#man though now that i know what they're like
Note
ok ok ok i see this lingerie set all the time on instagram and ive always wondered how spencer would react you buying/wearing it if you are doing fic requests 👀
https://www.adoreme.com/gynger-white-1
ANGEL • S. REID X READER
fem reader; fingering; kissing; praise and compliments; description of the linked lingerie above; mentions of alcohol consumption; spencer loves you; ~1.5k words
“You look pretty today,” Spencer tells you, breaking the lull in conversation. You’re watching a movie — though neither of you are really paying attention by now, wrapped up in soft whispers and gentle loving caresses.
You shy from the attention, burying your face in his shoulder.
“Really!” His voice pitches up a little. “You’re beautiful,”
You smile into his skin, curling into his chest fully. “Thank you, Spence,”
He hums when you press a kiss to the column of his throat, relaxing as you place more and more on him. “Do you always get so affectionate when complimented?”
You shake your head and meet his eyes, head a mess of affection and want for the man in front of you. “Just when I really like the person they're from…” you mumble, toying with the bottom of your shirt as you look down. “‘nd when I’m a little wine drunk.”
Spencer laughs softly, fondly, sits up enough to press his lips to yours. He’s been drinking some, too, but he always cuts himself off early and has a higher tolerance. You sigh, curl your fingers into his shoulders and move forward without breaking contact. You slide into his lap, head tilting as he deepens the kiss easily, fingers kneading and rolling the soft flesh of your thighs as he guides your rhythm.
Each time you push for it to move, he pulls back slightly with a smile, looks at you so sweet, and then he kisses you slowly. So slowly. You want nothing more than for him to speed up, but the syrupy and molasses-like slowness and sweetness has heat bubbling up in your core. Without even realizing it, you’re sighing into his kiss, letting out soft gasping sounds of need as you seek friction — hips grinding small circles against him, pressure increasing as you find just the right angle.
He makes no moves to stop you, but he doesn’t help you either. Eventually, he can’t stop smiling against you and pulls back just enough to look down at the needy circles you’re making against him. Spencer swallows, words dying on his tongue when you shudder, a bolt of pleasure making you dig your nails into his shoulders more harshly. He winces but allows it, pressing forward with more urgency and a deeper kiss. He groans against you when your movements brush against his arousal and you quiver in his grip, muscles tense and skin hot like a live wire.
“Spencer,” you whisper, unable to stop your rocking even then.
“Honey,” his voice is gravely and low, eyes darker as he studies you. He’s watching every small change to your expression as you grind against him, and you whine when he restrains himself from guiding you — he clearly wants to, hands tightening on your hips to the point you know you’ll have bruises.
“More,” you rush out the plea in a sigh, pulling at his shirt. “Anything, just want you.”
“You have me.” Spencer reassures, voice thick. He clears his throat. “I’m all yours, angel girl.”
The pet name spurs you, lips quirking up in a smile. He catches it, brows raising as he licks his own lips.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you’re a terrible liar, even more so when you’re lying to a behavior analyst (you prefer to call him a mind reader), and your long-term boyfriend.
“Really?” He humors you, tempering his smile to look more neutral. “Nothing you want to tell me?”
“Nope!” You chirp, too eager. You guide his hands from your stilled hips to the zipper of hoodie. “Something to show you.”
“I thought there was nothing,” Spencer hums teasingly, slowly tugging the cool metal down your body. His remarks die on his tongue as you shrug the fabric back off your shoulders and down, revealing the lingerie you’d bought.
There’s a ribbon over your breasts, presenting a perfect present to him, a mesh window below it to peer into your cleavage. The ribbon guides his eyes down your waist, and he wonders what the panties look like beneath your shorts.
Spencer searches your face briefly, catching your smile as his eyes fall helplessly back to your chest. “So…– so pretty,” he manages, stumbling over the words. He raises his hands to trail the ribbon and press against the thin mesh window, feeling the weight and heat of your skin through the sheer fabric.
“You like it?” You ask, more so to force words out of him than for reassurance.
He snaps his gaze to your face and nods, kissing you quickly. “You’re perfect, angel. All dolled up like a present,” he slides one bra strap off your shoulder and kisses the skin as he lets it fall. “My perfect gift,”
He tells you often you’re all he ever wants, and as much as that frustrates you when you’re trying to buy him a birthday present, it serves now as a stoke to the flames of your desire. All he wants is you and your beauty, all he can think of is your body.
He unclasps the back of the bra, tugging the ribbon playfully in a pretend untying before tugging it from you. His head dips, pressing kisses and sucking on the sensitive skin. Not enough to leave marks, you always complained about the tenderness, but enough that you arch up into the heat of his mouth and tug him closer by his hair.
“Spencer,” you whisper. “Wanna see my panties?”
He exhales softly, like the amused snort he does through his nose. “Would I ever say no?”
You tilt your head at him. “Well, sorry I wanted explicit consent,”
Spencer shakes his head fondly, kissing your cheek. “Thank you, honey. But yes, I want to see. I want to see all of you,”
You stand and turn so he gets the best sight of your panties as you slide the shorts down — the ribbon over your butt, the smaller strip of fabric that cups the flesh in a way that accentuates every piece of you. You twirl and he presses a kiss to your stomach. It’s ticklish, makes you giggle, and his chin digs into your skin a little as he looks up at you, tracing shapes on your inner thighs so lightly it almost stings from the sensitivity.
You blink at him and he only huffs a laugh, trailing up to the wet patch on your panties. Your knees buckle a little, but he catches you like he always does, guides you back down to him and his mouth. You kiss him like he’s the air you need, whining softly in the back of your throat as he snaps the waistband of the white fabric against you before tugging them to the side. The simultaneous friction of the fabric and his fingers, finding purchase and a rhythm in your slickness, has you shuddering.
His fingers are always calloused perfectly for this, giving a roughness that contrasts the gentle crook of his fingers and the methodical pace, a perfect mind-numbing mix of everything him. His gentleness betrays him even when you ask him to be rougher; in stolen and short kisses; the affectionate brush of his hand over your insecurities and most sensitive skin; in the way he adjusts perfectly to your non-verbal tells before you even know to voice something.
He’s perfectly attuned to you and your body.
“You’re dripping,” Spencer whispers, awed, and you realize then the sloppy sounds your cunt makes on his hand. You squirm but he shushes you, clicking his tongue. “Such a good girl. Always so ready and willing,”
You whine, grinding down into the palm of his hand as he crooks his fingers just right and eases just that bit further into you. You clench at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut when you can’t handle the sight of his pretty face and intentness on your pleasure in tandem with the feeling anymore.
“Come on,” he urges. “Let go for me,”
He keeps working you, thumb rolling your clit in a mind-numbing tempo that perfectly offsets and melds with his fingers.
“There you go,” he whispers, awed, as your body arches and tenses as the pleasure crescendos and crashes into you in waves, leaving you whimpering and chest heaving as you try to come back from the sea. Spencer’s got you, as he always does, kissing your sweat-slicked skin and whispering praises, a soothing thumb (the clean one) running over your cheek into your nuzzle into his hand. “You did so well, angel,”
You reach for his sweatpants, but he presses back just out of reach. “Give yourself a second.”
“But I want you,” you urge, and Spencer only smiles, unabashed and unreserved fondness.
“And you’ll have it. I’m not going anywhere.”
trying something new both in writing style and characterization bc i am frustrated with how i do both 🫡
#my works#mdni#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#requested
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very mild 18+ simon riley x reader
lmaoo i can't breathe Simon Riley is just a man.
atleast to you.
when he's home, all he is to you is dry humor, a couple beers every night, sat in front of the tv on his spot on the couch, the game is playing - some soccor or rugby match. he doesn't wear his mask, his clothes are a simple t-shirt and some pair of shorts he just threw on.
he uses your shampoo and conditioner, as much as it pisses you off because it's expensive and for some reason he uses half the fucking bottle everytime he's home, but when he does the groceries he still comes home with '2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner' he would’ve got the '3 in 1' but the last time he did that he got no head for 3 weeks.
he'll go to the pub, take you out, pushes the trolley, holds your bag, let's you dress how you want it, belly gets a little soft because he eats food like he's never ate before, buy you anything you want even after the 'do you really need it though?' talk.
he's bit lazy on workouts only goes on the occasional run, but will fuck you whenever you want; always vanilla and only gets rough when you ask.
he will say he'll fix whatever appliance needs tending too but won't do it right away, starts the occasional handyman job at odd times.
it's just - he's so mundane and normal that you'd never know just how dangerous he is ???? like he so carefully hides that side from you. seriously. when he's home, he throws his gear in the bottom of his closet in a box, locking Ghost away and just existing as Simon.
even when the rest of the task force come around on the occasion. they're so normal and are just... men. yelling at the tv during a sport match. teasing each other. stealing snacks and helping with cleaning. they never speak about work and when you ask them, it's always a smile and shrug, "just another day really." "little boring and slow." "oh not too bad." their answers are so half-assed, that you don't even ask anymore; which is what they want.
but you really aren't missing anything. not when you don't even know what you're missing out on.
it's crazy, because he even keeps Ghost hidden when you're being harassed by men. whether that be when you're shopping or just going for a walk.
he'll loop an arm around your waist or over your shoulder, look at the guy with a grin - that's more of a sneer, "can i help you, mate?" he'll drawl. his stature and stare is enough to make the man who had been harassing you back off.
"what a freak..." you mutter with a roll of your eyes, letting Simon guide you away as he presses a kiss to your temple, a deep chuckle leaving him.
around midnight you wake up to Simon in the laundry room washing his hands. he doesn't blink or hesitate when you wonder in and wrap your arms around his waist. "what're you doing?" you mumble, sleepy eyss dropping to the sink.
Simon's hands are red, and you would be alarmed, should be alarmed. but how could you when Simon hums softly, a sound that rumbles deep from his throat, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. he's so warm and casual that you don't even do a touble take seeing the blood.
"caught a rat. right pest they are. the trap i set snapped it clean in half." Simon's mutters, he raises a bloodied hand to you, sniggering when you crinkle your nose up in disgust and step away from him.
"ew, i'm going back to bed." you huff, yawning and leaving him to what he was doing.
Simon laughs softly as you head off. "just be a sec, love." he says as you go. all he receives is a yawn and a tired 'mhm'.
he cleans his hands and then his phone chimes. he pulls it out and it's a private message.
'getting rid of your pest now, LT.'
image attached
Simon opens the picture and sure enough there's the man from earlier in the boot of a car. all bloodied like Ghost left him.
Simon heads back upstairs to your shared room, you quietly snoozing away. you don't steer or wake as the closet door opens and Simon's putting his mask back in with his gear. No. Ghost is too quiet to let you wake from such a warm and sweet sleep.
he turns from the closet after putting everything away and changing clothes. he crawls into his side of the bed and wraps his arms around you. letting your body nestle back into his side. limbs tangling together.
just you and your simon.
a/n: inspired by a tik tok video on how he is just a man lmaooo
#my post#x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon x reader#ghost cod#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#cod mwii
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not easy to please ⋆⭒˚｡⋆
alternatives to popular tropes
⇴ siblings's worst enemy
they're your sibling's enemy, so of course they're yours too. they're despicable and you seriously want them dead. luckily for you, the feeling's mutual.
⇴ struggling ceo and their know-it-all office worker
how did this mf become the ceo of one of the most progressive countries in the world?? they're clueless and you're the one that has to fix all their mistakes. you seriously don't get paid enough for this (unless they can come up with another way to pay you).
⇴ marriage of inconvenience
what happens in vegas stays in vegas. except when you've signed an official marriage contract, and everything is so much more complicated before. now this person is stuck with you until you can divorce! (or will you?)
⇴ forbidden hate
your parents absolutely adore the idea of the two of you together. they have wedding pinterest boards, future plans, and baby names for the two of you. only one thing: you two kinda hate each other, and hell would have to freeze over before you'd ever get with them.
⇴ no more second chances
sorry dude! f'ed up really bad the first time, and now you're not giving anymore chances, and your ex has to deal with the consequences. one problem: they can't deal with the consequences bc they're literally in love with you. hm. just what will this person do to get you back?
⇴ not so secret identity
everyone knows who they are. not even the old mask and hat trick could prevent people from identifying them. and it's fine–they absolutely bask in the fame. one problem though: they're a constant target to the entire world. perfect!
⇴ separated from each other
they never get any alone time. alone together in an elevator? too bad, a party of ten just showed up, pushing the two of you on the opposite side of the elevator. finally alone at home? nope! unfortunately, your friends make a surprise visit! oh how will you two ever get past this?
⇴ "you deserved it."
a normal person would've asked "who did this to you?" except your bond is not normal. not in the slightest. i mean seriously, what does this person want from you?
⇴ "i can't have you, so i'll let someone else take my place."
they know that they're not good enough for you, and that you deserve someone better than them. so, they choose to let you go, and hope that someone else can make your world light up like they used to
⇴ the one that is still here
everywhere you go, this person is there. whether it's physically, mentally, or spiritually, everything ties back to them. everything reminds you of them. you couldn't even escape if you tried.
⇴ playboy but he's actually a nerd that cannot get play
he's gorgeous–he's the most attractive man you think you've ever seen in your life. you think he's probably got it all–girls or boys coming up to him nonstop. only, that's not true in the slightest. somehow, he's managed to fumble every single time.
⇴ nobody wants the bad boy
he's troubled. there are rumors of him starting fights 24/7, and he lives in a bad area. he could really fuck someone up. nobody wants him.
⇴ "you must be delusional"
lovers that know that they're in love with each other, but when admitting it to their friends, they shut down their feelings.
⇴ loving someone to save them
none of that breaking up nonsense. love is power. their love and support causes you to be stronger than ever. knowing that there's love out there gives you a reason to keep on going. love saves you.
⇴ too smart to live
you've outdone yourself this time. bypassed every guard, rule, and law without anyone catching you. so, of course, there's only one solution here: to eliminate you.
⇴ different worlds (revised)
you grew up poor while they grew up rich. now, in the present, you are the more successful one, while they are struggling to get their life together. now, you must help the one who used to be in your current position, and fix things together.
⇴ one-sided blind date
rule one of having a blind date: you should not know who you're meeting. well, too late! you sneaked a peek at your friend's phone and found out who you'll be seeing soon. now, you're scrambling to get out of this date because you know exactly who it is.
#keyotosprompts#fluff prompts ⋆˚✿˖°#writeblr#writing#writing prompts#otp prompts#otp writing#imagine your otp#creative writing#writing inspiration#writers on tumblr#writing prompt#writerscommunity#creative inspiration#writer stuff#tropes#character dynamics#about writing
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Bridgerton shade of blue
Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Twelve - Beautiful day for a wedding
♡♡♡
The invitation arrived in your mail the very next day. You looked down at the writing of Violet Bridgerton on the letter. Daphne and Simon were to be married the very next day.
Your mother ushered you to the Modiste for a dress. You didn't have time for a new one, so she altered one you owned already. You bought a couple of new accessories and headed home.
You did not get to see the Bridgertons at all.
When you arrived at the church with your mother, you found yourself almost shocked at how few people were present, but you also supposed this was best.
On the duke's side were Lady Danbury and Will and his wife. On Daphne's was her family and you.
Benedict looked up just as you entered and smiled at you. He sat with Colin on a pew behind his mother. You smiled back and found your seat with Hyacinth and Gregory. Hyacinth made Gregory swap seats with her ao she could side beside you.
"Isn't this exciting?" She asks softly.
"Very," you smile.
"Daphne will look so beautiful in her dress," Hyacinth smiles.
"I'm certain of it."
You glance up to see Benedict still looking at you. When your eyes meet his, he turns away to talk to Colin again. You're confused by this strange little exchange, but don't dwell on it.
Violet spots you and waves at you with a smile. You return both gestures, and she turns back to Lady Danbury.
The duke stands quietly at the altar, awaiting his bride. As you look at him, you wonder what he must be thinking. From what you understand, this wasn't exactly ideal, but somehow you know, deep down in his heart, he loves Daphne.
He just needs to admit to himself.
His display to the queen, going by what Violet had said, was the most romantic declaration of love there could have ever been. You knew it had to have been true to some extent.
The sound of the door opening has everyone turning to look. You all rise when you see Anthony and the bride enter. You feel yourself gasp softly as you look at her.
Flawless.
Daphne looked beautiful. She was exactly what a bride should be on her special day. Anthony led her down the aisle. As she passed you, she gave you a small smile. She looked like she was putting on a brave face.
You smiled back and watched her pass.
Simon turns to look at his soon-to-wife. Even he couldn't deny how beautiful she is, surely.
Violet was trying so hard not to cry.
All of Daphne's family looked at her so proudly. This was the bottom she had been waiting for. The moment she would become a wife to the man she loved.
Though she had expected love to be true and pure like her parents had, for she knew the truth behind this wedding.
She practically forced Simon into it.
Anthony smiles at his sister and hands her over to Simon Bassett. The two stand beside each other while Anthony joins his mother at her pew.
You all sit.
The ceremony begins.
Hyacinth holds your hand as you watch the couple. You wonder what both of them are thinking.
They face each other. Simon holds out his hand. Daphne places her in it. He removes her long silk glove with ease. Her hand is now bare to him. He places the ring on her finger. Daphne remembers to breathe.
"I now pronounce you man and wife."
They're married.
♡♡♡
The ball after is full of life and cheer. Upbeat music plays on the violins. Though the wedding was an intimate affair, the ball was for all the ton.
Hyacinth and Gregory chase each other through the party while Daphne speaks to some of the guests.
Penelope tries to help Marina find someone other than Colin Bridgerton to marry. After all, Penelope had been in love with Colin for quite some time, though he was unlikely to view her the same way.
You laugh at something Anthony tells you on the other side of the room. Benedict comes over and looks between the two of you. "Is my brother that funny?"
"Quite, actually." You chuckle.
"At least one of us has charisma," Anthony says sipping his drink.
You laugh in the most unladylike manner and try to cover your mouth. Benedict looks at you in shock and in awe. Anthony smiles and shake his head.
"I never knew you could make such a sound," Benedict teases.
"Neither did I until now." You manage to control your laughter, ignoring anyone looking your way.
"A fascinating woman," he grins.
"I'm full of surprises. Even to myself," you smile.
Benedict looks at you curiously.
"Excuse me," Anthony says, nodding at you both and then taking his leave to catch up with someone.
You turn to Benedict only to catch him staring at someone.
"Benedict?"
"Excuse me..." He walks off but is soon cornered by the man he had seen. You sigh and decide to take a stroll of the room instead.
"A most enjoyable party," Henry Granville says to him.
"Indeed."
"Um, Bridgerton... Um... The other night..."
"What happened the other night?" Benedict asks, pretending he did not know. "I do not believe anything happened at all."
Henry chuckles softly. "Very well." A woman joins them, and Granville smiles. "Ah, dearest... I believe you know Mr. Bridgerton."
Benedict stares at the woman, recognising her from the other night. The pretty woman he enjoyed himself with.
"My wife, Mrs Lucy Granville."
Benedict chokes on his wine.
"It is a pleasure, Mr. Bridgerton." She smiles at him.
He just sips his wine and nods. "Mm."
You catch sight of Daphne staring at her husband, who stands across the room. You find this strange because you were made to believe that newly we'd couples rarely parted from each other on their wedding day. Yet, they were standing so far apart.
You were about to approach Daphne, but Anthony came up beside her. You decide to leave them both alone for now.
The conversation seems short, however, as you catch sight of Daphne fleeing the room moments later.
Violet goes after.
Wedding jitters, perhaps? Not that you would know. Would you ever know?
You find that you have circled the room completely and sigh. Benedict finds his way through the crowd and looks at you. "I apologise for that."
"Something urgent?"
"Well, not exactly. Just saw a face I knew."
"Wonderful. Where you know many faces, I know very few."
Benedict frowns. "Is something the matter?"
"Other than your family and Lady Danbury, I don't really know anyone else. Penelope seems lovely enough, but I do not know her all too well."
Benedict remains confused by you.
"Did something happen?" He asks.
"I have been all but abandoned."
"Nonsense."
You sigh. "Forgive me, I'm just tired. Weddings seem to go on for a while, don't they?"
"Can't say I've been to many."
"Do you think I'll get to experience this one day?" You ask, looking around. "Perhaps not as grand as this, but... you know."
Benedict now looks at you with slight surprise. "Of course, if that is what you want."
"I do want it." You confess quietly. "I'd like to be married one day. Not necessarily to a duke," you chuckle.
Benedict laughs, too.
"But I'd like to be a wife and a mother one day." You watch Hyacinth chase her brother around the guests.
Benedict keeps his gaze on you as he says, "one day it shall be yours."
You smile, keeping your eyes on the youngest two of the Bridgerton family.
Benedict does not drop his gaze from you.
♡♡♡
Violet insists you come them to bid Daphne goodbye as she leaves for her new home. You can only wonder how strange it must be for her to leave a place she calls home.
You stand at the back of the crowd as Daphne says goodbye to her siblings. She even hugs Eloise who looks a little reluctant for her sister to go.
Daphne then turns to you and pulls you into a hug. "Thank you," she whispers.
"What for?"
"Being there." She pulls away to look at you, placing her hands in yours softly.
You smile. "Any time. Write, won't you?"
"Of course. Regularly."
You both smile at each other, and Daphne turns around to climb into the carriage. Simon opens the door for her and climbs in after her. She looks out the window to look at her family and her, now, old home.
You wave along with the others, finding your arm looped with Anthony's as you watch the carriage disappear down the road. When it's gone from sight, Anthony escorts you back inside. Violet gushes about the entire day, and you smile as you go with her to fetch some tea.
With the guests gone, the family can relax. You had been invited to stay behind and keep them company for a while longer, and you agreed.
You sit with Violet and the family as tea is called. Anthony stays a while but then excuses himself. Violet makes a comment about him being unable to leave business even for one day.
A cup of tea is placed on the table beside you. You look up to see Benedict standing beside you with a smile.
You accept the cup and sip it. It's been made the way you like it. Benedict remembered something so mundane about you? Or was it perhaps just chance. You have taken tea with his mother before.
"My daughter, a duchess," Violet sighs happily.
"You must be very proud," you say, smiling.
"Immensly." She sips her tea.
"Daphne looked beautiful," Hyacinth says, smiling at you both from where she sits with Gregory.
"Yes," Violet smiles proudly.
You sip your tea and listen to small babble lf conversation about Daphne and where she will be living now, and what a duchess does. Hyacinth was full of questions.
Eloise slumped down in the seat beside you with a sigh.
"You alright?" You ask. She had a book held tightly to her chest.
"Just glad it's all over." She sighs again.
"Did you not enjoy seeing your sister marry?"
"It's not that. I'm very happy for Daphne and shall miss her tremendously. I'm just tired of all the fuss."
"Will it not be your turn next?" You ask.
"Please don't remind me," she screws her eyes shut and grimaces at the thought.
You chuckle softly and pat her arm gently. "You may change your mind."
"I cannot think of anything worse."
You say no more on the matter. After an hour passes, you take your leave. Your mother would be waiting at home for you. Violet calls for a carriage for you, one of their own. Benedict insists on seeing you out.
You walks down the front steps with him and approaches the carriage. The footman opens the door for you.
"Until next we meet," Benedict smiles at you.
You're about to enter the carriage when you stop and turn to him. "Where do you go at night?" You ask.
Benedict seems to freeze at your question. "Pardon?"
"At night, where do you go?"
His mouth hangs open as he tries to think about how to answer, but you keep talking before he can utter a single word.
"The other night when the duke and Lady Danbury came for dinner, you were not present. I asked Anthony about your whereabouts, but he confessed to not knowing. Not that I expect you all to know each others business all the time, but apparently, you have spent a couple nights away from home now. I am curious. Where do you go?"
Benedict really wasn't sure how to answer. Qould you think poorly of him if he told you the truth.
"Well I--"
"No, never mind. Do not tell me. It was rude of me to ask. I was just curious. Curiosity can be dangerous." You climb up into the carriage.
There's a moment of silence before the footman closes the door. Within seconds the carriage takes off towards your home.
Benedict is left standing there wishing he had said something, anything, to keep you longer.
He watches the carriage leave.
♡♡♡
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@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen - @berrnuu - @luckily123345 - @charmainemaclendon
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KS Fill: Tonya/Vladimir Petrov, Thomas/Anton; castle in the clouds
Another of the Kickstarter fills, for the prompt: always happy for a Vinny/Tony update, especially if Tonya is involved
Even as a child, at her most idealistic, Tonya certainly never expected to live in a mansion like this. A castle, maybe. She liked castles, though she’s not sure where she expected to find one in Brooklyn. Though, it’s not like mansions were any more realistic, growing up in New York City.
And they wouldn’t live in one if they lived in New York, but in Hartford, it was barely even a splurge. And Vladimir had dreamed of castles too as a boy, wanted Antosha to live in one, or the nearest thing they could get for him. It’s massive, and impractical, and Tonya loves it.
They don’t take advantage of the benefits of it very often, however. Once, they let a production crew film the exterior while they were on vacation in Italy anyway — unfortunately, the film was terrible, so Tonya can’t rewatch it for the thrill of seeing it on screen. Or, she could, but she has to get through the melodrama and the bad acting first, and that’s a chore.
It’s the perfect place to host a party, specifically a party with gravitas — a gala, a ball. But with the exception of Vladimir’s induction in the Hall of Fame, they haven’t had any parties worth talking about, because Vladimir is…territorial, Tonya thinks the best word is. His house is his house — she’s still amazed he allowed the film crew, and is sure he wouldn’t have if he hadn’t been out of the country — and he’d prefer they didn’t have guests at all, with the exception of close friends, family. Even then, it’s only Anton who doesn’t get his hackles up after a few hours, and that might just be because he still considers it Antosha’s house too, even after all these years. Which, of course, it is.
But they’ve been married for thirty years now, and Tonya thinks that’s worth celebrating, and Vladimir agrees. He didn’t agree it merited a party on the scale of the one they’re throwing today, but he caved once Tonya assured him all he had to do was show up, and that the only guests staying overnight would be blood-related to them.
Well, and Thomas, but Vladimir’s fine with that. It seems like the exception for Anton applies to him as well. She doesn’t know if that’s because Vladimir considers him an extension of Anton, welcome wherever he is, or if he’s become family in his own right. She likes to think it’s a bit of both.
With an hour to go the place reminds her the castles she dreamt of, lit up and glittering, even if they're nothing alike. The catering staff have assured her they have everything they need, and after two minor wardrobe emergencies she’s finally finished getting ready. Or, she hasn’t, but the final touches must be done right before the guests arrive.
Vladimir’s ready, he’s assured her repeatedly, which she’s sure isn’t true, but he’s his own man. She hasn’t seen Anton since breakfast, which she finds ominous, though she doesn’t think he’d go far without Thomas, and he arrives in front of her almost as soon as she thinks of him. Such a good boy that she merely needs to think of him for him to arrive, offering help.
“Can I help with anything?” he asks, hands twisting fretfully, like it’s hurting him not to assist, and Tonya takes a moment to wonder if she's developed psychic abilities. Perhaps, but it's more likely that Thomas is just unfailingly helpful.
Tonya takes his hands between hers, stills them. They’re cold, and she wants to chafe them, warm him up. What was that saying, cold hands, warm heart? If anyone fits that it’s Thomas. “I’ve hired professionals to do everything,” she says. “We’ll just get in their way.”
She knows this because she has, at every other event with catering staff, gotten in the way. She’s finally learned her lesson — no meddling this time. So far she's stayed strong, but she's not sure she'll last the night.
“Right,” Thomas says, nodding, hands still between hers. “That makes sense. Our equipment managers say the same thing.”
She bets they do. Vladimir in particular was a menace about his equipment — she’s sure they popped a bottle of champagne the day he retired.
“I know what you can do for me,” she says, and Thomas brightens right up. He really is too good a boy for his own good. She imagines people take advantage of it all the time. Look at her, doing it right now.
“Can you find Anton for me?” she says. “I worry he’s hiding.”
She doesn’t worry he’s hiding, exactly — she knows he’s hiding — she only worries he’ll continue hiding after all the guests have arrived, leaving poor Thomas to muddle his way through a room of people he doesn’t know. Not that Antosha knows everyone, and many of the people he does know haven’t seen him since he was a little boy, so it’s really more them knowing him — she’s sure he’ll be delighted to hear ‘you were just this high when last I saw you’ over and over again.
Perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised he’s hiding. And she isn’t. But Thomas is a guest, though a particularly helpful, considerate one, and Anton may not be hosting the party, but he is hosting Thomas. And Tonya did not raise a bad host. Or, unfortunately she did, she thinks, but he certainly didn’t learn it from her. Thankfully Thomas is very easily pleased, and loyal enough that he’d likely tell her Anton was being an excellent host if she asked.
Thomas nods again, like a little bobblehead. She’s slightly disappointed the Canadiens haven’t done one for him, at least to her knowledge — she thinks Vladimir would be delighted to put it by the ones of him and Antosha in his show-off room. He loves them. Never tires of bobbing their heads. “Can I have my—“
“Your hands, of course,” Tonya says, letting them go. “Do you know the saying? About cold hands?”
“I do,” Thomas says, with a broad smile. She bets he does. Bets people quote it all the time. “Don’t worry, I’ll drag Anton out of wherever he’s hiding.”
“By the hair if you need to,” Tonya says, and smiles at the laugh that trails Thomas up the stairwell.
He doesn’t deserve that boy, Tonya thinks, then goes to bother Vladimir one last time. She hopes that, this time, he’ll actually get ready instead of just saying he already is. Perhaps that’s optimistic. But she thinks everyone needs a little optimism to make it to three decades.
“Tony,” she hears Thomas crooning as she walks down the hall, sounding a little like he’s trying to lure a feral cat, and she smiles wider. Perhaps he’s exactly what Antosha deserves after all.
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DPxDC - Mafia Ties
Good parents Fenton and redeemed Vlad escaping to another universe with Danny, Jordan, Ellie, Jazz, Tucker, and Sam because of GIW chaos getting so bad they literally need to go to another world to get help, only for the portal to close, and they can't open it from this side. Jordan is Jazz's age maybe a year older and Ellie accidentally got deaged to her actual age give or take which is probably about a year and a half old. Yes it's the Family Breakfast ship.
@hallowsden
Cue Vlad doing his whole possession stuff to not only get them new identities but carefully accumulate a small amount of wealth, not enough to be suspicious in his opinion but still.
The Fenton parents start looking to see if/where this world has ectoplasm because the kids, and maybe Vlad, need it. Hel, maybe the parents accidentally need it too after all those years of exposure.
I know everyone chooses Gotham for this stuff, but also that's about the most I know about DC and it has a Lazarus pit underground so we're using it.
Vlad doesn't get back into the proper businessman profile, too many eyes for him to feel safe after the GIW disaster, but he does end up a Mafia boss, or at least tries. Also, Hood becomes a new 'son' obsession for him, yeah he has Danny and Jordan and Ellie but this kid is also ghosty and probably hungry or something, right?
Hood doesn't get what's up with this weird older man who always has a baby with him, let alone why he'd even bring a baby along to mafia stuff.
Vlad thinks it's safer to have Ellie in mafia meetings than be left with the Fentons during their research obsession periods because they will literally not pay attention to anything else unless it's an emergency, it's not their fault, they're learning to manage it though.
Speaking of Fentons, they work on clean energy manufacturing topside, but underground they deal with weapons. Mostly they supply them to Vlad's crew, since that's basically their testing grounds, but they also don't make anything that's actually lethal. Vlad isn't a fan of guns though but he isn't about to bring out his plasma blasts if there isn't a good reason. (He pretends anyone who sees him cackling like a maniac hit their head, he did say he hates using guns after all).
Jordan and Jazz are probably about 17/18 now. Jazz is going to college, while Jordan slips his way into the kid's mafia (yes he knows he's a kid now too, shut up, he used to be 24). This is half to annoy Vlad and half because he's curious. Jazz, of course, with a little help from both Vlad and Tucker in getting her grades moved between universes, is in college soon, and manages a full scholarship (not that Vlad wouldn't have paid if he still had his old money, in fact he might even be a little jealous that he wasn't the one to pay for her schooling).
Jordan looks a little more like Vlad than he does Jack, due to the way the ghost half fusion effects everything, but he also looks more like Jack than Maddie because Jack is what Danny would have grown into anyway.
Ellie of course just looks like a nearly carbon copy of Danny of course, just baby and female.
Danny, Sam, and Tucker are all going to Gotham Prep, if Vlad can't pay for Jazz's schooling then he's paying at just some for theirs (they might have partial scholarships but not full ride). Danny still sneaks out at night because he can't stand sitting still after an hour time being a vigilante and ends up running into the Bat. He promptly apologizes for invading his haunt and flees.
If any ships, I'm thinking Jazz/Jason and Jordan/Dick, but I'm a sucker for everlasting Trio and Tim also has a trio of his own.
Back to Ellie and Vlad. He of course is trying to keep any 'Meta' rumors on the downlow, but she's just a baby. The harness she's in is ghost proof mostly so she can't just phase out of it, but you try changing a baby's diaper and they just turn intangible, or put then down to nap when they start floating. Hel, imagine setting her down for two seconds, she accidentally makes a shield, and now she's crying because she wants to be held. Sure, Vlad and Danny both, Jordan and Ellie too, can go through shields in human form, but that doesn't mean it doesn't sting or something. Eventually it gets figured out though.
I wonder how long it takes Jason to figure out that this Jordan fellow is related to Vlad. 😂
I also wonder what it would take for Vlad to actually use his ghost form outright, what kind of threat he'd expose himself to for the sake of his family. Just, shoving the kids at Jack - "Darling your aim is iced tea, let Maddie and myself handle this" - and doing what he has to.
And, yes, even as a Mafia boss he refuses to actually swear. Also, he probably still goes by Plasmius, the way his other form looks does NOT help the vampire rumors. Let alone the- well, I read a post on here a while ago where Ellie Danny and Jordan were deaged and needed his ectoplasm to survive. Imagine being a Plasmius goon in a meeting while he's trying to rock his baby to sleep and she's just sucking on his hand. You don't think much of it until you see he's bleeding and, even though it's technically red, your pretty sure it's glowing green and you're not sure if you want to ask (you won't but still). Plus, he's not even reacting to what must be a fair bit of pain, right?
Honestly, there's probably a betting pool about the whole weird family.
And of course I'm bringing in my Alfred Clockwork storyline. Flashpoint Thomas is Frighty, dead Thomas is Pariah, and Gotham is Martha. The moment Vlad finds out that Jason's grandparents are some of the most powerful ghosts in the realms (or at least this side of them in Gotham's case) he's like "okay I won't interfere, but maybe he'd like a friend? He doesn't seem to know a lot of ghosts.' (he tries to figure out which kid would be a better fit and that's when he finds out Jordan's been working for Hood this whole time. "You didn't tell me?" "You didn't know?!") 😂
Basically, give me a Mafia family who's major story plot isn't even the bats outright, it's just trying to survive after fleeing a world that may as well be destroyed at this point. Sure, they interact with the bats, cross paths, maybe even a couple relationships, but, overall, the Fenton-Masters are just outsiders in Gotham, learning to adjust to this new life.
#Fenton-Masters Mafia Crossover#Fenton-Masters Mafia AU#Fenton-Masters Mafia Family#dpxdc#dpxdc crossover#dpxdc au#dimensional travel#new life
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HOME (TO THE OL’ BALL AND CHAIN)
(OR, THE PIÑA COLADA SONG)
Pairing: Chilchuck Tims x Fem!Chilchuck's Wife!Reader
Word Count: 2,499 words
Warnings: None
Summary: Five years after leaving your first and only love, you take the plunge into the dating scene – and immediately regret it. Maybe you're too picky, but none of the men you go out with seem to fit the bill; they're too non-committal, or too eager, or too happy, or too sad, or simply just too much ... so after a particularly bad experience, your youngest makes a last-ditch effort to set you up on a blind date with someone who she insists deserves a chance.
You reluctantly agree.
read on ao3 | read on quotev
DATE #1: CASUAL LUNCH
Estranged husband — 1
Estranged wife — 1
Everything left unsaid — as desired
There’s bacon grease on his shirt.
You can see it underneath his collar, round fingerprints staining the pale linen grey, and when he leans across the threshold into Fler’s home all you can think about is laundry day at the end of the week.
It would be rude to admit that out loud, though.
“Thank you for walking me home,” you say.
“When can I see you again?”
“I don’t know.”
Abelwood teeters forward still. “Well, don’t take too long, hear? You ain’t gettin’ any younger.”
Laughter erupts from the beer in his gut, and you laugh along with him. Abelwood is a rowdy drunk, you’ve learned, which is better than a cruel drunk or a lecherous drunk. It is not the kind of drunk that you are used to bringing home, even if he is only brought to the front door, but –
You smile, regardless.
“Goodnight,” you bid, closing the door inch by inch, your last bit of energy disappearing with the click of the lock.
You hold your breath. It takes three minutes and thirty-seven seconds for the man to leave your front doorstep, and you wait thirty more seconds after that to peek through the window, verifying that he is far enough away before resting your forehead against the door with a groan.
“Oh, boy.”
“I’m too old for this, Fler,” you mutter into the wood. “He was awful.”
Flertom lets out a sigh and closes the distance to squeeze you in a hug, pressing her cheek against your back like she’s done ever since she grew tall enough to do so. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she says.
“I’m sorry too.”
As you pat her hands and turn around to smile wryly at her, Puckpatti pipes up from the middle of the living room.
“He was a pig,” she exclaims. “Calling you by your first name! And he wasn’t even that handsome!”
“Looks aren’t everything, Puck,” you reply sharply, and she pouts, squeezing the lump of clay in her hands until it squishes out between her fingers. “He was a pig for the way he acted.”
“Well … that too.”
“He also smelled like one,” Fler says.
You detach yourself from your daughter to loosen the belt at your waist, frowning down at your dress and nice leather shoes. The dress feels just about as worn out as you do, the fabric soft and droopy from the humidity, the sunshine-yellow color less vibrant than it had been earlier this evening. The man had spilled beer on the floor of the bar and your shoes still look slightly sticky. Peeling them off just reminds you of the way he had laughed.
“Fler,” you say, “get me a wet rag, would you?”
“Sure, Mama.” Flertom turns to Puckpatti. “Puck, get a wet rag.”
“My hands are all dirty!” your youngest protests, showing her grey palms. “Mei’s closer to the water bucket.” She points to Meijack, who you now notice lingering by the kitchen.
Meijack blinks slowly, then silently fetches a rag, wets it, and brings it to you.
“Are you gonna keep trying, Ma?” she asks while you scrub the heel of your left shoe. “All these guys seem to be wasting your time.”
The chuckle that leaves your mouth is short and dry. “After this one, I don’t think so.” You glance up at your daughters and smile, straightening. “Maybe I should just take you all out on a girls’ date next time, huh? Forget about men for a little while.”
Meijack shrugs. Puckpatti nods eagerly.
“I just don’t know what’s wrong,” Flertom frets. “I’ve seen most of them at work before, and they seemed nice enough even when they were drunk …”
You shrug hopelessly and cross into the living room to sit on the couch. “Maybe it’s me.” As you lean back into the cushions, Meijack and Flertom join you on either side. “I’ve only ever been with one man my whole life. Maybe I don’t even know what I want …”
There’s a moment of silence. You look up at the ceiling of Flertom’s home, rubbing your temples and willing your frustration with yourself to not spill over while your daughters are watching. How embarrassing. Here you are, their mother, who is supposed to show them an example of a happy relationship, only for them to comfort you after another failed date. It should be the other way around. Half-foots don’t live long enough for things like this; your own mother had told you when you first left him that you should’ve just sucked it up.
Finally, Flertom speaks up. “Mama,” she starts, hesitant, and you look over to see her playing with her fingers, “Do you really want to date someone?”
“It’s been long enough, don’t you think?” you answer.
As you say so, a name resurfaces in your mind, unbidden, and the face that belongs to it. Your jaw tightens and you look down at your hands.
“Well … um … Papa wrote last week, and he said that he wanted to talk to you sometime. Just a little bit.”
Your tone hardens. “And what does that have to do with me dating, Fler?”
She flinches and her lips push out. “Come on, Mama! It’s been years, and after everything he went through, I really think he’s better now! Don’t you at least want to talk to him? You were so in love with each other before he started adventuring, and now that he’s retired from it …”
You hold your hand up, and her jaw clicks shut.
“I know what you’re getting at, Flertom,” you say quietly. “And right now is not the best time to bring up your father.”
Your daughter deflates, her cheeks rosy. “But –”
“I mean it.” Standing, you heave a deep breath and examine the cluttered workstation that Puckpatti had set up on the living room table. “Puckpatti, make sure to clean up after you’re done. I’m going to bed.”
While the girls mope, you head to your bedroom, doing your best to occupy your thoughts with work at the blacksmith’s tomorrow. You think about the chain mail you’re supposed to be making, the little metal rings to form and weave together, and hope they’re what you dream of, not self-absorbed dates or unwanted kisses.
You blame Flertom for the auburn hair and hearty laughs that plague your night instead.
—
A week later, Puckpatti accosts you as soon as you walk through the door.
“Mama, I found a man for you!”
“Oh?” you reply blandly, hand still clutching at your chest from having the living daylights scared out of it. “Who is it?”
“That’s a secret! But he’s really nice, I promise.”
Sighing, you remove your vest. “I don’t know, Puck. How did you meet him?”
“He bought one of my clay sticks.” You can’t stop yourself from frowning, despite your desire to support your daughter’s entrepreneurial spirit, and she giggles. “Oh, please, Mama, he didn’t believe my pitch. I think I just charmed him into buying it. He seems really clever!”
“Are you sure he wasn’t interested in you?”
She makes a disgusted face. “Eww! No, I told him about you and he seemed interested.”
“Oh, really?”
“Mama, you’re a catch. Of course he’d want to go on a date with you.”
“That’s sweet of you to say, honey.” You glance at her before heading to the kitchen to put away the bread and cheese you’d bought. “Is he a half-foot?”
“Maybe.”
“I thought I’d met all the half-foots in Kahka Brud.”
“Maybe he just moved here.”
She looks up innocently when you raise an eyebrow at her. “And you’re sure I’ll like him,” you drawl, more suspicious by the minute. (Of what, you’re not quite sure.)
“Positive.”
It is incredibly difficult, you think with equal parts pride and concern, to say no to your youngest daughter. It’s probably why you worry about her the most. “This is the last date I’ll go on, Puckpatti. It will be on you.”
Puckpatti cheers. She hugs you as you chuckle at her enthusiasm, jumping up and down. “Yay! I’ll get a time and day that’ll work best. It’ll be great! You’ll love him!”
“For your sake, I hope so.”
—
The day arrives with a mellow sun and clear sky.
You wear your green dress with the floral details, and Puckpatti picks a necklace to go along with it, a thin, simple one that you haven’t worn in years. Flertom does your makeup and Meijack does your hair.
And as you sit in a corner of the tavern fifteen minutes early, hands nervously clasped in your lap, you wonder, just as you have with every date prior, what you’ve gotten yourself into.
Maybe he won’t show up. It would be improper, and juvenile, but then you could go home and say that you did try. Your desire for a new romance has all but dwindled completely, and as you trace the scratches on the wooden table, you wonder if it was even a desire at all.
Footsteps approach from behind. You can tell they belong to a half-foot by the weight and sound – light and small – as they come around to the other side of the table. Your shoulders tighten. Forcing a smile, you look up.
Your heart promptly surges upward into your throat before plummeting to your toes.
Chilchuck gawks down at you, eyes wide. His mouth parts to utter your full name, and you feel your lungs squeeze at how it sounds coming from him, soft from years of disuse.
“You came,” he says.
“Chil – Chilchuck.” His name is ashy and sweet behind your teeth. “What are you doing here?”
He furrows his brow. “What do you mean? The girls said that you were willing to meet up.”
“No, I’m meeting with one of Puck’s customers.”
“What? That doesn’t …” he trails off, and the two of you seem to realize the same thing at the same time.
You bury your head in your hand as Chilchuck grits his teeth.
Those scheming …
“I’m sorry they dragged you into this,” you mutter as you get up from your seat, your voice cold and flat. “I’ll be going now.”
His head snaps up. “Going? But –”
You hurry past him, dodging the hand that you know has reached out for your own.
Home is a ten-minute walk away. You can clear your head in that time, then scold your daughters for meddling, though it’s partially your fault for not questioning Puckpatti about your supposed date more thoroughly. You just didn’t think that they would try something like this.
(Or that Chilchuck would bother to go along with it.)
You pull the door open with some effort and rush out into a downpour of rain.
Your hair gets drenched before you backpedal with a yelp. Pressing against the wall underneath the awning, you look out helplessly at the soaked streets, their gutters already filling with water and debris flowing down the incline. Is … is that a drowning rat?
The storm’s earthiness floods your nose, late in its prediction by half an hour. Just your luck.
You fumble with the clasp of your necklace to remove it, not wanting to get it wet. While you struggle, the tavern door creaks open behind you.
“So you don’t even want to talk. Even after all these years, you’re going to walk away again.”
“Do you know why I walked away the first time?” The damn thing won’t unhook. You scowl, the presence at your back making your usually nimble fingers clumsy.
“No,” Chilchuck says. “I don’t. Not for certain.”
“That’s why.” With each failed attempt to separate the rings, your fingertips grow sorer, your throat thickening. He’s too close. You hate how he’s watching you fail such a simple task. “You stopped knowing, Chilchuck. That’s why.”
Underneath the sharp sound of rain, you can hear his breath hitch, then quiet.
You bite your lip and let your arms fall to your sides, giving up on trying to take your necklace off. Your chest aches. You don’t want to cry in front of him.
“So, there, we talked like you wanted.”
He stops you before you can step out into the rain.
“Wait. What … what about your necklace?” he asks hesitantly, like it’s not what he really wants to say, but merely a way to stall for time.
This time, you look over your shoulder at him. “I’ll dry it real well once I get home,” you reply.
Chilchuck’s mouth presses into a fine line. He grabs the cloak folded over the crook of his elbow, and it is then that you notice the bouquet of blue and pink flowers in his other hand. The ache in your chest flares into a raw, pulsing hurt.
“I’m guessing you’d rather not have me walk you.” He speaks evenly, holding his cloak out towards you. “It’s not completely waterproof, but keep this over your head, at least …” his voice quiets, “please.”
Wordlessly, you take the garment from him. The inner lining is warm against your skin.
“I’m sorry,” he tells you. “For not knowing.” His fist tightens around the flowers, and he stares at you resolutely. “I want to again, if you’ll let me.”
Ah.
You swallow. “I … I don’t know.”
“It doesn’t have to be today. I can wait.”
Breaking eye contact and looking down, Chilchuck roughs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up. The cut is the same as it’s always been, auburn bangs thick and soft over his brow. And you recognize the shirt he’s wearing, a practical, clean wool shirt that you made some years ago. He’s taken good care of it.
It’s all the same. All the same, and yet, something that you can’t quite identify has changed.
You bring his cloak closer to your chest and bite your bottom lip.
“… Give me a week.”
His entire body loses its tension.
“Really?” He looks at you like he can’t believe it, and you avert your gaze, ears warming and moving back the slightest bit.
“Give me a week to decide,” you clarify. “Fler or Mei will let you know … this is really abrupt, after all …”
Chilchuck nods. “That’s fine!” he exclaims. “You didn’t know, so I understand. A week is – a week’s good.”
You nod back, hesitant.
The rain continues its heavy downpour.
“Right … well …” you turn slightly, casting him one last glance, “I’ll give your cloak back, regardless. Don’t get sick.”
“Okay. Stay … stay safe.”
With that, you wrap yourself in the thick fabric, rushing out of the safety of the awning. The run back home smells of woodsmoke and thyme, and when you open the door to three guilty daughters and three apologies, it lingers.
You hang his cloak near the fireplace. It’s evidence of a weak resolve that you stay until it’s dry, and even more damning that you know your answer long before it is.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dunmeshi#chilchuck tims x reader#chilchuk tims#chilchuck x reader#chilchuck#dungeon meshi fanfiction#reader insert#fem!reader#my emotional support middle-aged divorced father of three.......#throw this guy in a childhood friends to lovers to estranged lovers to lovers fic and see how he handles it#chilchuck's wife!reader let's gooooo
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Okay, I want to play too. Building off of @dustorange's post and @silverwhittlingknife's post
I think, how I would play this: the circus still happens obviously.
And then Dick dies when he's 16 in circumstances similar to Batman #408, where Dick is shot by the Joker and it causes him to fall to his death. (Dick has to die by falling. To me.) Bruce isn't able to catch him.
Bruce is obviously devastated. Going off of Silver, we'll say no Robin!Jason in this AU. Jason can get away with stealing the tires off of the Batmobile of an extremely grieving Batman. As a treat.
Tim is also devastated. I usually have Tim being 3 at the circus, so I guess he's 11-12 when this happens.
I think the fact that Dick was the only Robin in this scenario means that Tim is more reluctant to push himself as a replacement Robin. That and the fact that his HERO Dick Grayson died means I think that he's slower to act.
Eventually though, things get bad enough in Gotham that he does just because someone has to and he ends up as Robin. We'll handwave the details for now.
I think that Dick should get to come back to life during the Knightfall Saga. As a treat.
He comes back to Gotham just in time to see that there's a new Robin and watch Bruce get his back broken.
Tim's been Robin longer before Knightfall in this AU, so he's got a little more experience, but he's also 14, and while Bruce is lying in the Batcave and they don't know whether he's going to wake up or not, and he's fetching the medicine in that one comic, he runs into this unknown, edgy looking vigilante who blames him for Bruce getting his back broken and it's just everything he's been thinking to himself.
Dick sticks around in Gotham long enough to see that there's a new Batman and of course Bruce has someone else he can get to do that. Of course he doesn't need Dick. He runs off to go do like, black-ops vigilante work somewhere.
I think he and Tim do run into eachother once more before Dick leaves town though and Tim's like 'I know I'll never be as good as the first Robin, but that just means I need to learn everything I can' and tries to bother Dick into teaching him stuff because he can tell that this mysterious vigilante is way more skilled than him.
Dick mostly avoids Gotham, but I think they keep running into each other, coincidentally. Tim ends up teaming up with him during Contagion instead of Catwoman and they're both in Paris at the same time etc etc.
And eventually on one of these team-ups, Dick does a quadruple somersault and Tim sees it and everything clicks together and he imminently runs away because that's Dick Grayson and Tim has been talking up the first Robin all this time and it's a lot okay?
I think this is about when No Man's Land happens so Tim goes to go hide in Gotham and help out Batman and become a National News story and all that jazz instead of thinking about it.
But afterwards, Tim is ON THE CASE. I think he doesn't tell Bruce about this because if Dick hasn't told Bruce then he probably has his reasons? And what he was actually wrong? (Even though he knows he isn't)
And then, um, let's put the Dick and Bruce finally confronting each other during Bruce Wayne: Murderer/Fugitive because Dick comes back to Gotham when he hears that Bruce murdered someone because he doesn't want to believe it, but I think he also can't have that same bone deep belief in his innocence that he does in canon because of all the estrangement.
So he attacks Batman and demands to know the truth (without revealing who he is) and Bruce won't answer. Bruce also doesn't know how this mysterious vigilante knows he's Bruce Wayne/got accused of murder, so he low key suspects DICK of framing him, which normally he'd be too busy being Batman full time to care, but here he also recognizes some of Dick's fighting style so he starts investigating him to uncover the mystery.
Meanwhile, Tim noticed that Dick is back in town, so he's trying to recruit Dick to help him get to the bottom of this. He knows Dick's identity now, but he doesn't tell Dick that, he just drops various hints that he knows and hooks Dick up with a line to Oracle (who he has also not shared his conclusions with other than a vague 'there's something about him')
And hmm somehow this all resolves with like, Dick's identity getting out and him and Bruce talking face to face. Bruce is just so desperately amazed that Dick is there, meanwhile Dick still has various issues that are not resolved and it probably ends with Dick running away again and Bruce holding himself back from chasing after him like he desperately wants to. Because if Dick doesn't want anything to do with him then that's just his right because Bruce WAS the one who got him killed.
He does stalk Dick from afar though. Just without initiating contact. Tim and Barbara are more pushy about trying to hang out/talk with Dick in the aftermath.
To skip ahead, I think Bruce leaves Dick the Batmantle after he 'dies' as this last ditch attempt to share how much he loves and respects Dick.
And this getting long so I think I'll call it here.
#batman#dc#bats + birds + affiliated#my au ideas#tim drake#dick grayson#bruce wayne#last of the flying graysons#tim tag#utrh dick au#havendance writes#carthago delenda est
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Not putting children on blockers is licherally trans genocide!.. Unless it ends up being just a phase, then the child is an evil detranser who wasn't trans to begin with
I think this is my favorite bit of trans cult "logic".
"Everyone who says they're trans is trans unless they change their mind later then they were never trans even though they said they were trans and met the only criteria we put on what makes a trans person trans".
Do you see why, hundreds of thousands of years ago when we decided certain sounds put together in a certain order meant things, we all kind of just decided, as a species, in isolation, that these sounds should always mean the same thing? Do you see why language only works if you clearly define the words you use and then don't change those definitions every week? You can't lay out one single definition of trans, which is "anyone who says they're trans", and then say "well actually you're only trans until you say you're not trans, then you were never trans at all". Nope. Sorry. By your own definition, they were trans. And now they're not. Which means being trans is a choice and not something a person is inherently born as.
Man, if only there was some kind of criteria that medical professionals agreed on to define what makes a person transgender. Maybe even something that was in wide use until very recently. They could call it something simple and official sounding, maybe something like "gender dysphoria", or something. And you could say that trans people are people who are professionally diagnosed with gender dysphoria. That way, you can say people are born trans (and since we don't know what causes gender dysphoria, it might even be true!) and that someone who stops transitioning because physically changing their body makes them dysphoric (See? The word just keeps working!) wasn't actually trans to begin with.
If only such a term existed.
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the unwinnable game
[~2.7k words. Read it here or on Ao3]
Zugzwang (from German 'compulsion to move'; pronounced [ˈtsuːktsvaŋ]) is a situation found in chess and other turn-based games wherein one player is put at a disadvantage because of their obligation to make a move.
Centuries after their battle atop Mt Coronet, Rei confronts Volo in a nondescript forest, somewhere on Pasio. But the answers he's seeking aren't so easily given.
aka. a continuation of that one dialogue cliffhanger in the Mysterious Stones chapter because I'm extremely normal about these two
///
“There's something you'd like to say, isn't there… Rei?”
Volo turns around and Rei musters up the bravest expression he can.
Now that he's here, he doesn't know what to say first; all his planned questions bounce around his head, clamouring for dominance. Why are you here? How? Since when? You have a Togepi and a Togekiss? Why a tournament? What do you know about the mysterious stones?
Were we ever really friends?
That is, it takes an embarrassingly long time for Rei to respond. In the end, what he says isn’t a question at all. “That Togepi in the ruins was yours.”
Volo only shrugs. He's got a languid smile on his face. “It might've been. She likes running around.”
Internally, Rei is relieved. So he hasn't been seeing things. But he doesn't let it show on his face, and crosses his arms. “Why’d you hide from everyone for months, and only show yourself now?”
“Now, I wouldn't call it hiding,” Volo replies, waving his finger. “This is a big island, and I've made a good few acquaintances here on Pasio already! Perhaps our paths simply didn't cross.”
With the number of times Rei has visited the ruins for mysterious stone research, the odds of that are vanishingly unlikely. “But why didn't you even try? It's not like I've been keeping a low profile.” Of course, the reason is probably something like I tried to end the world and it would be awkward. And that's what Rei needs Volo to say.
The Arc Phone sits heavily in his belt satchel, recording every word.
“Oh, I was just preoccupied. The ruins here are simply fascinating! Even though they're replicas, teasing apart all the ancient cultures used in their construction is such a fruitful area of study. You know me.”
Yeah, I know you. “Find anything interesting about Arceus?” Rei snarks.
“Not particularly!” Volo shakes his head, looking disappointed. Then he perks up, and continues, “Now, Dialga and Giratina however…”
“Oh?” Rei seethes quietly. Of course he had been watching. Why hadn't Giratina said anything?
“It’s curious, isn’t it, how they have seen fit to partner themselves with new wielders?” Volo smiles. “And Palkia too, I’ve heard.”
“It is interesting,” Rei forces out, adjusting his scarf. He recalls Volo's last parting line about Arceus, all those months ago. “Nice to know that they've bonded willingly with people in this time,” he says pointedly.
Ignoring Rei's tone, Volo continues, “That man, Cyrus, who controls Palkia. What a character, wouldn't you say?”
Rei has a lot of thoughts about the Sinnohans’ decision to allow Cyrus - a man who has literally tried to remake the world and not disavowed said goal - to keep the embodiment of Space with him. He'd thought Adaman and Irida had to be joking, at first. What would the Captain think if she saw what her descendant had turned the Galaxy Team into…
“I suppose you see yourself in him.” Rei says flatly.
It's only the two of them here, in the middle of a forest, in the dead of night, so Volo should have no reason to be evasive. And yet -
“Hardly,” Volo laughs off. “Intellectual curiosity, nothing more.”
This is going nowhere. Does Volo seriously think he can fool him again? Probably not - every remark is undoubtedly purposeful, but with just enough plausible deniability to appear innocent. So maybe he just wants to mess with him. Great.
A different strategy, maybe. He’ll surely make a mistake at some point if Rei keeps pushing. “This… tournament that you proposed,” Rei says. “I suppose you're participating?”
“Naturally!” Volo says cheerfully. “Battles on Pasio are done in teams, are they not? Perhaps you'd like to-”
“No.” Rei glares at him. Oh, now, that was going too far. Going to shut that line of conversation immediately.
“So hostile,” Volo sighs. “A united Hisuian contingent would've been a sight to see. Well, the clan leaders should be more receptive, at least.”
“Not if I can help it,” Rei says, crossing his arms. He’s well aware of how childish it sounds, but the thought of his friends falling for Volo’s innocent merchant act, again, is too horrible to consider. Mentally, he rapidly revises his priorities - he has to meet with Adaman and Irida as soon as possible and explain everything. Tomorrow, ideally. Does he have the energy for that? It’s something like one in the morning, right now. He's dead on his feet. But he’ll make it happen. He has to, before Volo does.
But what if he’s already too late? When had Rei last spoken to them? The dance competition, that wasn’t that long ago, right? At least a week, maybe more, his mind supplies. He'd just been so busy… and surely they would have told him if they'd met Volo.
This little anxious spiral must be evident on Rei’s face somehow, because Volo chuckles, stepping closer. “The world doesn't revolve around you, Rei. Not here.”
“You don’t get to act all high and mighty,” Rei snaps. “Not when you’re pulling everyone along on your own strings. I suppose you think you make the world go ‘round.”
But Volo has a point, no matter how much he hates to admit it. Rei’s been assuming he was someone significant to this whole saga. The appearance of the mysterious stones coincided with his and Akari’s arrival to Pasio, after all, so was he really wrong for thinking that?
And Arceus spoke to him first. That had to mean something.
“On the contrary, I simply meant that we’re all on equal ground,” Volo says. For the first time, goes unspoken.
“I’ll still beat you,” Rei vows. He’d done it before, he could do it again. No matter if he was still favoured by Arceus or not. “Because my bonds with my Pokemon, and my friends, are real. And you don’t know what that feels like.” Though intended to be a sharp jab at Volo, instead, a deep bitterness colours those final words.
Volo’s expression twists into something briefly unreadable before it settles into a polite half-smile. “You’re quick to assume the worst of me.”
“Quick?” Rei barks out a harsh laugh. “No, it was exactly the opposite.” He’d been strung along so thoroughly, accepting every strange behaviour as simply one of Volo’s little oddities. Only up at the Celestica Ruins did those allowances start to crumble – and by then, it was too late.
Volo’s look at Rei is one of intrigue. The way Rei's seen him examining ancient ruins, like he's something Volo wants to observe, or study.
And Rei has had it. Enough dancing around the subject, trying to draw it out of Volo; clearly it’s never going to happen. “Is this all just a game to you? You tried to destroy the world! You want me to think you care about anyone?”
Volo raises an eyebrow. “That's a bold claim. Surely if that had happened, it would've ended up in the history books, somewhere.”
Well – okay. The only person who knew what happened was the Professor, sort of. And Cogita. Arceus knows how she found out. But Professor Laventon didn't know half of it, even, Rei had just incoherently vented everything emotional and hurting at him, swore him to secrecy, and then hoped that he'd never have to unpack that again.
Clearly Arceus had other designs.
“We were friends.” Rei’s voice cracks a bit, there; he hates how true it is. “I thought we were friends. But you were going to kill me for standing in your way!”
Volo frowns. “Now, why would I do that?” He takes a few paces towards Rei and smiles, purposefully, grin stretching tight across his face. “I wouldn't want to lose my favourite customer, after all!”
Stumbling backwards to regain the distance, Rei exclaims, “I’ve bought maybe one thing from you. Stop calling me that!”
“Recipient of free samples, semantics,” Volo shrugs, entirely unaffected, and Rei wars with the competing urges to punch him or bolt into the treeline.
“Play dumb all you want,” Rei hisses, “but you’ve already shown your hand. I could tell them everything. You won’t be able to fool anyone ever again.” Least of all me.
Volo tilts his head with a smirk. “Well then, why are you here?” he asks, calling Rei’s bluff.
And though he can’t know that the Arc Phone is listening in Rei’s satchel, Rei realises that his motivations must be laughably transparent. Maybe Volo thinks Akari, or Cynthia, is watching the whole thing from the treeline. The specifics of it don’t matter, really. Rei’s been outplayed from the very beginning.
Volo makes a little movement with his hand. There's a sudden rustle of movement behind Rei, and he whips around, hand on Decidueye's Pokeball -
But it's just Volo's Togepi, who warbles in alarm and quickly toddles past him.
“What would people rather believe in?” Volo says lightly. “The accusations of a boy who jumps at shadows?” He bends down to pick up Togepi. “Or in the innocence of their friend?”
In Volo's arms, Togepi lets out an adorable squeak.
Over the Pokeball on his belt, Rei’s hand is trembling with misfired adrenaline. He carefully drops his hand to his side and raises his head up high. “Cynthia trusts me. I’ve been here for months, and we’ve worked together on the mysterious stones since they were first found.”
“And so?” Volo shrugs. “A working relationship is hardly worth much. I thought you would've known better, with what Kamado did…”
Rei flinches.
The worst part about it all was that no matter what ulterior motives Volo might have had, back then, when he’d been thrown out into the wild with barely a few days’ worth of supplies – Volo had been there for him when nobody else was.
Volo had seen Rei fall apart and put himself back together with forced cheer. And so, he knew exactly where the cracks were, where to strike with his words to disassemble Rei all over again.
Of course Rei knows Cynthia is responsible, and smart, and has been nothing but friendly to him – but he doesn't really know her, does he? And Volo is her ancestor. Which is pretty obvious, honestly. She’d probably like him immediately.
Just like everyone else did. Including Rei.
“Besides, you're not the only one who's been making friends in high places,” Volo adds smoothly. “I’ve heard that Bettie’s word is quite well regarded.”
So now that Rei had wised up to Volo's true nature, he'd gone and found himself new people to use. “You’ve always been like this, then,” Rei huffs. None of it had been real; their entire ‘friendship’ had been predicated on Rei's usefulness. “They deserve to know the truth about you.”
“Truth? Or your own opinion?” Volo scoffs. “You think so highly of yourself, Rei, but you're not the beloved Hero of Hisui here. No…” he smiles. “You're entirely ordinary. Do remember, it was everyone in that stadium who heard Arceus' voice.”
Admittedly, that stings. He'd thought - maybe - that Arceus was finally telling him why He'd brought Rei here. What he was supposed to do in this strange new land. But he'd failed, unable to clearly hear Arceus’ voice.
Rei spares a thought for the Arc Phone, once a vessel for divine inspiration, now reduced to recording mortals’ petty feuds. His messages to Arceus have been left on read for months. He's probably allowed to be a bit petty, at this point.
Volo continues, “Imagine! Any one of us could become Arceus’ champion.” Togepi makes a little noise. “Yes, even you,” he says indulgently, lifting her up to face him, and she goes cross-eyed following his waving finger.
It's horribly cute, the sort of thing Rei would've been charmed by before. And it's clear Volo is no longer taking Rei seriously at all.
What starts out as a wavering thought suddenly asserts itself with startling clarity. “I don't need anything from you,” Rei realises. He'd told himself he was here for evidence, something concrete he could hold against Volo, and that was true. But beyond that, he'd been after something entirely more personal.
He can walk away.
“I don't need anything from you,” he repeats, with force this time.
Volo turns his attention away from Togepi, and this of all things is what finally seems to make him genuinely confused. “Leaving so soon, Rei?”
Rei doesn't elaborate. He turns on his heel to stalk through the forest back to civilisation. Now, because if he says anything more he doesn't know if he'll ever bring himself to stop. Because he's asking for something he'll never get.
Volo's saying something. He doesn't care to catch all the words, though some of it filters through - “challenge”, “tournament”, and “rivals” among them. The general shape of the message is clear. They'll meet again; Rei's powerless to stop that. But as best he can, he'll shake off whatever lingering grip Volo still has on him.
He doesn't stop walking as the trodden earth turns to paved cobbles under his feet, and he makes it all the way up his building's winding stairs to the little studio apartment that he's been given. Home, for now. Collapsing onto the lone armchair, he takes the Arc Phone out of his satchel and turns off the recording. Thank Arceus for divinely bestowed infinite storage, he supposes.
Rei knows that if he were to listen to it, there'd be nothing of use. Only hidden barbs and Rei’s own ugly, wounded anger. It feels fitting to delete it, to banish the whole encounter to memory, and perhaps eventually, less than that.
He doesn't, and instead tucks it away in a folder several layers deep.
Maybe Professor Laventon wrote about the whole disaster in his private diaries. Rei knows he has them, bless the man. He'd once stumbled into the Professor's office late at night, after an exhausting, terrifying escape from an Alpha, ready to tell Laventon off for sending him there – and startled the Professor fiercely, who quickly shut the manuscript he was writing with a blush. So even if Rei had sworn him to secrecy, he might have confided in the written word.
That's something he can set Cynthia on digging up, then. Even just the suggestion that Laventon, the First Pokemon Professor, had such personal writings, would probably send her into an unstoppable research frenzy. That much about her, at least, he knows. If it still existed in this era, Cynthia would almost certainly find it.
And maybe he doesn't need evidence. Not for the people who matter, anyway.
Akari’s only a few doors away, their apartments close neighbours just like back in Jubilife Village. If he wanted, he could wander over there once the sun rose, have her fantastic tamago rice, and tell her everything.
Is he ready to take that step into thin air? To trust that he'll be believed, in something that's infinitely more convoluted and improbable than the simple plea – “I don't know why the sky is red, it's not my fault, I only ever did what you told me to” –
Well. Volo might've been the last one to break his trust, but he was in no way the first.
Can he make good on those words that he’d levelled so confidently against Volo? That his bonds with his friends are real?
Akari had never doubted. And Adaman and Irida had gone against Kamado's will, risking the standing of their people, just to help him. He would be doing them a disservice if he didn't at least try.
And in this dangerous game, it might be the only winning move.
Even as he makes this decision, he feels the pull of sleep. It's offensively late, or early, in the morning now, depending on perspective, and all of this is Tomorrow Rei’s problem.
There's no energy left to even stumble to bed. Rei falls asleep right there in the lumpy armchair, hand loosely gripped around the Arc Phone, Adaman and Irida’s Poryphone numbers on the screen, ready and waiting.
And, though Rei will certainly wake up sore with a crick in his neck come the morning…
For the first time in a long while, his dreams are not restless.
#trainer rei#rei pokemon#volo#volo pokemon#pokemas#pokemon#rei#fanfiction#// tikposting#// fanfic#so. pokemas has been gripping me so hard the past couple of months#that it's even tempted me into writing fic again after three years#yes i know this is about to be rendered non canon in just a few days when the next chapter drops#but i had to get it all out beforehand because gosh there's so much story potential#(btw if you've watched the datamined version please avoid spoilers I'm waiting for official in game release. thank you!!!!)#rei tries to play the game volo's way and fails miserably: the fic#he's out here trying to set up a trap not realising it's extremely obvious#when he does realise it's ten moves into the actual game and he's in the middle of a trap himself. fun#rei pov is very fun he has many many thoughts about things#thanks for reading!!#// tikart
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mitski songs that make me think of reid + a specific lyric
spencer reid is very mitski. but these were the first to come to mind. i do not take criticism.
- working for the knife
honestly, the entire song reminds me of reid, but this in particular:
I always thought the choice was mine
And I was right, but I just chose wrong
I start the day lying and end with the truth
That I'm dying for the knife
- liquid smooth
I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too
I'm at my highest peak, I'm ripe
About to fall
How I feel this river rushing through my veins
With nowhere else to go, it circles 'round
- class of 2013
Mom, would you wash my back?
This once, and then we can forget
And I'll leave what I'm chasing
For the other girls to pursue
Mom, am I still young?
Can I dream for a few months more?
- i don't smoke
Just don't leave me alone
Wondering where you are
I am stronger than you give me
Credit for
If your hands need to break
More than trinkets in your room
You can lean on my arm
As you break my heart
- abbey
again, the entire song is very reid, but:
I am something
I have been something
I was born something
What could I be?
There is a light that I can see
But only, it seems, when there's darkness in me
There is a dream that I sometimes see
That only appears in the dark of sleep
- i bet on losing dogs
Will you let me, baby, lose
On losing dogs
I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place
By the ring
Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down
I wanna feel it
I bet on losing dogs
I always want you when I'm finally fine
- the deal
Then of course, nothing replied, nothing speaks to you in the night
And I walked my way home, there was no one in sight
Save a bird perched upon a streetlight, watchin' me
So, I stopped and let it watch 'til I found that it said
"Now I'm taken, the night has me
You won't hear me singin'
You're a cage without me
Your pain is eased, but you'll never be free for
Now I'm taken, the night has me"
- fireworks
this is perhaps one of the reid-est. here's the particular lyric:
One morning this sadness will fossilize
And I will forget how to cry
I'll keep going to work and you won't see a change
Save perhaps a slight gray in my eye
I will go jogging routinely
Calmly and rhythmically run
And when I find that a knife's sticking out of my side
I'll pull it out without questioning why
- i don't like my mind
again, the entire song is reid, but this is my pick:
I don't like my mind, I don't like being left alone in a room
With all its opinions about the things that I've done
So, yeah, I blast music loud, and I work myself to the bone
And on an inconvenient Christmas, I eat a cake
- first love / late spring
very cliché, but i HAD to include it! here:
And I was so young when I behaved 25
Yet now, I find I've grown into a tall child
And I don't wanna go home
Let me walk to the top of the big night sky
- there's nothing left for you
You could touch fire
You could fly
It was your right
It was your life
And then it passed
To someone new
It'll keep passin' on
Long after you
- nobody
And I don't want your pity
I just want somebody near me
Guess I'm a coward
I just want to feel alright
- because dreaming costs money, my dear
I once lived in the sea
Bring me to your ear, you can hear
The tide where I used to be
Though now I'm but a shell
- a pearl
Sorry, I don't want your touch
It's not that I don't want you
Sorry, I can't take your touch
It's just that I fell in love with a war
Nobody told me it ended
And it left a pearl in my head
And I roll it around every night
Just to watch it glow
Every night, baby, that's where I go
- real men
Real men keep cool in the face of a fire
Go down with the ship
And real men don't eat
'Cause they're above that, damn it
Oh, I'm gonna be a real man
- crack baby
It's been a long, hard 20 year summer vacation
Both these 20 years tryna fill the void
Crack baby, you don't know what you want
But you know that you had it once
And you know that you want it back
Crack baby, you don't know what you want
But you know that you're needing it
And you know that you need it bad
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Imagine Nico, Mordechai, and Viktor with an S/O that is an artist.
Nico would constantly be hyping you up and wanting you to draw/paint him. He would even offer to model for you!
Mordechai would support you but also ask that you try to keep your area clean. He hates messes. He would push you to submit your work to local art galleries cause he wants you to succeed.
Viktor would love watching you. The quiet that fills the air between you while you work feels so peaceful to him. But he wouldn't like you painting him, he would tell you to paint something beautiful instead and get flustered when you tell him that he is beautiful.
These are all facts and I agree with every single one of them.
Nico bragging to anyone that will listen { even ones that wont } about how amazing you are. The Marigold Gang members are tired of it but they're to scared to even say anything but they are impressed with how much talent you have.
Nico that makes his boss Atlas buy your work because you deserve all the recognition in the world,he's so proud of you.
Would be up for a little fun with the paints, Nico wouldn't say no to painting you.
Mordecai who is in awe of your artwork but will mostly stay silent about it. { He's never been good at conveying his emotions }
Keep's the first thing you drew for him in his wallet, while its small Mordecai treasures it. He doesn't know what he'd do if he lost it.
Turned his once clean office space, into your own art space. Mordecai knows that you do your best but it is hard so at least now you have your own space that can be a mess.
Know's you won't submit your own art work so he does it himself, Mordecai knows you deserve it.
Viktor is touched when you use him as any inspiration. He doesn't understand why you would ever want to paint him.
Is very at peace when you paint, Viktor feel's at peace when he's with you.
Keep's everything you paint for him on his wall, Viktor will reluctantly give one to Ivy or Mitiz a painting for free.
Rocky will have to buy one.
Viktor will do his best to get your name out there though he may end up sound like you're threatening them.
Mordecai end's up helping the man when he begrudgingly ask's
#hc#hcs#nico#nico savoy#nico savoy x reader#Nicodeme Nico Savoy#nicodeme savoy#Nicodeme Savoy x reader#Nicodeme Savoy lackadaisy#nico lackadaisy#lackadaisy nico#mordecai#mordecai heller#mordecai heller lackadaisy#lackadaisy mordecai#mordecai heller x reader#viktor#viktor vasko#viktor vasko x reader#viktor lackadaisy#lackadaisy viktor#lackadaisy#lackadaisy x reader
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Honkai Star Rail X Arknights | Yandere!Sunday X Sankta!Reader | Part Two
You have always been a sensitive sleeper, not necessarily light, but very aware of what was happening to your body when unconscious. You could feel every poke, prod, and needle that touched your skin, no matter how deep your sleep was. And right now, you can feel someone touching you, probably trying their best to wake up you.
You shiver and twitch at the sudden touches. The cold touch was definitely The Doctor's gloved hands.
Sunday, who has been leading you away from the bright and colourful lights of the city seems to notice this agitation. The feathers on one of his wings twitches slightly, not so dissimilar to a cat's ear hearing a sound behind them.
"Are you alright?"
You rub your arm across the goosebumps that now liter your skin, hair prickling against the fabric of your glove.
"Fine," you say through gritted teeth.
Sunday, in one swift motion, turns directly around to face you, his seemingly imposing presence staring down at you. His heels snap together, hands pressed against his back in a professional manner. He leans in towards you, a light seemingly emitting from his halo.
"Lying is a bad habit."
You don't get why, but chills and anxiety flood through your blood system. You can feel your heart beating faster, so fast, in fact, you wonder if Doctor Loriann noticed the spike. You can almost feel their fingers pressing against your neck.
"I'm not lying," you bite back.
You're a combat specialist, along side being a medical researcher. You're not going to back down to some man in a suit. This man probably has never had a physical fight in his life.
His eyes suddenly feel like they're burning, searing, into the calloused flesh of my body. You can't help but feel itchy, like thousands of spindly spiders are crawling underneath the surface of your skin.
You'd almost rather deal with your Oripathy pains than this uncomfortable feeling. You can't help but swallow a sharp pain in your throat.
After agonizing seconds, Sunday looks away. He straightens his spine, his eyes closed with contemplation. It looks as though his wings extend a little, a similar tactic as a bird to increases their size.
"May The Harmony forgive your words," he mutters under his breath.
Sunday turns back around in a sharp and crisp movement before raising his hand, a sign to continue to follow him.
You can't argue, he's apparently an authority in this place... Then it dawns on you...
"U-Um... I know that this is a little late to ask, b-but what is your name?"
Sunday casually looks over his shoulder, the lights of the city in front of him giving him a glow.
"Hmm? Did I never introduce myself? I deeply apologize. My name is Sunday Oak, head of the Oak Family. And you are?"
You bite both of your lips, feeling the plush between your teeth.
"Um... I-I'm (Y/n)... but you can call me Lamplight... It's my codename."
"Lamplight? Codename? Why would you need a codename?"
"... It's not important."
Sunday hums lightly before cooing.
"You'll tell me eventually. You are going to be questioned after all. Don't forget, you're under suspicion as a stowaway into the Dreamscape."
You can't help but grumble, kicking the ground slightly in annoyance.
"Sack of dirt-- Feather Faced-- Stupid freaking--"
❥ Sunday wishes so badly he could read your thoughts. He wants to know anything and everything, wanting to pick your brain apart.
❥ Sunday who has to restrain himself from immediately using the power of The Harmony that was so graciously gifted upon him.
❥ Sunday who wishes to punish you as the sinner you are.
#honkai star rail#crossover#star rail#arknights#halovian#sankta#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere sunday#x reader#x you#x y/n#yandere sunday x you#yandere sunday x reader#yandere sunday x y/n#sunday x reader#sunday x you#sunday x y/n#hsr
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Enjoy Upthere for the both of us
TW - panic, separation, mention of death.
“M-man, it's strange being back in the Underwhere after so long. Sure brings back memories, eh bro?” the green capped man lightly nudged his distracted brother and gave him a weak smile.
It was really strange. They knew their time was limited, they dreaded it as time grew near, but now that death had ironically taken them both at the same time they weren't as scared. The knowledge of where they were to end up and that they would still be together must have helped ease their nerves, plus they were thankful that their passings were calm and peaceful.
The brothers held hands as they walked down the hall and passed D-men who barely spared them a glance to get to the queen of this realm. Queen Jaydes. She stood tall as she patiently watched them approach her and give her respectful bows.
“My condolences, Mario and Luigi.”
“We hope you and Grambi have been well, Jaydes” Mario politely said after rising back up to look up at her.
“We are and it is thanks to you two and your friends that we are allowed to continue doing so. We also thank you for not letting our daughter's sacrifice be in vain” the queen responded, giving the two a small smile of gratitude.
Mario offered his own smile but it wavered a bit. He took a deep breath and asked her, “Do you perhaps know how Peach has been? I hope she is being treated well in the Upthere. I really miss her…”.
Peach's passing hadn't been easy for anyone in the kingdom, especially Mario. He missed her more and more each day he lived and though he may not be able to join her in the afterlife, he hoped her spirit was happy as a Nimbi.
“She's doing well, last I heard from Grambi. She really misses you.” answered Jaydes, receiving a thank you nod from Mario.
“Now, we must delay no further. Your judgements shall be revealed” announced the queen of the Underwhere, taking a bit of time to go over their actions and deeds in life.
Mario held Luigi's hand tightly and shut his eyes as he waited. He really wanted to enjoy Upthere with Peach and Luigi, but he wasn't going to hold his breath. Sure, the two had saved countless lives and suffered many dangers during their adventures but that could not lessen their crimes. They had ended up here when they fought Count Bleck back then, unlike Peach, and they could not deny their fates. At least he still had Luigi with him. Nothing could harm them as long as they're together.
Finally, Queen Jaydes gave her judgement. “Fate has smiled upon you, Mario. Peach will be delighted to hear the news of your arrival to Upthere”.
He opened his eyes and stared at her in utter shock. Was this…was this true? Was he truly going to the Upthere? Was he going to see Peach again? He couldn't believe it.
He laughed happily and thanked Jaydes profusely, turning to Luigi and grabbing his shoulders in pure joy.
“D-did you hear that Lu?! We're going to the Upthere! We're all going to be together again! We'll be Nimbis like Peach and live on clouds! Isn't that amazing?!”
Luigi didn't show the same excitement as Mario did, only giving him a small smile. It was a happy smile, of course, but it was also sad. This confused Mario and brought his own excitement down.
“Luigi? Hey, what's wrong? Aren't you excited?” Mario asked his younger twin softly, growing more confused when Luigi took a step away from him.
“Tell Peach I said hi when you get there, ok bro…?” was all Luigi said.
It finally clicked at that moment. Jaydes had only said Mario's name, not both of their names. But why?! He had done as many crimes so why was only Luigi getting the short end of the stick?!
“What's going on? Why can't you come along?! How is this fair?!” Mario asked in a panic, looking between Luigi and Jaydes for an explanation which the queen provided.
“Your brother really loves you, Mario. He was adamant that you deserved to be in a better place than this. He made a deal with me to ensure your place in the Upthere while he stays here in the Underwhere with me”, explained Jaydes.
“Don't worry, bro, I'll be fine. Besides, I'm glad I can still be useful by helping Jaydes with the roudier souls…” Luigi tried to calm Mario's rising panic.
Mario was not willing to listen, “Have you lost your mind?! Do you have any idea who you will be stuck here with all alone?! You can't do this! End the deal, I'm not going anywhere without you!” shouted Mario.
This declare was taken as a sign that the D-men would need to step in, getting ahold of Mario and started dragging him away to the gates of the Upthere. Mario struggled against them and demanded they let him go, pleading with Luigi to not leave him and begging for Jaydes to not do this.
All Jaydes did was bow her head in guilt as Luigi tried to keep a smile on his face despite the tears running down his face. Mario could feel feathery wings form on his back the closer he was dragged to the gates but his focus was on his brother and his transformation into a Shayde. He started crying, his begging growing louder and more desperate as struggled against the D-men and reached out towards Luigi.
“Enjoy Upthere for the both of us, bro. I love you…” Luigi softly said, his voice quivering from trying to keep his sobs in.
The gates opened and Mario was forcefully thrown past them.
“LUIGI!!!”
--------
So um... I don't know, I remembered an old comic dub on YouTube and thought of this. Hope you enjoyed!
@istadris @itsavee4117 @vulpixfairy1985 @billinshoes @silenzahra
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hiii! could you write an mcyt x reader that's like, going outside at night? idrk how to explain it lol, like going to the woods at night or somethin? tyyyy!!! :3
yeah sure!! hopefully I understood this correctly ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy!
MCYT ; walk in the dark
includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, tubbo, badlinu, nihachu & quackity
warnings ; language, mentions of drunk tubbo
masterlist
TOMMYINNIT
he's halfway scared of the dark, mostly because he doesn't know what's in it
he'll happily go on walks with you
"to protect you" though (we know that's a lie, he's the one who needs protecting)
he finds the chilly air and the gust against the trees kinda therapeutic
he understands why you go out so late lol
he'll often share an airpod with you so you can listen to some nice music as well
all fun and games til sabrina carpenter starts playing and you start singing along to feather and espresso
TUBBO
nah he's gotta be drunk to go out in the woods that late at night
scared of bears and/or people because it's a public space
he just doesn't wanna get eaten today, he has a tubbothon to stream man
he streams those walks with you when it's during those streams though ofc
the whole chats trying to gaslight him into thinking there's a bear 💀
you often shittily sing some corny 2000s songs and throw around sticks and rocks
RANBOO
didn't get the hype at first but will happily jump up from whatever they're doing to go with you
so therapeutic, they like the quietness and having a flashlight to guide their path like a horror game where probably nothing will happen
you often take flash selfies and post them when you're out as well
sometimes you edit them before posting and add something to the background, super subtle but noticeable to make the commenters freak out lol
they started believing it too much so you drew a ghost behind you to taunt them lol
loves the internet break though, he loves breathing the fresh air and feeling nature at his fingers
FREDDIE BADLINU
bros got a tent and everything just in case /j
also enjoys the internet break and spending quiet time with you as you walk
he collects rocks that he thinks look cool?
he finds a giant stick every time and uses it like a walking stick
30yo dad core
you also share airpods to listen to music
no judging if there's any crying, get those emotions out dude
counts all the squirrels he sees roaming around lol
"that's like the eighth one I've seen in the past five minutes!"
NIKI NIHACHU
finds it super therapeutic
straight up leaves her phone at her desk
flashlight and granola bar only
she always finds some cute little critter to look at before it runs away
plucks literally any flower and hands you a bouquet of them on the way home
"Oh my God, feel this rock!"
"my tryphobia is aching right now"
ALEX QUACKITY
fake hates it
he likes the music but he doesn't like fearing what's in the dark
"what if there's a bear??? or a raccoon!?"
"what's a raccoon gonna do to you?"
"eat me!"
likes touching everything he can get his hands on
also finds it nice and kinda thereupitic
opens up about his day and everything
peak hugging time
lots of selfies
he found a dead possum once and almost threw up
#lowkeyrobin#mcyt x reader#mcyt preferences#mcyt oneshot#tommyinnit x reader#tubbo x reader#ranboo x reader#freddie badlinu x reader#badlinu x reader#niki nihachu x reader#nihachu x reader#alex quackity x reader#quackity x reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader#they/them reader#gn! reader
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oh no, I love them
(super quick doodles done between other stuff, there will be better things later I promise :')
#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#spoilers spoilers spoilers#me when the shroudparents walk in: what. why. what is this.#me thirty seconds late: never mind they are AMAZING#i mean yeah idia kind of offhandedly mentioned it way back when#in episode 6 when he was like 'my parents have to wear special equipment to deal with the debilitating effects of the curse'#'and to hide their identities as a french electronic synth-pop duo' I GUESS#no no it's okay. mrs shroud you are kind of insane and i love you#GROUP HUG EVERYBODY!!!!!#mr shroud you put up with a lot but somebody's gotta remember to do the paperwork#daft punk bert and ernie is the best possible dynamic for them#and THEY LOVE THEIR ROBOT SON#i'm so happy for ortho#(hovering around the subject of dreamworld ortho. ...we'll get to that)#man though now that i know what they're like#when idia busted in to show them how he built himself a replacement brother#mrs shroud was probably just like 'this is exactly what i would have done. let mama give you some pointers on joint mechanics'#i know i'm in the minority on genuinely unironically loving overblot idia#(YES he's weird but it's a weird i'm into!)#i am DELIGHTED by the design parallels. he looks like his dad!#but with his mom's ears!#ah it's so good
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