#ooc: and. bat be upon he >:)

[lumenflowered]

putting this under a cut bc 1) its LONG, 2) there are open flames from fire attacks 3) bird. if either the latter two things apply to you Do Not Watch This ok? ok. coolio.

[A video file is attached. It begins with Maria crouched in front of a camera that appears to be propped up on the ground as a Gengar's hands adjust it. Eventually, Ade gives her a thumbs-up, Maria recalls her, and walks out to stand near the right side of the arena.

Silver already stands on the left, a Pokéball already in hand, one he's fidgeting with by pushing the release button gently in and out.

"I assume you'll be wanting the video only if you win?" Maria asks.

After a glare, Silver admits, "Yeah. You ready yet?"

"Assuming you are, yes." Her voice still sounds a little shaky from earlier. "Shall we?"

Silver nods wordlessly. He throws out his ball at the same time that Maria does, releasing a Sneasel to face Maria's own Furret.

Maria hums thoughtfully to herself, surveying the battlefield, her eyes narrowed in clear concentration. "Hunter, Brick Break."

"Faint Attack," Silver counters—then mutters something that sounds suspiciously like a swear under his breath as the Furret launches herself at his Sneasel with a devastatingly effective blow. One that could, quite easily, knock out that Pokémon entirely.

Except... it doesn't. The Sneasel throws aside the stem of an eaten berry and peels himself up off the ground with a defiant cry.

Not down yet, clearly—a fact that prompts Maria to exchange a curious look with her Furret.

"Interesting," she says, very thoughtful. "Headbutt, then."

The Furret promptly barrels in, quick as a flash—

"Ice Shard first."

—only to be met midway by a flurry of ice. It doesn't stop Hunter, doesn't even slow her down, and when she collides head-first with Silver's Sneasel, this time the other Pokémon isn't able to stay standing.

Hunter preens, standing up on her hind legs. She doesn't even look particularly bothered by the shards of ice still stuck in her coat even after she makes a half-hearted attempt at shaking them out.

Silver recalls his Pokémon quickly. He sends out his next Pokémon—a Gengar—much less quickly.

"Sludge Bomb," Silver says. The Gengar obeys, producing a thick glob of sludge from somewhere within his body and hurtling it at a very disgruntled Furret, who tries very hard to dodge the attack but can't quite manage it.

"Hunter, U-Turn," Maria says... more calmly than before, already producing a second ball. Hunter makes an attack, though it does very little to the Gengar—it's more to swap out to a different Pokémon, specifically her own Gengar.

Compared to Silver's Gengar, Adeline is both generally bouncier and a little larger. She grins towards the camera, risks a cheeky little wave.

"Ade—"

Both trainers shout, at the same time, "Shadow Ball!"

Both Gengar use the same move, summoning the very shadows in the room into a holdable form, a throwable form. Of the two, Adeline proves ever-so-slightly faster, fast enough to hurl her own attack at the other Gengar's forming one, hitting the combined Ghost-type energy of both attacks into her opponent with a loud yell.

Silver's Gengar goes down in a single hit. If it can be called that. It's debatable if hitting someone else's attack into them with your own counts as a single hit.

(Those capable of understanding the speech of Pokémon, which is to say none of the humans present, can clearly hear that Adeline yelled the word "YEET!")

Silver recalls his Gengar. He doesn't hesitate before sending out his next Pokémon, though at a glance it seems to be a somewhat odd choice.

"Alakazam," he says. Frowns. "Psychic!"

Maria eyes Silver's next Pokémon—a Psychic-type, weak himself to Ghost-moves—and makes her own call. "Shadow Ball."

Adeline gears up for another shot, another shot that would likely be just as devastating—only for the Alakazam's eyes to gleam, for her arms to be telekinetically pinned to her side as she rises unwillingly into the air, and for her to be slammed bodily into the ground.

With a wince, Maria recalls her Gengar. She thinks about the situation, thinks about it some more, and exchanges Adeline for Eileen the newly-evolved Honchkrow.

The Alakazam looks back at his trainer with no small amount of trepidation.

"We'll be fine," Silver tells him. "Reflect, first."

His Alakazam nods, putting up a defensive screen before Eileen can swoop in with her own Faint Attack. One hit doesn't take him out. Neither, to Eileen's immense dismay, does a second one, and for all Signal Beam isn't a particularly effective attack, it isn't a particularly ineffective one here either. It's currently the best thing Silver can do.

"Faint Attack," Maria calls out, one final time—and the Alakazam goes down. Eileen isn't looking much better, at this point, feathers thoroughly ruffled. If the Alakazam had gotten one more Signal Beam in, she would have gone down first.

But she didn't.

She does, moments later, to the Magneton that takes the field next and wastes precisely no time ("Thunderbolt!") in retaliating with a wicked bolt of lightning.

Maria has options. Less options than before, to be certain, but she still has options. She takes her time in considering them.

She opts for Hunter, in the end. The risky choice.

"Brick Break," Maria calls out, one hand clenched around a Pokéball, the other in a fist. With a single heavy strike of her own, Hunter shatters the barrier and barrels on through to knock the Magneton back.

Back, yes—not out.

"Flash Cannon," Silver says—he's starting to look a lot more confident. And maybe he's right to, because Hunter isn't able to stand up against a sharp beam of metallic light.

But at this point, Maria's far from being not confident, herself. From the look in her eyes as she recalls Hunter, it seems that she's gotten what she wanted.

She swaps out Hunter for Molotov, the Arcanine wagging his tail as he emerges and wagging it even harder when he takes stock of the fact that his human is mid-battle.

"Fire Fang, why don't you?" Maria requests—Molotov's already lunging at the Magneton, fire already spilling over from his jaws, before she's finished speaking.

He leaps into the air, clamping down on one of the other Pokémon's magnets, yanking it down to the earth and shaking.

While they're in close proximity, though—

"Thunder Wave!"

—Molotov has no way of dodging the move, of preventing himself from becoming paralyzed.

"You can do it," Maria encourages. "One more time."

Even as the paralysis begins to set in, even as Molotov's limbs begin to lock up, he leaps one more time. Clamps down, one more time, though on a different magnet.

This time, when he drags the Magneton down, the other Pokémon doesn't rise again. Silver recalls the Magneton, sends out another Pokémon—his Feraligatr, this time—almost before the previous one is recalled.

"Try a Reversal," Maria says, and Molotov does try.

He doesn't succeed. The paralysis sets in, leaving him even more vulnerable to the Water-type on the field. It's an incredibly wide opening.

"Aqua Tail."

Silver takes it. His Feraligatr does, too. Molotov goes down, an apologetic boof leaving him as he does, and Maria whispers a quiet apology to his ball before sending out her own starter Pokémon. Rakuyo, the Meganium.

"Magical Leaf," Maria calls out. That particular move can't miss, though it isn't quite enough to knock the Feraligatr out.

"Ice Fang...!"

Neither, however, is the Feraligatr's attack enough to knock out Rakuyo. A second Magical Leaf does the trick, the leaves entirely overwhelming the Feraligatr. Silver's fifth Pokémon.

His sixth, as it turns out, is his Golbat—putting Maria's Meganium at a distinct disadvantage.

"AncientPower," Maria says, voice tight.

"Aerial Ace!" Silver shouts—and the Golbat is faster. Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly.

Meganium is not, after all, known for their speed as a species. And so, both Maria and Silver find themselves on their final Pokémon. On completely fresh final Pokémon, no less.

Maria inhales, exhales—and sends out her Seadra.

"Evelyn. Ice Beam, if you will?"

"Confuse Ray," Silver calls. The Golbat's faster. Not by much, but he very much is faster, a fact that does him very little good when he takes an Ice Beam directly to the face.

Silver's Golbat falters, as most things would when taking a blast of frigid ice directly to the face. But he regains altitude before hitting the ground, flapping a little haphazardly but very much flapping nevertheless.

"Poison Fang," Silver calls.

Maria frowns. "Ice Beam, again."

The Poison Fang connects. The Ice Beam goes wide. Wide enough, in fact, that Evelyn manages to slip on her own ice, landing on her side hard enough that it couldn't have not hurt.

"Finish her," Silver says. "Aerial Ace!"

"Surf—"

If the second Ice Beam hit, Maria would have won right there. If the Surf had hit, if Evelyn had been faster than one very determined bat, then Maria would have won right there.

But the Golbat still is faster. Aerial Ace connects, the Golbat tearing into Evelyn with a shriek—and the Seadra falls.

Maria stares, eyes wide. Silver stares, eyes equally wide. The camera stares, if it can be called staring when the camera is hardly intelligent and is currently propped up against a rock.

Silver's Golbat doesn't stare. He screeches triumphantly, circling around to perch on his human's arm, visibly quite taken with himself.

Silver himself looks at Maria. Looks at the Golbat.

"...Nice work," he says, very quietly.

The words have scarcely left his mouth before the Golbat begins to glow. The video ends before the glow fades, perhaps due to a lack of space on the device, but the words "what the f—" can be clearly heard just before the end.]

[servicpop]

kinktober extra — gun play leon s. kennedy x bttm male reader

ⓘ neighbour (slight ooc) leon ! clothed leon naked reader ! he puts the gun up your ass

The outbreak was doing you no good, and the fact that you were all alone when all went to hell wasn't helping much either. However, being locked in the safety of your home gave you time to hideout while the worst washed over. Though eventually, you were forced outside to scavenge for food. Unlocking your front door as delicate as tip toeing around a sleeping lion, you quietly stepped outside the comfort of your home.

You were fortunate enough to be greeted with desolate streets; only the occasional ripped up paper or trash rolled across the ground. You had almost nothing, not even a gun, just a baseball bat you bought awhile ago to play with your friends once, only to never touch it again until now. At least you took the time to impale nails to add a little more offense to your weapon.

After some soft crunching of gravel under your feet and walking through eerily quiet roads, you were met with a convenience store. The neon signs were busted and didn't glow anymore but you were able to make out some un-raided shelves behind the shattered windows.

You pushed on the front door, the quiet jingle of the door opening made you jump out your skin for a second, why'd the bell still work despite everything else being broken? You tried to keep your footsteps light, navigating around the fallen shelves and racks on the floor. Seeing a few canned foods still untouched and packets of chips as well as some beverages, you felt a twinge of relief wash over you. This was probably enough for you to not go outside for a few weeks.

You decided to walk behind the register, searching for some candy or others that would be stocked there. With no luck your eyes met the employees only door, slightly ajar. Clutching your bat in your right hand, you slowly opened the door before you were met with a light tap on your forehead. A gun, held by a blonde man who seemed to have seen it all.

“A survivor? I feel like its been ages since I've seen another living human being,” He sighed, lowering his weapon and pulling you into the room by your arm. You felt him pause abruptly once getting a good look at your face and you blinked away your initial fear upon having a gun pointed to your head.

“Oh, you're my neighbour aren't you?” The corners of Leon's lips twitched into a slight curve but not enough to be counted as a wholehearted smile.

“Leon? I thought everyone in the neighbourhood turned,” You on the other hand couldn't help but smile seeing a familiar face after fully believing you were the only human left on earth. You take a small glance around the room, noting the equipment stuffed into one corner and a makeshift sleeping bag as well as a first aid kit that had been visibly used.

You knew he was an agent from having small chats over the fence, and from the looks of things, even those who undergo arduous training suffered — even if it was a little bit more bearable for them than others.

Leon's grip eventually loosens and he turns his back to you as he walks to the far wall, sliding down against it into a seated position. From here, the bandaged up gash on his side peeks out from the rips of his shirt. That's why the glass was as broken as it was, it was a sign of Leon's fight with the undead.

Following in his footsteps you go to sit down beside him, pulling your knees to your chest as you turn to look at him. His eyebags have never been darker and there's a frown that stains his face. Leon breaks the silence while pulling his knee up to rest his arm on it, his gun clacking as he moved.

“So, it's just you?” He questions, and you can hear the awkwardness in his voice. He's never been a good talker, everytime you met him while on a walk thr conversations usually ended with a quick excuse to pull away from it. You blame it on him having to see more horrors than the average person.

“Is that a bad thing?” You mean it in a playful way, placing your hands over your knees as a cushion for your cheek to rest on. You almost burst out laughing when you see Leon tense and you can practically see the panic that he's offended you in his eyes.

“No— No, not at all,” he tries to defend himself.

“Would you rather that flower girl who lives down the street?” It's a running joke that the neighbourhood shares of Leon that the big, cold agent is in love with the soft, florist girl.

He shoots you a glare, one that shows just how many times he's heard it over and over again. Instead of replying, he turns his head with a scoff like a bunny stomping its foot angrily. You brush it off as well after seeing his lack of a response and your eyes draw to the gun that's still held firmly in Leon's hand. It would be handy for you to learn how to use one since the bat won't always be useful.

“Do you think you could maybe teach me how to use that?” You ask almost hesitantly, fiddling with your fingers in a nervous habit.

“The gun?” Leon questions, tilting the gun so he could look at it properly. One part of him doesn't want you to use it, it creates an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach seeing a guy like you hold such a murderous weapon. The other part knows it's for the best, for your own protection when he has to part ways with you. After a minute of just staring at the gun, he finalises his decision.

“Sure, I guess you'll need it in the future,” he groans as he stands back up, hand on his thigh like he was an old man getting up from his rocking chair. He tousels his wispy blonde hair, combing it back with his fingers before focusing his attention on you.

His thick black eyelashes flutter as he stares at your face for a second, walking up to you and caging your hands in his. He guides your hands to the pistol, letting you feel the cold metal to familiarise yourself. He doesn't say a thing while he lets you feel the barrel and the grip. The grip feels almost scratchy which he lightly scoffs at your expression when your fingers ghosted over the texture.

“That's why my hands are all calloused,” he faces his palm up, showing you his toughened palm while he flexes his fingers.

“You have to hold it like this, firm grip, two hands.” Leon helps to guide your hands in place, adjusting your fingers and your wrist.

He whispers under his breath “Just like that,” watching as you hold the gun straight, aiming at the blank wall. You know it's best not to fire, though, that would attract whatever monster lays outside. The gun trembles, shaking like a stripped leaf, and you realise that your hands are quivering. You're not cut out for this. You feel the weight of Leon's hand lower the gun and he gently slips the weapon away from your hands and into his.

“You have to get desensitised to it, who knows what might happen without me,” Leon's eyebrows furrow and his nose creases from the pure thought of you getting captured and held at gun-point. It wasn't far from what could actually happen either considering the law was disregarded the moment people started eating eachothers brains.

Leon raises the pistol and presses the muzzle to your adams apple, feeling it bob from your swallows.

“Does it scare you?” It's not a threatening statement, it's him asking how you really feel having the gun pressed up against your skin. The hitch of your breath goes unnoticed as Leon drags the pistol lower to your chest. With the way he's looking down, you can see his dark eyelashes, a sliver of his muted blue iris' peeked through. He really was handsome.

“Or is it because you trust me that much?” The question jolts you out of your little trance, he was only your neighbour yet you didn't seem to react in fear when he held the gun to you.

“Maybe,” you breath out, letting your gaze flutter to the pistol dragging down your chest. Leon pulls it away before bringing it up and tapping the flat side of the barrel against your cheek. There's a certain look in his eyes, its almost pitiful like a hunter watching the deer caught in the net lay completely still, unfazed.

Leon leans closer to your face, his nose practically brushing against yours. You could almost make out the faint breaths if you listened close enough and you see his tongue dart out to wet his lips before he swallowed thickly.

“I think you're liking this a little too much,” he mutters, tilting his head slightly to the right as he looks down at you, his hair falling to the direction he moves his head at. The way Leon speaks now is hushed, sultry even. He's only half joking, he sees the way your eyelids flicker a little too rapidly when he glides the muzzle over your clothes.

Your face flushes, realising that he's caught on your little inner turmoil.

“It's just the adrenaline.” You swallow your lie like it's medication; it's hard to go unnoticed when you so obviously gulp. It's not fully a lie though — you've read in a previous article things like erections can happen due to adrenaline. You squeeze your eyes shut, almost like you're preparing to be scolded by Leon.

But all you're met with is a small sigh and a shake of his head.

“If you want it, do it quickly, we won't have time to indulge in distractions in the heat of things.” Your eyes fling open, caught off guard by the fact that the Leon, your neighbour, just gave you the greenlight. You look up at him through your lashes and he returns your gaze with a small glint of reciprocating desire. The absence of an opportunity for sex really catches up when you're surrounded by infected and never in a safe position.

Before you can even say anything, Leon is already slipping off your shirt; your jacket had already been discarded when you entered the employee's only room. He takes a moment to skim over your naked body, observing all the dips and curves, and the fact that your blush reaches all the way down to your shoulders. He brushes the muzzle over your chest, and upon seeing you shiver at the coolness, a smirk quirks on his lips.

“Cold?”

“Yeah,”

You whine, gripping his forearm in a lousy attempt to stop him from rubbing the metal on your nipple. It doesn't stop him though, he gently grazes your perky buds, chuckling softly as he watches your eyebrows knit from the feeling.

“Sorry then,” he hums with amusement coloring his tone. Leon's breath becomes shallower as he trails the gun down along the line in the middle of your abdomen, all the way down to your pants.

“You're going to be the death of me,” He grunts out, delicately guiding you to lean against the wall. His arm is wrapped so securely around your back like a warm embrace. The warmth of his arm around your bare back shields you from the frigid material of the wall but the second he slips it away from you your back arches off uncomfortably.

“Bare it,” Leon pushes you back against the wall and you whimper at the cold. Its somewhat cruel how he's doing this but you understand its to get your body used to the harsh changes in environments. He mumbled small praises that are inaudible to your ears but you can barely make out the words 'good boy.'

His fingers tug at your zipper, pulling it down but you reach out to stop him, noticing how he's not taking any of his clothes off. Like he was reading your mind, Leon scoffs with a small smirk.

“I can't, it's too risky to have to put anything on if we get ambushed,” He links his fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your boxers, stretching it out a bit before pulling them down to rest at your mid thigh.

“But that doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself,” He places one arm at the side of your head, caging it in, and his other weilds the pistol. He can't take off his clothes so he can't fuck you properly but he resorts to using his gun instead. It's shameless with the way he's spreading the soft flesh of your thighs apart with a gun like he was slotting his dick between them.

His eyes aren't on you, they're on your body, carefully sliding the hunk of metal against your hole. It almost hurts with how dry and cold the metal feels against your skin but you don't complain. Leon muses when he sees your cock twitch when he slides the muzzle up from the base to your pink tip. He quirks an eyebrow at you, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“Feels weird doesn't it? Promise once we're out of this shithole I'll give you everything you want,” Again, Leon goes off about something in the future. He's thinking of a future with you after things smooth over, you can't help but bite back the small moan you were going to let out. His bangs are now covering his eyes when he returns his gaze to your lower half.

Your hips instinctively move against the barrel of the gun, sliding yourself against it. Its like the pleasure is almost there but not really, its left you struggling to find good friction. Leon notices your strangled whines and contorted face and he feels slightly guilty for not being able to give you the relief you definitely need.

He spits on the gun, lubing it up and taking a mental note to polish and clean it afterwards. Leon tilts the muzzle up, wriggling it past your tight rim. When the tip of gun enters you, you gasp, straightening your body from the foreign object being stuffed in your ass.

“Leon—” your voice cracks.

“Trust me.”

He can hear the slight panic in your voice and his palm moves to cover your eyes. You're squirming, unsure of whether to lean in or pull away from the sensation. He pushes himself up against you to keep you still since his hands are already full. Leon groans gently at how much warmth he can feel seeping into his clothes from your body heat.

He slowly pushes the gun further, tuning into the soft squelching sounds of the metal making its way through your walls. Leon couldn't deny that he was a bit jealous of how his pistol was able to feel your wet walls clenching around it rather than himself.

“Shit, you're taking it better than I thought,” He grumbled under his breath, thrusting the metal into you, attempting to push it even deeper to find your sweet spot. Leon finally moved his hands from your eyes and placed his hand on your waist, extending his thumb to rub circles over your stomach. He twists the gun inside you, flushing against your prostate. The sudden jolt of pleasure caused you to cry out and reach to grab his shoulders.

He pushed against your prostate a few times, observing how your eyes would water with each thrust and how your teeth would bite down even harder on your bottom lip the more he hit that specific spot. He slowly pulled the gun fully out with a small pop.

“Didn't know that would work,” He joked lightly, slotting the gun between your legs once more and squeezing your thighs together. He threw the gun from one hand into the other, gripping the pistol in his left hand. Leon slid his ring and middle finger alongside your ass, dipping down the curve to meet your already stretched hole. He dipped his fingers inside, already burying his fingers up to his knuckles.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling his fingers up to press against the deepest parts of you. Leon dragged the gun back and forth between your thighs, letting you hump the metal like a dog.

“Attaboy,” he chuckled darkly, moving his fingers faster, practically slapping his palm against your tail bone as he fingered you from behind. Pre-cum started to bead off your slit and smeared all over Leon's gun.

“You're already getting so wet,” he shook his head, feigning disappointment as he moved the gun to trace your tip, ghosting over your skin.

You whined and thrashed from the ticklish sensation, but when you tried to lean away from it, you ended up pushing up against Leon's fingers, letting them reach even deeper.

“Leon,” you mewl, gripping his shoulders desperately as your dick twitches feverishly. “'M gonna cum.”

Your soft whimpers undoubtedly got his dick hard and he swore if you kept up with the whining he'd really just take off his pants and fuck the life out of you. Leon didn't respond, he just swallowed a groan and curled his fingers to your prostate.

Feeling that familiar spark in your veins, your body convulsed and you let out a high-pitched moan, blanking out as you shot ropes of cum out, dirtying Leon's gun with white.

“I got you, I got you, don't worry,” He felt your legs give out and quickly caught you, letting you lean on him while you came down from your high. Leon pulled the gun from your legs, turning it side to side and watching as your semen dripped down the sides.

Would it even work anymore?

[lunasfics]

Found Family

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

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

word count: 8.2k

preview

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

reblogs are appreciated!

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

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

“Good. Nightwing?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Heading there now. Files are downloaded.” 

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

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

Attempt 1: G6B24 

Specimen 1: Superman (Identity: Unknown)

Specimen 2: Batman (Identity: Unknown) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Batman?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?” 

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

“What’s going o-”

He hung up. 

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

Damian covered his laugh with a cough.

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

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

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

Bruce let out a deep, tired sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wayne.” 

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

“Wayne.”

This time Conner spoke, “Kent.”

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

Dick cut in, “How about Grayson?”

“No.” came their simultaneous response. 

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

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

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

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

Bruce huffed, “I suppose.”

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

You nodded, “I like it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re fine…Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bruce looked up, “Tim, this is Y/n.” 

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

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

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

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

His eyes widened, was that why you were there? 

“How?” 

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

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

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

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

Dick blushed, “Sorry Alfred.” 

Bruce simply gave a nod. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds about right.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This better be good.” 

Tim mumbled, “Finally” 

“Miss me Timmy?” 

“Quite the contrary.”

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

His eyes fixed on you, then on Bruce. 

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

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

“Holy shit, man.” 

“Jason, will you shut up?” 

“Never.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want time with her, Bruce.” 

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

Clark nodded, satisfied with that answer. 

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

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

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

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

Clark gave you a fond smile. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I suppose so.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, “Yes, please.” 

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

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

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

Cass nodded in agreement. 

“We’re just buying training clothes.” 

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

You smiled, “I would like a wardrobe.” 

“See?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded, walking away to change as well. 

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

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

You nodded.

“Let’s see it.” 

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

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

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

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

You nodded. Made sense. 

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, “How are we doing that?”

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

You nodded. 

“Okay… and…. Go!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[juricel]

heyyy its me again

I have a silly request for you which you can ignore if you want to, since I think your ask box is piling up haha!

basically,

Yandere reader x pre corrupt shadow milk cookie turns to reader x Yandere shadow milk cookie

Reader, at first is super obsessed and does a lot of stuff for pre-corrupted shadow milk cookie and hes like super disgusted by how they’re acting. And suddenly, reader disappears one day, and hes fine with it

beasts get corrupted then get jailed,,

while in jail shadow milk cookie misses how loving y/n was, and realised that he has taken them for granted </33 And now he wants them back because of how love deprived he became

when hes out of the silver tree he see’s y/n again and at first hes all hip hip hooray !! until he sees that y/ns clinging onto the THIEF!!!

he goes batshit crazy, you can be creative with this if you want or just give your little ideas/comments I just really want more food wahah

so sorry if this doesn’t make much sense, it’s 2am :’)

tysm for reading oh great one!! you don’t have to do this right away dont worry love ur work already

—💤non

a/n: it's okay, i understand what you were aimimg for! I focused on the other requests before this one and had some church duties to do, so I apologize for having you need to wait for so long.

— yandere! shadow milk cookie x past yandere! reader (ft. the bus driver, pure vanilla cookie.)

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა ۪ ׂ CONTENT WARNING: manipulation, physical abuse, heavy possessive and obssessive behavior, unhealthy relationship, implied forced established relationship, implied mindbreak, corruption, objectification, stalking, pure vanilla cookie needs a fucking break, one of these warnings is not like the rest, potential ooc.

𖦁 blueberry milk cookie was a heaven sent gift from the witches above, he was a celestial jewel, an angel's whisper brought down to earth, the very breath of seraphim—an impossible, transcendental blessing cradled in the tender arms of witches' own grace. he was a splendid confection, kneaded from divine essence, destined to scatter blessings upon the crumbed multitudes of earthbread—a being way out of your league, you, an ordinary cookie who could crumble and wither into a flour with not a single eye batting to your direction.

𖦁 ah, but how radiant he was, you couldn't help yourself from your love, your dear, your luminous, immortal darling. does he even know? does he grasp the way his mind glows, the way his thoughts spill like molten gold onto the parchment of your very soul? he was your everything, your love—your guiding star, your perfect darling, your sole, necessary breath. and yet, the world, the pitiful, ignorant world, could not comprehend his brilliance, like a mere toy, they had molded him, and cast him aside once their utilitarian need had been served; they did not deserve him. no, the world could not deserve him—those who fail to recognize the sacredness of his mind, who treat his wisdom as commonplace, who look upon him without the reverence of a disciple at the feet of a god—it sickens you, stirs a fury deep within your chest. in the hollowed, gleaming corridors of his towering spire, you would see them—fawning, indulging in their miserable, blind inanities, lost in the sick lies they prefer over the sublime truth he alone could offer. and mind you, it was he—he—who spent his invaluable time, his precious moments, entangled with these dull, odious fools, these imbecilic cookies just for them to throw it away! he should not have to share his divine self with such paltry, uninspired creatures. no, no, no. you could not abide it. you would sever every connection, carve away every distraction, erase every tether that pulled him from you. and if it were required to cloak him in the softest, most unrelenting shadow, to shield him from the world that could never grasp his greatness, to hide him where only your gaze could drink in the luminous glow of his mind—so be it. you would protect him, cherish him, and keep him safe from those who could never understand him as you do.

𖦁 yet, he couldn't seem to understand it all; with every embrace, a look of disdain was given to you, as if you were a taint smeared upon heavens, can't he understand? these cookies were the one that were evil! they will defile him, corrupt his very name with degeneracy! you were merely shielding him away from the evil, how could he not comprehend that? he must've been brainwashed. yes, surely, or so that was what you wanted to believe, however, all his actions proved otherwise: with every touch, he recoiled, like a skittish moth repelled by the flame it once sought. with every affectionate word, he replied in clipped, mechanical syllables, blunt and cold, each one landing with the weight of a slammed door. there was no love in them—no warmth, no hesitance, no trace of a feeling that might, by some miracle, have softened the harsh lines of his indifference. you learned quickly that tenderness was a language he neither spoke nor cared to decipher. a hand reaching for his own was met with a perfunctory pat, a touch devoid of meaning, as if acknowledging, rather than returning, the gesture. you could pour all your warmth into him, let it trickle down the cracks in his facade, but he would not absorb it. He remained, steadfast in his distance, near enough to torment, far enough to elude. you tried to believe in the silences, in the space between his words, in the possibility that somewhere beneath that marble exterior, there was something that resembled love. but hope, much like affection, was wasted on him. you tried, really! to continue loving him, you truly did, but, ah, your feelings leisurely diminished into grains of flour until your love turned into rust and dust.

𖦁 it wasn't long until then your unfortunate sweet dear darling, the celestial beacon in your life was sullied into taint when you vanished into thin air. from graces, he fell, and into the bottom of the endless pit of corruption.

𖦁 and oh, how much he changed: in the cold, lonely cell, he reminisced the past, thought of you, thought of your oh so tender gentle caresses! and to say that it made him deprived of warmth, made him ache—hunger not for food, but for yours was an understatement. he sought and yearned for it, hunger gnawed, a sensation with fangs, sharp and insistent, curling inside his ribs like a starved serpent. he gwaned for you—not sweetly, not poetically, but in the way of a body denied water, of lips cracked and trembling at the edge of a mirage. oh, to be held, to be devoured, to be anything but this wretched hunger pressing against the ribs, licking at the throat, whispering: more, more, more... ah! he couldn't stop it! he promises to himself that he'd apologize to you and pamper you with affection once he gets out of this petulant little silver tree!

𖦁 and he'd definitely stick to his word; the moment he flees from the withering tree binding him and his allies, he had his priorities straight: to find his dear darling! he was beyond ectastic, thoughts filled of embracing you once more and kissing you, but, ah, none could prepare him for the sight that would unfold infront of his very gaze—his sweet puppet was linking arms with /him/. at first, he laughed, he chuckled and brushed it off, no, no, surely he was just presuming things! there was no way his dear would betray him and replace him with such a... ungracious caricature of a cookie, right? right? if you were, he'd definitely need to give you a better eyes as a replacement which was a no worries for him! he has a nice stock of replacement! surely, you wouldn't stoop down to that level of degeneracy. yet, you didn't approach him like he thought and dreamed of within the silved tree, you only took a cautious step back, away from him, away from your perfect celestial darling and to the burlesque version of himself, realization dawned and it made him seeth with anger.

𖦁 blasphemous! how dare you! you superseded his spot with this thing?! to betray him was one thing, but to replace him with this cheap copy of himself whom hadn't grown ever slightly intelligent despite wielding his own power?! you little pest! he'll make you pay for this. oh, and, don't worry your pretty little brain! he promises to be much, much more tender than he will be to him, it will be grand, a show that will mark itself in earthbread's history. so won't you be a good little dear and wait till he finishes his one last marionette show before tending to you?

𖦁 and as for the destiny of the silly little thief... ah, he vows to make him taste his own medicine and he'll make certain it will be a fate worse than crumbling away! he wasn't gonna kill him, no, no, death was far too gentle, he was gonna corrupt him, brainwash his mind with sweet, insidious poison, and distort his reality into a glistening hall of mirrors where every reflection was a lie, every whisper a trick of the light. he would unravel, unravel most grotesquely, as his reason frayed like moth-eaten silk, his thoughts dissolving into the same exquisite delirium that had once seized his own skull in its venomous embrace! and most importantly, he was gonna make him feel like what it felt like to be in his place! he stole his soul jam and now you, surely he doesn't think he can get away with that, can't he? no, no, if he wants to take from him so badly, he was gonna make him /him/.

𖦁 but ah, don't be so upset, dear. shouldn't you be exhilarated? he's giving you the attention you craved for, the attention you digged the sand and soils for until your fingers scarred and numbed for, the attention you yearned and sought for like a madman. so, why won't you clap, give your sweet jester an applause for his spectacular show? don't tell him you were still concerned of pure vanilla cookie! he simply put him in the right path, the road down to the deepest depths of hell, of course, but it was still a befitting destination!

𖦁 yet, still, still, you prattled on, fretting that lovely little head of yours over pure vanilla cookie—his name tumbling from your lips like some sacred incantation, a hymn to a god too distant to listen. and oh, how it curdled something deep inside him, how it set his very marrow alight with a fury so exquisite it was almost pleasure. could you not see? he was here. here, before you, in all his resplendent, fevered devotion, and yet you—blind, foolish, maddening thing—spoke of another. oh! perhaps a lesson was in order. yes, yes, that's right, a lesson. a gentle one, at first—he was, after all, a man of remarkable patience. a game, then, a little amusement, something to turn those wandering thoughts back where they belonged. he would not interrupt, no, never that. he would only guide, nudge, mold. and in the end, oh, you would see. you would understand. you would learn.

𖦁 and to say the wait had been merely excellent would be a crime of understatement, a paltry insult to the fevered anticipation that had coiled and uncoiled within him for so long. no, the outcome was a marvel beyond the bounds of mere expectation. you were back, back as you had been, intact, whole—his darling, his own, still in possession of that precious, once-fractured self. giddy with triumph, he would fall against you, arms encircling the exquisite stillness of your form, his dear darling, still and unresponsive—your gaze, those glassy and depthless eyes, did not meet his but stretched past him, unfocused, fixed upon some distant and nameless horizon. there was no flicker of recognition, no gentle return of his embrace. and yet, he clung to you, triumphant, unbothered by your silence, unshaken by your vacancy. you were here. that was more than enough.

a/n: I've received like... so many requests featuring pure vanilla cookie with yandere shadow milk cookie after i made that one post... do you guys want him dead? anyways, i just lost my pity in the guaranteed banner to fucking sherbet cookie. i need frost queen to turn him into snow once again... can someone bless me their mystic flour luck, ill give you my burning spice who is currently 4 stars (f2p)

[pomefioredove]

nightmares

summary: some chars I think would take care of a reader who has nightmares type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, vil, lilia, silver, malleus additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, this is self indulgent lol, platonic or romantic, not proofread, maybe a little ooc for a few ones

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

he initially assumes you're just staying up to slack off

you are friends with Ace and Deuce, after all

it takes a good scolding from him before you sheepishly admit that you've been having nightmares and thus losing sleep

now, Riddle comes from a family of doctors. he's no psychiatrist, but surely he can find a way to help you sleep despite it, right?

he tries everything- chamomile tea, weighted blankets, he even turned a blind eye when Ace and Deuce "borrow" a sleeping potion from the lab

nothing works

of course, this drives him mad. it seems like such a simple problem, and yet your body resists everything

your grades are suffering, and even worse, you seem like a walking corpse

he takes it upon himself to find a solution no matter what

and, of course, you have nothing to lose, so you indulge him

nothing medical or magical helps

eventually, he picks up a big psychology book and gets to work on the last thing he can think of

suddenly you're having tea and "talk time" with him twice a week at 4 PM sharp

turns out he kinda likes playing therapist

and if you're late to an appointment, it's off with your head

now you're starting to regret being his guinea pig, as thankful as you are

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫

you can't what?

sleep?

you can't sleep?

he laughs right to your face, much to your annoyance

who can't sleep? it's easy!

you begrudgingly explain your nightmare problem and he finally shuts up (for once)

after a long silence, he grunts something about learning from the master

big surprise, all of his "master lessons" just mean he gets to use you as a body pillow while you watch

very helpful.

eventually, as much as you hate to admit it, it starts to help

having something soft and warm protectively wrapped around you is as comfortable as it gets

you start managing to sleep through the day undisturbed

then nights

Leona boasts to everyone about fixing their beloved prefect's problem, but even after you're well rested, he's still dragging you back to his favorite nap spots

turns out he doesn't mind the company so much, either

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

"those eyebags are just dreadful, prefect,"

always perceptive and eternally critical

(AKA he's worried)

he knows right off the bat that something's up, but he doesn't press for answers until you come to him yourself

as tempted as he is to step in, he doesn't want to pressure you to share something you don't want to

he accepts your pleas for help (he's worried) simply because he doesn't want your performance to suffer (he's soooo worried)

he starts out through traditional means- teas, oils, setting your routine to perfection- and eventually starts brewing potions for you

only one per week, he doesn't want you to become reliant

and the side effects can be... a little disruptive

one morning you spontaneously collapse in his arms on the way to your first class

he has to drag you back to Ramshackle to rest, despite your insistence

eventually, he eases you into talking about the dreams

he's there to comfort you about them, someone to lean on (though just for you)

𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫

I mean... it's Silver

poor guy probably stumbled into one of your terrifying nightmares by accident

after that he started trying to subtly guide your dreams back to normal

when he gets to, of course

you're not even aware of it in your waking life, and he has no intentions of making his good deed known

it does give him the tiniest sense of accomplishment, though

𝐌𝐚����𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚

similarly to Silver, he's got a thing with sleep

his beloved prefect isn't sleeping well because of nightmares? he wants to help!

(please let him help)

he definitely won't let you refuse out of humility or embarrassment

he'll get you to rest and make sure all of your dreams are pleasant at no cost!

(AKA at the low, low cost of getting to see you so cute in your sleep. you're like a cat to him)

he will never not be fascinated by you

he's so pleased about being your unconscious protector; it makes him feel so wanted

his cute little child of man!

𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞

Lilia is no stranger to bad dreams

he's lived a long time; he's seen some things

every once in a while he, too, wakes up covered in sweat and tears

he can't help but feel a sense of longing when you describe your situation

you poor little thing!

right away he offers to keep watch over you, as if guarding you from an unseen enemy force

he's up most of the time, anyway

watching you is no problem!

you think that sounds reasonable enough

by night two you wake up in the early morning with his arms around your waist and his face buried in the crook of your neck

little bastard is definitely stealing your body heat

you don't say anything, though- you haven't had a nightmare since

(and neither has he)

[that-smallinjured-bowylamb]

MY NAME IS. BRUTUS.

Damn fourth fic of the day, yeah? Why am I listening to these music while writing? Idk. But let me do my thing ‼️‼️ P.S. All this while it was 5pm in the evening too🙏

Gender Neutral reader

Genre: as you can tell with many others in the singer!reader au posts, Romantic.

Involvement: Main cast

Warnings?: cussy [yk what time it is ‼️‼️], comedy cus I can't live without it, if you see mistakes I'm probably half brain-dead for not noticing it, OOC[just in case], and uhmmm other things idk help me I'm multi-tasking through apps [texting my friends in whatsapp, TikTok, going back to Tumblr, and random ass research that has nothing to do with any of my works 🙏‼️], idk what else to add.

Ayeee shoutout to @sparklybasementcherryblossom

Thank you for reminding me I had this in my playlist!!!

So you see, you've been getting popular recently... but who cares? You're actually getting paid for it so, Letts cook up another one ‼️‼️‼️

And you thought of one thing.

Brutus...

Oh, that name. With so much envy driven into madness. Yes. That one.

You are going to have so much fun with this.

For the next performance.

They have no idea what's coming for them.

You've already set up the stage, and set in the camera for streaming. You've already had a few people in your otherworldly band, so you were happy to do more.

☆~~———~~☆

You've set up the play, it was like everything before, everyone had sat down to see the play, you had new additions for this music, though.

Because it's gonna get loud.

Riddle, Ace, Deuce, and Trey all sat in front since yk, they're your first friends in a dorm?? And so on with Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Jamil, Vil, Rook, Epel, Idia[tablet], Ortho, Malleus, Silver, Sebek, and who else could be companions of yours.

You've started it.

Now they'll hear it.

The music begins...

It went silent before it got louder and louder.

You hear the chorus of women, humming, singing random incoherent words.

And no one fucking understands.

The beats sounds heavy, like any other songs you've recently played, but this one has something, unspoken, heavy, feeling.

I've been watching him for my entire life,

I hate the air he breathes,

his foolish decrees,

His words so contrived

And I hate the way the townspeople gather outside,

They hang on every breath,

Cling to his chest,

Home to his heart full of pride.

Whoa, now that was a surprising start, your voice seemed exhausted, angry in a way. It's like speaking through your teeth with unbridled rage.

The oracle told him to beware of the Ides,

And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't wishing,

For an untimely death or demise.

You've spat out those words like venom.

DAMN. Right off the bat?? Chill [Name]! Ruggie would've been scared if it weren't it being a music play.

Or am I just wishing just wishing I could be like you?

That the people would see me too as a poet,

And not just the muse.

The envy in your voice pours out for everyone to see.

Rook was wondering if it was pointing to him...

Vil felt a strange feeling of Deja vú.

Oh, it's not true,

I don't wish harm upon you,

You reassured in a mocking way.

Riddle was thinking on what the implications might be... Trey was attentively listening, could you be envious as well? Cater stresmed again, in a more hushed tone.

From birth,

We've been like brothers of different mothers,

within the spirit of the same womb,

May the Gods strike me down if I forsake you,

You sounded desperate, in what way, though?

Frater Meus, you're beautifully made,

And to you,

I'm forever grateful.

I'll never forget that you showed me to make art,

And I know the love you showed me came,

From a pure and noble heart.

Okay... weird thing to say when you literally wished for someone's death...

Idia seemed interested, Ortho likes the emotions put into this, Malleus is wondering why your singing all the time, Vil explained its a form of expression.

I love you,

And if you want, I'll call you king.

You said in a hushed tone.

All are listening closely like a secret being told

But why do I lie awake each night thinking,

"Instead of you, it should be me"?

Jamil looks at you like you've hit amnesia, no shit???

Something wicked this way comes,

And as I set to face it,

I'm unsure.

Should I embrace it, should I run?

The words weigh heavy, lingering in the air, crashing down in suffocation.

What motivates me?

Hatred? Is it love?

What's more wrong:

That I too wish to be great

Or,

My mother wished she'd had a son?

Your voice grows frantic, in a desperate dance.

Everyone is worried on the implications of what it could've meant, jealousy.

You gasp.

And even if I can't be the one,

Maybe I could at least help

Make way for him,

Until the day that he comes?

In a crazed manner, your expression was manic.

Maybe my name could also be known,

That I helped return good to the people,

And restored greatness to Rome?!

You raised your voice slightly.

Making some flinch in surprise.

A chant of 'Brutus' in the background.

A scene of Brutus killing the man she envied.

MY NAME IS BRUTUS,

AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY,

SO WITH A HEAVY HEART,

I'LL GUIDE THIS DAGGER INTO THE HEART OF MY ENEMY.

Oh! Uhm...

MY WHOLE LIFE,

YOU WERE A TEACHER AND A FRIEND TO ME,

PLEASE KNOW THAT MY ACTIONS ARE NOT ONLY MOTIVATED ONLY BY,

ENVY.

I, TOO, HAVE A DESTINY, THIS DEATH WILL BE ART!

Your voice grew louder and louder, enough to awake the sleeping students.

THE PEOPLE WILL SPEAK OF THIS DAY,

FROM NEAR TO AFAR!

THIS EVENT WILL BE HISTORY,

AND I'LL BE GREAT TOO,

I DON'T WANT WHAT YOU HAVE,

I WANT TO BE YOU...!

The intensity of your voice increases, never ceases. The envy boiling in your tone like a forbidden spell not to be chanted.

The audience is left hypnotized with its intense tones and harsh words, it's like sharpening knives grazed on their ears.

I always knew I could be the one,

Though, I feel the endless pain of being,

And I am scorched by the sun.

What.

-Malleus, probably.

Of humble origins,

And born of the cursed sex,

My name is Brutus,

But the people will call me Rex.

Hushed out a voice from the last verse, a rasp sound in the throat.

The women hum and chant in incoherent voices.

The music ends.

Well done.

The audience was quiet, then finally.

"Wooo! That was amazing!!" Epel yelled.

Everyone erupted into an applause.

You're talented, [Name]. No matter what it is your good at, whether your confident or not.

You'll be recognized by the others.

The End.

OOUUFF DONEEE!!!

Enjoy !!! :>

[jscrawls]

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, poor writing, possible ooc,

Part 13: dinner and a movie?

🔹🔹🔹

“Hello.” an unknown voice calls out to you from the library doorway, you quickly turn and spot a redhead in a wheelchair holding the door open with one arm.

“Hi there, are you one of the befores?”you watch as she wheels herself into the room, the door falling shut with a quiet thud as the carpet crunches softly beneath the wheels. “The befores?” She tilts her head, glasses slipping down her nose a bit before she nudges them back up.

“The people I apparently knew before the attack.”

She pauses at that, before nodding her head. “Yeah, I'm a before. I'm Barbara Gordon, nice to meet you again. Please call me Barb.” She holds her hand out for a handshake which you give, her hold unsurprisingly firm.

“Like wise, I'd introduce myself but that'd be foolish.” You drop down on the couch behind you after the introduction, lightly wincing for a moment. “Funny, are you in pain?” she puts the brakes on her wheelchair beside the couch and pulls a lemonade out, watching you curiously through her lashes.

You shrug before answering, she likes to stare you note. “Physical therapy is a bitch.” You also fell on your side earlier while trying to hold a plank, but that's for you alone to know.

She snorts at that, “oh, trust me I know exactly how much of a bitch it is.” She mutters under her breath, when you glance at her with furrowed brows she elaborates. “Spinal injury, long story.” You nod your head with a small wince, you've had enough of those types of injuries in your life.

“noted, well Miss Barb can I ask what you're here for? Not to be rude, I just don't remember much yet.” You go straight for the point, she seems relaxed but you don't miss how she watches your every move, head quickly turning towards you when you reach for the book you'd been reading when she came in. She's on edge around you.

“Dick invited me over for the movie.” She says casually before taking a loud sip of her drink, the memory of the overly touchy young man nearly makes you roll your eyes, of course he's here-wait… “what movie?” Barb smiles something devious, looking amused with herself for a moment before replying.

“oops, guess Bruce didn't tell you yet. Just between you and me he wants everyone to have dinner and watch movies with him in the cinema room, you included.”

….. What? You give her an incredulous look at that revelation, her expression and body language showing she's serious. “…alright, is this something the family does often…?”

She nods, still looking amused at spilling the tea before anyone else could. She leans closer to whisper conspiratorially to you. “Mhmm, usually it's Duke or Alfred pushing it but I think your man wants an excuse to spend time with you. Just treat him like a boy with a crush, yeah?” “…okay?”

She pats your shoulder almost patronizingly before taking the brakes off and rolling herself towards the door, calling to you over her shoulder as she goes. “I'll see you in a bit, operater!” The door slams loudly behind her.

🔹🔹🔹

dinners awkward, as soon as you’d walked in barb gave you a knowing grin before turning back to her conversation with cass and an unknown blonde girl. the blonde, upon seeing you, hopped up out of her chair and approached you.

“howdy partner.” they winked and gave you finger guns, looking you up and down with exaggerated scrutiny while starting to circle you.

you watch them with confusion, you’re guessing they’re one of the kids friends…

“…hi, we’ve met i’m assuming….?” “yep! call me stephie!” they nod with a smile and loop their arm through yours and pulling you with her towards the table, sitting you between her and dick, great.

the rest of the dinner was spent between two very chatty young people, by the end you understand captain rogers complaints about slang.

you tried to slip away after dinner, you even had the perfect excuse too. you were tired after physical therapy and wanted to crash early, but then you were cornered by bruce of all people.

“….hey, are you busy?” his voice is soft as he approaches you, he leans against the wall with forced casualness and crosses his arms loosely.

you shift slightly as you glance down the hallway and then look back at him, “i was just heading to bed, why?” barbs words echo in your head as he rubs at the back of his neck, is he still nervous around you?

“me and the kids were dogpiling in the screenroom….you wanna come sit in for a bit?” he smiles at you, though you can tell it’s forced. you glance down the hall again, he could invite his affair partner if he wants someone cuddly. you open your mouth to reject the invite when he speaks up again. “you don’t have to watch a whole film, i just think it’d be good for you to be around loved ones right now. maybe you’ll remember something?….” that’s practically a beg, you’re surprised he’s not on his knees for you right now.

just say no, your attempts at blending in won’t suffer if you’re too tired to play dollhouse. “……a few minutes won’t hurt.” why did you agree. but before you can backtrack he exhales and grabs your wrist to lead you, you’re so fucked…

you’re lead through the large house until you reach some kind of home theater room, barb and the two girls are again talking on one of the couches while tim leans against the stephie girl, damian is sitting in the floor with a large dog curled up trying to pretend it’s a lapdog, and dick is watching jason and duke bicker over something in the center of the room.

when bruce drags you in all eyes turn to you, there’s a moment of silence where you’re just awkwardly staring at each other before bruce clears his throat and pulls you further in the room to one of the couches.

“what’s the verdict, who’s picking this time?” bruce glances around as he speaks, his eyes landing on a scowling duke and a smug jason. “i want to watch the godfather again.” duke cuts in before jason or anyone else can. “dude, that was your pick at halloween. we’re not watching it again.” jason rolls his eyes as he walks over to you. “it’s a great movie!” duke calls out defensively as he follows jason.

“how about we watch something more light tonight?” dick tries to mediate, damian scowls up at him from the floor. “no, i’d rather watch the godfather again than sit through one of your disney movies.” dick looks offended at damian’s scoffing retort.

bruce sighs as the bickering morphs before your eyes, “come on let’s play nice, i thought you all had something picked out already?” “i just wanted to watch lord of the rings.” jason crosses his arms as he speaks, stephie rolls her eyes and speaks up from her spot on one of the couches. “you can’t just watch one of those though, we’re not sitting here for nine hours jay.” “you wanted to watch the barbie movie collection at christmas shut your mouth about long movie runs stephanie.”

you drop your head back against the couch while they bicker, bruce slowly sits down next to you at a respectful distance and drapes a blanket over your lap. it feels like he’s trying to keep you there. barb looks over at you with an amused smirk on her face, pointedly glancing between you two before turning back to her conversation.

“enough fighting guys, just pick something please.” bruce pinches his brow, clearly fed up. no wonder he’s going grey.

“how about we let master wayne decide? they should feel included yes?” a voice speaks up behind you all, alfred walking in the room with a sly look in his eyes. you bet he knows you don’t want to be here, he looks too smug as he sets down a tray of snacks and drinks.

the kids all exchange glances and turn to look at you, bruce shifts beside you and turns his head to speak quietly to you. “you don’t have to answer, i know you don’t know any of these movies so i can just pull rank on the kids.” you turn your head to also speak quietly, “it’s fine, i’ll manage somehow.” you glance at duke. “let’s watch the godfather.” you speak loud enough to be heard over the quiet bickering still happening.

duke throws his hands up in victory, “yes! suck it jay.” he quickly dodges the tossed pillow and goes to fiddle with the projector, looks like you’re resigned to sit here for a few hours.

🔹🔹🔹

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Taglist: @cxcilla @mercuryathens @dind1n @redsakura101 @ninihrtss @let-me-dance @ladykamos @one-piecelover @cuntiesweet @omnivirgo @shirp-collector-of-fixations @spidermanluvr444

[atierrorian]

Hello! It nice to meet you I adore your blogs they are so wonderful! May I ask for Diasomnia if you write for all of them. Having there lover being like severely injured but the lover doesn’t even notice. Like yeah they have a sword sticking out of there shoulder but they thought they could pull it out later.

Hii! It's nice to meet you too! And ofc you may!

And please do note that I haven't been keeping up with Twisted Wonderland for quite awhile now so they might be ooc or I'm possibly missing something!

Note: I excluded Sebek because I just had no idea how to write for him, I'm so sorry! And it's not proofread by the way.

WORD COUNT: 243

"My, what happened to you, my gem?" Malleus questioned at your state, you looked in terrible condition he couldn't help but worry for you.

You had a few wounds with shards impaling your skin, but he was most concerned about the huge blood pooling out of your stomach.

"Hm? What are you talking about? I feel fine!" You weren't, but you thought you'd go to the infirmary later, first you needed to spend time with your dragon yk. Set your priorities straight!

Your lover was amused by your carefree attitude. But he couldn't let you walk around anymore longer with injuries like that. Not on his watch at least. Besides, he doesn't want you passing out on him now during your walks together.

"You really are something else, my treasure. But let's get you patched up first." You sighed but complied and allowed him to heal you. You both sat underneath a tree as the fireflies watched and lit up as Malleus works his magic.

No matter how many times you've seen it, seeing it in action with his green luminous magic was always impressive. After a minute, you felt better and sighed in relief that the pain was gone especially in your stomach.

"There, you're all better now. And please do be careful next time." You sheepishly smiled.

"Alright alright, I promise."

He smiled at your response, and you continued walking together side by side.

WORD COUNT: 302

"Oh little bat! Whatever happened to you?~"

"AHH!" Lilia suddenly did his famous surprise attacks on you once again and you did not appreciate getting scared after what had happened today. Damn Ace.

"Hehe~ Why the face?" He got down from his spot and took a closer look at you. You backed up a bit but he got closer and closer until your back hit the wall.

The feeling of uneasiness crept onto you and sweat dripping from your face as his eyes wondered until it landed on the small knife that penetrated your palm.

Noticing his where his gaze was, you quickly tried to hide the injured hand out of guilt for trying to conceal your wound until he stopped you by grabbing your wrist. You winced at the contact and upon noticing your discomfort, he loosened his grip just enough to avoid hurting you further.

Lilia sighed in disappointment, where you were walking certainly wasn't towards the infirmary. In fact, you were going to the opposite way of where it is.

"My! This won't be good for you my little bat, let's go to the infirmary together shall we?"

"Huh-"

Without giving any more further explanation, you both were now at the infirmary and gently laid you on the bed. You felt yourself flushed from the action but glad that you were gonna get treated soon for the wound.

"Do rest well, little bat. When you recover, we can have as much as adventure as we want! Alright?" He smiled, damn him. You couldn't resist his charming smile even if you wanted to.

So, you had no choice but lay your head on the pillow and rest your eyes. And as you were about to go to the dream world, you suddenly heard a lullaby and felt a pair of lips kissed your forehead.

WORD COUNT: 368

Silver opened his eyes and felt someone leaning on his shoulder. And as he expected, it's you. He smiled softly and admired you and took in your features as you continued to snooze. But, as doing so, he noticed something... Is that a sword piercing your leg???

Silver at the moment felt conflicted, he didn't want to disturb you sleeping. You looked so peaceful and seemed to enjoy whatever dream you had with that smile of yours. And on the other hand, you were literally bleeding from your leg. How did you even manage to walk to him with such condition??

But, your safety was the most important to Silver. He gently nudged you in hopes of trying to wake you up and bring you to the infirmary to get your wound checked and for you to recover.

And he was successful. You slowly opened your eyes and saw Silver looking at you worriedly and a few animals looking at your leg where the sword was impaled.

"Ah, this is awkward ahaha..." You sheepishly smiled.

"[Name]... What happened?" Worry was evident in his eyes and you couldn't help but feel guilty making him so worried over your safety. It was so obvious on how much he loves and cares for you.

"I'll bring you to the infirmary alright? That could get an infection." As much as Silver wanted to ask questions and for the full details, he concluded that could be later, for now, he's going to focus on you and your recovery.

Silver got up and carried you bridal style despite your flustered protests. The animals also sat up and followed you both to the infirmary. A few students here and there watched you being carried by your knight and shining army with a sword jabbed on your leg and animals following you both.

The pain sure was cruciating, but if it meant you got to be saved like this by your prince charming? It was pretty worth it. However you're still gonna go and talk to those dumb airheads about NOT to touch things that don't belong to them.

But for now, you leaned in closer to his chest as you both arrived at the infirmary.

Is it obvious who I favorite? No. Totally not. (While writing this I was listening to "Mori no chiisana restaurant" you guys should listen to it as well!)

[dingus11111]

So… I binged Castlevania: Nocturne the day it came out.. Now I can’t get over Edouard. I literally love him so much, so without further ado…

NIGHT CREATURE!EDOUARD X NIGHT CREATURE!MALE READER

Warnings: NSFW, AMAB anatomy, horny reader, horny Edouard, soft sex, gentle sex, sub!bottom reader, dom!top Edouard, OOC (sorry), feminine reader, size kink, rimming, and teratophillia.

FEM/FEM ALIGNED DNI

You had died to one of the vampires living in the chateau and were, of course, thrown into the pile of dead bodies to be turned into a night creature.

☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪

The doors of the machine from hell slowly opened with a loud hiss. Steam enveloped your body as you stepped out from the machine forsaken by (the) god(s).

The steam gradually let up, your silhouette became more and more visible. You had an overall human looking body, with the exception of 2 pairs of arms, 4 eyes, 6 horns all differing in sizes, and rosy pink colored skin that was more on the deep red side than pink yet it was still pink. Your eyes glimmered a bright red, and a pair of white wings sat upon your back. You had long, maroon hair that cascaded down your back. It was silky and straight. Your mouth was filled with sharp, white teeth. Your torso was completely exposed; the only clothes you had on was a white loin cloth that did it’s job.

As you stepped out, you stayed silent. You were confused and unaware of what and where you were. Suddenly words rang in your ears, and you knew that you must obey.

“Guard the cell of the night creature who’s eyes shine like sapphires,” the Abbot commanded.

You growled as a way to signal that you understood.

“Good. Now go,” the Abbot ordered.

☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪

As you approached the cell you were meant to guard, angelic singing pierced your ears.

As a high note was sung, your eyes widened.

“Why am I guarding this cell?” You thought to yourself.

You sat down next to the cell and looked at the night creature who was in it. Your jaw dropped. He was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. His wavy, long hair that was almost as long as yours gently fell down his back and shoulders. Massive wings that resembled a bat emerged from his back. Horns protruded from his face and head. A gold streak on his lips, and gold, sharp, fingernails adorned the two hands that covered his face as if he was hiding himself. His eyes pierced through you. The blue encompassing your vision. You could only focus on those beautiful eyes. Those sweet eyes. Those eyes that glowed.

Edouard had stopped singing a while back, he was now looking at you. You didn’t notice, you were too busy staring at him.

“Hello?” He spoke.

You blushed in embarrassment.

“Ah- sorry.” You managed to choke out.

Embarrassing yourself in front of such a beautiful man/night creature was not on your bucket list.

You sit down, keeping watch and “guarding” his cell but in reality you were just watching him and only looking away when he glanced at you.

You began to get more self conscious, and shy. Your loin cloth suddenly felt like it didn’t cover enough. You wish your long hair was longer to completely enshroud your body so that he wouldn’t see it.

Edouard noticed this and chuckled. You didn’t seem to be like the other night creatures. You still had some humanity left in you. He found it cute that you were so shy. So adorable. So breedable. Wait, what? Did he just think that? Edouard blushed as his own thought, embarrassed by it just as much as you were embarrassed by your little amount of clothing.

“You seem cold, baby.” He played it cool.

“Would you like to join me in my cell?” He smiled sweetly.

Your eyes widened at the offer. How could you decline? You looked around you with haste, scanning for any other night creatures. You then quickly made your way into his cell.

As soon as you entered it, he rushed towards you and held you close. You flinched, surprised by the unexpected display of affection.

"Please forgive me... I can't control myself.." Edouard whispered lustfully in your ear.

Your breath hitched when you felt something hard against your thigh. You looked down. Pure surprise was the only thing you felt.

A large dick about 9 inches long and 2 inches in diameter was up against your thigh. It only made sense the Edouard was so big due to the fact that he was around 7-8 feet tall.

As you looked down at his hard sexual organ, you began to blush. Yearning and want settled in your brain, taking over your senses. Corrupting them.

You shyly gazed back up at Edouard, a heavy blush covering your face. Your eyes glimmered red as you spoke.

“I don’t even know your name, and yet… I long for you.” You uttered, not knowing where the sudden boldness came from.

He pushed you to the stone wall of the cell, still hugging you.

“It’s Edouard.” He seductively whispered in your ear.

Edouard quickly picked you up, so you were the same height as him. You wrapped your legs around his waist for stability. One pair of arms wrapped around his neck, and the other pair was flush against the wall.

He moved his face from the crook of your neck to in front of your face, just inches away.

As he closed the distance between your lips and his, he muttered something.

“So pretty like this.”

You two began to make out intensely. His tongue pushed against yours, creating swirls and spins together. His hands crept up to your chest, his thumb brushing against one of your nipples. His other hand rested on your hip.

As he broke the kiss, you panted heavily. Even in your human life, you had never kissed someone like that before. Your cock was hard, and leaked against the confines of the loincloth.

Edouard took notice of this and chuckled.

“I have a feeling you’re enjoying this.”

You nodded. Your face was painted with a heavy blush. All you wanted was him.

He leaned back in and kissed your neck. His soft kisses trailed down to your chest. One hand played with one nipple, while he sucked on the other. His tongue swirled around the now hardened bud causing your back to arch in pleasure. A bead of precum leaked from your still clothed dick.

“Ahn!~” You moaned.

You had never felt anything like this. The back of your head gently hit the stone wall. Whimpers and gasps spilled from your mouth like hot lava from a volcano.

He retreated his head away from your chest and back up so that he was at eye level to you. He was panting just slightly.

“I’ve never wanted someone this badly.” His hot breath puffed onto your face.

Edouard then put you down so that you were standing.

“Can you turn around and lean against the wall for me, baby?”

You turned around, excited as to what would happen.

When you leaned against the wall, Edouard grasped your hips and pulled them out. He proceeded to undo your loincloth. Your hard cock sprang out, precum dribbling down the shaft.

Edouard kneeled down, still behind you and spread your ass cheeks. Your hole fluttered for him.

“My nails are too sharp to finger you, love. I hope you can enjoy what I’m about to do as a replacement.” He spoke.

Your face turned bright red in embarrassment. The expression of shame was wiped off your face and replaced with one of pleasure.

“Fuck!” You gasped.

His tongue swirled against your hole and occasionally pushed in. He was eating you out like you were a 5 star meal. A soft groan escaped his throat as he thrusted his tongue in and out of your hole.

Loud moans flew out of you and filled the cell, even roaming down the halls to the other night creatures.

Edouard stopped rimming you, and quickly smacked him palm over your mouth.

“Please be quiet, dear. You wouldn’t want to get caught, would you?”

He breathed onto your neck before sinking his fangs into you and biting down, drawing blood.

“Mmphh!~” You screamed against his palm.

Your dick twitched from the intimate pain. Another bead of precum appeared on the tip.

He soothed over the bite with his tongue, lapping up the blood. His arms snaked around your waist, holding you close to him as he continued to lick the bite.

Once he was done, you were trembling mess. You wanted him so badly. Wanted him inside of you.

“Would you like to continue?” Edouard asked, wanting to make sure you still wanted this.

You nodded vigorously, wanting him more than anything.

He turned you around and picked you up so that your pretty chest was flush against his own defined pecs. You wrapped both sets of arms around him and your legs followed suit. He held you with one arm as he guided his large cock to your hole. He slowly sunk you onto it; the delicious burn singed through you. A hiss of pleasure and pain erupted from your plump lips.

“Shhh… It’s okay, baby.. it’ll feel good really soon.” Edouard cooed.

Eventually, he bottomed out. Edouard held you there, feeling your tightness get used to his girth.

Soon enough, you signaled for him to move and he obeyed. He slowly bounced you up and down on his shaft. You let out a soft moan of ecstasy.

As If overcome by something, you gained enough confidence to pull his face into a sloppy and passionate make out session as he continued to fuck you. Your tongues danced while your bodies moved in sync for each other.

He adjusted the angle just a bit, and hit your prostate dead on. Your eyes went wide and mouth fell slack. No noise came out of you. You trembled. He continued to pound into that spot. Your eyes rolled back as you tried to stifle your moans.

“G- gonna cum!” You whisper yelled.

Edouard grunted before responding.

“Me too, my love..”

He sped up, wanting you to feel even better. You cried out in bliss as you came all over his and your abdomen. He still pounded into you after you came, chasing his own release. He placed one hand against the back of your head and brought you towards him for another lustful, heavy kiss. As you kissed, there was a hint of sweetness. Suddenly, a low growl emitted from his throat as he came. He stopped moving you and came inside of you, filling you to the brim. Cum leaked from your hole, even though he was still inside. He slowly pulled out; his cum dripped from your gaping hole, down your thighs and legs.

He still held you close as he sat down with you. He pulled you even closer to him.

“You’re so beautiful.” Edouard smiled happily at you.

He stroked your head lovingly as you fell asleep next to him.

(I didn’t know night creatures could sleep, but they do now.)

“Goodnight, baby.”

SO! That was my first smut fic posted on this account! YIPPEE! It was kinda short, so sorry about that- 😭😭😭

If you have any requests, feel free to ask, I’ll try my best to write them!

ALRIGHT- love you guys! Bye! 🫶🫶🫶

[ghoulsbounty]

Hii! What's your headcanons about relationship with Otis Driftwood? Nothing too violent towards reader after they became a s/o, if you could, without going into ooc <3

Otis Driftwood In a Relationship

Warnings: smut (18+), control, possessiveness, gaslighting, mentions of sex work (not reader), canon-typical violence, aggression, narcissism, it's otis - he is a warning!

Words: 1.1K

A/N: Thank you for my first Otis request! I've been in love with this man for going on twenty years so I have lots of headcanons for him. I feel like this is realistically (to me) how he would have a relationship with someone who wasn't either a victim or murderer while still keeping him in character (I hope!) Also yes I had to get the quote in the last bullet, I was watching the film as I wrote this. I hope you enjoy it. I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

→ It's widely known that Otis harbours some unconventional interests. In the small town of Ruggsville, the Firefly family's prominence, especially their ties to local celebrity Captain Spaulding, is undeniable. In this backwater community, everyone has their own shades of darkness when it comes to entertainment or survival, so you don't bat an eyelash at the rumours circulating about the family.

 → Otis charms you with his quick wit and sharp tongue, an aura of danger enveloping him and lingering in his presence. He frequents the local watering hole where you work, spending quiet summer evenings regaling you with stories of travelling the country with his younger sister, moving from one stolen car to the next. When you ask why he returned to the dead-end town, he nonchalantly declares that family is the most important thing to him. And then, with a mischievous grin, he casually mentions his involvement in a Satanic cult. 

→ Otis thinks that perhaps what draws him to you is your refusal to flinch at his unsavoury stories or the sly smirk you offer when he alludes to the sweet taste of your skin. He enjoys the recoil from others, welcomes it even because it's what he's known since he was a child and means he's got the upper hand. You give him pause, a dangerous thing indeed. In you, he sees a kindred spirit equally disillusioned with societal norms, and he wonders how long it will take to break you. 

→ With every aspect seemingly covered, there's no obvious place for you in his life. Yet, thoughts of you intrude on his mind during the day, distracting him from his tasks. The persistent idea that you might offer something different to his routine gradually consumes him, eroding all other thoughts until only you remain. 

→ His carnal needs are met by the bottom feeders he keeps around for a quick release. Sometimes, when their pleading becomes bothersome and he wants the peace and quiet, he will end it fast because it's easier when they're cold. He pulls them into his cot and curls into them until they have festered and rotten to the point that Tiny has to dispose of them. If it's a willing body he seeks, a trip to the whorehouse suffices. 

→ It's a few months before you meet the family. Otis doesn't need to tell you the importance of the moment, you can sense it in his tense demeanour, permeating the lounge as Mama parades you around the room like a prize pig at the county fair. You sense his eyes upon you, observing your reactions to each member, particularly noting your response to Tiny's imposing presence and your handling of Grandpa's vulgarity. In his mind, he rationalizes that you'll need a strong stomach if you are going to be with him. 

→ You are under no illusion that you're not the only person from whom Otis seeks comfort. He isn't shy about the fact that he needs more than what you can give him, says as much when he insists on you leaving him be for a few days to exorcise his darker urges. He doesn't approach the subject of you joining him sometimes until he is certain that you won't spring like a scared rabbit. When he finally does ask, you accept with a morbid curiosity.

→ Otis certainly has his private indulgences, but he takes great pleasure in involving you in some of his less solitary activities. Whatever the pursuit may be, it often concludes with him inside of you, his teeth leaving raw marks on your skin as he draws out multiple orgasms from your pliable body.

→ In these moments, he alternates between showering you with praise and delivering sharp, cutting remarks, his rough fingers encircling your throat as he thrusts into you with relentless force, pushing you to the brink of ecstasy until you're cock drunk and screaming his name. He relishes in the intensity of the experience, breaking you down only to rebuild you according to his desires, sculpting you into his perfect masterpiece.

→ Over time, Otis's possessiveness and control puts an end to your employment, your independence dwindling in the face of your need to be with him and his need for your servitude. His affection is conditional upon your compliance and submission, and when you prove yourself to him is when you get your reward of a tender kiss to your nose, or being pulled into his lap for a warm embrace. His love is a privilege to be earned, and he is fast to take it away if he deems you unworthy of it.

→ Otis perceives you as an extension of himself, expecting you to conform to his desires and interests. He finds pleasure in your engagement with his world, he likes when you lounge on his stained mattress in nothing but his shirt listening to his musings on the complexities of human nature. He encourages you to challenge his viewpoints, igniting debates that fuel his passion.

→ However, you soon discover that venturing into this territory can be perilous. It often results in Otis's eyes blazing with fury, his hands trembling with conviction as he towers over you, unleashing a torrent of berating and belittling words until you find yourself on your knees before him. It's a volatile dance of intellectual stimulation intertwined with the raw intensity of his dominance.

→ It falls to you to navigate these moments, gently guide him back to a sense of equilibrium with a steady stream of apologies and affirmations, trail open mouthed kisses down his body until you feel him relax under your touch. Sometimes his tumultuous thoughts wouldn't waver and he'd either take his frustrations out on your cunt or push you away until you are begging at his door. For Otis, isolation becomes a test of your loyalty—will you stay, or run? 

→ And time and again, you choose to stay, receiving no verbal apology afterward because that is Otis' way. However, when he deems fit, he leaves small tokens on the bedside table for you to find in the morning—a small sculpture, a painting—his non-verbal way of acknowledging his feelings about his actions. You know better than to draw attention to these gestures. Instead, you offer a kiss to his lips as a silent acknowledgment of his effort to make amends. His response is typically playful yet affectionate, a light smack on your behind accompanied by an eye roll, never one to dwell on sentimentality.

→ Overall, Otis is content with you, would dare say happy. You fit into his life with ease, don't give him much grief when you're not busy bitching a song about nothing. However, the devil makes work for idle hands, and there's still work to be done in fully acclimating you to his ways. He does love watching you break.

[tswhiisftteedr]

ANYTHING Lute x Reader, i just need to see more of this perfect gal whose had like 3 minutes total of screentime

Girls ☆ One Shot

☆ Lute x Human Soul!Fem!Reader:

After having met you on your first day in heaven, your life and lute’s would change for the better as you had found your other half despite your original predicaments.

Words: 4228

Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Honestly Nothing Kinky, It’s just plain girl on girl smut. Homophobia. Lute might be ooc. NOT PROOFREAD.

Notes: Okay right off the bat, some bullshit logic about angels being able to tell if someone is queer, also lute is gay but has some major internalized homophobia so for a good chunk of this she’s rude to the reader just because they’re gay.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Frankly, the scenario felt weird, especially given the fact that both of you were, well, 'you.'

From a logical standpoint, it didn't add up, not in the slightest. However, in the grand scheme of things, ‘does love really need to make sense?’

The response to that question was unquestionably, no, when observing your relationship with Lute.

It all began when your seemingly stable life abruptly crumbled. While crossing the street, mind you, at a red light, fate took a dark turn as a truck with faulty brakes struck you, ending your life on the spot.

There was no reincarnation into another world after this encounter with truck-kun; you were flat out dead.

In the blink of an eye, you found yourself standing before the gates of Heaven, where Saint Peter meticulously inspected his book, akin to the VIP list of an exclusive nightclub – or so it seemed.

However, instead of the typical club scene with artificial lights, drugs, unpleasant odours, drunk individuals, and a sense of desperation, you were enveloped in a heavenly realm. Fluffy clouds, savoury food, sweet fragrances, joyful company, and an overwhelming sense of acceptance surrounded you.

This was truly paradise, and you were relieved that your life wasn't too problematic. After being shown your potential residence—a beautiful house with a spacious garden—and touring 'Heaven city' with a friendly Angel couple, you enjoyed exploring your surroundings.

However, the perfection took a turn when you accidentally encountered the first unfriendly 'individual' in Heaven.

"Watch it," the woman with white hair warned you, and after scanning you from head to toe (much like her golden-winged companion), she remarked, "I guess they really let anybody in these days, even people like you."

With those words, she walked away accompanied by the non-human-looking 'man,' which seemed to be the norm in this place. However, you couldn't shake off the unease caused by her reference to 'people like you.'

Soon, you discovered the meaning behind her comment. Apparently, angels here could distinguish between cis-straight and queer individuals.

The reason of ‘why?’ remained unknown to you, but what became clear was that, in her opinion, you didn't deserve Heaven—not based on your actions but solely due to your sexuality, ‘and that pissed you off.’

You had planned to confront her the next time your paths crossed, and that moment arrived three months later, long after you had moved on from the incident;

Now, you were patiently waiting in line to sample drinks at the recently opened smoothie bar. The atmosphere was serene and heavenly, as expected.

Just as it was about to be your turn to order, you were rudely jolted by the announcement, "Move it, bitches, Adam’s in the houuuse."

You found yourself pushed aside, forced to witness the obnoxious Angel now placing his order.

Midway through his order “Pineapple smoothie with extra pineapple, tapioca, grass jelly, make it an extra-large with extra sugar, then she’ll have-“ it suddenly dawned on you that he was the guy with the white-haired companion from last time. Before you could fully process it, you turned around to find the white-haired woman right beside you.

Upon noticing you, she shot a disgusted glare and 'tsk' your way. Frustrated, you thought, 'That rude bitch- Not only did she cut in line, but she also gave you a look like you were a turd on the incredibly clean streets of heaven!'

This time, you were determined to speak your mind to her;

"Whats your problem?" you question her with frustration evident in your tone.

"Excuse me?" she retorts, disdain dripping from her voice.

"I'm asking, what's your issue with me? Our first encounter, you flat out implied I didn't belong in heaven. Seriously, for what, for being gay? Firstly, that's bullshit because my worth as a person shouldn't be based on my sexuality. Secondly, it's just plain homophobic. Isn't heaven supposed to be all about accepting thy neighbour? So instead of treating me like I'm beneath you, how about an apology for our last interaction, Miss off-brand Kanade?" You lay it all out, determined not to let her disrespect slide this time. She was to blame before, but allowing it again would be on you, ‘and that wasn't going to happen.’

"Oooooh, cat fight!" remarked the golden-winged Angel, treating your dispute as some form of entertainment. Also 'cat fight', was he fucking serious?! That term left you thinking, 'misogynistic asshole!' in response to his words.

"Do you even know who you're speaking to?" the woman questioned, exuding a sense of superiority.

"Yeah, tear that bitch a new on, Lute!" the golden-winged Angel chimed in.

"I don't 'lute,' and if you were truly that significant, I would’ve. But it sure as hell doesn't seem to be the case!" you retorted with a touch of spite, placing extra emphasis on her name.

The shop as a hole gasped at the mention of the ‘H word’.

"I’ll have you on that I hold the title of Lieutenant of— in the Heavenly Army. And as one of God's warriors, I deserve respect from someone of your, let's say, slightly above dreadful mortal soul status," she declares, almost slipping up and inadvertently revealing the existence of exterminators.

"Sure thing, 'heaven warrior.' Firstly, when did we ever need an angel like you? It's been peaceful here. Secondly, I couldn't help but notice that slip-up. I don't know your real occupation, probably still military judging by your mannerisms, but certainly not some simple member of this 'heaven’s army,'" you respond, now sure that she's concealing her true job from most of Heaven's population.

"You insolent, miserable, lower life form! Consider yourself fortunate that your meager good deeds in your pathetic human life landed you here. Otherwise, I would have had the pleasure to—" she began, but was abruptly interrupted by her 'companion' or perhaps 'boss.' "Chill out, danger tits," he calmly stated in a tone vastly different from his earlier goofiness. The shift in his demeanor was genuinely unsettling.

And her attitude swiftly transformed; she composed herself and turned to face him. "I apologize, Adam, sir. I allowed my emotions to take over and stepped out of line," she said, directing her apology not to you but to her boss.

With that, the two individuals departed, leaving you to independently apologize to your fellow angels for the disturbance.

Was that the final occasion you heard or saw them? No, because not even a month later, here you were;

Another fun aspect of heaven was its schools, designed for souls who aspired to study on Earth but lacked the opportunity or had their lives cut too short to complete their educations.

Another facet of this scenario allowed the souls of teachers or individuals aspiring to aid in unfulfilled dreams to volunteer for assisting with the children's education.

That's why you found yourself present today, supporting Miss Asiimwe with her fourth-grade anglophone class during a spelling bee. Just as the classroom door swung open, an unmistakably loud and obnoxious voice rang out, "What up turds, big bro Adam's in the house!"

Your day took a turn from a wholesome one contributing to kids' education to a shitty one, because if that ‘pompous jerk Adam was here, she sure would also be—‘ "Oh, it's you again," Lute remarks to you, her voice less harsh than the last encounter but still carrying a hint of bitterness.

Truly, ‘It was a waste for her to be so beautiful with that kind of attitude’. Despite her rude remarks about your sexual orientation, you may or may not find her attractive—perhaps not the wisest choice, and you were aware of such. But hey, after all, dominatrix existed, and they get paid handsomely to insult people. So, ‘is it really that unconventional to be into her?’

Yes, it very much so was. However, before having the chance to delve into those thoughts, Lute abruptly snapped her fingers right in front of your face to divert your attention.

"What are you doing here?! And a quit staring at me like that!" she demanded, replacing her fingers with her face, now uncomfortably close, and you could feel her breath on your face.

"Um, well— I'm assisting this classroom's teacher, something I've been doing since week one in heaven, so you're not kicking me out," you replied with a defensive tone, slightly taken aback by her question but drawing from your previous interactions.

"I never claimed I would, chill out, mortal soul. You shouldn't project the stress of your inadequacy as an inferior being into this classroom's atmosphere. Stress spreads easily, and you wouldn't want it affecting the children," she declares with authority, though her tone and gaze had some gentleness in it.

Truth be told, she might have found herself drawn to you. It was a difficult pill to swallow, given her blatant homophobia and the fact she found the thought of ‘her’ being attracted to a woman absolutely absurd.

Upon initially glimpsing your figure and sensing a certain fire within her, her instinctive response was to be rude to you.

"You mentioned you've been assisting here since your first week. How frequently do you come by?" she inquires, attempting to initiate casual conversations with you. By now, she had acknowledged that you weren't to blame for her attraction. While you might be the source, her draw toward women wasn't dependent on whether she found you hot or not.

"Well, I try to stop by at least twice a week. I believe having familiar faces during learning helps children feel safer and more supported," you admitted, surprised that she's engaging in small talk.

"I completely agree. Having a trusted adult present during learning builds a strong foundation for children's education, especially for the younger ones," she adds, gazing ahead at the classroom where the children have transitioned from spelling to playing with Adam.

"Leave it to the man-child to get along with kids," you joke to yourself, watching how effortlessly Adam bonds with the children. They're engrossed in a game involving knights and kings, with Adam, of course, playing the role of the king.

To your surprise, Lute chuckles at your remark before quickly composing herself. "Well, he is the father of humanity," she states, a faint smile appearing at the corner of her lips.

"I guess I can't argue with facts," you reply, your own face lighting up with a smile at the sight of the joyful children.

After that day, your meetings with Lute became a regular occurrence. Whether it was the joyful atmosphere of children immersed in learning or something else, she grew quite friendly with you over the course of two months. Your interactions even extended beyond the school, evolving into outings to cafes and amusement parks.

Today was one of Lute's off-duty days. You weren't exactly sure why heaven required an army, but you refrained from probing too much, especially during your hangouts, which were focused on enjoying each other's company rather than discussing work.

Currently, you were at CheeLand, the largest amusement park in all of heaven, offering rides for both the faint-hearted and adrenaline junkies alike.

You leaned towards the gentler side when it came to this type of amusement, while Lute embraced the thrill. That's why you found yourself anxiously gripping your seat’s restrains as the cart ascended the rails, anticipating the impending drop.

Your white-haired friend had successfully egged you on, convincing you to join her on the ride. Despite calming yourself in line, once the ride began, all your anxiety rushed back;

Lute, growing excited as the carts continued to climb up, remarked, "This is going to be so fucking fun! Can't believe you were such a baby about it in line." Her teasing tone shifted as she noticed your terrified expression.

Softening, she grabbed your hand and reassured you, "Listen, you'll be alright. The rides are completely safe and secure. Plus, I'm here with you." Her last sentence was emphasized by a comforting squeeze of your hand, prompting you to turn and look at her. "And worst case scenario, you're already dead, so there's nothing to be truly afraid of," she joked, easing the tension slightly.

But then came her next words, reigniting panic. "Okay, get ready, we're almost there." Glancing forward, you realized, "Oh, shit." She was right, and in an instant, the drop arrived. Both of you screamed at the top of your lungs throughout the entire ride…

You emerged from the ride, your head still a bit foggy and your voice hoarse from screaming, with Lute holding your hand.

As you both walk towards a nearby bench for a moment of composure, she remarks, "See, wasn't so bad."

"The fuck it wasn't!" you retort. Just as she's about to tease you for your reaction, you abruptly pull her into a tight hug in a serge of emotions. "But thanks for being with me. I doubt I could have even mustered the courage to join the ride lineup if you weren't here. I'm really grateful you're with me," you whisper softly.

She was startled by the contact, causing her to freeze momentarily. Although her initial instinct was to pull away due to nervousness, she recognized this as a vulnerable moment for you. Awkwardly, she hugged you back and gradually melted into the embrace.

After 5 minutes, the reality of the position hit her, and nerves kicked in. "You're welcome, now get off me, you weirdo," she insists, pulling away from the hug. However, all you can do is smile at her. Despite her attempt to maintain a front, she can't help but crack a smile too. 'She actually enjoyed how close you just were,' but that was something she kept to herself.

At some point in time, you had even overheard her referring to you as her friend to her boss, Adam, who questioned her sudden shift from his side to yours. Her face turned beet red as she defended you—a sight you wouldn't have expected from her at all.

However, that flushed look she harbored became increasingly frequent over time. You had become accustomed to her mannerisms and the way she expressed emotions, often lashing out due to difficulty in self-expression.

You had grown familiar with what brought a smile to her face, what upset her, and especially what left her flustered. By then, you had realized she liked you based on her behaviours, yet it seemed she hadn't recognized the romantic nature of her feelings.

Aware of her confusion, especially considering her upbringing and training, you knew the absence of romance in her education left her clueless about such emotions. Despite this, you chose to let her navigate these feelings on her own. It wasn't your place to impose that you were better aware of her own emotions than she was.

Yet, you played a role in guiding her toward this realization by incorporating more physical gestures, of course, always within her comfort boundaries: holding her hand more often, offering more frequent hugs, ensuring there was some form of touch between you two.

A common occurrence was when you walked together, either with your arm around her or your pinkies linked.

Her flushed face became so habitual that seeing her without it seemed unusual; the red tint became her typical expression when spending time with you.

Take, for instance, that day when you visited the newly opened restaurant on 'Holy Avenue.';

Opting for a Caesar salad, Lute aimed to play it safe in case the other offered dish didn't appeal to her taste. However, as she munched on her food, her gaze kept wandering to your dish, which seemed quite appetizing.

She attempted to deny her desire for a bite, but after spending so much time together, you had become adept at reading her emotions.

Acknowledging her unspoken request, you picked up a small portion with your fork, gesturing for her to join in. Initially embarrassed, she hesitated to refuse, but a single pleading look and she relented.

Her face flushed from the intimate gesture, the question of ‘why was she getting so worked up over your friendly act’ lingered in her mind as she finally took the bite-size food portion. The fact that she found you visually pleasing wasn't the answer she sought. Her feelings were deeper than mere physical attraction.

This realization was further confirmed as she spent the entire night unable to sleep, her mind consumed by thoughts of your hangout and the fact that you had fed her.

Tossing and turning, she found herself questioning the nature of your relationship: were you friends? Yes, that was obvious. Were you a couple? No, definitely not. Did she want you to be more than friends, an item perhaps? "Uuh, fuck," she groaned into her pillow as the realization hit her that she had developed feelings for you.

By now, it seemed like everyone and their mothers were aware of Lute's feelings, evident in her actions toward you. Not only had she begun reciprocating your physical advances, but she also initiated some herself.

Whether it was greeting you with a warm hug after a week apart, including you in her imposed outings with Adam, or playfully wrapping an arm around your waist during these occasions, her actions spoke volumes.

She'd whisper sweet jabs about her boss into your ear, leading to fits of laughter. Adam, in response, would roll his eyes at your intimate gestures, teasing Lute for being too obvious about her affection.

Despite her embarrassment and denials of any romantic feelings, you knew better than to take those at face value.

Yet besides the deep connection you shared, she struggled to express her feelings toward you. Accepting that she liked you had already been a significant challenge. Therefore, the idea of asking you out was currently off the table.

She needed to communicate her sentiments without uttering a word, and that's where today came into play—Valentine's Day.

Lute had dedicated the entire previous day and night to baking the perfect sweet, chocolaty treat for you. Not being accustomed to baking, she faced numerous trials and errors before getting it just right. Now, the moment had arrived for her to present these treats to you.

Having texted you to meet her at 'Wings Caffe' around 10, she patiently occupied a table since 9:30 a.m. following your confirmation text.

Initially, her plan was to simply hand you the chocolate, letting you make assumptions and agreeing when you eventually concluded that she liked you. However, things didn't go as planned, and nerves took over;

"Aww, that's so sweet, Lute. Thank you, really. I didn't get anything today, since y’a know, single as a Pringle," you remarked, pointing to yourself. "These chocolates mean a lot. By the way, they look fantastic. Where did you get them? I'd love to buy more for a snack," you inquired, holding the heart-shaped box.

"Made them," she mumbled, visibly embarrassed by your compliments.

"Really? Wow, I didn't know you baked. Maybe I'll come over to your place more often and have you whip something up for me," you begin. The implication of spending more time together tugs at Lute's chest, but your last sentence hits her hard. "I'm so grateful to have a friend who's skilled at baking and willing to make me things," you say as you start munching on the treats.

'Friends'—that's right, nothing more. It appears she couldn't rely on the heart-shaped box or the chocolate with words of affirmation in pink sprinkles to convey her feelings. If she desired more than friendship, she would have to be honest about her feelings this time.

However, true to her defensive nature, instead of clarifying the true reason behind giving chocolate on the day of love, she merely went along with your characterization of it as a friendly gesture.

"Yeah, I guess you're lucky to have a friend like me, someone so good at everything," she boasted, her voice proud, yet her expression betraying a hint of sadness.

Noticing the inconsistency, you set the box down on the table to free your hands and gently took hers. Meeting her gaze directly, you squeezed her hands for reassurance. "I wanted to let you work things out at your own pace, but we're not making any progress," you began, and she looked at you wide-eyed.

"I like you, Lute, and I know you like me too," you stated frankly. Before she could employ her defense mechanism, you added, "I'm not saying we have to start dating right away. I understand if you're not ready for that. But please keep in mind, as long as you don't outright reject me, I'll keep trying to pursue a relationship with you."

Upon hearing those words, Lute sensed the release of all the built-up stress and fear of rejection.

A newfound confidence surged within her, making her bold enough to grab your face and plant a bold kiss in plain sight for everyone at the café to witness. "Fuck yes, I'll be your girlfriend," she declared as she pulled away.

With a simple "Now, let's get out of here," the two of you stood up from your seats, leaving the café behind as her apartment became your new destination.

Upon reaching her place, things escalated rapidly—like, really rapidly. Mere seconds after stepping through the door, she was all over you.

Passionate kisses, hands exploring every inch of your body, fingers grabbing at whatever they could find. Nails scratching and digging, teeth occasionally biting at your skin when her mouth left yours.

Given the speed with which she undressed you, it seemed like she had envisioned this scenario for quite some time.

Before you knew it, you were lying on her bed, completely devoid of clothing, and that's when she began to work her magic;

Squirming within her grasp, she held your thighs down while eating you out. Breathless, you questioned, "I thought you were a homophobe before we met. How are you so good at this??" The overwhelming sensation of her tongue left you in awe.

You can practically feel her grin against your lips as she responds, "Yep, I was. But after developing a crush on you, I did my homework. Figured it be useful at one point or another. Though, ‘didn't think I'd be that good on my first actual trial.”

"Please don’t stop" you croak out between pants.

“Don’t worry, I won’t." she promised, increasing her rhythm and pressure.

As she continued to please you, you couldn't help but wonder what changed in her. This was way different from her usual flustered self. ‘Was it the time spent together? Or maybe the touch? The combination of both?’

Regardless, you decided to focus solely on the present moment, losing yourself in the sensations coursing through your body. Lute showed no signs of slowing down, proving her dedication to satisfying you.

Eventually, you reached climax, shouting her name as you finally released, your wings fluttered and your essence coated her tongue. Her response? She swallowed it down greedily, moaning around your pussy. When you finally fell back onto the bed, panting heavily, she climbed up beside you, her breasts pressing against your chest.

"That was... intense," you managed to utter between breaths.

"Glad you enjoyed it," she whispered, nibbling on your earlobe.

As you settled down together, Lute traced gentle circles on your stomach before trailing her fingers along your inner thighs. Her thumb brushed against your sensitive folds again, teasingly circling your tight entrance. "Do you want more?" she asked softly, her voice husky with desire.

You nodded weakly, unable to speak coherently yet.

Without further delay, Lute positioned herself between your spread legs again, positioning her own pussy just inches away from where she had been earlier. Lowering herself slowly, she began to rub your clits together, creating a new wave of pleasure that reverberated throughout both of them.

With each thrust of her hips, she increased the pace until you were moving in sync, your moans growing louder as you neared another orgasmic peak.

Your bodies intertwined, united in shared ecstasy, leaving neither wanting nor regretting your decision to explore the concept of a sexual relationship together.

Lute's hands grabbed onto your hips, holding you steady as she picked up speed, driving them both closer to climax. Your nails dug into her shoulders, leaving shallow crescent marks in the soft flesh; evidence of your shared intensity.

You could feel the familiar buildup starting again, your entire body tensing up in anticipation. With one final powerful thrust, Lute groaned loudly, her orgasm crashing over both of you like waves crashing onto shore. In response, you let out a high-pitched cry, joining her in blissful release.

Breathing heavily, you stayed in the same position for several moments longer than necessary, savouring the afterglow of your passionate union.

Eventually, you separated, both panting heavily. Lute rolled off of you, lying next to you on the bed, her chest heaving rapidly.

"That was... incredible," she panted out, reaching over to grab a nearby water bottle and handing it to you.

"Yeah, it was... Although I have to admit, having sex on the first day of making it official is pretty needy," you playfully tease her.

"Oh, shut up," she retorts before planting a kiss on your lips once you've swallowed your sip of water.

This relationship was going to be wilder than what you had anticipated…

Thanks anon for requesting!

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.

Tip Me (Ko-Fi) & And support my art account @maviscarlettie

You can now commission me!

Tag list for Lute: @sunflower-lilly @charlott30045 (I still used your request because it was one that fit with what I had already received)

Reblogs help!!! (Request Are On Pause)

[nekrosdolly]

albert wesker hcs (re0-1)

hi!! first post! let me know if it's ooc or not, i'm trying. tysm for reading! tags below.

cw; fluff, angst, hurt/no comfort, follows the events of re1. boyfriend! wesker bc he's so sillypants and i love him lol. not proofread, written under the influence, whoops! somewhat clingy but mostly cold reserved bf wesker. jill and chris mentioned, valenfield implied.

petnames used; primrose, little dove.

boyfriend wesker!, who's not always the most affectionate but makes sure to always have a hand on you at all times, unless you're apart. he's always holding either your hand, your waist, or the back of your neck. his hands are slightly calloused, cold, and smooth from both his lines of work. you'd shudder upon initial comment, mutter something about his fingers being "cold as ice," and melt into his touch anyway.

boyfriend wesker!, who, when you're away, sends you updates on his day so you're not worried where he's gone. if he's reading a book, he'll send you a line that makes him think of you, be it a fact or something a character said. when he's working and you're at home, he's frequenting his Nokia 6150 in his office to see if you've messaged him. he's private about your relationship with all his coworkers, Umbrella or R.P.D.

boyfriend wesker! who hasn't told you about his job at Umbrella, and likely won't for your own safety. He can't risk getting his little dove involved, especially if you're not the science type. he only tells you things you'd want to hear about his position at the R.P.D.- stories of Chris being an astounding meathead and Jill's crush on him. he'd update you on developments because he knows you like that sort of thing, even if you say you don't. off-handedly, he'd mention Barry's family, and look at you with some odd kind of longing.

boyfriend wesker!, who is incredibly protective deep down, but refuses to act out or make either of you look foolish. if you're getting hit on, he'll intervene on your behalf and simply pull you aside. he knows it's not your fault. he could never be mad at you, his primrose.

boyfriend wesker!, who has a very big soft spot for you. while he's cold with anyone else, you are the only one he'll let some of his walls down for. he feels bad for lying to you about certain things, but he has good intentions- or so he thinks.

boyfriend wesker!, whose feelings are stronger than he thought they could be for someone. his heart yearns for you at all times, and though he doesn't say it often, he would kill for you. his own feelings scare him at times- when he wakes up in the middle of the night, you by his side snoring away, and wonders how he got here in the first place. it's those times he might pull away and try to close himself up again.

boyfriend wesker!, who pushes you away when he can't handle his feelings. he reprimands himself for not being in control of himself- that's all he really wants, control. he tries to keep himself at a good distance so you're content with him, so you trust him. he doesn't realize he's manipulating you, nor that he's hurting you. he doesn't think he can.

boyfriend wesker!, who, when you end up leaving him (as you should), doesn't bat an eye. although it does hurt, he knows better than to beg, god forbid cry, at your feet as an attempt to keep you for longer. he has never been that kind of man. instead, he wishes you well and helps you pack your things. of course he's curious as to why you're leaving and in due time, he'll make all your suspicions come to life. soon enough. he'll confirm your worst fears- that he's been hiding from you, lying to you, for your entire relationship.

ex-boyfriend wesker!, who, months after the breakup, isn't over you. still sleeps with a shirt you left behind used as a pillowcase for a pillow he hugs to get comfortable. he'll wake up in the morning at times and feel around for you, his heart sinking in his chest at the reality of your absence. when he gets ready and stares annoyedly at himself in the mirror while he brushes his teeth. imagines it's you slicking his hair back with a light-feeling gel instead of himself. if he thinks about it for too long, he can hear you making little comments about how long his hair has gotten or how soft it is. his lips press into a thinner line at that, and his jaw clenches.

ex-boyfriend wesker!, who carries out his plans to get rid of S.T.A.R.S. and wonders what you'd think of him now after he's tried to kill his employees (and almost succeeds. that damn Chris.) you wouldn't look at him the same, but the twisted and frankly delusional part of him hopes you'll tell him that it's okay. that you'll still kiss him how you used to, or touch his arm and reassure him that he didn't do anything wrong, that he's justified in his actions. although these delusions would only carry him so far, as he needs the real you- not just an apparition of you.

[brucewaynehater101]

I hc Damian sees dick as more of a father then Bruce, my reasoning is that when Bruce was dead, dick was there for him and Damian already mourned that father and accepted dick as his dad.

and since in my brain Bruce causes most of the issues between the brothers, in a au where Bruce wasn’t rescued all the bats are happy and friendly to each other, dick is the older brother who’s basically their dad, Jason who’s very caring yet also insists he’s not (he has anger issues as well), Tim who can’t seem to fully grasp how much everyone cares for him but it’s getting better, and Damian who actually acts his age and not like a 20 year old man with murder problems (he still has murder issues but dicks made him realize that’s wrong)

There was probably quite a bit of an adjustment period in the beginning. When siblings are faced with a change in dynamics so that they need to rely upon each other instead of being pitted against one another, there tend to be big blowups and fights until they get the hang of things.

In this AU, it would be a bit hard to wrangle all the batkids into getting along. Does Tim never find that portrait that starts his search? Did Bruce actually die? Does Alfred find the portrait first and burn it so his family can finally be free (very ooc, but a cool concept)?

Tim finding out Bruce is alive is like a match near gasoline for him. He destroys all of his current relationships (justified or not) to save his dad.

There's also the grief aspect. The Battle of the Cowl could be seen as just the kids trying to find footing with the changes and the grief of loosing their dad.

It doesn't matter how much of a bastard Bruce is in this AU, the kids will still grieve his loss. If he was just unredeemable, they wouldn't have hung on so much. It doesn't matter how much Bruce hits them, verbally abuses them, manipulates, or abandons them when he turns around and acts like a good dad. He has good moments. That's the confusing and complicated aspect of it.

Bruce is the type of man to remember a fact his kids mentioned once off-handedly and distracted. He'd remember when they mentioned a childhood toy they loved but could never find again. He would spend months tracking down that company and hiring them to make they toy again if they didn't have any on hand. There's so much time, effort, and money he would put into such a notion, and he wouldn't make a big deal about it. The kid would probably just find it in their room one day and know it was Bruce.

Then he would turn around and try to convince the kid that all of their friends are out to get them and they can't trust anyone.

This AU would be hard to manage because only Dick is at the stage where he would be willing to give up on his dad. With the fallout of Robin, Dick moved on from unconditional love and belief in Bruce. He went to anger and hurt. He slowly healed those pains, but they were changed. Dick couldn't go back to how they were, but ultimately still loved his dad. Jason's death shattered their relationship. Even after Tim interfered, Dick would never be able to forgive Bruce for that. In the comics, he confronted Bruce about not being told about Jason's death. Bruce's response? He screamed at Dick, hit him, told him he shoulf have never had a partner, told Dick that he would've fired Jason in a few years like he did Dick, and then told Dick to hand his keys to the Manor to Alfred on his way out.

Bruce and Dick can go to therapy for years to work on their relationship, but Dick will never trust Bruce with his siblings again. He can trust the man on a battlefield, but he can't trust him at home.

Dick's love to Bruce, I hc, would turn to apathy, longing, and bitterness intermingled with spurts of reluctant fondness.

Jason, on the other hand, is pissed at Bruce, but he has too much passion to just let him go. It's a transition stage from love to anger to indifference. Through his reactions and actions during the Battle of the Cowl, it's obvious he still cares about Bruce somewhat. The opposite of love isn't hate. It's indifference. If he didn't somewhat care about Bruce, his death wouldn't impact him so much. I personally feel that the incident with Penguin and Gotham Wars is where Jason starts to become indifferent instead. To hate Bruce is to want to change him. It's to want him to be better because you know he can be. To be indifferent to him (outside of horrible actions the man commits) is to know he won't change. It's to give up on him.

Jason still remembers getting ice cream on patrol, sharing popcorn on the couch, reassuring promises of protection, and the laughter he could startle out of his dad. His anger and aggression against Bruce is because he believes that his dad could kill the Joker. He had believed that Bruce would have. Regardless on whether it was the right thing to do or whether a younger version would have wanted that, Jason had faith in Bruce. He ultimately considers his father to be a good guy. Perhaps someone that hurts Jason, but still a good guy.

Dick doesn't regard his father as such. He knows better.

The other kids are still at the love stage, where they rely on Batman and Bruce to be decent and a hero.

Tim may have complicated feelings about Bruce being his dad (how credible that is especially given their history), but he trusts Bruce to make the right decisions. That gospel has been shaken a few times, but it still holds.

Damian is still a child. Capable, kind, fierce, and strong, but still a child.

Cass was given the mission of the Bat by Bruce. He has shown her love and kindness others have not. She can see what he feels and intends to do even as he hurts others. He does not kill.

Barbara has Dick's back before she has Bruce's. Barbara is independent. She does not have the confidence in Bruce that the others do.

I hope Duke is enjoying his time with his parents free from bat drama.

Anyways, I do think the Bats would be better off if Tim hadn't found proof of Bruce's continued existence (it is not his fault that Bruce returned to do horrible shit. He is not to blame). Without it, there might not have been as big of a fallout between Tim and everyone else. There would have been lots of drama and fights between the remaining Bats, but they would eventually settle into a healthier unit.

If anyone wants more about any of this, feel free to send me another ask with what parts you'd like elaborated.

[fancyfade]

Regarding your cool anaysis of dick vs bruce as batman in their relationship to robin, even if morrisons dick can be argued to be wildly ooc(and aren't they all, at the end of the day, including our own) i definitely think you did a good job at pointing the follow up behaviours they've developed. That was so fun!! I'd love to barge in and add, if you dont mind. XD

Also also, dick won't be overprotective or pushy with robin when the responsibility of batman rests on his shoulders, not only because he is busy and trusts damian to handle himself(which, if it wasnt a comic we'd all cry child neglect, but come on, it is, that's basically half the fun) but also because he /was/ robin. He led a team of teenagers when he himself was barely one, for him, robin is a hero, not a sidekick. If damian says he's fine and dick looks at him and he looks fine, well, who is he to tell the hero that he's wrong? He'll be a shoulder to lean on but he won't impose his own convinctions upon a colleague unless they're in active danger/a threat.

They doo take care of the active threat and deal with the consequences. At the end of the day, bruce is a parent who became a vigilante well into his adulthood, no matter how much he says robin is a parter, that's still his kid after the dust settles on the criminal. Dick is a child soldier surrounded by a community of violence and years of carefully built camaderie, he will look robin in the eye over ice cream and tell him to try not to get paralyzed next time, 'that's what i did when i was your age' style. We smile about dick being more emotionally adjusted than the rest, but in any other team, he's still 'the bat' for a reason.

I am very curious to hear your opinion about why dick doesn't necessarily trust damian not to kill enemies, especially since bruce does trust him enough in that regard. Is it dick knowing damian better, is it him not being that attached yet to his new brother, is it bruce being blind and trusting, is it experience with uncontrollable teammates shaping both of their perspectives? It's funny to joke about 'i'm more worried about his kidnappers' but that sure says something about how he still doesn't see damian as a controlled asset, the way he would've seen tim as his robin or even jason past his first year back.

Thank youuu, it's great seeing your opinions!!

Thank you for your ask! I am glad to hear you liked it.

I do think that Bruce’s POV as a parent and as someone who became a vigilante as an adult (even if he was training earlier) does help explain a lot of the difference between him and Dick. There’s another potential to consider I will get into later

We smile about dick being more emotionally adjusted than the rest, but in any other team, he's still 'the bat' for a reason. … . Dick is a child soldier surrounded by a community of violence ...

However, I really wouldn’t call Dick a child soldier, both in terms of well if we’re saying it’s fun and fine that Dick was not very concerned about Damian due to genre conventions it’s important to be consistent, and because Batfam has an actual child soldier in David Zavimbe. Dick going on patrol after school and basketball isn’t the same as being kidnapped as a kid and forced to kill people and treated as a dispensable tool. It's not even the same as Cass's childhood where she was trained and raised as a weapon (just in a very comic-book-y, no parallels to the real world way). Dick pretty much had a normal childhood outside of vigilanting, so for the conventions of the genre he is not a child soldier.

I also wouldn’t say that on any other team he’s still ‘the bat’. I guess he’s the bat in that the writers are more likely to play up his problem solving skills and angst, but I mean like :P in terms of both training -- Donna was trained by the Amazons since she got rescued, Kory trained by warlords of Okaara, Joey trained by his mom (who also trained Deathstroke), can go on – and in terms of traumatic/unusual childhoods -- Garth was a feral child who was abandoned to die of exposure per Atlantean tradition and found by Arthur at like what eight? Ten? Kory was trained to fight knowing she would fight in the war to try to protect her people from being conquered and enslaved and then she herself was traded in as a royal hostage to be a slave for 6 years – Dick does not really stand out that much. He is truly just some guy in the superhero world – a very competent guy, but that is required for being a superhero.

I am very curious to hear your opinion about why dick doesn't necessarily trust damian not to kill enemies, especially since bruce does trust him enough in that regard. Is it dick knowing damian better, is it him not being that attached yet to his new brother, is it bruce being blind and trusting,

With regards to Dick not trusting Damian, I don’t think it’s due to him knowing Damian better – Damian really doesn’t try to kill many people, it’s not like Dick has to constantly interfere. it's more of Dick's assumptions about Damian that he acts on (The only person I can think of Damian trying to kill in general patrol/anti crime stuff is dropping Hush off a building and Dick didn’t make a huge deal about that) Bruce also does not trust Damian fully, he gives him lectures about appropriate force and no matter what Damian feels as if Bruce doesn’t trust him when they just start working together in Batman and Robin 2011 (because he doesn’t tell him about Nobody). The main difference is while Dick and Bruce both view Damian as their responsibility, Bruce views Damian as his responsibility as a father – he has to give him good morals (which we can discuss Damian already has morals, but I’m talking about how Bruce feels) and skills so that if he dies, Damian is fine, he has to protect Damian – whereas Dick views him primarily as a potential crimefighting partner/mentee– he’s got a lot of baggage to keep out of the field, he has to train him to do investigations, but he’s not looking to impart life advice and it’s his job both to protect Damian and to protect people from Damian.

For more stuff – I assume a good part of Dick’s perspective (besides what I just mentioned :P) it is just due to Dick perceiving Damian as kind of annoying, kind of a brat, still a kid but definitely dangerous. But his child-like behaviors (in this case, being aggravating) are not things that make him more vulnerable in Dick’s POV, and he’s still got the ex-assassin to deal with. I have seen some interesting discourse with regards to “if Dick did try to treat Damian like Bruce does (being overprotective, treating him more like a son) Damian probably would have ran away and not tolerated it” and I agree, though I don’t think that informed Dick’s decision for how he approaches Damian. Dick’s dealing with his own trauma and issues and he is trying his best in terms of he knows someone has to be responsible for Damian, though eventually their banter gets more friendly and less annoyed and they approach each other more as brother’s or closer to peers. I said I’d get back to the earlier point on Bruce and Dick earlier on, and that is if I remember correctly there are some interpretations that also show Bruce initially treating Dick as a little brother and more of as a friend than a son, and I think that parallels Dick and Damian’s later dynamic, around Bruce Wayne: The Road Home era where we see them easily bantering and having fun while Batman and Robin-ing. But you are right that definitely at first, Dick does not treat Damian like he would another Robin.

[m-musings]

Winging It: Buggy The Clown X Winged! Fem! Reader Pt. 1

A/N: bless the one piece fans for getting me into the show and introducing me to this man because he is just so FJSCBKGHLKDGW, like you feel me? anywaysss, first time writing for one piece, let's do this whoooo!

(part 2 here! :] )

Word Count: 2.7k Summary: Buggy asks (Y/n) to help out with an unusual task, chaos ensues. Warnings: a dude being a creep to reader later on and a little bit of ooc on Buggy's behalf, but other than that, just some good ol' fluff!

It all started out as a perfectly normal day.

After another busy day on the Big Top and another successful "show", Buggy had given the majority of his crew the day off to do whatever they wished.

As soon as (Y/n) was able, she unfurled her feathery wings and flew up to the crows nest, needing to get away from the madness down on the deck for a while.

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) took a deep breath of the refreshing ocean air as the breeze blew softly against her face.

Having joined Buggy's crew a few months earlier, she had never expected her life to change as much as it did as fast as it did.

(Y/n) originally came from a life as the sole inhabitant of a tiny island in the middle of the East Blue. One day, the Big Top and its crew happened to be sailing by and stopped to search the island for any supplies they could find.

Fearing the worst, (Y/n) grabbed her baseball bat and and flew out of her hut to stop the pirates from getting any closer.

After fending off a few of the crew members, Buggy swiftly stepped in to try and diffuse the situation, being unusually calm and level headed as he addressed (Y/n).

Realizing her wings could be useful to him in shows and in pillaging, Buggy invited her to join him and his pirates instead of struggling to keep herself alive and entertained on her little islet.

With a hesitant but quick decision, (Y/n) agreed, asking for some time to pack some personal items before Buggy and the rest of the crew led her back to the boat, intent on celebrating a new member of the gang.

Quickly learning the ropes of pirating and climbing up the ranks of the crew, (Y/n) eventually became a high ranking member, just behind Mohji and Buggy himself.

She even managed to become friends with the quirky captain, to the the slight disbelief of the rest of their crewmates. In addition, after getting to know each other a bit more, that friendship slowly turned into a (huge) crush on (Y/n)'s part, but neither Buggy nor anyone else needed to know that part.

And even though the start of her pirating adventure was a little strange, (Y/n) could never say she missed her old life. Being apart of the Big Top Crew gave her the family and friends she was sorely missing on her island.

Reveling in the quiet of the air, (Y/n) smiled to herself as she thought of her new existence as the Big Top's resident trapeze artist, grateful that she now had the world at her fingertips, plus people to fight beside and fight for.

As she reminisced upon the past, her eyebrows perked up when she heard ropes creaking from somewhere down below.

"Hey doll! Figured I'd find you up here!" Grunted a voice from beside her.

She cracked one of her eyes open to see Buggy climbing up the rigging, the tail of his bandana flowing behind him.

"Hey, Cap! Did you need something?"

"Nah, not right now. But I might once we get to the island we're headed to. If the winds are good, we should get there in the next 2 days."

"Oh, yeah, I nearly forgot! What's so special about this island anyway? Isn't the stop just for us to stock up again before we head out to meet Alvida?" (Y/n) questioned, sitting down on the floor of the crows nest as she scootched over to make some room for Buggy.

"That's part of it, yes, but the main reason we're stopping is because a couple of our cannons were destroyed in our last fight with the Marines. There's a few weaponsmiths in a city there that are willing to sell us a few new ones if we can negotiate a good price for both of us."

"So we need them to agree to our bargain so we don't get demolished by another battle on the way to meet Alvida?"

"Exactly! You're one smart cookie.

"Hmm, I try." She shrugged with pleased grin, her wings fluffing out in sync.

"You sure do, (Y/n/n). Anyways, I came to see if you would be willing to come with me, just to make sure nothing fishy happens while I'm not paying attention. Maybe pretend to be my arm candy to trick them, y'know?"

"Me? Can't someone, like, Cabaji do it? He's got way more experience with this stuff than I do."

"He's gonna be in charge of the ship while we're gone. Plus, I mean, you're the only one who would make spending time with dumbasses like these smith guys bearable. You would save me of literally dying of boredom."

"Pfft, I doubt that" Answered (Y/n) as she rolled her eyes at the clown's exaggeration.

Buggy chuckled, smiling softly at the girl as he rested his arm atop her shoulder.

The action causes a very subtle blush to appear on her face, which she tries to keep hidden by scratching at her neck.

"So whadya say, huh? Wanna go on a little adventure with me?"

(Y/n) sighed with a sputter of her lips before turning to answer the blue haired man.

"Sure, Captain, I'll come along. It could be kinda fun."

"Aww, thanks (Y/n), you're the best! Even better than Mohji! But don't tell him that." Whispered Buggy as he jokingly cupped his hand over his mouth.

"You're ridiculous, Captain." she laughed softly, bumping her shoulder with his.

"And I take pride in that. It's all I got goin' for me, after all." Chuckled Buggy, who shrugged and leaned back in reply.

(Y/n) gave him an amused grin in reply before shifting her eyes back towards the big blue ocean that surrounded them.

The two then sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before the voice of another crewmate called out for Buggy from somewhere on the main deck.

"Well, sweets, duty calls. See you later, huh?" Buggy said with a salute before he made his way back down the rigging.

As he disappeared from sight, (Y/n) bashfully put her head in her hands as she tried not to overthink the nickname her captain had given her.

"Oh, damn.... what have I gotten myself into?..." (Y/n) questioned herself as she placed her head against her knees.

After a few more minutes of sitting by herself while she scanned the horizon, Buggy yelled out, calling the crew back to the deck for another show.

With a small shake of her head, (Y/n) stood up, stretched, and flew down to gather with the rest of the troupe.

Just as Buggy had said, the Big Top had reached it's island destination a couple days later. Thankfully, there wasn't many Marines in this town, meaning the crew could go into town to stretch their legs on land and get any supplies they might need for the rest of the trip.

Still on the ship, (Y/n) sat below deck as she tried to find something other than her circus costume to wear, wanting to be able to blend into the crowds better or just in case a high ranking Marine or someone from the World Government showed up and recognized her alongside Buggy.

Rummaging through her chest of clothes, her wings fluttered as she finally found a simple black tank top and a pair of jeans.

After placing the clothing on her bed and gliding over to a nearby vanity to do some basic makeup, she heard a knock at her door while she applied some light rouge to her face.

"Come in, it's open!" She announced as she grabbed another brush from the vanity drawer.

Looking behind her using the mirror, she saw a familiar orange pirate hat pop into view.

"Are you decent?" Buggy said as he entered the room, his disembodied hands floating in front of his face to cover his eyes

"Yes, Captain, you can open your eyes if you want." (Y/n) giggled as she put on some finishing touches of makeup.

Popping off one of his fingers to glance at the girl, he gasped lightly as he finally saw her face.

"Wow, you look fantastic!" Buggy said with an impressed nod.

"Really? It's not much different than my usual casual looks..." Claimed (Y/n) as she timidly placed a hand upon her cheek.

"Either way, angel, you look good. But I suppose that's beside the point. I just came to tell you to be ready to go by sundown. I'll be waiting on the dock, Don't be late." He winked before leaving the room.

With a huff as she tried to compose herself, (Y/n) stood up to get dressed and mentally prepare herself for the night.

Within just a few short hours, the sun had finally set upon the island, and right on cue, (Y/n) left her quarters and strutted over to the deck railing to see Buggy down on the pier waiting for her.

"Ah, (Y/n) there you are! I was worried for a sec, thought you were gonna chicken out on me!"

"No, I'm here. Someone has gotta keep an eye on you!"

"Well, I'm glad that someone is you. Shall we go?" Buggy motioned as (Y/n) climbed down to meet him.

"Yes, we shall, mon capitaine!" (Y/n) quipped as he held her head up high with a light giggle.

"C'mon, let's get going." Chuckled Buggy in response as the two made their way out of the marina.

After a minute or so of idle chatter about their days, (Y/n) spoke up with a question she had been meaning to ask.

"What do we do if they don't agree to give us the cannons for the price you set?"

"Well If that happens, I guess we'll just have to... wing it!" Buggy quipped as he gave the girl a sly grin.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny!" (Y/n) fake laughed as she playfully smacked Buggy's back with one of her wings.

"Thank you! I am funny!" Buggy declared as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, careful to avoid the feathers on her back.

(Y/n) bit her bottom lip in reply as she moved her gaze to the cobblestone ground beneath them.

"So where exactly is this weapons store at?"

"Not far, we come to this place every so often so I know the quickest way to get there."

(Y/n) nodded in acknowledgement as Buggy began to tell her some fun stories about his past adventures here.

About 15 minutes later, Buggy made an excited noise as he realized where they were.

"Ok, (Y/n/n), the weaponsmiths store is just up ahead, I'll lead you there." He announced, taking her hand until they found the place they needed to be.

As the door swung open, a little bell rang overhead, signaling to the two workers that someone had entered the shop.

"Gentlemen! How's it going, am I late to the party?!"

"Ah, you must be the guy that contacted us the other day! Nah, you're right on time! Did you bring cash?" Asked one of the men who (Y/n) assumed was the shop owner.

Buggy rolled his eyes as he pulled out a large stack of berry from his pocket and placed it onto a nearby counter, in front of the younger man with black hair.

"Perfect! If you follow me, I can show you the canons we currently have on stock." the older of the two men said, leading Buggy past a few rows of shelves and cabinets to another part of the store.

Just before they rounded the corner, Buggy and (Y/n) gave each other a reassuring nod.

After a brief moment of looking around at the various weapons and items scattered across the room, (Y/n)'s attention was grabbed by the sound of someone behind her clearing her throat.

She slowly whirled back around to see the younger of the two shopkeepers looking her up and down.

"Hey gorgeous, how ya doin' on this fine evening?" The man who stayed at the counter smirked, looking at (Y/n) with something dangerous flashing in his eyes

"Fine, thanks..." (Y/n) giving him a polite smile

"So, you uh, doing anything tonight?"

"Just getting those cannons, then we're headed back out."

"Aw come on, you couldn't stay for... say, one drink with me at the bar in town?"

"Um, thanks but no thanks, I've got stuff to do back on our ship." Responded the girl as she took a few steps backwards

"Are you sure? I could give you a real fun time, cutie!" Chuckled the man as he walked around the counter to stand in front of (Y/n) with his arms crossed.

"Yeah, positive. Sorry." (Y/n) finalized as she started to walk away, but was near-instantly stopped.

"Oh, come on, pretty birdy, leave that idiotic clown guy and spend the night with a real man huh?!" The man cackled as he grabbed onto (Y/n)'s wrist and pulled her into his chest.

"Ow! Let me go!" Hissed (Y/n) as she began to tug against the mans grasp, flapping her wings slightly to give her a bit more leverage.

The man laughed crudely before grabbing her other arm and trapping her against a shelf.

"Hey, maybe that stupid pirate will let me keep you! Who knows, maybe we can see all of the things those pretty little wings of yours can do!"

With a disgusted scoff, (Y/n) went to grab a small dagger she had hidden in her left pocket, but before she could even find it, a white-gloved hand shot across the store to grip the black haired man's collar.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?!" Buggy inquired, his voice menacingly low as he appeared back from the other side of the store.

"Uh, well, you see I- it's um-"

"Answer me!"

"C'mon, It was a joke! I didn't mean anything by it!" The man tried to convince the Captain as he let out a nervous laugh.

"Didn't seem very funny to me..." Buggy stated as he glared daggers at the shopkeeper.

"You're right, it wasn't, I- I apologize-" he stammered with a fearful whimper before Buggy pushed him back against the counter with a growl.

"If you ever try to touch anyone on my crew again, I'll personally make sure you lose both of your hands, got it?!"

"Okay, alright, I'm sorry! It won't happen again, sir!" The man agreed with a frightened look at the pirate.

Buggy scoffs irately, throwing the man onto the floor before picking the berry back up and stuffing it back into his pocket.

"C'mon, (Y/n), we're getting the hell outta here." Buggy spat as he gingerly grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the shop.

Confusedly sputtering as they clambered back down the road, (Y/n) stared at Buggy with wide eyes.

"Slow down a little, please!" (Y/n) said, stumbling as she tried to keep pace with Buggy.

With an apologetic and upset glance, Buggy released her hand before she hurried over to walk side by side with him.

"Buggy, what the hell was that about?!"

"Don't worry about it, we just needed to leave that shithole before I killed someone."

"That hasn't stopped you before!"

"I'll just say I'm feeling generous tonight then." Snarled Buggy, growing more and more enraged as the pair walked.

"We need to go back, we need those canons or we're screwed!"

"We can get the canons somewhere else, we need to go."

"But what was that all about?! Sure, the guy was a douche, but I could have easily just pushed him off with my wings or cut him with my dagger. Why are you being so weird about this?!"

"Because no one fucks with my girl!" Buggy shouted, spinning around to come face to face with (Y/n).

"W-wait, wait... Your girl?..." (Y/n) asked quietly, freezing as the meaning of his words sunk in.

Buggy halted his rant as he turned to fully face her, finally realizing what he had said. Running a palm through his blue locks, he dejectedly shook his head as he struggled to find the right words to say.

"Just forget about it, okay?! We have to get back to the ship..." Buggy muttered as he continued to stomp away.

As the blue haired pirate angrily marched down the street, (Y/n) stood frozen on the edge of the town, not knowing how to feel about what her beloved captain had just revealed to her.

[mysticallystilinski]

ROSES [ coriolanus x fem!reader ]

desc. EVERY DAY CORYO GAVE YOU ROSES, BUT ONE WAS DELIVERED TO A SONG-BIRD

has : angst, jealousy, unloyal coryo, ooc!coryo (kind)

a new day meant a new delivery of roses. coriolanus stopped by your house away from the capital to hand deliver his fresh picked roses from grand’mam. she has especially started to plant just for you, since she knew it was coryos specialty.

a knock was brought upon your door at exactly 12:00 pm sharp each day. this day in hand, coryo had been running a little late. you knew it was the arrival of the hunger games tributes so he had tons of pressure upon him.

you had decided to venture to try to find him, he was supposed to be back at your place by 11:00 am. your first stop was the train station. it had been worn down, and only used in the most certain of cases. it was known that all the tributes would have been dropped off there and then taken away.

coryo wasn’t supposed to be there, he was supposed to be with the other mentors at the capital. you arrived at the station to find guards surrounding the platform. they knew you as you were the daughter of panems president. you approached them slowly, not batting an eye. “hello miss y/n, what are you doing here?”, they questioned.

you were faced with a problem, either lie to them, or face the truth. “father said i could take a look at the tributes before they are set up” you responded. it was an obvious lie, but they had to believe you. “go right ahead”, they motioned towards the platform.

farther down the platform, you could see a tall figure with bleach blonde hair. you smiled in relief as coryo was just waiting for his tribute, lucy gray. the train slowly approached and came to a sudden stop. the guards stayed positioned at their designated places. a few of the guards opened the train doors to reveal the tributes.

out stepped lucy gray, the song-bird. her long black hair flowed in the wind, and coryo had stopped in his tracks. your face contorted when he was met with her. a bright smile appeared on his face as he dug into his pocket. “for you”, he stated handing over a bright white rose. she had plucked a petal from its bud, “when i was little, my momma used to bathe me in butter milk and rose petals.”

lucy slightly smiled when faced with the memory. her smile caused coryo to light up at the thought. another tribute fell upon the platform from the height of the train. “goodluck with that gorgeous”, she smirked. she took the rose from him and headed off to where the guards directed her. he stared at her as she made her way past you and gave a devilish smirk.

it was known that you and coriolanus had been together, even by the tributes. it wasn’t a coincident that lucy had been flirting with coryo. he locked eyes with you as soon as lucy had brushed her way upon you. you looked down when you heard footsteps approach you at once.

the color of your dress, a light pink became blurry as your eyes filled with tears. you felt coryos hand grasp upon yours. you lifted your head up to be astonished with an angry coriolanus. “what are you doing here”, he hushed. he tightened your hand and took you to a private corner. “i was just trying to look for you.” he looked around as your voice cracked through your sobs.

“why did you give her that rose?”, you looked up at him. “i was just trying to be nice y/n, she is my tribute after all”, he whispered harshly. your eyes swelled up as your tears began to dry. “i have to leave y/n, i need to go help lucy.” you felt him ungrasp your hand. you looked up upon him, and stared into his eyes.

he unlocked eye contact with you and was gone in a flash. you saw him headed towards the carriage full of tributes. when the guards weren’t looking, he hopped in and the back was instantly shut. it was hard dealing with coryo sometimes, you thought while standing alone in the corner. he isn’t the same as he used to be.