#this fic has so much fluff

[sawrinwrites]

Expecting - An Ember Story

I promised you all a new Ember adventure to celebrate the 1yr anniversary of the Bees and it just so happens to coincide with today's Bumbleby Week prompt!

Read on for a story of our favourite Bees as they prepare for the arrival of their first child, told from the perspective of the giant floof and resident Best Girl, Ember.

[landosjpg]

Hey, I love your writing so much and have had an idea for a one shot for a while. I feel like it would be cute if reader kissed both moles on Lando’s face as a sign of good luck (before a race) or just in general. That’s as specific as I can get because I’m not that ✨creative✨ but if choose to write about it I will EAT. IT. UP. 🧡

it had started one random saturday evening when after a couple of bad race weekends, lando wasn’t exactly feeling in high spirits.

he was always last to get in the car, chatting around with his engineers. but that day, he wasn’t in the mood for all that, so he just stood by your side, arm around your waist as he went over his notes about the track.

his body tensed when he heard will, his engineer, nervously coughing. that was his cue to get ready.

lando sighed, not looking forward the qualifying session ahead of him. the track didn’t exactly suit the mclaren, so he wasn’t expecting much from that weekend again.

you softly smiled at him as he put his earplugs on, the usual grin that adorned his lips was gone; he wasn’t someone who would hide his emotions, but seeing him so apathetic made you worry. usually you would just mouth a “good luck” and flash him your brightest smile before he put his helmet on, but not this time.

you softly tapped his shoulder, making him turn to look at you. your hands cradled his face before you got in your tip toes, his gaze fixed on yours.

“good luck, baby,” you mumbled, closing the distance between the two of you to place a gentle kiss to the beauty marks on each side of your face. god, how you loved them. “you’re gonna do great, i have a feeling.”

that was the first time you saw his smile for the first time since that thursday; the gesture warming your heart. he leaned down to peck your mouth, a whispered “i love you” against your lips.

call it a coincidence, maybe it was pure luck or perhaps he had found enough motivation in your little gesture to put the car in the front row. but after that day, as superstitious as he was, lando always asked for a kiss on each side of his face right before sliding his balaclava on.

it was silly, but it became your little ritual before every session. and when his results weren’t as good, he would justify it as you “not kissing the exact spot”, which made you giggle each and every time.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Birthday Boys

It’s Fred and George’s birthday, and you wanted to give them something very special. It’s hard to give them something like that, but you are married to them for a reason. As if they would ever settle for someone boring, now would they?

Warnings: 18+, Double Penetration (A and V), teasing, breeding, overstimulation, dirty talk, birthday suits ((hehe)) lipstick kink(?) and of course Fred Lives. Because I said so ((George still missing an ear tho! Bleh-!))

“Well what’s this?” George would blink, as a paper airplane would land itself on his desk. Fred would raise a brow, as he set down the ink he had grabbed for his younger twin. It’s April First. The ever busiest day of the year, and their birthday as well. That meant they were swamped with work, and just trying to finish the day. The shop may be closed, now, but damn they were still drowning.

“Don’t just stare at it, open it up-!” Fred would bonk the younger twin, with his wand, making him fix at his hair. He would give a grumble, as he unfolded the neat little parchment. By the hand writing alone, he knew it was from you. What was written made him a bit flushed in the cheeks. Always was the more emotional of the two, so Fred was quick to look over his shoulder. Reading along.

To my special Birthday Boys. You two have been working so hard all day. Such a wonderful occasion deserves a present, doesn’t it? I better expect you to leave paper work for later, and hurry up to our bedroom. It gets rather chilly being all alone. I don’t want your present to get cold either. Not when I worked so hard to wrap it all up so nicely in purples and oranges. If you don’t want it, I’ll be more than happy to make use of it all myself. Sincerely yours~!

Never had they side alone aparated so fast in their life. Gave you quite the startle, to suddenly see them. You should have figured they wouldn’t waste time, but boy they move fast. Even after all these years together, it catches you by surprise. Though, this time they were the ones with wide eyes this time around.

There you were, in the middle of the bed, dressed to the nines. A array of orange, and purple, fabric against your skin. Stockings of lace. Done up so pretty to mimic that of a fire work, with little dots all around. The fingerless arm length gloves had to be, as to help bring focus to how bare the rest of you were. Nothing else to your skin, but your own birthday suit. Besides so heavy makeup, because you knew they loved it when it got all ruined. What really sold it was the bows all over you. Around your thighs, wrists, neck, just for the comical effect of a birthday present. Hey, it’s April Fools. Gotta get silly.

“H-“ Before you could get a single syllable out, they were on you. Like starving dogs. Clothes were flying, and your body was quick to be sandwiched between the two men. Your neck attacked in kisses, and their ever rough hands trailing your skin. Tracing all the invisible lines they had tracked on you.

“Guess you like the surprise-?” You joked, as you were leaning yourself against Fred. While George was enjoying your front. Sucking plenty of hickies on your skin, while Fred was enjoying playing with your nipples. Had you squeak, and flush, as he was enjoying the happily given toy.

“Taking that as a yes-“ You sighed, as you were just a meal for the wolves. Wolves that always had your flavor of flesh in mind. It just felt so good to be so desired. To be wanted so badly, it could hurt. Especially after such an exhausting day, they needed to get that pent up steam out.

“Been thinking about you all day long-“ George would sigh, as he stole your lips into his own. Happily allowing your lipstick to stain his own, while your hips rubbed onto the building hard on in Fred’s lap. Just a tangle of wild limbs, and you couldn’t have loved anything more.

“Come on, save some for me. Give em here-“ And you would be stolen by Fred next. Making sure he got his lips stained all the same. George didn’t complain, as he would let the lipstick residue trail over your exposured chest. Designing you, as Fred let his tongue do any talking he had left.

You enjoyed the sensual, and slow, pace. Made you fall into the mood far easier. But, you knew why they were being so gentle. Gentle starts always ended with you drooling and utterly delirious. They were going to destroy you, to your core, and that had you so hopeful.

“Just look at you.” They breathed, in unison, as you were just a doll in their hands. Your body leaning into Fred’s, with his legs spread to make sure you were comfortable. Meanwhile George was above you, on his knees, and taking in the sight. Just starving for you, while Fred was busy with the bedside table. Making sure to grab some lube, as you realized what you signed up for.

“Don’t say I never treat you.” That had them laugh, at your comment. Sweet little feathery kisses were given to your face, and neck, while the line was passed to each other. Slicking themselves up, before using the residue to make sure you were nice and comfortable. A thank you, for such a wonderful present.

“Wrapped up in such a pretty bow.” Fred sighed, as he stuck two fingers inside of you. That had you bite your lip, before the mimicking motion from George made it slip out. Fred was in your ass, and George was in your core. Able to copy each other’s movements in perfect unison. Some call it disturbing, you call it heaven.

“Damn, wet as hell. Don’t even need lube. We’re so excited to get to be our gift, weren’t you? Isn’t that sweet Fred-?” “Oh the ever sweetest George. We love it when you get excited. Gets us excited.” They echoed each other, while making sure to lather as much as they could. Knowing you would need it, and still remembering to put your needs first. Just gentle motions, as they made sure to cover as much as two fingers could. Teasing away at your sensitive spots, just to make you squirm.

“I can’t wait any more.” “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” And like that, the fingers were removed. You whined at it, which made them smirk. Now, you were feeling them pressed against you. They planned to go in, at the exact same time. It made your heart race. To imagine, being stuffed so quickly.

“How about we-“ But they broke through the tight barrier, and your mind was mush. Not so much from pain, just the over whelming sensation of being so full. To feel your insides grow so tight, as your muscles were being pulled yet pushed at the same time. Was a fluttery experience. Somehow so light, yet couldn’t be heavier.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ You heard Fred whisper into your ear, while your blurry eyes could make out that George was hardly able to keep his own open. Biting into his stained lip, as to not whimper too early. To last, but damn. You knew he was fighting for his life.

Once they were both fully inside, the three of you just stayed that way. A mixture of wanting to make sure you were adjusted, and them not wanting to end the game so soon. How embarrassing that would be. Least that meant you were being pampered. With heavy breathing, and wet kisses on your skin. A means to help you relax, and it worked.

“Lucky me, I get to be the first one to pump you full. Isn’t that nice of Fred? To let me be the one to pump your little womb full?” That had your face burn. Yeah, you three were trying, but none of you exactly went into to much details on how such a thing would plan out. Given Magic was involved, with everything, isn’t a dumb guess to think these two will somehow knock you up at the same time. Just made you all the more flushed, as Fred would rub over your stomach.

“Don’t worry. When he’s done with you, we will switch. I can’t just waste it all in your ass. I love that cute thing, but I love you being full of out kids more.” Fred moaned, as he finally moved his hips. Just in time with George’s. The feeling of two at once, in different holes. Truly a fuzzy experience.

Your hands found George’s shoulders, while Fred grabbed your legs. Keeping you spread as wide as they could, as they rocked their hips into you. Such perfect calculations to make sure your mind stayed in that blissful fuzz. Was leaving you with your nails into Georges skin.

“Come on, love. You gotta moan louder for me. I’m missing an ear over here. Give me some noise-!” George cackled, as Fred took that as a que to pick up the pace. Your head was rolling itself back, and leaned on Fred’s shoulder. Giving George exactly what he wanted, after all. Louder moans, whimpers, gasps, and plenty of smacking flesh to fill in between.

“So cock drunk, and the night hardly started.” Fred teases, as he bit into your shoulder. Needing to steady himself, but the feeling was too much. George would have agreed, if it were vocal. They were getting sloppy with their movements, and you wouldn’t last long either. Especially since George was now planting sloppy kisses against your lips. Leaving you two a jumble mess of spit and moans.

Hearing their desperate breaths, and whimpers of trying to hold on, it was what brought you over the edge. By proxy, your tightening grip in your body had them gasp. Their hips stuttering, as they came inside of you. Throbbing, and having a shake in their system.

Riding it out was such a warm feeling. Felt like everything was on fire, in all the best ways. Already so exhausted, and ready to just sleep, but….They weren’t making any April fools joke with you. Just as your eyes closed, they moved.

You have a squeak, before a breathy moan, as they pulled out. Left such a mess between all your legs, before you were flipped around. Your hands now on Fred’s chest, and ass presented to George. Out right lining up again.

“Perk-A-Boo~!” Fred teases, as he poked your nose. Just as you wiggled it, they thrusted right back into you. The stimulation of being restuffed was mind melting. Right after your high, and with so much already running down your legs. The sounds of all made were so loud, and wet. Was utterly thrilling.

Fred was happy to drink in your moans, hogging as many kisses as he could. Meanwhile George was happily feeling over your hips. Letting those hard working hands trace the lipstick marks shared between them both.

“Don’t do poor Georgie like that, come on. You gotta moan a little louder. His hearing isn’t so good.” Fred would tease, as he forced your chin up. Trying to amplify your desperate sounds. It was all too much. You were going to reach your peak again, with tears running down your face. Smearing away the remains of your makeup.

“Just hang on a little more. I want to make sure I get nice and deep in there.” Fred comforted, as George planted kisses down your back. Making sure your skin was covered in whatever remained of their lips.

Everything was so blurry, but you knew this. You came again, and your insides were coated once more. The ringing in your ears were dancing with the shakey moans of your lovers. So happy, and satisfied, with wrecking you so much.

When you came back to reality, you realized the lingerie you wore was gone. Seems they made sure to give you a sponge bath, before they were knocked out. You between them, as they snuggled you.

Fred behind you, as he held your stomach. Ever a man that loved feeling your ass against him. Meanwhile George was infront of you, tangling your legs together, as he snuck his arms just above Fred’s. His face under your chin, so he could listen to your heart beat.

“Happy birthday, you two.” You whispered, as you made sure they both were kissed on their heads. Freckled smiles crossed their lips, as they snuggled closer. Fred, enjoying his nose in your neck, while George gave you a squeeze. Maybe you should gift wrap yourself more often.

[scrawnyghstts]

do any of you ever lay awake at night thinking about how Kremy gifted Gideon a comb even though, obviously, lizardfolk don't have any hair.

because that means that Kremy went out of his way to get Gid this gift. A comb isn't just something an alligator would have or just collect somewhere to have it for later, Kremy likely never needed or thought of having anything of the sort.

But Kremy noticed how roughed up Gideon was, how he didn't have anything on him to take care of himself and Kremy came up with the idea and then spent time and possibly money (or he just swiped it but still) to find a nice comb just for Gideon and then gave it to him.

Nikkie described it so beautifully that it was the first time someone saw Gideom as his own man and that also makes my heart ache so much. But I just can't stop thinking about how freaking Kremy Lecroux, went out of his way, to get a thing he likely never even thought of getting, just to give it to his partner (in crime). Like yeah sure we can talk about how Kremy wouldn't want to travel with someone unkept but I don't think it's that. He'd get Gideom a bath and a haircut or something at an inn and done, issue solved. But no, Kremy specifically wanted to get a thing for Gideon, he wanted him to have something that's just for him, something to help him get his sense of self back, his looks and help him find his confidence.

It was thoughtful gift from Kremy who probably is the last person to do thoughtful gifts to just some people. But he made that gesture for Gideon.

like do you ever just lay there and think about all that and how they both must have felt almost an instant bond forming between them, doesn't matter if it's platonic or romantic, like do you just-- yeah.

[elsecrytt]

so i had a thought.

what if 236 is actually jujutsu tech propaganda?

mei mei is broadcasting this entire thing, right? what better way to protect gojo from bounty hunters etc., than convince the entire world that he's already dead?

the final battle happened offscreen, with significantly less fanfare. gojo rescued megumi, defeated sukuna. the day was saved.

at a cost.

gojo gave up everything - at least, everything he valued. the six eyes, his abilities as a sorcerer. he assumed that would make him a normal man, and he was right -

what he didn't realize was that it would also make him blind.

so now... you live in a nice apartment complex. a guy moves in next to you.

you can't help but notice he happens to be blind - at least, he's wearing a blindfold, uses a cane, but he's often swearing and stumbling through his porch, over his entryway. he is very, very blind.

you, wondering what the fuck up is with your obviously blind neighbor who seems to have no sense of self-preservation.

he walks into objects all the time, especially hitting his head on things, since he's so tall. forgets his cane when going out. the dude just left his door open the other day, like, WIDE OPEN, who DOES that?

helping gojo learn, not only how to be human, but how to be disabled. how to not be disgusted with being disabled.

gojo learning that being blind isn't the end of his life, nor the end of his happiness - life is still worth living, even without one of his senses.

helping gojo mourn his lost sense while still finding things to enjoy. gojo who learns to cook by taste, by feeling heat or texture, with your help. gojo learning to organize things so he always knows where they are from memory.

bringing gojo audiobook versions of your favorite stories even if he teases you for your taste. he listens to them when he has nothing to do, which is most of the time, now.

he goes out on walks all the time because he doesn't have a job, you learn. while it's nice to not have to work, you can tell he comes from money, his life comes with a gaping hole inside it, one that isn't entirely explained by the blindness.

gojo who's overstimulated all the time because he no longer has infinity as a barrier, but somehow also as touch-starved as ever, alone in a foreign country away from all his students and colleagues.

gojo, who has only ever done Big Things with his life, who has only ever been an Important Person doing world changing things, now, just an ordinary guy.

he barely cares what happens to himself now. it's not that he wants to die, or anything. it's just that he doesn't have a reason to live.

and that wouldn't change overnight. not with cooking lessons or audiobooks or friendly greetings whenever you see him by the door. not with smiles or waves (he can't see them) or a braille rubik's cube you find online (how did he solve it in under a minute??) or karaoke (he has an AMAZING singing voice, and he knows so many songs better than you do?).

it wouldn't change overnight, because nothing worthwhile forms in a day, or two, or even a week or a month.

but gojo's life doesn't have to be amazing a day after he's gone blind. or a week. or a month. it's okay if it's difficult, he learns, it's okay if he hates it, hates himself, hates every choice that brought him here, even if he would never take it back.

it's okay. it gets better. with you there? it's getting better.

[madbard]

I was just thinking about post-canon Gravity Falls and imagining what would happen if someone mixed up Stan and Ford’s names. (They’re twins and traveling around a lot, it’s bound to happen eventually.)

I think Stan would take it in stride. It’s not his favorite feeling in the world but he spent 30 years going by ‘Stanford’ so he’s used to it by now.

But imagine Ford being called ‘Stanley’ and suddenly remembering the last time he was ‘mistaken’ for his brother. The last time anyone would have associated him with that name - standing in the pyramid, gun in hand, pointed at his brother’s head.

Whoever mixed up their names feels a chill go down their spine as Ford’s features harden, eyes darkening with that memory. His fingers twitch.

Then, just like a storm disintegrating into the sea, the expression is gone, and the two brothers are walking away. They’re talking cheerfully, and from an outsider’s perspective it would seem like nothing’s changed.

But they’re walking a bit closer together than before.

[yuwuta]

yuuta exhibits such previously abandoned, recently adopted dog behavior. incredibly anxious all the time, even though nobody’s out to get him or leave him behind. waits for you to return home or from school or from work excitedly, just to see you when you walk through the door. follows you around senselessly, hovering in your space just for the sake of companionship. initiates affection in prodding ways—starts off next to you, then a hand on your thigh, then deems it safe to lay all the way down, then slowly pushes his head into your lap. gets up whenever you need to get up, and resumes his position as soon as you’re ready. brings you gifts as a sign that he’s thinking of you, and maybe because he likes the affection it brings out in you, maybe because he likes the gentle affirming touches of a hand in his hair or a pinch to his cheek. rests his head on your stomach or his chin on your shoulder when he’s sleepy, stays there, immobile, and will not move unless absolutely necessary. sometimes he gets surprised when he hears you calling for him, there’s a moment of disbelief as he thinks “me? really? you need me?” but it’s very quickly overshadowed by this compulsive need to show up, to please, to do anything for you, which is why he always answers when you call. he doesn’t realize that he has puppygod eyes, especially when he’s excited or confused, but he does and it’s incredible endearing. very reluctant to share your space or attention after a while, considers that to be sacred and he won’t risk being let go or lost again, so as a safety precaution, he keeps himself right by you, waits for you always. 

[crossthread]

No jokes here. The Navy’s best pilot and the Navy’s best admiral. Between them, eight air-to-air combat kills and five stars. These were men who commanded respect with or without your approval. This was the picture of ruthless competence.

Debriefing (& Other Stories) • part 2 of Easier Done Than Said by @compacflt

[the-broken-pen]

I adore your writing style! If you want could you do something about a hero with wings?

The villain rounded the corner into the alley just in time to watch the hero nudge the boot of the body in front of them with their foot, face considering.

“For a hero, you kill an awful lot of people,” the villain pointed out, and the hero turned to stare at them, blood splattered across their pure white wings.

“What, that?” The hero kicked the boot of the body strewn across the concrete below them. “This is community service.”

The villain tipped their head at the body. “Does he know that?”

“I think he’s figuring it out,” the hero grinned, and the villain could do nothing more than stare at them, slightly dumb, for a second.

“How the fuck are they still calling you archangel when you keep murdering people in broad daylight.”

The hero shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t even know why they started calling me that in the first place, to be honest.”

The villain made a mocking face at them, and the hero made one back. “Oh, with the pure white wings and dazzling face, I wonder.”

The hero clasped a still bloody hand to their chest. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I think you belong in a jar of formaldehyde.”

The hero dropped their hand, sighing. “Funny, because everyone else keeps writing fanfiction in my honor. And trust me, they have very strong opinions on my appearance.”

The hero’s grin couldn’t be described as anything other than catlike, pleased and sharp. Their wings cocked behind them.

“I’m sorry, you read fanfiction about yourself?”

“Don’t be jealous, there’s plenty about you, too.”

The villain spluttered. “I’m not jealous–”

“Sounds like it.”

“Oh my god.”

“Don’t bring that douche canoe into this,” the hero said, looking up. “His ego is the size of the titanic and I am doing my very best to sink that fucker.”

The villain gaped at them. “That is not very ‘innocent angel baby of the media’ of you.”

The hero kicked the boot of the body once more, and the villain winced. “Will you stop that–”

“Oh, sorry,” the hero looked down at the body. “Do you mind?” They turned back to the villain , gesturing with their thumb over their shoulder. “He says he doesn’t mind.”

“Archangel,” the villain repeated. “Fallen angel, saint of the city–”

“Listen, people will excuse anything if it comes from a pretty package.”

“What, so you use your pretty face to get away with murder?”

“No, I commit murder, and I happen to be pretty, and for some reason everyone is plenty fine with excusing the murder because of that fact. I’d be doing it regardless,” the hero confided. “My murderous tendencies continue whether or not I am forgiven for them.”

“What, so you just murder anyone you feel like?”

The hero gasped. “I’m not a monster,” they said, the corner of their mouth twisting into a wry grin. “My mother raised me right.”

The villain got the sense they were on the wrong side of an inside joke.

“That was decidedly not an answer to my question.”

The hero groaned. “You’re absolutely no fun right now. No, I only kill bad people. I’m a good samaritan.”

“I think we need to redefine your idea of what that term means.”

“Okay, if I was going around killing anyone who annoyed me, I would have a way longer rap sheet. Like people who cut in line. Not to mention how fucking annoying it is when someone decides to DIY a summoning circle in their basement and I have to handle that mess. Do you know how annoying it is to get magically butt dialed by a white woman on a random ass Tuesday?”

The villain blinked. “Uh. Can’t say I do, no.”

The hero ran a hand down their face in annoyance, smearing blood behind as they went. The villain cringed, but it didn’t seem to bother the hero in the slightest. 

“It’s really fucking annoying.”

“You also swear a lot,” the villain noted. “Not very heroic.”

“I think we can both agree I remain very firmly planted in the vigilante section of the spectrum,” the hero gestured with their hands to some imaginary chart. The villain squinted at them. “Also, what are you, the language police?”

“Uh,” the villain said, and the hero smiled innocently at them. There really wasn’t anything to say to that. “No?”

“Tell me, you pick up lots of girls with that suave demeanor of yours?”

The villain bristled at that. “You–I–ugh,” the villain groaned. “Did it hurt?”

The hero’s head tipped slightly to the side, endlessly amused. “Hmm?”

“When you fell from heaven,” the villain continued, and it was quite possibly the dumbest thing to have ever come out of their mouth, but this entire conversation bordered on a level of unhinged they hadn’t thought possible. 

The hero blinked once, twice, then burst into laughter, doubling over. Their wings ruffled in a way the villain had long since learned meant amusement.

The villain flushed. 

“You really think I fell from heaven?”

“I don’t know,” the villain said defensively. “It’s just a dumb pick up line–”

“You said it with an awful lot of certainty, though,” the hero countered, and the villain wished they had something to throw at them. 

“What was I supposed to think, with a name like Archangel and blinding white wings?”

The hero shrugged one shoulder.

“Have you ever actually met an angel before?” the hero asked, then amended, “other than me?”

“No,” the villain admitted.

“They don’t go around killing people, that’s for sure. Bunch of stuffy–”

Lightning cracked across the sky, and the ground rumbled slightly.

The hero groaned, wings tucking in. Blood flaked onto the ground. “What, you’re both pissed at me?”

A gust of wind whipped past them, hurtling down the alley, there one second and gone the next, and the hero let out a sigh. “Sorry.”

They did not sound sorry.

“Both?”

The hero looked back at them, and this time when they grinned, it was slightly sheepish.

“Yeah,” they said. “God, and, you know. My mom. Raised me right, remember?”

The villain was an idiot.

“You didn’t fall,” the villain confirmed, and the hero nodded their head. “Though I’m sure you absolutely would have earned that by now, if you were going to.”

The hero reared back, like they were about to spit something rude, but the villain continued before they could.

“Please, please tell me your father isn’t Lucifer,” the villain said, and the hero rubbed a hand across the back of their neck.

They laughed slightly. “Uh. About that.”

“Oh my god,” the villain said, and the hero didn’t even look upset about the reference. “You’re from hell.”

“You could call me an avid climber,” the hero offered, and the villain just looked at them.

“You’re an angel from hell,” the villain said.

“Technically, I’m an archangel from hell. So like, the media wasn’t exactly wrong with that one.”

The villain could write a killer memoir about this.

“This makes so much sense.”

The hero frowned. “I don’t like the implications of that.”

“You literally kill people.”

“Bad people,” the hero corrected. “We’ve discussed this.”

“I feel like that violates some sort of cosmic rule. There has to be some rule that breaks.”

“What?”

The villain gestured vaguely. “You’re self supplying your hometown.”

The hero laughed at that. 

“This really is not that big of a deal.”

“You’re a nepo baby.”

“And you’re awfully comfortable saying that to a literal child of satan.”

“If you wanted me dead, I would be.”

The hero weighed their head from side to side. Their wings moved behind them, as if they, too, were considering. “True.”

The villain found themself rubbing a hand over their brow. “You kill people, and you get away with it because you’re pretty, and people think you’re a child of god. When actually, you’re a child of Satan, and you crawled your way out of hell to wreak havoc on my life.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly why I did it,” the hero said dryly. “To fuck with you.”

“I would not put it past you,” the villain countered. 

“You were not my reason,” the hero said. They slid a step closer, hand curling into the villain’s collar, and the villain's mouth went dry. “But you are awfully pretty.”

“You’re literally an angel–”

“Which means it’s high praise,” the hero murmured, wings curving over the tops of their shoulders, and up close they looked even softer than the villain had thought they would. Their eyes stayed firmly planted on the villain’s lips, and the villain had no idea how they had gotten here but they were confused about it and also not quite mad–

“If you’re trying to woo me to distract me from the fact that you’re a dark angel, it’s not working.”

“Isn’t it?”

The villain swallowed. 

“You know, all that fan media includes you,” the hero said casually, and the villain’s heart skipped a beat.

“What?”

“You really thought I read it just for me?” the hero grinned, stepping back, hand falling away from the villain. “Oh, please.”

The villain opened their mouth to say anything, then closed it, then opened it again.

The hero’s eyes were laughing at them.

“Maybe the bloodshed is partially because I want your attention,” the hero mused. “Or maybe not. You’ll never know, will you, human.”

They said it like an endearment.

“You–”

The hero nodded. “Yeah. I tend to do that to people.”

“I don’t–”

“If it means anything,” the hero said as they went to move past the villain. They tucked themselves against the villain, lips brushing the shell of their ear. Their feathers skated down the villain’s bare arm, and they shivered. “My mother approves.”

The villain’s face was hot. They shuddered out a breath. The hero released them, continuing their path down the alleyway, and the villain spun to watch them go.

The hero paused at the mouth of it.

“Oh,” they snapped their fingers like they had remembered something, but their grin said this had been planned. “Her name is Lilith, by the way.”

The villain’s brain short circuited.

Lilith. The mother of all monsters. Lilith, the wife of Lucifer. Lilith, someone who apparently approved of the villain.

‘I’m not a monster. My mother raised me right.’

Oh, this little shit.

The hero laughed, vanishing around the corner, blowing a kiss as they went. The villain could have sworn they had a halo, wings still splattered with blood, and in the arch of the sunlight they were every bit the fallen angel the media thought they were.

“Oh, you beautiful, monstrous, wretched thing,” the villain murmured, but it was fond. “Only you could make damnation look like divinity.”

[rowanmutt-afterdark]

I've gotten a LOT of Mirage x Reader requests, so here I am feeding the lot of ya. Hope you enjoy! I got a couple ideas this one was by far my favorite. I already planned on doing an oral scene but a suggestion to do it helped motivate me.

I had a lot of fun writing this. I hope to write more Mirage and other Transformers Characters I'm the future.

Enjoy~

WARNING : ⚠️ 🔞 NSFW themes, oral sex, and masturbation included in this short fic. Please do not read if you are under the age or 18. This is a NSFW blog so if you are under the age, please move on!

ROTB Mirage X Gender Neutral Reader

It's night, that's all you know. You've lost track of the time. The amount of time you've spent on your back with your legs suspended over a pair of shoulders for… you can't even remember. All you can feel is a mouth and glossa teasing your sex. It's like his glossa is dancing around, leaving your back tingling and your legs shaking as he starts to bring you towards yet another orgasm.

You are making the lewdest of sounds as you buck against his face. His glossa slowing down as he helps you ride through your orgasm until he feels you go limp, is only when he pulls away to smirk down at you. A shit eating grin that makes you glare at him through your half lidded lashes.

"What number was that?" Mirage asks as he pulls away briefly to lick his lips, his blue eyes casting a glow over your body in the darkness of your garage.

"I-I can't remember." You admit, breathing heavily as you try to catch your breath. You hear a tsk and his glossa clicking in disappointment.

"Now, Mami/Papi, I told you to count for me. It seems I may have to start all over, again. I don't mind doing that, but from your bodies reaction. You're getting tired. Now, let me ask again, baby. What number?" He asks. You rack your brain for a number, your brain is so hazy with lust and the feeling of floating on cloud nine makes it even harder.

"N-nine?" You ask.

There's silence before you feel his mouth on you again making you sob in pleasure as he picks up where he left off. Sucking at you rather loudly, pulling your hips up off the table and closer to his mouth, your hips were practically pressing against his nose!

"Not quite, baby. The number you were looking for was thirteen. Seems you need another to help jog your memory. Don't worry, I'll keep you awake. We still have a few more hours until your roommate gets back. For now, enjoy the ride, baby."

You groan before squealing as his glossa is quickly working at you again. You can hear his lips smacking and sucking around you, it's loud and lewd. You love it. Though your body was starting to scream at you that it was starting to get to be too much. Mirage has you so focused on his glossa that you don't hear the sound of his paneling covering his spike opening with a soft 'click'. A soft glow and his arm not holding you is moving jerking motions.

You take a peek to see his servo wrapped around his erect spike. It's bright blue and red bio light lighting up his torso and thighs as he strokes himself while he's enjoying getting a taste of you. It's hot to see him getting lost on the pleasure he is feeling and giving you.

Mirage is a giver, he loves seeing you get worked up and begging for him. Due to the size difference, it's rather difficult to take him. So, you have found other ways around penetration. Though after the incident involving you almost popping yoru jaw out of place trying to give him oral, he's not let you do anything to his spike besides giving him a handjob or using your thighs.

"I can feel you getting closer, Ven a mí, nena~" He purrs against your sex making you arch your back and open your mouth in a silent scream as you cum again. This one hits you so hard that your vision goes white as Mirage helps keep you still against his mouth so you can ride it out.

When you come back to, Mirage has you laying on the blanket he laid out earlier. You are laying on your back and him laying on his side with his servo on your middle. You glance at his crotch to see his spike has already been tucked away, but his thighs are covered in his release.

"Have fun, mi amor?" He asks with a cheeky smirk. Your response is smacking at his chest rather weakly.

"Fuck you."

"We just did."

"I hate you."

"Love you too, mi amor."

[akuworld777]

The newspaper

Tim had told Kon all about the cloning incident, so a year later Tim hadn't really thought about it but now Kon was in his Wayne office wondering, why because Bruce refused to take over the company again unless that Tim would finish his education, but getting back to the point , Kon was there with a book in his hand, a book very very similar to Tim's diary, the diary he started after his dad's death, the diary in which he planned the murderer's death. of his father, even if in the end he did not kill him, diary where all the cloning data is, where each documented attempt is, where…. Where Tim goes crazy and Kon has the diary…

I had thought that he had hidden it, Tim had hidden it with all the cloning things, with the capsule, the generator, the data, the DNA. Tim had hidden it and if he had told Kon the address when he confessed to him about how he had tried it. clone in case he wants to go see, or destroy it, Tm's actually not sure why he told him that, hell he's not sure why he didn't burn everything to the ground, Probably because he was thinking of trying again, after all He only stopped because Cassie intervened and Bruce disappeared, he wasn't dead, Tim had brought him back and he wasn't dead, he wasn't crazy.

Actually Tim had thought that Kon would destroy everything and if he didn't he wouldn't find the diary, but he did and now he's probably here to tell him what an idiot he was, how disgusting he is for trying to clone his best friend 99 times, for that matter. How he kissed Cassie just to feel it, how he planned to use his DNA if the 100th attempt didn't work, trapping him with a baby, it didn't matter that at that moment Kon was dead, that there was actually no one to catch, god Tim It really was disgusting, wasn't it?

Too caught up in his head he didn't notice the intense look Kon was giving him, though his thoughts were cut off by a laugh, “I can't believe it, Cassie told me you were sick when me and Bart died but, I can't believe it.” I said that you kissed her to feel me” probably because he didn't know, Tim thought, although the thought didn't last long as he focused on what Kon was saying. "And although I knew about cloning, I didn't really expect you to have tried so hard, Tim, you were actually going to make a baby with our DNA, as if it were a husband who died and you were the mother who decided to keep the child to remember her dead loved one, it's very soap opera-like”

Tim felt like those words were digging into his conscience. Kon was saying it as if it were something absurd, he didn't seem malicious or angry, but his words felt wrong, it felt like he was making fun of what Tim had gone through, of his feelings. of his unrequited love, as if everything he did was nothing more than a bad joke, as if his mourning was worthless.

Kon seemed to realize the state Tim was in because he stopped laughing, examining him as if he were seeing him with his x-ray vision, examining him thoroughly. Unlike Bruce, Tim didn't mind being used, he felt seen in the way his parents never saw him.

Kon obviously realized something, because Tim felt the tkl pull him closer and suddenly he was trapped in the muscular, tanned arms of a Kryptonian, Tim felt himself melting in the embrace as Kon's ever-present warmth sank into him. his bones, relieving phantom pains that Tim had not even realized were there, it was like returning home, to his home, a home that seemed to have been missing for a while, he could not contain the sigh of satisfaction, but he did not regret leaving it. He left especially because Kon hugged him tighter and surrounded them both with his tactile telekinesis.

"I'm sorry, I didn't express myself well," Kon's voice sounded right next to his ear. that someone could do so much for me, could have fallen so low, could have I've suffered my loss enough to try everything." Tim felt a chill as Kon spoke, while that voice tickled his ear, but he also felt conflicted, a conflict between telling him that it wasn't that big of a deal and telling him that anyone would have done it, Cassie is proof she went and joined a cult because of his death, that he deserved that recognition, that he deserved people to worry about him, but he bit his tongue and let Kon continue instead of interrupting to express how incredible it was. It was Kon and how much it affected everyone that he was not there, how much it affected him.

“I don't want to say that what you did wasn't fucked up, damn it's actually kind of funny I'm a clone and you decided that to bring me back you were going to clone me instead of going to Constantie and making some deal with a god or demon.” Tim continued listening to Kon but made a mental note to dabble in necromancy since Kon seemed open to that and get more blackmail on Constantine, hell next time he would throw Kon's body in a lazarus pit or just jump in a building, before being without him again. As if Kon read his mind, Tim felt a tug on his hair which Kon had been stroking earlier and saw the disapproving look the super gave him.

"I'm sorry… I don't know what happened to me, you were gone, so many people were gone." Tim buried his face in Kon's shoulder. "I was just thinking about bringing you back, about bringing at least a part of you back." lap" Kon sighed “I'm not asking you to apologize Tim, I actually thought you were going to be much worse, it doesn't mean I approve of this but if I had come back to life and you had managed to have another me, I wouldn't have been angry… if you had achieved the “Baby, I wouldn’t be mad either…” The silence after that was louder than if this had been a shouting match, Tim once again confirmed that bats are not made for feelings… or maybe the trauma was simply preventing him from being good at feelings, or something. Maybe it was negligence.

Kon clarified the guarantee and spoke again, “Actually, it had been a year since all this and I probably should have talked to you since I read the entire diary, but I kept putting it off because I didn't know how to tell you this… I didn't know how. explain my feelings and I didn't know if I had really understood yours correctly, the hell I chose this moment because Cassie threatened to destroy the diary if I didn't talk to you and…and I thought that now that a year has passed, it probably won't affect you that much…" The pause felt like a shock so Kon wasted no time in continuing quickly.

“Probably what you feel for me is already gone and I thought if that's how I can deal with rejection… I can deal with that, I'm used to not having much luck in romance and this is Rob, he wouldn't make fun of me or nothing, our relationship could continue….” Kon's voice became lower and lower as if he felt unsure of continuing, but Tim couldn't pay much attention to that, because Kon had just confessed to him, to Tim Drake, he had just confessed and he was actually thinking. that Tim would reject him, he thought that Tim would have gotten bored of him because it had been a year, just a year and Tim wanted to hit him because Tim had been feeling something for him since they were only 4 in young Justice and Kon thought that one year he would to be enough to make Tim forget about his feelings, to make Tim reject him.

Kon had arrived with the damn diary where Tim poured his soul, his sorrow, his pain, his mourning, his love and he had tried to take it with humor as he always did with serious topics trying not to get hurt, the trauma appeared in many forms and everyone They had a way of dealing with him, Kon had always used humor, kind of like Dick. He probably planned to pretend that everything was a joke if Tim rejected him, but Tim would never reject him so he took a deep breath and separated from the hug, the TKL let go easily but at the same time seemed to want to keep him there, Kon looked at him sadly, he seemed resigned and Tim couldn't allow that.

"I still like you… If you hadn't come back in the middle of my search for Bruce, I probably would have done the baby plan after bringing Bruce back, put my DNA and yours in a capsule and spent months hiding creating fake IDs, buying a house, getting a fake job, in some random country and I would have raised the baby there.” It may not be the most poetic or emotional declaration of love, hell in reality he hadn't even said that he loved him or that he liked him but Tim was a vigilante, above all he was a bat and practically Tim's entire life had revolved around heroes and That Tim is confessing to Kon what is basically that he was going to retire from being a vigilante with a test tube baby of the two, was very significant.

“I liked you from the beginning of Young Justice, I may not have loved you that early but I liked you, and after breaking up with Steph I realized that I wasn't that interested in her, because the breakup didn't hurt me that much. Instead I was more focused on the fact that we were going out the next day and that I had nothing to wear, damn Steph helped me choose what to wear because she had also realized it long before me", "you are, nice handsome, you smile seems to light up the day, your hugs are like scorching the home, I can feel the heat, the comfort, the affection, you are like a respite from the pain, the memories are the discomfort, you never judge anything, damn it, I tried to clone you 99 times and you keep saying that you don't blame me for it, even knowing that you had a lot of problems regarding your identity due to cloning, you always support everyone, you always seem to know everything, you never push me or anyone to do things I don't want to do, Hell, when my parents weren't at Christmas or when Bruce and I were arguing, you were the angriest, you always defended me, you gave fucking Jason Todd a threat for trying to kill me, you…" Tim could have spent hours talking about everything good about Kon if he had the time he would even show you his power point and his graph of over 100 reasons why Kon was a unique, admirable person and anyone who said otherwise was obviously a villain, but he couldn't since warm lips that felt like the sun on the morning of a spring day rested on his lips, effectively silencing him.

Tim had priorities and preferred to indulge in the kiss than in his talk about why Kon is the best person in the world, sue him, if Superboy kissed them they surely wouldn't be able to think, much less continue with a speech.

The kiss was perfect, not in the traditional way after all, Tim. And him still didn't know what the other liked and it was a little awkward for it being the first kiss they shared, but the feelings were there, every movement of lip to lip, They told praises of love and professed devotion, each touch was warm and moved the heart of the other, it was a promise, a prophecy fulfilled, a river that overflowed as the minutes passed and the feelings of each one were transmitted in the kiss.

The only thing that brought them out of their concentration was the noise of a pile of leaves falling to the floor. They quickly separated. Tim had thought that Kon had dropped the newspaper but unfortunately they were not so lucky. His assistant Katerin, the substitute since Tam was sick, had just seen 18-year-old Tim Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, kissing Superboy… Tim would have to pay her so much to keep quiet.

[fujii-draws]

Rest

Summary: As a zephyr of light wind passed the cloaked wraith. The bustling, lively sounds and sights of Treasure town are unable to capture his attention. For the Gripper Pokémon was too busy tending to a certain pup, gently resting in his arms.

[Word Count: 3731]

———————

‘Riolu, Emanation Pokémon’

‘It is a widely known fact that riolu’s have a tendency to curl up and nestle into Pokémon they fully trust. Though, a rare phenomenon, seeing as they can sense one’s intentions. You’d be lucky to have one of them even remotely tolerate you.’

…

…It’d been text from a book Dusknoir had picked up recently out of morbid curiosity, mainly as to figure out why a certain young aura pup with him had been so… needy. Suffice to say, the answer he’d gotten did not disappoint, feeling a great sense of pride, and fondness swelling deep inside his chest.

“Mmmn…”

Speaking of…

…An Aura pokémon had been slumbering peacefully on the ghost-type for the past hour or so— having curled himself into a tiny ball on Dusknoir’s scarred chest. It was a foreign feeling. Yet it endeared the specter to the riolu. The cloaked ghost could feel the small aura pup’s breathing, as well as his little heart, beating rhythmically within his small body.

Rather than picking up the boy and letting him lay on the grass… Dusknoir had kept him close. Even going as far as to take extra precautionary measures ensuring the young pup had been comfortable. The Gripper Pokémon’s giant hand reached for the Relic fragment and red scarf wrapped around his yellow neck fur—gently loosening it with his index finger and thumb. Before placing it on the soft patch of grass.

It was a strange feeling, having something barely as big as Dusknoir’s hand, peacefully dozing on him without a single hint of fear …If anything, he’d assumed his imposing stature would scare the riolu away. But seeing the pup like this… it made the ghost-type feel serene. Dare he goes far as to say a little delighted, especially when putting into consideration the circumstances around it.

Normally the riolu would be working himself a mile-a-minute, having been too anxious to rest for even a second with the dreaded ‘Time Gear thief’ on the loose. Everyone at the guild, including his own Eevee partner, had begged for the Riolu to calm down. To rest. That Grovyle would be captured in due time… yet to no avail. So to see the young, agitated Pokémon… finally having a moment of peace… It had made Dusknoir slightly protective of the Riolu, wanting to ensure that the poor, young pup got his much needed rest.

Any Treasure Town residents that had passed the two Pokémon had been met with a simple nod of acknowledgement, or finger hovering under his red and gold eye in a ‘shushing’-like motion. He’d sometimes even glare at certain Pokémon who were being obnoxiously loud. Which usually did the trick. But every single time, the ghost-type’s attention would fall back to the little pup.

“Mmn… nngh…”

Aimilios had let out a tiny yawn, before shifting to sleep on his other side. Dusknoir found himself smiling towards this small action, gently reaching his massive hand towards the riolu.

“Tired little one, aren’t you..?” Dusknoir hummed, petting his fur gently.

“..Mhm..” Aimilios unconsciously responded with his eyes closed. He yawns, before nuzzling into the ghost even further.

“I see.” Dusknoir chuckles out, responding humorfully towards the riolu’s… clearly concise response.

The sleepy aura pup used his tiny paws to hold onto Dusknoir— His equally small tail and knees curling in an admittedly endearing attempt to hide from the cold. That’d go without even mentioning the momentary twitching of his ears— all of which endeared the cloaked ghost-type even further towards the riolu.

He bellows a chuckle, continuing to pet the fighting-type with his large hand— humming to himself. Dusknoir continued to watch over the riolu fondly, securing the small fighting-type safe in his arms— offering warmth as he continued to watch him idly with a half-lidded eye. As the pup held onto Dusknoir unconsciously… he couldn't help but wonder where his trust in the ghost-type spawn from so quickly…?

Despite his positive reputation as “The Great Dusknoir '' perceiving him, aswell as saving him and Ribbons from Amp plains… he knew just how easily frightened Aimilios was. Especially considering the reputation and intimidating features ghost-types are known for… and that’s without touching upon the sizable differences compared to the pup. It played a small factor in why Aimilios evaded him and his affections in the beginning.

Dusknoir knew his hand alone was probably big enough to equal that of the riolu’s body size- it wouldn’t be difficult to snuff the life out of him with a single, bone-crushing grip— to simply be done with his mission.

And yet.

“……”

…There Aimilios was, gingerly sleeping on the ghost-type after a long, somewhat uneventful day.

_____

Just an hour ago, the Gripper Pokémon had been reading under a shaded tree, wanting to take in the world of the past as much as possible before his inevitable return to the dark, bleak future that had awaited him. It was… a nice and rare leisurely pass time for the ghost; Dusknoir wanted to savor every bit of it. Especially with the even rarer moments of free time where he could put the celebrity facade to rest. It came to a halt however, the wraith catching the slightest hint of blue in the corner of his eye.

“Hm..?”

A frozen riolu, who’d been staring at Dusknoir from afar. It was rather obvious he was trying to muster up the courage to interact with the ghost-type. With a smile, Dusknoir decided to invite the riolu over— humming with a nod.

Off in the distance, Aimilios… clearly wasn’t expecting an offer from the famous Dusknoir to come sit with him. Judging from how caught off-guard he’d been. The cloaked specter only chuckled at the riolu doing a double-take; looking both ways before pointing to himself. He’d almost yelped when he saw Dusknoir signaling him over, giving him the go to come near… It felt almost unreal to the fighting-type. Trying to hide his fear, (and excitement), Aimilios awkwardly shuffles his way towards the Great explorer.

…At first it’d been rather quiet; with Dusknoir reading and Aimilios staring up at the sky, with the occasional, unsubtle glimpse of the book the ghost-type had been reading. Dusknoir didn’t mind however, pretending to not notice the riolu’s obvious interest. Not wanting to put the riolu on the spot so suddenly.

He allowed the curious pup to peer over his shoulder, pretending to be oblivious to the riolu’s excitement. It was until Aimilios piped up with the tiniest, excited bark; pointing at one of the passages the cloaked specter had skimmed, that he finally acknowledged the riolu. Aimilios almost immediately apologized for the outburst, (almost as formally as Dusknoir, which humored the ghost-type.) but Dusknoir only raised an eyebrow, shifting the book closer to make it easier for the both of them to read.

“O-oh!-“ Aimilios stuttered. “I’m sorry Mr. Dusknoir, sir! I didn’t mean t-to—!”

“No no, by all means!” Dusknoir boisterously spoke, shaking his head. “I’d quite enjoy your company. It was beginning to get rather quiet.”

The large ghost-type smiled warmly, the wrinkles in his eye folding up. Dusknoir preferred silence— but he’d added in that last bit to ease the riolu’s nerves— curious to see more of this side of Aimilios.

The ghost patted the patch of grass, signaling Aimilios to sit near him. He awkwardly scoots over— falling strangely silent once more… but with a little reassurance and time, the aura pup had started to wag his tail, excitedly pointing from passage-to-passage with enthusiasm. Not only eagerly asking the ghost-type questions about certain things within the book, but also explaining passages to him… displaying his sharp-wit and intellect despite his younger age.

Aimilios’s brightness and eagerness to learn, mesmerized Dusknoir, to put it lightly. He’d never seen this side to the riolu before, despite hearing from Ribbons— his smaller, more louder Eevee partner, plenty of times. Which piqued Dusknoir’s interest, but he never quite got to see it.

…Not until now that is.

Dusknoir had always assumed from their first interaction that he’d done something to upset the Riolu. A miscalculation, perhaps. What he hadn’t accounted, was for the small child to pick up on some of his mannerisms. Psychoanalyzing the large revenant with terrifying accuracy. Something Aimilios stopped doing when he felt the renowned explorer staring at him for a little too long.

The cloaked revenant felt a shift in the fighting-type’s demeanor when Aimilios read his aura for the very first time; around when they conversed at the Kelceon Market, to be more specific. Going from a soft-spoken, yet starry-eyed pup… into a more uncomfortable, timid form— hiding behind his smaller partner. He saw this same, apprehensive look in the Riolu’s eye when they were on the beach. Where Dusknoir had insisted that he ‘unfortunately’ didn’t have any information to spare regarding his Eevee partner’s memory. The wraith sensed Aimilios’s sudden want to leave when he presumably absorbed the nauseating aura radiating from him.

This… admittedly somewhat saddened the large ghost-type. He didn’t understand why he seeked the small aura pup’s acquiescence the way he did. But it hurt to see the aura pup’s blood pressure spike whenever he’d gotten near. Perhaps… because of how terrified and shy Aimilios was… he reminded the battle-scarred phantom of himself when he was a meek Duskull.

Compared to his partner, who he seemed to already have wrapped around his finger, it was clear to the cloaked specter how much more patience and maintenance the riolu required. Being extra cautious and kind around the fragile pup. Making himself out to be approachable as possible as he sought out the young fighting-type. Taking priority in the riolu’s as he took him under his wing, personally training and educating the young pup. In one-on-one sessions together.

It didn’t take long for the rest of Treasure town to see the clear special treatment he’d been giving the Riolu. Ribbons were also an exception, but it was clear how much less tense and strict the Great Dusknoir had become around the Aura Pokémon.

He’d greeted other Pokémon in the township rather professionally, but when Aimilios had approached and tugged on his cloak sheepishly. It felt as if the ghost-type became an entirely different Pokémon— floating closer to the ground and extending careful hands towards the pup as he warmly greeted him.

Though the majority of his kindness had been fabricated towards the beginning…Dusknoir’s gestures slowly grew to be more genuine. It was indescribable. To see the timid riolu slowly grow more comfortable around him. Whether it’d been a small smile, or watching as the small Pokémon reached for his large hand. Curling his black mittened paw over his finger as the pup rambled on about what he was previously telling the now endeared specter. Holding his paw back with a gentle squeeze.

Aimilios looked happy merely seeing another Pokémon take him and his interests seriously. Dusknoir couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment, being able to aid in breaking the riolu out of his shell. The pup had gone on and on… to the point of tuckering himself out. Hoho…

…Eventually leading to where they were now in the present. Finding the same, reticent aura pup… sleeping comfortably on him. Dusknoir’s cloak tendrils curl around in a protective barrier at the mere sight alone. Dusknoir simply watched over Aimilios as he continued to cling onto him like a baby Komala... It was a sight the Gripper Pokémon had been taking in for the past hour.

“Nghh…”

The Gripper Pokémon observed quietly as Aimilios woke up—in the form of a little stretch whilst yawning, smacking his lips. The fighting-type rubbed his eyes open, whirling his head left and right—looking as if he’d been trying to figure out which continent he was on. Humoring the wraith quite a bit.

“This…” Aimilios groggily begins. “…isn’t the guild…”

Dusknoir’s stomach maw parted slightly, letting out a low, rumbling chuckle at the now awakening Riolu. Aimilios’s eyes drift upwards, squinting at the source of the noise… only to find himself on top of the gargantuan wraith’s chest.

“No, I do not believe it to be so either.” The gargantuan wraith lightly jokes.

“D-Dusknoir..?!” He exclaimed, staring up at the cloaked ghost-type that’d been holding him for the past hour, his tail frizzing out visibly as his ears and black appendages perked up.

“Good afternoon, Aimilios.“ Dusknoir chuckled out in a playful wit, continuing to lightly tease the young riolu.

“W-why am I here..?! Did I..?” Aimilios frantically sputtered. He nearly leapt off the dusknoir; his paws hoisting his upper body as he continued to whip his head left and right. Interrupting Dusknoir with his frenzied panic.

“…Aimilios?” Dusknoir had stopped smiling at this point, his worry increasing from the Riolu’s frantic movement. “Please, try to calm down— I don’t understand-“

“O-oh no— oh no no no—!“ Aimilios holds his paws on his face in disbelief; red pupils shrink as more and more intrusive thoughts fill the aura pup’s mind— “I didn’t mean to—!”

“Aimilios.”

…Dusknoir admittedly felt horrible, slightly raising his voice towards the panicking riolu. But it was the only way he could stop whatever train of thought Aimilios was having right in its tracks.

“Just slow down.” He cuts the terrified aura pup off, stroking his face with his huge, scarred thumb. Calming the small riolu. His words prove effective, seeing as Aimilios froze completely per Dusknoir’s request. He continues to pet the riolu, trying to calm the little one down.

“I…”

“…It’s quite alright.” He says, already have forgiven the young fighting-type— his soft smile not leaving his face. “Now… Did you rest well?”

Aimilios stares wide eyed, almost bewildered by the ghost’s question. After a couple of seconds have passed, he coyly looks away, nodding slightly with the tiniest ‘mhm.’

Another low chuckle.

“I'm glad to hear.”

Despite this, Aimilios looks away from the giant wraith, almost ashamed of his actions. Dusknoir’s expression contorts to that of slight worry.

“…What troubles you?” The large specter asks, his head slightly tilting in confusion at the riolu’s movements.

“Wh-why didn’t you wake me up…?”

“Pardon..?” Dusknoir eye widens slightly. Aimilios breaking away eye contact as he does.

“…W-With all due respect Dusknoir sir..!-“ Aimilios yelps. “Y-You could’ve just told me to leave you alone…! You didn’t have to wait that entire time just for me to w-wake up..!”

Ah.

“You looked peaceful.” Dusknoir calmly stated. “I did not intend to disturb you.”

“Wh?- Why not..!?” Aimilios shouts near the end, covering his mouth with his paws towards his outburst. The riolu now having gotten the ghost-type’s full attention, who looked down towards the young Pokemon in concern.

“Was there something you were planning to do today?” Dusknoir woes. “Forgive me, Aimilios. If I had known, I would have—

“That’s not it..!”

“Then… what is?” Dusknoir had sat up more straightly at this point; giving his full, undivided attention to the terrified riolu. The ghost-type’s expression is filled with concentration; traces of worry added into the mix.

“Excuse me for my bluntness… but… I don’t quite understand what you’re trying to tell me.”

Aimilios looks bewildered at the last part of Dusknoir’s sentence.

“I-I mean-..! You’re the Dusknoir..!” Aimilios exclaims. Gesturing to the ghost with both of his paws stretched out. “You’re the world renowned explorer of the Grass-continents..! You probably had a bunch of important work you could’ve been doing…!”

Dusknoir’s expression shifts slightly.

“…You didn’t have to wait on a nobody like me…” Aimilios pouts. “I-I would’ve gotten out of your way if you’d just told me-“

Aimilios is cut off rather abruptly by the cloaked ghost. He feels himself suddenly being cradled against the phantom’s body. His cloaking wrapped all around the grass and riolu in a protective, outer ring. Dusknoir makes quiet shushing noises in an attempt to soothe the little riolu. Aimilios feels his stress slowly evaporate the longer he’s held. The young fighting-type shuts his eyes as he sinks a little into the soft, dark-gray like flesh.

“Is that all..?”

“…”

“Aimilios.” Dusknoir began softly, yet with assuredness in his words. “You need not worry about how I spend my time. Whether it be work, job requests, or even to sign autographs.” He inhales a deep breath, before sighing melancholically. “That being said…”

The Gripper Pokémon rubs the side of his face with his large thumb in circular motions in an attempt to console the self-deprecating Riolu. He cups the riolu’s face with his large, battle-scarred palms, making certain that the young boy was looking at him when he says his next words. “I wished to spend my time with you. I wanted to be here, regardless of whatever duties I could have been attending to.”

Aimilios looks up at Dusknoir with his glassy eyes. His words getting through to him once more.

“So rest… I won’t be going anywhere, lest you request me to.”

“……” The riolu stares at the ghostly giant for quite some time. Bewildered by the sheer authenticity of his words. All while the same, soft expression never leaving his eye. Aimilios was trying to find a hint of irony or perhaps even cruel sarcasm… but all he sees is Dusknoir’s real and faux, gold eyes. Smiling softly.

“Y-You mean it…?”

“I do.”

“And…” Aimilios stutters “Y-you don’t mind…?”

Dusknoir brings the riolu closer to him.

“Not one bit.”

“………okay.” Aimilios mumbled, barely audible, but just loud enough for Dusknoir to hear. He sees Aimilios no longer fighting to keep his eyes open. Dusknoir softly smiles once more. He watches Aimilios shifting around to get more comfortable— balling both of his little paws into fists. The Riolu huddles into himself once more. Something in the riolu’s chest twinges with a warm feeling when he sees Dusknoir gathering him closer into his arms… Aimilios smiles at Dusknoir one last time— before returning to his sleep. Being held gently by the large figure watching over him.

“…Comfortable?”

A nod, Aimilios willingly allowing himself to go limp in Dusknoir’s embrace. The ghost-type feels the young riolu smiling.

“I’m glad to hear it.” A large, gentle finger reaches to move the black appendage covering Aimilios’s face. He stared fondly at the aura pup, who was now finally allowing himself to be vulnerable around Dusknoir… the ghost’s mind wanders back to the book he’d been reading. About how difficult it was to gain the trust of a Pokémon such as Aimilios, considering their built-in lie-detector in aura sensing… and how much trust he put in Dusknoir.

“…...” a slight shadow fell over the ghost’s face as more sinister, deadpan expression twisted in the specter’s eye— looking away from Aimilios.

How it pained him knowing soon that Aimilios would come to realize how foolish he’d been, trusting a deceptive Pokémon such as himself.

But for now…He’d indulge in this moment… he’ll take in the scene laying right before him. Of when Aimilios still trusted in him. He’ll carry out this meaningless delusion… just a little longer.

“Rest well…little stalwart…” Dusknoir hummed softly. Gazing at the Aura Pokémon once more with the same fondness he’d been looking at him since he’d first slept. His cloak wisps and surrounds the small fighting-type— swaying and curling in-tune with the ghost’s emotions towards Aimilios. The time for their confrontation will come, but for now…

…He’ll keep Aimilios happy.

For as much time as he has left.

…

Dusknoir stayed true to his word as he held the small riolu until sundown. Orange-pink skies were now replaced with a star-filled night overhead. A black, yet beautiful tranquility fell upon the town and its residents as the revenant took in the majestic view. Nights in the present were eons better in comparison to the empty future.

The ghost-type’s attention is promptly stolen by the young pup, sleeping gently in his arms. A small bit of warmth from the aura pokemon leaked into his chest from the time spent cradling him. Keeping the little one from freezing with insulation. But it was clear from the way Aimilios began shivering that his thin fur coat wasn’t enough to brace the elements.

“Let’s get you somewhere warm, shall we?” The cloaked revenant spoke to the unconscious aura pup, still smiling at the sight.

Dusknoir grabbed the Relic Fragment and red scarf laying on the patch soft grass. Now holding the riolu’s belongings in his fist, the revenant begins departing onwards, floating straight to Wigglytuff’s guild.

…

He was aware of the curfew set for guild members. Primed of the knowledge thanks to a certain nosy brown fox. Dusknoir really had to speak with Ribbons’ snooping activities, especially regarding her guildmates’ personal journals. The ghost-type floated stealthily by the perched bird. Sparing the aura pup from a harsh scolding that would have awaited him in the morning.

The giant specter floated silently past the other guildmates’ rooms through the narrow hallway. He noticed Aimilios grimacing in his sleep as they went by Loudred’s room. Which Dusknoir empathized with as soon as he heard the same, ear-splitting snore roaring from within. It’s no wonder the poor boy hadn’t gotten any sleep.

Upon entering Team Hope’s dormitory, Dusknoir is greeted with the sight of a slumbering Eevee. Laying flat on her back with her maw agape— drool dripping from the side of her mouth. If her hind legs twitching was any to go by— It was clear the Eevee was dreaming about… something. What that was could be anyone’s guess, Dusknoir internally chuckled to himself. Her snores, while not as loud as her purple companion, were… unnatural to say the least. Sighing heavily, the cloaked wraith hovers over Aimilios's haybed. But stops himself halfway.

Almost hesitant to let go.

Between the Riolu and his vixen partner, physical contact with the young Eevee was much, much more common. Ribbons would almost always be located somewhere around his body— mainly his ruffs. Dusknoir thoroughly enjoyed her company, despite her complete disregard for personal space.

Then there was the Riolu, who was the complete opposite.

Any attempts made at getting physically closer to the riolu were met with shy declines. Most of which, we’re always laced with a hint of fear, looking up at the ghost type before backing away slowly. Which the Gripper Pokémon understood. It was a given, afterall. Ghost-types we’re not known for their positive reputation or welcoming looks. Even if Aimilios was starstruck— he would only retreat from Dusknoir at the very last second.

So when the aura pup finally felt comfortable enough to not only climb on his stomach to better study the book he’d been skimming. But to fall asleep right on his chest…?

It felt almost sacred.

…

After moments of contemplation, the hesitant wraith gently placed the young Pokémon down. The Riolu didn’t make it any easier on the elder ghost-type, who kept clinging onto him as he tried to let go. Once detached from Aimilios, Dusknoir floats back the way he came. Not before taking one, final glance towards the sleeping pup.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 24 - Kid Fic

@wolfstarmicrofic July 24, word count 975

Part five of werewolf Sirius

CW - Mentions of child abuse (Not described)

Previous part First part

When they’d gotten back to the camp, Greyback had disappeared but a lot of the wolves that had been friendly to him since he got there were now keeping their distance. It was definitely because of what Greyback had said the day before. And then the whole Regulus thing. Regulus's death had been reported in the papers. Sirius had mourned him, but now there was a chance that he was still alive. Sirius slept poorly that night. He dreamed of his brother.

“Sirius, Sirius, where are you?” The worried voice of his little brother cried out in the dark. 

“Hey, hey. Shhhhh, I’m here,” Sirius soothed Regulus, slipping into his bed and cradling him against his chest. Regulus had night terrors almost nightly. Sirius normally got to Regulus’s room quicker, but his mother had punished him that afternoon when he covered for Regulus when he’d dropped a glass at lunchtime. He was so sore that he’d just fallen asleep and was woken by Regulus’s screams. He had to get Regulus to stop quickly or else their mother would come and Sirius would have to listen to Regulus’s screams without being able to help him. 

Regulus was shaking in his arms. Sirius began telling him fairy tales from a muggle book he’d read in the local library. His parents, of course, had no idea he'd even stepped foot in a muggle library, but there were only so many times he could read Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump before he went insane. Tonight’s story was about a mermaid who fell in love with a prince and traded her voice to a sea witch in exchange for legs. It did not have a happy ending, but that was muggles for you.

Regulus had fallen asleep by the end and an exhausted Sirius followed soon after. He slipped out when the birds first started chirping and went back to his own bed. 

“What do you boys have planned today?” Orion asked over the top of his newspaper when they came down for breakfast, already dressed in smart clothing befitting the young heir and his brother of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

“I thought we could go out into the gardens and identify the uses of the magical plants in the greenhouses,” Sirius said as formally as he could. He didn’t care about the plants, he wanted an excuse to be outside all day so he could teach Reggie how to fly. 

“Uh huh,” Orion raised his eyebrow. “No more than five feet off the ground and do not let your mother catch you. Ensure you are back inside and presentable before lunch is served.” Sirius and Regulus wolfed their food down and hurried outside. 

“Are we really going to fly?!” Regulus asked him excitedly. Sirius couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. 

“We are,” Regulus leapt into his arms and hugged him tightly. “You have to listen to everything I say, Reggie, okay?” Regulus dropped his feet back to the floor and nodded his head so hard his curls flew everywhere. “Good. Follow me.” 

Sirius pulled out two brooms from the small broom shed behind the greenhouses. “Okay, so first thing you have to put your hand above the broom and very clearly and confidently say ‘Up’, like this. Up,” He ordered the broom and it shot into his hand. Regulus took a deep breath and copied Sirius’s movements. 

“Up,” He said quietly. The broom didn’t move. He looked at Sirius, his eyes filling with tears. 

“Don’t worry, try again. Just be a bit more confident. You can do it, I believe in you,” Sirius ruffled Regulus’s curls. 

“Up,” Regulus repeated, his voice a little stronger. “Sirius, did you see, did you see? It moved!” The broom had rolled over. 

“Amazing, try again,” Sirius encouraged. It took a few more attempts, but finally, the broom rose to Regulus’s waiting hand.  

“Well done, Reggie. Alright, step number two. Kick off gently from the ground and we’ll hover. Be careful not to kick off too hard, or you’ll rise too high. Copy me,” Sirius barely pushed his feet from the ground and slowly rose until his toes were just brushing the grass. 

Regulus had a death grip on his broom handle, but he copied Sirius exactly and rose to the same height. Being shorter than Sirius, his feet were a bit higher off the ground than his brothers. 

“Wow, that was excellent, Reggie, I’m so proud of you. Right, you’re going to lean forward and follow me. We’ll start with a few circles.” Sirius showed him how to make the broom move, and soon they were racing around the garden having a wonderful time. 

“Boys,” Orion called them in just before lunch. He shook his head when they ran over to him after landing and putting their brooms away. He raised his wand and both boys tensed, but Orion just used Scourgify on their sweaty faces, smoothed their wayward hair and straightened their rumpled clothes. “Hurry up, your mother will be back shortly,” Orion warned, before returning to the house.  

“I love you, Sirius,” Regulus threw his arms around Sirius’s middle. 

“I love you too, Reggie,” Sirius chuckled, stroking his brother’s head. He kept an arm wrapped around him as they went to join their parents for lunch, only letting go when they were outside the dining room.

Sirius woke crying as the dream still played behind his eyes. He and Regulus had been so close when they were young, it was only when he’d left for Hogwarts and made his first-ever friends and been sorted into Gryffindor that they had begun to drift apart, and it had only gotten worse over the years.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ll find him,” Remus whispered lovingly into his ear, pulling him closer and lulling him back to sleep. 

Next part

[adrift-in-thyme]

Here it is! The fairy Time fic I promised. Be warned, it is extremely fluffy

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

It is a quiet night.

Time is always grateful for those. They are in short supply on this journey, too often interrupted by the rise of the cursed Blood Moon or an outburst of beasts from under the cover of foliage. But tonight, the moon is tranquil and golden and the surrounding bushes and trees conceal nothing except chattering critters.

The heroes have settled around the fire, and are trading lazy quips. The occasional tale sneaks in between them, which quickly becomes a competition to see who has endured the more exciting experience. 

Time doesn’t normally make a habit of joining in. He is content to remain just outside the conversation, close enough to comment if necessary, but far enough to merely listen. Such peace and joy are precious things – as precious as every moment spent by Malon’s side – and they surround him like a warm blanket.  

Tonight, however, that wonderful feeling is making it rather difficult to remain awake. 

It doesn’t help that the healing spells he had cast in the aftermath of today’s battle have left him feeling drained. With the traveler down and their potions used up, he had had little choice but to act. And he doesn’t regret it in the least. But that doesn’t negate the fact that healing magic has never been his strong suit.

Every fae possesses the power, yet not all have the strength to employ it in such a measure as he had today. Healing is a delicate act. It requires attentiveness and care, dedication and focus. He had poured all of that and more into his spells, used his heart and mind, his soul to heal his brothers’ wounds and save their lives. And in the moments afterward…had collapsed. 

He is fortunate his brothers had been there to catch him. Too many times before he learned his limit, this weakness had spelled his doom. He has scars on his wings to prove it.

Still, he is practically useless, even now after the impromptu nap. He feels dried up and hollowed out, limbs heavy with the same exhaustion that drags his eyelids downward. And though he would normally protest at least a little at the prospect of staying in his current position, he cannot dredge up the will to do so.

So, here he remains, curled up on his side on Wind’s lap, Warriors’ scarf a silken cocoon about his body, one giant wing draped over him like a comforter. 

He shifts with a small sigh. The sailor giggles, ever amazed at his fairy form, and reaches out to run a finger over Time’s wings. He is gentle, careful in every movement. Still, Time is a bit surprised at the lack of the fear that usually bubbles up whenever anyone touches him in this form.

He has had too many injuries, too many close calls with death or worse. They have made him wary. But he trusts the sailor. Wind is nothing if not kind. 

He is safe here. 

The knowledge hits him harder than any monster blow.

You are safe here.

Something breathtakingly warm wells up in him at that thought, similar to the feeling he has been basking in since he awakened, yet unique all the same.

“Alright, old man?” A soft voice asks, now, and Time pries open the eye he hadn’t even registered closing. Warriors grins down at him. 

Time’s soft hum quickly dissolves into a blissful sigh as the captain tucks him more securely into his bed of softness. He allows his eye to slide shut again, his body to relax more fully. He allows the sensations and sounds to envelop him, surround him in warmth and comfort. To pull him down into blessed darkness once more.

“He’s adorable like this,” Wind says, his noisy whisper breaking through the haze. Another giddy giggle bursts forth from him like gurgling water. 

“He is, isn’t he?” It’s Twilight now. Time can imagine the dirt-eating grin on his face, the same one that spreads across Malon’s when she beats him in yet another race around the pasture. “Though I doubt he wants us calling him that.”

There’s a pause, then in a disapproving whisper-yell, “and he definitely doesn’t want that. Put that slate of yours away, champion!”

There is the distinct sound of a camera snapping a photograph. Laughter ripples through the group like the wind through the trees. 

“When he kills you all, don’t come running to me,” Twilight says, though there’s laughter in his voice too.

Traitors, Time thinks, lazily, all of them.

“Oh, come on, Twi. Look at him! He wouldn’t hurt us! Not like this anyway.”

“Then, you haven’t gotten a good look at his wings,” Legend pipes up, drily. “They’ve got eyes on them, you know.”

“Ooh.” Time can feel Wind’s breath ghosting him as the boy leans down to get a closer look. “I wonder if they make up for the one he lost. I’ll bet he can see us through ‘em!”

If Time wasn’t quite so tired (or finding this quite so exasperatingly comical) he would correct that assumption. But then again, what’s the harm in allowing a little rumor like that to spread and strike some healthy fear into the hearts of his would-be blackmailers? 

“Come on guys.” Warriors’ voice rises above the hushed clamor of the others, all bickering about Time’s ability, or lack thereof to watch them through his wings. “He’s exhausted. Let him sleep.”

The heroes try to quiet, though their efforts are about as successful as Time suspected they would be. Whispers and barely stifled laughter continue to weave their way gallantly through the night.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

…though a few more telltale clicks of Wild’s slate cement his decision to play a prank on him as soon as he regains his strength. 

“He’s so small,” someone murmurs, now as the hubbub begins to subside, sleepiness getting the best of even the most energetic among them. Sky, Time’s mind slowly supplies, putting a face to the voice that wafts gently around him. “To think, he healed us all while in that form…”

“Something you get to know very quickly about Sprite is that size doesn’t bother him,” Warriors replies, fondness in his tone. “Even as a kid, he could take out groups of monsters much larger than what we faced today.”

Sky chuckles, soft and almost sad. Time is too far gone to decipher why. 

But he can’t deny the sudden rush of warmth when the chosen hero whispers, “thank you…little one.” And when, in the next moment, Sky ghosts a finger over the very tip of his wings, Time is unafraid beneath his touch. 

He drifts off not long afterward to the sound of tired murmurs, the crackling of the campfire, and a soft song played upon an ocarina, the notes drifting up toward the moon.

[gibuckaroo]

you called me angel for the first time (my heart leapt from me)

teen & up | 31k

For a moment, he wonders with his eyes open fixating on the mole under Eddie’s left eye as he’s peaceful and serene and near that if Buck were to reach out and touch him—would he be considered holy? Would the touch bleed through his flesh? Would he be regarded as sacred having to touch something reverent? Would this be a prayer? Would this be talking to God asking him to do something divine?

Or: Buck realises his feelings for Eddie as Eddie learns to bake, shaves his moustache off, tries to bring his son back home and realises he’s gay all this time.

link to ao3 here

[overly-verbose]

I'm just thinking that Uraume is a great cook, but the real masterpieces are made up of people. I understand that Sukuna will be a little uncomfortable eating people's kebabs (that usually scares teenagers, you know). BUT. The moral mobility of His Evil Majesty's mentality simply says to me: Find the enemy, and the big guy will finally get a nice meal. He worked so hard, he deserves dinner. ("Fu_k, Marry, Eat" game. Start). SO. ONE DAY. People tempura — yes or no? How much Curse is in our King?

Uraume is indeed a great cook, ridiculously even lol

- I mean afaik it's canon that, whilst human meat is supposedly difficult to prepare well, they managed to do it; which is one of the main reasons why Sukuna kept them around aside from the fact that they're a powerful sorcerer lol

(he most probably liked the unaltered taste by itself too (he did in my Series Canon for sure), but Uraume made it additionally enjoyable - so for Mr. I Do What I Want it was definitely a unique plus lol)

As for SIkuna eating people, hmm

Although he's pretty deeply in denial about it, he doesn't actually directly feel anything negative at the prospect

(as showed in Part 4, he actually found the little taste of Yuji's blood he got by accident ridiculously enjoyable, if in terms of Identity Issues and 'Ah Shit That's The Kid's Blood' extremely distressing as well. What a fun combination)

- it's Everything Else around it that makes him uneasy; like the fact that he Knows It's Wrong, The Kids Would Most Freaking Likely Not Like it, and just overall the Character Dissonance he feels about it all

because how the fuck can he be a protective inner marshmallow that would just like to hug the kids, and give them headpats, and heal their wounds, and just overall take care of them as best as he can 🥺

and someone that gets absolutely freaking giddy at the idea and acts of violence and bloodshed (as long as it doesn't involve Some People but especially if it involves Other Ones) at the same time y'know?

(sorry bro, you're not gonna get any less contradictory anytime soon if ever - have fun being yourself, whatever that means, lol

Complex characterisation and all that ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ)

But returning to the topic; I won't say anything about further down the timeline

(he might, he might not, who knows, probably not in a way that would upset the kids too much if anything but ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

but there is this one particular, hm, person that would fit all boxes in terms of being a mostly guiltless but still tasty snack, though not as tasty as possible, who miight be meeting him relatively soon (how??)

- and SIkuna wouldn't even need to break any promises with Yuji (oop spoiler 👀) to indeed have a spooky snack!

So, before anything as sophisticated as tempura - there may be moreso sashimi :] *HeeHee HoHo's a bit as lighting strikes in the background and I comically jump in surprise because wtf the sky's clear-????*

.