#she is just a mother‚‚‚‚‚wanting to have a family again

[creedslove]

JOEL'S EX WIFE WANTING HIM BACK - HEADCANONS ✨

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: hi besties!!! Just a small little idea I got while I was watching some good old female rivalry soap opera drama over breakfast ❤️

Warnings: Sarah is a teen here ❤️

• when you got together with Joel, Sarah was already 12, her mom had been gone since she was a baby and though neither of them had any problems about talking about what happened, it wasn't a frequent subject, even if they treated it with naturally, they didn't like talking about it and it was completely understandable, after all, Joel had been abandoned with a weeks old baby and that baby had to grow up without her mother around

• so you always simply decided to pretend she never really existed in the first place, and technically, in your life, she never really did it, because from the moment you began dating Joel, he wasn't her ex-husband anymore, but instead, he was your boyfriend, and Sarah wasn't really her daughter, but your stepdaughter and you both had learned how to love and enjoy each other's company

• you were leading a happy life with the Millers, being part of their household and falling into the same routine as they did, as you spent longer at their place than at your own, until it didn't make any sense for you to keep paying rent, after all, you and Joel were very much together and in love and the natural course of your relationship would be of course, getting married or something like that

• you were happy with your little family, Sarah's issues regarding her mom seemed to be filled up pretty good by you once you joined the family, as she finally had someone she could talk to about boys and other girl stuff. She also really approved yours and Joel's relationship, always commenting on how happy you made her dad and how nice it was to have a more family like routine

• things were good and happy and you couldn't wish for anything more than that, you were as pleased as you could be, and you were pretty sure Joel was the man of your dreams, there was no way you could love someone as much as you loved him and so was the story of how the Millers became a very happy family

• and that was why it shocked the fourth of you - because Tommy was hella shocked as well - when Sarah's mom, Angela, decided to get in touch with Joel; she had found him on Facebook and messaged him, much to his shock, he'd done the same with Sarah, just like that, texting the daughter she'd abandoned as if she was just an old pal saying hello after losing touch for years

• at first, the two of them decided to ignore it, not sure how to act or how to even respond to it, but after a couple of days more in which Angela kept insisting on texting, more like begging Joel for a chance to talk, he decided to talk to his daughter and get to a conclusion together and after considering a lot together, they decided they would answer to her and see what she wanted

• and of course Angela sent quite a few sob sad texts saying how hard things were for her, how much she'd missed her family and mostly her daughter and how she regretted leaving. Joel wasn't quite convinced with that, quite the opposite, he was still bitter and angry at everything that went on, but he could tell Angela's words somehow messed up with Sarah's feelings, after all, she was a reject baby by her mom and at some level, she needed her approval in any way

• so Joel and Sarah agreed to meet up with Angela again, something small, at a coffee shop where they could all sit down and talk things through so they could see how things went between them, you'd also decided not to show up, it was such an intimate moment, you didn't belong in that scenario and you also had no reasons to be suspicious of Joel, you loved and trusted him and he trusted and loved you back, there was no reason to worry about anything at all

• you were genuinely happy to know Sarah had warmed up for her mom and the two of them hit off, having a lot in common and deciding to spend more time together, going on dinners, lunches and movie sessions together; it seemed Angela's presence was a benefit for them, and it was, you liked to see Sarah so happy about her return, it only became a problem when Angela started to show up more and more often at Joel's home

• it was your home too, and as much as you didn't want to be selfish or annoying, you had to admit it bothered you A LOT she was all the time around, at first she started with smaller things, such as visiting you all on Sunday afternoon, or bringing up a dessert, which of course, had to be Joel's favorite and kept gushing about the times they were still married; Angela was a pretty woman, you couldn't deny that, and the fact she seemed so willing to be nice and pleasant around her ex-husband

• and that imposition of her presence into your house and your family was beginning to bother you even more; suddenly, Sarah didn't want to go to the mall with you anymore, instead, she wanted to go with her mom. She didn't want to bake cookies with you anymore because your cookies had that sugar thing in the bottom so she liked her mom's better and as much as you tried understanding Sarah needed and had all the right to enjoy her mom's company and presence, it still hurt you, because you missed Sarah, and yet, it felt as if you weren't important to her anymore

• Seeing the shifts in your dynamics with Sarah, Joel tried to be understanding and even offered himself to talk to her, but you dismissed the idea, it was embarrassing enough you were feeling jealous, you didn't need Joel to get into the middle of that, but it still made you upset when Sarah decided to go to the movies with her mom to watch the newest Ghostbusters movie you two had agreed on going together

• and just as Angela stole Sarah from you, she was more than willing to steal Joel as well: she wanted him, he was even more handsome, his business became successful and he lived comfortably and now Sarah wasn't an annoying baby anymore, it was fun to be around her and she wanted her family back

• so to you, things started going sour when you decided to stop by Joel's business to bring him lunch; you'd prepared him a pretty good lunchbox and you were very excited to see his reaction, however, when you got to his small office, you found him and Angela eating a foot long sub, as it was kind of an inside joke between them from when they were young

"oh shit baby, I had no idea you'd bring me lunch, if I knew it..."

• Joel said wiping his mouth with a napkin as he had sauce on his beard like an idiotic child would and it made your blood boil, Angela simply smirked at you and you knew exactly what she was doing, your gut feeling was right all along, she was a filthy bitch

"it's fine Joel, it's just a sandwich, it's not like you're cheating"

• you didn't know exactly why you said that, it was the first time in your life you had ever said that towards Joel because it had never even crossed your mind there might be a possibility of it happening, but once you said those sour words, an awkward silence, a think tension in the room spread and you felt extremely uncomfortable to be there

"I'm sorry, you can give the lunchbox to Tommy in case he hasn't had lunch if you want, that way the food won't go to waste"

• you told Joel and turned to Angela, you didn't want to hide how much you didn't like the fact she snuck into his office to bring him lunch like a devoted wife

"you know, it's an odd choice to bring your ex-husband lunch instead of your daughter, I'm sure Sarah is starving right now..."

• in the evening, Joel felt very bad about what had happened, he hadn't done anything wrong, but at the same time it was wrong because even if it was just a sandwich, it wasn't about the sandwich but rather who had brought it to him, he knew it had hurt your feelings and he wanted to make it up to you, so he arrived home, using all his charms, his puppy eyes, his sweet talking and his soft neck kisses to convince you to go out with him; he was going to take you out for dinner: at a restaurant, not a bar for beer and burgers, but an actual meal

• you enjoyed your time with him, appreciating his effort to make something nice for you, so you grabbed a table, ordered meals and enjoyed each other's companies, as Joel held your hand and talked about his day, telling you how much he'd missed you and how gorgeous you were, dinner was going smoothly and what happened during lunch time had almost faded from your mind, when you heard someone clearing their throat

"oh hey... Enjoying some romantic dinner? That's a good place, right? Joel used to bring me here every so often, money was very short back then, but he always made an effort"

• Angela gave the two of you a bright smile, loving every single ounce of anger that clearly went through your face, what the fuck was that disgusting woman doing there? Why did she have to ruin your date night like that? It made your blood boiling, Joel immediately sensed the tension and tried coming up with something to say, but Angela just shrugged

"I came over just to grab myself some dinner, excuse me and enjoy your evening"

• she faked sympathy and blew Joel a kiss, knowing damn well the whole evening was already ruined for you, which made her pretty good about herself

• once you got home, you decided to have a heartfelt conversation with Joel, tell him every single thing that was bothering you, after all, communication had always been a big deal for you and it was important for you to open up and be straightforward about the matter, and he agreed with you, he said Angela was crossing the boundary and he assured you he was gonna talk to her

• so during the next few days, things were alright again between you and your sweet Joel; you were still very much in love and Sarah had been so busy with her tests at school, you didn't even hear of Angela's name and you'd be lying if you said you weren't happy about it, it was a relief she wasn't around and you even suggested Joel to make barbecue on Saturday, you'd have an extra shift but then you could enjoy the weekend with your family

• he gladly accepted it and you spent the rest of your week quite excited for it, you liked his barbecue, it was such a dad trait he had and you wanted to spend some time in bed with him too, once you arrived from work, you smiled as you saw Tommy's truck and you could smell the delicious scent of food, as you got off your own car, you went straight to the backyard, smiling from ear to ear

• but it didn't last long, your smile died when you spotted Angela; she was wearing a short summer dress and laughed happily at something Joel said, it must've been so funny because Sarah was laughing too. Angela was holding a bowl of egg salad and the moment she saw you, her own smile died, as if she was the one who had her day ruined by an intruder in her family, and not the other way around

• you frowned as Sarah sighed at seeing you, it didn't take a rocket science genius to see she was disappointed in seeing you there, as if you had got in the way between her mom and dad, you stared at Joel, your eyes filling up with angry tears as he immediately walked to you, holding you by the waist

"baby..."

"I'm going to the bathroom to wash my face and when I come back I don't wanna see this woman here, I've had enough, I don't care if she's your ex or Sarah's mom, she clearly wants to take my place and sometimes I feel like she has already..."

"don't say that, baby girl, that's not true"

"so get rid of her Joel"

• you left to the bathroom so you could freshen up and clear up your mind; hoping she would be gone by then, you didn't want to see her at all, so once you stepped into the kitchen, you were ready to start your weekend, with the exception of the scene before your eyes: Angela's lips on Joel's

• you felt as if you lost the ground from under your feet, and even if Joel shoved her away from him and began apologizing one hundred times, you'd had enough; Angela got what she wanted: you out of the way

• you ignored everything Joel said, as you blinked your tears and shook your head, leaving the house, the house that used to be your home, but now you weren't so sure; maybe all you did all that time was fill up the absence of Angela, and now, that Joel and Sarah had the original one, they didn't need you anymore

• that was only one out of many thoughts that crossed your mind, you didn't want to believe that, you loved Joel and Sarah and you wanted to continue thinking they also love you, but your heart was broken and Joel Miller was to blame 💔

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

[gglitch1dd]

How would Dilf Izuku react if anything happened to reader when she is in labor? For example maybe she faints because she’s losing too much blood (sorry if this doesn’t make sense)

(Sorry for answering so late Anon)

Interesting thing about DILF Izuku is the fact that he is there for EVERY single birth. He is there. He gets the call from the hospital saying that you're in labour and he literally tells his PA that he's officially on leave and no one can say otherwise.

After the first two times, he's gotten the hang of what he's supposed to do and what his role is as your husband. He takes his job very seriously.

He's there to hold you whenever you want him to.

He's an errand boy and he picks up the articles of clothing that you end up throwing off yourself during labour.

He's the object to your verbal abuse while in labour. Yes, he knows it's his fault. Yes, he knows you want to kill him. Yes, he knows that this is another sprout you got to push out of your vajayjay. Yes, he still loves you. Yes, he's going to shut up now.

He supports you with loving words. He's right there by your side. He's scared shitless but he doesn't show it because he knows that you need him to be strong when you feel so helpless to the force of nature that his child birth.

Don't faint. Just sit there and look pretty.

Those are the jobs he has listed for himself among many others like make sure his mom is looking after the boys and have the baby bag ready and not to get a speeding ticket while doing so.

Your final pregnancy with Koda was a scary one. Mostly because you were high risk at the time and other than a small fainting scare, you were fine. Everything was fine. The labour was normal and you delivered the baby safe and sound.

A squealing and crying little baby boy that had deep forest green hair and a set of pipes to wake up the dead. He was beautiful and Izuku was so proud of you. He held you with gentle kiss to the top of your head, tears in his eyes at the sight of his new baby boy.

And for five minutes, everything was perfect. Your son was placed on your chest and the three of you were together. Father, mother and son.

Until suddenly, nothing was okay.

"Izuku..." Your voice was breathy as you raised your hand to hold his arm.

Izuku looked away from his son to you. "Yes?" It took less than a second and Izuku knew that nothing was okay. You weren't okay. You were fading, and you were fading fast. Your eyes were fluttering and suddenly your heart rate was declining. He stood up straight. "Y/N. Y/N! Y/N stay with me." He shouted as one of the nurses went running to check on your vitals.

One of the midwives took the baby out of your arms, the newborn's face twisting into a cry at the shouting.

You tried looking at your husband and you tried focusing on him but your breaths were too slow and far between and your eyes were too heavy to stay open. Izuku held your hand, frozen, trying to figure out what was happening. Why weren't you awake anymore?

Why were you still bleeding?

What did the doctor say? Why were you still here?

Why was he just standing there. Why did he let them position him away from you?

Why couldn't he hear a thing?

His wife was there! You were right there! Yet he was... helpless.

And that's when the sinking terror settled in. The reminder that as a father, Izuku could do nothing when it came to this process. He could do nothing. He wasn't a doctor, he wasn't a nurse, he wasn't God. He could do nothing but watch as his beautiful wife, his beautiful loving wife, mother to five of his children, lay there as they tried to stop the bleeding and wake you up.

Izuku moved to grab onto your hand again, and he prayed. He prayed so hard that his mother would probably be impressed right about now.

How a man who had everything, who had the money, got the fame, the influence, the wife, the kids, the family that he wanted, was reduced to nothing but tears and begging for you to not leave him.

Your eyes opened as you turned to look at your right hand. Holding your hand in a death grip was the hands of your husband. You could only see the head of his hair as he seemed to be kneeling at the side of your bed. You heard him muttering and saying something but you weren't exactly sure.

You raised an eyebrow. "Izuku?"

Your husband raised his head, and that's when you saw his beautiful green eyes were red with tears as they just fell from his eyes. He looked up at you as if you were a ghost for a moment before a sob came out of his mouth as he pulled your hand to his face. He cried and you didn't know why he was crying.

Didn't you just take a nap?

"Izu, are you okay?" You asked him gently. "Why are you crying? Where's the baby?" You asked looking around. Your body felt heavy but that was labour for you.

Izuku couldn't let go of you. "Oh thank God." He let out with a sigh. He kissed the back of your hand as he refused to look away from you.

-Glitch1d

#dilf midoriya #dilf deku #dilf izuku midoriya #dilf izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #mha x y/n #deku x reader #mha

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 11

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

“How about dinner?” Steve asks as he stretches his arms above his head.

Your eyes wander the muscles of his arms, still bulging and round despite his age. He makes you feel lesser. You’re probably half his age and you’re all soft and cushy. You have nothing to admire. You scratch your scalp, itchy from the layer of sweat, and shrug.

Before he drops his arms, you catch a peek of his stomach. You look at the ground guiltily. You don’t even know why you were looking at him. It’s rude to stare.

“Sure, honey,” your mom answers as you follow Steve to the deck, “you been working so hard today.”

“You like barbeque?” Steve stops and nudges you with his elbow as you come up beside him. You shy away.

“Er, sure.”

“Oh,” your mom’s cheeks twitch, “mm, that’ll be nice. A little family dinner.”

You shrink down. You’re standing right there and she forgot about you. Or just doesn’t want you there.

“Ice cream for dessert,” Steve pats your shoulder and you wince again. He squeezes before he steps forward, “Holly, you okay?” He asks as your mother’s head tremors. “You’ve been sitting out here for a while. Maybe I could send you over something instead.”

“I’m good,” she insists, gripping the sides of the chair. She stands with an effort. She doesn’t look well.

“Alright, I’ll get stuff ready. Could use some help,” he looks at you. Your mother rubs her lower back and flutters he lashes in your direction.

“I can help,” she insists before you can answer.

“Really, Holly, relax,” Steve counters, “I know you want to help, but...” he pauses and reaches to grab her quivering hand, “you should probably just sit down.”

“Oh,” she looks at his grip before it falls away. “Yeah, I... you’re right. I’m... thanks.”

She sits down, uncharacteristically demure. You’ve never seen that in her. Any time you reminded her of her sickness, even unintentionally, she got defensive. Not this time. She almost looks sad.

“Come on, I’ll share my famous recipe with you, then you can make some for your mom,” Steve says as he waves you towards the doors.

You shuffle behind him, offering no resistance. You wouldn’t want to stay in case your mom chose to direct her shame at you. She won’t say it to his face but she won’t have any problem sharing her displeasure with you.

You leave your shoes by the door, overly aware of your surroundings. Steve’s house is clean and spacious. He might have just moved in but you suspect it’s as much his standards as the newness. He leads you into the kitchen and you stand awkwardly by the counter.

“Should wash your hands,” he goes to the double sink and grabs the dish soap, “come here.”

You near him, hunched slightly, and he squeezes soap into his own hand before aiming the nozzle toward you. You hold out your hands and he squirts the liquid onto your palms. The water scours from the tap and you wet your hands, forced to stand closer than you like as you lather up the bubbles. You scrub your nails and get between your fingers, making sure to get as much as the residue as you can.

You rinse off and he grabs a hand towel, offering it to you first before he takes it and dries his hands. He hangs it and turns to the fridge. That’s fancy too. The door is glass and you can see the contents without opening it. He pulls the door and reaches within.

You wait listlessly as he takes out his ingredients. You shy away as he moves towards you, opening cupboards to pick out seasoning, then bending to grab a bowl from below. He plunks the large dish on the counter near you.

“How about you make us a salad, sweetie?” He grabs several veggies from his horde and sets them by the bowl, “knives are right there.”

He points to the block then opens another cupboard. He takes out a spinner and sets that out as well. He has all these nice things and fresh food. Your salads come out of plastic containers or bags.

You rinse off a pepper and put it on the cutting board. You slide out a knife and stare at the veggie before you slice into it. You chop it in half and seeds spill everywhere. You frown as they stick to your fingers. You try to move the heavy wooden board but can’t budge it. Instead, you rinse the inside of the pepper then wipe the board with your hand.

“Here, let me show you a trick,” Steve turns and takes the knife, “Cut the sides,” he takes the yellow pepper, “like this.” He expertly trims off each side then cuts them into neat slices, turning them to dice into squares. You watch quietly and he turns the handle of the knife to you. “See.”

You nod and take the knife. Doesn’t matter much, the red ones already halved. You do your best to cut out the middle with all the seeds and slice slower than him, careful of your fingers. It takes you far too long to do the tomato, with no shortage of gushing juices, and the onion.

As you add them all to the rinsed lettuce, Steve adds some crumbled soft cheese and croutons. You clean up the remnants of your work and he points you to the metal bin. You step on the pedal and dumb it all inside. You return to the counter as he pulls out another bowl.

“Now the burgers, we got the meat,” he unfolds a paper package and dumbs the ground beef into the bowl, “bread crumbs,” he shakes the tin, “but most important is the seasoning.”

He takes each slender container, measuring out the powders and dried herbs by sight alone. He names them each but you can’t keep track. He caps the last one and spreads his fingers wide.

“Now the good part,” he proclaims and kneads it all together with his hands.

You watch his fingers work, deft and confident. He mashes in the bread crumbs and seasoning then holds up his messy hands.

“You can help with the next part,” he takes a handful and rounds out the meat into a patty shape. “Just like that. Think we’ll do what? Six or so? Might want seconds after all that hard work.”

“Okay,” you reach in and take the cold beef. The texture is unnerving. You mimic his own motion, rolling it into a ball then flattening it. He puts the first one on the plate and you add yours to it.

“You’re quiet,” he comments.

You flick your eyes up and back down, reaching for more meat.

“Not that it’s bad. Shy? I know we’re just getting to know each other. That’s cool. But I get it,” he says as he takes a handful, “you know, it’s really something the way you look after your mom.”

You nod then shake your head, “she’s my mom.”

“Yeah, but... not everyone... would,” he says. “You know, you should give yourself more credit.”

You grumble and put down the patty in your hands.

“Well, if I’m gonna be around, I wanna help out, you know? You shouldn’t be taking this all on yourself. It’s amazing you’ve done it so far but... you’re young, you deserve to have some fun.”

You press your lips and roll another patty. You focus on the task as you watch your hands. He sniffs and lets out a deep breath.

“One day, you’re gonna make some lucky guy a good wife,” he says, “so you might as well enjoy your free time while you got it.”

You blink, surprised by his suggestion. That’s a far way off, if it ever happens. You don’t really know what will happen... after. You only ever worried about today. Tomorrow can wait.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #au #silverfox au #the girl next door #mcu #marvel #captain america

[blue-devil-of-the-lord]

Cute little Bamf

Kurt Wagner x fem!AFAB!reader Words: 1.3K Summary: Kurt is absolutely smitten by his little daughter. A/N: I used a gif of Alan Cummings Nightcrawler, however it works coompletely fine with any Nightcrawler, really.

As gently as he could, Kurt brushed a strand of hair from her face that was stuck to her forehead and smiled slightly as he looked down at her sleeping form. She looked exhausted, which she was, and her hair was messy with sweat, but he was glad to see that some colour had returned to her cheeks.

Lightly, so as not to wake her, he ran his hand over her cheek. No matter how exhausted she might look, for Kurt his wife was the most beautiful woman on earth, an angel sent by God. His attention briefly shifted to the small bed beside hers, and a surge of emotion washed over him. Here lay not just his beloved wife, but also the embodiment of their love—a pure, innocent soul they had brought into this world together.

When she had first brought up the subject of children a few months after their wedding, he had been sceptical, unsure.

On the one hand, he wanted nothing more than to have a family with the person he loved above all else, a testimony to their love.

On the other hand, he didn't know if she was aware of the full consequences. She was human, not mutant, and so far there had hardly been any offspring between mutants and non-mutants, especially not with mutants, whose physical appearance was so different. Kurt himself had taken a long time to come to terms with his outward appearance, and the thought of a child, his child, having to go through the same problems because of him didn't sit well with him.

She had shown remarkable patience and understanding, gently nudging him towards their shared dream of parenthood with unwavering reassurance. Never once did she pressure him, always respecting his hesitations and doubts. She made it clear that if he truly didn't want children, she wouldn't press the issue further. After two years of marriage, their mutual longing for a family outweighed his reservations. The journey to parenthood had been arduous, with Kurt feeling torn between his desire to fulfill his wife's wishes and his fear of the unknown.

He watched as his wife endured the challenges of pregnancy with strength and grace, feeling powerless to ease her burdens.

The birth itself had been a taxing ordeal, yet, in that moment when their daughter was placed in her mother's arms for the first time, any traces of pain or exhaustion vanished.

Their daughter.

Kurt's gaze shifted to the small cot beside his wife's hospital bed, ensuring she remained peacefully asleep before gently disentangling his hand from hers. With cautious steps, he approached the cot, his heart swelling with emotion at the sight before him.

She was perfect and the sight of her alone was enough to bring tears to his eyes again. When she had placed her little girl in his arms for the first time, he had been unable to stop the tears and had silently sent prayers of thanks to heaven.

In that sacred moment, he had made vows to cherish and protect this precious gift with all his being. And as he beheld his little Rachel, he felt a profound sense of responsibility and love wash over him, promising to fulfill his role as her father with unwavering devotion until the end of his day.

His wife had suggested the name because, on the one hand, it was a biblical name to honour Kurt's faith, but at the same time it was a normal name in both German and English, albeit pronounced and spelled differently.

Kurt would have married her again at that moment if he had been able to.

Rachel slumbered peacefully, mirroring her mother's deep rest, granting Kurt the opportunity to kneel beside her bed, captivated by her presence. As he observed her features, a mix of his own and his wife's, he marveled at the unique blend they had created. Though she inherited many of his distinct characteristics, they were softened by her mother's genetic influence.

Her complexion, not as deeply indigo as his own, resembled a more fainter blue, while her hair cascaded in a shade darker than his signature black-blue hue. Her eyes, previously open wide and full of curiosity, gleamed gold, not as intense as his, with larger pupils than he possessed.

She had one more digit on each hand and foot than he did, but they were just as long and slender as his. And while her body lacked the fur that adorned his own, the presence of a small tail with its distinctive spade-like tip unmistakably marked her as his.

Kurt felt a surge of gratitude that his wife had agreed to give birth at the Institute, recognizing that their daughter's unique appearance might have drawn unwanted attention in a non-mutant hospital. Just like her father.

Kurt lost track of time as he sat there, mesmerized by his daughter's stirring movements. When she finally awoke, her tiny face contorted in a mixture of confusion and discomfort, he swiftly rose to his feet. As she began to emit soft, plaintive sounds, Kurt instinctively hushed her with a gentle shushing noise.

"Shhh," he murmured softly, scooping her into his arms with a tenderness born of love and instinct. "Beruhige dich, mein Liebling. Sonst wecken wir Mama." He knew she couldn't understand his words, but the soothing tone seemed to have a calming effect on her. Her cries quieted as he rocked her gently, his movements lulling her into a peaceful state. Instead, she looked at him curiously out of her large, golden eyes while her tail whipped lazily through the air.

A tender smile graced Kurt's lips as he gently nudged Rachel with the tip of his tail, ensuring not to cause her any discomfort.

To his delight, she responded by wrapping her own tail around his, emitting soft sounds that tugged at his heartstrings. Kurt continued to rock her gently, minimizing any noise that might disturb her fragile peace.

In his arms, Rachel seemed impossibly small and delicate, igniting a fierce protective instinct within Kurt. The overwhelming urge to shield her from harm, to safeguard her against any obstacle that dared cross her path, surged through him like a tidal wave. It was a primal instinct, a father's love in its purest form, driving him to do whatever it took to ensure her safety and happiness.

He didn't know whether this thought should frighten him or whether he was justified as a father after all, so he pushed the thoughts aside.

A soft rustle drew Kurt's attention, and he turned to see his wife awake, her gaze filled with warmth and affection. Despite the traces of fatigue, a broad smile graced her lips as she looked upon them. Kurt hurried to her side, Rachel cradled in his arms, concern evident in his voice. "Did we wake you, Liebling? I'm sorry-"

He glanced towards the bedcovers, but his wife reached out for his hand, squeezing it lightly. "Don't be," she reassured him, her tone gentle. "I had the pleasure of waking up to this beautiful view." Kurt smiled slightly and turned in a sitting position so that she could look down at their daughter as well.

Kurt's wife continued to stroke Rachel's forehead tenderly, drawing out a few indistinct sounds from the baby. As Rachel's tail tightened around his own, Kurt let out a yelp of surprise, a sharp twinge of pain shooting through him. His wife couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction, the sound filled with affectionate amusement.

"Headstrong and cheeky like her Papa," his wife remarked, affection lacing her words. "And she looks like him too. If I hadn't given birth to her, I wouldn't even know if she was my child."

Kurt pressed a tender kiss to his wife's forehead before leaning against her, his tail finding its place around her hip. "Maybe at first glance. But she looks more like you than you realise," he murmured, his gaze drifting back to Rachel, who was lazily lashing her tail and blinking her eyes, yawning softly.

"To be honest, I don't care what she looks like," she whispered, her voice barely audible as they watched their daughter drift off to sleep. "She's our daughter. She's perfect." Kurt looked down at the little blue bundle - now asleep again - in his arms and smiled slightly.

" Indeed she is.“

#x men #x-men #x men comics #x men 97 #nightcrawler #kurt wagner #nightcrawler x reader #kurt wagner x reader #x men x reader

[domxmarvel]

Twst-Finding out their dating a queen

Masterlist 

Prompt: Q-Queen

Riddle 

“You’ll be working in pairs,you have one week to finish this project” You were assigned with Riddle,in other words you were in for a week of hell. The project was to research any important historical figure,and of course Riddle chose the queen of hearts. You knew there was no changing his mind so you just went with it. 

You were on your way to the library when you saw your mother walk through the hall,grabbing Riddle and quickly pulling him out of sight. Covering his mouth,he was gonna be mad but you didn’t care. Peaking over the corner you saw her,she really was here. Riddle grumbled into your hand,you moved it away from his mouth.

“What?”

“What do you mean what,what was that about?” Before you could stop him he peaked over the corner and was shocked “Is I-Is that the”

“Queen of hearts”

“She’s really here” Riddle ran off after her before you could stop him.You knew you shouldn’t but you still ran after him. The second you turned the corner you saw him talking to her,her gaze immediately shifted to you. 

“Y/N,my dear I’ve missed you.” Riddle’s face turned to confusion as he looked at you. 

“I’ve missed you too. What are you doing here?”

“Wait,hold on. Do you know the queen of hearts?”

“She’s my mother” Riddle looked like he was about to faint or something. “And that’s precisely why I never told you” Riddle was just frozen by your confession that the queen of hearts was your mother. 

“Does he usually react like this?”

Malleus 

“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long,my dear” Malleus walked up to you with a bouquet of flowers.

“You didn’t have to,I wasn’t waiting too long” You stood up,taking the flowers. “They’re beautiful” You kissed him. Soon enough you were sitting on the grass,braiding flowers through his hair. You could tell that he wasn’t as focused as usual,like his mind was elsewhere. “Malleus,what’s on your mind?” 

“My mother has decided it’s time to find me a bride” He said it like the words burned,and looking at you could make him crumble. You wanted to ask,you knew you shouldn’t but before you could say anything he spoke up again. “She didn’t even give me a chance to tell her about you,she insisted on me marrying this queen from the queendom of roses” 

“Malleus,have you talked to this queen?”

“No,and I don’t want to. I want you,and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure we’re not separated”

“Malleus,the queen of the queendom of roses is me”

“Why have you never told me this?” 

“I just didn’t want you to think of me any differently”

“There’s nothing you could say or do that would make me think of you differently. I love you”

“I love you too” You kissed him before moving back to your original position of you braiding flowers into his hair,which he wouldn’t take out until the fell out and then he’d bring you new fresh flowers.

Leona 

“So?”

“I’ll go,but don’t expect me to stay all night”

“I wasn’t planning on staying for more than an hour” He seemed annoyed at just the thought of having to go back home for this royal gathering,it was basically a party but only considered a royal gathering since all the members of the royal family had to be there. Leona clearly didn’t want to go,and especially not alone. “I’ll text you the details,do you have anything to wear to this?”

“Depends are you going for fancy fancy or fancy” He looked at you confused “Like do I wear a full on gown or a simple silk dress?”

“A ballgown,are you insane? We’re gonna be in the middle of the desert,I don’t need you getting a heat stroke. Just wear something you won’t overheat in” He walked off,despite his words you knew he was just worried and didn’t know how to express his worries. 

The second you walked in with your arm linked with him all eyes were instantly on you,in seconds you heard whispers. Leona’s brother Falena walked up to you,he was relaxed as he was only focused on his brother. But when he noticed you his expression turned to one of worry. He quickly bowed to you,leaving Leona confused and shocked. 

“Your highness I wasn’t expecting you”

“Don’t worry,I won’t be staying too long”

“Please,stay as long as you like. But may I ask how you know my brother?” Leona answered before you could.

“She’s my girlfriend,I’ve told you about her every time you try to set me up with someone”  Immediately the whispers got louder. Falena was frozen for a minute not knowing how to reach,but quickly recomposed himself and spoke again.

“Well,have fun” He excused himself,clearly not wanting to get further into this. Leona quickly pulled you out of the ballroom and into an empty hallway.

“Explain”

“Fine,I’m the queen of the moon desert” Moon desert was way bigger than his or rather his brother’s kingdom. “And I didn’t tell you because-”

"Because you’re another person in my life I’m inferior too?”

“No,because you treated me like a normal person. You weren’t scared to say things to my face and didn’t turn into a whole different person when I’m around. You’re the only person I can be myself around,you’re real” You cupped his face,forcing him to look at you,he looked like he was about to cry. You pulled him closer to you,his grip on you was tight. “Do you wanna leave?” You felt him nod against your neck.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #leona x reader #riddle rosehearts #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar

[courtingchaos]

Unclean

Gator Tillman x Fem Reader

Warnings: Religious themes, menstruation: sex and talk of, fingering, blood in various places, allusions to physical abuse (not reader) it’s period sex!

A/N: Listen, I am an ex-for-almost-20-years-Catholic who grew up around a lot of Southern Baptist, so excuse my (probable) misinterpretation of Leviticus okay? I just think Roy Tillman is a real Old Testament guy. I’ve had this little one shot in the wings for a while and only got the guts to finish it recently. I’m also deeply aware that I am interpreting this character much differently than the fandom at large so like, peace be with you.

18+ NSFW No Minors

Nothing but low lights behind the pulpit and a few along the aisles to let you see the outline of him in the first pew. Leaned forward, still and quiet in the cold dark that seeps into the small wooden church. Outside, the calvary congregates and converses after their Sunday dinner provided by their shepherd and in here, in the small family chapel, it’s just the two of you in the glow of old bulbs. Warm yellow gives the bridge of his nose a highlight and shines off the sun bleached strands in his hair. When your footsteps reach his radius he looks over his shoulder, tense and sharp, but the golden glow reflects off his eyes to give him a softer look than he deserves.

You stop two pews back and he gives you a once over, nervous eyes flitting from your head to your feet and up again before he begins chewing on his bottom lip. “You go home?”

“Yes.”

“Why you still in your dress?”

“It’s still Sunday.”

He laughs through his nose and turns back to the pulpit, thumb rubbing lightly against his reddened lip. “Did you stop at the house?”

You step forward one more length of pew and stop again to watch him fidget with the vape in his hand. “No, Roy wanted to talk to my father so I came back out here.”

Gator hums, a twitch of his lip letting his displeasure show for just a moment. The smack of the metal against his palm is loud in the small space like the yell you know he’d like to let loose would be. Sharp and mean like his demeanor, trying to be like his father but just south of right.

“Did you eat?” You ask while creeping up beside him. The smoke from the pit nearby has snuck in through the gaps in the doorways and mingled with the dry smell of wood and old hay. This chapel has always reminded you of an attic with its exposed beams but the scent of decades old pine makes you the most nostalgic.

“No.”

“Not hungry?”

He looks up at you before he sits back against the bench, takes in your pieces before the whole of you, eyes flitting again from your open coat to the hem of your dress fluttering just below your knee. Vape set aside he reaches out to drag a finger up from your knee and under that hem where you keep some of your secrets. Lines of ink not even your parents have seen, another cut you’ve inflicted like the hundred others while trying to claw your way out of this compound.

Fingers dig into the back of your thigh to hold you in front of him, lets the heat from his palm sink in while he doesn’t answer you.

“What was this morning about?”

He tilts his head in lieu of opening his mouth.

“Roy was on his ‘god honoring woman’ kick again. Did Karen piss him off last night?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t home.” His other hand snakes between your thighs to hold higher up. “She didn’t look upset.” He drops his gaze then to stare at the yellow flowers dotted over the black fabric of your dress, the one your mother bought you as a threat veiled in a peace offering.

“A little too much Leviticus for my taste.”

“Mm.”

Your coat lands on the floor behind you and his fingers inch higher on the inside of your thigh. He seems fixed on the way your dress bunches over his wrist instead of the soft touch behind his ear where you tuck an errant strand of hair finally falling out of its place. Outside there’s a muffled uproar of laughter that makes you cast a sharp look through the foggy windows and Gator takes the opportunity to move his warmth away to pluck at the buttons at the top of your dress.

“Little low cut for church.”

“My mother doesn’t think so.”

“I’ll thank her later.” An actual smile this time as the first button slips through silky cotton, followed by two more before you stop him. The wood creaks under your knee as you shift your weight to it, sliding it up against his hip. Again his hand finds your thigh, up high to find his favorite ink, a simple black line cross that his thumb rubs small circles into.

He hasn’t noticed yet that you tucked your underwear in your coat before you walked all the way out here. Risky since this morning left you with a bloody visit and now you sit unclean under the rafters his family raised. Your dress slides up easily enough, almost up enough to share your secret, and finally he pulls you close. Tugs at you to get you over his lap, your other knee colliding dully with the bench back.

It’s like a switch with him sometimes the way his mood will turn. Sour petulance that makes you roll your eyes will break for roaming hands that map out your body. Sullen quiet suddenly loud with his wants, with his questions, with his panting and moaning. Any place he can have you but more often in places that would bring down his father’s ire if you were found.

Flush against him now he pulls you down to meet the seat of his hips before he pushes your dress up around your waist and pauses mid grope to laugh.

“Does your mother approve of this too?” Fingers move again along the crease of your hip until they reach soft curls. He catches your eye and doesn’t look away as he dips his fingers into your heat, his lip caught between his teeth again, this time with a smirk. He pushes up slow, thick fingers dragging against oversensitive flesh, his palm flat so you can grind against him. Words seem caught in his throat, probably something goading and whispered, something laughed out on a breath. You know he wants to make you blush about how wet you already are and how loud you’re panting but he changes his angle and moves his hand, pulls it back in front of himself and stops to stare at the red staining his fingers.

“Oh.” You don’t pretend to sound surprised. He frowns but doesn’t push you away like you thought he might’ve, instead he seems frozen in place and you don’t miss the blush beginning to trickle down his cheeks. “It’s okay.” You grab his fist hovering between you. “It’s okay.” You repeat and he looks at you then, wide eyes searching for something. Leaned in close you bring his hand up slow, up towards his lips parted around a whispered sound of protest.

“Is-isn’t this breaking a r-rule or something?”

He doesn’t curl his fingers away when you press them to his mouth, a long line of blood from his cupids bow to his chin. With your free hand you fumble with his belt and his pants, keeping his doe eyed gaze glued to yours.

“Your father walks in here without burning.”

Confusion has nestled its way into his features, eyes squinted at you until you wedge your hand in between thick fabric and hot skin. His gaze droops when you pull him free, mouth splitting open with a quiet gasp. You move then, sitting up on your knees to look down on him wanting and blooded, dragging your hands down his long arms along the back the of the pew outstretched to grip the hardwood with white knuckles. Fear, you think at first, from the wild print you’ve left on his face. Anxiousness maybe that he might be found like this, not just compromised but marked now, cut off from the flock finally.

“Gator…” You barely whisper and he’s chasing you upwards. Against the restraints of your hands on his wrists he pulls when your lips don’t descend to meet his.

A choked off whine, “Please.” His hips wiggle between your knees for some kind of friction, anything to get closer. “C’mon, come back.” He pleads through clenched teeth, tacky red turning matte on his full lips. It draws you back in and he smiles when you close the distance with a brush of a kiss, something light that makes him huff before you consume him.

He doesn’t taste like when you bite your cheek or suck on a paper cut. It’s a foreign taste on a familiar tongue, faint passion fruit from his habit and a metallic tinge that makes you groan into him. He feels good. Pinned like a fluttering moth looking for an escape, for a saving grace that he seems to find in your lips and the dip of your tongue. His breath comes in sharp puffs through his nose smushed against your cheek and again you hear him whine when you don’t let him raise his hands.

A shake of his head to break the kiss to get his point across to take a deep breath-

Outside there’s heavy footfalls on the old wooden steps. Both of you freeze like deer, your eyes trained on the heavy door and his boring through your chin, waiting to bolt at the first sign of discovery.

Muffled voices, a click of metal and your heart in your throat when this unsuspecting intruder has a change of pace. A muffled question. A pause. Quiet laughter and parting footsteps.

Your fingers simply drape and Gator takes the opportunity to surge into you. Hands grabbing at your hips to hold you closer, pushing you down on him. He guides himself in with his thumb, a quick brush over that ache of yours amplified through thrill and nature.

You miss him watching your face scrunch up in apprehension. Lips parted like his, pink lipstick smudged with blood, only you hiss out an “easy” that he answers with a shush. Lets his hands run back up under your dress to find his favorite little scar of ink, smearing red along the way. Almost dry now but his fingerprints in your mess between the two of you make him forget his reservations for a few minutes. He forgets the crowd outside and the house ten minutes away. Pushes the expectations away. He instead watches you relax into him, the way your hands unwind from his shirt only to feel them slide up behind his neck to wind back up in his hair. Your tongue rolls over your bottom lip before you bite down on a moan when he bucks his hips up gently.

This wet heat, new to him in this taboo, draws him in when you roll your hips in earnest suddenly. You’ve angled him to find that magic spot he’s usually still searching for by this point, your head rolling back on your shoulders to ride your knees raw against the wood. The deep heat of you almost scorches him, a small voice in the back of his thoughts reminding him of hellfire and naked founts.

“Fuck.” Said out loud in the hopes of chasing away a voice tinged with vitriol and a release of the climbing pleasure up his spine. You writhe in his lap and he gropes at your hips, slides long fingers down and under to grab at your thighs. Slick with sweat you slip in his grasp, heavy breaths blown over his locks when you finally reach behind him to hold onto the bench.

The open top of your dress brushes his face enough times he bites at the buttons, finally catching them between his teeth. Through his lashes he watches your face, glued to the peek of teeth behind your lips. The way you glitter in low light and muggy air. The dip of your collar bones when you roll your body into his and he can feel you tighten all around him, core and arms and air.

A not gentle hand suddenly wrapped around his jaw, fingers prodding into his mouth to hang and pull. Wandering lips messily find his own and then trail off over his cheek to end at his ear, your peak whined against him. Pulsing that makes him hold you closer so he can chase after you to find his own end.

He’s been on the precipice since you threw your coat on the ground and all it takes is a few gentle thrusts before he chokes on a groan and suddenly he feels bottomless. No floor, no bonfires, no congregants too close for comfort. Just your face in his neck and the shared messy warmth pressed between you two.

There’s a swing of headlights over the front of the chapel that breaks whatever tandem calm you two have created. Separated wordlessly with barely a glance at the extra mess, Gator quickly readjusts his pants and you snatch your coat on your way to the small ladies room in the foyer. More muffled voices tonight that intrude on your privacy while you scrub smudged lipstick off your face and rebutton your dress, jumping only a little when there’s a knock at the door.

“You fall in?” Your father jokes on the other side.

“Give me a minute!” You snap while trying to slide your underwear back on. A final look before you walk out to make sure the surface of you is presentable, no visible marks or smudges. Out in the entryway your father gestures at you to follow and Roy gives you too long of a look when he waves. You wonder if he can see it all over your face even though you scrubbed the evidence off. Wonder if he can smell it on you two like a predator sniffing out wounded prey.

Can he see your handprints all over his son? Invisible blood that marks him different now. The tang of sin sits all over your tongue and when you run it behind your teeth to savor you catch Gator staring again. Catch him watching your hands twist in your coat pockets and his eyes flit back up to your mouth. You can feel the faded touch of him worrying at your tattoo even across a courtyard.

“Hey Gator?” You holler at him while climbing into your father’s truck. “Don’t forget dinner.” A simple smile for him before you slam the door, a break in the tension and your phone is vibrating seconds later. You wait to look until your home but it still makes you laugh even when you’re starting your laundry.

Thank your mom for me.

#Gator Tillman #Gator Tillman Fic #Gator Tillman x Reader #My Fic #My Work #Gator Tillman Smut

[furiousgoldfish]

This is going to sound incoherent to those who haven't been told over and over they're monsters or demons or animals as children, but I need to write it down.

It was often I would be told that I was some kind of evil creature and not a child, as a justification for abusing me, and I wouldn't have any kind of response to that, because how do you combat that? How do you respond to a parent or a family member calling you a snake and a swine and satan? I would get frozen in doubt and start to internalize, that I must be non-human, I must be evil and fundamentally wrong and demonic in some way, because I couldn't find any argument against it. After all, these people were saying it so surely, so filled with rage and righteous justice, that I was non-human, that it was not only okay but necessary to hurt me, and it's all I've ever known. And I still get flashbacks to those moments when I would be told stuff like 'you should have been strangled to death the second you were born', and I freeze. It hurts. I can't reason with hatred like that.

It's only today my brain finally found some counter arguments to it.

Was I born to a human being, or to an animal? If I had been an animal, I would have been born to an animal mother. And she wouldn't hate me like you do. Even if I was a baby snake, there would have been no need to torture me, I would have been normal and natural as a snake. But, even as a child, I had arms and legs, it was obvious I wasn't a snake.

If I as a demon, how would I be born into a family of humans? Wouldn't it be shown in the color of my eyes, or my skin, or my actions? Have I been displaying anything but normal child behaviour? How would anyone be able to tell I was a demon, if I was born to humans, acted like a normal human child, and had never done acts of irreparable evil and sadism? What made me a demon then?

If there was nothing but evil in me, why was I in so much fear and pain all the time? Is that how evil-doers feel? Why was I too scared to do even normal, mundane things that other kids fearlessly did? Why was nobody afraid of me? Why did people feel comfortable hurting me, cornering me and attacking me, if I was so dangerous and malicious?

It was painfully obvious that I was a human child from the start. Calling a human child demonic is not normal, it's not well-intentioned, it's not for the child's own good. It's cruel and vicious. And it wasn't based on anything inside of me. You saw a child you wanted to hurt repeatedly, and making the child believe they're not human was the simplest way for you to get away with it. Why did you need to hurt the child repeatedly? Even if you believed it was something else, an animal or an evil creature, why did it give you pleasure to hurt it over and over again? Why would you intentionally corner a small creature inside of your home and cause pain to it? Did it give you pleasure to see fear and tears? Did you enjoy it so much you just had to keep doing it?

All small humans are the same, they have small little limbs, they're squishy, they're sensitive, they get spooked and scared easily, they like playing brave to make themselves feel stronger. There's no reason to corner and torture one, and call them evil for that. I was the same. I was acting brave but I was small, and soft, with little limbs, easily spooked, easily brought to tears. What was in you to want to break me? What was it worth to you to do it?

You could have picked any child for it, and it wouldn't have made any difference. I was just what was in the house.

#cult abuse #brainwashing #child abuse #tw graphic threats #tw graphic death threats #tw threats to kill a toddler #psychological abuse #emotional abuse

[strawberrymochin]

Springtime Fushiguros♪

Context-: exploring the memories of childhood of fushiguros, marking the spring time of you and satoru gojo.

Trade-: geto shows up to megumi

Megumi hasn't yet recovered from his cold, you would have insisted him taking a leave but he had an exam today, so he was compelled to attend.

Both Megumi and tsumiki were pretty apt in studies, thus their academics weren't much of a concern to you. You were certain megumi would do well in test; what concerned you was not being able to pick him up on time.

Tsumiki has an extra music class for this day, so she won't be joining megumi. You were currently in your part-time job, working on a portfolio of one of your client.

You were short on time already, when the sky shrouded with furious dark clouds, devoiding tokyo from any light. Soon a curtain of rain poured down from the sky, followed by a series of cool current sweeping it across tokyo.

Megumi didn't had an umbrella with him and you would not want him to get even worse.

A series of thunders tore across the sky, following the white streak flash of lighting, unfurling across the sky.

Something seemed off.

The rains you loved seemed to have an odd air surrounding it as if foreshadowing; as if cautioning for a turn of events which you didn't quite understand.

Something definitely seemed off. You were skeptical about finishing you work any sooner.

Should you just call gojo and ask him to pick him up?

Megumi's runs outside, along with other students after his last class, covering his head with his backpack expecting you waiting outside for him.

His eyes scanned around the road. You were nowhere. This is odd, normally, either you or gojo would be present 10 mins before dismissal. He could see the white haired guy waving at him, during his last class or maybe you talking with someone other parent who would gasp at how young you are to be a mother.

'Oh no, I'm not his mother,' Megumi heard you say once when one of his classmate's parents asked you, 'I'm his gaurdian.' you'd said brushing off their talks awkwardly. That day, megumi had his head low all the way back home, his hand clasped around your fingers. Why couldn't you be his mother? He thought, looking at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, as you dried his hair with a loving smile on your lips.

A blurred memory of his actual mother flashed through his eyes. He has forgotten the way his mother's eyes would crinkle up in joy, styling his hair, similar to hers. The way she booped his nose when he got confused. The way her laugh sounded.

And when he tried to remember hard, squeezing his eyes shut, picturing his mother, the only figure he could dawn on his mind was yours.

It was raining heavily, Megumi looked around once again, trying to spot your figure among the crowd, when something sheltered him from the heavy downpour.

He removes his bag from his head, turning around to see a tall figure, shading him with his umbrella. He bents down to his level. Curved eyes seemed to widen a bit before curving a bit more, tilting his head to the side as a brisk breeze messes with his bangs. He was dressed in black sweats.

"You look just like him." He says, with a smile difficult to interpret. "Huh?"

"Enjoying your new family?"

"Who are you?"

"Im......close to someone you know—"

"Megumi!!" The guy looked behind him, eyes glinting an melancholic menace. Megumi turned around to see you, sprinting towards him, holding an umbrella, when you halt abruptly.

You couldn't believe your eyes weren't hallucinating. It was him. Really him. Standing beside— a wave of terror passes through your stiff body forcing you to run to megumi, pulling him behind you as you stand between geto suguru and megumi.

"Y/n! long time no see..."

Your throat dried up, unable to process any words you stay quiet.

"How are you? Are things fine?" He looks the same, just a little more tired, his dark circles under his cresent moons got a little darker, and his hair a little longer.

"What are you doing here?"

"Came to look for you."

"Why?"

"Come with me y/n." You shake your head at his words knowing very well what he's implying on.

"Geto, please don't. Come back."

"I can't."

"Please geto you can. Trade your memories with me."

Geto looks at you for a while, "you're still the same. You know they are still looking for you right?"

"Geto, i—"

"I have my answer... anyways take care of satoru and this kid. Seems like he finally accepted his feelings. Be happy." You didn't dared to stop him, not that you could. You stayed still clasping megumi tight to you, as you watch him disappear in the rain.

"Who was that guy?" Megumi asks, as both of you walk your way back home.

"An old friend. What did he tell you?"

"Nothing."

"Megumi?" He looked up to you, wating for you to speak, "will you promise me something?"

"What?"

"Never tell your sensei, about this okay?"

Megumi nodded, suppressing his questions, since whatever matter it was, it would surely make you sad.

A few days later, Megumi finds a photo, in gojo's closet, when you tasked him to get gojo a fresh blindfold.

"What takes you so long?" Gojo asks startling him from behind, plucking the photo away from him.

"Who's this guy?" Megumi asks, not being able to best his curiosity. Gojo stays quite for a while gazing at the photo, of him and the guy megumi's pointing at, hands draped over each others shoulders, smiling.

He flicked the photo back into his closet, not caring where it might end up, "my best friend. The only one i've ever had."

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen x megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x satoru gojo #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #gojou satoru x reader #springtime fushiguros #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #geto suguru #satoru x suguru #satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satosugu #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu megumi #megumi x you #megumi fluff #satoru fluff #jjk satoru #jujutsu satoru #geto x reader #megumi x y/n

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Thirteen - Passionate

♡♡♡

A garden party was a nice occasion. The joys of being outdoors while socialising with dear friends had a calming and charming air about it. You found it rather pleasant being in the outdoors.

The flowers smelled wonderful, and you couldn't help making mental notes of some of the flower arrangements for, perhaps, future uses.

As you stroll, you come across the Bridgertons. You smile at Violet as you get closer, though she is talking to Eloise, who sounds less than pleased with the topic of conversation. You decide to narrowly miss this conversation for now and walk past them to where Benedict and Anthony were talking to a couple of young ladies.

Both men seem to perk up at your appearance beside them.

"Hello," you smile at the pair.

"Good afternoon," Anthony smiles back.

"Enjoying the fresh air?" Benedict asks, also smiling. Smiles all around, how joyous.

"Yes, very. This is lovely."

Anthony waves over a servant with a tray of lemonade and hands you a glass. You take it with a soft thank you, missing the look Benedict gives his brother. Anthony elects to ignore Benedict as he smiles at you again. You sip the lemonade.

The sound of someone clinking their glass to signal attention has everyone turning around to look at Colin Bridgerton.

"Can I have your attention?" He asks, looking around at everyone.

"What's he doing?" You ask quietly to the brothers beside you.

"No idea," Anthony mutters.

"I would like to make a small but important announcement," Colin declares. He is standing next to Marina Thompson. "I have happy news to impart. I have asked Miss Marina Thompson to be my wife and she has accepted."

You nearly choke on your lemonade. Benedict and Anthony look at each other. Anthony, in particular, looks less than pleased by this.

People clap around them. You clap for appearance sake, but you look up at Anthony. "Did you know?"

"No."

Anthony steps forward to talk to his mother. You can't hear what they're saying. You look up at Benedict. "I wasn't even aware your brother was courting."

"Neither was I." He says with a little shrug.

Everyone moves to go congratulate the couple. As you pass Anthony, you look up at him. He offers you his arm and you both approach Colin and Marina.

You could feel him seething behind his calm exterior.

After the party, Anthony takes Colin into his study to talk to him. You have no idea what they discuss, but you can take a pretty good guess.

♡♡♡

The next morning, you went to the Bridgerton house to see Violet. After Colin's unexpected announcement, you wanted to know all was well with the rest of the family. They were already without a sister now. They did not need to lose Colin so soon, surely.

Lady Bridgerton was most pleased to see you at her door. She told you they hadn't even started breakfast yet and invited you in. Benedict was there with the two youngest siblings. You smile at him as you enter. He smiles back softly, seemingly pleased to see you.

"Take a seat," Violet says kindly.

You sit next to Gregory, opposite Hyacinth, who sits beside Benedict. The eldest son at the table hasn't torn his gaze from you at all.

"Tea, ma'am?" The butler asks.

"Yes, please."

A cup is poured for you.

"Are you hungry?" Violet asks.

"No. I ate at home. Thank you, though." You smile at her. She returns the smile and picks up the paper in front of her. "How are you all?" You ask.

"Uh, well," Benedict nods. You smile at him.

"Violet?" You looked at her.

"Hm?" She looks up from her paper. "Oh, uh, yes." She nods, and then lowers her gaze back to the paper.

Benedict gives you a look that you understand clearly enough. His mother has been better.

"I suppose it's too soon to hear from Daphne yet?" You ask.

"I'm sure they'll have made it by now. They'll be enjoying their honeymoon period, no doubt." Benedict chuckles softly.

You smile softly and look into your teacup. "I wonder what it's like..."

"The honeymoon period?" Benedict asks, looking up at you with slightly flushed cheeks.

"Being married," you correct him.

"Oh..."

Violet looks up at you with a small smile, her eyes sparkling. "When you marry your best friend, it's the most wonderful feeling of all."

You smile at her. "I want that."

"Youshall have it. One day, dear."

You are grateful for Violet and her kindness. You've never known a more warm and welcoming woman. Your mother was nice, certainly, but she was eager just to see you wed. Violet made marriage sound magical.

You sip your tea and listen to Hyacinth bicker with Gregory over a ribbon. Benedict tries to be the middleman and solve this peacefully. You chuckle at their antics. Gregory tries to get you to defend him, but you put your hands up and explain that you weren't here when the crime was supposedly committed. Benedict also comes to your rescue.

You smile at each other.

Colin walks in.

Conversation becomes quieter. You pour yourself another cup of tea and avoid looking up at Colin. You feel like this may be a little awkward. You grab a slice of toast for the centre of the table and butter it quietly, needing to keep your hands busy.

Benedict seems to realise what you're doing and says nothing to you.

"Good morning." Colin greets his family.

"Morning, brother."

Colin nods to you, too. You offer him a smile which you then hide behind the toast you had buttered.

"Colin, your engagement is in Whistledown!" Hyacinth exclaims cheerfully.

"Hyacinth!" Eloise scolds. You hadn't even seen her lingering in the back of the room.

"What? It is!"

"Very well. Everyone out, I think." Benedict says as gently as he can.

"Yes," Violet mutters.

Benedict calls your name softly. You nod and down the rest of your tea, taking the other half of the toast with you as you rise with the others. Eloise grabs her plate and glides past you quietly.

Colin approaches his mother as you all leave the room. When the door shuts behind you, yo turn to Benedict. "Will he be alright?"

"I'll let you know after."

You follow him down the hall.

The two younger siblings follow their sister into the drawing room. Benedict reaches out his hand to grab lightly at your arm, stopping you from going any further.

"Could I... show you something?" He asks.

You look at him, brow slightly furrowed, and nod. He smiles, that crooked little smile of his and guides you down the opposite hall, leading you toward an empty room. There was minimal furniture in there, which confused as to why he brought you here.

"I like to come in here for some quiet." He explains.

He offers you a seat on one of the chairs in the middle of the room and disappears for a brief moment. You look around the room as you wait. When he returns, he's carrying something.

"I don't usually show other people my work, for, I admit, I am not happy with it, but I would like to share a piece of me with you." He says, placing the book on the table between you.

For a moment, he sits there with his hands planted firmly on top of the book and then pushes it closer to you. You reach out and take the book carefully. His hand slowly slides from the cover, and you watch him become riddled with anxiety and nerves as his passion lays slowly in your hands.

You turn your eyes to the book and gently curl your fingers around the cover, pulling it open slowly, hoping not to disturb the pages. You start from the beginning. Mere scribbles of a person. You turn the pages slowly. Different angles. Different body parts up close. Eyes, noses, hands, lips. Nearly 6 whope pages are focused on hair styles on ladies. There are pages focusing on the folds of clothes and how they hand. Particularly dresses.

You browse the sketchbook slowly and carefully, taking I never details.

There is some evidence of torn pages within the book. You wonder how many times he sketched something and torn it out with anger with displeasure.

"Well?" He asks after a long pause of silence.

You lift your eyes to meet his. "You drew all of these?"

"Yes..."

You cast your eyes on the book again, admiring a sketch of a hand up close. The long fingers, the bend in the knuckles, the lines on the palm.

"You're very talented, Benedict."

You hear the breath leave his lips and look up to see the way his eyes light up with surprise. He clearly was expecting a very different comment.

"You think so?"

"Yes." You nod. "Very."

Benedict seems to relax immensely as he looks at you and then sits back in his chair, looking relieved.

"I want to create something people will remember and talk about for years to come," he confesses. "But I cannot. I do not possess such a talent."

"Nonsense."

"No, really." He leans forward again.

"Can I ask why you decided to show me this?" You ask, looking at the open book again.

"I trust you." He speaks softly. "Are we not friends?" He asks.

"Of course."

Hs lips twitch into a smile. "I trust you," he repeats.

"Well, I'm very glad you do." You close the book and hand it back carefully. "I trust that you will create something spectacular one day."

You had no idea how much your words meant to him or for how long he would end up carrying those words with him. If you could see the artist he wants to be inside, then surely one day it shall come true. Benedict swears on his heart that anything you day could become true just because they are spoken from your lips.

He hadn't even noticed his eyes had glanced at your lips, not until his eyes met your eyes again. You don't seem to have noticed.

"I think I've taken up enough of your family's time now. I mostly wanted to check on Violet after Colin's rather abrupt proposal."

"Yes..." Benedict wasn't entirely certain what you had just said, he just agreed. His mind was reeling.

Had he really just stared at your lips without realising he was doing it. Why does he feel the urge to look at them again?

You stand before he can get the chance.

"See me out?"

He snaps back to reality and stands quickly. "Yes."

You chuckle and begin to leave the room. Benedict follows you, pretending nothing is amiss. He was confused by his own behaviour.

You assumed it was a Bridgerton trait, if nothing else.

Benedict shows you to the door, and you step outside. Your carriage awaits. You turn and smile at Benedict.

"Do not give up."

"Hm?" He looks at you confused.

"Your art. Do not give up. One day, your work will hang with the greats."

Your words set his heart fluttering. He takes a deep breath and nods, not tristing his voice. You chuckle again and bid him farewell as you walk away.

Benedict closes the door and turns slowly, looking at the empty hall of the house.

"I need a drink."

"It's barely 9," Eloise says from the open door of the drawing room.

Benedict nearly jumped out of his skin.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen - @berrnuu - @biancamde - @charmainemaclendon - @pinkpantheris - @krismdavis

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

[bebeyeyo]

i love everything you do. | 이바다

genre: fluff

pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

setting: highschool au

content warnings: bullying, mentions of bruises and blood, ableism

disclaimer: reader is blind; and this has been in my drafts for too long. enjoy </3

the feeling of being on cloud nine was always there whenever you were with bada.

you’ve always heard she was such a sweetheart with everyone, and this included you.

especially with you.

she treated you like a fragile being; one that deserves nothing but the best, even when you both had become the best of friends.

her acts of service had always been present, such as giving you her arm for whenever you’re both walking together. this includes for whenever you had to go down the steps of the school.

you’d always reassure her that you can do it by yourself, but she’d always insist.

or holding your things for you. even walking you home.

she wants to make sure you get home safely, but also gave her an excuse to be with you more often.

beginning the next stage of your friendship was the icing on the cake. you had a nervous and dorky bada asking you out with a bouquet of flowers.

of course, you said yes.

another reason you felt so happy with bada: she had never once judged you for the fact you had a visual impairment.

she never once tried to bring it into conversation or ask any questions, though you wouldn’t have minded.

bada treated you like a normal human being.

except, some others only saw you as “different” and decided to make you their target.

your biggest bully yet was im nayeon.

you had never understood as to why she loved picking on you so much, but you’ve always had to endure it alone.

bada didn’t like this one bit.

you stood at your locker putting in your combination for your locker when you felt someone shove you, making you things fall from your hands.

hearing the familiar laughter of nayeon, you sigh deeply out of frustration, your hands balling into fists.

“what is the reason you are picking on me again, nayeon? are you that bored or just insecure?” you ask.

she just scoffs, “how about you actually look at me when talking, you freak? you can’t even do that right.” nayeon waved her hand in front of your face.

with no hesitation, you swatted her hand out of the way which shocked nayeon and most people who were just bystanders.

the older girl didn’t like this, anger boiling in her veins.

“oh? she wants to fight back now?” you feel nayeon kick you over, causing you to land on your knees on the hard floor making you wince.

it’ll leave a bruise or two, for sure.

“cmon then, freak. fight me back!” suddenly you feel nayeon push your head into the floor, causing your ears to ring and you cry out holding your head.

everyone who was watching all stood with shocked expressions before you felt nayeon’s foot kick your stomach, as well.

you groan holding your stomach, the ringing in your ears didn’t stop.

you couldn’t register what happened, but all you heard was nayeon whispering what sounded like an “oh shit” before running off.

thankfully, two of your friends, jimin and minjeong were nearby and were quick to help you to the nurse’s office.

thankfully, the ringing in your ears had finally stopped once your parents had gotten you to the hospital.

your father? hysterical. your mother? rage.

needless to say, you explained the situation with nayeon in a very weak manner from feeling so sleepy and ill.

your mother was ready to sue nayeon and her family left and right for what they were worth.

your father considered suing them and the school all together for letting this happen to you.

you tried talking them out of it to calm them down, but you gave up when you saw your father suddenly calling the school.

plus, you just wanted to get home and rest.

but, no one was as angry as your girlfriend that day.

bada was relieved you were okay, obviously.

truthfully, she wanted to bury nayeon six feet under.

which is why she was stomping up to nayeon at her locker, bystanders all watching with eyes wide open. almost everyone of the school knew that bada was a sweetheart, but when she was angry, you didn’t want to cross her.

“the hell is your problem?” bada says with the anger bubbling in her.

nayeon turns around confused, “what’re you even talking about, bada?”

the taller girl rolls her eyes, “don’t play fucking dumb, nayeon. you sent my girlfriend to the hospital.”

nayeon only smiles and chuckles.

“oh! you mean y/n. yeah what about it?”

“you’ve got some fucking nerve making fun of a disabled person. what has y/n ever done to you? are you that insecure?”

“oh please. i’m insecure of a girl who can’t see? humor me.” nayeon shrugs it off.

bada finally snapped, “oh, really? you think it’s funny? is this funny?”

nayeon felt bada push her head, the same way nayeon had slammed your head. except, the nearest obstacle was the lockers, so bada chose with the easiest route to go.

even tho she wanted to do so much more.

she had the thought of pouring bleach into the girl’s eyes. then again, she’d definitely be put behind bars.

can’t afford that, she thought.

nayeon held her head in pain before shouting, “are you fucking crazy?!”

bada only smirks.

“maybe i am, but you’ll be more much sooner,” bada gets close in nayeon’s face, so close that they could feel each other’s breath blowing.

“i’m only going to say this once, so you better fucking listen. although, i know that’s hard for you to do. if you ever so much as look in y/n’s direction from here on out, or try anything against her, i will fucking ruin you. you forget, i know your family and their reputation. i can easily ruin yours and theirs with just a whisper.” bada threatens.

the fear in nayeon’s eyes added satisfaction to her pride.

nayeon could barely register before she felt bada shove past her.

but if nayeon wasn’t embarrassed and angry then, she totally was now.

“you brought me flowers?” you ask as you sit on the edge of your bed, smelling the lillies that bada had bought for you.

“of course. can’t i get some flowers for my lovely girl?”

“what did you do?” you instantly ask.

she pouts, “why do you assume such a thing?”

“because i can feel you did something so spit it out.” you chuckle.

“well,” she starts, “i may have had a word with nayeon…maybe pushed her head a little…into her locker.”

your jaw drops a bit, “bada!”

“okay okay, look, it’s just karma. she’s a fucking bitch and she shouldn’t be so damn ableist. i should make her blind.” she crosses her arms.

you shake your head, “bada, i appreciate you for defending me. trust me i do, but i don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“…i know.” she mumbles.

“so please, no fighting.” you take her hand and squeeze.

reluctantly, she agrees.

“and besides, how can you be there to be my knight in shining armor if you’re stuck in detention?” you ask as you put your head on her shoulder.

“hm, you’ve got a good point.” you giggle along with her.

“i love you.”

“i love you too, y/n.” she says as she kisses your forehead.

#bebeyeyo #bada lee fic #bada lee x fem!reader #bada lee x reader

[satan-plundered-our-oceans]

I saw your bakugou with sibling reader! I loved it and would like to ask for a continuation

Maybe when the reader gets their quirk? And how would the family and others react if it does turn out to be more powerful than his

★。／ plus ultra: echo burst! ＼。★

pairing: bakugo x gn!sibling!reader (part two!)

(here's a link to part one if you haven't read it yet!)

fandom: boku no hero academia

word count: 5.4k

tw: none! purely some platonic, wholesome fluff. of course, a bit of cussing from bakugo, and some canon typical violence, unedited because i’m too tired for that-  (very little violence, only implied/mentioned, little baby y/n bakugo doesn’t need that–)

notes: this is my first fic sequel! on my old blog, i had a sequel planned out and requested of bakugo’s sibling ending up quirkless, so if anyone wants to see a secondary sequel about a quirkless!sibling as well, let me know! but of course, they/them pronouns for little sibling bakugo, and please enjoy! thank you again for requesting this fic anon!

! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !

‘don’t touch that y/n.’

katsuki bakugo reluctantly holds onto the tiny, chubby hand of his little sibling, dragging them haphazardly through a crowded market aisle. despite being late to your appointment at the doctor, you had begged him to take you to get ice cream afterwards. your appointment had gone well, and mitsuki had demanded he do anything you wanted today.

he decides to let you loose in a merchandise store just off the side of the street. it’s the same one where you had gotten your all might onesie, and your favourite lunch boxes. he wouldn’t be surprised if it was the same place deku got all his merch too.

looking around at the merch, he can’t help but think of your appointment, though it hadn’t really bothered him at all before now.

things were great. your joints in your little toe showed you would get your quirk at some point, it would develop, which would no doubt relieve his mother - she had long ago begun doubting whether you would end up quirkless, and the idea had concerned her until she had almost driven herself mad. but, according to him, you were fine. a quirk would come to you eventually, it just had to develop, and he told bakugo that things would be fine with a hearty smile on his round face.

it had made him think - he would only admit that it was briefly - what it would be. your quirk. would it be explosive like his own or would it be defensive or weaker? despite thinking of this too, he didn’t really have the heart - and he had one, deep down, for you - to think of his sibling any differently.

‘katsuki!’ you come running up to him, a round bandaid on your bare arm from the blood test you undertook. you cried a little, but toughed it up, your eyes still slightly red. in your arms is a soft midnight plush, and you hold it out to him with the biggest grin he’s probably ever seen. ‘can i get a midnight?’

he looks at it for a moment. he doesn’t even bother asking how much it might be before he deflates at the doe-eyed look you give your big brother. you walk him to the counter and hold his hand while he pays for your new plushee. one you definitely didn’t need.

with midnight plush in hand, you let him lead you out of the store.

bakugo isn’t stupid, he knows the city isn’t safe when it gets darker. he knows that villains lie on almost every corner, and that he can’t always predict when or where they might strike. he had let you drag him anywhere, and stupidly he followed. because what kind of brother would he be if he denied you? that’s how he ends up halfway across the city and carrying you home while you doze off on his shoulder. your midnight plush pressed tightly between your backs. but something passes overhead, a dark shape in the sky. a shop alarm rings out through the blackness of the street. the night lights flicker on. 

it’ll only take him about fifteen minutes to get you home. but even he can feel the slightest thrill of fear that sets in. a prickling on his skin. 

then a bin in the alley rattles and knocks over. from the quick flash he can see, it’s not one of the villains he’s seen before, or at least no one important enough to remember. his grip tightens around your legs, hoisting you higher on his back before he continues his walk home, his steps quickening despite himself.

your head lolls on his shoulder, your face pressed into his shirt.

‘kat? what’s wrong?’ he doesn’t answer you, only slides you onto the concrete quickly and hides you behind an alcove in the storefront. he makes sure you’re hidden by the foliage hanging overhead. ‘katsuki?’

‘stay here, ok?’ he tells you quietly, ruffling your hair a little bit to calm the panicked glaze in your eyes. it doesn’t work. his parents were always better at this stuff. ‘don’t make a sound.’

you’ve watched katsuki fight before. you’ve seen villain attacks that he got caught up with on the news, as a u.a student it’s almost expected. but this is different. you had never seen it in person. never felt the heat radiating off his explosions, seen the buildings behind this villain crumble on impact, never felt the ringing of your ears when it finally bursts. no, this is different. katsuki has only been hit once or twice, dodging the villains knives that seem to almost miraculously float around him, flying in any direction he pleases. it scares you, just how close it feels now. you don’t think you like it very much at all.

but then katsuki dodges one of those flying knives, and on his cheek a shallow wound oozes a trickle of blood. he wipes it away nonchalantly, like this happens all the time. you had never seen something like this, he was always patched up by the time he came home to see you. but this is terrifying. 

without a thought, you leap forward from the alcove, little legs pounding the pavement as you plant yourself in the space between katsuki and the villain. your little arms outstretched to protect your brother, your midnight plush clutched in your fists. fat tears roll down your round cheeks and your lip trembles.  the villain laughs at you, you think. and katsuki yells at you to reach cover again. maybe he barks out some threat, hoping it would scare you enough to run away. but it doesn’t. instead, you let yourself be curled into his arms and you hold midnight like a beacon. your crying erupts into earth-shattering screams.

a shockwave bursts from your fingers, the force pulsating in your skin and travelling up your arms. it hurts a little bit, makes your arms shake. your knees feel weak as you hold it, the bubble growing until it pins the villain against the alley wall. it crumbles under his weight, pushing his form against the brick. even if you wanted to you wouldn’t be able to let it go. 

‘y/n, it’s okay, it’s okay,’ katsuki soothes with a hand on your head, shielding your gaze from the villain as he finally falls limp to the floor. not quite dead, not yet at least. ‘let’s go home, yeah?’

you nod up at him, and the shockwave droops, it fades, becoming a small bubble around you and your brother, encasing you in safety as you play with the tips of midnight’s hair. 

katsuki doesn’t quite understand it immediately, but it clicks for him as he reaches the front step of your home, looking down at your sleeping form cradled in his arms, he realises just how powerful your quirk could be. your cheeks are red and splotchy from your crying before, and yet you look almost peaceful.

he moves aside your hair, and looks down at your face.

despite knowing you would always be an amazing hero, now he knew for sure. now he could probably brag that his little sibling was going to surpass even all might. 

maybe, he wouldn’t mind you surpassing him either, if you kept smiling like you had.

#bnha #mha #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #fanfic #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #platonic love #platonic #siblings #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha imagines #midoriya izuku x reader #denki kaminari #denki #kirishima #hero #iida tenya #uraraka ochacho #detroit smash #gender neutral reader #sibling reader #x sibling reader #wholesome #fluff

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

interlude three

Summary: After the sudden deaths of her mother and grandmother, y/n is forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke her heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, she vows to get to the bottom of her former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what she’s expecting.

a/n: I'm alive!!! I don't want to talk about how long it's been since the last chapter because it's a little bit embarrassing. Anyways, I'm back! Hopefully! So here's a brief little Bruce POV to hold you over until the next real chapter, which should hopefully only be a week or two maybe? (Also, I apologize in advance....)

Series Masterlist

word count: 1.2k

Despite everyone who was trying hard to keep her alive, y/n felt utterly alone. 

Bruce's POV

“Bruce, my dear boy, I don’t tell you often enough, but you are…so stubbornly stupid it makes me feel twice my age.” 

Bruce startled and whirled around to face Alfred. The older man was leaning casually along the work station where Bruce’s video equipment was, his cane next to him, legs crossed at the ankles. 

Bruce opened his mouth and then closed it again. 

It was noon now, and he still hadn’t been to bed. He’d been out late staking out Maverick’s again, hoping to catch a lead on Frank Gallo or anyone that could lead him to the man, when Alfred’s call had come. Security breach. Elevator. The panic had almost killed him. Alfred’s next call came in when Bruce was almost home, telling him that everyone was safe. So he had changed direction and left to clean himself up to make an appearance as Bruce instead. 

And still the fear lingered. Someone had been in his home, feet away from y/n, and he had yet to find any proof of how they had done it. 

He wouldn’t–couldn’t–sleep until he was certain she was safe. 

“What did I do this time?” Bruce finally asked. He turned back to the security footage he was pouring over. It terrified him that they could have been so close to y/n. That he could have been too late. That he could have–

He shut the thought down as quickly as it came. No use dwelling on it now. 

“What haven’t you done? You imploded the most important relationship you have–repeatedly, if we’re being honest. You keep secrets from her but toe the line so recklessly it’s going to blow up in your face. You let your emotions get the best of you. And that’s just lately. Shall I go on?” Alfred recrossed his ankles in the other direction. 

Bruce grit his teeth but said nothing. He restarted the security footage from the beginning and paused it frame by frame. A loud clack echoed around the abandoned station each time he smashed the button to go to the next frame. 

“Let’s change tactics then. How long are you going to let her live in fear before you tell her that the Batman is watching over her from inside her home?” 

Bruce’s jaw ached with the force of his clenched teeth. Still, he said nothing. First y/n had yelled at him, now Alfred. He knew his behavior was…abysmal to say the least. But he had more important things to focus on than everyone’s emotions, his own included. 

He had to find Frank Gallo, and take down the rest of the family, once and for all. When that was done, when y/n was safe, he would think about all the ways he had ruined his relationship with her. 

“Are you listening to me, Bruce?” 

“I am trying,” Bruce said with a smack of his fist against the table, “to figure out who the fuck broke into my home and threatened y/n!” His voice echoed loudly around him, setting the bats to fluttering and chittering above them. He restarted the footage once again. 

Alfred made a noise in his throat. “She hasn’t slept at all.” 

Something oily slid down Bruce’s spine. “Neither have I.” It was a deflection and they both knew it. It killed Bruce to know y/n was so scared. But there wasn’t anything he could do about it–other than find those responsible and make them pay. She wouldn’t want his comfort, wouldn’t want him to hover, so he was doing the next best thing and trying to end it. 

Alfred sighed. “All I’m saying is–” 

“I know what you’re saying.” 

“Then why do I have to keep saying it?” 

Bruce went back to ignoring the older man. Let Alfred think what he wanted. Bruce had work to do. Nothing would get better until Frank Gallo and the rest of his family and cronies were gone for good. 

What gives you the right to act like this? she’d asked, all of her anger turned towards Bruce like a roaring inferno. What gave him the right? He had admitted it to her right before that–I give too much of a shit. 

She didn’t know he was still in love with her. That he always had been. 

He’d hurt her so badly she couldn’t see what was right in front of her face–who he was, how he felt, what it was doing to him. If she would just open her eyes, she would know. 

Instead, she had yelled at him. 

He deserved it. He knew he deserved it. But walking in and seeing her hold Officer Martinez’s hand…it made him crazy. He had acted like the worst type of bastard without even thinking. It was pure instinct, the urge to protect her even from a guy like Martinez rising so strongly within him that it was almost as if he had blacked out. Like someone else had taken over his body. 

She rarely ever got mad at him. It had only happened a few times throughout their many years together. It was a sight to behold, her rage, and he had been equal measures impressed and angry both. 

“I don’t have time for this,” Bruce said after long stretch of silence. His voice was raw with exhaustion and emotion. “Either help me figure this out or go back upstairs.” 

He felt rather than saw Alfred bristle. He waited to get berated yet again, but Alfred merely pulled up the footage on another screen and got to work. 

They spent a few minutes in silence, Bruce’s eyes burning from lack of sleep, his thoughts churning. She hasn’t slept. He ached to go upstairs, to tell y/n that she was safe with him, that he would never let anything happen to her. 

But it already had, and all of it had been his fault. 

He knew without a doubt, just as he had known three years ago, that she was safest far away from him. And look what had happened already–the more she’d become entangled with him, with the Batman, the worse things got. She had spent three years in Bludhaven, far away from him, perfectly safe. And the minute she had come home to Gotham, come home to him…it had all gone to shit. Really it had gone to shit before that–when her grandmother had left the tower for the last time. 

Bruce liked to think that was his fault, too, not that he’d ever it admit it out loud. 

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty,” Alfred said into the silence. His voice was gentle, almost placating. 

“Mm.” It wasn’t working, then, Bruce thought. He already felt guilty enough. 

“I hate seeing you like this. Both of you.” Alfred sighed again. “I just think that talking about it–all of it–would help you both. It might ease the strain of…everything else going on.”

Bruce couldn’t see how it could help, only how it would make things worse. But he didn’t say that to Alfred, merely nodded and kept working. 

Two nights later, all Bruce could think about was that Alfred had been right. 

He should have told y/n the truth while he had the chance.

taglist:

@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic @alexiris @that-girl-named-alex @harry-bowie-mercury @vaniasagitaa @widows-writings @missing-loki @exactlyelegantwizard @miriamnox @mavenmoon @eclipsedplanet @spencerrxids @giulia2372 @katara-is-a-goddess-changemymind @janezat @incorrectmarvelquotesss @spiritdetectivel @i-have-no-life-charlie @ilovemybabes @curseyouperrytheplatypus @lightsinmycity @yondiii @spideybv28 @fictionalmansl4t

#bruce wayne x reader #battinson x reader #the batman x reader #the batman 2022 #the batman #battinson #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #battinson x you

[litnerdwrites]

How torturous is it to love with everything your heart can give, and then some, only for your acts of love to either be forgotten about or to be treated like the villain for caring? And on top of that, you never once receive even a fraction of the love back.

Nesta loved Feyre enough to go to the wall for her, and she would've gone farther, if she were able, only for Feyre to forget.

Nesta spent her entire childhood taking her mother's abuse so her sister's didn't have to, only for Elain to turn her back on her.

Nesta spent her whole life trying to give Elain the love that she would've given anything to receive from their mother, for Elain to abandon her and condemn her when she needed that love more than ever.

Nesta joined a war for Feyre, only for it all to be forgotten.

She stayed in the mortal lands, despite it being dangerous after the Queens denied the IC's request for the book, clearly ready to sacrifice their people, including Nesta and Elain, all because Elain wanted to be near her betrothed and be comfortable, just for Elain to try and force Nesta out of her safe space, and into uncomfortable situations.

Nesta stayed with Elain, putting aside her own trauma for her sake to look after her, but when she needed the same love and understanding, Elain abandoned her for the comforts Feyre provided.

Nesta put aside her own trauma to help with war efforts, but it's never brought up again.

Nesta is most likely the one who cooked and cleaned and looked after the cabin, and who thanked her?

Nesta is the one who demanded their neglectful father be held accountable for his failures, but, instead, that burden was forced onto her.

Nesta is the one who demanded Rhysand be held accountable for lying to both her and Feyre, only for Feyre to turn around and laugh at the idea of her being punished for something Feyre said herself, that she isn't mad at.

Nesta endured verbal abuse at the hands of Feyre's new family, let them stare at her like a zoo animal, and didn't comment on it.

Nesta would've gone into the blood right after Emerie and Gwyn, laws be damned, to save them. She would've done it for any of them, only for them to decide she's fine and leave her there. Did they worry about her while she was there? Azriel didn't seem worried. Neither did Feyre or Elain.

That's not even the half of it. Nesta loved so much, with her whole heart, and not a single person could give it back to her. Not one. How tiring, and heart breaking must that be for her? The thought alone brings me to tears.

#nesta deserves better #nesta archeron deserves better #anti inner circle #pro nesta #anti acosf #pro nesta archeron #nesta acotar #anti mor #anti amren #anti rhysand #anti ic #nesta archeron #anti elain #anti feyre #sjm critical #acotar critical #feyre critical #anti cassian #anti nessian #anti morrigan #anti rhys #Poor Nesta #It's heartbreaking what she goes through because of them #She needs to ditch them. 100%

[phangneh]

Voice In The Abyss

[CHAPTER Ⅰ]

✨Manhwa : Into The Light Once Again

✨Elmir royal family x Fem!Reader

✨Warning : princess!reader, lost memory, yandere elements (both platonic and romantic), protect, ... (will add more)

📌Note: this is just a fanfic, there are many details unrelated to the original story line. English is not my native language, if I make grammatical mistakes or use incorrect words, please forgive me.

🎭Summary : You have a voice that is said to change the world, when you sing, your sweet voice makes people happy and all things flourish. One day, your kingdom was destroyed, you had to live with the pain of losing your family and being severely mistreated. But it seems that you will die in misery, there will be people who will come and take you out of the abyss.

[ Introduce ]

[ Chapter 1 ]

Looks like there's a noise on the ground, you think. But you're not really sure, is it really noise? Or are your ears just imagining for themselves?

It's been a long time, even a little warmth of sunlight you haven't even seen, two years of being confined to a dark underground prison, all your senses and body have been worn out. Dark, cold, snake centipede insects you are also used to.

When will you be freed?

Why aren't you dead yet?

Eventually, you find yourself lying on the moldy, slurping ground. A finger can't move now, is God taking you?

The noise doesn't go away, but at this moment you don't care about it anymore. When you close your eyes, it feels like you're leaning on your mother's lap, and she sings you lullabies. There is the voice of your mother, of your father, of your brothers and sisters, it seems that you are with them.

And then you don't feel anything anymore.

...

You wake up, light creeping into the corner of your eye. Brilliant, and uncomfortable. But it's also warm and comfortable. Your head is blank, strangely enough, you don't have any memories in your head. You can't think of anything, you're so strange around, you wonder where this is, there's a lot of mixed emotions, anxiety, fear, restlessness in you,... Suddenly the door of the room opens, a woman enters and is alarmed to realize you have woken up, she is so shocked that she almost dropped the tray in her hand.

"She's awake!"

She speaks something you don't understand. You're vague, weak, but still aware enough that two people came in later, they both looked in a hurry, and seemed surprised to see you open your eyes. Who's that? Do you know them?

"Are you okay? How are you feeling?" A soft voice that you can hear, she speaks a language that you understand, you want to answer, but your throat is too weak to say something.

The owner of the voice was a woman with a gentle and beautiful face, her eyes were like beautiful purple jewels.

She looked very worried... Why?

"Hurry up and call the priest here!" Another voice, but that of the younger girl, they were the same, they both had cloud-white hair, but she had blue eyes... It was like that lake, clear and shining. She was as beautiful as an angel.

"It's going to be fine, you're safe."

You are confused, why are you here, who they are, why are you like this, so many questions in your mind.

What happened?

...

You gaze silently out the light-filled window, your aimless eyes gazing into the distance. It's been two days since you woke up, Empress Iris – that beautiful purple-eyed woman said that you have been in a coma for almost 1 month since they found you.

"(Y/n) (L/n)"

The name crosses your mind, people say it's your name. You don't remember anything, your dark eyes look down at your bandaged hands, not an inch of flesh is healed right now, everywhere is full of wounds, some have become infected, some have become scars.

You are now in the Elmir Empire, a beautiful and prosperous Empire. Somehow you have been taken care of directly by the royal palace, everyone here is kind to you, even if you do not understand their language, but it seems that their words mean good. The only people you can hear are Empress Iris and Princess Aisha, who are by your side for two days today.

"(Y/n)"

The gentle voice wakes you up from the train of thought, Princess Aisha, she is looking at you with worried eyes.

"How are you feeling? Does it hurt anywhere?"

You shake your head slightly, then your tired eyes can see how relieved she is to see you're okay. Anytime you see anxiety on people's faces, you realize that you are the cause of that anxiety.

"Tell me if you're uncomfortable, please! I'll handle everything."  Aisha gave you a reassuring smile, hoping to get some reaction from you. For the past two days, the priests have taken turns treating you. Your condition has improved significantly, you can eat normally and move around more. Even so, you still look empty, like a lifeless doll. Aisha hopes that after you can walk, she will take you for a walk around the palace grounds. It will certainly be very quick, the divine power of the priests will help you recover quickly.

You really can't help but feel grateful for the care and concern of everyone in the Elmir royal family, from the Empress, Princess to the servants, they are truly good people. You were sure of it after only two days of interacting with them, there really was no one who could care for another person with such incredible enthusiasm.

However, for Aisha.

To this day, Aisha can't forget the moment you were taken back to the palace, you almost stopped breathing, disheveled... and couldn't have looked more horrible. They can't imagine what you've been through, your body is full of wounds big and small, sickness and skin diseases. Anyone who saw your condition was dumbfounded, there were no words that could describe you then. They wonder if the people who make you like this are still human.

So cruel.

So evil.

Why would they treat a human being like that?

Even if you don't know them, their hearts won't allow them to leave you alone. Luckily, they narrowly saved your life.

Aisha finishes her flashbacks, she looks up at you, seeing your eyes staring at her startles her.

"W-what's wrong?"

You look at her intently, after a while, you open your mouth slightly, but then you stop. You feel like you want to say something to her. But somehow, you want to say something. You become confused, struggling to find a way to express your thoughts.

"You want to say something?"

Seeing that she understood, you quickly nodded. Aisha thought, then quickly ran out of the room, you looked at her puzzledly, Aisha came back very quickly, in her hand were a few sheets of paper with a pen and ink.

"We can communicate this way, if you can't already speak" Princess Aisha certainly couldn't hide her joy knowing you wanted to talk, because probably from the moment you woke up, apart from nodding or shaking your head to express your best friend's thoughts, you didn't express anything that sounded like you wanted to talk. Aisha is really curious what you want to say to her.

When you pick up the paper and pen from Aisha, you pause for a moment, then start writing something. Your hands trembling, the black letters trembling on the paper, the Princess stares at you intently, waiting for what you are writing. After you stop, you slowly hold up the paper in front of her, Aisha narrows her eyes, trying to see your indistinct zigzag handwriting clearly.

"Thank you"

"For was... take care of you?" Aisha looked up at you, meeting your expectant gaze. When you nod, she knows she's read exactly what you want to say.

Before she could say anything more, Aisha saw you start writing on paper, looking urgent and hurried, as if you were afraid you'd miss the time to speak your mind.

"Once I'm well, I'll leave right away."

As she read those words, Aisha frowned slightly.

"Why? Where are you going?" She asks you, leaving you momentarily confused.

"Go Home"

Go home.

That's what you want, even if there is no memory of your so-called 'home' in your mind.

Aisha can't help but be surprised, because since you regained consciousness from that coma, no one has told you about your hometown, maybe 'home' is not something you would think about now. But now, you tell her you want to go home. How can Aisha tell you that your home is now a ruin?

"(Y/n), you can only stay in Elmir for now..."

When the Princess says that, you look confused, your eyes on her waiting for an explanation.

"Well... You see, your health is still unstable, right?"

"Staying in Elmir will give you time to recuperate, and I and everyone will take care of you."

So... For now, please rest assured to stay in Elmir, okay?

[ Chapter 2 ]

#manhwa x reader #isis de elmir x reader #into the light once again #isis de elmir #aisha de elmir #Iris de Elmir #Tyrion de Elmir #yandere platonic #yandere romantic #yandere platonic x reader #🔮phangneh #fanfic #isis x reader

[dazai-ritualist]

You said you willing to write another part?! WELL IM ALL FOR IT!!! EREEEEEEERFFHENEN

Ok so perhaps the mother or father of Ken goes a little crazy perhaps they set reader’s home on fire. (It’s up to you if the kids are in it or not. Or perhaps you can make it where they come in one by one.) Reader could probably die from the house fire and end up in hell. Noah could’ve gotten shot while on the job and Emi could’ve gotten murdered(when she’s a tad more older of course) the family back together in hell and reader thinking she was free from Al only to fall into his arms again.

There is always going to be that one angry family member blaming reader and her kids for the death of their loved one.

IMGONNAGETYOUBACK.

[why not read the story first? 😋]

— 6 years after your husband’s passing, he decides that it’s been far too long. and, he enlists the help of a certain imp to retrieve his wife from the over-world.

hell was not all so bad. it was quite similar to the living world, only with the company of the supernatural. as soon as alastor had arrived in hell, it was quite easy to gain power— inflict terror by using their fear of dying once more and take advantage of their greed for power.

but, this was all just far too boring. killing overlords, quite repetitive. and it was so awfully dull to terrorize sinners on the streets of pentagram city. alastor wanted someone who’d fight back. alastor wanted you.

he was in hell though. was there even a way to get you? of course there is. if it was you that alastor desired so badly, it’d be you who he’d get. he’d find a way, even if he had to claw his way out of hell and drag you down to the dark depths with him.

though, it seems he wouldn’t have to. rumor has it there’s a small start up company in imp city. a company who specializes in killing humans in the over-world given pay. might as well investigate, right?

and so, alastor headed off to imp city, finding a rundown office building where this I.M.P. supposedly ran their business. and on the 7th floor (according to the sign in the elevator), he, indeed, found their headquarters.

“oh fucking finally, someone’s using the door for once!” the tall imp cursed out. “nice to meet ‘ya. i’m blitzø, the ‘o’ is silent.” he said, shaking alastor’s hand. “right, my name is alastor. pleasure to be meeting you, my good man, quite the pleasure!” he nodded assuredly as he wiped his hand on the coat. “sooo… if you’re here, you must want someone gone, hm? who is it? ex-wife? did she fuck the next door neighbor or something? c’mon, give me the all the dirty details!” blitzø asked, overwhelming him with questions.

“ah, not quite. you have a portal to the human realm, correct?” alastor asked, confirming the rumors. “yeah, if you’re thinking about going in with us, no can do.” blitzø shrugged defeatedly. “ah, no, no. just confirming the rumors.” he said. “i want you to go into the human realm, yes. and, i need you to kill my wife. i miss her dearly.” he sighed sorrowfully, despite his smile.

“yeah— see, i can’t guarantee your wife’s gonna go down here if she was some sorta saint or whatever.” blitzø said. “oh, she will most definitely go to hell, i can assure you that.” alastor grinned. despite alastor’s assurance, blitzø seemed unconvinced… “i’ll pay you handsomely.” alastor said, summoning a sum of money with a flick of his wrist. “it’s a deal! MILLIE, MOXXIE, GET YOUR ASSES HERE!” blitzø shouted out to what seemed to be a conference room. “don’t you worry, sir! we’ll make sure your wife’s down here by the end of the week!” he assured alastor cheerfully, his demeanor seemingly changing after the topic of money was brought into the conversation. “ah, very well then!” alastor grinned as he shrugged off, dropping the sum of cash by the doorstep as he left.

by the end of the week? he could wait that long.

1939, the great depression had finally passed. without alastor to provide for the family, it had been hard. but, the three of you had been able to manage. your children had grown into wonderful adults, noah taking in his widowed mother and unmarried sister along with his own family.

your daughter-in-law was simply the sweetest thing. she reminded you of your innocent self all those years ago. but, your son is better than his father. there’s no reason to worry at all.

everything was good now. everything is fine.

“ma, you okay? you hardly touched your food.” noah asked. “hm? it’s alright, dear. i’m not so hungry anyway. francesca, eat up, will you? you must nourish yourself after all.” you pushed your plate towards your daughter-in-law, pregnant with her second child. “ah, really? alright then, thank you…” she bashfully grinned, accepting your plate.

“here, darling. let me take claire to bed.” you smiled, taking your granddaughter into your arms from her high chair. “eh? you sure, momma?” noah asks. “of course i am! just eat, dear. i’ll be fine if i skip a meal or two.” you assured your son as you headed up, taking claire to her cradle upstairs.

the small thing was already drooling and passing out in her chair. she had to rest in her crib, lest she get terrible posture. you burped the tiny baby over your shoulder before lowering her down as she clings to her binky, a plush of a bunny in a pink dress.

you admired the adorable baby for a few more moments before deciding to return to your room. but, as you were doing so, a bullet pierced the window, glass shards getting all over claire. “wh…what in the world..?!” you panicked as you ran back to your granddaughter, removing the sharp shards from her soft skin.

“satan almighty, what the fuck was that moxxie?!” a voice roared from outside, in the trees..? “i’m sorry, sir— there was a child! i couldn’t hurt it just because the target was there.” the so-called moxxie reasoned. “well, good job, cause you got glass on the little shit and woke it up!” the voice huffed out.

you cooed to your granddaughter, hushing her cries and gently rubbing her wounds. and just then, these mysterious creatures hopped in from the window. “ow— fuck, thanks a lot, moxxie, you fucking cuck!” the tallest creature groaned, painfully picking out the shards of glass on his feet. the moxxie creature looked rightfully offended as he held his gun towards you.

“who are you? are you here to kill me..?” you asked, frightful for your life. “who sent you?!” you started to grow defensive. “yeah, that doesn’t matter. all that does is that someone wants you dead. so, can we skip the whole ‘begging for your life’ thing?cause that’s not working on us.” the creature shrugged.

you looked everywhere for some sort of escape route. your eyes darted everywhere, trying so desperately to find a way out of this odd situation. but, there was nothing. there was no way to win this, the only thing you could do was accept your fate.

you kissed claire one last time, laying her in her cradle with her binky once more. because— well, that was all that you could do. you went in front of the gun, and lowered yourself to your knees. and with the muzzle in physical contact with your forehead…

BAM!

you bled out on the floor.

and, when you awoke, you were in an alleyway. the sky was red, and it smelt awful. your body felt weak. you stood up, looking for any reflective surface. you didn’t know what it was, but something was off.

you searched, coming upon a window from a store. and, there it was. your new appearance. your skin shined, reflecting in the red sky. and, clinked with each step you took; porcelain. your lips were as red as blood, and you were dressed in a simple dress, befitting a woman of your time.

the bell of the store rang, a red-deer man had been exiting. he glanced at you, curious. “ehh… pardon me, sir. do i know you? your staring is making me awfully uncomfortable…” you told the man. “ah! just as i thought.” he said through a radio filter. “just as you thought..?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“oh, darling, don’t you remember me? it’s me, your husband!” he grinned widely, taking you into his arms.

…

it all made sense now. he had paid those creatures to kill you… for his own selfish desires. from a demon such as alastor, you should have probably seen it coming.

“come along now, my love. 6 years is an awfully long time. we have a lot of catching up to do!” he pulled you along by your elbow. “and, smile, darling. you’re never fully dressed without one!” he sang out. “of course, darling…” you said as grit your teeth. the vomit you had to hold back was almost irrepressible.

and, as he dragged you along, it made you think.

was there truly a god?

a god who was merciful?

because, no merciful god would bind you with this demon in life and death.

EKKK HI!!! i acc have my own lore for wjen the children die 😋💞

— noah; age 56 (he goes to hell for his cover-up last chapter and animal cruelty) he married and had 3 kids 😋

— emilia; age 62 (she goes to hell for manipulating sm people into doing dirty work for her) she died unmarried, lowk thinking that she’d move in with her best friend despite it being controversial at the time

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor the radio demon #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere

[zaldritzosrose]

Divine Violence: Part Two

Summary: Prophecy was a dangerous thing. “The one akin to you, will be your downfall.” Daemon could only think of one. His nephew, Aemond. He had not even considered another. Viserra. His niece. While unlike him in physical skill and prowess, she was more than Daemon’s mirror in temperament. The twins, married in the ways of Valyria, and a force that Daemon soon would reckon with.

TW: She/Her Pronouns, use of OC (Viserra Targaryen), mentions of character deaths, canon-typical incest/twincest, mentions of child death, descriptions of sex (not full smut).

Words: 1,769

Valyrian translations at the bottom of the post.

And AGAIN, thank you @legitalicat for being my lovely beta!

Sex and Vengeance

She felt sick. Stomach twisting into knots over and over. Jaehaerys dying was one thing, but to know Daemon had been the one behind the act was another. Viserra could not bear to tell Aegon herself, sending word through Ser Criston and Larys Strong instead. What she felt was nothing compared to what Aegon would feel, she knew that, but she could not bring herself to see the emotions when they raged through him.

Aemond, however, knew something was wrong the moment she entered their chambers.

“Ābrazyrys?” Aemond asked, the moment she shut the door, just one word enough to convey his concern.

He was a man of few words, in even Viserra, but he was perceptive. From the way her brow remained furrowed, and her hands clenched and relaxed. Aemond knew she had been down to the cells, something he had not hesitated to berate Aegon for allowing. Not that Aemond believed she would be unsafe, but he knew whatever she heard would shake her to her core.

When she did not answer, he walked over, setting down his book with little ceremony. His focus now was Viserra, hands on her arms to keep her in front of him.

“Tell me.”

Only then did she look at him, concern evident in the way he stared and the thin set of his lips. But it was as though she could not form words. Nothing would be enough to convey what she felt.

“Daemon.” Was all she could manage. But it was enough.

Aemond could piece together the rest and Viserra could feel the subtle tightening of his grip as he held back his own anger. His rage could wait. Revenge would be had, one way or another. But he had to focus on her now.

“It was Daemon…” She repeated, as if finally coming to terms with the situation.

Aemond remained silent, words were not what Viserra needed right now. He knew her as well as himself, like she was an extension of his own body and soul. He led her gently to the couch by the fire, where he had been reading when she entered. Silently, he sat down and coaxed her into his lap.

He could almost hear her mind whirring, processing everything that had happened. Not only today, but in the last few weeks. Lucerys, dead. Jaehaerys, dead. Helaena catatonic and Aegon sick with rage. Their mother and grandsire doing the best to hold the family together. Her only solace was Aemond now, the only one who could keep her sane.

His hands rested on her back, pulling her closer and urging her to curl her body into his. She was quick to relent, her head buried in his neck as she finally let herself process it all. Tears soaked the fabric of his shirt, but Aemond cared little. Viserra needed it. He needed it, his own eye stinging with tears he still would not shed. His hands firm as he rubbed up and down her back, slowly but surely calming the heaving of her breath as she sobbed.

“We have to do something.” Viserra mumbled, or at least that is what Aemond thought she said.

He leaned back and tilted her body to look at her, his finger under her chin. One brow raised which told her to repeat herself.

“We need to do something.” She said again, this time far more forceful.

Aemond knew where she was headed. Revenge. The same thing he wanted, that Aegon wanted. That their family wanted. But the way she asked, the look in her eyes. She meant the two of them. Not the family.

Them.

“We?” Aemond asked, his thumb stroking over the curve of her chin.

“What shall we do, my love?” he asked, his thumb now tugging down gently on the flesh of her lip.

Viserra paused, distracted by not only his proximity, but the warmth of his hand and the way he stared. What did she want? Revenge, yes. But how? It was not as though they could demand Daemon be brought to them, that would never work.

They needed to be clever about this.

Aemond took advantage of her silence and began to pepper kisses over her neck and jaw. For the two of them, there was never a wrong moment for intimacy. Nothing ever stood in the way of their respective appetites.

“What would my sweet idaña do in her vengeance?” Aemond muttered between kisses, knowing his voice and touch was enough to not only relax her, but entice her.

The sigh Viserra let out was enough to tell him it was working. The way she leaned into him, silently asking for more contact.

“We cannot demand Daemon come stand for his deeds…” Viserra said softly, doing her best to concentrate as Aemond moved down her jaw to her neck.

All she received in response was a hum of approval. Politics and strategy were his game, not hers. She preferred the more, secretive arts. Using the smallest morsel of information against another where she could, an art she had perfected by now. Aemond focused solely on distracting her, letting her relax and think things through.

With practised hands, he maneuvered her to straddle his lap, hands squeezing her thighs when she did not continue talking.

“Word says he is in Harrenhal, laying claim to the stronghold for Rhaenyra’s cause,”

Aemond nodded as he nipped at her neck, hands continuing to knead the flesh of her thighs as he bunched her skirts higher. All of this was the obvious part, to him anyway. But he needed Viserra to work things through. She needed to work things through.

“Harrenhal would be a prize and more for our cause, would it not, brother?” Viserra pulled herself away to force his answer.

“A prize, yes, but how would we take it?” Aemond countered and Viserra narrowed her eyes at him, earning her a smirk in response as he resumed his attack on her skin.

“Our uncle is arrogant, but he will expect retaliation. He would expect Aegon to send an army at least,” Viserra replied as her hands tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to have him biting a little harder at her neck.

“So, we do not send an army.”

Aemond had to admit, he had not expected such coherence in her plan. Not because he doubted her intelligence, Viserra was more than she seemed. But because he had expected to be filled with a rage that would near burn her from the inside, not be calculated and planned in her vengeance so soon. His smirk could be felt against her neck, telling her she was right.

“I do listen when you prattle on about strategy, you know, my darling,” Viserra purred, tugging him away from her neck and bringing his lips to hers.

“Jāhor ao gūrogon vengeance rūsīr issa?”

Aemond near growled in response, even more so to the High Valyrian. Ever since Storm’s End, he had kept vengeance in his mind and heart. The death of Jaehaerys had only made that need greater. Now, having Viserra has desperate for it as he was, he would leave tonight and burn Harrenhal to the ground if she asked.

"Va moriot.” Was the last word from Aemond’s lips before he had his lips on hers, near throwing her down onto the couch below in his haste.

Some men found lust and desire by softer means, like the flirtation or tender touch of their lady. Aemond, however, found it in the darkness that lived in his sweet sister. That fire that never failed to have both his heart and cock demanding her. And Viserra was always willing.

Aemond’s hands slid under her skirts, making quick work of her smallclothes before slipping his fingers deftly between her folds. It seemed talking about vengeance atop him had been enough to get his precious wife excited. But Viserra was not here for his teasing this time.

“Do not tease tonight, valzȳrys,” Viserra hissed down at him and Aemond chuckled but relented. He knew better than to argue.

He made quick work of his preparations, fingertips spreading her slick over her skin as his other hand made quick work of his own breeches. Tonight, would not be a night for soft caresses and slow sensuality. But Aemond remained gentle as he entered her, as he always was, earning him a moan from Viserra to match his own growl of satisfaction.

His movements were gentle but hurried, pushing inside her until he could move no further. Hands pinning hers above her head as he began to rut into her, lips kissing whatever skin he could.

There was no softness and romance, the two of them pouring all emotion they had into this one act. Aemond’s thrusts brutal as he kissed and nipped any skin he could. Viserra’s nails digging into the hand that held her wrists while her legs wrapped tight around his waist.

Soon, release found them both. Nothing but grunts and growls from Aemond mixed with the soft chants of his name from Viserra. Slowly, he stilled, gently settling his weight atop her as he released her hands.

“I will give you, and our family, the vengeance we deserve, my sweet sister…”

Alys had been summoned to Daemon’s chambers, which surprised her. The prince never asked for her presence since she had given him her last vision. He had all but avoided her. But he had been given word that she had done nothing but stare into her flames for the last three days.

The three days that had past since word had reached him of the success of Blood and Cheese, and rumours had circled she had seen another vision.

“You called, my prince?” Alys asked, standing close to the door as Daemon turned to acknowledge her.

He nodded, gesturing for Alys to come closer.

“The servants said you have been at the flames? Is this true?” Daemon asked, sounding sceptical as usual.

Alys knew this was coming, despite how he would mock her abilities, he still sought them out.

“I have, do you wish to know what I saw?”

Daemon knew to take the witch’s words with a grain of salt. Never outrightly believe what she said, but he needed to know. And what Alys had seen, would change everything. The question was, how much would she reveal?

Alys began to explain, in her usual frustratingly ambiguous way, her vision. The sudden rush of sight that had hit her hard as she had stared into the flames. Slips of silver hair. The quick flashes of blood, flame, and battle.

A decision made.

Vengeance would be taken.

Valzȳrys = husband

Idaña = twin

Ābrazyrys = wife

“Jāhor ao gūrogon vengeance rūsīr issa?” = "Will you take vengeance with me?"

"Va moriot." = "Always."

a/n I do use a translator so the High Valyrian won't be perfect!

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