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#knowing that they can’t care for their young as well as the humans can
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First changeling was actually just an orphan faerie found by a Human and when they saw how well the Human took care of their own they decided move in on that for their kids’ safety
That’s what they don’t tell you about changelings, it’s not that you find your child replaced, it’s that one day you wake up and suddenly have “twins”
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doctormead · 28 days
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Maybe I just haven’t seen it yet, but I notice a derth of Alfred the Cat centered dp x dc fic prompts. So…presented for your approval:
Danny is on the run and hiding in Gotham. He really needs a place to crash, but there are so many ghosts staking out claims in this city as it is, the pickings are pretty slim. In desperation, he tries the higher class districts and manages to find one, count it, ONE mansion not already haunted. Danny settles in. This is ideal! It’s big enough that, if he’s careful, he can go human for short bursts.
But, you know that old folk tale about cats being able to see ghosts? I’d like to add for the sake of DP ghost powers “even when said ghost is invisible “. Alfred the Cat twigs to the presence of a young ghost haunting Wayne Manor. And, as Danny has no reason (as far as he knows) to hide from a cat, actually doesn’t bolt when Alfred happens to track him down in human form and even gives Alfred some ear scritches.
Well, this is unacceptable, Alfred the Cat thinks. If this human kitten was just a ghost, that would be one thing. But he is somehow also an alive human kitten and thus needs care.
Cue Alfred the Cat trying to manipulate both Danny and the BatFam into situations where he can’t help but be discovered (and adopted) with possibly the aid of other Bat Pets.
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If your taking requests can you please do Yandere Tengen uzui and his wives with a reader who died and was born as Tengens wives. ( a bit like recantation mawhnas)
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Reincarnated Wife to be | Yandere Uzui Tengen + Wives
Being reborn into the world of shinobi is hard
Your higher intelligence is helpful for somethings but it still doesn’t compare to strength training before you can properly walk
Not to mention its the Taishō era 
Everything is different 
No plumbing 
No typical school
And on top of all that demons are alive and well
In your new lifetime demons don’t physically appear until your early teens
“That man…”
“Yeah a demon. Those overpowered slugs got to our target before us.”
It’s brutal 
That the clan you come from was just so nonchalant of an epidemic on humanity
That was arguably much more brutal then sending a shuriken before an unsuspecting person’s eyes
You only realize they intend to give you away when you hear whispers of the arranged marriage
“He’s the only one who’s survived…”
“Ah he must have the best genes…”
“....or the only one who actually can learn from those graves on their property.”
“What are they at….six?”
The final nail in the coffin is when your prepped to meet with your fellow wives
“Make sure you take note of their weaknesses. It’ll make all the difference when it comes to his favorites.”
Your hesitant
By now you recognize the venue, your sister wives, his surname
But despite how cool it is you don’t want to marry the future sound hashira
You know how it goes 
And your not sure if you’d survive with your addition to the other wives
So you run
Using your built up skill and knowledge to get as far as you can from your family if you could call it that
Your plan is to hide in someplace until you can gather enough wisteria to give yourself a private sanctuary
In the meantime you try to find the mineral of nichirin
Enough for you to craft a decent weapon that bodes well when demons occassionaly attack you
For years you’re sure your scott-free 
Able to slowly widdle at the demon’s population in your little sanctuary 
That is until you stop at the sound of jingling chains from the roof
“I heard there were talks about a mysterious ninja outside of demon corp! To think it’d be just who I was looking for!” 
You barely escape a young but powerful demon slayer who you can’t seem to decipher
Is he trying to kill you? 
To catch you?
Why does he keep following?
You hold up pretty well for a while unil you narrowly dodge a star thrown in your direction
“We really liked you (Y/n). Why’d you choose to run away?”
If it wasn’t worse already all three of them seem to arrive from the shadows to continue their assault
You try to reason with them 
“Can’t you understand?! I didn’t want to be forced to marry some guy I didn’t know!”
“But you knew us! Doesn’t that make it better?!”
“No it really doesn’t!”
It’s getting overwhelming 
So unless you’ve mastered some kind of style of your own
They’ll overpower you
“Yack!” 
Your strength is preying on their care for one another 
Sending an unusual violent kick toward Hinatsuru 
You take advantage of them running to help her
Easily disarming a distracted Tengen, you run off 
But you aren’t home free 
For whatever reason your ex-fiancees are just so hung up about you 
And between Uzui’s new occupation he’s aiming for your capture
“You’re just as flashy as I’d hoped! When I do win, there’s sure to be fireworks.”
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year
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Cleaning services (perv!Konig x fem!cleaner!Reader)
Konig needs help in decluttering and cleaning his house. Unfortunately for you, he takes quite a huge liking in having pretty things like you around. And he isn't very nice about it.
TW: Perverted Konig, age gap, Konig masturbates at you without consent, implied kidnapping, yandere Word count: 3754 This work on AO3
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There is no shame in having a professional cleaner, König tries to tell himself. 
Yes, he is a grown man with a very dangerous job that requires having a lot of responsibility. He holds the lives of his soldiers in his hands and risks his life every day not for the sake of his country, but certainly for the sake of his wallet and the reputation of KorTac. 
Hiring a professional cleaner for his house shouldn’t make him feel humiliated and embarrassed, and he knows it. Cleaners are basically like soldiers – doing stuff that other people can’t for a certain amount of money, providing services for the clients who can afford it. Besides, it’s a support of his local community – after everything he took from the people around his town, it’s only natural that he would support this growing business of cleaning services. 
There is no shame in having some nice old lady cleaning his house and watching over it while he is too busy trying not to kill himself or drown his head in liquor after a particularly rough mission. When you lose two guys on a run that was supposed to be the quickest task possible when you’re returning home with an injury that isn’t really that serious but brings your whole mental state into a very dark place, and when you’re forced to take 3 weeks of leave in the place you hate, hiring a cleaner to take care of everything really shouldn’t make him so ashamed of himself. 
Even if he can clean his space – the house is just too big for only one of him, and his ribs still have this funny feeling of fantom bullets traveling around his guts. So, he dials up the number of the cleaning services because he is too fucking old to understand their weird website and messenger ordering, even though speaking with a human operator on the other half of the line is somewhat more humiliating that having no idea of how to use a modern interface. 
There is no shame in asking for help, his therapist is trying to shrill it in his head all of the time and yet he is still hesitant when the cleaning professional is knocking on his door, finding this place surprisingly fast. König braces himself, thinking about all the ways he could avoid having a conversation – he drew a quick map of the place, put down the room cleaner shouldn’t be entering – his gun safe, mostly, already repeated in his head how he would greet them and swiftly extract himself from the situation. 
“Guten Tag, please, come in. This is the map of the place, don’t go to the red door on the right, don’t hesitate to ask questions, I will be on the second floor.” He takes a few wide, swift steps to his door and stops. Thinks again, overthinking, thinking too fucking much about everything, anxiously checking on his phone to read the message that yes, his cleaner is here and he should probably open the door or they would burst down the window. “Guten Tag, come in. Map of the place is here, don’t go to the red door to the right, please hesitate to ask questions, I will be somewhere around the house, lurking in the shadows” He braces himself to open the door, ready to see that sweet old lady who would spend the next 8 hours cleaning his house and then turn back another day to rinse and repeat until his house stopped looking like a place where a very, very miserable man lives. (Even if this is true) 
But, there isn’t a nice old lady with a bunch of cleaning supplies and determination to make someone’s life easier. 
But, there isn’t a cold middle-aged woman with a very professional no-nonsense attitude who wouldn’t even talk to him before going straight to work. 
But, there is a young girl. Well, not a girl, of course, if he had to guess you were somewhere around the “Too fucking young, but definitely legal” spectrum. Young enough to not be alive when he was already going to school, young enough to make him sweat, and definitely not old enough to be accepting a job where you’d have to spend so much of your life cleaning and scrubbing and sorting and…
There isn’t anything shameful in ordering a cleaning service when you genuinely need it, but you’re young and you’re pretty and he isn’t even wearing a mask because he is an old dumbass that forgot about it, and you look at him with your shiny eyes and…
Maybe, he should clean on his own – would definitely be less shameful. 
— Sir? H…hello? Good morning? Can you hear me? 
Yes, he can hear you. 
Yes, he would love to hear you every single day of his life, when he wakes up and when he falls asleep. 
— Ja. I apologize, I…thought it was mail. 
It’s a dumb excuse, but he can’t really say that he was just too fucking mesmerized by your shiny eyes and perfect hair and nice figure and basically everything about you. He has this nasty habit of imagining a future with people around him – with people who just fucking want to be left alone, and yet he still stares and looks and it’s probably ultra uncomfortable for them – but he can’t help imagining the life with every cute lady in the grocery shop or elegant lady sitting next to him on a train. 
He has a pattern – people who are not interested in him in the slightest. He has a pattern, a preference, cute girls, smart girls, popular ladies that were never even so much as looking in his direction. He could probably score someone now, having a colonel’s salary and honorably discharged payments, but he gave up on trying to find anyone. He has friends, company, has work where he spent most of his life anyway – he doesn’t need anyone, he wants to think. 
Then you waddle into his life with a bunch of cleaning supplies and a small vacuum, barely able to handle everything in your hands. He rushes to help and envelops your hands with his – you are so much smaller in comparison, he has bear-like arms and horribly big everything. he feels awkward when he gently removes everything from your arms – when he tries to help by simply putting everything on the table of the next room. 
König hated this house – it was big, it was empty, and the only reason he didn’t sell it was because Mother’s things were still locked in her old bedroom and every time he tried to clean it and evaluate the cost of the house, he decided that he will Do It Other Day. Coincidentally, all of those days were also followed by three-month minimum missions, making him utterly unable to do everything about this place anyway. 
This is why you’re here – a hired cleaner, a sorter, you promised to de-hoard everything and see if there is anything of value. Perfect for someone like him, especially since he is paying you double for spending the whole day and a few days more in his house exclusively. 
Now, he looks at how awkward your smile is, how you fidget with the edge of the broom you brought, and how you can’t even start a conversation because he is simply staring at you, staying in the living room of this dead, almost abandoned house. Now, he looks at how cute you are, how perfect, and remembers that he didn’t score with anyone in half a year already – not even in terms of sex, the casual flirting was also forbidden since half of his unit was transferred and the new people weren’t really fun of his tough methods of breaking rookies in. 
When was the last time someone genuinely smiled at him? 
Ah, he is staring again. Scheisse. 
— Where do you want me to start, sir? 
He wonders how much he should pay you to clean him instead. Would you be gentle? Rough? Would you call him a pervert, which he is, and then slap him and yell at him for being such a horrible old dog who is ready to pounce at every pretty girl in his presence? He would do anything that would set his mind free of the thought about Mom. Her bedroom. This whole house that he can’t call home ever since he turned 6 and understood why Father was always so, so angry. 
— The living room. If it’s not too much. 
He barely stops himself from talking more – you look weird, you loom surprised, you look at him like he is fucking stupid and, in fact, he is. Of course, it wouldn’t be too hard for you, you’re his clean, for fucks sake. You come here to clean, you get good money for it, he shouldn’t feel guilty for using your services because, in some way, he actually provides you with a job and a cute thing like you shouldn’t go to other houses, with old perverts that can do unspeakable things with the adorable worker. 
Ah, yes, perverts like him. God, he is hopeless. 
— Alright. Do you want to note something, like if there is anything I shouldn’t touch? 
He would allow you to take your adorable, yellow glow-wearing hands to get into his personal savings and all of his bank accounts, if you’d want to. He curses under his breath, hating how professional you are – hard worker, perfect, simply a fantastic person who deserves more than working for him. You aren’t trying to shy away from the job and he almost resents you for it. 
You’d make a good soldier, he thinks – you’re able to hear the orders and oblige to them, you’re obedient and came even before the discussed time. You’d make such a perfect private for his unit, he observes. 
Ah, right, he was supposed to answer you. Shit. 
— No. Just don’t go to the second room on the left. 
— Alright. Anything else? 
He grumbles under his breath, trying to get into the right headspace to deal with someone like you. König knows it’s rude, to just ignore and leave you like this – but if he were to stay in he same room as you, he would do something horrible, disgusting, and completely dishonorable to you. So, he leaves – escapes – to his office. Father’s office, mostly, the only thing here that belongs to him are some documents and useless papers – and a laptop that he drags to every other room anyway. 
He doesn’t like this room, it reminds him of the worst episodes of his early childhood – yet, this is his only reserve. He doesn’t want to leave the house because the territory is secluded and if something were to happen to you, he would be the only one able to help. He also doesn’t want to leave his gun collection with you – he doesn’t want you to find it and freak out or hurt yourself. 
This is what he tells himself, at least. He wants to be there with you, in the same room preferably, but horrible for his anxiety, because he wants this illusion, phantasm of having a loving relationship. Of having a woman in his life, a lovely housewife who would cook for him, clean for him, and would be absolutely spoiled with gifts and attention. God knows he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body – but he will carve one out of his ribs for you. 
And he only knew you for an hour tops. 
König feels like literally the worst man alive when he spread his legs and starts stroking his hard, glistening cock. He brushes over the swollen, red tip, not allowing himself to have any lube other than spit and oozing pre-cum – he tries not to cum embarrassingly quickly, thinking about your perfect gestures and smiling face. How perfect you look in your cleaning uniform – not like maids from the occasional porn he was watching, but still beautiful. Your body is perfect even with all of those ugly layers and grey fabric – and he can’t stop thinking about the sway of your hips or glimpses of your legs under your dress.
He thinks about you, bent over his couch, trying to clean the especially dirty spot on the furniture – how the material of your dress would be tight around your ass. The image makes him grunt quietly, stroking his barely wet dick even more – the pain from the dry sensation only makes the pleasure all the sweeter. He is hard, was hard for the past 10 minutes as you were introducing yourself and whatever your deal is. He is dirty, perverted, knowing only your name and your face – and he is still stroking himself, thinking about paying you extra just so you’d get on your pretty knees and suck him. Would you be sloppy, messy, get his cum all over your face so you’d have to wash it off? Would you be experienced, eager, trying to get as much seed as possible with that pretty tongue of yours? 
He is a lost cause because he hears the sounds of vacuum – you’re only a few rooms away from him, trying so hard to clean his house for him, to work through every bit of furniture and everything he acquired for the past twenty years or so – and he moans loudly, knowing that you don’t hear anything. You’re probably listening to music or some silly girl’s podcast about planets and gardens and maybe some university lectures. He’d pay for your courses, he would get you any book you want – having his salary and barely spending it made him softer in the saving habits. 
He can afford to splurge on a pretty girl who just needs a rich Austrian mercenary to sweep her off her feet. But, he is old – but, he is a monster who preys on someone helpless, using her pretty face to jerk himself off, and he doesn’t even deserve your number, although he has had it since accepting the service. 
His cock is big, angry red in his hand as he runs his finger over the bulging vein, teasing the sensitive flesh – always loud in bed, with grunts and moans of pleasure, he can barely contain himself now, only forcing his mouth shut when he doesn’t hear the sound of vacuum anymore. He strokes his dick fast, angry, and slams it into his fist, trying to make the pain last longer, so he won’t cum after a minute or two. He has the stamina to last longer – but it’s also the first time he was so horny since…he can’t even remember. 
König thinks about putting you in his bed – like a perfect housewife, you would hug his waist with your legs, would allow him to lick and grope at your tits, and won’t scream too much when he’d force his tongue inside of your precious pussy, taking every last drop of your pleasure. He wouldn’t want to be forceful, angry, you’re too precious for this and too weak for his strength – but he can imagine slamming into you in a matting press, cumming inside and not even pulling out, warming his cock in the heat of your body. 
Father would kill him for doing something so dirty in his office – but he is long dead, devil save his soul, and it’s König’s office now. Even when he barely uses it, even if he doesn’t really need this. It came in handy when he had to jerk off to the pretty cleaning girl who cleaned up after him – so, somehow, his father managed to improve his mood 15 years after he died. 
He cums with a low groan, whispering your name – he doesn’t understand how a pretty thing like you still works here and wasn’t taken by someone else already, but he would take what he can get. Never the one to get the first dibs, never being someone’s first choice – he feels terrible for thinking about you in such a low way, but his pleasure sticks to his fingers and, at this point, it’s too late to feel bad. 
Drying the tip of his dick with a tissue, he spends a good few minutes with spread legs, his soft cock laying on the chair, with cum still oozing out – such a waste, honestly, would be much better to stuff you full of his cock or even take your pretty ass, spread you slowly. Keep only the tip in, not pressuring you into anything more until you’d start moving yourself, like a good slut you will be. 
So perfect under him – the images and sounds of your voice are running through his mind, making him breathe heavily. If he was younger and had as much sex drive as before, he would already be hard – but he needs some time to relax, thinking about your pretty legs and adorable face. 
It takes him a few minutes of listening to your sweet voice to understand that you were not, in fact, a hallucination or a mystical fairy coming to make him come. You were standing outside of the office door, looking embarrassed and clearly hearing at least some of his horny mumblings – you avoid looking at him, and your fingers are trembling when you tug at the sides of your dress. Guilt immediately rushes to him again, he looks at you like a perfect treasure you are – and he is a horrible monster trying to hoard all of it to himself. 
— What is it, liebling? 
Petname goes smoothly from his tongue and he can only hope that you don’t know German – he is too embarrassed to talk to you, too anxious, his newfound shyness is a result of both your beauty and the post-nut clarity that already made him feel like a monster. He contemplates just giving you money and sending you off, paying double for the false call, and leaving you a 5-star review so you won’t get in trouble with your boss. 
You look so meek from his angle of view – he has to fight the urge to pinch your face, squeeze your cheeks, grab your waist in his firm hands, and just lift you in his arms, holding you to his bed. Maybe getting a nice set of cuffs to ensure you would never escape from him. 
— I finished with the living room and…well, I just wanted to ask if you want the decluttering work to be done today or tomorrow. 
He remembers how he basically paid you for a few days worth of work – and he smiles at exactly how perfect this decision was. Of course, you are a smart girl, a modest girl, you aren’t staying the night and would rather waste time on the road, much to his dismay, but at least he would see you for a few days already. 
He might not even let you go after. 
— Ach. Today, if it’s not too…
He stops himself again – of course, it’s not too much, you are a professional, not just a friend that comes to clean his place for a pack of beer and maybe some pizza. He doesn’t know how to talk to you, anxiety eats him whole, and he has to just avoid looking at you to avoid further embarrassment. 
— Alright. I will do it right away then. 
You smile awkwardly, your lips are twitching and he already knows that you could hear him moaning your name and sweet little praises while stroking his cock. You aren’t biting the hand that feeds you, not running away screaming at how perverted he is – poor girl, you probably need money more than you need personal safety if you’re fine with him heaving like this. If you were his, he would never allow you to be so careless. 
He moves behind you in the most dreaded room of the house. Mother’s bedroom, a room that she only used for sewing and only allowed him in when he was extra whiny after another failed fight with his bullies. All of her thighs are here – ever since she passed away, he just moved everything to one room and locked it, barely bothering to keep a key. He hates being here, almost as much as being in Father’s office — this room smells like death and old paper and you scrunch your nose in an adorable expression when you take a step inside. 
— I will divide everything into categories, alright? 
— Gut.
You look at him nervously, clearly scared that he is watching over you now. It might feel like a logical decision – after all, it was his mother’s vintage things, who knows what kind of jewelry she kept here, something that he won’t even notice gone until it’s too late. You and him both know, however, that this isn’t the reason he is looming over you. A perfect obedient thing, you deserve something better than his affection, but he still locks his gaze with yours, looking at your hands and going through various furniture pieces. 
You work like a fairy, not an ounce of laziness or exhaustion in your actions – even after you already spent a few hours cleaning his living room, you act like a Cinderella that got a bunch of magic mice up her rags. He licks his lips, looking at your perfect ass you as sit on your knees, starting with decluttering every little box there is. 
— Can I just put it back in boxes or…
You look the the contents – vintage makeup, some jewelry, head pieces that don’t look particularly expensive but were definitely well-loved. You wonder who they belong to – probably a wife, or, maybe, some of his relatives who lived here. He doesn’t seem like a married or divorced man – he does, however, look insanely lonely. 
It takes him a good few seconds to respond, too mesmerized by the little song you were humming a minute before. He imagines you in that old, chunky jewelry, some necklaces that cost more than your salary – and the thought makes him salivate. 
He smiles, leaning closer to you – hot breath on your face, you shift immediately, scared. He is so fast for someone so big, his movements are perfect and his eyes are cold – you feel the chill deep in your bones when he moves even closer, his lips almost brushing against yours. 
Suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that he locked the door to this tiny room when you both moved in. 
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tiyoin · 5 months
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morality
‘malleus x reader’
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malleus, who every time you fall asleep surrounds you in bristling thorns.
malleus, who does everything in his power to extend your life. he believes that stopping time- even a few hours would give him that much more time with you in the future.
malleus, who cares so deeply for your health and well being, but can’t help but make you sleep more often than you usually would in hopes of extending your life
malleus, who sacrifices the present for the future. it doesn’t matter if you’re awake when he’s off completing royal duties.
malleus thinks that’s time wasted that could be saved for the future. he’ll sometimes keep you under his spell for a few days, but it’s okay. you aren’t missing much anyways as you’d always voice how sad, cold, and lonely the palace feels without him.
malleus feels no guilt in commanding you to sleep. he thinks it’s a fair trade for the dreams he gives you. where you always receive a happy ending. with him, of course. with the hopes that those dreams will have you longing for the days to come.
malleus’ favorite dream to bestow up you was the one where you and him are in a cabin in the woods. especially the scene of two purple and onyx eggs cuddled up nicely in your arms. your back laid against his chest, your body almost sinking into his, almost like you were trying to steal the little warmth his reptilian blood possessed. or maybe, it was him whose arms were wrapped tightly around your body that was trying to keep you as close as possible.
malleus would think the roaring fire that sat not even a meter away would be enough to keep you both warm. not even the blankets in your shared bedroom seemed to quell the ice in your veins…
malleus would either read to the three of you, a new book each time- or, the two of you would discus baby names. brainstorming ideas to and new endings so you could continue the legacy of his ancestral names. he could never get tired of the way you referred to your little miracles; m&m. it was a candy from your home, you’d always explain, never failing to make his lips curl up in amusement.
malleus, who was warned that this marriage, this love was doomed from the very beginning. but he didn’t care, hadn’t fully considered your morality as there had to be a way to extend it… yet even lilia wasn’t able to escape death’s cynical clutches.
malleus who must always listen to your dreams, your hopes and excitement of the future, deep down knowing that it’ll never happen. that they’re never occur and never take fruition. and it frustrates him.
malleus who would send you into a deep slumber when he wrecked the castle, screams and wails of anguish echoing throughout the soulless walls of briar palace. was this how his grandmother felt? completely and utterly alone? her lover and daughter long gone as she was condemned to more pointless years of empty solitude. with not enough love for even him? her grandson.
is that how he’ll turn out? cold and alone?
insane?
not even sebek would last long. silver was on the same clock as you, both condemned to sleeping to stop the ticking hands of time that seemed to tick tick away.
malleus wanted a family, you knew that. biology be damned he’ll have his happily ever after with you. with every dream he can see the want growing inside you too.
malleus wants his, your children to at least know who the woman in the portrait is. he wants you to tuck them into bed, watch their first steps, and console them when the weight of your morality gets placed on their young shoulders.
malleus wants to scold them for breaking objects while you give him those big pleading eyes to ‘give them a break! they’re just learning how to walk in their human forms,’ malleus wants to catch the three of you baking cookies in the royal palace, he wants his children to sneak into meetings just to see him- only for you to be seen (and heard) trying to get them out without entering yourself. he would sometimes chuckle, imagining them hanging off of sebek like a ‘jungle gym’ (whatever that was) as the knight would do everything in his power to not move.
he wants you there to witness their changing from dragon to human, he wants to go through dragon teething with you as he knows it was a struggle for lilia alone. he wants them to draw on the old suffocating walls- only to be interrupted by your horrified gasp. scolding them for doing such a thing to the royal palace, only for him to be revealed as an accomplice. doodling away with them while critiquing and adding onto their drawings.
malleus wants to stress sebek out as he searches high and low for the king, who was miles away in a ruine with his family playing hooky. of course, not without a secret picnic basket and blankets.
he wants you on his back while he’s in his dragon form, his children struggling to fly at his speed as you take a family glide through the starry night just because.
he wants them to tell him that he was doing the right thing by timing out your death clock, saving a few minutes for tomorrow.
he wants you there when him and his future children go on diplomatic missions to other nations. he wants to enjoy the cuisine with you, the sights and views with you like that one college trip to the scalding sand. he already knows the words he’d tell that he failed to tell during that trip. that nothing will ever compare to the twinkle in your eyes or the beauty of your smile. he wants to hear his children’s groans and remarks of disgust as he spews poetry at you. kisses you. like it’s the last time he ever will…
there’s all these wants that he’ll never have.
he… hopes, his children will get their magic early- especially their unique magic in hopes that one of them can save you from your fate.
he wants a family portrait, with all four- or more, of you- this fully depending on how your body will deal with the trauma of the birth of your first born.
malleus curses the fates everyday for making his soulmate- his mate, mortal. receiving a human soul instead of a fae’s… it’s a cruel joke, he chalks up on night, when his temper was especially bad. when his thoughts were more pessimistic than usual. all because he spotted your first grey hair as you arrive in your early thirties.
malleus, who stands placid in the library, staring at the locked glass doors of the forbidden section. his fist clenches, then unclenches repeatedly- a war going on in his mind as he remembers his grandmother’s warnings of entering that room… of reading and using the contents of those books.
malleus scoffs, arrogance radiating from the young prince-king. his grandmother’s image flashes through his vision when his touches the door, sternly warning him of the cardinal sin that would be committed if he ever used the dark magic their ancestors created, used, and evidently locked away. she warned him, begged him to never feed into the whispers of their DNA, to never entertain the delusions that came with puberty and age. to learn about the world so he knows the natural order of things- the circle of life and death that he too, would one day be apart of…
malleus will have his happily ever after. he’s suffered so much already, doesn’t he deserve it?
the answer is yes. yet fate keeps continuing to deny him his right.
malleus deserves the happiness he never got to experience, family that he was robbed of all those years ago. and if he is to be condemned to tartarus for his misdeeds… then he will drag you down with him, forever together.
so sleep. dream your days away as malleus searches and scans the entire royal archives for spells or potion recipes that can fix this problem.
he promises the days will no longer bleed together, he promises you and silver- even sebek, will be able to stay awake for as long as him. he would give his soul to make sure the three of you stayed.
malleus will be there when you receive the news of your friend’s deaths. dropping like flies one by one as the years continue to pass. you will have each other when you stop reviving funeral invitations. he will be there for you when you look in the mirror, age not matching your appearance as you compare your hands to that of your friend’s corpses. you will truly have only him, and he hopes you will want to stay with him for as long as possible, just as he wishes.
he will take care of everything, so don’t fight it, okay? he will allow you to live different lives throughout each dream. illusion of free will at play since he will always be there, condemning you to the same love, same life, and same routine no matter where he places you.
he loves you… so very much.
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literaila · 6 months
Text
jealousy
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: satoru doesn't like the way the barista is looking at you
a/n: figured i'd give you all a little fluff (save me from this void)
last part | next part
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*
year five.
“megumi, go get your mom.” 
satoru and megumi are sitting in a crowded cafe, saving your spot, waiting for you to come back. 
while the sun coming in through the window satoru is sitting across from is partially blinding him, he can still see you. 
you, trying to order, being ogled by the barista who's been granted the pleasure of speaking to you. your smile is normal--to satoru's obvious disdain--and you don't even seem to mind the man's obvious flirting. 
(not that it really means much. when satoru leans in like that, you just push him away. when he swoons at the way you've done your hair on any specific day, you just roll your eyes. 
so maybe you're not the best judge of flirting. or attraction. or how to reject a tiny schoolboy, like the one you're talking to.)
satoru's only been watching this interaction for thirty seconds, but he's had enough. 
“why?” megumi turns, looking back at you. “she’s getting us hot chocolate.” 
satoru sighs, no care in the world. can't the kid ever listen to him? “go hold her hand then.” 
“why?” 
“because.” 
“but why?” 
satoru gives megumi a (pathetic) glare. “listen to me, young man," he tries to say it like you would--if megumi ever denied any of your requests--but it doesn't work. satoru has to try not to laugh directly after the words are out of his mouth. 
so what if he doesn't want you talking to that kid? he's just looking out for you. 
megumi's brows raise. he looks... almost amused. “what’s wrong with you? you go hold her hand.” 
satoru hangs his head. you told him to sit here and keep the table for all of you, told him to watch megumi and not do anything stupid--which, to be fair, is difficult for him. so he can't go get you (save you).
and plus, he doesn't want you to know that he cares. if you like that kid--with his stupid dark hair and eyes and soft smile and obvious heart eyes--then he doesn't want to know. 
and if he goes up to you, he'll know. 
“i can’t," he tells megumi, instead of saying any of that. the boy would just cackle in his face. 
“are you scared?” megumi asks, very seriously, as if satoru is afraid of anything. 
(besides you falling for someone else, of course. but that doesn't count). 
he looks over to the kid again, who you're chatting idly with as you search through your purse. he wonders if you're telling the barista that you spend every night in his bed, making out with him until your lips are puffy. 
if he keeps smiling at you like that satoru is going to get up and tell him himself. 
satoru scoffs, looking away finally, back to megumi who looks thoroughly entertained by his father's pain. he crosses his arms. “no.” 
megumi shrugs, looking back again. seriously, satoru should've kicked him out when he had the chance. he probably would've been fine with the zenin clan. probably. 
“well, i’m not doing it," the boy says, with obvious satisfaction. 
if only tsumiki was here. satoru never should've let megumi ditch school, or let him come with you both to get coffee. tsumiki would help him. she probably would've asked you to get yakitori instead and satoru could listen to you try to make small talk with a waitress instead of that guy. 
“megumi fushiguro,” satoru begins, voice rough. “do you want your mother to live in a rat-infested apartment with a random, cesspit man, and several tiny babies running around all of the time? tiny wimpy babies? normal, human babies. you’ll have to stay over there and share a bed with multiple infants who will spit up on you.”
megumi blinks. “what are you even talking about?” 
“go stand next to her," satoru hisses, because he swears he can hear your laugh from across the cafe, and honestly he's never wanted to destroy an establishment more. 
and that's saying something. 
at least the man would be without a job and satoru would never have to see him push his hair back and tilt his head at you again. 
megumi looks back again like it's going to explain anything satoru does, and he smirks. “that guy doesn’t look too bad.” 
satoru's jaw clenches. “i will mismatch all of your socks.” 
megumi scowls at him. "all of my socks are the same, after last time." 
satoru huffs and leans back against his chair, pouting. "what did i do to deserve this?"
“do you think mom likes him?” megumi asks, voice so innocent it makes satoru want to shave his hair off. 
“go.” 
megumi blinks at him, tilting his head. yeah, he's really putting on an act now. “but she said to wait here," he reminds satoru like it matters. 
“tell her you missed her, or something," satoru goes to wave a hand, but his hand only clenches when he physically sees you laugh at the man. you're not even ordering now, you're just standing there (waiting for their drinks) talking to the guy. 
“you tell her you missed her," megumi retorts, enjoying satoru's one and only weakness. 
"no." 
"she's laughing," megumi points out, resting his chin on a hand. "and it's rude to interrupt grown-ups when they talk."  
“megumi,” satoru begs, hating the weird, annoying feeling in his chest. he wants to dig his own heart out and yell at it. “please.” 
megumi is basically smirking at him now, waiting for a beat longer for satoru to really break--and seriously kill every person within a ten-mile radius--but eventually, right before it happens, the boy sighs. his eyes are evil, evil things. 
"fine," he tells satoru, rolling his eyes. he stands up from his hair and pats satoru on the shoulder like it will make up for anything. the boy has the worst smile satoru's ever seen in his life. 
and then he makes his way through the line of people--seriously, this guy is a terrible barista--and taps you on your waist, going to stand right up against the counter. megumi says something to you--you will all of your charm, and your irresistible smiles--and you hold a hand out to him, which he grabs immediately. 
your smile, satoru notices with immense relief, shifts on instinct. it goes from something formal and polite to something genuine. you look down at your son and the barista you've been talking to for the last minute is completely irrelevant. 
and satoru takes great satisfaction in the way the kid's eyes widen, and the instinctual step back he takes--like he knows that satoru is going to hurt him if he continues to lean over the counter towards you. 
satoru relaxes, watching you ask megumi something, but only slightly. 
and after a second you turn your head, raising a brow at him. 
the little brat. 
satoru just smiles--offering you more than some shotty barista ever could--and leans back in his chair. 
“why are you being so weird today?” 
satoru’s chin is on your head, and even though you can’t see his smile, it falters, just a little bit. "don't know what you're talking about." 
"you're sticky." 
"i just showered." 
"okay," you say, turning and rolling your eyes at satoru's pout. instantly his hands go to your waist, keeping you right there with him. "first of all, no you didn't. and i didn't mean literally. you're... clingy. more clingy than usual." 
"i can't want to be around you?"
you give him a blank stare. "not when you're being weird about it." 
"how am i being weird?" 
"how aren't you?" 
satoru grins, leaning his head down to push his nose into your cheek. you smell like something sweet--something he'd devour in an instant--but he's not sure what. he doesn't even care. he doesn't answer that question, only hums into your skin. 
"see what i mean?" 
"it's not my fault that you're comfy." 
"oh, im so sorry," you say, fake pity in your voice. "let me just turn myself into stone real quick." 
satoru rolls his eyes, pulling back just so he can see the amused look on your face--yeah, he knows that you don't actually care. but the more he hangs onto you, the more affection he shows, the warier you get. 
and that's perfectly fine with him, actually. as long as you don't push him away.  
"please do," he says, so genuinely. "it would make this a lot easier." 
"make what a lot easier?" you ask, voice a bit softer. maybe it's because he's looking at you now, actually looking. 
and satoru knows, really knows, that there's not a single other person in the world who you look at like this. there's not another man that you'd let sniff you, no other man that would dare to irritate you the way that he loves to. 
satoru's worked several years to get you to be this comfortable, this easy around him. and even if there was someone else--he wouldn't give you up without a fight. 
you're his in a way that transcends labels or reality.
still, he doesn't answer that question (because you already know). he only smiles a bit more, leans in, and basks in the way your lips mold to his immediately. 
*
next part | series masterlist
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lovebugism · 2 years
Note
Imagine rough sex with eds and you guys just break the bed and you have to tell wayne
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✶ ┄ BROKEN BEDS !
summary: you and eddie break his bed. the worst part is having to tell wayne. pairing: eddie munson / f!reader warning: smut! eddie being the cutest human alive! a wild appearance from uncle wayne! 18+ mdni! a/n: i need everyone to know that when i wrote this draft, i titled it "breaking bed" and it made me chuckle a lil. anyway, thanks for your request anon! enjoy xoxo
( MASTERLIST )
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when eddie muson fucks, he fucks like a wild animal
he grunts with each of his rough thrusts, brown eyes somehow darker with lust while his untamed curls cling to his sweaty forehead
and you just let him drill into you because, truth be told, you love him this way
you hold the backs of your thighs and keep yourself wide open for him while he fucks so deeply into you
he leans over you, one hand white-knuckled where it grips his headboard, and the other wrapped around your throat
not tight enough to choke you exactly, but to make sure your eyes stay locked on his as he fucks you for all your worth
the headboard slams into the wall in time with each of his thrusts, rhythmic bang bang bangs that you’d be scared are leaving a dent in the wall if eddie wasn’t making you feel so good
he tilts your jaw to the side to expose your neck to him
and he hides his face in the sweaty crook of it, seeking refuge there while he nips and suckles at the warmed skin
you just keep begging for him to go harder and deeper and faster as he fucks you more and more stupid
and eddie complies without question
he revels in the way you keen each time he pounds into you and how your face scrunches up and your back arches for him
your toes curl and your legs tense up so hard they start to quiver
and right when you’re about to come, the bed suddenly jolts and dips beneath you, accompanied by loud crashing sound
it scares the shit out of you and you squeal while eddie lets out a grunt of surprise
because his bed just fucking broke
and it isn’t the most surprising thing in the world, the thing is about as old as he is
but it does take the two of you off guard 
all you can do in the moment is laugh about it
and eddie barely wastes another second before he starts fucking you again
because his bed is already broken, who cares if it gets more fucked up?
plus he knew how close you were to your orgasm and you just look so pretty when you come <3
the worst part about it though is telling wayne
because there’s no way he’s not going to notice
and eddie can’t exactly sleep on a crooked bed
so he just comes up with the shittiest excuse known to man “so the thing is... i was… jumping on the bed…”
wayne furrows his brows “the hell were you doing jumping on your bed?”
“well, you see, i was just, you know… trying to… heal my inner child…”
“…what the fuck does that mean?”
but, like, obviously wayne knows
typically you’re good at keeping eddie in check and sometimes he can hear you saying you don’t want to fuck while wayne’s in the house
and that’s a part of the reason he likes you so much bc you don’t want to put him through that trauma
but you guys are young and in love and sometimes keeping your hands off of each other feels like the hardest thing in the world
so he knows exactly how the bed broke
but hearing eddie trying to lie about it is the funniest thing on the planet
shopping for a new bed frame is easily the most adult thing you and eddie have ever done
and the only one he can afford is a star wars themed one in the children’s section
eddie groans and acts annoyed about having to get one that’s so childish but you know he secretly loves it
because the headboard is shaped like the cock pit of the millennium falcon with lightsabers painted on the foot of the bed
you try to put it together without wayne’s help while he’s at work
and you’re like “how long do you give it before we break this one?”
“an hour if you wine and dine me first <3”
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have any blurb requests? send em here if you want!
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unluckiestmember · 2 months
Note
Hey so I LOVED your X-Men x sweetheart reader and I was wondering if you could do a similar head cannon of X-Men x kind reader but their reaction to you being good with kids. I just feel like they would have various opinions or feeling if they saw you interacting with a child.
Coming right up!
X-Men '97 X Compassionate! Reader
Characters: Nathan Summers/Cable, Scott Summers/Cyclops, Jean Gray, Remy LeBeau/Gambit, Rogue, Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler, Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto, Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch, Pietro Maximoff/Quicksilver, Morph, Logan/Wolverine and Jubilee.
Warning: None. SFW.
A/N: So how did you guys feel about Deadpool and Wolverine?
Cable
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“Well would you look at that! Seems someone knows how to get along with the kiddies… Oh don’t mind me, keep playing.”
Cable isn’t used to hanging out with children or being around them due to his workload, but he does enjoy the presence of kids that look up to him. He hasn’t really thought about wanting kids because of his fear that the disaster of a future he’s from would be too harsh for a child to be raised, let alone he is scared that something will happen to them.
However, when he sees you being so compassionate with children, it makes him reconsider a little bit! The sight of you and the kids at the local shelter on his base laughing and playing together makes his heart sour. Whenever he finds himself down in the dumps and needs a good boost or reminder of what he’s fighting for, he will just watch you and the children happily running around and realize why he’s the famous freedom fighter the young ones and yourself admire.
Cyclops
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“Huh, you’re a natural at this! Makes me wonder how things would be when you become a parent of your own kid.”
When he sees you taking care of children on and off missions, Scott can’t help but stand and watch you with the biggest smile tugged on his lips. The sight of you all happily living your lives without a care in the world makes him remember the civilians he is fighting for. And more importantly, it makes him think of giving the family thing another shot!
Can you blame him? The way you are with children makes him daydream a perfect life away from the mansion raising a family together and properly being there for your child. Though there is hesitance to it all due to the result of Nathan and his last relationship, if you assure him, then he will definitely try to be a father again. Because with you by his side, can he really fail again?
Jean Gray
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“Aww! Are you playing nice? Mind if I join in? I’m sure they would love to see my powers in action.”
Jean has thought of having a family with you when everything is settled down. So before she can have this ideal world of raising a kid with the love of her life, she can get a peek into a potential future in the brief moments of you caring for children, mutant or human. Whenever she sees you taking care of a child, usually during a mission, she will assist you in any way and naturally take up a mother role she’s used to having around the mansion.
The team can always find you two trying to make sad or distraught children on missions turn their frowns upside down with some powers or just speaking to them and making sure they are heard. You and Jean are definitely the go to for young ones, and if you both around children confirms anything, it’s that you two would be great parents someday.
Gambit
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“Look at you all go! Mind if Gambit takes a stab at this, mon amour? I’m sure I can win their hearts. I won yours, didn’t I?”
Gambit is used to dealing with the younger folk of the world because of his time around them back home. So when he’s around children, he can easily adapt to them by playing some mindlessly fun games, pulling off tricks with his cards or telling some jokes. That’s not surprising though. What’s really surprising is him finding out you’re a pro when it comes to little kiddies!
When he found out you were a natural, he was beyond impressed by you and even let his mind wonder on a more intimate possible future down the line for the both of you. Around children, he’ll have you both as a package deal with you as the caring caretaker and him as the funny guy who will not hesitate to flirt and send signals your way in front of the kids. With how much he’s flirted with you, the kids always mistake you two for a married couple! A married couple… That doesn’t sound half bad.
Rogue
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“You got these kids all excited, running and screaming like a bunch of baby banshees! You’re a natural, babe!”
Rogue wasn’t a big kid person on missions. She simply gets the job done and if there are children that need assistance she leaves it to someone who can be more intimate without fearing they’ll hurt them. She stayed this way until you showed off innocently how well you were with younger civilians.
At first when the mission called for dealing with kids, Rogue watched you from the sideline in silent awe of your tender love and care for children that were distraught or needed a distraction. Yet with time, simply watching you gave her the courage to join in and actually help out by giving out free rides on her back or showing off her immense strength. Together you two are a happy fun couple kids love to be around as much as Rogue just loves being around you. Now whenever there’s a mission with the young ones, she’s more than excited to tag along with you and live in the moment.
Nightcrawler
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“May I cut in? I can play a mean game of tag!… Really?! Then round up the kiddies because I’m it!”
Because of Genosha, Nightcralwer is just as good with children as you are! He enjoys his time with the little ones around town or during stakeouts because of how accepting they are of him and how much their laughter fills his heart with joy. Now mix your own laughter in because of your handling with them and the blue devil was sure he was getting a slice of heaven.
The both of you are so well together and with others that the team delegates you both to taking care of the children on missions and making sure they’re okay. Around you both, the kids can expect a bunch of games to be played and a lot of memories to be made. Whenever a mission calls for babysitting, Nightcrawler knows exactly who to call on to assist him in having a little bit of fun on the job!
Magneto
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“The future of mutants is bright if you’re around to bring such laughter and happiness.”
Though Erik has children of his own, he’s pretty subpar for a caretaker let alone a babysitter of mutant children. He tries his best of course, but the lack of fatherhood he was allowed made him a bit rough around the edges. Luckily he can depend on you to pick up where he lacks and he thanks you deeply for that.
Everytime he takes a moment to look at you with kids just minding your own business and being giddy without a care in the world, it makes him wonder if he’d be open to trying to raise a family once again. He knows with age and with the weight on his shoulders, it may be harder for him. But if you’re by his side, he wouldn’t mind giving it another try and stepping up to the plate to be a better father than he ever was for Wanda and Pietro.
Morph
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“Hey, if the kids want to see a few tricks, send them my way, alright? I can throw them for a loop and think there’s two yous running around!”
Morph is decent with children, but they mainly leave that kind of work to you. When it comes to the more emotional attachment, they need a bit of work on that, but if you’re talking tricks and jokes? Then they are the right person to work with on missions dealing with kids!
They use your connection with children to playfully throw you for a loop by shapeshifting into someone and tricking you a lot just to get some laughter in the air. Most of the time he succeeds but there have been a few times where both of you just team up in some funny interactions that are bound to leave the children happy in your presence. Honestly, Morph wouldn’t care so much, but since you’re around? They don’t know- You just bring out that side of them! And they kind of love it!
Wolverine
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“Of course you’d be good with the children, what did I expect?… Don’t mind me, I’m just keeping watch. Have fun.”
Children and Logan don’t mix that well. He just finds it annoying to babysit when he already does that with the teenagers at the mansion. Add that with some crying, whining and begging and he becomes pretty livid. Which is why he doesn’t like missions that deal with kids. That is, unless you’re there to help him out.
He finds your handling of children to not only be a big help for him but also a nice change of pace. It’s adorable seeing how kids easily gravitate towards you and how you let them do whatever they want. Whenever they have you pinned down in a game or surrounded, Logan can’t help but laugh at the cute little ambush before he breaks everything up. He doesn’t like kids and he still can’t stand them. But you make them more bearable, so there’s always that!
Jubilee
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“Hey, babe! Send the kids over here- I’m gonna do a mad fireworks show for them!”
Jubilee is, surprisingly enough, really good with kids! She’s a lot like a cool aunt to your nurturing parent bit! She thinks it’s cute that you’re good with children and even compliments you around them when she’s not busy with other kids on a mission. The firecracker can rely on you to assist her or even stop her from making whacky moves that could get some children hurt out of pure excitement.
It’s not hard for everyone to know you two are a couple because of how much she calls you by pet names or makes fireworks that send signals to you if not make some look like you. It’s awfully sweet of her and it makes you comment that not only is she a great girlfriend, but she’d also make a great mom. Though, it’s highly recommended to hold that because if Jubilee hears you speak of motherhood, she’ll cringe at the thought. She likes kids, don’t get her wrong! But she could never be a mom!
If you got any requests for X-Men '97 or Arcane, send them my way!
Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3
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Text
DPxDC. Talon Dick. Part 2 of Danny Fenton is a new master of The Court of Owls
~Hail, Emperor, those who are about to die salute you~
Danny was terrified when he got the body of Talon in his morgue. The Court of Owls was notorious for leaving no trace after work. But Talon, a young man only a few years older than him, did not look like a mindless killing machine at all. Of course, the first time he had a couple of stab wounds from his new acquaintance but after numerous assurances that his help would remain their little secret and that he would not inform his superiors that he had fucked up on the mission, Talon began to trust him a little. as one dead boy to another. In a few months, most of the Talons come to him for first aid, and of course he got attached to the guys. After all, Gotham is not Amity Park and without the other dead ones around Phantom felt a little lonely. It was nice to give these poor people a few quiet minutes. Danny’s assistant has warned him many times not to mess with the Court of Owls, but Danny are Phantom and from the first time he met one of them he was planning to lose his temper and beat the boys' bosses to free them.
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Fenton was not prepared to lead the Court of Owls. Even if Danny got his education as a villain he never thought he’d work according to his profession. But leave a whole den? nest? of creatures turned into weapons he could not. Of course, the best choice after defeating the leaders of the Court would be to destroy the entire organization. But Danny couldn’t do that.
Talons were killers, means of intimidation, even if not of their own volition. They will be killed (again) or sent to prison for the rest of their lives. Talons needed safety and a good therapist, not all of this. Danny’s scared, and he doesn’t know how to take care of them, but the others won’t do it. People are afraid of everything different. They won’t care that these dead are just victims, they’ll only see monsters. He could be half-human, but now he has to think like a full ghost. Talons are dead like him. And they have been dehumanized, tortured, used. People can be cruel. To do the right thing, he has to protect them.
It was difficult for Danny to identify likes and dislikes of his new friends because they always had the same facial expression and were taught that they had no feelings. Bullshit. Danny’s parents also think ghosts have no emotions, but they just have wrong theories and do not manipulate them to make ghosts think the same. Well, maybe it’s because they don’t think ghosts can think at all, but still! So, Danny know that number three loves strawberry jam, and number five always steals some of his cereal, and number 11 always gets closer to the music column to enjoy the sound. And he also know that the Talons weren’t fully fed in their organization because they definitely have problems with their digestive system, and he is going to fix it. Vlad said that he had trouble taking human food for only a few months after the portal accident, and some of the Talons were dead for years and still use injecting nutrient solutions. When a Dead Man can’t have a couple of spoons of treats, well, that’s a crime.
He needs to find a way to consult with Frostbite and conduct a full-fledged health diagnostics for his 'minions'. And he needs to settle the paperwork so guys have a legitimate reason to live in the Infinite Realms.
~~~~~ Danny: Hey Jazz, I’m in trouble. When can you come to Gotham? This time I don’t mind hearing a little advice.
~~~~~
Even though Dr Fenton smelled like death and blood all the time, the smell was different. And this difference was enough that something dead inside them swore allegiance to this Owl at their will. Not that they had it, of course. Weapons don’t have free will. But at least pretending to be able to choose is nice.
The new Master was weird, but in a good way. Not that this Talon know more about what is good than any other Talon. Ah, Di- Talon had a headache. Anyway, serving him is right. They all feel it..And feelings matter!! Well, they are not supposed to have them too but… looks like the young owl didn’t mind.
Master was not angry at how Talon № 4 frowned when the master had to pull a bullet out of his shoulder, and he missed Talon's sweet laughter when it saw the battle of Signal and Spice King on TV. The only times he raised his voice to them were when they were trying to threaten people near the master. Looks like this owl wanted to instill fear on his own. Strange. Usually there was always an enemy of the court who had to be hunted down and destroyed.
~~~~~
Danny: See, when you kill people, you do not make it easy for me. First, I will need to examine the bodies and write the report of their death. Second, if their souls remain restless, they will become my problem again. No more trying to get the cashier to have a heart attack. He said they ran out of the product I needed, not that he’s cursing my family for the next millennium. No one wants to see any more angry ghosts in Gotham. Me after a 24-hour shift is enough, okay?
Talons were alarmed. So far the master had shown no signs that he might want to completely break one of the weapons. But what if this owl is planning on punishing them for all their mistakes at once when he’s really angry?
Talon is not supposed to show initiative or empathy. But Talon 12, who suffered an injury in the course of a mission with old owls, has not yet recovered. They inadvertently hid it when the leadership changed. 12 has not yet met Doctor Fenton, and they do not know whether the privileges of medical care are retained now when they belong to him. So far, the Master has been rather careless about their movements and a few of them have slipped away for a while to check on a fellow. They didn’t lie if they weren’t asked about another weapon, right? They shouldn’t be punished too severely when the Owl finds out. Talons were hoping that Doctor Fenton, who was not in a hurry to look at the document of the court, would allow them not to write off the damaged thing. № 12 was an old and experienced weapon and could train beginners even if it has only one hand now.
Well, that was the plan. Talons allowed themselves to become too careless. Terrible mistake. Even the Owl that is usually nice to them remains dangerous. They need to find a way to satisfy their young master. Young Owls always have anger issues, not that Talons can judge.
The youngest Talon shared information that he sometimes had flashbacks of a working red bird who always had a murderous expression until he got to the coffee pot fluid. And it's non-Talon past was never afraid of this bird. The chick could always be calmed with this dark liquid. Coffee is something that will return the master to the favorable mood!
Talons rejoiced at this remarkable discovery and decided to send one of them on a mission as soon as possible to get rid of the potential danger.
~~~~
Danny: Thanks for the coffee, man. Hey, you also took another drink, judging by the dollars in the check. I'm so proud of you! How it was? Good?
Talon thought for a second and nodded. Yes, it was good. He didn’t drink the drink himself but when a coffee shop employee wrote down his order with a trembling hand, a boy appeared in the door.
This boy, now almost a young man, he was from his memories. Another coffee was automatically added to the order.
On his way out, Talon walked up to the sleeping chick and gave a cup to him. Even without opening his eyes, the bat’s cub sniffed and sucked the drink. Dick chirped with delight and patted boy's head, ignoring the frozen people.
That's a true magic drink which is commanding the minds of the powerful of this world. Yes, it will help them for sure!
~~~~
Danny: See, Jazz, Dick’s making progress! He went to the coffee shop today. That’s great, isn’t it?
Jazz: First, don’t call him that, we’re still not sure that’s his name and not the way Owls used to insult him.
Danny: Hey, the fact that he hissed when you called him Richard proves nothing. I don’t like being called Daniel either, or, over my dead body, Dan. I have to call him something. They’re all Talons. What are your suggestions? Jazz: We’ll talk about this later. Now back to the coffee question. Danny, did you forget anything when you let Talon go for a walk? Danny: Which one? Jazz: Don’t play dumb! Did you open the news headlines today or not? This is serious! Danny: What? Shit...civilian clothes. I didn’t think he’d wear a combat suit for it. Jazz: Didn’t you give them outfits for everyday use? Danny: Yeah, I did! But they still wear their Halloween outfits. All the time. Look, it’s not my fault they take everything I say as an order. When I asked them to make the tea and our teapot broke, they broke into some guy’s house and stole it. Jazz: Which guy? Did you at least apologize? Danny: One of Hood’s goons. I’m pretty sure he’s already met Dick on patrol, 'cause the first thing he did called Jason and start crying about being followed. Lucky for him Red was at my house that night and went to calm goon down. But I swear to you, Dick was a little shit on purpose. Of all the apartments choose his? Nah, such coincidences do not exist.
Jazz: I could be happy that he’s getting more independent in his decision making but now I feel like I have to offer the poor guy a discount therapy course.
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Damian: Drake, we need to talk. I know about your investigation. You suspect one of the Talons is our missing Grayson. I’m willing to provide some evidence in exchange for… Tim: I don’t suspect, I know that. Damian: What? Where from? Tim: Well, the quadruple somersault was a good hint. And the fact that the Red Hood ran from him through the streets screaming that he wouldn’t take lunch from a damn golden child is also a tip. Damian:...Not a word to my father until we know more, right? I don’t want my older brother thrown in Arkham. Tim: Agree. It’s not like he doesn’t have a memory problem. He wouldn’t have made Alfred worried if leaving was his choice. We need more information.
Meanwhile in Gotham, Alfred aka the only one batfam member with more than one functioning brain cell *on his way to his first grandson and future husband of his sweet angel Jason*.
Danny: Jazz, we need to clean this house right now. Jazz: Since when do you start spring cleaning? Danny: I don’t know how to explain, it’s not a ghost sense, it’s more an unexplained sense of danger. Where’s the vacuum cleaner?
~~~~~
Talon №5 stood in the knitting shop in thought. What color would the little mistress prefer? It should remain useful even if the Owl does not give them direct orders. Knitting a cute sweater for mistress Dani would be a good start. Yeah, that color’s gonna be perfect. And maybe it should stop holding those needles like a weapon, it makes the cashier nervous, and he wants to pay without saving a civilian from losing consciousness.
~~~~~
Danny became a little alarmed when Talon threw himself at the old man standing on the porch. To his surprise, the Briton readily embraced the bird, and Dick let him. Talons who stood behind Danny happily chirped. Making their youngest member happy things always meant something good.
Alfred: Gentlemen, good afternoon. I guess I should thank you all for taking care of my dear grandson. Would you let me come in for a cup of tea?
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syrupfog · 3 months
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Modern au where Sanji, adopted off the streets by Zeff when he was ten, spent eight years convinced that when he turns eighteen Zeff is going to throw him out, say that he served his time and he wants Sanji gone. 
Then that doesn’t HAPPEN, and Sanji is afraid to ever bring it up.
He goes off to university expecting that when winter break comes he won’t have a bed to return to, and that makes him a little… erratic. Throwing himself into his classes to keep his scholarship but also working overtime to get money to afford a place to stay when he’s on break and in the summers, and overall just completely neglects human connection because he’s convinced he’s on his own. 
It’s probably a miracle Luffy finds him and forces friendship onto him, bringing his friends into Sanji’s space (His dorm roommate Gin dropped out in the first week so Sanji’s REALLY been alone). 
And with Luffy comes his asshole friend Zoro, who Sanji learns is ALSO adopted and he RESENTS him for it. Because Zoro is perfectly secure in his relationship with Mihawk— probably because he was adopted at such a young age. 
But Sanji doesn’t feel that security. He knows he’s beyond lucky to have been picked up by Zeff at all, knows he can’t keep asking for free handouts from him. It would be more than enough to be hired at the Baratie someday.
But Luffy pushes into his life and pushes Zoro in along with him, and one day manages to drag Sanji to an Actual Party after his shift in the canteen is done, and get him properly drunk for the first time maybe ever. 
Sanji is an angry AND weepy drunk.
He tries to fight Zoro (who can hold his alcohol just fine) then ends up collapsing on him in tears, yelling that it’s not FAIR that Zoro has everything he wants. Zoro assumes this means his three swords. He tells Sanji he’s not sharing.
Sanji sobs that his dad is going up abandon him, has probably already thrown his shit to the kerb. 
Zoro, in an oddly selfless (to Sanji’s eyes) act, says that Sanji’s old man can shove it, and if he’s really like that then he’s an asshole who doesn’t deserve Sanji anyway.
Then he says Sanji can come home with HIM for winter break. Perona always brings guests (boyfriends) home on holidays. 
And as drunk as Sanji is at the time, it’s a surprise he remembers it the next morning. 
But he does. 
And he had said yes, so… he can’t just back out now.
(Plus, free accommodations? Sanji’s meals right now are what he can sneak from the canteen while he works, he’s saving as much as possible to afford a place this summer without a co-signer)
So winter break comes and Sanji doesn’t even try to contact Zeff, just goes off with Zoro. It’s a little awkward but arguing with Zoro is almost relaxing at this point, familiar. And Perona is… well, all women are perfect. 
And then, and THEN—
He gets a call from Zeff. 
And Zeff is fucking PISSED at him. 
Because what does he MEAN he’s not coming home for winter hols? He didn’t even CALL TO SAY SO. WHAT THE HELL, EGGPLANT? 
And Sanji’s there in the Mihawk living room with his dad yelling loud enough for Zoro to hear and he yells back WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, OLD MAN? Because “I turned eighteen! I’m an adult! You don’t need to pretend to care about me anymore!” 
(Zoro isn’t even pretending not to listen, he’s staring) 
And Zeff yells that Sanji is “a pile of horse shit” and “of course I fucking care you shitty little dumbass, you think I’d just kick you out after going through hell to get you?” 
And Sanji’s in shock because he— he really thought— 
“What,” Zeff continues (he might as well be on speakerphone he’s so loud). He says, “you think that little of me, you shitty kid?” 
And Sanji says, “it’s not THAT, you’ve given me too damn much already! I don’t deserve all this shitty charity!” 
And that sets Zeff off about how it’s not charity when it’s his OWN KID
anyway. He yells a long time. Sanji sits there and takes it and does not make eye contact with Zoro until after he’s finally hung up. 
When he finally does, he says, “I guess I should go.” 
“What?” asks Zoro. “Why?” 
“I got you to invite me over out of pity when I apparently had a dad this whole time.” 
He’s so fucking embarrassed that Zoro heard all of that. 
Zoro rolls his eyes. “Fucking hell, Curly, I didn’t invite you over because I felt sorry for you.” 
Sanji squints. “Why the fuck else would you have?” He asks.
“I did it because I fucking like you and didn’t want you to be miserable. Also because Mihawk is always on my case about bringing home a boyfriend, he’s tired of meeting Perona’s weekly boy toys.” 
Sanji squints harder. “I’m not your boyfriend,” he says.
Zoro grins. “Not YET,” he says. 
Sanji feels incensed. “You can’t just—” 
Jumping to his feet, Zoro draws his swords from behind the sofa. “If I win this fight, you’re my boyfriend.” 
“Fucking DEAL,” Sanji says, clambering up out of his chair. “When I win, you’re going to have to ASK me on an ACTUAL DATE, FIRST.” 
The fight is a draw. 
They spend the rest of break arguing about how to start dating. 
Without the weight of the impending loss of the only family he’s known, Sanji spends spring classes more relaxed, happier, willing to give in to Luffy’s every whim (and he has many). 
Sanji goes home to Zeff in the spring, and he brings Zoro.
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sepublic · 1 year
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Thinking of how the Titan showed Luz the first glyph, Light, because she was kind to his son and listened to him, made him feel like his interests mattered when so many others overlooked the little guy and didn’t care about people like him. He didn’t force Luz to painstakingly find it on her own, as Philip did; The Titan freely gave this to her.
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Then the second glyph, Ice, comes when Luz takes the moment to listen to the Titan; To say that she’ll learn on his terms, she’ll respect his body and work with him. Luz paid attention to the unheard son, and now the parent, speaking with and not for him as Philip did.
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She gets the Plant glyph afterwards by continuing to follow that principle and give his son fun and company...
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And the final glyph, Fire? Wing it like Witches is a major epiphany for Luz’s development, where it really hits her that she can’t drag her friends around in her attempts to play out certain beloved tropes and story beats she grew up on; In particular, this episode was about her desire to be the underdog hero, dragging Willow into relatively high-stakes consequences for a Grudgby match she did not ask for.
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Sound familiar? I wonder if the Titan was low key afraid of Luz following in Philip’s steps, recognized that similar hero complex... Even if Luz was nowhere near as evil as Belos, well. Philip started off from somewhere, he didn’t begin as a genocidal dictator with countless sins to his name, he built his way up. Maybe the Titan is just being paranoid, Luz is so young after all! But in the end, he hid one final glyph from Philip because of his need for control, and it was admittedly Luz who jeopardized this precaution by giving Philip the Light spell.
Yet in Wing it like Witches, Luz really matures when she steps up and takes responsibility for her recklessness, for subsuming Willow’s problem and low key making it about herself, and what she decides for the group. Luz takes the full consequences of the stakes she set up so neither Willow nor Gus have to, and it’s this mature gesture of self-awareness that prompts them to reciprocate and forgive Luz.
So I wonder if THAT moment was what solidified to the Titan that yes, I really can trust this child. This human, the first after centuries of another who has been desecrating my corpse, bastardizing my name; She truly didn’t know any better, and meant well, teaching Philip the Titan’s last glyph. The first few glyphs were like little gifts, but giving Luz the last one meant she had full access to all of the Titan’s magic, so long as she experimented with glyph combos. And the Titan felt safe to entrust her with something he barred from Philip, because why?
Because Luz got over that fatal flaw of Philip’s; The desire to be the hero at any cost. That proved she wouldn’t follow in his footsteps, she diverged at a crucial point, and it meant she’d never become another Belos. They both worked and studied for the glyphs, but what mattered was the compassion that Luz had, and it was her kindness that began her discovery of glyphs. The Titan could trust his final glyph to her, Fire... But as he’d find out, it wasn’t even his final gift to Luz, either.
There really is this recurring arc of hesitancy from the Titan; Someone who was used, betrayed, and taken advantage of. And knew how easy it was for the same to happen to his son. So to see the little ways in which he opens up, recognizes Luz’s kindness and maturity and responds to each step in her growth... It’s like someone learning to trust again, realizing they’ve really found a friend after all. It’s no wonder Luz is treated like an old friend by the Titan, because she is one, and it makes his final gift and farewell to her all the more impactful.
On a lighter note! I’m just imagining the Titan figuring out how to show Luz the Fire glyph, after deciding he’ll do just that. I keep thinking of him watching Luz in the Grudgby game, cheering her on and giving Luz support by illuminating his last glyph in Boscha’s fire; “Here kid, take this!” It’s such a relatively casual and silly moment too, because the Titan isn’t obsessed with the theatrics and drama of godhood.
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rxzennia · 2 months
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don't you worry child
– tales of the voracity pathstrider
✎𓂃 so like i lied and now here’s something not on my wip list. remember the theme park scene with three aventurines? this is loosely based on that. young kakavasha calls you mister like twice but that’s cause you’re looming tall. i wish i could yap about more exploring the map, but it’s already way too long :( would’ve speedran this fic but i was trying to beat divergent v (spoiler alert, i’m still trying)
“for in every adult there dwells the child that was, and in every child there lies the adult that will be.” 
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when aventurine showed you the dream bubble made of his memories, he wasn’t expecting to bare his inner child to you. he thought it’d be some of his earlier days at the ipc, some of his conquests and schemes, or maybe some of his glorious wins at the casino, not what he has buried for so long – and definitely not something he’s tried so hard to deny for so long. sure, he will tell you eventually, but not now. not yet, not when he’s barely ready. 
and yet here you are, face to face with a child whose height barely reaches your hips. alone. aventurine said he’d be here with you, but where the hell is he?
you agreed to give your boyfriend’s(?) dream bubble a try, but where are you?
no one’s confessed but there are already rumors in the office so like tentatively dating, you suppose
and who is this small human in front of you?
you adjust your scarf, pulling it a little higher as you stare at the boy
he stares back at you
you try to not glare at him, but for all you know, you might still be glaring anyway
a few minutes pass, and the child blinks at you
he lifts one hand up, look at his feet then back at you, then he tiptoes
"you’re so tall, mister!" 
you look around for anyone else. there’s no one else.
"me?" you point at yourself
you’re not good with kids, you don’t know if you should bother engaging him, but hey, he’s just a kid
no reason to ignore him or tell him to leave you alone
if anything, him being all the way out here in the unregulated areas of the theme park means you should do something about it
maybe you should bring him back to the main area?
"yes, you, mister!" the child nods enthusiastically. "woah, you’re so big! can you come down a little?"
first off, that’s what she said. second, and more importantly, how is he not remotely intimidated by your presence? you’re a pretty towering figure even by your own standards, and you don’t exactly have a friendly face, so the fact that a kid of all people started talking to you…
but the more you look at him, the more you feel a sense of deja vu. his face reminds you of someone you know, but his demeanor is, like, the furthest thing away from that person.
you can’t really say no to him, so you crouch down slowly
you don’t know how to interact with him, but you can at least satisfy his curiosity
"like this?" you’re now a head and a half taller than him. somehow, he takes this as a sign to approach
"child, has no one taught you to not talk to strangers?" 
he gasps, like he suddenly remembered everything his parents warned him to not do, and he lowers his head like he’s just done something bad
"b-but you don’t seem like a bad person!" he bursts out, clumsily fiddling with his fingers. "you, you don’t give me the same feeling bad people do…"
"you should still be careful." you sigh as you adjust your scarf so it’s not touching the ground. "well, that aside. i’m down here now. can i help you?"
you watch as they kid slowly walk up to you, the curiosity shining in his eyes
you didn’t deny his claims! that means you’re a good person!
you’re mildly fascinated by the delicate little human
"i’m looking for someone," he says, finally looking up at you again, "t-then i have to go home… but i’m a little lost…"
is this what the world has come to? a kid asking you for help? in a dream bubble of all things?
though you did agree to experiencing the whole thing, so you should probably play along
"alright." you nod. "how should i call you?"
the child brightens up when you agree to help, and he almost reaches for your hands before he remembered personal space
"umm," he starts, keeping his hands awkwardly half-raised, "my name is kakavasha. mister, what about you?"
"kakavasha, hm?" you say, and you offer him one hand. you briefly wonder if it’s okay to tell dream kakavasha your name – this doesn’t seem like a typical dream bubble and all – but worst comes to worst, you’ll just force your way out.
so you tell the child your name, and you feel an overwhelming sense of adoration when he gingerly tries to repeat the syllables that you’ve just said.
dragon hoarding treasure moment intensifies
this kid is going to grow up into the man you know today? absolutely crazy
you’re kind of spacing out as you try to reconcile the kid in front of you with your boss
and while you’re doing that, you vaguely hear him repeating your name over and over again
"yes, that’s close enough." you finally interrupt his attempts to perfect his pronunciation. "where to, kakavasha?"
you stand up, and holy shit you’re so much taller than him
you briefly wonder if you can even hear him from all the way up there…
you can. you hear him crisp and clear. 
maybe a little too clear
he’s loud.
"can i lead the way?" he asks, as if you’d say no to him (???)
he grabs onto your hand without any reservations and he starts to drag you off
what do you do??? no human interaction has prepared you for children??? because no kid wanted to approach you like ever???
you’re taken so much by surprise that you kind of just… froze up
cue him trying to tug you somewhere but failing miserably
he tries with both hands, but you still wouldn’t budge
super confused
he tries harder
still nothing??? just how big is this big person???
"oh, sorry." you snap back to your senses, and you let him pull you to wherever he wants
after a few turns, pinball machines, and an entire maze later, you find yourself at the central stage, where aventurine did his grandest closing act. you can still see the slash of nihility, but it doesn’t seem that anyone else can see it. perhaps a distortion in the dream bubble itself?
kakavasha takes you straight to the center, right at where the slashed monitor sits.
this whole thing hasn’t sat well with you since you touched that bloody dream bubble
where the fuck is aventurine?
who is kakavasha trying to find?
why would they be here?
unless…
you come to a stop when kakavasha stops to look around. 
"oh, mister’s not here anymore." he whispers, lowering his eyes and fiddling with his fingers, "of course he wouldn’t be waiting…"
you slowly walk up by his side. "who exactly are we looking for? i don’t think you’ve ever told me."
"oh!" kakavasha gasps, "oh." he sputters a little, and he points to the stage. "i ran into a really cool mister earlier, and apparently he’s an actor!" 
now you know who he’s talking about
is this dr edward’s experimental model or something? it’s rare to see memoria taking such form
not that you understand memoria
did aventurine give you this dream bubble knowing this will happen?
so when he said he’d be around, did he mean…?
did he literally regress for this???? what is this, the most fantasy novel to have ever fantasized?
or is he watching you like some guy watching a playthrough of a rpg?
or is this entire thing a bug? because you thought you still have a few years to go before aventurine would even think of letting you so far into his mind
you sigh, it’s all far too complicated for you to think about
you’ll focus on the kid for now
"i see," you reply. you didn’t want to give such a dry response, but what are you even supposed to say? 
"but he seemed a little sad…" kakavasha mumbles, "i was hoping to catch him after his show…"
you’re slightly tempted to say "well you just missed him", but your brain is telling you to not do it
fine, you’ll hold your tongue :(
you watch as the child run around
you give him a few ten minutes before you crouch and open one arm for him
"come on," you sigh, "we’ll be here all day."
kakavasha looks at you, at your unreadable eyes, then your arm, then he tentatively slots himself into your side.
"woah, you’re so tall!" he exclaims when you slowly stand up with him on your shoulder. "i’m so high up! hehe!"
"i know, you’ve said that already," you deadpan
for how unfriendly you are, you sure aren’t hiding your worries well
your other arm has been hovering in front of the boy since the moment you stood up
and you’ve been careful with keeping your arm steady while you walk
"you see him?" 
"no…" comes kakavasha’s downtrodden reply. "i don’t have much time left, papa and mama will be worried if i don’t go home soon…"
you play along, wandering around for kakavasha to look for his adult self. "that’s a shame."
he turns to stare at you
you sound like you don’t give too much of a shit
but he can see that you’re a gentle person at heart
why else would you follow him around, hold his hand, and now lift him up so he can get a better view?
and you’ve also made sure that no monsters could get him
he makes a sad noise when you end up right in front of the monitor
you wonder if he could also see the slash of nihility, or if he intuitively sensed something
he taps your shoulder, a series of quick, feather-light pokes
"down?" you ask, but you’re already lowering kakavasha back onto the ground.
he approaches the broken monitor. "mister… did his show go well?" he grasps your hand tightly. "it was a great success, wasn’t it?"
you feel for the child, you really do. but this is a dream, an illusion where your actions won’t make any actual difference. you want to wrap him up and coddle him, but in the end, that will change nothing. 
"that it was." you nod, and you envelop his way smaller hands in your own. "the greatest success anyone’s ever seen."
somehow, your heart hurts when he breaks into a smile
"i’m glad." he says, like a weight’s been lifted off his chest
he probably already knows what happened
he knows himself best, after all
it’s not like you expect the child in front of you to be able to see through aventurine’s act
but they’re one in the same
that reckless abandon and affinity to games of chance didn’t come out of nowhere
you’re fairly certain he has his own guesses as to what happened to that "mister"
"do you know where the really cool mister is now?" kakavasha asks, looking at you with the most innocent gaze you’ve ever seen. "is he doing well?"
you can’t help but hear the subtext in his words, and you let out a soft snort. 
it’s such a "him" thing to do.
"i don’t know," you answer honestly, for you really don’t know. "but what i am certain of… is that he is not doing too badly."
you take note of the portal that slowly appeared in the middle of the stage. a picture frame, a crack, and hands prying that crack right open. 
you look into the distance, past the slash, past penacony, into the stars
"he’s alive," you say, "he’s living. will live."
you snap yourself out of your trance and look at the child next to you
"i’ll look after him, don’t worry."
you hope those words could be some sort of reassurance to him
"promise?" he offers you a pinky. "pinky promise?"
that’s cute
a quick image of others seeing you making a pinky promise flashes before your eyes
but what’s more important than the present?
"pinky promise." you hook your pinky with his. "i’ll make sure the really cool mister lives well."
kakavasha finally notices the portal, and he realizes it’s time to go home. he’s stayed out for too long, and now his family wants him home.
wherever home is to him, anyway
how do you even go home through a portal in a dream bubble
ever considered that maybe it’s better if you didn’t question everything
you let him drag you towards the portal
he doesn’t want to say goodbye to you quite yet
he’s pretty interested in this tall, scary person who isn’t actually scary at all
and he really wants to become friends with you (more like spend more time with you)
but he really needs to go, before his parents start to worry
you understand, of course you do, with how he’s fidgeting and glancing between you and the portal
and the face of a kid who’s just been told their playtime is over
so you nudge him a little, hoping that it’ll prompt him to go
are you surprised when it doesn’t work? not really? me neither
he refuses to let go of your hand
like legit just does not, even if both he and you know he has to
what can you do in such a scenario???
nothing’s prepared you for a silent tantrum
can you even call it a tantrum??? 
quick, come up with something!
alas, it doesn’t feel right to simply wave and part ways
"young kakavasha." you kneel down and unwrap your scarf from your neck. "take this with you," you say as you wrap the fabric around him, paying the strange feeling of exposing your scales no mind. you open your mouth to elaborate, but your words die in your throat. 
kakavasha looks at you; he doesn't need to crane his neck for once, and he flinches from the foreign feeling of your fingers ghosting ever so slightly against his face. for how much you’ve taken care of him while he wandered around the theme park, you’re still only a really kind stranger. nowhere close enough to be giving each other gifts.
"it gets cold at night," you say, finally cracking a tiny smile for the child before you, your hand landing on top of his head gently. "you’ll at least be warmer this way."
you watch kakavasha’s bewildered expression as he touches his new scarf, feeling the smooth fabric and how oddly chunky it feels looped around him. it isn’t a bad feeling, not at all. it’s more like a big hug, the sort that scares away the monster under the bed and wards off nightmares.
"thank you…" he mumbles, still dazed and taken by the new addition to his limited wardrobe. he lifts his face to look at you, taking note of your iridescent scales and your soft gaze. he beams, a grin so bright that it ignites even your inhuman heart. "i’ll treasure this! it feels so nice… thank you so much!"
"mm. go on, now." you nod, and you nudge him towards the portal. "don’t keep your family waiting."
kakavasha blinks at you. "you’re not coming?" he asks, tilting his head to the side innocently. 
"unfortunately." you beckon him forward and give him a small kiss on the top of his head before you stand up fully. "if fate shall have it, though… i suppose we will meet again."
"sis has always said that i’m blessed with fortune!" kakavasha almost jumps to grab onto you, but he just misses your shoulders by a hair. "see you next time!"
he spends a good minute waving at you before he turns around to leave. somehow… you feel an overwhelming sense of sadness. an inexplicable wave of melancholy washes over you like frigid waves on a windy day, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
you watch the child until he disappears into the frame, and you don’t look away for another minute.
"see you, kakavasha."
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grimm-writings · 6 months
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Hiiii, I would like some Dungeon Meshi headcanons please! Reader is the oldest human in the main group and they're really motherly towards them. Like they're always fretting over their well beings and acting like a doting parent. And if you want, could you also add that Chilchuck's kinda into that so he falls for them?
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That's all thank you!
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…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader, platonic touden party & reader
…tags! fluff, some crack, headcanon format, mild manga spoilers, reader is referred to as ‘mom’ once
…wc! 847
…notes! the way i nearly screeched in delight when i got this ask. chilfuckers i’m one of you let me in. you used they/them for the reader so i’m gonna assume this is a maternal gn reader! i hope it is for your liking ty for being my first request 🥺
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Having a more wise, of age individual in the party is always a plus when you need some advice.
And when most people in the party are absolute lunatics.
You have your hands full trying to stop Laios acting recklessly in action, or doting on Marcille when her emotions get the best of her.  Goodness, even Senshi has your hair going grey from how he gets sometimes!
Laios just sort of… lets your doting happen.
He can get slightly grumbly if you get too mad at him.  Still, it’s not the worst thing a parental figure could do.  Go easy on him!
Marcille takes psychic damage upon learning your age.  She’s staring at you, at the age in your face, and taking the years into account.
It’s simply not computing.  You… You should be, like, a pre-teen or something!  Human ageing baffles her once again.
Still… she is incredibly receptive to you doting on her.  She’s more of a carer on instinct but she finds herself falling into you whenever her spoons are low.
Senshi just sort of hits you with the “why tho” when you try fretting.  It’s actually slightly frustrating.  Still, you can recognise his wisdom and take a step back.  He can take care of himself… most of the time.
Izutsumi… oh the dear girl.
You must have recognised the signs immediately.  Her lack of table manners, her reclusive nature… she’s so young.
The girlcat was a bit prickly to any doting at first.  You would probably remind her a bit too much of Maizuru for her liking.
With time, perhaps sometime after he run-in with her succubus, Izutsumi would be a bit more welcoming of how you treat her.  It’s… It makes her feel nice, or whatever.
She accidentally calls you Mom once.  She was mortified as Marcille squeals in delight and Laios laughs to himself.  You couldn’t even ask if she thinks of you as a mother figure before she’s already stomping away to hide in a corner somewhere.
Then there’s Chilchuck.  Oh, what to say about him.
You probably thought he was a young human at first too.  He’s taller than other half-foots after all.  Still, as soon as you even try to act maternal around him, he yells at you and tells you he isn’t a kid.
Keep your distance for a bit, and he’ll warm up to you again.
Watching you do your thing with the other party members will have him commenting that he has no idea how you can just keep up with everyone like this, and he’s the one with three kids here.
You just smile gently and reply that it helps you keep stability knowing everyone in the party is doing alright.  At that, Chilchuck will give you a glance, and internalise your words.
Upon Izutsumi’s arrival into the party, Chilchuck’s perspective on you begins to alter slightly.
Initially, he respected you a fair bit.  You were more like the two older co-workers constantly giving each other looks at the younger ones’ antics.
But he sees you with this child he also has to admit he’s grown attached to.  You really were a natural maternal figure to Izutsumi.  He watches you tend to her sometimes, a smile slowly curling on his lips.
Then he catches himself, and his blood runs cold.
…Ohhh, shit. 
Chilchuck is level headed most of the time, but when he’s panicking he can’t keep his cool to save his life.
Around you, he becomes more… frantic, in a way.  Lecturing others to give you a break, even if he can just have a small talk with you.  If asked what’s up he’d raise his voice defensively and say it doesn’t matter.
One time, Izutsumi decided she can’t choose between her two favourite human heaters, and practically forced you and Chilchuck to sleep on either side of her.  Even with the girl slotted in between you two, Chilchuck was internally losing his mind at the closeness.
He even lets you dote on him a bit more again.  Not too much, though.  He’ll accept the occasional checking in and headpat but that’s it!
You can very easily pick up on his feelings for you.  It’s not hard to notice the shift in his attitude.
Well… It’s not like you can complain.  You may offer to help him out with his future shop once you’re out of here, giving him a slight wink.
Cherish how red his face gets.  He won’t let anyone else embarrass him so easily.  Maybe pinch his cheeks if you’re feeling brave, but he may swat you away depending on his mood.
At the end of the day, he’ll give you a small smile, and wonder aloud where the Hell all the party would be if it weren’t for you.
(Bonus!  I think Falin would also super appreciate your presence.  She’s the kind to simply take her own parents’ treatment of her and shrug it off in a ‘it is what it is’ sort of way.  Your doting attitude would leave her slightly discombobulated, but she’s very welcome to it.)
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tacticalprincess · 6 months
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cw: angst, emotional manipulation, dry humping until completion
being the poor little hostage könig is in charge of looking after… he feels annoyed and helpless, listening to you sob for hours. he’s sympathetic; he can see how cohabitating with someone of his caliber might be distressing after what you’ve gone through. even after years of experience he still isn’t quite sure how to deal with this part of his job— the emotion and human interaction part. he avoids making direct eye contact with you and speaks to you as little as possible, figuring you just need space to process. little does he know that everything he does, down to the way his eyes shift uncomfortably in his hood, makes you feel even worse, self conscious and isolated, just like you’d felt when you were kidnapped. you longed to be close to the man that saved you from the situation you thought you wouldn’t make it out alive from, and the rejection you felt from him was only making the crave worse. you’d do anything to get his attention…
he returns back to your guys’ temporary hideaway to find you in the same spot he left you, curled up in the corner of the bed. his heart hurts at the image you make. he stands awkwardly in the middle of the room holding a paper bag. "i brought food and… more tissues."
you break down at the sound of his voice, the first voice that hasn’t evoked a deep sense of dread and fear into you in weeks. you can’t see through the fog of tears in your eyes, but you hear the sound of heavy footsteps inching toward you, the crinkling of the bag being set on the creaky wooden table. a large, tentative hand is placed on your shoulder, and you can’t help but lean into the touch you’ve been craving.
“don’t… don’t leave again.” you plead brokenly.
“okay…” könig sounds startled. “what do i…?”
“can you just sit with me? hold me?”
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he hasn’t held anyone the way he holds you since before he can remember. it’s hesitant and stiff at first, you leaning up against his broad chest, his strong arms wrapped gingerly around you. he softens up the longer you sit there, your face buried in his neck as your crying turns into sniffling, and eventually his warm embrace feels indistinguishable from that of someone you’ve known forever— a lover, even. he just makes you feel so safe and protected. it’s not your fault that your confused, touch-starved brain reads the situation as something that it’s not.
könig’s supposed to be the clear headed one. he should stop you when you start crawling further on top of him, he shouldn’t let you sit yourself in his lap. it’s inappropriate and he knows it, only a sick man would take advantage of a young girl in such a vulnerable state. but it’s not like he isn’t also in dire need of physical affection. if he just sits back and lets you take what you need from him to be comfortable, he isn’t doing anything wrong. right?
“i’ve been so scared, so lonely.” you reason with him as your hands feel around his broad biceps through his tactical gear. the more you discover about him, the more your admiration for him grows. your breathing has turned heavy, the warmth of könig’s body paired with the feeling of having a man so close to you for reasons that aren’t to hurt you, has your cunt aching between your thighs. you’re so screwed up. “i never thanked you for saving me.”
“it’s my job.” you can hear that he’s effected too, his accent thick and deep and strained underneath his mask. you bite your lip at the sound, your little hips growing a mind of their own as they start to rut against his crotch. the sensation of your sweet heat rubbing snugly against his is enough to lower any inhibitions könig has left. fuck, he hasn’t felt anything like it in so long. “we shouldn’t–”
“it’s your job to take care of me.” hot tears start to well up in your eyes at the mere thought of stopping. you lock your arms together behind könig’s head, clamping your thighs tighter around him so he has no choice but to let you continue. “please, i need this, sir. i know you want it too.”
he could easily fight you back if he wanted to. he’s much bigger, much stronger… but he doesn’t. his hands find your hips, and you make eye contact for the first time since he rescued you, only now his eyelids are heavy with desire. he’s just as desperate as you. you got what you wanted, his full attention on you. he uses his strength to guide your movements until what youre doing can’t be described as anything else but riding his clothed erection, the friction against your sensitive clit all too much for you too quickly.
you grind against him to the point of overstimulation, too fucked-out to decide wether you want to pull him closer or push him away. he ends up deciding for you, though, hugging you until you’re pressed chest to chest, succumbing to desire. you can feel the way his bigger body dwarfs yours as you use each other to get off. tears stain your soft, flushed cheeks as you cum, pushed over the edge by the sounds of his low pants and grunts, his pulsing cock underneath you. warm with the knowledge that you made him feel as good as you. you thanked him properly.
“i’m here, engelchen. ride it out.”
the feeling of you convulsing on his dick is enough to milk könig’s orgasm out of him soon after, dirtying his pants with hot, thick cum. he strokes your head and whispers soothing words in your ear, and it’s not until you’re fast asleep on his lap that the gravity of what he’d done settles in, shame washing over him in waves…
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hypnos333 · 7 months
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More than Anything
Lucifer x Adapted daughter! Reader
Synopsis: You were just a baby with weird shapes on your cheek and having no one Lucifer took you in while depressed until it got really bad so Charlie and Vaggie started taking care of you
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You played with your dolls as Charlie was playing with you. It’s been 1 years since the last time you saw your dad and yet you don’t know him. When you were first taken away you couldn’t eat anything at all until Charlie started to actually pay attention to you to the point where she knows every detail.
Charlie was happy to take you in as a sister but was disappointed at her dad for leaving such a young now two year old without a parental guidance. Charlie had her mom but who do you have?
She watched you sucking on you pacifier while characterizing the doll with innocence. It was no surprise that you were a hellborn because your cheeks gave it away. No human has the power that you have.
“Come little baby let go get you a warm bottle of milk and some lunch” Charlie exclaimed before picking you up as you clinged to her.
For a two year old you so small and adorable.
When Charlie reach the kitchen Husk was already in there grabbing an apple sauce before putting it in front of you. “Do you want me to feed her Charlie?” Husk mumbles as he gets a baby spoon to feed you in.
“Oh! Thank you Husk this helps so I can make her mil-“I always made her milk it’s in the microwave” Husk interrupt her that’s when the Microwave made a sound meaning it was done.
Husk airplane feed you the apple sauce as you played with his paws, he didn’t mind because he grown attached to you.
“Husk do you mind watching ___? I have to do business around the hotel” Charlie asked making Husk instantly agree. “Yeah I can definitely watch this kit” Husk said making Charlie tell him your schedule before kissing your forehead on the way out.
“Well it’s just you and me munchkin” He mumbles as you were sucking your bottle with the milk in it. He gently lift you up carrying you to the lobby.
He laid you down the couch, on your back as you continued to drinking the warm milk. As you fell asleep drinking the bottle. As you did Husk brought up a pacifier to your lips and automatically sucked on the pacifier.
Husk chuckles before making a pile of blankets so you don’t roll over and fall on the couch.
Hours later
Lucifer came in when Charlie called him, And when Lucifer saw his sleeping child being carried by Angel dust as rocked side by side so you can stay sleeping.
“C-Can I hold her?” He asked Charlie making her nod as she smiled uncontrollably. Angel dust gently put you in Lucifer’s arms making you squirm and slowly open your eyes.
“Hi Baby Angel, I’m your papa” Lucifer said gently and he rubbed your back. You looked at him tiredly and curiosity.
“Papa?” You mumbled
“Yeah I’m your papa” Lucifer chuckled with tears in his eyes as he put his forehead against yours as you giggle putting your hands on his cheeks as he does this. He can’t believe how much you grown as he cried in Joy finally getting to raise you properly Lucifer pulled charlie into a hug with you and him.
“I love you both more than anything” He whispered to you both.
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flemingsfreckles · 4 months
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Grandkids
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Jessie Fleming x Reader (parent fic)
Synopsis: You and Jessie catch wind that your teenage daughter might have a boyfriend. Jessie loses her mind over it.
Warnings: discussions of sex, bird and the bees type conversation
WC: 1.7k
A/N: literally no one asked for this but I’m struggling to write. This is just another short blurb that got written because I had a single thought about Jessie being a mom to teenagers and having to give her kids the birds and the bees talk.
When your children had gotten home from school that day, you and Jessie were in the office, organizing old documents. The office was just located off the kitchen where your two children had walked through the door.
Your youngest child, Riley was already interrogating at his older sister. “So what is he your boyfriend now, are you guys all gross and in love?” You paused what you were doing, listening further into the conversation.
“Stop Riley.”
“Amelia and Nick sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Your younger one continues to taunt his sister
“Ughhh, shut up!” Your daughter's voice begins to fade, you assume she’s walking out of the room and away from the teasing that’s going on.
“Where are you going? To call your boyfriend?” You hear Riley call after her followed shortly by the slamming of a bedroom door. Normally the door slamming would be immediate grounds for either you or Jessie to go talk with your daughter. However you and your wife both remained frozen in the office.
You hear your son grab something from the fridge and make his way to his own room before closing the door.
When you heard his bedroom door close Jessie started speaking. “Did he just say her boyfriend?”
“I think so? I don’t know?” You shrug at your wife before turning to put more papers away, no longer being distracted by the conversation between your teenagers.
“Why are you fine with this?” Jessie now standing, no longer caring to organize and shred paper. Clearly Jessie was not taking the new information well.
“Fine with what?” You look at Jessie, taking the papers in her hands to finish filing them away.
“Our daughter having a boyfriend.” She says as if it’s the most obvious answer.
“Oh right, I’m sorry, she didn’t turn out gay like us, we tried our best.” You feel the smile creeping across your face. “Maybe we should’ve let her play softball and dressed her in more flannels as a little kid.”
“Can you take something seriously for once?!” Jessie was usually a fan of your humor but it appeared that today was not the day for it. She was clearly upset.
“Jessie, first of all, Riley is 15 he might not actually know what he’s talking about, he might’ve just overheard some school gossip. Second of all, Amelia is 17, not 12, she can have a boyfriend.” You roll your eyes at your wife, seeing and hearing the panic that she was having.
“I thought we had agreed when she was born that she wasn’t allowed to date until she was 25!” Jessie was whispering yelling at you, not wanting to alert your children.
“That was a joke Jessie, I’m not controlling my kid’s romantic life until they’re 25!” You both had jokingly talked that you wouldn’t let anyone near her, she was your little girl, you both overbearing as brand new parents. You had forgotten about that, obviously realizing that she’s a human and will likely date before she’s 25.
“Well she can’t have a boyfriend.” She crosses her arms, staring at you like you’re the bad guy in this situation. You throw your arms out, not sure why Jessie is upset with you.
“She’s 17, it’s fine, we don’t even know if it’s actually a boyfriend.” You tried to reason with your wife but you could practically see the steam coming from her ears.
“She’s too young to have a boyfriend, she’s too young to be having sex!” Jessie whispers the word ‘sex’ as if just saying it was going to cause a teenage pregnancy somewhere in the world. “We cannot have grandkids yet!”
“Oh my god,” you start to laugh. “You’re fully losing it over this aren’t you?” You couldn’t believe Jessie’s dramatic jump from a potential boyfriend to your daughter giving you grandkids in a matter of seconds.
“I don’t know why you’re so okay with our daughter having sex with a boy we’ve never even met!” Jessie is wildly waving her hands, her face has a look of panic on it.
“Alright, sit, take a deep breath.” You push Jessie’s shoulders forcing her to put her weight up against the desk, half sitting on it. She takes a deep breath and you take one with her. You keep your hands on her shoulders, giving them a squeeze as you talk to her.
“We don’t know he’s her boyfriend. Let’s not jump to conclusions here. Amelia is a smart girl, you know that.” You take her hands in yours. “If she’s determined that now is the time she wants to start dating, I think we need to understand that that’s okay. We can talk with her about it. We’ll tell her our expectations, the expectations we have for her and whoever she wants to date. It’ll be fine.”
Jessie takes her hands from yours, crossing her arms over her chest, letting out a small huff. “But it’s not fine, I don’t trust him, I don’t think he has good intentions.”
“You’ve never met the kid, Jessie just because he’s a teenage boy, doesn’t mean he only wants sex from her.” You pause before you continue, knowing your wife would likely not be happy with the next few words you said. “And Jessie,” you grab her face making her look at you. “if she is dating this boy or dating anyone, and she’s curious about the physical intimacy that comes with that, I think that’s okay.”
“No its-” you hold up your hand to stop Jessie’s sentence.
“Let me finish. If she’s curious and has questions, I’d rather she feel comfortable coming to us than to the internet or her friends who don’t know and will give her terrible information. Yes, 17 is young, but she’s practically an adult Jessie. She’ll be off at school in a year, where she won’t have us to help her with these things.” You can practically see the rage building up in your wife’s face. “Now I'm not going to sit here and tell her to go have sex, but I'm not going to let our daughter be taught that sex is a sinful or scary thing, you know that. We’ve raised them to be open and honest about sex so far, we can’t become a sex-negative household now that she’s at that age where it might be a thought. We can talk with her, have an adult conversation. We’ll explain the emotional aspect that comes with it, we’ll make sure she understands all the aspects of what it means to have sex with someone. And that if,” you take a deep breath, “if she’s planning on, or has any interest in having sex, we’ll get her set with birth control or condoms, probably both.”
“She’s too young, putting her on birth control would be like offering to buy them a hotel room to do it.” You couldn’t believe Jessie’s behavior still, you thought your reasoning would’ve helped her opinion at least a little.
When you first learned you were having a girl, Jessie was admient that no one would go near your daughter until she was 30. But the two of you had done your best to raise your kids to be informed, you taught them about consent early, you taught them the anatomy of where babies come from, when your daughter turned 14, you and Jessie sat her down, giving her the full bird and the bees talk. You did most of the talking, Jessie was there but she looked just as mortified as your daughter did. You taught her sex wasn’t bad and sex wasn’t just for babies, it was for intimacy, connection, enjoyment, it was fun, it was a way to connect with another person, but that didn’t make it any less serious. Jessie had been on board before with these discussions, she didn’t always participate fully, but she was always there and you knew your daughter had gone to her to ask her some questions after to get clarification. But now that the reality of your daughter starting this part of her life was real, Jessie had done a 180.
“Jessie, she’s a teenager, teenagers have hormones. If she wants to have sex, it’s going to happen, teenagers find a way whether we like it or not. I’d rather her be having safe, informed, and protected sex, than unsafe sex in a boy’s mom’s car in a sketchy dark parking lot in the middle of nowhere just so they can avoid getting caught.”
You both sit in silence, Jessie looks at the ground and you look at her.
“I hate that you’re right.” She mumbles after a few minutes.
“I know.” You kiss her cheek with a smile. “Jessie” you grab your wife’s hand, your thumb rubbing over where her wedding band and engagement ring sat, “Let’s just go talk to her, that way we’re not sitting here guessing and making up scenarios. For all we know it’s not a boyfriend.”
“I just can’t believe she wouldn’t tell us. She’s our little girl, she used to tell us everything.” You can now see the sadness in Jessie’s eyes.
“I know, but our little girl is growing up, she’s a moody teenager now, she’s not going to want to share everything with us, and that’s okay.” You sit down next to Jessie, resting your head on her shoulder as you both stare at the door of the office.
“I want her to go back to being so little. I used to be able to hold her in one arm.”
“I know, they both used to be so little.” You and Jessie sat together, your head on her shoulder, reminiscing on the 17 years that seemed to have flown by. Thinking about how small their fingers used to be, how small their clothes were, how they’d babble at you, all of that gone, you now had two grown children.
“We did a pretty good job with them I think. They’re good people.”
“Yeah,” Jessie laughs, “just not to each other.”
“Well they’re siblings.” You respond back. You realize you’ll probably have to talk to your son too about his teasing. “Ready to go talk to her?” You ask Jessie.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to watch her grow up but I don’t think I have a choice.” Jessie says pushing herself off the desk. “Let’s go.”
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