#there are SO MANY MORE memories like this

[gay-dorito-dust]

I have been binging your work!

I don't know if this breaks your trauma rule or not, but (with the guys of your choosing as long as Ratio is there) how would the guys react to losing reader (they haven't confessed feelings yet) during a mission and thinking they died. Then, the reader reappears a week later bandaged up, but alive. Maybe spouts their confession first? ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

I adore your writing. Thank you!

This is way too fucking long, so be warned. It’s like I rammed 4 mini stories in one but got lost at some point cuz I left this ask to collect dust. Also thanks for enjoying my writing it’s much appreciated. :) 🦦🐿️

Sunday:

The moment he got news that you’ve been assumed dead in the aftermath of a dangerous mission, he looses composure really quickly.

Loosing Robin was one thing but loosing you on top of that was the straw that broke the camels back.

He originally doesn’t believe that you were gone, he refuses to as he practically tears his office to shreds in a fit of anger and grief before forcing himself to regain composure and clean up after his outburst. He needed to in order to keep up the illusion that he was the levelheaded leader The Family needed in these moments of chaos and mistrust.

Even if he himself was breaking down internally alongside everyone else, hellbent on finding the culprit for your death and punishing them so severely that they’d beg for death. He’d avenge you in anyway he could, even if it meant sending out the bloodhound family on a wild goose chase that only ends in dead ends, he would get you justice no matter how it may come.

His heart had died alongside you that day.

So when a week passes and he finally has you back in his arms, all the while being carful with your wounds as his eyes searched you over in a way you weren’t use to.

‘You’re alive.’ He breathes out in relief as he then begins to laugh and rest his head against yours, breathing you in deeply as he relishes in this long awaited moment. ‘Of course you’re alive.’ He mutters.

‘Sunday,’ you began but Sunday was quite to cut you off.

‘Do you know how I felt thinking you were dead? Driving myself insane to prove that you were still alive anyway I could as not to bear the idea of walking through this life without the one person I love so dearly.’ Sunday takes a brief pauses in his monologue, feeling out of breath after having put everything out into the open before continuing. ‘I thought my heart had stopped beating that day and now I have you bad in my arms.’ Sunday then chuckles darkly as he gripped you tighter. ‘I’ll ensure that I’d never have to revisit that part of my life ever again.’

‘Sunday-‘

‘Shhh.’ Sunday cuts you off once more, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he holds you close to his chest, rubbing your back soothingly. ‘Just know that what I do after this, I do out of my love for you.’ He says against your forehead before pressing another kiss there for good measure.

Jing yuan:

Loss wasn’t new to Jing Yuan.

He has experienced it in multiple forms throughout his life, but that didn’t made the news of your death any less painful for the General.

While his mind might’ve made peace with the fact that you were gone, his heart however did not as he would find himself in the places that you often vacated to in moments of stress, or to just be left alone for a while with your thoughts. So to no longer see you in any of those hidden spots -waiting for him to find you like you usually did- only worsened the grief he felt in his heart as he sat himself down and allowed the memories to pass over him in waves.

You were both so happy together and felt a sense of fulfilment that could only be achieved when you were within the other’s presence; A feeling that was uniquely yours and yours alone that could never be replicated, ever. For no one could ever come close to replacing you, nor the companionship you and he had for each other that many assumed would blossom into something more; Jing Yuan also shared the same sentiments as they did, but just as he built the courage to push that boundary between the two of you, you were taken from him before he could utter a single word.

So when a week passes and Jing Yuan found your battered and beaten form in one of your secret spots, back resting against a tree with your eyes closed.

‘Y/n?’ He called out and your eyes opened upon hearing his voice and looking at him with a weak smile. ‘Hey General, miss me?’ You said as you struggled to get up to your feet, only to stumble forward and into Jing Yuan’s chest as his strong yet gentle hands hold you in place.

‘More than you could ever hope to know.’ Jing yuan said as he focused on how you felt beneath his hands, warm and alive.

‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ You muttered against his chest as his warmth made you realised just how tired you were from everything you’ve experienced this last week alone. ‘I never meant to keep you waiting in fear that you’d forget about me if I don’t stay in your life long enough.’ You admit and Jing Yuan instinctively presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding you protectively.

‘I could never forget about you my beloved.’ Jing Yuan reassured you as he looked you deep into your eyes. ‘You’ve managed to carve your place within my heart and soul, so much that there isn’t a day where you aren’t all I think about, regardless of whether or not your by my side or far away.’ He finished by pressing a gentle kiss to the gauze on your cheek, chuckling upon seeing your cute attempts of burrowing your face into his chest.

‘How long have you’ve been waiting to say this.’ You asked, thankful that he was the one to admit his feelings first, as you would’ve had a hard time articulating your words as fluidly as he could.

‘For a very long time.’ Jing Yuan replied with a small smile as he then proceeded to lift you into his arms, cuasing you to squeal in surprise, as he made sure to be carful of your wounds and began walking to the nearest medics to make sure your wounds weren’t going to be trouble later on.

Aventurine:

He didn��t know what to think when you were pronounced dead, all Aventurine could feel in that moment was an overwhelming numbness that encased him entirely.

The only light left in his life had been snuffed out, plummeting him into utter and total darkness he had once been well acquainted with until you came along, giving him a reason to keep looking forward despite everything.

You were no longer here to hold onto his left hand before he could even think of hiding it behind his back out of habit, you were no longer here to be his reason, his comfort, his safe place. You were taken away from him unfairly and once again Aventurine found himself asking the same question he has been asking himself for a long time; why everyone was born into this life just to die.

So when a week passes and Aventurine finds himself sat on a bench somewhere, still not dealing well then than he was the week of your assumed passing, lost in his own thoughts when someone took a seat next to him. Aventurine was just about ready to tell them to go away, when he saw just who was sitting next to him; you.

‘I know, I look like shit but you don’t have to look at me like that.’ You spoke upon feeling his eyes gaze upon the gauze on your cheek, then towards the array of bandages that littered the rest of your body.

‘I thought you died.’ He hissed, emotion was heavy in his voice as his eyes became bleary with unshed tears as he felt his breathing become heavy with the reality that you were alive. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t in that moment as his mind raced. And it wasn’t until you reached out to grasp his left hand and intertwine your fingers together, squeezing, did everything finally became clear to him.

‘I thought I was too at one point but there was something that kept me from journeying over to the afterlife.’ You admit, looking over at him and smiling sweetly, wanting nothing then to calm his thoughts and reassure him that this wasn’t a dream.

‘And what was that?’ He laughs humourlessly as he stares back at you, wanting to hear what excuses you could come up with for faking being dead for a week. ‘Willpower? Determination?’

‘You Kakavasha.’ You replied straightforwardly and his breath hitched in his throat. You rarely used his actual name unless it was absolutely serious. ‘You were all I thought about as I pushed through my injuries.’ You told him as you continued. ‘Kakavasha is waiting for me was just about all I could think about for a week straight.’ You finished as though you didn’t just confess that he was your soul motivator in staying alive.

‘Really?’ Aventurine said softly, finding it impossible that he could possibly be your reason for anything. ‘Why?’

‘Yes really.’ You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder. ‘As for why, it’s because I like you more then did let myself admit, but i just wanted you to know incase anything truly bad were to ever happen to me-‘

‘No.’ Aventurine cut you off suddenly, squeezing your hand as though he were afraid. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you, not now. not ever. I just got you back.’ He adds resting his head against your own in a desperate attempt of feeling more of your against him. ‘Just stay with me…please.’ He begs you in a whisper as he nuzzled further into you. ‘and don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I don’t think I can bear the thought of loosing you again.’

You smiled softly as you just whispered back against the skin of his neck. ‘As long as you don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I like my crush to be alive and close by even if he can be a pain in my ass sometimes.’

Aventurine chuckles, his heart becoming whole again as he made you cuddle into his side, kissing your head once more as you took this moment to familiarise yourselves with each other. ‘At least I’m a pleasurable pain in the ass.’ He teased and you pinch his side, causing him to flinch, but his smile remained and this time his smile was genuine.

His light has came home.

Ratio:

Fully believed that he’d see you when the mission ended, knowing just how talented and dedicated to the craft you were, and having faith that this would be a measly walk in a park for you.

Only to receive word that you were one of the many who were assumed dead when you weren’t found amongst the living nor the dead.

Veritas tries to remain as levelheaded and logical as possible during this time and continue life as normal. However found himself retracting from everyone else and going none contact, more so specifically with the people you were once associated with, and instead focused heavily on his studies and academics to an unhealthy extent.

A week passes and Veritas feels as though he’s seen a ghost the moment he saw you in his peripheral vision, bandaged and dressed in ripped clothing but still somehow finding it in you to smile.

‘You idiotic Buffon!’ He exclaims as he walks towards you.

‘Well that’s a nice way to greet someone you care about.’ You replied as you readied yourself for a massive rant about how stupid you were and so on, but instead you were held against his chest as he burrows his head into your neck.

‘I thought you died.’ He says in a whisper as he breathed you in. This went against all logic but in that rare moment Veritas didn’t care, you were alive but he still couldn’t let go of the fact that you didn’t tell anyone you were still alive. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone that you were alive, send a signal, anything.’

You shrugged as you made yourself comfortable in his strong arms. ‘All communications were badly damaged or completely cut off.’ You told him. ‘I was on my own for a long while before finding my way back to you.’

‘Me?’ Veritas asked, pulling away from you. ‘Why not a medial facility for a proper treatment of your wounds? Have you hit your head so hard that common sense had been left on the back burner when making that decision?’

‘I wanted to see you first you dickhead!’ You exclaimed, shutting Veritas up rather quickly with your confession but you didn’t care. ‘is it so wrong of me to let the man I love know that I’m okay? So go ahead and call me an idiot all you like but that won’t change the fact that I felt more fear about not telling you how I truly feel then dying on some stupid mission.’ You finished your rant.

‘You’re insufferable.’ Veritas said after a moment of silence and you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at this that you didn’t notice that Veritas has began to close in the distance between the two of you.

You scoffed. ‘Oh sure call me insufferable as if you-‘ Veritas cuts you off by cupping your cheeks and planting a sweet short lived kiss against your lips before pulling away with a smirk.

‘Glad to know that the feelings are reciprocated.’ He says, taking enjoyment of rendering you speechless as he gently guided you to medical, and remaining by your side for the remainder of the day.

#hsr imagines #hsr imagine #hsr x reader #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan x you #hsr aventurine x reader #honkai star rail #Honkai star rail x reader #Honkai star rail imagine #Honkai star rail imagines #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan imagine #jing yuan imagines #hsr sunday x reader #sunday x reader #sunday imagines #sunday imagine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine imagines #aventurine imagine #veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio x you #veritas ratio imagine #veritas ratio imagines #hsr fanfic #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #hsr x y/n

[kcrossvine-art]

haiiii dungeon delvers! This is a quick one, gratefully both the materials and the dish-type are very close to their real life inspiration :D

As we speak, my favorite catgirl bestfolk is getting introduced to the anime and you haven no idea how much self control its taken to not immediately jump forward to be in sync with her, but theres SO many good recipes before we get there!!!

We will be making a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet today!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes into a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet?” YOU MIGHT ASKIts made from the egg of a basilisk, which isnt a large chicken egg but instead a large snake egg. Oblong shape, soft leather texture, and no eggwhites just yolk.

A large daikon

½ lbs fatty bacon

Shallots

Garlic

Chicken eggs

Salt

Pepper

Arugula (for garnishing)

OPTIONAL; ketchup/hot sauce :)

You could try cooking this using actual snake eggs, but theyre hard to come by and reportedly quite bland compared to chicken eggs. I tried getting my hands on an ostrich egg for the pizzaz of it all. The zoo lady was kind in her dismissal.

AND, “what does a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKOmelettes are standard fair but here we cook them like a french omelette and wrap it up like a burrito at the end.

Wetter eggs than im used to ( <- american)

Daikon and bacon r very tasty together

They end up having the same texture almost

Intensely savory. Heavy on the tummy

Chopped green onions would bring more levity to the filling

Ketchup pairs well

(but i prefer medium hot sauce)

Dark coffee pairs well

The acidity of the above 3 is what makes them work with this nutrient Dense dish

. In the show, decapitated mandrakes are more bitter than mandrakes left 'whole'. If you want that difference, using sweet/sour sauce on some of the daikon while it cooks will make the non-sauced daikon seem bitter by comparison. . Maybe ferment daikon too? . Adding a small amount of water with the bacon transfers the heat evenly, a small amount as to cook off before the fat/grease renders. Could also try cooking in the oven.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Consisting of a fluffy Basilisk egg omelet filled with minced Basilisk bacon and mandrake.If the mandrake used was killed with its 'head' still attached, it will be less bitter and more mellow" This dish is important as it marks the beginning of Senshi and Marcilles bonding, and the lead-up gives us our first glance into the school Falin and Marcille met at. Objectively the recipe is basic but it was challenging to write out.

Omelette making is muscle-memory, so having to learn the french variation and slow down felt like trying to ride a bike side-saddled.

It took about an hour and a half from laying out the ingredients, to eating the finished thing. I had to take a break in the middle of cutting veggies as my wrists are flaring up, so you could probably go faster unimpeded.

What would you rate this recipe out of 10?(with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Did you love it, did you hate it? What're your thoughts on what I could do different, and what would you have done instead?

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

1 large daikon, chopped

½ lbs fatty bacon, chopped

2 shallots

3 cloves of garlic

3 Eggs

Salt

Pepper

Some arugula (for garnishing)

OPTIONAL; ketchup/hot sauce :)

Method:

Chop your bacon into roughly ½ inch squares. Cut off the ends of your daikon and cube the rest. Thinly dice your shallots and crush your garlic cloves.

Bring a cast iron skillet to medium-high heat. Once at temp, carefully add your chopped bacon to the pan with a very small amount of water.

Add your chopped bacon and stir-fry until almost cooked.

Add your shallots and garlic. Cook for about a minute or until the shallots have softened.

Transfer the bacon, shallot, and garlic mix to a bowl. Set aside. Lower the cast iron skillet to medium heat.

Place your daikon cubes in the cast iron skillet, you should still have enough bacon grease. Add salt and cook until lightly browned on each side.

Add roughly 1 tablespoon of water. Lower heat and cover. Simmer for 2 minutes.

Once your daikon are softened, transfer to same bowl containing your bacon, shallots, and garlic.

Crack your eggs into a seperate bowl and whisk for 2 minutes until 'frothy' with no egg whites visible.

Bring the cast iron skillet back up to medium heat. There might not be enough bacon grease left, so feel free to add butter! If the butter browns you've gone too hot.

Pour your eggs into the skillet. Use a spatula to spread the eggs, scraping down the sides of the pan. Sprinkle salt and pepper in, to taste.

Once your eggs are mostly solid, pour the bacon, shallot, garlic, and daikon filling into the center. If it starts to separate- stop touching and let it rest. Gently fold the edges of the omelette overtop the filling.

Lay a few pieces of arugula on a plate, and flip your omelette onto it :) enjoy!

#dungeon meshi #food recipes #dunmeshi #delicious in dungeon #digital art

[somethingaboutmint]

My biggest plothole hangup with fallout 4 is kellog and how shitty he was done so the theory i propose: they should have just made kellog a synth lol? Like think about it:

1.) Eliminates the factor of "how the fuck did kellog live so long and not age?". Ingame shaun basically goes "institute technology we retired cuz (bullshit reason)" which is so dumb cuz its technology THAT STOPS YOU FROM AGING. But if it wasnt a real kellog but a synth recreation it would be like a cool "ooooh shit" twist moment as soon as you pick up the synth piece. Like thats not the real kellog they just made him again. Cloned him if you will.

2.) Good way to introduce the synths into the story. Theres so many places you'll see them beforehand but having kellog be the big "oh shit" moment for those who just speed through the plot would have rocked.

3.) The inherent tragedy of it. Idk i cant relate to kellog ingame cuz the memories quest utterly fails for me. Oh wow he lost his wife and child hes just like me fr- like fuck OFFFFF that happened to me too and i didnt go around killing innocent people. BOZO. But if he was a synth its a realization of like. This guy didnt do that. This is someone who fully believed he did and shared those memories but its like he didnt do it. Hes a victim of the institute just as much as you are. He legit doesnt know better. The implication of "if he found out he was a synth of a person long dead and his memories weren't real could he have gotten better" will always hang over your head.

4.) Paints institute in a more evil fucked up light . Asking shaun "what do you MEAN you recreated the guy that kidnapped you and brutally killed your other parent." And shaun just goes "well he was a good agent idk i admire the usefulness." Its like that collateral damage line but goes hard. Even better if he truly doesnt get why you're mad about it and at some point you see kellog again im the institute and are like WTF and shauns like oh we just made him again. If it makes you feel better you could kill him again too. We can make as many as you want. Like would that not be metal but also kinda horrifying

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 kellog #like its such a simple story fix imo but it works so good. am i just insane or do we fuck with this

[shnarky-blogs]

RAAAAHH I LOVE THE SICK MAN!!

can we have more of him? :>

your writing is so scrumptious btw!!! ate it up so quickk

of course darling anon!^^

ᵗᵒᵗˢᵘᵐᵒᵗᵒ ʸᵘᵘˢʰⁱ ˣ ᶠᵗᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

Summary: Just you and Yuushi having a normal fucking session and him just trying to knock you up with his seed. ₜₕᵢₛ ₘₐₙ ᵢₛ 𝒸ᵣₐᵥᵢₙ𝓰 ₐ 𝒸ₕᵢₗ𝒹

You and Yuushi met while he was trying to get some relief in some strip club, his eyes landed on you and and he couldnt help but feel something tingling in his stomach when he gazes unto your form.

Never in his life he had met someone so handsome like the man he had before him. The first time you guys fucked was the best thing he had felt in ages, but after that he needed to pay. So while still in bed with Yuushi, you were whining and crying- shaking his shoulders roughly telling him to pay you now!! but all he did was let out some hums and shrug you off after that, not even glancing at you.

So, you eventually gave up and left his apartment with annoyance in your puffy red face after crying out to him to pay you.

"I am totally never gonna see that man again.."

You grumbled to yourself but, ironically you met him again in that very strip club you guys met a month ago, you were still pissed off about him but when he offered you to fuck again.. oh! the memories of having a dick so big like his shoved in you again was a dream come true!!! but you are not gonna let this man have fun with you without paying you! its so so unfair...

but eventually gave in though... you can't say no to a cock that good. some a year had passed and both of you developed something like a romantic relationship.. it was kinda ironic of you hating that man before but now loving him with your body and soul now.

despite him being lazy most of the time he tries pushing himself to get a job again.

sometimes he thinks of having a baby with you.. the thought of you having your belly filled and bulging with his kids inside, it was so cute just imagining it.

Now youre beneath him, his cock railing in and out your sobbing pussy while he praises you.

"Good boy sweetheart.. youre so cute.."

He whispered in your ear softly, his tip hitting your cervix making you mewl out his name.

youve been fucked by him many times now but with a condom, but now he was really going to finally cum inside you! even with tha single thought he couldnt help but slam harder and harder- gripping your waist in a bruising point.

"Fuck.. i wanna have a child so bad.. will you give one for me pretty boy?"

You just absentmindedly nodded as he piston his hips forward to meet your ass.

"You're so cute.. such a good boy f'me"

He smiled lovingly, taking your hand and locking fingers with you.

Your squeals and moans made him go nearer to his climax, your wet cunt clenched around him as his tip kissed your cervix

Finally he came inside you filling your womb up, you went limp under him and you were so so full of his warm cum.

"You did so well for me sweet boy... I can't wait for my kids.."

#x bottom male reader #ftm reader #sub male reader #x ftm reader #bottom male reader #male x ftm reader #cod x male reader #yuushi x male reader #totsumoto yuushi x male reader

[daycourtofficial]

Amber eyes, looking into mine

Summary: Eris finds something in his study that triggers him into a frozen state of panic. Who better suited to pulling Eris from his past than his future?

Author’s note: I wrote this in under an hour so please be nice and if there are any typos, no there aren’t 💕 Also technically this is part of my gingerfucker series, but can be read alone and she doesn’t make an appearance, it’s all Eris and the baby okay byeee

TW: panic attack, mentions of being whipped and being burnt

Word count: ~1k

A trade agreement sat on his desk, one that predates his tenure as high lord. Eris had found the document stuffed away in a drawer, abandoning what he was searching for as soon as he recognized it.

His father’s large, obnoxious signature at the bottom, the ridiculously high tariffs on imported goods. He could hear the whip in his ears, feeling his body tense with memory.

It was all too much. He had spoken with his father about the deal, wanting to give incentives for traders to come into Autumn rather than deterrents. Beron had laughed at him, telling him that everything anyone needs can be found in Autumn.

The night hadn’t ended there.

Beron had whipped him for having such a ridiculous idea in front of the other courtiers.

“No son of mine will appear so idiotic before others,” he had said, his voice ringing in Eris’s ears. 

Eris was seated in his chair in his study, but his mind was elsewhere. Down deep, deep in the dungeons of the Forest House, a trek he made many nights, his blood dripping through the house as he limped back to his own chambers.

Chubby hands grip the fabric of his trousers, a body too small traveling up his legs, climbing for what they love most in this world. Little feet find their footing on his thighs, hands leaning against his torso to support their weight.

Amber eyes look at him, searching for praise at the impossible task they just completed. 

His eyes.

What his eyes used to look like, before Beron burnt the joy out of them.

Eris is frozen in place, caught in a spiral of hatred and loathing by his son. His beautiful, wonderfully funny son, who looks at him with the love and adoration his mother looks at him with.

If his son knew all that he had done to prevent Beton’s ire, would his eyes still look for Eris in every room? Would his eyes still fill with tears, his lungs exhaling every breath at bedtime, unable to sleep without seeing his father one last time?

The spitting image of him, his mother finding an old portrait of himself at this age, his son a direct image of the portrait. Was this how he looked when Beron began his tirade of cruelty against his family? Did soft coos of a babe turn into wails at any contact with Beron?

All he had ever known was the flame, the flame within himself that refused to be extinguished, and the flames his father tormented him with for centuries.

He feels those flames on his skin, his own flame desperate to fight it. He feels the heat licking up his forearms, he feels it cascading down his back in waves, searching for every inch of unclaimed skin. He clenches his fists, desperate to bring himself back to reality. Instead, his breathing becomes more ragged, his jaw clenching.

He can smell the flesh burning off of him, feel his stomach churning, his throat filling with bile at the smell, so strong he could taste it.

Tiny fingers grip into his hair, yanking lightly, trying to find balance. The feeling jolts him back, back from the past, back from a place that doesn’t exist anymore. 

The babe stands in his lap, toes gripping his trousers as he tries to learn how to use them. A warmth so unnatural from something so young radiates off of his son. A tear splashes onto the little foot, which the babe immediately burns off. 

Giggles fill the room at his show of his powers and Eris is finally able to move again as he wraps his arms around the young princeling, so unaware of how the world can burn.

He holds him in a tight embrace, squishing his face into the tiny neck, breathing him in. He gives himself five seconds, clutching the clothes covering the babe’s chest.

Five.

He breathes in deeply, his chest heaving with sobs that escape his mouth.

Four.

It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. It had never been fair. Nothing was fair.

Three.

It took hours to kill Beron, centuries of scheming, and his presence was still felt throughout the court, throughout him-

He feels something cold and wet on his neck, tiny hands still gripping his hair, but his son is slobbering across his neck, his cheek, the movement tickling Eris’s neck. He laughs as he realizes that his son is mimicking how they make him laugh by blowing raspberries into his neck, his cheeks, his stomach.

He delicately pulls the face from his neck, leaning his forehead against his firstborn’s forehead. His eyes are wide with wonder. Everything is new to him and the worst thing he’s experienced is dropping his favorite toy in a mud puddle.

He looks at his father, not sure what to make of him, until Eris slowly smiles at him, his eyes lightening with fondness, catching a bit of the spark from his son’s eyes.

And the baby in his arms smiles back, grabbing Eris’s nose in excitement as he babbles noncoherent sounds. Eris stretches his legs out, sinking into his chair a bit, letting his back relax into the chair. Eris responds to the babbling, occasional hums and responses to whatever he was trying to convey to his father. 

Someday, the words would come. They would flow freely, spilling from his mouth in anger, in sadness, in disbelief. They would come more easily, small things setting off his memories and not allowing him to think of anything until they left him. He would share the burden of his memories.

Someday, the words would come. But not today. Today the incoherent babbling was enough.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra fanfic #acotar fanfiction #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris x reader

[harunayuuka2060]

Vil: Would it possible to change your mind into liking me back if I tell you that I'm in love with you now?

MC: …

MC: I don't understand why you are asking me this, Vil.

Vil: It's a hypothetical question. Would you change your mind?

MC: …

MC: *smiles* You should know more than anyone, that I value commitment.

MC: I won't do anything to hurt Che'nya.

Vil: …

Vil: I see. He's lucky to have you.

MC: *chuckles* I honestly think it's the opposite.

Vil: …

Vil: Anyway, we will be having a trip overseas. You'll be away with him for a few months.

MC: Alright. I'll explain it to him. Is there anything else?

Vil: …

Vil: None for now.

Che'nya: Eh~ A few months? *sad frowns*

MC: Yes. I'm the one who assists Vil, so I have to go there with him.

Che'nya: *pouts*

MC: …

MC: I will call and message you often.

Che'nya: *pouts even more*

MC: …

MC: How about souvenirs?

Che'nya: *thinks* Hmm… No.

MC: …

MC: What is it? Just tell me.

Che'nya: Bring me with you. :3

MC: Not possible.

Che'nya: *whines* I can't believe you! You're just leaving your new boyfriend behind?

Che'nya: If it's already like this, I wonder what it'll be like when we get married?

MC: Che'nya-

Che'nya: I have needs, y'know?

MC: …

Che'nya: :3

MC: Should I stop taking you seriously?

Che'nya: Nooooo! But in all seriousness! At least pamper me before you leave~!

MC: …

MC: What kind of pampering?

Che'nya: :3

MC: Che'nya.

Che'nya: I promise not to leave marks! Or at least not that many. :3

MC: …

Vil: Why are you covered up?

MC: *has hickeys around their neck because of Che'nya* I'm cold.

Vil: ...

Vil: *doesn't want to ask further*

Vil: Anyway, you should know that we will be sharing a hotel room.

MC: Huh?

Vil: Dad made a mistake in booking the rooms.

Vil: Don't worry. It's a suite.

MC: ...

MC: I see. However, will you be comfortable sharing a space?

Vil: Yes. *smirks* Didn't we use to sleep in the same bed together when we were younger?

MC: I'm sure I always end up on the floor.

Vil: That's because you liked to move around.

Vil and MC: *chuckles at the memory*

Vil: ...

Vil: Let's enjoy this trip together, MC.

MC: *smiles at him* Yes.

Vil: *is clear to him... that MC is smiling to him as his dear friend and not someone who is in love with him*

Vil: ...

Vil: How the tables have turned.

MC: Hm? What did you say, Vil?

Vil: It's nothing. Let's go.

Vil and MC: *after arriving to the "suite"*

Vil: ...

Vil: It's a honeymoon suite.

MC: ...

MC: I'm calling the front desk.

The front desk: We are very sorry, but it's the only available room we have...

MC: Don't you have other options?

The front desk: Are you two not a couple?

MC: No. I'm his personal attendant.

The front desk: ...

The front desk: You can stay in our staff room-

MC: Okay. I'll do that-

Vil: Forget it. You're not sleeping elsewhere, MC, when you are a guest too.

MC: But Vil-

Vil: I said forget it.

MC: ...

MC: *to the receptionist* Are there no other hotels we could stay at?

The front desk: At this time of the year, hotels are mostly fully booked, but I'll do my best to get you a reservation.

MC: *smiles* Thank you.

The front desk: I deeply apologize for the inconvenience.

Vil: ...

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst chenya #twst vil #twst vil and mc series 1

[imaginesforeons]

ohhh a crumb of yandere gojo PLEASE 😩

Omg so sorry for disappearing. I suddenly had an onset of health problems that got so bad I even had to go into emergency surgery. I'm better now though! Requests for my page are now CLOSED, though I will be answering all the people who already asked me when they were open. But no guarantees with how fast lmao.

One more thing, what do you guys think about me taking commissions? I feel like I'd be able to, and there's enough stuff on my page for people to know what they'd be getting. Let me know in the comments or DM me.

Yandere!Gojo x Reader with an unknown, powerful jujutsu

~Something snaps inside you, primal and unknown. Unfortunately, you aren't the only one that witnesses this~

CW: Past kidnapping. Yandere Gojo, but he's actually super chill compared to his usual self lmao.

WC: 1149

Buy me a coffee?

.-.-.

“C’mon, just a little bit. You can trust me, can’t you?”

A muscled arm wrapped around your waist, dragging your stiffening body closer. Blue eyes peered at you from over black sunglasses, shining with mirth.

“I really can’t do it, Gojo, I swear. Please, just let me go.”

You leaned as far away from him as possible, which, from your position on the couch, wasn’t very far at all. The man had you literally and metaphorically cornered, squished into the corner of the sofa with his hand firmly on your hip. You tried to ignore his fingers, idly tapping an unknown rhythm against your skin, but you felt each digit like a brand. Squirming, you tried to edge away, just a few inches so you weren’t pressed flush against his side. Gojo only grinned, flashing impossibly white teeth at you as his hand flexed, pulling you in until you were practically in his lap. You froze.

His smile only grew bigger. “I think we both know that’s a lie. Hell, the missing person case speaks for itself.”

You felt your stomach drop. The missing person case. The missing person case you had caused. Just yesterday, your life had been achingly normal, something you now craved. It was your day off, and you decided to use the time to catch up on errands. When it happened, you were at a bank depositing a check when, out of nowhere, a creature had risen smoothly out of the ground like it was water, not the rock solid masonry that the bank was made of. You had only gaped uselessly, staring at the thing that had too many limbs and eyes that were more human than beast as it loomed over you. No one else seemed to notice, except for a single man. He was nondescript, with dark hair, plain features, and a grey suit that made his complexion more sallow than it really was. You thought he was an employee. Thought.

When he saw you staring, he snarled a short command at the monster, then he and it both dove at you. That was when everything broke out into pandemonium. All at once, an alarm was set off, people started screaming, and the skylight above you and the man shattered, raining stained glass down around you and your attackers. You thought it was a robbery. If only it was that simple.

Screaming, all you could do was throw your arms up and wait for impact, but nothing came. Finally, you dared to lower your arms, only to be met with a man with shockingly white hair. Amongst all the panicking bankers and customers, he was the eye of the storm; calm, still. Then, slowly, he pulled up part of the bandages covering his eyes, revealing one. When you saw it, you gasped. He grinned at your reaction, a boyish type of smile that in any other situation would have made your heart flutter, but the hunger behind it instead made your stomach drop.

Before you could blink, he had you wrapped in his arms, their strength like that of a steel trap. The last thing you heard before everything went black was, you would later find out, his voice.

“Well, isn’t this interesting?”

You had woken up in those same arms, and when you realized you started to cry, inconsolable even as your kidnapper gently shushed you.

You whimpered at the memory, at the thought of the man at the bank who, yes, may have tried to attack you, but he was still a person. He was still missing. Missing because of you, if Gojo was to be believed.

“I- I didn’t mean to,” you stuttered. “I had never even met him before then. Why would I want to hurt-”

“Sato Isamo,” Gojo interrupted, waving his hand. “The salaryman turned curse-user after power was promised to him, yada yada. Same old shit. He doesn’t matter, I would’ve offed him if you hadn’t gotten to him first-” you felt your stomach drop at such deadly words said so casually “-what really matters is you.”

Suddenly, his hands were holding your face, so big that they almost wrapped around the entirety of your skull. His eyes bore into yours, and even though every instinct in you screamed to look away, you couldn’t, prey caught in the stare of the predator.

“You did something amazing back there.” Gojo’s eyes were glowing, lit by something deep and primal inside him. “Not even I can disappear a man in the blink of an eye without any effort, but you did. You wiped him off the face of the fuckin’ earth to somewhere even my six eyes can’t see, and I want to see you do it again.”

A thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek. It took all you had not to shiver.

“I never thought I was a patient man until I saw you. We’ll wait as long as it takes, but you’ll never escape me until I get to see your technique again.”

He was insane, you thought. Nothing else could explain the glazed look on his face or the way his body trembled finely against yours. This man was more dangerous to you than that monster at the bank ever was.

“And after that you’ll let me go?” you asked. Begged was more accurate, with the way your voice cracked over the last word.

For just a split second, his eyes changed, shifting from blue summer sky to deep ocean depths. “We’ll see,” was all he said, then his eyes flickered back to their radiant glow. “But until then, I’m not letting you out of my sight. We’ll go to the Asahikawa estate, you’ll love it.”

For a moment, you thought your hearing had failed you. “W-what,” you were barely able to stammer out. “But that’s miles away. I have a job here. A family.”

Gojo only shrugged. “People like them don’t matter. You’re better off sticking with your own kind.” He winked down at you. “Like me, for example.”

You could only stare at him, mouth agape. Gojo only smiled back at you, and it was all you could do not to scream. Instead, you did the next best thing, diving wildly from his grasp. Behind you, you heard a delighted laugh before arms that were already starting to feel familiar wrapped around your waist.

You shrieked, thrashing, but all Gojo did was scoop you up, holding you to his chest like some sort of disobedient pet. Nothing you did broke his hold, so finally, after fighting out all your energy, you could only slump against him in a panting, sweaty mess. The white haired man smiled down at you, and that was when you finally broke, tears leaking from your eyes as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“We’ll figure this out, no matter how long it takes,” he said. “Together.”

#jjk imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen x reader #imagines #yandere #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru

[e-hibiscus]

bassist!arle 😼 she brings you to all the practices of her garage band.

she wants you to tell her how awesome she is, how she could be famous, etc.

and then she wants to 69 with you so she can make you deepthroat her while she eats you out (so you can feel her piercings) in the backseat of her old, beat up car.

thoughts? 😁😁😁

I have so many thoughts about 2000’s bassist!arle, and it's all your fault 🤬 /pos

I hc that the band is made up of the fatui members 😭 and they all are pretty chill with having you around. You’re basically the +1 who they all get along with, even if you might seem like you’d “fit in”.

ie. You’re more cheery, colorful, and sweet

Nsfw. utc

Arlecchino plays out of her garage, and she’s spiced up the space accordingly. It’s been turned into a hybrid studio and mancave for her and her band. Arle and her band spend a lot of time there, and that includes you too. You’re always seen with Arle during her practices, even if you don’t play anything yourself.

You’re there for support, and Arlecchino is very happy having you with her. Whenever they’re not playing, you’re sitting on her lap. It’s the only seat she’s allowing her girlfriend to sit on. Couches, chairs, the floor it doesn’t matter. Arle is patting her thigh and making you take a seat right where she wants you to. It’s so she can keep you close; maintaining physical contact in an “acceptable (cool) ” way. She’s an absolute sucker for affection, even if she won’t ever admit it.

That being said, telling her how good she is and how her skills can lead to a future. It strokes her ego in a good way. The fact YOU believe her skills as a bassist is exceptional makes her heart swell with pride and joy. The small smile tugging at her lips gives away how she feels, especially since Arle isn’t the most expressive person. It makes her really happy when you do.

During performances and gigs, Arlecchino is often looking at you. Seeing you in the crowd gives her so much energy and life– it gets her all fired up. Arle absolutely loves hearing you cheer for her; always her eyes seek you out in the crowd. Sometimes she gets to overhear you talking about her with other people. Your sweet words and demeanor when chatting about her and her music makes Arlecchino’s heart flutter. Arlecchino can practically hear the smile on your lips when you go on about her.

One of her fondest memories came from you asking the town’s local tavern/bar if Arle and her band could play there one evening. You did this as a surprise, having everything approved for them. You didn’t have to go out of your way and organize a gig, but the fact you’ve tried helping Arle start playing professionally has her head over heels for you. This was when she realized she’s going to put a ring on your finger one day. Having you support her biggest passion is a huge reason she continues playing 🥺

In the early morning after her that one gig at the bar, Arle and you leave together. She ends up fucking you in the empty parkinglot; in the backseat of her car. She’s gonna show you just how much she loves and appreciates you by dumping several loads in and on you; with protection of course. Arle’s eagerly rutting her hips into you. Since there isn’t much room, Arle has no choice but to fuck you well and deep; all while marking your neck and whispering sweet words into your ear. She isn’t going to stop until you’re clawing at her back and squirting around her cock. She’s making you feel so good, and your whimpers and moans fueling her desire for more.

More thoughts for car sex with Arle…😳Ya’ll actually fuck in her car quite a bit. This woman keeps condoms in her glove compartment just for you and water bottles are in the trunk too so the two of you can stay hydrated 🤭 This woman comes prepared with almost everything to have a good time with you

Anyway, being the romantic she is, Arlecchino takes you to scenic viewpoints for dates and stuff. Sometimes it ends with you giving her head or having sex in the back with music playing in the car.

Aris 😭😔 i honestly can write an entire fic about arle and a tongue piercing, so I’ll save it for a another post, but I’ll have you know her tongue game is insane. She’s watching your every reaction to the cool metal while she circles your clit and drives her fingers into your eagerly awaiting pussy. I fucking love this woman 😭 2000’s bassist Arle is SO GOOD ilysm for adding this to my brain

#💭.hibiscus rambles #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino smut

[aphroditelovesu]

Yan!Alexander the Great w/ Soldier's Pregnant Widow!Reader

❝ 📜 — lady l: this is a commission that I was very happy to do! I'm sorry for the delay, I confess that I had forgotten this in my drafts and only remembered it after reading your messagem, anon! I hope you enjoy it and, as requested, it is more based on Alexander's feelings for the Reader. Forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: mention of death, mourning. pregnancy and fluff.

❝📜pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader.

You were the wife of one of Alexander's cavalry soldiers who, unlike many other soldiers' wives, decided to accompany him to war. You loved your husband deeply and did not want to be separated from him.

Your husband also loved you deeply. He wasn't a general or a high-ranking officer, but your husband tried to make you as comfortable as possible in this violent environment. He was loyal to you, something rare but one you appreciated. You loved him with everything in you.

Until the day you lost him. During the Battle of Granicus, your husband died in battle and your world collapsed. You had lost the man you loved and it felt like an endless road. Alexander, being the beloved King that he was, buried the dead soldiers with the necessary honors and spoke to the wives present in the camp. And one of them was you.

Alexander was immediately enchanted by you. He was surprised at how you handled your grief, clearly you loved your husband very much and the pain of the loss you felt captivated him. He didn't take long to approach you subtly at first.

Alexander was kind and protective, offering his condolences and staying by your side. His words were kind and his discreet smiles were reserved just for you. More observant people didn't take long to notice the King's interest in you, but they never dared to say anything, not when they knew his temperament.

You found yourself lost in a sea of pain and sadness, unable to find comfort in anything around you. Alexander's comforting presence was like an anchor in the midst of the storm, offering support and compassion in such a dark time. He understood your pain as he had also lost soldiers close to him.

Alexander felt compelled to protect and care for you, not only out of gratitude for your husband's sacrifice, but also because he genuinely cared for you. His discreet smiles and kind gestures were an attempt to ease your pain, to be a ray of light amid the darkness you faced.

Although you fought your feelings, you found yourself enjoying the King's presence. But you soon discovered that you were pregnant by your late husband and you decided to focus on honoring your husband's memory and focusing on the baby growing inside you.

Alexander didn't like it at all when you tried to move away from him but he soon understood why. He wasn't angry or anything, but surprised and slightly bothered. You would have a child, something he wanted, but it wouldn't be with him. He couldn't blame you, though, it wasn't your fault.

As time passed, your belly grew and the pain of loss lessened, you found yourself more and more involved in the camp's activities, keeping yourself busy to keep away the thoughts that haunted you at night. And you found yourself increasingly close to Alexander, who made his feelings for you very clear.

He respected the fact that you weren't ready to get married due to the fact that you were pregnant, he could wait until the baby was born. But he wasn't far from you, spending his free time by your side while also taking care of you. You owned your own tent and personal effects, along with those of your late husband.

In time, your husband's child was born, and you held it in your arms with love and sadness. It was a part of him you would carry forever, a living reminder of the man you loved so much. Alexander was present and he acted as if your child were his. He didn't even like it when people mentioned it wasn't his.

You were his and your baby was his too. Alexander was skeptical about it at first but he warmed up to the idea. The mourning period is over and your child has been born, now it is time for you to become his wife and have children of his own.

#history #yandere history #yandere historical characters #alexander the great x reader #yandere alexander the great x reader #yandere alexander the great #yandere headcanons #headcanons #soft yandere #commission #x reader

[artofvisualshock]

Messages from the GazettE to the fans (Google translations)

〈 RUKI 〉

At the end, he said, "I want the GazettE to be forever." I think what he meant by "forever" was that he hoped that the amazing scenes he saw from the stage in 2023 would continue forever.

The scenes he saw with his fans, the happy faces of his fans, and the scenes where we all sang together were treasures that could not be replaced by anything else, and I think he hoped that moment would continue forever.

I remember him saying that he wanted to perform live soon.

Even now that he's grown up, he was a kind and passionate man who can honestly say, "Even if something bad happens, it's the most fun when we get together like this and laugh with the band members."

I loved that honesty.

This year was no different, and every year on our birthdays we would jokingly tell each other to take care of our health.

The band will never be a four-man band.

No matter what anyone says.

Because you're the only bassist we have.

Because I believe that my soul is always beside me to the right.

I'm sure everyone can feel it, even if they can't see it.

The proof that Reita has built up in the GazettE so far will not disappear and will definitely live on.

I believe that, so I will continue to sing beside him so that his soul can be right beside me.

I will not become the GazettE that Reita hates.

I don't want to make him sad.

Although all humans live in a finite life, I believe that souls never disappear.

Reita's soul, the members, myself, and the fans.

I want to continue to perform live shows that make all the people who loved me want to come back to the stage forever, even after they have become souls.

So it is only with each and every one of our fans that we can create the scenery that we hoped he would be eternal.

That's why I want him to stay by my side and be there, unchanged from now on.

He should look at me and smile, and think, "He was the best guy!", rather than looking at me with a sad face.

We are more determined than ever to protect this band.

We will make Reita's wish for eternity come true.

So, Reita, rest assured that you can come to every live show from heaven.

Your seat will always be there.

You're going to be super busy from now on.

I'll contact you again when the schedule is decided.

-----------------

<Uruha>

To all the fans who have supported REITA up until now.

I think he was a huge support for everyone, and for me.

I myself have not been able to accept and realize the fact that he is no longer here and that we can no longer stand on stage together.

There may be many things that I will come to understand little by little from now on.

However, if I continue to be drowning in sadness, I will not be able to make his wish for eternity come true, and I strongly feel that now is the time for me to have the strength to look forward and move forward.

I also think that the path we walked together until now was irreplaceable for him, and I think it will continue to live in the hearts of everyone and myself.

He gave us so much, and we walked together for so long, and he is still and will always be our best friend.

Please treasure all the words, memories, and love he left behind in your heart.

REITA will continue to exist and live in everyone's hearts.

We would like to express our sincere gratitude to everyone who has supported and cheered on the GazettE REITA.

-----------------

〈 Aoi 〉

For a long time, the members and a small staff have been working on various projects, saying "this and that," but writing this letter was the last thing I wanted to do.

There have been moments when I felt like giving up on my dreams.

Every time, we talked about it again and again, sometimes pushing each other, and pulling the members' arms so that they wouldn't give up.

Because we were such a band, the GazettE has been able to keep moving forward without stopping.

REITA, you're not the one who wishes for eternity, you're the one who connects eternity.

I can't say something clever like "I'll take care of you."

I wanted to make more music with you, and see more scenery together.

Every scenery is wonderful because we see it with the five of us, surrounded by our fans.

I don't know why, but it's so painful that I can't make it happen even though I have so many things I want to say.

When I get there, I'm going to start with a big lecture. I know it's lonely because we're gone so suddenly, but please take a rest until then.

I have a few more things to do here.

Thank you for walking this long road with me. Rest in peace.

-----------------

〈 Kai 〉

For me, REITA is an immeasurably big presence, saved by his many words and sounds, the mood maker for the band, and all I remember are really fun things, and above all, the sight of him shining on stage.

He is the best partner and the only one in the rhythm section.

That has never changed, and will never change in the future.

I want to continue carrying his feelings and continue with the GazettE with even greater resolve.

Finally, to all the fans and people involved who have supported us for the past 22 years.

Thank you very much.

And from now on, our feelings will remain the same and we would like to continue running as a group of five, so please continue to support us.

REITA

Thank you for all your hard work.

With the same feelings, we will continue to protect the GazettE together with our many friends... I promise.

There are many friends out there who don't want your 22 years to go to waste, and they are waiting for you.

You must come to our shows too!

Let's have some good sake again.

#the gazette #reita #rip #uruha #ruki #aoi #kai

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hii sweetie, how are you? Are requests open rn? I'm soooo sorry if they arent and i'm botherig you, but can i make a sugestion please? How would batboys (including bruce if possible) would "react" to missing you while on a mission? And maybe in the end the reenconter? Just an idea❤️

I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long to write this and I hope that it’s everything you want and more.

Dick; sits and sulks as he stares at his phone.

I’m joking…or am I?

He’d be mentally counting away the hours before he came back home to you once more. He tries to act professional and keep a level head seeing as how leaders aren’t meant to have room for errors, he’s learnt that the hard way many times. But he can’t help but yearn to be in your arms and fall into the deepest sleep ever knowing that you were close by and above all safe.

He would use this as motivation to get through the long, long night of patrol in hopes of making time take pity on him and go just that little bit faster, just for his selfish convenience. He just so desperately wants to see you and Hayley cuddled up together on your shared bed, or watching a movie together if you were still awake this late at night. You held a piece of his heart without even knowing it.

So when he feels the patrol come to an end, he’s gleefully beating the piss out of the goons he’s come across with a smile across his face. It’s borderline terrifying image that will forever remain burnt into the deepest parts of his teammates memory for a good long while.

The minute Dick came home and you so happened to be waiting for him, he was already scooping you into his arms and holding you close to his chest as he buried his head into your neck.

‘I missed you.’ He murmurs.

‘I’m pretty sure that’s my line you’ve just stolen.’ You joked as you ran your hand through his dark hair, relived in seeing him home safe and unharmed.

‘Well it’s my line now because I really did miss you,’ Dick said, tightening his hold on you, ‘you we’re all I thought about tonight and how much I wanted to come home and be where I want to be most, in your arms.’ He adds tired and you couldn’t help but coo softly at him.

‘Aww Dickie bird.’ You began. ‘You sound about ready for some much needed sleep.’

Dick lets out a deep sigh as he practically slumps against you. ‘That sounds like a good idea. Is Hayley in bed?’

‘Yes.’ You answered, rubbing his back soothingly.

‘Her bed or ours?’ Dick asks.

‘Do you even need to ask?’ You reply with a chuckle and from that alone did Dick get his answer.

Jason; he’s a little impatient with having to wait to come back home to you, so much so that it tends to end with him brutalising his adversaries more then usual.

Whoops.

He doesn’t apologise at all.

He was so use to coming home to a empty apartment after patrol that long nights like these never use to bother Jason, as it often meant he had something else to do other then stare up at his ceiling, waiting for sleep to catch up to him. Now that he had you however, all Jason wants to do was come home as soon as possible just to catch a glimpse of your sleeping figure on his -now your- bed.

He’s grown addicted to being at your side no matter what that being apart from you for prolonged periods of time made Jason feel hollow, as though he was missing a vital part of himself somewhere and that vital part was you.

So when he gets home he’s already dropped his helmet off somewhere and kneeling before you as you held his face in your hands and groaning as he presses his face further into your hands.

‘I’ve missed you so much tonight chipmunk.’ He admits.

‘I’ve missed you too jay bird.’ You replied, pressing a kiss to his nose, squealing when he stole a quick peck from your lips as you smacked his bicep shortly after. ‘Someone’s feeling particularly loving tonight.’ You add.

Jason groans as he looks up at you with his pretty, pretty eyes that never fail to take your breath away. The mere image alone of this six foot something man kneeling before you was enough to make you feel like the most powerful being in existence. ‘Is it blasphemy for a man to show his partner how much he’s missed them now?’ He asks and you couldn’t help but laugh as you pressed another kiss to his nose, pulling away enough to see him smile dopily at your kiss.

‘No, but it would be great to be warmed ahead of time before you try to steal another kiss.’ You said and Jason smirks. ‘So you’re telling me there is going to be a next time?’ He says teasingly.

‘Don’t let it go to your head hotshot.’ You reply, grabbing one of his hands and pulling him towards the bedroom.

‘I think I already have sweetheart.’ Jason says with a smile, happy to be home.

Bruce: keeps tabs on you during patrol whilst also remaining vigilant and dedicated to the task at hand.

Bruce was a master at multitasking.

He would always make sure you were safe and decried whenever he got a couple minutes to breathe on his own. He even has a special alert made for you in the instance where you were in danger walking home.

He even finds himself looking at shops you’ve told him about going to, but never doing so due to scheduling conflicts and making a mental note to take you there as a treat to spoil you rotten.

Bruce had more experience in neglecting his own wants and needs for the betterment of Gotham and everyone living in it. So while he may miss you dearly, he knew that his dedication to bettering Gotham’s crime rate one villain, underground drug syndicate, crime lord at a time outweighed that greatly.

So the moment he comes home to you he smiles softly as he allows you to remove the cowl from his head, gently place it down elsewhere, before moving on to wiping the black makeup clean from his eyes.

Bruce knows he could easily done it himself but much rather prefers it if you were the one to do it instead, as it often allows him to have a moment alone with you. No interruptions nor distractions could make him break his gaze away from yours.

‘You’re doing Gotham a whole lot of good Bruce.’ You tell him as you finished wiping off the last of his eye makeup that he puts on under the cowl. ‘ Not many people would be willing to try to keep a dying city alive. Im so proud of you for doing the unthinkable.’ You add as you press a kiss to his cheek.

‘Someone’s got to shoulder the responsibility of this town and I’m more than willing to shoulder that responsibility everyone else who can’t.’ Bruce replies as he takes your hands in his own, kissing the backs of them as his thumbs caressed each of your knuckles. ‘But coming home to you reminds me I’m not alone in this endeavour and I don’t know how to thank you enough for standing by me.’

You smile. ‘You don’t need to thank me at all, just take care of yourself alright? We don’t want the Dark Knight running on fumes now when he’s just getting started.’

Damian: naturally goes by his father’s example and remains focused on the task at hand.

He was trained for long nights like these but you’ve become somewhat of a problem during them.

Damian had often found himself sat on a rooftop somewhere, looking down at two people enjoying the other’s company, and immeditly starts to imagine that it was him and you instead.

He hates how easily his mind drifted towards you during patrol with his father or his other siblings but he just can’t help it but crave for your presence. It makes him feel weak and vulnerable but ironically he doesn’t hate it as much as he probably should’ve. He’s even found himself wanting to count stars with you at one point during patrol until he got him act together to take down a few goons.

He doesn’t admit this to anyone as he’s already felt embarrassed enough that he didn’t needed to be embarrassed even further by the miscreants he’s made to called his family. For he knew they’d never let him live it down for being so caught up on you, they’d called him everything their small minds can come up with for the sake of teasing their younger brother.

So when he comes back to you, he doesn’t say anything other than hugging you uncharacteristically tight against his chest.

‘Someone’s missed me.’ You joked but when Damian didn’t say anything but tighten his grip on you and huff did you change your tune. ‘Oh you did. If it’s any consolation I missed you too.’ You add as you both stayed there in each others arms.

‘Just…hold me will you…please.’ He said softly as he sunk further into your embraced and he closed his eyes, secretly happy to be back home with you.

‘I’m fine with that.’ You replied as you concede to his wishes, just happy to see him home in one piece.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc comics x reader #dc x y/n #dc fanfiction #jason todd imagines #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson fluff #damian wayne x you #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagines #damian wayne fluff #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #Bruce Wayne imagines #nightwing x you #nightwing fluff

[b14augrana]

Write for Ona Batlle please 🙏🏼

ona appreciation hour 😈 i loved writing this one , lmk if anyone wants a pt. 2 !!

‘Te Espero’ — Ona Batlle

Summary: You and Ona have been best friends since you could talk. After having to play against her and Manchester United, you bump into each other in the changing rooms.

Warnings: Some angst because it’s about damn time

A/N: Ona skips Levante and goes straight to Man Utd. in this fic , this isn’t proofread because I’m too lazy so ignore every error thanks x

Your childhood memories came in vague little snippets, like a broken film reel. You could remember that one afternoon you spent sitting on the curb, your popsicle dripping into your lap as you ate it with your best friend, but you couldn’t remember when you learned to ride a bike.

You remembered the little things that gave you happiness but didn’t really matter. Something that stuck with you consistently and made those little things a bit more memorable was your best friend, Ona.

When you had to leave your hometown and move to Barcelona in order to develop as a footballer in La Masia, Ona was there with you, fulfilling the same dream. She grew up with you, supported you endlessly, and knew everything about you.

Well, not quite everything.

You were very open with her. She knew how to read your emotions like a book and somehow she had the perfect response to them every time. When you were nervous, it was holding your hand and rubbing the top with her thumb. When you were angry, it was squeezing your wrist gently.

However, the one thing it seemed she couldn’t read was love. You were hopelessly in love with her against your will. You never wanted to be, not because she was a bad person to be in love with, but because you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you two had.

You only began to pay attention to the signs when you were a teenager. Seeing her everyday at training started to provoke a funny feeling in your stomach, even though it was a daily occurrence. Despite your best efforts to ignore your emotions for the sake of football and your friendship, you couldn’t help but let it keep you up at night.

When you two entered your senior careers though, things changed. You went on to play for Barcelona Femeni’s first team, whereas she decided to play for an entirely different club, in an entirely different league. When she told you she was transferring to Manchester United, you wanted to beg her to stay, tell her that Barcelona was where she belonged, but the excited look on her face wouldn’t allow that. Instead, you said, “Oh my God, Ona! I’m so happy for you!” and pulled her into the tightest hug you could muster.

“Estoy muy emocionado, (Y/N),” she exclaimed, sitting down on one of the beds in your shared dorm in the academy complex. You hated that deep down, you weren’t as excited as you seemed because she was slipping away. You didn't want to be selfish and hold her back, so you let her go. It was the biggest regret of your life.

As you pursued your career at Barcelona, you couldn't help but find yourself staying up a couple hours after your recommended bedtime to watch a Manchester United match, just to see her, just to jog your memory and make sure you would still be able to remember that smile for years to come. And on the not-so-rare occasion when Aitana would walk in on you in your shared apartment complex and explain that the light was on, you'd say that you were just analysing the game, and she would shake her head the same way she always did when she knew you were lying and say, ¨Sé que la ecas de menos. Yo también.¨

Aitana was the only person you had opened up to about your feelings for Ona. It's not like you were ashamed, but you had known her for many years since you joined La Masia, and she knew you almost as well as Ona. She also missed Ona, but she knew that it was in a different way. It wasn't as deep and akin to grief like you. The poets do say, 'What is grief if not love persevering?' You had hopeless faith in the idea that she would come home. Not home to Barcelona, but home to you, and that's what hurt most.

Season after season and match after match without your left-back proved to be easier as time passed. You were far from over it, but you were coping. As much as you would’ve liked to move to Manchester, Barcelona was your girlhood club. You couldn’t ever imagine leaving, and you wanted to win everything you could with them and retire there… hence why the upcoming UEFA Women’s Champions League was such a big deal for you.

The last few UWCL campaigns for Barcelona didn’t consist of you. In fact, you made the decision to not participate in the squad. It wasn’t management issues or injury, it was just the desire to get as good as you possibly could and prepare for the future, so when you eventually did participate in the UWCL, you would be at your best.

It also gave you an opportunity to collect yourself and relearn how to focus and get back into the flow state that you depended on when playing football. You felt like you didn’t have much control or focus at all since Ona left, which left your mind clouded and your heart heavy. The headlines depicted you as out of form, some of them even resorted to suspecting you of having an injury. You wished it was that simple.

Over the many months your team spent competing in foreign countries and battling it out for the title, you were putting back the pieces of the footballer you once were and temporarily discarding your feelings to prioritise your career. You wanted to lift that trophy more than anything, and it was that burning desire that gave you the strength to move past Ona, at least while it mattered.

From then on, the tournament consumed your life and your schedule. Ona — who still remained as a thought in the back of your mind — barely existed in your head during that period, except for when you were left alone in your hotel room, staring up at the ceiling at an ungodly hour, left with the scariest thing there could be; your own thoughts.

The knockout stages of the UWCL were right around the corner. Eindhoven had treated you well up until now and you were in awe of the Netherlands — even though you had only seen a small bit of the country. The match draws hadn’t yet been announced so you spent most of your time in coffee shops and scenic hikes if you weren’t training. Frido, Ingrid, and Aitana accompanied you the most around town.

When the day of the draws finally came, you and your teammates huddled around the television in Patri’s hotel room. Chelsea vs Rosengård, PSG vs Bayern München, Real Madrid vs Wolfsburg and finally…

Your heart sunk.

Barcelona vs Manchester United.

Aitana’s gaze shifted to you almost immediately. It only took her one glance at your pale-faced expression to know that you weren’t prepared for that draw.

It only lasted a second though, because suddenly you cheered. Everyone else around you was celebrating, and you had dreamt of that moment for so long, it was only suitable. Deep down inside, you were actually excited to come up against Ona. Your team had a winning mentality and you weren’t going to ruin that by getting caught up in your own feelings so yes, you were excited.

You trained day after day in preparation for the first leg of the match and when you finally sunk into bed, you opened Instagram to see your page flooded with news about the fixtures.

‘UEFA Women’s Champions League fixtures: FC Barcelona vs. Manchester United, what to expect from both teams.

Based on both teams’ recent campaigns, it’s easy to tell who has the upper hand in terms of experience and overall performance, and that is Barcelona. They have made it to the knockout stages of the UEFA Women’s Champions League 3 consecutive times, whereas Manchester United haven’t had as much luck.

The big question everyone seems to be asking is, how will these teams line up? Will we finally be able to see (Y/N) (Y/L/N) make her Champions League debut, or will she sit out of the tournament once again?’

You paused and took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the rest of the article. ‘Will she sit out of the tournament once again?’ That annoyed you. You sat out for a reason, you just couldn’t say. It’s not like it was anybody’s business; the world didn’t need to know that the reason was in the other team.

‘…What we do know for certain is that Ona Batlle, Manchester United’s star left-back, will be making an appearance in the starting XI, as said by Marc Skinner, the manager of the women’s team. Batlle emerged from Barcelona’s youth academy and made her senior debut at Manchester United 3 seasons ago, so the upcoming first leg of the semi finals may bring back some memories. Manchester United will use a 4-3-3 false 9 formation for the first leg —”

You switched off your phone and exhaled sharply, grumbling to yourself. Fucking journalists and their nerve. You had better things to do during the group stages, the whole point of you not playing was to get better so you could play in one of the most important stages!

“I need sleep,” you mumbled, turning over and putting your phone on the bedside table. Within moments of shutting your eyes, you were asleep. It didn’t feel like long before you were woken up and forced to go through the same mundane day all over again.

Friday, 7:00 PM. You had no time to register what was happening until you were already in the walkway, shaking out your limbs and the hands of the other team as you lined up. A quick glance over your shoulder alerted you that Ona was all the way at the back of her line, shaking the hand of Irene and conversing with her international teammate.

The stadium was loud. Deafening, even. You could vaguely hear the Barcelona chant being sung and from whatever little vision of the stands you had from the walkway, you could see the famous blaugrana colours everywhere. The atmosphere gave you chills.

When the match officials gave both teams the signal, they filed out of the walkway. The sound of the fans and the music blaring on the speakers rang in your ears ten times louder, and as you walked beneath that archway, everything settled in.

Your team sung your chant, tears threatening to spill from your waterline, proud tears. You watched Sandra hand the banner over to the Manchester United captain and then the handshakes commenced, proceeding down the line of players.

When your hand reached Ona’s, you held it for a bit longer. Her skin was soft, her fingers slender. Your eyes were fixed on your hands until your gaze lifted and met hers; brown eyes staring at you, her lips barely curved upwards. They held a look of uncertainty that made you pull away and hurriedly shake the hand of the next woman in line.

Your squad took their positions on the pitch, and you went to the midfield, awaiting kickoff. You had made the starting XI, and it felt amazing to be back, bossing the midfield alongside Aitana. The whistle blew as loud as ever, and Alexia kicked the ball straight down the middle, landing at your feet. From there, it was all instinctual; it felt like your mind was a spirit of its own as it directed your feet.

Perhaps it wasn’t your mind, but your emotions driving your movements. Maybe it was those waves of sadness that moved your feet and the nostalgia that put your body in front of the ball. Maybe it was simply her presence that made you feel like you had something to prove and everything to lose.

When the whistle was blown 30 minutes into the match and you looked at where the commotion was coming from to see Ona springing up from the ground, arguing with Claudia, you jolted forwards to intervene but a firm grip on your arm tugging you backwards told you to do otherwise. You turned to look at Aitana with furrowed eyebrows, and she shook her head as she muttered, “Déjalo así, no interfieras.”

It was a back and forth match of goals and lobbed balls, and you felt an involuntary wave of relief and happiness when the final whistle blew and the stands erupted in cheers; you had beaten Manchester United 5-2.

Everyone jumped into a group hug, one on top of the other, with Aitana and Claudia flying on top. You happily joined in and celebrated your victory — your cheeks had never hurt more. The lap around the field felt like a millennial as you greeted fans, took photos, signed merchandise and answered questions.

When you finally ventured into the locker rooms, you let out an exasperated sigh as you rolled down your socks and took off your boots. You were thankful for the thinking that led you to packing sandals, and you slipped them on quickly.

The changing room was almost deserted and your conclusion was that everyone hadn’t made it back yet because they were still in the stadium. Alexia and Patri’s bags were stacked on top of each other in the corner and one of Ingrid’s slides was on the other side of the room; thankfully, they hadn’t left.

You sighed and leaned against the wall, processing the events of the match and mulling over every little mistake you had fretted about when at the end, they didn’t matter. You lazily squeezed some water into your mouth and let the bottle clatter onto the bench and out of your hand, and you stayed in your motionless position.

After ages of nobody returning to the changing rooms, you got suspicious and stood up. First you raised your eyebrow, and then you checked your phone to see if you missed any phone calls or texts. Nothing.

You walked towards the door, and you were about to peer around the corner when suddenly you collided with someone else. You expected it to be someone like Aitana or Alexia, but when you saw that it was neither of them, your eyes widened in surprise.

Right there, in front of you, was Ona.

Her bambi eyes were glazed over with tears, her cheeks were damp and flushed pink, her lips were parted and slightly puffy. She looked up at you and then behind you, suddenly realising she was about to stumble into the wrong changing room.

“Lo siento, wrong changing room–” she started, about to turn away, but you reached out for her.

“No, no. Stay with me. Nobody is here,” you replied, beckoning to the empty room. She didn’t move from her spot in the doorway, she didn’t take another step forward or turn away.

When sobs started to erupt from her mouth, you thought something was seriously wrong, which compelled you to bring her into your embrace. Her tears dampened your jersey as she rested her cheek on your shoulder.

“Has jugado tan bien, como siempre,” she said. You rubbed her back gently as you spoke, “Tú también. Manchester te ha estado enseñando bien, ya veo.” She laughed, and it was music to your ears hearing that melodious laugh again.

“I wish we had won today, but we had no chance,” Ona whispered.

There was a short period of silence and the only noises were your synced breaths and her quiet sniffles.

“Come back to Barça, Ona. Come home,” you finally responded. “I miss you while you’re in Manchester. I don’t like that.” She pulled away to look at you as she spoke. “Un día, (Y/N). I promise.”

Her hands slipped from your back and her hips escaped your gentle grasp, but before she could turn around, your words rung through the air — “Te quiero, Ona. Vuelve enseguida.”

She smiled sadly at you, knowing that the words on her tongue were just as heavy as yours were to you, but turned the corner not knowing if it was reciprocated.

“Yo también te quiero.”

#fc barcelona #fc barcelona femeni #fcb femení #woso #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #ona batlle #woso x reader #woso community #woso imagines #x reader #ona battle x reader #woso imagine #football

[thepenultimateword]

Always

Villain tried to shut the door, but Henchman was too fast, catching it by its edge before the gap could fully disappear.

“Found you," they said, half threat, half croon. They shoved into the house, knocking Villain back a few steps.

"What are you doing here?" Villain said, catching themself on the coatrack and nearly pulling it down on top of themself.

Henchman reached over Villain's head to steady it and then stayed there. Peeling back the nonchalance plastered over their shame. Taking in their altered form.

"Where have you been?" they countered, soft, knuckle raised gently against Villain's cheek before abruptly dropping again.

"Here. There. What does it matter? You found me." Villain ducked under their arm and hobbled slowly to the couch. Henchman's heavy step traveled in the opposite direction, followed by the click of the door closing, then the steps tramped back toward them. By the time Villain had plopped down on the couch cushion Henchman was kneeling in front of them. For an instant, it was like nothing had changed. Total fealty.

Villain stopped their hand short before they could touch Henchman's head. It felt wrong when they were so utterly weak. There had always been a balance, Henchman so physically intimidating, and Villain thrumming with destructive power. The upper hand, the reason for such devotion, had been crystal clear. Now, Villain could wither and scatter under Henchman's expectations.

"You completely disappeared." Henchman laid their head in Villain's lap anyway. "You were hurt and I got worried. But you didn't answer my calls. You didn't tell anyone where you were going. It's taken me 8 months to track you down. It's like you were trying to avoid me."

Villain sighed, dropping their rigidness and succumbing to the urge to stroke back Henchman's hair. It was just as soft as they remembered, thick and fluffy like an animal pelt. They twirled a piece above their ear, but avoided Henchman's watching eyes as they responded, "I was done for and everyone knew it. It was better to step down and disappear than wait for someone else to assassinate me."

Henchman reached up and took loose hold of Villain's wrist. Why was their gaze so earnest? Didn't they know? Didn't they feel the difference in them? Shouldn't that past awe and adoration be visibally dying at the sight of them?

"I would've protected you," Henchman said.

"I didn't want you to. I have too many enemies. You would have been hurt."

"Then you should've told me. I would've come with you."

"I didn't want that either."

Henchman flinched, and Villain was struck with a stab of guilt. That wasn't entirely true. Of course, Villain had wanted Henchman with them. Of course, it was agony knowing they couldn't even say goodbye. But anything but a clean break would have been worse. They couldn't just ask Henchman to give up their position, goals, and standing for life of nothing. No, more than that, they couldn't bear to see Henchman's devotion grow into disdain. The loss of their powers was the loss of their worth. Henchman would've clung to the threads of their memories but ultimately, Villain would have failed them.

Henchman dropped Villain's wrist but huddled in a little closer. "And...now that I'm here?"

Villain's heart panged. "You should go back."

Henchman hugged tight around Villain's legs, almost like a lifeline. "Why?"

Moment of truth. Time to make this permanent. “I’m not going back.”

“I know.”

“I can’t. I’m ruined. Those heroes took everything when they stripped me and left me for dead."

"I know."

"And even if I wasn’t. I still wouldn’t go back. I was getting tired. Losing focus. That's how they got me in the first place."

“I know.”

Why did they keep saying that? Obviously, they did not know if they could be so casual. This was the rest of their life!

“Henchman, I can’t give you anything anymore. I don't have the influence or power to protect you. I can't bring about a bright new world. I'm spent. A pathetic shell. You should find another person to serve. I'll never be able to give you what you want."

Henchman turned their head up at them. "Why would I want any of that?"

Villain choked. "Don't you?"

"Maybe when I was a kid. Things change over a couple decades." They lifted their head and sank back on their heels. "Your powers were amazing. It's true that they drew me to you. But I never stuck around for that. Or for the status. You're just so..." Henchman broke off, face crinkling as they searched for the word. Finally, they shrugged. "I don't know; it's too big. You spent so long taking care of me. Looking out for me. Giving me chances I didn't think I deserved. Let me do the same for you." Henchman took their hand in both of theirs, hesitantly kissing one knuckle. "Just let me be with you."

Villain flushed a little. They'd always been close. Close enough for feelings. Close enough for both to recognize it in the other. But there had never seemed to be a right time to acknowledge them out loud.

"Do you really not want me here?" Henchman said at Villain's extended silence.

"You'd be ok with a normal life?" Villain pressed. "No powers, no schemes, no money, just me?"

"It's always been just you."

Villain slid off the couch and onto the floor in front of Henchman. "Of course, I want you here."

They couldn't keep their voice from cracking in the middle and the next thing they knew they were folded up in Henchman's arms. They melted immediately. All the shame, fear, and frustration seemed to fade right out of them.

"I love you."

Henchman jolted a little, but as they pressed their head to Villain's, Villain saw a smile tugging at their lips. "Good. Then I'll always, always stay."

#heroes and villains #creative writing #heroes and villains community #writblr #writing snippet #villain #villain x villain #villain x henchman #retired villain #retired henchman #quick write

[trans-axolotl]

content note: discussion of suicide.

this next monday will be the six year anniversary of losing one of my friends to suicide.

when he died, my high school barely mentioned his death, even though for other students who died by things like car crashes or illness, there were so many public expressions of grief. they believed that having any memorials for a student who died by suicide would encourage other people to die the same way. in their rush to erase the circumstances of his death, they erased the memory of his life.

there are so many things i am angry at that high school about in terms of how they treated mental health (mandatory reporting and collaborating with cops, their refusal to recognize the ways in which that system led to peer-to-peer crisis support, their refusal to recognize the ways that trying to keep each other alive through trial and error was scary and exhausting, carceral disciplinary policies, etc etc etc). but i think one of the things i am still angriest about is the way they enforced shame around his death. it felt like they were retroactively blaming him for the constellation of circumstances that made suicide an option in his life. it felt like they were blaming those of us who missed him and cared about him and wanted to grieve him. it made those of us still there who were actively suicidal feel even more scared about the reaction if we did reach out for help from one of those mythical safe adults.

as an adult now involved in psych abolition/mad liberation work, it makes me so fucking mad to see the ways in which he was discarded by people in authority positions. and the older i get, the more options i have found in my life for making sense of the world and finding healing and community and support which were never available to him because he died when he was 16 and the only things offered to him were a carceral psychiatric system that blamed him for his own fucking death. it feels so incredibly unfair.

i miss him and i think i always will; i can't remember his laugh or the sound of his voice or his favorite color any more and that aches. this grief is so heavy and it feels harder in a new way each year, when i become older than he will ever be. sometimes meeting new comrades or seeing new anticarceral suicide support models hurts because i wish so fucking bad that we had that back then. i remember how close we came to losing even more people that year and i know it is simple fucking luck that i'm still here when he's not.

i remember another letter (never sent) that i wrote to a friend while they were in an ICU bed after a suicide attempt when i didn't know if they would live or not. i have spent so much time in the past 10 years begging for anything to keep me and my friends alive, but even in that letter i knew that there is so much fucking violence that is hidden beneath psychiatric logics of cure and safety that promise a "solution" to suicide. I knew that institutionalization, coercion, and shame would not have helped build a life more liveable for him or **** or any of the people i've loved and lost since.

there needs to be more fucking options for care and support that aren't so incredibly cruel to suicidal people. i know so many people doing incredible work in alternatives, peer respite, a million different frameworks for healing and liberation. but it makes me so mad every day i have to live in a world where there are still people restrained, locked up in psych wards, having all autonomy and personhood taken away from them. knowing there are dozens of people every day getting blamed for their deaths the same way he was blamed for his.

i miss him. i cared so fucking much for him. and he died by suicide, and all of those things are true. he has been dead for 6 years and he lived before that and the people who loved him want to remember all of him; our celebrations of his life should not require hiding the way that he died.

Image description: [1000 origami cranes in all different colors and patterns that are tied together in strings of 25]

(these were the 1000 cranes we made to give to his parents, in memorial and recognition of how much he meant to us.)

#personal #suicide tw #suicide mention tw #psych abuse tw #psych ward tw #ok to reblog if u want #psych abolition #mad liberation #psych survivor #it's a lot of grief hours over here and will be for a while all week i think #lots of grief so many ways this year for so many people #but this week. his memory . my grief for him #is hitting especially hard. i think partially because of all the transitions in my life. i'm graduating college. he will never become an ad #adult. #i think i might ask my roommates if they will go do something to remember him with me. maybe making origami cranes and sending them off in #the river. or writing things down and burning them #idk. grief is hard #six years in grief is different. but hard

[shadowdaddies]

I am a sucker for angst so can I please request a Ruhn danaan x reader. Where she and ruhn have been together for a while, and she overhears ruhn saying something about her being a bet or a dare. A lot of angst and maybe some fluffy ending

thanks for the request, love💜

Just a Bet

Ruhn x Reader angst to fluff

Smoothing your hair, you stepped out of your car in the driveway as you strode towards Ruhn’s house. You were already regretting the heels you’d donned for your anniversary, feet aching in opposition to the excitement you felt to celebrate one year since Ruhn had asked you out.

Cheeks burning from smiling so hard, you turned the door handle and entered the busy frat house. It wasn’t unusual for many guests to be over, so you paid them no mind as you shouldered your way through the crowd toward the game room where Ruhn usually spent evenings like this.

Juniper caught your eye from across the room, and you waved to her and Fury as you approached the doorway where Ruhn’s voice echoed in a comforting rumble - until you heard Flynn’s voice.

“One year ago, I bet you that you wouldn’t ask her out,” he laughed, the sound of clinking beer bottles and jeers following.

Your heart leapt in your throat when you heard Ruhn’s voice, time standing still as you awaited his response. Your boyfriend scoffed, “I didn’t think I could either.”

Dec chimed in at that point - your kindest friend in the group - his tone teasing as he drawled, “I still can’t believe she took you seriously.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears, eyes pricking with tears as the conversation came together in your head. You were nothing more than a bet to Flynn, a joke that Declan couldn’t take serious, and apparently Ruhn felt the same.

Ripping the painful heels off your feet, you sprinted down the stairs and out of the house. Tossing the shoes in your passenger seat, you wiped the tears from your eyes and started the engine before heading back to your apartment.

The dress felt ridiculous, hair a mess and makeup ruined from crying as you stumbled into your home. Why would Ruhn have stayed with you for this long from a stupid bet? Were you nothing more than a joke, for him and his friends’ amusement?

The thought made tears well up once more, this time pouring over your cheeks as you sobbed. Practically ripping the dress from your body, you ignored the buzzing of your phone in favor of your welcoming shower.

Stepping under the steaming hot water, you scrubbed the memory of tonight as best you could from your skin before stepping out. Wrapping a fluffy towel around your body, you sighed with a hint of relief. 

Realizing how dried out you were from your tears, you padded towards the kitchen for some water when you were stopped in your tracks. Bryce lay on your couch, lazily flipping through the tv channels as amber eyes flicked to yours. 

With a dramatic sigh, she set down the remote, turning fully to face you. She took in your disheveled state, expression softening at the redness in your eyes, your puffy cheeks.

Shutting off the TV, Bryce sat up and patted the open space on the sofa next to her.

“I need water,” you whispered through a sniffle, voice raspy from dehydration. 

“I’ll get it for you. Sit,” Bryce directed, her voice gentle as she sprung gracefully from the couch and headed toward the kitchen.

You settled into the cushions, picking a pillow from behind you to hold against your chest. Nodding a silent thanks, you took the water from Bryce and drank it down, the cold liquid cooling your heated cheeks.

“Fury texted me. She and Juniper saw you running out of Ruhn’s house before he came downstairs asking if they’d seen you. He’s been blowing up everyone’s phones, worried about you.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, but you found yourself unable to make eye contact with your friend as you muttered, “Yeah, I’m sure he’s heartbroken.”

Before you could react, the pillow was ripped from your arms, Bryce’s manicured nails practically digging holes into its fabric as her eyes simmered with barely contained rage.

“You may be my friend, but Ruhn is my brother. Explain to me why you think his heartbreak is amusing to you.” Your lower lip wobbled at her harsh words, the dam of your emotions about to break again.

Bryce loosed a breath, gently setting the pillow between you on the sofa as she spoke again, her voice softer this time. “I don’t know what happened, but he’s hurting too. Talk to me.”

The patterns on the pillow suddenly became much more interesting, your fingers tracing the stitching in the fabric while you found the courage to voice what you had heard at the house. “I was going to meet Ruhn for our anniversary dinner... but I heard them talking. I heard Flynn say that I was a bet. Even Dec-“

Shifting to rest on your elbows, you hid your face in your hands as the memory flashed too vividly through your mind. “Dec said he couldn’t believe I thought Ruhn was serious when he asked me out.”

You looked up to see Bryce’s own eyes lined with tears, her jaw set in anger as she processed everything you said.

“I’m a joke to them, Bryce. I was just a bet that he’s decided to string along for whatever reason. Maybe he does like me now, but...”

You couldn’t find the words, tongue twisted in knots like your stomach as thoughts eddied deeper and darker as you reflected on the past year of your life. 

Bryce’s hand gently reached for your own, holding them softly as she spoke. “I am going to speak with Ruhn and figure out what is going on. If he was such a dumbass to do something like that to you, I’ll kick his ass. But I feel like there has to be something more to it. They’re good males - stupid alphaholes - but they’re good males.”

You nodded, a flicker of hope sparking in your chest at the thought. They had always been kind to you... Surely that couldn’t all be fake?

“Why don’t you get dressed? I’m going to see Ruhn and I’ll pick you up some food,” Bryce promised, pulling you in for a warm hug before turning and heading out the door, phone already in hand as she fired off messages.

You returned to your room, feeling numb from the pendulum of emotions you’d swung on all evening. You vaguely remembered slipping on a t shirt and shorts, returning to the couch to find the channel on Fangs and Bangs before you fell asleep.

You bolted upright at the sound of a soft knock at your door, rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes to look at your phone. Not much time had passed, but the bombardment of earlier messages from Ruhn and your friends filled the screen. 

“Are you there? Bryce told me what happened, and it’s not what you think.” A tense beat of silence passed between you. “Please just hear me out. If you’d rather talk to Bryce, she’s downstairs... But I brought food.”

As if on cue, your stomach growled, drawing attention to the hunger gnawing in your gut. Stomping towards the door, you flung it open to grab the food from Ruhn’s hands when his appearance shocked you still.

His violet eyes were rimmed red and swollen like yours, his hair a mess. He was dressed in an all-black suit, the shirt unbuttoned and tie loose. You hated how it tugged on your heartstrings to see him this way, how there was a part of you that could never hate him, even if what Flynn had said was true.

“Fine,” you snapped, snatching the bag of food before returning to the couch without a second glance. “You have one shot to explain.”

Ruhn sighed, the sound slightly drowned out by the soft click of the door closing behind him. You spared him a glance as he took a seat on the couch, careful to keep his distance.

The chipped black paint of his nails blended into his onyx hair as he ran a hand through it, his muscular leg shaking anxiously before he turned to you. Wholly still, Ruhn’s voice emanated with earnest when he finally spoke.

“Bryce told me what you heard, back at my house. I understand how it would sound, but that’s not at all what happened, and I first and foremost need you to know that you are not a joke. You have never been a joke - to Flynn, to Dec, and especially not to me. I was the joke in that room. They were teasing me, because, yes, asking you out was a dare of sorts.”

You felt the rage build in your chest at that, setting down your food on the table as you prepared for what he would say next - or so you thought you were prepared. 

“I remember the first time I saw you, when you came into the White Raven with Bryce. It felt like my world tilted on its axis,” he paused, shaky breath leaving his lips as his eyes went hazy, lost in the memory. 

“You were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen, and when you smiled at me I forgot how to breathe. The entire room was staring at you, and you somehow didn’t notice.”

He loosed a breathy laugh, shaking his head as he fought back a smile. “Dec and Marc were teasing me. They saw how I reacted to you, how drawn to you I was. But you were so beautiful and charming, and could have had any male or female you wanted.”

Drawing your legs to your chest, you settled into the couch and fought back the tears in your eyes at his story.

“Flynn’s ‘bet’ was just that I wouldn’t have the guts to ask someone like you out. And I didn’t at first,” Ruhn laughed, toying with his lip ring before those violet eyes flicked up to meet yours. 

“But then Flynn said that if I didn’t ask you out, he would. And that’s when I jumped up from our table so fast I knocked Dec’s beer on me, and made a fool of myself asking you out like that.”

Ruhn looked down at your hands, his own twitching as though barely holding back from reaching for you. So you reached for him. The cold silver of his rings was a familiar comfort, and you felt yourself relax as his fingers twined tightly with your own.

“Dec didn’t think you’d take me seriously because I was a dumbass, asking out the most incredible female I’ve ever met while covered in beer and stumbling through my words.” You laughed then, and Ruhn’s entire presence seemed to brighten in response. 

“I remember. I thought it was cute. You weren’t the snobby fae royalty I would have expected, and I found it very charming,” you teased, a smile spreading across your face as you then relived the memory of the striking yet goofy male first approaching you.

“I am so sorry that I didn’t tell you that. It’s not exactly something that I’m proud of, that I was so nervous to ask you out. Flynn never lets me live it down.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, feeling embarrassed at how you had jumped to conclusions so quickly. “I feel like I ruined our anniversary. I should have stayed and listened to you.”

Ruhn’s eyes glittered like stars, his hands finding your waist to lift you into his lap. Hooking your arms around his neck, you straddled your boyfriend’s hips. Ruhn exhaled sharply through his teeth, causing you to lean back in alarm.

“It’s just a bruise, curtesy of Bryce.” You blushed, biting back laughter over your friend’s protectiveness. “You did not ruin anything. Flynn, on the other hand, got it worse than me,” he chuckled, nodding to his wounded side.

“You have a lot of people in your life who would do anything for you, including Bryce and myself. All I want is to spend the rest of our night together so I can show you just how much I love you,” he murmured, eyed lidded with desire as you settled further into his lap.

“I think I could arrange that,” you purred, leaning down to kiss Ruhn’s full lips before trailing his jaw, down his neck, his exposed chest. 

He picked you up, carrying you bridal style to the bedroom where you spent the night exchanging soft touches and sweet nothings until the sun rose the next morning.

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[sinsirellaxx]

Unwanted bride

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: You are forced to marry the infamous Rogue Prince. (I suck at summaries)

A/N: I have so many requests waiting to be written, but I'm currently trapped in a HOTD-mood. So, sorry for everyone who is waiting!

Enjoy reading!

PS: Not proofread. BTW should this be a series? Is it worth a second part? Please let me know!

Your breath hitched as the huge doors opened. The chatter inside immediately died down, the silence weighing heavy on your shoulders. You struggled to breathe. And the tight corset around your waist felt like a deadly snake out to kill you slowly – its grip growing tighter by the minute until it finally suffocates you until you are no more.

You slowly lifted your head high, as high as you felt, your vision disrupted by the thick veil on your head. You were glad you couldn’t see clearly, for the turned heads alone were enough to send your heart into overdrive.

The hand on your back slowly pushed you to move forward, the touch scorching hot as it sent a wave of nausea straight to your stomach. You wish your family had been with you – someone familiar. Someone warm. But instead, the hand belonged to the uncle you hated. And apparently, he hated you too.

He had brought you with him, with the promise of adventures. But instead, you were immediately sold off like life-stock.

They are Targaryen.

Your uncle had told you.

He is a dragon rider.

He had added with excitement and slight envy – as if he wanted your future husband for himself.

You’ll be known as the lady wife of The Rogue Prince.

You shuddered at the memory as you had shuddered then. You had heard the tales about The Rogue Prince, and you had only gained more knowledge on him the closer you had got. From what you could gather: He was the worst. And he would not treat you kindly, as you lacked certain attributes that he was known to desire.

With one last push from your uncle your feet started moving, taking slow and deliberate steps while minding the heavy skirts of her wedding gown, spread around her like rose petals.  The Valyrian steel necklace with the red stone felt too tight around your neck, you felt the strong urge to rip it off and throw it onto the cold marble floor. But you couldn’t.

Instead, you took in a deep shaky breath before you reached the dais where Daemon Targaryen stood, his silver-gold hair cascading down his back, his violet eyes ablaze with a mixture of irritation and blinding fury. Your heart stuttered chest tight with anxiety, as you approached him. You couldn't help but notice the contrast between his striking Targaryen features and your own plainness. You weren’t unattractive – you were beautiful. Yet you couldn’t help but feel small in front of your future husband.

The murmurs of the gathered guests intensified as you drew nearer, the weight of their scrutiny pressing down on you like a leaden cloak – like the cloak of Daemon’s house would feel. You felt the urge to flee, to escape this suffocating atmosphere, but you knew there was no turning back now.

With every step, your heart pounded louder in your ears, the sound echoing in the cavernous hall. And then, finally, you stood before him, your breath catching in your throat as you dared to raise your gaze to meet his. He loomed over you, a deep frown on his face as he tried to look past your veils. He was so much taller, broader and older than you – his stature intimidated you.

As the High Septon’s voice sounded, you felt Daemon's gaze burning into you, even though he couldn’t exactly see you his violet eyes seemingly bored into your soul with an intensity that made your heart race. You gulped; throat dry.

The ceremony passed by in a blur, you flinched slightly when your cloak was removed replaced by Daemon’s heavy one, his smell lingering on the fabric and surrounding you like a blanket.

And then, it was finally time for him to remove your veil. Screaming internally, you willed your facial muscles to relax, eyes widening slightly as Daemon lifted his hands to lift the fabric. As the delicate fabric fell away, revealing your face to him and the assembled guests, you held your breath, bracing for his reaction. His fiery eyes now finally meeting your big, scared ones. For a fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still as his gaze locked with yours. In that instant, you saw something unexpected flicker in his violet eyes — a glimmer of awe and curiosity. He smirked.

A hush fell over the hall, the silence broken only by the soft rustle of fabric and the beating of your heart, as your husband gripped your chin with his hand, lifting your head before his lips were crashing into yours, hot, wet and demanding. He tilted his head slightly, parting your lips with his thumb, before pushing his tongue hungrily into your inexperienced mouth. Your face heated up at the sheer embarrassment you felt. The kiss was brutal, void of any emotion or warmth – it was just to spite you in front of everyone.

A gasp was heard before the king cleared his throat.

And just as quickly as it had begun the kiss ended, biting your lip as he pulled away, leaving you breathless and reeling, your senses swimming in a dizzying whirl of emotion. And as you stood there, locked in each other's gaze, the crude smirk still plastered on his face, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

As the ceremony gave way to celebration, the great hall erupted with the sounds of revelry. Long tables groaned under the weight of sumptuous feasts, the air thick with the scent of roast meats, spiced wine, and freshly baked bread. Guests laughed and sang, their voices mingling with the strains of music that filled the air.

You found yourself seated at the high table sitting next to your husband. Despite the festive atmosphere, a palpable tension hung in the air, a silent undercurrent of unspoken grievances and unfulfilled desires.

As you sat there, picking at your food with feigned interest, you couldn't help but feel the weight of Daemon's gaze upon you. His violet eyes bore into you with a fierce intensity, his jaw clenched in barely restrained anger. You knew he resented you, resented being forced into this marriage against his will, and the knowledge only served to fuel the flames of your own insecurity. You wanted to cry, the little girl inside you slowly dying as the dream wedding and the lord husband of your dreams slowly seeped through your fingers like sand. You kissed all your dream and wishes goodbye as the angry Targaryen sitting next to you finally turned to face the other way.

Releasing a breath of relief a figure approached your table, cutting through the tension like a knife through butter. It was Cregan Stark, tall and imposing, his ice-blue eyes glinting with mischief as he offered you his hand.

"Would you do me the honor of a dance, my princess?" he asked, his voice smooth as silk.

For a moment, you were stunned into silence, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. And for a brief second, you wished you had married a man like him instead of the brooding dragon rider who refused to ask you for a dance. You smiled slightly, your first real smile of the day, as your cheeks flushed a pretty pink. But before you could even formulate a response or lift your hand, Daemon's hand shot out, gripping your arm roughly, quickly pulling it down before anyone could see.

"She's my wife," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

But Cregan Stark merely smiled, unfazed by Daemon's obvious displeasure.

"Of course, my apologies," he said with a polite nod. "I meant no offense. But I couldn’t help but notice the longing in your eyes, princess."

“It is none of your concern, Stark.” Daemon spat out, glaring at the still smiling male.

You sat there stunned, your heart pounding in your chest and your arm throbbing from the tight grip. You stole a glance at Daemon and noticed his clenched jaw and deep frown. It must have hurt his ego that another man asked his wife for a dance. Your heart beat faster as you forcefully removed his hand from around your arm, turning to smile up at Cregan Stark, your eyes shining as you put your hand in his.

“I would love to, my lord.”

As you gracefully twirled away with Cregan Stark, you felt everyone’s eyes glued to your form. It was unheard of for the bride to have her first dance with another. Yet there you were.

You couldn't help but steal a glance back at Daemon. His expression was a storm of conflicting emotions, his fists clenched at his sides as he watched you dance with a mixture of anger and frustration etched across his features.

The king, seated beside him, chuckled at the sight, his voice carrying over the music with a hint of amusement. "Well, brother, it seems you've only yourself to blame for not dancing with your wife."

Daemon's glare intensified, his jaw tightening with barely contained fury. "I didn’t even want to marry her," he stated through gritted teeth.

The king merely shrugged, taking a sip of his wine as he watched the scene unfold before him. "And yet, here you are, brooding with something akin envy. Perhaps you should be more attentive from now on, brother dearest. She is your wife after all. And from the looks of it, she has many admirers.” The smile on Viserys’ face morphed into a chuckle as he he nodded towards another lord who was waiting eagerly to dance with you, his eyes alight with mirth at the sight of your popularity among the assembled guests.

Daemon's response was a low growl, his gaze never leaving you as you moved across the dance floor with another man. It was clear that he resented the Stark's intrusion, that he bristled at the thought of another man laying claim to what is rightfully his.

With a sudden, angry movement, Daemon Targaryen pushed his chair back with a loud scrape against the stone floor, his fists clenched at his sides as he rose to his full height. Rolling his shoulders back he walked away from the table and towards you, his violet eyes flashing with a fierce intensity.

Viserys, rolled his eyes at his brother's dramatic display, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips nonetheless his heart at ease as he could detect the way his brother was drawn to his new bride, no matter how vehemently he would deny the truth.

Daemon’s gaze was solely fixed on you as he strode towards you. You still hadn’t noticed him.

How dare you?

“It’s time for us to dance, my dear wife.” He demanded, with a saccharine sweet smile on his face. He didn’t wait for your response as he took ahold of your hand and practically ripped you away from Cregan – pulling you straight into his strong arms. He placed his hand dangerously low on your back, his touch possessive as he looked down at you, your body immediately tensing up at the close proximity. Whereas Cregan Stark had been respectful, Daemon was daring, pressing your bodies together as he danced with you. His arm wrapping around your waist tightly.

Narrowing his eyes, Daemon mumbled quietly, “If you wanted to dance, you should have asked, wife.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at the Targaryen prince’s audacity. “A bride shouldn’t have to ask her spouse.”

Daemon seemed do dislike your tone as his grip on you tightened, his fingers pressing harshly into your flesh.

“Careful with that attitude, little bird.” He sneered, his eyes darkening with a strange emotion that you haven’t seen before – you couldn’t pinpoint it.

You chose not to retort to your husband’s silent threat, not wishing to anger the man you had to spend the rest of your life with further. Averting your eyes, you missed the devilish smirk on his face. His movements laced with an air of impatience. He couldn’t wait to finally be alone with his pretty little wife.

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