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randomfoggytiger · 9 hours

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The Scully Family In-Depth (Part XIV): When Nature Turns So Cruel

Leading into the cancer arc, Scully begins to grapple with the bigger questions: her place in Mulder's life, and what she wants that place to be.

In Season 4, not only does Mulder express himself more openly-- crying on her shoulder for the first time in Herrenvolk, voicing his fantasy of a better life in Home, relying on her completely in Teliko, anguishing over soulmates in The Field Where I Died, hugging her proudly in Terma, leaning on her solely in Paper Hearts-- but the cases themselves no longer bear a passing resemblance: they directly mirror her current experiences. It creates an inescapable glass to look into and constantly compare with: which decisions led her here, and how (and if) she can escape them.

The files are Scully's job, but her loyalty lies with Mulder (her vow in Tooms proves that quite clearly); and insecurity over that loyalty harkens back to her childhood dynamic with the late Captain Scully: "There are other fathers," she tells Ed Jerse darkly in Never Again.

However. I wanted to focus this analysis on the slowly begun but quickly ended arc supplanted by Never Again and the events after Memento Mori.

THE HEART OF THE HOME

Home is a complex episode, factoring in not only Scully’s family dynamics but Mulder’s as well (to be discussed at length another time.)

After the closeted baby autopsy, Scully and Mulder walk out of the sheriff’s department just as a happy family and their giggly baby stroll by. Scully’s first remarks, however, are filtered out through the lens of mangled hopes and cruel twists of life.

“Imagine how a woman’s hopes and dreams for her child, and then Nature turns so cruel. What must a mother go through?” she ruminates in a distanced tone, indicating that this is the first time she's given serious thought to the subject.

What must a mother go through particularly stands out: Scully hadn’t forayed into these maternal or domestic waters before, it seems-- working hard to achieve medical school, then a doctor’s degree, then recruitment, then field agent with the FBI’s best and brightest. In The Jersey Devil, she was shown to be good with kids; but it was Ellen who pushed her towards planning the next step, and Scully who stated she’d need a man first. So, Dana Scully is over three years in on the files with at least three relationships under her belt (discounting Ethan Minette and whatever she and Mulder have) but still hadn’t paused to ponder or plan what motherhood and its hopes and dreams would hold for her… until today. And to have this brought to her attention now, during these dire circumstances, hits closer to home than Scully would like.

“Apparently not much in this case if she’d just throw it out with the trash,” Mulder counters, quietly waiting for his partner’s response when she maintains eye contact while slowly sitting down.

Scully remains/is momentarily silent, sorting through the real reason this case and these hopes are so impactful.

“I guess I was just… projecting on myself,” she admits-- vulnerably honest.

Mulder is immediately puzzled and concerned-- and his first question isn’t 'You want kids?' but instead, “Why, is there a history of genetic abnormalities in your family?” It’s a blend of his usual curiosity, morbid fascination, and something else.

Scully picks up on that something else, “No”ing his question softly and staring at him with more personal interest.

He then gives her a crack-- “Well, just find yourself a man with a spotless genetic makeup and a really high tolerance for being second-guessed and start pumping out the little uber scullies”-- a smile, and a light backrub to soothe away any lingering worries.

In a turnabout equal to an Olympic gold medalist, Scully twists the question around on him: “What about your family?”

“Hm?” Mulder responds, testing to see if his nonanswer will shake her off his tail.

It doesn’t: Scully remains locked onto his face, expecting a straight answer. One might say, needing one.

“Well, aside from the need for corrective lenses and the tendency to be abducted by extraterrestrials--” here Scully turns away, grinning to herself over Mulder’s Mulderness reasserting itself, “--involved in an international governmental conspiracy--” here a shade of disappointment passes over her face, “--the Mulder family passes genetic muster,” here he finishes, adding a comedic muscle flex to farm a smile from his partner.

She smiles, soaking in his unspoken subtext.

In his own way, Mulder has stated exactly where he stands: he can fantasize about settling down in a place like Home, tease her about pumping out the uber scullies, even include his family genetics in with the joke, but all under the context of hypotheticals. Mulder can’t have a normal life until he’s righted the wrongs of his past, saved the world, and gotten the girl. (It’s not until The Unnatural and Amor Fati that he finds "the mystery of the heart" and "another life, another world" can coincide with this one.) Most importantly, Mulder himself is not ready: playing with a baseball while she takes notes, bantering about family history while Scully turns reflectively inward, planning for unreachable hypotheticals (with her in them, yes, but unreachable all the same), and joking them both out of more dangerous, personal topics they've yet to address.

Scully is amused at his antics; but she is also searching for something from him he can’t (she assumes) provide. It’s wisest not to take his oddities or indiscretions personally, to smile over his endless unquenchable, unattached zest for life; but there is a loneliness-- one that is a choice-- that feels isolating, that leads her to question her own choices and outcomes (i.e. Never Again, Milagro, all things.) “You are Ahab”, she told him once on a rock; and her self-inflicted sacrifices to that cycle (posts here and here) stem back to being Captain William Scully, Sr.’s best first mate-- “There are other fathers”, after all.

Mulder watches her closely; and, sensing her withdrawal, opens up, revealing that he does, indeed, understand more than he lets on.

“Scully, that child inside is a tragedy." It's a simple statement spoken with feeling; and Scully responds to it.

But his theory over young, scared kids abandoning their unwanted child switches her gears; and she pivots their conversation quickly into her disagreements.

For the second time, family talk pops up in Mayberry.

Scully, having wrapped up the adult conversation for the night, glances over at her boy-in-a-thiry-some-year-old-body partner wrangling with the fuzzy tv set, smiling in spite of herself.

At her approach, Mulder puts distance between them-- but not because of romantically blurred lines, no, no; but because she might mess with the static on his chosen channel.

Thoroughly unimpressed, Scully cracks, “You still planning on making a home here?”

“Not if I can’t get the Knicks game,” he deflects, pointing the antennae carefully at her forehead for maximum kid antics.

Having had enough for the night, she walks off. “Well, just as long as brutal infanticide doesn’t weigh into your decision.”

He picks up on, and is annoyed by, her undercurrent of condescension, shooting a “Goodnight, Mom,” parting shot.

Scully is pulled up short, her eyes asking if he’d said what he’d said and challenging him to repeat it. Mulder turns away-- not interested in further petty sniping but refusing to give up the ground he’s gained.

She doesn’t call his bluff, deciding to drop further antagonism and just go to bed.

However, there is a snag.

“Mulder, this lock is broken,” she says, head down as she fidgets it back and forth.

Her partner whips back around, lowering his arms for the first time in a defensive, attentive position. He plays it off with a joke-- “You don’t have to lock your doors around here”-- and Scully buys it; but his posture reflects how aware he is of the sudden lack of boundaries in this cozy, folksy, family-livin’ town.

After she shuts the door behind her, Mulder doesn’t stop looking at the lock (visibly weighing his options by stretching out the antenna.) Blinking away his thoughts, he moves quickly over to the table, grabbing and wedging a chair under the opportunity of temptation.

If that’s not symbolism for the next few years for Scully, I don’t know what else is.

The third mention of family-- specifically, of Scully’s family-- occurs in the Peacocks’ field.

“There some secret farmer trick to gettin’ these things moving?” Mulder grunts, giving another forceful shove against the mountain of pigs they have to move.

“I don’t know,” she whispers, exasperated, before receiving a stroke of genius. “Na ram you!” she warbles, louder for the second, “Na ram you!”

“Yeah, that’ll work,” Mulder pipes from behind a particularly large hog.

“I babysat my nephew this weekend,” she explains, applying more force to the hind quarters in front of her. “He watches Babe fifteen times a day.”

“And people call me ‘Spooky’.”

Besides a cameo in Beyond the Sea, this is the first canonical reference Scully has made to her nephew. Although there was a profound lack of show bible on The X-Files, the details-- or lack thereof-- that they retained are interesting to gnaw on.

As discussed in the previous parts here and here, Scully’s two brothers were at her father’s funeral with their wives; but as we know in A Christmas Carol, Bill Scully has yet to have children (unless one got bushwacked and we were never told.) If that’s the case, then nephew Scully has to be Charlie’s boy… which leaves the other boy at the funeral unaccounted for. (Is he Forgotten Nephew? Step Nephew? Who knows?)

Once inside the house, Mulder zeroes in on an Elvis Presley article and Mrs. Peacock’s skid marks while Scully pieces together who Mrs. Peacock is-- another example of their disparate frequencies.

“Mrs. Peacock?” Scully begins. “Mrs. Peacock… you are in immediate need of medical attention. Agent Mulder and I are here to help you.”

“This is our home! Why leave it?”

After the argument for medical attention leads them nowhere, Mrs. Peacock stares into the middle distance, fondly (and a bit lustfully) talking about her sons. “They’re such good boys.”

“Mrs. Peacock, they murdered Sheriff Taylor and his wife. And Deputy Pastor.”

Fired up, Mrs. Peacock rebukes, “I can tell you don’t have no children.”

Scully withdraws, a mixture of stinging confusion and horrified disgusts playing across her face.

“Maybe one day you’ll learn,” the matriarch continues, “the pride. The love. When you know your boy would do anything for his mother.”

Disgust outweighing everything, Scully looks away and licks her lips to compose herself.

Then the boys break in; and chaos ensues.

There is no resolution here about family for Mulder and Scully, the topic and undertones being dropped in favor of a death brawl and subsequent escape. But mothers and their children, death and loss ties very neatly into her and her mom's conversation in Memento Mori. Nature’s cruel twists of life, uh, find a way.

REMEMBER DEATH

While not tangentially related to the Scully family, her opening monologue in Memento Mori sets the stage for Scully's equal parts reticence and openness in the cancer arc, culminating in the interactions between her, Maggie, and Bill in Gethsemane and both Redux episodes.

"For the first time I feel time like a heartbeat. The seconds pumping in my breast like a reckoning. The ruminous mysteries that once seemed so distant and unreal threatening clarity in the presence of a truth entertained not in youth, but only in it's passage.' I feel these words as if their meaning were weight being lifted from me, knowing that you will read them and share my burden as I have come to trust no other. That you should know my heart, look into it, finding there the memory and experience 'that belong to you, that are you, is a comfort to me now as I feel the tethers loose and the prospects darken for a continuance of a journey that began not so long ago, and which began again with a faith shaken and strengthened by your convictions. If not for which I might never have been so strong now as I cross to face you and look at you incomplete, hoping that you will forgive me for not making the rest of the journey with you."

Scully is diagnosed with brain cancer; and calls Mulder to jump headlong into an investigation regarding the dying MUFON women she’d met last year-- all without calling her mother or family first. We find out in Gethsemane that she hadn’t wanted any of her family told, and are left to assume Maggie found out only because of how debilitating Dr. Scanlon’s chemo treatment was expected to be. Their confrontation here is extremely telling: it reveals how much Maggie relies on her daughter, how aware Scully is of this, and how the chasm between them begins to grow as Scully attempts to always be her mother’s “strong one.”

Scully tells Mulder she needs him to bring over her travel bag and “to call my mother and ask her to bring up some things to the hospital.”

Thus enters Maggie: hurt and angry and terrified. “Dana!” she greets, soft and breathless.

“Hi, Mom,” Scully responds, her voice younger as she slips back into mother-daughter comfortability.

Overwhelmed, her mother waits until Scully introduces her to Dr. Scanlon, then begins rambling. “I drove,” she explains, trying to disguise the shake in her voice by talking a bit faster. “I was gonna take the shuttle but it’s only an hour or more by car. Can you imagine?” Dropping off her bag, Maggie draws back to her daughter’s bedside while nervously fiddling with her ear and sniffling.

“Mom, I’m fine,” Scully assures.

At that, Maggie’s face drops-- perhaps relief, perhaps fury at Scully’s denial. Or both.

“I’m going to be fine-- I’m just here for treatment,” Dana continues, gracefully gliding over the change of expression. When Dr. Scalon announces his departure, she gives him a tight, polite smile, well-trained and mannered even in a crisis.

Maggie, however, doesn’t react, letting the man pass without so much as a cursory glance over.

The two Scully women are alone; and Dana shifts her eyes away, then drops her head, steels her shoulders, and lifts her eyes back up to Maggie, anticipating a storm. And she's right.

“Mom, I know what you’re gonna say, but… I don’t have any experience being sick,” she stalls, knowing her mother’s wrath is coming in hot.

Maggie remains silent, taking off her coat and folding it with heavy, precise movements while looking down.

Scully scoots froward, trying to reassure her with a little, unconcerned shrug.

Looking up, Maggie locks eyes, holding herself tightly. “I don’t know why you didn’t tell me.”

Embarrassed and guilty, Scully looks down, swallowing as she prepares herself for what’s coming.

“I don’t know why you didn’t tell me immediately!” her mother explodes, betrayal radiating from her stiff spine and locked jaw as she slams her coat on her purse.

Chastised, Scully looks down once more, willing to let Maggie vent the anger that has accumulated since Mulder’s call the night before. It takes the wind out of Mrs. Scully’s sails; and she folds in on herself, trying again to regain control.

“I wanted to get all the answers first,” Scully says, quietly; and Maggie walks over slowly, nodding as she takes a closer stand by her daughter’s side.

“And you found them here?”

Scully hasn’t. “I have found some clarity,” she cryptically replies. “And maybe a way to fight back.” With that, she raises her head and waits for her mother to look back at her again.

Quite the interesting shift we observe here: we the audience know Scully always run to Mulder-- or Melissa-- before her mother (i.e. The Blessing Way and A Christmas Carol, respectively); but Maggie, it appears, wasn’t aware of this dynamic. To Maggie, her baby girl always came to her first for love and advice or council; and she doted on her baby accordingly. She likely didn’t support Dana’s transfer to the FBI but still helped mend her daughter and her husband’s relationship; she trusted her youngest daughter’s judge of character in Fox Mulder, Albert Hosteen, and Walter Skinner (posts here and here); and she talked her daughter down from a paranoid episode when Dana ran to her for safety (post here.) But last night, she found where she placed on Scully’s priority list: second, if unavoidable. And that crushed her.

Flexing her jaw against the trembling in her lips, Maggie finally looks back at her daughter. “I don’t want to be kept in the dark,” she warns, refusing to let the matter rest, no matter how much Dana is skirting it.

Scully lets a bit of her control go, allowing a shade of vulnerability to peer through her eyes. “I know, Mom.”

Maggie, unable to hold back her fear any longer, covers her mouth before leaning in for kiss on the cheek.

Unable to keep her own self-control complete once enveloped in a hug, Scully almost cracks, clutching desperately at her mom’s shirt for a split second to battle away the impulse to cry.

“You have always been the strong one,” Maggie affirms: a blessing and a burden for Dana Scully. Beginning to sob, she adds, “But you are my only daughter now.”

“I know,” Scully answers, resolved.

To Maggie, strength is not separate from open emotions, tears, and vulnerability; but to Scully, fragile emotions are akin to weakness. This, therefore, places mother and daughter in opposite positions-- mother wanting to share in grief and weakness, and daughter wanting to shield them both against it. Maggie desperately wants Scully to open herself, needing that mother-daughter relationship she has only with Dana now; and Scully desperately seeks to avoid that openness, viewing it as dangerously unstable territory while she gathers strength to help her loved ones.

In canon, it's hard to find Scully harboring blame for Melissa's death after her initial burst of blame in Paper Clip. The knowledge that her sister was killed in her place must weigh heavily; but inferences have to be made about the level of guilt she carries, if at all. She was given a form of closure by turning in Luis Cardinale-- though imperfect, since his was killed before facing justice-- and we know she has fond memories of her sister in A Christmas Carol and a shade of remembrance in all things. Most often, the body count of the mission falls on Mulder's shoulders, with Scully firmly convinced the men who pull the trigger are the ones that bear responsibility.

Knowing all this, it would not, however, be easy to face her mother's pain and fright after her abduction, disgraced disappearance, sister's death, and government-inflicted brain cancer.

Maggie Scully breaks down, clinging to her daughter in anguish.

CONCLUSION

There is none, really-- other than the knowledge that this mini arc pales in comparison to the other family work tackled in Season 4.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

#txf #meta #The Scully Family In-Depth #In-Depth #Part XIV #When Nature Turns So Cruel #Scully #Mulder #Maggie Scully #S4 #Home #Memento Mori #xfiles #x-files #the x files #xf meta #mine #thoughts

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codename-mom · 2 days

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Cookie jar

Summary: The team is on the field without Hotch who's on a leave for some days, but they have to call him anyway. Suddenly, something happens and everybody worry about Jack.

Characters: BAU team and Jack Hotchner

Contents: TW a child is hurt (but everything is fine) and a tiny bit of angst because can't be anything else but anxious.

This is a text written for the KidFic CM challenge organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

The team had gathered in the room the police had assigned them – a cubbyhole, so to speak, cluttered with cardboard boxes and mops – and Derek dialed Hotch's cell phone number. The latter was on leave for a few days. His men were reluctant to call him when he did, so that he could enjoy his time away from Quantico to the full, but they had no choice. The first clues found in the field echoed those of an old case the director and Jason Gideon had worked on in the past. As the latter had vanished into thin air, they could only contact the former.

He picked up after several rings.

“Hotch?”

“One moment, he stopped him on the spot. Jack, I said no. I’m coming back.”

Morgan had put his phone on speaker so that everyone could follow the conversation, and so they all heard the TV gradually fading away, until it was almost muffled. They imagined he must have gone to his bedroom, or some other room where he could close the door behind him.

“What's the matter?” he asked, in an annoyed tone.

“Sorry to bother you,” apologized Emily, trying to appease him.

It wasn't certain that this impromptu call was the cause of his irritation, but if in doubt, it was best to try and smooth things over.

“Tell me,” he ordered, his intonation unchanged.

“We've potentially got a resurrected serial killer,” the ex-policeman attested.

“If I tell you: branding on the shoulder, chains on the ankles and whipping. Does it speak to you?” went on Dave, next to him.

A silence passed, during which he had to return to his memories.

“… Yes, but the culprit was sentenced to life.”

“Actually, he passed away last month, Derek clarified. But the last victim was killed on Monday.”

“His accomplice was released for good behavior last year, but his file disappeared, Prentiss explained from across the table. Can you remember his name?”

“I imagine you've already searched the digital archives for this information.”

“Affirmative, confirmed Penelope, who had come with them for the occasion. And there’s nothing. The guy just disappeared.”

The agency manager fell silent again. For a long time. The profilers stared at each other, tense.

“Hotch?” impatiently asked Morgan.

“Just a moment, I'm trying to remember, thundered his superior. His name was… De…”

A loud crash and a breaking glass could be heard in the background, and everyone froze as the giant shouted:

“Jack!”

A door opened and footsteps moved away from the handset. Clearly, the giant had left his phone behind. Tension gripped the whole group, their senses on the alert and their hearts pounding against their ribs.

“Did we kill tiny-Hotch?” moaned Garcia, on the verge of tears.

In the distance, the voice of the father calling his son made them fear the worst. Then the little boy started screaming at the top of his lungs, and everyone shuddered.

“Apparently not,” ironized Emily, who wasn't putting up much more of a fight than her colleagues.

“What do I do? wondered Derek, unsettled by the situation. I hang up?”

“Maybe he'll come back to us,” Spencer stated uncomfortably.

“I don't think so,” objected JJ, listening intently to the distant din.

“Why?”

“This is clearly the cry of a child in real pain.”

As the only mother in the unit, they trusted her judgment without a hesitation.

“Well, maybe I'll hang up now,” voiced Morgan, ready to press the button.

“Wait,” advised Rossi.

Jack was still crying loudly, perhaps a little quieter than a few moments earlier, but more importantly, they noticed that the sound was now moving. And he grew weaker and weaker until he disappeared completely.

“It sounded a lot like a door slamming,” Prentiss claimed, her eyebrows furrowing.

“You can hang up now,” Dave confirmed.

Derek obeyed sighing. He hadn't expected such a turn of events and now felt guilty about what had just happened. He knew the kid a little and he was always delighted to see him, his eyes shining with admiration every time. Like his counterparts, he didn't know what had occurred, but feared that something grave had happened, which would leave neither the child nor its progenitor unscathed.

“It could have been worse,” pointed out JJ.

Everyone looked at her, bewildered.

“Are you kidding? Retorted the brunette. I don't know what’s going on, but it's serious enough that Hotch left with him.”

“Yes, but Jack was crying.”

“So what?” inquired Morgan, confused.

“That means he was conscious,” Reid attested confidently.

The man who had taken over the leadership of the team when Aaron was absent took a long breath and ordered his peers to get back to work in spite of everything. They worked with this question in the back of their minds: how was Jack doing? Based on the thin clue left by their superior, they searched, groped, and modified their profile until they found a certain Denis Porter, who turned out to be their unsub. All this in record time. Since they were in the neighboring state, they returned to the Quantico offices while it was still daylight. Immediately, the worry that had been nagging them all came back to mind, and synchronously, they looked at their phones. None of them had received a message, which didn't reassure them at all.

“Penelope, do you have any way of knowing which hospital he was admitted to?” inquired JJ.

“Why do you ask? teased her colleague, who immediately took to her keyboard. I'll do it right away, my little ones.”

She typed the toddler's first and last names into her search engine and the result appeared almost instantly on her screen. All gathered around the analyst in her colorful lair, they read the information at the same time.

“Let's go,” commanded Emily, leading the way.

A few minutes later, they jumped in two Bureau SUVs and headed for downtown Washington DC, following the itinerary on their GPS. They parked quickly and hurried to the reception desk. The nurse behind the counter was somewhat surprised to see the herd arrive, armed and determined, but was reassured to see Derek's warm smile. She directed them to the pediatric emergency room on the other side of the building. Together, they made their way through the corridors until they reached another admissions department, where they were given the room number.

They shared a similar fear at this moment. They dreaded discovering the state of the youngster and prayed the titan wasn’t ready to drop again. He'd already suffered enough; he didn't deserve to be in even worse shape. Morgan didn't have the courage to knock on the door, which was ajar but not wide enough for them to see what was going on inside. Rossi did it for him.

“Knock, knock!”

“Come in,” Hotch reacted, in his usual tone.

They took a few steps and saw the boy lying on a bed, in a hospital gown, his head turbaned, but grinning from ear to ear. His father was sitting in a chair on the other side of the bed, and a brief chuckle lifted the corner of his lips. Relieved, all the agents took Jack in their arms one after the other – except Spencer, who simply banged his fist against his. The girls added a kiss on his cheek and told him he was very brave. The effusive reunion over, Aaron declared:

“Denis Porter.”

“Yes, we found him,” Dave replied, squeezing his shoulder.

“Good.”

He didn't have the expression of someone satisfied with their work. He still looked distressed.

“What happened?” said JJ, asking aloud the question they'd all been asking themselves.

“Mister wanted a cookie. I pointed out to him that it wasn't the right time, but he waited until my back was turned to take one.”

“And?” bounced Prentiss.

“Well, he had his cookie. A lot of cookies. And the jar itself.”

The adults' gaze swiveled towards the injured boy, who gave them his best little rascal smile. He had no regrets about what he'd done. Some of the visitors felt sorry for him, once again showering him with hugs, while the others shook their heads in disappointment.

“Concussion?” continued JJ.

“It’s what we’re waiting to see. He has been under observation since 3:30 p.m.”

They reflexively glanced at their watches. He had been here for almost three hours.

“He looks okay, Derek remarked as he sat down on the bed next to him. Right, buddy?”

“Yeah.”

“Tomorrow you'll be a hero at school,” affirmed Rossi, leaning against the bedposts.

“Yeah!” exulted Jack, proudly.

“Because he took a cookie jar to the forehead?” judged Emily, eyebrows furrowed.

“Scars,” Reid whispered, in a tone of obviousness.

“… Guys...” sighed the three women in unison, as they saw the same victorious expression on the faces of their male comrades.

Someone knocked on the door and a nurse entered, a little disconcerted to see so many people in the room.

“Mr. Hotchner?”

“Yes,” responded the interested party, rising to his feet.

“Can you come with me for a moment?”

Instinctively, he turned to his offspring and met his irises.

“We'll look after him, Hotch, Penelope reassured him, having grasped the source of his apprehension. Go.”

His teammates nodded in support, and Aaron very gently kissed his son on his bandaged forehead before leaving the room. Without them needing to ask, the hero of the day began to tell them all about his adventures, dwelling on unimportant details, forgetting the end of some of his sentences to go back and move on to something else, and surely exaggerating certain facts. All this with boundless energy and plenty of grand gestures that definitely appeased them about his state of health.

However, Morgan saw the nurse pass by again in the other direction out of the corner of his eye and was puzzled not to see Hotch reappear immediately afterwards. He waited a little longer, in vain. He apologized to his fellows and returned to the corridor. He discovered the giant a few yards away, leaning against the wall, a document in his hand. His pupils turned towards the ground, he seemed lost. Derek felt a vise tighten around his throat. What if…?

“Trouble?”

“What? gasped the manager, rudely jolted from his thoughts. No. This is the exit voucher. Everything is fine.”

The former policeman relaxed.

“So why the long face?”

The agency head lowered his nose, dodging his gaze, before sighing. Then he lifted his chin and turned his dark irises on him.

“… How did your mother do it?”

“To what?” he reacted, taken aback by this private question.

“To raise three children on her own into perfect adults.”

He couldn't help but burst out laughing, even though his interlocutor had spoken very seriously. At least he understood why he looked so downcast when all the indicators were green. As usual, the ex-prosecutor scourged himself for not having been able to protect a loved one, when there was no reason to do so.

“I'm not sure she'd say that,” he joked to lighten the mood.

“You arrest serial killers and, from what I've seen, your sisters don't seem to be into organized crime.”

Seen like that, indeed, his mother had done a very good job of keeping them on the straight and narrow. But that didn't mean the road wasn't full of bumps.

“Hotch, what happened was an accident, as it happens in every family in the world. I did the same stunt when I was a kid and, obviously, I'm fine.”

It was the truth. He himself had taken a tin of candy on the corner of his skull when he was a little older than the director's son. He had climbed onto a chair and then onto the kitchen counter before stretching out to grab the object of his desire, which his mother had placed as high up in the room as possible. In the end, he found himself in the emergency room with a huge lump on his forehead. The images were no longer so clear in his mind, but he still remembered his mother's concern as she brought him unconscious to the hospital. The same expression of anguish and guilt appeared on his neighbor's face.

“Hotch, Jack's moving, he's talking, and he's got clearance to get out of here. So, everything is okay.”

“Then why do I feel like the worst father in the world?” he retorted, not daring to look up.

He almost replied that it was because he had very low self-esteem, but restrained himself to give him a more consensual, but no less correct answer.

“You were scared for him, it’s normal.”

“But it's not just that, he despaired, peeling himself away from the wall to walk down the corridor. I constantly asking for help. To Jessica, to Haley’s mother, to my own mother… even JJ. I’m incapable of taking care of him all by myself.”

Morgan was touched despite himself by the disarray of his opposite, who was still struggling to adapt to his new life as a single father. Not being in his situation, he couldn't really give him advice, but could always try to make him see reason.

“Hotch, I think all parents ask other people for help. My mother would ask other women in the neighborhood for advice, and some of them would even babysit us. Your mother must have done the same thing, JJ does and I'm pretty sure Haley did too. You're no more incapable than anyone else.”

He and his sisters had spent entire afternoons and weekends at their aunts' so that their mother could work or simply have time for herself, and none of her children had had the audacity to reproach her in any way.

“… I wish I could be as sure as you are.”

Derek rolled his eyes and held back from kicking his butt. His propensity for only seeing the glass as half empty annoyed him to no end, but he tempered his urge to strangle him by reminding himself that the context wasn't helping either. So, he chose a gentler method.

“Does Jack smile?”

“What?” exclaimed Aaron, raising his nose.

“Do you see Jack smiling?”

“Yes.”

“Laugh?”

“Yes.”

“Does he tell you he loves you? Without you having to tell him beforehand or giving him something he wanted?”

“Yes.”

“So, everything is good.”

The giant analyzed the exchange they had just had, and his subordinate saw his features gradually relax. He fixed his gaze in his again and, with a pale smile, said:

“… Thank you.”

Morgan's lips stretched warmly, and he laid a hand on his shoulder in return. The two men then went to the little boy's room, where his father told him the good news.

___

This idea jumped in my head after my first watch of season 5 and this dialogue between Derek and Hotch, where Derek has decided to write his own report to leave more free time for him to take care of Jack (because he knows what it is to be a single parent).

That scene was so cute, that I needed to imagine another peaceful moments between the two of them. Because we all know that they appreciate each other more than they will confess it. Because boys are boys...

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spielzeugkaiser · 1 year

Note

Perhaps some Cherik if you're fond of Xmen?

Or Hua Cheng and Xie Lian from TGCF for that juicy love story?

I feel like a sommelier, but ships instead of wine.

9/12 - Don't come into my house an make me care about Cherik in 2023 😭😭 Seriously this was my first ship ever, this is where I learned to sail!! And at the time I didn't really draw yet, I'm. Excuse me I feel a need and emotions 🥺🥺

#x men #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #x men days of future past #it was this and not first class or their old versions because i enjoyed charles depression look in this movie + his relationship with logan #also don't get me started on that movie I WILL cry it is brilliant #god this whole prequel trilogy came out TWELVE YEARS AGO #and I'm still softee #also look at them and then look at my favourite tropes and then stare into the distance because OH #I didn't think of cherik and years and I was instantly gobsmacked by love #also why does it feel that x men in general never stops to be relevant like seriously

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artificial-condition · 6 months

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I genuinely cant tell if I’ve been feeling so so so sad and depressed because of school, going full time at work, or super early and bad seasonal depression

#my thoughts #literally just struggling not to cry or stare into the distance or get irrationally angry all the time #nothing is fun or exciting #but I’m still trying to have fun before I start working full time next week #and so I’ve been trying to hang out with my sisters but they keep ditching me #I guess not ditching me but I can’t explain the importance to me for hanging out and doing things this week without crying #so they went and did other things when I’m free #and typing this out has me crying in the bathroom so no one will see #and I can’t remember to take my stupid fucking vitamin d gummies

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bumblingbabooshka · 2 years

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Thinking about Tuvok being lonely but not liking groups and not knowing how to begin a conversation with other people so he just kind of hesitates close to people or sits two tables away from a conversation that’s happening.

#-listens to hologram by the technicolors again and again and again a-#(Are you crying?) Yeah 'I've grown tired of loneliness' got me #I don't think Tuvok's a good conversationalist and I don't think he typically starts conversations with other people #Tuvok: -walks into a room and stands at attention staring into the middle distance for five minutes-#Kes (who was tending to the plants):....... !!! O H!! Tuvok hello~!!#Tuvok: (satisfied his plan worked) Hello Kes. (and now he can also ask about the plants to have a conversation)

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sttoru · 7 months

Note

Could you do a scenario where megumis daycare teacher is hitting on y/n and toji and meg get really overprotective about it <3 love you parenting series sm

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. themes containing jealousy / protectiveness.

you were stunning. that much was known and evident to toji and others around you. your looks were captivating — however, you always seem demanded to deny that fact. even when you have a husband who reminds you of how good you look on a daily basis.

but with good looks comes male attraction; something toji greatly dislikes since you’re his wife. it isn’t like he’ll be mad at you about it — no, not at all. in fact, toji feels a surge of pride every time someone tells him how lucky he is to be your husband.

the thing is: he gets a little. . . too jealous and overprotective every now and then when the harmless compliments turn into blatant flirting.

“oi, megumi,” toji grumbles as he holds his son in his arms, looking out in the distance. specifically at you talking to megumi’s daycare teacher for a bit way too long to his liking, “ya see that? mommy’s being hit on right in front of us.”

the little boy stops chewing on one of toji’s hair strands, seemingly understanding whatever his dad had said. megumi lets out a small ‘oh!’ noise and stretches his arm out in your direction, pointing at you, “mama.”

you were too busy answering the questions megumi’s teacher asked you to even realise that your husband and son were looking at you from far away. toji’s menacing aura, however, only seemed to intensify the more you talked to that man.

“tsk. . . all right, kid—listen up.” toji narrows his eyes at the scene before putting megumi down on his feet, crouching down to be at eye level with the boy. he puts a hand on megumi’s shoulder and whispers a plan in a ‘baby-language’ his son could understand;

the two are being the perfect partners in crime right now (they always have been; since megumi’s birth to be precise).

megumi’s daycare teacher was telling you a fun story about what your son had done to which you politely laughed at. in that same moment you could feel someone tugging at your pants lightly — as if wanting to catch your attention,

“oh — hi, my baby.” your face lights up as you see megumi standing behind you. his big eyes were staring up at you, fingers curled around the fabric of your trousers still — not a clue of what he wanted of you,

you tilt your head to the side in slight confusion and when you wanted to crouch down to be at eye level, the little boy suddenly starts to scream and cry as if he just experienced something traumatic. when in reality, nothing in the current scenery had changed to provoke such a dramatic reaction.

“woah, woah, hey. .” you were startled by the sudden switch in megumi’s mood — his face going from a neutral expression to one of pure despair as he (fake) cried. not only you, but also the daycare teacher seemed to take a step back from the sudden screams echoing in the area.

you immediately pick megumi up and try to calm him down, not pressing him for answers on why he suddenly decided to have an-almost-mental-breakdown-like outburst.

another switch was flipped in the toddler once your attention was diverted from his daycare teacher to him and him only. your eyebrow raised at how easily megumi shut up and went from a state of distraught to one of content in your arms.

that’s when you glance over at your husband who stood near the exit of the daycare, leaning against the wall with his bulky arms crossed, a proud and smug grin on his face — his plan seemed to have succeeded. all credit goes to his son for succeeding in catching you off guard.

“damn, seems like the brat needed his mama’s attention, eh?” toji calls out with an ‘innocent’ shrug, snickering after that, “like father, like son — they say.”

it took you only a few seconds to realise that toji had probably asked megumi to catch your attention by faking to cry near you — knowing you’d drop anything to comfort your child at any time, no matter what you were doing.

“oh, you little . . .” you bite your tongue to refrain from scolding your childish husband out in public. you look down at megumi, seeing him stare back at you with happiness in his blue eyes. you certainly couldn’t be mad at him, “you. you’re lucky you’re cute, ‘gumi.”

you chuckle and kiss your son’s forehead, bidding the teacher farewell quickly (leaving him disappointed by the rushed ending of your conversation), before walking to toji.

megumi squirms in your arms and when you put him down, he instantly runs to his dad, expecting something in return for his performance. toji did seem to have promised him something in exchange for accomplishing his mission—

“papa! papa! candy!”

you raise an eyebrow as toji takes out a piece of candy from his pocket, reserved just for his son. toji was beaming with pride, ruffling megumi’s hair before handing him the delicacy, “here ya go. good job out there, kid.”

you roll your eyes, as that was the only thing you could do after walking right into their trap like that. as per usual.

the cherry on top was that your husband was mocking you like an annoying manchild on the way back home — recalling how worried you reacted when megumi successfully acted like he was crying.

megumi giggled along with his dad, leaving you entirely defenceless. at least you could laugh with them as well.

they got you good.

#ෆ : parenting 101.#jjk x reader #toji x reader #jjk x you #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk fluff #toji fluff #toji fic #jjk fic #toji x you #jjk x y/n #toji x y/n

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bastardwhoisnamedrat · 10 months

Text

i’m like an animal lacking stimulation in it’s environment. scratching at the walls and pacing and trying to think of things to do. i keep dipping my fingers into candle wax to feel something different. (not sticky, coats the finger tip nicely like i think an exoskeleton would. it’s like more skin.) it won’t be long until fear is a bygone thought and my skin will seek fire.

#how bad is it when you want to cry looking at the front door or the windows?#the brief moments i can spend outside (an environment that's been completely ruined)#all i can do is stare in the middle distance and think about walking off in a random direction and never being seen again by anyone #the air smells different and there are so many flies everywhere now.#i killed seven and two more showed up #its like there's nothing i can do #i'm starting to think there's nothing we can do #we also ruined our candle :(#i feel like this might seem like joking. i'm not doing that.

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notafunkiller · 6 months

Text

What if I am too much?

Summary: When Sam's girlfriend calls you clingy, you decide to give Bucky some space. What you don’t know is that he doesn’t want any space. None at all.

Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, angst, teasing, language, pet names, spanking, daddy kink, metal arm kink, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 2.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I want to thank @marvelouslizzie for her help!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

“Oh, you’re alone?”

You turn your head in the direction of the voice and smile politely. You don’t recognize this woman, but she looks at you like she does.

“Uh, yes. Hello!”

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

You instantly blush, ashamed, and search for Bucky’s face in the crowd. Nowhere to be found. Damn it!

“No, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says before coming next to you. “I’m Misty.” Brunette, tall and beautiful.

“Where did we meet?”

“Sam’s birthday, but I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. You were too busy clinging to Bucky’s side all night.” She sounds serious, and you freeze, having no idea where this came from. She simply laughs, grabbing your arm with some kind of bionic cold hand for a second before letting it go.

It’s not like Bucky’s. It’s more... robotic.

“Clinging?” You ask confused.

“Yeah, you know, always sitting with him, holding his arm, following him around.”

You puff, already annoyed by this random woman. “Following him around? I’m not a dog!”

“Didn’t say you are a dog, honey. Just pointing out the obvious.”

You try to hold your tongue, pushing aside the impulse to start a fight. This is a night about Bucky. Not you or your discomfort. And she is his ex-co-worker-friend’s girlfriend. Your anger can wait.

“Alright, but how does my clinging affect you, though?”

“Oh, don’t take it so personally! I just meant to be friendly. It’s a girl’s advice. Live a little, being insecure is not gonna save your relationship.”

A piece of advice no one asked for. A take you never even considered. You’re not insecure and you’re definitely not keeping Bucky to your side all the time. You don’t… He is free to do whatever the hell he wants.

“Thank you.”

She has the audacity to laugh. “Don’t be so defensive, honey! Gonna get a cocktail, want some?”

You shake your head, feeling a hole in your stomach after she leaves you alone, and you basically run to the bathroom, trying to calm down. What if she is right, though? What if Sam heard or saw something? Maybe Bucky is extra grumpy or unhappy. Maybe he even complained…

You never thought sitting with Bucky is a sign of clinginess. You thought it’d help... he is not the most comfortable person at events. He gets stared at a lot, he hates small talk, and you really like being close to him. Gosh, you are clingy!

The rest of the night passes like a blur. When you come back, Bucky’s waiting for you, and despite your instinct to wrap your arm around his back and let him hold you, you keep a little distance, giving Sam and his nosy girlfriend a fake smile, while Bucky keeps staring at you strangely.

You even manage to avoid touching him all week somehow, except for a few kisses now and then. Your period came, and as he tried to hold you, you had to fight tears while telling him not to. You’re sick and tired and you miss him, but you want to give him some space. You’ve been suffocating him for so long... You make sure to cry only when he’s out because he might hear you even in the shower. He has super hearing after all.

You thought it would become easier every day, but quite the opposite. Every time you’re close to giving up, you remember Sam’s comment that he made a week after you met him about how Bucky always likes his space and what Misty told you, so you fight against your wish.

Until Sunday afternoon.

You’re in bed, scrolling down on Instagram as Bucky comes out of the shower. You try not to stare at him, but how can you not? He looks absolutely incredible.

What you don’t expect is him trying to get on top of you to tickle you with a huge smile on his face. He’s so adorable.

“B-Bucky, stop!” You laugh as his hands get under your T-shirt. He loves making you laugh no matter how he does it. “N-no.”

“Oh, I will,” he says playfully.

But what he failed to tell you is that stopping means sneaking his head under your T-shirt, which starts to rip a little because of the stretch, and resting it on your boobs.

“Bucky!”

He puffs, annoyed. “Why the fuck are you wearing a bra in the house, bubba?”

“Cause it’s a bra?” You ask back sarcastically, but you know this is weird. You always complain about needing to wear it outside. But inside? It’s even worse.

“Unacceptable.” He quickly rips your bra in half, not bothering to unhook it, and you feel his beard on your breast all of a sudden, making you shiver. Fuck, you really miss this.

“B-Bucky, come on, your hair is a little wet!”

“Bubba, please...”

“Bucky! Why did you do that?” He immediately takes his head out of your T-shirt, and you almost cry. He looks do lost and scared.

“Baby, do you not want me anymore?”

“What the fuck?” You groan. This is the last thing you wanted him to think. All you tried to do was to make him happy and feel less pressured.

“You don’t let me touch you. You don’t want to cuddle with me. You don’t wake me up with kisses. You don’t get on top of me You don’t hug me! What did I do?”

Your heart aches for both of you. “Wasn’t that better?”

“Better for who?” He cries. “This was the worst week of my life since Hydra.”

“Unfortunately, that cannot be true, Bucky.” You sigh, getting closer to him. “I thought you like space...”

“I do, but not with my fucking baby!”

You melt at his words, truth be told. He said it so passionately, but you’re so confused.

“I thought I was being too clingy, touching you too much, you know?”

“What? Where did this come from?”

You close your eyes. How are you supposed to answer this without sounding like a petty bitch?

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does!” You feel his hands grabbing your face so you can look at him. “It means I did something wrong.”

You frown, upset that he thinks that. He’s been nothing but kind, understanding, and loving to you, and you hate how he feels like he failed you or something.

“Sam’s girlfriend told me I am clingy... always with you, never leaving you alone to breathe basically. And it reminded me of Sam saying how much you love your space, and I just...” You try not to cry, you really do, but you cannot hold back the tears this time, which Bucky immediately reaches to wipe with his flesh fingers.

“Jesus, baby! I don’t give a goddamn shit about what they say, you aren’t allowed to listen to anyone! Just let me touch you.”

You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, and Bucky lifts you a bit so you can sit on his lap. You can hear his heartbeat, and you find that so peaceful.

“I thought you’re gonna break up with me, honey.” He whispers in your ear. “I was terrified when you didn’t let me cuddle with you.”

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” You don’t know what else to say. You hurt both of you for days just because you let some woman get inside your head, but you had good intentions. “I just didn’t want to be a burden.”

“I should be the one saying that, not you, bubba.” He leaves a kiss on your shoulder. “God, I missed you so much, it feels surreal to touch you.”

“I love you, I’m sorry.”

“Promise to never do this shit ever again!”

“I’ll try,” you murmur. “I didn’t realize you want me to touch you so much.”

Bucky lifts your head. “You know I have to punish you for that, right?”

“Punish me?” You ask surprised.

“Yeah, for believing some stranger over your man. For pulling away and giving me a heart attack. And for depriving yourself of my cuddling skills.”

You giggle. “What if I let you suck my nipples for a whole week anytime you wanted?”

“I already do that!” Bucky lifts your T-shirt as he speaks, and you gasp.

“You do not!”

“Yes, I do. Remember when I came home from the last mission and I made you come by-” He lowers his head and licks your right breast, avoiding your nipple.

“Fuck you, tease!”

“I am the tease?!” He snorts, continuing to lick.

“You’re always the tease. Now kiss me and gimmie your cock.”

“I won’t give you anything until I punish you.”

“Jamie!” You scream when he turns you around, ripping off your shorts in half, along with your underwear before placing you on his thighs. “What the fuck?”

“What the fuck to you for keeping yourself away from me.” You feel him caressing your ass for a few seconds before slapping your right cheek with his flesh hand. You squirm, gripping into his hip.

“F-fuck!”

“Count.”

You groan. “Jamie...” He spanks you again but harder, and this time you moan. “T-two.”

“Nope, we start over.”

“O-one.”

“Good girl!”

The third and fourth aren’t as hard as you want and you find yourself wiggling your ass in the air.

“Harder.”

“Harder?” He snorts, amused, and before he can bring his flesh hand in the air, you grab his metal arm.

“Please, daddy, use this one!”

Daddy? It didn’t take too long for you to get back in the mood.

“Can’t use it, baby, I’m sorry.”

“No!” You cry. “I need it, pleaseee. I’ll ride your face as many times as you w-want.”

Bucky still doesn’t agree. “Baby, it would hurt.”

“Let it hurt!”

You want it to hurt because this pain is not unbearable, quite the opposite. It pushes you over the edge faster.

He sighs and listens to you, bringing his metal hand to your ass, but you barely even feel it when he slaps. You groan, upset.

“I said slap! Do you want me to hover?”

“I can fucking hurt you.”

“I told you to hurt me!” You beg. “Please, honey! Please, please, please.”

He does it again, not hard enough for you, but you count anyway. Again and again.

“Jesus, you’re making my thighs so wet. You’re such a little whore for me.”

“I’m your whore. Always, daddy, please!”

Bucky’s moan comes somehow from the back of his throat, and the last spanks are perfect. He gently caresses your ass, cooling it off with his metal hand, and you smile. “You’re so dirty sometimes, but also such a good girl taking your punishment perfectly.”

“I am sorry,” you whisper.

“For what exactly?”

You pout, grabbing his face. “For all of it. But you’re you, Bucky. You’re the greatest guy in the world, I just didn’t want to be annoying.”

“You were annoying when you didn’t let me even hug you.”

You know that, but sometimes you can’t help but do dumb things, thinking about him. “I wanted you to be happy.”

“Well, I wasn’t happy, obviously. And neither were you, bubba. Promise me you’ll talk to me first next time.”

“I was just stupid…”

“No.” You feel his thumb all over your lips. “You were worried. I love you and I really need your touch, okay?”

“I noticed,” you laugh.

“Good, now feed me my boobs, and then I wanna see you riding my face as you negotiated.”

You fake sigh and grab your boob. “Open up.”

You’re not sure how to react when Bucky drags you straight to Sam and his girlfriend as soon as you get inside the museum.

“Hey, Buck-”

“Who do you think you are?”

Misty gasps while Sam and you freeze.

“Wow, wow, wow, man. Hold on a sec, what is going on?”

“What is going on, Samuel?” Bucky asks rhetorically through his teeth. “Ask your little girlfriend where she got her audacity from to tell my girl she is clingy. That she basically spends too much time with me. Who the fuck gave her the permission to even speak to her? So she either apologizes and keeps her mouth shut, or we’ll have a big problem.” Bucky turns his head to look at Misty. “From one metal arm to another. Wanna try me?”

“You did what? What the hell?”

Misty frowns, staring at you. “You went to complain to him for giving you a friendly, harmless advice?”

Bucky instantly grabs her metal arm wrist before you can answer.

“You got three seconds to beg for her forgiveness before I snap your hand in half. And I am not bluffing.”

Sam doesn’t even try to get between them, simply watching, and Misty immediately gets teary.

“I’m... sorry.”

Bucky shakes his head, squeezing her wrist. Holy shit! You haven’t seen him like this in ages. “Didn’t hear you.”

“I am sorry. I should have minded my own business!”

“Yes, you should’ve,” you say without regret. “But I forgive you.”

Bucky lets go with a grunt before nodding to Sam and bringing his hand to your hips, leading you toward the exit.

As soon as you are outside, you don’t even care if someone can hear you as you speak. “Fuck, I wanna suck your cock so badly!”

Bucky laughs. “I see. In the car… is that okay for you?”

You get on your tiptoes to kiss him. “Perfect.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #my stories #my fanfics

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clan-ackerman · 26 days

Text

-----mdni-----

------18+-----

🩸🩸 BUTTER KNIVES🩸🩸

Human!Alastor x f!reader

blood / size kink / bitting / incorrect usage of knives / virgin reader / fucking in general / ALASTOR IS FILTHY AS HELL / porn with plot

---------

Your father always disapproved of him. A girl like you should never marry such man.

"A radio host? Pumpkin, you need a man who will be able to look after you when you grow old." Your father had said to you when you had gathered all your courage at dinner table one evening.

"But... I love him father..." You mumbled quietly.

"Love? You're far too young to know what love is. And besides, didn't you see at the ball how all the girls were looking at him? I can bet, that he looks at all the girls the same." Your father continued and dabbing at his moustache with napkin, cleared his throat:

"I must head out. Moon is out tonight and it's perfect for hunting. Lads will be waiting on me by now."

"Stay safe." Your mother kissed your father on cheek and saw him off. You were left sitting alone at the table, staring at your half eaten plate.

"Dont take it so hard, petal." Your mother stood next to you and gently run her hand through your hair.

"A man I respect is keeping me away from the man that my heart yearns for..." You sighed.

"Does father want me to marry someone I do not love? I'd kill myself in such marriage, mother."

"Don't even say such thing. You know your father is only looking out for you. For your future." Your mother said, trying to calm you.

"Alastor is also looking out for me." You narrowed your eyes at mother. With a hard look down at you, your mother advised:

"I think... It would be better if you did not see him anymore. Don't make your father angry, petal."

You looked up at her, not believing what she had just said.

"What..? Mama... How could you say such thing?" Your lip started to tremble. With blurry vision you looked around the table, butter knives shining in dim light. With angry huff you tried to brush your tears away and stood up, chair falling over in process. Your mother took a step back:

"Behave now." Mother said in sharp tone. You took a quick glance at the clock on the mantle piece and then bolted for the door.

"Where are YOU going at such hour?!" Your mother grabbed your hand before you even got two steps away from table.

"Clearly away from here." You spat, not breaking eye contact.

"You will sit back down, finish your dinner and go straight to bed." Your mother stated, her grip on your arm tightening. What she didn't notice, was how your other hand sneaked behind you and blindly reached for the first thing - the glimmering butter knife.

"I will not do such thing. Now. Let. Go." You said through gritted teeth.

"That's it. You insolent daughter." Your mother's hand reached up to grab your hair, but before she could do so - you were pointing the knife at her.

With wide eyes, both of you stared at the knife that was between you two.

"Mother.... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean--"

Your mother looked up at you and in one swift motion slapped you right across your face. With a cry you clutched your cheek and finally escaped the house. Leaving your mother to seeth back at the doorstep.

Quickly running down the front stairs of the house, you bolted across the yard. Ducked through the wooden fence that held your father's horses out of mother's garden, and run bare feet in the field. Trying to put as much distance between her and yourself.

When you finally had reached the other far off side of stockyard, you felt like you could breath again. Not bothering to climb over the fence you sat in the wet dewy grass and leaned against the fence pole. Distinct sounds of hunters gunshots and hound howls echoed in the forest behind.

You looked down at your hands. Right one still clutching the butter knife. From holding it incorrectly in your hand while on the run, you had accidentally nicked your fingers. New tears gathered in your eyes and you let out pathetic whimper.

"Y/n...?" You heard steps approaching on the other side of the fence on the gravel road.

"A-Alastor?" You immediately jumped up. Switching the knife from one clammy hand to other and hiding it behind your back. Now free hand, whipped your nose and cheeks, unknowingly to you - leaving red streaks across your face.

"What has my darling doe crying?" He quickly approached the fence when he picked up on your sniffling.

"Its fine, Alastor. Just had quarrel with my mother." You tried to laugh it off.

"A bloody one, as I see." He eyed you, reaching for your cheek. You tried to step away, but his warm touch was so inviting.

"Show me your hands, love." he said. He wasn't asking.

Swallowing thickly you brought both hands in front of you. Feeling like child in trouble. Trembling, and both bloody by now.

"We were having family dinner. And my father was reminiscing on the previous ball. And asked if I fancied any men there-" Alastor eyed you sharply for a second, unknowingly to you as you kept on rambling:

"-and I said that there was a man that I have had eyes for such long time, that the other men at the ball didn't even interest me. And he asked who. I said it's you. And he said that I should look elsewhere. I stood my ground and told him I love you. And he disapproved. Then mother said I should listen to him. Then she was screaming, saying I should stop seeing you. I got angry. She grabbed me. Tried to pull my hair and I... I just -I just pulled a knife at her... And then... And now I'm here..." You ranted so quickly that now you were out of breath.

With gentle chuckle, Alastor reached for your hand that was holding the knife, his ever seeing eyes, noticing the cuts on your other palm. He slowly frapped your fingers alongside his around the hilt of the butter knife and pulled both of your hands across the fence.

"When in dire straits, slice the sinew to halt movement," he murmured, gently drawing the knife across his chest. "Stab and pivot to temporarily cease motion," he directed, gesturing towards the center of his chest.

"You're wicked, Alastor..." You mumbled looking up at him.

"And you should never shed your blood. Though I am touched by your eagerness in defending your convictions concerning me, I would prefer not to witness your blood spilled, my love."

"Even if blood is such a pretty colour on you." He continued, his eyes flickering across your face. Standing up on the first wooden beam of the fence, he now stood way taller than you. Grabbing your chin he tilted your face one way, then the other.

"Since you say I'm wicked-" he gave you a cheeky smile,

"I might be afraid that your parents are correct. You should stay away from me." He looked away from you and across the field behind you.

"But I love you, Alastor..." You whispered so quietly, afraid that he might not have heard you.

"You have brought a knife in bloody hands tonight. What an odd way of confessing one's love." He bent his head closer to your face.

"What a lovely thing you are." His voice suddenly sounded sultry. It was enough for you to stand on your tippy toes and press your lips against his.

You could feel his smile against your lips. One of his hands sneaking to hold the back of your neck and pulling you closer. When that was not enough, in swift motion his legs swung over the fence and he was right in front of you. His lips never leaving yours.

It felt so right to kiss him. To kiss him felt like finally quelling an obsession. Just to feel the painful withdrawal as soon as his lips traveled to your neck to leave love bites there. Love bites that bloomed the same way as the blood splatters on your light summer dress.

His hands traveled down your back, the butter knife still in his hand. Both of you knew that no one would come down this road at this hour, but there was urgency in your actions. Desperation, almost. Your hands traveled to the front of his shirt, to get rid of the bow tie and open couple of buttons.

"The next move shan't be quite gentlemanly of me, my doe.." he was breathing hard and put the hilt of the knife in his mouth. His tongue briefly tasted your blood on it. Alastor's hands deftly gathered the skirt part of your dress and pushed you against the fence. Then raising the fabric around your hips and bunching it to the side, he grabbed the knife and pinned your dress to the fence.

"Alastor..." Your breath caught in your throat as your lower half was exposed to the cold nights air.

"Too much?" He asked, now stepping closer as his hands worked on his belt.

He clearly did intend to fuck you here. In empty field. Against a fence. In middle of the night.

"No, just perfect, you're perfect..." you breathed, hands looping around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

"Lovely." He whispered and kissed you. His hand reaching down between your legs.

"Ah..." You moaned at the first contact.

"Needy little thing you are..." Alastor sighed against your lips, feeling the wetness between your legs.

It was the first time someone else's hands were touching you down there, besides your own. Feeling was not entirely new, but the anticipation was almost killing you. Your hand around Alastor's neck tightened, pulling him down, so you could hide your face in his shoulder. Breath heavy against his neck.

His fingers deftly slid through your slit.

"How.. many...?" Alastor implied, trying to shift his face away and look at you, making him pull his hand slightly away and his fingers circling back to your clit.

"Ah.." you gasped, not hearing his question and just trying to hide your face again.

"Sweetheart..." Alastor's hand slid from your cunt and instead dug his fingers in - right where your thigh met your pussy. This finally got your attention and your head shot up to look at him. You could almost swear that you could see your own debauched image reflecting in his glasses. He tilted his head down at you, and your reflection was gone and his warm eyes were staring right into your soul.

"How many men you have sle-" before he could ask the question you were shaking your head.

"None. No one." You said. "None has touched me this way," you looked down at his hand between your legs. His pointer finger that was closest to your pussy, slowly slid through your slit once more. Your head fell back and you stared at the sky. Stars were slowly starting to appear in the night sky.

"... except myself." You swallowed. Your head feeling empty of any coherent thought. Alastor's mouth fell open slightly:

"Say the word, and I'll stop, my doe..." He leaned down to your exposed neck, and gently run his nose up and down your pulse point.

Your hand shot down and grabbed his wrist:

"I want you and you alone."

His smile against your neck was almost infectious.

"Well, then... To rephrase..." He planted slow, open-mouthed kisses against your shoulder, his free hand pulling your dress down your shoulder. He moved his lips against your ear, as if to tell you something that no one else could ever hear:

"...How many of your own fingers have you taken?" you could hear his wicked smile in his voice. And you could feel his hand moving between your legs. His middle finger slowly, almost feather lightly, circled your clit and slid down to your opening. Your breath hitched:

"A-Alastor..."

When you didn't provide him the answer, he quickly pulled his hand out of your underwear and grabbed your hand putting it up between both of you. He pressed his palm against yours and looked at your hands. You did the same. Both of you could see how his fingers shined in the moonlight from your wetness coating them.

"Tell me."

"One."

"How far?"

You were staring at your pressed together hands. He was looking straight at you, watching how your eyes showed the realization of how much bigger his hands were and how longer his fingers were.

"Second knuckle..." You whispered and your eyes met his, over the frames if his glasses.

"Oh, my little doe... I will give you so much more than that..." He chuckled and looked at your hands as his fingers interlinked with yours.

"When I kneel before you, you shall receive all I offer. Diligently." He let go of your hand and took off his glasses.

"Understood?"

You nodded. For such a gentleman, he definitely had such a filthy mouth. You'll soon learn it both ways.

"Hold these for me, will you?" He innocently asked and put his glasses on you, quite lower so you could stare over the round frames. Before you could say anything else, he was on his knees in the dewy grass, both of his hands sliding up your bare legs. His lips gently leaving kisses on your hips as he dragged your panties down your legs. You couldn't look away from him. His soft lips moving from one hip, across your stomach to the other side. His fingers running between your folds, time to time coming up to circle your clit and then tease your entrance by dipping in a fingertip.

"Mark me..." you breathed out as one of your hands slid to his hair.

"That will hurt." He looked up at you.

"You won't hurt me. I trust you, Al..." You said through a moan.

"...where...?" He quietly inquired.

God, please, everywhere.

"Here..." you gently tapped your hip. Alastor smiled, leaned closer, pressed his lips to the top of your hand and then gently bit your fingertip.

"This shall mean you're mine, my love, I hope you are preparing for the consequences that it ensues." He said against your skin as you pulled your hand away.

"I was yours as soon as our eyes locked when I saw you riding horses with the hunters all those years ago..." You moaned as his fingers circled your clit, as if he was encouraging you to finish your though. Next second, you felt his teeth sink into your skin and his middle finger plunging into you.

"Alastor! Ah.." both of your hands flew to his hair, as your hips jerked against his hand.

"Shhh.." Alastor smiled against the blooming love bite. His eyes then locked on how you were taking his finger.

"Good girl." His smiled and looked up at you. His other hand joining to circle your clit.

"Oh Lord..." You moaned. He playfully rolled his eyes at you and leaned his temple against your hip.

"Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well." He praised, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He twisted his finger and you let out a high pitch keen.

"Look at me." He straighted a little. Your eyes locked with his. Opening his mouth, he stuck his tongue out. Your eyes grew big, and a flash of warmth traveled down from your chest to your legs. Your pussy involuntary clamping down on his finger. And then his mouth was on you. As soon as his tongue got the first taste of you, his eyes fell shut and he moaned against you, sending vibrations straight through you.

"Ahh...ha...." You moaned loudly, both hands moving to his hair and pulling it. He lapped at your pussy as if he was a starving man. He sucked on your clit and then you felt a second finger stretching you open.

"Please.... Just don't stop..." You moaned, your hips jerking against his mouth. His fingers picked up the speed and your breathing did the same.

"I think I'm going to..." Your hold on his hair grew tighter and you were starting to push his mouth harder against your weeping cunt. Alastor grunted, his hand that was constantly squeezing your ass traveled down to his crotch and palmed himself. His pants growing too tight.

Alastor curled his fingers forward and sucked hard on your clit. With a loud cry you came on his fingers and tongue. You yourself could never reach such intense peak. Your toes curled, your knees almost wishing to pull together. You pressed Alastor's head closer to your dripping core, at the moment careless if he could breathe or not.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckkk..." Your eyes rolled back into your skull. For a moment you felt weightless, your hands falling away from his hair, to hold onto to the fence beams that you were leaning against.

Flatly dragging his tongue from your twitching hole up your slit to the clit, he placed chaste kiss on your mound. Alastor leaned back and looked up at you.

When you had gathered at least some wits about you, you looked down at him. His chin and lips were glistening from your cum.

"You taste sweet." He gave you a wink and licked his lips.

"Alastor..." You whispered his name and in swift motion crossed your hands and pulled the dress over your head. Leaving it hanging by the knife. Alastor was caught off guard and sat back, his hands slowly starting to unbutton his vest and then his shirt.

Was Alastor intending to fuck you against the fence or where you intending to ride him in the dewy grass?

In two quick steps you were in front of him and straddling his hips. Your lips immediately seeking out his and hands helping him to unbutton his shirt faster. With a groan he pulled away and grabbing your hand dragged it down his chest to the front of his pants. Unzipping his pants you dipped your hand in his boxers.

"Fuck..." He moaned, his eyes rolling back. You wrapped your hand around his cock and gently freed him from the confines of his pants.

"How is that going to fit...?" You blurted out when you looked down at him and gave him two long strokes.

"... perfectly..." He hissed through his teeth and threw his head back when your thumb swiped across his dripping tip. You switched your hands, and raised now free hand up to your face. Alastor looked at you through lidded eyes. Gently you licked your finger, tasting him on your skin. Seeing you do that, Alastor's hips jerked up into your fist and his eyes fluttered shut.

"Lover." He gritted through clenched teeth. His hands coming to hold your hips. You only smiled at your ability to drive him as insane and he was driving you. You slid your hand down to his base and gently squeezed.

"Cheeky little thing..." Alastor opened his eyes and pulled you in for a kiss by your neck. It was slow but messy. Tongues twisting, saliva smearing against both of your lips.

You got up on your knees and wrapped your hands around Alastor's neck. However, he grabbed your hand and wrapped it around his cock alongside his own.

"Now, now." He smiled against your lips. "You gotta learn how to take it. Put. It. In." Alastor whispered absolute filth against your lips and moved your hand so that his cock dragged through your soaked folds.

With a shaky breath you dragged his cock through your folds once more. Pausing on your clit and moaning against Alastor's lips.

"Yes... Take your pleasure..." He whispered.

Then moving his cock down, you pushed it's tip against your entrance. And then with a hissfrom your mouth, your hips were flush with his. The unknown feeling between your legs made you bite Alastor's lip. He groaned in your mouth, but didn't pull away if both of you felt the tangy taste of blood.

Alastor was patient with you, and let you decide when and how to move. But once your hips started to twitch against his, Alastor ground hips up into yours. His warm hands moved up to your back and shoulder blades to pull you closer. Your own hands tangled themselves in his dark hair and scratched down his back. By now your moans were echoing the same as the hounds of the hunters.

"Harder.. Al... Please..." You moaned against his cheek, as your hips moved up and down. Your desperate cunt twitching around his cock and making Alastor moan in your ear.

Next moment you were on your back, your legs on his shoulders as he leaned over you. Your eyes locked with his. Both of you as mirrored image to each other. Hair disheveled, foreheads sweaty, short rapid breaths. And then he was fucking you as if this is the last night out here with stars. As if the coming morning you won't stop by the coffee shop where he gets his morning dose of caffeine.

The way his cock so deliciously dragged against your walls - you had nothing in this world to compare it to. Leaking tip of his cock was carving your cunt out with every push back in, and each drag of it made you clench around him. As if to say, that you need him back in and not let him pull out.

You grabbed Alastor's cheeks:

"I'm in love with you...." He said first, as if he had read your thoughts on what you were about to say.

"I love you." You smiled back and pulled him in for a kiss that was broken by your moan as Alastor gave harsh thrust, hitting your cervix. Making you lose your breath momentarily.

"More.. please..." You begged, your cunt twitching around him.

"Fuck..." Alastor moaned, his hips taking on harsher and faster movements. You could swear that you felt him in your guts. Your hand traveled down your stomach and pressed on the outline of his cock. He smirked at you, as if saying that no other cock will ever be this deep, no one ever will pleasure you the same way.

"You're mine..." He groaned. Letting your legs off his shoulders, he pulled your lower lip with his thumb until your mouth opened and he could slide his finger in. Your tongue latched around his digit and sucked hard, making him stutter in his movements as he wondered how to use that mouth of yours in other ways.

With press on your tongue, your mouth opened once more, Alastor pulled his finger out and dived in to kiss you. Your tongues meeting before your lips could. You moaned in his eager mouth as his wet thumb now circled your clit. Your hips raising to meet his thrusts. When your wandering hands were enough for him, he grabbed them and pinned both of them above your head.

"Keep them there..." He said breathlessly and leaned back lifting your hips with his.

He was fucking you like drowning animal would fight for air. And the pleasure was rapidly pulling both of you under. The way your cunt clenched around him more and more frequently, was a sign that you were close. As if not being able to stand not touching him, your hand raised to rest on his stomach, feeling the lean muscles flexing there.

Not wanting to soil you on your first sexual encounter, Alastor was ready to pull out when your legs wrapping around his hips locked him in place. Sliding his hands up your legs and then sides, he leaned over you.

Your orgasm approached you unknowingly, as such intense feeling you have never felt before.

"I got you. Just let go." Alastor said against your chest as his forehead rested against your collarbone. With a moan that stole all your breath - you came. Alastor's name tumbling out of your lips like the sweetest honey. Your body arched off the ground and pressed against Alastor. Not knowing what to do with your hands as all nerve ends felt like going haywire, you opt to grab Alastor's hips and, as if your legs being locked around him wasn't enough, you pulled him against you.

Corrupting such sweet doe as yourself felt so rewarding. He could almost feel your orgasm on his tongue. Perhaps that was just taste of your cunt that kept lingering on his tongue. His own hips stuttered and with deep groan he came deep inside you, his teeth latching on the side of your left breast, leaving another love bite to remind you of this night of debaucheries.

For a moment neither of you moved. Still ongoing gunfires of hunters and howls of hounds could be heard echoing, meaning that hunt was still on. And you could return home without your father seeing you here.

Alastor wrapped one hand around your back and gently laid you back on ground.

"I must beg your pardon. A lady such as yourself ought never to be deflowered in such a place for the first time." He said quietly against your soft breasts that were still raising and falling in short breaths.

"Oh, hush. I enjoyed myself very much so." You took a deep breath trying to steady your breathing. Alastor looked at you and you smiled at him. Gently running your hands through his hair in order to tame it.

Steadying himself on his hands, Alastor pulled out and couldn't help but to stare at your cunt that was already leaking his cum. Catching him staring, ought to teas him a little bit. Bending your legs you spread them open. Gaining Alastor's attention, you trailed one hand down your body and dipped your fingertips in your folds. Shyly looking to the side you spread your folds, making more cum leak out. Alastor was watching your hand like it was a prey.

"Darling-" Alastor warned as his lashes fluttered. He leaned to kiss your knee instead. Fighting so hard not to take your overstimulated body the second time.

"We should talk in the morning." Alastor got up with a sigh, tucked himself away and walked over to the fence to retrieve your dress.

You quietly got dressed, not questioning anything. You weren't sure what we're you to say in such moment. While you were getting dressed you couldn't help but stare as Alastor was putting on his shirt. His skin on the back scratched by your nails. Or how the fingers you had cut had smeared blood all over his body.

"Shall I escort you home?" Alastor turned to you.

"No. It's late, we both should be getting home and to bed. And besides, I know this field like back of my hand." You shook your head.

"Alright." Alastor tilted his head to the side and smiled. He walked up to you and gently took off his glasses from you.

"Not a scratch. Good girl." He praised you, leaning down to your eye level. Your cheeks immediately flushed red and you quickly pressed your lips against his.

As he watched you walk back home, you couldn't help the smile that was on your lips. The faithful butter knife clutched carefully in your hands, will be neatly stored in your vanity as a reminder.

Meanwhile Alastor was sitting on the fence, watching you walk away, with skip in your step. Once you were far enough, he hauled himself over the fance, back on the road. What you had not seen at the very beginning, was that Alastor had come with knive of his own. Quite menacing butcher knife, that he had wedged in the nearby tree.

You were almost home. You had just ducked through the fence and walked quietly across the yard when, one, so much differently sounding gunshot, made you turn back around and stare at the field where you had come from....

-----------

Part 2?

#alastor fanfiction #alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fic #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut

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miserycanary · 26 days

Text

TELL ME THAT WE'LL BE JUST FINE ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶ ⤷ next

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: the aftermath (inspired by T.S Afterglow)

tags: light angst (no comfort/comfort? who knows)

The door creaks open, the cheeriness that you usually carry to greet Ghost by the entrance of your shared home nowhere in sight. The whole place was eerily quiet with his footsteps the only source of life. “My love..?” he calls out, peeking in the kitchen where you’d usually be sitting with a laptop in front of you, the food forgotten and burning. It’s usually unsalvageable and you guys would just agree on ordering take-out while he soothes and assures you that you don’t have to cook for him.

His long legs quickly take him to the bathroom, hoping he’d see you washing up and offering him to shower along with you. The water would run high as you let him wash you up while chatting about your day, then you'd do the same to him and he complains about the “useless recruits”; the vice versa. Yet, there was no silhouette of you there. With a sigh, he closes the door and approaches the final room.

There, Ghost sees you laying down with your legs huddled close to your chest. He noticed the little hiccups— an indication that you’ve been crying— and that broke his heart. When he watched your figure walk away from him, he knew he fucked up and that he hurt you. Ghost calls for you once again with a gentle voice, trying to coax you. “Y/N..? Baby..?” He approaches the bed. The mattress dips as he sits behind you and placed a heavy hand on the shoulder he saw was developing a bruise. Just the sight of the darkening blemish almost made him throw up. He did this. He did this to you, his darling flower.

After his skin made contact with yours, you flinched and distanced yourself like you’re afraid he’d hurt you again. The way you looked at him was so.. foreign and unusual. Like he was an animal that’s going to attack any minute. He stilled at your reaction, betrayed at how could you even think of him like that. Ghost stayed silent and so did you, only staring at the wall in contemplation. Finally, the silence was cracked by something much worse. At that moment, Ghost would rather endure a century of you ignoring him than to accept the words that came out of your mouth.

“I’m leaving. I talked to one of my friends and she’s letting me stay with her,” you mumbled. The pain shooting through Ghost’s heart was unlike any other. It felt like he lost his heart— because he did. “What..? No, no. Let’s talk, baby,” he begs of you, clasping both your hands with his and peppers it with kisses, yet you only pull away. His lungs seem to not take in any air. Everything you say was inaudible to him. The only thing running through his mind was he was losing you. That he was losing the only thing that made life worth living— worth surviving each day because he knows he’ll always have you to come home to, with a smile so warm and a hug so comforting.

“No! I’m not letting you leave,” he cuts you off. The firmness in his voice sent shivers down your spine but you stood your ground. “Ghost,” you start.

| ‘Don’t call me that. I’m Simon. I’m your Si. Why would you call me Ghost?’

“I’m tired of this, okay? I’m tired of you trying to act like everything will pass and that it could be fixed by just burying it under the mushy lovey stuff. I’m tired of never getting an apology from you because you cannot communicate.”

| ‘I know that. I know I’m not the best at talking but don’t leave me. I’ll do anything. Please’

Ghost stays silent because he knows everything you said was true, while you desperately look at his eyes. The hope that he’d finally muster the courage to talk and ask you to stay was slowly being forgotten. Was this all you’re worth to him? Were you not worth being asked to stay? Won’t he at least try?

“I’m leaving and that’s final.”

| ‘Please don’t let me go, Si. Please tell me you want me to stay and that you’re sorry. That you’d do better. Please just say anything. I’m going to stay with you if you just tell me to. Don’t let this be our end. Fight for me… fight for us’

“Okay,” he whispers, getting up and leaving you alone in the bedroom you usually would say carry the love you guys bloomed for 9 years with the walls painted with your memories and milestones with him. Now it serves as the grave of what you guys were— of what you and Simon had.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: part 2 is here!! I hope it passed people’s expectations.

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist: @fictionallifestuff

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

#simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost riley #ghost angst #simon riley cod #cod x reader #cod mwii #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley #canary’s melodies

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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months

Note

OK ANOTHER IDEA

OK SO WE KNOW THAT ALASTOR IS A MAMAS BOY AND HAS AN AMAZING RELATIONSHIP WITH HER

SO WHAT IF ALASTOR HAD A FEM S/O BUT SHE HAS A TERRIBLE RELATIONSHIP WITH HER MOM, ITS JUST SO EMOTIONALLY TOXIC (especially with reader being an older sibling)

reader never tells him though because alastors relationship with his mom is good and she doesn’t wanna make him feel bad whenever he talks about her and one day readers mom comes to the hotel and reader DREADS it and becomes snappy but readers mom wins everyone over (of course alastor too). So when reader explains that she doesn’t want her mom around alastor can’t understand why and reader feels betrayed its only later when readers mom shows her true colors towards reader. And reader of course bites back (or at least tries too)

So basically angst to fluff and SORRY IF THATS SO MUCH😭😭

👀 Mommy issues??? 👀

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Emotionally Abusive mother, Reader suffering, Reader gets grabbed a few times, Ambiguous ending for mama

Description: ☝️⬆️

When it comes to mothers, it's safe to say you and Alastor had very different experiences

His mother was full of warmth and kindness towards him, doing her best to build him up into a great man

She loved him greatly and it shows whenever he talks about her

But your mother?? Your mother saw you as fucking competition and always found ways to put you down, to make herself better than you

Well maybe she should be the one who was cooking the meals, getting your younger siblings off to school on time or making sure everyone had clean clothes

Just the thought of her made your stomach flip and your legs shake

She would put you down all your life while claiming it was so that you could be a great woman just like her, but not too great, you have to remember who the better woman is

Well now you're both in hell so-

You put as much distance between her and yourself as you could, living your afterlife without her influence

You even got yourself a handsome powerful overlord boyfriend and new friends to share your life with

Even though you're supposed to be in hell, you couldn't be happier

At least you were until your mother showed up at the hotel, her face full of faux worry and tears

"Oh my precious girl! This is where you've been hiding? I was so worried!!"

Before Charlie can even shut the door, your mother has already shoved her way inside and literally dug her claws into you, hugging you

It's all you can do not to throw up, smothered by her familiar scent and grip, hearing her voice again after all this time

"Now let Mommy take a look at you-oh!!! And here I was worried that you were starving! Good to know you've put some weight on those bones!"

And it's already starting-

And now she's crying and rocking you in her arms, cooing about how much she's missed you and how she's never letting you go again

Charlie and the others are just staring at the two of you, completely enraptured by your mother, like everyone always is

She loved being the center of attention

When you finally come to your senses you push her away and create some distance, disturbed by the worried looks everyone is giving her

"Mom, why are you here?"

Oh don't everyone look at you like you're the bad guy!! She's the one who's only here because she wants something!!

"Maybe I wouldn't have to come track you down if you would just visit your poor mother every once in a while...she never even calls me, you know!"

And now she's crying again, Charlie immediately going to comfort her while Vaggie gives you a dirty look

Fucking mommy issues much? Don't fall for this crap

"I don't want to visit you, so just leave-"

"Well now, who is this~?"

Alastor! Yes! He can make her leave! You turn to give your boyfriend a pleading look but your mother catches his attention first

"Oh don't worry about who I am.. just a poor lonely mother who came to see her daughter...but I guess I'll show myself out.."

Alastor doesn't have to guess who she's talking about, even in death you always looked like your mother

His smile gets surprisingly warm and soft, taking your mother's hand in his own in a disgusting display of affection that used to only be for you

"You're Y/N's mother? My my, I should've guessed! You must have so many stories of her from her life! I simply must insist that you say."

ALASTOR NO

You feel sick but nobody notices, your mother already soaking up their attention and winning their hearts

So you turn and leave the hotel, unable to stand being in her presence any longer, you don't miss the smug look she gives you on your way out

You spend all day trying to avoid going back to the hotel until you're sure your mother is gone

You're more than disappointed to find her drinking tea with Alastor, the two of them laughing, her placing her hand on top of his

She always used to try and go after your boyfriends and that hasn't changed either

She hasn't changed

"Oh darling~! We hadn't realized you left! Alastor and I were simply having a moment~"

Alastor lights up when he sees you, only to be visibly confused by your troubled expression

"Y/N! Your mother was just telling me about her life before you! She was quite a wildcard back then!"

Your mother is practically drooling over him, rubbing his hand and winking

"I'm still wild if you ever care to find out!"

You've had it

You tug your mother's hand off of Alastor, forcing her to stand up and look you in the eyes

"You need to leave! Right now!"

And here come the waterworks again

"Y/N..! Darling, what did I do wrong? I'm your mother please don't throw me out like this!"

You just start pushing her towards the door and you slam it shut behind her, sighing in relief

That is until you look at Alastor's face, his smile seeming strained

"Y/N! You can't just throw her out like that, not only is that bad manners but that's no way to treat the woman who raised you!"

Raised you? You raised yourself!!

"Alastor, you don't know what you're talking about so please just stay out of it. You don't know what she's like-"

You're trying to stay calm-

"She's your mother, it's not like she's some evil creature-"

"SHE'S IN HELL OF COURSE SHE'S EVIL-"

"So are you and I, my dear."

You try to put your foot down, tell him that you don't want her here but he's already opening the door for her and letting her back in

She looks so pleased with herself

He invites her to stay the night because of course he does, he would do it for his own mother so why not yours

You try not to give her the satisfaction of seeing you cry but your eyes are already hot and watery

"I-I'm going to bed..!"

Alastor calls for you, trying to resolve things then and there but the only response he gets is your door slamming shut

He goes to go after you but your mother stops him with a gentle hand to the shoulder

"Now now...let her cool off for a bit then I'll go make sure she's alright, a mother always knows how to cheer up her child~"

It feels like you spend hours crying in your bed, feeling so hurt that Alastor took her side over yours

Your mom isn't like his, she doesn't nurture, she just takes from you and bullies you

Later, just when you've about cried yourself to sleep, you hear the bedroom door open

"Alastor..?"

"Not a chance, pet."

Now what does she want

"Why are you even here?"

Suddenly she pounces on you, grabbing your wrists tightly, eyes wild with fury she must've been containing this whole time

You don't even know why she's so mad at you, you haven't seen her in years-

"You think you're better than me now, is that it? Now that you're on your own, living in some fancy hotel, got some powerful boytoy, hiding behind hell's princess?"

As a kid, she seemed so strong but now you easily rip out of her grasp and manage to create some distance between you two

"I'm not hiding behind anyone! I'm just trying to get away from you!"

"Oh no no no, that's not how this works! I am your mother! If I have to be miserable and live in filth then so do you!"

"Why are you even here!?"

"Because it's not fair! I deserve to be here! Not some ungrateful little bitch who just happened to fall out of me!"

She lunges at you and you try to dodge her but she manages to grab you by your hair, yanking you back

You're about to start swinging when Alastor is suddenly there, watching the two of you in bewilderment

Then that bewilderment melts away into understanding, then anger

The radio sounds in the room are suddenly deafening, your mother letting go of you so she can cover her ears

You take the chance to kick her away, watching as she tumbles and loses consciousness from the impact

Alastor kneels beside you but you flinch away from him, still feeling hurt

"Y/N...I'm so sorry..." He does look properly ashamed, his smile a little watery

"Why didn't you just tell me that she was like this..?"

How could you even begin to start?? That you didn't want to somehow sour his opinion of mothers by telling him about your own?

That you didn't want him to feel guilty for having a mother who loved him while you grew up having to be a mother to your siblings because your own mom had none to give??

It's just word vomit at this point, but Alastor simply gathers you into his arms, tutting as he checks your scalp and fixes your hair

When he gets to your wrists where your mother grabbed than his smile turns positively venomous, giving your mother a deadly look

"What do you want me to do with her? Anything you ask..."

You're a little irritated that he brought her up, having been too relaxed by the feeling of his lips against your palm

"I just want her out of here..."

And that's all it takes, Alastor calls for Niffty and has her take out the trash, her scuttling out gleefully while dragging your mother

Niffty doesn't even care, she's just happy to have a new toy

You didn't realize how stressed out you were until it was just the two of you, Alastor rubbing your back soothingly

You don't know when you fall asleep but when you wake up Alastor is kissing the side of your face, looking as apologetic as he can be

You manage to convince him to apologize in morning snuggles and by the time you two come downstairs everyone else is awake

"Where is Y/N's mom?"

Not Niffty giggling and running out of the room

Alastor simply shakes his head and wraps an arm around your waist to hold you closer

"She is gone and won't ever be visiting again, I would like to ask that nobody brings her up again~"

Something about the way he says it manages to shut everyone up

Alastor takes you out to eat your favorite breakfast and spends the day spoiling you

He doesn't bring up the events of last night until the two of you are in bed, entangled in each other's arms

"You didn't ruin my opinion of mothers, you know."

"I didn't?"

"No, in fact, it sounds like you were quite the mother back in your day~"

Not his hand rubbing your belly

OH MAMA THIS ONE TOOK ALL DAY! I hope you liked it!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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bloodmoonclover · 1 year

Text

how long can i dissociate through the rain having half my town underwater

#almost lost the disassociation just now after seeing another bad video but it snapped back over me once i started to cry #imagine going on fb or ig and learning who of my friends’ homes are affected #staring into the middle distance

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un-lawliet · 9 months

Text

“He Knows”

— in which you’re avoiding Gojo and he wants you to tell him why.

(or i’m coping with rejection rn pls god help me)

“You’re avoiding me.”

“Huh?!” You jump back, almost dropping your pen as you turn to see frowning Gojo Satoru staring down at you expectingly, the usually relaxed demeanour he wore crumbling in the slight dip in his brow.

It wasn’t a question, Gojo stated it as fact, and if you looked hard enough, the downwards tilt of his lips could tell you about his complete (and utter) disapproval in his conclusion.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

You were running, sprinting even away from your problems.

Avoid, avoid avoid.

You refused to let it come to this, cornered in a library with Gojo Satoru, a man you definitely were not avoiding, nope not at all.

“You.” Gojo leans down, capturing your eyes in his, “Are avoiding me.”

And you’re leaning back, in your seat, away from him. Attempting to create any distance between the pair of you, unable to stand the giddy rush of joy that the proximity generated.

A moment passed.

And then another.

And deep down you pleaded, with conviction similar to that of a desperate man crying out for God, that the floor would fall in, taking you with it and allowing you some leeway to escape.

Gojo cocks his head, blue eyes scanning your panicked face before he sighs and stands back up again, resuming his position of elevation before you.

“Why?” His voice lacked the sentiment of interrogation, he couldn’t find in himself to dwindle on anger, he missed you and he selfishly wanted you to know it, to feel guilt in your mistreatment.

“Gojo.” You started, moving your eyes away from his face to glare at the book your reading instead.

Were you sweating? You felt like you were. Oh God.

Jujutsu sorcerers were not supposed to fall for another, it was an unspoken rule shared between sorcerers.

An unspoken rule that constantly plagued your thoughts when you were near Gojo. And so, you decided confidently to yourself that you could easily get over this silly personal flaw. Surely it would be easy.

But Gojo isn’t an easy man, and falling out of love with him followed that damn trend.

At every turn of your head, your gaze found his, longing for him to catch your eyes and reassure you with his presence, boisterous, like how he handles everything. And at night, when you tossed and turned, the cruel Summer heat forcing you to wither in your bed, you wondered if he could ever dream of you like how you longed for him.

It was pathetic really.

And so yes maybe you were avoiding him.

But you were doing it with good intentions!

You weren’t about to burden him with your childish wish for his unreturned feelings. Not in this world, under these circumstances, not when he was already holding the weight of being the strongest.

“Is there something bothering ya?” Gojo paused, “Cause y’know you only have t’ ask, and I could take care of it.”

And you wanted to cry.

Because Gojo Satoru is loud, and unabashedly himself, but he cares in silence, through actions hidden behind a loud laugh and a cocky grin.

“No, no it’s nothing really.” You had to do something, to say anything.

“Nothing? I haven’t seen you in days Y/N.”

“I’ve just been busy…” You mumble, fidgeting awkwardly in your chair.

“Oh yea? With what? Reading?” Gojo scoffed, his shoulders dropping in poorly hidden exasperation.

Your cheeks burned as you nodded, unable to form words, “And missions too I guess.”

“I asked Yaga, you haven’t been on a mission since September.”

Fuck.

“Preparations for missions then.” You cringed at yourself, lowering your head in the shame of being caught in your own shitty lie.

“Come on Y/N cut the bullshit.” Gojo all but whines, “I know somethings off, I know you.” You look at him then, his shoulder slumped, and face pouting, and you felt horrible.

“It’s really nothing Gojo I swear.”

“See there!” Gojo jumped, his eyes wide with determination, a look you only ever see on him in the middle of a mission. “You called me Gojo, you never do that, it’s Satoru to you, just Satoru.”

“You’re upset because I’m not calling you by your first name?” You asked, unable to break eye contact with him.

“You use to call me Satoru.” He huffs, crossing his arms.

You had to get out of there, the fact that your confession was all but resting on your tongue scared you beyond words, and you moved to pick up your stuff.

Then you felt his hand touch yours and your froze.

“What’s going on inside that head of your Y/N.” He was so close, so, so close. You could feel the warmth of his chest that was almost pressed against your arm, “Please.”

And you crumbled, because your weak and you could never escape the way you felt when he was near you, how you could barley hold yourself back from leaning into his chest and breathing in his scent.

“Satoru.” You whispered, your confession hushed, your head down and eyes closed, “I think I like you.”

And silence.

Silence.

Silence

And you were running walking away, avoid, avoid, avoid, your feet moving fast, abandoning the books you had brought because oh my god you had just told Satoru Gojo that you liked him and that was stupid, you’re stupid, everything was stupid and-

You were pulled back into him, effortlessly turned around so that your face was in his chest, the sound of his chuckling encasing your shameful state.

“The fuck are you laughing for?” You protested, unsuccessfully trying to wriggle your way out of his embrace, his arms circling you close.

“You’re pretty when you’re embarrassed y’know?”

And you had to hold yourself back from punching him right then and there, because of course Satoru Gojo knew you liked him, of course he was teasing you.

Nothing can escape those damn eyes, and he’s smarter than he lets on.

“You’re such an asshole I hope you know that, as soon as I leave this room I am never speaking to-’

Your rambles were cut short when you felt a tiny kiss on your forehead, and you finally looked at him fully, only to see the softest expression on his face as he looked down at you.

“I think I like you too Y/N.” He winked, his hand tracing the indent of your spine as he pulled you back into a hug, rocking you gently.

And you hugged him back, finally allowing yourself the closure you had dreamed of for months.

End.

feel free to leave a request !!

masterlist here <3

( authors note: do we all wanna hear a mini rant about how the girl i fucking adore just got a boyfriend and my heart is in SHAMBLES- anyway i wrote this to cope pls enjoy,,, i love u thank u for reading have a great day <3 )

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #jjk leaks #hurt/comfort #soft gojo

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justporo · 3 months

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Hear me out! Tav brought a statue of Astarion to the camp but Astarion does not recognize himself in it and does not understand why their leader spent 5000 gold on a random stone man. Meanwhile the party is betting on how long it will take Astarion to guess whose statue it is.

5000 Gold

"He's not... he's not gonna figure it out anytime soon, is he?"

"Sshhh!"

Shadowheart shushed Karlach with an angry frown and a single finger thrown to her lips.

The two of them - along with your other companions observed the scene unfolding on the other side of the camp. Right where a delivery had just been made - and quite an uncommon one.

A giant stone statue, depicting... Astarion - and almost fully nude at that.

You couldn't resist when the offer had been made to you at the carnival at the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate. 5000 gold had felt like nothing for the punchline you had been about to make with having a statue be made of the one companion that couldn't remember what he himself looked like.

And Astarion, upon discovering Tav's most recent purchase, had started to throw a temper tantrum immediately, almost fainting when he had heard the paid sum out of your mouth.

The vampire had worked himself into an outright frenzy, screaming, hissing, gesticulating towards the statue, then back to you, then to the skies. Meanwhile all you could do anymore was biting your lip to stop yourself from bursting into the biggest laughing fit of your life.

The rest of the group kept observing from a safe distance.

"Istik", Lae'zel mumbled under her breath. But even the sober githyanki could barely hide a smile.

Shadowheart shushed her as well. Wyll had just been silently shaking his head for the last couple of minutes. Shadowheart had started taking bets on how long it would take the oblivious vampire to realise the cruel trick that was being played on him. Karlach, being way too optimistic, had already lost some coin to the cleric with their estimate of a few minutes.

Only Gale who had been busy this far with some of his thousand books had missed the whole spectacle so far. Just now had the wizard realised that something was going down. He eyed the fighting trio of you Astarion and stone Astarion and then the group of bystanders, trying to decipher the situation. When he couldn't make any logical sense of any of it he went over to the small onlooking group. "I appear to have missed something? What is-"

Shadowheart hissed at him to shut up, causing Gale to flinch back with a hurt facial expression. Wyll though wasn't impressed by the cleric and enlightened his friend: "It looks like our clever leader Tav has taken up the offer of getting a stone statue of Astarion for a bargain of 5000 gold without telling anyone. And now we're betting how long it's going to take him to realise it's him."

Shadowheart stared the Blade of Frontiers down. Wyll merely shrugged his shoulders. He'd faced more fearsome creatures than the cleric aplenty.

Gale just blinked several times at him, letting the words settle. Then a grin spread on the wizard's face. "I bet 100 gold it's gonna take him at least until the end of the day."

Shadowheart's furious expression lightened noticeably and she stretched out her hand to Gale. They shook on the bet. Then everyone turned back to the two Astarion's and you to continue watching the scene.

"Why in the nine hells would you get a statue of some random guy - he isn't that... Well, he is quite handsome!" Astarion yelled at you while you had to hide your face in your hands desperately trying to pull yourself together.

The vampire didn't let up: "Well, if only it had been me, then I would have understood, darling, who wouldn't want that as a piece of decor, but-"

That was it, you broke. Hysterical laughter started shaking you, up to the point where you doubled over and could barely breathe between laughing and crying from laughing.

The vampire meanwhile went through the whole spectrum of emotions known under the sun in a matter of seconds. Angered, confused, flustered. And then finally something in the elf’s brain clicked together.

He stared at the statue then at you, back to the statue and suddenly his hands wandered over his own face as if to grasp it's lines and shapes.

"You...," he started and stopped. Through your tears you were sure you could see the vampire's pointy ears turn bright pink. "That IS me!"

You were barely able to nod as another fit of laughter shook you. Astarion’s mouth opened several times but no sound came out. A rare occasion to the see the sassy rogue so void of words.

Meanwhile, a bunch of moans could be heard from the other side of camp where Shadowheart collected her won gold from the others.)

"Why would you-", Astarion began and his expression was barely readable while your laughter slowly died down and you were able to kneel back on your feet.

"Didn't you say it yourself? He's quite handsome, isn't he? Now you get to see for yourself again."

Astarion pointed an angry finger at you about to throw another fit but then his eyes fell on the statue again. Now with knowing what it was and what it meant it shut him up immediately.

He took a few steps closer to get a better look. His anger at you momentarily forgotten as he gazed upon his own image for the first time in over 200 years.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #bg3 spoilers #astarion x tav #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x you #astarion #astarion x reader #shadowheart #wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #karlach #gale of waterdeep #lae'zel #drabble

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