#drabble status: FAILED

[lunasfics]

Found Family

summary: In which Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent engage in a custody battle over a clone created from both their DNA, or, in which you get saved from a lab and gain two new families who would move mountains for you.

pairing: Bat Family x f! Reader, Supers x f! Reader

word count: 8.2k

preview

a/n: hello! IT'S FINALLY OUT WOOHOO, it's a bit long but i had a lot of fun writing it. certain characters may be a bit ooc so i do apologize as i'm still getting my footing on how to characterize certain people. let me know what you think! constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated (just pls don't be mean lol)! i left a somewhat open-ish ending because i wanna make this into a series/universe, and will start taking requests for drabbles in this universe, depending on how this is received! - luna :)

reblogs are appreciated!

“I’m in. Robin, what’s your status?” Bruce spoke into the earpiece, swiftly moving through the shadows of the lab. It was a simple mission: get into the lab Lex Luthor had created under Gotham City, collect intel needed to take down said lab, and leave. Unfortunately, it’s never really that simple, is it? 

“I’m in, making my way through the west wing, cover is still intact,” Damian muttered back. 

“Good. Nightwing?” 

“Just entered the center lab, heading down to the bottom level now, haven't been spotted,” Dick said, making his way down the steps, careful to remain silent. 

“Good. Remember the objective. In and Out.” Bruce muttered as he continued, searching for the locked file cabinet he was looking for. 

“Files located. Ready for extraction” Damian said quietly through the intercom. 

“I’ve made it to the bottom level. Requesting immediate backup, there's something here you guys need to see” Dick’s voice echoed through the earpiece, “They’ve made another clone.” 

Bruce stopped what he was doing, silently making his way down the hall towards the staircase Dick took around a half hour before, “I'm on my way. Damian?”

“Heading there now. Files are downloaded.” 

Upon arriving at the lower level, Dick bypasses security to let them in, making sure to reactivate the lock behind them, “Look.”

He gestured to the incubation tube not far from them, inside of it stood a young woman, who looked no older than 20, wearing a black skin-tight suit, a familiar “S” symbol adorning her chest, only it was the center of another symbol, the bat symbol, with bat ears at the top and bat wings on either side of it, a dark burgundy color with gold lining along the edges. The plaque below the tube read: 

Attempt 1: G6B24 

Specimen 1: Superman (Identity: Unknown)

Specimen 2: Batman (Identity: Unknown) 

Status: Failed - Shows excessive signs of emotional intelligence (unfit for purpose), Subject is not invulnerable, Lacks thermal vision

‘Emotional Intelligence’ you must have shown hesitation, a moral compass. 

“Father… what are we going to do?” Damian asked, he was at a loss, part of him felt slightly threatened, if you were taken in, he would no longer be the only child related to Bruce by DNA, and you were older, stronger— perhaps you would take his place, the place he’d finally felt he truly belonged; however he remained silent, his past self likely would have attempted to argue against your rescue, but he’d grown, he knew deep down you deserved a chance at this life just as much as he did. 

Bruce looked up at your unconscious figure, at a loss for words, you were his daughter, intentional or not, there was a part of him in you, he only hoped that part wouldn't screw you over for life. As surprised as he was, he had an obligation to you the same way he did with Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Barbara, Duke, Damian, and every other vigilante he had taken under his wing.

His Batman instincts kicked in very quickly though, immediately refocusing himself, reading through the files, in an attempt to prepare himself for any possible scenario, he turned to Dick. 

“Find all the DNA samples they have belonging to both me and Superman, we’re taking them,” he said, making sure to not hyper-focus on the thoughts flooding his mind. 

“We’re not just leaving her here, are we? The plaque says ‘failed’. Who knows what could happen to her?” Dick said, he was frustrated.

Conner had gotten a chance to build a life for himself. You deserved one too, the mere thought of Bruce wanting to leave you there angered him. 

“She’s coming with us. Damian, watch the door, Dick, find the samples," Bruce said gruffly, moving to the tube, bypassing the database to open it, without setting off any system safeguards. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out his shard of kryptonite, just in case it was needed to neutralize you. 

The tube opened slowly, a swoosh sound filling the air as the cold fog escaped the tube, spilling into the air, your eyes fluttering open as you looked around, your eyes focusing on him.

You flew at him, full speed, pushing him against the wall with a thud, knocking the wind out of him, your eyes boring into his, glowing red, just as you were about to terminate him with your heat vision, he uttered the safe word he had seen in your file. 

“Blue Pineapple” he grunted out, the red in your eyes fading away instantly, as you stared at him with wide eyes. You backed away slowly, lowering yourself to the floor. Your eyes fixed on him once again.

You recognized him from your programming, the man whose combat skills were engraved into your mind.

“Batman?” 

Dick and Damian rushed over, making sure Bruce was okay. He was fine.

Dick turned to you, holding out his hand, “Come with me. We need to get you out of here, you aren’t safe here.” 

You stared at him, your eyes narrowing, “Why should I trust you?” 

Dick sighed, Those damn Wayne genetics, he kept his hand extended to you, “Because we’re helping you escape, if you come with us, you can meet Superman, be a hero just like him and Batman, you could actually see the world” he promised. 

"I know what the world looks like." you stated bluntly.

He sighed, his hand not wavering, "But have you ever experienced it? Let us show you what that's like. You can have a life."

You thought for a moment, before letting out a small grunt, nodding at him and taking his hand, allowing them to lead you out of the lab grounds seemingly undetected. 

When you stepped out, you stopped, eyes completely transfixed on the brilliant night sky. Blends of blues and purples and grays danced together to make the beautiful endless abyss above you. You knew every color there was. You knew everything, but at the same time you really didn't. You stared up at the stars, you knew how they came to be, you knew every scientific explanation there was yet seeing them… it made you feel a way you couldn’t explain.

They led you to the batmobile, situating you in the back seat with Damian, starting the drive to the Batcave. Bruce dialed Clark’s number into the keypad, it rang twice before he picked up. 

“Hello?” 

“Meet me in the Batcave. It’s urgent. Bring Conner.”

“What’s going o-”

He hung up. 

Dick covered his mouth to hide his snicker, “So, Bruce, you and Clark have an official love child now, right? What will Lois think?” he feigned concern, placing the back of his hand over his forehead, committing to the drama, “Oh, how scandalous, I mean really, the shame! I can already see the headlines ‘Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne turned common whore after breaking up happy metropolis family’” 

Damian covered his laugh with a cough.

You looked at the three of them, utterly confused, still processing what was going on. 

Bruce huffed, shooting them both a glare, “Dick, be mature.” 

Dick smiled, “I can't help myself, just wait til Jason finds out.” He smiled in excitement, as they pulled into the side entrance of the Batcave. 

Bruce let out a deep, tired sigh.

Clark sat in silence in the Batcave, Conner standing to his left, his eyes wide as he stared at you, possessing some features belonging to both he and Bruce, and other features that seemed to be entirely your own.

You stared back, that same stoic nature radiating off of you that radiates off the Batman, however, he noted the defensive look in your eyes, one so similar to the one he saw in Conner when he first met him. He eyed your suit, noting the familiar “S” symbol, only it was a burgundy color, a rather interesting combination of the Batman and Superman emblems, and he was utterly confused.

He looked over at Bruce, still in his bat suit, his cowl pulled off, “Bruce, what the hell is going on?” 

“I had to call you here because Luthor decided to create another clone. I did the DNA test, Clark, she’s a combination of both our DNA” Bruce looked at him, Dick and Damian standing to his right. It was silent for a moment, you felt like a guinea pig, the way they all stared at you. It made you angry. 

Conner was the first to speak, stepping forward before opening his mouth, choosing his words carefully, “What’s your name?” 

You responded immediately, it felt automatic. “Experiment attempt number one. Code G6B24. I was made to be the future killer of the Batman and the Kriptonian.” 

He nodded slowly, “I’m a clone too, and Clark took me in— well, he took me in eventually— that’s besides the point. He showed me how to become my own person, we can help you do that too.”

You looked at him, eyes softening ever so slightly, but you kept your guard up like your Batman programming taught you to. “I was made to be a killer, if I don’t do what I was made to do, what am I worth?” you said quietly, voice unwavering.

Damian watched you, your words striking him in a way he hadn't expected them to, he understood what you were saying all too well. 

Bruce decided to speak up next, “You were created, it’s not your fault what their intentions were when they did so. What you become from here on out is your choice.” 

You stayed silent, eyes darting around the room—What is this feeling? Vulnerability? You knew it by definition, like you did most other feelings, but feeling them… it was different. 

Dick noted the way you seemed overwhelmed, he approached you slowly, pulling up two chairs, motioning for you to sit, you chose to remain standing until he sat down first. 

“You know, we trust you, we want to figure out a way for you to become the best you can be. On your terms” he said, offering you a small smile. 

You looked around, the others nodded in agreement, “I was made to be only the best parts of you” you said, your gaze focusing on Clark and Bruce, they both put their best qualities forward to help others, how could you use those same qualities to destroy that?

“I… don’t want to be a killer. They said I was too… human. I thought I’d failed them.” 

Damian decided to step forward, “You didn’t fail anyone, you are meant for greater things. You haven't killed anyone, you can choose your path. If the path you choose is the Robin mantle... I am willing to work with that.” 

At this, the other men in the room turned to look at him, Clark and Conner were slack-jawed, this was the same kid who fought Tim tooth and nail over this mantle. The same mantle he was just… willing to give you? 

Meanwhile Dick had a proud smile on his face, you thought you saw a small tear in his eye.

Bruce’s face seemed unreadable, however, you took notice of the way the corners of his lips turned up for a split second. before reverting back to their natural state. 

You weren’t sure what to say, again, you knew what this mantle was, by definition. The reality was you had no sense of what it meant, the weight it carried. And you knew that.

“Thank you, but I feel like that title isn’t mine to take. I think I need to… become something that's true to who I am, whatever that may be.”  

Bruce looked at you, the corner of his lip barely twitching up into a smile, a smile so subtle that only someone of your… background would notice, an attempt of his towards getting you more comfortable, “We should start with a name.” 

You looked at Conner, he gave you an encouraging smile. 

“Like I chose Conner, so now I’m Conner Kent,” he said with a small shrug, “You can choose whatever you want.” 

“I see,” you thought for a moment, “I like Y/n.” 

Clark smiled, standing up and clapping his hands together, “Great! Y/n Kent, has a nice ring to it.” 

“Wayne.” 

He turned towards Bruce, eyes narrowing slightly, “Kent.”

“Wayne.”

This time Conner spoke, “Kent.”

The three men stared at each other, arms crossed mirroring each-other’s glares. 

Dick cut in, “How about Grayson?”

“No.” came their simultaneous response. 

Dick frowned, slumping in the seat next to yours, “Jeez.” 

Damian spoke next, “I suppose Al Ghul is off the table…” 

Dick snorted, breaking out into a fit of laughter, you grinned softly at the sounds of his laughter, it reminded you of a windshield wiper. 

Conner sighed, “Fine, what about Wayne-Kent?”

Bruce huffed, “I suppose.”

Clark nodded, the smile returning to his face as he turned to you, “Y/n Wayne-Kent”

You nodded, “I like it.” 

Dick could help but laugh from beside you, “It's like I'm watching reality tv. Love me some baby mama drama.”

Clark opened his mouth to speak and closed it, before sighing and looking at Bruce, who just pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Conner chuckled at the sight, turning to Damian, who’s lip quirked up in amusement. 

Bruce looked up, his attention directed towards you, “Y/n, you can stay here for the night, I’ve asked Alfred to set up a room for you. Clark, Conner, come by tomorrow with Lois and Jon, I’ve called the others to come by as well, we’ll get everything situated tomorrow. For now, get some rest.” 

Everyone nodded, Clark and Conner heading to the exit of the cave, Damian, Dick and Bruce leading you to the room that was prepared for you. 

Dick brought you a sweater and some sweatpants to change into, closing the door with a soft, “Goodnight, kiddo.” 

You changed in silence, slowly getting under the covers and drifting off to sleep, marking the start of your new life. Tomorrow would be an interesting day. 

You woke up the next morning, to a soft knock on the door, your super hearing picking it up better than you would have liked. You opened the door, revealing an older man you hadn’t seen before. He smiled softly, giving you an instantaneous sense of comfort you couldn’t explain. 

“Hello Miss Y/n. My name is Alfred, I am the butler,” he greeted you, handing you a folded set of clothes, “Master Kent chose these for you, however if they are not to your liking, do let me know.” 

“They’re fine…Thank you.”

He smiled warmly, the kind old man giving you a nod, “Once you've changed, do come down, I’ve prepared breakfast. The other members of the family will arrive soon to meet you.” 

You gave him a short nod, he smiled again, your demeanor reminding him of the young Bruce he’d looked after all those years ago. He shut your door softly before retreating down the staircase, leaving you in your room to change. 

You picked up the small note that rested at the top of the pile, reading it over. 

Comfortable, Practical, and cool. Hope you like it. - Conner

You looked down at the neatly folded clothes, unfolding a black long sleeve turtleneck shirt, the material was thick but breathable, you slipped it on with ease, the foreign material soft against your skin, you appreciated that it didn’t suffocate you. 

You reached for the pants next, dark gray cargo pants, these were thicker, and the had an overwhelming amount of pockets. You slipped them on before slipping on the boots that were at the bottom of the stack and exiting the room, going down the staircase. 

Upon entering the dining room, you were met with Bruce sitting at the head of the table, reading the paper calmly eating his pancakes, to his right sat Dick chatting excitedly to the boy next to him, who smiled at him as he listened, he was a slender boy with black hair who looked a bit younger than Dick. Then there was Alred, calmly enjoying his breakfast. Finally there was Damian on the other side of Bruce, leaving an empty seat between Damian and Alred. You sat down, the pale boy noticing you first. 

Bruce looked up, “Tim, this is Y/n.” 

“Hello.” You sat up awkwardly. One thing you never learned was how to navigate social interactions.

He studied you for a moment, offering you a small smile, “I’m Tim.” 

You gave a nod, returning his smile with a smaller one of your own. 

“She knows, by the way.” Dick chimed in.

His eyes widened, was that why you were there? 

“How?” 

All eyes are on you. You opened your mouth to speak but Damian spoke first. 

“She’s a clone. Father will explain everything when everyone else arrives so as to not waste time, until then, hold on to your childish curiosity. I’d like to enjoy my breakfast.” 

Dick nodded, “She was literally made for this shit.”

“Watch your language Master Dick, it is deplorable to speak in such a way at the table, much less in the presence of a lady.” 

Dick blushed, “Sorry Alfred.” 

Bruce simply gave a nod. 

Tim slumped back in his seat, wanting to ask you questions about your abilities, your earliest memories, who were you a clone of, how your programming worked, the boy was itching to know it all. 

Breakfast passed by relatively quickly after that, you weren’t bombarded with questions, much to your relief. Alfred kindly asked you how you slept to which you replied that you slept well. The sound of casual conversation and glassware scraping together filling the room. You enjoyed observing the atmosphere.

Clark and Conner were the first to arrive at the manor, greeting you happily, with them was a woman and a younger boy, who immediately went to sit by Damian. 

Clark brought them over to you, the woman smiled warmly at you. It made you feel safe. 

She held your hand in hers, “My name is Lois,” her voice was kind, genuine. You noted how she carried herself. Strong, secure, honest. 

Clark was quick to bring Jon over, excited to introduce him, “This is my son, Jon.”

“Hi!”  he beamed at you, you smiled, he was cute. Cheerful as he smiled brightly at you. 

“Hello, my name is Y/n.” you greeted the two, who smiled at you.

Conner was the next to approach, “Did you like the clothes? I picked them out cause it was all I used to wear, but who knows, you may want something more… fashionable.”

You smiled softly, “They're nice, thank you.”

“On that note actually,” Clark said, “I was thinking we can take you shopping later, Bruce and I can pay.” 

Bruce deadpanned, “That’s a joke, right?” 

He smiled, “Of course, you’re paying for everything.”

“Sounds about right.” 

Chatter filled the room not long after, Jon and Damian catching up on the couch while Conner and Tim started a conversation of their own. 

The next people to arrive were three young women, blonde, brunette, and red hair. They had arrived together.

The blonde spoke first, “Why'd you call us here Bruce? We had planned for brunch.” She bitterly narrowed her eyes at him, the brunette behind her giving a short nod of agreement.

Bruce sighed, “We’re waiting on Jason. He’s late.” 

“As always.” The redhead said with a sigh, though you could see she wasn't actually upset.  

The blonde girl turned to you first smiling, “I’m Stephanie, but call me Steph. I’m assuming you’ll be joining our vigilante posse.” She seemed funny, and kind, like she truly cared for those around her. 

“Somewhat, I don’t really know. I’m Y/n.” You said bluntly.

“Pretty name.” She smiled, gesturing to the red haired woman behind her, “This is Barbara, but she's really just Babs.” She then gestured to the brunette, “That’s Cass. She’s lovely.” 

You looked at them and nodded, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Barbara smiled warmly at you, “You too, I’m so glad there’ll be another girl around, we can always use more company.” She smiled at you so kindly, despite having only just met you. Her voice was sweet, like honey. 

Cass smiled softly at you, “Come to brunch with us later. Or, lunch, now since Jason is holding us up.” 

You nodded your lip quirking up into a small smile, “I’d enjoy that.” 

Truthfully, you didn't know what the fuck brunch was. But she said lunch and that you knew. You'd find out about brunch later.

Then, as if on cue, the man in question arrived, walking through the door, slipping off his brown jacket and tossing it on the couch. He was tall, with a stocky frame, jet black hair with a white streak on the front. 

“This better be good.” 

Tim mumbled, “Finally” 

“Miss me Timmy?” 

“Quite the contrary.”

The one called Jason laughed before giving him a small nudge, to which Tim swatted his hand away. 

His eyes fixed on you, then on Bruce. 

“Dude, seriously? Another one? You have a problem man. You’d think you would’ve stopped after me.” 

Bruce stood up, “Jason, sit down. Now that you’re all here I wanted to introduce you to Y/n. She’s a clone, made from both mine, and Clark’s DNA.” 

“Holy shit, man.” 

“Jason, will you shut up?” 

“Never.” 

“As I was saying, she’ll be here in the manor for the time being, I’ll be training her and assessing her combat technique.” 

“Hold on,” Clark interjected, “She should come with us, she needs to get the hang of her powers.” 

“Clark, I have a state of the art training area in the cave.” 

“So? We’re supers, all we need is an open field.” 

“We need to assess her combat skills, and also assess the extent of her powers. She isn’t invulnerable. We need to prioritize getting to the bottom of that.” 

Clark huffed but nodded, understanding the full extent of your abilities was vital in actually training you. 

“It’s like I’m watching a custody battle.” muttered Steph, Barbara laughing quietly beside her. 

“Wait- So Y/n is basically if you and Clark had a baby?” Tim gawked at them, his eyes shifting from Bruce to Clark, to you. When his eyes landed on you, he fired questions like he was on a time limit. 

“How do Bruce’s genetics affect your abilities? Are you immune to kryptonite and invulnerable? How does your thermal vision work? Enhanced strength? Can you fly? Can you fly as fast as Superman? Do you have combat training? How do y-” 

Conner smacked a hand over his mouth, leading him back to his seat, “Lets try not to overwhelm her with the questions.” He chuckled. 

Tim nodded, looking up at you, “Sorry, Y/n.” 

“That’s okay. To answer your questions, his genetics don’t necessarily have a huge impact on any of my abilities, I was created with every available video of Batman fighting embedded into my mind, and the combat skills were engraved in my memory, I should be able to replicate his fighting style to a tee. I’m not invulnerable, but in theory, the stealth I was programmed with allows me to stay agile enough that I shouldn’t often get hurt. I don't have thermal vision, but I do have laser vision, enhanced strength, and flight, although I haven’t tested how fast I actually can fly. And like I said, my combat training is essentially the combat footage uploaded into my mind.” 

Tim had nodded, eyes trained on yours in complete interest as you answered each question, occasionally jotting something down on the notes app of his phone. 

Lois narrowed her eyes slightly at both Bruce and Clark, “I do hope you’re factoring in giving her the opportunity to build an actual social life. Maybe get her enrolled in school.” 

“She has doctorate-level information on several different topics stored into her mind, as well as fluency in 8 languages. I think she’ll be fine, Lois,” Bruce replied. 

She rolled her eyes, “Okay, so school’s not necessary, what about building a social life for herself? That’s important.” 

“There’s Young Justice,” Conner said, “I figured she’d join.” 

Tim nodded in agreement, “I can help her get situated.” 

“Where will I stay?” you asked, you didn’t particularly enjoy how they were all discussing you as if you weren't there, but there honestly wasn’t much you could do. 

“You can stay at the manor, or you can stay with the team, but it'd be best if you lived here in the Manor.” Bruce replied.

“Why isn’t Metropolis an option?” Clark muttered. 

“Because it’s more practical to have her here in Gotham, living with Tim will make it easier to adjust to the team.” 

“I want time with her, Bruce.” 

“You’ll get it. We’ll have her assessed, then three times a week she’ll train and get a hold of her powers with you.” 

Clark nodded, satisfied with that answer. 

Lois spoke again, turning to you, “Y/n, how does that sound to you?” 

You blinked. “It sounds fine. My super hearing allows me to hear every conversation proficiently.”

She chuckled softly, “It’s a figure of speech sweetheart, I meant if you’re okay with everything that was said, you’ve been a bit quiet.”

You felt your face grow hot, “Oh. Yeah, I’m okay with it.”

Clark gave you a fond smile. 

Bruce looked at you and smiled softly, a barely noticeable one, but a smile nonetheless. 

The bulk of the conversation was over. The people in the room falling into easy conversation with one another, you look around, not sure what to do. That is until Jason approaches you, a kind smile on his face. 

“Hey Y/n, I’m Jason, I’ll be honest, you probably won't see me too often cause I can barely stand being around Bruce, but… if he’s ever a dick, call me and I’ll either punch him for you and take you somewhere he’s not.” he grinned, “Or both.” 

You laughed softly, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He nodded, “I’ll be raiding the kitchen, but if anyone asks, I left.” He shoots you a grin before slipping away. 

It’s not long after that when Jon approaches you, Damian by his side, he shoots you a toothy grin, “So, you’re like, my sister now, right?” 

You’re not sure how to respond, but you feel a puddle of warmth pooling in your heart, it’s nice. You smile at him softly, “I suppose so.” 

He grins, “And that would also make you Damian’s sister. right?”

“I suppose so.” 

“See Damian, we’re blood brothers by extension.” 

“Jon, that is the most imbecilic logic I’ve ever encountered. Just because Y/n is both my blood and yours doesn’t mean–” 

“Blood brothers!” He had shouted cheerfully, before walking away and over to Lois to inform her of the good news. 

Damian sighed, though you took notice of the soft smile that flashed across his face, you concluded that he cared for him. 

A lot of people in this family– Bruce’s family specifically, tend to hide affection, despite the fact that it is apparent to you that they feel it. You decide not to focus on it, people are complicated. 

You chat a bit with various people in the room, Lois telling you that you’re always welcome to visit whenever you’d like, Barbara talking to you about how her work as Oracle, Steph telling you all about the other vigilantes you’ll probably end up crossing paths with. Tim and Conner sat by you, telling you all about the team and the people you’ll meet once all your training is done. 

Slowly, people start to leave, you saw Jason slip out the front door first, sending you a wink. Dick left not long after, needing to return to his responsibilities in Bludhaven, making sure to tell you you’re always welcome to visit him over there. Then Clark left with Lois, Jon, and Conner, leaving the residents of the manor plus, Cass, Steph and Barbara.

Damian and Tim had retreated to their rooms, while Alfred busied himself with household chores, Bruce stood up, approaching you before saying, “Did you still want to go shopping? You’ll need training clothes.” 

You nodded, “Yes, please.” 

Steph perked up, rushing towards the two of you, “Oh, we have to come.” 

“Steph, you go shopping every week. With my card.”

Barbara chimed in, “It’s not about that Bruce, you have a terrible fashion sense. We can’t let you impose that onto Y/n.”

Cass nodded in agreement. 

“We’re just buying training clothes.” 

“She can’t wear training clothes in her daily life,” Steph rolled her eyes, “She needs a wardrobe.” 

You smiled, “I would like a wardrobe.” 

“See?”

Bruce sighed but nodded, “Let's go then.”

Steph cheered while Barbara and Cass high-fived behind her, it was an amusing site. 

When you arrived at the mall, Steph immediately linked arms with you, dragging you around to her favorite stores, paying no mind to your super strength potentially being able to accidentally break her arm. It caught you off guard, not only the physical display of affection, but the trust.

Again, you felt that soft puddle of warmth pool in your chest. You could get used to that. 

You had gotten to know Barbara and Cass fairly well during the trip as well, Barbara was sweet, she and Steph made you laugh more than you thought you could. Cass and you got along well too, she picked out the clothes you liked the most, always nodding in approval when you would try anything on, a soft smile on her face. The three of them opened their group up to you so quickly, it had surprised you, you felt that with their company you were better able to navigate finding yourself. 

The four of you hadn’t paid much mind to Bruce trailing behind you as you went from store to store, not that he minded. He held a fond smile as he observed the four of you giggling, talking, and having a good time.

He knew his focus on training was important, but he also knew Lois was right (not that he’d admit that to anyone), you needed a social life too. And he knew your heightened emotional intelligence would surely allow you to obtain that, you just needed to blossom, and allow yourself to break free of the restraints you put on yourself. 

He’d lost count of how many times he had swiped his card that day, at some point he had decided to just start waiting by the front, once you guys were ready, he’d walk over, swipe his card, and you guys would move on to the next shop. He wouldn't say this to anyone, but he enjoyed doing things like this, taking care of the people he cares about. 

The last store you had gone to was WayneTech, it was Bruce’s idea. You needed a phone in order to keep everyone’s contacts. So they brought you there where you got the latest model of their cell phone line, it was sleek and thin. You picked out a case and you got a screen protector. Bruce had told you that once you got to the Batcave he’d input league contacts, safety features, as well as league-level security settings. 

By the end of the trip it was early in the evening, Bruce had his arms absolutely filled with shopping bags, and what he couldn’t carry was carried by you and Steph. The five of you stepped out into the parking lot, the sun setting, casting a deep orange hue on the parking lot. You took in the image in front of you, you didn’t know suns could set so beautifully.

The ride home was nice, the car was filled with the soft chatter of the four of you, Bruce didn’t feel the need to listen in. The soft music playing on the stereo as a background was a nice addition to the atmosphere. 

When you’d arrived at the manor, the girls had bid you goodbye, but not before making sure they had your number to add you to their group chat. You were warned by Steph that Cass’s meme game could not be beat. You were slightly confused but nodded, a happy smile on your face. They each gave you a hug before getting in their cars and heading off. 

The walk into the manor was silent, but not awkward, mainly the two of you taking armfuls of bags up to your room.

As he shut the door, Bruce turned to you, “It’s not too late, if you want, we could start out on some training.” 

You nodded, going into your room to change, “I’ll be down there in a bit.” 

He nodded, walking away to change as well. 

You entered the Batcave shortly after, comfortable in your black sweatpants, and a black long sleeve athletic shirt. Now, having a better opportunity to take it all in, it was massive. You looked to your left to see Damian sparring with Tim in one of the further training areas. You walked over to Bruce, he gave you a small smile, leading you to the second training area by Tim and Damian, who by now had stopped sparring, in favor of observing your skill. 

“You can replicate my fighting style to a tee, right?”

You nodded.

“Let’s see it.” 

You charged first, making sure to suppress your strength, your movements swift and calculated, landing a fast right kick to his abdomen. He sidestepped, landing a swift punch to your side. You kept attempting attacks on eachother, each one dodging the other flawlessly.

Tim and Damian watched in awe as the two of you gracefully moved, as if you were dancing. This went on for several minutes, until you attempted a fast left kick to his side, which he caught, using as leverage to flip you over on your back.

Your limbs ached, you looked up at him, “How did you do that?”

He held a hand out to help you up, “I’m not as fast with my left kicks as I am with my right ones. My weaknesses are your weaknesses.”

You nodded. Made sense. 

“You have good technique, and you replicate my fighting perfectly, but that’s all it is. A replication. You need to make it your own. Adapt it in accordance with your abilities, you can’t do that now because Clark hasn’t trained you, but in time you will.” 

You nodded, your chest swelling with pride at his compliment, you knew after your training with Clark you would be able to better adjust your fighting style.

Damian walked over to you, “Y/n. I’d like to spar, you’ve proven to be a worthy opponent.” 

You nodded, it would be good to spar with someone with a different fighting style. Tim sat down to the side, perfectly content with just observing for now, like earlier, he occasionally jotted down some notes on his phone. You decided you didn’t mind it. It was endearing. 

This time, Damian charged first, landing a swift right kick to your ribs, you turned and landed a hard kick to his chest, sending him back, before he flipped and caught himself, running towards you again. His smaller frame provided him with an advantage as he jumped onto your shoulders, before he could land his blow, you flipped your body, sending him to the floor, landing on his back with a thud. You crouched over him, extending your hand.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” he took your hand, getting up to his feet, you gave him a soft smile, which he returned, giving you a nod of approval. He, like Bruce, didn’t often use his words, but you were able to discern their intentions just fine. 

Bruce then led you to a machine he had in the cave, where it analyzed your genetics in comparison to Clark’s, he had determined you were missing the genetic composition that happened to be the main source of invulnerability, therefore the reason you were the way you were. You are unfortunately still weak when exposed to kryptonite. 

You were tired by the end of the night. You felt you had bonded with Damian, he had asked you to spar with him another time, to which you agreed.

The next day, Bruce had sent you over to Smallville, where Clark had decided on training you, ‘A good old fashioned open field’ were his exact words.

He made sure to send you wearing your original suit, not knowing how fast you would be flying, just in case, only you didn’t like it, so you opted to wear some sweats over the suit. 

And there you were, floating about 300 feet in the air with him, as he explained the basics of flying. 

“You want to create your own leverage, using your flight, you should be able to do this.” He bent one leg, tilting to the right as he effortlessly glided in that direction, he repeated the action only now going in the opposite direction. 

You nodded, imitating his movements, gliding from side to side before stopping and looking at him. He smiled brightly at you, “You’re doing great, kid. There was never a point where you didn’t have powers, so this should be easy. Now, we’ll test your speed.” 

You nodded, “How are we doing that?”

He pulled out a stopwatch, “I’m going to wait here while you fly to Gotham and back. You know the route?” 

You nodded. 

“Okay… and…. Go!”

You immediately shot forward, a slightly bumpy start but your body adapted immediately, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and a smile spread across your face as you made a U-turn around Gotham, making it back to Clark in seconds. 

“2.6 seconds. That’s good.” He smiled at you. 

You went on like that for the next few hours, him giving you encouraging words of advice, and you gained better control over your abilities, him providing you with tips he learned over the years. For that last hour, Jon and Conner joined the two of you, the four of you eventually just playing air tag until Martha and Lois called you in for dinner. 

They insisted you stay for dinner, and you had no mind to refuse, spending time with them was nice. Jon insisted he sat next to you at dinner, excitedly talking your ear off about whatever he’d gotten to that day, and sharing his favorite stories about Damian with you. He acts like he doesn't like people, but he’s got a soft spot for a lot of us, were his exact words. You honestly completely agreed, you smiled at him as he continued talking. 

That day you’d gotten to know Martha and Jonanthan Kent, who insisted you called them Ma and Pa. They instantly coddled you as if they’d known you since birth, though, in a way, that is technically the case. 

They didn't let you leave empty handed, sending you off with tupper-ware filled with leftovers, cookies and pie. You thanked them for their hospitality and headed back to the manor. 

The next few months were mainly doing morning and evening training with Bruce, occasionally Dick would stop by to train with you, always telling you he was proud of your improvement, which never failed to make you glow just a little brighter with pride. He’d begun a tradition where he would treat you to a burger after training, or whatever it was you were craving. He said that it was his goal to get you to try every fast food joint in Gotham, deciding that it was just an essential part of living there. You quickly decided you hated fast food, but never said anything because that wasn’t at all what mattered to you, what mattered to you was the bond you were creating with your older brother. 

Your relationship with Bruce wasn’t perfect. There were times you saw how focused he was on his mission, neglecting the feelings of those around him, he could be an asshole. And with you still navigating your emotions, you’d get angry and yell, and so would he. If you saw him brushing off Damian, or Tim, one look at the crestfallen expressions on their faces was enough to get you angry. You shouldn’t have been surprised, truthfully, you weren’t. You were too similar. You were just fortunate enough to be surrounded by people early on who could convince you to let them in. 

Regardless of the imperfections between you and Bruce, you knew he cared. He always showed it with the small smile he’d give you as he held up two tickets to the movie you had wanted to see. Or in the way he’d lure everyone into the living room with snacks for a movie night. Or how he’d try his best to always express to you that you were doing well. That you were enough, and that you deserved to be there. 

You’d grown closer with Tim, too, always willing to help him with his assignments (not that he often needed it, but on the rare occasions his sleep deprived self couldn’t wrap his head around a problem). You’d often go to him when you needed help figuring something out on your phone, to which he would offer a simple solution you hadn’t seen before.

Tim was kind, he showed he cared for you by fixing things, when you cracked your screen protector by accidentally tapping it too hard, he made you a new one that could withstand the force of a bullet. He learned to confide in you over time, telling you about Bernard, expressing his worries to you about whether or not he’s good enough. You’d always tell him he was more than good enough. 

Damian had taken to calling you ‘sister’, often challenging and teasing you when he could, you’d developed a relationship where he’d go to you for company. You’d sit in the garden and take in the life around you, while he sat a few feet away and drew it.

Once, he drew you while you weren’t looking, when he finished, he handed it to you without a word and walked away. In the bottom right corner you read ‘Y/n Wayne-Kent’ in neat handwriting, just below that, ‘sister’. That was the first time he’d used that word for you. Your heart swelled. 

You continued seeing Steph, Barbara, and Cass, regularly having lunch with them and talking with them on the phone. Barbara, or as you now called her, Babs, was always there to guide you when you needed it, she’d often send you small gifts from time to time, like jewelry that reminded her of you.

Cass and you would often find the most peaceful company in each other. She would listen to you talk about all the things you'd been learning, telling you about her own experience adjusting to a new life.

Steph and you bonded over poorly written hallmark movies, she always giggled madly when you would point out plot inconsistencies, wearing the most confused expression she had ever seen on a person, you didn’t understand why at first, you would just state facts, but you always enjoyed the time with her. She always says you guys should start a podcast, and you always agree. You hope she never asks you what a podcast is... because you genuinely didn't know.

True to his word, you didn’t see Jason often, but there were a few instances  where you felt particularly suffocated by Bruce’s training that you took him up on his offer to take you somewhere he wasn’t. Those moments were... nice. Every time, he would bring food, and take you to his apartment, where you talked about books and he introduced you to some of his favorite movies. You didn’t know why he and Bruce didn’t get along, but you chose not to pry.

Alfred had taken a liking to you instantly, he enjoyed giving you etiquette lessons, and would bake all kinds of scones and cookies for you to try. His humor was at times very dry and sarcastic, which never failed to make you laugh. He taught you how to bake once, finding you were exceptionally good at it, ‘Miss Y/n, I think we’ve found your natural talent’. You hadn’t expected to be good at it, but Alfred said you were phenomenal. 

You’d also train with Clark 3 times a week, getting even closer with the Kents, integrating yourself in both families. It was interesting being part of two very different families. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Clark had shown you a lot about your powers, but it was never just training. It had become a necessity for the two of you to fly to some famous landmark and have lunch together, before flying back to Smallville for more training.

Clark was constantly trying his best for you, he still had his regrets from his initial relationship with Conner, and although he was forgiven and their relationship was rebuilt, he knew he lost time. And he absolutely refused to repeat that and hurt someone else who didn’t deserve it. 

You always stayed for dinner, you found that you could never say no to Jon, the one time you tried was awful, you felt so bad that you went back the next day and took him shopping. With Bruce's card, duh.

Jon was stuck to you like glue whenever you were over. He always insisted on sitting by you and talking to you about whatever he’d been up to. He flew around with you a lot, you guys would play games that he taught you how to play. Your favorite moments were when he and Damian would allow you in to watch them play video games because ‘How do you not know how to play video games? That’s just wrong. We’ll teach you.’

Conner had spent more and more time with you as well, telling you about a lot of social cues, the importance of boundaries, etc. He was determined to help you adjust in every way he could, he shared his experiences with you when he first started working in teams. You learned a lot from him, he was very affectionate with you, but in that awkward-older-brother way. He’d give you a soft pat on the back and a smile, he knew you’d do just fine. 

Lois became your role model, you truly admired her. She was strong, outspoken, confident. She helped you not be afraid of forming your own opinions and voicing them. One time she saw you yell at Bruce over something he’d done, and all she could do was smile proudly.

These people whose lives you just appeared in one day, very quickly became your family. Every day you were reminded of how lucky you were to have come to care for them as much as you do. Bonding with them was nice, and you very quickly understood the appeal of having family.

These are people who care for you unconditionally, simply because they want to. Because every moment that they spend with you, they choose to.

And just like that, you were ready to meet the team. You had learned to combine your combat skills with your powers, if you need to, you can fight in mid air. You’d learned to incorporate your abilities into your technique to enhance your own personal style. And it felt amazing.

You knew every possible way to deliver an effective, non-lethal blow.  Of course, you needed a suit. Bruce offered to enhance the one you had worn the day they rescued you, but you wanted a new one. To you, that suit represented what you were created to be, and that is not who you are. You wanted something true to yourself, and he understood and wholeheartedly supported you. Damian helped you make a sketch, and together you’d designed the perfect representation of you. And you became Eclipse. The alignment of two heroes, though unintentional, created a whole new hero. You.

Taglist- @one-green-frog @bonniecat @minnieearsposts @chickentenderx @murkyponds @loserwithnofriends @ilikefanfics4 @fangirlvibez @instantplaiddream @lovelywritersgarden @calicocat45 @strawberrycreamh @sappynappysworld @zyuuuu @allycat4458 @lovelypitasworld @batfamlover @pterodactyl-hater @american-idiot21 @starlets-things @th1s-b1tch-1s-dead @dontgivemeyourname @normal-internet-user @sillyfinn @lostgirlsstuff @llvmakk @princess76179 @vanessa-boo @1lellykins @blitzythefanvergentpitsterthings @samibrewss @pickyblue12 @thetiredtoad0-0 @lacklustertrashbag (I'm not sure why some people's tags didn't work,, I am very sorry, if anyone has suggestions onhow to fix that i'm open to fix them)

[cherryblossom-heart]

One Day(Sukuna x Reader)

Rockstar!Sukuna x Reader

I love you, Sukuna. So much. I just don't like you anymore

A/N: Hi everyone!!!! This is part of @indiewritesxoxo's Friday Night Flicks event (such an amazing idea btw ughhhh love your brain) and I'm soooo excited to bring you guys one of the movies that never fails to bring me to tears. This is all still in the works and I'll bring you guys a date soon for when this is going to be released but just know this will be chaptered. Anyhoo... hope you guys are ready for a tear jerk festival because it's going to make us SUFFER! Also, I'm in my Sukuna era apparently haha.

CW: ANGST, Fluff, Smut (the holy grail, obvs) depictions of drug use and violence, heartbreak, depression, Sukuna is a slut, he is also his own warning, low self-esteem issues, cheating, strangers to friends to lovers, more to be added.

STATUS: FIRST CHAPTER COMING MAY 2TH!

July 15th 2005

Asks

Drabbles

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Still as Stone

Kinktober Day 6: Voyeurism

Male Gargoyle Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: Noncon, stalking, voyeurism, kidnapping, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 285

(Sorry it's another drabble, but I was going to do it anyway, I just wanted more space between drib drabs. Anyway I hope you love it!)

You bought the big dicked gargoyle statue because you thought it would piss off the prudish home owner's association that you lived near.

Despite being just outside of their jurisdiction, they had removed trees at the edge of your property and even sent you fines for not following HOA rules. When you saw the stone gargoyle for sale at a market, you just knew it would tick them off.

It was over a foot taller than you and sported a massive jutting erection above two massive balls.

You didn't expect the act of purchasing him and taking great care of him to cause the spell that kept him frozen as a statue to break.

How were you supposed to know he was a living gargoyle that had been sealed as a statue for over seven centuries?

You didn't expect him to develop an obsession with him because you freed him.

You didn't expect him to spy on you through your window, to watch as you got dressed, for him to stroke his mighty cock while seeing you in your private most intimate moments.

You didn't expect him to start stalking you at all hours no matter where you went, using his magic to blend into shadows and remain hidden. When his position in your yard shifted, you thought it was the work of the HOA trying and failing to remove him.

And you certainly didn't expect for him to lose patience and steal you away. For you to be on your back with an outline of his dick bulging out your belly as he fucked you ferally over and over before dragging you back to his home dimension for an eternity of fucking and cockwarming.

[saerins]

ೀ series: sae x f!reader | ೀ content warnings: fluff, angst, modern!au, arranged marriage, rich!reader and rich!sae, hints of manipulation/gaslighting, lots of bad parenting, bouts of toxicity/jealousy, swearing (more might be added)

synopsis: neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?

notes: ahhhh finally starting a sae series (thanks to all of you who voted !!) ˃̵ᴗ˂̵ this is not gonna be too long so i’m hoping i’ll see this through … there might also be drabbles in between when i need some buffer time hehe ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ ty to whoever reads this !! <3 i’ll try to get the prologue out soon :)

status: completed

word count: 51.1k

ೀ masterlist ೀ

prologue: all see through, just like glass 01: thorns without flowers, bars with no drinks 02: a million miles away, still you connect me in your way 03: for a while, you were all mine 04: behind a box of reasons why 05: if not for this love of mine 06: redefines in every way what love is 07: till forever falls apart

[greenbergsays]

54 or 64 or 74 for the drabbles! whichever sparks joy 💕

74. "I didn't mean what I said."

--

Are you? In love with Eddie?

Buck feels pretty good about the way he handled Maddie’s accusation. He wasn’t angry and he didn’t bite back, even though there was a small part of him that wanted to do just that. He just made sure she knew the status quo.

Are you? In love with Eddie?

If her words still ring in his ears hours later, it means nothing. It means nothing because it isn’t true.

He feels good about the way he handled it.

He feels good, all the way up until Eddie FaceTimes him the next morning.

Buck hasn’t told anyone—and he’s pretty sure Eddie hasn’t, either—but they do this every day. It wasn’t a decision. It’s not like they sat down and made a schedule. 

It just…happened. It developed.

And then suddenly, Eddie’s been in Texas for a month, and they have a routine. Eddie calls every morning, Buck calls every night. At least one of them calls throughout the day, if not both of them.

Eddie is in Texas and Buck is in California, but they talk at least three times a day. It never quite heals the gaping wound inside of Buck, but it does stem the bleeding. It’s enough; it has to be.

Are you? In love with Eddie?

Buck was confident in his denial when Maddie asked. He knew the answer.

And then Eddie FaceTimes, and Buck answers the call to see that he hasn’t even rolled out of bed yet. His face is still half-buried in a white pillow, his brow furrowed as he squints at the phone screen. The moment he sees Buck, his expression smooths out, a sleepy smile lighting up the room better than the sun ever could. 

“Hey,” Eddie murmurs, his voice still hoarse and rough from sleep.

Buck’s heart thumps.

He stares at Eddie—the soft, hazy quality of him, his terrible bedhead, the gentle curl of his smile, just the hint of his deep brown eyes—

Buck stares, sick to his stomach with guilt as he thinks, I denied you.

He’s important enough to Eddie for Eddie to call every single morning without fail, because Eddie knows that he’s been left before and the people who did that to him never bothered to stay in touch. He’s important enough that Eddie called this morning before he’d ever rolled out of bed.

He’s important to Eddie. He matters to Eddie. And Buck—he—

And for what? Because he didn’t want to be a cliche? Because a hopeless, unrequited love would hurt?

He’s done it before. He’s loved harder and deeper and more than anyone has ever loved him.

He’s had to survive the pain of unequal love his whole life. He could survive it again; he just didn’t want to. He’d been a coward.

All those people he loved, people who didn’t care about him—not truly—but Eddie is the one he denies? Eddie, who deserves to be loved that hard. Eddie, who even if he can’t love Buck back, cares about him.

Eddie deserves everything. He deserves more.

And Buck denied him.

Are you? In love with Eddie?

Buck’s very foundation, the core of who he is, starts to shake. It’s worse than any earthquake he’s ever experienced; even worse than the one that hit LA just weeks after he met Eddie. Everything inside him starts to crumble.

The soft, hazy quality to Eddie falls away immediately. He frowns, sitting up in bed as he rubs sleep from his eye.

“What is it?” He asks. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Buck shakes his head, hoping that the camera doesn’t pick up on the quiver of his lips or the way his eyes have started to threaten tears.

God, he’s so stupid.

“Nothing,” he whispers. “Nothing, I just—I—”

His voice dies suddenly. There are so many ways he could finish that sentence. 

I denied you. 

I don’t deserve you. 

I—

Buck rubs a hand over his face, shaking his thoughts loose.

“Nightmare,” he says, smiling weakly.

It doesn’t even feel like a lie. Life very much feels like a nightmare right now.

Eddie’s face softens and Buck’s heart thumps again, harder than before.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Buck shakes his head. 

“Distract me?” He asks instead.

And because Buck matters—because he’s important—Eddie does. 

Between them, Buck is usually the talker. He’s the one that recounts every little detail of his day, that has a series of fun facts to share when there’s a lull from countless late night deep dives. Most of the time, Eddie is content to listen and chime in when necessary.

Today, Eddie cares the brunt of the conversation as they go through their morning routines together. Buck isn’t even sure what they talk about; he spends the entire time staring at Eddie’s profile and trying to remember to breathe.

Are you? In love with Eddie?

I denied you.

When Eddie finally, reluctantly hangs up, Buck calls Maddie. The knot of guilt choking his insides won’t loosen until he makes this right.

The call connects, but Buck doesn’t even give her a chance to say anything.

“I didn’t mean it,” he blurts out. “Last night…I didn’t mean what I said.”

Maddie is silent for a long moment.

“Are you ready to talk about it now?” She asks gently.

Buck squeezes his eyes shut. The pain has already begun; it probably started when he answered Eddie’s call. 

But he can survive this. He has before. He’s done it for people who didn’t deserve it half as much. 

He can do it for Eddie.

Are you? In love with Eddie?

It wouldn’t be so crazy.

Are you?

“Yes.”

[cutiecusp]

Finally.

BF! Graves x reader.

Now I know, Graves isn't our fave CoD operator, in fact every time I play as him I get hell in the lobbies still xD but I wanted to explore a best mate drabble I've been thinking of. We all know him as cocky, arrogant... and what if he is, but not to us? And we ask him for help with a problem... warning, this is a LONG one!

(tw. Virginity loss, best friend, hidden feelings, revealed feelings, kissing,teeny blood mention, smut, PinV. So MDNI!!)

"You want me to what?" Came the loud reply from your best friend.

Flinching at the volume, you press a finger to your lips, hoping no one else heard him.

"You know what I'm asking. You've probably done it a hundred times over." You hiss, eyes darting around the canteen.

"Darlin' you know I love you. We've been friends forever, but this, this I can't help you with, I'm sorry." Phillip backs off in his chair, his arms raised in mock surrender, his jaw tightly wound, as if he was going to say something further, but held himself back.

Your cheeks redden. You knew asking was probably the biggest risk in your friendship, but you trusted no one else, and you harboured feelings for Phillip ever since you both enlisted years ago, but always dampened it down due to his cocky demeanor.

"It's just a few minutes of your time, no feelings involved..." You bargain, leaning into the table.

"A few- a few minutes?" He splutters, gaining attention from the other table. He leans into your space, watching the blush flush from your cheeks.

"Sweet thing, the guy who takes your gift should be someone special. Someone you trust to make you feel good. Not a few stolen minutes on base. What's brought this on?"

"I think I'm defective." You admit softly.

"Defective how?" He presses, scooting in his chair, closing the gap between you two.

"No one else I know is a virgin at our age." You state, your cheeks stained pink.

"You go around talking about it with everyone?" He teases, hoping to break the mood.

"This isn't funny, Phillip. Why does no one want me?" You say, near tears.

What you fail to notice is that from the minute you both enlisted together, you've always been Graves' girl. He practically growls at any suitor interested in you, and the grapevine is adamant that you two are a thing. He's just too chicken to act on it.

"You'll find someone, doll." He says easily, like he's not worried about your status.

"Maybe I'll ask Ghost, he seems nice enough." You say, sliding your tray across the table, and standing up, dismissing the conversation.

"I'll catch you later." You call out as you follow Ghost into the corridor. You fail to see a pair of jealous eyes trailing your body as you leave.

A few hours go by, and curfew is approaching. You change into your pyjamas and grab your book, settling in for the night when you hear a brisk knock in the door.

Pulling it open, you find Graves, all dishevelled and mad.

"Tell me you didn't do it, doll." You smell a hint of bourbon on his breath, as he steps into your room.

You step back, shaking your head.

"D-do what?" You ask, but you already know the answer.

"Tell me you didn't give Ghost your body, baby. Tell. Me." He commands, eyes glossy with dutch courage.

"No, I didn't." You admit. You knew he wasn't the one when he turned you down gently and pointed out that someone else may want you and your gift. The very someone barging into your room.

You scoffed at Ghost, but it turns out his premonition was right.

"I.. i couldnt." You admit. Your eyes searching his for the unspoken question you were asking.

He steps into your space, his body close enough to yours that you could smell his cologne you brought him for Christmas. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, and back up to his eyes.

Involuntarily, your tongue darts out to wet your lip, soliciting a deep groan from Graves.

His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close to him, your bodies pressed against each other.

"You know, for the longest time, doll..." He pauses, his fingers tracing patterns over your hips.

"For the longest time. I've never felt like I deserved you. I've watched you from afar take on challenges even I've flinched at. You've taken every deployment, successful in most. You are faster, stronger and far more deadly than most of the team. You are smart, funny, kind.. Your laugh makes me laugh, your heart is.. your heart is generous, and I'm glad to call you a friend."

He pauses, and cups your chin with one hand, while brushing the hair out of your face with rhe other.

"But. I'd be lying if I said that's all I want to be. Your eyes are like pools, that I could stare into for hours, your body fits into my hands perfectly... I just want to dip my feet in and taste you, to see if you taste of heaven."

"I should be the one honoured to take your gift. To pleasure you until you see stars, to give you my body as much as you give me yours. I want to own every godamn moan that comes out of that mouth. I want you." He concludes, his breath ragged in his chest.

"Please." He asks. And one word is all it takes for you to melt in his arms as he swipes his lips over yours gently, his tongue opening your mouth further.

You moan in the back of your throat as he leads you to the bed, barely stopping kissing to lay down on the sheets.

"Tell me you want this, and I'll give you all you want." Phillip whispers.

You nod, and you see him shake his head.

"Words, baby. Tell me." He insists.

"I want this, Phillip, probably have for the longest time. I want you." You admit.

Pulling back, so his body is half over you, he pulls his t shirt over his head, and you observe his body with a smile. Your fingers trace over his shoulders, down his chest and to his waistband.

"Not yet, darlin'" He admonishes gently, undoing the buttons to the top of your pyjamas, exposing the soft skin bare underneath.

He lets out a breath, his eyes darkened with desire.

"Fuck, baby. You are so beautiful." He slides the fabric off your shoulders, the cool air pebbling your nipples, as you take a shuddering breath.

"It's okay, I got you." He says, bending down to place kisses along your soft skin, before taking a nipple into his mouth, and swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud, his hand playing similarly with its pair.

With the other hand, he brings his fingers up and holds your hand flush to your head, effectively trapping you against him.

A whimper tears from your throat as you feel warmth lick your lower belly, combined with the weight of him on you, and the pleasure he was pulling from you, you thought you could burst.

"Phillip, please." You beg, although you aren't sure what you want entirely.

He chuckles against your body, his hand moving from your breast to your pyjama shorts.

"Please, what, darlin'" He asks gruffly, his fingers playing with your waistband.

"I need.. I need more." You admit, eyes wide with lust.

You see Phillip pull back on his heels, and whimper at the loss of contact. He smirks, his lip lifting at the side.

"God, darlin' you look amazing right now." He says softly, almost fully devoted.

He looks at you for permission before he wriggles your shorts down your legs, the moisture between your legs sticking to the soft fabric.

"Fuck, baby. No underwear?" He asks, surprise evident in his tone.

You shake your head shyly as he opens your legs, baring yourself to him.

"Oh, she's gorgeous." He whispers, more to himself than anything but you blush regardless.

"And so wet for me, doll." His voice thick with need, his eyes darker than coal.

You watch as he swipes his fingers through your folds firmly, collecting your nectar on his fingertips. He brings it to his mouth and sucks them clean.

You hold your breath as he closes his eyes before noticing the bulge in his jeans. You smirk a little, satisfied you weren't the only one affected.

He leans down, hooking your legs over his shoulders as he licks a heavy stripe from your clit down, pulling a delicious sound out from your lips. He suckles on your sensitive flesh until you pull his hair, guiding him to where you want him. His tongue flat, he takes his time licking building you up to your first orgasm.

It hits you out of nowhere, your eyes tightly shut, your toes curled as wave after wave hits you, you try to talk, but no sound comes out of your mouth, just a flash of bright light behind your eyes.

Phillip straightens up, and kisses you, combining your taste in your lips as you return the kiss deeply.

"You OK, darlin'" He asks, a little cockily.

"You look proud of yourself." You retort.

"I just got the prettiest girl in the world to come on my face, I'd say I'm pretty proud of myself." He replies easily.

You choke on a breath you had been holding.

"Phillip!" You chastise, mock scandalised

He grins, and heads back down between your legs.

"Phillip, I can't." You protest, your thighs a little sore.

"Gotta prep you, baby. Don't wanna hurt you." He explains, kissing your inner thighs before returning to your sensitive folds. His tongue painting masterpieces over the skin.

You gasp as you feel his finger slowly work his way inside you, the feeling intrusive, but not painful.

"There you go baby, think you could take more for me?" He asks between licks.

You nod, and you shudder as you feel a second finger match the first, but this time pressing down on a sensitive spot.

"God, Phillip.. please!" You pant as he strokes the spot over and over, that familiar warmth in your lower belly as you tighten around his fingers.

"Come for me darlin', come on my fingers." Phllip insists, picking up the pace to match your hips bucking against his fingers.

You squeal as you come, your pussy clenching around his fingers, eyes rolled in the back of your head.

"Fuck." You hear him whisper, opening your eyes, you lock your gaze with his, and find nothing but admiration and pride.

"You looked so sexy, coming on my fingers like that darlin'" He chuckles.

"Almost came in my jeans."

You look down and you could see a dark patch on his jeans, he catches you looking and raises an eyebrow.

"Off. Now." You command, your hands going to his belt.

He shucks off the denim and fabric underneath, leaving him naked in front of you.

"Do you want me to?" You swallow, unable to look away.

Phillip shakes his head.

"Won't last long if you do, darlin' and I'd rather come in that pretty cunt of yours. I assume you are on the pill?"

You nod and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him to you, your lips pressed against his as he leads you both back down on the bed.

Your legs spread open as he settles between them, his soft gaze on yours.

"You ready, doll? We can always stop here."

You throw him a look, and rock your hips against his.

"Not a fucking chance." You say firmly.

He chuckles as he slides home, his length stretching you out deliciously. You gasp, and squeeze your eyes shut, and he pauses.

"You okay, baby?" He asks, concern written on his features.

"I'm good, just... adjusting." You admit, opening your eyes.

He slowly rocks his hips against yours, and any discomfort melts away as the pleasure takes over you both. You trail your hands over his shoulders and chest, feeling his skin under your touch.

"Phillip." You whisper, afraid to break the moment.

He looks down at you, your body underneath his.

"Yeah, darlin'?"

"I'm not gonna break, go faster." You urge, wrapping your ankles around his lower back.

He picks up the pace, leaning back a little, knelt at your hips as he watches where you two meet. He watches the creamy ring around the bottom of his cock, tinged with a little pink.

You are his is all Phillip can think of as he rocks against you, your body fitting against his perfectly. You pull his closer for another kiss, changing the position of your hips, taking him deeper.

You both groan at the sensation, the feeling of fullness for yourself, and the tight vice of your pussy clamping down on his cock as he guides you to another orgasm.

He brushes your hair away from your face, taking in your flushed cheeks, and glossy eyes.

"You feel so good, baby." He admits softly, his hips snapping against yours as he feels you building up to a third orgasm. His fingers softly pinching your nipples, sending a shock wave of pleasure down your spine.

"You gonna come for me, come on this cock?" He asks, smiling at the way you nod.

"Words, doll." He reminds you.

"Fuck, yes, Phillip, I'm gonna come.." You pant, your hips matching his pace as you chase your high.

You feel like you are floating as another orgasm rips through you, you didn't care how loud you were being as pleasure burst through your body.

Phillip snaps his hips to yours, following closely, his spend deep inside you. He pulls you into his body, slowly pulling himself out as he wraps his arms around you.

Sweaty and satisfied, you look up at Phillip, who places a kiss on your forehead.

"I'll run you a bath, thank fuck we have the bigger barracks." He laughs. He pulls himself from you, as your phone chimes.

'Fucking finally. Can you hear you both down the hall.' 👻

You blush and hand your phone to Phillip, who laughs.

"He's right, darlin'... fucking finally.."

...................................

A/N this turned out to be the longest drabble ever. I know some of you are here due to the Matchmaker series, which will be resumed ASAP, but I hope this appeases the writers block Gods! I appreciate everyone's likes, comments, asks, reblogs, it all means so much. ♥️

@xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @livingoutsidethetardis @gardenof-venus @misshugs @soraya-daydreams @frudoo @azxulaa @yesornowaitidontknow @enjisbf @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @rynbeerose @lunamoonbby @incredible-walker @identity2212 @pukbadger @urbimom @corvid007 @wordsfromshona @shadows-empress @m00xy @canyonmooncreations @evie-119

[iratempestatis]

Saw you asking for Xiao requests and thought I could send some!

This might be a little odd one, but... A self-aware Xiao finding out that he has fans like us who love him kinda romantically? It could be fun!

Xiao Waxes Poetic About Fandom

Xiao x gn!reader, 1.5k words. Anon I'm so sorry but I had actually no idea how to write this adgvhfcdcb. I tried my best but I kept giggling about lost 50/50s and and my 80 cr Xiao never critting without Motivation (crit food). I actually considered making hcs instead but I kept writing drabbles instead. Then I tried to write a fic, but kept writing... hcs... Perhaps if inspiration strikes me I'll revisit this idea someday, but! For now, allow me to present you with what feels like a raccoon in a tiara and a feather duster dress-

If Xiao could control player summons, he’d be yours already.

Unfortunately, he cannot- ergo you’ve made a hundred and forty pulls with not a Xiao in sight.

You've never hated Diluc more in your life, he can tell. Poor Diluc.

There are twenty minutes left for his banner to disappear for Devs know how long. He knows your luck is decidedly not his fault, but feels guilty nonetheless. What if he’s treated the same as Ganyu? Or, Devs forbid, Eula? 

You really did look forward to getting him, building him. He was so startled by your devotion- seated on that banner, he could see you anxiously open your inventory, check if you had enough primogems. You pre-farmed for him. You made silly little rituals for him(he winced when they failed). It was absurd. He was a high investment hyper carry. Why bother?

But you pulled Furina, and you pulled Faruzan. You don't have Xianyun (yet, he thinks, in both awe and alarm as he sees her ascension and talent materials in your inventory.)

He cannot fathom it. 

Perhaps you wanted Xianyun for herself- but then you also have Faruzan with all of her constellations lit up. And you also have Furina- and god, nevermind, you really did want him. The set you intend to put on Xianyun is the Song of Days Past. Four piece. With energy recharge substats.

You’re so close. Seventy. You get Layla. He echoes you when he mutters “but you’re not even on the banner!”

Twenty minutes left. You caress the screen. (That's a bit much.) Your brows are pinched together, lower lip worried by your teeth.

“I might have to break my free to play status,” you whisper.

It's not worth it! He wants to scream. Don't do it!

You bite your lip again as you find a chest. Primogem count: 159.

Oh dear.

“It’s fine,” you whisper. “It’s fine. This is fine.”

Xiao wishes he could make you go to bed somehow. You’ve been awake for hours. It’s fine even if you don’t pull him now, he returns like clockwork every lantern rite- hm? What are you pulling your Tighnari out for?

He knows you never really bothered to build him prior, purely because farming those fungi was a pain. He watches as you make Yelan rush up to the cliffs of the very Chasm before switching to Tighnari. When he realises what you’re doing, he buries his face in his palms. Your party members groan. Xiao wonders if you’re serious- you want to hit a bird in flight? With your aim?

“FOOL!” Faruzan shrieks. “Attack the ruin guard at Stormbearer instead! That achievement is much easier to get- Hat Guy, do something-“

“Too late.” He smacks his forehead with the back of his hand. “It’s started.”

Shing! Nothing Special, Just Practice.

What-?

You whoop, then cough and fall silent, anxiously peeking out of your room. Your fingers shake with trepidation as they land on the screen.

Wish x1.

Xiao feels a familiar tug as he hurtles through the air.

✦—————————————✦

Much to his immense surprise, this is an incredibly familiar story. Every time his banner rolls around there’s people that want him- spend for him, run amok collecting primogems for him. Farming for him. Giving him increasingly prettier and stronger polearms. Thrusting the Staff of Homa in his hands (sorry, Hu Tao).

He’s always a bit baffled, unless the person is someone already inclined to spend. He’s not a good choice for anyone’s account. He’s incredibly unflexible. A bit niche even. He doesn’t even do what his element is meant for.

Yet somehow you seem to enjoy running around with him. Making him special little layouts in the teapot. Insisting he collects your rewards every time. Making him speak to Katheryne every day (it’s so awkward every time, and she keeps laughing when your back is turned).

He remembers doing the Chasm quest with you. When it had begun, you were nothing short of gleeful, which brought him only anguish- he knew in part what had transpired and what was about to- and he knew you’d only be heartbroken by the end of this story.

And you were. You somehow managed to contain yourself till the very end- refusing to move to have even a sip of water until the quest concluded. You were patient- absorbing every every dialogue, every inch of text you could get your hands on.

To be loved is to be known, he thinks amusedly as you sniffle at the conclusion, then immediately open the wiki to confirm some tiny wretched detail. He can’t help but smile to himself a little as you angrily mutter profanities at the advertisements jumping out at you.

✦—————————————✦

“Is she SERIOUS.”

Xiao exhales softly as the Wanderer paces around the teapot. He hasn’t shut up since you logged in- because as soon as you finished your dailies, you occupied yourself straight away with painstakingly modifying the teapot (and crying over changes you accidentally forgot to save), all to welcome home the newest limited anemo five star. He’s been furious since he heard of her and ergo his potentially impending powercreep, much to the amusement of literally everyone besides Barbara, who feels sorry for him and Qiqi, who keeps forgetting who he even is. Xiao wishes he could tell you- he’s sure you’d laugh to no end, but even if he could you probably wouldn’t hear him right now since you’re currently occupied with one of your wretched rituals. This one involves Chongyun and- OH dear, no-

Furina grits her teeth as the glacial greatsword slams into the ground, straight through her neck. Chongyun looks like he really wishes the teapot had a bathroom. Xiao sighs.

Tiny fingers tug on his sleeve. Xiao blinks and turns around to face Sayu, her face puffy, her eyes crusty and glued shut. Eugh. Children really are something sometimes. Xiao considers wiping at her face with his sleeve, but… no. The Wanderer barks a laugh.

“What’s going on?” Sayu yawns. “Who are we pulling for?”

“Chasca,” Xiao says as the Wanderer hisses like a cat. “I wonder if she’ll need Faruzan too?”

They turn to Faruzan, sprawled like a corpse across the grass. You need to touch some too, Xiao thinks. You’ve wasted nearly an hour on the game today, and today has barely begun. He suspects you just like the thrill of gacha and are desperate for a five star. Weren’t you saving up for Xianyun? No matter.

Xiao knows you’ll never stop using him. You love him too dearly and sunk cost fallacy has effectively reeled you in, stored you away in a grimy little box. You’ve invested too much into Xiao to cast him aside now. But the Wanderer…

Barbara trots out the house just as the sky darkens, a cloudy depression opening up in the heavens. The Wanderer finally stops ranting, something about loyalty and actually amusing gameplay. Barbara puts the Tome of Eternal Flow away with a gasp upon noticing the giant HOLE in the sky (how did she just notice? Why is she gasping at the wishing screen when you open it thrice a day?) and gently nudges Faruzan out of her dysania to welcome home the newest anemo dps. Faruzan sniffles. Poor woman. It can’t be easy, dealing with him and the (thankfully, now quiet) ex Fatuus.

You pull. Xiao doesn’t bother holding his breath. It might as well be Bennett pulling, really because recently you’ve been getting exactly nothing of value. Another Faruzan, a Gorou for some godforsaken reason, four rainslashers, and so forth.

“Perhaps you’ll avoid your fourth betrayal,” Xiao muses. The Wanderer shoots him a startled glare, then laughs.

“Perhaps. You’re lucky, twink- NO!”

“Chasca, Flower-Feather Clan. Any disputes you need me to end for you? Depending on the situation, it could cost you a little di-“

✦—————————————✦

All things considered, it’s been a strange few years for Xiao. Since the game’s inception, he’s known he would be consigned to a solitary fate. He’s not a straightforward person, or particularly honest. He’s troublesome to play and troublesome to speak with. His chronicles are drenched in blood and anguish, quietly nestled away in softly murmured dialogue, artifact descriptions and optional adventures. Whatever love he was once showered with had long since washed away by the years that came after. And yet...

People continued to bother reaching past his exterior, reaching about with tender fingers. Wanting to know. Wanting to learn. They spoke of him. They took soft little bunches of their finite time and spun it into stories of him, art of him, words and adoration whispered and passed among one another in the communities they formed- that came together all because of their love for him.

It never failed to astonish him, fill him with gratitude so copious it was difficult to contain at times. It always drove him a bit insane- people loved him enough to painstakingly learn about him, strengthen him. That he was significant enough to sow the seeds of friendship formed by the common love felt for him.

Thinking about it makes him feel a bit silly. He’s just a character. He wonders if the others think about this as well (not Qiqi for sure) but he’s glad to have brought people someone real comfort after his fictional atrocities. Mortals… humans. He snorts a bit. He’ll try a bit harder to crit for you tomorrow.

[cxlamarisalxmi]

Being Miguel’s daughter and hosting Venom

[Platonic One-Shot]

c/w: major spoilers, angst, gender neutral terms and pronouns (they/them), suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide, no gendered terms used to describe reader, canon ignorance and inaccuracies, if you read the drabble you’ll know you originally just hosted Venom but this time I’m writing you as Spider-Venom

—

[Unedited]

The sun kissed the Western horizon as it slowly sunk beneath the surface. The gorgeous colors of the settling dusk bathing your New York in the luminous sheen of the golden glow that settles upon the city like a blanket.

You were just finishing up for the day, swinging from a tall skyscraper to tether a web to the very top of a clock tower. Pulling yourself up all the way to the top to perch on one of the very many gargoyle statues jutting out of the tower’s roof lip.

“Hungry.”

“That’s what the sandwiches are for bud.”

Venom settled inside when you tore the wrapping off the sandwich and took a big bite out of the end. Plenty of meat packed into the sandwich but also enough vegetables to sustain you too. Nutrients were vital in your symbiotic relationship with the alien and regardless of where they came from you both needed hundreds of them to keep yourselves alive and healthy.

“I hate the vegetables.”

“Well I like them. They taste better than people do.”

“You’ve never had another person before! You don’t let me eat people!”

“I’m not a cannibal.”

“Hmph.”

You rolled your eyes at the symbiote’s childish behavior, you’ve grown used to it but that didn’t mean you’d grown to like their attitude.

But you had grown to like them, ever since they had attached themself to you on your fourteenth birthday. The same day you very nearly took your own life.

Your life was far from perfect, as a matter of fact you can’t remember a time in your twenty long years of being alive that you’d actually been happy. Really, well and truly happy.

Your mother died when you were five and your father had abandoned you not too long after. About a year and half to be precise, and in his care and his care alone you’d learned that he was the furthest thing from what a proper father should be.

The first five years in which he parented you alongside your beloved mother he seemed guarded. Closed off, angry at the world and everyone surrounding him. And his own personal turmoil seemed to transcend into raising you— as he didn’t put an ounce of love or affection into bringing you up.

At the time, you hadn’t understood. What did you do wrong? Did you make him angry? Why wouldn’t he love you unconditionally? Your mother did.. was it so hard for him to treat you as his own? As if he loved you?

Apparently it was too hard for him, because he didn’t want to do it alone. And when your mother had died of cancer he had attempted to raise you in her honor but failed miserably and gave up within two years.

You were seven when you experienced your first heartbreak, in the years prior under his ‘care’ you had plenty share of devastation and let-downs from him. But none compared to this, no other feeling you had ever experienced before compared to this.

A searing ache in your chest born of self doubt, lack of self worth and value. Because you had believed it was entirely your fault that he was incapable of loving you fully and to the extent of his heart. And it festered in your years spent under different families, the issues regarding how you viewed yourself only darkening as you were let down over and over again.

Given up on— over and over again. And the ache continued to linger, growing in secret places— dark and hateful in your tired heart.

And slowly but surely it had given up on you too, shatter to pieces and cast to the wind to leave you broken and hurt. Vulnerable and fragile to the cold and bitter winds of this cruel and brutal life.

Eventually your mind followed suit, wishing for anything to escape this pain. Anything to leave it behind.

Your luck had a turn for the worst when you were bitten by a spider at twelve and gifted cursed with abilities and skills inhuman and otherworldly.

Enhanced senses, heightened sensitivities and awareness and phenomenal intelligence and strength.

Superhuman.

And for two years you lived with it, not utilizing the powers for any kind of purpose. The heightened healing property of your curse made it hard to give up on this life as you had so desperately wished to.

You tried and tried again— and each time you failed.

When you were fourteen is when you met Venom, you had tested buildings before but never the Golden Gate Brigde. And as you clambered over the rail to stand at the very edge of the bridge’s structure— it happened.

You remember the feel of their texture sliding across your skin, then the pressure you felt as they sunk beneath your skin to meld with your body—

“It wasn’t that bad. You’re overexaggerating.”

“I thought we agreed you’d stay out of my head.”

“I never agreed to that.”

“Venom,” you scolded lightly. Not reprimanding in a way that spat disappointment over ownership. But in a way that spoke volumes of the relationship you shared with the alien. Equals.

“I hate it when you think about that bastard.”

“I know, I’m sorry.. my thoughts get away from me.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. He made his choice, you are what he made you. And you’re more than worth it. You deserve love just as everybody else.”

They went silent after that and you didn’t bother trying to get them to keep up the conversation. Just smiled softly at their nature— overprotective and fond.

Venom had saved your life when you were at your lowest, the abilities you gained from your spider bite coupled well with their own. And upon latching themself to you they had promised they would make you see the value in life. And you had.. in them.

They were what kept you alive, and you couldn’t be more grateful for them coming to your aid when you needed it the most.

“You’re sweet, you like to act like you’re big and bad but on the inside you’re just a big softie.”

“I regret everything I said.”

“Oh come on, I was thanking you for what you said.”

“Funny how you didn’t actually say the words ‘thank you’ at all.”

You just laughed as they grumbled in your head, but you were swift to straighten and turn serious when your senses tingled. Like a cold rippled shucking down your back to warn you of incoming danger or threats.

Venom growled lowly alongside the tingle and you jumped up, spinning around to face the danger that caused your senses to ripple. And a glowing orange portal suddenly erupted to life just a few feet in front of you. Sliding your mask back on you separated your feet and steadied yourself, prepared and strong in stance.

Your senses tingled again— sharper this time and you stood there on tense silence and a brief moment of absolute stillness. A moment later something was shooting from the portal, something turned out to be someone and you recognized the green suit and grinning goblin mask as Green Goblin tackled you off the building.

You freed yourself from his grasp and shot a web to the corner of the building to your left before pulling yourself free from his grip and onto the side of the skyscraper.

Your jaw ticked as a flicker of annoyance sparked to life in your chest. The very last thing you wanted to deal with after a long day was an anomaly. You were honestly tempted to just call up Peter B. Parker and have him come here and take care of this himself.

Or maybe he could convince the leader he follows to come do it, not that you know his name or anything f about him but from what Peter says apparently he’s pretty damn good at his job.

“Seriously another one? Our dimension can’t be that exciting can it?”

“Right there with ya buddy, why did he have to come here after we already finished up our day too?”

“Honestly, like— a little fucking class wouldn’t hurt.”

You chuckled at their remark before your senses tingling had you swinging away from the spot you occupied previously just as a gas bomb erupted against the brick.

An irritated sigh left your lips behind the fabric of your mask as you perched yourself on a lamp post, the Goblin’s eerie hysterical laughter echoing loud and prominent in the desolate streets surrounding you. Everyone having long since turned in for the night leaving the area free of any civilians which made your job —and in turn Venom’s— easier at least.

The fight that had begun two minutes after Goblin had tried to surprise you with his fucking chemical bombs wasn’t all you had thought it would be. This Goblin was a whole lot weaker than your Goblin, not only that but the guy kept glitching every few minutes.

And you and Venom capitalized on the very golden opportunities that event opened up to you every time it occurred.

And finally taking him down without any damage to the buildings or street was just the icing on the cake, the fact that the whole fight didn’t endanger any innocent people was a plus too.

Things only went to shit when you went back to that portal with Goblin slung over your shoulder and found two different spider variants walking out of it.

“Well what the fuck took them so damn long? Sure, sure no worries we’ll protect our own universe and keep others out too. No fucking problem on our end.”

Again, you found yourself chuckling humorously at Venom’s attitude. Their clear lack of patience and respect for those in charge of keeping the multiverse under control amusing you. Sure, you both liked Peter enough to admire what it was he and the guy he followed did.. along with the other spider variants he works with. But still.. if you’re going to make this your entire career and you’re going to dedicate yourself to the security of the multiverse— at least be good at it.

“Think this asshole got lost, poor wee lamb.” You quipped as you landed on the rooftop the other were standing on. You carelessly threw Goblin off your shoulder and he grunted as he hit the concrete on his back. The sound of pain coming from him almost humanizing him a bit, and you curled your lip derisively as he broke out into a mad grin seconds later.

Whilst you were distracted staring at Norman, Miguel withheld his sudden and intense urge to upheave all the contents in his stomach. His heard felt like lead as it plummeted to his toes, knots in his stomach winding themselves up tightly at the sound of your voice.

“[Y/Name]?”

You looked up when the man of the two variants spoke, and there was a flicker of recognition in your stomach at the voice. Recognition that swiftly turned to course and fiery hot rage that flowed through your blood like magma.

“How dare he?!”

The man pulled his mask off his face and there he was, your father, Miguel O’hara.

“How dare he return here?!”

You took an instinctive step back from him when he revealed his face. And you flinched internally when you saw it, he looked miserable.. eyes bloodshot and brows downturned to put a deep and painful scowl on his face.

He looked broken.. hurt.

And the twisted and vengeful feelings inside you felt good at the prospect of him hurting. You liked that look on his face.. because he more than deserved whatever put it there.

Miguel watched as you stepped back, you didn’t remove your mask as he did. Just stood there frozen as you stared at him. Then the eyes of your mask narrowed and he could abruptly feel the heat of your glare searing into his skin. Angry and painful.

“Parker— that fucking bastard, we’ll kill him.”

“We?” The woman spoke and you looked from your father to her. She had darker skin and a styled afro, her mask was more or less goggles on her face and Venom snickered inside your head at the mental insult you made.

You decided to ignore her question, the passive aggressive tone she took not inclining you to be cooperative with her at all.

“As far as we know Osborne was the only one who got into this universe,” you informed choosing to look back to Miguel to address him instead of the woman. “So gather him and go home.”

“[Y/Name] wait!—”

“Don’t. You’re just here for him right?” You queried gesturing to Norman when you referred to him. Then you were facing Miguel again. “Take him and get out. We’re finished here.” You weren’t granted the chance to see his reaction— immediately doing what you thought was best for you and getting out of the uncomfortable spot his return had put you in.

And you swung away as you ignored the calls of your name he roared into the night. You didn’t want anything to do with him, and there was nothing you owed to that bastard. Not a damn thing.

And as you swung away from that rooftop you felt angry at the fact that you could feel your guarded heart hurt in deep and stinging agony once again— because of him.

And you felt a twitch of disgust in yourself twist itself into a knot within your chest, born at the expense you felt you were dishonoring Venom by being hurt you saw your father again.

After all, it was them that had healed you six years ago when they had first bonded with you. And it was them and them alone that had healed that ache in your heart.

“Kid.”

“Please Venom, not now.”

They went silent after that, and you stayed quiet too as you swung through the city. You just wanted to be at home, safe and comfortable in the warmth of your own space. Just so you could calm the roaring of your blood and thunderous heart in the security and peace that your home brought you.

You knew that now that he knows you’re still alive he’ll come back, and you’re not sure how the next time will go.. this time you just wanted out. The way your heart had picked up and the way your blood quickened had made you just want to be isolated and safe.

You’re not so sure which feeling will take more presence next time— but you could promise this; the rage you had briefly felt, that died behind the feeling of ache and hurt but still lingered, was strong. If it took province over every other feeling next time you could promise it wouldn’t end well.

Not for Miguel.

Not for you.

And not for the multiverse.. the same multiverse he had been so keen on protecting—

The multiverse he had chosen over you.

—

a/n: I did this during a tattoo on my ribs— and the wipe down continues to be my least favorite part of adding tattoos to my body, cause how can I sit through a tattoo just fine then get weak on the wipe down? 🥲🤌🏽

[iggyshippingcorner]

1: alpha/alpha stobotnik (pre-canon) (word count: 1600)

[ here is my drabble for the poll from the other day! features: alpha stone, alpha robotnik, the death of an unnamed assassin (not super graphic), and robotnik's lack of care for stone's personal space. ]

When Agent Stone was assigned to Dr. Robotnik, he’d already heard enough rumours and hearsay to build a comprehensive dossier. Impossible to work with. Workplace hazard. Dangerous, a bully, a lunatic, aggressive. Uncontrolled. Several of his fellow agents, of multiple designations, had told him in confidence, huddled in the breakroom, that Dr. Ivo Robotnik was the most impossible alpha they’d ever had the misfortune of working with. An actual mad scientist. I mean, he’s brilliant, but he’s a right asshole. I heard Holly retired right after working with him. They actually let her leave, set her up somewhere in Mexico. And she only made it a week!

Stone had absorbed as much of the gossip as he could, compiling it all in a neat folder in his mind. He used to pride himself on his network of “friends” in GUN, people who were eager to share workplace drama with him because they didn’t see him as a threat. He’d never felt the need to posture or preen like the other alpha agents-- always found it far more useful to allow others to underestimate him, get comfortable with his neutral scent and his calm demeanour. Plus, if he’d been an arrogant, bull-headed alpha, he never would’ve been selected for Dr. Robotnik’s security detail. 

The official facts, passed down to him from on high, are as follows:

Dr. Ivo Robotnik is a genius inventor, and one of GUN’s most prized assets, despite the fact that his contract with the organisation is about as sturdy as sand. His allegiance could be swayed with a strong enough tide, and GUN knew it. 

GUN wants any possible crumbs of proof that Dr. Robotnik is working with foreign agencies or diplomats or anything suspicious, so that they can force him to take a more permanent contract. 

Dr. Robotnik is a paranoid, highly territorial alpha who rules his den lab with an iron fist. His security detail has the highest turnover rate GUN’s ever had the misfortune of paying for. In the nine months Dr. Robotnik has been contracted to work with GUN, he’s gone through sixty-three agents from varying levels. 

The longest lasting bodyguard assigned to him was another Special Agent with a lengthy military career and a knack for quiet violence. A beta, the file reports. GUN thinks he will fare even better-- counting on his status as an alpha to not be run off by Dr. Robotnik’s posturing. 

( They want him to approach the doctor with a firm hand and a calming alpha smile. He’s done it before, technically, played at subterfuge and designation politics in the name of the US government. He could certainly do it again, but he knows without stepping a foot in Dr. Robotnik’s lab that it would certainly fail. )

Stone’s first few days on-site are some of the most fun he’s had since he was snapped up by GUN recruiters. The doctor is easily the most fascinating person Stone has ever met. His lab is sleek and impossibly modern, filled with technology that begs to be admired and praised. Every surface has been meticulously scent-marked, to the point that Stone suspects the doctor of using a synthesised pheromone. Maybe the drones come through and mist the place after hours. There is a very strict “no touching” policy on most worktables, equipment, and the doctor himself. Stone commits every rule to memory as he familiarises himself with the lab and his circuit through and around it. 

Dr. Robotnik pays little attention to him, seemingly, while he does his rounds. Stone catches glimpses of him working on a gutted chassis in the centre of the work floor when he passes through the main lab, back always turned, head lowered over the metal carcass suspended on the rig. Sometimes he’s welding, huge goggles pulled down over his face. But Stone feels eyes on him everywhere in the lab. If it’s not Dr. Robotnik’s heavy, critical gaze on his back, it’s the curious, back-lit eyes of his many drones as they drift through the lab on their own missions. More than once, Stone has found a drone hovering just beyond his shoulder as he patrols the grounds outside the lab, a silent proctor as he scans the treeline and keeps himself a moving target. 

Beyond the initial hazing attempt-- the doctor crowding him against the door and purposefully, aggressively scenting him before withdrawing and beginning to recite the lab rules at his slowly blinking visage-- Dr. Robotnik hasn’t spoken more than ten words to him by the end of the first work week. He gets the occasional comment as their paths cross but nothing beyond brief acknowledgment and dismissal. But that’s better than being thrown out on his ass, so Stone doesn’t falter. He continues patrolling, continues keeping his scent as bottled up as he can, continues his attempt at becoming a nearly invisible presence on the outskirts of the doctor’s senses.

The start of his second week is marked by a haphazard assassination attempt (!) that Stone takes joy in putting a bloody stop to. It’s a rare moment where he’s unaccompanied by one of the doctor’s drones, something he’ll later wonder if it was intentional, and the assassin is attempting to scale the shadowed back wall of the lab. Must’ve snuck in past the treeline. Stone watches impassively for a few seconds as the man clambers up onto the awning and begins trying one of the windows of the second floor. His gun is sitting comfortable and accessible at his hip, but he hasn’t had a good fight in too long, and a long-dormant protective urge is just beginning to stir inside his ribcage. He takes another look around. No drones. No view from the driveway. Just a camera up where the third story wall meets the overhang of the roof. 

The would-be assassin doesn’t even realise he has company until Stone levers himself up onto the awning enough to circle a hand around his ankle and yank. He goes down with a choked yell, and Stone drops down to the ground below as the assassin topples over the side of the ledge. He hits the ground with a satisfying thud, and Stone takes pleasure in planting his foot on the cretin’s wrist, pinning it. He crouches to divest the assassin of the gun at his hip, dropping more of his weight on the fragile bones beneath him. Idiot’s still dazed by the fall and the surprise. Stone waits until comprehension finally dawns on him before flicking the safety off of his requisitioned gun and pressing the muzzle against the soft give of the man’s carotid artery. 

“If you scream,” Stone drawls, letting go of his genial, polite mask in order to stare down at the rapidly widening eyes of the man beneath him, “I will blow your brains out.”

The man’s face twists in defiant anger, and his scent flares pungent and offensive. Stone wrinkles his nose even as the man snarls and makes a grab for the gun, which, really? It’s like no one trains assassins anymore. Stone squeezes the trigger as one hand fists around his tie, and the sound of the shot is louder than he would prefer for the relative silence surrounding the lab. He idly hopes the doctor soundproofed his main work room, and isn’t disturbed by the gunfire. Maybe Stone can get this all cleaned up and have his report together by the time Dr. Robotnik bothers to come looking. 

He stands up, flips the safety back on. Deep breath, smelling blood and smoke and fire. Stone shakes himself slightly, letting the mask slide back over him as he leaves the body sprawled in the dirt in order to slip into the lab to search for cleaning supplies. 

He’s just located the first floor maintenance closet when Dr. Robotnik’s voice comes from behind him. Stone turns and stands at attention, nose twitching slightly as the slightly acrid scent of motor oil and myrrh washes over him.

“You were in the Marines.”

It’s not a question, but the doctor doesn’t follow it up with anything else, so Stone inclines his head and replies, “Yes, doctor.” 

There’s the faintest suggestion of a smirk on the doctor’s face. He draws closer and closer to Stone, who tilts his chin up and bares his throat in the most open display of submission he can manage, with the rapidly dwindling space between them. “Did they teach you that in the Marines?” 

Stone blinks slowly, offers that polite, closed mouth smile he’s honed over the years, both curious and reserved. “Sorry?” 

Dr. Robotnik scowls. “Don’t play cute, agent. Are you going to clean up your mess?”

Stone nods, and very bravely stands his ground when the doctor reaches out to straighten his tie, which was still slightly rumpled from being so rudely grabbed. His hands are warm, even through all the layers separating them. Stone takes careful, measured breaths, letting the doctor’s scent fill his senses as he tucks the tie back into place. Instead of taking his hands back when he’s done, Dr. Robotnik jabs a finger against his chest, hard enough to press Stone backwards into the doorframe. “Good. I don’t need GUN thinking I need more of you wretched government dogs sniffing around. One of you is enough.”

And then he turns and disappears down the hall, leaving Stone off-kilter and slightly breathless in his wake. If Stone ducks his head to sniff at his adjusted tie, catching another whiff of the doctor’s usually close-kept scent, well. There’s no one else around to judge him.

[orcasoul]

That Time Again

A/N: Just a little (well it was intended to be little, but, oh well) drabble here because I can't help but think how Din, spending most of his adult life alone when not with the covert, and not knowing much about a woman's cycle, would be embarrassed when he accidentally thinks she's injured and feels bad for embarrassing her too. I think after the initial awkwardness, he'd be such a sweetheart about it ☺️

Warnings: Fluff, mention of periods.

Word Count: 1,333

The hunt didn't exactly go to plan, screw that, it was an epic failure! You and Din had just managed to get away by the skin of your teeth! You'd never been so relieved as when you saw the Razor Crest come into view, Din lowering the ramp by his vambrace. Once safely inside, with the ramp secure, you slump back into the cold steel wall, enjoying the icy chill seeping through your top into your sweaty skin as you catch your breath. "Well that didn't go well," Din panted as he leaned against the opposite wall.

"No shit," You shake your head through a half chuckle, half moan, "So what's the plan, now?" With his breathing finally under control Din stands tall, every bit the confident Mandalorian, even when he's not trying to be. It just naturally oozes from him. "He's scared and desperate now. He knows we're after him, so he'll keep running. I just didn't expect him to have so many men protecting him. But I'll get him, don't worry about that." Raising an eyebrow, you counter, "You mean we'll get him." "No!" came Din's curt and authoritative relpy, "It's too dangerous for you now."

"Din...," you begin protesting but he continues. "I've been doing this a long time, so trust me when I say I have to do this alone. This one just got much more complicated. I can't focus on the target and protect you at the same time. We're lucky we got out in one piece." Reluctantly you agree, but can't help but feel butterflies in your belly at Din's protectiveness of you. It's at times like this that you think, maybe he does feel the same way.

Locking that thought away you push off of the wall and begin to walk away when you hear a modulated gasp and feel Din's gloved hands grip your shoulders, stopping you in your place. "What the-," "You're hurt!" Din's voice quavers as panic grips his chest. You turn your head, utterly confused, trying to see where he's looking. What the hell? He's looking at ...my arse? "What? I'm not hurt. what are you talk-," Oh shit! Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn red as you realise what has happened.

You spin around, slowly backing away, trying your best not to stammer, but failing miserably. "Its n... not what you... you think. I'm... I'm fine." Din straightens, surprised by your weird response. "You're not fine, your bleeding. Let me-," "No!" He stops at your raised voice. "I'll take care of it. Trust me it's nothing." "It's not nothing." Now Din is raising his voice, clearly frustrated which in turn is making things worse.

Maker can't he just let it go? Can the universe do you a favour and open a black hole to swallow you now? He's really going to make you say it, isn't he? "Why won't you just let me help?" Din's asks exasperatedly, walking closer to you as you back away. "Cause it's nothing!' you insist, your stomach in knots. "Stop saying that!" Din blusterd. You drop your head into your hands, pressing the heels into your eyes, embarrassment burning through every inch of you. "For makers sake, Din! It's my period, okay. I've bled through!"

Silence follows your outburst, causing you to look back up at Din, who's stood stock still, if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was a statue. "Oh...," he mumbled, awkwardly. "Yeah... 'oh'," you scoffed. "I... I'm sorry... I didn't mean-," "It's okay," you blurted, right now not knowing what was redder, the blood on your trousers of the blood in your cheeks, "I'm just... gonna... go," you pointed over your shoulder to the fresher. As you shower, you realised that you'd been so eager to escape that situation that you'd forgotten to bring clean clothes with you. "Aw, shit," you grumble to yourself. Well, hopefully he'll be in the cockpit.

You open the fresher door, peaking around carefully. You've already had one embarrassing moment today, you don't need another. To your relief, you're alone. You sigh and look down, and that's when you see the neatly folded pile of clean clothes on the floor, right in front of the door. You smile as you pick them up, taking them with you into the fresher to change. Once you're clean and presentable, you head up to the cockpit, knowing you can't avoid each other on such a small ship. So you'll have to, as they say, suck it up. But when you open the door, your met with an empty room.

"Din?" no answer. "Din?" you shout louder, but still, no answer. That's odd. He never leaves without telling you. Maybe he's just as embarrassed as you? Maybe he can't face you right now? Before you can dwell on it any longer, you hear the ramp lowering. You slide down the ladder to the hull to see Din walking up the ramp with a brown paper bag in hand. He stops a couple of feet in front of you, the atmosphere clearly awkward.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you, Din-," you begin, desperate to dissipate the discomfort between you both. "Please don't apologise," Din lifts a hand to stop you, "I'm sorry. I didn't realise.... if I'd known, I wouldn't have...," Din clears his throat and slowly holds the bag out for you to take. "What's this?" you smile as you take the bag and look inside. Your heart melts at the sight. Inside, there are sanitary towels, tampons, a moon cup, heat up gel packs, pain relief and even a big bar of chocolate.

You feel like crying. Kriff, this man is so sweet and so kind. Could he be any more perfect? If you hadn't already fallen in love with him, you would have now. "Din...," his name leaves your mouth in a whisper, while holding in the tears. You look into his visor, hoping you're making eye contact. "You didn't have to do this. Thank you! This is... so sweet of you." "I wanted to help," he replied, softly. "I didn't mean to embarrass you earlier," he added after a moment. "It's okay," you shrug, feeling the embarrassment melt away by the second. "I think we were both a bit embarrassed."

"Yeah," Din chuckles, his shoulders losing some of the tension in them. He still feels bad about the situation, but seeing your eyes light up at his gift means the world to him, just as you do. Damn it, if only he could tell you how much he loves you. He's fearless in every aspect of his life, except when it comes to you. "Look, I don't claim to know much about 'this'," he emphasizes, "but I want you to know you don't ever have to feel awkward about it around me. We're a team, and if there's anything you ever need or anything I can do to help at this time, you can always come to me, okay?"

Your eyes soften even more and you're sure you're looking at Din like he'd hung the stars right now, but you don't care. You want him to know how much you appreciate his kindness and scincerity. "Thank you, Din. That means a lot." You can't help the beaming smile on your face right now. "You know...," you begin, teasingly, "for somebody who says he doesn't know much about 'this', you sure knew what products to look for."

"Well, I might have asked the lady working in the store if she could help me pick out the best things," Din confessed, in a playful tone. "And this?..." you wave the chocolate in front of his helmet, grinning like a fool. Din shrugged and you just knew he was grinning under his helmet too. "She also said some women have cravings, so I thought, best be prepared." "We're sharing this," you tap the bar against his breast-plate. Din chuckled, shaking his head in amusement, "Whatever you say, Cyar'ika."

[papiliovolens]

Spoilers for up to Ch. 20

This drabble was written as an exploration for Nightmare's motives for Ch. 25, so it will have some hints as to how he will act.

it also hints at more multiversal mechanics going on in the background of everything

This is a glimpse at his interpretation and first impressions of Classic, courtesy of an evil overlord who thinks he knows everything :)

this also became a lot longer than i was expecting, so enjoy 1000 words of nightmare being nightmare

The multiverse was nothing if not predictable.

Regardless of its infinite multitudes, it followed specific patterns. Universes fed off nearby ones to fuel their creativity, forming clusters whose links became jumbled in a heated mess of wired connections. The universes' influences on each other were palpable.

Ultimately, universes could dissolve into basic templates through which each spread its roots into the larger multiverse to cement a place for itself. Thus, despite the multiverse's infinitude, it lacked any carbon copies.

It seemed everyone had a different idea as to why.

So, Nightmare relied on the patterns in each universe- how, regardless of their separation from other universes or how out-of-place they seemed, they acted in predictable manners. It made most missions comically easy once Nightmare conducted a little research. The current state of affairs between monsterkind and humanity, the existence and status of the Underground, and the presence of resets told him all he needed to know.

Even Dream's responses had become expected, although that was more due to his inherent benevolence than anything else.

So, yes- the multiverse was predictable to a reliable degree.

- Until a week ago.

Nightmare planned his missions meticulously. They did not fail. Perhaps delayed, and he occasionally needed to iron out minor kinks, but outright failure was never a factor.

The fact that Dream happened to be in the universe Nightmare chose that day was unfortunate, but it was an easy fix. He sent his men to the Capital with a single order, causing enough panic to draw Dream's attention away, and his plan was back on track.

It worked flawlessly for all of about ten minutes.

Nightmare's goal had been simple. Investigate one of the negativity spikes that plagued the multiverse as of late- the same that had Dream floundering like a fish out of water. For all his supposed wisdom, Dream had failed to realize that the emotional spikes were not the result of any 'affliction' or 'sickness' as he seemed to believe.

So when the spike Nightmare was tracking vanished completely, he had nearly gone into a frenzy, and Dream, unfortunately, sensed his sudden anger. His brother came like a moth to a flame, and Nightmare was happy to turn his frustration to his pathetic brother.

The battle had been going as he expected. The arrival of a Sans was slightly unexpected but hadn't even made a blip on his radar. He begrudingly gave the monster a bit of respect at how they managed to get Dream away from his for a few seconds, but it was child's play to find them and send the Sans off to the pits of whatever hell awaited him.

Oh, the way Dream's face had fallen felt heavenly. His face crumpled like Nightmare had not witnessed in decades, and- yes, he wanted to take a picture to make the moment last forever. The way Dream shook, his frown, the tears brimming at the corners of his sockets, the way his face twisted with the hopelessness Nightmare had always dreamed of-

And then the Sans, whose soul Nightmare had just shattered, threw a bone at his skull.

Nightmare was not ignorant of resets, but the situation screamed foul play. It had been nowhere near enough time for a reset or load to occur, especially since the Sans was from a different universe entirely.

Nightmare could not deny his interest as the Sans reentered the battle and somehow dodged him at every turn. Yes, skeletons tended to have a high tenacity for dodging, but few could bear to stand so close to his aura without collapsing.

Nightmare's memories toward the end of the battle were fuzzy. He remembered his brother finally releasing his fragile hold on his aura, enveloping the forest in its sickly sweet tones. Nightmare responded in kind- flooding the air with negativity to choke Dream out.

Then the Sans, somehow still standing despite the clash in auras, dared to grab him, and then-

Nothing.

Nightmare had not slept in a millennia.

He would have thought the same nightmares he inflicted on others on an hourly basis would fill his dreams, but his sleep was oddly peaceful. No demons nor haunting visages visited him, and he idled in the darkness of his mind for what felt like days.

The multiverse was meant to be predictable. It moved in expected and flawed ways, but ways that could be measured and recorded for future reference.

This Sans was an oddity—an anomaly. A strange mystery in a multiverse Nightmare had already scavenged for everything of interest to him.

There was no record of this Sans, Classic, anywhere until a month prior. It seemed he had fallen into the multiverse out of, quite literally, nowhere. While a universe suddenly gaining access to the rest of the multiverse was expected, what was not was the extent Classic had spread his influence in such a short time.

With Ccino's report, Nightmare wasted little time reaching out to the destroyer and protector. Error had appeared particularly peeved when Nightmare reached out to him, dismissing him until Nightmare uttered Classic's name. The destroyer had gone quite still, seeming to hover threateningly near a crash at the name alone, and a wave of nostalgia flowed over him.

It was a plethora of information Nightmare had not been expecting, and he happily bid Error farewell when he recovered enough to threaten to decapitate him.

Ink, on the other hand, was a dead-end. Getting him to talk was easy enough, but he hardly reacted to Nightmare's probing about Classic, stuck with that annoying blank look on his face. Ink only muttered something about a metal chair, blinked at him, and then greeted him with a child's enthusiasm.

And, of course, there was his brother. From his and Classic's interactions on that day alone, it was not difficult for Nightmare to glean the burgeoning friendship between the two, and the expression that crossed Dream's face at Classic's fake death began to make more sense.

It seemed Classic had undergone a rather unconventional introduction into the multiverse. The more Nightmare heard, the higher Classic raised on his list of utter buffoons.

It was strange. Unexpected. Exciting.

Nightmare had not faced a new mystery in centuries. His studies were his first venture into the multiverse outside of spreading negativity, and it had successfully occupied him for most of his existence. But then things got predictable. Nightmare found that, with enough time, any question at all got boring quickly.

Classic presented a new project with novel results.

And Nightmare was very, very curious.

[lunarw0rks]

I have a request for Ghost where 141 notices a change in Ghost when he can't wait to get home to a loved one but hasn't told anyone about her yet. They even notice that he smells different at times, has hairbands on his wrist, and is distracted more than usual and maybe even happier. Then they finally put the pieces together and maybe even find evidence that he does have a loved one, Thank you :))

『♡』 masterlist ♡ rules ♡ ask box Warning(s): nothing major, mild language, gn!s/o A/N: soap in this fic reminds me of this scene lmao. also, this is more headcanon/drabbles than a short fic, since those have been easier for me to write lately.

─── simon hated it, being in love with you. there was a point where his hyper-awarness had dwindled, leaving him lovesick and distracted. regardless, he's a solid lieutenant, hard and ruthless whenever necessary, but it's the little things.

♦ his street clothes don't just smell of tobacco and his natural musk. there's something else, too. your scent. the shampoo and fragrances that you use, are unmistakable to his co-workers.

♦ it wasn't until he was sitting still long enough to smell it, that he panicked. he had been nose-blind, too occupied with a busy day to notice it until now. this whole time, those who had stood next to him throughout the day smelled it too, no doubt.

─── but Simon had to stay calm, he told himself. he could do that, couldn't he? he's always stone-faced and stoic. should be a walk in the park... right? if he played his cards right, no one would notice, no one would tease him - no one would find out about you.

♦ well, that sentiment didn't last long at all...

♦ it went exactly how he pictured it. soap running his mouth, being chatty and persistent to get a rise out of him. and it worked.

♦ "if I were a detective, I'd say ya been caught red-handed, L.T." soap sneered, to simon's dismay. he hadn't said a word; all he was doing was sitting off to the side picturing coming home to you.

♦ the lieutenant replied, forcing his usual scowl. "go bother someone else, Sergeant. I've got no time for childish games." though, since meeting you, that expression had been more difficult to fake. perhaps it was how he bounced his knee anxiously, how he had his head back while daydreaming, or how he fiddled with his scarred fingers more than usual. simon had failed at being subtle, once again.

♦ soap wasn't going to give up that easily, naturally. "the crime of love. head over heels for someone, aren't you? fell so hard you knocked some sense into your hard head, didn't ye?"

♦ "watch yourself, johnny."

─── next, it wasn't just subtle clues to the lieutenant's dating status. it was cold, hard evidence. the gravest mistake he ever made; forgetting to take off one of the hair ties you handed him the day before. or, subconsciously, he kept it to keep a piece of you with him.

♦ no matter the root of the problem, he was screwed. he had officially gone soft... a little soft, at least.

♦ "ghost, you have yesterday's reports?" price asked, preoccupied with the mounds of work on his desk. simon nodded and reached into the bin on the top shelf, his hoodie sleeve rolling down his arm when he did so.

♦ in truth, price could care less about the dating status of his soldiers. all he cared about was that they were punctual and focused - but something about ghost having someone at home, it amused him.

♦ gaz, silently observed from afar, like always. he never spoke, unless spoken to. he was more shocked than anything. simon was never the type in his mind, let alone to be distracted and leave traces of the unknown lover. but, nonetheless, gaz didn't want to lose an eye, so he decided it best to keep his mouth shut.

♦ surprise, surprise.

♦ soap said something again. "hm, i knew it, L.T. you got the hots for someone at home, got it bad, heh." the iciest glare he'd ever received from ghost, was all he got in return. simon yanked his hoodie sleeve back down as if that was going to clear the memory of his vulnerability.

─── "be careful, sergeant, or you'll be lying in the med bay."

[raven--bones]

lil incubus drabble! got inspired and couldn't help but write it out hehehe

gender neutral mage apprentice reader characters: killer, nightmare (/reader eventually hehe) word count: about 2120 summary: reader practices summoning demons, but things don't quite go to plan.

You have a knack for magic. Something about it just comes easy to you. But refining that talent is still an arduous undertaking. Years of study have gotten you this far, slowly rising through the rankings and you’re at the last and most important stage to become an official mage– summoning. 

Your world is intrinsically tied to the demon realm, a plane of magical beings that can be called upon to fulfill requests by those skilled enough to summon them. There are many kinds to summon and you’ve spent years perfecting the theory behind it all. It was finally time to put it into practice. 

The rules for summoning are simple; follow the instructions strictly, never make a deal with a demon, never break the salt circle, and never catch a demon’s attention.

You had everything you need. Candles, charcoal, herbs. You cleared a nice big space in your little apartment so you can make the summoning circle and protective salt barrier extra big, just in case. You wanted to make sure you get the runes perfect, and you didn’t want the minor imp you were going to summon to be cramped. 

The sun was setting through your window, casting everything in beautiful shades of pink and orange. The perfect time for a quick little summoning, when the veil was starting to thin. So you got to work. 

Your pronunciation was perfect. Your layout was exquisite. If you were being graded you knew you’d have top marks for going by the book.

And yet you made a mistake. Somehow. 

The skeletal demon blinking at you from inside the salt circle is not an imp. Your best guess is he’s a minor incubus, both from the way he’s eyeing the salt at his feet and the scarcity of his robes. He’s decorated rather finely in gold which is unusual for someone of his status, but if he was any stronger than a minor demon he’d surely have gotten through the ridiculously trivial protections you put in place. 

“Um.” You double check your book just to be sure. You’re still on the page for minor imps, the circle is identical to the one you drew, and yet the proof of your mistake is before your eyes. 

The demon’s already lost the surprised look on his face and is grinning at you, boney tail whipping back and forth at his feet. He cocks his skull at you, black ichor dripping from his eyes. The gold chain attached to the cuffs on his horns clinks softly with the movement.

“whatcha got there?” 

You ignore him. You’re still flipping through your notes, desperate for an answer. How did you mess up this badly? 

“aw, summon me all the way here and don’t even wanna chat. i’m hurt.” 

You groan when you finally see it. You can’t believe you made such a simple mistake. You drop to the floor with a huff, sitting cross legged while you sort through the many papers and books strewn about. You somehow copied the wrong incantation. The circle and pronunciation were perfect, but your words were entirely wrong. You make sure to highlight a big red circle around the spell you read and note it as ‘chatty incubus’. 

But… that still shouldn’t have summoned him. If anything it should’ve failed– there should’ve been a little puff of smoke in the circle signaling your error, not an entire incubus standing there despite it. 

The summoning circles are combined with incantations to help focus your mana when summoning, the complex runes and shapes combining into an intricate language that filters your demand into very specific instructions for the realm’s magic to follow. Without the proper circle an incantation should be worthless, your mana too unfocused to express your intent clearly. 

And yet. 

The incubus drops into a crouch, studying you. “you messed up, huh?” 

You look up, finally taking him in. Short but sharp horns, black liquid dripping from empty, half-moon sockets. A red soul hovering in front of his ribs, sharp teeth drawn wide in an easy-going grin. His tail moves back and forth behind him like a mischievous cat’s, the sharp, gleaming gold tip just barely avoiding the salt circle. 

You don’t want to admit your mistake to a demon. You weren’t prepared for anything more impressive than the weakest of imps– even a minor incubus is out of your scope for another few years. They’re tricky and manipulative and fully capable of making deals that humans will regret. 

You shake your head and keep your gaze down. No distractions. You need to get rid of him before you make another mistake and things get really bad. “I’m going to send you back in a moment. I just need to find my notes.” 

The demon whines, “but i just got here. wouldn’t it be easier to just give me a task to fulfill the summons?”

You perse your lips. That is true. Your intent behind this summons was to tell the imp to do something simple so they’d be automatically sent back. Even just asking them to jump up and down three times would’ve worked. But now… you’d rather send him back the official way, with an incantation. You don’t want to misstep and–

“i can give you a better summoning circle. one you won’t find in any lame textbook.” He sounds coy. You shouldn’t trust him. But… you have to admit, your curiosity is piqued. It’s not like him just giving you the circle would be bad, anyway. You don’t have to use it if it seems dangerous.

“Fine. Your task is to give me this ‘better’ circle.” It easy enough to find a spare sheet of paper and pen and pass it to him. “What is it?”

The demon mirrors you, sitting cross-legged and setting the paper down to draw. “it’s just a simpler basic summoning circle. more efficient. totally fool proof.” He says it easily but you don’t trust him. There’s no telling what his motivations are for giving this to you, and if his claims are true it’s not like you can cross-reference it in a textbook. “the protections you silly mortals want are included so you don’t even need to use the salt.”

“There’s no way I’m believing that.”

The incubus shrugs with a wink. “you don’t have to. keep using the salt if you want, it won’t help any.” 

When he passes the paper back to you the charcoal on the ground begins to smoke. 

“ah, looks like our time’s up. it was nice meeting you, mageling. if you ever wanna chat again, you know how to find me~” The deep black portal that opens up at his feet swallows him up before you can even speak, leaving no trace of him after it closes with a snap. 

You breathe a sigh of relief and take a look at his drawing. Sure enough, he drew a crude summoning circle. The runes are all placed correctly, but they aren’t any you recognize. It does look simple, though. You’re surprised to see he included an incantation. This one is written in script you do recognize, though it is decidedly ancient. The older incantations were never your forte. 

The incantation is short, barely longer than the imp incantation you failed to read, but you don’t understand it. You can parse a word here and there, but… surely you’re not actually considering it. But it seems simple.

You could be the first human to use this circle and incantation. The reports you could write on it could become award-winning. Maybe you’ll streamline a whole new method of basic summoning and have your name in the textbooks! It’s worth a shot. If you put the right protections in place, what could go wrong?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Just to be safe you make an extra salt circle. You don’t see any breaks in the first one but you want to be safe. That incubus could’ve shifted it just enough when he was here and you might not have noticed. 

The new summoning circle really is simple. It has just over half of the runes of the basic imp circle, though the interlocking lines and circles are a bit more complicated. The demon’s drawing is crude so it’s difficult to get the angles right, but you’re pretty sure it’s correct. 

The incantation is another matter. The handwriting is terrible and you’re not as familiar with the old script so you do your best to copy it down clearly. If it doesn’t work you can always double-check it with an old dictionary from the library. 

By now you’ve been at this for hours. Your living room is thankfully bright from the ceiling light and all the candles, but you don’t want to keep at this for too long. Things get unpredictable the later you work. The veil thins at night, and especially on the full moon. 

You can see it peeking through your window, though the reflection from your ceiling light on the glass ruins the view. You can do a bit of stargazing after this last attempt for the night.

You double check everything one more time. Two perfect circles of salt, not a single grain out of place. The charcoal circle is pristine and accurate. Your incantation is… probably correct, give or take a letter. At worst it’ll fail and you’ll have to fan the smoke out of your apartment. 

You can do this. 

You haven’t yet taken the more advanced courses where the old incantations get worked into the curriculum–you were expecting to really study the ancient language and script in a year or two–but you’re passable. 

You speak slowly and as clearly as you can, but you still stumble over the words slightly. 

Things look promising as you work your way through the phrases. The candles flicker. You can feel the mana supercharged in the air, coalescing in the center of the circles. At the last word your lights go out, the candles extinguishing, and the charcoal runes on the floor glint with dull reflections of moonlight through the window. 

It’s so dark. You reach out for the switch but your hand brushes against something cold and unpleasant. It moves under your touch, pulling back towards the center of the room and away from you. You take a step back and stumble on a stack of books, tumbling to the floor ungracefully. 

It’s far, far too dark. The shadows around you stretch further than they should, made up of an inky darkness that looks like you could fall into it. You can’t see through the circles anymore. A column of shadows has taken up occupation in them, filling them out to the thin line of salt separating you from whatever it is that you just summoned. 

The darkness blinks at you. A sharp cyan light, far above your head even if you were standing, pins you in place. The shadows move, deliberately, and suddenly you’re able to make out the shapes in the void. Large curving horns– one broken nearly at the base. That single bright eye in a socket like endless void. A relaxed grin of sharp teeth. Broad shoulders and a broad ribcage. Long arms of thick bone ending in large hands tipped in sharp claws. Fine silk robes, brilliant silver jewelry. Digitigrade legs ending in more sharp claws. Shadows curl around him and you realize you’re seeing the silhouette of four massive tentacles coming from his back. 

You watch as the demon takes a step forward, scuffing the salt circle like he didn’t even know it was there. The only thing that could’ve kept you safe is now strewn about at your feet. 

Not that something as simple as salt could save you from an archdemon. There is nothing you can do. You’re helpless.

That sharp cyan eye looks down at the charcoal summoning circle you so painstakingly replicated, then moves back up to the notecard clutched in your hands. He continues to examine your room; the furniture, the stacks of books, eventually stopping on the rough drawing the little incubus gave you on the floor beside you. 

A tentacle picks it up and deposits it in his claws. It looks so much smaller in his hands. He glances at it for only a moment before letting it flutter back to the ground. He puts a hand to his chin and rests the other against his hip, skull tilted ever so slightly as he stares you down.

The look on his face sends a chill down your spine, an icy pit of fear opening up in your stomach. It’s one of the most dangerous expressions to see on a demon. 

“Interesting.”

Curiosity. 

“Very interesting.”

[ranikyani]

The Alias Archives 🎭

A collection of fics featuring Aaron Pierre as a main character, but under a different name, exploring new identities and roles.

💌: Make sure you read warnings before engaging + Take care of yourself while reading, mwah💋

🏡: Return to Daddy's Library or…

💬 Readers Remember: Supporting our writers goes beyond just liking a post! Yes, likes are cool but comments/reblogs and kudos can be incredibly meaningful and make a huge difference! Many talented writers feel discouraged by the lack of engagement and recent foolishness, so let's uplift them by showing appreciation for their work. Don't make our favs beg for a crumb of attention!

✍🏾 Writers, this is a work in progress... but if anything needs to be changed or removed immediately pls lmk.

Status: Completed 🏁 - Ongoing📝 - Hiatus ⏸️

Length: Drabble✨ - OneShot 🎯 - Series 📚 - MiniSeries ⏳- Universe 🌎

Note: Summary will be provided for stories without one included. If anything should be changed pls lmk. I haven't read 1/2 these fics yet... will continue to update as I make progress.

A

B

Back Then ⏳

Character: Isaiah

Summary: Let's start from the beginning...

Author: @hotgrlcece

C

D

E

F

G

H

I

J

K

L

Love Language 📝📚🌎

Character: Jameson Lucas

Summary: Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion)Genie Adesanya (Jayme Lawson) x Ellington “EJ” Dupree (Kelvin Harrison Jr.)

Author: @grlsbstshot

M

My Lover Won’t Answer 🎯

Character: Francis

Summary: a bad thought turned into her worst nightmare.

Author: @zillasvilla

N

Neon Lights 🏁📚🌎

Character: Jameson Lucas

Summary: In the glitzy world of Hollywood, it can be easy to crash and burn under the California sun. Few are more self-sabotaging than R&B singer/songwriter, Jameson Lucas. The only thing the charming playboy is known for more than his long list of lovers is his Grammy wins. Imani St. Cirie, an emotive singer/songwriter herself, is the latest in a long line of women he's wronged but she's determined to different. Imani refuses to let Jameson make or break her. The two A-listers are consistently drawn together by an electric chemistry that neither can deny or easily manage. As common sense pulls them in opposite directions -- friendships are tested, old flames resurface, and new opportunities threaten to tear them apart for good. They must decide if their love is strong enough to withstand the weight of the mistakes in their past. In this industry, dreams can make or break you -- but what happens when love becomes the gamble of a lifetime?

Author: @grlsbstshot

O

Our First Kiss 🎯

Character: Francis

Summary: Mariel makes a confession to Francis, that ends up differently than she expected.

Author: @zillasvilla

P

Q

R

S

Saturn 📝⌛️

Character: John Stewart

Summary: John fails to saves a young woman as her home is destroyed. She’s found among the decaying planet and is taken to Arkham. Later taken to Oa, “Spade” is trained alongside other Green Lantern recruits, the organization secretly hopes to tap into her powers, and Jon becomes her trainer. They begin to blur the lines and when the organization confronts her she learns Jon closeness was because he was instructed to. Spade ices everyone out, the heart break turning her cold. When The Batman Who Laughs begins his terror on another planet, Jon and Spade must work together. Spade keeps things strictly business but Jon plans to do anything within his power to earn Spade’s trust and heart again. 

Author: @keyaho

T

U

V

W

We Belong Together 🎯

Character: Francis

Summary: The news of Francis's death hits Mariel in a way no one thought would happen.

Author: @zillasvilla

When He's Not There 🎯

Character: Terrance (FOE)

Summary: In 2036, you reside in a high-tech home with your wealthy husband, Arlo. One night, a striking 6'3" stranger named Terrence, representing a company focused on off-Earth habitation, arrives. While he engages Arlo in conversation, while your husband is away, you find yourself alone in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Visited by him.

Author: @notapradagurl7

X

Y

Z

[oros-ash3s]

─＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⋆Masterpost ⋆˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊ ─

⟢ Metamorphosis

Status || Drafting stage

POV || Third-person limited, multiple POVs, present-tense

Genre || Post-apocalyptic fantasy

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

Yara had never believed the old myths that her mother had told her about Noroi. The mysterious demonic creatures that dwelled in the shadows and abandoned areas, wreaking death and decay to every place they touched.

Leeches, she had called them.

Yara had always dismissed the myths as nothing but fairy tales, little ghost stories created to scare her and keep her from running out too far at night. But, on the night of her 12th birthday, when her home is invaded and she finds herself face-to-face with the father of all Noroi, she sees her mother’s stories for what they really were: warnings.

From that night on, her entire reality is shattered. Left with an empty house, her only companion being a raven that can’t seem to leave her alone, Yara is stuck. She can’t make herself leave her childhood house, the only home she only knows. With a magical barrier to protect her from the Noroi always prowling outside her house, she spends her days inside, the only place that is safe now.

But as the years wear on and the barrier slowly grows weaker, Yara knows it’s only a matter of time before they finish her off. Just like they had done to her family. She’s suddenly faced with a choice: Stay and wait for the barrier to fail, or venture out into the unknown, despite the danger.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

Content Warnings || Metamorphosis deals with a lot of dark and mature themes, and things such as death, violence, body horror, mental illness, suicide, gore, domestic abuse, and war are included within that. There will be a lot of discussion when it comes to mental illness, the effects of grief, and depression. Though each chapter that has this content within it will be properly tagged with trigger warnings, if any of this subject matter bothers you, please click away.

Themes || Grief, corruption, war, good vs evil, monstrosity, survival, perseverance, loss of innocence, death

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

Taglist || @ohagiwrites @bloodinkandashes @corinneglass @icantthinkofablognameatm @vesanal @inky-anathemata @bioniclechronicles @seastarblue @gr3yhellh0und @aalinaaaaaa @shadow-of-tea-and-tea @robinshandhurts @ieppiq @sugaredparchment @lunaeuphternal @ifmasonbasonwasawriter @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @blackboxwarrior-mkultra @lancedoncrimsonwings @sharkblizzardblogs @cepheusgalaxy @theink-stainedfolk

★ Send an ask or dm to be added or removed from the taglist ★

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

Fragilely, gradually and surrounding, the horse lies naked in the shed / Evergreen anodyne decompounding, flies draw sugar from his head

— “ingydar” by Adrianne Lenker

⟢ Characters

The 7th Sector ||

✶ Yara Reyes

✶ Aster Anderle

✶ Ryuji Fukenaga

✶ Kageko Fukenaga

✶ Odesa Alves

✶ Dior Moroz

✶ Anastasia Claire

✶ Ophelia Dyal

✶ Loretta Malekala

The Magnum Octō ||

✶ Zervos

✶ Aytek Rahmani

✶ Ukiuk Silla

✶ Caoimhe Byun

✶ Alejandro Mamami

✶ Ianthe Duval

✶ Lazarus Lune

✶ Marion Bianchi

✶ Grace

Noroi ||

✶ Apeiron

✶ Nebula

✶ Akane

✶ Solanum

✶ Kintsu

✶ Amaris

✶ Ciro

✶ Dislow

✶ Entith

⟢ Writing

Lore and Worldbuilding ||

Character Introductions ||

Yara Reyes \\ Aster Anderle \\ Ryuji Fukenaga \\ Kageko Fukenaga

Extra Info ||

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

Drabbles ||

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

Playlists ||

Metamorphosis \\ Yara \\ Aster \\ Ryuji \\ Kage \\ Odesa \\ Dior \\ Ophelia \\ The Polycule

Moodboards ||

The Seventh Sector \\ The Magnum Octō \\ Noroi

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

“Who hasn’t ever wondered: am I a monster or is this what it means to be a person?”

— Clarice Lispector \\ The Hour of the Star

[buckiverse]

MASTERLIST!

summaries included | favs are italicized | nsfw is bolded

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE |

-Sylus-

☆ drabble: Does he watch porn—how does he jerk off?

☆ drabble: Don't you ever wonder what's hiding in Sylus's pants?

☆ drabble: Sylus, who has a hidden playful side.

☆ drabble: Sylus, who’s secretly so happy you saved yourself for him.

☆ drabble: you went out to a club, and it took an unexpected turn when you spotted athlete!sylus, the man you can't seem to avoid. Is it a coincidence, or is he just everywhere you go?

☆ imagine: you went on a cruise with Sylus

☆ missing you always: Your marriage to Sylus has been a challenging one because of your long distant status. Sylus is determined to remind you that distance can't diminish what you share. He reassures not only your mind but also your body, reminding you why you're meant for each other.

☆ husband!sylus: headcanons

☆ surrender to you: You suggested a reluctant marriage of convenience due to your struggles in the N109 Zone. Now, Sylus will show you what it truly means to surrender both body and heart to him.

-Zayne-

☆ drabble: Does he watch porn—how does he jerk off?

☆ drabble: Don't you ever wonder what's hiding in Zayne's pants?

☆ lessons: Your childhood best friend, Zayne, had always been there for you, loyal, supportive, and understanding. So, when you realized you had a crush on Caleb, you turned to him for help. Taking it upon himself to be your guide, Zayne offered to teach you a few lessons in love. But as the lessons progress, you start to wonder... was Caleb really the one you wanted all along?

☆ imagine: he calls you a good girl

☆ sweet surprises: you tried to surprise zayne for his birthday, but it failed

-Xavier-

☆ drabble: xavier teaches you to play guitar

☆ drabble: xavier got turned into a cat :(

☆ imagine: you went on a cruise with Xavier

☆ imagine: you mentioned period pain and he readily offered his help

-Rafayel-

☆ imagine: you went on a cruise with Rafayel

-Caleb-

☆ drabble: Does he watch porn—how does he jerk off?

☆ drabble: Don't you ever wonder what's hiding in Caleb's pants?

JUJUTSU KAISEN |

-Nanami-

☆ 12:02 am: Nanami comes home drunk after a hard day at work.

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