#there all bad people trying to help a good person out.
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Damian is de-aged to a baby and lost in Gotham. A magic user hit him with some kind of spell. His legs don’t work as well and he has trouble walking. That’s when a man appears and squats down with a tilt of his head.
“Yea, you are definitely not supposed to be out here, little guy.”
Damian glares at the man, early twenties, stubble along his jaw, ragged clothes, and dark bags under his eyes.
The man turns his head to look at the brick wall.
“Are you sure?”
And now he was talking to a wall. Curses. Of course he would be found by a crazy person.
The man suddenly hangs his head with a deep sigh. He regains himself quickly and stands. Moving closer to put his hands under Damian arms to lift him to perch on his hip.
Damian squirms to get down but refuses to make a sound. The last time he opened his mouth like this it was a pathetic baby sound. He couldn’t let this man see him like this.
“Looks like you’re coming home with me, little guy. I can tell you’ve got some spirit in you. Good, you’ll need it.”
Not ominous at all.
Damian stays with the man, mostly because he couldn’t physically drive a car, but also because he was almost always with him. The man would talk to air at the most random times. Obviously a schizophrenic. But Damian had to admit this man, Danny he comes to find out through a neighbor baby talking at him, has been genuinely trying to take care of him and take care of him well. Well, to the best of his abilities anyway. 
He feeds him organic purées that don’t taste half bad, except the carrots, that one was unacceptable. Danny cleans him regularly despite his crappy apartment and makes sure he is dressed appropriately for the weather. He makes an effort to take him out to the park to play in the sandbox or just walk around discovering ‘new’ things.
Damian doesn’t need a parent, he outgrew the concept when he was five and technically he already had one, but he could tell Danny would make an excellent father. Some mistakes can be overlooked compared to the effort he was putting in.
The only concerning thing was the talking to thin air. It took Damian an embarrassing amount of time to figure out the reason Danny was visiting all these random people and the graveyard. (Sometimes he will set Damian down to ‘play’ in the grass at the cemetery. It was quite odd.)
He was talking to ghosts. It wasn’t thin air or imaginary friends, no it was actually dead people. The reason Damian actually believes this is for two reasons.
One, Danny shows true results. Damian observes closely whenever they visit a ‘client’ and Danny always has accurate information despite never looking up or researching anything going in.
Two, he never calls himself a medium or psychic. He doesn’t boast about his ability to see ghosts. He does what he does to help the ghosts move on to the other side. Closure is what Danny always says. Closure for the family and the victim. In Gotham, there are a lot of victims.
Damian adjusts to his new life with Danny. It’s been five months and he’s getting used to being small and vulnerable. He’s allowed to be messy and whiny and childish. Danny never scolds him like Mother did. The man has never hit him or raised his voice at him and never expects anything from him. He encourages his progression to speak and walk, but doesn’t expect the best out of him.
It’s… nice. A good break if anything.
They are at the park when one of the bats spot him and pauses. Danny is blowing bubbles into the air and Damian tries to pop as many as he can. It’s a silly game with no clear rules, but Damian finds it entertaining nonetheless.
“Hi there! Is he yours?”
Dick Grayson wears a bright smile, but Damian can see the tightness around his eyes.
“Huh? Oh, yea, this is Damian,” Danny answers.
He had written it with the wooden blocks Danny had given him one week in. Danny took one look at the name on the ground, laughed loudly and ran with it.
“Do you mind if I say hi? He’s so cute.”
Danny looks puzzled by the request but ends up shrugging his shoulders, not seeing a problem with letting a stranger get close to Damian. (Damian knew Danny’s intense eyes were watching Dick’s every move. He was very protective like that.)
“Sure.”
Dick squats down to search Damian’s green eyes. Damian stares back just as intensely.
“Hey there, Damian. My name is Dick.”
Damian gives him a flat look at Dick’s terrible introduction.
“Grayson.”
Although with his little baby teeth not fully in it sounds more like ‘way-shah’.
Relief flashes across Dick’s face and he gives Damian a reassuring smile. It’s not as reassuring at he thinks it is. It promises to bring him home and restore him to his original age. Damian doesn’t know if that’s what he wants anymore.
Dick stands and gives Danny some imaginary excuse to leave quickly. Damian watches him go and so does Danny.
“Funny guy, huh Dami?”
Damian doesn’t respond and Danny notices his change in mood.
“Come here, little guy.”
He knows what Danny is going to do and willingly goes. He is pulled up into the man’s lap and held between two surprisingly muscular arms. Danny’s hugs are nice and warm. They aren’t too tight like Dick’s nor are they stiff like Bruce’s. He never thought he could enjoy human contact, but Danny has been showing him things about himself he didn’t ever know. Turns out he does like hugs and playing airplane and when Danny runs his fingers through his hair when he’s really sleepy.
“Let’s go home a little early today, huh? I’ll make spaghetti and you can be as messy as you want,” Danny promises.
Damian hums. Yes, that sounds nice.
That night Batman comes in through the window. Damian is waiting.
“Damian,” Batman whispers.
“Bah-mun.”
The flat, unamused stare is what gives him away.
Batman lets out a breath silently and reaches into the crib Danny had gotten him.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Batman jerks into action, twisting to face Danny who had appeared suddenly. The door behind him is still closed.
Batman stays quiet, silently studying the man before him dressed in pajama pants and a worn t-shirt.
Danny tilts his head as he does the same. Damian has never seen the man so serious. He silently worries for the man. He didn’t want him getting hurt to unnecessarily protecting him from his father.
“I’d have to break your arm if you tried to do what it looks like you’re doing.”
Danny says it so plainly. So simple.
Batman straightens.
“He isn’t yours.”
He doesn’t say Damian is his. He doesn’t claim him as his own. Just that Danny shouldn’t have him.
Damian silently agrees because technically he’s right. He doesn’t deserve Danny. He can’t keep playing house like he’s an actual baby. But Damian is also selfish and over the last few months has been taught that it’s okay to ask for things he wants even if it’s not inherently beneficial. The stuffed dog he sleeps with every night is proof of that.
So Damian says nothing.
“He is now,” Danny answers simply like there was no other answer to such a statement.
“He needs to go back to where he belongs.”
“Over my dead body,” is the immediate response.
They stare each other down until Danny scoffs.
“Don’t think I’m not petty enough to fight you, Batman. I’ll fight anyone who wants to take him from me. Damian is mine.”
When Batman tries to forcibly take him, he ends up with a concussion, a blood nose, and two broken arms. Red Robin finds him in a dumpster the next morning.
The story continues with Damian learning how to be a child his age, Danny protecting him and doting on his brilliant son, and the Batfam’s frequent failed attempts to kidnap Damian back to them.
#dp x dc#danny phantom#danny fenton#dc x dp#dp x dc crossover#damian wayne#bruce wayne#batman#Damian is learning to be a kid#and enjoying it#Danny finds a lone baby in an alley#the ghost that lead him there says he was left there#Danny: okay#guess I’m a dad now#Bruce is in for a rude awakening
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Hi!!! Sorry if you've been asked this before but is it possible for you to summarize the Bonus Links' personalities? Just asking because I'd like to get a general idea, apologies if this is too much of a pain to answer 😭🫶🏻
hey! luckily I already wrote up character intros a while back that I never posted to tumblr lol, so I'll go ahead and post them now! under the cut since this is mega long lol
Loft
Pronouns: he/him
Game: Skyward Sword
Age: 22
Height: 5’3”
Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally
Personality: World’s Nicest Man Pushed To His Limit. It’s his nature to be light-hearted and easy-going, but ever since the events of Skyward Sword he’s been unable to let the implications of Demise’s curse and Zelda’s connection to Hylia go. He’s usually mild, but he’s got a lot of suppressed anger in him that comes out at inopportune times. He tends towards being optimistic, but has lately been caught in a depressive spiral. As a result of all these conflicting emotions, he hasn’t felt like himself in a while. Before everything, he could have been described as a little bit lazy, but these days a better word would be lethargic. He’s got a mischievous and thrill-seeking streak that often surprises people. He knows he’s powerful, but he’s lost some confidence in the years since his quest. He’s wracked with guilt about the way everything ended.
Slate
Pronouns: tends to use he/him, but really any
Game: Breath of the Wild (ignoring TotK for now)
Age: 21
Height: 5’0”
Communication: Mainly signs, speaks occasionally
Personality: The Reviews Are In: Friendly Guy, Vaguely Off-Putting. He knows he’s not pre-calamity Link, but he’s not exactly sure what he is instead. He’s accepted this about himself, and it grinds his gears that other people refuse to. He’s not sure what to do with all these memories inside him that aren’t his, and that he feels nothing for. He’s become more expressive, but when he’s upset his face goes entirely blank. He has a tendency to be distracted, blunt, intense, impulsive, somewhat abrasive. But he’s not unkind, and can even be outright friendly. He’d offer his help to anyone who asks, and he makes it a point to know everyone in Hyrule. He’s happiest out in nature, and doesn’t mind the solitude. He only ever lies by omission, and otherwise says exactly what he means. There’s something a little otherworldly about him.
Mask
Pronouns: he/him
Game: Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask
Age: 15
Height: 5’2½”
Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally
Personality: Local Teen Needs Hug So Bad, Will Bite If You Try. He’s prickly, hot-tempered, moody. He’ll pick verbal battles he probably shouldn’t. Everything is a touchy subject. But he’s developed this behavior as a coping mechanism. He’s kind by nature, and it takes effort to lash out. The person he is with Malon- gentle, more soft-spoken, with a good sense of humor and a love for harmless mischief- is a lot closer to the person he’s comfortable being. He’s a scared kid. He feels out of place, both mature and immature, of this world and not. Sometimes, he gets scrambled between Termina, the Hyrule he’s in now, the Hyrule he left behind, and the Hyrule of the war. He has a lot of resentment for both the gods and the royal family, and all he wants is to be left alone.
Wolf
Pronouns: he/him
Game: Twilight Princess
Age: 23
Height: 5’5”
Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally
Personality: Thank God I’m A Country Boy. He’s a gentle soul, probably the gentlest out of all of them. He likes to be useful, and he has made being the problem solver of Ordon Village part of his identity. He’s a bit of a mother hen and likes to take care of people. Midna was good at bringing out a little bit of attitude and snark in him. He’s got a bad case of Resting Bitch Face, but he’s not an angry person. However, he’s had a hard time adjusting to life back in Ordon. He’s usually even-tempered, but lately he’s been irritable and easier to anger. He feels isolated by his experiences, and has been avoiding most of the villagers, including his loved ones, even though it makes him lonely. Mostly he just doesn’t want to take it out on them, but it’s also about his pride. He enjoys the company of animals far more these days. He wants a quiet life, and has been avoiding Zelda's attempts to make "Hero" a political role for him to fill.
War
Pronouns: he/him
Game: Hyrule Warriors
Age: 25
Height: 5’7”
Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally, had Proxi speak for him at one point during the war
Personality: Link “This Is My Jaeger, I Make The Tactical Decisions” Faron. He comes across as a very charming young man, witty, helpful, pleasant in conversation, well-adjusted. In reality, he is constantly doing complicated political 4D chess in his mind at all times, even when it’s not necessary. Many years of being subject to the whims of the Royal Court and pressure to be a perfect symbol have poisoned him: he’s become calculating, manipulative, superficially polite, two-faced. He has to be the one holding all the cards, considering all the variables, fixing all of the problems, because he can’t trust anyone else. If you were to strip him of all pretense, he'd actually be a dry, resigned person, perpetually annoyed with everyone around him. He values status and reputation, and he wants more power than he has. His appearance is important to him because he knows his pretty face is an asset. He holds deep respect for the gods and the mantle of the hero. He has a strong sense of duty, but one that often leads him to justify terrible actions. The ends justify the means.
Mirror
Pronouns: he/they
Game: A Link Between Worlds, Triforce Heroes
Age: 22
Height: 5’1”
Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally
Personality: Local Link Doing Pretty Well Actually, All Things Considered. He’s just living his life, having a mostly pleasant time. He used to be quiet and reserved when he was younger, but has come out of his shell in a big way. He’s a bit vain, and fond of doing things with a dramatic flair. They like to have an audience, they like to make people laugh, they like to have your attention. Rather than being poisoned by court politics, he thrives in them. He doesn’t pretend to be charming, he just is. They can be on the arrogant side. He’s interested in fashion and art more than fighting these days, but still keeps his skills up to date. He pretends the scar on his face doesn’t bother him, but it does. He’s particularly obsessed with the legend of the hero before him.
Mage
Pronouns: he/him
Game: A Link to the Past, Link’s Awakening, Oracle of Ages, Oracle of Seasons
Age: 32
Height: 5’3”
Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally
Personality: Weird Uncle You Just Stopped Hearing From One Day. He’s a difficult guy to get a read on. He comes off as deeply serious, imposing, no-nonsense. He is actually full of nonsense. The fact that no one can tell what is and isn’t part of the bit is part of the bit. He mostly ignores his own problems by dedicating his life to solving other people’s problems. He wanders from place to place, helping people and becoming a bit of a larger than life folk legend in his own right in the process. He’s leaned into learning magic more than the sword, and has built up quite the arsenal of spells. He doesn’t speak often, and is content to let other Links lead despite being the oldest and the most experienced. He’s difficult to rile and even more difficult to get a straight answer out of.
Spirit
Pronouns: he/him
Game: Spirit Tracks
Age: 16
Height: 4’11”
Communication: Mainly signs, speaks occasionally. He has a stutter when he speaks.
Personality: Wants To Be Anywhere But Here, Preferably On A Train. He’s fully given up swordfighting, and basically just wants to go back to being a Royal Engineer like nothing happened. He has no interest in gaining any kind of attention, authority, or power from the mantle of the hero, and would actually prefer that everyone stop looking at him. He’s quiet, sweet-natured and generally non-confrontational, but he’s not afraid to stand up for himself when pushed. It’s just that it’s easier to let Zelda stand up for him instead. He’s pretty mature and in-tune with his emotions for a 16 year old. Seeing spirits everywhere, he has a lot of private thoughts about grief and death that he doesn’t share with anyone. The gears in his brain are constantly turning, and once he’s stuck on an idea, it’s all he can focus on. He often doesn’t give himself enough credit for how capable he is. Please let him tell you about trains.
Mini
Pronouns: he/him
Game: Minish Cap
Age: 14
Height: 4’3”
Communication: Only signs, mute.
Personality: He’s Just A Little Guy, Only 2 Pixels Tall. Mini doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do. He’s not very expressive in the face, and it can be hard to tell what he’s thinking or feeling. Mostly, he’s a little rascal. He likes to root around in the garbage and build strange little machines from what he finds. He spends a lot of time hanging out with the Minish, moreso than humans. It’s a little bit of an escapism thing. He hasn’t really processed what it meant to become the hero so young, and is actively trying to avoid doing so. He’s very independent, and simply doesn’t compute attempts to coddle him.
Wake
Pronouns: he/him
Game: Wind Waker, Phantom hourglass
Age: 20
Height: 5’5”
Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally
Personality: Everyone’s Favorite Cousin At The Family Function. He’s a fun person to be around. Friendly, energetic, laid back, good-natured, outgoing. He is always up for a good shenanigan. But he can get serious when he needs to, and often plays the important role of mediator in group dynamics. He’s the glue that holds the team together! He seems to take everything in stride, and presents himself as unbothered by the things that have happened to him. Whether that’s actually true, or he’s just compartmentalized everything too well remains to be seen. He has a strange way of being very open, and yet a closed book at the same time. He’s sentimental, and family is important to him
#hope this helps#and that my summaries aren't too rambly#long post#astronomically so probably#all links#bonus lore#bonuslinksdotjpg
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what do you think stalker!anis body count is?
i can’t work out if he’s had a “fuck everything that walks” phase or not
I’ve thought about this a lot actually, cause I’ve also had trouble deciding that lmao. I originally intended for stalker!ani to have BPD, but as he developed as a character I think antisocial personality disorder fits him much, much better. Both disorders experience hypersexuality.
In this essay I will…
Stalker!Anakin has never had a girlfriend before reader. Unfortunately he was painfully awkward and strange during his elementary school years:
Exhibit A: tying nettles together with worms (a beautiful bouquet if you ask me) and giving them to a girl he thought was pretty.
Exhibit B: staring and unapologetically eavesdropping on any conversation.
Exhibit C: starting conversations with “I am Anakin Skywalker, I am seven years old and I like to collect Hot Wheels. Do you like to collect Hot Wheels?” (Bc his therapist said he should try to be ‘relatable’ by finding people with similar interests. How is he expected to do that unless he systematically goes through his entire class list and initiates/interviews his classmates??)
Moving onto his middle school years were even worse bc he found out that girls are hot and hot girls make him horny. Everyone remembered him as the weird kid, told the other sixth graders and ruined his chances of winning people over with his new, carefully crafted personality/mask.
So when he asked his crush to the homecoming dance he bought real flowers (sans worms!!), and his mom helped him find a cute sign on Pinterest to copy… She refused the flowers and said “ew”, thinking there were prob bugs in it (she’d heard the gossip). Anakin unwrapped the flowers and shook them out to prove they were indeed wormless, made a joke and then the girl reconsidered her refusal and decided ‘hey maybe he’s not so bad, all kids are weird anyway so he’s probably fine now’.
Turns out he was in fact trying to be fine & normal. But ended up in a ‘Carrie at prom’ situation at the homecoming dance bc the guy who also liked Anakin’s date was there. Anakin ended up with a suspension and the other guy ended up with the girl.
Then the summer of 7th grade he wacked a grown man with a table.
That didn’t bode well for his highschool conquests of course! So he got his rocks off with the occasional use of the good ol’ ‘hide in the bushes with binoculars and hope Becky from Algebra changes in front of her window again’
Anakin got his first job at the Hot Topic when he was 17. This is where he tried out everything he’d learned over the years and he realized he was actually very decent at speaking to girls as long as he kept up his masked personality. Anakin stayed a virgin until a pretty girl with a nose ring (she worked at Claire’s, he was getting his ear pierced) complimented his Suicidal Tendencies t-shirt and he smooth talked his way into getting her in his car after his shift. Then… continued to do that for a while, strictly fucking. She thought it was strange that he never really wanted to talk before or after.
He was just trying to perfect his sex game and she was just a body. She wasn’t his dream gal, so she was perfect for making mistakes and learning from them. He didn’t have to worry about appearances or properly apologizing for accidentally not doing super great at something, he could just move on and keep going. After all, she was just a body to practice on.
Unfortunately for Anakin he had a brand new court appointed therapist at the time who didn’t think promiscuity was good for the healing and reconditioning process (it wasn’t).
So Anakin put a stop to fuckin’ the girl from Claire’s. He was very confused that she was so upset when he just completely ignored her. The next time they both worked, she waited at his truck like usual and he walked right past her and got in his truck, locked the door and backed out of the parking spot without waiting for her to move (she was fine just really mad).
Claire’s girl confronted him about it, thinking she’d done something to upset him and asked if that was his way of breaking up with her. Anakin’s like??? Break up?? We were never dating!!?? (This is how he found out that when you fuck someone weekly for over four months they will more than likely form an emotional attachment)
To avoid a repeat of that incident when he moved to the city for college (he dropped out obvi), he got a job as a bartender for the sole purpose of people watching for research and practicing being a normal dude. Being a normal dude includes learning how to pick up chicks, so I think he probably took a girl home once or twice a month just to keep sharp on his pretending and fucking skills so he’d be on his best game when he found the right girl.
So in conclusion, yes he did have a ‘fuck everything that walks’ phase. Just not for the sex. For research.
me reading the DSM-5 and diagnosing him. [im a doctor you can trust me]
Tag List:
@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi i @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker r @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @hopesworlld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco @demieyesore @hemmoxloser @ahano
#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker x reader#star wars anakin#anakin smut#anakin x reader#anakin x you#star wars#sw anakin#darth vader#darth vader smut#darth vader x you#darth vader x reader#anakin fanfiction#anakin skywalker x you#anakin skywalker x reader smut#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen#james kelly x you#james kelly#stalker!anakin
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heyy im lwk dying for like a bsf jungwon thing rn… like maybe the border between bsfs and smth more is blurred.. u feel me
What Are We? ┃Y.JW
jungwon x reader
yn has all sorts of feelings for jungwon, but can't differentiate between platonic and romantic.
fluff! yn does jungwon's makeup, one kiss, no confession, questioning their relationship.
wdct: 1.1k
I'm usually not very good at vague relationships, but I think this is like the line between being bffs and being bf and gf. either way thnx for the request 💚
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Third Person POV~
For as long as you can remember, you've been friends with Jungwon. He's always been an important person in your life. So much so that you can't remember life without him or even imagine life without him.
He feels the same, you guys are attached at the hip and nothing could ever sever your connection.
Everyday is spent the same way. You guys meet up at school, and you have almost all your classes together. You always sit beside each other too, so people are convinced you two are secretly dating.
Every accusation is met with a simple "I'd never date him.." or a blatant "We're just friends." but sometimes you even question your closeness to the boy.
"Jungwon, are you coming over after school?" You ask, leaning against your locker as he goes through his. He closes it after grabbing his needed book. "I don't know.. My mom says she'll ground me if I don't study."
"We can study at my house." You pout and he smiles, pinching your cheek. "We both know that we don't get anything done when we study together. You'll just have to miss me today.."
The rest of the day, you're bored.. It's like being with Jungwon so much makes you blind to how little friends you actually have. He's always been everything for you...
Surprisingly, he comes to your house anyway after studying for a couple hours at home, and you immediately get so excited.
"Hey, remember how you still owe me for the homework I let you copy." You remind as he sighs. "What do you want?.. Wanna use me as a makeup dummy again?" He asks as you nod, getting off your bed and pulling him to sit on the stool at your vanity.
"I wanna try a makeup look for school tomorrow.. If it looks bad on you I won't do it.. If it looks good I'll wear it to school." You explain as he nodded. "Okay, just get it over with."
You start on his makeup, quickly realizing that your hands aren't as steady when you aren't sitting down. He notices and simply pats his lap. "Come on.." You're hesitant at first, but then you straddle his lap, focusing on doing his makeup.
Jungwon is forced to stare at you, your eyes, lips.. The way your hair frames your face is perfect too.. He loves being around you..
"You're making me nervous.. Stop staring." You blush, playfully slapping his chest as he laughs. "Sorry.. I was just admiring you.."
Your heart beats slightly faster at his words, cheeks flushing a deeper pink as you tried to ignore him. He can feel you shifting every second or so to keep yourself from sliding off his lap, so he puts his hands on your hips, trying to keep himself from reacting. You tense at the action.
"What are you doing?.." You ask as he chuckles nervously. "Oh, uh.. You were moving a lot and I figured it's because you were sliding off.. I just wanted to keep you still.." You simply nod, trying to ignore the slight fluttering feeling in your abdomen.
You're close to finishing Jungwon's makeup, starting on the lips, you sharpen your lip liner, cupping his jaw as you tug him closer, his face only a few inches from yours.
He decides to close his eyes to make it less awkward, but it only gets your imagination running. You're thinking of things you shouldn't be thinking of, things that you don't usually think about your best friend, but you can't help it. Sometimes it gets confusing, your relationship with Jungwon.
You didn't realize you had zoned out until Jungwon squeezed your hips. "You okay?.." He asks as you nod. "Sorry.. I was thinking about a different lip liner.."
"Did you wanna grab it?" He questions as you shake your head. "No this one is fine.." You cup his jaw again, leaning closer as you begin to line his lips. You can feel his chest rise and fall.. You can feel his hands grow slightly tighter on your hips.. You can feel his heart beat, and it's louder than your own.
You're wondering if he's thinking the same way you're thinking.. Feeling the way you're feeling.. But then again, you don't know how you feel.. Jungwon is your best friend.. You've never seen him as more than that, but you also can't live without him.. You miss him when he's away, and you can't go a day without at least calling or texting him when you don't get to see him.
The two of you can cuddle and hold hands shamelessly, give each other friendly kisses on the cheek and sometimes on the lips depending on the situation, and you know that he's your soulmate.
But then there's this anxiety that keeps your feelings in a complex.. Does Jungwon think of you the same way you think of him?.. You can't even sort out your thoughts towards Jungwon, but you hope he at least cherishes you the same way do cherish him.
You finish lining his lips, filling it in with one of your lip glosses as you smile. "All done.." You show him his reflection in the mirror and he smiles. "You should definitely do your makeup like this tomorrow.."
You nod in agreement, grabbing your makeup wipes as you begin to wipe the makeup off of his face. You start with the base, then you take off the makeup around his eyes, being sure to be gentle. Finally you clean off his lips.
"I can still taste the lip gloss.." He chuckles as you smile. "I don't remember it having a flavor." You mumble as he shrugs, pressing a short kiss to your lips. "Doesn't it taste like strawberries?.."
You're too stunned to even think about the taste so you just nod. That's not the first time you've kissed Jungwon, but why did it erupt such emotion in you this time?.. Why did it make you mad to imagine him being this close with and kissing a different girl?
You finish cleaning off his makeup. Letting him wash his face and use your moisturizer before the two of you layed down on your bed, simply staring at the ceiling.
"Won?.." You call as he hums, turning to glance at you. "What are we?..." He goes quiet after your question, but then he grabs your hand, squeezing it gently. "We're us.. And we'll continue to be us for the rest of our lives together.."
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#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen soft headcanons#enhypen soft hours#enha soft hours#enha soft thoughts#jungwon soft hours#jungwon soft thoughts#jungwon imagines#jungwon fic#yang jungwon#enhypen jungwon#jungwon enhypen
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I firmly believe that Kabru is autistic but masks so hard that he’s convinced himself and (almost) everyone around him that he’s neurotypical.
That man’s special interest is people and how they work, but he just thinks it’s him Being So Good At Socializing — like he doesn’t spend 95% of his time people watching and adjusting his personality in response to the traits he witnesses and obsessing over the intricacies of human interaction while mapping an ever growing relationship chart in his head. For fun. He even admits it in the manga!
Like, look at him!!!
It’s such a shame that — because he’s the narrative foil to Laios and his interest is generally considered more “socially acceptable” in both their world and our own — more people don’t realize this about him. He’s constantly misinterpreted as a horribly manipulative person who only acts the way he does to use the people around him, when that’s explicitly shown to not be the case at all. Kabru is naturally empathetic and is almost always thinking about other people, regardless of whether or not they’re right there with him or a thousand miles away.
I mean, his most defining motivation is his desire to do everything he can to avoid another tragedy like the one at Utaya. Someone who doesn’t care wouldn’t have a goal like that, and they most certainly wouldn’t go about it the way he does. He’s constantly working to help people who can help everyone else and tries so hard to make sure that anyone who seems like a threat is actually someone he needs to worry about before doing anything about it. His supposed aversion to Laios is only because of the ridiculous trolley problem he’s set up in his own head.
Outside of that, he (rather justifiably) hates monsters but is desperate to understand Laios’ love for them and his apparently most selfish goal in getting close to the guy was literally just to become friends with him.
When he’s interacting with the canaries and they imply that they’re going to take him and all of his friends to the West, his first thought is of Rin and how much she’d hate to be stuck in the place that gave her so many bad memories.
He helps Kuro learn Common when Mickbell is asleep and firmly looks forward to the day that the half-foot and Kuro can communicate properly so that their relationship can get properly started without any miscommunication.
And he understands Mithrun with only a handful of weeks AT BEST interacting with him, getting enraged when the elf seems to give up and immediately trying to help him find a new motivation for life.
I’m excited just thinking about the day that Kabru starts unmasking more and more around his friends — both new and old — because if being with my current friend group has taught me anything, it’s that hanging out with anyone so unabashedly themselves is bound to make you more comfortable with yourself too. It’s part of the reason why I like Labru so much! There’s something nice about imagining them hanging out in the throne room or laying in the grass outside and talking for hours on end about their special interests. They might not strictly understand what the other finds so fascinating about monsters or people, but they can grasp that shared feeling of love.
They probably influence each other in really good ways too, with Kabru helping Laios figure out what people are thinking even when it doesn’t make sense or Laios helping Kabru understand that not everyone and everything needs to be analyzed a thousand times over. They both get to learn that there are people like them and people who will love them without them ever having to change a thing about themselves. They deserve to know that they’re fine the way they are.
#I have so many more thoughts about these two#like how Laios is actually the one who couldn’t really care about people outside of his immediate friends and family#that his love is the one that would burn down the world if it meant the people he cared about got to be as safe and happy as they should be#always as themselves#never as the corrupted versions of them in their nightmares or by the winged lions distortions#which is how Kabru would learn to be more selfish and needy#encouraged to act on his own desires and help other people at the same time#these two have ruined me#especially Kabru#because I’m predictable and my other two favorite characters are Tachihara Michizou and Nara Shikamaru#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi kabru#kabru of utaya#dungeon meshi laios#laios touden#dungeon meshi rin#rinsha fana#dungeon meshi mickbell#mickbell#dungeon meshi kuro#kuro#dungeon meshi mithrun#mithrun#labru
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Hi!
I saw the post about how to filter out terfs from reblogs on here and I had one loosely related question to what was said in the post.
The part about reeducating people who believe that queer is a slur.
What's the metric on that, who's the person you mean by that? Suspected terfs? Anyone who has a problem with it at all?
And what re-education is the case there, is it making the person aware of the connection to the phrase? Or something else?
Thanks!
Gotta admit, the tone of this ask doesn't seem like it's entirely in good faith, but I'm going to treat it like it is, just in case you don't know that this ask kind of comes across like a none-too-subtle accusation.
A lot of younger people don't know that 'queer is a slur' is TERF-sponsored propaganda meant as a tool to help break the community apart. A lot of them, in my experience, are fucking horrified to realize that they were repeating something that got astroTERFed into the community as an attempt to make people declare 'what kind of queer you are' so that people can pick the identities of others apart: oh, you're not a lesbian because transmascs can't be lesbians. oh, you're not X because [thing I made up], etc. It's been my experience that a lot of people who aren't aware that this is something that's been actively pursued, even if they don't like the word applied to themselves, understand what an important historical and identity word it is to our community. It's also been my experience that most of the people saying 'queer is a slur' are doing so in good faith because they are trying to help and protect their community, so when you say 'hey, did you know,' you can have a conversation with them, and if they have personal issues with the word as applied to themselves, if they're acting in good faith towards their community, it's pretty easy to find a way through that respects the identities, tastes, traumas and preferences of everybody involved.
I don't believe I used the word 'reeducating,' because 'reeducation' has some mildly negative brainwashing connotations, to put it mildly. I can't find the original post, though, so I can't verify that. Certainly if I used it, that was an error and I won't again. Educating, teaching, explaining, sure, but reeducation carries some serious 'reeducation camp' vibes.
I don't know what else it would be other than making people aware of the active campaign to make queer an untouchably bad word and having a conversation with them. If we're all coming to these things in good faith, what else would it be? :)
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Twists Of Fate
pairing -james potter x fem!reader
summary - a chance reunion at a wedding leads to unexpected sparks between you and james
warnings - shitty ex, james is a danger to everyone around him, fluff
wordcount - 2.2k
You're standing near the edge of the dance floor, nursing a glass of champagne and pretending to be deeply interested in the intricacies of your friend's wedding decor. The fairy lights twinkle overhead, casting a warm glow on the happy couples swirling around you. You try to focus on the joy of the occasion, but your mind keeps drifting back to the events of the past few weeks.
Your ex-boyfriend, the one who decided that your relationship wasn't worth more than a passing fling, is here. And not only is he here, but he's here with a new girl, draped on his arm like the latest fashion accessory. Every time you catch sight of them, your heart twists painfully in your chest.
"Hey, you look great," he says after walking up to you, a smug smile playing on his lips as his new girlfriend giggles beside him. "Too bad things didn't work out between us, huh?"
Before you can formulate a response that doesn't involve throwing your drink in his face, he leans in closer, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. "Listen, I just wanted to say that I hope we can still be friends, you know? It's not like we ended things on bad terms or anything."
You bite back a bitter laugh, nodding along as if his words actually mean something to you. In your opinion, him cheating on you and then blaming his mistake on you left you far from ‘on good terms’. Inside, you're seething with anger and frustration. How dare he waltz in here with his new conquest, acting like he's the picture of decency?
But just as you're about to excuse yourself and find someplace else to drown your sorrows, a voice interrupts.
"Sweetheart, there you are! I've been looking everywhere for you."
You blink in surprise as James Potter, of all people, strides up to you, an easy grin on his face. He slips an arm around your waist, drawing you close. His touch is warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the icy dread pooling in your stomach.
"James?" you murmur, more to yourself than to him.
Of course you remember him from school. Everyone knew of him. You had talked to him once in a while during your time at school, mostly when he found himself interrupting your study sessions with Remus in the library, but since graduating two years ago your paths hadn’t crossed again until right now.
He doesn't miss a beat, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Sorry I'm late, love. Got caught up trying to find a decent tie. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find one that matches your eyes?"
Your eyes fall down to his broad chest on their own accord, and to your surprise, his tie actually happens to match almost perfectly.
Your ex is staring, slack-jawed, clearly not expecting this turn of events. James turns to him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, I don't think we've met. I'm James, her date."
"Date?" your ex echoes, the smugness evaporating from his expression.
"Yes, date," James repeats cheerfully, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You know, the person you bring to events like this to remind you what it's like to have someone who actually appreciates your company. But hey, I get it, it can be confusing for some people."
You can't help but stifle a laugh at the way he says it, his tone so breezy and unbothered. You decide to play along, slipping your arm around his in return.
"Thanks for coming to find me," you say, trying to sound as natural as possible. "I was just about to head back to the dance floor."
James winks at you, his grin widening. "Anything for you, darling."
As he leads you away, you glance back to see your ex still standing there, looking utterly flabbergasted. It's a small victory, but it feels monumental.
"You didn't have to do that," you murmur once you're out of earshot.
James shrugs, his expression softening. "Seemed like you could use a hand. Plus, it’s always fun to mess with someone who clearly deserves it."
You laugh, the tension in your shoulders easing a bit. "Thanks. I owe you one."
"Oh, I plan to collect," he says with a teasing glint in his eye. "But for now, how about a dance? You know, to really sell the whole 'date' thing."
You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. "Alright, Potter. One dance."
As you follow James onto the dance floor, the music envelops you, its lively beat washing away the lingering discomfort from the encounter. James wastes no time in taking the lead, his movements smooth and confident as he guides you through the crowd.
"So," he says, his voice close to your ear as he spins you effortlessly, "how's life been treating you since Hogwarts?"
You can't help but chuckle at his casual demeanor, the tension of the evening melting away with every step. "Oh, you know, the usual. Trying to navigate the treacherous waters of adulting and all that."
James grins, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah, yes, the dreaded adulting. I hear it's a real beast but I wouldn’t know anything about that."
You nod in agreement, your laughter mingling with the music. "Tell me about it. Sometimes I wish I could just go back to worrying about O.W.L.s and Quidditch matches."
"Hey, at least in the wizarding world, adulting comes with the added bonus of using magic without getting into trouble," James quips, twirling you expertly before pulling you back into his arms. "Although, I suppose dealing with an ex at a wedding could be considered a form of dark magic."
You playfully swat at his arm, unable to suppress a grin. "You're terrible, you know that?"
He grins back, his eyes alight with mischief. "Guilty as charged. But hey, at least I'm charmingly terrible."
As the song shifts to a more upbeat tempo, James takes advantage of the moment to unleash his dance moves. Except, instead of smooth and confident, his movements are more like a cross between a flailing Hippogriff and a clumsy first-year attempting a Transfiguration spell.
You can't help but burst into laughter at the sight of him, his arms flapping wildly and his feet stumbling over each other. "Merlin's beard, James! Are you trying to hex the dance floor or something?"
He shoots you a mock offended look, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oi, watch it! I'll have you know, I'm a dance prodigy in the making."
You raise an eyebrow, unable to contain your grin. "Prodigy? More like a disaster waiting to happen."
Undeterred, James continues to dance with reckless abandon, his movements becoming increasingly exaggerated with each passing moment. He spins and twirls, his limbs flying in all directions as if controlled by an unseen force.
"Alright, alright, I admit it," he says between gasps for breath, his cheeks flushed with exertion. "Maybe I'm not the next Fred Astaire, but at least I'm having fun. And getting to see that pretty smile of yours is worth making a fool of myself."
You can't help but feel a warmth spread through you at James's words, his sincerity cutting through the playful banter. Despite his less-than-graceful moves, there's an endearing charm to his earnestness that you can't help but admire.
"Well, in that case," you say with a teasing grin, "I suppose I can forgive your questionable dancing skills."
James grins back, his eyes shining with amusement. "Gee, thanks. I'll try not to let it go to my head."
As the music continues to pulse around you, you find yourself caught up in the moment, dancing with James in a whirlwind of laughter and joy. Together, you move in sync, your steps perfectly imperfect as you twirl and sway to the rhythm of the music.
Just as you're both getting into the swing of things, James's exuberant movements nearly send him crashing into an elderly witch who's been watching the dance floor with a bemused expression. You gasp, reaching out instinctively to steady her, but James, ever the smooth talker, beats you to it.
"Whoa there, almost lost my footing!" James exclaims, flashing the woman his most charming smile. "But don't worry, I'm as steady as a Hippogriff on a broomstick."
The elderly witch chuckles, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, steady or not, you certainly know how to liven up a party, young man."
James grins, his charm dial turned up to maximum. "Why, thank you, ma'am. It's all in a day's work for a dashing wizard like myself."
You can't help but roll your eyes at his shameless flattery, but the elderly witch seems thoroughly charmed, her laughter filling the air as James regales her with tales of his misadventures on the dance floor.
After a few minutes of chatting, you gently suggest that perhaps it's best to continue the conversation off the dance floor to avoid any more accidents. The elderly witch nods in agreement, bidding James farewell with a fond pat on the arm.
As you lead James away, the two of you share a knowing grin. "Smooth move, Potter," you tease, nudging him playfully.
James chuckles as he throws an arm over your shoulders. "What can I say? Charming old witches is just one of my many talents."
You shake your head in mock exasperation, but there's a warmth spreading through you at the easy camaraderie between you. Despite the chaos of the evening, being with James feels surprisingly natural, as if you were hanging out with an old friend rather than just an aquaintance.
At the bar, James orders a couple of drinks, and you find a quiet corner to settle into. The soft glow of the fairy lights creates an intimate atmosphere, and as you sip your drink, you find yourself relaxing in his company.
"So," James begins, leaning back in his chair with a playful glint in his eyes, "tell me something interesting about yourself that I wouldn't know from our Hogwarts days."
You ponder for a moment, swirling the liquid in your glass thoughtfully. "Well, I've developed quite the talent for baking since leaving school. There's something therapeutic about kneading dough and watching it rise."
James raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Is that so? I'll have to enlist you as my personal pastry chef sometime."
You laugh, nudging him playfully. "Don't get your hopes up. My baking skills might be up to par with your dancing."
James chuckles. "Well, I guess that means we'll have to stick to takeout for our first date then."
You raise an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Are you asking me out on a date, Potter?"
James leans in, his grin widening. "Consider it a formal invitation. How about dinner at that new Italian place in Diagon Alley tomorrow? I hear they have the best tiramisu."
You pretend to mull it over, though your heart is already racing with excitement. "Hmm, Italian food and dessert? Sounds tempting. I suppose I could pencil you into my busy schedule."
James feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Penciled in? I demand top priority, thank you very much."
You laugh, the warmth of his playful banter melting away any lingering reservations. "Alright, you win. Dinner it is."
"Excellent," James says with a satisfied grin. "I'll pick you up at seven, then?"
You nod, feeling a rush of anticipation at the prospect of spending more time with him. "Seven it is. I'll be ready."
As you both finish your drinks, James suddenly feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns to see the elderly witch from earlier, a twinkle in her eye.
"Excuse me, young man," she says with a smile, "but would you care to dance with an old lady like me?"
James's grin widens at the unexpected invitation. "Of course, I'd be honored!"
He shoots you an apologetic look before following the woman onto the dance floor, leaving you chuckling at his eagerness. Watching James twirl the elderly witch with surprising grace, you can't help but feel a fondness for him grow.
As you observe them dance, you realize just how lucky you are to have him by your side tonight. Despite the chaos of the wedding and the presence of your ex, James has managed to turn what could have been a disastrous evening into one filled with laughter and joy.
After a few minutes, James returns to your side with a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that. Couldn't resist the opportunity to show off my moves to a new audience."
You laugh, shaking your head in amusement. "No need to apologize. You’re quite the hit out there."
James beams at the compliment, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Well, I aim to please."
As you both make your way towards the exit and he bids you farewell with a cheesy kiss on your hand, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within you. Tomorrow's date with James suddenly feels like the highlight of your week, and you can't wait to see where this newfound connection will take you.
James Taglist - @urmomsgirlfriend1 @remussbitch @starsval @whoknowsbut @gayforyelena @marauderswhxre @ravenclawprincess33 @helpimhopelesslyinlove @Yhiiil @themarauderswife7 @ihatemyexs @starsval @bath1lda @Allshitsangiggles @mildly-delulu @vcosette @rinalouu @agent-tempest @S0urw00lf @pinkestfloyd @l0v3do11 @Unstablereader @wolfstar-marvelsfan @captainstanksblog @pinktreee @ceehance @andrew-and-flower @cas-planet @csmt_m @poppysrin @camille-1019 @Laniirackssss @bshwrites @slytherinambitious @notyaslol @txzii @yourenogoodforme @starzioo @darkenwolfie @bunnyweasley23
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TLH -Extra-: Love Potion! - Lisa (Feat. Aether/Diluc/Venti/Gorou x Fem!Reader)
-"Lisa.....it is possible to make a Love Potion?"
The librarian took a sip of her tea and then smiled at you.
-"Oh my....is the little cutie having feelings for someone?"
After that, you heard some glass hitting of one another and a gasp
-"Aether! Watch out!!"
You looked behind Lisa to see Aether who almost dropped a new batch of potions and Paimon holding a bottle and scolding him for not being careful. After making sure they don't need your help, you look back at the librarian.
-"It's not that I want to use it on someone... After making so many potions with Aether I just started to wonder if it's even possible to make Love Potion too." You tilted your head, wondering.
Love Potions are a popular concept in fantasy stories. You saw the magic of the potions you made with your companion, so you couldn't stop wondering if it's possible to make one that will bring two people together in this world too.
The purple witch closed her eyes, with a smile not leaving her face.
-"Then I want to ask you... How would such a Love Potion work in your opinion?"
You hummend.
-"Something like, the person who will drink it will feel more relaxed around the other person? Or maybe the person can use potion on their skin and the smell will make other people attracted to them?"
Lisa giggled.
-"Oh my....are you planning to make all the people in the city fall in love with you?"
-"Wha-!? N-no! ... Alright, the potion used on skin is a bad idea..."
-"But I like your ideas... most people would say that a Love Potion should make someone immediately fall in love with the first person they see. A potion like this is possible to make of course but it is morally wrong to use one like this." Lisa poured more tea to her and your cups.
You thanked her and asked.
-"Have you ever made one before?"
-"Oh? Are you interested in my love life?"
-"W-well..." You played with your fingers, Lisa laughed.
-"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't but coming back to the subject... I won't mind for you to try making your own 'Love Potion', you can consider this as a small test from me.
She was still smiling, but you felt a chill run down your spine. You gulped.
-"Before you start you have to promise me that you will be the one testing the effects of your Love Potion, alright?"
-"A-alright..." You nodded, maybe this wasn't a good idea to ask about it, but you won't lie, it's exciting to try to make such a new potion.
....
Aether watched you working on this new potion. He knows this is a bad idea and yet deep down he wishes for it to work even for a moment and have you shower him with affection and love.
You promised Lisa that you will be the one testing it and Aether is there to make sure you won't be jumping on random people to kiss them or something.
-"Are you sure about that?" the blond boy asked. You looked at him with a big smile.
-"Of course! It's really fun! I used Zatyun Peaches, Marcotte, Dandelion, Glaze Lily... let's see..." You put the mixture into heart shaped glass. The color was pink mixed with purple. "Okay... let's try it!" You took a sip.
-Oh! Is (Y/n) testing the potion now?" Paimon flew towards you, wanting to see how it would go. You licked your lips.
-"So how are you feeling?" The little girl asked.
-"Hm... normal." You shrugged. "The taste is a bit off though."
-"So the first one failed? Don't worry (Y/n)! I'm sure the next one will work! ... (Y/n)? Why are you looking at Paimon like that?"
-"..."
You placed your hands on Paimon's cheeks and then started to pinch them.
-"Uwaaa! Paimon!!! Your cheeks are so chubby! So cute!! Like a hamster!!"
Paimon tried to run away from your grasp but you held her tight and started to hug her. Nuzzling your face into a little girl's head.
-"Why are you so cute?! This should be illegal!!"
-"Aaaa! Aether!! Help me!!!" But the boy didn't do anything. He stood there watching all of this with a pout. "Why couldn't this happen to me?" he thought.
...
You sighed. Thankfully the potion worked only for 5 minutes. After drinking the potion Paimon started to look very cute in your eyes and you got the urge to hug and smooch her cheeks.
-"This...wasn't the effect I was looking for..."
-"Next time do that to Aether! Paimon felt like some toy!!" the little girl pouted still hiding behind the golden haired boy.
-"I'm so sorry Paimon! I didn't expect to lose control like this!" Paimon only did small 'hmph' and went to gather more flowers.
-”I have to buy Paimon some Sweet Madame later…” you scratched your head, looking at an angry, little girl flying over the garden. “Okay, let’s go back to making potions!”
Aether watched you putting ingredients into the pot. You look so cute when you concentrate on something, he really wanted to leave a kiss on your cheek now. And maybe he will be able to, if the potion works of course. He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t realize that you finished your second one.
-”Oh! Master Diluc! Welcome back!” Paimon shouted. Aether looked over where the red haired male stood. He wondered if there was some problem with the batch they sent to Dawn Winery, so he went to ask Diluc about that.
-”Welcome back, was there any problem with potions?”
-”No, I wanted to commission you to make another one with different effect-”
-”Diluc!!! Welcome!!!” You jumped on the red haired man, holding on to him tightly. Both guys were surprised. Diluc didn’t know what to do, after you jumped at him, he stopped moving. “Ah I missed you so much! My heart is in pain without you!” You nuzzled your head into his chest.
-”(Y/n)! Let Master Diluc go! We are sorry! (Y/n) was trying to make Lo- testing new potions, so she ends up behaving like this! Aether don’t just stare! Help Paimon!!!” The white haired girl shouted at Traveler who was standing in place, too shocked that again your affection was given to another person. And the worst part is that it is given to another guy!
You held tightly to the young Master of Dawn Winery.
-”No! I won’t let go! Diluc is so warm! I want to stay with him! Oh? I knew it! You feel the same, right? Your face is so red! Hehe~” You giggled, seeing the red cheeks of Diluc. He tried to cover his face with one hand and turn his head away from you, but with your hold on him it was hard.
-”That’s it!” Paimon shouted and then started to tickle you, hoping it would make you let go of Diluc. And it worked, even too well. You tried to run away from Paimon but you ended up falling on the ground with the little girl not showing any mercy.
When Paimon stopped tickling you, you needed some time to take your breath.
-”Are you alright?” Aether that was crouching by your side, asked.
-”Ha…ha…y-yeah… I’m better now…” Aether held his hand for you to help you get up from the ground. “Thanks!” You smiled and then looked at the red haired man. “I’m sorry Diluc for that. The potion I was working on didn’t go well as it seems. Ah! I have to write everything down!” And you ran off to the table where you are making potions. Aether sighed. “Next time I have to stay close to her no matter what.” He thought. Meanwhile Diluc finally calmed his fast beating heart down. He coughed into his hand.
-”It seems you both are busy… I’ll come another time.”
-”Wa! But Master Diluc! We can still take your order!! Oi!” Paimon shouted but Diluc already left. Right now he wished he had Cryo vision to cool down his red cheeks.
…
-”Done! The third one should be a success!” You held up the potion to show to Aether and Paimon. The little girl already hid behind the Traveler.
-”How does this potion work?” the boy finally asked.
-”Hm? Oh! I want to make a potion that fills you with confidence! Like you know, if someone is planning to confess! If I lost control over my emotions and stuff that means I failed…Ok! Let’s try this one!” You drank it.
-”So…how are you feeling?” Paimon asked, still being behind Aether.
-”Normal… the taste is at least better!”
And you three just stood there in silence for a moment.
-”Weird. I don't feel different either…”
-”Hello there my good friends!” you all heard a sing-song voice.
-”Wa!! Tone-Deaf Bard!! Don’t scare Paimon like that!” the little girl pouted and crossed her arms.
-”Ehe~!”
-”Ugh Paimon have enough! Why are you even here?!”
Venti make sad face
-”Aw, I just wanted to check what my dear friends are up to…but it seems you don’t want this poor lil old me here…” The bard turned around “Ah how sad that I’m not welcome here…” he said with a sad tone. The truth is he wanted to tease Paimon a bit, but what he didn’t expect is that your arms would embrace his torso from behind. Your head on his shoulder.
-”Don’t say that, Venti. You know we are always happy when you’re with us. I love hearing you sing or recite poems or play on your Lyre. And of course we love hanging out with you!” you said, your cheek pressing towards his one.
It’s hard to surprise Venti, he is not moved when someone tries to charm him either. And yet there you are, making Anemo Archon’s heart beat speed.
-“Oh? Is that so? So you won’t mind if I stay for awhile then?~”
You turned him around and grabbed his cheeks.
-“Of course we won’t! Stay as long as you want!” your thumbs started to do small circles on his cheeks. Venti was stunned because of such close contact. “Did anyone said how pretty you are?” You continued while playing with one of his braids.
But before the bard could say anything, someone took you away from him.
-“It seems the potion works….but not in a way it should.” Said Aether, glaring at Anemo Archon while hugging you from behind.
You looked surprised, but then smiled and pat the golden haired boy’s cheek.
-“Aww, is someone jealous? Don’t worry Aether…you’re pretty too!”
Paimon flew over Venti to explain your behavior.
…
This time the effect of the potion lasted longer. You spend one hour complimenting the boys, holding their hands or caressing their cheeks. They didn’t complain, they decided to just bath in your affections. Even when the potion stopped working and you were apologizing for all those stuff you did, they were smiling saying “Don’t worry!” in their heads they wished the potion lasted longer.
Venti had to go, he promised Diona to help find some more stuff for her new drink. But he didn’t mind to leave so soon, your attention towards him and touches brought him to such a good mood that even now he is coming up with new songs and poems. He hopes that you’ll listen to them later.
Meanwhile you were feeling burned out. None of the potions worked the way you wanted and you’re not sure what you are doing wrong. You were looking at your notes but feeling a bit frustrated you just closed the notebook and sighed.
-“What’s wrong (Y/n)?” The boy asked who was sitting by your side.
-“I.. I’m just angry I failed so many times… we did so many potions that I thought I can make something like this…” Aether patted your back.
-“How about a small break? Maybe you’ll get an idea how to improve it after you relax a bit?”
-“Yeah!” Paimon flew over with flowers in her hands “We didn’t eat anything in some hours!! Your belly is empty and this is why you can’t come up with anything!”
You giggled.
-“Alright, let’s go to eat then!” Paimon fly higher like she wanted to jump in the air shouting “Yay!!”. Your group decided to go to Good Hunter for a meal.
After filling your bellies with good food, you come back to working on the potion.
-“Alright… this is my last attempt… if it won’t work then I give up.” You said to your companions and started working on the mixture.
You were writing something on your notebook, Aether is always curious what you write there but he can’t read it at all, even if he visited so many worlds he didn’t know your language (or maybe he doesn’t remember it anymore?). The connection between him and you helps you to understand and speak in Teyvat language but you can’t read Teyvat alphabet and people from here and him can’t read your alphabet. He is really wondering why this connection can help with speaking but not reading, there are many mysteries about it.
-“I finished it!” you suddenly shouted, surprising Aether. “Okay…here we go!” and drank it immediately. “It tastes sweet…too sweet…ugh…” you said, closing your eyes.
-“Hey everyone!”
Everyone turned toward Gorou who was approaching your little group.
-“Gorou, wait! Don’t move--!” But before Aether could finish his sentence you ran towards the Watatsumi General.
-“Hm?” Gorou stopped moving and looked at you. The both of you looked at each other without saying anything. “Is there a probl-“
-“Marry me!!” you shouted. Kneeling in front of him and holding his hand.
-“WHAT?!” everyone shouted. Gorou's ears and tail were standing up.
-“I know it’s sudden but Gorou! I want to spend the rest of my life with you!” You put his hand where your heart is.
-“B-but (Y-Y/n) this is…this is too sudden!” he said but anyone who was behind him could see his tail start wagging.
-“I know! But I don’t want to waste any more sec- uwah?! “ you were interrupted by Aether who tried to take you away from the cannie warrior.
-“Sorry Gorou! Don’t take this seriously, she drank a weird potion and is…a bit crazy!!” said Paimon and then helped Aether to take you away.
Gorou stood there stunned, his face was red.
-“So…does it mean you and (Y/n) are married now?” Kirara asked, approaching him.
-“Wha- N-no…” his ears fall.
-“You look disappointed.”
-“I’m not!” But yes, he is.
When you come to your senses you apologize, you’re so embarrassed that you proposed to someone. You think you won’t be able to look Gorou in the eyes for some time. This was a big failure and you gave up. When talking with Lisa, she said to not worry, even if the potions didn’t work how you wanted you still learned some things. You decided to take a small break from making potions and took a nap under the tree, while Aether continued to make potions that people commissioned.
Lisa watched from her table and sighed.
-“It’s a shame Razor wasn’t there…” then she chuckled “But oh well, at least I had some fun watching all of this~” and then she took a sip of her tea.
-Bonus-
In Inazuma, the pink kitsune laughed loudly.
-“Ah I wish I could see this with my own eyes~” said with a smile, trying to imagine the whole scenario.
-“Paimon said it was because of potion…at first I thought (Y/n) was serious about that nya!
-“Hmm… I think this gave me some ideas. Thank you Kirara for sharing about your trip with me.” Yae Miko eyes’ looked like a predator finding it’s another meal.
-“A-ahaha! You’re welcome!” Kirara at this moment started wondering if it was really alright to tell Yae about her trip with Gorou to Mondstadt.
------
Thank you for reading till the end! And sorry for mistakes >.<
You can guess I had the idea when I played the potion event but because I couldn't use my PC I had hard time to finish it in peace... But now I can use my PC again so I'll try finish other things! I'll post other short thing today or tomorrow that I started to write in that time without my PC. It may not be that great but I hope you'll still like it!
#Genshin Impact x Reader#Genshin x Reader#Traveler's little helper#Genshin Impact x You#Aether x Reader#Diluc x Reader#Venti x Reader#Gorou x Reader#Platonic Lisa#My stuff#Platonic Paimon
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✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader
✦ summary: you long for excitement in your mundane life, until you are suddenly visited by a strange, beautiful woman who upends your world and thrusts you into a whirlwind of pleasure and danger.
✦ genre/au: smut (MDNI!!), succubus!bada, basically pwp
✦ word count: 6k
✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors, mentions of demons and occult activities, top!bada (she's doing all the work), fingering, cunnilingus, bit of thigh riding, y/n is a weakling, somebody dies (or do they?)
✦ a/n: this is very different from other fics I've written, in genre and length, because after watching bebe's imagination video on repeat, i decided to temporarily drop the other fic i was working on to write this! we will be getting back to the more simple (and long) fics I've written before, but i hope you guys still enjoy this in the meantime! i purposely left this open-ended in case i, or you guys, wanted to see a continuation of this story at some point. lmk if that would be of interest to y'all!
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Beyond the restaurant windows, rain pounds against the earth. The rhythmic drumming of the rain lulls you into a trance-like state, eyes glossing over and body becoming numb. The soft jazz music coming from the speakers overhead only enhances your drowsiness, making you melt into your seat like heated wax. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand and stare out at the street, watching cars pass by and disappear into the darkness. Your eyelids become heavy and you blink, attempting to bring your attention back to the real world, and, probably most importantly, the person in front of you.
You sigh, slouching forward in your chair. Your date, Seolhyun, has been droning on for the last twenty minutes about her schoolwork. Her mouth is moving, but your mind isn't registering her words. You can't bring yourself to care. She seems somewhat nice, and she's devastatingly pretty, but those were about the only two qualities of value that you could conjure up. This wouldn't have been so bad, if this date hadn't essentially turned into a one-sided conversation she was having with herself. You don't think you've said more than three words since the both of you sat down.
"Like, nursing is so boring and depressing. I don't get why so many people are into it," she says, taking a bite of her food. "I want to do something interesting and fresh, like, modeling, or something. Or, maybe I'll switch my major to art. I take really good pictures of my friends. Isn't there a photography concentration in the arts program?"
Seolhyun looks over at you expectantly, waiting for your input. You have no idea what the answer is, so you just shrug and give her a fake, tight-lipped smile.
"Yeah, you know what? I think I'm gonna talk to my advisor tomorrow. It's just that my dad is the problem. Whenever I talk to my dad he's like, nooooo. That's not what I've been sending you money for. He's so old fashioned."
"Oh," you respond, your voice monotone. There is a part of you that can't help but feel a little bad about zoning out and ignoring her, but you've had your fill of boring conversations about family and school and life aspirations. This was nothing new.
She slams one of her hands on the table, making you jump so high you nearly knock your glass of water over.
"And it's silly because he's the one who wanted me to go to college sooo badly, so how are you going to complain about paying for it? Its like—and not to sound like a cunt—we do pretty well for ourselves. I don't need to be the moneymaker! I get he wants me to be the head nurse at the hospital he owns, but honestly, fuck that hospital. Fuck the patients too!" she continues, her voice raised loud enough to capture the attention of the nearby tables. You can feel their eyes on you, and a wave of embarrassment washes over you. You glance around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, slowly sliding down in your seat.
"He's just...he's such a hardass. Doesn't let me do anything. It's a real shame," she finishes, huffing in annoyance.
You nod. "Right, it is a real shame." you mumble, still avoiding others' judgemental gazes.
She doesn't seem to notice how uncomfortable you've become, or the attention that she's gathering. Instead, she grins."I know! I'm so glad you get it."
The only thing you're getting is murderous. You needed to get out of here, quickly. As if hearing your internal cries for help, the waiter appears, asking if the two of you would like to see the dessert menu. You shake your head.
"Oh, no. Just the check please," you say, glancing up at him.
Seolhyun nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'm done. This salad was kinda trash. No offense. Sorry." She picks up her napkin and dabs it at her mouth.
The waiter grimaces. "No problem. I'll be right back."
As the waiter walks off, you turn back to Seolhyun, forcing yourself to smile. She jumps right back into her complaints, albeit more quietly, and fidgets with the stem of her wine glass. You tune her out again, no longer feeling guilty for doing so. The only thing that brings your attention back to reality is the waiter setting the bill face-down on the table. He bids you both goodnight before walking off, and when you look up, you almost want to laugh.
A guilty expression flashes across Seolhyun's face, and she leans over the table, looking at the check. She clears her throat, and you already know what she's about to say.
"Do you have your card on you? Sorry, I think I left mine at home. I'll totally venmo you after this." She laughs awkwardly, sitting back in her seat.
You roll your eyes, but reach for your wallet. "Whatever."
After dinner, the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the rain, huddling under the overhang as you try to find an escape from the downpour.
"Well, it was nice chatting with you, y/n," she says, stepping towards the edge of the overhang. "Hope we can hang out again soon."
"Yeah, definitely," you lie.
"Awesome! Talk to you late, then." she smiles, and you know she's lying too.
Seolhyun walks out into the rain and you watch as she crosses the street, heading toward a pink Tesla.
"Bitch," you murmur bitterly, pulling your hood over your head.
You don't want to spend money on an Uber, and the walk to the nearest bus stop isn't very far, so you decide to trek through the rain, praying that the bus won't take long. You zip up your coat and put your hood over your head, stepping out into the rain. The cold pelts against your face and seeps through the material of your clothes, causing goosebumps to break out on your skin. You curse, and pull your arms in close to your body, walking faster. The streetlamps lining the road provide enough light for you to see where you're going despite the dark clouds overhead, their glow casting an orange glow against the pavement.
As you walk, your thoughts turn back to your disastrous date. You didn't mean to act like such an ass, but it was impossible not to when the entire evening had consisted of her talking about herself and how difficult her life was. The worst part is, she actually seemed to think you were a good listener, even with your blank stares and monosyllabic responses.
Deep down, you know that it's not entirely Seolhyun's fault. Today felt like a culmination of all the ways you've been failing lately. In short, it's been a bad week. A bad month. A bad year. At all points, you've felt as though there was no escape from the dullness of your life, like you were being suffocated, drowned in a pool of water with no way to save yourself. These were your college years, and you came to the realization last year that all you've been doing was sitting in your dorm, studying, going to class, and then going home. No parties, no drama, no adventures, no romance, nothing. Even worse, it seemed like everyone else had already started their lives and were living them. It was infuriating, seeing everyone around you have fun, while you were stuck in this weird limbo of mediocrity.
In attempts to find some excitement, you downloaded a dating app and started going out more, meeting people, but so far, all the dates have ended up being like this one. Boring, or just plain awkward. You've tried to make changes—different clothes, makeup, hair—anything to shake things up, and while that was nice and made you feel pretty, it didn't change the fact that your life was still dull. And now, you're just exhausted, constantly feeling like you're going through the motions.
Nothing has worked. This was probably the tenth horrible date you've been on in two months. Maybe, this was just your life now, and you had to come to terms with it. Bland, and as bleak as the clouds overhead.
Which seem to have gotten even darker, you notice, as you approach the bus stop. You stand underneath the shelter, rubbing your hands together and blowing on them. The streets are completely deserted. You shiver, your damp clothes clinging to your skin, and hug yourself tightly, trying to keep warm. You try to look for any sign of the bus, but the rain is coming down too hard, the air is heavy with fog, and you can't see further than a few feet away. A prickle of fear runs down your spine. You didn't even think to check if the buses were running late. What if they're not running at all?
Just as you reach for your phone to check the time, you hear the screeching of bus brakes and let out a sigh of relief. You're saved.
You stand at the edge of the sidewalk, watching as the bus slowly pulls up in front of the stop. The door opens and you step inside, moving as quickly as you can. The warm air instantly hits your face, but the heat does nothing to thaw the chill that has set in your bones. You pay the driver, and walk to the back, taking a seat near the window. The bus is nearly empty, save for an old woman and a couple of teenagers sitting towards the front.
You pull your phone out of your pocket and plug in your earbuds. Music starts playing, drowning out the noise of the rain and the rumble of the engine.
After a few stops, the bus reaches your destination and the doors open, the sound of the rain pouring down and the wind blowing in, bringing with it a cool breeze. You get off, and begin the trek home, your sneakers splashing through puddles as you make your way down the street.
The wind picks up, the gusts blowing hard enough to cause the street lamps to flicker and sway. They cast shadows against the ground and walls of the buildings, which appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. The rain comes down harder, falling in thick, heavy sheets. You quicken your pace, the muscles in your legs burning as you move, your heart rate quickening.
Finally, your apartment building comes into view. You run, sprinting the last block and darting up the steps, the water squishing between your toes. Excitement blooms in your chest as you grab the door handle and pull it open, the prospect of a dry place to lay your head making you feel better.
As soon as you cross the threshold of your building, you pull your hood down, the smell of mildew hitting your nose. Your shoes squeak against the wet floor, and you leave a trail of water droplets and mud as you head toward the elevator.
The ride up is excruciatingly slow. You tap your foot impatiently, watching the numbers climb, and think about the warm bed that's awaiting you, how good it'll feel to wrap yourself in a blanket and forget about this miserable night. If your roommate allows it.
Once your mind drifts to her, your excitement dwindles. Fatigue weighs heavy on your shoulders, and you long for nothing more than to be asleep in the comfort of your own bed, but you know it's a rubbish wish, thanks to Aeri.
Recently, home hasn't been particularly enjoyable either. You used to have a roommate who didn't bother you. Then, she dropped out, and you were stuck with rent, an empty room, and the task of finding a new roommate. It was a difficult process, with most candidates seeming creepy or annoying or gross. Then, you ran into Aeri, who was by no means a perfect match, but seemed good enough. She was a bit awkward, and you didn't really know what to make of the intense gothic attire she was sporting during your initial meeting. She seemed incredibly nice and easygoing, though, and she smelled good. Was that not all you needed? So, running out of time, you swallowed your apprehension and gave her the spare keys to your apartment.
For the most part, you didn't regret your decision. She was, in fact, one of the sweetest, most caring people you've ever met, frequently baking treats for you when she knew you were having a particularly terrible day and listening to you vent about your dating diasters. But, there were a few small issues that had cropped up, and they happened to occur most often at night.
Your stomach does flip-flops the higher the numbers get, until, finally, the elevator dings, and the doors open. You shuffle out into the hall, pulling out your keys and heading toward the apartment. When you're in front of the door, you hesitate, the key hovering in the air as you stare at the peephole. You take a deep breath and push the door open, the smell of incense instantly hitting your nose as you step inside of the dark apartment. You slip off your wet shoes and hang your jacket up on your worn-out coat rack.
"I'm back," you call, closing the door behind you. You step further into the apartment and glance around as you walk into the living room, where you are met with a sight you're not prepared for.
Your eyes squint to adjust to the dark and take in the scene before you. The air is thick and heavy, engulfed by the scent of a sweet, intoxicating perfume. Candles are placed throughout the space, their warm glow casting shadows on the wall. Aeri kneels in the middle of the living room, wearing a cloak, her hands hovering above an intricate pentagram on the floor. She mumbles something to herself that you cannot understand, her eyes closed. Her hair falls over her face and her lips move, but no words are uttered.
"Aeri, what are you doing?" you ask, taking a tentative step forward.
Aeri's head snaps up, her eyes wide, and the mumbling stops.
"Oh, hey, you're back," she says, her tone a bit nervous. Her hands tremble as she moves the hood of her cloak back. "Sorry, I didn't know you'd be back so soon. I was just—uh—you know."
"No, actually. I don't. What are you doing?" You repeat, folding your arms in front of you.
She looks around the room, before returning her gaze to you. "Uh...meditating?"
And this was the problem. Shortly after Aeri moved in, she brought her witchy occult shit with her. You don't really believe in any of it, so you typically ignore her and carry on with your day when you see her pull out one of her spellbooks at the dinner table. Except for days like this, when she goes too far, gets too loud, and keeps you up at night with her antics. Then, she becomes public enemy number one.
You glare at her. "With a pentagram on the floor? Please. This is..."
You pause, scanning the room again. There's something particularly wrong today, but you can't quite place it. There's heaviness in the air, a heightened version of the feeling you get when you're in a haunted house, except there are no clowns or people cosplaying as serial killers, just candles and a pentagram and Aeri, staring up at you.
"Bizarre. This is bizarre. Even for you." you finish, narrowing your eyes. "What's going on?"
"Nothing!" She squeaks, her voice strained. "I was just...doing some reading about a spell that could, uh. Fix a problem that I’ve been having. I decided to try it out today"
You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out an exasperated sigh. You're tired. Your hair is drenched. Your shirt is clinging to your back. You couldn't be bothered with this.
"Listen, I don't think I actually care about what you have going on. But, I have an exam tomorrow, I've had a rough day, and I need some rest. Can you promise to keep it down in here while I sleep?"
Aeri looks around, a guilty expression on her face, before nodding her head. "Sure, yeah. No problem. I’m sorry."
"Thank you," you say, and turn on your heels without another word.
You make your way through the hallway and enter your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.
Your room is dark and cold, but you can't bother to turn the lights on or get under the covers. Instead, you lay down on the bed, your limbs splayed out. Your hair is still wet, and you can feel the moisture seeping into your comforter, but you can't even think to move.
You're too tired to bother changing into your pajamas. Too tired to do anything but sleep. So, you shove off your socks and rain-soaked jeans and call it a day. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets over your body until they rest just below your chin. The warmth envelopes you and you're finally able to relax. You stare up at the ceiling, watching the fan spin slowly, praying for a peaceful night's rest. Lately, you've been plagued by strange dreams you can't remember when you wake up. Although they've been forgetful, they usually keep you tossing and turning in your sleep throughout the night. But, tonight, your eyelids are so heavy you can barely keep them open, and within seconds, you drift off into unconsciousness, the world slipping away and the darkness consuming you. The smell of Aeri's incense and the sound of the rain lulls you into a slumber unlike never before, submerged into a dark void of nothing.
That is, until you feel something touch you. You awaken with a start, jolting upright in your bed, your heart racing. The room is dark, illuminated only by the light of the moon shining through the window. You glance around frantically, searching for the source of the touch, but there's nothing, no sign of life. Just shadows, and the sound of your breathing. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It's probably just the wind or an insect. You're tired, and your deteriorating mind is playing tricks on you. There's nothing to be scared of.
You lay back down, pulling the blankets up to your chin, and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. Your heartbeat begins to slow, and you exhale, trying to relax. A few minutes pass, and you begin to drift off once again, when, suddenly, you feel something against your neck. A cold, soft pressure. Like a feather, brushing across your skin.
"Y/N." A soft, gentle voice whispers.
Your eyes flutter open, and you are met with the sight of a woman's face, inches away from yours. You gasp and shoot up again, nearly slamming your forehead against hers. The woman backs away, allowing you to regain your bearings. You blink a few times, shaking your head to try to wake yourself up, but she remains., staring at you with an expression that could only be described as amused.
The moonlight streams in through the window, giving the woman's figure an almost ethereal glow. You've never seen her before. She has a stupefying, otherworldly, beauty about her, with dark eyes and full lips that accentuate her sharp jawline. She's wearing a black, silky nightgown that clings to her body. Her pale, delicate-looking skin shines in the moonlight, and her dark hair, interlaced with another color, cascades down her back, falling over her shoulders.
You look around the room, expecting the lights to turn on and an elaborate prank to be revealed, but the room is just as dark and empty as you remember. When your eyes fall back onto the woman, she is staring back at you, a soft smile on her face.
"Who the fuck are you?" you force out, your voice trembling.
She quirks an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. "Were you not expecting me?"
You scoff, nearly choking on your own saliva. "No! Of course not. I've never seen you before in my life. What the hell is going on? And how do you know my name?"
Her eyes light up with mirth, and her smile widens as if she's in on some sort of joke.
"Oh, this is interesting," she starts, clasping her hands together. "This is very interesting."
As a primal fear takes hold of your body, interesting is the last word that comes to your brain to describe the situation you've found yourself in. Albeit hot, this random woman broke into your apartment to do God knows what to you and your belongings. Who knows if she's already murdered Aeri. Or, perhaps, this is a lucid dream, and you're experiencing some sort of weird hallucination. Either way, you wanted out. Now.
You release a shaky exhale in a poor attempt to calm your nerves. "I'm gonna call the cops, okay? But, I really don't want any trouble. If you leave now, I won't tell anyone about this."
The woman stares at you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before erupting into a fit of laughter. You blink, unsure of how to proceed. She continues to laugh, her hand clutching her chest as her whole body shakes. The sound is melodic, and it rings out like the chimes of a bell, the notes flowing effortlessly into the air. It's almost enchanting, and you find yourself lost in the melody until she quiets down and straightens up, a soft smile on her face.
"That's completely unnecessary. I'm not here to cause you any harm, Y/N," she says, and, somehow, her voice is even more hypnotic than her laugh. Some of your fear dissipates, but the confusion remains.
"Why are you here, then?" you question, unable to keep the suspicion out of your tone.
"To give you a little bit of help. I know you've been struggling." She replies, her voice dripping with sympathy.
"How do you know that?"
She smiles, the expression making her features seem even more radiant than before. "I know a lot of things. 'How' is irrelevant. What's more important is that I know exactly how I can help you tonight. You need...a stress reliever. I can do that for you. If you're up for it, that is."
"A stress reliever?" You echo, and the way her eyes sparkle in the moonlight, her lips quirked up in a seductive smirk, her voice low and smooth, makes it abundantly clear what she's implying. Your cheeks flush and heat rushes through your body. This couldn't be real. Could it?
"I don't think we're on the same page. I mean, a...stress reliever. I don't know if I understand," you say, shifting uncomfortably.
"You're a bit slow, aren't you?" she asks a devilish grin stretching across her face, and, she's probably right. You feel like a fish out of water, opening and closing your mouth like an idiot. The worst part of it is, she seems to be enjoying your floundering, grinning wider as she watches you stutter.
"There's no need to worry," she purrs, taking a step closer, her dark eyes shining. "You just need to relax. It'll be fun."
The sane, rational part of your brain is screaming, yelling, begging for you to run out of the room. Anybody with half a brain could decipher that the sensible thing to do in this situation would be to flee, grab a weapon, and call the police. Yet, here you are, lying still, the woman's words ringing in your ears. Fun. It's been a long time since you've had fun. You can't even remember the last time you've gotten remotely close to it. And, as if she was sent from above, here was a beautiful, mysterious woman, offering it to you on a platter. You can't help but be a bit curious. Curious about the strange, magical feeling that's coursing through your veins.
Plus, your body is aching for touch, and the idea of sleeping with a beautiful woman is incredibly tempting, especially in your state. It's been months since you've had sex.
The woman takes a step closer, and your stomach does a flip. This is stupid. It's dangerous, and stupid, and it would be so easy to say no.
"You won't hurt me, right?" You ask, a nervous edge creeping into your voice.
"You'll enjoy every second we spend together," she says, her eyes stroking over you. Her gaze is so intense, her voice so soothing, all you want is to please her. You don't think. You no longer have the ability to. Your desire is too strong.
"What are you going to do?" you ask, the words tumbling out of your mouth.
"That depends on you," she says, her fingers brushing the edge of the duvet. "What would you like me to do?"
You look into her dark, all-consuming eyes, and shiver. Your blood feels like it's on fire. "I—um—whatever you had in mind."
Her eyes narrow, her lips curling up into a smirk. She leans in, her warm breath ghosting your lips. You can smell her perfume, the scent of vanilla and lavender assaulting your senses.
Your heart beats fast, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes your throat.
"Are you sure?" she says, her voice low. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."
She's right. For all you knew, her idea of fun could include a knife and a casket. But you couldn't bring yourself to care, not when she's looking at you like that.
"I don't care," you say, your voice hoarse. "Do whatever you want with me."
The corners of her lips curl upwards, and her eyes twinkle with mischief. "Okay," she whispers, her voice soft and sweet.
She leans forward, her lips ghosting yours. You hold your breath, anticipating her next move. Her hand moves up to cup your cheek, her thumb rubbing small circles on your skin that send a tingle down your spine. You lean into the touch, and her smile widens. She tilts her head to the side, and presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. The contact is soft, tender, and sweet. Her lips are warm, and the touch is brief, but enough to ignite the flames within your veins. You gasp, moving your head to try to capture her lips with yours, and she chuckles, pulling away.
"You're so impatient," she says, her eyes gleaming. "Desperate, even."
Embarrassment creeps up on you, and you flush, averting your gaze. She laughs again, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her.
"Don't hide from me," she whispers, her voice soft. "There's nothing wrong with wanting something."
With her words, the fire within you flares, and the embers within your belly burst into an inferno. Your whole body is burning, yearning, and you can't help the sigh that escapes your throat. She hums, staring at you with her piercing gaze. You've never felt this exposed, so vulnerable, so completely bare in front of another person, and you are still partially clothed. She seems to be studying you, taking in every detail, memorizing the expressions on your face. She's looking at you like you're prey, a feast, and it should scare you, should make you tremble, but it doesn't.
"Kiss me," you murmur, and she obeys.
You let out a small gasp, and her lips curve into a smile against yours as you make contact. Your eyes flutter shut, and the warmth of her mouth almost sends you spiraling. The feeling is electric, like a bolt of lightning, and it sets every nerve ending within your body alight. Her tongue glides along your bottom lip, and you part them willingly, allowing her all of the access she desires. Her tongue is warm, and wet, and her kisses are intoxicating. She tastes sweet, like strawberries and vanilla, and you can't help but moan.
She pulls away, prompting an involuntary whimper from you."Is this what you wanted, y/n?"
"Yes—uh," you stop yourself, realizing that you still don't know her name.
"Bada," she supplies, as if reading your mind. She places a hand on your chest, and gently pushes you back onto the bed, her gaze locked on yours. You fall onto the mattress, your eyes wide.
"Bada," you repeat softly, tasting the name on your lips. Pretty.
She smiles and slips the blankets off of you. The cool air hits your skin, sending goosebumps along your arms and legs. You suck in a sharp breath, and her eyes rake over you, drinking in the sight.
"Beautiful," she whispers, her fingers tracing up your thigh.
She leans down to press a gentle kiss on your jaw. Her lips travel down your neck, and she bites at the sensitive skin, hard. A moan slips from your mouth, and she sucks and licks at the spot, soothing the sting. Her hand trails up the inside of your thigh, and her fingertips graze the band of your underwear. You arch your back, yearning for her touch.
"Please," you whimper again, and she giggles.
"At least you're polite," she says, biting down on your neck again.
Her teeth scrape against your skin, and you gasp, grabbing a fistful of her hair. You pull her closer, desperate to remove any shred of distance between the two of you. She groans, her nails digging into your thigh, her touch searing hot. She sucks at the tender skin below your collarbone, and you whine, heat pooling between your legs. It was a little humiliating, getting so worked up despite the fact that she's barely done anything, but it was hard not to when she's touching as if she wants nothing more than to devour you.
"So impatient," she purrs, her eyes gleaming. "So needy."
She kisses the mark she made on your neck, and you squirm, the pressure between your thighs growing.
Her fingers move higher, ghosting over your underwear, and you writhe under her touch, letting out a frustrated groan. She pulls away, a smirk on her lips.
"Something wrong?"
"You're fucking with me," you hiss, and she laughs out loud.
"Your impatience is cute," she says, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin on your neck, pausing where your heartbeat pulsed, right beneath your jaw. "Can't help it."
You watch as she moves her hand away from your neck, back to your underwear. Her fingers slip under the band of your panties, already dark and wet, and she runs them through your folds, spreading your already abundant slickness. You couldn't stand that you were so clearly proving her point about how needy you were, giving her more to make fun of you about, but how could you not be? It's been too long. and you don't know if it's ever felt this good this early on.
Your head falls back onto the pillow, and your hands clutch at the sheets, desperate for purchase. The feeling of her thumb brushing against your clit makes your hips buck up, and she pulls away to pull down your panties.
You shiver, the cool air hitting your exposed skin. She grabs your thighs, spreading them apart, and the anticipation nearly kills you on the spot.
"So pretty," she says, her voice filled with wonder.
She looks up at you, her eyes darker than before. She holds your gaze, and without breaking eye contact, ducks her head, and swipes her tongue along your slit.
A moan escapes your lips, and your back arches, your fingers threading through her hair. Her tongue moves in circles, and you feel her hands grasp at your thighs as you inadvertently try shut them close around her head. She spreads them further apart, and presses her mouth against your center, sucking on the bundle of nerves.
"F—fuck," you moan, your head thrown back, eyes shut.
She moans into you, the vibrations causing pleasure to erupt inside of you. You grip the sheets, the fabric crumpling underneath your fingers. She pulls away, and your eyes fly open, only to meet her intense gaze.
"Watch me," she whispers, her voice husky.
Your eyes snap to her face, and she smiles, her fingers trailing down your stomach. You squirm under her touch, and she grips your thighs, her eyes locked on yours. Her staring does something to you, makes the goosebumps rise on your skin, a funny feeling arise in your stomach. She presses her lips against the inside of your thigh, her eyes not leaving yours.
She slips a finger inside of you, and you gasp, the sudden intrusion causing a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. She curls her finger, and you arch your back, the friction driving you crazy.
"That's it," she purrs, adding another finger.
You throw your head back, moaning as she begins to thrust her fingers, moving in a steady rhythm. You clench around her fingers, and her eyes widen, a mischievous glint shining in her irises. You bite your lip, the pressure building, and she smirks, increasing the pace of her movements. She crooks her fingers, hitting a sensitive spot inside of you.
"Fuck," you cry out, and her lips curl upwards, pleased.
She leans forward, her lips capturing yours, her tongue invading your mouth. She swallows your moans, and you can feel her smiling against your lips. She pulls away, and rests her forehead against yours, her dark eyes boring into yours.
"Are you going to come for me, y/n?"
"Y-yes," you whimper, and she laughs, her hot breath fanning against your cheek.
She thrusts her fingers faster, and her thumb rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your breaths come out short and quick, and your head spins, the room spinning.
"Come on," she whispers, her voice low and sultry.
The pressure builds, and you can feel the edge coming. You gasp, your eyes shut, and your whole body tenses up, the pleasure rippling through your body. You let out a string of curses, and she slows her movements, riding out the aftershocks.
"That's it," she murmurs, her fingers leaving your core.
She trails her fingers up your torso, and leans down, her lips hovering above yours.
"Open up," she commands, her voice taking on a deeper cadence that makes you immediately obey. She pushes her fingers inside of your mouth, and your tongue dances around her digits, tasting yourself, a musky flavor that leaves you feeling lightheaded. She hums and removes her fingers, a trail of saliva connecting her digits to your mouth.
"Good." she whispers, her breath tickling your cheek.
Your eyes flutter shut, and your head spins. You're exhausted, and you almost feel as if you're about to pass out, but her praise and proximity sends a thrill through you, your heart fluttering at her words. She presses another soft kiss to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on her tongue. She pulls away, a lazy smile on her face.
Through your exhaustion, you manage to meet her gaze again, and you nearly gasp. Her pupils had swollen, the dark brown of her eyes merely a slim ring around a black void, devoid of any color. You swallow hard, a slight panic rising within you as you suddenly remembering the reality of the predicament you're in. Or, was it even reality?
"W—what's happening?" you stutter, the words tumbling from your mouth.
She grins, and you realize for the first time that her teeth are razor sharp, looking as if they could tear your flesh to shreds.
"I'm taking care of you, that's what's happening, silly." she says, her voice taking on a sing-songy quality. Her hand trails down your side. "And I'm not quite finished, yet."
She leans down and captures your lips in another kiss so rough that it nearly bruises. You're still dizzy, the blood pumping through your veins, and your head still feels as if it's full of cotton. As soon as her hands meet your skin, your exhaustion and worry disappear, replaced by euphoria. She reaches under your shirt, her fingers dancing along your torso, and you moan, your mind foggy. You can't help the small sounds that escape from your lips as she touches you, her fingers tracing every curve, every angle, committing every inch of your body to memory. Soon, your top is tossed to the side, and her hands are exploring your bare skin. Her fingers run up your spine, and you shiver, goosebumps forming. She pulls away, and a whine falls from your lips, a sound that causes her to laugh.
"So easy to please," she teases.
"Sh-shut up," you protest weakly.
Suddenly, she grabs you by the waist, pulling you into her lap with an ease that catches you off guard. You're stunned into silence, and she wraps her arms around you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. You let out a yelp, and her nails dig into your skin, the sting making you bite back a groan. She places her chin on top of your shoulder, and her hands move lower, settling on your hips. She squeezes and forces your hips into a grind, her thigh meeting the apex of your legs. Your eyes flutter shut, a wave of heat pooling between your legs, a warmth filling the pit of your stomach, a small moan escaping your lips. She chuckles, her breath tickling the back of your neck.
"Fuck," you choke out, the embarrassment clear in your tone as you continue to your center against the smooth skin of her thigh.
"You're funny," she murmurs with a smile, and presses a kiss on your cheek.
A blush creeps onto your cheeks, and you hide your face, burying it into her neck. You inhale deeply, her scent filling your nose. She still smells so sweet, like dessert, and you want to lick her, devour her, but instead, you press your lips to her skin, and she moans, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark.
"God, you're so beautiful," she whispers, her nails digging into your hips. "So, so pretty."
You moan, the heat between your legs intensifying. Her words go straight to your core, and you can't help the small, high-pitched whine that leaves your mouth, a sound you'd be ashamed of if not for the fact that you can't think, can't focus, can't even process her words.
One of her hands slips around your waist, grabbing at the bare flesh of your ass. Your breath hitches, and she pulls you closer, her mouth finding the spot on your neck that drives you wild. Her teeth scrape against your skin, and her tongue laps at the hollow of your collarbone, the sensation eliciting a loud moan. You tilt your head, allowing her access, and her mouth moves downward, to your breast, her tongue circling one of your nipples. Your eyes squeeze shut, the tension in your abdomen mounting. It was overstimulating, her thighs, the way her tongue felt against you, the way her fingers squeezed at the flesh of your ass, the way her hands explored the planes of your body, and it was all too much.
"I'm gonna—" you start, and her hand moves between your legs, pressing her fingers against your throbbing clit.
You let out a cry, the orgasm hitting you hard, the intensity somehow stronger than before. Her fingers slide easily against you, and you clench around her, the waves of pleasure washing over your body.
She lets out a soft sigh, and she pulls away, her black eyes meeting yours. You don't care enough to feel frightened this time though, being so flooded with exhaustion that you collapse back onto the bed, barely able to keep your eyes open. Sharp, short breaths escape from your lips, and a numbness starts to spread throughout your limbs, a strange calm settling over your body that you've never felt before. Somewhere in the back of your brain, alarm bells are going off, but they're drowned out by a heavy sleepiness that takes over you.
"Go back to sleep, Y/N." she says, her voice distant, muffled. "It's alright."
You can feel the weight of the world bearing down on your shoulders, and the bags under your eyes seem to grow heavier and darker with every passing second. It has been a very long time since you were last able to sleep properly. You wanted to talk to Bada more, but you can feel yourself beginning to lose control, your mind going blank and your muscles becoming weak.
"Bada..." you mumble, her name rolling off your tongue.
Before you can further speak, the darkness seeps into your mind, and you allow yourself to succumb. But, the feeling that accompanies you into sleep is an uneasy one, a cold sensation wrapping itself around your body like a snake squeezing the life out of its prey.
"Good night," Bada whispers, the words echoing in the darkness, the sound fading into nothingness.
#bada lee#bada lee fanfic#bada lee x reader#bada lee x y/n#swf2#street woman fighter 2#bada lee imagine#bada lee smut
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Marauders Secondary school teachers au pt2:
The students really think that there's a love triangle between James, Lily, and Regulus. Most think that both James and Regulus are interested in Lily because James is constantly popping into her classroom for no reason, and she and Regulus eat lunch together a lot because their classrooms are right next to each other. However, some think that it's Lily and James that are going after Regulus for similar reasons. The truth is that James fancies both Lily and Regulus, Lily hangs out with Regulus so much because he gives her good advice for her crush on Mary, and Regulus is good friends with Lily but really couldn't care less about James visiting him so much, the same as Lily.
Sirius and Remus are the teacher couple that have been caught snogging in each others classrooms multiple times- only Remus apologises when they're caught.
Mary makes sure she has playground duty a lot so she can get all the gossip while it's still hot.
Marlene spends most of her time in Dorcas' class when she's not teaching because she's practically obsessed with her. The students are 50/50 on whether they're just co-dependent best friends like James and Sirius or actually secretly married.
Sirius prefers his students calling him by his first name because he doesn't like the sound of being called Mr Black or Sir as it reminds him too much of his father.
Students sometimes confuse Sirius and Regulus. Regulus is always deeply offended by this but Sirius can't help but laugh uncontrollably.
Lily gets called mum by students a lot because of how comfortable they are with her. She makes sure that they never feel embarrassed and sometimes keeps them back if she thinks that their homelife isn't the best, only wanting to make sure they're alright. She'd want to protect every single students of hers that is in bad situations.
Evan and Barty are constantly pitting their top sets against each other because they want to know who the best maths teacher is. The students find this simultaneously hilarious and frustrating because they have to work so much harder than other teachers' classes because their teacher wants to best the other.
Pandora is normally in her room alone because she wants to stay in a peaceful environment when she can due to how hectic some lessons can be. But sometimes Barty, Evan, Regulus, or Dorcas pop in just to make sure she's doing alright .
Marlene definitely has favourite students. These are mainly the ones who bring in food to eat and share with her but also the quiet kids in Dorcas' class because they don't make Dorcas as unhappy as the really loud people.
One time, James hadn't realised that Lily had a class after lunch, and he was basically begging for Lily to go out for drinks with him and their friends at the end of the day. Then Lily's students came into the room, only catching the part where James was asking for her to get drinks with just him. They teased him relentlessly for weeks after that.
Another time, James wanted to try his luck with Regulus after pining after him so long. But he couldn’t manage the build-up of the courage to do this in person, so he sent Regulus an email asking if he wanted to grab dinner with James. Regulus was teaching as he received the email and forgot to freeze the whiteboard before going to read it. The whole class saw the email and immediately burst out with laughter at the fact that James got caught flirting with another teacher again. Once again, James was teased relentlessly.
Whenever Evan or Regulus go to talk to Dorcas while she's speaking, they always speak in French to make the students paranoid that they're talking about them
Peter is arguably the second hardest working teacher behind Lily, but he never gets the recognition for it because he teaches German and not one of the core subjects.
#jegulily love triangle#regulus black#james potter#lily evans#marauders#marauders headcanon#marauders au#jegulus#jily#marylily#sirius black#remus lupin#wolfstar#mary macdonald#marlene mckinnon#dorlene#dorcas meadowes#pandora#evan rosier#barty crouch jr#peter pettigrew
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Barbarians can’t be gentle
Barbarian bakugo x reader
A/n HEYYYYYY, I did a poll to see what I should write about and right now, this was winning! So this is a one shot for you guys
barbarians can’t be gentle, that’s was literally every other person said when you told them you were getting married off to the barbarian tribe to strengthen your clans forces. They all looked at you with concern, pity, worry and for some even fear. The rumour spread quick that our leaders decided to marry you off, and people weren’t happy. Three days before the wedding, you were called by the leaders. They made you pack your backs and leave in the middle of the night to marry you off.
which brings you to now sitting inside a tent while many people fidgeted with your hair, clothes and face makeup. You sat emotionless, staring off at the wall “what’s wrong?” One of the people ask “huh? Nothing… nothing…” you said, trying to shake off the look of misery you had on your face “he’s very nice” one of the women said as she applied a white stripe to the left side of your cheek “no he’s not, he’s rude.” The man next to her said as he put stuff in your hair “shush you’ll make them scared!” The woman next to the both of them tried to shush them “who is nice or rude or whatever! Who is it.” You snapped at them, they all stopped bickering and turned to look at you “you… you don’t know who you’re marrying?” One woman asks “no!” You replied, and their faces said it all. Shock, surprise and mostly pity. This happens alot, people from other tribes and clans are Brought in to marry barbarian however this doesn’t end well and often results in the death of either partner, or someone running away. It never goes well.
people were surprised to see you when you left the plain tent to go to the wedding ceremony, you were very attractive by barbarian standards. They were hoping that your future husband would keep you around long enough, you still didn’t know who your future spouse was. All you knew was he was loud, and blonde, with a good sense of how to train a dragon (movie reference??). As you were ushered up the alter, you looked up to see a very angry looking young man, maybe 20 years old or maybe a little older? They placed you to be adjacent of him. The officiant was a short man who obviously has seen better years, probably around 70 years old. “Blah blah blah bakugo!” The man said, your husbands name was bakugo.. nice to know. “Do you take *name* to be your wife/husband/spouse” he smiles to bakugo like this was a love marriage “uh..” he said gruffly, and looked out at the crowd “yeah whatever i do” he tried to hurry it up “uh.. okay… *name!* do you take bakugo katsuki to be your husband?” You gulped and looked at him then at your feet “y-yeah I guess” “is that a i do?” “I do, I do”
that night you found yourself in the bed next to bakugo, he looked cuddly. But you knew he probably wouldn’t let you cuddle him “katsuki?” You called out to him “what?” He grumbled and pushed his face into some pillows “I know you don’t like… know me” “damn well I don’t know you” “okay let me finish.” You scoffed “I know you don’t know me, but to try and make this marriage a little more uh…. Tolerable.. can I try like… affection with you..?” You asked gently, to try and get him comfortable “no fuck off” “katsuki I’m trying to make this work” “UGHH FINE” he yelped like an annoying little baby. Gently you pulled him to lay in your arms, and ontop of you chest. His body between your legs as you played with his ash blonde hair; giving him a little head massage. “Comfy…?” You cooed and all you got was a raspy grumble back. You giggles “I’ll take that as a yes”
over the next few days he wasn’t that bad, while he was mostly gone during the day, at night it was just cuddles and late night talking. You learned he didn’t get along with his mother, his father was a submissive and not helpful during his childhood, that he was a good hunter, he believed in keeping smaller partners safe ect. This night you found yourself being his little spoon, his strong arms wrapped around your waist as he mumbled stuff with his face buried into your shoulder “my spouse……” he mumbled “yeah.. I’m your spouse” you said to him like he was a baby learning to talk. He giggled and then kept burying his face into your shoulder. “Maybe I do like you… just a little….”
who said barbarians can’t be gentle?
#barbarian bakugo x reader#barbarian bakugou#Barbarian bakugo#bakugo x you#bakugo x reader#bakugo x y/n#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo fluff#katsuki bakugo mha#fanfiction writer
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I hate you. You hate me. (Right?)
Miguel O'Hara x Gn!Black Cat Assassin!Reader
For my dear @hikaru-sama ILY POOKIE 🖤🖤 this was actually really fun to write!! Thank you for this idea!!
Synopsis/original request: "Assassin! Reader patching up Miguel when he gets hurt from his Spiderman shenanigans and Miguel patching up Reader when they get hurt on a mission. (They're also done with everyone's shit 😭😭)" Word count 1.5k
CW: BLOOD, ASSASSIN, MENTION OF KILLING, NEEDLE, STITCHES, INJURY, LIGHT ANGST, FLUFF, MILD VIOLENCE, READER HAS EMOTIONAL ISSUES
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You couldn't have predicted what life events would have led you to this rather unconventional career choice. But, with over a decade of bottled up anger, sense of vengeance, and satisfaction for beating folks up, it only seemed natural that you wound up as a hit person.
Black Cat Assassin for hire.
Because everyone knows you're in for bad luck when a black cat crosses your path. Or, something to that effect. Close enough to how the old superstition went, right? You're not sure, you came up with the marketing yourself. It's not easy running a one person band.
Offing people wasn't exactly difficult for you. You took out a couple woman beaters, corrupt public servants, people who abused their power and preyed on the vulnerable.
As long as the checks cleared and the hefty rent for your expensive penthouse could be made every month, you really didn't care.
And when this so called Green Goblin approached you about this next unlucky victim, you eyed the back of his head through your pair of binoculars clutched over your masked eyelids, blinking when you noticed it looked like he was shifting uncomfortably on the couch.
He appears to be injured, judging by the numerous pill bottles, large opened sudoku puzzle book, ice pack, and science documentary he had on, he definitely was.
Too easy.
---
Inside the large apartment, Miguel sucks in air through his teeth with muttered strings of cursings flying freely from his breath.
He broke his ass(not literally, a bruised coccyx) while fighting an anomaly.
Never answer your gizmo mid leap when you're trying to grapple to another side of a building, talons slipping and he came down with a crash. Despite being endowed with extra cushion back there, it did little to prevent the tender bruising that was causing him all sorts of discomfort for the time being.
Despite having a quicker healing ability than non-Spidey civilians, this injury sure was taking its sweet fucking time, making sure to rub salt in the wound while it was on its way out the door with its middle finger raised for good measure.
Between anomalies, his busted ass, his neighbors that sound like they're getting divorced on the floor above him, and the back to back spam notifications of that annoying group chat Pav and Hobie stuck him in, he is done with everyone's shit.
Miguel tries to get his mind off it with puzzles and scientific documentaries to no avail, until an unwelcome interruption slinks its way into his living room.
Crash.
You hiss as you dodge the lamp he chucks at you. A scowl on your face as you cower in the corner. That Green freak didn't tell you that your victim was a goddamn SPIDER UNIT and 6'9!?
Miguel smirks at this would be killer. You're smaller than him, and rather cute. Whoever hired you to be his masked killer really should make sure they signed a return policy, for this sad, sad attempt on his life you're currently making.
"Stop it, you." Miguel glares, lightly wincing at a silver of pain that runs through his backside. He stares at you with those cool red eyes. "Who are you?"
"Your worst nightmare." You spit back, unsheathing a pocket knife as you start to gallop towards him, wielding the blade.
Miguel groans in annoyance but skillfully weaves around you, dodging the jabs of your weapon. He can't help but let a giggle escape with how frustrated you're getting when none of them land.
"Hold still, you bastard!" You growl, pausing momentarily to catch your breath. You hadn't exactly rehearsed for this. Usually these things don't take very long. And he's just not cooperating.
"Cat has claws." Miguel smirks.
Now, why is he looking at you like that. The rugged charm of his smile disarms you, but only momentarily when you snap back into kill mode, smug look quickly smeared off his face when you pounce.
"Hey!"
He smirks again from above you as you writhe and squirm in his hold on the ground as he tries to wiggle the knife from your gloved hand. You screech and he gasps as the knife crashes a short distance away.
Miguel looks down at you, eyes widening when he sees the deep, red gash in your arm that's begun to bleed. You shoot him a glare, then your attention turns to the oozing wound he's staring at.
You softly whimper, a shaky hand coming to stifle the blood flow, hissing again when Miguel grabs your forearm.
"Don't touch it." He says firmly. You pout cutely back at him and he can't help the corner of his mouth that turns upwards again. "Can the angry cat put their claws away for 5 minutes while I patch you up?"
And so, you twitched as you sat in front of him on the couch, a strangled growl escaping you each time his needle plunged through the ripped skin. Piecing you back little by little. He takes notice of your grumped expression and casually asks you some more questions, but not about why you came here today to wipe him out, trying to keep the conversation light so as not to set off your hair trigger temper once again.
You turn your nose up at him at first, then when he remarks that his co-workers don't understand what quiet mode means on his watch, proceeding to blow it up anyway so he had a million pointless memes to scroll through when he turned it off, you take that as invitation start opening up about your gripes with life in general.
How your landlord is a douche and likes to nickel and dime you for everything, how Nueva York's skyrocketing rent is a problem, how your cousin won't return your air fryer they keep borrowing, how adulthood sucks and that you ended up turning to a life of crime just to put food on the table and deal with your anger issues instead of going to therapy. How you, too, are done with everyone's shit.
Miguel listens, a faint trace of amusement trying to poke its way onto his face. You were definitely a criminal, but a misguided one. Maybe you could redirect your moral compass if you only had the right set of cards in front of you and the right person to steer you back. Miguel realizes he's letting his mind get ahead of him and tries to shake it off.
"So, you broke your butt?" You try not to snicker at the doctor's note you can't help but nosily read that's on his coffee table.
"Bruised coccyx." Miguel corrects, wincing as he shifts his position before he resumes stitching you up.
"Well, there's your problem, silly. You're not even using your donut they gave you."
Before he can protest, you reach across the couch, opening up the box for the prescription donut, noticing it's an inflatable. Miguel's expression softens as you take it out, slowly blowing it up for him while he continues stitching your arm. The longest glimpse he's gotten all throughout this strange encounter of this kind nature you had that you hid deep down.
He allows you to continue inflating it, while he pieces you back together in silence. Both turning your full attention to the new documentary that starts to play on his TV about genetics in cats. A topic that particularly piques your interest in light of your assassin moniker and costume choice, to his faint amusement.
At the conclusion of your stitches and his seating doughnut and fresh ice pack, you clear your throat, not exactly used to niceties given your rough reputation.
"So, uh, thanks for the stitches, Spidey." You pause. "I'm still supposed to kill you though."
Miguel chuckles, shifting his weight on his doughnut, the ache under much better control now thanks to your assistance. "Go right ahead."
He leans back, knowing damn well that attempt number two is going to have the same outcome as the first.
"Stop doing that." You grumble in humiliation, turned away with a sigh.
"What?" Miguel hums, still satisfied at your inability to do the job and in his rightful place on top.
"Stop making me like you."
Miguel pauses, unsure of what you mean. If you're even alluding to that, then he's gotta shut it down now. I mean, you did try and kill him. You're a criminal no matter how you slice it. He changes the subject away from what he really was about to say in response to your last statement.
"I still need to turn you into the police."
You slink away, heart a little stabbed at the humanity he showed you for the past hour or two, only to rip it away when you saw he truly just viewed you as a delinquent.
Instead of a victim of circumstance, just set on the wrong path with poor coping skills for the shitty hand you were dealt, leaping out of the window before he can stop you.
Miguel goes to yell "Wait!" but you're already well on your way, a brief glimpse of a shooting blur of black and white as you effortlessly glide away, a faint sense of admiration for you in his heart he knows that he's not going to forget all too easily.
His attention is turned to a strange piece of paper on his coffee table he didn't recognize before, lips turning into a smile when he sees your phone number scribbled across it.
----
@1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer
🐈⬛
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#atsv miguel#miguel x reader#miguel atsv#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara fluff#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel x you
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re: the ableism in Dot and Bubble
I understand it almost certainly wasn't Rusty's intention for the "can't walk without the arrows" thing to be ableist, but the implications are there and it was so, so hard to watch.
As I said while liveblogging, I've noted that reliance on tech like Google Maps has caused a regression in skills like navigation and a frustrating refusal to even try. I'm frequently faced with that fact as I live somewhere you have to use your eyes to see and most fast food delivery drivers just Cannot Find Us bc the GPS goes wild and they can't follow the directions I always give them so I inevitably have to go out to find them myself. Believe me, I know what he was going for with that part of the script.
However.
When you exaggerate that point to the tune of "she literally cannot walk" without the aid, and then instead of it being deeply disturbing to the two 'kind, helpful' characters (Doc n Ruby), they actively roll their eyes at her and it's played as an "omg how stupid is she" moment, you have to see how that looks.
Let's reframe it: someone you've met was raised in a cult. A very insular, very strict cult that they literally have never seen outside of. At this point in time you know nothing about them but you do know they're in a very insular, very closed-off society. One day they tell you they have no idea how to,,,,,, idk, wash themselves without assistance. If your first instinct is to laugh at them and roll your eyes like they're overexaggerating, you're an ableist.
I struggle to believe anyone like the Doctor wouldn't perhaps initially react with confusion/incredulity but then, after realising this person is 100% serious, go "oh my god that's horrible okay uh let me try to walk you through this and teach you how".
It's a horrible, cynical response that would maybe track if at this point the characters already knew she was an entitled pissbaby. But they don't and that's why it comes across so terribly.
Especially when there's no indication that this is a side-effect of her entitlement and she's literally insulting herself "I'm so stupid!" and genuinely upset and frustrated that she can't even walk in the face of actual death. And yes, she miraculously can walk again once she meets Ricky but it wasn't because she was ignoring the Doctor's advice because racism because he had not given her any. She had literally zero clue how to walk without assistance until Ricky guided her.
This isn't a refusal to learn a skill based on entitlement, this isn't a heavy-handed metaphor, you have given this girl a disability (even if it is psychosomatic, it is still a disability).
And in a time where social media + youth entitlement is being blamed for an increase of ADHD, Autism, chronic illness and DID diagnosis-seekers (among other things, but those are the ones people are most aggressive against) that just does not look good At All.
Russel could easily have made it so that they just had no idea how to navigate without the bubble and refused to learn.
Maybe at first show it as genuine frustration on Lindy's part that she can't find anything without guidance but slowly show that no, she's perfectly capable, she just doesn't care to learn.
Hell, you could have everything play out the same way but have her genuinely get offered help to begin with by the Doctor and ignore it, only for Ricky to say the same thing to her later and she gets it immediately.
Idk, anything beyond literally disabling her. The show does a great job at humanising her before showing us that she was a monster all along, but I feel like Rusty himself forgot that he was still representing a Whole Entire Person (something that people on all ends of the political spectrum do All The Time: "person is bad therefore [___ism] is okay in this instance". Ableism especially)
#doctor who#dw#dw spoilers#dot and bubble#ableism#rtd critical#idk it was a good episode for the allegory it was mostly going for#but once again RTD has neglected the minorities he isn't explicitly thinking about#and it's not entirely his fault because he IS trying and he IS improvving#but he is SO white and able bodied and cis and old#and it reflects in his writing#this episode *needed* a guest writer so badly#or at least sensitivity checks#bc it's clear they don't have that even just from the heavy use of ableist slurs in the Unleashed ep
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YAYY!! Reqs are open again! I know you’ve already done something similar but can you do maybe some hcs of Graysons mental if that makes sense (like anxiety, depression, schizophrenia) only if you feel comfortable ofc <3
sad grayson head canons pt. 2
of course! i wont be talking about schizophrenia though bc i don't know enough about it and i don't feel comfortable talking about smth knowing i might be writing things that are completely inaccurate and that might offend/hurt some people. i apologize if these suck or if this is really short. when i made this post, i had just found out someone in my family was in the hospital and i wrote these to distract me so idk how good they'll be. not all of these will be on anxiety and depression btw. tw for suicidal thoughts. hope you still like them <3.
when he swims at night, the pool tends to be very cold bc its the one of the only things that makes him forgot about everything that is making him anxious. if he can't swim, he takes cold showers.
although it might not look like it, he gets very anxious and overwhelmed in situations where there are a lot of people. he overthinks everything he says to them, wonders if his suit looks nice enough/if he's presentable, if he's making a good impression, and has trouble focusing when there are so many people he has to talk too. he's very good at hiding it though so you would never guess (like i said, multiple people, if its just one person it doesn't matter to him)
like i said in my last hc, he gets anxious when talking to many people. i want to add that usually, its not usually himself that makes himself anxious but emily talking in his head telling him he's doing smth wrong. basically, if it weren't for emily, he wouldn't be anxious talking to so many people. idk if this one makes sense.
one of the reasons he wears suits is bc it makes him feel put together when he feels like a mess in his head. he always looks so flawless which makes people think he's fine.
he went through a period of time when he was younger where he couldn't get out of bed to go to school/do his school work which ig seems ooc, but we're talking about young grayson here, not the put together version of him we know. he hated himself so bad he didn't think it was worth living anymore and thought that there was no point in working if he wasn't going to live long enough to get a career/become an adult. also, another reason was bc he felt sm pressure to be the best that he kind of just gave up. tobias got mad at him and thought he was overreacting. he did get better thanks to his brothers, enough for him to start doing his school work again and start handling the pressure he was under.
he's very self-conscious about his appearance. by this i don't mean looking put together, i mean sometimes he'll look in the mirror and think he's gained weight which makes him workout more/swim. its not that he finds himself ugly, he just doesn't want people to notice and think something's wrong/he's going through something when he obviously is (cause in his head, if he doesn't always look the same, people will think smth's wrong/he's loosing control but thats just not true).
he used to have bad acne growing up and it really affected his confidence. he used to try to cover it up with concealer but no matter what he did it was always visible. it ended up going away but he hates looking at old pictures of himself cause he hates seeing it. it caused him really bad anxiety in public bc he thought people were judging him.
sometimes, people will try to talk to him but he won't hear them bc he can't stop stressing over all of the things he has to do and is stuck in his head. people have to repeat what they're saying and and shake him to get him out of spiraling.
grayson tried to stop taking his anti depressants when he was younger cause he was sure he didn't need them. he realized not long after that he couldn't just stop and that they were actually helping him.
after he realized they were helping him, he started to wonder why he couldn't be 'normal' like his other brothers (at the time, he didn't know his brothers were also struggling with their own issues)
to handle his anxiety when he was younger, he would punch a punching bag. this was before he learned how to handle his anger and stuff. he only allowed himself to lose control when doing this.
his room and office have to be clean at all times. if it isn't, it causes him even more anxiety. it makes him feel messy and not in control.
his grand father used to tell him that hawthornes don't have mental illnesses and that he's overreacting (stupid ass grand father). it made grayson feel like he wasn't good enough.
after avery almost died during the bombing, he considered offing himself bc he didn't think he was worth it. he let one of the people he cares most about almost die, and the guilt was nearly too much for him.
grayson used to feel like he shouldn't be struggling the way he is bc of all of the opportunities and money he has. he felt like his feelings weren't valid, and that others had it worse. he tought he had no reason to feel as crappy as he did and that made him hate himself/think there was smth wrong with him. it only made him feel more depressed.
sometimes, he'd go on the rooftop of the house to get some air, see the height and the deadly fall, and consider jumping off. he used to think everyone was better off without him and that he'd be doing everyone a favor by offing himself.
in my first sad grayson post, i said that he owns a teddy bear nash gave him. he'll never admit it, but when he feels really anxious and like his world is crumbling down, he cuddles with it. it's one of the only things that actually helps him calm down. it also helps when he has a panic attack, he grabs it and holds it against his chest to relax (it also helps him sleep). the only one who knows about all of this is nash.
his anxiety tends to get worse during the winter cause he can't swim in the outdoor pool. its one of his most effective coping mechanisms. swimming in their indoor pool isn't the same according to him.
he used to hate christmas bc people would get him gifts he didn't think he deserved. he loved the gifts he'd receive but thought that people shouldn't be spending their money on him and that others were more worthy.
he used to see a therapist on and off for a while (in secret) when he was younger but would always end up stopping after his grandfather found out and told him he was wasting the therapist's time. he finally starts seeing a therapist consistently in his mid-20s (so after tgg and stuff).
#the inheritance games#grayson hawthorne#jameson hawthorne#avery grambs#nash hawthorne#xander hawthorne
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Top 3 Victims of Getting Whipped by Jamil Viper's Long and Luscious Hair
i wanted to get the gunk from not-writing out before i go back to my pressing wips and i was thinking of how i used to get hit in the face by my friends with long hair…hence these crack hcs.
content warnings:
-this is crack. this is unserious. (couldn't help myself from hinting at angst. but this entire post is unserious, dw)
-unbeta’d, all mistakes are mine.
-im okay with this being rb’d and tagged as ship (then in that case this counts as pre-slash if you squint?)
word count: 771
3.) Ace Trappola
Nearly took out his eye, those damn braids.
Okay, maybe he's exaggerating. Just a little bit. Then it’s back to business and completing this Alchemy worksheet early!
(Ace is a bit dramatic in that moment, only if it means that he gets to tick off one of his more put-together upperclassmen)
Maybe that’s on him for trying to put on the eager underclassman act (If only to get Jamil to do the brunt of the work for this joint class)
No, he’s not trying to get on Jamil’s good side. Don’t get it twisted. That guy is unbribable. (So Ace thinks, little does he know he’s going about it the wrong way.)
And while one can say that he’s learned his lesson, it doesn’t stop the occasional accident from happening.
And, well, it’s just funny to surprise Jamil. Aside from throwing a fake roach onto his gym bag, that gets boring really fast.
(So Ace says, but he likes to milk the 0.5 seconds of concern. He’s a little brother. It’s an easy way to get some attention drama around here.)
2.) Floyd Leech
Jamil's usually diligent enough to make sure his hair is secured during basketball training. But on a day where Floyd feels like putting in effort…
Well, things get messy. more than the usual amount of chaos that comes with team scrimmages.
And in Jamil’s quick pivot, one thing leads to another, you know.
More than being hurt, Floyd was: Surprised.
And secondly, he notices: Huh, Jamil's hair smells good.
A normal person would ask what products Jamil uses
Floyd’s intrusive thoughts, on the other hand, are like, “yo... what if we took a bite though?”
(0.5 seconds elapsed, we are working in bullet time for those last internal thoughts^^)
And it’s very hard to resist a prospect like that when you also throw in the shininess of Jamil's hair ornaments to the mix.
Cue remix of Beansfest: Hounding Jamil Pt. 2 Electric Boogaloo
(On his low energy days, Floyd doesn’t care. On his bad low-energy days, he’ll yank at the offending braid.)
Either way, Jamil already knows to give Floyd a wide berth on default. That’s why he’s relatively low on this list.
Honorable mention to Azul Ashengrotto
Well, it's only happened twice.
But the guy was changed after those incidents. (Epiphany?? Revelation??)
Maybe the first time he got stunned into silence from getting hit was a fluke, but then it happened again.
And once again, total silence.
(Is Azul supposed to feel appalled? Is this blackmail material? How can he spin this into a surefire conversation to rope Jamil into Octavinelle once and for all? *insert bluescreen noises*)
Jamil’s stopped feeling bad about it when the initial embarrassment wears off.
If Azul gets smacked across the face and loses his glasses, that’s on him. Jamil’s speedwalking away from the crime scene, call that plausible deniability.
Unlike certain people on this list, Azul’s conscientious enough to respect Jamil’s physical boundaries
(For the most part. Sometimes Azul gets too into his “Benevolent Housewarden” persona—it’s the untapped Theater Kid Energy in him—that it could happen a third time.)
1.) (Are we even surprised?)
It's Kalim al-Asim!
When they're at class, when they're going to the school store, even at the safety of the dorm.
(Who knew Kalim had the capacity for stealth when he’s not wearing any of his usual jewelry or accessories? Has Jamil been belling him like a cat?)
It has to happen at least once a day, so decrees the law of the universe
Maybe it’s a consequence of Kalim’s lack of personal boundaries.
(Well, after the events of Book 4, I could say something angsty about that but that can be its own post. This is supposed to be a lighthearted crack scenario)
The worst of it probably had to be during VDC rehearsals. Especially when they were getting the formations down.
Ace has made a tally of each time it has happened, Rook has confirmed the numbers. It cannot be denied any longer, there is Objective Statistical Proof.
Congratulations, Kalim! Here’s a hastily-made certificate of recognition! (Vil would sermon them for goofing off, but he can indulge in some levity. It’s the night before the performance. It’s better than seeing them nervous.)
Kalim’s confused about the makeshift award, but it’s ok, his default response to 97% of things is good-natured laughter.
Jamil on the other hand is done. He wants to sleep. (But, when you compare it with the stress of their initial rehearsals, this kind of situation doesn’t seem so bad. He’ll never admit that out loud though.)
a/n: anyway happy pride jamil, the guy with the most gender, i wudve wanted to give u a harem but my brain said to torment u at ur expense oops (i've had this wip since april, can u believe? omagah) i wasn't sure how to format a post with multiple characters (oh my god icb this is my first twst post that doesn't feature only jamil 🗿🗿) anyway, i hope this was entertaining a read!💕💕
#dellet-writings#twisted wonderland#twst#twst headcanons#twisted wonderland headcanons#twst crack#jamil viper#floyd leech#ace trappola#azul ashengrotto#kalim al asim#could be pre-slash if u wanna read it that way
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1/2- Sorry if this is a weird ask. You're a person of sincere faith who doesn't judge and I'm desperate for outside opinions. I've recently learned that many modern tarot readers don't believe in divination or spirits, but rather that the images on the cards can help us think about things and bring out deeper ideas from our own subconscious. Zero future telling, only for self reflection. That sounds ok to me, and using the cards for visio divina has done really good things for my prayer life.
2/2- But still I worry- what if the more conservative types are right and all use of the cards is bad? What if it's displeasing to God? I beg and pray but I can't seem to find any peace or inner sense of guidance on the topic. Can you please pray for me, and share any wisdom you might have about this? Thank you so much.
Hello, beloved--I don't think this is weird at all! There's so much fearmongering among Christians about things being Satanic or pagan or whatever else, and it's important to not give into that panic while also taking our faith seriously.
None of the people I know who have been interested in tarot do it as a religious or really even spiritual practice--for most of them, it's been a fun thing, like getting your fortune read at a county fair, and it's not something to "believe in" so much as do and think about. I also know people who, as you said, find it useful for reflection, usually for finding new ways of looking at things. I'm not scared of tarot, and I don't think it's demonic.
Christian history is full of things like opening your Bible to a random page to see what God has in store for you or protecting yourself from evil spirits or saying a certain prayer so that a saint will do something for you. Everyone has these superstitious instincts, to find stories in chance, to not waste the few things that are in our control. I don't think there's inherent evil there--evil comes when we trust these things more than God, when we look in our own actions more than God's, when we think we can know the full story, when we try to pin God down. And I don't think superstition with Christian wrappings is any less superstitious, or any more truthful, to be honest.
A lot of people fearmongering about stuff like this are scared about where it might lead--that you'll end up somewhere chanting around a human sacrifice. And of course there are people who start with harmless religious experiences and end up in evil places--lots of Christians go to a potluck and end up believing in prosperity gospel and putting their kids in conversion therapy. But I don't hear you in danger of abandoning God or of harming anyone. And any religious practice can go too far, no matter how pure its roots. What you bring to the practice makes up most of whether you are reaching out toward God with it, and we can balance it with other traditions and other impulses.
In case someone's using the Bible to scare you: what the Bible tells us about fortune-telling/magic/communing with spirits is from a very specific Ancient Israelite perspective that I'm not qualified to unpack, but we don't find it an applicable worldview today. We have different ideas of how to live in community with other religions, and religious practices serve very different functions. We don't follow Ancient Israelite cultic practices--nor do modern Jewish people, for that matter. Christian practice has developed in the past two millennia in so many directions, and barely any of it would be recognizable to the Biblical authors. I obviously trust that God gave us these writings for a reason, and am not saying to ignore them--we can find useful ideas, but not a rule book.
The tarot deck most people know was created in 1909 by an occult secret society, who used symbols from Christianity and astrology. I think it's misguided to find truth in them as they exist, but neither do I think they're inherently evil--they're archetypes, stories. They're just human. I find occult secret societies generally more silly than demonic--although there is lots of racism/cultural appropriation in their histories. I respect those who avoid tarot based on its origins, just as I respect those who won't do yoga because it's a Hindu practice. But so many things come from non-Christian origins, and we cannot throw away the world if we want to live in community with it. (Yes, we are called to be set apart from the world as Christians, but also to love it--there is the line we must walk.)
There is real Biblical precedent for avoiding a practice associated with things outside of your faith--ancient Israelite religion was very concerned with these associations. Paul did not think meat that had originally been offered to pagan gods was sinful to eat, but basically advised people not to eat it because of how it would affect others or perhaps normalize idol worship. These are things we're continually navigating, and in any Christian community you're gonna have to be clear where your faith lies and probably answer some questions. I think it's a good thing that we're called to be purposeful, and to be aware how our actions affect others.
So my general advice would be to really think about it, to do it all purposefully, paying attention to how it affects your life, relationships, and practice, and whether it's bringing you to the life you know God wants from you (one of love). But this sounds like what you're already doing! I think you care more about this than most people I know, and you're coming to God genuinely--these are gifts.
Prayer is sensory, story-filled, interactive. It's a way of moving through the world. You say this has done good things for your prayer life, and I believe you. Contemplation is a major Christian prayer tradition. Anything can give us a new perspective, anything can shove us toward the truth. You're not causing harm, and neither are you abandoning your faith. There are other people navigating the same things as you--Contemplative Tarot is a book by a Catholic tarot practitioner, and it looks really interesting. I know people who have made their own tarot cards, and I wonder what that would look like with more intentional Christian symbolism/stories, even saints. Sometimes I pick a random prayer card to say--this is coincidence, and while it's not something I'm depending on, it does affect how my day goes.
Don't fall for anything or anyone that claims to know the ultimate truth, don't fall for the people who say that tarot has ancient Egyptian/kabbalah roots, don't fall for people who are just selling you things, don't believe anyone who tells you the truth is inside you if they aren't making clear that it's God that's living there, don't base your entire religious practice on something like this. But don't throw away a way of looking at things if God has led you through it. Don't put your life in the hands of cards, but move through your life with stories and new perspectives and contemplation. God's mercies are new every morning.
I don't know if I've given you peace--maybe just more questions. The good news is, you don't have to figure it all out now, and the bad news is you'll never figure it all out. Religious practice is a continuous dialogue and negotiation with the world. I have faith in you, and in the ways God is moving in your life. Bring Jesus with you, wherever you end up--he'll come regardless, of course, but see it happening. A man with a sword or a cup doesn't know your future, nor is he doing anything--but you know that. You're seeing more of the story, you're contemplating the wonders of God, you know the swords and cups that matter, and they are present with you, and seeing them everywhere is a gift.
Something my mother says before I start anything new, or go anywhere important--what she said when I went to the psych ward, and on the first days of school, and when I go to a protest--is "remember your baptism." I think my grandfather said it to her, too. I don't know whether you've been formally baptized, but remember your calling. Remember the beginning of your journey, and why you're still on it, and how you're being a representative of it. Remember your baptism, whatever that means to you. We have been marked with the cross of Christ forever.
<3 Johanna
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