#it's generally going to have to be by himself. alone

[pellucid-constellations]

Trial and Error (8)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You came to Velaris under duress five years ago—pregnant, alone, and in hiding from something, or someone, too dangerous to even speak aloud. When your daughter begged you to go to school years after settling down in the apartment above a worn-down apothecary, you obliged her. But things still didn't feel safe. Azriel was going to do everything in his power to give you that safety. At least, he would try. 

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, references to an abusive family

a/n: Here is part 8!! yayy!! (and also sorry hehe oops)

Series Masterlist (all parts)

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

Within the echo of your hurried footsteps on the creaking apothecary floor, your labored breaths were plentiful and difficult to quell. You had sent Melanie upstairs the moment you unlocked the door, a feigned smile creating the guise that she needed to hurry and pack her things for her sleepover later. That’s why you had rushed away from the school. Not because you feared for… several things at the meeting of the General of the Night Court. 

Melanie believed you, too distracted by her excitement to remain fixated on her confusion.

That was good. 

She was fine. You were fine. 

Would you stay fine? 

Cassian was not dangerous, according to Azriel, but Cassian was loyal to the Night Court. Azriel had assured you that his family would never put you or your daughter in harm's way, but that had never been what made you feel safest around him. 

“It has been carved into my chest from the moment we locked eyes.”

“I have waited for my mate for centuries. I have dreamed of you and wanted you, and I don’t know if that scares you, but I hope it can be some consolation.”

“I want to be all in with the two of you. My life has… it’s changed. It’s different now, because of you.”

It was Azriel himself that made you feel safe—that made you trust. And even though you knew you could trust his words, you couldn’t trust Cassian. You didn’t know Cassian, and even worse, Azriel had told you one too many times how much of a loudmouth he was. He wouldn’t tell the High Lord about you in a malicious way, but it would end poorly. This would all end poorly. You should leave. You should—

The door to the apothecary swung open with a force, the knob smacking into the wall on its way. You turned in anticipatory fear, hand over your heart, but much of that melted away when it was Azriel alone walking through the entryway. 

He seemed to take stock of you first, looking for something by your feet that he did not find before moving to your hands, your shoulders, and behind you on the counter. When he completed his search, his shoulders dropped an inch, wings perking up from their drooped position. 

“Melanie?” he asked, feet rooted to the floor across the room.

You brought your hand up to clasp your forearm, the position protecting you from nothing. “She’s upstairs packing.” 

Azriel’s expression fractured. “Packing?” he croaked. The single word was almost unintelligible; it cracked and got lost in the deep timbre of his voice. 

“For her sleepover. She’s still going to—” 

You were interrupted by his boots closing the space between you. You felt him before you could catch up with his movements, his shadows slurring against your skin and into your hair. His forehead pressed against yours next, but when you went to search his expression, his eyes squeezed shut.

“I thought—” he began, brows furrowing and creating yet another crease on his face. “I thought I would find you leaving. I thought I scared you away this time.” 

Your chest cracked open, heart pounding against your ribs until it hurt. You wouldn’t tell him that your thoughts had gone to that. You wouldn’t share that just moments before he burst in, your fingers had twitched as you thought about the one trunk you kept in the back of the closet upstairs. 

You were used to running. 

Running felt safe. 

Azriel was the only thing that felt safer. 

Your tongue darted out to wet your drying lips as you replied, “No. No, Azriel. Mel is just packing for the night.” 

You had decided that the second he walked—or, rather, stormed—into the apothecary. You had decided that without the thought even materializing in your mind. 

Azriel’s hands, which had made a home along the back of your neck, slid up to cup your jaw. His eyes fluttered open, eager to meet yours, and a bittersweet smile lit them up in a devastating way. “Okay,” he seemed to say to himself. “Okay, good. I’m—I’m sorry. About Cassian. He’s agreed to keep his meeting you quiet.” 

There was something he was leaving out. The words were there, lingering in the dark parts of your mind. So you spoke them. 

“For now,” you nodded, clasping his wrists. “Quiet for now, you mean.” 

“No, he’s agreed—” 

“Az, we both know that there are too many moving parts here. Cassian may have agreed or promised or have good intentions, but there are also two five-year-olds in the mix and, eventually, you will have to explain why you keep disappearing from family events. Like Cassian said—” 

“I don’t care what Cassian said.” 

“I know,” you whispered. He was scared. You could tell by the way his hands trembled against you. You weren’t sure what else scared the Shadowsinger, but you hated that you were part of something he feared. 

“I have waited for my mate for centuries. I have dreamed of you and wanted you.” 

“I can—”

“Aziel, stop,” you softly commanded. “It’s inevitable.” 

“Tell me who you’re hiding from,” he practically begged. His wings stretched forward like shadows at your sides, protecting you from nothing. “I can fix it. I—You and Mel would be safer if—” 

You pressed forward on your toes, and you kissed him. 

He paused for a moment, his mouth stiff in shock against yours, but it only took a single breath for him to snap back to the present. Weeks of built-up tension and pressing truths and want poured into the way his lips reverently moved against yours. His touch, still a slight tremor lingering in the joints, moved up until his fingers found the base of your hair. He stepped forward twice, and your back met the front counter. 

He only kissed you harder as your right hand left his wrist to steady yourself on the counter. He kissed you harder and he brought his arm around your back to take the responsibility on himself. His hand in your hair bunched at the roots but didn’t tug or pull—it was like he couldn’t help it, like the want to bring you closer resulted in stiff limbs and clenching fists. 

You could have kissed him forever. He was keeping you safe here, his wings closing in even more if the light meeting your closed lids told you anything. His shadows brushed your skin, keeping you distracted enough for him to be in control of the kiss, but that wasn’t true; you knew in the small moments of hesitance that he would let you do anything—control anything. 

When you broke apart, chest heaving and lashes fluttering, Azriel trailed a few lingering kisses to your cheeks and at your temple. Those were familiar places, territories he’d allowed himself before you’d given such express permission as you had right now. His own breath was somewhat labored, but he wouldn’t stop touching you, wouldn’t fully pull away. 

“When I said it was inevitable—” you breathed out, bringing both hands to rest on the plane of his chest. “—I meant it was inevitable that I would have to meet your family. That they would know of me and… and Mel. I didn’t mean that I was going to leave.” 

Azriel’s nose nudged against your cheek. A beat of silence followed your words. He pulled back a few inches, tucked your hair behind your ears, and let his eyes trace each of your features. 

“You don’t have to. I don’t want you to feel forced just because of Cassian. I could make an excuse.”

He was giving you an out. You weren’t sure how he would possibly swing it, but Azriel was offering you more hiding. More secrets. The ability to have him without being tied down by his family and the role in the court that you so obviously feared. So many implications came with his offer. So many sacrifices he would have to make. 

The scales were tipping. Things were changing. Maybe they could know you and be none the wiser. Maybe… 

“I—I want to, Azriel. Melanie doesn’t deserve to be living in fear. Even if she doesn’t understand it right now.” 

Azriel looked down towards your mouth, expression pained in a lingering wince. He continued brushing your hair back—a nervous habit, maybe, one flourishing since you’d allowed him to really touch you. 

“And maybe I could explain things to you tonight. Fully. That way you can know what you might be bringing to your family before—”

“You are my family,” Azriel breathed out, the words not even in the air for a second before his mouth was on yours again. 

This kiss was slower, more purposeful, holding more meaning. 

It was cut short by stomps down the stairs. Azriel tore himself away from you, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip once before pulling his wing back to reveal Melanie with an overfilled bag dragging behind her. Stuffed animals and at least four pairs of socks peeked out from the top, and you were quickly reminded why you never let her pack her anything. 

“What the heck are you guys doing?” Melanie questioned, frustration her primary emotion. “No one even came to help me! Mr. Azriel, only one of your shadows was hanging out with me, and I didn’t get my after-school snack.” 

Azriel took half a step back from you and schooled his face into a more managed calm, sincerity evident in his palm over his chest. “I apologize, Melanie. How rude of me. How about I come up and make your snack while you and your mom sort out the bag for your sleepover?” 

“I already packed it,” she drawled as if Azriel were blind, shaking the strap in her hand. “But I guess I would like a snack.” 

You pressed your fingers over your mouth to stop the laugh from tumbling out. Azriel shot you a playful side eye and squeezed your hip before meeting Melanie at the base of the stairs. 

“Oh, I can see that. But you can barely close it, Mel.” He gently took the bag from her, hauling it over his shoulder before lifting her to rest on his hip. “Anyways. Cheese and apples or the crackers I brought from my friend Sevenda?”

~~

Nervous energy permeated the room, the majority of it coming from you in droves. Some trickled from Azriel, but he hid it well within his constant movements. 

Melanie was next door. You had eaten dinner together. You were cleaning the kitchen now, a mundane task that could have been done later, but you were clearly using it as a way to bide time. Azriel was allowing it—he would always let you do this at your own pace. 

The more you dwelt on your previous plan of only telling Azriel who Melanie’s father was, the more it made no sense to you. If you only told him that piece of the story, he would still fail to understand why you’d run. He would know the name and position of one man and nothing else. 

It had to be everything. 

You chewed on the inside of your lip as the cleaning came to an end. Azriel made a show of hanging up the small towel by the basin and rubbing his hands together in finality. More time he was allowing. 

“The fire?” you asked, motioning to the sitting room. Azriel offered you a small smile and pressed his hand to your back, guiding you to the loveseat there. 

Your stomach was turning. He made no motion to urge you, mirroring you as you sat turned to face your mate. 

Your mate and you still hadn’t felt the bond. 

You picked at your fingers as they lay in your lap. 

It didn’t take Azriel long to cover your hands with one of his. “You don’t have to do this. I don’t need to know if you aren’t ready.” 

“I am ready,” you emphasized. “I trust you. Completely.” 

Azriel leaned down. “Then what’s wrong?” 

He would judge you. He would hate where you came from. He would turn you away. 

Before, it had been about safety—about protecting Melanie. If anyone knew who you were or who she was, they would turn you in. The reward for doing so was hefty and money was always a driving force. While Azriel may not have been swayed by money, a bargaining chip between rival courts was also nothing to bat an eye at. 

But he wouldn’t do that. You were sure of it. 

Now your fear lay in his reaction to the truth. 

“Nothing,” you assured, your smile tight and wrong as you looked up at him. “Just nervous, I guess.” 

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your temple, but he did not remain there. Azriel gave you space, not touching you, but leaving his hands within reach if you needed them. You would tell this story alone.

“I won’t interrupt,” he said, voice carrying a regalness you hadn’t heard from him. 

A deep breath. “I’m from Autumn, but you knew that. Melanie’s father is also from Autumn. He doesn’t know about her, though I think he might suspect since I ran with no contact after we…” You looked down at your hands. “We weren’t together. I’ve never been in a relationship. Never been allowed to.” You tilted your head to the side. “I grew up as a court lady. Trained to be one, anyway. My marriage was not planned at birth, but it was very carefully calculated by Beron.” 

You felt Azriel shift on the loveseat, the cushions jostling you. When you looked up, his brows had lowered in concentration or confusion, you couldn’t tell. True to his word, he did not interrupt. 

“When it was finally decided, I knew I couldn’t go through with it. The man they chose was a high-ranking noble from Spring, and he was—well, he was vile. About 3 centuries older than me, with a propensity for violence against women and multiple deceased wives. If you can connect the dots there,” you spit out. “But it’s not as if Beron or my… my father cared about that. They only wanted what would come from the union. Spring and Autumn finally chained together when High Lord Tamlin was at his weakest. They tried to force the union with Tamlin himself, but he’s been too much of a wreck to agree to much of anything.” 

Azriel let out a breath as if he had gone to speak and thought better of it. You looked up at him with a searching gaze, but he only shook his head slightly and motioned for you to continue.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “I’m telling this out of order. It’s difficult to gather my thoughts, but all of that is to say I had an arranged marriage I couldn’t go through with. My… brothers were all for it as well. There was going to be an announcement across Pyrithian and Beron was practically foaming at the mouth to have it all finalized. So, I ruined it. 

“Gods, I had no idea what I was doing, just that there was only one way that awful man wouldn’t want me anymore. He had made it quite clear that my virtue was of utmost importance to him, which was exactly why I was hidden away for most of my life. That, and they were all waiting until I was most useful.” 

You were starting to get angry now, and that inevitably led to you getting choked up. Your throat constricted and you twisted your mouth to the side when your nose started to burn. It was infuriating that after all this time, this still affected you this way. You bit your cheek and took a deep breath. It helped a little. 

“Do you want a break?” Azriel softly asked, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. 

“No.” You let out a wet laugh and palmed at the wetness under your eye. “I’ve only been talking for a few minutes. I just get angry, I’m fine.” 

You paused after that, collecting yourself, but also getting lost in your head. Memories swirled together and assaulted your thoughts, reminding you of how terrible everything was and could be if this went poorly. Anxiety then came. And regret and confusion and hurt. 

You were too far off track to get back on the rails, so Azriel broke his own rule. “Why would you be useful, angel?” he asked, tracing his hand down to hold yours in your lap. 

“Oh,” you sighed, “Because I’m Beron’s daughter.”

[demigod-shenanigans]

I’ve had a convo about the teasing line with another person in the replies before, but that’s not how I personally interpret it! Leo pointing out Jason doesn't tease him is something that’s very specific to this situation because it’s a situation he feels vulnerable/embarrassed about due to past experiences. It’s not that Leo minds teasing in general. Leo teases people all the time and also makes fun of himself plenty as a coping mechanism. It’s normal that other people will tease him back a little in return, and that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Plenty of friendships include mutual teasing, and that’s fine as long as it’s not malicious and you know what boundaries not to cross (General example here: I feel like Piper may joke about Leo being married to his tools because he disappears into the workshop so much (which is a joke I can even see Leo leaning into for the bit), but she wouldn't stark cracking jokes about his mom, for obvious reasons.)

Leo has teasing relationships with a lot of people. And that’s not a bad thing. But joking things off is kind of his thing. Leo isn’t usually the guy who goes “hey, don’t joke about specific thing X because it’s something I feel insecure about or have made bad experiences with in the past”. He would probably much rather explode himself a second time. And him not talking about his past experiences outside of jokes (in this specific case: the bad experiences he made at foster homes), there’s no way for other people to know this is something he feels insecure about. Him laying there hugging a statue probably did look kind of ridiculous. If someone else had walked in and made a joke about it, it probably wouldn’t have been with malicious intent.

But Jason can read Leo better than anyone else does. He picks up on his insecurities and his coping mechanisms and small changes in his behavior that no one else notices. (My favorite example of this: the fact that, post-Calypso, Jason immediately picks up on the fact that something is wrong with Leo because he’s not fidgeting and he remembers Leo doesn’t drink coffee so him drinking coffee now strikes him as weird/concerning. And then he also immediately knows Leo won’t want to have that conversation in front of the others, so he decides to pull him aside later, when they’re alone.)

And like, considering past experiences, the fact that Jason can read Leo like that should terrify him. He deflects and doesn’t talk about stuff because he can’t stand to be vulnerable in front of other people. But Jason sees him. And he treats him gently. And he doesn’t have to be told which boundaries not to cross (which, in some cases, are stuff Leo just isn’t ready to verbally get into) because he knows Leo well enough that he’s able to tell without Leo having to say anything at all. And it’s a relief. It’s comforting. Leo likes having a person who just sees him and can tell when he’s having a vulnerable moment without him having to admit it out loud. (So, yeah, I do think that bit is gay as hell, I don’t think it fundamentally means all of Leo’s other friends are garbage, though.)

The bit where Leo is describing Jason is even funnier because in Mark of Athena Leo had a section where he’s narrating going “I usually don’t pay attention to the way guys look, probably because I hang out with Jason”. Followed immediately by a description of what Jason looks like and how girls don’t notice him because Jason is being so attractive in his general vicinity. I adore this little train wreck bisexual.

Leo. Genuine question. How much time did you spend staring at Jason’s lips to figure that one out?

[diz-eaze]

thinking about the intimacy of visions,,,, and visions with yans in general.

; includes; childe, escoffier, sethos, xilonen, diluc, arlecchino, albedo, emilie, wanderer, ifa, & shenhe.

; yandere, yandere themes, some of them being freaks per usual, unhealthy relationships, minor suggestive content for some, mentions of captivity for a few, not proofread i both rushed and wrote this in one go.

childe exchanges his hydro vision with your vision before engaging in combat. of course, his element doesn't change: it's still his water blades that glide through the enemies' skin as if mere butter, but there's romance to be found in their last moments, being the vision situated on his belt, glinting its eerie glow at them in farewell. a sense of pride sprouts from the recesses of his chest, stemming from his beating heart as he thinks of your vision as a form of reaper that sends off their souls to the afterlife. should your vision be stained by their blood, then childe will dutifully take on the task of wiping it clean, not stopping until he greets himself in its reflection. he takes great care of your vision, seeing as it was his idea in the first place, yet he hopes that you also take care of his in a similar way.

escoffier finds your vision out of pure coincidence. she finds it haphazardly lying on the ground floor of hotel debord, disconnected from its usual place on your thigh strap. it's only logical to assume that you lost it and haven't a clue, so in an act of kindness, escoffier bends down to pick up the dainty thing. once in her grasp, she twists and turns it around to inspect as she walks back to her kitchen. yet in her palm, the sight of your vision flows into her psyche, poisoning her mind with debaucherous thoughts of what she can do right now. it's not right, that she knows, yet temptation runs deep when she thinks about how your vision is so often strapped to your thigh.... with a bite of her lip, escoffier retreats to the very back of the kitchen, where her sins are unknown to all but herself. her tongue peeks out from between her lips, she nears your vision to the base of her mouth, and she licks it from bottom to top, all while feeling the cold metal of its casing.

sethos uses your vision as a bargaining chip, holding it high above your head as he waves it back and forth in taunt, saying that you have to do this and that for him in order to get it back. once back in your grasp, he'll challenge you to a 'friendly spar' to keep your senses sharp, or so he says. but even with the ba fragment gone from him, his strength is still commendable, as he has no qualms with defeating you even with your vision. you always feel like a sore loser afterwards, too, and he'd be there to wriggle into your side as he coos out comfort and compliments, half-baked they may be. should you permanently let go of your vision, and refuse to take it back from him, you'll find yourself in a similar standing to those shogunate soldiers who went mindless after their visions were ceased - sethos retells you this tale whenever you're being a tad bit too bratty with him.

xilonen, in classic artisan fashion, forges customized accessories specially tailored for your vision, all under your behest and wishes. she'll yawn and roll her eyes at the request, yet less than a day later, you'll find her holding out the newly crafted item in front of your jaw-slacked figure. you'll laugh and thank her, excitedly attaching the charm to the bottom of your vision, completely missing the phlogiston engraving she had embedded in. it's nothing new, really, this is how she's always done your vision accessory requests for ages, and you've remained blissfully unaware in your own euphoric joy. she may not personally seek you out to follow around natlan, but through feeling your steps and location from the phlogiston alone, is enough to satisfy her.

diluc, for all his morally questionable actions, longingly encases your vision between his fingers as he drifts to slumber every night. since you're not quite ready to share a bed with him just yet, he settles his perpetual yearning by sleeping with your vision under your reluctant acceptance. the constant glow it radiates often causes him to envision that it's you by his side, sleeping soundly with your body fitting into his like gears clicking into place, yet reality often disappoints when he opens his eyes to empty space and the vision still in his hand. beggars can't be choosers, still, his longing is starting to seep through the bottle supposed to contain it, and it's only a matter of time before he tires of the glass orb and instead breaches the topic of sleeping together once more over dinner.

arlecchino persistently insists on giving you her pyro vision as a protection charm, seeing as you lack the means of one. her innate power stemming from the balemoon curse is more than enough to protect her, even without the vision or her delusion. while it grants you no actual power, the meaning of arlecchino offering it up for your hands to grasp is clear; she will always be your protector. she herself will be your vision to wield, the power for you to use as you see fit. her vision, her curse, and her delusion are all yours, similar to the rest of her. offering up her vision is not a sign of submission, but that of sacrifice. arlecchino lays down the gift from the gods at your feet as a taste of the lengths she can and will go through for you.

albedo is intrigued enough to research the complexities of visions. it's within his nature as a researcher and alchemist to probe into the mysteries that plague teyvat, and visions are no exception to this. however, rather than using his own vision as his test subject, he uses yours instead. it's a multi-faceted reason; he sees you more often, he gets to touch an item you often touch, he learns more about visions, and he learns more about you. as far as he's concerned, studying up on visions is a goldmine of opportunities and interactions with you, and he's not willing to pass up on such an offer anytime soon. he'll study you under the microscope, no different from studying your vision.

emilie, during the times she's forced into combat, greatly prefers to stick to one elemental reaction. her dendro vision glows brightly as she channels her innate power into fruition, yet she'll look behind her to see if you've already applied pyro to the surrounding area of the enemies before making her move. burning. it's the only reaction she ever creates during battle, even more so if with your pyro vision there to enable hers. frankly, nothing else gets her going more than this. in the aftermath of the battle, the horrendous smell of burnt fabric and smoke lingering in the air disturbs the romantic ambience she was going for, and so she creates floral scents from her dendro vision to mask the displeasing smell. like this, life is perfect - consisting of only you and her, nothing else. pyro may burn dendro into nothing more than ashes, yet with her dynamic with you, it seems as if the places have been switched despite all logic.

wanderer falls back into hideous habits, one specially gifted by his former self, most likely, in the form of keeping a captive in his temporary place on the outskirts of the main city. with your current situation in mind (and less than savory responses...), he's forced to attend classes and duties without your company. to remedy this, wanderer opts for settling your vision right next to his anemo one whenever he goes out. the clinking caused by the two visions constantly colliding into each other as he walks creates a cacophony of sounds that seems so euphoric to his ears. there is something so exhilarating about your vision being entwined with his. it causes a smile to itch on his lips, it leaves a pleasant tingle down his spine, and anticipation at the tips of his fingers as he counts down the seconds until he's able to see you once more. old habits die hard, though this specific habit is one he's not letting go of anytime soon. love has always been selfish in that regard.

ifa's anemo attacks strike harder and faster whenever you're around, evident by the constantly stronger teal color of the item at his back. some may assume that this is done on purpose to show off in your presence, yet what most fail to take into account is that ifa is unaware of this phenomenon that only you can cause. it's subconscious; his anemo bullets fire off with astounding speed, and he maneuvers through the air with a sense of expertise that's not even found in soaring qucusaurs. though, the truth behind his increased strength around you is caused by the intense feelings he experiences. his ardor simply cannot be contained within just his body, and is thus transferred into his vision, wherein his capabilities surpass what he's used to. feelings of madness is what propels ifa to greater heights, and while it seems idealistic at surface level, this illusion will fall apart once he's made aware of this and decides to utilize it against you. for a man of intellect, it'll only be a few days before truth dawns upon him.

shenhe firmly believes that her cryo vision only serves one purpose: that being to serve you. her cryo clone is created with the sole intention to protect you, while she fights enemies head-on without you ever having to lift a single finger. when visiting her during work, shenhe will protect you from the smoldering heat inside wanmin using her cryo to cool you off. should a single bead of sweat form on your face, a frown will appear on hers for hours to come. when you crave icy treats, she's two steps ahead by having already frozen them beforehand. it's comedic, even endearing, at how eager shenhe is to please you using the power bestowed upon her from the heavenly principles. yet the use of her cryo vision extends past helping you with trivial tasks and wants. it's especially useful when it comes to extermination, death caused by hypothermia rather than slaughter is considerably easier to clean up in the byproduct of such actions. in her belief, her cryo vision is nothing if it can't help or serve you.

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

hihiii sooo 'should i?' is my favourite of your au's can i please request for hongjoong with 219, 203, 207, and please please 214!!!! maybe filming a cnc video.... god i'm drooling just thinking about it

➯a/n: i'm gonna faint 🫠 hongjoong is my bias and "Should I?" hongjoong is like hdvsjejabdeo anywho- ENJOY, I WENT OVERBOARD ! WHOS SURPRISED ? NO ONE LMAOOO

Cash, Grass, or Ass? (Nobody Rides For Free)

Should I?: Part Four

❥Kim Hongjoong x fem reader

❥K.H. x J.Y. x S.M. x fem reader

207 + 214: bondage/restraint + cnc

✈︎queued for: tues 3rd

(>ᴗ•)genre: smut, amateur p0rn⭐️ au

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: not proof read ( sorry, i'm impatient ), 219 dacryphilia, filming, roleplaying as strangers, reader wears "girly-girl" clothes, 207 bondage/restraint: with rope, mean rough nasty dom joong, 203 praise + degradation double whhhhammy !!, finger sucking, safe word in place but not used, getting into subspace, dumbification, a few hair pulls, stocking / sock kink, squirting, choking ( with hands + cock ), knife play ( omg i never wrote for this before but 🫣 ), road head + rough blow job: face fucking / head pushing / gagging / messy, spit, cock warming via mouth (?), a few slaps, messy cunnilingus, 'forced' orgasms, creampie, aftercare, 214 cnc: reader cries, struggles, begs, 'stop' & joong forces, mocks, threatens but everything is previously agreed upon !! this is depicting roleplay ! name calling including: stupid, girl, slut, brat / sicko, pervert. pet names including: little siren ( still have not moved on tbh ), princess, sweetheart / sir, captain

➯cnc disclaimer: CONSENT IS SEXY. all parties are and always will be consenting in my stories. cnc is a way to explore power dynamics and it's attractive to many people, it does not "promote s/a", the first c is CONSENSUAL. you should only ever do it with someone who you trust. be safe and stay freaky !!

♡masterlist + tag form !♡

₊‧⁺stardust˖⋆ @everyonewooeverywhere @willowwyy @sousydive @sunnysidesins @onyxmango @devilzliaison @ateezswonderland @queenofdumbfuckery @emilysecresy

➯a/n2: little treat for an idea i have for another chapter at the end kkkkk

18+.MINORS GET LOST.

━༻❁༺━

"Need a ride?"

Hongjoong's voice makes your heart flutter.

Six and a half months after you first met in person; you find yourself in the middle of nowhere on a seemingly never ending desolate road in the countryside, his car pulling up next to you.

It's far from the first time you've ever been alone with him. But something feels different. Knowing what's in store is making you flustered — more so than usual.

Hongjoong was so excited that he fell out of his seat when you said you wanted to role-play a non-con scene with him; crawling on his knees to you and putting his hands in a prayer stance as he eagerly accepted.

You, Mingi, and Yunho had made a few videos like that before you even met. And all of them are still, to this very day, in his liked videos. His favorite has to be the one where Yunho was 'teaching' Mingi how to fuck — using you, all tied up and crying, as a demonstration doll. He fantasized about tying you up himself, probably one too many times to be sane, as he recorded his own videos.

In your liked videos, along with the one where he fucks a fleshlight so hard that he breaks it, is one of him talking about how he wants to tie up a pretty girl and make her choke on his cock. Not knowing that he was talking about you until he admitted it a few months ago. He wanted to do the same to Mingi, to 'see his little puppy dog eyes while he tries to get away'.

But — you were first. You knew, generally, what to expect. All of you are very open about what is and isn't on the table, and you all respect each other's boundaries. What you didn't know, is just how much it would make your heart thud while pretending that Hongjoong is a stranger.

In your mini-skirt, you saunter over to his car. Folding your arms on the lowered window, you lean down; giving him a good look down your loose tank top. Showing off your lacy bra.

He's already hard. The idea of what's about to happen had him hard the second he woke up — knowing that today's the day. Yunho had given him a blowjob to take some of the edge off, but it's already back. And the cute little outfit he had yet to see was making his hands twitch. Wanting to grab at you and get the show on the road.

"Yeah, my boyfriend dumped me on the side of the road." Which, technically, isn't a lie. Mingi had drove you out and gave you a kiss and a smirk, telling you to 'have fun'.

"Sounds like he's an idiot." He reaches over and pops the door open for you, "leaving such a pretty girl."

When you open up the door, his member twitches in his pants. He had seen it from afar, but up close was always something different. Your long socks. White and lacy, just like your bra.

The camera on the dash catches his smirk as he eyes you while you settle yourself in the passenger seat.

Oh. You think as you look over at him, he's going to fuck me up so good.

"So," he leans forward a bit, and you have to remind yourself to lean back.

"Cash, grass, or ass?"

"...what?"

"Which one are you going to pay me with?" He reaches over and touches your hair, in a way that could be described as affectionately — if not for the burning lust in his eyes. "Don't you know? Nobody rides for free."

"I don't have anything- I- I left my purse in the car."

"Ass it is."

He had locked the doors before you even had a chance to try and grab the handle.

"What the fuck, dude?" You pause as you turn back to face him, coming face to face with the pocket knife that he brandishes at you nonchalantly. He raises his eyebrow, smirk planted firmly on his lips.

"Ass it is?" He asks, tracing the flat of the blade on your jaw. "I'd hate to ruin such a pretty face."

God, he should be an actor. You think, gulping as he trails the knife down slowly. He would never hurt you. But the fact that he could...

You know he's going to mock you for how wet your panties are becoming.

"Ass it is."

"Smart choice, sweetheart," he places the knife on his thigh, holding it there as a 'reminder' as he starts driving. "Come suck my cock."

You almost choke on your saliva. He's always blunt and direct with his orders, but the edge in his voice is extra sultry today. "If you make me cum before we stop, I'll let ya' go. Deal?" You have to hold yourself back from jumping his bones.

"You will?"

"You have my word." Both of you know that even if he cums, you aren't going anywhere.

You take a steadying breath, sliding into the middle seat. "You're a damn sicko." You mumble with a small smile, trying to hide it as you unbutton his pants.

"And you're a stupid little girl." He catches the way your thighs press together in his peripheral vision, his tongue instinctively wetting his lips — wanting to have a taste. "Didn't your Daddy ever tell you not to trust strangers?"

"Fuck you-"

"Mh~ Feisty," he grabs you by the back of your head and shoves your face into his lap, "I like that. Let's see what else that mouth can do."

With a small groan, you unzip his jeans. "C'mon, princess~ Hurry up, before I pull over and fuck you in the middle of the road." While you would love that, you'll save it for another day. You pull down the elastic band on his boxers, his girth all but springing out; slapping you on the cheek and making you both moan.

You feign a gasp, trying to pull away and getting shoved right back. His knife is in the same hand that holds your head, the other on the wheel. "Get to work."

The overhead camera watches as you lean down, giving a kitten lick to his head and making him hiss. He grips your head tighter, "you think you're gonna make me cum like that? It's like you want to be fucked."

He almost lets his eyes roll back as you sink down on his pulsing length, bobbing your head quickly over the first inches of it. He pushes you down further, laughing airily when you gag as he keeps you held there.

Your scalp stings as he yanks you back up, letting you gasp for breath for only a few seconds before leading you back down. "Mhm~ Not so mouthy now, huh, brat?" You grab at his jeans, digging your nails in as you breathe through your nose. "Suck."

You muffle a disagreement, making him shiver as the vibrations run through him. "Have it your way, then."

He keeps you there, gagging on his cock for a good few minutes. Spit is soaking his boxers and your jaw is starting to ache by the time he finally stops the car and yanks the keys from the ignition. "Get up," he doesn't give you a chance to act for yourself; pulling you up by the hair and allowing you to suck in some good, deep breaths as you massage your jaw.

"Pretty little brat~" He slaps you, pretty gently based on what you know he's capable of. "I'm gonna have a lot of fun with you..." His eyes scan you for a moment before quickly leaning in and licking up your messy chin.

You turn your moan into a whine, pushing at his chest. "You're so nasty!"

"You don't know the half of it, sweetheart~"

━༻❁༺━

You had paused your scene as he carried you inside the rented cabin, letting him tie up your ankles and wrist without a fight as he asked how you were feeling so far.

And the answer was 'unbelievably horny, hurry up, please'.

He gives you a tender kiss before rubbing his hand down your side while sitting up on the bed next to you. "Give 'em a try, baby." You tug at the rope on your wrist — nothing. "And those?" He looks over his shoulder as you try to pull your ankles apart — again, nothing. "Good."

"Ready?" You ask with a sparkle in your eyes, leaning into his touch as he pets your head.

The camera is already set up next to the bed, recording the soft moment before you get nasty.

"Oh, yeah~" He chuckles, leaning to land another peck to your lips, "you trust me, right?" You nod against his forehead as he places his against yours. "I'm going to be rough- gonna be mean. That doesn't mean I care about you any less. We're just pretending. If at any point you forget that, do you remember your safe word?"

"Pause."

"And if you can't speak?"

"Two hits."

"That's a good girl~" His hand slides down from your jaw, giving your binds a tug before continuing downward. "Action."

At his word, you snap back into your role; fidgeting below him while he shoves his hand between your thighs and cups your heat through your panties. Like a flipped switch, you're both back into the scene in a millisecond flat.

He all but jumps on top of you, crushing your legs to the bed with his own as he squeezes your heat. "Damn, you've got a hot little cunt," he groans, free hand slipping between your bound arms as you push at him; landing it at your throat and squeezing that as well. It's his favorite things to do, in any scene — even outside of filming.

Even when it's just you and him, neither of your boyfriends and no cameras, he can't help but put his hands around your neck. To remind you of your place, to remind you that he's got the control. Make you remember that he cares enough about you to cradle your jugular and squeeze it only hard enough so that you see stars in the edges of your vision.

"I can't wait to fuck it raw."

You start fighting harder, twisting and turning your hips, "no, p-please!" You should be an actor, he thinks; smirk wide on his lips as he looks down at you wildly.

"Yes~" He squeezes your neck tighter for a moment before slapping you suddenly, making your head turn to face the camera. "I'm gonna fill up this bratty pussy and teach you a lesson."

You gasp, genuinely, as he grabs the pocket knife from the bedside table and flips up your skirt. He cuts through your panties with zero hesitation, ripping them the rest of the way off. He can see the wet patch on them as he tosses them to the side to be forgotten.

His tongue darts over his lips again. Really, he shouldn't — not for this scene — but he wants to eat you out so badly that his cock is twitching. He tosses the knife onto the floor as he stares down at you.

"I wonder how hard you'll fight me after I make you cum on my tongue."

"Wait, wait, waiiiit~" Your pleads fall off into a breathy moan as his slides down and hugs your thighs, stuffing his tongue into your pressed together pussy lips. "Fuck! You pervert! Stop- please stop!"

His chuckle tickles your wetness, and he shakes his head with his tongue on your clit; giving it a lick as he pulls back. "Nah~"

You bring your wrists to your face, hiding your face as you tear up. It feels so good as he laps at your needy slit. You're so worked up from the role-playing that you fear you'll cum in mere minutes.

He slides his hands up and grips your ass, grinding against your legs as he licks and sucks your cunt like a man starved. Drooling and slobbering all over you. He pulls back and adds to the mess — a fat wad of spit hitting you and making you jolt.

"Get this cunt nice and sloppy so I can slide right in~"

"Sir, please-" He pulls out his cock quickly, stuffing it between your socked calves and moaning. Loud.

"Keep begging, princess," he spits again, reveling in the way your hips jerk, "makes me want to fuck you more."

You sob into your hands — not from his words. To bite back your pleads for him to do it. It's hard to remember the scene when he's making you gush on his pointed tongue.

"Fuck- fuck!" You can't help the string of moans that tumble off your lips as he makes you cum all over his mouth; using his grip on your ass to make you grind into him as you slump and tremble.

He doesn't give you any time to recoup. He drops your hips to the mattress; making them bounce a bit, and climbs over you, manic grin on his slick lips. "You slut~" Using the rope in your wrists, he pulls your arms down so he can see your heated, teary face.

His hand finds its way back to its rightful place on your throat. Just resting there, maybe to ground you in your post orgasmic bliss. Maybe to keep you in place as he shoves his tip into your fluttering hole.

"Ah!" You gasp, eyes squeezing shut and jaw tense. He's definitely the thickest man you've ever been with. And this position — having your legs and subsequently, your heat, stuck together adds to it. A lot. You can't spread your legs, can't try to accommodate for his goliath girth. All you can do is take it. Every single inch as he pushes into you, nice and slow so he can watch all the cute twitches in your face and beautiful tears that slide down your temples.

"Fuck-" He nearly collapses on top of you as he bottoms out in your pulsing walls. "Such a tight fit, you're begging for my cum..." His blue hair tickles your neck as he nuzzles into it, kissing your collar bone. "Your warm little hole is perfect, sweetheart."

You lean into his delicate touch as his hand moves up to cup your jaw, the other holding onto the rope on your wrist tightly. "I might just have to keep you." He moans deeply as he gives a sudden thrust, making you yelp.

"Gentle! Please, gentle... Y-you're gonna split me in ha- in half," you cry into his hand, nuzzling into it as he does to your neck.

"Oh, s-shut up," he stutters as he starts sliding in and out of you; slow and deep. "You love it. You love my fat cock breaking you. You know how I know?"

"No..?"

"Cause your cunt is drooling all over me, little siren~"

His special nickname for you makes your eyes roll into your skull and stay there as you convulse under him — slammed with an orgasm so rough that it makes you wail brokenly.

You're so far gone in your pleasure that you don't realize he's slipped his thumb into your mouth and you're now sucking at it to ground yourself as he slams his hips into you mercilessly. Don't recognize that he's staring down at you with fully dilated eyes and heavy breaths. You have to blink a few times — and the sight makes his stomach flutter with butterflies.

"Fucking told you," he coos the mean words as he tries to fuck his way up to your guts, "you were made to be my personal cock sleeve, huh?"

"Mhmm~" You moan around his thumb, your brain so pleasantly numb with tingling ecstasy that you've forgotten about the role-play completely. Your subconscious is taken over, making you soft and pliable beneath his rough pounding; teary eyes so sweet that he can't help but smile. Trusting him completely and taking whatever he gives because you know you can.

"Such a sweet, obedient, little slut," he snakes his fingers between yours and holds one of your hands tightly. "You dumb on my cock, sweetheart? I fuck your brains out?"

"Mhm~" You hum, head bobbing lightly as you suck on his thumb, hand squeezing his as tightly as possible while he presses against your g-spot repeatedly with his bulbous tip.

"You want my cum?" He knows the response he's going to get when you're so deep in sub-space. Smile spreading even further on his lips as he's proven right.

"Please, Captain," you slur out quickly before your lips are back around his thumb, melting into his soft cupping of your jaw.

"Fuck-" He grits his teeth, fingers twitching as his peak rapidly grows closer, "yeah, you do~ Of course you do, my dirty little siren~"

You didn't even feel it coming until a sharp peak slaps you cunt first, making you gasp and arch below him. Each of his frenzied thrusts send a spurt of your release splashing; soaking your skirt on your waist and his shirt, dripping off you and wetting the bed.

He crushes you below him, kissing all over your face as he fucks his load into you as deep as possible, moaning soft praises as you shake with sobs.

You start breathing fast, eyes dizzy and heart pounding so fast it makes you sweat as he stills deep inside of you.

"Shhh~" He shushes you with a smile, bringing both of his hands to wipe your tears with an easy touch. It feels like you've had your entire world rocked, and seeing him so calm and collected makes you relax. "I've got you, Hongjoong's got you, sweetheart."

"H-" You huff in a shaking breath, "hold me?"

"C'mere," he hums, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and blanketing you with his body. His cock still heavy inside of you, his weight on your chest, his lips planting kisses on your teary cheek. "You did so wonderfully, princess. Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes," you moan softly as you close your eyes blissfully, fingers playing with his shirt from their place stuck between you. "Thank you, Captain~"

"Thank you, little siren~"

━༻❁༺━

━༻❁༺━

"Check this out," Mingi flops into bed next to you a few weeks later. He slides an arm under your neck and snuggles to your back as he shows you his phone.

"What am I looking at?" You hum tiredly, rubbing your eyes before looking at the screen again.

"We have a fan-boy~" He chuckles, scrolling on the page slowly. "Been re-posting our stuff for like two months, he's really into you- oh, look at this one."

It's a screenshot from the beginning of you and Hongjoongs role-playing video. Both of you laid in the bed and recording a disclaimer to stay safe and consensual. As you were saying that you had given him clear permission to do the things he did, he was looking down at you with a fond smile; petting your head softly as you laid on his chest.

'Why did the way Captain looks at Princess make me hard before they even started? I don't know who I want to be more. I would let him ruin me and I would absolutely wreck her >:( She's so adorable, I would love to rearrange her guts while her boyfriends film us. I want her to scream my name. The dream.'

You take the device from him with a small giggle, "for real? I knew we had our regulars but I didn't know we had fans."

A clip of you fingering yourself is his pinned post. The caption:

'Poor Princess can hardly make herself squirt... I can do it, don't worry<3'

The attached picture of the man's slender hand makes you gulp. "Wow," you scroll more. Every few days, a slew of posts of the four of you are made. Something catches your eye. "Mingi-" You reach back and slap his side lightly, "why do you follow him?"

"He's got pretty hands-"

"Yo! That's what's I was thinking!"

You click back to the top and scan his profile, "Hwa? That's a pretty name."

"Mhm," he slides his hand down your waist slowly, "maybe we should make a video, you can moan his name~ I bet he'd cream in his pants."

"You perv... Let's do it~"

━༻❁༺━

[masonmtxo]

Not So Surprising Surprise - Rewrite

Summary: SURPRISE? Have a bit of Dad Mase 🩷 Rewrite of this because I actually squirmed when I reread it recently 🫣

Words: 2.7k

In all honesty, the two lines on the pregnancy test you held in your shaking hand probably shouldn't have come as such a surprise. You weren't necessarily trying for a baby, but you weren't doing anything in order to prevent conceiving one either, so it should have been more of a shock that it had taken so long for you to find yourself in this position.

You hadn't used condoms in years, a decision you mutually came to after only 6 months of dating, deciding that you would go on the pill instead.

But after years of being on it you had chosen to not renew the prescription a few months ago, it was making you more tired and hormonal than you were willing to deal with, a decision Mason had wholeheartedly supported when you had broached the topic with him.

You took a deep breath, dropping the latest test into the sink alongside the 3 others you had already taken, leaning your elbows on the bathroom counter as you gripped your hair in distress. Your brain was spinning, the sound of your heart thumping in your chest making you feel like your entire body was going to explode. You had always wanted children, it was something you and Mason had discussed many times in the years you had been together but it had always been a future desire, something for you to look forward to, maybe once you were married, or when Mason's career had slowed to a more manageable pace. You had no idea how he would feel about having a baby right now, in the midst of his current injury problem, working day in and out to get on top of it and make his mark at United.

Your relationship had taken a bit of a back seat to his career in recent weeks, rarely seeing each other as Mason was spending a huge amount of time at Carrington doing all he could do to ensure his rehab was as quick as possible. You didn't mind, knowing you would have your doting boyfriend back once he was back to full fitness, but you couldn't help but feel like the news of a baby would just cause him more worry at a time where he needed the freedom to fully focus on himself.

The sound of Ace barking excitedly signaled Mason had returned home, you quickly grabbed the test from the sink and shoved it into the front pocket of your hoodie before nodding to yourself firmly in the mirror. One thing you couldn’t do was keep a secret from Mason, knowing the second he laid eyes on you he would know something was up so figured it was now or never. You took a deep breath, telling yourself that making the baby was a joint effort and the worry wasn't yours to carry alone, before tentatively making your way down the stairs to greet him.

Mason had made his way into the kitchen, sitting at the island with a bottle of water and scrolling through his phone, one hand absentmindedly scratching behind Ace’s fluffy ear as he sat beside the stool.

He glanced up as you entered, placing his phone down on the counter and gesturing you over, arms open asking for a cuddle, "I didn't know you were home, thought you were spending the day with Anouska and the kids," he questioned, head tilted as you fell into his arms, desperately hoping he wouldn't notice your pounding heart against his chest.

You'd met up with Anouska that morning, heading to your local park to walk Ace and let her kids blow off some steam. You’d wandered around the park catching up, Ace and the kids charging around, throwing sticks and squealing excitedly, making you both laugh as you watched Ace trying to catch every stick without letting the previous one go. You had found a bench to sit on as you watched them play, making general chit chat before you had built up the courage to mention that you had missed your last two periods, the need to tell someone driving you mad. Anouska turned to stare at you with a mix of surprise and excitement painted on her face. At first you vehemently denied the possibility of being pregnant, before reluctantly admitting you hadn't been particularly careful recently, Anouska raising her brow and indicating for you to come clean with what you weren’t admitting.

“I came off the pill a few months ago and I figured since I’d been on it so long it would take my body a while to fully get it out of its system,” you shrugged shyly, the words sounding as stupid as you thought they would.

“So what, you haven't used protection at all?” She tilted her head in confusion.

“Well no, not really…” you trailed off, not wanting to tell her that your only form of contraception in the past few months was getting Mason to pull out, and that was only when you remembered which was less often than you were willing to admit.

Your friend's face was a picture, if you weren't so stressed you probably would have laughed, “Y/N did neither of you take part in Sex Ed classes?” Her tone was bemused, if not slightly concerned.

“Well yeah,” you grimaced, “I dunno, we just weren't really thinking about it.”

“Have you spoken about having kids?” She asked, her face softening, reaching out to comfortingly squeeze your hand.

You nodded, “yeah, and we both want kids, but we’ve never really spoken about when. And I always thought it would be something we tried for, rather than sort of having it sprung on us you know?”

Anouska smiled sympathetically, telling you maybe it was time to head home, telling you to pop to the shops sooner rather than later. You agreed, giving her and the kids a quick hug before you dropped Ace home and headed to your local Tesco to grab a few tests, picking up multiple different brands just to be sure. You couldn't help but squirm with embarrassment when the cashier gave you a knowing look as she scanned them, praying that nobody recognised you as ‘Mason Mount’s girlfriend’, silently laughing to yourself as you pictured the newspaper's headlines.

….

"Came home early, didn't feel great," you mumbled against Mason’s neck as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

His eyes pooled with concern, reaching to cup your cheek, "what’s the matter? Do you want me to run you a bath and then we can have an early night? We can start watching that series you said you wanted to watch the other day?"

You smiled softly at him, pressing a kiss to his lips. It amazed you every day how attentive he was, always ready to meet your every need; something that would make him an amazing father to the little human growing in your belly. One thing you knew you never had to worry about was whether you would make good parents, Mason was made to be a dad, something that was affirmed to you over the years watching him with his nieces and your friends' kids.

"I'm feeling fine now, but i'd never say no to a bath and watching tv in bed," the nerves were getting the better of you as you spoke, voice starting to shake and you hoped your boyfriend wouldn't notice.

Before he could reply you lightly tapped his thigh and looked up at him, "Can I ask you something?"

"Course you can," he cocked his head, looking at you curiously as he waited for you to speak.

"What do you see for us 5 years from now?" You asked, not making eye contact as you took his hand in yours, gently playing with his fingers to settle your anxiety, your heart pounding so hard in your chest you felt like you could faint any moment.

He looked at you curiously, eyebrows raised in question at the seemingly abrupt question. He paused for a minute, wondering if you would explain yourself but when it became apparent you weren't going to clarity, he tilted his head to think of an answer. "Married, a few kids, maybe in a different house with a bigger garden depending on where I’m playing I guess," he shrugged as if it was obvious. His answer was not dissimilar to when you had previously spoken about the topic, but his words helped settle you a bit, glad to have it reaffirmed he still wanted the same future you did. His eyes flickered over your face, silently demanding an explanation to the question and your strange behaviour.

But you still couldn't bring yourself to tell him outright, feeling physically sick at the thought of his reaction. In the back of your mind, you knew without a doubt he would be thrilled, but you couldn't ignore the little voice in your head telling you you were about to ruin his life and potentially his career.

He tapped you on the hip when you hadn't replied for several long moments, tilting your chin up to force you to look at him, "can you please explain what's going on in that lovely little head of yours?" The concern on his face made your heart melt, the feeling of his fingers gently stroking over the small of your back soothing you as you forced yourself to take a shaky breath.

"I think I'm pregnant," you blurted, eyes darting towards the ground, unable to look at Mason’s face as you spoke.

"What? You think you're pregnant or you know you're pregnant?" He choked, quickly placing his fingers under your chin to tilt your head up so he could catch your eye. A huge grin had spread across his face as he gazed at you, hands drooping to squeeze your hips, pulling you even further between his legs as he waited for your confirmation.

Silently, you pulled the test out of your pocket and offered it to him, hands shaking despite his apparent excitement. Without hesitation he grabbed it from you, staring down at the little white stick in his hands before his head flew back up to look at you, tears instantly pooling in the corner of his eyes.

"Holy shit, baby you're pregnant!" The excitement in his voice was unmistakable, allowing you to finally relax and enjoy the moment. Mason stood from the chair, pulling you into his chest and squeezing so tight you could feel his pulse hammering against you.

“Fuck y/n, I don't even know what to say! I'm so fucking happy!" His voice was wobbling, thick with emotion as he cradled you impossibly close.

"Really?" You whimpered into his chest, tears streaming down your cheeks as you were overcome with relief.

He leant back to look at you, a smile so bright plastered on his face you physically felt your heart flutter. His eyes were wet, tears not falling but the way they glistened with pure happiness had you swallowing down a lump, trying to stop yourself from bawling from the overwhelming flurry of emotions.

"Of course I'm happy baby, why would I not be?" His smile dimmed slightly as he took note of your expression, relief rather than the excitement he was expecting.

You clammed up in an instant, embarrassed that you thought for even a second that Mason would have a different reaction, and ashamed of yourself for thinking he wouldn't be over the moon, "I dunno, I was worried that you would think it was too soon. I know we've always spoken about having kids in the future but you're in the middle of your career and working really hard at the moment to prove yourself. I didn't want to ruin that for you."

"I'm sorry, what?" he chuckled, fingers stroking down your cheek as he stared at you in awe; partly because he still couldn't believe that you were carrying his child but more so at your stupidity, "Do you know how many top players have children? Baby why the hell would you even think that?"

"I just came as a bit of a shock and it's not really something we'd spoken about recently," you shrugged, your reasoning sounding more ridiculous by the minute.

"But is it really a shock though? You've been letting me fuck you raw for months-"

You cut him off before he could continue, slapping his chest in protest, "Do you have to be so vulgar?"

"Sorry," Mason laughed, though he looked far from apologetic as you blushed, “we would’ve been stupid to not expect this to happen sooner rather than later, babies happen if you don't use protection. I know we never really spoke about it, but we were both well aware of that when you came off the pill and we didn't bother to go back to using condoms,” he reasoned with a shrug, his thumb softly brushing back and forth over your cheek.

You both looked at each other for a moment, taking your time to absorb the fact you were having a baby. It was a surreal feeling, knowing that your baby was right there between you, hidden away in your still flat tummy.

After a few beats of silence, Mason’s hand quickly fell from your face, slipping under your hoodie to place it on your lower stomach. A gentle kiss was placed on your forehead as your hand found his, squeezing it softly, a silent acknowledgment that you were feeling just as overwhelmed with happiness as he was.

"I love you so fucking much," he whispered, pressing a deep kiss to your mouth, tongue carefully dipping in between your parted lips.

"Me or the baby?" You giggled after a while, both of you taking deep, shaking breaths, foreheads resting together.

"Both of you,” he whispered, pulling you back in for another series of loving pecks.

•••

Later that evening you found yourself curled up under your duvet, head resting against Mason’s bare chest, tv on in the background but neither of you were paying it any attention. You had barely spoken a word since you had sleepily climbed out the bath not long ago, Mason having joined you, clingier than ever since finding out the news. Contentment fizzled through your body as you mindlessly exchanged kisses, soaking up every minute of each other's happiness.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy in my life,” Mason whispered, words muffled as his lips were still pressed against yours.

“Really?” You giggled, unable to stop yourself from kissing him again.

He hummed against you, rolling onto his side so he could pull you flush against him, one hand cupping the back of your head, the other gentling stroking your thigh that was hooked over his hip. You couldn't possibly be closer together if you tried, but you still felt the need to shuffle into him, desperate to be completely shrouded by his body.

“When do we start telling people?” He murmured, pulling back from your lips, “mums gonna be over the moon.”

“I have no idea how far along I am, I’ve missed two periods though, so reckon I must be at least 9 or 10 weeks,” you admitted, “I reckon we should wait until after the first scan though, just to make sure everything's alright.”

He pulled his head back sharply at your admission, eyes finding yours but his expression was unreadable, “you missed two periods? Why didn't you say anything?” His voice was soft still, but it held a frustrated edge, “even if you didn't think you were pregnant you shouldn't be ignoring things like that.”

“I know, I know,” you sighed, “it was stupid, I just assumed the first one was down to stress but when I didn't come on last week I started to think maybe I was pregnant but I didn't want to say anything until I knew for sure.”

“Well you should've done,” Mason chastised, “and that just proves how little sex we've been having recently, usually I would have noticed a sex ban, clearly once is enough,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes before tucking yourself back into his neck, deeply breathing in his scent and feeling your heart settle, “you’re an idiot.”

He chuckled in response, cuddling into you, the feeling of contentment with an excitement for your shared future flooding through your bodies.

🩷🩷🩷

[lycanlupins]

NSFW Alphabet - John Walker

Warnings: NSFW content ahead as always, we don’t kink shame here ♥️

This man has taken over my brain, it’s just Bob and John 24/7 and I had to get this out for him because I have a hard time doing NSFW for Bob rn 😭

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

Good with aftercare, probably cleans you up and runs you a hot bath to make sure you're comfy and cozy afterwards.

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

His favorite on you is your thighs. He loves a good thigh, thick and plump. He loves when they squeeze around his head or waist depending on what position you guys are in.

On himself he loves his baby blues. He gets anything he wants when he looks at you with 'em, and when he's mad they get the point across that you need punishing.

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

He likes cum marking. That man wants everyone to know that you're his and if that means cumming in you or on you he'll obliege.

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

He keeps a pair of your underwear on his person when he's on missions, especially long ones. When he can get time alone he gets off into them and wipes his cum with them.

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

He has a kid...you tell me.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary or pile driver, its either simple or he needs to get inside of you then and there with no remorse.

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

He takes sex seriously 99% of the time, sometimes there's room for cute little moments where you both giggle at something that happens but more often than not its serious.

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

He keeps it trimmed but not fully waxed. His happy trail makes you drool when his shirt gives you a sneak peek.

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

Depends on the mood and atmosphere. If its at home its very sweet, gentle and romantic but if the two of you are out and about...he's a different breed of man. He's needy, sloppy, rough. He's almost animalstic with want.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

It takes minimum three rounds before he's even breaking a sweat so he tends to give you a show when he knows you don't have a lot of energy in you to go for more than one round.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding

CNC

Daddy Kink

Vouyerism

Praise

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Preferrably at home but he’s not opposed to pulling you aside on a mission or when you’re out with friends.

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

You breathe in that man’s general vicinity and he’s fully hard and ready to go.

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

Degradation, he’s not into it when it’s being received.

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

He’s a certified munch, he likes when you give him head but man…he needs to give you pleasure before he even touches himself.

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

Again, depends on his mood. He can swing either way and he’s good at what he does.

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

He’s a fan when he can’t have a full round with you but he’d much rather spend his time watching you come undone.

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

He’s a risk taker at heart. No birth control? Eh, he knows what he’s getting into. People will hear? Not the first time they’d hear you screaming for him.

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

Like mentioned earlier, he can go minimum of 3 rounds before his body even reacts to exhaustion.

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

He doesn’t own any himself but he isn’t opposed to using them in bed. Though he may get a little self conscious that he isn’t enough for you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s a big tease when he has the time. He likes to tell you about all the dirty things he thinks about doing to you, or sneaking up behind you and kissing the back of your neck before walking away.

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

He’s not too loud but he loves to talk and grunt. “Let daddy make you feel good.” “That’s it my pretty baby.” “C’mere doll, let me see you.” He’s a yapper. Don’t let that fool you though, you take control and that man is whining, begging for release.

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

He’s a switch but he’d never admit it, you just find out one day when you grab his throat while riding him and he immediately softens his demeanor and whines.

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

6 in. soft, light beige with a pink tip. 8-9 hard, angry vein that goes up the underside, tip turns slightly more red. Thick as all hell.

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

THE YEARN THIS MAN HAS FOR YOU IS CRAZED. He could be in your presence, you in nothing but days old pjs, messy hair and probably half asleep and that man would find you the sexiest human alive. His sex drive is at 100 all the time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t fall asleep fast at all, in fact he’s usually wide awake afterwards making sure you’re safe and taken care of.

[wrongbodies]

The Teacher Becomes the Student

A "Last to Drink" spin-off

Toby Laskey had never thought he'd return to high school twice. It was an altogether different experience from when he graduated college some 20 years or so ago, and took a job teaching at the local high school. Even then he was unhappy about the arrangement. Sure, he had studied secondary education in college, but if he was honest he only did it because it was safe - and his parents were teachers. It seemed like the least risky and most familiar path to take.

Now, in his late forties, Toby resented his life. He was always a nerdy guy, thin and unable to keep up athletically. But he also wasn't the brightest. Sure, he could pass a test or write a decent essay, but nothing that truly would set him apart from the rest of the herd.

And then he was transformed into a kid. Well, he swapped bodies with a kid. A senior at the very high school he himself taught at. He had no idea what the other 7 victims involved may believe, but in his heart Toby was certain this was a gift. He may be a new generation of nerd in Cole's body, but there was something to be said about wiping away 20+ years of aging and all the baggage that came with it. He also knew Cole was certain to be off to college, so if the swap was not resolved, he was going to get a brand new start to another chance at college!

So, despite the prospect of returning to high school - this time as a student. Somehow - a second time - mind you... he was going to make the most of it. Even though he felt he should be uncomfortable with piloting a 17 year old boys body, through the routines that he had to for obvious reasons, he wasn't actually perturbed. It was strange, changing clothes, using the bathroom, showering, and all that. But in his mind he was remarkably adaptive to the situation. He could clutch his imaginary pearls and blush at it all, or he could embrace it.

After all, for all he knew this might be permanent.

Elsewhere in town, Cole was having the reverse experience. He stood before the mirror in his, or rather, Mr. Laskey's bedroom and stared at his unfortunate new vessel. He was still in pajamas, a white tee shirt and plaid bottoms. He felt his bones creaking in a way he shouldn't understand for at least twenty years in his own body. Probably closer to his fifties.

He was constantly patting and rubbing his bald head. Flicking his tongue across his teeth and trying to stifle the aches in his back. Was this what it was like to be an adult? Or is this just the miserable life that Mr. Laskey led? Cole admitted to himself he had absolutely no frame of reference, but the whole ordeal was unsettling.

Luckily, he was comforted by one thought - the potion was safe with him in Mr. Laskey's house. He indeed did live alone, no wife or children to be found. It made his life seem ever more lonely. He did have one cat, a fluffy thing named Dotty. She was very affectionate and seemed to perceive no difference. She admittedly seemed a little dopey, but it was a welcome respite from waking up alone in Laskey's bed and body. The house was silent, which was different than Cole's home, where his parents were often talking or the TV was left on for the background noise.

He contented himself with knowing if he really started to panic or need an out, he had full control over the potion and it's usage. He could in theory undo the swap between him and Laskey immediately. But he was intent on not ruining this for his friends. There was some fun to be had. Even if he'd have to be a school teacher for at least a week.

At school Cole and Mr. Laskey found each other, as planned. To aid in their deception, Mr. Laskey had whisked up some pre-planned classwork that would be simple for Cole to distribute and oversee without having to task himself too heavily with teaching. Mr. Laskey in turn received Cole's full schedule and some helpful ideas on how to blend in. Unfortunately the parts concerning pop culture went well over Mr. Laskey's head.

"That's my favorite vest. You did a good job with putting together an outfit, Cole." Mr. Laskey said. Cole had worn a dark red vest over a light yellow button down and brown slacks. He looked incredibly dorky in combination with his bald head.

"Somehow you managed an outfit I'd actually wear too..." Cole said, a little more dour than Laskey was coming off. Mr. Laskey had opted for a Green Lantern tee shirt, under an unbuttoned plaid button down and jeans. The only thing out of place was a decidedly more combed and tamed hairstyle. "What did you do to my hair, though?"

"I apologize. I admit I got excited at the prospect of having enough hair to brush again, that I set about cleaning your wild hair a bit." Laskey shrugged.

"Ugh, well don't look too clean. I don't know if people will buy it from me for too long." Cole said, rolling his eyes.

"I won't make the mistake again." Laskey said, thinking to himself he'd actually be experimenting with all sorts of looks when he had more time. "Anyways, I see 'Brent' so I should go."

"Oh, Jasper... ok then. Good luck." Cole said. He disappeared into the classroom that Mr. Laskey had for all his math classes.

Toby Laskey strutted down the hall towards the Brent that he knew was actually Jasper on the inside. They had all decided that the four friends would continue to meet up and hang out, even if each of those friends were in possession of completely random and unrelated souls. So Fake Brent, Fake Kyle, Fake Lance, and Fake Cole (Laskey), were set the task of associating and keeping up appearances.

As Toby approached his "friend" he noticed a tiny form zipping around a corner further down the hall. It was Jasper's body. It seems those two had just wrapped up their own pep talk before starting the school day. "Hey!"

The fake Brent looked up and smiled.

TBC - The next spin-off will follow Brent and Jasper. Each piece will contain pieces that move the overall plot forward.

[bonewaryreblogs]

I Finally Posted Something!

I'm so fucking excited!

Chapter 1 of "Building Ballasts" has finally gotten to the point that I'm ok sharing it. It's the part of the story where Danny and Jazz get Adopted and move to Gotham, but I still want to write the Battle with Pariah and Danny's First Deathday, too, I'll just label them as prequals.

Anyways, here's the link to Ao3 as well as the full chapter under the Read More!

Link to Ao3

Batman had met Danny Phantom on the first day of summer vacation. Phantom seemed young and inexperienced but the group of powerful ghosts had looked to him for guidance, for protection. Batman had watched the ghost hero stand against the self-proclaimed Ghost King Pariah alone...

And win.

That was weeks ago.

Batman knew that Phantom was too powerful to be left to his own devices. He would be a difficult, if not impossible, enemy to defeat if he ever went rogue. But, how do you eliminate such a threat?

You become their mentor. Their safety. The person they turn to when they’re at their breaking point.

And you make sure they don’t break.

~@~

Phantom smiled as he flew through the cooling, almost-autumn air, the sky still painted in a purple indigo ombre from the setting sun. He only had a week and a half before school started again, so he wanted to enjoy what time he had left of summer vacation; and what better way to relax than patrolling his haunt, making sure it, and all of its inhabitants, were safe? Phantom was so glad he finally had an explanation for that deep itch that protecting others scratched. Sure, it was because of his ghostliness, the implications of which were still a little uncomfortable to think about sometimes, but at least he knew there was an explanation for it, that he wasn’t just crazy.

A shadow shifted in his peripherals and Phantom immediately braced himself for an incoming attack. His ghost sense hadn’t gone off but ghosts weren't the only ones attacking him regularly, and they were being nicer to him lately anyways. Besides, a quick reaction time had saved his half-life more often than he’d care to think about.

What he didn’t expect was to see Batman on a random rooftop a ways off.

Phantom had felt like he was being watched for most of the summer, so Batman had probably been in Amity for about as long. Since Phantom hadn’t actually seen him earlier, Batman must have kept himself hidden the whole time he'd been here, so Phantom only saw him now because Batman wanted to be seen. Which means he probably wanted to talk, since the alternative is a fight and it would probably be more obvious if that was his goal.

Phantom hesitated. He was supposed to meet up with the rest of Team Phantom for patrol, and they’d be suspicious if he was too late, would probably go looking for him, and if Batman had wanted to talk to all of them, he would’ve shown himself to all of them. Nodding to himself, Phantom turned to face Batman and held up his hands, both index fingers pointing up, extended his left hand at arm’s length, held his right hand to his chest, then moved his right hand towards his left hand. Finally, he pointed towards the center of town. It was sign language, loosely meaning “I’ll meet you” and a general direction for where. While he didn’t use them often himself, since he was usually the one fighting, they had all learned some hand signs in case they couldn’t talk for one reason or another, and Phantom recognized them well enough even if he didn’t practice them much.

Batman nodded sharply and Phantom smiled, giving a playful salute before taking off again. He’d just have to convince the Team to patrol separately tonight so he could talk to Batman alone without raising suspicion.

-

Thankfully, it hadn’t been all that hard to convince them to split up and Phantom headed into town, quickly found Batman again, and floated at eye level a careful distance away. Sure, they’d been on the same side against Pariah earlier that summer, but that was an apocalyptic emergency so there was still a non-zero chance Batman agreed with the Anti-Ecto Acts. It had been a month and a half, there was no doubt he knew about them by now.

“Hello again, Batman,” Phantom greeted. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“You didn’t seem surprised to see me,” Batman stated in lieu of his own greeting.

“I had a feeling you were here but couldn’t really confirm it,” Phantom shrugged, playing it cool but not taking his eyes off Batman. “So, do you need something or is this more of a personal visit?”

“A bit of both,” Batman admitted. “Is there somewhere more secure we can talk?”

Suspicion rising along with one eyebrow, Phantom hesitated.

“... Sure, follow me.”

Confidant Batman would keep up (and wouldn’t shoot him in the back), Phantom flew off to the Library, the tallest building in the area he was supposed to be patrolling. On the Library’s roof, Phantom “sat” cross legged in midair a few feet from a small table with four chairs and a patio umbrella, letting Batman decide if he wanted to sit or stand. Batman looked around suspiciously.

“It’s already closed for the night and the janitors don’t come around until later. Plus, the cameras are just for show, they’re not even plugged in,” Phantom explained his choice. “I have to at least pretend I’m patrolling my section. So. Why are you in my territory? Illinois is pretty far from New Jersey.”

“You and your team have been doing well, considering what you have to work with,” Batman started without preamble, apparently electing to stand. Phantom sat up a little straighter at the praise. “However, you are all young and untrained. I have reason to believe the situation here is going to shift soon and I don’t want you four to deal with it alone. I have Oracle looking into the GIW but communication is difficult with the media blackout they’ve established-”

“Media blackout! Tucker totally called it.”

“- But what little I’ve managed to discover on my own is troubling, to say the least,” Batman continued as if Phantom hadn’t said anything. “That will take time and legal action to take care of, but it will be taken care of. Unfortunately, there is a more time sensitive issue that concerns me. The Doctors Fenton meet the criteria of supervillainy and I intend to arrest them for it.”

“WHAT!?” Phantom cried in shock. “No no no, there must be a mistake! My- the Fentons aren’t villains! They’re just eccentric and misguided!”

“They regularly shoot to kill at the town’s local hero,” Batman stated flatly.

“Like I said, misguided,” Phantom argued with a helpless shrug. “They think they’re doing the right thing, and it’s not like they’re the only ones.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time a genius turned into a supervillain because they thought the ends justified the means,” Batman barreled forwards, ignoring the bait to distract him. “They are a danger to those around them, regularly causing far more property damage than you or your rogues, their ideology is at risk of classifying more than just ghosts as non-sentient, which is concerning enough on its own, and they are, at best, neglectful of their children’s safety.” Batman narrowed his eyes. “And that’s not even counting their interdimensional crimes.”

Phantom froze, eyes wide.

“... interdimensional...?” he choked.

“They punched a hole into another dimension and began hunting and experimenting on the native residents of said dimension,” Batman spelled it out and Phantom cringed as he realized Batman wasn’t wrong.

“It sounds really bad when you say it like that,” he shrank away, hands fidgeting nervously. Batman narrowed his eyes.

“Regardless of their beliefs, Phantom, such acts are grounds for war,” Batman emphasized and Phantom stiffened. “If we don’t take care of this problem ourselves, someone else will, and the rest of the planet may get caught in the crossfire. As a hero yourself, I’m sure you understand that I cannot let that happen.”

Phantom looked away, eyes wide and unseeing as the implications set in. He felt a thousand miles away from his body, thoughts buzzing as he couldn’t breathe. Thank his ghostly biology that he didn’t need the oxygen in this form.

“You’ve done well keeping the peace so far,” Batman said, a little softer. “And I know it’s hard to betray loved ones-” Phantom’s head snapped up. “- But you must recognize that they will inevitably do something that cannot be undone. Yes, it might be done to you, and you will forgive them because they’re your parents, but it might be to Ember, or the Box Ghost, or any number of the peaceful ghosts that inhabit this town. I’ve seen you release the ghosts they do catch, but what happens if you’re too late? You can’t be everywhere, Phantom. You’re already running yourself ragged trying to plug leaks, and that's without school taking up more of your time and attention. As heroes, we have a responsibility to anticipate problems and solve them before they happen if we can, not just clean up the aftermath.”

Batman paused to let Phantom process this, his face saying everything Batman needed to hear of his racing thoughts, before he finally settled into somber acceptance as he floated limply a foot lower than he started. He gave a hollow chuckle, with a smile to match.

“Shoulda known you’d figure me out,” Phantom murmured, focusing on the revelation that was easier to swallow. “Can’t hide anything from the World’s Greatest Detective.” His fake smile fell as he curled in on himself. “I know they’re not the best parents, but they’re still mine...”

“I know,” Batman said in an empathetic rumble, accepting the implied surrender before he straightened. “Once they’re arrested, they’ll have a choice. They can go to court and face trial, or they can take the plea deal they’ll be offered.”

Phantom looked up, a fragile hope in his eyes.

“They would still, technically, be serving a prison sentence, but they would be able to work at the Justice Foundation as reforming villains as a form of community service, directly supervised by Justice League heroes and trusted affiliates. Despite their beliefs, they are still brilliant scientists, and humanity can still benefit from their work, but they will lose custody of you and your sister, as is standard procedure for any dependent of a reforming villain.”

Phantom’s face fell at the thought but he didn’t interrupt.

“You won’t be cut off from them, though,” Batman continued. “There would be generous visitation available, but it would be entirely on your terms. They could request to see you, and you would be informed of the request, but they couldn’t demand it; you would never be forced to see them if you didn’t want to, though you could visit them as often as you’d like.”

There was a beat of silence before Batman looked away.

“Honestly, I would’ve wanted to get you two out of there anyways,” his tone was suddenly more disdainful than clinical. “Not only is that entire house a deathtrap, to say nothing about their lax lab safety, but it’s only a matter of time before they find out about your condition, or your sister’s contamination reaches a threshold where they no longer see her as their daughter. You’re a smart kid, Danny, I know you can see it. Denial is only going to get someone hurt.”

Phantom’s eyes widened in shock, then horror as reality sank in.

“I hadn’t... thought about Jazz being in danger...” Phantom trailed off, barely audible as his hands covered his mouth. “We have some contingencies for me, but...”

“I would prefer to have your cooperation with this,” Batman continued, back to distant but determined. “But I will be arresting them in the next few days, with or without your help.”

Phantom flinched but didn’t object.

“Since they will be arrested as interdimensional supervillains, the Justice League will be in charge of placing you and your sister with a foster family. We will ensure you two stay together, at least, with either a League hero or a trusted associate. However... I would like to take you in myself.”

Phantom’s jaw dropped, slowly turning to face Batman.

“You have a lot of potential as a hero, as do the rest of Team Phantom,” Batman continued, with the ghost of a smile. “However, since only you and your sister are being displaced right now, I would like to train you two personally if you’d like to continue on this path. I will accept if you decide you want to be placed with someone else, and I won’t force either of you to join Gotham’s nightlife if you decide to focus on your civilian lives instead, but know that the offer stands. I want you to have as much say in your future as I can reasonably give you, considering the circumstances. Take some time to think, but your sister also needs to know. I had planned to tell her tonight as well, unless you’d prefer to tell her yourself.”

“This is... a lot,” Phantom said slowly. “As much as I’d like to be there when you talk to Jazz, I’m going to need time to process all of this and I don’t think I can finish that before Jazz would need to know.” He took a deep breath he technically didn’t need. “I’m gonna go ahead and patrol while you go talk to Jazz. Oh right! What about Sam and Tucker? They’re part of Team Phantom, too, and you said we all have potential, so...”

“I did,” Batman nodded. “However, they still have families to return to, while you and your sister are being displaced immediately. The Justice League will be keeping an eye on them, though. They are capable individuals, despite their age, but more than that, they have proven to be highly motivated to change the world for the better. That drive is hard to come by and is far more important than any superpower. They’d likely become heroes even without our intervention.”

“Yeah,” Phantom said quietly, smiling slightly despite himself, full of pride for his two best friends. “Yeah, ok. I think I can live with that.”

“Have a good patrol, Phantom,” Batman nodded as he turned towards Jazz’s section, obviously knowing where to find her already. Just how much did he know, anyways?

“Yeah, you too,” Phantom replied reflexively before screwing up his face, Batman already long gone. “Or something. Close enough,” he sighed and flew off.

He had a lot to think about.

-

Team Phantom reconvened around midnight.

The Box Ghost was the only troublemaker tonight and Sam had proudly announced that she’d handled him all by herself; they were all supposed to call Phantom for backup if they had to fight a ghost, but Sam always liked to push her limits. While praising her, Jazz and Phantom had shared a look, a silent acknowledgement that Batman had, indeed, spoken to them both.

Neither said anything to Sam or Tucker.

The siblings managed to act relatively normal, at least nothing that couldn’t be explained away easily enough, and said their good nights as they all headed home, Sam and Tucker on their scooters while Phantom transformed so Danny could ride back with Jazz in her car, citing that he was just a little tired tonight, nothing to worry about. They trusted Sam and Tucker, of course they did, but this was a little too personal to share just yet, even with them. At least, not before they could talk to each other first.

Finally alone, the car was quiet and tense as Jazz drove even slower than usual, neither knowing where to start.

“Guess you were right,” Danny’s whisper was deafening in the silence. “You and all your psychobabble. Even Batman thinks we’re in danger with mom and dad, and he lives in Gotham.”

“I’m sorry, little brother,” Jazz breathed, eyes locked on the road.

“’s hardly your fault,” Danny shook his head. “You took care of me more than they ever did.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“It wasn’t your job.”

They lapsed into silence again. Neither really wanted to rehash the old, tired argument; there was too much going on right now.

“I feel awful admitting it,” the steering wheel creaked in Jazz’s grip. “But I’m... relieved that they’re being arrested.”

Danny bristled, biting back the compulsion to defend their parents, before slumping into his seat with a defeated sigh. Jazz would’ve known the words were empty anyways.

“He asked for our help,” Danny said, looking out the window without really seeing anything. “I won’t stop him, but I don’t think I can help him, either. Even though I realize now that you’re in danger, too, I-I don’t know if I can betray them like that. It goes against everything in my core...”

Danny’s voice cracked at the end, tears pricking at his eyes. Jazz bit her lip hard to keep herself from breaking down, too; she had to keep it together, keep her eyes on the road ahead. For Danny. She swallowed hard.

“You won’t have to,” she finally said as she pulled into the driveway, turning to him. “I’ll take care of that part. I’ve been compiling evidence for years, planning to take custody of you as soon as I legally could.”

Danny stared at his sister in shock.

“You were gonna...” he trailed off. Ruin your life for me, was left unsaid. He huffed as the tears escaped, roughly wiping them off his cheeks with the heel of his palm. “Honestly, I really shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always put me first,” Danny’s voice was scratchy with barely contain emotion. He gave her a grim, joyless smile. “I guess, if it means you can finally take care of yourself instead of trying to raise me, I can’t be too mad about all this.”

“Not to mention you can finally get a mentor out of it,” Jazz suggested hopefully. “One that’s human, and isn’t a crazy fruitloop!”

They both laughed so they wouldn’t cry, exiting the car. Before Danny opened the front door, though, Jazz pulled him into a tight hug, which he returned immediately, despite his surprise. Neither commented on the other’s trembling.

“Whatever happens,” Jazz took a shaky breath. “Just know that I love you, ok?”

“I love you too, Jazz,” Danny squeezed tighter. “More than all the stars in the sky.”

[fairydustttx]

M2M

Bob Floyd x reader

“Maybe it’s our matching rings and that time that we kissed, I don’t understand why they never think what we do is totally platonic”

A/N: I have so many different ways I’ve wrote about this man but I can’t seem to write an enemies to lovers type story for him so here’s a lil platonicish one shot instead.

Wc: 1985

Summary: Everyone thinks you’re dating. Sometimes even you think you are but you’re just best friends. Maybe soulmates. Maybe something else. It’s complicated.

Bob's shoulder knocks gently into yours as you both stand in front of the ancient vending machine that lives just outside the rec room at the base.

It's midnight. The air smells like jet fuel and cold metal. You're both exhausted from the day and ready to go home with you still in your flight suit.

You groan softly hitting the vending machine with your fist, not at all impressed with the selection of snacks. "How is this stupid thing always out of the only decent chips?"

Bob leans in close to the scratched-up vending machine, the flickering light above casting a dim glow over his face. He squints at the smeared glass like it's a math equation and not a lineup of overpriced, over-salted snacks. The keypad sticks slightly as he punches in the code, the machine giving a low mechanical groan in protest.

"You say that like barbecue Lays aren't trash," he mutters, half to himself, half to you.

You shoot him a look, elbowing him hard in the side—not enough to hurt, just enough to make a point. "You have the taste buds of a sleep-deprived toddler. It's actually kind of worrying."

Bob grins, easy and boyish. "But you love me anyway."

The words hang there, soft but loud. He says them without weight, without a second thought, like they're part of some long-standing bit between you. And maybe they are. Maybe that's the problem.

Your breath catches—not audibly, not visibly, but you feel it. A pause just long enough to make it real. Your eyes flick to his face, studying it for any sign that he meant something by it, anything more than the careless comfort of familiarity.

But Bob just stands there, relaxed, like he hasn't just knocked the wind out of you. And you? You don't respond. You never do.

The machine sputters and jerks to life with a final groan, spitting out a sad bag of salt and vinegar chips like it's exhausted by the effort. The plastic packaging flops to the bottom bin with an anticlimactic thud.

You both stare down at it.

"I absolutely hate those," you mutter, nose wrinkling. The smell alone makes your mouth feel dry.

Bob shrugs, bending to retrieve the bag. His shoulders are broad under the soft gray hoodie he wears when he's too tired to care about uniform or image. He straightens, turns, and holds the chips out to you anyway, the corner of his mouth twitching like he's daring you to take them.

"Guess that makes us even."

You hesitate for a moment, your eyes on the crumpled bag in his hand. It crackles faintly as he holds it out, his fingers steady.

It would be easy to take it—say something quick and sarcastic, keep the rhythm the two of you always fall into. But tonight feels different. Off-balance in a way you can't explain.

So you don't reach out. You just say it.

"Bob, you know people think we're dating."

He pauses, caught mid-shift, the easy amusement faltering for a second. He looks at you, not surprised exactly—just waiting.

"Because of the vending machine?" he says eventually, with a hint of a smile.

"No." You exhale slowly. "Just... in general."

Bob tilts his head, like he's actually considering it. "Is it that obvious?"

You glance over at him, and he's already watching you. He's got that quiet way of looking—focused, careful. Like he never wants to make you uncomfortable, but he still wants the truth.

"Yeah," you say. "I think it is."

There's a pause. Not awkward. Just full.

"You want to correct them?" he asks.

You shift your weight, leaning back against the wall. "And say what? 'We're just... really close and maybe a little emotionally entangled but not in a romantic way, definitely not, absolutely not'?"

That makes him laugh, soft and tired. "You forgot 'definitely not sleeping together.' That part is also very important."

You smile faintly but don't laugh. It's quiet again.

He leans next to you, shoulders a careful distance away. His presence is familiar. He always has been, even when you didn't ask him to be.

The thing is, you've both had this conversation before. Not out loud. But in sidelong glances, in the way your fingers brush when you pass something between you, in the moments when you're too tired to pretend this connection doesn't run deeper than it should.

People ask all the time.

Phoenix asked once, outright, smirking across a crowded bar: "You two ever gonna admit you're disgustingly in love, or should we just start placing bets?"

Hangman's been cruder, but not entirely wrong. "No one stares at their so called 'friend' like that, Bob."

You always shut it down. "We're just close."

Bob always nods. "She's like family.”

But lately, even that doesn't sound right. Because it isn't just closeness. And you're not family—not really. You're something in between. Some unnamed liminal space neither of you dares to step out of.

Bob shifts again. "You ever wish it was easier?"

You glance sideways. "What do you mean?"

He shrugs, eyes down. "I don't know. That we could either be all the way in or all the way out. Instead of... whatever this is."

You don't answer for a long moment.

Then quietly, "Sometimes."

The silence grows heavier, but it doesn't crush you. It wraps around you both, familiar, like a blanket you've grown used to sharing.

Finally, he says, "We're still okay, right?"

You meet his eyes. Honest, open, as always.

"Yeah," you say. "We're okay."

And for now, that's true.

He doesn't press the bag into your hand again. Doesn't push. Just keeps it held between you, like the answer might live there, in that space you never quite cross.

You think about stepping closer but you don't.

                   ⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It happened on a Tuesday.

No alcohol. No party. No high-stakes adrenaline or moment you could pin it on later. Just two people sitting too close on a couch they'd half-fallen asleep on more times than either of them would admit. The overhead light was dim, the television humming softly in the background, casting flickers across the walls like distant lightning.

You were leaning sideways, legs curled under you, thighs brushing Bob's. He was laughing—quiet and breathless, hand half-covering his mouth the way he always did when he didn't want to laugh too loud. You'd just finished a downright horrible impression of Maverick giving a safety briefing, complete with squinted eyes and a hand gesture that didn't mean anything.

"You're gonna get us both court-martialed," Bob said, shaking his head, still laughing.

"Worth it," you murmured, grinning.

And then came the silence.

Not the awkward kind. The kind that settles between people who know each other a little too well. Who've seen each other wrecked and scared and messily human—and never looked away. The kind of quiet that says I know you and I don't need you to perform for me.

Bob turned to look at you. Just a little. But long enough and you didn't look away.

The moment wasn't big or dramatic. Just... slow. Soft. The air shifted, and suddenly your pulse was too loud in your ears. His eyes searched yours like he was looking for something he didn't quite dare to name.

And then his hand was on your jaw—tentative, warm, reverent and you didn't stop him.

The kiss was slow, unsure. The kind of kiss that starts like a question. You felt it catch low in your throat and twist somewhere deep in your chest, the kind of ache you weren't expecting. It made your skin feel too tight, your thoughts too loud. It didn't feel like crossing a line—it felt like remembering something you'd forgotten.

Bob pulled back first. Barely.

His breath caught, lips still close enough to brush yours when he spoke.

"I—"

You pressed your fingers gently to his shoulder. "Don't."

"No," he said softly. "I care about you. So much it makes my chest hurt sometimes. But...”

You nodded, even though your heart was still galloping at one hundred miles per hour. "Yeah. But."

The silence after that wasn't awkward, either. Just heavy. Full.

Bob swallowed hard. "You mean too much to me to mess it up."

You leaned your head back, eyes slipping shut for a second. "Same."

When you looked at him again, his expression was unreadable. Soft. Guarded. Like he wasn't sure what he wanted to say next, only that it would matter too much.

"You're my person," he said, almost a whisper.

A breath hitched behind your ribs. You smiled.

"Always."

                  ⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The next morning, nothing was different. Not really.

He handed you your coffee like he always did—two creams, one sugar, lid already on, still warm. You slid his breakfast sandwich across the table toward him without glancing up from your phone. You both settled into the rhythm like muscle memory.

But the difference was there—in the quiet places.

When your fingers brushed reaching for the same file, you froze just a second too long. When he laughed at something you said, his gaze lingered a little more than it used to. When someone on base cracked a joke "God, you two are like an old married couple" neither of you denied it.

You just looked at each other. You smiled. He didn't look away.

No explanations. No disclaimers.

It became the truth between you, unspoken but always there.

Halo raised a brow, catching the tail end of a too-soft conversation between you and Bob during the maintenance delay. "You two sure you're not secretly married?"

You'd waved her off, sarcastic and dismissive as always. "Please. I'd eat my wings before marrying Bob Floyd."

But later, when you were walking back to your quarters, Bob had murmured, "She's not going to be last person to ask."

You knew that. Of course you did because this wasn't normal. It wasn't nothing, either.

You were each other's first call. The name saved with little stars or dumb nicknames in your phones. The person who noticed first when the other was too quiet. Too tired. On the edge.

Bob was the one who'd driven an hour and a half once just to sit in your living room when you couldn't sleep. You were the one who'd pulled him off base after a rough week and sat with him in a 24-hour diner, playing stupid songs off the jukebox until he started smiling again.

It wasn't romance.

But it wasn't friendship the way people meant it, either. It was something else.

That night on the couch still echoes between you—still sits like dust in the spaces where your fingers almost touch. You think about it sometimes when he brushes a stray hair from your face without thinking. When he falls asleep next to you on long flights, his shoulder warm against yours. When someone else flirts with him, and you feel something twist in your stomach that you pretend not to name.

You lie awake some nights, wondering what if the two of you tried?

Would you make it work? Would you ruin everything?

But you never speak the questions out loud. Neither does he and maybe that's the point.

You live in that quiet middle place. In the long glances. In the unspoken loyalty. In the way you trust each other more than anyone else without ever needing to say it.

You don't say "I love you," but it's there. In the little things. In the constant showing up. In the comfort of knowing that when everything else is falling apart, you'll always have each other.

Bob Floyd is your anchor. Your calm. Your constant.

Not a love story in the traditional sense but something real. Something lasting.

And maybe, just maybe, that's more than enough.

[roonotrue]

Hi, for your one shot event, can I request GN or F reader 🪻🎁👿 with Malleus, please (hopefully I did it right)

~~~

General Masterpost

Events Masterpost 1

Requested From: Oneshot Request Prompts 5/29 (starts) - 6/19 (ends)

You did it perfectly homie! I've been itching to write a Malleus fic lately too, so I'm really glad I got a request for him!

I hope you like the fic- and for anyone who doesn't get the emoji's cuz you don't know the event but wanna read anyway- the prompt is 🪻Crush, 🎁Gifts & 👿Jealousy, and it's mostly 🌸fluff. Also kind of a birthday fic? I had an idea for this and just went for it- so I hope you enjoy!

~~~

"You know, you shouldn't worry so much, I'm sure the Prefect will like anything you give them!" Lilia assures the crown prince, but Malleus can't find it in himself to feel any less anxious about the small black box in his hands with it's Diasomnia green ribbon.

Lilia had recommended that for your birthday he give them something more simple than what he'd initially planned.

But with all the priceless gifts you have given him, how can he possibly settle for something 'simpler'? 

They weren't expensive or luxurious gifts- but they were something worth far more to him than material value alone. They were meaningful. Thoughtful, and quite often handmade. Gifts you gave him not for any special occasion or to garner his favor or earn something from him in return- but gifts that you got him simply because you saw and 'thought of him.'

To think that he runs through your mind enough that simply seeing a new flavor of ice cream at Sam's Mystery shop inspires you not just to buy it for him, but to try and learn to home-make ice cream yourself for him.

Such genuine care and kindness that is borderline non-existent here at Night Raven unless someone wants something in return, is worth so much more than anything he could buy you with money.

"I know they will, but that's what makes this so difficult. I don't simply wish for them to like my gift, I want them to adore it as I do all of their gifts to me." He sighs as he tucks the box into his coats inner breast pocket to give you later.

"THE HUMAN WOULD BE COMPLETELY FOOLISH TO NOT ADORE ANY GIFT GIVEN TO THEM BY THE GREAT LORD MALLEUS!" Sebek helpfully shouts from across the table where he sits next to a sleeping Silver- who slowly wakes at the freshman's yelling.

"Is it time to head to Ramshackle yet?" Silver asks as he rubs his eyes and Malleus shakes his head, but Lilia answers in more detail.

"Cater's supposed to message me when Ace, Deuce, and Grim manage to get them out of Ramshackle and into town so we can all go over and set things up. It shouldn't be long now. It's a shame Trey already baked everything for the party- I would have loved to try my hand at making some cupcakes for our dear prefect's birthday!" Lilia floats towards the kitchen fridge grabbing some tomato juice for himself and all three of them glance at each other as the elder's back is turned.

Malleus thinks over his choice of gift as Silver makes a sarcastic jab at Lilia for his cooking.

... He should have gotten them something more grand.

An elegant, jaw dropping gift that they would remember for the rest of their life.

Afterall Lilia also mentioned he, Diamond, and Viper combined had to fight tooth and nail to stop Al-Asim from buying you an entire parade for today, so he can only imagine the gift and or gifts the wealthy heir may have gotten you.

Malleus is no stranger to the fact that you have others that care very deeply for you here at Night Raven. Others with titles to their names and great fortunes to spend just like him, trying to ensure you have the best birthday possible today.

It's a good thing, and not at all a surprise to him. You have such a brilliant personality and heart, how could it not attract more attention than just his? Yet... He knows that it also means your attention will be torn between all of those attending this celebration of your life today.

How frustrating...

He needs to keep his mood light though- and his powers under control. The last thing he wants is to cause a thunderstorm on your birthday because of his frustrations at not having your sparkling eyes on him the entire event.

Taking a steadying breath he already made the decision days ago to give you a more extravagant gift during the party- he doesn't want to be outdone by anyone after all- and the one he's got resting in his pocket later.

Hopefully if he can get a moment alone with you- even if it's after the party.

He spends the whole walk to Ramshackle when Lilia finally gets the all clear from Diamond, and the entire two hours they spend decorating and setting the party up with the help of the other dorms, thinking.

Trying to plan a way to speak with you alone once the chaos of the party erupts.

"Oh! They're back on campus- ETA 10 minutes! Everyone get into place!" Cater suddenly shouts and everyone picks up the pace, quickly darting around to finish some last minute touches and then gathering in the common room.

He stands patiently in the back as everyone talks among themselves, the chatter turning to hushed whispers when they hear the front door being unlocked.

"It was nice getting of campus at least-" You turn the corner into the common area and every shouts.

"SURPRISE!" You nearly jump out of your skin at as the crowd of all your closest friends bombard you.

Malleus chuckles as he watches at a short distance way- letting you take your time to smile, laugh, and greet everyone one by one, pure joy lighting up your face at the realization of what they've all done.

A surprise birthday party.

It was Trappola and the little Direbeast who initially came up with the plan, but when they started expressing it to everyone else, it took far less effort than they apparently thought it would to get everyone onboard.

Malleus isn't sure why. You have done so much for everyone here at Night Raven, have been with them through so much- of course they would want to celebrate you. You celebrate their birthdays with them after all- granting them thoughtful gifts and going out of your way to make sure they have fun.

So of course everyone would want to do the same for you tenfold. Even Kingscholar put in some extra effort to help Clover carry baked goods over from Heartslabyul and decor from Pomefiore. Not without complaining, but still.

The party is quite rambunctious. The group of friends you've managed to acquire in your time here at Night Raven are as odd as they are impressive. A unique mixture of people that before would have ripped their own teeth out before being friendly with each other.

And now here they are, bickering lightheartedly and laughing and smiling just for you. So that you can be happy on a day just for you.

Everyone snacks on the baked goods made by Clover and some of the snacks and drinks brought by Ignihyde that Schoenheit is actively complaining about how they're unhealthy, while Viper and some others a preparing a proper fresh cooked dinner in the kitchen now.

"Hornton!" His head darts to you, an instant smile on his face when he hears you call him that silly and bold nickname of yours.

You're making your way to him, your second year friends breaking off into a conversation of their own as one of the Leech twins annoys Rosehearts and Kalim tries to keep Riddle from exploding at the teal haired man.

"Child of man. Happy birthday- and while you weren't the one to invite me per say, I am happy to be here nonetheless. Did you enjoy the surprise?" You smile brightly up at him- giving Al-Asim a run for his money (as much of it as he has), and he truly does start to understand the meaning of the phrase 'butterflies in ones stomach.'

"I loved it! I can't believe you all managed to pull this off- working together like this for me of all people-"

"You of all people deserve it the most, dear prefect." He interrupts, not daring to let them say a single thing to undermine themselves of the effect they've had on Night Raven as a whole.

Of the effect they've had on him.

"Oh- well, I'm glad you all think so... This is really nice, being able to celebrate with you all- though, though everyone keeps asking about me doing an interview like you guys had to do- Floyd wants to be the one to throw cake at me..." You laugh and Malleus chuckles as well, he forgot about that aspect of traditional NRC birthday celebrations.

"Well, I wouldn't mind witnessing your interview, though, I did wish to ask you if perhaps after the party, I might be able to steal your attention for a short moment alone?" He glances around before he asks the question, making sure no one else was listening in.

You tilt your head at him in curiosity- an adorable motion that he has to hold back a chuckle at.

"Of course! Can I ask why though?" You start and he opens his mouth to answer but-

"Prefect! Ortho brought some games over from Idia for you! We should totally play some of them!" Ace shouts from across the room, catching your attention and Malleus's glare.

"Oh, okay! You wanna come play too, Hornton? I can teach you to play." You offer but he shakes his head.

"I wouldn't wish to dull the mood by accidently breaking any of the controllers as I did last time I attempted to play a 'videogame' at Lilia's encouragement." He sighs still recalling his sour mood that day at being unable to comprehend the game Lilia was trying so hard to teach him and the crushed controller in his hands.

"Oh, well you can just come watch me play if you want?" You offer instead and he smiles softly.

"I would like that very much." He stands behind the couch as Howl, Sebek, and Felmier sit on the couch itself and you sit on the ground in front of the couch with your legs crossed, closer to the tv.

Trappola and Spade sit on either side of you while Grim makes himself comfortable sitting in your lap and the younger Shroud hovers by the arm of the couch. Lilia floats behind the couch next to Malleus, and the others gather around quickly as well when you start playing the game itself.

He isn't to focused on the screen though, the bright colors and fast pace game hurting his eyes. Instead his attention remains on you. He's glad you like the surprise party. He'd been skeptical about it when Lilia informed him about the planning of it, but seeing your delight from the moment you realized what they'd all done put to rest all of his worries.

However... As his eyes remain on you, he can't help but notice how the others give you similar looks of admiration and fondness. At some point, when you switch to a multiplayer game you and Trappola get into a playful shoving match trying to throw each other off and win.

Your laughter is infectious and all of your freshman friends join in on cheering you on, even Sebek chuckles a bit at Trappola's loud complaining of it all.

... Maybe he should try his hand at learning to play these 'videogames' again.

It takes far more effort than it should for him to get control of the foul envy burning in his chest, and to keep the clouds at bay outside.

He'll not ruin your party with bad weather from his poorly controlled emotions. That and it's not very dignified for him as a crown prince to be feeling this way to begin with. You are not just his friend. You weren't even his friend first. You were theirs. You've known them much longer, so he has no right to wish to tear your focus away from them.

And yet he does. He wishes very much to be the one your having so much fun with right now.

He turns his attention away from the scene, and instead wanders away to the kitchen to check on Viper. Perhaps helping him with his task will distract him from these stubborn feelings.

He ends up being tasked with setting the table- which he opts to do by hand. Normally he'd magically set everything up in a matter of seconds, but he wishes to take his time. Just until you finish playing games and he can attempt to capture attention again.

He shouldn't feel the need to- you've already agreed to speak with him later tonight, and yet his over a century of well practiced patience seems nonexistent today. He wishes to be by your side in solitude from the others now.

How shamelessly selfish of him.

He finishes with the table just as Viper finishes cooking and calls everyone to the incredible smelling feast. The Scarabian student truly is an excellent cook...

He tries to focus on said food as much as possible, and not the scene of you and Al-Asim praising Viper for his hard work, which turns into you teasing him for how embarrassed he becomes at said praise. Nudging him with your elbow, and patting his back in reassurance. Laughing with Al-Asim-

He almost shatters his glass of water in his hands when the wealthy ruby eyed heir hand feeds you one of the roasted vegetables from his plate.

He manages to place it back on the table in time, keeping his expression neutral and fist clenched in his lap under the table and out of sight. He closes his eyes for a brief moment to stop the thunder from roaring outside, but he cannot seem to banish the grey clouds that start to dim the sunlight.

He's grateful at least though that no one notices. Everyone is to distracted by their conversations amongst each other to notice the cloudiness outside.

After dinner Clover brings out the cake he'd made for you- which he politely declines a piece of, much preferring a simple bowl of ice cream instead. At least that helps lighten his mood.

And then you start accepting gifts. He doesn't pay much attention to what others give you throughout the exchanges.

He does, however, note that Kingscholar got you an expensive wooden chess board with wooden and gold gilded pieces, making a smug comment about teaching you to play properly, but not letting you win so easily.

Al-Asim got you an entire set of handcrafted gold and rare gem laced jewelry from the Scalding Sands- a luxurious gift that you accept hesitantly as Jamil stands behind him mouthing 'I'm so sorry.'

The sight makes him chuckle.

Schoenheit, almost predictably, got you an entire set of his favored, and very much expensive, skin, and hair care products as well as a promise to take you with him for a spa day soon.

Lilia gifted you a rare trinket from one of his travels to a distant land, Silver got you a quilt that according to your reaction, you've been wanting to buy from Sam's for some time now but didn't have the money too. Sebek got you a fiction book set- one that Malleus recognizes as a series of books by the same author on fae traditions, history, culture, and fairytales.

When it comes his turn to grant you his gift he carefully summons it, a small box then the one resting in his coat, but with a far more grand gift.

A sterling silver, rare Briar Valley gemstone encrusted brooch of the Draconia family crest, with a powerful protection blessing cast on it by his own hand to ensure your safety so long as you have it on your person wherever you go.

It also acts as a permanent invitation to the Briar Valley and the castle whenever they should so desire to visit him.

"I would welcome your presence anytime." He smiles as they instantly hook the brooch onto their dorm vest.

"This is incredible, Hornton! It's so pretty... Thank you- I'll wear it with me everywhere!" You vow and before he has time to process it, your arms are around his torso.

You hug him tightly and while he would like to return the favor, with his heart beating in his chest as rapidly as it is, he's not sure he'll be able to control his physical strength even the slightest bit. So instead he gentle rests his arms around your shoulders to reciprocate your remarkably bold act of affection.

"How very bold of you- you never fail to surprise me. I'm very glad you like it, child of man." He chuckles and hums as he lightly closes his eyes, cherishing every second of the hug before you pull away to get an earful from Sebek about your actions.

He spends the rest of the party beaming, counting the seconds as slowly, one dorm at a time, the guests take their leave as the party ends, with Diasomnia remaining last, having promised to clean everything up.

Mostly for the sake of Malleus being able to do so easily with the snap of a finger.

"Hornton! You wanted to talk to me alone right? Why don't we go for a walk while the others finish cleaning? Since they won't let me help." You pout a bit at your last words and he chuckles lightly.

"I would like that, prefect. Shall I lead the way?" He offers you his arm, and attempts to keep his heart from skipping a beat when you giggle and accept it, leaning into his side as he leads you outside.

The night air is cool and the stars and moon shine above- the sun having fully set nearly an hour ago.

"Did you have fun today, child of man?" He asks- already knowing the answer, but wanting to make sure anyway.

"I did. All of this... It was so nice of you all to surprise me like this- and all of your gifts were so generous and thoughtful... Really, all this effort just for me just feel like to much..." They admit with a gentle, tired sigh making Malleus look to them with a soft look and an even softer smile.

"To much... Child of man I dare say all of this isn't nearly enough to celebrate you and all of the happiness you've brought to us. To me. Perhaps I should have agreed more with Al-Asim on his parade idea?" He hums lightheartedly and chuckles at your wide eyed horror.

"Please no. I'd be so overwhelmed, and I'm pretty sure Jamil might actually walk into the ocean." You laugh nervously and he carefully pats your hand in assurance.

"Worry not, while I do believe you deserve everything this world has to offer, I will only grant you that which will make you truly happy. Or at least that which I hope will make you happy." He sighs wistfully, the weight of the small gift in his breast pocket growing every step he takes with you by his side.

"And that's already more than I could ever ask for... Thank you Hornton- for your gift, and just for being here. I was really glad to have you here today. This might just be the best birthday I've ever had." You squeeze his arm tighter and his eyes sparkle at your words, unable to tear his eyes away from you.

"It overjoys me to know that you value my mere presence so much. Most here at Night Raven do not..." He can't help but lean further into your touch, your warm presence perhaps the most comforting thing he's ever felt in his many years of life.

"Well, they're all foolish not to. You're a wonderful friend, Malleus." Your voice turns very serious as you say that, dropping the nickname for a moment to show as much, stopping in your tracks to look up at him.

And for a lack of better words, it makes him swoon.

"You have no idea how happy it makes me that you feel that way, and... I wished to speak with you alone because I have another gift I wish to give you- it's not as grand as my first, but... You bless me with the most wonderful hand crafted gifts and gestures that I wished to be able to return the favor." He brings a hand up to grab the wrapped box in his pocket and hand it to you.

Watching as you take it carefully from his hands like it's made of precious glass.

"Malleus, you didn't have to go out of your way to handmake me anything-"

"I wanted too. You mean more than you'll ever know to me, prefect. I wanted to try and show it with more than just an expensive gift, but with one I put as much time and effort into as you do for me." He reassures you and gestures for you to open it.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. He keeps a calm, content face, but his insides are fluttering again. It's not perfect, he knows it's not, but it's as good as he could get it.

"Malleus... Did you really make this yourself?" You murmur as you pull the black cord bound necklace from the box.

The cord had been difficult to tie without magic, but he'd seen you tie friendship bracelets by hand enough times for your friends that he simply knew he had to do it himself as well.

Still, that was the easy part in comparison to using pliers to wrap the silver metal around the sparkling green emerald to then tie the cord around. He kept breaking the pliers, and at one point even crushed the gem in his hand and had to select a new one from his personal horde.

Hence he had to settle for the less-than-perfect way the silver is coiled around the gem. It's still pretty in it's own right, if not a little uneven. Perhaps he should have chosen a more jagged crystal shard instead? It would have looked less out of place to have messy silver wrapped around it then the perfectly rectangular emerald...

"I did. It took more time than I planned, and I have a far greater appreciation for jewelry makers now." He murmurs, almost more to himself than to you and you chuckle at the words.

"It's beautiful... I think I'll wear this everyday too." You smile, putting it on, the cord long enough to slip over your head and onto your neck.

"Then it's brilliant that you look beautiful wearing it." He sighs at the sight of you.

You look perfect. You always do to him, but wearing both the necklace and brooch he got for you, stars and moonlight casting an ethereal glow around you... He's half a mind to confess right here and now, but...

Not yet.

He's still waiting for his grandmothers response to the letter he sent her about wishing to court you, and while he plans to do so with or without her permission, it would be much easier for both of you to have it.

For now, simply admiring the slight flush that rises to your cheeks at his words is enough.

"I must admit, child of man, I have spent much of today stewing in envy." He confesses that at least and you perk up, eyes wide and head tilting in that adorable way it does.

"Envy? Why on earth- or well, why in wonderland I suppose- would you be envious, Hornton?" You ask him and he takes a small step closer to you.

"You've gathered quite the collection of close friends, prefect. All of which vie for- and even require your attention constantly. With all of them in attendance today, I found myself selfishly wishing to be in their place several times throughout the evening." He explains and your face softens, smiling up at him so very fondly.

In a way no one's ever looked at him before- not even Sebek for all the boy's loud admiration for him.

You reach forward, carefully intertwining your fingers with his, holding his hand as if it was made of glass.

"Oh, trust me, Malleus. No one could ever have my attention the way you do."

...

Maybe he doesn't need to wait for his grandmothers response after all-

~~~

Word Count: 4,031-ish

So this was about a 1,000 words longer than I planned it to be, but, eh, the inspiration just hit for this on, and I'm pretty proud of it. I hope you all enjoyed, and I'll get the next request out in a day or two! ~ Roo

[taragreenfield]

Aleksander Morozova aka the worst manipulator that (n)ever manipulated

I have no idea why this fandom insists on Aleksander being a great manipulator, because he absolutely sucks at manipulations. Bardugo wrote a character who doesn't even try to manipulate and then was like, "Hey, by the way, he is sooo manipulative!!"

First of all, he doesn't manipulate the public perception of him. He has a dark reputation; people literally believe that he was born without a soul and sews prisoners' mouths shut. Nobody is charmed by him, and nobody trusts him (apart from his Grisha, who have known him personally for quite a while).

Secondly, with Alina, during her stay in the little palace, he didn't employ any manipulative techniques.

He doesn't love-bomb her, he's actually quite detached and aloof most of the time. When they kiss, he looks confused and quickly retreats. Some seducer-manipulator.

He doesn't try to make himself vulnerable or play on Alina's feelings (when Alina tells him that she thought he was going to torture her, he could pretend that he is deeply hurt by this assumption to make her feel guilty, but he stays unemotional and changes the topic), he doesn't share personal stories to make her feel sorry for him.

He doesn't play on her insecurities (like Baghra did - by pointing out her orphanage upbringing and telling her how much she sucks at sun summoning).

He doesn't isolate her - she has a full palace of peers, mentors, and servants to talk to. If he did truly want to isolate her from Mal, he could have forged a letter from him saying that Mal doesn't want to see her anymore since she is Grisha, so she knew she had nobody to rely on outside the palace.

He doesn't really try to get close to her - Alina herself mentions he is rarely in the palace, and even when he is, he mostly minds his own business. A good manipulator would use any opportunity to be alone with their victim to influence their thoughts, to steer their mindset, to develop trust and to create the illusion of intimacy. How do you manipulate someone if you talk to them once a month for five minutes?

He doesn't try to indoctrinate Alina - he could easily show her how hard it is to be a Grisha. A shift in a war hospital, to see people who suffered from anti Grisha brutality, a meeting with survivors, a history lecture at least? To cause a strong emotional response, to radicalize her. Nope, he lets her swan around the palace, gossip with Genya, and have pissing matches with Zoya.

After Alina runs away and he captures her, he could easily continue manipulating her. Baghra didn't provide any evidence; it was just her word against his. A good manipulator would easily spin a story about Baghra being an old, demented hag whose brain was destroyed by wasting sickness, and now she's paranoid and embittered to the whole world. He could have also added some sad stories about Baghra being abusive to him as a kid to make Alina feel sorry for him and guilty for believing his abusive, senile mother over him.

Moreover, Alina's behavior itself suggests there was no manipulation. Baghra tells her Aleksander is evil (with no proof, mind you), and Alina immediately believes her and runs away. There is no hesitation, no suspicion towards Baghra, no attempts to uncover the truth herself or confront Aleksander, no attempts to find a justification for him or convince herself it's just a big misunderstanding (like a victim of manipulation would do).

Judging by what we see, Aleksander seems like a person who is out of touch with his feelings (and the feelings of others) as he deems them distracting. He's not attuned to the emotional factor and misses every single opportunity to influence Alina's feelings. The worst he does is lie about the Black Heretic Descendant and not tell Alina about his actual plan for the Fold. But he is a war general, and she is a rookie soldier with pre-existing bias toward Grisha and himself. Telling her that and risking her running away or, worse, snitching to the King, would be criminal negligence and practically a death sentence not only for himself but for all Grisha under his care. He doesn't tell her not because he's set on gaslighting her personally; he doesn't tell her because it's strategic suicide. He's not her farmer boyfriend lying to her about where he spent last night; he's a general responsible for the fate of the entire country and a persecuted minority under his care.

If you want me to believe that Aleksander is a manipulative character, you've got to give me anything to work with.

Having Baghra hoot "he manipulated so many young girls!" after he was shown not possessing a single manipulative bone in his body is not nearly enough. It's just the laziest telling not showing, blatant narrative gaslighting, and overall incompetent writing.

[greypistacchio]

how is supernatural so unapologetically queer like. cOME ON

it's 9.10 ("Road Trip") and Crowley is using Sam's head as a pin cushion so they can talk to Sam without Gadreel listening in. which is obviously not something that Dean can bear for more than a few minutes, so he walks away on the very visible verge of having a breakdown about this whole mess!! and Castiel follows him, and Dean who is infamous for never reaching out when he's in pain does not push him away or pretend he's not in agony!!

there is a generous amount of eye-fucking, but there's also Dean being completely honest about how guilt is eating him alive, which isn't something he tells anyone about! usually he shoves it down for later, because he feels even worse about burdening others with his own pain and regret. after all, doesn't he deserve it!! didn't he do this to himself every time he fell short!! he's not going to give himself the mercy of leaning on someone else, because he doesn't get to. not after failing. he doesn't get to tell someone else about how painfully inadequate and guilty and exhausted he feels, because he doesn't get to share the burden or be understood.

but then,

DEAN.- Cas, I'm sorry (...). Kicking you out of the bunker. That's uh... You know, not telling you about Sam. CASTIEL.- You thought his life was at stake. DEAN.- Yeah, I got played. CASTIEL.- I thought I was saving Heaven. I got played too. DEAN.- So you're saying we're both a couple of dumbasses? CASTIEL.- I prefer the word "trusting". Less dumb, less ass.

in waltzes Castiel with his own mistakes and crushing guilt, and two sentences are all he needs to do to comfort Dean. why does he get through to Dean when Sam has been unable to for 9 seasons now? what is it about this Angel of the Lord in a trenchcoat?

see, Dean thinks himself inferior to Sam in many ways. he couldn't follow his heart like Sam did, he couldn't stand up to their father like Sam did, he isn't fundamentally good at his core like Sam is - or so he tells himself. but Castiel. oh, Castiel, angel of Tuesday, he who fell from grace. he whose good intentions unleashed the Leviathan on Earth, he who thought he did not deserve to be saved and let go of Dean's hand.

what sets Castiel apart, time and time again, is the extent to which Dean trusts him as an equal. sure, he's an angel whereas Dean is a human hunter, but that's the least important thing about them in each other's eyes. the exchange above makes me feral because it shows, once more, just how deeply Dean trusts Castiel and values his opinion of him. Sam would have never made Dean snap out of it in just two sentences, let alone make him smile, but Castiel? Castiel pulls it off like it's as easy as breathing to easen Dean's pain.

they see themselves in each others, they are both mirrors, they are their father's little soldiers who could never be enough, they keep trying oh so desperately to save the world and their kind, they both refuse to give up on protecting others even when it tears their heart apart. only Dean can get through to Castiel with an "I need you", only Castiel can get through to Dean with an "I got played too" (see, you are not fundamentally bad, I trusted the wrong people in my desperation to save the world too)

holy shit does the CW realise what they've got going on here, or did Castiel's radiance melt their eyes and that's why they are queerblind

[venusscore]

Bat family gets neurodivergent kid (reader)

(non-specific, but I try to add as much as I can to make everyone feel included. I will probably make one specific for my personal things in the future, but this is just a general one :))

ALSO I know I usually do all of the Batfam, but I’m still working on ideas for the others, so I will have to just post it with the main batsons (Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Bruce)

Bruce has found out he has another biological child, but they’re neurodivergent:

Bruce had, of course, known about your diagnoses (if you have one) beforehand. He thought it’d be fine- he had dealt with so much more than just a kid who’s a little special, right?

He didn’t realize that there’s a big difference between a kid with severe trauma, and a kid who is naturally different than the rest of the people around them

So one thing he was surprised by was your ability to obsess/hyperfixate on something. It’s not like he minded buying you the merchandise, or bringing you to the cons, or listening to you talk for hours about your interest (he actually quite enjoys listening to you, and it makes it easier to shop for your birthday and Christmas), but he just didn’t expect to be fully taken aback by your enthusiasm

He also didn’t know how to handle your abnormalities with schoolwork, especially if you’re unmedicated. He still loved you, of course! He loved you so much. You’re his baby, no matter what age you are, but he’s had to learn to accommodate you

Dick has known many people, and he’d be lying if he said that none of his teammates or friends were neurodivergent, so he had a much easier time adjusting to your needs

You’re overwhelmed? Here, he has some earplugs and knows the perfect breathing exercises! You want to sit in complete silence and shut down? Dick will make you some little snacks and make sure everyone leaves you alone! You need to ramble? Dick wouldn’t mind listening!

He’s your brother- your OLDEST brother- and he wants you to rely on him/have somewhere to go

Jason is NOT equipped to handle this. He’s in the boat with Bruce of ‘trying to learn, but has a long ways to go’

Sometimes he says jokes you take too literally, so he’s had to teach himself to cool it a bit, or at least clarify that no, he does not hate you at all. Sometimes he gets too loud or worked up when you’re shutting down, so he’s gotten you to give him a signal when you need him to tone it down or just leave you be.

He’s trying. He may not understand as well as Dick or Tim, but he’s trying, and he appreciates that you’re being patient with him

Tim is great with you! He did his homework, obviously, (come on, he’s Tim!) and he’s got as many things as you’ll need. He’s learned to carry fidgets in his pockets, headphones/earplugs if needed, and is ready to help in social situations when needed.

You and him both are mutual yappers. He yaps, you listen, and vise versa. It’s actually very refreshing! You feel better, knowing you can both enjoy each other’s company

Damian, to everyone’s surprise, is the most understanding.

Actually, many people assume that Damian IS neurodivergent (whether he is or not, he’s never been tested), so he’s pretty pleased to have a siblings that understands he isn’t being irrational on some things.

You need things organized a certain way? Him too. You hate change? He wishes everything stayed static. You don’t feel emotions the same way as everyone else/respond inappropriately to situations? Finally, someone who gets it! (ASPD, certain people with ASD, etc.)

You end up being one of his new favorite siblings

Extra:

(I keep seeing theories that Batman is autistic/neurodivergent, and I think those are cute so here’s my take on if you and him both liked bats a lot because I need fluff in my life)

Okay, so Bruce gets you, his second biological child (or first, depending on age), in his custody, and what does he see?

Well, it’s you, but the second you walk inside and see ANY piece of Bat memorabilia, you get all excited! It’s so cute!

He watches you guess what kind of bat is which, show him your own toys/shirts/etc. of bats, and when he tells you he’s the BATMAN? He finally feels like a cool dad!

Alfred is frozen SOLID. It’s just a mini-Bruce.

Suddenly, Christmas is very easy when it comes to shopping. One year, Dick decides to get you both matching pajama sets, and Bruce felt like he could cry.

He likes to call you “Little Bat” and stuff, which starts to be caught on by the rest of the family. It doesn’t matter if your 3 or 18, he’ll always call you that.

(Lmk if you like this a lot because I’d LOVE to write more of just Bruce and reader being hyperfixated on bats together)

———

Tysm for reading!! I plan to finish this with the others. I love them all, but these were just the easiest to think up ideas for

if you have a specific condition you’d like me to write for, lmk!

Thank you for all the support btw! This is so fun are y’all are so sweet!! 💕

[delayeddrabbles]

eat the rich - fwb!oc and frat!rafe (s3 based) - chapter 2

empty streets (part 2 of 2)

PREV | NEXT | MASTERLIST

plot: rafe's point of view as nat and aden are in over their heads trying to rangle him and get his drunk ass home safely and liasse with Barry to figure out what's in his system. nat's pov at the end. a/n: I hope it's alright that I've skipped over the fwb stage to the starting to catch feelings point. i promise they'll have a moment alone soon. let me know what you think. if any of you followed my old SMAU with these two i'd be keen to hear from you as well. not proofread prev. a reader series SMAU called late nights. gradient: text color fader - red to blue. divider: @fae-and-wolf

Ward Cameron was dead and no one but Rafe seemed to give a shit. Rose had fulfilled every bad expectation he’d ever had of her and taken the money and Wheezie and ran. And Sarah? Sarah was nowhere to be seen.

She didn’t join the call with the lawyers. She didn’t help him arrange a funeral. He was just alone on a boat with Sofia in the middle of the ocean with no one else to mourn with him. Hell, she hadn’t even read the will. This last precious piece of Dad that they had left.

The rest of Kildare still believed Ward had died in the explosion months ago so what felt fresh to Rafe was old news to everybody else. While he was still untethered by grief and haunted by guilt, the world had moved on, the world didn’t care. It was excruciating and only heaped on more isolation to the already separated life he’d started to live. 

Kelce tried, Topper invited him out, but they weren’t exactly the deep and meaningful kind of friends and even if they were…he wouldn’t know where to begin.  What could he say? ‘Hey, I tried to kill my dad but now he’s actually dead and I can’t take it back'?

'He forgave me and I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve any of it…Is it weird that a part of me feels relieved he's finally gone?’

Thank God for Sofia. If he hadn’t been able to confide in her and rely on her who knows what he might have done? She’d stood by him for as long as she possibly could, right until the bitter end when the grief got ugly and then she’d bolted in the middle of the night. 

Rose still had her hooks in him from miles away, It drove him insane. He couldn’t get any decision through the board of directors without her undermining him at every turn. Every backdoor deal, every get rich quick scheme, him and Barry had wanted to concoct was now dead in the water.

His Dad had let him have it – everything, the company, the house, all of it – but no one believed him. On the steps of the plane, he’d forgiven him, he’d handed him the keys to the kingdom. He was sure of it. He hadn’t imagined that. It had been real.

Rose didn’t care, she was still acting like he was unreliable, incompetent, immature. Like the college dropout who had wasted generator money on a new bike or the eight-year-old boy hiding behind his nanny the day she’d moved into Tannyhill. He’d be damned if let her take anything more from him.

Rose’s chokehold squeezing him out of the company and Sofia’s absence tainting his home left him feeling restless, antsy. Needed to get out on his own for once. Away from here. So when Rose shipped him off to college he couldn't get out of there fast enough.

He’d made a few calls, greased a few palms, and found a middle of the road fraternity. It had good parties but not in hot water with the school, socially active but not vocal on any committees, and not lame enough that they couldn’t get girls. He wasn’t going to sit around teaching nerds how to flirt. He had better things to do. He’d bullshitted his way through all the steps to get in and then holed himself up in his room ever since. The guy whose room he’d asked to take mid-year had looked at him like he was crazy…until he’d offered to cover his rent elsewhere.

He’d forgotten how great college could be for debauchery and debauchery was exactly what he needed right now. His first go around at Chapel Hill had been a disaster academically but a hedonist’s dream. No curfew. No parental supervision. Complete autonomy for better or worse. Most of the time it was for worse. Months had flown by in a drunken haze of stupidity and sex and Kildare, and all it’s troubles, was almost entirely forgotten.

Until that hole had opened up inside him again.

Florida had been a mistake. Not the sex. The closeness. The way it felt like she was working her way inside my like a creeping vine slithering and sharp and suffocating.

Aden had forced them all to chat. Wine nights, hot tubs, beach walks, fucking bonding, and the wave of memories and emotions had come flooding back.

Each moment with Nat now felt a ticking time bomb of vulnerability. She knew so much. Too much. What if she asked about his Dad? Worse, what if she asked about his Mom?

If he told her, he knew things would change. She'd melt into a sympathetic pouting puddle just like every other girl. The banter and the bickering and the safety would be gone. Big warm eyes, parted shocked mouth, soft sighs, and the furrowed brows and the hand rubbing gently on his back and he'd feel so disgustingly pathetic under the weight of that stare that he'd probably never get it up for her again.

So instead, he shoved it all that down, drowned it out. He didn't know why everybody was so shocked? This is what he's always done.

But this is a new scene. New people. Higher expectations.

Better he let them down now than later.

As if on cue, Nat comes storming into the half-empty park on a war-path, marching right towards him in muddied Ugg boots, flannel pajama pants, and her oversized navy "chapel thrill" hoodie - eyes blazing at him through the fog of his blurry vision. Glorious and vengeful

"Look at me," she snapped her fingers in front of his eyes, which still struggled to lock in on her even when he lolled his head to the side with a pleading pout. "Look at me! Where are your keys? Give me the keys."

Aw, she was worried. He lip quirked in amusement, red, wide eyes glinting slightly. "You're overreacting."

"No..." she crossed her arms and tapped her foot, and he couldn't help but grin at how far he'd pushed her already without even trying. "I'm under reacting. You distracted me on my date, and now you dragged me out of bed for this."

His stomach dropped despite himself. Rafe tried to rub the sweat and tears from his tired wide eyes to watch her lips move and ensure he'd heard her correctly. "You had a date?"

"Yeah. I could be dating women right now," she sighed in exasperation. Through the thick haze of liquor and coke, she tugged at his conscience, a small wad of guilt twisting in his gut. "Beautiful blonde vegan women with overalls and houseplant tattoos." Was this one specific woman or all women? Rafe swallowed down the thousands of distracting buzzing questions circling in his overactive brain. "Instead, I'm here. Helping you."

"I…appreciate it," he mumbled, rubbing a hand against the back of his clammy neck.

"Prove it." She remained obstinate and annoyingly sensible, inching closer with an outstretched palm," Give me the keys or you're walking home."

Rafe couldn't help but scoff at the forceful order, railing against it instinctively. "What are you going to do? Make me?"

"Yeah." She met his challenge head-on, yanking him to his feet and stepping closer, tilting her chin up to hold his eye firm, dark eyes solid and immovable. " I can walk miles in these things."

He snorted at her ridiculous choice of footwear and let his eyes wander over the greenery of the park to avoid her very direct stare. He bristled at her tone, refusing to take orders, infuriated by her babying. His jaw clenched tightly.

"Fine," she shrugged at his silence and walked around to the back of him without a care in the world. "Home time." Her hands felt warm and firm against his shoulder blades as she shoved his sweat-soaked back up the gentle rise of the hill. He tried his best not to get distracted by that sensation and instead focus on not fully faceplanting in the middle of the path.

"Stop. You’re being ridiculous!" he muttered, but she kept going, and so he shrugged her off roughly, whipping around her. Towering over her, thanks to the slope of the street.

She shoved his shoulders so he stumbled back, her scowl deepening and he couldn't help but return the gesture, anger flickering in his gut, forgetting his own strength until Aden stepped closer with a wary "Babe?"

"It’s fine." Nat shot a quick forbidding hand out to her best friend, "I’ve got this."

Rafe's head started spinning. Then her eyes were back on him again, only now they softened and creased as she stared up at him. "Why did you call me tonight?" He dodged her stare silently. "Why did you ask me to come here if you were just going to be difficult?"

"I wanted to see you."

"Well, good. You've seen me," she waved a casual hand over herself. " Now get in the car with A. I don't need your death on my conscience."

He could tell her patience was wearing thin, and he ducked his head at the scolding he felt brewing. A lecture from a parent. A stint in the principal's office. This gnawing sensation of being in trouble hung around his shoulders and wrapped around his ribs.

"Something-" his foot toyed with the grass beneath his sneakers as he finally mumbled the truth, "...something's wrong"

"With what?"

"The bag," he nodded in the general direction of where he hoped his car was with the stash of coke he hadn't finished in the too bright, too loud, too pink sorority bathroom.

"Ok. Then let’s get you home and figure it out."

Aden drove him back to Nat's apartment in a heavy, disapproving silence that made Rafe's hands tense for a fight.

Right so, all the other brothers could go and get smashed but Rafe goes missing for one night and now suddenly he's not good enough to be sleeping with his friend? Sure, that was fair.

Relief flooded his hazy mind when Nat finally found them again on the floor of her bathroom.

"His temperature's too high. I'm trying to get it down"

Rafe grinned at how even Aden fell into line under her command. That was his girl. She caught that smirk and rolled her eyes.

"Look who's feeling like his old self"

With Aden's help she managed to get him half undressed and under a cold shower but he pulled her right in with him.

The concoction of substances swirling inside him couldn't seem to decide who should win out. Earlier he was bristling and raging now he felt warm and flushed, trailing kisses down her neck.

Her sigh only made him grin against her skin and the strain in her voice as she scolded him only made him clutch her hips tighter.

"I'm still here!" a crackly voice bounced off the inside of the white porcelain tub. Nat shoved him off and gaped at the sight of his phone an inch deep in rushing water.

"What?" he shrugged. "It's waterproof?"

"Of course it is" she sighed and reached for the phone despite his hands still keeping her pinned to his lap. "Is it someone important?"

"Yeah. Be nice. I owe him money."

"Who's this?" she demanded,

"Wow, mama, slow down. He said be nice!"

She was so proper, so serious, that Rafe couldn't help but slide his tongue up the side of her neck again.

"Hello." she raked her nails through his short hair and put on a sickly sweet hotline voice that only made him want her more " Welcome to the Rafe Cameron is an idiot hotline. You’re speaking with Cynthia. How can I help?"

He muffled a bright laugh against her shoulder and nipped at her skin.

"I’m asking for a friend. Do we think he’s a total crackpot or just temporarily insane?"

"Oh definitely a crackpot"

"Ouch..."

"Did you give this shit to him?" He whines as she tugs his head back from her chest so she can feel his forehead again. It’s still scolding.

"No. He thinks some new kid messed up his supply. I'm his usual guy. He should've waited till he could get to me. Now he's all fucked up."

"Hey! I asked you to come!" he drunkenly shouted down the phone not catching the way Nat flinched and covered her ears.

"And what?!" Barry yelled right back " Hijack a ferry 2 in the morning brother? You know they don’t run this late."

"Still…." he grumbled into a pout which Nat caught between her finger and thumb to finally shut him up.

"Ignore him. Did he fill you in on tonight?"

"Yeah" Nat released him and Rafe leaned back against the edge of the tub and let the cold water come directly down on him now and muffle the conversation. He closed his eyes and soaked in that peaceful chaos.

"What do we do?"

"Test his stash. Have some naloxone on hand. You know a guy?"

"I know a guy."

"Course you do, pretty lady."

Aden comes and goes but he doesn't care. The water is soothing and her touch is gentle and if he can just hold on to this calm then maybe he won't spiral again.

But then she's up and moving and leaving the room. "Wait...what?" Rafe bolts up as his stomach lurched.

No, no don't leave me like this. His throat suddenly clamps down tight and his limbs are heavy and he....fuck. She's leaving.

"He just wants to talk." Nat stops and softens at she no doubt reads that panic in his eyes. "Hey...." she crosses back towards him and soft hands cup his face and chapped lips brush his forehead gently. "I'll leave the door open. You can still see me from here"

And then she's gone.

[dnangelic]

it's so funny that over in japan a guy who reads for a hobby is kind of whatever. if a guy anywhere else told me he read for a hobby i'd rate that at LEAST a solid 8 out of ten. not a ~4 like i've seen some jp girls give it. 'but what does this have to do with anything' i have to emphasize dai doesn't know games. he doesn't know movies. he doesn't go to karaoke or live concerts. he doesn't know popular stores or brands. anything that tends to carry a certain human social aspect, that quality is immediately lost on him. he'll never really 'get it' if there's a lot of hype surrounding something. but what he does love and can become spiritually intimate with is art, likewise entailing literature. his family's mansion already has an enormous library, and if he had more time, he'd probably read much more out of it. otherwise, if he's given any sort of option, or especially during long travels (ie train rides, overseas flights,) he's probably going to reach for a book and/or listen to some music first thing.

[brightresearchers]

being a cyrus as a villain enjoyer in gen 7 was a very malevolent experience because he got not one but two adaptations that straight up misrepresented him to take away his bite

like why is it that both of them ended with cyrus giving up and being wishy-washy about his plans when his most compelling trait as a villain is his sheer unstoppable determination