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crystalflygeo · 8 months

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Morning coffee? Morning tea... ft Neuvillette + fem!reader

cw/tags: this is just SUPER tender and vanilla sex ngl. Pet names (in french!!! <3) dirty talking if you squint?? itty bit of somno maybe? idk how to tag this y'all just smut with feelings.

notes: HI I DISAPPEARED AND COME BACK TO OFFER YOU NEUVILLETTE. I love him so much, I am down horrendous I love him I love him I love him AAAAAAAAAAAAA. The self control I had to practice not to make him speak full sentences in french lmao.

The room is dark and silent as you shift on the bed, yawning. You blink drowsily and realize you were asleep, only dreaming of Neuvillette’s soft touch, the brush of his hair, his gentle kisses and nuzzling, reserved only for private settings. You roll over and rub at your face, but the bed is empty.

Hm? Where is your husband?

It is very rare for Neuvillette to leave like this, unannounced. He’d always give you a kiss, hushed whispers telling you he has some business to attend to before slipping out of the room. Sometimes he doesn’t want to wake you and leaves a note instead, but now as you look around, albeit half-asleep, there is nothing…

Did something happen? You frown.

His side of the bed is still warm though, his essence lingers in the room, on your skin. He was definitely here not too long ago. The familiar scent of his cologne teases your nose and you decide to burrow into his pillow to chase it, hugging the soft thing wishing it was him.

Today was a day off, there was no need to worry about work or other responsibilities. Though you suppose Fontaine’s Iudex’s responsibilities never end…

You sigh and cling tighter onto the pillow, closing your eyes and desperately trying to recapture the essence of that dreamy state, sliding deeper under the warm comforter and rolling onto your side in the middle of the bed, slipping into memories of the night prior.

Neuvillette’s deep voice, the delightful sparks of electricity as his hands roamed your body and that feeling of being so full, complete and sated as he slid deep inside you from behind.

Oh, how you love him. Always so reverent with his affections.

Somewhere between the reminiscence of a high pitched voice you barely recognize as your own moaning his name, and Neuvillette’s low tantalizing whispers as he urges you to come all over his cock, you barely register the soft click of the door.

The subconscious is a funny thing and part of you wonders how can he be there and in your little fantasy at the same time.

Deep in the middle of your struggle between here and there, there is a soft rustle of fabric, and then the sharp clink of porcelain coming from the bedside table, sounds that pull you back from the drowsiness.

“Hmmm… Neuv?”

The bed dips slightly with his weight, and a soft caress at your hair has you stirring a little. The covers sliding off your skin and Neuvillette’s appreciative groan upon seeing your naked figure spread out before him brings you almost alert.

You feel the warmth of him sliding into bed behind you, his hair tickling at your cheek and his breath at your shoulder as he nuzzles here, planting a soft kiss. Strong arms circling your waist as he pulls your closer, your hips slotting together.

And then you hear him, in that husky smooth voice you’ve come to crave. “Ma chérie.” He beckons, soft and low in your ear. “Ma belle…” Your name velvet on his lips. Large hands shifting your body, maneuvering until you lay on your back. “Mon amour.”

You let out a soft sound of acknowledgement and he chuckles.

Eyes still closed you tilt your head towards his shoulder, seeking to curl up to his chest and cuddle, but instead you feel his weight shift on the bed again. You whine and a tiny speck inside your head is ready to cry out for him not to leave, but before you can form a coherent sentence you suddenly feel him on top of you, his larger frame caging you, long locks sliding off his back and firm hands taking hold of your thighs, coaxing them to part.

“Let me take care of you, ma chérie.” He’s persuasive with both his touch and his words, spreading your legs gently, one of his hands sliding towards a calf where he squeezes lightly, your body soft and pliant like moist clay under the hands of a sculptor. “You’re so gorgeous… show me…” He kisses a trail down your neck to your collarbone, your chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm as you squirm a little, ticklish and aroused.

“Neuv…” You moan, eyes still closed but senses fully aware of him and everything around you. The room feels hotter, your skin simmering everywhere he touches. Your sides, your hips, your ass… lifting your bottom slightly to slide you into his lap, your legs instinctively curling around his torso and oh- “Oh…”

He shushes you gently, rolling his hips so his cock slides along your folds, teasing and rubbing at your sex, lathering on your slick and growing harder.

“So good for me…”

You whine again, eyes finally fluttering open to stare at his mesmerizing lavender ones as he ruts softly into you. It drives you insane, the want, the wait. And you claw and grip at the bedsheets in anticipation when the engorged cockhead catches on your hole for a moment before sliding again, poking at your little clit instead.

“F-Fuck… Neuv, please…” You groan breathlessly, arms reaching out for him to hold onto the pale skin of his shoulders.

He hums and finally guides himself inside, the first stretch making you keen and toss your head back into the pillow. You see his eyebrows twitch slightly, diamond pupils dilating. Your inner walls squeeze and gush as he pushes deeper and deeper. Goosebumps rising on your skin, sweat running down the back of your neck.

He bottoms out and groans, long and low, leaning into you to rest his forehead on your shoulder, savoring the way you clench before seeking out your lips for a kiss. It’s passionate, heated, but still sweet and you can’t help the smile that breaks when you taste his favorite tea on his mouth, bold, strong and decadent.

As morning light filters in through almost sheer curtains you gaze up at his face, the sharp elegant lines, his long lashes, his beautiful eyes and the slightly disheveled hair, partially falling over his face. You reach out with a hand and comb your fingers trough the white and blue locks, brushing them behind a pointy ear before sliding your hand back and reaching for a horn, petting it gently with pure adoration.

“You’re beautiful.” He says.

You make a sound that’s a cross between a scoff and a laugh, blushing and realizing that as much as you’ve been staring at him, he’s done the same. “Was about to say that myself…” You reply. You see the white pupils flicker, turning to slits and back to diamonds and a shiver runs through your body, acutely aware he’s still inside you. “I love you...”

“I love you too, ma chérie, more than you can imagine.” Your breath catches with his words, spoken so sincere, with such resolute feelings.

You are his, so wholly and utterly, but he knows he belongs to you too. Irrefutably intertwined, awakening long forgotten instincts on the old dragon. Neuvillette’s hands hold your hips again as he starts thrusting into you, filling you and then retreating ever so slowly. You bite your lip and try to push closer, canting your hips to that delicious feeling as warmth pool in your gut.

Your arms are back around his neck, fingers tangling on his hair and bodies pressing together as his pace increases steadily, gasps leave your parted lips. Your muscles already tensing on a tight coil.

Neuvillette hisses as he sinks into you, harder but not faster, aiming his cock right where you want it most, he feels you tighten around him, hot warmth sucking him right in and begging for more. It’s perfection that Neuvillette ruts into, pressing over and over. His instincts on fire telling him to lay his claim.

“I love you.” He says again, unable to stop himself.

You feel pleasure bubbling up, fast, faster than you’d thought, and intense. Your toes curl, legs gripping harder around him and your nails accidentally clawing at his back, surely leaving red marks on that pristine skin. He groans, the sound of skin slapping against skin getting louder, wetter. His thrusts aim deep, heavy and punctuated strokes that hit your sweet spot with accuracy. Labored breaths mixing together.

“Neuv, Neuv… ‘m so close, please pleaseplease-” You whisper desperate, needy.

His thumb finds your clit and you squeal as he draws lazy circles on it, lasting only a few more seconds until you can’t stand it any longer and come undone for him… all over him, gripping him tightly, head thrown back with a loud moan, eyes shutting close.

“Hah… that’s it, hng-si serré…” He mutters and smiles satisfied as he looks at you, flushed and tender, whispering tender words against your neck, love and adoration pressed against your skin before his fangs do as well. Keeping his carefully measured pace as you ride the high of your orgasm and he chases his own pleasure, releasing inside you with that same slow methodical drive and a hoarse primal groan.

You both lie there for a few moments, panting and feeling the aftershocks, soaking up on the feeling of each other. A tangled mess of limbs between sheets and blankets. Neuvillette carefully rests his body on top of yours and you coo happily, combing his hair with your fingers, scratching at his scalp gently as another kind of of drowsiness settles on you, leaving you feeling floaty and light in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

Your bodies relax and wind down, putty against one another when he raises his head from his resting spot at your chest and kisses you again, short but not less sweet.

“Good morning, ma chérie.” He says, voice low and soothing.

“Morning…” You smile back at him. A little amused.

He slides off of you and you whimper, feeling the stickiness and a slight discomfort from the sudden emptiness. He leans over a little and reaches for something on the bedside table. “I brought you some tea.” He presents you the cup delicately, still warm.

You chuckle and scoot to sit up at the crumpled blankets, graciously picking up the cup and taking a sip. The tea is fragrant and sharp, the same taste on his lips minutes ago… ah, so that was it.

“Thank you, Neuv.” You peek at him from over the cup.

A warm tea and a good fuck… you could definitely get used to mornings like this.

#crys writes #I am so in love with this man NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND #neuvillette smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #genshin impact x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #fem reader #there are no words to convey how much I want to kiss this man #rub my fingers through his hair #love him and cherish him and #hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #I love him so much #he deserves the world

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jjkyaoi · 2 years

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the “eddie’s love language is being insufferably annoying” and “steve acts like he’s annoyed with it but he could not be more fascinated with this little freak” steddie dynamic multiple ao3 authors have given me is the dynamic of the Ever

#i love it so much #get u a man who likes it when u r soo bothersome to be around #ronance 🤝 steddie ‘babygirl u are sooo bothersome and noisy.. let’s kiss’#steddie #steveddie #ao3 #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #he gets on his nerves so bad he wants to kiss him SO BAD it’s so good

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ghouljams · 4 months

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Hey, your Regency!Price…I hope we get more of him but you inspired me to mess about with some pics. I couldn’t resist!

Foaming at the mouth for this man and his stupid ass shoes.

You like him in his uniform. A man of Price's station hardly needs the backing of a military uniform to hold importance, no he carries that in the proud set of his shoulders, but you like him with all the bells and whistles. You like the way the dark coat looks against his skin, the way the high collar seems to strengthen his jaw, and all the golden accents that make his eyes sparkle. The only thing you can find to dislike about it is the way it draws other women's attention.

Price holds your fan, waving it in brisk motions to keep the both of you cool as you snag two glasses off a passing tray. You offer him one and he takes it graciously. It's funny how easily you fall in with his motions, how easily he falls into yours. You reach for your fan and he snaps it shut, your own bad habit mirrored back to you. You bite down your smile and try to be more dainty when you open it again.

"You're rather popular," You note, your eyes drifting to the crowd of women glaring at you. They exchange quiet but pointed words behind fans, you're sure if you were closer they'd raise their voices so you could hear what they called you. Nothing creative you're sure. Peacocks, the lot of them.

"The uniform is popular," Price responds.

"Not the man?" You raise a brow, catching the twitch of his smile, "Pity, I rather like the man."

"He likes you."

You hum, smile over the rim of your wine glass. You enjoy flirting more than you'd thought you would. Enjoy the way Price makes your stomach flip and your skin heat with only three words. You like the way his voice rumbles low in his chest when he says them. 'He likes you.' You smile a little more despite yourself, your teeth edging against the rim of the glass.

"You like when I say that?" You can hear the smile in his voice, feel the gentle pressure of his hand low against your back. It's a fleeting touch but it leaves you burning for more, improper in the best of ways.

"It's nice to hear," You tell him, flashing the warmth of your smile his way. There's no sense in hiding it when he already knows. Here's another thing you like, the way Price's eyes wrinkle at the corners when he smiles at you.

"It's the truth," The sincerity of his tone makes your heart ache. Nothing could have prepared you for this man, for the desire he churns in you. Longing for things you never let yourself dream of: love, marriage, children. Propriety says you're never supposed to seem too interested lest gossip spread about your virtue, but-

"A mutual one," You tell him, assure him with affection on your lips. You're sure after your first meeting with him your reputation is tarnished enough, you may as well be honest with the man that ruined it.

"Be still my heart," He rumbles, his smile as wide as you've ever seen it, "you'll kill me before we ever reach the alter tellin' me that sweetheart."

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sanjifucker42069 · 5 months

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Sanji x Reader drabble

Word count: 1.5k

I am so in love with this man. I have so many feelings about Sanji, about his past, about him hiding his anxiety. And yeah this is based on a scene from Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries lol.

Sanji sees someone associated with his past, you calm him down. (Mild comfort, fluff, pre-timeskip, pre-relationship, no one is aware Sanji's a Vinsmoke by birth yet. Gender neutral reader)

It was a lazy day, the kind that makes Sanji's face stretch into a languid catlike grin. There were no pressing issues, no captain getting into the worst trouble imaginable, no swordsman annoying the shit out of him. Life was good. To top it all off, here he was, enjoying a drink in a small island pub with his favourite straw hat.

Life was so good.

You had chuckled when he'd offered to buy you a drink as a thank you for joining him today. The sound was like wedding bells to him; loud, low, and one that made his heart race. He'd beamed at you when you'd agreed, pulling you into the nearby bar.

The two of you had been chatting for hours, beyond comfortable with each other. It had been so good to be away from the others, just having your complete undivided attention. And soon enough, the sun was setting, the two of you too wrapped up in having fun to even notice.

You sighed. “I suppose it's time we got back, last thing we need is a search party looking for us.”

It was regrettable, but Sanji agreed. He'd s get the walk back with you, so win-win, really. With a flourish that made you smile, Sanji offered his hand, gently helping you out of the booth.

Life was good.

Or it would have been, had Sanji not seen it. A man. No, not just a man.

A Germa66 soldier

His blood ran cold. It couldn't be like this. No one knew his true lineage, and he was not about to ruin his whole life by telling you all! No. He couldn't let you know. Sanji could practically see how hurt you'd be, how he'd lied to you by omission.

He'd finally gotten another family, he was not going to let some random soldier ruin it!

And besides, what was someone from Germa even doing here!? The implications made anxiety try to claw its way out of Sanji's chest.

You, unbeknownst to Sanji, were studying him. One second the two of you were giggling like lovestruck teenagers, the next he was frozen, eyes trained across the bar.

“Ji? You okay?”

Nothing. Sanji was still.

“Sanji!” You clicked your fingers in front of him. “Eyes on me. Nothing to worry about, ‘kay?”

The cook didn't move, still staring at the man across the room with palpable fear. You could practically taste the anxiety rolling off him in waves.

“Just…someone from my past.” He managed to breathe out.

“And you're safe. Eyes on me. If you keep looking at him he's going to see you. Look at me.”

His shaking eyes regarded you for a second before wandering back to the soldier. You had no idea where they were from, or how they knew Sanji, but right now you didn't care. Based on how badly he was trying to cover up his fear, you were certain this was big.

He didn't budge when you tried to direct him to you.

“Sanji!” You bit as quietly as you could.

Sanji looked so scared, so helpless. It hurt your heart. Running out of ideas you cringed. You had one, but it wasn't exactly the best. But Sanji needed his crew right now. He needed someone to ground him.

With a speed you didn't often muster, you forced the tall man to look at you, hand cradling his chin. The fear was still apparent in his eyes, but ever the agreeable boy he stared in your eyes. You felt him startle when you wrapped your free arm around his neck.

A small apology left your lips.

Before he could turn his attention back to panicking you pulled him down to meet you, kissing him softly. Using Sanji's shock to your advantage you spun the two of you so you could keep an eye on the man that had your friend so desperately afraid.

Sanji gasped into the kiss, and for a moment you were worried he was going to push you back. His hands were thrust towards you, palms splayed. You braced yourself for the impact.

But it never came.

Instead you felt his strong arms encircle your waist, one travelling to clutch at your back, the other snaking to hold you closer against him. Sanji melted against your lips, a small noise of appreciation slipping out.

Shit, he was a really good kisser. You fought the urge to close your eyes, to just give in and kiss the man silly, but you had a job to do. It felt wrong to kiss Sanji with your eyes open, but you trained your eyes on the man he was scared of. The soldier was exiting the pub with a beautiful woman, him eagerly leading her by the hand while she giggled.

Once they had left and the coast was clear you began to relax. You'd love to say you did the right thing and gently pulled back, but you didn't. Your eyes slipped closed as you kissed him with a passion that scared you, after all, when would you get another opportunity to kiss the man? Sanji clearly wasn't expecting it, if the cute little noise he made was anything to go off. You relished the feeling of his lips against yours. They weren't chapped, which surprised you, both living on the sea. But, you supposed, if anyone was going to take care to make sure his lips were soft and kissable, it'd be Sanji.

You wish you could convey all your thoughts and feelings in the kiss; you're safe, you're loved, I'll follow you wherever.

I love you.

Regretfully you pulled back, both for air and out of guilt, you'd certainly taken advantage of the situation. Sanji chased your lips for a second before coming to and straightening. His beautiful eyes on yours in a moment, you watched him sigh, a more relaxed air about him. His eyes swept across the pub floor, anxiety rising when he couldn't find the soldier. You grabbed one of his hands, rubbing soothing circles into the top of his palm. Sanji's eyes snapped down to yours.

“He's gone.” You smiled warmly up at him. Sanji looked dazed, making you smile stretch to a grin. “He left about two minutes ago. It's okay Ji.”

Sanji wanted to say a thousand things, to thank you, to sing you praises, to cry and hold you close, thankful of your protection. Instead all he managed out was;

“You kissed me.”

You felt a light blush stain your cheeks, pointedly looking away from him. Sanji wanted to scoop you up and kiss you silly, you looked so cute when bashful.

“I needed to distract you, you were panicking.” You pouted dropping his hand, with narrowed eyes you snapped your gaze back to him. “Besides, you kissed me back.”

Staring up at Sanji took your breath away, he was regarding you with such genuine warmth. The intensity of his stare made you uncomfortable, and you made a move to excuse yourself. Sanji gently scooped your hand up, and held it against his chest between his hands. You blushed, looking up at him completely dazed.

“Love.” He paused. “(Name), I- thank you. You're so good to me.” Another pause, before he hammed it up. “And to experience a kiss from such a beauty? You're truly an angel fell from the heavens.”

He shot you such a cheeky smirk, his eyes sparkling, but you knew better. Sanji was a sweetheart, and yeah he could be a pervert, and a ladies’ man, and just a tad overdramatic, but he definitely played it up to protect himself. The feelings were hanging in the air unspoken; love, dedication, thankfulness. But it wasn't the time for that, neither of you wanted to have your hearts broken, brave on the battlefield does not always mean brave in love. But still, that stupid charming grin had you, hook, line, and sinker.

“Well my dear, if you ever need to distract me again...” He relished the laugh that escaped you. You pat his chest and moved your hand to delicately cradle his cheek.

“I'll make sure to keep that in mind. You might wanna watch yourself though, or you'll never pry me off you.”

Sanji chuckled, lovestruck. “Oh no, what a shame! You know I'm feeling kinda-”

You lightly swatted him on the cheek before he could finish, flustered but on cloud nine. “Alright loverboy, c'mon.”

“One more kiss?” He pouted, that boyish charm captivating you. He grinned when you pulled him down for a kiss.

You had aimed for a quick peck, but Sanji held you in place, peppering you in kisses as you giggled. He placed a last kiss on your lips, melting as you crushed him against you and kissed back with fervor. You pulled back with an audible smack.

“Wow.” He whispered, relishing in the love in your eyes.

“Now, c'mon, for real this time, handsome.”

You two didn't need to audibly say it right now, it was obvious you to regarded each other highly. The right day would come.

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #drabbles #i just love him so much man #i can imagine him inwardly freaking tf out at the idea of his crew finding out and hating him #ji doesnt wanna lose another family ;-;#n e way.... i love sanji #i have a lotta emotions about sanji #like girl....he wants everyone to be happy and he hides so mucb and i love him #once again im half asleep so this might be trash lololol i just wanna kiss him silly

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 7 months

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Bonus 6: Dress-up

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#better drawn mdzs #mdzs #bonus comic #lan wangji #wei wuxian #Its the dawn of a new arc! Which means a new day! And new outfits for our duo as chosen by all of you!#Bte; mxtx never said lwj *wasn't* wearing lingerie under his hanfu the entire time so....#It makes him feel confident! And he enjoys it! AND he looks good in it.#wwx has NOT yet noticed. He keeps looking away to give lwj privacy while he changes. This is slightly devastating to lwj #at the end of the day he's wearing it for himself but he would like to be acknowledged.#I had a blast drawing this one! Lots of reference searching but I find that part kind of fun too.#I originally was going to have references to all the outfit options but oh man it got cluttered.#I did NOT trust myself to colour in the floor. My markers are getting dry & i wasn't sure about colours.#Thank you all for support with the polls! And for all the very sweet fan art and outfit propaganda!#This one is for all the people who wanted to vote for bikini lwj. Blows you a kiss (platonic).

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starryeyedadmirer · 2 months

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✨Universe… if you’re listening… PLEASE give someone a chance to knock this guy up. PLEASE!!! What do we have to do to finally put a baby in this man😩???✨

#starry eyes #nicholas sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo belly/tummy #✨his little belly✨#✨he looks so round!!!#✨his tummy has been looking a little rounder✨#✨he looks so cute bloated!!!#✨i bet he’s so full and bloated under that shirt✨#✨i bet he gets bloated so easily #✨i just want to rub his belly while he farts his bloat away✨#✨the belly rubs that i would give this man!!!#✨i just wanna kiss it… and nibble on it… and rub it✨#✨he’d look so gorgeous pregnant #✨he looks so cute with a baby bump✨#✨you don’t understand… i want to put a baby in this man so badly✨

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starry-bi-sky · 4 months

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Clone^2 Damian

If you really think about, Damian's situation in the clone^2 au is... kinda tragic? Especially in the early months of his arrival. Like,,, think about it. Damian has always known he was a clone of Damian Wayne, that he was a copy of the blood son. There was nothing 'original' about him, not even his name (of which at least Danny has that). He was just... a replacement. A disposable one, to boot.

And he knew that, to an extent, by the time he was six years old. he might not have been actively acknowledging it -- he's six years old -- but deep down he knew. And like, he's six years old. Every small child craves the love and affection of an adult, especially their parents, and even though he knew he was clone, I imagine he still considered - and still does consider, somewhat - Talia and Bruce as his mother and father. And I really doubt he was... getting it?

Now, I know Talia loves Damian, her son. At least in some interpretations she does, and in this au she does. But... a clone of her son? I'm not so certain if she would have the same affection for baby Dames as she would for Damian. I don't think she would treat him badly, but I don't think Talia would treat him warmly either. Kinda just, distant. Colder than she would have been with OG Damian.

And, I know I've mentioned Damian's arrival from Danny's point of view, and its kind of comical kind of insane from his perspective -- a little boy clone of Damian Wayne falls through a portal and immediately attacks him. That sounds like a bad joke.

But, if you think of this from Damian's point of view? It's like he just got dropped into a scary movie. Like, think about it. You're six years old, and suddenly a portal, as green and as swirling as your grandfather's pools, opens up beneath your feet and sucks you through.

After an intense bout of vertigo, you end up in a massive, urban city -- completely different from the rural mountain palace that you lived in for the last six years of your life, and in this city, you don't know any of the language. You don't know what anyone is saying, you can't read any of the signs - you are completely stranded, away from home.

And then, to make things worse, you're facing a figure with a terrifying mask and eyes as burning green as the portal you fell through. Of course Damian's first instinct, six years old, is to attack. He's terrified.

And this figure, he's not a good fighter, but he's fast, and he dodges you quickly. He grabs your sword with his hands, and tries to restrain you, saying something in a language you don't know. Naturally, Damian is just scared. He's six! He'd just be learning how to read if he was normal child going to school.

This figure halfway through the fight yanks off his mask -- he realizes you're scared -- and looking at you now, is a youthful version of your father. This is a clone of your dad, someone you have never met but, six years old, still wants to. Damian gets defensive. This is an imposter.

But this imposter eventually gets you home with him - and he's using his little box, his phone, to communicate with you through a mechanical voice speaking in arabic. and it's frustrating. The boy, the imposter, can say whatever to you just fine, but trying to talk back is a hassle and a half. He's six, he doesn't have that much patience.

He wants to go home.

And so he keeps trying to run away. He keeps trying to find out of this hellish concrete jungle, and he keeps getting lost. It's loud, and busy, and there are people talking to you and you don't understand them, and there are rules and signs you don't understand - Damian tries to cross the street and nearly gets hit by a car. He doesn't know how the road signs work, he was never taught. They didn't get to that.

And he gets lost. And it gets dark, and Damian is brave, but he is six, and this is the worst stress he's been under in all his six years of life. He wants, desperately more than anything, to go home. Why wouldn't he? The only stable... semi-stable environment he was in just got ripped out from under his feet, literally! He wants his mother.

And it's not happening.

But there's something good to be said, at least. The imposter that looks like his father always comes and finds him, no matter what. He could have left that morning, and he will find Damian at midnight, frazzled and worried, and carrying an extra jacket with him because it is cold in Amity Park and Damian is six years old.

And sometimes Damian attacks him - he's scared and stressed and he doesn't want to be here. And every time he catches the sword. Even though Damian can see it cut into his hand and pearls of blood well up and stains his fingers. Even though Damian can see him wince in pain and bite his lip, he still catches it.

But with that little box, he coaxes Damian to come back with him. It's cold, it's dark, Amity Park is unsafe at night. They can figure something out tomorrow, please. And every time, he agrees, reluctantly. And the imposter takes the extra jacket he brought with -- a flannel, a hoodie, a jacket -- and he wraps it around him. It's warm, Damian's clothes are not that thick, and even though he thinks he might hate this imposter, he still sticks close to his legs as he leads him down the street.

And sometimes the imposter carries him, because Damian's shoes are not that thick, and he cuts his foot on broken glass while they're walking home. The imposter sits in the bathroom with him and carefully cleans the cut out, and makes sure it doesn't get infected.

There's hope you know, he still has it. His mother will be looking for him. She'll be worried. He's important to them. Damian may not be the original, but he is still a blood son. He is still her son. She will come find him. This nightmare will end soon. He can go home.

And then weeks pass, and nothing. Then months, and nothing. His family is not coming for him, and it hurts. Hurts more than anything. And yet while that happens, the boy he's attacked, and hurt, teaches himself arabic in order to speak to him. He takes Damian out of the house one afternoon and buys him new clothes, or tries to. And then he keeps buying him new clothes. He gives him blankets and gives up his bed to him until they can get him one himself, and steadily he teaches Damian english.

This boy is kind. Kinder than Damian's ever experienced, and he doesn't know what to do with it. He's devastated by the fact that he is not as important to his family as his family is to him. What do you do when you're six years old and you learn something like that? When a random stranger who looks like your father is kinder to you, and cares more about you than your family did?

And then Damian tells him he's a clone. He's Damian Wayne's clone, and he tells him his purpose - that their grandfather made him to kill him. And the boy, the imposter, Damian thinks he probably already knows that he's a clone. But he doesn't say that. He just nods, and asks him if he wants to tell his original about him.

Damian says no. He doesn't want to. He's tired of living in the shadow of his original. He wants to keep this to himself. This is his. For once, all of this is his.

And to his surprise, the imposter doesn't try and convince him otherwise. He just nods, and says okay. And when Damian asks why, the imposter - his brother - looks at him and says.

"I don't care about Damian Wayne. I care about you." And in Damian's gobsmacked silence, his brother continues. He tells him that if Damian doesn't want to tell his original that he exists, then they don't need to. They don't need to worry about the LoA going after him, because clearly if his 'grandfather' needs to make a clone of Damian in order to take him out, then whatever it was that Damian Wayne was doing to keep himself safe, was working.

"Wayne already has people in his corner, he's got Gotham's army of vigilantes to keep himself safe." his brother says with his eyes as blue as moonlight. "You, however. Do not." And he continues, and says that if Damian Wayne has the same training as Damian does, then he will be fine. He doesn't need to be aware of his clone. Because if DW doesn't know about Damian, then the LoA doesn't either.

And here's the thing. Damian would not have survived in the LoA for long. Not as a clone. No matter what, he was going to die no matter what he did, and sooner rather than later. The sword of Damocles was always hanging above his head in the League of Assassins.

That portal, and meeting Danny, saved his life. There's no way around it. And to an extent Damian knows this even at six years old. He may not be aware that he would've died, but he knows that meeting Danny was the best thing to happen to him.

It's no wonder after that, that Damian is as clingy to Danny as he is. Danny is the first person he's met to offer him unconditional love, with no strings attached, only pure affection.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc crossover #clone^2 #like god can you imagine how scared he must've been? how afraid? he just wants his mom - only to realize he doesnt even matter to her #dpxdc au #danny fenton is not the ghost king #this poor kid man. no wonder he latched onto danny the moment he gave up on the league like a leech. he's a six year old kid man and #it doesnt matter how smart he is or how mature he acts. he still is six years old. he still needs that validation and affection from adults #or from people older than him. and his emotional needs were just not being met in the league.#cue the song “two” from sleeping at last - some of their songs are very clone^2 honestly.#'sweetheart you look a little tired. when did you last eat? come in and make yourself right at home. stay as long as you need.'#'tell me is something wrong? if something's wrong you can count on me'#'its okay if you can't find the words. let me take your coat and this weight off of your shoulders'#'like a force to be reckoned with. am i the ocean or a gentle kiss. i will love you with every single thing i have'#'like a tidal wave i'll make a mess. or calm waters if that serves you best'#'i will love you without any strings attached'#like just. just *imagine* being in damian's shoes during all of this. he's *six* you guys. i've worked with six year olds and they're #pretty independent but they're still six. they get excited when they see their parents and they get upset when an adult is angry with them.#they're still developing their motor skills. they're still developing everything else!

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