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#give my bois their reunion!
bongo-clash · 2 years
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AU where Danny does get powers from the accident- but instead of being a halfa and everything he just inherits the properties of zone ectoplasm from the show ('real world' stuff can phase through him, ghosts can't phase through him/overshadow him, etc.) and is Incredibly Aware of all the ectoplasm in his vicinity, so now instead of the classic superhero-y fights Danny just has to goad ghosts down to ground level and fist-fight them.
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shinmiyovvi · 1 month
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Oh, hawakan mo ako Damhin mo ang pag-ibig kong sa'yo Oh, ikaw ang pinakamagandang dalaga Na aking nasilayan Magulong mundo'y tatakasan Ikaw lamang ang hiling na makasama - Maria Clara by Sugarcane
Reference
Alt versions under the cut
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ethowo-indeed · 1 year
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ohhhh etho u wanna hang out with joel on hermitcraft sooo badlyy pleASE
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deus-ex-mona · 3 months
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worming out of awkward conversations l i k e
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#accidentally partially traumadumped on my coworker earlier auaaaaaa im so sorry#literally all she asked was ‘are you gonna be spending cny with your father?’ and cue the rant (sadge)#i didn’t really have to tell her that the dude tried to burn our apartment down during a certain rampage#(said fire was extinguished by my then-11 year old bro with water from the sink though. good boi)#the topic was successfully changed after that yeayyyyyy#but. m a n n n n . cny is not a good time for me lmfaooooo#i swear i have at least one bad memory for all of the years that i’ve gone housevisiting for the season#like there was that time when i,as a kindergartner,was deemed to be the cause of breaking apart the family’s bonds#over a can of cola at a reunion dinner bc i cried when my evil aunt scolded me for daring to want a drink other than water#i think my father still blames me for that to this very day lmfaoooooo#g o d. manifesting my hopes and dreams for that prick to not contact me this year im begginggggg#he’s. like. the one person i hate more than myself. 3rd place on my hatelist is his father ofc. no clue who 4th place would be though…#hmmmmm ok i think that’s enough traumadumping for one cny season lmao#tune in next year as i once again wonder what tf the name of one of my cousins is#bc despite how bonkers that side of the family is… i’m sure that the dude’s parents weren’t deranged enough to name their son ‘colour’—#his name is seriously one of my greatest unsolved mysteries. i mean. he has siblings with names like dylan and vivian/valerie/vanessa(?)#and yet everyone calls him something that sounds like ‘colour’.#like damn did his parents decide to skip giving just one of their children a first name or something? guess i’ll never know
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themuseoftheviolets · 3 months
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shawn is gonna become my new uncle jesse i just know it
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redrumrose · 3 months
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I don't like comparing/tagging my ocs to other original/indie content, but my gosh that latest Lackadaisy Chess animation I was just all grins and thinking 'This is so Dima and Pasha when they play chess. This is so them haha! It just escalates to arguing and violence.' xDD
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cosmicrhetoric · 10 months
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ok sasuke isnt even a super compelling villain like hes not one of those mcu 'capitalism is bad also hold up let me kill some children' justified villains. hes kinda silly. he has inconsistent ideals and morals he acts his age and his criticisms are barely coherent cause someone different is manipulating him nearly every step of the way but he STILL makes you go "yeah huh hes kinda right...." ONLY because kishimoto somehow made konoha and the whole child soldier thing so fucking cartoonishly evil that i dont believe any protag who defends it and im permanently in good for her! mode whenever sasuke has a lil moment
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thorn-princess · 7 months
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NOOOO ALICES SPIRITUAL JUDGE IS GOING AWAY???? YOTSUME GOD IS GOING AWAY??? MY HEARTTTTTTTT
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foli-vora · 1 year
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once again in your arms
joel miller x f!reader
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A/N: mwahah, hello boys i’m baaack (10 points to whoever knows what movie that quote's from). took an unexpected break coz life, but i’m ready to get back on track. this was requested by a beautiful anon a while back (sorry for the wait angel), but i hope you enjoy! x
Request: hello! so this is kinda angsty: joel and the reader are married and have a baby (plus sarah, obviously). the day of the outbreak, reader and baby were in town and she couldnt call joel (or viceversa) cause the phone lines were down. they were separated for a few years until they arrives at the quarantine zone he's in, and he recognizes them in the crowd.
Word count: 4.5k-ish
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, birth and having a baby, domestic fluff, angst, pre and post outbreak, some spoilery things if you haven’t seen the show yet, heartbreak, loss of a child, apocalypse things, i sweat at the idea of caring for a baby during the end of the world, soft reunions, fluff, cameos of my fave oc’s made in a different series
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It’s a fact you had learnt in the very early days of your relationship... the Miller men knew how to care for a lady. Whether it was Tommy sliding in to open the door for you before you could reach for the handle, or Joel draping you in blankets and taking on the responsibility of keeping your hot water bottle warm to fend off cramps for the evening, not a moment went by when you didn’t feel the constant reassurance of their care.
Especially now, fresh from the hospital and tender from your days of excruciating pain and an extensively long labour, Tommy quickly slaps the pillows into something plusher, hands gentle as they guide you down until you’re reclining into the armchair.
Joel keeps an eye on you from across the room, the brief wash of concern slipping away with the easy smile that grows along his lips when your eyes meet.
He rocks the wrapped bundle in his arms softly, a big hand dwarfing the small head that peaks from the blankets. His fingers brush through the light smattering of hair peeking out from the cotton burrito, his index running along the tiny peak of a nose and you feel your heart swell in your chest.
“Dad,” Sarah whines with an eager smile, shifting restlessly on the couch, “come on, I’ve been waiting all weekend.”
“Oh my god,” Joel drawls sarcastically, “all weekend? Baby girl, how are you survivin’ right now?”
“Shut up,” her grin widens, “give me my baby brother before I explode.”
“Well, we don’t want that mess all in the livin’ room,” Joel quips, stepping over your weekend bags tossed on the floor and closer to the couch, “ain’t treadin’ your brain all into the rug—thing was damn expensive.”
Sarah shrugs, readjusting her body to sit straighter and holding her arms out expectantly, “Least I have a brain.”
Tommy snorts in amusement, grinning at his brother's expense, “That’s true.”
“Are you still here?” Joel side eyes him, barely fighting the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
They bicker, throwing their little snippy sibling comments back and forth before Sarah clears her throat, her eyebrows rising in impatience.
“Alright, alright. Here, watch his head,” Joel instructs gently, a smile playing along his lips, “that’s it, baby, you got him.”
It’s a beautiful picture, Sarah carefully bringing the baby closer and tucking him carefully into her arms, and the sentiment is shared with Tommy as the flash and click of a camera goes off. He removes the polaroid sliding from the slot and sits it on the coffee table to develop before instructing Joel to slide in next to her and smile.
Both Joel and Sarah are oblivious to his instruction, lost in the bubble that has overcome them. You find peace watching them, warmth spreading along your limbs by the sweet tenderness of it all. The love is clear between the three of them cuddled on the couch, and it’s almost too much for your heart to bear.
Sarah beams down at her baby brother, cooing soft words and stroking a gentle finger down Matthew’s cheek. Joel throws an arm to rest on the top of the couch behind Sarah, turning into her and answering her questions quietly.
8 pounds, 3 ounces. Smaller than you. No, he didn’t cry at all—gave me and the docs a damn heart attack. She sure did a great job. 
Your Joel was never a man to wear his heart on his sleeve, but the emotion shines from his eyes, bleeds through the lines in his face and it’s enough to bring tears building along your lash line.
“You okay over there?”
His familiar drawl brings your attention to him, and you smile at him, tired and fully at peace. It’s bliss, despite the ache of birth still hanging in your limbs. M
“I’m fine,” you respond quietly, lids heavy with exhaustion, “I’m just so happy.”
He fucking beams. His grin creases his cheeks and he nods softly.
“Me too, honey,” he mutters, turning his attention back to his children and playing with a strand of Sarah’s hair as he gazes down at Matthew, “me too.”
Four months later.
Chaos.
Matthew wails against your chest, the deafening sounds of screams, bullets, sirens and explosions setting him off into hysterics. Your arms tighten around him, keeping his face tucked closely into your throat so your scent could hopefully provide him some reassurance.
You crouch beside cars, you run until your legs ache. You take cover in stores, the soles of your shoes crunching over broken glass of the shattered windows. Every phone you try gives nothing but a dull tone. Radios are filled with static and emergency broadcasts play on the view screens you run past in your effort to escape whatever the hell is happening.
Worry stirs along the edges of your mind. Is Joel okay? Sarah? Tommy? You can’t call him, you can only run and hope nothing takes you down in your effort to get back to your car. You pass people crouched over others, blood smearing along their lips as they tear unforgivingly into the flesh of another.
It’s a nightmare, and it’s everywhere you look.
Almost there.
You see the sign of the parking lot and it only makes you run that much faster, even though your legs threaten to give out at any minute. You pass an elderly man crouching beside a woman, blood flowing from the open gash on her throat, and the ache clutching your heart only increases when his pleas reach your ears over the mayhem.
“Gloria,” he mutters in an aged rasp, “up you get, love. You’re alright, come on now—”
You can’t help it.
Somewhere in your mind you can feel Joel screaming at you to keep running, to get yourself to safety and not give a damn about anyone other than Matthew, but the image of this man cradling his wife’s wrinkled, bloodied hand is enough to get you advancing to him before anyone could hurt him. 
“Sir—”
He ignores you, too busy with brushing the woman’s blood soaked white hair from her face.
“Sir, we have to move—”
You wrap your fingers around his shoulder and shake firmly. His head gives a shake of denial as he clutches his wife’s hand tighter.
“No… no, she’ll need help—she has a bad ankle.”
Shifting Matthew unsteadily onto your hip, your fingers wrap under his arm and tug him onto his feet. He fights you, bats your hold away with an infuriated expression at your rough handling of him.
“I’m so sorry, but she’s gone—we have to run. I—I have a car, please… just come with me, please!”
“I won’t leave her—”
“Please… they’re coming! I—would she want this for you? To die like this?”
He blinks, his frown softening ever so slightly before screams pierce the air, much closer than you anticipated, and terror claws up your throat until you feel you’ll vomit.
You hold out a hand, relieved when his own rough, calloused hand finally takes it, and then you’re running, albeit slower than before, but you make it to your car with no issues.
You dive into the driver's seat, passing Matthew over to the stranger when he makes an impatient gesture to hold him and then you’re tearing out of the lot, running down the few rabid looking beings that advance on you with bloodied expressions of hunger.
You don’t think you take a proper breath until you’re past a military barricade that had seemingly been destroyed in the attack, flying down the highway and around other panicked drivers with sweat slicking your skin. 
Taking a deep breath to slow the brutal pounding of your heart, you look at Matthew, now calmed and looking up at the stranger with an obvious shine of curiosity. The old man is clearly softened by the baby, letting his small hand wrap around his finger and wiggling it playfully in his hold.
“That’s Matthew,” you mutter shakily, meeting the eyes of the elderly man before gazing back out the windscreen. You take another breath before giving your own name, tears biting at your eyes when you utter the name Miller.
Do you still have a husband? A step daughter? A brother in law? The unknown scares you, outright fucking terrifies you. 
The man nods in your peripheral vision.
“Harold,” he finally says, voice rough and tired.
There are people everywhere, screaming, crying.
People run, shout, wail over family and friends.
Tears have long dried on his face, his head thumping relentlessly with the remnants of his heartbreak. Tommy’s grip is firm on him, tugging him out of the way of people tearing down in their direction, pulling him to where a makeshift table is thrust under a tent as a reception of sorts.
He doesn’t care about the people already there asking about their family and friends. He shoves them out of the way, hands shaking as they clutch the edge of the weak table.
“I’m lookin’ for a woman… she’d be with a baby boy, not even four months old—”
His voice shakes. He can’t get it to stop. He struggles to get out the detailed descriptions of you both down to the clothes you were wearing, speaking your names through trembling lips. His stomach jolts at the thought of you somewhere, lying helplessly on the floor with your flesh getting torn into while Matthew screams in his car seat.
He’s a damn baby. He wouldn’t know what’s happening, wouldn’t know why his mama’s not there with him—
The woman gives a small expression of sympathy over the thin surgical mask covering her mouth, “I’m sorry, sir. We’ve had no babies that young come through, and nothing like that has come in over the radios.”
He retches. 
His body heaves, almost as if it’s rejecting the mere idea that you weren’t somewhere safe waiting for him. He had failed. Failed to keep Sarah safe, failed to keep Matthew safe, you—the vows he had made now meant shit. He hadn’t been there for better or worse. He’d hadn’t done what a father should have and kept his kids free from harm.
Sarah had died, terrified and in agony, in his hold. Her bloodied handprints remain dry and caked on his arms. Matthew had died, not even making it to six months. A baby, still fresh to the world, only just able to hold his own head up. You had died, not knowing where he and Sarah were, if they were even safe.
Tommy hauls him to a close trash can, rubbing a firm hand up and down his back as he chokes on vomit, tears soon streaming down his cheeks when his body eventually has nothing left to give. His heart hammers in his chest, thundering against his ribs and filling his ears until he’s unaware of the noises around him. 
“They’re gone,” he whispers hoarsely, clutching at the rim of the trash can in an effort to keep himself up.
“Now we don’t know that—”
“God damn it, Tommy, you saw what it was like out there!” 
Tommy sighs, his own eyes filling with tears. “We gotta keep hope, Joel—”
“Hope?” Joel spits at his brother, “What good is hope against that shit out there? She would’ve been alone, you know as well as I Matthew only would’ve slowed her down. They were in the city. We couldn’t even keep safe out here! They’re—they’re gone. My wife… my baby boy, my baby girl—”
The sobs tear from his chest, harsh and painful. He mourns for hours, unseeing of the flurried movement still happening around him, his sorrow mixing with the flood of agony filling the makeshift safe zone with every new unhurt civilian looking for someone familiar.
Tommy doesn’t take his arms away from around his brother until dawn starts to pierce the horizon, 
Two years later.
He still fills your thoughts daily.
Your life, your old life, would flash behind your eyelids at night when sleep would finally claim you. You’d feel his touch, kiss his lips, touch his face. It all felt so normal. The dreams would be nothing but memories, and somehow, it made them feel more like nightmares.
Mornings making breakfast with Sarah, dancing to the music falling from the radio. Family game nights, watching Tommy and Joel get more and more competitive with each game. Grocery shopping with Joel, simply wandering down the aisles and relishing in his comforting touch warming your lower back. 
You could never quite make peace with the possibility that he was dead. It didn’t sit right. The idea that your Joel had been lost to the disaster that had claimed the world just seemed impossible. Your heart rejected the notion, refused to accept that its counterpart wasn’t somewhere out there, living, breathing, surviving,
Sarah and Tommy, too.
They had to be somewhere, holed up safely and keeping well. They had to.
“They’ve established a quarantine zone close by,” you say quietly, mindful of Matthew sleeping on your lap, “it’ll be a lot safer there than out here. I think we should give it a go… find a more secure place to live. I’ve heard they have work available, good flow of food and medicine…”
Harry snorts quietly, shifting under his old, thick jacket, “That doesn’t mean they’re happy giving it out. There’ll be a catch somewhere.”
You eye the long carved frown in his features and lean forward to fix the blanket covering his tired legs, “Don’t you think we should try at least?”
“Maybe they’ll put a bullet in me,” Harry grumbles moodily, “I’m old—I can’t work like they’ll want me to. Although, it’ll beat living through this bloody nightmare any longer.”
“Harold,” you chide softly, heart aching at the thought of losing the grumpy old man after spending so long by his side.
He’d quickly become a grandfather figure of sorts, to both you and Matthew. The little boy was obsessed with him, and had been since the day you had come together, and though he tried to hide it behind his usual icy facade, Harry was smitten, weak from the boy learning to call him pa.
“He’ll be safer in there,” Harry finally grumbles, gazing at the sleeping toddler. “This is no life for him out here. It’s getting worse and worse. Stability will do him good.”
“And you’ll come with us?”
He sighs sharply, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine—I’ll come. But if they don’t kill me, I’ll be bloody upset with you.”
You snort in amusement, a grin curling your lips. “Fair enough. Now drink your soup.”
“I’m not hungry. You have it.”
He shoves it away, pushing it in your direction, as he usually does. It’s a daily fight—him refusing food in favour of giving you and Matthew more, ensuring you both never went hungry despite his own hunger and rapid weight loss due to the sudden lack of food.
You give him a playful frown and hold the small cup out to him.
“Don’t make me force feed you, old man, drink it.”
The walls of the Quarantine Zone are a lot more daunting than you had originally thought they would be. They tower high, and the barely there movement of soldiers along the front and top of it have nerves start to build in the pit of your stomach.
Maybe this isn’t a good idea. Surely they wouldn’t shoot without asking questions? Would they even give you a chance? What happens to you if the zone is full? Would they let you go on your merry little way?
God, you feel sick. 
The ice creeping along your skin doubles, and you tighten your grip on the baby carrier strapped to your chest. Matthew hums quietly against your back, his little fingers tracing random patterns along your shirt as he bounces with your each step. Harry walks somewhat steadily beside you, his cheeks reddening with the more distance you cover.
He gives you a reassuring nod when you look to him for guidance, and you continue forward, swallowing the lump building in your throat when you become aware of them yelling about your presence.
Their guns are raised when you eventually make it closer, and it’s automatic to throw your hands up in surrender.
“We’re not infected!” you shout, hoping they’d listen. 
A soldier steps forward. “On the ground, now!”
“Shit. Okay! Please, I—we’re not infected—”
“Get. On. The. Ground!”
“I have a kid! I have a—please, we’re not—”
“Get the kid out.”
Panic flares to life in your chest. You fight the tremble in your fingers as they raise to the clip across your chest, winding a supportive hand around to your back to keep Matthew from falling out of the carrier as it loosens from your torso.
After a bit of shifting, Matthew stands on shaky legs, his eyes darting between you and the few soldiers with their weapons raised.
“It’s okay, baby,” you soothe softly, “we gotta do what the man says, okay? Can you do that for mama?”
You continue to lower until your front hits the rubble covered ground, and you motion for Matthew to do the same, heart breaking as he cowers in fear and falls to his knees before copying your posture and hiding his face against the road.
More voices fill your ears, the obvious presence of more soldiers swarming from the gate causing your pulse to skyrocket as Harry lowers on the other side of the small toddler.
“Check ‘em.”
“Everything’s fine,” you murmur, keeping your gaze on Matthew and smiling when he peeks at you from between his fingers, “we’re okay. Keep your eyes on me, baby. Everything’s gonna be okay.”
It stings.
You automatically flinch away from the device someone holds at your neck, freezing when more weapons are raised in your direction. The device gives a small beep and the soldier gives a loud clear, before moving for Matthew.
He cries out at the pain, his chest heaving with his growing sobs. The guns move in his direction and you’re flying towards him before you can even think, yelping when arms pull you away from your baby before you can console him. His screams worsen. 
“Please,” you beg, “he’s just a baby—!”
The soldiers remain emotionless.
Another beep, another clear.
The fingers digging into your arms loosen and then you’re free, hurriedly crawling on all fours until Matthew’s in your arms, his tear stricken face pressing into your throat. You soothe him softly, murmuring how well he did and that he’s safe with you while the soldiers move their attention to Harry.
When the device gives a final clear, another soldier steps forward, a small smile stretching his lips.
“Sorry about that,” he says, stepping forward until he’s only a step away, “but we can’t be too careful.”
It’s surreal being around people again.
For the longest time, it’s just been you, Matthew and Harry. The people left after the event had turned cruel, desperate for any remaining resources and resulting to violence left, right and centre. It’d been sheer luck that you three had escaped some of the nastier characters you’d come across during your treks. Sure, you’d lost a few supplies every now and then, but you were thankful you all were still here at least.
The man leads you into an office of sorts, with rusted old chairs to sit on while he goes about ‘registering’ you. You’re surprised at the process of it all, confused when he says you’re in luck because after this morning, there are new rooms available. What does that mean? Had something happened to the occupants?
Your stomach turns, but you dare not dwell on it.
Safety for Matthew, that’s all that matters. That’s why you’re here.
It feels like hours before you’re stepping into the sun again, lead out onto a relatively normal looking street with written directions to your new accommodation. The door bangs loudly behind you, fully closing you from the horrors of the outside world, and you try not to focus on the looks of curiosity, borderline hostility, as you start to walk further into the QZ, the height of the wall casting a large shadow over your path.
There’s a main square of sorts, filled with small stations of people selling various items. Your stomach grumbles at the sight of shitty looking food, desperate to eat something other than the random old bits and pieces you’d find through your looting, but you’d have to begin work to even afford a single half burnt bread roll. The two ration cards you had received at your ‘registration’ wouldn’t make a dent in what you’d need to afford any of it.
You pass the sellers, sharing a sullen look with Harry as he too realises he wouldn’t have enough for any of it.
There’s crowds, and you try to keep to yourself as you move, but something catches your eye, as if your sight had been automatically pulled to that direction and you’re oblivious to the people bumping into your frame.
For a moment, you’re sure you’re dreaming.
Did they end up shooting you at the gate? This couldn’t be real, couldn’t be unfolding right before your very eyes. You feel alive. You feel your pulse, your breath. You feel Matthew shift in the carrier, you hear Harry making comments about the people and the surrounding buildings.
You can’t look away.
You’re pulled in his direction, certain with every bone in your body that it’s him. It’s him.
The man turns, and his eyes are meeting yours through the crowds before you can even brace for it, and you see the moment it hits him.
He freezes, his eyes unblinking as if they don’t want to risk losing the hallucination his mind had conjured. He steps forward, and again, and again, slow in his movements, cautious.
“Joel?” You breathe, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear you over the bustle of your surroundings and the distance between you, but he must see your lips mould his name because then he’s running, ducking through the people and heading straight your way.
You start to jog, careful not to disturb the carrier holding Matthew too much, and then he’s there. He’s there and he’s real and he’s saying your name so sweetly, a broken rasp of disbelief and a tremble taking over his hands as they raise to cup your cheeks.
You sob at his touch. 
The tears flow from your eyes and you grasp at whatever you can on him, your fingers tightening around the jacket hanging from his frame as you attempt to pour two years of loss into your embrace. He cradles the back of your head, keeps your face pressed tightly against the dirtied skin of his throat as he mutters brokenly about how he thought you were dead and that he’d missed you so damn much.
“Oh baby boy,” he rumbles, noticing the baby carrier and the toddler within it with tears filling his lash line, “look at you.”
You hurriedly unclip the harness and sweep Matthew out of it, bringing him into the middle of your embrace. Joel runs a hand along Matthew’s cheek before sweeping down and kissing him on the forehead, his tears dropping over the toddler’s cheeks in obvious relief and utter joy. 
“How—”
You shake your head, nuzzling into the rough hand holding your cheek. “Later. We’ll talk later about everything, I just—god, I’ve missed you so fucking much, Joel.”
His head lowers until his forehead is pressed against yours, and his eyes flutter closed. You feel it in the simple gesture, how much he had missed you, mourned for you. He gives a small nod, followed by a quiet okay, before another presence suddenly makes themselves known.
Your body jolts with the weight hitting your side, and you jump in fright before your eyes come across a slightly skinny looking Australian Shepherd desperate for attention.
His tongue lolls from his mouth as he attempts to lap at your cheek, and you chuckle through your stream of steady flowing tears at the cheerful dog.
“Chip,” Joel grunts in slight annoyance, shoving the fluffy beast away from where he tries to jump and sniff at Matthew’s cheeks, “down—down, boy!”
“You have a dog?” You ask in curiosity, reaching out to pet the animal. Your smile widens when he eagerly nuzzles into your touch with an excited whine.
“He was wanderin’ the QZ when I came in,” Joel replies, one of his hands leaving your waist to deliver a rough rub to the dogs head, “followed me home one night and hasn’t stopped botherin’ me since. Tommy said he’d be good for me.”
“Tommy’s here? And Sarah?” You perk immediately in excitement, your eyes flying past his shoulder to look for his brother and the other part of your heart that’s been missing for years. “I’m so glad they’re alright, where are they?”
You don’t notice how considerably quiet he’s gone until you look at him. He’s defeated, guarded, his dark eyes drawn to the floor. He can’t look at you. Why can’t he look at you? What’s happened?
“Joel?”
“Sarah… she—she—”
He struggles to finish the sentence, the words stick uncomfortably on his tongue. His features twist in clear anguish and you feel the world around you shatter. Sarah, she… she’s gone? When? How?
Your heart sinks, weak and broken by the unexpected news. Your mind struggles to wrap itself around the notion that you’d never see her again, that the last time you saw her was truly the last. 
Regret begins to build in the pit of your stomach. That last day… you should’ve hugged her tighter, kissed her forehead, told her how much she meant to you and how lucky you were to be in her life—
The tears begin again.
“Oh Joel, I-I’m so sorry,”
You both share the heartache, wrapped in each other's arms and breathing in the other. His tight hold doesn’t loosen for a second, and you attempt to put every ounce of energy in your tired body into returning it.
The world stands still, just like it did that cursed day.
How can you be so elated that he’s here, and yet be filled with so much pain at the same time? How long has he been lost, no doubt blaming himself for his baby girl not making it to where he is now? You mourn her, mourn him for being lost, stuck on a path of despair and believing he had lost everything for so long.
What had become of him? What had the pain done to him? Surely it would’ve been pure torture for the man who practically breathed family. 
Harry can wait. Introductions can wait. Food, drink, sleep—you care for none of it. Not now. All that matters is that Joel is here, truly here in the flesh, wrapped in your arms and holding the child he hasn’t seen for two years. All that matters is that you had found one another in the violent hellscape the world had become.
Peace, but that tranquillity will forever be tainted by loss, a void hanging in the midst of relief, never to be filled again.
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luveline · 5 months
Note
we know that the criminal minds writers looooved hurting spencer but i would love to see bau!reader (bombshell!reader if you think it would fit) hurt and spencer losing his mind a little (ofc everything would end up being okay because we love fluff in this house 💗)! thank youuu <333
ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1k
“Spencer, are you coming in?” 
The boy in question winces, the cellophane wrapped stems in his hand strangled by an anxious grip. Your voice is hoarse, quieter than usual, though that could be attributed to the thick wooden door between you both. He takes the door handle in his hand, readjusts his fingers, can't quite get himself to go in. 
“Spence,” you say, missing your usual cheer. “Please come in.” 
He opens the door slowly. It weighs a hundred pounds, each inch heavier than the last. 
You're propped up on the movable bed with a dinner table over your legs. Someone's brought you contraband, it seems, expensive soup from the fancy restaurant you like just outside of work. Next to it lies your phone, your chapstick, and a prescription bottle. The orange of it is too glaring to look at for long. 
“Nice to see you finally, heart-throb,” you say, sitting back, rolling your shoulders as you smile. “Where've you been?” 
Sapped by terror in the waiting room, mostly. “Sorry,” he says, offering no explanation. You deserve one, but he can't get the words out. “How are you feeling?” 
“Shot at.” 
“Is it bad?” 
Your eyes soften. “No. Wanna see it?” 
He does in an awful way. To alleviate his panic, sure, but to know what it did. To see what his stupidity resulted in. The unforgivable in stark scarring. 
You lift your shirt and shift your soft bralette up a touch to show him the wound and all its grim stitches. “It almost missed me. Guess I'm not as lucky as I think.” 
“Does it hurt?” 
“Not right now. They told me not to wear wire bras for a while, so you win some, you lose some.” You let your shirt fall back into place. He can see the indecision in your eyes. Not one for hiding like he wants to, you address the elephant in the room. “Now you've seen it's not so bad, can you look at me again?” 
“I'm looking at you.” 
“You know what I mean.” 
The thing is, Spencer doesn't, not really. Half the time you act like you're sharing a secret with him but he doesn't have a clue what you're talking about, and the intimacy is lost, and it's his fault. He's never been good or smooth or charismatic, he's never deserved your attention, and it's his fault you're here, hurting, his fault you'd been prone on the ground, his fault Morgan had to hold your side closed, his fault you almost died. 
“Spencer,” you murmur, “you know I don't blame you.” 
Of course he knows that. 
“You should,” he says tightly. He doesn't mean to get angry. 
“Well, I don't. So give me my flowers and sit down.” 
He bites the inside of his cheek. He's mad, but he gives you the flowers without any roughness, and you take them with a similarly thin thank you. 
Your reunion isn't going how either of you wants it to, it seems. 
Spencer sits in the chair next to your bed as you pick between the petals, admiring their colours, their softness. For a moment you're peaceful, but you close your eyes and press your nose gently to a small bud, and you ask, “Why are you acting like this?” Heartbroken. 
He could explain it in halves. You passed out in the back of the ambulance. Your surgery had unexpected complications. Hotch was so angry, and he still wasn't as mad at Spencer as Spencer was at himself. 
Seeing you hurt because of his mistake isn't a feeling he thinks he'll survive a second time.
“I don't get why you like me,” Spencer admits. “Not before, and especially not now. You should be pissed. This,” —he gestures to you quickly— “is my fault.” 
“It's not your fault, Spence.” 
“What would you call it?” 
You put your flowers down and stare at your lap. He's pushed you too far. Nice, he thinks to himself scathingly, to upset you in your sick bed, that's exactly what he should be doing to make it up to. Great going, Spencer. 
“Will you hold my hand?” you ask quietly. 
He hesitates, his heart skipping a beat like a missed step down the stairs. 
“Please? I just… this has been a lot. I'm not telling you to make you feel guilty, I swear, but it's been a lot. And so many times I wished someone was here. I wished you were here.” You turn your head away from him. “I thought you were mad at me. I'm still worried.” 
Spencer stands up. He feels every stretch of muscle as he does it. You raise your eyes to his, holding out your hands; you know him better than anyone else, he thinks. He overcompensates every time. 
“I'm sorry,” he says, crossing his arms behind your shoulders carefully. 
“I told you it's not your fault.” 
“For not being here to hold your hand.” 
Your hand curls in the front of his shirt. 
“M'not mad. Not even slightly. I mean, not at you…” He rubs your back with his thumb. “Why would I be mad at you?” 
“What was I supposed to think?” 
He presses his nose to your temple, eyes squeezed close in regret. “...You're right.” 
This is what he should've done the moment you woke up. Instead, he let his mind focus on detail, what flowers demarcates remorse, or if cellophane wrapping would be an imposition. Anything to forget how your hands shook as the adrenaline wore off. 
They're steady now as they wrap around his sides to rest at the small of his back. 
“I’m sorry,” he says again, lips touching to your skin with each syllable, like fractions of kisses. 
“I missed you, handsome. Please– don't do that again.” 
He rubs your back. “I won't,” he promises. “I'll be here as long as you want me to be.” 
“Forever, then.” 
For once, your flirting doesn't make him blush. 
2K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 5 months
Note
hello, hello! can i ask for an au of emt!marauders? she had a minor accident maybe in her work or college and they got called in without knowing that it was her? (shes their gf) 💘
How could I refuse??
cw: minor head injury, the teeniest tiniest hint of a praise kink
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words
You’re sitting on the curb holding a bag of ice to your head when the ambulance cuts its sirens, coming to a stop. The door opens and boots hit the pavement in front of you. 
“Dollface?”
You blink up into the sun. “Sirius?”
He crouches by your knees, worry making itself at home in the crease between his brows. “Hey, baby, what’s going on?”
“I didn’t think it’d be you,” you say dumbly. 
“Are you hurt?” James comes bounding around the other side of the ambulance, Remus not far behind him. You can’t say you’re not happy to see them, but you sort of wish your reunion could have waited until your date tomorrow night, when you would almost surely not have been in your work uniform and covered in pasta sauce. “Are we here for you?” 
“Technically,” you reply, somewhat bitterly. James squats beside Sirius, mouth pulling to one side. “I fainted a little bit, and my boss said he had to call an ambulance. Just so I can’t sue the restaurant, I guess. I’m totally fine.” 
“They called us and then made you sit on the curb?” Sirius asks angrily while James says, “How does one faint only a little bit?”
“They didn’t want you guys scaring the customers.” You choose to answer only Sirius’ question, shrugging. His eyes flare, and he looks towards the restaurant like he’s thinking about going inside to have some words with your manager, but Remus passes a conciliatory hand over his shoulder as he sits beside you on the curb. 
“What’s this for, love?” he asks you, covering your hand where it holds the bag of ice.
You must look as sheepish as you feel, because his eyes narrow slightly. “I guess I hit my head a bit when I fell.” 
“So,” he says dryly, “not totally fine, then.” 
“I mean, I don’t think I hit it very hard,” you try, but Remus is already removing your makeshift ice pack, tilting your head so he can see the forming bump on the side. 
“Why don’t you tell us everything that happened,” James suggests, giving your knee a teasing squeeze as Sirius moves beside Remus to jockey for a view of your head, “just so we have all the facts.” 
“I was carrying a tray to my table,” you explain, wincing as Remus passes a thumb over your wound with a murmured apology, “and I started to feel weird, like wobbly and out of it. I thought it might pass, but—” Sirius sends you a horrified look and your voice quiets, chastened. “I know I probably should have sat down or something, but I was working, you know? Anyway, then I guess I fell and smacked my head on the floor. When I woke up, the food was everywhere,” you recall with a sigh. Your coworkers are going to be less than pleased with you for leaving them that mess to clean up. 
“Is that what this is?” James asks, mouth tilting upward as he looks at the mess of your uniform. 
You nod solemnly. “Alfredo sauce.” 
“Did you land on any glass or anything?” Sirius asks you. He and Remus have evidently finished with their inspection of your head, though Remus’ hand still cups the back of your neck protectively.
“No, all the plates that ended up breaking went the other way.” 
“You thinking concussion?” James asks him. 
“No,” you say, at the same time as Sirius says, “Maybe.” 
Sirius fixes you with an odd look, half remonstrance and half endearment. “Sorry, doll, but you’re not exactly an expert. You very stubbornly did your job when you should have looked after yourself” —he squints his eyes at you playfully, giving your shoulder a mean squeeze— “now let us do ours for a bit, yeah?” 
You purse your lips in malcontent, but James is already clicking on his pen light, shining it in your eyes. “Look straight ahead for me, angel?” 
“S’not a big deal,” you mutter one last time in quiet mutiny, doing as he says. All three boys ignore you. 
James clicks the light off. “Alright, do you know the date?” 
“No.” 
“How about the year?” he asks patiently. You tell him, and he goes on to ask you the month and the day of the week. 
“Good.” He rewards you with a smile when you answer correctly. “Okay, do you feel nauseous or dizzy at all, darling?” 
When he looks at you like that? A little, but that’s probably unrelated. “No,” you tell him. 
“Headache?” Remus asks you. 
“I mean, only here.” You lay your palm over the bump to indicate it, but wince when it hurts worse than you expected. Sirius coos, taking your hand in his to prevent you doing yourself further harm. “Not on, like, the inside.” 
“Okay, that’s what I meant,” Remus reassures you. “What about why you fainted, love? Do you have any idea what happened?” 
You bite the inside of your lip, thinking. “Not really.” Your head had just hurt a bit, then you’d felt woozy, and then you’d fallen and it had hurt a lot worse. 
“Did you have lunch before you came to work?” James prompts. 
You nod. 
“What did you have?” 
You tell him. He seems tentatively satisfied. 
“And for breakfast? What about for dinner last night?” 
You think back, telling him what you can remember, and he nods, looking somewhat bemused. 
“Did you have a drink with any of that?” Remus asks.
You think harder. Had you? The realization must show on your face, because Sirius tuts. 
“There it is,” he says knowingly. “When was the last time you had water, doll?” 
“I…I don’t remember. I had coffee yesterday—”
They all groan. James starts laughing soon after, patting you on the thigh at your timid expression. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart, just drink plenty of water and then go home to rest, alright? You might feel shaky for a bit, so don’t get in your car to drive until you’re feeling better. Rem, do we have some water bottles in the van?” 
“Yeah.” Remus stands, palm landing affectionately on your head as he passes behind you to climb into the back of the ambulance. 
“Don’t worry,” you tell James, exhaustion seeping into your voice, “I won’t be driving for a while yet. My shift doesn’t end until six.” 
Contrary to your intentions, some of the relief saps from James’ countenance. “You’re still planning on working?” 
Uh, duh. Does he think your rent is going to pay itself? “I mean,” you say, trying to appear somewhat patient, “yeah.” 
“Well, go ahead and get that out of your head right now,” Sirius nearly laughs. “There’s no way that’s happening today, sweetness.” 
“What’s not happening?” Remus asks, uncapping a water bottle before passing it to you. 
“She thinks she’s going back to work,” Sirius says wryly. 
Remus looks at you, appalled. You only shrug, sipping at your water.
“You can’t work after a fainting spell like that. Especially not as dehydrated as you are—your body needs rest.” He shakes his head at you. “You can either get it at home or come with us to the hospital.” 
You roll your eyes, re-capping the half-drained water bottle. “That’s so dramatic.” 
“No, I’m the dramatic,” Sirius corrects you. “Remus is the reasonable one, which is how you know he’s right. Those are your options, dollface.”
You huff. “Fine, then can one of you go tell my manager that? I don’t want to be blamed for skipping the rest of my shift.” 
“You’re not skipping anything,” Sirius says, standing. “I’ll go, I’ve got some things to say to him anyway.” He cracks his knuckles, and you look to James in alarm. 
He leaps up, catching up to Sirius in a few long strides and nudging him back towards you. “I’ve got it, Pads. Why don’t you make sure she finishes that water bottle?” 
“Fine.” Sirius stomps his way back to you. “But make him answer for sending her outside to sit on the curb.”
“Please don’t!” you call after James.
Sirius’ gaze narrows, flicking between you and the water bottle beside you expectantly. “Drink.” 
“Fine, sheesh.” You pick it up and twist off the cap. Remus chuckles, picking up your half-melted bag of ice to hold it against your head for you. “Isn’t it, like, your job to be nice to people when they’re injured?” 
“I thought you weren’t injured?” Remus hums. You shoot him a look that’s meant to be intimidating, but his lips twitch upwards. “Relax, love, we’re just worried about you.”
Well, it’s hard to be mad at that. “Thanks,” you say quietly. 
Sirius resumes his crouch in front of you, taking one of your knees in each hand and squeezing lightly. “We get off in a few hours,” he says. “Would it be okay if we came by for dinner? We can bring takeout or something.” 
You lower the water bottle, looking at him with interest. Your day has suddenly taken a positive turn. “Yeah, that sounds great.” 
“Good.” He smiles, leaning forward to kiss you on the cheek. “Now be a good girl and finish your water.” 
You flush instantly, and Remus’ head swivels as if to make sure no one is nearby to have heard him. “Sirius,” you hiss, “I’m at work!”
His grin sharpens. “Not anymore, you’re not.” 
1K notes · View notes
Text
Saffy Lemur's Call of Duty Masterlist
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Last updated: 20.12.2023
A/N: Per a few requests, I’ve redone my masterlist to make it easier to navigate the fic categories 💕😊 Original Masterlist
💕💕💕Welcome!!!!💕💕💕
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Simon "Ghost” Riley-
Smut Blurbs
Simon Exploring Choking Kink
Simon And Throat F*cking
Soap And Ghost Threesome
Using Simon To Get Off
Reunion Sex With Simon
Simon Realizing He Has A Daddy Kink
Simon With A Breeding Kink
Late Nights
You're a Minx, You Know That?
You're Mine
Crying During Sex With Simon Riley
Simon And Yours First Time Having Sex
Simon Riley Doesn't Fuck You, He Worships You
Simon's C*ck Being Nearly Too Big For You
Simon And Jealous Sex
Simon Loving The Sight Of You Being F*cked By Him
Simon Letting You Use Him To Forget About Your Bad Day
Simon Sharing You With Johnny
Simon Is a Giver In Bed
Angst Blurbs
You Can't Leave Me
Dreams
I've Got You, Kid
Simon Wanting To Break Up With You Because He Thinks You Deserve Better
Simon Can't Sleep Alone Without You After A Fight
Simon Having A Nightmare About Losing You
Simon Pushing You Away After A Night Together
Fluff Blurbs
Simon telling you he loves you for the first time
Simon Attempting To Cook For Date Night
Simon Riley Showing You His Face For The First Time
Simon Realizing He Has Fallen For You
Simon's Love Language
Simon Coming Home For Good
"I Do"
Asking Simon What His Biggest Regret Is With You
Simon Loves His Wedding Band
Simon Riley And His Kisses
Simon Excited To Call You After A Long Day
Simon Seeing His Family's First Holiday Ornament
Simon Coming Home To You
First Date With Simon
Simon Waking Up Next To You
Simon Comforting You During A Funk
Simon Telling You He Loves You For The First Time
Wanting Simon's Attention While He's Working
Simon Being Scared to Love You
Dad! Simon Blurbs
Simon's Daughter Introducing Him To Her Class
Simon And His Daughter At The Park
Simon's soft moment with his baby girl
Simon's Daughter and Wife Welcoming Him Home On The Tarmac After A Mission
Simon Doing His Daughter's Hair For The First Time
Simon And His Daughter Who Had A Nightmare
Simon Introducing 141 To His Family
Simon Meeting His Newborn For The First Time
Random One- Shots
Soap, The Matchmaker
I'll Take the Big Blue One!
Innate Desire to Protect
Innate Desire to Protect Part 2
Teach Me How To Ride?
Date With Your Lieutenant
Words of Wisdom
What's Your Favorite Color? (Part 2 to Words of Wisdom)
Simon's Bundle of Joy
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141 Boys and Others Multi- Character Fics
Smut
141 + König & Alejandro With Reader Surprising Them With Lingerie
141 + König x Fem! Reader Going Down On Them
141 + König & Alejandro Eating Their Fem! Partner Out
141 + König Breaking their GN! Partners Bed
141 + König With Fem!Reader Riding Them
141 + König + LV Cumming Too Quick
141 + König Where Reader Asks Them For A Baby
141 + König Where They Hurt The Reader During Sex
141 + König Where The Reader Squirts For The First Time
141 + König Where Reader Accidentally Calls Them Daddy In Bed
Losing Your Virginity To 141 + König
141 + LV & König Begging Fem! Reader to Sit On Their Face
Giving 141 Boys Roadhead
Fluff
141 + König With Reader Who is a Major Cuddlebug
141 + LV & König x Reader, Where You Don't Say I Love You Back
141 + König x Reader's First Kiss
141 + König x GN Reader When You Slap/Grab Their Ass Playfully
141 + Konig Telling the Reader They Love Them for The First Time
141 + König & Alejandro With A GN! Reader Who Dodges a Kiss
141 + König Where The Reader Wipes Off Their Kiss
Catching 141 + König By Surprise With A Kiss
Angst
141 With Reader Who Uses Their Callsign in Emergency Situation
141 + König Where Fem! Reader Gets Jealous/Insecure
141 + König Reacting To Reader Having A Breakdown From Past Trauma
141 + König Rejecting Reader, Then Regretting It
141 + König Telling Reader They Hate Them In An Arguement
141 + König Crying In Front Of Reader For First Time
Headcannons
141+ Alejandro, Rudy, and Konig w/ Pregnant Reader Headcannons
141 + Königs Favorite Positions / How They Enjoy Sex HC's
141 + König Fluff Headcannons
Other
Ghost/Soap/König's Reaction to Reader Pouring Salt in Their Coffee
How the 141 Boys + König react to the reader getting an epidural
141 + König with a Reader Who Sneezes are Loud as Shit
141 + König Where The Reader Finds Out She's Having Twins
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As always, my inbox is always open for requests/questions/feedback! :)
2K notes · View notes
hisui-dreamer · 11 months
Text
love will find a way
Characters: Riddle, Deuce, Azul, Vil
Synopsis: You shared a night of passion with your lover before you left for the other side of the mirror, but fate's cruel hands strike once again as you realise you have to raise his child alone in your original world. Thankfully, your child is incredibly drawn to magic, and they opened a portal...?
Tags: slight angst, fluffy end because im a sap, fem reader, reader gives birth to a child, reunions, bot proofread
Word count: 3.6k+
Notes: for cohesiveness sake, all the name ideas are in japanese. if it makes you uncomfortable, you can imagine that reader is japanese hehe
Part 1✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist
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A few months passed as you settled back into your routine at home. Eventually, with the noticeable changes in your body, it dawned on you that you were with child—his child, your lover from the other side of the mirror whom you could no longer reach.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months. You had adapted to the trials and tribulations of parenthood. Juggling the responsibilities of work, childcare, and household chores was no easy feat, but you found solace in the small moments of your child's growth and development.
Your child was a true joy to behold, a mirror image of their father in many ways, and you often see the ghost of your past lover in them. Having inherited his magic, your child experimented with their powers, leaving you to support them with what limited knowledge of magic that remained from your NRC days.
On one such experiment, your environment started to shift as a wave of magical energy engulfed you. When you opened your eyes again, he was there, right in front of you—
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Yoshikazu (義和) with 義 meaning "righteous" and 和 meaning "harmony, peace"
your son had straight strawberry-red hair and greyish-blue eyes that reminded you of the stormy skies
Riddle's strong belief in upholding the rules, as well as his desire for peace and order, made the name perfect for your boy
he strives for perfection in everything he does, and has a strong attention to detail and dislikes anything that falls short of his high standards
he is slightly shy with strangers, but he's always polite and tries to be helpful
he likes to act mature so you won’t have to worry too much about him, but he not so secretly craves your affection and praise
if you don’t give him a goodnight kiss, he’ll stare at you with puppy eyes thinking he did something wrong
under your guidance, he’s actually rather helpful in the kitchen, although he can easily get upset when he thinks he did a poor job or wasn’t precise enough
in those moments, you often show him that not everything has to be absolutely perfect
see? the strawberry tart still tastes delicious, right?
he’s also rather quick at learning, and when you’re unsure about the magic concepts or formulae in your foggy memory, let him work at it for a bit and somehow, boom, he’s solved it
he tries to hide it, but his eyes are sparkling with admiration when you told him about the dedicated and fair man Riddle is, and he really wants to meet him
and through his hard work, he teleports the two of you into a well-lit and organised office, with stacks of papers placed neatly on the desk
Riddle sits at the desk, his face more angular having lost his baby fat, but his gaze remained as intense as it always had
Riddle meticulously reviews a case file, his focus unwavering as he flips through the pages. Suddenly, a swirl of iridescent light materialises in the corner of the room, catching his attention. He pushes himself away from the desk, knocking his chair backwards with a thud as he stands up, watching in disbelief as you emerge from the ethereal portal, a small boy clinging onto you tightly.
"My Rose…is it...is it truly you?" Riddle's voice wavers with a combination of astonishment and longing. His stormy grey eyes lock onto your gaze, searching for confirmation that this was indeed real.
His heart swells with a surge of emotions, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He takes hesitant steps forward, closing the distance between you. As he reaches out a trembling hand, he hesitates for a fraction of a second before wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace, pulling you close.
"I've missed you so much," Riddle whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I've yearned for this moment, to hold you again, to see your face."
after the heartfelt reunion, Riddle leaves work early and takes a holiday, something he has never done before for reasons other than sickness
he takes the two of you back to his house and you spend some time catching up
he’s become a successful lawyer, having deviated from the path his mother had intended for him
that, along with his refusal to be in an arranged marriage by her will, has him basically disowned
but he’s happy with where he is in life, only he wished to find a love as fulfilling as the one he had with you
now that you’re back, Riddle does everything he can to support you in adjusting to life back with him
he’s super expressive and affectionate and savours every moment he has with you
he does get a little jealous of Yoshikazu getting all your affection, and this has resulted in all three of you sleeping together cuddled up
Riddle tries to learn how to cook because he can’t be worse than his son right??
wrong
but the two of them do get along really well, Riddle loves reading bedtime stories to Yoshikazu, and Yoshikazu tries so hard to stay awake till the end
Yoshikazu also loves visiting uncle trey’s bakery!
eventually, he might try to reconcile with his mother and have her meet the two of you, but his priority is on the two of you
Riddle's eyes show a mix of emotions, a kaleidoscope of love, regret, and gratitude. He bends down, his hands trembling, to meet Yoshikazu's gaze. A cascade of emotions surges through him as he realises the precious bond he had unknowingly missed out on.
"My child," Riddle whispers, his voice filled with awe and wonder. "I never imagined..."
Yoshikazu reaches out a tiny hand, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Riddle's heart melts as he gingerly takes his hand, feeling an overwhelming wave of love and protectiveness.
"Father?" Yoshikazu's voice was a gentle whisper, filled with innocence and trust.
Riddle's eyes shimmer with tears that threaten to spill over. He carefully extends his hand, allowing his small fingers to intertwine with his own.
"Yes," Riddle replies, his voice overflowing with tenderness. "I am honoured to be your father. I will protect you, guide you, and cherish you always, my precious bud."
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Koushi (功志) with 功 meaning "a success, a great achievement" and 志 meaning "purpose, will, determination, aspiration, ambition"
your son had sleek dark hair that reminded you of the night sky, and bright cyan eyes
Deuce placed great importance on personal growth and the pursuit of success, valuing hard work and the satisfaction that comes from achieving one's goals, so you implemented those values into your son's name
he takes his tasks and activities seriously and is motivated to excel in everything he does
but at the same time, he also struggles with being patient and occasionally becomes frustrated when things don't go his way
there are many times you’re trying to console him, and he’s just standing there, fists clenched and trying to hold back tears
when you rub the back of his head though, he melts and starts crying into your chest
he can be impulsive and mischievous, but once the high passes, he’s apologising and he really didn’t mean to hurt anyone or anything
just like his father, his favourite food is egg dishes, so it’s not difficult cooking for him
generally, he’s not picky and gobbles up anything you make him except vegetables
yeahh, the vegetables are going to need some convincing, and he’ll make a big show about how he hates the taste, but still reluctantly swallows his greens
he’s not the brightest, but he strives to be the best he can be, eagerly practising and studying magic concepts, though he faces some challenges in grasping complex concepts quickly
he became so curious when you told him how much his father valued hard work, asking question after question to learn more about him
and through trial and error, somehow, he managed to teleport you to a street of residential buildings, the fresh scent of roses filling your senses
and Deuce stood in shock in front of you, looking more mature and yet still possessing that dorky lovable presence
Deuce, donned in his crisp uniform, patrols the streets with a focused gaze. As he turns a corner, his eyes widen and his heart skips a beat. There, before him, stands the silhouette of a familiar figure, obscured by the shimmering waves of nostalgia, accompanied by a small boy.
"Prefect… I’m not dreaming, am I?" Deuce murmurs, his voice tinged with disbelief and a touch of vulnerability. His pulse quickens, and he takes a tentative step forward, his hands trembling with both trepidation and longing.
Tears well up in his eyes as you nod, a mixture of emotions playing across your face. The weight of your absence suddenly lifts, and without a second thought, Deuce closes the distance between you, his arms enveloping you in a tight embrace.
"You're here. You're really here," Deuce whispers, his voice choked with emotion. He presses his forehead against yours, savouring the moment and the warmth of your presence.
once Deuce has calmed down, he takes you back to his house, where he lives with his mom to take care of her more
Deuce has become a successful police officer, and he’s decided to work in his hometown to keep the neighbourhood safe for his mom
after a quick introduction to Mrs. Spade, she’s very happy to meet you and her grandson
though she does glare at Deuce for a bit given you had to raise Koushi alone
she immediately starts gushing over Koushi and how similar he is to Deuce when he was a kid
Koushi is a little confused, but you can tell he loves listening to his grandmother and hearing about his father as an infant
Deuce can’t just leave his job whenever he wants to, but he dedicates all of his free time to the two of you
after work, he’ll take Koushi on runs, and sometimes they’ll pick a bouquet of wildflowers from a nearby field to give to you and Mrs. Spade
on weekends, you often go on family outings, like visiting the aquarium, camping, or visiting old friends!
uncle ace is Koushi’s favourite, teaching him magic tricks and telling him all the embarrassing things Deuce did back in NRC
and though Deuce had never prepared himself for parenting, he’s doing his best and making sure the two of you are happy, just like he is with the family all together
Deuce breaks the embrace and drops to one knee, his eyes meeting the Koushi's. A mixture of awe and tenderness dances in his gaze as he extends a hand toward the small boy. "Hey there, little guy. I'm your dad. My name's Deuce. What’s your name?" he asks, his voice gentle.
Koushi steps forward, hesitantly reaching out to grasp Deuce's hand. "Koushi," he answers meekly. A spark of connection passes between them, a shared understanding and an unspoken bond.
Tears stream down his cheeks as he continues, his voice filled with a mix of joy and remorse. "Koushi, I'm sorry it took me so long, to be the father you deserved. But from this moment on, I promise you, I'll be there for every step of your journey. We'll make up for lost time together, yeah?"
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Akuru (渥瑠) with 渥 meaning "kindness, moisten" and 瑠 meaning "lapis lazuli"
your daughter had clear aquamarine eyes that reminded you of the sparkling ocean, and silver locks that curled naturally to frame her face
Azul had always adhered to the spirit of benevolence, so the name seemed perfect
she's quite a shy little girl, when she's in front of strangers, she'll ask you to carry her so she can hide her face in your neck
there's no way you can resist when she's staring at you with such bright eyes, her tiny arms reaching up for you to hold her
she's extremely greedy for affection just like Azul was once he let his guard down around you
she has the squishiest cheeks!!!
she also tends to observe and listen rather than being the centre of attention
but when she's alone with you, it's evident she inherited Azul's sharp intellect and has a natural aptitude for academics
you often told her about the brilliant man her father is, how hard he worked so he could become a version of himself he was proud of
the way her eyes sparkled when she heard about him reminded you of Azul's ambitious looks when he's making deals
incredibly talented at magic, she understood everything so quickly and it wasn't too long until you couldn't be much help to her anymore
but worry not, because she has brought the two of you back to your dearest lover by some accident in her experiments
Azul is sitting in a dimly lit office, his dark eye circles are evident, but he looked more beautiful than you had ever seen him
Azul sits at his desk fully engrossed in work, his quill gliding swiftly across the parchment. A sudden gust of magic sweeps through the air, causing Azul to stand in alarm, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger. But as the magical energy settles, his hand freezes mid-air, his eyes widening in disbelief as your figure emerges.
His breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. "It... can't be... Can it?", he whispers as he manoeuvres himself over to you, his legs trembling as if it was his first time on land.
You reach out to take his hand, your familiar warmth and presence casting away the doubt in him. His eyes well up with tears, and a radiant smile spreads across his face.
"Oh, Angelfish... You're here...", he cries as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you.
he's so emotional he can't stop crying
it's to the point where his tears are slightly inky
he wishes he was in his merform so he could hug the two of you properly at the same time
it's at this point jade and floyd bust into the room to see the three of you huddled together on the floor
the two of them start teasing Azul for being a crybaby, but you can tell they're genuinely happy for him
Azul, as he had planned back in NRC, had conquered all forms of business, forming an incredibly successful corporation
now that he has the two of you back though, he immediately takes a break from work so he can make up for the time lost
Azul's a bit awkward, and he's so afraid you've found someone new or don't love him anymore
but with time, and plenty of your affection, he's loving and comfortable and completely at ease with you, just like the old days
he uses this break to spend time together with you two as a family, going on family outings, discovering hobbies, etc.
takes the two of you to the coral sea to meet mama ashengrotto
oh she loves you and can't stop spoiling Akuru
he makes a lot of effort to be present in Akuru's life, and he wants nothing more than for her to be happy
and fortunately, Akuru is very comfortable with Azul, though it takes time for her to trust him on the same level as you
but you've got all the time in the world to love and grow with your dear family now
bonus: uncle jade and uncle floyd who always bring out the ambitious side of Akuru!
Azul's breath catches in his throat as he looks down at the small girl peeking from behind your legs, his heart swelling with a love he had never thought possible. Akuru's innocent eyes meet his, mirroring his own shades of blue.
"Hello, Akuru," he whispers, his voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and awe. He crouches down to her level, his eyes locked with hers. "I... I'm your father. It’s nice to meet you."
Akuru's small hand reaches out, hesitantly brushing against his cheek. The touch sends shivers down Azul's spine, his heart bursting with overwhelming emotions. Tears spill freely down his cheeks as his arms wrap around her fragile frame.
"I've missed so much... I'm so sorry," Azul says, his voice laced with remorse. Akuru nestles closer, burying her face in the crook of Azul's neck, as if instinctively seeking solace in the embrace of her father. "Oh, I promise you, my dear, I will make up for lost time. I will protect you, love you, and be the father you deserve."
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Misaki (望咲) with 望 meaning "ambition, hope, desire" and 咲 meaning "bloom, blossom, flourish"
your daughter had silky blonde, hair and violet eyes reminded you of the lavender plant Vil kept in his room
you knew through Vil's dedication towards beauty and his strictness that he values hard work and effort, and so you named your daughter hoping she would flourish in whatever ambitions she pursued
like her father, she carries herself with a certain regal air that’s beyond her age
she's incredibly strict with herself, though occasionally you'll have to tell her to relax a bit and be more carefree
she listens to you a lot though, she loves making her mommy proud!
and though she might put up a front and act confident with strangers, when she's alone with you, she's surprisingly docile and affectionate
she is enchanted by the media and drawn to acting, always reenacting scenes from movies or shows you watched with her
she asks for bedtime stories every night, but it’s more of the two of you doing a dramatic reading and playing around with character voices
she also loves to play around with different hairstyles and outfits, and even experimenting with your makeup
though she’s rather displeased with her lacklustre makeup skills, she loves it when you do her makeup for her, making her feel like a star
she’s incredibly smart and fast to pick up on the magical concepts, though she’s slower with practical magic
when you told her about the meticulous and dedicated man her father was, she was fascinated by how confident and strong he sounded
and with diligent practice, it isn’t long before she manages to teleport you to a well-lit room with a modern design
Vil is sitting on the couch studying his latest movie, his hair is in a messy bun and he is wearing glasses and he is the most beautiful person you have ever seen
As Vil stares at the television analysing his performance, the tranquillity of the moment is abruptly shattered by a sudden burst of light. His heart skips a beat as he turns towards the source, his eyes widening in disbelief. There, standing before him, is the person who had occupied his thoughts and dreams for the past years, with a sweet-looking child next to them.
"Is it really you, darling?" His voice trembles with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy. He takes a hesitant step forward, his polished facade momentarily crumbling as he reaches out to confirm the reality of your presence.
Your eyes meet, and in that instant, a whirlwind of emotions surged through his being, threatening to overwhelm his senses. He swallows hard, trying to compose himself.  "It's... it's been so long," Vil's voice cracks with raw emotion, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I've missed you every day, every moment."
Vil is the most emotional you’ve ever seen him, even when you had bid each other farewell at the mirror, he had been more composed
but here he’s completely vulnerable and crying tears of joy
once he’s calmed down a bit, he immediately calls his manager to reschedule whatever plans he had because of ‘family emergencies’
since you left, vil has been completely invested in his acting career and has landed a few roles as the main character, though some of them were still villainous
he’s super affectionate and relaxed with you, always instinctively reaching out for you to confirm you’re really there
and he’s super cute with Misaki!! Misaki always goes to him for makeup and styling her hair, but she likes going to you for brushing her hair when it’s tangled
mini drama sessions at home where it’s the three of you playing out scenes from a fairytale
vil is the ‘only the best for my princess’ type of father
he’s very careful with outings so the paparazzi or the media won't just sabotage your family dates, he’s determined to spend quality time with his two darlings
takes you to meet papa schoenheit, who adores you for making vil so happy, and absolutely spoils Misaki with clothes and accessories
you’ll have to be the strict parent to make sure she’s not too spoiled
not to mention uncle rook who absolutely worships the ground she walks on and cannot resist her requests
Vil's gaze flickers to the child standing beside you, her innocent eyes mirroring his own. A rush of emotions washes over him, as he finally comprehends the magnitude of the moment. His voice trembles with tenderness as he kneels down, extending a hand towards her. "Is this... our child?" His voice holds a hint of awe and wonder, his heart swelling with a newfound sense of purpose.
Misaki's eyes widen, taking a tentative step forward to try and comprehend this newfound connection. "Are you like the daddies in the shows that come back to the family?" she asks, her voice tinged with innocence and wonder.
A brief look of confusion flashes by, before a warm smile graces Vil's lips as he reaches out, gently brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Yes, darling," he whispers, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and determination. "I am here now, and I promise I'll never leave you. I will be there for you, guide you, and cherish every moment we share, just like the fathers in the shows."
Part 1✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist
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favoniuscodex · 1 year
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guardian angel [ genshin scenarios ]
summary: overprotectiveness isn't the cutest, but it's endearing to know that your boyfriend has your best interests in mind (aka instances where the boys are (healthily) protective of you).
characters: alhaitham, childe, cyno, diluc, xiao w/ a gn!reader
warnings: implied catcalling/harassment (alhaitham), intimidation (childe), exhaustion (cyno), minor injuries (diluc), threat of hilichurl attack (xiao). no angst endings.
word count: 3.4k
a/n: this one won the poll, so it's first up! hope u enjoy! thanks to @/spiriteddreams reading over alhaitham's part for me beforehand!!!
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-- alhaitham --
Alhaitham enjoys sticking to routines. Thus, when you disrupt his routine of meeting him after work in order to walk home together, he is annoyed, but his brain is quick to rationalize it. They are probably just busy with work or they left work early, Alhaitham justifies. However, there is a less rational part of him that gnaws at his sanity, telling him that something is wrong.
He takes his usual path home, making it only a short distance before he feels arms wrap around his waist. Alhaitham stiffens in response to the sudden touch. But, as he looks down and realizes its just you, mouthing words that he can't hear due to the music playing through his headphones, Alhaitham pauses his music. He pushes one of his earpieces off his ear in order to hear you properly and parts his lips to speak, but an unfamiliar voice cuts through your reunion with Alhaitham.
"Look, he didn't even respond to your greeting," a man proclaims far too haughtily and assuming for Alhaitham's liking. "That's not your boyfriend. But it's okay, sweetheart, I can make sure you're not singl-"
Alhaitham doesn't have time for this nonsense. Don't get him wrong -- he has all the time in the world for you and anything you're excited about, but your distressed expression at the man's words has Alhaitham protectively wrapping an arm around you before turning around to face the mystery man obviously provoking you.
"Are you calling my partner a liar?" Alhaitham immediately challenges, narrowed eyes sharpening the intensity of his multicolored glare. Your harasser blinks a few times, slowly coming to a fearful recognition of who Alhaitham is.
"My apologies, Acting Grand Sag-" the man begins.
"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to them."
"I am sorry!" the man cries, but Alhaitham can't quite be bothered to hear the man grovel for forgiveness. Alhaitham looks down at you, deciding to let you make the call.
"Would you prefer for me to handle this or would you rather just go home?" Alhaitham asks you softly, looking at you over his shoulder. "I am content with either option."
"Um," you begin, peering around Alhaitham to glance at the man once more, who seems to be trying not to collapse in fear. "Just... Let's just go home. He won't mess with me again, and I'm hungry."
An affectionate, soft smile appears on Alhaitham's face at your words as he realizes you're just as attached to your little routines with him as he is. Thus, with all the venom he can muster in his expression, he turns back to the nervous man.
"If I see you anywhere around here again, I will ensure that you will be dealt with swiftly," Alhaitham promises, and the man nods before scampering off like a coward. As soon as the man is out of sight, Alhaitham sighs and grabs your hand. The action sends your heart aflutter, due to Alhaitham not frequently initiating public displays of affection.
"Are you alright?" He asks, using a gentle voice you don't hear all too often from him. You nod, and he smiles softly once more before giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "Very well then. If anyone else tries to make trouble for you, let me know and I'll handle it."
"Wow," you breathe teasingly. "Alhaitham willingly taking on extra work?"
Alhaitham sighs, but you notice the way a smirk threatens to flash across his features at your playful words.
"I'd work forever if it meant you'd be happy," Alhaitham says, and you playfully place your free hand over your heart, pretending to swoon.
"I think that's the most romantic thing you've ever said," you say with a giggle, relishing in the way Alhaitham rolls his eyes at your words.
"Let's go home. I have biryani planned for dinner."
"Biryani? I changed my mind -- that's the most romantic thing you've ever said."
You get a rare chuckle out of Alhaitham as he guides you home, walking close to you and protectively holding onto your hand tightly in case any more trouble comes along for the two of you.
-- childe --
"Pardon me for interrupting," a silky voice croons from behind where you and Childe stand. "I was hoping to have a word with our dearest Tartaglia."
Childe's grip on your hand tightens as his playful expression turns steely at the sound of the voice. He gives you a cautious glare, before plastering the fakest smile you've ever seen on his face.
"Give me a moment, babe," he murmurs lowly to you, practically speaking through gritted teeth, before turning to face a man you've never seen before. Of course, arriving at Zapolyarny Palace on the Tsaritsa's request practically demanded that you would meet new people, but few were able to evoke such a strong reaction from Childe like this man was.
The stranger adjusts his silver-framed glasses and smiles sweetly at you.
"Apologies for my rudeness, I do not believe we have met," he says, eerily reminding you of a viper waiting to strike. "I am Pantalone, ninth of the Fatui Harbingers. And you are..?"
You look over at Childe, who glances at you out of the side of his eye. You respond curtly, giving the man just your first name, and he laughs.
"I understand your hesitation to divulge answers, but your relationship with Tartaglia is quite evident already. Any other information I wish to find out about you I can do so with ea-"
"Spit it out, Pantalone. What do you want?" Childe asks, and you wonder if your boyfriend has lost his mind at how rudely he is speaking to his superior. However, Pantalone seems to pay it no mind, finding the conversation all the more amusing.
"My my, you're much more friendly Pulcinella and Capitano than you are with me. How tragic. I simply wished to discuss finances with you. Is that such a crime?"
Tartaglia blinks at him, taking a slight step forward and sheltering part of your frame behind him.
"We can discuss it at the Fatui meeting tomorrow. Considering you're a higher rank than me, you shouldn't require my input," Childe says, and Pantalone laughs once more. It is a dry type of laugh, as if he's never really found anything funny in his life. A conniving smile spreads across Pantalone's face once more.
"I see that you are on the defensive because of the company you currently keep. No worries. We can discuss our matters tomorrow," Pantalone says. He turns around and takes a few steps, before looking over his shoulder at the two of you. Tartaglia's hand moves from holding your own to wrapping protectively around your waist. Your lover straightens his posture, ready for a challenge, but Pantalone simply smiles eerily once more.
"I would be careful about who you show affection with in the Palace," Pantalone warns.
This time, it is your lover's turn to grin widely at his opponent across the hall.
"That's alright. I can fight," Tartaglia promises with an edge to his voice that you rarely hear. Pantalone's expression warps indecipherably at Childe's words. The ninth Harbinger shakes his head before turning and walking away, leaving you and Childe alone in the hall once more.
With his arm still on your waist, Childe leans over and presses a quick kiss to your forehead and smiles down at you.
"If any other Harbingers try to intimidate you, let me know and I'll handle it."
You stare at your lover, narrowing your eyes. "How would you handle it?"
Childe laughs softly. "I wouldn't want to ruin your stellar image of me, would I? Now, c'mon, let's go. This place is eerie."
-- cyno --
"You need to rest."
Your boyfriend's figure looms over your own tired one, multiplying the amount of relieving shade that covers your body. Despite Cyno's order for rest, your pride gets the best of you as you dismissively swat a hand through the air.
"I'm fine," you insist.
"You can barely walk. When was the last time you were even in the desert?"
"Is this a setup for a punchline?" You ask. Your voice almost sounds like a croak, straining from a lack of water. Cyno is quick to respond, pulling his own canteen off his belt and handing it over to you.
"No. It's me caring about you, that's what it is," Cyno crouches down to meet you at eye level. "Drink."
"This is your water. You need it. I'm not drinking it," you say stubbornly and Cyno sighs before pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.
"I know the desert well enough to know how to ration my water. I also know it well enough to tell you when to rest and when to drink. Go ahead. I'll be fine."
You narrow your eyes at him, not moving the canteen to your lips. Cyno sighs before plopping down in the shade-cooled sand next to you. In the distance, you watch waves of heat warp the sand dunes on the horizon, and you wonder if you're in over your head. You'll never admit that though. The last thing you wanted was to slow down Cyno on your trip to the desert, but here you are, struggling to bear the heat.
Cyno sits with you in silence for a moment, before splitting the quiet with another question.
"People often say my humor is dry," Cyno says plainly. "But I think it's only dry when it's in the desert."
A small giggle escapes your lips at the awful pun, and Cyno smiles slightly. Cyno looks over at you. He pointedly looks at the canteen in your hands before flickering his piercing gaze up to you. Despite his best attempt, Cyno can't bring himself to stare at you with the same intimidating gaze he uses for criminals. When he clears his throat to speak once more, you interrupt him by lifting the water to your lips, taking a few sips before handing it back to him.
"I can carry you until we reach an oasis. There should be one not too far away, if we're lucky," Cyno offers, and you giggle at his offer. At your laughter, Cyno raises an eyebrow questioningly. You lean forward, hugging your knees close to your chest and smiling at him.
"What's so funny?" Cyno says, and you beam at him.
"Nothing. You're just cute when you're worried about me."
Cyno's eyes widen, before he decides to study the sand instead of your eyes. You watch as his fingers twitch slightly in the sand as he thinks of the words to say.
"'Cute' isn't exactly how most people describe me," Cyno mutters. In your heat-addled haze, you only grin wider at him before closing his canteen and handing it back to him, drawing his attention once more.
"Well, you're cute to me, even if others can't see it," you say. Despite the warmth of your body, you still reach out to grab his hand, lacing your fingers through his.
"Can we rest for a bit here?" You ask sheepishly. "I'm a bit worried I won't be able to walk far if we get up now."
Cyno nods at your words. "Of course. The last thing I want is to overwork yourself. It's okay if we work at different paces - I'll wait for you as long as you need."
Your heart melts at his honest words, so you scoot over to him before laying down in the sand, holding out your arm for him to rest with you. However, he shakes his head, electing to hold your hand instead.
"I'll watch over you while you sleep. Right now, it's my duty to keep you safe."
-- diluc --
"It's just a scratch, 'Luc," you say to the broad-shouldered man currently fretting over your injuries. "I'll be fine, I just need a bandage."
Diluc glares at you with as much vitriol as he can muster towards you -- which isn't much. You're unsure if this type of glare from him would even scare one of the bunnies on the Dawn Winery grasses outside. It certainly isn't the same glare he uses for handling criminals and members of the Abyss. Despite Diluc's efforts to seem intimidating, he's never been able to be mean or intimidating towards you. Thus, you giggle at his expression and his brows furrow.
"This is serious, love. You can't keep going out there and getting injured," Diluc grumbles. "Come on, sit on the bathroom counter."
"One of the maids could've helped me, y'know," you say teasingly before hopping up and resting on the cool marble basin, watching as Diluc's cheeks flush with a faint shade of red. "But you're way cuter."
"Stop trying to distract me," Diluc mutters, voice plagued by his easily flustered state.
"Is it working?" You ask, and your lover falls silent. The color of his cheeks synchronizes with his hair as he furrows his brow, focusing on cleaning up the scraped skin on your arm with a clean cloth. You smile softly at him as he works, unaware of your affectionate gaze towards him.
"How did this happen?" Diluc asks after a few moments of silence. His voice warbles slightly, and it takes everything in you not to pull him in for a hug -- it would only upset your injury, which would upset Diluc further in turn. Guilt washes over you at the sadness in his voice, and you use your uninjured arm to lean forward and ruffle his hair affectionately.
"I just tripped on a branch while out trying to collect some berries. Don't worry, it wasn't anything bad, sweetheart. I promise."
Diluc swallows heavily before nodding. Both of you know why seeing you injured affects him so much, but neither of you dare speak of the causation. Instead, you move your free hand from his hair to his cheek, heart melting at the way his face instinctively leans into it. Diluc reaches behind you to pick up the roll of bandages that one of the maids provided.
"Tell me if this hurts, alright? It should be taut, but it should not hurt," Diluc murmurs, voice deep as he begins to wrap the bandages starting at your wrist. You hum in acknowledgement, but Diluc is far too gentle to cause you any pain. He wraps the bandage up perfectly, staring at his handiwork with narrowed eyes before looking up at you.
"It's perfect," you applaud him and, for the first time since you've shown up injured, Diluc smiles softly at you. "You did wonderful. I feel better already."
"If it causes you any issues, please let me know." He says hurriedly, and you sigh, causing him to look at confusion. You smile wearily at him.
"C'mere," you urge, moving your hand from his cheek towards his tie. Loosely, you grip the knot of the fabric, urging his face towards yours. Your lips meet Diluc's in a loving kiss. You can tell he's caught off guard by it as you hear the hasty slap of his hand against the marble counter behind you as he regains his balance, leaning further into the kiss. Diluc's other hand reaches forward to curl around your cheek and jaw, calloused fingertips delicately gliding against your skin like a restorationist carefully brushing a piece of fine art.
Diluc is a man of quiet intensity, preferring to show his devotion to you through actions rather than words. As he kisses you in this moment, the reverent movement of his lips tells you over and over how much he adores you. The worried tension eases out of his shoulders as he melts into you, parting only when the two of you need to catch your breath. You use this opportunity to press your forehead to Diluc's, staring at him in the eyes.
"'Luc, I'm not going anywhere." You reach up and cradle his hand closer to your face. "I promise."
Diluc's thumb brushes gently back and forth on your cheekbone as he mulls over words to say.
"I know," he sighs, before sounding more firm in his words. "I know. I trust you. I love you."
-- xiao --
You've never been happier to have your boyfriend accompany you on an expedition. Adventurer's Guild commissions were at an all-time high, but danger was also at an unprecedented level. For reasons still unknown to the Guild, Treasurer Hoarder activity was at an unusual high, which made transporting goods and completing commissions that much more difficult.
Plus, it wasn't that often that you got to see Xiao. Warmer months are approaching, which means monster activity will increase, along with the need for commissions. Sure, the two of you would still meet at Wangshu Inn, but your relationship with the adeptus is still rather unconventional. After all, you knew from the start that Xiao wasn't the type of guy who would take you to fancy dinners at Xinyue Kiosk.
Rather, the two of you were perfectly content with eating dinner together on the Wangshu Inn balcony whenever the weather was nice and your schedules coincided. 'Dates' were a foreign concept to Xiao, and you didn't want to urge him out of his comfort zone by surrounding him with other humans. Thus, you found enjoyment in the fact that Xiao was willing to help you with this commission -- it was a more unique date for the two of you.
Yet, as the two of you head north to Qingce Village on a trodden dirt path, Xiao is quick to wrap his arms around you, pinning your hands to your sides and clutching you close.
"Xi-" you begin, but you're cut off by the stomach-whirling sensation of teleporting away. The two of you touch the ground almost instantaneously, but you're left reeling and dazed, not used to the feeling of teleportation. The two of you are now stationed in a cave, and you have no clue how far you've gone.
"What? Aren't you not supposed to teleport me like that?" You breathe, mind still spinning with confusion and disorientation, but Xiao silences you with a finger to his lips. With a single swipe of his hand, his mask reappears on his face, and he's quick to summon his spear.
"Wait here."
You watch, dumbfounded, as your lover teleports away, leaving you alone. Xiao wasn't the type to leave you stranded without good reason, so you sigh and make yourself comfortable on the stone ground of the cave, waiting for him to return.
Minutes later, the yaksha returns. The tip of his spear is stained with something, but you figure it's probably better if you don't pay too much attention to that.
"You are bad at watching the surroundings," Xiao says, looking down at you before wiping his mask away. You look up at him, blinking slowly.
"Wow, thanks," you say sardonically, and Xiao tilts his head, not fully used to human sarcasm.
"There were hilichurls following us," Xiao says, sitting down besides you on the cave floor. "They unsheathed an arrow, so I teleported us away."
"Oh," you say as a devious thought pops into your mind. "Thanks, sweetheart."
At the usage of a pet name, Xiao's face turns scarlet and he looks away from you, flustered. Deciding to make it even worse, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, leaning into him and resting your head on his shoulder.
"What would I ever do without my dashing protector to save me? How may I ever repay my loyal knight?" You giggle while Xiao's eyes widen at your playfully romantic words. "You swept me and my heart off my feet with your heroic ac-"
"Enough." Xiao says, but it comes out less as a firm demand and rather as a sheepish choke of words. "Please."
You giggle once more, memorizing the way the red on his face complements the green in his hair, before leaning in to place a quick kiss on his cheek.
"Thanks for looking out for me, Xiao," you say, teasing tone leaving your voice. Xiao raises his hand to rest on one of the arms you have wrapped around his shoulder, and you feel your heart swell at the rare initiation of physical contact.
"I will always be there when you need me," Xiao vows, and you realize just how far your relationship with the adeptus has come. While he still blushes at your words, he no longer admonishes you for playful romantics and flirty remarks. Instead, he embarrassedly embraces them, while holding you close.
"Good thing I always need you then, huh?" you murmur softly, as if whispering a secret amidst a crowd. The two of you sit alone in the cave for a while longer, and you realize you wouldn't mind spending forever like this, as long as Xiao was by your side, with his eyes fluttered closed in contentment.
5K notes · View notes
r3ynah · 3 months
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THE FAMILY OF BEAUTIES
The girls the boys they all like Carmen.
(In this scenario Carmen is the fentons).
I just want to headcanon, that the Fenton's have a ethereal type of beauty, not sexy or hot. Ethereal, like if you didn't know that they're a family of Mad scientist, a obsessive therapist and a dead boy. they could've passed as deity's.
And the amity park's citizens can and will totally agree, they might've disagree and fight for a lot of things but the only thing they can agree on was the Fenton's was down to earth beautiful.
Like Jack Fenton for example, He has built that can seemingly bench you without any hesitation, but a himbo at heart, the greys of his hair compliments way it mixes with the black hair of his, if Jack isn't in his ghost hunting suit, he is pretty decent when it comes to his fashion sense, When Jazz first brought along her friends, the first thing they asked was if Jack was single, which caused Jazz to smack their heads individually with a newspaper.
And don't get me started with Madeline Fenton, because I cannot stop when it comes to her, My girl with her short straight Reddish-brown hair, looks like a masculine but also feminine beauty, Can and will bench you, if you have any ill intent towards her family, she came from a long line of riches if I say so myself. Tall as fuck, about 6'7 while Jack is 7'0. very elegant when it comes to fighting, that it looks like she's just dancing, Was titled as a Milf by Danny's classmate which made the boy groan in annoyance, Sam and Tucker calls out to Maddie and says "Mother is Mothering", just to get something out of Danny who looks at them with disgust knowing full well what they were trying to do. While Maddie is just happy for the kids to see her as a mother figure.
Now Jazz, My love, my girl. Her long Red hair that came down to her hips, and her blue eyes, made all the girls and boys in her college swoon, with her 6'4 figure she strutted down the halls with confidence, beauty and brains everyone would oh so called it, and her knowledge in martial arts didn't lessen her attractiveness, The humans and ghosts can agree with that delightfully.
And now her dearest sibling Danny, Danny is a nonbinary fuck that can gender envy anyone he meets, that's why he got bullied in the first place, he was too fucking beautiful and handsome at the same time, all the boys and girls of his school have atleast had a crush on him, He was the only cute boy there, what could they do? He stared at them with his icey colored eyes that made their legs tremble from the pressure, and that black hair that always seemed messy but in a good way. It didn't help when he got that lichtenberg scar, that ran up his neck and the side of his face. you should've seen him in P.E cause my guy got everyone staring at him.
And the Fenton family has fashion sense, if they really put their mind and soul into it, everytime they dressed up for a family reunion or just an outing it was a very sweet treat for everyone's eyes. like how it is right now.
The Amity parkers waved goodbye at the Fenton's as they went on and attended a gala they were invited to, it was supposedly because of the sudden rise and popularity of their works and how's it been helping the environment.
One citizen sighed as he looked at the car that family was driving as it slowly became smaller and smaller.
"You think they can handle Gotham, heard nasty thing bout that place." She questioned
"Girl, Gotham should be the one readying to handle them, that family may be beautiful, but their crazy." Her friend's answered
"well that does give them a more attractive look isn't it?"
"I hate how you're right."
__
The Gala the Fenton's went to certainly had an awkward atmosphere when they went inside, all the guest kept staring at them that it was starting to get creepy, did they overdress or underdressed, come on just walk towards start to talk or criticize them, because it's starting to get embarrassing for the family.
Gotham wasn't fucking prepared to meet the Fentons like as in, They had been awestrucked when the family walked in. A very tall man seemingly in his 40's with his hair gelled back, and a suit that fitted him too perfectly, gosh dang, even the homophobic guests couldn't help but stare, And then there was his Wife her straight her was curled and brushed out leaving a wavy effect that compliments her face shape, and that dress she was wearing was utterly gorgeous, fancy but also simple and mature, the heels certainly helped her height more and made her look more intimidating, The ladies blushed when she looks at them and smiles.
And don't get them started with the couples children, who looked adorable and elegant at the same time, The older sister had a aura that says: 'Im in your presence bow down' (And they would've if it was in a more private area due to the paparazzi's out the window). She wore a spaghetti strapped dress that had a slit on either side and was , making it more comfortable to move in for the girl, partnered by a white shawl made of silk, she had heels that also complimented he already tall stature, her hair was tied in a neat bun, with a few strands free to not make her face feel bare. And lastly the youngest everyone assumed, wearing a suit, double-breasted suit that was elegant and sophisticated it matched the way his hair is messed up for him to still look young, he was also wearing a black shawl that had specks of white making it look like stars. The family had a colour scheme of green, that made all gothamites present swoon, Including a certain family of bats.
(I might make a fanart of this later.)
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rageserenity · 1 month
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It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.
For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!
With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)
The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.
Mutual Pining
Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.
2. Alternate Meetings
There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?
3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink
This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!
4. Canon Fix-It
All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.
5. Hurt/Comfort
Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹
6. Canon Compliant
Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!
7. Beach Divorce
Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!
8. Domestics
Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.
9. Found Family
The real heart of x-men!
10. Time Travel
There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.
11. AU
Love a good AU!
12. There Is Only One Bed
Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?
13. Genosha
By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.
14. Declaration(s) of Love
Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?
15. Jealousy
Need I say more.
16. Reunion
These two have absolutely no chill.
17. Soulmates
Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.
18. The DOFP Aircraft
The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?
19. Gay Mutant Road Trip
You already know.
20. Body Swap
SO fun when people have superpowers.
21. First Kiss
When? How? Who initiated it?
22. The Mansion
Mansion!content is a genre of its own.
23. Conflicting Ideology
Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.
24. Sebastian Shaw
A trope unto himself.
25. Team As Matchmaker
They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?
26. Cooking
Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…
27. Hurt No Comfort
Plenty of scope with these two 🥲
28. Growing Old Together
Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!
29. Making Up
*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe
30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know
Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.
I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁
*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)
If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.
Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!
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