#id definitely adopt him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

temozarela · 2 months

Text

-> miss you already

GETO X READER MDNI, smut, slow burn, fluff, angst, soft geto, comfort, mutual pining

geto finds you after his defection to say goodbye

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

inspiration (@ayyy-pee)

part 2

ao3 version

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The beginnings of dusk settled over the mountains, soft lavender clouds blushing as the amber sun settled behind them. You were settled at your desk, pen loose in your grip as you stared out of your window. The breeze was cool on your cheeks and you knew that it was probably time to pull the windows closed since the remnants of Summer were scarce, only obvious through the very last of the green leaves, of which were tinged red at the very tips. You could see the main courtyard of Jujutsu Tech from your room, meaning that you often knew who was present and where they were. Previously that day, you had watched Geto leave at 7am, then Nanami at 2pm, and Shoko and Gojo- presumably to the bar- at 5pm. You didn’t get offended about the lack of invite, after all, you often said no these days. Since Geto didn’t choose to go out much, you often chose to stay back with him instead. It was nicer than the sweaty noisiness of the bar Shoko liked. It was her special discovery in second year- a bar that didn’t ask for ID. The others quickly adopted it too, and despite them now being of age, they never grew out of it. You guessed they were emotionally attached to it now, despite the poor quality of the drinks. Geto and you often read together on those quieter nights, or you watched shitty horror movies. You had a tendency to be shyer around bigger groups, so being able to have time alone with Geto was nice, and you felt a lot closer to him because of it. You weren’t an idiot though, you knew he got a lot of female attention. It wasn’t uncommon for you to get glared at when you went out together, and there were occasions where girls had come up to you for permission to ask him out. Truthfully, these girls were often stunning, and part of you even resented Geto for being the one who got their attention, especially since he always politely apologised with a bow- or on his lazier days, he gave them Gojo’s number instead. What a waste.

You had been expecting Geto back at 4pm, but you hadn’t seen him come back yet. In an act of desperate boredom, you’d even checked his room, the training areas, the vending machines, and even the classrooms. Nope. No Geto in sight. It was a shame that he wasn’t there for a ‘just us two’ evening, but that concern was long gone by 6pm. Where was he? You had tried texting and calling him. No response. You had even texted Gojo about whether he’d contacted them.

Nah but u sure he isn’t stuck in the toilet or smth? xoxo

And Shoko.

nope.

not since tues soz

So there you were, sat at your desk, anxiously watching the school entrance. For a second, you had wondered about reporting him missing, however you shook it off. What could the police do that a special grade sorcerer couldn’t?

By the time it was dark, your back ached and you hadn’t made any progress on your homework for at least 3 hours. 9pm. Something was definitely wrong. You tried not to fret, you had noticed how tired he’d been lately- maybe he had chosen to stay in the city for a while to get his mind off things. You groaned, burying your head in your arms. You really missed him, and the worst part was that you were the only one.

See, Shoko and Gojo had the mindset of ‘if it was something he couldn’t handle, it’d be all over the news’, and you were more sensitive than them- you knew that- but it hadn’t stopped you from turning the news on anyway, letting it drone on in the background. Just in case. However, after a while, the hours of constant murmuring about war, murders, a girl being kidnapped, and heavy rain forecast for the next few days wasn’t doing much for your emotional state, so now you finally reached for the remote, turning it off, and by consequence, plunging yourself into deafening silence.

It was late and you were still in your uniform, you noted. You were tired too.

With a hefty sigh, you collapsed onto your bed, staring at your ceiling. The wind whispered, lowly outside, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. You idly chided yourself for forgetting to close the window, but you couldn’t find the energy to do anything about it.

Finally, after a few deep breaths, you found solace in sleep.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You narrowed your eyebrows as you felt your body being jolted, large hands gripping your face, and then your shoulders. Groaning softly, you turned in your sleep, trying to make sense of the voice fading in and out of your brain. It didn’t sound like it was from your dream… It was hushed… low… soft…

It sounded like your name.

Cold hands touched your face again, turning your head. In response, your eyelashes fluttered open. You were surprised, in your groggy state, that you couldn’t see your room. Was something blocking your view? Then, regretfully, you noted that your uniform was sticking to your skin, and that you never did change.

Also, it was freezing.

“Hey.”

You jumped.

“What the fuck.” You croaked, squinting upwards. “Geto?”

“Yeah-”

“Finally.”

“Look-”

“You fucking stink.”

“Ok, just-”

“No seriously, it’s rancid. Hang on, let me get the light…” You mumbled, blinking sleepily.

“Wait, first I should tell you-” Your numb fingers found the light switch, and you flicked it on.

“Ok, ok,” You paused, eyes widening as his figure was illuminated, and suddenly you were very awake. “What the fuck.”

Geto was dripping with blood. His face, his shirt, his trousers- drenched. You studied his face, head cocked. He thinned his lips, looking… mildly unimpressed.

“As I was trying to say,” He started, “I’m leaving.”

“You… just got here.” You muttered, squinting at him.

“No, I-” Geto sighed, running his dirtied fingers through his loose hair, “I’m leaving Jujutsu Tech.”

“Why?”

“I want to create a world of only Jujutsu sorcerers.” He swallowed, hands clenched by his sides. You stilled, mind buzzing.

“How…” You rubbed your temples, looking around, “How… did you get in here?”

Geto stared at you, dubiously. “That’s what you want to ask?”

You nodded. “I have other questions too, but I lock my door at night and now I have safety concerns.”

“Your window was open.”

“Oh yeah.” You mumbled, running a hand over your face. “Fuck.”

“I’m tired of the higher-ups avoiding the root of the problem, so I’m leaving.” Geto continued, carefully.

“Oh.” You said, struggling to find words. “Right now?”

Geto looked at you strangely, then nodded.

“Do the others know?”

Geto shook his head.

You stared at him for a second, eyebrows furrowed, a pensive frown fixed on your face.

“Holy shit!” You sat up, eyes wide with realisation. “Whose blood is that?” You raised your voice, gesturing at his shirt. You were so used to seeing gore as a sorcerer, it hadn’t even occurred to you that the blood on his clothes was anything strange at all.

“Don’t be so loud.” Geto hissed, “It’s just from some non-sorcerers.”

With a raise of your eyebrows, you scrutinised him, “Just some non-sorcerers’?” You scoffed. “Just? How many?”

He swallowed, “112.”

You blinked at him.

“Just… 112… innocent people?” You replied, slowly.

Geto breathed, deeply, “I had to.”

“What would’ve happened if you didn’t?” Your voice climbed as you gestured frantically.

“I wouldn’t have solidified my resolve.” Geto’s shoulders tensed.

You almost wanted to laugh.

“It’s always you and your fucking resolve, isn’t it?” You muttered, dryly. Geto watched you, uncomfortably, his arms hanging uselessly by his sides. A heavy silence hung in the air like a toppled vase, microseconds away from shattering on the floor.

You sighed heavily, crossing your legs, “So… what now?”

“Come with me.”

“Excuse me?”

Geto crouched to your level, hands reaching for yours, “I don’t care if you hate what I do, just come with me.”

You froze, fingers twitching between his clammy hands.

“You’ll have a home, an allowance, I’ll try to give you the best life possible. I don’t want to leave you here to work 50 hours a week and then to die at 26.”

He had a point.

It was a good offer.

Your eyes darted between Geto’s dark ones. “Why me? Shouldn’t you take Gojo?”

“I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.” Geto squeezed your hands tightly. “Satoru enjoys it- fighting with the higher ups and spending his free time exorcising curses. It’s who he is. It’s not who you are, though.”

“It’s not.” You agreed, softly.

Geto moved to perch on your bed, but you swatted his shoulder, silently gesturing at his bloody clothing. He nodded, an amused glint in his eyes, as he moved to politely kneel on the floor. You climbed out of your bed to sit next to him, shivering slightly at the iciness of the wooden floorboards. Stretching your legs in front of you, you slowly exhaled.

At least he was safe, right?

To be honest, you still didn’t really know what to think of it. It’s not something you had even thought to prepare yourself for. You’d miss him if he left, you knew that. He knew that you didn’t enjoy being a sorcerer, and you were a little pissed that he had used it against you, but he wasn’t wrong. Being a curse user with him didn’t sound half bad, either. It wasn’t an easy decision to make though and he had to understand that.

“We need to get you out of those clothes.” You murmured.

Geto looked at you, “Do you even have anything I can change into?”

You shook your head, “I can stop by your room, I’ll get a bath running.”

“We can’t.” He replied, “I don’t want to be seen.”

“It’s 2am, Geto.” You said shortly after sparing a glance at your clock, “We’ll be fine.”

Geto looked hesitant as you stood up, offering him a hand.

The walk to the bathroom was silent as you snuck past the dorms. Gojo and Shoko were long asleep, so being caught wasn’t too much of a concern. After retrieving a few bits from Geto’s room, you crept into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. The tiles were cold under your bare feet, but you paid it no mind as you turned the bath tap on, waiting for the water to run hot. Behind you, Geto changed out of his ruined uniform, and you willed yourself not to look. Silence settled over the two of you again, but you knew this time it was because you were deep in thought. Once the tub was full, you turned the tap off, stepping back to allow Geto to climb in. He thanked you softly before stepping in, but your eyes were fixed on the floor as your cheeks heated. When you looked up again, you saw that he was mostly submerged by the water, the ends of his inky hair soaked and curling as it floated in the crystalline water. He watched you expectantly, his gaze sweet and warm, like honey, as you rolled your sleeves up.

Carefully, you poured some of the water over his hair using a cup. You then reached for the shampoo. After pouring a dollop onto your palms, you massaged it onto his scalp. He leaned back, sighing softly as you washed his hair, fingernails gently scratching his skull.

“Where are you going next?” You started, continuing to wash his hair.

Geto hummed pensively, “Who knows… Where do you want to go?”

Your hands froze in place. “I never said I’d go.”

“Right,” Geto said, “but you will, won’t you?”

“No.” You replied, defensively.

“No?” He sounded amused.

“Nope.”

“In that case, maybe I’ll go abroad…”

You swallowed, “How far?”

“Maybe somewhere pretty like Croatia.”

“…That’s far.”

“It is.” Geto agreed.

“Can I convince you to stay?”

“Nope.”

“Ok.” You frowned, resuming the movement of your fingers in his hair. After a moment you stopped again, “What if I promised to join you later?”

Geto sat up.

“I have too many loose ends,” You added, “I don’t want to regret this.”

“How long?”

You exhaled, slowly, “Maybe a year or two?”

Geto looked at you over his shoulder, his stare dark, “That’s long.”

“Well,” Meeting his gaze, you raised an eyebrow, “I hope you’re willing to wait for me, then.”

“I am.” His response was quick, maybe even too quick as it took you off guard.

“Ok.” You nodded slowly, “That works.”

The rest of the bath was quiet, the two of you in contemplating the decisions being made. Only the lulling waves of the water, lapping against the white porcelain tub, alongside both of your soft breaths filled the otherwise silent room. Geto’s hair was silky as you ran your fingers through it. In the light of the bathroom, you noticed how the finer strands looked more chocolate than black, notes of hazel glittering amongst the glistening, dark locks. You squeezed the excess water out of his hair, then dried your hands on your trousers. Afterwards, you moved to stand in front of the bath so that you could see his face. He looked elegant. It seemed that he had either lost, or chosen not to wear his gauges as his gaping earlobes hung, empty. You realised then that you had never seen him without them before. It was different. Previously, you had brushed his hair away from his face, allowing you to see him without obstruction, and you thanked yourself for it now. His face was chiselled, everything about him seeming so sharp from his cheekbones, to his jawline. There seemed to be more colour behind his tanned skin, at least more than there used to be. The purple blotching under his brooding eyes was still there from months of exhaustion, but his facial expressions no longer held that lingering fatigue anymore. He looked healthier, happier even, than he had for a while. Geto’s thin eyebrows were raised as he stared at you, no doubt because you were staring at him. You couldn’t help it though, the way droplets tumbled down his broad shoulders was hypnotising and you almost wanted to condemn the water for concealing the rest of his body under a thick layer of bubbles.

“Are you done?” Geto drawled, sounding equal parts charmed and bored.

You cocked your head, furrowing your eyebrows, “No, not quite.” You muttered, absentmindedly.

He really was beautiful.

In that moment you understood every girl who had given you death glares for standing with him, and every girl who had boldly asked for his number. God knows, you’d be too scared to. You pitied that they were never able to see him like this. Every girl deserved this at least once, you thought, it was definitely more therapeutic than anything a psychiatrist could offer you.

Lethargically, you stretched your arms above your head, yawning. “Ok, yeah I’m done.”

For a second, it seemed that Geto was trying to glare at you, but starting with the slight twitch of his mouth, he broke into soft, flustered laughter.

“Fuck,” He ran a hand over his face. “You really are something, aren’t you?”

Suddenly unsure of how to respond, you looked at him, wide-eyed, your cheeks burning.

Geto smiled at you affectionately, “Just pass me my towel, please.”

You nodded, reaching for the white, fluffy towel you had left out for him. When Geto made a move to get out, you covered your eyes.

“I was meaning to ask,” His voice sounded somewhere behind you, “how come you’re still wearing your uniform?”

Oh yeah.

“I didn’t exactly intend to fall asleep like this, you know.” Your hand moved from your face to pull at the creased fabric, self-consciously. “I was kinda distracted yesterday.”

“Oh?” The rustling of Geto’s clothing paused. “How come?”

You scoffed, “Because you went missing? I had the news on and everything.”

“You did?” He cooed, teasingly, pulling a shirt over his head, judging from what you could hear.

“…Yes.” You scowled.

The way he said your name after that was far softer than you had ever heard it before. It made you feel warm in every nook and cranny of your body, like fire spreading from your cheeks, and flickering inwards to consume your beating heart. When you felt his hand land on your shoulder, you tensed, chewing on the inside of your cheek with anticipation.

“I’m sorry.” He said, voice low and smooth.

You turned to see him changed into a white t-shirt and grey joggers. “Really?”

Geto nodded, “I didn’t realise that you’d worry.”

“Of course I would.” You looked up at him, carefully studying his face.

“I know it’s selfish but… I’m glad you did.”

His confession made you smile warmly.

“Stay the night.” It wasn’t a question, you knew that he wouldn’t be able to find a hotel room at this time.

Geto shook his head, “You know I can’t, my room is directly next to Satoru’s. It’s too risky.”

You rolled your eyes, fondly, “Stay in mine, then. Shoko won’t wake up until 3 in the afternoon.”

He opened his mouth to protest.

“This is non-negotiable, by the way.” You added.

His mouth closed.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

By the time Geto had tucked himself into your bed, you had changed into pyjamas. It was cute seeing him snuggled next to your plushies, it just seemed so… right. You climbed in next to him, unable to close the gap between you, despite yourself. Admittedly, you had been expecting some kind of argument over who would take the bed and who would offer to sleep on the floor but end up taking the bed anyway, but much to your relief, Geto seemed too exhausted to care. You weren’t going to complain. For a while, you just watched each other, wordlessly, eyes half-lidded.

“Will you be gone when I wake up?”

You knew the answer, but you asked anyway.

Geto shifted under the covers, brushing his hand against yours. “Probably.”

“Shame.”

He watched you for a moment, moving his hand to cup your cheek. Like many times that night, you met his gentle gaze, leaning into his touch, gingerly.

“A year is a long time.” Geto murmured.

You agreed.

“It’s a long time to wait to do something I’ve been wanting to do for months.”

Fuck anything you had said before about being tired, you were wide awake.

“Excuse me?”

Geto smiled at you, lopsidedly, “Sorry if I read you wrong but… I like you. I really do.”

“And…” You swallowed.

“I want to say goodbye to you… properly.”

Fuck.

“I’d like that, Geto.” You whispered.

Before you knew it, he was on top of you, muscular thighs hugging your hips. You sat up, hands reaching to pull him down by his collar. When your lips crashed into his, you felt euphoric. As his warm lips moved against yours, your hands moved to his hips, slipping under his t-shirt to trace the ridges of his abs. You felt his muscles tense as you touched them, paired with a low ‘fuck’, whispered into your mouth. When Geto leaned back to peel his shirt off, you instantly missed his body, but the sight of his torso in full was… jaw-dropping. Without doubt, you knew that he was the kind of man that the Ancient Greeks erected temples for. Everything about him was beautiful, from the dusky areola which orbited his nipples, to the trail of hair below his navel. You swallowed, running your hands up his torso. In response, Geto leaned down, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

Next to go was your shirt, which ended up on your floor next to his. Geto’s hands were quick to cup your breasts, fingers brushing the sensitive nubs as he gently squeezed them. You whimpered, softly, looking up at his focused face.

“Please…” You arched your back, pushing your chest towards him. He swore under his breath before pushing you down so you were horizontal. In an act of fleeting tenderness, he brushed your hair from your face, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, before attacking your neck with bites and kisses. You gasped as his hands roamed downwards, grazing over your stomach before his fingers strayed under your waistband. He paused his work on your neck to look up at you, silently checking on you with a sweet smile. You nodded, slipping one of your hands into his damp hair as you guided his head back to your neck. Without hesitation, he started pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin, no doubt leaving a myriad of marks. When his hand breached your pyjama bottoms, cupping your cunt with excruciating affection, your stomach erupted with butterflies.

“How- do you- want- me?” He asked you between kisses, nose buried in the crook of your neck.

You swore, hips uselessly pushing against his touch, “I’m really not picky.” You rushed, becoming more and more desperate for his touch.

Geto snorted, pressing a gentle kiss against the column of your throat, “That’s not very helpful, sweetheart.”

“Just- touch me!” You whined, impatiently, your grip on his hair tightening. As you tugged, Geto made a low noise at the back of his throat.

“Whore.” You laughed breathlessly as he playfully bit down on your neck, his fingers finally slipping between your folds.

Geto smirked into your neck and you could feel it. “I wouldn’t be getting so cocky, if I were you.” He warned, circling your clit with his fingertip.

“Do your worst.” You grinned, pulling his face back to yours to make out with him again. When you pulled his hair again, he moaned against your lips oh-so prettily, fuelling the burning lust inside of you. You were hyper-aware of every graze of his skin against you, somehow his fingers against you felt 10 times better than you own and it made you insatiable. You could feel the coil in your lower stomach begin to snap as Geto’s tongue fucked your mouth, shamelessly moaning against your tongue. You were so close, soso close…

Geto pulled away, watching you with a grin. “Sorry, sweetheart.” He kissed your cheek, apologetically, “I’m impatient, and I really fucking need you right now.”

Despite your initial frustration, his words set your heart alite as you whined. He grunted as he lifted his hips, enabling you to kick your pyjama bottoms off, hastily. When you spread your legs for him, he sat back, using his middle and index finger to spread your dripping folds.

“Fuck.” He breathed, pressing his thumb against your entrance, “You’re soaked.”

Your hips involuntarily jutted into his touch, desperately searching for more.

“Geto, please.” You begged, hands clenching your sheets. His eyes flickered up to yours, his gaze dark.

“Suguru.” He muttered, starting to palm himself through his joggers, “Please. Call me Suguru.”

In the moonlight, the outline of his cock looked more impressive than any Renaissance painting you’d ever seen. You needed him so badly it hurt.

“Fuck, Suguru…” You pressed your thighs together, needily, as you watched him pull his joggers down, his cock hard and heavy, springing to stand against his lower stomach.

He was big.

No fuck that, he was massive.

You knew you had never even tried anything that big in your life, but maybe it was the way his precum dribbled down his thick shaft, you didn’t feel nervous at all.

Geto leaned in to kiss you softly, uttering gentle praise as he pressed his leaking tip to your entrance. Your fingers found purchase around his neck, fingernails digging in at the ache of the intrusion.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Geto groaned against your lips, “Fuck, you feel so good, so fucking wet for me…”

Once he was halfway in, he slowed to kiss your cheek. “Such a good fucking girl.”

Impatiently, you rocked your hips against him, making him slide in further. You moaned, gasping at the feeling of being so full.

Geto wasn’t faring so well either, letting low whines slip as he inched in a little more until his hips were flush with yours.

His eyes met yours desperately, “You ok?” He swallowed, watching you carefully as you adjusted.

“Mhm.” You uttered, weakly, “You can move.”

Geto nodded, cheeks flushed, as he experimentally fucked into you, the steady slapping of your skin speeding up as you begged him for more. With a groan, he buried his head in your neck, releasing soft pants and grunts against your bruised skin. You cried out, nails raking down his back as his pace bordered on lethal as he pounded into you, forcing your body up and down your bed.

“Mhmm, ‘Sugu!” You whined, arching your back as he pressed inside of you. Geto nipped your neck, hands securing your hips as he changed his angle, hitting that sweet spot inside of you that made you drool.

“Right there- right there- please-“

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he abused your cunt, the wetness soaking the insides of your thighs and no doubt Geto’s crotch as well.

“Right there?” He teased, but his voice was husky and it was clear he was approaching his peak from the way he grunted after. One of his hands moved from its position on your hips, instead pressing down on your lower stomach. You wailed, thrashing against him as the burning pressure in your lower stomach climbed. You were so close.

“Fuck, please- Suguru I need you-” You were cut off by Geto’s lips as his hand moved to where you needed it the most, his fingers rubbing your sensitive clit. His pace sped up as he chased his own orgasm, the heat of your core irresistible to him.

“Fuck.” Geto groaned, “Can I?”

Your thighs tightened around his waist against your will. “Fuck no.” You hissed between kisses.

“Shit.”

It was too good, you didn’t want him to pull out, and you knew sure as hell that he didn’t either. You couldn’t risk it though.

With a final pinch of your swollen clit, you came, legs shaking and fingers tugging at his hair as you cried out. Geto wasn’t far behind, swearing as he pulled out despite your legs trapping him in.

With a few final tugs of his length, he came on your stomach, panting as he watched his spend dripped down your thighs.

“Fuck.”

“…Yeah…”

You closed your eyes, basking in the sleepiness of the aftermath. Somewhere next to you, Geto moved, leaning over you before you felt soft fabric on your lower stomach, cleaning up his mess on your body and your own mess between your thighs.

“Thanks.” You muttered, sleepily.

When Geto finally lay down next to you, he pulled you into his arms, kissing your forehead tenderly.

“I’ll see you again one day.” He whispered against your skin.

“You will.” You murmured, ignoring the lump in your throat, “One day.”

Geto released a content hum which vibrated in his chest and throat.

“I miss you already.”

#angst #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jujustsu kaisen x reader #geto x reader #jjk smut #jjk shoko #comfort #jjk angst #jjk comfort #jjk fluff #fluff

344 notes · View notes

manicpixiefelix · 4 months

Text

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 2.

Summary: Felix and Y/N's first year of university means being more open with how close they are, while perhaps growing a little more distant than Felix would like. Also the Catton family have bestowed Y/N their own title, which Felix hates, and Y/N and Farleigh have a moment of connection over Christmas.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader with Felix, Venetia, and Farleigh in this chapter. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: Smut (reader bottoming but their gender is not made explicit), Degrading language (reader is referred to as as dog & pet)

A/N: 3071 words. i definitely meant to get to the start of their second year/first run in with Oli..... but this chapter got long enough, so instead we'll meet Oliver at the start of the next chapter and instead we get Felix and Reader at university, best friends who hook up shenanigans, Venetia being a pot-stirrer because she likes to rile up her brother, and Farleigh and Y/N bonding and boning. i feel like the pacing is a bit strange so id love some feedback <3 ALSO I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT UK COLLEGE CALANDERS IM SO SORRY LOL

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo

----

To absolutely no-ones surprise, least of all yours, Felix takes to the social aspects of college like a duck to water. Neither of you missed a single day or night of activities during first year orientation, and you both left the various pubs and bars with a different hook up each night.

Felix sees a poster for a band in town, and crows with laughter as he talks about how his mother would hate if he ever got a piercing, but you know the look in his eye too well, and tell him there's a piercing place a block away.

"God I miss Farleigh," you sigh with a smile, watching him size himself up in the mirror of the tattoo parlour where the piercer had drawn approximate dots to mark his soon-to-be eyebrow piercing.

"Oh he'd love this, wouldn't he?" Felix agrees, grinning from ear to ear, catching your gaze in the reflection. Despite the piercer's reassurance that it doesn't actually hurt that bad, Felix plays up the bit of being concerned, insisting that you hold his hand.

It's easier in this environment to be affectionate. Perhaps its the way that all nights liked to blur together, lips and teeth and tongues and hands, and you find yourself invited to parties and into bedrooms and Felix is in the crowd, pupils wide and drugs in his blood and knowing you can take care of yourself.

Fruit flies mistaking his light in the night for the rot they're used to.

That being said, while of course Felix is gorgeous and the life of the party, your own magnetic aura and love features draw in your own crowd of admirers; you proximity to Felix was merely a perk.

You yourself find yourself blooming at college; with a far stronger sense of identity than you'd had for most of your teenage years, you shed many of your adolescent insecurities and begin to embrace yourself and the people around you as more than just Felix's friends.

"I miss you," he teases, eyes shiny and pupils huge, looking at you with that look that made everyone else weak in the knees. The two of you are crammed too close in a booth at a club, everyone else having left to dance or find something interesting to snort in the bathrooms.

"I'm always around, Fi," you murmur, just as high, lips twisted into a bleary smile, your finger beneath his chin to lift his face to you.

"They love you here," he grinned, lips inches from yours, skin glowing with sweat from the adrenaline and high of the night, "knew they would," it's not especially jealous, more proud, and you sigh against his lips with the kind of warm contentment his praise always brings you.

"Don't care if they love me," you say, very tellingly, voice low and flirty. Anyone could see the two of you, but the unspoken rules of high school had fallen away; the rules of college seemed to prioritise a lack of judgement, especially with the people you surrounded yourself with. Felix giggles, flushing red, leaning into your touch, leaning even heavier against you in the little, otherwise empty booth.

"You miss me, Fi?" You prompt, letting his face go as you wrap an arm around him, drawing you in close to him. Despite his height, he folds himself up to lean into you. Felix giggles again, mostly to himself, clearly shitfaced, without answering, he angles his face up to press a kiss to your neck, "we see each other every day, we still fuck around, we -"

"Do you think I could live without you?" He asks suddenly, and surprisingly frankly. His chin is on your shoulder, eyes wide and demanding an answer. It's not a joke, nor some strange attempt at flirting, and your throat turns dry as the lights spin around you both.

"You're drunk," you tell him gently, "and high."

"Why would I ask that?" He frowns, suddenly, sitting up, as if he's talking more to himself than you, "that's a fucked question actually, sorry Y/N, I shouldn't have -"

"I think it's more about how you feel about it." You tell him gently, "we should get water. You sit here, I'll get it."

You're unsteady on your feet when you head to the bar, collecting two cups of water, almost overflowing, from the end, trying not to think about it all. It didn't matter either way, how he thought or felt about it. It was a foolish, drunken question, it doesn't matter. Right?

Except he's bopping back and forth in his seat, tapping the rhythm with surprising success on the table top, eyes shining in the light where all he seems to look at is you. Felix grin wide and bright, thanks already in his smile before the words reach his lips as you sit back down next to him.

You could live without him, but you know you'd never want to, so long as he'd want you around.

"Think I'd rather die than live without you," he says with little prompting, holding the cup with both hands as he downs half in a single gulp. What?

"What?"

He turns those perfect, brown eyes upon you like you don't already live your life in his shape, like he hadn't validated every choice you'd made since you'd met him. He smiles.

"You're my best mate, you're always good to me and help me with shit and never get mad at all the dumb ideas I have and you've made sure I haven't gotten kicked out of any schools, even if I probably deserved it," he rambles and takes another drink, this time choosing to look out at the nauseating crowd of haze and lights and bodies, "I love you, I don't think I could live without you."

"Is that why you miss me?" Your voice is barely audible above the music, but Felix still hears it. Putting his mostly empty cup on the table, he shoves his shoulder against yours, refusing to let up until his full weight is against you, the two of you toppling down in the booth, him draped over you wearing the absolute goofiest grin. It's a good reminder that you're both incredibly drunk.

"Just miss you."

You stumble out of the bar together, and back to the dorms. Felix is insistent that you stay with him.

"No funny business," he mumbles against your ear, breath hot and smirk in his voice, "promise."

"You couldn't get it up if you tried," you snorted, "whiskey dick." Though he tries to protest, you gently elbow him in the ribs and he sulkily admits that you're probably right. Still, in the warmth of his room and the two of you stripped to your underwear, it's kind of irresistible to not make out like teenagers for a good while. You get you both glasses of water to put on the nightstand, and Felix tells you he loves you while on the brink of sleep.

"Love you too, Fi."

"Couldn't live without you, meant it," he hiccups, cracking an eye to smirk up at you from where he's splayed out on the bed, "probably."

"Don't think I could live without you either," you shuffle yourself into the bed beside him, letting him roll over to wrap an arm around you, "even if you are a fucking wanker sometimes," you grin, and hear him laugh into his pillow.

Felix has more game than anyone you've ever met without even trying, stealing and breaking hearts from all areas of the university. You watch it happen with amusement as you find your own slew of pretty guys and girls to keep you company when you feel like it. Still, for all the charisma and charm Felix had been blessed with, his touch-starved nature becomes both a blessing and a curse when he finds himself drunk and tactile and desperate for touch.

A desperate, affection Felix loses all of those carefully-curated social barriers that the two of you had put between yourselves as teenagers in public. Girls are more open and supportive around here; perhaps you should be offended, that many, once they learn he's prone to clinging to you, to kissing you, they end up rationalising it. It doesn't count.

Or perhaps they think they can shift the affection to themselves. Felix always learns to be more affectionate to them, but will find himself with you more often than he's not.

And those girls don't even know about the sex.

"I think about you," he huffs between short, jagged breaths, with you bent over the end of his bed, "is that weird?"

His latest breakup isn't even twelve hours old yet, but when you'd showed up at his room with a six-pack of beers and the offer to let him vent, he'd taken it without hesitation. While they hadn't been going out for long, she'd been pretty, but an apparently lousy fuck. When you'd jokingly offered to remind him what a decent lay was like, Felix had genuinely jumped at the chance.

"A bit - ah," you mused for a moment, hips rocking back to meet his in a pleasant rhythm. He takes a pause to tap one of your ankles with his foot, and you adjust your stance to be a bit wider, "what context? Just in general - fuck, Fi, there," and you find yourself lost for words as he presses his hand against the small of your back. His pace remains steady as he fucks you, and you obliging lean further down; he knows you well, know how to fuck you just the way you both enjoy.

Then you're in his bed, straddling him, riding him with his hands on your hips, your thighs, bouncing as his nails dig pleasantly into your skin.

"Think about me?" You finally continue, breathless, and something about the way he holds you steady, lets you pause as he laughs, flushed cheeks growing even more read, makes you grin too, "you mean like this, don't you?" And you rolled your hips, eliciting a groan from him that was like music to your ears.

"Shut up," he'd laughed, giving you a squeeze, unable to meet your gaze.

"Did you ever call out my name?" You lean down, across him, and for a moment his hands slide up your body to wrap around your neck, bringing you in for a gentle kiss.

"Thankfully not."

"Still, those poor girls," you teased.

"Poor me," Felix argued, "having to try and power through terrible sex while thinking about someone who's not even there, just because I know you're better at it," and he played at pouting for a moment, looking for sympathy.

"You really didn't have to tell me all this," you laughed, sitting back up and setting a gentle pace, smiling down at him, "you're such a perv." When his fingertips trail down your body, a shiver runs down your spine. There's this look in his eyes for just a moment, something knowing, something teasing, something you'd seen on occasion that made you feel so wanted and seen and -

He likes you knowing.

"You gonna give me something to think about?" That tone of voice, the teasing, the faintest hint of authority, like he's pretending like he doesn't know all the ways you'd debauch yourself if only he asked.

Venetia gets you a collar for Christmas, and Farleigh's already been kicked out of several universities by the time your first Winter break had arrived.

"Oh Pet, that's so cute," Elspeth coos at the designer, velvet collar that Venetia had smugly handed over while Felix had scowled, "is that Cartier?" Much to Felix's dismay, Elspeth and Sir James have apparently taken to calling you Pet as a pet name. He blames his sister entirely.

"Pet's easier, sweetheart," Elspeth had tried to argue when you'd sat down at your first breakfast of the Winter break at Saltburn, and she'd asked Duncan 'don't forget about our dear pet'. Naturally Felix had frowned the entire time while arguing with his parents, who insisted it's easier to use Pet than a whole new set of names and pronouns.

"It's been years mum, how have you not adjusted?" He demands, while you have shrunken in your chair and tried to divine life's secrets from your breakfast.

"What do you think, Pet?" Venetia said with a venomous kind of sweetness. Looking up at her, she's wearing this smug kind of smile, directed not at you but at Felix next to you. When you look to him, you see Farleigh across the table trying to hide his amusement in several pieces of toast eaten with no break in between.

"I think," you paused, looking past an annoyed Felix to his mother at the head of the table, "that if you want to call me Pet, you can, I think it's sweet, but please don't expect Felix to refer to me as such," you said with a surprising amount of firmness. Then after a beat of surprise from the rest of the table, you took a deep breath, "and for events and guests, I really wouldn't appreciate being introduced as such."

"Of course," Elspeth quickly amends, adding, "Y/N," for good measure.

"It's a pet name, Pet," Sir James gives an awkward little smile, nodding in agreement. Farleigh met your gaze for a moment, and you could see only the bread was keeping his laughter from spilling out. Beside you, Felix relaxes, and finally you look at him. Dark, serious eyes, with something grateful shining faintly in the morning sun.

Of course you let him throw Venetia's collar gift in the fire in front of her, despite her protests.

You get used to the sweet way the Cattons refer to you as Pet; as much as Felix despised it's connotations when it came from his sister, there was something comforting, something almost secure about the way the whole family had picked it up so easily.

"Was wondering where I'd find you," Farleigh's voice is warm while you're raiding the expansive kitchen for some kind of easy midnight snack. You could have asked one of the many staff members who reside on the property, but you hadn't wanted to bother them over probably some crisps.

"Farleigh!" You light up upon hearing his voice, turning, refrigerator door still open in your hand. He approaches, and you close the refrigerator, hugging him tightly, "oh this is great, it's been so long since it's been just us!"

"Darling pet," he says with a surprising amount of gentleness.

"You should come to Oxford, Fi and I miss you terribly," you tell him, leaning into his touch with a sincere smile as he holds your face gently, while you still hold him is a loose embrace.

"I've already been accepted into another college; you'll be fine without me," and he grins, kissing you on the nose, pressing a kiss to each cheek, "pet." He adds, almost to himself, and your face falls as you think about what he'd said.

"Everything's better with you," you insist, "and you'd love it; we could party like we did that Summer in France, but every weekend -!" Farleigh cuts you off with his lips against yours; you can taste the sweet smile he's wearing before he deepens the kiss.

Later, in Farleigh's bed, bathed in moonlight and the afterglow, you light up a cigarette and open his window.

"Fucking freezing," Farleigh mutters.

"Sorry," but you don't close the window. Silence stretches out between you both. You hope Farleigh enjoyed himself, hope he's happy -

"You don't need them," he says quietly, staring up at the ceiling. After a moment, you breathe out a lungful of smoke and turn to him with a frown, "this family; we all know where you're from. You don't need them." There's something strange about his tone, clearing his throat when he finally looks at you, "but you still want them to love you."

"They're good to me," you finally say, dropping your gaze as you reach back to offer the cigarette, "to us," you tell him, and he hums with the smoke in his lungs. Then, taking back the cigarette, you inhale the sour-sweet smoke and tap off the ash off the window sill.

"I'm not their fucking dog, Farleigh," you mumble, surprising frustration escaping you, anger you hadn't even realised you were holding on to.

"I know, pet," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, "you'll let them think they have you kept, but you're not their dog, I know."

"I like you, Farleigh," you say with a faint smile, leaning back to see the way he's grinning too, "and I love you a bit as well I think."

"I know, I love you too, Y/N."

"We miss you a lot." There's something about the quiet that follows your words that you know all too well; Farleigh's about to tease you for something. Probably Felix related.

As if on cue;

"Does he know you like being his dog?" Grin widening, Farleigh gives you a slight shove, though the truth of his words has you hiding your own embarrassed smile.

"He thinks it's an insult to me, which is sweet of him," you chuckled, and Farleigh eases the cigarette from your fingers, "but it's like he has no idea the effect he's had on me for over a decade now. Yeah, I'm my own person, I have hobbies and friends outside of him, but -"

"You're a service bottom and desperately in love," Farleigh cuts in with a surprisingly sage tone, nodding like he hadn't absolutely called you out. Shocked with his vulgar kind of accuracy, you practically shove him out of the bed, laughing that he needs to fuck off, and the discussion is left at that.

The next morning, sitting down to breakfast, Duncan quietly informs Sir James that there had been a disturbance during the night. Immediately you throw Farleigh under the bus and declare that it's his fault.

"Hey!" He shouts back, grinning, "it takes two to fuck in the kitchen!" Which has all four of you, Venetia, Felix, Farleigh, and yourself, cracking up with laughter as Elspeth and Sir James were exasperated by your collective antics.

There is so much affection in Felix's eyes in this moment, this simple, strange moment of admitted sexual deviance. Except it's never felt like that to either of you. It's one of the ways you've both shown love, and he loves that you love those closest to him.

And you love to make him happy.

Farleigh was right, not that you'd ever tell him.

#felix catton imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #saltburn imagine #saltburn x reader #farleigh x reader #farleigh start x reader #farleigh start imagine #farleigh imagine #farleigh start x you #farleigh x you #head heart hand fic #manic writer

651 notes · View notes

emoangel44 · 8 months

Text

i have a lot to say about the ace attorney fandoms obsession with morphing every single character relationship into nuclear family dynamics but ill always think the weirdest example is people acting like phoenix is a father to apollo. id honestly even call him being a mentor to apollo to be a stretch. it feels like apollo barely tolerates him half the time, and definitely doesnt trust him. the first time they meet phoenix tricks apollo into using forged evidence and then continues to antagonize him and deliberately keep him the dark about stuff that involves him for the rest of the game and beyond. the only reason phoenix even hired him was because he thought his perceive ability would be useful in his big 5d chess bullshit with kristoph. he never even apologizes and we dont actually see their relationship improve very much from this. most of the aa4 plot threads were ditched in aa5 and even in that game apollo had a whole arc about not feeling like he could trust his coworkers. their relationship is really “annoying boss that can be kind of cool sometimes” at absolute best. it also just generally feels really infantilizing to have a man in his 20s be “adopted” by someone only about a decade older than him and it really removes apollos agency to completely ignore how he actually feels about phoenix to service some sort of fan narrative

#ace attorney #apollo justice #phoenix wright #aa4

1K notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 8 months

Note

If you are still taking requests I would love some Jason Todd!

There's a couple of ways to ID a soulmate, but the traditional–and usual–one is a kiss. Basically any exchange of bodily fluids will do it, of course, but most people kiss way before they get around to fucking bareback and a kiss is also definitely less likely to result in hepatitis than swapping blood with strangers. And, like, it's also more romantic and that tends to appeal to people more even when the involved soulmates aren't actually romantic. Like it's way easier to laugh off that one time you slipped your destined BFF tongue than it is to explain a bloodborne illness to your GP.

So naturally, Jason finds out who his soulmate is by accidentally bleeding all over the guy in the middle of a random stupid throwdown with supervillains in San Francisco.

Also, naturally said guy is Tim's boyfriend who still justifiably hates Jason's ass for all the fucked up shit he's done and said to Tim.

Jason is pretty sure this would count as another reason for Superboy to hate his ass, except the one mercy in this situation is that Superboy was unconscious for their accidental blood-swap, so he at least doesn't know they're soulmates.

The lucky bastard.

Fuck everything, Jason thinks, and then resolves to never think about it again. Which he doesn't, because even having a thought around Bruce is basically the same thing as handing the bastard a signed confession.

It sucks, admittedly? Like, Jason's not gonna pretend it doesn't suck. He didn't ever think he'd get a coffee shop meet-cute with his soulmate, assuming he had enough of a soul left to actually have one, but he'd at least expected to get somebody who wasn't already dating the brother he's treated worst and who did not, ideally, hate his guts.

Or who at least hated his guts in a sexy way that could result in a nice enemies-with-benefits situation to spice up his sex life and maybe hopefully one day evolve into . . . he doesn't know, frenemies-with-benefits? Or something?

Superboy is not gonna be up for cheating on his boyfriend with said boyfriend's adoptive brother, Jason is very damn sure. For one thing, if he was, Jason wouldn't want to fuck him anyway, much less be his soulmate. Jason is a murderer and a bastard but he is also a ride or die, okay, and he doesn't give a shit what the universe says, there is no damn way that he'd accept a soulmate like that.

Also, like, since the accidental blood-swap went down, now when they get close enough there's an empathy bond going and Jason can absolutely feel how fucking <i>besotted</i> Superboy is by every little thing Tim does and says and just is.

And he can also feel how much the guy hates him.

Jason has never had better control of his pit rage than since realizing that if Superboy ever felt it, it'd be absolutely undeniably obvious what it was and where it was coming from.

It is fucking amazing what a desperate person can get a handle on. Like, really.

Jason went to fucking therapy for this shit. It sucks and he hates it and he wants to burn down the whole stupid office every time, but he's still going every week because fuck forbid he lose control enough that somebody realize something is up.

Jason's self-control is not helped by the fact that Superboy has his own anger issues, but it's not like they get all that close to each other all that often anyway. He very rarely has to worry about Superboy picking up on anything from him. Mostly he just has to worry about not being any worse to Tim than he already has been and making excuses to avoid any situation that Superboy might theoretically pop up in. He has absolutely no designs on fucking up Tim's relationship. Ever.

He guesses he and Superboy could have a platonic bond, admittedly. Like, that's possible.

Except Superboy constantly insists on wearing a painted-on bodysuit and studded black leather and strappy belts and looking like a porn star parody of a superhero, along with regularly smirking like a cocky asshole who just so happens to be the second coming of sin, and Jason has a very difficult time not finding all of that just unspeakably hot, so that seems unlikely.

So yeah, Jason's definitely not telling anyone that they're soulmates. Possibly ever. At least not as long as Superboy and Tim are still into each other and in undeniably perfect romantic love, anyway.

It's not like Jason's waiting for them to break up or something, or for the probably likelier but much more upsetting option that is Tim fucking dying. He's a bastard, again, but he's not that kind of a bastard.

He really hopes this is just one of those bullshit bonds that don't actually become relevant until the involved bondmates are, like, octogenarians or whatever. Which is not something Jason would've ever expected to want from his soulmate, but Jason also did not ever expect his soulmate to turn out to be Tim's boyfriend, so yeah. Well, life's a bitch and also full of surprises.

It's impossible to always avoid Superboy, all things considered, but Jason usually can, and thanks to Bat-training and his time with the League and just who he is as a person he's very good at keeping his emotions on lockdown when the dude's around without it actually looking like he's keeping his emotions on lockdown. Mostly he just ignores him and acts like he thinks he's irrelevant, and Superboy seems perfectly happy with that.

But again, it's impossible to always avoid him, and they're on the same side and everything, more or less. Jason therefore can't technically bitch about the guy randomly landing in the middle of his rooftop stakeout wearing that cocky asshole smirk of his and also his painted-on bodysuit and studded black leather.

Or he couldn't, except that it is very obviously not actually Superboy wearing all those things. For starters, Superboy never wears that smirk when he's looking at Jason.

For another thing, Jason knows his own damn soulmate when he sees him. Like, he is not actually that oblivious or stupid a person as to not recognize his own damn soulmate.

"Hey, man," fake Superboy greets casually as his boots hit the roof. Jason runs the internal numbers on whether or not fake Superboy has real Kryptonian powers and decides better safe than sorry, then hits the panic button hidden in the collar of his jacket as he turns to fully face him, making the gesture look like an idle adjustment.

"Robin need something?" he asks, cocking his head questioningly. Seems wisest to pretend like he's falling for this bullshit, whatever it is. Especially if Kryptonian powers are currently a concern.

"Naw," the fake Superboy says, his smirk widening crookedly. "This one's an . . . off-the-books social call, as it were."

"Oh, we make social calls, now?" Jason asks dryly, resisting the irrational urge to hit his panic button again. Not actually a helpful urge, that. The thing's already streaming live audio and video to Oracle and the Batcomputer to get everyone in the loop on what the problem is, that's all that matters. Extra hitting would just make it likelier that fake Superboy might notice something.

"Maybe I just wanted to see you, Hood," fake Superboy says as his smirk turns into a wicked grin, and steps towards Jason with very familiar and incredibly unsubtle body language that, again, has never once been directed towards him.

Goddammit.

Well, good thing Jason hit his panic button, because there is no damn way this is ending well. He's never actually used the thing before, it's a recent addition to his gear now that he and the Bats are actually mostly working together again, but he already appreciates said addition very, very much.

Assuming that Bruce is packing kryptonite tonight, anyway.

Fuck, he'd better be.

. . . also assuming that whoever this fake Superboy is happens to be vulnerable to kryptonite. Or at least currently happens to be vulnerable to kryptonite. Jason's not sure if this is like a bodyswap situation or a more traditional possession or just a doppelganger or a shapeshifter, but who the hell even knows. Not mind control, he's pretty sure, unless it's the kind that really fucks with somebody's personality. Like, yes, that is Superboy's body language and Superboy's facial expressions and even Superboy's microexpressions, but it's just . . . not Superboy behind any of it. Like, very obviously not.

. . . weirdly obviously, actually. Like, Jason's really feeling the uncanny valley right now.

Ugh.

Well, hopefully this person or thing or weird psychic projection thinks he's fucking stupid.

"Did you now," Jason says, eyeing fake Superboy through his helmet. Schooling his expression doesn't really matter right now, except of course X-ray vision is a thing, so actually never mind, maybe it does. Again: goddammit.

Definitely gonna need to keep a handle on his heart rate here.

"Eh, what can I say, Rob was being a basic bitch again and I got bored," fake Superboy says with a dismissive shrug, which is something Jason would pistol-whip the real Superboy for saying but at least provides him a pretty solid script to go off while he waits for reinforcements to show.

He'd rather be making with the pistol-whipping, though.

#jason todd #red hood #batman #jaykon #rinfic #miri-tiazan #long post #wip: jaykon soulmates and timkon datemates

413 notes · View notes

mysterycitrus · 4 months

Note

Hiii can i ask ur thoughts abt damian... lately ive been a little obsessed and u have such a great grasp on dc canon... id love to hear what u think abt him !!!

for damian, a huge part of his motivation is (both real and imagined) disrespect. there’s this pervasive interpretation of him where he’s a swing the sword first, ask questions later kinda guy, but the truth is that he gets provoked, interprets this as someone being condescending, then acts.

tim is kind of an asshole when they first meet, and damian has no context for when he’s joking or not. dick is an adopted child, who threatens damian’s place in the hierarchy. tim put him on a list of people he specifically doesn’t trust, etc. he can definitely be very rude, absolutely, and a lot of that ties into how addresses people (“grayson” to “richard,” as an example, from his surname to his first name as dick earns his trust). he’s very rude to steph, and ironically damian is also very condescending depending on who he’s talking to, but again he has a high opinion of himself and how he should be treated by others. the biggest change is that he learns that others are also owed respect, regardless of their birthright or status.

a lot of this ties into bad faith interpretations of him as a literal feral baby, when that just isn’t reflected in canon at all. he’s talia’s kid, he was raised as literal royalty, and he does not need etiquette lessons from alfred pennyworth. he doesn’t bite people at galas, he doesn’t need help to do his math homework, and he respects u when u prove urself to him. he starts out with a very distinct black and white idea of the world, and slowly learns otherwise.

im a big fan of steph and damian’s friendship in particular, because like dick she exists in opposition to his worldview. she isn’t a wayne or an al ghul, she’s just a person who independently decided to do good. she was also mistrusted to the point where it led to her death, but she is still kind, still loving, and still motivated by empathy. the same as dick being batman, that’s confronting. she looks past what everyone else sees (the al ghul heir, a murderer, etc) and acknowledges that he’s a little kid who’s never learnt to play.

because he’s prickly, it’s easy to misinterpret his intentions. the same as bruce, even when he’s being respectful, people can assume the worst out of him. and that’s hard! he genuinely wants to do good. he has to unpack so much in his head about how to act, and what the idea of respect means in this new context. him being robin is a crucial part of that — it isn’t an insulting mantle as a placeholder for his eventual ascension into the bat, it’s simply something more.

#i hope that makes sense idk me brain no work good #damian wayne #stephanie brown #robin #batfam #dc comics #the ask and the answer #ty for the q!

210 notes · View notes

magical-girl-trucy · 6 months

Text

SO who's ready for my completely out there "okay but hear me out—" AU I've been brainstorming and have already written over 1000 words for?

Franziska von Karma adopts Athena after Metis' death.

(ID under read more)

HEAR ME OUT I PROMISE THERE'S A REASON.

Basically this world's version of events has Franziska on behalf of Interpol looking into the HAT-1 Miracle due to suspicious of international sabotage. Because Franziska von Karma is thorough and does not leave any stone unturned, she looks a little into UR-1, as it had happened a mere few days before and there may be a connection. What she finds from the actual case files is frustrating from how little care went into the trial...So screw it, she'll go directly to the source the trial had ignored: the little girl who had witnessed the crime.

While trying to glean any information that she can out of her, Franziska is reminded of how DL-6 similarly had effected her family and how her little brother was still struggling with it. And Athena's current legal guardian (Aura) in this mess is pissing her off so much in the amount of sheer hatred Aura exhibits and Franziska is definitely not projecting how dare you accuse her of that she has exactly 0 problems.

So one thing leads to another and now this child is now under Franziska's care.

Athena likes Franziska because Franziska doesn't talk down to her and while Fran isn't nice she is genuine and listens to her

[Image ID: A bunch of miscellaneous digital doodles. The top shows messy bust shots of child Athena and Franziska von Karma, followed by Athena sitting with her knees up against her chest. She's saying "You…believe me?" Next is two small doodles of Athena, one of her holding up a drawing of Franziska, the other her mumbling "Sorry, I have a hard time talking sometimes."

The next doodle, which takes up most of the page, is two drawings of Franziska and Aura Blackquill. Blackquill is saying "The fuck are you, a social worker?" before she turns around saying "Whatever, I don't care. I already have the paperwork ready. Do whatever you want with the princess." Franziska gets an angry expression and thinks to herself "The next time I see you, I'm going to whip you senseless."

The next doodle is of Franziska clenching her fist and saying to herself, "That foolish Phoenix Wright thinks he can make a fool out of me? How dare he! I shall prove my superiority by being the perfect guardian to this child."

The bottom of the page has two more doodles. The left one is Franziska guiding Athena while they walk somewhere. The right, and final, doodle is Edgeworth with a hand in his hand with a baffled and confused expression. Kay is next to him, completely shocked. Edgeworth says, "First Wright, then Franziska?!" Kay says, "SHE GOT A KID?! Damn, who's next on the adoption list?!" Underneath them is additional text in parenthesis that says "Kay is next." End ID]

#aj rambles #art by me #ace attorney #dual destinies #ace attorney au #franziska adopts athena #franziska von karma #athena cykes #aura blackquill #miles edgeworth #kay faraday

214 notes · View notes

impishjesters · 6 months

Text

Jax x Female Reader adopting a cat

warning(s): nothing just some good ol' wholesome chaotic cat dad Jax A/N: I feel like Jax would have a lot in common with a cat, moody and mischievous to name a few... request: id like to request a jax x female reader where the reader like, adopts an npc cat for company, with jax’s reactions to the cat. maybe jax begrudgingly helps the reader care for the cat? :3

When you approached Caine with the question of if he would make you a cat to have as a pet he was only slightly confused. Like did you want a pet cat or like, a large person-like cat.

When questioned you simply stated you wanted a cat for company, you had one before and it just didn’t feel the same without your little feline baby.

Caine whipped you up a cat easily and suddenly you now had a next to no-maintenance feline friend that you quickly named Evie, a name you found quite hilarious given the situation that only confused Caine further.

Not that the name got used much, you called her everything but the name. Typical random cat nicknames, scoots, loudmouth, etc.

Jax had taken to calling her Bastard despite your complaints, not to mention it took several minutes to piece together what word he said through the censorship.

“We’re not naming her Bastard.”

“What about little shit?”

“The only little shit around here is you, my love.”

“Fine, smaller shit.”

Jax isn’t a huge fan of cats, he doesn’t hate them, but if he had to choose between a cat and a dog he’d pick the cat. At least it could take care of itself.

He helps you take care of the cat but he’s not putting much effort into it until one day Evie starts knocking stuff over. Jax learns that cats are also mischievous little shits.

So maybe he doesn’t dislike cats as much as he did before, maybe it’s just because she’s a digital cat that she’s got more self-aware than real cats. But he definitely feels a connection after that, little miss Evie is always his second in command when fucking with the others now.

It would be precious and wholesome if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s now using your feline daughter to start shit and freak the others out. (It’s easy to forget there’s a cat, usually, she’s with you and not so…tricksy)

Zooble likes to joke that Evie needs a better baby daddy. Jax gets dramatic and holds Evie close and protectively saying he’d die for Evie, and by he, he means he’d sacrifice someone else for her.

“You can pry my little girl from my cold dead digital fingers.”

It’s hard to tell if it’s a joke or not with how seriously he takes his role as cat dad, he does, however, like to fuck with you in saying that you’d make a great mom if you’re able to take care of Evie and him.

Food for thought.

“Where’s ya momma at Evie?”

“Where’s daddy hiding now?”

“Shit, I won’t tell your mom if you don’t.”

“You can’t just keep helping your dad scare the others, Kinger’s gonna have a heart attack one of these days…”

The whole family thing was a joke at first but now it sticks, both of you cracking jokes about how you have to save up for her college fund and all that good stuff.

“I work hard to make this house a home.” - Jax at some point in time despite the fact he doesn't work and this isn't a home... necessarily.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader #jax #jax x reader #tadc jax

253 notes · View notes

looseduke · 1 year

Text

okay insane thought about names and the feelings i have about them as a transgender blended family kid. it requires a leap of logic where the fantasy high parent couples remain dating and get married or otherwise legally bind themselves together but follow me on this for a moment. also i don’t know or care if this follows canon im just deciding it does

gilear took sandra lynn’s last name

could not afford to change it after the divorce

gilear is just one of those ppl who really likes having the same last name as his life partners, doesn’t have to be his name, he just thinks it’s nice

(sandra lynn liked her name and though she has Many Issues and might have changed her name in an attempt at normalcy gilear’s name was definitely something outlandishly stupid and he suggested it first anyway so it worked out)

do u see where im going with this

gilear seacaster.

fabian is furious but this ain’t about him

something so funny about taking your (way funnier if they don’t even get married) girlfriend’s dead husband’s last name

he keeps faeth as a middle name bc it’s still a connection to fig that he values and wants to keep

anyway. jawbone hears about all of this. absolutely loves it. thinks it’s awesome

jawbone o’shaughnessy-faeth!

yes with the apostrophe and the hyphen. yes every time.

he likes the connection to gilear and fig as much as he does the one to sandra lynn <3

when consulted fig was SUPER enthusiastic about another dad. gilear was like sigh. that might as well happen. im already being dunked upon by my mean stepson. go ahead.

okay the grand finale. the reason i even made this fucking post

adaine kills her dad, gets adopted, and starts to wonder if she should change her name

adaine makes amends with her sister, and starts to wonder if she should keep it

jawbone lets her know right away that he’ll support her decision no matter what, but it takes a long time for her to decide

it takes watching gilear and fabian bicker over their shared last name, watching fig get sappy over gilear holding onto the name faeth, watching fig and jawbone get sappy over THEIR shared last name, watching sandra lynn hide a smile whenever it comes up, watching, watching, watching

watching her sister learn and grow and love her unconditionally

she makes her decision, and when her dad brings her home from the fantasy dmv, there’s a new name on her ID

adaine abernant-o’shaughnessy-faeth. yes all three names. yes with the apostrophe. yes with the hyphens. every time

it’s for her dad, yes, for the man who gave her a home, who helped her find her strength, who is always her safe space, but it’s for more then that too

it’s for her sister, who for better or worse is in all of her earliest memories. who never underestimated her. who’s trying, every day

it’s for her sister, who called her awesome on the first day of school. who’s always there for her. who wears her heart on her sleeve and teaches adaine it’s okay to be emotional. who’s her best friend

it’s for the man who took her in when he had next to nothing to offer, who shared his extra garlic knots and vending machine snacks, who hosted his daughters strange friends night after night without question or complaint

and it’s for the elven woman sitting across from her at the dinner table, who understands her greatest fear better then anyone else and has built a life for herself despite her mistakes. who protected her on their quest. who opened her house for about 6 teenagers to live there permanently and anywhere between 3 and 10 more to hang out as much as they want

adaine abernant-o’shaughnessy-faeth, the people’s oracle <3

#there is absolutely nothing wrong with being family and having different last names. or having the same last name and not being family #but personally #choosing my name and who got to be included was one of the most powerful things in the world and i want that for her <3 #dimension 20 #fantasy high #adaine abernant #also i personally am an o’[name]-[name]#and let me tell u. every computer hates you so much forever. but it’s okay

1K notes · View notes

ultra-raging-ghost · 2 months

Text

time for bad's cucurucho interview!!!!

Bad asked if this was cucurucho, cucurucho responded with "yes" onto the questions

what is your biggest accomplishment on the island?

"I am an inventor" (pomme told him to answer this)

2. what is your favorite memory in the island?

"When i adopted my eggs!" (pomme told him to say this)(he didnt understand this)

3. Have you ever felt like the protagonist of the story? If yes, when? if no, why?

"Maybe!!!! yes? maybe no? yes? yes maybe? whos asking???" "hahaha!"

"Can i get a ticket out of here?" "no"

4. if you were to be recognized for something you did, what would it be? would it be something good or bad?

"Ive done so much of both of those things, but apparently something definitely good!" (pomme told him to answer that)

5. would you be more motivated into completing something with a premium recieved at the end?

"Yes! probably!" (pomme told him to answer this)

6. if there was a future out of the island, who would you take with you to continue your journey?

"umm.. is skeppy an option?" "maybe. No." "I mean i guess id take pomme and dapper! And richas, doesnt richas live with us? Id take him too"

7. you win a huge nomination, what message would you give your supporters?

"Well, hi! nice to meet you, and thank you!"

8. what advice would you give others into continuing and pursuing goals, what is the first and most important step?

"The first step.. is to think about the best way to pursue it. i have a goal i want to pursue, how do i pursue it? and uhhh follow your dreams. Do what makes you happy."

9. how are you feeling in general?

"Good i guess! A little confused but other than that im doing great"

10. are you okay?

"Im feeling pretty good! Are you okay?" "Yes." "Thats good. I had a traumatic experience not too long ago but im doing good, i like your office its very cozy. its one of those things, its just a day"

[towards pomme] "What are you doing?" [pomme] "your bunny over there is trying to buy me"

[long silence]

"Pomme is this the scary guy you were talking about? he seems kinda beaurocratic?"

[cucurucho] "cough cough" [passes bad a candy and then leaves]

"oh thank you!"

[cucurucho] "I have no further business with you at this time. Please enjoy the island"

"bye bye!"

#qsmp #liveblogging

95 notes · View notes

chippedtoons · 3 months

Text

reasons why MK is The Protagonist Of All Time™️

- MK's two best friends are fucking millionaires. one of them is literally royalty. Wukong, his mentor, is basically a known celebrity and has comic books, two known tv shows, two known cardboard cutouts, cereal, candy bars, action figures, plushies, a fucking video game, and more [keep in mind this id just in-universe], so hes definitely loaded in cash. MK not only works at a 9-5 job for a business his dad owns and is also the only one of these four characters with a job.

- he once ate cursed meatballs which resulted in him getting hiccups so bad they caused fucking earthquakes. after having said hiccups cured he openly admitted to wanting more cursed meatballs.

- there's an entire episode dedicated to showcasing how this guy cannot pay attention. at all.

- the dude has ZERO fucking impulse control and does NOT intend on gaining any. he climbed up an entire building, fell off, and climbed it from a different side in a matter of seconds. because he thought he saw his childhood hero.

- he can summon a giant robot at will???? and no one questions it???????

- he accidentally shrunk his uncle once.

- hes guilty of murdering four people and two of them were on accident.

- he didnt know he wasnt a human being until like. a week ago. he just had the ability to kill god one day and never questioned it. he was literally told of his entire origin and went "no, im NormalMan 9000. trust me."

- his dad quite literally saw him standing outside his shop one day and went "oh, fuck. no one ELSE is gonna adopt this random child!" and took him in without hesitation.

- accidentally turned his hands into dogs once.

- he killed the second jade emperor.

- he's scared of spiders.

feel free to add more because this is just the stuff i remember

#nova's posts #mk's posts #chiptoons #lego monkie kid #lmk mk #lego monkie kid mk

117 notes · View notes

elizabethemerald · 1 year

Text

Protective Instincts: Part 1

Based off my “Mistaken Identity AU” wherein Danny momentarily mistakes Bruce as his father and is eventually adopted into the family. Full serious of Protective instincts stories will be up on AO3 when they are all written.

“Alright Danny! Courtesy of our new best friend Oracle, I have your brand new ID hot off the press.” Tucker called into the room as he entered.

Danny and Sam were in their shared bedroom in Wayne Manor. Danny was finishing painting Sam’s nails with her customary black. His own were painted a dark purple. Now that they were all finally safe and reconnected it was time to get back to feeling like themselves again. It was well past time they had fun and colorful (or black in Sam’s case) nails. Tucker would get his turn as soon as Sam’s were dry.

Of course there were more than enough rooms in Wayne Manor for them all to have separate rooms, but after a chaotic first night wherein every member of the trio had their own nightmares then panicked when they couldn’t find each other. Even Jazz, usually the most emotionally steady and mentally healthy member of their group didn’t sleep at all that first night as she kept checking on Danny, Sam and Tucker.

So it was decided that the trio would share a bedroom. The bedrooms were definitely large enough for the three of them to sleep side by side by side, and considering they had all crammed themselves into Danny’s tiny twin at the Fenton’s household, they slept comfortably. Plus it made it easier for Jazz to anxiously check on them if they were all in the same bed. Alfred and the Waynes didn’t say anything about them rooming together, though the trio did get a few raised eyebrows when they left their room together.

“Daniel Edward Nightingale.” Tucker said as he handed over the ID with a flourish.

“I can’t believe you picked Edward as your middle name.” Sam said with a sigh as she started to blow on her nails to get them to dry.

“Well Jazz wanted her last name to be Nightingale, you two wanted to share a last name.” Tucker said as he sat down and started looking through the nail polishes that Cassandra and Stephanie had loaned them. Sam’s collection was still in Amity Park. “There are so many puns I can come up with, with those letters.”

Left unsaid was that any middle name that started with an A was completely off the table. Danny didn’t need anymore reminders of Dan. Danny looked over his new paperwork as he spoke.

“Yeah and we’ve already established I’m terrible at naming things. That’s apparently something I inherited from Jazz.”

None of them mentioned Jack and Maddie’s terrible names they gave things. There were a lot of things that were being left unsaid between the three of them.

“Actually, speaking of my sister, have either of you seen her?” Danny asked, standing and stretching.

“Yeah, I handed her ID to her first. She immediately grabbed her purse and left the Manor. Apparently she’s desperate to start the job search so she’s not indebted to Bruce.”

“Did she leave alone?” Danny asked, his voice rising and he knew his eyes were flashing green.

“No, don’t worry. Jason was standing around in the kitchen and he got voluntold to be her escort. He’s got his guns, and Jazz has her creep stick. They’ll be safe.”

“Oh well, that’s good.”

“You don’t sound thrilled. I know you’re worried about her, but she’ll be ok.” Sam said as she started layering a neon blue polish onto Tucker’s nails.

“Yeah, I trust her.” Even if his voice was a little hesitant. “It’s just now that we have real IDs and everything, I was hoping she would help me get my prescription set up, it’s been like a month since I had my last T shot.”

Tucker whipped out his PDA and started typing one handed while Sam glared at him to stop moving so much lest she mess up his nails.

“I’ve got the closest respectable pharmacy, and I’ve already sent in your prescription. I’ve even rearranged their queue and marked your order as a priority fill. It should be ready to pick up in a few minutes.”

Danny gave him a wide smile, then looked nervous again.

“Uh, I was also hoping Jazz could help me administer the shot. Maybe one of you could…?”

He trailed off as both of them looked uncomfortable. Sam capped the polish she was working with and put her hand on Danny’s arm.

“Danny, we love you. But I don’t think either of us are going to be able to stick you with a needle any time soon.” She said. Tucker gave him an anxious smile and a small nod.

“Oh. Well I guess I could do it myself. No problem right!” Even in his own ears the words sounded like false bravado.

“Hey, maybe one of the Waynes would be able to help you out?”

“What can the Waynes help you with?

Before Danny could reply a voice from the hallway made him whip around. Tucker had left the door open in his excitement and standing there, not entering their space but still leaning casually on the doorframe was Dick Grayson.

“Sorry to butt in. And for eavesdropping but I couldn’t help but overhear.” Dick said with a small smile, trying to put them at ease.

Danny consciously forced himself to relax. When he had been startled he had whirled so he was in front of Sam and Tucker his fists raised and his gleaming with a green light. He let out a slow breath and relaxed his clenched and ready muscles. Dick wasn’t a threat. Sam and Tucker were safe. He was safe. He breathed slowly in then out again before he shot a smile back at Dick. He already told the Waynes his biggest secret, what was one more secret? Better to know now if there was going to be a problem before they all got comfortable.

“I was hoping for some help administering my T shot.” He was still tense, but when Dick’s face only changed to a wider smile he relaxed more.

“Oh, I can help you. I’ve helped Wally with his plenty of times. There’s just something about having to stick yourself with a needle that is so much worse. May I come in? Or would you prefer to do it in one of the restrooms?”

Danny relaxed further, almost back to how he was when it was just him, Sam and Tucker in the room. He glanced at them and they both gave him a nod so he nodded ot Dick.

“I don’t have the prescription yet. I was just going to go pick it up.”

Dick entered and glanced curiously around, but quickly refocused. Danny was sure the room was a little messy, with two teenaged boys living there, and all three of them still living out of their suitcases in case they had to leave quickly. However Danny didn’t feel like Dick was judging them at all.

“If you’d like I can swipe the keys to one of Bruce’s cars and drive you to the pharmacy. There’s no worries there.”

Danny hesitated again for just a moment before he nodded. He had been planning on going ghost and flying to the pharmacy then just taking the package with his name on it and disappearing, but maybe it would be better to do this as a human.

“Bye, Danny. Love you!”

“We’ll be here when you get back. Be safe out there. Love you!”

“I love you both too.”

Dick gave him another small smile at their farewells but didn’t say anything. Tucker and Sam had been doing that a lot more recently. He didn’t mind, his core always purred and hummed when they did and he certainly loved them, but he wasn’t sure why or where that had come from.

While he was caught up in his thoughts on his friends Dick had grabbed a set of keys and escorted him into the very full garage. Despite the number of luxury and sports cars that filled the space, Dick led him to one of the more normal looking cars. Still fancy, and still nice, but common enough that it wouldn’t be obvious that a Wayne was on the roads. Dick waited until they had pulled out the front gate and were on the road before he spoke again.

“You don’t have to worry about anyone in the family giving you a hard time.” He said, with his voice soft, comforting. “Half the family is queer and we all have friends or associates who are part of the community.”

“Thanks. That’s good to know.” Danny said. His parents… no. Jack and Maddie had been accepting of his gender identity, but had hated his ghost half. He had been afraid that the Waynes might have been the opposite, ok with his ghost half and bigoted against his gender identity. Though maybe he needn’t have worried, Dick after all, had the most Bisexual energy Danny had ever seen outside of a mirror.

The trip to the pharmacy was quick and efficient. With Dick standing guard and fully willing to stare down or call out anyone who even looked at him funny when he asked the pharmacist for his prescription, Danny was able to get in and out without a problem. Honestly with Dick towering over him at 6 foot, Danny felt as safe as he did when his sister was with him. Though she was even taller at 6’3”. They were pretty sure she was going to end up even taller with the ectoplasm running through her veins.

Once they were back in the Mansion and Danny could relax a little more (he still didn’t relax fully in the mansion, unless he had Tucker, Sam and Jazz around him. That was the only time he felt fully safe) Dick escorted Danny to one of the restrooms on the ground floor.

“You needed help with the injection, is that correct?” Dick asked.

“Yeah, usually Jazz helps me out.” Danny gave a half laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s weird I’m totally fine with stitching myself up, and giving myself injections of Ecto-dejecto, but I can’t handle the much smaller needle of a T shot.”

For a moment Danny could feel rage radiating off of Dick even though the older man kept his face mostly calm. Though that should have been its own hint at Dick’s emotions. He was almost never serious, always ready with a joke or a pun.

“It’s ok, Danny. We’re here to help. You don’t have to do everything yourself anymore.”

Danny wasn’t 100% certain that Dick was talking about the testosterone injection at all anymore, but he just nodded and let Dick help him with the injection. He had to look away from the needle and couldn’t help a small flinch as the needle reminded him of all the needles his parents had stuck him with while he was in their care. They wanted to test how ghosts reacted to different chemicals. He had experienced everything from human blood (Jack’s donation) to bleach flowing through his veins.

He didn’t realize he had tensed until he felt strong arms wrap gently around his body. Danny untensed his muscles with difficulty and took a breath, the silent reminder that at least part of him was still alive, even if he didn’t need to breathe anymore. As he repeated the breathing exercises Jazz had taught him, he slowly became aware that Dick was slowly and softly repeating calming phrases to him as he hugged him.

“It’s ok, little ghost. It’s Danny. You’re not alone anymore. You’re safe. Your family is safe. You’re part of our family now. We’re going to keep you safe. You’re ok, Danny.”

More tension bled from his shoulders as he sighed into Dick’s arms. Maybe this is what a family was supposed to feel like.

Final Author Note: I have a couple of these planned, I’ll post them all on tumblr seperately, then on AO3 all together once they are all finished. My Momma Selina story will be updated next. Then I have an idea for Papa Red Hood story that I’ll do next. Also! I have a zine coming out at the end of the week, keep an eye out for it!

#Danny Phantom #dp x dc #dick grayson #trans danny fenton #Tucker Foley #sam manson #the trio is a couple #they just haven't realised it yet #danny fenton #Writing Emerald #mistaken identity #Please reblog!

488 notes · View notes