#although; she also seems to like to be commanded

[psychcdelica]

"I might love cute things, but I'm pretty weak to sporty guys with a sweet disposition."

#although; she also seems to like to be commanded #muse: Anelace. #listen im playing ou//r li//fe and i love der//ek #blog: Open.

[queenshelby]

Uncle Tommy (Part One)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Niece Reader

Warning: Smut, Incest, Taboo Relations, DDLG, Dub-Con

And yes, this was a request! Please comment and engage!

It was during the month of August that you moved back to Birmingham after having spent almost twelve years travelling with your mother Esma after your father died and whilst your mother disliked the idea, you were eighteen now and to put it bluntly, you were no longer a child and had to make your own decisions.

Your mother had met and married another man a few years ago, and you had no desire to be a burden on their newfound happiness so, when your Aunt Polly suggested for you to move in with either her or your Uncle Tommy, you were grateful for the opportunity.

Your Uncle Tommy had horses and you had always loved the idea of working with them, so it was an easy decision to move in with him. Your Uncle Tommy had a new wife. She was his third wife and whilst you thought that living with a man like him and his newfound love would be slightly awkward, you settled in easily. 

After a few days, you began to feel more comfortable in your new surroundings, enjoying your work with the horses and even though you had not seen your Uncle Tommy for over 12 years beforehand, he seemed genuinely happy to see you.

You came across as bright, intelligent and respectful and found yourself in your uncle's office quite often, helping him with paperwork and other business-related tasks. However, there was something peculiar about your Uncle Tommy. Something that made you feel slightly uncomfortable but also somewhat exited when he was around, although you couldn't quite put your finger on what it was.

He was a mid-forty-year-old attractive man with a commanding presence, handsome, with piercing blue eyes and jet-black hair. You never remembered him like this from your childhood. Now he seemed to have acquired a distinguished elegance - a byproduct, perhaps, of his wealth and power.

It wasn’t just his looks, but also the way he carried himself. Confident, commanding, yet respectful. He treated you like an adult and didn’t hesitate to give you the responsibility you craved.

But then, occasionally, you felt as though he made some advances towards you which you were not sure whether or not you should reciprocate. He was your uncle after all. He was a married man, and you were in a relationship with a good young man who happened to be working in your uncle's factory. 

On occasion, your uncle would put a stray hand on your waist, his fingers lightly tracing your curves as he leaned in close to whisper something mundane, his warm breath tickling your ear in a way that made you shiver.

You would quicken your pace, eager to escape the alluring pull of his nearness and return to the comfort of your own room. However, sometimes, you got lost in the moment, in his mesmerizing blue eyes that seemed to see straight through you.

One evening, after a particularly long day of work with the horses, you found him in the study.

He was sitting behind his desk, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a pen in the other. His eyes were focused on some documents in front of him, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

"Uncle Tommy," you said softly, not wanting to disturb him.

He looked up, his gaze softening as he took in your appearance. You were wearing a simple dress that hugged your curves and showed off your legs. Your hair was loose around your shoulders, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks under his gaze.

"Come in, Love," he said, gesturing to the empty chair in front of his desk. "What can I do for you?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"I just wanted to talk to you about something," you said finally. "It's about James, the young man I am seeing," you told him, causing him to furrow his eyebrows.

"What about him?" your uncle asked , setting his glass aside and giving you his full attention. There was a hint of something in his tone that you couldn't quite place, but it made you feel slightly uneasy.

"Well," you began, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. "I just wanted to let you know that we're getting serious. I think we might even get engaged soon which means that, maybe, I would be moving in with him."

Your uncle's expression didn't change, but you saw a flicker of something in his eyes that made you feel uncomfortable.

"Love, you are fucking 18 years old, " he said, his voice low and controlled. "You should not be making decisions like that yet," he said honestly as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled under his chin as he looked at you thoughtfully.

"I respect your feelings for this young man," he said finally. "But I urge you to be careful, eh? Don't be a fool. You are a fucking Shelby and you  do not commit yourself to just anybody," your uncle said and you sat there in silence for a moment, digesting his words. You knew he was right, of course. You were young and had a whole life ahead of you. You should not make any rash decisions, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

"I understand Uncle Tommy, but I really love him,"  you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your uncle chuckled in response before leaning over the desk and caressing your cheek.  His touch was gentle, but the heat of it sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and danger at the same time.

"You are a beautiful young woman Y/N, " your uncle said, his voice dripping with suggestion. "And you deserve much better than a factory worker like him who seems to have no fucking aspirations to become anything more, eh," he added, his fingers tracing your jawline.

His fingers lingered longer than necessary, and you felt a strange heat spreading through your body. You knew you should pull away, but you couldn't bring yourself to move. Instead, you felt yourself leaning into his touch, your heart racing as your mind filled with forbidden thoughts just before his wife walked into the study.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt," she said as she entered the room, her eyes flickering between you and your uncle.

Your uncle quickly withdrew his hand, his face becoming impassive as he greeted his wife with a warm smile.

"No, it's alright, love. Y/N and I were just having a discussion about her future," he said, his voice betraying no emotion.

You quickly stood up, eager to escape the tension in the room, but you took what your uncle had said to heart. You knew that he was right and, over the next few weeks, the relationship between you and James became strained.

A few weeks later...

It was around 10 o'clock when you heard a knock on the door of your bedroom. You were sitting on your bed, reading a book and trying to clear your mind. 

"Come in," you called out, setting your book aside and straightening your posture as the door opened and your uncle stepped inside.

He looked striking as ever, his hair perfectly styled and his suit tailored to perfection. His eyes scanned over you in a way that made you feel both excited and slightly uneasy.

"Uncle Tommy, what are you doing here?" you asked as he entered your bedroom, closing the door behind him, before sitting down by your side.

"I just came to check on you, Love," he said , eyes gleaming as he looked at your young and naive figure. "To see if you were doing alright," he continued, running his fingers ran through your hair. "Frances told me that you have been having some problems with this boy you were seeing," he then admitted  , with a hint of concern in his voice.

You couldn't help but feel grateful for the attention, and somehow, comforted. You thus sat up next to him, wearing nothing but your satin nightgown, confiding about what happened between you and James.

"We had a little argument because he wants things that I am not ready for, you know. So, I have distanced myself a little from him for now and it's really making me sad," you answered honestly, and your uncle nodded before resting his hand on your bare thigh. 

Your uncle's touch sent a jolt of pleasure throughout your body, his skin was warm and rough, you leaned in slightly towards him, letting out a soft sigh.

"Well, I told you before Love, you deserve better than a boy like James fucking McFallon, eh," your uncle said with a gentle voice, running his fingers up your thigh, causing you to shiver.

"Now, tell me though Sweetheart, he didn't make you do anything you didn't want to do, did he? Because if he has, then I will need to deal with him,"  Thomas said, his voice a low growl.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and safety in your uncle's presence. You knew that he would always be there for you and protect you from anything that could harm you.

"No, he didn't. I just didn't want to take the next step with him yet," you said softly, looking up at your uncle.

His fingers were still tracing their way up your thigh, sending tingles throughout your body.

"And he hasn't touched you in any placed you didn't want to be touched, has he?"  Thomas asked, looking into your eyes with that piercing blue gaze.

"What do you mean by that?" you asked, in your rather naive mind, causing your uncle to chuckle.

"I mean, he hasn't touched you down here without your consent , has he?" Thomas clarified, his hand vaguely brushing over your clothed sex.

You felt a sudden heat rising to your cheeks as your uncle's words finally sunk in.

"No, he hasn't. I wouldn't allow it," you said, but your voice wavered slightly, giving away your uncertainty as your uncle's eyes gleamed as he nodded his head, pleased with your answer.

"Good, because if he had touched you right there without your consent, then would have had no choice but to fucking cut him, eh?"  Thomas said, as he gently caressed your cheek with one hand while rubbing his fingers over your panties with the other, before pulling the fabric to the side. 

You froze almost immediately , tensing up as you tried to comprehend what your uncle was doing.

"Uncle Tommy, you shouldn't touch me down there, I think," you stammered while, at the same time, inadvertently spreading your legs.

"You are right Love, I probably shouldn't. But doesn't it feel nice when I touch you there?" Thomas whispered as you rubbed his thumb over your clit, creating a strange wetness between your folds.

"It feels really weird, Uncle Tommy," you moaned as your uncle started to move his thumb in a circular motion, building up a strange and unfamiliar ache in your lower belly.

"Do you want me to stop?" Thomas asked, his voice husky and full of desire as he slowed down his movements, waiting for your answer.

"No, don't stop," you panted , your body coming alive under his touch.

Thomas smiled and resumed his previous pace while feeling himself grow hard beneath the confides of his pants.

"Do you think I could have a closer look at your treasure, Sweetheart? I would love to see that beautiful little hole of yours now, because it is getting so nice and wet for me,"  your uncle whispered in your ear while slipping his fingers under the waistband of your panties.

"Uncle Tommy, I don't know if that's a good idea," you said, gasping slightly as you felt your uncle's fingers touch your intimate areas.

"I promise, Love, I will make you feel really nice down there," Thomas reassured you, sliding his index finger over your wet folds. 

"Okay , but just this once," you agreed, reluctantly but with a hint of curiosity in your voice.

"Good girl. Why don't you lie down for me , Love?" Thomas suggested, removing his index finger from your wetness and giving you a soft pat on your bottom, encouraging you to lie back down on the bed.

You didn't resist and followed your uncle's instructions, biting your lip as he slipped off your panties, leaving you bare before him.

Thomas couldn't help but admire the sight of your body laid out before him. Your legs were slightly parted, giving him a glimpse of your beautiful, wet sex. Without warning, he then spread your labia open with his fingers, exposing your clit and inner folds.

"Such a beautiful sight, eh" Thomas whispered while gently tracing your folds with his index finger, causing you to shiver at the touch.

"You are simply stunning, Love," Thomas continued, awe in his voice as he leaned down to get a closer look.

"Have you ever put your fingers inside your little tressure box here?"  Thomas asked, his voice low and deep as he gently circled your clit with his thumb.

"No, I don't think I have," you replied, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves as your uncle asked you such a personal question.

"Would you like me to be the first one to do it?" Thomas asked, his eyes gleaming with desire.

"I-I don't know," you stammered, feeling yourself flush at the thought. "Is it going to hurt?" you asked, biting your lip as your uncle's fingers continued to explore your wet sex.

"Only for a moment, Sweetheart. But I promise, it will feel so good after that," Thomas reassured you, before slowly and gently running his index finger over your wet sex again. 

"Okay , let's try it," you agreed, feeling yourself getting more and more aroused by your uncle's actions and words.

Thomas couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as, very carefully, he pushed his index finger inside your tight sex, feeling your inner walls clench around it.

You couldn't help but gasp at the sensation, as your uncle's finger penetrated you for the first time. It felt strange and unfamiliar, but also incredibly pleasurable.

"How does it feel, Love?" Thomas asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"It feels...weird, but also kind of nice," you replied, finding it hard to put your feelings into words.

"Good, that's great Love," Thomas praised you, as a proud smile appeared on his face. "Now, I want you to relax and breathe deeply while I move my finger inside of you, okay?"

You nodded eagerly, taking deep breaths as your uncle slowly moved his finger in and out of your sex. It was an odd sensation, but also incredibly arousing.

You couldn't believe what was happening in this moment, but at the same time, you couldn't deny that it felt incredible. Thomas's fingers were now exploring every inch of your wet sex, causing you to moan and writhe in pleasure beneath him.

"You're so fucking tight, Love," Thomas groaned, as his finger moved deeper inside of you. "But I think I can get a second finger inside without breaking your barrier," he said tentatively  , looking deep into your eyes for consent.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing, but you also couldn't deny the arousal that was building up inside of you. You nodded your head in agreement, and Thomas slowly slid in a second finger, causing you to gasp at the feeling of being stretched.

"That's it, Sweetheart. Just relax and breathe," Thomas whispered softly in your ear, as he continued to move his fingers in and out of your wet sex.

The feeling was still strange and unfamiliar, but the pleasure that accompanied it quickly overshadowed any discomfort you might have felt earlier. Your breathing became heavier and more ragged as your uncle's fingers continued their slow, teasing movements.

Thomas could feel your body tensing up beneath his touch, so he leaned down to whisper in your ear once more, "You're doing great, Love. Just relax and let me make you feel good."

He moved his fingers slowly at first, allowing you to get used to the sensation of being penetrated in this way. He could feel your tight walls gripping his fingers, and he knew he had to be gentle.

"Oh God," you moaned, your head falling back as you felt your arousal build. "Something strange is happening," you admitted, as you could feel a pressure building up inside of you, along with a warmth spreading throughout your body.

"Explain it to me, Sweetheart. What do you feel?" Thomas asked again, his fingers still working their magic inside you.

"It feels good, but I feel like I am about to wet myself," you admitted, feeling a little embarrassed.

"That's good. This means you are close," your uncle said as he started to circle his thumb faster on your clit, pushing his fingers deeper inside of you at the same time.

"Let go, Sweetheart," Thomas coaxed you. "Don't hold back, just let it happen."

You listened to your uncle, allowing yourself to fully immerse in the sensations rippling through your body. His words were like a switch, releasing all remaining tension and inhibitions, sending you crashing over the edge in a dizzying wave of pure pleasure.

"That's it, Love. Let it all out," Thomas encouraged you with a gentle smile, as he watched you ride this new and exciting experience.

"Oh my god. Oh fuck," you moaned as your body trembled and shuddered, the pleasure radiating outwards from your core  , pooling in your belly and spreading through your limbs.

Your orgasm hit you hard and strong as you released your wetness all over your uncle's hands, leaving you panting and sweating. You squirted for several seconds, leaving the sheets soaked and you blushing with embarrassment.

"I-I didn't know that could happen," you stammered, your cheeks flushed red as you tried to regain your composure as Thomas carefully pulled his fingers out of you, resting his hand on your thigh, as he studied your expression. Your face was flushed bright red, and you looked utterly spent.

"How are you feeling, Love?" he asked softly, his voice thick with concern.

You blinked dazedly up at him and nodded slowly. "I...I'm okay, I think," you finally answered, your voice still trembling slightly as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Thomas smiled at you and leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead. "Good," he said simply before standing up, leaving your side for a moment.

You watched him through hooded eyes as he walked towards the en-suite bathroom, before returning with a warm washcloth to gently clean you up. His touch was tender, caring and you ought to ask whether you had indeed wet yourself , but you couldn't summon the words. He then threw the washcloth into a nearby hamper before reclaiming his prominent position on your bed.

"Don't be embarrassed, Love. That's completely natural," Thomas murmured softly as he traced the curve of your cheek with the pad of his thumb, smiling down at your amazed expression.

"I've just never... felt anything like that before," you admitted shyly, feeling just slightly overwhelmed by how strong your reaction had been.

"It wasn't bad, though. In fact, I think I might like it," you added, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you looked up at your uncle. "Do you think I could make you feel that good too?" you whispered, your voice barely audible as you looked up at your uncle with wide eyes.

"I am sure you can, but not tonight, Love. Tonight was all about you," Thomas replied, his voice gentle and soothing. "There is no need to rush things, we have all the time in the world," he added affectionately, before pressing a soft kiss on your forehead once more.

"Now, why don't you have a rest and we can revisit this tomorrow if you like," Thomas suggested, as he tucked the blankets around you, tenderly tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You watched him as he turned off the lights and left your bedroom, before letting your heavy eyelids fall closed and slipping into a peaceful sleep.

T

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#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #tommy shelby #cillian murphy x y/n #peaky blinders #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby au #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic

[reverseexorcist]

★ 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝 ★

"If it's alright could I request Carmilla Carmine x a fem reader who's a fallen angel? Like maybe they met during extermination and got their wings ripped off for not wanting to kill Carmilla's kids or they were already in hell with Carmilla for some time before the extermination? If you don't want to do this that's totally fine, and sorry if this isn't how to request stuff :)."

Honestly, with how this ended, I'm really tempted to write a much fluffier part 2 to this

➲ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 Carmine + !Fallen Angel!Reader

➲ Romantic ☐, Platonic ☒

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 3,462 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, descriptions of gore/blood, canonical Lute slander (sorry Lute), romantic or platonic wasn't requested so I went with platonic to fit the story more (if the requester wants romantic just feel free to ask me), mother mode Carmilla (she might be a bit ooc because of this),

Oh wow.

Oh wow were you shaking.

You couldn't tell if it was from the excitement or the nerves - Probably both if you were being honest with yourself, but you couldn't shake off the vibrating feeling tingling beneath your skin that made you want to fly laps around heaven. Your stomach was doing flips, but you led mask only reflected your nearly psychopathic grin and twitching eye.

Even after your lieutenant Lute shot you a stern look, no doubt pissed off because you couldn't sit still for five goddamn seconds, you still couldn't resist fidgeting with your spear. It was sparkly, and somewhat heavy, and a murderous weapon that was entirely yours! It was also cold, freezing almost. Even against your gloves it made your palms feel numb and seemed to shine in sync with your own valiant excitement.

Baby's first extermination, basically. While the name certainly sounded scary, you'd been waiting for this day for six months (you and the other forty-five cadets in your platoon) and you were ready to do your best! Sure, you were still technically a rookie, hanging around the flock and bringing up the rear of the exorcists, but this was how you proved yourself to rise the ranks, right?

Your heart stopped beating in your chest when you finally reached the front. Holy shit, that was the high seraphim! Sera, right? Oh wow, she really was much much taller in person, towering above the clustering sea of black and white murderous intent. Her outward vibe was motherly and caring, but you could see the glint of distain, guilt and regret sparking in the deepest depths of her eyes. Which was confusing, because you were doing a good thing, right? Ridding the divine planes of sinners irredeemable souls.

The thoughts crowded your mind - Evil, twisted monsters crawling around like bugs in the brimstone crowded crevices of hell. You could only imagine the satisfaction of killing your first hell spawn.

It would have to be cool no doubt. Something big with lots of teeth and claws and that could breathe fire! You had to come home with a cool story to brag about. You'd heard the tales from all your superiors. From everyone including the first man Adam himself, your respectably awesome (if a little terrifying) lieutenant Lute, to the other lieutenants like Michael and Gabriel. You'd have to off a demon built like a mountain to get their attention.

And by the big man himself, you were going to do it. Even if it took you a hundred years, you could already see yourself commanding a group just like yours, bearing a helmet with horns big and curved and bold, black stripes stippled along your ivory wings.

With a very particular pep in your step, you saluted the high seraphim Sera respectively, head cocked up just so you could regard her kindly warmth in fullness. Her smile didn't reach her eyes, and although she swiftly sent you on your way with the rest of your platoon, you couldn't help but let your nerves sway your resolve ever so slightly.

It didn't matter though! You unfurled your wings with perhaps a bit too much of a dramatic flair, but with your spear in hand and helm polished so it shined with malevolent glory, you kicked off without a second thought, tailing right behind where you were supposed to be.

Your first impression of hell was the heat.

With the extermination already well under way, raging fires were already burning up half of the city sending whorls of smog up into the air. You easily battered it away with a few strong flaps of your wings. With your head on the swivel, your eagle-eyes peered around the desolate land for the forms of the sinners struggling to thrive below, silhouettes hidden by the thick layer of smoke and ash blanketing the landscape.

Lieutenant Lute furled out her wings below you, a screeching war cry echoing throughout the battlefield as she all but left your rookie platoon in the metaphorical dust. The sound itself only spurred you on, itching for the blood of a demon on the blade of your angelic spear. Without a second thought, you tucked your wings to you sides and dived below, headfirst into the fray.

Billowing flames licked past you harmlessly, though they burned like hell (which seemed rather apt, considering where you). You didn't falter, flying through the embers like a goddamn phoenix ready to cleanse the realm sprawled out beneath you. The solid wingbeats of two of your fellow cadets only strengthened your resolution, a holy fire burning in your soul - An itch to clear the filth of devil scum away. This was the chaotic strength that your captain had sought to build in you, and now you were finally able to act on it.

But everywhere you looked, you only found simple, humanoid souls running and screaming in terror. Eyes wide, half-dead or bloodied beyond belief as they scrambled to find shelter from the onslaught of exorcists like yourself. Nowhere could you see the mangled forms of the demons you'd been taught to slaughter. Descriptions from your seniors before you passed through your mind - 'gleaming eyes with with wrath and lust', 'gangly limbs twisted to an unholy form', 'mouths filled with rows of sharp teeth, and claws like knives'.

You faltered, confused. The words of Lute rang out in your mind.

"Of course, it's not like they can actually hurt you. You're all warriors, the toughest, just use your spears to stab the shit out of them!"

You were alone now. You couldn't hear the comforting sounds of your fellow rookies behind you anymore. They were well in front of you now, peering around with a similar confusion to yours. But to your absolute horror, they simply shrugged their shoulders and dived forward with bloodlust evident in their glowing white masks. Silver points of spears were jammed through the heads of the terrified demons below. But were they demons? They didn't look like them at all. Every single book you'd seen depicting demons drew them as eldritch monsters with too many eyes to count, tentacles and claws and fangs with nary but bloodlust and vile thoughts hidden within their slitted eyes.

But the demons in front of you looked just like people. You could see the way their faces contorted in terror. You could see them scrambling to help what you could only assume were friends and family, pulling them along and carrying the ones who couldn't run for themselves. You could only feel your heart fall as you watched one of your best friends land on top of a sinner already crushed by rubble, turquoise skin stained red. The begged and pleaded and cried, but their voice was silenced as the spearhead sunk into their skull.

You flinched. The world around you ignored you completely, and for once, you were completely happy to go unnoticed.

Shakily, you touched-down in a nearby street. It was littered with already oozing corpses, but other than that it was peacefully empty. At least here the sounds of violence and pain and terror was muffled, far away enough that you could at least try to distance yourself and get your breathing under control.

You barely reeled in a gag as the smell of blood invaded your senses.

Was this really what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? You could still see yourself in your mind's eye, a model exorcist like your lieutenant now leading her own platoon into another extermination. Maybe this would be a one off, just a shock to the system that would get your mind reworked into killing mode. But, the more you thought about it, the more your heart clenched in pain and terror that seemingly matched the suffering souls around you. You were an agent of heaven, you thought you were killing mindless monsters, not those with human souls! Sure, there were probably shitty people fucking around down here, but what about all those who had to sin in self defence?

A chorus of startled gasps startled you out of your panic ridden stupor. Your wings flared up, trying to make yourself look bigger, more threatening as you wheeled around. The spear in your hands looked more like a prop at this point, and it was clear that you had minimal idea how to use it inside a proper battle. But still, you fumbled with it and pointed it threateningly in the direction of the two demons that had appeared right behind you.

They clutched each other, stumbling backwards and further away from the danger of your angelic weapon. One of them placed an arm in front of the other, her eyes narrowing behind her red-tinted glasses as if she was both terrified by you, but was daring you to do something about it.

But still, you could see them shaking from where you stood. They both seemed rooted to the ground, the one with platinum blonde hair refused to take her eyes off of you, but the demon behind her (maybe her sister? A friend?) was looking around nervously.

You could see yourself reflected in those crimson specs, and for once it made you freeze. You'd seen yourself in uniform plenty of times before, the steel boots and guard gloves and the led, horned helmet, but it always seemed almost comforting before. When you were surrounded by your cohorts, it made you fit in. Out here, you realised, you were the monster.

The ever-present smile on your mask shrunk, falling into a grimace as your grip on your weapon tightened. Your wings drew in, you shrunk backwards, almost stumbling over your own feet in the process of trying your hardest to get away. You never wanted to scare people.

So drowned by your own confusion and fear and reckless thoughts of worry about the future that you didn't notice the confusion growing the faces of the demons in front of you turn into abject horror as a far more ominous silhouette grew behind you.

"I thought I taught you not to hesitate," Lute growled in your ear, placing her free hand on your shoulder and digging her fingers in till your were sure a bruise was marred into your skin. You didn't respond, couldn't even if you wanted to. The trembling that rattled you only grew stronger, and you fumbled as your hands cramped painfully. With a resounding clatter, your spear dropped from your grasp an on to the brazen brimstone floor.

Lute growled.

She didn't say anything, but she knew. The both of you knew by now. You couldn't kill a sinner.

Lute didn't even hesitate before shoving you to the ground. Your head collided with solid stone painfully even with your helmet on, stars shining behind your eyes as her words blurred together as she pressed her foot firmly between your shoulder blades. Your wings shivered and spread involuntarily, and you feared the moments that would come next. Lute was unpredictable, but this could only end with bloodshed.

The two girls still hadn't moved, transfixed in horror as they watched the scene in front of them play out.

Asphalt stung your hands and you tried to claw your way to freedom, fingertips digging into the scorched Earth as you started crying. Lute, however, was stronger than you. Of course she was, she'd been doing this for centuries, and you were still a fledging on her first trip out of heaven.

You never thought it would end like this.

Lute dug her fingers into your wings, tangling into your still downy feathers before she yanked with all her might. The scream she tore from your lips was hellish, agonising, yet the blended with the sounds of violence all around you. You were sure you blacked out several times throughout the process, but by the time your old lieutenant was done with you, barely anything but feathery stumps and golden blood remained of your wings.

You could only curl up, cry and watch as Lute tossed clumps of feathers aside as she stalked toward the two demons that still hadn't had the thought to run. And for the first time in your life, you felt sorry for the sinners that populated hell's ring of wrath.

She would make them suffer, that was for sure. If she was happy enough to tear of another angel's wings, you could only imagine what she would do to a sinner. You didn't want to imagine, and your mind was fuzzy enough that you thankfully didn't have to.

The sound of something sharp rang throughout the air. It made you groan in pain, the sound piercing your ears and making your brain rattle in your skull. Sharp - 'Tink tink tink tink tink.' If you could see the look of relief coming across the demons faces, a part of you might've urged Lute to run. Only, she had just torn your wings off with little qualm, and now you had no shits left to give if she lived or not.

The exorcist never got the chance to strike, her weapon torn from her hands and thrown across the street till it collided with a bloody body. Lute herself barely had time to react before she was struck over the head once, then twice in rapid succession. A whirlwind of white and angelic steel and pure fury launched herself in the path between the two demons and the exorcist. It was almost exhilarating to watch, seeing Lute strike out with her fists in a pathetic attempt of hand to hand combat against her new foe. Whoever they were, they were really fucking fast, almost too fast for you to keep up with.

The fight was over before it started. Without her weapon, Lute couldn't do much against the sinner she was pitted against, and as ruthless as she was, she knew when a battle was lost. In a flurry of black and white feathers, she fled. And then the newcomer's attention was shifted to you.

At this point, you would've welcomed death. The pain alone was making you drift slightly, and you didn't even have the energy left to groan when whoever nudged you slightly with something hard and cold.

"Mother.." The words were so soft, floating away from your ears.

"We need to leave." It was undoubtably her. That voice was the one who beat Lute into the ground.

"What about..?" That was the one who called out for mother.

"Won't she tattle?" So that had to be her sister.

Those words sent a dose of adrenaline through you. With as much strength as you could muster, you clawed yourself into an upwards position. You could feel the clotting blood running down your back, but if you were going to die, you at least wanted to do so with some dignity.

Shakily, with much more effort than was really desired, you reached up and peeled your helmet off.

It clattered noisily like glass against the floor, and suddenly the world was much brighter, much more red and the air was laced with more sulphur and death than you could imagine. But what really surprised you was the look of shock written across the sinner's face.

She was tall. Really tall. The only person who could really compete was Seraphim Sera or maybe Adam, but you really couldn't tell with how delirious you were.

"Una niña?" They all looked surprised.

The one called mother took a few steps forward, confusion and anger clearly present in her eyes. But, as she kneeled down in front of your comparatively tiny form, you realised the anger wasn't directed at you.

"Did she try to hurt you?" She turned back to face her daughters. They both shared a look, but ultimately shook their heads no. That right there, was your saving grace.

She looked back at you, hair pinned into high horns, and took your helmet in her large hands. She passed it off to one of her daughters, before gently scooping you into her hold.

You whined, writhing minutely in her hold as the searing phantom pain of your wings being torn off returned. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks, and yet the demoness tutted softly, shushing you like you were a baby.

Her daughters followed without a word, and you and the family unit moved swiftly through the desolate roads. So many questions were running through your mind, and yet you couldn't find the answer to any of them, your thoughts to lost to the fog of blood loss to ever truly return.

"You better not betray me," Were the last words you heard before promptly passing out.

The plushness of a soft blanket was the first thing you felt waking up. For a moment, you felt nothing but relief realising the entire thing had been a horrid nightmare, but when you tried to rustle the numbness out of your wings, the relief was replaced with horror when you realised that your wings were just straight up missing, only two feathery stumps remaining in their place.

That made you shoot up in horror. You didn't even care about the sharp sting that ran down your spine and into your very being, you were a bit too concerned about your current predicament.

"You're awake."

That made you promptly scream before ducking under the covers like you were a nestling again. A soft sigh reached your ears, but you dared not to venture out from the warmth of the thick covers.

Not like you had a choice, though, as you were soon pried away from their safety. It was her, the demoness with the high-pinned buns. She looked down on you, red eyes glowing in the low light, and yet, you couldn't sense a smidge of hatred towards you. Only distrust and sadness laced her expression.

"How old are you?" She asked after the silence had gone on long enough.

"I'm a fledgling," Is all you said. You didn't really fancy giving too much information. Although, the look of horror the crossed her face maybe suggested that you'd already given away plenty.

"Obligan a los niños a hacer esto?" She raised a hand and carded it through her snowy tresses, locks of white hair threaded loose as she paced back and forth. You only watched her, slowly sinking back into the comfort of the warm blankets.

"You're still a child." It was a statement.

You hated being a child. You didn't want to be a child, at least, you hadn't wanted to be a child in the past. You wanted to join the ranks of the exorcists, and to do that you at least needed to be juvenile. Hell, you were lucky enough to make it into the cadets while you still had baby feathers decorating your wings. But now, the fact that yes, you were still technically a kid made your saviour look upon you with more than just disdain and hatred like any other exorcist, but rather she looked upon you with an emotion that you'd never seen before, and not one you could really name.

"You are a child, and now you have fallen," She eyed your mostly healed wing stumps, and you couldn't help but reflexively flex them anxiously. The literal weight off your back made you want to cry.

"Was this your first extermination?" She gazed upon you with a guarded look. You nodded.

"And you didn't hurt my daughters?" Another nod from you. That seemed to make her relax just a tad.

"Could you ever hurt someone?" That made you pause, the memories of the extermination rushing back to you full force. Tears grew at the corners of your eyes, and still, you answered with a simple 'no'.

She exhaled a sigh of relief before closing the distance and kneeling down to your eye level.

"Carmilla Carmine." She reached a hand out toward you. So that was her name.

You clutched your hands close to your chest, fearing her touch, but gave her your name anyway.

"What are you gonna do with me?" You asked, voice cracking. Her gaze softened, finally letting her guard slip for just a moment.

"Well, you weren't going to make it out there by yourself. You'll be staying with me," The words took a moment to sink into your mind. Well, at least it was better than death.

Gently, like she was working with a scared animal, Carmilla coaxed you out from the comfort of the bed, slowly ushering you to her side. With your wings missing and their remains bandaged, head bare and missing your exorcist helmet, it felt like the safest place in the world.

"Welcome to Hell."

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

#carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel carmilla #hazbin hotel carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla carmine #carmilla carmine x female reader #platonic

[nomaejie]

Master Damian x Maid (spy) Anya 

 Anya tried horseback riding for the first time. Later they return to the mansion

Anya: It was fun. Next time we should bring 2 horses.

Damian: ...

Anya: (He doesn't look happy at all! Damn I accidentally asked too much for a servant! He'll hate me. This is not good for the mission!)

Damian: (She doesn't like riding with me..? Pffft, it's not that I like it or anything! It's just out of habit that I only brought one horse!)

Here is the plot. I bullshiting their clothes so I’m not sure what year its set:

The sudden death of the King forced the young prince to ascend the throne, which caused turmoil in the court. The nobility did not submit to the New King because he was too young. The New King, while taking on a new role, opened an investigation into his father's sudden death. He appealed to the Imperial Knights' underground knight squad - WISE. The best spies are sent into the houses of the nobles one after another to investigate the clues about the assassin of the Old King, and at the same time to spy on their loyalty to the New King. Loid, one of the knights of WISE, he is normally pretending to be a writer, with his wife Yor - a gardener, and his adopted daughter Anya. By order of the king, he was tasked with infiltrating the Desmond family. Speaking of the Desmonds, they are a family that has served the royal family faithfully for two centuries. That also means about the level of power of the Desmond family. Which side they sided with would have enormous influence over the fledgling dynasty. However, Desmond's family is known to be extremely reserved, with a limited number of servants, rarely changing. Getting in is extremely difficult. Coincidentally, the Desmonds were in need of a new maid. Loid's daughter, Anya, feels this is a golden opportunity to help her father, so she volunteered to accept the mission. Although very dissatisfied, he agreed to let his daughter perform the task. Instead, Loid will be on an outside investigation mission. Damian, the second son of the Desmonds, 17 years old. He seems to like Anya at first sight and likes to bully her. In an impulsive moment, Anya succumbed and gave Damian a punch. It was thought that the mission would end from here, but Damian did not fire Anya but also concealed the incident for her with the excuse that "it would be embarrassing if this story got out". He "punishes" Anya by making her his personal maid. He likes to command the girl constantly and make her follow him whenever he can (this greatly hinders Anya's mission). However, he was no longer acting as exaggerated as before. Their friendship gradually blossomed.

#my art #spy x family #damianya #damian desmond #anya forger #Damian like to bossing Anya around #that hindered Anya's mission a lot #I'm bullshitting their clothes so I'm not sure what year it's set #master and maid AU

[zriasstuff]

part two to all because i liked a boy plssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

All because I liked a boy pt.2

Theodore Nott x reader

Beware of mistakes, this is simply what my mind produced after a long period of having no motivation. It’s relatively short, but there will be more parts.

Summary of pt.1: Theodore Nott was dating Pansy, but also seeing you in secret at the same time. After pondering and dealing with moral dilemmas, you decided to end it. But just as you were getting closer with Pansy, she finds out, and this is how it goes from then on. I recommend you read pt.1 of “All because I liked a boy” for better context.

For two weeks now you’ve been trying to crawl your way back into the semi-friendship that you and Pansy shared. All in vain. There was simply nothing that could make up for what you did. No object expensive enough and no apology genuine enough to turn things around. The last conversation in class that you had went like this…

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but-“

“Then shut up”

“Pansy what will it take for me to redeem myself, please just tell me, I truly want to make it better”

She raised her hand after you said that and loudly announced that she couldn’t focus with you next to her. Now you sat next to Daphne. It was looking hopeless.

…

“LETS GO FRESH MEAT, NO SLACKING OFF!”, yelled Angelina. It’s not like you were doing it on purpose. You were considerably good at quidditch, but playing with your friends and playing competitively for house pride were two different things. Especially with Harry Potter, one of a kind wunderkind, on your team too.

Everything was dizzying around you. The players zoomed by so fast that you couldn’t even tell apart who was who. The balls flew up down left right, one blink and you could be knocked off your broom. Quidditch had never felt this intense. You try to manage and not drag the team down, but you don’t seem to be contributing much either. It’s alright considering you were “fresh meat”, but then you remembered that Harry caught the snitch as a first year…

Although Harry was team captain, Angelina was actually taking over the leader role.

“PASS NOW!”, she yells, and you’re not sure who she’s directing it at.

You frantically turn and freeze upon seeing a quaffle flying at you at maximum speed. It was now or never. The quaffle gets closer and closer, so close that you swear it was only millimeters away from your face. Failing was unacceptable at this point. And your reflexes don’t disappoint you. You reach out and your palms get hit with the immense pressure of the ball. It was almost painful, but you had to soldier through.

You’re not sure if it was the right call, but when some guy was hinting at you to pass the quaffle to him, you don’t. Your road to scoring wasn’t particularly blocked, and you had a shot. With one hand steadily holding the quaffle, and the other gripping onto your broom for dear life, navigating you through the players, you inch closer and closer to the rings and…

“SCOREEE!!! THAT'S HOW WE DO IT FRESH MEAT!”

You let out a fucking sigh. That was exhilarating. Hopefully you’d soon go from “fresh meat” to your own name, but all within due time. Right now, being the Gryffindor team's newest chaser addition was enough to satisfy you.

“TEAM HUDDLE”, Harry commanded so you all got into a circle before leaving today's practice session. “Don’t forget, we have a match against the Slytherins in five days, so I want all of you to be in top shape. Sleep enough, eat well, and no distractions” You all nod in unison to his last words, and leave the field one by one.

Frankly it was a bit nerve wracking that you had to play in such an important match, while having just joined. You didn’t want to disappoint everyone after all. But you remind yourself that there is a good reason for which you were accepted.

Your legs and arms ache from that intense practice match, causing you to slump a little while walking. In the dressing room you are left behind, with the others leaving one by one. As you’re about to step out too, you freeze at the sight of who was standing before you.

“So I see you made the team”, Theo carefully states.

You can only gulp at his words. You weren’t sure what this was going to lead up too.

“What made you join? I mean you are really good”

What was he doing? Oh, and the reason? You can’t help but think back to a certain first conversation with someone.

“I come in peace”, he continues saying.

Something made you think that that wasn’t entirely true.

“So what do you want?”, you finally respond.

“I don’t know. I guess…”, Theo suddenly goes silent in the middle of his sentence.

“Guess what?”

“Nevermind”, he swallows. “Good luck for the upcoming match anyway”. He then slowly turns and walks away, head down as if he was terribly ashamed.

So much for no distractions. You completely forgot that Theo played too. How fun that would be.

(taglist and tysm to everyone who supported pt.1: @pumpkinchee @inky-sun @valenftcrush @l4vendereads @rorysbrainrot @helendeath)

#slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #slytherin boys #slytherin boys fanfiction #theodore nott #harry potter oneshot #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fic #theodore nott fanfiction #lorenzo zurzolo #theo nott

[janeyseymour]

Hey an idea for an epilogue to Love Thy Neighbor would be cool to see how they're doing maybe a year later when they've been living together for a while, or when they tell everyone else at Abbott that they're together. No pressure obviously, love the story!

your wish is my command, llama.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12.

Ousted

Summary: the crew finds out that you and Melissa are dating, and have been for quite some time.

WC: ~2.45k

Since Jared’s arrest with the police three months, a lot has happened. Ellie has only continued to grow and flourish into a beautiful seven year old (Melissa absolutely spoiled your daughter on her seventh birthday, claiming that she had six years of birthdays to make up for), you were able to get restraining orders in place against your husband while also getting all of the child support the bastard owed you and then some (thanks to your girlfriend’s connections), and you had moved into the apartment across the hall and in with the redhead of your dreams.

Ellie absolutely loves living with Melissa, although not much has changed even then. Before the three of you lived together, the redhead was often over at your apartment, and your daughter could usually find the two of you in bed sleeping in as much as you could with the little girl running around on Saturday mornings. You still take her the park consistently, and almost all of her routines are the same as they were when you lived in the apartment across the hall. Nevertheless, it doesn’t make your heart absolutely swell when your now seven year old proudly announces, “Mel! I’m home!” on the rare occasion that you and Ellie venture out without your girlfriend before sprinting to wherever the redhead is in the apartment and launching herself into Melissa’s arms.

What hasn’t changed is that only Barbara knows that the two of you are involved romantically. Everybody else just believes that the two of you are quite close and that you carpool to work because you live in the same apartment complex. It’s not that you’re hiding your romantic relationship- it’s just that you’ve never actually bumped into anybody outside of work because while they’re going out to bars, you’re at home or at the park with your girlfriend and daughter. Neither of you are particularly touchy at school either, so while you hold hands at the park or Melissa will set her chin on your shoulder at home, your work crew doesn’t see those soft, warm moments.

But today is terrible for you. You wake up with a groan, and your hand immediately flies to your lower stomach. PMS really is a bitch for you, and it doesn’t matter how many pills you’re on to try to combat those pains. Motherhood doesn’t stop though, and you go to roll out of bed to wake Ellie for school.

But a gentle hand stops you. “I got her today,” Melissa tells you in her deep morning voice. She sits up and runs a hand through her hair before making her way out of the bedroom and into your daughter’s. You hear Ellie squeal with delight at the sight of your girlfriend, and you can’t help the smile that washes over your face.

You know you have to get out of bed though. Work calls, and with the substitute shortage that seems to never end you know you should be there for your kids- even if it means teaching from your chair with the heating pad pressed up against your body nearly all day. So you roll out and get dressed as quickly as you can before heading into the bathroom to fix your face and ridiculous bedhead.

When you make your way into the kitchen, your girlfriend and your daughter are already eating breakfast and there’s a plate and mug of coffee just the way you like it in your spot. There’s also a glass of water, a few pills, and a hot water bottle waiting for you.

“Good morning,” you sigh as you take your place. Melissa immediately leans over and kisses your cheek. Ellie follows suit.

“Good morning, Momma,” your little girl squeaks out through a mouthful of egg.

You smile over at her before reaching for the medication and downing it with a gulp of water. The hot water bottle gets placed where you’re hurting the most, and you groan in discomfort as you pick up your fork.

“That bad, huh?” the redhead looks at you, clearly concerned at the amount of pain you’re in.

“I’ll be fine,” you grumble. “Just don’t let me forget the heating pad when we leave today.”

Melissa gives you a look of pity before finishing off her breakfast. She clears her spot at the dining room table before glancing to your daughter. “Go be a good girl and get ready for school on your own today?”

Ellie finishes off the last of her breakfast and races for her room.

“And brush your hair the right way, El!” your girlfriend calls after her. Ellie’s giggles can be heard from her room.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “I don’t know if I could’ve handled getting her up and ready today.”

“Take it easy today, okay?” she tells you before kissing the top of your head. “I’ll take care of El today. All of you have to worry about today is getting through.”

The three of you are out of the apartment and in the car much faster than you had anticipated. And of course, you forgot the heating pad in your bedroom as you head out for the day, your mind only on the hot water bottle in your clutch. You only realize that once you’re in the staff lounge sipping on your second cup of coffee for the day.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, but of course Melissa hears you. So does Ellie.

“Momma, you said a bad word,” your little girl scolds you.

“Momma forgot the heating pad today,” you groan as you hold your stomach.

Ellie purses her lips into a fine line, as does your girlfriend. “Oh.”

“Shit, I’m sorry I forgot to remind you,” the redhead places a gentle hand on your shoulder as she apologizes. “I’ll run back home and pick it up during prep today.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you sigh back. “I can survive the next eight hours.

You indeed, are barely surviving by the time your prep comes around, and your kids head off to their special class without you there to escort them down the halls. They make their way through the building silently, knowing how much you hate when they chatter in the hallways and wanting to make you proud. Of course, on her way back from dropping her own class off, Melissa runs into your class. She finishes taking them down to the music room before making her way into your classroom.

“Y/N? Hun?” your girlfriend knocks on the doorframe lightly, and the sight in front of her nearly breaks her heart. Your curled up in your desk chair as a few tears make their way down your face.

You brush away at your tears quickly, praying she hadn’t seen them. “Hey.”

She makes her way into your room, closing the door behind you. “Babe, are you really hurting that bad?”

You just nod. “I forgot the heating pad, my water bottle is cold, and I thought I had Midol here, but I was wrong.”

“Honey, I can run-”

“You’re not running home and missing your prep period because I’m an idiot,” you groan. “I’ll be fine.”

“At least let me heat up your water bottle for you.” She holds out her hand, expecting you to put the object in her hand.

You sigh in reluctance before giving it to her. “Thank you.”

“I’ll just be a few minutes. Do you need anything else?”

You shake your head. Melissa peers into your coffee mug, which is relatively empty, before plucking it off your desk and heading down the hall for the staff lounge. 

She returns a few minutes later, and you give her a grateful smile. She presses a quick kiss to your temple before she pulls a chair up next to yours and starts on her grading as her free hand gently rubs your back. With the warmth of her hand and the bottle pressed up against you, you manage to doze off. You only wake when she shakes your shoulder gently with an apologetic look.

“Huh?” you grumble as you open your eyes blearily. It takes a second for your eyes to focus again, but when they do she’s standing right in front of you with concern in her own sparkling green eyes.

“Babe, you fell asleep,” she tells you. “Are you really sure you’re okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you hum out as you stretch just slightly from being in a ball for the last thirty minutes. You go to stand to pick up your kids, but your girlfriend stops you.

“I got ‘em,” she promises. She returns with your kids a few minutes later.

By lunch, you’re absolutely drained. Your kids were being well-behaved for the most part, but there’s always shit that you have to deal with when it comes to them. You groan as you make your way down to the staff room, and when you expect to see your girlfriend she isn’t there.

“Anyone seen Melissa?” you ask as you grab your lunch from the refrigerator.

“She just left,” Janine says. “Said something about having to run out, but she’ll be back soon.”

You scowl as you sit down in your spot. You know where she went- home to grab your heating pad and Midol.

“Why?” the second grade teacher asks.

You shrug. “Just curious. She normally beats me in here.”

The redhead comes in about ten minutes later with your heating pad in hand. “Hey.” She plugs it in and hands it to you.

Gregory, Janine, and Jacob all give each other questioning looks. Their looks only grow more confused when you take it from her hastily and press it against your abdomen.

“Melissa, I told you not to go home and get it,” you sigh as the pain starts to go away.

She just shrugs and hands you the bottle of pills she brought from home too. And then she presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before turning to get her own lunch.

That has Jacob and Janine’s mouths fall open.

“Close ‘em,” Melissa quips. “You’ll catch flies.”

“What- what was that?” Jacob points between the two of you frantically. “What was that?!”

Melissa rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t give them the response they’re looking for.

“‘Home’?” Janine searches for words. “A kiss on the head? What is going on here?!”

“We’re dating,” you sigh as your eyes flutter closed.

“Dating?” Gregory asks. “As in… you’re seeing each other romantically?”

“That’s kind of what dating means,” you quip.

“Since when?” Jacob asks. “Mel Mel, I thought we were tight!”

“We are, Jacob,” your girlfriend rolls her striking green eyes again as she sits down next to you. Now that the cat is out of the bag, you pull your chair a bit closer to hers and rest your head on her shoulder.

“Since when?” the man asks again.

Melissa takes a bite of her own lunch. “Officially? About nine months. Unofficially? The day I met Y/N and Ellie.” Your girlfriend looks to her work wife with a smile.

“You knew?!” Janine asks Barbara incredulously.

The kindergarten teacher just laughs. “Melissa is my work wife, of course I knew. Why do you think I’m Auntie Barb whenever Ellie sees me now?”

“Oh my god,” Jacob gasps. “It all makes sense now!”

“What’s the commotion?” Ava asks as she waltzes into the staff room. 

“Y/N and Melissa are dating,” Barbara tells your boss. “And everyone else just found out.”

Ava gives the two of you a look in approval, not that you see it with your eyes still closed. “Does this mean Melissa is now a milf too?”

“Ava,” Melissa warns lowly.

“What?” the principal asks. “We all knew you was hot, but now you’re like a mother- milf!”

“I am Ellie’s mother,” you grumble as you open your eyes to glare at your boss.

Ava gives you a smirk. “And we all done been knew you was a milf.”

“Ava, I swear to God,” you warn. “I am not in the mood for this right now.” You close your eyes again, and that gets your principal to quiet her mouth. It doesn’t get the others to stop asking questions though.

Melissa answers them, mostly shortly, for the rest of lunch. The bell rings, indicating that the lunch period and recess period is over though, and you groan as you remember you have to get through the rest of your afternoon with the kids.

Thankfully, they’re angels for you, and you have no doubt in your mind that your girlfriend gave the class a talking to while she was bringing them back in from outside. 

You head outside a few minutes late to monitor dismissal duty. When you get there, Ellie is already on Melissa’s hip and clinging to her as she animatedly tells the redhead about her day.

“There’s my little girl,” you sigh as you make your way up to them.

“Momma!” your daughter brightens at the sight of you. She reaches for you before remembering that you aren’t in the state where you can really hold her right now while standing up.

“You can cuddle your momma at home,” Melissa promises her. Ellie seems content with that compromise, laying her head down on the second grade teacher’s shoulder. 

Dismissal is over not much longer after that, and the three of you head home. Your girlfriend cooks dinner, you get your daughter to do the worksheet that her teacher sent home, and then you curl up on the couch like you usually do after a long day at work. Ellie snuggles right up to you and promptly falls asleep listening to your heartbeat as she watches her beloved Bluey.

Melissa reaches for the remote and lowers the volume of the television before speaking. “So, how do you feel about the group knowing? About us?”

You shrug against her. “I don’t mind- I’m surprised it took them this long to find out actually, but I’m shocked you ousted us with a kiss to my head.”

“You looked like you needed it,” she tells you before pecking your cheek.

You smile. “I did. And, thank you for bringing me the heating pad, as much as I was annoyed you missed some of your lunch.”

“Anything for my girl,” the redhead chuckles against you. “Think you’ll be feeling at least a little better tomorrow?”

“I doubt it,” you sigh. “You know how I am.”

“I do,” your girlfriend frowns just slightly. “We’ll make sure that we don’t forget the heating pad tomorrow though, yeah?”

You nod against her shoulder.

“And if we do, just know that I’ll run home again for you,” she promises you. 

TAGS, and lmk if you wanna be added! : @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

[levitiquee]

Farewell, Captain. (Levi Ackerman x injured!reader)

Cw: mentions of blood.

Summary: Levi Ackerman finds you in the verge of death.

-

It was going to rain

You bit down on your lip in worry. This was bad.

The expedition was supposed to be a small, short one. Just to catch a new titan or two for Hange's experiments. Go out, catch them, come back.

It was a small squad, about 15 people only. Section Commander Hange had picked out only a few to accompany. Being Levi's second, and one of the most treasured soldier in the military, usually they wouldn't call you for such simple tasks. The only reason you were asked to tag along was because you were also section commander Hange's assistant, you helped them in conducting the titan experiments. You didn't really mind as you had nothing better to do anyways. And by now, these small expeditions doesn't scare you as much as they used to.

You were ranked at the rear of the formation, along with two more. On one side, Sasha rode besides you, deeply focused. Captain Levi had, for some reason ordered her to come as well, to your joy (Though you suspected it was more of a punishment to stop her from stealing food, since banning her from meals only made the problem worse). You were glad hearing your best friend's coming too as the journey would be far less boring, although Sasha wasn't too enthusiastic. She kept groaning about how hungry she was and how she'd have to wait a couple more hours before she gets some food. (Irritated also because captain Levi had stripped her out of all hidden snacks before setting out.)

On the other side of you were a new recruit. She was in Section Commander Hange's squad, recruited because of her apparent brains in therotical knowledge. But Hange wanted her to have a bit of experience on the outside world too, so there she was. First ever expedition. Poor thing was shaking like a leaf.

Two nights ago, the special operations squad was sent out to clear the area out of any titans, baiting them towards where the trap was set along the South-East abandoned Tsuchou town. So the route was expected to be safe. And though precautions were taken, you and your teammates were much more relaxed, as you rode along, joking and laughing.

Except the new girl. She'd been rigid as stone since you've set out.

Suddenly, the girl closed the distance between you, pulling her horse so near, your legs almost touched. You looked at her, surprised. She'd been keeping noticable distance from you and Sasha until now.

"It's... it's going to rain, won't it?" She muttered quietly, glancing at you from the corner of her eyes.

You looked up and nodded, eyes shifting to the sky. "It appears so, yes."

"How long are we going to go on for?"

"Just a little further. We should be by the traps in about an hour."

The girl's shoulders visibly sunk, her face falling. "Another hour?"

"Hey," you called out softly, noticing the fear in her body language. She looked pitiful. "It's going to be fine. I know exactly what you must feel like but I promise you nothing's going to go wrong today. It's just a short trip, so hang on okay?"

Sasha shot an encouraging smile to her following your words.

She pursed her lips, giving a tight nod. Her hands gripped the reins tighter.

"I know..it's just..it feels so wrong." She whispered. "The sky was fine when we came out, then it turned dark within moments."

You understood. It really had been a good day. Or so it had seemed when the expedition began. Bright blue sky without a single cloud. Then half an hour in, it turned dark, thick black clouds appearing out of nowhere. And wind was blowing so heavy you could barely keep your eyes open, the dust that was getting kicked up by the horses kept flying into them.

It did feel wrong.

You thought about it for a second as you watched the girl gradually shifting further, regaining the distance. Her eyes unfocused, a worried expression settled.

"Sash, think I'm gonna go ahead." You told Sasha.

Sasha immediately started shaking her head but she barely had time to got any words out before you squeezed the horse's sides, telling her to speed up. She did, hooves clashing against the ground, leaving small clouds of dust. You passed through your comrades, ignoring their side eyes.

Breaking ranks was absolutely unpermitted unless in life threatening situations. But when you're favoured by the higher ups and second to none but Levi Ackerman, you get a lot of free passes and unspoken privileges—which, needless to point out, you abused whenever you could.

You speedened up until the familiar figure caught your eye. Nudging your horse, you manurvered it towards him, catching up to him in moments

Levi glanced at you sideways with narrowed eyes, annoyance flashing through his features at your appearance.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue. "Why the hell did you leave your post? Just because it's not an actual expedition doesn't mean-"

"Yeah, yeah" You cut him off, not in the mood for a lecture. Levi's eye twitched, but he didn't say anything. He never did.

If it was anyone else but you, Levi would have taught you a lesson right there. And if it was anyone but Levi, you would for sure at the very least be demoted for speaking in such tone. But though none of you would admit it, the relationship between you and Levi were much casual than it should be between a commanding officer and a soldier.

"It's going to rain, captain." You pointed towards the sky. "I don't like this. Can't we camp out or something? We've cleared out the area two nights ago anyways, there shouldn't be titans around. It'll be safe and we can continue later."

Levi sighed. "Tell that to four-eyes. I tried. They won't listen to me. Keeps saying, 'its not much further'."

You grimaced. When it came to titans, section commander Hange lost all rationality. "It won't be a light rain either. Looks like a fucking storm is coming."

Levi nodded in agreement. "I'll see what I can do." He huffed "You don't have to worry about it. "

"I'll be hella pissed if I get drenched, I swear."

"No one asked. And go back to your damn post, you little pest." He finished sharply, giving you a warning glance.

You obligated, even you knew when to step back. Pulling down on the reins, you slowed your horse down, turning it around to go back to your original spot. Sasha and the new recruit were staring wide eyed.

"You really need to stop doing that. One of these days, captain Levi will just go batshit on you." Sasha shook her head, a grin on her face.

"We'll see." You snorted.

"Seriously, I don't even know why he lets you screw around like this, if it was any of us-"

"Did you ask him about the rain?" The rookies high pitched voice cut Sasha off. She was staring at you, face contorted in anticipation.

"Yeah, kid." You responded gloomily. "Don't think they'll stop unless it actually starts raining."

She didn't say anything, just looked away, distancing herself with her horse again, knuckles taut on the reins.

"She's just scared." Sasha muttered, glancing at her.

"Weren't we all?"

"Don't remind me." She shuddered at the reminder of our first expedition—the one where more than half of us were massacred by the female titan.

You watched the sky with squinted eyes, as the clouds had covered the last rays of the sun, creating an eerie dark ambience, even making you shift warily in your position.

The kid was right, it felt wrong.

Somewhere far away, thunder rolled. Once. Twice. The rumbling sound was almost deafening.

That's when the first drop of rain hit your face. It rolled down your cheek and fell on the ground.

And then the sky crashed down upon the earth.

A curse escaped your lips, completely unprepared for the sudden phenomenon. Surprised yelps from others joined yours. Hastily, you wrapped your cloak around yourself tightly to regain some warmth that you lost.

Oh dear. This was definitely bad .

Within seconds, the world was white. You couldn't see anything. Only faint outlines and blurred green. Somewhere far front, you heard Hange groan and Moblit screaming out to move out to far right to the forest to take shelter underneath the trees.

Despite being half blind, you followed the orders, pulling the reins. You felt the thuds of Sasha's and the new recruits horses match yours.

Then Sasha gasped.

She hissed out your name, her voice terrified.

"Titans." She whispered.

Your heart fell. No.

"What?" You yelled out, praying to God you heard wrong.

"I can hear titans!" Sasha said louder this time, the panic in her tone clear. "From everywhere!"

Damn Sasha and her extraordinary hearing abilities.

"Shit. Shit shit shit!" You cursed out. Why? How? The area was supposed to be clear. Why were they swarming on you then?!

"We have to let the others know!"

"How!? The rain is too thick and loud for the signal guns to be seen or heard! Hell, we probably won't even hear titans come up until they're breathing down our damn necks!" You were losing your cool, the panic settling in.

Scouts did not go out in expeditions when it rained. It was a rule. Never.

But here the fuck you were.

You heard the rookie whimper right beside your ear. Your head turned to see her almost over your shoulders, eyes wide with terror as she heard the conversation, eyes switching from Sasha to you.

"It'll be fine." You said to her, trying to calm down for her sake. But you knew as well, the chances of it being fine was next to fucking zero because Sasha's ears were too fucking accurate. "It'll be fine, just stick close to me-"

The terrified yelps of several people up front cut you off and your blood froze.

A huge, enormous figure standing before you, staring down with wide, hungry eyes. A creepy smile on its face.

You stilled, right there. Your breathing stopped.

No no no.

Not here.

Your horse reacted before you processed it, throwing itself to the side just as the titans feet slammed against the ground just where you've been, sending tremors down the earth. It's grubby hand swooshed over your head.

The mount flailed wildly as you tried to keep balance. You were about to whip the reins and get the hell out of there when another cry pierced through your bones.

From much, much close.

The rookie.

You whipped your head to see the girl running the exact fucking opposite way, the titan following right behind with big, heavy thuds.

You didn't even care where Sasha might be.

She was experienced, she'd be fine.

The kid won't be fine.

In a split second decision, you turned your mount around, grabbing it's neck as it charged in full speed following the titan, speedily crossing it.

You were going in the forest.

Not the wisest decision you've made because you still couldn't see anything except for the outline of the titan behind you, you could crash into a tree any second.

But fuck.

"Hey, you moron! Come back here!" You yelled out to her in frustration and desperation. She didn't even turn around, only speedened up. "That's the wrong fucking way! Turn around!"

You moved, fast as the wind, raindrops stabbing your face like tiny little frost needles, making you wince.

You entered the forest, deeper, deeper.

This was bad.

And then it got worse.

It was the red that caught your eyes. The type of red you could recognize anywhere.

Blood was splattered all across the ground, the rainwater washing it away.

Oh no no no.

The crunch of human bones jolted you awake as you looked up to see the titan that had been the cause of it. You stared. Stared. Stared as it stared back at you.

You looked down, right there on the foot of it, rolling around was the detached head of the girl.

You gazed back up.

And then you saw two more. Slowly, steadily coming out of the forest, disturbingly enlarged organs swinging with every steps.

3 titans in front. 1 in the back.

What have you done.

You had barely turned your gear switch on when the first titan struck, stomping down your horse. Just in time, with the gap of a second from being smashed, you pressed on the triggers, the wires shooting forward, planting to whatever surface they had found and pulling you with it.

It was reckless. Stupid. Using ODM gear when you couldn't see shit. But you were in a forest so hopefully it'll randomly latch onto trees. Or it could fucking slip because of the rain and you could die. But you took your chance, not that you had a choice.

One of the advantages titans had was that they could see clearly in the rain. Their enormous pupils followed your movements, hands reaching out to grab you. You twisted just in time, releasing the wires and shooting them again, using them to swing yourself further and faster.

And you did that. Every time the wires shot out, your heart caught in your throat thinking it'd miss and find nothing to latch onto but fate must've had your back because it didn't.

Until it did.

Perhaps it was the stupid rush of confidence you gained from moving so perfectly, that you had speedened up. That was the downfall. Though one had latched, the other anchor slipped, missing the branch and instead going over it. The moment you realized it, you knew it was over.

The momentum from before and the pull of the wires, you slammed against the trees, hitting your head so hard, you felt your skull crack, the pain ripping through your brain. The anchor that had latched onto the tree didn't bury itself properly and you clashed right against it. The metal hook went straight through your shoulders. And nothing could ever have prepared you for the agony that panged through.

You dropped, back clashing against the ground. You lied there, sprawled and bleeding out, the rain pooling in your eyes, blurrying your already hazy vision from hitting your head so hard. But you watched the titans surround you, an almost giddy look crossing their stupid expressions.

Those little fuckers.

And so you watched, helplessly, as one of them reached out, pulling you up by your legs, your head dangling upside down.

And all you saw was big wide eyes and gaped jaws.

One of the other reached out, wrapping it's fat fingers around your midsections, pulling you towards itself. The one holding you groaned, pulling you back, as if it didn't really want to share. Your abdominal muscles and organs strech to the point you thought you'd split in half.

What a shit way to die, you thought.

You survived Shiganshina, you survived Trost, you survived that damn 57th expedition.

And you were going to die here.

Alone.

While four fucking ugly as hell titans fought about who got to eat you.

'Second to none but Levi Ackerman', your ass.

But your friends, you thought. Eren had yet so much to go, that you won't be there to see. Before you left, when you've said goodbye to Connie and Jean, you smacked both of them in the head, that wasn't a good farewell, was it? Sasha would go hungry during meals because you won't be there to share half your food.

You wondered if captain would be the slightest bit of sad.

Had he noticed you missing by now? Would he miss the little banters and bickerings you had every day with him? Would he be disappointed that you were going out in such a lame way?

You closed your eyes, dangling upside down was not helping your case. Your head was starting to get empty as you felt the blood pool down in your head.

That's good. At least you won't be conscious while you die.

It won't hurt.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four. Five. Six. Seven....one,five, four? Ticktocktickticktocktick-

Then you fell.

It wasn't a gentle drop You hit the ground again, full force. And this time you felt your leg bend awkwardly, a bone snapped.

But it didn't hurt, not really. You were too numb by now.

You felt the ground shook as something heavy impacted. Four times. Followed by loud, gutteral animalistic growls of a titan.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

One. Two. Three. Four.

But it was the sharp metallic sound of a sword clanging was what woke you up.

Your eyes opened and you saw steam.

Ah. Were the titans dead?

But who killed them?

Your head turned sheepishly and you found the answer.

There was Levi, staring at you with wide, wide eyes, mouth slightly parted. His swords were discarded by his side and he just stood there. Was his hands shaking?

Oh, that's funny. That's the first ever time you've seen captain react that much. He looked funny with such big eyes. Was it because of how filthy you were? You couldn't see yourself, but you knew. You must've been caked in blood and mud. Is that why captain was so shocked?

Your mind was so fuzzy, you wanted to go to sleep. Would the captain mind if you fell asleep here? In this filth?

Levi finally registered the sight. He shifted, still in a daze, and then he dropped, straddling you. Careful enough to not let any of his body weight touch you.

He looked so scared.

"Shit." He muttered. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Oi brat—" His hands closed around your arms, shaking you. Your brain felt as if it rattled in your head. "Fuck–can you hear me?"

His hand pressed against your face and he flinched at how cold you were. You only stared at him through half-lidded eyes.

Then, weakly, with all you had, you parted your lips, the words barely audible.

"...welcome to the party, captain. Bit late though I'm afraid." You mumbled. "You do realize shaking me doesn't actually help, don't you? Unless you want me to throw up or something."

Levi felt his heart hitch.

"You little shit–" he took a sharp breath. Then slowly, carefully, he slightly shifted you holding your hair back to inspect how bad the damage was, and it wasn't a pretty sight.

"I'm a goner, aren't I?" you muttered quietly, wincing when one of his fingers accidentally grazed against the injury. Levi immediately pulled his hand back, his hand stained red.

"Shut up." He hissed, trying to keep his growing anxiety from showing. "You're bleeding like shit. Thats way too much blood."

"I'm aware, can't help it." you groaned when your leg moved a bit too much, "Got it on your clothes too."

"I could care fuck less about it right now, you dumbfuck." Levi snapped out. The he shifted off of you, kneeling beside. He unhooked the green cloak around him with fast fingers. The green surface was smeared with dark red in places.

Carefully, he pulled you up by the shoulders, cradling you against his chest. You almost cried at the sudden feeling of warmth, and the sharp wave of pain that shot through your bent leg. Tears stinged your eyes. "Bite me. I knew you cared." You joked, an attempt to lighten the dire situation and to ignore the way your whole body ached and how you already felt the lack of oxygen in the air. Levi let out an irritated breath as he used the cloak to wrap around your head to stop the bleeding. His breathing loud and heavy beside your ear. "Can you shut up, you ungrateful brat? I'm trying to save your damn life."

Levi worked so gently, it was unfamiliar. You wondered as your head rested on his shoulder and his hands worked around you, every movement slow and careful, trying his best not to hurt you more.

Ah, so even the harsh captain can be this gentle. And despite emptiness clouding your head, you felt slightly glad. At least you got to see this side of him. This is a nice way to die.

As if he had somehow heard your thoughts, his jaw tightened. "Don't even think about dying. That's a fucking order."

If only the world worked like that.

Levi knew he wasn't doing a good job. His hands shook too much, and it was causing you unnecessary pain. He froze everytime you winced, taking a few seconds until you stilled, then continuing. He was also aware of how dirty the fabric was, with dirt and mud, but this'd have to. It's either this or watching you bleed out to death.

"Okay," he whispered quietly under his breath, more to reassure himself than you. He turned you so he could see your face. An absolutely panic stricken look passes him when he sees the tears. "Fuck, Did I hurt you too much? Does it still hurt?"

You sniffled, mouth twitching to a grin. You tried to ignore the pounding in your head. "It's not your fault. You didn't do anything."

Levi nodded, his eyes shifting to your shoulder. "How the fuck did this even happen?" He hissed sharply, seeing the metal anchor buried deep in the flesh. "Even when you get injured, it's in the stupidest ways possible." He thought about it for a second, biting the insides of his cheek. Unsure what to do. Then he sighed. "Shit. It's best to let it stay there. If I try to pull it out, might accidentally tear something. And the bleeding would be too much to handle."

"Nice." You groaned, then all of a sudden, broke into a fit of coughs, blood spilling out with each jolt. Levi's eyes widened at the sight, pupils blown out.

"The titans." You coughed, trying to explain. "Must've fucked up my insides. The grip was too tight."

Levi frustratedly ran a hand through his hair, uncaring of the grime and filth. His face screwed up and eyebrows knitted together, the fear in his eyes wide and clear. Internal bleeding was much, much concerning.

"Captain," the word was a groan. Your eyes were so heavy, begging to go to rest. Would that be so bad? "...I don't think I can make this one out. I'm dying, aren't I?"

"No you're not. But if you don't stop talking, I might actually make you a goner." Levi deadpanned while going over your leg. You snorted, the slight action paining you. But it was nice. With him fussing over.

"Come on, we gotta get you back-hey–" he slapped your cheek, seeing your eyes flutter. Gentle but sharp. "Don't pass out, kid. Better keep those damn eyes open. Stay awake. Stay the fuck awake, you hear me?"

His fingers fiddled with your uniform straps, removing the gas tanks and the overall gears. He had to cut down the wire that stuck with hook that was latched to your shoulder since he couldn't take it out. The removal of the extra weight made you feel slightly better.

"Alright," Cautiously, he hooked one arm over your shoulder, the other under your knees. "Brace yourself, this is going to hurt as fuck." Then, though carefully, with one sweep pull, he picked you up. And despite his warning, and the mental preparation, he was right. It hurt like shit. A soft cry escaped your lips. "I'm sorry, just–just hang on." He mumbled, cradling you close to him, adjusting your head so that it rested against his shoulder. He knew it wasn't the most ideal position as it'd be hard for him to move with ODM while holding you like this, not to mention your leg would not probably be in the best state either. But he couldn't think of a better position, your head needed support, he couldn't let any weight on your abdominal muscles either.

Then without moving his arms from beneath you, he reached for the ODM triggers with his hands and pressed his fingers down.

The takeoff was the final push. The jolt as he kicked off the ground and the pain that followed right after was the limit. You knew you were going to die.

"You pretend like you don't give two shits, but you're going to miss me once I'm gone aren't you?" The words escaped you without thinking. You weren't really thinking at all, it's just this urge that took over. But if you're going to die, you wanted to keep talking. You wanted to hear his voice. You wanted him to scowl and snap at you to shut up. So until you can't, you wanted to keep talking. One last bicker. Never in your life had you thought he'd be the one to hear your last words or that his ones would be the last you'd hear. And you didn't mind. At all.

"Fuck off." He responded coldly.

"I'm serious."

"You're serious? Now that's a shocker."

There he went, from one tree to another. You grinned, looking up at his contorted face. He was trying so hard not to panic, his eyes flicking from you to the route.

"Captain."

"Can't you just keep your mouth shut for once in your fucking life?"

"Said life's on the verge of death, so I'd rather not."

"Stop saying shit like that. You're not dying on me."

You sighed. He was wrong. You were indeed dying on him. Despite the warmth of his body pressed against you, you could feel your own temperature lowering dangerously. The cloak he had used as a makeshift bandage to stop the bleeding weren't helping much better either as you felt blood trickle over your eyes. You felt weak, dizzy, disassociated. You could barely remember where you are and where you're going.

"Captain. Thank you for choosing me."

"What?" Levi's eyes shifted towards you, surprised and confused. It was such a strange sight. The bangs he so carefully kept were now all messy and disheveled, some strands sticking to his face with sweat. You returned his silvery gaze.

"Thank you for choosing me. Letting me be a part of your squad. Saving my ass everytime I fucked up. For everything, really. You weren't the nicest, but you have a good heart. And I'm not the best at expressing gratitude but I had to let you know."

"Shut up." Levi hissed through gritted teeth, his voice cracked ever so slightly. The rain had lessened into a drizzle.

"Once I'm gone, there won't be anyone to nag you to go to sleep. Remember to take breaks, won't you?"

Levi wouldn't look at you. He couldn't look at you. But his hold tightened. "Shut the fuck up. Keep talking and I'll drop you." Oh, but you had to keep talking. Your breaths were numbered you could tell. And you wanted to spend them on talking.

"And hydrate. Don't drink too much tea. Stop being mean to Hange and Eren. Let Sasha eat, don't ban her from meals when she fucks up.." the words slurred, your voice becoming quieter with every words and each were punctuated with heavy and heavier gasps. Your eyes closed. The light was too bright for you. And blood was pooling inside your mouth, choking you. "..they care for you. I hope you know that. So be nice every once a while. It won't kill you I swear."

Levi sucked in a breath. "Oi, brat." His voice was so far, so far away. You wanted to reach out and hold on to it, somehow wrap yourself around it. So unlike the usual stoic and dry comments he'd send through your way.. "...I take it back. Don't shut up. Keep talking. Keep blabbering whatever the fuck- Don't die on me, not like this–shit–not like this—" Guess he did care after all. "—stay with me, come on, stay with me.–"

You were fading. Drowning. Floating. But you heard him. His words a broken record, repeating over and over in your brain—staywithmestaywithmestaywithme…

You apologized silently. You would if you could. But the air was choking you and you couldn't stay any longer. You'd stay with his mean ass for life if you had the choice, didn't he know? Didn't he know you dedicated your heart for him?

Oh. Time's out.

Goodbye.

Captain.

(might write a part 2 lol)

#attack on Titan x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #levi angst #aot angst #levi Ackerman x reader #levi x reader #snk angst #levi ackerman angst

[shuugumi]

ex-husband! gojo satoru has two left feet. whether he's on the dance floor at a wedding or a party or even during living room dance parties his dance moves are a unique blend of awkwardness and enthusiasm.

your daughter has also seemed to take after her father's genes of the two left feet. you watch from your assigned table the two hand in hand trying to moonwalk on the dancefloor. the two of them acting like seasoned dancers on dancing with the stars until satoru takes a few steps back and loses his balance. stumbling himself although in utter surprise his daughter helps him sturdy himself.

you watch the two dance on the dance floor as you take sips of water from the assigned seating you were sat at. giggling and smiling away at the two having fun and enjoying themselves.

“he’s cute isn’t he?” one of the guests at the wedding blurted out to you as she sat down next to you in satoru’s seat. you nod, “he is, isn’t he..” you trail off, looking back onto the dancefloor to seeing satoru holding kara in his hands, bouncing away to the hip-hop song playing.

it warmed your heart.

you’ve never had days like this. seeing satoru so care free and enjoying himself. enjoying not worrying about being ready to save a person from evil curses. satoru wore his sunglasses along with a perfectly tailored black suit; white button down shirt that hugged his biceps so deliciously.

you were too in thought to notice them waving at you. “daddy!!” kara shouted after she was startled by satoru showering her with kisses all over her face, using her small but growing hands to push away the love bombing father.

“daddy? is that his child?” the woman asked and you looked back over to her, “mhm…that’s our child. we’re divorced though.” you answered and the womans face was in awed. “divorced? how could you divorce that hunk?” she exclaimed and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“if only you knew..” you trail off, chuckling at the past memories that flashed through your mind that until the DJ had announced for all the couples to fall into the dance floor with their partners.

“you don’t mind if i ask him for a dance?” the woman asked and you shook your head, “not at all, go ahead!” sparking with a smile the woman walks towards satoru and kara. the woman talking to satoru and you watch. that until your daughter comes running up to you.

“hey lovey! you and dad having fun?” you giggle as kara runs into your legs and you pat her on the back. “so much fun! i love when we all together!” kara exclaims as you bring her up to sit on your lap.

“may i have this dance?” his voice was, serious. determined that he would have this dance. you looked up to seeing satoru standing in front of you with his hand out. a light smile appearing on his face.

“me?”

“of course. it’ll be like when we got married…for old times sakes.” he says, gesturing his hand out again and you were hesitant. “go mama! dance with daddy!” kara commanded, satoru and you laughed. swiftly grabbing his hand after and putting kara in place of you on your seat.

“stay there my love.” planting a kiss on kara’s head, satoru guides you to the outter part of the dance floor so that the two of you would still be in close presence to kara in case anything happened.

endlessly by alina baraz had started playing. your heart started to accelerate, feeling warm memories of your own wedding day. satoru snaked his arms around your waist and subconsciously your arms found a way around his neck.

it was quite for a little. “this song played at our wedding too. it was our first dance song if i remember correctly.” satoru spoke, breaking the silence and you nervously look up to his crystal eyes. “you…remember?”

satoru chuckled before tightening his grip on your waist, “how could i not? i got married to the love of my life…”

blood rushed to the apples of your cheeks as you thought about everything that satoru had been through and the reason why you divorced him. it made you feel…sad and sefish. bringing your body closer to him, resting your face on his chest he also finds a resting spot in the crook of your neck.

“i am sorry satoru.” you utter into his suit as the you both swayed in unison to the next slow song that had been queued. “i still have you in my arms even if we aren’t together…i got a beautiful daughter out of it. don’t gotta be sorry for anything.”

it was quite as you two embraced each other. swaying on the moonlit dance floor as the playlist of slow love songs continued to play. moments like these made you long for these experiences once more but you knew it couldn’t always be like this.

at the end of the day, satoru and you still love each other deeply even if there are still unspoken and unresolved problems that hinder your relationship to ever being what it once was. you still find yourself slipping on the engagement ring satoru presented to you all those years ago before going to bed. and satoru finds himself always, slipping on his wedding band no matter where he goes.

“why didn’t you agree to dance with that other attractive woman? she was into you y’know…”

“cuz i didn’t want to dance with her. i wanted to dance with you dummy. stop trying to be a wingwoman, i only ever want you.”

#ಇ. harueina #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk gojo satoru #gojo satoru fluff #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo satoru smut #romance #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff

[tacroyy]

losing my shit about the two times vimes gets slapped by a woman in the guards books (night watch and snuff; spoilers for both below). terry pratchett is completely goddamn brilliant.

both times, it's near enough to the beginning of the plot that vimes is partially convinced he doesn't know what's going on and is still information gathering (so, working a little on autopilot, although thoughts are starting to coalesce). the women he encounters show up after a watershed moment—major transformative plot points on both occasions—and both help him and help move the narrative along with the information they provide. and this is my favorite detail—he's tired both times, too, and just needs to think, because of the amount of new information he's processing.

from night watch:

"I think perhaps I lost my memory when I was attacked," he said. That sounded good, he thought. What he really needed now was somewhere quiet, to think.

"Really? Perhaps I'm the Queen of Hersheba," said Rosie [Palm]. "Just remember, kind sir. I'm not doing this because I'm interested in you, although I'd admit to a macabre fascination about how long you're going to survive. If it hadn't been a cold wet night I'd have left you in the road. I'm a working girl, and I don't need trouble. But you look like a man who can lay his hands on a few dollars, and there will be a bill."

"I'll leave the money on the dressing table," said Vimes.

The slap in the face knocked him against the wall. /end quote

and from snuff:

She [Felicity Beedle] turned to Vimes. "It would seem, commander, that providence has brought you here in time to solve the murder of the goblin girl, who was an excellent pupil. I came up here as soon as I heard, but the goblins are used to undeserved and casual death. I"ll walk with you to the entrance, and then I've got a class to teach."

Vimes tugged at Feeny to make him keep up as they followed Miss Beedle and her charge toward the surface and blessed fresh air. He wondered what had become of the corpse. What did they do with their dead? Bury them, eat them, throw them on the midden? Or was he just not thinking right, a thought which itself had been knocking at his brain for some time. Without thinking, he said, "What else do you teach them, Miss Beedle? To be better citizens?"

The slap caught him on the chin, probably because even in her anger Miss Beedle realized that he still had his steel helmet on. /end quote

vimes makes mistakes. he makes mistakes all the time, and he knows this, and pays attention to them. vimes spends a lot of time thinking about thinking (engaging in productive, internally motivated metacognition well within his zone of proximal development, my master's in teaching insists i say). he thinks about his thinking, and he thinks about other people's thinking through the lens of his own.

in both instances, vimes is coming to realizations about the true nature of things.

in night watch, this would initially seem to be more surface than deep: he's getting to physical grips with exactly when and where (and who) in the past he is; he's learning the ground, mapping, figuring things out—but vimes is also trying to settle himself back in to what he knows, and what society is in these different times, to see if that fits. plotwise, in vimes's present, the seamstresses have a guild, rights, safety, standards, rules, regulations, and even societal respect—although certainly not close to what they deserve, it's much more than what they had before vetinari made their guild a reality. but in the past, where vimes is now, the seamstresses don't have this level of security, and are subject to violence (although it is shown to be societal and legal violence [being arrested for working during their profession's peak, etc] rather than interpersonal or sexual violence [the agony aunts exist and, it is clearly stated, dispense the same justice that they do in the future, specifically to individual clients rather than to larger institutional structures]).

so, when vimes puts down rosie by making a disparaging joke about her profession—oh, you're actually not important to me or to men or to society at all; your labor is not to be respected; i got what i needed from you and will of course pay you, but in the most insulting way possible—he's not only communicating what society thinks, but a moral issue of the novel as well. night watch, after all, is about revolution: who gets to be in power, and who gets to control who gets to be in power? it's frankly revolutionary for pratchett, a mainstream english author, to treat sex workers and sex work as positively as he does (of course, his depictions are not without flaws). he makes it clear that, after all, shouldn't we view sex work as physical labor? isn't it true that anyone who is employed is engaging in physical labor? how is a seamstress really different from a "seamstress"? (it's the power dynamics and misogyny standard to western/european/american/christian society: women and sex must be controlled by the patriarchial majority, kept small and afraid and in chains.) pratchett legitimizes the seamstresses in vimes's present. in vetinari's ankh-morpork, the seamstresses have just as much power as the merchants, the armorers, the assassins—and vimes knows this, but he did grow up in the past he's in now.

in snuff, vimes's approaching anagnorisis is more obviously manifested. brilliantly, pratchett begins vimes's encounter with the goblins by talking about vimes's childhood teacher, mistress slightly, who "taught [him] how not to be afraid" and made him blackboard monitor, "the first time anyone had entrusted him with anything;" vimes thinks he'll put a bag of peppermints on her grave if he gets out of this alive. all positive, and in fact clearly transformative, praise from our hero. but vimes is in a goblin cave, and pratchett has brought up mistress slightly because vimes is remembering his first (educational, not physical) encounter with goblins. this paragraph is worth quoting in full:

"[Mistress Slightly] had one book in her tiny sitting room, and the first time she had given it to young Sam Vimes to read he had got as far as page seven when he froze. The page showed a goblin: the jolly goblin, according to the text. Was it laughing, was it scowling, was it hungry, was it about to bite your head off? Young Sam Vimes hadn't waited to find out and had spent the rest of the morning under a chair. These days he excused himself by remembering that most of the other kids felt the same way. When it came to the innocence of childhood, adults often got it wrong. In any case, she had sat him on her always slightly damp knee after class and made him really look at the goblin. It was made of lots of dots! Tiny dots, if you looked closely. The closer you looked at the goblin the more it wasn't there. Stare it down and it lost all its power to frighten. 'I hear that they are wretched, badly made mortals,' the dame had said sadly. 'Half-finished folk, or so I hear. It's only a blessing this one had something to be jolly about.'"

a near-perfect depiction, unfortunately, of the educational experience. encounter something that scares you and makes you uncomfortable, examine it with the help of a pedagogist, examine it on your own, take it apart so that you are not afraid anymore, and instead understand what it is and how it is made: that's the experience from the first word of the quote all the way until "Stare it down and lost all its power to frighten." and then, a heel-turn: your teacher shows that they completely misunderstood the lesson they were teaching—and that you, the child, understood both parts of the lesson perfectly: you absorbed the critical thinking skills and that this existing societal prejudice is, in fact, totally correct and should not be examined using the skills you just learned.

thus, pratchett has vimes, our hero, our moral center, spout the violent, ingrained, dehumanizing, incitement-to-genocide nonsense of the society in which he has been formed. vimes does this tiredly, without thinking, without making the connection between how things are and how they ought to be, missing the direct relationship of that required moral reevaluation to the case and situation at hand. and pratchett throws that directly back in vimes's face, physically. both times, pratchett says: even if you're tired, even if there's shit going down, even if your worldview is being turned upside down, even if you're in the dead middle of processing everything you've so recently learned, you cannot make the mistake of dehumanization/depersonalization. and you, of all people, have to know that, vimes. not one drop of alcohol passes your lips, not one minute after six goes by without you reading to your son, not one arrestee is subjected to even small or casual police brutality. and not one person—seamstress or goblin—is to be insulted and discriminated against and excluded from deserving to live. to do so, to make that mistake even once, is to face the immediate physical consequences of it from someone deeply and fundamentally in the know. you need the sense smacked into you.

from night watch:

"Consider that a sign of my complete lack of a sense of humor, will you?" said Rosie, shaking some life back into her hand.

"I'm... sorry," said Vimes. "I didn't mean to... I mean... look, thak you for everything. I mean it. But this is not being a good night."

"Yes, I can see that."

"It's worse than you think. Believe me."

"We all have our troubles. Believe me," said Rosie. /end quote.

from snuff:

It was a corker, nonetheless, and out of the corner of his stinging gaze he saw Feeny take a step back. At least the boy had some sense.

"You are the gods' own fool, Commander Vimes! No, I'm not teaching them to be fake humans, I'm teaching them how to be goblins, clever goblins! Do you know that they have only five names for colors? Even trolls have around sixty, and a lot more than that if they find a paint salesman! Does this mean goblins are stupid? No, they have a vast number of names for things that even poets haven't come up with, for things like the colors shift and change, the melting of one hue into another. They have single words for the most complicated of feelings; I know about two hundred of them, I think, and I'm sure there are a lot more! What you may think are grunts and growls and snarls are in fact carrying vast amounts of information! They're like an iceberg, commander: most of them is where you can't see or understand, and I'm teaching Tears of the Mushroom and some of her friends so that they may be able to speak to people like you, who think they are dumb. And do you know what, commander? There isn't much time! They're being slaughtered! It's not called that, of course, but slaughter is how it ends, because they're just dumb nuisances, you see. Why don't you ask Mr. Upshot what happened to the rest of the goblins three years ago, Commander Vimes?"

And with that, Miss Beedle turned on her heel and disappeared down into the darkness of the cave with Tears of the Mushroom bobbing along behind her, leaving Vimes to walk the last few yards out into the glorious light. /end quote.

#sam vimes #terry pratchett #original flavor #dw tag

[pix3lplays]

I'm menstruating and everything hurts, sillys Aventurine and Ratio because I'm still delulu

((I took myself as a reference, and that's why menstrual pains will be considered the most horrible thing in life, because for me, it's very horrible))

Aventurine, who has a horrible knowledge of the subject, with his best will offers you a herbal tea that is obviously not enough

Aventurine, who goes to Topaz for advice, even paying for it

Get sanitary pads, tampons, menstrual cups, medications, hot food, sweet food, spicy food, everything you may be craving Aventurine already has it in the kitchen

When he understands the issue, he offers you everything and a small heater so you won't be so sore

You can use his hands as a heater too, he is so worried and bewildered for the first time in a long time that he obeys your commands like a wet puppy

In summary, Aventurine doesn't understand anything, he is really confused and worried, following your orders fearing that you will feel more pain, because he hears too much that it is extremely painful

On the other hand... Ratio, My 💕Dear Veritas Ratio💕

I'm not going to lie to you, it gives me that aura that says "Don't exaggerate, menstrual pain is not common and it's not that painful." He regrets saying that after seeing you cry and shake in pain (I'm crying and shaking in pain right now 😿)

Once he understands that he cannot do that, he radically changes his attitude. Get everything you need for hygiene and your preference, although it still seems exaggerated, understand that it is a normal reaction to have certain cravings due to hormones and get the food

He doesn't use his hands as a heater like Aventurine did, but at night, he snuggles you carefully and kisses your forehead, he leaves his comments aside, he knows it's not a good time and he doesn't want to make you suffer

It's hard for him to be delicate, but once he understands that that moment really is horrible... And probably after having made you cry for a poorly thought out comment, he decides to remain silent.

It's really good, his constant comments are overwhelming in this situation, especially since Ratio doesn't believe that taking pills so frequently is good for your health

Next month you will have special pills created by him with vitamins included, but not this month, because he is not willing to let you slowly ruin your health for something that he can solve

He resolves, it costs him, but he does it. Gets everything from hygiene, food, environment, optimal temperature and will even let you cling to it like a koala

Summary both. Aventurine does not understand and will do everything for you. Ratio knows everything but he is too cocky, although he will put it aside for you

Imagine Aventurine making hot chocolate for you, she puts foam in it, you can snuggle against her warm body and her hands relieving cramps

Ratio lets you mess up his hair and accompanies you much longer, rearranging his schedule for you, giving you check-ups every once in a while and shaking your hand.

Yes I understand your pain, mine are pretty bad too😭

I hope the pain will pass for you soon-

But yeah, I do agree that Aventurine doesn’t really. Understand. But he does want to help, he doesn’t want you suffering…

Ratio of course knows how it works but doesn’t quite appreciate the pain you’re in at first. But he has a weakness for you, and will feel bad if he upsets you…he’ll learn the hard way to have a little sympathy. Also please consider…Veritas mansplaining menstrual pain. I feel like he would. Sigh.

I love them both, I would let either of them take care of me~

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Aventurine #Aventurine x reader #Hsr Aventurine x reader #honkai star rail Aventurine x reader #Dr Ratio #Dr Ratio x reader #Hsr Dr Ratio x reader #honkai star rail Dr Ratio x reader

[storiesforallfandoms]

spirit of nature ~ jack sparrow;pirates of the carribean

word count: 2716

request?: yes!

@lazuli-leenabride​

“Yay! Could you do Jack Sparrow with a water Nymph?

Maybe where his crew found them and thought they were a mermaid at first?

Please and thank you!! 🦋🦋💘”

description: in which they save a creature of the sea, and their captain takes interest in her

pairing: captain jack sparrow x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

Captain Jack Sparrow was not the type to ignore cries for help. Especially not when the cries sounded like they were coming from a woman in distress.

It was an otherwise calm day as sea when shrieks of fear broke through the otherwise silent sea. Jack quickly rushed to the bow with his telescope in hand. In the distance, he could see another ship sailing away from them while a figure that looked like a woman was thrashing in the water, what looked like a net wrapped around her making it hard for her to stay afloat.

“Prepare a rescue, men!” Jack announced. “We have a potential distressed captive dead ahead!”

His men quickly rushed to the side of the ship as they approached the still thrashing figure. One of them threw a rope into the water as they got closer and it landed just next to the distressed woman. She didn’t hesitate to reach out one of her arms - which the ship came to realize was partly bound to her - the best she could and hold on tightly as they began to raise her onto the ship.

Her entire body was bound and a net was thrown over her, now clinging to her as they pulled her in and laid her out on the deck. She was shivering and she had a fearful look in her eyes as she took in the crew of pirates standing around her.

Jack pushed to the front of the crowd to take a look at the woman. Through her bindings, he realized she was naked. He turned to Gibbs and commanded, “Get her something to cover up while we cut her free.”

“Jack,” Gibbs said, “she’s...she’s not human.”

When Jack looked back at the woman, he saw that Gibbs was right. Although the top half of her body was human, the bottom half seemed to be slowly turning from a tail to human legs. This woman was a creature of the sea - potentially a mermaid, which was one of the most dangerous thing a sailor could come across in the entire world.

But she was also scared. She was also tied up and thrown overboard. For what, Jack had no idea. It didn’t seem overly smart to try and drown her since she could breathe under water, but maybe having her tied up so that she couldn’t swim and instead would sink to the bottom and risk being attacked by other sea creatures.

Whether or not she was a mermaid was currently irrelevant. Right now what matter was helping her.

“Get her something to cove up,” Jack repeated. “Find her somewhere to stay that is away from the others.”

Gibbs seemed reluctant, but he did as Jack said. None of his other crewmates would dare to approach the woman, so Jack was the one who had to step up and set her free. When he took a step forward, she whimpered and tried to move away from him.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Jack assured her. “I’m going to get these bindings off of you. My first mate is getting clothes for you and finding a place for you to stay. But first, I have to cut this stuff off of you, okay?”

She looked at him with wide eyes, like she didn’t believe that he wasn’t going to hurt her, but eventually nodded anyways. Whatever he could do to her couldn’t be any worse than what the other ship had done.

Jack produced a knife from his belt and worked at the net first. She was so tangled in it that there was no way he could just pull her free without harming her. He cut away at the net until it fell around her. Next, he started cutting at the ropes that bound her arms to her body, and that bound her now formed human legs together. The rope left behind terrible rope burn that felt like a fire was set around the areas of her body that it had been tied. She wished to leap back into the water to try and cool the burn, but she was still so exhausted and in so much pain that she knew she needed rest for the night.

Jack positioned himself so that his men couldn’t take in the sight of the naked woman in front of them. He found it a struggle not to glance down at her body, so close to his, but he did his best as he waited for Gibbs to return.

“Who took you before?” he asked her in a hushed voice. “Who threw you into the sea like this?”

She just looked back at him, her eyes wide. He could see she was still afraid. There was no use in pushing her for details now, especially when they were so fresh in her mind. Eventually she would speak, or maybe she wouldn’t and she would just wish to be released back into the water once she was rested. Either way, Jack wasn’t going to push the topic if she wasn’t willing to speak.

Gibbs finally returned with a blanket to wrap around her. He told Jack he had a private area prepared for the woman to stay in along with clothes for her to change into when she was alone. He still looked skeptical of Jack’s decision, but he kept that to himself.

Jack wrapped the woman in the blanket and helped her to her feet. She was hesitant to follow him at first, but eventually gave in and allowed the pirate captain to show her to her room.

“May I ask your name?” he asked her once they had arrived.

In a soft voice she responded, “(Y/N).”

He nodded. “Welcome aboard then, (Y/N).”

~~~~~~

The crew were abuzz the entire night about their passenger. None of them would bring the issue up with Jack directly, not wanting to go against the orders of their captain.

Gibbs, however, had no problem bringing the crew’s issue to Jack.

“They don’t trust that woman,” he was saying to Jack. “They’re afraid she has put some sort of spell on you with her mermaid powers. They think she’s going to make you do something stupid like give her the ship.”

“Gibbs, have I ever done something stupid for the sake of a woman?”

Gibbs gave Jack a look and opened his mouth to respond, but Jack held up a hand to cut him off. “Don’t answer that. I understand everyone’s concern, but I truly do not believe that woman is a mermaid. Mermaids usually use their powers to entrance any many around them. If she was truly a mermaid, then she would have all of us under her spell, not just me.”

“Then how do you explain the tail?”

Jack shrugged. “A bad cause of scabbies, maybe.”

“Jack,” Gibbs sighed. “I can’t talk you out of something once your mind is set to it, and I know that, but I want you to truly think about this. That other ship may have tossed her over because she tried to entice them as well and they realized before it was too late. What if she tries to do the same to us?”

“Then you can rub it in my face that you were right. But until then, I want you to respect my decision and do as I say. And that goes for the entire crew. You got that?”

Gibbs nodded. Jack waved a hand to dismiss him and turned to the closed door to the room that held their visitor. He approached the door, intending to go in to check on the woman, but stopped short and instead, deciding to knock.

There was a moment of silence before a timid voice asked, “Who is there?”

“It’s the captain, Jack,” he said. “May I come in?”

Another moment of silence, broken by the sound of the lock on the door being pulled back. When the door didn’t open, Jack let himself in.

She was sat on the bed, now clothed. She had herself curled up as far away from Jack as she could get. He could see she was still trembling, but he knew this was from fear now as opposed to from the cold.

“I just wanted to check on you,” he said. “See how you were feeling.”

“I appreciate the private room, and the clothes that you have provided for me,” she responded. She wouldn’t look at him, opting instead to study the wall in front of her. “Once I regain my strength, I will be going.”

“If that’s what you wish, we shall leave you on whatever island you desire to go.”

She shook her head. “I can swim.”

“I should rather think you wouldn’t want to go back into the water after an attempted drowning.”

“You know I am not human,” she said. “I saw the way your crew looked at me. I saw my own tail when you pulled me on board. You must know that I will be more than fine to be released back into the water.”

Jack nodded. “Whatever you wish, (Y/N).”

When it became evident that she was not going to speak anymore, Jack turned to the door to leave. He had his hand on the doorknob when suddenly she shot up from the bed, reaching out to stop him from leaving. Her hand met his and he felt the ice cold feeling of her skin. She jumped away just as quickly as she touched him, almost as if a switch were flipped inside her.

“I want your word that you will let me go,” she said. Her voice was still low, but there was more force behind it now.

Jack raised an eyebrow at her. “Why would you trust the word of a pirate?”

“I don’t. I don’t trust the word of any man, actually. But I want to hear you say you will let me go so I can determine whether or not you are lying.”

Jack turned to fully face her. She almost shrunk away from him, but found her courage and stood up tall. Jack could still see the fear in her eyes when she looked at him, but he could also see that it was starting to melt away. She was becoming more confident, more courageous. Maybe not comfortable, but he doubted any woman, sea creature or not, would feel comfortable in the presence of a pirate captain.

“I, Captain Jack Sparrow, give you my word that when you wish to leave this ship, we will let you leave without a fight,” he told her.

“You will not harm me?” she asked.

“We will not harm you,” he confirmed.

She studied his face for a moment before turning away. “You seem honest.”

“What did the men on that other ship do to you?”

She tensed. “They wished to kill me. They tied me up so that I wouldn’t be able to free myself from the net or to swim away, and they threw me in with an anchored net so that I would sink to the bottom of the ocean.”

“Lucky for you they didn’t know you weren’t human.”

No response. (Y/N) climbed back onto her bed. She wouldn’t meet his eye again, but this time she looked down at her lap.

“They knew,” she whispered.

Jack sat at the foot of her bed. He made sure to keep a distance between them as to not startle her further. It seemed he was starting to earn her trust if she was willing to tell him even the slightest details of what the men on the other ship had tried to do to her.

“What are you?” he asked. “My men think you are a mermaid, but I think otherwise.”

An amused look crossed her face. “Why do you think that?”

“I have encountered mermaids before. If one was on our ship, she would not let the men fear her. You would have enchanted everyone on this ship to worship you the moment we saved you.”

(Y/N) made a face of disgust. “Those retched creatures have ruined us. They have left a horrid reputation for us Naiads who just wish to protect the water and all its creatures, and do not wish to engage with humans.”

“Naiads?”

“A water nymph,” (Y/N) explained. “That’s what I am. I do not wish to cause harm to humans, just to care for the creatures who live in water. We don’t even live in the ocean the way that mermaids do. We prefer bodies of fresh water, like rivers and streams. That’s how those men found me. I was in my home pond in the woods when those men came trampling through. They saw me there, just watching them peacefully, and they grabbed me. They though that I was a mermaid, and apparently one of their men had been killed by a mermaid. They wanted revenge.”

Something about the hurt and afraid expression on her face angered Jack. He hoped they would come across the terrible men who had hurt (Y/N) so he could take care of them himself.

“Did they harm you?” he asked.

She shook her head. “They wanted me to suffer. They locked me in a tiny cage with no food for days, they’d give me water occasionally but only by pouring it on me so that my tail would come out and they could jab at it. And then they tied me up and tossed me into the ocean hoping I would sink or be eaten. I’m lucky you and your crew were sailing the same waters, otherwise I may not be here now.”

“I’m glad we saved you.”

When (Y/N) looked up to meet his eye, Jack could’ve been convinced that she truly was a mermaid, because just looking into her eyes took his breath away. He was willing to go to the ends of the Earth to protect her if that’s what she wanted.

But then he realized it wasn’t that she was using some sort of power on him to make him feel this way. It was that he was finally seeing the real (Y/N). The one who wasn’t afraid of him, but the one who trusted him enough to confide her true identity to him. The one who felt enough trust that she was letting her walls down, and now that they were down he could finally see her true beauty.

“Do you still wish to leave so soon?” he found himself asking.

(Y/N) was studying his face again before shaking her head. “No. I feel safer here than I do in the water right now. Not while those bastards are still out there.”

“Whenever you are ready to go back to the water, we will take you somewhere secluded enough that you won’t have to worry about them. And we’ll be sure to protect the area, and you, whenever we are around.”

“But how will you remember where you have left me if it is as secluded as you promise?”

“Oh, I’ll remember.”

(Y/N) seemed to understand what he was inferring. She smiled at him; a small, beautiful smile that almost took Jack’s breath away. He couldn’t help but smile back at her.

Their moment was quickly interrupted by the sound of (Y/N)’s stomach growling. They looked at each other for a moment before beginning to laugh.

“Would you like something to eat?” he asked. “We don’t exactly have fine dining on board, but we have enough food to feed a new passenger for a while.”

“I’ll take anything. I’m starving,” she responded.

Jack stood again and started for the door. “Alright, I’ll be back with something in just a moment.”

“Bring something for yourself, too,” she told him. “Perhaps we can eat together.”

Jack nodded, a smile tugging at his lips again. When he left, he didn’t close the door behind him so that (Y/N) knew that he truly was not trying to lock her away the way her captors had. He was merely giving her the option of privacy if she so desired.

And when he returned, the door was open, a welcoming gesture of her inviting him back into her room.

#Jack Sparrow #jack sparrow imagine #jack sparrow x reader #Captain Jack Sparrow #johnny depp #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp x reader #pirates of the caribbean #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[demonic0angel]

God!Danny and Servant!Damian

Damian stared at the long hallway of various knickknacks and doohickeys. The ever-changing wallpaper was cracked and peeling, sticky with a green substance. Bizarrely shaped and decorated doors would occasionally peek out from the mountains of loot. The tables that lined the hallway were filled with books and books and many random objects. The hallway was illuminated with a combination of different things, candles and chandeliers and crackling TVs and lightbulbs lighting up the way. At the very end of the long hallway was a lone door, unmarked and conspicuous in its simplicity.

Once he walked through that door, he would be able to complete his wish.

Something to his side caught his eye. It was a small picture of a family, one with many unique characters.

It reminded Damian of his own.

It reminded him of his failures, his goals, and his desires.

Wiping away the liquid that welled in his eyes, he turned and glared at the door that seemed more and more like the light in the darkness as well as his own personal demise.

Damian grit his teeth and began to run.

————

It all started simply. It was an average day, a normal afternoon as Damian bickered with his siblings as always. He and Timothy were rubbing on each other's nerves, only instigated further by Jason who would gleefully laugh every now and then whenever he sparked the dying fire.

Dick sighed and said, "C'mon you two. Why can't you just get along?"

"It's  because Damian knows that Tim is better than him at detective work." Jason said.

"Shut up, Todd!" Damian said as Timothy made a strange expression of both smugness and also exasperation. Despite knowing that Jason was deliberately goading them on, they still fell for it and walked right into another heated argument.

Dick only sighed further as his little siblings argued like children. The door to the command room opened with Batman sweeping in, Stephanie following him with a little skip to her step.

"Heya, everyone!" She greeted cheerfully while Batman flew past them to inspect the controls.

All of them were in a spaceship commandeered by the batfamily in a mission to inspect a small alien planet that had recently pinged itself on their radar. It was a dangerous new colony that had an ability to steal the memories of those that they had killed and use it to conquer new planets.

The batclan was currently in a mission to investigate if the rumors were true and to find any weaknesses.

"Father?" Damian asked, as he noticed Batman's tense body language. "What is the matter?"

".... Orphan hasn't come back from her stealth mission."

A ripple of dread went through the room. Timothy immediately sat down on a seat and began to pull up mission records. They updated it regularly as they went, and Cassandra had logged in for her mission a few days ago, but now she was several hours past her expected return. This was a bad sign, especially since it was only a reconnaissance mission, with little to no conflict and even if there was, Cassandra would've contacted them.

Something had gone very, very wrong.

Stephanie whispered, "No... she couldn't have been."

Jason gave a snort, although it was weak and filled with false bravado. "There's no way. She's probably trying to find some new information for us. She's stronger than that."

No one said anything.

His attempt at gathering hope failed.

"... fuck." Jason said quietly, as the worst of what could've happened finally sank its claws into his mind.

Everyone was aware that this current mission was one with high stakes. The alien race they were investigating was a dangerous one, and unknown at that. Although they expected danger, they hadn’t expected one of their own to actually get hurt.

Batman shook his head, a hand reaching out to clasp Jason's shoulder. "We'll find her and then we'll help her." He reassured him softly. It said a lot that Jason didn't shake off his touch.

A stone sank in Damian's stomach.

This was his first mission in outer space and he loathed how vulnerable he felt. In an effort to hide it, Damian scoffed to himself and straightened.

They all lifted their heads in unison, however, when a crash rang through the ship. Their gut instincts had alerted them to the danger a second beforehand, but it was still too late.

The light flickered off, inciting another gasp of panic. They all put on their masks to switch on their night vision.

Batman immediately pulled out several batarangs and said, "Dick, with me! The rest of you, stay here and be careful. We'll investigate."

"Fuck!" Jason screamed, louder. "Why am I not coming?!"

"I need you to protect your siblings!" Batman said before he ran off with Dick in tow.

"Grayson!" Damian couldn't help but yell. "Father, shouldn’t we stick together instead?!”

He couldn’t help the worry that stuck to his voice.

Dick swerved back before he could leave the control room and immediately pulled Damian into a hug. "Little Bat," he said softly. "Stay here and protect Stephanie and Tim, okay? They need it."

Damian wanted to protest at his reassurances, almost indignant at the idea that he possibly needed comfort, but he didn’t say a word as Dick stroked his back. Timothy didn't speak up either, completely silent. Damian knew that he was also feeling some sense of immense dread, their survival instincts giving them a premonition of danger and death.

Damian tried to hold his brother closer, eyes wide before Dick pulled away, pulling on a false smile.

"Be careful!" He screamed and then he left.

"This isn't good, this isn't good." Tim muttered as he furiously tapped on the keyboard to figure out what was going on. Everything was down, even their systems and now they just waited in the darkness for a signal of safety.

Jason cursed under his breath. "I should've been with them!" He muttered.

Damian pushed down his nausea and said, "Then let's go. With the computers down, there is no reason for us to stay here when we could go out and help them."

"Fuck, I'm going." Jason pulled out his guns and immediately began to load them with bullets.

"Dammit." Tim cursed and Stephanie pulled out her own bo staff and looked determinedly at them.

"Let's go." She said, and they all followed her as she left first.

They ran through the halls to get to the sector where the explosion had supposedly started. The air seemed stale and dark, and a distant 'ooh'ing noise like wind going through a hole disturbed them greatly. Damian wished he had his swords, but all he had was a bo staff and a few batarangs to protect himself.

His eyes searched the darkness. Stephanie and Timothy were next to each other, their shoulders almost bumping against each other's for comfort, while Jason trailed a little behind Damian, guns out and ready. Damian reassured himself that his family was safe. Cassandra was surely just fine and so would his father and Richard be. They would be okay.

They would all be okay.

There was another crash right in front of them and Stephanie screamed. Jason immediately shot into the dark, the bright flash of a gunshot illuminating the hall for a moment, showing just who came through the wall.

A grotesque monster with bulging, writhing black tentacles stared at them before the light faded. Jason relentlessly shot his bullets, but they seemed useless.

There was a short scuffle before a disturbing squelching noise.

Timothy gave a long, loud keen before his body blocked Damian's vision.

The last thing that Damian saw before Timothy was pulling him away was Stephanie's fallen body, a deep blackness covering her that would shine crimson red.

They ran.

The moment Damian was able to reconnect with his thoughts and surroundings, he pulled his hand out of Timothy's and said, "Brown! She's still back there!"

"No!" Timothy snapped, his voice sounding wrecked. "We have to run. I saw her. She's not coming back."

Jason cursed violently and they quickly skidded into the next hall, shutting the sealed doors for a moment.

"Fuck. It's them. They found Cassandra and took her memories." Jason said and Damian choked on his fear and shock.

Timothy shuddered visibly and then said, "I think they got Stephanie too."

Damian grimaced, hurt shooting through his chest like a bullet wound before he gasped.

"Father! And Richard! They—They went ahead of us!" It was almost instantaneous how both Jason and Timothy paled.

Jason smacked his hands over his eyes. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!"

He took out his helmet and quickly put it on. "I'm going out. Maybe I can find them. Bruce is smart, he's probably still alive and I'll find them."

"You're not invincible, Todd." Damian snarled. "Let us come with you. If we die, we'll all die together."

"Like hell we will." Jason said curtly. "You little shits are gonna live because if another Robin dies, I'm...." He paused. He didn't know what to say.

None of them could find the words needed to comfort each other.

Damian's stomach dropped further into his feet, as if he was about to be sick.

Timothy reached out and grabbed onto Jason's sleeve. "Jason. You know it's a suicide mission. You can't go."

Jason reloaded his bullets and didn't say anything.

When he turned, Jason's helmet was still on his face as he stared at both Tim and Damian. Then he reached over to put a gloved hand on their heads and said, his voice crackling softly, "I gotta go, Robins. Protect each other. Be safe. I mean it."

His touch was heavy and warm, even through his glove. Damian stared at his akhi with wide, wet eyes.

Timothy screamed in shock and despair as Jason sealed that exit and then ran off. They heard the distant sounds of gunshots before they faded.

Timothy gasped for breath, tears flowing down his face but he quickly wiped them and then pulled on Damian's arms. "C'mon, Robin. It's up to us now. We have to get to the exit bay and hope that everyone else gets through this alive and back home."

No one voiced the fact that it would be near impossible.

As they ran, Timothy was furiously typing on his communicator. When they reached the ship bay, where extra spacecrafts were stationed and ready to fly, they found it blissfully empty.

Already suspicious, they snuck inside. Damian was almost irritated by the small gasps that left Timothy's throat but he understood, with the grief that seemed to eat through his stomach. After a moment, as they inched towards a spacecraft, Damian reached out to hold Timothy's hand and squeezed gently.

Timothy squeezed back and they both sped up to the spacecraft. They both worked together to open it up and get it ready for space travel when there was a distant roar.

Damian shuddered hard, goosebumps rising over his skin as he worked even faster, flicking on buttons and readying the controls and coordinates.

Timothy cursed and said, "Dammit. I can't message Earth."

Damian bit into his lip.

Nothing was going well. Where were their family?

Timothy handed Damian the communicator. For a moment, Damian just stared at it in confusion before he turned to Timothy with questioning eyes, his heart squeezing in his chest.

What was the meaning of this? Was Timothy possibly handing off their last chance of survival to him? For what reason?

"What is this for?" Damian snapped.

"Just hold it," Timothy said exhaustedly. "I need to go out and see if the exterior of the pod is functional for space travel. You stay here and stay inside while I go check outside."

"No! What if something happens and I am unable to stop it?" Damian said, his foot stomping once on the ground to emphasize his point.

Timothy didn't say anything as he started to walk down the ramp to the ground outside of the ship. Damian rushed forward to grab his hand and pull him back.

"Why must everyone sacrifice their lives?!" Damian shouted. "You don't need to do this! Let's just stick together!"

"Just shut up, Damian!"

"No! Let's leave now! I-I want to leave now!"

Timothy turned to him with a furious expression but whatever was on Damian's face made him pause. Then he pursed his lips together before pulling Damian in close.

They had never hugged before.

The closest they had ever been was whenever Damian lunged forward for a knife to Timothy's gut.

But this... this wasn't so bad. Damian's eyes burned with an urge to cry and he grabbed onto his brother's suit.

"We will be okay, Damian."

And just as he said that, he pushed Damian forward and through the aircraft as the aliens finally revealed themselves as well as the tentacle that now wiggled into Timothy's stomach.

It happened in an instant.

Damian couldn't even react as Timothy was impaled through his torso.

Blood spilled on the floor and through Timothy's mouth. Timothy coughed, more blood dripping down his chin. He inched forward as the tentacles seemed to pull him back. It was a slow thing, as Damian watched in frozen horror as Timothy moved towards him.

"Timothy!" He couldn't help but blurt it out. "You're going to be ripped in half, you imbecile!"

He took out a batarang, already formulating a plan to hopefully cut away the tentacle but then Timothy reached into his side pouch and took the access card out, slotting it into the card reader and smiling reassuringly at Damian as blood dripped from his lips and body.

"You'll be okay." He croaked, before a black blur shot out and impaled his skull, blood splattering over the doors as they quickly shut themselves.

The aircraft began to lift itself from the ground automatically as Damian screamed with rage and grief, his fist smacking into the door as he flew away. The last thing he saw before he sped off into space and back to earth was Timothy's limp body being dragged backwards.

Damian sank to his knees and didn't get up for a long time.

When he arrived back to Earth, it was useless.

Because Gotham was now gone.

————

Damian opened the door.

Inside was a wide, circular room with marble walls and floors. The ceiling was tall, and windows covered it, letting in golden light that lit up the room with an ethereal glow. In the middle of the room was a pool of water surrounding a tall tree on a little island.

Damian couldn't help the gulp of air that he took, rejuvenating him with a refreshing lightness like he was breathing in sunlight.

"Ah." A voice gasped softly. Damian whipped his head upwards and stared at a figure floating within the tree branches. "Hello."

This person wore white and black, their clothes all flowing around them. On their face was a deer skull, its horns stretching behind them as their white hair, strangely similar to Jason's unique white coloring, floated gently.

"Are you the God from the legends?" Damian asked, his voice sounding braver than he felt as the pressure of this being encased him.

"The legends? I suppose so. Do you have a wish, Damian al Ghul-Wayne?"

Damian flinched before his gaze hardened. "Yes. I would like to make a deal with you."

"I see." The god jumped off of the tree branch and floated in front of him. The air felt colder as they drifted closer to Damian. "What is your wish?"

"I want my family to live again."

The being paused. They tilted their head and then said, "Your family?"

"Yes." Damian paused and then clarified, "I want my entire family to be alive again. My father, all of my brothers, my sisters, my grandfather, and my extended family within Gotham."

"... a very big ask." The god murmured.

A chill rose within Damian and he said urgently, worried that his wish wouldn't be granted, "I am willing to do whatever it takes to have my wish granted. I can kill whoever you ask, I can offer my own body...! Anything, as long as my family is alive again."

The god tilted their head the other way. Then they said, "I see. Name your family."

Damian's breath hitched but before he did, he asked, "Will my wish be granted?"

"Yes."

Damian thrilled at that, before he paused. Then he asked carefully, "What is the price?"

The god turned to look at him. Their empty eye sockets, filled with a faint green glow, seemed to bore holes into his soul. "The price of the revival of your family is to sacrifice your life and eternity to me. You will offer your life, your death, and your eternity to me, for me to do whatever I wish."

Damian's breath stuttered. He paused, heart pounding as he debated with himself.

But who was he kidding?

There was no such question in the first place. Damian was not worth even an toe from his family. He wasn't even worth enough to even gaze upon their shoes.

Damian nodded firmly. "I agree to your deal. If I offer everything that I am to you, you will agree to revive my family as they once were?"

"They will be revived and reverted back to a time when they were once alive. They will be well and healthy, I assure you. With this deal, I can promise that they will live to old age."

Damian beamed. "Deal. My family's names are Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, and Timothy Drake."

The god seemed to give off an air of satisfaction. "Then, for the soul, eternity, and life and death of Damian al Ghul-Wayne, the aforementioned people will be revived and brought back to life."

They clapped their hands. "It's been done."

Damian couldn't tell if they were lying or not. Still, Damian was overjoyed at this piece of news. "Then... may I go see them?"

The god floated a bit in front of him. "No. You'll stay here, with me."

Damian paused, his stomach dropping and he wanted to smack himself for hoping. "I see. What will you have me do?"

Would they make Damian kill for them? Be a slave? Use his body? Would he have to sacrifice his body parts for them? Kidnap people? The possibilities were endless and although it made a bitter, sour taste go through his mouth, Damian did not dare complain.

The god seemed to be smiling as a broom appeared into existence in their hands. They handed it to Damian who grabbed it unsurely.

"Clean up."

————

And that was the beginning of how Damian became a servant of a lone God.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom x dc #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dp au #damian al ghul #damian wayne #danny is a god #dcxdp #dpxdc #platonic dead serious #tw violence

[charlottelie]

oh, lucifer?

chapter i. (or, selkie sees a snake) ✧･ﾟ

tags: reader uses she/her pronouns, fem!reader, reader is a trapeze artist, sinner!reader, reader works at lu lu world, no use of y/n, ducks galore

.

You hadn’t meant to. Your guiding philosophy in life and afterlife had always been ‘Ask for forgiveness, not permission’, and it seemed so sound a maxim that you were usually slightly bemused when you found yourself in the unfortunate position of actually having to ask for forgiveness. Upon your arrival in Hell you had thought, Well, I certainly didn’t mean to end up here. Upon your arrival in Lu Lu World you had thought, Well, I wouldn’t say I exactly intended to join a Hadean circus. You hadn’t meant for either of these moral catastrophes to come about—that is, your sending yourself to the Other Place and your working at a fairground—but, despite all your good intentions, here you were. Rotten luck. 

You also hadn’t meant to be late for your act again, but here you were, late as always. You dusted your hands with chalk, briskly clapping them more out of habit than anything else as you examined your makeup in a misty mirror someone had propped up outside the dressing rooms. A poster on the wall, framed by peeling paint, announced your act in proud block capitals: Selkie, the Flying Seal! They had put you right before the interval. Did that make you the star performer? Third-best, at any rate: best were the acrobats, Belladonna and the Bedbugs, the grand finale, and second-best was Sunny’s balancing act, which opened the show. You could hear someone approaching, and fast. Your boss, no doubt, come to gently encourage you to get the fuck onto the stage. 

You looked at him mildly: Didier, who insisted it was pronounced ‘Didi-AIR’, tall, half-imposing, mostly composed, rarely generous, currently furious beyond belief. 

“Selkie! Where the fuck have you been? You’re on in thirty seconds! Ten, nine, eight—” 

You liked to think of him as sort of a lost soul, someone you’d taken under your wing, although, of course, he had been the one to take pity on you and hire you in the first place, and, of course, it was your soul that was on the line. “I’m sorry, Didi-yur,” you said quietly, and he scoffed. As you watched him thoughtfully, compassionately, he grabbed you by the shoulders and half-pushed, half-led you onto the platform—surely a textbook case of abuse in the workplace, if you weren’t in Hell—and you gave him a final glance of serene benevolence before, at his command, you whipped around, stepped into the blazing golden lights of the great circus tent, waved to the crowd, flashed a smile, and leapt from the platform into the open space before you. 

The breathless silence. The hot dusty air. The rush in your stomach like an oncoming wave before you lightly caught the bar another performer had flung towards you, adjusted your grip, and neatly somersaulted to another swing. Here a half-turn, here a straddle whip, and here, at the very peak of the motion of the trapeze, you let go, and hung impossibly in the air for a second before you plummeted, as you were wont to do, and were caught by another trapeze artist. Of course the dizzying leaps and the melodramatic plunges were part of the act. You knew the movements, the swings and the sways and the somersaults; you were, admittedly, at home here. The onlookers roared in delight; your heart, admittedly, soared. But as you spun, leant back, shifted your weight, glanced at the audience, you noticed, about three rows from the front, an unprecedented, unsolicited, indeed undesirable arrival: the strangest demon you had ever met. Or, at least, the strangest demon in the past three days. 

The fine kettle of fish was this. Belladonna, Sunny, Pell-Mell, the clowns, the knife-throwers, the knife-throwees, even the Bedbugs, bless their hearts, had all signed their souls over to Didier. He had expected the same of you when you had been given the job. But you, unused to asking, used to getting, were not prepared to quite merrily hand over the one thing that had guaranteed your continued existence to a man in a slim red tie. And so you had taken on a different sort of contract—which could have been hot, but, regrettably, Didier was not inclined to make such exchanges. You were simply paid far less than what you needed. That was all. The prosaic truth. He had you under contract, but nothing so poetic as a soul-binding one. You simply sewed your own costumes, went without breakfast. You scrounged around for whatever you could whenever you could. You had taken up residence in a formerly-disused caravan with the structural integrity of a multivitamin capsule. 

You had found there was little glory in starving, little romance. It was the banality of it that struck you, when you sighed weakly after your taps wouldn’t turn on, or Didi cut off your electricity, or you found you would have to choose between food and heating. It was the endless rolling of the cold and empty days that you suspected would grind you down in the end. But of course they were punctuated by your dazzling nights, your whirling wheeling flights through the grandly lit top tent that drew so many to Lu Lu World. And of course you were resourceful. 

In your life you had always been willing to bend the rules. In your death you were no different. You had the right kind of mind for business, and your business was, up there and down here, remarkably effective. Any con, put-on, cutup, cantrip, flimflam, ramp or scam anyone could think of, you’d done it. You once stole a woman’s shoes and sold them to her husband’s mistress for twice the retail price. Double-joke was on her, because purple was not her color. Only yesterday you had sold a sweet-looking sinner an ‘astral lightning rod’ meant to attract ‘negative interdimensional frequencies’ and channel them into their neighbors’ houses. The lightning rod in question was a refashioned rake you had found in the bins outside the gift shop. To put it plainly, as it were, if it had to be said, you were a, quote-unquote, ‘scammer’, though you and yours would never call it that. You hadn’t meant to end up in this trade, after all. You would like to think you had an entrepreneurial mindset. 

This entrepreneurial mindset had landed you in a stall (without a permit, obviously) in the Lu Lu World food court, having donned a wig and taken on the persona of a charming Texan aunt. Here you sold separately heart-shaped chocolates you had bought in bulk, meticulously unwrapped, and meticulously re-wrapped in shiny pink paper, to whichever passing demons or sinners appeared lonely or gullible or both. You told them all these chocolates, if consumed, would make anyone fall in love with them. To a pale imp in a band T-shirt you had sold three for five times what you’d paid for a box of eight; to a fishlike sinner whose disinterested girlfriend had abandoned him for the fairyfloss stall you sold five at, you told him, fifty percent off (which was three times the usual price). They had told their friends; their friends had flocked to your stall; soon afterwards, your original buyers had come back for more. But now there was a lull in business, as there usually was at this time of the afternoon. So when you noticed a duck demon – literally, a demon the size and shape of a duck, albeit a cartoonishly cute one – with an odd gait and a faraway look in his eyes, you were thrilled to have once again hit the jackpot.

You called him over excitedly. “Hey there, friend, what’s got you looking so glum?” That caught his attention. Hook. “You know, I see all sorts of people come through here. But ain’t none of them got such a positively chap-fallen look on their faces—not to insult you, gorgeous.” He was watching you with wary curiosity. Line. “Come on. Don’t you wanna tell old Mrs. Appleby all about it?” Sinker. 

“You’re not married,” he said. Sinker? That was strange. 

“What?”

“You’re not married. You’re not wearing a wedding ring.” Was he one of those? A flirt? Read: creep? Those were often easier to sell to. 

You pointed at your sign. Mrs. Appleby’s Apple-licious Treats. “Mrs. Appleby. That all that ambiguous?” you said, which won you a small smile from this bizarrely fluffy, bizarrely yellow duck. He flew surprisingly gracefully (you, the Flying Seal, knew what made a graceful flight) towards your stall, perching on the countertop just in front of your merchandise. And as he did so, you felt a dull crackle of power in the air, but, habitually incautious, you ignored it. Perhaps an Overlord-adjacent was taking a piss behind the neighboring food truck. Something like that. 

“It’s just heart-shaped candy,” he said. Usually demons looked like they’d just crawled out of a monsoon drain. Not this duck. He looked like a dapper gift-shop-plushie, the kind that comes with a sweet tag with their inevitably adorable name, written beneath it, Please look after this [relevant animal]! 

“Just heart-shaped candy? Why, this is the best heart-shaped candy you’ve ever had the good fortune to feast your eyes upon! ‘Why is that, Mrs. Appleby?’ Why, I’ll tell ya!” He seemed to be enjoying himself, not least because he hadn’t left. “This chocolate is magic!” That earned you another smile. 

“Really? Is that so?”

“Sure is. Straight from my distant uncle Asmodeus. Just eat one, wait three hours, and you’ll be feeling sprightly as a spring lamb. Two’ll have all the hens—or the men, don’t look so dejected, whatever you prefer—running after you like you’re catnip and they’re a litter of kittens.”

“Hold on now. You’re trying to sell me chocolate…chocolate-ified love potions? Love potion-ified chocolate? Love-ified—” 

You waved a hand at him in pleasant dismissal. “Now, don’t you overthink it, honey. I just saw you needed a helping hand and Auntie Appleby thought she’d take a”—you surprised even yourself with this one—“quack at it.” For a glorious moment he struggled between delight and disappointment. Then he laughed, genuinely, and smiled at you with something like satisfaction.

“Two’ll make me catnip. What’ll three do?”

You paused, then shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, I ate three, and look at me now.” 

And after that it really had been sinker, and you’d sold him a box of ten and wrapped it up in pink parchment and given it to him in a pretty heart-shaped bag with added glitter. You wondered if he’d realized he was being fleeced. There was an air of irony about the way he treated you, but you were pleased to play along. A sale was a sale.

Naturally, though, you tried not to encounter people you’d sold something to after you’d sold it to them. You’d been a little careless today, telling them to wait only three hours. You’d thought that’d be enough to get them out of the grounds, but this duck was persistent. As usual, you hadn’t meant for this to happen. He still had his heart-shaped bag. He was sitting smugly in a seat far too large for him. Did he recognise you? Could he recognise you? The Flying Seal was a far cry from homely Mrs. Appleby. It could have been a coincidence. Perhaps he just liked the circus. It wasn’t strictly unusual to re-encounter your customers. But he was watching you intently, you realized, before you had to maneuver yourself into the arms of your closest friend in the circus, your counterpart, Pell-Mell, the Soaring Fiddler. And then, still incautious, you let the strange duck slip from your mind, and flung yourself from the catchbar again. 

Lucifer had decided to visit Lu Lu World less out of curiosity and more out of boredom and a vague sense of duty. It was, after all, his theme park. He’d been reckless, coming as a duck, but who’d guess this out-of-place, out-of-sorts waterfowl was the Lightbringer himself? Besides, he’d wanted to watch the circus. He hadn’t quite known what to expect. Perhaps he’d expected to be disappointed. 

But now he watched you in what seemed your most natural state. Flying, entertaining. Even without the wig and the bizarre Texan accent he recognised you (he, of all people, knew what made a good trick, a good show). He saw how you fed on the crowd’s cheers like they kept you alive. It was miraculously complex and miraculously simple. You were happy they were happy. He watched you as you rose and dove through the air as your namesake might through water—easily, happily, unembarrassed—and the lights, your smile, the spectacle, recalled to him, dimly, as if seen through rain, something he had felt a long time ago. 

You landed delicately on the platform opposite the one you had arrived from. “Selkie, the Flying Seal!” the ringmaster declared triumphantly. You winked mischievously at the audience. Did you realize they were thrilled with you? Could you realize it? Did the whole performance require a level of obliviousness? You caught the outstretched hand of your fellow performer, a small, slender girl sporting a glossy bob, and lifted her onto the platform. The two of you gave a final bow, and you, beaming, looked not down at the audience but up at the distant lights. 

Lucifer decided half-consciously that he ought to come back.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #hazbin x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin imagine #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer #lucifer morningstar

[alcoholfreenayeon]

Could you do a Twice HC with their kinks? ~

Nayeon

Nayeon is fairly kinky. She’s more or less open minded about trying out things.

She’s also a bit of an exhibitionist. She’s the eldest of the group, the members especially the younger ones look up to her and respect her. Yet the thought of them watching or walking in while she’s doing the deed with her partner just seems to her turn on. It makes her feel really naughty.

Praise and Degradation kink. Whether you treat her with love and tenderness, praising her actions and responses or if you treat her roughly, letting her know just how much of a slut she is for you and only you it doesn’t matter. This girl will feel extremely turned on in both scenarios. Moreover, she also is really vocal towards you and will also often praise or degrade you depending on the situation or what you like.

She likes role playing, teacher-student, any concept with royalty and even other ideas such as boss-employee. Although the sexual tension between her and her partner often disappears as Nayeon ends up laughing in the middle of acting it out.

While it’s fairly common to perceive Nayeon as a switch or even a sub, she can be unexpectedly commanding at times. It’s not unusual for her partner hoping for some sexy time to end up being ordered to eat her out till she passes out.

Jeongyeon

Saying Jeongyeon is vanilla would just be wrong. Is she the kinkiest person in twice? Well, no….but in fairness to her she is facing quite a lot of competition and the standard is fairly high so while it may seem that she’s much more tame than some of her fellow members, you’d be quite surprised by what this girl is capable of.

While she is quite open minded her kinks don’t really go in any extreme direction. Like a jack of all trades, she’s fine with most things and catches on fairly quickly but has no interests that are extreme or niche.

Her favorite scenario while role playing is of a Police officer catching someone for speeding. She generally likes to be the officer but also doesn’t mind being the offender.

Although she’s definitely the dominant one especially in the bedroom, she’s more of a soft top, happy to let the her partner’s interests and kinks take priority.

Momo

Momo will give you the whole deal, she’s hot. She’s confident. She’s also quite kinky. And she knows it. In fact, she’ll give you a list of exactly what she wants to do to you or you to her if it means she gets to have her desires fulfilled and experience euphoria.

Choking is something she’s really into, when she’s on top don’t be surprised if you end up feeling her hands around your neck while sensually whispering something that will send chill down your spine because whatever she said, you want it. You need it. Simply because she knows you and your kinks just as well as you hers.

Momo is really into lingeries, she’ll often end up surprising you with different ones either of you like. She also likes it if you dress up into something she finds sexy as well. Although you hesitate with it since she more often than not ends up ripping off your clothes despite your complaints. She then points out that you never seem to have a problem with it in the moment to which you have no reply.

Occasionally she is up for some BDSM but due to her busy schedule it’s not a common occurrence mainly down to her preference of BDSM being something that requires a good amount of time and effort which she cannot afford frequently.

Sana

Sana is the wolf in sheep’s clothing. Everyone wants her. Everyone desires her. But no one really knows who she actually is. You see, Sana knows how desired she is and she absolutely loves it. She thrives off it. But she’ll never let you know that.

She’ll lure you in slowly, make you think or rather believe that the her kinks are very similar to yours and the two of you are extremely compatible. And perhaps that is true to an extent. After all, she is very open minded.

However her true kink isn’t anything that she’d lead you to believe, her real kink in having power. Power over you specifically. She’ll lure you in and keep you enchanted without you ever realizing it.

Now all that really matters for you is Sana and she’s so happy that you love her so much.

Jihyo

Jihyo in bed has a similar demeanor to her on stage, confident, excited, and in command. This girl has been leading by example for the longest time and is the same in the bedroom. She’ll leave you on the floor, gasping and panting helplessly while seeing stars, feeling utterly exhausted and used. Yet, to Jihyo that’s just another day.

Like a good leader(or mommy), she doesn’t hesitate towards your wants and needs. Unsurprisingly it frequently involves playing with her boobs, which she is more than happy to oblige with since secretly she has a breast play kink and loves it when asked to play with them. She’d never admit it of course.

Jihyo also has a breeding kink, which her partner eventually understands why after seeing her during sex when she is in a feral and primal state. While her partner might get worried at times, she always reassures them that it’s fine or teases them that she is ready to be a parent.

Occasionally she yields and let’s her partner take the lead if they wish. But beware, she won’t let you rest until she feels satisfied when she subs and failing to live up to her expectations will result in her taking charge again and using you til she feels sated and could also possibly be much more rough than usual.

Mina

Mina is really into all the aspects of BDSM. Whether it is being tied up or tying up her partner. Being dominated or dominating her partner. Being sadistic or masochist she is up for it all. The dual aspect of her in bed is quite reflective of whether she is feeling more Mina or Sharon.

She is into erotic asphyxiation, basically choking. She likes doing it to her partner especially when she’s on top. Hearing them whimper and breathless really turns her on. She also is very demanding and cold when she’s being dominant, expecting every word of what she orders her partner to be obeyed

When she’s the bottom, she likes being spanked but generally goes along with what her partner wants.

Mina prefers sex to be rough and intense. Being lost in the moment turns her on. She often daydreams after naughty things she could do to her partner. She’s excellent in giving after care and never seems to be tired after sex.

Dahyun

The charismatic, cheerful and the oldest amongst the maknae. Little do you know, she wants to be degraded mercilessly.

While you dominate this girl, she’ll want you to make full use of her flexible body. She also has a daddy kink.

Dahyun is also into getting her hair pulled. This pair’s extremely well with her other kinks like being degraded.

Dahyun while generally is a sub, she prefers to be dominant when role playing. She does her part surprisingly well as the dominant one and results in you teasing her with how serious she becomes while role playing

Chaeyoung

Chaeyoung is, much to her partner’s surprise a power bottom. While she may seem all flustered, Chaeyoung actually planned for it to be that way. She’ll leave hickey marks all over her partner. Despite her calm demeanor, she becomes really possessive during sex and wants 100% of her partner’s attention.

Even though she has an excellent sense of fashion, Chaeyoung prefers her partner to be the one who dresses up. She loves the effort that’s been put up for her.

She is into wax play and does it really well. Inspite of her partner’s obvious nervousness, Chaeyoung manages to make it an extremely sensual and satisfying experience.

Orgasm control is something that Chaeyoung frequently does. Hearing you plead and beg for release really pushes her buttons.

Tzuyu

Tzuyu is a sub at first but eventually becomes more of a switch with her partner. She has a huge praise kink. Given her naturally cautious and somewhat shy personality it makes sense. Being praised during intimacy makes her feel closer with her partner and makes it easier for her to open up to them.

Although Tzuyu would rather she died before anyone other than her partner found out, she is into a bit of exhibitionism. She thinks it sets a good change of pace. The first time it happened she ended up blushing uncontrollably and backing out cause she got too nervous.

She likes to dress up for her partner and is open to role play. She endlessly teased you when you wanted Tzuyu to roleplay as a character from a show you liked.

Every now and then Tzuyu shows you her dominant side and takes complete control, doing all the work. You’d NEVER admit it but hearing Tzuyu speak such a commanding tone makes you feel somewhat weak.

#twice #kpop headcanons #twice headcanons #twice smut #nayeon smut #jeongyeon smut #momo smut #sana smut #jihyo smut #mina smut #dahyun smut #chaeyoung smut #tzuyu smut #gg smut #kpop scenarios #reader x idol #twice imagines #kpop gg

[atinylittlepain]

Part Two

no outbreak!joel miller x f!oc

series playlist

joel miller masterlist

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She's tired. He's tired. They're neurotic. They're in love. Something needs to change. They need to change.

word count | 5.1k

chapter content info | 18+ little angst, couples counseling, just two tired people trying to figure out the tangle of their relationship together

a/n | part two is here, and i'd just like to say thank you to everyone being so kind about the first part - i know this isnt the usual peepaw fare, so thanks for giving her a chance - and also big thank you to @wannab-urs for beta-ing this bad boy <3

............................................

This is not a failure. She is not failing. They are not failing. Every Thursday at four o’clock she shuts her laptop and locks her office and stops in the bathroom at work, silently repeats these things to herself in her mind while she rubs her fingers at smudged mascara in the bathroom mirror. Like a mantra, though she’s not sure she’s fully bought into it yet. Because the truth is, she has had plenty of conversations with plenty of girlfriends that, really, they shouldn’t have been having about other girlfriends, not in the room with us girlfriends who, did you hear, started going to therapy and, did you hear, started going to therapy with their, oh no, husbands. Yes, she has been the bitch who has made jokes about death knells and a marriage’s last gasp for breath, jokes about the husband having the emotional range of a goldfish, and the wife being so up the husband’s ass she should give him a colonoscopy while she’s at it. She’s not really making jokes like those anymore. 

She’s not supposed to be doing what she’s doing this Thursday at four o’clock. When they first went to Vicky (LMFT, for the record) her fundamental decree had been a period of full separation. Sixteen years, she had asked, and they had nodded, and she had said whoa boy, yeah, y’all need to back off each other before we do anything else. If Paula Dean had a penchant for self-help instead of butter, she’d be something like Vicky. And so, with all the care of a drill sergeant delivering commands, or a mechanic running a diagnostic on a fucked-up car, Vicky had told them how this is going to go. An apartment, she said, don’t care which one of you lives in it. Minimal contact between sessions, right, keep it civil, right, this isn’t for forever, right. So Joel got an apartment, and Tommy helped him move all the furniture in the basement with admittedly minimal, but still present, wariness, and for the last four weeks they’ve been doing everything their beloved herr-therapist tells them. She supposes it’s working, although you can’t really do much fighting when you only see the other person for ninety minutes every Thursday so, the results might be confounded, actually.

“Hey there.” Hey there? What the fuck, what the actual fuck. He doesn’t think he’s ever said those words to her, ever, maybe not to anyone actually. He feels a little insane, a little itchy under the skin, mouth full of cotton, brain too, because they’re not supposed to be doing this, not really. The first time she’s seen the apartment, or, well, the doorway of the apartment, doesn’t really seem interested in stepping further inside, running her curled palm up and down the strap of her purse and right, not here for that. He shuts the door behind him and then they’re on their way to therapy because it’s four o’clock on Thursday and this is what they do now at four o’clock on Thursday.

“Thanks again. I didn’t think my car would still be in the shop today.”

“Oh of course, you said it’s a transmission leak?” 

“Yeah, the bad, expensive kind that’s above my paygrade. Guy said they’re still waiting on a part for it.”

“Well I’m off work tomorrow if you need a ride anywhere.”

“Vicky’ll get pissed.”

“If she finds out. Are you gonna tell on me to Vicky?” It’s a joke, they can joke, right? She laughs a little on the end of her words to make it clear, hey, it’s a joke, awkward and out of touch and unsure of what the rules are. But he offers a breath of a laugh, at least, fine, it’s fine, they’re fine, and now they’re silent driving to Vicky’s office. 

Should he ask her how her week has been? If the kitchen sink is still leaking? He’s not sure. Not sure about any of it, really. Every week, Vicky asks them how they think they’re doing and Cass doesn’t even hesitate. Good, she says. Not fine, not okay, but good, usually with a sure, terse nod. It takes him a little longer to find the right word to describe how he’s doing. Not sure about that either, but it’s definitely not good. Some things are better, sure, easier not to argue when under foot, easier not to remember all the ghosts they’ve built up around themselves. But at the most basic level, he misses her, even misses arguing with her, in a perpetual state of missing something, walking around and wondering if he left his wallet at home, or if he remembered to call a client about a new build, wondering if he’s missing something essential, a limb or an organ he didn’t know about. No, none of that. Missing something else.

“You’re not wearing your ring.” She flexes her left hand over the steering wheel in response, her very bare ring finger making him feel a quick pinch of something he’ll call anger, though it’s probably something else entirely. 

“No, Vicky advised I try not wearing it during the separation.”

“Why the fuck would she tell you to do that?”

“Joel.”

“I’m just asking.”

“You’re swearing.”

“Well, why didn’t she say the same thing to me?”

“Maybe because I told her this is how you would react.”

“I think I’m having a pretty normal reaction to it, actually.”

“It’s not a big deal. It’s just for now.”

“Right.”

“It is.” 

“Seems like a strange thing to advise someone to do when they’ve been married for nearly two decades.” She parks outside of the office complex that Vicky works in, lets out a long sigh through her nose and doesn’t spare him a glance as she reaches around to the backseat and pulls her purse up front, producing her ring from somewhere deep inside of it and sliding it back on her finger. 

“There, are you happy now?”

“Why the hell were you keeping it in your purse?”

“Oh my god, really?”

“That’s a real easy way to lose it is all I’m saying.” The truth is, she’s been keeping it in her purse in order to have easy access to it. Like a pulsepoint, sometimes she just needs to know it’s there, reaching into her purse underneath her desk and yep, still there, still okay. Sometimes she doesn’t get through a whole day without putting it back on. Like reflex, like ghost limb aching. But she’s not about to tell him that.

“Do not bring this up with Vicky.”

“Why not?”

“Because then she’ll know we drove here together.”

“You’re that worried about what Vicky thinks?”

“She’s our therapist, I’m a healthy and appropriate amount worried about what Vicky thinks.” 

“You know she’s not the arbiter of marriage just because she has a couple of degrees, right?”

“Really, the arbiter of marriage?” 

“Are you doing that thing you do, is that what this is?”

“What thing?” 

“Cass.”

“What thing?”

“Are you trying to win therapy?” Fuck him. No, really, fuck him. He’s doing that thing, his thing to her thing, half a smile in the passenger’s seat like he’s got her. Awful, of course he’s got her, smug and sure in his getting her. She doesn’t answer his question, knowing that her silence is an answer in and of itself and not really caring because they have therapy, damn it, and it’s going to be his fault if they’re late to therapy, damn it.

“You know, I’m starting to see why Vicky told us no carpooling to sessions.” Slammed shut, he sighs when she gets out of the car, thinking idly to himself that yes, he doesn’t necessarily disagree with that commandment of their therapist either. At the very least, Cass’ ring is still on her finger. He tried a few times in the past to get her something new, something nicer than the gold band he had given her when they were still young and still not able to afford much of anything, but sure enough in each other to want to keep doing it, all of it, together. No, she would tell him, doesn’t want anything other than the gold band. What she doesn’t know is that he pawned his grandfather’s watch and an electric saw for the ring the shop owner kept in a padlocked display case. Twenty-six years old, and looking back, he thinks he would have sold a whole lot more just to get it for her. 

He used to call her pearl. Something about grit that would make her roll her eyes and ask him what late night National Geographic TV special he got that line from, all the while inwardly swooning because sure, she had been baby before, babe, an errant sweetheart even, but pearl was new, and tooth-decayingly sweet. And when he proposed, Sarah bouncing around them like a manic cupid, Cassandra made an ugly sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry, little black velvet box and a ring that was more signet than wedding, simple and gold and a single pearl set in the center of it. Her hands clasped, she runs the pad of her finger over her ring, wordless and worrying it on the elevator ride up to Vicky’s office. 

Vicky has a thing for lamps and art prints of naked women. Her waiting room is a little dim, no windows, green velveteen loveseat and two high-backed wooden chairs that they always take when they get here, his eyes scanning over the coffee table laden with back-ordered Psychology Today magazines, headlines about overcoming anxiety and exercising your way out of depression. There had been one about postpartum  depression somewhere in the pile the last time they came, but he had made a point of hanging back after Cass left, some excuse about checking an insurance thing with Vicky, though what he really did was pluck out that magazine and throw it away in the men’s restroom down the hall. One less thing to worry about, at the least. 

“Hi, you two, come on back.” The sessions always start the same. Vicky asks them how they think the week went, and they both offer up some iteration of fine. Vicky asks them if they’ve been upholding their phase of separation, and she answers before Joel can, pointedly not looking at him, yes, no contact between sessions. But apparently, this week is going to be different.

“We are nearing the end of the total separation phase. After this initial period of cooling off for both of you, the real work can begin.” Right, phases, because Vicky works in phases like this is some sort of military siege. He tries not to roll his eyes at the real work beginning. 

“Can either of you remember the last date you went on together?” 

“It would’ve been in August, right before the separation.” Cass scoffs at his answer, tilt of her head like, really?

“Tommy and Maria’s baby shower hardly counts as a date. But we did go to dinner at the end of July.”

“I don’t think your work banquet counts either.” Vicky hits them with that look, that yeah, that’s what I thought look, all raised brow and scrunched nose and nodding. Not that she is, but if she, hypothetically, were trying to win therapy, Cassandra thinks she wouldn’t be doing a great job of it right now.

“Right, well, you’ve made my point for me. It’s not unusual for people who have been together for as long as you two have to let things like this fall to the wayside. However, it can be very helpful to reestablish some of these routines. Think of it as marriage maintenance.” 

“So you want us to start going on dates again?” 

“Yes, but not with each other.” Did she? Did he? Hear that right? Cass is nodding like it’s the most reasonable thing in the world, like, yes, of course, this is just the solution they’ve been looking for. This time, he doesn’t hold back a laugh.

“I’m sorry, what?” Both of them look at him like, yes, keep up, please, let us explain this to you very slowly so you can keep up, please. Something about seeing what life is like outside of their marriage, testing the waters, seeing if they still like the same things without their extra marital limb, something about making a decision about their marriage, though he tunes most of that part out because, no, thanks, no new decision has been needed since he got down on one knee during that trip to Galveston, sunscreen and sticky sweet and he’s not sure if he or Sarah was more excited, but he was definitely more nervous. And Cass said yes, and then he wasn’t nervous anymore, not scared anymore, and that’s all there was to it, is to it, right? Right. 

“This is the closing exercise of the total separation phase. It’s really important that you both have this opportunity to see what it’s like to be back in the dating pool. Think of it as a trial run of if you decide to make this separation–”

“No, no thanks. That’s not– we’re not those people, so, you know, we can just move onto the next phase.” 

“Joel.” The mom voice of all things, and he knows for certain now that Cass is trying to win therapy, nudging her shoe into the side of his, and, come on, really? She’s really bought that hard into what Vicky’s selling? Now that, that isn’t like her, at all. 

“What feelings are coming up for you right now, Joel?” She fucking hates that question, and she imagines that he does too, fingers drumming on his knee, long sigh, and she knows that look, that’s his getting ready to bolt look. Big man, big, skittish man who has accidentally nailed his fingers to house frames and hardly shed a tear. But feelings? Yeah, forget it. 

“Uh, I guess I’m confused as to why that is so important for us to do. We came here to help our– to help us, not to create more problems.”

“And you think that if you and Cassandra went on dates, one date, with other people, that it would create more problems in your marriage?” Well, it’s hardly rocket science, Vicky, though judging by the way she’s speaking to him, he’s pretty sure he failed some kind of test of hers. He doesn’t particularly care.

“I imagine it’d do that to anyone’s marriage.” 

“It’s just one date, it’s a part of the process.” She’s starting to get pissed, and trying very hard not to show it in front of Vicky should she get the what feelings are coming up for you treatment. When they agreed to start going to therapy, like a pair of dogs gagging down a pill, they had both agreed to put their full effort into it, and if Vicky wasn’t in the room with them currently, Cassandra would sharply remind him of that agreement. 

“Maybe I should clarify the expectations around this exercise. It’s one date, preferably with people outside of your shared social circle, and it would be best if the focus is just on the date, no sexual relations.”

“Oh really, you think that’d be best?”

“Joel.” He gives her a slack and slanted look, speaking two different languages, apparently. And really, she doesn’t see what the big deal is. One date versus sixteen years is pretty obvious math for her to square up, though it doesn’t seem to be for him. But, watching him engage in psychological tennis with Vicky, some new jab dripping in sarcasm for every reassurance she tries to offer him, the realization comes to Cassandra slowly, simply. Joel is scared. 

By the time they leave Vicky’s office, he feels deflated, defeated, because yes, they are, apparently, going to do this fucking exercise that fucking Vicky has fucking assigned to them, scheduled in three weeks instead of one to give them time to do this fucking exercise that fucking Vicky has fucking assigned to them. 

“Can’t we just, you know, say we did it but not actually do it?” 

“Are you serious right now?” Judging by the look she gives him, a quick, sharp flicker of her eyes before she focuses back on the road, he thinks he probably shouldn’t say anything else. He shouldn’t, but, well. 

“Is this about pleasing Vicky, or are you just that interested in dating someone else?”

“Don’t be a child about this, Joel. It’s a therapeutic–”

“It’s bullshit is what it is. I don’t– I already know what I want, and I don’t need to go testing the waters to be sure of it. What I’m not so sure about is if you can say the same.” She can’t put her finger on anything specific,  probably just a slow-building amalgamation of things. Stressful week at work, and the leaking sink getting worse, and her doctor increasing a medication dosage that’s made her body feel like something other than her body, and this fucking therapy and this fucking trying and she’s trying so hard and she feels like she’s failing and when she glances at him he looks hurt, really hurt, a close crumple in his face, deep frown, and it frustrates her because all she’s trying to do is do it right, and all she gets is this constant rhythm of resistance, this push and pull and yes, it’s all of that, all of that creeping up her throat tight and hot and curling behind her eyes sending salt pinpricks and sharp pangs. When the first sob breaks, it does so as a gasp, like a small and stunned thing in her chest. And, well, it’s never uphill from there, is it?

“Do you– do we need to pull over?”

“No, I don’t need to fucking pull over. I’m not an invalid, I can cry and drive at the same time.” Except it doesn’t come out quite like that, not smooth like that. The words get stop-started with each new shudder, new stutter, hiccuping on fucking and invalid. The world has gone to slanted stained-glass through all her tears. 

Unsure what to do, but that’s nothing new. He doesn’t say anything else, watches her through the wary side of his eye, sobs turning into something more subdued, little wounded sounds high in her throat, a choice fuck you with a little more bite behind it when someone cuts her off merging onto the highway. He feels useless, feels like, maybe, this is what Vicky should be talking with them about instead of her siege on marriage plan. All he knows is that he seems to get it wrong every time, so this time, he doesn’t interject or intervene, doesn’t say any more than he already has. He lets her cry, and he lets her drive.

He doesn’t know when it happened. When he decided he was going to fix things for her, or just fix her, really. His lady in pieces and he was going to put her back together, and it seemed like every time he tried to, she just shattered a little more. That April is the obvious answer, the most shattered he had ever seen her. But the fighting had started before then, and so had the fixing that wasn’t really fixing. Like a relief, like a release, the slow realization that no, it never worked, and no, it was never going to work. The sobs turn into shivers turn into something even smaller. By the time they pull up in front of his apartment complex, it has passed. 

“I just– I want to do this right, this therapy thing, and I want it to work, and I want it to work so we can be okay again. That’s what I want.” The words hang between them. He makes no move to get out of the car, and she counts her inhales in the silence, waiting for him to say something, anything. It feels like a child’s logic, or maybe a hail Mary, and she knows it, feels a little insane saying it, the words fitting strangely in her mouth. The brief wondering comes to her, what would she have said about where they are now to her girlfriends, what snark, what sharp jokes at their expense? Him in an apartment and a fifteen minute drive separating them and a woman named Vicky unraveling (and in theory, putting back together) their marriage in phases, fucking phases, and fucking Vicky. She doesn’t want to go on a date with someone else, and she doesn’t know why she’s taking Vicky’s instructions as gospel. But she does know, doesn’t she? It’s not about Vicky, not about Vicky and her fucking phases. Fixing, being fixed, that’s what she wants. 

“So, you’re saying you want us to date other people in order to fix our marriage.” Grateful that she takes it for the joke he meant it as, it’s just enough to slough off some of the tension, roll of her eyes, please. They both let out a sigh, too tired for much else. But maybe, he thinks, this counts as progress, sitting here with her in the car and the sun washing everything down burnt and orange. He watches her eyes drop shut for a moment, fine lines like porcelain fissures and he loves those lines, liked catching her in the bathroom with her face pressed up close to the mirror and her fingers pulling those lines taut around her eyes, her mouth. He’d pull her hands away from her face, ask her if she was planning her halloween costume for next year, earning a scoff and a roll of her eyes and her trying to pull away from him, and he wouldn’t let her. Making it better with kisses to those lines, and eventually, her pressing her fingers as light as prayers over his, an implicit wondering, where did the time go?

“Look, if it really makes you that uncomfortable, let’s just lie to Vicky. We could still get like, an A-minus in therapy if we leave just one thing out.”

“I didn’t realize therapy came with a grade.” He smiles, all soft, and she can’t help the sheepish bloom in her chest, rolling her lips back into her mouth to hide her own grin, eventually, reluctantly, admitting in a quiet, skewed to the side voice, okay, so maybe, maybe I was doing that thing, that winning thing. He doesn’t say anything, and that’s a mercy. Just nods, of course, and of course, he knew, maybe even before she did, and is that knowing not a mercy too? She thinks it is. 

“I want to do this right too, Cass. And, I mean, we’re paying Vicky enough money that we should do what she tells us to.”

“Are you saying you want to do it then?”

“Want is a strong word.”

“Okay, are you saying you’re willing to do it?” 

“It’s just the one?”

“Just the one.” 

“Alright, fuck it, let’s do it. We better get a goddamn A-plus at the end of this.” 

“Mmm, gold stars too.” Another sigh, another settling. How nice, another sigh, another settling. It’s a strange equation, but she thinks it still adds up. Neither of them want to do this, not really, but they’re willing to, and they’re willing to because of each other. Willing to try and get it right for each other. Just, well, ignore the finer details of what getting it right entails. 

“You hear from Sarah lately?”

“On Monday, yeah. Called to wish me a happy birthday.”

“Well, only off by four days, not too bad.”

“Oh no, she called on Monday because she was, and I quote, too busy the rest of the week to call.”

“Wow.”

“Right?”

“Is it bad that sometimes I kinda hate it?”

“Hate what?”

“That she’s like, a fully-formed person now. I miss the days when she was a little blob who liked holding onto me by one of my belt loops.” He has to smile, nod, because he knows exactly what she means. And the truth of it is that Sarah was so good, maybe the best, if he’s allowed to give his completely biased opinion. And the other truth, Cass is, was, one of those people simply meant to be a parent, a mother. He remembers when they first started dating, and all the exhausting maneuvering he did, getting his parents or Tommy to watch Sarah, a string of canceled dinner plans when his kid couldn’t seem to stop catching things at daycare. He was sure that Cass would lose interest every time another piece of his reality was revealed to her. After all, he was not unfamiliar with being left behind. But that never happened, she stayed every time. 

It was Cass who first suggested it. Didn't want to impose, but what if, maybe we could, would it be okay if, why don’t we. They went to the zoo that weekend, if he remembers correctly, Sarah in tow, shy at first around the woman she barely knew, though she bloomed over the course of the day. Yes, he thinks, it was the zoo, because he remembers how by the end of the day, Cass had her on her hip, as easy as anything, so she could get a better view of the rhinos. He knows now that, even in those earliest days, she loved his kid just as much as she loved him. He knows now what a gift that was, and continues to be. 

“She’s gonna be alright, Cass. We did good with her.” She sighs, yeah, we did. She had been worried about telling her about the whole lieutenant-LMFT thing, the whole quasi-separation thing, but that was a direct command from Vicky, letting the family know what was going on. Sarah had taken it surprisingly well when she called, could be good, mom, like a reset. Of course, they kept the worst of it away from her, and of course, she still knew something had changed, something not right between them. No one was left unscathed after that April.

From the start, loving him included loving Sarah. It was never difficult for her to do both. Sweet girl, bright like the sun girl, rounded cheeks and bouncing curls, and Cassandra found that her love for her had a particular effect on her heart. Whenever small hand reached for one of hers, whenever small face tucked into her neck, whether tear-damp or milk-tired, and eventually, whenever she was given the name mom, like a stop and restart of her heart, like something turning back on inside her and finally working right. An everything kind of love, to not only be chosen by him, but to be chosen by her too. 

“Well, anyways, Vicky didn’t make any stipulations about birthdays, so I have something for you.” Just a small thing, she says, leaning over the console and into the back seat, and he knows better than to say no, shouldn’t have, because there’s already a perfect package being placed in his hands, navy blue wrapping paper and a white bow, and her hand cups underneath his for just a moment, there and gone. 

The truth is she had already picked out this gift two months ago, what feels like a lifetime before this separation. Now, watching him open it, she’s a little worried it had been presumptuous of her, if not completely narcissistic. But if he thinks that, he makes no show of it, lets out a quiet laugh as he takes the watch out of the box and holds it up in the fading light to look at it. 

“It’s a little sappy, maybe. But, well, we have something that kinda matches now.” Something is unfurling in his chest, heat loosening something he didn’t even realize he had been tightening up around. It’s a beautiful watch, rich leather strap and polished silver. And the face of it catches and shimmers a little in the light. He knows right away that it’s mother of pearl. 

Here, she says, let me, and he does, feeling a little indulgent watching her fasten the watch around his wrist, and definitely breaking one of fucking Vicky’s fucking rules when he ducks his head down and steals a kiss, another one, letting the third deepen just a little, both of them humming because missed this, missed this, didn’t realize how much, but missed this. 

“Thank you, pearly.” It feels good to be so close to him, noses brushing and smiles curling around each other. Feels like a relief. 

“Happy birthday, one day ahead. We could, you know, do something tomorrow? Get dinner maybe?” Before he can answer, say yes, she’s already caught herself, sheepish smile and pulling a little further away and oh, right. She says sorry, wasn’t thinking, and they do an awkward dance around the whole thing, right, yeah, probably shouldn’t, right, yeah. He is not a hateful man, and it would be too strong to say he’d wish Vicky harm. But if something were to happen, in theory, that’d make Vicky go the fuck away, in theory, he wouldn’t be too torn up about it. 

“See you next Thursday then?”

“Well, next next Thursday, because we have to do the– yeah.”

“Right, yeah.” Right, yeah, this is the part where he gets out of the car. The part where he goes up to his apartment and she drives home and they don’t eat dinner together and they don’t brush their teeth together and they don’t go to sleep together. Right, yeah. They say goodnight. He’d like to say love, but he doesn’t. She’d like to say love, but she doesn’t. And they part ways. 

She hates being in this house alone. Leaves all the lights on all hours of the day and checks all the locks three times before going upstairs to bed. Passes by the closed door that remains closed with her breath held. She knows it makes no sense, but she’s been sleeping in the guestroom, makes the whole thing a little easier. Always had a tendency toward insomnia, tossing and turning brain and body. 

When they were just starting to get more serious, and she was just starting to stay over at his more often, she got worried that eventually it'd drive him mad enough for the whole thing to not be worth it, neither of them getting much sleep as they learned how to share a bed together. And she doesn't remember how it started exactly, maybe out of a moment of pure exasperation, him draping just enough of his weight over her to press slower breath into her lungs and still her body. It became a routine, she'd ask could you? And he'd already know what she was asking for without her having to say any more than that. What she also doesn't remember, when that stopped working, when she stopped asking, and he stopped answering. She supposes it all happened slowly, just like the rest of it. 

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller series #joel miller story #joel miller fic #joel miller au

[nightsadness]

Tags: fem!reader, headcanons, angst?, treason, mistress!reader, mention of Nacha

Pairing: Francis Mosses x fem!reader

Warning: Francis was cheating on Nacha. The author's command of English is not very good, and there may be errors in the text

A/n: Guys, if you want a sequel, just post it in the comments. I've had this idea in my head for a long time and couldn't sleep well until I wrote it. I don't know what kind of ending to make: happy or sad? In the idea, does the girl get a job as a doorman or do she and Francis just happen to cross paths

Word: 444

2 years ago you had a secret affair with Francis, he was still married and you were his mistress. He came to you like a party, and it was for you that Mosses saved his charm, his smiles, his funny stories. At home, he's a dreary family servant, a slave to the garbage can and material calculations. At yours, he's a conqueror of the universe, a superman, a knight. You take him for what he wants to be in your eyes. Yes, you'll never see him in his house slippers in front of the TV or making excuses on the phone to his boss. And that's great!

Nacha can sleep well - you and Francis have so little in common: only love. Love in its purest form, not translated into material details, not relegated to the boring ritual of eating together or watching television programs. And let his wife cook her praised food, flavored with her irritation and fatigue, an apple from your hands will still taste better. Because all you need is love. Yes, one day that love will be gone...one fine day. Everything alive goes away sooner or later. And you don't have to try to pretend that your feeling is eternal, it won't make it come alive. You don't have to pretend and lie for years that you're experiencing something that has no return.

But as previously stated, love was gone. One fine day, it would seem, Nacha found out about her husband's adventures. It was like this: she just happened to see you together and it didn't take her not long to put the puzzle together, especially since she caught you kissing. Nacha immediately divorced Francis, who did not resist, they separated quite peacefully, although Nacha gave him a scandal. Francis wanted to find comfort in you, but you also left him, justifying yourself by saying that you were going to another country and would not be back soon, Mosses wanted to keep in touch with you, but you left suddenly, just disappeared at one moment.

No, you were never a bitch, certainly you knew your worth and were a confident girl, but you never crossed the line. You could say you had feelings for Francis, but you never saw yourself as a wife, it wasn't your thing, you were a free bird and family wasn't your thing. And the real reason you left was fear that Francis would leave Nacha and then you'd be in her shoes. You left to let your feelings fester.

The long move did help you, and you no longer felt anything for Francis, so you returned safely to your hometown to continue your life here....

night, sadness ©2024

#francis mosses x reader #francis mosses #nacha mikaelys #that's not my neighbor #tnmn #tnmn milkman #milkman x reader #treason #thats not my neighbor