My Mom Sent Me A Tiny Man That I Have To Bury In The Ground. Catholicism Is Wild

Hahaha he literally sounds like Stan 🤣🤣

snowbirds 

domini album

#7 Shisui Uchiha

summary: one room, one bed, one mission partner.

a/n: this fic was impossible to name, and i came so close to just titling it "the one where they share a bed" or "the one in which shisui uchiha almost gets demoted"

word count: 4,457

You’d decided that the Godaime Hokage was testing you. 

She was testing you, because otherwise there was no way in hell you would have been assigned to the same mission as Shisui Uchiha three days before the height of the winter storm season in the northern countries, where traveling would be incredibly slowed, indefinitely extending the amount of time you’d have to spend together with him. 

A mission a carrier pigeon could have completed in less time it would take for you and the curly haired Uchiha to cross the continent to Kumogakure, no less one of Shisui’s own crows. But here you were, standing in the last room available in a hotel at the edge of Kumo’s border with Shisui standing only a few feet away, his travel pack still slung over his shoulder and snowflakes melting in his hair. 

“No,” you said, breaking the tense silence. 

Shisui turned, looking back at you. “No?” 

“No,” you repeated, shaking your head. “We are not sharing the same bed.” He started to smile, his lips pulling up to one side in a smile you’d realized meant he was going to try his damndest to be a menace, and you cut him off. “I’m going back to the lobby and asking for another bed, so don’t get comfortable.” 

 He replied, voice lilting, “They already told us this room was all they had.” 

You shot him a glare over your shoulder. “I’m not sharing a bed with you.” 

You didn’t care for how many years that you’d known him, or how many times you’d saved each other’s asses on missions before, or how you felt about him, this was Shisui Uchiha, and he was your mission partner – that’s it – and you weren’t going to let the line blur, no matter how much he teased and antagonized you. 

“Then we can flip a coin to see who’ll sleep on the floor,” he shrugged lightheartedly, setting his pack down. “Or in the shower,” he added, leaning slightly to look into the bathroom through the opened door. He sent you a cheeky wink, “Showering together means we both get hot water.”  

You clenched your jaw, willing the heat away from your face. “I’m sure you can heat the water just fine with your katons.” 

He just smiled and started opening his pack. “If you want to shower now, I’ll go down to the lobby and get some hot food. I think I saw a kitchen down there.” 

You watched as he pulled out a small pouch of coin from his bag before zipping it up again and letting it lean against the wall. He moved around you, minding your space as he went for the door, but he paused before he opened it, one hand on the knob. 

“Any food in particular you want me grab?” he asked, head tilting to the side. 

You hesitated, gauging his temporary seriousness, then replied, “Bread – if they have any.” 

He gave you a nod, and then flashed smile before slipping out the door. It clicked shut behind him, and you felt the flare of his chakra as he covered the door with a protective seal. The moment he was gone, you loosed a breath, and started to take off your boots. 

Shisui was so complicated and after over a week of trekking through Hot Water Country and then Frost Country, you were no closer to understanding him than you had been before you were forced into isolation with him. He was a constantly twisting dichotomy of humor and seriousness, a prankster and yet also a jōnin-ranked shinobi with a flee on sight order in all the other Great Nations aside from Fire Country. You’d already experienced a number of times in the last seven days when his personality just flipped, an airy joke made in one breath and his ninjatō buried in the gut of an enemy nin by the next. 

If you didn’t already trust him with your life, you’d be worried that he wasn’t entirely mentally competent. 

And it wasn’t that you didn’t like him – truthfully, it was more that you didn’t dislike him that was your problem. You’d grown up with Shisui, graduating from the Academy and then through the promotions at nearly the same rate, but while your friends had come in the names of Kurenai, Asuma, Genma, Rin, Obito, Gai, and Kakashi, Shisui gravitated toward his younger cousin, and had melted into the ranks of ANBU with him until a scandal that had ended with the death of Danzō Shimura and the sudden introduction of fifty undocumented Leaf nin into the shinobi system had dragged him back into jōnin mission duties. 

Until a year ago, he’d been a distant fantasy, someone you could think about with the freedom of knowing your friends would never be able to guess who it was your thoughts drifted toward through the years. But then Tsunade-sama had started assigning him onto missions with you, or with your friends, and Kakashi had involuntarily begun to run interference whenever Gai started to look too closely at the way you’d react whenever Shisui was mentioned, keeping your secret before you were ready to tell it. 

The more time you spent with him or around him, the more often you could feel yourself falling further down a rabbit hole you’d inevitably get stuck in, and now, sharing a room with him? You might as well just look for a shovel to turn the rabbit hole into a grave. 

You shivered as you stripped your clothes, pulling three layers off that were all damp and cold from the melted snow. You didn’t bother hanging the clothes, not when you stood naked in the freezing bathroom while steam from the shower promised warmth. As you slipped behind the curtain, you had to suppress a moan when you stepped under the heated water. 

You and Shisui had been staying in hotels every night that you’d been on the mission, but all of them had been low-scale so to not draw attention to yourselves and had no running water since the pipes were frozen. You’d both been heating the tubs in the hotel bathrooms with katons, the water provided from one of your suiton jutsus, but nothing compared to running water heated by a furnace rather than an Uchiha who wasn’t sure what the boiling point of water was. 

Distantly, you heard the click of the door and recognized Shisui’s chakra signature as you washed the soap from your chest and legs. Knowing that he’d want a hot shower too, you forced yourself to turn the water off and wrapped yourself up in a towel. You made quick work of getting dressed, pulling on a pair of long pants, thick socks, and a thick green sweater you’d stolen from Kurenai before you’d left. 

Out in the room, Shisui was standing above the only table in the room holding a cup of something warm between his hands. 

“Well, you look comfortable,” he chuckled, but you ignored him, going straight for the food as your stomach growled. “They didn’t have bread, but the chef was nice and gave me larger bowls. I think she thought I was cute.” 

You scoffed into your bowl, glad to hide your face with a spoonful of butajiru than acknowledge him flirting with someone. 

“She also gave me some hot chocolate,” he added, and you could practically feel his smirk as you kept ignoring him. “She didn’t look as charitable when I asked if I could have another cup for my wife.” 

You choked, broth catching in your throat as your head snapped up and you stared wide-eyed at Shisui.

“W-Wife?” you managed to get out, spluttering. 

He laughed as he set the mug of hot chocolate down to a second mug you hadn’t noticed before. “My one and only, I told her,” he replied. “The woman who made me chase after her before she finally agreed to marry me.” You could feel your face heating, cheeks practically burning as he continued on. “I might’ve mentioned how you were waiting for me and keeping our bed warm though,” he said, “so the hot chocolate might just be a one-off thing.” 

“Shi-” You gaped around his name. “Shisui!” you shouted. “You’re – you’re –”

“Hilarious? Clever? Amazing?” 

“Insane!” you shrieked, slapping a hand over your face, if only so you would stop looking at him. Wife – kami, he’d called you his wife. 

“Ah, but my insanity got us a warm treat,” he laughed, and then stooped over so that he could pull your hand away from your face. You glared at him with no real heat, really only focused on stopping yourself from rushing outside and sticking your head into a snow drift to stop the blush from making your face actually catch fire. “I’ll go shower now, wife. Make sure you finish your dinner.” 

He let go of your wrist, laughing as you gaped at him, only finding your voice after he grabbed his pack and started to close the door to the bathroom. 

“He’s insane,” you said to yourself. “He’s actually insane.” 

You cut a look toward the twin mugs of hot chocolate and had to bite your lip to keep yourself from involuntarily smiling as you shook your head. “Wife,” you repeated, rolling your eyes. “As if I’d marry him.” 

You decided to drown the taste of the lie with the butajiru, and by the time you’d finished the mug of chocolate and climbed into the bed, Shisui was stepping out of the shower, steam billowing from behind him as he rubbed the towel against his hair. 

“Flipped the coin and chose the winning side, did we?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as you tried to not look at the muscles of his arm as he finished scrubbing his hair. 

You gave him a look, to which he just chuckled at and tossed the towel over the hook on the back of the bathroom door before closing it. 

“My wife is so cruel,” Shisui said as he pulled his bed roll from his traveling pack. “She makes me fetch the food and take a shower second, and then forces me to sleep on the floor.”

“Your wife sounds delightful,” you replied dryly, rolling your eyes as you turned over, intent to not let him see your face. 

Your heard him hum in response, and listened as he walked around the room, flipping the light off. The room was instantly pitch dark, and it took your eyes a moment to adjust as you listened to Shisui get into his bed roll. 

In the bed, you curled your legs up, trying to find the warmth that seemed to have left you the moment the lights went out. Even through your thick socks, you could feel the cold biting at your toes, and your nose felt icy as you pressed it against your inner wrist.

You weren’t sure how long passed before you were biting your lip to keep from shivering, and you were forced to think of Rin’s teasing before you left on your mission. 

The closer you get to Kumo, the colder you’ll get, she’d said, and while you hadn’t been warm since hitting the northern border Fire Country shared with Hot Water Country – a region which did not live up to its name in the winter months – the cold had been mostly tolerable. Until today. When you and Shisui had unanimously agreed to find a hotel with running water, even if it potentially drew more unwanted eyes to yourselves. 

You swallowed, and then, before you could think better of it, whispered, “Shisui?” 

His response came hardly a second later. “Yeah?” 

You hesitated, knowing that you could tell him ‘Goodnight’ just as easily as you could pretend you hadn’t said anything at all, but…

But – 

“Would you – will you,” you swallowed again, turning onto your back. “You can sleep in the bed.” 

There was a moment of silence, and then you heard him shift in his bed roll before he asked, all humor absent from his voice, “Are you sure you’re comfortable with that?” 

You nodded before you realized he probably couldn’t see you. “Yeah, I am.” 

There was a sound of linen moving as he stood up, and then you felt the bed dip to one side as your heart began to race harder. 

“Are you cold?” Shisui asked, his voice much closer now as he lifted the edge of the blanket. 

“Y-Yeah,” you answered, stiffening when you felt his foot accidentally brush against your ankle. 

There was a light tease in his voice as he said, “And now my wife wants to use me for my body heat?” 

You kicked him in the shin before you thought better of it and heard his him chuckle as he settled next to you, his shoulder just brushing against yours. 

“That’s going to leave a bruise,” he said, and you froze when you felt his breath coast over the plane of your cheek, which meant he was looking at you. 

You didn’t dare turn your head toward his, no matter that you could see the outline of his profile in your periphery. “Good,” you replied. 

“I could just go back to the floor,” he drawled, starting to raise the cover. 

“No,” you blurted out, grabbing for his arm but your hand awkwardly collided with his hand, your fingers wrapping around his in the attempt to keep him from moving. The bed had already warmed since he’d gotten in only moments ago, and…and it was nice, him being this close, even if it made every part of you hyper focused on him. 

Stiffly, you let go of his hand, the pads of your fingers brushing over the back of his knuckles as you pulled your arm back under the covers. 

“It’s warmer now,” you said into the silence, glancing toward him. 

For a moment, you thought Shisui wouldn’t answer, and then you’d have to force yourself to sleep knowing you’d thoroughly embarrassed yourself, but then he shifted in the bed, adjusting his pillow under his head. He’d turned over, facing you fully. Briefly, you thought you saw a glimmer of his kekkei genkai in the place where you thought his eyes were, but there were only shades of shadows in the room. 

“It’d be warmer if you let me hold you,” he finally replied. 

You felt the heat of embarrassment light your face up faster than dry grass in a fire, and an alarmed noise escaped you before you could swallow it. Shisui laughed again, but the sound was soft, like he didn’t want to break the conversation off with it. 

“It’s just body heat,” he said, sounding like he was smiling again. 

You seriously wondered if he really could see your face, because he chuckled and reached out, chucking the underside of your chin with his index finger and making you close your parted lips. 

“I’m just kidding,” he said. “You can put your back against mine.” 

You swallowed, considering him in the dark. Even though the warmth of him was helping, you really were still cold and didn’t want to spend the whole night shivering – or waking up to a toe that’d fallen off from the chill. And you trusted him. This was Shisui, and if he wasn’t your friend, he was at least an acquaintance, and someone that you’d known for well over a decade at this point. 

“Just,” you started, and squeezed the blanket. “You can. But be serious.”  

He reached for your hand, his hand sliding down your arm, and you felt his pinky finger lock through yours. Your eyes widened at the gesture, something you’d never seen him do before, but you listened as he told you, “Turn over.” 

You felt him move closer, and your breath caught in your throat as you felt him settle his chest against your back, his arms wrapping around you as you kept the blanket pulled over both you. The scent of him was almost overwhelming at first, and as he pulled you into him, setting his right arm just in front of you, you exhaled a long breath, gradually letting yourself sink into him. His legs tangled with yours, one of his thighs slotted between yours, and one of his shins laying over your ankle. Heat practically radiated off of him, and you found yourself pressing closer to him as he brushed his nose against the back of your neck. 

“This okay?” you felt him murmur against your skin and couldn’t help the goosebumps that rose across your neck and arms. 

“Yeah,” you forced out, shutting your eyes as your heart jack hammered against your chest. You could practically feel his mouth brushing against your neck, and it took every bit of your self-control to not lean farther back to push his lips against your skin. 

You counted the seconds as they passed, willing your body to relax and let your breaths match Shisui’s as his chest rose and fell against your back. 

Hardly two minutes had passed before he whispered, “Your heart is racing like we’ve never slept like this before, wife.” 

“I can’t say we have, husband,” you replied, glad that he couldn’t see you screwing your eyes shut. 

He chuckled, his breath stirring some of the sensitive hair at your nape. “I’ll hold you every night, if you want me to, wife,” he said, and you knew he felt you stiffen again. 

“You’re insane, Shisui,” you muttered, pushing your face into the cool pillowcase. 

He chuckled, and this time his lips did brush against the back of your neck, making your body go rigid as he replied, “Then you can banish me to the floor again, wife.”

You grumbled, “How long are you going to call me that?” 

“Call you what?” 

You bit your cheek. “Your wife.” 

You felt him smile against your skin as he answered, “Maybe ‘til the day I die, but I just might find a way to haunt you so you never stop hearing me say it.” 

“But we’re not –” you gaped, starting to turn over, but only managing to twist so far that your face was directly in line with Shisui’s. “We’re not…” 

Words left you as you met his eyes, the red glow of his Sharingan eyes casting soft shadows over his face. 

Handsome, you thought instantaneously. He was so, so breathtakingly handsome. 

His hand was settled over your stomach now from when you’d turned, and you felt his fingers close around the fabric of the sweater as you stared at each other. 

You could see his mouth pull into a smile before he said, “We’re not…what?” 

You shut your mouth, not realizing you hadn’t done so before, and then replied, “Married. We’re not…married.” 

“I told that chef something else,” Shisui said, his eyes flicking over your face. 

Quietly, you asked, “What?” 

“I told her about how I’ve been in love with my wife since we were kids,” he said softly. “About how I couldn’t tell her for years, because my family was in danger, and I had to help them and how I wasn’t sure I’d survive it, and how when I did live and I started seeing her more often, it made me love her more, now that I was free to tell her.” 

You weren’t sure that you were breathing anymore. Your heart felt like it’d stopped beating in your chest, and all you could feel was every point of contact you shared with Shisui. 

“I told her about how everyone was figuring it out before my wife was, that I was in love with her, and even our boss kept assigning us on jobs together, trying to get my wife to realize I was chasing after her when she didn’t even realize I was running,” he continued, and his hand left your stomach, reaching toward your face. You felt him brush the side of his finger over your cheek, a gentle smile just barely illuminated by his kekkei genkai. “I told her that when my wife finally figured it out, she didn’t believe me and thought I was joking.” 

It was all you could do to stare at Shisui, realizing that he’d read your reaction perfectly. 

He shifted, pulling on your hip with his hand as he turned your body over so that you were facing each other. When you were laying face to face, hardly more than a hairsbreadth between your noses, he took one of your hands in his, giving you the opportunity to pull away before he slotted his fingers through yours. 

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he said, squeezing your hand. “I wanted to tell you, but what I had to go through with the clan…with Danzō…” he shook his head, grimacing. “I couldn’t tell you, because if it turned out that you even cared about me at all, I wasn’t sure that I could promise you I would be around at the end of it all.” 

“ANBU,” you whispered. “Those years in ANBU…you hardly came around. You didn’t talk to me at all.” 

He frowned at the memory. “I didn’t want Danzō to have any advantage over me. If he’d known how I felt about you – that I loved you…” The patterns in Shisui’s Sharingan swirled, and you Sensed his ire roil in his chakra signature, a thin film above a much deeper rage, but then he exhaled, and the anger faded – quelled. “I can’t tell you everything, not right now, but there’s reasons why I didn’t tell you in the past. Sooner.” 

“I –” You closed your mouth and then swallowed. “You – I mean, me? You…you love me?”

“Yes you,” he answered, brow furrowing as his hand left yours and brushed over the side of your face, fingers catching in your hair. “Always you. Since before I even realized what I felt for you was love.” 

Your throat felt tight as the sight of him became blurry and you bent away slightly. He let you pull away, but he stayed close, his hand returning to the space it’d been with yours as you furtively swiped the sudden tears away from your eyes. 

“Shisui,” you said, reaching for his hand and holding it tightly in yours. “You love me?” 

The worried lines in his face softened, and he turned his hand in yours, holding it as he brushed a thumb over your knuckles. “I do,” he answered. 

“Shisui,” you shook your head, reaching out for his face and cupping his cheek in your palm. His eyes widened at the gesture, but he made no move to escape as your fingers curled in the damp curls at his hairline. You knew from Rin what it meant for an Uchiha to let someone touch their face, where their most precious possession was. “Why did you choose now, while we’re in the middle of nowhere, sharing a bed because it’s freezing cold while we’re on a mission to tell me this?” 

His smile pressed against your palm. “We’re on two separate missions,” he replied. When your brow furrowed he explained, “You’re on a B rank mission to deliver a missive to the Raikage. I’m on a S rank mission to be completed upon pain of demotion to genin and unpaid leave for ten years if I don’t stop irritating Tsunade-sama with my ‘longing puppy-dog eyes’ and tell you how I feel.” 

The laugh that burst out of you nearly made you knock heads with Shisui as you sat up, holding your stomach as you shook your head. 

“You’re kidding me,” you snorted, letting Shisui pull you into his arms as he sat up beside you, the blanket twisting around both of you. 

“Absolutely not,” he answered, pressing his face into your neck. “My mission payment is her blessing and paid time off if I can convince you to marry me in a year.” 

You tried to stop yourself from laughing, but couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your lips. 

“You only told me tonight that you love me – you think we’ll be married in a year?” you replied, tressing your fingers through his hair. “What if we really can’t stand each other?” 

Shisui smiled, and you felt your stomach flip as he shifted, pressing you back into the bed as he leaned over you. “Do you love me?” he asked. 

You stared up at him and nodded slowly. “I do.” 

You watched as he lowered himself, putting his weight on his left elbow as he tugged you toward him so that you were facing each other again, noses just brushing. 

“Then you can tell me to sleep on the floor every night, or have me take a shower only after you for the rest of our lives, or make me get all of the food we’ll fill our house with, but I know I’ll always love you,” he said, curling his fingers through your hair. “You’ll never have to doubt me.” 

You pressed your hand to his chest and then reached around his neck, running your fingers through his short hair. “You’re awfully confident thinking that I want to marry you.” 

Shisui’s smile was something you wished you could remember in perfect clarity for the rest of your life, because something in your heart shifted, and you felt all at once just how much you loved him – had been loving him for years. 

“You called me ‘husband’ before, didn’t you?” he replied, and you felt his thumb trace the edge of your lip, delicate as he followed the curve of your mouth even as you smiled. 

“And you think I’ll do it again before a year is over?” you asked quietly. 

Everything about Shisui was gentle as he moved, just a tilt of his jaw and then his lips replaced his thumb, pressing against yours as he pulled you closer into him. Immediately, you responded, kissing him back as he raised your chin and tucked his hand under your jaw, fingers curling just around the side of your throat as his thumb held your cheek. 

Again and again he kissed you, his tongue swiping along the seam of your lips and when your lips were swollen and your breaths came in short pants, he moved again, kissing the side of your face – your cheek, your temple, your jaw – until he was against your ear. 

“Marry me whenever you want,” he said, caressing your jaw again, “just as long as you call me your husband again.” 

The smile that broke across your face nearly made it impossible for him to kiss you again. 

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Into the Woods (And Out of the Woods?) (Reader x Fae)

Title:  Into the Woods (And Out of the Woods?) (Reader x Fae)

Synopsis: You wandered a little too deep in the woods. A little too far away from human civilization, and a little too close to something else. Commissioned piece.

Word Count: 2850

notes: yandere-vibes

You loved the woods.

You loved the woods behind your house, those childhood woods that held memories and secrets and moments that defined you as a person. The time you and your friends cut your palms and rubbed your blood together in a secret pact; the time you got lost and your mother found you, and the smell of her perfume filling your nose when she hugged you so tight you couldn’t breathe; the giggles and whispers as you imagined you were hunting for fairies in those childhood green, wild spaces. 

When you were younger, you used to swear you did see a fairy in the woods once. For real. Not just your imagination, or the secret wish of your heart–but a real-life sighting of something that shouldn’t exist but did. 

Only it wasn’t a pretty little thing wearing a flower dress, sporting two gauzy pink wings that shed glitter. It was something small, and sharp, with dark eyes that glittered with greed. But greed for what, you couldn’t say. Not then. Not when you were so young. 

Keep reading

What happens if Poseidon did something that he shouldn't have while in the god killer present as not only they insulted them but also hurt their favorite mortal who have the honor to not only groom them but also have the void favor

And the punishment that Shiva, Zeus, Hades, and Odin witnessed and see the fraction of how terrifying and cre they are as they only sent the sea god only one second in their void domain and when return they see fear on his face and give him to remember for a month before they erase that memory from him

But Poseidon continuous will forever warn him not to piss off that one black cat

-Many of the gods were unsure of you, they knew you were powerful, but the question was about how powerful you actually were. Some wanted to know but nobody, especially those who knew what you were capable of, didn’t want to risk their own lives.

-Poseidon was one who had overhead the rumors about you, hearing the annoying prattling of the gods who were beneath him, questioning about your power and some wondered if any of the gods would be able to handle your power.

-This is where Poseidon became enraged, hearing that none of them, not even the strongest like Odin, Shiva, Zeus, Hades, or even Poseidon would be able to handle your power.

-Poseidon sought you out, not even bothering to greet you and stunned everyone around by pointing his weapon at you as you were chowing down on whipped cream, “You only pretend to be powerful ‘God Killer Y/N’ and I’m here to prove this!!”

-His brothers and nephews all tried to stop him, apologizing on his behalf, but you merely smiled, and your eyes seemed to flash before you lunged and swallowed him whole, stunning all.

-Only a few seconds passed, and you spat him back out and not many can say they had seen Poseidon looking so freaked out as he scrambled away, leaving his trident, his hands coming to his face in a panic, eyes wide and pale, breaths coming in short, nearly hyperventilating.

-You looked down from your chair at him as he spotted you, scrambling to his feet to get away from you as your eyes narrowed, “Let that be a warning for you. And for your punishment- I will let you live with those visions for a while.”

-Zeus was stunned to see his brother in such a way, as was Hades, who actually had to help his brother back to his palace.

-The rumors spread like wildfire on how Poseidon challenged you, and how the sea god now hides in his blankets like a child, terrified of everything around him.

-No others tried to challenge you, something you appreciated, and you showed mercy to Poseidon, as originally you were going to make him live with those memories of what lies within you for a month, but went to him after a week.

-You removed the memories, returning his mental state to normal, and while he didn’t remember what he had seen, he knew that you were to be respected and feared because you were more powerful than anything in existence.

Vlad owned a cookbook.

Keyword, owned.

But you see, it was far from an ordinary cookbook.

It was a bit magical in nature, not on any purpose of Vlad's part, despite being the one to make it. It was created a while after Vlad stopped having an obsession with Maddie and became on somewhat better terms with Jack, in which he decided to entirely ignore one Daniel Fenton.

Instead, he focused on creating the perfect cookbook that has ever graced the mortal plane. Made from the highest leather, the best finest paper and bound together with the best thread he could find.

All helpfully sourced from the Ghost Zone.

Of course, after all of that he had to, well, fill it with recipes.

He had multiple duplicates scouring the internet for various recipes, and since it's for personal use he doesn't have to care for copyright or whatever since it won't be used by anyone but him. While also looking around in the Ghost Zone for specific types of ghosts.

Mostly grannies.

Overtime and with help from his multiple duplicates his cookbook has quickly become filled up, though for some reason there seemed to be an endless number of pages left unfinished, doesn't matter since it's just more space.

Then he started to encounter the spirits of witches, wizards, warlocks, shamans. You get it.

He took recipes from them too, because when he meant this would be the greatest cookbook, he meant it, and what is potion making if not Alchemy, and what is Alchemy if not cooking?

So, after some time, with blood, sweat, and tears being poured into his book with recipes from everywhere and his own personal recipe along with few decorations here and there, making it look less like a common book and more like the prized treasure it truly is, and Vlad's work is finally complete.

The greatest cookbook to ever grace the mortal plane.

He went to sleep happy, woke up the next day happy, used his newfound cookbook happily and was overall having the greatest of times.

He also found out that his cookbook became sentient. Which is nice, because he can just call out a page and it'll flip right through to it, but he doesn't recall how it became sentient.

He's been watching it carefully before completion, and every time it came in contact with ectoplasm it never became sentient like the food the Fentons produce (And yes, living food is indeed within the endless pages of his book), so it maybe had something to do with the more magical recipes contained within.

Not that he cared, really, since it served it's purpose extremely well.

Except, a few months later, with a visit from the Fentons to his mansion, he finds he lost it.

Vlad, predictably, is in shambles.

Is it because his cookbook is a genuine danger to society if in the wrong hands?

No.

Perhaps because contained within its pages are high level alchemical recipes?

No.

Or maybe because there was a recipe to create some kind of potion to kill an immortal, make someone immortal, or reverse death? (Honestly he didn't even remember where he got that one)

Fuck no.

He's in shambles because he didn't even get to use a quarter of the recipes that weren't even his own.

Also, because it's became his technical technically both his son and best friend.

Who does he accuse first?

One Danny Fenton.

Because it only disappeared after Danny came to visit, and while he wouldn't put it past Jack to do something incredibly stupid, the man was nowhere near his book at the time!

Danny, predictably, is not at all amused.

Vlad then pesters him to go out and search for his missing greatest creation and doesn't stop until Danny agrees.

So, now Danny has to find a cookbook that can and probably is a genuine danger to society if someone decides to use the far less than normal recipes.

Also, why the fuck did Vlad even have them??

the quiet twin

a dying fire - tim drake

tim drake x reader, 1.4k words, mentions of weed, vigilante!reader

synopsis: smoking and making out with your best friend is totally normal, mom!

note: early post because i got excited! this is quite literally just a thousand words of me yapping about tim semi-coherently. contains mentions of smoking, it isn't fluffy at all, but i tried really hard and this is the best i could do, i'm so sorry sweet anon </3. i love the characterisation of tim done by @glamourscat so much and i've (attempted) to base my tim off theirs because it's??? so??? good???

Tim Drake was a man of several talents. He was the smartest person alive (according to you, and you were never wrong), he could skateboard with a hand tied behind his back, hell, Ra’s Al Ghul had complimented him (covertly, of course, Mr. I-am-a-supreme-leader would never compliment anyone to their faces), and of course, he was the best partner to have on the field. 

Of course, you weren’t biased at all, how could you be when you were one of the only people who could testify that claim (aside from Brucey, Steph and Dick—maybe—but you were the coolest. Steph was a close second, of course). The fact that he was your best friend, your ride-or-die (bi or die, if you would), both in and out of costume all added to the fact that you were the best person to decide this. Period. 

One of these several talents included rolling the finest blunt seen to mankind, second only to the man who rolled it in terms of sexiness, and lifting your mood up with little kisses along your shoulders whenever you were tense after a bad mission. Think of it like a ritual of sorts: missions go bad, you get yelled at, smoke a blunt from Tim’s hand. A holy trinity if you will and your favourite, especially when it ended up with Tim kissing from your shoulder all the way up to right under your ear before nibbling on that spot till you gasped. Last week, That turned into making out till you both eventually passed out, limbs tangled and his head resting on your chest. 

You two never spoke about it after it happened, but that didn’t stop the both of you from repeating it.  Why would it? There was no downside to this aside from ‘elevating’ the both of you and your moods (because as much as Tim claimed to do it just for you, you knew that wasn’t the whole truth, not with the way his shoulders relaxed or with the way his face lit up when you came to his apartment. He carried the burden of bad missions just as much as you did, if not more, he just never showed it out loud). And so, this became a ritual even if there wasn’t a bad mission or a bad patrol, just something you did with your best friend forever: smoke, makeout, and then fall asleep tangled in each other’s embrace. Slowly, (for the sake of both your healths), smoking was replaced with video games and this became a weekly ritual, where Tim would fight god if he had to for making take for this. Luckily he never had to because Alfred took the joy of Tim taking regular (weekly) breaks where he slept through the night, and never let Tim opt out of it.

Perfect for you, honestly.

And still, there are days when the old ritual came back, and it was back to: missions go bad, you get yelled at, smoke a blunt from Tim’s hand. An optimist would hope those days were rare and preferably not existent during the #holidayszn, however, a Gothamite would know that Gotham gets worse around Christmas, because just like Mariah Carey, Mr. Freeze wakes up. Unlike Mariah Carey, Mr. Freeze does not bring karaoke and laughter with Tim, he brings curses and god-awful puns while terrorizing you, specifically you. 

Now, the thing about being partners with Tim was that missions with him rarely went wrong, because everything was planned to a T with multiple explosions and Batman not being able to say much about him because what, would he ground you? (Timothy ‘I’m an adult’ Drake and you, never his child in the first place) and they always technically follow his rules. Patrol, however, is a different story, especially with you and Tim’s patrol routes being forcefully torn apart during the holidays by Batman (he who is allergic to songs and had Mariah Carey blasted in his ear after he had just fallen asleep as a consequence of his actions) after you two were karaoking christmas songs to Calendar Man. 

And unfortunately, as much as you were good in your own right, Mr. Freeze hates you a little too much. Enough to ambush your patrol route with his very own version of your Christmas Gift, which led to a one-sided bicker contest, while you taunted him and Mr. Freeze kept hitting you time and time again. He had decided to do this at the end of what you called the longest patrol of your life, with you already somewhat injured and exhausted, because of course he had! You were his favourite one in Gotham. Unable to land any hits on him—listen, it was his new fancy ice device, okay? That thing did not let you get near him at all, plus you didn’t want to take him solo while already sporting a few injuries—you just continued to play a game of taunt and dodge while requesting Oracle for back up.

And just as you slipped on the ice, Mr. Freeze screamed in a pitch that made you wonder if Mariah Carey was just him facetuned. Looking up from your position, you saw Tim as Red Robin, absolutely kicking his ass. The look on his face was feral, and in all seriousness, kind of scared you because just for a moment there, Tim looked like he was out for blood. Things progressed in a blur after that, and you remained unable to get that look of his out of your head. Even as Bruce reprimanded you for being reckless earlier, even as Alfred checks you for a concussion, Tim’s face just stays there. The man himself can tell something is wrong, of course he can, he’s Tim Drake and he’s been standing next to you since you got back. You reckon he also knows you won’t tell him what’s genuinely wrong since it’s you and you never do, so he does the best he can and silently motions for you to follow him back home for your original ritual. It’s the best he can do because the only thing he wants to do right now is get that frown off your face, and anything works, as long as you’re smiling and okay. 

The hesitation that precedes your agreement isn’t lost on him, but Tim decides that he can delve on it when you two aren’t together and all he has in front of him is the memory of your arms around his body. 

There’s something largely different about that night, you realise, as you snuggle into his blanket at his apartment. The fireplace is lit up for the first time in years, your stocking is up right besides Tim’s and he’s not gone to roll a blunt, but you collect the hot chocolate you two ordered. Your hair is wet from the shower earlier and the open window definitely doesn’t scream no sickness, but the fire is keeping you warm as you desperately try to push that image out of your brain. You’re not sure why you’re so fixated on it: you’ve known Tim is a little scoundrel all your life, you’ve known he’s dangerous and smart, but that fight was different. It marked the first time you felt afraid of him. Maybe that’s how Tim looks when he’s mad, maybe that’s the look on his face Ra’s saw when the league had kidnapped you. Maybe he’s always been like that, but you were too lovesick to notice.

Despite that, however, you remind yourself that he’s the same as the Tim that fell down when he tried teaching you how to skate because you tripped on him, the same one that wordlessly ordered hot chocolate for you while lighting up the fireplace for the first time since he bought the apartment. Tim’s as full of love as he is of contempt and gods, you feel stupid for not noticing it sooner. 

You are swiftly pulled out of your overthinking with Tim pulling you into his arms and nuzzling into your neck. There’s two cups of hot chocolate in front of you and Mariah Carey’s music videos que-ed to start as the clock strikes midnight: Christmas Day. With a soft smile, you relax into his arms before flicking his forehead, Tim laughs before kissing along your neck before he gets to your face, littering it with kisses. 

Tomorrow, you will deal with whatever you felt back then. Tomorrow, Tim will analyze the situation head to toe, but tonight? You have hot chocolate and Mariah Carey to fall asleep to whilst he holds you (fully knowing that somewhere in the night, you two will end up switching with his head on your chest). 

Late at night, as the fire finally dies out, you no longer feel cold.

MINORS DNI 18+

JASON TODD claims he doesn’t want your drama, that he’s got more important things to worry about than keep up with you. He makes sure you know he thinks you’re crazy, and that he’s onto your lying ass making things up and fucking with his head. He tells himself he’s not into insane women, girls that drive him crazy, chicks that key his motorcycle for talking to other people… but guess who turns up at your door late at night trying to fuck that bipolar pussy?

KNY x OC | Muzan x Lauster (Kumiko)

I finally translated these work of mine, phew.

DP x DC: The Dead Man at the Diner

Danny has a hard time maintaining regular jobs. At this point he’s pretty much nocturnal after years of being attacked at night, and possibly just part of his ghostly nature. He’s odd, and a basic google search brings up various news articles about him getting into fist fights with the mayor of a small town. He barely passed high school and college was out of the question, so who in their right mind would hire him?

What’s a job that would work with his odd hours, doesn’t require a college education, and a possible criminal record and a tendency to be ready to throw down is NOT an issue?

Danny is a cook at a 24hour Diner in Gotham

The man just needs to be able to flip a burger and make breakfast food and doesn’t mind a gun in the face because he’s well used to it. So what if the robber was dumb enough to pull that shit next to the fryer. If he didn’t want something to end up extra crispy he should have stayed out of Danny’s kitchen

Just think of all the folks he would meet.

Sure, the vigilantes of the city would be obvious and you can’t tell me spoiler isn’t dragging folks there to eat. Maybe they notice some weird things about the cook, like he doesn’t breath, his eyes reflect light like an animal’s, or the time he accidentally cut off a finger and it was fine the next day, or maybe the time a robber shot him and he just... didn’t react

Something is weird about that guy

And of course the person I think would love a jersey style diner breakfast at all hours: Harley Quinn

Technically she’s not supposed to bring the hyenas in, health code and all that, but everyone else is to freaked out to tell her and Danny doesn’t care. Frankly he spends his break petting them and they like him because he smells like food.