#ITS DOING IT TO FICS TOO AUGH | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marauder-misprint · 2 months ago

Note

hello hello tis me again, the regulus fanatic. im not aware if you saw my message yet but i ADORED your regulus fic and so i’ve prepared another if you’d like

get this, regulus x (once again, im obsessed) whimsy slytherin reader where she’s touchy and affectionate towards everyone especially close friends and one day regulus finally works up the nerve to ask her iut and shes just like ‘sure😃’ thinkings its just a normal day and reggies just acting weird

cut to like a week later when regulus leans in for a kiss and readers all like ‘WHOA😲’ cue awkward conversation about how they’ve been dating fir a week then readers rushes to tell everyone because she’s been pining for him for YEARS

sorry if thats a lot and have a wonderful wonderful morning evening and night!

Hello again! I had so much fun writing this! ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎Still getting used to whimsy!reader so I hope it's okay that reader is highkey a yapper. They are both pining in this and just, augh! Fluff.

My turn to yap: I had a similar situation to this when I was younger. Fully convinced I was dating this guy for a few weeks before finding out that he had a girlfriend and he thought we were just "hanging out" despite going to very date-like places.

This story is nothing like my experience - Thank you for this very cute request ❤︎

Mr. 'Allergic to touching'

Regulus Black x Whimsical!reader

4k words

cw: fluff, pining,

Personal space isn’t a concept you’re familiar with. Well, it is but you like being in everyone’s, especially those you are close friends with. You’ll lean over the backs of chairs and couches as your friends sit in them, often reading or occasionally doing homework. You are always holding hands with your friends as you walk to class together. When you are relaxing somewhere, you are either draped over someone’s lap or pulling them into yours. That is just the edge of it too. You greet everyone with a hug, even if you are meeting them for the first time. It is just how you are. And you are blissfully unaware of how it bugs some people.

Regulus, however, isn’t one of those people. Everyone expects him to be with his cold demeanor, how he snaps at first years for being too loud, and the fact that he doesn’t tolerate that amount of touching from anyone else. There is something about your touch that makes Regulus feel warm and content. That’s why he doesn’t mind it, but he won’t tell anyone that. Barty and Evan would call him ‘soft’ if they heard that. It would be even worse if they knew how Regulus fully feels about you; they know that he’s friends with you and tolerates your touches, but that’s all they know.

Still, the idea of having your gentle touches and words of affection to himself makes Regulus smile. It’s a vice, he tells himself. He’s supposed to keep a plain expression, to be indifferent toward frivolities of his peers and their petty drama. You have a knack for breaking his resolve, especially when it’s lap you’ve laid down in or his chair you’re leaning over to see what page he’s on in his book.

“Oi, Regulus, you coming?” Barty calls from across the common room.

“Yes,” he replies dryly from where he is sitting near the fireplace.

Your friends are going to the library in an attempt to study and actually get something done. A group of third years playing exploding snap in the common room wasn’t allowing any of them to focus. Dorcas had been the one to angrily slam her hands into her book and swear at the younger students, and then you suggested the library. At least Dorcas would be able to study there. Regulus assumes that he’ll end up sitting across from you, or next to you, and he won’t be able to focus.

Regulus follows behind the group. You’re in the middle holding hands with Pandora. You have a floral print tote bag slung over your shoulder that likely has Pandora’s things in it as well. Maybe he’d be the one holding your hand and carrying the bag one day… And now he’s smiling.

“Excited to write that essay for Slughorn or something?” Barty asks, falling into step with Regulus.

The smile disappears as quickly as it appeared. “Because essence of dittany uses is such an interesting topic,” he says sarcastically.

“You’re the one who was smiling, mate. Something made you crack.”

“Remembered something funny. Merlin forbid…” Regulus gives Barty a sideways glance, hoping that his answer would satiate him.

Barty just flexes his eyebrows and adjusts his stride to match Evan’s. Regulus doesn’t mind that the rest of the walk is silent for him. The rest of his friends, including you, take part in livelier conversations, but Regulus is content just listening in.

Just as he predicted, you sit down next to Regulus in the library. You place a hand on his arm.

“Could you help me with this Charms assignment? Unless you’re doing Potions with Junior?” you ask.

He had already finished that assignment, but it is you asking. How could he say no to you?

“It’d be my pleasure. Have you started it?”

You shake your head.

“Alright. That’s no problem. Let’s get the books you need.”

He stands up and you follow him into the shelves. You hum to yourself as he selects a few books. You like how easily he finds everything in the library and that he just knows which books you’ll need for the assignment. He doesn’t hold them out for you to carry. You see it as a polite gesture. Regulus is just nice like that.

Back at the table, Dorcas is working earnestly on her homework. Evan, Barty and Pandora are having a hushed discussion that gets even quieter as you and Regulus retake your seats. Regulus starts flipping through the books to find the pages you’d need to reference. You watch him for a minute before realizing that you should be taking the assignment out.

Once you look ready, Regulus moves one of the books right in front of you and explains which part of the assignment the passage relates to. Instinctively, you scoot your chair impossibly closer to his. Regulus tenses slightly; being so close to you will certainly make focusing on your assignment. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. You don’t notice. You’re too focused on trying to understand the point of a knitting charm.

“But I can knit. I enjoy knitting. Why would I bother learning a charm to do it for me?” you ask in a defeated voice.

“Well, what if I needed something knitted? I don’t know how to knit,” Regulus says in a fairly quiet voice, being that you are in the library.

You tilt your head slightly and rest your chin on your hand. “I could knit it for you. I’m quite good. Remember that shirt I knitted for Cas’ girlfriend?”

You casually leave out that you charged Dorcas for the shirt. You wouldn’t charge Regulus. If he needed something, you’d be more than willing to make it for him.

“Then it’s for all the poor sods who don’t know the same wonderful people I do,” he says before realizing that he’s just called you wonderful. Outloud. To your face.

His face burns in embarrassment.

“Oh, you’re so sweet!” you coo, hugging Regulus and being completely oblivious to the red shade of his face. Then you school your own emotions and turn back to your assignment. “Right, poor sods who are lonely and friendless.”

Regulus puts all of his attention on the assignment. He needs to ignore the way his body still feels your warmth minutes after you let him go.

“Right, ‘m bored. Kitchens?” Barty announces after some time.

Pandora and Evan agree immediately and stand up. Dorcas waves them off, still working on her homework. The three don’t even wait for you or Regulus to respond. You both had your heads down, exchanging whispers about your assignment. Regulus is trying not to think about how close you are, and you’re grateful that Regulus is being so patient with you.

After a while, Dorcas excuses herself and says she’ll see you back in the common room. It’s just you and Regulus now. You’ve almost finished your assignment. You’re tired of it, if you’re being honest. You would have given up a while ago if it was anyone else helping you, but it’s Regulus so you’re trying your best to stay focused.

“And you’re done!” Regulus says with a small smile. “You did it.”

“Thanks to you,” you tell him. “I would’ve turned in a half-finished assignment.”

“Do you do that often?”

You shrug. “When the assignment is stupid and pointless.”

Regulus chuckles softly as he stands up to put the books back. He wasn’t expecting you to follow him into the shelves but you did. You don’t say anything, rather humming to yourself again and watching Regulus. You like the way he carries himself and he’s just pretty in general so who wouldn’t want to watch him? Once your things are packed up from the table, you walk back to the common. In your usual fashion, you’re holding onto Regulus’ arm, which means you’ve unintentionally disabled his ability to think clearly.

“Sorry you didn’t get to work on your Potions essay,” you say.

“Don’t be. I wouldn’t have made much progress on it anyway.”

“You know, I find dittany to be quite pretty. Wish it grew naturally around here. My mum grows them at home, a large section of our garden actually. It’d actually be helpful if our dorms weren’t in the dungeons. Then I could grow it in our dorms. I’m sure Pandora agrees with me,” you ramble and you keep going.

Regulus can’t help his smile as he listens to you. He fully meant what he told Barty earlier; he didn’t find dittany, nor its essence, all that interesting. Your appreciation for the plant? He’d be willing to write down every word that was coming out of your mouth. Before you start to descend down the final staircase before the common room, Regulus puts a hand on yours where it's holding onto his arm. His gut is telling him it’s now or never.

“Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” he asks, his voice steady but stomach flipping with nerves.

“Of course! If the weather’s anything like last weekend, it’s going to be beautiful out. Although, I wouldn’t mind if it was a tad less windy.”

“It was windy last weekend, wasn’t it?”

“It was.”

You give his arm a little squeeze before you head down the stairs and into the common room. Once in the common room though, you spot Pandora and Dorcas and rush over to them. Regulus doesn’t mind your sudden departure. The warmth of you on his arm not only lingers, but the fact that you agreed to go on a date with him? He could catch a snitch without his broom. His smile doesn’t falter as he strolls through the common room and disappears into his dorm.

“Oi, you’re smiling again,” Barty says when Regulus sits down at his desk with the intent to work on that stupid Potions essay.

“Smiling illegal now?” he deadpans.

“No… but it’s weird when you do it. You’re not a smiler.”

Regulus doesn’t answer, but he knows what Barty means. He can’t help it though. You agreed to go on a date with him.

---

You meet Regulus at breakfast on Saturday, dressed nicely and casually at the same time. Regulus outdressed you easily, but that was to be expected. Even his most casual outfits tended to be more formal and expensive. He is a Black, afterall.

Regulus did eventually tell Barty about the date. After some teasing in their dorm, Regulus managed to convince him to not make a big deal about it. If it didn’t go well, Regulus didn’t want everyone knowing about it. He fully hopes it’ll go well, but given the chance it doesn’t, he wants to be able to move past it without any issues.

You grab Regulus’ hand when you leave for Hogsmeade. Holding his hand rather than his arm makes Regulus’ heart pound in his chest – oh, the effects you have on him.

“Do you need to go into Spintwitches? Didn’t you say you were running low on broom polish?” you ask.

Regulus stares at you for a moment before nodding. He barely remembers having said that sometime this week, before he even asked you out. He appreciates that you actually pay attention to what he says more than he can express.

“Okay, so we’ll go there and then, if you don’t mind, can we walk around Tomes and Scrolls? I’ve been talking to the owner about expanding his stock on Divination products and I want to see if he’s got anything in yet.”

“Erm, yeah. Anywhere you want to go, darling.”

Even though you’re on a date and holding hands, Regulus’ face still heats up when he realizes he let a pet name slip. He silently thanks the fates that Barty and Evan didn’t “just happen” to tag along today; if they had heard him call you that, Regulus would never hear the end of it. While you notice him looking away from you, to hide the blush, you don’t think much of it. It’s just an odd quirk that he’s been doing around you more and more.

Regulus tries to not take too much time in Spintwitches. He only ever uses one brand of polish, but since he’s buying it, he has to mentally debate if he needs more rags or a sharpener for his tail-twig clippers. He decides against both. The whole time in the store, you held onto his hand until he needed it to get out his money to pay.

You swing his arm a little bit as you head to Tomes and Scrolls. As soon as you step into the shop, you pull Regulus toward a “New!” stand. Regulus feels apprehensive as he eyes the stand. It has more mainstream Divination books, but also ones that are more focused on crystal energies and aura readings. Regulus has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from scoffing at a “Nargle Repellant Kit.” He is fairly certain that nargles don’t exist. You scan the whole stand, even dropping Regulus’ hand for the second time so you could crouch to see the lower items.

“This is brilliant!” you exclaim, pulling out a book with depictions of constellations and crystals on its cover. “Dora will be thrilled when I show her this!”

You almost make a comment about how you’re surprised that she didn’t come today. It’s rarely ever just you and Regulus. You like that it is, but the point still stands. It’s not common.

You grab two more books and head to the register. When the owner tells you the cost, you go to grab your money, but before you can even open your coin purse, Regulus has placed the correct amount on the counter.

“Oh, I could’ve gotten that,” you say, a bit shocked.

“It’s my treat.”

“Then thank you, kind sir.”

Regulus gives you a soft smile and takes the bagged books from the owner. It wasn’t your tote of school supplies, but it was close enough – Regulus would carry it until you returned to the common room.

“Anywhere else you want to go or should we go for butterbeers?” Regulus asks.

“Hmmm…” you hum, taking Regulus’ hand again and giving it a squeeze. “Butterbeers. And then Honeydukes before we go back to the castle. I will eat all my Bertie Beans in the Three Broomsticks if we stop at Honeydukes first.”

Regulus chuckles. “That I know. Nothing like butterbeer to wash down the delightful flavor of earwax.”

You giggle and squeeze his hand again. The Three Broomsticks is busy, which isn’t surprising in any way. You find a booth for the two of you and a small wave of guilt falls over you. It feels wrong to take up an entire booth with just two of you. You make a mental note to invite any of your friends over if you see them.

“Tell me, how did you get Mr. Brown to order these books?” Regulus asks, patting the Tomes and Scrolls bag next to him.

“It was so difficult. But really, I think Dora and I just wore him down. You know, asking and asking for these type of books and telling him it’s vital to our education. Little bit of forgery…”

“Forgery?” Regulus repeats.

“Well, he wanted a note from Professor Dawntry saying that they were necessary, or beneficial at least. And do you think she’d write that? No. So… we took it upon ourselves to write it. It’s all thanks to Junior for forging her signature. I think that really sold it to Mr. Brown.”

Regulus smirks. “And what if he ever talks to Dawntry in person? Asks her about the books that she’s endorsed?”

“I already purchased the books, silly,” you say with an affectionate eye roll. “You purchased the books technically. But what’s he going to do? Force me to return them?”

“I suppose business is business.”

“Exactly! And it’s not like I’m requesting books on the Dark Arts.”

Then you start to explain the more intricate details about this particular branch of Divination that you’re looking into and how the Hogwarts library only has so many books on it. You’ve even read the books on it that are in the Restricted Section with real notes from Professor Dawntry.

“That’s where we got the signature for Junior to copy,” you say.

Regulus nods and you continue. He’s more than fascinated while listening to you ramble. He hopes his staring is more ‘attentive listener’ than ‘creepy stalker’ or ‘you have something on your face.’

You’re pleased that Regulus doesn’t look bored with you right now. You’ve talked about this subject in the past to a variety of people and most of them give you skeptical looks and try to change the subject. And then there are the few who look more bored than the average student in Professor Binns’ class. Regulus is just attentive and it fuels the butterflies in your stomach.

After a few butterbeers, Regulus hands Madam Rosmerta a few galleons before you head over to Honeydukes.

“I can pay you back for that,” you say, once again reaching for your coin purse before Regulus puts his hand on your arm.

“Don’t. Told you, it’s my treat.”

“What? The whole day? Reg, you already got my books!”

“I invited you, darling. Today’s on me.”

A faint blush dusts your cheeks. “Damn, you should invite me to Hogsmeade more often.”

That’s the plan, Regulus thinks. He feels it would’ve been too forward, too flirty to say out loud, but it is the plan. If today continues to go well, he plans on being your Hogsmeade date quite often and being your date to the Yule Ball and asking you to wear his extra jersey to quidditch games and being your study buddy and… He is getting ahead of himself. He needs to finish the first date strong before he can plan out the rest of your relationship.

You don’t take long in Honeydukes. Both of you know exactly which sweets you want and where they are. Having stopped there every visit since you started going to Hogsmeade in third year, it’s a well rehearsed visit. Once more, Regulus pays for your things. You don’t protest at all this time, knowing that he’ll insist that it’s his treat. It’s a tad bizarre the longer you think about it; you don’t recall him paying for anyone else that often. Usually when the whole group goes to the Three Broomsticks, everyone throws a galleon or a few sickles on the table before you leave, based on how much each drinks or if someone ordered food. Your solution? Just don’t think about it. He’s being nice and you don’t complain when someone is being extra nice to you. Definitely not when it’s Regulus.

On the way back to the castle, you tell Regulus about the games you used to play with cousins using Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. Some of the games you’ve played at Hogwarts through the years, but your cousins have their own rules and methods of telling the flavors apart. Regulus tells you about the Chocolate Eternals that Sirius would sneak him when they were younger.

“He’d have to remind me not to chew them every time. Mum’s only given me enough to get two so we each get one. They don’t melt. Make it last.”

You give him a slightly pitiful look. “I guess sweets weren’t too common growing up?”

“No. Mother believes they are for special occasions and even then, they are limited… Come to think of it, I’m not sure Mother actually gave Sirius the money for the chocolates. He probably nicked it from her purse.”

Regulus chuckles at the idea and you’re glad the conversation returns to its previous light-hearted nature. Regulus is able to keep his unspoken promise to carry your things all the way back to the common room.

“Thanks for everything, Reg,” you say, giving Regulus a hug before taking your things back to your dorm.

Regulus smiles to himself as he heads back to his. He feels proud of himself. He had a great first date with you and you seemed to enjoy yourself.

---

Regulus starts placing himself next to you as much as he can. Or, at least, that’s what it feels like. You’re not complaining by any means. It’s nice and you like it. It’s just different. But you do notice that he’s becoming more relaxed around you, more himself. There have even been a few times where it’s just the two of you and you fall into easy conversation.

After dinner on Friday evening, you sit next to Regulus on the plush couch in the common room. He’s got out the Transfiguration textbook, clearly doing the assigned reading. You have no intention of doing so. Regulus becomes less stiff as you sit down. It’s a miniscule change but you notice it. You scooch closer to Regulus and he moves his arm around you, holding you closer into his side.

Pandora and Barty, having witnessed this, exchange curious glances. Regulus had told Barty that the date went well and he just assumed you were on the same page, that you are now dating. You had told Pandora about Regulus buying and how sweet he was the entire time, followed with a desperate ‘Do you think he might like me?’ Both Pandora and Barty had never seen Regulus put his arm around someone like that and he definitely never pulled someone in closer to him. His apparent tolerance of touches applying to only you was one thing; this was a whole new level.

“You smell good,” you mutter into his chest.

“Hm, thank you,” Regulus says quietly.

Then he musters all his courage and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes go wide and you sit up, staring at him. Pandora and Barty have similar looks of surprise on their faces. Their quiet and previously boring evening in the common room just got interesting.

“You… just… You kissed…” you stutter out.

You’re unable to actually finish your thought. You aren’t completely oblivious. You know that Regulus doesn’t give affection.

“Erm, is that okay?” he asks, suddenly looking bashful and unsure of himself.

“You don’t… You don’t… do that?” you say, sounding very, very unsure of what just happened.

He wets his lips nervously. “I thought it’d be okay, with you, you know, since we’re dating?”

You sit up even straighter.

“We are?” you gasp.

Regulus’ face burns bright red and out of the corner of your eye, you can see Barty trying not to fall out of his chair with suppressed laughter.

“Since when?” you add.

“Last week? I asked you on a date and it went well? At least, I thought it went well… I had a good time. Did you not?”

You gasp louder and throw yourself at Regulus, burying him in a hug.

“Merlin, I didn’t realize! No, it did go well!” You pull back from him with the widest grin he has ever seen. “You like me?”

Regulus adjusts himself next to you, turning slightly to be more facing you. So apparently you weren’t on the same page about everything, but you seemed open to it.

“He doesn’t go around kissing everyone, sweetheart,” Barty chimes in, earning himself a glare from Regulus.

“Is that why you paid for everything? Because it was a date?” you ask Regulus.

He nods and you pull him into another hug.

“So we’re dating,” you say.

“If that’s okay with you?” Regulus says, still sounding unsure of himself.

You pull back again and this time it’s you nodding. Then you get off the couch and practically jump onto Pandora’s lap.

“Did you hear, Dora? I’m dating Regulus!” you say happily. “Oh, I need to find Dorcas! She needs to know!”

And you are bounding away in search of your friend. You don’t hesitate to tell everyone that you pass that you’re dating Regulus Black, yes, the Regulus Black. You can’t help it – you’re just so excited that this yearslong crush has manifested into something real.

“About time too,” Pandora says once you’ve disappeared up the stairs toward the girls’ dormitories. “She’s been smitten with you for years.”

“I’d say you’re perfect for each other. Mr. ‘Allergic to touching’ and Ms. ‘Always touching,’” Barty adds.

Regulus throws a pillow at Barty, which sends him into a cackling fit. Barty knows that Regulus must really like you to let him get away with that comment. After all, Regulus could’ve thrown his Transfiguration book at him.

Tags: @navs-bhat

#marauders #marauders fic #marauder-misprint #request #regulus black x you #regulus black fluff #regulus black x reader #regulus black #slytherin!reader #whimsy!reader

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c0ffinshit · 8 months ago

Text

Simon (John Q.) SFW AND NSFW Headcanons

a/n: i knew yall would like that so here are so hcs that i had that i can now share with the world

warnings: controversial, mentions of pussy eating, me speaking my truth

SFW:

okay, first off, this man claims to HATE modern music but… he has a soft spot for Fiona Apple

listen, this man is madddd and if he were a woman he would be a mean butch lesbian

he always drives you everywhere

even when you’re like “babe i can drive its fine” he’s like “no, i’ll drive”

he tells people his favorite movie is something film bro-y like fight club, but his favorite movie is something like little shop of horrors or when harry met sally

sorry im projecting

honestly, he is bad about talking about his emotions like homie doesn't have the words for it so he just gets angry

BUT he learns a lot from you about that

actually, you learn a lot from him too

he talks so highly of you, even before dating

like always talks about how he can hardly have a good and controlled day without you

if you two are a long distance away, he'll always call you and talk about your day

but even then, you two will stay on the phone for hours, just talking about whatever and how much you miss each other

always tries to be a sweet boyfriend and make you breakfast

expect he will burn it and the kitchen will be on fire

i will say this: simon is a sensitive boy, esp with people's emotions like if you're sad and crying about something you called 'stupid' he'll still hold you and tell you how not stupid it is

he HATES when you're upset, esp if he can't do anything to help you

he'll just sadly watch you til you feel better

and when you do, he'll get you your favorite blanket and stuffed animals and kiss you like the good bf. HE. IS.

sorry, my daddy issues are on full display *sobs*

definitely doesn't like it when you call him babygirl or pookie

even as a joke

the man doesn't get that

my man has an old soul IM SO FR

like he doesn’t really like modern TV or music

movies… that a different story

HE FUCKING LOVES MOVIES.

especially if it is like a movie musical or high fantasy (like lotr or hobbit)

maybe a comedy but like a comedy from like the '60s that is probably super offensive now

nfsw under the cut

NSFW:

first off, do i agree with the top allegations for simon? kinda.

listen listen, i only say kinda because of the fact that this man has angry ISSUES

like if you are being a brat, this man doesn’t hold back definitely into spanking for this reason

OKAY I HAVE A THING… when you two do it together, he is very… parental (if that makes sense)

like yes he is daddy we know but like he is the type to whisper “this is for your own good” as he spanks you

two words: BODY. WORSHIP.

this man will kiss and touch your body like it's your last day on earth

AUGH AND AND the look he gives you when he’s inside you FUCKKKKKKK

the look is filled with so much love and gratitude for you okay like this needs to be stated at all but like 8 inches

the type of 8 inches that hits against your cervix in the right way

AND ANOTHER THING when you two first get together, his libido is very low

which also means he is very easy to take care of

soooooo if you wanted to just do a blowjob, you hypothetically could

but then, like three or four months into dating, HORN DOG.

you're surpised when he isn't pressing against your while cuddling

but if anything, you’ll be the one getting head, not him

THIS MAN IS PUSSY WHIPPED.

like he will grab your thighs and pull you closer while eating you out he lovesssss hearing your moans when you're under him UGH

dude but like on the rare time like he will bottom, its lowkey kinda…

JOHN Q IS A SWITCH AND I WILL CONTINUE TO SPEAK MY TRUTH

this mfer groans like no tomorrow when he does bottom

soft,,,, begg…ing

like “you’re so good.” and then under his breath its “please keep going.”

also that boy has a praise kink with hints of degradation

am i saying that because i wrote a whole fic about it? yes. fuck yes.

im chewing at the bars of my enclosure

he gets so blushy when you look at him with your fuck-me eyes

COMMUNICATE WITH THAT BOY.

tell him what you want

tell him where you want it

tell him about your fantasies of him

he loves hearing your voice, especially when you talk in a soft and seductive voice

listen, the only reason i kinda don’t agree with the top allegations is because i believe JOHN Q IS A SERVICE TOP.

i've made my point very clear about that throughout this section

#kyle gallner x reader #kyle gallner #simon dia x reader #dia #dinner in america #john q x reader

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whokilledsamara · 7 months ago

Note

well, since i asked for a dogday nsfw alphabet might as well ask for catnap as well lol

if that’s okay, ofc. i don’t want to be a bother 🥹

(love reading your writings btw !!)

CATNAP NSFW ALPHABET

a catnap x reader list. {an: heheh... why ofc.. hes got to be the sexiest one of all in my opinion ;3 also thank you for enjoying my fics, i try my best <3}

warnings! : oh boy.... hes quite the aggressive type. nsfw, obviously, HARDCORE sex. unlike dogday, catnap doesnt hold back. blood play, abuse kink, dubcon if you squint/somno, aggressive sex, MASSIVE dick. yes, you are still in the factory. this is pre-escaping. {for this one, catnap is bbi but built like dogday. not his "monster" form like in the game.} afab and amab. period sex mentioned. asphyxiation... augh.. hes sadistic..

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

unfortunately, little to no aftercare. catnap isnt one to care much. yes he loves you, but he doesnt find aftercare appealing. probably most he will do is clean you up and let you sleep on him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he likes your ass. and thighs. likes sleeping on them. also if you're afab hes a big fan of your tits. likes kneeding them {hehehe cat biscuits}

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

much like dogday, he cums a lot. also due to his sheer size. not like he can get you pregnant anyways so almost always its a creampie. or your face if hes facefucking you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he wants to fuck you on your period

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

hasnt done it too much, but hes a quick learner. good at noticing body language so he knows what you like.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

any position where he can choke you. he likes to brink you on the edge of passing out but not quite enough to actually do it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

very serious. not awkward at all. wants to hurt you and finds nothing funny in that {maybe a little bit due to his sadism}

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he doesnt care enough to keep up. obviously hes covered in fur, but theres a decent amount of fluff down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he doesnt give a single fuck about romance. {VERY rarely and i mean that heavily, will he ever show even a hint of softness, but its there.}

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

when you arent there he does. hes a horny guy.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

blood play, knife play {claws}, abuse kink, impact play, petplay, etc

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

his "room" as he calls it. but he also doesnt care where he does it. he will do it in the middle of the playcare if he wants to.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

hes a pervert, so basically anything that looks even slightly suggestive even if it isnt. or seeing you hurt yourself. {not sh, but like in general}

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

scat/vomit play. ew.. not much else he wont do.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

hes kinda selfish. he prefers receiving. nothing gets him off more than seeing you in pain trying to take him all in your mouth. he doesnt mind giving though, he has a rough, cat-like tongue, so its heavenly whether afab or amab.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

fast and rough. as expected.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

hell yea. he will do anything as long as he gets to nut.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

any risk, hes willing to take. doesnt care if it hurts you {okay maybe ha cares a little bit}. sadism....

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

stamina? never wears down. even though hes a generally sleepy guy, that doesnt mean he doesnt have a lot of stamina.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

nah, he IS the toy. doesnt need anything else. hes easily able to get you off.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

constantly teasing and edging you. if you try to tease him it will just piss him off. goodluck walking.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not loud, does grunt and growl a lot. he wants you to be loud tho..

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

loves digging his claws in you, finds it so hot to mark you. also heavily into somno. i mean.. his whole motto is sleeping. {hes such an asshole i love him sm}

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

biiiggg boy.. kinda a given though. bigger than dogday, at 16 inches.. ouchie.. >.< {luckily hes nice enough not to force all of it in!!}

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

high, very high. tries to fuck you as often as he can, even when you are asleep, he doesnt care.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

if hes able to he does. but he doesnt necessarily NEED to, he just likes sleeping.

{sorry if this was too much or too graphic, just my personal headcannons. if you arent a fan of this lmk!!! i can easily make another one more mundane.}

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

#smiling critters #catnap #catnap x reader #catnap x player #smut #catnap x y/n #cnc somno #dubc0n #abuse k1nk #afab reader #amab reader

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coveofsecrets · 3 months ago

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@kiyoahdiy requested: “Platonic yandere Shanks as the father of the reader, but the reader is a marine and serves in the Navy, the complete opposite of her father.”

─── ✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

“𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍”

-> Platonic!yandere!Shanks x reader

-> Warnings: small descriptions of violence, kidnapping, possible ooc-ness, this is written with daughter reader in mind for the request but no pronouns were used across the fic.

-> Word count: 2.4k

-> Yipppeeee my first request!!! Wehehehe thank you for requesting <3. Ngl considering Shanks MINIMAL FUCKING SCREEN TIME, this was a bit difficult, but I’m proud of it nontheless! I think?? Idk. Tbh, I’m not too proud of this??? Not a huge fan of it, but here we go!!! Augh

─── ✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

There are clouds over your head.

Drifting about the overhead stream, they are much like plankton, not using any energy to defy where the currents take them.

Lazy, but at the same time, beautiful.

The thin, spread-out clouds, providing drops of paint to the canvas of blue up above; the white mists barely count as brushstrokes, moreso faint dabs along the board.

Despite their little abundance, they're a wonderful addition to the painting.

“There you are!”

The warmth of a much bigger person appears next to you; warmth that's plentiful, unlike what’s above.

“Been awhile since I last saw you- I was starting to get worried! Turns out you were here all along.” A bark of laughter comes from the bigger person. “Whatcha out here, for? See something interesting?”

A heavy hand patting your head, your attention is ripped away from the clouds, to the one behind you.

…huh.

Red hair gently flying with the wind; similar to the plankton-like clouds high up.

“Pretty.”

A simple answer from you, unknown if it’s about the mist or the person’s hair, but it’s one your dad takes.

The man hums, “Yeah?”

“Mhm. It looks… It looks like one of those paintings. Like the one we saw in, uh…”

What was that island called again?

A small groan from you, head tilting to the side as you try your best to remember the name of that place.

Hm…

Suddenly, as if a sharp rock has hit the back of your head, the name comes to you.

“Pomerine!”

Shanks laughs.

No warning given, he laughs.

Not just a small chuckle- no, that’s not how he laughs. It’s always a loud, boisterous guffaw that bursts from his stomach; the kind of laugh you’d hear at a party, a gathering for him, his crew, and anybody who wants to join.

Instead of joining in, you bristle, shoulders tensing as you shout “Stop laughing! Isn’t that the name?!”

To your question, there is no answer.

He just continues to cackle endlessly, the sound echoing across the ship, his joy reaching to touch the world.

Yet, despite its spread, the clouds do not care. They just continue to drift along the sky, lazily drifting past the both of you.

Free, unbothered, unshackled.

Much like you, now.

“Cadet?”

A voice; soft fall of the snow, gentle cracking of a fireplace; fills your ear.

Turning to look at the one in a higher position than you, pink glasses reflecting the sun, white coat draped over broad shoulders; you salute.

“Yes, commander?” You hum.

Sea-touched eyebrows furrow, a look of concern washing over her face. “A- are you alright? You’ve been standing here f- for a while now….” Her concern quietly brought up, as if afraid to express her opinion.

A while?

In turn, your own eyebrows furrow.

Didn’t I just get here?

“Really?” Your tongue too slow for your mind, you practically drawl, “Sorry commander, must’ve…” a yawn, “must’ve lost track of time.”

“A- are you sure? You weren’t even here for lunch…”

Lunch?

Aw, man.

Being able to indulge as much as you want, tasting cooking that’s not your own- lunch is your favorite time of the day, and you didn’t even get to indulge in that?

An “Oh.” is all that leaves you, but the disappointment is evident.

“I- it’s okay, though!” To contrast your own sorrow, Tashigi’s tone lifts up. “I saved you some food!” Gloved hands reaching up, a bowl of soup comes into view.

Oh.

Daisies bloom inside your chest.

How kind.

“…thank you, Commander.” You take the bowl, bringing it to your lips.

As usual, it’s delicious.

No matter how the dish may vary- less spices, more water, a bit raw- whoever the chef may be always cooks the signature soup beautifully. In fact, these differences, these imperfections, are what make it yummy.

To your thanks, Tashigi smiles.

Soft socks against cold feet, cool rags against sweaty foreheads.

Her smile’s nice.

To be honest, the entirety of G5’s smiles are nice.

Lips pulled back to show a sneer, lips pulling up to a shy grin, lips pulling down to hide their joy; they’re all so, so different, but so, so enjoyable.

Here, in the Marines, everything’s different. Every day is different, and that’s truly enjoyable.

One day, you could be going about your regular cadet drills, and then another, you could be engaged in a bloody battle with the enemy.

Like right now.

Wait, what?

In a blink, everything’s changed.

All around you, your cremates are running, shouting orders, loading cannons- blasts of those are too close to your ears, sound akin to thunder in a storm.

How did it-?

In your hands, there is a cannon ball, and you find yourself placing it into its holder, lighting the fuel, and covering your ears.

Another strike of lighting, to the enemy ship.

That ship is like any other; big, brown, and with people standing at the end, scrambling around and shouting things at one another.

Oh…

You zoned out again.

God, why do you zone out so much?

It’s been a problem for… awhile, now. Even on the previous ship you boarded, you’d always space off to god knows where. No matter what’s happening- no matter how fun, new, or interesting- you will always find a way to detach yourself from the world.

Well.

Not like it matters, now.

Right now, you have a job to do, and that is loading the cannons to fire at the enemy.

“Vice Admiral-!” A Petty Officer, Gal, calls out, “The Red Hair Pirates’-”

Red Hair Pirates?

Ice-cold nails graze your brain.

“-sails are bowsing! I think they’re planning to engage!”

Bowsing?

The Red Hair Pirates?

Engage?

The crew of an Emperor?

Your father’s crew?

That-

No.

That doesn’t seem right.

That doesn’t seem right at all-

They’re not a type to engage unless necessary, or if they want to talk with the other ship, and as far as you know, there’s nothing to talk about with Marines, so to intend engagement…

Those ice-cold nails against your cerebellum start to stab into the flesh.

“That right?”

The quiet rumble of sea emperors, the loud cry of shoebills.

It’s Vice Admiral Smoker.

Standing in front of the captain’s cabin, facing his underlings, what he says is easily heard by everyone on deck.

What he says easily throws ice-cold water over your head.

“All men, get ready for an on-deck battle!”

Bile rushes up your throat.

“This is not your average pirate we’re facing, but an Emperor! Be on guard, and take them down at all costs!”

They don’t know what they’re up against!

”No matter what, do not let them gain the upper hand. This might be the chance to take down an Emperor of the Sea!”

They’re going to die-!

Compared to your own thoughts, though, the bloodthirsty cries make them feel as if they are nothing.

Swords raised, guns held high; your crew is excited.

Such is the nature of g5.

Violent, crude, and disgusting; all of those traits are combined into one lovable group, the sect more than any average pirate can handle.

But the Red Hair pirates aren’t average.

Whereas every other pirate crew is a fly, the billion-bounty crew is the stars themselves.

Unreachable, only able to be seen at rare moments- and when they are, it’s best hoped they haven’t incurred the fire’s wrath, else a person will be incinerated by them.

It’s too much for G5 to handle.

The meat they drool for will only devour them, their much longer fangs and talons digging into G5’s flesh, forcing them to regret the stupid decision they have made.

They will keel.

Keel, to the might of the Red-Hair pirates.

Keel, to the might of Shanks.

Keel, to the might of your dad.

You don’t want that to happen.

After finally escaping his clutches, hopping from ship to ship, and finding people you love, you can’t let all of it be torn from your hands.

You can’t let them be torn from your hands.

Just like that.

Like an adult stealing candy from a baby, like a bird feeding its young, like a mosquito sucking out blood.

Easily.

I don’t-

Your lungs start to shrivel up.

I can’t-

Your vision becomes blurry.

I- I-!

Your hands start to go numb.

I-!

You can’t do anything.

As much as you want to stop them, to somehow talk them into not picking a fight they cannot win, you know you won’t be able to.

You know you’re powerless in this situation.

So all you can do, in this situation, is help.

Try to help, because in a fight, in a democracy, in any sort of situation, the more numbers, the better.

Even if it’s one, even if it’s a number that is ultimately useless, maybe, just maybe, your small addition could do something.

Maybe it can turn the tide.

It’s a small chance- a chance that not even a gambling addict would take- but it’s a chance.

For any opportunity to keep your freedom, you’ll take anything.

Forcing your lungs to expand, fighting past the blurry vision, hesitant hands grab at the sword strapped on your hip, unsheathing it to hold it up with the rest of your crew.

The weapon points towards the clouds, unbound and unshackled.

Maybe… like I’ll continue to be, if we win this.

Or maybe not.

In the end, your number was useless.

The tens of numbers were useless.

The numbers, known for being relentless, were useless.

You’ve all lost.

Against the desert of the Red Hair Pirates, they were nothing but a speck of sand in the crew’s domain.

Bradycardia in a dog, carbon dioxide in a human.

Even Vice-Admiral Smoker and Tashigi, the strongest people in your sect, are out.

It wasn’t even to the might of the entire crew; it was just one person.

One singular piece, one molecule, which was the head.

Emperor of the Sea, Red-Haired Shanks, your father.

Your father.

At the end of this carnage, he stands; red hair sticking out amongst the brown flooring underneath him, cape blacking out the people on the floor, expression grossly contrasting against the scene.

Shanks is smiling.

Smiling.

Loose and careless, eyes crinkled, he has the face of nothing more than a cocky bastard who knows he’s won.

A cocky bastard that, with one ant left out of the whole colony, can kick his feet up and savor a cold beer, relaxing with the bulk of the threat gone.

A lax giant, facing a terrified ant.

Back painfully pressed against the railing, shallow breaths puffed through your throat, hands shaking around the hilt of your sword…

You’re scared.

You’re so, so scared.

You could practically die of fright, of your heart beating too fast please stop please just stop it stop beating so fast it HURTS-

He speaks.

“Hey, bud-” his voice is a soft murmur against the raging sea- “Been awhile since I last saw you, huh?” He sounds… tired.

A man who has gone through the worst, braving cold and heat, fighting friend and foe, trudging through declining sanity; all that, to find who he holds dear to him.

You don’t know why, but that thought scares you even more.

Something about that man never stopping, never letting himself be swayed by his own bodily needs to the point of being driven to a state that’s barely alive…

You were never going to be out of his grasp for long.

A wheeze is brought out of your mouth, expanding your throat far more than it needs to; a bad response, unclear on what exactly you feel, but it’s a response he takes.

“I-” you start, only to be interrupted by Shanks.

“I’ve missed you, y’know?” Hairy hands come up to you, and for some odd reason, despite how much you want to, you can’t stop it.

It’s as if those nails from before have moved past your skull, spreading its icy wrath across your body, starting by freezing your bones.

For that, you can’t move.

No matter how much you will yourself to, all your body can do for you, is stay still.

Stay still, until the threat passes; still, until the predator leaves the area; still, because running or fighting will be pointless.

His hands caress the skin of your face.

The contact made, red eyes widen, dark bags underneath highlighted, before the organs of sight are forced to relax.

“Aw, cmon,” Shanks chuckles, “There’s no need to look at me like that…” His voice is now… shaky.

Afraid.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re safe.”

His hands feel so warm.

So secure.

So tight.

You want to get away from it, you need to get away from it, you can’t take it anymore-!

However, your muscles won’t respond, the bones holding them together stuck in place- locked into each other, preventing anything from moving.

The smile of your father widens, reaching so far up that his eyes crinkle.

Something’s wrong.

When Shanks smiles- genuinely smiles- his face glows. Gums exposed, teeth bared together, eyebrows high up his forehead and eye crinkles reaching across his face.

This one… this one, though… his teeth aren’t anywhere to be seen, his eyebrows almost cover his eyes, and those crinkles are nowhere to be seen. His face is no longer the sun you once knew, but a version that’s hidden behind the clouds; dark and unknown.

“Let’s go back home, yeah?”

Those words.

That phrase.

The tone.

Finally, you’ve snapped out of your petrification, bones shattering the wall of ice around it, and-

“Wait-”

A pathetic whimper, so small and meek, comes out of you as you step back; shuffle back, really.

That small shuffle is met with a wide step, multiple more following soon after.

The panic in his voice does not match his walking. The Emperor moves slow, steady.

Orca to squid, human to rabbit.

“Please-”

But how much can begging do, when they fall on willfully closed ears?

Nothing.

Thus, the strong arms of Red-Haired Shanks pick you up, bringing you close to his chest.

Away from liberty, closer to isolation.

Once more, you’ll go back to how it was.

Once more, you won’t be able to see the clouds as you please.

Once more, you’ll be safe.

After so long, your dear old daddy has you back, and this time, he’ll never let go.

#yandere one piece #yandere one piece x reader #yandere shanks #yandere shanks x reader #yandere red hair shanks #yandere red hair shanks x reader #yandere akagami no shanks #yandere akagami no shanks x reader

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tiggyloo · 3 months ago

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Y'all are driving up a fucking wall with your explicitly non-canon "canon compliant" fics and art. I appreciate them don't get me wrong but can you guys PLEASE for the love of GOD reread the books. Y'all get literally everything wrong 99% of the time please stop calling it canon compliant when that is FACTUALLY INCORRECT

Additional:

> As stated above, He Xuan had NO IDEA about the fate swap until it was leaked to him, and it's heavily implied that this happened VERY RECENTLY prior to the present book timeline. And to go with that, he literally only infiltrated Heaven to investigate Shi Wudu, after becoming a supreme and learning that the random ass guy that showed up when he died was the Water Master. That part is stated by Hua Cheng right at the end of the Black Water Arc.

> He Xuan didn't start denying his and Shi Qingxuan's friendship until BOOK THREE and we know this because of how offended Shi Qingxuan gets when He Xuan immediately says he's not his best friend after Shi Qingxuan suggests that maybe they shouldn't be best friends until he's gotten rid of the Reverend. And based on Shi Qingxuan's reactions to the other denials, it can even be assumed that He Xuan also actively and publicly stated that they were best friends. "Why didn't you say 'my best friend'?" is what Shi Qingxuan says during the game in the run down wind and water temple, for just one example. He's SURPRISED that He Xuan didn't say that, indicating that he would have usually.

> From their very introduction He Xuan is shown throwing himself in harm's way without hesitation to protect Shi Qingxuan. This is how they are introduced to us and it's shown repeatedly all the way through the BWA. And even when he's at his most furious about what happened he's still protecting Shi Qingxuan. He doesn't want SQX to die and he absolutely does not want to kill him himself. Did you guys just forget the part where he doesn't harm people who don't legitimately deserve it???

> He Xuan doesn't just eat any random ghost he comes across. It's explicitly stated that he's only eaten about 500, and about 400 of those have been high ranking water ghosts. Other than that he just eats normal human food.

> There is a barrier around his territory that prevents the majority of vessels from entering. Boats can't just get in there, and he certainly doesn't seek them out.

> Stop making him act and think so fucking violently good LORD. That is legitimately the most incorrect characterization you could possibly have for him where are you GETTING THAT FROM. Him being angry as a result of learning what Shi Wudu did is not his normal personality.

> He does not get powers or memories from ghosts he eats. That is not in the books ANYWHERE. And for the Reverend, that is the ONLY thing he can create and control, and again, he did not get its memories, and even if he did, the Reverend wouldn't know jack shit. Literally the book says he "ate it later" and that's IT. NOTHING else is said about it aside from him being able to control it. There is not even a vague implication that he got anything else from eating that thing.

> YOU PEOPLE ARE DRIVING ME ABSOLUTELY CRAZY again I really do appreciate all the stuff y'all make I REALLY DO but PLEASE. REREAD THE BOOKS AND STOP CALLING ALL THIS SHIT CANON WHEN IT'S NOT, FOR MY SANITY. AUGH

EVERYTHING I've listed and MORE is stated up front in the story. Why is THIS the stuff that almost every beefleaf shipper forgets. It is so very frustrating

Transcript of the images under the cut (images are from book 7 of the seven seas translation btw)

"Mmm, yes... Is something the matter?" Xie Lian asked.

Xie Lian gave a brief account of his service, and the state preceptor replied, "He would definitely be furious with you if he knew about this."

"Gege, regarding the Reverend of Empty Words," Hua Cheng continued, "at first you didn't want to get involved in that case, but you were still pulled in-though thankfully not too deeply. Neither Black Water nor Shi Wudu dragged those hundreds of fishermen into the Heavenly Tribulation in the South Sea. If not those two, who is most capable of something like that?"

Only after each incident had been laid out before him did Xie Lian realize the truth-every step he'd taken since his return had been made under Jun Wu's close watch and guided by his hand.

Hua Cheng crossed his arms. "I'm assuming that he's doing this for two reasons. First, his sick mentality drives him to throw test after test at you to see what path you'll choose-endlessly hoping that you'll go down the one he paved for you. Second, he was probably using you as a sword to cut down other heavenly officials' power.

"The heavenly officials of the previous dynasty must've traumatized him deeply. Now he's hypervigilant and requires absolute control over everything-he tolerates no threats to his power or status and allows no heavenly officials to catch up to him. And I think..."

Xie Lian was also mulling over the same points. "Think what?"

"When Shi Wudu changed Shi Qingxuan's fate, and when Black Water infiltrated the heavens in the name of investigation," Hua Cheng said, "do you really think he didn't suspect a thing?"

Xie Lian had been wondering about that as well. Could Jun Wu really have seen nothing from his seat on the highest throne? That's hardly plausible. He could directly examine every report and scroll that passed through Ling Wen's hands, so was it truly possible that he never noticed the forgeries? The Water Master committed such a heinous crime and deceived nearly the entire world, but he lived peacefully for many years. He was conveniently only exposed when he started dominating the Upper Court.

"Perhaps he knew everything from the very start, but the Water Master didn't threaten his status back then. So he made no move to expose him," Hua Cheng continued. "Exposing the matter early on wouldn't have necessarily worked to his advantage. A new Water Master would ascend if Shi Wudu was banished, and they might not have such an enormous transgression that could be used against them. I'd have been very displeased with Shi Wudu if I were Jun Wu, but I wouldn't have needed to use my own hands if I wanted to get rid of him-all I'd need to do was wait. I would simply watch quietly as the Water Master grew more and more outrageous, arrogant, and fearless, and when he finally exhausted my tolerance, I'd just leak the fate-switching affair to Black Water."

And Black Water would of course avenge himself and his deceased family.

Hua Cheng continued to explain, "As for him gathering millions of ghosts in the Kiln to birth a new supreme, it was likely in order to..."

Xie Lian came to his senses and finished for him. "...Create balance."

"Yeah," Hua Cheng said. "He was probably delighted to welcome the birth of a malicious supreme, one that would cause havoc in the Mortal Realm. As long as there are creatures making trouble, there will be people praying."

And a god's spiritual power was only made stronger by the prayers of their devotees!

#phoebe be quiet #heaven official's blessing #beefleaf #he xuan #shi Qingxuan #tgcf #tian guan ci fu #AAAA

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daisybell-on-a-carousel · 6 months ago

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I may have many issues with Countdown but I can appreciate it for a few things and that includes Jason meeting murder Batman* (Earth-51 Batman)

I mean to start Jason clearly doesn't agree with the guy. He's very not into the whole "let's kill all these guys" attitude and thinks murder batman is crazy (and outright says so) But also. He puts on the suit he's given that this Batman made, he's fights with him. He mourns him. He's upset with the death. After Batman failed him on his own earth he meets one that accepts him

And augh. They haunt me. Aughh I wish I could write I wanna write and get to see a fic about them so so bad

(do Not tell me to just write it anyway please amd thank you. auuaaoighh)

Because like! The way murder batman was SO quick to start seeing Jason as his own dead Jason and start referring to him as such.

The way murder batman never got to know about Jason's Red Hooding but AUGH. Can you just IMAGINE the moral dilemma he'd have with that??! He probably would've killed a crime lord Jason before ever learning his identity, or learning it too late. Aughhhaoujgh

They had to kill off murderbatman he wouldve been too powerful otherwise. For example I think he wouldve Not been willing to let go of this living Jason

Multiverse kidnapping story where after meeting and then leaving, murder bat finds our Jason amd just. Fucking takes him and pretends it's his Jason. Augh that'd be so fun

This page is everything ^

Theyre so so normal about eachother. I'm chewing on them like a dog with its favorite toy btw

#*a batman. who. iirc. after his Jason Todd's death killed the Joker and then like every other villain n criminal the heros face.#Batman likes to say that if he killed. he wouldn't be able to stop. And this is the Batman who doesn't stop)#In my own reading I def saw their short story as trying to show Jason as someone who doesn't want to #and doesn't consider killing every criminal something Lost Days also does.#batman #dc comics #jason todd #earth-51 batman #for references i think its just the main countdown comic (none of the side ones)#and you just need to start at like issue 16-15? and go down. then read 1 #(countdown. counts down. so its goes from 52 -> 1. not 1 -> 52)#also yeagh jason was the first red robin. he let tim have the suit. that is in fact the same suit #used briefly while tim was still robin and i suppose fully donned at some point after bftc #i have Thoughts about that too but not right now #ANYWAY. falls unconscious. falls asleepy. honk shoe mimimi. im out now its like nearing 2 in the am #i sure hope this is comprehensible

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ceilidho · 2 months ago

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oohhh my good fig2 was dizzying. what a fic. what a fic. i've gone back to it thrice over already.

you have /such/ a grasp on the characters, especially when they're separated from their canon setting - i've read some fics where i tend to struggle to understand the characterisation beyond the military, but you just have it perfected; they're so startlingly human and it's gorgeous. the way little everyday things get mentioned (taxes, old trips together, school days) just make the scene so much more grounded and it's a credit to you as a writer

and the concept ahghhhh. people don't really look at gaz's youth and even though you do so so briefly in the fic, it's tantalising - the brief exploration of coming into his identity and the way it's hinted at that the reader is having the same struggle before that gets explicitly said later on is so so good; "both too old and too young for the torrent of emotion" gripped me by the neck and really set the grounds for the longing and (off-screen) slowburn that developed and i adoooore it

love the way you portray gaz and simon's friendship too - it's so underutilised by the fandom and, even though we'll get simon's entry when it's ready, you can already tell he's a fleshed out character. that's the charm in your writing, i can read and just Know there's a whole life behind each character, even if they're only there for a few paragraphs or to push the narrative along. you're so caring in the portrayal, of the comradery between two and the importance of their relationship, and it's so fantastic to read.

and uhghhhh the way every scene has its purpose. the slow buildup for the reader even though they're both (gaz & reader) yearning to get to the smut - the denial gaz goes through and how you write it, the whole section of the supply run and the park is just... wow. wow wow wow wow. i adore it. there's genuinely no way i can verbalise how much that section just gripped me in. the way reader reacts to gaz leaving, the way gaz rationalises not staying there until the heat is so intoxicating.

the smut itself toooooo oh lord. i really really am interested by the way you write omegaverse; it aligns with the most popular beliefs but you add your own spin too - the reader slowly succumbing to their heat was so well-written; "It happens gradually, your sentences slowly degenerating and fragmenting, and your eyes glazing over." dear god. chefs kiss. what a moment to imagine.

the smut. god. you always write it fantastically. i adore your voice when writing - how gaz 'snaps' and finally takes initiative with the reader but doesn't lose any of his charm or character, and sure the alpha part of him takes over but god. i don't know. i just adore the way you write gaz and everytime i get to read about him from you, i feel as though you've truly understood garrick down to his very being.

then the end, and reader can smell better after everything and it just shoots back to her earlier saying she can't properly smell - augh. chefs kiss. honestly.

loved loved loved it. loved fig1 but we'd be here even longer - your grasp of johnny not only as what is arguably a shameless pervert but as his own standing character around that is so refreshing but a treat to read. your johnny is one of my favourite johnnys, too.

this is long. i love your writing, whether it be for cod or original or some fandom i haven't the time to sink into, i read it and love it. you just embody the fiction in a way i cannot help but fall in love with. fantastic work as always, eagerly awaiting whatever else you put out xx

contemplated never even answering this so i could keep it in my inbox forever but wow this means so much to me. ily. thank you so much for taking the time to read my gaz fic and send this to me. makes all the hours i spent agonizing over word choices and sentences soooo worth it. i can't tell you how much i appreciate this, but just know i read this ask like forty times and it still warms my heart so much to reread it.

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ohdeerfully · 1 year ago

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Hello

I live

Well, barely

OMG ISTG I JUST REREAD LIKE ALL OF YOUR FICS I'M GOING SGSJDGDJHFJDY

Your writing. I swear. It's so good. Like when I read any other alastor x reader fic I have this nasty voice in the back of my head going 'He wouldn't do this'. THAT DOESN'T HAPPEN HERE

You are a genius. (Thabk you for speepy Alastor coming from an insomniac is good praise, no?)

My personal favourites are

a. Either of the sleepy Alastoe fics (obviously)

b. Dry bed. Istg the writing in that.. Augh

Could you do a part two to Dry bed? Maybe they just wake up (Together!!!) and awkwardly get their way down to breakfast. Then they simply avoid each other all day, not talking, but still stealing glances at each other when the other isn't looking. Then reader finds Alastor chilling on the hotel roof the following night and they TALK about it. And figure things out.

Omg thabk you for listening to my rant I hope you are doing well byeeee

~❤✨

P. S. You and your fics are my new hyperfixation

hello!!!!! in general sorry yall for my absence, finals are literally next week so it Will happen again

im so glad u like my depiction of alastor hes literally so annoying to write... a dry bed is honestly probably one of if not THE fave fic ive written (though might be a tie with mourning dove) so i hope part ii does it a bit of justice (,: i kind of deviated from ur request at the beginning (they dont wake up together >_<) but otherwise i hope u enjoy! hopefully its not too obvious i kind of rushed it

mwah! <3

A Warm Bed

(sequel to A Dry Bed)

Alastor x Reader (hurt/comfort, fluff) TW: none really, alastor is probs ooc but who cares

join my discord!

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It felt a little bit too cold when you woke up, but you couldn’t immediately find a reason why. Your eyes squinted open, facing the curtains that were drawn just enough to where a peek of the morning light rudely shone against your face. You turned over with a dissatisfied groan.

Peering at the empty bed beside you, you stared blankly as wheels began to turn in your mind. It only took a few seconds to remember the previous night, and your face quickly warned as you hissed in a breath through clenched teeth, wrists coming up and rubbing your eyes with a sense of dismay.

Man, what were you thinking. You felt a strong mixture of regret and embarrassment but also… you felt lonely. The strong, strange affection from Alastor the previous night directly compared to him disappearing and leaving you alone in the morning made you feel all the more cold. The room also had an uncomfortable silence to it, but at the same time too loud with the hum of your ceiling fan.

Whatever, you feigned indifference to yourself and lifted yourself from your mattress, legs dangling over the side of your bed for a few moments, allowing yourself to get a quick stretch in before sliding on some comfortable slippers while you went to your restroom, protecting your feet against the cold tile.

You quickly freshened up, pulling on some comfortable loungewear before leaving your hotel room and walking down the long corridor that led to the steps. Maybe it was just your current mood, but the ambience was too quiet and uncomfortable.

Your spirits slowly lifted as you made your way down the steps, and you could hear the faint clashing of kitchen tools being dropped and thrown, alongside unintelligible and arguing voices, one doubtlessly being Vaggie trying to tame—or, no, threaten—the chaos.

The air, at the very least, smelled good despite the racquet. Though you were in Hell, the food was still appetizing—even if you weren’t exactly sure what it was half the time.

You must’ve made it just in time, as right when you turned the corner you nearly hit your head against Charlie’s shoulder as she rounded the same corner. You tripped over each other for a moment before she ultimately steadied you with a hand and a breezy laugh.

"Good morning! I was just about to tell everyone breakfast was ready…” You smiled at her gesture. Every morning she tried to host some sort of typical continental style breakfast that was standard for most hotels—that is if Niffty’s behavior permitted a successful morning—and the quality was usually higher than what you remembered in your time alive. Of course, you were dealing with the Princess of Hell, who obviously wouldn’t want anything mediocre for her treasured guests.

“Thank you,” was all you could offer in return before she passed you, doubtlessly to gently announce the food to the other guests. There had been an increase in residents lately, so you weren’t shocked at the piles of delicious looking food that met your eyes when you stepped into the kitchen. You could practically imagine sparkles dancing around the fluffy pancakes and still sizzling pans of various breakfast meats.

You helped yourself to a meal, carefully stepping around the growing crowd of other guests, who all, for the most part, seemed a little aggravated at being woken up but nonetheless pleased at the free meal.

A brief hush filled the room as the air seemed to get just a bit heavier, more ominous, alongside the new presence of a prickling against your skin. You didn’t have to look up, nor did you even want to look up, to know who the culprit of such a suffocated atmosphere was; you knew him well enough.

The kitchen slowly came back to life, albeit a bit stiffer and with quieter conversation. You kept your eyes glued to your plate of food as you made your way towards the dining area. As you passed through the entrance, out of your peripheral you saw the large, looming figure of the demon you had become unnaturally attached to. You didn’t look up or even acknowledge him, pretending to just not notice, but you could swear you felt his red gaze burning a hole in your skin.

A few minutes passed after you sat down before Alastor joined you, sitting in his unofficial assigned seat. The only difference was he didn’t scoot his chair nearly as close as usual, as well as the way his body was turned just slightly so that his back was facing you. Not enough to be noticed by other people, but just enough for you—though, maybe you were just overanalyzing things?—to notice how he was pointedly uninviting you from any interactions with him.

Why even bother coming to breakfast, you thought coldly to yourself, deciding to just feel mad about it instead of stewing in your own self-hate and regret. You had already spent all morning feeling stupid for the night before. It’s not like you even eat this shit. Go eat a dead deer or something.

Your fork poked aggressively against the food on your plate, head propped up against a fist as you mindlessly scooted the food around in a pool of syrup. You hoped to convey some sense of hatred to the demon next to you as you jammed a fluffy bite of pancake into your mouth—oh, that’s so good, your spirits were lifted just a bit as the slightly sweet and buttery pancake touched your tongue.

A hand touched your back, and you jolted in surprise. Naturally your eyes first went to Alastor next to you, thinking maybe he was finally over himself, but he had his hands folded on the table in front of him as he watched another table argue over something probably meaningless. Maybe you’re crazy, but did you see his eyes flick to your just as you looked away? You shook off the idea.

Vaggie sat to your right, and was currently eyeing you with a hint of concern in her eye. You shrugged off her hand as politely as possible before smiling at her with a raised eyebrow, trying to play it off with an ‘I’m alright.’

“People that are ‘alright’ don’t usually have some personal vendetta against a plate of breakfast food,” She said in a low voice, trying to keep your conversation private, particularly from a certain set of prying, fluffy red ears. “You know you have friends here. Especially Charlie.”

“Really, I’m all good, just… long morning,” You did your best to wave away her worries again, suddenly feeling a little childish. From the way she spoke, you would think she was talking to someone going through something serious—you were just having some guy problems.

It seemed to work well enough, because after looking at you for a few more beats she raised her hand and turned away, picking up a conversation with her girlfriend. You sat in your spot for a few more minutes, but the growing anxiety from silently and awkwardly sitting next to Alastor, sifting through so many racing thoughts and doubts, gnawed at your stomach. You finally stood up and excused yourself with a thank you and left the room.

You had no specific place to be, so you just wandered into the lobby and slumped against a couch. You briefly wondered where Angel was; he was surprisingly good at listening to romantic troubles, though honestly you probably wouldn’t divulge your whole “thing” with Alastor. That would probably meet no welcomed response.

You must have dozed off, because the sudden sound of raised voices startled your eyes open. Arguments and general anger were commonplace here, so you weren’t particularly shocked to find Vaggie and Angel Dust going at it about something regarding his behavior and the Hotel—a recurring theme in their conversations. Vaggie’s words fell on deaf ears as Angel tutted at her words with a waving and dismissive hand.

“I’m sure ninety percent of these guests would love to have a piece’a me!” He said, taking long strides across the room as he fixed up his chest fluff with two hands. He leaned his hip against the large chair that, much to your dismay, sat Alastor, his grin tightening as Angel approached. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as the spider laid his torso across the head of the chair.

“Even this one…” Angel said with a pouty lilt in his voice, finger dragging up the embellishments as he tried to play flirty. Alastor clicked his tongue distastefully in response before he stood up, hands folding neatly across the top of his cane.

“Not quite to my taste, thank you!” He said, looking down at Angel with an ugly curl in his lip. Angel only huffed in response before slinking down the back of the chair and taking up the space where Alastor previously sat, leaving said demon just standing there.

Alastor’s eyes glanced at you, so brief that you honestly may have imagined it, before he simply hummed with closed eyes and melted into the ground, the shadow where he once stood inking across the carpet before finally coming to a rest… behind the couch where you were laying. You grimaced as you felt his presence manifest again, sending a ripple of that familiar prickle down your bare arms.

Was this going to be your eternity now? Playing some game of cat and mouse where you have to leave every room you’re in just because Alastor gets too close for comfort? You turned your head to try to get a look at him from the corner of your eye, but immediately looked away again when you saw he was already looking at you. You couldn’t read his expression.

You sat up and thought for a few moments. Honestly, it was probably best to just go spend a depression day alone in your room. As pushy as Alastor could be, he wasn’t typically the type to barge into rooms without invitation.

Slowly standing, you managed to avoid the attention of the couple of others in the room—though, realistically, none would care if they happened to see you leave; you were just on edge to everyone and everything. You quickly made your way up the stairs, frowning down at your feet as you walked. You shot a sideways glance at Alastor as you rounded a turn in the steps, finally meeting his gaze for a few seconds before your view was blocked by the wall.

You sighed as you found yourself in front of your hotel room, a heavy feeling making you suddenly choke up. You ushered yourself into the room before you embarrassed yourself by crying openly in the hallway, but the comforting solitude of your room as you leaned your back against the door to close it made it a bit easier to breathe.

After ensuring the door was locked, you went to stand at the edge of the bed, frowning down at the still unmade sheets. Thoughts of that tender night came to the front of your mind at full force, and you bit your lip anxiously. The warmth of his body against yours, the tangle of legs and soft touches of lips… was it all actually, in a cruel turn of reality, a fake expression of care from him? When you had finally begun to think you could read the affection on his face…

You settled into the soft mattress, uncomfortably aware of how big and cold it was. You were no stranger to sleeping alone by any means, but after finally experiencing the shared space with someone you loved, the contrast was stark and unwelcomed. You did your best to ignore it as you tucked yourself in, letting your eyes fall shut in a poor attempt to sleep away your worries.

Your attempts were unsuccessful, and an empty feeling of longing and despair in your stomach grew stronger with each hour that passed as you watched the red hue of the daylight sky turn darker. You felt both restless and tired at the same time, lacking any energy to actually do anything to pass the time.

It all proved to be counterintuitive to the whole “sleep your worries away” as the hours you spent just lying down only gave you ample opportunity to melt in your own thoughts as the memories of last night kept returning. Man, why did you have to kiss him? You unwittingly ignored the fact that he had also played a part in closing that gap between you; you were honestly just pinning the blame fully on yourself.

Finally sick of stewing in misery, you kicked off the heavy blanket and stood up. You needed some fresh air.

You tried to walk quickly with a fake sense of purpose so, in the odd chance you passed someone, they hopefully wouldn’t ask about your absence all day—you were typically more present and friendly with everybody as you would often help Charlie with event organization. Lucky enough for you, you passed nobody on your way to the door that opened to some stairs up to the roof of the Hotel.

After a quick pace up the echoey, metal steps, you pushed open the large doors and greeted with a pleasantly cool rush of wind. It was still warm, of course, being Hell and all, but cooler than usual. You quietly closed the heavy doors behind you.

There was a spot on the roof you typically sat at during long, restless nights, and you turned the corner of the door before promptly backtracking and pressing yourself up against the metal door once again, jaw clenched in a mix of shock and anger.

Why the Hell was Alastor on the roof at your spot with your blanket that you had left up here on some previous night? Was he doing all this on purpose? Constantly getting all too close to you while simultaneously acting cool and indifferent towards your existence? Was this all just some sick game to him? Well… it is Alastor.

You peeked over the edge from where you hid to get a better look at him. He sat serenely with his back towards you, legs hanging over the edge of the roof. You couldn’t see his expression, but his body waved just slightly, most likely to the tune of some song in his head. Despite all the frustration you felt in your soul towards him, looking at him under the blanket of a dark red sky with a sprinkling of stars… he still endeared you. Especially when he looked so harmless and relaxed.

Just as you were about to turn away again and find somewhere else to relax, he cleared his throat, stopping you before you could even move.

“It’s rude to stare,” He stated, projecting his voice just enough for you to hear the light humor in his voice. “You seem like a stalker, darling!”

You straightened your shoulders before walking out from behind the wall, a frown on your face. You didn’t walk any closer—God forbid you accidentally do anything to hurt your relationship anymore, if that was even possible.

“I didn’t mean to, I was just… surprised, that’s all,” You reasoned, tapping your foot impatiently. “You are kind of in my spot.”

He hummed, absently pointing at the surface around him. “I didn’t see your name on it.”

You couldn’t really think of a response quickly, so you just stayed quiet, continuing to just stand in place a few meters away from Alastor.

He briefly put his hand down on the space next to him, patting twice in a vague invitation for you to join him. You thought for a brief moment before cautiously walking towards him, steps growing slower with each foot you got closer. He made no move to send you away—in fact, he even started moving the blanket in a way to make the concrete just a bit more comfortable to sit on. He still didn’t look at you.

Embarrassingly your hands had started to shake, which you realized when you reached your hand down to support your body as you lowered it to sit. You just hoped Alastor didn’t notice. You let your legs fall over the ledge, swinging slightly next to Alastor’s. You didn’t notice how he shifted his knee a bit closer to yours.

The two of you sat in silence under the still-darkening sky, and you couldn’t decide if it was a comfortable or awkward silence. Alastor didn’t seem to mind, so you tried to convince yourself it was comfortable despite the itching anxiety in your chest.

“I’m really sorry about last night,” You blurted out, unable to contain it anymore. Was it a bad idea to even bring it up? Maybe. But you felt that your relationship was already irreparably damaged so it couldn’t hurt to at least apologize. You saw his eyes turn towards you out of your peripheral, and you were too ashamed to meet his look, instead opting to fiddle with a fray of the blanket edge.

“Whatever for?” He responded after an uncomfortably long pause—this stunned you. Fuck you mean ‘whatever for?’ Your head whipped up to look at him, brows furrowed.

You had spent all die scared that you ruined everything between you and Alastor, regretting everything that led up to last night’s events—it didn’t help that Alastor himself was also blatantly avoiding you. What the fuck is he acting so confused for?

Apparently you said that all out loud, as Alastor’s smile was growing more and more strained with each loud word that tumbled from your lips. You didn’t even realize until you were done and catching your breath, but at this point you couldn’t care less to apologize or feel bad about it. You folded your arms and fixated your eyes on some random pedestrian below as another long stretch of silence filled the air.

“You confuse me,” He finally said, with a voice that lacked its usual radio tone. You didn’t respond, so he continued. “I feel these alien emotions when I’m near you—you bewitch me. And I don’t like it. I hate you for it.”

You couldn’t control the slight slump in your shoulders and the sharp pang in your stomach that his words brought you. Hate.

“But… I kill the demons I hate,” He said, looking away from you and up at the sky. “And I can’t find myself wanting to kill you. That has to mean something, though I’m really no man to figure it out myself.”

You cautiously returned your eyes back to him, shoulders curled forward as if to protect yourself against the blow of any harsh words. But, as he spoke, you felt that anxiety slowly lighten as you pieced together what he was trying to convey in his own strange way. Although, you weren’t really sure what to say in response, filled with too many swarming emotions—both new and old.

Suddenly you looked at the space between the two of you—was Alastor’s hand there just a minute ago? You looked up to try to get any hint of his goals; but, unsurprisingly, he remained unreadable. It was definitely safer to just ignore it.

Well, that got a lot harder when his pinkie finger stretched towards you just a bit, practically inviting you. You looked at his face one more time, swallowed your fear, and tenderly laid your hand down next to his. You moved it cautiously closer, just enough so that your pinkie touched his own. His lifted up and curled over yours, tightening in a way to bring the rest of your hand closer and enveloping it with his own. Your gaze was fixated on this exchange and you felt heat warm your cheeks and ears.

You both said nothing, but you thought the pounding in your ears would drown out any attempt.

Your attention finally broke from the hands that now clasped together between the two of you, turning up towards Alastor. You found that he had been looking at you with such an intensity it made you feel like an open book before him. His eyes had a slight glow to them now that the sky had fully darkened—eyes that were usually so malicious and secretive seemed to now burn with what you could only assume was affection.

“I can’t promise I’ll be a good man,” He finally broke the silence. His smile was small but strained, and his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

In response you shook your head with a breathless laugh, tightening your hand just slightly around his as you focused on the street below, watching the scattered presence of night owl demons.

“I probably couldn’t promise the same, either,” You admitted, leaning back and stretching out your legs in the open air over the ledge of the roof. You froze momentarily when Alastor shifted a bit closer, his knee now barely knocking against yours.

He reached his hand out, fingers curling gingerly but firm over your chin and pulling your face closer to his. He examined your face for a moment, red eyes trailing over every curve of your features before settling back to look into your eyes.

“But I can promise, cher,” The new name he referred to you as made the already present flush in your cheeks only intensify. “That as long as you own what’s left of my heart, no demon in Hell can keep you away from me. Not even you.”

His words were spoken almost like a threat in an ominously low tone, that heavy radio affliction dripping from his words. In his eyes was a sudden look of sinister intensity and devotion, something you had never even dreamed of seeing, especially from him and especially towards you. As menacing as the words seemed, you couldn’t stop the wry smirk that inched up your lips, slightly smushed between his fingers that still firmly held your head in place.

“I’d like to see anyone try,” You responded in an attempt to match his energy. This seemed good enough for him, as his smile lifted for a moment as he released you from his grasp and faced forward again.

You yawned and stretched out your arms above your head, popping a few bones in your back before you stood. He followed suit, deftly touching his clothes with one hand to smooth any wrinkles or crooked buttons—his other was still holding your own.

He stepped closer, nearly pressed against you, when suddenly the atmosphere around you seemed to melt in a swirl of black before being replaced with the familiar decor of your hotel room. He gave you a light nudge and you fell back onto the bed.

After recuperating and settling, you watched him from your spot on the bed as he draped off his coat and slacks before joining you in the sheets. His body language was tense and unsure, but to your own pleasure the stiffness in his shoulders lightened just a bit when your hands tenderly rubbed against his skin.

The bed that was only hours before too big and too cold was now inviting with the warmth of Alastor’s body against your own, his scent filling your nose with every inhale as his hair brushed against your cheek. Every movement was a shaky blur as you were still filled with a sense of disbelief and maybe a little bit of adrenaline from the unexpected switch-up from him. The mattress dipped and creaked as he tried to make himself comfortable, which took an awkward few seconds, but after finally settling in you found yourself laid against his chest, fingers trailing down his skin.

Alastor’s own clawed fingers trailed through your hair and he hummed the quietest tune, lulling you further into an exhaustion that you didn’t realize had been creeping up on you. You fell asleep to a comfort that you hoped you wouldn’t have to spend another day in eternity without.

#ohdeerfully #❤✨#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #fluff #alastor x you #hurt/comfort #alastor fluff #not proofread #like usual #el oh el

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