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#this idea was living in my brain rent free so i had to write it out
loser-jpg · 1 year
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"Ouch." 
"Hold still and it won't hurt as much." 
Eddie Munson was sitting on the counter in his bathroom, and in front of him was one Steve Harrington. Normally a situation like this would intrigue anyone, but considering the black eye and the blood dripping down his face, Eddie wasn't as excited as he may normally be. 
"Actually it wouldn't hurt at all if you hadn't decided to get in a fight with that asshole." 
Steve was doing his best to clean up Eddies face, but a very squirmy Eddie was not helping the situation. 
"I didn't even start it, he said shit so I insulted him back. He just happened to think with his fists rather than his words." 
"You instigated that fight and you know it." 
"I won didn't I? OW!" 
"I don't think this is the face of a winner." 
Steve stepped away from Eddie, giving up on helping any more than he had. In all honesty he was right, that was not the face of a winner. 
"What no kiss to make it better?" Eddie pointed to the small gash on his forehead, and although he didn't expect anything he was pleasantly surprised when Steve took a step toward him before reluctantly leaning downward to plant a kiss near the injury. 
"Better?" 
"...hurts here too." Eddie pointed to his cheek, it didn't actually hurt there but surprise and intrigue pushed him to see how far he could go with this bit. 
And just like before Steve leaned down to plant a kiss on his cheek, though this one lingered maybe half a second longer than the other. 
"Now?"
He should have stopped there, lucky enough to get not one but two kisses from Steve Harrington, but Eddie was feeling extra brave today so after a second of staring up at Steves face he slowly brought his hand up and pointed toward his lips. 
He really should have stopped there but goddamnit, he had Steve Harrington in front of him there and oh my god he was leaning in again. 
Eddies brain practically short circuited as Steve gently brought a hand to the side of his face and gave him the most gentle, butterflies-in-the-stomach kiss he had ever gotten. 
"Now does it hurt?" 
"N-no." 
And with that he was walking away. Steve Harrington, who had just kissed Eddie because he asked, was walking away like nothing happened. 
Holy shit.
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lilisettean · 4 months
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Glittering Scales | Rafayel/Reader
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About: You didn't know what to expected when Rafayel texted you to get him bags of ice near midnight. You thought it was for some art piece he was working on and didn't question it. Turns out, it was for something you did not expect. At all.
Pairing: Rafayel/Reader
Notes: Based on that mermen having 2.... you know.... tweet.
AO3: Read here!
Warnings: Mating, Monster(?)fucking, Tentacle, No protection, Hints of breeding. Please tell me if I missed something! Also 18+ only please. Enjoy :)
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“Rafayel?”
Your voice echoed throughout the empty studio. Normally Rafayel would be here to greet you, be it from the floor or on the ladder he sat on while painting. But today he was nowhere to be found.
A faint splash of water down the hallway alerted you to his presence. With a sigh, you followed the sound, your bare feet breaking the quiet that descended upon the studio. 
‘Is he painting while in the bathtub again?’ You thought as you carried bags of ice under your arms and in your hands. After going radio silent for a week, he texted you out of nowhere, asking you to get him enough ice to last him for a few days. And while you had half a mind to ask him why and where he had been, curiosity got the best of you and you agreed readily.
Another splash brought you out of your thoughts, and you sighed at what sounded to be impatient flicks of his tail against the water.
“Coming! Coming, jeez–”
The sight of Rafayel sitting in the bathtub, his tail hanging out the edge of it, greeted you. Small puddles of water dotted the tiled floor, his phone lay haphazardly on top of the pile of clothes next to the bathtub. Oddly enough, his painting equipment was nowhere to be found. 
Despite having seen his merman form– his original form, you should say, multiple times before, the shimmering blue scales that were on his tail and his skin always enthralled you. And under soft moonlight shining through the full length windows, it looked as though they glowed, drawing you in.
Before you could lift a hand to touch the scales on his tail however, he flicked it, smacking your thigh and dousing your pants with water.
“What took you so long? I am on the verge of death!”
“I had to go around and buy these for you! Why do you need them anyway?” You huffed as you set the bags of ice you bought down to the side. It was almost midnight when his text came and you had to scramble to get at least a few bags for him, lest it wasn’t enough for… whatever he’s doing. The nerve. Pinning him with a stern look, to which he innocently blinked in response, you continued.
“And you don’t get to talk! What took you so long to text me back? You were unreachable for the entire week!”
If it weren’t for the fact that you arrived back in Linkon city mere hours ago, you would’ve gone and visited him as soon as he dropped off the face of the Earth. Rafayel would never go a day without calling you at least once, so when he suddenly did not reply to any of your texts or answer any calls, you knew something was deeply wrong.
Noticing that you were eyeing him critically, he turned away from your gaze, hoping you wouldn’t pick up on anything irregular. But unfortunately for him, you did.
“Are you sick? Why does your face look so red?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you leaned closer to inspect him. You thought it would be impossible for the blush that stained his cheeks to intensify even further, but it did. If anything, it looked like it spread to his ears too.
“Yes– Well, not really but I…” He stuttered, his usual nonchalant demeanor nowhere to be found. To you, it seemed like he was avoiding any sort of eye and skin contact. Interesting.
With a long suffering sigh, he looked towards you again, his eyes pleading. “Please just give me the ice. It’s too hot.”
“Only if you tell me what’s wrong.” You countered, but still tore open the bags anyway. He sighed in contentment the moment the ice came contact with his higher than what should be normal skin temperature. The ice that settled on his skin and his scales would soon melt and you idly wondered if you had to buy more when morning came.
‘There’s a store about 15 minutes away, maybe I should–’ A soft mumble from him interrupted your train of thought. “What did you say?”
Despite you prompting him, it took him another minute before he repeated his words.
“It’s… mating season.”
It took a few more moments before his words registered in your mind. Mating season, he said. What does that have to do with– Oh.
“Oh. And you’re…” Your eyes darted down, not so subtly wondering where his cock would be when in his original form. Nothing out of the ordinary– and was that ironic, saying that there was a merman in front of you ordinary– caught your eye.
To you, anyway. To him, however… 
Rafayel drew in a stuttered breath, desperately grasping at the shards of sanity that were slipping away from him. You being unaware of the details pertaining to merman physiology and mating rituals was making him antsy. He should’ve explained the differences between his original form and his human form a long time ago, yet couldn’t as the otherworldliness of it might scare you off. He knew you wouldn’t run away so easily but that apprehensiveness stayed because what if…?
Despite all of this, he couldn’t help but preen under your appreciation for his scales. Merpeople took great care maintaining their scales, and mermen in particular would show off theirs during mating season to attract attention from their intended.
You, being his intended, who was now perched on the edge of the bathtub, touching and admiring his scales, would be interpreted as acceptance to the mating ritual. But there was no ritual, nor request from him, so it was all null and void. He pointedly ignored the disappointment that seeped into his gut. This was for the best and for your own good, he thought, and yet–
“Do you… want me to help you?” You asked as you traced the edges of his scales, not catching the hitch in his breath when your fingers trailed further and further up his tail.
“I’d rather not. My physiology is not what you’d expect.” 
“And let you sit here for days on end?” 
“...” Rafayel bit his lip. You had a point. The constant neediness brought by his biology made it difficult for him to focus on anything of note. But what if you rejected him once you saw what was in store for you? It would feel like that day all those years ago all over again, when you didn’t remember him despite him spending so much time looking for you.
He shook his head at that. No, he should have more faith in you. And so with much trepidation, he relented. “If you are that determined, I won’t stop you. But…” He trailed off, grabbing your arm and yanked you towards him, causing water to splash out of the bathtub and onto the floor. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“At least let me take my clothes off–”
“No need.” With a snap of his fingers, his flame Evol materialized and he brought the gentle flame to your clothes. And within seconds, every piece of clothing on you burned away, leaving you exposed to the warm summer’s night air. 
“Rafayel!” It always tickled whenever he did that, a fancy trick he liked to use whenever he felt particularly impatient. “How long were you…?”
“Long enough.” He replied, leaning back against the bathtub to let you get used to your new position. You were straddling him, your hips sat upon the upper half of his tail. While the water both of you were submerged in was cold, icy almost, the heat from his body warmed you.
A spot on Rafayel’s tail piqued your curiosity. It was warm and softer to the touch, unlike other places. You reached down to lightly poke at said spot, only for him to hiss in warning. 
Oh. Was that where– Then how–
You prodded that spot for a bit, carefully watching Rafayel’s face while figuring out how his merman form worked. He stared right back at you, his pupils dilated and his lips parted as he watched you with interest.
“Rafayel? Can you give me that ability to breathe underwater for a moment? I want to try something…”
He arched his eyebrow at your sudden request, but didn’t comment. Wordlessly, he pulled you closer and into a kiss, wrapping an arm around your torso while tucking a few stray strands of hair that fell on your face.
A simple, chaste kiss was more than enough to give you the ability needed to breath underwater for an hour. And yet he cannot bring himself to pull away from you. If anything, he cannot stop kissing you, cannot stop his tongue from prying your lips open and pushing against yours. 
It was only when you needed air that you parted from him, albeit reluctantly. Like his, your face was flushed from the heat and the intensity of the kiss, fueling the growing fire that was threatening to take over within him.
Now equipped with the ability you needed, you shuffled away from him and dived under the cold water both of you sat in. Faintly, you could hear him ask what your goal was, but you only grinned in response.
Over water, his scales looked as though they were shimmering, glinting softly under the lights. But seeing them underwater was another story. They looked iridescent, the water around them making them almost dreamlike in its shine. But as pretty as they were, you were on a mission. A mission to see what Rafayel was hiding from you.
You poked the same soft spot that was on the front of his tail, and with a bit of prodding, you found a well hidden slit between his scales.
‘This must be it then.’ You thought as you brushed over the slit, missing the shuddered breath Rafayel had let out. You dipped a finger into the slit, and found something round– the tip, perhaps– poking at your fingertip.
You circled your fingertip around the head, coaxing it to come forward. And slowly, you feel it inch closer and closer to the opening, with warm slick coating your fingertips before dissipating into the water.
Rafayel sighed as you teased the tip of his cock, if he was in his human form he would’ve been fully hard by now. But he was in his original form, his apprehension to your eventual surprise eating at him, causing him to be slower to react. That didn’t stop his neediness to take over though, as he could feel himself getting closer and closer to revealing himself by the minute.
He was about to ask if you were doing alright, until he felt your lips on his slit. He tossed his head back, groaning at your tongue teasing his opening and his tip. He could feel his cock pushing through his slit, widening it and protruding into your more than eager mouth.
You gasped when you tasted his salty, tangy tip in your mouth. While it tasted the same as his human form, the tip was smoother and coated with more precome than you expected.
The similarities between his human form’s cock and his original form ended there, you quickly realized. As soon as more of his cock emerged from his sheath and into your waiting mouth, you felt there were ridges on the side of it. Fleetingly, you wondered as you dragged your tongue across the ribbed sides, whether there were more surprises waiting for you. This cannot be it, right? There had to be more which would explain his visible apprehension.
As soon as that thought ended though, Rafayel suddenly cradled your chin, and coaxed you to resurface. 
Unlike earlier, when he still looked like he had some semblance of control, his stormy purple eyes were now focused, pinning you in place as though you were his prey. The nervousness that was evident before was now gone, replaced with a growing hunger. Hunger that could be only satisfied by having–
“You.” He panted, pulling you closer and closing the too wide gap between you and him. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Merpeople… My people mate for life. There will be no going back after this.” He stated, doing his best to ignore his growing cock poking at your inner thigh. He had to warn you before you walk into uncharted territory, clueless to the repercussions again. While this was not life threatening, like the things you usually run head into first, it was severe enough wherein if you had denied the bond that formed afterwards, it would tear him apart.
“I think we are past that point of no return, no? With all the vows I’ve made to you.” You replied as you tucked away the damp strands of hair that clung to his forehead, pressing a reassuring kiss on his temple. And that was true. The promise you made when you two were children, the vow you made next to the hospital fountain late at night. You promised you would never leave his side, so why would you leave now?
Rafayel laughed in relief, burying his face between your breasts as he clung to you. With the emotional hurdle out of the way, what was left was the more physical hurdle. Unlike before, however, he felt less worried about this one now.
“I hope you are prepared then.” He smiled as he littered quick kisses all over your decollete, inching closer to your neck and then your lips. “Because after this…”
“I will never let you go.”
Rafayel captured your lips with his once more, the kiss slow but all the more passionate. With his worries soothed, he slotted his emerging cock against your mound, wanting you to feel the effect you had on him as you kissed.
It wasn’t long before the kisses turned less than chaste. You gasped as he left open mouthed kisses down your neck, suckling on the skin beneath his lips as he thrusted his cock against you. The bumps on the underside of his shaft rubbed and teased your clit perfectly, and you couldn’t help but return the favor by shifting your hips to his rhythm, making him grow thicker and thicker by the moment.
You had a feeling that his cock wasn’t just ribbed while you grinded against him. You can’t exactly explain why, other than there were parts of his shaft that felt… softer to the touch, despite knowing that he’s turned on beyond relief.
“Rafayel–” 
“Mmh?” He hummed as his mouth left another love bite on your neck, pausing to admire his handiwork.
“Can I… Will you let me see it?” You asked, reaching down to drag a finger across his tip. He shuddered at your touch, and you felt his cock twitch in interest. It seemed that his drive to mate was slowly taking over, as all he could muster was a nod.
With his permission, you tore away from him, giggling when he whined at the loss of contact. You reassured him with a quick kiss to his cheek, and dodge his clingy hands when you retreated. Inhaling one deep, steadying breath, you steeled yourself, and looked down.
Oh. Oh. 
Was that a sight to behold.
Through the clear water, you saw his cock in its full glory. His tip was round, like humans, but that was where the similarities ended. It was flushed dark blue, his cock the same color as his scales. 
You dived underwater again to take a closer look, your curiosity getting the best of you. Immediately, you spot that there were bumps and ridges down the shaft and all the way to the base. His cock both intimidated you, and made your walls clench.
But that wasn’t all.
Curled around his cock was a tentacle shaped like a smaller shaft. Like what it was wrapped around, the tentacle flushed blue and had small lumps on the sides. It was slimmer in comparison, but still as thick as his finger. With avid interest, you reached out to touch it, and was surprised when it unfurled itself and curled around your finger, coaxing you to come closer.
Like a creature under a sea witch’s spell, you inched closer, fascinated by the cock in front you. And before you knew it, you curled your fingers around his base, testing how the bumps felt under your skin by stroking it.
Above the surface, Rafayel gasped as you touched both of his cocks, and groaned when you brought both of them to your lips. He was relieved you accepted the otherworldly nature of them without any hesitation, and were even eager to pleasure him.
With both of his cocks in your mouth, you quickly realized that they, especially the smaller one, leaked more precome than expected, perhaps to make up for the lack of lubrication underwater. The salty taste filled your mouth as you circled your tongue around the larger tip, the smaller one pushing against your tongue and stimulating itself. Its movements made your heat clench at nothing again, and you wondered. How would this feel like if he fucked you now?
Rafayel gathered all your hair that was floating underwater, and held it behind your head. He wanted a clear picture of you sucking on his cocks and by God did he want to thrust himself deep into your mouth at the sight. But he relented. You were still new to this and he rather not risk you choking while underwater.
Pulling away from his cocks, you resurfaced one more to admire them from afar, only to be assaulted by another kiss. 
Rafayel had enough of his mate being so far from his embrace, he needed you in his arms and on his cock, now. Tugging you towards him again, he maneuvered you so that you would be flush against his cocks, making sure you knew what was in store for you moments later.
Unlike last time where he would grind against you however, he reached down to prod your entrance, spreading your folds with his fingers. You expected him to slip his fingers in but instead, a familiar, yet not, sensation crept in, massaging your soft walls.
“You can control it.” You gasped once realization kicked in, staring at him in bewilderment. He merely blinked in response, and nuzzled the crook of your neck.  
“Does that disgust you?” He asked. While you couldn’t see his face, you could feel him tense up, his grip on you unrelenting.
“No! Nothing like that. I was just wondering… What else can it do?” 
At your reassurance, he relaxed and continued to nuzzle your neck, nipping at your skin. “You will have to find out.”
“What–”
He pulled the smaller cock away from your heat, and had it latch onto your clit. You whimpered as he teased your clit, its smooth tip and small bumps running along its side sending pleasurable shivers down your spine.
Rafayel ran a finger up your entrance while you were distracted, and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Right. He needed to drain the water around the both of you before he tried anything. The water would wash all of your juices away otherwise and make this experience entirely uncomfortable for you.
He tugged at the stopper and let the water drain away, leaving just enough water for part of his tail to be soaked in water. As the water level dropped, more and more of your skin was exposed to him; the water droplets that clung onto your skin and slid down your body taunted him. 
With the water gone and out of the way, you could finally see clearly what his cocks looked like above water. And they did not disappoint. 
The amount of precome that dripped out and down his smaller cock was staggering, coating and smearing your clit with every twitch of it. His larger cock was the same as well, precome beaded on the round tip of it before sliding down the ribbed sides, his shaft glistening under the low light. 
“Do you like them?” He asked, parting your dripping folds and slipping a finger inside as his smaller cock busied itself with your clit. Your sweet whimpers made both of his cocks throb, and he couldn’t wait to hear your moans when he pushed both of them inside you.
He added another finger, burying it deeper within you as you rode his fingers, your hips having a mind of its own. You were starting to get used to the two different cocks when suddenly, his smaller cock shifted, resting your clit against a dimpled surface and–
“Mmh–!” You whimpered, the realization of him not only having ridges along his cocks, but also having suckers of all things, hit you with full force. It felt similar to having his mouth sucking on your clit, and you fleetingly wondered what if his smaller cock slipped in and sucked on your walls as well.
As though reading your mind, he stopped teasing your clit with it, and slid it inside you, adding what effectively was another finger into the mix, stretching you and satiating that growing ache to have something inside you.
You moaned as his fingers slipped in and out of you, the juices from your heat and his precome mixing together and dripping out of your core. While his smaller cock wasn’t as sensitive as his bigger one, the sensations of your walls dragging against his bumpy shaft made his cocks twitch. 
The primal drive to mate, to fuck and to breed coursed through his veins. His instincts screamed at him, demanding him to push his neglected cock in you and breed you properly. It was tempting, too tempting, with you bouncing oh so wantonly on his fingers, your hands holding on to the edges of the bathtub to steady yourself. But he held back. 
As much as he wanted you to ride him while he thrusts his hips in sync to your pace– and God did that thought made another bout of precome drip from both of his cocks– he was afraid of what was in store for you. He knew once he was in, those instincts would take over and you would not be able to reason with him until it was over.
He could feel his control slipping with every heartbeat, the lustful haze that was clouding the edges of his mind seeping into the forefront. It was a challenge, a manageable one, until you curled your fingers around his larger cock.
“Nnh–” He groaned, his cock pulsing in your hand as you stroked the underside of it and traced all the bumps it had. It took him a few steadying breaths not to thrust up and rut against your palm. 
Through a clouded haze, you fixated upon the cock in your hands as you rode the other. It was bulging and pulsing at different places, with some parts flushed deeper blue than the others. You didn’t fully comprehend it yet, the question of whether you can take it all plagued your mind. All you knew that whatever this was, you wanted in you. Now.
“...Are you sure?” Rafayel asked breathlessly as you pulled his fingers and his smaller cock out of you and teased the larger cock with your heat. You drawing circles on his tip with your entrance made him pulsate, staining you with more precome. His hands were now on your hips and he had half a mind to just push you down his shaft in one go.
“I won’t stop until I’m done, you know.” He cautioned again, one final warning before those little slivers of sanity that he had disappeared like foam. His smaller cock caressed your dripping folds and held them to the side, allowing him better access when he inevitably sank you down his eager cock.
“I know.” You responded as you lowered yourself down, slowly taking his cock in inch by inch. It was hot and the throbbing ridges rubbed against your soft walls, forcing more juices to flow out of you. You paused midway to let yourself get used to the foreign feeling, and watched him as he tried to keep his face in check.
Your tight warm walls made it increasingly difficult for him to hold back, especially when you clenched tentatively around him. He understood why you stopped halfway, as his larger cock grew thicker at the lower half until flaring out at the base. But he felt like you were teasing him at this point, with you dragging the upper half of his cock out and pushing it back in over and over again.
“Darling…” He hissed as you rode him, his grip on your hips vice like. Following your lead, he shallowly pumped his larger cock in and out of you, in tune to the pace you’ve set.
The bumps on the side of his cock grazed your clit with every thrust, and before you knew it, you began to take more and more of him in, your folds spread further and further apart with the help of his smaller cock.
The urge to pull back and slam his hips into you the moment you finally, finally, took the entirety of his larger cock in was overwhelming. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling a sharp, stuttering breath.
He was fighting a losing battle against his primal instincts, but he had to hold back or–
“Do it.”
Your voice broke through the lust ridden fog that clouded his mind. Did you just give him permission–
“Don’t worry, I can handle it.” You said again, nuzzling the top of his head and patting it. He was tense against you this entire time, strained and a heartbeat away from snapping. You knew he had been waiting for you to be ready, and you couldn’t help but smile at that. 
Coaxing him to finally let go of whatever inhibitions he had, you clenched your walls around him once more, forcing a quiet moan out of him. “Please Rafayel… Please fuck me.”
And like a light switch flipping, he dragged his larger cock out without warning, only giving you a second to process before slamming back into you. Every thrust filled you to the brim, and you could feel his hot precome leaking and spreading all over your walls as he thrusted.
“Rafayel– Mmh–” You moaned between open mouthed kisses, his lips capturing yours every time you managed to slip away. One of his hands held you in place as he fucked upwards into you, while the other palmed at your breast, tweaking and brushing over your nipple as your breasts bounced to the pace he had set. You had to wrap your arms around his shoulders then, or else you would’ve toppled at the sheer intensity of his thrusts.
At some point, when you cannot pinpoint exactly anymore, his smaller cock pulled away from your folds and prodded your entrance, slipping inside and pushing against your tight heat. The sudden intrusion forced your half lidded eyes open, and before you could mention it, the suckers dotted on the underside of his smaller cock grazed your walls, gently sucking on you from the inside.
Rafayel listened attentively to your moans as he sucked on the skin of your neck, leaving numerous bites and markings on you. His rational mind was now gone, replaced by his need to pleasure and breed his beautiful mate. He nuzzled your neck once more, your lovely moans encouraging him to keep going, spurring him on.
The steady tension that was building within your abdomen threatened to snap with every heartbeat, and you could feel yourself being close, so close, to that high that Rafayel was pushing you towards. You couldn’t help but move your hips along to his erratic rhythm, anything to get yourself closer to that point.
As though sensing your desperation, which was not difficult considering your walls fluttered more and more around him, clenching and squeezing him oh so sinfully, he pulled his smaller cock out of your heat and grinded the underside of it against your clit.
“Rafayel–!” The sensation of his suckers pulling at your clit drove you over the edge. Like a coil snapping under pressure, your heat tightened around his cock as you reached that high, clenching and spasming around it.
“My mate…” He breathed out, not once stopping to give you a break as you navigated through the pleasure he brought to you. The way your walls clasped around him as you were pushed over the edge brought his own high forward, forcing a growl past his lips as he suddenly pushed both of his cocks as deep as he could within you before letting his come spill over, releasing as much as he could inside you. 
He didn’t stop there however, he continued to pump his cocks deep into you, hoping to push his essence deeper inside with a few more unsteady thrusts.
As you paused to regain your breath, he pulled away from your neck and brushed the hair that fell messily on your face away, and kissed you as tenderly as possible. 
He looked calmer now, content even, compared to how he was before. The tension that was present on his shoulders and eyebrows was gone, dissipated along with the apprehension that he had about showing you the entirety of his original form.
A sudden glint in the corner caught your eye. It was your phone, its screen turning on most likely because of someone texting you. Next to it was your belongings and–
Oh. You forgot about the ice.
“You should’ve told me this was going to happen instead of making me buy ice for you.” You laughed, seeing that the bags of ice had now turned into bags of water with ice chips in it. They weren’t that expensive so you didn’t really mind, but the time you spent scouring shops that were still open close to midnight was now rendered unnecessary.
Rafayel kissed your cheek and nuzzled you, still basking in the afterglow under the moonlight. “...I was scared you would reject me.” He confessed, still clinging onto you like a lifeline. “Will you let me make it up to you?”
You were about to ask how he would do that when you were acutely reminded of his cocks still being inside you, still stiff and ready for another round.
“How–”
“It is mating season after all.” He simply replied, and you noted that his eyes suddenly had a predatory glint to them, making your heat clench again and your heart race. 
“You, my darling mate… are going nowhere.”
789 notes · View notes
jyoongim · 3 months
Note
I was just thinking like..alastor in his nun outfit…Charlie takes us to confession for like an admitting our sins exercise (but it’s actually just in the hotel) to confess our sins, we admit to fantasising about Alastor and we reveal our dirty fantasies and he hears it..maybe decides to act on it to cleanse us of our sins….IDKKK
FORGIVE ME DADDY FOR I HAVE SINNED
(Love your writing btw) 
I LOVE YOU!!!! Thank you for reading my horny writings babe!!!
Title: Sweet Confession
”uuuuhhhh Charlie why do we have to confess our sins? Ain’t that a little personal?” Angel asked as she finished explaining her new ‘bonding’ exercise.
The princess beamed “That’s the whole point! To acknowledge your wrong doings and knowing that you can be vulnerable with the sins you’ve committed”
The group groaned but went on with it.
She had a curtain set up to give privacy and a chair to sit and you just spilled out your darkest secrets to a box?
it wasn’t her worst idea. Being vulnerable was good…so what was the harm?
You fiddled with your fingers as you took a seat.
This reminded you of when your mother would force to to church and seek advice from a priest about your woes. You never really understood the point.
You hadn’t committed the most elaborate sin, but you weren’t a pure sinner either.
“Remember take all the time you need! Crying is good!” You heard Charlie say as she closed the curtain, leaving you to yourself.
”what are you here to confess?” A automatic voice said from the box.
What could you confess? Your sin was boring…
”I-I have been pledged with rather lewd thoughts” you said shyly.
”I know it sounds crazy but I…I think about Alastor in these thoughts”
’Why?’ The voice responded.
You bit your lip “I don’t know. He’s witty, confident, rough around the edges. He’s always around and so helpful. I kind of feel bad now” your shoulders wilted.
”He’s just my kind of guy I guess. Tall, Dark, oh so handsome my gooooodddd” you gushed.
”and how do you think of him in these thoughts of yours?”
You gulped “He’s just so polite and a gentleman that it just does something to me. Under all that, he’s a demon. Its hot and mysterious and I just want him to fuck my brains out…not literally…well the fuck part literally but not til I’m dead”
”I want him. Like carnally. I knooooow I can be a good girl for him. I would let that man do anything to me. I want to give my utter and complete devotion to him as he ruins me. I want him to like its a need to breathe. He lives in my head rent free!” You whined.
”I don’t go a single night without touching myself to his voice. Its like velvet. I imagine how he would growl in my ear as he watch me tease myself. Pouring out praise and degrading words as I whine for his dick…oooohhh his dick I know its big I just know it. I need him inside me. To fill me with his cum. To carve my pussy to his shape and make me lose my mind. I think about being his willingly. I don’t need a deal to give him my soul” you trailed off. You hadn’t realized you were ranting. The very confession had your face flushed, thighs clenching at the thought of your fantasy coming true.
You laughed, shaking our head “I guess that’s a sin? Having lustful thoughts about some one? I didn’t really think anything of it but it felt good to admit that to something. people would think I’m crazy…fantasizing about the Radio Demon knocking the coins out of me hahaha”
You took a deep breathe and emerged from the curtain, feeling a bit better for confessing your darkest desires.
Alastor had a wide Cheshire smile on his face. Listening to the hotel’s residents secrets and woes gave him a sense of entertainment.
 Your confession about the red demon was very interesting.
Alastor’s mind had formed a very detailed picture of your confession.
You, doe-eyed and wanton as you whined for his cock. He would make you beg him to fuck you. To ruin you.
You shaking from overstimulation and covered in his cum flashed in his mind.
He chuckled darkly at the thought, Oh what a pretty pet you will make.
And who would he be if he didn’t make you sweet little fantasy a reality?
738 notes · View notes
the-s1lly-corner · 7 months
Note
Sorry to bother ya again, but my brain is literally on overdrive with this show and this clown who hws beckme my first kin and lives in my head rent free as she quietly sits there with a cup of hot chocolate and a warm blanket like she deserves, buuut
What if the gang found out the reader could abstract at will, including restricting it to certain parts of their body, ooor what if they found out you were a shapeshifter when you accidentally sneeze and turn into Wario or something
TADC cast x reader who can shapeshift!
i have returned from eating my silly dinner (sweet n sour chicken with rice!) it was very scrumptious i went ahead and did the shapeshifter idea since i feel that would be more fun to write (we can pretend they can still shift to mimic an abstracted body shhh) these ones are a little short i hope thats okay!
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CAINE:
its not totally unheard of people getting unique abilities when they enter the digital world, its just not very common (this is a hc!), so when caine found out you could manipulate your appearance he wasn't all that surprised! i think he was more intrigued more than anything, because its not everyday you see something like that! he would be absolutely thrilled if you shifted into him; both from being amused of it and this man probably loves himself as much as someone can
will try to pop you if you mimic bubble, kind of feels bad for a second but your disguise was just so so convincing! say, were you by any chance an actor in your past life in the real world? you totally had him fooled!
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POMNI:
pomni would be a little freaked out, especially if you just. suddenly sneezed and OH! now it looks like you're abstracting in front of everyone! first response is to run away before the transformation is complete, but when she notices no one else is freaking out (ragatha even blesses you!) shes more than a little confused
you offer to demonstrate your abilities to her, but she probably politely turns you down; she understands... for the most part... really its mostly just her trying to become used to the digital world as a whole
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RAGATHA:
ragatha makes sure that you know that she thinks its cool; and as long as you're not morphing into a giant bug shes encouraging you to hone in on that cool power of yours! compliments whatever form you choose for the day
oh? you changed your hair color! she likes it, the new look is amazing on you! oh? you made yourself a little taller and gave yourself some new characteristics! points out nearly every detail shes noticed, no matter how small. ragatha pays attention, ragatha cares
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JAX:
tries to drag you off to the dark side (ie being a menace to the others), whether or not you agree to be his partner in crime and 'use your power for evil' is fully up to you!
makes random requests to see just how far you can take your shapeshifting, usually listing off things at lightning speed to see if you can catch up.. if your shapeshifting takes a toll on you (like lets say it takes energy out of you) he might let up when he realizes how tired and pale you look all of a sudden.. at least for now
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KINGER:
speedrunning to kinger for a moment before i forget this idea but imagine shapeshifting into him and hes just totally confused. leads to him making weird movements and you copying him (he thinks caine added a new mirror in the middle of the room for a solid minute before you break the illusion)
unless you have a set 'base form' hes going to keep thinking youre a new person if you drastically alter your appearance.. which, fair, since i think if you made yourself look unrecognizable, people would think youre a new person entirely. has probably introduced himself to you multiple times before realizing it was you
kinger gets a technical third bullet point but its not fluff. i just remembered the scene from steven universe where amethyst shapeshifts into rose in front of greg. but instead its kinger and instead of rose is queener/queenie. i hurt my own feelings. im gonna stew over this now
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ZOOBLE:
honestly if you look just a mixmatched as them they would be into it and say you look cool. i had an idea that zooble has spare pieces and sometimes switches out their pieces for a new look, so imagine the two of you make matching looks or something, i think that would be cool
otherwise i dont think zooble would treat you any differently than if you were friends and couldnt shapeshift... though... i will admit, they think its funny when jax annoys you and change yourself in order to get him to back off. serves him right!
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GANGLE
imagine she asks you to be a model for her art.. asking you to do different poses as well as different figures so she can better her craft. i absolutely love the idea of gangle being really into art, and this idea is just so cute to me
you have probably shapeshifted into her and pretended to be her when she needed someone to stand up for her... imagine how jarring it would be to see 'gangle' snap back at jax after he does something particularly mean
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psychedelic-ink · 1 year
Note
Your Pre-Outbreak Joel Fics lives rent free in my head 🥵
Would you ever write something about Joel maybe working you over like real gentle but til your an overstimulated mess with lots of praise and pet names? Asking for a friend 🥺
this....might've gotten out of hand but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
genre: smut, minors dni
word count: 1.6k
summary: If you had to make a list of things Joel Miller might buy you as a gift— nipple clamps, would not be a part of it. 
warnings: overstimulation, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, darlin', sweet girl, honey), dirty talk, nipple play, nipple clamps, vaginal fingering, oral (receiving), newly found bdsm dynamics, dom/sub undertones, piv, creampie
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A shudder of pleasure ripples through you as Joel's soft lips engulf your aroused nipple. His fingers expertly bring you to the brink, his moans of delight mingling with yours as they echo through the room. The sensation of his dark curls brushing against your chin tickles you. His thumb circles around your sensitive nub, intensifying the pleasure until you're overwhelmed. He gazes into your eyes with a smirk, his teeth lightly grazing your nipple as he brings you to unimaginable heights.
You have no idea how long it’s been since he pushed his fingers inside your sopping heat. Every stroke mind-numbing and torturous. He moves them slowly, curling and scissoring them when he’s knuckle deep. A soft whimper falls from your lips when his mouth trails down your breast, biting into the swell of it. 
“So wet for me,” he mutters. “So fuckin’ perfect. You take my fingers so well sweetheart.” 
He drags his nose up the column of your neck, lips touching your ear as he speaks. Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes flutter closed. 
“I want to try somethin’” he mutters, pulling his fingers out of you and dragging them up your torso. The wet trail chills with the air of the room. “I got you a gift.” 
“A gift?” you ask, your eyes fluttering open. “What gift?” 
Joel presses his lips into the corner of your jaw and moves away, his hand still on your body, he reaches into the drawer. He pulls out a small box. 
“Before I give it to you promise me you’ll say no if you don’t want to,” he says, averting his gaze. You smile at the way red blossoms over his cheeks. 
“Promise.” 
If you had to make a list of things Joel Miller might buy you as a gift— nipple clamps, would not be a part of it.
You blink rapidly, your brain not able to comprehend what you’re looking at. They’re quite simple in shape. Two clamps are connected by a chain; you also notice that the clamps have two small bells attached to them. Immediately your brain conjures up images of him fucking you while having them on, the jingles filling the room. 
Your blood simmers under your skin, arousal sticky and thick on your tighs. 
“Do you…like’em?” he mutters, his fingers finding the apex of your thigh. “We don’t have to use them. I just—you like it don’t you? When I play with your nipples? I thought you might enjoy’em.” 
“I do,” you answer, breathless. Lifting your eyes, you meet his gaze.  “Oh, I definitely do. I’ve never tried them before but I want to.” you cup his cheek, slick with sweat. “Thank you.” 
“To be fair it’s for my benefit too,” he grins, all that uncertainty gone. His voice confident. “I love how you clench around me when I pinch them.” 
Smiling, you shake your head and push the box into his hands. 
“Well then, put them on.” 
Looking away, you sit up and pull your arms back, your palms flat on the bed. You try not to think too hard about how exposed you are. You expect him to put them on right away, your nipples tingling with the imaginary sensation of the clamps. But instead, Joel rests his palm on top of your breast, holding it gently, feeling its weight. Your lips part with a heavy breath. He smooths his thumb over the peak and squeezes. 
The other one receives the same treatment, it feels like time has gone still, leaving only you and him to do whatever you pleased. 
Finally, you feel cool metal and a soft jingle circling your nipple. He doesn’t use it yet, he leans in and sucks the pebbled flesh into his mouth. Sucking it eagerly. You fist the sheets, your entire body shaking as his tongue flicks over your aching nipple. You shudder and he lets go with a pop. 
“Ready?” he asks, a smirk tugging at his wet lips. 
You nod and Joel squeezes the peg open. He closes it around your already sensitive nipple, you gasp as a jolt of pain shoots through your body. His hand is a soothing presence on your thigh, rubbing slow circles into your skin. He’s watching you. You feel his gaze raking hot and searing your skin. He repeats the motion and closes the clamp around the other one, you moan this time. 
“Feels good?” he rasps, his pupils blown wide. 
“Feels amazing.” 
Joel pushes you back down to the bed, he spreads your legs wide and settles between them. His breath is warm and heavy on your gaping sex. He presses kisses into the lips of your pussy, tongue delving between them. Your back arches, your toes curling at the feeling. A soft jingle echoes. You’ve already been worked open with his fingers with the promise of his cock, you need him like you need air. 
You moan and thread your fingers through his hair, wanting to pull him on top of you and give you his cock instead. He growls into your cunt, a harsh bite delivered into your inner thigh. You jerk away but his hands pin you still. His fingers trace the cool metal of the chain and tug on it—hard. 
“Fuck!” you gasp, the pull of your nipples making you see bright stars. “Joel, please—” 
“Behave darlin’,” he coos. “You’ve been doin’ so well for me. Let’s not get carried away now.” 
“But—But—!” 
He tugs on the chain again, albeit more gently this time. Slick trickles down your folds, your eyes rolling back. It feels so good. Without even thinking, you roll your hips in a desperate attempt to seek out his lips. Joel gives you what you want, tugging on the chain occasionally as he devours you. 
“My needy, sweet girl,” he mutters, his voice muffled. “You’re doin’ so good, honey. So patient for me. You can’t wait to take my cock, huh?” 
You nod eagerly, your orgasm a hot coil tightening in your stomach. Your nipples ache, a pleasure mixing with the pain. They feel swollen and hot whenever Joel tugs on the chain. Your mind blanks every time, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. 
“That’s it, sweetheart. Come in my mouth and you can have my cock. I’ll fuck you with them sweet bells jinglin’, I’ll hold onto you so tight that it’ll take a week to get rid of my fingers prints—Fuck—So sweet.” 
He fully buries himself into you. Inhaling your scent like a man unhinged. Your head falls back, the whisper of his name falling from your lips again and again. He tightens his hold on the chain and your thighs close around his face. His tongue laps at you with fast, firm, strokes. Your body is simply his to play with. You love being at his disposal, love when he takes care of every inch of your body. 
Your orgasm carries through you like a wave, cresting and crashing into every part of your body. Joel’s tongue continues to lap at your clit, pushing you higher and higher. His free hand moves up your body, cupping your breast and tugging on the chain. You cry out, pleasure and pain inextricably linked together. Your hips buck, desperate for more of his touch.
Suddenly, Joel’s tongue withdraws, leaving you panting and desperate. You feel him move away and your eyes flutter open. His eyes are heavy with desire as he kneels between your legs, his cock hard and ready. You reach out, wanting to touch him. He grabs your hands and pulls them over your head, using your wrists to anchor you to the bed.
“Stay still sweetheart,” he rumbles, his voice low and throaty. “I want to feel every inch of you.”
Joel moves forward, pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. You shiver and moan, feeling the jingle of the bells as he moves. He takes his time, pressing forward inch by inch until he is fully seated inside of you. You gasp, the warmth of him completely enveloping you. He doesn’t move, letting you adjust to the sensation of him being inside of you.
So deep. So thick.
Eventually, he starts to move, thrusting in and out of you in slow, steady strokes. The bells jingle with every move, the sound driving you wild. You moan and grind against him, matching each thrust with one of your own. He responds, increasing the intensity and force of his thrusts. Your breathing grows shallow, your second orgasm building with each thrust.
Joel leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Come for me, honey,” he whispers, his voice full of need. “Wanna feel you tight around my cock.” 
The words are all you need to push you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. You scream out his name, your body spasming. Joel grunts and his thrusts become more erratic, his own orgasm taking over. He collapses against you, his cock jerking inside of you as fills you to the brim. 
You feel the warmth of it, a sensation that sends a thrill through your body. You feel his seed dripping down your thighs, making a mess of the sheets underneath. His arms wrap around you and he presses a soft kiss to your neck. His breathing is hot against your skin, his lips trailing gentle kisses against your throat.
The aftershocks of your orgasm still ripple through your body, each wave pushing you further into bliss. Your heart is pounding and your body is humming with satisfaction. Joel pulls out and rests his forehead against yours, his gaze full of love.
He pulls out and rolls to the side, taking you with him. The soft jingles follow. He wraps you in his arms, his lips pressing against your forehead. You smile and snuggle closer, feeling safe and content in his embrace. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. 
“For what?” he asks, his voice full of sleep. 
“For this,” you answer, gesturing between the two of you. “For the gift. For everything.” 
He smiles and pulls you closer. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
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the-au-thor · 4 months
Note
I have an idea for Spencer Reid x female reader.
Spencer and the reader have a stable relationship. They are going through a stressful period, and Spencer struggles to realize that the reader is reaching their limit because she doesn't want to bother him. But finally, Spencer is there for her, helping her because they love each other.
If you don't like this, it's okay. I'd love to read it tho.
Love !
Hey dear one; sorry for the late very late answer. I've been very busy but I could take time to write a bit of this story on my free time. It was a little tough. I'll be talking about anxiety from my perspective although I am aware it is not the same to everyone.
I know how it feels to have your own enemy living rent free inside your brain telling you all the right things to break you. Keep fighting people! You are doing it fine, your best, don't put so much stress on your chest. Love you!
That day in the Café | Spencer Reid × Anxious! Reader
Word: 1k
Warning: Read this first!
You sat on your knees on the cold floor of the room as you tried to fold Diana's clothes, separating them carefully and leaving in a different pile those that were ready to be discarded. It had been a difficult and long week; Diana had a crisis while visiting you at home, and her psychiatrist conclude that her medications weren't working anymore and she needed a change of her prescription and that would either render her docile most of the time or leave her too disoriented and lethargic to hold a conversation.
When you and Spencer woke up in the mornings to give her the first dose; a cocktail of extremely strong medications, she would babble unintelligible and incoherent things. Every time you saw her swallow her pills heavily, you knew that wasn't Diana. Diana was fire, she was grace, and mental agility. Even with the mental lapses her illness caused, she could hold conversations, argue, defend herself, and string together five words without sounding like a poorly pronounced murmur. You hated seeing Diana like this.
Spencer was also distant; you knew you had to be patient; he struggled to open up with his feelings and above all to express them in a way that didn't make him feel vulnerable. Even with you and after all that time, you had to pick the right moment to remind him that you were a team, that he wasn't alone anymore, and that he simply had to let you in. Plus, you knew the routine would be different. Spencer wouldn't dedicate as much time to you, and it was understandable. After all, it was his mom. But he was forgetting to hold your hand occasionally, or cuddle with you at night while you solved word puzzles and he read his books. He was also leaving dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and if he made a mess, he forgot he had to clean it up. The towels were spread damp over the bed, he left puddles of water outside the shower for you to mop up, and honestly, you were also a bit exhausted. You didn't blame him; his mind was elsewhere with good reason lately. But yours was going to that negative place you had relegated to a very dark corner of your head but whose door occasionally opened to release all those negative emotions, self-sabotaging thoughts, and memories you preferred to forget. Stress was starting to take its toll on you, and you felt alone, you needed someone to hold you while you cried, but you didn't have anyone. And the worst: yes, you had someone, but that someone was too tense with his mother's situation and you didn't want to burden him with more worries. You tried to think of something else as you careful took a look into one of Diana's pajamas to fold it and stack it.
You remembered when Spencer and you were friends; you both fooled yourselves into thinking that was all you would ever be. You went out constantly, keeping a log to keep track of new cafés. One day you were drinking your coffees accompanied by a couple of donuts when he took your hand and told you he loved you. Your heart had beaten as if someone had replaced it with a drum that was constantly being pounded by a pair of drumsticks. You gave him a verbal list of all your flaws, all your traumas, and all the reasons why you weren't right for him. He invalidated each of your points. He wasn't going anywhere. If only he could see you now, you knew he would agree with you. Especially with the way your mind began to scream your thoughts at you, as if they were rioting inside you without apparent order. Your hands were trembling, and your eyes began to cloud over, not allowing you to continue folding the clothes. There, sitting on your knees, squeezing Diana's pajamas without being able to let them go because your mind was too far from your body to send it any orders. Tears ran down your cheeks, running a marathon, quickly slipping down the cliff of your chin and falling onto your bare, warm, and almost thick arms. You tried to do the breathing exercises your therapist had taught you, but you couldn't concentrate. You needed to get out of there; run somewhere. You didn't know what the hell was happening to you. You knew you had to ask for help, but you couldn't speak. That's when the first blow hit your face; your palm repeatedly hitting your forehead and then slapping yourself until the relief of the pain in your reddened cheek appeared, but that wasn't enough. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't stop. You kept hitting yourself until you managed to get up and sit on the bed as you tried to breathe. You walked quickly to the bathroom and tried to clean your face in a small oasis of peace that you didn't know how long it would last; you could feel the next panic attack beginning to boil in your chest. Your hands squeezed the porcelain of the sink, and you resolved to get out of there; you walked through the living room, taking the house keys and your jacket before announcing that you were going to visit Penelope. Spencer looked at you from his desk and left his office to catch up with you at the door, with a furrowed brow and a worried face. He took your shoulders, stopping your departure knowing that something was wrong because you didn't want to look him in the eye. He saw the trail your tears had left on your face, the tip of your nose red, and then the marks on your cheek and forehead.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, but you were unable to speak. He enveloped you in his arms and began to trace circles on your back, massaging between your shoulder blades and lower back. "It's okay; cry. Let it out," he asked, beginning to hear the crying come out.
It seemed like you had so much, that the sobs bottled up in your throat made it hard for you to breathe.
"I-I'm s-sorry so much. I hate crying," you murmured between uncontrollable tears, feeling Spencer stroke your hair, burying his fingers and massaging your scalp.
"We're made for that. You don't have to apologize, breathe, my love. Here; listen," he said softly as he lovingly guided you to his chest so you could hear his heartbeat.
At first, the frequency wasn't noticeable, you were too aware of yourself for that, but slowly the sound of his heart managed to overpower the volume of the screams inside you, and you felt your breathing becoming easier. Spencer's hands firmly squeezed your shoulders, and you felt his fingers giving affectionate massages.
"What happened?" he murmured as he continued holding your face against his chest.
"I d-don't know," you murmured still with a trembling voice. "I was folding Diana's clothes for the clinic, and then I started to..j-just feel too much" You heard his sigh, and then a soft kiss on your forehead, brushing his lips against your skin. You felt his warm breath collide against you, and that seemed to calm you even more.
"My love, I told you to rest," he remembered with an almost tired whisper, "you've done too much this week."
You shook your head frantically, feeling more tears coming out of your eyes. "I feel like I can't do anything right lately."
That managed to make Spencer let you go to take your face in his hands and look into your eyes as he wiped the tears from your cheeks. "Are you kidding? You've done too much this week. A-and I...my love; you've done things you shouldn't be doing. She's my mom."
You frowned slightly before defending your position.
"I love Diana, nothing I've done has been out of obligation. I do it willingly. It's just that...I-I feel so bad doing it because I know that if it weren't for her new treatment, she would be perfectly fine, and she wouldn't feel like I'm invading her personal space every time I help her bathe or dress."
He nodded several times with a tired half-smile, resting his forehead against yours.
"I know. I understand. I'm sorry."
"And I think that she has been through this before, and you've had to take care of her alone, and it's not fair. And now I'm worrying you just because I can't be s-strong enough," you felt his fingers caressing your cheeks and jawline as he kissed your face softly.
"Don't say that," he spoke almost sadly, "it's a very difficult situation."
"You're handling it well."
"No, I've been through this before, and every time it's a challenge."
You frowned touching his face with the palm of your hand.
"And why...? Why didn't you tell me?"
He seemed to hesitate before answering, "Because I didn't want to worry you."
You slowly pulled away from him, feeling your eyelids beginning to feel heavy from crying.
"I didn't want to either," you whispered and shook your head tiredly, "this won't work if we don't talk."
He nodded slowly. "I know."
"I know you don't want to worry me, but by not telling me anything, you isolate me, and I feel like a burden, like I'm not doing anything to help you." Spencer looked at you regretfully and shook his head vigorously.
"Sweetheart, no. You're spectacular; you do things that I wouldn't think of. You cleaned mom's closet, you washed her hair, you cut it, and painted her nails. I wouldn't have thought of that, believe me."
"But I want you to trust me; you need to tell me what's happening here" you placed a finger on his forehead and your palm on his chest "and here" He nodded, placing his hand over yours gently, and you felt the warmth of his palm on your skin "I know you've done this alone all your life, and I know it's going to be hard to share your feelings with me. But I'm here for all the time, and if y-you can accept my panic attacks and intrusive thoughts, I want you to share with me the ugly and the painful." Spencer's eyes read you for a good while before speaking again. He hugged your hand with his and brought it to his lips.
"I've been pushing you away lately, haven't I?"
You nodded "But I know it's because you've been worried"
"No," he denied, "I was selfish. I only thought about mom and licking my own wounds like a sort of solitary bear. I didn't take into account that this is new for you, and that you would feel overwhelmed. Really, my love, forgive me. You're right: we're a team. And I've been just... not cooperating at all"
"I don't want you to blame yourself, please," you pleaded almost begging.
"No. But it's something I have to fix. I'll call Pen and ask her to come; mom's sleeping and she'll be doing it for a while" he searched for his phone in his pocket and began typing rapidly on the screen "We're going to take a little trip to an old friend's cabin, and on the way, we're going to talk: find a blanket and a coat. I'll do something for us to eat when we get there," he began to walk through the living room, and you watched him standing halfway. He stopped and furrowed his brow "what's wrong?"
"I don't want to leave Diana," you stammered nervously, "not because of a panic attack."
He approached you in giant steps and took your face in his hands again.
"For years I kept my friends away from my private life. Especially from what concerned mom. I isolated myself and growled and dismissed any help the guys offered. Because I'm her son, and I didn't care about sacrificing myself," he offered you a brief kiss to look at you again "But now I have you, and I'm not willing to sacrifice you. I love you, and I also have to take care of you" he planted another one of his kisses on your lips, but this time it lasted a little longer "let's put some ice on your cheeks, okay?"
You nodded.
"I love you. I will take care of you too"
He brushed the tip of his nose against yours and smiled "You are already doing it" then you heard the doorbell, and he kissed you once more before stepping away. "I told you, right? At the café: that there was nothing that could make me stop loving you or push you away, right?"
Your chest still felt somewhat tight, and you knew there were still many tears inside you waiting to come out, but still, it made you smile. And there it was; everything your mind had fabricated, the fears and self-sabotaging thoughts started to slowly fade as Spencer held your hand all the way to the old Gideon's cabin near the woods. And that night Spencer cuddle with you while you talked. And you knew everything was gonna be alright.
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coff33notforme · 11 months
Text
Atsv characters reaction to you calling them baby girl
A/n: Just silly little headcannons because this prompt has been living in my head rent free, also I’m adding Atsv to my writing list so feel to request headcannons. Pairing: Pavtri, Gwen, Hobie, and Miguel and Gn reader (Separately, Platonic or Romantic, just random bullshit I don’t know, headcannons )
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Gwen: You’d just returned from an incredibly draining mission, your body ached with each tense step you took
But as soon as you saw Gwen leaned over one counter tops in dining hall you couldn’t help but feel a childish joy bubble up from in your chest
Wrapping your arms around her waist as you embraced her with a smile you whispered 
“How’s my baby girl doing today?”
And she fucking freezes, your what?
You had never called her anything like that before, she can’t help but feel a smile of confusion creep it’s way onto her face
“What, what did you just call me?” 
She asks with a smile 
She’s not mad at all, just confused as to what brought this on, but after you repeat it she shakes her head with a breathy laugh as she turns to hug you
She doesn’t really mind the nickname, I mean it’s not like she’s in love with it, but she finds your strange nature oddly endearing
Whenever you use it In front of others though, lord have mercy, she’ll do that thing where she freezes up and her eyes go wide as she tries to cover up what you were saying to her
Hobie and Pav tease the shit out of her
One time just to test the waters you used the name In front of Miguel, when I tell you she froze, I mean like a deer in headlights as she turned to you with the biggest glare she could offer
Miguel only scowls at the two of you as he rubbed his temple with a frustrated sigh
“Y/n, Gwen, at least try to keep this professional.”
She wouldn’t talk to you for two weeks after that
But once her anger had subsided she found herself getting used it too it
Pavtri:
You were in the kitchen, bent cookie recipe with furrowed brows as your eyes scanned the paragraph of instructions your eyes fell upon one particular ingredient 
Sugar
How could you have forgotten to buy some? With a groan you shifted your body to face Pavtri who had been laid out on the couch watching you work for the past hour of so, he looked over to you confused as to way you seemed so distressed 
“Hey, Baby girl?” 
You called out to him in only the sweetest tone, he couldn’t fight the smile that managed it’s way onto his now brightly grinning face
“Yes? My prissy pissy poo poo bear?”
At his ridiculous nickname, you couldn’t help but to burst out with a loud fit of laughter, as you clutched your stomach you turned back to Pav
“What, did you just call me?”
“What did you call me?” 
He shot back with a lopsided smile 
From then on anytime you used the nickname he only racked his brain for something ten times as ridiculous as what you had called him
You’ve compiled a list of all the weird shit he’s said
Anytime he does this you let out a soft snort and a quiet fit of giggles following this, and this only encourages Pav to keep going, he’s addicted to the sound of your laughter
But honestly he loves the nickname, the idea of him being yours and yours only, makes his heart flutter 
Hobie:
The idea had come to you a long time ago, you had to admit, that you found the idea of calling Hobie baby girl, was at least a little funny to you if not incredibly tempting 
With a shit eating grin crawling up onto your face, you’d found Hobie in his room, tweaking his electric guitar as he sat on his bed
His head shot up at he noticed your frimillar  figure slinking through his door, he offered you a lazy smirk as he placed his guitar to his right as he opened his arms for you
“How ya been doin’ love?”
He drew out, you felt your smile only widened as you returned his embrace 
“Not too well without my baby girl.”
You teased as you placed yourself onto his lap, kissing his cheek with a hum
“Damn Right.”
Just accepts it, baby, he’s whatever you want him to be 
Malewife, babygirl, you name it he’s yours 
He just loves you call him yours, and if you want he’ll call you the same 
Miguel:
It was a dare, it was a dare, fucking Peter B Parker would be the death of you
Miguel was right there, this was all you had to do before you could leave, this was it, it was only for a moment and then you were gone
Miguel sat alone in his office, his head propped up in one arm as his eyes tiredly drifted through the monitor screens, with signature pout plastered to his face 
With a deep breath, you turned and shot Peter one last glare as he smiled to you offering you a encouraging thumbs up as you stepped into
Miguel’s office, Miguel slowly turned his office chair as he looked to you with a bored look on his face
“Do you want something, Y/n.” 
He spat, he didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh but as he saw you wince slightly at his tone he couldn’t help but sigh, as he ran his hand through his messy hair
“What is it?”
He asked slightly softer than before, you drew in a deep breath as you approached him cupping his face with one hand as you kissed his other cheek
“Nothing much, just wanted to see my baby girl.”
You muttered against his skin
Miguel tensed up as soon as those words left your lips
“What the fuck did you just call me.”
At first you froze, you didn’t know if he was going to blow up, but much to your surprise
Miguel pushed you away as he quickly turned away letting out a string of irritated groans and growls as he held his face in his hands
He was so fucking glad you couldn’t see what an effect your words had on him, his face had glown bright red 
There was no way, he actually fucking liked that, this only caused him to growl louder which had you flinching 
“Get out!” 
He barked which had you scampering out of his office as fast as possible, he needed to cool of now, but he was definitely going to make it up to you later
————————————————————
Requests are open teehee
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sparklingsora · 3 months
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Hi. I would like to know many things about your roleswap au bc I love it very much but I have no idea what to ask I just want to know many things bc my brain has been consumed already
uhhhhh I guess can you lore dump a little bit on backstories? Idk I just wanna know everything about this au
I will be back in your ask box for this au several times most likely
-Spaghetti Brain Anon
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK!!! i am SO glad that i could get this au to live in someone else's brain rent free too. all i could ever ask for in life tbh i guess i'll infodump about character backstories, dynamics, character arcs, all that juicy stuff putting it under cut because HO BOY THIS IS GONNA GET LONG
as a heads up, take the timeframes i give you with a grain of salt, because i still havent completely figured out the timeline so first of all, vox!! he's a sinner, died in the 1950s, as per canon. he's a businessman, but less stable than in canon. he's always jumping from job to job, business to business, which results in him having a lot of connections with various people around hell. soon after arriving in hell, he met and became friends with alastor. cut to, i'd say around 7-10 years before the events of the story? alastor disappears without a trace during an extermination and vox assumes him dead. having now been personally touched by the effects of the extermination, the idea to try and solve overpopulation another way is planted in his head, but wont come to fruition until much later. in the meantime he meets velvette - finds her bleeding out in an alleyway after getting too cocky and trying to fight back to an exorcist (bad idea). he nurses her back to health, they become friends and eventually start dating, yada yada yada. one day vox and velvette find a funky little cat (keekee). keekee takes a liking to them and leads them to the old ruins of a building up on the hill on the edge of pentagram city. they figure out that the cat turns into a keyblade that can be used to magically build shit (only the hotel though, as keekee is the spirit of the hotel or??? whatever the hell the canon lore is idk???) vox finally decides to realize his idea to try and solve overpopulation more humanely - through redeeming sinners! his reasoning is, if angels can fall (as proven by lute and charlie), then demons can surely ascend, right? though he's not as sure or idealistic about it as charlie is in canon. he simply thinks it has a chance of working, and opening up a hotel means a bigger sample size than if he were to just try and get into heaven himself or something like that. besides, he wouldnt wanna go to heaven, he likes it here. also, im not sure where this is situated in the timeline yet, but he was in a band with adam, lute and possibly eve at some point? the band is called brimstone eden, as mentioned in the comic i posted. im not sure yet whether he was in the band prior to eve's disappearance or after it (eve disappears 7 years before the story starts to mirror canon lilith). swap!vox, like his canon counterpart, is a very reactive person. he follows trends, he's extremely go-with-the-flow to a fault. he never really had any strong beliefs until the hotel - his character arc mainly involves him gaining something to believe in and learning to fight for that belief, 'ready for this' being more or less the culmination of his arc. jesus christ i cant believe i wrote that much JUST on vox. *slaps the top of his head* this boy can fit so much lore in him
now, velvette... she's how you'd expect her to be. same old brave, arrogant velvette. she's a fashion designer and seamstress and runs a moderately sized business which she promotes on sinstagram. she's mutuals with val there, which is how he finds out about the hotel. there's not much to write home about when it comes to val - it's insane how similar angel and him are. like literally barely anything changes when you swap them, it's very clean. he's a prn star, sold his soul to angel dust, yada yada. though a bit on his dynamic with vox - vox is very good at reading people, and doesn't like being lied to (he's a bit of a hypocrite in that regard - he puts on a facade all the time when in professional settings). he can clearly tell val isnt doing as good as he pretends he is, and wants to help him really badly, but val just sees it as vox pitying him and rejects his help (its what they fight about in ep 4, as a counterpart to the whole "charlie going to the studio" thing bc vox wouldnt do that) and now here's the fun part - ALASTOR! oh, alastor, you beautiful stuck up bitch! so turns out, he's not so dead after all! he ALMOST died in that fateful extermination, but husk found him and offered him a "give me your soul right now or bleed out in this alleyway" type deal. of course alastor chose the former, but boy he's not happy about it. he's extremely ashamed of how far he's fallen. so ashamed, in fact, that he hid from the world for those 7-10 years! yeah! he's only pulled out of hiding when husk summons him to be the bartender for the hotel. vox is of course, extremely bewildered and demands answers. alastor doesnt give them and avoids him instead. it takes a sincere conversation with valentino in ep 4 for alastor to finally talk to vox again and explain himself. alastor is basically in extremely deep denial of just how fucked his life is. he clings onto his radio demon persona like a lifeline bc its the last thing that can help him feel some semblance of control over his situation. his tension with valentino is twofold - first they butt heads because of opposing personalities, and second because they both see the other's bullshittery. it's a clusterfuck it eventually bubbles over in ep 4, they both admit how absolutely fucked they are and are friends now. wish i could say more on al & val bc i love them very much but it seems ive run out of eloquency for now. though i know i'll draw some comics of them eventually so maybe it'll come across better in comic form. anyway as mentioned above ive run out of eloquency and im honestly not sure how coherent this whole thing is so you'll have to come back for the other characters some other time, dear anon! until then, thank you so much for the ask once again, and have a nice day/night :)
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teetle-time · 8 months
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…so the writing demons grabbed me by the throat this morning and wouldn't let me go until i wrote this. anyway @hasello the cousins au is living in my brain rent-free so i hope u don't mind that i took a crack at something first-meetings-y with rise and 03 and wound up with 2.5k words of the babies :D
The rat who once was Lou sprinted down the rain-slick alleyway with one arm clutching his boys to his chest and the other digging through his pockets.
"I saw it run this way!"
He bit back a curse; his pursuers were still hot on his trail.
And his tail.
Heh.
What a time to be alive.
The mystic key bumped against his fingers, and he quickly snatched it out of his pocket and darted to the nearest wall. He needed to be quick and precise.
…well, he at least managed speed. He spent too many precious seconds glancing back to watch the beams of light bounce ever higher just a turn away, so he really had no idea if his sigil was anywhere near accurate.
As if in answer to prayer, it lit up, opening a circular portal for him, and he leapt through without a second thought, pocketing the key as he fell.
His luck held out long enough for him to hear it close behind him without any of the humans chasing him shouting in surprise.
It did not hold out long enough to actually drop him into the Hidden City.
Instead, when the portal ended, he stumbled out into a long tunnel, directly in front of another rat with four humanoid turtles around them.
No-Longer-Lou froze like a deer in headlights, staring at the strangers and heaving for air.
The strangers all mirrored him, freezing in place and scanning him in all their various capacities.
The other rat spoke first: "My, isn't this unexpected?"
A snort forced its way from No-Longer-Lou against his will at that, though he quickly brought a hand (no, he had paws now) to his mouth to stifle it. "I- I'm so sorry, I just- I didn't mean to- This isn't where-!"
"Peace," said the other rat, carefully maneuvering the turtle in front of him a bit to the side and standing up. "Whatever circumstances brought you here, it is clear that you have been moved by the strings of fate, rather than by choices of your own design. You mean no harm to us, yes?"
"I-I- yes."
"And we mean no harm to you," soothed the other.
No-Longer-Lou breathed heavily for a moment more, but then his attention was quickly arrested by motion in his arms.
Raphael- the quickest to grow, but still so, so small- screwed up his face. "Papa?"
"I'm right here, Raphael," No-Longer-Lou murmured, reaching into the sling to give the boy's hand a squeeze.
The other rat's eyes widened at the name. "Now, that is a one-in-a-million chance, indeed."
"Why's he got a baby with my name?" demanded the turtle wearing a red mask over his eyes.
It was No-Longer-Lou's turn to be surprised. "Raphael? But then…"
He took in the colors of the masks on the other three turtle boys' faces.
Purple, blue, and orange.
"Donatello? Leonardo? M-Michelangelo?"
Silence.
At least, until the turtle boy in orange leaned over to his brothers and whispered loudly, "How does he know our names, dudes?!"
No-Longer-Lou's sons roused at their names, and he quickly realized his mistake as Michelangelo began to fuss. "Oh, oh, no, Michelangelo, please, it is alright, please don't-!"
Michelangelo may have been the youngest, but he had a record-shattering set of lungs, for sure.
The moment Michelangelo began to wail, Leonardo jumped in with him, refusing to be left out, and then Raphael was crying and Donatello was shoving his tiny head into No-Longer-Lou's chest with his hands over where his ears would have been and the rat could feel his own ears on the verge of bleeding-!
The other rat's back straightened, and he turned to the older turtle boys. "My sons, I still have some of the supplies I scavenged when you were tots. Raphael, the pacifiers. Leonardo and Donatello, the blankets. Michelangelo, the pillows."
The boys nodded seriously, wincing as the cries reached a peak before darting across the tunnel and digging through various chests and boxes. Meanwhile, the other rat carefully took No-Longer-Lou's arm and led him towards the chair the others had been gathered around in the first place. "Please, have a seat. I would quite like to hear the tale of how you came to this place-"
-an ear-splitting cry from Leonardo-
"-but first, we must calm your children," finished the other rat with a tired smile.
No-Longer-Lou nodded just as tiredly and began to gently bounce his boys. "There, there, your Papa is right here, we are all together, and…and we are safe."
The other rat's expression warmed.
"I got the pacifiers!" called the older boy named Raphael, charging back over and brandishing the four objects in one hand.
"Excellent work, Raphael," praised the other rat as he took the pacifiers.
The boy beamed.
"These should do for now," the other rat said, pressing one into No-Longer-Lou's paw. "These were enchanted by an old friend of mine to allow them to keep up with beaked babies."
No-Longer-Lou managed a weak smile at that, then carefully reached in to nudge the pacifier against Michelangelo's mouth. "Here we are, little Orange. Wouldn't it be nicer to suck on this instead of crying?"
Michelangelo hiccuped, but after a moment of what seemed like confusion, his mouth closed around the pacifier and he looked up at No-Longer-Lou with wide, wet eyes.
"One down, two to go," chuckled the other rat, handing off another pacifier. This one went to Leonardo, who contented himself quickly once he had something to do with himself. He seemed to be gnawing on the pacifier, rather than sucking on it, but No-Longer-Lou chalked it up to curiosity at the foreign object.
Surprisingly- or perhaps not- Donatello was the next one to need something to work with. Raphael began calming down after a few moments of being the only one still crying, but when Donatello caught sight of Leonardo messing with the pacifier, he turned an utterly betrayed stare up at No-Longer-Lou until he gave the boy one to fiddle with.
With the remaining pacifier in hand, No-Longer-Lou smiled wearily at Raphael. "You may be a bit big to use this, Red. Do you still want to try?"
Raphael nodded firmly. "Raphie's the big brother. Gotta be the bestest essample."
No-Longer-Lou handed the pacifier over, and…yep, it was completely dwarfed by his son. Still, his boy held it in his mouth and smiled over at Michelangelo when the two met eyes.
Michelangelo blinked, then smiled back.
"Blanket delivery!" called the bigger Donatello, carrying a pile of blankets nearly as tall as he was.
Next to him, his brother Leonardo fussed. "Donnie, I told you I could have held some!"
"Easy, Leonardo," chuckled the other rat, easily lifting the blankets from Donatello's hands. "How about you make sure our visitors are tucked in and comfortable?"
"Okay, Father," chirped Leonardo, immediately doing exactly that- and perhaps peeking into No-Longer-Lou's arms a few times to peer at his boys.
Little Raphael watched the bigger boy curiously, then said around the pacifier, "Raphie thought we were th'only turtle people."
The bigger Leonardo paused for a moment, then looked at him. "So'd we."
Leonardo- the baby- met the other Leonardo's eyes, then spat out his pacifier- and yes, it was much more chewed-on than before. "Hi! Hi, hi, hi! I'm Leo!"
The other Leonardo blinked, then grinned. "Me too. It's a good name, right?"
Little Leonardo nodded, shaking his entire body from the effort. "Daddy pickeded it!"
No-Longer-Lou chuckled. "Feeling better now, are we?"
Little Leonardo nodded again, just as energetically. "Mikey no sad no more!"
"Did somebody say Mikey?!" crowed the older boy of the same name, wildly waving pillows over his head as he ran over.
"Midey! Midey! Midey!" cheered the baby around his pacifier, flailing his arms.
"That's right, little dude!" Older Michelangelo grinned and peered over at him as soon as he skidded to a stop in front of No-Longer-Lou. "We're the mightiest!"
"MIDEYST!" shrieked the baby in glee.
Little Donatello winced and paused his inspection of his pacifier to glare witheringly at his youngest brother.
"Careful, Michelangelo," chastised No-Longer-Lou. "Your brother has sensitive hearing, remember?"
Baby Michelangelo blinked, then frowned very seriously and wiggled until he was able to grab Little Donatello's arm in a hug- or rather, a- "Dondon hubbub."
Little Donatello's glare softened, and he went back to fiddling with the pacifier with his free hand. It seemed the hinge on the back occupied more of his attention than the squishy part meant to be sucked on.
The older Michelangelo pressed the pillows in his hands to his face. "D'awww, they're so cute!"
No-Longer-Lou smiled warmly. "They are, aren't they?"
"It seems like we've established that we have similar taste in names," chuckled the other rat. "Though, just to be sure, might I ask yours?"
No-Longer-Lou's smile turned bitter. "It doesn't matter. I'm only a splinter of the man I used to be, anyway."
The other rat's eyebrows rose. "What curious phrasing. I never was a man, but the name I was given before my mutation by the family I was brought into was…well, Splinter."
No-Longer-Lou straightened in the chair at that. "Curious indeed…"
After a moment of thought, on a half-formed hunch born of one too many late night sci-fi movie marathons, he continued, "You know, before my own mutation, I'd more-or-less befriended a rat in my- well. A rat. I…I'd chosen the name Lou Jitsu years ago, but…the name I was given was Yoshi."
A shaky breath from Splinter. "…Hamato Yoshi?"
No-Longer-Lou steadfastly kept his focus on his boys. "I haven't deserved that name in a long time."
He kept the part about not wanting to be associated with his family's 'traditions' firmly unsaid.
"You okay, Papa?" asked Raphael, reaching up to pat at his face.
"I will be," No-Longer-Lou said, pressing a kiss to the boy's forehead.
Splinter gently laid a hand on No-Longer-Lou's shoulder. "I swear to you, you and your children will be safe here for as long as you need. I don't know how you came to be here, but I will help you return home if you so wish."
No-Longer-Lou nodded, thickness rising up in his throat and clogging it.
"Mr. Lou, can I see Baby Mikey?" asked the older Michelangelo, setting the pillows down.
Both rats' eyebrows rose, and Splinter asked, "Mr. Lou?"
"Well, if he doesn't use that Yoshi name, and we can't call him Splinter because you're Splinter, then he's Mr. Lou!" Older Michelangelo crossed his arms and nodded decisively, his point made.
Splinter and…and Lou met each other's eyes with equally bemused expressions, then Lou looked down at his boys. "I don't know. Orange, would you like to see Big Michelangelo?"
"Bihmidey!" Michelangelo said seriously, patting at Donatello's arm before wriggling upright and peeking out at the older boy. "Bihmidey hi?"
"Heh, yep," said Older Michelangelo, beaming widely. "Hi, li'l Mikey!"
The baby chirped excitedly, bouncing in place until Older Michelangelo reached over to pick him up. Lou watched carefully, but it seemed the older boy had at least some idea of how to hold a young child, as he easily hefted Little Michelangelo against his side.
"I wanna see the babies!" exclaimed Older Leonardo.
"Me too!"
"Yeah!"
Little Leonardo giggled and clambered out of Lou's arms too quickly for him to react. "Hey, hey, hi! I'm big boy!"
Older Raphael darted forward to keep Little Leo from tumbling to the ground. "You sure are, yeesh! Don't hurt yourself!"
Little Raphael whined. "Leo, don't fall down like that! You'll get a owie!"
"S'okay, Raphie!" Little Leonardo grinned up at his brother, then at Older Raphael. "There's two Raphies! That's even more Raphie! Gonna be saferest!"
Little Raphael whined again, but after a brief moment where Older Raphael's eyes grew suspiciously moist, the older boy blinked quickly before grinning at his younger double. "You heard 'im. I'll keep your bro outta trouble, swear."
Little Raphael scowled. "You better."
"Did you want to come out and keep an eye on them?" asked Older Leonardo knowingly.
That got a nod out of Little Raphael, and the older boy helped him climb down to the ground.
With only Donatello left in his arms, Lou couldn't find it in himself to be surprised when the older Donatello peered at the younger boy. "What about you, Tinytello? You wanna come hang out?"
Little Donatello hissed in displeasure and flipped the hinged handle on the pacifier up and down more quickly.
"I'm guessing that's a 'no,' then," said Lou. "It's nothing against you, I promise. Today has simply been…a lot."
"Oh, I can get that," agreed Older Donatello immediately. "Like, I dunno what you were doing before you came here, but it didn't look very fun. And now a bunch of big brother wannabes are getting all up in his space and playing with his bros without him? I'd be on-edge, too."
Little Donatello's handle-flipping stilled, and he shifted to look at Older Donatello's chest. (Wasn't there a turtle-specific word for that part of their shells…?)
"I'm close, huh?" asked Older Donatello. "Figured it'd be something like that. That's okay, Tinytello! Sounds like you've been having a rough time of it. Do you want me to go do something else, or should I stay put?"
Little Donatello's forehead furrowed for a moment, then he gravely held the pacifier out to the older boy.
Lou's brows shot up. "Huh. I know Purple is unique in many ways, but he usually isn't so quick to decide a stranger is worthy of a gift…even if that gift belonged to the stranger, first."
Little Donatello frowned when Older Donatello didn't immediately take the pacifier, then gave the handle a demonstrative flip before shaking the pacifier a little.
Older Donatello's eyes widened, and he carefully took the pacifier and gave the handle a tentative flip.
Little Donatello chirruped, shifting in place to get comfy in the crook of Lou's elbow in such a way as to keep watching the older boy.
Splinter chuckled as the two Donatellos went back and forth, flipping and chirping. "I do believe your son has found a new friend in mine."
Lou huffed a weak laugh of his own. "I suppose he has."
He took the opportunity to scan the tunnel- or rather, now that he had a moment to think, the room within the tunnel.
Little Raphael and Older Leonardo stood aside as Little Leonardo cartwheeled in circles, ooh-ing and aah-ing whenever the younger boy glanced their way. Older Raphael kept a hawklike eye on the toddler, constantly circling around him to place himself between Leonardo and the nearest obstacles. Older Michelangelo hopped around the room, bouncing the baby with each hop and getting the both of them to giggle madly.
Little Donatello yawned contentedly and smushed the side of his face against Lou's arm, still watching Older Donatello bemusedly flip the handle of the pacifier.
Lou felt the adrenaline that had kept him moving for the past hour finally begin to drain, and it quickly became a struggle to keep his eyes open.
Splinter's hand came down on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Rest, Lou. You and your sons are safe here. The rest can wait for now."
Lou nodded tiredly, and his eyes fluttered shut before he could have any further say in the matter.
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wolfpants · 6 months
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harry potter's most miserable year - chapter one | a drarry bridget jones fic
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Roll up roll up, it's the Drarry Bridget Jones adaptation no one asked for!
This concept has been living rent free in my brain for months. I just had to get it out. Thank you so much to my little team of readers and betas: @getawayfox @citrusses @oknowkiss, thank you for indulging my crazy ideas and allowing me to write this nonsense.
Harry Potter's Most Miserable Year | Chapter One
Rating: E Relationships: Harry/Draco (endgame); Harry/Theo; past Draco/OMC, Minor Dean/Ginny, Minor Ron/Hermione, Minor Justin/Ernie, Minor Luna/Neville Tags: Endgame Drarry, EWE, POV Harry, Quidditch, Quidditch Manager Harry, Quidditch Player Draco, Sports Journalist Theo, Romantic Comedy, Romance, Diaries, New Year's Resolutions, Human Disaster Harry, Buttoned-up Draco, (a lot of) smoking, (a lot of) drinking, Recreational Drug Use, Explict Sexual Content, Banter, Pubs, London, Friendship, Charity Balls, Romione's naughty children, Dinner Parties, life in your 30s, Lying/Emotional Deceit, Smear Campaign, Infedeility (but not between Drarry)
After running into Malfoy at a New Year's Day party and overhearing some choice opinions he has on Harry’s character, Harry decides to change his life for good. Quit smoking, drink less, dress better, excel at his brand new role as Puddlemere’s manager, and find a nice, adult man he can settle down with. Sounds easy, right?
“What’s he like, then?” Ron asked a second later, suddenly at Harry’s side, plate piled high with turkey curry and rice.  Harry patted his pockets for his cigarettes. “A dickhead.” Ron laughed heartily. “Ha. I was right.”
read chapter one on ao3
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omg we're mutuals??? i'm flattered honestly since my only other moot (do people say that?) is my rp partner/bestie so i feel like that doesn't really count. so like, i've never done a request before, and i never get requests (defo not sulking abt that lol) but can i maybe get some ace content? i have no idea why i like him so much honestly since he's a lil shit (affectionate), but i do and i have to live with it now. i'm terrible at coming up with shorter prompt ideas, which is probably why i've never requested from anyone before, so sorry that this is so vague. i give you creative license to write whatever you want, just no angst plz. is it weird for a self-proclaimed angst writer to specifically not want angst for their requests? i dunno. feel free to delete this if it's not what you're feeling at the time or i've somehow violated your rules, which i did read. sorry, i talk way too much.
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AN: Hi! Don't worry about talking too much, I enjoyed reading it! And I agree, Ace is a little shit, but he's also very cute and occupies space in my brain without paying rent :(
Jokes aside, I hope you like this just as much as I liked writing it! May we never be cured of the loving Ace disease <3
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Prompt: can i maybe get some ace content? i have no idea why i like him so much honestly since he's a lil shit (affectionate), but i do and i have to live with it now.
Pairing: Ace Trappola x GN!Reader/Prefect/Yuu
Genre: Fluff
TW: NA
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Ace was a menace.
A menace of the highest degree, whose sole purpose in life sometimes seemed to be making you burst a vein with irritation.
A menace who was holding out a bouquet of roses for you, trying to act nonchalant even as his cheeks were tinted a soft red. His eyes were hidden by his sunglasses, but you had no doubt that they were focused on you and your reaction.
"What's this?" You hummed, taking the bouquet and cradling it in your arms. For something that looked so elegant and dainty it sure was heavy, and you were wondering how long Ace had stood outside Ramshackle with them before finally ringing the bell.
Ace cleared his throat, breaking you out of your reverie. He looked effortlessly stylish in everything he wore, but it seemed like he had taken special care with his appearance for today. If he'd given you a warning, maybe you'd have changed into something nicer than your pajamas...
"I, um, I came here to ask you something," he said, voice somber as if he was going to give you bad news. 'But who gives bad news with a bouquet of roses?' You thought to yourself, pushing down the part of you that was ready to overthink the smallest of incidents. You nodded to him to continue.
"Will... uh, will you be m-my Valentine this year?" He trailed off at the end of his sentence, voice breaking slightly. You blinked.
"Your Valentine?"
Ace made a face of indignation at your question. "Oh no, I was actually speaking on behalf of Deuce. Look, there he is, right where you left your last braincell," he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Are you trying to make me say no?" You asked, narrowing your eyes at him. Shifting the bouquet to one hand, you acted as if you were going to close the door with him still outside. Not that you actually would, but it was still fun to see his eyes widen comically at your action, hand shooting out to stall for time.
"Wait, no that– don't take everything so seriously," he whined, holding the door to stop you from shutting it in his face. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, letting go of the door but turning and making your way inside. With your back turned to him, you smiled.
"Come in and help me find a vase for these roses," you said, and Ace followed you obediently, refraining from making any other sarcastic remarks that would have him stand outside the house as though he were in timeout for misbehaving.
Once you found a vase big enough to hold all the roses, you filled it with water. As you placed the flowers in it, you felt two strong arms circling your waist and a weight settling on your shoulder.
"So... be my valentine?" He asked again, voice slightly muffled against your shoulder.
"Give me one good reason to be your valentine," you hummed, not relenting even as Ace whined about you being unfair to him, he got you roses, how could you be so cruel—
Every indignant rise and fall of his voice had the smile on your lips growing and the urge to burst out laughing increasing. You bit your lip to stifle your amusement, but he caught it anyways.
"You little– you were trying to make me beg for it, huh?" He accused you, voice playful as he poked your sides. A peal of laughter left you as you tried to dodge his pokes, your hands swatting at his.
"Stop it!"
"Not until you say yes!"
Breaking free from his hold, you ran to the living room, your giggles filling the air as Ace followed, hot on your trail. You were fast, but Ace was faster, and you blamed hisbeing a member of the basketball club for him managing to foil all your attempts at getting away.
Pinned under him on the couch, you squirmed as he continued tickling you. Laughter left you both breathless and red in the face, and you wheezed when Ace decided to flop on top of you, his weight pressing your body down against the couch.
You hit him lightly at his shoulder. "Get off, you're heavy!"
"Nope. That's what you get for being a brat and trying to make me beg for you to be my valentine when you and I both know your answer'd be yes."
You stuck your tongue out at him, and he mirrored your actions, before he made himself comfortable against you and settled against your chest.
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scaranation · 1 year
Note
I saw that requests were still open and I crawled back from the firey pits of hell to offer you Scaramouche brain rott along with a personal AU that hit me like a foking brick like two days ago.
So first off. Imagine if you will. That Mr. McGrump wasn't actually just one entity but actually a trio of twin brothers that wandered around Teyvat known as the "the trio of eccentrics". They despise each other (cuz of course they do) but decide to travel together cuz no matter how hard they try to NOT bump into each other, the world is just so big for a trio of dumbasses that are chaotic on their own right.
They cannot get along to save their lives. The amount of times Scaramouche and Wanderer have gotten smacked on the face with Kabukimono's smithing hammer are just too many to count. Not to mention that as feeble as he appears to be he has a scarily good aim much to his brother's previous dismay as they have been greeted with a flying hammer to the back of the head multiple times when they have run into each other "by chance" before.
People tend just get confused when one of them randomly spawns on a town and seemingly sprout two other clones like some kind of mitosis type shit until they realize it's just a trio of siblings.
I also low-key feel y/n would accidentally bump and help all of them separatedly by chance only for them to all either think of them fondly or straight up have a little crush on them. I can just see Kabuki rambling to wanderer how some sweet person saved him from a hoard of electro slimes only for him to remember how someone offered to invite him to some food in one of his travels similar to the one his brother mentioned. Only for Scara to interrupt demanding if they were talking about this one very specific person that offered him shelter that one time he was injured after some misión or something. Cue y/n casually walking by and all of them losing their collective shit cuz HOLY SHIT THAT'S THEM- WAIT WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU KNOW THEM TOO????? And thus the quest of winning over the kind stranger begins.
Idk if this was even mildly entertaining but this idea has been eating my brain for days and needed to spew it somewhere. Love your work! ✨✨✨
OMLL HOWW YOUR BRAINROTS ARE SO GOOD I CANT 😭😭 this took me a while to write but i had to get everything out to even do this idea some justice it’s got me giggling fr
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༊*·˚ 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄
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ft. Scaramouche, Kabukimono, Wanderer
Content: fluff, crack (but treated seriously)
a/n - innocent Kabukimono just lives rent free in my heart omlll like just imagine a less traumatised Scara <33
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The trio of short haired, violet-eyed wanderers (also known as “the trio of eccentrics” by the local children) were a common sight in Teyvat. Prior to the revelation that they were, in fact, siblings, people had believed that they were either a teleporting ghost or some human aphid with miraculous cloning abilities. That was until someone saw two of the them in the same room, and connected the dots.
Scaramouche, the Wanderer, and Kabukimono were inseparable - not of their own will, of course. On their erratic, impulsive routes across Sumeru, they’d somehow cross paths more often than they wanted. In fact, they’d made an effort to avoid each other. The Wanderer had retreated all the way to the Hypostyle Desert, cackling at his own genius. Unfortunately, he also found Scaramouche and Kabukimono at the desert too - both dumbfounded at the ridiculous situation. Somehow, all three of them had simultaneously decided that hiding in the desert to not see each other was a great idea.
“What are you doing here?” the Wanderer had blurted.
“No, what are you doing here? I had this idea yesterday!” Kabukimono cried.
“Both of you, get out of my sight. I hatched this plan two weeks ago.” Scaramouche grumbled.
“Oh, how diabolical and calculating you are,” the Wanderer rolled his eyes, as though he wasn’t just praising himself for what he thought was the most intelligent idea to ever exist.
“Fine, I’ll leave first.” Kabukimono sighed. Perhaps it was because he was the youngest, but he was always ended up giving in to his brothers.
“Pushover,” the Wanderer smirked.
“Says the unemployed one,” Scaramouche scoffed.
“At least I have a vision.”
“Shut up.”
The many other times the trio convened by accident, two of them weren’t even conscious to fully process their irritation. The moment Kabukimono spotted Scaramouche or the Wanderer at his favourite resting place, he’d let loose his hammer - striking them on the back of the head with scary aim. He’d congratulate himself if he managed to score a concussion, too. It wasn’t as though the others didn’t defend themselves equally vigorously. If they couldn’t settle things with words, the brothers would just break out into fighting.
Things were especially bad when the Wanderer got ahold of Kabukimono’s hammer. Upon wrestling it out of the blacksmith’s grip, the Wanderer would flit into the air, gleefully holding the hammer out of reach until Scaramouche had enough and struck him down with a bolt of lightning.
“You look like a fly when you do that, you know?”
“You’re just jealous.”
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Somehow, you were always at the centre of the trio’s unpredictable paths of destruction across Teyvat. You never really guessed at the connection between them, only dismissing it as a mere coincidence that you’d developed a fondness for three purple haired, short-tempered travellers.
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As an adventurer, you’d first met Kabukimono on one of your errands.
“Stay away!”
You heard the clanging of something heavy on your inspection in Guyun, turning around to locate the source of the voice.
You followed the commotion around past the domain you’d just exited from, finding a crevice tucked away into a small beach-like area. Clumps of electro crystals clung to the stone walls of the cove, the lapping of the waves only perpetuating the intense elemental reactions. At the centre of it all was a strangely dressed man, being attacked by a hoard of electro slimes. He flailed around with a blacksmith’s hammer, presumably caught in his own attempt to mine valuable ores for a project.
His clothes looked to be of Inazuman attire, too - what was an Inazuman doing, looking for electro crystals all the way out in Liyue?
“Do you need help?” You crouched down, a little hesitant over whether or not it was obligatory for you to jump into the electro-charged mess.
“It… certainly looks like it, doesn’t it?” The man flashed you a defeated smile. Luckily, as a pyro vision holder, it wasn’t too difficult for you to deal with the slimes. With a brief flash of your vision, you also mined the ores for the stranger as well.
“Ah! So they require elemental triggers to be mined. No wonder it was taking me so long. Thank you, by the way - I’m Kabukimono.” The stranger extended a hand. You took it, but he didn’t shake it. The two of you stood there awkwardly for a moment, before he released your hand.
“Ah, sorry… That’s what I see people at the workshop do when they meet someone new. Is it strange?”
“No, of course not! You usually shake the hand after holding it, though.” You quipped helpfully.
“Oh.” A flush spread across his cheeks. He thanked you vehemently once again, insisting on offering you some spare iron in exchange for your help.
“Travel safe!” You called after Kabukimono, as he hurried off. He was a little strange, but his awkwardness was rather endearing. You smiled and shook your head, before resuming work and thinking nothing more of the entire ordeal.
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Unlike Kabukimono, the second of the trio you met was a lot more irritable. You met the Wanderer at some food stalls in Sumeru city, almost mistaking him for the acquaintance you’d met in Guyun - only to be quickly corrected by his vastly different attitude.
“Watch it.” The stranger that looked suspiciously like Kabukimono (but with a remarkably more hostile, pointed gaze) shoved past you.
“These lavender melons. How much do they cost?” Not-Kabukimono asked the vendor, tapping his foot impatiently.
“Uh, 200 mora-”
“What? Who sells trash like this so expensively? Forget it, I didn’t want them anyway.” The Wanderer scoffed, turning to leave before you quickly grabbed him.
“If you’re hungry, you can eat at my place. I have some leftovers,” you offered. He narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously.
“Why are you helping me? Is this a poisoning attempt?”
“No… You just remind me of an acquaintance of mine, so I thought I’d look out for you.”
“Pfft, I don’t need your baseless concern.”
At that moment, the man’s stomach grumbled. The two of you made eye contact, before reaching a silent agreement.
“My house is that way,” you pointed, as the stranger begrudgingly followed you.
Even if he didn’t say so, the stranger most definitely enjoyed your cooking. After introducing himself as the Wanderer, he was quick to open up - always stopping by to visit (claiming that you were a convenient dining place for his travels).
Whenever he stopped by, you’d laugh and cook him a warm meal - it almost felt like home to him, or at least what he thought a home was. He never really had one, nor did he care for the notion, but this arrangement was quite pleasant for him. If the Wanderer was in a good mood, he’d even share some of his travelling stories with you. He’d boast about the enemies he defeated in the wilderness, complain about the stupidity of mortals, before giving you the rare piece of acknowledgement (“you know, your cooking is edible,” or “it’s definitely not poisoned,” etc.).
You quickly grew to anticipate his sporadic visits, getting an understanding of what kind of food he preferred. You weren’t sad when he didn’t arrive, and the two of you thrived off a mutual relationship. The Wanderer was surely different from your other companion, but that didn’t make him any less welcome.
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Lastly, you’d met Scaramouche on an ominous rainy day. Or, rather, he’d been deposited on your doorstep.
“I don’t remember ordering a parcel…” You peered out into your doorway, squinting through the lashing rain - before realising that this ‘parcel’ was very much human-shaped.
With a surprised gasp, you dragged the figure inside as carefully as you could, wincing at the blood mixed with rainwater that swirled across his smooth skin. Peeling back the heavy layers of his outer coat, you took off the man’s hat to gape again in shock.
“Kabukimono?” You spluttered.
“Who are you calling Kabukimono?” The stranger snapped, sitting up slowly.
“Wanderer?” You tried again, guessing based on the man’s furious expression.
“Hah, you dare to…”
Before the stranger (that was neither Kabukimono nor the Wanderer) could finish his sentence, he passed out again in a haze of dizzying unconsciousness.
The man’s deep indigo eyes fluttered open a while later to the sight of you tending his wounds. He immediately flinched away, looking at you incredulously.
“Who are you? Why am I here?”
“You quite literally passed out on my porch, then again in my house. Don’t you remember?” You quirked an eyebrow.
“You dare gaslight a Fatui Harbinger? Try as hard as you want, but I won’t be giving you financial compensation for this.”
“You’re… a Harbinger…?” You frowned. He sure acted and looked a lot like the Wanderer - perhaps he’d hit his head a little too hard.
“Yes, Scaramouche. I’m better known as the Balladeer, of course.”
“I’ve never heard of you.”
“Well, then that just means we’re doing a great job of maintaining confidentiality.” Scaramouche huffed, allowing you to continue wrapping bandages around the deep gashes on his body. You chuckled at his demeanour.
“I’m not expecting anything in return for this.” You offered, leaning back to scrutinise your medical work. Years of adventuring had given you experience in this sort of thing, but your expertise was still lacking.
“Then why? Don’t tell me, you believe in kindness?”
“Anyone would do this if they found a stranger half-dead at their door in the pouring rain.” You rolled your eyes.
“I was not half-dead, and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Scaramouche huffed, and you almost gawked at how similar he was to the Wanderer.
“Um, do you happen to know anyone named… Uh…” You hesitated under your new acquaintance’s fierce gaze.
“Named what? Do I look like an Akasha terminal to you?”
“Never mind.” You quickly shut your mouth. Perhaps it was just a coincidence.
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It took a few months before the trio finally figured out they had a mutual connection. They’d all visited you countless times, and yet were lucky enough not to encounter each other - that was, until they finally began talking about their latest travel experiences upon having a chance meeting in Sumeru.
“Hm, perhaps this is what mortals call… comradeship…” Kabukimono mused to his brothers one day.
“Feeling a little amicable, Kabukimono?” Scaramouche sneered. He eyed the glimmering purple blade Kabukimono flipped over in his hands.
“There was this adventurer who saved me from some electro slimes once. It was because of them that I could fashion this dagger… Humans really are compassionate.” Kabukimono mused. He happily smiled to himself at the reminder of you.
“You’re so naive, brother. After all, mortals are only driven by fair exchange. Nobody would help without expecting it return - ah, there is one exception. There was this person I met who offered me food. I’ve been having free meals with them for months, and they don’t even know how I’m taking advantage of them! How immature they are, selflessly acting like that. It almost makes me concerned for their well-being,” the Wanderer chuckled.
“I don’t think you’re taking advantage of them if you’re… just accepting the free meals they give you. It almost seems they have you wrapped around their finger.” Scaramouche snickered.
“You wouldn’t understand the idea of a mutually beneficial relationship. In fact, have you even talked to a living being other than your colleagues in the last week?”
“Yes, you, and a certain traveller who took me in after I was injured in a mission-”
“You got injured? How pathetic.”
“It was a calculated risk. Anyway, they gave me shelter and treated all my wounds without asking for mora once. And they even let me stay over long after I’d healed, too. Mortals are so foolish, to be blindly trusting. I could’ve snapped their throat in a second.”
The three brothers agreed on the extremely rare and (questionably naive) selflessness of humans.
Then, a beat of silence passed before a revelation dawned on them.
“Isn’t it weird that we’ve all met a strange, helpful adventurer?” Kabukimono murmured.
“Exactly what I was thinking. Surely not all humans are like this.” Scaramouche nodded.
“Maybe foolishness is more common than we thought…?” The Wanderer suggested, but an uneasy feeling was dawning on him as he began to connect the dots.
“Say, does the traveller you two met live near the Grand Bazaar?” Scaramouche prodded.
“Yes.” Kabukimono and the Wanderer responded simultaneously.
“And they have an adventurer’s bandana? With a Mondstadtian clock in the front room of their house?”
“Yes- YOU TWO KNOW THEM AS WELL?” Kabukimono spluttered.
The Wanderer only heaved a large sigh. He was so close to showing off that he had a new friend, only to realise that the new friend was also acquainted with both his brothers.
“How bothersome, it seems you’re already close with them.” Scaramouche raised an eyebrow.
“Of course I am! I met them first, after all.” Kabukimono insisted.
“Both of you, be quiet. I’m going to their place now.” The Wanderer pushed back his chair.
“Hey! I was planning to visit them too!”
The scraping of chairs resounded as the remaining two brothers hurriedly rushed to get to your house.
Any other person would probably pass out from fear at seeing all three of the notorious trio appear at their door. You, however, only shot them a bemused look and ushered them in.
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Once the three realised they had competition, Scaramouche, the Wanderer, and Kabukimono would be unrelenting in competing for your attention.
It was quite comical at times - you’d barely have to say anything and one of them would appear, diligently doing tasks for you and looking back at you eagerly for praise. It seemed almost strange to consider that these three had been marvelling at your profound naiveness only a few days ago, and were now basically at your beck and call.
Scaramouche would definitely be the most demanding. Whether it was a hand on your elbow or a risky grip on your wrist, he made sure you were close to him and sought your undivided attention. He’d recklessly snap out searing insults at anyone else, before getting ahold of himself and stating that he was merely defending a poor, foolish soul from being taken advantage of by some calculating purple-haired villain. Not him though, he’d never do anything like that.
The Wanderer (like his name) was more relaxed - he could go without your eyes on him at all times, and he’d drift in and out as he pleased. However, he did see himself as being entitled to your energy whenever he did happen to stop by. Occasionally, he’d even offer to take you on a scenic flight across Teyvat. After you’d tried it once, you were quick to refuse his latter offers - zooming across rooftops at breakneck speed was not your forte. The Wanderer huffed at your reluctance and accused you of denying his altruistic favour, but made an effort to do things you liked regardless.
Kabukimono was fiercely shy. He’d always bring you trinkets - small mechanisms or self-defends tools he’d fashioned from spare parts during his work as a blacksmith. He’d press them into your hands self-consciously, unable to bite back a smile when you praised his handiwork. He wouldn’t hesitate to stand up against his much fiercer brothers if it was for you, holding you in a tight embrace whenever you’d let him.
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And so, as it happened, it seemed as though “the eccentric trio” simply couldn’t escape each other. As if by some ill-humoured joke, they all ended up liking the same person. The only issue was, being that person, you now had to deal with all three of them at once.
As if one wasn’t enough, you now had triple the trouble.
༊*·˚
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angelicarchon · 4 months
Text
in the midst of writing a sambastian fic becos they've lived rent free in my brain for like, ever, but especially in the past month or so that i've been into stardew again, and i wanted to ramble a little about my thought process behind it real quick. 
my running theory is that seb fell first (years and YEARS ago) and sam fell harder. because i adore that trope. 
i think sebastian has always loved sam (platonically, then eventually romantically) and for one reason or another (reasons being low self esteem and that realistically he probably thinks sam is straight) just defaulted to assuming sam would never like him that way. 
but when sam started liking sebastian, it was completely out of left field and sam had no idea what to do but try to act normal. Emphasis on trying to be normal though because he is a disaster. 
but theyre so close on every level that it confuses sam and he just. doesnt Know.
i dont think sam's feelings were an "all of the sudden, he woke up one day and was in love with him" thing but more of him slowly realizing the way he feels for sebastian is beyond platonic because sam wants to be close to sebastian, physically and emotionally, in ways he doesnt really want to with anyone else. 
but seb is way too convinced sam would never like him to realize that sam is completely and entirely head in love with him… FOR A WHILE. but eventually love wins because some plot or emotional catalyst and they kiss muah muah muah
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sweaterkittensahoy · 3 months
Note
I found your post about inbox empty and no camp requests literally five minutes after opening the tumblr post episode 8. Were you summoned? Was I? Who cares.
I haven’t had the time to properly comment on your 2buck sexy prompt fill but please do know I will BECAUSE IT HAS BEEN LIVING RENT FREE IN MY HEAD. So fucking well written (pace, words, characterizations, aaaaah). I ramble, sorry.
Back to the point at hand, PROMPT(s) for my two favorite idiots (Buck/Bucky):
- post war bliss, let’s heal the boys a bit and give them their happiness
- set whenever, possessive Gale (boy is 100% unhinged, called it day 1 when Greenland tower control told him to circle back and he just floored it like a goddamn pro)
- magpie behavior John, he just collects stuff for Gale and brings it to him, it’s a character trait (bikes, shit needed to make a crystal radio, boy just does)
- observer Gale, he just loves the physicality John moves in when he’s in Major mode and when he gets the rare chance to look without being seen or having to worry what is seen on his face he just looks and lets himself feel it
- talismans, I love the idea of both of them having something that means ‘I am of my beloved and my beloved is of mine’
- literally whatever other sexy scenario you can concoct, your whiskey one has rewired a couple of circuits in my brain
- soulmarks, on the basis that I’m a sucker for them
Bonus for good ole Benny De Marco as Gale’s keeper when John isn’t around while at the same time John’s handler when Gale’s not there (ngl this is because of the way Buck yells De Marco’s name in the pilot, my boys are MATES™️).
I am afraid I single-handedly murdered your inbox, please forgive me.
Thank you in advance and cheers ✨❤️
(These are all amazing, and I would like to encourage anyone who is reading this and gets an idea from one of these to write you one of the ones I don't [or write the one I did but as your own thing!])
In the barracks, each bed comes with a side table. It has a drawer and a lamp. Most of the boys keep a photo of a loved one on the top, a skin mag in the drawer, and whatever they carry in their pockets each day next to the photo.
Buck's is different because he keeps whatever he carries in his pockets in the drawer, and on the table itself is a collection of random objects that look like he's collecting odds and ends with no real sense. Amongst the clutter are the following things:
A skeleton key with a filigree 'G' carved into the head.
A rock that shines when the sunlight hits it during the day.
A broken bracelet made of blue stones.
A tiny piece of foil shaped into an oak leaf cluster.
The first time a replacement asks about it--because Major Cleven doesn't seem the type to collect odds and ends--Demarco barks a laugh and buys the replacement a drink.
"It's not Cleven's collection. Well, it is. But it's not."
The replacement stares at Demarco. "Uh-huh. Clear as mud."
Demarco sighs. "They're all his, but he didn't pick them, okay?"
"That's no clearer."
Demarco shrugs. "You'll figure it out."
A week later, the replacement is reading in his bunk when Major Egan walks in, giggly and flushed from drinking. He drops hard onto Major Cleven's bed. Major Cleven is--or was--sleeping, but he wakes up and huffs a laugh and says as calm and even as he seems to do everything. "What are you up to?"
Major Egan holds out a hand. "Look what I found!"
Major Cleven squints at Major Egan's hand. "It's a penny."
"No, look closer," Major Egan says. He picks up the penny with his other hand and holds it very close to Major Cleven's eyes. "Look."
Major Cleven grabs Major Egan's wrist and pulls it back a few inches. He squints at the penny, then reaches over and flicks on his lamp. He squints at the penny again. "It's still a penny, John."
"No, it's your birth year," Major Egan says. "See?" He points. "And I found it heads up! It's double good luck for you."
The replacement suddenly realizes neither of them have clocked that he's there. He coughs politely, and suddenly, both Majors are looking at him.
"Is this your first time experiencing Major Egan in his magpie form?" Major Cleven asks.
"Uh," the replacement says.
"He acts like it's silly, but he keeps all of them," Major Egan says, gesturing to Major Cleven.
The replacement expects Major Cleven to scoff or shove Major Egan off his bed. Instead, he smiles and holds out his hand.
"I don't act like it's silly," Major Cleven says and looks at his table for a long moment before setting down very precisely. "I just can't follow your booze-soaked reasoning when you wake me up in the middle of the night."
Major Egan flops sideways so he's taking over half of Major Cleven's bed. "It's only ten, you old man."
Major Cleven stares at Major Egan. "We have an audience, John."
"Eh," Major Egan says and rolls over, stealing Major Cleven's pillow.
"Hey, give that back!" Major Cleven says, yanking the pillow, but Major Egan isn't giving it up.
The replacement doesn't know what to do, so he goes back to his book. The next night at the officer's club, he buys Demarco a drink.
"What was it this time?" Demarco asks.
"A penny from his birth year that he found face up."
Demarco bursts into laughter. "Oh, that's a whole new level of lovesick."
"Are they together?"
"Joined at the hip and a few other parts," Demarco says, then downs his drink. He slaps the replacement on the back. "Come on. I'll let you tell Brady what the latest one is. He'll love it."
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wayfayrr · 1 year
Text
I would dye for you
so this was inspired by a mix of an ask on @cloudninetonine's account and a couple of details from something I did in totk, but there aren't any story spoilers there's just a screenshot at the bottom.
This is a little fluff side story for something else I'm writing, where Wild and the reader get tossed into reader's world and split from the rest of the yandere chain. I might flesh this out into more of an au but as of now but honestly, this idea just lives rent-free in my brain
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"so you’re sure, like completely sure this is what you want"
"I want to try something new, besides it's not like I'll get the chance to have you do this for me again anytime soon, is it? And you’re the one who suggested I should change things up so I don’t get recognised, why not do it like this? "
Wild lifted their arms with the giddiest smile on their face, a box of temporary dye held like the most precious treasure they could've found. Deep cobalt blue, awfully reminiscent of someone’s scarf, just enough to cover all of his hair to hopefully stop the instant recognition of him on the streets wherever the both of you go. 
After the initial shock of them falling through the portal with you back into the real world, if you could even call Hyrule fictional after everything you went through there; after their shock and excitement died down to a reasonable-ish level. The both of you decided perhaps something should be done so people don’t instantly recognise him as Link - the protagonist of Breath of the Wild, new clothes helped, but thankfully the modern world has a few more options for disguises. 
"When I suggested dying your hair, it’s not like I expected you to get a colour that bold, wait - where did you even get that from?"
"I bought it when you were looking at the other dyes, it’s such a fun colour not like anything I could get easily at home. You - you’re not bothered are you?"
With that last sentence wild seemingly decided to try his luck with you, looking up like a kicked puppy begging for reassurance that what he did was okay, that he won’t be in trouble for his actions. Begging you to comfort him, to do anything to get them to smile; all the while knowing they've got you wrapped around their finger. you're all his, no other heroes to steal your attention off of him, to steal away your smile, to steal your sweet voice from your lips, no he's got you all to himself…
as they believe they deserve.
You can't even see the countless red flags burying him in a crimson hue, too focused on helping him adjust to this alien world or if the thought ever crosses your mind that he's too happy about being trapped so far from home it's quickly dismissed.
they're a link, noble, courageous; chosen by Hylia herself. you've got to be imagining things. He couldn't can’t be like that.
it's hard not to cave at his face, so you simply end up ruffling his hair and plucking the box from eager hands.
"no don't worry I'm not, it's your hair so you get the final say on anything about it. just kinda surprised you chose this colour is all. ready then?"
Wild's mood instantly brightened at those few words, with a relieved manic, unhinged smile bright enough to blind anyone not used to him but keeping the same begging eyes through it.
"yeah! Of course I am, you're going to be doing it all for me right? right?"
"Well, you know how to use the shower, so you can wash the dye off yourself, no? But I’ll be helping you with the rest of it all."
He doesn’t even speak that time, opting to pout and turn away from you sulkily, like you’ve said the wrong thing, chosen the wrong option.
"Do you want me to even wash your hair for you after?"
"..."
"...please [name]?"
If you didn’t assume it was because you were the only thing they had familiar to them in this world, you could say that Wild has gotten far more whiny and needy towards you. Of course that can still be said, but there’s a sane reason behind it. 
With a playful sigh, you push Wild down onto a chair, gesturing for them to take off their shirt which they do after a moment of hesitation, their face coated by a blazingly hot blush. After tossing an old towel around their shoulders and tugging on the cheap plastic gloves you could finally start getting to work. Using the bottle of dye’s nozzle to pipe it through their roots making sure every area is coated before running the dye through with your fingers coaxing it through every inch of his hair, drowning the sun by submerging it in the deep blue of the sea. 
Wild for his part was relishing every moment in the bliss of your touch, leaning up into your touch like it’ll cure his every hurt, really it’s a miracle they’re still on the chair and haven’t fallen off with how far they’re leaning into you. Having to gently nudge him back to sitting upright, so that the dye’s even and so that he doesn’t slump to the floor. 
Before he gets the chance to really enjoy the feeling of your fingers in his hair, you're already backing off and peeling away the gloves to admire your work blatantly ignoring his pitiful whine towards your actions.
"That’s the dye in then, so you’ve just gotta wait for a while till it's ready to wash out, won't take long, only half an hour"
they don't even have the dignity to respond to that, sitting there with a sulky pout that goes unnoticed. it takes them a moment for him to shake off the fact that you couldn't just sit there like that for half an hour, before responding.
"So you’re definitely washing my hair for me then?"
"Pfft, yeah someone’s gotta make sure you don’t trash my bathroom with dye. I’ll rinse it off for you in the sink."
"Can you play with my hair longer this time..?"
He would’ve never had the courage to ask that in front of the chain, lest the arguing starts up again. Although now he’d be far more willing to risk that; due to the fact that the two of you’ve been living separately from the chain together for a couple of months now, it’d be far harder to split you apart to the others’ dismay.
The processing went far faster than either of you could’ve expected and soon enough it was time to wash his hair out and see if the dye took to it well, not that there was much of a chance it couldn’t given his natural colour. 
So after leading them to the bathroom and setting them on a chair shifted so they could lean over the sink, you took to work, gently tipping water through their hair to get out all the residue. When the heavy was washed out you switched to massaging his roots till the water ran clear, not a single dash of dye left in sight. Even then you weren’t quite finished deciding to go the extra step, with the conditioner in hand and him melting underneath you.
Shaking him back awake was a new experience though seeing as he’s usually one of the first to wake anyway, then if he were ever to nap it wouldn’t be due to you washing his hair or anyone washing their hair. 
"Hey, link all the dye's washed out now. You've just gotta dry your hair."
"Mh, alright then [name]. I’ll do it."
He’s still drowsier than you’d ever really seen him when you all were travelling through Hyrule but chucking a towel at his head seemed to snap him out of it. Ruffling his hair with the old towel till it was dry enough for him, in other words still dripping wet; he leaned against you with a pleased smile like you hung the very stars in the sky just for him."I love this, it just feels right, thank you so much for helping me like this [name]... And I can count on you doing it whenever I need a top up right?"
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so uh, I definitely reacted totally normal when I found out you could dye Link's hair in totk. but on the other hand look at Link with blue hair and tell me I'm wrong - that he doesn't look incredible
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hanafubukki · 3 days
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I'm back with another Lilia thought! This one isn't mafia au though, so you can wait with reading it so it won't spoil the immersion lol ( I'm so glad you liked it btw 😭)
This one is about you being Lilia's fae s/o. When he went to NRC with the boys he gave you a cell phone to stay in touch with him with. You use it to play games together and communicate (I think it'd be mostly texting as to simulate writing letters to your loved one who's away), but something he'll never tell anybody about are the more private messages you share. Because he's an old man, sensing lustful messages with Lilia is like writing prose. Taking turns to write and seeing the messages show up in real time...there's just something about this old man and language when it comes to intimate times. He'll save the conversations to re-read whenever he's needy. There's not much video/photo sharing (again, to fit with the whole writing letters thing), but it'd be fun I think if you discover the Twisted Wonderland version of Only Fans and jokingly tell Lilia that you wanna make an account and have him as your only subscriber. He actually loves the idea, of you being needy and the way he finds out is a ping notification that you've uploaded a new photo of yourself- for his eyes only. You'd want the account to be private since it's for personal use but I can see Lilia maybe being adventurous and being into teasing other men knowing they'll never have you. They can see a few clothed pictures but the number of people who can see it all never goes above 1.
-Fake Date Sebek Anon
[Talking about this fic]
Hello Fake Date Sebek Anonie 🌺🌷💞
That Lilia Mafia ask really just hit me suddenly and released all the core memories I had and I couldn’t not make it into a flower shop combination. Thank you Anonie, that AU lives in my brain rent free 💞💞
God can you imagine?? The text messages switches between Victorian flirting to modern flirting and sometimes the combination. Texting each other how much you missed the other so.
Telling him, how you miss his warmth and his touch. How your own imagination and hands can do so much. Even magical toys do not help. Gradually it shifts to this account you see humans use.
How innovative and advanced. Of course you bring it up to Lilia and he’s down. As long as it’s only him that can see it. He loves knowing no one can have you. You’re his.
He loves to show off your more casual pictures but he’s full of pride. No one else can see you, feel you, or touch you. No one else would know your taste.
Hm? What’s this? It’s as if you heard him. You sent him a new picture. He’s happy that fae’s have an abundance of magic. Silver, Sebek, and Malleus can look after each other for a few hours.
He’s going to teleport to you right now. The urge to feel and taste you too great. His hands itches to shred the clothes you have on and Lilia is not one to deny himself of his favorite treat. 💞🌺
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