.

He hesitated, running his fingers through his hair in slight frustration. "Fine... sit down."

You plopped back down with a grin. "I must say, you look quite different in real life compared to the big screen. A little worse for wear."

Instead of rebuking like you imagined, he sighed and drooped his head. He took a large gulp out of the can, slamming it down the small table. "Just dealing with some personal things right now."

"Ah, that explains the recent plays you've done."

He shot you a glare and shook his head. "I... just need to get warmed up. I'll be back in no time."

"Right..." you said, sniffing.

"What's your name anyway?" he asked, raising a brow at you. In his typical black tee and jeans, he draped himself against the chair, the muscles rippling shamelessly. Indeed, the years spent training on baseball paid off, shaping his physique majestically. Perhaps that was why he had so many fangirls, not for his plays but for his attractive looks.

"[Name]."

"And who are you to be sending insults my way every so often?"

"I'm not." You lifted your arms up defensively. "I'm just stating facts. But funny enough, I get you. It's not like my life's going perfect either."

"Are you another reporter? Trying to dig up my deepest darkest secrets?"

"I'm not. But what is your deepest darkest secret?"

"..."

"Sorry. But yeah, no reporter here. Just your average day in the mill office worker."

"Is that supposed to comfort me?" he groaned, rubbing his face in exhaustion. "That an average office worker relates to me?"

"Y'know, with that attitude, no wonder you don't have friends."

He grew silent, sipping more of his beer as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. His silence was your answer. But it also made you wonder. There had been a lot of rumors and gossip circulating around the Ken Sato. Was any of it real? And did some of it hit too close to home? Why was this man such an anomaly? Why had he not won any championships yet despite how impressive he was? Nothing added up.

"Struck a nerve?"

"I have friends," he said, averting his gaze. "They're just busy all the time."

"I see..." you responded, fighting off the smile from your lips. It was clear as day that he was lying, but you supposed you had been hard on him enough. "I'll be your friend."

"You?!" He eyed you up and down in dismay, before a lightbulb struck him. "Actually... yes! Are you good with babysitting?"

You choked midsip, confusion warping your features. "Babysitting?"

a/n: just a little bit of a ken sato drabble/dialogue play bc I'm obsessed with him right now hahahaha. lowk would write nsfw for this man oops, lmk if y'all want it LMAO.

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wordsinhaled · 2 months

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Thinking about Charles and his absolutely massive and enduring desire for praise... It makes me unwell, because it is everywhere, sprinkled throughout the entire season from the very beginning, and it isn't subtle at all.

Charles has this very clear thing where he is always expecting to be doubted—this really deep fear of fucking up. We see it come through especially hard with Monty specifically, actually. Something about Monty cawing at him, before Monty even becomes a person who ignores Charles' handshake and clearly prefers Edwin - seems to grind on Charles' nerves. (And, just to note, when Monty does pointedly ignore Charles introducing himself, Charles right away goes to wondering if he'd done something wrong: "I was polite, wasn't I?" and Crystal reassures him, "Yeah. You did good." Everyone can see it. Everyone can see what he needs, even Crystal, who just met him like, a week ago.)

Maybe Monty's cawing reminds Charles of his own unceasing and grating inner voice that says: You're bad, Charles. You're wrong, Charles. You're not enough, Charles. You're too angry, always too angry. Too broken, too weak, too unserious, too useless, too fake, too dangerous and everyone can see it. Who do you think you're fooling? Shut up and quit smiling about it and take what you deserve, which is nothing.

The fact that at the beginning, Monty isn't a person yet, he's just a bird, makes it extra-clear it's straight-up just Charles' insecurities coming through, provoked by his perception of being belittled, his fear of being not good enough, of being not-good period.

He was never good enough, when he was alive. He could never reach a point that pleased his dad properly, permanently. He could never reach a point where he fit in with the other lads, and eventually they turned on him. He chose to protect someone who was like him, different and defenseless and scared and alone, and it got him killed.

Edwin tells Charles he knows he can open the lock, and even that's still not enough to quell the little voice inside that says he's being doubted. And we get, "Yes, I can, crow, you'll see." He has to prove himself. To whom? To a bird?

Or is this his way of speaking, indirectly, to Edwin in that moment? Of trying to say, You're right, I can do it, you'll see. Your faith in me isn't misplaced. You weren't wrong to be kind to me in that attic thirty years ago. I can earn you if I keep being good. I deserve it. Please believe me.

(He doesn't grasp that Edwin already thinks Charles is the best person he knows. That he deserves everything good in the world and doesn't have to prove a single thing to be loved, adored, cherished. All he has to do is exist.)

And then: "Keep mocking me, crow. I'll make you my friend eventually. Everyone likes me. I'm a good sort of chap."

There it is again, the need to be good. the need to be liked. The need to be a good sort. Not a bad sort because if he's fundamentally bad then maybe he can make some sort of sense of why he's been hurt so much. Maybe that's why his dad did what he did to him; maybe that's why he got stoned and drowned to death. If everyone likes him eventually, he can keep from getting hurt again. if he's good it means he didn't deserve what was done to him and the world was wrong for it. (And indeed, when Monty seems to ally with him later, on the Case of the Creeping Forest, Charles points out to Edwin that everyone likes him eventually - an echo of what he'd told Monty at the beginning, but he's saying it to Edwin - as if to say, You see? I'm good enough for people. You were right to believe in me. I can be good enough for others so maybe I can be good enough for you, too.

But all of that, it's really still just Charles kidding himself; he knows better. If someone likes him, if he's convinced someone he's good, if someone—what the fuck—if someone is in love with him, like, romantically? It has to be a joke, or temporary. If it is real, he'll slip up somewhere soon enough and mess it all up, like he always does. Forever-love is something that happens for other people, not for Charles Rowland.

It's just a matter of which mistake he's going to make next. Was I too brown? Too weak? Too sensitive? Too compassionate? Too counterculture? Did I think about a bloke the same way I think about girls, in my head where no one can even hear? Which flavor of fuck-up will I be today, dad? Which one will I be tomorrow, world?

This post is getting a bit long, but I'll just point out Charles' relationship to making mistakes, since it comes up already in the second episode, after he breaks the enchanted vessel at the dandelion shrine. Important to note that Edwin doesn't actually tell him off for doing it at all; he just looks shocked it happened, and then explains it to Crystal as a statement of facts: 'We found the vessel; Charles dropped the vessel; now we need the vessel to trap the sprites.' He sounds a bit terse, maybe, but it's nothing much, for how blustery Edwin can often get when he really means to.

But Charles shouts at himself immediately when he drops the vessel; he goes to beating himself up, internally, instantly. And then, when they are explaining the situation to Niko, he's visibly bracing for his own part in messing it up, you can see it on his face - his mouth thins into a line, he's rolling his eyes, he's ready to be the fuck-up, so to speak, the reason everything went tits-up. When Crystal gets frustrated about him having dropped the vase, he gets apologetic - "Didn't mean to!" - and then defensive - "All right, all right, no need for you lot to pile on!"

What 'you lot' does he really mean? Edwin's actually being pretty reserved with the telling-off, in this instance. And yes, Crystal's annoyed with him for it. But I'm willing to bet a huge part of what's making him feel so on edge is the loud, loud, loud inner voice that's been punishing him since it happened. And then! He goes straight to fixing the situation—in a really ingenious way! In a way that completely compensates for his mistake, and solves their problem, and has Edwin awestruck praising him just minutes later.

And that's the thing, isn't it? The thing is Charles is brilliant. He's creative, artistic, and inventive, he thinks on his feet, he says he's the brawn because it's what he thinks he has to be to have worth in their partnership, but he's equally as often the brains. He creates loopholes, he survives by being convincing, in fact he makes himself a walking exception to the rules of the narrative by sheer power of will, when he becomes an Orpheus analogue who defies the text of the Orpheus and Eurydice myth he never even finished, and successfully saves Edwin from hell.

How often had Charles done this in life? Worked so hard to make up for even the tiniest mistakes, real or perceived, in ways that blatantly try to overcompensate for being weak, undeserving, wrong, inherently bad? How hard did he—does he still—overwork himself with his mental gymnastics; his insistence on placing himself in physical danger for others because it's the least he can do to be worth their time and attention and esteem; his suppression of every emotional impulse he thinks makes him awful and unsavory?

All he wants, so bad that it informs his every decision, is to be told he's good.

Each time it happens, it's like a tiny, pleasant surprise. And like an awful little game he plays with the world. Can he get people to think he deserves their kindness? Has he finally earned it? Now how can he keep it? Can he do enough sleight-of-hand with his cricket bat that they'll look past all his flaws and see something to love in him?

Each time he gets a kind word, a little morsel of praise, it's like, maybe it'll finally sink in this time—but he's not exactly holding his breath. Just like he's never enough, neither is there ever reassurance enough. Soon he needs it again. And again. And again.

And so it goes. To the point where he can't help but be so transparent about it that his praise thing can be seen from space.

#dbda #dead boy detective agency #dead boy detectives #charles rowland #cw child abuse #cw negative self-talk #cw internalized biphobia #CHARLES YOU MAKE ME ILL I WANT TO GIVE YOU A HUG

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sadokasochism · 5 months

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I am destroyed over the whole god/worshipper dynamic and have no idea how to adequately put it into words.

I mentioned in another post that Mizi could not fathom Sua ACTUALLY dying, or comprehend what death really meant, and attributed this to her relatively comfortable and sheltered life as the pet of Shine. She was not taught to conceptualise death as a loss, and she never faced any opposition to that world view. From what we know, she might have never really known true, lasting pain or loss before the end of Round 1.

However, her reaction could also be due to her placing Sua on a pedestal as her personal god and universe. She viewed Sua as her absolute everything, and why would any faithful worshipper believe their god could be killed? Only, while Sua was everything to HER, that perception did not carry over to their captors. Mizi's love and devotion was not enough to save Sua. Forces stronger than them both took her away like she was nothing.

How must Mizi have felt, having her perception of Sua as the centre of the universe shattered that way? Coming to the violent realisation that Sua was just another human, and that humans are indeed that vulnerable and disposable? That Sua could now only exist in memories and in the visions that haunt her? That Sua is not a god, but a ghost?

Now we look at Till's perception of Mizi. Again, in an earlier post I mentioned the tragedy of Till falling for someone who did not have a reason to leave. He had a lot of blind faith in Mizi, and it could be said that he idealised her as a paragon.

It's not hard to see how he reached this point. The poor kid had not been shown a lot of kindness in his life, and so meeting someone who was genuinely good and so full of joy must have had a huge impact on him.

However, his faith is still a blind one, but in a different way to Mizi's blind faith in Sua. He is happy to endure any amount of horrible treatment and does not expect anyone to help him. He doesn't resent Mizi for being so close to their captors, for her dreams stopping at Alien Stage. He doesn't resent her after he gives up on his chance at freedom and is subjected to who knows how many more years of pain and torment at the hands of their captors (Not that Mizi is at fault, Till made his own decision that Mizi likely never even knew about).

He sees Mizi's innocence and ignorance to the cruelty of their reality as something wonderful instead of a character flaw that prevents her from saving herself or her loved ones.

Sua has the same issue, seeking comfort and bliss within Mizi's brightness instead of acknowledging the cruel reality of their world. Maybe she felt sharing her perspective with Mizi would dim Mizi's bright spirit, and so she was more than content to wait out the clock with her god.

Maybe Sua felt that meeting Mizi, loving her and being loved by her in return, was nothing short of a miracle after the life she had lived before Anakt Garden. Maybe she felt in light of that, aspiring for something like freedom or a long, long life of happiness with the person she loved the most was asking far too much. The time she got with Mizi was already a miracle, why expect or demand anything more?

If Sua was afraid of Mizi losing her brightness, no wonder she was so affected by Ivan's lecture about becoming a source of trauma for Mizi after her death.

Ivan's view of Till as his god is a bit different. He is similar in that he doesnt seem to demand his devotion be reciprocated, he just wants his god to acknowledge him as a person, as someone that is at least PART of Till's universe, if he can't be all of it.

He is also very willing to become a martyr for his god while expecting nothing in return but Till continuing to live. He acknowledges Till as vulnerable and falable in a way that Till doesn't with Mizi, and Mizi didn't with Sua. He knows damn well that while Till is the centre of HIS universe, their captors certainly do not hold Till in that same regard. He knows that love and devotion in a vacuum does not save anyone.

Which is why he was always the one to free Till, to try and escape with him, and why he pulled the stunt he did in Round 6. Ivan knew that actually making an impact in this world required personal risk and sacrifice, because their captors don't give a fuck if you're in love or if that other pet-human they're about to kill means everything to you.

Till knew this too, but his idealised version of Mizi is too perfect to be broken and beaten down by this world the same way the rest of them have been. So he's still shattered by Round 5, seeing how far Mizi has fallen and then not knowing if she's alive or dead, but knowing for sure she is far out of reach. I wonder, did he regret not running away with Ivan at that point? Did he wonder what all those years of suffering were for, if he was just going to end up losing Mizi anyway? If this world was able to break her too, no matter what he did?

Mizi is gone and changed forever, and nothing he did could stop it. His love and devotion and sacrifice wasn't enough. He failed his god.

In Round 6, Ivan is faced with the same thing. His god has lost his fighting spirit, is changed forever, and Ivan's love and devotion wasn't enough to save him. The last thing he can give is his life, and hope that will be enough. Just like Sua. But he was never Till's god, was never even part of his universe, he probably won't even leave a ghost behind. So, the choice is obvious, really.

They're all so desperate for hope and connection in this lonely, painful existence that they make a person their entire universe, and then are repeatedly crushed when they are shown again and again that their soul-consuming love for one another is seemingly meaningless in a world that views them as infinitely disposable.

#alien stage #alien stage mizi #alien stage sua #alien stage ivan #alien stage till #alnst #alnst mizi #alnst sua #alnst ivan #alnst till #mizisua #mizitill #ivantill #basically i will never know peace again

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queenie-avenue · 7 months

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Sent from Below, Fell from Above. [pt.1] [pt.2]

—> if angels can fall, demons can rise.

⤻ reader is a female, reader is a bunny-type angel(?), canon-typical cursing, very bad use of 1920s slang, heavily inspired by @jazjelspen 's angel baby fic, death, betrayal, mentions of racism, abuse of men against women and sexism, angst, spoilers for all of hazbin hotel season one, flashbacks

notes: a rather long one, and wrote another small verse for readers to sing. I wrote it while slowing down the melody in Emily and Charlie's parts.

💌 ⤻ archives.

You walked into the broadcasting room, your heels clacking against the clean floor as you looked about before acknowledging that someone was already there.

"Ah, are you my newest assistant?" The man seated there had the widest grin on his face as he sat there, legs slightly spread apart as you gulped, nodding your head so meekly. Ah, to be human again, when you were too scared to even raise your head. "Haha, that's wonderful, my dear. I was told you had quite the resume. Most impressive for a young lady." You nodded your head. "Very... very impressive indeed." He smiled at you.

"You are impressive too, sir." You quipped.

"Oh?" He tilted his head.

You blushed as he narrowed his eyes at you. "Both of us... we- we're not exactly what society deems as... correct."

"Is that why you're working here? You relate to me?" The creole man asked, leaning against his chair as he tapped a lanky finger on his desk.

"No." You shook your head, your wild hair shaking alongside you. "I admire you. I want to be like you. I imagine it must have been hard for to get to where you are now." You spilled your heart out to this man, because for years, you admired how someone that was meant to be pushed out of what society deemed 'right' managed to rise to the top, to become a striking star in the radio world. "So I'm here because I want to learn how to become a star, just like you."

His eyes widened as you faced him with that determined look on your face.

"What a bright young woman." He rose up from his seat, sauntering his way towards you as you stood there, waiting.

Alastor grabbed your hand, bowing down as he looked up at you, that sweet grin on his face. "Alastor, my dear, pleasure to meet you." He said, before sealing your fate with a kiss on your hand. "I hope that we can get along well." You gazed at him with wide eyes, your eyes raking over his bronzed skin and brown — almost red — hair. Glasses lined his gleaming eyes.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

"Hey, bitch! I'm talking to you over here!" Adam's voice rang throughout your head as your head snapped up to meet the first man on Earth. You frowned.

You never liked Adam. He was stuck-up, and you had heard the stories of how badly he treated Lilith and Eve, it reminded you of your high-school friends who unfortunately fell into the hands of those abusive men they had to marry. Adam had the same air as them, just less... smart.

"You want me to show up to the trial?" You repeated.

"Yes!" Adam yelled.

"I don't mind. That demon princess annoys me a little. I don't understand why she's trying to redeem a murderer like him." You hissed. The fact that girl — who probably knew of his sadistic nature — associated with him, left a bad taste in your mouth. Though wrath was a sin, you felt resentment and wrath for Alastor, and envy for how he did not seem to regret any of his actions that led him to hell in the first place. Meanwhile, you had to deal with the nightmares that came with being killed. For the first years in Heaven, you woke up in cold sweat as you remembered the knife that went through your heart.

"Well then, babe," you disliked Adam, but a temporary truce would be fine. "Let's start heading there, shall we?"

You nodded and unflapped your wings.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

You flew up to the seat beside Adam, eyes narrowed as you watched Alastor promenade in with the Princess of Hell and that girl you still had no idea about. The way he walked was still the same as it had been years ago.

You met eyes with Alastor, mustering all your courage to send a look of malice his way, as Sera announced the beginning of court.

"We are gathered here today to determine whether or not a soul in Hell can be redeemed to the Heavenly Realm by means of this Hazbin Hotel." Oh, you just knew Alastor named that Hotel, he always did have a sick sense of humour. You almost snorted at the name too, but refrained from doing so.

Adam nudged you. "Now." He practically hissed. Out of spite, you almost didn't stand up.

"Objection!" You said as you stared down at the Princess, then at Sera. "I apologise for interrupting you, your royal highness." You looked down at her, then up at Sera, who glared at Adam, instinctively knowing it was his idea to rope in the innocent you into his plans. "I understand that as a Winner, I typically have no say in how Heaven runs things." You summoned up all your might as you met Sera's eyes, utilising all that courage you had back as Alastor's assistant into your heavenly body. "But I must disagree on the type of people the Princess of Hell is trying to redeem." You pointed a finger at Alastor, his eyes widening in amusement as you accused him.

"This man, I knew him from when I was alive, my heavenly council." You looked at all the archangels and others that gathered around. "He was the man who killed me. A notorious serial murderer from when I was alive. More of his victims are no doubt here too, maybe some in hell. But what doesn't change the fact is that someone as dangerous as him," You pointed your finger at Alastor again, your face turning red as he simply tilted his head towards you, like a gentleman greeting a lady. The council gasped as they all whispered about, some glaring down at your murderer. For once, you felt like justice was being served for how abruptly your life had ended in Alastor's hands."Does not belong in Heaven after all the souls he has killed in his time in the living. No matter how much he repents, taking away another human's soul is an unforgivable crime!" You exclaimed.

The rest of the council agreed, as the Princess and the girl beside her looked about, frantic. Alastor simply smiled up at you, his little bunny.

"Order in the court." Sera said, attempting to calm everyone down after you riled them up with your voice.

"You've always been such a good public speaker, my little bunny." You saw red, he dared to call you that intimate nickname in front of the Heavenly Court? After you had revealed his crime to everyone to see?

It seems that Alastor's nerve had not died with him.

"Why is he even here?" You questioned Charlie, your fiery gaze never leaving the trio below you.

"I am the host of the hotel, my dear!" Alastor said, "I should be here to support my fellow colleagues in their endeavours. What kind of co-worker — let alone friend — would I be if I let them defend their case on their own?"

You were about to speak when you were interrupted by that Princess.

"In the Hazbin Hotel, we believe that everyone can be redeemed!" The Princess exclaimed despite the loud voices drowning her out. "Please, you have to listen!"

"You don't even have evidence that this Hotel can work. If you do, we'd be glad to see it!" Adam responded sarcastically, challenging Princess Morningstar.

"We have a patron that is showing incredible progress." She said.

"Who?"

"Don't tell me it's him." You glared at the Princess, daring her to confirm your doubts.

"Angel Dust!" What an odd name.

"Oh yeah! The porn demon, he's totally worth being redeemed." Adam blew a Raspberry at them. That was... immature. Still, your cheeks almost flamed scarlet as Adam gave you context for who and what this sinner the Princess referred to was.

"Well, if you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into heaven?" She pointed at Adam as your eyes widened. You had never thought about this before but... what did a person need to do to get into heaven? Did they need to be perfect? Because if so, you certainly belonged in Hell. Then, you remembered Alastor and your mood soured to think that you might have been in the same spot as him.

What was even more shocking was when Adam began to get flustered, flabbergasted by Charlie's question as Sera inquired as to whether Adam was okay. You watched even more shocked as Adam cursed at Sera and began to scribble nonsense onto a paper and sent it down to the girl. You caught a glimpse of the paper and your eyes widened.

"Are you fucking serious?" The ashen girl by the Princess' side asked, and honestly, that was your reaction too.

Adam snapped his fingers as Charlie challenged him, your eyes narrowing as an orb of light began to reflect, glowing bright before showcasing a bunch of sinners... partying? Was that how partying looked nowadays?

"Heavenly people, what more do you need to see? The pornstar chose a night of debauchery, that's not a soul worthy of being redeemed!" You side-eyed Adam. He had done way more debaucherous stuff than you cared to admit, and plus, if not partying was one of the factors for how you could get into heaven, the parties Alastor dragged you to would have caused you to plummet to Hell already.

"Are you telling me you never had a drink with friends after a hard day?" The Princess was right.

Thankfully, Sera was much more forgiving and less stupid than Adam, considering that she eventually allowed the Princess of Hell to continue. Still, you glared at Alastor, annoyed that you and Adam's ploy to get everyone so worked up over the serial killer in the room had not worked.

If the type of people the Princess of Hell, Charlotte Morningstar, wanted to redeem was a serial murderer, you would never accept the idea of redemption.

Alastor did not deserve such happiness.

You continued to watch, and the more you watched, the more you empathised with this Angel Dust... the more you felt inclined to care for him. You felt your heart — that you had assumed turned to stone for the sinners down in hell — slowly soften into clay for this sad man. Yet, despite how sad he clearly was, he was so strong. Stronger than anyone you had ever seen.

"See! He did everything on your list! He was selfless, he stopped Nifty from stealing and stuck it to that Moth man!" Charlie exclaimed, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

"Well, b- then why isn't he here then!" Adam sputtered out. "Hm?"

"Why isn't he here?" Emily and You said in unison.

"Wait, none of you know what gets someone into Heaven?"

The rest of the conversation was a blur to you as you struggled with the idea that you had no idea why you were in Heaven. If you had done one wrong thing... would that have condemned you to hell with Alastor?

You had not even comprehended the fact that they had started debating their ideas in song till Lute who was seated beside you, began to insult the sinner that all of you had been observing. Your eyes had solely been focused on Alastor the entire time, but theh quickly shot to Lute.

"What are we even talking about? Some crack whore who fucked up already! He blew his shot like the cocks in his mouth, this discussion is senseless and petty!" Lute sang, and you almost reached out for her, to not say such crude things in front of the Heavenly council and certainly to not insult a victim of abuse. Yet Lute and Adam flew away first and you frowned even deeper.

"Gotta say I can't wait to-"

"Adam." You turned to Sera.

"Come down and exterminate you!" Your eyes widened as you realised the severity of this situation. You now understood why this Princess was fighting so hard for this hotel.

Adam was killing the sinners.

He was no better than Alastor. No, even worse. Adam slaughtered an entire group of people without mercy. You felt bile rise up from your throat as they continued to sing, the tunes of their voice banging against your ears.

"Whoops!"

"Guess the cat's out of the bag!"

"What's the big deal?"

They didn't even see what was wrong with what they had said. You almost stumbled back thanks to shock and your absurdly long dress. Your entire world was sent into a frenzy as you felt so disgusted with yourself, for thinking that you could work with Adam, for siding with Sera and Adam — though briefly — for the idea of extermination. You felt yourself fall back, but someone was there to catch you.

Alastor's shadows manifested behind you, holding you close to his chest. "Be careful, Sweetheart." He said, helping you regain your balance as you felt too much anger with yourself to be angry at him.

"If Hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie!"

"Emily-"

"If Angels can do whatever and remain in the sky! The rules are shades of grey, when you don't do as you say, when you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again!"

Their words resonated with you, and you found your heart thumping to the melody of the song.

"Don't look there." Alastor whispered as a red hand came up to your face, covering your eyes. "I don't like to see you stressed, my darling." The warmth of his hand felt like that time when he had surprised you on your birthday, covering your eyes before revealing the cake he had bought and the decorations he had put up for you.

Despite how he covered your ears, you could hear the court arguing amongst themselves.

That's when you heard it.

Sera's voice boomed throughout the entire court, facing the sinners with a verdict. "I'm sorry, but this court finds that there is no evidence souls in Hell can be redeemed."

"Oh fuck yes! I win, suck it, bitches!"

"You better save the date cunts, because we're coming to your hotel, first." That's when Alastor manifested in front of them, his shadows pushing Adam back, almost causing him to topple over.

"Not a very clever idea, chum, it's rude to curse at ladies." Alastor warned, the shadowy tentacles slithering about, ready to attack Adam.

"Ugh, son of a bitch!" Adam cursed as he grabbed out his guitar. "Or maybe, I can just kill you fuckers now." He took out his guitar-axe and in a flash of light, you flew towards them, shielding the trio from Adam's strikes with your wings. Adam flew back when his guitar-axe made contact with your angelic wings, enchanted by a spell that slammed Adam and Lute back, crashing into the wall.

"Just because you're a winner, does not give you the privilege to harm someone else!" You yelled, never having such a fit of rage in your life as you spread out your wings. You were a bunny; prey, never the predator. But as you spread out your Enchanted wings, you felt yourself grow angrier as you thought of how Adam — that sadistic motherfucker — no doubt killed multiple sinners. Sinners who were just like Angel Dust, misguided, but deserving of redemption.

"Are you seriously defending them right now, you crazy bitch?" Adam grunted as he glared at you.

"I'm defending the principle of it." You hissed.

Sera and Emily looked down at you. Sera, in particular, had a sour look on her face.

"You say that demons cannot be redeemed to Heaven, but why can Angels fall?" You questioned. "Lucifer himself, was once an angel, God's favourite angel!"

"If angels can fall, then why can't demons rise?" You looked towards the Heavenly council as you sang. "After this, will you really believe all their lies?" You questioned through song as Adam got up, knowing you had little time to convince the court. "The rules aren't black and white, who decides what's wrong and right? Can you say that this is justice when you kill them again?" You sang, pleading for the court to just look past their prejudices.

Just then, you heard a snap of Adam's fingers as a portal emerged from behind all of you. "No!" You yelled when you noticed how the portal was leading to a red fiery pit you assumed was hell, but before you could even protest, you had been pushed in by Lute, causing the rest of the four of you to stumble back down into hell.

tags: @duckydinglers @ghostdoodlen @belletifeshyl

#hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel fic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x female reader #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon

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rabbit-reveries · 1 year

Text

—𝑺weet Sister

Synopsis: Aemond fears his youngest sister might fall prey to Aegon's infamous appetite. So, as a dutiful brother, he decides to claim her before he can.

Warnings: Smut, canon-typical incest, innocence kink, slight degradation, pet names, praise, way too many "good girl"s, p in v sex, unprotected sex.

Word count: 5124

He watches his sister with one violet eye, trying to hide in his face the anger bubbling deep in his chest at the sound of her girlish laughter. She doesn't even realize, does she? No, of course she doesn't. Aeressa, innocent as spring's first bloom, gazes at Aegon with wonder, unaware of the web of lies he weaves to ensnare her attention. Watching is so hard— No, he can't risk letting his guard down. A second is all his brother needs. To protect her honor, he must continue to keep watch. In amazement, the girl turns to him and takes his hands in hers.

"Isn't it incredible, Aemond?" squeals her. Incredible indeed. The youngest of the five siblings and Daeron's twin, Aeressa has no way of remembering the event Aegon retells, but the second-born prince surely has, and it was nothing like in the words of the heir. Doesn’t his tongue burn from all this nonsense? Ever since the princess’ first signs of coming of age, he’d been pulling all sorts of stunts to try and capture her gaze, no doubt in hopes of deceiving their poor sister into buying his fake affection and giving herself to him. Aemond watched the same happen with Helaena years before. The fact that he still cares for Aeressa soothes his heart, a clear giveaway that his older brother has yet to succeed in his devious plans. Sweet, sweet Aeressa… Too precious for her own good. He holds her hand over his. If he could, he’d keep her locked to himself, safe from the dangers of the world and its men.

She laughs again, the glorious sound filling the dining table. The prince watches Aeressa blush as Aegon leans in to whisper something in her ear, clenched jaw and hand protectively over hers. Her expression is soft and betrays no alarm, but she turns away to rest her head on Aemond’s shoulder. He relaxes the tiniest bit. So she hasn't fallen. There is still time. Aegon seems to notice it as well, all the hidden messages in such a small act, and it is clear on his face. He’s been growing impatient, and Aemond pretends not to notice. Pretends it doesn’t frighten him. He knows his brother’s only been playing nice because the subject of the matter is their sister, but that he has no qualms over taking what he deems his. The servant girls are all so very terrified of him.

In what can only be a desperate measure, Aegon takes the hand that used to sit under Aemond’s and kisses it, leaning once more to whisper in Aeressa’s ear. Aemond turns to Helaena, hoping now would be the time for a jealous fit, but it is only a feeble expectancy knowing her. Characteristically, she picks at her food, seemingly unaware of her brother-husband's antics. It is only by the slight furrow of her brow that he knows the princess isn’t deaf and blind to the scene displayed in front of her. Alicent is sitting at the head of the table and watches her children with a look of worry. If she didn’t have the same look every time she gazed at them, Aemond might have considered it some small victory. Gods, don’t they see this indecency? Is he alone on Earth? Is he the only one who might be able to protect this girl?

When supper is over and all are dismissed, he notices how Aegon corners their younger sister before retiring. Aegon has never been one for subtlety, thank the Seven Heavens. Aemond runs after her, afraid to leave her alone in the empty hallway leading to her chambers.

“Sister!” he calls, glad to see her grin when she turns and notices it is him.

“Brother.” she exhales, one hand over her heart. “You startled me.”

“Why? Did you think it was Aegon?”

She bites her lip, and it’s all the answer he gets.

“Has he been bothering you?”

Aeressa half laughs. “No, not BOTHERING… He’s just… a bit pushy.”

Aemond walks to her, stopping when he stands by her side. She tries to avert his gaze, but he picks her chin between his thumb and index to force the girl to look him in the eye. “Be truthful, Aeressa. What has he been pushing you to?”

“Gods, Aemond…” says her, eyes big as the moon set on his “He’s not a bad person, you know?” She places one of her dainty hands over his arm, perhaps trying to appeal to his emotions, but all Aemond can think is how close she is, how his breathing fans over her delicate face. She is so beautiful he almost forgives her for defending their brother. Such a precious gem.

“You don’t understand, Aeressa. You never do.” he shakes his head. “You only ever see the good in people.”

She frowns. “And you only ever see the bad.”

He wants to say more, scold her for her trustful nature, warn her of Aegon’s malice, but no words leave his mouth when the hand that wasn’t holding his arm reaches to cup his cheek. As if by instinct, he covers her hand with his. She is so close. So close. He can smell the oils she bathes in, and see the world of wonders living in the space between her parted lips. She is so close. He could close the distance, taste her if so he pleased.

Aemond forces himself awake from the fantasies, reminding himself of his place as her older brother.

“He whispered in your ears during supper. What did he say?”

His inquiry breaks the moment and Aeressa pulls away, repelled by the shock of reality. “I don’t know, he said so many things…” she says, almost musing, and begins to walk down the corridor again.

“Aeressa.” Aemond pulls her by the arm. “I’m not playing with you. What did Aegon say?”

She opens a grin, and at that moment he can’t read her in the least. His grip on her arm tightens. “What did Aegon say?” he repeats, more forcefully this time.

“He wants me to come to his chambers at night. He says we’ll play this fun game. Why is it so important?”

It is universally known how taken with his sister Aemond is. She’d been his little pet from a very young age, always following her older brother like a shadow, her twin by her side. When Daeron was sent away to fight, her attention had been solely Aemond’s, and he’d grown to cherish her company. Now, however, hearing those words coming from her mouth with a smile… He’d never been this compelled to hit her. Stupid girl. His grip on her arm tightens again, this time enough to earn a whimper from Aeressa.

“You’re hurting me, Aemond! What is going on?” she squeals, trying to free herself. She is so confused.

Of course, she is. She doesn’t understand the ways of men, she’s just a girl. She has no idea what kind of game Aegon plays - or plans on playing with her. Aemond lets go of her at last.

“You will not visit him tonight, do you hear me?”

“Why not? What if the game is fun?”

He grits his teeth, looking back at his sister’s bewildered expression. How can he explain the world to her? How can he keep her safe? He takes one hand to his hair, mind making work of his questions like a big machine with confusing and missing pieces. Aegon will not stop, even if Aemond himself keeps watch on her door. He’ll find a way, a secret passage, a time of the day when no one will be able to come aid. If there’s one thing he knows about his brother is how stubborn he can get when denied things he wants. And if there is another thing he knows about his brother is how great his appetite is, especially for maidens.

Aemond turns back to his sister, who watches him wearing the same confusion.

“So you want to play a game?”

“Embroidery gets very boring sometimes…” Aeressa tries to explain herself, gazing low on the ground, cradling the arm he squeezed.

Gods, she’s afraid of him… What now?

He sighs.

“Let us go to your chambers, I will play with you.”

She looks back up, childish delight mixed in with a slight distrust. “Will you?”

“Yes.”

She takes his hand and begins leading the way. The girl gets through the door and motions for him to follow, but he tells her to wait for a minute so he can tip the guard with enough gold to buy silence and one night in his sister’s bed.

It is the first time he’s entered Aeressa’s chambers in what seems like forever. It is covered in fresh flowers, the sweet scent filling the space between the four walls. The bed is grand as his own but wrapped in pink quilts and blankets. She sits on the edge of the mattress, swinging her legs a little.

“What game is it, brother?”

Aemond steps closer until he’s standing in front of her, looking down at her smiling face. If there is a time to stop, it is now. But if he stops… He knows Aegon won’t. Taking a deep breath, he cups her cheek much as she did to him in the hallway, face as stone. He loves her, he does, and because he loves her, there is no going back. This is his duty as a devoted brother. She can’t stay this naive forever.

“Have you ever played house?”

“Yes, of course! It was my favorite game with Daeron.” she says, innocent as ever.

“Do you want to play house with me?”

Aeressa laughs, that feminine, childish sound. “I think I’m a bit too old now… I haven’t played in ages.”

“Make an exception for today. I promise it’ll be fun.”

She looks away for a second but soon looks back at him with a smile. “If you promise.”

The prince takes another deep breath, trying to set it straight in his brain how this will go.

“This is the game: I am your husband, you are my wife, and this is our wedding night. Do you know what you are supposed to do?”

She hesitates for an instant. “Serve you…?”

“Yes. And how will you do that?”

“With a kiss?”

He feels himself smile at that, caressing the cheek he cups. “Very well. Have you ever been kissed before, Aeressa?”

“Only by Daeron when we played house last.”

Aemond has to hold back a flush of jealousy. All this time worrying about Aegon, it seems Daeron had gotten a headstart before leaving for the military. His caresses stop and he holds her face with both hands. He thinks of saying something, but now that he has Aeressa looking up at him with big lavender eyes, there are no words left. All he wants is to claim her rosy lips, and that’s what he does.

It is obvious she has little to no idea of what she's doing, which brings satisfaction to him. He tries to start chaste but soon finds himself tugging at her bottom lip, trying to get Aeressa to open her mouth for him to enter. When she finally gets the tip, his tongue slides in, and her hand flies to the arm that cradles her face, alarmed by the new sensation. It only amuses him more.

Startled by the intrusion, she opens her eyes wide and pulls back.

“Your tongue, it’s-”

He can’t help but chuckle. “Yes. That is what a real kiss is like. Do you not like it?"

A slight blood rush colors her cheeks. “It feels odd, but… It isn’t unpleasant.”

His thumb caresses her bottom lip, a starved look on his face. “Good. Try to match my pace, hm?”

Aeressa tries to pull back when he leans in, but she’s no match to the iron grip of the hands on her face. The prince kisses her again, this time stripping away all of the niceties he paid her at first, going straight for what he wants. His tongue laps at the inside of her mouth like fire licking at tapestries, spreading some weird warmth through her body. It might be the lack of oxygen, but she feels lightheaded, suddenly clinging to her brother like he, the arsonist, might save her from being burned alive.

She pulls away, struggling to breathe. The room is full of smoke. With her eyes now open, she can see the way Aemond gazes at her, and a tremble rushes through her body. His one eye is dark, veiled by a haze of something she doesn’t quite get. Desire? His hands pull her back for another kiss, searing, hot, all-consuming, and this time they don’t stay put on her face. Aeressa notices with confusion he is laying her down on the bed. Aemond can hardly hold back now, pulling her skirts up to grab at her legs.

“Aemond!” she yelps, sitting up. “You can’t lift a lady’s skirt!”

Yes, maybe he got a bit carried away… This is his sister, his beautiful, sweet, innocent sister. She must be so shaken by his actions. He stops and looks back at the youngest princess and her red cheeks. “Dear wife, it’s all part of the game.” he says, trying to sound confident and not as eager, his hands running up and down her thighs. “As your husband, I’m allowed to see you bare, understand?”

He descends from the bed to kneel on the ground, takes off her shoes and kisses her feet, then starts a trail of caresses that, when close to her thighs, are open-mouthed and fervent. His fingers grip her skin hard enough to leave marks - she doesn’t know it, but this is Aemond struggling to keep his composure. The room is filled with the smell of flowers and Aeressa’s labored breath. Without realizing it, her hands fly to his hair, and she’s pulling him back up for another kiss.

“Greedy, aren't you?” Aemond chuckles. He can’t help but give her what she wants, though, relishing in her grabby hands trying to pull him closer, impossibly closer. He kisses her ardently, kisses her, and kisses her, his own hands trying to pull her to him. How many nights did he spend awake, fisting his cock, fantasizing about her touch, her heaving breath, her tongue on his, on him… And now she is pulling at his hair, kissing him back as if her very life depends on it.

He pulls back, earning a frustrated sigh from Aeressa as she searches for his mouth again, but he holds her chin and makes her throw back her head. He begins another trail, this time from her lips to her cheek to her ear, where he nibbles at the lobe. “I’m going to make you mine tonight. Mine, no one else’s.” he growls, and, close as they are, he can feel the chill running through her back. “Am I clear?”

“Yes.” she breathes.

“Yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

He only wanted to hear her say his name, but the title might be even better. Grinning, he begins following south, down to her neck. “Little princess Aeressa seems to be quite sensitive...”, he thinks, drinking in the heavy breaths she takes when he kisses her neck. Against his better judgment, Aemond sucks in a hickey or two and leaves a bite that makes him want to leave a hundred, hearing the whimper she lets out at the first. He is hypnotized by how her chest rises with each breath, barely contained by the bodice of her dress.

With greedy hands, he tugs at the strings that hold her gown together. Impatient to have his attention solely on her again, Aeressa helps, and soon the fabric is loose around her. “Are you… Are you sure this is right?” asks her, holding the front of her bodice to not let her breasts spill. She wanted him back on her, but now that it is time to be seen naked, she is too timid to let go of the gown.

“Yes, this is right. I have never been so sure.” is what he thinks, wanting nothing more than to free her of this godforsaken dress and feel her skin on his. As to not startle her, though, he forces himself to hide the feverishness and smile calmly. “Do you feel wrong, my sweet?”

“...No.”

“Then how could it be anything but right?”

Hesitantly, she lets go of the bodice, letting it fall on her lap, her round breasts now on display for only him to gaze at. Aemond thinks they’re just the perfect size, custom-made to fit inside the palm of his calloused hands. “Good girl.” he praises and kisses her again. Aeressa arches her back in his embrace, entranced by his words, drinking them in. “Good girl.” he repeats. His hands travel along her torso, feeling her up, squeezing, pinching, and scratching. He lays her down again and tentatively pushes up the fabric of her dress, half expecting his sister to stop him again, but this time all she does is lace her arms through his neck to keep him closer, pressing her chest to his.

With her beneath him, whimpering so softly, Aemond feels like he might be in one of the Seven Heavens, or perhaps all seven at once. His hand snakes down between her thighs, and he can’t stop a groan from escaping feeling how slick she is. He wants nothing but to fuck her hard, have her scream his name so loud Aegon won’t be able to miss it… But she is his sister, not some common whore, and he owes her love and respect. This is all for her, after all. His finger circles the entrance of her cunt, the heel of his palm pressing down on her clit

The feeling bubbling down at the pit of Aeressa’s stomach is so foreign, strong enough to make her tremble inside her prince’s embrace. Her mouth is on his like he is the air she breathes, only pulling away at the feeling of intrusion when he inserts a finger inside her.

“Are you enjoying this?” he asks, hovering above her, his long white hair falling over her face. His finger pumps in and out of her with ease. As if to punctuate his question, he rubs the heel of his hand on her pearl, earning a sharp mewl from the girl.

She grabs at his shoulders, trying to still herself, eyes shut tight as if not being able to see her brother’s expression will somehow stop him from staring this intently at her. At this point, the princess is a blushing mess, her chest and neck covered in hickeys and bites, hair falling disheveled around her like a fallen angel’s halo.

“Well?” he presses on, now making hither motions that squeeze more sounds out of her. “I’ll stop if you can’t answer.”

Aeressa is often told she is too kind for her own good, always ready to see the good over the bad. At this moment, however, she is sure her brother must be some kind of demon, the only possible explanation for how he toys with her body and mind, so obviously enjoying the shame in her features. “...Yes”

He grins, wicked, and leans in to kiss her. Aemond swallows the cry she lets out when he surprises her with a second finger. “Good girl. Thank you for your honesty.” says the man, in a tone that asks “wasn't so hard, was it?”. Her body is on fire and he’s watching like it is something amazing. Because it is; because he’s completely entranced.

Her heavy breathing and moans fill the room, mixed with one or two sloppy sounds coming from her wet cunt. The symphony is shameful and burns in her ears. Aemond wishes he had the kind of self-control to let her come undone on his fingers, maybe on his mouth later on, but, suckling on her right breast as he masturbates her, he fears this might be too much for him to take. He is so hard it hurts, his trousers now the cruelest prison.

His sister whimpers loudly, unsatisfied, and frustrated when he pulls his fingers out of her. In the candlelight, his hand glistens with her wet. “What? Why did you stop?” Aeressa whines, lying under him with uneven breathing. The one-eyed prince licks one long stripe on his hand, too taken with the flavor to dignify her question with an answer. She tastes sinful, devilish, the forbidden fruit untouched.

“Open wide.”

“What?” she asks. He can’t possibly mean…

“Do as I say.”

Obedient as she’d always been, she parts her lips and allows her brother to stuff his fingers on her mouth. She can feel herself on his digits, the humiliation bringing the heat in the pit of her stomach to bubble like a witch’s brew.

“Good girl. Such a good girl…” Aemond smirks and kisses her once more, the taste dancing on both their tongues. Aeressa figures he would go back to his ministrations and spreads her legs just a bit wider, waiting for his hand to dip in between them again, but it never does. He pulls back and leaves the bed, standing in front of her confused form now. Why did he stop? She didn’t want him to stop.

Her eyes follow his every move as he begins undressing, making quick work of his clothes. He has a lean, athletic body with marked V bones on his hips, which lead the girl’s gaze to the cock that is proudly erect in front of her. She hadn’t seen one since she was a kid and the servants bathed her with Daeron. His certainly didn’t look like that.

“You’re staring, wife.” chuckles Aemond, subtly reminding her of the game they played. The hand that played with her moved to stroke his manhood, jerking it a few times if only to put on a good show for her.

“I…” Aeressa starts but is unable to finish.

He is amused by her innocent yet curious demeanor. Flawless… Legs spread for him, dress pooled at her waist, breasts out just for him to ogle at. She half sits up, supported by her elbows on the bed, waiting with the most perfect expression for him to do with her as he pleases.

“Now, this might hurt a bit, but I need you to be brave. I promise it'll feel good once the pain dulls.” says Aemond, climbing on top of her again. She lets him, even if in her face she wears some shade of apprehension at the mention of pain.

Kissing her mouth as a distraction tactic, he begins aligning himself with her center and pushes in slowly. It is too late now. Too late. Tears sting on the corners of Aeressa's eyes, which she closes tightly shut, her face contorts itself into a pained grimace, and he can hear a whimper from her, but it's well past the point of stopping. He is inside her, trying to force himself further, squeezed by her insides. She is tight and hot and it might just be too much. He presses his forehead against hers, the tips of their noses touching, their breaths mixing as the two try to keep their composure.

Beneath him, Aemond can tell his sister is crying. Is he being too rough? He could swear… He is trying so hard to be good for her, to go slow.

“Brother?” she asks, grabbing at his arm like he might keep her afloat.

“What is it, my love?”

“When will it start to feel good?”

The prince can't help but smile at her words. She is trying to be brave for him, just like he's trying to be good for her. So adorable it hurts. With tenderness, he kisses her forehead, then the tip of her nose, then her cheeks, and, finally, her mouth. “Soon, my sweet. Very soon.” She looks up at him through wet eyelashes like she so badly wants to believe his words. “You are doing so well, baby. You're such a good girl for me.”

He moves inside her, slow like he believes that maybe if he goes slow enough, she might not feel the pain of the stretch or the breaking of her hymen. A cry from the girl proves his hopes wrong, and he attempts at remedying it by cooing sweetly at her.

“No, don't cry… You're a big girl, aren't you? You've been doing so good!” says the man, cupping her cheek and caressing her face.

“It hurts, brother!”

“I know, I know…” He kisses her teary eyes, salt on his lips. “But you can take it. I know you can. Look—” he nods towards where they are joined, her pussy having swallowed all of him. “You did it. You're such a good girl, such a sweet baby… Such a perfect cocksleeve.”

She looks up at him with violet orbs big as the moon. She didn't think she could do it, but she did it! Isn't it amazing? “And you're proud of me, sir?”

He smiles. “So proud.”

Aeressa laces one arm through his neck and pulls him in for a kiss. She kisses him, sweetly, so adoringly, and only pulls back to wince when he starts moving again.

He stops immediately and asks, worried as a dutiful brother “Do you need more time to adjust? Is this okay, sister?”

She bites her lower lip so strongly she might draw blood, but nods. “Yes… Yes, it's alright. Please, move.”

So he does. Slow, excruciatingly slow. It takes all of his self-control to keep himself from ramming into her. Everything about how she feels around him is perfect, and he just wants to make the most of the sensation. But he loves her, he has to remember that - that she is to be loved, not fucked. Slowly, very slowly, he goes in and out of her, one eye studying her every squirm, examining the signs her body gives. Slowly, her whimpers give way to soft moans, and, with patience and shows of affection, Aemond is capable of extracting from the young princess encouragement to move faster. So he does.

Aeressa is squirming under him, large breasts bouncing softly with the movement. She pinches her nipples, runs her nails through her white skin, and does as he had done before, chasing after the heat the actions spark in her belly. It feels so different, to be full, but the more the pain subdues, the more she enjoys it, and begins to dread the moment her brother bottoms out of her, leaving her empty. Thankfully, it's only for a short moment before he fills her again. "Faster, please!" asks her, guided by an instinct that says a quicker pace would be more pleasant.

Aemond is enthralled by the vision before him, one he only dared dream of. She is angelical, perfect, pierced by him, belonging only to one man now and forever. He smirks and leans forward to suck in a hickey on the pale pulse point of her neck, hips snapping against hers. Every bruise he leaves on her body is a work of art and a show of passion, a sign of ownership he will not let Aegon question. King-to-be or not, he lost this match, and with this victory under his belt, the younger prince finds that he does not mind losing the war all that much. He kisses his sister’s mouth with a pure mix of love and lust. “It feels so good! I might go insane!” the girl whimpers against his lips, prompting his hips to go harder.

“You’re doing amazing, Aeressa.” he smiles at her, sole eye taking in the beauty of her reactions, the perfect ‘O’ of her lips, the hitch of her breath. Aemond finds that she likes it fast, but it is when he goes hard that she gasps and cries out his name. “Such a perfect little bitch.” He cups her cheek with one hand, the other next to her head, holding his weight on top of her. He keeps praising her, locking onto her amethyst eyes, knowing it to be the way to her heart. “Such a good girl for me. The best hole in the Realm.”

She can feel it, how every word has her clenching around him, how every thrust gets the band in her belly to stretch further, closer to snapping. The princess is completely lost in the feeling, cockdrunk. Her brother searches for her, but there are no thoughts behind her pupils, only a thirst for release. Aeressa is vocal in bed, loud, and forgotten of consequences. She cries multiple “sir!”s and “brother!”s, gripping hard at her partner’s forearms. He can only chuckle at how gone she is, and give her his thumb to suck on.

Without waiting for more encouragement, Aemond sets a pace that is passionate and quick, almost wild, and has his sister screaming to the Seven Winds. He can’t deny he’s getting close. Gods, he’s getting close. Decided to extract one orgasm from the princess before giving in to his own, he retracts the hand that cupped her face to have it play with her clit, the spit-covered thumb slick as it circles her button. It earns a loud moan from the girl under him.

“Good girl, such a good girl!” he groans, hips snapping.

Her walls clench around his cock. He can’t help but imagine her womb thirsty, ready to receive all of him.

“Aemond, I-” the princess gasps.

“It’s alright, let it go. Let it go for me.” His thumb speeds up on her clit. She flutters, legs shaking, chest heaving, and the coil deep in her stomach snaps in fevering euphoria. Aeressa reaches up to press her brother’s lips to hers, the kiss marked by gasps and delirious moaning.

The prince bottoms in and out her with passion, now chasing only his high, which approaches at rapid speed. With a grunt, he cums inside his little sister, whole body clenching. He fucks her shallowly through his orgasm, pushing his seed deeper.

Both out of breath and absolutely spent, the siblings eye each other. Aemond’s senses return, making him wonder “what the actual fuck.” as he pushes out of her and lays down by her side. Before he can linger on the guilt of ruining the princess, she curls up on his chest, sweat sticking their bodies together. He wraps an arm around her and tucks his chin on the top of her head.

“Was that good, husband?”

He can’t lie to her, or to himself. “That was fucking amazing.”

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