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colourstreakgryffin · 4 months

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Hello!

Could I request some hc's for platonic Alastor and Reader where he treats Reader like a little sister?

Y E S! LET’S GOOOOOO! I LOVE ALASTOR! MY DEEREST— sorry. Sorry… I am so excited to finally have a Hazbin Hotel request. Thank you soooooo much, infinite amount of love and support to you, darling! Thank you!

Platonic! Alastor- Hopping Little Heart

“Al… can you just stop it”

You grumble out loud enough to be heard with sharp eyes glaring over your shoulder, annoyed by the constant babying and half-condescending treatment the Radio Demon himself gives you

Alastor, ever since he met you and managed to trick you into giving up your soul to him, treats you like you’re a child under his care. Like you’re an incompetent incapable little girl that he has to take care of as your older brother. It’s annoying, you’re 25 and been in Hell since 1985. Yeah, he’s 33 and been in Hell since 1933 but still. These whole behaviours of his is driving you more crazy than you already are

“Hmm… Let me think over it… I don’t think I will stop brushing your hair, my dear” Alastor hums out in a snarky yet dapper fashion, his transatlantic-accented voice echoey and menacing with the usual radio lace as he continues to brush your hair humming out a old-timey tune under his breath, long sharp fingers holding nice silky strands over his palm. You’re getting ready for a special party Princess Charlie Morningstar is arranging as a celebration for the first client, Sir Pentious, being redeemed. Here is Alastor behaving like you can’t doll yourself up on your own

Sometimes, you seriously think Alastor views you as an eight year old and he’s adopted you as to act like your surrogate older brother-caretaker. He’s overprotective, he shoves you away from arguments as to ‘protect your little ears’, he is quite favouritistic over you that it’s obvious, he gives you all kinds of cute gifts, he lets you touch him when nobody else can. As compared to how he treats Husk and Niffty, the overpowered Overlord treats you much more civil. He does act like a clingy loving boundary-stepping brother, it’s weird…

Even Charlie notices it but nobody really wants to point out, other than Vaggie, how weird it is to see Alastor baby and babytalk you in the Hotel Lobby, with no shame, like you’re five years old. Who would ever think a narcissistic, violent but yet charismatic demon like Alastor could express genuine affection to anybody else? Alastor, in a rather impressively fast pace, ties up your hair in a cute fluffy bun for this upcoming party. As if he’s tied up women’s hair many times over

How about himself? Will he attend this party? No but he’ll go to watch over you, that’s it. He isn’t going to participate in the event, he isn’t on the side of redemption. He’s here for his own amusement and he especially isn’t a fan of get-togethers, even if he behaves and dresses like he attends the most lavish rich parties all the time. He isn’t much of a party man and he just wants to make sure his surrogate little sister isn’t being creeped on

“Look at that, darling. Simple magnificent” You can’t help but roll your eyes at Alastor’s half-praise whilst putting in a nice pair of diamond earrings, himself readjusting your dress so it’s comfortably hugging your body. Hearing the Radio Demon speak in usual half-talking down, babying manner to you, he always does it. On his end, he was admiring how pretty you look when he finished fixing you up. You’re the most pretty girl in this shitty Hotel and he’d love to rub into Vaggie’s face, he is still very annoyed at the Hotel Manager insulting his relationship with you. However, this is too risky, getting into a fight with Vaggie at the party will cause his murderous itch bubble over

And he doesn’t want to be violent or monstrous around his little sister

“Thank you, Al… you know, you can go now. I can walk to the Lobby on my own, I am not five” You’re not very good at expressing your desire for space with this demon, nobody has the confidence to tell Alastor what to do or to fuck off, and Alastor himself has absolutely no grasp on personal space so even when you spell it out for him, he just ignores it. Picking you up from your chair in front of the makeup mirror with zero effort and placing you down before him

All ready, pampered and sparkly to a degree he thought you were outshining the Hotel room’s light, Alastor’s wide sharp toothy grin almost feels less of power and dominance, and more genuine and prideful over… what? Over you?

“My dear. I can’t just let such a precious princess go out there all on her own. Allow me to escort you, as a family member. It’s the least a brother can do” Your suspicions over this Overlord’s intentions towards his brotherly-like affections to you has been confirmed. He does view you as a little sister and whilst his treatment of you, though trying his best to be affectionate and caring that comes off as belittling and bothersome, he doesn’t just view you as another soul to be exploited as to serve him and the Hotel he’s investing in

It’s kinda flattering and you just think for a bit whilst Alastor offers out his arm for you with patient silence and his grin never dying out, blood red eyes still locked on you like a proud older brother. Maybe, you’ve been a bit too harsh to this possibly really lonely deer-featured sinner. Maybe, you can just give him a chance and let this whole surrogate older brother-younger sister bond he is trying to develop with you actually blossom

“Careful of your heels. Don’t want you slipping on the floor. Niffty just waxed them”

A/N: Lmao. Fuck, didn’t read the HCs until after I finished writing. Sorry, hope this is okay!

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the-s1lly-corner · 7 months

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hello hello I hope you're having a wonderful day/night! Request for TADC!!

Okay so jax x bunny y/n? what if y/n was like lola bunny?? I really don't know how to describe her personally so I would base it of like the one from space jam 1? Like the first movie?? (IF yk what I mean😭) And I imaged if y/n was called doll/toots/ect by jax or anyone (like how bugs bunny did to lola in that one sence) she would get the most heaviest thing near them and throw it at jax or like punch him or something!! 😭😭

THATS ALL I COULD IMAGE BUT HAVE FUN WITH THIS IDEA!!😌

Jax x Bunny!reader

Imma admit I'm mostly going off what I heard ab Lola's original personality as well as this ask; typically I would do a quick look over in a fandom wiki (not always reliable, I know) but my eyes feel like they're full of soup (it's getting late 😭😭)

Writing this on mobile! So typos and mistakes are likely to be more.. dudjdkf??

This one is more platonic/neutral since I wasnt entirely sure how to make this romantic! Sorry if that's what you wanted ^^;

This was originally gonna be longer but I'm eepy and tumblr (on mobile) wont let me save half answered asks in my drafts 😭😭

Honestly he LOOOOOVES teasing you and calling you those endearing names, even before you two foster a relationship, if at all (romantic or otherwise)

He thinks your reaction is funny and more often than not he can dodge whatever it is you toss his way (I mean, did you SEE how fast he ran in the pilot?)

Doesnt feel much in regards to you also being a bunny, since he knows it's not your guys' actual.. real bodies, so why would he feel anything about it...?

Actually... he might use that as ammo for teasing you...

"We're like a match made in heaven!" *side steps a flying book shelf*

He uses the names you mentioned in the request but I feel like he would also get very creative/sickeningly sweet with them to further annoy you

"Schnookums" "my pookie wookie bear" "my sweetheart with whipped cream and sztra sprinkles on top", progressively gets more obnoxious

Stuff like that !!

I just imagine you running after him, throwing things at him while he just has this smug look on his face

#tadc x you #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #jax x reader #jax x you #jax imagine

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myosotisa · 10 months

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Hiding Lately - s.h. & e.m.

Eddie Munson x Reader x Steve Harrington

‖ summary: You've been hurting and hiding. Steve and Eddie come over to check on you and offer to help.

‖ tags: hurt/comfort. depictions of depression, a depressive episode, and anxiety. suicidal ideations. she/her pronouns, no y/n, nicknames are sweetheart, baby, angel, and doll. could be read as platonic or romantic.

‖ word count: 2.1k

The knock on your apartment door had never felt more damning than it did in that moment.

A knock on the front door was always a nightmare for someone who struggled with their mental health but that was on good days. Today, a knock on the door was definitely not something you were prepared to handle.

So you ignored it. Pulled your covers even further up over your head and hoped that whoever it was would just go away.

No such luck.

You hear the muffled sound of the deadbolt turning and then the seal of the door breaking as it inches open. “Hellooooo?” Is the familiar echo out into the empty space of your place. “Anybody home?”

“She’s gotta be here, her car is out front.”

Fuck it’s both of them. Every hope you had of just hiding and Eddie leaving got thrown out the window the moment you heard Steve was with him. On their own, either might be disheartened by no response – decide they were invading your privacy and leave before venturing too far inside.

Together, encouraging each other, it’s only a matter of minutes before they knock at your bedroom door.

Your pigsty of a bedroom that is covered in dirty clothes and dishes and probably smells weird and they can’t see–

“Don’t come in,” you rasp from your bed, voice tired from disuse as you break your silence for the first time in who knows how long.

“Sweetheart, where have you been?” Steve’s voice comes through the door, obviously right outside it. “We've been calling and calling for days.”

“I… I’ve been sick.”

“Sick? Why didn’t you say something, angel? Could’ve brought you some soup or something,” Eddie adds, sounding concerned. You can clearly picture the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

Eyes closing from their stare at the ceiling, you take a deep breath to force down the sickness that is threatening to rise with every lie that leaves your mouth. “I’m contagious. Don’t want to get you sick.”

“Oh, come on. We’re big strong men, right Harrington? We can fend off a little stomach bug, no problem.”

“Super human immune system, baby,” Steve confirms, and you can hear the smile on his face. It nearly breaks your heart. “No chance you’ll give us anything. So can we come in?”

“No!”

Neither of them say a word after your quick and forceful denial, leaving it to feel like it’s echoing out around the room and grating back into your own eardrums. Just to get it to stop, you softly add, “Please don’t.”

While you’re worried it might’ve been too soft for them to hear, you’re proven wrong by Steve saying, “Then will you come out here?” It’s a soft plea, warm and velvety in its concern and compassion, and it feels like a knife in the chest. “Tell us what’s really going on?”

There’s no way to get out of this. You haven’t showered in days, you probably smell rough and look even worse. You’ve been wearing the same sweatpants and hoodie for a week. And you’re going to have to open your door and face your two closest friends like this.

If you don’t go out there, they will come in here. And that’s too much, it’s safe in here, they can’t come in here–

“Okay, okay. I’m… Just gimme a minute.”

“Take your time, we’ll go hang out on the couch,” you hear one set of footsteps away from your door after Steve’s confirmation.

“Not too long though,” Eddie teases, “I’m gonna raid your fridge and eat all of it if you don’t stop me.”

The threat means nothing as he walks away too. There’s nothing in your fridge left that’s edible.

Anxiety from them being here and wanting them to be gone is enough to get you out of bed for the first time today, picking through the remaining pile of clean clothes to find a different pair of sweatpants and a top that isn’t as marinated in body as your current set, slapping on some deodorant and changing your underwear at the same time. You do the bare minimum to make your hair look less like a greasy, horrible mess and gargle some mouthwash because it’s easier than trying to brush your teeth. This already feels like so, so much effort and you haven’t even faced them yet.

This shouldn’t be this hard. Why the fuck is being a normal human being so hard for you? What is wrong with you–

As soon as you’ve even cracked the door open, their murmuring to each other stops and they turn toward you, looking small and unsure in your doorway. Two pairs of brown eyes staring holes into you, seeing right through you, and it feels so fucking painful that you want to just slam the door shut again. They’re looking at you so softly, with so much warmth and openness.

Because they pity you.

“What do you want?” Your voice is colder and softer than you meant it to be, not moving from your spot that blocks the view of your room from them. You could step out into the living room and close the door behind you to hide your shame, but leaving the safety of your bedroom isn’t something you’re willing to do yet.

“Your fridge is empty.” Eddie’s voice is as soft as yours but the corners of his mouth are turned down in a small frown. “The dishes in your sink have started to smell. Your trashcan and your mailbox are both overflowing.”

Shame and embarrassment presses hot behind your eyes, looking down at your feet. “If you’re just here to point out everything that’s wrong, you can get the fuck out of–”

“Sweetheart.” Steve cuts you off, not cruelly but enough to make you stop anyway. “When’s the last time you ate anything?”

Your heart drops into your stomach when he slowly stands, starting to slowly walk toward you like you’re a skittish animal. “I dunno… I’m not hungry.”

“Shit,” Eddie mutters from the couch, head falling to look at his clasped hands as he leans forward on his elbows.

“When’s the last time you showered? Left your apartment?” Steve continues, looking like his heart is breaking.

“Steve…” You whisper, a croak in your voice again while you shake your head at him. “Please, don’t… Don’t make me answer that.”

Eddie’s head raises again, drawing your attention. He looks just as heart broken as Steve. “Why didn’t you say anything, doll?”

A humorless laugh leaves you, sounding more like a choked gasp. “What the fuck was I supposed to say, huh? ‘Hey, sorry guys, I can’t even get myself to go to the fucking grocery store like a normal human being, can you help?’”

“Yeah,” he answers, sounding almost angry, shaggy hair falling off his shoulders when he nods, “for a start.”

“Eddie.” Steve looks back at him sharply, giving him a warning look that makes him soften again. When he looks back to you, still a safe few feet away, he asks, “What happened, sweetheart? What’s got you…?”

“Hurting?” Eddie offers when the other falters, pushing off his knees to stand as well.

“It’s just…” Your voice cracks, tears you haven’t been able to find in days suddenly pushing at your eyes without warning. You squeeze them closed as your breath catches to try and stop them.

What are you gonna tell them? ‘Oh everything’s so hard.’ Just tell them you’re a fucking child who can’t handle being alive? Might as well push them out the door now–

“Hey,” Steve’s soft voice interrupts your mental berating, taking another few steps closer. “It’s okay. You can tell us anything.”

“No judgement,” Eddie adds, an echo of one of the first things you said to him when the two of you met. It’s been a constant in the relationship you have with both of them. Anything any of you say – no matter how stupid, or fucked up, or wrong – no judgement. Maybe some teasing, depending on how stupid. But they’ve never judged you for anything and there is no reason for them to start now.

But this? Trusting someone, opening up to someone, letting someone in about this? The idea is terrifying.

“Everything’s just…” You trail off again, looking off and down the hallway away from them as you bring your arms up in a sort of hug for yourself. “It’s all just a lot, right now.”

“Will you…” Eddie shoves his hands into his pockets as he kicks out his boot like he’s kicking a rock. “Will you let us help you?”

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish the sentence. “I– I can’t ask you to do that.”

Steve’s fingertips brush your elbow, the first human touch you’ve had in longer than you can remember, and it has your head whipping toward him. “You’re not asking. We're offering.”

Hot tears increase the pressure in your head, now starting to pool at the bottoms of your eyes as you struggle to make eye contact with either of them. “I don’t even know how you could help. It’s just… I can’t…”

I want to curl into a ball on the floor and wait to die–

“How about this,” Eddie walks up, moving to rest his shoulder on the wall beside the door frame you still occupy. “I’m gonna run to the store and stock up, plus grab us all something to eat on the way back.”

You open your mouth to protest but he holds up his hand, “Ah, ah, ah.” It’s enough scolding to close your lips again in a tight line before he points at Steve. “Mr. Mom here can get started on cleaning up the kitchen so it’s nice and easy to cook in. And you tell us what you want to do.”

Your teary eyes finally look back and forth between them, begging for an answer – for them to put you out of your misery for even just a moment. “I can give you a couple of options to choose from, if that would help?” Steve offers, fingertips still lightly resting on your elbow.

Door 3, door 3, door 3, every bone in my body wants to get back in bed and never get up–

Squeezing your eyes shut, both to let some of the tears fall and to push back the shame that wants to explode out of your mouth, you give him a stuttered nod of your head. “Okay. Door #1: While we do that, you go and try to take a shower.” The immediate pain must show on your face, because he quickly moves on.

“Door #2: You come out here and lay on the couch while I start to clean up. You can take a nap, or we can talk, or we can listen to music – whatever you want. And Door #3, you go back and curl up in bed and we come back to get you when Eddie has some food for us.”

A shaky breath in and out, you open your eyes to look at them. Eddie’s face is forced casual while Steve offers a small and supportive smile. You know they wouldn’t judge you if you picked Door #3 and got back into bed. If you went back to the indent you’ve most likely made from all the hours and hours spent in the same spot. But you want to try. Even if it’s just a little bit. Even if you end up back in bed right after anyway.

“If… If I pick Door #2,” Eddie’s mouth tilts up slightly and Steve’s eyebrows raise in interest, “then can I have a hug?”

“Oh angel,” Eddie presses a hand to his chest, right over his heart. “If you thought you were going to get away without a hug in any of those options, you’re sorely mistaken.”

You exhale a small laugh out of your nose, a teary smile on your face as they both step up to sandwich you between them in a tight hug. Eddie’s face presses to your ear, curly hair tickling your nose as he rests his mouth on your shoulder. Steve settles higher, resting his cheek on the side of your head as he tucks you closer to his chest. Both boys are warm, solid, and alive on either side of you – almost crushing you with the force of the embrace. But it’s the best crush you’ve ever felt, one that tells you that you’re alive and that someone cares. It makes the tears come through faster, falling down your cheeks with more force as you shudder in a breath.

Steve presses a kiss to your temple, squeezing you just a little bit tighter. “We’re here for you, sweetheart.”

Eddie’s hand fists in the back of your shirt, forcing you an inch closer. “As long as you need us. Not going anywhere.”

now I live in a place that feels smaller by the day four walls closing in from months spent inside them there is too much grief packed into this small place packed into this bed with unchanged sheets packed between these ribs that somehow are still unbroken and no one has ever been here not in this space, not in this bed, not between these ribs they are too full of my own grief for there to be any space

thanks for reading. please reblog and leave a reaction if you liked it, they make my day.

#steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington fluff #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #steddie x you #steddie x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myos ideas #myo4munson #myo4harrington

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zaynesaurora · 2 months

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ʟ&ᴅꜱ ! reaction to you being rough in bed — (MDNI)

a/n: boy this really went somewhere // blindfolding, choking, handcuffing, 69'ing.

zayne ! fights you for control at first, typically being the care taker in every other relationship- platonic or romantic, means he shifts into his 'giving' insticts with little thought and finds it hard to lie back and take it, so to speak. easiest work around is to tie a dark blindfold across his eyes and let him rely on his senses- help him trust that he's in good hands.

he's particularly pliant when you play with his senses. zayne won't ever speak it into reality but he doesn't need to- not when his skin pimples up as you drag your nails across his upper thighs, ghosting his nether regions in a way that has his chest filling full of the air he's desperately trying to hold on to. he's sat on his hands. hopelessly trying to allow you this moment of torment on his behalf as he thrusts into nothingness when your hand disappears again.

"patience, doctor. let me take care of my patient thoroughly'

xavier ! is the one lying back and taking it. he likes being attended to and doing the least amount of work possible- kinda lazy in bed but it’s a win win for everyone because it means he’s down to let you do just about anything to him, using him for your own pleasure like the biggest love doll in production. xavier has a soft spot for you wrapping something around his neck, forcing him into your personal space as you degrade him just a teeny tiny bit.

crumbles into a million little pieces when you pull him so close that your chests rub together as you ride him- perky nipples almost sore from the friction, heartbeat thrumming in his head as he tries to hear through the rush of blood to his ears. he tries to fall back onto his elbows. tries to stop it as his eyes roll back in his skull- but you have him suspended in mid air by his neck, arms slack by his side.

"you're so dirty, baby boy"

rafayel ! love love loves it, he is a brat and needs to be tamed. takes great pleasure in riling you up no matter the setting, taunting you at every opportunity because he just knows exactly how to work his way around you- pushing you into the line of command without you even noticing because he wants to be doted on every second of his day. in true rafayel fashion, the moment would be ruined entriely if you didn’t, praise should line every word that leaves your mouth.

he likes to pretend he's in control still, lengthy monologues leaving his mind and being muttered in your general direction with a fake sliver of annoyance- even when his hands are cuffed infront of him, just shy of being able to paw at his own cock. he's forced to watch as your ride out your own high, red and angry as he drips at the visual- dick begging for relief as he throbs in a wild rhythym, completely polar opposite to the words flowing from his vocal chords.

"whats wrong pretty? you can take care of me now, yeah?"

— bonus —

caleb ! it's like two cats swatting fists at each other- i'm in control! no, i'm in control! kind of back and forth until you pin him on his back, legs staddling either side of his head as you rub yourself to the bump in his nose and pull him from his sweats- the only way to putting the bickering to an end, is to put both mouths to good use, at the same time. dives in no questions asked.

"stop talking, caleb. put your mouth to use."

#myths—#love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace #l&ds #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace rafayel #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader #lads smut #lads x reader #lads zayne #lads xavier #lads rafayel

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saturnsbabyboii · 1 year

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🍭Astro Observation for you to munch on until Fatoor 🍭

🍭People that have a Fire sign or an Earth sign on the cusp of the 3rd house are great vocalists (Exp. Ariana Grande, Whitney Huston, Amy Winehouse, Michael Jackson, Mariah Carey, Lana Del Rey, etc.)

🍭Taurus Suns with Gemini Venus are top tier

🍭Capricorn Venus and their never-ending search for the perfect partner. (Standards are too high? or is no one worth it?)

🍭The stereotype of Cancers being homebodies seems to be very far from the truth. They're always on the go, meeting people, getting into new experiences and exploring. However, they do value their own space as they consider their home/room/inner world to be sacred and isn't to be shared with everyone. They're the true "Extroverted introvert", if you will.

🍭Synastry charts aren't a one size fits all. An aspect has a different interpretation depending on the status of the relationship (platonic, familial, romantic, or sexual, etc.) For instance, the presence of Squares can be experienced positively in romantic/sexual relationships, but a bit challenging in platonic ones. However, it is hell to have it with family.

🍭Continuing with aspects, the presence of squares or "harsh" aspects doesn't mean you're doomed to fail. In fact, people that have more harsh aspects are very well in control of themselves (or at least of the themes of the placements/houses involved). I have known and witnessed many people that have been blessed with trines that end up overindulging and disregarding the dangers of their actions. It is possible that because things usually work out for them that they take it for granted and push their luck too far. (The recurrence of trines in the birth chart is common among celebrities who overdose, but that is just what I have observed)

🍭There are many posts on placements/aspects that indicate wealth and/or fame. However, we don't talk about HOW, WHERE, and WHAT can we do to cultivate this kind of success. The answer is in the mutable houses (3rd, 6th, 9th, 12th). The sign over the house, the placements, and the position of the house ruler (even aspects and degrees but focus on the latter first) will tell you where you need to go, what should you do, how should you do it, and (most importantly) what is blocking you or in what ways can you change in order to move to that next step.

🍭Regardless of their other placements, I have never met or heard of a Pisce and a Leo getting along.

🍭It is true that Earth placements/doms guard their inner self with many walls, but the way Air placements/doms do it always fascinates me. Instead of an obvious defensive stance, they unleash a mirage that creates the illusion of openness. You never really know what's true versus what's not but the kicker is, neither do they. I still love them though.

🍭What's with Water energy and getting too much plastic surgery?

🍭Jupiter is the planet of growth, wisdom, knowledge, and luck. Wherever it's placed it'll give you "a big head". As a Jupiter in 3rd, I have to catch myself from being a smartass and a know-it-all. My friend has a Jupiter in the 1st and she could wear a trash bag and you can't tell her nothing about how she looks. On a side note, she does have a larger head and looks like a Bratz doll (no shade though)

🍭Despite what I have heard/read, I am continuously disappointed by Scorpio placements. I don't get the hype. But when it comes to Virgos and Geminis though, I have been pleasantly surprised.

🍭Aries Moon 🤝Low key being a covert narcissist

🍭Leos out here thinking they're an undiscovered celebrity, meanwhile Sagittarians and Capricorns are a living meme factory

🍭12th house stelliums and their obsession with existential questions "Why am I here?" "What's the soul?"

🍭Having your Moon reside in an Air house (3rd, 7th, 11th) makes it difficult for you to understand your physical emotional reactions (Exp. Always wondering "Why do I feel weird?") Finding a visual discord as an outlet or talking about it with other people can develop an awareness and an understanding of the connection between your body and mind

🍭Most Fire placements have such powerful minds and pure hearts but their mouths always get them in trouble.

🍭Pisces and Libra placements aren't sweet angels with rose-colored glasses. Not saying they aren't good people, but the ones that I have known had a very dark and twisted side to them with a very pessimistic point of view of the world. This could be due to their sensitivity to their surroundings and other people.

🍭Earth in the 8th is very likely to leave a big chunk as their inheritance, meanwhile Fire in the 8th is hitting the jackpot (Sorry nana)

🍭The element of your 2nd house reflects your self-esteem.

Water in the 2nd indicates a turbulent and unstable self-image that ranges from highs and lows.

Earth in the 2nd house has a sustainable and clear image of themselves with an awareness of their flaws and ways to improve.

Air in the 2nd house and their fluctuating sense of self, they are very likely to personalize and have a completely warped idea of themselves, or they absolutely don't give a damn about how they look and have an unshakable confidence.

Fire in the 2nd house, Either peak early in life then crash hard with a bruised ego or takes a long time to fully accept and love who they are

🍭Having Saturn and Jupiter in the same house is the holy grail of growth. You will forever receive lessons and discipline from Saturn along with endless wisdom and improvement from Jupiter. An indication of a very tough start (depending on the house themes) you may feel alone and conflicted with no one to turn to regarding it. However, with Jupiter as your guide and Saturn as your protector, you'll be able to take on whatever the house (and probably life) throws at you like a pro tennis player.

Bye Bitch✨

#astrology #astrology observations #astrology notes #astro observations #astro notes #astrology placements #astro placements #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

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bruciemilf · 1 year

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Based on @qcomicsy 's podcast AU because hello it is the most hilarious thing ever??

---

Dick, three Red Bull iced coffees in: You know who doesn't get enough recognition? As like, a bonafide rogue? Harvey. Or, Two-Face, whatever.

Jason, spitting Starbats and choking: DUDE. Absolutely.

Dick: That man put the fear of GOD in me. Listen, if you have an Italian dad? This is a safe space. It was so weird because like, -- when B couldn't put me in check, he used to, --

Jason: Call Harvey!

Dick: Call Harvey! And he'd come to the manor, sit me down, force me to do my homework. But it was fucking math, and he [laughs] he was like [imitating Harvey's voice] 'Doll, what the hell is THIS?'

Jason: Do you think they know we know? Cause it was kinda obvious. I mean, --

Dick: Boy best friends call eachother sweet pet names all the time, right?

Jason: Straight culture is raising 7 kids together as men and calling eachother 'babe'

Dick: Normalise being men and platonically married, [giggles] God, I hope they don't see this

Jason: I hope they do. I've had my best man speech ready since like, 12

Dick: Best man?! YOU?

Jason: Oh here we fucking go--

#dc #dc comics #jason todd #dick grayson #bruharvey #text #text post #incorrect quotes #incorrect dc quotes #harvey dent

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munsonluhvr · 2 months

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♡ seven | steve harrington x reader (childhood friends to lovers) (record player series #1) word count - 1.1k

You shift in your seat, tucking your legs against your chest, leaning forward to place your chin on your knees. The soft, warm breeze blows against your skin, leaving goosebumps across your arms in its wake. Your eyes dart to catch Steve’s as he sits across from you on the same picnic blanket. His sparkling, brown eyes glance back at you, a small smile creeping across his mouth.

Even all these years later, he still has his boyish looks from when he was seven. The same messy brown hair, the same lopsided smile. Even after all these years, his gaze still makes you feel like you’re the only girl in the world.

It’s been nearly a year since you last saw Steve, college taking you to different sides of Indiana. You had managed to keep in touch, sending letters occasionally, but it didn’t fill the ache of missing your longest childhood friend. You, of course, made friends at school, but none of them made you feel like Steve, none of them understood you like he did. But as you sit across from him now, the tension between you feels different as if somethings changed.

Steve starts laughing softly, taking you out of your thoughts, his gaze turning from you to across his backyard. The large weeping willows drape over the empty space of his yard, nearly touching the patio chairs Steve’s parents have had for as long as you can remember. The sun warms the ground beneath you, and you let your fingertips disappear into the green fluff of the grass.

“D-Do you remember when I nearly broke my arm jumping off the porch because we were pretending to be pirates? Or when you got into an argument with your parents, so you packed your dolls into your sweater and came over to the house saying that you were coming to live with me?” Steve says between laughs. He shakes his head, reminiscing on the memories you made together as children; thinking about your seven-year-old self, cheeks pink and stained with tears standing on his back porch after the argument with your parents.

You nod, your eyes grazing across his back porch where you could nearly visualize that day as if it was yesterday. You could also remember when you had been playing pirates with Steve and had to run into his house, in search of his parents because he had jumped off the porch to pretend he was going overboard and fell on the ground hard, wailing in pain. Though, he only sprained his arm.

“I think I remember that you wiped my tears, hugged me until I stopped crying and told me we’d run away to India one day. Far away from our parents.” You say, a smile appearing on your own face.

Just then Steve’s eyes drops, his hand going to rub the back of his neck in a self-soothing way; he always did that when he was nervous or distressed. “Yeah, I guess I had a crush on you back then. My seven-year-old self-thought we could run away to India and get married.”

Your heart begins to thud against your chest, butterflies beating their tiny wings against your lungs. Steve had been your best friend for as long as you can remember, not once did you grow apart. Sure, being apart for college was difficult, but you did the best you could. What you had learned at college, however, is that the longing you have to see Steve, the ache you had for your best friend, was no longer platonic – it was love. The time apart from him, around others who didn’t get you the way he did encouraged you to truly understand your feelings for him. The realization had kept you up in your cramped dorm room night after night, but you finally accepted the truth. You loved your childhood friend.

“I-I didn’t know you liked me, ever.” You said, biting at your bottom lip. You can’t recall a single time you felt the sense that Steve could possibly like you more than his childhood best friend.

Steve continues to rub at the back of his neck, then runs a hand through his fluffy hair. “Sometimes I think I still do.” He says, glancing at you. His own heart thumps against his chest, a metallic taste flourishing in the back of his throat.

Steve had had his own realizations after you left for college, the time apart from you encouraged his mind to think about you constantly, missing your presence and the way you could make him laugh. He came to the conclusion he’s always had feelings for you, his younger self thinking it was plausible to sweep you away to India, your precious belongings tucked into your shirt, far away from your parents; but as time went on he had convinced himself that there was a very little chance you could feel the same about him and he hid his feelings until now.

Your jaw slacks ever so slightly at his confession. You can feel an even bigger smile beginning to appear on your face, but you don’t want to seem too eager. “I didn’t know that.”

Steve shrugs, his eyes still struggling to meet yours. His nerves are frayed, searching to find a hint in your voice or body language to see if he’s ruined the most important friendship he’ll ever have. “I didn’t know how to tell you; I could never tell if you felt the same.”

You reach out, your hand making its way to Steve’s that’s placed on the ground, holding him up. You let your fingers intertwine with his, the warmth of his skin brushing against your palm. “You should have said something,” you say, your voice coming out lower then you expected to be.

“Why?” Steve asks, his heart thudding against his chest, his heartbeat echoing in his ears. He’s afraid his heartbeat in his ears will drown out your answer and he’ll miss you saying something he’s waited so long to hear you say.

“Because I feel the same, and I also didn’t know how to tell you," you say. Once the word leaves your lips, the relief you feel makes your body feel light.

The urge to kiss your lips overcomes Steve and following his impulse he leans forward, his soft lips colliding with yours. You hum with pleasure, as Steve's hand reaches towards your, his nimble fingers intertwining with locks of your hair. You lean forward, deepening the kiss with Steve, the flavor of his lips is as sweet as the strawberries you had eaten only a few minutes before. Is this what you've been missing out on all this time?

Steve pulls back just enough to mumble against your lips. "I've wanted to kiss you ever since I was seven and you flashed me a smile with all your missing teeth for the first time." Then he leans back into you, his lips gently pressing against yours, as all of his childhood fantasies come true.

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fan fiction #S

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averagewriter-inthedark · 10 months

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Barbie Girl 💄 | Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin Imagine

Takes place before, during, and after the events of Top Gun Maverick

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Barbie!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)

Content warnings: light profanity, fluff | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4.3k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @kayla-swiftly)

Premise: They say the sky is the limit and anything you set you’re mind to will be achieved as long as you’re dedicated to it. For most people that testimony is nothing but a mere fantasy. But for one woman, with too many dreams to count on her fingers, she took that statement to heart. Proving you can be anyone you want to be and maybe even a few others give or take 😉

Note: Anyone else obsessed with Barbie lately?? Omg y’all I saw the movie last week and absolutely fell in love and i had this request from around the time the final trailer dropped and knew it was the perfect time to write this. I know I know I haven’t been living up to my promise of being consistent but man they having me working my ass off at my job. Also I’ve been traveling and I saw Big Time Rush last night (i felt like a teenager again and it was amazing 😭) anyway I hope you enjoyed this and let me know what you think!

—————————

“Hi, Barbie!” The familiar greeting fills Y/n’s ears as it does every morning she arrives at the hangar. With it comes an instant smile, hand raising to wave at the person responsible for it, “Hi, Phoenix!”

“Hey there, Barbie,” winks another friendly face.

“Hiiii, Hangman,” her tone is playful like his, turning energetic for Bob when he goes, “Hiya, Barbie!”

“Hi there, Bob!”

“Hey, Barbie.” “Good morning, Barbie.” “What’s up, Barbie Girl.”

“Hello, Rooster.” “Good morning to you too, Fanboy.” “Nothing much, Pay. And yourself?”

Unlike her fellow pilots, clad in their deep green flight suits, Y/n stood out in the crowd for hers was a little unorthodox when one thinks of a naval fighter pilot's uniform.

It was pink. Completely as in her combat boots were also the bright color and the patchers were white and pink tones rather than red, blues, black and any other color seen in the ones attached to her coworkers arms. ‘Barbie’ in pink cursive writing instead of traditional bold Times New Roman lettering.

And don’t forget the little flower dotting the ‘i’.

Growing up, Y/n took ‘you can be anyone and anything you want to be,’ quite literally. At no point was it a joke to her when she would tell her friends and family, “oh I’m gonna be a fashion designer and Olympic Gold medalist when I’m older,” “I wanna go to space, fly in planes, and see all the wonders of the world,” “I’ll be a doctor, a teacher, and movie star!” They’d smile and laugh, thinking it was adorable for a little girl to dream big. No way would it be possible to achieve all of those careers. Everyone only gets one life to live and time goes so fast one can only set their eyes on one path and hope for the best.

But Y/n was a dreamer. And if you’re going to dream, might as well dream big.

All through middle and high school people took Y/n’s intelligence for granted. Focusing more on her beauty rather than brains, it came as an under shock to everyone when Y/n had the credits to graduate at the ripe age of 15. Exceeding in her standardized test scores with a high school resume taking up three pages with extracurricular and academic achievements, she had colleges from all over the country begging for her to apply.

Stanford. Cornell. Pratt. Juilliard. NYU. John Hopkins. Harvard. UCLA. Duke. Top medical and law schools. Ivy League universities. Performing Arts schools calling for auditions after sending scouts to watch her perform in school plays and dance recitals. Coaches from high ranking NCAA gymnastics teams sending emails after emails.

So many to choose from….And so the story of Y/n L/n becoming a real life Barbie Doll begins.

Setting her eyes in New York, Y/n attended not one but two of the best schools in the country. While obtaining her bachelor’s in both astronautical and aeronautical engineering at NYU Y/n also completed a two year degree in Fashion Business Management at the Fashion Institute of Technology. During this time she continued training for the Olympics in hopes of making the 2008 Beijing team in gymnastics.

“How do you do it?” Her roommate at NYU constantly asked. “You go from here to FIT, working on two degrees that are completely on opposite sides of the spectrum and career paths,” she emphasized with hand expressions, “and still have enough to time to go to the gym to practice, eat three meals a day, have all your assignments done early, and sleep a reasonably about of hours each night.” Letting out an exhale, her roommate looks at Y/n as if she’s an alien from another world, “What’s your secret? Are you some kind of Barbie doll the government created as a test robot?”

Each time Y/n would pause, think for a moment before smiling, “I don’t know if I should find that as an insult or compliment, but I’m gonna chose it as a compliment and say it’s because I want to live a life where I can look back on and go, ‘I took a risk and tried something new even if it didn’t look possible but it was all worth it.’”

By the time Y/n turned 20 she had accumulated a vast list of credentials to her name. The list included getting her fashion business degree at 17, Bachelors in astronautical/aeronautical engineering at 19–receiving her Master’s for it at 20–An Olympic Gold and Silver medalist, dancing with the Radio City Rockettes, performing with the NYC Ballet Company in their rendition of Swan Lake, landing a role on Broadway, walking a runway at NY fashion week, and appearing on episodes of SVU, 30 Rock, All My Children, Sex and the City, and Ugly Betty.

So yeah, New York was a success in experiences for Y/n.

Following the high note, she packed her bags to leave the golden apple for the flashing lights of Hollywood, California. This time Y/n was working on her doctorates at USC, running her own business with her fashion degree called ‘Dream Closet’, and auditioning for film and tv shows.

Hollywood was a dream come true just like New York. Again she attended two different schools, this time flight school and USC. During the day she was occupied running from class to the hangar and then the observatory. Coaching dance and gymnastics on the side, designing clothes for her online shop which developed into a pop-up chain store in malls across America.

It wasn’t long until Y/n’s name grew into nationwide popularity. People started realizing the Y/n L/n who won the Gold and Silver medals in the 2008 Olympics was the same one responsible for the most recent fashion trends and guest starring on their favorite tv shows. What really set it in stone was when Y/n landed the role of an engineer officer in the 2009 reboot of Star Trek, going on to appear in both the 2013 and 2016 sequels.

Impressive was the only word her costars could use to describe her. What else was there?

Anytime there was a question involving, “who’s most likely to become president?” “Who’s most likely to try something new or create a new hobby?” “Who’s most likely to win a Nobel Prize?” Along those lines…the answer was obvious.

“Oh Y/n,” Zoe Saldana waves her hand, “Always.”

“Yeah,” Chris Pine agrees with a laugh, “That woman, I-I don’t know how one has the energy to do all that she does—a-and still want to do more.”

The Interviewer laughs with them, “didn’t she just race in the Daytona 500 last year?”

“Yes!! And she did a song with Lady Gaga when they were on American Horror Story,” Zoe’s tone is in absolute awe, “All while teaching at USC and creating new technology at NASA.” Chris lifts a finger.

“Don’t forget she had her own Mac Viva Glam line a couple years ago.” Zoe made a sound along the lines of ‘see what I mean,’.

“I’m telling you, she’s gonna be a name in the history books.”

What all has Y/n accomplished career wise? Let’s take a look.

Model, dancer, actor, singer, fashion designer, entrepreneur, athlete, engineer, race car driver, and professor.

And now she can add pilot to the list. Although she got her license to fly way back in 2009, Y/n didn’t put it to use full time until 2016, wanting to wait until after the release of Star Trek: Beyond to say goodbye to Hollywood for the time being and set forth on her next adventure.

Boy did it come as a surprise what she had planned.

The Manila folder containing her resume hit the desk of the Admiral, his eyes wide as saucers. “You wanna join the Navy?” Reading the front page for a fifth time, Cyclone glanced back at the woman in front of him. Doctor Y/n L/n. Or is it professor L/n? “And you wanna be one of my pilots?”

“Yes, Sir.”

”Ma’am, I apologize if this comes off as offending,” he really didn’t know any other way to put it. “But you are more qualified than any person on this base. Doctorates in aeronautical and astronautical engineering from the University of Southern California,” he counts off on his fingers, “you recently developed a groundbreaking advancement in space technology that’s going to help our astronauts—on the road to becoming a Nobel Prize nominee.” He raises his eyebrows, “And this is only what relates to this career field. I’m not even mentioning your acting, athletic, and fashion credentials. Why join the Navy?”

Y/n only offers a shrug, “I think the better question is, why not?” Cyclone lets out a sigh.

“What did you say your callsign was again?”

“Barbie.”

There was no stopping the small smile trying to break free, “I should’ve guessed.”

After completing OTS there was much debate on what Y/n’s rank would be coming into the Navy. Civilian lawyers and physicians often are Lieutenants (O-3) right away, but considering Y/n had two doctorate degrees and her pilot license they felt it was only fair for her to come in as Commander (O-5). From there Y/n was sent to North Island to attend Fighter Weapons School.

Better known to its flyers as Top Gun.

Y/n was used to the looks she received on a daily basis. From head to toe she was covered in variations of pink depending on what she was feeling. When teaching her briefcase and pantsuit were baby pink, in the labs her coat was hot pink, at auditions she wore pink leather jackets. Even her race car for the Daytona was pink.

Shoutout to Mac cosmetics for the sponsorship.

So it’s no surprise her flight suit would be the color she was known for—despite it being out of regulations.

Being more qualified than your superiors had its perks.

If she could have a pink F-18 she would but unfortunately that wasn’t possible. That was okay for Y/n. After all, she managed to get her own custom flight suit. One which had everyone having to do double takes whenever she walked into a room.

“Is she wearing…?”

“How the hell did they allow that?”

“Does that mean I can have mine in purple?”

Her first day at Top Gun Y/n met Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace. They were paired as roommates in the dorms and quickly became good friends. Phoenix was beyond amazed with Y/n’s accomplishments and experiences. Every conversation led to a new discovery. “Do you ever burn out?” Nat stag criss crossed on Y/n’s satin pink bed sheets, admiring her wall of photos from when she traveled to see all the wonders of both the ancient and modern world. “I feel I’d be a walking corpse from exhaustion. And you mentioned you’re still running and designing clothes for ‘Dream Closet’?”

Y/n removed her diamond studs, placing them on her desk she was using as a vanity. “I have a team dealing with the business side of things for the brand. I’m still CEO and creative director—usually I work on designs for a couple hours before bed to prepare for the next launch.”

Nat was in awe, “I have to ask….what’s been the best career you’ve done so far?” A common question Y/n heard, there was never a true answer. She loved every career. They all had their perks and their flaws, but at the end of the day it left her satisfied she achieved them.

“I don’t know yet,” she spoke truthfully, “I still have a few to check off on my list. When that happens I’ll let you know.”

Fast forwarding to 2019, Y/n answered the phone to Admiral Simpson’s voice with the news she needed to report back to North Island for a highly confidential mission. The details were unknown, but Y/n packed her bags, loaded her pink vintage corvette convertible and high tailed it to sunny San Diego.

The squeals initiated by Y/n and Nat the moment she stepped foot in the Hard Deck had heads whipping in their direction. “Hi, Barbie!” Nat’s arms opened for a hug.

“Hi, Phoenix!” Y/n accepted the embrace, still grinning ear to ear. The guys around them were looking at each other like, ‘what the…?’ Y/n wasn’t in her standard Khakis like they were—minus Rooster. She bore a pink denim number with matching boots with her hair curled and pink eyeliner surrounded by tiny rhinestones.

“You got selected too?” Nat complimented her outfit before cutting straight to the point.

“For the special detachment? Looks like it,” she winked.

“What happened to the Artemis program? Weren’t you up as a candidate?”

“Oh I still am,” Y/n affirmed proudly, “They’ll be announcing who’s to be selected in the coming months. So for now I’m still with the Bounty Hunters. Plus,” she leans in to whisper, “this will look good on my resume.” The two giggle before Y/n drifts her gaze to the boggling gazes in front of her. “Oh! I’m sorry for being so rude. I’m Y/n L/n,” extending her hand to the first person who’s name tag read Fitch, Y/n added, “But you can call me Barbie.”

“Barbie,” the blonde holding a pool cue repeated like a question, “like the toy Barbie?” Nat chuckled, throwing an arm around her friend after she was done shaking everyone’s hand as they introduced themselves.

“Fellas, if there is anyone who is a life sized version of Barbie, it’s this one right here.”

“Now, Phee…” Y/n’s tone was that of, ‘Don’t start.’

“It’s true,” the pilot defended. “Not only is she Commander Y/n ‘Barbie’ L/n,” jaws drop, “but she’s Professor and Doctor L/n.” The jaws hit the floor, “On top of founder, creative director and CEO of ‘Dream’s Closet,’” Javy makes a sound, familiar with the brand, “Emmy nominated actress,” Fanboy chokes on his water, “Olympic Gold Medalist and soon to be astronaut for the Artemis program.” By now all the guys are on the verge of losing their minds.

Bob rapidly blinks, “uh—.”

“Now I’m not an astronaut yet,” Y/n points out, “I’m a candidate for one.” Nat scoffs lightly.

“They’d be stupid not to pick you, Barb,” she then slaps her side, turning back to the guys, “Oh and how could I forget Broadway, Vogue, and the Daytona 500.”

“Daytona 500!?” Payback practically screeches.

“You were on Broadway?”

“—featured on Vogue—?!”

“Wait a minute I recognize you from Star Trek!”

“—How in the hell—.”

“Guys, guys!” Y/n laughs with her hands slightly raised, “Please, one at a time.” They were in for a long night of questions and story times. And just like Nat was years prior when she first roomed with Y/n at Top Gun, the officers were in complete amazement over the woman in front of them. Never had they met anyone like her.

“Wow,” Jake whistled once she finished bringing them up to date on her most recent careers. “You really are a real-life Barbie.”

“Shhhh,” a finger went to her lips, followed by a wink, “don’t tell Mattel.”

And thus the dagger squad was formed. Two and half weeks of hell bearing training preceding a face-with-death mission brings people closer. Every morning Y/n arrived at the hangar to a chorus of “Hi, Barbie.”

She waved at Reuben, “Hi Payback.”

“Hey there, Barbie Girl,” Javy threw her a peace sign.

“Hiya, Coyote!”

“Good morning, Barbie,” Rooster tipped his hat.

“Mornin’, Rooster.”

“Hi, Barbie!” “Hi, Barbie!” Her favorite duo harmonized.

“Hi, Bob! Hi, Phee!”

And for some closer than others….

“You know I was thinking,” Jake commented, taking Y/n’s hand before leading her to the pottery class he signed them up for. Every Friday night was reserved for date night. Dinner and a movie. Walk on the beach. Spending $20 worth of quarters at an arcade. Attending a comedy show. Paint and sip. Following the successful mission, Jake and Y/n hit it off and began seeing each other.

“Famous last words.”

“It’s not bad,” a chuckle left his lips, stopping at the door. “I just thought it was funny. You know how you’re basically Barbie?” His cheeky smile resulted in her mirroring it.

“Yessss.”

“This means I’m pretty much your Ken, right?” The question makes the woman visible ‘awe’. Jake ruffles a hand through his hair and gives his best blue steel, “we kinda look alike. Don’t you think?”

Laughing, Y/n kisses his cheek, “I mean…name a more iconic duo than Barbie and Ken.”

“Barbie and Hangman?”

“Exactly.” It was safe to assume what their Halloween costumes were going to be.

Time went on, missions were run. And after a year of anticipation—though it felt like forever, it was finally announced in 2020 Y/n would be one of the astronauts selected to be part of NASA’s Artemis program launching in 2024.

Making Y/n the first woman to go to the moon.

The call came in from a restricted number when they were in a meeting, and knowing she was to expect a call within the month everyone quickly shut up so the pilot could answer.

She excused herself to leave the room, staying in front of the window so the team could see her. Throughout the conversation Y/n’s expression remained neutral to the point none had a clue whether the news was good or bad. Only when she reentered the room did they get the answer.

“I’m going to the moon!!!”

“Ahhh!!!!” The team exploded in an array of cheers, Y/n jumping up and down, careful not to drop her phone that was in her hands when Jake lifted her in his arms.

“I’m so fucking proud of you!” Despite being unauthorized to show pda in uniform, Jake gave her a big kiss on the lips, not caring who saw. “You are the most exceptional human being on this planet.”

“Jake,” tears welled in her eyes, which he kissed away. Her heart filled with warmth and gratitude. Feeling on top of the world with her closest friends supporting her.

Once all calmed down and they finished the meeting, Mickey jumped from his seat, “Come on Barbie, let’s go party!” Everyone sped to the Hard Deck to celebrate the news. Mav bought the first round, followed by Payback.

“Guys you don’t have to do all that,” Y/n said once she realized they all agreed to buy her drinks for the night.

“We want to,” Nat tapped her beer with Y/n’s cocktail glass, the guys voicing agreements. “For years you’ve been dreaming about this and it’s finally happening. Your hard work is paying off and we want to celebrate—show you we love and appreciate you, Barbie.”

Y/n fought back tears, never afraid to show her emotions. Some may find it childish or thinned skin, but to Y/n that was what being human was all about. “I love you guys.”

“We love you!” The voices echoed together.

The night had been going well with the squad hanging out by the pool tables like they usually did when Y/n approached the bar to pick up the next round Mickey was paying for. Not paying attention to those beside her, she smiled at Penny and repeated the order before waiting patiently.

But what’s a night at a bar without someone who lacks boundaries.

“You must be the one they call Barbie,” a voice says, flirtation seeping through the words. Glancing to her right, Y/n recognizes a gentleman from the flight line whose name she could not recall. “You’re quite the talk around base. In fact, weren’t you in some Hollywood blockbuster?”

“Yes,” she politely responds, keeping the answer short. Though she was known to be a sweetheart and kindhearted to anyone she met, Y/n could tell where the interaction was heading toward and did not feel comfortable entertaining it any further. “A long time ago.”

“I’m Lieutenant Paul Billings,” he extended his hand, and she immediately clocked he was trying to show off his rank. ‘Boy he’s in for a treat.’

Not wanting to make a scene, she accepts the handshake. “Commander Y/n L/n,” there was emphasis on the Commander, displaying the woman was of higher rank and therefore a silent warning to Billings to not cross a line.

There was a flash of surprise on his face. Y/n held back an amused laugh, ‘guess you didn’t hear everything.’

“Something the matter, Lieutenant?”

“No,” he brushes it off, “Nothing. Say,” he nods to the bar, “can I buy you a drink.” Did he not just hear her order a round for the people she came with?

“That’s kind of you,” she starts just as Penny arrives with a try full of cold beers and her usual cocktail. “But I’m all set, thank you.” Hands moving to take the tray, she jumps slightly at the feeling of his own coming to her wrist.

“What about lunch this week?”

“I’m sorry but I am spoken for, Lieutenant,” removing his hold, Y/n takes a step away.

Now Paul had lost his reasonable composure. Scoffing, he says, “What? Am I not enough for you?” The question results in her raising a brow.

“I beg your pardon?”

He makes a face, “You think because you’ve done all these careers and occupations that you’re better than the average person? I’m not a pilot and an actor or researching the cure for cancer while creating a documentary series,” venom seeps through his tone, obviously depicting his jealousy, “Basic is not up to your standards, so you have to throw our failures in our face as if we don’t already know.”

By now a crowd has formed. Jake started moving the second he noticed Billings etching too close to his girl, followed by Nat and the others who were ready to back him up. Behind the bar, Penny was fixing to ring the bell until being stopped by Y/n’s wave of the hand.

“Are you done?”

Paul’s expression was that of, “what?” No audible response was voiced therefore Y/n continued.

“Okay, I’m gonna go ahead and say this, Paul,” Y/n drops her shoulder. The change in body language let Jake and her friends know she wasn’t taking anything that the man said personally. “I know I should be offended by your insults and insinuations, but the truth is I’m not.” A small smile forms on her lips, “I don’t view myself higher than anyone because of what I accomplished. The only person I do that to, is myself—because I don’t have to prove to no one but me that I am capable of achieving what I set my mind to. And yeah,” a light chuckle escapes, “I’ve set my mind to a lot of things—way more than the average person. But that doesn’t mean you or anyone else can’t do the same.”

Pausing Y/n takes a breath before exhaling, “You look at me, and hate the way it makes you view yourself. Makes you believe you’re a failure because you didn’t follow the path you hoped to make for yourself.” Paul’s expression shifts to one of solemnity, like he was thinking of his younger self who had dreams and aspirations. Mourning what could have been.

It made Y/n sad for him. Empathetic despite him attacking her. “One thing I’ve learned over the years…is time is what you make of it. Life is about taking risks. You can still set out to do whatever it is you wish, as long as you’re committing to taking the risk no matter how scary it is. Sure you’ll find obstacles and it’ll feel like the whole world is against you. But determination will guide you through the walls, and you will be successful so that you can look back and think, ‘it was worth it.’ As cliche as it sounds,” she couldn’t hold back a laugh, “Barbie isn’t a person or an object you can obtain. Barbie is a mindset. And you have to unlock it in your own way, Paul.”

It was so quiet in the building, a pin could drop and everyone would hear it. Their looks of awe, admiration, and even newfound motivation by Y/n’s speech. Impressed by how classy she handled what very well could have been a scream match between rival squadrons.

Behind Billings the Dagger squad stood with proud smirks at their friend. Especially Jake, who caught Y/n’s eyes and threw her a wink. Nat gave the woman a salute, a silent gesture to say, ‘you inspire me everyday.’

And Billings? Well he was at a loss for words.

Patting his shoulder, Y/n grabbed the tray of drinks, “I wish you luck, Paul.” Thanking Penny, who gave her a proud nod and replied, “this ones on the house,” Y/n returned to her friends where she was met with a sweet kiss from Jake, claps on the back and “You go girl!” “Tell them who’s boss.” “Damn, you made me wanna go out there and live life the way I should.”

“What’s stopping you, Javy?” she handed him a beer, “the world is your playground.”

A couple hours later it was time to call it a night. Hugs went around, promises to meet up the following night and tabs were closed.

On their way out, Jake dropped a kiss to Y/n forehead, pulling her close to him as he led her to the door of the parking lot, “So what’s next for you, doll? You’ve proved you can be anything and anyone you chose to be,” he grins at her, “What will you set your mind to now after space?”

“First, I want to write a book—I think that’s something a lot have been waiting for me to do. Afterwards, well, I’ll have to wait a couple more years, but,” The corner of Y/n’s lips lift up before flashing a dazzling smile, “I’m thinking….the Oval Office is in need of a makeover. Don’t you think?”

Then, before he could answer, Y/n turns her head in the opposite direction as if she’s trying to find a hidden camera. Makes eye contact with you, the reader, winking before turning back to Jake where she sets off on her next adventure.

…………….

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa @artemissunn @pinkpantheris

#Spotify #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #hangman fluff #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick #TGM imagine #TGM fluff #barbie imagine #babrie!au #jake seresin fluff #dagger squad imagine #dagger squad x platonic!reader

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yurislotusgarden · 10 months

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Tying their hair up!

ʚїɞ Separately! Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya, Platonic! Kyouka Izumi x Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ I got this idea after seeing this post! It's not really related but I got the idea, so here it is. I will most likely make a part 2

ʚїɞ word count: 1206 (Dazai - 428, Chuuya - 446, Kyouka - 336)

ʚїɞ Tw's: None! Just pure fluff, pet names: 'bella, doll, reader's gender is not specified in any way (if it is please tell me so I can edit it)

ʚїɞ I WANNA THANK THE 22 PPL WHO FOLLOWED MY ACCOUNT <33 I did not expect ppl to like my works??? Like at all??? I actually posted my first works here thinking they're gonna end up with maybe 10-15 notes with luck, and there they are with much fucking more, so thank you if you interacted with any of my works<33

Dazai Osamu

If you entered the armed detective agency office at the moment, you would see people working, someone missing out on a job but the possibly first thing would be able to notice is that the workers are stealing confused glances at Dazai because… since when does he tie his hair up?

“Hey Dazai, what’s with your hair?” Kunikida asked, wanting to know why the oh so lazy bandage wasting machine changed his hair. In the 2 years he’s been working with him, he never saw the brunette tie his hair up.

“Oh? A fabulous question, Kunikida!” The grin on Dazai’s face could really compare to Kenji’s sun smile.

“I feel like I’m about to regret this question” A mutter from where Kunikida is standing was heard, but the older detective ignored it.

“You see Kunikida, my beloved Belladonna has done it! And I couldn't bring myself to ruin said happiness they got from seeing me with my hair like this, so I just came in like this!” The bandaged man had stars in his eyes upon recollecting what happened before he came to work.

Dazai looked like he was about to talk more about what happened earlier this morning… Yea Kunikida is regretting his questions, why did he have to ask?

//////////////////

Dazai was sitting on the floor in front of the couch between your legs while you were sitting on the couch behind him, tying his hair up into a ponytail around the back of his head since you decided it would be better for him instead of a higher one. Surprisingly, when tied up, the ponytail was quite long - longer than you first thought it would be.

“You were meant to tie my hair up, not play with it ‘bella” A subtle comment, but enough to get you to stop just running your fingers through his hair, you would've been done by now if you didn’t do that, but hey, you're gonna take any chance to play with his fluffy hair.

“you can’t blame me, your hair is too soft to not play with it when I have a chance” You chuckled, finishing up the ponytail and tapping his shoulder to indicate that you're done and he can stand up or turn around, whichever he prefers.

And as it is with Dazai, he preferred to turn around and hug your waist, burying his face in your abdomen.

…Goddammit you want to play with his hair like you always do when he’s like this, but you can't or you will have to repair the ponytail. Sigh.

Nakahara Chuuya

“Chuuya-san?” The ginger turned towards the voice, who turned out to be a woman with red-ish hair colored hair, Kōyō Ozaki.

“Yes, Ane-san?” The shorter of the two turned fully towards the taller woman.

“...May I ask what happened to your hair?... And where did your hat go?” Kōyō asked, actually confused. After all, it’s not every day that you see the hot-headed executive with his hair up, much less without his hat. She’s sure she barely ever saw him take it off besides when in closed private spaces, and his hair being tied up into a high ponytail? She never saw it, but even tho she doesn't voice it out, she thinks the look really does fits the man.

“Ah, I decided to leave the hat at home for once, it would destroy the hair.”

“Why do you not want the ponytail gone?” Kōyō understands that technically it’s easier to do things when your hair is tied up, but she knows that longer hair never caused any problems to the short mafioso.

“[Name] is the one who made it, and they seemed really happy to see it on me”

///////////////

“Please Chuu?” You asked for maybe the hundredth time today, -surprised your boyfriend still has patience for you- about to give up on asking your partner if he would let you tie his hair up. You just wanted to see what he would look like! You can bet your life he would look better than those guys on magazines many droll over. They could never compare to your boyfriend anyway.

A sigh could be heard in the room, a head full of orange hair moving to look at you. Chuuya was getting ready to go to the Port Mafia Headquarters and was about to say no, but when he looked over… yea it was over for him before it started.

“Just don’t rip my hair out, doll”

“Hey! You know I’m gonna be careful!”

Next thing you two knew, he was sitting in front of the mirror while you were standing behind him, making the ponytail high on the back of his. ‘Why is his hair so soft wtf’ had appeared in your head but didn't voice it out.

You hooked your arms around his shoulders and neck, putting your chin on his head. “You look so pretty like this” When Chuuya looked at you in the mirror -as if he wasn't the whole time- the soft smile you had on simply killed him. He couldn't bring himself to destroy the little thing that made you happy so he ended up shocking your ass later on by not bringing his hat to work for once.

Platonic! Izumi Kyouka

just to see how she looks

“You look so cute!”

“Really?”

You and Kyouka were the only ones apart from the clerks and Yosano in the clinic doing who knows what in the agency building as the others had missions, so you decided to do random things as you have already ended all the paperwork assigned to you for the day.

“Your hair is perfect for any kind of hairstyle but I think you look adorable with a ponytail, it suits you” You smiled at her. It really did fit her the same as her usual hairstyle, you just wish you had some hair accessories at the moment. Her hair would look even better!

“I’m glad you think so [Name]” A soft voice came from the younger girl.

You two continued to make small talk while you fixed her hair, before turning towards the office door when it opened.

“What you two doing over here?” Yosano looked at the two of them with a small smile appearing when she noticed Kyouka’s hair change.

“Messing with Kyouka’s hair. There’s not much to do at the office at the moment but we shouldn't leave the office yet, it’s still quite early” You said quietly, starting to look through your desk to see if you have any accessories for hair. Colorful to be specific.

“Hmm, Can I add myself to the fun?”

“You want to do something with my hair?”

“I have hair clips and more in my infirmary desk”

You looked up at her with stars in yours with such speed that Yosano couldn't help but ask herself if your neck is okay.

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go to your office, Kouka’s hair needs something more!”

The rest of the agency slowly started to come back one by one, to not only Kyouka’s hair being colorful from hairclips and more, but also to yours and Yosano’s hair being the same. There was some confusion about what they missed, Atsushi and Kenji just so happened to join in, to say the least.

Notes, comments, reblogs and anything else is greatly appreciated <3

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daisygirlwrites · 1 year

Text

Rookie Mistake

Summary: Alternative title, How You Got Your Call Sign

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, minor character death

Pairing(s): Task Force 141 x fem!Reader (Platonic)

Note: No use of (Y/N). Only description of the reader is that she’s short

a/n: hey there! first and foremost, big thanks to @einno-arko for editing it! please check out her page! it has been a long time since i’ve written a fanfic so do forgive me for how rough this is. it is also 3 in the morning as im typing, woops. also, would love to hear feedback so i can make improvements in future works. thank y’all!

Being short has its advantages at times. For your job as a sniper, you could be placed anywhere without being seen. During your basic and special forces training, where most people are at least a head taller than you, you were taught techniques for someone only your size can pull off.

The man in front of you is probably the tallest person you’ve seen on the field. At least two feet taller than you and all muscle. ‘Tank’, his teammates call him. Truly matches the description. You try not to think about how one of his hands can wrap around your neck and squeeze the life out of you.

Instead, you pull out your knife and charge towards him. He runs towards you, arms up and ready to take a swing. Expecting a punch, you lean your upper body forward, keeping your head low. On your last step, you push upwards with your foot. Tank misses you, his stance uneven and his legs still wide open.

For a millisecond, you thought about slicing the area between his thighs, making things easier for you in the long run. Instead, you stick with the training that’s been engraved into your head. Diving in the open space between his legs, you run your knife through his inner thigh, hoping it’s deep enough to at least damage the femoral artery.

Tank lets out a scream and staggers forward as you slide down on the floor. With his back to you, you push your body up and sprint towards him. The ideal situation is for you to get to him and pull his head back enough to slice his throat. But life isn’t always ideal.

To your shock, he quickly gets up onto his feet and turns around, facing you. As if his strength doubled, he knocks the knife out of your hand and, for a split second, your eyes follow the knife as it flies across the room. That was all Tank needed, grabbing both of your arms and lifting you up. Yeah, you should have just sliced his dick.

It was at this time that the rest of the team entered the room. The sight was almost comical; you being held up, legs dangling like a rag doll. Tank casts a quick glance from the corner of his eye. All four men with their rifles up, pointing towards the two of you, but it was the one with a skull mask that made his body break out into a cold sweat. Four against one are really bad odds, especially with an injured leg.

Tank still has you held out, practically using you as a human shield for the upper half of his body. But with your insistent wiggling and attempts at kicking him, it becomes more difficult for him to keep a grip on you.

He knows that he probably won’t leave this room alive, and he’d rather die than to surrender. Tank goes through his options, looking at the small soldier in his hands. ‘Should have grabbed them by the neck.’ As soon as he makes a move, the men in front of him will too.

“Just drop them mate!” A heavy Scottish accent is heard throughout the room.

Tank stays silent, eyes darting around the room, trying to find the means of escape. His train of thought became illogical. As he looks around his environment, he tries to avoid meeting the eyes of the man with the skull mask. ‘Ghost’ is his name. His dark eyes never leave Tank’s.

If he’s going to Hell, he won’t be going alone. Spotting the window to his right, his body moved before his brain could process what was happening. Tank twists his upper body and, with the last of his strength, he hurls you through the glass

During your time with the team, which was about six months when you first joined, you’ve kept quiet. Never raising your voice and only talking when you’re addressed. So, when they hear you yelp and let out a high-pitched scream as they watch your body crash through the window, they would have laughed if the circumstances were different.

As soon as your body stopped shielding him, Ghost took the shot. He watched as the large man slammed down to his knees, blood running down his face from the bullet hole on his head, before finally falling forward.

Getting thrown out the window sounds fun, besides landing on the glass and the very high chance of death. Any other person would have a couple of broken bones, but it seems like you had lady luck on your side today. For one, the warehouse is only one story high, and you’re all padded up. Without your gear and helmet, there would have been more puncture points from the shards. But the impact from hitting the ground doesn’t leave you unscathed. Something is probably broken, sprained, if not bruised. You don’t feel it now but it’s going to suck ass later. Laying on your side, you look around, trying to not move your body in the process. There are probably hundreds, maybe even thousands, of glass shards surrounding you.

“ROOKIE!” Soap comes running towards you.

You open your mouth, wanting to tell him to be careful but Ghost’s rough voice cuts you off. “Dammnit Johnny, watch out for the fuckin’ glass!”

Soap slows his movements, making calculated hops to avoid the sharp shards. “Heya lassie, how ya feeling?”

Not having the energy for a filter, you responded. “Felt like I got thrown out a window. Fuckin’ hell, Soap, what do you think?!”

Seeing his eyes widen, you immediately regret the words that came out of your mouth. “Holy shit, Soap. I am so sorry.”

He lets out a hearty laugh as he stops before you. He gives you a look over, trying to find any visibly large shards of glass embedded in your body. Seeing as there isn’t any visible, Soap sticks his hand out. Surprised to find how badly your arm is shaking, he gently grabs your forearm and pulls you up.

“You really are Ghost’s mini-me,” he chuckles.

“Huh?”

“Already picking up his humor and stealing his catchphrase.”

“Oh!” You look down, thanking your balaclava for hiding your flushed face.

With his arm under yours, you lean on him, slowly limping your way towards the rest of the team. Price took another look at you, spotting at least a dozen little glass shards that punctured your jacket and pants. “Best to have the med team take them out of you. The heli will be here in five.”

You can feel Ghost’s eyes burning holes into your head. You realize that during your next training sessions, he’s going to roast the ever living fuck out of you about what happened today. Dread begins to sink in.

—

With your left arm bare and the interior of the heli cold, you try to minimize your shivering so that the medic can properly do their job. You guessed that the guys would at least wait until you get back to base before they made jokes, but you were very wrong.

“Rookie, you literally got yeeted out the window.” Gaz was the first to break the silence.

“Yes, Gaz, I know.”

“We should have a contest to see how far each of us can throw her.” Soap barked out, joining in on the teasing.

“I would prefer not, Soap.”

And it went on for a little while longer, and you, again, were thankful for having your balaclava on so they wouldn’t see that you’re dying on the inside.

“Probably gonna stop calling you Rookie now.” Much to everyone’s surprise, they turn to Ghost.

You tilt your head, confused, before he continues. He stares at you, the heli quiet besides the hum of the wings. A beat later he speaks up again, “I think I’ll call you Crash.”

You follow with an immediate, “Oh hell no.”

At this point, Soap and Gaz are giggling like schoolgirls. Price turns away, lips pulled tight but his shoulders shaking up and down in muffled laughter. Ghost’s eyes narrow, but you can tell he has a smug grin under his mask.

“Crash it is then!”

“Don’t encourage him, Soap!”

“Sorry lassie, it’s law now, we outrank you.” He smiles at you.

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you let out a quiet chuckle. Lifting your head up from your hand, you quietly say, “Fine. Just don’t tell anyone about this”

You watch Soap nod and Gaz give you a thumbs up before you pull down your balaclava, giving them a smile.

#daisygirlwrites #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #price x reader

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the-s1lly-corner · 1 month

Text

Sharing the bed with various CRP characters 1/2

Same song and dance as the cuddling post! If theres any characters you want to see, let me know! If theres also any specific scenarios you want to see dont hesitate to drop them, love doing these kinds of posts

Characters: Slenderman, Splendorman, Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Masky, Hoodie, Jeff, Puppeteer

Notes: Reader is GN, can be seen as romantic or platonic

CWs: mentions of blood but it's nothing huge, better safe than sorry though

Slenderman

He hardly ever crawls into bed with you, on nights where he is with you he tends to linger in the corner- or if you insist, he will take a seat on the foot of your bed if you feel the first was.. creepy.. not that this solution is any better- he is never going to lay down, thus, with a broken heart I have to give him the first rating of 1/10, with his only saving grace that he will protect you should anything happen

Splendorman

Unlike his fellow slenderbeing, Splendor is more than willing to crawl into bed and try to lay with you! It's a bit of a tight fit, though, even with him manipulating his body as small as it can get... it can get a little uncomfortable, unfortunately. And spirit can only make someone so comfortable.. 3/10

Eyeless Jack

I personally headcanon that hes on the shorter side- 5'5 to 5'7, so thankfully space isnt an issue! He runs cold, so if the nights are hot hes a good option for a cuddle buddy! But how is he in his sleep? He sleeps like a rock- he doesnt move or shift around all that much so you're unlikely to be disturbed! He.. does snore, though, or at least that's what it loosely is. Its more like gurgling due to any of his gripping goo getting into his throat- not a good noise.. will wake up coughing and spluttering.. 5/10, a pretty average sleeping experience

Laughing Jack

He doesnt need to sleep and he can only pretend sleep for so long before he gets antsy- it takes him a while to understand that you need your sleep and how much you need. He doesnt mind staying in bed and cuddling with you to pass the time- hes very large, warm, and comfy so it's not a terrible set up! Sometimes pretends sleep, complete with a fake snore. A little big for the bed at I feet tall, and sometimes snatches the blanket to fully sell the "fake sleep" thing as well as rag dolling on you 6/10

Masky

He doesnt sleep around you, it's just a little quirk of his that he doesnt let his guard down at all- he doesnt exactly distrust you but its.. complicated. Hesitant when you offer to let him crawl into bed with you, he's rather fond of the little perch hes made in the corner of your room, but you cannot deny that he looks like a sleep paralysis demon to your fuzzy sleepy brain. Still as a corpse in bed, WILL yank the blanket back if you steal it in your sleep 7/10 not very disruptive otherwise

Hoodie

Will crawl into bed with you and get up close to you, loves pulling you close to him during the night. Falls asleep after you do, though he probably watches you in your sleep... smells like wet leaves and mulch 7.5/10, he let's you take his hoodie sometimes or even just crawl into it with him. Does not give a shit if it gets stretched out he can always get another one. Sleeps between you and the door to the bedroom

Jeff

Heavy sleeper and he snores loud, so good luck with that. Probably also a blanket thief. Bounces between staying up all night or falling asleep the second he hits the bed- really it depends on what hes been up to... at least he usually has the manners to take his bloodstained hoodie off before crawling into your bed.. probably kicks in his sleep.. 4/10

Puppeteer

Very hard and very cold, and I don't think he would need to sleep but can if he desires. Wants to be the one cuddled, just make sure to bundle up with some extra blankets so you can stay warm! Doesnt snore but you can hear his joints creak with each movement- you know, puppet stuff.. 5/10, not terrible but not spectacular

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta imagine #slenderman x reader #Splendorman x reader #eyeless jack x reader #laughing jack x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #jeff the killer x reader #puppeteer x reader

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princessanonymous · 5 months

Text

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

Trigger Warning: A bit of gore and death

13. 𝓒𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓼𝓸𝓷 𝓟𝓾𝓷𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽

A soft knock echoed through the room, yet it was met with a disheartening silence. Undeterred, he entered, his presence a commanding force in the quiet space. "You cannot confine yourself in your room all night," the vampire declared with stern authority, a hint of frustration lingering in his tone.

She responded only by rolling in her bed, seeking refuge under the covers. He tried to ignore how this reaction crushed a small part within him.

"Tell me," he pressed on, "what did you expect to get out of this? Did you wish to die in the cold?"

His mind revisited the events of three nights ago. She had almost died. That was the cold harsh truth. It was sickening, horrifying even. It had terrified him in a way he hadn’t expected. Scenarios of what could have happened made dread gawk at his inside. The fact was that he had been lucky to find her, Dorian could have tried searching for her in the opposite direction. She would have been attacked and there would have been no one to protect her from that vermin. After bringing her back, he had remained by her side all day as she slept, the events of the night having left her completely drained of any energy. He had listened as she let out soft expirations, as her mortal heart beated and watched as her chest slowly rose and fell.

So weak…

Her existence was so ephemeral.

That night, as these thoughts had crossed his mind, Dorian had inched closer to her neck. He could fix this. He could make her better and everlasting; eternal. His daughter – his sweet doll – could forever remain safe and unaltered by time. But he didn’t. He couldn’t turn her at this instant, no matter how much he wished to. It was forbidden to do so to a child her age. He had to wait.

Tonight, as he stepped into her room, he wanted to tell her that, had he not been there to save her, she might have met an untimely demise. That this was the reason why she hadn't been allowed to go out. Yet, the words remained trapped in his mouth, sealed between his lips.

Resigned to the persistent silence, he seated himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on her form cocooned beneath the covers. "It didn't hurt you. It is gone now," he spoke with a gentler cadence, seeking to comfort.

Dorian liked when the child was calm and well behaved, but this depressing silence was not what he had wished for. Her response was an unyielding silence, prompting him to rise with a sense of resignation.

"What," she started with a scratchy voice, breaking the silence, "was that ?"

He halted, turning back to her with a glimmer of hope at the sound of her voice. "What do you mean, starshine?" he inquired, his tone inviting conversation and relieved that she was willing to engage.

"The monster," she whispered, a tremor of fear evident in her voice.

He sighed, grappling with the decision of whether to disclose the truth. Eventually, he settled back down, choosing to take advantage of her sudden willingness to speak. Refusing to answer would only make her retreat into her shell once again.

"To complete the process of turning a person into a vampire, that person must drink the blood of the vampire that bit them. A Sanguini, the thing you saw, is what results if that last step isn't taken. Slowly, these creatures turn into ravenous beasts, going mad with bloodlust. They aren't vampires, but rather something far more disgraceful and pathetic. The shame of our world."

Silence persisted as she absorbed this revelation. The vampire lifted the covers, unveiling her tear-streaked face. His fingers traced the contours of her cheek as he admitted, "I feared for your safety," his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability, emotions surfacing against his intentions.

She turned her back to him. "I want my mum," she mumbled.

His hands clenched involuntarily, resentment tinged with regret at how even in death, the woman retained significance for the girl. "I am here," he declared, the unspoken words ‘And she isn't’ hanging in the air.

Her response was silence. "You have me," he asserted more firmly, his fingers gently threading through her hair. "And you need me," he added, a subtle plea beneath his words. She needed him. Just as much as he needed her.

⊱ ────── {⋆☾⋆} ────── ⊰

The atmosphere hung heavy with a somber hush, disrupted occasionally by the clatter of utensils against porcelain as she quietly partook in her meal. Her eyes would intermittently dart toward the vampire sharing the table, yet they swiftly retreated back to the contents of her plate. It marked their first shared dinner since the harrowing incident a week ago. As she cautiously chewed her food, the unspoken tension in the air lingered. Did the vampire across from her anticipate a gesture of thanks? Did he expect acknowledgement for his actions, or was he simply indifferent to her feelings? Gratitude, however, was a complex sentiment to navigate when mixed with the knowledge that he was also the perpetrator of her parents' death.

Leaving during the cold winter night had been reckless, even perilous. The storm's cruel embrace had slowed her journey, and she found herself fortunate to have escaped the clutches of the biting cold. The storm had slowed her down and she was lucky she hadn't died from the cold… or that awful beast. She finished her meal in silence, rising without uttering a word. As she moved to leave, he halted her with an unexpected announcement.

"I have something for you."

With a subtle yet firm touch, the vampire guided her towards the door of the basement, a realm she had yet to explore. There was an air of mystery about the descent into the lower levels, an uncharted territory that piqued her curiosity. Descending the stairs, she couldn't help but notice a serene smile gracing the duke's face, adding an enigmatic layer to the unfolding scenario.

The pathway, illuminated by the flickering light of torches lining the walls, exuded an eerie chill that seemed to cling to the air. As (Y/n) and the vampire continued their exploration, a distant door loomed at the far end of the corridor shrouded in shadows. However, they never reached it. The journey paused at a second door.

The first thing that came to her was the putrid smell. Next, was the figure slumped against the wall opposite to her. The duke widened the door, ushering light into the room.

She recoiled, a futile hand pressed against her mouth, but the horrified scream still erupted. Mary, the servant who had unwittingly aided her escape, lay there. (Y/n)'s eyes collided with vacant sockets. The girl slumped in the corner, bathed in blood. (Y/n)'s gaze trailed down her face, fixing on the throat. A crimson grin seemed to mock her. The slash across her throat emanated more life than her lifeless, gaping mouth.

One arm and one leg were bent at awkward angles as though she was a marionette that had been carelessly dropped. The remaining limbs lay a few meters away, severed from the rest. Entrails spilled unceremoniously on the floor.

(Y/n) crumpled to her knees, legs weakened. The world around her blurred as waves of anguish crashed over her, threatening to engulf every ounce of composure she possessed. In the midst of her torment, she unleashed a guttural scream of pain and despair that echoed through the emptiness around her. Tears streamed down her face as uncontrollable sobs wracked her body.

Two hands steadied her shoulders. "Take this as a warning," he declared, the words carrying a weight that extended beyond their immediate meaning. His grip on her shoulders tightened, the pressure a physical manifestation of the gravity of his words. "Actions have consequences, my dear."

The vampire leaned closer until his lips almost touched the girl's ear. His voice, low and intense, carried a chilling warning. "Don't you dare try to leave again," he hissed, the words spoken with a sense of finality. The proximity of his threat sent shivers down her spine. “I will find you. I will always find you. And everyone involved will have to pay for your foolishness," he affirmed, the weight of those words emphasizing an unwavering determination

He rose, leaving her sobbing in the wake of his departure, the door closing behind him.

(Y/n) clutched her chest, sobbing harder. This was her fault. She had brought this upon a poor girl who had done nothing wrong. And here she was now; forced to confront the consequences of her actions. She wept until no more tears flowed, until her voice became too hoarse to continue.

#platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere vampire #yandere father #obsession #yandere #vampire #platonic #x reader #female reader #reader insert #child reader #yandere x reader #fanfic #cw: gore #tw g0re

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