#you ever just get brought back from the dead?

[ghouldump]

Girlll did you delete your last fic? Whyyyy I was about to read it😭😭

Your Best Nightmare | Lestat de Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ being away from your companion, as both of you take on stardom, can be frustrating, but it is very rewarding to see your maker for the first time in months.

(anon asked for bi!reader w/ crossdressing lestat and if possible some nsfw content)

girl, somebody messaged me and said it was weird and i was confused like you watched a show with vampires killing people like bffr, but ig i’ll repost bc somebody else asked too 😂

The crowd seemed more lively than ever, screaming the frightening lyrics, but paid them no mind. Humans, despite having dominion over nearly every species, were quite stupid. They all had things they liked, they idolized, and in many of their eyes, it didn't take much to seem trustworthy to them. A quick photo of you holding the cheek of a beautiful mortal, and overnight, you were a national treasure — proof that vampires were not a danger.

Vampires, although people of the night, were only bound by their circumstances, and if there were others, they deserved the privilege to reveal themselves. It was cute, really, the same songs that were once deemed monstrous, alarming, and cultish, were now innovative, you were now an icon, like your lover, the vampire Lestat, you were simply adding your contribution to rock culture. However, they didn't even realize, all of them were wrong. They couldn't be more wrong about everything.

I'm your best nightmare,” you sang, as the audience joined you.

And then it happened, you were in my arms

Your lips on my throat- your hands on my, on my...

Two bodies together, the intimate sin

The pain and the pleasure, could do mortals in

How could you know, what I'm thinking of

To me lust can be, as beautiful as love

Here tonight, your pure heart and soul

Untainted passion should have no control

She asked me if I...

I told her the truth

I said "I'm sorry, it takes me, longer than you"

She smiled and blushed, and continued to grind

And promised to make me, go out of my mind

Returning her promise, she, came to a halt

Licking my lips, I, tasted her salt

Then she sat up and gasped and clutched at her breast

I thought she was coming- I'd never have guessed that

As she grew pale, as white as a flower

She collapsed to the floor and was dead in an hour

Hearing the humans singing along to the deranged song, you nearly laughed. Too foolish to grasp the very lyrics, escaping their mouths. A song about your very first hunt, alone. Delilah, the name itself brought a nostalgic tingle to your tongue.

You remember the night utterly, from the time you stumbled out of your coffin, to you crawling back in. You sat alone at the bar, The Dungeon, a frequent spot for tourists when she caught your eye. Dancing against her friend, they both laughed loudly, singing along to the music. Her skin was flawless, her makeup dark, with an incredibly flattering dress, hugging her curves beautifuly.

Just from staring alone, you almost held your throat from how thirsty you were. Standing up, you approached her, her friend nudging her, their eyes shifting to you.

"Hey," she smiled, briefly biting her lip.

"Hey," you repeated, peering into her thoughts, not a single piece was left unattainable from your view.

"Are you here alone?" she asked you, her friend whispering that she was going back to their group of friends, to give her privacy.

"I'm afraid I am," you smiled, as she moved closer, tilting her head.

"Then I'll have to keep you company"

"I'm very difficult to entertain"

"That's because you haven't met me," she giggled.

"Ah, I see, and what is the name of the woman I've waited for?" you asked her.

"Delilah"

"Very beautiful-

"Please, I was named after my grandmother," she said, smiling as you chuckled.

"I'm Y/n," you said, holding out your hand, shaking hers.

"Would you like to get out of here? Maybe have some fun at my place?" you asked, leaning closer, to glamour her.

"Yes, I'd love to," she smiled.

"Good girl, why don't you tell your friends that you're headed back to your hotel for tonight, because you're tired, and I'll meet you outside," you winked, watching as she went to the group of friends.

It wasn't much longer before you were both nude, her moans only continued to arouse your longing appetite. Her gentle kisses, and promises to rock your world, as her orgasm drew near — it only made you want to rip her to pieces more. Holding her soft hips, you felt your fangs emerging before you began to suck from her breast. She panicked for only a moment, choosing to follow along with your erotic behavior.

"I'm coming," she cried, grinding against your thigh. Her breathing hitched, feeling your cool fingers near her glistening pearl.

"You taste just as good as you look," you whispered, staring down, as you hovered over her.

"Your turn," she giggled, her eyes still shut. If only she had opened her lovely raven eyes, to see the monster in front of her. Blood dripping from your mouth, as you stared at her, seeing her for nothing more than she could ever be to you, food.

"Unfortunately, you won't get the honor, tonight, as your life is coming to an end," you said, and just as she was able to open her eyes, you lunged forward.

Draining her, you could sense her heartbeat, hear her thoughts, and feel the sensation of her nails clawing into your back. It was all euphoric, you were a monster, you could admit, and you loved every bit of the thrill, of experiencing such an occasion, with stunning humans.

As the final song came to an end, you waved, bowing at the arena of people, the music fading, as the stage lowered, giving the illusion that you were disappearing. Going backstage, you thanked your team for working so hard for the tour, before you changed clothing — and headed to your hotel. You intended to catch your flight tonight, but with the concert ending so late, you couldn't take the risk, as the sun was bound to rise in the next hour or two.

Although you felt impatient, you would have to wait another night, before you could catch the private jet to New Orleans, to him. Lestat de Lioncourt, your muse, maker, lover, and companion. He turned you nearly 40 years ago and you have been inseparable ever since.

With the both of you busy with your careers, the two of you promised that it would be fine to have flings on the side, as long as there were no feelings attached — not that you would be able to feel anything for another anyway. You had yet to meet another as passionate, as he.

As the driver stopped the car, you quickly made your way into the building, as the sunrise began to peak from behind the buildings.

"Good morning, miss Y/n," the receptionist smiled, batting her eyelashes as you looked her way.

"Morning," you winked, before entering the elevator.

Going to your floor, you stopped for a moment, seeing Amanda, your assistant, standing at the door, it only meant one thing, groupies. Your team sometimes selected women and men, bringing them to your room. Your publicists emphasized how important it was for you to not be seen hunting, and you were simply playing your role.

"Thank you, Amanda, why don't you go get some rest?" you spoke, grinning as she jumped, glancing over at you.

"Yes, of course, sleep well," she nodded, practically running to the elevator.

Opening the door, you squinted, trying to allow your eyes to adjust to the dim room. The blackout curtains blocking any potential sunshine. Hearing the sound of the faucet running in the bathroom, you entered and shut the door. Taking note that you couldn't hear any thoughts, you looked around for a handbag or wallet, to identify the person, just as the bathroom door opened.

Gasping, you couldn't contain the large smile, as Lestat exited the bathroom, he wore a black bralette, cheeky knickers, and a silk robe on top. His blond waves looked even more luscious than usual, with a light pink gloss on his lips and blush.

"You came to California, to see me," you said, trying to swallow the emotions bubbling inside. You felt so elated, seeing him for the first time in months.

"I couldn't go another day away from you, chéri," he confessed, as you moved closer, embracing him. Mumbling a low, "baby", while he held you near, placing a kiss on your lips.

"You look so pretty," you giggled, as he pecked your lips again.

"I had to look my best to get your attention, I've seen the woman that come to your shows," he smirked.

"They don't stand a chance, next to you," you said, as he stared longingly into your eyes.

"I missed you," he finally said.

"I missed you too," you said, as those words were all he needed to hear before his lips were connected to yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

Biting down on your lip, he groaned, lifting you in the air, walking over to the bed, before breaking the kiss — as you peeled each article of clothing away, your eyes set on his piercing blue ones.

"This is so cute," your eyes twinkle, as he removed the robe, the obvious bulge in his panties catching your attention. Sitting on the bed, in front of him, he went to his knees. Kissing your lips, he moved down your neck, holding your waist, as you arched your back. "Love," you moaned, feeling his breath against your skin, causing goosebumps.

Laying back, you bit your lip, as his mouth traveled south. Kissing your glistening pearl, before hungrily consuming her. Your fingers found their way to his blonde tresses. Your eyes could hardly stay open, as his tongue repeatedly lapped over your cunt.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you moaned loudly, "I'm so close," you said, the orgasm escaping, as his long fingers moved up to your breast - caressing them.

"I wasn't sure how much longer I could take, being away from you," he spoke, as you agreed, pulling him close to kiss his lips, smearing the lip gloss on his pale skin.

"Take this off, please," You tugged on the bralette, you needed every part of him, bare.

As he stood, you grinned, exploring his toned body. He kept his usual sultry eye contact, as he slowly removed the lingerie, purposely teasing you.

"Lestat," you whined, giggling.

"Patience is a virtue, ma chéri," he smirked, as he approached you, bound to another night of sharing his endless love with you.

"Fuck Patience, I need you now," you groaned, making him laugh.

"Anything for you"

in the original post, i explained that all of the upcoming posts won't be released in a particular order, since i’m working on everything in my drafts.

[vicsy]

Many people won't care about me writing about this but I must get this out.

I got into Formula 1 at the beginning of 2022. It coincided with the world as I knew it collapsing in on itself with record speed. I don't hide the fact that I am from Russia and I know most people would know what my country started in February that year. You watch your entire life plans getting crumpled like a piece of paper and thrown into the trash; the borders closing, companies leaving, the world turning back on you for the sole fact that you were born here. You watch yourself slowly inched into isolation.

And at the worst time in my entire life I managed to find this little gateway. It started with Lando, funnily enough, because I didn't know my way around the F1, so I picked someone with a Star Wars name. Irony is not dead. It wasn't long before I imprinted on Daniel like a fucking baby duckling.

Even through the mess that was his career in 2022, he brought me (and many others) so much joy. I was slowly navigating the world of racing and trying to make sense of it all. Daniel was there. The narratives were there. He is the reason I discovered the fanbase, the fandom, the reason I met so many people I get to call lifelong friends now. And I can't imagine my life without them anymore. At my lowest I found a community that made my life bearable and fun and bright; a community that made me want to create and write again. Daniel was the reason I broadened my horizons and became a Fernando fan, Lance fan, a fan of so many other drivers that I still have the joy to support even when Daniel won't be there, behind the wheel or barking in the garage.

You'd think that it's stupid to hang your entire life balance on one millionaire who drives cars in circles and won't ever know you exist. But to me Daniel became that balance when everything else was just plainly uncertain. I watched the news of the world events unfolding and that pit of dread was never ending. It was like having a rug pulled from underneath your feet every single day. Those first 2-3 months of the war felt the worst. Not like it changed but you get the idea. But I still had this little F1 world and this smiling weirdo to brighten my day.

The friends that I found, the happiness that I managed to scrap in the times of great uncertainty, all of this was tied to Daniel. He was, in a way, a lifeline that led me to a hobby that I've grown to love. It hurt me back, multiple times, but it also saved my sanity on so many occasions.

I know, in my heart, Daniel will bounce back. Who knows, maybe he'll be back one day, in 2026, or doing something related to F1. Or maybe he chooses to stay away forever. Me, personally? Of course I'd like to see him race. And I hate change. The change of it all hurts as much as the fact that Daniel never got a proper goodbye. I do hope he knows, somehow, how much he is loved.

And I'll forever cherish the fact that I got to see him live in Baku, that I stood in front row an listened to him explain his terrible pizza choices. I heard him say well done, Baku first hand. I'm glad I got there in time to get a signed card. I'll always have the warmest feelings towards Daniel. If not for him, my life would be emptier today.

oh, and, never forget – fuck 'em all.

[chidorrrita]

・❥・I’m here with you (it hasn’t been so easy being lonely)

: ̗̀➛ l lawliet x gn!reader

: ̗̀➛ cw: angst, allusion to sex, reader is referred to having a "plush" body like once

: ̗̀➛ wc: 800+

: ̗̀➛ author's note: holy crap it's been 3 months since I've posted anything... sorry about that. anyyways enjoy this little one shot about L.

reader is a civilian and doesn't know L's name

In the bright light of early dawn, you run your hands over an empty spot on the bed warmed only by the forgiving sun. He’s left already. It wasn’t uncommon for him to leave without saying goodbye. He told you earlier on that he hated goodbyes, so you both agreed to this arrangement. You weren’t so keen on the idea when he first brought it up, but you hated the idea of him not being with you at all more. He would return in a few weeks time and you would quickly wipe away your tears and he would ignore the streaks left on your cheeks as he greeted you. But the first day was always the hardest. Just when you were getting used to him being around, making enough breakfast for two and waiting to wash his white shirts, he would leave. 

You gingerly slip out of bed and slumber towards the kitchen. Taking out a pan and two eggs, you busy yourself with making breakfast but you can’t concentrate. Your mind slips away to him. What was he doing that he couldn’t share with you? What was so dangerous about his job that even one little slip up on his part would cause him to disappear for months? In the dead of night, when all the buildings quiet down and their people sink into slumber, he would whisper prayers against your skin. Though you never understood a word he said, between your half lucid mind and his soothing Russian tongue, you could sense a tone of reverence in his voice, hands squeezing your waist and head bowed between your chest. 

The smell of burning eggs invades your nostrils. You let out a heavy sigh and begin to scrap away at the charred bits of yolk. 

Weeks pass with no call, not that he ever calls, and soon long nights turn to long days as trees begin to straighten up and cicadas poke their heads out of the ground so they can dance with the rise of the sun. Kids run around with ice cream dripping down into their chubby hands and on the concrete where little ants graciously scoop up the liquid gold and offer it to their queen. Shirts stick to backs and eyes squint in submission to Helios galloping through the sky. You’ve never been a fan of summer, but he always made it better. Waking up early in the morning to get berries at the farmers market, and buying every sugary dessert at the carnival and getting on the chair swing ride. 

It was so peaceful up there. People shrunk to the size of ants, scurrying across in search of food, the bright lights blurred together forming a constellation below just for you. Your feet swayed in the wind, the light breeze caressed your cheeks providing a much needed respite from the stuffy carnival floor. His hand inched closer to yours, long fingers ghosted against yours asking for permission, and you opened your palm welcoming him home. He didn’t say anything, being a man of few words, but he squeezed your hand in thanks. Thanks that you have stayed with him for this very moment to happen. His messy hair got pushed back, better revealing his onyx eyes holding only love and adoration for you. 

That night he told you he loved you. Amongst the shrills of children and the rumble of wobbly roller coasters, he proclaimed his devotion against the back of your hand held to his chapped lips. You walked home together, smiling and giggling like fools, with bellies full of sweets. 

You stumbled through your bedroom door, clammy hands hastily ripped off clothes eager to feel skin against skin hot to the touch. All efforts of looking suave on both parties flew out the window as a carnal need took over. Teeth clashed against each other in a messy kiss as your hand carded through his hair and then settled on the nap of his neck. His hand held your cheek as the other pushed the small of your back against him. He curled over you, protected you, devoured you. The need for oxygen overtook, and you parted as a string of spit connected his lips to yours. He stayed close, his forehead bumped against yours, and let out a shaky pant as you took a deep breath, in tandem with each other pushing and pulling. You fell against the bed, yanked him with you, and felt him smile against your skin. 

In the afterglow, wrapped up in fuzzy blankets and the cool moonlight, he said, “this is the happiest I think I’ve ever been.” You held him tighter, kissed the crown of his head, and drifted off to sleep. 

He will return soon enough. He has too. And then you’ll go to the carnival and eat funnel cake until you’re sick and share syrupy kisses on the ferris wheel and laugh and smile. For now you wait, ignore the dreaded emptiness in your chest, and wait. He will return. And you’ll wipe your tears. 

[minus-plus-zer0]

Bakugou Plays Stardew Valley

| Masterlist | The Bakusquad Gaming Group Masterlist | | Previous | Next (TBD) | ♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Gamer!Bakugou x Gamer!Reader ♡ Tags: Crossover (MHA x multiple franchises), gaming AU, Quirkless AU, aged up (Any gaming crossover chapters will be skippable if you don't recognize the franchise. These chapters are one-shots that can be viewed without reading the other chapters.)

Stardew Valley didn't appear on Bakugou's radar until you convinced him to give it a shot (at least for your sake).

You two would work as farmers on Bakugou's rundown field, trying to restore the land as per his in-game dead grandpa's wishes. Both you and Bakugou designed your farmers' appearances after your real life selves and you found it so cute to see Bakugou in his true pixel form.

At first, you two walked everywhere together at your unbelievably slow pace. While Bakugou went around buying seeds and foraging, all you wanted to do was greet all the cold, hostile villagers. For obvious reasons, Bakugou hated that idea.

"But we need to get started on romancing someone," you said, following Bakugou across town. "We might as well pick a villager we wanna marry for the sake of pleasing your dead grandfather's wishes."

Bakugou's farmer stopped to glare yours down in-game. "I don’t want any of those stinking villagers on our farm! Don’t go marrying any of them. I don’t care about their heart events, I don’t care about their birthdays, and I don’t give a fuck about not having enough hearts for the Flower Dance. I’m not here to make friends.”

Bakugou started heading back towards the farm again, and you followed.

“But we need to get married for a good endgame rating!” you protested.

“Well… I got you, don’t I?”

You were too frantically aware that you both were on a livestream, where everyone could see your reaction to his comment.

“Bakugou," you cried, "you can't just propose to me on stream like that!”

"It's a VIDEO GAME! And I'm not proposing to you yet." His character faced yours. "Wait until I get you a ring. Then you'll see."

"Bakugou!"

You couldn't believe what you saw on his facecam. Bakugou was grinning like a madman. This would only fan the flames of the shipping fanbase that was already brewing in your fanbases, but right now you were more concerned with his reaction than theirs.

During a stream break sometime later, Bakugou pulled you aside for a phone call to talk about what happened.

"You okay with that?" Bakugou asked. "With the marriage shit? We didn't discuss this shit enough beforehand, but I don't wanna pressure you into doing anything you don't wanna do."

You were so relieved he asked first. Truth be told, you wanted to broach the topic yourself but felt nervous.

"...I'm okay if it's you," you admitted, thankful he couldn't see your embarrassed face over the phone. "I mean, I really don't wanna get a worse endgame rating if we don't marry someone, so it only makes sense that we marry each other... Plus, I think it'd be fun to roleplay as a married couple for the sake of the stream. I wanna see all your heart events!"

"You have to woo me first for that," he said, and you could just imagine his eager grin on the other side of the phone call. "But if ya ever change your mind and feel uncomfortable, fucking hit me in-game or something and I'll stop."

"I'm not doing that!"

From then on, you and Bakugou fell into a fine routine, slowly feeling out your in-game relationship. Bakugou decided to gradually raise your affection levels like he would with any NPC, gifting you items twice a week. Sometimes he found the perfect gift and he'd have to chase you down just to give it to you while you went about your daily tasks. Other times, he brought you gifts you didn't need and cursed himself for getting it in the first place. You accepted it out of politeness and thanked him, but for Bakugou it wasn't enough.

"You're out of space?!" Bakugou said, his farmer holding a flower above his head smack dab in the middle of town. "Dammit!"

"Oh c'mon, it's okay." Your pink farmer sidled up to his. "I still appreciate the thought!"

"No, no, don't pity me. I'll do better. I'm gonna get you something that'll knock your goddamn socks off. Something that won't just sit in storage all day."

He ended up interrogating you for your 'loved gifts', which included an item rarely found early into the game, a pink cake. Although you warned him it would be hard to find and hard to justify buying even if he did find it, Bakugou still took to the challenge out of sheer spite at being told he couldn't. By dumb luck, he was able to buy it at the saloon sometime later and handed it to you, having saved up the money for it. For him, it was all worth it just to see the joy and shock on your face. His eyes were glued to your face cam visible on his monitor while you squealed out of happiness.

You also gave Bakugou many gifts in return to 'woo' him, even though you had no idea what items he liked. At first you started off with romantic flowers, then you progressed to useful minerals, and finally you just gave him stones to see if he'd still take it. He did, and he thanked you, and then he used your slingshot to shoot the stones at Alex, the town jock who flirted with you last week. Bakugou just wasn't the forgiving type.

Although you were often forced to split up to get everything done, you and Bakugou still made time to do things together in-game. For example, you only entered the mines if Bakugou was there to defend you from the terrifying monsters that lurked beneath. And you attended every festival together, with Bakugou accompanying you as a scary guard dog while you chatted up all the villagers. Every time you two shared quality time together, you called it a heart event. Bakugou didn't reject the idea, but he did call you a sap.

Eventually, you two started accumulating a number of furniture items and you both thought about upgrading your houses. But you couldn't really financially justify the cost.

"Since we're already planning on getting married, why don't we just live together now?" you asked, while visiting his house first thing in the morning. "It'd be easier to only have to upgrade one house instead of two."

"That much was obvious," Bakugou said. "But if you wanna do it sooner than later, I sure as hell won't stop ya."

"...What about the beds?" you asked, while checking out his home. "With all our stuff, there's only room for one..."

"It's just pixels! It's fine if we sleep in the same area. It's only practical!"

"Yeah... practical!"

Or so you told yourself.

And so, you two lived in the same farmhouse together and woke up to each other every single day with much, much awkwardness. Your chat had a riot the first time it happened, with some of them saying their fanfics had finally come true.

"Fanfics?" you asked, your eyes squinting at the chat displayed on one of your monitors. "What fanfics?"

"I don't even wanna fucking know." Bakugou sweated a little.

But despite the awkwardness, Bakugou never asked you to leave. Sometimes he even told you to rush home so you'd sleep together instead of seeing you pass out at 2 AM.

"We need you at full energy tomorrow, so you have to go to bed!" Bakugou said, while your slow pink farmer speedwalked back home. "From now on, you can't just pass out anywhere you want! We have to sleep together!"

"Phrasing, Bakugou, phrasing!"

Now Bakugou was hellbent on making sure you two woke up to each other every morning as per your decided routine. He kept justifying it by saying that sleeping at appropriate times was necessary for keeping your stamina levels high for the following morning, but the chat refused to believe it.

"he wants to wake up to you?" a chat member remarked. "for every day of his life???"

"You really are a clingy guy, huh?" Your cute farmer faced his in your shared bed.

"I wouldn't have to fucking cling if you'd just stay put," Bakugou pouted.

Eventually, you started unlocking more and more heart events with other villagers and this pissed Bakugou off. The chat accused the villagers of being "homewreckers" for flirting with you once they grew closer to you. For example, one boy named Sebastian offered to take you on a private ride on his motorcycle and Bakugou was livid.

"This nerd needs to back the fuck off," Bakugou said, standing right beside you outside Sebastian's room.

"He's just a friend, Bakugou!"

"HE'S NOT INVITED TO OUR WEDDING!"

The chat encouraged you to encounter more heart events with the other villagers, just to see each and every one of them try and steal you from Bakugou. They loved watching him grow jealous, because they thought it was further proof of his love. One girl named Abigail sent you a letter inviting you to her place late at night and Bakugou strictly forbid you from going. The chat had to spoil the fact that the event wouldn't include anything risqué for him to even accept this near declaration of war.

Fortunately, you and Bakugou soon got married in-game. Bakugou hoped that the villagers would now back off from flirting, but you knew their old lines would still be hardcoded into the game. Your chat members celebrated with many donations and congratulations, to which you and Bakugou gave each other the side-eye.

This romance was still fictional, right?

You both pretended to do all these romantic in-game activities to entertain the chat as well to get a better endgame rating, but deep down you wished you could have a little bit of this in real life!

After you two "finished" the game and had your farm positively rated by Bakugou's grandpa, the Stardew streams finally came to a close. You missed the game already and you could've continued, but you both felt this was a good enough ending to your file.

The weekend after, you hoped to hang out again with Bakugou outside of streaming, and you still couldn't get Stardew out of your mind. Your fanbases kept posting fanart of your Stardew playthrough, which helped keep all the memories fresh. Many of their fanarts depicted you two together side-by-side, and you loved looking at Bakugou in all their different art styles. You'd have to talk to him about the shipping though, at some point... It was really getting out of hand.

Bakugou was also still thinking about your past streams, though he had something different in mind when you showed up to his apartment one day.

"Bakugou! Where are we going?"

Bakugou covered your eyes from behind and led you a short ways forward. You must've been around his kitchen by this point.

"Hold on," Bakugou said. He turned you to face a specific direction. "I'm gonna remove my hands."

"Bakugou, what--"

There was a pink cake waiting for you on his kitchen counter, looking exactly like its in-game counterpart.

"Since we're staying at my apartment today, thought you'd get hungry at some point." Bakugou looked smug as hell. "Ya like it?"

"Like it? I love it! This is so, so, so cool!" You threw your arms around him and squeezed, and his arms wrapped around you in turn.

"Learned from you, actually," he said. "Like those videos where you bake fictional food."

You released him from your hug and bumped your hip against his. "Almost forgot you were my biggest fan!"

"Quit talking and eat. I didn't ask for any silly little comments!"

"Well you're getting some!"

You and Bakugou spent the rest of the day hanging around his living room, eating his food, and watching other Bakusquad member's streams of Stardew Valley on his laptop. All of them ended up romancing NPCs, and your streams were the only ones where someone married another player. You suddenly became far too aware of how close Bakugou was to you on the couch. While watching Kaminari's in-game wedding, you caught each other's eyes and quickly looked away. You wanted to discuss this, but you didn't know how.

"Do you regret it?" You wore a teasing small smile. "You regret being married to me?"

"Hell no," Bakugou said, his face somewhat red. "You better not be asking 'cause you regret it now yourself."

"Of course not! I was only wondering." You mindlessly played with your food. "After all, you've probably seen what the chat members are saying about our 'relationship'..."

"Hey. Look at me."

You looked up from your food to see Bakugou grinning once again.

"Let them think whatever they want."

(This came out way longer than intended, I don't know if all the one shots are gonna be this long ;-;)

[cinnaleaf]

ESSENCE OF US - CH 7: ALL THAT GLITTERS...* [FT. YAPPING TRENT]

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | READ CH 6 | MASTERLIST | READ CH 8 [soon]

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: ANGST, SMUT, praise kink, power shift, begging, unprotected sex, language, implied anxiety genre: angst, fluff, slow(ish) burn romance wc: ~7.2k

The moment your voice cracked through the phone, Trent exhaled like he was holding his breath all night.

“Trent????” you asked again, wiping your eyes and sitting up against the headboard. You felt comfortable in your safe space, but the tension from Trent’s silence had you more awake than you wanted to be at such an early hour.

“Y/N” he said shakily. “You answered.”

You frowned, still half awake. “Mhm..why wouldn’t I?”

“Been calling you for hours...I thought you were pissed,” he admitted, you could feel the guilt laced in his voice. Your phone had been dead the majority of the night after the interview; mainly due to the onslaught of notifications. “Oh, baby no. I wasn’t ignoring you. My phone died from all the madness and I just..fell asleep.” You yawned, tugging your blanket up towards you. “You were worrying all night?”

“Yeah..I thought I messed up everything,” he murmured, sounding unsure of himself. He was clearly torturing himself all night, thinking you were angry at him, and it pulled at your heartstrings. “I mean..it wasn’t ideal that's for sure,” you admitted. “But it’s not the end of the world Trent. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Still..” he pressed in a heavier tone. “I promised you I would keep this shit away from you and instead I brought you right into it. Everyone knows now.” You sighed, still trying to wake yourself up. He was expecting an angry outburst from you based on the texts you sent, but you weren’t that mad at him, just extremely exhausted.

“You didn’t drag me into anything. It was bound to happen eventually and I knew that when we got together. It’s just...a part of your world I have to get used to, I guess,” the weight of your words sunk in as you said them out loud. There was silence on the other end that stretched for a ridiculously long time. Trent felt uneasy about something, and you could tell he was holding back.

“So...you’re not mad?” he finally asked, sounding so fragile. 

You sighed, wishing you could pull him into a hug from your end of the phone. “Well..I’m not gonna lie and say I’m happy about it.. but I’m not angry either. Just tired.”

“You sure?”

“I promise. It’s just....” you trailed off, trying to gather the thoughts from your sleep induced haze. “It’s been a really long day.”

That caught his attention immediately. He loved to yap. If there was an open ended question that would result in a long conversation, he was definitely going to ask; partially to hear your voice, and the other just to yap.

“What happened? Tell me.”

You let out a long sigh, rubbing your temples as the events from the day rushed back to you. “Love Notes was insane today. The phone wouldn’t stop ringing after your interview. People were coming in asking about the aftershave like I had it already. And to top it off, some kids came in and broke one of the fragrances. It gave me the worst fucking headache ever.” You didn’t feel the need to mention the conversation with your parents or the anxiety attack, it felt too heavy for the moment, and you weren't sure if you were ready to talk about it either.

“Shit. I didn’t know it got that bad. I didn’t know the logo was showing until I read your texts on the plane. How are you feeling? You should drink more water,” he rambled, sounding completely spent but still holding on for the yap session.

“I feel better... but Camille keeps bringing up hiring an assistant and..I just don’t know.”

Trent’s voice perked up slightly, “Well..baby she’s not wrong.” You rolled your eyes, feeling annoyed that he was suggesting it as well. “Trent. Don’t start. I’ve heard enough from everyone already.”

“I’m just saying—”

“I know,” you interrupted, sounding more sharp than you intended to. “Everyone thinks I can’t handle it. I don’t get why no one believes I can do this on my own? It’s my business.” Trent was silent for a while, and you felt bad for snapping, but the frustration was building all day. “Y/N...nobody thinks you can’t handle it,” he said gently. “But you’re only one person. You can’t do everything by yourself.”

“Yeah, but it feels like no one believes in me,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “What if I can handle it? Like, what if I don’t need an assistant? It’s fine. I’m fine.” Trent sighed, his voice softer. “No one doubts you’re not good at what you do, Y/N. Everyone has their limit. Tyler helps me out all the time. You should think about it, it’s not a bad idea.”  You sighed, feeling a little deflected. “Okayyyy. I’ll think about it.” He laughed at your annoyance with him, a brief silence following before he spoke again in a softer voice. “I haven’t slept all night and it’s almost 5AM.”

“Trent, what the hell? You’ve been up this entire time?” 

“Yeah,” he said, voice wound with exhaustion. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Aww. Baby, you have to go to sleep. Please..for me?” you murmured, dropping your voice.

“I will. Just wanted to hear your voice…”

“You heard it..now go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” you said gently, knowing he would want to yap even more.

He let out a tired chuckle but you could hear the weariness in his voice. “I wish you were here...next to me.” His sleepy admission made you smile. “I wish I was too. But pleaseee go to bed. Just call me when you wake up.”

He hummed in response, still talking but whispering. “Mm, yeah. Sleep. Just wanna be with you. Always…”  

You giggled softly, “We have plenty of time for that later. Just sleep.” He continued talking, slurring his words as he slowly lost his grip on consciousness. “When the season is over...we should go on holiday. Just us.” You perked up at the idea, remembering you were thinking the same thing earlier. “Oh, yeah? Where to?”

“Don’t care as long as I’m with you...somewhere warm,” he mumbled. “Santorini...or south of France.” You smiled hearing him planning already, despite being half awake. “What about the Maldives? Oh! Oh!! Or maybe St. Barths?”

“Hawaii,” he added sleepily, his words getting slower and slower. “11 hour time difference though, we’d be so jet lagged.”

“Yeah, but it would be worth it just to be with you on the beach somewhere. I heard Ka'anapali is nice.”

“Yeah…just..us” his voice was fading fast, sleep pulling him into a dream about your future holiday. “I love you.” 

You froze immediately.

You could’ve sworn you heard him say 'I love you', but you thought for sure you misheard him. It was late and you were both exhausted. There’s no way he said that.

Right?

No no no, he didn’t. You were probably mishearing him. He definitely said “I’d love to.” That made a lot more sense given the conversation. You heard it wrong. You were sure you did.

“Trent?” you whispered, but the sound of soft breathing let you know he was already fast asleep. You leaned back against the pillows, trying to convince yourself you definitely didn’t hear him say those words for the first time while he was half asleep. He was exhausted, you were tired...it obviously had to be ‘I’d love to.’ You pressed the button to end the call, dropping your phone next to you as you pulled the blankets around yourself. As you drifted back to sleep, you convinced yourself whatever you heard was a figment of your overworked, sleepy imagination.

Maybe you did need an assistant.

A few hours later you woke up, groaning into your pillow as the memory of last night came up in your mind:

‘I love you’ or ‘I’d love to’ ?

It felt like a dream, but it wasn’t. You sat up, trying to shake the drowsiness off. There’s absolutely no way he said that half asleep, over the phone. You were delusional and exhausted from everything going on. Clearly, you were running yourself into the ground, and now you were hearing things. Camille was right.

You grabbed your phone to scroll through the endless notifications from yesterday. There were texts and calls from people you barely knew, all asking for 'The Trent Scent'. It felt like the whole world was on your ass about it. You never planned for anyone to know it existed, yet suddenly it was all anyone cared about. You wanted to crawl back in bed and rot for a week but you knew better, you had things to handle. Which now included possibly finding an assistant. You hated admitting Camille and Trent were right, but it was becoming too much. You dragged yourself out of bed and tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen, where Camille was making some weird health nut smoothie. She glanced up when she saw you, stifling a laugh. “Morning, babe. You look terrible.” You rolled your eyes, leaning against the counter. “I feel like shit. Didn’t sleep great.”

“Rough night?” Camille asked, turning off the blender. She poured two glasses and handed you one. “Try this. It’ll make you feel better. Trust.” 

You eyed the glass skeptically. “What’s in it? Why is it three different colors?”

“Strawberries, dates, collagen powder, sea moss, avocado..some other stuff.” Camille grinned, sipping from her glass. “It’s really good, I swear.” You reluctantly took a sip, expecting to frown immediately–but it actually wasn’t bad. It tasted like dessert for breakfast, but was somehow healthy. “Okay.. this is so good,” you muttered between sips. 

“See?” Camilled said, smirking. “I tried it at Erewhon when I went to LA. My skin is glowing. It’s the collagen.” You couldn’t deny it tasted amazing, but you silently laughed at Camille finding a way to bring Erewhon across continents. Your mind faltered back to the conversation you had with Trent a couple of hours ago and you groaned.

“Camille…I think I’m losing it. Actually going mad. Legitimately.” 

Camille snorted, almost choking on her smoothie. “You’re so dramatic Y/N. What’s up?” You sighed, placing a hand on your hip. “I was on the phone last night with Trent, and I swear I heard him say ‘I love you.’”

“Okay… andddd?”

“I don’t know!” you blurted, throwing your hands up dramatically. “He was half asleep, I was knackered..I had to mishear him. I think he said ‘I’d love to’ because we were talking about going on holiday. He had to or else it doesn’t make sense, right?” Camille gave you an amused look. “A bit random to say it mid-snooze, yeah. But..nothing about the two of you is ordinary in the slightest. Stranger things have happened. What did you say back?”

“Obviously nothing!! Hung up and convinced myself I imagined it. I was so tired.”

Camille laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, well, he’s definitely in deep..so who knows. Maybe you didn’t imagine it, but what’s the big deal? You love him, no?” You bit your lip, contemplating. “It’s just..ugh. I don’t know. Everything is moving so chaotically..” Camille studied you for a moment, like she knew something you hadn’t figured out just yet; she would wait until you figured it out yourself. “That brings me to my next point...you need help at the boutique. Especially now.”

You groaned again, “I get it!! Why does everyone keep reminding me?”

“Because it's true! You’re doing the work of like five different people. And girl, I love you, but I’m exhausted just watching you move like this.”

“I’m fine!” you whined, though the fatigue in your face told a different story. “It’s just a little rough patch. No biggie.” Camille gave you a pointed look. “You fell asleep before I could even pour any wine last night. That’s not a rough patch babes, you’re running on fumes. I can’t believe you did me like that.” You scowled at her, not wanting to admit she had a point. “I’m just scared…I put my whole life into that place.”

“I get why you’re protective over it. But an assistant could help out a lot. Plus, you’ll be able to spend more time with Trent.” You sighed, giving in a little. Having more free time did sound nice, regardless of Trent being included in the perk. “Fine. But I’m picking who gets hired.”

“Fucking finally,” Camille laughed. “But I’m still helping.” You dropped your jaw in disbelief, partially smirking. “No help from your dad, though.”

“Our dad, you mean. But yeah, I promise. Cross my heart and all that,” Camille said, crossing her fingers.

You smiled, reaching for your laptop, eager to get it over with. “Let’s just get this sorted before I regret it,” you muttered while logging in to draft the job posting. Camille grabbed her phone, glancing over your shoulder as she watched you type. “The charity gala is coming up in a couple weeks..do you know what you and Trent are wearing yet?” You gasped, fingers pausing over the keyboard. “I forgot all about that..oh my days. I really am losing it.” 

“Y/N, how could you forget?! I can’t wait to see what everyone wears.” You let out a small laugh, trying to focus on the job posting. “Clearly I’ve been busy. I just hope it isn’t as chaotic as last time. I think I reached my limit for that this year already.” Camille smirked, “Speaking of chaos..remind me to take Jude’s phone the moment he grabs a drink. We don’t need another Paris situation.” You bursted out laughing, “A little too late for that, I think. I’m actually tired of tiptoeing around..people know anyway.” 

“Oooh, thinking about an official pop out?” Camille asked, curiously.

“Absolutely not. But I just don’t see the point anymore. Maybe people will leave me alone if I just give them what they want.” The gears started turning in your head as soon as the words left your lips. If people were going to keep hounding you about Rêveur, maybe you could do something meaningful with it. “...What if I released a limited batch of Rêveur for the gala? And all proceeds go to charity?” Camille smiled excitedly, clasping her hands together. “Y/N, you’re a genius!”

“I’ll have to talk to Trent first, though…it’s his.” 

Camille waved her hands dismissively, sucking her teeth, “Please. He’ll be all for it. He was waving the bottle around on camera like he was paid billions. I’ve never seen that man advertise anything with that much excitement.” You nodded as the idea swirled around in your mind, just as you hit ‘publish’ on the job posting. “Yeah..I’ll talk to him.”

A few days later, you stepped into a restaurant, your heels clanked against the marble floor as Trent’s hand found your lower back to guide you inside. The restaurant had an intimate feel; the lighting was low, with a soft glow from the candles on the tables. From the moment you walked in, eyes were on the two of you. Trent had on an all white fit, crisp lines tailored his shirt and trousers; it looked gorgeous against his brown skin; he was also wearing an Audemars Piguet watch, the scent of Rêveur clinging to his skin. You were wearing a dress that hugged every curve just right, the fabric shimmering ever so slightly. Your heels caught in the light, adding a few extra inches to make your legs look longer. Your perfume was a soft, warm scent of amber and vanilla, which paired perfectly with his aftershave.

“You look incredible, Y/N. And you smell so damn good,” Trent whispered in your ear. He gently spun you around, taking in the full view as his eyes ran over your body, lingering his gaze on the way your skin was glowing under the dim lighting. “So fucking beautiful baby.”

You bit your lip, feeling your confidence soar from his praise. “Thanks.. but you’re kinda eating me up with that watch,” you teased, eyeing how he looked in the crisp shirt that clung to his body just right. “Nah..I wore this for you ‘cause it has the moon on it. Reminds me of my girl,” he winked, kissing you softly on the lips. You could feel heat surging within you, but you played it off and headed to a table that was tucked away in a private area with the perfect view of the city. While you were eating dinner, Trent couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was staring at you more than he was eating, complimenting you every few minutes. “You’re so beautiful. So perfect. I’m lucky as hell.” You giggled, picking up your wine glass before taking a sip. “I think you said that like ten times tonight.” “And I’ll say it for an eleventh time..you’re so beautiful, baby. I mean it every time. You’re stunning.” You could see his eyes dropping to your chest before meeting your gaze again with a smirk. You and Trent hadn’t really seen each other much the past few weeks due to your schedules, but made a plan to have a date night after the interview fiasco. He was definitely upping the ante; everything felt so deeply intimate and sensual. Trent leaned back in his chair, eyes still transfixed on you. You thought back to the phone call the two of you had a couple of days ago when you thought you heard him say ‘I love you’. He didn’t say anything else since then, so it was clear you more than likely heard him wrong, but still.. you wondered. Now wasn’t the time though, you didn’t want to make anything awkward. He was sitting across from you looking like a dream, and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin the mood. Trent’s thumb rubbed soothing circles on the back of your hand, his eyes still hypnotised by your beauty. You both knew where the night was heading, but teasing him was much more fun.

“So..for the gala” you began, trailing your fingers around the rim of the wine glass with your other hand, his eyes watching every movement. “I was thinking we could do a release of Rêveur and just give the proceeds to charity. What do you think?” You were slowly rubbing your leg against his under the table. Trent’s eyes widened when your heels grazed his ankle. “Yeah..that’s a..uhh..erm..really good idea. Let’s do it.” He could barely get the words out, he was completely flustered. You smiled innocently, letting the strap of your dress slip from your shoulder. “Yeah? Everyone keeps begging for it sooo..let’s give the people what they want..” you paused, sliding your heel off and pressing your foot directly into his lap. You could feel his dick twitch underneath you, “may as well make it worthwhile.” His entire body stiffened and his hand slid down to grab your calf, his fingers circling lazy on your glowing skin. He was trying to make you beg for him, but you were determined to have the upper hand tonight, for now anyway.

“Baby...c’mon. You’re not even playing fair right now” he muttered in a hoarse voice.

“What? I’m just talking about the gala…” you bantered, giving him a sultry look as you pressed your foot against his hard on. You could feel his body shudder against the pressure, his cock twitching even more. “Why are you so distracted, babe?” He squeezed your leg tighter, letting out a shaky breath. “Y/N...we need to leave. Right now.” You grinned, pushing him further. “But we haven’t finished finalizing plans yet..” You applied more pressure, watching him suck in a breath. “We can’t leave out all the details Trent.”

“Baby, please,” he whispered. His hand was trembling as he stroked the skin below the hem of your dress. He was trying so hard to keep it together, but alas, you wanted to push him farther one more time. “We need to get out of here before I lose my mind in front of all these people.” You laughed, leaning forward to stand up. “Fine..but you need to help me first.” He gave you a confused look until you lifted your leg back on his lap. “Put my heel back on, pretty please?” you said innocently, yet the look you were giving him was anything but. He swallowed hard as his gaze traveled up your leg. If there wasn’t anyone else in the restaurant, he probably would’ve bent you over the table right then. Your dress slid just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the lace thong you were wearing, and it nearly did him in. His hands were shaking as he slid the heel back on your foot. He placed a kiss on your ankle, muttering something about how you were going to pay for it later. You grinned, standing up straighter to smooth your dress out. “What was that babe? Did you say something?” He shook his head, standing up quickly and taking your hand in his. “Let’s go Y/N. Now.”

As soon as Trent unlocked the door you barely had a chance to step inside before his hands were all over you. “You’re a fucking tease,” he growled. He lifted you up, flinging you over his shoulder. “Trent! Put me down!!” you squealed, lightly hitting his back. “Be quiet” he ordered, smacking your ass. The sting of it sent a thrill straight between your legs. “I’m gonna give you something to really scream about.” You made a mental note to tease him more often, this was hot. He was a man on a mission as he carried you up the stairs, you were getting wetter by the second. Once he finally tossed you on the bed, you were pretty sure your thong was soaked. “You were so bad tonight.” he said, sliding his hands down your body to grab the hem of your dress. “Rubbing your foot against me under the table like that..trying to make me lose my mind in front of everybody.” You bit your lip feeling him tug at your dress. You heard the sound of fabric ripping and you gasped. “Wh–”

“I’ll buy another one,” he interrupted, leaving you in nothing but the thong. You were about to say something sassy until his fingers hooked your thong and you heard another rip echo in the room. You were already arching against his hands as his eyes drank you in. “I’m in charge now” His fingers found your clit immediately, rubbing circles that had you bucking your hips. “Wanna be a good girl for me now, yeah?” You were a moaning mess already, head falling against the pillows trying to catch your breath. “Yes, yesss,” you pant, already close from how pent up you were. This was the first time the two of you were having sex in weeks, and your body was aching for him. He pinched one of your nipples between his fingers with his other hand, as his fingers sped up on your clit.

“T-Trent, baby.. I’m so close.”

“No,” he huffs, pulling his hand away and leaving you on the verge of sobbing. “Not until I tell you to.” Your breath hitched and you nodded quickly, spreading your legs wider for him. He wasted no time dipping his fingers back inside you, groaning from how wet you were. His thumb encircled your clit again, rubbing teasing circles to set you off. “Look at you, Y/N. Such a good girl.” You moaned loudly, rocking against his hand. “Mm..oh my god, yes.” He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting a different angle that made your back arch off the bed as a mewl escaped your lips. “Just like that, baby. You sound so fucking beautiful moaning for me.” His praise was setting off a flame within you, making you say things you didn’t even realize you were saying.

“Ooh, fuck. Do whatever you want to me, please,” you beg, grinding against his fingers. You were on the verge of an orgasm and he could tell; he applied a little more pressure to your clit and whispered in your ear. “Show me how much you love being my good girl. Cum on my fingers, baby. Give it to me.” You squeezed your eyes shut, curving your back as you moaned his name, waves of pleasure enveloping you as you fluttered around his fingers. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, voice filled with pride. “So fucking pretty when you cum.” Just as you were coming back to earth, he pulled his fingers out of you and lined his cock, pushing inside you in a smooth thrust.

“Fuck!” you both moan in unison, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. He moved slow at first, trying to savour the moment, but then picked up the pace, gripping your hips. “You feel so fucking good. Goddamn, Y/N.” he grits out, thrusting into you harder. You were still sensitive but you wrapped your legs around him to pull him deeper. “Oh my god, Trent…”

“Yeah?” he groaned, fucking into you deeper. “You like that? I feel you squeezing me.”

“I love it,” you moan, dragging your nails down the skin on his back. “I missed your dick. I missed you. So. so. Much.”

He picked up the pace, thrusting into your g spot with every deep stroke. “Such a good girl for me now that I'm giving you what you want, huh? Just for me.” His praise made you moan louder, your body moving in tandem with his to match his rhythm. You whispered teasingly in his ear. “I love when you fuck me like this. You’re so good to me Trent.” He cursed under his breath, thrusting even harder and deeper from your seductive tone. “Keep talking to me, baby. I want to hear you,” he breathes while his hand slipped between your legs to massage your clit. “You’re gonna make me cum again,” you whimper, feeling the tension build inside you. “You fuck me soo good. Am I taking it good for you?”

“Ah, fuck,” he growls, thrusting into you erratically and moving faster on your clit. He didn’t answer your question, but you knew the answer already. “Cum for me baby. I wanna feel that pussy cum all over me.” Your second orgasm was so much more intense than the first. You were clawing his back, leaving love marks as you screamed his name. Trent was barely able to hold back anymore, and groaned into your ear while your pussy quivered around him. “I’m about to cum baby, where do you want it?” You could barely catch your breath, but his words reignited something sinfully wicked inside of you. “Inside me,” you beg in a shaky voice. “Please. I need you to fill me up.”

“Fuck..fuck..fuck” he groaned, burying himself deep inside your pussy. His cock pulsed as the ropes of cum spilled inside you. The warmth from his cum made you moan with satisfaction. Neither of you wanted to move off of each other after that, and it wasn’t like he was going to let you in the first place; The man had been entranced all night, and you were enjoying every second of it. He placed a soft kiss to your lips, “You did take it good for me, by the way. Such a good girl.” You giggled, still in a daze from your high. “I think you need to talk to me like that more often. That’s so sexy.”

After a couple of minutes of cuddling, you ran your hand across his chest. “So...Rêveur,” you said softly, glancing up at him

“Hm? What about it?”

You bit your lip, feeling a little guilty for asking him while he was so riled up earlier. Right now was a much better time to ask since both of your heads were clearer. “Are you actually okay if I release it for the gala? I know I brought it up earlier but…” Trent’s hand slid to your back, tracing the curve of your spine. “Yeah, it’s fine baby. It’s for a good reason, I’m all for it. Plus, I can brag more about how good you make me smell.” You giggled, reaching up to give him a kiss. “Okay..let’s make it happen then.”

A brief silence fell over the room before Trent pulled you closer to him, nuzzling into your neck, like he was trying to butter you up. “So...how’s the assistant search going?” he asked, very carefully testing the waters.

You groaned, running your fingers over his hair. “It’s...going. I have some interviews tomorrow. So that means we can’t stay up all night.” He pretended to be annoyed as he squeezed your waist. “Baby, it’s been weeks though!” You laughed, shifting around to look at him. “You’re acting like you’re starving. We just finished.”

“Maybe I am,” he shot back. “One round is just a warm up.”

“Oh, hush!” you teased, rolling your eyes. “You’ll survive until tomorrow. I can’t be late, seriously this time.” He laughed, remembering the chaos from when both of you overslept after a long night of fun. Trent reached for his phone, setting multiple alarms to make sure you were up on time. “We’ll see how the morning goes..” he smirked, pulling you close. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight” you whispered, snuggling into him. The alarms tomorrow would surely wake you up, or maybe not, depending on how bold Trent was feeling when they went off.

The next morning, you tried to slip out of bed as the alarms blared in the background, but Trent’s hand tightened around you, pulling you into him. “Where you going?” he mumbled sleepily.

“I have to get ready..” you whispered.

“A couple more minutes…” he teased, kissing the back of your neck.

Of course you gave in. One thing led to another and your ‘quickie’ turned into a full blown session, leaving you scrambling to get dressed. Trent’s home looked a little different now. A lot of your things found their place right next to his. Your toothbrush was next to his, your skincare products were neatly placed on his bathroom counter, and your clothes were starting to take up half his closet. Unintentionally, you made his place yours–and he made your place, his. 

“I’m gonna be late!” you laughed, grabbing your bag. Trent stood in the living room, grinning from ear to ear with no regrets. “I woke you up on time though. You’re welcome,” he said, looking amused and very proud of himself. You shot him a playful glare before giving him a kiss goodbye and heading out the door.

Camille was already lounging behind the counter with a smirk on her face when you got to Les Notes d’Amour. “You have a little glow going on today....Trent I’m guessing?? You’re cutting it kinda close babe.”

“Shut up Camille! I’m here now, okay?”

“Barely.” Camille giggled. 

You dropped your bag on the counter, trying to compose yourself. You looked pretty put together, but Camille could read you like a book. “I was multitasking.”

“Right..is that what it’s called now?” she shot back, bursting into laughter. “Anyway, are we ready for this madness? You said there were tons of applications, yeah?” You sighed, settling into a chair as you tried to mentally prepare yourself for the day. “Yeah, but I narrowed it down to four. I just hope they’re not all weird.” Camille grinned, always down for some fun. “There’s always one. Let’s just hope they’re entertaining.”

The first candidate carried themselves like they were about to conduct a TED Talk. He didn't waste any time before launching into an introduction that sounded like a dissertation for a doctorate degree. “Fragrance is an intricate balance of compounds and molecular distillation processes. When properly executed, it can maximize olfactory efficiency over time.”

What the fuck is he going on about? 

Both you and Camille looked at each other, confusion etched on your faces. You nodded, pretending like you understood whatever the hell he was saying. “Sooo, what’s your experience with retail?” you asked, attempting to steer the convo back to something more understandable. “Well, I have a passion for molecular evaporation techniques. Retail is secondary,” the guy continued, unphased. “You see, when certain notes are distilled just right…” You suppressed your laughter throughout the rest of the interview, eventually ending the conversation. As soon as the door closed, Camille scrunched her face up, “What the hell was that??”

Candidate two walked in with crystal necklaces and smelled strongly of patchouli. She took in a deep breath, closing her eyes to feel the energy of the space.

“This place has such an unbalanced aura, but I can fix that.”

Camille eyed her with intrigue. “I’m curious to know how you’re going to do that?”

The candidate pulled out a rose quartz crystal, holding it up to the light. “I’ll align the energy of all the fragrances to my chakras. It’s all about cleansing the vibes in here. Very dark energy in this place.” You looked around confused. What is a chakra? You didn’t know how to respond, so you asked her about her experience in retail.

“My energy speaks for itself” she replied, setting the crystal on the table.

Camille giggled, “Does your energy know how to answer phones and emails?” The candidate gave Camille a sweet smile, not answering the question at all. “It’s all a part of a bigger cosmic picture. You’ll see soon enough.”

Umm, okay girl, anyway...

“Of course I picked all the weird people”, you told Camille as the chakra girl left.

The bell above the door chimed when the next candidate walked in: Ember.

She was beautifully striking with vibrant red hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She was tall like a Willow tree; she definitely could’ve just stepped off a NYFW runway. She wore a black turtleneck, paired with tailored trousers..very sleek and minimalist. She had a confident smile that immediately drew you in when she gave you a firm handshake. 

Finally, someone professional.

“Thanks for meeting with me,” Ember began with a composed voice. “I’ve seen a lot of your work over the years. Love your use of tuberose in your collections.” You blinked, surprised. Not many people knew about that detail unless they followed your work closely. It was an interesting observation, but she had probably just done her research before the interview to impress you. The interview continued smoothly, Ember talked about her experience handling high-end clients, managing orders, and had a knowledgeable demeanour. But something about how she navigated conversations so easily gave you an odd vibe. It wasn’t enough to question her, but it was strange.

When she left, you glanced at Camille. “What do you think?” Camille shrugged, “She’s good. Knows her stuff.”

The last candidate was Tara. She was the complete opposite of Ember in appearance, but was eye-catching in her own way. She had a bubbly personality, was short, and had curly black hair that framed her face. She wore oversized frames that made her look a bit whimsical, as if she had just come out of a cartoony fairytale. Her outfit was playful, yet chic. She wore patterned trousers with a tucked in blouse, paired with trendy boots. She was full of energy.

“Hiii! So excited to be here!” Tara said enthusiastically, but not too loud. You smiled at her energy, but Camille leaned back in her chair, intrigued by the shift in energy. The moment Tara sat down, she started talking about how much she loved perfume. “I’ve been obsessed with fragrances since I was a kid. My mum used to take me to try samples all the time!” She didn’t have the same polished demeanour as Ember, but her enthusiasm was refreshing and felt genuine. She said she was still in uni, but wanted to gain more experience. Camille glanced over at you, trying to feel out the vibe. “So, how do you balance uni and everything? Must be chaotic.” Tara nodded, “It is but I thrive on chaos.” She pushed her glasses up, grinning playfully. “My love for perfume keeps me sane..and footie.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Footie??”

“Oh yeah! Massive Liverpool fan,” she said casually. “Always in red!”

Oh, if only you knew.

You smiled, relaxing a little. “Same…” Tara quickly moved on to talk about her top perfumes, and how she loved the creativity of fragrance making. You felt like she could fit in well, especially with her easy-going vibe. You were thankful she didn't mention anything about Trent. Camille’s voice broke you out from your thoughts and you realized you spaced out after Tara left. “Footie, huh? Maybe she wants your man,” Camille teased. You shook your head quickly. “Eh, doubt it. She’s just excited about the club, I think. Can’t blame her, they’re great.”

“Well…whoever you hire. You should make them sign an NDA.”

“Huh? For an assistant?? That’s a bit much, no?” you frowned, confused on why she would recommend something like that. It’s not like they were going to be around Trent often.

Camille shrugged, her tone casual as she glanced back at the CVs on the table. “Maybe. But now that you and Trent are more public..it really might not be a bad idea. People talk.” You nodded, but you weren’t fully convinced. “I guess...but I don’t really see the point right now. They probably won’t even be around him.” Camille knew you were stubborn as a mule, and didn’t push it any further. You signed off on the paperwork to hire Ember full-time, and Tara part-time, while Camille continued looking at both their CVs. Her eyes lingered on the part of Tara’s that mentioned she was studying public relations in uni.

“PR, huh?” Camille muttered under her breath, too quiet for you to catch.

When you made it back to Trent's house, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. The interviews drained you more than you expected. You sank into the couch, letting out a long sigh. Trent's aftershave lingered in the air, it was a scent you had grown accustomed to smelling all the time, and it made your heart warm every time. Trent was still at training, so you decided to binge one of the best Love Island seasons while you waited for him.

When Trent got back home, he wandered to the living room to find you sprawled out on the couch half way into a season of Love Island. You looked up at him, grinning. “Hi baby! Come watch, you have to see this recoupling.” He reluctantly sat down, acting like he didn’t care. “I don’t know how you watch this shit.” It didn’t take long for him to get sucked into the drama, though. Callum had just come back from Casa Amor with a new girl. Gemma stayed loyal the whole time and looked like she was either going to cry or kill him. Both??

“Nah! No way he did that to her!” Trent blurted out, forgetting he wasn’t supposed to care. His eyes were glued to the screen as his head lay in your lap. You stifled a laugh, glancing down at him in amusement. “Oh, all of a sudden you care now?”

“I don’t care,” he muttered, eyes still fully on the screen. “She’s gutted though.” You burst out laughing, “Trent, why are you into this more than I am?”

“Shut up…”

Gemma turned away, refusing to look at Callum. Trent’s jaw dropped. “Nah he’s finished. She’s not going to stay, right? You already saw this one???” You shrugged, trying to keep the suspense, “Keep watching and see.” A few minutes passed and the entire villa was in shambles. People were crying, yelling, storming off. It was hilariously chaotic. Trent shook his head, not believing what he was watching. “Shit’s scripted. Why do you watch this?”

“Because it's hilarious,” you replied. “The drama is better when you’re not a part of it.”

“Yeah..but would you couple up with me if we were on the show?” Trent asked playfully. You looked at him, pretending to think about it. “I dunno. You might come back with a girl like Callum.”

“Nah! Never!”

You shrugged, running your hands over his hair. “Sorry, baby.. but I would have to couple up with someone else.” You said it so seriously that Trent almost believed you before you both burst out laughing. 

“I’d choose you every time, Y/N..” he said, sitting up and leaning in closer. “I’m not just saying that either. I mean it. Every. Single. Time.” Your heart was almost beating out of your chest, the teasing from earlier disappearing completely. “You really mean that?”

He nodded, his gaze faltering to your lips before he pulled you in for a tender kiss. “Never been more sure.” Trent’s eyes locked on yours after the kiss, and without any hesitation, he said it. Perfectly clear, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I love you.”

So simple and matter-of-fact. It hit you like a ton of bricks.

You blinked, mostly out of shock as the realization washed over you. He did say it. He said it before, too. The night when he fell asleep on the phone. You weren’t imagining things. He was in love with you.

He loves me. Oh my god. This is real. Like we’re in it now. This is serious.

Your thoughts tumbled over themselves. Trying to make sense of the whirlwind the last couple of months had been. Your body honestly didn’t know how to react. Part of you wanted to kiss him, the other part of you wanted to tell him to shut up, another part of you wanted to get up and run away, your conscience wanted to tell him you loved him back. The stakes were even higher now.

“Y/N??” Trent’s voice pulled you out of your head. He noticed how quiet you were. You looked up at him, eyes wide and glassy, unsure of what to say exactly. He didn’t look worried at all, though. He wasn’t second guessing his words. He was just watching you, observing and waiting patiently with reassurance in his expression.

“I..” you started, but your voice faltered. What the hell were you supposed to say? Did you love him or not? 

I don't know if I'm ready for this. But I think I love him too? Ugh, everything's going so fast.

Everything was moving too quickly in your mind and somehow.. still not fast enough. You couldn’t deny the way his words made your heart swell, but you also didn’t feel ready yet. Maybe it was self-sabotage? Or maybe you were just in shock?? You swallowed hard, trying to blink back the tears pooling in your eyes. You weren’t sad, but everything felt extremely overwhelming.

How is he so sure?

Trent didn’t push you, though. He smiled, brushing his thumb over your lips. “You don’t have to say anything Y/N. I just wanted you to know.” You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. He loved you.

It was terrifying, exhilarating, and intoxicating all at the same time.

Just as you were trying to make sense of everything, a lurking, whispering voice came creeping in from the corners of your mind, like when the moon crosses the sun.

What if fate was never on your side? The sun can't shine forever, right? The tension from thunder and lightning only happens when it's about to rain.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! i appreciate each and every one of you that take the time to read this. lmk what you think

[syndrossi]

I have the mother of all migraines right now, so I have nothing constructive to say, really, except that I imagine having an evil candle mess around in your brain provides amazing headaches as well. I feel for Daemon if this is true and wish him all the luck in finding a remedy. Excellent chapter, full of torture for poor Daemon. I really was like, "Oh my God, Syndrossi DID IT," when I realized Daemon was about to see how the twins died in their original universes and mistake it as a prophetic vision of how they may/will die in the future. Poor guy can only put so many pictures together when provided this limited amount of confusing puzzle pieces!! I'd like to eventually hear more of his thoughts on: - his eldest son being commander of the night's watch - WHY his eldest son is even a member of the night's watch - his youngest son being killed by a BARATHEON of all things - why House Baratheon is fighting House Targaryen forces - wtf where are all the dragons, no way should Rhaegar OR Jon be ANYWHERE without their DRAGONS, let alone without back up dragons from the rest of the family during a war/battle!? <--- in a bits and pieces and fuzzy memories or in eventual memories coming back to him sort of way or even in waking up terrified because NIGHTMARE in the middle of the night sort of way (wherein his sons provide comfort in cuddles and forehead kisses!) And Jon/Rhaegar's thoughts on: - candle consequences reflecting in Daemon's behavior - when they realize what happened: wtf why did daemon let the candle get him THEY WARNED HIM - oh no what did the candle do to their father - how to DESTROY THE CANDLE ONCE AND FOR ALL ... also, do you think if he complained of a headache or even just looked like he had a headache, Jon and Rhaegar would wrestle him into bed and turn out the sconces/close the curtains and cuddle him until he fell asleep?

If Daemon is king of anything, it's king of having only half the puzzle pieces he needs to ever meaningfully connect the dots, if I may mangle some metaphors. Enough clues from the boys' behavior to determine they had rough childhoods, but the only answer is "Allard." Enough clues from the vision to determine "death awaits!" but not "my children were reincarnated...from the future."

You'll get a lot of the Jon+Rhaegar reactions in the next chapter, so it's really whether enough pieces come back to Daemon to ruminate upon what the heck Jon was doing as Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, what in the seven hells House Baratheon is up to, and WHERE THE FUCK his sons' dragons are. Someone else brought up that one thing he could conclude is that Shadow and Qelebrys are stolen/killed young, which, ya know, just one more thing for Daemon to be paranoid about.

I think the biggest puzzle would be why Rhaegar would agree to be separated from Jon rather than demand to go into the Night's Watch with him, and the conclusion would be that something/someone is coercing them. Does Jon accept exile to spare Rhaegar in some way? In the civil war later, does Rhaegar fight on the same side as the ruler who exiled Jon to the Night's Watch? If so, why? (Daemon thought he must be dead, but the true nightmare is if he thinks that HE'S the hostage, and he does outlive both sons.)

And to soften things a little, I've got a sweet little "Daemon with a headache" missing scene almost ready to post.

[a-pretty-nerd]

Choose Me

Viktor x afab!fem!reader

Chapter 9

Summary: You are "salvageable."

Chapter 8

Here is a link to the updated Masterlist of the series.

Warnings: VIEWER DISCRESSION IS ADVISED! Some real Frankestien shit this chapter. Descriptions of a corpse, violence, gore, reanimation. You mean science went wrong, again!? Gasp! No! You ever just wanna go apeshit?

A/N: I've been really looking forward to writing this chapter because it was very important to me. This fanfiction has been a lead up to this and the following chapters. I'm sorry it took so long, I was going through it. But I hope you guys enjoy this addition.

"Salvageable..." Viktor spoke in disgust, "you call your own child...Salvageable?" He spat at your father. He had pulled himself up to lean on his worktable, the morning paper clutched to his chest in one hand. He glared at the man who stood before. His stomach turning with the rage of a hurricane.

"I was lucky she died on my property otherwise it would have been far more difficult to pass the fake off to the authorities. The blunt-force trauma she suffered in her fall can be fixed with some simple iron work."

"I don't believe what I am hearing..."

"You are not the only man of scientific genius in Piltover. My team and I are confident that with the help of hextech we could-"

"You and your team of lunatics are mistaken!" Viktor shouted, his fingers clutching the newspaper he pressed to his chest as he supported himself with the other.

"You are speaking to an investor, son! I suggest you watch your tone with me!" He threatened. Viktor shook his head.

"I suggest you leave, immediately." He turned his back only for your father to swiftly approach him. He grabbed his shoulder and wrenched Viktor back to face him.

"I don't think you understand what I'm saying. You have a chance to make things right here." His fingers dug into Viktor's shoulders. "We could perform the ultimate miracle. Don't you see? You could bring her back to life..." Your father's voice became soft and encouraging. Viktor paused. He thought for a moment. Could it be? Did he really have what it took to bring you back from the dead? All his trials, all his failed experiments just to cure himself. Could it really work? His curiosity was getting the better of him. When Viktor didn't answer your father, he just patted him on the shoulder. "Think it over, son. I'll see you at the funeral."

Viktor did not attend the funeral. He found himself trapped amongst his work, trying to understand what your father meant. What he had done to convince himself that hextech could reanimate a dead body. As far as Viktor was concerned, it was impossible. He couldn't even begin to solve the issue of keeping his subjects from rotting. So how could it bring anyone back from the dead?

Jayce went to your funeral in Viktor's place. He mourned you the way a friend should. Standing tall in his suit with a frown and a few well-intentioned tears as "your" casket passed by him. He said a small prayer to the body that laid in your place. He found himself frustrated by the whole thing. He watched as familiar faces young and old cried for their loss. You had drawn an impressive crowd and yet amongst them Viktor was absent. By the end, Jayce received a telegram informing him that Viktor was being held by police for breaching the blockade Jayce had enforced just days prior.

Viktor sat and watched as Police forces held back an angry mob of furious Undercity residents. He coughed into a handkerchief as his mind swirled with intense emotion and fear. Guilt making his body feel heavier than usual.

"Jayce, what is this?"

"Do you have any idea how this looks? I order a blockade and my own partner violates it!?" He hissed at him as he approached.

"You, ordered this? Why?"

"There are people down there hell bent on destroying us. What were you doing down there!?"

"I was consulting someone about..." He paused, "about our quandary. I told you I knew someone."

"Well you didn't say they were from the Undercity!"

"What difference does that make?"

"What difference- They're dangerous!" Viktor's eyes narrowed at Jayce.

"I'M from the Undercity." He reminded him with a cold gaze as he got up, smacking Jayce's hand away as he tried to help him up.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I've just...had a lot on my plate and today...I...well, was your friend able to help?" Viktor considered Jayce's question for a moment.

"No. No he said nature was resistant to this sort of...tampering." Viktor lied as a vile of curated shimmer sat patiently in his pocket.

"We'll keep at it then...You uh...you missed the funeral."

"I know." Viktor nodded.

"You should have been there." Jayce told him softly as they walked back together. Viktor shuffling along side as he shook his head.

"No. No I don't think I should."

"Look, I know how close you were. You can't just ignore this. Who cares what her shitty father thinks, you had every right to be there. To...to mourn that loss." Viktor gritted his teeth as Jayce smoke. He knew Jayce had very little idea what the reality of the situation was, and his previous insult and disregard was beginning to grate on Viktor's nerves.

Behind them the crowd shouted as a flaming bottle was thrown and crashed on the path behind them. They watched for a moment before Viktor spoke.

"I have work to do." Viktor dismissed him through his teeth, trying to keep his composure. Jayce couldn't believe Viktor could be so cold and unfeeling. He watched Viktor leave as more storm clouds began to roll in from above.

What does it feel like to be dead? You might say there is a form of release. Floating in weightless nothing as consciousness slowly erodes. Perhaps that wasn't death. Merely the in-between. The darkness you wade through like when you're close to falling asleep. The voices you heard sometimes sounded familiar. Sometimes a word or two said by voices you recognized but couldn't identify. If this wasn't death, what was it? Where were you?

Sometimes there was music. Yes, music. Violin, piano, flute. A voice singing along with muddled words. Memories, perhaps.

Viktor was escorted in by your father's staff. He had doubled the security, doubled the efforts. Viktor's eyes inspected every inch of the house as he was brought up to the attic. For the first time he saw the home you grew up in. The oddly sterile and formal home your mother made and your father maintained.

Viktor's stomach tossed and turned as he followed your father's hulking and disheveled being into the attic. His breath caught in his throat. He froze at the sight of the room. The intricate machinery, the crudely made controls, the hextech inspired work. Viktor was disgusted. His first inclination was to get away, to run. But the guards behind him kept him there. His frightened golden eyes flashed over the table in the center of the room. His heart sank. Thunder and lightening crackled outside as the yellow lights cascaded down.

"The storm is upon is, sir. We are ready to begin." The mad doctor said, wearing bandages from wounds you gave him a few nights ago. Your father nods and thanks the man as they begin their preparations. The old man turns to Viktor with sad, tired eyes.

"I'm sure as a man of science you're curious to know the procedure when it comes to these things."

"These things?" Viktor asked firmly, fighting back the urge to lay into the old man. He nodded with a somber expression. He pointed towards the table in the center of the room. Draped in a cloth, the shell of yourself lay.

"Unfortunately, she's been a bit more scuffed up than other subjects." He hears your father's voice as the doctor slowly removes the cloth. Revealing your body. Viktor's heart stops for a moment as his eyes adjust to the sight. It's your body, but it's not you. You aren't there. Your head is partially shaven and metal disks have been used to patch up your broken skull. Down your middle is a massive autopsy-like cut that has been carefully sewn back together. "So we had to improvise. We repaired her broken bones with hearty metals that will continue to heal with time. We were lucky her organs were mostly unharmed. It made the removal of some easier."

"Removal?" Viktor asked curiously. Your father nodded.

"We had to remove a kidney which had be pierced by a broken bone as well as her uterus. If we let the embryo fester any longer it would have rotted her from the inside out, and then we would have nothing. Once decomposition sets in, they're lost to us." Viktor tries to process his words. He tries to process everything, but some words stick to him and suck out all his attention and energy. He blinks a few times before looking up at the old cowboy. One word stands out in particular.

"Embryo?" His voice is low and soft, as if he's afraid to say the word at all. Your father's face turns deceptively sympathetic.

"Did she not tell you?" He asks abruptly. Viktor's brows furrow as his eyes narrow at him in confusion.

"She was..."

"Yes, son. I'm afraid so." Your father straightened his posture as he walked past Viktor. He turned his attention to the machinery, checking wiring and tubing and calculations. "But the time to worry about that has passed. We can still save her."

The storm crashes above them. Switches are flipped as the air becomes electric. Viktor can feel little static shocks as he holds his crutch close. Leaning on it as the sudden pressure in the air forces him into a coughing fit. He coughs blood into his handkerchief as the machines around them vibrate to life. The roof is opened and the cold night air floods the room. Viktor looks up to watch your father approach your body. In his hands are the unmistakable hex crystals Viktor and Jayce supplied. The very thing you gave your life to stop.

He watches in frozen horror as the mournful man places the crystals in your empty eye sockets. While the doctor prepares a syringe. The purple liquid sparkles brightly. A deep purple that leans more blue than red. Viktor recognizes it. Shimmer. No doubt something that has been engineered by the great Mr.Y/L/N himself. How is he so confident that this will work? How does he know? What other subjects have there been?

The shimmer is injected into your hollow veins, intermingling with your still blood. It pushes through, forcing blood and shimmer through you as your shell lays there, waiting. The men stand back, their eyes leaving you to look up to the storm above. Your father backs away to stand firmly by a lever. He looks at Viktor.

"You might want to brace yourself, son." His voice demands. Viktor's eyes frantically dart between him and your body, until the flash of lightening from above distracts him.

"All hands stand by!" The doctor shouts formally. As if he's done this a thousand times. "Ready!" All eyes stare up at at clouds above as the wind blows through the room. Viktor rests himself against a control panel as he watches with sick curiousity. Wide, watering eyes observing every movement. He watches as several rods of metal fight against the harsh storm winds. Reaching out for a chance that lightening will strike. As if sent by the gods themselves, lightning stretches across the sky like the veins of an electric beast. They flash and then suddenly a blinding light strikes upon them. Without hesitation your father switches the lever and electricity is funneled through wires and tubes.

Sparks pop wildly into the room as they try to sheild their eyes with goggles and arms. Viktor hunches over to cover his face as the machine's vibrations turn to uneasy rattling. Your body jerks wildly as the energy is funneled into you.

You begin to shake violently. Crashing down to earth as the concept of feeling returns. Your body clattering against the metal table while your consciousness is pulled back. Pain. Nothing put pain. The nothingness gave way to feelings. Physical. Your mouth opens as air is pushed out of your lungs. Announcing your gruesome return by pushing the air out of your lungs. Your eyelids snap open as the hex crystals spark to life as if they were your own eyes. The magic and shimmer and electricity course through you. Your mouth let's out an inhumane shriek.

They duck in pain as they cover their ears to the sound. It rings on for far longer than it should have as the room trembles like there's an earthquake. The rattling of the machines turns to concerning shaking. Sparkes flying when they shouldn't be. Your father shouts something at the doctors, demanding that they stabilize you.

Viktor unshielded his eyes to watch you. There you are. Shrieking in pain as your body is wracked with tremors, a monster of your former glory. He shakes his head. Hot tears streaming down his cheeks as wide eyes burn the imagine into his skull forever. He scrambles back towards the door. He runs. The best he can, he escapes back out into the night and doesn't stop until he's home.

Leaving you to shriek again as the building shakes. The windows shatter at the frequency of your voice as you come crashing back to earth.

[sammygender]

i’ve never been as angry on behalf of a character as i am for sam winchester

[longagoitwastuesday]

Kusakabe, dear, you're too beautiful to be saying that kind of stuff

[quietwingsinthesky]

what if Dean killed Charlie himself for helping Sam with the book of the damned instead of immediately telling Dean what was happening. what if he still told Sam it was his fault for putting Charlie in harm’s way (in this scenario, anywhere near Dean with the mark on him, despite her and Sam trying to remove said mark?) what if Dean had actually killed someone important to him who trusted him and loved him?

[beedreamscape]

The thought that Scanlan would fall for Deanna at first sight rings so true in my head

Not to be that kind of person regarding player/character and repeated dynamics but......

[marklikely]

getting annoyed at all the people i keep seeing saying no omg halloween ends was so good because they tried something new and im like yeah ok but did literally any of the stuff they tried actually turn out good? no.

[dekuneho]

tenderly, tragically ☆ ( ​prohero!katsuki x reader ) — aftermath of a huge argument, clingy and soft katsuki my entire blog’s agenda

You wake to an empty bed once again — the third time this week. It’s cold on your right; that’s a bit unfair. Does Katsuki take all the love and warmth along with him? Or it could be because it’s two AM and every trace of fatigue drained out of you at the reminder of your lone bedroom, like a cold, empty picture of a memorial.

You shuffle out of bed, ignoring how strangely unsettling it is not to have a body to crawl over just to get to the kitchen. You forgo the house slippers; you only steal Katsuki's pair anyway — and right now, he's out of the question.

The kitchen feels just as stale. No surprise there. Katsuki's absence sucked the life out of your shared apartment.

A glimpse of orange by the dining table begs for your attention. You approach carefully, stomach swooping. It’s a lunchbox, still with leftover food greasing the sides, unwashed. You know this one well enough because you bought it for him. For Katsuki. This was never here before, though.

You aren't sure how the fight started, if it was something blandly petty, or if either of you crossed an unforgivable line that tipped towards a night of screaming and shrieking that had your neighbors complaining hours after. You find that you don't have it in yourself to care anymore. This apartment, that bed — all without Katsuki is worse than any hurtful dagger of words you threw at each other.

Your fingers skim on the orange lunchbox, tracing the little ‘X’s sprinkled throughout like some off-brand copy of his hero costume, intimately familiar. Katsuki snorted when you gifted it to him — it was a really, really ugly laugh.

"Oh."

You startle and whip your head to the source, gaze landing on Katsuki, stunned and mid-way through rubbing the back of his hair with a towel.

You flinch away from the lunchbox, embarrassed. Insulting him brought him to life.

The comfort you'd been craving for the past three days materialized in the physical embodiment of the person you were supposedly angry at. It’s hard to summon even a trace of it now, not when the person you’d been aching for is standing a few feet away, just shy out of reach.

“Why are you awake?” Katsuki starts, uncharacteristically soft, gratingly rough like left unused for a while.

“Why are you here?” you ask instead. You refuse to admit outright that you couldn’t sleep without him — refuse to admit that it’s what’s been eating you up since the fight.

Katsuki frowns. “This is my place too.”

“What?” You’re not even mad. You’re just — “I thought you crashed at Kirishima’s house this entire time.”

“I’m not just gonna—” Katsuki bites his tongue, looking off to the side. He continues drying his hair, the biceps of his arm rippling. “Been sleeping on the couch. So I didn’t wake you up, or whatever.”

Well, you don’t know what to feel. Are you supposed to feel excited that Katsuki still came home even when you both unspokenly swore not to face each other? Furious that he hasn’t tried to apologize and instead snuck around the apartment like a thief on a hit-and-run in the dead of the night?

Maybe both. You might just be relieved that he didn’t hate you enough to keep himself away, even if he didn’t crawl up in the same bed.

“Right,” you say in a soft exhale. “Okay.”

Katsuki’s eyes flick up to you again warily, dangerously still. You don’t know what to say to him, so you keep quiet. Red eagerly follows as you reach for his lunchbox and pad over to the kitchen sink. As if sensing his response, you spare him a glance.

“I’ll do it,” you say. “I’ll wash this. Go change.”

You face away from the bedroom with purpose, scrubbing diligently. Soon enough, his footsteps sound across the silent apartment, fading to your bedroom. His closet is there, meaning his clothes are stacked in it, too. You wonder if he’s ever looked at you asleep and thought it looked as empty as you felt it was.

After you rinse off the suds and wipe the excess water on the towel hanging over the stove, Katsuki greets you with a sight of him resting against the bedroom door frame. How rude. You’d given him a free pass, and he’s blocking you off in return.

“Katsuki,” you mutter, walking closer.

He stares, tracing the curve of your cheek and the swell of your mouth. You missed him, too. Now that he’s here, emanating heat, the vestiges of lethargy wriggle back into the bones of your body. You long for your bed; you long to take him along with you.

“D’you wanna talk about it?” Katsuki rasps out.

“Not right now.” You shake your head. “Not really.”

“Okay,” says Katsuki softly, shifting to shuffle past you.

You latch onto his wrist, trying your best to keep his gaze. “Sleep on the bed.”

Katsuki freezes, then turns and gazes into your eyes searchingly. You hope you can convey well enough that you hate him for fueling your bubbling fury, for sharing the heated remarks; most of all, you hate him for leaving.

“Okay,” Katsuki says again. “Okay, yeah. Let’s go to bed.”

Somehow, you end up on the bed with Katsuki’s arms caged around you from behind. His breaths hot against the nape of your neck, your body warmed head to toe. He has one leg in between your thighs, pulling you closer, and closer, until you can almost cry from how good it feels to be back here. You’ve given him an inch and knew he would take a mile.

“I don’t like when we fight,” Katsuki grumbles, sounding half-asleep.

“Mm.”

“So let’s just forget about it.”

“Is that healthy?”

“Dunno. Don’t care.” Katsuki’s mouth hovers over your neck, teeth marks a threat. “What’s unhealthy are the bags under my fuckin’ eyes.”

You laugh, breathy, and a violent shudder courses through Katsuki. You turn to your side to meet Katsuki’s little scowl, a pout. For every villain and civilian’s worst nightmare, he’s really charming. 

“Are you only trying to make it up to me so you don’t have to take up the couch?”

Katsuki would usually fire back with a snark, but this time, you get to watch as his eyes soften and his shoulders lose their tension. He hides it away with a large hand on your face in the guise of tousling your hair.

“No,” he murmurs, “can’t sleep without you.”

Your eyes slip shut, giddy like it’s your first date. “Then I guess our feelings are still mutual.”

[batshit-auspol]

I just spent some time scrolling through this blog and am suffering from sever laughter. Thanks so much for collating the countries craziest moments. One of my favourites is when Scott Morrison was in Hawaii while the bushfires where burning.

December 2019: As Australia's east coast is engulfed in the worst bushfires in living memory, rumours begin to circulate that Australia's Prime Minister Scott Morrison may have secretly fucked off for a holiday in Hawaii.

Keep in mind, this is what is going down in Australia at the time:

The Hawaii rumour is initially written off as a fringe conspiracy, because surely nobody could be that fuckin tonedeaf, and it was quickly forgotten about... until an Australian man visiting Hawaii UPLOADED A SELFIE ON THE BEACH WITH THE PM THROWING A SHAKA.

At which point all hell broke loose.

Overnight the formerly popular "Scomo" became the most despised man in all of Australia. Think "firefighters shouting out of their windows to news cameras" level of despised.

After about two days of radio silence and pretending like he was still at home running the country, the Prime Minister's handlers finally dragged him onto call with an Australian radio station, where he pinky promised to return to Australia as fast as he could in an attempt to calm things down.

Unfortunately Scott's empathy consultant (a real job) then had to watch Scott pour more gasoline on the dumpster fire by uttering the now famous phrase "Look I don't hold a hose mate" when asked by the radio interviewer why the fucking fuck the fuckhead wasn't fucking in Australia doing his fucking job during a massive fucking crisis.

Testing just how much worse things could get, Scomo then proceeded to NOT rush back to Australia as promised, instead attempting to complete the rest of his holiday, a fact that was exposed when a passerby snapped a picture of him still lounging on the beach two days later.

Eventually, holiday complete, Morrison did reluctantly slink back to Australia, and in an attempt to calm things down, he decided to pay a visit to a small town that had been destroyed by the fires.

Which was a big mistake.

Scomo still had not registered how absolutely and totally he had screwed the poodle with his Hawaiian beach vacation, and he walks into what is now taught in PR classes as one of the greatest examples of "what not do do in a crisis" in all of history.

Scotty from Marketing, as he is now dubbed by the nation, spends a painfully cringe-inducing hour wandering around a burned down town with TV news cameras in tow, having to FORCE PEOPLE TO SHAKE HIS HAND in what is some of the most awkward footage you will ever see.

At this point it's probably also worth mentioning that, before becoming Prime Minister, Scott Morrison's biggest claim to fame in politics was being the guy that was so far up the coal lobby's arse that he literally brought coal into parliament and waved it around, claiming it doesn't hurt people.

So when a protest was organised it turned out to be one big national fuck you to the Prime Minister, the likes of which the world has never seen before or since.

Needless to say, at this point Scomo's career was dead in the water, but thanks to the rules brought in to stop Australian political parties from knifing their leader every two weeks (a popular Aussie passtime) Morrison basically couldn't get fired until after the next election.

And so, when the election rolled around in 2022, we decided that was an opportune time to travel over to Hawaii to erect this bad boy tribute to the Prime Minister, on the very beach where Scomo had sat and drank margaritas that one fateful week in December as Australia burned (thanks to @chaser for funding the ticket)

[valwrote]

PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒

WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?

featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.

synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.

warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)

a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.

DILUC 🍷

PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 

He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.

One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?

That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.

“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.

If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.

ALHAITHAM 🌱

PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.

Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?

Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.

“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.

“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.

This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.

ZHONGLI 🪨

PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.

"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."

WRIOTHESLEY 🐺

PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.

"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.

“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way…” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 

He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…

[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.

NEUVILLETTE 🌊

PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.

Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.

“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 

“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.

Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.

He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.

a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??

don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.

©definitelysel

[bluerosefox]

Assassin Heir? Crime Fighting Furry? NOPE NO THANK YOU!

"Danyal, its time to end this game and return with me."

Danny should had known Clockwork had something in mind when he sent him on this mission. He knew he should had been suspicious of the time keeper when he noticed the little 'this is going to be fun' smile on his face when he sent Danny off into the portal.

"Get back here you demon spawn 2.0!"

But how was he supposed to know that he'd wake up in this world version of himself in a pit full of corrupted (AND NASTY) ectoplasim at the tender age of five or that when he swam up to the surface he'd be meeting face to face with what was apparently a cult.

"-O just spotted him a block away! I'll try to cut itty bitty bridie off!"

An Assassins Cult his, new to him, loving yet a little insane mother was in charge of (though during the few months he stayed in the compound he heard rumors and gossip from maids and others alike that if his grandfather returned from the dead he'll take over once again, no doubt punish Talia for creating another heir after the failure of the last one, most likely was going to kill Danny and that... that was can of worms Danny didn't wanna deal with yet)

"Ten bucks says they try to stab RR when we get the feral thing home"

"...Losers bet...."

Danny had lived with his mother for a while after being brought back from the 'dead' for apparently the first time, it turned out training a five year old with an actual sword and a dumbass hidden revenge seeking teacher was a terrible idea.

"I swear if this one tries to murder me like the others I'm asking Zatanna if there is a curse on me."

He dealt with her high demands of perfection, the endless training, and the constant comparisons to his apparent older brother Damain... Who didn't know Danny, or rather Danyal existed.

Nor did his father (when Danny, using his powers he's kept hidden since 'waking' up in this Realm, he sneaked his way around the base and discovered how he came into the world. And tbh he couldn't blame his mom how she made him, she was an assassin first and foremost, being naturally pregnant would had painted a target on her for to long... but he also felt it was unfair and an asshole move on his unsuspecting father as well)

"As your elder brother I demand you to stop running!"

Now don't get him wrong, he did like his new mother (total badass assassin lady and all that) and he knew she loved him in her own... deadly way. But yeah, she really shouldn't be taking care of kids. He could tell she struggled with wanting to be a normal mother but her first instinct after so many years was to be an assassin first.

Something she was trying to engrave into Danny with as well.

"Ah, hello Beloved. I see you've learned of our Danyal."

"Talia. Back away from him and leave Gotham now."

"I can not do that. The League needs an heir and since Damian refuses to return... I have decided to create a new one and I shall not be leaving until he returns with me."

"Talia."

Hence why when Danny, or rather Danyal al Ghul had gotten decent control over his powers he decided to leave the League. Again nothing wrong with the life his mom leads, to each their own, but he... really, really didnt want to be an assassin. Or an assassin heir.

So here he was, after almost a year on the run, using his powers and training to out smart and out maneuver his mother and her many band of Assassins, in Gotham. One of the last places he ever wanted to run to cause he knew his father and brother lived here.

It was just his luck that his mother had managed to intercept his train ride that passed into Gotham for a few hours and forced him to run into the city...

Add her assassins into the mix and running into Robin, who heard from Oracle his mother had been spotted chasing a young boy across the city, that same night.

After that it became a full on "catch me if you can" chase for not only his mother but for the batclan as well.

And after two whole days of chase, it seemed like the final showdown was about to begin because everyone was on top of this rooftop, his mother and her assassins on one side, his father and the batclan on the other and Danny well... he was right in the middle of all of it.

He just had to hope no one would notice him once the fighting started...