#i love the hc which is just that. they are all incredibly cleverer than they make themselves out to be in the show! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vilevampire · 1 year

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idk who those people are would u like to educate me...

GLADLY !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

just to preface this I'll explain what the fuck is going on in mairuma in general first just to provide context bc idk how much you've absorbed by osmosis (also I rmr I told u abt mairuma once on discord but . I don't rmr a single thing that was said in that convo, only that it happened)

buckle up bc this ended up getting pretty fucking long

"mairimashita! iruma-kun" is an ongoing manga and anime series that revolves around iruma, a human boy who got sold by his parents to a powerful demon and started living his life in the netherworld.

this is he. baby boy. his new demon found family enrolls him in demon school, and so while hiding the fact that he is human, iruma starts attending babyls demon school. his new grandpa (who happens to be the chairman of said demon school) puts him in a class for problem children, saying "that way your classmates will catch more attention than you, and you won't be found out (as human)!!!!"

makes sense ? no, of course not, but this is a comedy-focused series, so that's just how it is

iruma and his classmates. they're called the misfits class. I love all of them (except for … one …) dearly and could ramble abt each individual character for hours but for now I am only focusing on jazz and allocer. starting with jazzy my boy jazzy

baby son boy he is just a little guy just a little man he's just a son. jazzy is a character who is seen as cool, clever, unapproachable and mature to most other characters but is actually a huge softie inside.

he's also a kleptomaniac but he doesn't usually steal shit on purpose, it's just habit. if you ask me he's done nothing wrong in his life ever

(irrelevant tangent: jazzy actually has a specific animal theme. can you guess which animal it is ??????? I'm just fucking with you it's impossible to guess, but he's supposed to be snake-themed. the only thing that even suggests that in his design is his forked tongue, but it's. not visible most of the time so it didn't even occur to me that he was supposed to be snake themed until. embarrassingly recently. anyway)

jazz has a terrible older brother (named rock. their names r jazz and rock. like the moosic) who steals from him and belittles him constantly, but he can't fight back because his family values skill above all else, so they consider it his own fault for being vulnerable to stealing. basically "git gud lol"

because of this, jazz longs to be a better older brother than his own, despite not actually having any younger siblings. he becomes attached to cute, defenseless-looking things easily and is weak to people who look up to him and ask him for help. he likes beeing relied on and being there for others. he starts seeing most of his classmates as his younger siblings too

basically he is just a little guy and bc so much abt jazzy reminds me of myself (including his black and red color scheme) I am incredibly attached to him and he's my #2 fave character in the whole series (the first one is … well, you can probably guess)

now about allocer … where do I begin. probably by saying we know little to nothing about him, and not because the author particularly intended him to be mysterious, but just because he doesn't get much attention in the series as a whole. despite being one of the main side characters, he gets sidelined incredibly often. he's forgettable, rarely relevant and overall one of the characters we have least information on

look at him and his goofy lion face. there's no reason for him to be so ignored, it's furryphobia plain and simple.

(side note: over the course of the series his character design becomes increasingly yassified and he lets his hair grow + dyes it so don't mind that he looks slightly different in almost every picture he's in)

regardless I'll do my best to tell what we know FOR SURE 100% CANON CONFIRMED about him and then I'll dwelve into theories and hc territory (all supported by canon info, but still pretty speculatory bc of how little info we have on him in general…)

first of all he is smart. second of all. he reads books. third of all. he scored #1 in all exams. fourth of all … he is smart. that's it. wish I was kidding, but that's what his character revolves around most of the time. he gets outshined by other characters all the fucking time and usually just shows up to spout a proverb or say something related to knowledge and wisdom.

aside from that, his characterization tends to be pretty inconsistent (because the author doesn't give a FUCK about him) but I'll report on his most consistent traits and ignore the . multiple . inconsistencies.

allocer is a reserved character who doesn't talk much about himself (this is intentional at least to some extent, evidenced by the picture above). he seems to be kind of awkward, the way he phrases things tends to be unnatural, too. compare these phrases:

(I'll get to what the fuck is going on in this scene in a second I just need to ramble about allocer first)

jazzy speaks in a much more natural, conversational way, saying "what are you saying…?", while allocer simply says "incomprehensible". when he's not speaking in proverbs and book quotes, he often drops weirdly-worded sentences like that.

there's a few different scenes that help us infer that he's not good at dealing with people and emotions. for example, his fanbook profile lists "women's feelings" as his weak subject. when he gets confessed to he also states it's "abstruse", aka confusing and hard to understand

basically what I'm saying is that he's arospec and autistic-coded and nobody can change my fucking mind ok if anybody wants to argue w/ me on this I hope you've spent at least half the time I have studying every major scene allocer is in like I have. I have lost my entire fucking mind trying to infer ANYTHING conclusive about his characterization out of the NEAR NONEXISTENT CRUMBS canon has given us.

with that out of the way I can finally start talking about jazz and allocer's dynamic ^_^

jazz and allocer first become close when they're assigned to train under the same mentor, general furfur — love this guy btw — before performing in the "harvest festival", a kind of practical exam every first year at babyls has to do.

yet, for some reason, instead of actually training the two, furfur takes them to a bar. jazz and allocer question this, but furfur shrugs it off saying that connecting with adults is part of their training.

spoiler alert: furfur is a little shit and he brought jazz and allocer here to sell them into child labor to pay for his debts with the bar (remember the pictures from a while ago that I used to compare their speech patterns? that was them realizing they were being sold. lol)

and so the two of them r stuck in hell together for the next 3 weeks

(side note #2: I love their matching outfits. they look so cute)

in this hostile environment, a weird partnership forms between them. they learn more about each other. jazz tells allocer about his evil fucked up brother and how frustrated he is that he couldn't see through furfur's bullshit, to which allocer replies he is actually just as upset.

allocer's face isn't very expressive and his voice is often monotone (again, autism…) so jazz is very surprised by this.

AOAOOGUGGGHG LOOKK AT HIS BLUSHY FACE … HE'S SO CUTEEE AGG89R9. I'M normal . I'm ok.

the two of them start working towards a common goal: HUMILIATING FURFUR AND SEEING HIM CRY.

anw long story short they come up with a plan using every dirty trick they learned from the adults at the bar, their plan doesn't fucking work, they get made fun of by furfur, and they're still stuck working for free. lol

but that's how their relationship forms. what I find so fascinating about them is that they have no reason to trust each other given the circumstances, but they still do. they form an unbreakable bond. they complement each other too, one being streets smart, while the other is books smart. the partners in crime ever.

also mairuma has these little after-credits side stories called sukimas and . I will let the video speak for itself bc watching this is what made me start shipping them in the first place. just watch

they have more interactions I could talk about in-depth, but their partnership during the harvest festival arc is the most major. still I'll briefly go over some other jazzllocer moments that make me insane

at some point during the harvest festival, jazz gets disqualified (long story). and though jazz and allocer were working together during it, they were never an official team, so allocer wasn't disqualified with him. still, near the end, allocer states that "there's no point in winning if it's not together (with jazz)" (thinking abt this makes me want to detonate myself like a bomb)

when they're second years, they're put in another exam and in this one each of the misfits is supposed to protect two first year students from the teachers hunting them. jazz's strategy? he entrusted his incredibly important protegees to allocer and confronted the teachers upfront as a diversion. in the end allocer couldn't protect his own first years, but he did protect jazzy's, which earned his buddy a rank up (once again I feel like exploding at this very moment)

3. mairuma has fanbooks and that includes character profiles with some trivia on them, including a "people they are currently paying attention to" section. in jazz's profile, allocer is the first one listed there (meaning he's the one he's paying the most attention to), followed by general furfur and his brother. in allocer's profile, jazz is the first one listed, followed by furfur again and then a teacher he bonded with in a diff arc (if you can't read japanese you'll just have to believe me on this one)

btw despite ALL OF THIS canon interaction, these two r a very rare rarepair. they don't have a romantic ao3 tag bc nobody has ever published a fic w/ this ship. the ONLY fic under their platonic tag isn't even about them, they're just side characters in it. every day this fact alone spirals me into further despair and insanity. I am so fucking unwell literally rotting I am deteriorating flesh and bones losing every ounce of my fucking mind I hope at least ONE person reads this deranged ass ramble and starts to at least consider this ship bc I can't take it anymore they ahve NOOOOO CONTENTTT AAAAOGIGGHHGGO SOMEBODY GET ME OUTTTTT G924488948 gets put down like a rabid animal

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universallychaoticpan · 2 years

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I couldn’t see if you took requests or if they were closed (mobile sucks -_-) so if they are feel free to ignore this, but was wondering if I could have a scenario (or hcs, really whatever you’re most comfortable with) of chuuya with an S/O that has really beat up hands? Like, their hands are really rough, scarred, have callouses, etc.? I play like 7 different instruments and I’m super self-conscious about my hands because of the callouses and whatnot I’ve gotten from playing them

Requests are always open, and I love taking them :) Also, I love this idea so much, it's incredibly sweet. I have various scars/calluses on my own hands so I relate lol- still, I'm sure your hands are beautiful. Like I just think, wow 7 instruments, thats so damn cool. I hope you enjoy, and feel free to send requests anytime!

Objectively, Chuuya Nakahara was a very pretty person; and he knew it. Bright blue eyes and a shock of red hair, lithe and quick as a panther and clever besides. Down to his fingertips, manicured and pristine, he was his own kind of beautiful danger.

And somehow, he loved you.

He'd known you for years; the two of you and Dazai were the unholy trinity of the port mafia once you'd stopped trying to kill each other: laughing like only young people could once the blood was off your hands. And when Dazai had vanished, you'd become closer still. So by the time you were once again at odds, Chuuya's hand in your own was more familiar than it ever had been. Even so, there were still parts of you which you hid away; it was the reason he'd never once seen your hands uncovered.

You see, for as long as he'd known you, the skin of your hands had been painted in scars; your fingers were callused, your palms worn with the weight of your life; it was still hard for you to look at them. But every time you felt the soft skin of his on yours, whenever he made you feel beautiful with the way his lips brushed each fingertip, it flooded you with memory of the first time he had done such a thing; every time, it got a little easier.

You had been alone; January's chill had burrowed deep into you and stayed there; unless you were in the field, you spent your time grumpily shuffling around your apartment. It wasn't that you hated the cold; it's just that after a while, one tires of their feet being constantly frozen no matter how they try to fix it.

Presently, you were huddled on your couch, freezing as a furious rain battered the windows and keeping the room dim. Despite all your blankets being piled on top of you, were were still shivering and miserable; even worse, the joints in your fingers were beginning to ache with how cold you were.

Would it kill Mori to keep this place from turning into a damn meat locker? you thought angrily. Might as well strangle him myself if it gets me close to that fireplace he has in his office. A whole ass fireplace and I'm in here freezing my ass off.

A hurried knocking you startled you from your thoughts; still, it seemed nothing could go your way that day, and, as you were striding to the door with your blanket around your shoulders, the remaining ones on the floor tripped you up and sent you to the cold floor with a thud. The following groan could be heard from the other side of the door; and though he would never admit it in a million years, Chuuya snickered even as he felt his cheeks grow warm at the sound of your voice. The door swung open, revealing you in all your glory: sweatshirt hanging down to your knees, a blanket around your up to your head, and your eyes staring out at him like a very annoyed gnome.

In spite of himself, he began to laugh so hard his ribs began to hurt as you looked on with a scowl; eventually, though, he began to wave you off, and stepped into your apartment without so much as another word.

"Well hello to you too," you muttered. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't pretend to be mad at him for long. "I'm so done with winter."

He snickered, although he couldn't say he disagreed. "Touch my hand, I can't even feel it it's so fucking cold," he answered. "It'll be Mori's own fault if two of his best operatives end up loosing fingers because he keeps it cold as the grave in here."

You did so, hesitantly reaching a hand out and touching his; in another moment, his eyes quickly widened in shock; partially because your hands were even colder than his own, causing him to curl his own fingers around them in an attempt to warm them.

But also because, for the first time since he'd known you, he could see your hands.

He could see them.

Like Dazai, you kept them covered; bandaged or gloved when the colder months set in. You had for years; he had never asked why. And now, when you refused to meet his gaze, quickly pulling your hands back to your lap, he saw why. He saw why when your eyes began to shine with tears at his reaction, as you wrung your aching digits; he saw the scars and the roughened places in your skin, the way you hid them away even now.

You were quiet for a moment, the two of you sitting quietly beside one another in the dim light, the wind howling away outside. when he looked back to you, you caught his eyes for a split second and looked away once more; and then felt the slight warmth of his hand bleed into your own as he gingerly unwound your fingers from one another. You stiffened, but didn't pull away, instead, fixing your eyes on him as he turned your hand over in his. He didn't dare look away, your gazes steady and still, curious and wondering, until he looked down at your palm; you closed your eyes as you felt his follow every line, brush across every callous, and then flutter open to find his when he raised your hand tenderly;

and kissed it.

He kissed your scars and the hardened spots, the rough patches that had made you hurt so, the ones that reminded you of how it had hurt to receive them. He pressed his lips to each one, and you leaned into him slowly, growing closer and closer with every soft touch; closer and closer until neither of you could feel the chill that had surrounded you. Tears still shone, icicle bright on your cheeks, until they too melted away with a hand against your cheek.

Neither of you said a thing; neither one of you looked away. Neither one of you could bear too close your eyes for more than an instant until you had closed the empty place between you, when he guided your hands until they were curled 'round his neck, his own pressing in on your spine, keeping you close to him as he found himself rooted in you.

You'd never felt warmer than you had in that moment. Not when you were being held as though you were all that mattered in the world; not when he was whispering against your lips words that made your scars feel beautiful.

When you felt like all of you, every scar and dip and bend, was a work of art.

#chuuya nakahara x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya fluff #chuuya comfort #he would buy you rings #no im not taking criticism #he would

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inkykeiji · 4 years

Text

i can take you there but baby you won’t make it back

character: dabi | todoroki touya

notes: stepcest (kind of—ur parents aren’t married yet) with dabi-as-touya x a very naïve and inexperienced reader, normal!AU (no quirks, dabi also has tattoos over his scarred + fully healed skin), university!reader, implied yakuza!dabi, excessive use of the words niichan and good, praise kink, fingering, face fucking, title credit = save that shit by lil peep lmao uhhhh yeah i hc dabi as a very intelligent and perceptive individual soooo i feel like he’d be a master at reading a person & their emotions and then adapting his manipulation techniques

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), noncon/dubcon, slight somnophilia, emotional manipulation, toxic relationship, size difference, slight degradation, mentions of drug use

words: 7.1k

part 2.1 | part 2.2

synopsis:

“You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, when you lay awake in your bed, you’ll feel ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Your dad’s been dating Rei for a while—nearly a year, now—when things begin to get serious, and he proposes to her.

She accepts, so it’s not exactly a surprise when she suggests you guys move in with her—she’s got more than enough space, she tells you, it’s just her and her son in that big old house—and your dad seems pretty thrilled about it. This was the next step before marriage, after all.

You like Rei well enough, she’s always been nothing but sweet to you, and anyway, your father’s relationship really isn’t any of your business or concern.

It isn’t that you don’t want to move in with her—her house is in a better part of the neighborhood, a standard detached upper-middle class home, and just a short walk from a bus stop that’ll take you directly to university, which you start in a week.

It’s just…You’re a little apprehensive.

You know she has kids. She mentions them in passing every once in a while, but you can’t for the life of you remember their names, or their ages, or how many of them there are. You know they don’t all live with her, that her relationship with her ex-husband is complicated and rocky at best.

But you’re still surprised to hear that only one of them, her eldest, lives with her. She tells you he’s five years older than you are, that he’s a clever, smart boy, going off on a tangent about how disappointed she is that he didn’t go to university, because ‘he would’ve done so well—he could’ve shone so brightly.’ Something about the way she says that, the way her voice sounds almost sad, makes anxiety turn to lead in your stomach. She talks about him as if he’s already a lost cause, but he’s only in his mid-twenties, isn’t he?

You understand the moment you see him. The man standing in front of you as you shift from foot to foot unsurely in the foyer of this unfamiliar house is about as far from what you anticipated as he could possibly be.

He’s tall, skin pale as moonlight, with jet black hair and the most stunning blue eyes you’ve ever seen. But that isn’t what captivates you. It isn’t the lip ring curled around his bottom lip snuggly, and it isn’t the tongue piercing you’re about to find out he’s hiding in his mouth, either.

Every inch of the exposed skin of his arms is covered in intricate, seamlessly flowing tattoos—or, for a moment, you thought it was tattoos, plural. Upon closer inspection, you realize that each arm is actually covered in one giant tattoo, giving a new definition to the term ‘sleeve’. It’s all black ink, not a splash of colour anywhere, depicting an extremely detailed and anatomically correct mechanical arm, complete with what would’ve been joints, ligaments and bones in the form of wires and steel.

The tattoos extend onto the tops of his hands, made to look as if surgical staples are peeling his skin back to reveal the robot beneath. This same tattoo continues up his neck, along his jaw and onto his cheeks, all the way to his bottom lip, spreading across his entire face and disappearing into his hairline and onto his ears. Finally, there’s a small portion of the tattoo underneath his eyes, the surgical staples lining the edges of the face tattoos, too.

It startles you—you’re not necessarily scared, you just…weren’t expecting that. But there’s no denying the rush of breath that involuntarily escapes your lips as your eyes search his face, raking over his body in a brazen way that should make you feel shameful, travelling back up to find him smirking smugly at you, raising an eyebrow as your eyes meet again.

The look in his eyes tells you he knows, knows what you’re thinking about, knows how undeniably attracted you are to him, and scalding heat floods your cheeks.

He chuckles a little, which does nothing but add insult to injury, and sharp anger slices through your chest at the way that you stomach absolutely drops at his gravelly voice. You can’t believe yourself, can’t believe your body is reacting and responding so readily to this man—this stranger.

He introduces himself as Touya, in that rough, deep voice that forces a jolt of electricity to run through your veins. You idly wonder what your name would sound like on his tongue, how it might sound if his voice dropped to a growl, find yourself stuck thinking about this for the rest of the night.

✰ ✰ ✰

To your disappointment, and as much as you are unabashedly interested in him, you don’t interact much with Touya for your first few weeks in the house—in fact, you barely see him at all.

This only piques your curiosity about him more, finding that you’re unable to tear your eyes from him on the rare occasion that you are in a room together. He catches you staring every single time, and he has the audacity to chuckle to himself and shake his head when his gaze meets yours, your eyes quickly darting away and cheeks burning at his laugh.

You begin gathering little tidbits of information about him, purely sourced from interactions you witness in the house, desperately praying for something that’ll give you an opportunity to start a conversation with him.

Your efforts prove fruitless when, almost a month and a half since you moved in, you’ve still only spoken a handful of words to him. You do learn a bit about him through observing, though.

You discover that he’s a smoker, which really doesn’t come as a shock at all. Marlboro’s are his favourite, and he’s always got a pack in his back pocket or rolled up in the short sleeve of his t-shirt. He must have them imported—Marlboro’s are incredibly rare to find all the way in Japan.

Touya must have a lot of things imported.

You find out that every other Thursday, Touya discreetly stuffs an absurdly large wad of cash—all composed of ten-thousand-yen bills—into his mom’s hands, forcing her fingers to curl around it. She fights him on it, every time, but he’s firm and adamant that she take it. It always ends with Rei giving him a small, watery smile, Touya pressing a kiss against the side of her head and murmuring that he loves her.

After you witness this interaction for the first time, you begin to notice that, while the house looks relatively normal on the outside, it is stuffed full of luxury on the inside. Flat-screen TVs each complete with full entertainment systems, state of the art appliances that are somehow up to date with all of the latest trends (including a smart fridge—absolutely ridiculous), custom made furniture, ornate rugs, a housekeeper that drops by every Sunday…

You have no idea what he does for work, but you think you’ve got at least some sort of idea when you catch him one night, just past 2AM, exiting his room and using a thumb to brush excess white powder off his nose. His eyes catch yours, pupils blown and shining in the low light, and he smiles darkly at you, winking once as he walks away.

You don’t ask—no one ever does.

You don’t ask about the crimson splattered on the toe of his boot, or why he sometimes smells metallic, like copper, the strong scent wafting after him and invading the halls as he stalks leisurely toward the bathroom. You don’t ask why he leaves the house at odd hours in the night, and you definitely don’t ask about the soft clinking and clicking you hear through the thin walls every so often while he cleans his gun at 3AM.

You’re not sure if it’s really any of your business, anyway. So you stay quiet, and continue to wait.

The opportunity finally comes one Wednesday in October, two weeks before Halloween, when you’re in the kitchen after school busy fixing yourself an afternoon snack. Touya comes home uncharacteristically early—you rarely see him before 10PM, so his entrance scares you, and you jump a little.

“Sorry,” he murmurs as he passes by behind you, just an inch too close, just enough so you can feel his body heat radiating off of him.

“It’s fine,” you say quietly, shaking your head a little and trying in vain to stop your hands from trembling as you spread peanut butter across a piece of bread.

You can feel his eyes on you, and it makes you nervous, makes your skin crawl in a way you’ve never felt before. He laughs a little at your struggling, leaning against the counter next to you and crossing his arms over his chest.

“You don’t have to be so nervous around me, y’know,” he says with a smirk, eyes glittering at the way your lips part in surprise, your breath stuttering a little. “I’m your niichan after all, aren’t I?”

You hadn’t even considered using the honorific until he himself uses it.

Your hands freeze, hovering over your plate, and you look over at him slowly. “You…Want me to call you that?”

“You can, if you’d like,” he says smoothly, nonchalantly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It makes no difference to him, he tells you, but when he finally looks back at you, you think you can see it in his eyes—a sharp, small glimmer of…of something. Something that makes your stomach twist in a way you can’t decide if you like or not.

But this is it, you think, this is your opening to finally begin talking to him.

So you do. And the smirk he gives you the first time you address him by the honorific, voice quivering slightly as you ask him where Rei normally keeps the blender, is nothing short of predatory.

“It’s on the top shelf. It’s too high for you, though,” he says, voice so sickly sweet it almost sounds mocking. “Let niichan get it for you,”

It isn’t, but you let him get it for you anyway.

And he knows—knows he’s got you the moment you gasp at the honorific leaving his lips, trying to hide it behind your hand, nodding quickly and squeaking out a thank you.

It starts after that. He begins playing with you; a sick, perverse game of cat and mouse, hunter and hunted, and you play your part perfectly.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, if you said it didn’t send wicked sparks of excitement shooting up your spine and an intense fluttering in your stomach.

And it starts slow. It starts with gentle pet names—honey, sweetheart, princess—and fingertips trailing down your arm as he passes you. It starts with a large hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you—out of the house and into his car, out of the kitchen and into the living room, out of the hallway and into his bedroom—and with little pecks on your lips stolen when no one’s watching, quick kisses that leave you feeling exhilarated despite their chastity.

Suddenly, he’s home a hell of a lot more. He’s sitting too close to you on the couch while you curl up with a textbook, his thigh pressed against you and flesh burning hot through his black jeans. He’s joining the family dinner a few times a week, idly hooking and unhooking his ankle with yours beneath the table while smirking at you from across it.

Suddenly, he’s asking you if you need a ride to school, or if you need someone to pick you up. You don’t, you tell him, the bus is just fine, but he insists. It’s what niichans do, he says. He wants to take care of you, he says.

Who are you to deny him that, really?

✰ ✰ ✰

The first time you experience Touya angry is about a month after the inciting incident, when he catches you walking home with a few of your university friends.

He had texted you earlier that day, telling you that he—very regretfully, he said—would be unable to pick you up from school this afternoon because ‘something had come up’.

You didn’t question what it was—you knew he’d lie even if you did. So you accepted it obediently, reassured him that it was fine, that you’d find another way home.

You’re pretty sure if you had told him that you didn’t have any extra change on you for the bus suddenly whatever important thing that had ‘come up’ which so desperately needed his attention wouldn’t be so urgent anymore. But you didn’t want to be a bother, or inconvenience him, so you say nothing.

Two friends decide they’ll accompany you on your walk home, so you aren’t lonely, they claim. Normally, the walk from campus to your house is about thirty minutes, but that day it takes you nearly an hour, wasting time goofing around and walking slowly as you talk idly.

Touya’s already pissed that it’s taken you so long to arrive home, that you’ve ignored all of his extremely considerate texts asking if you’re alright, but when he sees you squished between two boys, giggling as the three of you stumble up your driveway—he’s fucking fuming.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asks, voice calm and monotonous, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Your head snaps up—you swear he wasn’t there just a second ago—blood running cold.

His stance is relaxed, arms crossed loosely over his chest, lazily raising an eyebrow as your wide eyes meet his. Technically, the only indication that he’s furious is the blazing blue fire in his eyes, but your friends can read the tension in the air surrounding him, shuffling a little closer to you. This minuscule action does not go unnoticed by Touya, sharp jaw clenching once.

“You had niichan worried,”

You’re frozen a few feet away from the porch, unable to find your voice, to move your legs, to breathe at all.

“I didn’t know you had an older brother,”

Your eyes do not leave Touya’s as you speak, the words hoarse. “Oh, we’re—”

“Yeah,” Touya bites, irritation finally bleeding into his voice. “She does,” his eyes float back to yours. “Come here, princess,”

Your body snaps into action, moving automatically before you can even comprehend it, allowing Touya to tuck you into his side the moment you reach him.

Your hands are shaking, but you have no control over them as your fingers curl in his white t-shirt, clinging to him. To your surprise, the arm around your shoulders hugs you closer in response, thumb caressing you.

“Thanks for making sure she got home safely,” he tosses over his shoulder, managing to make the simple sentence sound like an insult, tone bordering on patronizing, while he turns on his heel, marching you both inside.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you’re rushing to say the moment the front door shuts behind you two, Touya’s arm still wrapped firmly around you.

He looks down at you coldly. “Don’t you dare pull shit like that again,” he tells you, eerily calm voice forcing spikes of icy dread up your spine. He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in as his eyes bore into yours. “You had me worried sick,” he breathes out then, squeezing you again. You’re surprised in the sudden change of tone, feeling your chest swell at the thought of him fretting over you, a small smile gracing your lips.

“I…I did?”

Touya’s eyebrows furrow, as if he’s offended at your questioning, mood morphing in the span of a second. “Of course you fucking did,” he spits like you’re stupid, arm dropping. “Do you ever check your phone?”

“Wh-What?”

Touya rolls his eyes. “Check your phone,” he calls out airily as he begins walking into the kitchen, shaking his head a little, disappointment rolling off him in waves.

Hastily fishing your phone out of your bag, you’re astonished to see eight texts from him and three missed calls. You scroll through the texts quickly, each one making you feel more nauseous than the next. ‘Is everything okay? You should’ve been home by now’; ‘Please answer me, princess, you’re making your niichan nervous’; ‘Where are you? Answer my fucking calls already’. Guilt turns sour in your mouth and you hurry after him.

“I-I really am s-so sorry,” you force the words out, unsure as to why there are suddenly tears stinging your eyes. He isn’t even doing anything—his back is facing you as he nonchalantly begins brewing a pot of coffee.

But the thought of him being upset with you, of losing his approval, sends a sharp pain searing through your chest.

“Are you?” he asks, and although his voice holds no malice in it, it causes your whole body to stutter with a harsh breath.

“Yes,” you whimper out, latching onto his arm and tugging in an attempt to draw his eyes to yours, to see how regretful you are, the remorse written across your face. “I should’ve…That was so careless and inconsiderate of me,”

“It was,” he agrees simply, voice still light, as if he’s discussing something as mundane as the weather. “But you’ll never do it again, right?”

“Right,” you agree readily, breathing out the word before you even realize what you’re agreeing to.

“Tell niichan you’ll never worry him like that again,” he finally looks over at you.

“I-I’ll never worry you like that again, niichan, I pr-promise,”

His eyes hold yours for what feels like eons, before he finally twists his arm out of your grasp, instead wrapping it around you and tugging you against his body. You stay staring up at him, eyes wide and obedient, breath bated as you wait for your next order, so pliant and ready to serve him.

“Good,” he whispers, eyes finally softening, and you feel like you can breathe properly again. His free hand cups your face, thumb running along your lips, then your chin, then your jaw. “You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, you’ll lay awake in your bed, feeling ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

✰ ✰ ✰

He begins to trust you more. You meet his friends, each one terrifying in their own right. Jin is alright, although his brain is fried from drugs, and he talks to and contradicts himself a lot, earning the nickname Twice from Tomura.

Tomura horrifies you to your very core—a tall, lanky man with sunken red eyes and sickly pale skin who looks like he’s one bad day away from death—and Touya tells you very sternly to stay away from him.

A university student not unlike yourself, Keigo is your favourite. Keigo is the most normal, with his wild blonde hair and enticing gold eyes that always look like they’re playfully holding the secrets of the universe just out of your grasp.

Keigo’s brain is always going a hundred miles a minute, although you’d never guess it with his trademark lazy drawl, speaking as if he hasn’t got a care in the world. But he can always keep a conversation going, knows exactly what to say to avoid awkward silences or lulls in the discussion, and you appreciate that. You think he’s so cool—he has so much knowledge about the oddest things, everything and anything, ‘a walking encyclopedia’, Tomura calls it, and it fascinates you to no end.

It’s the speed, Touya tells you one night while you’re laying on the couch, your body on top of his, the pads of his fingers dragging down your back in rhythmic strokes. Speed is Keigo’s drug of choice, you find out. Speed is the reason why Keigo knows as much as he does.

“Sometimes he doesn’t sleep for days,” Touya says. “That’s how he has all the time to memorize everything he knows—though that big overactive brain of his plays a part in it, too,”

The thought inexplicably makes your heart sink in your chest, and you don’t say anything else. If Touya notices your shift in mood, he doesn’t mention it. You idly wonder what Touya’s drug of choice is, but you’re too scared of the answer to ask.

✰ ✰ ✰

It’s only a few nights later when you wake with a violent jolt, breathing laboured as you absentmindedly press your palm to your chest, trying in vain to calm your racing heart.

A nightmare.

You sit in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of your own harsh breaths echoing off the walls and debating what to do next. A minute later, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, wincing when your bare feet touch the cold hardwood, and pad down the hallway.

You try to trick yourself into believing that you aren’t using this purely as an excuse to spend the night with him. It really was so scary, you reason with yourself, it really has made you all shaken up…

Who are you kidding? You didn’t even attempt to go back to sleep.

You’ve been in his room plenty of times now—sitting daintily on his bed as he introduces you to new music, new movies, new books. Stuff that reminds him of you, he says, stuff that he thought you might be interested in. You’re grateful for it; there are so many things you’ve learned in the short time you’ve known him.

That isn’t all, though. There’s no denying the warmth that spreads through your body, that tiny excited flutter in your chest, when he calls your name and interlaces your fingers, leading you toward his room and telling you he’s got something to show you.

Yes, you’ve been in his room plenty of times now. But this is the first time you spend the night in his bed.

He’s still up, soft golden light leaking from under his closed bedroom door. Your hand quivers a little as you lift it to rap your knuckles against the wood. He appears in the doorway a moment later, leaning against the frame in a black t-shirt that looks like it’s a size or two too small for him, riding up to reveal a teasing sliver of milky skin, tips of his hipbones jutting out from the waistband of his plaid pajama pants.

“Princess? What is it?”

You didn’t realize you were staring, and you jump a little at his gravelly voice.

“Oh. I, um—Well, I just…had a nightmare a-and I can’t sleep,”

You can barely look him in the eyes as you say it, your cheeks burning. You both know it’s a lie.

But he plays along.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, drawing you into his arms, into his room, into his bed.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs as he turns on his side to face you, propping his head up with a hand. “Poor thing. Was it a bad one?”

Your mouth feels like its been stuffed with cotton, rendering you incapable of speech, tongue dry and sluggish. You nod in response, heat seeping into your cheeks again at just how loudly your heart is thumping while you roll onto your side. There’s only a few inches of space between your bodies now, his hot breath fanning across your face as he speaks again.

“Do you want niichan to help you forget about it?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, and you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes searching his. Your thighs squeeze together at the way his voice has dropped an octave, low and husky, familiar heat pooling in the depths of your belly. He waits patiently, lifting a hand to caress your cheek, then runs his fingertips down your bare arm, goosebumps following.

Finally, you nod. You think you see the corners of his lips quirk up into the slightest hint of a smirk, but you blink, and it’s gone.

“Here,” he whispers, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. Hand cupping your jaw, he tilts your face up and slots his mouth against yours.

You’ve kissed before, of course—in his bed, in yours, on the living room couch, on the kitchen counter with his hips shoved between your thighs—but this…this feels different.

These are kisses with intent, with purpose, with a goal in mind. These are kisses that keep you distracted—slow, soft, messy with saliva—as his hand slips down your body and between your thighs.

Your gasp breaks the kiss, wide eyes blinking up at him then fluttering shut as he brushes a knuckle against your clit. He hushes you, nimble fingers spreading your folds before he drags them up your slit, huffing out a laugh at how wet you already are.

“Were you thinking about something naughty before?” he gasps mockingly, sliding the pads of his fingers back down as he speaks.

His hand withdraws from your shorts and he orders you to lift your hips, tugging the waistband down your thighs. You squirm a little, forcing them further down your legs until you free yourself of them completely, eyes gazing up at him again, awaiting your next command.

Legs part dutifully as his hand travels back down to the apex of your thighs, pushing a finger into your soaking pussy.

It’s slow at first, thrusting leisurely with his middle finger a few times and loosening you up a little before adding his ring finger. Sapphire eyes watch his motions, captivated by how your eager little cunt sucks his fingers in selfishly.

“Look at that, huh?” he breathes, looking down at you. “Such a pretty little pussy you’ve got,”

You open your bleary eyes to peer at yourself, mesmerized by the way his fingers are pumping in and out of you, glistening in the dim light of his bedroom. He curls his fingers and you inhale sharply, hips twitching toward his palm.

“Oh?” he chuckles darkly, knuckles nudging the spot again. “Did niichan find something, baby?”

You don’t know, you’re not sure, you try to tell him, but all you can seem to manage is pathetic little whines while you nod your head.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he’s asking as the pads of his fingers tap against that spot, your entire body jolting.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper out, a little breathlessly. “But it’s never felt like this,”

“Aw, baby,” he coos, and it’s so condescending. “Then you weren’t doing it right, sweetheart,”

He quickens his pace, chuckles at the way you try to desperately fuck yourself on his fingers at such an awkward angle.

“Poor little thing, can’t even get herself off properly,” he tsks. “You need your niichan to do it for you, don’t you?”

Soft whines spill from your throat as you nod eagerly, your stomach coiling tightly.

“One day,” he breathes, curling his fingers with a vengeance this time, your hips rolling up off the mattress. “When we have the time, I’ll teach you how to make yourself feel so good,”

He’s talking too much. You want to tell him this, tell him to shut the hell up, but every time you try to speak he presses the heel of his palm to your clit and grinds against it, effectively scattering all of your thoughts, soft mewls of niichan the only sound escaping your lips.

Can’t deny his voice is fucking hot though, a form of foreplay all on its own.

And he knows this, can read you like a goddamn book, especially when he’s got his fingers two knuckles deep inside of you. He can feel it, he tells you. You don’t even need to speak; he can feel your thoughts when his voice drops an octave and your cute little hole flutters, when he chuckles and your pussy clenches around his fingers—a slut for his voice, aren’t you?

“Pretty baby, you can’t do anything but nod dumbly, can you? Been fucked stupid by my fingers alone, huh?”

Your head barely moves, lost all control of your body by this point, only able to whimper in response.

“Gonna come all over my fingers, pretty girl?” the knuckle of his thumb begins grazing your clit in quick strokes. “C’mon, make a mess for niichan,”

And it’s pathetic, how quickly your body obeys. Your pussy squeezes once, twice, three times and you’re gushing all over his fingers, juices collecting in his palm, running down his wrist. You’re embarrassed—you’ve never cum that much before, have you?

Breathing still ragged, you nuzzle into his sheets, partially hiding your face from him. Nothing could hide the involuntary grin that forms on your lips, though. Arms snake under your boneless body, tugging a bit.

“Oh no, baby, we aren’t done yet,” Touya’s saying while he hoists you up, letting you lean heavily against him.

Head tilting in confusion, your glazed eyes find his. “Wh-What?”

He looks down at his lap and your gaze follows, a tiny whimper slipping past your lips at the bulge straining against his pants. “Doesn’t niichan deserve a nice reward for helping you forget that scary dream?”

Eyes darting back to his, you nod slowly, whispering out, “Yes. But—But…” But you’re hesitant; you’ve never done anything like this before. Shaking hands reach for the waistband of his pants, beginning to pull them down but freezing when the head of his cock peeks out.

Touya sighs. “Come on, you wanna be a good girl for niichan, don’t you?”

Of course. Of courses you do.

Then he wants you to touch him, he says. He’ll help you; he promises.

“But you gotta get it wet first,”

You ask how, and he laughs at you. “With your tongue, stupid,” he tells you.

He instructs you to kneel on the floor and you comply immediately, trembling legs folding beneath your body as you situate yourself between his knees. He inches forward on the bed a little, shuffling himself to the edge and caging you between his thighs. Bringing his cock close to your mouth, he taps the head against your closed lips.

They part instantly, obediently, his eyes flashing with something sinister as you take the head into your mouth and suck hesitantly, big eyes staring up at him waiting for approval.

He curses, his hips twitching ever so slightly, skin stretched taut over bony knuckles as a hand forms a fist in the sheets. Starting with kitten licks at first, the tip of your tongue barely touches him, tracing veins, then begins to gain more confidence as he groans a little, telling you what to you, that you’re doing good, so good for him.

Watching him through thick lashes, you have the audacity to look bashful as your tongue laves around the shaft, drenching it in saliva. A hand tangles in your hair and yanks, pulling you off his cock when he decides it’s sufficiently wet enough. Long fingers encircle your wrist, bringing your hand to form a fist around him.

“Like this,” he says, jerking your hand up and down.

You’re terrible at it, movements awkward and uncoordinated, but in that moment he doesn’t really care. He’s irritated a little, wondering out loud how anyone can be bad at handjobs while a large hand wraps around yours and forces you to speed up. Bad? Your heart sinks at the small three letter word, a hard lump forming in your throat, looking as though you may start crying.

But he cums quickly after that, ropes of searing hot white painting your cheeks and face. You watch him the entire time, panting a little, lips parted slightly and your tongue darts out to lick them, tasting him.

He laughs at your bitter reaction, and it’s such a patronizing sound.

“Don’t worry,” he says, collecting the cum off your face and forcing his fingers into your mouth. “Someday I’ll stuff your throat full of it.”

✰ ✰ ✰

You can no longer mention needing—no, wanting—anything around him anymore, because within the next few days it’s sitting pretty and perfect on your bed, propped up against your lace trimmed pillows.

He’s so good to you; you should be grateful you have such a generous niichan, one who eats you out and spoils you with gifts. You’re so spoiled.

And he tells you this, in the dead of night when you wake to find him shoving his cock into you, snarling a little at your soft whines of protest.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warns. Just be a good girl and take his cock. He does so much for you, can’t you be good for him?

Yes, yes, you want to be good for him, you want to be the best for him.

By this point you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night with his head between your thighs, prepping you to take him.

“Stay sleeping, baby,” he’ll tell you, words whispered into your hair as his cockhead nudges against your hole.

As if you could ever stay sleeping when only a few minutes later he’s pounding you into oblivion, large hand clasped over your mouth so tightly his blunt nails are digging into your cheek, so hard that it’s yanking your head back, neck beginning to ache.

He tells you to be quiet, “You don’t want anyone to hear, do you? Then we’d have to stop, and you don’t want that, right, sweetheart?”

You don’t, you whimper. Of course you don’t—you want whatever he wants, you want to be his perfect little baby, you want to be told how good you take his cock, the praise mumbled against your skin in a low, strained voice right before he fills you with cum.

✰ ✰ ✰

He disappears for a few days near the end of December. You have no idea where, Touya answering your curious texts with playful quips at first before he grows tired of it and tells you to stop fucking asking.

But eventually, he returns.

The front door slams shut and your body flinches with a jolt of excitement. Adrenaline spikes your blood when you hear his heavy boots colliding with the hardwood, getting louder, louder, louder…

He passes right by you, not glancing at you at all. Moments later, the sound of water hitting the tiled shower wall echoes down the hallway.

And you wait. Patiently, you wait, like the good little girl you are, not daring to move a muscle. Eventually he re-emerges, hair still damp, a few strands sticking to his neck.

With a groan, he collapses on the couch next to you, flopping his head into your lap and gazing up at you with glazed, blown sapphire eyes.

“You’re high,” you say softly, not accusatory, just an observation. He giggles a little.

“So what if I am?”

“What did you take?”

“Oh,” he gasps mockingly. “Oh no, baby, I can’t tell you that,”

Why? The question is burning on the tip of your tongue, and you can tell that he’s anticipating that to be your next response, but you bite down on your bottom lip, holding it in. You know his answer already, can practically hear his patronizing voice—Because good baby sisters aren’t supposed to know about stuff like this.

“Can I try some?” you ask instead.

All of the mirth fades from his eyes in an instant, and he moves in a flash despite his inebriated state, so quick you can barely tell what’s happening. His large hand wraps around your bicep in a bruising grasp, pulling you towards him as he sits up, his face an inch away from yours.

“Absolutely fucking not,” he spits, cobalt eyes blazing and voice rumbling against your chest. “And if I so much as catch wind that you’re using, have a mere feeling that you’ve tried it—even just once—I’ll slaughter you and the fucker you got it from. Do you understand me?”

Surprised tears spring into your eyes and you nod jerkily, body beginning to tremble as your breath gets caught in your throat. You want to tell him that you didn’t mean it, honest, you promise!; that you were just kidding around, you swear!, but you can’t, voice mangling itself with the hitched little breaths on the back of your tongue.

He growls at your silence, his grip around your arm tightening and you cry out, terrified that he might actually crush the bone with his bare hand.

“Say, yes Touya, I understand,”

“Y-Yes Touya, I understand,” you manage to stutter out, voice returning only at the command of a direct order, tears spilling over and rolling down your cheeks in pairs. His eyes search your face for a moment, his features contorted in fury, before he sneers at you, squeezing your arm once then roughly letting go, shoving you away from him.

You fall backward against the arm of the couch, heart thumping so vigorously you’re sure he can hear it. He groans, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, exasperated.

“Fuck,” he sighs, eyes opening to glare at the ceiling. “You’ve ruined my high,”

You stare at him, breath coming out in uneven huffs, clinging to the couch.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, terrified to move lest you upset him more.

He’s silent for a moment, still staring up, until he lolls his head to the side, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. A small smirk spreads across his face.

“C’mere,” he says, nodding his head a little in indication.

“Wh-What?”

“C’mere,” he repeats. “Come make it up to me,”

Your body’s moving before you’ve given it permission to, crawling into his lap obediently, thighs on either side of his hips. His smirk widens, and you love it—you love how much control he has over you without even trying, you love the way a quiet whimper slips through your lips as his large hands begin kneading your flesh, running up your legs and grabbing your ass.

Lips trail up the column of your neck, and you tilt your head back, a silent plea for more. You can feel the way his lips curl into a grin against your skin, nipping at it a second later.

“So, how you gonna make it up to me? Huh?” he shifts his hips under you, pressing his hard cock into your clothed core. You whine a little, grinding against him.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” you breathe out while sharp teeth mar your collarbone.

“The hell you waiting for? Show me,”

You begin sliding down his body and he pushes on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees between his spread thighs. He watches you through half-lidded eyes, gaping pupils outlined by a thin ring of blue.

Holding his gaze, you lean forward with your pretty little tongue hanging out and begin licking along the straining bulge, tracing it slowly, the denim rough against your sensitive muscle. You relent though, lapping at his clothed cock in slow, long strokes, and his jeans are just thin enough for you to feel him pulse in response.

A giggle bubbles up past your lips, muffled by the denim, already beginning to feel heady as you pull simple reactions from him. Your mouth forms a cute little ‘o’ and you suck on him the best you can through his jeans, drooling all over his lap and soaking through the material.

The hand in your hair tightens into a fist, yanking hard and pulling your mouth away. “Stop fucking teasing,” he warns, a hint of something ominous in his voice.

You obey, because you always obey, tiny fingers working to quickly unbuckle his belt, pop the button, yank down the zipper. He aids you, lifting his hips and allowing you to tug his jeans down his thighs enough for his cock to spring out.

His own hand wraps around the shaft, you pausing mid-action as you reach for it.

“Open,” he demands, your dutiful lips parting immediately, letting him push his cock into the warm, wet cavern.

He sets a brutal, punishing pace from the start, refusing to give you a single moment to adjust. His other hand fists in your hair, forcing you to stay still as he rams his cock down your throat.

Reflexive tears burn your eyes, blurring your vision. You blink quickly to clear them, desperate to watch him, to catalogue all of his micro-expressions and the sound of his voice as he grunts out your name, to burn it into your mind, etch it into your very soul.

Touya’s head falls back against the couch, Adams apple bobbling with his rough whimpers, long neck and sharp collarbone on full display. If your mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, you’d love to lick up his smooth skin, to trace the dips of his collarbone with your tongue and sign your name in brilliant splotches of blue and purple.

You’re gagging around his cock now, starting to feel lightheaded and struggling to inhale enough oxygen. The ache in your jaw is beginning to spread, but you ignore it, stretching your mouth open wider, to take more, to be good for him, to make him proud. It’s worth it for the hoarse, throaty moans you’re pulling from him, to hear your name shuddered out, followed by a breathy, “Fuck,”

He forces hot cum down your throat a moment later, and you choke on it, sputtering around his cock, throat spasming as it tries to force the foreign object out. He won’t let it, though. He holds your head in place, nose pressed against his pubic bone, and you can do nothing but take it, like a good little girl, like he tells you to.

But it’s all worth it. It’s all worth it, to hear his broken whines like that, to have him look down at you and pull your hair and tell you you’re good, so good for him.

And you’re sobbing by the end of it, gasping for air the moment he lets go of you, wheezing violently as your head collapses against his thigh.

“Did I—” you cough, voice raspy from having your throat fucked raw, “—Did I make it up to you, niichan?” you gaze up at him, eyelashes spiky with residual water. You’re the perfect picture of obedience, strands of hair stuck to your face where your salty tears have dried and swollen lips gleaming with saliva as you watch him with glittering eyes, waiting desperately for his praise.

He looks down at you, eyes devious and diabolical, chest heaving a little. “Of course you did,” he tells you, corners of his lips tugging up into a sharp smirk as you melt into him. “You always do, don’t you?”

#todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya #dabi x reader #dabi smut #touya x reader #dabi may be a scumbag but he loves his momma #tomura baby i’m so sorry #promise u don’t horrify me at all oof #pls come horrify me more #christ if dabi isn’t touya we’re all gonna look like goddamn fools #a buncha clowns #anyway this is my first time posting something like this #n i haven’t written smut in an extremely long time #so pls be nice #actually u should always be nice #so pls be extra nice #no one beta’d this so there’s a good chance i’ll come back to it n revise it or whatever idk i’m just sick of looking at it rn #the ‘he talks too much’ is inspired by ch 271 w hawks where he’s all ‘he’ll keep talking’#dabi shut the fuck up challenge #prone to monologuing this boy is #also sorry abt the crazy sentences with a thousand commas #apparently now i’m oscar wilde w these run on sentences #idk i still kinda like em tho #i like oscar #tw pseudo-incest #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw emotional manipulation #tw somnophilia #tw drugs

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

Text

Demon Brothers being Soft for Their Daughters

Might just be me but I think there's nothing cuter than a Dad who loves his daughter so I made a hc for our boys. Strap in, it’s a long one!

IMPORTANT! Watch out for first half spoilers! Assumed that the child is a half human/half demon with the MC!

Lucifer

Tries to be really strict but ends up being kind of a pushover.

Oh there ARE rules that even his little girl can't break, but most of the time she can get away with almost anything if she's cute clever enough.

Pushes her to be the best at almost anything she tries, expectations be real high; gonna take the MC stepping in to remind him winning isn't everything and please cool it on the pressure.

Lowkey learned his lesson before and doesn't want to make another Satan situation so tries to take MC's advice to heart and not be quite so controlling.

Her favorite uncle is Mammon and he gets cold sweats about this every night.

Wasn't able to be there for a lot of her firsts due to work and gets real sulky when he misses out. Videos just don't offer the same experience...

Feels bad that work keeps him so busy so he tries to make up for it with toys, clothes, jewelry, pretty much whatever she likes at the time.

Would never admit it, but his black heart melts every time he comes home and sees she's excitedly waiting by the door.

One of those parents who will never stop bragging about how amazing their kid is to anyone who will listen, but never when she's in the same room.

100% that overprotective "I'm going to give you a brief tour of the torture chamber, then we’ll browse my whip collection. Oh, make sure she's home by 8" kind of dad if she were to ever bring home a date. They will know that his baby is not to be messed with (like anyone's crazy enough to try honestly).

Mammon

So over the goddamn moon that someone actually wanted to have a kid with him that he couldn't shut up about it for weeks.

Treasures his little girl more than anything he owns, even Goldie. When she's a baby the two of them are practically inseparable.

The biggest pushover to ever be pushed. She's about the only person he's ever unconditionally generous to and he really spoils her rotten.

She's just as materialistic as her father, honestly, but MC made sure their girl was raised with good morals. The first of which being no stealing. Ever. She works for every cent she spends.

On the one hand, he's actually pretty damn proud and relieved that she won't be called "scum" or anything like her father, but on the other hand like… Ew. Who raised you? (No one remind him it’s kind of his doing anyway).

For once in his greedy existence, he can tell a sob story about really needing that loan or those shoes for his beloved daughter and actually mean it… most of the time 😏

Even when she's young, though, she will ask him if a gift he's giving her was taken from someone else and, man, he cannot lie to her face. People shame him for stealing all the time but the little look of disappointment she gives him hurts WAY more than all of his brothers’ insults combined.

Probably one of the most supportive and involved dads in existence. He will be at every game, every recital, every meet. Even if he's complaining the whole time, if anyone so much as suggests that he just shouldn't go he'd be appalled.

…. He's perhaps a little too involved because he's also totally the kind of father who will lowkey stalk his daughter's dates to be sure nothing bad happens. MC, please step in. She needs privacy too.

Leviathan

Was incredibly worried about having a kid, he's not even had the best track record when it comes to pets and parenting is some high-level normie stuff. But his little girl's first smile absolutely melted his doubts away.

That being said… he's still not the greatest with little kids. For a long time if the baby so much as sneezed unexpectedly he'd start shouting for the MC and checking every website he can like??? My half demon baby won't stop sneezing, is it pneumonia???

Gets a lot less panicky as the child gets older, but in those early years he'd practically want to stick them in a bubble wrap suit.

He passed on his love of the ocean and underwater creatures pretty early on. The running joke is that his girl knew how to swim before she knew how to crawl.

Family aquarium trips are an absolute must.

The second they're old enough to understand plot he's introducing them to his favorite shows, but only the best (and most child-friendly) ones of course. He wants his daughter to grow into a woman of culture, damnit! Pop culture that is.

Sooo much text/chat lingo between these two. It's not her fault really. She was bound to pick it up but man can it sound like they're speaking tongues at times.

With practice she can and will beat her old man at most video games and, yes, it makes his cry tears of equal parts pride and aggravation.

Has a mini-panic attack every time she hits a new milestone, like, yes he's so fucking proud but also don't you think she's growing up too fast??? MY BABY GIRL!!! 😭😭😭

Cries like a baby to the MC when she goes out on her first date because he realized she's really, truly, growing up and he's afraid his little girl isn't going to want to spend time with her lame old dad anymore.

Satan

Tries to be strict and IS strict but mostly on schoolwork.

Her grades best not be slippin' or this Book Papa will take all her stuff away. End of discussion.

Otherwise, he's surprisingly chill being the Avatar of Wrath and all. He of all people understands the desire to just have your own life and do your own thing.

She'll inherit his temper though, that's a given, and if they both get going then watch out. Fights between them can get verbally explosive, but never physical. Even at his angriest Satan would never once lay a hand on his daughter.

Read to her every night when she was young: storybooks, novels, mythologies, didn't matter to him. Whatever she wanted to hear. Still, he was so proud the day she told him that she wanted to read on her own.

100% makes nearly everything in life a teachable lesson but also helps her when she needs it. He wants her to forge her own path but is still very supportive when the situation calls for it.

Would never EVER admit it, but he does just as many dad jokes as Lucifer.

Of all the brothers, he's probably the most typical father to have, there for his kid just enough while also making sure they're not getting away with murder.

Is totally chill with her dating because he knows he doesn’t have to be super protective of her. She can more than handle herself if something goes wrong, in fact, if he were to step in it would probably add insult to their already grievance injury.

That being said, he IS the Avatar of Wrath. If someone hurts his girl he’s going to have a turn one way or another.

Asmodeus

Oh YEEESSS, he's not normally the commitment kind of guy but he and MC raising a child? They'd be the most gorgeous thing in the universe!!! (Not counting himself of course)

Beautifying his baby since day one, but the MC keeps him from doing anything too extreme. A lot of baths, good moisturizer, hairstyling (when she grows enough of it), etc.

Soooo many outfits. She'll practically never wear the same thing twice and Asmo coordinates his own clothes to match hers all the time.

He actually goes out and parties LESS if you can believe it, especially when she's young and needs a lot of supervision. But he'll get pent up real quick so learning how to do a quiet quickie during naptime is a must.

His girl is all over his Devilgram, nearly every milestone is snapped up and recorded. He loves her more than anything and would just scream about his pride and joy from the rooftops if social media didn't provide him that outlet.

Makes sure his daughter knows that she is gorgeous, she is loved, and passes on every bit of self-confidence he has. Doesn't matter if she grows up a girly-girl, tomboy, or anything else under the sun. When you're feeling good just being you, heads will turn on their own accord!

Not the best at discipline and would only really step in if he thinks she's being a real jerk about something. Day to day attitude adjustments are totally up to the MC.

He is, however, the best sex-ed teacher one could ever ask for and makes sure his daughter knows there's no shame in what comes natural, just be sure you're respectful and responsible!

Completely unfazed when the suitors began lining up, I mean she is HIS daughter. It was inevitable. Offers tips and advice when he can but lets her go off and experiment naturally. Young love is a beautiful thing! (Just don't break his girl's heart though because he may lowkey curse your whole bloodline)

Beelzebub

….. MC, you're going to be eaten out of house and home.

Though his daughter's appetite isn't AS bad as his, Beel could tell it's going to be an issue from day one but he's ready for it.

Dedicates his freaking life to being sure she never goes one night hungry. He'll cook, he'll shop, he'll even share from his own plate if he has to. The thought of her going through anywhere near the level of starvation he feels on a daily basis is enough to crush his soul (if he has one)

You better bet there will be eating competitions. She never wins, but the fact she can even get close will have him grinning anyway.

That being said, he will push for a healthy and active lifestyle for her too.

Highkey wants her playing sports and doing team activities because he genuinely thinks it will help her stay healthy and make friends.

Just the right amount of discipline. Tries to be understanding but also knows when to call a spade, a spade and express his disapproval.

Very in-tune to her emotions and her needs even if he can’t quite grasp WHY she's feeling the way she is. Keeping up with teen drama is going to be the bane of his existence...

Uncle Belphie=That one cool uncle who lets you get away with anything and probably gives out sugar after bedtime.

One of the only brothers who makes a point of his daughter also seeing and exploring her human heritage too and not just treating her like a pseudo-demon… And it's totally not just for the added excuse of sampling human world cuisine, like, come on who do you take him for? 🤫

Somewhat cautious about her dating, but ultimately just wants her to be happy. He'll usually trust her judgment but he's pretty good at reading someone's character and if he gets real bad vibes from anyone he's not above telling her, "No. Not that one." Whether or not he's listened to depends on the situation.

Belphegor

Lol MC, you could have picked a much better choice. Borderline Deadbeat/Cool Dad here!

Kids… not his thing. He doesn't dislike them exactly, they're just a lot of work and he's sort of allergic to that. He's more of a semi-irresponsible babysitter type.

Case in point, "Belphie, watch the baby" becomes "Belphie, if you're going to take a nap at least hold onto her leg so she doesn't go anywhere."

Only saving grace is she takes after him so most days she's pretty dang sleepy too. Naptime is a good third of the daily routine (not that anyone is complaining).

Shit at discipline because, like, what leg does he have to stand on? If she wants to ditch class, why not let her? Once or twice ain't that bad.

Takes her on a lot of "field trips" to the human world like he would with Lilith. Genuinely wants her to experience both sides of her identity and encourages her to explore her human side just as much as her demon.

The kind of chill dad that you feel comfortable going to when you've got to talk out a problem or need life advice. He might not be able to offer many answers, but he tries in his own way.

Will prank his kid and will not feel sorry, but is never cruel about it. In fact, this will only spur on a mutual prank war between the two.

Uncle Beel=that genuinely nice uncle who tries to teach you life lessons and how to take care of yourself… while also eating a ton of food.

Would be super confused at first if she started dating like?? How? He kind of sees her like a mini-him at times and his human came to him. Since when did she stay awake long enough to leave the house?? But otherwise he goes with the flow. Whatever she wants, her life.

He might get a bit more agitated if she starts to date a human, like, lowkey bad flashbacks to the whole Lilith situation and the MC would probably have to cool his jets about it. Different circumstances after all.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me headcanons #obey me luficer #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me scenarios

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rein-ette · 3 years

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Are you still working on your Commonwealth study? Do you have any thoughts on Arthur's relationships with his colonies apart from Canzuk + US?

Not properly, unfortunately with exams and then work I haven’t had mental/emotional capacity to do real research (and probably won’t for a while 😔). But I have continued to think about and develop certain relationships, and I think I also have old hcs I’ve never shared, so I’ll put those down!

Born into the Empire

Australia

@oumaheroes has already done such great hcs on him idk what I can add, but basically he was a little bit of a rowdy child, always breaking windows and shattering fancy pots, never able to sit still. I think rainbow once mentioned that Ken (short for Kenneth, my name for Aus) was a lot like England as a child in his curiosity and energy, and I wholeheartedly agree. But I think Arthur’s intensity was more inwardly directed, pushing him to pursue and master new talents and learn whatever he could, while Australia is a little more carefree in his love for the outdoors, exploring, jumping around and off things, little wild animals. Unfortunately for him, he was born in a period of the empire when Arthur was very serious about his kids education, and therefore often praised those who studied hard and learned fast, which really just wasn’t Australia’s cup of tea. Australia took this kinda hard and thought he was the “dumb” one in the family that Arthur was always scolding, but in reality Arthur knew and appreciated that Australias interests lay elsewhere — he was just a frustrated, tired, parent who really wanted to give his kids the best while also holding his empire together, two goals that were never going to fit well in the end and would completely exhaust him.

As Australia’s grown older he’s realized a bit of this (not entirely, though) and also that 1) he really did break a lot expensive things and cause general mayhem 2) scolding us Arthur’s way of showing he cares, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have payed attention to him at all 3) despite being a penal colony, he was still one of Arthur’s more “legitimate” children (being white and a boy) and was therefore still incredibly privileged — never having to question, for example, why it was that Arthur was his dad, if it should be this way, or if he had a seat at the family table at all (more on this later).

New Zealand

Zee, from birth, was a clear favourite. Obedient, calm, quietly intelligent, he would also later develop a blistering sense of humour which combined with his appearance made it overwhelmingly clear who’s child he was. If Ken questioned his place in the family because of his poor academic record and others did because of their appearance/race/other complications, Kaelan never had such problems; his siblings called him the “prince.” Zee, however, also had a charm that, like Matthew, endeared him to his siblings and mostly protected him from jealousy, though he certainly still had issues with being called a try hard, daddy’s boy, bossy, arrogant. Certainly as a child Zee was a little prideful and, under that unperturbed demeanour, willful, but he grew out of it by the 20th century and became one of those most trusted by Arthur, second only to Matthew. He’s also always been inseparable from his brother Australia despite their differences, and today they both have one of the healthiest and most amicable relationships with Arthur of any nation, let alone former colonies (family road trips, every summer).

Bermuda

I absolute fell in love with this girl after reading about here, once, in this fic by @shachaai, and after that my mind just ran away with me. For me, her human name given to her by Arthur just has to be Ariel — for the little mermaid reference, yes, symbolizing her connection to the sea and stunning good looks, but also because:

1. Ariel is a biblical name, meaning lion of God. This makes sense to me, because Bermuda began as a Portuguese trade post, so Arthur definitely consulted our resident bad catholic Port before naming her.

2. Ariel used to be boys name. This also makes sense, because I hc Bermuda was and still is a tomboy. Bitch is fierce, takes no prisoners, and has zero filter. Her letters to Arthur, which all the colonies sent so Arthur could keep an eye on things, were full of shit like “I swear to god if the Spanish don’t get out of my waters I might eat one of them,” and “father, I asked you for destroyers two months ago, and yet you sent them to Hong Kong — could you explain this most unusual occurrence, surely it’s not that you forgot”, and “thank you for the harpoon on my birthday, I caught a small shark a couple days ago and have sent you some of its teeth for your collection.” Arthur tolerates this attitude because he’s weak when it comes to girls; he absolutely spoils his daughters (and flushes like a 16 year old when a woman so much as bats her eyelashes at him). Yes, p*ssywhipped Arthur is a hill I will die on.

3. It also suits her because? Ariel? Shakespeare? The Tempest? Bermuda Triangle? Shipwrecks? Daughter-like figure of powerful and vengeful sorcerer? Yeah. And this girl is a fire spirit — she is so lively, snarky, clever. As she’s grown older she’s mellowed out a little, but still: a no shit taken, no fucks given type of gal.

4. Speaking of growing up, she’s also become quite the beauty. Shacha, if I’m remembering correctly, described her as dark skinned, wavy-haired, and green eyed and that image has been burned onto the back of my eyelids ever since. Those Iberian genetics really be pulling through for her, that’s for sure. Engport love child if I’ve ever seen one. Definitely one of the prettiest in her family.

Singapore

I’ve already mentioned this to needcake, but I’m not too big a fan of canon Singapore, so this is my oc version. Singapore is fascinating to me because it had only a very small local population before it became a colony (The original settlement had actually been destroyed by the Portuguese about two centuries before the British started building a port there.) So nation-tans like Singapore and Bermuda really are Arthur’s children in the most direct sense of the word. And yet, Singapore is mostly ethnically Chinese, with Malays being the second largest group. Growing up Asian in a white, Victorian era family surely cannot have been easy and more than once Singapore probably wondered if there hadn’t been some mistake. To make up for the constant fear that he wasn’t “really” British, Singapore studied ferociously and had a truly terrifying work ethic. I’m not sure if this is common knowledge outside Asian circles, so I’ll mention that this hc comes from the fact Singapore is well known for having truly exceptional students and some of the most prestigious schools. Singaporeans score highly in literally everything and they have an advantage with good English learning environments, a highly desirable trait in Asia, but these results come from brutally long hours — and its really saying something that they’re known for working hard, considering the studying ethic of students in Korea, Japan, and China aint nothing to sneeze at, either. To me this actually fits really well with Singapore’s upbringing in Arthur’s household, because Arthur himself prizes intelligence and hard work above all else, being a workaholic himself.

As for their relationship, it was probably the best when Singapore was young and peaked in the 1930s with the massive naval base the British built at Singapore, at the time the largest dry dock in the world. Singapore was a well-behaved child, not necessarily introverted but not rowdy either, and all the way into his teenage years he truly admired Arthur and was proud to be a part of the British Empire, despite his lingering unease and insecurities. The British defeat in World War II, however, was a massive turning point. He had worked his ass off to be a good son, a good brother, to contribute to the only family and system he had ever known, and he had thought by the 30s he was finally on his way to becoming a fine adult. And suddenly, the British surrender brings his entire world crashing down. He had followed the rules faithfully thinking it was his destiny, but suddenly it was clear that all rules were made up. Of course, his insecurities exploded. If the empire was a ruse, what the hell was he? A part of the illusion? He couldn’t have a truly Asian identity, because many of the old East Asian nations shunned him for his Western upbringing, and he could not entirely understand their values either. So he was a kid who kinda had to figure out late and very very suddenly who the fuck he was and wanted to be.

And, well, he’s done pretty well for himself, hasn’t he. After having a total crisis and questioning everything, I think Singapore slowly started to realize that just because the British Empire as a political entity didn’t last forever, that didn’t mean that his entire childhood and identity weren’t real. The love he gave to his siblings and the love he got back, the hard work he put in, his bond with Arthur and the safe, happy childhood he had — those memories and feelings didnt have to be diminished by what came after. Essentially, he learned the lesson all nations have to learn, which is that one needs to be able to discern between duties as a nation and feelings as a human being, and to some extent keep them separate to protect both.

Whoooooo ok I’ll stop there because this turned into a dissertation, sorry. Let me know if there are any specifics u want me to elaborate on or anything I missed, but I’ll leave this here for today :)

#hws england #hws Australia #hws new zealand #oc: hws Bermuda #not gonna tag anymore I’m lazy #fun times with the commonwealth #I probably won’t write so much for all of them I just put it there to remind myself #needcake #ask #my hcs

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ill-skillsgard · 3 years

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Another goth out here - Can I ask for hc's of all the Bill boys you write for with a goth girl, please?

Why, yes! I’d love to. After all... Everyone needs a cute goth GF, right? You know it’s true.

Axel Cluney

He steals her fishnets. They just look good on him. Axel likes to show some skin and he’s not a fan of real shirts. Only garments with holes in them, and she happens to have a lot of those. Axel will convince her to do a clothing swap with him until she gets fed up sacrificing her clothes and brings him to a goth market where he can buy his own stuff.

They compare tattoos. She has some meaningful and dark tattoos and Axel is covered in ink he let his friend put on him as “practice”...That friend is now in jail tattooing convicts, but Axel insists they’re not prison tats.

He shows her new music. Everything she loves, Axel loved when he was a kid, and makes it a point to remind her of his refined taste by bringing her mix CDs which she can’t play because who even owns a CD-player anymore? (He buys her one from the local pawn shop so they can listen to Smashing Pumpkins together.)

Axel contemplates dying his hair black. He loves hers, so why not his?

Roman Godfrey

She has a crush on him first, thinking he’s the closest thing to the local “goth” boy, then realizes he’s not goth at all. She might think he’s a poser. After much back and forth, she decides he’s just a fashion guy, but he already has his sights set on her. He wears all the black in his closet and then buys more to assimilate.

Roman’s idea of a first date is bringing her to a forest where he smokes cigarettes and talks about being an outcast. She makes fun of him only a little bit, then steals his scarf. He lets her keep it, saying it looks better on her anyway.

He asks her if she knows any witchcraft or spells; if she believes in spirits and all that. It surprises her to hear these questions and she answers, “why? You wanna put a hex on someone?”

Roman has found a match for his attitude. He thought he was the world’s biggest brat until he meets her. It’s a huge turn-on for him to have a girl that doesn’t put up with bullshit.

Henry Deaver

She scares him. Like a lot. But it’s hot...Right? He doesn’t know if she hates him or not, but he’ll find out once he summons the courage to talk to her.

He’s wildly afraid of coming off as unimpressive, but he doesn’t know what these kinds of girls like. So he buys up a bunch of old-school horror movies, some of them truly god-awful, and hopes she’ll want to watch one of them. Oh, and he has to keep the lights on, and no, he won’t explain why. He just likes to watch movies with the light on. Yes, there’s a glare on the screen, and no, it doesn’t bother him.

She figures out Henry is jumpy and will lurk in the shadows to pop out at him at any chance. He screams and clutches his chest the first couple of times, then spends the rest of their time together peering around corners and assessing where she is at all times.

He will not make the first move. She kisses him first, under a full moon, and Henry practically melts.

The Kid

He’s the only man that kind of freaks her out. He’s tall, dark, quiet, and not in the typecast way. This guy looks like a dead tree. He kind of sits there all stiff and wide-eyed like ghosts are talking to him. Until he cracks his first gentle smile, she’s not even sure he has a pulse.

The Kid knows all the best scary movies, and we’re not talking Friday the Thirteenth and A Nightmare on Elm Street. He has a stash of the freakiest underground film that makes even her feel uncomfortable watching, and she grew up on this shit.

She likes to wear dark lipstick, and he’s the only one who doesn’t make snide or “clever” comments. He likes the way she dresses and does herself up. It reminds him of a little porcelain doll. A cursed doll, but cute nonetheless.

To her surprise, he kisses her first. He’s not the most vocal guy, but he can read body language, and he knows it’s the right time. When he pulls away, the smile on her face turns his icy insides to liquid.

Henry Pearl

They meet at a midnight art showing in the middle of the town’s square. Her booth is set up with her spooky dolls and sinister paintings, sculptures and metaphysical crafts of bone and crystals. Henry gravitates toward her when he hears people whispering about her weird art.

She begs him to teach her some painting techniques, as she’s intrigued by his skill, and he obliges, but only later at night.

He makes her breakfast at night, explaining that nine PM is the perfect time for pancakes. She doesn’t mind since she’s a night owl by nature.

After they see each other for a few weeks, Henry paints a portrait of her and gets his first kiss as a result. It rocks his entire world. After the kiss, all he ever wants to paint is her face.

Mickey

He tries a little too hard to get her attention at first. She doesn’t know whether she finds him pathetic or if it’s kiiinda cute how he follows her around like a puppy.

They bond over music one day in Mickey’s car, which is NOT the car she first saw him driving. He lights up when metal plays, croons to power ballads, gets emotional over the break-up songs. She can see he’s a genuine dude who wears his emotions on his sleeve.

Mickey brings her flowers he stole from various gardens. He had a vision of buying her a bouquet of black roses, but they wanted 60 bucks at the store, so he improvises by prowling the garden district with a pair of shears.

Her black collars excite him. He asks if they mean anything or if they’re just fashion. She teases him and tells him if he wants to find out, he’ll have to prove himself. So he spends the rest of the week acting like the perfect boyfriend, though they’re not “official”, they are in his mind and he doesn’t have eyes for anyone else.

Merkel

Maybe the only guy who might be more goth than her. He likes black, wearing make-up and knows all the best underground clubs where they play dark industrial and everyone dresses like her.

He asks if he can dress her one day. To her surprise, Merkel has trunks of clothes he’s taken from fashion shoots. He styles her and stages his own photoshoot with her as his muse. The pictures are strikingly editorial, and she has the best time.

Merkel talks about hanging out with all her idols. She listens with heart-eyes and a smile to rival a sunrise to the stories of Gordon’s travels through Europe.

Invites her over to his place one night for wine and black-and-white movies, but all she wants to do is check out his handcuff collection and put them to use. With a coy look, he escorts her to his studio apartment, asking, “do you have your own safeword, or should we decide on one now?”

Willard Russell

He doesn’t understand all the black, but he wants to because he thinks she looks beautiful. He’s never seen a girl like her before. Maybe she’s an angel, maybe she’s the opposite... All Willard knows is he wants to talk to her.

She understands his melancholy, and he doesn’t feel like he needs to put on a happy mask when she’s around. It’s a breath of fresh air to feel like he can be himself in front of someone who doesn’t try to change him.

Her intelligence baffles him, and she doesn’t speak like the folks he grew up with. She’s different in every way, and he falls in love with her quickly.

Willard makes her a tree swing in the forest where they like to go to be alone. She finds this incredibly sweet and kisses him on the cheek before taking a seat on the wooden plank. His skin heats from where her lips touched, and he spends the rest of the evening with her in a lovestruck daze.

#Bill Skarsgard hc #Bill Skarsgard imagine #Bill Skarsgard drabble #Bill Skarsgard fanfiction #Roman Godfrey #Axel Cluney #Henry Deaver #The Kid #Henry Pearl #Mickey Villains #gordon merkel #willard russell

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headcans-oneshots-and-stuff · 4 years

Text

Nineth Doctor x reader (Relationship HC)

Requested by the one - the only - the incredibly and handsom @sirkekselord: My honeybee please I need more Nineth doctor fluff! Give me the relationship headcanons already! Give me Jack and Reader being best friends and annoying nine! JUST MORE!

A/N: This is based on this (Of blue cubes and boyfriends), but can be read completely seperate

Okay so we all know how Nine is sass impersonated and would have made Donna proud, right?

It’s gonna get worse when you’re in a relationship BECAUSE NOW HE’S ALSO COCKY

Will definitly try to show off

A lot

just please praise him for how clever and amazing he is and what a good alien boyfriend he is

He’ll be very happy, smile like a Cheshire cat and spontaniously take you out the the most extravagant (and un-catastrophic) planet he can think off

Oh, the dates

The dates will be great

You literally have the entirety of time and space at your deposale and believe me when I say the doctor will use that to his advantage

Will definitly try to top himself every step of the way

He took you to meet one of your great historical idols last week? well then he’ll take you to the future and to meet the people who see you as their great historical Idol this week

Nine will also definitly let you show off too btw

You remember in the episode where he and rose (and adam) first go to this newsplatform and he tells her all the factual stuff and let’s her act as if she knows that in front of Adam?

He’ll do that for you literally all the time

He’ll smile so proudly

He’ll be even more proud if you remember something he told you and connect it to the problem at hand or if you make a deduction all by yourself

Also, not to get too NSFW here, but there are two things that you do sometimes (well more than two but these two stand out) that get him all hot and bothered

a) if you and him bounce science theories off of each other (even though it will mostly be him) and you’re the one who has the great breakthrough that serves as the solution to whatever problem and

b) when you get all protective or aggresive against someone threatening you and you start to defent and protect him and what’s right

Let’s just say these make him very excited, but it’s always in very wrong moments

Now back to topic

If you want something more domestic at times, expect him to really, really try to fulfill your wish, but also be fully prepared for chaos to ensue and a world-threatening situation to occur

Because it will

Now to the really important part

If you’re travelling with the doctor - and even more if you’re dating the doctor - there’s exactly two people who you cannot avoid meeting

First off is the TARDIS (which I am counting as a person, because she’s amazing)

And second is - obviously - the one and only captain Jack Harkness

Now there’s a few things to keep in mind here and a few ways this could go

But one way or another someone is gonna be jealous

Either it will be you: because Jack will definitly flirt with the Doctor like always

Or it will be nine: Because you’re a) alive, b) not trying to kill and/or eat him and c) in his general vicinity which means that the Captain will definitly flirt with you

But either way it’s nothing serious, because he’s so happy for the both of you

Now, while the Doctor is glad that you and Jack get along, he will most likely regret introducing the two of you sooner rather than later

It’s like you’re two peas in a pot and you’ll both encourage each other to be the most annoying version of each other as possible and it will drive Nine nuts

(Even though that even when you’re purposfully annoying, nine can’t help but be enamoured by you - he just loves you so much, okay?)

He will gladly leave Jack behind on the next best planet (again *cough cough*), even though that will only stop the two of you for so long

But all in all you and the ninth doctor have a pretty wholesome relationship 💜💜💜

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #the doctor #the doctor x reader #9 #9 x reader #nine x reader #nine #nineth doctor #nineth doctor x reader #captain jack harkness x reader #jack harkness #TARDIS #dw #dw x reader

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jamesmydeer · 4 years

Note

I just read extravert introvert hcs with remus lupin! I loved it so much. Would you like to do hcs for remus falling for an american transfer who is a quidditch star but is also incredibly intelligent? I'm sorry I'm not a very articulate person. Have a nice day, stay safe and drink some water!

awww this made me pour myself a glass of water 🥺 i hope you have a great day too lovie!thank you so much, of course i woul love to! (this turned out really long :)))

also, hello my deers, i’m back!!!!! i’ve missed you all! <3

masterlist

remus x ilvermorny transfer

- transferring from one school to another is a nerve racking thing

- especially when your new school is in a completely different country

- your first day at hogwarts would be pretty strange

- because it’s a whole new atmosphere

- since everyone had known eachother for the past five years, they already had someone to sit with in classes

- you, on the other hand, did not

- so, you sat in the back at an empty desk

- given that the students of hogwarts are keen to gossip, all eyes had already been on you since you walked through the doors

- it didn’t help when professor mcgonagall called on you out of nowhere

- it was a hard question, and no one raised their hand when she asked

- usually, that meant she would ask remus

- however, this question had stumped even him, who had answered with a soft “i don’t know, professor.”

- to your dismay, mcgonagall followed up with “miss l/n, do you know the answer?”

- if every pair of eyes in the class hadn’t been on you before, they definitely were now

- swallowing your nerves, you held your head high and answered the question

- correctly, might i add

- look at you, you’re so smart !!

- mcgonagall smiled, as if she knew you would get it

- “5 points to y/h”

- the rest of the class turned back to their professor, but one student lingered a little longer than necessary

- “you’ve got some competition, moony” sirius pulled him out of his trance

- “very funny sirius”

- remus did not find it very funny, but he did find you very intriguing

- and pretty

- by the time quidditch tryouts rolled around, the marauders had already learned about remus’ infatuation

- when they saw your name on the quidditch sign up sheet, they ran to tell him as fast as possible

- of course they all planned to watch your tryout, all for different reasons of course

- james and sirius wanted to scout out the competition, remus wanted to watch you, and peter didn’t want to sit alone in their dorm

- as the tryout went on, they all came to the same realization

- you were good

- like, really good

- james and sirius pretended not to be a little worried, but remus saw right through them

- “you’ve got some competition, twats.”

- when tryouts were over, james, sirius, and peter told remus they were going to go talk to the y/h captain

- after 20 minutes, it dawned on him that they weren’t coming back

- so, he made his way to the gryffindor common room

- not before bumping into you first

- you started a small awkward conversation over everyday things; the weather, classes, quidditch

- you both said your goodbyes and started to leave

- but then you walked in the same direction

- after turning down the same hallways twice, you both laughed and remus volunteered to walk you to your common room

- thus, a beautiful friendship was formed

- and after you found a piece of paper in one of your books from him asking you out, relationship

i’m so sorry, i always get carried away with backstory

- now onto the actual dating

- remus loves to imitate your accent

- you’ll say a word that sounds funny to him, and he will smile and repeat it back to you in the worst american accent ever

- you pretend to hate it, but the smile on his face when he does makes your heart melt

- you do it back to him one day after he says water and he immediately understands why you don’t get mad when he does it

- he thinks you’re the cutest

- he goes to all your quidditch matches

- when you’re playing gryffindor, he joins sirius and james in smack talk the days leading up to the game

- but when it actually comes, he cheers for you when you do something good, despite the dirty looks he receives from his housemates

- and minnie

- *shivers*

- you always give eachother proud little glances when you get a good grade or a question right in a class you share

- he lets you in on all the secrets of hogwarts, despite the groaning of the other marauders

- your relationship is full of little harmless pranks

- like the time he convinced you that they don’t celebrate christmas in wizarding england

- and the time you told him that the white house wasn’t actually white

- in true marauder fashion, you have to be given a nickname

- they settle for merry

- you know, like america, merry

- sirius thought it was quite clever, for your information

- he’s always the first to greet you after a match with a big squeeze and a forehead kiss

- which you tell him not to do, because you’re gross and sweaty

- but nothing could stop a love struck remus lupin

- definitely teaches you british slang to call the other marauders

- his heart swells when you call james a “clueless wanker”

- anytime he hears someone gossiping about “the american” or pestering you with questions, he sends them an annoyed glare and drags you the other way

- that being said, sirius pesters you with question after question about america

- sometime you spend hours talking to him about what ilvermorny and america were like

- it doesn’t bother remus under these circumstances though, since he usually has his head in your lap the whole time anyways

- because he loves when you play with his hair

- he just adores you so much, ya know

- he thinks you’re neat

- he doesn’t know what he would do if you hadn’t have transferred

#harry potter #jamesmydeer #marauders #harry potter hc #harry potter imagine #marauders hc #remus lupin hc #remus headcanon #remus lupin x reader #remus imagine #remus x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus hc

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trrickytickle · 4 years

Text

✿ aang + zuko hcs !! ✿

happy birthday @token-lee !! ur so poggers and cool and i love u so much so i made u headcanons,, 15 for each character bc ur 15 now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

🌪️ ☁️ 🌻 ❀ sO like most hcs i believe aang had a lot of experience with twords,,, growing up at the air temple, he has been both the lee and the ler. although he refused to admit it at first, after finding out his status and prior to the unfreezing, he missed tickles sm lmao,, and katara and sokka were happy to help with that >:3 !! (he thoroughly regrets ever telling them)

❀ squeals like a mf. oh and he KICKS. just he tries to defend himself in the most ridiculous ways and always fails,, toph and katara are often enlisted to hold him down.

❀ ler leaning switch. loves the game, not the sensation but he still likes it!! the other gaang members primarily tword him as a “punishment” or if theyre feeling a lil wrestly,, aaa he mostly gets got by katara bc shes da gf, sokka, and toph

❀ when zuko was introduced into the group, he wasn’t used to physical touch and a caring family, so when aang tried to start a tickle fight, he lost to an incredibly yell-y, rough and sadistic ler!zuko who apologized profusely. (”that’s how azula used to do it, and, um, she wasn’t the best, not at tickling, but at being a sister, well anyways, uh,,, -scar boy 2kxx)

❀ when the sky bison and winged lemurs repopulated aang was incredibly ecstatic to see that the furry friends he grew up with were still alive, resulting in a swarm of baby sky bison and winged lemurs snuggling up against him and nuzzling against him with their fluff,, a lethal attack >:00 ❀ LER WISE hes so mean and playful!! like teasing, jumpin around, bending, and giggling along its SO CUTE,, he makes his lees- especially zuko- start giggling in anticipation and aang knows and takes pride in it, especially with the poopoo not poggers jerk prince zuko/j

❀ giant air raspberries thats the post.

❀ octopus technique that’s the post.

❀ buckling the lee down with earthbending when they move too much that’s the post.

❀ fireb- NO NO THAT’S NOT THE POST

❀ post tickle symptoms include earth shattering hiccups, which are fun for a group of travelling teenagers who sleep outdoors, mainly on mountains or caves. f u n!!!!

❀ aang and toph mud-wrestle during training and one more than one occassion, it’s turned into a tk free for all.

❀ kataang smooches with tickles. they do be wholesome,, also neck raspberry. brrt.

❀ sokka messes with him a lot, and you bet your ass this involves him being Mega Ler. like hes the epitome of ler with him. SUKI ON THE OTHER HAND

❀ suki and sokka helped him get into the avatar kyoshi getup again. the face paint ended in suki wrecking tf out of him for the duration of time it took.

❀ light on his feet = t,, tword,, is, h,,

❀ bro tumby. him tumby.

🧨 🔥 🎇

❀ blushy lee asf. the gaang wouldn’t let it slide and aang would try everything to fluster him, but only mai/sokka/whoeverthefuckyoushiphimwith knows how to TRULY fluster him- being slooow and gentle!! he gets all huffy and muffles his mouth to prevent his cute lil flustered giggles.

❀ the one to change his opinions on tickles and help him get comfortable was toph- she made sure to stop when it got too far for him- she always knew, thanks to her seismic sense abilities. he’d never admit it, but he kind of liked when toph tworded him, it was an oportunity to be closer to his friend in a comfortable way. he thought toph felt that way as well, but really toph is just an incrediblly stubborn lee who just wanted him to gib the tickl. now. firebender? more like firebendLER. please ler me big brother who gives me a sense of companionship.

❀ snorting. squealing. wheezing. giggling. any noise in the book, he definetly makes. so fuckin cute and precious HSDBAH

❀ chile anyways he pouts when he cant think of a clever rebuttal to the gaang’s teases (*leans in and whispers* sokka’s are the hardest) because they’re. so. MEAN

❀ textbook definition of lee, this man is. but ler, he can be. he was the latest in the group to find out THEY were twordish too bc hes a dum. chile anyways he goes after aang and toph the most.

❀ zuko and katara are practically toph’s parents so she craves tickles from them the most, but she doesn’t know how to ask. zuko is very oblivious to toph’s lee moods, but katara knows all.

❀ ra- *gets mauled* pentapus bites- this mans biggest weakness. will yell-laugh, attempt to kick his lee off,,

❀ the gaang helping him change his mind about tickles bc azula and ty lee used to destroy him. (mai was too busy bi panicing over teasy ty lee and giggly zuko.) i imagine they like to do it softly, not like some writers out there (glares at kyoko pfp and slow writer with god level fics )

❀ chile anyways so teasing. they each have their own brand when it comes to making zuko redder than his non poggers scar. toph’s is more like taunting, aang is super silly and just,, cute, katara likes making little comments, sokka sucks at it but that’s what makes it good, and suki’s suki. like, you know, casual comments?

❀ it’s the face covering for me. think you can hide your lee? miss girl no.

❀ ah yes the rare occurance. zuko squeaking. mostly happens when his neck or shoulderblades are attacked because the light touches kill him.

❀ curling up into a ball like an armadillo-whatever because this is the atla world and h, hybrids,,, and wait actually curling up + covering his face. adorable out of this world i am LIVING for it. he looks smaller when he’s in a ball because of the flustered zuko shrinking theory.

❀ back to the theory. when you fluster a zuko enough he turns into a constantly shrinking pile of blushy mush which tries to surpress a big smile.

❀ this was only recently discovered because azula never flustered him or made him feel safe or happy. she bullied him. tortured him and made him bitter about even the sheer thought of tickling. but now that he has his friends family, his opinion changed, knowing that they were people he could trust and talk to about just about anything. ❀ the gaang never does anything intrusive or kinda mean. (again, GLARING at a major writer.) just nice :D things. no straddling him down and continuously doing hard stuff for hours on end. (glares at another human.) thank you and sorry for all the glaring.

#tickling #tickle hcs #tickle fic #atla tickling #tickle headcanons #tickle community #tfb community #sfw tickling

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juliandev0rak · 4 years

Note

You've answered multiple of my requests before (which were SO awesome) so I'd like to request another: Main 6 HC reactions to MC filling their jacket with whoopie cushions and surprise hugging their LI?

thank you so much for always sending requests 🥺 😭, they’re so fun to write and i’m glad you’ve enjoyed them! 💗

I altered this a bit to be more generally about pranking the Main 6 with whoopie cushions

Asra

you’ve been in a prank war with Asra for pretty much as long as you’ve known him

the two of you are in constant competition to make the other laugh and when you spot a whoopie cushion at the market you know you have to get it

you’ve got the whoopie cushion hidden in your coat pocket and you’re ready for a surprise attack the second he walks in the door

when he walks in a few minutes later you immediately ambush him in a hug and he stumbles back to catch you, arms wrapping around you

the cute moment is ruined when he leans against your left pocket and a loud farting noise resounds throughout the empty shop

”Asra!” you say in mock horror, leaning back from the hug to take in his surprised face

”I’m pretty sure that wasn’t me MC.” he smiles, immediately disregarding it and launching into a story about his day at the palace

you’re a little disappointed by his lack of a reaction but it does leave you the chance to keep pranking him, a situation you take full advantage of

the whoopie cushion becomes a constant joke between the two of you, each of you hiding it for the other to find in the most embarrassing of moments

Asra declares you a winner, and calls a truce, when you manage to hide the whoopie cushion under his chair at a fancy dinner with Nadia

Julian

you’ve been plotting this prank for days and Julian had, annoyingly, been thwarting your plans

when you saw the whoopie cushion in the market you devised the plan to hide it where he would sit on it, but after days of Julian somehow managing to sit everywhere but where you placed the cushion you’ve decided on more direct action

the two of you are headed out to the Rowdy Raven and as he leans down to pull on his boots you deftly sneak the whoopie cushion into his back pocket, leaving no chance for a prank screw up

you walk arm in arm through the bustling streets of the South End, barely able to suppress a laugh at the thought of your not-so-devious prank until you reach the familiar tavern

Julian greets the bartender and leads you over to your usual corner booth, gesturing for you to sit first

you watch in anticipation as he slides into the booth across from you and sits down just as the bartender comes over with your drinks

the farting noise is immediate and very loud and you burst into laughter, watching as Julian’s face grow bright red in embarrassment

”Well, that was quite something.” The bartender says with a laugh, setting the drinks down and bringing a hand up to clap Julian on the shoulder

“That wasn’t me!” Julian says, putting his hands up in defense

he shifts in his seat and manages to sit on the whoopie cushion again causing you to break out into another peal of laughter, tears running down your face

he looks at you suspiciously and reaches his hand down to his pocket, finally seeming to feel the whoopie cushion

“I’ll get you back for that.” He leans in close to your face, a dangerous smirk on his face

”I’d like to see you try.”

Nadia

you love making Nadia laugh, after all the stress she’s dealt with in her life the sound of her bell-like laugh makes your heart warm

you’ve never tried a prank like this though, and you’re not so sure she’ll find it as funny as you do

but she’s been worried about the courtiers lately and you know she could really use a laugh so you’ve devised your plan, she’d promised you a dinner with just the two of you in the dining room so you snuck in early to hide a whoopie cushion under her usual chair

you’re sitting at your chair primly waiting for her arrival but are surprised to see her walk in with all of the courtiers in tow

”I’m sorry my dear, I know I said it would be just the two of us but we have more business that needs to be attended to right away.” She says apologetically, you're not even mad you’re nervous, frantically trying to find a way to alert her not to sit down

you hadn’t wanted to embarrass her in front of anyone else, least of all the courtiers, but before you can warn her everyone takes their seats

the loud sound of fake flatulence echoes throughout the room and for a heart-stopping moment nobody reacts until suddenly Nadia breaks out into laughter, surprising everyone in the room

she reaches under the chair to find the whoopie cushion and holds it up for everyone to see, none of the courtiers seem to react until they can tell Nadia isn’t upset and after another moment of silence they burst into clearly-forced laughter (except for Valerius who rolls his eyes in distaste)

”What a clever trick, MC was this your doing?” Nadia smiles at you

”I-uh, yes Nadia, I didn’t know the others would be here.” you say, unable to suppress a laugh at the situation

”I shall just have to get you back then.” She grins

a few days later she does just that and all day long you find yourself sitting on whoopie cushions, in the library, at dinner, in your room, even somehow the bench you sit on in the gardens causes a loud farting sound

you don’t know how she manages to pull it off, whether she’d enlisted magical help or simply purchased hundreds of whoopie cushions and had them placed everywhere you might go, either way it makes both of you laugh all day

Muriel

he’s usually pretty shy about showing his emotions, but lately you’ve begun to see him breaking out of his shell, the occasional smile and laugh brightening his face

you do everything you can to make him smile, constantly cracking jokes and puns in the hopes of making him react

when you’re in town visiting Asra one day you spot a whoopie cushion in the market and buy it, hoping it’ll be just the thing to make Muriel laugh

you hide it in your coat pocket and when you get back to the hut that night you rush into Muriel’s arms

he’s taken aback by the sudden hug but his confusion only grows at the loud noise the hug emits

you laugh at his bewildered expression and pull the whoopie cushion out of your pocket to show him, “It makes a farting noise when you press on it, it’s funny!” you explain

”If you say so.” He says, but you notice a hint of a smile on his face

the next morning you sit down to breakfast with him and are surprised by the loud farting noise of the whoopie cushion hidden on your chair

you burst into laughter and watch as Muriel does the same, his eyes crinkling in a big smile

“Did I do it right?” he asks

”Yes!” you reassure him, “You’re a master prankster!”

”You’re so weird…” he grumbles though he’s still smiling at you

“But you love it” you tease, already trying to plot your next prank

“I do.”

Portia

you and Portia have a very playful relationship, always trying to make each other laugh and keep things light hearted

you’ve had water fights, food fights, even joke competitions, but your favorite way to make her laugh is tickling her because she’s incredibly ticklish

after she almost accidentally kicks you in the face while you’re tickling her, you decide to try a different kind of prank

you’ve been planning this little prank since the day you spotted a joke stall at the market, waiting for the perfect moment to put the dozens of whoopie cushions you bought on sale to good use

you arrive at her cottage with your pockets full of whoopie cushions, ready to strike

when she opens the door she pulls you into a hug and is immediately greeted by a symphony of flatulence

she looks at you in bewildered silence for a second before she starts laughing, nearly bursting into tears as you join her

”What was that MC?” she asks after you’ve both caught your breath

”Whoopie cushions!” you hold one up to show her and she takes it from you, sticking it into her pocket

”We’ve got to find a way to use this on Ilya!” she smiles deviously

”I like the way you think Portia, let’s plot.”

Lucio

Lucio’s got a good sense of humor for the most part, but any jokes at his expense send him into an immediate bad mood

you know better than to try to prank him with a whoopie cushion, instead you’ll use it on yourself

you fill your coat pockets with them, making sure you’ve got some on every side just in case, and leave your room to search the palace for Lucio

you find him quickly- walking down a stairwell towards you, flanked by Mercedes and Melchior

”Lucio!” you yell, flinging yourself dramatically into his arms

he catches you and his face spreads into a grin as he wraps his arms around you, the grin abruptly falling at the sound of dozens of whoopie cushions farting resounds throughout the stairwell

”Uh, MC?” he doesn’t seem to know how to react, he looks slightly awkward which isn’t an emotion he feels very often

”It was a prank, Lucio, it was just whoopie cushions!” you explain as he continues to look blankly at you

”What cushions?” he asks, one brow quirking up in question

you explain, holding up one of the cushions to show him and demonstrating how it works

you’re a bit surprised he hasn’t ever heard of them, it seems like the sort of prank he’d enjoy- a point proven when he abruptly bursts into laughter

”Oho, give me some of those!” He smiles gleefully, reaching his hands out to you “I’m gonna get the courtiers so bad at our next meeting!”

you might have created a monster...

#ty for the request 💗#me writing the words symphony of flatulence I AM A SERIOUS WRITER #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel the arcana #portia devorak #count lucio #lucio the arcana #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #portia the arcana

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babysizedfics · 4 years

Note

Hey uhh not to be a bother or anything but I’ve been having a tough time recently and your writing makes me smile so I wanna say thank you. And if you wouldn’t mind, do you think you could do a HC or those little mini stories you do with Patton and Virgil being cuddly together after Virgil being awake half the night? Maybe he has a routine he does with Virgil whenever he can’t sleep? If you can’t it’s okay. ❤️❤️

It's not a bother at all, I'm sorry you've had a rough time :( I hope this can bring some comfort!

EDIT: I didn't expect this to be a ficlet at all but it happened anyway! This was really sweet and fun to write, thank you for suggesting it <3

oOo

Title: Pillow

Summary: Virgil can't sleep. Papa Patton knows exactly how to get him to relax.

Word count: 2,000

Also on AO3!

oOo

When Virgil and Roman are both awake late at night, they have sleepovers... but on this particular night, when Virgil texts his brother "Hey you awake?" there is no reply. He waits a good hour, just in case Roman was just busy with something. But he soon realises Roman must be asleep for once.

It's not that Virgil isn't tired - he's exhausted - but his anxiety has been high for a couple of days. There is no obvious reason, sometimes it just acts up like that and it's incredibly annoying. He can't get to sleep because his mind is positively racing with worries and disastrous scenarios and insecurities. They're loud.

He tries to get through it alone. He went on Tumblr for a bit but most bloggers were asleep. He listened to some upbeat music to try to lift his mood but it just hurt his ears. He actually tried to be little on his own for the first time in months, but all it did was make him upset and remember all the times he was lonely and regressed and scared and suddenly he just can't be alone anymore.

He tiptoes to Patton's room, all the while internally berating himself. He's been busy this week, he needs time to rest. And you already cause him so much trouble being little all the time. You shouldn't wake him, it's not fair on him.

But by the time he has reached the door, and before he turns back having second thoughts, the door swings open. It always surprised Virgil just how light a sleeper Patton was.

'Vee? Are you okay, sweetheart?' Patton asks, immediately holding his arms out for Virgil.

He hurries into Patton's embrace and grips onto his pyjama shirt tightly, not daring to look up from the ground. Because Patton thinks he's little, doesn't he? Baby Vee is always allowed to wake up his Papa and Mama if he has a nightmare or an accident, but is adult Virgil allowed to?

But it's impossible to pretend he's regressed. Virgil hardly knows what he actually behaves like when he's little, and he can't bring himself to pretend. 'I'm... I dunno, I just can't sleep.'

A soft, warm thing presses to his forehead - a fingertip. 'Yucky thoughts?' Patton whispers, gently stroking over Virgil's brow.

With a small sigh, Virgil simply nods. His eyes are heavy and fall shut, letting the soothing touch calm him instantly.

'Let's get you a bottle, baby.'

Virgil's eyes snap open and he meets Patton's gaze at last. There is only compassion and fondness in the deep brown irises.

'But I'm not little,' Virgil says, frowning slightly. The only times Patton gave him a bottle was when he was either regressed or Patton needed him to be regressed. And even then it was only after Virgil had a panic attack or a nightmare, neither of which was true tonight.

Patton smiles and tucks Virgil's curtain of bangs behind his ear with thick fingertips. 'That doesn't mean we can't relax together. I'm not planning to sleep soon anyway.' He pulls Virgil into his arms again and the anxious side goes willingly, resting his cheek against the barrel chest and breathing deeply with each thumping beat of his Papa's heart. 'Doesn't warm milk and In The Night Garden sound relaxing, honey?'

Virgil merely nods. He's not little, but that does sound calming.

oOo

Within minutes - and after a quick detour to Virgil's room where they acquired Minty - they're in the kitchen. Usually, Virgil would not like to be in the room when the stove is on since it is an open flame. Watching the bright blue flames dance precariously around the saucepan of oat milk makes Virgil's heart leap with every flicker. But he couldn't bear the idea of being away from Patton's side at that moment.

'See, nothing happened,' Patton says, extinguishing the flame and stirring the milk. 'We're all safe, stormcloud.'

Virgil swallows around a lump of nerves and starts picking at his lower lip with his fingernails. He grips Minty tighter to his chest with his other hand. 'All safe,' he repeats under his breath.

There is a metallic clatter and Virgil lifts his gaze from his feet which swing back and forth as he sits on a tall barstool. Papa is smiling at him, the wooden mixing spoon abandoned in the saucepan. 'You're such a brave boy.'

Warmth blooms on Virgil's cheeks. He shakes his head and pulls Minty up to his chin. 'No 'm not.'

'Yes you are,' Patton insists. He makes quick work of transferring the milk into one of Virgil's baby bottles. The sight of it - with a vintage-style image of Eeyore and some butterflies printed onto the side of it - puts a warm, swirly feeling in Virgil's chest. Papa walks over to him and strokes his cheek. It's kind of cold. 'You're my brave little baby.'

All of a sudden tears are burning Virgil's eyes. He takes the tip of his thumb out from between his lips. (When did that get there?) Talking is harder than he remembers it being a few minutes ago. 'No brave... th-scared.'

'Y'know you're allowed to be brave and scared,' Papa says and makes a surprised face. He puts his hands on Virgil's sides and then there's a whoosh of air and the seat is gone under him but now Papa's arm is under him. Virgil is being carried on Papa's hip.

He holds Papa's shoulder tight with one hand, Minty balanced in the crook of his arm. His thumb is back in his mouth. 'Bof?' he whispers.

'Mhm, both. Brave means you do things even when they're scary. Because you know it's important.' Papa kisses Virgil's forehead and it makes him smile. 'Were you scared to come get Papa?'

Virgil looks up at his papa and doesn't know what Papa feels. Does he look sad? Angry? He's not smiling. He doesn't look very happy. Tears start falling down Virgil's cheeks and he whimpers.

'Shh, baby, it's okay if you were scared. Papa's not angry or upset with you.' Then the world is a bit bouncy and Virgil doesn't know why but it makes him stop crying.

He sniffles and it's wet and kind of yucky. He wriggles and tries to hug Papa tighter but it's hard 'cause he's cuddling Minty too. Papa's arm under him is going up and down but then it stops and pulls him closer, tighter, stronger. The world isn't bouncy anymore but it's warm because Papa is warm. And it's nice.

'It was a bit scary to come and get Papa, wasn't it, sweetie?'

Virgil sucks his thumb more. He nods then a little sound comes out from his throat. Another tear trickles down his cheek.

Papa kisses it away. 'And even though it was scary, my clever little stormcloud came to get me anyway because he knew it was the right thing to do.' Another kiss on his other cheek made Virgil hum. 'I think that's very brave.'

For a bit, Virgil tries to remember why he thought he wasn't brave. But it's really tricky. Memories are fuzzy. Plus Papa always knew way more than he did. So Virgil must have been brave.

That makes another smile stretch his lips, bigger this time. His thumb slips out of his mouth.

'There's my happy little baby!' Papa says and smiles big and squiggles a finger on Virgil's side.

It tickles and Virgil giggles. 'Papa, tibble!' Then his head feels foggy and heavy. Then he yawns and the feeling goes away.

'Aww, precious boy. Let's go get you a diaper, then we're gonna have milk and watch Iggle Piggle!'

That's one of Virgil's favorite things to do in the whole world! He nods and kicks his feet a little bit, trying to show that he wants to get moving.

'All right, all right, I get it,' Papa laughs. Then they start moving. 'Giddyup Papa, huh?'

More giggles come from Virgil's lips and he rests his head on Papa's shoulder as they go back upstairs.

Getting changed into a diaper used to be really scary, but now it's okay. Papa smiles at him and sings a pretty song really quiet and Virgil is allowed to hug Minty really tight when he doesn't like a feeling. Then he is changed and it's soft and comfy and it makes him feel really safe and happy. It makes funny crinkly noises and they make tingles go all over his head and he thinks he is floating.

Virgil doesn't remember how, but then there is a paci in his mouth. Pacis are smooth on his tongue! And then they are on the couch in the living room and there is the In The Night Garden music coming from the TV.

He looks around, confused. Where did his room go? He wriggles in Papa's lap and whines, 'Baba.'

'What's wrong, baby?' Papa asks.

Virgil pouts. He wants to know where his room went and where Minty went, but he can't move his mouth. He squeezes the soft stuff in his hands tighter. Then he gasps and looks down. Minty! He cuddles the dino to his chest and smiles.

'You love Minty, don't you, Vee?'

Virgil nods his head. 'Wub.'

There are fingers in his hair, stroking. It makes more of those tingles go over him, like when it's bathtime and Papa pours warm water on his back. It's really nice. 'Can Papa give you your bottle now?'

That question is kind of hard. Papa wants to give Virgil something. But now. Does Papa want to know when Vee wants something? Virgil is confused and it's not a nice feeling. He looks at Papa and tries to tell him that with his eyes.

'Oh, you're super tiny tonight. That was a bit advanced for you then,' Papa says really quiet. Virgil definitely doesn't know what that means. 'Do you want your milky?'

That question was a bit louder and it makes lots more sense. Virgil whines and scrunches his toes in the couch cushion. It means yes and Papa usually knows that.

'Come here, angel,' Papa whispers. He wraps his arms around Virgil and turns him. Virgil isn't facing Papa and sitting up anymore, now he's sideways in Papa's lap. He's kind of lying down, but instead of a pillow under his head, it's Papa's arm. It's warmer and stronger and safer than a pillow.

Then Virgil's mouth is empty. He doesn't like it. There's no more smooth on his tongue, the pretty paci is gone. He whines and feels tears building in his eyes again. He wants his paci back.

Iggle Piggle is jingling and squeaking on the TV.

There's a different smooth on his tongue now. It's warm and it tastes different, but it's still smooth. Virgil sighs and sucks on it like a paci, then there's sweet, creamy, warm stuff on the back of his tongue and he swallows it. It makes his tummy happy. Milk!

A quiet, happy sound comes from him and he keeps drinking the milk. The strong, warm pillow lifts his head up a little bit more then puts his head on something else. It's a bigger, warmer, softer, stronger pillow. It goes Boom boom, Boom boom, Boom boom. Virgil likes this one the best.

Things are different then. The room is a little bit darker and it makes Virgil's eyes happy. Virgil isn't drinking milk anymore and that makes him a bit sad, but his tummy feels full and warm and he doesn't want more milk anyway.

He isn't sideways on Papa's lap anymore, he's sitting backwards in it. He can't see Papa but there's still the Boom boom pillow under his head and that feels just as nice as seeing Papa. Virgil can see the TV. There are trees and grass and Upsy Daisy in a pretty dress. The sound is different - Iggle Piggle isn't jingling and squeaking anymore. Instead, there's plinky-plonky music and a man is speaking with a voice that's kind of like Mama's. It's deep and strong and it makes Virgil's heart feel like a balloon.

His eyes are falling shut. It feels safe.

'Night night, my sweet little one,' Papa's voice says. The pillow rumbles at the same time.

Virgil squeaks and turns his head and smushes his cheek on it. Boom boom. Boom boom.

'Wuboo.'

His eyes are really heavy. Everything goes black.

Boom boom.

oOo

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