#strangely enough it doesn't have a smell

[ashekirk]

Of all the food in my 2012 time capsule I expected to explode, it wasn't the soup can. But that's what exploded. Okay.

There's literally a 2009 jar of iSnack 2.0 in there that is still doing fine. Why did you do this to me, tomato soup 😩

[yuujispinkhair]

You are watching Sukuna. And Sukuna is watching his brother's girlfriend... Until he is watching you.

-> This is Part 2 of this drabble

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Fluff + angst with a happy end. Word count: 4k. Angst, lots of pining, unrequited love at first, mentions of alcohol. There is no cheating. Sukuna and Reader get their happy end. Minors don't interact.

This small series was inspired by this beautiful art by @nayasch.

Also, for the best experience, I recommend listening to "Is there somewhere" by Halsey while reading this. I had it on repeat while writing. Divider @/hitobaby

It's a spilled drink that brings you closer to Sukuna.

Just a moment ago, you were holding your breath as you walked past the tattooed, pink-haired boy who makes your heart race, too shy to even look his way when you were so close to him. But then someone knocked into you, and now you are standing there like a deer in the headlights, your hands wet, your shirt ruined, staring wide-eyed at the big red stain soaking the front of your crush's white t-shirt.

You faintly hear some guy behind you apologizing. You have no idea if he is apologizing to you or to Sukuna. All you know is that Sukuna is glaring daggers at him,

"Get out of my sight before I punch your stupid face!"

And then those beautiful maroon eyes snap to you, and you forget how to breathe. You wished for Sukuna's gaze to find you, dreamed about it all the time. Hoped he would notice you, hoped that fate would hand you a chance to get closer to him. But now that it happens so unexpectedly, you don't know what to do. A muttered "S... sorry." leaves your lips.

Sukuna's gaze travels from your face down to your shirt, which is just as soaked as his. And that attractive lopsided smirk appears on his face, the one that gives you butterflies, especially now when he is standing right in front of you, close enough to touch. He shrugs,

"Wasn't your fault. I'm gonna change into a fresh shirt. What about you? Want one, too?"

You barely manage a nod before Sukuna starts walking away, and you quickly follow him to his room with your heart beating up to your throat.

He doesn't bother turning away but just pulls his soaked shirt off right in front of you, making your stomach flutter and your face heat when you see his firm abs and chest adorned with those sexy tattoos.

He laughs softly, probably seeing how flustered you are by his bare chest. But he doesn't comment on it and hands you one of his clean shirts, a white one like the one he was wearing before you spilled your drink over it.

He leaves the room after slipping into a fresh shirt, leaving you alone in his room so you can change in peace.

You sit on his bed afterward, pulse fluttering as you feel the soft fabric of Sukuna's shirt on your skin. You bring it to your nose to inhale its scent. It's fresh out of the laundry, so it mostly smells just of fabric softener, but it was in his dresser with his other things, and you can very faintly smell his cologne on it, making you close your eyes and sigh softly, overcome by a longing so bad it almost makes you choke up.

It's ironic. As if fate is taunting you. Here you are, sitting on Sukuna's bed and wearing his shirt like a girlfriend would. But he is already gone again, back to the party, where he will gaze at his brother's girl with the same longing in his eyes that fills yours, too, when you look his way.

Your hand reaches out to touch Sukuna's pillow, fingers sprawling over it, while you stare longingly at the dent where his head rests every night. What you wouldn't give to sleep in this bed with him. Feeling his strong arms around you, your body snuggled against his. Holding him, loving him, showing him that he can have all those things he longs for.

If only things were different.

It's hard to pull yourself away and leave Sukuna's room again. You feel a strange mix of emotions as you walk back to the party. Exhilaration upon getting Sukuna's shirt and being in his room, mixed with that familiar heavy feeling in your chest because you know he isn't yours, and he probably never will be.

You enter the living room and see him leaning casually against the wall in his fresh shirt, tattooed arms crossed over his chest, biceps flexed enticingly, head tilted back, a bottle of vodka pressed to his lips as his eyes are once again on his brother and his girlfriend, who are dancing in the middle of the room.

You leave the party shortly after to go home and crawl into your bed, still wearing Sukuna's shirt, hugging your pillow to your chest, wishing it was him.

Is he alone in his bed, too? Does he yearn, too? Does he, too, think about the one he craves but cannot have?

The thought makes your heart throb painfully.

Another party, another evening of watching the boy you secretly love from your safe space across the room. His gaze is unsurprisingly on the girl standing next to his brother. Yuuji says something to her, and she laughs happily and hugs him tightly, nuzzling her face against his shoulder. And you see Sukuna's jaw tighten, see his Adam's apple bob as he gulps hard, see the burning jealousy and pain in his eyes.

You blink against the tears threatening to well up in your eyes. His pain is almost palpable to you, but no one else seems to see it. No one seems to care enough to really look at Sukuna. They all just see Sukuna's mocking smirk and the arrogance and roughness he wears like armor. They don't see the pain in those beautiful maroon eyes. They don't see that his heart is aching.

Maybe you only recognize the signs because you feel the same way.

Maybe it is this all too familiar pain you see on his face that makes you brave tonight. And after all, you have a good excuse to walk up to him and stop in front of him, tilting your head to look up at his beautiful face, and say softly,

"Hey, Sukuna... thank you for the shirt you gave me last week. I wanted to give it back to you."

You don't really want to give it back. You have slept every night in it since last week, snuggling into it, inhaling the faint traces of Sukuna's scent, dreaming about having him in your bed, hugging him, feeling the warmth of his body seep through the thin fabric of the t-shirt.

But you reluctantly put it in the washing machine yesterday, folded it neatly, and put it in your bag to return it to him tonight.

You hand him the shirt, and Sukuna takes it, his large hand with the tattoos and various rings brushing over yours, sending the butterflies fluttering in your stomach like crazy. You know how nervous you must look when you smile a shaky smile at him,

"Thank you again. That was really nice of you."

There is surprise in his eyes as if no one ever tells him he is nice. Maybe he isn't. Or maybe people just don't see the small, nice things he does sometimes. Maybe he doesn't want them to see.

"No problem, princess."

You lie awake that night, in your own shirt this time, but with Sukuna's low, velvety voice playing over and over in your mind, calling you princess. You know it means nothing, but it still makes your heart race and a giddy smile lift your lips.

You clutch your drink tightly as you watch the boy you secretly love from across the room, just like you do every weekend. If only you weren't so shy. If only you were brave enough to walk over to him without needing a reason like giving back his shirt.

You sigh longingly as your eyes trail over Sukuna's face. Longing is what you can see on his face, too, as his gaze is on the happy couple at the other end of the room. Your chest feels so tight that it hurts.

I want to take the pain away from you, Sukuna. I wish I could be the one to make you happy.

But you are standing here, and he is standing over there with his eyes on someone else.

A sad love song starts playing and the air in the room feels suffocating all of a sudden.

Maybe you should leave.

What are you even doing at this party, where you are surrounded by so many people but feel more alone than at home, where it is only you and your bed?

What are you doing, coming here week after week just to stare at a boy you can't have? Hurting yourself when you see him looking at someone else. Drowning in desperation when you realize week after week that he is just as alone in his pain as you are and that you will probably never be able to break through his walls.

He is in pain, and you are in pain, and nothing will change about that.

Might as well leave and never come back. Stay away from those stupid parties. Find other places to go to. Maybe after some time, you will be able to forget about pink hair and black tattoos and maroon eyes.

Right when you push yourself off the wall, Sukuna turns his head. That beautiful maroon gaze lands on you, and all you can do is stare back at him.

Time seems to slow down as you and Sukuna look at each other across the room. You are sure he can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the pain in your eyes, can recognize it for what it is because he carries the same pain in his eyes.

Maybe that shared pain is what makes him slowly walk over to you. He stops in front of you, his typical teasing smirk on his lips, but the same sadness still unveiled in his eyes.

For a moment, you think he will ask you to go to his room with him to fuck. And it fills you with dread because you know you would just be a rebound. You would just be someone he uses for sex to take his mind off the girl he really wants. It would mean nothing to him. And yet, you know that you would say yes. You would go with him, would lay down in his bed, would let him take everything he needs from you until you have nothing left. And in turn, you would take anything he is willing to give you, too, even if it was just meaningless sex. Because even if he just used you to distract himself, it would still be better than nothing. Even if it were just impersonal sex, without any feelings involved from his side, you would still go with him just to feel his skin on yours.

But to your relief, the question never comes. Instead, he says in that calm, low voice,

"You look like you aren't enjoying this stupid party either. Even the pizza tastes disgusting. I'll make something myself. Wanna join me?"

You follow him as if you are in a daze. Everything around you is blurred as you walk behind Sukuna's tall figure, following him to the kitchen, your head spinning, making you feel light-headed even though you barely drank any alcohol.

You sit on the kitchen counter while he cooks. Studying his beautiful face while he is focusing on the pan in front of him. The pain in his eyes is not as burning anymore while he stirs the vegetables and adds various spices. Maybe this is why he wanted to come here. Maybe cooking distracts him enough to ease the pain at least a little.

Those maroon eyes you love so much meet yours while Sukuna tells you how tired he is of those parties all the time and those people he cannot stand in his apartment. He doesn't say what he really means, but you know. How tired his heart is of the longing, of the pain, of having to pretend like he is ok.

You tell him he is a good cook when he hands you a spoon to try, and a smile flickers over his face. A genuine smile, not the typical smirk. And it makes you fall. Makes you tumble down an abyss that you know you will never be able to get out of again. As if you needed to fall even more for him. As if you weren't already too in love with him.

You know you are lost. Lost in everything that makes Sukuna Sukuna. You thought you knew him and already fell in love with what you knew about him on a surface level. But now you have caught glimpses of the boy beneath the surface, and it makes you fall even deeper in love with him. Makes your chest hurt even more. Makes your every fiber scream with longing.

He hoists himself up on the kitchen counter next to you, handing you a plate and grabbing one for himself, too. You sit in silence, eating side by side, while the sounds of the party dimly drift to your ears through the closed door.

You praise his cooking skills some more because you are too nervous to think of anything else to say and because you like the way his lips curl in a smile again and how the pain in his eyes is almost completely gone when he turns to look at you.

He tells you where he got the recipe, how he adjusted it over several weeks, and that he enjoys cooking a lot. The way he says it doesn't sound like he is simply doing small talk, but rather as if he is letting you in on a secret. As if this is a side of Sukuna that people aren't supposed to know.

And you smile softly at him, hoping it conveys that you are grateful that he lets you share this moment with him.

His thumb brushes over the corner of your lips to scoop up some stray sauce, making your heart beat so fast you think you will black out.

When you leave an hour later, you tell him that you really enjoyed yourself,

"Thank you for letting me try your food. It tasted delicious... and I..."

You want to tell him how happy it made you to spend time with him, just the two of you in the kitchen. That you will always keep those moments in your heart like a treasure. But you are too shy to say those words out loud, and so you trail off sheepishly, smiling nervously at him and nodding awkwardly.

"Bye, Sukuna. Have a nice rest of the night."

He watches you closely with those beautiful maroon eyes, a thoughtful expression on his face, saying nothing. But he holds the door open for you like a gentleman in those old movies.

You can still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin when you lie in bed with a smile on your face and a warm feeling in your chest for the first time after coming home after one of those parties.

You are standing in a corner, taking a sip from your drink as your gaze wanders to the tall figure leaning against the wall across the room. Tattooed face and arms, pink hair, and maroon eyes.

You are prepared to see his gaze glued to his brother's girl. You are prepared to see the familiar longing and pain on his face. But you frown when you realize Sukuna's gaze isn't staring at a fixed place but instead wandering slowly through the room, scanning it as if he is searching for something or someone, even though the object of his pining is right in front of him. And yet that gaze slips over her and continues to wander.

Until it lands on you.

It catches you so off guard that you spill your drink again. This time, only over your own shirt, but you cannot bring yourself to look at the mess. Your eyes are on Sukuna, watching wide-eyed as he walks toward you, brushing past the girl you thought he would look at without so much as sparing a glance at her.

He looks amused when he takes in the mess on your shirt. A raised eyebrow, a boyish grin lifting the corners of his lips, a long tattooed finger pointing at your chest,

"Need one of my shirts again?"

You are back in his room a few minutes later, changing into one of his clean shirts while he has his back turned to you, making your heart beat so fast that you fear he can hear it thundering in your chest.

He leans against his desk while you sit on his bed, finding it hard to breathe with how nervous you are. With how lovesick you are for him. The longing to hold him so bad that you feel dizzy from it.

And he talks to you, tells you about a new recipe he tried, about a cooking show he watched, about this and that. Like he wants to keep you here in his room. Like he wants a reason to stay here and not go out to the party again. Like you are his escape.

His shirt feels soft on your skin, his bed so tempting under you. You grab a small pillow to hug to your chest, and the butterflies flutter like crazy when you smell Sukuna's cologne wafting off it.

He jokingly asks you,

"Did you spill your drink intentionally so you could get one of my shirts again? Liked it so much, huh?"

And you chuckle and tell him,

"Well, the end justifies the means. That shirt you gave me last time was really comfy. I slept in it a whole week."

You feel your face heat up when you realize what you just admitted. But Sukuna just laughs, and those beautiful maroon eyes sparkle like two precious jewels.

He tells you to keep his shirt this time.

"So you have something to sleep in."

And your voice wavers nervously, but you still tell him:

"You are really nice, Sukuna. Do you know that?"

He scrunches his nose at that,

"That's something I've never heard anyone tell me before. Are you sure you got the right Sukuna?"

"Yeah. In my eyes, you are nice. At least when you want to. You give me your shirts, and you let me try your self-cooked meals, and you hold open doors and talk to me and... make me feel less alone on these parties."

The last part comes out in a whisper, your emotions threatening to choke you up as you are overcome by your feelings for him. Being so close to him, spending time with him, seeing him smile and joke around with you. Sharing those moments with him that seem like something special.

Sukuna's eyes widen, an emotion flickering over his face that you cannot place. Surprise, maybe, but also something else. Something much softer. He looks away for a moment, staring at his wall that is adorned with pictures of pretty landscapes and bright red shrines and an old man standing in the middle of two pink-haired boys.

When he looks at you again, there is a vulnerability in his eyes you have never seen before. His voice is soft when he tells you,

"You make me feel less alone, too."

Sukuna kisses you for the first time at a party two weeks later. And it is not a kiss in the middle of the party. It is not a kiss in front of his brother and his girlfriend. It is not a kiss meant for someone else. It is not a kiss to make someone jealous. It is not a kiss only for the show.

No, it is a kiss that is real. In his room, where he sits next to you on his bed. It is soft and slow. Sukuna's hand is cupping your cheek gently, his lips brushing over yours slowly as if he is scared to hurt you or hurt himself. As if he is scared that he is fucking things up. Or maybe as if he fears he doesn't deserve this.

It's a kiss that makes you fall apart and makes you whole at the same time.

You kiss him back as tenderly as he kisses you. Slow and gentle, your eyes closed, your hand landing on his neck and caressing the short stubble of his undercut. You kiss him like you are writing poetry for him with your lips against his, putting all the words you are too shy to say into this kiss, all your longing for him, all the tenderness you feel for him, all your love. And he kisses you like he is a drowning man who finally reached the saving shore.

You walk out of his room side by side. Sukuna holds your hand, tugging you along to the kitchen to cook another homemade meal he wants to share with you.

Your heart feels like bursting with happiness. No traces of pain are left in Sukuna's eyes when he hands you a plate of stir-fried rice. And that smile is lighting up his face again. He is so beautiful, and you tell him so without worrying that he will make fun of you.

He kisses you again when he walks you to the door, right there in the hallway where anyone can see, his lips lingering against yours before he pulls away as if he doesn't want to let you leave.

You smile at him and nod when he tells you to text him once you are safely home.

"I like you."

Sukuna tells you in a soft voice while you are straddling his lap, currently cleaning some food experiment gone wrong off his tattooed face with a wet kitchen towel.

Wide, terrified maroon eyes look at you as if their owner thinks he just handed you a knife for you to ram into his chest and twist in his heart. It makes your own heart throb painfully even as you feel elated to hear that your feelings are reciprocated. Seeing this rough boy so scared. Scared of his feelings, scared of admitting them. Scared what you will do with that confession. Because all he knows about love is that it is painful and that it hurts and never gets returned.

You want to cry for him. For the boy who, until now, only knew meaningless sex and hopeless longing for what he thought he couldn't have. For the boy who believed that love wasn't meant for someone like him.

The first tear slips out of the corner of your left eye as Sukuna's large hands sprawl over your waist possessively, and he repeats his words despite the fear so evident in his low voice, the words nothing more than a hoarse whisper,

"I like you so fucking much."

Your hand with the towel is hovering in midair, your lips twitch, and finally, you cannot hold back anymore, and the tears spill over, running down your cheeks in hot rivulets. A broken sob falls from your lips, followed by a choked-up sounding:

"I like you too."

Sukuna closes his eyes for a moment, long black lashes fanning over his skin, a beautiful image that makes you drop the kitchen towel and cup his cheek with your hand. Your thumb brushes tenderly over the tattooed lines on his skin when those beautiful eyes open again and look deeply into yours.

He is braver than you are. Adding more to his confession. Making sure you can destroy him fully, if you like,

"Do you know what I mean? I.. I think I am in love with you."

"Sukuna..."

Your voice is thick with tears, but you continue despite the fresh tears welling up in your eyes, despite how much you are trembling in his arms,

"I... I am in love with you, too. Have been for months. Or maybe I was in love with an idea of you back then. But now I know the real you, and I fell even deeper in love with you."

You can see in his eyes that he half expected to get turned down, and it breaks your heart for him, even while happy laughter bubbles out of your trembling lips.

You cling to him when he kisses you, never wanting to let go again. Filled with the need to show him that this love won't hurt. That it won't slip through his fingers. That love can be good and safe and give him peace. That he deserves love, too, and that you are here to love him with everything you have.

It's another Saturday, and you are at Sukuna and Yuuji's apartment two hours before the party starts, helping them with the preparations. Yuuji's girlfriend is there too. You feel a bit awkward, a bit uneasy when you see her. But she smiles a genuine smile at you and greets you with a hug.

You work next to her for an hour and realize that she probably never was aware of Sukuna's feelings. She might look at Sukuna, but she doesn't truly see him. She only sees Yuuji. Her gaze is filled with love when she looks at him with an expression on her face that lets you know she has found her person.

You turn around to glance at Sukuna, a mix of fear and hope in your heart. What you see makes your chest fill with warmth. Sukuna isn't looking at Yuuji's girl. He is looking at you. Looking at you with the same expression as Yuuji's girlfriend when she looks at Yuuji. And you know that Sukuna has found his person, too. 

You wake up in Sukuna's bed with his tall, firm body behind you, just like you do almost every morning now. You feel his lips against your skin, trailing gentle kisses up and down your neck. His voice is still hoarse from sleeping when he murmurs,

"Mine."

His arms tighten around you and pull you even closer to him. And you answer with a smile audible in your voice,

"All yours."

Your cheeks almost hurt from smiling so broadly when you feel Sukuna's matching smile against your neck and hear his whispered:

"Just like I am all yours."

I cried so much while writing this and listening to the song and looking at the beautiful fanart and the sadness in Sukuna's eyes. This version of Sukuna is my Achilles heel. I love this broken mess of a boy so much. I want to love him so bad and make him happy :(( This story hit me so hard, and the kissing scene is one of my favorite scenes I ever wrote. I am so emotional right now, but also so happy to share it with you.

Thank you so much to everyone who commented on the first part of this story, wishing for a happy end. I needed a happy end too, and I am so glad I wrote this!! This story is very personal. I could relate to Reader 100%, and I got the impression that a lot of people could see themselves in her, too. So I hope you could enjoy your happy end with Sukuna, just like I did 🖤

[meo-eiru]

I must thank you for creating Silas because he’s awakened something in me. I’m curious as to what would happen if he decides to… devour his darling… (wink, wink nudge, nudge). I know you mentioned earlier how he would start feeling lewd if his darling chose to… devour him… for his pleasure. Would the thought cross his mind to return the favor both as an experiment to see how his darling’s… feminine fluids… affected him as well as to see her face and body contort in pleasure as he… goes down on her… the thought has been haunting me all day. — 🦚

Silas likes touching you, even though he doesn't understand his feelings he seeks pleasure from you without realizing it. And he also wants you to experience the same warm and tingly feeling.

With how interested he is in your fluids it's only a matter of time before he tries to bury his head between your legs. Maybe he noticed a change in your smell, picked up on your arousal or noticed you were a bit wet while changing your clothes. He would ask what that is curiously and even if you tell him to don't mind it he'll pull your underwear down while saying stuff like "It's okay you don't have to hide it from mama" "I'll just check you don't have to be shy about showing it to me"

He would first look at it in fascination, It's not the first time he has seen you naked but he didn't know that area could get wet like that. It doesn't seem like pee... It's more sticky and see through... He wants to try touching it!

He'll pick some up using his fingers against your protest and inspect it a bit. It's a much different texture than your other fluids how incredibly fascinating. Then before you can say no he brings his fingers to his mouth to taste it. It's just so interesting, it's not a taste he's used to. It feels a bit salty and sticky... He needs to try more.

Before you can react he puts his head between your legs saying he'll help clean you up, but really he just wants more of this new and mysterious juice. His tongue is weird. It's surprisingly longer than a human's, pinkish and much smoother. It's such a strange sensation but no matter how much you push his head he won't budge.

Silas is just so excited! The more he licks you clean the more fluid you produce, it's amazing! It's like you're willingly giving him more for him to consume❤️❤️ Ahh he wants more more more. It tastes so good, feels so good in his mouth. You've been letting out such adorable noises since he started, he didn't know he could make you feel good like this. He'll definitely take a note to do this more often.

But what if he goes deeper? They've been coming from inside your body, so if he goes deeper he can taste more right? Soon enough he's tongue deep in you lapping your juices like a thirsty dog. Oh god this feels so weird, his tongue goes so deep inside, you feel so full. It also has such smooth texture, you don't think you can hold back for much longer.

Before long you're cumming as you moan in pleasure. How embarrassing. Meanwhile Silas is in heaven, for some reason suddenly the amount of fluids increased and he's having a blast drinking it all up. Your voice has gone up too, ah he loves this so much.

He might continue and overstimulate you for another hour, until he notices you're getting too dazed. He just assumes he did a good job taking care of you and you need some rest. It's ok! You two can continue after you wake up❤️❤️

[sunderwight]

SV fic where Shen Yuan's status as a body-snatching entity is revealed before the Immortal Alliance Conference can happen.

Maybe the system suffers a glitch while some unforeseen side quest is active, and suddenly Shen Yuan's status is revealed and some of the other peak lords he's with seize the opportunity to exorcise his spirit and put Shen Jiu back in his place.

Shen Yuan has mixed feelings about this development, needless to say. On the one hand, it's kind of not actually that bad? He got caught out like a week away from the IAC and the necessary Abyss plotline, so at least like this, he's managed to give Luo Binghe a slightly better time on Qing Jing for the past few years and equip him more capably to survive the Abyss, but he also doesn't have to personally throw him down there. That's the silver lining.

On the other hand, everything else about this situation sucks! He got attached to his life as Shen Qingqiu, dammit! And now he's been revealed and branded as some kind of horrible demonic spirit thing, and he was rather painfully expelled (even though he wasn't even there willingly in the first place), and so he's been reduced to some a kind of sparkly ghost light hovering on the fringes of existence, highly susceptible to being harmed if any more righteous cultivators get it in their heads to disperse him!

Which is better than just being catapulted back into his rotting corpse in the other world, but not by as big of a margin as he'd like.

Basically, in terms of his ability to influence the world Shen Yuan has been downgraded back to "read only" status. He finds that he can manifest himself in places that he's already been, or around people he has a particular affinity towards, but they can't perceive him and he can't communicate or even do much more than some minor poltergeist type activity. Which he is cautious about anyway, because if he gets caught around Shen Jiu, Shen Jiu is going to disperse him with extra prejudice.

Unfortunately, nearly everything Shen Yuan cares about is in Shen Jiu's orbit.

So he can only watch, metaphorically gritting his teeth as the newly-restored Shen Qingqiu kicks Luo Binghe out of the bamboo house, burns all the bridges that Shen Yuan painstakingly rebuilt for him, refuses point blank to let Liu Qingge help with Without-a-Cure, resumes and even begins taking more frequent trips to the nearest brothels, and neglects his duties to turn into a paranoid wreck as if he half-expects Shen Yuan to steal his body back from him the next time he lets his guard down. Corporal punishment spikes back up on Qing Jing Peak.

Shen Yuan is surprised to hear the whispers of dissent, even so. A spirit possessing a righteous cultivator is a pretty damning incident, and there's no way that he could come out of it smelling like roses. And yet, even though his -- Shen Qingqiu's disciples know enough to be circumspect about saying anything of the sort, there are still murmurs and rumblings about how things used to run, not too long ago.

Ming Fan quiets any such talk as soon as he hears it. Ning Yingying scarcely seems to know how to respond to the situation, except to sometimes plaintively insist that she hadn't even noticed much change between Shen Qingqiu's at all. But Luo Binghe...

Well.

Whenever there are mutterings, it often seems as though Binghe is there. Nodding. Whispering. Carefully putting forth suggestions that others barely seem to recognize as suggestions. Shen Yuan only notices because he knows what Binghe's capable of when he decides to be manipulative, and even he finds himself wondering if it's not just a coincidence, something he's imagining, because Luo Binghe hasn't even blackened through his Abyss arc yet.

Even so, there he is, musing carefully on how strange it was that he's heard that Hong Jing hadn't identified any untoward presence in Shen Qingqiu before, how Shizun had never done anything bad to the peak despite all the claims that he'd supposedly been possessed by a malicious entity for years, and wasn't this new Shen Qingqiu acting much more suspicious? Much more malicious? Isn't is the new Shizun who jumps at shadows and talks to people who aren't there, and seems so uneasy in his own skin?

If one had to guess which version was an unstable monster possessing a human's body, and which was the righteous and noble peak lord... ah, well. It's just surprising, isn't it? Luo Binghe would of course never suggest that this new Shen Qingqiu was in actuality the being that had stolen someone else's place. He's surely never second guess the judgment of the peak lords, who claim to have let an interloper among them for YEARS in total ignorance. It's just something to think about.

Alas for Binghe, though a lot of the peak seems inclined to agree with him, he can't win over enough to inspire anything worse than discontent. The "new" Shen Qingqiu does behave a lot more like the one that most of the Qing Jing knew prior to his qi deviation, after all, and it's no mystery why Luo Binghe -- spurned former favorite, now back to being at the bottom of the pecking order -- would be unhappy with the change. Shen Yuan appreciates that this is at least doing a good job of setting up Luo Binghe's altered opinion on his shizun, and he's touched that he made a good enough impression for Binghe to be mad about the sudden regression, but he wishes he could tell Binghe that there's simply nothing to be done about it. That is the real Shen Qingqiu, and Binghe ought to concern himself more with the upcoming conference!

At least, despite being kicked out of the bamboo house, Luo Binghe managed to farm enough good opinion with some of the other disciples during his tenure as Favorite that he doesn't go back to sleeping in the woodshed. Without Shen Qingqiu expressly demanding it, no one would dare, just in case Luo Binghe might regain his status one day. There seems to be an awareness that "evil" Shizun would have made them run laps, but "good" Shizun would now probably whip them half to death in a fit of temper. No one wants to take chances.

Finally, the Immortal Alliance Conference rolls around. Shen Yuan can only watch and cheer Binghe on as best as he's able to, even knowing the probable outcome. And Binghe does so well! He fights bravely but also smartly. When Shen Qingqiu arrives, Binghe doesn't lose an ounce of his caution, though he does still nobly defend his master even though the good feelings between them have dried up. He correctly identifies Without-a-Cure's flare up and silently helps compensate for Shen Jiu's weakness, and sticks by him even though the Original Goods is hardly appreciative.

When the Abyss opens up, and Luo Binghe's demonic seal is broken, Shen Qingqiu seems almost relieved to have this information brought to light. He accuses Luo Binghe not only of orchestrating the invasion of demons at the conference, but of arranging fro Shen Jiu to be replaced too.

"Of course, for a demon like you, summoning some wicked force into this master's body would be easy!" he spits.

Luo Binghe looks bowled over by the accusation. But rather than defending himself, he latches onto it as if it might be some kind of lifeline.

"For a demon like this one... it would be possible?" he echoes.

Shen Jiu hurls more accusations. Of course it is. Luo Binghe is not just any demon, but the most powerful, dangerous, and destructive sort there is. Little is beyond the scope of a Heavenly Demon's power, or wretchedness. Luo Binghe must have uncovered his heritage and seen a convenient means of ridding himself of an inconvenient master. Wherever that horrid spirit is now, it's probably just waiting for the next chance to leap back in at Luo Binghe's call!

"Shizun's spirit... that spirit from before, it still exists?" Luo Binghe catches.

"As if you don't know. Beast. Even the sect leader could not destroy your minion completely," Shen Jiu sneers.

"And it would be within my abilities to put it back in your body. Instead of you."

"You won't get the chance."

Shen Jiu stabs Luo Binghe before throwing him into the Abyss. Binghe fights back, but he seems reluctant to injure his shizun, even now.

Shen Yuan supposes that such reluctance won't survive the Abyss. Still, it's emotional for him. That such a little kindness could cause Luo Binghe to hesitate, even at this point, it really speaks to the resilience of hope in Binghe's heart.

Shen Yuan's little ghost light almost follows him down. But the Abyss would be too dangerous for him, even as he is now. He'd be a little mote of spiritual energy, easily gobbled up by any number of creatures in that place, if he wasn't just swept up by the chaotic ambient energies themselves. So he can only stay behind and think some very colorful swear words in Shen Jiu's general direction, until the rift closes and leaves no trace of Luo Binghe behind, except for the shards of Zheng Yang.

The shards are left behind. Shen Yuan finds that he has a little bit of spiritual storage space. Just enough to maybe fit all of them, so he goes and painstakingly uses his limited powers to lift up each piece and drop it in. It takes him hours and hours, but luckily the clean-up of the whole disaster is something that will take months. No one seems inclined to go reclaim Luo Binghe's shattered blade or risk getting too close to the remnants of the rift, even closed. So, Shen Yuan manages.

The next few years prove difficult. Shen Yuan finds that it's hard to retain his presence in the world. His little spirit has dampened considerably, and few things seem to perk him back up. He has more troubles following anyone who isn't Shen Jiu now that Binghe is in the Abyss, and Shen Jiu is depressing as hell to spend time around. He's rotten with kids, sucks at teaching, he has no friends, his health is deteriorating, and Shen Yuan has no interest in seeing what he gets up to in the brothels.

But Binghe is definitely coming back, and Shen Yuan wants to see him again.

His patience is rewarded the first time he finds his consciousness drifting, only to snap back to awareness in a place that's not Qing Jing Peak. He instead finds that he's in an unfamiliar patch of wilderness along a river, watching as Luo Binghe fights a small pack of demonic beasts.

It's definitely not the Endless Abyss. Has it been five years already...? Shen Yuan hadn't thought so, but then again, he's not the best at keeping track of time in this state.

Luo Binghe defeats the beasts, but they land more hits and wound him worse than Shen Yuan would have anticipated. The wounds aren't healing as quick as they should either. Was Binghe poisoned? Or is this a remnant of Shen Yuan's own poor teaching, the clumsiness in sword practice he never totally managed to correct leading somehow to this?

He gets it when Qin Wanyue and several other Huan Hua cultivators show up, however, and Luo Binghe manages to play the righteous cultivator who just survived a harrowing battle role to the hilt. It takes him very little effort to get the Huan Hua disciples to take him back with them and help "patch him up", and soon enough Shen Yuan has front row seats to watch as Binghe ingratiates himself with the sect.

Mostly, Shen Yuan is just relieved to confirm that Binghe did indeed survive, and glad that he's out of the horrible Abyss and in a place where he can rest and eat decent meals and be fawned over by his well-deserved admirers. Though Luo Binghe seems colder even than Shen Yuan expected, especially in some places where a bit of charm would serve him better. He declines outright to address the Palace Master as "shizun", even though he accepts the offer to stay as a guest disciple at Huan Hua Palace, and he is abrupt and aloof towards both Qin Wanyue and the Little Palace Mistress, despite their obvious interest in him.

Binghe doesn't seem to sleep as soundly as he should either. At night he often brings out a dream stone, which Shen Yuan recognizes as an amplification tool from the novel, but it seems that whatever Binghe is trying to search for with it is beyond his reach. Sometimes Shen Yuan imagines he can hear his disciple's voice calling Shizun at night. But always, Binghe is asleep, and there's no one in Huan Hua Palace he has deigned to address like that anyway. It's a trick of his own imagination, missing the days when Luo Binghe could call out and he himself could answer.

Things go mostly according to the plot, with a few disruptions here and there. Luo Binghe seems to be lagging behind on the romantic subplots, but rushing ahead on the vendetta against his old teacher. The Trial of Shen Qingqiu takes place at Jinlan City, with demon instigators who work for Luo Binghe accusing the peak lord of colluding with demons and setting him up to seem like he was involved in the sower attack. Shen Yuan knows, from watching Binghe, that the sower thing was mostly taking advantage of an existing situation to frame Shen Qingqiu. Binghe himself didn't have anything to do with Jinlan's suffering, but is obviously not above using it to his advantage.

Combined with Qiu Haitang's testimony, Shen Qingqiu is arrested and locked up where Luo Binghe can torture and dismember him at will.

However, Binghe... doesn't do that?

Instead he swiftly relocates Shen Qingqiu to a prison in the demon realms, and seems to abandon his concerns with Huan Hua Palace and the righteous cultivation sects altogether. He just leaves them to fight it out amongst themselves, as if he's got no concern with who comes out on top, and in the meanwhile he keeps Shen Qingqiu locked up but surprisingly well-treated?

Despite Shen Qingqiu's obvious terror and vitriol towards him, Luo Binghe forces him to eat nutritious meals, and attends to his health problems, and makes no move to injure him at all. He has nothing good to say to Shen Jiu, but he doesn't hurt him. Yet there is something distinctly weird about the whole dynamic, not at all like someone who has decided to keep a prisoner under ethical conditions for moral reasons or something like that.

Shen Yuan's not sure what to make of it.

In the end, Shen Jiu himself illuminates the situation.

It happens after Shen Jiu has rejected food. Luo Binghe tuts and asks if Shen Jiu suspects it would be poisoned. Shen Jiu sneers at him.

"I know it isn't," he says. "You wouldn't poison this body. I know what you're after."

"Oh? Wise Master Shen figured out this much?" Binghe replies, dry as the fucking desert.

"You're keeping me in this condition because you want to put that thing back in my body!" Shen Jiu accuses.

It takes Shen Yuan a moment to realize that Shen Jiu is referring to him. That he thinks Luo Binghe is keeping him fit and healthy for Shen Yuan's sake.

Wouldn't that be going too far just for some old teacher who was nice?! Yes, he knows that he made an impact on Luo Binghe, but it wasn't hard! Shen Jiu set the bar at the earth's crust, clearing it hardly required the kind of effort or devotion that would inspire an entire elaborate scheme purely on Shen Yuan's behalf!

He can't believe it.

But, Binghe doesn't deny it.

In fact he smiles, his expression somehow conveying that Shen Jiu guessed perfectly correct, but also that there's no good it can do him. Binghe has never looked so much like a piece of PIDW fanart before, with some dark and potent rage simmering just beneath the veneer of his placid smile.

"Shizun should not be referred to so impolitely," Luo Binghe counters. "If anyone in this room is a thing, it is this usurper in front of me."

"Usurper?! In my own body? You're mad."

Binghe tuts.

Master Shen should understand that his claim is contested. After all, if one woman gives birth to a child but then casts it into a river to die, but another fishes the babe out and cradles it to her breast -- which woman deserves to be called that child's mother? Just because Shen Jiu was born into that body, doesn't mean he deserves it more than anyone else.

But even if he did, Luo Binghe wouldn't care. He would kill to get his Shizun back. This isn't really so different from that, is it? And there is no love lost between him and Shen Jiu to make him hesitate. If his Shizun disagrees, he may disciple Binghe as he sees fit once he returns.

Shen Jiu points out that Luo Binghe's machinations have ruined his reputation. Even if he gets that creature to possess his body again, there's no way that they could infiltrate Cang Qiong Sect a second time.

But Binghe waves off his concerns. He clearly has thought of this, and has plans for it, but is also not about to be stupid enough to monologue any more at Shen Jiu. Once he leaves, Shen Yuan lingers for a little while, and notices that Shen Jiu actually seems genuinely concerned about what might happen to the sect if Luo Binghe succeeds and gets Shen Yuan put back on Qing Jing Peak.

Of course, Shen Yuan knows he wouldn't actually do anything to harm Cang Qiong, but Shen Jiu doesn't. This is the first time Shen Yuan has seen him actually reveal shades of what might be called a noble impulse.

It's not much, but... sigh.

The thing is, Shen Yuan doesn't really want to steal anybody's body! No one consulted with him the first time it happened! And they sure aren't consulting with him now, either, although to be fair they can't. But he might just have enough ability as a little ghost light to stave off some of this whole process, and he's got to decide if he wants to try. Or if he'll let Binghe have his way, and succeed in pushing Shen Jiu back out and giving Shen Yuan his life again.

Because Binghe will definitely succeed if he really does try. That's how the world works.

And if he did... that might be the only way for Shen Yuan to get his life as Shen Qingqiu back. Which he does want, desperately! He misses it. He misses it both in the general sense of having a body at all, but also in the particular sense of all the things he managed to attain as Qing Jing Peak Lord. As Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Jiu, also, makes a very tempting sacrifice in all this. Shen Yuan frankly hates his guts. Maybe it could have been different, but the fact that Shen Yuan worked so hard to try and make that life better, only for Shen Jiu to just go right back to being an intractable asshole who, frankly, should never be in charge of children ever, rankles! He went right back to mistreating Luo Binghe as well, and threw him into the Abyss, and if Binghe's plan was to violently kill him again as revenge for that then Shen Yuan wouldn't fault him. He didn't fault him the first time. He wasn't going to fault him even when it seemed like he would be the one Binghe was destined to rip apart in justified vengeance.

This is different, though. Shen Yuan wants to fight for the life he longs to be living, especially now when the axe of the Abyss is no longer hanging over him.

But is he willing to actually become the thing everyone else decided he was in order to get it? A body-snatching, malicious spirit?

Shen Jiu is horribly unsuited to his life as Shen Qingqiu. But, it is still his life. Shen Yuan really just managed to borrow it for a while.

Deep down he knows that, even if he would like to ignore it.

So when Binghe finally sets up the ceremony, and Shen Yuan's soul is called back into Shen Qingqiu's body, he hesitates. Shen Jiu is poised like a snarling, wounded animal within the confines of his own body. Even the gentlest tap would knock him back out again. Shen Yuan gets the sense that the system is also there, just waiting and even eager for him to do it. Take back the body, resume whatever quests or directives are waiting for him there.

Shen Yuan, even as fragile as his own spirit is, could crush Shen Jiu's battered soul to dust.

Instead he withdraws.

Binghe tries the ritual again, and again, and each time Shen Yuan feels stronger. But it doesn't matter, because he doesn't want to be an evil body-stealing parasite! He wishes he could just tell Binghe to stop wasting valuable resources on this, especially when Binghe could be focusing on other, more important things! Like building up happy relationships or consolidating his rule of the demon realms or establishing an actual strong foothold in the human world, or something!

Somehow, Shen Jiu figures this out before Luo Binghe does. Of course, he conveys the information in the worst way possible, snidely wondering what Luo Binghe did to alienate "that creature" he's trying so hard to resurrect so badly that it will refuse even the open, glowing invitation he keeps writing for it!

Excuse you, you miserable old man, Shen Yuan isn't avoiding Binghe! He is facing a very difficult moral dilemma and handling it LIKE A CHAMP! Fuck you!

Unfortunately, even though Shen Jiu has decided that Luo Binghe and Shen Yuan were in cahoots about the first body snatch, Luo Binghe knows that they weren't. He also doesn't know that his old Shizun knew full well that he was a Heavenly Demon the whole time. So now he has a lot of doubts to wrestle with, especially give that, despite the consensus of the rest of the world, Luo Binghe is not convinced that Shen Yuan actually is some kind of demonic spirit.

Maybe he's a good spirit that has rejected Binghe for his wretched blood?

But Shizun always said that things like that didn't matter!

So... maybe it's not his blood. Maybe Binghe's actions are what has caused Shizun to forsake him. All the terrible things he did to survive the Abyss, and the machinations afterwards, framing Shen Qingqiu and imprisoning him, setting himself up as a demonic ruler... all of that.

Binghe entreats his Shizun to forgive him. Or even if he won't forgive him, to still come back. Binghe will... stay away, if that's what Shizun wants. Just so long as Shizun is alive, is somewhere in the world, safe and happy, then... then...

He can't quite get through lying to claim that it would be enough. But it would be better than the current situation, so he tries.

Shen Yuan, luckily, has been juiced up enough from all the failed summoning rituals that later that night, he finally recognizes the little whisper-calls as echoes of Luo Binghe's dreams. And he's strong enough to follow the invitations! He goes to visit Binghe in his dreams, and reassures him that he's not trying to reject him at all. He's very proud of Binghe, and wants him to be happy and successful. Binghe could rule the world and Shizun would just cheer him on!

It's just that Shen Yuan never willingly possessed Shen Qingqiu in the first place. He misses his life, but given the choice, he doesn't want to be that kind of entity.

So, new plan -- if Shen Yuan won't take a body off of an undeserving asshole, then Binghe will make him a new body! Luckily, Shen Yuan knows a way to grow one. They "borrow" some genetic materials from Shen Jiu to aid the process, and then Luo Binghe, surprisingly indifferent about the whole thing, cuts Shen Jiu loose at the border.

Shen Yuan is surprised. Binghe really doesn't care about that? Turns out no, not so much. Shen Jiu is awful, but he's nothing to Binghe in the long run. (Also it's a long shot but if nothing else does work Binghe might have to force Shen Yuan to take Shen Qingqiu's body back, though of course he's not about to say so, and anyway Shen Jiu is still going to have a hell of a time waiting for him back in the cultivation world. Luo Binghe wishes him luck and every pleasure of trying to clear his ruined name, living a life on the lamb with an insidious poison constantly eating away at him, or the full enjoyment of a second visit to the water prison, whichever ends up happening.)

With the help of Luo Binghe's blood parasites, the Sun and Moon Dew whatever mushroom body grows in record time. A summoning ritual isn't even required, Shen Yuan just scoots right in as soon as the body is ready and blinks his eyes open to see his anxious disciple's face peering back at him.

Happily ever after!

[lovebugism]

hi!! shy!reader with eddie and love confession???

ty for requesting xoxo — eddie tells you he (doesn't) have a crush on you at a party (shy!fem!r, friends to lovers, 0.8k)

The local freak is greeted with thunderous applause.

Eddie’s late, fashionably so. His hair is wild, his eyes are smudged black, and his smile is lopsided. He makes the rounds across the dimly lit living room, acknowledging just about everyone he sees, and gets handed a drink along the way.

You feel strangely honored when he decides to settle next to you.

He plops down on the couch beside you — where you’ve been alone for some minutes now — with enough vigor to jostle the cushions below you. He doesn’t bother to leave anything more than an inch of space between your thighs. He throws his arm over the back of the couch and flashes a crooked pink smile your way.

“Hi,” Eddie greets, all cool as he sips from the plastic cup in his ringed hand.

Your face burns with his attention. You duck your gaze to your lap and fight back a too-big smile. “Hi.”

“How’s it going?”

“Fine,” you hum, peering sweetly beneath your lashes. “You?”

“Awful,” he quips. Then he beams. “Until now, anyway. ‘Cause I missed you.”

His words set your skin ablaze — you think you’d burn him if he touched you just now. Your chest swirls with the billowing flames. You couldn’t hide your giddy smile if you tried. “Missed you, too, Eds.”

The boy huffs. He rolls his eyes, hardly serious, as he says, “I bet you say that to all the boys.”

You shoot him a half-hearted glare, too pretty to be threatening. “There are no other boys, Eddie,” you murmur, visibly shy because he knows that. It’s why he’s smiling so damn big. 

“Good,” he hums with a lazy grin, letting the tension between you linger for a moment. He brings the cup to his mouth for another taste of bitter alcohol. It shines on his rosy lips before he licks it away. After a second or so of silence, he confesses, “‘Cause I kinda like having you all to myself.”

A weird ache settles behind your ribcage. “I bet you say that to all the girls,” you murmur with an averted gaze, anxious hands fidgeting with the solo cup you hold between them. It’s a joke — mostly — but it comes out more serious than you mean it to.

Eddie scoffs. “There are no other girls. You’re the only person in Indiana willing to give a freak a chance, turns out.”

“Is that why you’re sitting here?” you squint, still impossibly sheepish. “Because I’m the only one who’ll give you a chance?”

“I’m sitting here ‘cause you’re the only person in Hawkins I can stand for more than five minutes,” he answers without missing a beat. Then he tilts his cheek to his shoulder and smirks. “So you having a big, fat crush on me was just fate.”

Feeling seen and half-embarrassed, you turn away. “I don’t have a crush on you.”

“Oh. Right,” Eddie says with a slow, sarcastic nod. “The same way, I don’t have a crush on you either, right?”

And it’s so like the both of you — to confess something so deep by not confessing at all.

His grin widens when you roll your eyes. He knocks his leather-clad shoulder against yours but doesn’t try to move away. Still leaning against you, he continues. “Then it might also make you feel better to know that I haven’t been in love with you since tenth grade, either.”

You peek at him, just barely. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “And, you know what? I actually want other girls lookin’ at me.”

“Do you?” you hum and face him fully. 

With your chin to your shoulder, Eddie’s much closer than you thought he’d be. Your noses are mere inches apart. You can smell the whiskey-mint-nicotine concoction on his breath. The proximity makes your head swim.

“‘Cause I don’t see you at all,” he jokes with a dramatic inflection, obviously teasing.

The rest of the world is invisible when I’m with you, he’d say if he weren’t such a coward. It could be falling apart right now, and I wouldn’t even know it.

“Not even a little bit?” you press, lips quirked in a shy smile.

He shakes his head. The wild strands of his hair tickle your jaw. “Not at all,” he answers and prays you understand him in his sarcasm.

You purse your glossed lips to the side of your mouth and turn away from him again. Your cheeks feel on fire as you duck your gaze to the hardly-sipped cup in your lap. “Well, that sucks,” you quip after a few moments of silence. “I thought we had something going here.”

The boy scoffs. He drops his arm from the back of the couch to wrap more fully around your shoulders. The musky scent of his cologne swaddles you the same way his touch does.

“Oh, c’mon,” he croons with a lazy smile. “You know you can’t deny our chemistry.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “Didn’t you fail chemistry?”

His lips jut in a soft pout. “I don’t see how that’s—”

“Twice?”

You bite back a grin when he glares playfully at you — the roles now sufficiently reversed.

“Stop being mean. I’m already in love with you,” he grouses with a feigned pout scrunching his flushed features. “Now you’re just rubbing it in.”

[basicinstnct]

can’t quit you / miguel o’hara

word count: 1642

tags: oral sex, size kink, friends with benefits, strength kink, slight angst, commitment issues

ao3 link: here

summary: you know what an addiction is, and the definition doesn't seem too far off.

a/n: i’d like to add a better graphic but the movie just came out. one day!

small prequel: here

“This is practically breaking and entering,” you tease. You’re less than new to returning from work to a huge form sprawled across your couch. Miguel has no issue making himself at home, at least not in your apartment. You figure it’s a sign that you don’t scream at the sight of him, even if you’re stuck on how weird it is, coming home to a shadow at night and not being bothered. It’s part of his strange charm (and you secretly revel in the fact that he’s only this comfortable with you).

“Wouldn’t have to break in if you’d let me have a key,” he’s entirely serious.

“You know why that can’t happen,” you say, like you’ve had to say a dozen times. Any number of excuses come to mind. You’re emotionally intelligent enough to know that he’s emotionally unavailable, no matter what he says, or thinks.

“I can be your man,” he says with his typical resilience, “more, if you’ll let me.”

You don’t even know what more means, if he’s already in your apartment like it’s his, if he’s already been inside you like you’re his. What will one more step do? You know what an addiction is, and the definition doesn't seem too far off.

“Miguel…” He’s run out of reasons to refuse you. You’ve run out of reasons to refuse him. Nice reasons, at least. But knowing what’s good for you doesn’t mean that’s what you want.

He rises from the couch, and it is a rise. He normally towers over every piece of furniture in your place, over you. It doesn’t take much trying. You’ve wondered if it’s hard for him to always be the biggest thing in the room, but a guy like him probably likes that, likes being unavoidable.

Miguel only knows how to kiss one way, sloppy. When his lips meet yours it’s like all the desperate parts of him come out of hiding. His tongue grazes all parts of your mouth like there’s something sweet inside, and you whimper when you realize he’s swapping spit with you. Even his saliva runs a bit hotter. It makes you pull back, panting in lieu of straight up whining.

“Baby,” he says with your face in his hands, like he knows it’ll make you weak. You try to avoid his gaze but he catches your jaw, squeezed a little the way he knows you like. “No,” he sighs, long and heavy. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna say no now.”

“I’m not saying no…” 

Miguel sinks to his knees and looks up at you like you take the wind out of his sails. Being able to look down at Miguel is a hard pill to swallow. “Gonna let me taste that sweet pussy again? Or are you gonna make me beg like you did last time?”

If you remember well, denying him didn’t end well for you the last time. You have flashes of being put in a press, legs to your ears with Miguel growling, talking about the feeling of your wet cunt on his dick, about how good you felt milking him, about how if he didn’t know any better he’d think you want his cum. You didn’t even know he could talk like that, talk about anything other than preserving and protecting. It’s like a switch is flipped when he’s with you, even if it’s been weeks or months between seeing him.

You give an inch and he takes a mile. Lifts your thigh over his shoulder so he can get at what’s between your legs. His hands travel up your thighs, gripping at parts of your flesh just to hear the sighs you make. When he goes under your skirt you expect to feel something, his fingers or tongue, but instead it’s just him breathing against you. Smelling you.

“You’re disgusting,” you whine, flushed anyway.

It doesn’t stop him, probably encouraging him instead seeing as he nestles his face in deeper, grabbing your hips so you can’t pull away. Your squirming only pushes him further into you. You can feel his nose bump your clit, and his tongue pushes fabric against your pussy.

“Miguel, come on.” You feel so ridiculous, even though he can’t see you.

“I want you to beg me,” you hear him say, “I want you to beg me like you made me beg the last time. Bet you feel just as needy as I did. I can hear it in your voice. so it shouldn’t be that hard.” He starts to palm you just to prove a point, dragging thick fingers up and down your slit. It doesn’t take long for you to start soaking through the fabric. 

“Please,” you murmur, “pleasepleaseplease.”

“Please what?”

“Please, Miguel, touch me. Touch my pussy.”

“All you have to do is ask, baby.”

You feel him drag your underwear down your legs, toss it somewhere in the room. Then he’s free, free to pull apart your folds so he can see you clench and drip around nothing. He leaves you just like that, before you feel the heat of his tongue, lips following soon after. And it’s not just touching, it’s like he’s making out with it. You can’t help the throb that goes through you, and you’re sure he can taste it in his mouth. 

You shiver at the heat of him, aggressive and persistent, not unlike a raging fire. Your body is torn between reactions, goosebumps on your flesh and sweat on your brow.

“It’s ok, baby,” he’s saying, sounding like he’s got a mouthful of you. “I won’t look at the faces you make. I know how embarrassed you get.”

Miguel slides two fingers in deep, and then starts curling. It doesn’t make much of him for you to feel split open. He’s big all over, everywhere where it counts.

“Cute,” he mutters, when you buck against his hand, “you still think you’re strong enough to get away from me.” His words have the intended effect. You feel powerless, so you give in. You’re barely standing on your own feet, his hand and shoulder and face giving you all the support you need.

“I know,” you moan, “I know, I can’t.” You feel yourself gone boneless in his grasp. He has you.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen: I’m gonna keep you on my fingers until you soak my hand, and then I’m gonna make us both come, okay.”

“Yes, yes, okay,” you agree without listening, “Miguel, please make me come.” 

He takes away his fingers, but not before sliding them against your pussy again, like he’s trying to collect all that drips out of you. When he moans shamelessly into you, and you start to hear a slick sound, you realize that can only mean one thing.

“Are you…” You can’t say the words.

You can hear him fist his cock, spread what he took from you all over his dick, using it as lube. The sound of wet skin so loud you can almost see him. Shlick. Shlick. Shlick. You know how he gets when he’s pent up, how he leaks like a faucet if he hasn’t come recently. You’ve felt him throb in your hand, seen the dark look he gets when your hand can’t even wrap around him. Miguel moans like he knows what you’re thinking, and goes at you harder. You barely feel there, like he’s just using the taste of you to get off.

“You’re wet,” he slurs, like he’s confirming, “‘s gonna make me come.” 

“Me too,” you sigh, high on the feeling of him. “I’m gonna come too.” But you can’t yet, not until you see. Your hands are clumsy and shaking as you fumble with the buttons of your skirt. You pop them out one by one until it all falls away and you can finally see Miguel.

He looks as debauched as expected. His jaw and mouth shine with what you’ve done to him, and when his eyes flicker open he looks like he’s under a spell.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is a lilting tease, “I thought you wanted me to make you come.” He looks you straight in the eyes as he leans back in, licks your clit until you whine. You’re right back on the verge of orgasm. 

You know he’s close too by the way he shivers. It’s his tell, you’d realized the first time he fucks you. Miguel shakes like the pleasure is too much, and when it finally is you hear it rather than see it. Thick streams of his cum wasted on the floor beneath you. The sound of him so eleated, knowing it’s the taste of you that has him like this, has you right where he wants you. 

You grab onto him as you come, feel his strong shoulders tense with the effort to hold you tight. He doesn’t let up with his mouth, licking up all of you until you shake from the stimulation.

It’s not surprising that you teeter when Miguel lets go of your legs, still weak from your orgasm. “Oh, baby,” he says, “if you needed to lay down you should have said so.”

You end up intertwined on the floor, his hand combing through your hair. You can hear him breathe deeply, and the peace of it threatens to send you into a deep sleep. It’s laughable to have him fawn over you like this, when in the morning you’ll choose to go back to separate lives, so much so that you can’t help but joke about it. “You treat all your girls like this?”

“There are no girls.”

“Sure,” you giggle, “so when I don’t see you for a month…”

You don’t believe him for a minute until you look at him, and his face is so honest, so genuine, that in the back of your mind you wonder if there could be a future for the two of you after all.

[syddsatyrn]

⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧ Chapter One: A Sleepless Sovereign

Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak, happy ending.

⛧Words: 3.3k

⛧Summary: As Lucifer's advisor you are required to assist him with a number of things. That includes his schedule, many chores, and the occasional middle of the night panic attack.

⛧Notes: This is my first Hazbin Hotel fic! I hope you all like it because Alastor is my next victim. I just want to give poor Luci some love, he is such a cutie and he's been through enough! My beta reader is @hellfiremunsonn and we love her for that.

---------------------

The sun rises and a soft glow illuminates the kitchen. Faint streaks of dawn get brighter as time goes by, the sky is painted with hues of pink and gold. Every day you wake before him and make his coffee. It was a morning ritual you’ve come to enjoy. The silence allowed you time to think and plan your day. As you fill a cup full of coffee, the smell permeates the air.

You carefully take the cup upstairs on a tray and down a long hallway. The air hummed with a faint scent of luxury. It's grandiose and extravagant manor, with gold trim in the hallway. Apples and angelic wings decorate the molding. Your footsteps echo against the marble floors until you stop at the large double doors. You open the right side of the door quietly. The room is dark, some light peeked through the window, but the long velvet curtains block out most of it.

He's so peaceful, lying there, the silk sheets covering his midsection leave little to the imagination. His messy blonde hair and soft face has always made your heart skip a beat. Soft snores escape his lips, you almost feel bad for waking him up while he’s in such a state.  

“Your majesty?” You finally speak. The King stirs and covers his face with his hands. He lets out a small groan in response.

*It's time to get up, sir.” You say as Lucifer slowly and reluctantly sits up. You hand him his coffee with a smile, he looks up at you with drowsy eyes. 

“Thank you, y/n.” He replied, taking a sip of the warm and bitter drink.  

You start to stroll around his room, picking up clothes that have been tossed and putting them in the laundry basket. Lucifer watches as you pick up his messy room, sipping his coffee occasionally. 

“You don't have to do all that y’know.” Lucifer says, feeling a little guilty about his disorganization. 

“Oh but I do, sir.” You said with a straight face. 

“Y/N, I don't know what I would do without you.” He admits with a soft chuckle. 

You smile, your face turns a little pink but it's hard to tell with the lights off. You walk over to the curtains and draw them open. Lucifer doesn't look too pleased with how bright it is. You walk over to his wardrobe and shuffle through the many different articles of clothing until you find his white suit with red accents. 

“Your daughter called, there are documents you need to look over and you have a meeting this afternoon.” You remind him as you place his clothes on the corner of his large bed.

“Can I just go back to sleep?” Lucifer pleads with you and you let out a small sigh.

“Every day you ask me the same question and every day I tell you the same answer…”

“So that's a no…?” He chuckles softly.

That is correct, your majesty.” You roll your eyes as you leave him to get dressed for the day. 

----------------------

The relationship between you two has always been a little strange. You were hired many years ago as a maid for his estate. But after a small while grew to be his right hand, now you’re titled as his “advisor”. You take your job very seriously, everyday you make his coffee, bring him his meals, complete household chores, chauffeur him around, you even attend his meetings for him occasionally. Your entire life is devoted to your King, you felt it was a respectable title. You've worked hard to get to this point, and recognize the power that comes with that. After many years of proving yourself, Hell sees you as an extension of the royal family.

Lucifer had quite a soft spot for you, he offered you a room in his home so you can do your job without the bothersome commute. He pays you well and allows you access to many of his personal assets. The free room and board, along with never having to cook for yourself made it all worth it.

After some time you developed some feelings for him, but you would never admit that. You’re not up to that societal standard. You’ve always told yourself he could have anyone he wanted, which is true. The King of Hell was dashing and charming, but also extremely powerful. Despite all that he doesn't seem to fraternize with anyone, ever since Lilith left, it’s like he's lost that part of himself.

It was time for you to get yourself a cup of coffee and bring his breakfast to the dining hall. After finishing your task you sit down at the dining table and enjoy your coffee. Not long after, Lucifer emerges, dressed, but still looking rather fatigued.

“Did you not sleep well, sir?” You ask and bring your cup to your lips.

“No, I was tossing and turning all night.” He grumbles, the dark bags under his eyes are a dead giveaway.

“Hmm…you’ve been doing that quite a bit more often than usual.” You remark.

“I know! What is up with that? It's ridiculous.” The king says with a huff.

“Ridiculous indeed, sir.”

Lucifer called Charlie on his cellphone, and talked about the Hotel she was running. Charlie says he is due for a visit so you make a mental note to schedule that later. Your mind wanders as he talks on the phone while eating various fruits. The last time Lucifer wasn’t sleeping well he was having nightmares. You remember one awful night in particular, you were up late finishing some paperwork for him when suddenly you hear a scream coming from his room. You rush in and he's curled up in a ball, sobbing. You immediately crawl into his bed to comfort him, he laid his head in your lap and you played with his blonde hair until he fell back to sleep.  

“Y/N…?” Lucifer says and tilts his head slightly. Looks like he finished his phone call while you were lost in thought. You shake yourself from your memories, a pink tint spreads across your face.

“Yes?”

“Something on your mind, my dear?” He asks with a look of concern on his face. 

“No sir, it's nothing.” You assure him. Neither of you have spoken of that night since.

You continue to drink your coffee, Lucifer gives you a skeptical look and continues his breakfast. The day was a very average day. After breakfast Lucifer went to his study to read over some documents and sign a few things. You took his almost empty plate and cup to the kitchen and placed it in the sink for the staff to deal with. You text Charlie with a list of dates to choose from to schedule a visit, reassuring her that you’ll make it happen.

Next is time to clean Lucifer’s room. It's not disgusting by any means, more like cluttered. He tosses stuff on the floor absentmindedly and you always end up tidying the place at some point. Besides, you are the only one allowed in his room, who else is going to do it?

You collect all the empty liquor glasses and place them on a silver tray along with the empty decanter. Making his bed was rather difficult due to it being so large, but you manage like you always do. You tidy up his bathroom, finding more clothes tossed on the floor, you put them in the laundry hamper as well. You leave his room with the silver tray and take it to the kitchen. The staff fill the decanter and give you clean crystal glasses. You return to his room and set the tray on his desk. After that, you take the basket of clothes to the laundry room.

Before you know it, the clock strikes one and you make your way to Lucifer's study. You open the door softly and enter, you set down a small tray with a cup of tea and a plate of cookies on his desk. He picks up the cup and takes a sip, the tea is exactly how he likes it.

“Are you here to tell me I have to attend another one of those annoying meetings?” Lucifer asks in a slightly irritable tone. He spins the chair around to face you, his yellow eyes fixate on yours.

“I’m afraid so, your majesty.” You reply. Lucifer groans and slumps back in his chair. Sometimes he can be a little childish, you cover your mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Y/N, I can’t sit through another one of those meetings. I will literally wilt away into nothing.” Lucifer says, he turns to face you and takes your hand in his. He softly squeezes it, your face turns a little pink as you look down and meet his begging eyes with yours.

“Can you go instead? Pretty please?” You can never resist those eyes and he knows it. Your face softens and you squeeze his hand back.

“Okay, but don't make this a habit.” You say you let go of his hand. Still trying to retain some sort of professionalism.

“Thanks doll, I owe you one.” He says with a warm smile, the same smile that makes your heart skip a beat every single time. You bow and leave him to his work, once you get behind closed doors you let out a long sigh, you truly don't want to attend this meeting either. But it can’t be helped, the show must go on.

You grab your overcoat, cellphone, keys, and meet the driver out front. It didn't take long to arrive at Carmilla’s manor. You have been asked to attend a meeting with the overlords and report back to Lucifer. The guards led you through the manor to a large meeting room, you open the door and it seems everyone is in attendance.

The V’s, Zestial, Alastor, Rosie, Zeezi and Ms Carmilla Carmine herself. You take the empty seat next to Zestial.

“My my, I didn't think Lucifer would send his pet, but Miss Carmine, I thought there was a No Dogs Allowed sign out front?” Alastor immediately starts with the catty behavior. You don't have time for any of this, you need to be home soon to serve supper.

"Your words are like a bad song on repeat. Spare us." You retort with your arms folded. The Radio Demon gives you a sinister stare and you roll your eyes at his half baked attempt at scaring you.

“Please, can we start this stupid meeting? I have somewhere to be.” Velvet says looking at her phone, not paying much attention to anything else. Vox agrees with her and Carmilla begins to speak on various topics.

The meeting felt like it ran longer than expected, it was concerning how we move forward now that exterminations are no longer an issue. They spoke of which towns were hit the hardest by the attack, what kind of ongoing plans they have and how to proceed with caution, for we do not trust the Angels and their hidden intentions. After a while, the conversations started to devolve into personal ones.

“Lucifer will be assisting the Pride Ring as best he can, any requests for aid on his part can go through me for approval. Trust that they will be hand delivered to him in person. The King wants nothing more to provide relief for his people.” Was the last thing you said before getting up and excusing yourself from the meeting, politely.

When you make it back to the car, you let out a sigh of relief. It's finally over, time to head back to the manor. When you returned it was already late into the afternoon. You hang up your coat and head to the kitchen, you pour Lucifer a small glass full of whiskey and ice. Before you put the bottle back in its place you take a quick swig, that meeting was just agonizing. You needed something to take the edge off.

You walk to the study with the glass on a silver tray, as you open the door, she sees Lucifer in his chair, reading.

“Good afternoon, your majesty.” You greet him with a smile and a short bow.

“Ah good, you’re back. How was the meeting?” He asks, genuinely curious. 

“It was…interesting, to say the least.” You reply while handing him the glass. “I can see why you did not want to attend.”

“They are so insufferable, right?” He says and takes a sip. 

“Indeed, sir.” You don't wish to mention Alastor’s comment from earlier, the last thing you need to do is give him something to be cross about.

“Dinner will be ready soon. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” You ask politely.

“Oh no, you always do so much. Thank you Y/N.” Lucifer takes another sip of his whiskey.

You dismiss yourself and head down to the kitchen to help prepare dinner for yourself and Lucifer.

Lucifer spins around in his chair and takes a sip of the drink you left him with. He’s trying to hide it but he’s absolutely exhausted. Lately when he’s tried to sleep, memories flood his mind like ghosts of the past. The absence of warmth beside him was a void he could not fill. When he will be free from the torment, he is unsure. But every day he wakes up and there you are, right beside him as always. He knows you try to put off a cold exterior, you’re the king's guard dog after all. You were always one to never indulge your secrets but he knew a few things about you that no one else did.

The night you held him in your lap it looked as though he had fallen asleep. While you carded your fingers through his hair you whispered “I wish you knew how remarkable I think you are.” He heard you loud and clear. The King always had a space in his heart dedicated to you, but you’re his advisor, consultant, and au pair. How would the world see you both as a couple? It was certainly something that would be looked down upon by most. A bell rings and pulls him from his thoughts, dinner is ready.

-------------------

He sits in his usual spot and you always sit on his right side. Dinner was a mix of high grade meats and vegetables. You cut into your food and display proper table manners, Lucifer sneaks glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

“I scheduled a time for you to visit your daughter's hotel this Thursday.” You remark and Lucifer nods with food in his mouth.

“Good, I’ve been meaning to visit, I’ve just been so tired lately, and If I’m not tired I’m busy.”

“You need some proper rest, sir.” You state the obvious. You wish there was something else you could do to assist him with this.

“Trust me, if I had the choice I’d be asleep right now, my dear.” He takes another bite, his face looks a little forlorn. Usually you would keep to yourself unless Lucifer would outright say something is wrong, but this is different.

“Is there something wrong, sir?”

“No, it's nothing, Y/N. I’m just tired, I swear.” He says, trying to brush off any depressive feelings. You give him a bit of side eye but decide to let it go. But deep down you knew something was troubling him. It was just a matter of if and when he will tell you. You both continue eating, he tells you about the book he's reading in hopes to clear the melancholy vibe in the room. You sit and listen to him ramble on like any other normal day.

------------------

It was getting late, Lucifer was in his room, drink in hand. Outside, the world slumbered beneath a blanket of stars, oblivious to his pain. With the window open he seeks solace in the cold night air. But the chill only served to remind him of the emptiness inside. He downs the rest of his drinks and sets it on the nightstand. He crawls under the covers and closes his eyes and wraps his arms around himself as he tries to get some rest.

But all he could see is her, walking away, leaving him heartbroken and devastated. A single tear falls down his cheek. He buries his face in the pillow and tries to forget these memories, good and bad. The minutes pass like fleeting shadows, and Lucifer finally starts to fall asleep. But not long after he wakes up in a cold sweat with a scream. His chest heaves and he feels like he can’t breathe, he looks down at his shaking hands.

You were doing your rounds in your silk pajamas, locking doors and shutting windows. You said goodnight to the kitchen staff and headed upstairs. Then suddenly you hear a loud scream come from Lucifer's bedroom, you immediately rush up the stairs to the door and open it.

He’s sitting upright in his bed, knees against his chest, holding his face in his hands. Tears streaming down his cheeks as he recalls the haunting memories. You don't say anything, you quickly sit beside him and place your hand on his back. He immediately pulls you in for a hug, you’re surprised at first but you hug him back. He buries his face in your shoulder, letting out soft muffled sobs. 

“Shhhh…it's going to be okay…I’m here…I’ve got you.” You whisper soft words of reassurance in his ear, he just hugs you tighter.

“I’m so sorry…” He says between sniffles and you start to gently rub his back. You wished there was a way to stop him from feeling so miserable, but all you can do is sit and comfort him for as long as he needs. In the safety of your arms, the remnants of the dream began to dissipate. Your familiar voice and smell provided a soothing counterpoint to the chaos of his mind.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear.” You say as you pet the back of his head, his face finally emerges from your shoulder and meets your gaze. You gently wipe away any stray tears with your thumb and give him a soft smile. “Tough times don’t last, tough people do, and you’re one of the strongest people I know.” You say just barely above a whisper. 

A small smile appears on his face and you brush away a few stray hairs, glad that your king is feeling a little better. “Is there anything else I can do to make you feel more at ease?”

“I do have one request…But I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel about it.” He says, while looking away, he’s definitely embarrassed by his own question.

“Try me.” You reply, it can’t be that bad, he’s never asked you to do anything you’re not okay with.

“I would really appreciate it if I didn't have to sleep alone tonight…” He finally asks, he blushes a little, unsure if that's even okay to ask. You can't help but also turn a little red, this is absolutely not allowed, but maybe the rules have exceptions in times of crisis.

“Yeah…I can do that.” You agree.

Lucifer’s golden eyes widen and he perks up a bit. “R-Really?”

“Yes, really.” You chuckle softly.

Lucifer crawls back under the covers and opens his arms for you to join him. You crawl over to him and settle in, his arms wrap around you and you lace your fingers with his hand, allowing him to spoon you. His body heat and the chill night air was the perfect combination to lull you to sleep.

“Goodnight Luci~” You say before sleep starts to drag you away from this world. A nickname you lovingly use very rarely. He nuzzles your shoulder and drifts off rather quickly with nothing but a content smile on his face. When you two will admit your feelings for each other is a mystery, but for now, you’re happy just to be his biggest support system. If there's one thing you’ve learned living with Lucifer, it's that devotion in any form, is love with wings.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Camp III

Pernille Harder x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first time at Denmark camp

"Well, well, well," Stine says with a smile," Doesn't this little lady look delightful?"

Pernille rolls her eyes fondly as she grabs the bags from the car.

She feels uncharacteristically nervous stepping back into training. It's her first camp since your birth and you're still tiny, just learning how to explore the world around you and still communicating in babbles.

You don't look nervous at all but that's probably because you don't understand anything at all.

That's okay.

Pernille can be nervous enough for the both of you.

Stine reaches out to poke you in the cheek, finger stopping inches away before she retracts it.

"Sorry," She says," That's rude. Can I touch her?"

It's nice that Stine has asked. Some people don't ask and just touch you out of nowhere.

"You can hold her if you want. She's fairly docile."

You're moved from Pernille to Stine and you blink in confusion at the strange woman that now fills your gaze.

"Well, hello there," Stine coos," Aren't you pretty in your jersey?"

You'd been put in one of Pernille's old Denmark jerseys for the flight over to sleep in. It's Pernille's size so it's massive on you but it's nice and warm and smells just like her so you didn't have much of a problem sleeping in it.

"Yes, you are! Denmark's so much better than Sweden!"

Pernille laughs, pulling the suitcase inside. "Don't let Magda hear you say that."

"It's a good thing that Magda isn't here then. No doubt she'll be putting this beautiful little girl into some horrific yellow shirt."

"I've tried to stop her," Pernille says," But she just won't let it go."

"You should have kept her as just a Harder," Stine says with a laugh," Because the Eriksson genes are already out in full force. We don't want her to grow up to play for Sweden."

Pernille laughs too. "I'm sure we'll see her in a Denmark jersey at some point."

The staff have been very accommodating to your presence, Pernille notes. That had been one of her worries.

You were much too young for her to feel comfortable separating from you for the duration of camp, even if you would have only gone to her parent's house to be looked after.

Perhaps it was a bit of separation anxiety from her side but Pernille didn't want to leave you for a second.

The staff were fine with it, placing a travel cot in her room for you to sleep in as well as a few stray bath toys for you to use during bath time.

There's kid's cutlery and bowls and plates for Pernille to choose from even though you're still breastfeeding and have no need for it. There's formula too and a range of bottles and a steriliser should Pernille need it.

There's a nice little shady spot on the pitch set up with you, complete with a travel pen and a sensory mat and one of the staff members stays with you the entire time just so Pernille can fully focus on training.

You're a hit with the rest of the team though.

Everyone seems to want to hold you and talk to you and most days there's a line going out the door of Pernille's room in the morning.

Most people think you're just delightful in the morning in a big fluffy onesie and your wispy hair all messed up and sleep-mussed.

It's actually a big help to have someone coo and hold you outside while Pernille goes through her own morning routine.

She's learnt how to do it all one-handed now but it's still nice to be able to go through it without a babbling baby hanging off her arm.

"She can't eat cake?" Sanne asks as Pernille pushes away the plate.

"She's a baby," Pernille laughs as you, fairly aggressively, suck at the bottle in your mouth," She can't digest it yet."

"But we're celebrating your return! How can she celebrate if she can't eat cake?"

"She's got a bottle," Pernille says as you kick your little legs in happiness," That's enough for her."

"But it's cake! How could you deny her this?!"

"You're almost as dramatic as Magda. She literally can't eat it. Leave it a few months and we'll try again."

"But-"

You bat the bottle away from you, legs still kicking.

"Oh! Are you done?"

Pernille frowns, looking at the way the bottle is still half full. She presses it back against your lips but you refuse to open them.

"What's up with you today? Huh?" Pernille laughs a little at the disgruntled look on your face, a perfect mirror image to the one that appears so often on Magda's.

"Maybe," Sanne says," She wants some cake."

[llamagoddessofficial]

perhaps maybe some bad guy moth crumbs? Mayhaps? Maybe?

ok ok o kok ok jokojokjfokdsjfokjokJLFKDSLKFJDSKF i love you anon, good question. This also ties in very well to all the fae thoughts I've been having.

Horror has the wings of a great big ragged peacock moth. They're large, heavy, and thick with fur. They drag behind him like a cape when he walks. With the way the mass of fur around his neck clumps and curls, it gives him the appearance of a lumbering bear - if he can fly, he seems to prefer not to, instead stalking the ground and picking off anything that can't get away from him.

His wings are very matted, very dirty. They have been for a long time. He... he would really, really like it if you brushed him. He doesn't mind how long it takes. It's been so long since someone touched him with care. Just... please brush him.

Dust resembles a muslin moth. Smooth, silky, grey. Too smooth - too untouched. The air around him smells strange, when you touch him its hard to tell what's the usual fine powder moths shed and what's something else. The rest of Nightmare's men have cuts and scrapes and imperfections in their wings, tears from battles they lost. Dust has no such imperfections. Almost like... he just doesn't lose. In some lights, when he raises his wings to attack, it's like the edges glow red and cyan. He is not the creature he purports to be.

You're curious about his wings? Cute. Why don't you come closer, have a better look? Why don't you stand close enough for him to see your lovely face. Then you both get something you want.

Whatever Killer was before, it's hard to tell now. His wings have been stained completely black, the only colours are the vivid red of two perfect eyespots, one on either wing. There's probably another moth pattern under all that black. Who knows.

Moth monsters often tend to shed a kind of fine powder, but it's hardly visible and pretty easy to ignore. Killer? His powder is dark, like soot, it clings to anything he frequently touches. Everyone around you can tell that Killer likes you, because his affection comes with great big black marks across your clothes and body. It's his way of declaring ownership. If he thinks someone is getting too cosy he sneaks up on you and hugs you to stain you for the rest of the day.

The exterior of Nightmare's wings looks like a pipevine swallowtail, with a lovely black fading into an equally lovely dark blue. Regal and elegant enough already. He keeps them folded around himself, as a makeshift cloak, and frequently decorates them with silver chains and precious gems.

The interior of his wings sports large, cyan eyespots. If he wants to, he can open his wings and flare the eyespots, causing a sudden rush of uncontrollable terror in whoever witnesses it. It's his decision how the fear affects the victim. He might want to make someone so scared they blab the truth. He might want someone to flee his presence because he's sick of them.

... Or... he might want to stop someone he's interested in from leaving.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 10

Danny groaned, blearily raising his head from the nest of blankets and pillows he had made in his apartment. He had smelled something strange.

Something strong enough to wake him from his sleep. Danny got up and stumbled to the front door, cursing his luck for getting a fever so soon into his interdimentional road trip.

Peering out of his open doorway he saw a little kid shivering in the cold, badly hidden behind two trash cans in the mouth of an alley. Danny didn't think twice. In fact he didn't think at all. It wasn't uncommon for an Omega to smell a child who didn't have the scent of another Omega on them and immediately claim that child as thier own, and seeing as his home dimension had exclusively Omegas...let's just say there's a lot of drama in family court and a lot of laws pertaining to this.

So of course the next thing Danny knows is that the kid was bundled up inside his very soft and comfy makeshift nest before Danny passed out.

For the next week Danny had this mysterious fever and he acted like a parent on autopilot, barely conscious as he instinctually cared for the little boy. He made them food and cut them up into tiny bits to feed his baby and if it was handfoods like pizza rolls or sandwich triangles, Danny would hold him in his arms and rock his back and forth, humming softly as his child ate.

Eventually his heat ended (note that omegas from his world don't have heats, they don't have alphas and so they don't even know what a heat is) and Danny was very surprised he has a child in his house. But he and the baby are very emotionally attached to one another. When Danny asked what the little kids name was (and man this kid was little) the kid stared at him in the way little kids do before muttering the world "Clone" followed by what sounded suspiciously like a serial number.

Danny decided, nah. His kid now. Sucks to be the bioparent cause Danny doesn't wanna share.

Somewhere in the city, the bats were freaking out. They had raided a lab and discovered not only had one of them been cloned, but the clone had escaped and no one knew where it was. Cue panicked parental frenzy.

[hxmocrastic]

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐚𝐢𝐨𝐬 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | HCS

Pairing {📺} ; Yandere!Laios Touden x GN!Reader

Warnings ; Delusion, Obsession, Exhaustion, Brief metaphors of Cannibalism 👀👀

A/N ; He might be a tad bit ooc because I haven't kept up with the manga, but enjoy dungeon meshers !!!! There will be more dungeon meshi content after this 🤍🍲

Before anything takes place, I feel Laios would have to take an interest in you, Whether small or enormous. You'll have to do something that catches his attention, and evidently as short as it is it'll have to be something as large that snags his eyes away from his fixations or something as small as greeting him.

Laios continuous hyperfixation with monsters is an obstacle from granting you his concentration, But it can be done. Laios' obsession would stem from his insecurities and misgivings, Due to his inclination to monsters and beasts many people around him found his person to be eery and strange which lead to the isolation of his peers with the exception of his dear sister, Falin.

The constant sneers and scrutinization from his community of tall men and others have never weakened his resolve, And his love of monsters but the result of it still stings.

Once he takes an interest in you is one for the history books, Only the winged lion knows when or IF he looks away. Once you've caught his interest there is no undoing what shortly ensues.

Laios could hardly remember the people he had met even when they'd be as assertive as they could. Laios could barely remember Kabru's name not his party, So to think he'd finally grant you a portion of the attention he gives to monsters is downright impressive.

I see Laios taking the observational route before he deliberately approaches you, But I can see him greeting you fairly often. Laios would attempt to strike a conversation with you, Whether that'd be related to monsters or a simple warm greeting as he introduces himself. He would try to maintain his gentle demeanor ensuring that he doesn't frighten you away like the rest of his fellow comrades, But oh boy would he fail at doing so. You could just smell the excitement coming off of him.

Laios would begin to befriend you, Sharing the meals Senshi prepares with you, Inviting you to associate with his party, and most of all sharing all of his interests and passions with you.

Think of the way he behaved with Shuro but 10x more augmented with you. He'd talk your ear off day and night about all the different species of monsters as if he wouldn't wake the next day, He'd rant about the various types of basilisks, the eggs of chimera's, and strangely the taste of a female minotaur's milk?

But due to his connection with his party, I think he would be a lot tamer had he been if you had met on the island. Laios would predominantly share all his meals with you, And you'd better put on your best smile and chewing impression if you weren't hungry because your cheeks would be endlessly assaulted by a spoon full of food.

Laios would constantly make sure you'd have enough to eat and enough sleep, So much so you could to start calling him mom habitually at this point. Although you'd see this as nothing but an affectionate gesture, In a way he'd see it as courting.

To me Laios secretes a very delusional vibe, I can definitely visualize him justifying all of his latent clingyness towards you as normal and sweet despite your annoyance. Though the severity of his infatuation depends on when and where'd you meet him. I'd say with his party, He'd be much more gentle with his affections and try to be as sensitive as he could with his eccentricities.

Laios would still often make the mistake of being overly blunt with his observations and compliments, And it could sometimes even insult you. But spending time with this goofball would more likely than not make you aware of his intentions with his words and spare him the scrutiny he receives from Chilchuck, And the others.

Due to this, His infatuation with you will worsen and he'll start equating you with Falin. His sister was the only person who understood the true meaning behind his words and once you, the object of his obsession start showing him he same compassion He'd simply have no other choice but to entertain his delusion.

This is where it begins to take an odd turn in his behavior. The way he'd start to greet you would become jittery, Like a dog greeting it's owner. His excitement would increase tenfold whenever he'd be within a distance of you, like your presence fuels his eagerness. At times it feels as if he's trying to impress you.

Laios undoubtedly try to hog your attention, Try to keep your eyes on him. He'd begin fishing for praise in whatever way whether that be from formulating an elaborate strategy or simply fetching ingredients for the next meal Senshi would cook. He'd begin to grow possessive in a way, trying to pin all of your attentiveness on him, the way he does to you.

Poor boy wouldn't realize what's wrong with it until he starts to see why you always seem so exhausted whenever he's in view, or how he's slowly taking so much of your time and energy you barely give the effort to do something for the party because he's already done it.

He'd still see nothing wrong with it of course, you're still eating, still getting enough sleep but he wonders why you begin to avoid him now. You of course say nothing, trying not to hurt his feelings knowing what he has gone through, See you want to be there for him when his father wasn't, You want him to be happy even with the absence of Falin.

And you prioritizing his happiness is what links you to the party. Laios is without a doubt beyond obsessed with you at this point in time, Your wellbeing far exceeds any voice of reason. Your health and happiness is at the far most importance, Even exceeding his.

You're his everything, And most importantly wants him to be yours. He wants you to dedicate yourself to him, To throw yourself at him like a rabbit to a wolf. To gift him your flesh to consume for HIS wellbeing, To gift yourself his flesh for YOUR wellbeing, The ultimate exchange of love.

Of course Laios himself would never ask you of this, But at times he desires YOU would come to him with such devotion. The same devotion he gives to you day and night, sunset and sunrise, to repay him the same way he has worshipped you ever since he's gained a glimpse of your eyes, and a glimpse of your heart.

A heart he'd consume with his own, Becoming singular with the person he has loved the most, For is that so much to ask??

Laios wouldn't kidnap you, But oh would he have you stay. I mean isn't that what he's been doing all along?? Draining your sense of independence, Training you like a bunny to a owner to rely solely upon him, For it is he who possesses everything you need.

And that's all that matters.

[lovebugism]

hi, bug! i’ve been one of your many avid readers for a long time but it’s my first time submitting a request for your summer fic fest 🥹 could i pretty please request for jealous!mean!eddie x ditzy/sunshine!reader where he sees her ex trying to win her back? ahhh thank you ily! ❤️

thank you for requesting angel, ily :D here's a sorta part 2 to this fic! — eddie doesn't realize he's been taking you on dates until your ex shows up (jealous!grumpy!eddie, friends to lovers, brief allusions to smut | 1.3k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

When Eddie took you to Benny’s Burgers that Saturday evening after your heart got broken, he fully intended for it to be the last. That was until the next Saturday came around, anyway, and he found himself hungry and thinking of you. So, sharing a milkshake at the diner became a two-time deal, begrudgingly so.

The third time was a total accident, and he’d like that on record. Eddie had come alone that day. You made a stupid joke about him stalking you when you just happened to be there, too. (Both of you were secretly hoping the other would show, of course, but neither of you would admit it out loud.)

After that, it just started to feel like tradition. Eddie didn’t feel right going to the diner without you, so he never did. Instead, he buys you dinner once a week, sits with you in your designated booth by the window, and pretends all of it is something he has to do. Because it’s much easier than acknowledging that a lifetime of Saturday evenings with you still wouldn’t be enough.

“Can I have some of your fries?” you wonder through a distressingly large mouthful of cheeseburger.

Eddie scowls. “You said you didn’t want any.”

“I didn’t,” you shrug innocently then swallow down the too-big bite. “But yours look really good…”

“Too bad,” he scoffs and chucks a fry into his mouth. “Get your own.”

You slouch against the pleather seat with your features screwed in a gentle pout. It takes Eddie a record-breaking three seconds to slide his basket of fries across the table to you.

He huffs all dramatically about ‘cause he wants you to know he’s annoyed. You rise again, beaming anyway, because you know most of it’s just for show.

Eddie watches with his brows pinched in confusion as you methodically pick a single fry from the batch. His frown deepens when you dip it into your milkshake. 

“Don’t taint the ice cream, weirdo,” he protests, exhaling sharply through his nose in place of a laugh.

You giggle through your mouthful at the screwed look on his face. “It’s good!” you insist. “Here— Try one.”

Eddie grimaces when you pluck another fry from the basket and scoop it into the milkshake. He flinches when you threaten to hand the monstrosity over to him. “I think I’m good, actually.”

“Try it.”

Your giddiness makes him smile despite himself. He concedes with a heaving sigh. “This is the last time I take you anywhere, you know that?” he grouses, mostly muffled as you feed him the ice cream-covered fry.

You smile to yourself, wider than you realize, and swipe your palms together. You’re pretty sure he’s said that to you every time he’s brought you here — yet, for some reason, he still shows up at your doorstep at seven o’clock every week. 

“Yeah, I know,” you hum with a fond sigh. “But it tastes good, right?”

Eddie’s pretty face is swirled and largely emotionless. You can’t tell if he’s disgusted or amused. “It tastes like… a potato covered in chocolate ice cream,” he deadpans.

“Wow. You’re a genius, Eds,” you muse from across the table. You cross your arms along the top of it and fight back a smile. “Can’t believe it took you two whole years to graduate.”

“Don’t push it—”

He’s interrupted, first, by the overwhelming smell of cologne (pine and lavender, achingly so) — and then by a deep and obviously forced laugh. “It didn’t take you long, did it?” a strangely familiar voice wonders aloud, deep and smooth like honey.

Your head whips at the same time as Eddie’s, both of you wearing similar looks of confusion. A tall boy with nice hair and expensive clothes (an obvious King Steve clone) stands at the head of the table. Your table.

Josh O. from fucking Mr. Mundy’s.

You force a breathy laugh of palpable confusion. “What?”

“Nothing. I was just… wondering why you never called me back,” the boy shrugs and crosses his toned arms over his equally toned chest. His smile is lopsided and perfect; his teeth are slightly crooked and perfect, too. It’s fucking annoying.

“But I guess I have my answer now, right?” Josh O. from Mr. Mundy’s continues with another hearty chuckle. “Trying all the flavors of Hawkins, aren’t we, sweetheart?”

Eddie’s chest burns, and not in a metaphorical way. The red-hot embers there set his ribcage aflame, turning himself into a wildfire of withheld rage. His nostrils flare with it as his dark eyes flit from the asshole towering over the booth, to your cowering form, and then back to the asshole again. 

He seethes quietly and waits for you to stand up for yourself. The moment never comes.

“She didn’t call you back because you’re a fuckin’ douchebag,” Eddie blurts for the both of you, still chewing at the monstrosity he’s wildly unsure of — which he can barely taste now, through his blinding anger and all.

Josh O. from Mr. Mundy’s pretty smile ebbs only slightly. He squints his glittering eyes and long lashes, fluffy brows pinching softly in confusion. “I’m sorry. Who are you again?” he wonders with a cynical laugh.

Eddie’s answer is immediate and equally venomous. “The asshole taking your girlfriend on a date, tough guy,” he mocks.

The boy scoffs. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Were you sayin’ that the night you were tryin’ to cop a feel in your car?”

You shift uncomfortably in the booth. The cracked pleather sticks to your clammy skin. You feel the tension pressing on both sides of you until you can hardly breathe. “Eddie, stop—”

“—You know, it’s real impolite to touch people without permission,” Eddie continues despite your plea, features pinched in a faux-sympathetic pout. “Didn’t your mommy ever tell you that?”

Josh O. from Mr. Mundy’s scoffs, both amused and distantly muddled. He laughs softly to himself and steps back from the table. “You’re a fuckin’ freak, man,” the boy murmurs as he leaves.

“That’s funny,” Eddie calls after him anyway. “Your mom says that, too.” 

“Eddie.”

The boy relaxes in the booth once he’s gone. His rigid shoulders deflate slowly with a drawn-out sigh. He motions across the table with a pale, ringed hand. “Can I have my fries back, or are you gonna eat ‘em all.”

His effortless deflection is almost admirable.

“I’m gonna eat ‘em all,” you joke in an instant.

“Figured,” Eddie deadpans. He reaches for the basket in front of you and plucks a couple from the dwindling pile. He pinches them into his mouth, wipes his salty hands on his jeans, and pretends nothing ever happened.

You swallow hard and avert your gaze. You cradle the cold glass of your milkshake with one hand and stir at its melting contents with the other. “Thanks for that… By the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” Eddie shrugs. “Like, seriously. Don’t. It’s gonna make everything weird if you do.”

“Okay,” you nod firmly, then glance at the boy beneath your lashes. A mischievous smirk curls at the very corner of your mouth. “So… This is a date now, huh?”

“Shut up,” Eddie frowns and takes his fries back. “It just slipped out.”

“So what? That’d make this our… Fourth date? Fifth?”

“Fourth,” he corrects.

Your smile widens. “Most guys usually get laid by then, don’t they?”

Eddie scoffs through his mouthful. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetheart,” he quips in an audibly sarcastic monotone.

The rest of the quote-unquote date plays out like normal. You make mindless conversation while you finish your burgers, sharing a milkshake between you while you steal Eddie’s fries. 

You don’t tell him that you wouldn’t mind if he felt you up in his van — that you’d happily let him, if he asked; and Eddie doesn’t tell you that he goes to sleep dreaming about it most nights. 

[rahuratna]

Nanami Kento: Relationship headcanons

Content: pre-relationship headcanons, introvert reader, pining.

ღ The first meeting isn't reminiscent of any kind of whirlwind romance. You meet him through work or, possibly, through the same leisure spaces that you both frequent; a particular cafe, or maybe a bookstore. You take note of him, but wouldn't dream of casually approaching someone with his demeanour.

ღ Your conversations start with pleasant formality, pleasant on your part, at least. His tone is always clipped and professional, his voice beautiful to listen to, but carefully controlled. His body language seems closed off and his eyes are always concealed behind those glasses.

ღ You may start to gradually take note of him more often. Not because you're struck by his handsome appearance (Nanami is too reserved and understated in everything he does to represent the romantic hero). It's more a case of seeing him, where you didn't take notice of him before. Strange. He must have been around for a long time.

ღ You may learn his name and profession (true profession, since you are an affiliate of Jujutsu Tech). The information you learn doesn't provide much substance. His sorcerer grade, working schedule, career history and areas of operation don't tell you about him. And, you confess, there is something about him that does draw your curiosity.

ღ You finally muster the courage to speak to him more often. The first few conversations go much the same way as the first. There are exchanges of greetings and he then seems satisfied with silence. You find, surprisingly, that his silences are neither judgemental, nor awkward. He merely exists in the space beside you, and that's all right.

ღ Space. You find yourself in his space more often than not. Are you doing this on purpose? Is it really an unconscious desire that draws you to the places where you know he may be? You don't know. But you can sit in the break room and read comfortably with him there. You can eat your lunch in his presence with ease and feel good in the knowledge that he appreciates his food as much as you do. You can do a crossword, after a long day, while waiting for the next shift to start, and you may feel his eyes tracking your pencil as it moves across the page.

ღ The first time he initiates conversation with you, it surprises you, but you're accustomed to his presence by now. And so, your interaction with him is easy, flowing into a soft rhythm that ebbs and flows as you two occupy space together and talk about many things that come into your minds.

ღ And it is now, when you're this close to him, when you can feel the fabric of his sleeve brush against yours, when you can smell the clean, simple scent of his cologne, when his voice dips slightly in amusement (had it ever done that before?), when he takes off his glasses and polishes them with a small cloth and then looks up to meet your gaze, hazel eyes softer in their glance than you expected, it's now that you realise that you're hopelessly attracted to this man.

ღ Change sometimes comes as softly as the dawn, stealing over the lip of your balcony. A fitting comparison, since you now think of him every morning and wonder if he had woken up on time, whether he had cut himself shaving, whether his toast was perfectly done or his coffee piping hot, whether he'd knotted his tie in a rush or taken the time to watch the sun rise, like you have. You think of him on the way to work and wonder if he has a particularly difficult mission lined up today.

ღ You know enough about this line of work to pull your thoughts away from the idea of injury or death. He had chosen this line of work. You've learned enough about him by now to know that he wouldn't take the responsibility lightly, nor would he be reckless in terms of the risks.

ღ It may also be the reason that you decide to hold this feeling, cradled like a delicate flame, intimately and secretly close inside you. This traitorous little flame that threatens to betray you, through the softness in your eyes when you see him, in the ready warmth of your smile when you share the break room, in the new unsteadiness of your hand when his gaze follows the progress of your incomplete crossword.

@tsukimefuku @actuallysaiyan @kentocalls @g-kleran

[bet-on-me-13]

Misunderstandings really really suck

Edit: Part 2 is Up

So heres the deal, it's a normal Vivisection AU where Danny had to run away to Gotham after his parents try to kill him, and let's say that he takes Ellie with him too.

They stay there for a few years and after a while they manage to establish a little life for themselves. Danny is running a small Shop that makes them enough money to live comfortably in the apartment right above his Shop, meanwhile Ellie is going to Gotham Metro Academy on a scholarship because she is really smart and they managed to fake some school records for her when they were making themselves new Identities.

(Side Note: Danny is now 26, while Ellie hasn't started aging yet and still looks 12, but she will begin to soon since she just hit her 12th birthday)

Danny also runs a small Ghost Shop out of his store, just selling small bits of Distilled Ectoplasm or Ecto-Infused Treats to the local Ghosts in return for small favors or help around the shop.

But here's the thing. Ellie is still an unstable Clone, even if they did managed to find a reliable treatment in the form of Ecto-Dejecto. But Danny's parents were the only ones who knew how to make that stuff, and the Ecto-Dejecto they stole all those years ago is beginning to run out.

Danny begins to work tirelessly trying to replicate it, diving full on into his Mad Scientist side to try and find a way to make more ED for Ellie. He manages to make some prototypes, but he is nowhere near confident that they are good enough.

He decides to call in some favors from the local Ghosts. He calls the ones he is confident will survive this and asks them to try out his Ecto Dejecto to see if it will work for Ellie, but he does warn them that there will probably be unexpected side effects that they will probably not like.

The Ghosts agree to do it, because in the years that the Fenton's have lived there they have grown extremely attached to Ellie. She is like a little sister or daughter for many of them, they would throw away their afterlives if it meant helping her.

For most of the samples, the ED doesn't work at all. Some of them work for a single moment before cutting out, others don't do anything, and some have crazy effects that affect them for a little while before disappearing abruptly. One guy turned into a Dog, not the worst outcome but not the intended one. Another began to glow brightly and couldn't turn it off, that one lasted for an hour.

They keep testing them, out in the nearby Alley since they don't want to destroy the house or Danny's makeshift Lab, for a few weeks.

They problem comes when they are spotted one night by Red Hood.

...

Jason was crossing the Rooftops while on Patrol. He was going a little farther than his normal patrol range, since he had the time and he wanted to make sure there was no trouble in the nearby areas either.

As he was about to hop from one rooftop to another, he got a weird feeling. It was strange, he didn't feel anything on his skin, he didn't smell anything, he didn't even hear anything, but he somehow knew that there was something strange happening in the nearby Alley. It was like he could sense it.

Peeking over the edge of the rooftop, he saw a group of about 10 people. It was a bunch of strange looking people with green-ish skin, and one normal looking person. The normal looking one was wearing a lab coat, and seemed to be about 25 yrs old. Jason felt like there was something off about that guy, but he couldn't place exactly what. He was holding a box of something in his hand, and talking to the group.

"Ok guys, I'm really confident this time!" He said, "I think one of these may be the one!"

The man placed the box on a nearby Dumpster and opened it up, taking out a strange glowing green Vial. He handed it to one of the Greenish people and watched as they injected themselves with it.

Jason watched as they began to glow slightly before their arms suddenly grew to be longer than they were tall. The Man in the Lab Coat sighed in discontent, before saying "Ok, not that one. But we still have a few to try out!"

Jason watched as one by one the people below injected themselves with the green Liquid, each of them having some strange phenomenon happen to them before moving on to the next. The strange thing was that none of them seemed to be concerned with the changes, just commenting on it felt before moving on.

Finally, they got to the last person in line. As they injected themselves, Jason felt a sense of Anticipation well up in his gut. He didn't know why, but he felt like this was going to he important.

He was proven right as the Man who had injected himself began to glow brightly. Jason was overwhelmed with the sense of Pure Power coming from him. It was intense, he didn't know how, but he could actually feel the man begin to grow stronger and stronger. The feeling was nearly suffocating, but he managed to regain his senses long enough to hear Lab Coat laugh maniacally. He looked over to see that the entire group was enthusiastically high-fiving and fist-bumping eachother, all cheering at the success.

"Hahaha! Yes! Finally!" Labcoat Cheered, "It's done! Once I make some more, we'll be able to-"

The overwhelming power suddenly cut out. It was so abrupt that even the people below didn't speak for some time. They all just stood on slight shock before Labcoat spoke up, "Ok...ok this is fine. All I need to do is take that formula and find a way to make the effect Permanent. After that we're all set." He said, a thoughtful expression on his face, "I think we'll be good to go within a Week!"

The group of people muttered in agreement, and Labcoat thanked them all for a bit before they all began to walk away. It seemed like the meeting was over.

Jason took a moment to collect himself, before deciding to follow some of the group so he could question them. Unfortunately, everybody he followed disappeared into thin air after a short time.

It occurred to him that he hadn't tried to intervene at all. Usually he would have jumped down and beaten them all black and blue for testing drugs right in front of him, but he didn't this time. Why? He also realized that he should have followed the Lab Coat guy first, not waited until it was his last option. Why did he not go after that guy instantly? Why did he hesitate? Was it something to do with that Ominous Feeling that led him to the meeting in the first place? There was just something about the guy that made Jason feel inexplicably sacred of him.

Either way, he needed to tell the others.

Because from what he had seen, a Mad Scientist had been working with a group of Metahumans to create a Super Soldier Drug right there in Gotham, and they needed to stop them.

[pomefioredove]

Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…

So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse

Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good

Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!

ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3

summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it

Jamil Viper

Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.

That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.

Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.

It's a bit strange, isn't it?

Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.

He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.

But that sense of unease doesn't go away.

He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.

And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.

"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."

You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.

"Thank you," you mumble.

You can't think of anything else to say.

"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.

"I'm fine,"

Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.

"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.

"I've... had a rough day,"

Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"

He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.

"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."

You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"

It.

What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.

"Did something happen?"

You hesitate.

"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"

Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.

He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.

But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.

"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"

"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."

He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.

He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.

"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"

Unlike me, he thinks.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"

Like me.

You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.

A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

"Thank you, Jamil,"

He hugs back. "Of course,"

Ruggie Bucchi

It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.

You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.

Ruggie included.

He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.

He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.

And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.

Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?

He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.

Sigh.

"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.

Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"

"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."

The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.

"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.

"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"

You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.

You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"

"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."

The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"

"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"

Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.

"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"

"Did you find it?"

"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"

You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.

After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"

"What?"

"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"

You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.

Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"

"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"

"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"

He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"

"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"

You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.

And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He struggles to respond for a moment.

"That's rough,"

Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.

"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."

"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."

He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"

The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.

"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"

Leona Kingscholar

Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.

Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...

But that didn't bother him. Not at all.

As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.

That plan lasts about five hours.

"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"

That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.

And it's getting closer.

"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."

Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.

"I'm trying,"

This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.

"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"

Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.

He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.

"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."

"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"

This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.

You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"

"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"

"This is-"

"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.

"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"

Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"

"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."

You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?

"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.

"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"

"Your... offer...?"

Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"

"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"

He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."

Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.

"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."

Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"

"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."

"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.

As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"

"Are you alright?" he asks.

Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"

"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"

"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"

Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.

"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"

You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"

He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"

Floyd Leech

Of course, he can tell something's up right away.

Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.

His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?

Now this catches his attention.

"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.

"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."

"But you're not,"

"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"

Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.

"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"

"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"

Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.

"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"

"Why?"

There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.

"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"

He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"

"FLOYD!"

He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.

When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.

"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."

You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"

"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.

Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"

"Are they ill?"

You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"

"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"

Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"

"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.

Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.

"Now will you tell me?"

"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"

Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"

"Tell me about it,"

"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"

You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"

"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."

"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.

His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"

His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"

"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"

"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"

His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.

You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"

"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"

You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"

Rollo Flamme

Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.

The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.

The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?

They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.

He loathed being talked down to.

Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.

And now you're just quiet.

"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

You shrug.

"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"

No response at all.

Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.

"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"

"No,"

A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.

"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"

That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"

He struggles for the right words.

How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.

Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.

Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?

He couldn't quite come up with an answer.

"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."

"It's not your fault,"

"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"

A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.

"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.

Another pause.

"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Lynette, Eula, and Lumine with an s/o whose love language is acts of service, and enjoys cooking/baking for them?

(Genshin Impact) Signs of Love for Lynette, Eula, Lumine, Arlecchino, Chiori, Lisa, Yae, Xianyun, Dehya, and Kokomi

WOE, EIGHT EXTRA WAIFUS UPON THEE

Lynette prefers this type of love over any kind of flowery words.

After all, with her true profession words mean very little.

How someone acts tells her everything she needs to know.

It especially show in the way S/O cooks their meals.

After coming home from a show, she sees S/O gently smile at her, with a bucket full of shellfish on the table, and a small plate of lemons near it.

She doesn't need to say anything, a small smile from her and her tail swishing faster than usual tells S/O how happy she is.

Having some true peace and quiet with the people she loves nearby is all she could ever want.

Eula is actually thankful S/O shows affection in a language she can understand: nonverbally.

With a simple hug, she can immediately tell how S/O is feeling with how tightly their arms are wrapped around her.

Eula chuckles, being behind closed doors allowing her more gentle side to come out.

(Eula) "Nice to see you too, S/O."

(S/O) "Dinner's already done, kept it warm for you."

(Eula) "How chivalrous of you."

She teased, before seeing a change of clothes already on the table for her.

This was something she could get used to.

With all the things Lumine gets up to, having someone just prepare dinner for her while she's away is enough to make her to cry.

With no other obligations than just to come home safe to someone she loves, Lumine completely relaxes around S/O.

(S/O) "Welcome back. Busy day?"

(Lumine) "You already know."

Lumine slumps down on the chair, letting out a dramatic sigh making both of them laugh.

(S/O) "Dinner should be ready in a second, and I got a bath running upstairs."

S/O heard her head lean back into the chair.

(Lumine) "I could kiss you right now."

(S/O) "Do it when you don't stink."

Lumine rolled her eyes, hearing S/O chuckle.

Arlecchino can easily smell the barbecue coming from the House of the Hearth, as well as the sound of children laughing.

And she knew S/O was in there, keeping them happy.

It was strange, admittedly.

To have someone who genuinely loved her, without knowing entirely what she was actually like.

And instead of showering her with useless words or gifts, S/O let their love show in how they treated her and her children.

It made her quite fond of S/O, and if they were already like this, then she knew she didn't have to say "I love you" to them every day.

(S/O) "Arle, care to join us?"

(Arlecchino) "Of course, have you made sure to make some for yourself?"

(S/O) "Mhm, just didn't want to dig in without you."

A smile finally grows on her lips as she sits down, S/O next to her.

(Arlecchino) "Apologies for keeping you waiting then, Shall we?"

Chiori's not gonna sugarcoat it: Instant kiss with both her hands behind S/O's head the moment she sees her tools already brought out in the order she likes.

She didn't need S/O to do that, but this was way better than some expensive gift she'll never use or wear.

In fact, S/O made damn sure to never buy her clothes, as that would be the ultimate insult.

Instead, it was everything that could help her, ranging from tailoring tools and new windows.

All with an admittedly very cute smile they wore just for her.

(Chiori) "Hm, you have me head over heels for you, S/O."

She said, with a relatively deadpan voice.

(S/O) "You can barely keep the affection in, dear."

Both of them quietly chuckle as they work on their jobs inside the store.

Other than making her name known across all of Tevyat, she doesn't think she could ask for anything more.

Lisa's eyes haze over with more love than she thought possible when she realizes that her tea is already on the table.

(Lisa) "Oh, you sure know how to make a woman's heart skip a beat, S/O!"

(S/O) "Well, I learned from the best, right?"

Lisa absolutely adores S/O's love language, seeing as she barely needed to lift a finger.

But that being said, she makes sure to return the favor. It isn't much of a relationship if only one side is putting in this much effort.

Both S/O and Lisa constantly do little things for each other, whether it be work or home related.

The real moment Lisa is ready to just drop down on one knee for marriage is when they already have a hot bath for her the moment she closes up the library.

Yae gladly takes the sake S/O has prepared for her on the table, making sure to pour them some as well.

(Yae) "Oh, where would I be without you?"

(S/O) "Hm, probably very bored. But still in the same place."

Yae simply chuckles at that, not even bothering to argue.

S/O was certainly interesting in her eyes, as they rarely needed to be told how they could help her out.

She honestly expected their love to be a bit more grandiose instead of something so plain.

And yet she could hardly find room to complain about it. Especially with all the fried tofu they cooked for her.

(Yae) "Remind me to get you something nice for today. Oh, how about a signature from our very own Miss Hina?"

(S/O) "I think I'd prefer my reward not paid with someone's tears, Miko."

(Yae) "Hm, your loss."

S/O already had Xianyun's heart at the good food, but everything else was a bonus that just kept on adding.

And what better way for One to repay S/O's love than eating every single morsel?

For all their efforts, Xianyun works to invent something special, only for S/O.

(Xianyun) "Hm..."

A single finger brushed the bottom of her chin, lips pursing as she struggled to think what machine they could use.

They already had her cooking tools, and while newer ones could be good, she felt the need to give them something even better.

(S/O) "Something on your mind, Xianyun?"

(Xianyun) "No, One's problem is that nothing is coming to it..."

She wanted to repay her affection in kind since this was her love language as well.

What about a machine that could allow them to fly with her?

...Actually, that'd probably be a bad idea....Or would it?

(Xianyun) sigh "If only you could fly, S/O..."

(S/O) "...?"

As a mercenary/bodyguard, actions always spoke louder than words to Dehya.

And she'd be damned if S/O didn't show how much they loved her.

Whether it be buying a nice makeup set for her or preparing an entire bag of Candied Ajilenakh Nuts, it never failed to make her cheeks heat up at least a little.

(Dehya) "Thanks, I'll be sure to use it later! Let me know if there's anything you want me to get you as well!"

She had many types of people try to win her love with trying to smoothtalk or bribe her.

But all S/O had to do was pay attention to the little things.

And seeing how they were trying hard to reinforce her makeup case, Dehya already knew her heart belonged to no one else.

(Dehya) "...Is that steel?"

(S/O) "Think that's too much?"

(Dehya) "Hah, just a little!"

It does not matter how tired Kokomi is, the moment she sees S/O tidying up her bed with a few books already by the nightstand.

Her energy skyrockets back up to full as if she got hit with a power boost.

(Kokomi) "S/O, thank you so much!"

She does feel a little bad for S/O to do so much for her when she's so busy.

But at the same time, it was hard to deny that being pampered like this was greatly relaxing for her.

So much responsibility was thrust upon her, it felt nice to have someone who had no expectations in return to do something just because they wanted to.

In her journal, the energy S/O gives her had at least four digits at any given time.

Of course, she makes sure that they don't ever see that, lest her energy drop to zero by making her want to bury her head inside a pillow.