Just a teacher leading his students to be the new generation of sorcerers ✨
Your Straight Venomous series brought joy to my shriveled little heart. 💖 If you are taking requests could you please do something with bat fam about how they would navigate finding out the grumpy coroner who helps them on cases, and they pine over is a vampire (wears sunglasses constantly, always hangry, routinely dents drywall, drinks weird red smoothies) and they have to help the poor dear overcome her beastly nature and only they can help her yadda delusional but well intentioned yadda
A/N: Okay so happy to hear you’re enjoying my work thank you so so much for your comments 😭❤️ Tw//blood, dead bodies mentioned, canon typical violence, I hope you enjoy this was so fun to Write!! Aged up Damian as always
So big bad Bruce is the first of our yans to fall and it has a lot to do with your mysterious/grumpy nature
He see’s himself in you a bit, with all the brooding and the solitude
You had a reputation amongst the medical community, poor attitude, never socializing, but your knowledge on the subject of death was unmatched so he sought you out one day
Most people try to butter up the dark knight but not you, you treated him as any other, if not an occasional nuisance, which only deepened his ever growing interest
It isn’t easy to distract a man like Bruce, but you did. He spends a lot of time trying to figure you out, sure he’s met people unaffected by death and dead bodies before but you’re on a different level
You haul cadavers around like it’s nothing, discus decay and rot like it’s the weather, and he could have sworn he’s seen you bend a scalpel in a moment of frustration.
Soon Dick hears about you and just has to check you out, it wasn’t often Bruce spoke of “work friends” so you had to be something special right? First time he stops by is just for an introduction but he ends up to enamored with your cool collected vibe he stays until your shifts up
Dickie boy has no idea something’s up with you beside the fact that your snark and demeanor got him kicking his feet at the thought of ya, reminds you of a gnat in the way he’s always around. He tried to play it off as work in the beginning but eventually dropped the charade to hang out, he starts bringing you lunch
He’s looks so heartbroken when you don’t eat and as annoying as he is you indulge him with a few sips of coffee now and then, if only to get that kicked puppy look off his face. He’d always ask you what you wanted to eat and each time you’d give him a shrug muttering something about a strict diet
When he finds out he goes from offering take out to offering himself, comically draping his body across the cold table, his fingers teasing across his veins, his face would be like ‘😏’ the whole time
He asks Tim to give him access to the cameras in your workspace, just trying to see who he’s working with he says(yeah right)
Easily enough Tim has access to you at anytime and it starts off as a pure curiosity thing, then he finds himself watching you during his free time, fascinated with your peculiar habits, growing more and more frustrated, because all too quickly the screen wasn’t enough, he needed to be in the room
It comes to a head for dear Timmy when he sees you take Dick up on one of his many offers, your mouth latched to his wrist and despite the grainy footage, he could see the enjoyment on Dick’s face. Definitely breaks the mug he was holding because why does he get to have all the fun?
The whole undead thing doesn’t phase him nearly as much as you feeding on his predecessor, and not for the reasons you’d think like he’s up and down jealous
Introduces himself officially to you not long after, out of everyone he’s the person with the same sleep schedule as you, leaving ample room for late night bonding but unlike them he doesn’t bother with the ‘I’m here for work thing’ he befriends you as Red Robin and as soon as he can he’s confessing his identity, hoping his baring of the soul will lead to your own
Sure he already knows everything but he wants to hear it from your mouth🥺
Bruce confronts you one day, having long since put the pieces together, stresses the idea that you’re safe with him and how he’s on your side, that he’d help you in anyway as long as you weren’t running around killing folks, the blood drinking does cause him unease only because if anyone else caught on he’s sure you’d be targeted.
Your assurance doesn’t do much to quell his anxieties, because yes you know what you’re talking about, it didn’t take him long to discover your nature, so who’s to say no one else will?
Is adamant in you not killing, when you explain that you source your food from your job he unclenches a bit, but not much
He won’t be satisfied until you’re living at the manor where he can keep a watchful eye on you but you don’t need to know that until he has your room ready
In the midst of all this Jason stumbles into your life quite literally. You found him in an alleyway drawn to the thick sent of blood in the air, he was leaned against the trash, his helmet still on, and with a sigh you hauled him over your shoulder and brought him to work
It took a few sips of your blood for his body to start to mend and he awoke soon after. You weren’t worried about him turning since he’d need to die immediately after consuming it but I digress
You were the last thing he seen before he knocked out, and the first thing he seen waking up, you hit him with a “Glad you’re not dead now beat it.” and a small smirk and the man was a goner
He tries to repay you in many ways, one by not being nosey but come on could you blame him? Not only did you lift him like he was nothing but his wounds were completely gone, he figured you were just a meta with healing abilities and that was good enough for him
Another way is he appoints himself your personal bodyguard, at first watching from a distance, just making sure his guardian angel was safe, and then he seen Bruce leaving your office one night and positively looses it
How dare he try to creep up on the best thing in Jason’s world??😡 you were his Angel(like bae you’re the one late to the party but go off ig)
He storms in about to demand how you know the old bastard and warn you about him only to see you necking the fuck out a blood bag, I’m talking fangs out eyes glowing, you should have been terrifying but he has stars in his eyes
You’re exhausted at this point just dying to go home and sleep it all off when in storms Red (in all his excitement he forgot to introduce himself so it’s his name in your head) and just when you think you’re gonna have to eat a vigilante he’s throwing off his helmet and lecturing you about “Fuckin’ around with that old man” and how you were bound to be caught and how he’d have you thrown in Arkham for your nature and-
You tuned him out, slowing blinking at the man, because to you this was your second meeting, and he sounded genuinely concerned about your well-being, you chocked it up to saving him and brushed all his worries off with a shrug
“I think I can handle the Bat Red.”
His lil heart went boom at the nickname and he’s in full on question mode
“How often do you uh, eat?” As often as I want “Do you burn in the sun?” No but it is uncomfortable “Do you want some of me?” Uh sure
And just like that you have three people practically begging to be your food, sure having this many people know your secret was dangerous but you had a feeling they weren’t about to rat you out
Damian is our last domino to fall and it’s entirely Bruce’s fault.
He tried and succeeded for a while, at keeping you away from Damian, not because he didn’t trust you, but he knew his son well enough to know he’d see you as the threat you were.
Bruce knew Damian wouldn’t trust you and may even expose you, so he kept it on the low.
But one cannot simply hide something from the Damian Wayne
He knows something’s up with his family and he intends to get to the bottom of it.
He’s overheard his father and Alfred making plans to build something, some sort of containment room, he’s seen the hearts in Grayson’s eyes when he spoke of his ‘new friend’ when Tim was around his eyes were glued to his phone, torn between watching something and eagerly texting someone Jason had stopped coming around the manor, granted he wasn’t there a lot but to ghost them like that? Something was up
He manages to tail his father one night, blending in seamlessly with the shadows, lurking like the goblin he is, only to be disappointed
You were just some coroner. A random citizen with nothing of note on your record. You were utterly normal and he left with more questions than answers. Is all but ready to abandon this investigation until he spots Grayson sliding in through one of the windows
And Drake showing up at 2 in the morning out of costume
And Todd walking you home.
He knew he needed to find an opening to size you up in person but damn was it hard with someone at your side constantly. He was surprised they hadn’t run into one another considering they didn’t go a day without visiting.
And as if the heavens were listening his father was called away for league business, Grayson was reluctantly pulled to Bludhaven, Drake was watching one half of Gotham while Damian was entrusted the other, and Todd was nowhere to be seen.
Almost like the city knew the Knight was out of town, all the crazies were out and about, he’d been working his way through the streets, calling in a few arrest here and there before finding himself at your office.
You lift your head at him surprised at his entrance but also having met the rest, you figured he’d find his way to you one way or another.
“You’re that Robin guy right? What do you want.” You sighed out sure he was here for a case.
He glared at you through his mask, his hands firm at his side as he strode to the reception desk you sat behind.
“Here on official business. I have questions and demand answers. It’s in your best interest to comply.”
“Oh you demand them?” You laughed “Okay I’m in a good mood, what can I do for ya.” The way you were absolutely unbothered got under his skin fast but before he could start his interrogation the chaos from outside spilled in the room in the form of three armed idiots in ski mask’s.
The threat on the man’s lips died out as he stared at the brooding man before him. His eyes widened but he cleared his throat
“Nobody do nothin’ stupid, we just want the money and everybody gets to go home nice and alive.” You shared a look with Robin as if to say ‘are these mf’s serious’ before the man was pointing his gun at you
You couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. “Dude we don’t even have a register in here, why hit a morgue of all places?” A genuine smile found its way to your face as you hoped over the counter, only being stopped by the arm suddenly thrown across your chest.
“We were in the middle of a conversation, so I’ll make this quick. You stay back.” He left no room for arguments and no sooner than the words left his lips was he disarming the first man, definitely breaking his nose as he easily disassembled the weapon. The other two looked at each other before taking aim
Damian turned to take cover and throw you back behind the table only to find you missing, the first shot rang out just barely missing him, the second definitely hit something but it wasn’t him, through the smoke and rubble of what used to be your desk he could make out the screams of the assailants, only for them to be cut short.
Leaping up from his crouched position he took in the sight of you dropping one of them, the body sliding down the wall left a trail of red behind it, the remaining man was slumped at your feet, his expression twisted permanently into a scream. His brows furrowed
now he was sure something was wrong with you but underneath that and the bitterness of taking his chance to show off, was gratitude, you’d taken a shot for him- holy shit you took a shot for him.
The only evidence of this was the bloodied hole in the side of your shirt, he watched you crack your neck before leaning down with a groan, your glasses had been destroyed in the little scuffle much to your annoyance.
“Okay so where were we? You had some questions right?” You’d say nonchalantly picking up both bodies and making your way down into the morgue. And despite his instincts he’d follow you down, more curious than ever.
You’d answer every question he had with honesty, unashamed of your nature, and happy to share your thoughts and feelings as his questions never seemed to stop.
From that day forward he’d begrudgingly pop in to see you, telling you he was only there to make sure you didn’t lose it one day, and if you did he’d be the one to put you down, but you both knew he wanted to be there
Is both disgusted and disappointed you haven’t asked him to feed like,,, yuck he’d never but also how dare you not ask he knows he’d taste good 😡
Don’t ever let him find out you feed on the others as he will pitch a full blown man-fit
Once they realize they’re all pining after the same dark creature it’s pure anarchy at first, then Bruce makes the wise suggestion that you’re safer with them all working together rather than separate and sorry babes but you’re d o n e
You only ever get your food from one of them, they refuse to let you kill(not that you were out here doing it🙄) and take shifts accompanying you, bidding their time until it’s safe to take you home
premise: you have seven sugar daddies: one for every day of the week. a bit overwhelming, right? however, you somehow find ways to make time for each and every one of them, no matter how emotionally and physically demanding they are. it's just that, now they don't seem too keen on sharing, and you don't know what to do. (modern au)
tw: nsfw, dark content - minors dni
mondays are always harder in more ways than one. mondays are diluc's days, and that means that you're spending a good portion of your nights at angel's share.
on mondays, it's happy hour. which means that you're sitting at a booth in the corner looking pretty while diluc is tending to his customers. you're more than happy to sit back and relax while you wait for him to finish with work. when the drinks are on the house, you're willing to wait as long as it'll take.
periodically, when he's not busy, however, he'll walk over to you and engage in conversation. you act as a taste-tester for new drinks so he's always asking you if you like them. you two will talk about your day, any interesting events, and so on until diluc is pulled back into work again.
then you're back to fiddling your fingers and watching him work. over time, you've learned that he preferred that you not do anything while you were supposed to be with him. that instead, you fixated your gaze on him while he moved about. sometimes you'll catch him looking at you to see if your eyes are still on him.
even while he's dealing with a certain tone-deaf bard, there's something about the way he looks at you so intently that reminds you of a predator.
when angel's share closes, you're there to keep him company while he cleans up. when he's done, he'll sweep you away back to his manor.
you'll fall onto the sheets as he grinds against you. his shallow breaths brush against your throat. the look he gives you is nothing short of intense.
"everyone at the tavern was looking at you, you know," he mutters, running his fingers down your chest, sinking into your pants. he pulls them down effortlessly along with your panties. "didn't you feel it, darling? their filthy eyes on you. they want to ruin you. everyone wants to ruin you."
he throws your legs over his shoulders, his fingers crawling up your thighs. you jump when he suddenly inserts two fingers into your cunt, scissoring you. his free arm wraps around your leg to keep you locked against him. his eyes are glued onto you as he presses a kiss against your calf.
"but your eyes were on me all night, weren't they. couldn't take your eyes off me, could you. you're mine, dear. do you hear me? you're mine."
you don't overlook how tight his grip is. tight enough to make you wonder if he'll ever let you go. in the morning, he does, but you're scared for the day he wakes up and decides that it's for the last time.
tuesdays aren't as bad. when you’re sore from the night before, childe is there to take you out to meals, shopping, and sightseeing. he's not always available to spend time with you on tuesdays, because of his equally-demanding job and whatnot, but when he is free, he never wastes a second.
or a dollar.
childe smirks smugly from his sea. his posture is lax, one hand lazily tracing circles on the chair's arm while the other comes up to rest under his chin.
"how about you twirl for me, girlie? you look so beautiful."
you giggle, observing yourself in the mirror. "why thank you."
you bask in the way the soft satin kisses your skin. the way your newly-own earrings sparkle under the dressing room's light. just a couple years ago, you could've only dreamed of being dressed so prettily.
"do your side-bitches ever treat you as well as me?"
"childe!" you chide.
he laughs, getting up from his seat. but you both know better than to believe his little chuckle is genuine.
he approaches you, sliding his hands around your waist. tucking your head under his chin, he stares at you through the mirror's reflection.
you don't say anything, and childe doesn't either. it appears he's more than happy to enjoy just standing there. his gaze is glossed over, far away.
the two of you sway side to side for what seems like forever until he decides to say something.
"do they buy you pretty things like i do?"
of course they do, you think. although you spend one-on-one time with each and every one of them, they are all aware of each other. it's only right that they did. it was the first thing you said when you brought the idea up to them, that it wasn't going to be exclusive.
but when you see the way he looks at you, you can't really tell him the truth. not when his focus is redirected from his thoughts to you.
"the things you buy me are a special kind of pretty," you reply.
it seems like that answer is enough for him, because he doesn't say anything else. instead he hums quietly, letting the vibration ripple in the back of your head. he slides his hands down your hips and before you can say anything else, he whips his head around.
"i'll buy these sets." he motions over to the closest clothes rack to an attendant you hadn't noticed. "and that one. and the dress she's wearing. how many colors does this come in, by the way?"
the attendant doesn't hesitate. "five colors, sir. they come in bla—"
"great." he shuffles through his pocket to pull out a black card. "pack them up, we won't be here any longer," he retorts.
the attendant looks ecstatic, quickly shuffling out of the dressing rooms towards the cash register with newfound glee.
"childe," you whine. "i don't think these will fit in my closet."
his hands crawl lower, his finger hovering over your clit. "then they'll fit in mine. come over any time of the week when you want to wear one of my special pretty things."
your breath hitches as he rubs slow circles on your clit. he pushes the two of you back into the dressing room and closes the curtains.
"what are you doing, she'll be back any second—"
he kisses the corner of your jaw, pressing his lips close to your ear. "no worries. if there's one thing i'm sure about, it's that no one undresses you faster than i do."
wednesday is when usually everything calms down. kazuha will typically invite you to a new park, scenic route, or gallery. together, you'll write haikus, sonnets, and limericks together. some hours you'll just sit in silence, putting pen to paper. and when the sun goes down you'll exchange poetry.
out of the seven men, kazuha probably scares you the most. he was the first person you decided to do this whole ordeal with, after all. and since he's known you the longest, he also knows about your circumstances more than others. maybe that's why he's so focused on treating you as if you were a fragile cherry blossom petal. his touches feel like ghosts, running down your forearm as he presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek.
in exchange for his protection, his money, and his care, you give him honeyed words. you act as his muse for when he's hit a creative block. you're there to listen to him read out verses when the wind can't bear the strength to carry them. you listen to his grief about his best friend, his loneliness when he was forced to leave his home country. as someone many of the locals looked to for wisdom, he too carried the emotional burdens of being someone's rock. emotional burdens that he let onto you (whether purposefully or not, you're unsure). but you listen anyway, hearing him talk about days of poverty, where sometimes he had to worry about things to eat, or how to get proper healthcare.
you can't lie and say you're always stable enough to hear some of the things he has to say, but you try.
even if you sometimes feel like you can't take it, you just smile and squeeze his hand tighter like you're supposed to. sometimes your mind will go on autopilot, and sometimes you'll stand up on the grounds of needing to go to the bathroom. but at the end of the day, this is what you signed up for. this. making men happy so that you yourself won't have to worry about your endless debt.
you peer over your notebook to see kazuha immersed in his own writing. but instead of his usual peaceful expression, he looks somber. his hands won't leave the paper, his eyes glued onto the words that he's drawn onto the pages.
"what's got you so worked up?" you ask curiously. "is it something new?"
it's like your voice snaps him out of his trance. he blinks, looking up at you. there's a smile you know all too well on his lips. "yeah, i suppose you could call it that."
"could i look at it? i want to see what's got you so focused like that."
his lips press into a straight line. "hmmm, maybe later."
his words catch you off-guard. usually he's the one who's eager to share his work, regardless of the quality. "oh? is it something you want to keep secret?"
he doesn't many any hint of an answer. instead, he puts down his pen and stares at the ground in contemplation. he's picking and choosing what words to say.
"i could protect you," he says, shuffling his papers to the side. you turn to him, curious. his expression slowly hardens. "by myself, i mean. i could take care of you."
"kazu—"
"i have the means to make a living for the both of us. i could sell more of my poetry, i know they'll sell well—"
"where is this coming from?" you move closer to him, brushing his hair aside. "kazu, are you worried about something?"
there's something that's stopping him from saying anything. his fingers intertwine with yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.
he purses his lips, before turning away and sighing. "no, not really."
after that, he doesn't say anything else. the two of you bask in silence once again. even though you're used to the quiet, there's something deep down in you that feels nervous. like something in the atmosphere changed. there's a sudden resolved glint in his eye as he get backs to writing so diligently on a piece of paper he won't let you read.
after all these days spent talking about himself, somehow you're scared for the day he suddenly decides to stop.
on thursdays you're usually at tighnari's greenhouse, watching him take notes of other plants while you twiddle your thumbs. once in a while, he'll begin rambling about the plants—what kind of species they are, how rare, their medicinal properties, and the like.
you're more of a companion, than anything. someone who can make his days a little less lonelier. and you appreciate it. it's much more tranquil with him. you can enjoy his sharp quips, especially when cyno comes to visit.
his sex-drive is relatively normal, if not a little below average. just like wednesday, you also expect thursday to be a typical rest day.
except when spring comes.
when spring comes, your routine get a little wonky. for one week, at least. because that's when tighnari's heat hits him like a fucking monsoon.
you can already tell when it's coming when he begins to hover closer to you. whenever you take your hand out to do anything, even the slightest gesture, he's already taking it and dragging it towards his sensitive ears.
the moment you've made your plans set to 'take the week off' and help him out, he's already on you, face pressed into your neck as if it's his oasis.
as you can tell, he takes this week very seriously.
"i bet—shit—those other fucks don't get to hold you as long as i do," he lets out as he fucks into you like there's no tomorrow. his hands hold onto your waist like he owns it, pressing sloppy kisses down your spine. "looking so pretty for me. i wonder what they'd say if you got pregnant with my babies. you'd be so much more beautiful plump with my kids. is that what you want huh? to make them angry with my cum stuffed in your gorgeous pussy?"
some days you almost can't believe how uncharacteristically aggressive he is. he dicks you down like he's trying to imprint his shape into the core of your body so that none of the others can fit inside.
and when he cums, he'll take whatever unfortunate portions slip out and smear it all over your chest. especially where your heart is.
then the process starts all over again.
when it's over, he'll spoon you. as if he didn't almost fuck you to death. his touch is tender, like a ghost's hovering over your skin.
"why won't you leave them all for me?"
you shift a little to look at him and kiss him softy, sweetly, on the line of his jaw. "oh, nari, you know i can't."
his ears droop at your words. "you can't, or you won't."
his words make you freeze a bit.
you think back to last week, and the week before, and the one before that. you think about why you started selling your services in the first place, the endless debt you used to be in, and the progression of the relationship between all seven of your...contacts. even if you wanted to, you don't think you could back out if you tried. you've dug a hole for yourself. one deep enough to cause some sort of disruption if you ever decided to stop digging.
so you just hum. "you know how much i love routine."
as some sort of apology, you give him and open-mouthed kiss, one he's almost desperate to return. he moans, hands cupping your face to bring you closer to him.
you're well unaware how much your words have an impact him.
at the end of the week, all al-haitham wants to do is unwind. it's the only logical thing to do. no late-night drinks with the colleagues, no stressful trips to some tourist trap. on fridays, al-haitham comes home to a meal made with love.
when al-haitham's at work during the day, you're usually running your actual errands. it's when you have time to make those one-in-a-blue-moon visits to your actual home, although it's getting harder to call it that.
when it gets to the late-afternoon, you'll usually head to al-haitham's place to start cooking. if you didn't know how to cook before, you do now. every ingredient is handled with care, measured meticulously just as you knew he preferred.
and when he gets home, tired and stressed out, you're there to welcome him with a chaste kiss on the cheek.
during dinner, sometimes he'll talk to you about work or the latest research he'd gotten himself immersed with. in return, you tell him about some of your childhood memories. your likes, your dislikes, what used to be your hobbies. you do your best to keep your personal matters out of the conversation, no matter how many times he tries to pry into your private life.
sometimes dinners feel like a full on investigation, the way he keeps greeding for more information about you. he watches you eat with calculating eyes. you pretend to pay no mind to it.
in the beginning, kaveh used to join you for dinners. you always liked the guy, the way he bickered with al-haitham and riled him up. but now you've begun to see less of him, as if he never comes home on fridays at all.
after dinner, there are two different outcomes depending on his mood:
outcome one is that you'll spend the rest of the night curling up on his couch, the both of you immersed in your own books. al-haitham leans on your shoulder as he flips through the pages as if they're nothing. you can't help but feel ticklish whenever his hair brushes against your jaw.
somewhere in the middle, he'll move one hand to start fidgeting with the end of your shirt, sometimes crawling underneath to caress your sides.
outcome two is less quiet. the moment he gets home with that solemn face, you know it's coming. his voice is huskier, his responses shorter. it's usually a result of an impending deadline, colleagues being more peskier than usual.
the moment you two are done with dishes, he gingerly takes your hand and leads you up to the bedroom.
his kisses tastes like green tea and dinner. his hands run up and down your torso, trying to imprint the feel of your skin into every inch of your brain. you whimper when his thumbs press softly into your nipples, rolling them around as they harden.
your hands find purchase on his collar, tugging him impossibly close. he groans at the contact.
you let out a yelp when your back suddenly falls onto the bed. your hands are pressed onto the sheets, al-haitham's fingers encircling your wrists. his knee nudges your legs further apart, rubbing at your clit.
"don't look at the ceiling, dear, look at me," he breathes out, his hands leaving your nipples to gently guide your face towards. "that's it. good girl. just me. just look at me. only me."
he smiles.
"now, let me do god's work on your divine body."
saturdays with ayato can sometimes get hectic. some saturdays you're out getting bubble tea together and enjoying the city, and other saturdays you're hurrying to some publicitiy event hosted by the kamisato clan.
on those type of days, you can expect to wear gowns layered with shiny nylon tulle fabric. it's not as revealing as what you'd try on in dressing rooms with childe. in fact, it's a bit more modest.
today you're wearing a light-blue gown to match with ayato. you turn around to get a good look at the cute bow attached at your waist, your diamond encrusted earrings swaying along with you.
it's as if you've put on another costume. another front to wear for the night.
ayato enters the room just shortly after. in his hands is a diamond necklace to match with your stunning earrings. small smile falls upon his lips when he clasps it on.
"you're beautiful," he mumbles. you giggle when he kisses you square on the lips, licking away the tinted color.
"ayato," you press in-between kisses. you place a hand on his chest to gently push him away. "you're going to ruin my lipstick."
he pulls away with a cheeky smile, taking your wrists to wrap around his neck. "you can always put on some more later."
you pout but kiss him regardless. he tightens his hold on you in reaction, moaning into your mouth.
at these kinds of events, you're there as his plus-one. just so that other officials could stop introducing girls to him when he clearly wasn't interested in them. it'd be arguable to say that you might even be there to make the events a little less intolerable.
somewhere along the lines, you'd sleep with him in addition to being his arm candy at parties. sometimes even before: you two rushing to put on your formal attires and fix your hair minutes before the event started.
but beyond that, you started to get to know him better. he'd whisper into your ear about funny stories relating to the guests as you meet them. sometimes you'd run away in the middle of the party to binge out on the food and talk about your other interests. surprisingly, he doesn't talk about the politics behind his duties as the head of the kamisato family. not as much as you expected, at least.
instead he talks about his dreams for a family. how many kids, what their names would be, how he'd raise them. and as he talked, he'd give you this heavy gaze that you're not sure what to do with. as if he was expecting something from you.
you're beginning to believe that ayato has somehow confused contractual girlfriend with actual girlfriend.
when you had met ayaka months ago, ayato introduced you as his girlfriend. you didn't attempt to correct him—that's ayato's business. not your's. but when you're expecting ayato to come clean to his dearest sister, you're sorely mistaken.
instead, while he kisses your lips so hungrily, he subtly slips a diamond ring onto your finger.
sundays are usually kaeya's days off. although the cavalry captain's duties are seemingly never endless, he takes the day off to take a breather.
in other words, he sees you.
at first, it was just candlelit dinners. he'd walk in with a bouquet of roses, complimenting your dress and staring at you as if he was undressing you with his eyes. he'd take you to somewhere fancy, pull out the chair for you and sweet-talk you all through the night.
conversations were fun with him. you didn't have to think much at all, not about how to pay the bills, the six men in your life who seemingly began to want yours to only revolve around theirs, or being someone your not.
kaeya was probably the only one who you felt you could be comfortable with. he made you laugh, he'd tell all sorts of interesting stories, and he never made the silence feel awkward.
at least, that's how you used to be.
you see, usually after these candlelit dinners you'd both go back to his place, with him ripping off your clothes the moment the door closed. but as of recently, he's been asking to come over to your place instead more often. almost too often.
and that's not the only thing that's changed.
the sex used to be rough. heated. almost as if he was consumed by all of his pent-up sexual frustration and was only focused on getting off. he'd slurp your cunt like a man starved but he'd still rail you as if that's the only thing he cared about.
but as time passed, he's been getting more and more...sensual. the sex is much more slower. personal, almost.
vulnerable.
after dinner, he slowly slips off your clothing. one article after another, until your left in your underwear. he first kisses you on the mouth, then your neck, then your chest, then your stomach. slowly, he makes a trail of them down your body, as if no skin deserved to be left untouched.
although you made a rule that no one could leave your marks on you, it doesn't mean he doesn't try. as he kisses your lower lips, sometimes he'll attempt to leave marks close to your clit. if you're not careful, diluc will find it tomorrow.
his thrusts were always deep, but now that he's much more purposeful about it. it's rhythmic, as if he's trying to reach a new spot inside you. somewhere no one's touched.
the pillow-talks are much more longer as well. he holds you tighter now, wrapping his arms around your hips as he tangles his legs with yours.
instead of ranting on about the silly incidents he witnessed on the job earlier in the week, he talks about his feelings. towards you. towards diluc. towards himself. some nights you can handle it, some nights are too much.
but you can't say anything. not when he's holding onto you like you’re his lifeline. not when he helps you pay off your debt. and so you let his raspy voice whisper in your ear as he combs his fingers through your hair. you listen to him mumble sweet-nothings.
you're not sure if you like the adoring look he gives you as you drift off to sleep.
I live for The Great Seven™ gossiping about NRC x MC like teenagers and having their own ship wars with each other
Queen of Hearts: *to the King of Hearts* Riddle and MC are so cute together. They must invite me to their wedding.
Jafar: Their wedding?! I assure you that nothing of the sort will happen. Why only yesterday, MC had praised Jamil on his progress in sorcery. They're only one carpet ride away from their inevitable romance.
Hades: Jaffy, babe, have you not seem how close MC is with my man, Idia. Sure he never gets out but Ortho sees them as a big sibling and they always spend time together in his bedroom. *mutters* Now all he needs are a few pomegranate seeds and-
Scar: Leona's scent is all over them. No one else has a chance against a lion.
Ursula: You should've seen how enchanted MC was when they went swimming with Azul in his merform. You lot underestimate the power of body language tentacles and a well written contract.
Evil Queen: None of those boys are even remotely worthy of breathing the same air as MC. Why would they settle for a ghastly fixer-upper when they can have the most beautiful man of all. Vil is a much better match.
Mistress of All Evil/World's Best Grandma: I'll have you fools know that my grandson has been courting MC since the day they met. Don't worry Queen of Hearts, I'll make sure to give everyone an invite to their wedding. Now where did Lilia keep those marriage papers?
They all have bets placed and are actively sabotaging the others
Queen of hearts sets a picnic? Maleficent ruins it with thunder
Scar sets up Leon with a walk? Dowshed by Hades
A deal with the sea witch? Haha good luck with jafar rooting for jamil
Happy Father's Day to all the Dads, including anime Dads. And Nanami Kento, of course.
Nobara hated this. For most other girls, it was a natural process, a part of life to be embraced, an inconvenience you groaned about to your girlfriends as you rummaged through your bag for a tampon. For her, it interfered with training. It might even be a hindrance on missions, where she might not be in the best physical condition, where every little ache and pain her body inflicted upon her could mean the difference between life and death.
Gritting her teeth, she made her way into the hallway of the main building of Jujutsu Tech, taking a shortcut to the student dormitories, even if it meant tracking mud and debris from her training session with Panda all across the pristine wooden floors. Her abdomen had been plagued with discomfort all afternoon, and now, after that particularly rigorous regimen Panda had put her through, the cramps were returning with a vengeance.
Even worse, another side effect, one she detested the most, was making itself known. Frustration, anger, resentment against her own body for failing her in this way, were all boiling up inside her in a way that made her throat tight and her eyes sting.
One hand on her belly, squinting slightly as another wave of pain assailed her, Nobara shuffled through the hallway, hellbent on reaching her room where a nice hot shower, some painkillers and the soft embrace of her blankets awaited her.
There were voices behind her now. It sounded as if Yuuji and Inumaki had completed their own session and were returning to the dorms as well. Nobara could hear Yuuji enthusiastically outlining his new method of deflecting attacks to his quiet companion, punctuated by the occasional "salmon", "fish flakes" or "salmon roe". Yuuji spotted her and she groaned internally.
"Hey, Kugisaki! Wanna hear about my new technique?"
"Not right now. Read the room."
"Whoa, you look ... not so great. You okay?"
She grunted as a way of reply.
"What's up? You not feeling too good?"
As well-meaning as Yuuji was, he really didn't know when to step back from a situation. Nobara didn't have the energy to whack him upside the head like she usually did, though. To her horror, the constricting sensation in her throat was coiling like a vice, the burn behind her eyes growing stronger. A single, fat tear slipped traitorously from her lash line, tracking down her cheek.
Yuuji looked horrified, and Inumaki, eyes wide above his collar, was rooted to the spot, neither boy sure what had brought this on. Hands flapping helplessly, Yuuji took a step towards her.
"Uhh, Kugisaki? Was it something I said? I'm really sorry if -"
"It's not you, idiot," Nobara muttered, hands scrubbing furiously at her eyes.
"What's going on here?"
Oh, for the love of God.
She had learned to recognize that clipped, smooth baritone from the time the sorcerer in question had been designated as Yuuji's mentor on some missions when Gojo wasn't available.
Nanami Kento, grade one sorcerer, wielder of the seven : three ratio technique. Nobara didn't know much about the man, having interacted with him only a few times. She knew that he was strict, no-nonsense, a stickler for propriety and good conduct, rather dour and gloomy if what Gojo described was accurate. Used to be a salaryman. He certainly looked like the kind of man who could blend into any boardroom, with his tan business suit and perfectly parted blonde hair.
He was now eyeing her from behind those reflective shades, taking in her bedraggled appearance, the leaves and mud on her clothing and hair, the hand clutching at her abdomen, the tear-streaked face. She wondered, momentarily, if he was going to dismiss her as yet another weak, female sorcerer with aspirations far higher than her ability. The thought made a fresh wave of frustration rise in her chest, moistening her eyes once again.
Nanami turned, expression unchanged, and addressed the boys.
"You two go and get supper at the canteen. Kugisaki, with me please."
He began to make his way out towards the student dorms, not bothering to check if she was following. Grumbling slightly, Nobara complied.
"Don't need an escort," she muttered.
"I'm aware."
"Then - "
"How bad are the cramps?"
She stared at the back of his head. Nanami paused and turned towards her slightly, one eyebrow raised.
"Well?"
"Uh ... pretty bad."
"Hmm."
He resumed his walk, and she followed, almost in a trance. Nanami spoke again, voice quiet and measured, before she had a chance to put words to her query.
"I had a friend, when I studied here at Jujutsu Tech. He had a sister who he was very close to. He used to visit her in the countryside, and they looked after each other. He could always recognize when she needed help of this sort. He told me everything. I had no choice but to listen. He was ... a talker."
"Oh, I see. What kind of stuff did he mention?"
"Many things. The kind of tea that eased her pain. The stretches she liked to perform. The bath salts he used to purchase for her from the store at the shrine. The food she liked to eat."
In spite of herself, Nobara quirked a small smile.
"Sounds like ... a pretty good guy."
"He was."
She was silent for a minute, taking in the tense with which Nanami had referred to his friend.
"Did he - "
"Yes. Many years ago."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"No need. We all know the dangers of this profession. Haibara knew too."
They'd reached the dorms and Nanami opened the door, motioning her through. Somehow, coming from him, the gesture didn't seem condescending. She stepped through and he followed, moving off to the side into the small kitchenette that was reserved for the students' use.
Nobara hovered awkwardly in the doorway, wondering what she was supposed to say next. Nanami was busying himself with the cupboards, boiling water and pulling open the fridge. He glanced over and she realised that, at some point, he had removed the shades that normally concealed his stern gaze.
"Go and get yourself cleaned up. Then come back to the kitchen when you're done."
"Um, sure. Goodnight, Nanami."
"Oh, and Kugisaki?"
"Yes?"
"You're a strong and capable young sorcerer. We all have moments of weakness. From time to time, remember to let yourself be. We are sorcerers, but we're also human. Sometimes, recalling that simple fact is enough to hold your mind together when nothing else will."
Nobara's throat was tightening once again, but this time, she felt little to no shame. She was beginning to realise that the sorcerers who were responsible for them knew exactly what they were talking about. No wonder he had come across as so perceptive. How many nights had he spent, alone, in pain, wishing he were stronger, better, wishing that the boy who once smiled alongside him was still amongst the living? How weak had he felt, back then? Had he wished an adult had said these very words to him?
"I'll remember that. Thank you, Nanami."
"Goodnight, Kugisaki."
After a long, hot bath, Nobara changed into her most comfortable pyjamas and slowly made her way back to the kitchen, as Nanami had instructed. As ridiculous as it sounded, she felt a small sense of nervous anticipation. What had he done in there?
Entering, the scent of something delicious made her mouth begin to water. There, on the stove top, bubbling merrily in a small cast iron dish, was a cheese and corn, green onions snipped neatly as garnish over the top. Covered dishes of miso soup and rolled omelette with diced vegetables stood to the side, still steaming slightly. In a pot on the stove, next to the cheese and corn, Nobara sniffed out something warm and herbal, some kind of tea blend.
Mood lifting immediately, Nobara set the table and dug into the food. As simple as the fare was, it was exactly the kind of comfort food she had been craving. Right then, it tasted like a five-star meal to her.
As she polished off the last of her food and gathered all the dishes together to wash up, she noted that her cramps had eased considerably, probably due to the warm bath, the medication and her satiated appetite. Soap forming soft suds under her fingers, Nobara surprised herself by humming slightly.
Nanami had certainly turned out to be different than she'd expected. From the little she'd seen of his interactions with Yuuji, she had assumed that he was quite a cold person.
She remembered, in that moment however, that Yuuji had never had a single bad thing to say about Nanami. Granted, Yuuji was one of the most accepting and easy-going people she knew, but there was a certain admiration and respect evident in his voice when he spoke about Nanami that she hadn't noticed in his descriptions of other people.
She was beginning to see why.
Leaving the dishes to dry on the rack, she poured out the remaining tea and carried the cup to her room. The porcelain was warm, steady and comforting between her fingers, like his eyes had been in the dim light of the kitchenette. She had never seen him without his glasses before.
Growing up in that small village, Nobara had learned to prize a particular quality above all others, one that she would now add to the growing list of words she could use to describe Nanami Kento.
Kindness.
(( SPOILERS JJK 257 ))
dinners in the Itadori family became much more fun.
Sukuna teasing his nephew Yuji and the boyfriend Megumi,
Choso and Wasuke looking hatefully at Kaori/Kenjaku,
Jin trying to keep the table in harmony otherwise everyone will try to kill each other before dessert.
and Todo appearing out of nowhere to join the family.
These are my real family kaisen.
character/s: bakugo katsuki, shinsou hitoshi, kaminari denki, todoroki shouto
genre: fluff, crack (?), them hyping u up like there’s no tomorrow, uhh reader wears makeup 🤕
notes: this is for all u pretty mfs aka all of u whether u believe it or not YOU ARE PRETTY AMD HOT AND AMAZING 😡‼️ also disclaimer: the boys love u not just for your face. they think you’re so cool for being beautiful inside n out and this is just them appreciating the out 🧎♀️
bakugo katsuki thinks you’re so pretty that his only response to it is to be angry. he’d watch intently the way you’d smooth your clothes down and cutely fiddle with your hair in the mirror as if there’s even anything to fix. he’ll cup your pretty face in his hands and squeeze your cheeks together (cuteness aggression probably), “tell me why you’re so fucking pretty all the time? what are you so pretty for, huh?!”
bakugo katsuki would always watch you do your makeup and hair and then slip into the prettiest clothes only you can pull off and he’s just mesmerized by the whole thing.
“katsuki, please stop drooling and get dressed. we’re gonna be late.”
his only response is: “fuck off.”
because he can never deny nor hide the fact that he constantly admires you every chance he gets. he storms his way to you and snatches a shimmery eyeshadow from your makeup bag. “tch, you don’t even need any of this shit.”
“you don’t like it, katsuki?” you stare up at him doe-eyed, easily making his heart skip a beat.
“h-hah?! i didn’t say that!” he shoves it to your hand, “now do this glittery shit next!”
and you just ditch whatever plans you’d made and spend the rest of the night trying on different makeup looks. he’ll insist that you sit on his lap while you doll yourself up just because, and you gladly do so but then you both end up wearing a full face of glam makeup 🧍♀️ he doesn’t know how he just let it happen but he’s like, “whatever makes you fucking happy, y/n.”
he then proceeds to tell you that, “every one of those ugly extras should grovel at your feet, worship the ground you walk on, and then beg for your forgiveness.”
“forgive them for what?”
he stares blankly at you. “for breathing the same air as you.”
bakugo katsuki’s not active on social media at all but on his instagram, his first and only post is a photo dump of just youー the selfies you took on his phone, your date outfits, candid photos (by courtesy of bakugo katsuki) of you smiling at a stray cat, the power nap you took on his shoulder, and his favorite one by far: a photo of you wearing his black tank top that completely swallows you up, holding up two little peace signs on your cheeks.
and of course, he captions it, “u and ur ugly ass wish u were y/n.”
Keep reading
Do you know about the Welcome Home fandom? So what about Wally Darling!Reader?
HAZBIN HOTEL X WALLY DARLING! READER
prompt: you are a greeter of the hazbin hotel! Who knew a muppet looking demon could be so colorful.
You are so soft spoken! Like that soft voice you have can hypnotize anyone into doing anything.
“hello, welcome to the hazbin hotel. i’m your greeter.” You say with a “:D” face
You’re so colorful and you’re definitely shorter than Lucifer…i can see Lucifer picking you up like a damn doll at times as you just smile with your muppet ass smile.
You’re just TOO DAMN CUTEEE! 🦆💗 literally even husk grumbles and gives you apples by the bar for you to stop giving him those doe eyes you give him when you are needy for apples.
I feel because of your muppet look, it would bring attention to yourself as a muppets looking demon is quite rare around the pentagram city, or even hell itself as Lucifer and Charlie have a muppet or Marionette look. 
Literally you are friends with Lucifer because of it and he finds your muppet look adorable. Even with your 3 ft height. (Yes I looked up his height and damn he short as hell!😭)
You are just chilling after greeting some new sinners in the hotel as you read the news paper, Lucifer comes out of no where. Dead ass reads the newspaper trying to understand your likes and dislikes.
“Lu-Lu?” You said softly as Lucifer awkwardly smiles and does finger guns at you. “Oh what a coincidence? What are you doing here..?” He says awkwardly as he sweatdrops at his attempt to start a conversation with you. “I live here?” You said raising a brow sitting down the newspaper.
“Oh I do too! What a very crazy thing?!” He says pointing his finger at himself as he poofs away in embarrassment as you just sat there…..*cue in pure confusion*
Alastor would not hate you because you are colorful, lemme be realistic. You two would be mutuals. Not like “oh I hate you but you are cool” type shit. I mean you two are the people who wave at each other but never approach each other because you don’t know if they like you fr. 🥲
One time a sinner had shoulder bumped you on purpose thinking you wasn’t gonna do anything…BUT NAH! YOU GRABBED THAT MF BY HIS NECK AS A SHADOW COVERS YOUR FACE, only leaving your eyes showing as you kick they ass out. You ain’t dealin' with no bullshit at this establishment. And for your friend’s sake.
Angel likes to play with makeup with your face since it’s calling out for his makeup kit. Literally he does blue eyeshadow on you.
I headcannon you wear blue eyeshadow just like how Wally’s eyelid is blue up there. Dead ass it would be cute if it was just blue eye shadow and you had a natural blush on your cheeks. You are quite beautiful reader💗😘
Since Angel is a drag queen, he would also try to make you wear drag queen makeup only for you to sneeze at how much product he used…yeah he never used it on your face.
You’re beautiful natural anyway…just don’t sneeze in his face. Ever again.
You definitely look like you listen to 1970-80’s jazz music as you dance in the lobby with Alastor nodding along happy. Just two jazz buddies liking jazz.
I can imagine Charlie trying to hold you back from eating the fruit gift basket for the guests…you’re only aiming for the damn apples as your mouth was drooling for it.
Imagine Vox has you on his channel because he brided you with apples. He stalked you through your tv you had that has rainbows and apples on it-
Well anyways Alastor “recused” you because you just sat there “begging” to be saved is what he saved when you munched on an apple confused by why Alastor came to take you away from Vox.
If you and Lucifer hung out doing hobbies together, which he suggested. You’re panting a portrait as he makes a duck based off of you….he can’t help but show affection of making you a duck version of yourself.
Niffty and you definitely get along well as hell! As you two have the same fashion taste as you both will dance to the genre of music you guys like.
With you being the greeter, you always have a soft smile and a soft approach to make the guest and residents feel safe in the hotel.
Sir Pentious will absolutely admire you…like a friend crush. He just wants to be your friend but you are too pure to approach as he thinks he won’t be cool enough to be your friend.
Imagine Valentino seeing you shopping and he tried to approach you only for a red smoke to cover you as you blinked confused to see an overprotective Lucifer smiling at you as you had teleported to the hotel. But with Lucifer, you could see his real feelings as you felt confused.
After a few months you and Pentious became friends because of one of his egg boiz named Frank said his “boss” wants to be friends with you. You giggled and nodded as you and sir Pentious do trust exercises together when Charlie host them.
Husk had dilated eyes and purr at you because you scratched under his chin which made him snap out of his cat daze and slap your hand as you giggle with a soft gaze.
I headcannon Velvette to be your girl who makes your outfits in primary colors. Like that or just cute aesthetic kid core fits. 💗‼️
I can see how reader always gives balloons to sinners who had trouble reliving their childhood. So they give balloons out to the sinners who had childhood trauma. You are a greeter, and a hell of a good one. 🦆💗
Imagine how Wally! Reader has those safety pins that say “Welcome!” And it’s so cute because you made them a t hand and Lucifer saw his you had effort in it so he made you more to give out to the guests.
I feel like Valentino will try to get you under his contract so he can use your pretty look since you seem like a femboy….but really you’re just a little guy who likes apples and his friends.
YOU’RE ONLY 12 APPLES TALL! 😨
But the hazbin crew literally cockblock him to the point he just stops doing he was trying to do to you.
I can see Lucifer trying to impress you at times as he never has a friend that had a cute appearance like you so your blank eye stare always catches him off as you just stand there smiling so adorably.
I headcannon waking up to find an apple by your night stand as a note reads “hope you like the apple, my angel!”- Lu-Lu. You just blinked at the apple completely ignoring the note and eating the apple as you smile at the taste.
“…yummy apppleee….” You say until you open your eyes looking at the note. “Wait what.”
You had gave Lucifer back an apple basket with rubber ducks that had painted apples not it for your appreciation of the apples he gave you 
Continuation of the one with Kuina (I am working on the Haganezuka comic)
A 'What-If' situation where Kuina is the one monitoring the Final Selection with Kiriya instead of Kanata.
Based on: