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#Maybe because i wish for the same thing but only if my dog and two best friends can come too
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isekai is such a popular genre right now, and its taken a clear shift from 'i got isekai'd and now im a fantasy hero!' to 'i got isekai'd and now i get to live a quiet and happy life in the countryside/as a librarian/pharmacist' and obviously a lot of it is just......someone wrote this to kill time and draw boobies, but Parallel World Pharmacy was so good???? i cried so many times, and i love the shift in tone the genre has gained with stuff like that
#Maybe because i wish for the same thing but only if my dog and two best friends can come too#but that one and grace of the gods is just devastatingly gentle#its not a power fantasy its just im tired and hurt anf i want to thrive instead of survive because our society doesnt make me happy#but someone or soemthing takes mercy and kindness on them#but that one was especially profound with regards to his sister while maintaining the control of 'end this disease with a physical punch'#and we lack that kind of control we want that kind of control over literally anything in this life#also it was so pretty#not unique but still very soft visually speaking and funny but not taking away from the content#and again the characters are kind#dont get me wrong id totally like reincarnated as a slime too but thats mostly for the non gendered shapeshifting#also dragons and i wanna befriend the orcs and wolves#but id probably end up a goblin in that one....#anyway isekai when done well is so healing even when it has almost no plot#i love intense anime but god some of the gentle and beautiful ones are all i ever need#and i crave fantasy so much i adore magic and creatures and demons so much and the softness of some of these plots#but idk that one grabbed me by the throat and slammed me into the bricks#i didnt actually like ascendance of a bookworm all that much i kond of found parts of it annoying and i didnt love the artstyle#but i did absolutely love the fact she was disabled whether they called it disability illness or magic#she was for all intents and purposes disabled in the same way i am and it was heartening to see how much love they had for her#and how good her family was ngl i cried about her father and i wish mine came even a little close to that but thats a DIFFERENT topic#dont ask me about yakuzas guide to babysitting#i dont like the realizations that one gave me#but the more that come out in this genre the better it is and the more representation will drop into it hopefully in all directions#for gender and sexuality as well as disabilities#because this subgenre is so well equipped for disabilities especially because its soft and slow and so full of love#ranking of kings isn't isekai but i think it could open door for fantasy in general too because its a light genre even when its serious#its just ...pure and light and ready to welcome hardships without trauma#the characters are always kind and the setting is new and magic affords accommodations other genres dont#magical mobility aids that dont erase the disability will always be infinitely more interesting to me than heavy machinery that#that you have to strap into but that also means finding other accommodations too like having bojji read lips instead of getting an implant
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millienia · 2 months
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the c in NRC stands for cat
synopsis: in which heartslabyul deals with a cat loving no-magic having ramshackle prefect. (headcanons) gn!yuu
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RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
when he saw you clinging to the raccoon-cat-thing at the entrance ceremony, he did not know how to react.
normal people would panic. normal people would avoid a fire-breathing monster-cat-whatever that was spewing absolute nonsense.
apparently not you, though. although, one could say you already aren’t normal, considering the lack of magic. it wasn’t just not that much potential, you were basically in the negatives.
anyways, cats.
he got a peek under your ceremonial robes, and you were wearing..
a pajama shirt with a cat print on it. it looked horrendous.
riddle himself grew up with.. well, a cat. beastperson. so he probably would only have a surface level of appreciation for their greatness.
6/10 for cat lovers, i guess. he wouldn’t really mind, but he’d think it a tad strange. lower points because it took him a while to finally start letting grim into areas of festivity. 
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TREY CLOVER
this guy has siblings. like, siblings siblings. he’s used to being around people with strange interests (his brother tried to feed him a live insect once. not fun).
so, i’m sure he appreciates that your interests are on the much safer side of the wide, wide spectrum. 
except when the two of you hang out while he’s baking and suddenly ace and deuce are complaining about cat hair in their tarts.
please do not bring your cats in the kitchen, thank you very much.
he’d feed your cat(s)! very sweet guy.
8/10 for cat lovers! good ascend from riddles, except two points taken from him because one, the Cat™ isn’t allowed in the kitchen and two, he just seems like a dog person to me.
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CATER DIAMOND
please do not turn the great grim into a marketable plushie.
cater.
just kidding, he wouldn’t do that.
or would he?
i think he’d be a good cat co-parent! just like trey, i think he’d feed your cat when you can’t, he’d catsit while you’re in class.. etc, etc.
mostly because the posts he makes of your cat blow up, but also because he likes your cat!
the level fluctuates depending if this cat is grim or not. please do not ask me why.
8/10 for cat lovers! not bad, not bad at all! except, now there’s merch of grim- and while he’s proud of himself (this is only to be expected for the great grim! according to him), you just wish you got some of the revenue.
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ACE TRAPPOLA
no.
just, no.
i think he’d look at a cat litter and go, “what’s that?”. maybe he’d even try to sniff it.
gives off grew up with a dog vibes, i don’t know why.
he goes like “EUGH” when he finds cat hair in the food you made for him.
you felt kinda bad, but he ate it anyways while complaining. you were pretty conflicted.
he’d be.. i don’t know. unremarkable. not that good, though.
5/10 for the cat lovers. no comment. this gremlin, i swear.
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DEUCE SPADE
he LITERALLY isn’t any better than ace.
maybe he used to feed some of the stray cats on the way home from school when he was in elementary, but that’s probably the extent of his experience.
will also complain about cat hair. politely.
“uhm.. i think grims hair is in my soup?” kind of polite. except he’s grimacing and staring at grim like the cat just insulted his mother and all his ancestors.
he will also sniff your cat litter. and grim will laugh in the heartslabyul first year duo’s faces.
thanks, grim.
5/10 for the cat lovers.. again. he’s really just the same. he’d probably be nicer than ace, but the latter just has more experience with pets. probably. hopefully.
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special guest, IDIA SHROUD!
do i even need to say anything?
you two have matching cat print pajamas. ortho would cry tears of joy if he could.
you bring your cats to ignihyde and you all hang out. <3
you, idia, and your 23 cats. it really is the life.
he paid you in genesis crystals for permission to pat one of your cats on the head.
you two have a cat lovers gc where you just send cat pictures and talk about your cats, very fun.
10/10 for cat lovers!  first ever 10/10, and it’s from idia shroud? riddle is seething. great cat parent! though, he’s a bit attached. it’s okay, though, he buys your cats toys.
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pomegranateandblood · 3 months
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do you think you can do a wally clark fluff turned into smut maybe? i know you said you only do smut but i would love it if u could! thank u!
A/N: Heyyy. Welcome to my first fic for this blog. You wanted more fluff so I kept the smut a little bit on the down low for this, because usually I write full on smexy times. Thank you for requesting and Enjoy! ❤️🍍
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Friends
It was Homecoming week. You and the other ghosts were busy decorating the gym and painting posters to support Wally.
You were washing your hands and arms free off the dry blue paint as the brunette jock approached you. He seemed nervous.
„Everything okay ? You know it's the same routine as every year." You smiled looking at him through the mirror.
He had paint on his cheeks and arms, some even got into his ebony hair. „Look umm, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to be my date to the homecoming game?"
He was beet red, looking down at his hands. „-as friends of course."
You had to hold back a smile at his cute attempt not to make you flustered or embarrassed by his request.
Turning the faucet off, you dried your hands with paper towels before turning around. „I didn't guess you were the type to be ‚just friends' with a girl, football star."
You smirked playfully and he stared at you, mouth slightly open. „I- umm." he laughed nervously trying to find a right comeback.
„I guess I'm just not your type. Sadly." You clicked your tongue against your cheek before leaning close to his ear „Because I totally got a thing for tall, brunette jocks."
He sucked in a breath and before you could walk away held onto your arm. „It's a date. Wear a skirt."
You bit your lip as you nodded and walked away.
„Please" he added, his enthusiastic voice hollowing through the empty bathroom, making you giggle. Wally couldn't be not nice.
—-
As you waited for Wally in front of the stadium, you became more nervous. You really liked him and hoped that today you two could do something about the unresolved feelings.
Charly had helped you go through the wardrobe of the theatre club to find a skirt and matching outfit. Luckily they had just performed a more modern version of ‚Hairspray', resulting in you now wearing a pastel blue pleated skirt and a white tank top with a bow detail.
Good Thing that ghosts couldn't freeze bc else you definitely would've caught a cold in the chilly evening air.
„I hope I didn't make you wait too long, I couldn't find my jersey."
-
The date went well, Wally was enjoying the match.
After you two finished the fries and hot dogs he held your hand. Butterflies erupted in your stomach, flushing your cheeks.
„I got a gift for you." Wally said, taking out a box from the pocket of his letterman jacket.
It was a cardboard box, painted with the same paint you used for the posters.
„I found a necklace in the Lost and Found Box and the charm is wood. I wish I could give you something real and more special.“ Wally said as he opened the lid.
Inside was a silver necklace with a small pendant. The number 57. Wally‘s number.
You smiled. „It‘s perfect.“
Taking it out of the box, you fumbled with the clasp to put it on.
„I love it, Wally. Thank you" you said, touching the little pendant on your cleavage.
Your eyes drifted from his plush lips to his chocolate orbs, contemplating if you should kiss him. Before you could move, his hand touched your thigh at the seam of your skirt, burning your skin.
He licked his lips before leaning forward, giving you an innocent smooch. Noses to Nose he whispered. „I'm glad you don't want to be my friend."
The Hand on your thigh moved up to your hips and pulled you on his lap, your back pressed against the edge of the table. Being touched by him felt so good.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, capturing his lips again. He moaned into your mouth, which made you move your hips against his lap.
His hair was soft between your fingers and you slightly pulled at it. His hands snuck under your skirt, securing your hips on his crotch.
„Mmh is that why you wanted me to wear a skirt?" you teased, leaning your head back as he started kissing your neck.
The chuckle vibrated against the sensitive skin of your throat, right at your pulse point. You sighed.
„No, I just like the view of your legs. Even if it benefits me now." he groans.
You could feel the wetness of your panties as you tried to ease the friction between your thigh by pressing against him.
„Fuck, you want me to fuck you on this bench love?" He looks at you with dark eyes.
Wally must be uncomfortable in his tight football pants, so you pull at the strings securing it. „Yes please."
He helps you pull them off just enough to free his length, before he hungrily nips at your lips again.
His fingers pulled your panties to the side and you guided him inside of you.
Your other hand dug into the fabric of his football jersey and you moaned into his mouth. Placing his hands on your hips again, Wally thrusted up into you.
Your hips met his thrusts and you pulled away from his brusing kiss, trying to catch your breath.
„Wally" you moaned, clenching around him.
His lips explored your jawline down to your cleavage, biting and nipping. He would surely leave marks.
The edge of the table dug into your lower back with every thrust, but you didn't care. As long as the dark haired ghost kept on pleasuring you like this.
His Thumb found your clit, massaging with different paces, bringing you closer to the edge.
„Don't stop, please" you breathed, circling your hips more.
He kissed you again as he came, spilling inside you with a few sloppy thrusts.
You joined him, collapsing into his arms.
Wally held you, his hands caressing your back, finger playing with a few strands of your hair and you put your head against his chest, trying to spot his nonexistent heartbeat.
You realized neither of you talked about what this made you. A couple?
All you knew was that he made your heart flutter and your head dizzy. Hopefully this could last another lifetime. Or more.
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bunnys-kisses · 23 days
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bets made (and mistakes happened) - a restaurant au
john 'soap' mactavish
cw: restaurant!au, one night stand, smut/pwp, cocky!soap, bets/wagers, dirty talk enemies-to-lovers, (accidental) pregnancy, semi-long
bunny says: like this fic? leave a comment! really like this fic? suggest your own! reblogs are always welcomed!
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you could stand toe to toe with whoever got in your way. you REFUSED to be talked down to like a dog. you were a good sous chef, you didn't need the guy who washed the dishes to tell you how to do your job! you could've KILLED john.
and he probably would've let you. he wanted to see those blunt nails of yours dig into his throat. he'd take it as a challenge and give you the same energy. he'd probably grin as you like a madman before he could finally sink his teeth into you. he had been wanting to for years.
so in order to keep some semblance of peace in the kitchen, chef price sent you two out in the back for a smoke. you sat on the milk crate near the door and john pulled out his pack of cigarettes.
"i like yer fire." he said.
"i wish you'd go to hell." you replied.
he chuckled and shook his head, "yer too sweet. i'm surprised you didn't poison me when you had to show tonight's dishes to the rest of staff."
"i didn't expect you to count as staff. it was meant for the other cooks."
he put his hands on his hips, apron on and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth he tilted his head to the side and chuckled, "i'm staff, bonnie. more of the backbone than you are."
you stood up, and got close to him. you were facing each other and painfully close. you plucked the cigarette out of his mouth before you took a inhale of it. he looked at you in shock as you placed it back in his mouth. you turned away from him and said, "how about this, soap. you come to my place, we see who's the better cook."
he stood up a little taller and asked, "what do i get when i win?"
you narrowed his eyes at his words, you amped up the stakes. you replied simply, "i'll let you sleep with me."
the cigarette almost fell out of his mouth from the shock. he soon took it out his mouth and exhaled, "nah, nah. really, what is it?" there was a smile on his face. he leaned in a little bit to you.
"i told you... you, me, sex. do i need to spell it out for you?"
he laughed, "oh yeah. that's a good prize, that sweet cunt." he closed the gap between you two and took your chin in his hand, he held his cigarette in the other, "deal. maybe i can finally put ya in yer place. talkin' big game for such a little girl." he shook his head. he pulled away to have another drag of his cigarette.
-
the first thing you noticed at the end of the week. john 'soap' mactavish didn't taste like an ashtray when he kissed you. currently it was friday night, the only night you two had off, and john had just won your little bet.
he had you up on the kitchen table with his hand spread out on your thigh, pushing up your dress. his lips were on yours and you tried your best to NOT melt into the kiss.
when he pulled away he pressed his forehead to you and said, "how was that?"
"it's a bet, it shouldn't matter how i feel." you replied as you kept your arms around him. his laugh pulled something in you when you were so close to him.
you expected him to make some pasta with packaged noodles and a jar of sauce. you had seen what lunches he brought. but instead in your tiny apartment, he made you a scotch pie with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth the entire time. even with the ash, it was still the best thing you had ever tasted.
he knew he won because you couldn't hide the expression on your face fast enough after the first bite. when he laughed,you hit him then went in for seconds. who would've thought the annoying dishwasher could cook this.
"how?" you asked.
he put a finger over his lips, "family secrets. only shared through marriage, doll."
after the meal, then he took his dessert. his winnings from your bet. and in all fairness, if/when he was going to fuck you, he'd rather he did with after you had a good meal. it was going to be quite the energy waster.
you broke the kiss and looked at him, those big blue eyes stared back at you. you held his face for a moment to stop him from leaning in again. you said, "i'm not fucking on a table i got from goodwill."
he chuckled, "of course, my majesty. would you like for me to fluff the pillows first." then made a noise when you squeezed his face.
"i'm saying because the fucking thing will break." then let go of him. he backed up enough for you to get off the furniture and head towards the bedroom.
he trailed behind you, his cock stood at full attention in his jeans as he get his first glimpse of your bedroom. while he noticed that there wasn't much life to the decor of the walls. he did notice that your bed was unmade and looked very comfy.
but what drew his attention was the sight of you undressing. he watched you zip down the button of the dress. you stepped out of it then quickly got your underwear off. he was barely out of his socks by the time you were naked. your curves glowed under the light of the city outside.
you sighed and approached him, "i guess i have to do everything, huh?"
he was brought back to reality and stepped back, "you don't have to do shit, love. i just need you to lie there and look pretty. if you really wanted to put on a show, make the girls bounce a little." he chuckled as he pulled his shirt over his head. he showed off his lean body and caught you staring a moment before he went to his jeans.
soon both of you were naked, and you led him onto your bed. you kicked the covers further down the mattress as you laid in bed with the other man. you kissed once more trying hard not to fall for him with each linger of his fingertips across your back.
he held you like a protective force, even if his words were often biting. he wanted you. in a carnal, lustful kind of way. the kind that sent shivers down your spine.
his hands roamed your backside, his cock twitched against your thigh as you continued to make out with him. finally that cocky mouth of his was quiet.
you pulled away soon after and placed both hands on his chest. he looked up at your curiously and you gazed down at him. those blue eyes were like dark like rocky seas as you rubbed your knee up against his cock. he hissed through his teeth.
"careful, doll." he said quietly.
you held his face once more and gave him one last kiss before you moved away and got into his lap. your ass rubbed against his cock. the sensation made him exhale deeply to try and hold back a moan.
he placed his tattooed hands on your hips. you always did find his tattoos quite appealing. you did have a dream once where he was shoving those digits inside of your pussy. at the time it made you want to put bleach in your eyes. but now... you were second guessing it.
"like this?" you asked.
"oh yeah. i love a good girl on top." he purred as the two of you began to move your bodies against one another. his eyes closed for a moment as he pressed his head into your pillow. he was drowning in the scent of the strawberry shampoo you used often. he could get whiffs of it at work when you walked by, but to be smothered in it made his cock hard.
you placed your hands on his chest and leaned forward so his cock was pushed inside of you at an angle. you panted which was accompanied by his own heavy breathing.
"feel real good. like a glove." he said, heavy on the accent, "like two pieces the same puzzle. you and i, doll, are meant to be."
"one night." you affirmed.
he chuckled as he dug his fingers further into your hips. he watched you take all of his cock and replied, "that's what they all day." before he started to meet your pace more aggressively.
the bed creaked from your movements. the heavy thrusting of sex in the cramped room of your one bedroom apartment. you funded this life through cooking and you got out cooked by a dishwasher.
you should hang the apron up already!
the thought made john smirked as he felt his cock deep inside of you. he wondered for a moment if you could still run a kitchen while caring for his brats. but that thought was pushed away from the intense rush of pleasure through his body. made his head feel full as he got closer to orgasm.
"shit, soap. ah." you moaned.
he gave your ass a slap and chuckled, the sweat dripped down his back, "you can't get enough of me. you just love it so much. you love me."
you groaned, "in your dreams." the sex was amazing. you could feel the sweat on your brow as you rutted against him. your nails dug into his pecks as you moved.
he hissed through his teeth and drove his cock deeper into you. he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. nothing like a feisty chef to get his blood pumping! with a spark on inspiration, he took you by the hips and rolled you onto your stomach.
he lifted your hips up with ease and pounded away at your cunt with vigor. the angle took the air out of your lungs, you could feel his ramming against sensitive areas. your legs were practically in the air!
the angle was amazing for both of you and soon you were gripping onto the mattress under your head.
"who would've thought scotch pie would've let me fuck ya." he laughed as he scratched at your hips due to the force he was holding you.
"shut up!" you whined as your back arched. with a few more stokes of his cock, you both came. your mind went blank. you came so hard that you honestly forgot that he wasn't wearing a condom and had dumped a bunch of his scottish seed into your aching cunt.
this wouldn't be a problem later, right?
-
a month later you're sitting on top of the toliet with a pregnancy test in hand. your hand over your mouth as you watched the test read positive.
for a second you tried to rationalize that it COULDN'T have been john who got you pregnant. not that blue-eyed, mohawk having, smug dishwasher! but you sure as hell weren't pregnant before your night together.
you pulled your hand away from your face and putt he test down on the counter. you cupped your middle and sighed. you had no choice but to tell john about it. he was going to find out eventually.
you sent him a text message, 'soap. need to talk. urgent." then put the phone down. instantly you were on the phone with him, when you heard his voice you broke down. the normally cocky john sounded sincere as he asked what was wrong. you composed yourself for a moment and wiped your eyes and said, "you are your stupid scottish cock got me pregnant."
there was silence on the other end for a moment. he then said, "anythin' ya need, doll. it's yours."
you swallowed and replied, "you and some more scotch pie." you felt your heart do a somersault.
"ay." he said, "already got the scottish in ya."
xoxo, bunny (might do a sequel, let me know!)
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virtualreader · 9 months
Text
broken hearts and healing souls – part 2
deanwinchesterxfem!reader
summary: a few days after the unexpected events that took place on the night of your biggest argument, Dean has a nightmare. And both of you are forced to face the feelings you had pushed aside.
word count: 2,1k.
warnings: nightmares, mentions of anger, kiss, regretful Dean.
part 1
a/n: you've been asking quite a lot for a second part for this fic, so here it is. I'm not entirely satisfied with the ending, but I still hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. also, as the part 1 was based on a song, i opted to base part 2 in another one — I’ll be good - James Young.
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Another hunt, another city, and yet another sleazy motel room. But you and Dean still hadn't exchanged more than the essentially necessary words.
Ever since that night when you kissed, Dean had been ignoring you with perfectly applied silent treatment, as if you had turned into a ghost. Not that it was totally bad, a part of you preferred not facing the real issue.
Bringing the matter up would be like tearing off a scar, like reopening a wound that had never even closed. Blood would ooze from the raw, exposed skin, once again, and the pain would return, and it would hurt the same way it did when hearing those words escape his mouth: ‘this was a mistake’.
However, another part of you, though small yet present, longed for things to return to normal. To joke around with Dean again, like the time when he had made a hilarious impersonation of the local parish priest, and you had laughed until your stomach hurt. To get ingenuously mad with him for teasing you just because you were younger than he was. Damn, if you could go back in time you would have simply avoided that first argument altogether.
You stared at the ceiling, moisture stains here and there and the paint that once covered it, flaking off, revealing the rough surface underneath. Perhaps it had once been a grand and luxurious space, filled with beautiful furnishings and ornate decorations. But now, it was a shadow of its former self, a tired and worn-out shell of a room.
You should have known better. Hell, you did know better. You just didn't want to acknowledge the fact that he had no romantic feelings towards you and never could. You had become a part of the Winchesters' family a long time ago and grew up with them. Chances were Dean considered you his little sister. How could he be romantically involved with you?
I thought I saw the devil this morning Looking in the mirror, drop of rum on my tongue With the warning to help me see myself clearer
The quietness of the room was only interrupted by the occasional sound of a distant car passing by outside and the desultory barking of a dog nearby. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.
“What’s gotten into you guys?” had asked Sam the morning after the event, after noticing Dean’s unusual and dismissive behavior.
“None of your business, Sammy.” Dean had replied, not meeting your eyes.
You had tried to talk to Dean several times, but he would always find an excuse to leave the room or change the subject. It was like he was avoiding you, and it hurt more than you cared to admit.
Dean had always been like an older brother to you. You shared so many memories together, from hunting supernatural creatures to simply hanging out and joking around. But maybe, deep down, you wished for something more than just a sibling bond.
Trying to ignore the feeling of emptiness in your chest was hard if not impossible. It was like a piece of you was missing, and you couldn't find a way to fill the void. Knowing this would be the end result, you would never have kissed him.
You may have felt fortunate to find a motel with two available rooms, but your luck ran out when Sam claimed the one with a single bed for himself. So you were forced to share a room with Dean.
I never meant to start a fire I never meant to make you bleed I'll be a better man today
You let out a sigh, feeling frustrated and lonely. You didn't want things to be like this between you and Dean, but you didn't know how to fix it. You knew that you needed to talk to him, to tell him how you felt and try to work things out. But you were scared of what might happen if you did.
You heard a muffled sound coming from the other side of the room. You turned your head to see Dean tossing and turning in his sleep, his face contorted in pain. It was obvious that he was having a nightmare.
With a hand, you tossed the bedsheets along with the flowery comforter away, uncovering your body. You rolled your legs off of the bed and slowly yet surely moved to a sitting position. You tilted your head slightly and tried to take a glimpse of what was going on in the adjoining bed, but failed pathetically due to the scarce lightning.
Feeling concerned, you reached out blindly for the light switch. After a moment of fumbling, you found it and turned it on. The wall-mounted lamp flickered to life, casting a warm, dim light throughout the room. Dean's grimacing expression was now clearly visible, and you hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do next.
“No! No, no!” he growled low, his teeth gritted. “No! Y/n!”
That you were not foreseeing.
You were taken aback by his outburst, not expecting it at all. What could he be dreaming about that would elicit such a strong reaction?
I'll be good, I'll be good And I'll love the world, like I should Yeah, I'll be good, I'll be good For all of the times that I never could
Dean was sweating profusely. His breathing was shallow and ragged, and he was muttering incoherently. Waking him up seemed like an idea. Sure, you were mulish, but you were not some heartless monster.
You reached out and gently shook Dean's shoulder, trying to wake him up from his nightmare.
"Dean," you whispered, hoping that your voice would be enough to pull him out of his dreams. “Dean, wake up.”
He did not respond, and just as you were about to try again, he hastily sat up, his eyes wide, and his breathing heavy.
"Y/n?" he asked, his voice shaking. "Is that you?"
"Yeah, it's me," you replied, relieved to see him awake and alert. "Are you okay? You were having a nightmare."
Dean ran a hand through his hair, looking around the room as if he was trying to orient himself.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said finally, his voice still shaking a little. "It was just a bad dream."
Silence took over the place. You stared at Dean, and Dean stared at you, both waiting for the other to speak first. The tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife, and the eerie environment did nothing but add to it.
"Wanna talk about it?" you asked, sensing that there was more to his nightmare than he was letting on.
Dean hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering over to you before returning to the floor. You could sense that he was struggling to find the right words to say, and as the silence stretched on, you began to feel a growing sense of unease.
My past has tasted bitter for years now So I wield an iron fist Grace is just weakness Or so I've been told I've been cold, I've been merciless
"It was about you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, and you felt your heart skip a beat.
The confession caught you off guard. You were surprised to hear such a heartfelt admission from him.
“Me?” You could feel your pulse quickening as you waited for him to continue.
"Yeah. I dreamed that the demon got to you," Dean continued, his voice still trembling. "That I couldn't protect you. And then...then you were gone."
You felt a lump form in your throat at Dean's words, and you instinctively reached out to place a hand on his arm. Yet, you kept a reasonable distance between the two of you, unsure of how this could alter your current situation. Unsure of whether it could bridge the seemingly unfathomable gap that separated your wounded souls.
"Dean, I'm right here," you said softly. "I'm not going anywhere."
But the blood on my hands scares me to death Maybe I'm waking up today
The mattress dipped while you sat facing Dean.
"I know that," Dean replied, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since he woke up. "But...I don't know. It's like I can't shake this feeling that something's going to happen to you."
You could see the fear and uncertainty etched into Dean's features, and you knew that he was struggling with his emotions. It was hard for him to admit that he was scared, especially when it came to you.
But you also knew that you couldn't keep ignoring the elephant in the room. You needed to talk to Dean about what had happened between you, or you would never be able to move forward.
"Dean," you said, your voice steady but firm.
He looked away, his jaw tight and his hands clenched into fists.
"I messed up,” he uttered, deciding to address the matter before you had a chance to gather your thoughts. “I didn’t want us to end up like this.”
"I know," you said softly, your heart aching at the sound of his voice. "But we can't keep avoiding each other like this. We need to talk.”
Dean let out a sigh and his shoulders slumped, his entire demeanor reflecting the weight of the situation. Dean had always been good at avoiding his feelings, pushing them aside in favor of the mission. But this time, he couldn't do that. You both knew that it was time to stop tip-toeing around the issue and get to the heart of the matter.
"I was scared," he admitted. "Scared of losing you. Hell, I still am. That’s why I didn’t want you to go on hunts anymore."
Dean's voice was low and steady, but there was an underlying intensity to it that betrayed the depth of his emotions. He was laying it all on the line, baring his soul in a way that he had never done before.
I'll be good, I'll be good And I'll love the world, like I should (oh-oh-oh) I'll be good, I'll be good (I'll be good, I'll be good)
Afraid he would retract on opening up to you, you did not dare say anything, instead you fixated your gaze on his glossy, green eyes, encouraging him to continue. He took your hand in his, and his eyes softened.
“I don't think about you as a kid. It's just that…when you love something, you protect it.”
Dean's words hung in the air, the weight of them almost palpable. He looked at you, waiting for a response, his heart pounding in his chest.
The walls around Dean's heart, which had once been so solid and towering, had finally come crumbling down, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. It was clear that there was no going back from this point, as Dean had decided to tear down his emotional barriers and reveal his true self. The honesty and openness that he was displaying left you feeling speechless, as if you were witnessing something truly special and rare.
“Please, y/n. Say something,” he said with his voice at the verge of breaking, when you did not say anything.
“You love me?”
“I can’t pretend anymore. You are everything, everything.” Dean finally confessed, his grip on your hand tightening.
For all of the light that I shut out For all of the innocent things that I doubt For all of the bruises I've caused in the tears For all of the things that I've done All these years, no, yeah For all the sparks that I stomped out For all of the perfect things that I doubt
You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. But this time, they weren't tears of sadness; they were tears of joy. You had wanted to hear those words for so long – even if it was not a straightfoward 'I love you' –, but you had never dared to hope that they would be true.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," Dean uttered. "The idea of losing you, of ruining what we had, terrified me. You were always like a sister to us, and when I first felt something more for you, I didn't want to admit it. But I can't keep pretending that I don't feel this way.”
I'll be good, I'll be good And I'll love the world, like I should Yeah, I'll be good, I'll be good For all of the times I never could
“Dean, I-I…” you tried to say, yet, the words got caught in your throat, the upheaval of the moment hindering your ability to vocalise something coherent.
Delicately, he reached out and carefully tucked a strand of your hair that had come loose behind your ear. His fingers lightly brushed against your skin as he cupped your cheek in his hand, his thumb tracing circles on your skin.
Dean looked at you for a long moment, his eyes softening as he took in your presence. You could sense the shift in his demeanor as the distress that had been etched in his features not five minutes before, had now completely vanished. His eyes seemed to sparkle with a new sense of calmness and peace.
Warmth blossomed in your chest, sparks igniting as Dean leaned in close, lips brushing together, tentatively, for the first time that night, though not the last.
His fingers danced through your hair, caressing the back of your head with the sweetest touch. His lips parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slide inside his mouth, and a hint of cinnamon and vodka mingled together, creating a unique and intoxicating combination that lingered on your taste buds.
Oh, oh-oh Oh, oh Oh, oh-oh For all of the times I never could
“I love you too, Dean.” you whispered in his ear, momentarily pulling away.
And, as you held each other, melting into the kiss, you both knew there was no going back to the way things were before.
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@losa12308 – as you requested, I'm tagging you in part 2 (I'm actually thinking of making a taglist)
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pinkthrone445 · 2 months
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Hello, I hope you’re good!
I have a Melissa x reader prompt. I listened to Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift I thought it would be a perfect story. Can you make it? But in a way that Mel and the reader are not together yet in the beginning but it has a happy ending with them being together? Thank you ❤️
-We need each other in all lives-
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Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader
Gender:soft, fluff, love
Warnings:cursing
Summary:Mel was always there to take care of you because you were good friends.
Hi sweetheart! That was a beautiful song! I didn't end it exactly how you want it, but maybe I'll write a next part where they go to prom or something. I hope you like it! I love request with songs! ❤️
Changes, there were times that were good things and others that complicated your existence. Some changes pushed you forward and others made you stagnate in place.
Many years you begged and listened as others begged wishing that Ava would be a better director, but you never thought that the moment when that would happen, you would wish you could go back in time.
After the break, when you returned to work, Ava had made a 180° turn, a turn so radical that it surprised everyone. You had high hopes for this new Ava, until it started banning everything you wanted or enjoyed doing, including breaks.
With so few breaks and teaching two classes at once, you were on the verge of a physical or mental breakdown or both, something that didn't go unnoticed by Melissa.
The redhead and Barbara had almost adopted you since you had started working at Abbott, your sarcastic joke caught Melissa's attention and at the same time your maturity in certain things, caught Barbara's attention and they immediately liked you. The years that followed only strengthened the friendship, although you had to admit that you were closer to the redhead than to Barbara.
There was nothing you could hide from Melissa, she could tell when you lied or hid something, she even noticed how you felt before you told her. She was very aware of how these weeks with more demands had affected you, for that same reason, she was paying much more attention to you than before, even controlling that you ate and drank water.
Since you could no longer take advantage of your free hours to check the kid's work, you started doing it while eating so you wouldn't have to do so much at home.
-"Do you want to go out tonight to eat and drink something?" - Mel offered while you ate with her and Barbara. The red-haired woman slightly pushed your glasses that were on the table towards you so that you would realize that you should be wearing them so that your eyes wouldn't burn afterwards, you smiled slightly at her putting them on and kept correcting the sheets
-"I can't, I have a date with Geral for our anniversary" - The older one commented, and Mel looked at you, giving you a chance to answer
-"I have too much to do... Besides I'm to tired for going out Mel-Mel" - You commented, still looking at the sheets of paper and moving your red pen over them
-"So it's decided, tonight you're coming to my house and I'll make something to eat for you. And don't say no, you need to rest and distract yourself a bit, you're not even eating right now so you can correct those papers" - she commented in an authoritative tone and you nodded in agreement with no other choice.
When night came, you drove to your friend's house with her favorite wine in hand. When you opened the door, a savory aroma surrounded you and the redhead laughed when she saw the joy in your eyes when she noticed how that gave you happiness.
Upon entering the house you sat in your usual place on the counter while she finished cooking, soft music played in the background that was sometimes interrupted by the noise of the pans or the knife chipping something on the board. Mel told you about a new bar she wanted to visit while you showed her pictures of a dog you were thinking of adopting, every now and then silence fell on you but it wasn't awkward, before you resumed the conversation with another topic.
When the food was ready, the two of you went to the living room to watch a movie while enjoying your friend's tasty creation, which also was your favorite food.
Even if you were worried that you weren't correcting the exams, it was nice to take a moment to rest, being by her side always calmed you down not matter what was happening.
When the dishes emptied, you paused the film to wash them quickly; whenever Mel cooked you washed the dishes and vice versa, then grabbed chocolate from the shelf where you knew she kept them and went back to the couch to watch the rest of the movie.
When you had settled down next to her, Mel didn't press play on the movie and that made you curious, so you looked at her with a raised eyebrow
-"Play..."-You whispered and she continued to stare at you
-"What are you thinking? I can see the guilt in your face, you're thinking so loud that subtitles are about to come out of your ears" - Mel asked and you laughed
-"I was just thinking about school..."-You answered and she rolled her eyes
-"Today was supposed to be a night to distract you and relax... Don't tell me that the only way you're going to relax is by doing that thing that we did..." - she whispered with a mischievous smile and you shook your head blushing
-"That only happened once and that was because I was so stressed and tired that I couldn't sleep" - You muttered embarrassedly and Mel opened her arms smiling. A few years ago, you had to take an exam for your teacher application while you were teaching at Abbott, the night before you were due to take the exam, Mel had come to your house to cook something to eat and help you study. When it got late, you begged her to stay with you because you were nervous and scared. She when to bed with you but you couldn't fall asleep, so the redhead hugged you to her chest until you relaxed and fell asleep. That's when you discovered that having her that close calmed you down in an incredible way without having to take any pills or anything.
-"But it worked, so let's do it again."-The redhead commented and you sat on her lap blushing, you carefully hugged her waist and rested your head on her chest closing your eyes momentary as she scratched your hair-"Now I can feel how you stopped thinking, I'll press play on the movie" - The redhead hit play while still stroking your hair and you watch it still resting on her chest.
A few seconds later, your cell phones rang at the same time and that could only mean one thing, a message from school. The redhead grabbed her cell phone while still  stroking your hair and laughed as she read it, making her chest vibrate against your cheek.
-"You and I are in charge of being chaperones at the graduation party Ava wants to throw for the kids" - she muttered and put her cell phone down again
-"Good...I've never had a graduation party or been to one..."- You murmured against her chest with your eyes almost completely closed because of how relaxed you were.
-"Then I'll come pick you up with a corsage for you since you Wil ne my date to prom"-she commented jocking
-"I would love that" - You responded with your eyes finally closed, her perfume invading your senses, her warmth hugging your body, her gentle heartbeat synchronized with yours, the vibration of her voice against your ear every time she spoke, it was enough to block your overthinking brain and relax you completely-"Mel..."-You whispered sleepily and she urged you to follow with a soft hum-"do you think we are friends in another lifes too?"-Mel laughed at your question, whenever you were falling asleep, you would start asking weird and unexpected questions
-"I'm sure of it hon... In every life there is a Melissa who is dedicated to taking care and be next to one (Y/N), there can be no Melissa without you to accompany her, we need each other in all lives..."-she whispered kissing your forehead and you smiled with your eyes closed, almost asleep on the redhead's chest
-" I love you Mel-Mel"-You whispered babbling and the redhead's heart jumped and she doubted if you could hear it or not, how is it that your "I love you" had more effect on her than when her previous partners told her they love her, if you were just friends?... Why was she excited to think about being your date at prom when you were just friends?... Maybe what she was feeling from a few months now was just because she didn't had a boyfriend now... Or maybe you just were really good friends... Yeah... Friends... Why it hurt her thinking about you two just as friends?... Fuck, she was fucked...
-"I love you more hon, more than you know" - she whispered hugging you tight with a million questions in her head, sadly, you were already asleep to listen to her words and the meaning behind it.
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blingblong55 · 2 months
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Funny Feeling -141
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Photo credit: @ave661 (left)
A/N: König will be done in the next post, I'm sorry I couldn't add him to this one..
Not a request but my own need for this:
141&Konig find out (same time as you do) that you have PCOS. You of course are sad because of the fertility issues and all the problems this condition brings, but not to worry, your partner is here to help and uplift you.  ---- F!Reader, reader with pcos, fluff, angst, comfort, established!realtionship, tw: self worth issues ----
A/N: I needed comfort and well I figured you might too so.. here's this
"All the signs point to yes, the way you have given me a description and the tests we ran," the doctor breaks the news. "This can't be right? Maybe there was a mistake?" Your hand holding onto your husband's hand. "It's PCOS, ma'am." You shook your head. You read every article, and watched every video, and even though you said your signs must be for something else, here you are. 
"What does this mean for her?" your husband asks, knowing you are just trying to find yourself in the void you've been pushed to. "Well it can mean a lot of things, for example..." the doctor's voice fades. Your eyes are on that desk, the lighting of the room only making this news worse. Tears form in your eyes. What does this mean? No family, no picket fence, and Sunday walk with your kids. 
You wanted to cry and argue against the results but it's all there in that paper. Your heart breaks and you grip his hand again. 
The ride home was silent, he knew it was best this way. You thought of it all, the giggles, the drawings on the wall, the stained clothes, and the staying up late that you'll never get to do. 
"We're home," he mentions softly, his hand on yours again as you are lost in thought. All you can do is get out of the car and walk inside. You know it's wrong to push him away but it's the only thing that feels right. Your emotions are all over the place. You feel more disgusted with yourself. The hair that's growing on the chin and chest, the stupid periods you've missed, the weight gain, the way you look around and see everyone building your families and you, sitting in a bathroom, undressed as you look at the weight and wished you were 'better'. 
John Price: 
The first thing he does is leave you alone. He doesn't know how it feels, however, he knows that if he were in your place, he'd too need some time alone. He knows one thing, if the places were changed, you'd be doing something to make him cheer up, anything. "My love, I'm going out for a few minutes, you need me, I'm a phone call away." he kisses your forehead but when you refuse to let him kiss your soft skin, he sighs and walks away. 
They say, to be loved is to be known and he knows you all too well. So, he goes to every store in town, looks for that one book you've been looking for, and then, there it is, the flowers, the takeout and the one blanket you eyed for a little too long when shopping with him. 
Meanwhile, in the small bathroom, you lie down. Eyes on the ceiling as you feel yourself cry once more. Stupid, stupid, stupid body of mine. Why must this be your place? Why can't you give him the one chance at happiness? One kid at least, two at best and a stupid family dog that could be running around during family walks. 
"I hate you-"
"Love? Hey, open up, I'm home," he says as he knocks on the door of the bathroom. "Go away-"
"Not happening, open up my sweetheart, let me show you everything will be alright," his voice was so soft and gentle. 
Once he finally has you in his arms, guiding you to the cosy living room, he covers your eyes and smiles. "We'll talk about this all later but for now, let me release some stress."
"But-"
"Love, no. I'm not letting you think that just because of this condition you are less than any other woman out there. You are so much more than just someone who can give me children. You are this incredibly funny, smart and seriously kind person. You're my girl, nothing changes that, kids or not. Now, let's eat, watch some film I found and then, we'll stay up and talk about today." 
Simon Riley: 
You've been in the bedroom, looking at the pictures your siblings have sent you of your nieces and/or nephews. Their little giggles, the silly little things they do when they get annoyed when not solving a small puzzle. Tears form in your eyes. "Lovie, I got the bath- Lovie?" His voice was softer than ever. He recognizes that frown and the only thing he can do is walk to you, wrap his arms around you and give you a tight hug. His lips meet your forehead. "I feel broken like there is something very wrong with me," you confess as small tears fall. "You're not broken, lovie," he whispers. 
"Well, it feels like I am, everything is wrong with me, I feel disgusted with myself."
He shakes his head, "If there is one thing I've learned is that even if you feel like you are completely worthless, it's a temporary thing. At the end of the day, you are much more than being the one I have a family with. So what if we can't have sleepless nights? You're not here to just be a mother. And, if we want kids, I'm sure we'll adopt or maybe we can search for other stuff- the point here is, you are much more than serving as some womb for our kids." 
He kisses picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Now, let me take care of you, okay? You do it for me when I come home and it's time you get treated the same." 
One thing with him is that he shows you his true love, admiration and excitement with acts of service. He won't directly tell you all his emotions but his actions do tell you all you need to know. As you lay back on the tub, he grabs your hand and kisses it. "Everything will be alright, I promise you that much," he smiles and slowly scrubs your body, the feeling of the bubbles and warm water soothe you. 
Kyle Garrick: 
It's bizarre. The rain pitter-pattered against the windowpane as you sat curled up on the sofa, your thoughts a whirlwind of worry and frustration. Today had been one of those days where everything seemed to spiral out of control. To be diagnosed with this condition had hit you out of a tidal wave, and left you feeling overwhelmed and uncertain about the future. Why must you be this way?
Kyle, your ever-supportive husband, noticed the heaviness in your demeanour the moment he stepped through the door. Droplets of rain clung to his jacket as he approached you, concern etched on his features. "Y/N, love, are you alright?" he asked softly, kneeling beside you. He knows you, that weak smile falters almost immediately. "It's a lot to take in," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. Kyle wraps his arms around you, pulling you close in a comforting embrace. "I know, darling. But you're not alone in this. We'll figure it out together, okay?" he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 
You nod, feeling the weight of his words anchor to the present moment. You lean into his warmth, finding solace in the familiar scent of his cologne mingled with the rain outside. 
For the rest of the evening, Kyle made it his mission to care for you in every way he could. He brewed your favourite herbal tea and fetched the cosy blanket to wrap you in it. He listened attentively as you, for so long, poured out your fears and frustrations. In between doubt, he offered words of reassurance. 
As the evening goes on, he notices how the weight of your diagnosis left you with a burden. He can see the sadness etched into your features, the worry lines creasing your forehead as you sit and stare into the distance. "Love, what's on your mind?" he asks softly, reaching out to gently squeeze your hand. 
You let out a heavy sigh, and your shoulders slump as you face him, "I just can't shake this feeling off, babe," you admit to him once more, that soft voice of yours tinged with sadness. "It's a lie no matter what I do, this stupid condition will always be a part of me." Tears well in your eyes. 
His heart aches at the sound of defeat in your voice, but he refuses to let your despair consume not just you but him as well. With a tender smile, he cups your cheek, brushing away the stray tear with his thumb. How can you tell someone you want to listen to and understand them? How can you show love for them when they can't even accept love for something they can't control?  
"Y/N, listen to me," he says firmly, his gaze unwavering. "This condition doesn't define you. It's just one part of who you are, love. And it certainly isn't your fault." 
You blink back tears, your throat tightening with emotion. "But it feels like...like I'm broken," your voice barely above a whisper. He shook his head, his expression softening with understanding. "You aren't broken, Y/N. Not even in the slightest," he insists, his voice laced with conviction. "You are this strong, beautiful and capable of so much more than you realise. And I will be here every step of the way, holding your hand through it all."
With that, Gaz pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if to shield you from pain. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, pouring all his love and reassurance into the simple gesture. At that moment, surrounded by his unwavering love and support, you felt a flicker of hope ignite in you. 
In the days that followed, he was your constant support and encouragement. He researched PCOS tirelessly, eager to understand your condition better and help you navigate the complexities. He accompanies you to doctor's appointments, holding your hand through every moment. He also made small challenges to not just your lifestyle but his. New healthier habits, medication, self-help books and moments of joy filled your life with him. 
John "Soap" MacTavish:
The soft glow of the bedside lamp, once you reach the bedroom, casts a warm ambience in the room as you sit on the edge of the bed, your mind clouded with worry and uncertainty. You stare blankly at the floor, thoughts consumed by this condition. It felt as though the world had turned upside down in an instant, leaving you lost and vulnerable. 
Johnny, your steadfast husband, watched you with concern from his place beside you. He could see the turmoil written in your eyes. Without a word, he reached out and gently took your hand in his, offering a silent anchor in this storm. 
You squeeze his hand tightly, seeking solace in the warmth of his touch. "What am I now, Johnny?" you confess. "It's like... everything I thought I knew about myself has been thrown into question."
Johnny's heart ached, he can't let you suffer alone, not like this. "You don't have to deal with this alone, bonnie," he kisses the top of your hand. "We're in this together, remember?"
You nod, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I know, but... it's just so hard," your voice trembles with emotion. It's not love if they leave during something so hard, they say. It's unconditional love when they stay, I say. 
"I know it's hard, bonnie. But I also know how strong you are," he gives you a small smile. "You are much more than this diagnosis." It's beautiful, how in the middle of this heartache, he still gives you this funny yet warm feeling. "And I will be here every step of the way, supporting you, comforting you, and loving you with all that I am," he promises.  -----
A/N: If you have this, I'm always here, it's okay to sometimes rely on others. This isn't something to be ashamed about<3
Tags:
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kneelingshadowsalome · 5 months
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It’s been on my mind for a while: your double trouble AU, does each konig know that the other is his younger/older version of himself? Or are they two separate different people to each other? A metaphysical question lol and I can’t get it out of my head
Ahaha it’s a good question!
Yes they are very aware of each other being a different version of the same person ^^ I don’t know how it came to be that there are 2 Königs terrorizing the world, perhaps it was an unofficial government experiment with cloning or some distortion in the space-time continuum like @gremlingottoosilly suggested, I don’t care if there were aliens involved – they’re here and in love with the same woman!
But…
What I’m curious about is how did reader and Colonel!König meet the younger version (since they’re both happily married when young recruit comes around)? Maybe reader expressed her wishes to spice things up with some FMM action one day. And because Colonel!König is lenient and gentle with her and only her – ok let��s face it, he can’t deny anything from her – he kisses her forehead gently, pulls her into his lap, asks, why don’t they go out tonight and choose a victim for her then? :)
Cue to a few hours in at the local bar, Colonel is beginning to think this was a bad idea. His wife is sitting on his lap, trying to get a view of the dance floor filled with people. Mostly drunk, desperate men far younger than him; Colonel could roll his eyes – does she really want some hormone-driven asshole to give her a sloppy, low effort ride? These boys barely have hair growing on their balls yet…
Colonel just wants to go home and bully his sweet wife for hours with some expert tonguework and is just about to offer to take her home when she spots a young man. Immediately shooting up with curiosity, her eyes are shining when she finally sees something that she really likes.
“I want that one,” she says like she’s gotten used to getting anything she wants, even if it’s a person ‐ and since we’re talking about young, pussy-deprived men here, it shouldn’t be a problem to lure someone special into her arms. She could very well go and boop anyone's nose here and they would follow her home like a dog. Even if for some, the prospect of sharing her with a big, older hound might be a bit off putting…
Colonel!König, however, relieved to see that she finally picked her choice so that they can proceed to the awkward proposal, grows pale when he sees who she’s pointing at.
“Can you believe our luck? He looks exactly like you when you were young!”
She’s so excited that she’s giggling, trying to cover her mouth like she sometimes does when she’s feeling shy.
Just imagine the Colonel’s inner turmoil when he immediately recognizes his younger self, the one he thought was dead, now alive before his eyes and looking like a sorry idiot, trying to harass some women and down beers like water.
He doesn’t only look like him, he is him. Young and rough and desperate, a bullied kid who turned into a bully himself when he grew up. Tall and lean and almost succeeding in feigning self-confidence, his younger version looks like the worst kind of tortured fucker who used to hang around on 4chan and blame women for not giving him pussy...
Before he can prevent it, his wife is gone from his lap. Approaching that silly idiot while unsuspecting, tipsy and sweet – fuck, the young man answers her flirty smile with a flash of a vicious grin...
This will be a nightmare.
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utilitycaster · 7 months
Text
Sean's general self-loathing is well established, but I think the exact nature of it is something I haven't talked about at length or seen discussed in full elsewhere.
At first glance it may seem as though "just fighting squid dogs until I'm dead" and Sean's willingness to go down swinging, throwing himself at most threats, stem from him wishing for a heroic death, but I don't think this is the case. He'd like it - it would give Bee a good thing to tell his mother, for whatever that's worth - but the truth is something he says elsewhere: "No shit. I'm a monster too."
Sean is not terribly worried about harm to himself. It is tempting to assume that his decision to throw the gun down the drain is about wishing to stop himself from using it for suicidal impulses; but I don't think it is. He's worried about using it on others. He throws it away immediately after he envisions the letter in which his mother accuses him of killing innocents and flashes back; later, he acknowledges that had he had a gun, he might have shot Lucas: "I'm not holding a weapon right now, so when my right index finger twitches, nothing happens."
It's helpful to understand Sean in terms of two of the people who come closest to understanding him: Bee and Nathaniel.
Bee, on the surface, has a lot in common with him: both lost their entire family, one way or another, other than each other, Marion, and Peggy (who they did, in a way, lose) and their homes in the war. Bee understands Sean's past - him as a boy, before all of this - in a way no one else can, since Marion was also himself quite young. The difference, however, is that Bee wants to return to that past - and, to be honest, that would fix the majority of her problems. Were Bee's husband to still be alive? Were she to have her home again? That's what she wants! That would be life-changing! And so she thinks about happier times, and urges Sean to go back to a more innocent time, and blames Nathaniel as a figurehead for the war that took this from them.
The problem is that Sean's problem, in the end, is that he went to war and found out he was the kind of person who'd kill things that look like children. He doesn't think they were real children, maybe, but some days he's not sure. His worst fear is that his mother would know precisely what he did with NoMAD, in Ghost company, and he believes she'd hate him for it. If Sean had an apartment? If Sean's mother were out and living in her tenement? Hell, if his brothers were alive? This would not change. It certainly doesn't help, that there's immense loss and poverty on top of all that, but in the end, Sean does not trust himself to make choices, believes it to be only a matter of time before he hurts someone again (to the point that I wonder if this is why he's avoiding his mother, or if it's because that if he spends more time with her she might realize who he is now), and now sees himself, in a way, as, well, kind of like a squid dog - can be tasked to be a protector, but corruptible, easy to turn, and liable to bite those on the same side.
Sean explicitly equates death as freedom from having to make decisions - because he believes he will make wrong ones.
Nathaniel, on the other hand, is much more ignorant of Sean's material losses - he is unaware Sean is living at the chapter house nor does he know about his mother - but what Nathaniel does share, and Bee does not, is that sense of identity shaped by a specific action (or in Nathaniel's case, inaction). Nathaniel thinks himself a coward because he did not save his older brother from drowning; it defines him perhaps even more profoundly than the war (though his response to his officer's pistol indicates the war left plenty of marks on him as well).
Nathaniel might not know the details of Sean's connection to baseball in the same way Bee does (though, notably, they are the only two to engage with it; Jean and Marion haven't). It's not clear if Nathaniel knows quite what happened in Ghost Company either - it's not even stated if Sean came to Echo Company before, or after, though it really only makes sense after. However, he does understand someone who doesn't think they will make the correct choices; he understands guilt and self-loathing in a way Bee does not. He understands being the surviving child and believing your parents got the worse deal out of that. And so it's Nathaniel who understands the importance of giving Sean orders, and the (temporary and false) absolution even an imperfect institution and the identities it confers provides.
Nathaniel's issues with himself are not on the same level as Sean's - he seems to have come to a place of "I'm a coward, and would prefer not to be, but at least I'm attempting to use what skills I have" [ignore whether or not he's actually a coward, that doesn't ultimately matter in this discussion, the same way that it doesn't matter that Sean bought his sick brother a hat with his paltry spending money] whereas Sean is actively opposing any indication that he isn't a monster, or at best a weapon. But he does understand that Sean's issues come from a similar place and how to live with them - which is something Sean does not yet see as a possibility.
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wardenparker · 1 month
Note
You know I need me some Connie forehead kisses, so Detective Tim Rockford and “Wait! Don’t leave.”
I mean, there’s so many options so I’m tossin’ that one up there, but I’m also gonna say “Connie’s Choice”! You hit a massive milestone so you should getta celebrate however you see fit, darlin’.
Detective Tim Rockford and “____” <- You fill in the prompt.
*points to my forehead*
Right here! When you’re ready. No pressure. 😁😘🥰
My darling Dax 🧡 You get ALL the forehead kisses, but unfortunately also a very sad microfic.
Tim Rockford. 2,332 words. "Wait! Please don't leave!" Co-written with @absurdthirst Warnings: Explicit descriptions of crime scene, death, murder, domestic dispute (verbal), angst
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The rain beats against the windshield, his knuckles tight against the steering wheel as the headlights slice through the inky black of the night. Tim doesn’t pay attention, he can’t. The blare of the police radio cuts through the silence in the car, his thoughts racing in circles as he drives as if he’s on autopilot.
Sharp winds whip around his car outside, an annoyance of white noise in the background that only makes his blood pressure rise when it shakes his little car. He knows the address he’s driving to. He knows it by heart.
******
“I just wish you would put me first once.” You express as he jams the loose items that are scattered across the dresser into his pockets. Two dollars and thirty-seven cents in change, a pocket knife, a losing scratch off ticket, a receipt from Jimmy’s Hot Dogs, a random mint, the ever present cigarette lighter and his wallet. The badge is tucked into his jacket, along with his car keys, hanging on the coat tree near the front door.
“I got a call.” He huffs, annoyed by the guilt that is settling on his shoulders. “You know the drill.”
“Can you even tell me the last time you ate dinner at home?” The last thing you want is to be cruel to him but you’re trying to make a point. Your husband of seven years and partner of ten has been slipping further and further from your fingers with every passing day and you’re at your wits end with how to get it to stop.
Your name is like a sigh of frustration and he pauses, turning tired eyes on you. He’s tired of the same arguments over and over again. “I’ll be back.” He tells you, turning and walking towards the door.
“Tim, wait!” The anguish that cracks your voice comes with tears — guilty, burning ones that you were trying not to let free. “Please don’t go.”
His resolve cracks and he turns, his hand on the door knob. “Babe, I have to go.” He doesn’t— not really. It’s not his case, but he feels like it’s connected to that fucking mystery that has taken over his life. As soon as he can solve it, he will fix this gully between the two of you. “I’ll be back in a few hours and we can talk, okay?” You don’t answer, but he takes that as your agreement. “I love you.”
“Be safe.” Unable to even bring yourself to say that you love him back — because you do, you absolutely fucking do but right now it feels like he’s just saying the words to placate you — you turn away and slip back into the kitchen. Tim is never home and you work a 9-5, so the chores pile up relentlessly. Maybe you’ll put dishes in the dishwasher and clothes in the dryer and go to bed early.
Walking out the door feels like he is fighting against himself, but the urge to close this case, to finish things off is too great to ignore. He pushes back the sight of your hurt face out of his mind and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. Walking towards his car, he’s not Tim, your husband, he’s changed into Detective Rockford.
******
“Detective Rockford?” The primary on the case is already there, and he wasn’t expecting back up. But the seasoned detective that he knows well is a welcome sight, even if Rockford doesn’t quite look himself.
“Hey Jimmy.” Tim gives a wan smile before looking towards the tape. “What do we got?”
The young detective has worked hard for his place on the force and seen plenty, but this one is a lot even for him. “Female. Forties. Stabbed to death in her own living room. Pretty gruesome stuff, honestly, and you know these things don’t usually get to me.”
Tim swallows, closing his eyes and swaying where he stands. “Do—” he chokes out and his voice falters. “Do we have the guy?” He manages after a moment, trying not to cry right there.
“We have tire tracks, finger prints, and plenty of detritus under the vic’s fingernails. She fought hard.” Jimmy shuffles, not used to seeing his mentor this emotional. “Some of the wounds look defensive. And the weapon was left at the scene.”
His lip trembles and he inhales sharply. “Are you— are you sure it’s the homeowner?” He asks shakily, praying for a miracle.
“ID in her purse matches.” The younger man confirms. “Seems like she had barely gotten home. Might’ve been a robbery gone bad, but we need to take a more thorough look before that call gets made.”
Tim shakes his head, body trembling and he screams out your name, rushing towards the house. “Baby! Baby, come out!” He shouts, ducking under the tape and bolting through the door. “Sweetheart? Baby? Answer me!”
“Detective Rockford!” Jimmy swirls to run after him, not understanding what’s caused such a monumental break in his colleague’s behavior. Obviously he knows the victim, otherwise it makes even less sense.
Tim can’t stop, doesn’t even hear Detective Fallon as he rushes into the house and over to the body that is draped in a white sheet, the thick material slowly being soaked red with blood. Choking as he drops to his knees, he reaches up to draw the sheet back.
“Ma’am, you really can’t be—” Detective Fallon’s voice is part of a sea of white noise, unheard and unnoticed by Tim as he reaches for the corner of the sheet he absolutely shouldn’t be touching. “Ma’am, this is an active crime scene!”
But you don’t hear him, blasting past the young detective to stumble into your own living room, where the figure of your sister is crumpled in the middle of the carpet and covered in a sheet. “Get away from her!” Is all you can think to say, burning tears choking anything but fear and anguish out of existence.
Your voice makes him freeze, head whipping up to see you and his eyes widen. Choking out your name, he then whispers— “Is it— are you?”
“Tim?” He’s the last person you ever expected to see again, let alone in this house, but suddenly you’re actually glad for it. He looks like he’s seen a ghost, but you’re shaking with fear for the reality of who is under that sheet.
You are alive. His eyes dart back to the sheet and he looks back at you with a small frown. “You’re here.” He breathes out, immediately understanding. Since the divorce, you had lived with your sister. He stands and moves over towards you. “Baby.” He knows this will hurt you and he wants to take away the pain if he can.
“Is that…” You don’t have to finish the question. The boot poking out from under the sheet is the pair she borrowed from you, and the blood spattered purse with an evidence tag next to it is so familiar you would know it in your sleep. “She accidentally grabbed my purse when she left for work this morning.” You choke out the explanation but lurch forward when your knees buckle and your heart squeezes up into your throat. “Was it—were they—was it supposed to be me?”
“I don’t know.” You are about to break, he’s witnessed enough families to know. Stepping closer, he strokes your arm and looks into your beautiful, devastated eyes. “I don’t know baby, but I’m going to find them. I’m going to find who did this.” He promises.
******
The fluorescent lights of the station are harsh and the coffee in your hand is burnt, but it's better than being in your house. At this point you doubt you can ever go back there again and you're definitely trying to figure out where you're going to go or what you're going to do once you leave the station.
Tim comes back with a bottle of water for you, offering it to you when he walks up, and exchanges it for the coffee that you aren’t really interested in. “Preliminaries look like it was a mugging/burglary gone wrong.” Tim tells you quietly, aware that he probably shouldn’t say anything about this, period, but this is your sister. And you used to be his wife. “Camera footage from the neighbors show that the suspect approached her when she opened the door.”
"I don't–" Your head bobs in thanks when he takes the coffee from your hands and replaces it with the water bottle, though you still don't do anything but hold it. For your whole life you were always the person to be able to take charge and provide comfort in a crisis. Now that the crisis is your own, you're drawing a blank. "Will they let me go back? For–for clothes and stuff, I mean? I need to find a hotel..."
Tim grimaces. “It’s….still a crime scene.” He tells you reluctantly. “No one goes in right now.” He bites his lip, knowing that the DA would be pissed, but he would log a record of it in the case file. “If you want to make a list, I could get you some things.” He wants to offer to let you stay with him, in the old house you used to share, but that might be too much for you.
"No, I...I don't want you to get in trouble for me." There are strict rules for crime scenes. You were a cop's girlfriend and then wife for long enough to know that. "I can just get some stuff from Target tomorrow. Temporary stuff..."
“I can.” He offers, squatting down to look at you. “Do you have a friend…a boyfriend, where you can stay with them?” He asks, even if the idea makes him sick. He lost you, he has no right to be upset if you’ve moved on. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
"No." For as long as you and Tim were together, he knows you never really had an extensive circle of people close to you. You're an introvert and most of your friends were either his coworkers or the spouses of those coworkers. The friends you made in college have all gone their separate ways by now, and you had had your best friend in your sister. "No it's just Liz and me..." It was just the two of you, anyway.
Tim sighs softly and his brow furrows in concern. “You can— you don’t have to— but, you can stay with me.” He offers, unsure of how you would take his offer. You had told him during the divorce that you couldn’t wait to be done so you would never have to see him again, and circumstance had changed that. He still hasn’t told you he hadn’t had to be at that crime scene. He had just memorized your address and when it came over the radio, his heart had dropped.
"Wouldn't you get in trouble?" That has to be a conflict of interest or something, but the idea of being safe tonight has you shaking all over again when you suddenly jolt at the memory of why you even need safety in the first place.
“No.” Tim shakes his head. “You aren’t a suspect, never were. And the captain knows who you are.” He wants to reach out and wrap his arms around you, keep you safe, but he doesn’t want to overstep. “Or I can get you a hotel. Wherever you want.”
For maybe the first time since you walked into your house to see him standing there, you actually look up a little and meet Tim's eyes. "I don't think I should be alone, either," you admit quietly.
His heart breaks at the loss in your eyes, the sense that you are adrift and unsure of your course. He nods. “Then you don’t have to be alone, sweetheart.”
"There's not...not anyone at home who would be upset?" You have no business being upset if there is – after all you're the one who filed for divorce, not him – but you still stop your hand for reaching for him when it's halfway out.
He doesn’t miss the gesture and reaches out to take your hand. “No.” He promises. “Just a really lazy cat named Twix.” He licks his lips, heart pounding at the touch of your skin against his and he pushes those feelings down. He just means to comfort you. “No one since you left. Your blanket is still on the couch.”
“I—” There's no reason to refuse, and you're a little too shell-shocked at the moment to know whether or not you could actually manage all the logistics of a hotel on your own. Besides – again – the idea of being alone doesn't sit well with you. "Thank you." you manage finally, gripping his hand tightly in gratitude.
“You’re welcomed.” He knows he should get you home, his home, and he squeezes your one last time before letting it go. “Let me go finish up for the night, and we’ll get you settled.”
"Wait." Your hand tightens instinctively, holding him beside you. "Please don't leave?" Even in a room full of bustling people doing their jobs, without Tim beside you, you feel completely alone. And even though you know he has to do his job, you just – you need that comfort for a few minutes more.
It’s the same words that have haunted him for years, the ones you had uttered one desperate night that he had disregarded, signaling the end of your relationship. He regretted that night in the middle of the lonely nights that followed, wishing that he could somehow go back, do things different. He can’t change the past, but he can show you the compassion you need. Shifting to his knees in front of you, Tim looks up at you, his eyes wider than normal as he gives you his promise. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, sweetheart.”
______
Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer
My Masterlist!
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multi-fandomsfreak · 8 months
Note
Okay my request is Xenophanes(Sonic.ExE) fluff headcanons when the reader gives him pets and scratches behind his ears(probably his favorite spot) (I headcanon he’s very clingy and wants attention that’s why he’s so possessive over the reader)
(if you don’t mind- I really love Xeno)
Xenophane Fluff Headcanons
Hey thanks for the ask
Of course I don’t mind. Honestly I don’t blame you for liking him, it’s the same for me as well. Also, I actually like that headcanon. To think that you can get xeno to be clingy and possessive by a simple gesture. Anyways, hopes you enjoy. ~ J/Blaze
Pronouns: Not Mentioned
Warning: ⚠️Some swearing here and there⚠️
Requested: Yes/No
Characters: Xenophane/Sonic.exe
Proofread: ❌
Credits: Art by Groowwll on Twitter + Banner by MaybeAriaaaa on Pinterest
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- When you first decided to pet xeno initially he’s confused as fuck. You, a mere mortal, was petting him who he considers himself a god like a goddamn dog. Do you not have a death wish? You clearly do if you're doing this to him. But at the same time he can’t really deny that it feels good but knowing xeno there’s no way in hell he’ll admit it. You're not going to get xeno to admit that he enjoys this, he’s too prideful to admit it but I’m pretty sure that it would be so he doesn’t really say anything about it.
- This is probably one of the only times you get to see him like this and only you, no one else. He wouldn’t dare be caught doing this or do it with other people. You're an exception that he’s willing to make. Surprisingly he gets really embarrassed, almost like a child being embarrassed by their parents. But it doesn’t really matter to you, no matter how many times he tells you to stop, you still keep doing it and to be honest he actually kind of impressed that you don’t give up easily and actually praises you for it despite the situation he’s doing it in. On the other hand, if he sees anyone or anything that wants you to do the same to them that you do to him, he immediately gets really jealous. Yes he knows that he may or may not be contradicting himself but you're his, you belong to him you can only do that to him. He demands your attention. It's not his fault that you’ve got him hooked onto you just from a simple movement of your hand. He’s basically the definition of that one cat meme:
+ Xeno -
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+ Also Xeno -
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- Slight adding in the previous point, sometimes when you do this to him he becomes slightly self conscious. Like sure he likes it and doesn’t necessarily mind you doing it but he kind of feels like he’s not being seen as scary. He likes it when people are afraid of him and when he sees someone who isn’t he doesn’t really know what to do. It surprised you that xeno can even feel self conscious but despite that you still comfort him. You still tell him that he’s great at doing what he is, just because you're doing this doesn’t mean you think he’s weak
- Just like you’ve said in your request when you do this xeno can become very clingy towards you. As soon as you gently scratch him (especially behind the ears) he immediately stops whatever he’s doing and just goes limp. Congrats you’ve managed to get xeno to go limp, you definitely deserve a medal. You’ve got him in your arms, maybe if you're lucky he’s got his arms around you while you're patting his head. Obviously you do ask him beforehand if you can do it, you weren’t about to risk your life all for a head pat. But sometimes if he’s pissed off enough or in a bad mood you don’t even have to ask him. I can imagine him finding you and just grabbing you, taking you somewhere it’s just the two of you and placing your hand on his head.
- Okay can I just say that he definitely purrs when you pat his head or a noise something similar to it. Some sort of noise to indicate he enjoys it. There’s definitely some times where you’ve pointed it out but of course xeno shuts it down immediately acting like you’re hearing things and immediately demands you continue petting him.
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a-forbidden-detective · 5 months
Text
Curious add-ons, Episode 10 (Part 6), The Blush and other things
Like what I’ve mentioned before, Wataru Watari and co. edited out Akira’s dialogue and panels in the manga and added a few things that ante up RonToto’s relationship.
(If you listen to the RKDD voice actors, Youhei Azakami especially, they say RonToto when referring to their—his and EnokiJun’s— characters often during their radio show out of laziness, heh, and habit maybe.)
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The blush after Ron notices that Toto is looking at him. Probably caught by his bashfulness, in the end, he smiles at Toto, but realises that there’s something off after Toto sighs loudly.
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Honestly, this is so sweet. The anime writers are invested making use of Akira’s panels where Ron loves to smirk so we can hear him say “heh” with the movement of his lips and giving emphasis on the quiet moments where the characters can interact without words but still heavily imply that emotions are surging. I particularly like the scenes between Toto and John Grizzly where the BLUE instructor was interrogating Toto’s relationship with Ron. That was a minute of no dialogue only the reaction of their faces shown.
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“So, that’s how much… she likes you” is replaced with this nicer statement from Ron. Anyone who treats his friend Toto nicely gets a star from him.
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With the following scenes Toto has come out more dominant than in the manga.
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And yesterday new merchandise had been unveiled just in time for the upcoming Jump Festa. Two of them are these images of the two. Ron is wearing a trendy attire with harnesses on his chest area and a dog tag. Whereas Toto is wearing a sort of street-smart urban outfit. The joke on X Twitter is who’s the “dog” and who is the owner.
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Yes. It is all coincidence. And I am probably projecting.
They definitely removed Ron’s “I feel the same way” line and instead included the dialogue suggesting two things. 1)Ron sees that Toto is fond of ordering takeouts that it is implied that he cooks for the police officer from time to time. His recipes are mostly drenched with black syrup. 2) because Toto is not into cooking, he wishes that one day he does break this habit. Maybe because it is not healthy. This is where my head canon and speculation collide. Seeing that cooking is chemistry and Ron has been a hikikomori for five years and had lots of time during those times he probably had so many things tried and experimented.
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From an outsider’s point of view, like Chikori, who has been wondering what the hell is the relationship between these two.
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myyoungroyalsblog · 10 months
Text
Red, White and Royal Blue fic rec part 2 (part 1)
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*Note: I have a lot of unfinished fics in my subscriptions but since there are over 120+ fics there from other fandoms too I won’t be able to add those, when they are finished I’ll do another post in the future!
*Also couldn't find some of these writers here on tumblr, if you know tell me and I’ll add their @ beside it!
MULTI-CHAPTER
Things I Cannot Accept
18 chapters, 69.703 words
By @sprigsofviolets AU where Ellen lost the election in 2016 and Henry and Alex reconnect in 2019. Super cute and interesting story, with a lot of fluff and angst, amazingly written!
Captious (calculated to confuse, entrap or entangle in argument)
3 chapters, 14.256 words
Blind date AU... Well... Sort of... You'll know when you read it hehe but honestly so so sweet with a bit of angst but so much fluff!
My Only Wish (This Year)
7 chapters, 26.374 words
By @dracowillhearaboutthis AU where Henry marries a woman and has two daughters, set 10 years later and Alex and Henry reconnect, and maybe a romance blooms... Of course it does lol very cute kid fic (with a bit of angst too) but still lots of fluff!
Comfort Crowd
8 chapters, 12.098 words
To all the boys I've loved before AU, I don't like the film but since I'm such a sucker for these two of course I read it and got obsessed with it afajsgshsvsg
And they call it—
2 chapters, 10.148 words
By @clottedcreamfudge AU where Alex can talk to animals, so when Henry needs a dog sitter he goes to Alex, and he and David obviously talk about Henry. So funny and fluffy, guaranteed to make you smile!
(do i really have to tell you) how he brought me back to life?
7 chapters, 38.498 words
By @coffeecatsme High school AU where Henry gets kicked out by Mary and lives with Alex's family. A whole lot of angst and a whole lot of fluff, just a superb story!
I'm Taking A Ride With My Best Friend
23 chapters, 79.302 words
By @cultofsappho The Last of Us AU where Henry is immune and Alex helps him get to the fireflies in hopes to create a vaccine. If you've watched the tv show or played the game, you know how this goes lol could not recommend it enough, so much angsty but has fluffy moments too! And the writing is impeccable
i'd lie
6 chapters, 18.058 words
AU where Alex and June move to England with thier mum and have the Fox family as their neighbours, we see the super six throughout the years and how Henry lies might not work anymore... If you want angst, this is the fic for you
ONE SHOT
talk too much
3.307 words
By @lazybug16 Alex has his wisdom teeth removed and Henry takes care of him, just fluff fluff fluff, super adorable (yes self promo because I'm very proud of this fic, I love it)
I trace your constellations
13.498 words
Soulmates, coffee shops and demi Henry AU, just pure flirting and fluff, suuuuuuper cute read!
Never Truly Leave
2.443 words
By @clottedcreamfudge Catherine finds a letter that Arthur wrote... To Alex. We cry alongside Alex as he reads it; very emotional, it will make you cry, and fall in love with these characters all over again, could not recommend enough
you knew the entire time (you knew that i'm a mastermind)
8.239 words
By @coffeecatsme Uni and autistic Henry AU, we see Alex and Henry fall in love. Fluffy but also a bit of angst, you just want to protect Henry and tell him everything is going to be okay
starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights
16.367 words
By @coffeecatsme Hugh school AU where Arthur is also alive and becomes like a second father to Alex. Very very sweet with a bit if angst as well, you'll love it and might have a few happy tears towards the end
learning to love (without it having to hurt)
4.861 words
AU where they aren't famous and they are roommates. We see Henry figure out his asexuality and Alex be there for him, and them getting together of course :) very very sweet read!
The last letter
2.173 words
By @floatingaway4 They are in the afterlife, at peace. This weiter managed to combine angst and fluff at the exact same time and I don't know how they did it, it will make you ugly happy cry!
Fourty-Four Days
8.675 words
They are living in the Brownstone when Henry needs to go to europe for the shelters and Alex to California for a campaign, and they end up not seeing each other for 44 days, and it's too much. Angsty but then fluffy, it just hurts seeing them miss each other so so much
take me out, and take me home
11.837 words
Roommates AU and we see Alex get some feelings, only friendly feelings of course... Really cute story and ending!
i’d take the bomb in your head and disarm it
22.392 words
By @evanbuvkley roommates AU and friends to angsty friends to lovers afahsgsjshdj so much angst that you might cry but a bit of fluff too (happy ending don't worry) such an engaging story, very well executed
and I wrote down our song
6.072 words
AU where Alex is a musician and Henry isn't a prince and they meet at a bar where Alex is performing. Super cute and we see how they fall in love and grow and it's just full of joy!
Group therapy
3.243 words
By @stutteringpeach AU where Ellen is Henrys therapist and he is dating Alex and talks to Ellen about their relationship, without knowing that it's actually his boyfriends mum... They "meet" at a family cook out and its honestly hilarious lmao you will not stop laughing
187 notes · View notes
writethrough · 3 months
Note
Can I request a Morpheus and reader where the reader is krypton like supergirl and he doesn’t know until I show him and we are dating and I risk my life to save him from people who wants to kill him
Thank you 😊
With Power Comes Misunderstandings
(Morpheus x Female Reader)
Synopsis: When Morpheus is late for your date, the only explanation is that someone's tried to harm him because of you—Supergirl's and Lena Luthor's daughter. After all, why else would they want your completely normal, powerless boyfriend?
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1623
A/N: Thanks you so much for sending this request in! And thank you for being so patient with me! This one kind of stumped me for a long time, but I think I figured out a way to write it that, hopefully, does your idea justice. It's slightly different, maybe a little lighter than the original idea, but I really played on the "doesn't know you have powers" bit. I hope you enjoy!
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He had your full attention, he always did. 
For all the sounds you could hear and how far you could see, everything in you focused on Morpheus. 
He had this calmness that soothed your soul. He held himself with such confidence and clarity, and you desperately needed that. 
Your life was hectic to say the least. 
Being the child of Kara Danvers and Lena Luthor was one thing. But having powers like both of your mothers was something else entirely. You were born with Supergirl’s speed and senses, and the Walsh affinity for magic. 
However, they both wished for you to grow up as human-like as you could. You went to school, college, got a job, and when you were old enough, they started training you. 
You were disappointed when you discovered heat vision and freeze breath weren’t in your arsenal of powers. But, it turned out, they translated into your magic. 
Fire and water were at your disposal. Two sides of the same coin—the light and the dark. Much like your parents’ families. 
They told you stories, you watched and read the news—you knew their history. But one of the things they always taught you was that your story was your own. They embodied it in everything they did. Even in their names: Kara Danvers-Walsh and Lena Walsh-Danvers. 
It was why you never felt the need to keep secrets from them. You also never forgot that if anyone could sus them out, it was your mothers.  
When you initially told them you were seeing someone, you asked them to respect your privacy and to not go digging. Though, you doubted that they would find anything. It’s not like Morpheus had an Instagram—any social media for that matter. You didn’t mind that, though. He wasn’t attached to this modern-day vanity. He didn’t live his life for an audience, he did it for himself. 
Glancing at your watch, you wondered just where your other half was. 
Today, you were finally going to introduce your parents to Morpheus. You could already hear Kara asking how you two met, itching to get confirmation of the meet-cute she had already imagined. 
It was kind of cliché. 
You were walking your dog, she caught a whiff of a hot dog cart and bolted, and Morpheus grabbed her leash just before she could snatch one from the cart owner’s fingers. 
You had thanked him profusely, that twinge of irritation ringing because you couldn’t use your speed in public. 
Morpheus was gorgeous. And you may or may not have given your pup extra treats for inadvertedly introducing you two. 
Again, you checked your watch, tugging on the simple stud in your ear. Your magic thrummed within them, the spell to conceal said magic always on you. Your parents recommended the idea early on, a protective measure. It kept you hidden from anyone who could sense your power. 
You sighed. It wasn’t like Morpheus to be late. If anything, he was always perfectly on time, appearing the second the clock turned. 
Your stomach churned, and there was a prickling underneath your skin. 
Something was wrong. 
You clutched the necklace Morpheus had given you a few weeks ago. It had been a true surprise—not a birthday gift or a silly monthaversary token. He’d given it to you out of the blue, and said when he saw it, he thought of you. 
A ruby, no bigger than your pinky fingernail, hung from a delicate gold chain. It was the most recent possession you had of his at the moment, but thankfully, it should hold enough meaning between the two of you to lead you to him. 
You muttered a few words, imbuing it with your magic, and instantly, it cooled against your chest. 
Too far. 
The chain warmed along your left side, pulling you in that direction. 
You ran when you could, slowing when too many people were around. 
The necklace lost its warmth in front of a rundown barn five miles south of the city. Everything about it screamed “Do Not Enter.” Smashed-in windows, chipped paint, overgrown foliage—trees creating a shroud, its very own darkness. 
You exhaled shakily. Morpheus was inside. And the only reason you could come up with was that someone found out about you. Someone needed to get you away from your family with enough leverage to make you come alone. And they chose Morpheus. The man your parents knew of, but not who he was. You weren’t sure if it was sheer luck or pure coincidence. 
You kept him hidden too long, and now look what’s happened. 
You should’ve been more careful. People were always trying to hurt your parents, hurt you, but you were all strong. Morpheus was innocent in all of this, and you were going to make sure whatever asshole took him would be sent straight to prison. 
It was that thought that made you kick in the door, charging into something you never expected. 
“Morpheus?” 
He stood as he always did, calm and collected—unbothered even—with five men unconscious at his feet. 
His head tilted almost imperceptively. “Darling?” 
“What happened?” you asked, spotting the chalk-drawn runes. 
Walking along the circle, you recognized most of them. Entrapment, weakening, barriers, and one that you’d never seen. You were so wrapped up in deciphering it that you hadn’t realized he never answered you. 
“Morpheus?” You furrowed your brow, and he avoided your gaze. 
“I must confess an error.” He spoke softly, almost...ashamed? 
You slowly stepped closer. “What are you talking about? Are you alright?” 
That seemed to make his shoulders drop more. 
“I am unharmed, but I fear my misjudgement will...effect us.” 
“You can tell me anything,” you urged, fingers brushing his forearm. 
“I—” He stopped himself, eyes pleading with you. “I have not been truthful, and it has endangered you.” He glanced to the men. “They wanted to use you to manipulate me.” 
Your features pinched. Why on Earth would they want to control Morpheus? And why did he think these people were after him and not you? 
You shook your head. “This isn’t your fault. They wanted me.” 
You moved to the runes again, missing the confusion passing over his face. 
“These are symbols meant to draw in magic. They wanted to trap someone here.” You stopped at the one you couldn’t place. “I’m not sure what they were doing with this one, though.” 
“They made a mistake. It means nothing.” 
You scanned it. 
He was right. It was almost like the men smashed two runes together. It was completely useless. 
...But how did Morpheus know that? 
The question was on the tip of your tongue when he interupted. 
“I am Morpheus, Dream of the Endless.” 
You blinked. “What?” 
He stepped toward you, slowly, as if afraid you’d run from him. 
“I am not human...am I to think the same for you?” His eyes lit trails over your body even in his investigation. 
You nodded, everything piecing its way together. 
“So, wait. You’re saying that you were the target, and that they wanted me as bait?” you asked. It wasn’t anything completely new. Your mothers had security all over you until you came into your power. “How did you get to them before they got to me?” 
“Their dreams. One fell asleep here and showed me what they wished to do,” he said, head down. 
His fingers slipped into your hand, a point of connection he seemed to need. 
“My deepest apologies, dear one.” 
Your brow furrowed. “Why are you apologizing?” 
His thumb grazed over the back of your hand. “I was late for our meeting.” 
Your smile started small, then grew until you were giggling. His eyebrows twitched, but the uptick of his lips was all you saw before you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. 
His hands settled at your waist as he returned it. 
“That’s what you’re worried about,” you mumbled into his lips. “I think—” kiss “—I can—” kiss “—forgive you.” 
He cupped your cheeks, gliding his nose against yours. 
“How very generous.” 
The last bit of your giggling escaped, gripping his coat. 
“You have not told me who you are,” he said, eyes locked. 
You hummed, then gave him one last kiss. “I think it’s best if you get everything all at once.” 
Gripping his hand, you were about to walk out of the barn when his firm hold stopped you. 
“I believe I have a faster way.” 
--- 
“Wait. So, you thought he was the bait for you, and he thought you were the bait for him?” Aunt Alex asked, waving her fork between you and Morpheus. 
You nodded. “I think he was more surprised than me.” 
He gazed at you fondly. “I have never been more pleased to learn a secret that had been kept from me.” 
“Oh?” Lena asked. “Why’s that?” 
“She is protected even if I can not come to her aid.” 
Kare “awwed” as she brought in two pans of food with Aunt Kelly carrying a large bowl. 
You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. 
“Trust me,” Kelly started. “Even if she wasn’t powered, she has an entire legion behind her.” 
Morpheus gripped your hand beneath the table. You glanced to him, then caught Kara’s eyes, a knowing look as she turned to your boyfriend. Your cheeks warmed when you realized she wasn’t wearing her glasses. 
“We’ll have to introduce you to everyone one day,” Kara said. “Since we’ll be seeing more of you.” 
Your jaw relaxed as you caught it just before it opened. She wasn’t wrong, but you didn’t think she’d be so bold. 
Morpheus gave your hand a light squeeze. “It would be an honor.” 
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Taglist: @sayumiht, @hatterripper31, @snowsatsu, @1950schick, @navs-bhat, @bookshelf-dust, @sapphireonline, @fictional-hooman, @steph-speaks, @ladyredstar1991, @secretdreamlandmentality, @ababycake, @morpheuss1mp, @boofy1998, @alice-the-nerd, @herfantasyworldd, @poemfreak306, @tronnily, @commanderfreethatdust
If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on. 
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merakiui · 10 months
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Rental (Boy/Girl)friend!darling is really appealing to me! Imagine if darling was the pretty and proper type kyaaaahh💙💙💙
(tw: yandere, noncon)
My fave incel Idia probably got way too attached to darling. This has infinite yandere scenarios! 💙
Idia just raw dogging rental!Darling against their will! Omg... Baby trapping too hhhhh.
Imagine if darling complains to his parents about it except papa and mama shroud congratulated darling instead.
"Just come to us if you need financial backing!"
"This wasn't in the contract!"
Omg yes!!! >v< He definitely gets too swept up in the feelings of being in a (contractual) relationship that he forgets the two of you are only in a relationship for however long you spend with him every other day. Outside of that, you’re not his and he’s not yours. Idia’s grown so attached to the fluffy relationship you’ve created with him that he takes to sneaking trackers into your bag and finding ways to watch you through cameras when you think you’re all alone in your home.
He’s always thought no one would ever truly understand him or have the same passions as him, so when you always play games with him (and you’re actually fairly decent at some of them) or when you binge anime with him or when you get into eager discussions over your favorite characters and the idols he’s introduced you to, he falls even harder for you. You’re everything he could ever want. In the back of his mind, he’s somewhat aware you’re just cultivating this image for him so that you can be his ideal partner. But that doesn’t matter to him. It’s the experience! The honesty! The dedication to your job and hefty paycheck this totally authentic relationship!
And babytrapping as well! I like to think he gets a little confidence with you around. He knows you won’t judge him and if you do it’s all silent. <3 you’re the most perfect partner, after all! So maybe he feels just slightly confident when gently kissing turns more hungry and determined, and he’s too in love with you to think about stopping when you lift your shirt over your head and slip out of your shorts. You’re so perfect. He could stare at you for hours, and he does, so caught up in his own delusions and excitement. Normally 3D does nothing for him. The idea of having real sex always made him shudder, but Idia can’t help thinking how hot you are all spread out on his bed, grabbing at the sheets while he stretches you out with slim fingers. And you make the cutest sounds, too. For once he’s forever grateful his parents rented you for his sake, otherwise he never would’ve met you. It’s a relief he let them and Ortho talk him into giving this thing a try.
You try to remind him about condoms, but do you really think Idia owns a package of those? You really wish, but he promises he’ll pull out before he cums. He’s not some virgin who’d get so pussy-drunk he ends up spilling hot and deep (he is). He’s awkward at first, his face flushed the brightest shade of pink, all the way to the tips of his hair as he tries to hold you, touch you, be cool about this entire thing. It’s cute! He considers backing out because he’s so nervous, but you spread yourself so nicely for him and you even wore that lingerie he got you… (it’s somewhere on his bed, but that really doesn’t matter now). You assure him it’ll be okay. When you wrap a slick hand around his dick and give him a few reassuring pumps, looking up at him with the most lascivious of looks, he’s sold.
Idia has always assumed real sex was something like hentai, but the moment he’s slotted himself inside you he’s nearly crumpling. It’s so much warmer and tighter inside you. Definitely much better than his hand or any fleshlight he’s ever used. He feels almost dizzy when he looks down at you and you wrap your arms around him to tug him close and omg your legs just wrapped around his waist!!!! He’s internally fanboying over it LOL. This is everything he could ever want. Needless to say, he becomes pussy-drunk rather fast, and within the first minute or so he’s cumming in thick spurts and you’re too dazed to realize this at first. :) and after fumbling around for a little bit, trying to find a pace that isn’t so awkward, he’s finally settled into a good groove.
He makes a mess out of you, but then he’s also quite a mess after emptying so many loads inside you. By the third one, you’re begging him to pull out, mumbling through moans and gasps that you don’t want to get pregnant. You can’t afford to take so much time off your job to care for a baby, and you don’t even have the money for one right now. But money’s never been a problem for Idia—not when your family’s mega wealthy and super influential. Maybe it’s the sex and his dick talking, but he wouldn’t mind seeing you all swollen and round with his baby. <3 and maybe if you did get pregnant you could finally be his real partner. For once the idea of marriage isn’t so terrifying to Idia, nor is parenthood. But then he’s also incredibly pussy-drunk when he’s fucking you raw, so maybe he’s not in the most sensible mindset. ^^;;; but it’s okay. His parents will provide so much love and support. How could they ever be mad at you and Idia? You’re already part of the family now!
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Hihihihihhihihi!!!
Can I request a Damian Wayne x shy reader, enemies to lovers/tsundere Dami? Like, the reader is super sweet and has a very apparent crush on Robin and Damian makes fun of her a little for it. He’s kind of a prick but only because he has the inability to recognize his crushy wushy feelings. Unbeknownst to him though, she has actual feelings for Damian and only uses her crush on Robin to hide that fact, mostly because she thinks he would never feel the same way.
Eventually, Damian perhaps finds a drawing of himself with hearts/confession (or something along those lines) in the readers sketchbook and she freaks out, ready for him to reject her feelings. He doesn’t though and they kiss 😚
Extra points if he reveals he’s Robin to her
Thank youuuuuuu
Tsundere! Damian Wayne x Reader
Damian Wayne x reader or Damian Wayne/reader
Word count: 5654 words
TW: GN reader, adult Damian Wayne (inspired and mostly based off of Damian in Batman beyond & Injustice 2: Gods among us), mentions drugs, Damian being rude & Damian borderline breaking into someone's home.
You and Damian probably went to the same university. Perhaps you were an exchange student, who came from either another country or another part of the US, whichever it is, Damian ended up being assigned as the guy to show you around campus. Maybe Damian signed up to do so for extra points, or, (much more likely), he was forced to do so by the school as a punishment for him acting out against a professor.
The two of you may or may not have studied the same thing at uni. Damian probably studied something relating to business, (so that he could better help Wayne Enterprises), despite him actually wanting to either study something relating to the arts or veterinary sciences. Alas, Damian’s feelings of obligation again weighed out his own wishes and wants. This wouldn’t hinder him in showing you around, however. He might’ve even used it as an excuse to skip some of his less informative classes without getting reprimanded by the professors.
Damian would be thorough in his duties of showing you around. There would not be a single spot on the tiny map of the school grounds, which you were given on the first day, which remained unexplored. It took… a while. Almost two weeks of the green-eyed man showing up at your dorm and dragging you off to your classes, picking you up after them and then taking you to a new spot on the map. While any other guide might’ve shown you the important spots; cafeteria, dorms, the auditoriums and the like. Damian refused to do anything half-heartedly. You ended up knowing where every brick of the buildings and every piece of gravel from the campus roads were. 
If you complained about being dragged everywhere when you’d much rather stay at your dorm and relax, Damian would call you ungrateful and an idiot, before hauling you off again. 
It was around this time when Damian developed the habit of grabbing your wrist and towing you around like a toddler in Disneyland as if you were at risk of getting lost and never being found again. He would actually start seeing you a bit like someone who was semi-incapable of taking care of themselves, not in a “this person is pretty much a child in an adult’s body”-type of way, but more so like “I am now responsible for protecting this person because that is my duty.” Yeah… His vigilantism would definitely make him feel like he was now responsible for your safety, like a scary guard dog. He wouldn’t tell you this, of course. That’d make him feel vulnerable. Instead, he just scolded you constantly, making you aware that he felt as if you were incapable of protecting yourself: “Ugh! Why aren’t you wearing a jacket?! You idiot! Here, have my scarf! No, I’m not gonna let you walk outside without anything other than just your indoor clothes on! It’s not summer anymore, open your eyes, do you see how there’re no more leaves on the trees, that means it’s cold! … I don’t care that your class is just on the other side of the road! Put on the damn scarf!”
Most welcome guides don’t hang around after more than the first week, but Damian did. You became part of his friend group, even though he made it look as if it was against his will and he was only doing it because clearly, you were too shy to make your own friends. 
It was a relatively closed-off friend group and they all seemed so secretive, but they treated you nicely because if Damian was vouching for you, you must’ve been the closest thing the human race can come to perfection. You  obviously had no idea that they were all vigilante sidekicks… Sidekicks which you knew well… really well… 
Jonathan Kent was probably the nicest of them, being three years older than Damian and you, but still only a year ahead of you in university… Apparently, he had taken off multiple sabbatical years to help his father with working on their family farm, a topic which you listened to enthusiastically, no matter how often he repeated himself or how off tangent he got while explaining certain parts, like how he found the best way to pet their cows or how to tell which chickens would lay the best eggs… It almost made Damian jealous. He would never admit it, of course. No, he explained it away as just being annoyed at how his best friend kept talking off the ear of the person he introduced to the group, shutting out all the others because the glasses-wearing man finally found someone who could stand to listen to his farmer’s tales. He blamed Jon for this, not you. He almost felt pity for you, since he couldn’t fathom anyone enjoying listening to someone explaining how to best milk a cow. 
Months passed, you got closer to the group and they all started to call you their “civilian friend”... Not to your face, of course. However, the one you were clearly closest to was Jon, he absolutely adored you and might’ve even gained something along the lines of a puppy-like infatuation. As a result of you and Jon’s newfound friendship, Damian called you out for having a crush on the blue-eyed farmer. You refused vehemently, but the rest of the group picked up on the teasing. Verbally ganging up on both you and Jon, calling you the lovebirds. Jon simply laughed it off, but you felt uncomfortable with all the focus suddenly landing on you. Damian, too, started to feel uncomfortable as he started to question if he was right and that you and Jon actually had a crush on each other. It made him feel weirdly empty, yet he ignored it, disliking the implications of such emotions.
Whenever one of the members of the group returned with bruises all over their legs, arms and face, (usually from a confrontation with one of their nemeses, but also sometimes simply due to their impossibly harsh training), you were the one who patched them up. You never questioned the frequency with which your friends got hurt, assuming that they didn’t want to talk about it since no one ever brought it up or seemed surprised when yet another one of them needed treatment. 
Damian loathed when you assisted the others, a deep pit forming in his stomach, but also detested how his entire body would light up like a fire, whenever you’d help treat a bruise or cut on his face. He especially disliked it when you aided Jon, the two of you always giggled as the blue-eyed man would ask you to patch up one of the few cuts or blue marks that his accelerated healing hadn’t fixed yet. Damian would often wonder why Jon would even ask for your help when he knew his injuries would be gone in a few hours… ‘because he has a crush on them’, a little voice in Damian’s head would whisper and he’d feel marginally worse than he had at the start of the day.
What Damian didn’t know, was that you actually had a crush on him, rather than his best friend. When you weren’t surrounded by the rest of your friends, the two of you clicked amazingly well, despite his many cruel insults. You may or may not have shared similar interests, but you showed curiosity towards his hobbies and it made his heart melt. When you were together one-on-one, Damian would be doing most of the talking, clearly showing you his feelings of grandeur and general confidence. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it attractive in a weird way. But what really made your heart beat with the fury of an angry drummer, was when he became protective. 
Perhaps you had a tendency to let people stomp all over you, preferring to remain quiet rather than speak out when you disagreed with something. Well, that simply didn’t fly with Damian around, he’d be quick to jump to your defence, standing in front of you protectively and confronting whoever did you wrong. There was only one person in this world who got to insult or otherwise bother you and that was him. 
This might have been the clearest when you and your friend group decided to go to Batburgers one day for dinner. You had ordered something which Jon had recommended, but decided to leave out one of the components. Perhaps you were getting jokerised chips(fries), but you didn’t want the rainbow mystery sauce that came with it. It was an admittedly simple order, “Jokerised chips(fries), without the sauce”... Well, the workers either didn’t listen or forgot, because when your order came, guess what? Large clumps of multi-coloured sauce floated down the length of the yellow fried sticks. You immediately decided to just ignore the mistake, it wasn’t that big of a deal and you could scrape the sauce off of the less affected pieces and eat those… Yeah, no need, because Damian quickly spotted your dejected facial expression and leaned closer to you, whispering “What’s up? Got your order wrong?” You didn’t even have to say anything, the moment you gave him a shy nod, he was already standing up from his seat and ready to fight each and every one of the workers… There was thankfully no need for violence, but the way Damian practically screamed into the poor cashier’s face, “You added the damn sauce when they specifically asked for it to be removed!” … Well, he definitely challenged his inner Karen, just for you. It worked though and you were suddenly met with not only a new batch of your previous order, but Damian also decided to buy you a Bat-mite meal which was technically meant for children and not a grown person like yourself, but you appreciated the gesture, thanking him profusely, to the point where even he became bashful. “Okay, okay! Enough thanking me! It’s not that big of a deal! Now eat your food! The rest of us are almost finished! حمار/Himar!”
It might actually be at the Bat-burger trip that you let slip that you had a teeny-tiny… not at all supermassive crush on Robin. Maybe you received a little Robin figurine in your Bat-mite meal and, against your desperate attempts, began grinning like mad. “What’s up with that creepy smile”, Damian interrogated, leaning over you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder to get a better view of the toy you were staring at. “It’s nothing”, you’d chuckle to yourself, your face heating up, unaware of whether it was because of Damian’s actions or the fact that you had been caught sending heart eyes at a figurine. One of the others in the friend group leaned over as well, seeing the statuette in your hands. “Oh my, a Robin figurine, what a coincidence… Wait-”, whoever it was, they were interrupted by Damian. “You were smiling like that at figurine… what is wrong with you?! Are you planning on melting its face off or something? I knew you were a psycho when I met you, it’s always the quiet ones”. The others share in their teasing, with poor you trapped in the middle with only Jon trying to make them stop.
Well, to save your reputation, you ended up blurting out that Robin is your favourite hero, and the entire table shut up. A moment of silence. Then a chorus of disbelieving persuasion erupted, all of them trying to highlight their own hero-personas, telling of how they’re much stronger, cuter, faster and whatever other positive attributes they could come up with: “What?! Robin? Why? Wouldn’t you prefer-”, “-do you really think that caped little gremlin is the better option, why not-”, “-I think superboy is pretty cute, don’t you, Y/n? I mean, he may not be your favourite, but you at least like him, right?” 
Almost out of pity, you ended up agreeing that you almost liked Superboy as much as Robin, just because Jon’s eyes lit up so much… If you were honest, you only really knew of Superboy because he had worked so closely with Robin, but you didn’t have the heart to share that information out loud. Curiously, for the rest of the night, Damian looked so oddly proud, gloating almost. He kept bringing up how Robin was your favourite, something which made poor Jon look like a kicked puppy and the others roll their eyes in pure irritation. Damian also treated you more rudely in his own teasing way throughout the evening, making little jabs about how you were probably one of those bizarre fans who would get themselves in danger, just to see Robin sweep in and save them. In a clumsy effort to play along with his joke, you admitted that you certainly wouldn’t have been opposed to Robin saving you, which you could’ve sworn elicited a slight blush across his cheeks, but you knew better, Damian didn’t blush ever, and certainly not because you sang the praises of the green-masked sidekick. However, he definitely got red in the face as you revealed that you actually had a Robin poster hung up above your bed in your childhood room. “See? What did I say? You are a creep, Y/n.”
After the Bat-Burger dinner, Damian insisted on walking you home like he always did whenever night had fallen. It was here that, after a long string of teasing on Damian’s part, you confessed that you had a celebrity crush on the human-sized traffic light. He had become eerily silent as his head was filled with a strange heat, something he had never tried before. Sure, it reminded him of the ‘crushes’ that he’d had previously on people like Rachel Roth, Kara Danvers and even briefly Stephanie Brown, but they had in no way been this intense… It scared him a little… a lot. 
So, what did he do with this uncertainty of his feelings as you kept expressing how handsome, smart and strong you found the current Robin? He borderline bullied you for it. “Oh! Really? You’re into men who just follow their papas? Who just hides in others’ shadows? Pathetic. Don’t come crying back to me when you someday marry some stupid trust fund baby who treats you like hell”, you had to bite down harshly on your lips to not point out the hypocrisy in Damian’s statement, simply nodding along with the insults, a knowing smile present on you lips. 
After a while of insulting the vigilante, Damian turned his harshness to you, “You really think someone like him would go out with you? I mean, he has a whole fan club, what makes you special? I mean you can barely order for yourself, let alone flirt!” You shrugged most of his critique off, you knew he didn’t really mean it… Or at least you hoped he didn’t, sometimes you did consider that he perhaps just despised the sight of you, but let you hang around out of pity. Still, his insulting of you liking someone so out of your range didn’t particularly hurt you, you already knew that it’d never happen, it did, however, make you think about whether ‘rude manboy, hiding behind his father with a cocky smile’ was simply your type, which in itself was a concerning revelation, but it also made you come to the conclusion that Damian and Robin were surprisingly similar, both personality and looks-wise. 
Damian, obviously, didn’t mean a word of his rant. He almost considered whether Robin and by extension himself, could ever even be halfway good enough for someone as lovable and charming as you. For Pete’s sake! You literally listened to Jon’s farm rambles without complaint, put up with Damian’s piss-poor attitude and patched them all up when they were hurt… How much more perfect could a person get?! Well, maybe it was Damian’s absolute hatred for feeling below someone that wasn’t his parents or grandfather… for the first time in his life… that made him somewhat enjoy being so rude to you… somewhat. 
Slinging out cruel remarks your way made him feel better about himself and offered him better control of his emotions. It kept you at a comfortable distance where he could more easily control his disgusting chrushy-wushy emotions. Disgusting emotions… which he so desperately wanted to release and channel into actually caring for you… But he couldn’t, he didn’t know how to break down his own walls in a way that wouldn’t give you a mental whiplash and cause you to suspect him of something sinister. Not to mention the fact that you probably secretly despised him for his harsh treatment of you. 
He had half a mind to confess and then roll with whatever came after, but the other side of his brain, the logical side, the dominating side, told him to keep quiet and simply ride out whatever feelings he was experiencing… It was pathetic, really. He felt as if was going to go up in flames, cry and die all at the same time, the latter of which he had actually tried, if he didn’t confess to you. Yet, even that was better than the plain rejection he envisioned you’d give him.
Well, one day your shared dancing around your feelings came to an end when Damian got a not-so-brilliant idea. It was while he was on patrol. Damian, high from the adrenaline of a huge fight with Killer Croc and Poison Ivy (…as well as some iridescent dust that the two had thrown in his face), decided to visit your dorm. 
His drugged-up condition made him neglect how creepy it might look to simply show up at your home, he had purely good intentions, but Damian had never been good at normal friendly gestures and the fluffy feeling inside of his skull surely didn’t make it any better. He knew you liked Robin, so he pondered to himself, ‘Wouldn’t they enjoy a visit from their favourite vigilante? Give them an autograph? Take a photo with them? Talk to them? Yeah! Of course, they would! I’ll just tell them that ‘Damian sent me’, they’ll be ecstatic!” 
So, with that idea in mind, Damian made his way to your dorm. Climbing up to the window he knew was yours, (he had visited you a hundred times, after all), and knocked with two of his knuckles. He had forgotten that most people are not awake at 1 am, and so, he ended up banging his sore knuckles against the glass of your window for almost five minutes straight until he finally heard rustling from within. When you rose from your bed, Damian almost cooed out loud. Your hair was a mess, sticking out in all directions and your pyjamas was clearly a few sizes too big as they hung on your body in a cute yet awkward way. Opening your window with a disturbed look in your eyes, unable to see the man hanging just below your field of vision, covered by the dark of night. You almost screamed as Damian slung himself into your room, quickly covering your mouth with his gloved hand as it was clear that you were about to cry out in horror.
 Yeah… So Damian clearly hadn’t thought this endeavour out particularly well, which was very unlike him, but he had come to the realisation at this point that he was not feeling quite like himself either. Still, as he held you close to him, one hand covering your mouth and the other at your waist, he couldn’t help but easily slip into the story he had prepared previously. With an apologetic smile, he quickly let go of you, backing away with his arms raised high to show you that he meant no harm. 
“W-who are you? What are you d-doing in m-my room?” You stuttered out, your hands shaking like leaves in the wind. Damian huffed out in humour as he went to close your window, he didn’t want you to get cold. 
“Come on, I thought I was your favourite hero. Damian told me so”, a cheeky Cheshire grin spread on his lips as he turned to you, his index finger tapping the side of his nose to indicate that he knew more than he let on. 
“You’re Robin?” You questioned, unsure of your assumption. Somehow he looked different close up than far away, more human and way more similar to Damian than had ever occurred to you previously. The young man staggered closer to you, arms outstretched, as he bowed deeply before your feet, “In the flesh”. His steps seemed calculated yet something felt off and you almost wondered if he was drunk, although, if he were, he was covering it up well. 
As he stood bowed like a theatre actor in front of you, he slowly raised his mask-clad face, a cocky smile clear as he smoothly bowed his left leg, letting one knee hit the floor and his arms dangle by his side. Once sitting on the floor, he gently grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips, stopping just before they met your skin. “May I?” He requested, mask-covered eyes glancing up at you. Your breath was caught in your throat and Damian realised how long he had yearned to do something like this. He was sure that you didn’t like his civilian persona romantically in the slightest, he was purposefully rude to you for crying out loud! But something about having the knowledge that you had a crush on Robin, and the effect of whatever it was he had gotten thrown in his face earlier, made it easier for him to act out all the things he had wanted to do with you for so long. 
Looking down at him with a shy demeanour, you nodded apprehensively. If it hadn’t been for the quality of the man’s costume, you weren’t sure if you’d have believed him to be the actual Robin. As soon as he saw your accepting gesture, Damian’s lips connected with the back of your hand as he folded the other arm behind him, looking like a prince from a fairytale.
The flirtations of Robin continued throughout the entire night as he let himself go emotionally, whatever he had been given slowly wearing off, which allowed him to properly enjoy your company, unhindered by his usual need to keep up a grumpy façade. You clearly enjoyed it too, although you’d sometimes cast guilty glances at the floor when Robin leaned in too close. 
Damian realised that this was probably some type of wish fulfilment for you and you might’ve felt bad for enjoying it, but really you shouldn’t, he concluded. You had nothing to feel bad about because this was wish fulfilment for Damian too. 
At one point, Robin took your phone, demanding that you unlock it. Technically he could’ve done it himself, you had told Damian the password, but if he had to keep up the story of ‘Damian’ having sent him… well, he couldn’t very well show to you that he knew your phone’s code. After you followed Robin’s command without a complaint, you handed the device back to him. Damian knew that loud noises were prohibited after eight at your dorm, but he also didn’t care, if anyone complained, he’d use his role as Robin to thwart them away, claiming that it somehow held a tactical advantage for his justice fighting. They were all idiots anyways, how would they know? 
Turning on an old and slow 60’s song like ‘Put your head on my shoulder’, ‘Can’t take my eyes off you’ or ‘Everybody loves somebody’, before offering you a hand, Damian felt as if he was on cloud nine. “Dance with me, beloved”. Your clear nervousness was so apparent, it almost felt like he was torturing you. Yet, you accepted the outstretched hand, getting pulled into the dark-haired man’s chest. As he slowly guided you around in a slow dance, one hand holding yours tightly, the other laying comfortably at the curve of your spine, it occurred to you how his accent was incredibly similar to Damian’s. A brief thought that the two might be the same was interrupted as the mask-clad man carefully picked up your chin, moving it towards his face, once again, stopping right before the two of you made contact. “May I, my dear?” A silent nod of your head was all Robin needed as he laid his lips heavily upon yours, moving slowly. Damian felt as if his mind was blown, he had dreamed of this moment for weeks, afraid that it might never happen or that he would be disappointed if it did, he was a Wayne after all, you certainly wouldn’t be the first person he’d kissed… but now? Now, that he finally experienced it. His mind was blown, and the tips of his long fingers trembled as they held the bottom of your face. He felt as if his body had been zapped from all the pain and suffering he had experienced throughout the years, a sense of being lighter than the wind engulfed him as he pressed you closer to him. Why had he held out so long, when he could’ve done this weeks, if not months, ago?!
When he left that night, he pressed another kiss to your lips and promised to return soon, which he did. As a matter of fact, you started to receive regular visits from the masked vigilante, an activity which almost lasted until your end-of-year break. Robin would drop by for an hour or two after patrol. With four or five knocks, he’d get you to open the window for him, before slinging himself into your room and greeting you with a kiss. You had at one point left the window agape, so that he wouldn’t have to knock, but he had scolded you for getting yourself cold, with the freezing winds finding the space of your room a cosy place to fill.  
You never informed your friends of your secret visitor. You did quietly, yet clearly embarrassed, thank Damian for sending the sidekick your way, to which he simply smacked the back of your head gently, saying something along the lines of, “Well, you’re too much of a wuss to ever go up to him yourself, and I coincidentally met him at a Wayne enterprise meeting. Thought, why not? It didn’t really mean anything to me.” Despite his words, behind his act, Damian wore the smuggest of grins. You were adorable as you stood there, smiling awkwardly, clearly hiding the fact that you and ‘Robin’ had done a little more than just take photos and get an autograph. 
When Robin was with you, he’d flirt and otherwise apply his charisma to get closer to you, and you’d slowly open up to him, telling him about your interests, your hobbies and your friends… Notable among your descriptions was Damian’s. Yeah, it was a little awkward for the man, sitting there, listening to you explain how ‘Damian’ was probably the coolest person in the world, how he was admittedly the rudest man you’d ever met, but that it held a certain charm to it… His blush would’ve been unmistakable had his mask not covered the top part of his face.
Still, even with the reassurance that you didn’t despise his civilian persona, he was afraid of dropping the mask. You had obviously not told his vigilante-self that you held a crush on his civilian one, which simply confirmed his fears that you definitely didn’t hold any romantic feelings towards the Damian you knew. So, for the time being, he’d keep that secret to himself. He enjoyed your company and the romance between you too much to ruin it for either of you… 
Robin pretty much snogging you became a pretty regular occurrence as well, which, while you definitely enjoyed it, made you feel a weird sense of guilt build up in your stomach. You definitely had a crush on Robin, how could you not? However, your crush on Damian was a hundred times larger, and every time Robin exclaimed that you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, you’d imagine that the words were stumbling from Damian’s plump lips. It not only felt wrong for you to enjoy the attention of the vigilante due to some misplaced sense of loyalty towards Damian, but it also felt as if you were doing an injustice to Robin, who came to you almost every night, proclaiming his deep affections for you, while you were thinking of another man… It felt so cruel… Not downright evil, but certainly mean-spirited and discomforting. 
 One night you decided that enough was enough. You could no longer pretend that you only cherished Robin, when clearly it was Damian you yearned for, no matter how out of your league he was and even though you were definitely not going to confess to your friend. It was borderline malignant to string the traffic-light-themed hero along. 
Damian had dropped in, like always, only to find your eyes focused on the ground, refusing to meet his gaze, even as he crouched down in front of you and grabbed your hands tightly in his. “What’s wrong?” He asked, confused and more than a little concerned. 
“I have something to tell you”, with those words you sent the man spiralling. A thousand horrible possibilities filled his head. “Were you hurt?”, “Did you actually fall for Jon?”, “Did you do something illegal?”, “Were you-?”... No, he had been careful, that couldn’t be it… In less than a second, he had gone through a long checklist of possibilities, could it be this or that? Certain things were ruled out, others were brought in and he could feel his head start to ache. 
“We can’t- I can’t… You shouldn’t come here anymore, it’s not fair to you.” With those words, Damian’s heart plummeted. What had he done wrong? Had you found out about his secret identity? Had he hurt you? Were you just no longer attracted to his vigilante persona?
 “Why?” It was a quiet whisper that passed his lips, so clearly filled with heartbreak that it almost brought tears to your eyes, yet you knew you were doing the right thing… “I’m in love with someone else”. Jon’s smiling face pooped into Damian’s head. Of course… It was bound to happen, the half-alien held a golden retriever-like charm that Damian couldn’t even begin to emulate… He was so sure that it had to be his best friend who stole the love of his life, yet, even though he knew it’d hurt him, he had to be sure that it was indeed Jon… Just before he would lace the blue-eyed man’s breakfast with kryptonite… just kidding, or maybe not… I digress. As he waited for your response with bated breath, you teased the answer, “It’s someone you know, or have at least spoken to-”. Superboy, Robin nodded, so convinced that you and Jon had something, an unspeakable chemistry that he couldn’t even inspire to gain. 
“-It’s Damian. Damian Wayne. The guy who sent you here in the first place, and the one I told you about. I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to end like this. But, it was unfair to string you along-”, you spluttered, feeling as if your stomach was being ripped out as you saw the dejected look on Robin’s face. The dark-haired man, however, felt shocked. You wanted Damian?! You wanted him?! The real him, not just the vigilante persona he adopted around you… His shock gave way to ecstasy as he embraced you and crashed his lips into yours. You stood still, afraid of what the hero was planning on doing to you for breaking his heart, when suddenly. “ حمار/Himar”, something about that phrase seemed to make a revelation clear for you. Even if you didn’t believe your own mind at first, there was no denying reality as Damian ripped off his mask, revealing what you had suspected. “Guess you couldn’t get enough of me, huh? Crushing on both of my alter egos, if that’s not dedication, I don’t know what is”, the green-eyed man teased you with an almost mocking smirk, one which you were used to seeing on Damian’s feature, but which almost seemed misplaced on Robin… You weren’t complaining though, it looked good on him… better than it should have.
Needless to say, the two of you started dating after that, for real this time. He let you in on his vigilante life and introduced you to his brothers…. Both by their real names and their hero names. Richard greeted you with open arms, he was simply happy for his brother, adoring how cute he found the two of you together. Jason didn’t care much but found you a much better alternative to what he had feared the demon spawn would’ve brought home.  Bruce and Tim were nervous though, now that you knew all of their identities, you put them in a position of danger… What if you revealed that information to the press? They’d be done for. Tim would most definitely make you sign an NDA, (Non-disclosure agreement), whereas Bruce might actually make you sign a contract stating that you will marry Damian after university… Just to keep you close to the family in the unlikely case that you’re actually working for a rogue. You will be met with a healthy amount of scepticism from both Bruce and Tim for the first many years, both would’ve preferred if Damian had gotten together with a vigilante, but as the years go by, they slowly warm up to you, Tim quicker than Bruce, especially if you share an interest like chess, video gaming or programming. So in short? Tsundere Damian is practically just normal Damian without a stop button.
A/N: Yes, you can just ignore this, it's mostly for the user who sent in the request.
Thank you for this idea! I hope you like what I did with it! I personally feel like Damian is pretty much always a tsundere, but I tried to exaggerate it here, which I hope came through, lol!
Also for everyone else who might've been wondering where I've been for the past few weeks, do not worry, I'm not stopping my writing! I simply have a bunch of essays, which I've had to write as of late... The woes of an IB high school student... I'll have my Christmas break from the 23rd of Dec. - the 2nd of Jan., so I'll probably be able to write some more during that period!
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