#i think its a sign of regression

[glassiskies]

oh no...im back on my bullshit...

[globalrebrand]

Thinking about this post by @jymwahuwu....what about Capitano with a darling who wouldn't even tell him she's pregnant in the first place?

Warnings: Pregnancy, not sfw, angst, mentions of abortion

Capitano inquires about your recent doctors visit and you just shrug off his concern. Insisting it was just “a mild flu" and “I'll be better soon.” Never one to pry he doesn't push you for more details, even if your marriage is unconventional, he trusts that you would be honest with him considering he's never done anything to make you mistrustful of him. As far as he knows.

Your husband considers going over your head to confirm your condition with the doctor, but he knows that would only upset you. And regardless you’d bribed the doctor with your allowance to keep your pregnancy a secret.

You tell only your trusted ladies maid. Who diligently helps you keep up the ruse, she lets your bodices out and makes sure you don't show in the early months and makes sure you're never offered wine with dinner.

Capitano isn't around enough to notice the small but tell-tale signs that you're expecting, however, for the others who live in the manor it could not be more abundantly clear that you're pregnant.

So imagine his outrage when he hears of your pregnancy, not from your lips as he would have expected, but from one of the maids. It happens late one night when he's in the library reading, trying to find a moment of peace is an endlessly hectic month, while a maid dusts quietly on the upper level. You've made your self scarce recently and begrudgingly Capitano gives you space. Early in your relationship you told him that he was smothering and he accepted the criticism, and they two of you had found a balance, but now you are cold and aloof. You were never one to be vulnerable, and it was precisely a sort of quiet ferocity that you possessed that captivated him, but he was at his wits end. He thought that the two of you were making progress, but he supposes not, the last five months have been a regression. He would need to talk to you soon, the matter has become so distracting that he tunes in to the whispering happening on the upper levels. Another maid has joined the first as they chat languidly about house gossip when the subject turns to you.

"Her ladyship is so fatigued as of late. I'm not used to her being so torpid. It's disheartening." The first maid whispers almost imperceptibly, her words laced with worry.

Capitano stops focusing on his book entirely. They speak quickly and almost inaudibly quiet in their native Snezhnayan tongue, but his keen ears are able to focus perfectly on the conversation.

"Don't worry, I was the same way with my first, energy always came in bursts, though it left almost as quickly as it came." The other maid, older and a mother herself tries to assuage her colleague. "Poor dear, it only gets worse from this point." She sighs.

Confusion twists Capitano's features. He has in inkling of what the maids could be referring to, but if its as he expects he will be utterly irate that you did not tell him. He needs to hear them say it. Say the word and confirm his suspicions.

"Pregnancy sounds so scary. Ah, I still can't believe she hasn't told his Lordship."

"Oh, that I don’t understand at all, my husband would be furious ."

"Indeed." Capitano says aloud, shutting his book with a violent snap and storming out of the library.

He hears the maids gasp before leaving. Both clearly forgot about his presence. Another unexpected symptom of your influence, the staff have become entirely too comfortable.

Capitano ascends the stairs to your shared chambers. You should be getting ready for bed at about this hour and indeed he finds you in your shared bedroom. When he pushes the door open you startle, stopping in your tracks as you cross the room, but you quickly recompose yourself. This lie you've protracted has likely left you completely on edge.

A fire rumbles behind you in the hearth and your nightgown while not normally so visibly transparent became sheer in the light, it was subtle, but your silhouette against the firelight revealed the slightest protrusion of your midsection. You follow his gaze and turn away from him, without so much as a word.

For five months you’ve hardly let him see you naked not to mention you rejected all his attempts to initiate sex for the past three.

If you apprehend the hostility radiating off your husband, you do not acknowledge it. You were surprisingly stubborn and endlessly poised, keeping your cards quite close to your chest until it was time to play your hand. It would likely upset you but he would force you to show your hand, he'd been far too accommodating of your deceit.

You open your mouth to speak but Capitano wants none of your deflections.

"Pregnant? He questions. His tone, assured and firm. No room for argument, but Capitano can tell from your expression that your're willing to try it anyways.

The audacity that you would give him an incredulous look only incenses him further. He has to wonder why you are working so hard to hide your pregnancy from him.

Unless....it wasn't his.

No. You were many infuriating things, but you weren't disloyal...at least he thought.

"What? No--" His anger surges along with another dagger into his heart. Now he knows you’re lying. Or at least attempting to, but Capitano is having none of it. He has never lied to you. How could you so easily try to deceive him? It was dishonorable at best and a betrayal at worst.

"Don't you dare try to lie to me. The maids have already confirmed as much." He bats away your rebuttal with a terse reply.

As you come to realize the gravity of the situation, of your husbands rage, all color drains from your expression. The look of terror that paralyzes your features is out of place. As long as he you have been his wife, you have never even pretended to fear him. It is one of the qualities he admired about you. Now your wide frightful eyes and rigid frame are making him lose his nerve in the confrontation. An incredibly rare occurrence, the last thing Capitano ever wanted was for you to be afraid of him. However you had crossed a line, you had lied and actively misled him about a matter most important to you both.

"You didn't think to tell me?” He questions, the words curt and cruel.

"Well there's nothing you can do about it now." You reply, your tone defensive and your hackles raised. “It’s too late to….to do anything. The baby is coming.”

"Is it mine?" He questions, unfeeling and entirely unprepared for a negative answer.

"… how fucking dare you." You turn around to curse at him and Capitano is taken aback. He thought your eyes couldn't get any wider.

"Of course it is!" You cry, your expression equal parts outrage and hurt.

"Then why did you hide from me!" He matches your anger, raising his voice and stepping closer as you try to sidestep and evade him. The tightly controlled anger he bottled now sparking and bursting.

"I needed time to prepare." You implore exasperated as if Capitano should have understood your machinations perfectly.

"For what?!" He shouts.

"What if you didn't want it?!" You yell back. No tears have spilled but your eyes are wet and your face feels hot.

Capitano narrows his eyes at you, looking down on your defiant posture equal parts terrified and indignant. Then it all comes into focus.

You want this baby and you...thought he would make you get rid of it. With a gasping sob, you speak up again, your emotions now starting to get the better of you.

"What if you didn't want it....then what would I do?"

As intimate as you two have become in the past half year, Capitano remembers that you are both essentially strangers in many ways.

"Never assume my thoughts." He scolds, his tone terse but with much less bark. He closes the space between you, reaching out a tentative hand to you. Capitano is heartened when you take his hand, slender fingers curling around his broad palm. He begins to relax, but his rage has not subsided fully.

"You think I wouldn't want this child?" He questions, his voice much softer, but a slight resentment still colors his words.

"I didn't know what to think and I-I needed time." You replied, rubbing your tears away with your opposite hand. This is the first time he's seen you like this, so vulnerable. Capitano can't confidently say if he'd ever seen your cry before.

“Time for what?” Capitano urges you for more details. Your reasoning still alludes him. He would have gladly helped with any and all preparations for the baby. Seeing how things unfolded he regrets not being more forthcoming with his thoughts about having a child with you.

“To get a plan in place. If you told me to get rid of it.” Capitano can't even concieve of what you could mean. Would you attempt to leave him? Surely you weren't thinking something so idiotic, but he attempts to reserve judgement when he asks, "what would you have done?"

"Run away." You confess quietly, but Capitano only scoffs and rolls his eyes. The idea is preposterous. You will never leave him, Marriage is a bond that should be upheld and besides he is far too attached for you to leave now.

"I would never allow such a thing. You must honor the vows you made to me." Your husband asserts.

"I would still try. For my baby I-" You insist.

"Our baby." Capitano corrects. You pause, your tears dry and breathing calmed.

"I will not allow the child to inconvenience you." You plead, bringing a hand to his chest and searching his eyes, desperate for validation that he wants what you want. That he wants this child growing inside of you.

"No child of ours could ever be a burden to me." Your shoulders drop with relief and Capitano encircles you with his broad arms.

"You honor me most highly, by having my child." Capitano pauses before continuing, "and our child is already blessed to have a mother who would protect them so fiercely."

"You're not angry?" You question, shocked by his benevolence.

"Oh, I'm livid, but not about the child. At that news, I am delighted."

"I'm sorry," you whisper his name and nuzzle into his chest. "I just couldn't face your rejection. Not with this." You clarify and Capitano begins to see your perspective.

A child changes many dynamics in a romantic partnership and though the two of you seemed relatively stable in your young marriage. He can understand how your fear of his rejection would prevent you from being forthcoming. Especially with a matter so sensitive. Not that even remotely agrees with your actions.

"Is this why you have shied away from me these past month. Why you wouldn't let me touch you?"

You nodded.

Capitano picked you up and laid you on the bed, pushing your night gown up and spreading you legs. He licked his thumb and immediately began to caress your clit.

"You will not hide yourself from me in the future. I must know your thoughts."

You shuddered at the contact.

"Then you must do the same.” You demanded. Capitano could only smile at your gall, to be beneath him legs spread, pussy exposed and still you make demands of him.

"Behave this evening, sufficiently demonstrate your contrition, renew your devotion to me and I will give you anything you ask for." You consider his words before agreeing.

You nod again.

“Say yes husband.” Capitano requests with a raised brow.

"Yes, husband." A rare act of obedience. It suits you well.

Good. Capitano thinks. "I'm glad the terms are agreeable to you." He says lowering himself briefly to press a kiss to your lips, one much deeper and needier than any shared in recent months. Archons, how he's missed being with you like this.

Reluctantly Capitano parts from you and begins to undress himself, one hand working the buttons of his shirt while the other remains steadfast teasing your sex.

"You can start your penance by tending to me as I lick your cunt." Capitano’s smile grows wider as you shiver at his words, clearly aroused an eager. Despite the small pout that lingers on your lips. He heard that the libido of pregnant women was often more intense. You stubborn thing, denying yourself what you so clearly want. It is good that Capitano is in a forgiving mood. Your husband helps you out of your nightdress before laying beside you. He helps guide your hips to his face and keeps a guiding hand on your neck as he leads you to where he aches most. Capitano presses his nose to your dripping sex and inhales deeply. "It's been far too long since we last did this." He all but groans, and despite everything that’s transpired this evening, you're inclined to agree.

[pineconepie]

Parental yandere mafia dad who kidnaps you takes you in <3

TW: Mentions of death, platonic yandere, forced age regression, infantilization

...

You know this is stupid, but you have no choice in the matter.

The worst thing is, its not even your fault you're in this situation. A family member made some horrible choices with a huge, well-known mob, and they died before they could pay off the debt they owe.

So, it falls on your shoulders now.

They said if you could do some favors for them, they'd let you live a peaceful life and never bother you again.

But either way, it seemed like death was almost inevitable.

"Hey person who has no experience with mob bosses and cartels, go gather intel on one of the world's most feared mob boss without getting caught! We're sure you'll do great!"

You're sure they're aware you probably won't turn up alive.

That's besides the point. You had a job to do.

And this is why you've found yourself here, entering a huge building with obnoxiously bright neon lights, the air smelling heavily of alcohol.

Its both a casino and nightclub, you figure, as you see a few gambling tables along with a large dance floor, and a bar in the far back. The ground is a little sticky beneath your shoes, and some weirdo bumps into you, clearly drunk.

The guy they asked you to gather information about is none other than Vincent Brewer. From what you've heard, he's ruthless, sadistic, fearless, and loves to flaunt his wealth and success.

His group, Cryo, dabbles in a little bit of everything.

Selling guns, manufacturing weapons, running casinos, killing those that piss them off... All things like that.

So of course, you're terrified out of your mind.

But you manage to make it past the bouncer and enter inside.

Its a nice place, despite all the crimes you're sure happened here. A lot cleaner than you'd expect for such an area.

Almost immediately, you see none other than Vincent himself.

He has short blond hair, hazel-green eyes, and a black suit with a trench coat draped over his shoulders.

He's smirking as he talks to what you presume are other members of Cryo. Vincent is pretty well-known for that smile. It's rare he ever drops it.

You wonder if its because he genuinely finds joy in anything and everything or because he feels the need to come off as tough or domineering. Knowing how much power he wields, it's probably both.

There's no time to stand and stare, though.

You approach, pretending to be one of them, but before you can back out and regret your decisions, he already has his eye on you. You feel like a rabbit trying to convince a den of wolves that you're one of them. And this is the biggest, meanest, hungriest wolf in the world.

"Well, hello," Vincent says. His smile doesn't leave his face, but softens a tiny bit. He looks you up and down. "I don't believe we've met. Are you new?"

Your hands are clammy and trembling, but you put on a fake smile and offer to shake his hand. "Yeah! I'm... (Y/n)." For a moment, you hesitate, considering maybe you should give a fake name just in case, but looks like it's too late for that.

Now that you think about it, you're definitely sure you were sent on a death-mission. Those people didn't even give you proper training.

"(Y/n), huh?" Vincent asks, shaking your hand. He's got a firm grip, as you expected. "Nice to meet you, kiddo. You seem a bit young to be one of my recruits, though." He brushes some hair out of your face, making you tense.

"I guess I look a bit younger than I am," you mutter. "I'm an adult, if that's what you're worried about."

He laughs at that. "Well, that's good! I'd hate to hear how a kid ended up with us!" Then he ruffles your hair, which is a bit embarrassing, but he seems so nice about it that it's not unbearable. "You're just a baby compared to almost everyone in this room. I think I'll need to tell the employees to make sure you don't drink or gamble. That's for grown-ups."

You relax when you realize he's teasing you.

Maybe that's a good sign? "It's okay, I don't really do either of those often, anyway."

Vincent lets out another chuckle, putting a hand on your back, leading you through the crowds and towards where the tables are. There's lots of other people sitting, talking, drinking, laughing. Playing cards or chess or something like that.

Just a bunch of regular casino things.

So far, so good.

This might actually end up working out after all...

"So why exactly did you want to join us?" Vincent asks as he sits you down at one of the chairs, pulling his own chair up next to yours. "Come from a wealthy family? Orphans? Wanted to get off the streets?"

You rub the back of your neck awkwardly, thinking of a suitable lie you'll remember for later. "Ah... I needed the money... Medical bills and stuff. Don't have any family to rely on anymore. Thought maybe if I could save up enough money, I wouldn't need to worry anymore..."

It's kind of true. After you get the information, they said they would reward you with enough cash to pay off whatever was still owed.

But whether that will ever actually happen is yet to be seen.

The more pressing issue was how Vincent would react. So far, so good. He hasn't questioned anything. Just nodded his head sympathetically and hummed at your explanation.

You continue. "And plus, Cryo seems really cool. No pun intended."

"Well, that's nice of you to say," he replies with a laugh. "We try our best around here. You seem a little jittery, though. I hope I don't scare you, kiddo?"

"I mean..." You can't really admit the real reason without outing yourself. He sounds like a man that wants to be feared by everyone. "I think this is just a new environment to me. I don't do too well with crowds."

Vincent nods understandably, patting your shoulder. "Makes sense. It is kinda noisy in here, huh? Sorry about that. Normally we're not like this, but tonight is a party night since we made a pretty big deal recently, as you're aware."

You nod, pretending to know what he's talking about. "Oh, yeah, I heard about that." This means you've already failed step one of your task - being updated on current deals - but that's okay. There's plenty of time to get the intel later. Right?

His eyes darken slightly, but his smile never leaves. "And besides... Can't say we're the nicest group of folks, either." He pokes your cheek and laughs again. "I'm worried this might be too much for you."

"Really, its okay!" you argue. "I'm a lot tougher than I look, I swear!"

He snorts. "You look like a puppy surrounded by wolves. Even if you're tougher than you look, it makes you an easy target. People are gonna be more quick to try to take you out instead of someone bigger than them."

Is he insulting you or genuinely concerned? You hope he's joking and teasing again. "I'll prove I'm strong enough to fit in! You won't have to worry about me one bit. And I can help out Cryo a lot, I promise!" You don't know why you're getting defensive over his condescending tone.

Vincent only seems amused by it, more than he already was. He pinches your cheeks between his fingers, smiling sweetly down at you. "Ohh, I'm sure you're veerrry strong, sweetie."

He sounds patronizing, in that overly-sweet way, as if speaking to a toddler.

He rubs your cheek a few times before leaning back and releasing you. "I think I'll let you stay if you answer one question for me, how 'bout that?"

You nod. "Of course. Anything."

His smile becomes more sharp. "Who sent you?"

"W-what?" Your mouth feels dry. The whole mood shifts, and suddenly it feels much less welcoming, making your stomach churn in panic.

Did you get caught that easily? How did you mess up? Maybe he's just bluffing.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Vincent stares down at you, eyes now narrowed. "You aren't fooling anyone, doll. We have extensive background checks before any of our members can even begin to be considered eligible for recruitment. I personally meet every single one of our new recruits to approve them and remember all of their names. Not only that, but I lied about a recent deal. There was no recent deal."

Your heart starts beating faster in your chest. You feel cold sweat dripping from your forehead.

He saw through you so quickly. Does he already know why you're here?

If you lie again, you're not sure you'll make it out of here alive. "Scarlet Syndicate sent me. I owe them debt, I'm not part of them... please don't kill me."

The man snickers and leans back against his chair again. "Oh, you poor thing. Its pretty clear they aren't expecting you to come back to them with info. They probably sent you here to die or get lost and forgotten about. That's cruel, even by my standards. They set you up for failure." His voice softens up. "You're shaking..."

You're hyperventilating a little, panicking. "I don't wanna die."

Vincent coos at you gently, wrapping a secure arm around you and pulling you into his lap. "Shhh, shh, hey... relax, kiddo, I'm not gonna kill you... I would never hurt such a precious little sweetheart." He kisses your head. "Calm down. Breathe in, breathe out..."

You listen to him and do as instructed.

Taking in deep breaths through the nose, letting them out from your mouth slowly. He rubs gentle circles along your back until you relax against him. He secures you in a firm hold and lifts you up against his chest.

Even for a mob boss, he has an impressive amount of strength to carry you with almost no effort.

You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck.

He smirks at you again. "Aww... does baby wanna be carried everywhere now?" Though its teasing, its also affectionate. You find yourself nodding regardless.

Vincent walks out with you still in his arms, ignoring his colleagues' confused gazes. You can see the exit sign coming closer and closer.

Once you leave the building, he puts you inside a limousine with him, shutting the door behind. He gathers you in his arms after shedding his long beige trench coat, wrapping it around you and engulfing you like a blanket.

This man you hardly even know just called you 'baby.'

You're not quite sure what to make of that.

"Home," he tells the driver. And then he looks down at you. "You really are a little baby, huh?"

You don't know how to react to this sudden display of parental behavior, except stare in confusion.

He pulls you into his lap. "I always wanted a kid of my own, you know. But unfortunately, fate decided I couldn't have any of my own. Well, guess it doesn't matter now!" His eyes flicker across your face. "As soon as I saw you, I could tell you needed someone to take care of you. Like a dad."

"But..." you sniffle. "I'm not a kid."

"Maybe not physically, but I can tell mentally. And you should be grateful for that. I usually don't let any spies live long enough to see another day," Vincent says. "So what do we say?"

You hesitate. "...thank you?"

"You're very welcome, munchkin. When we get you home, we'll have some late dinner and then its bedtime for you," Vincent coos.

"I usually go to bed a lot later than this," you protest.

"Nope, not anymore," he argues back, petting your hair. "As much as I want to be the fun dad, rules are rules. Bedtime will be 8:30 PM for you everyday starting from now on, got it?"

You guess you don't really have a choice.

Not in a million years did you expect this outcome of you being caught spying, but hey, its better than death by gunshot!

The limousine stops outside a huge penthouse.

Vincent carries you out of the vehicle and holds your hand as he leads you to the elevators. Inside, there's a deskman who waves at him. You shyly wave back, a bit unsure.

"This is (Y/n). They'll be staying with me from now on," Vincent explains to him. "If you see them trying to leave without me, call security and tell them to escort them back to my place. And notify me."

"Yes, sir," he agrees, then looks back at you. "Nice to meet you (Y/n). I'm August. If you need anything, feel free to ask!"

You stare at him, then Vincent, dumbfounded.

Vincent pulls you along. "Come on, baby. Let's go home."

Inside the elevator, you're left in shock, speechless. It goes high up - the top floor - before arriving at a large, fancy room.

He unlocks the door to reveal his apartment.

The entire thing is covered with plush rugs, sleek furniture, shiny marble floors, beautiful lights... Everything you'd expect in a multi-millionaire's home, including but not limited to a grand piano sitting in the middle of the living room and two full-size couches in front of a flatscreen TV, and what looks to be some kind of bar or wine cabinet.

"You can explore more tomorrow," Vincent tells you. "Until then, let's get dinner over with and then bedtime. Tomorrow we can discuss how you want your room to look like, clothes, toys, that stuff. Sound good?"

"Yeah," you mumble in agreement.

Vincent sets you down on the sofa, where you watch him grab a remote off of the coffee table.

He turns on the television and flips through channels before settling on something he deemed suitable, which happens to be some sort of children's cartoon.

He begins cooking in the other room, and you're still in too much shock to even think of trying to escape.

This all feels so surreal.

Twenty minutes later, he calls you into the kitchen and has you sit down next to him while he serves you both food.

It's decent, his cooking skills aren't amazing, but decent. You don't mind eating it, though he does give you a stern look when you don't eat all your vegetables.

Afterwards, he guides you upstairs into what appears to be the guest room, saying he'll redecorate it to fit you later. He excuses himself for a moment, coming back with yellow silk pajamas for you to change into. You do so as he turns around to give you some privacy.

When you finish dressing up, he has you brush your teeth, then wash your hands thoroughly. Finally, he helps you climb into the bed, tucking you beneath the blankets.

You can't help but admit that the mattress is really nice.

Vincent smiles down at you kindly. "I'm glad we found each other today, kiddo." He kisses your forehead. "Dad will stay here until you fall asleep, yeah?"

Of course, you don't argue. He watches you like a hawk until eventually, you close your eyes and drift away.

[orphiclovers]

I think what would greatly benefit everyone's understanding of orv's worldbuilding is a passing aquaintance with the Cthulhu wiki. and this is the one and only case where the wiki is a BETTER source of information than the original works by Lovecraft, because the Cthulhu mythos is a "collaborative writing shared universe" and who's worldbuilding is vague and contradictory between authors. think Maurauders fandom or SCP foundation, only more classy than fanfiction.

Anyway, ORV takes a lot from the Cthulhu mythos, because it takes a lot from every myth in the world. The whole Outer God thing will make a lot more sense if you know what its supposed to be, the same way its easier to understand the Olympus constellations if you know the greek gods and their myths. The Majority of characters in orv are real mythological or historical figures and the outer gods are no different, I and maybe you are just less familiar with them.

Heres a small glossary of relevant information:

1. "great old ones" are sometimes mentioned in orv as spying on Kim Dokja, and mentioned by other Outer Gods as the most powerful beings. they're from the lovecraft stories.

They are "beyond imagination" i.e beyond Oldest Dream's Star Stream/the universe comprehended by humans and exist outside of it.

2. "The Great One" is what outer gods in ORV call the Oldest Dream. He seems to be the only Great One in the orv universe, but In the myths there are multiple and are described like this.

Gods of the dreamlands->oldest dream the connection is there. Take notice of how the Great One is protected by Nyarlathotep, hes important.

3. Have you ever wondered what was up with those "Shantaks" living in N'gai forest? These are from the myths too.

They have horse head like in orv and Nyarlathotep rules over/is allied with them.

4. The Nameless Mist that attacks the 73rd demon realm and causes KDJ to sign the outer god contract with SP and get sent to 1863rd round is also an Outer God from the myths. Specifically, it is one of Nyarlathotep's siblings.

5. Best for last, there is of course Nyarlathotep himself i.e The Crawling Chaos i.e Secretive Plotter.

Kim Dokja straight up thinks that SP is Nyarlathotep and calls him that to his face. he is right. While SP "neither confirms or denys being the Crawling Chaos/Nyarlathotep" he obviously...is him. (SP lies about his identity a lot. but this time he didnt even say he WASNT, just that it doesnt matter and to call him SP please). SingShong basically plagiarised everything about him completely from lovecraft

First of all, in their first meeting SP looks like a black shadow person with glowing white eyes, which is why Kim Dokja drew the conclusion that he was Nyarlathotep, since this is how he looks too

Nyarlathotep is the avatar of other outer gods an has a clear personality and is more rational and human than the rest (KDJ says this bout SP too)- he hates his masters (like SP hates his sponsor).

Kim Dokja once says that SP is like no other outer god because he actually speaks human language and can communicate clearly and rationally. Nyarlathotep is the only outer god who can do that and is the messager of them.

The event referenced here where Nyarlathotep causes people to go insane is mentioned in ORV too, as SP talked to the Recorders of Fear and drove them to insanity. He has darkness powers and knows the future of the universe that no one else does.

He looks like a human being and has a thousand different forms (like the different regressions).

He can shapeshift and possess people (SP does both. shapeshifts into YJH and possesses him)

Also as previously mentioned he protects the Great One (OD) and rules over Shantaks in the forest. On top of looking exactly like Nyarlathotep and having the same abilities as him and the same role and traits and literally getting told "You are Nyarlathotep" by Kim Dokja I think it is pretty safe to say that he IS Nyarlathotep.

Also, the reason why KDJ thinks SP can beat The Nameless Mist and calls him is because he thinks that is SP's/Nyarlathotep's sister. which is just kind of funny to me. go get your sibling dude its eating my planet

[dooberific]

Hello~! I love reading your work so much hehe, I'm not entirely sure if you are open for requests so please disregard if you aren't. Can I request Harumasa and reader that they first met in the hospital as kids due to having the same disease and once they were discharged they simply forgot about eachother. Then one day, they met again (pure coincidence) and had a happy reunion. Maybe throw a childhood friends to lovers, fluff hehe. Thank you!

Subjecting reader to Ether Aptitude Regression Syndrome is a more popular thought than I anticipated.

Still working on other requests as I have time, it took me way too long to do this but in my defense I’m back in the dregs of Uni.

❝ 𝘎𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘴 ❞

harumasa x afab!reader

genre: slice of life ig?? Reads pretty platonically imo, runs vaguely parallel to his agent story largely without reader interference (we keep it as canon as we can). Reader has ether aptitude regression syndrome.

summary: He didn't think ghosts from the past were so bright or so loud as the one that finds him at Port Elpis.

wc: 4.8k

Port Elpis was a lonely place. 

But that was just his opinion on the matter. 

Maybe in the eyes of the children that sat joyfully chattering next to their grandfather as they fished off the pier it would be a place full of happy memories, or the perfect backdrop for a romantic encounter for the lovers who walked wistfully along the seaside. 

But he had neither a family nor a lover to enjoy such memories with, and with his frail body perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing. “To live with no regrets” felt like an honorable way to go. There would be no one deeply hurt by his loss, no one to leave flowers at his grave, and just as briefly as his time was slated to be on the earth the memory of his existence would fade into nothingness. 

So he would quietly enjoy his solitude, savor the time like it was sweet on his tongue, and pretend for just a moment that life wasn’t as abbreviated as fate demanded it to be by capturing it through the immortal lens of his camera. 

The birds that floated in the sea breeze. Patterns of stone left in the sand by a previous visitor. The view from the top of the lighthouse. Colorful boats bobbing in the sea. The lights over the water at night. 

The scenery rarely changed but that didn’t matter, it was an excuse to feel the warm kiss of the sun on his skin and feel the whisper of the sea air tickle his weakened lungs, to pretend that once he returned to the quiet of his apartment that every image he took wouldn’t be doused in a deep greytone as if some secret melancholy bared its teeth and drained his day of its vitality. 

He still got the images developed but he stopped looking at them. They felt too much like having one foot in the grave, the hazy discoloration something he associated more with the burning dread that buzzed in his veins and prickled at his eyes when the ether became too overwhelming. He could save himself the money and the effort, stop taking photos he would never want to look at again, but it was never so peaceful for his troubled mind in any other place.

The sky was overcast, heavy clouds threatening to rain their contents down upon the world as the wind nipped viciously at his skin. The normal residents of the Port were nowhere to be seen, all the buildings neatly closed in the anticipation of inclement weather. 

He could have taken it as a sign to make himself scarce as well, return home and curl up on his couch while the weather passed and not risk catching a cold, but if his day was meant to be spent in dreary solitude he would rather take the moment to feel it against his skin than hide away with no company other than his own thoughts. 

Being soaked to the bone and riding the high of his careless actions would be a better fate than sitting with his thoughts that seemed more heavily laden with dread as the days passed. 

So he stayed. 

He stayed as his hair matted to his skin, heavy with rainwater that soaked through his clothes and stained his camera lens. His camera would be ruined for sure, it wasn’t waterproof after all, but he could buy a new one. He wasn’t good at saving money for a long time anyways.

The pictures would be terrible and blurry, all doused in their own dreary grey even as he continued to take photos. There was no warmth to be found in the once pleasant landscape, and he was prepared to give up all hope for salvaging his mood which was now as waterlogged as his sneakers before a vibrant color flashed to life across his streaked lens.

He lowered his camera, squinting into the onslaught of rain that rolled the waves viciously against the pier. It was an unfamiliar boat bobbing on the waves, outriggers neatly folded to attention. The vessel itself lacked any colorful ornamentation, the flash of color he had seen belonging instead to the figure that worked diligently on the deck. 

A bright orange pair of overalls.

He wasn’t expecting to see the boat again the next time he returned to the Port, but there sat the trawler at the end of the pier accompanied by orange overalls. He could put a face to the choice of colorful outerwear now, or the beginnings of one from where he stood. He had no reason to get closer, he wasn’t on particularly warm terms with anyone at the Port, so it took him by surprise when your face appeared so suddenly within the viewfinder one day. 

“Excuse me?” 

He startled, quickly dropping his camera from where he held it. 

Orange overalls.

“Have we met before?”

The question was innocent as it rolled from your lips, the rubbery exterior of your overalls squeaking as you shifted on your feet. Your gaze was intense but non threatening, more brimming with curiosity than anything as you studied his features closely.

“Sorry if it’s sudden,” your laugh was awkward. “I’ve just seen you around here a lot and couldn’t shake the feeling.” 

There was no need for you to apologize, he had also been struck with an uncanny sense of recognition the longer he looked at you as well.

“I get that a lot.”

 Your question was genuine but he couldn’t help the lie that pushed past his teeth. It was rare for him to be mistaken for someone else, especially when he was in the city. If you detected his deception you didn’t show it, clicking your tongue thoughtfully as you pointed at him.

“Middle school?”

Oh, so you were still convinced you had met before.

He shook his head. “No.”

“University?”

“Nope.”

“The grocery store?”

“You remember everyone you see at a grocery store?”

Your brow furrowed. “Guess not.” 

He was confounding you at every turn it seemed, but the nagging feeling of familiarity had yet to leave. You had grown quiet, gnawing your lip thoughtfully.

Your fingers snapped suddenly. “I’ve got it, were you… in the hospital for a while as a kid?”

“I was.”

Before you answered a distant call floated over the waves. He couldn’t make out the words but your head quickly whipped around, arm raising above your head with a dramatic wave.

“I’m coming!” You yelled back before shooting him an apologetic grin. “Sorry for bothering you, I guess I’ll see you around.”

He watched your figure recede down the pier, the thumping of your boots on the wood fading as you rapidly went out of earshot. 

Your next interactions were cyclic, short conversations with speedy exits as you would run back to your boat. He had some inclination to believe you had a homing beacon centered on him, as you managed to find him despite his frequent location changes, beaming at him with the same warm expression that nearly rivaled the brightness of your orange overalls.

You never mentioned your first conversation again nor asked his name, instead asking him random questions as they seemed to strike your fancy. About his favorite food, his favorite color, movie recommendations, if he had any pets, what he liked taking pictures of so much that he returned almost daily. It was largely nonsensical, and he found you harder to read with each passing day because your eyes seemed to sparkle as if the tiny bits of knowledge he divulged had painted some elaborate picture of him in your mind. 

Even with you sharing little tidbits of your own monotonous life you had tied his mind into intricate knots. Your father was a fisherman, more precisely a shrimper you had proudly proclaimed as you undid the straps of your overalls to show him the pink shrimp decal on the back of your sweatshirt. You never mentioned a mother or any siblings, nor any friends. You liked to swim but couldn’t do it often. Your favorite color was a very precise shade of pink, and you liked to read books about personality types and astrology when you weren’t busy. Mindless details that gushed from your mouth with absurd passion. 

Somedays he wasn’t sure if it was the sun or your vivacious personality that warmed him more, your happy-go-lucky mood infectious as you chattered away. You were quickly becoming part of his routine, strolling alongside him spewing silly facts about sea animals or begging him for little details on his day. 

Your characteristic orange overalls had been featured in some of his photography as well, cheerfully adding a splash of color to even the dreariest backdrops. You made shrimp nets look pleasant and the creatures even more so as you ran up to him, pulling one from your pocket as you waved it at him like a child with a centipede just to sneak it into his own pocket before he left. 

For once everything seemed dripping with color, the thrill of seeing your glowing visage as you waved at him from the deck of your father’s boat turning his stomach in a pleasantly warm manner. 

He broke his own rule. He got comfortable with someone else, comfortable in his limited time, in his own skin, and he missed the little signs until it was glaring in his face. 

The sun was warm enough that the sound of the waves was nearly sufficient to lull him to sleep as he sat dangling his legs off the pier, the water teasing his soles in a silent ploy to drench his socks. The day was quiet, almost uncomfortably so and he wasn’t sure why. Port Elpis was always lively when the weather was pleasant, but there was a nagging sense of unease that drew his lips into a firm line.

You weren’t around. 

He felt silly. The two of you weren’t close by any means, acquaintances more than friends. There was no reason to miss you, you were nothing but a loud disruption to his day. He didn’t even know your name. 

But if that was really all you were to him he shouldn’t have felt his gut twist unpleasantly when he realized your absence, nor when he finally saw you and realized you didn’t look well.

You looked haggard and pale, movements sluggish as if it demanded too much energy to fully pick up your feet. There was a constant grimace painted across your face, like each movement was laced with pain. You scarcely looked his way as you approached, eyes sunken. 

“Oh, hey,” you spoke through gritted teeth as your eyes wavered weakly. Even now you did your best to wave, hands trembling fiercely. “I can’t hang out today, sorry.”

“You’re sick.”

It was a matter-of-fact statement, no longer an observation. He would recognize that look anywhere, he had seen it a thousand times growing up. 

“Were you… in the hospital for a while as a kid?” 

He shouldn’t have been thoughtless. It was out of character for him to not pry into every tiny detail of the life of a stranger that had so unceremoniously pushed into his life, like a flower sprouting from a sidewalk crack. With a little effort he was sure he would have unearthed a medical history as extensive as his own, all starting from the same place with a name he tried desperately to forget. 

He rubbed the choker at his neck. He’d never seen your nape either, strategically covered by the hood of your jacket or a high necked top. He’d never questioned you on the days when you lied poorly to his face about why you had a limp, or why you looked so tired, always claiming it had been a long day and nothing more. 

Some highly trained intelligence officer he turned out to be.

“Let me help you.” The words came out faster than his body moved, swinging his legs back up onto the pier. 

“It’s okay.” You reassured, weakly attempting to wave him off. “It’s not that serious, I’m just tired.”

“Tired my ass, you’re sick.” He hissed. “This isn’t something you can play around with, now let me help you.”

You were lighter than he thought you were, but maybe he had anticipated more muscle to be hidden under the frumpy layers you wore daily. You smelled like a fishing boat but not in a way he found unpleasant, your arms wrapped around his neck as he carried you down the pier on his back. He could feel your body trembling. 

“I’m sorry.” You muttered regretfully, forehead pressed against his shoulder as he stepped off the pier and onto your boat, his step wavering for just a moment before he regained his balance. 

“Stop apologizing.” He chided as you directed him to where your room was under the deck. The space was awkward to navigate with you on his back, but if he experienced any difficulty he didn’t verbalize it, dutifully depositing you on your unmade bed. 

“I really am sorry though.” He wouldn’t be able to convince you it was fine, but he would be able to shoot you a disapproving look as he grabbed the heel of your boot and slid it off before giving the other the same treatment. 

You frowned, shifting as if you were uncomfortable in your own skin. “I’ve bothered you on your time off.”

“You’ve never bothered me.”

He tugged on the leg of your overalls, he would have to commend you on your dedication. As if interpreting his cue you unlatched the shoulder straps, allowing him to help you slide them off before he discarded them on top of your boots. At least you dressed comfortably beneath them, though he would let the ridiculous sparkly fish patches on your sweats go this time. 

He tossed your comforter over your head. “But you will bother me if you don’t rest.” 

You didn’t protest, flipping the fabric off your face with a huff. You knew he was right. 

“Hurry up and get better, I’m not going to wait forever.” He said curtly as he stepped into the hallway, pulling your door shut behind him.

“Wait!” 

He paused, the door hanging ajar. “What is it?”

You swallowed thickly, tongue fuzzy. “(Y/n). My name is (y/n).” 

His hand tightened on the doorknob. 

“Harumasa.”

The door shut, but Pandora’s theoretical box had already been opened.

He remembered you.

They called you the luckiest unlucky child in the world. It was a ridiculous name that you seethed at because you found nothing of your situation lucky. Your mother had claimed the record for longest lived patient with Ether Aptitude Regression Syndrome, but such distinction meant very little when your father stood over her grave cradling you in his arms. 

Within a few years you would look just like her, idle in a hospital bed with numerous lines running from your thin, veiny arms as they kept you so sedate the childish glow in your eyes had faded into a drug induced stupor. 

You were lucky to be born, and unlucky enough to survive.

Most days were good, you were strong and vital as if the ugly veins of your illness didn’t lurk just below the skin. You ran through the halls, constantly attempted to escape to the lush yard of the hospital, sat with the other kids after they got out of surgery to give them offerings of crude crayon drawings and wild stories of swimming in the ocean and the creatures within it. 

But your bad days were palpable, the halls silent without you there to fill the air with wild stories and laughter. No one visited you when you had a flare up, tears and snot streaking your face as you silently cried through the pain that ignited every nerve ending in your body in such a way that even the act of breathing hurt in a near unbearable manner. 

Your father would sit in your room for hours at a time in those moments, anxious over your worsening condition up until the moment they barred him from seeing you. Before the week was over he had a court order that relinquished you of their care and returned you to him. 

The day you left, Harumasa had resigned himself to the fact that he would never see you again. The likelihood of either of you surviving childhood was slim enough, but to dream of meeting in a place outside the walls of the hospital was an idea even he didn’t dare consider. 

Seeing you now, seeing you grown, was almost enough to make him believe some good deity watched over the world and deemed you too kind to die young.

He would have to find a new place to seek solace, Port Elpis was becoming something dangerously close to the memories he sought to repress, but his body acted on autopilot and brought him back every day without fail.

One week turned into two, and just as the third was cresting you reappeared with a smile on your face.

You were stupid to take your health so lightly.

He was stupid to let himself become invested.

“I remember you!” Were the first words you said after reuniting with him, swinging your legs off the pier as you sat so close beside him your shoulders pressed together.

“It’s just been a few weeks, I’d be concerned if you didn’t.” 

You pouted, elbowing his side. “You know that’s not what I mean. I remember you from before, from the hospital.”

“Looks like we both grew up well, huh? But I guess you did better than me. Is it creepy to admit that I searched your name on the InterKnot?” If you were truly embarrassed it failed to show, a low whistle passing your lips. “Section 6, you went and became a real bigshot.” 

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

You swung your head low, teetering dangerously on the edge of the pier as you jutted your face into his line of sight. Your eyes sparkled with the same mirth that curled the corners of your lips. “Says the guy that doesn’t work on a shrimp boat. Take the compliment, even I’m proud of how far you came.”

You kicked at his ankle. “Not many of us have the chance to say that.”

Ah. There you went again, reminding him of a twisted past he couldn’t shake. Sure, his therapist thought it would do him good to confront the ghosts of his childhood, but he liked to disagree (if him promptly claiming he was “done with therapy” and “thanks for your time, doc” before walking out and never returning their calls had anything to say about it). There were too many things he wasn’t ready to face head-on, even if they crawled from the pits of despair and grasped at his ankles so fiercely that the thought alone slowed him down. 

But it did stir back the embers that burned his gut with unease from an interaction he had not that far in the past.

“Has anyone from the hospital tried to contact you recently?”

“Well yeah, they are all worried about my condition after my flare up.”

“Not that hospital.” He clarified. “The old one.”

Your eyes danced across the scenery for a moment, lips pursed in thought before you shook your head. “Nope, not that I can remember. Why?”

He left out a relieved sigh, shoulders slouching momentarily. He still wasn’t sure what his Master’s assistant wanted, or why he suddenly appeared before him now trying to toy with his feelings using other sick children as emotional leverage, but at least he hadn’t found you yet. He fished his phone from his pocket, unlocking it as he handed it to you.

“Put your number in there. There’s no reason for us to be strangers.” 

He was blatantly evasive, and you could certainly tell but you didn’t raise any qualms as you typed in your phone number. “Signal is spotty when we go out of the Port, so if I don’t answer quickly don’t get all worried thinking I got kidnapped or died or something.” You warned as you passed his phone back before puffing out your chest proudly. “I like to think I’ve still got a few good years in me.”

His smile when he looked at you was so sincere you nearly toppled off the pier in shock, one hand quickly planting against his cheek as you forcefully turned his head away while the other gripped the fabric of your shirt over your heart.

“Those interknot forums weren’t kidding,” your tone was distressed as you looked away from him, “your smile really is a deadly weapon.”

He laughed. He laughed at you, at the absurd way you managed to turn a rapidly darkening conversation into something ridiculous and sugary sweet. It was as novel as a syrupy popsicle on a hot day, the aghast and shy way you—the natural enemy of public embarrassment—had now turned. 

It was bright, vital, blooming with a color he didn’t think he could find in the world anymore.

Then it all grew violently dull.

[ Shrimp Girl ] Someone from the old hospital came to see me today

[ Shrimp Girl ] I think he said his name was Kirishima?

His stomach plummeted as he read your message in the wee hours of the morning, and it didn’t abate until he laid eyes on you working diligently at the Port a few hours later. The morning sun had yet to crest the horizon, the air hanging thick and grey with morning dew. You stood out like a traffic cone, bundled in a few extra layers to fend off the cold as you worked. 

It was his hurried footsteps down the pier that alerted you to his presence, a smile on your face as you waved at him. “You’re here early. What’s with the serious face?”

The scent of the sea and the creatures you had skimmed out of the water was almost noxious to his sensitive nose. He was afraid he only tolerated the smell when it lingered on your clothes. His nose wrinkled as he nonchalantly lifted a hand to it as if it would help the smell abate.

“I just needed to make sure you were alright. What did Kirishima want?”

“Nothing.” You said with a shrug. “He didn’t ask for anything, just the usual small talk you get from doctors. You know, “can’t believe you made it this long” and “you look great”, stuff like that.” 

He was beginning to question your survival instincts, anxiety bubbling in his gut. Kirishima may not have shown his true colors yet, but it was suspicious that he showed up looking for you after years of radio silence. His own personal connection to Kirishima made it less surprising, but his link to you was still vague and incomplete.

“Now that I think about it, he did mention that he’s working on some new drug, said he might open a trial for it soon.”

His blood ran cold, a hand quickly wrapping around your wrist. The serious expression he wore was new for you, his features usually relaxed when you ran into him. 

“Please don’t take anything he gives you.” 

You nodded slowly, feeling his fingers firm against your pulse.

“I’m going to be busy for a few days, so don’t look for me.” His grip faltered, slipping from your wrist to hook around the crook of your fingers. They were cold, not unlike his own. 

He didn’t owe you an explanation or some promise of a timeline. He could walk away from the Port and never turn back, find out what Kirishima wanted and pretend seeing a ghost from his past never occurred, but seeing the concern that knitted your brows at his words was enough to make him regret the sharpened tone he had used. He toyed with your fingers.

“I’ll buy you a nice meal when I get back, so don’t get worked up thinking I’m never returning or something.” 

You hooked his pinky around your own. 

“I’ll hold you to it then.” 

He was grateful your boat wasn’t in the Port the day he separated the children from Kirishima, something about the idea of you being far away from that place coming as a welcome relief. The kids would have liked you, loved you even. While he could put on a brave face and lie through his teeth you were so charmingly real that he had little doubt you would have been an inspiration, but you were too soft and there were too many hands yet to be revealed. 

You would have been another worry to plague his mind, and with the Proxy breathing down his neck it would have been hard to focus on navigating the current mess he found himself in. 

It was a mess indeed, like watching a carefully crafted tower crumble as the top became unsteady, unraveling in a glorious display of dust and ruin. He knew it would be the case before he agreed to meet Kirishima at the Port to look for where his Master hid his research, but he wasn’t expecting to see you there.

Maybe he should have expected it, you had seemed anxious at his curt communication over the past weeks while he gathering what information he could before an inevitable confrontation with his Master’s assistant. Maybe he should have expected whatever ugly connection with Kirishima that was woven into your past to rear its head at some point. 

Your expression was harsh, the edges of a bandage showing around the sides of your neck. There was a vial in your hand, your knuckles white from how tightly you gripped it.

“I did what you asked, now back off.” You hissed between your teeth as you tossed the vial at Kirishima, the man laughing as he caught it with infuriating ease.

He flipped the vial up to the light filtering from the industrial fixtures that shined from the shipping containers, a clear and colorless fluid washing within. Spinal fluid.

“I knew you would come around to my way of thinking. Why don’t you join us for a moment, an extra pair of eyes might be useful.”

Your gaze wavered to the blackened edges of the hollow behind him, taking a half step back as you shook your head. 

“Come on now, don’t tell me you’re—,”

Harumasa’s hand was heavy on his shoulder, Kirishima pausing just to glance back at his guarded expression, eyes flickering back to you for a brief instance as a impish grin tugged at his lips.

“Fine, I guess it can’t be helped.” He fished in his labcoat pocket, producing a folded stack of papers before he tossed them at your feet, the papers soaking instantly as they hit the wet pavement. 

He waved the vial at you tauntingly before he pocketed it. “Thank you again for your service, the children will be so appreciative.”

Your guilt ridden expression was the last thing Harumasa recalled seeing as he stepped through the barrier of the Hollow, the Proxy hot on his trail.

He didn't see you for weeks, his condition too fragile in the wake of the high ether levels he subjected himself to in the hollow. Whether it be Section 6, the proxy, or even the kids from the sanatorium it was hard to find a moment of quiet, though he couldn’t deny that it was a welcome change from his normal solitude. 

Everything had quietly pieced itself together. His master’s ultimate purpose with his research, Kirishima being prosecuted for his crimes, the children being given another chance at having a childhood instead of existing as human experiments. 

It felt…nice for once, the sun comforting on his skin as the sea breeze toyed with the tails of his headband. Everyone had long gone home, leaving him in silence once again. His eyes fluttered shut under the intensity of the setting sun, his lungs filling with salt-laden air as the inside of his eyelids stained a brilliant orange.

Orange.

Like the color of your ridiculous overalls, or of the novelty candy you insisted he try with you. Orange like the canned drinks you were fond of when you decided to treat him and yourself to a greasy snack from the stand back at the parking lot. The color of your nails when you decided to paint them on your day off, proudly waving them in front of his face. The same orange of your swimsuit the day you shucked off your normal wear and dove off the pier into the frigid water. You actually were a strong swimmer when your body wasn’t trying to destroy itself thanks to your shared disease.

Orange like the stripe painted on the side of the shrimp trawler that drifted by in the distance when he reopened his eyes, a hand raising to shield them from the harsh rays of the setting sun. 

“Ahoy there!” You shouted through cupped hands. He couldn’t see your face from where he stood squinting into the light, but he knew you were smiling, framed in a halo of vibrant orange.

"I'm ready to cash in on that meal you owe me!"

Port Elpis was a lonely place.

Was is the real curiosity if you asked him.

Rey 2025

[tinytimbits]

more little! tim hcs!!!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ✧⁠

⭐ tim loves bath time! he likes the closeness and intimacy of it

“cmere you little stinker, its bath time for you”

“yay!”

⭐ he doesn't like video games and opts to play outside or do a puzzles

[scribbling on paper with his pacifier in, obviously regressed]

“whatcha doing timbo?”

“math”

“oh really? let me-”

“...”

“tim this is calculus”

⭐ he loves to play in the mud, its a nice texture to him. one time alfred found tim walking on the carpet completely covered in mud, he almost had a heart attack at the mess

“master timothy i beli- oh my goodness gracious”

[head to toe in mud, waves with a bright smile]

⭐ damian secretly loves playing with baby tim but pretends it's such a problem to do, tim knows he doesn't mind though

"tt, you' re coloring it all wrong. let me help you timothy"

⭐ dick is banned from watching tim alone because he took him up on the chandelier because

"he just looked so cute asking! how could i say no?”

⭐ tim gives bruce insane baby fever when he's regressed

[tim, giggling]

“i need to adopt more children"

[in blüdhaven] “something just happened”

⭐ jason loves to read jane austen to tim, tim makes noises back at him like he's understanding but he has no idea what's going on

"vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us"

"buh uh!”

"yeah, i think that too timbo"

⭐ cass taught tim ASL So he could communicate what he wanted if he got too overwhelmed

“repeat to me in words” [signs “i need help”]

“i need help!”

“yes, very good”

⭐ tim is a menace to bruce but everybody pretends not to believes him

"he's just a baby! how could he have rearranged all your WE files? look at that little guy! he would never!”

[lazarusrisingx]

idk bout yall but im an age regressor due to extreme trauma etc yada yada so imma talk abt the LADS boys rq. i also dont interact with other age regressors or talk abt my age regression very often because im embarrassed of it but its a coping mechanism for me and im stressed as shit right now but cant let myself go to that headspace so anyways!!

my asks are open so if y’all wanna request something or just ask questions you can!

completely SFW post, some slight angst but it turns into fluff so dont worry, mentions of some self loathing with caleb and sylus but thats about it

talking about age regression and what the LADS men would be like as caregivers!

zayne

is def a soft but strict caregiver, the cool calm and collected doctor

he doesnt want his little to get hurt and his time with pediatric patients makes him quite a skilled caregiver. he has quite a few rules and some soft rules for his little, and doesnt want them to have a babysitter because he loves being attentive and caring for his little when they regress.

he has heard of age regression as a coping mechanism for trauma, and did some research on it when he did a psychiatric rotation at the hospital, and after hearing more about the community he had some interest in it but its not something he ever actively sought out.

it fulfills a part of him he didnt know he had, it gives him the space to be less serious, and brings out a more playful side in him. but he has strong protective instincts once he reaches caregiver space, and it shows.

he has a hard time not giving in when his little is upset when he says they cant have more sugar, or need to go to bed, or that they need to take their meds. he doesnt like seeing his little upset no matter what, and his heart melts even though he knows that to much candy would make your stomach hurt, or that without your meds and treatment you would be sicker, he knows how scary it can feel when your like this and you need treatment, and he knows how to help soothe you and get you to trust him.

he doesnt do timeouts, maybe less than five minutes but he has so much expeireince with kids that he is able to apply it when your in littlespace, and get you to follow the rules.

he makes sure to discuss everything with you before you are in little space, learns your favorite shows, what might trigger you, every small detail he needs in order to be a good caregiver is talked about in detail beforehand.

your little space soon becomes something he looks forward to every day. a different way for him to relax, a different way to have fun. its his favorite and he loves it dearly.

Caleb

caleb is an energetic, slightly strict, but matches your chaotic energy type of caregiver.

caleb has known you your whole life. while in your teenage years and a bit into your adulthood you didnt quite understand why you would act the way you did, caleb adapted.

he wanted to adapt.

its only when hes gone do you realize you age regress, and his absence makes it harder to do so, and makes it harder for you to escape the things going on. you didnt feel safe enough, even though your mind would teeter on the age of little space you couldnt bring yourself to fall into it. beforehand you simply labeled it as feeling ‘silly’, never stopping to actually think about what was happening, not thinking about the fact that it happened whenever caleb was around and you got triggered by something. not always an upsetting trigger, sometimes just a kids show or being sureounded by your stuffies was enough to tip you into littlespace, a blissful headspace that felt akin to a warm blanket laying over you. where you let yourself rely more on caleb, where you didnt see the awful shit that was going on. it wasnt ignorance, it was a way to cope and heal.

Caleb didnt need you to tell him what you needed. he can recognize the signs that your regressing before you can, and it makes his heart melt in a littlle puddle of love to see it. even when you were teenagers and he was unknowingly babysitting you, he loved every moment of it. you get so playful, a bit mischevious, playing small childish tricks on him, and yes you became a bit more vulnerable to bad people so he became even more fiercely protective of you.

caleb has soft rules. he isnt very strict unless it comes to your safety. want to eat a bag of candy? of course! stay up all night with him? whatever youd like pip-squeak! he can almost never say no to you, unless he feels like it might endanger you. if he tells you no and you pout and cross your arms his heart will do jumping jacks and he will cave within a few minutes. the only time he puts you in timeout is if your throwing a particularly rough tantrum, or you do something that could hurt you. even then, its usually only a little less candy that day, and possibly going to bed a little earlier because he knows how worn out you must get over such big feelings, despite your protest that your never sleepy.

caleb never evereverevereverever uses the Colonel personality with his little. his eyes are always soft and his voice is sweet and gentle. he compromises a lot, and just how littlespace is freeing for you, its freeing for him.

he doesnt have to rough and cruel. he doesnt have to lead with an iron fist. his violent actions during the day are forgotten during these times. hes able to relax, to be protective, and on the days when his actions weigh heavily on him, when his guilt and self-hatred reaches a boiling point, when the pain of his own memories is dragging down his soul, feeling you hug him in your soft pajamas, your favorite stuffy being pressed against his face as your babbling about your day in that cute voice, its like a switch flips in his brain.

even in little space you help him to. if you notice hes looking a little down you always know how to cheer him up.

within the hour he no longer feels that weight in his chest. hes taking care of you, helping you, holding your hand and showing you how to build a pillow fort, as his own worries are swept away from the cuteness overload and sweet feelings that swell in his heart for his Little. just like zayne, your age regression heals a part of him that he didnt know needed healing aswell

Sylus

sylus is the definition of a spoiling caregiver. so sweet itd give you a tootchache. although nervous at first, he is ecstatic to be so close that youd trust him with this.

my man sylus. the cruel, cold leader of Onychinus, master of the N109 zone…

Cannot tell you no.

stickers on his face? absolutely little one. terribly ‘doing his hair’ before meetings with some of the cruelest men on earth? anything for you sweetie, such a cutie. makeup time? his favorite color is red can you show him which color is red sweet-pea?

Sylus absolutely cannot maintain any rules for his beloved little. outside of what might get you hurt, Sylus is a bit like caleb in the sense he cannot say no. except he doesnt even try to tell you no. caleb will put up a little fight, but Sylus? oh hes just a damn teddy bear.

shopping sprees, meetings with your favorite cartoon character voice actors, signed merch from each of them, unlimited stickers, unlimited hide and seek games, unlimited everything.

and its perfect.

his days at work are spent being ruthless, cruel, his heart guarded like a fortress, all for him to be able to come home and let it all leave as soon as he sees you clutching your favorite stuffy and begging him to read to you.

he enjoys story time the most. youll bring one of the many books he has bought for you, disregard whatever he is doing at the time, make him sit so you can curl up in his arms, put your head on his chest and listen to him read you a story.

but how did the cunning man get into this situation?

You brought it up. after a particularly horrible day, you were neck deep in age regression. kieran and luke had gotten a call from you crying so terribly that they responded without notifying sylus first. the mess they came in on wasnt one that was gorey, but one of you throwing a tantrum because the pillow fort you had tried to make wasnt big enough for you and all your stuffies.

hell they didnt even know you had this many plushies. and it was quite confusing to see you sobbing as if the entire world had gone up in smoke. they were just as panicked as you were, frantically trying to figure out the solution to your problem, you were hardly coherent, and it took a few frantic calls for sylus to already be on his way home, only knowing that you were a mess right now, crying so loudly sylus didnt even bother listening to the twins, cut his meeting off immediatley and sped home.

he didnt know what age regression was.

but he is a very quick study and he would never do something he didnt enjoy doing.

sylus is nervous though. the two of you have a lot of conversations about your regression, and he has a lot of questions. but he is nervous. maybe scared might be the right word.

hes scared that cold person he pretends to be is really him sometimes and hes scared you might be able to see it. that youll look at him youll see a monstrous thing, a wolf in sheeps clothing, because sylus sees himself like that sometimes.

it takes him a while to fully relax. its not because he doesnt enjoy this side of you. Gods no Sylus loves it. its the highlight of his day. seeing you smile so much, seeing you so excited your very atoms shake, the way you come to him for help, you come to him for anything and his heart melts. every little thing he wants to do it for you. open every peice of candy, change your shows around for you, get you more juice, every little thing you want and need of him he craves to do for you. all he wants is to take care of you. on his hardest days his solace is coming home to you. taking you to a park without anyone there so you can play on the swing, snuggling up with you and reading a book, letting you jingle out broken melodies on his instruments, humming a lullaby to you so youll sleep, every second of it fills his heart with a great joy he never knew he would be able to get. but part of him cannot fathom that youd place so much trust in him. that youd let him care and nurture the most vulnerable side of yourself.

but eventually, he relaxes. he becomes less of a quiet caregiver who smiles softly and encourages you. he becomes more active, soon enough the two of you are playing hide and seek around the house. hes chasing after you in a game of tag, hes laughing louder, hes less passive in his caregiving.

its also healing for him. a reminder that he is not what everyone says he is. yes he is ruthless but thats not all he is. he is not a cruel dragon, not a ruthless arms dealer, not a gang lord, none of it, not when he is with you. He is Sylus, his hands and words were not meant to only cause pain, but to heal.

he is open to only two other people babysitting you. luke and kieran become big brothers to you. when sylus is away he puts the two of them in charge when you regress. and yes just like real siblings the three of you get up to quite a bit of bullshit together, but nothing dangerous.

at the end of the day Sylus loves caring for you. it takes him some time to catch his footing, but once he finds it, he flourishes. he loves you so deeply, and it shows in every action.

[akindaflora]

PAST LIVES

Pairing: Non Idol Hyunjin x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, Historical FICTION

Description: Y/N been having intense dreams that feel to real to be just a dream and decides to do a past life regression in hopes to understand more about not only herself. But as she experiences her first life she comes to understand a love that could only be described as a fairy tale.

AN: So while this is a Y/N x Hyunjin story because of the premise I wanted to use different names. However I have done my best to not use the name placement too much to keep the resemblance of a classic Y/N fic.

Henri Du Monde = Hwang Hyunjin! I do plan to make other sessions for the other boys but this took a lot to put together so they'll come as inspiration hits. Also I am in no shape or way a historian so of course this is all works of fiction and any true historical error is made please just act like its not there unless I am disrespecting any aspects of history this mini series may explore. I want this to be enjoyable and light hearted so sorry to my history buff stays!

Warning: Use of nicknames like My love, Princess, Beloved etc. While this is majority Fluff their is a suggestive scene to oral but stops at one lick. I at most would consider this safe for work except that very short scene. Name placements are being used but once again at the end of the day its Hyunjin and Y/N.

WORD COUNT: 5.4 K

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"Okay Y/N, I just need you to sit here and get comfortable as I check your records," said a well-mature man who still had the glints of youth caught in his eyes. You settled in the darkened maroon chair leaning your head back as you looked around the seemingly empty office. The layout of the ceiling caught your eye as it checkered into the wall.

Today was the day you've been waiting for ever since you heard about past life regressions. You had been having these recurring dreams that felt more like memories than actual made-up scenarios. It took a lot of savings but luckily with your promotion at work, the cost is considerably reasonable.

"You've signed up for eight sessions correct?" the practitioner asked looking slightly up from his clipboard, you only nodded worried about what you might see.

"Well from your chart and the emails you expressed, this was your first time, and the dreams you've been having inspired you to do this. Do you have any questions?" he asked patiently his kind smile present easy a bit of your concern.

"Yes and I did some research on the process but I was wondering how will this work?" You asked timidly.

"That's understandable, first we're going to set a mood for you to go under a hypnosis state, I'll ask you to clear your mind and I start some questions like what do you see and hear, and then we can come to understand what you may have experienced." He said calmly.

You nodded, "Has it sometimes not worked?" you asked looking at your hands.

"Sometimes but that is usually due to some clients not being able to relax or actively resisting the process. At that point we'll try to do other alternatives to help you relax," he said you nodded again. Your mind racing around the entire process. A million concerns from what you might see who you might be flashing through your mind.

"Y/N I understand this might be nerve-racking for your first time but do understand that whatever happens has already happen whatever you may see has long past and gone their is no concern it'll come back, your going to be okay and it will only be memories and while some maybe painful they are no longer the current you," the practitioner said. You took a deep breath nodding at his words.

"Okay, I think I'm ready to begin," you said a determined look in your eyes that made the man laugh slightly.

"Okay, I'm going to dim the lights and turn on some atmospheric music," he said doing exactly that. You move to get comfortable putting your hands by your side as you lean back.

"Now I want you to relax your mind," he said his voice coming soft and comforting.

You took deep breaths as you relaxed your mind letting the thoughts take their leave. It was tricky at first but with the practitioners help you were able to do some breathing exercises. The rate of your heart slowed and the what ifs left at your exhale.

"Now close your eyes and I want you to focus your thoughts on the darkness," he said softly and slowly. Your eyes fluttered closed.

Nothing but the darkness of your eyes came, "Now imagine yourself, in a library, tell me when you see it," He said softly.

You started to see the image creep into your mind, the tall book-stands that stood in rows, the tables that were placed around, and the warm light that began to creep in, "I see it" you said.

"Good, now tell me about the library is it crowded," he asked slowly.

With your eyes closed, you looked around, seeing only the books. " The library is empty; I'm the only one there," you said slowly.

"And what color is the rug," he asked.

You looked down at the rug, "it's blue," you said, "describe it to me," he said.

"It's fluffy and tapers off in a square, there is a tan tile floor that sections off the rows of books," you said slowly.

"And what section are you in," you looked around, "I'm in the flower section," you replied. The blurry image of the books became more clear as you described them.

Your hands reached for an old red leather bound book, its title in cursive, "I see a book, it's red with golden cursive, I can feel it in my hands the leather is rough," you said.

"Does it have a smell," he asked.

Slowly you could feel yourself bringing the book to your nose the soft smell of orchids coming to mind.

"It smells like orchids," you said.

--------

Slowly the book turned into an actual flower the voice of your practitioner was turned into the sound of children laughing, the sound of a violin in the distance filled the sound. The sun beating down but you didn't really feel it. You looked around to a young woman dressed in a clean dress that tulip at her ankles. She stood in a slight bend her eyes never meeting yours as she held a pretty pink umbrella over your head blocking the sun.

"Princess do you wish for me to call the gardener to procure a bouquet for your chambers," the woman asked. You heard your voice but it was like your body had a mind of its own, your hands fan slightly at your face.

"That be great Cherie, let us continue our walk," you said the woman only nodded as you turned around. Your eyes surveyed the land. Woman in poofy dresses with their own young woman holding umbrellas followed as they all chatted peacefully. Some nodded in respect as you did the same. Some stopped whatever they did to bow in your presence.

You only nodded back as you carried your head high, you could catch them calling you mademoiselle as you walked. Inside however you were filled with questions. Who were you and were you, it was obvious you were in France, the sounds of French bouncing in your ears, the smell of beautiful flowers, and the buildings that stood tall in romantic architecture.

But your body stopped at the sound of your name being called, "Princess Aurélie-Margaux" a voice raised slightly. That was it your memory coming at the sound of your name.

You were a Princess daughter of Andre-Claude Berguet brother to his royal highness King Auguste the 3rd of France. While you held no true standings for the title but if the king were to pass your Father would be named King and if his offspring did not produce an heir your children would be next in line.

You turned around to a woman in a soft powder blue dress, her hair in an up-do held by ribbons and adorned with gems. She smiled brightly as she and her lady-in-waiting came up to you.

"I've heard an interesting rumor that relates to your name," the name Isabella came to mind. She was from another high noble family. While your title was higher she had become someone your family held close. Her soft arm lapping with yours, you could feel your eyebrows raised at her remark.

"Pray tell Isabelle what noise does my name brings now," you asked. Your name had been going around these days after your coming-of-age ball.

"Well Marquee Du Monde's son has been asking about you," the name sounded familiar and the name brought a flutter to your chest. The son of Du Monde had been someone you knew for a bit of time. Never truly meeting but he had proclaimed himself as a painter his paintings being even revered highly by your Uncle the King.

"What business does the son of Du Monde want with me,"

"Well rumor states he desires to ask your hand in marriage," She said excitement dripping from her words.

"As if my father will allow such a thing, I haven't even met the man," You said.

"We'll see about that Berguet, how about we place a friendly bet,"

"A bet"

"Yes it'll be most fun," she said.

"Hmm and what are we betting on," You asked now interested.

"Well if Du Monde does ask your father for your hand in marriage you will give me that beautiful Violin and if he doesn't I will give you the golden mirror of mine you are so fond of," she said.

Your eyes winded at the thought of the mirror. For ages you had begged your father for such a beautiful mirror like Isabelle's. It was engraved with swans and roses that circled the frame. A beautiful blue gem was placed at the end as white ribbon layered around its helm. A rare find indeed.

"Fine but do polish that mirror when it is time for my win," you said giggling.

"Oh but only if you have your servant boys replace the string for my new violin my dear," she said with a beautiful smile. You both laughed at your chances of winning as you walked through the garden.

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Your memory began to change. You could feel yourself holding a silver cup as you sat next to your mother on your left and your father on hers.

You were at the spring banquet hosted the night spring had truly brought itself out. Your Uncle the King sat in the middle as you watched the partygoers dance to the newest composed song.

Everything was lovely. Your dress was adorned like the orchid you saw white and soft the slip wrapping around your waist in a bow and your hair in ringlets as a golden pearl held half your hair out of your face. You laughed with your family as the King told a story from his hunt.

As the chatter died down an announcer came. He bowed deeply at your family, only arising at the King's voice.

"Your Royal Highness and his family of France, I present the Du Monde family as you asked," He said bowing again as the family walked only a few feet away from the table. Your eyes traveled around the ball as Isabelle's eyes found yours smirking as she talked to some of the other noble families. The bet coming to mind.

Your eyes traveled back to the Du Mondes. They weren't a typically big family but blessed with three boys. The head of the Family stood tall as he introduced his Wife. She was a woman from Italy. Her soft blonde hair was held high to show her marriage status. She wore a matching soft green dress to her husband.

He then introduced his sons, his youngest Jasper (I.N.) had the eyes of a fox and a strong jaw like his father he bowed again at the sound of his name his soft yellow suit catching in the sunlight, the next was Francois (Felix) his blonde hair resembled his mothers and his beauty was as true as the rumors, he smiled bright and bowed at his name.

And last but not least was Henri (Hyunjin). He was not only the oldest but the tallest of the boys. No smile adorned his face but his soft eyes never seemed to leave you. It sent shutters down your spin as he took every moment in, but at the sound of his name, he quickly looked to the King bowing deeply.

"What lovely sons you and your wife have produced Du Monde," said your Uncle.

"Thank you, Your Excellency," he said bowing only slightly at the compliment.

Henri's eyes never left your face even as you looked towards the rest of your family. You could feel them, how they took in the candle lights of your hair too how you crossed your arms, and the way your dress softly fluttered from the night wind. You've felt eyes on you before but not like this not as if those eyes would blink they would miss everything. You did your best to not look at Henri but as your eyes connected with his a blush riddled your face for the intensity they held.

"And it has come to my understanding your son, Henri Du Monde, has produced quite a name for himself, I must thank you for the painting you've done for the Queen and I's newborn. You've captured the gift that god has given well," The king said with a voice of eloquence. Henri bowed deeply.

"It was only my honor, Your Excellency," His voice said deeply.

"I must reward you for your hard work, ask me of anything and I shall grant it to the best of this empire's abilities," the King said leaning forward.

"Thank you, Your Excellency, while I have done this as only an act of kindness to the Royal family in return for the kindness you have blessed onto France. I am only a noble servant who wishes for nothing," He said beautifully.

"Come now son you speak beautiful words but it is not every day a King offers a favor, even a servant of France like yourself must have a wish, unless you do not think, I, your King can't grant," the King now poking for a demand. If there was one thing you knew your Uncle wasn't one to owe favors. He'd rather give you something in return immediately so as not to be held over. All dues were to be paid and it was a phrase everyone in your family and this empire knew. Henri Du Monde would not only be a fool to not ask anything but would embarrass the Royal family if he were to ask of nothing.

"There is nothing Your excellency can't do but do pardon my bold ask," He said still bowing. A simple out with it your Uncle growing slightly impatient at this necessary politeness.

"It is more a favor to your brother the Duke Andre-Claude Berguet, I wish to ask for the marriage of his eldest daughter Princess Aurélie-Margaux," he said with confidence. You and your mother gasped at your name. You looked to your father who only looked at Henri with a slight raise of brow. Your uncle now laughing slightly.

"You are bold Petite Du Monde, I'll give you that, well brother what says you," He said now looking at your father. His eyes quickly looked at you and your mother, he held a slight apologetic look, a look that told you he could not refused. The Berguet always pays its dues.

"Henri Du Monde stand tall," Henri stood tall immediately at your father's words. As bold as his words Henri's eyes held only with a bit of nervousness as he looked at your faces then quickly back to your Father.

You didn't know what to make of such a man, how could he ask for something so bold to look at you like that and yet quiver under your Father's gaze.

"Why ask for the pearl of France and not an estate of your own," My father asked.

"If I may, in the youth of my journey to being an artiste, I would often walk the royal gardens for inspiration, and one day with my head above the clouds thinking of my next painting I heard the most beautiful laugh, its soft remnants I can only compare to heaven brought me back to earth. My eyes landed on the most beautiful flower of the garden. Princess Aurélie-Margaux sat beautifully in a gazebo with some of the other ladies. Ever since then, I've painted her, sketched her to recapture her beauty, and remained short of the true version that lies before us all," He said softly. His eyes never left you as he tried to capture the way you blushed at his words. A slight oh my leaving your mother's lips.

Your Father coughed, "Is beauty all you seek from Aurélie-Margaux if so then you may paint her, you've yet to tell me why I should bless you with my own treasures," He said sternly. The King looking back at this exchange with excitement.

"One painting isn't enough sir, one season isn't enough. She haunts my dreams, she is what I hope to see when I walk the gardens. Her beauty is true but I have seen the wonders of her mind from afar. From her debut ball when she played the violin, the tune fondly hums from my mouth as I paint. I have yet to be blessed to hear her poems in true but I read them fondly when I am in between my works. I find inspiration from her simplest of sonnets. If marriage is not available then please allow me to work my way to this blessing of a lifetime. Allow me to woe the Pearl of France," He said bowing again.

His brothers looking at the oldest in amazement. All the eyes of the ball room now lay on your father as he looked at Henri.

"Well brother do not let the meringue melt under your gaze, won't you give the boy a chance, I am curious of his devotion to the Pearl of France," Your uncle said now winking at your shocked face. You quickly composed your self to not seem so whipped by the proclamation of the Du Monde boy.

"Fine you may court my Daughter but it is of her word that I shall give her to you," Your father said stiffly as he took a sip of his wind.

Henri looked up with shock before composing himself, taking another bow, "That you Duke Berguet, I will not let you down Princess, Your Majesty thank you for this blessing," Henri said now bowing to you.

"Well why not a dance at this new bridge they meet at," The king said clapping to start the music up again.

"Princess go Dance with Henri Du Monde and see if he is fit to your eyes," The king said. You got up bowing slightly at his words and taking Henri Du Monde's hand as he led you down the stairs to the ballroom.

-

"So I haunt your dreams and wake, never has a man proclaimed much for any woman," You said softly as your hand softly held into his and the other rested on his shoulder. His eyes boring into your feature still taking you in.

"No woman has ever met the meaning of those words as you do," He said turning you as the other did his hand burning at the touch of your body.

"And what happens when the Pearl of France grows old will you still desire me," You asked wondering if all this man ever desired was the look of you.

"Do you not still drink wine when it is old," He asked. His question taking you of guard, "Are you comparing me to squashed grapes," You laughed quietly.

"No," he simply said as you both turned, "A beauty and wit as yours only ages with grace, I refused to believe anything even you could lose its charm even after a century, even if the world turns to dust," He now looked away as if embarrassed by his own confession. You looked away too blushing at the poetry of this unknown figure. Isabelle caught your eye as she mimicked playing a violin signifying her win.

"Well Du Monde, I hope you are more than pretty colors and sweet words I lost a violin because of you," you said looking back to his piercing gaze. His brow raised.

"How so," he asked simply as your feet carried around the tune. Well, at least he danced well the thought coming to mind.

"Someone told me you might confess tonight, I told them you wouldn't. A bets a bet and Berguet always pays their dues," you said. He laughed as he twirled you around.

"Well lets make a bet if you fall in love with me, I'll make you the most beautiful violin to ever exist," He said with an air of confidence.

"You work with wood too," You asked not knowing most artiste to experiment outside of their perspective focus.

"No but for you I'd learn," He said simply.

"And if I don't fall in love what will you get,"

"Well I don't think that's possible, you let me paint you," You replied a simple scoff of a fine. And while you didn't really see this as a loss or a win. Dancing with Henri Du Monde felt like dancing in the clouds. And the conversation would flow so naturally.

You even noticed more things about him from the way he couldn't hide his emotions well unless in front of the King or your father to the freckles that sat beneath his eyes.

Henri was beautiful and he held you with a sense that you were the most precious thing in the world. And you missed that Violin even less. And the thought of what Violin he could make seemed more possible.

------

Days had gone by since the ball and every evening spent with Henri was beautiful. Henri would often come by your home to hear you play or to tell stories of the paintings he had done for others of the courts. He told you of his family's home in Italy stories of his brothers and his youth and in return, you'd tell him stories of your own.

Sometimes you both would sit and do your own thing, He would sketch or paint as you wrote poetry about him. You had become quite the romantic pair in France. From Nobles to peasants would sit by their parties wishing for a love you both shared. Ladies would fan themselves as they watched you two dance wondering if they too would seek a devoted lover.

------

After months of courting, You both were sitting for a light picnic. It had been like any other day but for some reason, the fall cool air felt lighter, the sun was high but it warmed the shadows with ease, the birds only singed the softest tune and you both had this glimmer of what outsiders can only assume as wistful love.

"Princess, I have a question," Henri said as he watch you reach for a small pastry. A slight hum at your title he fondly called brought your eyes up to him.

"Do you love me," He simply ask, fear and nerves filled his eyes as he took in your shock expression. You set the dessert down and looked at the field. For weeks you had been pondering if you did or if you simply wanted the violin he'd make. Everyday spent with Henri was filled with love. Every breath of air grew the bubble you both created.

So you looked at him really looked at him, the way he sat leaning into you even more. His long hair is tied to the back by a ribbon. The way his eyes shone when they looked at you, to his hand never too far to grab at your own. Even if you thought about finding anything you didn't like about him, you couldn't.

"Henri, I do, I love you," You said quietly, looking down at your lap. You could hear shuffling and feel the warmth of his fingertips as he brought your head up to his. The fluttered of your eyes as he leaned close. Letting his soft lips touch at the edge of yours. You leaned in more as his lips grasped at yours. You assumed this is what spring felt like when a flower bloomed. How its overlapping petals would softly fall off the other and take shape as his lips and yours took contact.

The world stopped but as soon as it did the sounds of life began again, as he pulled back you whined at the loss of contact as your eyes fluttered open.

"Why'd you stop my love," You said softly but his smile only grew wider.

His hand still holding onto your chin. His face wasn't too far and you could still feel the breath of his lips on your face.

"Say it again," He asked with desperation.

"My love," you said a smile of your own displayed. He pecked at your lips quickly.

"Again," he asked.

"My love," his peck followed as you giggled.

"Again," he whispered.

-------

Your wedding was beautiful, your mother cried slightly and even your father let his own tears fall. The King had gifted you both your own Estate not that far as a gift for the love your relationship had shown France. Paris celebrated for 14 days and nights. Your love was considered the nations treasure.

On your wedding night as you both were wrapped in each other arms, "My wife," You hummed a smile on your face as you drew patterns on his chest.

"I know I won the bet and you have your violin but can I still paint you," He asked timidly. Your laughed filled the bedroom as you picked your head up and quickly pecked his cheek.

"As If I could deny my dearest Husband from his calling, My love paints me always and I will dedicate my poems to the love we've created to my love for you," You said now pecking his lips.

He shrieked with joy flipping you on your back as you giggled. His lips kiss every surface of your face.

"Say it again," He asked.

"My Love," you responded with a smirk. He frowned.

"Non the other thing,"

"My Husband," a deepening peck was brought to your lips. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he held your waist. He pulled back.

"Again,"

"My beautiful, kind and loving Husband if you do not bed me I will never say it again," You said with a look of determination. Knowing if you didn't he would replay this moment over and over again.

"Oh My wife, I will, don't you dare fret but you will say it again, call it out so loud that the servant will know my title to you," He said this time as he kissed your neck, at your ears at the peaks of your breast his hands sliding further. You moaned slightly.

"Say it again," He asked as his lips traveled down your stomach.

"My husband," You gasped out as he made home between your legs.

"Again," this time kissing at your inner thighs.

"My husband," you moaned out your hips bucking slightly. He wrapped his arms around your thighs securing them to be open.

"Again," he said his breath hitting where you craved him most.

"My husband," you said softly his eyes meeting yours as he licked you softly a deep moan leaving your mouth.

"Bellissimo," left his lips as he made home in between your legs.

That night you moaned his title so loud that most of the servants couldn't look you in the eye for a week and he only smirked at you during meals when ever a servant would blush at you calling him your husband.

That same month the people of your estate waited with battered breath at the arrival of your firstborn.

------

Many years had pass and you were pregnant with your third child. Henri was always worried around your pregnancy, he'd make sure not even a single feather was lifted by you nor brow was raised in annoyance. Your were still the prize he spoke of the night you both had met.

"My delicate Orchid, you will let me know if you have any discomfort," He said softly fluffing the pillows that cluttered around you. He knew how much you loved the sitting room and had it arranged and filled with soft cushions and your favorite flowers adorned with portraits of you and your children.

"My Love," you called lovingly touching his hand, "You've done more than enough sit with me," you said pulling him next to you. He sat with a slight distance. You laughed at his carefulness. Even after two children he was still afraid to harm you when pregnant.

"My beloved you could never hurt me or our children please will you close the distance, I fear my heart hurts when you are even the smallest inch away." you said dramatically. His eyes winded as he quickly moved in closer his arms surrounding you in a hug as he softly kissed at your shoulder.

"Forgive me Mon Cherie how is this," he said looking into your eyes. Your eyes traveled his face, the wrinkles from taking care of the estate and the smiles shared at the growth of your family grew.

His face was riddled with a time of happiness as was yours.

"Better," is all you said as you kissed his check and laid your head softly on his shoulder. His head laying on top of yours gentle.

-------

Your eyes fluttered to the dimmed-lit room as a tear fell from your face.

"So you were a princess, I knew I could sense an air of elegance from you," said the practitioner. He handed a tissue to help you whip your eyes. You thanked him quietly. Mind riddle with your previous life and of Henri who loved filled your lonely heart.

"How do you feel after this first session, It could be a lot so I recommend journaling and taking it slow for the rest of the day," he said writing down how your session went.

"It was peaceful. I've never experienced such beauty in life like that before," You answered honestly.

He laughed slightly, "Who knows maybe this Henri character is out their still looking for his Pearl of France," the practitioner said with hope twinkled in his eyes.

You talked more about when your next session would be and gathered your things as you left the building.

The sunlight blinding your eyes as you walked around the streets your mind filled with thoughts of Henri Du Monde.

Somehow you ended up in a museum for French art and History.

You walked wondering if you might see glimpses of your past in the present. Your feet carried you to a violin cased in glass.

It was white and etched with gold foil of orchids. The carvings reminded you of the flower garden in your vision.

"That Violin was a gift from Henri Du Monde to his Lover Princess Aurélie-Margaux, She was known as the Pearl of France," A voice said quietly next to you. You jumped at the sound looking to your right to a man who stood tall over you.

He dressed with an elegance that reminded you of Henri. Now even looking at him he kinda of looked like Henri too. The only difference was his head was freshly shaven and dyed blonde making his eyes and face structure stand out.

"Really," is all you said lost for words at the possibilities. His eyes scanned your face taking in every feature just like when you met Henri.

"During that time their love was cherished by France, apparently everyone knew of their story and this Violin is considered their promise. Apparently this is the only piece of woodwork, Henri ever made," He said looking back at the violin.

"You must be a fan of his work," You said looking back at the violin as well.

"Yeah, I find myself coming back to this museum often," He said with an air of lightness.

You both silently looked at Henri's work. From the paintings of his wife to the five children they would have. To the letters of poems, the Princess would write.

It was all strange how familiar and yet new it was looking at the things that were apparently apart of the life you lived. But was stranger was the unknown man who'd walked with you telling stories of each piece of the exhibit.

You both stopped at a painting of Henri and the Princess, both old riddled with life but their eyes looked towards the other as if they couldn't even let sight be away from the other.

"You know this might sound weird but you kinda of look like the Princess," He said quietly.

"This might sound stranger but you look like Henri," you said as your eyes found his. The same lightness from your dream filled the air.

"I'm Hyunjin," he said quietly with his own light smile.

"Y/N," you said back as you both shook each other hand. Your hands never quite break at the touch. Only pulling away slightly.

"Do you wanna get coffee?" he asked with hope in his eyes. "I'll pay," he said quickly afraid you may say no.

"Only if you tell me more about the Du Monde couple," You said with a smile of your own.

----------

AFTER WRITING NOTES: AHHHH I have left my hermit no posting cave to bring you all an Idea that been brewing for a fun one shot series. But I won't lie I kind of really fell for this romantic pairing. And surprise the first one not Bang Chan lol. Lately Hyunjin been a bias wrecker for me but anyway I hope you enjoyed and this wasn't to much of a gray spot on being Y/N Reader. Hope to write for this one shot again soon. And like I said I'll update this when inspiration hits their is no set schedule but do let me know what you all think.

YAYA

[cookiethebirddoll]

idk i just think hetero relationships in shows just dont add anything. i mean its cool they get representation i guess but i didnt really sign up to see it and it definitely didnt add anything to the plot. honestly, its kinda regressive if you think about it

refrog if you agree

[sleepystarryskies]

haiii!!!! idk if this would beee too much but if its okay with you could i have some baby jackie n cg nat headcanons?? plsplspls thank uuu

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Cg!Nat + Regressor!Jackie headcanons

{ notes- these took so long i’m sorry, am working my way through the older asks now before i let myself do new ones ! includes mentions of food insecurity. }

🖍️ . . . Regressed Jackie adores Nat so so much, she thinks Nat’s so cool and is always in awe of how she isn’t afraid or ashamed of who she is.

🧸 . . . Nat likes caring for Jackie, it’s definitely different than caring for the other girls because most of them are more rambunctious and aren’t as clingy to her as Jax tends to be.

🛹 . . . An obvious sign of Jackie regressing is when Nat becomes ‘Natty’, and Jackie likes to be called ‘Jax’ or

🍼 . . . Nat used to have to repair her own clothes growing up- and then she started to enjoy it because she could personalise her own clothes, but if one of Jackie’s stuffies gets a tear nat has no problem with repairing it !!

🖍️ . . . Nat tends to stay up quite late, she enjoys having some time where she chooses what to do- after work or school, she likes when everything’s quiet. She’ll often let Jackie stay up with her if she wants too, though not too late as Jackie gets cranky if she doesn’t get enough sleep.

🧸 . . . 99% of the time they end up napping together, Jackie will need coaxing to nap and will only give in if Nat naps with her !!

🛹 . . . If Jax’s wakes up first, then Nat wakes up with a make up brush to the face, or half painted nails !

🍼 . . . Nat struggles a bit Jax’s fussiness with food- not because its a burden for her and she’ll always try her best to account for it and it reminds her of how she didn’t get that choice so feels guilty when Jackie gets upset.

🖍️ . . . Nat makes lots of mixtapes depending on what age range Jackie’s in, will decorate them for her and keeps them in a special box for her.

🧸 . . . Am a firm believer that Nat sets up the best tea parties, will have cookies (shop bought cos she cannot bake), gets all of Jackie’s stuffies and will give warm tea (or juice) in her teapot !

[mechs-headcanons]

I keep thinking about system Toy Soldier too so here's some more stuff on it

"Names Are Foolish And A Human Thing" - the host Toy Soldier explaining why it insists on the others being referred to by ranks instead of names (there are ones with names that it doesn't know about)

It doesn't want people finding out about it being a system after it realizes because it fears that people will take that as "Oh, it is Real" and It Is Not Real. Unfortunately the alter that just got triggered to front does not know of these plans or worries.

It has certain routines it sticks to when it's dissociating or regressed. One of the most common signs that it's not in the right headspace is that it starts pacing and patrolling. The tablet I mentioned from before? Keeps her with it when it patrols, keeps her on to the app that was used for patrol notes in some long-gone war so that it can keep all of its patrol records handy in one place. Scrolls through the records sometimes, when it's bored. It might not be fully registering everything in the moment, but it's keeping notes properly, and it's the most reliable source of information to look to when the crew can't find a member.

Sometimes, when another alter takes front unwillingly, they get convinced they're still with the widow and that she just decided to move planets. Cue it being even more stiff than usual, shutting down all thought of its own wants and needs and focusing on keeping the crew happy: The Widow Will Wake Soon, What Would She Think Of Me Being Selfish The Day She's sleeping late?

Nobody could tell what was going on for the longest time when it did this, because it refused to talk about its past until a memory holder broke down

Memory gaps go CRAZY when you're immortal

incoherent anon

oughhh,,,, yes,,,, system ts,,,, agh,,,,

[sleepynegress]

Okay, so while I am waiting on my lunch, having let this marinate some... Art often trends (even w/o intention) toward a reflection of the current state of society in some way. Like the cycles of zombie and vampire popularity being statements on capitalism (Dawn of the Dead), sexually transmitted disease (i.e. AIDS in the 80s cycle) For what may be the first time...we're seeing what I think is a new reflection of the state of society w/ hatred and harm of Black women in visible spaces, post ignoring Black women, deep in a kind of circular hopeful gaslit delusion of society being able to fight its way out of a conservative majority hellbent on regression, and doing that as we live with the consequences of not being listened to:

So, in our art entertainment, we see Sage existing to consume knowledge she will never be able to fully use, because of the vessel it exists in and the world's perception of that. We watch her smile of inevitability as she repeats Homelander's "...like Caesar" and then move her pieces & regularly self-lobotomize... We see Claudia, a Black girl burnt to death twice made/raised to be the purest reflection of Vampire while never truly chosen, until the end. As her little girl body stands defiant on tendon-less bone, remembering faces and (strained smile) singing the song written to mock her as she's flash-burned to cinder. We see a Black woman leading with love raising her daughters with faith and tradition with respect and harmony with the greatest power in the universe, - and not the path of control and imposed ubiquity of patriarchal Christianity...I mean the Jedi path... We see her know a bad path, but love enough to allow choice, until she has none (I think she could be under the mask and wielding the red lightsaber BTW)... It's just...These are white writers and they know. It's smacks of proof of conscious denial. Black women especially, do not gaslight themselves about what we are or see, like whiteness does. We can't delude ourselves like that. ...Like genuinely can not. But we shoulder the wisdom, repeating it over and over...and head in hands, watch everyone else play-act surprised Pikachu as it all rolls down on them, and then us, at its heaviest... These three characters all uniquely reflect aspects of that current social place we are in, now. For the first time, in Black femme bodies (and not even ambiguous Blackness to make the sympathy easier in the gaze) in vulnerably centered situations in mainstream media spaces. The "I told ya so!" signs on all three are LOUD AF. The lady coming out of the well is a Black woman, now.

[naturesapphic]

hii... i'm not sure if you do anon emojis, but if so... can i be 🐇 anon? And uh- i have a fic request- which i think could be really cute and sweet. could you write for little!gn!reader x caretaker!lizzie olsen? but here is the thing- reader is a huge fan of the olsen twins (mary kate and ashley) and always rewatches their movies when regressed, and maybe one day lizzie surprises reader with a chance to meet them? extra fluffy and cutesy pls? thank youuuuu <3 love your fics signed: 🐇

Olsen Twins Meetup

Caregiver!Elizabeth Olsen x little!Gn!reader

Warnings: fluff and cuteness

You were in the living room watching a Mary-Kate and Ashley movie when your mommy, Elizabeth Olsen, comes in with a big, bright smile on her face. “Guess what Angel! I have the best news for you.” She said happily and you looked up at her with a confused but happy smile on your face. She kneels down in front of you and paused your movie which made you pout.

“Guess who you’ll be seeing next week…” she said and you tilted your head, even more confused. “My sisters Mary Kate and Ashley!” She said and your mouth dropped opened in shock. “No ways!” You squealed as you got up from the floor and started dancing around the living room happily. “Yes way! We are gonna meet them at their house and have a fun play date with them.” Your mommy said and you nodded happily but it went away when you thought about it some more.

“D-do Dey k-knows abouts mes bein wittles?” You asked your mommy quietly as she kneeled down in front of you once again and held your face in her soft hands. “Yes babygirl they know and they don’t mind at all. They think it’s adorable and they can’t wait to meet their biggest fan!” She said happily and a smile appears on your face once more. You couldn’t wait to see them.

~ next week ~

It was the next week and you were in the car with your mommy, she’s taking you to see your favorite people in the world, (of course your mommy was first one on your list). “Mommy ares wes dere’s yets?” You said impatiently as you were fidgeting in your car seat. “Yes pumpkin we are, see look! There’s the gate we go through at.” Your mommy said excitedly as she pushed a button near the gate and the gate opens. She drives through and you look around, seeing a big house in view with a pretty water fountain in front. “Is dis its mommy?” You questioned as your eyes were big with wonder.

“Yes baby, this is it. Oh look! There they are at the front porch!” She said happily as she parks the car and gets out and heads over to your side to help you out of your car seat. You got out of your car seat and immediately took your mommy’s hand and ran up to go see them. “Slow down pumpkin! They aren’t going anywhere!” She giggled as you slowed down a bit but still hurriedly went up the steps. You were in front of them and you couldn’t believe that they were here, in the flesh. “Hello y/n! We heard so much about you and we heard that you are our number one fan!” Both of them said and you squealed happily and nodded your head fast. “Wes wes wes!” You said as they both kneeled down to be at your level.

“Is it okay if we give you a hug?” Ashley asked and your eyes filled with tears as you nodded your head. You rushed into their arms and a few tears rolled down your face, making them coo at you. The hug lasted for a few minutes until your mommy told everyone to get inside since it was a bit chilly outside. The twins chuckled at their younger sister as they took your hand in theirs and led you inside their house. For hours you played with them, talked, and learned so many things. One of your favorite parts was when they showed you that they bought a huge bouncy house for the four of you and all of you played it in and it was the most fun you’ve had in a while! When it was time to head home you were severely bummed out but they reassured you that you could come over next weekend which you gladly accepted. You couldn’t wait for the next play date.

A/n: sorry I kinda rushed the ending but I hope you enjoyed it 🐇 anon! I hope everyone else enjoyed it too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all! :) more stores to come of my other characters/celebrities

[auzlon]

Status update

In the last few days I've had no sleep. lets go over the key points - in order.

SIGNED AN NDA

Kicked out of bar

made out with a guy

Yelled on the street at 2am at a guy

got sent $200 for texting an older guy

managed have no sex.

Some how I feel both progressed and regressed. I was reminded of my nature that he so sot to remove with ultimatly no avail. I think I said it once 'you can take the girl out of the city, but you can't take the city of the girl'.

In a younger version I would text a random guy and do the thing. Have an orgasm (If i was lucky) then repeat. This time with a little maturity. AND FINALY fucken self value. I won't throw myself at just anyone because I'm horny. I've given it up too much for too little and only lost friends in the process. I don't know what I was trying to find validation or thrill.

But I don't want love, Either. I'll reserve my love for two individuals.

Him, the imaginary one he exist only the boundlessness of my mind and creation. He - this person, can more then he, she, they? this person is me. They inhibit all of me, my fictious perfection exist in them.

And --him, the soul mate. The only one person who I've met physically who is more me than I am myself. I love him, in a away that is, complicated. because its survived through time and lovers- its been my beacon in the time when the love of my life is not enough. And somehow its my beacon now. He's mine. even with her. He's mine, but not like he is to her. Our love, exist only in the thought, nothing we can touch or see. It belongs only to a space we've agreed never to talk about because he is with her. My family makes comments about him, he's hung in the air of each failed relationship.

I enter the new year with a new version of me, she smokes cigarettes, drinks sparkling water to suppresses the alcohol craving, bought a new wardrobe, takes her son to the library, and I got bangs.

self reflections and revelations.

25 years old - 2025

tell me about You ??? have you changed this year

[beevean]

Who do you think is more off? Sonic boom or the movies? I Will say the movies since Sonic boom gave us a sign of something in frontiers (the ancients)

Sonic Boom is its own thing that is Sonic in all but name. Like, straight up, it is very aware to be a very divorced take on the characters.

I find it hilarious and I was never bothered by how different it was because I appreciated that it was honest about it :P

Funnily enough, all these recent adaptations - Boom, Prime and now the third movie, we can also briefly include IDW #58 - had the same idea that Sonic needed a flaw to overcome, which is that he needs to learn the Superpower of Teamwork™, when in the games, he is the one preaching about it. And of all things, Boom is the one that is the most tolerable about it, because 1) Rise of Lyric was so rushed that it simply forgot about this detail lmao, and 2) in the show, Sonic is mostly grumpier, at worst complaining about the ungrateful villagers, but the show never beat our heads over the fact that Sonic should appreciate his friends more. He has a pretty good chemistry with Tails and Knuckles!

Prime writing Sonic as an incompetent buffoon that everyone facepalms to because he cares more about his fun than respecting them irritates me, because then it has no right to consider itself canon. The third movie having Sonic deadass insult his friends because they are standing in the way of his murder quest baffles me because movie Sonic has never acted like this (I remember in the second movie Tails getting hurt to the point of unconsciousness and Sonic blaming himself for it, not deciding he wanted Knuckles and Eggman dead that instant), and the first two movies set out what I thought to be a clear arc of development that this one shattered! Because movie Sonic regressed for the sake of an obvious moral lesson! That he should have already learned!

This is only slightly below Sonic guilt tripping Shadow by shoving his trauma in his face for the sake of a gotcha in my scale of "whomst the fuck are you and why are you wearing my boy's face".

So call me biased, but I'll always take Boom Sonic. I can imagine situations where Sonic is grumpier and snarkier, hell maybe an older version of him. And I was ready to accept Movie Sonic as a theoretical younger version of him, an interesting origin story. Now? No. This was awful. Now this is yet another "Sonic in all but name", and not even as funny as Boom Sonic for me.

[babydolls-writing-space]

˚₊‧ა [𝑨𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑨𝒍𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒕: 𝑯𝒖𝒔𝒌  ] ໒ ‧₊˚ 

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

A = Affection (Are they an affectionate caregiver?) 

- He is a semi affectionate caregiver, dont get me wrong he loves his holding his baby but he also loves his personal space 

B = Behave (Are they strict? What kind of warnings do they give before punishment is needed?) 

- I  wouldnt say strict but he defiantly has his rules. He gives the “quit it” looks and he will verbally tell you to stop if he needs to 

C = Clothing (How do they dress their little?) 

- He mostly dresses up his little one in comfy clothes such as hoodies and comfortable pants but he tries to dress u the way you like when he figures out your style 

D = Defense (Are they protective caregivers? Maybe overprotective even?) 

- He is protective but only when he needs to be. Such as around certin people or places 

E = Express (How do they express their love?  What's their love language?) 

- He expresses his love by acts of service and words of affrimation  

F = First (How was their first experience as the little's caregiver?) 

- It was sweet, his little one started regressing in the lobby so he turned on cartoons on and asked them questions about there show since they love it and then later the little fell asleep with their head on husk shoulder 

G = Guide (Would they be a good teacher to their little? What would they teach them?) 

- Yes he is! He would teach his little on how to stand up for themselves and that its ok to make mistakes as long as we fix or learn from them  

H = Health (How do they make sure their little is healthy?) 

- He makes good lunches, helps brush there teeth, gets them water to drink, etc  

I = Intuitive (Can the caregiver feel when their little is regressing?) 

- Yea he is pretty good at knowing when his little one is regressed. He starts noting the little signs in his head so he knows when to go into his caregiver headspace  

J = Jealous (Are they the jealous caregiver type?) 

- Nah i dont think he is really that jealous but i do think he can get clingy at times  

K= Kiss (Are they used to kiss their little? Where?) 

- Forehead kissessssss 

L = Listen (Do they enjoy listening to their little?) 

- He doses love listening to his little one, he adores it when his little ones tells them about there fave things such as cartoons or movies they love.  

M = Moment (What's one of their favorite moments being a caregiver?)

- Nap time because he loves laying down and cuddling with his baby  

N = Nurse (Could and would they nurse their little one? Or would they rather bottle feed them?) 

- He would rather bottle feed them, he likes holding them it makes him feel happy in knowing his little one is safe.  

P = Pet Name (What pet name do they call their little? What pet name their little calls them?) 

- Kiddo, bug, sweetheart, and darlin 

Q = Quirk (Talk about a funny caregiver-quirk of them) 

- When he takes a nap with his little and gets warm, he starts to purr 

R = Rough (How do they punish their little? Is it rough or gentle?) 

- He is gently for sure, however sometimes he will accidently yell. But he will talk to his little first and make them eat more veggies and early bedtime for his little  

S = Seasons (What are their favorite season to play with their little and why?) 

- He loves the winter and fall because he loves to stay in with his little one and do crafts with them  

T = Toys (Are they used to spoil their little with toys? Or they'd rather play with their little most of the time without toys?) 

- A good mixture of both, he loves playing pretend however he will also set up a reward chart for you so that when you be good for a certin amount of time you can get rewards such as new toys

U = Useful (Is there anything they learned before becoming a caregiver that is *really* useful while caring for their little?) 

- Uhh- he knows more simple games such as go fish and peak a boo ( he thinks its cute when the two of you play peak a boo) 

V = Vulnerable (Would they show vulnerability around their little?) 

- Somewhat? He mostly tries to act strong around you espically when you are regressed  

W = Weep (What is their reaction when their little starts crying?) 

- His ears go back a little with a small amount of worry. He will pick you up and try to rock you asking you whats wrong as he rubs your back 

X = Xtra (Write the headcanon of your choice) 

- ( i headcannon that angel is a flip/big brother) so one day you and angel had a play date while husk watched you to from the counter. You ended up getting sad cause you felt icky but big brother angel was there to save the day! Husk was happy and relived to find angel comforting you, he adores moments like those  

Y = Yummy (Do they know how to cook? Do they enjoy cooking for their little?) 

- Yes, he loves and he actually knows how to cook, he will try and find fun ways to get you to eat your veggies as well! 

Z = Zzz (What about naptime and bedtime?) 

- He loves bedtime especially in the winter with soft led lights (if you want them) when its cold because he can hold you close with blankets and soft lullabies while the two of you sleep.  

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

hey! I’m so sorry request have been so slow as well as my writing, I just haven’t been able to regress lately which makes it hard to write sometimes, but I’m trying to get back into it!

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

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