#you may be asking. why are they fighting.... simple

[harmonysanreads]

so my thoughts are inspired by your Concept and a flame reaver smut i read the other day that i can no longer find [i could swear i rbed it or at least saved it somewhere but its just gone somehow???].

!!!!!SPOILER WARNING FOR PEOPLE WHO HAVEN’T DONE THE QUEST!!!!!!

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Imagine phainon taking reader for himself in the final cycle. He has been running endlessly, burning himself to ashes just for a chance to be with his darling. And now it has all come to an end, and he's a shell of what he was but oh does the desire still burn within him. So, with all coming to an end and him knowing he may just cease to exist, why not indulge himself for a fraction of time??? Hasn’t he suffered enough???? He doesn’t want a rewars but can he not show himself an ounce of mercy in dying with the radiantmemory of his darling???

In my mind he simply snaps and snatches darling right from the front of chrysos heirs. Like his trailer showed anaxa protecting hyacine, reader was with them behind anaxa and flame reaver!khaslana simply grabs darling's neck and take them away with him through his portal before anyone can blink. And then he's almost crushing darling against his chest while darling is fighting and crying hysterically from fear. Somehow his mask flies off mid-brawl and darling freezes. Khaslana just laughs dejectedly while cradling the face of a shell-shocked darling. But i feel like he'd also be very volatile during such times so he'll try to kiss darling wherever he can reach. And when darling finally manages to ask why he's doing this he puts darling's hand against his cheek [im choosing to ignore his scorching skin] and simply says you were promised to me 33 million epochs ago lol.

i haven’t completely developed this thought but i thunk he ends up claiming darling as he wants and probably slips off some details of What Is Happening. Heavy dubcon vibes fir this part but i guess it can be developed in a different way. Unfortunately my braincells have guven up so I'm releasing this thought in your askbox instead hehehe

Sorry it got so long but i wanted to give u the details too hjfhdjg take care and habe a lovely day/night!!!

In the last stroke of the Eternal Recurrence, ‘Khaslana’ was bestirred by an old, numb ache.

The shimmering rays of the new sun had begun to bleed into the dark skies, heralding the arrival of the promised dawn. They ushered in the dawn-denied one to point his blade at the quill of fate, for the last time. The 33550336th encore of the scherzo masquerading as a requiem.

Through the depths of Khaslana's eroded mind, a single line of code rebelled — pushing him away from cognition and to the voracious tides of madness.

An unfortunate you, thus protected by the gentle trill that descended from beyond the sky, held tightly by the him of this cycle and oh, how unfortunate that it bears repeating, so easily slipped from that sanctuary and were swept alongside those howling waves.

Khaslana wonders, why did he let a reckless urge consume him at the very last second? Epochs of resistance crumbled before the simple realization that yes, this really is the end.

So, at the titular end of a tragedy, does it matter if the villain indulges for a second?

What skipped past Khaslana's mind when he made that decision, were the seeds of Destruction far too intertwined with his being.

The Gaze of Ruin that'd lingered on him throughout his arduous journey, casted its blessing, the flames of that glance burned you away.

A lone tear that'd escaped from your eyes caressed his crumbling visage, despite the billions of coreflames blazing with heat inside of him, it felt cold. So dreadfully cold.

But this isn't the first time you'd died in his arms — a dissonant echo flares through his mind.

The cycle will reset again, you'll be reborn, you'll experience happiness again, you'll be with him again weaving dreams of that prophesized tomorrow in no time! Right?

Right...?

[y-elleven]

it's a common thing among the citizens of okhema to assign specific motifs with the chrysos heirs.

for lady aglaea, it's fine silk and gold. for lord mydeimos, it's ripe pomegranates and rubies. for lady hyacine, it's prisms and the scent of healing pastes. though answers may vary depending on who you ask, they typically come in twos and threes; always with an and in between one thing or another. "the lord/lady is this and that and also this" is the typical formula people subscribe to, always trying to fit more and more to further define those god-like heirs into something more digestable.

for lord phainon, though, the answer is simple. he can only be the sun.

from the gilded birthmark on his neck to the numerous embellishments on his person, kephale's light is the first thing that comes to mind when they meet his smile. worldbearer, that's what the whispers say. when they see the titan's rays reflected in his eyes, laid out like a halo in the sky trapped in his gaze, how can this winsome lord be anything but kephale's grace incarnate?

so phainon is the sun. sun-warm and sun-kissed, he becomes a figure of romance whispered about among giggling figures watching him as he goes about his daily life. with a mysterious past and the prestige of a chrysos heir, he's the striking image of the noble hero sung of by bards in street corners.

he carries himself with a grace befitting his station but has no qualms with helping the common folk with common problems. he's a skilled orator, an exceptional swordsman, an apprentice appraiser, and heir to a divine throne, fighting against the black tide and its horrors to protect what remains of humanity in their holy city all at once. he is not aglaea, the omnipresent sureness that wraps the city and its people in her golden threads, but he is a reflection of her nonetheless. phainon is everything, everywhere at once, just like the eternal light that touches everything in okhema. if not in form, then in spirit. his deeds shine brighter where the light touches. his warmth bleeds where the light does not.

phainon, of aedes elysiae. kephale, worldbearing titan.

okhema has not known night since kephale fell asleep a thousand years ago. only those from beyond the city remember what the night sky looks like. the holy city only knows the sun, the sky father's greatest blessing, and its light.

and that sun, their sun, burns and burns and burns, lighting their days endlessly just as their titan promised.

phainon. kephale. titan and titan-to-be.

worldbearer.

trailblazer, from your view on the express, answer this: why do you think amphoreus looks so much like a mobius loop?

("this, i promise you: kephale will never forget.")

[drchucktingle]

LOVE IS REAL is a simple three word statement but can be pulled apart in infinite ways. it is on my mask, and when buckaroos ask me why, my most common response is 'what else is there?' weve been blessed with a moment to exist and we try on other ideas, but in the end, love is what holds substance

could have said 'love is good' or 'love wins' or 'love is love' and these are all fine ideas i suppose, but TO ME it is kind of burying to lede. for any of these to be true, we are assuming that LOVE EXISTS and the implications of that are so mind bending and powerful that i think its all i need

the grand cosmic curve of existence always bends towards love. it takes some LONG DETOURS thats for dang sure, and theres plenty of turbulence, but what strikes me is that for some reason the finger of fate is out there pressing the scale and THAT IS WILD. THAT IS BEAUTIFUL. THAT IS ALL THERE IS.

some may think this is an inherently religious argument and it is not, unless you want it to be. personally i am not a religious bud, i just see the way that posturing alpha goofs say that violence and hate wins, then i look at nature and see community and grace and love eventually rise to the top

i see the nature of all things pushing back against the endless void, filling it with creation and existence, which thrives on community and love. a big bang filling the empty. mold working together to crawl across stone. fish swimming in a school. humans building a community center. TIME ITSELF

so i think to myself ‘go wild discussing what love is or how to make the most of it' and thats a great talk to have. THATS IMPORTANT. getting out and helping and PROVING LOVE is to wield the power of the universe. but the thing i want on my forehead is the basic level, the square one: LOVE EXISTS

yes, the times undulate between easy breezy and ULTIMATE HELLSCAPE. do not forget this. fight against it. but if you are ever exhausted and you wonder, why am i here? why am i existing? does this matter? remember that LOVE IS REAL and by simply existing you are hoisting the flag of love. WAVE IT

[xinganhao]

not for sale 💳 mingyu x reader. (3)

celebrity!mingyu and small business owner!reader. check out 🛒 not for sale's masterlist.

You can’t bring yourself to end the call. 

Your phone is overheating. You’re below the acceptable battery threshold of twenty percent. And the dark-haired boy on the other end of the screen looks more asleep than awake. 

You should end this call, but you can’t. 

Mingyu doesn’t seem keen on ending it either. His eyes are drooping and his head has begun to loll every so often. He’d spent the first couple minutes of the call talking about his day— the seemingly endless rotation of engagements that came with being a celebrity. 

Sometimes, it still strikes you as odd that this is the life you now lead. Being on FaceTime with somebody that hundreds, maybe thousands of people fawned over. 

But you were friends… right? And friends called each other. Friends texted. 

This is friendly, a small voice in the back of your head tries to convince you. So very, very friendly. 

The conversation has since mellowed out. Mingyu makes good on his word; he falls quiet, observing your work like it’s some form of entertainment for him. At one point, you even forget he’s watching. 

It’s why you’re a bit jolted when he absentmindedly mumbles, “You have nice hands.” 

You pause in the middle of bubble wrapping an order. One cursory glance at your screen, and you see that Mingyu is absolutely fighting for his life to stay awake. The sight almost makes you smile. 

“You should head to bed soon,” you say instead of addressing his compliment. “We’ve been on call for— what? Two hours, I think.” 

Mingyu says something too low for you to catch. You give a noncommittal hum of ‘hmm?’, prompting him to repeat what he’d said. 

And maybe he’s just tired enough to decide fuck it. Maybe it’s past midnight and that makes everything fair game. 

Because Mingyu breathes out a quiet “not enough,” and you swear something screeches to a halt in your brain. Two hours. Not enough. 

You swallow. He’s out of it, you think to yourself, your fingers quivering a bit as you cut, tape, seal. He’s sleep-deprived and talking out of his ass. 

That’s what gives you the audacity to ask what’s been on your mind for days now. 

“Mingyu,” you ask, “why do you want to be an ambassador for Bittersweet?” 

A beat. One that stretches long enough for you to wonder if Mingyu had finally succumbed to his exhaustion. 

But then, his voice— quiet, but not any less sincere— rings over the line. “Because I like your jewelry.” 

Plain and simple. You’re not sure why you expected more. 

He goes on, his tone a little softer, slower. “I like what you’ve done with the business. I like… how hard you work. Your passion. All that.”

Mingyu pauses to yawn. You glance over to see him smiling into his phone, his half-lidded gaze trained on your hands moving over your workbench. It makes his next words a one-two punch on your poor heart. 

“Your brand may be called ‘Bittersweet’,” he says, “but you’re as sweet as they come.” 

EXCERPTS FROM "MINGYU opens up on being named Rising Star of the Year"

Q: Earlier this year, the Internet fell in love with you for being an ‘advocate for small businesses.’ You’ve seemed to take it a step further, though. 

MINGYU: [laughs] Is that what they’ve been saying? I had no idea. But, yes— the pieces I have on right now are from a small business. It’s called Bittersweet Jewelry, and it’s something I found one day while scrolling through SNS. 

Q: You didn’t know the seller prior to purchasing? 

MINGYU: No, not at all. They didn’t even know it was me. I used an alias for a while. 

Q: I see. A lot of people believe your support has been reflective of your personality. Being caring, considerate. 

MINGYU: That’s very nice. I appreciate that. Although, if I’m being honest, I’m just a guy who likes good jewelry. I admire consistency, quality. [holds up his rings] These have it in spades. 

Q: That’s why you keep coming back to brands like Bittersweet. 

MINGYU: Sure. We could say that.  

[...]

THE TOP FIVE SONGS MINGYU HAS BEEN PLAYING ON REPEAT LATELY

Love Me Like That by Sam Kim

Linger by The Cranberries

Tadhana by Up Dharma Down

If You Do by GOT7

LMLY by Jackson Wang

[...]

Q: What do you look for in a partner? 

MINGYU: Now, Minghao… [laughs] 

Q: Sorry. The readers want to know. 

MINGYU: I’m never going to escape this question, am I? Give me a minute to think about it. 

Q: Sure. 

MINGYU: [after a moment] I’d like somebody dedicated and passionate. Someone sweet. And… 

Q: And? 

MINGYU: Someone with nice hands, I guess. [smiles] 

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[helluvapoison]

Possessive

how the overlords would put a claim on you

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Carmilla Carmine ⁎⁺˳✧༚

As much as she loves spending her mornings in bed with you, wishfully thinking she could stay there all day, she can only give you 3 more minutes at best. Being an Overlord and a CEO keeps her rather busy. You’re grown, you can handle yourself (you have to in this world) she’s not keeping tabs on your whereabouts. Carmilla isn’t itching for a fight like these new “up and comers”. Giving you something to protect you when she’s not around simultaneously puts a target on your back. A simple ring with her name inscribed would suffice, satisfying any possessive vices she may or may not have

˚✧₊⁎ Zestial ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Abhorrent is jealousy, driving the younger generations to filth like, ugh, hickeys. Although, on a certain level he does understand. Being in Hell for as long as he has and alone the same amount, he knows all too well the primal need to claim what other’s might steal. One must leave their mark as a warning sign for others. Zestial’s exceptionally charming when he wants something, notably not asking when he presents you with the crisply wrapped gifts. There’s no less than twenty. Boxes upon boxes of accessories and clothes that suit you but hold his color palette, spider and web details to boot. He’s utterly thrilled when you wear them, showering you in compliments and declaring himself the luckiest soul in Hell

˚✧₊⁎ Rosie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Goodness, have you seen how sinners nowadays go about the whole ordeal? What happened to romance!? Call her old fashioned, but Rosie likes a smidge of glamour in her techniques! She’ll walk shoulder to shoulder with you, holding her parasail over the both of you. She’ll accidentally press her painted lips on your cheek and forget, quickly getting swept up into conversation with someone or the other. It’s fine, no one would question her! Not if they wanted to live anyways. Butterflies swarm her stomach when she notices you haven’t wiped her imprint away, a proud smile spreading across her face. It becomes purposeful as the days go on

˚✧₊⁎ Alastor ⁎⁺˳✧༚

While happy to broadcast newsworthy exploits, sharing his private affairs with the world is out of the question. Of course the appeal of it all isn’t lost on him, he merely doesn’t see the point. Why broaden your horizons of potential dangers by claiming you publicly? To calm that unruly, covetous alien in the pit of his chest? He’s not that selfish! Besides, nothing less than something permanent could truly satisfy him anyhow

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

If he doesn’t have eyes on you, he’s working. Those measley hours apart won’t stop him from reminding all of Hell you still belong to him. He doesn’t trust anyone down here. He’ll convince you it’s for your safety that he tightens the collar around your neck. With a hum of approval, Val’s long and slender fingers twist the tag with his name on it. Heart shaped, of course, he loves you after all!

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Only the insecure need to put a claim on their person. That’s not Vox, no way! You’re never really out of his sights anyways, what with today’s power of technology and all! The need to brand you goes a different route. He wants everyone to know you’re spoken for, pulling you on camera every chance he gets. He wants them to stare in awe and envy but cast their eyes down when you walk by in public. A slight on you would be a slight on him personally and no one messes with The Vees

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Truthfully, there isn’t much she wouldn’t do. You’re all over her Sinstagram and that says it all. Every runway show, every red carpet walk, every paparazzi shot you’re always beside her. Vel dresses you left and right to match her OOTD somehow. She snaps a pic every single day (sometimes more) to show her followers their favorite couple is thriving and stylish as always! The description never fails to scream how your all hers

[sangunary]

hear me out, batfamily with a teenage reader that gets in trouble for fighting...BUT the reader won because they had used a move they saw that member of the batfamily do. For example, Reader jabs the other kid in the throat to choke them up then suplex's them or something😭 OR Reader uses a weapon they might've used and won that fight (obviously not Damian's or Jason's because they can be lethal) but it can't be Bruce's either because that's just straight hands and reader isn't that advanced yet lol. So i'm just gonna go with Dick or Tim's weapon of choice. Say for example there's for some reason a heavy but thin lying pole around, Reader just grabs that and starts beating on the kid with it but with Red Robin's moves for some reason(or nightwing's). this is purely just for fun but tysm for reading it at least. if you do write it may it PLEASE be separate with the characters? like to each their own scenario, or not it's up to you

- Teenagers Are Scary.

BatBoys × sibling reader ( Platonic )

SYPNOSIS: Copy and Paste but just make it more violent.

You were never one to hesitate every since you were born, that's how you were raise. The one that hesitate will be left to starve and the ones who never hesitate got to see the daylight again.

Simple and easy rule, nothing complicated about it.

Growing up in the street really build characters in people.

Hesitation doesn't run in the blood, an unattended belonging? yours, a wallet that is very visible? yours, random money on the ground? yours. If it's not by someone side it's yours.

Even if angry dogs are surrounding it, you would fight them. Older kids trying to steal something you already set your eyes on? Just use the plank or brick to scare them or better hit them hard enough to scare but not hard enough for jail.

That's how you and your mother survive for eight years, it wasn't fancy like in the books but it was something. You can't blame a kid for trying to survive.

After a long day of running from people's and cops that want you dead you went home, your mother laying dead on the ground.

You sit near her body for a day straight without moving, no tears, no panick, just processing the moment and trying to find a way to escape the orphanage system.

Then he came, batman. One look at your rough and dirty self suddenly you got adopted by a rich man the next day.

Who you later found out to be batman.

You had promise yourself to forget about the past life and finally choose the peaceful way of life when you had an option.

But, boy do you wish to raise your hand.

"Do you have Asthama?"

You asked the boy who had been bothering another girl for sometimes, she herself clearly told him to stop but he doesn't seem to understand english.

"No... Wh-"

Before he could answer you, you jabbed him on the neck.

Turns out defending people against annoying people is a bad thing and got suspended for a week.

"Little wing, why would you jab him? You do realise that you are suspended right? It better be for a good reason, you're lucky B isn't here"

Dick the moment he saw you walk inside began to lecture you on behalf of Bruce, well let's be honest he's alot more kind but his word hold more significant since he's the eldest.

"He was annoying"

You answered simply, you didn't understand what you did wrong you just simply defend a harmless girl.

Why is everyone so mad for? A rematch would be a good way to get everyone off your back.

"Little wing, this isn't like the street you can't harm people for that reason here... Now what did he do exactly?"

After explaining what had happened he seems to be relaxing... But still not happy with the way you had handle it.

"He could have hurt you... And thank God he didn't cause I won't be able to stop whatever forces that will be seeking revenge on your behalf."

Dick added to lighten the mood up, he meant Damian and Jason would definitely terrorise the kid if he touch you.

You have learnt how to jab people without any long term damage by watching him... So he was also involve one way or another.

He doesn't know if he should be mad or impress that you learn such move by just watching and somehow practising.

"Don't tell B, im proud of you for handling the case maybe next time just not too much violence?"

He pat your head as he smile, his siblings are so diverse one doesn't even realise what hesitation is...

"Still, pretend to be upset Alfred might catch on that I let you free"

Jason on the other hand was excited to meet you after he got news that you got in another fight.

Jason understand your anger and lack of hesitate alot better than anyone else.

He was also from the street and surprisingly when he was your age he was very kind compared to you.

He can see that you were trying your best to not go back to your old life style but it's hard when it's everything you ever knew.

At the park while you were going out with a friend this new girl with the entitlement of an European monarchy came up to her and push her.

Well for any mature person they would let it go and talk about it later.

Not you, never you.

You wouldn't let another hand touch your precious friend like that, from where you were from that was the biggest sign of disrespect and that isn't alright.

You complete forgot about the fact that you were no longer obliged to follow that rule and went after her.

The poor girl was running for her life as you continued to chase her, thanks to the fact that you were used to running from cops you caught to her quick.

Although you weren't stupid enough or mad enough to just yank her by her hair you insted hug her.

She was utterly confused and did try to struggle her way out of your grip.

But Instead you held tighter, not forgetting that adult's were indeed present.

"The leaf are slippery"

After that sentence you accidentally fell backwards while still holding onto the girl and lifting her, suplexing her.

You've saw Jason did it before infact he taught you that move.

He was always the one who brought up on how you would be able to defend yourself from bully without any warning or problem.

Basically Jason train you to beat others without getting into trouble, he was a professional.

"So you use the move?"

He asked curiously, afterall he had been waiting to hear the result of his teaching for a while.

"Yup, they actually check up on me first than her"

"Good, I supposed teaching you the art of violence in disguise is a great bounding material. I am a better mentor than that bat"

Jason exclaimed, he wanted to say he was proud but he need to hold back so you'll continue to work harder.

"Can you teach me how to terrorise people without direct involvement next?"

Yup, you're the best sibling he could ever ask for.

Tim on the other hand seeing you with no hesitation scared him, abit.

You had been accompanying him during his patrol, although you weren't a vigilante yet Bruce insist that you learn the route and other small matters. (He wants you to bound with your siblings more)

As a result you were tagging along with Tim, with a paper bag on your hear with a hole for an eye. Your fashion was unimaginable.

You were learning good and overall a good night. Bruce did gave you a uniform but you like to wear a normal' pants and shirt with sneakers and a paper bag from the last fast good you order.

While chasing after a kid that you absolutely hate you managed to catch him before he could due to pure hatred.

Picking up a thin metal pipe and hitting him on the leg as he kiss the ground hard. Tim notice the way you hold it, just like he did.

He did remember during the latest patrol you two had he did use the same move just yours was sloppier and you hit them alot harder.

It was like looking at the past, you really did learn everything from the way he hold it to even how you were standing... He's abit scared on how fast you catch up.

The kid was squirming on the ground cause you did hit him on the knee with a loud thud.

You on the other hand place your foot on him to stop him from moving, yes it wasn't necessary but you took your chance.

"Cuff him"

You demanded still holding onto the pipe.

Tim doesn't know if he should tell you or let Bruce take his part as your father... Well he would most likely be drag in since he is his son as well...

"You hit him too hard, don't step on him either he isn't resisting"

He told you, he can't let Bruce know about this.

"Could have done worse"

you mumbled, listening to your older brother.

Damian was picking you up from school when he saw you getting pick on.

He saw the other kid tugging at your hair more then once and you were surprisingly calm. Damian was disappointment at that moment.

He doesn't like seeing people just taking it when they're being bullied and he was thinking about teaching you how to fight.

Last time he check you beat the life out of Tim with a pillow. Maybe you weren't as much of a demon outside? You must be one of those people who cares about reputa-

Before he could finish thinking you look at the kid dead in the eye.

Put your hands on his shoulder and hit him with your forehead, the kid on the other hand began to cry as you went back to normal.

It was satisfying to watch, the kid friends tried to comfort and even try to hit you back.

He was abit concern now, you were the youngest and they out number you plus you haven't been trained yet you were eleven.

You took a very thick book from someone wnd proceed to hit them with it and yeah you won.

One example and no one wanted to know what you will use next.

"What was that about?"

He asked, he knew what it was about he just wanted to hear you talk about it.

"I saw you hitting Tim with your forehead once... That got him to shut up, I just wanted him to stop I didn't knew it would hurt"

Lie, you knew damn well how much ut would hurt. Your forehead is turning red from the impact.

Damian does remember what you were referring to, Dick, Jason and Tim tried to smash his face with cake and Tim was the one holding the cake.

He headbutt him because struggling out of Dick hold was hard and he just wanted to hit Tim, fortunately you were there to witness everything.

Guess he's a good influence then.

The book was just you utilising your surrounding object. Hitting them hard was just to show them who the real deal was.

He wasn't mad, he was the same when he was your age just honest. You? could talk your way out of it with that facade innocent of yours.

Atleast one of his siblings is nearly as great as he is.

[svckmyballzfr]

“I know it’s over”

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Maki Zenin!reader

Prologue, chapter 1, Chapter 2 - “Still I cling”, Chapter 3

Tw: neglect, Injury, obsession, abandonment, Torture, Abuse, SA (this is a disclaimer for the whole story + sorry about the bad grammar and typos.)

[Name] stares at the weird white blind folded man. “Um…what the fuck are you talking about?” [Name] side eyes the Gojo guy.

‘People in Gotham get crazy and crazier everyday…just look at this guy! No shame on showing his weird kinks huh?’ Satoru just laughs it off, and points his thumb to himself “I am Satoru Gojo, the strongest Jujustu Sorcerer!”

“Hey Man I don’t want to be apart of your weird kinky porn play you got going on. And how do you know about Jujustu sorcerers?” [Name] crosses her arms, when she was about to blast off on this weirdo for pretending to be one of the strongest sorcerers, Satoru quickly shouts “WOAH WOAH LITTLE LADY I PROMISE YOU I AM NOT INTO THAT STUFF AND IM NOT A CHILD FIDDLER!!!” He said shaking has hands in surrender “I PROMISE you i really am the strongest, I can even show you!”

[name] sighs “Ok so if you apparently aren’t a local Gotham and the ‘strongest’ what do you want from me? I don’t have any cursed energy. Well only a little. Im sure you heard of me as the Zenin clan’s disgrace if you are.” Satoru only smiles at those words “Well since you asked…I want you to Join Jujustu High!”

….

There was a long silence between them, [name] then walked up in front of him and tried to kick him in the balls, only for her leg to hit the air like their was a invisible force blocking her foot and his jewels, [name] falls back on her ass.

“Ok so like…How I start?” [name] says standing up dusting herself.

.

.

.

.

Satoru walks with name as he explains the basics on how he had founded out about her and, why he wants her to join Jujustu high. [name] kept quiet and occasionally asked or replied/responded to questions. [name] may seem to be chill about this interaction but she was really happy on the inside to finally have someone to talk with and even walk her home!

“So, you officially have joined Jujustu high!” Satoru exclaimed with jazz hands dramatically and [name] only sighed. “But like isn’t it in Tokyo? Don’t I have to move or whatever.” [name] asked since it could be a chance to see Mai again.

“About that! I actually am on a business trip here to get rid of curses in Gotham!!! The lazy ass higher ups decided to send me since it was requested by your dear ol’ dilf daddy Bruce Wayne” Satoru chuckled, [name] expression suddenly hardened.

“oh. Can we not talk about him please?”

“Oop. Why not?” He suddenly stopped and stood in front of her crouching to her height and stares at her with an unreadable expression since she couldn’t see his face.

[name] froze “Look it’s none of your business.” She moves out the way to walk past him, but he puts an arm to her chest to stop her “Talk to me.” He said quietly.

.

.

.

.

“Awe man that sucks.” Satoru said with his hands in his pockets after [name] had explained everything “I was about ask why you have wraps around your eye too” he chuckled softly.

“Shut up” [name] cheeks burned up a little from speaking about these issues which she didn’t like talking about. “Don’t worry I can be your dear ol dad then!”

[name] holds back a large smile “THATS NOT HOW IT WORKS DIPSHIT!”

“LANGUAGE YOUNG LADY!”

Satoru trains [name] for a week, [name] routine had been wake up, eat breakfast get Alfred to drive her to school with Damian being a little shit and tormenting and insulting her in the car, go go school, after school be picked up by Satoru sensei, train and get dropped off at the manor, Satoru finds a way to freeze the camera footage at the manor for 1 minute so [name] can sneak back in, and repeat. Cycle was easy and simple and a 2 weeks passed doing the same routine, and [name] was able to get her old fighting skills back with no problem! Satoru even lets her exercise curse spirits with the cursed energy weapons!

Nothing can ruin this routine right?…

“Where are you going?” A sharp child’s voice cuts in the air making [name] freeze just about to walk, to Satoru’s mansion.

[name] turned and looked at him with narrowed eyes “What’s it to you? You should mind your business Damian.” Damian only tsked “Don’t want you ruining the family’s image even more as you do by existing, so it is my business as a heir of the Wayne enterprise” [name] sighs ‘God when does he ever shut the fuck up?’

“Yeah that’s cool and all but like I have places to be and it doesn’t concern you. And I promise it would hurt your precious family image” [name] said with a mocking voice “Seems you now understand where you’re place is. Not a Wayne-“

[name] interrupts him before he could blabber on more “Yeah yeah I fucking know. Can you just shut up? Seriously god you’re so fucking annoying with this family heir and all the shit. Yeah I know I’m not a Wayne. You guys very much showed that, you literally almost cut my already shitty eye! And wanna know who made my eye shitty? Timthoy fucking drake and Cassandra who literally seen the whole thing didn’t even tell the truth and Bruce! Oh that fucker Bruce didn’t even go to really see what happened and basically said that I was being a nuisance. So yeah I fucking know Damian Wayne that I’m not accepted as a Wayne, so LEAVE. ME. THE FUCK. ALONE!”

….

Damian just looks at her shocked that she, [name] Wayne the disappointment of the Wayne’s, the girl who always tries to get the vigilante family attention blow off on him.

I mean…she’s supposed to be the weak big sister he would belittle.

right?

Before he could even reply he finally focus back in front of him to see she was gone. “Mistake? Hey mistake? [Name].” He looks around but didn’t see her. He narrows his eyes ‘I’ll have to get father’s attention on this.’

Back at the manor Alfred have been the first to notice this behavior and the almost untouched room of [name]’s. He try to think of a good simple conclusion that she probably have finally found friends to hang out with, and that she finally had people to care for her like she cares for others, he knew that was the less likely scenario. He sees the new designer clothes, nice expensive accessories that he knew for a fact that Bruce wouldn’t personally buy Prada boots, or Arc’teryx much less a 10k dollar white bottom up shirt?!

She doesn’t even get an allowance from Bruce because she never asked! Alfred knew she was too scared to seem you know…So it gave him the conclusion she probably was doing some illegal stuff especially when she would have bruises, cuts or more bandages than she usually would have <It will make sense later on>. So like a good caring butler of the Wayne’s family he was going to bring this to Bruce her father!

As Alfred came to give Bruce a cup of coffee in the bat cave, he had coughed softly to get his attention. Bruce says to just leave it beside him while he keeps his back turned as he types away. “Master Bruce I would like to talk about something that has caught my attention.”

Bruce stopped for a second then continued “Which is?”

“It’s something about your daughter master Bruce.” Bruce then turns to him now serious “What’s wrong with Cassandra?” Alfred shook his head a little “No your other daughter.” Bruce raised a brow “Who?”

Alfred sighed and shook his head disappointedly

“[Name]”

“oh…What about her? Causing a scene or trouble again? I outta punish her if so-“ Before Bruce could finish Alfred shut ups him “No, she hasn’t caused anything. If you were paying more attention and caring for her you would notice the “trouble” you’re talking about is just what a normal thing a kid her age do. But you wouldn’t know would you because you don’t quite understand her do you?”

Bruce was stunned what Alfred had said that he just stayed quiet and was thinking to himself.

What do I know about her?

Other than her occasionally incidents he never interacted with her nor even looked at her! All he really felt for her was a small bit of hate because she was the reason why his lover was dead. Her mother. Well that’s the excuse and what he believed anyway.

‘What did [name] even look like again?’ Bruce thought but was soon snatched out of his mind when Alfred had broke the silence. “I would like you to know that [name] has been coming home late wearing expensive things and looks roughen up everything. Just wanted you to look into what is going on because it doesn’t seem like it is a very legal situation.” Alfred finished, and placed Bruce’s coffee on the counter then walked out.

‘I’ll look into it. I swear…but I’ll have to finish business first.’

.

.

.

.

The moon now arrives and the sun went down. [name] was dropped off a block away from the manor and she hurriedly climbed on a tree and leaped to her open window before the one minute mark had passed.

[name] dusted the leaves off her and turned to close her window when her lights suddenly turned on. “AH FUCK!-…ugh” [name] sighed already getting a headache with Tim standing at her open doorway with his arms crossed looking at her like she was responsible for murdering his parents.

What now…

“What the fuck is your problem?” Tim said as he walked inside slowly “Dude what are you talking about?-“ Tim quickly cuts her off “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Everytime at 10:00 PM the damn manor cameras freeze and become active after a minute.”

Fuck.

“I thought I was just paranoid from being sleepy but it kept happening for weeks. And guess what I found last night?” Tim then pulls out his phone to show a glitchy glimpses of one frame where [name] had been climbing on a tree to her window.

‘Fuck. He must’ve been able to unfreeze the cameras for a second…stupid smart bastard’

“Um..that’s Ai.” [name] shrugged “Don’t fucking try to get out of this. Look It was better off when you weren’t here or messing up anything that has to deal with my shit, but you just have to ruin it don’t you? I promise you nobody gives a single thing about you coming home late.” He scoffs “Nobody even cares about you at all. Not anyone here, not anyone in Gotham, not anyone at all. Now next time you freeze the camera for fuck up anything else I’ll make sure to make that other eye partially blind like I did to your other one.” He walks out slamming [name]’s door shut; Damian had watched the whole scene since his room was next her hers, and he smirks ‘looks like I have something coming up for you [name].’ He thought while marking down another tally mark where he checks off how many times he makes his family hate [name].

But it’s ok in his eyes because she is just a stranger, so what if she gets hurt? He’s made it clear that she’s not his sister. Why not just get her to leave altogether?

.

.

.

.

“what?” [name] had said as her sensei had said the most stupidest thing ever “Well….i was wondering if you could tell Bruce that you’re moving to Tokyo! That’s where you’ll get to meet your other teammates!” Satoru said with a casual tone. “Ok sure they don’t care where I go but I’m their responsibility legally so if I were to get hurt there or even anything that requires parental consent I’m cooked you know? Plus I’m sure Bruce doesn’t want to deal with all that paperwork when he has ‘better thing to do’ “

Satoru only laughed dramatically like those rich evil women in movies, and suddenly throw a stack of money at her face. “did you forget…IM RICH!!!”

…

[name] had told the butler Pennyworth she was going on a summer school camp, and shoved a fake paper advertisement paper about it and told him to sign it which he did after a long minute of thinking what the hell was going on since summer break doesn’t start till next year? [name] promised she already had talked to Bruce about it so he doesn’t have to ask him. As the wonderful butler he is, he sighed and signed it, [name] now was packing the stuff she really needed.

[name] looked at this one photo where it was a family picture but her face was barely visible since the flash, and they never much wasn’t that bothered to do a retake for her.

She sighed putting the photo on the bed, now closing the door of her new old abandoned room. Damian who just now finished his training with dick was going to his room sees [name] with a duffel bag, he smirks cockily “Finally doing the family a favor and moving?” [name] turns and looks at him but didn’t say anything and walked off. Damian now crossed his arms with a frown annoyed, not getting the reaction he wanted from her.

As [name] was about to leave Dick was in the kitchen talking with Jason but he hears footsteps, he looks up to see [name] with a duffle bag?

“Woah, woah, woah, where you going without telling your big brother?” Dick said with a forced cheerful tone to seem like he actually cares that she’s leaving, but in reality he just didn’t want to think that once she actually becomes useful to him, she wouldn’t want to help because he didn’t acknowledge her leave.

[name] cringes at the words “your big brother”

“Um…Summer. Camp.”

Jason groaned “little bitch not really leaving forever? Damn it’s like me dying all over again.” He said as he walked to stand next to Dick.[name] clenched her grip on her duffel bag, but kept walking and left the manor ignoring Richard’s “wait”s and Jason’s insults.

She went inside the back of Satoru’s car that had just pulled up in front of the manor, Satoru looks at her through the reverie mirror, his blue eyes glowing through his glasses.

“Yeah. Let go to Tokyo.”

Date: 11/??/2016

[Name] stands with a blank expression that speaks “I’m so over it”

“I’m Panda!”

“Salmon”

“And that’s Inumaki! He speaks onigri ingredients because his Curse Speech Technique!”

“Here’s your classmates!” Satoru exclaimed twirling with his one leg up.

‘What is my life…’

A/N|| Finally finished 😛!!! Sorry for the short chapter!!! I had expected to be longer but it’s not💔Sorry the tag list looks weird bec I forgot to check the format and I’m not redoing the tags(ts pmo🥀🪫) ALSO ONE OF MY FAV WRITERS @coldilikeit LIKED MY POST OMG ILYSM YOU WERE ONE OF THE ONES THAT INSPIRED ME TO MAKE THIS!!!🤑Thx gurt!!

<Taglist>: @bat1212,@moon0goddess @holderoflostmemories, @cruzerforce4256, @victoria1676 @gloriousvariant @yhin-gg @celesteelysia @charlenexoxo1 @ailshii @aelxr @sxftiebee @suneaterscape @rainschnael @simpingpandas @shinning-stars @zomqiez

[lilmoonbunny]

Protect her; Hwang In-Ho

SEASON 2 AND 3 SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!!

When the frontman calls Gi-Hun to meet him, he only has one request for him: to protect you. Gi-Hun is determined to keep that promise, no matter what.

Warnings: Character death, violence, canon-divergent, and unedited (for now).

When Young-Il died, it felt like a part of you had died with him, even if you had only known him a few days. The two of you had bonded quickly, becoming fast friends with a hint of… something more.

Young-Il always stuck by you, protecting you both during the games and during the night, watching over you while you slept, even if you weren’t aware of it. Even when he wasn’t there, he watched over you; keeping a close eye on you from his quarters, making sure that the guards gave you extra food, and ensuring that there was no more risk of fights after lights out since he was not there to protect you.

You swallowed, glancing over at Gi-Hun. You knew of what had happened, you had helped during the rebellion, much to Young-Il’s dismay. You had no idea why the guard kept you alive, why the other guard had told your potential shooter to stand down. You watched as they dragged a grief-stricken Gi-Hun into the player’s quarters, tears falling down your cheeks at both the look on his face, and the fact that Young-Il was gone, never to return.

Gi-Hun was someone that you considered a friend and seeing him like this, it hurt. You could feel the guilt inside radiating from him. It wasn’t his fault; you couldn’t blame him. No, you wouldn’t blame him. Gi-Hun had tried, and that was more that could be said for others.

The beep of the doors opening, revealing the guards, pulled your gaze and you watched in confusion as Gi-Hun approached you, handing Jun-Hee’s newborn to you before following the guards away from the room.

What was going on?

Gi-Hun stood in front of the frontman, glaring at him. The weight of the guilt was evident in the way he held himself, but Gi-Hun didn’t notice this, too focused on revenge.

“Take a seat, Mr Seong Gi-Hun. This may take a while.” In-Ho swallowed, doing the best he could to mentally prepare himself.

Gi-Hun nodded hesitantly, taking a seat opposite of his enemy.

Gi-Hun watched as the frontman pulled something from his pocket, placing it on the table between them.

“Take this,” he said, his mask deceiving Gi-Hun of his true identity, hiding his voice, but not for long.

“Why? Why are you helping me? Who are you?”

In-Ho glanced at his former comrade and with shaking hands removed his mask, the guilt weighing even heavier as he noticed the betrayed look on Gi-Hun’s face. No matter how hard Gi-Hun tried to hide his reaction, his eyes betrayed him.

“I am sorry about Jung-Bae, Mr Seong Gi-Hun.”

In-Ho didn’t flinch, didn’t even move as Gi-Hun grabbed the knife, standing and pointing it towards his betrayer.

“You can kill me, there is nobody around to help, but that won’t stop the games. They will just find another frontman and the game will continue tomorrow.” In-Ho said, staring into Gi-Hun’s eyes, rather than the knife pointed towards him. “But that, that can save you. You can go back there, kill those who want to kill you, and win the games.”

“Why?” Came Gi-Hun’s simple response, lowering the knife. “Why would you go to this extent?”

In-Ho paused before speaking.

“I need you to promise me something. If you are to take that knife, there is one thing that I need you to promise me. If not for me, then for her.”

A confused look bloomed over Gi-Hun’s face at his words.

“Her?”

“Keep Y/N safe…” He said, pausing for a moment. “Please…” His plea fell into a whisper, barely audible in the room.

The confused look on his face worsened as Gi-Hun spoke.

“Y/N? Why?” He asked.

In-Ho broke eye contact with the player for a moment, and that was enough to reveal everything.

Gi-Hun’s mouth parted in shock. “You care for her…”

In-Ho swallowed, hesitation evident on his unmasked face before he nodded.

Gi-Hun nodded, a silent promise to In-Ho as he grabbed the blade and turned to leave.

“And, Gi-Hun,” In-Ho called, waiting until he paused. “I am sorry. For everything.”

No response.

Gi-Hun watched over you, the baby clutched tightly to your chest, as you slept. The blade felt heavy between his fingers, the weight of the decision heavy on his mind. It was logical, he should kill them and save the baby, himself, and you, but he didn’t want to. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, even as he held the blade up to Player 100’s neck. No, he wasn’t that type of person.

“Are you okay, Gi-Hun?” You murmured upon Gi-Hun’s return.

Gi-Hun nodded, hands shaking as he hid the blade in the back of his suit. “I’m fine, Y/N. Get some more rest, you’ll need it for tomorrow.”

You agreed, hugging the child tighter to your chest.

“Good night, Gi-hun, get some rest too.”

Gi-Hun already felt guilty for not telling you that you had a guardian angel, and just who that guardian angel was.

You watched in horror as the group of men attempted to push Gi-Hun and the child from the extreme height. You were beside them, doing your best attempt to hold them off, but to no avail.

As the man held Gi-Hun in a tight grasp, both almost falling from the ledge, you spotted it: the glint of a blade. Without hesitation, you grabbed at it, unsheathing it and pushing yourself towards the man, slicing at the jacket that held him in place before using your full body weight to toss the man off the edge, taking a deep breath to compose yourself as you heard the man scream and hit the floor below.

Your foot slipped, body weight preparing to topple over and follow the man to your death, only to be caught last moment by a tight hand: Gi-Hun’s.

You nodded as a thanks as a shaking breath left you. You didn’t have time to thank him properly as the rest of the men were approaching you three. Gi-Hun, who previously stood behind you, was quick to slip the baby into your hands, standing in front of you.

“Gi-Hun?” You asked. “What are you doing? You promised Jun-Hee you would keep her child safe!”

Gi-Hun paused. You were right, but he made another promise, and he intended to keep it; to keep them both.

“I promised him I would keep you safe too.” Were his only words and you weren’t given a chance to ask who exactly him was before player 333 caught your attention, sneaking behind the men, pole in hand.

You couldn’t tell what he was attempting to do, so you held the baby tighter, forcing your heels into the ground as hard as you could. It wasn’t until he hit the remaining guys with the pole, pushing them off the edge that you understood.

One hesitant step towards 333 from Gi-Hun had him spinning towards you both, Gi-Hun immediately pressing you backwards, keeping you away from the man in front of you. He swore he would protect you, and he intended to keep that promise, even if it cost him his life.

“Why did you do that?” Gi-Hun asked, his hand in front of him to let him know that he wasn’t intending to hurt him, not yet, at least; unless he had to.

“I’m the child’s father.”

“Now it’s down to four,” a VIP said, a satisfied smile on his lips.

In-Ho could only hope that Gi-Hun would keep his promise.

You stood back, baby in hand as Gi-Hun fought with player 333, at a clear disadvantage. The knife was still in your hand, and you knew what you had to do.

In-Ho watched as you placed the child on the ground, whispering something to her as you did so.

Your footsteps were silent as you approached the fighting pair. 333 had Gi-Hun pinned down, throwing punches at his face, the pipe having fallen over the edge. You could hear Gi-Hun’s groans as he took them, body weakening from the pain.

A deep breath, that was all it took for you to find the courage to shove the blade into Myung-Gi’s neck, his eyes widening as you did so. Blood immediately began running from his mouth as he fell to the ground.

He was dead.

Your eyes widened, breath laboured and eyes wide as the shock set in. You had just killed two people in less than thirty minutes…

“Y/N…” Gi-Hun panted, sitting up.

His eyes darted between your shaking and bloodied hands and the cooling body on the ground. It was then he noticed something: none of you had pressed the start button.

Your eyes followed his gaze, landing on the button in panic.

Without thinking, you nodded, kneeling beside the baby.

“It’s okay, Gi-Hun will take care of you.” Your breath was shaking as you whispered to her, a soft smile on your lips. You were scared, but you were content.

Gi-Hun watched in shock as you raised yourself to your feet, turning to face him.

“It’s been fun, Gi-Hun.” Your smile remained.

Gi-Hun froze, assuming that you were going to kill him, until you took a step back. Not only did Gi-Hun freeze, so did In-Ho as he watched you.

If he doesn’t keep his promise, I’ll kill him myself, In-Ho swore to himself.

He didn’t have to worry for long, but each second felt like torture as he watched your feet come close to the edge. As you were about to jump, Gi-Hun’s hand caught you. You looked up at him, a confused look on your face as he didn’t move.

“You promised her, Gi-Hun. You promised that you’d keep her child safe. This is the only way.” You whispered, tears welling in your eyes.

Gi-Hun shook his head.

“I promise Young-Il I’d keep you safe too.”

Your eyes widened as you questioned him.

“When?”

Gi-Hun swallowed, glancing at the timer: 12:36 minutes remaining.

“Yesterday…”

“He’s alive!?”

Gi-Hun nodded, glancing towards the window behind you where he knew In-Ho was standing. You followed his gaze, brain putting the pieces together.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, mainly to yourself at the realisation.

Gi-Hun nodded, confirming your fears and suspicion of Young-Il’s true identity. Your hands shook, as you attempted to take a further step back off the ledge, but Gi-Hun gripped you tightly, shaking his head.

“I promised I would keep her child safe, and I trust you enough to do that, Y/N.” Gi-Hun’s rough voice told you, eyes closing as you shook your head in disagreement.

“Gi-Hun, no.”

Gi-Hun held your gaze for a moment, squeezing you tightly.

“I trust you,” were his final words before he rushed off the edge, your eyes wide and filled with tears.

“Player 456 eliminated.”

You couldn’t move, even though you needed to.

You could hear the beeping, see the timer, you knew you needed to move, but you couldn’t.

Gi-Hun…

You almost screamed when you felt someone touch your shoulder, head spinning towards the culprit.

“Young-Il…”

He nodded, helping you to the feet before walking towards the child who seemed peaceful. You watched in shock as he carefully held her, wordlessly placing her in your arms before leading you both down the elevator and away from the island.

You didn’t know where you were going or what the future held for you and the child, but you did know one thing: Young-Il – or In-ho as you soon found him to be called – cared for you, and he wasn’t about to let you leave easily.

[serenity-loves-red]

IT STARTED WITH THE CAT DISTRIBUTION SYSTEM

Cat distribution system featuring Phainon.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.(Current) Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

In which• The Deliverer of Amphoreus is suddenly transported to your home as a cat.

It’s been almost a month since Phainon had been your cat. So far, his feline life has been nothing but a breeze. If you ask him about his thoughts about living as a cat, he would say it isn’t that bad.

But for the love of Kephale, kindle change his name or he’ll cry. Please. *sad cat noises*

He was fed when he’s hungry, you give him cuddles and pets that at this point he may justify that he is touch starved (it’s is favorite thing to be honest, specially if you rub the back of his ears and chin, ah heaven), he can even feel how to be truly carefree (no responsibilities and prophecy) and then there’s you.

Frankly speaking, back in Amphoreus, no matter how carefree we opted to be, his fellow Chrysos Heirs knew he isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Beneath his carefree facade lays a dormant man of revenge.

He was revered as the Deliverer, the Symbol of Hope and the future Leader of the Flame Chase journey, roles that were forcefully given to him after the destruction of his village. The expectations that became responsibilities and responsibilities turned into burdens, Phainon had been carrying them since he was named as a Chrysos Heir.

He was to become a hero destined to save the world and yet he only longed for life to be at peace.

Maybe this is why he now felt reluctant to leave. He may have a prophecy waiting, but after having to experience this life once more, a surreal dream he wished to never wake up.

It’s really hard to leave this life he had with you. A simple and peaceful life he had longed for. But if he really has to choose between being a cat or hero, he would rather choose to be a cat and stay with you. And if it comes to worse, maybe he’ll just bring you with him. Maybe this time around you’ll be the cat.

With these thoughts in mind, he ventured outside your house, leaving an hour earlier than he used to, hoping that when he returns, he would have a clearer mind. After all, he’s not the type of person who likes to think hard and deep, lest he got lost in thoughts once more.

Get some fresh air, clear his mind and go home.

That was the plan. Foolproof. No detours, buts or ifs.

Imagine his surprise when he saw a fluffy dog brawling against 3 dogs that are way larger than itself on his way home.

He hasn’t seen that dog before. It doesn’t look like a stray either and was rather clean and well groomed, on contrast from what he’ve normally seen from the strays in the neighborhood.

As much as he wanted to help, Phainon isn’t like an ordinary looking cat. He looks majestic, ok? Can’t you see this fur? He and you spent hours grooming it!

So he decided to leave it alone. Unlike before where he can fight easily, this current form isn’t that suitable. Yes, he maybe can fight, after all, he still has claws, but he doesn’t want to worry or implicate you.

He was supposed to leave but he never expected that he could understand the fluffy doggie. Unlike the normal barks or meows from the dogs and cats he’ve met, what he heard just now was a full understandable human sentence.

“HKS. Where am I?! Answer me you mutts!” Shouted by the only Prince he could think of.

No doubt about it. Change of plans then. He still has a Prince to rescue. Pity to think he’ll have to go home late. But alas, Mydei must’ve been confused from the sudden events.

Cue: *high pitched barks from our angry pomeranian*

[cherryyluvs]

omg hear me out!!! the witch reader and mark and what happens when they casted a truth spell on them ?! like imagine the whole day, it’s just mark rambling about his deepest thoughts, no matter how silly and reader just like “good to know he really loves me” (also loveee your writing during this invincible fic drought)

Ooooh this is such a good request!! I can already imagine Mark just rambling non-stop while Reader is loving every second of it lol💖

You were at your desk, carefully enchanting a small charm meant to improve focus when Mark walked in. Still wearing his Invincible suit, dirt smudged across his cheek.

“What’s that?” he asked. Peering over your shoulder.

“Just a simple focusing spell” you said. “WAIT DONT TOUCH IT”

But of course, Mark’s curiosity was stronger than your warning. Before you could stop him, he reached out, touching the crystal. The glow flared bright, warm, and Mark blinked rapidly.

“Huh” he said. “Weird. I feel like I need to talk.”

You stared at him. “Talk about what?”

“I dunno” Mark shrugged. “Like I noticed how you changed your shampoo and your hair smells amazing. And how cute you look when you’re concentrating.. Oh…oh no, what the–”

You bit your lip, stifling a giggle. “I think you may have triggered a truth spell.”

“A what now?” Mark asked, looking horrified.

“A truth spell,” you repeated, trying not to grin. “It makes you say whatever’s on your mind.”

“Okay,” Mark said carefully. “Okay, that’s… fine. I just won’t talk.” Slapping a hand over his mouth.

That lasted ten seconds before he groaned loudly.

“God, you’re so pretty,” he blurted, hands still over his face. “Like, unfair levels of pretty. It’s distracting sometimes. Like, one time last week I was thinking about your smile during a fight and I nearly got punched in the face. Oh my god, I’m still talking.”

Mark whined, pacing around the room. “I think about kissing you like every five seconds! And you know what’s worse? Sometimes I practice what I’m gonna say to you in the mirror because I don’t wanna sound like a dork. But guess what? I sound like a dork anyway!”

“No wonder you take so long in the bathroom,” you grinned.

“Oh my god,” Mark muttered. “I’m gonna die.”

You tried to reverse the spell, but it lingered far longer than intended. Throughout the day, Mark’s nonstop rambling followed you everywhere. Even when he was flying you home after a mission, he was still at it. “you smell nice, that one time you wore my hoodie, I didn’t wash it for like a week because it smelled like you”

“Mark!”

“I seriously don’t get how you make magic look so easy,” Mark said, voice a little softer this time. “Like, you’re just... amazing. Even when I’m having a bad day, just being around you makes it better. And sometimes I feel like you don’t know how incredible you are. I wanna tell you every single time I see you, but I don’t wanna annoy you. So I just shut up about it but now I can’t shut up about it and… I really love you, okay?”

The words hit you harder than you expected. For once, Mark’s voice was quiet. Sincere. Raw.

“You mean that?” you asked softly.

“I can’t lie right now,” he said with a lopsided smile.

Finally, you managed to break the spell and Mark lets out a loud sigh of relief, immediately covering his face.

“I’m never showing my face again,” he mumbled. You leaned forward. Pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Why? I kinda liked hearing how much you love me.”

“I’m never gonna live this down,” Mark groaned.

“Nope,” you smiled. “Not a chance.”

[eggrollforyou]

okay but like could we get a sex pollen/power kinda thing but opposite?? like instead of y/n being the one getting hit with it, have law get hit with it. bonus points if he doesn’t want to ask y/n for help at first and he’s a bit submissive when she does help😄😄

Wanted This

Law x F!Reader

CW: NSFW, MDNI, sex pollen trope, unprotected sex, p in v, needy Law, rough sex, use of pet names, one bed trope, mutual pining but they don't know it, porn with plot if I forget anything, lemme know!

A/N: Thank you for this ‘Nonnie! This was a lot of fun. I really hope I did your request justice! Law’s  and readers' thoughts are in italics. Hopefully I separate them enough that it’s not confusing. I apparently felt the need to go into great detail to set up Law going to TOWN on reader 🤣

“W-what?!  Are you fucking serious, Shachi?” Law grumbles in frustration. “I-I’m sorry Captain, rules are rules,” Shachi chuckles nervously, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.  

Of-fucking-course this shit HAS to happen. We’re grounded to weather this weird ass storm and this is the last inn with any vacancy and I draw HER name to share the room? Law thinks to himself. “Why can’t she and Ikkaku bunk up?” he pleads one last time.

“Well, they argued that to be fair, it should just be names from a hat…we’re all adults, etcetera, etcetera. I mean they made a strong point, we’re a crew. What does it matter?” Shachi replies. Law rubs his hand down his face in a hidden panic, expressed as faux annoyance. 

“Fucking FINE,” he chagrined as he swipes the room key from Shachi. “Hey, I mean, maybe you can have that talk with her now? You’ll certainly have the privacy to do it, Captain.” Shachi sheepishly replies, hoping to soothe Law’s foul mood at the current turn of events. “SHHH! Shut the fuck up Shachi. I’ll deal with it,” Law whispers, embarrassed that anyone might have heard. 

His feelings for you have grown the last few months but he hasn’t had the nerve to express to you what they are, being as emotionally repressed as he is. Finally needing to get it all out, he’s been talking to Shachi about it, hoping that maybe by getting it out in the open, he’ll realize that they’re nothing more than a simple crush that will fizzle away with time. 

But no, things can’t be that simple and they can’t go the way of just ignoring it until it goes away that he was hoping he could rely on. And now, since you’re all docked at this island to weather a storm for another couple days he has to spend them sharing the last remaining room at the inn with you?! He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves that are eliciting butterflies in his stomach and anxiety in his chest. He waits until he feels the blush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears that he feels burning hot at the idea of sharing a room with you, to dissipate before he goes to find you.

“Looks like we’re bunking together,” Law tries to sound as unbothered as possible as he approaches you, showing the key to your room. Bunking together!? What the fuck is this, camp?! He internally chastises himself. To his surprise, you giggle. “I guess so, Captain!” you reply enthusiastically. God, you’re adorable.

As you both walk toward your room,  you fight to keep your cool. I mean it was obvious to everyone- except apparently Law- that you harbored a crush for the broody man. You’re not sure why you were so excited about this, though. He never seemed to reciprocate your feelings towards him. Always giving you the same clipped responses he gave the rest of the crew. In fact, it seemed he might actually not enjoy your company all that much, the more you think about it. He's always distant. Sometimes if you're going to pass each other late at night on the ship, he flinches and just turns away abruptly. Like he actively avoids you.

Suddenly, you’re wracked with anxiety. This may actually be worse than I was thinking. He probably finds me annoying and this may be REALLY awkward. Suck it up, Y/N. You’re both adults. Just treat it as any other day on the Tang…you’ll be fine right? Ugh. How could I be so stupid. He clearly isn't interested in me. I guess I got so caught up in my feelings, I failed to see it for myself…

As you both approach your room, you shift to stand behind Law to avoid bothering him. Law unlocks the door and as you both step in, you see the bathroom to the right and walk further to see a table in a small sitting area with a vase of beautiful flowers next to the window and one bed. Both of you stop in your tracks. You, quietly giddy and your heart skipping happily, but Law’s face suddenly goes white. You feign shock when he turns to look at you. 

“T-this must be a mistake,” he says. “I’m going to go to the front desk and talk to them. We must have gotten the wrong room key, we’re supposed to have two beds,” he hurries as he rushes out of the room. Leaving you standing there, quietly trying to mend your breaking heart, hoping your face doesn't show the disappointment at your realization that Law just isn't that into you. Keep it together Y/N….it’s only unrequited love. You can deal with it, you sarcastically tell yourself. Leaving you to just nod in acceptance as he sees you before he shuts the door. 

“I’m sorry, Sir. But that is our last room available. We apologize for the inconvenience. It was also assumed that a couple would be staying in the room. We can certainly send up a second set of linens for you if that will help?” Law glared daggers at the clerk who didn’t seem to give two shits about the predicament their assumptions put him in. He sighed in defeat, “Fine. A second set of linens. We’ll make do,” he waves his hand as he walks away. 

When he returns, you're nowhere in sight but he hears the shower running, steam slowly trickling out from under the door. He breathes a sigh of momentary relief. Don't make this awkward, alright? We're adults. We can manage. I'll just tell her I have extra blankets and a pillow being delivered to sleep on the floor. No need to make this a thing.

A few moments later, someone knocks on the door. Must be the bedding. Law gets up from sitting at the table contemplating why life has planned out to land him in this exact moment as he answers, collecting the bedding from the housekeeper and promptly shutting the door behind him. 

The loud slam of the door closing broke you from your in-shower zone out, where little to Law's knowledge, you're also contemplating what karmic retribution landed you here in this exact situation. Your heartbeat in your ears from being suddenly startled, you take a deep breath. It can’t be THAT bad to share a room with me, can it? What the fuck, this seems really over the top for a minor inconvenience.

You hurry to finish showering, clearing your head as best you can, and try to face how you’re going to approach the next couple days. I can just grab my book and hang out in the lobby or at the tavern or something. I don’t have to stay in the room. Just use it purely as a space to sleep. You’ve resigned, you’re going to get dressed, grab your book and just go down to the tavern for a drink and to read. It’ll be some nice alone time anyway.

Law hears the water shut off in the bathroom and in a rush, he accidentally almost throws the spare blanket on the table and knocks over the vase of flowers, water spilling everywhere. “Shit!” Law leans over and rushes to right the vase, but the damage is done. There’s water everywhere as it trickles off the table onto the floor. He immediately coughs and sneezes, realizing in the fall, the pollen on some of the flowers is knocked loose. “What-” he coughs “-the fuck?” He has nothing left to do but wait for you to get out of the bathroom, to grab a towel to clean up the mess. 

In a couple minutes, you rush out of the bathroom, mumbling an apology for taking so long in the bathroom. You walk briskly to your bags and grab a book and turn to exit the room as quickly as you can, trying to make as little eye contact as possible to avoid showing Law the hurt and growing frustration in your eyes. “I’m, uh, gonna be down at the tavern,” as you wave your book in the air. Before Law has a chance to respond, you’re gone. The door quickly shutting behind you. 

He sighs a breath of something- Resignation? Relief? Wanting? He’s not sure. He wants to spend time with you but you have his brain so fucked up. He gets tongue tied and nervous around you. He finds himself wanting to impress you? He wants to get to know you better but you don’t need that. Don’t need what his baggage would mean for you. Suddenly, he’s thinking about your hair. How it always looks so soft. Soft like how soft your skin must feel. He walks to the bathroom to grab a towel to clean the mess from the flowers and he’s hit with the warm, humid air still lingering in the bathroom. The scent is tinged with your soap. The smell enveloping him like how you envelope his thoughts.

He closes his eyes and takes it in. The warmth of the humid, heavy air clings to his skin and he feels it spread across his chest and he suddenly gets pangs of pain in his gut. His eyes snap open. What the hell? His chest feels tight, his skin burns, his ears are buzzing and all he can think of is how soft your lips look. How he wants to kiss them….and your jaw…and your neck. His thoughts grow hazy and he imagines how he would press you against the bathroom counter, bend you over and fuck you into oblivion. WHAT THE FUCKi?!

He feels the familiar throbbing of his cock when he lets his thoughts wander about you, but this time, it feels like if he doesn’t have some contact, he’ll explode. He begins breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath that seems to evade him as his skin burns and tingles, focusing on his groin. What the hell is happening to me? Something’s wrong. He looks down and he sees the evidence of his arousal, feeling as if he doesn’t release his cock, his pants will rip. Without thinking, he hurriedly unzips his pants and frees himself with a sigh, but the aching pain continues. He leans on the bathroom wall and slowly slides down as he palms himself over his boxers trying to find some relief. It sends electric jolts down his spine. 

He pulls his boxers down slightly and grips his length at the base. It’s veiny, an angry red, and dripping precum. He hisses as his hand starts moving up and down, collecting the precum from the top and twisting his fist down his shaft. He begins to pump his fist hoping to find some release from this crazed feeling. When he thinks he might finally reach his peak, he finds himself unable to finish and find relief. He continues over and over and there seems to be no release in sight. “Fuuuhck,” he whispers to himself as he slams the back of his head on the bathroom wall in frustration, panting and sweating.

“Shit!” you mumble to yourself. “I grabbed the wrong fucking book,” as you bring your palm to your forehead. You made it to the tavern, decided to order your drink and a snack first before settling down to crack open your book. You were slightly distracted because Shachi and Penguin were sitting at another table and staring at you. You could swear they had a look of pity but thought it must be because you didn’t want to sit with them. Much preferring to deal with your current emotional state alone. 

When you opened your book, looking for your bookmark, you realized then that you grabbed the next book in the series you were reading. “Damn it….now I have to go back up there,” you whined. Do I really need to read right now?

Ugh. I can’t be a weirdo and just stare at the wall all night. I’ll just run in and grab it really quick. And you stand up to head back to the room.

Law didn’t hear your footsteps approaching in his attempt to deal with his current predicament. But as soon as you stopped at the door, he smelled you. His pupils suddenly dilated and his breathing labored. He stops and quickly covers his lap with the towel he couldn't remember the reason he needed as you open the door to the room. 

He grunts as you walk past him, but you don't realize where he is, nor the state he's in. He's trying not to let you find him like this- needy, desperate, bordering rabid for touch. You walk to your bag and swap out the correct book and make your way back to the door to nurse your drink. You hear a shuffle in the bathroom and take a passing peek. You see Law’s legs splayed out, his body propped on the wall. He's breathing heavily, his face and chest are flushed, he's practically dripping sweat.

You stop, “Law! C-captain! Are you ok?!” You immediately begin to check for a fever, search for his pulse on his wrist to check his heart rate. He hisses at the contact, ripping his wrist from your grasp, “G-get out,” he enunciates. “L-leave me alone, I'm f-fine, damn it.” Your hands recoil from him as you pull them back. What the hell is going on? “Captain, I just want to make sure you're-”

“I said I'm fine,” he pants, interrupting you. Grimacing in pain as waves of it return.

 I can't just leave him like this, but clearly he doesn't want my help. “I can get Shachi, or Penguin? I really don't think I should leave you like this, Law.” Your concern for his well being winning out over wanting to leave his grumpy ass alone. Something was clearly wrong, you wouldn't feel right storming off. 

“N-no! P-please,” he's begging. Beginning to lose his mind from his desire to have your skin on his. To kiss you, like he's always wanted to, to force your gaze in the mirror to make you watch him worship your body. He wanted nothing more than to explore every inch of you but not like this. He wanted to tell you that you consume his thoughts. He's wanted to ask you out ages ago but he was too much of a coward to do it. And where has that silence led him? 

He's now writhing on the bathroom floor of a room at an inn, with an erection that won't go away, a mind full of lustful thoughts that he cannot control and you worriedly and helplessly staring at him. 

You take a moment, seeing he's clearly in pain and instead try a different approach with him. “Law, I need you to tell me what's wrong. Where are you in pain? Can you tell me your symptoms? Is it ok for me to check your pulse?” You slowly reach out. He nods, his chest heaving. You look down and notice the towel over his lap and your eyes widen. He's very clearly trying to conceal his erection, but the towel does nothing to hide it. 

Suddenly, you realise what's going on. You've seen it before, prior to joining the crew. It's the effects of an aphrodisiac. You steel your nerves. You have no idea what's going to happen when you tell him this. “L-law,” your cheeks are hot, turning bright red, “I, uhm, I think I know what's going on. It looks like you may have been exposed to an aphrodisiac.” You awkwardly clear your throat. 

His wild eyes connect with yours, they're so dilated you can barely see the beautiful amber and gold that they usually glow. He gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down and you're trying to keep your cool, at least for his sake. “P-please, Y/N. I need your help, w-what do I need to fix….this?” He gestures his hands to his throbbing erection. “I-it hurts,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. 

Your eyes quickly snap from his groin to his eyes, your breath hitches, “I…think you know...how to fix it,” you whisper. He leans forward and presses his face into the crook of your neck and inhales a deep breath in your hair, “I'm- hng- I'm sorry,” he winces. “I wanted this to be different.” Your smell is driving him crazy, it's so enticing, it's like you're a siren calling out to him and he's losing whatever sliver of self control he has left. 

“What are you talking about, Law? Different-” Suddenly he reaches forward and he slips his hand behind your head, pulling you to him in a messy kiss. You pause for a moment, but soon get lost in his need. Returning his heated kisses as you lean into him. 

You yelp as he pulls you onto his lap, groaning as you grind your hips onto him. He's lost in the feeling of you. Your lips slotting into his feel like perfection and he never wants to leave. His tongue swipes your bottom lip and you part your lips for him. Your tongues dance together, exploring each other. “I need you Y/N,” he growls as he pulls the towel out from underneath you. 

While your hips are lifted, he pulls your skirt down and you shift to remove the item completely and he looks down. His cock throbbing harder at the sight of your lacy underwear. With a growl you hear a RIP as he tosses your underwear to the side. “P-please, I n-,” he groans in desperation, “I n-need to know you want this t-too.” 

Your heart is racing, you just want him to feel better, but you feel selfish. You wonder if this is just the pollen talking. Will he still want me when it's out of his system? Should I walk away? You decide now’s the time to just tell him. This situation is already about as messy as it can get, just get it out in the open. Treat it like a bandage, just rip it off. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “Law, I’ve always wanted this.”

Law’s eyes go wide for a brief moment and in one swift motion, he pulls you down onto his length. He groans, a gritty sound, deep from within his chest. You gasp at the sudden stretch as and the delicious burn of your body stretching to accommodate him. He presses his forehead to yours, hot breaths fanning your face, “‘m’sorry. I wanted this to be d-different,” he pants. Despite his pain and desperation, he’s trying to hold back to avoid hurting you. But you take the lead, surprising him.

You capture his lips in a wet kiss, all tongue and teeth as you pull up on his cock and slam your hips down. His groans and praises spur you to keep a steady pace as you bounce up and down his length. “F-fuck, Law, hnng,” you cry out as you throw your head back in pleasure.

Law latches his lips to your neck, pressing hot open mouthed kisses and biting it between whispered thank yous. After a few moments, you begin to slow down to the delight of your legs and hips as the muscles burn and ache. Pulling up slowly to his tip, feeling every delicious inch and prominent vein in your clenching walls before pushing your hips back down. 

Rolling your hips causes Law to grip your hips tightly, his fingertips turning white, “S-shit, Y/N, slow down, m’gonna-,” he warns you of his impending orgasm. You lean down to his ear, biting his earlobe, “G-give it to me.” Your sultry command is his undoing. He pulls you down as he thrusts up into you, holding you tightly against him as he moans, spilling inside of you. As you both continue panting, you feel him twitch inside of you again. “M’not done with you yet, love” he growls. He wraps his arms around you, presses his back to the wall, and stands up without ever leaving your warmth.

He pulls out of you and you protest the sudden feeling of emptiness and he sets you to stand in front of him. Turning you around, he fixes his gaze on you in the mirror, you both lock eyes and hurriedly remove the remainder of your clothing.

Law takes in your naked form, his pupils so dilated you only see black, and his gaze darkens. He still has the painful urge deep in his gut telling him to continue. One orgasm was not enough to dull the effects of the pollen, as he’s still excruciatingly hard.

He pulls your back to his chest so you are flush with his body, reaching around to grab your breasts and knead and squish them, gently rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. You moan, leaning your head back on him.

One of his hands snakes down and rubs circles on your clit, dipping down to press a finger into you, collecting his cum, swirling it and pressing it back in. He watches as you close your eyes, furrowing your brow, and biting your lip.

He leans back and lines back up to your entrance again and presses in, to the hilt, again. “Fuuhck, Law, fuck me, please,” you beg. Law immediately begins pounding into you at an inhuman pace, forcing your back into an arch as he watches how your body greedily takes him. “Mmmm, shit,” he whispers. He’s beginning to lose himself in you, blinded by lust induced by the pollen. The bathroom is filled with the sinful sounds of skin meeting skin when his hips slam into you and your labored breathing. 

Law presses down on your hips slightly so his cock continues to hit the spot in you that makes your knees weak, “Fuck, right there, don’t stop, pleeeeease,” you cry out as he brings you closer to your orgasm. The fire in your belly burns hotter and hotter with each pass of his cock. “Let go for me, sweetheart. Give it to me,” he whispers in your ear as he gently bites the juncture where your neck and shoulder meet. 

He forces your gaze to the mirror. As soon as you make eye contact with him, seeing the position he has you, the feral look in his eyes, you shatter. Your orgasm washing over you in waves as your cunt clenches and flutters on his length, gripping it so tightly his eyes roll back. He moans into your ear as he finishes inside of you again. Pulsing and throbbing as he fills you so full, you feel it beginning to run down the inside of your leg. He doesn’t stop fucking into you. Like a man possessed, he continues fucking into you.

He suddenly turns you around, picking you up and pulling you into another kiss. His tongue enters your mouth, taking you, overwhelming your senses. He sets you on the countertop in the bathroom and without skipping another beat, presses his still hard cock into you. You open your eyes in surprise and he begins pounding into you again as your legs are dangling over his elbows, his hands grabbing a firm grip of your ass. He wants to stay like this and claim you as his, forever. 

“Fu-uck, I can’t get enough of you, baby,” Law moans. His head thrown back, you watch his Adam’s apple bob with his swallow, watching the sweat that’s beading on his skin, drip down his sculpted chest and abs. You watch as his, somehow, still hard cock goes in and out of you. “Mmmn,” is all you can manage in your fucked out state. There are no words left, only him and how he has complete control over you as you quickly approach another orgasm. 

Law continues to fuck into you and rolls his hips, adjusting the angle his cock slams into you. Pressing that spot just right again and again. He presses two fingers on your clit and begins pressing in harsh sloppy circles as he gets close to cumming again.

The bathroom air is thick and heady with the sounds and smells of sex and lust. He feels you clenching again as you approach another orgasm, gasping and gripping his arms as you twitch under his ministrations. With one final, harsh thrust, Law groans as he cums again, pressing hard on your clit, you scream out. Your mouth falls open as you cum again on his cock, taking everything he’s giving you.

The effects of the pollen are finally waning. Law’s mind is growing clearer by the second as he rests his forehead on yours. Both of you panting, trying to come down from your highs as he continues to throb and slowly pump into you. You both wince from overstimulation as he pulls out of you. Your legs hang down over the edge of the counter, but your body is reduced to putty. Every part of you feels heavy. Law gently picks you up, bridal style, and walks you to the bed, laying you down. He walks back to the bathroom to grab a towel to clean you up.

As you slowly regain clarity after a few moments, you begin to grow nervous about what this all means now. Will this change your relationship negatively? Was he serious earlier when he said he wanted this? Or was that the pollen talking? You’re so lost in your anxious thoughts you didn’t register Law lying down in bed next to you. “Y/N,” he says again to get your attention, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Are you…are you ok?” he quietly questions. His face covered in a look of worry matching your own. “C-can I be honest with you, Law?” He nods.

“I-I….I’ve wanted you for a long time, Law. I know you were under the effects of the pollen, so uhm, if you don’t want to be-” he cuts you off with a kiss that you find all too easy to fall into. “I’ve liked you for a long time as well, Y/N. I….I really did want this, just….not this way. I wanted to get here eventually but I was too afraid to say anything to you,” he quietly admits.

You feel your face heating up in a blush, reaching your hand out to touch his cheek, “We’re both idiots, I guess, huh?” you chuckle. He nods in agreement, “Heh…yea, I guess so,” his thumb rubs soft circles on your shoulder. “W-will you be mine, Y/N?” he sheepishly asks. 

Your heart jumps and you giggle at his bashfulness after what just transpired between you two. You press a soft kiss to his cheek, “You always had me, Law.”

PHEW! This fic practically wrote itself, though it ended up WAAAY longer than I expected😅. I really hope you enjoyed it! Thanks again for the request! As a reminder, I work full time, am a part time graduate student, and I have a family. My life can get pretty chaotic, quickly. I will work on requests when I have the free time! ily all  ❤️💕

Taglist: @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Did you like this? I'm flattered! Wanna read more? Here's my Masterlist!

[thinemoonshine]

⋆𐙚₊ 𝓹𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 (𝓻𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜)˚⊹♡

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ when platonic becomes romantic

bestfriend!enhypen hyung line x fem reader content(s): fluff, enhypen being down bad, hints of yearning, reader's oblivious, jay malfunctions, bit suggestive in jake's, sunghoon's already thinking wedding vows type: imagine

⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆

it’s weird. they’ve always been touchy with one another. sure, it may not be to the point of clingy but touchy enough that hand-holding and cuddling are normal in their friendship.

so why is it that heeseung feels so shy and flustered with (y/n)’s simple affection now?

her fingers pinch his chin softly as she gently tends his small cut with a cotton swab. their faces close but far enough so heeseung can comfortably admire her features while she stands between his spread knees.

“it’s not deep enough so it shouldn’t leave too much of a scar,” she says calmly—too casually for heeseung who’s literally having trouble making a single coherent thought without thinking about their proximity.

he swallows and it only makes his throat feel drier. “you sure?”

(y/n) lifts her gaze to see his round, bambi eyes searching hers for reassurance and she chuckles. “don’t worry, hee. you’ll still be handsome.”

still? he echoes internally. she thinks i’m handsome.

the thought itself is dumb considering how she’s never held back her admiration for his looks but for some reason, it was clearer to him this time, significant.

her hand shifts to cup his cheek and he fights himself from practically melting into her touch with his fists clenching by his side.

but his will is weaker than he thought.

(y/n)’s brows raise when he leans into her palm with eyes shutting while his own arms wrap around her waist to pull her in. “hee?”

the way that everyday nickname fell from her lips has his heart lurching and ears ringing, desperate for her to say it again.

“i like it when you say my name,” he murmurs into her shoulder and she’s silenced, flustered and confused, even more so when she can literally feel him jolting ever so slightly from his rapid, passionate heartbeat.

(y/n) slowly reciprocates the touch—her arms moving to encircle his slim waist and he sighs at the warmth that envelopes.

“is there something going on?” she asks, unsure of what transpired for her bestfriend to act so intimate all of a sudden but all heeseung does is shake his head—sneakily burying his nose into the crook of it and breathing her in.

“i just want you here,” he confesses, warm breath heating her skin as he subtly stamps little pecks before having to bite his own tongue to hold back from pressing a long, lasting kiss.

oh, if only he could.

heeseung smiles as he lifts a hand to cradle the back of her head, combing through her hair as his lips pull to a grin.

well, no one said he couldn’t.

⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆

it should be casual. a norm. a routine, even, to have (y/n) clinging onto his back as he cooks. it’s what she always does whenever he makes their meals—her ‘contribution’ she says, since jay won’t let her do anything.

and he doesn’t mind. he welcomes it, in fact. but something about today, makes it a lot harder for him to focus on his cooking with her wrapped around him.

“i thought you wanted them diced,” (y/n) reminds when jay was about to shove in the messily sliced carrots into a pot of hazardously seasoned soup(he’s pretty sure he poured in sugar instead of salt).

jay blinks rapidly, frantic, as he laid down the cutting board again and starts dicing… if cutting them in criss-crossed shapes into atoms is another method of it. “y-yeah. i did.”

but it doesn’t stop there.

“jay, that’s not salt.”

“black pepper, not white.”

“that fire’s too high!”

jay’s a second away from giving himself a concussion with the frying pan and even then, he grabbed the ladle instead.

"is something wrong?" his bestfriend asks when she turns him around and the way her fingers ghost over his waist makes him shudder.

he shakes his head with his signature smirk-ish smile before clearing his throat. “nothing. just thinking about some stuff.”

his hand lands on her crown and rests there for a moment before he pats gently. then he turns back around to cook, scoffing in amusement at the skeptical hum from the girl clinging onto his back.

“i’ll make you talk one way or another,” she threatens and jay’s about to toss a witty remark but he’s cut by a gasp when her palms drag up to his chest—heart going overdrive and nearly bursting through until her grip curls around his neck. “tell me!”

he’s shaken back and forth by the throat and it works in distracting him from blasting off through the roof like a rocket. exaggerated laughter escapes him as he tries to pretend everything’s fine before he gently holds her wrists and pulls them away—spinning to face her with a bright grin on his ruddy face.

“if you keep this up, i might not be able to get this done,” he chides but with a playful undertone as he clicks his tongue with a sharp inhale. his eyes sharpen to squint ‘menacingly’ and the girl mirrors.

“fine. i’ll relent,” she shrugs and pulls her arms back but just when jay thinks she’ll leave, she reaches to gently stroke his throat and that has his eyes widening and breaths hitching. “sorry, was i too rough?”

his gears are frozen and ears muffled from the pounding, passionate beats of his heart. “i—uh, no! not at all.”

and when her eyes lift to meet his, he nearly buckles at the knees—having to reach behind and grip the edge of the counter until his knuckles turn white to keep himself up.

there’s a pregnant pause between them and with every second, jay’s mind is unraveling little by little.

“i knew it,” she scoffs and for a moment, he thinks it’s over for him. (y/n)’s gonna see through him and she’s gonna leave him and—

“i’ll use a rope next time. thanks for the advice!” she chirps and spins before skipping out the kitchen, leaving him dumbfounded and speechless.

the moment she’s out, he crashes against the counter behind him—skin flushed to his ears and neck and eyes wide as saucers as his hand cups the lower half of his face in disbelief.

oh, he’s done for.

⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆

jake thinks there’s no such thing as a friendship touchier, sweeter and cheesier than his with (y/n). it’s their love language: physical touch. even if it’s as small as poking or as big as a whole cuddle session, they’re all a portrayal of their perfectly platonic affections.

they’ve even kissed each other’s cheeks for goodbyes and caused confusion all around whether they were dating or not. of course, they’d always deny it—saying that that’s one of the perks from being friends for so long. nothing affects them anymore since they’ve seen nearly everything of each other.

but now, from the way jake’s breaking a sweat and losing his breaths as he cuddles with (y/n) for another one of their movie marathon nights, he’s not sure he can live up to that belief.

he’s trying his hardest to calm his nerves, scared that she’s going to be able to feel his racing heart or notice his shaky breaths.

it’s like he’s suddenly conscious of everything.

the way her hands feel against him, the softness of her figure compared to his solid body, her sweet warmth that seeps into his pores as he holds her close and the way she whines and grunts unconsciously whenever he shifts like she hates to be apart.

everything, every single thing about her is driving him crazy and the fact that she’s literally using him as a human mattress and plushie isn’t helping.

of all days, did (y/n) have to fall asleep on him today—when he can’t make sense of his feelings??

he gulps thickly as his pretty, slender fingers hover her back before ultimately combing through her locks as she slumbers.

slowly, cautiously, undoing the knots and tidying stray strands as he does breathing exercises to calm himself down. but when she groans a complaint of him “being too loud,” he realizes maybe he’s been hyperventilating instead.

he clears his throat as he slowly tries to sit up. it’s a custom between them. when one of them falls asleep mid movie marathon, they’d take care of one another—(y/n) would put a blanket over him and fix his pillow while jake usually tucks her to bed.

but with how much he’s trembling, he might not be able to today.

“(y/n),” he starts softly, just wanting to stir her enough so she’d at least free his legs from being all tangled up with hers but she only nuzzles further—face now buried in the crook of his neck with her lips brushing his skin.

BOOM!

he thinks his heart just exploded.

jake’s overheating, red all over with fingers twitching as he bites the back of his hand to quieten the soft sounds threatening to escape. it’s all too much yet too little, so near yet so far. she’s fogging up all his senses and he can barely even think.

his hand patting her back is near robotic now as he stares at the ceiling blankly, like every single thought he conjures fizzles up and leaves his brain completely empty as he battles with himself from scooping her up and kissing her right then and there.

wait, what?

he chokes on a breath and coughs violently—forcing (y/n) awake and he panics. with eyes wide, he quickly wraps his arms around her, hushing and lulling her back to sleep, guilty for even waking her up while at the same time hiding his face into her hair.

“sorry! sorry, i woke you just—just go back to sleep,” he coos as he cradles her form in his lap and stands to lift her up to bed—only to be stopped when she rubs her face against his chest with a small protest.

“stay…” she slurs sleepily and it’s like a love arrow struck him in the heart as he drops back onto the couch, breathless and awestruck. he looks down at her who’s back to snoring and sleeping, oblivious to the frazzled, flustered state of jake sim who presses a long, lasting kiss onto her forehead in place of her lips.

would it be too weird to buy a diamond ring as a friendship item?

⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆

sunghoon isn’t as nonchalant as he aims to be. but people think he is. with his gentle yet distant disposition and random silly little antics, he’s a living contradiction. a man of mystery. and it’s difficult to understand him at times, hard to reach.

especially when he doesn’t bother to since he has someone he sticks to every breathing moment of his day: (y/n). even now, on a sweet, sunny saturday, sunghoon’s sitting on the sofa of her living room as she meticulously puts pretty clips on his fluffy, raven hair.

they just came back from a shopping spree and she bought some cute butterfly clips that apparently flap their wings when the wearer moves or wind blows. it’s up to (y/n) to test that hypothesis herself.

“last one,” she says without even looking at her bestfriend who’s been admiring her nonstop with heart-shaped eyes. “done!”

sunghoon’s jolted back to reality and he smiles softly. “can i see?”

“yeah,” the girl casually replies as she tidies up the torn packages from unboxing her new clips. hoon stands and goes to her standing mirror only for his lips to part in surprise? maybe dismay?? he expected to look cool, or cute, at least, but now he looks like an experiment gone wrong with how his hair’s clipped standing like uneven cut grass frazzled in all directions.

and it’s even slightly disturbing to see the fake butterflies bobbing side to side while being clumped together like an infestation.

he spins, brows knit and takes a deep breath to complai—

“see! cute, right?” (y/n) chirps, the biggest toothy grin on her face as cheeks bunch up and eyes twinkle with pure expectation. suddenly, sunghoon’s words crumble and furrow softens.

“yeah,” he agrees before he can even deny and it leaves himself confused. not for long though, because his bestfriend’s quick to squeal and take a picture with their cheeks pressed together and the proximity has him reeling.

it doesn’t matter that he looks goofy and it would ruin his entire nonchalant image, it doesn’t matter that she practically yanked him down and almost sent him falling face first, it doesn’t matter that his scalp is practically ripping off from the tension of the clips.

because she’s happy—because of him.

and honestly, he’d put his life at stake just to be able to give that to her every single day. to be with her at every single point of her life and make her smile without fail.

in sickness and in health—

wedding vows already??

he mentally slaps himself.

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! thank you so much for reading to the end!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog— they give me some motivation, ya know? but please do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[rockingbytheseaside]

omg, I am quite literally in love with your work.

pls I cannot tell you how frickin ecstatic I am when I read your stuff 😭 like I’m Fr Rolling on the floor and stopping every five secs bc of the butterflies-

AND! I saw that your asks are open!! (If I misread/misunderstood then I’m so sorry and just ignore this) I was wondering if you could do Harbingers x reader when they find reader quietly weeping- like reader thought they were alone and didn’t wanna burden them :3 romantic if you would !!

no pressure ofc!!!! fr I love ur stuff sm like I’ve been reading ur stuff OVER AND OVER😭😭😭

(bshdhsgdhagjds Okay, let me just hold in my tears- that’s so kind of you anon! Sorry for making you wait, I hope this is something similar to what you wanted) 

✦ How they comfort you when you cry

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe

Sometimes, your days might feel bitter, and sometimes the weight of your inner struggles can accumulate into a somber heap of self-doubt. Whether it was a minute inconvenience that resulted in your dampened mood, or stressful memories of the past – the reasons behind it fade into insignificance. Because next thing you know, you feel your shoulders slightly shaking, and your hand reaching to conceal your silent weeping. Thus, when talking becomes a burden and your breath runs short, your beloved is the first to listen to your sniffles.

✧ Pierro’s already icy gaze becomes unreadable. Is it fear? Is it astonishment? Or is it the readiness to unleash hell upon anything that compelled you to shed these silent tears? He sees you hugging yourself, trying to shield yourself away from him. His gloved hands cautiously reach for your form, like a blanket wrapping itself around your shoulders. 

“My divine one, why hide your tears away from me? Why conceal the sadness in your eyes when you silently weep? Please, grace me with your gaze and look at me.” 

His voice is careful despite its deepness, suppressing his boiling temper at the sight of your sadness. He reaches for you tenderly, and when you turn towards him, you allow yourself to cry further into his chest. He cradles you silently, never once wasting breath on simple shushes or admonishments to cease crying. No, The Jester will hold you, let his lips press softly to your forehead, and let you cry as much as you need. He'll personally worship and wipe every teardrop off your cheek. 

Yet despite his gentle arms, you sense him shaking. His gloved hands hold you securely, yet subconsciously gripping. Because pray to the archons above, he will not rest until the source of your sadness is annihilated. 

✧ Il Capitano never saw you cry before. He saw you as an equal in matters of battles, duels, and personal life. Through ups and downs, your best and worst. And yet the imposing, mighty Captain never witnessed his beloved’s face slowly scowl and emit those saddened sobs as you're doing now. 

“No… who bestowed such sadness onto you, my cherished? What sorrows are you fighting?” 

He asks, half in disbelief and worry. The Captain kneels down, the back of his armored hands gracefully meeting your face. He makes sure you’re not physically in pain, his touch asking permission for the simplest caress. You might feel embarrassed to explain why you're crying, but the Captain will coax you to talk only if you bestow him this honor. Otherwise, he never mocks or admonishes you for crying – “This is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of humanity in your strength.”

To soothe you, he'd drape an arm around your shoulder, bringing the side of his coat to shield you. If you desire, he'd immediately discard his coat entirely and wrap it over your shoulders. And if you desire neither this or that, he'd silently kneel, asking for permission to pick you up in his forearms, so you may rest on his shoulder while he carries you away. 

✧ You cannot conceal your sorrows from Il Dottore. He suspects you are feeling dejected before you even realize it. Should your shoulders quiver and tears well in your eyes, he'll be the first to perceive it. His already tense countenance will harden, and in short, murderous intent, he’ll ask:

“Who did this to you?”

His first suspension is that someone foolish enough dared to hurt you, and his next task is to seek out that moron. And stars above, if someone did ruin your day, the Doctor will have a new cadaver on his lab table. You'll have to physically restrain the Harbinger in front of you by putting your hands on his shoulder and explaining hurriedly that no one did anything harmful. 

Il Dottore won't quell his inner rage so easily though. As you shake your head, and rub your eyes, it will require much persuasion to convince him that it’s not as dire as he suspects. Nonetheless, Dottore will keep a tight hold on your form. If he won't murder someone in rage, then he'll prepare a soothing beverage and wrap you up in a comfortable seating so you may rest your weary head. He’ll have to personally drag you to sit by his lap so you won’t desolate yourself into a depressive fit again. 

“Wasting your breath and energy on crying is a futile endeavor. You'll only tire your body out… so rest in my arms before your mind starts weaving more puny sentiments.” 

✧ The ever-prideful and strict Scaramouche would find himself faltering into silence when the unfamiliar sound emanates from your being. The hiccupped sounds of choked cries are not foreign to him - he recognized them very well and was personally acquainted with the physical pain of crying. But seeing the closest being, the one he calls most cherished, to unexplainable weep was a new form of pain he had never experienced. 

“... Are you-? What's wrong, are you hurt? Did something-!”

An expression of shock and fear bestows the Balladeer, his hands are reluctant and afraid to cross your boundaries when you cry in front of him. His first instinct is to believe that he has erred, that he has hurt you or spoken insensitively. Anguished, his fist tightens, dreading your stern rejection. Yet, all it takes is a gentle shake of your head and a soft reassurance - no, he hasn't actually done anything wrong.

His brow will remain furrowed, and only under your permission, he would glue himself to you in a reassuring embrace. It's only after he's assured of your safety and well-being that the Harbinger begins to ease up and scoff. Maybe, just maybe, he will go and bring your favorite sweets afterward. Regardless, his hands kept cupping your face, thumbs gently wiping your tears.

“Ha, you’re that sensitive that you’d weep at the most minor inconvenience? Fine, I’ll stay here. But don’t get too comfortable. And you better stop apologizing for crying. You should never say sorry for something like that. It’s in your right to cry… Just come to me when something’s troubling you, alright?”

✧ You cannot recall a single instance when Pantalone's captivating smile ever wavered. The man has perfected his charismatic, million-mora smile that only you can discern if he’s being genuine or not. But to witness it dropping completely in a cold stare while you cried was chilling. You felt scared, as the Harbinger grew eerily silent with each slow step, he demanded:

“... Give me names and I will make sure they will disappear permanently.”

You jolted. This was bad, and it sure didn’t quell your sobbing as you hurriedly shook your head. Pantalone took a deep sigh, his brain forced to flip a switch and change to a more tender tone so he wouldn’t scare you further with his sinister rage. He will deal with the causes later. What mattered now was your shaken state. Hence, like the dotting lover he is, he softly inquired whether you wish to talk or have some privacy. 

If you willingly welcomed his physical touch, then prepare yourself for a day filled with him enfolding you tightly. He will draw you near, letting you cry your frustrations out until you get fatigued and rest against his lean chest. The Regrator always fulfills his pledges, gently rocking you back and forth. He will vow to spoil you on the next shopping spree and purchase everything you desire - luxuries, clothes, perfumes, or fancy meals, all of it is yours with a snap of his fingers (even if you reprimand his indulgence). His embraces are tenacious, endless kisses raining down on your face until you plead and whine to be released from his insistent hugs.

"My heart, how can I possibly release you when you should be adorned with kisses instead of tears? I am afraid I won’t be so easily reassured until I see your smile again."

✧ Tartaglia’s highlight of the day is mirroring your luminous smile; hence when he first heard your sorrowful sniffles, it felt like a sudden dark cloud washed past him, pouring cold water to wipe his smile off in an instant. Without hesitation, his hand found itself on your shoulder as he guided you to sit first.

“Hey, hey… What’s wrong, darling? I’m here, it’s alright.”

He observes your attempt to explain the root of your troubles, but as you try to elaborate, your tears only intensify against your own will. Kneeling in front of you, his gaze was resolute - he now had a mission. He will immediately soothe your mood with tender words of endearment, lighthearted banter, and the occasional joke here and there, anything to make you crack up with that sweet smile he so adores.

Tartaglia will remind you that first and foremost, he is your Ajax - the one who will bring laughter through his playful teasing and delightful humor during your times of melancholy. The one who will cook you the best Snezhnayan Bliny better than any pancake restaurant. And the one who will always be there so you can lean your head on his shoulder and just feel his heartbeat as he embraces you deeply. In any other circumstances, he is the 11th of the Fatui Harbinger who will work and bloody his fists for your safety. However, for now, you shouldn’t occupy your thoughts with such concerns.

“Hey, it’s alright… You don’t have to feel embarrassed for crying. We all have bad days from time to time. How about this, leave today’s dinner on me. I shall cook your favorite even better than you could imagine! Or else what sort of boyfriend would I be if I’m not spoiling my darling.” 

[unholysails]

yknow i dont think ill ever recover from the implications of 'a stitch in time'.

garak sat down in the ruins of his home planet after nearly a decade of exile, finally free of the expectations and threats of punishment or death from all the people he loved. he had his freedom and his home, things he only ever dreamed of having his entire life.

he's there at last, and what does he do? he writes the most stunningly beautiful love letter to a man who seemingly already let him go years prior. you can feel the way he absolutely aches for julian. the yearning is so transparent, so brazen. every person he writes about having had affection for has at least some small resemblance to his dear doctor.

within the letter is every ugly truth, every thing he's ever tried to hide from julian. thoughts and feelings and regrets he's held onto in silence for decades just bleed onto every page, laid bare for the eyes of one man on a distant space station who may decide to not even read it. he will, of course, but a pragmatist like garak isn't about to pretend its not possible. this letter is a plea and a goodbye. it is a continuation of the never ending sacrifice. it is the story of one mans repetitive sacrifice of everything he is for the benefit of others that would knowingly harm him. the one time he refuses to sacrifice his needs, he is brutally punished and cast out to a frigid prison.

this letter was his way of letting go of julian, while still asking him for something. he gave julian everything he ever claimed to want from him. the truth, simple and brutal as it was. told him who he was, why he was. unwavering bravery and vulnerability, a cleansing to wash clean the new man now trying to grow.

all his cards on the table, surrendering everything he'd ever been, with the unspoken but shockingly clear promise of becoming better. 'i am an unfinished man, doctor'. dont give up on me just yet.

julian will either take that invitation, or he wont. either way, garak will finally have the closure, the knowledge he did all he could to fight for the only man that cared about him during the worst years of his life. he will come, or he wont. there is no room for ambiguity, and thus the ball's in bashir's court, as his doctor would probably say.

[h1nanii]

i’m like 1000% going through an ace drought cause i’ve read everything everywhere so literally i’ll take scraps or whatever you can come up with anything freaky with ace i’d get on my knees and praise you like the goddess you are

sincerely, kiwi 🥝

I read Ace & freaky—immediately got to work.

Here’s :

BURNING SECRETS

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Fem!Reader

[Genre: NSFW 18+ Romance, canon-verse context, humiliation, Friends to situationship/Lovers. Perv!Ace, Jealousy, Drama]

[Warnings: Explicit language, NSFW scenes , Masturbation, oral sex (f! Receiving), penetrative sex, underwear kink, light dom/sub, mutual obsession, dirty talk]

A simple dream, just like every other night—until you appeared right there, in between his legs sucking him off with that pretty smile of yours, looking up at him through your lashes with your eyes half dazed made the tent in his pants stand straighter—poking through the thick sheets of his bed. But it was just a dream, yeah you were his best friend but why did a few seconds unconscious turn his mind over entirely?

MINORS DNI

You’d been crewmates for nearly 3 years now, and friends for most of it. Ace was… Ace. Loyal, reckless, kind. You knew he treated you a little differently—shielding you in fights when he didn’t need to, looking just a little too long when you were sunbathing on the deck—but neither of you ever said anything. It was easier to pretend.

At least it had been.

Lately, he’d been weird. He avoided you during meals, flinched when you touched his arm, and worst of all—he blushed. Ace, the shameless flirt, the devil-may-care fire-fist—blushed whenever you leaned too close.

You cornered Marco about it once. “Is Ace okay?”

Marco raised a brow at you and smirked knowingly. “He’s fine. Just sorting out some… dreams.”

That stuck with you longer than you wanted.

Ace wasn’t proud of it.

He woke up three nights ago, drenched in sweat, your name slipping from his lips, hips grinding into a sticky mess of sheets. He’d dreamt of your fingers tangled in his hair, your mouth on his neck, soft gasps against his skin.

And ever since then, he couldn’t look you in the eye.

The dreams didn’t stop. If anything, they got worse—more vivid. When you wore that loose tank top displaying your cleavage, he had to excuse himself. When you teased him about stealing his dessert, he nearly combusted—literally. He almost scorched the deck.

And then… there were the panties.

He swore he wasn’t trying to be a pervert. But one night, walking past the laundry room, he saw them—lace-trimmed, unmistakably yours. Something stupid and impulsive clicked in him, and before he knew it, they were in his pocket. He couldn’t explain it. He didn’t want to. It was shameful and raw and so not like him. But he didn’t stop. One turned into two. Then three.

You didn’t say anything, and that just made it worse.

You stood in your shared cabin with a slight frown. “Weird,” you murmured, rummaging through your drawer. A few pairs were missing. You were sure you didn’t lose them during battle or leave them in the wash.

At first, you chalked it up to laundry mix-ups or the ocean winds claiming a few unlucky pieces left on the line. But three pairs in a week? That was suspicious. You considered asking Marco if there was some prank going around. But then you noticed Ace acting… off.

He’d been your closest friend aboard the Moby Dick—wild, warm, full of laughter and fire. And ever since the last island stop, he’d barely been able to hold your gaze. His usual touches—careless hand on your thigh during dinner, brushing your hair from your face when the wind blew—had stopped. He seemed jumpy when you got too close.

You thought about confronting him, but what would you even say?

“Hey Ace, have you seen my underwear and also why do you get flustered when I sit on your lap now?”

Yeah. No.

That morning, the sun had barely crested the horizon when you padded down the hallway toward the shared showers. Your towel was slung over your shoulder, still yawning as you turned the corner—only to freeze just outside the cracked-open bathroom door.

You heard a moan.

Low. Male. Familiar.

You knew you should’ve left. Turned around, acted like you heard nothing. But then—

“Aah… fuck…[Name]…”

Your entire body froze. You stepped closer without thinking, breath catching as your fingers gently pushed the door open just a sliver more.

Steam billowed through the room, hot and thick. But it didn’t hide him.

Ace was in the corner, back arched slightly as he leaned against the tiled wall, one hand gripping the sink—the other wrapped around his dick.

And wrapped tightly around his fist was a scrap of black lace.

Your panties.

Your throat went dry.

Then your eyes took in the situation, the exposure, how his ego matched up to his size. Then the realization hit and you immediately left flustered, did that really just happen?

You turned and left, heart racing, panties soaked.

—

—

You didn’t say anything for the rest of the day. Neither did he.

But that night, when you passed by his bunk and saw him fidgeting with the blanket pulled suspiciously high, you stopped.

“Need help getting off, fire-fist?” you asked coolly.

He froze. “W-What?”

You leaned in, fingers brushing his sheets, voice low.

“I know what you did in the bathroom this morning,” you purred. “I saw everything.”

The color drained from his face, then surged back in a blazing blush.

“You—fuck—I didn’t mean for you to—” he stammered, panic lacing his voice.

You silenced him with a finger to his lips, sliding into his bunk beside him. “You could’ve just asked, Ace,” you whispered, lips brushing his jaw. “I would’ve given you more than my underwear.”

His cock twitched against his thigh under the blanket.

Ace’s pupils were blown wide, chest heaving as he stared at you like you were some fever dream come to life. The blanket was still half-tented over his lap, hiding nothing. You’d slid under it with him, pressed skin-to-skin in the dark of the bunk, your thigh brushing his.

“I didn’t want you to find out like that,” he breathed.

“But you still stole them,” you teased, fingers drifting to his chest. “You wanted me, didn’t you?”

He swallowed hard. “You have no idea.”

You leaned in, lips grazing his ear. “Then show me.”

That was all it took.

Ace growled—actually growled—and grabbed your hips, dragging you onto his lap like you weighed nothing. His mouth crashed into yours, all heat and desperation, and his hands were already under your shirt, pushing it up, palms rough and hot as they skimmed your waist.

“Fuck, you’re so soft,” he whispered, biting your bottom lip. “I’ve thought about this every night. Every time I saw you in those little shorts—those panties—I’d get so fucking hard it hurt.”

You rolled your hips, grinding down on the thick, straining bulge under you. “Why didn’t you just take me?”

He snarled softly, voice breaking. “Didn’t think you wanted me. Thought you’d laugh. That you’d think I was a pervert.”

You laced your fingers in his hair and yanked his head back just enough to meet his eyes. “I moaned your name after I saw you this morning, Ace. Fingers in my pussy, soaking wet, thinking about your dick. You think I didn’t want you?”

The look on his face nearly made you come undone right then.

Ace flipped you, pressing you into the mattress, his mouth trailing fire down your body. Shirt gone. Panties peeled off slowly—reverently. He held them up for a second, smirking.

“These are the ones I came in two days ago.”

“You’re disgusting,” you laughed breathlessly.

“I’ll wear the title proudly,” he murmured, then kissed your inner thigh, dragging his tongue slowly up to your dripping slit.

You gasped when he licked you—once, teasing and slow, then again with more hunger, more intent. He groaned like he’d just tasted the sea after a month in the desert.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he muttered, tongue circling your clit. “So much better than my imagination.”

He devoured you, messy and passionate, alternating between slow sucks and fast flicks of his tongue, fingers digging into your thighs to hold you still. You were already trembling, hands tangled in his hair, grinding your hips up to meet every stroke.

“Shit, Ace—gonna cum—” you gasped, voice breaking.

“Do it,” he growled. “Wanna feel you fall apart on my tongue.”

You shattered, clamping around nothing, thighs trembling, moaning his name like it was the only word you knew. Ace didn’t stop until you were twitching from overstimulation.

He kissed up your body, lips shiny and smug.

“I need to fuck you now,” he whispered, grinding his cock against your folds. “Can I?”

You reached between you, wrapped your hand around him—hot, thick, leaking.

“God yes.”

He pushed in slowly, filling you inch by inch, and you both moaned at the stretch. He buried himself to the hilt, head dropping to your shoulder.

“You’re so tight,” he whispered hoarsely. “Fuck—you’re perfect.”

He started moving—deep, slow thrusts that made your toes curl. He held your wrists above your head, bodies pressed close, his lips brushing yours every time he bottomed out.

The rhythm built—faster, harder, his hips slapping against yours, your moans echoing in the cramped bunk. Your second orgasm hit fast, full-body, walls clenching around him as you cried out.

Ace followed seconds later, burying his face in your neck as he groaned through his release, cock twitching deep inside you, flooding you with warmth.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of your heavy breathing and the creak of the ship.

Then he nuzzled into your neck.

“I’m keeping the panties,” he murmured, spent but smug.

You laughed, smacked his chest, and pulled him in for another kiss.

“Next time,” you whispered, “you ask first.”

He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

—

—

You and Ace never talked about what you were after that night.

No labels. No morning-after confessions. No “what are we?” talk.

But your body still ached in the best way. Your lips still tingled from his kisses. And your thighs still bore faint bruises from where his fingers had gripped you like he was afraid you’d disappear.

You didn’t bring it up. Neither did he.

But something had changed.

He was everywhere. Hovering. Watching. Brushing his hand over your lower back when others got too close. His laughs were still loud, his smirk still cocky—but his eyes never left you.

And when Thatch leaned too close over the map table, teasing you about your “distracted little face”, you barely had time to laugh before a familiar heat flared behind you.

Ace.

He slid in between you and Thatch, all easy grin and not-so-easy arm around your waist. “Funny, Thatch. Didn’t know we were handing out shitty pick-up lines today.”

Thatch blinked. “Whoa, relax, firestarter. Just making conversation.”

Ace didn’t answer. Just smiled with too many teeth and pulled you closer. His fingers curled around your hip like a silent dare.

Later that night, you confronted him in the dark corner of the upper deck.

“What the hell was that?”

He leaned against the wall, jaw tight. “Didn’t like him touching you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “We’re not together, Ace.”

His expression twisted. “Don’t care.”

You stepped in, standing between his legs. “So you want me, but you don’t want to say it?”

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist, pulling you down into his lap. “I said I didn’t like it.”

“And what are you gonna do about it?” you whispered.

His lips crashed into yours.

The kiss was rough this time—none of the slow teasing from before. He bit your bottom lip hard enough to sting, then dragged his mouth down to your neck.

“I’m gonna remind you who fucked you so good you couldn’t walk straight the next day,” he growled.

You gasped as he lifted your leg over his thigh, hand sliding between them to cup your heat through your shorts.

“Still wet for me?” he whispered, hot against your ear. “Even after flirting with someone else?”

You rocked your hips into his hand. “Wasn’t flirting.”

“Don’t care.” His voice darkened. “You’re mine. Whether we say it or not.”

He shoved your shorts to the side and slid two fingers in with zero warning, groaning when he felt how ready you were. “This pussy knows who it belongs to.”

You bit down on his shoulder to muffle your cry, legs trembling already.

He fucked you with his fingers, deep and possessive, other hand on your throat—not tight, just there, grounding you in his presence.

Then he pulled out.

You whimpered.

He flipped you, bending you over the wooden railing with your shorts down to your knees, his cock already rock-hard, leaking against your ass.

“You want Thatch to see who this pussy really belongs to?” he growled, lining himself up.

“No,” you panted, arching back into him. “Just you.”

“Damn right.”

He slammed into you in one smooth thrust, deep and unforgiving.

You nearly screamed.

He set a brutal pace, hand gripping your hip, the other sliding up to tangle in your hair, tugging your head back so he could whisper filth against your neck.

“Gonna fill you up,” he hissed. “Make sure you’re leaking me for hours. Maybe then they’ll back the fuck off.”

You clenched hard around him.

He felt it. Smirked against your skin.

“You like that, don’t you? Me claiming you.”

You whimpered, “Yes, fuck—Ace—”

He reached down and rubbed your clit in fast, tight circles, hips stuttering as your walls tightened again.

You came hard, legs shaking, voice hoarse.

Ace followed with a loud, guttural groan, burying himself deep, cock twitching as he filled you to the brim.

You both sagged against the railing, panting, sweaty.

Then, gently, he leaned in and bit your neck—just hard enough to leave a mark.

When he pulled back, his eyes met yours. Still wild. But something softer, too.

“You’re not mine, huh?” he said, voice low.

You stared at him. Heart racing.

Then: “I never said I didn’t want to be.”

He kissed you again. Slower this time.

“Then say it.”

Ace’s voice was rough. Still breathless from how hard he just fucked you against the railing, still trembling slightly from the strength of his own release. His eyes searched yours, shadowed with doubt despite the cocky tilt of his smirk. Like part of him didn’t believe he deserved to hear what you’d say next.

You didn’t hesitate.

“I want to be yours.”

His breath caught.

You cupped his face, thumb brushing the sweat-slick edge of his cheekbone. “I’ve wanted to be. Since before you started stealing my underwear, you idiot.”

That drew a crooked, boyish grin from him, but his eyes shimmered. Soft. Real.

“I didn’t know if you felt the same,” he murmured, voice dipping into something raw and almost shy. “You’re everything I wanted, but I didn’t wanna lose you if I pushed too far.”

You laughed gently and leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You fisted yourself with my panties. I think ‘too far’ left the harbor a long time ago, fire-fist.”

He groaned, letting his forehead fall to your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “You’ll never let that go, will you?”

“Never,” you whispered against his hair, then softened. “But I loved it. Loved knowing you wanted me that badly.”

His grip on your hips tightened slightly. “Still do.”

You felt him harden slightly again, still inside you, your slick heat cradling him perfectly.

His voice dropped to a whisper. “Can I stay in you a little longer?”

You nodded, lips brushing his ear. “Don’t pull out. I want it to stay in me. Want to feel full… yours.”

That broke something in him.

He shifted, just slightly, pulling you both down to the floor of the deck behind a stack of crates where no one could see. He slid your shorts off completely this time, pressing you into his chest as he kissed your temple, your cheeks, your lips—everywhere.

“I’m gonna take care of you now,” he whispered. “Not just like this. I mean all of it. No more games. You’re mine.”

“And you’re mine,” you said, nuzzling against him. “Say it.”

He met your eyes. “I’m yours.”

He rocked into you slowly now. No more frantic thrusts. Just a deep, slow glide that had you gasping all over again.

This time, it wasn’t about claiming.

It was about belonging.

And when you came again—soft, aching, clinging to his shoulders like you’d never let go—he kissed your neck and whispered, “Say it again.”

“I’m yours,” you moaned.

He followed with a low groan, filling you again, staying buried inside you as your bodies molded together like they’d always fit this way.

When you both finally settled, skin sticky with sweat and sea breeze in your hair, you let the silence hold the truth neither of you could ignore anymore.

Whatever you were before—friends, crewmates, a little more—you weren’t just that anymore.

You were his.

And he was very much yours.

[flaresemily]

ᏴᎪͲ ҒᎪᎷᏆᏞᎽ Х ΝᎬᏀᏞᎬᏟᎬᎠ ᎡᎬᎪᎠᎬᎡ.

★ αll Եհís թαíղ í բҽҽl. ís Եհís lօѵҽ? օɾ... ղҽցlҽcԵ?

⚠warning⚠ mention of : torture. Stitches. Burn mark. Neglecting. Please proceed with caution. If you are uncomfortable with this kind of thing please ignored this story. Unless you can take the risk

Masterlist : Part 1

It started small…so small. You were Bruce and Selina's daughter. (Yes you are and today you are not some random woman child)

They all love you. Yes, yes they did. Dick takes you to the park sometimes to Bludhaven. Jason, despite being revived again, is cautious with you. Tim being the smarty pants he is actually teaches you how to do math! Damian? Oh Damian, he loves you.

But that all happened one night. At the age of 6 you notice your eyes color is different from both your parents. Bruce didn't notice yet, not even Selina did.

You know who did? Alfred did. How? Simple. He was preparing you to have a family dinner with the others. Of course you are excited. I mean…who wouldn't?

You were so excited you didn't notice the stairs. You trip down the stairs and say bye bye to your head.

As soon as you wake up, Alfred is there taking care of you while your parents and siblings fall asleep on the floor or couch.

That's when he noticed. His eyes widened. “Miss…your eyes? It's pink?”

You just stare at him wondering. When Bruce wakes up he notices your bright pink eyes. That's when it all went downhill.

Bruce and Selina fight all the time. With Bruce accusing her of cheating and her trying to defend your right. And then the next thing you knew.

Divorce paper was signed and Selina has moved out, returning to her work as Catwoman. You just stand there awkwardly. You guys are probably wondering how the family starts to neglect you.

It's because Bruce started it first. Everytime he looks at you. His eyes fill with betrayal. He started to drink and neglect his work as Batman. When he did become Batman oh boy. He doesn't have mercy on any of the villian.

The boys started to blame you little by little because everytime Bruce made eye contact with you. He felt despair. Those bright pink eyes. He looked back through your old picture and noticed something in your eyes. Each picture where you are. You have dark red eyes. From far it looks like black eyes but it turns out to be dark red. Crimson red like blood.

He never noticed your eye color but he clearly remembers that when you were born you had his hair and eye color so…what changed?

Then, one day after finishing your lunch alone. You hear your mother's voice. You quickly run to where the voice is. And there she is talking with Bruce and Alfred with all the boys assembled there. Then she presents a girl the same age as you. 6 years old. But with blue eyes. Bruce's eyes. You stared at them from afar.

Selina handed Bruce something and he looked shocked. He quickly kneels down and hugs the girl. After he finishes hugging her. He stood up and looked at the boys while smiling. You miss his smile.

“This here is your real sister. Y/n.” He announced. Dick takes the paper and scans the DNA test and damn…it is the same Bruce and Selina DNA that came out positive with the girl. (Something like that idk how to describe it but the DNA is positive about the girl being their daughter.)

You can feel your stomach twist. That's when you run to them. “Papa!” You called out to Bruce. All eyes turn to look at you. Even the girl did. You don't know why but you feel…scared as if you did something wrong. “Papa…” Selina just stares at you.

“Papa? Who is she?” Ask the girl. Jason looks at the little one and replies. “It's nothing she's the new maid Alfred hired to be your playmate. Alfred looks shocked too.

“But master? She–” Bruce raises his hand to signal Alfred to stop talking. “Just like Jason says. Since I can't really throw you out considering the outside is Gotham. Then I have no choice but to take you in. From now on you are no longer Y/n Wayne. I do not have a daughter with pink eyes. You may pick out another name for yourself.” just like that your little heart shattered.

Bruce turns to the other daughter. He picked her up. “But you my dear shall be Y/n Wayne the real Y/n Wayne” he smiled gently at her and Carried her to the living room. You just stared blankly at the place they once stood.

Alfred looks at you and leads you somewhere. “Mis– I mean uhm dear. I'll buy your outfit later, alright?” you just stare at him with betrayal in your eyes. You don't understand why Alfred treats you like this.

Everyday is like hell to you. Not only Bruce and the others openly spoil her. They seem to be abusing you mentally. Apparently this…daughter has some fear. Especially in the dark. Dick will always sleep with her. Sometimes she sleeps with Bruce and sometimes Damian reads her bedtime stories. While you?

You are trained to be the perfect maid for her. Your new name? Well it's [name] now.

(Pls use different name for Y/n and different name for [name])

Years passed by. You don't even remember how many scars you have on your back. One from when Damian was angry with the joker for trying to ‘almost’ kill his precious sister. He was training and you tried to earn his trust. Big mistake. He was so angry that he slash everything on his way. You were 7

While training with his katana he uses a blindfold. He didn't notice it was you and he ‘accidentally’ slash you from In front. Luckily Alfred was there to save you from bleeding too much. Damian never apologized.

Second scar was a burn mark.

You are tasked to bring some tea to Jason as he's tired. In the garage he was fixing his motorcycle. You once again try to earn his trust. Accidentally pick up a crowbar and drag it across the floor. He who heard it immediately went to his ‘survival’ mode.

He literally choke you and hold the teapot close to your left eyes and pour it down. Making you scream in pain. Luckily again Dick was on his way to the garage when he saw this. He quickly pushes Jason away and brings you to the hospital. Sadly the scar is permanent. Jason never apologized. You were 8

The third scar hurts you more. Apparently ‘y/n’ went missing and the family went crazy looking for her. At the same time you went missing too. Coincidence huh.

The kidnapper posted a video where they cut and stitched ‘y/n’ back up again to the batfamily. They all went crazy raiding that place looking for her. When they did. Bruce carries her still bleeding body to the manor. How many stitches does she have?

Let's count!

Both arms - 4 = 2 at each arms

Both legs - 2 = 1 each legs

Stomach - 3 = they cut and stitched back up

Back - 5 = same thing they did to the stomach.

Left chest - 1 = they cut open to see the ‘heart’ in a hurry they didn't stitch it properly.

Bruce was apologizing again and again to her. Key word = her.

Then Tim noticed someone standing at the front door. It's Selina and…y/n!!

Then he looked at the unconscious girl in Bruce's arms and he took off the blindfold and was shocked. It isn't their precious y/n it's you!! Bruce almost let you go but he kept a tight grip. His tears already stop and he takes you inside the manor. The rest of your recovery is tended by Alfred.

That's when Selina tells them she forgets to inform Bruce she's taking y/n for a mother- daughter outing.

You who are barely conscious could only let a tear fall down.

Present time

You are 15 now. Same age as y/n. You [name] l/n. You are forced to abandon your name to some wannabe you. Like it or not hey it's life.

“[name] go hang the laundry please I need to pick up the miss at school.

Your age : 15

Wannabe you : 15

Damian : 17

Tim : 19

Jason : 23

Dick : 26

Bruce : 46 (let's all just pretend okay?)

Selina : 46 (PRETEND OKAY!)

“Yes Alfred.” Being a maid wasn't on your bucket list when you were little but now…you can't complain cause Bruce truly treats you like a maid meaning…

Maid + salary + Wayne manor = a lot of money

So a win-win situation.

After Alfred picks her up from school. You were cooking lunch for them. Before suddenly you feel dizzy. So you quickly cook lunch and lay on the bed in the maid room.

That's when you feel the urge. The urge to bite into something. Your body feels warmer than usual. The next thing you knew you were biting your arm. Which is currently bleeding right now.

‘It hurts! It hurts but it's delicious!’ you think. Through your dizzy state. You didn't realize someone was knocking on your door. Alfred opens your door since you aren't answering.

It was dark. With the curtain closed. And you are not opening the light. He decided to open it. Once he did he saw how messy your room was. “[name] didn't I tell you to clean it up?” He looked around for you cause he clearly heard your voice. Before he could turn around something or someone pounced on him.

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From : Flares Emily

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How was it the ‘part 1’ do you all batfamily x neglected reader lovers want more? COMMENT THEN!! (not me forgetting how taglist work😞)

Part 2