#Mister 'I never had a family that loved me' would take the opportunity to have a loving sister

[flowersandbigteeth]

Your Naga Lord saves your Mother

A/N: I've had this oneshot sitting in my drafts in a while, combining some old asks

Naga Lord (Leander) x F Maid reader

Word Count: 6K

General Plot: You and your family are staff in the house of a Naga Lord. Things go sideways when your childhood friend's father falls for you mother.

W: Description of murder, yandere behavior, spitting, otherwise sfw soft yandere fluff

More SFW fics here

“Hurry up now,” your mother said brightly as she ladled a bit of porridge into a bowl for you to eat. “Master Dervin will be cross if you're late with his breakfast.” 

Though the two of you were mere servants in the Naga Lord’s home, she always fed you first before you had to do your duties for the morning. 

She glanced up as you scarfed down your breakfast, her eyes warming as they met your father’s. 

“Good morning, my favorite ladies,” he said, kissing her and ruffling your hair. 

“Papa! I have to work!” You pouted, but he just snickered, stealing your spoon and taking a bite of your porridge. 

“Don't bother making yourself neat for that snake bastard,” he chuckled as his hands slid around your mother’s waist. 

“Charles, please. Someone might hear, and we'll be out on the street!” 

He shrugged. As you finished your meal, your mother arranged the morning dishes for the Naga family on a silver cart, taking a moment to smooth and repin your hair before you were to serve them. 

Your father was sure to spit in Dervin’s bowl when your mother looked away, making your eyebrows jump. He put a finger over his lips, winking at you. 

“I'm off to the stable,” he said, grabbing an apple as he went. “Have a nice day, my pretty girls!” 

You blinked at the contaminated bowl, wondering if you should throw it out. 

“What are you staring at?” Your mother chided, pushing the cart towards the door. “Get along; I can hear them coming down the stairs.” 

You hurriedly fixed a pleasant but distant look on your lips as you wheeled the cart into the dining room. 

“Good morning, Mr. Leander,” you said to Dervin's only son, as he was the first to enter the dining room.” 

“You’re radiant this morning as always (Y/N),” he beamed, taking his spot at the table. “but stop calling me ‘mister’ you never used to.” 

Your ears heated as you placed his breakfast in front of him. 

“It's not appropriate, sir. We were children then. You're to be the master of the house and will be married soon. I'm sure your fiancee wouldn’t appreciate-” 

He cut off your words with a sharp hand. 

“Don't speak of unpleasant things,” he grumbled. 

“Apologies, sir.” 

“Stop calling me-” 

The arrival of his mother cut off his own words. She was a lovely Naga, sharing Leander’s white hair and sapphire blue eyes. Like his, her tail was a shocking electric blue.

“Stop prattling with that servant, Leander,” she snapped. “She has work to do. You're bothering her.” 

Mrs. Elanore was not a pleasant woman, but she didn't like you servants to be harassed by the males of the house. Whether it was actual concern or jealousy, you didn't know, but your mother, especially, appreciated it. 

Dervin, her husband, took every opportunity to corner her, trying to ply her with gifts and sweet words. Your mother was having none of it, which is why you delivered their meals, not her, and why your father spit in his food. 

You nodded, thanking Elanore as you served her the tea she liked. 

“Where is that imbecile?” she muttered, referring to her husband. “There are so few things I ask of him, but he can't manage the simplest tasks. He is to arrive on time for every meal. There must be some decorum in this household! 

Her sharp blue eyes flicked to you. 

“Go get him (Y/N).” 

Leander slid in front of you like a vibrant  blue flash before you could even respond. 

“I'll go, mother. (Y/N) has her work, as you said.” 

She gave him a tight nod, and you took the opportunity to finish setting the table for their return. 

“I should fire your family,” Elanore mused. “your father would be happier, don't you think?” 

You glanced up for a moment to find her eyes traveling over your form. 

“You and your mother are too pretty to be maids,” she snorted. “You'll only cause trouble wherever you go.” 

“Our family has served yours for generations,” you muttered, scared she might put you all on the street. “My grandparents died here, and so did theirs.” 

 “Just like a human,” she hissed, baring her teeth. “Servile and obedient. You’d think you’d have found something else to do in all those years.” 

“Apologies, ma’am,” you said, looking at your shoes. 

She waved a dismissive hand at you, sipping her tea. 

“It’s in your nature. There’s nothing to be done. You and your mother are good at your jobs at least.” 

Your cheeks warmed at the backhanded compliment. It was different when Dervin or Leander complimented you. She acknowledged the skill that had been passed through generations, not how you looked. You and your mother knew how to run a house. Your masters needed structure to maintain their dignity. With little to do, they would become depressed slobs if you didn’t keep everything running efficiently.  At least, that’s what your grandmother told you. 

Slithering through the wide doorway, Dervin and Leander settled into their spots at the table, and you took your place in the corner, waiting in case one of them needed something. The two male Nagas looked very similar in their features, handsome with a strong jaw and wide shoulders, but Dervin’s hair was jet black, as were his eyes. They always appeared blank and cold, which frightened you. Elanore wasn’t warm, but her gaze reflected an expressive nature, not a monstrous stillness. 

Your eyes watched him take a bite of his breakfast, trying to hide the disgust that roiled in your stomach. 

“Where’s your mother?” he snapped after a few big bites. 

You didn’t speak at first, your eyes drifting to Elanore for permission. She answered for you. 

“She’s in the kitchen where she ought to be. The servants are my business as the Lady of the house. Don’t bother yourself with their whereabouts.” 

“I pay them,” he barked, but she ignored him, turning her attention to Leander. 

“You’re to visit Iris today, Leander. I’ve purchased a gift for you to bring your fiancee.” 

She snapped her fingers at you, and you hurried to her side to take the small package and walk it around the table to her son. 

“I don’t wish to bring her any gifts,” he snorted, not even taking the gift from your hand. “She’s not my fiancee.” 

Elanore rubbed her temples. 

“The two of you are infuriating, you know that? You have one job, Leander. You have to marry well and produce an heir.” 

She waved a finger at you. 

“You can keep your little maid as a comfort doll if you like, but you will do as I have arranged.” 

“I’m a grown man, mother. I don’t have to do anything.” 

Electricity crackled between their eyes as they engaged in a silent power struggle. You stood awkwardly to the side, still holding the gift. 

“I’m sick of this! I do my very best to advise you two idiots on the proper way to conduct yourselves, and you act like spoiled children!” 

Her tail snapped faster than you could see and struck Leander across the cheek with a crack. Blood dribbled down his pale skin, and his eyes hung on her, the warm blue turning to ice. 

“I should have never married a common husband like you,” she snarled, turning her ire toward Dervin. Vulgarity and Mediocrity are in your blood, and you’ve infected your son!” 

Dervin’s black eyes flashed. 

“My mediocre blood saved your foolish noble family from destitution. Thanks to my benevolence, you are able to live in the house your family has owned for generations. If not for me, you’d be begging on the streets, pleading with your relatives to take you in as a servant.” 

“Fools,” she snarled, picking up her tea and slithering out of the room. 

“Bring your mother to me,” Dervin demanded when she was out of earshot.

You let out a trembling breath as you thought up a lie. 

“She went into town this morning for groceries, sir,” you said, knowing he’d never lower himself to search for her in the kitchen. 

You screamed as the bowl he was eating from sailed across the room, shattering beside your head. 

“Father!” Leander shouted. 

Dervin gave him an amused but cool smirk before turning his attention to you.

“Send her to my room when she returns,” he barked and stormed out. 

You leaned against the wall, panting as you mentally checked yourself for harm. Leander’s warm hands cupped your cheeks, looking you over. 

“Did he hurt you?” he asked. 

Your gazes met, but words wouldn’t come, so you shook your head. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, his warm arms wrapping around you and pressing you to his chest. 

You inhaled the spicy scent of the soap he used mixed with his own natural fragrance. 

“I won’t let any harm come to you.” 

When he pulled away, you found yourself looking at your feet, trying to avoid his gaze. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I dropped the gift,” you muttered, picking up the broken box. 

You plucked the pretty hairpin from the shards of ceramic, seeing it was still whole. 

“I’ll find a new box,” you said, trying to slide around him. 

He stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, curling the other around your fingers. 

“Keep it,” he said. “I’m not marrying Iris. My mother has no say in the matter, despite how she likes to posture.” 

Your gaze shifted to the red slash bisecting his cheek. 

“Let’s get this cleaned for you, sir. It will be a problem if it gets infected.” 

He frowned but followed you to the kitchen. 

“Is everything alright?” your mother asked as you pulled the first aid kit off a shelf. 

“Good morning, zhingha,” Leander said, greeting your mother with a kiss on the cheek.

The word meant “mother” in the Naga’s old language. He had never considered his biological mother his; when he was a boy, he got quite attached to yours. He spent most of his time in the kitchen with you, playing and avoiding Elanore’s tantrums when you were children. The two of you had made the pantry your fort, and you’d put on little shadow plays while you lay on the floor together. 

Your mother’s eyes focused on his wound, and she clucked. 

“Poor thing, come bend down where I can reach you. You’ve grown into such a tall man,” she said, taking the kit from you and pulling out the correct supplies. 

You hopped on the counter, swinging your feet as you watched her disinfect and bandage the cut. 

“What mother in their right mind would do such a thing to their son,” she muttered as she worked. 

She already knew who’d done it because she treated Leander’s wounds often. When she was done, she patted him on the head like when he was a little boy. 

“That’s better.” 

“We should go into town today,” he said. “My father is looking for you.” 

She frowned, a flash of fear streaking across her face. 

“Don’t worry. I’m supposed to be visiting Iris. We can take the carriage, and you can visit with your friends instead. Go have Charles ready it.” 

She nodded, giving him a wan smile before she hurried to find your father. You hopped off the counter and headed to do your chores while your mother was safely out of the house. 

Before you could make it out the door, Leander’s thick, electric blue tail coiled around you. 

“Ah, ah, you’re coming too, saiya,” he cooed, dragging you into his arms. 

Your heart thumped at the silly nickname he’d given you as a child. The word meant “little bear. " When he was young, he was fascinated with your round ears compared to his, which pointed at the end. As they had so often back then, his finger traced the arch of one as he hummed his pleasure. 

“Sir, you shouldn’t,” you whispered, but Leander was too pleased with you in his arms. 

He dipped his head, nibbling at your ear. 

“I should eat you up, sweet little thing,” he whispered, making your body explode in butterflies. 

He carried you out the back door to the stable, where your father was busy arranging the horses to pull the carriage. When he saw you tucked behind Leander’s large biceps, he frowned. 

“Put my daughter down. She’s not your doll,” he said, his tone more curt than he probably should have been with a family member of the house he served.  

Out of only politeness, you were sure, he set you down. Your mother let out a light, silvery giggle, patting your father on the shoulder. 

“Oh, don’t be so strict, Charles,” she said. “He doesn’t mean any harm by it.” 

As Leander tugged you by the hand into the carriage, you heard your Dad lower his voice, so he thought the Naga couldn’t hear. 

“I don’t like those snakes touching her. They are far too familiar. Miss Elanore’s grandfather would never have allowed him to fondle her the way he does. Things were the way they should be when he was around.”

Beside you, Leander snorted, rolling his eyes. 

“He also drove the family to bankruptcy,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Listen,” your father went on as he helped your mother onto the seat next to him, and still unaware you could hear him quite clearly. “I’ve been talking with the Willards about (Y/N).” 

“The Willards?” she asked. “The tailors?” 

“Yes, they have a boy about (Y/N)’s age. Apparently, he has taken an interest in her, and his father approves. He thinks a girl raised as a maid will make a dutiful wife. I think we ought to consider it. We can visit while we’re in town today.” 

You remembered the Willard's son Joshua from when you were sent on errands to pick up clothes for Elanore. He was a handsome young man, though a little on the skinny side. He seemed nice enough. Still, your cheeks burned, and you folded your hands tightly, hearing your parents plot your marriage. 

“I don’t know, dear,” your mother hummed. “Do you really think it’s a good idea?” 

He let out a grunt. 

“I’d do just about anything to get our girl away from that snake. He’s only going to ruin her, string her along, and throw her away when he’s bored. They’re all the same. The Willard’s can give her a good life.” 

You felt Leander stiffen beside you. As the carriage took off, his tail wrapped around you so tight you whimpered. He glanced down, his face darkening to a cool blue. 

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered, loosening his muscles but not letting you go. 

He gently unwrapped the hairpin, clutched in your palm, and busied himself fastening it to your hair. 

“So pretty,” he murmured, greedy eyes eating you up. “I won’t let anyone else touch you (Y/N).” 

You weren’t sure if that was supposed to be comforting. You’d always liked Leander. He was very handsome, and as children, you’d been inseparable. However, you also realized the massive gap between your two worlds. You were just a maid, and he was the only son of a wealthy lord. It wasn’t meant to be. Your father had explained to you many times before that Leander only doted on you because he was immature and unwilling to grow up. He thought he could still play make-believe with your life, and he warned you to be wary of him. 

Feeling raw and confused, you tried to keep your eyes out the window, focused on the passing countryside as you made your way toward town. When your father stopped to park the carriage, he nodded to your mother as you climbed out. 

She held out a hand to you. 

“Darling, I need you to come with me. We’re going to stop at the tailor’s,” she said, carefully avoiding Leander’s gaze. 

He, however, would not be tricked. 

“How convenient. I need to stop there as well,” he said with a grin, tugging you back towards him with his tail. “(Y/N), keep me company as we walk so I don’t get bored.” 

Your father gave him a deep grimace but was silent as he finished tying up the horses and escorted your mother by the arm down the busy avenue, walking a few steps ahead of you. You watched the two of them whisper to one another as you made your way to the Willard’s shop. 

“Greetings!” Marshall Willard said with a grin when he saw you and your parents enter the shop. 

His eyes jumped to the large Naga next you, and he winced just slightly before calling his son.

“Joshua! Come greet our guests. I’ll help the customer.” 

Joshua appeared from the back, giving you a pleasant smile. 

“Mr. and Mrs. (Y/LN). It’s wonderful to see you,” he said politely. “Can I offer you some tea?” 

Meanwhile, his father greeted Leander. 

“Young Lord Szake! What can I help you with this morning?” 

You moved to follow your parents to the kitchen with Joshua, but Leander pulled you back by the shoulders. 

“I’m here to buy (Y/N) some dresses,” he said, pushing you gently in front of him. 

Everyone in the room looked at you, and your cheeks burned. 

“What? Why, my lord?” you stammered. 

He tipped his head at you.

“If you’re to be my personal attendant, you can’t follow me around in threadbare wool dresses. You ought to represent the Szake family well.” 

“Personal attendant?” you parroted, confused. “But I’m just a maid.” 

“Not anymore,” he declared. “Every Lord has a personal attendant to handle the paperwork and their calendar…those sorts of things.” 

“But isn’t that normally a man?” Mr. Willard asked. 

Leander beamed at him, a cold smile full of hate. 

“(Y/N) has known me since I was just a child. She knows everything about me. I wouldn’t dare trust anyone else with my personal affairs.” 

Your father frowned. 

“Nonsense,” he barked. “(Y/N) is going to be married and have a domestic life, as she should. You’re a wealthy Lord; I’m sure you can find a qualified candidate.” 

Joshua nodded beside him. You looked up at Leander, eyes large. 

“I can’t be your personal attendant, sir,” you added. “It’s not proper. What will people think?” 

He smirked at you, his long, strong fingers pinching your chin so you had to look at him. 

“Fine…If your father insists you have a domestic life, you shall.” 

Your shoulders wilted with relief, and you let out a breath. 

“Oh, thank goo-” 

“As my wife.” 

Everyone in the room’s eyes were as wide as saucers. 

“What?!” they all said at once. 

Leander gave Mr. Willard another bitterly cold grin. 

“Measure her for dresses fitting the station of a Lord’s fiancee.” 

“Absolutely not!” your father said.

“Lord Szake will never allow of this!” Mr. Willard pointed out. 

“She’s to be my fiancee!” Joshua hissed, taking an incensed step towards Leander. “My father has already approved it!” 

Leander’s gaze shot to him, danger reflected in his irises. 

“There are not words on this plane to describe how little I care about whatever arrangement your families have worked out. (Y/N) will marry me, and you will dress her properly.” 

He sank into his coils, pushing you in front of Mr. Willard, snapping his fingers. 

“Now.” 

You saw the man’s jaw tick, but refusing Leander’s request would only be bad for his business, so he pulled out his measuring tape and approached you. Not sure what was happening, you gave him a pleading look, begging him to say something. Reading your confusion and fear, his stare shifted to one more gentle. 

“Lift your arms, please, miss,” he said quietly. 

The room was dead silent while he did as he was told. Joshua and your father glared at Leander, who seemed entirely unbothered, while your mother appeared uncertain. You watched her suck in a deep breath, straightening her shoulders before she approached the Naga, speaking in hushed tones. 

“Sir, are you sure this is wise? I’m not opposed to this match. I-I know…I can see you love her…I’m only worried for (Y/N)’s safety. Such arrangements between classes rarely work out well. Your fellow nobles will never accept her. Would you subject her to their cruelty?” 

For a moment, he seemed to be considering her words, eyes sliding to you. 

“My family has never been accepted into our peers good graces. You know my father was a common merchant. My mother married him out of desperation. She traded her noble title for his fortune. People’s opinions are only that. Opinions. (Y/N) and I will face the same prejudices together. Do you wish your daughter to continue her life as a maid or-?” 

He gave Joshua a dirty look. 

“Or become a servant to a husband who can never love her as I can?” 

Your mother sighed. She lifted her hand and smoothed a bit of hair that had come out of place as if he were her own son. 

“Please…for me, be serious about this if it is what you intend to do.” 

He tipped his cheek into her palm. 

“I will never betray your daughter zhingha.” 

Your father let out a strangled noise, marching out the front door, slamming it behind him. 

Joshua, who had been pacing in place, stomped over to you, grabbing you by the arm to face him. 

“Is this what you really want (Y/N)? A snake for a husband?” 

Before you could answer, Leander’s tail shot out, jerking him away from you and tossing him into the wall. 

“Don’t touch her!” 

The young man climbed to his feet, clutching his ribs. 

“You nobles can’t just take whatever you like! (Y/N) belongs with us!” 

Leander slid across the room like an elegant blue river, lifting Joshua up by his throat. 

“Do not address my fiancee by her first name again. If I see your eyes on her, I will gouge them out!” 

Joshua’s furious face told you he didn’t plan to back down. His father dropped the measuring tape, hurrying to rescue his son. 

“Of course, he wont’ My Lord,” he said. “You’ve made your intentions quite clear. Yes, Joshua?” 

He gave Leander another long look before he gave in. 

“As you say, My Lord.” 

Leander dropped him, returning to his seat near you, and jerked his head at the tailor. 

“Continue,” he snarled. 

“Go to the back and help your mother,” Mr. Willard said to his son.

Joshua gave you a last lingering glance before he disappeared. 

–

You arrived back at the mansion in a very different dress than when you'd left. Leander had insisted on buying you and your mother matching readymade dresses from the shop window while you waited for the fourteen others he ordered to be made. The soft peach satin fabric was the nicest thing you’d ever worn. 

The first thing you heard as you walked in the black door was the smashing of ceramic. 

“Stay here,” Leander said. 

Your eyes quickly flicked to your mother, who grabbed your hand and pulled you into the pantry, peeking out through a crack in the door. 

“Father?” Leander called, opening the door to the dining room. 

He ducked as a vase flew past, smashing to pieces on the stove.

“That bitch!” You heard him screaming. 

He shoved past his son, dark eyes jerking around the room. 

“Father! Calm down! What's happened?” 

“Where is the human woman?” he snarled. 

You and your mother slipped back into the shadows, trying to be as silent as mice. 

“Father! She’s not back from shopping yet. Please, tell me what’s happened.” 

His eyes narrowed, but seemed satisfied with his answer. 

“It’s your mother,” he snarled. “She’s gone.” 

“Gone?” 

He bared his fangs at his son. 

“Don’t parrot me like a dumb animal. The damn woman left! She stole the gold in the safe and disappeared! No one’s seen her!” 

He paced on his thick tail. 

“She must have paid off the townsfolk. No one will tell me where she’s gone!” 

“Has she made off with our fortune?” 

His father glanced up at him. 

“Of course not; I keep the majority of our money in the bank. Only you and I can access it. I planned for this possibility but never expected her to do it! She only got off with our emergency fund…but it was enough to live well for a long time. When will the human woman return?” 

“I don’t know, father,” he said. “But whatever you need, I can help you with it.” 

He waved a clawed hand. 

“I don’t need anything done! I’m going to marry the woman. I should never have agreed to marry Elanore. I won’t make that mistake again. An obedient human wife will suit me better.” 

Leander let out a cold chuff. 

“She’s already married, father!” 

“Easily fixed,” he hissed with murder in his eyes. 

“You can’t be serious!” 

He tried to push past his son toward the door leading out to the stable. Leander blocked his way, his icy irises determined. 

“I can’t let you do that, Father,” he said, his tone low and even. 

Your father came marching through the door a moment later, unaware of the drama playing out. He froze where he stood, eyes immediately focused on the two Naga, staring one another down. 

The opportunity in front of him was too tempting for Dervin to resist, and his tail shot out, a victorious smile on his lips. You couldn’t stay the scream that erupted from your throat, your mother rushing past you to protect her husband. 

Dervin’s focus shifted to her, and Leander lunged at the same second. Caught off guard, he threw his father to the floor, and they quickly became a writhing ball of tails and arms. 

“You’d betray me too, son?” he gasped as he tried to overpower Leander. 

You smelled the coppery stench of blood as sharp nails scraped each other's skin. More than willing to help, your father picked up a heavy cast iron skillet, making his way around the hissing Naga, quiet on his feet. 

There was a resounding crunch as the skillet descended on Dervin’s head. He flopped to the floor, limp. Blood leaked in a pool around him, but he still dragged in a wet breath. Before anyone else could move, Leander snatched a kitchen knife from the rack, jamming it through his chest. Dervin let out his gurgling last breath and then was still. 

You and your mother clutched one another, sinking to the floor. Neither of you knew what to say or do, but your father and Leander didn’t need any prompting. 

“Help me with him,” your father said, slipping his arms under the dead Naga’s. “We’ll bury him under the pig pens.” 

Leander grunted his assent, lifting the majority of the weight as they maneuvered the body outside. 

“Come,” your mother whispered, trembling. “The blood.” 

You nodded, filling the mop bucket with water before pulling every towel from the cabinet to mop up the mess. 

“What now?” you found yourself whispering, though there was no reason to. 

She shrugged. 

“That’s for Leander to decide. He’s the Lord of this house.” 

By the time they returned, you’d scrubbed everything to a sparkle, the only blood left staining your new dresses and the towels.

“Take those off,” your father said. “We’ll burn the linens.” 

The two of you nodded, slipping the heavy dresses over your shoulders until you only wore the thick shifts underneath. Leander helped you out of your shoes and slipped the red-splattered stockings off your feet. 

Your father gave you and Leander a long look before he spoke. 

“Take your fiancee to bed,” he said. “She shouldn’t have seen all this. I trust it won’t happen again.”  

Leander returned a tight nod, and something passed between their gazes. They’d forged a silent agreement. 

It wasn’t until your mother and father left out the back door to burn the rest of the evidence that the tears came. It was a relief Dervin was gone. He would have killed your father and hurt your mother, but it was still horrific. 

“Shhh,” Leander hummed, scooping you up in his arms. 

He carried you upstairs to his bedroom, curling into a tight ring to settle you in the center. His arms wrapped around you, and he pressed your head into his chest. 

“Everything is going to be okay now,” he said softly, carding the strands of your hair with his long fingers. 

“Lei, are we all going to jail?” you sniffled, his childhood nickname falling past your lips all on its own. 

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling when they met yours. 

“No. My mother did us a favor. If anyone asks, they’re touring the countryside until they're entirely forgotten.” 

“What happens now?” you asked. 

He tipped your chin with his thumb, dipping his head to slip his lips against yours. They were so warm that you felt your jaw's tension melt away. His eyes searched yours when they parted, carrying a lightness you hadn’t seen in many years. 

“I’m going to marry you, and your parents will move out of the servant’s quarters. Your father and mother have earned their place in the Szake family. We’ll find some new staff.” 

You nodded, his hair forming a smooth curtain blocking the world. 

“Sleep now,” he hummed. “All is as it should be.” 

Despite how you wanted to keep your eyes open, they slid shut against your will. 

—

“Would you like lavender or rose tea, Miss (Y/N)?” your new maid asked as she opened the tea box in front of you. 

“Rose,” you said, turning your attention back to the catalog in front of you. 

You sat comfortably in the rose garden, enjoying the sunshine as you planned your wedding. It had been a month since the terrible night that Dervin died. When Leander had informed the merchants of the town that he was getting married, they’d sent piles of samples and booklets for you to look through. You’d never realized there were so many options! It was a little overwhelming. Since you’d come from humble beginnings, it felt strange spending so much money on decorations and lace, but Leander informed you it should be a grand occasion and not to spare a cent. 

“Um…Miss (Y/N)?” one of your maids said, looking slightly frightened. 

“What’s wrong, Lily?” you asked, concerned. 

“Well…there’s a Miss Iris at the door looking for you. Should I bring her?” 

Leander was out for the day, meeting with one of his importers, so you weren’t sure what she could want. 

“Of course, bring her here.” 

A minute later, an elegant Naga came slithering into the garden. Her curly violet hair was pinned in a pretty updo and she wore an elaborate pink dress, covered in ribbons. 

“Hello, Miss Iris,” you said, waving for her to take a place at the table. “Can I offer you some tea?” 

Her brow was drawn, and she looked you up and down. 

“So…you’re who he picked,” she pouted. “Over me.” 

Your ears burned, realizing you were speaking to Leander’s former fiancee. 

“There’s no competition,” you said. 

She snorted. 

“Obviously not.” 

She narrowed her eyes at you, and you expected a verbal lashing. You were a mere maid, after all. It was absurd Leander would take you as his fiancee. She sucked in a deep breath, and her expression suddenly softened. 

“How…How did you do it?” 

Your eyebrows jumped, confused. 

“Do what?” 

She looked around, uncomfortable. 

“Can I tell you a secret?”

You took a breath as your maid politely poured her a cup of tea. 

“I suppose so…If you’d like.” 

“I’m relieved.” 

“Relieved…why?” 

She sipped her tea, thinking before she spoke. 

“Because I don’t particularly care for Leander. In fact, I don’t like him at all. He’s…very…intense. He kind of creeps me out. He only spoke of you when we were out on dates; it was incredibly boring and awkward. Not to mention…the way he talked about you…He was fixated on all of your little ticks. Did you know he carries a lock of your hair around with him? And sometimes your stockings! He showed up one day elated because you’d accidentally sneezed on him and used his handkerchief to wipe your nose! He was cuddling it like a treasure!” 

Your ears heated. Where had he gotten a lock of your hair? You’d never given it to him. 

“He what?” 

Iris waved her previous statement away. 

“Anyway, I wouldn’t have liked him even if he hadn’t. He’s just…too much like a Naga male. Once they have something in their mind, they get…obsessed. 

Our parents arranged our marriage. I hate that tradition. I’d never force my child into a marriage without love. That’s how you get murdered by some enterprising mistress!” 

You blinked, unsure if you should be offended or not, but she went on.  

“Honestly, there’s…someone else who has my interest. Only…he’s not a noble Naga.” 

“Oh! That is a puzzle, isn’t it?” 

She nodded, stretching her hand across the table to touch yours. 

“That’s why I need to know how you did it! How did you win over Leander’s parents? Maybe if I can tell Joshua how to do it, I can…I don’t know…” 

You giggled. 

“Joshua…Willard?” 

Her violet irises flared. 

“You know him?” 

“Ah…yes…but not well. He seems like a very nice man.” 

Her eyes glazed over, wistful thoughts playing in her mind. 

“He’s so kind and considerate. I’ve never met anyone like him, so gentle. A few weeks ago, I went to pick up a dress, and he helped me. His hands were so soft, and his voice was so sweet. Every night since then, we’ve been meeting in secret! I know he’s the right one and he thinks so too! 

I don’t want to brute of a husband. I want a kind person who I can talk to. That’s why I have to know how to convince my parents not to marry me off to some…stranger!” 

You weren’t sure how to answer. 

“I think…You should do whatever you must to protect your beloved,” you said. “I can’t tell you exactly what to do because it will be different for you. We’re all different in different circumstances.

She looked a little disappointed. 

“What I do know, though, Iris, is that if you love one another, you will find a way You two are adults, not children. No one can make you marry someone you don’t want to. It’s only a matter of how far you are willing to go, what sacrifices you will make to have the life you want.” 

She nodded, thinking. 

“But…” you started, pausing to sip your tea, “What if your parents went on a little vacation?” 

“A vacation?” 

You shrugged. 

“Once you’re married, you’re married,” you said. “Maybe by the time they return…if they return… you’ve sorted your affairs.” 

The two of you shared a knowing look, and she brightened. 

“I like you (Y/N), you’re very clever! You’ve given me hope! Is there anything I can help you with in return? I want us to be friends!” 

You smiled, picking up one of the catalogs. 

“Yes, actually. I have no idea what is proper for a lady. Can you help me? We can plan our weddings together.” 

She beamed at you, taking the catalog. 

“Of course!” 

A few hours later, Leander came slithering through the garden. 

“Iris? What are you doing here?” he asked, his shoulders stiffening. “I thought I made it clear…” 

Iris snorted and waved him away. 

“I’m not here for you,” she said, raising her nose at him. “(Y/N) and I are planning our weddings.” 

“Your wedding?” he asked, and she grinned. 

“Yes! And now that you’re here,” she wrinkled her nose at him. “I think I’ll be off.” 

She leaned down and kissed your cheek. 

“Thank you for your advice (Y/N). I’m going to talk to Joshua,” she said before sliding past Leander without saying goodbye. 

“What was that all about?” Leander asked when she was gone. 

You shrugged. 

“True love, I guess.” 

He pulled you into his coils, peeking over your shoulder at the catalogs on the table. He ran a finger over the things you’d circled. 

“Lei, can I ask you something?” you asked. 

“Anything, love.” 

You twisted around to look at him, narrowing your eyes. 

“Did you tell Iris that you were excited I sneezed on you?” 

“Ah…noooo,” he lied, his whole face darkening to a deep blue. “Wh-Why would she say something silly like that?” 

You giggled. 

“Of course not,” you said, patting his chest. “I must have misheard her. Can I borrow your handkerchief? It's a little warm out here.” 

He passed it to you and you daintily patted your forehead, handing it back. His eyes widened at the little scrap of fabric in his hand and he hastily stuck it in his jacket pocket. 

Leander might be a weirdo, but he was your weirdo and you wouldn't have it any other way. 

#monster romance #monster x girl #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #yandere fluff #monster fluff #yandere male #x reader #male yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere #yandere blog #yandere community #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #soft yandere #naga x reader #naga #naga fluff #x maid #monster bf #monster lover #monster x human #teratophillia x reader #terato #yandere monster

[jimblejamblewritings]

Your Moniker Should Be Cruel | part 1.

Summary: How do you win a war between the Greens and the Blacks? Take what you want.

Warnings: 18+ THIS IS A DARK FIC. (Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, for those who use this term) Non-con and violence and death. Do not read if that makes you uncomfortable (and do not hate on my readers that enjoy this escapism)

Pairing: dark!Aegon x reader, technically Cregan x reader (his romance doesn't really get focused on for any of the story)

Word Count: 2.4k

Series Masterlist

Despite your protests, you and your siblings had to go to King’s Landing. Especially you. After Jace was born with dark hair, your mother and father realized that they had to try until they had a child. It worked.

After you were born, no one questioned the legitimacy of your brothers. Not out loud. You were obviously Laenor’s child so why wouldn’t the others be if you weren’t even firstborn? Rhaenyra and Laenor couldn’t possibly have a bastard first and trueborn second yet still name the firstborn heir. 

You never minded being the political chess piece for your siblings and parents. Your mother and father had always been honest with you. They felt they owed you that much. It truly didn’t bother you. Plus, your parents always showered you with extra love. So did Ser Harwin when he was still alive. Having three parents and three brothers was more than a girl could ask for.  

You were also the only one who knew the truth about Laenor’s death. Daemon and Rhaenyra knew it would be cruel of them to let you think he was actually dead. You were happy for your father that he could live the way he truly wanted.

About once a month you received letters from Laenor. They were never signed with his name. They were always signed with the moniker of your grandfather — The Sea Snake. Every letter started the same: Let me tell you a story. Of course they were never stories but Laenor’s real life. 

You watched your raven with the latest letter about how you didn’t want to go to King’s Landing fly off before joining the rest of your family. As the only legitimate child, you had to go with them. Maybe just seeing you would remind Ser Vaemond about the notion of family. Luke was your brother and the heir to Driftmark. You didn’t see why your uncle was being so vindictive about it. And you didn’t see why you had to go on ship instead of dragon. You suspected it was because your mother knew you would take the first opportunity you could get to leave. Jace approached you as the ship started to dock. 

“What is wrong, dear sister? We are coming home,” he said as he leaned his arms on the railing. 

You rolled your eyes. “This is your home, Mister Heir to the Throne.” 

Jace laughed as he swung his arm over your shoulder. “Do you think I’d kick you out when I take the throne?” 

“I wish you would. If I had to be anywhere but Dragonstone then I’d rather be with Lord Stark.” 

“Ah, yes, your betrothed. You know, I remember Lord Stark agreeing to visit so much it would be like the two of you lived in both King’s Landing and Winterfell.” 

“Well it’ll be different when we do that. Mother will be wearing the crown… and we won’t be living with Aegon.” 

Your brother’s face was no longer light and cheerful. He grabbed your arm. “If he even looks at you, please let me know.” 

“I will, Jacaerys, I promise.” 

If there was one thing your brother hated, it was Aegon near you. Ever since you said that your uncle made you uncomfortable — only choosing to confide that in your brother — Jace would never leave you alone with him. There was something about the way Aegon looked at you that bothered you. It wasn’t one of lust. That was something you could deal with. No, Aegon — and to a lesser extent Aemond — looked at you like a target. Like they could get to your mother through you. 

You supposed they could. You were the only daughter she gave birth to. She loved Baela and Rhaena to death but there was something different when it came to actually giving birth. And Aegon knew that. 

The only time you couldn’t avoid your uncle was at the dinner your grandsire wanted. You tried to ignore all of Aegon’s crude marks that he muttered under his breath. It made your skin crawl. He smiled every time he saw he was getting to your brother. Jace finally had enough, hand slamming on the table. He held up his cup, everyone doing the same. The others smiled as he made a nice speech. He looked at you. 

“And to my sister whose betrothal to Lord Stark is sure to be a successful union. He is not a man who is friends to those that disrespect his woman. Not that she needs the help, let all remember that.” 

Next to you, Aegon humphed but made no other comments. Dinner went without many more problems… As long as you ignored your brothers getting into a fight with your uncles. You took a quick stroll in the Godswood to collect some flowers for your room. You also wanted the seeds to try and grow them on Dragonstone.

Years ago, you had planted the purple and blue petaled flowers. They bloomed each year and grew beautifully. Carefully, you picked the flowers without disturbing their neighbors. You checked over everything before leaving the Godswood to return to your chamber. 

A gasp escaped your mouth when you ran into Aegon. The only thought that could go through your mind was wondering if he was following you. You tried to sidestep him but he just blocked you instead. You looked down when he put a hand on your waist.  

“You are betrothed to Cregan Stark?” 

“Yes, Uncle. I would like to get to my chamber if you do not mind.” 

Aegon didn’t move. He laughed as you took a step back when he got closer. The stare was back. You looked around. If he just pushed you the wrong way, he could slam your head against the stone wall. Surely he wouldn’t do anything in a corridor that was so public, would he? Aegon took a flower from your hand. He grinded the petals into shreds between his fingers. 

“It’s a shame he gets to make you his whore.” 

Your eyes narrowed. Not caring about whether or not he followed you, you shoulder checked him and walked to your room. Daemon came down the hall, not hearing any of the conversation but seeing you and Aegon. He stopped you with a questioning look on his face. Despite not being your real father and Laenor still being very much alive, Daemon felt like a father. He cared about all his children whether they were his or not and would kill anyone for them. He held your face. 

“Has he offended you?” 

You shook your head as best as you could with him still holding it. “He is simply being Aegon. He also destroyed my flowers.” 

Daemon tried not to laugh as he looked at the sad excuse for a bouquet still in your hands. He took your word when you said you were okay and continued on to his chambers. You were so happy to leave King’s Landing and return to Dragonstone. More importantly, Cregan would be coming in a month or two for a visit. He wasn’t your first choice for marriage but a princess didn’t have many choices in the world.

Honestly, he wasn’t even on your list for a man. At least he was a nice man, a good one. And he wasn’t terribly older than Jace which meant he wasn’t obnoxiously older than you. He had grown to be a friend to you and your brothers. And he understood that you weren’t just a thing for him to marry and get kids from. He had no qualms about coming down south frequently to visit your family. It probably helped that dragon transport was no more than a three day trip on a bad day. 

Your happiness was cut very short with the threat of war. Your mother delivering a stillborn, your grandsire dying, your uncle stealing the throne. It was all too much to happen at once. Everyone agreed with your mother’s decision for war. You all gathered at the war table and listened to her, Lord Corlys, and Daemon. As they talked, you thought. Maybe you could write to your father. Laenor might have been able to help. That thought was quickly dismissed. If anyone recognized him then your younger siblings from Daemon would be illegitimate.

The part everyone was arguing about was allies. Lord Corlys could aid in a siege by controlling Blackwater Bay with his ships but if the Greens had land allies then they might be able to wait it out. Everyone looked at you when you picked up pieces on the table and moved them without a second thought. You and Jace were like twins more than siblings. He spoke as you moved.  

“Send us. Dragons are faster than ravens. And they’re more convincing… Send us.” 

Baela, Rhaena, and Lucerys nodded. You finally moved the last piece to where you wanted. 

“Lord Baratheon will need force or incentive to remember his allegiance and vows. You don’t need the Eyrie to win and you might not get it because they still hate Father no matter how much they admire Mother. Not to offend, Daemon.” 

“Offense not taken,” he said as he moved past you to get a better look at how you rearranged the table. 

“What we need is something reassured.” 

“What are you saying?” Lord Corlys asked. 

“We aren’t married but Lord Stark is a loyal man and his people are loyal to him. Whether it is acknowledged or not, the Starks are Kings in the North. Lord Stark is already their King and I am to be their queen. Winterfell banners always ride for family. All of their banners. Every soldier and farmer and blacksmith.” 

“He would do that before a wedding? Before children that tie his family to ours?” 

You cleared your throat. Your mother, grandsire, grandmother, father, and older brother all looked at you. You supposed that you should have expected that when you opened your mouth to so willingly offer up the North. Scratching the back of your head, you focused on the table instead of everyone else. 

“Creg knew o—” 

“He has a nickname?” Jace asked. 

“Yes, as I was saying, Creg knew our ceremony was going to be in King’s Landing and in the style of Old Valyria. We discussed it through letters. When I left Driftmark last time, I left earlier than planned. I stopped in the North before coming back home. We got married in the Godswood. Unofficially! There was no Septon and no bedding. It just made him feel better to honor his House. It wasn’t real but in his eyes we are married.” 

It was settled. Jace would go to Winterfell alone instead of you as a formality since Cregan was a confirmed ally. You were going with Lucerys because you were the best speaker out of all your siblings and Lord Baratheon would be a hard man to bargain with. Despite being his daughters, Baela and Rhaena were the best choice for the Eyrie. Daemon did still inherit the Vale after marrying Lady Rhea with no kids. There was always a possibility they would be accepted. 

Jace left first, needing all the time to make it to Winterfell. You all wanted to deliver the messages at the same time so you could potentially come back to Dragonstone already with armies. He landed his dragon in the open courtyard, everyone getting out of the way of Vermax’s feet. The good news about dragons was that he never had to request meeting with someone. The guards had gotten Cregan just as Jacaerys fed Vermax and told him to not steal anyone’s sheep as he waited. 

Cregan’s face dropped a bit as he came outside. “When they said there was a dragon I thought it was Sunchaser.” 

“I am sorry to disappoint, Lord Stark, that my face isn’t as pretty as my sister’s,” Jace said with a laugh. “I actually come with a message from the Queen.” 

“What does Her Grace need? Never mind, come inside and we can eat.” 

While Jace spoke with Cregan, you got on your dragon to go with Luke. Neither of you expected the Greens to already be there, let alone Aemond. Vhagar’s looming presence was terrifying even if she wasn’t doing anything. It was more terrifying as you left Lord Baratheon with a failed message. Both you and Lucerys were betrothed and had nothing to offer him. He didn’t want your youngest brothers, deeming them too young for his daughters who didn’t want to wait forever. 

Before Aemond could get his wish of fighting Luke, you two were escorted out. You tried to shield your eyes as the rain came down harshly. It seemed like it had no chance of letting up. Both Sunchaser and Arrax were nervous to fly. You couldn’t blame but you two did have to get home. 

Normally, you and Luke flew far apart from each other. It was almost a race. But with the horrible weather, the two of you stuck close. The dragons spit little balls of fire to help light their way and allow you two to see in the dark. You looked behind you when you thought you heard a low grumbling. Despite feeling a presence, nothing was there. 

Luke followed your lead as you sped up anyway. Both of you screamed when Vhagar came out of nowhere. The rain made it hard to see and avoid the creature. You could hear your uncle’s laughter. It was hard to tell if Aemond was taunting or actually wanted to kill you. You didn’t want to stick around to find out. Luke and you accidentally split apart when you two left the cavern that Vhagar couldn’t enter. 

Sunchaser banked a hard left when he heard Arrax’s yelp. Without even needing a command from you, Sunchaser flew between Arrax and Vhagar. He blew fire into Vhagar’s face, the dragon roaring so loud you thought you would lose your hearing. You flew up into the clouds.

It was clear above the rain clouds but you couldn’t find your brother. You breathed out in relief when Arrax and Lucerys came over to you. With a nod, the two of you decided to go in the opposite direction. It was better to fly over land and lose Vhagar instead of staying over open water. You might even fly to Winterfell where you were sure to be safe. 

You felt your heart stop when Vhagar appeared out of nowhere, biting Arrax into pieces. You couldn’t see Luke. Had he been eaten or was he falling? If he was falling then you could still save him. You didn’t get an answer to that question. Vhagar’s giant claws ripped out the back of your dragon as she scooped you up, still attached to your saddle. 

(part 2)

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107​ @i-have-no-life-charlie

#house of dragon fic #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #targaryen!reader #velaryon!reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #dark!aegon ii targaryen #dark!aegon

[mizjoely]

MHAW Prompt #3: to this point, from now on

To this point/from now on/wherever I go/I won't be long-

"Why not?"

Molly stopped singing, a flush spreading across her face at Sherlock's voice. She hated being caught singing aloud by anyone, but especially by Mister-Music-Snob. "Why not what?" she asked when he continued to stand there with his 'Well-I-asked-you-a-question' face.

"Why won't you belong?"

Molly screwed her own face up in confusion. "It's just a song, Sherlock, just lyrics. It means it won't be long before the two of them, you know, get together. The next line is 'beside you dear/the path is clear'. And then it, you know, goes on from there."

"Ah." Sherlock nodded gravely. "So I won't be long, rather than I won't belong. My mistake."

With a rush of insight Molly understood exactly what he'd meant, and her heart felt as if it would burst with sympathy. "No, I get it, Sherlock. Lots of people feel like they don't belong, that they're apart from the rest of the world."

Her already burning cheeks felt even hotter as she realized what she was saying. Oh no, would he think she was comparing him to his crazy sister, the one who felt all alone because of her terrifying intellect? The one who couldn't connect to the rest of the human race?

Dear. God. Would he think she was calling him a machine? The way John used to do? She'd rather die than have him believe that! She knew that yes, he loved her, just as he loved his small, select circle of friends and family.

Just as she opened her mouth to apologize, he surprised her by stepping forward, deep into her personal space, and placing one hand gently over her lips. "Don't apologize, Molly, I know what you meant - and what you didn't mean. I was just..." He huffed out a wry laugh. "I was trying to find a way to tell you how I really feel, and I thought the song was the perfect opportunity, but then of course I misunderstood it, and then I made you feel as if you'd misunderstood me, and that's the last thing I wanted to do. To hurt you again. To make you feel inadequate or alone or-"

Molly gently removed his hand from over her lips. "Breathe, Sherlock," she advised him. "Just...take a moment. Breathe. Then just say it, whatever it is you came to say. You never have to worry about hurting me with the truth."

She braced herself, keeping herself outwardly tranquil as she waited for him to finally give her the official 'I love you as a friend' speech she'd been waiting for ever since his travails at Sherrinford and Musgrave. Oh, he'd tried a few times, and she'd patiently waited for the words to come, but each time he ended up mumbling something about how complicated emotions were, accepting her reassurances that yes, they were still good, and then practically running away from her.

Now or never, she advised herself. If he doesn't say it now, you will tell him it's all good and he doesn't have to actually say it. Then we'll both be able to go on with our lives without this hanging over us.

I hope.

Sherlock, meanwhile, was not only doing what she'd advised him to do - breathing, slowly and deeply - but had closed his eyes and dropped both hands by his sides. When he opened them, the panicked expression was gone. He smiled softly at her, and she smiled back, reaching out to give his hands an encouraging squeeze. "Go on, say it, then," she said.

"Say it like I mean it?" he asked, and she flinched a little, then stiffened her spine and nodded.

"All right, I will," he said, catching her hands as she started to let him go. She was so surprised she didn't fight him, just let him hold both her hands, watching as he brought them up to rest on his chest. "Do you feel that, Molly?" he asked, and she nodded, because his heart was drumming in his chest, as if he'd just sprinted after a particularly speedy suspect. "That's how I feel about you. No one else makes my heart race like this." Slowly, carefully, he pulled her closer, until they were barely a breath apart. "No one else sees me like you do." He stroked his fingers along her cheek. "No one else has ever touched me the way you do."

Then he grimaced. "That - that was not meant to sound like a cheap pick-up line," he grumbled, and Molly couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips. His own twitched into a smile in response. "No one else makes me as tongue-tied as you do," he concluded with a shrug. "So my only conclusion is that I love you, not as a friend - not like I love John or Mrs. Hudson or my parents - but as something...different."

"Different how?" Molly prompted, barely remembering to breathe herself as she gazed hopefully up at him.

He groaned. "You know how, Molly, do I have to spell it out for you?"

"Yes," she said promptly. "You do. Because this is too important to leave anything in doubt. Say it like you mean it. Say it first."

With that call back he flinched, just a little, as she just had; and just as she had done, he straightened his spine and nodded. "I love you," he said simply. "I said it. I meant it. I mean it." His gaze softened as he sang, 'beside you dear/the path is clear'" - and then he kissed her.

And Molly Hooper was never in doubt about his feelings ever again.

#sherlolly #molly hooper appreciation week 2023 #not gonna lie - this prompt gave me the most difficulties #but i hope i came through ok in the end #i'm sure you'll let me know lol

[princeresnikov]

it's in my nature {Tangerine} // 11

ten. the scorpion: same eyes in different people.

Summary: Clementine begrudgingly goes back to doing her actual job of guarding The Prince, though unfortunately The Prince wants to go stare death in the face and see her brother. How she knew he was on the train is beyond Clementine, who is unfortunately used to The Prince being smug and correct almost all of the time, and would rather be with the girl than let her roam this train full of killers on her own. A chapter about family or not being welcome in one.

{ Masterlist }

A/N: 5736 words. this time it's only been two months ! WOW! but also hello again friends, i'm here today to celebrate my favourite fucked up dynamic which is Clem & The Prince. i could write them forever i honestly could, I love them so much. this chapter has less editing than the last ones so it might be a bit everywhere but im very tired and haven't been back to the source material in quite a while (the book). i hope you enjoy, and as always I would love if you left a comment about what you've been enjoying so far! ALSO QUITE A BIT OF CLEM LORE???

Warnings: Don’t be surprised when the OC is a terrible person and is implied to have done terrible things along with the rest of them.

Chapter Warnings: discussions of murder, violence, unhealthy family dynamics, some allusions to torture but only faintly, drinking, grieving kind of??

Taglist: @venusthepirate @malar-region @tangerinesgf @esmaada @sarcastic-sourwolf @chuyouchu @justshutupmars @somikesoc @chachadelight @andydre4m @evangelineflowers @darkchai @bellatrix124 @kunikidaswhore @thewinterschildren178 @deadtildeath @folkloreandfall @aniglio18 @geeiz @mimidior @justice-333 @ltlthetrifecta @salsasadd @xkawax @hellsgatelove22 @brownficgirl @tangerineswife @cigarettesandfigureskates @ceciliahargrove @welcometothescreaming20s @moonlight-matcha @thyeb @emilia527 @tangerinefics @charlemagnethesecond @little-miss-bi @megplant @kalli0pes @aaronperryjohnson @nachtcirce @literatureisair @nina-isabelle @queenofspades403 @ayaahaddadd @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @persephones-garden

----

Despite how inherently she lacked one, being around The White Death's family had never made her yearn for a family of her own. Of course she's well aware that they're not exactly the model of a perfect, healthy family dynamic, but it really was all she had to go on -

[I know he's here.] Case and point, The Prince had been sending increasingly cryptic texts that Clementine could only assume was about her brother. The Prince had a way of knowing things, and more infuriatingly, jumping to conclusions based on Clementine's non-answers that were correct a frustrating amount of time. 

"What have you done now -?" Clementine had answered The Prince's phone call with her patience wearing thin.

"I've found the case, our friend is just now working on getting it open for us," The Prince says, reminding Clementine of the hollow-eyed Yuchi who had tailed after The Prince into the bar cart looking like he was already half way to giving up, "and I do worry when you speak to me like that," The Prince continues with faux concern, "imagine if someone heard you talking to your poor, sweet client like that; it'd certainly blow your cover." As if she even cares about how Clementine speaks over the phone to her for the benefit of Clementine, as if she didn't simply take any opportunity she could to exert even some small amount of control over her bodyguard. 

"I'm coming to check on you -"

"So proud of you for remembering to do your job," immediately The Prince fired back, voice all but dripping with sarcasm, and Clementine knows she's rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. 

"Ma'am I was following your instructions of distracting the man in the blue suit." 

"I didn't think you'd go on for this long."

"So you're calling me to come back because you do actually want me around?"

"Don't flatter yourself; Mister Kimura has hundreds of combinations to go through on that suitcase and I'm rather bored," at least her tone matched her words, coming with a faint, exasperated sigh.

"I struggle to believe you're yearning for my companionship in this moment," Clementine deadpans, and much to her surprise, The Prince laughs, the sound bright and genuine on the other end of the line. 

"Of course not!" The Prince practically crows, though the levity dies out, "however I would like to have a serious conversation with you about withholding important information, and you not doing that again." 

About a million different things run through Clementine's head at once, all most certainly incriminating, and all things she'd take to her grave. However she knows better than to panic in this moment, remembering the girl's earlier text messages.

"There are things you don't need to know, ma'am," Clementine tells her gently, all the while thinking - how was I meant to tell you that yes your brother is here, but he's dead!?

"Agree to disagree, fruit fly," and The Prince hangs up. Fuck. How would she even know about her brother being aboard the train? The girl has always known far too much, even for her resources. 

As a child she'd had this insatiable curiosity that had made Clementine wary when they'd first met. The Prince had always seemed like she'd been starved for information, never giving a real reason as to why she'd poke and prod and investigate so thoroughly for someone her age. Information gathering for it's own sake, her father had always showered her with affection for her persistent nature. 

"What's wrong with you?" Was the first thing The Prince had ever said to Clementine. 

In The White Death's office, the next room over, The Son was arguing with his father about the budget they'd been allocated for Clementine's wardrobe and how he believed it wasn't enough to dress her like a believable socialite. Of course Clementine couldn't care less about how she's dressed as long as she's able to do her job; some of the dresses The Son had picked out hadn't exactly been conductive to some the more physical aspects of her job, but they hadn't stopped her either.

The girl is small, dark hair and eyes that reminded Clementine almost too much of The Son; this must be the sister he had occasionally complained about. Never around others, but Clementine clearly didn't matter when it was dawn and she was wiping the puke from the corners of his mouth, or putting ointment on the grazes he got after he ate shit on the sidewalk outside of a club. This is the sister he claims his father cares more about than him.

Clementine frowned at the little girl and her intrusive question.

"You're a child." Clementine still hasn't lost the Russian accent she'd adopted after leaving the country to find The White Death. She avoids using it at The Son's behest, but makes an effort to occasionally revert to it, if only to give off the impression that it was her natural accent. She's not sure why, but he looks strangely at her when she does.

"You sound like my father," the girl says, her own accent a stark contrast.

"Roshan Resnikov?" 

"I'm Prince Resnikov."

"I know."

"Because you're my brother's girlfriend." It's not a question. Clementine corrects her anyways.

"Bodyguard." 

"That's not what he says."

"We," Clementine hesitates, unsure of how to even interact with a child, let alone explain the nuances of the situation to her, "play pretend," she finally settles on, "to keep him safe."

"You keep him safe?" Even at six the girl had a handle on conveying her disdain. Clementine is growing less fond of this girl by the moment. She sounds, just for a moment, like the White Death himself when Clementine had initially requested to work for him. Then, after a moment and without any warning, her gaze shifts to Clementine's bare forearms where she'd rolled up her sleeves, "you let people hurt you." 

Before Clementine can respond, however, an explosive shout comes from the next room -

"If you mispronounce Balenciaga one more time I'm going to kill myself!"

Both Clementine and The Prince look to the office door where they'd just heard The Son shout dramatically. Neither of them hear his father's reply, though the door remains close.

"Father and I don't take him seriously," the young girl says with such ease and casualness, but with a hint of something that sounds like a warning, something territorial. Father and I. 

"If your father didn't take him seriously he wouldn't have hired me."

The girl's expression scrunches up into something disbelieving. After another moment, she fixes Clementine with a scrutinising look, an unnerving look coming from any child let alone this one. 

"You'd be pretty if you didn't have those ugly scars," as if it's note most normal thing in the world, "and you don't talk right," she says, "you're meant to be nice to me." Clementine was unsure of what prompted this response; she thought she had been nice to the girl. In the years that followed, Clementine would learn that being nice to The Prince was just the same as being nice to her brother; humour them, but most importantly, agree with them. 

It was, unfortunately a truth that had carried on even to the present day.

In the bar cart, The Prince is suspiciously alone, of course apart from The Wolf's corpse still propped up in the corner. Her charge is wearing that Cheshire smile that has only ever meant bad things, watching Clementine with a kind of smugness that she knew set her bodyguard on edge. 

Clementine will not speak first, however, making a beeline for the bar. With lazy steps the young woman follows, going so far as to lean on the bar itself, chin resting on her hand with that same, watchful smile. 

"How is he?" 

Clementine glances at her out of the corner of her eye as she opens the bottle of expensive rum, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. The Prince sighs, as if disappointed with the non-answer, momentarily giving up the bit as she tipped her head to the side, the slightest frown gracing her youthful features.

"I do wish you'd watch your tone when answering my calls," The Prince doesn't actually tsk as she reprimands Clementine, but it's clearly there in her words.

"And I wish you wouldn't identify me to strangers in an effort to cause me problems, but we don't always get what we wish for," Clementine told her blithely, back to the girl as she pulled a cup from the shelf behind her.

"Yes, but he wasn't a stranger was he?" The Prince responds slyly.

"You didn't know that, did you?" Clementine frowns for a moment, looking up with genuine concern as she poured her drink. Of course it's a trap, and something almost malevolent lights up in the Prince's eyes.

"So he's not a stranger?" The Prince gives a mean little smile, adding, "I thought I may have recognised him myself," she shoots for nonchalance, "like I read something about him somewhere, or perhaps saw a picture." Clementine goes still, halfway through her first large sip of the liquor, the liquid burning her tongue. Looking over her shoulder, she meets The Prince's knowing gaze, the girl raising a single, perfect eyebrow as if in challenge. Clementine swallows the rum and slowly turns back to the girl, determined to put on a show of being unimpressed, even when alarms were going off in the back of her mind.

"He's worked for my father before," she says, gaze unwavering, like she's desperate for Clementine to react, "did you know?"

"I don't think this is -" Clementine puts her cup down, expression drawn where she meets The Prince's piercing gaze.

"Around twelve years ago, I think it was." She's giving Clementine this calculating look, as if trying to tell if Clementine knows more than she lets on. Clementine looks up blinks slowly, but it's enough for The Prince, the young woman whose known her for years, enough to divine meaning and truth from it. As if satisfied with Clementine's non-answer, The Prince raised herself from the bar, crossing her arms, cruel little smile gracing her lips, "oh how benevolent you are then, Scorpion, if your report from New York is to be believed."

"Where is Kimura?" Clementine asks instead of acknowledging The Prince's statement and it's implications. Clearly frustrated at Clementine's unwillingness to play along, the girl's grin drops, gaze flicking almost irately to the bathroom at the back of the carriage. 

"Busy," Clementine watches as the girl appears to physically shake off her irritation, like it passes through her like a shiver, leaving her as bright as she'd boarded the train. These little moments, these cracks Clementine is allowed to see in her mask, she finds fascinating; where there should be humanity is simply a tide of malevolence and intrigue. From observations and anecdotes she knows that The Prince is talented at gaining fear through respect; her classmates, her teachers, any authority she appeared to come across. Clementine wonders if that's one of the reasons she despises Clementine so strongly, since she could never get Clementine to do her bidding in the way that made her feel the most powerful.

"Still, you've reminded me -" tone chipper, The Prince brings Clementine out of her thoughts and back into their reality, "- let's go see him."

"Him?" Clementine already knows who, but she really doesn't like where The Prince is going with this. As if able to read her thoughts, she shakes her head as if Clementine were a child making a mistake.

"My darling brother," she sounds sincere despite being anything but, "I know he's here," the smile remained, but something had gone cold in the girl's eyes, "and I know you know too."

"How do you know?"

"I don't answer your questions, fruit fly." 

"How do you know your brother is on this train?" 

There's that look again, that intrigued and cruel kind of amusement in The Prince's expression. 

"It's taken you long enough to take me seriously," and beneath the cryptic wording, The Prince sounds almost triumphant. Turning on her heel she begins to flounce out, calling out that she's going with or without Clementine, and despite the day she was having, Clementine felt beholden to her station. Silent but swift, Clementine is following her back through first class. 

In the small segment between carriages, Clementine grabs The Prince by the arm, insistently pulling her to head down the righthand aisle instead. When she hisses for her not to draw attention, she considers it a small victory when The Prince rolls her eyes but agrees. Several carriages later, once more finding themselves in the space between carriages, upon seeing Lemon approaching them, Clementine shoves The Prince into the bathroom, despite the girl's many initial protests -

"Let me do my job!" Clementine hissed, and thankfully the girl relented just as the doors slid open and Lemon joined the confined area.

"Oh, sorry, I -" upon realising it was Clementine, he frowned in question.

"I am a human, I do still need to pee from time to time," she said with an irate awkwardness, "but I've been waiting here for almost ten minutes -" taking a chance on The Prince's love of schemes and nosy nature, she knocks on the bathroom door, and they both hear 'still occupied!' from inside.

"Oh," Lemon says rather lamely, taking it at face value and quickly moving on. 

"You owe me one," The Prince is practically preening as she leaves the stall, smug grin stretching from ear to ear. The momentary ruse had been convincing, Clementine concedes, but at what cost. Her client's ego hadn't needed even the smallest of boosts. 

Outside of third carriage, they again give pause. This time, it's The Prince who stops. 

"You never deserved any of it, you know that don't you?" For the first time in a long time, her tone is completely devoid of inflection. The Prince looks through the window to the passengers, while Clementine wonders if she can already see her brother, but doubts it, "neither did he, but at least he was family." 

And without elaboration, she steps forwards and into the carriage. Much slower, Clementine trails behind. She's not quite sure why she doesn't warn The Prince of her brother's state, perhaps to shock the girl, to see if her brother's death could genuinely rattle her, or perhaps a small part of her believes it would have been unnecessary, that she somehow already knew. 

She watches from several feet away as The Prince approaches her brother, expression unreadable. There's a moment, a single brief look that The Prince shoots to her bodyguard, the closest to hesitation that Clementine had ever seen from her, before she leaned in to get a proper look. Lifting his glass, Clementine can see he's still bleeding despite her earlier efforts to clean him, not that it mattered. Despite all the resentment she held towards him, she still flinches when The Prince spits on his corpse in disdain.

The silence between them as they head back is somehow the tensest Clementine has experienced in a long while. The Prince does not seem rattled, though she does seem somehow affected, though in what way that is Clementine can't begin to fathom. This time when she sees Lemon approaching, there's enough time for her to fit into the little cubical with The Prince herself. It's the second time she's been trapped in one of these bathrooms with another individual with probably malicious intent, yet somehow being here with The Prince was infinitely worse than her argument with Tangerine.

"You couldn't save him either," The Prince tells her coldly after several long moments of silence.

"Boomslang venom kills within thirty seconds," still, Clementine's tone does have notes of apology, not that the girl across from her much cared for them.

"How do you know that yet seemingly nothing useful?"

"I," Clementine gave pause, considering whether she should really be telling The Prince this, but figured that there was a chance it wouldn't matter after today finally ended, "hired a contractor once who used -"

"You couldn't save him if you tried," already bored of Clementine's explanation, The Prince cuts her off with a sneer and roll of her eyes. Then, cruelty bleeding through her tone, her lip curled as she looked over Clementine's attire, "you look like a joke." Biting back her retort that this is how The Prince insisted she had dressed, Clementine lets the girl have this moment over her; clearly she wanted to appear unscathed after confronting her dead brother. But he was still her family.

"I'll find some pants on the way back," Clementine concedes with a murmur, looking away from the girl, trying to give her the barest amount of privacy despite the space they were cramped in. Some of the tension in the The Prince's shoulders that had developed back in carriage three eased. It takes a few more moments before the telltale knock and Lemon's voice tentatively greeting the occupants of the bathroom. Lowering her voice and speaking Japanese, she tells him that it's occupied. After he apologises, she waits another quiet minute before letting them both out.

As promised, when they get to the next set of luggage racks just before they find themselves back at first class, Clementine puts her morals aside to find a pair of pants. Unfortunately, while her wording could have been kinder, The Prince had a point.

"I am curious," The Prince leans against the wall with her arms crossed as Clementine carefully picks the lock on a piece of luggage, "did you ever catch yourself actually caring about him?" And Clementine goes very still.

"In the beginning," she says softly, "I did care about whether he lived or died for more than just my own sake." Silence spills out between them as The Prince ruminates on Clementine's delicate answer. Clementine's not sure where her next words come from, unable to look at The Prince in these surprisingly honest moments. When she speaks, it's quiet enough that The Prince has to step forward, and she's switched to Russian, "when he was my priority, he was my everything," she admits, "and when he wasn't, I had once considered there to be no-one closer to me. I could have loved him, but he never saw me as a person," flicking a sharp look to The Prince, her voice turns sharp on the last few words, and knows without having to spell it out that The Prince understands; I know that you don't either.

"Can I ask you something, fruit fly?" It's not a real question, and the shift in both tone and language is almost jarring, like she was trying to dismiss Clementine's admission entirely, which was, of course, completely standard for The Prince in times like these. Still, Clementine nods, keeps her expression neutral as she's elbow deep in someone else's luggage, finally finding an appropriately sized pair of beige slacks.

"Knowing what you know now, what my father makes you do, how he'd make you my brother's babysitter and all that would entail," The Prince regards Clementine with this kind of scientific curiosity that she usually reserved for when she made Clementine 'test' her 'self defence' weapons, and Clementine steps towards the door to the previous carriage, "would you go back and keep your nose out of my family's business?" It's that same curious but disconnected tone, but the wording catches Clementine by surprise. Looking back at her charge she can see the malice in the girl's eyes despite her deceptively sweet expression.

"No."

For just a second The Prince's expression appears to twist involuntarily furious, betraying her.

"Of course not," almost as if to herself, sounding genuinely frustrated. Then, after a moment, as Clementine disappears through first class to the bar cart she hoped would have remained undisturbed, "why not?" Still sounding irate, The Prince picks up her pace to catch up to Clementine, snapping at her loud enough that one of the few remaining patrons in first class glared at her pointedly.

Once in the bar cart, Clementine turns on the young woman.

"Why does it matter?"

As if realising that she'd had something of an emotional outbursts, The Prince schools her expression and posture into something that reads as otherwise unaffected.

"It doesn't," she shrugs, looking away, her gaze landing on The Wolf still propped up in the corner. Clementine knows her well enough to know The Prince was still both curious and furious.

"It matters to you, Malen'kiy Prints," Clementine pushes, unable to help the faint, triumphant smirk, "don't ever forget that I could have been family; you should be glad I never married your brother -"

"I wish you had!" The Prince snaps, "I wish he'd bought you like he wanted and kept you far, far away from me for the rest of your tragic little life. You could have just pissed off to be his little lapdog you wouldn't keep ruining everything in our lives, you- you- you selfish, little Scorpion! You ruin everything you touch!"

After a long, shocked silence, Clementine takes a deep breath and starts stepping out of her shoes. The Prince let's out a shrill, frustrated noise, stalking over to one of the free lounges, throwing herself onto it, slouched down, scowling, altogether unladylike, a sharp change from the carefully calm composure she carried herself with most other times.

As she's putting on the pants beneath her skirt, Clementine's voice is the only sound other than the quiet hum of the train.

"Is this about your mother?" Clementine switches to Russian once, and The Prince turns her furious scowl upon her bodyguard.

"Of course it's about my mother, Scorpion," she spits back, initially matching Clementine's Russian before she switches back to a contempt-filled English, "she thought you hung the stars in the sky all because my idiot brother was obsessed with you," she rolls her eyes, finally looking away, "I can't believe she let him give you Baba's ring just for you to turn him down," she scoffed, lip curling as she watched Clementine now take off her skirt with the pants secured, "and you still got her killed."

"I did everything I could I -"

"It wasn't enough," The Prince glowers, finally sitting forward and levelling a look of anger and betrayal at Clementine, "and it's all your fault."

The accusation genuinely surprises Clementine, who begins to internally panic - how had The Prince come to this conclusion? She'd been so careful. Keeping a cool head, she decides to play dumb, hoping the The Prince knew less than her accusation implied.

"It was an accident."

"You were her bodyguard, my father trusted you. She wouldn't have even been in that car if my brother hadn't got himself arrested knowing our mother would bail him out; he knew you would be with her."

"He didn't get arrested to see me -"

"Of course he did! Because he knows our mother was on his side, but you couldn't be convinced! You couldn't just let him love you, couldn't let him have you like everyone in our family wanted!"

Clementine let's her rant, watching the girl get worked up in a way that only seemed to happen around her, in just the same way that The Son could only keep his lackadaisical demeanour for so long when Clementine refused to humour him. Part of her wishes she was less adept at getting under the skin of The White Death's children; they often bottled things up, and it seemed like Clementine was the only one they felt the need to lash out at from time to time.

"If you want to blame me," Clementine says carefully, "I'm not going to stop you."

"Oh I do," The Prince says matter-of-factly, punctuating it with a humourless bark of laughter, "I think my father should have killed you and the only reason you're still alive is because he knew mother was soft on you."

"She was always good to me," Clementine agreed, "I tried everything I could to save her," she then lied, "I'm sorry I survived," she pointed out rather firmly, and The Prince pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes as she regained her composure from easier. Standing, she smooths out the pleats of her skirt, taking a deep breath before she turns, expression carefully neutral.

"Come here, fruit fly," and she crooks a finger at Clementine without looking at her. Clementine fights the urge to roll her eyes at the petty power move, but takes the four steps to be beside The Prince.

Turning, The Prince steps into her space, a show of intimidation, but Clementine doesn't back down, doesn't step away.

"I don't care," she says in a dangerously quiet voice, gaze shallow as she meets Clementine's, "how many near death experiences you've supposedly survived, I don't care how resilient you are, how they say you're downright unkillable, Cockroach," she takes hold of the knot of Clementine's tie firmly, voice never wavering, threatening demeanour never dropping, "you see the second my father finally stops having a use for you, I will squash you like the bug you are. I will use everything in my power to make sure I am the one to make your actions have conveniences; I promise," she emphasises eyes going dark, "that I will be the one to make it stick."

As lucky as The Prince is, Clementine wonders if it would be enough.

The Prince tightens the tie tight enough to be uncomfortable around Clementine's neck, like a reminder of her supposed power over her bodyguard.

"Would you like me to set up a reminder in your calendar, ma'am?" Clementine's expression goes a vacant kind of pleasant, as her tone turned sweet and immediately eager to be a people pleaser.

The Prince gives her a look of utter disgust.

"You're trying too hard," The Prince scoffs, stepping away, shaking out her hands as if dirty simply from being in contact with Clementine.

"Sorry, ma'am."

"Go away before you ruin this too," her lip curls.

"Your plan, ma'am?"

"Obviously."

"May I ask -"

"You absolutely may not. Go away -"

Clementine's at the door when she hears her phone go off in her purse. The Prince makes an insistent shooing gesture, but Clementine tells her that it could be her father and she relents with an eye roll.

Except it's not an unknown number, the type The White Death usually calls with. It's the number she'd so desperately hoped would still be active only an hour before.

The name Daddy❤️ lights up the screen, and Clementine is stunned enough that it takes The Prince reminding her to answer it before she does.

"Do you have a gun?" Tangerine on the other end of the line sounds exhausted and put upon all at once.

"I- no, I-" she stumbles over her words for a moment as The Prince is asking if it's her father, "I don't have a gun on me," Clementine tells him while waving a dismissive hand at The Prince, "I gave yours back."

"And I gave it to Lemon," Tangerine sighs, "it's fine if you don't have one," though it doesn't exactly sound like it from his tone, "but how quickly can you get to the front of the train?"

"Do you need a gun?" The Prince says with surprising interest.

"Why do you need a gun?" Clementine frowns, "or me?"

"Our boss has decided to send another welcoming party to make sure we're all on schedule -"

"Fuck."

"Yeah."

"And you need me to -"

"Vouch for us again, yes. Consistency," after a beat he adds, "and he may or may not have threatened to kill everyone on the train if you weren't with us."

"So he knows," Clementine mutters darkly.

"Of course he does," but Tangerine simply matches her defeated tone in the moment.

"I have a gun," The Prince says nonchalantly over Clementine's shoulder, and Clementine momentarily covers the receiver to scowl at her.

"Why do you have a gun?!" She whisper-shouts.

"Excuse you I was almost murdered with it earlier today," The Prince sounds offended to have had to remind Clementine of Kimura's gun that she'd been fussing with earlier, "but you can borrow if it means you'll leave quicker."

After a moment of serious deliberation, she uncovers the receiver.

"I can get a gun."

"Brilliant," Tangerine actually breaths a sigh of relief, "hopefully we won't need it, but -"

"Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it, I guess... I still don't like guns-" Clementine hears an unfamiliar voice in the background of Tangerine's call.

"Who is that?"

"I'll explain when you get here," and he hangs up. After taking a moment to steel herself, Clementine turns to see The Prince smiling brightly at her, completely at odds with her frustrated demeanour only moments ago.

"I can get you a gun," wearing a wide, almost innocent smile.

"I have so many questions."

"And I will answer none of them, because that's not how our relationship works, fruit fly," she says, having regained that menacing, chipper attitude with which she usually walked through the world. It takes Clementine a moment for her to process the full situation before she submits to it, closing her eyes and nodding once. While she hears The Prince chuckle softly and move to the back of the carriage and it's bathroom, Clementine keeps her eyes closed. However, with the buzzing of the phone in her hands, her eyes snap back open.

Unknown.

The last damn thing she needs. 

And perhaps it's the alcohol or the onslaught of situations that would have overwhelmed a lesser person, but just for a moment her frustration escapes her.

"What?" She sighed, irate. What followed, however, was silence.

"Tone, Scorpion." The White Death's voice chills her to her core.

"I'm so sorry, sir," right as she realises her mistake she's internally berating herself, heading to the seat The Prince had recently vacated, trying her best to sound accommodating, "how can I help -"

"Your intuition has exceeded my expectations," something about his tone set her hair on end, "you are taking responsibility for both of my children." It's not a question. He knows something's wrong, of course he does; Clementine knows with absolute sincerity that he does not intend her to survive the night.

She pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Of course, sir, I'm just glad you thought to hire the operatives you did to get your son here."

"If my Little Prince hadn't been in your care already I would have had you retrieve him, however," the telling words sour for a moment on his tongue, "priorities."

"I understand," she muttered disdainfully, "but his," her nose wrinkled for a moment, "couriers, I guess you could call them, they're off the hook are they? You knew I'd be on this train, you knew I'd find him searching for my bonus, you knew I'd take responsibility for him from there."

("You couldn't save him either.")

"Of course my little Scorpion, after all, I'm confident you know better than to let harm befall my foolish Frog of a son."

"Of course, sir."

"Good to hear," he says slowly, really letting the moment sink in, "then I suppose if you're willing to give up your bonus, let The Twins return my briefcase to me as they initially intended, my son's care will fall squarely on you, as will the reward for his safe return; double what was promised to you in that bonus."

Despite how he's sweetening the deal, Clementine knows there's no real light for her at the end of this tunnel. But maybe, just maybe, if she could convince The Prince to hand over the briefcase, she could get it to Tangerine and Lemon. 

"Was it a test?"

"It was my way of guaranteeing you would find my son."

"So all Lemon and Tangerine need to do is give you back your case? And if anything happens to your son, it's on me?"

"Has something happened to my son?"

"No," Clementine lies easily, "but if I punch him in his foolish mouth I don't want them being punished too."

"Yours is the only head on the chopping block for my son."

Clementine is quiet for a very long moment, eyes closed as she breathed deeply. After a few beats of silence, The White Death's voice is quiet when he speaks.

"Is that all, Scorpion?" Something about it is almost - almost - concerned. Almost - almost - like he cared.

"Can I ask you something, sir?" She hears The White Death huff the faintest laugh. She takes it as permission, "did you intend for me to kill Tangerine?"

"Yes," he says after a long moment, voice completely devoid of humour, "now, then," she knows in this moment that he means back in New York, "I know what he did to you, and I know you know, Little Scorpion; what he did to you, to..." he sighs, trailing off, clearly having forgotten the name he was searching for. Hearing it all, Clementine feels like her blood is fire in her veins, eyes squeezed tightly shut as she holds the phone to her ear and tries to hold herself together. The fire beats with a demand for retribution that she could never fully forget.

"Ilyanka."

"Ilya," there's a strange tone to The White Death's voice, a darkness that appears only in his muttering of the name, "I tried to give you catharsis. You bargain with me for him, remove him from accountability for my son. I do not understand you." In this moment, though she's not sure why, she hears a familiar voice from a long time passed, the same tone, blue eyes and cruelty in the blood, it's the same confusion and disbelief at Clementine herself that The Prince had always held, even all those years ago; what is wrong with you?

"You knew," it's not a question this time, though she just hopes he can't hear the betrayal in her voice.

"Of course I knew," is said with surprising care, "and I am always sorry it happened to you, Little Scorpion."

"Of course you knew," Clementine choked out, the fire in her veins now white-hot to hear him say these things when she knew he was lying about his own involvement, and just how long he'd known. Except he reads her reaction as merely sorrow, his voice surprisingly gentle as he calls her Little Scorpion in a voice far kinder than she'd ever heard him speak to his own son.

"Can I ask you another question?" This time her shaky voice is met with silence, yet still she goes ahead, "why are you telling me this?"

"Do you not think you've earned my trust after all these years?" His tone demands an answer.

Clementine has so much blood on her hands.

"I- thank you, sir."

#tangerine bullet train #tangerine x oc #tangerine x reader #tangerine imagine #bullet train tangerine #tangerine bullet train imagine #tangerine bullet train x reader #tangerine bullet train x oc #bullet train #bullet train imagine #bullet train x oc #bullet train oc #the prince bullet train #the white death bullet train #its in my nature

[tinytiger]

The Hobbit- A Kili x F!Reader Fanfic

The Unexpected Party

Masterlist

In the heart of Middle-earth, (Y/N), daughter of an elven king and a dwarf embarks on a quest to reclaim her heritage. Joining Thorin Oakenshield's company, she finds herself drawn to Kili, a dwarf prince. As they journey towards Erebor, (Y/N) confronts the challenges of her mixed bloodline and discovers the true meaning of family. Amidst laughter and camaraderie, she uncovers secrets buried within the mountain and embraces her role as a beacon of hope in the darkness.

Words- 3594 x

The arrow hit its target.

“Yes!” a h/c hair elf cheered, only she wasn’t an elf she had dwarf blood in her too. Most of her was dwarf, she would live as long as them, and she would be as tall as a normal she-dwarf, but she had elf ears, could speak fluent elvenish and could use elven healing, which she only used on herself and her father.

Sighing, she began to walk back to where she had tied up her pony. She thought back to yesterday when her dream had been turned away from her just because of her protective father.

*Flashback*

As Y/n dusted the wood shavings off of her apron she began humming a song she remembered her mother sung to her back when she was alive. Of course, she remembered her real mother and father, but they never came to get her back. News that the young elf princess had been missing travelled fast across Middle Earth, but no one connected it to Y/n. As she walked out of her room to place the arrow she had just finished making with her stuff outside she heard Bilbo’s raised voice echo through the door that had been painted only a week ago.

“There will be no adventures around here! Thank you and-“

Y/n stuck her head out of the door and her eyes met the dazzling colour that belonged to a wizard she knew quite well. 

“Adventure?” she asked completely stepping out of the door and standing next to her father, her beautiful eyes glinting as she bounced on the balls of her feet. 

“Why, Ms Y/n. Yes I do believe you two would be perfect for the vacancies!” exclaimed Gandalf as he chuckled at the whooping young lady in front of her.

“Yes, I would love to go, when, where, what are we doing? Is there the option I might die? it sounds like I’m in!” Y/n cheered running up to where she hid the bow and sword from Bilbo, who in surprise and shock thought that those two things were in the bottom of his drawers Y/n was never allowed to touch.

“No way on Middle Earth are you going on this adventure!” Bilbo shouted as she jumped over the wall of his front garden. Y/n’s head shot up as looked at him with utter disappointment. 

“But Father I-“

“Don’t you dare ‘but father’ me young lady, we talked about this. I hid that from you for a reason.” Gandalf looked at the two and smiled. 

“I’m sorry Gandalf, but I will not allow you to infect her mind with ideas of this adventure you speak of. Come over for tea, tomorrow. Yes come over tomorrow and don’t talk about adventure with my daughter. Umm, good day!” 

And with that, he closed the door swiftly but not to seem rude, after all, wizards were wizards.

He sighed, Y/n was in the kitchen. Her shoulders slumped.

Bilbo sighed again, he hated arguing with her, and she always won.

“When did you take the swords and bow from my draws?” he asked as he sat at the table drinking his cup of tea.

Y/n chuckled and said with a smile adorning on her face, “ When you came back from Mister Gamgees about 7 years ago. You were a bit on the booze, so I saw the opportunity and dashed into your drawing room. They have been hidden in the bush outside, in a case I bought.”

She had fully turned around her green dress waving around her feet like the sea.

Bilbo laughed and pushed a cup of tea towards her, the two spent the night playing cards until the moon was high in the sky.

*End of Flashback*

Y/n noticed how dark it was and quickly got on her black pony Stumpy and quickly rode home. Bilbo had told her to be back before it got dark for tea. She was doing this to hope that Bilbo would let her go on the adventure of her lifetime.

 When she arrived at the hobbit's house, she quickly tied up Stumpy. She pushed the door open, and a sight met her eyes she would never forget:

Four dwarves were pushing and pulling on a table that wouldn’t go through a door, Bilbo was trying to stop them and as soon as she walked through the door all five heads turned to see her. Y/n chuckled, hung up her cloak, unbuckled the sword hustler from her waists that held only her to daggers and placed her weapons on a chair to her left. She looked back at the dwarves and saw two young ones and two old ones. 

“Ummm. Who is the lass?” one said. He had a shaved head and tattoos all over his muscular arms.

 “This is Y/n, my adopted daughter,” Bilbo said as he wiped the sweat from his eyebrows.

 Suddenly all four dwarves dropped the table and stood in a line to greet her. First, a dwarf who had white hair and his name was Balin, then a blonde dwarf with a beard who was called Fili, then came the one who asked you who she was, and his name was Dwalin, then finally a very handsome dwarf kissed her hand and winked at her. 

He had brown curly hair which fell down to his shoulder and brown eyes that sparkled, he unlike his brother Fili, had only some small stubble. His name was Kili. Blushing, she went to help Bilbo get the table of his foot. 

“Why, on middle earth are there four dwarves here? She hissed to Bilbo. He quite loudly whispered back to her glaring at them. 

“No clue.” Y/n quickly went to her room and pulled her hair over her ears.

 Dwarves and Elves never had a good relationship, and she had the idea they knew a lot more about her than she would like.

When she left her room, she was met by a lot more dwarves than there were originally. Then Y/n stopped as she saw Gandalf talking to a dwarf with a grey beard and holding a tray. 

She stomped over and asked, “Gandalf who are these…. dwarves.”

 Trying not to sound too rude she didn’t want to call them a name she would regret.

 “My dear Y/n these are the dwarves of Erebor, we have Dwalin, Balin, Kili, Fili, Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur. We are one short though.” Gandalf said pointing at each dwarf at the sound names then sighing. 

“He went to see our kin, in the iron hills. He will be here soon.” Dwalin said leaning against the doorway. 

Y/n walked over to the table and sat down between Kili and Bofur. Then Fili walked onto the table passing everyone a beer and stopping at her. She raised an eyebrow and took the mug out of his hands.

 She slushed the beer around in its mug. Y/n had had this beer before, and she liked it. Looking up she saw every dwarf looking at her with now wet beards as they had all downed their beers.

 “Come, lass,” Bofur said slapping her on the back. Then Y/n spotted Bilbo looking at her shaking his head at her. She smirked at him shrugging her shoulders she knocked her head back as she downed the beer. 

Not spilling a drop. 

When she placed the mug back down, she looked around at the dwarves, mouths open, very wide. Bilbo huffed and threw his arms in the air. Then she felt an arm go around her shoulders, she looked up to meet chocolate brown eyes. She felt her face warm up, then she moved backwards.

 Only to fall into Bofur, who moved backwards, making Y/n fall off the table and bagging her head. A burst of laughter erupted from the room. Then Kili wrapped his arms under Y/n and pulled her up to sit next to him.

 “So, lass, what’s a young girl like you doing slushing down beer like a dwarven maiden,” Balin said. Y/n felt her heart drop. 

“I’m part dwarf and-,” Y/n said staring at her mug. 

“An elf?” Balin said as she tucked her hair behind her ears. Y/n looked up and the dwarfs were all smiling. 

 “Lass, don’t worry your head, we know what you are!” Dwalin said smacking her in the back. 

“You do!” She expressed.

 To her left Kili put his arm around her and smiled. 

“Of course, many dwarves have fallen for elves before!” Kili winked at the group as Y/n’s face grew hot. She stood up and went to find Bilbo. He was not enjoying the company as much as she was. He was whisper-shouting at Gandalf.

 “And I don’t even want to mention what they have done in the toilet.” Y/n giggled as she walked up to Bilbo and said, “I think they are lovely, and maybe they could tell me a bit about my mother.” 

Then Ori came over to them and asked. 

“I am sorry to interrupt but where shall I put my plate?” Y/n opened her mouth to speak but then Fili said.

 ”Here Ori give it here.” Then he threw it over his head towards Kili who caught it and then threw it back into the kitchen.

 “Hey, I need my head,” Y/n said as the second plate narrowly missed her if she hadn’t ducked. Then Biblo ran back into the kitchen where the table had been placed Y/n heard Kili sing:

Blunt the knives, bend the forks

Y/n looked up at him and smiled then Fili sang.

Smash the bottles and burn the corks!

Chip the glasses and crack the plates.

The rest of the dwarves joined in 

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

Laughing Y/n joined in ducking at the odd plate or so. Then Kili jumped next to her and started to spin her around. Her h/c hair followed behind her. 

Cut the cloth, tread on the fat.

Leave the bones on the bedroom mat.

Pour the milk on the pantry floor.

Splash the wine on every door!

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowls.

Pound them up with a thumping pole

When you're finished if they are whole

Send them down the hall to roll.

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

After what felt like hours of dancing and ducking, Y/n finally stopped next to Kili, who had a little pipe in his hand. All the dwarves were laughing, and Y/n was chuckling earning a look from Bilbo.

Then a loud harsh knock Bilbo rushed to get it and Y/n followed after Gandalf said hoarsely 

“He is here”.

 In front of Y/n and Bilbo was a handsome dwarf who had deep blue eyes, Y/n had recognised him and by the looks of it, so did he.

Then he walked in through the door and mumbled something about getting lost twice, but Y/n didn’t hear. 

She was too busy trying to remember where she had seen him before when something Gandalf had said brought her out of her trance.

 “This is Bilbo and Y/n is the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.” Y/n looked up and gasped.

 She remembered something, her mother. 

On her birthday, her best friend Dis visited she showed the two a picture of her sons and brother, Thorin was the brother. Then Thorin looked at Biblo, not noticing the girl standing to his left. He did not look impressed,

“What is your weapon of choice axe or sword?” Y/n mentally face palmed herself when she heard the words coming out of Bilbo’s mouth. 

“I am quite skilled at conkers if you must not, but I see no reason on how that is at all relevant.” Sighing Thorin looked at Gandalf and said, “Are we making any more stops, I said to find the 14th and 15th members of the company. I only see one.” 

Y/n stepped out of the dark corner she slunked herself into.

“Good to see you to Thorin.” Thorin then spun around to see a spitting image of his sister’s best friend standing in front of him. 

“There Thorin is our 15th member,” Gandalf said pointing to Gwen. She smirked but then it dropped when Fili opened his mouth and spoke. 

“But Gandalf she is a girl, I bet she can’t even defend herself.” With a flash, Y/n pulled a dagger out of her pocket and threw it at Fili, narrowly missing his face but cutting off some of his beard and ramming into the wall behind him.  Bilbo gasped and the rest of the company chuckled. 

“You’re Namath’s daughter aren’t you,” Thorin said as he walked over to the kitchen table, nodding his head to his kin. 

“Yes, I am,” Y/n said following him and making him a plate of food.

 Thorin chuckled as he sat down. Then the rest of the company joined him. Y/n stood at the corner of the table until Kili beckoned her over. Y/n walked over and squatted beside him.

 “How do you know my uncle?” He said looking down at her, his eyes counting each freckle on her nose. 

“He knew my mother,” Y/n said standing up again after her thighs started to hurt her. She began to walk away but then Kili grabbed her hand and pulled her to sit next to him and Fili. Then Y/n lent towards Fili and said, 

“Sorry about earlier, I just hate it when people say stuff like that.” Fili chuckled and said back

 “It's fine, you can defend yourself.”

Y/n wanted to talk to Thorin about her mother, but more important things stood in the way. Gandalf was telling us about some map when she noticed him pull out a key from his sleeve. Thorin looked at it as if it were a puppy that just spoke. 

“If there’s a key, there must be a door,” Fili said. Y/n smiled at the thought she would be helping the company get back to their home and her mother’s old home. 

Then the dwarves started to shout about something when Thorin stood and shouted 

“Ath gjorv!” Y/n understood what he had said. As a young child, her mother had taught her Dwarvish, and she still spoke it but only she wanted to swear. All the dwarves fell silent, and then Thorin said. 

”The dragon, Smaug hasn’t been seen for 60 years. So, we still cannot just go barging in.” They all looked down and Ori said, 

“We will never get our home back.” 

 Y/n felt Kili move forward, and his knee moved towards hers. 

“But you don’t remember we have Gandalf on the team, I bet he has killed thousands of Dragons in his time.” He said smiling at every dwarf.

 Y/n looked up and saw Gandalf go pink with embarrassment, and instantly Y/n could tell that he had killed 0 dragons in his time. Then all the dwarves started to cheer again and even Y/n joined in this time, she would help get these dwarfs their home back, even if Bilbo said she couldn’t.

 “You will need a burglar then.” Y/n looked up to see Bilbo had walked behind Thorin. 

“And an expert one too.” Y/n laughed, Bilbo was walking straight into this one.

 “And are you?” Oin asked leaning forward. 

“Am I what?” Bilbo asked scratching his head.  

“He says he is an expert!” All the dwarves cheer again but Bilbo cuts them off by shouting 

“I am not a burglar! Neither is Y/n... I think.” 

Kili and Fili start to chuckle. 

“Well, there were a few times when I was out of arrows, and I used to get some from Mr. Jones. But then again I was 50.” Y/n said earning a glare from Bilbo. 

“I am afraid I agree with Mr Baggins, he is no Burglar, but the lass has shown great skill in defending herself, maybe she would like to come?” Balin said looking at Bilbo and then y/n who nodded her head as Balin passed her a contract.

 But before she could get it out of the old man’s hands Bilbo snatched it away from her. Y/n got up and walked over to him as he read. 

“Incineration!” Bilbo said after struggling to say the word for some time. 

“Oh yeah, Smaug would melt the flesh right off your bones,” Bofur said leaning around the doorway. Then Y/n grabbed the contract and lifted it higher so Bilbo couldn’t reach it. As she read through the pages, her heart lifted with every sentence, this looked like fun and she would get a 15th share. Then she said earning looks from the company, 

“Many ways to die, sounds like my kind of adventure.” Then she turned around and saw Bilbo lying on the floor. She sighed; he had fainted.

“Thanks for that Bofur.”  y/n heard Gandalf say as he moved forward and helped Y/n carrying Bilbo into a chair. 

After Bilbo had been placed in the chair, Y/n went to get a quill to sign the contract. She smiled looking down at the long curvy signature. She was going on an adventure, to claim back her mother's homeland. Then she remembered she had wanted to ask Thorin about her mother, so she found him talking to Balin. She handed over the contract and looked at Thorin. 

“So, I was wondering if you could tell me anything about my mother?” she asked after Balin walked away. Thorin smiled at her. 

“Sure, thing lass, well where do I begin? She looked exactly like you to start with, and…. She was a really good friend of mine, She and Dis were best friends so, she also was an exceptionally good fighter.” He said trying to remember what her mother was like. 

“But she went for a long expedition to visit her uncle in the iron hills, when Orcs had attacked her, she had put up a good fight, but one Orc came behind her, and she fainted. But when she opened her eyes, she was in a bed with your father looking at her. Dis visited her twice, one time when she was pregnant with you and then when you were born, she gave you a bow, which I saw on the chair by the door.”

 Y/n laughed. Her mother was exactly how she wanted to know her. But what she didn’t know was how she died.

 “Do…. Do you know how she died?” she asked. Thorin’s eyes fell, staring at the ground. Thorin did know how the young woman’s mother died but he didn’t want to tell afraid that she would go after the one responsible for her mother’s death.

 “No, Y/n I do not know. I am deeply sorry.” Thorin said pulling Y/n into a warm hug.

After the little pep talk with Thorin, Y/n found Biblo was awake and talking to Gandalf, but being the sneaky girl, she was she just listened in to their conversation. 

“Gandalf will you make sure me and (y/n)  both come back, I know she wants to go on an adventure it’s probably her mother shining in her as I am told, but… I am not going.” Gandalf sighed and Y/n walked away head hung low.

 As she walked out of the billiard room, she heard Balin say. “I believe we have lost our burglar, but we have 14 which is better.” She smiled at him and went to sit on the stool by the fire. After staring at it for a couple of minutes all the dwarves came in and started to sing.

Far over the misty mountain cold 

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away ere break of day. 

To seek our pale enchanted gold.

Y/n had loved the singing of the dwarves. It was so peaceful and calm. She also remembered this tale, her mother used to sing it when she was younger, and she would always laugh when she tried to do a very deep voice.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells.

While hammers fell like ringing bells

In place deep, where dark things sleep.

In hallow halls beneath the fells

Bilbo could hear the singing from the billiard room, he was thinking of dragons and fire and gold. Then a fire lit inside him and he wanted to hold a sword instead of a walking stick. Then he shook his head, he was being silly.

For ancient kings and elvish lord

There many a gleaming golden hoard

They shaped a wrought, and light they caught.

To hide in gems on the hilt of sword

On silver necklaces, they strung

The flowering stars on crowns they hung.

The dragon fire in twisted wire

They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the misty mountain cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away ere break of day.

To find our long-forgotten gold.

By the end of the song, Y/n and Bilbo were fast asleep. Gandalf pulled on a blanket over Bilbo, while Thorin picked up Y/n bridal style and placed her on the sofa in front of the fire, kicking Bofur off it. Then he leaned over the girl's sleeping body and kissed her forehead. 

#kili x reader #kili durin #hobbit #xreader

[the-void-writes]

Your faith is the blade. Your love is your weapon.

Thank you for the opportunity to showcase some Henry, because I don’t give this guy enough credit lol. I know he’s not as fun as Rio, but he brings me joy 💖

TW for mentions of blood

Freaks of Preston - Henry

“Mister Prescott, you’re not serious are you?”

Henry stood between Vesely and Jason with his fists tightened around a training staff, ready to swing it down on Vesely’s head. For a man as short and round and soft-looking as Henry, he had an intense stare, more so than any of the soldiers he had just ducked past. He stood his ground, even when Vesely stepped closer. The lights made his toxic eyes shimmer as he spoke.

“You have no chance here. It would only take one touch to incapacitate you.”

Henry didn’t move an inch. Jason’s weak hand clawed at his leg, begging him to step back and run, but they both knew he wouldn’t. He would never leave Jason behind again, intentional or not. Henry raised the staff over his shoulder, ready to give Jason any chance to get out of the lab. Vesely looked him over, picking him apart slowly and hungrily, as though this was just a typical testing day for him.

“May I ask why you’re here, Mister Prescott?”

Henry furrowed his brows. “Are you kidding me?”

“Beyond this fight, I mean. We’re all well-aware of who you’re fighting for.” He cleared his throat, as though the very idea left a bitter taste in his mouth. “I’m just curious as to why a Human allowed himself to fall for a Freak.”

Henry let out a long, tired sigh. “Great, another classist.”

“Classist?”

“You know— ‘Freaks with Freaks and Humans with Humans?’ You’re all so scared to have your precious bloodlines tainted that you put your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Vesely gave him a small, unnatural smile. “So, you don’t believe in separation? You think we’re on equal terms?”

“I’m not naive, sir. I know I’m not powerful or intelligent or anything fancy… but I love Jason, and I love our kids.”

Henry took a single step forward, his stance daring Vesely to try and attack.

“So when I knock that smug grin off your face, it’s not out of prejudice. It’s because you hurt my family, you miserable bastard.”

Vesely stood eerily still, his hand resting under his chin as he spoke to himself.

“A soldier with no side in the war… So, this is what Jason wants.”

Henry jumped at the sensation of another hand on his leg. Jason was trying to climb back onto his feet, wobbling as Henry pulled him up the rest of the way. His left wing was a mess of damp, feathery clumps, staining Henry’s hand red.

“You need to get out of here,” Henry said. “Find the kids, they can take you to a doctor—”

He stopped as Jason put his finger over his mouth. The poor man looked ghastly, fading in and out of consciousness as he stumbled. And yet, even with his blood dripping onto the tiles like rain, he stood tall, prepared to fight beside Henry.

“You can barely stand, Jay. I can’t let you get hurt again.”

Jason didn’t step away. He took Henry’s hand and placed it over his heart, which felt oddly calm against his fingers.

“Jay, please…”

He leaned down close to Henry, his lips brushing his ear as he whispered.

“I love you.”

Henry sighed and held him tight. For years, he had wished to hear those words again, and he refused to lose them a second time.

“I love you, too.”

#writeblr #ask games #wip: freaks of preston

[ask-healthy-light]

New Names

Every night, the girls would return to meet me. Every night, at midnight, they would be there, at the tree, in the clearing where we met for the first time. It was a time before they needed to move the Sun and Moon themselves, and it afforded us the opportunity to spend time together. In place of the Princesses, back then, a counsil of Unicorns and Alicorns carried their duty. I don't remember the exact story of why the Moon and Sun needed to be moved by Ponykind. In any case, when I met them back then, they were not yet Royal Princesses, and were not yet burdened with their current duties, which allowed them more freedom to meet me every evening. Before their ascention, they were 'just' lady Luna and lady Celestia, and they were absolutely incredible. But back then, I hadn't told them my name yet, for, at the time, I felt it was not necessary for them to know. And so, every night, for many moons, we spoke from midnight to midday, often until after they needed to return home. But they never minded taking the extra time to listen to my enchanting songs or many tales of the forest I learnt over the years. In return, after listening to my stories and songs, they would often tell me stories of their incredible victories in battles they fought. They wielded great weapons, and whenever their old weapon was replaced, I was always the first to see it. Luna's mace and Celestia's sword were incredible crafts, which was clearly visible in their expressions of pure excitement. One day, the day came they finally asked my name, and I was stunned into silence. Until then, to them, I had just been Mister Tree, a little nickname they gave me because of how we met. When I told them my name, Andraku, which meant 'Worthless' in Old Ponish, they were stunned in return, and their expressions told me enough to figure out what they thought, which was not pretty. Apparently, it was 'tradition' to name the Markless a terrible name in order to ward off demons and evil spirits that preyed on the Markless. Or, at least, that's what I was told, because I knew it really was another way to insult me, and others like me. After hearing this, their expressions turned sour, but quickly brightened up again, and they gave me a new name: Lord. I was very confused as I did not own any land, nor ruled over anyone. In fact, we didn't even own the house I lived in with my family. Every day, we worked until our backs were sore, just to have a roof over our heads at night. They told me that they chose that name for me because they sensed the heart of a Noble in me. And I believed them. I believed everything they told me. They finally made me feel like I was more than just a random Markless Pony, and when they told me my new name, I cried. More than I ever had before. It was the first time that I remember ever being treated as an equal. That same day, they told me they would be residing in my home town for a while, and afterwards, every evening, they would be at the door, waiting to walk with me to our favourite spot. I think that was the day I fell in love with them. I can honestly not remember a time before that moment that I ever felt better than after they gave me my new name and met up with me to listen to my stories. The boost of confidence I got when I saw the looks on the faces of others, when they saw me, a Markless, waited upon by two stunningly beautiful Alicorns, was incredible. I tried my best to not let it get to my head. But I admit, I didn't always succeed. I was happy, and not afraid to show it. Written by: @thedumbguywithaheart43 Edited by: @jdeck306

(Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

Send an ask or request! | Start at the beginning! | Next part!

#story related #the markless lord #my little pony #writing #oc #princess luna #princess celestia

[teachlong]

Encouraging lunch box notes for adults

#Encouraging lunch box notes for adults pdf#

#Encouraging lunch box notes for adults free#

If you have daughters, we have lunchbox notes made just for them, but that’s not all. Our boys (especially the ones who act tough) need to know they always have love and warmth coming from Mom, and a little note in the middle of the day is a great way to send a hug. As he opens the bag, he’ll sit a little taller because he knows his mom thinks he’s an amazing kid. You could even print these lunchbox notes for boys on adhesive paper and stick one to a bag of chips or those tasty fruit snacks. So keep them in a secret (but handy) place, and after your son’s lunch is packed, grab your scissors and cut out the note that you think will bring a smile to his face. No matter who he sits with or what he has to eat, he will be uplifted when he is encouraged by the fun note you left for him. Slip one into his lunchbox to brighten his day, to thank him for his hard work, to affirm his good choices, and to express what all boys need to know: how loved he is.

#Encouraging lunch box notes for adults free#

You can lighten your son’s load with these free and cute printable lunchbox notes for boys. Your son spends eight hours a day at school-and some school days can be tough. But there’s something you can add to his packed lunch that will be just as exciting for him as his favorite lunchtime side dish: lunchbox notes for boys.

#Encouraging lunch box notes for adults pdf#

I hope you enjoy these free printable lunch box notes ideas.ĭownload the lunch box notes free printables PDF here.It’s lunchtime! When your son sits down in front of his lunchbox in the cafeteria at school, what does he look forward to most? Probably the fruit snacks. It’s getting a little nugget of Truth into his day. In any event, He loves the Bible and so those notes mean a lot to him. I know one day, he will be kicked out of school for his love of Christ, perhaps taken out by me if I can ever get God to agree that homeschooling is best. I will never, ever discourage him from that. He is on fire for Christ and wants to be a Pastor. I sat down with the principle one time in a rather large meeting and they asked me about it. He wants to be a Pastor and gets in trouble at school for saying the word “God” a lot. Our family is Christian, and so my personal favorite notes are ones with a verse on them, especially for my son. For my kids, they really love getting notes, and respond well to praise, thus the “You are Smart” note. We need to be constantly filling up their ‘love tanks’ in ways that they understand. Do not give them any excuse or opportunity to ever say they don’t feel your love. He left fairly early in the morning and maybe he never appreciated the things I did, but I know that he had no excuse not to know that I loved him. When I was married, sometimes I would tape a note to my husband’s steering wheel in his car. Great parenting is constantly showing your kids you love them, you value them, you respect them.Īnd, it may seem silly to some, but I think that putting a motivating or inspirational note in a child’s lunch box (or even a spouse’s) is such a simple way to show them you care. Get them washed for dinner, bathe them, take them to the park, feed them, provide adequate living space for them.īut great parenting is so much more than that. Parenting is doing a lot of routine, mundane things over and over. It’s a little touch that says you care, you’re thinking of them, like a little gift they get so happy to receive. I love the idea of putting encouraging lunch box notes for kids to find in their lunch boxes or backpacks.Įspecially for kindergarteners going to school for the first time and dealing with separation anxiety from their parents. The Mister Rogers lunch notes set is just one of a whole collection of Mister Rogers-themed items made by a company called Papersalt a division of Seattle-based design and printing company.

#Encouraging lunch box notes for adults

[gxmergurl]

No thoughts, head empty. Only Faith and John being best buddies and doing sibling shit.

These two would get along fine. I refuse everything else. Also spa day because John does this daily (simply a fact) and he invited Faith because she deserves a break.

#I don't make the rules #Mister 'I never had a family that loved me' would take the opportunity to have a loving sister #These two were siblings #No blood relation only connected vibes #far cry 5 #fanart #art #digital drawing #far cry fanart #far cry series #digital art #john seed #painting #faith seed #No faith slander allowed

[tommyspeakycap]

Shelby!Sister getting poisoned whilst at dinner with the whole family?

changed it up a bit; reader is roofied at one of Tommy’s fancy ball type parties and there’s one particular gentleman around to help her out.

Good Team

Tommy had, since you were merely a little girl, endeavoured to introduce you emphatically as (y/n) Shelby, with your surname stated soaked in ferocity and warning. You are a Shelby. You are his little sister. He makes sure people know this. He makes sure they’re aware. He sees it as a pre-warning, the kind that lets them know that you are very very important to him without actually saying those words. He sees it very much as a pre-warning for grievous bodily harm had any trouble befell you at another persons discretion. It was made incredibly clear from the moment you were born that you were so far from off limits to the enemies that it didn’t even need to be spoken.

However, it was a relatively occasional occurrence that this message was not accurately conveyed no matter how clear your elder brother was about the matter.

You were usually so cautious and so careful, but you were in your brothers own ballroom with his own supplied champagne and you had very few worries of such a simple business gathering for Christmas. You were adorning an extortionate dress that Tommy had made for you with a beautiful fur shoulder wrap, cheeks dusted with a champagne blush and a gorgeous smile as you mingle with rich business people and rich couples who were born into money. They were amazing at times to ogle at, coming from such a poor background. It was hard enough to adjust to your new life flaunting pretty dressed and walking around with a purpose and a job that had significant purpose.

But it would be safe to say you weren’t so worried around these people. You should’ve known better.

You keep blinking, squeezing your eyes shut to try and find vision again that wasn’t restricted by blurriness. The heels on your feet didn’t aid you much in the way of keeping your balance as you stumble into a long hall. You don’t remember where you last saw Tommy and you can’t remember where the glass you were holding had gone. You don’t know much, but you know you have to find one of your brothers.

Heavy footsteps behind you send a rush of hazed adrenaline through your veins, forcing your legs to move you faster, your arms scratching off paintings lining the walls as you attempt to use the wall as a stabiliser.

“Someone’s ‘ad a bit much, eh?”

Your eyelids flicker as you try to keep them open against the light that makes you feel like your head is exploding. “No, no I- there’s someone trying to get me!” You hiss in a slurred whisper with arms that flail somewhat aimlessly as you attempt to point out the person behind you. The man with his his on your biceps steadying you leans around to get a good look behind you. “Mhm, there me no one there love.” He says, confused. You can only vaguely make out who the person is that holds you up and it’s someone you know your brother only invited so as to attempt to talk him into taking on more Blinders for distillery protection.

Alfie Solomons wasn’t entirely the most trustworthy person that surrounded your family. Him and Tommy had a bit of a tendency to betray each other, no matter how expected it always was. The London gangster probably wasn’t the best person for you to bump into and definitely not the most reliable, but he was who you had ended up with and although it could have been him that drugged you, it didn’t seem incredibly likely. He told Tommy and Grace when greeting people at the front door; “No need for the fucking niceties eh Tommy? I’m here for the free booze mate yeah?” and walked on through with a pat on your brothers back.

Despite the fact you didn’t have much trust in him, you really holed that he wouldn’t pass you off as being overly drunk and leave you alone. You feel dreadfully unwell. Alfie looks down the hall, then back at you and with a sigh, he slips his strong arm around your waist and pulls you into his side for your stability. “I think you’re right, Shelby.” Alfie mutters under his breath, barely loud enough for even you to hear. “Something‘s just not right.” He turns to you, using his arm that wasn’t wrapped around you to lift up your eyelid. Beyond the terror in your eyes in huge pupils. “You’ve been drugged,” he states, his voice still low. “Better find those brothers of yours.”

That brings you some form of relief, but the terror still remains. It’s a scary situation, to know what you want to do with your limbs and know exactly what you want to say, but to be unable to speak or walk or even hold up your head. Your heart hadn’t stopped racing and you were drenched in sweat. It’s a shock you didn’t recognise you had been drugged before hearing Alfie say it.

His arm is tight around the waistline of your expensive ballgown, keeping you steady against him as he walked as quickly as he could manage while supporting your weight. He only vaguely knew the way around Tommy’s huge country house, but he did know where the man’s office was, and he’d likely have a maid in waiting there who Alfie could send to fetch him once he got you there. As you both rounded the corner into the corridor that would take you to Tommy’s office, there a man dressed like a waiter standing seemingly waiting for you. “Mister Shelby sent me to collect his sister when he heard she was overly inebriated.” The man spoke. Alfie furrowed his eyebrows tightly, but nodded and walked you closer to him. You want to protest, but your mind still won’t coordinate with your body and the most you can do is grumble. “She’s a bit hard to deal with,” Alfie admits, “So a tip you should really know for the future?“ He pauses, moving as though he’s going to pass you over to the arms of the other man. Alfie leans in until he’s only a few inches away and whispers a warning “I fucking hate liars,” before sharply drawing back his head only to but it forward forcefully into the man’s face.

He stumbles back and Alfie takes that opportunity to grab the front of his suit jacket and throw him behind the two of you with a kick to his ribs a few times for good measure. He wraps his arm back around your waist and continues on down the hall as if nothing had ever happened. “Could tell by his-fuck!”

A yelp leaves you as your legs tangled when you attempt to bare your own weight and instead clatter to the floor with a thud. Alfie grunts and you fight to open your heavy eyelids to see that a man had dove out at him from a doorway along the long hall and there were now two of them and two of you, except they were both conscious and had full control of their own bodies, whereas it fell upon Alfie to fight for both of you. The Londoner truly does not know why he has put himself in this situation for anyone, never mind for a Shelby he had only met a handful of times. But every time he had met you, you were incredibly sweet and kind to him. He knows that they’ll stop attacking him if he allows them to take you and do as they please with you, but something in him prevents him from doing that. There’s a part of him that encourages him to spit the blood from his mouth and stand in front of where you lay in and out of consciousness on the fell, ready to fight for you like he had something to lose if he couldn’t protect you. Tommy would never know Alfie was there with you if he walked away now, but something in him wants to be there. Wants to fight for you.

And so fight he does, throwing punch after punch, trying to take on two at once. Alfie managed to take the blonde assailant out of the game by cracking the wall with his blonde head of hair, leaving him out cold and potentially dying on the floor. When he does that though, his moment of glory is short lived before the other appears behind him with an arm tightly around his throat. Alfie squirms and grunts, kicks and scratches attempting to get him off, but the attacker holds on despite the blows. Alfie thinks he may well have to accept his fate.

Then he clocks you again on the floor, except this time your hands and trailing up your leg, hiking up your dress and he is utterly confused at your behaviour, thinking that it must be the drugs acting weird in your system. That is, until your dress reaches your upper thigh and the London gangster feels what he thinks may be butterflies when he spots the holster and gun that had been well hidden by your long ballgown. He would laugh, grin even if he wasn’t being strangled nearly to death. He watched with blurry vision as you try to steady your hands enough to point the gun at the attacker that was too bury trying to hold Alfie Solomons down to notice your movements. Alfie squeezes his eyes shut as you move your finger over the trigger and he hopes to God your heads are steady enough to shoot the right person.

The bang goes off and very suddenly he can breathe again. He notes that’s a good sign. He scrambles away quickly, turning around to press his foot onto the bullet wound in the shoulder of his attacker. “I will come back for you.” He growls in warning, pressing his foot harder to elicit a scream before he nods and turns back to where you stand. He wipes the blood off the bottom of his shoe on the carpet before he steps forward to swoop your gun off the floor to slip it back into your thigh holster, and then he helps you back up. Except this time, he opts to sweep you off your feet and into his arms bridal style.

“Good shot.” He notes. You breath a chuckle with hooded eyes in response, but can’t manage anything else. If you hadn’t been severely drugged, Alfie might’ve kissed you.

He makes it to Tommy’s office with ease, ordering the maid to get your brother immediately. Alfie lays you down on the soft couch in the office, placing you carefully on on your side for safety in case you’re sick. He uses the not blood tinted side of his handkerchief to wire some blood splatter and sweat from your face gently, and offers a gentle smile. “We make a good team, Solomons.” You hum with words slurred and jumped, but he understand what you said nonetheless. “That we do, Shelby.” He rumbles back in response.

The moment is as any moment of yours often is, interrupted by your elder brothers storming in. Immediately, Alfie is ripped from your side by Arthur slamming the him roughly against the wall with a loud clatter and bang. John goes to stand by Arthur’s side, and Tommy takes a knee beside you. The patriarch places his cool hand against your forehead before dipping down to place his ear just above your lips. “She’s breathing.” He concludes, “What the fuck did you do to her?” He sneers through gritted teeth as he takes steps towards Alfie.

“And why the fuck and you covered in blood.” Alfie sighs heavily, rolling his eyes and flaring his nostrils at the proximity of the three Shelby brothers. “Funny story, you see Tommy.” He grumbles discontentedly, “Seems as though someone tried after your sister right under your fucking nose, mate. Drugged her drink, removed her from the crowd. I found her wandering the halls all fuckin’ disoriented yeah. Now I don’t like a man who targets a woman, much less has to fuckin’ drug her to achieve it.” Alfie shrugs. Tommy narrows his eyes, but something in him believes what the Camden Town Gangster is saying. Alfie doesn’t have much in the way of necessity for taking you and it wouldn’t make sense for him to have the opportunity to but instead to bring you here. Right to them. “Doesn’t explain the fucking blood.” Arthur hisses, slamming his back against the wall again.

Alfie holds up his hands. “You’re little sister isn’t such a damsel as you make her out to be, Thomas. She has a fantastic shot. Some cunts-“ Alfie’s words drop with pure venom as the reminder of the man nearly strangling him to death reenters his mind, “Came after her. On that note, you’ll need a carpet cleaner and some body bags just along that hall. Don’t let the missus see that mess.”

Tommy paused for a moment, his eyes not leaving Alfie’s even when he speaks. “John, check that corridor.” He orders, making his younger brother grunt in annoyance but do as told nonetheless. “Arthur,” He grumbles, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Take our sister upstairs and get Polly.” Arthur is hesitant. Tommy might believe the words that Alfie speaks, but Arthur despises him and the only thing he hates more than Alfie is the thought of Alfie’s hands on you without any of them being there to help you, protect you. He knows that he and a Tommy are asking themselves the same question. How could something like this happen to you right beneath their noses. How had someone managed to get to when they were so close, literally right in the same room in an event organised by them. Arthur couldn’t answer the question, but could probably have killed Alfie in his rage at that moment. “Arthur,” Tommy repeats more firmly, “Go.”

This time, he listens. But that’s not without a warning glare at Alfie, who simply offers a smirk in response. “And you,” Tommy says finally, turning his attention to Alfie, “Fuck off.”

Alfie chuckles, but begins to walk past Tommy to leave the office when the smaller man grabs his arm in a vice like grip that makes the tips of his fingers tingle with the strength of it. Alfie feigns the urge to fight back in reaction to the pain. Tommy leans in close to his ear with a low snarl, “You don’t just help people. I don’t care what the reason was eh, but don’t you ever go near my sister again.”

Then he lets go and Alfie simply shakes off his arm and walks away. He hasn’t listened to Tommy Shelby any time in the past, and it appears as though today will be no different.

#alfie solomons x shelby!reader #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons prompt #tommy shelby x sister!reader #shelby reader #shelby!reader #peaky blinders blurb

[dismal-alien-darling]

Little Flower

Alcina Dimitrescu x female reader

You and Lady Dimitrescu’s vampire baby

Bela, Cassandra and Daniela Dimitrescu

b/g= baby’s gender

b/n= baby’s name

Summary: New baby fluff, that’s it.

Warnings/tags: new vampire baby, the girls are besides themselves, you and Alcina are proud mamas, fluffy fluff 

A/n: Requested by @coolninjavoid, they wanted new baby fluff continuing from my fic “Birth and Rebirth,” enjoy! 

“Good morning floarea mea,” you cooed picking up b/n from their crib. “Did you sleep well my little love?” B/n let out a laugh looking up at b/g mother. “You did!?” you sang peppering b/n’s face with kisses making b/g giggle.

“How is our floare mică this morning?” Alcina’s voice came into the nursery. You sat down in the rocking chair a soft fire already crackling undoing a few buttons on your shirt as b/n latched on for breakfast.

“B/g’s perfect as usual,” you sighed looking up at Alcina as she placed a soft kiss on your lips. Alcina knelt down next to you resting her head on your shoulder so she could look at b/n. At seeing her other mother, b/n’s eyes sparkled in delight. Alcina smiled broadly ever so gently stroking b/n’s head so she didn’t disturb b/g breakfast. 

“Hungry aren’t you draga mea,” Alcina chuckled, “you take after your sisters.” You and Alcina both laughed. The two you watched as b/n had her fill, letting go once b/g was full.

“You need to eat as well lubirea mea,” Alcina said to you taking b/n in her arms. Compared to Lady Dimitrescu b/n was even tinier than b/g already was in the arms of her giantess mother.

“Yes yes my lover I have every intention,” you said rising from the rocking chair stretching.

“How is our sibling this morning!?” Bela’s voice came crashing into the nursery her sisters fast behind her.

“SHUSH!” Alcina scolded, “B/n just ate and b/g can’t have so much commotion in b/g poor ears.” Alcina finished covering b/n’s ears.

“That’s my bad mother,” Bela said now whispering.

“See mother, this is why I should watch over her,” Cassandra said even quieter.

“You are Bela are always tied for whose the loudest, I’m quiet as mouse,” Daniela said in a barely audible whisper.

“No you aren’t” Cassandra and Bela didn’t say, but mouthed. This fracus between the girls had been going on since the moment b/n was born. The girls were in constant competition to see who was the “better older sister.” You and Alcina had mixed feelings about this; on one hand your hearts swelled with such pride you two thought you might burst when the girls would care for their youngest sibling, on the other hand it would grate on your nerves having to constantly break them from fighting not wanting b/n to hear stressed voices so early in b/g life. You and Alcina were both sure the girls had held b/n more than you two had since b/g was born.

“If you three don’t knock it off right now no one is getting to hold, play or feed b/n at all today,” you growled not having the energy to deal with the girls’ antics today. The girls immediately softened their faces and nodded so hard you and Alcina were surprised their heads didn’t pop off their bodies. You didn’t notice but Lady Dimitrescu grinned, pleased with your new motherly sternness that was starting to rival hers at times.

“I’m sure breakfast is ready now let’s go and eat,” Alcina said handing b/n back to you as you all made your way to the breakfast nook. Alcina held b/n as you ate heartily because breastfeeding a vampire baby was no joke. Just as you finished eating b/n started crying.

“What’s wrong my love!?” Alcina said voice fraught with concern. You laughed to yourself rolling your eyes. Ever since b/n was born if b/g made the slightest cry Alcina would go into fight mode. You found this very sweet and amusing.

“Again my little dearest? B/g is just hungry again drag mea calm down,” you said as Alcina handed you b/n. You got up to head to the sitting room to feed b/g.

After b/n had their fill again the girls poked their heads in the sitting room. “Come in my sweets,” you motioned for them to come in their mother following behind coming to where you sat.

“Can we play with b/g now?” Cassandra asked.

“In a minute b/g needs to digest,” you replied. “Here,” you said handing b/n to Cassandra along with a small towel. When you handed b/n over Alcina picked you up and sat down placing you on her lap. Cassandra knew what to do and before long b/n let out a cute little burp.

“Ha-ha nice,” Bela laughed burping herself. Daniela and Cassandra followed suit making b/n screech with laughter.

“Ugh girls-“Alcina started but stopped when b/n kept laughing so she couldn’t bring herself to chastise her daughters. Bela jumped up dragging b/n’s huge toy chest over to the where her sisters sat.

“Look it’s mister lycan,” Bela chirped bouncing the stuffed animal around making b/n squeal. 

*************

“Peek-a-boo!” Daniela sang as Bela held b/n.

“Where’s Daniela?” Bela asked b/n.

“Peek-a-boo!” Cassandra sang.

“Where’a Cassandra?” Bela asked b/n. You and Alcina sat with your tea as you watched your girls play together. You had been melted into Alcina’s lap while the girls entertained their youngest sibling. B/n let out a yawn.

“Did your sisters tire you out my little darling?” You cooed walking over taking b/n from Bela. “Nap time for you.” You walked upstairs to the nursery, Alcina keeping stride next to you. You placed b/n in the crib and b/g let out another yawn.

“What a big yawn cel mic,” whispered Alcina as the two of you caressed your baby’s face until b/n was fast asleep.

**************

B/n woke up screaming b/g head off. You were in the room within seconds. “Is someone hungry again my lupul mic?” you said settling in. You heard Alcina’s footsteps dashing down the hall.

“What’s wrong with b/n?!” She said looking very worried.

“Alcina, lubirea mea, b/g is just hungry...again. No emergency here,” you laughed as Alcina’s worry left her face. She made her way over to you and b/n watching you feed your child once again. 

“My beautiful doves, my sweet darlings,” Alcina fawned kissing you and b/n. You leaned up capturing her lips again in a gentle kiss as b/n suckled on your chest. “I love you, I love you both, so much, my babies,” Alcina continued hugging your upper body careful not to disturb b/n. 

“And we love you Alcina,” you said tears welling in your eyes. A gentle knocking on the nursery door caught your attention. “Come in,” you sniffled wiping your eyes. 

“My ladies, it’s a lovely day outside, would you and your daughters and your little one like to take lunch on the veranda?” your head maid asked. 

“Yes that sounds lovely thank you,” you answered as the maid nodded turning away. 

The Dimitrescu family sat outside enjoying a delicious lunch as Daniela held b/n showing b/g the different birds flitting around. 

“And that one there is a a gold finch,” Daniela said excitedly pointing at a nearby bird, “can you see it’s beautiful yellow and black feathers b/n? It’s such a pretty bird just like you!” 

After lunch, you mentioned something about b/n needing a bath and the girls jumped on the opportunity.   

“Can we please give b/n a bath y/n please?” Bela begged. “We’ll be so so careful and we won’t fight or bicker!” It’s not like you didn’t trust the girls completely it’s just they had never bathed an infant before. 

“Oh-um-well,” you struggled as you looked at b/n and back at the three sets of eyes that were silently begging. 

“I think they can manage y/n. They have been on their best behavior today after all and besides, it’s not like b/n can drown,” Alcina reassured looking down at you. 

“You make an excellent point Alci. All right girls you may give b/g a bath,” you said handing over b/n. The girls could hardly hold in their pure excitement as they whisked their baby sibling into their bathroom. 

“Come sit with me lubirea mea, they’ll be fine,” Alcina said patting her lap. You looked after the girls, sighing as you curled up in your lady’s lap. The moment your head hit Alcina’s chest you were out like a light. 

“Let’s show your mothers how squeaky clean you are you little rascal,” you awoke hearing Bela’s voice. You rubbed your eyes seeing b/n in Bela’s arms, fresh and clean and in a new outfit. 

“Hello floarea mea, look at you!” you smiled taking b/n. “Girls! B/g looks marvelous, thank you, well done!” you praised making the girls smile so widely their faces hurt.   

“Very well done my doves, you take such astounding care of b/n!” Alcina added hugging her girls tightly. You all spent some down time together in the sitting room until dinner was served, once again on the veranda. You held your child in your arms as you ate, the setting sun casting lovely colors along the castle. 

After dinner, you and Lady Dimitrescu headed up to the nursery to put b/n down for bed time. You sat in your rocking chair feeding b/n one last time before b/g inevitably decided to wake up in a few hours with demanding cries for more. While you fed b/g, Alcina busied herself making b/n’s crib as comfortable as it could be, turning the dial on b/g music box. The gentle tune danced in the air as you finished feeding b/n. Bela, Cassandra and Daniela silently glided into the nursery kissing b/n in your arms. 

“Goodnight love,” Bela cooed. 

“Goodnight little bird,” Daniela whispered. 

“Goodnight darling,” Cassandra cooed. After the girls had left, you and Alcina laid b/n down giving b/g kisses of your own. 

“Goodnight my beautiful one,” Alcina whispered tracing a finger along the side of b/g cheek. 

“Goodnight my perfect angel,” you whispered placing b/n’s favorite plushie next to b/g. You and Alcina looked at each with pure, undying love for each other, your girls and your baby...your little flowers. 

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #lady dimitrescu x fem reader #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #fluff #resident evil 8 #fanfiction

[soulmate-game]

Harley's Plea for Help ch. 6

Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6-- you are here

Yet another night of barely any sleep, but this time Marinette didn’t have the coffee-angel Red Robin at her rescue. No, instead she had to go completely uncaffeinated until she and her class got to Wayne Enterprises. Madame Mendelieve could only sigh as she watched Marinette scamper off to the café as soon as they made it past the initial security of the building. A couple of her classmates chuckled or snorted at her familiar behavior.

It was the same barista at the register as before, but this time Marinette felt too tired to properly order or be adventurous in looking for new flavors.

“I feel like death. I don’t care if it tastes like pure bean oil today. Flavors will take away from the amount of coffee you can shove in one cup, right?”

The poor barista blinked, eyeing the deep bags forming under the poor girl’s eyes. She sighed. “I had hope yesterday that you were just a normal caffeine addict. Now I see we actually have a second Mister Drake,” she said it as if she was mourning at Marinette’s grave before poking a few buttons on her touchscreen order station and turning her head. “One Insomniac CEO, but not for the boss!” She called out. The barista making the drinks paused for a second with wide eyes.

“We have another one?!” He asked, shocked. “Piece of advice?” He turned to Marinette. “Get some sleep.”

“Sleep is for the dead,” Marinette deadpanned back. “I got stuff I need to do today.”

The guy just shook his head and sighed, making the drink as Marinette paid and left a good tip. The drink came out fairly quickly, and everyone behind the counter stopped for a moment to stare as she gulped down the hot drink with no concern for her tongue or throat. A satisfied sound left her as she finally pulled away from the cup.

“This is really good!” She complimented, turning to the Baristas with a still-tired smile. It would take a minute or two for the coffee to have full effect, but she already felt better. “A little too bitter for my usual tastes, but perfect for days like today. Thanks!” She waved at them before turning around and seeing that her class was already gone again. Before she could fully process that though, a hand slapped down onto her head and ruffled her hair.

Surprised (really, not a lot of people could sneak up on her anymore. Just how tired was she?) she let out a high pitched squeal.

“You’re a good kid,” the soft, slightly scratchy voice that said that made Marinette’s shoulders drop and eyes widen. Tilting her head back she was greeted with the widely-grinning face of Jason Todd. He was once again in the uniform of a security guard.

“Wha— Uh,” Marinette couldn’t quite find the right words right away. She was too stunned. Jason just chuckled, jerking his head to indicate the same door her class had gone through the day before and leading the way over there. Marinette scrambled to catch up.

Once they were far away enough from prying eyes and ears, Marinette cleared her throat.

“Um,” she started. “Did… I mean, do you..?”

“Yeah, our mutual friends had a chat with me last night,” he confirmed casually. He sent her a meaningful look even though his grin never left his face. “Like I said; you’re a good kid. And I’m not goin’ anywhere. You’re not responsible for the things your parents have done, you know.”

The girl at his side hummed noncommittally, not fully convinced but also not wanting to argue.

“You’re not,” he repeated firmly, stopping in the middle of the side-hallway. They could see her class at the other end getting checked in, but didn’t make a move to join them yet. “I mean it. The stuff that happened to me, none of that was you. Hell, you were a little kid back then. And there’s nothing you could have done to stop it, either. I’m not gonna hold anything against you just because you’re his child. You didn’t ask to be,” he shrugged. “Besides, I get it. Biological relation doesn’t equal family. Trust me,” his grin was gone and a tired one replaced it. “I know that better than most people.”

The pigtailed girl could only gulp, taking a deep breath as she forced down the tears that wanted to bubble up. She had had this conversation with Adrien a few times, but even then she had been convinced that he just didn’t understand. He was just being nice. But this— Jason’s words were more valuable than gold to her. He had no reason to be nice, so it had to be at least partially sincere.

“Thanks,” she whispered once she was positive she wasn’t going to break. She lifted her cup up and took a long sip of her coffee. The slight burn against her tongue helped ground her. “That means more than you know.”

Jason chuckled. “Nah. The fact that you stood up for me to the Bat,” his grin returned to his face full blast, making dimples appear on his cheeks. “Now that, you have no idea how much that means to me. You must have some serious guts to lecture that guy, too. Is it too late to adopt you for myself?”

That tore a quick laugh out of her, making her classmate’s head whip over to the opposite end of the hallway where she and Jason were. She quickly quieted herself, but her eyes danced with amusement as she looked up at Jason. “You’re too young to be my parent anyway, but I wouldn’t say no to a brother,” she joked. Jason’s eyes sparkled.

“Good, exactly what I was aiming for!” He slipped a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. “That’s my number. Call me if you ever need anything, got it?” He turned to resume leading her back to her class and she quickly slipped the paper into her pocket before anyone saw and got the wrong idea. “And I mean anything.”

Marinette just smiled and nodded. By then, they were close enough for Alya to smirk and ask; “What took ya so long, girl?”

“Oh,” Marinette shuffled a little on her feet before an observation gave her a last minute idea and she straightened up with a wide smile. “We just got distracted talking about motorcycles!”

Jason’s eyebrows raised for a quick second before he settled his expression again and played along. He had figured that not many people knew about her biological family. That part made sense. But she had been a total mess just the day before when she had tried to lie about Paris’ little villain problem in front of Bruce. How was she able to actually come up with a good lie this time around, when she had been just as much put on the spot? He wondered to himself about what was different about this situation to allow her to lie more easily. Maybe Bruce not being there was part of it— she seemed easily flustered by famous people.

Think of the devil, because no sooner had that thought finished developing in Jason’s mind before Bruce Wayne walked into the hallway with a paparazzi-ready smile. Jason rolled his eyes and sunk to the back of the group silently, sinking back into his job and keeping an eye on their surroundings. He listened as Alya laughed softly and elbowed Marinette even as the group turned their attention to Bruce.

“You and your bikes,” Alya teased. “If someone knew enough about motorcycles, I bet you’d marry them on the spot.”

“Nah,” Marinette whispered back. “If they gave me a really nice one though? That’s marriage potential for sure.”

The two girls laughed for a second before focusing back on the tour. Adrien wasted no time making his way to Marinette’s side, silent questions in his eyes. Jason watched with interest as the two seemed to silently communicate with one another. It was obvious that Adrien was calling her lie, and Marinette was essentially silently telling him that she would explain later. It was so seamless and subtle that if Jason hadn’t been extremely familiar with that kind of communication already, he wouldn’t have noticed it. Once again his eyebrows rose a tick on his forehead, and he made a mental note of the interaction. That kind of silent conversation wasn’t an easy thing to do with people. It was most commonly seen in married or otherwise long-term couples, childhood friends, family, or hero partners. The childhood friends and family sections were already ruled out from their background check on her and Harley herself had mentioned that even though Marinette had once crushed on Adrien, she had unofficially adopted the boy as her brother since then. Though, their time as close friends was only documented as having lasted about a year. That wasn’t quite enough time for that sort of effortless silent communication to be possible.

Of course, Jason had his suspicions already. But there was no rush, either. The Clown was on the move and more important to focus on for now. He could focus on the puzzle that was Marinette and Adrien later.

Bruce took over the tour as he had the day before, and the class was instantly riveted once again. If the fact that they were being led through the building by the very man who owned it wasn’t awesome enough to get everyone’s full attention, the man’s personality was. He came off a little carefree and very kind, but there was an obvious undercurrent of just how much he loved his company that showed that he did take it and his job seriously. Just, not too seriously either. And he interjected everywhere he could with personal stories and anecdotes and little bits of his family history that the normal tour guides might not have known. It was not long after he announced that he was going to take them to a lower lab set aside specifically for their class’ tour, so that they could do their first interactive activity, that jason found the opportunity to sidle up next to Marinette on the opposite side from where Adrien walked alongside her.

“So,” he said casually. “How’d you know I ride a motorcycle?” he smirked to show he wasn’t upset as he looked down at her curiously. Marinette blinked, taking her attention away from Bruce to look over at Jason. Once his words registered, she smiled widely and pointed to one of his pockets. The corners of his bike gloves flopped over the edge.

“I noticed those. I figured you’d have a negative reaction that might give us away if my lie was too off the mark, and I do have a habit of saying stupid things if I don’t have a clue or something to play off of. I also had to make it believable for the class, and they all know that my Nonna has played a huge part in my love for motorcycles. I plan on getting a license to drive one when I turn sixteen later this year,” she told him softly. “I tend to gush whenever I see a cool bike, so I knew they wouldn’t question it.”

Jason huffed a little bit of laughter under his breath. It was like the trope of a character looking at random items in the room to come up with a fake name, but somehow it had actually worked for her. She was quick-witted and clever, he had to admit. And observant.

“I was running late, so I must have left them in my pocket when I was changing,” he admitted, unbothered. “Ah, here we are,” he nodded to return the two teen’s (he had noticed Adrien paying close attention as he and Marinette had their conversation) attention back to the tour. Bruce opened the door for the class with a flourish, gesturing for everyone to go in.

“Since these first few days are going to be tours and lessons about working in general, your first activity of your trip is to solve various problems we’ve given you based on real situations that WE employees have been in before. Split up into groups, and choose a table. Each table has a different problem covering a different industry. Reporting, Science— specifically research and development, business management, and entertainment…”

—*—*—*—*—*

“It’s straight,” Adrien assured her, trying to keep himself from laughing as Marinette straightened his tie for the millionth time. “I promise. And you look fantastic.”

Marinette stepped back, nodding at Adrien’s appearance in approval. “I know. We both look great, but…” she fidgeted and then stepped forward to go right back to over-straightening his tie. Adrien snorted, grabbing her hands before she could touch the poor thing again and lowering her arms to her sides.

“Calm down. Like you said, we both look great. You don’t have a single hair out of place, the outfits you made us look amazing, and my tie is at a perfect ninety degree angle to my collar. Take the model’s word for it,” he teased with a lopsided grin. “We look ready for the front cover of a magazine. So just take a deep breath, because we should get down to the lobby soon to wait for the ride he’s sending for us.”

“Right,” Marinette nodded. She followed his advice and took a deep breath. Once she was suitably calmed, she opened her eyes and nodded at him. Adrien smiled and held out his arm, making Marinette snort as she took hold of it gently and let him lead her to the elevator.

Bruce had not specified whether the dinner was going to be casual or formal, but with the fact that his kids were going to be present and it was at his own house, Marinette had a feeling it was going to be more of a casual thing than if they had went out to a fancy restaurant with a black tie dress code. At the same time, this was the Wayne manor they were talking about. She didn’t want to be underdressed, either. Not to mention that it was her design skills that had played a huge part in her winning the contest in the first place, so she felt like she had to show her work again to prove that they had chosen the right person.

A playful wolf whistle greeted the two of them when they got down to the lobby. Alya was, to no one’s surprise, the perpetrator. She stood in the lobby with Alix, Nino, and Max, who all had known about the dinner and agreed to be there to see the two of them off and put Marinette’s worries to rest. The four of them jogged over, Alix smiling and adding her own soft whistle of appreciation.

“You guys look great,” the short skater assured them, taking the time to skate slow circles around them to make sure that nothing was wrong with their outfits. “I think you’ve outdone yourself, Mari! Very cool.”

Alya nodded eagerly, bouncing in place with a wide, beaming smile on her face. “Ah! The both of you look ready to kick ass and woo rich people!” she added. Max pushed his glasses up on his nose with a small grin.

“There is a ninety-five percent chance of your work impressing all of the Waynes,” he said in his own version of encouragement.

“You guys got this!” Nino shot them a thumbs up. “They beat me to all the stuff I wanted to say.”

Marinette beamed, laughing along with her friends as she allowed herself to relax a little. Adrien’s outfit was of her own making, a subtle way for him to rebel since his father had sent him with his own Gabriel brand suit should an appropriate opportunity to wear it come up. Adrien had no plans of ever putting his father’s suit on his body. In an effort to spice up formal men’s wear a bit without making the whole thing white and silver like Gabriel wanted, Marinette had made him a classic silk shirt in black, with short sleeves that fell at that perfect halfway point between his elbow and shoulder. The sleeves had thick cuffs in a dark forest green, with decorative straight stitches on the seams in a bright magenta pink thread. On top of that was a corset-style sleeveless vest with a deep V. The majority of the vest was the same black as the shirt, but with dark green hand-stitched swirls that were just barely bright enough to be contrasted against the black. It created a very subtle pattern that would be hard to see in the wrong lighting, but would make it look that much more expensive and elaborate in the right lighting. The lapel of the vest was in the same dark forest green as the cuffs of his shirt, with a few decorative swirls embroidered on the very corners. The piping of the corset-vest made three curved lines on either side of his waist, curling from mid-rib cage to his waist. It gave him a slightly more feminine twist to his outfit, making his waist look smaller even though it wasn’t actually pulled very tight on him— it was mostly the illusion made by the piping rather than the actual tightness of the garment. The two outside piping lines were done in a magenta pink, while the middle piping line was once again in dark forest green. Unlike most corset-style vests, this one had no buttons or zipper on the front at all. Instead, it was closed only by corset lacing in the back, the laces done in such a dark shade of green that it was almost black, while the eyelets that the laces were threaded through were that same magenta pink as the piping and decorative stitches elsewhere on the outfit. The tie that Marinette had spent so long making sure was straight was almost entirely soft lace, but it was layered in such a way with layers of sheer green and pink lace that it looked like it was a constant swirl of the two colors. If someone got close enough to see the pattern of the lace tie, they would notice that it was a pattern of cats chasing a butterfly.

Underneath the artistic top of the outfit were black dress pants, once again with thick forest-green cuffs on the bottoms. But instead of the decorative stitching, the pant legs flared a bit at the ankles for just a little extra drama. Magenta-pink Oxfords peeked out of the wide cuffs. The green detailing made Adrien’s eyes pop, while the pink accents gave his boyish charm a little more of a feminine touch that almost seemed to highlight his naturally sensitive and charming nature.

In contrast, Marinette wore a sleeveless pink pantsuit. It was the same shade as the pink accents in Adrien’s outfit, and had a built-in corset as well that went only around her natural waist. The corset boning on Marinette was a solid black, while the rest was just the same base pink as the majority of the suit. The black of the boning seemed to flow downwards, changing from boning into thick hand-embroidery in thread of the exact same black. The embroidery flowed down the sides of both legs, in the shape of tree branches and apple blossoms. Pale green accents in the form of swirls at her high neckline and a pale green lace capelet that was the only thing covering her shoulders helped tie her outfit in with Adrien’s. She also wore pale green low kitten heels and her black hair up in a braided bun. With how her pant legs were form-hugging until they flared out slightly at the heel, and the lack of sleeves exposed her toned arms and shoulders and emphasized her strength there without making her look unbalanced or too masculine for the rest of the outfit’s style, she looked ready to rock the business world. Her bright blue eyes clashed with the green details of the outfit just enough to bring attention to them, assuring that people who met her eyes would not be able to easily look away.

The quick snap of a phone’s flash went off, drawing everyone’s attention to Madame Bustier. She was beaming at all of them, and had just taken a picture of her two students all dressed up. She waved her phone happily. “I’m sending this picture to the both of you. I’m so proud of you guys!” she gushed.

Marinette and Adrien both blushed deep red, shifting in their spots. They were confident in their looks, and Adrien was just as proud of his pseudo-sister, but neither of them was very good at handling so much positive attention aimed only at them. Especially not from their extremely sincere friends and teacher.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng?” An older gentleman with a British accent turned everyone’s attention to him. The first thing Marinette thought was that he had kind eyes. He also had soft wisps of white hair on his head, carefully trimmed and slicked back. Of course, Marinette and Adrien also couldn’t miss the high quality and perfect press of his carefully maintained suit. Once he had shown all the proper credentials to Madame Bustier, he introduced himself to the two well-dressed teens with a shallow bow. “I am Alfred Pennyworth, the butler for Wayne Manor. I am to escort the both of you there for supper tonight.”

“Oh! Thank you so much, Monsieur Pennyworth,” Marinette said, walking up and shaking his hand. Adrien was right by her side the whole time, matching her smile watt for watt and shaking Alfred’s hand with just as much enthusiasm.

“Yeah, thank you for having us over. I know it was technically Bruce who invited Marinette, but you’re probably the one that has to do all the work. So, thank you. We really appreciate it,” he told the man sincerely. Alfred’s answering smile was soft, almost fond.

“Yes, I admit I am in charge of most of the work for tonight. But you shouldn’t worry, it’s no different from any other day at the manor,” he said lightheartedly, a little bit of good natured snark shining through his otherwise proper behavior— “Every last one of the Waynes would die in less than a week without me to keep everything in order,” he joked. “Allow me to lead you to the car.”

Marinette and Adrien followed behind Alfred. She didn’t know if it was the calming aura he put off, or if it was the gentle way his eyes sparkled that made her want to look after him. But whatever it was, she found herself wanting to protect this kind old man already. Which is why her eyebrows slightly pinched together. Before climbing inside the luxurious town car he had brought for them, she couldn’t help but turn to Alfred and ask;

“I hope you aren’t overworked. I don’t want to overstep, Monsieur, but isn’t the Wayne family rather large for one person to look after on their own?”

Alfred laughed gently at that, his eyes once again softening. “Do not worry about me, Miss Dupain-Cheng. They are family to me. And though, yes, you are correct in assuming they are a handful, they are also wonderful people. They help me where they can, but taking care of themselves is not their forte. Being able to do that for them is my greatest joy.”

The wrinkles in Marinette’s brow smoothed out and she smiled. “That’s so sweet. You’re making me want to meet them all even more.”

Something about that twinkle in Alfred’s eye made her feel like he was laughing at some joke she didn’t hear. “I’m sure all of you will get along swimmingly.”

—*—*—*—*—*

“I FOUND HER FIRST!”

Alfred had barely opened the manor’s doors to let Marinette and Adrien inside before the chaos started. Or rather, before they were let in on it— it seemed as if the chaos had already been going on for a while.

Jason skidded across the floor in a mad dash, having to grasp the doorframe he was running out of so that he could turn the corner sharply and veer towards them.

“Tell them, Marinette! I found you first, you’re my sister now, don’t fall for any of their Jedi mind tricks!”

Marinette just blinked, a little caught off guard. It hadn’t exactly sunk into her head until right that moment that ‘Wayne Family dinner’ would include Jason. Her mind was still catching up to the fact that she was seeing him out of his security guard uniform for the first time. He wasn’t dressed up at all, in a well-loved brown leather jacket over a white shirt and dark wash jeans. He still had his motorcycle gloves on. Marinette looked down at first herself, then Adrien.

“Are we overdressed?” She asked with a grimace. Jason huffed.

“Of course not, you guys look amazing! But seriously, tell them that I claimed you as my sister first and none of them are half as cool as me.”

Marinette and Adrien traded glances before laughing together.

“If we’re being technical here,” Adrien drawled mischievously as he straightened out his vest. “I met Marinette first, and she adopted me as her brother long before we met any of you,” he pointed out with a sharp grin.

“Ha!” a younger man laughed pointedly, following after Jason. The newcomer was dressed more formally, in a dress shirt under a very luxurious looking burgundy designer sweater. Under that, he wore black perfectly-pressed slacks and nondescript oxfords. His collar showed signs of housing a tie earlier, but he had clearly taken it off sometime earlier. His hair hung slightly long, framing his face with two long locks while the back of his hair slightly stuck up in all directions in natural tufted curls. Like Jason, his hair was jet black and he had bright blue eyes. He was also about half Jason’s size, much shorter and leaner than his adoptive brother. “He’s got you there, idiot,” he snarked smugly at Jason before turning to the two guests. “Miss Dupain-Cheng, Mister Agreste. I’m Tim Drake-Wayne, it’s nice to finally meet both of you,” he introduced himself as he walked over to shake their hands. “And your outfits are amazing! Did you make them, Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

“Marinette,” she corrected with a lopsided grin. “My last name is a mouthful, and I prefer to just go by Marinette anyway. And yes, I made both of these outfits before we left Paris,” she admitted, trying her best to seem professional. She had already ruined her chances of that with Bruce and Jason, but this time she was prepared!

“They are just as impressive as the rest of your work that I’ve seen. And call me Tim, it’s only fair,” and then he smiled.

Damn his boyish grin. He wasn’t someone Marinette had a crush on— he wasn’t her type— but damn he was unfairly charismatic and charming. His smile temporarily short circuited her brain. That was exactly the kind of boyish smile that had started her crush on Adrien, and that she was unfairly weak for. Now she felt a deep-seated urge to protect this boy and his smile or so help her, someone would be sent to the ER if he was hurt and it wasn’t gonna be her. And she didn’t try to dissuade herself from that strong protective urge, her mother had already assured her that all the Waynes were trustworthy and that Tim in particular shared a lot of her bad habits. She could allow this little bit of vulnerability. Hopefully.

“... I’ve only known you for two minutes, but if anything happened to you I would kill everyone in this room and then myself,” she breathed. Adrien elbowed her hard, making her yelp.

“You said that out loud Mari,” he deadpanned. A deep flush immediately came over her face, and she covered her mouth with both hands.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry— but you— just forget I said anything. Please!”

Tim was visibly shocked, his eyes wide and mouth agape. Jason snorted, overcoming his own brief moment of shock pretty easily.

“Careful there,” Jason chided good-heartedly. His gaze met Marinette’s with a slight weight in it though. “You barely know the guy. He’ll annoy you out of your mind soon enough.”

Marinette caught the hint, wincing and changing the subject. Jason could see that she had done exactly as her mother had warned— she had gotten attached to Tim almost immediately. And while he wanted to believe Marinette when she said that the same wouldn’t happen with Joker, that she was not going to repeat her mother’s mistakes…

He couldn’t help but worry. Joker was a slippery bastard, and good at getting past people’s defenses.

Tim eventually led them all to the dining room, where several people were already sat waiting for them.

“We decided it would be best if we didn’t all swarm you at the door,” Tim explained, grinning at her kindly. “Take a seat wherever you want, Alfred is probably going to be done with dinner soon.”

Marinette and Adrien both nodded, going to sit by each other’s side. Adrien put his hand on her knee when they sat down, and traded a meaningful look with her.

“Calm down,” he whispered. “We’re not in Paris. And if you slip, I’ll catch you. Promise.”

Marinette’s shoulders relaxed a little. Yeah, she could trust Adrien to make sure she didn’t slip up too much. Get too careless. He’d watch her back like she did for him. She’d be okay. They’d both be okay.

“Thanks, Adrien. I needed that.”

—*—*—*—*—*

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[yandere--stuck]

The god of sleep has no dreams of his own. When Hypnos sleeps, it grants him the opportunity of visiting those of others, drifting along as on a gentle river. It’s comforting. Shards and glimpses of lives that aren’t his own, of people and places that won’t ever mean the same to him, the visions indirectly threaded by his fingers. There are far too many dreams for him to make, which is why most aren’t. He brings them to sleep, and their bodies do most of the work.

Regardless, it is his domain. Every mortal needs to sleep, whether they like it or not, which makes him an inevitable part of their life. A third of every human’s day rests in his hands. As payment, all he wants to do is observe, to be in their company. (Hypnos likes humans. They don’t notice him in sleep, or worship him in their days, but he doesn’t mind. It’s easier to handle being ignored when it’s not their choice, when it’s impossible for them to notice him, rather than his mom’s cold eyes passing through him like he’s a sliver of mist.

At least when he’s among the dreams of the living, he’s less alone. There’s no judgement, but no praise either.) With how many mortals and dreams there are to go around, it’s rare for him to visit more than once. Though it’s much rarer for anyone to take note of him. Most people aren’t aware they’re dreaming while doing so, being swept along by their dreams instead of having control, but you’re not one of those. You’re blessed with lucidity, morphing bits and pieces of the experience as you go. Most importantly...

You see him. You laugh. “Well, I didn’t think I was lonely enough to make up some guy to keep me company… Guess you learn something new every day!”

In one motion, you pinch his chin between your fingers and pull his face towards yours. He lets out a surprised noise, at the fact you can touch him in the first place, and the movement itself. And it’s a high and squeaky sound, one that makes him want to curl up in his blanket and slip from this dream to the next. You make no comment on it, only smiling wider.

“Ooooh, your eyes are golden! So pretty… Glad my subconsciousness has good taste, at least.” You add the last part to yourself, laughing again.

You don’t think he’s real, just some made up character of your dream. It’s no surprise you aren’t aware that you can’t dream about someone you’ve never seen before. For now, he’s glad to have you believe that. It’d be more humiliating if you knew a god was making such a fool out of himself, heat rising to his face. His tongue is limp in his mouth. When was the last time someone called him pretty? Had anyone ever called him that, and touched him so carelessly? You save him from the burden of speaking up first.

“What’s your name? Do you have one?”

He hesitates. If you knew who he was, you wouldn’t treat him the same anymore. “I don’t! But, um-!“

Hypnos knows and accepts what others think of him, knows that he’s no good at his job or much else, but if there’s one thing he would excel in, it would be here. He straightens his back a bit from its usual slouch, the tips of his feet grazing the ground as he floats. “I’m here to make sure you’re going to have a grand old time, you know? I know aaaall about having fun in dreams! Why, you could call me an expert! At your service.”

He does this stupid little bow, and immediately regrets it. You laugh, but not at him, and people don’t usually find him this entertaining, he thinks, and if you keep this up, it will become one of his favourite sounds.

“Alright, mister dream expert,” You say with a grin. “What did you have in mind?”

He helps you float like he does, and assists you at conjuring up whatever idea pops into your brain. Hypnos expected you , but that’s not all you do. You try to ask him questions about himself, even if you supposedly don’t think he’s real, and you actually listen. And when you tell him about yourself in return, he does the same. It’s fun, he’s having a good time, and he’s disappointed when he’s jolted awake because of someone walking too close past him. He’ll have to apologise for suddenly disappearing next time. (Next time? Does he want there to be a next time?)

Hypnos makes a habit out of visiting you. You’re not always aware you’re asleep, sometimes your dreams are the same as any other human’s. He savours those days too, at the insights into your life it offers him. However, it’s most enjoyable when you look at him with bright eyes and talk to him, and laugh at things he says and joke around at this side. There’s a warm tightness in his chest around you, he’s happy, he is, but also impossibly nervous to mess up and have your smile turn into a sneer. It’s surprising you even still want to be around him, if past experience is anything to go by, he isn’t any good at not annoying people. But you’re different. You haven’t insulted him at any point, either! You must really be some blessing.

Hypnos thinks he likes you. A lot. He’s never thought of it before, whether this is allowed or not. Never considered the possibility of forming a close bond through dreams. Hypnos decides that it is, and who would he even ask, isn’t he the deity of sleep? He’ll make his own rules, number one being that it’s totally a-okay to have dream friends! That you visit and think about all the time and spend all your time thinking up new fun ideas for! And sometimes you scratch their name into the margins of your lists while zoning out! He’s getting off track. (And, well, this all seems more like a problem exclusive to him…) What he wants most is to have you down here with him, to touch you and feel something, to have you around while you’re awake and asleep.

But to do that... It would be an offense to all sacred rules to meddle directly with the path the Fates had set out for you. Perhaps they’ll have some mercy on him for being family. Either way, he’s going to falsify your cause of death in the records. He's tired of being a bystander in your life. Hypnos doubts whether you can even remember him when you wake up. He isn’t exhausted in his normal way however, it’s no tugging at his eyelids or yawns hidden behind an open palm. This hurts. It’s an ache, an empty hole beyond his ribs. Your warmth needs to fill it, he’s sure. He wouldn’t be able to stand and watch as your life blossomed, how you would inevitably love someone else, be happy and forget about him all together. (It’s unfair. He's never had anyone that wanted be anything of his. Not a friend, not family, not a lover. And now you’re here, the first to not see him as a disgrace, and now he should let himself be stopped by some old rules?) Because compared to what someone right there with you could give, what did he have to offer? If he believed everyone else, he had nothing of worth to give anyone. All he had was this love, what he thinks is love. But you laugh with him, you seem happy, and what he knows of human life is suffering. So many terrible deaths, so many unresolved emotions, so many wishes that never came to be.

Hypnos could save you from it all. You would never have to worry about anything again. But he knows how much humans fear death: It’s reflected so often in their worst nightmares, after all. The last thing he wants to do is scare you.. How surprised you’ll be at suddenly finding out he’s real, not just a figment of imagination!

He’s giddy. The two of you could have be together forever! (And if you didn’t love him back, why would you smile at him like that? Why did you always say you were happy to see him return? He has neither experience in friendships or relationships, but he shares those sentiments, so you must love him too. Otherwise… He doesn’t want to think about it .)

So he visits you. Hypnos floats above your bed, watching down upon you. He caresses your face as you rest, watching you through lidded eyes. You called him it first, but you’re pretty too. He doesn’t care about your hair being a mess, or the dried drool on your chin, or how you lay in a weird position, legs and blanket all tangled up. Your soft breaths are adorable, and he wants to coo at you, to make your face turn warm instead of his.

The thought of his brother seeing you and taking your soul makes him uncomfortable, he wants this vision of you to be only his.

Your eyes crack open with a little groan and before you have the chance to struggle or cry out, he presses a kiss against your forehead, forcing some of his raw power into your frail, mortal body.

It shouldn’t hurt. He asked. Your form was never meant to take godly powers, it’s too overwhelming, destroying you from within, and you go limp within a second. It’s like you fell asleep. A sleep so deep you will never awaken again. (i know hypnos doesn’t govern dreams his sons do but i had an Idea,, hope u enjoyed!!)

---

(THIS IS ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE OH MY GOSH!!!!! You're so talented, this is written so beautifully, it's amazing!!!!

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!! SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO POST!!! I've had a busy past few days ^^; I also hope it's okay that I had to edit it, or it'd be a big block of text, hehe. Thank you so much again!!!! 💚💚💚)

#yandere hypnos #hypnos x reader #yandere hades game x reader #hades game x reader #hades x reader #yandere hades game #hades game #yandere hades x reader #yandere hypnos x reader #yandere hades #yandere greek gods #yandere #long post #hades #submission

[alberivh]

The gravestone of the wilderness — (scraps)

diluc x gn!reader — fluff, angst, comfort/hurt, death, implied werner syndrome, memory loss.

the second stage of diluc’s life, death and you.

a/n : a very very messy writing which were written by me for 2 days…? please listen to je te laisserai des mots while reading this, it would improve your imagination more <3

oh to be a normal couple. Lying in your frail shoulder, diluc exhales his heavy breathing. Trading the air with a brain of oxygen and beauty of life, he let your hands wrapped to his arm. Soothed his messy-red-hair and hearing the whisper of the freedom. Near the lakes of the winery, stand your figure and diluc seeing the sunset in mesmerized glances. It was a peaceful evening, even the birds seems too peaceful that it hurts your soul. The world isn’t fine, how come everything became so peaceful today?

“diluc, quick question..” , you called out his name. Stealing the sunset gaze from diluc’s eyes. His breathing is heavy, his heartbeat is unexpectedly warm. Yet you found his presence a little bit too cold..and too fragile.

“and..what is it?”

“who’ll die first, me or you?” , the question is simple. Like a sword to a warriors body, straightforward and cut short. You pay no attention to diluc’s tighten grip, avoiding his eye contact is the way you make his answer straight and honest. After all, you only want to hear his intentions, why did he still seek you even after your condition worsened? He could had the chance to escape from your affection 3 months ago but why did he stay? Did he pitied the unknown for not being the best of his life?

“you” cold and strong. His whole sight focused on your eyes. Anxiety fills it, tears could even force itself to leave your eyes if diluc told you how your eyes show everything. He seen through you and for so many time, he predicted your words. I don’t have any days left diluc.., is your favorite line. The one he thought to be a bullshit.

“just as i expected”

“but you do know i’m not your doctor right?”

“i trust my lovers instinct better than the doctors, they’re a bunch of creeps anyways” , the sunset falls to the edge of the winery before you could finish your reply. the infuse, the breathing machines and the ventilators were all beside you, accompanying you these past weeks. it was bothersome to bring them all together, but thanks to diluc, you could felt as if you were alive. and with no essentials-help you are fine.

diluc saw your anxiety trembles to sobs. the sunset was over and thus—began the starry moonlight which bright to the breezing sky of monstadt.

“thank you..diluc…” , you carefully clinge to his arm. Hugging it tightly without letting your infuse disturbed the warm of his body. your fingers gone numb but his warmth, it radiates so much energy and comfort to be alive. tears fall to his jacket, the moonlight was yet to be found and here you are pleading your lover to stay. Even if you’re both better dying off alone.

“dying off young is pretty tragic don’t you think? Like us..”, whispering your thoughts under the darkened sky and to diluc who was staring empty at your eyes. It was quite and clear to be hear in diluc’s ear but maybe he prefers to drown himself to your frail shoulder, so he could escape from the reality you were going out from his lines.

“y’know diluc, if i were alive till the 32 years of your life, i’ll be happy to laid on our deathbed together..” , a not so sappy thought to be precise. But diluc tries to understand from what are you implying to say, he doesn’t want to make himself fooled by the guilt of his past.

“and what makes you say that?”

“diluc we all know that i’m dying, i couldn’t always stay like this can i?” “I just want to be free that’s all..but diluc…i don’t wish for someone to forget about me…i want them to know i’m used to be alive and well, i want them to know i’m in love.” — i want them to know i’m in love with you diluc, i don’t want to leave you behind. I don’t want someone to abandoned me behind. I love you diluc. How many times have i told you that? I lost count.

minutes feels like seconds, under the starry night you felt nothing but warm. The warm of his heart and his radiance, although it seems like a facade to hide from your sharp-vision. He is beautiful. but with diluc’s lips under your dry mouth, You could feel more the presence of his fading-figure. Wandering through his palm, the space of his cold fingers and his salty tears. He was crying out of madness. He was frustrated that he couldn’t been able to save you from your draining thoughts.

the sharp needles inside your infuse feels numb. The breathing tube wasn’t as heavy as before. Diluc lips is the only thing you could feel. Under the moonlight, he drops his devotion to his knees. Hands wrapped to your delicate-fragile self. Under the days he left you behind, he apologize. As Now he is humming your lips with hopeless wishes. His kisses are soft, gentle as the wind. Pyro seems so warm to your cryo vision. Unknown for love and ambition to be bear. so this is how falling in love feels like?

the sunrise have awoken, another day has finally begun. Sitting at the balcony with his brother, reading letters and wishes from his inner family circle. Eyebags have grown to diluc’s glance, even his wrinkles start to form onto his charming face. His hair start to fall out to thin airs, leaving half of the once burning red to a pale-silver colored. Enjoying his time with the breeze of the sun, diluc realizes kaeya standing figure. he must be going somewhere..

“Kaeya where are you going?” , voice gone frail. His voice aren’t as strong as before. Even his flatter organs are better than the rusty voice kaeya heard.

“to visit someone, it’s their birthday afterall..want to join in, good-master di—“

“shut up don’t you say that name again” , crossing the words. He exhales his breath. Giving himself an opportune moment to breath the fresh morning air. He flinch to the song of the birds, watching them fly ti the air while the letters flew to the side of the tables. it was a peaceful day for diluc to rest, but nonetheless..he always forgot them. Them who aren’t here anymore. father..and..who are they again?

“Alright big brother diluc ragnvindr..just sit on your wheelchair and prepare your stuff, we’re going to windrise right now.”

“It’s not vennessa’s birthday kaeya, why’d you want to take me to windrise? Are y—“ cutting diluc’s voice, kaeya managed to give him the usual smug face on his sight. Making diluc seems more uncomfortable by his plan.

“Yeah yeah..just stick your butt on the wheelchair already mister, we’re going now woohoo!” , whistling to excitement diluc found his brother action to be quite..suspicious. The road was smooth, maybe because the land of winery belongs to diluc’s and his bloodlines, no? Windrise wasn’t that far from the winery, maybe it is far for someone like diluc to explore such an area in the first place.

Windrise, the inner nation of freedom. The location of free will and vennessa legacy. But why does it feel so..cliché for diluc to remember? He doesn’t remember anything about windrise. He doesn’t remember anything about dying, he doesn’t even remembered the gravestone in front of him now. The air was fresh. The leaves and flowers which grow from the small-location of the gravestone was unexpectedly beautiful. The name which were craved in it was unreadable, maybe it was..once. But never again it would be readable to diluc’s eye.

“happy birthday (name)..me and diluc is in here to plant some cecilia’s..would you mind? Ah if you do..you could breeze the bells there, please don’t mind diluc, he’s lost right now.” , kaeya pleaded to downfall of the gravestone. Whispering questions and rants for the owner of it to know. The bell rang and under the wing it sang. they gladly appreciate your visit, diluc. Kaeya steal his glance to diluc’s unfocused eyes, it look as if it were questioning every each of it’s memories. Who are they and why does kaeya think of them as one of the part of him?

Planting the seeds of cecilia under the ground of the suspicious gravestone. The Crystalflies even surrounded it with grace, as if they all belong to their first habitat, the gravestone of the wilderness. Who are they and why are their remenance so…beautiful?

“hmhm, goodjob. Thank you for accepting our birthday offer..diluc and i will go now, farewell for now, see you soon” , cleaning the dirt from the gravestone. Diluc once again asked kaeya’s answer. But nothing could be found from his brother mouth, it seems it was hidden for diluc’s sake.

“you’ll recognize them again diluc, sooner or after.”

soon never came. Kaeya wasn’t here, he was already gone from the resident, Taking diluc’s place aren’t that easy after all. pale and unrecognized, diluc came to his once work office which he never touch any longer. Searching for documents for kaeya to read for him later at night. His fingertips are still the same, numb and empty. I lack something but what are they…? This uncureable piece of shit was such a bothersome.

oh..what is this..?

a letter? — opening it with caution, diluc found the sight of something he craves. The writing of those who couldn’t be recognized by his mind, yet the feeling..it was warm. So warm and comfortable, that it even shakes diluc’s empathy.

to, my sweetheart, diluc ragnvindr.

i never knew when would you opened this but i think you opened it few years since i have died. I know the side affects of your ilness. So i wouldn’t mind if you forget me all along. It’s not your fault for leaving your old memories and life behind, your ilness is one of the part of your issues diluc and I totally understand that, better than kaeya, better than adeline or elzer. And if you forget about me, it’s fine. You don’t need to remember me, just read this all along alright?

Diluc, my swetheart. You probably found this crumpled behind your documents. Maybe kaeya would found it first than you do and it wouldn’t be much of a problem for me to bare, after all i’m dead and even if you apologize i wouldn’t dare to say i would forgive you. Cause diluc, i’m hopelessly in love with you. I love you diluc. Even if you forget me, even if you died in your old age and disastrous days, even if you don’t love me any longer. I’ll be very happy if you could still read this letter. Your curiosity is the reason i’m alive for once diluc. Your warm is the reason of my short-recovery diluc. You are everything. And if you forgot, then it’ll be fine. Read this letter everytime you felt lost, because no home without your lover, no? Ah nevermind that’s a shitty joke isn’t it diluc? Hehe

I’m very satisfied with what I’ve achieved in my lifetime. I got to be with you and your family. I feel like i’m apart of them, apart from who i become. I escape and i’m alright. I’m alive and it’s all because of you diluc. I’m happy. Very happy. But one thing i couldn’t regret more is the fact i couldn’t marry you and tell my devotions to the crowds. I want you foreve diluc, but our time is short enough for each other sake. Fate was cruel, but it’s fair and merciful. It gave us a time to met each other and i’m thankful.

So diluc, whenever you feel lost. Feel free to found me in the crystalflies and in the starry night of the winds. Whenever you need me, i’ll be there. just so let you know i’m the donor of your heart, please don’t regret the fact i’m sharing my life with you. I’m happy to know you are alive, diluc. As long ad you enjoyed your days and live a well-long life, i’ll be happy to give you my everything. I might couldn’t give you this year, but here. Open this envelope, it’s a present. For what exactly? For your own love, diluc. Accept it, would you? I don’t mind if you wouldn’t, but if you want to wear it, feel free to use it.

I’m very happy to be alive diluc, i love you.

The letters ended and so do his tears scroll through his cheeks. The crystalflies in the gravestone. Oh it’s you all along..? Why didn’t you cry out of regret? Are you happy for what diluc became? Are you, my dear…? He was scared of letting you loved him again. He deserve nothing but your hatred. The envelope, it was fill with your charm bracelet. The matching bracelet you used to talk with diluc.

The gravestone, the cecilia’s..? Aren’t those the promises diluc made before? i’ll grow garden of hundreds cecilia’s with you. But he forgot. Your existance are nothing to him anymore, he lost his senses, he lost everything. This heart..your heart. It was pounding rapidly, it even showed diluc emotions again. He was crying in pain. He was crying in sorrow. Oh god, i wish i’m not that weak. I wish i still love you the same as how those letter told me. Darling, will you love me again? No response. He was truly out of his mind to forget the ones who bring his dimmed eyes back alive. So once again he confesses, falling to his knees as he begged for his mind to remembered you.

The days have past so did you died in his eyes. Casket opened and emptied with your body, cecilia all over the ground. You are dead and yet the pounding heart of yours are the result of love. Strokes his body with empty thoughts, he began to murmured again his love.

your heart..it’s warm, My dear.

TAGLIST : @mikachuchu , @zierx, @childeluv @urujiako , @chichikoi , @noirkkat , @aphrodicts-imagination

#diluc ragnvindr #diluc angst #diluc ragnvindr angst #diluc #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact diluc angst #genshin impact angst #diluc fanfic #diluc ragnvindr fanfic #genshin impact headcannons #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #veille’s angst #dilux x y/n #diluc ragnvindr x y/n

[bestiesenpai]

firsts with Gojo Satoru

Every day I’m reminded that Gojo is 6.3ft and every day I remind myself that I could still slap the shit out of him and I wouldn’t even have to reach that high. That is what brings me inner peace.

First meeting

It’s not often that the Gojo Satoru is tasked with cleaning up curses of any grade less than level 1, but sometimes while he was casually out and about he would see a few and handle them with no issue

Like the cluster of fly heads going through the street, harassing people

It takes him no time at all to get to them, a few long strides and he’s there

With a swipe of his hand, the curses are expelled, gone from the world and no longer causing havoc

“What were those things?” A curious voice asks off to the side. Lowering his sunglasses, Satoru turns to the person looking at where the curses had just been.

“What things?” He feigns ignorance and it makes you snort.

“Those flying things you just got rid of. I was watching them for a while, they were pretty annoying.” While you’re talking, Satoru is sizing you up. He can sense just a tiny bit of cursed energy coming from you, not enough to be of any use except for the ability to see curses.

Worrying his lip, Satoru debated on how much he should tell you, if anything at all. He thought you were cute, so maybe he could tell you a little bit and then lead it into another conversation...maybe get your number.

“Are you okay?” Suddenly you’re closer to him than you were before. In all his going back and forth he’d failed to see you take a few steps closer and peer at him, that curious look back in your eyes. “Try not to think too hard, mister, I wouldn’t want your pretty face to get all wrinkled now.”

Satoru actually laughs at that, his chest nearly bumping into you with how close you two are now. He even bends a little at the waist, completely caught off guard by how you, a perfect stranger, have just spoken to him.

“Ya know, that’s not the usual response I get from people.” Fixing his glasses on his head, Satoru fixes you with a smirk he knows people swoon over. “And my name’s not ‘mister’. It’s Satoru, Gojo Satoru.”

“Okay.” His smirk wavers just slightly when he realizes you’re not exactly falling into his arms, just nodding and then you’re pointing to the sky where the fly heads had been. “So Gojo, what were those things?”

First hangout

Gojo does end up telling you the truth about the flyheads and you take it better than he was expecting

He was quick to get your first and last name, maybe you were from a family of sorcerers...but you weren’t. Just a normal person who saw him expel some curses

The conversation quickly ends after he’s done explaining it to you, much to his chagrin. He’d laid on the charm thick, hoping you’d ask for his number or for an opportunity for him to ask, but none came

When he was done telling you about the curses, you gave him a brief pat on the arm, thanked him and went about your day

There was a soft smile on your face as you walked away, and the feeling of your hand still lingered on his arm

Gojo wanted to see you again, but he knew he might never

“Oh, hello Gojo.” Your voice pops up again in an unexpected place, the candy section of a local convenience store near the train station he’d just exited.

“Huh?” He turns, surprised to see you and surprised that you addressed him so casually. It was indeed you, the person he’d seen before and wanted to get to know better.

“Hm, is it not you? I don’t know anyone else that tall with white hair.” Scratching your cheek, you give him a once over.

“It is me.” He’s quick to answer before you apologize and walk away.

“Ha, knew it.” A sly grin comes on your face and Satoru grins in return, his chest tightening a little bit. Rocking on your heels, you gesture to the candy in front of you. “What’s your poison?”

“Everything.” Snorting, Satoru looks at the candy briefly, eyes scanning on all the ones he’s tried.

“Ouch, sounds like a serious sweet tooth.” Chuckling to yourself, you reach out and grab a bag of sour gummies. “These are my favorite, have you tried them?” He has and he kind of hates them, but he picks up a bag anyway and pretends to read it over.

“No, I haven’t. They’re your favorite, you say?” You nod and he holds them more securely in his hand. “Alright, I’ll get them. And this.” Snatching up a chocolate bar he knows he actually likes, Satoru walks with you to the checker and puts his items on top of yours. “I’ll pay.”

You don’t fight him on paying, thanking him with a smile and another pat on his arm. As you walk out of the shop, Satoru nearly puts his arm around your shoulder. It feels like the two of you are on a casual snack run together before going somewhere to watch a movie or something. Even though you’re a stranger, Satoru feels like you already belong together.

“Well, it was nice seeing you again.” You say, snapping him out of his delusion. “What are your plans for the day?” It’s a wonderful day in a suburb of Tokyo, near the place you’d first met. The sun is beaming but not too hot, there’s fluffy white clouds scattered around the sky and a light breeze.

“Nothing, honestly.” Shrugging his shoulder, Satoru looks up and down the street. Honestly, he did have something to do, he was supposed to meet Ijichi for a little meeting with a few other people. But if he was being honest, he’d gladly be late or even skip it entirely if it meant talking to you more.

“Really? Well if you’re into them, there’s a really good cafe just around the corner. I think you’d like it.” Oh shit, were you asking to hang out with him? Or was this more of a date? Watching you take out your phone, Satoru is confused when you pull up a GPS. “If you want, I’ll send you the address.”

Wait...what? Looking at you with clear confusion on his face, Satoru points down the street.

“Let’s go there together, since we’re already here.” Your eyes widen a fraction of an inch, but Satoru can easily see the miniscule way your face changes. Putting your phone away, you take a step down the street.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Once at the cafe, Satoru feels in heaven. It’s a space made for intimate conversations with closed off booths lining the walls and the rich dark colors decorating the space. It feels almost like a lounge instead of a cafe, but when he sees the menu and there’s no alcohol, he’s reminded of what it is.

“I like to get an earl gray and some macarons.” You tell him as you stand by the counter, looking up at the menu.

“I’m going to get that super chocolate cake.”

“That’s so much chocolate!” Chuckling, you walk up to the waiting cashier, wallet already out. “Go ahead and order, Gojo, I’ll pay.”

You don’t end up paying, actually. Gojo quickly plucked your wallet from your hands and put his money down instead. It wasn’t that he was trying to impress you by paying for everything, but he kind of was. He wanted you to know he was dependable.

Sliding into a booth, he can feel your knees knocking together, legs sliding between one another as you get comfortable. With the light from the window illuminating you, Satoru wished he could take a picture of you.

“Let me know how you like it.” Taking a sip of your tea, you watch him expectantly. Not one to disappoint an audience, Satoru takes a bite of the cake and lets out a pleased hum.

“(Y/N), this is great.” He practically moans, eagerly taking another bite.

“Knew you would like it.” You’ve got a silly smile spreading your cheeks wide, and Satoru lifts his hand up, wanting to pinch your cheek.

“You’ve got good taste.” He says instead, putting his elbow on the table to cover up his attempt at trying to touch your face. “I really like it here.”

You’re a very big reason why he likes it there.

First date

Gojo makes sure to get your number after that, he refuses to miss an opportunity like that

He can’t risk the possibility of just ‘maybe’ running into you again, he needs to insert himself into your life more than just chance run-ins

Gojo is a great texter, you’ll learn that quickly. He messages you back promptly, having riveting conversations with each other and sometimes calling on the phone as well

Whenever his phone goes off and it’s not you he automatically deflates, and has on more than one occasion answered the phone and opened up the conversation with ‘you’re not (Y/N), but I guess I have time to talk’ with a big dramatic sigh after

He asks you out the second he has a free day, just begging and hoping you’re also available

And with his oh so good luck, you are!

“How’d I know you’d pick an arcade?” You chuckle as you approach his waiting figure outside the building. Satoru is dressed nicely, but not too much. A smart bomber jacket with a plain black shirt underneath and jeans, not overdressed but more put together than his everyday look. And of course, his signature glasses.

“I have to show you I’m the best at everything.” Opening the door for you, he’s eager to get started on playing some games. “(Y/N), wander around and see what you wanna do first, I’ll exchange some money.”

“Okay.” You’ve given up on trying to pay for things when Satoru is around, he will adamantly refuse. Wandering around the arcade floor between the different machines, your eyes settle on a claw machine, a cute Pikachu plush just sitting there waiting for you.

“Gojo.” You’re bouncing on your heels watching him exchange money, and as soon as he collects all the coins you grab him by the hand and bring him to the claw machine. A light pink tinge paints his cheeks and he doesn’t look away from your hands connected together until you let go and tap on the glass. “Look at this plush! It needs me.”

“Here, try for it.” Putting a generous amount of coins in the machine, Satoru stands next to you and watches as you try to pick it up with the claw several times but fail. The plush doesn’t move at all with any of your attempts, making a frustrated whine leave the back of your throat.

“Pikachu, I love you.” You say, dramatically putting a hand on your heart and looking at the plush.

“Let me try, I’ll get it.” Confidently stepping up to the controller, Satoru smirks and taps the glass. “I’ll get the little guy real easy.”

“Mhmm, whatever you say.” Rolling your eyes, you stand close to him, eyes watching keenly as the claw moves. Grabbing onto the plush, Satoru manages to move it a good few inches towards the opening. “Satoru!” You gasp, grabbing onto his arm as he moves the plush again and it nearly falls in. His cheeks tinge a little when you say his first name.

“Told you.” He could feel himself getting distracted with the way both of your hands are now clinging to his arm, practically hugging it to your body. It only takes two more tries before the plush falls into the opening and the machine lets out a victory noise.

“Awesome!” You’re so excited that you jump a little bit in joy and actually do hug his arm tightly before letting go. Putting the plush in your hands, Satoru watches as you cutely squish it with your hands and smile.

“What other plush do you want? I’ll win them all.”

He did indeed win all the plushies and toys you wanted. He always let you try first, wanting to see if you could do it on your own, but more often than not he proved the title ‘best at everything’ wasn’t just for show.

Moving on from the claw games, you played the other arcade games around. Mario kart, random rhythm games and even scary shooters, Satoru played them all with you. Sometimes he let you win, other times he completely destroyed you. And when something scared you, he was always there to put an arm around your shoulder and protect you.

First confession

You spend far too many hours in the arcade, playing game after game and accumulating an obscene amount of claw game prizes

Gojo doesn’t joke around damnit!

He also forces Ijichi to come and drive you home lol and he sits in the backseat with you, holding your hand and playing with your fingers while you make friendly conversation with Ijichi

Carrying the bag full of plushies to your door, Gojo sets them in the threshold of your apartment before looking back at you

The open door is like a void just begging for Satoru to step into. The soft overhead light you’d flicked on was enough to illuminate a little more of your apartment, and from what Satoru could see it was nicely decorated and smelled like flowers.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” Biting your lip, you look at him for just a moment before looking away again, rocking back and forth on your feet bashfully.

“I did too.” Satoru means it, he’s already planning the next date in his head and the best way to shove his responsibilities onto others so his schedule opens up. Grabbing your hand, he laces your fingers together and holds it up to his chest. “I hope I can see you again soon. I really like you (Y/N).”

“I like you a lot too.” You’re too embarrassed to say anything more, continuing to bite your lip and letting Satoru squeeze your hand. Slowly, the two of you shuffle closer to each other, and Satoru brushes the tips of his fingers along your face, subtly tilting it up so he can kiss you.

Just as he gets close enough to feel your breath, a sharp baby's cry sounds from the apartment next to yours and it makes you jump. There’s shuffling inside and then the door is thrown open and a tired looking man in old sweats comes running out.

“Oh, hi (Y/N)!”

“Hi Mr. Yoo. What’re you doing out?” Turning to him, you try to play off the fact that you were just caught almost kissing in front of your door.

“I realized we’re all out of diapers! I have to go get some stat.” He barely pays Satoru any attention, quickly rushing off with a brief goodbye.

Now the moment had been ruined, you were too far now and you’d pulled your hands away when the door was opened. Stepping into your apartment, you give a lingering look at Satoru’s lips before meeting his eyes.

“Text me when you get home.” You say, and with a soft goodbye you close the door and Satoru leaves.

First kiss

Getting blue balled by a baby was definitely not in Gojos five year plan

He literally can’t wait until you see each other again, he’s obsessing about kissing you

Applies lip balm like it’s the only thing keeping him alive, the man would rather swallow a jean jacket than have you kiss dry lips

Any amount of time apart from you is painful and it’s only made worse when his schedule becomes full, too tightly packed to move anything around

He’s keeping up with you through text and calls but it’s not enough for him, and he lets you know almost every time you call that he wants to be with you, be able to physically touch you and see you

When there’s a little festival in Tokyo and Nobara and Itadori are begging to go, Gojo uses it as a chance to see you again

“Hi everyone!” You’re very excited to meet Satoru’s students. He hadn’t told you he was a teacher, all he said was he exorcised curses.

“Hi!” Itadori is excited to meet you, Nobara is excited to see who’s been taking up all of her teacher's time and Fushiguro is just there, curious about you but too aloof to ask any questions.

“So I take it Satoru teaches you guys how to get rid of those curses and stuff, huh?” Your question floored them, and even Fushiguro was looking at you with wide eyes.

“(Y/N) can see curses.” Satoru steps in, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Yeah, I guess I can see a little bit of cursed energy.” Nobara mutters. Truthfully, they were all too busy asking you questions and looking at how pretty you were to notice cursed energy.

“You guys are really brave! Some of those curses are really scary.” Shivering as you recall one you’d seen recently(and texted Satoru about), you point toward the festival stalls. “But you guys probably don’t wanna talk about work, huh? Let’s go get some food, I’ll pay.”

“Sorry (Y/N), we’re under strict orders not to accept your money.” Making an X with his arms, he and Nobara shook their heads.

“Satoru!” Slapping his chest playfully, you start to walk through the festival. “Let me pay for something, you’re gonna go broke at this rate!”

“Nope, not happening.” Keeping you close to him, Satoru makes sure you don’t pay for a single thing. He’d purposefully brought a lot of cash to this knowing that the kids would go absolutely crazy - and that he wanted to spoil you some more to make up for his absence.

As the night progresses, the students get more and more distant. Satoru had briefed them on the way that it was purely a date between you and him and that they were just tagging along and not to stick around for too long.

“This snow ice is so good!” At a more secluded spot at the festival, you and Satoru find a bench to sit at and enjoy the frozen treat he’d bought.

“Feed me.” Opening his mouth, Satoru sticks his tongue out obnoxiously while waiting for you.

“You’re gonna drool on yourself.” You laugh, quickly scooping some up and putting it in his mouth. Holding your hand, Satoru lets the ice fully dissolve before pulling the spoon out. He wants to make a teasing sexual comment, but a loud boom sounds in the sky before he can.

“Fireworks.” He whispers, looking up at the sky as it’s illuminated with bright flashes of light. You let out a noise in awe of the display, and Satoru is suddenly staring right at you. Looking at the way your eyes reflect the light, he can’t stop himself from leaning forward.

“Sa-” Turning your head at the same time he’s about to kiss your cheek, your lips connect. You gasp, and if Satoru hadn’t also been holding onto the snow ice it would have fallen from your hand.

He doesn’t miss an opportunity though, pressing firmly on your lips and tilting his head a little. Your eyes flutter closed, and you pull away for a brief moment to lick your lips before going back in. The sound of fireworks continue to boom above you, continuing to flash light across your closed eyes. It all adds to the experience of kissing Satoru.

“You taste so sweet.” He says when you pull away to breathe, keeping his face close enough that he can rub his nose against yours.

“Shut up.” Satoru can practically feel the heat radiating off your face and it makes him chuckle. Giving you another kiss, he pulls away when the fireworks stop going off. The smile you have on your face warms his heart, his cheeks a light red color to show for it.

“Looks like we’ll need more ice.” Holding up the melting treat, a little pout settles on your lips and Satoru audibly coos.

“I’ll be right back.” Shooting up from the bench, he nearly runs to the stall, already hurting from being apart and eager to get back to you.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N: THIS IS THE MOMENT YOU ALL HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR. PURE FLUFF AHEAD!!!

Masterlist

Chapter 24

The doorbell rang Friday night as you were popping popcorn in the microwave for family movie night.

“I’ll get it,” you called out, walking to the front door.

You opened it to see Penelope standing there. She immediately grabbed your hand and started tugging.

“You’re coming with me, soon-to-be Mrs. Reid,” she tried to drag you out of the house.

“Spencer! Code pink! Code pink!” you yelled.

You heard Spencer dashing towards the front door.

“You’re not taking her anywhere,” Spencer wrapped his arm around your waist.

“It’s bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other the day of the wedding,” Penelope stomped her high heel in protest.

“Yes, we knew you would say that so we bought these,” you and Spencer held up sleep masks, “Me and Spence will put these on before we go to bed. I’ll set my alarm 15 minutes before his so I will be up and out of the room, headed to Rossi’s before he even sees me. No bad luck and I still get to sleep with my fiancé, everyone’s happy!”

“I should have known you guys would find a loophole. You even had a whole code name,” Penelope huffed.

“I’m sorry, Pen,” you laughed, “I will see you in the morning.”

You gave her a big hug before she returned to her car.

“A brilliant idea if I do say so myself, Dr. Reid,” you grinned.

He leaned down to kiss you as Jo shouted “you’re missing Nemo.”

-

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You fumbled to swipe your phone alarm off without actually being able to see it.

Once you got it off, you felt Spencer’s arms tighten around you.

“Keep that blindfold on, mister,” you demanded.

“Don’t go,” he mumbled.

“Do you not want us to get married today?” you teased.

You felt Spencer’s arms slowly retract from around you after giving you one final squeeze.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you giggled.

“Bye, love you,” he tried to kiss you but ended up kissing your nose.

You put your hand flat on his face to find his lips and then guided yourself to them.

“I can not wait to marry you,” you whispered after pulling away.

“10 hours,” he whispered back and you could feel his smile as you went in for another kiss.

You slowly got out of bed and crawled towards the door to avoid hitting anything. However, you slammed your head right into the door.

“Ouch!” you rubbed the top of your head.

Spencer sat up in bed, still with his blindfold on, “Love, are you okay?”

“Yep, I found the door,” you laughed, “I will see you at the aisle.”

“I can not wait to be reduced to a blubbering, crying mess in front of my closest friends and family,” Spencer smiled.

You felt around for the door knob and opened it, taking off your blindfold once you were out of the room. You picked up your bag that you had set outside your door with all of your skincare and makeup before heading out the door to Rossi’s.

By the time you had gotten there, the driveway was full of trucks and vans dropping off decorations and setting up the canopy and tables.

The second you rang the doorbell, you were pulled inside by JJ and Emily who were already in their dresses.

“You both look gorgeous!” you exclaimed as they dragged you up the stairs.

“Here’s a muffin,” JJ said as she sat you down.

Emily was already assessing your hair and combing it out.

“Penelope told us what you did last night,” Emily smiled, “I think it was extremely adorable.”

JJ nodded in agreement as she pulled the makeup products out of your bag.

“I would just feel weird if I was away from him for a night now since we are so used to being right next to each other. Speaking of Pen, where is she?” you asked.

“She needed to make sure they put the lattice trellis in the right place so the sun would set directly behind it,” JJ informed you.

You and Spencer would be getting married in front of a lattice trellis covered in vines and an assortment of flowers right at sunset.

“What would I do without her and you guys?” you laughed.

-

Spencer groggily answered the door to see Derek standing there, holding both of their tuxes.

“Ready to get married, Pretty Boy?” he grinned.

“Yes,” Spencer rubbed his eyes to wipe away the tiredness, “Let me wake Jo up.”

Spencer walked back up the stairs and opened Jo’s door, sitting at the edge of her bed.

“Time to get up, Princess,” he whispered, “You get to wear your new dress today.”

Jo’s eyes shot open and she got out from underneath the covers, revealing she was already in fact in her dress.

“You got up already?” Spencer laughed, picking her up.

“I tricked you, Daddy,” she giggled.

“Yes, you did,” Spencer smiled, “There’s someone here to see you.”

“Uncle Derek!” Jo exclaimed.

“Jo!” Derek shouted, accepting the little girl into his arms, “Well, don’t you look nice. Auntie Penelope was telling me how excited she is to do your hair later.”

Jo nodded enthusiastically.

“You get ready,” Derek pushed the tux into Spencer’s arms, “I’ll get Jo breakfast.”

-

You stood at the back of the line in front of the glass double doors leading out to Rossi’s backyard.

As the violins and piano began to softly play, you heard Penelope say, “Jo, go see your Dad.”

The doors opened to let Jo out, holding her basket of white rose petals.

You sneakily watched from a nearby window as Jo took her job very seriously, throwing a handful of petals every other step and then taking a seat in the front row next to Henry and Will.

JJ, Emily, and Penelope all proceeded down the aisle one by one, standing on the opposite side of Derek and Rossi who were standing next to Spencer.

You ran back from the window to in front of the doors, grabbing your bouquet from the table. You had decided to walk down the aisle alone. Your parents were in the audience here to support you but you were your own woman, you didn’t need to be “given away” to Spencer.

The doors opened for the final time and you stepped out. Spencer turned to face you and you could see the tears already glistening in his eyes.

You smiled and mouthed ‘I love you’ as you walked down the aisle and he mouthed ‘I love you too’ as the tears quickly began to form in your eyes as well.

You took your spot in front of Spencer and Jo waved to you both which elicited a small chuckle from the crowd.

“Hi, baby,” you waved back.

You don’t even think Spencer noticed because his eyes were laser-focused on you.

“Shall we begin?” Hotch asked and you both nodded.

“I would like to thank everyone for being here to help Y/N and Spencer celebrate this special day in which they attest to their love for one another. Spencer, would you like to read your vows first?”

Spencer nodded, “I have never admitted this to her until now but the first time I spoke to Y/N is because I offered her a sweatshirt. I actually brought that sweatshirt to the library with me that day, hoping the pretty girl who was always shivering would finally have a reason to acknowledge me. That was the single best decision of my life. Unfortunately, a little over a year later, I made the single worst decision of my life by letting you go,” Spencer started to get choked up, “I honestly think my ‘genius’ title should be taken away for that alone. Somehow, I was graced with the opportunity to come back into your life even though I didn’t deserve it. And your life now revolved around one particular little girl that I grew to love more than I thought was ever possible. So, I just wanted to say scientists learn from their mistakes so while I can’t promise I won’t make any more in the future, I can tell you for sure that I will never let go again.”

“Oh wow,” you sniffled, taking a kleenex and your little journal from Penelope, “How am I supposed to top that?”

“I really don’t care what you have to say, you marrying me is more than enough,” he whispered.

“Oh my god, you’re still coming up with better vows than me on the spot,” you whispered back.

“Much like Spencer, I also wrote about our first encounters in college. Spencer and I quickly formed an unspoken agreement that we would always meet at the same table in the library. One night, when he was taking the time to repeatedly explain to me a calculus concept I just wasn’t getting even though I knew he had a paper due tonight, I thought to myself ‘this one is too good to let get away’. So at our next meeting, I ordered takeout from his favorite restaurant and set up a little dinner for us. It was all worth it when I saw him walk in with his textbooks only to be soon lost for words when I asked him if he would go on a date with me. I never really dated anyone in the time we were apart, I just had this feeling that our story was far from over and I’m so so glad that feeling was right. I promise I will never stop loving you, no matter what, because I don’t think I could even if I tried” you stated.

“Spencer, with this ring, do you take Y/N to love and to hold, to cherish and respect her in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, from this day forward?” Hotch asked.

“I do,” Spencer smiled as you slipped the band on to his ring finger.

“Y/N, with this ring, do you take Spencer to love and to hold, to cherish and respect him in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, from this day forward?” Hotch repeated.

“Absolutely I do.”

Spencer slipped the ring on your finger.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Virginia, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride,” Hotch smiled.

Spencer cupped your cheeks, pulling you as close as he could and kissing you deeply. Everyone cheered as you both interlocked your hands and headed down the aisle.

As soon as you were inside, Spencer pulled you in for a more passionate, sloppy kiss.

“I didn’t want an audience for that,” he grinned, pulling you back in.

“Bleh,” you heard Derek say, who had Penelope on his arm, “Do you guys need to go home already?”

“No, we can wait a few more hours,” you giggled but Spencer whined.

JJ and Will had offered to take Jo for the night so you and Spencer had the house to yourself. You had opted for just spending one night away from Jo rather than a long honeymoon. You were going to take a family vacation all together instead.

A few minutes later, you heard Penelope and Derek announce on the microphone, “Now introducing for the first time ever, Dr. and Mrs. Reid!”

You exited the glass doors once again, holding you and Spencer's interlocked hands up in the air as everyone cheered under the big white canopy with fairy lights.

“Please clear the dance floor for their first dance together as husband and wife,” Penelope smiled.

Bloom by The Paper Kites faded in as Spencer’s arms wrapped around your waist. You rested your head against his chest and wrapped your hands around the back of his neck.

You felt him rubbing small circles on your side with his thumb as he planted a kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you so much, my husband,” you whispered.

“I love you more, my wife,” he smiled.

You swayed gently back and forth until the music faded out. Spencer leaned down and kissed you as you stopped swaying. You completely forgot you were in front of an audience until you pulled away from Spencer and the crowd erupted into a cheer.

You looked into the audience to see Diana twirling Jo around in a circle. Luckily, an aid was able to bring her on such short notice.

After everyone had enjoyed the banquet, Hotch and Emily took the microphone this time.

“Time for the cutting of the cake!” they cheered.

You and Spencer both stood from the main table to go get the first pieces. You both held the knife together, cutting out two pieces.

You grabbed the plate that your slice was on and gently shoved it into Spencer’s nose, laughing as he pulled the plate away, his face covered in white frosting.

“You think that’s funny?” he grinned, grabbing his piece and pressing it into your face.

You continued your giggling fit as he cut another piece.

“Princess, come here!” he called out.

Jo ran up, eager to get a first taste of the cake and you and Spencer pressed another piece right into her face.

Jo stuck her tongue out and licked some off her face, “It tastes good,” she smiled as you and Spencer continued to laugh.

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