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#which means there is SO much room for making up your own stuff lol
pikkish · 2 years
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Jupiter Hell headcanons. Giv.
Headcanons? Plural? HECK YEAH DON'T MIND IF I DO
youtube
^^^also putting the cinematic trailer here bc its good and more people should watch it (and then go buy the game and play it for hours and give it a good review)
anyway yes I have lots of headcanons about this game and since I'm basically the only one posting about it here on tumblr there's no one to contradict me on them. also a lot of them parallel and/or contrast with Doom headcanons, since JH is largely inspired by Doom.
For starters, the CRI isn't inherently evil like the UAC. I mean, they definitely have problems, what with the Callisto mines being run primarily by prisoner labor, and the primary funder of the CRI being the us military so their main focus is war weapons, so they're just as twisted as any major government funded war profiteering company, but they're not actively going "hee hoo lets sacrifice our own employees in cult rituals to Hell for ~SCIENCE!~" They just went "Woah whats this funny pentagram thing buried in the heart of Europa? WOAH ITS A PORTAL TO IO!! SICK WE CAN INSTANTANEOUSLY TRAVEL BETWEEN MOONS hey wait there's another one here on Io YOOOOOO IS THIS A SPACE STATION INSIDE JUPITER??? WE SHOULD TOTALLY INVESTIGATE THIS!" And then it turned out it was a portal to Hell and they accidentally started the demonic invasion. Tough luck, guys.
As for the protagonist, JupeGuy, or Mark Taggart, as is his default name for each run, I like to think that for all his flippant, snarky comments throughout the game, he's actually a relatively sane, levelheaded character, especially compared to Doomguy. This is mostly inspired by the fact that, once you get to the Dante Station levels, he stops with all the silly snarky voicelines and gets a lot more serious and solemn in reacting to things, but there are a few other points that work well with the headcanon. He uses cover when fighting, he can actually pick up a medkit and store it in his backpack for later use instead of either using it immediately or leaving it behind, he can modify and repair weapons and armor, he can gather intel on what's ahead and plan which route he wants to take based on that intel, and he doesn't just go charging at the final boss screaming ferally (unless you're playing a melee build.) He's like Doomguy's smarter, more wary cousin!
He 100% did go to The Pit on Europa, and he did pet Rexio, and now he has a funny puppy that's like five feet taller than him and will maul anything that looks at him mean. Let the man have his pet hellhound.
Also speaking of pets, solely because Doomguy has Daisy, I headcanon JupeGuy also likes small, flluffy animals, though he tends more toward birds, specifically budgies. He had a little green budgie with a yellow head named Spinach.
Ok, just one more headcanon, though this one takes a bit of explaining: there's a secret level in JH called Purgatory, and it is... punishing, both to survive, and just to get to.
First, in order to get to it, you very much have to know what you're doing. First, you have to go to a specific branch on Callisto, which is the first moon you're on. If you miss it, you're out of luck. on each floor you have to close a portal within a pretty short time limit, which usually means tanking damage from all the enemies between it and you, and again, this is early-game, so you're relatively low level and don't exactly have the stats to be tanking like that. Then, you have to close two of these portals, minimum, when at maximum, there only are three portals, and sometimes, there are only two to begin with, depending on where the branch entrance is.
So if you manage to do that, you'll be given the "Demonic Attunment" status, which... well! It's entire description is just "Unknown," so it doesn't really give you a whole lot to go on! But, if you can make it to the branch special level and successfully fight off a handful of archreavers- essentially JH's equivalent of Barons of Hell- then so long as you have a high enough rank of Demonic Attunement, you can hit a handful of pillars in the right order (an upside down star, of course) to open the portal to Purgatory, which doesn't sound so difficult in theory, but those pillars are the only cover you get from the archreavers in the entire arena, and if you accidentally bump one out of order while seeking shelter from the archreavers, then you're out of luck, you can't open the portal.
BUT, if you do get everything right, and you go through the portal, congratulations! you have a whole new set of problems to worry about! For one thing, Purgatory is jam packed with late game enemies, and you're still using early game gear, maybe with a few buffs if the loot in the Callisto Anomaly was good. For another, Purgatory is a liminal space, and going up and then right does not take you to the same place as if you go right and then up, so it's very easy to get lost. And the final icing on the cake? You gain the "Catharsis" status, the description for which reads, "You've witnessed the Purgatory. Some wounds will never heal, and you're less motivated to learn from new experiences."
How does that translate to game mechanics? the "less motivated to learn" means you permanently get 20% less experience for killing enemies, so you level a lot slower, and "some wounds never heal" means that every time you go through one of the teleporters to the next room, you permanently lose a few points off your maximum health.
So what's the reward for going to Purgatory aside from the challenge of it, fighting the secret boss battle, and unlocking the second, harder hardest mode? Well, see, Jupiter Hell is a roguelike game, so all of the loot and weapons you get are randomized. But if you know the route- and I do mean really know the route, because again, going right and up is not the same as up then right, and the health loss applies when backtracking, too- you can get your pick of any of the unique weapons in the game, of which, in a non-purgatory run that goes to all three possible special levels, you are normally only guaranteed to get one unique, and a random one that may not work at all with your build. But in Purgatory, if you can survive there and back, you can get any of them that you want.
Now, the unique weapons are great and all, but if you know what you're doing, you can beat the game without one. So what's an even more powerful weapon, or perhaps, a more powerful defense against Hell itself, that which does its utmost to rip all the joy and hope and love out of you? What could possibly let you knowingly stand against and fight Hell itself like that?
Here's where the actual headcanon starts, because my answer is apathy.
Or, the achievement of catharsis.
Knowing that you're going to bleed forever, knowing that your achievements don't actually amount to all that much, knowing that you are going to go to Hell, choosing to go to Hell, and being okay with that. Being at peace with that. Because how can you truly be affected by misery and suffering if you have already made peace with your situation?
So I think that JupeGuy figured out pretty quickly that he was fighting demons and realized he wouldn't be going home, but to Hell instead. I don't know how he knew to get to Purgatory, since, like I said, it isn't readily apparent, but you pretty much need to know what you're doing in order to get there, so it was a conscious decision on his part. He chose to go there, chose to take up the burden of eternal pain, chose to lose the joy of learning new things, the excitement of life, he chose the horrible apathy of catharsis, all so that he could fight Hell itself and stop the invasion.
And I just think that's a terrible, awful, and incredibly interesting concept, of catharsis first being a bad thing, a painful thing, that only by knowingly, willingly choosing to bear that pain forever can one gain some meager benefit.
as a last note, here is the background music for Purgatory. I think it is absolutely terrifying and also sometimes I will listen to it on repeat and think about JupeGuy.
(I had to record this myself by sitting in the level and taking a video then converting that video to mp3, because no one's put the ost up on youtube, I don't know if/where you can officially download it, and apparently JH uses a weird filetype that I could not for the life of me find a tutorial on how to rip the soundfiles for. So idk if that's its actual name or what.)
#pikspeak#jupiter hell#thank u for asking me about jh i love it so much it is such a good game#i think you in particular would actually really like it. it feel very very much like classic doom to me#albeit with more stat management and reading and such#but it actually plays so SO fast for a turn based game#and has only marginally more lore than classic doom does#the vast majority of which is entirely just flavor text#which means there is SO much room for making up your own stuff lol#ive actually been thinking about a JHxModern Doom crossover au for a while now#in which doomguy and jupeguy are brothers and end up fending off their respective hell invasions at roughly the same time#and then things get funny while dg is in argent dnur and later when jupeguy gets back to earth#im sure ill talk about that sooner or later if people wanna hear it#also it was made by a small dev team and theyre still actively updating it even a year after launch#like the full game is definitely there but the devs are still adding the stuff from like#kickstarter goals that werent initially reached in the original kickstart#and i hopped on the discord a while back and everyone there is so nice#i was actually able to reach/beat the purgatory boss bc of tips they gave me#and they have a channel for posting your death/victory logs and#even though most of the ones people put there are like their super hardcore victories#both times ive put my little medium difficulty victories in there people have congratulated me#also i see the lead dev in the discord all the time especially in the bug report channel and the design suggestion channel#helping people troubleshoot and talking with them about their ideas for the game#basically what im saying is that its a super awesome game AND the devs seem super cool too#you should definitely play it. and let me know what you think of it if you do!!#we could yell at each other about ANOTHER silly stupid space marine...!
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
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light of the morning
in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs
It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers. 
It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door. 
"Hi."
"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this. 
You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door. 
"Did I wake you?"
"How could you tell?"
"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"
"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."
"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."
He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.
You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth. 
"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."
His eyebrows dart up. 
"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"
When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it. 
"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"
His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack. 
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"
"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."
You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety. 
"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.
He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."
It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement. 
"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"
"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."
You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care. 
"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."
Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves. 
You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone. 
"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"
"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you. 
"Spencer."
“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are. 
"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."
He looses a nervous laugh. 
"I know. We’ve just never really done this."
You frown at the darkness.
"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."
"Yeah, but… this feels different."
That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex? 
Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours. 
"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly. 
"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it. 
"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.
"Can I…"
"Yeah."
Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now. 
He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it. 
"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt. 
"Goodnight," he whispers back. 
You fall asleep pretty quickly after that. 
------------------------------
It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.
Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache. 
But you’re just friends. 
Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away. 
"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep. 
"Five."
"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."
"Sometimes waking up early is okay."
His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—
He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt. 
Friends. 
"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."
"I don’t want to go back to sleep."
The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.  
"No? What do you want?"
Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer. 
The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.
So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?
Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips. 
"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"
"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"
You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away. 
Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words. 
"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing. 
"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"
He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words. 
You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you. 
"It’s fine. Thank you."
He continues chewing on his lip for a moment. 
"Did I just ruin the mood?"
"No," you laugh, "not at all."
"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again. 
"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses. 
He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck. 
"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"
"Kind of," you breathe.
"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."
Well, he’s not wrong there. 
You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later. 
You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you. 
Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you. 
Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum. 
"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."
"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders. 
"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs. 
You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 
Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans. 
"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want. 
He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close. 
"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course. 
He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty. 
You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway. 
When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently. 
"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."
You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt. 
You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about. 
"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further. 
"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway. 
"You must have me confused with someone else."
"Doubtful."
You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 
"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"
It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words. 
"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 
"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."
He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you. 
"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation. 
"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."
"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 
"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."
You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.
"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut. 
"Only for you."
Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating. 
"Only me?"
You moan an affirmation. 
"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"
"Yes!"
"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."
"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"
He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 
You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing. 
No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 
You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet. 
"You okay?"
All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb. 
"Need your words, angel girl."
"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing. 
"Yeah? Why so quiet?"
But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter. 
"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"
"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck. 
"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."
"An hour."
He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. 
"I said 48 minutes."
But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure. 
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kinopio-writes · 2 months
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Hi! Would you be willing to write something for Adam with a sensitive reader?
Everyone knows that he is loud-mouthed jerk, even reader, and she loves him regardless, but one day he crosses the line and says something particularly mean that makes her cry. Like REAL mean. To the point that he pauses because he did not think before speaking (or, well, less than usual lol)
I'm happy with whatever format you feel like using! Thank you!
A/N: I will be more than delighted to write that for you. But would you excuse me for a moment? AHHHHHHDISJDIOEOFJSKXJND—I’m sorry; I love this idea so much. Reading ‘Adam with a sensitive reader’ got me hooked instantly. But I’ll go over that in the headcanons, along with the general stuff. And I’ll add a oneshot at the end that plays the exact scenario of Adam taking it too far.
Holy sh!t. I made it so that the reader being sensitive is their greatest but also weakest point and it turned out pretty angsty. Has a bit of hurt/comfort, though. Did I go overboard? Maybe. That’s why it took so long. Sorry, anon.
Words: 2,328 (edited the end a bit because it didn’t sit right with me)
Warnings: Sex is mentioned (only a bit, surprisingly), Angst, Adam being Adam
———
Adam w/ a Sensitive!Reader
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• ha, this man is also sensitive himself
• well, sensitive about himself
• he feels his own emotions strongly, so he’s not the caring, easily able to pick up on other’s feelings and empathize type of sensitive
• you, on the other hand, are on the opposite end of the spectrum compared to Adam
• so you experience other people’s emotions just as strongly as yours
• you easily know what makes someone tick
• you’re selfless
• you’re able to admit your mistakes and apologize
• you’re respectful and actively listen to people when they talk about themselves
• you don’t push people down to make yourself seem better
• you try to make everyone feel good and comfortable
• you’re everything he isn’t
• because you fit in Heaven perfectly
• you deserve to be there
• and Adam knows that he doesn’t belong (subconsciously at least)
• you’re able to draw people in just for being yourself
• and he’s envious of it
• so he demeans you and is snarky about everything you do, and every time people give you praise or affection, he tries to divert the attention to himself or just stares at you with utter hatred from afar
• although all of that is just when he hasn’t even had a conversation with you
• after a while of being around you, he’ll cling to you because you give him the reassurance and validation he oh-so craves (he acts as if he didn’t hate you before. What do you mean? You two were always buddy-buddy!)
• you acknowledge all of the things he puts his worth to
• heck, you hang out with him—you sometimes even initiate it—willingly, and you’re genuinely interested in everything he has to say
• but he‘ll only hang out with you where no one recognizes you (so you don’t get all the attention)
• terrible transition here, but he notices that you mimic people’s expressions often
• he definitely makes fun of you for it
• and also mocks you
• up until he realizes that you do the same thing to him, too
• which is fine and all, if only you didn’t do that when he’s upset
• well, you mimic him when he’s joyous as well, but he (already subconsciously) expects you to. I mean, why wouldn’t you? He’s fucking hilarious!
• so you copying his negative emotions just stands out more
• and he…doesn’t like it
• that’s only really what he doesn’t like about you
• and the fact that you hog all the attention
• and the fact that people see you as perfect…
• buuut what happens when he gets to see a new side of you that isn’t exactly upholding that image?
———
Your phone lit up from your bedside table, brightening your otherwise dark room along with the soft glow of your halo. You only moved your eyes to the light, not wanting your tears to spill and dampen your pillows.
You had an inkling as to who was texting you this late—if the fact that your phone lighting up several times in the span of 5 minutes had anything to say.
When the texts stopped pouring in after a few seconds, you heavily sighed, wings ruffling. You resisted the urge to rub your face as you went to grab your phone.
HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) ARE YOU UP? (2:35) I’M BORED (2:35) GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE (2:36) IF YOU’RE UP (2:37) ARE YOU? (2:38) DID I TELL YOU THAT BITCH WITH THE HUGE TITS GOT FIRED TODAY? (2:39)
Figured. Of course, it was Adam. He was the only person you knew who’d be awake at this ungodly hour. And the only person you knew who’d disturb your peace if it meant curing anything that ailed him. Which was now about boredom, it seemed.
You read a few of his texts displayed on your lock screen before tapping one of the notifications and opening the app, scanning the rest of the unread messages.
Adam was going on about ‘that bitch with the huge tits’—her name was Tiffany, you were sure—and how she was rumored to have slept with an archangel to assume higher authority. He also went on to complain about how he didn’t have the chance to bed her anymore since she was basically deemed an outcast and that he couldn’t be seen with someone like her.
You frowned, not believing any of it, but you didn’t have time to think about it enough when he began typing again.
SO YOU’RE AWAKE (2:43)
You barely finished reading the new message when another one popped up.
DON’T IGNORE ME BITCH (2:43)
You frowned deeper, quick to type out a reply.
i’m not (2:43) i was just reading your texts (2:43) don’t worry (2:43) i’ll be there soon (2:44)
When he stopped typing, you placed your phone back on the nightstand, sitting up on your bed as you carefully wiped away your teary eyes. You hugged yourself for a moment, wings functioning as a cocoon while a hand tugged on your hair.
Today had been draining—both mentally and emotionally. Just like the day before, and the day before that. But you didn’t want to think about it, lest you start to cry some more and smear your face with tears this time. What mattered was that everyone was back on their feet again.
Since you didn’t bother changing into your sleepwear when you got home, you only checked your face in the mirror to see if your eyes were puffy or not. You then took in deep breaths, holding up your drooping wings before putting up a charming smile.
You couldn’t stay in the bathroom for long, quickly leaving to tread the path to Adam’s.
•••
“BOO!” Adam’s masked face suddenly peeked from the corner of his hallway, earning an indescribable scream from you as you jerked back. He burst out laughing, brows creased in confusion but also amusement. He couldn’t even make fun of you for getting scared. “What the—what the fuck was that scream?”
Recovering rather quickly as you blinked, you only smiled at him. You were expecting him to wait for you on his couch as his front door was left unlocked, but you weren’t complaining; his action took away any drowsiness you just had.
When Adam didn’t hear you laugh with him, his laughter subsided as he opened his eyes to look at your face. He raised his brows and placed the back of his hands on his hips. “What’s up with you?”
Shit. There was no way Adam was seeing through you.
“Nothing; I just love hearing you laugh.” You heard a tiny squeak in response. “Anyway, what did you make me come over for? Surely not just to scare me.” You moved past Adam and tightly crossed your arms, entering his spacious living room.
“Pshh, fuck no. You’re so easy to spook. Though that was a first. Didn’t know you could hit high notes, (Name).”
You didn’t know what to say to his…compliment? And sort of insult? Was it really either of them? Should you thank him? But in a sarcastic way? No, you weren’t known for being sarcastic, so he might think you were being genuine and look at you weirdly. And it would also seem highly egotistical.
Not as if Adam had much to say about that…
You tugged at your hair when you caught yourself with those thoughts. Shit, that’s so rude! You can’t think that! You shouldn’t think that!
You settled on an awkward chuckle, making yourself appear smaller as you averted your eyes to his TV space.
It was different, certainly. The modular couch pieces were rearranged into a pit sectional. And it looked as though he had chucked a bunch of pillows and one large blanket as an afterthought. It appeared messy, but at least it looked cozy.
“What’s this?”
“Hm? Oh, well, since you were taking your sweet ass time coming here, I thought to switch things up a bit.” You flinched when his head appeared right on your shoulder. “What’d ya think?”
“It looks super comfy.” Adam wore a goofy grin behind you as you walked closer to the area and noticed that he already prepared snacks on the low table. “Is this a way to say you wanna do a movie marathon?”
“You know it, baby.” He flew past you and landed on the sofa, patting the space beside him with a smile you just couldn’t reject.
•••
Heaven’s natural light beginning to peek through the open windows indicated that it was already dawn. Thank goodness you didn’t have work today.
You two—or rather, Adam—had settled on watching the film series, Die Hard. Every single one. You didn’t mind, but you didn’t understand why Adam invited you over if you two were just going to rewatch the film series for the eighth time.
He had also been pretty immersed in the large screen in front of him, so he hadn’t attempted to converse with you ever since the first movie started. In all honesty, he could have just watched them all by himself.
But you didn’t question it. This time was the same as the last seven, after all. You always concluded that maybe he just wanted someone to watch movies with, no talking necessary. Even if the no-talking part sounded a bit out of character.
Was it though? Because he did that quite often. For instance, he constantly brought you along to whatever mundane errands he had to do during the weekdays and never really talked with you unless he found something cool and pointed it out.
Although, the earlier times you tagged along with him on his errands, he kept yapping his mouth off about the ‘totally awesome’ things he does. He talked about music, his own albums, his band, women, sex, and himself as the first-ever man.
As time went on, however, the talking was replaced with silence. You wondered if he just ran out of things to say or if he found it unnecessary to talk anymore.
You also sometimes wondered what was going through his head when he thought you didn’t see him glancing at you while he was doing something he believed was boring.
The sound of Adam’s stomach rumbling broke you out of your train of thought.
You both looked at each other blankly as if either of you were to blame.
He blinked to break the eye contact between you. “(Name), I’m hungry.”
You snorted, facing ahead. “You ate all of our snacks before the first movie even finished.”
“Don’t blame me.” He hugged the pillow he held tighter. “I’m still fuckin’ hungry, though.”
You hummed as you reached for your pocket. “Do you want me to—oh. I…I forgot my phone.” You frowned. You never forget to bring your belongings.
Adam merely stared at you, unblinking.
You averted your eyes and held your legs tighter. “Uhm, We could get delivery if you want. Can you lend me your phone?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” He casually tossed you the device before laying on his back and looking up at you. “I’m down for anything.”
His phone hit your knee before you could catch it, silently landing on the cushions. “Are you sure?” You picked it up, opened his unlocked phone, and stared at his basic home screen.
He didn’t really use his phone that often to know that it could be changed. He only really used it to fetch one-night stands or occasional dates, text, play music aloud, look at outdated memes, take random blurry photos, and right now, order delivery.
“Totally.” His crow’s feet displayed on his mask as he puffed out his cheeks.
“Because last time you said that, you didn’t like what I had to pick.”
“That’s because the 5 ʼn 2 is so fucking overrated!” he suddenly started to complain. Your wings ruffled. “Jeez, I swear, every fuckin’ time I take a chick out and ask her what her favorite eatery is, basic bitches always go, ‘Oh, bREaD & fIsH, ceRTAinLy’ or ‘bReAD & FiSh’S a cLAsSIC’” He used his hand as a puppet to imitate their words before waving it. “Like, helloooo? Can’t you see the joint that’s literally on the other side of the street’s a hundred times superior? It’s cheaper, too, unlike Bread & Fish. Overpriced ass. You get me, right—?”
“Then you pick!” Adam jumped at your volume, and your eyes widened upon noticing yourself. You quickly gave back his phone as you turned your face away from him, and he slowly took it with a weird look.
“Shit, chill, (Name). The fuck’s up your ass?” He kept his gaze on you before turning to his phone.
While he was serious about his opinions of your bland tastes, he didn’t think it was that personal. Your preferences were the same as everyone else and that was boring. He was just being honest. And you usually didn’t take the things he said that seriously.
“Adam, I’m sorry,” you spoke up after a moment of silence and ran a hand through your hair. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
“ʼs not a problem.” He was still a bit weirded out, but he was willing to shrug it off.
You insisted, however, “I mean it. I’m not mad at you.”
“Okay…?” he muttered when he saw a notification pop up from Lute. Her message consisted of how some of the exterminators got into a quarrel during roll call and the ones involved got injured in the process. She said she was going to discipline them.
Adam did not want to know what she meant by that and was most likely not going to stop by their place today.
“Really. I’m not. Sorry. It’s just that yesterday’s been…”
“Uh-huh…” At this point, Adam was not listening to anything you were saying. But when he still heard the static noise that was your words, he groaned. “Look, sweetie, I really don’t give a fuckin’ shit about your fuckin’ apology, ʼkay? I don’t fuckin’ care. Now what do you want?”
You saw Adam’s confused yet concerned expression after he looked up from his phone and immediately noticed that you were starting to cry. You instantly turned your face away as you carefully wiped your eyes.
“Sorry. Sorry. I’m not crying because of you.” You didn’t know if that was true. You didn’t know if you were crying because of his words or were crying because of everything else.
That was the first time he ever used a sweet petname for you in a long time. He only ever used that to demean or mock other people.
Shit. Stop thinking—you were going to cry more. But even after carefully wiping your eyes away, new tears kept flowing. You couldn’t stop. This was humiliating. You wanted to disappear. You didn’t want anyone to witness you in this state. It was mortifying.
“Shit.” Adam’s voice came out panicky as he held his hands out towards you, but he hesitated. Hesitated in what, he didn’t even know.
He…didn’t think you could cry.
Adam didn’t know what to do; this emotional shit wasn’t his thing. He couldn’t ask you to leave, he knew that much, but he didn’t want to leave himself. This was his place. Why should he leave?
So, he did the only thing he could do in this situation.
You suddenly felt something warm envelop you.
You didn’t look up, but you knew it was Adam. You could feel the texture of his robe on your hands and the side of your face. You could feel his hands on your shoulder blade, but you couldn’t quite feel his arms on you.
You stopped wiping your eyes for a moment.
No one had ever hugged you before when you were sad.
No one had ever let you be sad.
Adam heard you sob.
Fucking great. He made it worse. What the fuck was he supposed to do then?
But when he went to unwrap his arms, he felt yours slip around his midsection, pulling him closer than before as he grunted from your firm hold.
So you wanted to be hugged? Alright. Whatever.
Adam slowly hugged you back after you muttered a ‘sorry’ and loosened your grip.
The next seconds were silent, so when he heard muffled words coming from you, he looked down. You also looked up moments later when he didn’t respond, realizing he must’ve not heard you.
Your gaze softened as you two held eye contact, and with teary eyes, you smiled. “Thank you, Adam.”
Something about his expression changed, but before you could stare any longer, you felt a hand behind your head push you back to his chest as the arm on your back held you tight.
“Yeah, whatever…”
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liveontelevision · 15 days
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Hi! I wasnt exactly sure if you’re taking request but i was hoping for something with Lucifer and a babysitter reader. Maybe they baby sat Charlie, and they just have a lot of tension. And then maybe them reuniting after him and lilith have split and it all goes down 👀
Love your slowburny Lucifer fics 🙏🙏
!!!
First off, thank you! I'm really glad you enjoy my stuff! I've been struggling with writing recently, so your request was perfectly timed lol
Also Yes! I'm always taking requests!
Plus, it's such a good request.. so good, I had way too many ideas for how it could go. So - this is a 2 parter >:) Suffer
CW: No smut yet, just suggestive fluff for now
Suffer | Lucifer x Reader
It really was a happy day in Hell when the royals introduced an heir to the throne. A darling daughter, who was the first of her kind; A hellborn baby, birthed by a sinner and an archangel. No one really knew what to expect or what kind of powers she held. But they had to be immense. She had to be some kind of beast, based on her genes alone. In theory. 
One look at her, all swaddled up in her mother's arms, Lucifer fell in love all over again. Sure, he was ecstatic to hear that he was having a child, but he didn't realize how much of an effect she’d have on him. She was an absolute angel. Mostly. Great powers must be controlled, and that isn't exactly something an infant can comprehend. It was innocent at first, with little fireworks coming from fingertips, toys being lost in portals, and horns and tails emerging during temper tantrums. Nothing a good nanny couldn't fix. 
That’s what Lillith’s mindset was, at least. It was a heated debate between the married couple, with Lucifer arguing a child needs to be loved and adored by their parents. He was willing to put in the time, why wasn't she? Of course, Lilith was a busy demon, with the whole empowering demonkind with her voice and songs thing, but too busy to handle her own baby?
“She’s gonna be an adult before we know it. Can’t you spend a few decades seeing her grow up..?” Lillith delicately takes her cutlery to her mouth, picking at the dinner she shared with her husband, who was seated on the other end of their lengthy table.
“Unlike you, my love, I have duties to attend to. Someone has to keep things running smoothly, to keep every demon’s hopes as high as they can be. You remember what it was like falling, being all alone and left in an unfamiliar world? I wouldn't want anyone else to feel that way. Would you?” He hated to agree, but did so anyway. She always knew what to say to make him feel guilty. Either way, she was right. He really didn't do much nowadays. He worked in his shop more, his newborn daughter becoming a great source of inspiration, but Lillith handled most of the publicity. Which, in Hell, is one of the only purposes for royalty. Lucifer didn't need to create life anymore, Hellborn creations were multiplying just fine. Probably a little too much, actually. He had all the free time in the world to shower his daughter with affection. 
“ I mean..! I guess not, but they're filthy little demons, and this is your daughter! You want to leave her in the hands of some stranger? It’s just.. not right..! She needs a mother, Lily!” He was clearly passionate about this. Slamming his fists on the table, he sent ripples through the poured wine in front of Lillith’s plate.
“Lucifer. You’re causing a scene.” He hated when she said that, too. And again, he shrunk back in his seat, keeping his mouth shut. They had been drifting apart for a while, the distance not doing them any favors. He had no interest in interacting with demonkind and was fully comfortable with letting Lillith take that on, so they became more distant as she tended to Hell’s growing population.
When she rose from her seat, he finally perked up, hoping to meet her eyes. She was already halfway out of the room. “I’ll do all the work, darling, not to worry. I’ll make sure any candidate is thoroughly interviewed and trained, I promise.” Her voice was reassuring, even with the heartless subject matter. Leaving Lucifer alone in the room with some imps that usually stand along the walls, he spotted her almost untouched plate. pushing away from the table, he nearly knocked his heavy, ornamented chair onto the ground and left through another exit.
“Oh, Charlie.. Your mother loves you very much.” He swung the bundled-up baby in his arms, reveling in the sound of her giggles. Pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, he placed her carefully in her golden crib. Standing over her, he leaned onto the railing, watching her large red eyes flutter shut. “And.. I will shelter and adore you, sweetheart. I love you, more than anything.” He wiped a little tear that began to well up in his eye when he spoke and struggled to finally pull himself away. Protecting himself from his intrusive thoughts, he held his arms across his chest and turned to leave her nursery.
“Aww, that was so sweet..” The figure leaning in the doorframe caused him to let out a startled yelp. “Who the Hell.. You have to leave, whoever you are.” He became immediately defensive, holding his hand away from the crib in some form of protection, but he still spoke in a hushed voice. If you were just an imp he wouldn't be as worked up, but you were a sinner. A sinner who suddenly appeared in his daughter’s room. “O-oh! Um, sorry, I thought the queen would’ve.. I’m your new nanny..?” You let out a nervous chuckle, shrugging your tensed shoulders. And now? You’re admitting you're the very demon who’ll be raising his daughter alongside him. He dropped his arms, letting out a scoff, clearly unenthused. Looking you up and down, he stood there staring daggers. After a moment of awkward silence, you held out your hand to shake his, but he didn’t respond to it.
“What are your qualifications? Where did you come from? What makes you think you’re worthy of laying hands on my daughter? The princess of Hell?” He circled you, in an attempt to intimidate you, despite his small stature. “Well, um... When I was alive, I was the oldest kid at the foster house I grew up in. It wasn’t the best facility, so I basically raised most of the girls there.. I’ve seen it all, I guarantee.” You tried to lighten the mood with a quick smile, but it didint do much. “And Lillith approves of you?” You nodded, gripping the hem of your skirt nervously. “Hm. I am not as easily swayed as my wife. She’s my daughter, too. You’ll have to do better than - “ An ear-piercing wale comes from behind him. The commotion must've woken Charlie up. “Oh! No no nono..” His demonic presence faded to reveal what he really was. A father. He scooped her up and cooed, hushing her and swaying her slowly. It did nothing to help. That’s when another fact clicked in your mind; he wasn’t just a father, he was a new father. He lets out a nervous groan, wiping tears away from her heated cheeks.
“Your majesty..?” You slowly approached him, both of you still on edge. “May I?” He was clearly still debating the idea, but another loud wail had him hesitantly passing the swaddled child to your arms. He had such a light hold on her, you noticed his hands trembling when he finally released her into your grasp. You held her close, her front against your chest as you hummed in a low tone a little tune. You picked up a little trick, the vibrations from your chest helped calm her down. The action of swaying the baby and engrossing yourself in the little song running through your head actually calmed the both of you. You still spoke softly, in a low tone, “Thank you, sir. For trusting me with her, i mean. I’ll be here for anything you need. Anything she needs.” You sent him a warm smile. He simply nodded his head slowly, still witnessing the miracle that is someone with experience caring for a child. Maybe this could work out.. What could go wrong?
“I’m gonna getcha!” A high-pitched giggle filled the corridors of the manor, Lucifer rounds the corner to follow after his surprisingly speedy toddler. He was mostly having fun with this little game of tag but was also mildly concerned by her growing distance. “Gotcha!” A pair of arms swooped down from around another corner, scooping Charlie up as she let out a playful yelp. You held her in a tight hug, before adjusting your position to hold her up comfortably. Lucifer panted, smiling at the sight of you and his daughter, despite him being out of breath. “G-good catch.. Hoof..!” He stretches his arms upwards, then places them on the small of his back. “Aren’t you the most powerful being in Hell? Why are you acting like a middle-aged dad with a broken back?” you laughed through your words, the sound making Charlie laugh along. He stood up straight and crossed his arms over his chest, a pout on his face. “Uh, It’s for fun? Ever heard of playing pretend?” You bit your lip to prevent yourself from mocking him anymore. “Don’t laugh!” You shook your head, then watched him open his arms out to you. Or, to Charlie, actually, but you stepped back instead of handing her over. “Oh, I forgot to remind you, you actually have to head to the Heaven Embassy in a bit, so I’m gonna put Charlie down for her nap instead.” He dropped his arms and grimaced. “Right..”
This mid-day nap was a sort of tradition for Lucifer and his daughter. It was one of the few moments that Lucifer looked forward to these days. You knew that. As much as you enjoyed your job, it came with the unfortunate privilege of seeing Lucifer in his slumps. You rarely saw Lillith, actually, but that made sense. You were only here for Charlie while Lillith couldnt be. When you did spot her iin passing, you’d hand Charlie over and let the two of them have a sweet interaction, usually a quick hug and peck on the forehead, but that was usually it. You’d always notice Charlie clinging onto your shoulder and looking back in her mother’s direction whenever she handed her daughter back to you. It always crushed your heart to hear her go silent after those moments.
“Actually, I was wondering if you’d want to help get her ready for the gala tonight? You should be back in time and it won't take long. Lilith only wants her to make a quick appearance, so it shouldn't be too much work.. Good bonding moment, too!” His eyes sparkled at your invitation and he was quick to accept it. “Thank you, dear. I’ll find you after that meeting.” As he goes to walk past you, he places a hand on your back. He does this often, but as the years went on, it shifted from your shoulder to your shoulderblade, and now he delicately places his hand on your lower back whenever he can. It made you anxious at first.. Was anxious the right word? Either way, you didn't stop him.
He leaned in to place a kiss on Charlie’s forehead, becoming increasingly close to your own face. It wasn't a quick motion. He pressed a dramatic kiss onto her head, letting out a mwah! sound as he pulled back. But before he did, he looked up to you with half-lidded eyes. The eye contact seemed to last forever. And you ever wanted it to stop. A small hand came up and patted Lucifer’s cheek, a childish giggle breaking the moment between you two. What were you thinking? He’s your employer, he’s a king. He’s kind, and sweet, and tries really hard to be a good dad. Nope! Stop it.
“Right! Meeting! Heaven! Gonna.. Yup, I’ll see you.. Uh..” You finished off his words, “ - tonight?”
“Exactly! You got it! Bye, Darling!” He waved his hand off and walked off in a random direction that you were pretty sure didn't lead to where he was supposed to go. “I-I was talking to Charlie, by the way!” You heard from around the corner. You couldn’t stop your laughter with that one. “I know.” You said it softly, not letting him hear the slight disappointment in your voice.
The Gala wasn't a new event, Lillith held them often. Lucifer made his appearance with Charlie, then usually would make up some excuse to get out of the room. Gathering the leaders of each ring of Hell and some of the more powerful overlords, and demons, it was still a big deal. You dressed up Charlie often, since she would throw a temper tantrum when any of the stylists would try to get her ready. You didn't mind, you actually enjoyed prettying her up. You stalled for as long as you could, before beginning to dress her. You wanted to wait for Lucifer, but you assumed he got caught up in some kingly duties. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Don’t be upset. Stop missing him.
“Sorry - Sorry! I'm here!” The blonde demon rounds the corner, hopping on his one foot to balance himself before stopping firmly in Charlie's room. He was wearing an incredibly elegant suit. A dark purple sash cinches His waist, which was only visible because his jacket was hung over his shoulder. His shirt was speckled in gold, matching his hair when under certain light. “Had to convince them I could finish getting ready on my own! Damn stylists, can't catch a break with them.” He let out an awkward laugh, followed by a hoot. He sees Charlie, in her dark purple dress, with small poofed out sleeves, made of a transparent tool. “Charchar! Look at you, kiddo!” He scooped her up and held her close while he swung around. “You're beautiful, sweetheart.” He knew she wouldn't understand that until she was older, but never stopped him from praising her.
He pressed his forehead against hers, laughing along with her. You hated to break the tender moment, but you cleared your throat, bringing the attention back to you. “She's just about ready, just got her hair left.” He placed her back in the chair as you went for a brush. Working through her hair piece by piece, Lucifer suddenly stopped you. “Um.. can I try?” You nodded eagerly, handing the brush over. He swiped slowly, ebing startled by the crunch of a knot, he froze and pulled it away. “It’s okay, you won't hurt her - “ You didn't need to help him this way. Honestly, if anyone were to come in and witness this you could be fired. Still keeping that in mind, you place your hand over his, and guide the brush indirectly, to carefully work through her hair.
After far too long, you pulled your hand away and went to grab some other accessories. His brain was completely fried by the interaction, if this were some looney cartoon, smoke would be puffing out his ears. You weren't as calm as you were coming off as either. Why did you do that? You’d face a fate worse than a second death if anyone saw that. After letting your face cool down, you turned back and bumped Lucifer over with your hip, to take his spot directly behind Charlie. Placing your hands on her shoulders and kneeling down a bit you smile at her reflection. “What do we think, hun? Ponytail? Pigtails? Buns?”
“Braids!” You look at her with a questioning hum. “Pleease!” Braids it is. You start to section off her hair and quickly wrap one clean braid down her back. It only took you a few minutes to do it, leaving bystander Lucifer to sit in awe. He did that a lot. Whenever you’d do something with Charlie that came as second nature to you, he would watch intently. After you noticed his gaze, you began showing him how to do whatever task you had on hand. He needed those moments with her, you knew that. “Wanna give it a shot?” He jumps, as if you had just caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. “A-Are you sure? It looks kind of complicated, I don't want to ruin her hair if - “ You interrupted his nervous rambling by calling out his title. “I’ll show you, just come watch.” He nodded, almost too quickly, and rushed to stand near you. Very near you. He stood close enough to let your shoulders touch whenever you would lift your arm a certain way. You unfurled the braid you had already done, making Lucifer let out a little sound of disappointment, that you’d ruined your hard work just for him. After attempting to explain it, he manages to struggle his way through a messy braid. He saw you holding in some kind of laugh and sent you daggers.  “No - no! It’s good! Especially for your first time, it’s holding up pretty well! Here - “ You pulled the braid back out, then restarted it, letting him pick it up at an easier place. You took his wrists every so often, to turn his hand in the proper direction before letting him go on.
The focus between the two of you suddenly became intense. He stuck out his tongue a bit, too engrossed in his styling to notice. You stood behind him, your hands pressed on his back, while you stood on your tip toes to observe what he was doing from over his shoulder. Pointing out little pieces of hair that were falling out, you would reach out your pointer finger to gesture towards it, only bringing you a bit closer together.
“Is.. Is that it?” He stepped back slowly, giving you the chance to back away with him. You swung around and examined the braid that he had probably spent too much time on, with an overly dramatic hum. Tapping your chin and squinting your eyes, you researched the braid as if it were some puzzle to solve. “It looks great, Lucifer.” Looking towards him, you were expecting an overly confident grin at the acknowledged accomplishment but instead, was met with a wide-eyed bundle of nerves.
“Sir! I-It looks good, Sir! Well - I’ll let you finish getting ready and take Charlie to -” Reaching out your hands to pick Charlie up, Lucifer stops you by grabbing your arm. “It’s okay! I mean, that’s.. That’s my name! Makes sense for you to call me that, considering its my name, so - “ He lets you go and starts fiddling with the clasps on his sleeves. “It’s okay.. for you to do that..” You smile to yourself, going back to tidying up Charlie’s get-up, doing little things like putting on her darling little shoes and tying a ribbon at the end of her hair.
Lucifer then stood in front of the mirror, brushing off his shirt and slipping on his jacket. It was a dazzling plum-colored suit coat, with golden clasps across his torso, and a golden shoulder plate, that allowed a sheer cape to drape down his left side. He was absolutely stunning. You did your best to avert your eyes, staring at him felt like staring at the sun. You only turned in his direction when he cleared his throat to get your attention. “Sorry.. dear, but uh… If you’re done with Charlie, I just - I’m struggling a little bit here..” You watched him attempt to adjust his lopsided tie, finally drooping his head with a sigh of defeat. “Wow, I thought you wore one of those every day, what’s the problem?” The teasing always helped lighten the mood, you placed your hand on your hip as you leaned your weight onto the vanity.  He glared at you again, letting out a huff before mumbling under his breath. “It’s a clip on..”
You let out a breath you had been holding in, partially from keeping in your laughter, but mostly from the nerves. With the combination of you wearing house slippers, and him wearing his particularly taller pair of boots, he managed to look down at you when you approached him. You should've made it a quick motion, you’ve tied bowties dozens of times, so it definitely wasn't a new task for you. But instead, you took your time. You carefully traced your hands up to his neck, tugging on both ends to pull it as far forward as it could go. You stopped to straighten the collar of his shirt, then delicately knotted the tie with ease. Your breath became heavier when you rested your hands on the finally tied bow, feeling his heart pounding against the side of your palm. After he caught you in your act, he stepped back, the image of his wife suddenly popping into his head. “Ahha.. Well, um - Thank you. I’ll take Charlie, it’s about that time anyway!”
"R-Right.." you suddenly felt guilty for your actions, worrying that you overstepped some lines. He didn't seem upset or uncomfortable, he was just silent. As he lifted Charlie from her chair, the vision of the two of them left you breathless. A beautiful pair, with porcelain skin contrasting against a palette of muted purples, and the biggest, brightest eyes. Charlie's braid hung loosely down her back, same golden strands accented in the light off the room. You almost wanted to be in the moment with them.
"Hey, so.. if you think you have time, you're welcome to go down to the ballroom for a drink or.. something... if you want." He really had to consider if that was a good idea. The thought was sitting on his mind while he enjoyed the view of your focused expression on his tie. He watched your eyes light up at the notion, his heart swelling with.. with something.  "Oh! I mean - The queen talks about it like it's this big important fancy thing, but.. if you think it'll be okay.. I'll - um - " She thought for a moment, looking around the room. "I don't exactly have anything to wear.. I'll join next time, if the invites still open?" You smiled, but it was strained. And he could tell. "No problem! I'll have her find something for you, then you can slip in whenever you want. No pressure!"
With a wave of his hand, a little imp girl came from a portal he had conjured up. Peeking inside, you saw a vast collection of gowns. The imp took your hand and dragged you in silently. You stumbled, then stammered something out, something that should've been a thank you, or a show of appreciation, but you were too stunned by the situation. He waved, then Charlie waved, then the two were out of the room.
The picture of them together ran through your mind. Not just them in matching outfits, but whenever he would press his forehead against hers, or he would show off his horns when Charlie was prodding at her own. Or when they really seemed like a family. Lillith was never in those pictures. Fuck, don't be jealous. You're getting paid far too much money to feel anything like that. Plus, you're being treated to an elegant evening gown without even asking. You don't get to be jealous.
Luckily, the imp rolled out a rack of dresses, it was stuffed to the brim, but was still a more manageable collection compared to the entire room. You sifted through them, and each one that twisted your face, she took off the hanger and set aside. After narrowing it down, you were stuck on two dresses; a sultry red dress, with an incredibly high slit and a stretched velvet material that hugged you in all the right places. Definitely a head turner. Even if this gala had a V.I.P list, maybe some handsome individual could help you distract yourself.
But the other option was a glistening lavender color, the neckline went across your shoulders, turning to gloves that tapered at your knuckles. A sheer corset held your curves in place, and it was paired with pearl accessories, to go with your sleek white heels. Both were gorgeous of course, but turning your hips and taking in how you looked in that lavender gown.. you could see yourself fitting quite nicely into your mental picture of Lucifer and Charlie. You would never admit that's why you picked it. You were prettied up, your hair pulled to one side with pearl clips scattered within the strands, and a little touch of makeup that you really didnt want, but was convinced without a word by the stylist. You looked like royalty. And that made you feel good in so many ways.
Lucifer said you could "sneak in", and you thought it best to take that literally. Waving and greeting all the workers in the kitchen that you knew, you finally slipped through the door where the caterers traveled from. You went straight for the bar, not because you needed a drink - well, I'm sure that's part of it - but because you had no idea what to do. What, were you supposed to walk straight up to Lucifer? Or Lillith? The idea of seeing Lillith suddenly made your stomach churn. You realized that you actually got there in time to see the introductions for most of the more esteemed guests. They went through the sins, who were larger than life, then a flared announcement for the Morningstar family was belted out.
Lucifer stood with a devilish grin, looking handsome as always. Lillith was still stunning, her gown trailing behind her.. but it was black. It wasn’t purple, or plum, or lilac, it was just black. It may not have looked like a contrast to everyone, but it upset you for some reason. Charlie stood between them, looking incredibly calmed considering the intensity of the moment. Lillith was holding her small hand, but the difference in height made her strain to keep their fingers intertwined. You cringed watching her stand on the tip of her toes to keep contact with her own mother.
Quietly, as to not interupt the announcements, you beckoned the bartender to bring you a drink. You sat and sipped, your back arched as you leaned your weight onto your elbows. What were you doing here? Was this all worth it? To have your little Cinderella transformation? 
"Hello, darling.. and who might you be?" A sultry voice came from behind, causing you to swivle in the chair to face where it came from. It wasn't Lucifer, which left you mildly disapointed, but you definitely weren't upset at the curvy woman standing in front of you, wearing a dress that left nothing to the imagination. The swishing demonic tail wasn't something you hated either. A real fox.
"Oh, a friend invited me, I didnt want to cramp his style, so here I am." As you spoke, the bartender brings a tall flute of champagne over to the gorgeous demon in front of you. She glides to sit in the seat next to you. "Hm - well, I'd hate to see you all alone tonight, mind if I keep you company, love?" She slid her fingers up your arm and you have no idea how you managed to keep your cool. "Not at all~" maybe it was the confidence of your new appearance, but you had no issue with spending the night with this stranger.
All of a sudden, Charlie was plopped into your seated lap, causing you to look up towards an intimidating Lucifer. Examining the sudden shift in mood, you were relieved to see Lillith talking to some demons on the other side of the room. "Glad you could make it! Charlie here - reeaally missed you, thought I should say hi." He smile was forced, you noticed a slight twitch in his eye. "Ah, I see you've met my nanny! Quite a beauty, wouldn't you agree?" Lucifer came incredibly close to you, leaning in and placing his hand on your back. The only issue was the low cut of the dress, allowing you to feel his warm hands on your skin. You hoped he didn't feel the shiver run up your spine.
Taking a hold of Charlie as she climbed up your lap to hug your neck, you let out a natural laugh, feeling like yourself for the first time tonight. Looking back to your conquest, who was definitely about to ask you to "get out of here", you see a face of absolute disgust. Oh, right. You're just a sinner to these higher ups. And a working class one at that. Nanny wasn't the most flattering occupation apparently. She made a terrible excuse to get out of the conversation and walked away a little faster than she should've.
"Sir! I have no problem watching Charlie tonight, but - I was about to -" your face flushed as you tried to explain how you were just trying to get laid tonight. “Get a drink, right? Make sure you stick to the non-alchoomic stuff, hun, sounds like Charlie gets to stay up late tonight!" With a hefty pat on your back, Lucifer stepped away to talk to another random demon. What the fuck? Lucifer had beckoned the bartender over again, and when you looked back to the counter, you see a sad looking soda water. With a sigh, you guzzle the drink just to wet your dried throat.
As much a you loved Charlie, there was no better chick repellant. And even for the brave souls who decided to approach you and still show interest, Lucifer would suddenly appear, keeping his hand just above your tailbone as he mentioned your hard work as his employee. Maybe it was the word nanny, or the intimidating presence of the king of Hell, but he had to be doing this on purpose. You kind of hoped he was doing this on purpose.. After one too many fleeting suitors, you worked your magic and calmed Charlie until she fell asleep in your arms. You hummed a little tune again, the method was something she became accustomed to after you started taking care of her.
"My my~ what a sweetheart." A broad shouldered demon approached you, his lower voice ringing throughout your chest. "Isn't she? She's exhuasted, I should really get her to bed." You never took your eyes off of Charlie, making it easy for him to slip a hand around your waist." Ah, you’re her caretaker, hm? Well.. what do you have going on after you get her to bed?" His hand trails down to your hips, starting to trace a circle with his thumb. You swung away, a look of disgust on your face." Probably going to bed. By myself." You hissed. You never had a problem handling those kind of advances, and you'd do anything to keep Charlie safe, so you kept your distance. "You don't have to do that, baby~ why don't you show me around the Morningstar manor?" He closed the distance, and as you go to step back, your back hits the bar. "N-No thanks, I'm.. not..." You would have gotten nervous in the moment, if you didnt see a blonde headed angel approaching with horns threatening to burst out.
"Stay away from her." A small puff of flames came from Lucifer's snarl as he reprimanded the thug. He scoffed and stepped away as if nothing had happened. Probably the smartest thing for him to do at this point. Lucifer's suddenly glowing red eyes returned to their normal hue once he turned his attention to you. You froze in place. It felt like you were in trouble too. "You're okay?" He spoke blankly, you couldn't tell what emotion he was trying to convey, let alone how he actually feels. You nodded, keeping a hand on the back of Charlie's head." Get her to bed." With a dramatic turn, his transparent cape flew behind him and he returned to Lillith's side. He placed his hand on the small of her back.
You wanted to cry. To scream and drink until you can't think of anything. Charlie was your main priority, though. You took her to her nursery as soon as you could. Carefully changing her into her pajamas, a cute little onesie with ducks printed all over, then placed the drowsy toddler into her bed. "Oh Charlie.. You are so lucky to be so loved." You spoke geniunely, no matter your feelings, the amount of love Charlie is given and how much she gives in return was always so unbelievable to you. She was made of pure joy. Brushing some hair away from her face, you stepped back, taking your time on returning to your room.
"That is so sweet." You shot your head up, unpleasantly surprised by Lucifer's sorry face. "She's in bed, what do you need from me?" You spoke softly, as to not wake her. "You look beautiful. I just.. didn't get a chance to say that earlier, is all." Your face twisted in digust. "You know, you weren't the only one who thought that tonight. That was the first time I've been hit on in months. Couldn't you let me just enjoy the night..?" You were becoming increasingly frustrated, and it was translating clearly through your words. He flinched at your aggression, suddenly becoming defensive.
"That filfthy demon was feeling you up..! What else did you want me to do?" He started to match your energy, quietly responding in an aggitated state." Not him, the rest! I was about to leave with that lady at the bar, and I'm sure others would've enjoyed my company if I wasn't getting handed a toddler every second." You'd regret that one later, referring to Charlie as just a toddler. "That's your job, dear. Remember why you're here." He puffed out his chest, becoming increasingly close to your figure. You shrunk away, your eyes widened at his words.
"Oh- Oh, no, I didn't mean to - wait, I wasn't - " He stammered, his intimidating stature immediatly dropping as he say your eyes start to glaze over with tears, which only flowed down your cheeks after batting your made-up lashes. "Nonono! Please don't cry I - um.. " his eyes darted around the room, before reaching his arms out and reeling you in to a tightening embrace. Your chin sat on his shoulder, the shock momentarily keeping the water works at bay.
"I got nervous, okay..? I didn't want anything.. bad... to happen. I didn't want to lose you in there." Those words shouldn't tug at your heart strings at much as they did, but that and the low rumble of his voice just slightly hitting your ear made it impossible.
"I-I can handle myself.." You sniffled, your breath becoming heavier as you felt his hands start to explore your back. He rested one hand on the small of your back, sending a familiar warmth to your chest. But then, his fingers traced upwards, holding onto your shoulders for a moment, before lightly clawing down your bare back. He traced over a certain spot that tickled you the wrong  way, causing you to force out a little yelp. You both stopped for a moment, the only thing you could hear was the uneven pants coming from your mouths. He pulled away for a moment, keeping his hands on your shoulders. Then eyeing you up and down, he ran his grasp across the length of your arms. "I known you can.. you're wonderful." He somehow spoke as if he was completely unaffected by the intimacy he was just showing you. Your breath only picked up more, instantly regretting what you were about to do.
With a small leap, you pulled him in by his collar and messily met his lips. It couldn't be a quick peck, that's too confusing. You wanted this to last forever. He kept his lips sealed shut at first, but that didn't last long. With a shakey breath against your lips, he pulled you in by your waist suddenly, bringing you as close to him as he could. The motion took the air out of your lungs, forcing you release a vocal sigh. He only held you tighter after that. Your arms trailed up and around his shoulders, combing through the hairs at the nape of his neck. He broke for a moment, his kisses traveling down your lips to your jawline, then down to your neck.
Flicking your hair back, he latched an incredibly wet kiss on the softness of your neck. Lucifer took the invitation of your strapless dress to fully cover you in kisses, occasionally running his tongue up the length of your neck. A panting mess, you pulled him back up by his chin, finally getting a good look at his face. He was falling apart at the seems. He looked desperate to get back to working on your neck, like he hadnt been intimate with anyone in years. You needed his lips against yours again. Holding his jaw, you pressed a kiss on his lips, then squeezed your thumb amd index finger to open his lower jaw and push your tongue into his mouth. He let out a nervous moan, before quickly catching up to you.
This wasn’t right. This part wasn't in your mental picture of a perfect family. And you knew why. Your thoughts were silenced, feeling his mouth trail back down to your collarbone. He thumbed at the top of your long glove, beginning to pull it down. God, never let this moment end.
But you forgot. You're in Hell.
With a frantic patting on his shoulder, you quickly attempted to get his attention. When Lucifer met your eyes again, they had gone wide, and he finally noticed you shaking. "Hey, hey! What is it? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"
"Yes." He froze. He slowly turned his head to the door. Lillith.
"Darling, please, I'm sorry, you know you're the only one for me - it was a long night, mistakes were made, let's just move on, hm..?" He was begging for this moment to be over, as Lillith moved past him and approached you. You had to crane your neck to look at her, your entire body trembling. You had mascara running down your eyes, and your lipstick had smeared in all directions. Lillith lifted your head up even further, wiping some smudged lipstick from the corner of your mouth. "Lily..?" Lucifer let out softly. She let out a soft sigh. She didn't seem to be angry, which seemed to make you more nervous than if she was. "D-Don’t.. don't hurt her..." It's like he was scared to stick up for you. That, and the fact that he just called this past interaction a mistake, weighed heavily on your heart. "You think that little of me, my love? I would never. It was a mistake, after all, just as you said." She spoke so calmly but knew exactly what to say to make you cower in fear. You let out a pathetic whimper, "P-Please... I'm s-sorry, Your Highness..." She smiled and tightened her grip on your jaw for a moment before letting you go. You didn't realize she was actually lifting you up slightly until you were dropped down. “So.. we can talk and figure this out, right? Lily?" She kept her eyes off of the anxious mess that Lucifer was becoming." Of course, love. We'll talk in the morning. Oh, and obviously - " She turned towards you just before leaving the room. 
"You're fired.”
HA
Anyway, there is absolutely a part 2 for this don't worry and I'll get to it.. eventually.
!Taglist!
( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood )
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dollfacefantasy · 1 month
Text
Kiss It Better
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader
summary: on a day planned to be just for just you and leon, he gets called into work. it dredges up some old memories, and upon returning home, he wants to make it better by taking extra care of his baby bunny.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, cockwarming, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, hurt/comfort, reader copes with her past at the shelter
word count: 6.1k
a/n: yay leon and his baby bunny finally return. i hope this lives up to the first part lol which can be found here. i have another part planned as well if people are interested. as always reblogs and comments mean the world <3
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“I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny.”
A statement Leon had said off-hand in the heat of the moment. Something he’d told you as a comfort, a way of warming you up for your first intimate moments together. He hadn’t put much thought into it before it rolled out of his mouth. 
But damn, if only he’d known how true it would prove to be.
The words were ringing through his head right now as you dragged him through the mall on another Saturday he dedicated entirely to spending time with you. He’d already bought you a fair amount of stuff from cute frilly socks to pretty pink panties to some tiny t-shirts he knew he’d regret as soon as you used one to get your way. And now you were heading towards a shop tucked away in the farthest corner of the shopping center. His only hope was that the location meant it was the end of the line, the last stop on your trip.
From what he could see, it sold stuffed animals amongst other items that could clutter up his house. Luckily, the small plush toys seemed to be the only things drawing your attention. Your eyes scanned the rows before fixating on a specific one that sat on the bottom shelf. You crouched down to get and pulled it to your chest, standing up again so Leon could see your selection. His eyes soften as he notices your little cottontail twitching with excitement.
He can’t help the smile that spreads on his face at the sight. His sweet girl standing there with a small plush cow in her arms. The tufts of black and white fur jutted out the top of its head near a set of foamy horns. You looked up at him with puppy eyes, which he’d come to view as unfair since he’d chosen a bunny for a reason. But they worked on him all the same.
“Baby-” he starts, but you interject, predicting his argument.
“I don’t have a cow yet,” you plead, “It’s just one more.”
“Yeah, this one is just one more. And so is the next one, and the one after that, and the one after fifty more of these things,” he teases.
“C’mon, please,” you beg, stepping close to him to lean against his chest.
“Is this your way of telling me you want your own bed again? You’re just gonna fill the one we share with more and more of these until there’s no room and I’m pushed to the floor,” he jokes.
“No,” you deny, “Plus I put them away at night anyways.”
“Most of them,” he corrects.
“Cause I need my bear to sleep,” you say with a little pout.
He swears he almost swoons. You’re too fucking cute. He knows he’s spoiled you rotten. You’re treated better than the average hybrid to put it lightly, but he was past the point of paying that any mind. That shelter he’d picked you up from never let you have stuff like this. In his mind, he was righting their wrongs, burying those sad memories with as much cute shit as he could afford. And if other people didn’t approve, if they thought he should keep you silent and on a leash, he couldn’t care less.
Looking down at you now, playfully pleading with him for that stuffed animal, he knew he could never treat you like that. He rolls his eyes and messes with your hair, gently scratching the base of your floppy ears.
“Fine,” he says, “One more.”
You all but cheer with your excitement, bouncing up to give him a fat kiss on the cheek. He takes the stuffie from you and walks to the register to pay for it. You walk, lacing your hand with his and swinging your arms back and forth.
He looks over at you and instantly remembers why he always ends up giving in. Why he can never say no. Now that you had opened up, he couldn’t get enough of you. He’d loved you before that day a few months ago, the day when he’d caught you during your attempt at self-soothing with his pillow between your legs. But since that day, a whole new layer of you had been revealed to him. The sweet and shy bunny he’d met at the shelter touched his heart first, but the affectionate and needy girl you’d allowed him to see owned it now.
He pays for your little cow, adding another bag to the collection hanging from his arm, and leads you out of the store. You tuck yourself under his arm, clinging to his abdomen.
“Thank you, daddy,” you say quietly and press a kiss to his chest.
His heart throbs at the sound of the sweet name you’d attributed to him months ago. He has to remind himself that you’re in public before any other part of his body reacts.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says and strokes one of your ears with his free hand.
Once the pair of you reach his car, he loads your stuff in before giving you a pat on the ass as you climb in the front seat. You’re all smiles, and he couldn’t feel better. He gets in the driver’s seat and switches the car on. Your hand goes for the controls to the music right away. He always let you pick when you were with him. Each song acted as a little glimpse into you and what you liked.
As you’re selecting one you like, he feels a buzz in his pocket. He fishes his phone out as you share some of the stuff you like about the song you put on. You then start asking him where you’re going next, but the plans slowly begin to unravel as he reads the message displayed over the picture of you he had as his screensaver.
“Shit…” he mutters to himself before looking back up at you. Your ears droop in tandem with his face dropping. “Baby, I gotta drop you back at the house. I gotta take care of some stuff at work for a bit.”
He sees the disappointment in your eyes, and it kills him.
“But… I thought you took the day off,” you say. Your mood rapidly depletes. It wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t fair. This was supposed to be a day where he was all yours. Twenty four hours where the D.S.O. laid no claim on him.
“I did, but I’ve told you how it is sometimes. I can’t get out of it some days,” he says.
“But you already stayed late all week. What else do they even need you for?” you ask. It may be irrational, but you can’t help how your mind floods with a sense of abandonment in the moment. You knew Leon would never do that, but the years you spent in that shelter had done a good job of convincing you otherwise.
“Just some formality stuff. I’ll be as quick as I can. You know I wouldn’t choose working over being with you,” he says.
Now he’s the one pleading. Your ears are flat on your head, and your eyes are fixed on your seat below you. He knows you feel wounded now even though you’re holding it in.
“If you’re mad it’s ok,” he whispers and reaches out to stroke your jawline, “You can be upset, honey. I won’t get mad at you. I know you were excited about today.”
As much as you had opened up, he could tell you still shied away from showing too much negative emotion. He knew you’d gone through some punishments at the shelter you were still too scared to talk about.
“It’s not your fault,” you say and shrug, dejection all over your features.
He sighs and starts the car, pulling out of the parking space, and heading towards the house. “I know it’s not, but you can still let out some frustration. I wouldn't think you’re ungrateful if that’s what you’re worried about. You wouldn’t get in trouble,” he says, keeping his tone gentle.
You bring your feet up onto the seat and retreat into yourself a bit. With a simple shake of your head, he knows the topic has closed.
He lets out a quiet sigh as he drives down the road.  It drips with the frustration that he’s letting you down. He can’t reach inside your head and pull out the negative effects of the shelter. He can’t tell the D.S.O. to fuck off and let him spend as many hours as he wants with his precious girl. All he can do is pull into the driveway and watch you get out of the car, your posture slightly slumped with the encroaching feelings of loneliness. You pull your shopping bags from the car. At least you give him a little parting kiss so he doesn’t feel completely emaciated.
He watches your sad trudge into the house before taking the car back out of the driveway and down the same road in the opposite direction.
Inside the house, the silence dominates you. You pad down the hallway to the bedroom that had once belonged solely to Leon. Dropping the bags of clothes near the door, you then hop on the bed and toss your new little cow up near your other pillows. Your eyes linger on the ceiling. You’d become familiar with the insignificant bumps and ridges above that provided a distraction on sleepless nights. Nights where you just needed to tune everything out and count them to avoid being haunted by the past.
Before Leon had taken you in, you always imagined you’d enjoy the quiet of a real home. The shelter always echoed with loud cries of sorrow, screams of anger, and whimpers of hopelessness. You’d lie on the thin mattress tucked in the corner of your area and try to dream of the days your bed would be lush with pillows and blankets, decorated how you liked and  surrounded by the peace of you and whoever had chosen to love you.
And now those days have come. They’re real. You didn’t have to deal with the constant atmosphere of despair or the looming threat of punishment for acting like a human being. So why was it so easy for you to tumble into sadness like this? Why did the quiet no longer mean sanctuary but rather the absence of the person you loved most in this world? You could never work it out. It was too hard. Any time you tried you ended up spiraling into even more self loathing. Because there’s nothing to be sad about anymore. There’s no reason to feel like this. That stuff shouldn’t bother you; it’s nothing more than a collection of ugly memories at this point. Why couldn’t you be grateful for the life Leon had given you? The man gave you just about anything under the sun you could want, so why did one minor inconvenience have to throw you off this badly?
The bags by the door didn’t make you smile anymore. They only brought guilt. You didn’t deserve them. All the gifts and love he lavished upon you would never make you into what you were supposed to be.
Your thoughts consume you for longer than you notice. The sky darkens outside, tinting the room with a violet haze. You lie on the bed under your self-made cloud of gloom for hours, not noticing how much time has passed until you hear the garage door closing and footsteps getting closer. You glance at the bedroom door as it opens silently.
Of course, it’s Leon. His eyes fill with concern at the sight of you. He’d seen you down before but never so deflated. His face now resembles how he looked when he caught you humping his pillow all those months ago, but it’s also distinctly different. He still has curiosity in his gaze, not able to pin down what exactly is the reason for the present circumstances. Though the reaction this time is more worried than surprised. Your present state doesn’t shock him; instead he feels a protective instinct flare within him.
He approaches the bed and sits next to your limp form. His palm rubs up and down your arm slowly. “Hey baby,” he says softly, “You doing ok?”
You look up at him and nod. Sitting up, you scoot to him and align your side with his. Your legs extend out in the opposite direction of him as your head rests on the curve of his shoulder. “I just missed you,” you say softly, your arms encircling the circumference of his bicep.
He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and starts rubbing your back. “You do anything fun while I was gone?” he asks.
“Nothing special,” you respond, “Think shopping made me sleepy.”
You speak with a soft tone of voice, attempting to further the idea that this was merely a bout of tiredness. His eyebrows rise with suspicion. As cute as you look with your cheek squished against his shoulder, he pulls your body around and seats you on his lap. His fingers sweep down your jaw and guide you to look up at him.
“You sure you’re just tired? Nothing else? We weren’t out for that long. I just wanna make sure you’re alright,” he says, trying to show you with how he speaks that it’s not an accusation.
But you remain firm in your convictions and nod. “Mhm, I’m already feeling better. I just needed a little rest,” you assure him and tuck your face against his neck.
It’s not a lie. You were feeling better now that he had returned, each passing moment had little improvement for your mood. But he knew something still wasn’t right. He strokes down the silky expanse of your ears while his other hand massages the base of your tail.
“Well, I missed you too, y’know? Couldn’t stop thinking about my sweet baby bunny the whole time I was at work,” he says.
You were already melting against his chest from the physical contact, but now a smile graces your features. “Really?” you ask, looking up at him again.
“Really,” he confirms, “I felt pretty bad leaving you all alone when it was supposed to be our day.”
“Oh, you don’t have to fe-” you start before he interrupts.
“No, I told you the day was gonna be for us. So how about this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your chin, “How about instead we make it a night for us? I’ll give you a nice bath, put you in some of the new stuff I got you.”
He kisses your head again, then your temple, then your cheek.
“Maybe daddy’ll even give you a special treat before you fall asleep,” he murmurs before kissing your lips.
Taking in a deep breath, you nod. You’re helpless when he treats you like this, disagreeing doesn’t even seem like an option.
“Will you get in the bath with me though?” you ask.
He grins and rises off the bed with you in his arms. “Of course. Anything for my baby bunny.”
The two of you head to the attached bathroom. He sits you on the counter while drawing the bath. Steam drifts up into the hair from the hot water pooling in the tub. He lights some candles, dims the lights, and lets you pick out the scent of bubbles you want.
You sit on the laminate countertop, lazily swinging your dangling legs as you watch him. He checks the temperature of the water multiple times and stares at the clear liquid coming from the bottle of bubble bath. Once that’s taken care of, it’s your turn. He slips your shirt over your head and your bottoms down your legs like you’re the most delicate thing on the face of the earth. Kisses land on your jaw as he pulls your panties off too and drops them in the hamper with the other articles of clothing. So meticulous about everything, at least when it came to you.
He scoops you up again and brings you to the bath, setting you down in the water before twisting the faucet off and discarding his own clothing. Then he climbs in behind you, slotting his body between yours and the cool marble.
“C’mere, baby. Nice and close to daddy,” he murmurs as he pulls you onto his thighs.
You sink into his chest. The feeling of his skin against yours is almost enough to make it all better, enough to make you forget about earlier. You nuzzle into his muscular front, making him smile. He strokes your face and takes care to avoid getting your ears wet.
Both baths and showers used to make you anxious, and he knew that. One of the details you had shared with him about your life at the shelter was having to share the space with all the other hybrids, including the bathrooms. You’d told him how much you hated it, and he could only imagine. He tried extra hard now to make both as comfortable for you as possible, pampering you like an absolute princess.
Thinking about all this, him going above and beyond for you like he always did, makes you turn more into his body. Your arms loop around him, and you place your head beside his, obscuring your downtrodden expression from his vision. Your chin rests on his shoulder as he returns the embrace and holds you closer.
“My perfect girl,” he whispers.
The words are complimentary, but right now, the second in particular stings like a blade. You nestle your face against the warmth of his throat and tighten your limbs around him, trying to drown out the bad swirling inside of you with the feeling of his flesh on yours.
He knows you’re still acting a little unusual. Maybe your heat was right around the corner and it had you feeling extra needy. Maybe you were just still a bit sad about missing out on a day with him. He wasn’t totally sure, but he just wanted to make it better. And the way you were starting to press against him, breasts flush against his chest and the warmth of your thighs pressing against either side of him had his cock starting to stiffen up.
“Sweet thing… you wanna feel a little closer, hm?” he murmurs, fingertips rubbing tiny circles into the small of your back.
You weakly nod.
“Is this close enough? Or should daddy get even closer? I think being inside would feel even better,” he whispers.
You nod again, this time with more motivation. “Please daddy,” you mumble.
“Of course. All you had to do was ask,” he says. He lazily strokes himself a few times beneath the water, getting himself a little harder before he lifts you slightly and slides in.
A soft moan drifts out of you as he lowers you again. You put your head back down on him and sit with the comfort of being full.
“There’s my baby bunny,” he coos in a low voice.
He also takes in the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. The feeling of your warm, wet embrace wrapped around him.
The two of you sit quietly for a while more, the bathroom silent except for the occasional trickle of water when one of you shifts. Flickering lights from the candles paint the walls in dim orange as the scent of the bubble bath takes over the air completely.
But to Leon’s dismay, your mood doesn’t seem to be brightening up. You don’t start squirming with the need to ride him like you normally would. You don’t get extra sappy with him and start going for more kisses or longing looks. 
He reaches for the wash cloth resting on the brim of the tub and soaks it in the water. He squirts some soap onto it and gently rubs it up and down your back. He can feel your muscles losing some of their tension, but you’re still withdrawn. He continues tenderly cleaning you off while you sit with him inside you.
After a few moments more, not knowing becomes unbearable. “Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.
“Nothing, I’m-”
“You’re not just sleepy,” he interjects. His voice is still loving despite the confrontational manner of the conversation. 
He gently guides you away from his body so you’re kneeling straight up in the bath. His eyes scan you over, trying to make this easier by figuring out what it is, but he can’t. He brings the wash cloth up to your chest and starts brushing it against your chest, between your breasts, and down your belly.
“I know something’s wrong, and I know you’re scared of talking about things like this. But I would honestly prefer you telling me what it is, even if it comes out harsh, to sitting here and trying to figure out what’s bothering you,” he says as he rubs your skin with the soft cloth.
“I don’t know,” you say timidly.
“I’m only asking because I care. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is. Seeing you hurting hurts me too, baby,” he responds.
“I’m not lying. I don’t know,” you say again, some defensiveness seeping into your words, “I don’t know why I feel bad. I don’t know how to tell you what’s wrong. I just- I felt sad earlier, and I know I shouldn’t feel sad which makes me more sad.”
He sees the panic rising in your eyes and hears your words becoming more rushed. In an effort to keep the situation controlled, he pulls you back to his chest, hushing your worries by engulfing you with his arms. You reciprocate the motion, eager to retreat from your emotions. He takes a pause to grapple with what you had just said.
“What do you mean you shouldn’t feel sad?” he asks.
“Because… because there’s no reason to be sad,” you answer.
“If you’re sad, then there’s a reason to be sad,” he says and looks down at you with growing concern.
You shake your head. “No, there isn’t,” you whimper. You start to feel tears collecting in your eyes while your throat feels like it’s constricting. “You make everything so perfect for me, and I can’t do the same for you.”
He’s beyond confused at this point. He feels a couple tears fall against his neck, and all he can do is hold you tighter.
“Woah, woah, baby, c’mon,” he says, trying to prevent more tears, “What are you talking about? Perfect? I don’t expect you to be perfect.”
“Yeah, exactly because you are perfect. You never push me. You never ask for too much. You never do anything bad, and I still get like this,” you cry.
“... Is that a bad thing?” he asks, still lost.
“No, but I just wanna be perfect for you too. You work so hard all the time at your job, and then you come home and you have to deal with me,” you weep and cling onto him more, “I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t say that,” he says in a hushed voice, “You’re exactly what I want. I couldn’t ask for anything more than you.”
“Yes, you could. You deserve someone who can give you what you give. You deserve someone who’s not fucked up by stupid stuff from the past,” you cry, “I’ll never be a perfect pet, and I don’t wanna disappoint you.”
His chest aches and tightens up when he hears that. He starts to pull out, figuring this wasn’t the time to be balls deep inside you, but you stay locked around him so he stays put.
“Sweetheart, you’re not… I don’t see you as…” he starts, being careful with his words.
You continue your quiet crying against him.
“You’re more than a pet to me,” he decides, soft but firm, “You don’t disappoint me ever. You can’t disappoint me because I don’t have expectations of what you should be. You’re not some dumb animal that I want to mold into a fantasy. I know you were treated like that before, but that’s not what you are to me. You’re my baby bunny. My little love.”
More tears spill out onto him. The bathwater ripples with the shaking of your body.
“You’re not fucked up,” he whispers, “That stuff you went through at the shelter, that’s a big deal. I don’t expect you to just be able to move on from that like it’s normal. You need some extra care, and I’ve known that since the first day you came home with me. It’s not a bad thing. It’s something I love about you. I’m not dealing with you when we do things like this. You’re not a burden to me.”
“Promise?” is all you can choke out right now.
“I promise, baby. Cross my heart and hope to die,” he murmurs and kisses your temple. He sighs and squeezes his arms around you before saying a little more amidst the quiet of the bathroom. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly how you feel. But I know how it is to get shoved into a life you didn’t ask for. To get expectations put on you that you can never meet. I don’t want you to feel like that with me. I love you, and I’m gonna love you whether you’re a perfect ‘pet’ or not. That’s not what’s important to me.”
You know he’s being genuine. You hold yourself closer and press a few faint kisses to his throat. “I’m sorry,” you cry.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” he whispers, “Just try and calm down for me, sweet girl. Take some deep breaths.”
You do as he says and work towards settling down. Your breathing slows, and the tears slowly stop. He grabs another washcloth and wets it. He guides your head up and gives you a small kiss before dabbing at your cheeks and cleaning your face of any remaining sadness. Your eyes flutter shut and relax under the loving care of his movements. He tends to your hair next, caring for it how you need.
Once your bath is done, he pulls out of you. You give him a little pout, bringing a smirk to his face.
“Patience, little one,” he teases before standing up with you in his arms.
He taps the stopper with his foot, draining the bathtub as he steps out. He sets you down so he can wrap a towel around his waist and then bundles you up in a big fluffy one. He dries you off and brings you in front of the mirror. He applies some product to your ears, something he’d gotten to keep them from drying out. You can’t help the smile on your face as his fingers gently rub down your long, fluffy ears. You can feel his love through his motions. He follows it with your hair routine, going through each step with precision and making sure to do it just how you like.
Before he takes you to the bedroom, his arms curl around your waist and he slots his head next to yours, gazing into your eyes through the reflective glass of the mirror.
“My baby bunny,” is all he says before pulling you out to the bed and laying you down on it.
He gets some of your lotion, a scent he’d become so familiar with. He rubs it all up and down your legs, taking time to lightly massage as he works. His hands glide all over your body, over your hips, up your sides, across your chest, and down your arms to your hands. Every inch of you was going to feel soft as silk if he could help it. The soft sighs of pleasure that come from you are enough to keep him thoroughly invested in the process.
When he’s finished, he plants a kiss on your lips and gets up. He heads to the door where you had dropped the shopping bags from earlier. He’s rifling through them, pulling out some new items you could wear to bed. He fishes out a cute t-shirt and some smooth panties when he hears your voice call to him.
“Wait, daddy?” you say.
“Yeah, baby?” he responds immediately, looking over his shoulder at you.
“Come back,” you request.
He looks at you curiously but stands up and walks back to the edge of the bed where you were sitting. Looking down at you lovingly, he holds your jaw and squeezes your cheeks. “What is it?”
“I don’t wanna get dressed yet… Maybe I could still have my treat… if you want to,” you initiate timidly while grabbing the hem of his towel.
He smiles and breathes out a laugh. “Yeah? You’re feeling better and need daddy again?” he asks teasingly, letting you tug the towel loose. It crumples to the floor behind his legs and unveils his cock to you.
“Always need my daddy,” you say, looking up at him.
“Don’t I know it,” he teases.
He pushes you back on the bed and crawls on top of you. Leaning down, he kisses and nips at your neck. His hands squeeze your hips. You nuzzle the side of his head affectionately. Out of the corner of your eye you see him swat away the plush cow that sat nearby on a pillow from when you’d thrown it earlier.
“Hey,” you say, feigning protest, “That’s mean. He didn’t do anything.”
“I’m sure he’ll forgive me,” he says with a grin.
Your body is already exposed from the bath, and he takes advantage. He kisses down along your collarbone towards the valley of your breasts. His palms cup them at the sides as his lips coast over them. He always took his time with you when he could. He’d get to rush when you were in heat and soaked just from being in the room with him.
Your fingers lace through the strands of his hair as you draw in a sharp breath. He laves at your nipples and the sensitive flesh of your breasts. His tongue caresses along the curves slowly, building your anticipation and causing your tummy to start fluttering.
His hand slides down your body, dipping between your legs to seek out your center. His fingers brush against the velvet folds and feel how they’re beginning to grow slick with your arousal. He swirls around your clit before pressing down on the sensitive nub and rubbing. Your lips part as you mewl.
“Is daddy already making you feel good, baby?” he coos.
You nod as your face starts to morph into that pouty look you get when you’re worked up. He loves every second of it and continues flicking his middle finger against the bud.
“You gonna let me show you how perfect you are, hm?” he asks.
You simply whine in response and tilt your head back against the pillows.
“That’s my girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you get like this,” he says.
He swipes his fingers up and down some more until he feels you're wet enough and ready to take him. He was certain you could take it without as much prep. Over the last couple of months, you’d you’d shown him the phrase “fucking like rabbits” was true after all, but he liked making you feel like you needed it. He like dragging his tip against your entrance, teasingly prodding the head of his cock at your hole. He savored the way you whine and squirm for it. Just like you were doing right now.
He pushes it in you, a deep groan coming from him as he sinks in all the way to the hilt. The way your eyes flutter and droop drives him crazy. His arms cage you down on the mattress as his knees sink into the plush blankets for leverage so that he can start thrusting.
“Perfect fit, that’s for sure,” he grunts, “No one else can take my cock like you can.”
You nod, whimpering and holding onto him. “Made for my daddy,” you say before gasping.
“Yeah you were. My perfect angel bunny. Sent down just for me,” he says and starts rocking his hips.
You writhe within the confines of his arms. Your breasts push up against his chest as your back arches. He fucks into you deep as he can, just how he knows you like it. Gripping your wrists, he pins them on the mattress, keeping you secure and in place so that he can piston his hips against you without interruption.
His own head tilts back, eyes shutting and lips separating the smallest bit. You gaze up at him like he’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Every bit of him makes you clamp around his length.
“Such a good girl,” he mutters, “This is just what you needed. Just needed daddy to breed you and get you nice and calm again.”
That word makes your fuse burn faster, and you nod vigorously. “Can’t help it daddy,” you whimper, “I’m just a bunny. Don’t know any better.”
“Oh, I know, baby. Sweet little bunny like you needs to be bred. You need daddy’s cock to function, don’t you? Nothing feels right if you haven’t been bred,” he says, picking up more speed.
“Mhm,” you squeak.
Your legs start trembling hard as he hammers into your sweet spot over and over. To stabilize you, he lets go of your wrists and places his palms on the back of your thighs. He’s pressing you so hard into the mattress it feels like you might drop through straight to the floor. You cry out for him again and again, spurring him on.
“Good girl. I gotta breed my perfect little bunny. Fuck you nice and full like you deserve,” he grunts. The bed creaks with the force of his movements.
He pants as he drills into you. His head eventually falls forward to your shoulder again, but his hips don’t stop rolling.
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, you’re gonna end up with a whole litter,” he moans.
Your eyes roll back and your legs lock around his waist. “Need it, daddy. Please,” you whine and clutch at his shoulders.
“I need it too baby. Need to knock up my sweet baby bunny. Gotta get you nice and full so everyone knows you’re all mine,” he says.
You’re both almost at the peak, gripping each other as tight as possible, sucking in air like there’s a limited supply. Both of you are moments from snapping when Leon’s eyes screw shut, his mind clouded by images of you pregnant with his babies. It’s too much, and he’s snapping into you like he’ll die otherwise.
“You’re gonna be the prettiest mama to our perfect babies,” he moans against you before his body starts sputtering.
The feeling of his cum flooding into you is enough to throw you over the edge with him. You seize up, back arching off the bed like you're possessed. You babble out some words of love, but all of it gets lost. You’re so jumbled up from the high, you both can only cling to each other as you ride it out.
You’re still breathing heavy as you come down, and so is he. Puffs of his breath come out right next to your ear. He lazily kisses below the lobe as you come back to reality.
“You see how important to me you are? See how much I love you?” he murmurs as he carefully rolls over and brings you to rest on his chest with him still buried inside you.
You nod and peck his jaw as you settle against him.
“Good. I never want you thinking like that again. If you ever need a reminder of what I think of you, I want you to tell me, and I’ll give you this same reminder.”
“I will,” you agree softly as he strokes your back.
You’re both exhausted from the exertion and the long day. He’s content to just melt into the bed while tangled up with you.
“Gonna keep you plugged up for a while, baby. Gotta make sure it takes, my sweet girl,” he mumbles as his eyes start drooping.
You gaze up at him, pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes. Your doubt and sadness had been abated for now. You nuzzle him and kiss his chest before trying to get some rest yourself. 
“Love you daddy. So so much,” you whisper.
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strazki · 26 days
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School Bus Graveyard headcanons no one asked for but will still get 😤
Ashlyn has autism. Honestly pretty much canon at this point, considering what we've seen of her, but still
The whole group took a hot second to adjust, but they are now so accommodating to it
Obviously there's the noise issues, but they also recognize when she needs to be alone, and they don't bother her too much about her being so asocial
I’m projecting but I just love these guys
ANYWAY, on a completely different subject, I think Taylor is actually a really good singer! She's just very shy about it
I also think Aiden can definitely play drumset
Top that off with Tyler canonically playing guitar, all you need to do is give Ben a bass or something and then they're basically just a little band!
I think they would be called the Phantoms or some shit like that
Ashlyn can do backup vocals, and I love my boy Logan but he's giving stage manager vibes a little bit lol
Someone's gotta do it
Taylor and Tyler share their clothes all the time. We already see that they have the same room, which most likely means the same closet, and since the two of them have a relatively similar build (and thus, similar clothing sizes), they just don't really bother separating their clothes (probably why they're matching so often)
Aiden does so much stupid rich kid shit. Not obnoxiously, but just out of a lack of understanding
Probably says some shit to the others like "Wait, your parents didn't get you a car? I know we can't drive yet, but you can still like... take pictures with it."
Bro has no idea he's that rich
The twins absolutely love going over to Ashlyn's place to get self-defense training from Mike and Emma. With their father being gone for a while, and their mom being not all there (for lack of a better description), it's been a long time since they've had a stable parental figure in their lives
Ashlyn's parents are just so nice to them and treat them like their own kids. I just think it's something they needed in their life that they found in an unexpected place :(
Ben loves to paint! He took up art and drawing ever since he lost his voice, and finds painting specifically very calming
He's been working on portraits for each of his friends that are all lying half-finished around his room
Even when he finishes them, though, he probably wouldn't show them for a while because he's quite nervous about it
If he DOES show them, he would definitely give Taylor her's first, because that's who he feels closest to
She cries
I feel like Logan, with working at the flower shop and all that, probably spends a bit of time putting together little bouquets for his friends
Not as like a grand show of affection, but just little gifts to show his appreciation for them being around and caring about him
Probably personalizes them a LOT too. Not only does he coordinate them to match the favorite colors/flowers of the person he's making them for, but he knows all the symbolic meanings behind each flower
Like, for example, I bet he gets yellow roses for Ben to signify friendship, and pink roses for Ashlyn to signify gratitude, that sort of stuff
His love language is gift giving and he's never had friends as close as these guys, leave him alone >:[
Okay that's all I got right now send tweet
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darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 2: Dolls
terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!
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Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)
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Synopsis: As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon. You attend your very first tourney in celebration of your brother or sister’s impending arrival. 
Hello! My apologies for the wait. There was a whole mess of stuff that killed my drive to write for a few days. BUT, I’ve managed to write this one, featuring baby!Babey as a POV character! I’ve tried hard to keep it in a ‘small person’ voice, which got real old real fast, lol. Keep in mind that she’s around 3 years old in this one, so she’s not hella mature or anything. My thanks to @ewanmitchellcrumbs​ for reading this asshole over, lol.
TRIGGERS: child doing child things, child narrating Episode 1 of HotD, character death.
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Once upon a time, there lived a girl called Hana. Hana was the prettiest girl in the whole kingdom, and she wore fancy dresses with gold and silver necklaces and rings, and she had a pearl hairnet in her red hair. There was also another girl called Marya who was very pretty too, but not as pretty as Hana. When Hana and Marya were lit—
“Ah,” Mama says. “Rhaenyra!”
From your place on the floor in the corner, right in the middle of a patch of sunlight, you see that ’Nyra has come. It’s not nice to have your story interrupted, but ’Nyra’s visits are always fun, so you don’t mind. She is dressed the way she does when she goes to visit Syrax, which means she will smell funny and make Mama cross.
“You know I don’t like you to go flying while I'm in this condition,” Mama adds.
“You don't like me to go flying while you're in any condition.”
Alicent, ’Nyra’s best friend, stands in the doorway. She is very very pretty, you think, with red hair like Hana’s and a blue dress that makes her look like a girl from one of the old stories you like to listen to. “Your Grace,” she says, smiling.
“Good morrow, Alicent.” Mama sighs. She sounds very tired. She has put her coat back on, even though it’s so hot in the room and she’s fanning herself to try and dry the sweat on her cheeks and her brow.
“Did you sleep?” ’Nyra asks.
Mama laughs, quick and soft. “I slept.”
“How long?” ’Nyra takes a seat on the stool beside Mama’s feet.
“I don’t need mothering, Rhaenyra.”
“Well, here you are, surrounded by attendants, all focused on the babe. Someone has to attend to you.”
That is when Mama’s eyes go to you. “I have my own right here, so there is no need to fear.”
’Nyra turns to look, too. Her frown goes away and she smiles, wiggling her fingers at you to say ‘hello’. Even though she’s your sister and that means you love her, you don’t go over to her. She is older, so she doesn’t care very much about dolls or stories or little sisters who don’t have dragons.
Mama keeps talking to ’Nyra while you listen. “You will lie in this bed soon enough, Rhaenyra. This discomfort is how we serve the Realm.” None of it makes sense, but you like the sound of their voices.
’Nyra makes a rude noise. “I'd rather serve as a knight and ride to battle and glory.”
Mama laughs. “We have royal wombs, you and your sister and I. The childbed is our battlefield. We must learn to face it with a stiff lip.”
Why would a child’s bed be a battlefield? My bed is nice and big. And what is a stiff lip? Is it something that Maester Mellos should give his herbs for? Are there bones in a lip? Can those bones break like big bones can?
You have lots of questions, but you don’t say what you’re thinking out loud, of course. The Maester only said you could be in here if you were good, so you mustn’t talk unless Mama asks you something or starts saying things to you.
“Now,” Mama says to ’Nyra, “take a bath. You stink of dragon.”
’Nyra stands up and bends down to kiss Mama on her head. Then, she comes over to you and gets on the floor so she can give you a hug and a kiss, and she is warm and smelly like Mama said she is. You like the smell, though, because it is what ’Nyra always smells like.
’Nyra leaves with Alicent, and for a while it is very calm. Mama takes a nap by closing her eyes and leaning with her head back, so you make sure to be very quiet when you continue telling yourself the story.
Once upon a time, there lived a girl called Hana. Hana was the prettiest girl in the whole kingdom, and she wore fancy dresses with gold and silver necklaces and rings, and she had a pearl hairnet in her red hair. There was also another girl called Marya who was very pretty too, but not as pretty as Hana. When Hana and Marya were little, they were best friends, and they played dolls and sang hymns and learned their letters together. But when they became older, they started to fight.
Marya was jealous of Hana. Lords from all over the kingdom wanted to marry her because of how pretty and how kind she was. That meant that not many lords wanted to marry Marya, even though she had lovely dark hair and knew all the names of the Houses and could sing even better than Hana did! So, Marya thought and thought about how she could make more lords want to marry her. She decided to hide all of Hana’s nicest dresses and shiniest jewels.
Naughty, naughty Marya. That’s not how proper ladies act. It was very nasty of you to—
“What are you and your ladies up to?”
You don’t like being interrupted for a second time, but it is Mama who is asking. Everyone’s been using soft voices since ’Nyra came to make a fuss and then left to wash the dragon-stink off. Mama’s question is louder than them all, so it must be for you.
Turning your head, you see that she is looking at you with a small smile.
“Marya hid Hana’s dresses and her best necklace and rings,” you say, holding her up high so Mama can see. You frown at the doll. “She needs to say sorry, so I’m telling her to.”
Mama laughs, but you don’t know why. “Oh, dear. How unkind of her! Why did Marya do such a thing?”
“All the lords want to marry Hana,” you say, “and not Marya. She’s very angry, but—but it’s not Hana’s fault. So I’m going to tell her that, too.”
“My, my.” Mama looks tired, like she has ever since baby Baelon-or-Visenya started growing in her belly, but she still seems happy that you’re here. Her eyes are warm the way they get when she sees you. “Quite a responsibility, you have.”
You nod. “I’m her Mama, like you’re mine. I have to teach her to be good.”
This makes Mama smile even wider. She holds her hand out to you, so you put Marya down beside Hana, making sure they’re not too close together. It would be bad if they started fighting after you’ve been busy telling Marya off so much. Making sure your skirts are neat like a proper lady, you go to take Mama’s hand, letting her pull you close-close so that you have to get up onto the daybed with her. Her skin is hot like fire is when you get too near it.
“Are you going to teach your little brother or sister to be good, too?” she asks, bringing your hand to her belly. When you touch it, you feel the kicking. It’s like a tapping from under a very thick blanket.
“Yes, Mama. I promise. I’ll sing all the hymns so they learn them, and make sure they eat all their supper, and—and say ‘no running’ and ‘no hitting’ and give them lots of hugs and tell—tell them they are naughty if they don’t liste—”
“Well,” she says even louder, smiling so wide you can see her teeth, “you already sound like a wonderful big sister, my dearest.”
Then, a new voice speaks out from the doorway, catching your interest. “Hakorje mandia kesā, sīlāvose.”
It’s one of your favourite people in the whole world.
You scramble out of Mama’s hold, nearly tripping over your dress. “Kepus!”
He chuckles as you race toward him, arm out so that he can catch you and lift you up. Mama hasn’t been able to do that since her belly became big, and Papa is too busy now. Oh, how you’ve missed it!
Uncle Daemon sits you on his hip so that you can stare straight at his face, at the way his eyes scrunch up with how much his mouth stretches. “What about you, Princess? Have you been a good girl since last I saw you?” he asks.
“I’m always good, kepus,” you say, pushing out your bottom lip to show how rude you think his question is. “But—but you haven’t. You’re naughty. You’ve been gone for so, so, so long!”
Even though his brow raises, he sounds like he finds you funny. “Ah-ah. A moon’s turn, nothing more or less, is all the time I’ve spent away. I was here for your name day celebrations, was I not?”
“That was ages ago!”
There were lots of people in the Keep for the party, and you don’t think you really knew most of them. But, because Papa is King and you are a Princess, they were invited to come and wish you a happy name day and give you gifts and eat and drink lots. It was nice at first, but the more they ate and drank, the louder they got, and soon you had to sneak off and find Uncle so that he could take you back to your rooms where it was quiet. He sang a song in High Valyrian, the language that your House has spoken for thousands of years, so that you could fall asleep even after eating so many little frosted cakes. Soon, you had to say farewell to him because he had to go back to Runestone and visit his lady wife, the one he hate-hates but Mama says he has to see.
Thinking about High Valyrian makes you stop. You can’t speak it, but there are some parts you know. Kicking Uncle in the side for being rude, you say, “And—and I’m not ann—annoying. I’m good!”
He looks sorry when you say that. “Of course you are. And I hope you’ll forgive me for returning after such a long time.” Behind his back where you can’t see is his other arm. He brings it out, showing you what he was hiding in his hand.
Oh! A new doll! And this one is special because it has pale hair and purple eyes just like you!
“Please accept this as a token of my apology, sweetling,” Uncle Daemon says, offering it to you. “Perhaps—Marya and Hana, was it?—could do with another friend.”
“Thank you, kepus!” Keeping your new doll pinned between you and Uncle, you wrap your arms around his neck so so tight and squeeze so he can feel how happy you are! You kiss him on the cheek, wiggling very close and smiling when he squeezes you back just as tight. “Thank you, thank you! I missed you so much!”
“Silly girl.”
Uncle pats you on the back once, twice, and then crouches down so that you can stand on your own two feet again. Sometimes, this makes you sad, because his hugs are your favourite and you wish they would never end. But he has to say ‘hello’ to Mama, too. Besides, you have a new lady to introduce!
“How about you play,” he says, “while I speak with Mama?”
“Okay!” You’re already thinking about it anyway.
When you go back to Marya and Hana, you can see that they’ve been good girls and not moved at all. You rearrange them both so that they are sitting, and place your new doll—Alysanne, you decide, after Papa and Uncle’s grandmama—between them, fussing with their hair so that it lies neatly. They are very pretty, you think, red and dark and silver all together.
“And how is Lady Rhea?” Mama is asking, brow lifting.
Uncle makes a noise and curls his lip meanly. “Who the fuck—who cares?” he says, rolling his eyes when you gasp. He said a bad word. “It’s not as though we spent any time in each other’s presence. Think I’d rather the company of sheep, anyway.”
“You were there for an entire moon’s turn, Daemon”—Mama frowns the way she does when ’Nyra says something rude, and ’Nyra does that a lot—“and you refused to even speak with her? She’s your wife.”
“Not one I chose. You would know that all too well, cousin.”
Mama goes quiet, looking to you. Uncle does, too. Then, she starts whispering to Uncle, and Uncle whispers back, and you return to your game.
Dolls make far more sense than people do.
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You don’t like tourneys. You don’t like them at all.
It’s loud, and hot, and there are too many smells—of different perfumes all swirling around and clogging in your nose, of dirt and manure from the ground below, of something sharp that clings to the walls that box you in and shield you from being able to see anything interesting. The horns ring out and so many people cheer that it feels like a buzzing in your head. It makes your teeth hurt.
“Be welcome!”
Papa looks happy today, so much happier than he was the last time Mama said a babe was in her belly. That babe was dead, she told you. It went away from inside her and never came back. That’s what death is, and everyone is very, very afraid of it all the time. But you didn’t know that babe like you know Mama and Papa and ’Nyra and Uncle, so you weren’t sad or scared. You wonder if this babe will go away, too.
The sound of clapping is like thunder. “I know many of you have travelled long leagues to be at these games,” he says. “But I promise, you will not be disappointed.”
You watch from beside Papa as ’Nyra sneaks to her seat, but she is not so sneaky because she is wearing a bright red dress that looks beautiful. She sits beside Alicent, her friend and Lord Hightower’s daughter, and tries to make herself small in her chair so that Papa won’t get angry.
After a pause, he keeps speaking. “When I look at the fine knights in these lists, I see a group without equal in our histories. And this great day has been made more auspicious by the news that I am happy to share—Queen Aemma has begun her labours!”
There is so much noise that you have to hold your hands over your ears to quiet it just a little bit. Brella pats your shoulder, trying to make you feel better.
“It’s alright, Princess. We can play in just a moment—how about that?”
“I want Mama,” you say sadly, your bottom lip wobbling and your eyes feeling hot like they do when you really want to cry.
Mama has been locked in her chambers since last evening, when the Maester said the babe was nearly ready to come out. You asked and asked Papa, but he wouldn’t let you in to see her. When the door had opened and you tried to go inside, you were too surprised to move at the sound of her yelling. You think that the babe must have been hurting her very, very much. It makes you afraid. But then, Uncle took you away to your rooms and read you a story in High Valyrian, which sounded nice even though you didn’t understand it all.
“May the luck of the Seven shine upon all combatants!” You are not listening to Papa’s words very closely.
“Soon, Princess,” Brella says, stopping for a moment when the horns echo out again. “You must wait for the babe to be born, first. How exciting—a new little brother, all for you!”
You don’t want a brother if it means that Mama has to be in pain. Papa would be very happy—you are three whole name days but you still know he wants the babe to be a boy and not a girl, that you were supposed to be a boy and he was sad you were only a second daughter—but you are happy with the way things are.
It would be very rude to say so in front of Papa, so you keep quiet and nod, letting your nursemaid bring you off your seat and down to the floor so that you may sit amongst Alysanne and Hana and Marya.
It has been very difficult to teach Marya to be nice to Alysanne, because she doesn’t like it when Hana makes new friends and Alysanne is a very pretty new friend. But she has decided she rather likes Alysanne after all, and so you can serve their tea without being scared of anyone being silly or bad to each other. Brella is very helpful in braiding Marya’s hair to look like ’Nyra’s does, and then she pins Hana’s back like Alicent’s. You decide that Alysanne should have hair that looks like yours because you look nearly the same, like she is your baby and you are her mama.
You are interrupted very quickly when Septa Marlow bends forward to speak straight into Brella’s ear. “It is unseemly to coddle her so. She is nearing the end of her infancy—you ought to be preparing her to pass over into my care, not indulging in frivolities!”
You shiver. Septa Marlow is mean. The last time that ’Nyra said something rude to her, she was rapped across the palm by Septa’s willow switch. It left a bright red mark that made you cry when you saw it, but ’Nyra only muttered something nasty under her breath and smiled in a not-very-kind way. You wish you could be as brave as her.
“When she is five summers old, she will pass into your care,” Brella says. It is polite, but the way she looks at Septa makes you think she is not being so nice after all. “Until then, I shall do as I see fit. And that means allowing the Princess to indulge in these frivolities while she can.”
Septa wants to say something rude back, you can tell—but then, the whispers start. It makes you look out onto the field so that you can see what’s happening.
“… of House Targaryen, Prince of the City, will now choose his first opponent!”
Uncle rides out on his horse—a great stallion named Varlet that you sometimes give apples to if he is very, very good and doesn’t buck anyone out of the saddle—wearing his nicest armour with the tail of feathers that comes out of the helmet. You think it makes him look a bit like a bird from one of those old books in the library. Uncle takes Varlet up and down the line of men on their own horses, but you don’t know why. You cannot see his face.
Your dolls don’t seem very exciting anymore. You pass them back to Brella and move past Papa to where ’Nyra sits at the very front. Even though there is an empty seat next to Alicent, you go to ’Nyra anyway.
All you have to do is hold up your arms to her and she smiles. “Do you want to see Uncle’s bout?” she asks.
“Yeah,” you say, nodding. You can hear the sound of hooves on the dirt, which means you are missing it, so you stamp your feet and wiggle. Maybe she will hurry up if you do. “Please, please!”
“Oh, alright.” She rolls her eyes and lifts you up so that you can sit on her lap, tucking her head next to yours and wrapping her arms tight around you so you don’t fall off. She is warm like Caraxes and Syrax are, like a dragon, only this time she doesn’t smell like smoke and rotting meat but like flowers and soap. “Can you see?”
You look down. Uncle is at one end of the field and the man he has chosen—Ser Gwayne, you think, from the green he has on and the funny shape of his helmet, like a tower—on the other, their jousting poles held out in front of them. “I can see,” you say.
When Uncle and Ser Gwayne start riding, you really do try to keep your eyes open. But, as they get closer and closer, you cannot help but shut them because you don’t want to see anyone get hurt, or worse­—the horses. Sometimes, it happens. All you can see is the insides of your eyelids when a big CLANG happens, but ’Nyra doesn’t clap so you think it might not be finished yet. Then, you hear a horse neigh and a big thud, and lots of applause. This time, ’Nyra does clap, so you open your eyes and see that Uncle is still on Varlet but Ser Gwayne is on the ground.
Your sister stops clapping when she sees Alicent with her hand over her mouth. Ser Gwayne is her brother, so she must be very worried for him. You reach out and pat her arm, which makes her stop and stare at you for a moment before giving you a small smile. ’Nyra grabs at her hand, too, which seems to help.
Uncle brings Varlet right up to the balcony with his jousting pole all the way up high, so ’Nyra puts you down and grips your shoulder to steer you forward. You are still very small, so the railing is too tall for you to reach, and that means you could fall very easily if you lean too far down. You grab onto your sister’s skirts.
“Nicely done, Uncle,” she says, holding onto the rail.
“Thank you, Princess.” Uncle looks at you, and his face changes—he is friendly now where he wasn’t exactly when he was looking at ’Nyra. He doesn’t say anything to you, but he does wink, which makes you giggle and him smile. He turns to Alicent. “Now, I’m fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent. Having your favour would all but assure it.”
She goes toward the table where two wreaths lay, one for her and one for ’Nyra. You are not old enough for your own yet, or so Papa says. Taking the green one in her fingers, she comes back to the balcony. Instead of putting the wreath on the jousting pole, though, she holds it out to you. “Perhaps your niece would like to give you my favour?”
Beaming, you accept the wreath and let Alicent pick you up under the arms. It doesn’t feel very nice, but it makes you tall enough to put the favour over the pole and watch it slide all the way down to the bottom, near where Uncle is holding it. He grins, then rides away to have another bout.
’Nyra takes you back to where she was sitting, placing you back on her knee. “Are you going to thank Alicent? She was very nice, letting you give Uncle her favour.”
“Thank you, Alicent,” you say.
She brushes some of your hair out of your eyes. “You’re welcome, Princess.”
You find it strange when Papa rises from his chair after something Lord Hightower says in his ear, a troubled look on his face. He was the one who had been the most excited about the tourney, so why is he getting up to leave?
’Nyra doesn’t notice, holding tight to you when you start squirming. For a while, you stay with her—but the jousting starts to get frightening. When the knights knock each other off their horses, they start using swords and axes and maces and trying to really hurt each other, striking and kicking so hard that it makes your heart race really fast in your chest and your belly rock like it does when you need to be sick. To take your mind off it, you start listening to Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys talking to each other.
“…and we expect them to act with honour and grace,” the Princess is saying to her husband. The sound of her voice makes you shiver a little. Whenever she stares at you, it is unkind. You don’t think she likes you very much. “It’s a marvel that war didn't break out at first blood.”
Everyone gasps when the knight below brings his axe down on the man below him, hitting him over and over so that blood sprays everywhere. The man twitches at first, then goes still, the dirt below him turning dark red very quickly.
You cry and cry, loud and ugly. You don’t like it here anymore. You want to go back to the Keep and find Mama and let her hug you until this cold, awful feeling goes away and warmth and happiness comes back.
“Nurse!” ’Nyra says, but you aren’t really listening. You can see that people are pointing at you from the stands and whispering, which makes you even more upset because you truly tried to be good and quiet and not make a fuss this time.
“Oh, Princess.” Brella lifts you off of ’Nyra’s lap and carries you to the back of the royal box, past Papa’s Councilmen and all the lords and ladies that are gathered, heading toward the stairs. “Come now, my sweet. Time for a nap, don’t you think?”
“I want Mama,” is all you can say. “I want my mama!”
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It is darker than normal when you wake up from your nap. Usually, the sun is still up, the colour of Papa’s crown as it shines through your window, hot and blinding even though supper is not far away. But now, you have to blink a few times before you realise that you cannot see because night has come.
Your chambers are empty, save one other.
“Papa?” you ask, rubbing your eyes and yawning. You can just barely see him through the shadows. “What—what—”
There is a sharp clack and a fizzle of orange fire, which Papa cups in his hand and takes to the candle beside your bed. As he lights a small flame, you look at his face. Even in the darkness, you can see how sad he is, the shine that forms lines down his cheeks and the red puff of the skin around his eyes.
Oh, no. Something bad has happened. Something… something terrible.
“Whe—where’s Mama?” you ask, voice wobbly. It feels like a hand has reached down through your throat and your stomach to peel your insides out, to turn it all over so that you’re bleeding and broken where the Maester cannot see. “Mama—”
“Sh, my girl.” He is trying to sound soft and kind, but you hear how he cracks a little, how the words seem almost stuck on the tip of his tongue. “Listen to me. Come here.”
You still don’t know why it is, but the rule of life is that you obey ’Nyra who obeys Mama who obeys Papa, which means that you have to obey Mama and Papa even when the others aren’t there. So, when Papa asks you to do something, you have to listen. You’re a good girl, after all.
Kicking away the covers that have made you too-too warm, you crawl on your hands and knees to the edge of the bed where Papa sits. He is solid and real under your fingers, smelling like the Maester’s medicines as always, but also like something sour. Like metal.
He grabs you and puts you on his knee like ’Nyra did before, during the tourney, only the hand on your back is large-large, almost covering from your neck to your bottom. You can feel his thumb moving up and down as he speaks, up and down, up and down.
“Something… something has happened. To Mama,” he says, taking lots of pauses and shaking under you like he is cold. You reach up to pat his face. Your hand comes away wet.
“Is she okay?” you ask. That horrible feeling comes back, and you have to swallow so that you don’t get sick all over Papa. “Where is Mama?”
“Mama… she couldn’t bring the babe out. A boy—Baelon.” This time, you can hear him cry, but it’s quick, not long and loud like yours.
A brother. I have a baby brother. It doesn’t feel very special or interesting. Maybe meeting the babe will make you more excited?
“Where is he?”
Papa cries more. “He… he lived for three hours. Three. Then he—”
“—died.” That’s the word for when someone goes through death. Papa didn’t look like he could say it, but you can. “Sorry,” you tell him quietly. You know how much he wanted a boy. “Mama must be sad, too.”
“She—she—Mama didn’t survive the birth.”
You frown. What does that mean? “So… she is sick?”
Papa shakes his head, eyes scrunching. “No.”
“Where is she, then? I want to say ‘sorry’ to her, too.”
“She—died. She’s dead, my girl. Only, she passed before Baelon.”
You have to stop and really think, think so hard that your head hurts and you feel dizzy from holding your breath. Being dead means going away and never coming back. Mama is dead. Which means…
After Papa says those terrible, awful, horrible words, he pushes his nose into your hair and hugs you so so tight until you feel his tears sliding over your head. You hug him back, pressing your face to his chest and letting his shirt soak up all the crying from your eyes. You don’t know if you understand it all—but you know one thing for certain, one thing that makes you cold and sick and afraid.
Mama went away. Mama will never come back.
Mama is gone.
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Read on AO3:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/48798151/chapters/123751342
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Taglist (😭 thank you!):
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azirafuck · 10 months
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GOS2 Spoilers Masterpost (ONLY EP. 1-2)
alright, you read the title, you know what's under here - gonna tag everyone who helped this if I know them, thanks to everyone for their contribution and for being agents of chaos the way satan intended. love you all
[Last update/edit: 24/07 - 14:10CET]
first of all, we got some amazing posts from @incorrectquoteswwdits mostly about the first scene in heaven with crowley as an angel:
angel!crowley creating stars and aziraphale thinking he's calling him beautiful
more on that
aziraphale's lies make the lesbians have problems, apparently
communist aziraphale be like OUR CAR
isolation and doubts
THEN we have a detailed recount of the first episode by a kind anon! again, thank you @incorrectquoteswwdits for sharing <3
@goodomens-hints posted a lenghty and detailed recount of the first episode as well with some little hits at future episodes (nothing too big on the post itself, but BE CAREFUL, the blog is actually posting some other spoilers from episodes past the second one!)
@goodomensjail gave us a detailed recount of the first scene, with angel!crowley starting to question stuff and eventually shielding aziraphale with his wing
@mikubinders gives us SOME GOOD GOURMET SHIT by telling us that:
"Beelzebub kidnaps and threatens Crowley, tells him that ze could put a price on his head but ze doesn't want to. After that Crowley comes back to the bookshop and Good-old-fashioned lover boy plays while he drives there. "I'm back" happens. Aziraphale makes Crowley do a silly little apology dance so he forgives him and so they work together"
after thinking this last spoiler was fake, an anon came through and confirmed its real! we also have new context! (sent by an anon to yours tuly)
anon came through with some details about the Everyday record, told us Queen is actually tied to CROWLEY and not to the Bentley, and gave us more context to the OUR CAR and OUR BOOKSHOP bit (sent by an anon to yours tuly)
as for what happens during the Job flashback, after which the sitting five feet apart on a rock in front of the sea happens, a bunch of different versions of what actually happens are going around. @thesherrinfordfacility kept up with the madness surrounding it, so im gonna post here the last two versions of events/details.
first one:
In the Job section, Aziraphale is questioning gods decision of punishing Job. Then u see him in heaven w Muriel here and they are looking thru a long scroll that has instructions from god and he's trying to make sense of it. Muriel is telling him that god and satan made a bet about what Job would do and that's why they are testing him. And az is like whatttt why would god do that that's mean!
When Az finds out they're going to kill Jobs kids, he goes down to Earth to save them while using his angel voice until he realizes he's speaking to Crowley. He sees Crowley about to enter the kids room and tells Crowley "I know you, you wouldn't do this" and Crowley tells him he doesn't know him really. (
AND TY TENNANT IS SASSY AND FLIRTS W AZ??!??!? (*) And THATS when crowley goes "well he seems nice" from the clip. He wasn't jealous tho, like he thought it was funny since they are literally there to supposedly kill these kids and one of them is flirting lol.
The moment of 'weird-beard Crowley' was actually more focused on azi and him questioning God. Crowley tempts Azi w food and u see him struggle but then he gobbled it down and he cries bc he thinks crowley is going to bring him to hell (that's the scene where they are sitting on that thing with the pretty horizon) Crowley tells him "you're just an angel who follows gods as will as much as he can" and Az says that sounds lonely, and Crowley agrees, which is a callback to when he asked Crowley if he was lonely being on what Crowley calls "his own side", and Crowley said no. Crowley then tells him "i'm a demon. I lied"
(*): it was told this isn't actually canon canon, it's up for interpretation - some reported Ty's character is just the classic bratty teenager UPDATE: NOPE anon cleared it up and apparently it DOES read as flirty because ty's character is a little bitch, love that for us
and then we have the second one:
"Episode 2 is half present day things [...], and half the Job story/flashback. Crowley is the demon sent by Satan to torment "God's favorite human" Job to see if Job will curse God, in one big bet between God and Satan. Aziraphale comes to try to stop him, discovers they recognize each other but haven't seen each other since "the flood" and that Crowley seems to have changed since the flood, because he is willing to sacrifice the goats, and ruin Job's house. Crowley says he "has a permit" to torment Job FROM GOD. Aziraphale brings this up to the archangels that gleefully explain that yes it's a bet with Satan and that Job will suffer, but he will get everything back 3-fold by the end. And he will get NEW children. This disturbs Aziraphale, he does not want the CURRENT children to die, he understands the familial love that the archangels do not. He goes to stop Crowley not with power since he has the permit but to reason with him. Aziraphale says things to the effect "I KNOW you don't want to harm them I KNOW you and you don't want to kill children" and Crowley is defiant, but then…. It is revealed that he never killed any of the goats either, he transformed them into pigeons to hide them. And he is hiding the children away in the basement but destroying the house to make it look like they died. He transforms the three kids into lizards to hide them, then when the Archangels descend to give Job his rewards and tell him his wife will bear 7 new children, Job and his wife are in despair because they love their children. Crowley comes in pretending to be a human doctor and he and Aziraphale LIE to the angels faces about how babies are made and trick the angels into thinking Jobs three original children are NEWLY BORN children. Which fools Gabriel, who has only ever seen God make Eve fully grown from Adam's ribs. Crowley then meets Aziraphale at the rock. Aziraphale is crying and says "im ready for you to take me to hell" because he has LIED to angels and foiled God's plans. Crowley is gentle and comforts him that he is still an angel and "I won't tell anyone if you won't" and they reminisce that it's lonely being a different kind of demon and a different kind of angel that sort of do what they feel is right. Heavily implying that they are the same and have each other now. The end of episode 2.
that's what's going around for now, but ill add stuff if we find anything new - also feel free to add to this yourself or send me stuff!
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liyawritesss · 8 months
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ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅꜱ
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Characters: e-1610!Miles Morales, e-42!Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy, Margo Kess
Type: Headcanons
Synopsis: How the Spider Gang helps you through your period.
Warnings: Light cursing, periods so descriptions of blood, cramping; these can be seen as platonic or romantic! Some nicknames are used that can also be used in a platonic or romantic sense I suppose?
A/N: Currently on my menstrual and this shit was kicking my ass for a good four hours. My partner was here to help me through it, and they sorta gave me this idea lol. Love you babe!
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ᴇ-1610!ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ ᴍᴏʀᴀʟᴇꜱ
Something tells me that he has a lot of girl cousins for some reason, and I think that also influences his knowledge about periods outside of Rio educating him about them. He’s not grossed out or anything by it, but is very well of the severity of the different hormone changes and mood swings, and doesn’t wanna get caught in the crossfire at all.
Amidst the stuff in his room he has a little container of period stuff - pads, tampons, painkillers, the basics - for whenever his female friends, family or girlfriend (if and when he acquires one) come over and aren’t prepared when their periods come on randomly.
He lowkey feels bad when the cramps are hitting you hard because he can only do so much on the outside, yknow? Like he can cuddle you and rub your tummy and try to lull you to sleep, but there isn’t much outside of that that he can do.
If you're cuddling, Miles opts to hold you against his chest while music is playing and he’s on his phone. He knows his dad does the same to his mom and thinks that the same method of action should work universally, and thanks to him, most of the time, with the girls and femme-adjacent people he’s around, it does.
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ᴇ-42!ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ ᴍᴏʀᴀʟᴇꜱ
Very similar to e-1610!Miles, e-42!Miles is also one to be knowledgeable about periods and the do’s and dont’s of them. However, I feel like he’s more skittish about the physicality of it all.
Like, he also has a little period kit in his room and it’s much easier to find since there’s not a lot going on and he makes sure to put it in a easy to spot place for whenever female friends, family or partners are around, and he’s comfortable being told that it’s that time of the month for that specific person, but the visual of the blood and the pain makes him squirmish. Which is ironic, given his chosen profession.
I think it's something that, while small and completely unavoidable and integral to the female anatomy, it hits close to home for him to see his mom, friends, family, or partner in pain when it comes to the cramping, the clotting, and the increased times in the bathroom. He feels guilty, like e-1610!Miles, but it’s tenfold now given his own history with being helpless with things outside of his control.
While he’s not good with words, he’ll show his care more physically. Keeps track of the cycle of the important women and people in his life, keeps his kit stocked, and if it pertains to his mom or his partner, wants to go the extra mile and buy chocolates, snacks, and act as a looming presence just in case they need anything (will def say sumn abt them being a ‘cootie monster’ as a joke to lighten the mood, but if you really wanna cuddle him, he won’t put up a fight).
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ʜᴏʙɪᴇ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ
Being a friend or a partner of Hobie’s means you’re taken care of, period. Need sanitary items? He’s got a stash of em in his guitar case. Emotional? He’s leaning his shoulder to you already. Cravings? Already walking out the convenience store with his jacket stuffed with your choice of snacks. Just need to sleep? He can get you a quiet, comfy space just like that. He don’t play when it comes to this thing.
At one point you questioned if Hobie knew more about periods than you did, especially your own. The longer you’re around him, the more shocked you become with just how well he can navigate around you during this time of the month.
I definitely see Hobie as the type to want to provide physical comfort and support for your period. Back rubs, foot rubs, cuddles, cradling or rubbing or kneading your tummy to help combat the cramps and the bloating, everything. He even lets you sleep on top of him if it helps with everything. He’d definitely go to sleep with his hands cupping your tummy, thumb running along your skin to soothe your pains.
He’s good at keeping you distracted from the pain by introducing you to some music, putting on your favorite show, or just talking randomly about something that’ll engage your attention. 
Hobie acts like your personal nutritionist for your period. Tells you the kind of tea to drink, what fruits to eat, what foods you should make to increase iron intake to make up for the loss of blood. And if you can’t cook, he’ll call one of his mates up to help him whip something up (or, knowing him, he’s got connections, he’ll ask someone to make sumn for you in exchange for something he can do).
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ɢᴡᴇɴ ꜱᴛᴀᴄʏ
She hates her own period, so she can’t imagine how her friends and her partner feel. She’s the type to be confined to her room when she’s on her cycle pre-spider bite, however, I’d like to think that post-spider bite, she doesn’t get cramps anymore and the flow is rather light, which makes things great for being a superhero.
Therefore, Gwen takes her own experiences, coupling them with habits and things her dad does, and puts them to use for you.
Next to the dresser in her room is a little four-cube storage unit with bins that hold an assortment of things for you whenever you’re over her place. One bin has all your snacks in it that you generally like to eat, but she makes sure that it’s stocked up when your period comes around. Another has our comfy clothes you like to wear that keep you warm. Another has all the pads, tampons, and pain killers you’ll ever need, and lastly, the heating pad/warm water bottle to battle the cramps with.
Gwen will be kind of a worrywart, especially if she knows that your cramps get really bad sometimes. She’ll hover over you, wanting to help in any way she can, and even if you tell her to back off, she’ll still just kind of like, floats around just in case. It’s all out of love, though. And best believe she won't let you go if you finally invite her to cuddle again.
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ᴍᴀʀɢᴏ ᴋᴇꜱꜱ
Homegirl definitely pops in on her folks using her avatar, and I feel like this  all the same when those she loves are on her period. She herself suffers from heavy flows and monster cramps sometimes, so she knows a thing or two on how to manage them for herself, and for her friends and partner.
Nutrition plays a big part, so like Hobie, Margo will try to help you out with certain foods and drinks to help alleviate some of the pain and pressure from your period. She even forms a little challenge for the two of you to try out while you’re on your cycles together so that you can try things out and see if they work for you
Ironically, one of her favorite facts is that one can actually sync up with other people who they’ve bonded with over the internet, Since it’s likely majority of her friends are online and that she’d meet her partner through her virtual avatar, she’s not completely surprised when it happened, but more intrigued that it actually is factual
While she also knows that a healthy nutrition helps out big time, don't think for a second Margo won’t open up a tub of ice cream and a bag of chocolates with you and put on a movie to get through the first day of the period blues. Comfort over all is the philosophy that she follows, so if you’re not down for any of that healthy shit, she isn’t either. She’s more than glad to sleep in with you while eating fast food, so long as you’re there for when you two have to struggle to get back on routine lmao
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jimmy-j-james · 11 months
Note
Okay, I have this really long and angsty request for Ghost x male reader. Let me know if you're up for writing it and take as much time as you need, cuz when I say angsty, i mean it.
Ghost and Reader are dating, Reader is the team's chopper pilot and accompanies them on missions, picks them up if things get out of hand, etc. Before being sent on a mission, Ghost and Reader got into an argument about some silly stuff, during which Ghost, being the emotionally constipated man he is, said a lot of hurtful things to his partner. They were ignoring each other during the mission, as Simon was too proud to apologize and admit to his mistakes and feelings.
But then, as Reader was closing in with his helicopter to pick them up for evac, he was shot down and crashed, the pilot later presumed KIA.
Ghost felt guilty, he regretted the things he said and was miserable, as he lost the love of his life. A few months passed, the team helped him get through it. He was still mourning, but his friends made it easier to handle.
After nearly a year since the incident, during a mission, where they had to clear out an underground warehouse and get some important documents, Ghost got separated from the rest. As he tried to find them, he stumbled upon a closed door, with a chain and lock wrapped on its handles. He broke through it and didn't find the documents on the other side, but Reader.
Covered in blood, scars and bruises, handcuffed and hiding in the corner of the room, with a cloth tied around his eyes, shaking and crying as Ghost approached, scared that it was one of the enemy soldiers, about to hurt him.
The rest is up to you, as this is already too long lol. Hope it doesn't violate the rules, love ya!
WHERE THE WILD THINGS GO
- M!reader x Ghost
- Proofread:
- Genre: Angst (non-specified ending, so either angst fully, or angst w/ comfort)
- Synopsis: Request basically covers it. However, I decided to leave the ending more angst-like, though there is no specified ending.
⚠️Warnings: Heavy, detailed gore⚠️
Angst is happily inspired by the song breezeblocks, by Alt-J
@xweirdo101x your angst 🍽
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“You don’t know what you’re sayin’.” Simon firmly states, squeezing his eyes shut tightly in hopes it would calm his growing headache. This fight had been going on for near an hour now, with himself and his boyfriend, (y/n), fighting about the pilots possible promotion to field work. “It’s not safe for someone like yourself.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Simon? Am I not capable enough to you?” He snarls in turn, frustrated and upset with the taller male.
“That’s not it! It’s just dangerous. Nothing you’d understand considerin’ your work.” He was far too calm for this argument, only further irking (y/n).
“Considering my work?” He gapes, glaring down at the Brit. “I’m not an idiot. I know the risks! You know what, I don’t see why this is up to you. This is something I want.”
“Fine! Go ahead! Get yourself killed, see if I care!” Simon immediately snaps back, causing (y/n) to flinch back.
It’s silent now. Only the sound of (y/n) holding back his cries, and Simon’s angered pants echoing throughout their quarters. Before the Brit can get the chance to speak, the shorter male is out the door.
“Fuckin’ hell…” Simon groans, taking his seat as he cradles his head in his hands. He had royally fucked up, and that much was clear. But, was he surely in the wrong? (Y/n) had no clue the risk he’d be making if he were to fully place his life on field..
Simon was just looking out for him. He clearly knew what was better for the man’s life. Why wouldn’t he listen..?
════════════════
The argument had clearly done damage, having the two avoid each other these past few days. (Y/n) had been happily spending his time with Gaz, a close friend of his.
Of course, it didn’t go unnoticed by Simon, who scowled at the sight. Gaz meant well, he knew that, but in the time where he couldn’t get the attention of his own boyfriend, it was irking.
“Keep glarin’ like that and ye’ll burn holes into ‘is head, Lt.” Soap comments teasingly, though he immediately backs down as he’s treated with a similar glare. “What’s got yer knickers in a twist?”
“(Y/n) and I had a fight.” He states plainly, his eyes glueing back onto the man’s figure.
“A fight? Jesus Ghost, the two of you’ll be back together in not time.” He chuckles, clearly not understanding the severity of said fight.
“I said things I didn’t mean to… practically told ‘im I didn’t care if he died..” He pauses, taking in a sharp inhale, his eyes still refusing to move from the other “I didn’t mean it.. I just worry… I don’t- I can’t lose him.”
“Why don’t you tell him that after the mission, ay? I’m sure he doesn’t hate you, Lt. You’re both just confused, love-sick kids.” Soap chuckles, nudging into the male with a bright flashy grin.
Ghost doesn’t reply verbally, but instead nods. His eyes finally manage to break free, moving to look towards Soap. “Alright. After the mission.”
════════════════
The given intel had been faulty, leaving Price to desperately call in for an evacuation as his men fought for their lives. “Captain,” (y/n)‘s voice eagerly calls through the radio, his words choppy due to the propellers of his aircraft “heard you needed some air support.”
“(C/n)! Glad to hear your voice, you daft muppet.” The captain teases in turn, glad to have his most trustworthy pilot ready.
“Gonna need you lot to get to a higher point, let’s say.. the water tower.” He grins behind his headset, knowing it wasn’t the most practical point, but who was he if he didn’t enjoy a little danger?
“On it.” Price returns, making a move to examine the area for said tower. “You heard ‘im boys, make it to the evac point, preferably without scratches.”
(Y/n) cackles, eagerly aiding them with few assisting shots. “Try not and get yerself killed, lad!” Soap, just as chaotic, shouts back through his own radio, watching the hefty aircraft glide through the skies.
It’s all fun and games to him, the typical action of attempting tricks with his plane, shooting down at those least expecting of him, and causing absolute misery for his team that prayed for their own safety.
It’s the point of which the team is at the water tower, and when he goes to pick up his boys, he finds himself panicked.
He’s been shot at. Multiple times, nonetheless, and it leaves him crawling down into a nearby forest. A plane on fire and only himself to try and safe him from death.
════════════════
“(Y/n)!” Ghost shouts out, watching as his lover is shot from the sky. His eyes wide as he sees the aircraft go down, followed by dark hues of smoke and a large fire starting up in the forest nearby. “We have to go for him, Price! We can’t just leave ‘im there!” He begs and pleas, looking to the captain hopefully, only to see the man shake his head.
“You know we can’t. That’s one life over multiple.” He strictly states, already calling in for a backup evac.
Ghost panics, frantically trying to push past to climb down the tower. He’s held back by Soap and Gaz, and despite them being just as upset, they knew the captain was right. One life lost was better than all of their lives.
“N-No! We can’t leave him! Don’t leave him! Price- we can still get him!” He cries out, desperately trying to escape their grasps. “Don’t let him die! I don’t- can’t lose him! Please..” Shouts turn to choked out sobs.
It’s out character. To see the Ghost sobbing and begging like a toddler pleading for a toy. He looks absolutely broken. Having lost everything yet again. A cruel joke from God.
He practically dies as he sees the explosion. It shakes the ground a little, and the small wooded area lights up with ash and fire. He gives up, dropping his weight into the two sergeants as he simply stares. He stares in horror and remorse.
He never got to apologize. He’ll never get to apologize.
════════════════
Months had passed. Ghost a broken man, a shell of what he had so generously built up to be.
He refused to speak.. refused to eat and sleep. Most hours of the day spent drinking or lying in bed without thought.
The team often trying to aid him. To provide the comfort he so desperately craved.. but nothing compared to the warm embrace of his lover that he oh so desperately needed.
Why hadn’t he just apologized and admitted fault..? Why hadn’t he just been a better lover?!? Fuck! Why hadn’t he just left the pilot alone in the first place? Nothing good came to those he loved..
════════════════
His pained breaths echo throughout the cell, wheezing and hissing in pain as he’s beaten black and blue. He’s drenched in various substances, alcohol, water, and even his own blood. Multiple forms of torture having taken place throughout the weeks.
He’s not sure how much longer he’ll live, nor does he know if his team would ever find him. He was on his own, alone and injured.
“Are you going to speak yet?” His captor scowls, holding his head up with a tight grasp to his hair.
(Y/n) only stays silent, his eyes rolling back in a dazed state. It seems to displease the other, earning him another hit to the gut, his head being thrown back before he’s spat on.
“Filthy rat.” He hisses out, turning to a small table of many surgical tools. The man holds up a pair of heavy duty scissors, a sinister smile on his face as he tauntingly tilts his head. He holds the scissors up to (y/n)’s hand, catching over two fingers. “You won’t be needing these anymore, now will you?”
There’s no time to reply, the blades slicing down to meet, clean through his fingers as he shouts in pain. He bites down on his bottom lip, holding back any noises as he stares at the stumps of fingers in pure horror.
“Are you going to speak now? Or should I take more?” He snarls, dipping the man’s hand into a glass of alcohol. A process he had done with every new wound. It earns a meek and choked whimper from the other, but he continues to stay mute.
He’s almost grown fond of the way his blood circulates the golden hue of whiskey. A cruel reminder that he was still alive and bleeding for the time being.
How long until they grew tired and killed him..? How long until Simon found him?
════════════════
Within the eighth month, Simon grew back into old habits. Requesting that he leave on a solo mission. And Price agreed. He gifted the lieutenant with a simple task for starting. A quick in and out of gathering intel.
He took the task with hopes. Praying that an overload of work would help him forget. Help him bury the past away and prevent these hauntings.
And so, he prepared to leave within the next few days..
════════════════
(Y/n)’s head lolls of onto his shoulder, expression glum and bloodied as he looks to his captor with amusement. His silence taunting, and he simply stares. It clearly angers the man, earning him another bone cracking hit.
It’s not a long break, having his hair roughly pulled at, head being forced back into place. Dazed eyes meet fierce ones. His captor scowling, a ghastly expression.
“Such a fuckin’ tough guy, ey?” He spits, grabbing some sort of pliers. A sadistic look crossing his eyes as he brings the tool towards his face. “See how fucking tough you are when I break you piece by piece.”
The pliers make contact with his eye, a discomforting touch at first, though slowly growing into a searing pain. He screams and thrashes in an instinctive panic. The tool works with ease, wiggling about within his socket, loosening his eye before pulling it right from its place within his skull.
(Y/n) is a sobbing, panting mess. His face far more blood soaked, and lack of eye nothing but a pulsating pain. He’s not sure how much more he could handle.
Yet desperately, despite his pains, he silently prays. Prays for his teams rescue. He knows they’re coming. They have to be! But yet, he can only hope.
════════════════
The warehouse is of easy access. A likeable cause that word of his presence got around, leaving for the group of terrorist to leave in a hurry.
It made the task easy. All he had to do now was seek out the documents he was sent for. But.. he stops in place, tensing where he stands. An eerie, yet familiar sound, calling out to taunt him.
Faint, broken sobs echo throughout the silent building. The sounds playing from beneath the floor. Beneath Simon’s feet.
════════════════
He’s far too gone. Sitting in a haze of pain and delusion. He prays over and over again. Begging for an escape, so be it death.
And when footsteps echo from above his abused body, he desperately sobs in hopes his saviour would hear him. His state of delusional thoughts leading him to believe it was an angel.. one here to take away his suffering.
He’d been alone in this room for near a day now, having been left behind as the group fled in panic. And no matter if this sudden appearance was good or bad, he planned to be found.
════════════════
Ghost is quick to act, searching out for the specific hatch. And he’s thankful it’s rather obvious. A small door hidden beneath a carpet, leading down to a door, seemingly a basement.
As he reveals the door, the cries grow louder. His body moving on its own as he rushes forward, hastily kicking down the door.
The the smell alone is awful, having him gag and grimace. But the sight.. his heart drops down, and his throat tightens into a panic.
Within the middle of the room, tied to a chair, his assumed K.I.A lover sits; beaten and broken, sobbing pathetically as his head hangs low.
“(Y/n)..” His words a hoarse cry, immediately rushing to free the man. He’s quick yet cautious, calling in for immediate pickup, alongside medical aid.
“Shh, it’s okay now luv.. gonna get you cleaned up.. fix you up, yeah?” He mumbles and soothes, rocking the wounded man within his arms. Though his words act as more a promise to himself than to the boy. “Don’t leave me.. please don’t go..”
He’s a mess himself, panicked and cautious as he holds the boy like he was broken glass. “Oh dove.. what have they done to you?” Simon whispers, noting his injuries as he rushes outside to try and get to the evac point. “Just stay with me.. stay awake luv.”
“Come on, just a little bit more..” he desperately pleas, practically stumbling along with how eager he is to rescue the boy.
And he does it, he gets to the aircraft, passing off his near dead lover to the many doctors. They work quick to hook him up to many machines, and the plane takes off..
It’s a blur of panic and desperation to keep him alive. Something Ghost himself isn’t sure of, considering his state of being. The heart monitors constantly changing.. too low, too high, normal, and repeat..
His body lies limp on a stretcher. And with a closer look at the damages done, Simon can only think..
He should have just apologized. Told (y/n) he loved him, that he was okay with the man joining the field… fuck..
He should have just been a better lover.
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© Copyright @jimmy-j-james, 2023
All rights reserved
do not copy/paste, claim as your own, post on different sites, or translate without prior consent from me
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seelestia · 1 year
Note
If you really want to write something for me (crab 🦀) then how about some Kaveh fluff because he is way to relatable right now, especially in my current situation (doesn’t have to be though, I didn’t expect you to want to write something for me so get a bit creative with it lol) 🦀 🦀 🦀
— 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲 & 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲.
SUMMARY. when you offer a friend a suggestion on how to increase his efficiency, you don't expect your intimacy for him would also increase alongside it. (he doesn't expect it too.) (1.5k+ words)
CHARACTERS. kaveh + GN!reader.
GENRE. fluff, angst with comfort, friends to ??? (when ur friend starts looking a lil too good for some reason...).
CW. references to kaveh's backstory, implications of crying and stress (kaveh our beloved <//3), reader wears reading glasses (cool stuff) and rambles abt naps.
THOUGHTS. ik all kaveh simps and kinnies want to give him a hug, so here you go! i cherish him vv much. to 🦀 anon, let's just treat this as like your commissioning me in a way (i hope this ficlet is alright?? i'm rusty hhhhh) ♡
✰ masterlist.
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"Ughhhhhh."
So, the rumors amongst the people of the Akademiya are true, after all; that there can never be a silence that lasts too long when a certain man with blond hair is present.
"Gahhhhhh."
For someone who is still at the prime of his life, KAVEH sure looks like he has already aged a hundred years in the span of a single night. But according to the people at the Akademiya, this occurrence is nothing out of the ordinary and as someone who has known him for years, you can absolutely concur with them.
With a hand on his temple and a heavy sigh that weighs a thousand troubles, there is no other way for the blond male to express his frustration besides verbal means — and to that, too, you are a witness sitting across from him on the table.
Guess that's just the price you have to pay for agreeing to help him when he begged you yesterday. According to him, your "job description" is just to stop him from dozing off because a deadline from a client of his is nearing way too quickly for his liking.
Thus, here you are — watching him do his work while you do your own work on a table at his place (or more precisely, his room in Alhaitham's place but you don't want Kaveh to fly into a fit of rage).
"My head hurts," Kaveh groans.
"Because you've stared at that blueprint for hours now," you answer.
"My back hurts too," he complains again.
"Because you haven't changed your position ever since we started sitting," you retort again.
If anyone were to ask for some sort of proof about the frequency of Kaveh's grumbles, the fact that you could respond so naturally and quickly while barely taking your gaze off the documents spread out in front of you, as if you've done this so many times before (which you have), would have sufficed.
"[Y/N]," Kaveh calls your name in a dramatic whine, "You're supposed to sympathize with me...!" But you don't find the need to look up from your paper when you can almost feel the pout forming on his lips already.
It isn't as if you don't want to empathize with him, but that sight of his pout happens to be quite adorable — does it count as being mean if you want him to keep it on for a bit longer? Ha, what a strange feeling.
"Then, why don't you take a nap?" you give him a suggestion as you look up to spare your colleague a glance, "I'll wake you up in about 20 minutes or so."
That look of hesitance on Kaveh's face makes you raise an eyebrow. "Sounds tempting, but are you sure doing that wouldn't waste more time instead of saving it?" the man tilts his head questioningly with a frown as if he is unsure of the right answer himself.
"Idiot," you blurt out.
Thank goodness the circumference of the table isn't wide enough to interrupt your movements as you put down your reading glasses and reach out to pull on Kaveh's cheek gently. He, as the one on the receiving end, doesn't think the gesture is as gentle as it looks though.
"Hey! Ouch, ouch—" Kaveh cries out a little yelp that is a perfect representation of his surprise. "Let me ask you this," you release his cheek from your grasp and he expresses gratitude to the Dendro Archon like never before while you continue, "Why do you think you've been staring at that blueprint without being able to function properly?"
"Uh, umm," he stammers, "...Because I feel tired, maybe?" Again, he sounds unsure of himself but that is most likely because you've shaken off half of his brain cells by pinching his cheek just now. Fortunately, judging by that satisfied expression on your face, he seems to have gotten it right.
"Good," you nod approvingly, "Naps have been proven to provide relaxation, reduce fatigue, and increase alertness. The most optimal time for adults is between 10 to 20 minutes."
Kaveh listens to you intently, but that dumbfounded look he has on almost says otherwise. Noticing this, you decide to feign an aura of seriousness as you add, "I was being generous when I offered to wake you up after 20 minutes, by the way. I could've set it to 10 minutes instead."
"You're ruthless," he gapes.
"So, are you going to take a nap or not?" you stifle a giggle.
"Seems like that's the best option I have right now," your dear friend can only shrug his shoulders defeatedly. In order to prepare for his nap, Kaveh sets aside the blueprint he has previously spent hours working on and neatly folds his arms on top of the table.
"Sleeping on a desk isn't very comfy but it'll do," he heaves out an exhausted sigh. Not even one second into placing his head atop his folded arms, he is already missing the softness of his bed back at home — but he can't really complain, so he closes his eyes in silence despite the slight discomfort.
You observe, picking up the disgruntled noises Kaveh makes as he shifts around to find the right position to lay his head. This quiet moment where your banters with him finally die down is when you can truly see the burdens weighing upon his shoulders and your gaze can't help but soften.
Despite how empathetic he appears or how his dramatic antics always elicit a laugh out of others, you know Kaveh really has been through a lot — and you wonder if you didn't suggest he take a nap, would he have neglected his health to do more in a state of low efficiency? Does he often allow himself some time to rest like this?
"You're really tired, aren't you?" your voice lowers into a soft murmur.
"...Yeah," his answer comes out quieter than your question.
"Deadlines are killing me. I know it's meant to help me be organized and all," you see how he opens his eyes to glance at the blueprint mere inches away from his face, "But right now, it's putting more pressure on me than anything."
Kaveh exhales another drained sigh, "And I still have my debts to worry about too. God, when will this all end..." His voice eventually trails off into an evident crack like he is about to choke, "So many things at once, I feel like it's all crashing on me..."
Your heart clenches. He's about to cry, you note.
"Hey," you speak tenderly. "Don't frown so hard, it'll make your head hurt more," you extend your hand to rub soothingly at the deepening frown on his forehead with your thumb. "Oh, s-sorry," his lips try their best not to tremble when he lets that apology slip, but you're not here to scold him.
"Even if it all comes crashing down on you, you'll be able to push them all off eventually, right? One at a time," you say as you rub a few more circles on his forehead to soothe his headache. You're not certain on how he'd receive your words, so you purse your lips with a tinge of reluctance, "Even now, you're still working on it, aren't you? Don't beat yourself up for not reaching your goal when you're still in the process. That's not fair to yourself."
There is a moment of silence before you hear a series of sniffles. "Curses..." he mumbles with a pathetic chuckle, "Look at me, putting this all on you when I'm supposed to be taking a nap." Just as you're about to shake your head in denial, Kaveh's eyes flicker to meet yours — and you're momentarily stunned by how they look.
Mesmerizing irises in the color of red stare back at you; they're glassy as if a single touch would make them ripple and a dam of tears will burst from it, yet filled with unspoken gratefulness.
"And... thanks for saying that," he smiles, "It's been a while since people actually took my problems seriously, s-so um, shoot—" Darn it, his tongue just has to mess up at the worst timing! Kaveh picks himself back up with a small cough, "Uh, anyway, what I was about to say is that it means a lot to me... So, thank you."
He peers at you worriedly after finishing his words, concerned that you'll laugh at him instead. But rather than a laugh, he is met with the softest smile and Kaveh swears— he swears that his heart has never thumped this hard before. Never ever.
"I'm glad," you say and suddenly, he feels oddly exposed underneath your gaze. He has always been more used to your sterner yet caring side; so, this gentleness of yours is sending inexplicable warmth rushing through his veins.
Oh no.
How is he supposed to sleep now?
Then, comes the sensation of something in his hair and Kaveh winces before registering the fact that it's actually your fingers that are combing through his hair. The shock easily fades into relaxation and he lets out a sigh of contentment, "That feels nice."
"Should I stop?" you ask.
"N-no," his hand grabs onto your wrist almost desperately as if keeping it in place. "Keep going... please," Kaveh utters the last word so meekly you almost mistake it for a whisper.
You smile to yourself.
"Sleep well, Kav."
Perhaps, you uttered those words with more love and newfound affection for him than you realize.
And maybe he, too, realizes the same.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─
✰ TAGLIST: @meimeimeirin @hcikazu @tsuk4sa-yug1 @catcze @semi-orangeapple @yuuki4646 @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @daisydkj @omgscaramouche @coquettemaiden @lemontum @herdrops @lleoll @xiaosonlybeloved @chiisananingen @irethepotato @ainescribe @blooodyvampy @starlightaura @jihyuniepark @duhsies @maybemiko @lordbugs @sakkaku-squared @lupicalbestwolf — [ bolded names are unable to be tagged because of url changes or visibility settings + register here to be a part of my taglist! ]
© SEELESTIA, may 2023. do not repost, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own.
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lowkeyrobin · 30 days
Note
Platonic Ghostbusters x social media manager! Reader?
oooo hell yeah!! ; thanks for requesting and I hope u enjoy :)
GHOSTBUSTERS ; social media manager
summary ; you run the official ghostbusters social media platforms
warnings ; language
word count ; 746
masterlist
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Podcast wanted to run the official Ghostbuster social media's but was quickly turned down at that. They needed someone who could actually be on top of that kind of stuff and whatnot. So, Stanz made a deal with Podcast that they'd get a social media manager, and he could act as their teammate with that, basically. Giving them ideas, giving them video clips and extra details, etcetera.
Most of the others didn't see a real reason for a social media manager, but as long as it wasn't their money.
Trevor offered to just do everything himself, but that was obviously turned down as well. The teens all agreed not to let the adults run the account either. They didn't need millennial - Gen X / Boomer humor flooding the whole account and making them look bad.
And that's where you came in.
surprisingly, Pheobe was the one to find you. she's seriously the most chronically offline person ever so the fact she ever opened Instagram was a miracle in itself
lots of talking back and forth and meeting the original four three ghostbusters to get input, then meeting callie & garry and the teenagers
you actually figured out that you used to be friends with Lucky as well, damn
you had managed social media accounts before, but you'd recently quit a few of those because of labor laws being broken so, yknow
you quickly formed a bond with Lucky, Trevor, and Podcast. you were kind of close in age to all three of them and they were all invested in the public image for the brand
setting the Instagram up was genuinely the funnest thing ever
the four of you were chilling in the living room in the firehouse (since sleepover stuff, pheobe was in her room reading) and you had your laptop in your lap and the three of them over your shoulders
the amount of laughing and cackling got some scolding from callie upstairs
it took everything out of you to not make the first post a video of trevor being soaked in Slimer's slime (which had been recorded by Lucky just by coincidence as they were investigating the attic again)
the first three posts, which were pinned, all lined up to be like a banner kind of logo with the theme song in the back, and they all played the same video, clips of the og ghostbusters and how they grew and then the new ghostbusters
the tiktok is its own thing, you allowed trev, lucky, podcast (and pheobe) to run it, but everything had to be ran by you first because pr shit
but thankfully no boomer humor or slang is ever being put on those accounts
most of those people don't even know wtf the internet is anyways lol
stanz has a personal vendetta against you /hj after you posted a .5 of him for relatable promo. he had no idea what you were doing but it was criminal that you made his forehead look so much more bigger than it already was
Winston gives you a bunch of old pics to post to trending angst sounds as well LOL
let's not talk about that tiktok where you, lucky, and trevor dance to/remake submissive and breedable by smosh ft bbno$, okay?
^podcast and pheobe were behind the camera cackling the whole time
lots of random pic posts on the insta as well because why not (most of them are the teens looking awkward, callie, gary & lars trying to look like cool scientists, or venkman, stanz, zeddemore & melnitz being classic, sassy old people)
the socials are never professional whatsoever, it's fun but it's not heavily controversial or obvious that you're there as a pr manager basically or just to manage the socials
like man they don't have the time to look at all the comments, take all the advice, reply to fans, etc
I mean that wage ain't that bad either LMAO
trevor is always bitching about how you make more money than he does /lh
you're not just a representative to them, you're actually family. you're just cool like that
"bro y/n is such a mc I hate them" and you'll reply on your personal w a "says you, reality shifter" or smthn LMAO idfk
always reposting ghostbuster edits / fanart etc because fandom culture 🙏
also I can't get over the fact the ghostbuster theme song is canon now either. yk damn well that shit is plastered everywhere thanks to you 💀
"do the ghostbusters respond??" "stanz said he loves your dog" "HELP HSEIJDLAKE"
10/10 experience
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lingering-42-long · 3 months
Text
The Last Goodbye
When they are Kia
Cod characters x f! reader
Inspired by MW3 and the tragic events that occurred this will be a three-part series if I do not get writers block lol.
So sorry for the not posting as much! It’s been a really crazy month and a lot of things had happened and caused me to have a bit of a depressive episode so thank you all for being super patient!
Warnings: mentions of death
John Price
You saw it on the news first before you got the visit. Your breath hitched when you saw the news of the air strike that had hit the base where your husband of 12 years was stationed at everything was decimated. And you couldn’t call or check to make sure that he was all right as he would not have his personal cell phone with him. It wasn’t until two days after the attack did two uniformed military officers showed up at your door holding prices old hat and SAS badge and dog tags. How they got them so quickly, you weren’t sure, but the news came like a sudden wave of cold water. “ we are so sorry for your loss.” One of the officers told you. The body would be arriving shortly within a week or so for proper burial you two had purchased side-by-side grave plots. And the will was already drawn up well before all of this had happened. John was a very precise man and always make sure to think 12 steps ahead. He knew his job was rough and he knew that at any moment he could drop dead. He made sure that his life insurance would be going to you, which was some relief sense the army didn’t pay much.
How to tell your daughter, that her father was not going to be coming back. What is the worst thing you could ever do to her young heart. She was only eight years old. She adored her father practically worship the ground. He walked on. She was always his little girl, and now the war stripped her of him. Stripped you of him..
When she came home from school, you had to sit her down. You held her hands, and with tears, you told the heartbreaking news. The young girl did not understand at first on why her father wasn’t coming back, and once again, you explained that he had died in action, and he would never be able to come home you’re a little girl started to cry, and when he tried to comfort her, she bolted from your arms and ran to her room, slamming the door, and she could hear her wails. You yourself cried yourself to sleep for the first few weeks all the way up until the funeral your friends and family members gathered around you doing everything that they could to comfort you and your daughter people were calling in every single day talking with you for hours on end, while other people stopped by to bring you food.
Every day it felt like a horrifying nightmare. The one that reoccurs every single time slightly more horrifying than the last. As you were going through your stuff and trying to decide what if his you wanted to keep and what of his you wanted to donate you noticed on your phone you had gotten an email from Kate Lasswell. She had sent a video to you actually several saying in the email that he wanted you to have this and gave her explicit instructions in case if he was to ever die.
Pressing the play button, you watched as his face appeared in the camera as he sat down and smiled at you. The way, his eyes twinkled and the crows feet around them creased. “ hello dove” he started at first and you had to pause the video because you were overwhelmed with the emotions. When you stabilized yourself again, you continued. “ I know it’s been a long time since I’ve talked to you and I know that if you’re seeing this, it means that I have passed….. mission was going to be botched no matter what I just didn’t want to tell you the statistics at first…” he paused himself, as he seem to be collecting his words in his own voice was shaking “ I really wish I could come back home to you. I told you that this would be the last mission that I would do before retiring… I promise to take you out on that date that you wanted to go to that fancy restaurant.” he paused again, closing his eyes, and releasing out a large sigh.
“ I’m sorry I never got to take you…. I had so many plans to do with you and Alice… it doesn’t seem fair that I didn’t get a chance to do that” once again, you had a pause the video so that you could take a minute to cry. The plans that you had with each other right now by the wayside. You unpause did it again, and continued on listening. “ I know right now you’re depressed.” he stated, folding folding his hands, and leaning on the desk in a slightly business fashion way. “ in the email that Kate sent you there is several groups that you can join that are for the spouses of the deceased militant partner. Please join one as well as make sure our daughter also goes to one for kids. She’s going to need that support… you both are.” he smiled again, but it was a Sad smile. “ I also made sure to have a college fund started for her. You don’t have to worry about it until she’s ready. There should be plenty of money for her to attend all the way up until graduate year as long as she goes to a decent university. Make sure it’s only used for that if she chooses not to go to university or to go to a less expensive one, you can use the money to buy her a car or whatever she needs to get her life started…. I’m sorry this had all come to this…. As you know I have set aside a life insurance, and the beneficiary goes to you. I also saved up a lot of my savings as well. Feel free to use it as necessary.” he knew that you were going to be smart with the money. “ He paused and looked at you “you are my beloved…. I’m so sorry my dove that you have to face this alone. Please take care of yourself. Find a husband that loves you like I did and a good father figure for our daughter.” This made him tear up. “I will wait for you in heaven and I will watch over you both. You mean so much love. No one or nothing can separate this love. The email that is sent to you also has several videos for Alice. For her birthdays, graduation, moving out to university, marriage and their child. I made sure to make a video for all of that… I also left many for you. Please don’t hesitate to just let me listen to you… I love you.”
The video ended and you sat in the chair, Thinking things though. He set life up for you and your daughter. He was still looking after both of you. You cried for a bit before getting up and knocking on your daughters door. Your little girl opened up with tears on her face. “Hey baby… daddy sent you something.” She sniffed as you picked her up and took her to your old husband’s office. After sitting down with her in his old chair, you turned on the next video. “Hey Angel!” John’s face lit up when the camera started you could see he had been crying. “Angel, im not coming home, it’s not that I don’t want to but it’s because I got called up to heaven. I want you to do something for me my sweet, I want you to watch over momma ok? She is going to need you and you are going to need her. He glanced up as if looking at you then looked back down at his daughter. “You are such a special little girl. I love you so much. Momma has the other videos for you to watch when you grow up. I’m so so sorry to leave you like this. I did not
I did not want to go. I know you were looking forward to see me and so was I… you are my sunshine. My only sunshine.” He stated singing the song he sang when she was down or sad. “You make me happy, when sky’s are grey. You never know dear, how much I love you, so please don’t take my sunshine away…. I love you my angel.” The video ended. Your daughter looked at you. “What now?” She asked. “Well… now we do what daddy said… we do our best to move on, but not to forget him. We will be OK.” You held her as you too watched the sunset fade beneath the horizon, a beautiful white dove landed on he window, cooed and looked at you before flying off into the golden rays of the pink sky.
Simon Riley
You were cleaning in the kitchen when you heard a knock at the door. Putting the sponge back in the soapy hot water. You wiped your hands and made your way to the door. Two military officers took at the door, Solum faces as they greeted you. “Hello can I help you?” You asked
“Mrs (y/n) Riley?” One of them asked.
“Yes that is me.” You looked at them worried.
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant Simon Riley was killed in action.” The officer said gravely as he handed you a box of his things.
You took the box with tears in your eyes. The men told you that his body was found and would be returning soon. You thanked them and closed the door as you held the box tightly in your arms and sunk to the floor sobbing. Your sweet Simon. He was gone, never to come home to you and your son. You knew it was a dangerous job, but it never really hit you till now. Your husband, the man that always let you take off his mask, the man that would cuddle with you at night and rub your back after a long day, the father of your 3 month old son who he would stay up late to let you sleep. He was gone, ripped apart from you. How were you going to tell your son about his father, the man who loved his son from the moment he was born. You cried on the cold floor till you fell asleep, still holding onto the box. You woke up to the sound of your son crying in his room. Getting up, you walked and a dead sonter to his room. Tomas your son named after your husbands brother, was crying in his cradle. Carfully you picked him up and held him close. He looked so much like his daddy, blonde hair, dark blue eyes, fair skin. “Shhhhh my love” you rocked your son with tears in your eyes. “Daddy isn’t coming back.” You stated as a hiccup got you. “He loved you so much…. He loved me.” You knew your son wouldn’t remember this but it was still so sad to hold your little boy and know he would never have a father and son bonding.
You sobbed as you held onto him. Tomas sensing his mothers destress, he quieted down and cooed. After a while you fed him and put him down to bed once more. You opened the box after sitting down with a hot cup of tea, ready to take on what you needed to. With a sniffle, you opened the lid to reveal his skull mask, the dog tags that he wore, his SAS badge, and a few other things. “Oh Simon” new murmured as you carefully picked up the mask and set the box down as he traced over the lines to his skeletal features on his balaclava. It smelled like him. That rich, earthy smell, that he always seems to have with a hint of gunpowder and bourbon. It was a lingering sent, but it was a good one at that. You held the mass close as you leaned back on the couch and close your eyes. You already missed him more than you did before maybe it was because you knew that you would never see him again, to have him be in the house and be present with you and your son. You would go on with your life fine you are a tough woman, one of the many reasons to why Simon married you, but it was your son that you were worried about. You wanted your son to have a father figure. A dad that he would learn to grow up and love. Simon never had that sort of dad, and had always wanted to be that way for his own children.
Now Simon was never going to live out his dream, and Thomas, your son, was never going to have that sort of special bond. I thought made you incredibly sad once more but no tears fell, your eyes were all dried from the previous crying. The weeks came and the funeral happened, your husband looked peaceful in his casket. You wanted some alone time with him first and held his stiff, cold hand. “ Thomas will miss you… I will miss you. You were my rock and shield. It’s going to be hard without you Si… I will always love you and miss you.” The funeral took place and it was a sad time. The team of 141, your family and friends helped with whatever you needed. Now, you were cleaning out things from your late husband. As you were cleaning out his bedside table drawer, you saw a note, folded up neatly. Curious, you unfolded the lined paper and read the words on the paper.
“My dear (y/n), Birdie if you are digging in my drawer then that means I have passed, the mission was botched… I’m sorry… I know Thomas is in good hands with you. Please don’t worry about money. My account will be given to you. As I am writing this, it’s late, you’re sleeping next to me. It’s the night before we leave… I am looking at you for the last time, taking in all your beautiful details. Your face is so soft in sleep, you look so angelic. I am going to miss you… I know you will miss me too… I’m sorry I haven’t said ‘I love you’ that much. I hope you know I cherished and deeply loved you. I still do. I know you are a strong woman, that is what drew me to you. I know you will move on. If you wish, find someone who can love you and our son just as much as I loved you. I will be waiting for you when you come. I will always be watching out for you. Please don’t let our son forget me. I want him to know how much I loved him and you. I love you my Birdie, my beautiful wife. ~Simon.”
You held onto the paper and cried. This was going to be ruff. You were going to be ok. A sense of comfort filled your mind and warmth flooded your body. “I love you my Simon” you smiled and the familiar sent of him wafted and you felt his warmth envelop you.
Gaz
when the news reached you, it hurt like 1000 tiny little daggers. You had just gotten married to Gaz, your Relationship was just beginning. The two of you had been high school sweethearts. Times had gotten tough for both of you and you broke off your relationship before time being until you rekindled it once again, realizing that he was the only person for you. You had only gotten married a few months prior and just had your honeymoon before he was shipped off. Four months he was gone. And he was supposed to come back in two, however, the letter that you received told a different story. He would never be coming home. His body was blown up so badly that they couldn’t find all the pieces to him. We would do everything that they could to get the majority of him back home so that there could be some proper burial. This broke your heart. He would never get to share the life with you that you too so desperately dreamed about, a small home, somewhere on the suburbs of London with a dog, and maybe a child somewhere down the line. That was your plan at least but now things have changed, and now your beloved was gone.
It had been a few weeks since the death, and the burial of what was left at him. You had moved back in with your parents for the time being. As you were cleaning up your room, doing the best to get over your grieving you noticed a note on your bed they have been delivered by your mother earlier. Carefully you walked up to the letter and looked at it. It was addressed to you by Gaz. A sense of panic swelled in your chest. Did he really survive? Or was this some cool trick that somebody was playing? Quickly opened the envelope, and you looked at the letter the date showing that it was a month ago that he had sent this; before his death. With shaky hands, you begin to read the chicken, scratch lettering, tracing over every word, and taking to heart as if it was the gospel.
“Hey Love!
Things are crazy right now! We’re going to be going into a city not too far from here. I’ll make sure to pick up some stuff for you. I know you’ve been wanting to decorate the house for a while and I’m so excited to see what sort of projects you’ve been working on? How’s the art piece coming? I remember you telling me that you wanted to start up painting again. We always had such a pretty drawings. I have no doubt that they’re not going to be beautiful. I hope you hang them on the wall for us to see. I miss you. A part of me wishes that you were here at least the part that isn’t the most violent. Unfortunately, we’re not in the best area we are being attacked left and right. Don’t worry sweetheart. I’ll be home soon! I promise I’ll fix the leaky faucet. I know it’s been driving you crazy. I I sent a letter to my folks, but could you tell them that I miss them as well? I want them to know how much I miss them, but I think I miss you the most. When I get back can we get a dog? Also, can we have like a full day of playing video games just with you and me? I know I sound like I’m rambling, but it’s just what’s on my mind recently. Late night cuddles with you while playing Mario kart. It just sounds so relaxing right now. I’m really tired. Well sweetheart, I better get to bed. I love you and I hope that you have an amazing day tomorrow and the next and the next after that.
Your Husband,
Gaz”
Hugging the letter, you cried your eyes out. Tears streaming down your face as you laid on the bed, holding onto the last remnant of what your husband left you. It sounded as if he was somewhere in a safer, better place. You hoped that he died quickly that he didn’t suffer and his last thoughts were good thoughts. A breeze drifted into the room from your open window and a warm bit of sunshine hit your cheek as the breeze drifted passed it felt like a stroke on your soft face. He was there sitting beside you, even though you couldn’t see it, you could feel his presence. He was safe and he was watching over you.
Johnny McTavish
The news has gotten to you quickly. It was actually delivered by Price himself. You couldn’t believe it. Your Scottish highland your man was no longer going to come home to you. He was shot through the head. Taking a bullet to save a life. Your young son, John, named after his father, was going to be home from school soon the devastating news hurt you more than anything else out there. How are you going to tell your six-year-old son that he was not gonna have his daddy near anymore? Who was going to play football with him in the yard? Who is going to read bedtime stories? Who is going to play in the rain with him? Your son needed his father that boy looked up to his dad, like he was the sun, its self. The news hurt you hard calling his parents and his family was going to be hard as well if they had an already heard the news. He was close with everybody and his family and he had quite a large family.
The upcoming days to the Memorial as you wish to have been cremated, were hard and brutal. Everybody that you knew, and your friends and his family all gave their condolences to you and to each other he was loved and well liked by everyone your son took it hard he didn’t understand why his dad wasn’t coming home and cried and cried and cried it was like that for almost a whole week, he was doing so bad that you had to pull him out of school for the time being because he was unable to function properly. You did everything you could you hold him tight in your arms until he cried himself to sleep at night in which you also cried your own silent tears. You would go walk on the open, Highlands that overlooked the beautiful scenery where your husband, his father’s ashes, cast out upon the open landscape. A small memorial was placed there in memory. You would have picnics out there are frequently, simply listening to the birds call from high above and feel the warm sun cast It’s beautiful rays. They felt cold and dull to you, but you did your best to hold out for your son.
Cleaning out the closet with all of his stuff. What is your next task as you were taking some of his old stuff down you noticed a hard drive they had fallen out of one of his pockets with your name on it. Curious, you took the hard drive and you plugged it into your laptop. It open the file which had a video and it. You clicked play.
The video with your husband sitting on the couch in your living room, smiling at you “Hello my bonne Lass. if yer seeing this then ye know what happened and I don’t think I need ta say anymore abou tha’. I am so sorry that I cannot be with Yer. I love ye so much. I love our son John so much. Please remind hem’ every day how much I love him. Please play football with hem as much as ye can. Please read to hem every night fer me. I know it’s a lot ta ask with what’s going on but I think it might be good fer both of ya ta share tha’ quality time. I’m gonna miss ye both, but I’m always going te be with yer. I’m always going to be watching over mo little family. Don’t worry Lass, life insurance should cover a huge portion of everything. Hopefully it can help provide some security fer you and fer John. I also have tha’ university fund ye wanted me ta set up fer him. Let the money grow and add te it. If ye want by the time he turns 18 he can open that account. The files are actually in my cabinet on the right side of the desk. It has all the important paperwork and documentaries yer gonna need. I really wish I was there with ya Lass. I’m going to miss holding you at night and whispering I love yous.” His beautiful eyes stared right back at you with his stupid little mohawk and broad shoulders facing the camera. “ I know you got this, please don’t ferget about me, but I do want you moving on. Find a man that makes yer heart is happy to be with as it was with meh. I know it’s a lot ta ask for, and I’m not expecting ye ta get married right this instant… I want ta see ye happy I want to see you taken care of. I love ye, my princess.” he reached over to turn off the device that he was using, and the video ended abruptly. A new wave of tears hit your face as you laid your head on the desk and cried for the fifth or sixth time in the past few days. Your son came in the room and gently touched your shoulder. “It’s OK mama! Daddy’s going to be with us. He’s just going to be invisible.” he was quoting some thing that you had told him. When you had to break the news to John, you had told him that the angels up in heaven needed his daddy to help fight the battle up there because he was so good at his job. One day he would be able to meet his daddy up there as well. Now John had taken this to heart and there’s now quoting this in hopes to make you feel better. You carefully picked up your son and held him close to you. “ you know you’re the best against your father had ever giving me? When you were born, he had tears in his eyes and he was hugging you and kissing all over your face and just absolutely doting on you 24 seven. He told me how proud he was of you. He told me how proud he was of me. Those were good times.” Your son gently hold you tight in his own little arms. “ it’s OK mama will make it out together.” You could almost feel a kiss on your forehead as if…. As if your husband was leaning over to comfort you.
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yayeetsonny · 3 months
Text
One can only take so much… before they break
(Alex Morgan X OC)
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Hi, yes i know i’ve been away for a very long time, but I wanted to give this writing thing another shot to see if I still had anything left in the tank. Hopefully this isn’t the most dreadful thing you’ve ever read. So sorry if it is. Please be advised this one deals with some very strong emotions and topics. Implied mental abuse, Suicidal ideation and just overall sadness and anxiety. This will be a multi parter as my fingers got away from me lol.
This one is 99% Alex x OC, although the character’s name is never dropped as I wasn’t sure if I was going to make this an x reader fic or not. If anyone has any name suggestions at the end I’m all ears. And future parts will definitely be more USWNT x OC
3.4k Words
Everything is your fault. It always is. Why can’t you do anything right?! It all fell apart because of you! You know that, and so do they. They hate you for it. Your own mother won’t even talk to you.
“Hey, kid… Kid?…Dude!” I was so lost in thought I didn’t even hear one of my teammates calling out to me.
“Huh? What?” I looked up to see Alex looking down at me worriedly.
“Are you okay little duck?” She said squatting down so she was eye level with me. She put her hand on my cheek rubbing it softly raising an eyebrow when i didn’t say anything immediately.
“Hmm? Oh yeah, I’m fine.” I said softly, making a poor attempt at a smile but I’m fairly certain it came across as a grimace instead. I looked down and refused to look back up even though I could feel Alex trying to get me to look at her.
“Hey… what is it?” She said moving her head so she could look into my eyes, which at this point were watering and I was doing my very best to force the tears away.
“I-It’s nothing… I-I’m fine.” I said, my voice breaking. I brought my hand up to rub my eyes and I stood up and tried to make a quick get away, but Alex wasn’t having it.
“Stop, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” She put her hands on my shoulders to try and stop me from leaving but I pushed her off and started to walk away.
“I said I’m fine, just drop it Alex. Please.” I gave up trying to stop the tears, they were freely flowing now and i let out a sob as I broke into a full sprint when I heard her starting to follow me, calling out to me. I ran passed several of our fellow national team, teammates who were watching everything unfold.
I beat her to the locker room, grabbed my stuff and made a mad dash to my car, getting in and attempting to regulate my breathing. The tears were still coming in full force, sobs racked my body as I tried and failed to calm myself down. How pathetic is this? Crying like a big baby, because your mommy made you sad? I really am weak aren’t I? No that’s not true. The girls always tell me I’m strong and that I’m their brave big girl. Yeah it’s a bit baby-ish but it gets the point across. I wrestled with my own thoughts and was so engrossed in arguing with myself that i didn’t even realize I made it back to my apartment already. I also didn’t hear my phone ringing incessantly while I drove. I hesitated a bit seeing as it was Alex, probably trying to figure out where i went. It almost went to voicemail before i decided to answer.
“Hello” my voice was raw from all the crying I did, but I sounded more tired than distraught now.
“Baby, where did you go? What happened back there? Why did you run away? Please talk to me. I’m worried about you.” She said all in one breath, I bit my lip contemplating my answer. Then i took a deep breath and decided to just bite the bullet and be at least partially truthful.
“I… um, I was going thru a-a lot during the break between camps, I mean I guess I still am going thru a lot right now, given my very apparent meltdown earlier. I-I’m sorry Alex, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I won’t do it again, I swear.” My damn voice started breaking again as the tears started back up.
“Hey, hey, hey… little one, please breathe, you’re okay. You have nothing to be sorry for. Take deep, slow breaths, in and out.” she said gently, guiding me thru some breathing exercises until my breathing was less erratic. “Can you tell me where you are please? I’m going to come get you and we’ll talk this through and maybe we can order a pizza and watch movies, what do you say?” She asked, I could tell she was trying to remain calm but I could hear her voice quiver just slightly. She was scared, and rightfully so, this isn’t the first time I’d run off and usually when i did, I became self destructive at worst and let myself rot in bed for a week at best.
“I’m at the apartment.” I said and she let out a sigh of relief on the other end of the line.
“Okay good. I’m on my way, be there in 10. Stay there, please.”
I took one last deep breath before I got out of the car and made my way inside. I intended to sit on the couch and wait for her to get home but then the more i thought about having to talk to Alex about what’s been going on the more anxious i became. I started pacing and started mumbling to myself about what i was going to say and how I was going to say it. I wanted to let Alex in but I knew if I wasn’t careful I would let her in too much and I wasn’t ready for that. Being 17 and all my ability to regulate my emotions and understand them wasn’t the best as I’m sure you’ve already figured out.
10 minutes went by quickly and Alex was there before i knew it. She quickly made her way inside and dropped her bag by the door, coming up to me and taking me by the shoulders again to get me to stop pacing.
“Stop, please. You’re spiraling, what’s going on?”
“I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Like what? Is it your family? Soccer?”
“Family.” I mumbled, attempting to yank myself out of her grasp but she just wrapped her arms around my torso tightly so i couldn’t run away. “Let go Alex I can’t do this. Please let go.” I kept fighting against her hold but she wasn’t relenting, and while i would’ve denied it in the moment, I needed that.
“Shh, shh bub, just relax. I’ve got you. I’m here now it’s all gonna be okay, okay? I promise. Please just let me help you.” She said softly and I finally just allowed her to fully pull me against her chest, she relaxed her grip just slightly moving one of her hands to the back of my head, stroking my hair softly, resting her chin on the top of my head. “You’re okay, you’re safe now.” She whispered, and she continued to mumble reassurances to me as she rocked me in her arms slightly.
“Do we have to talk about this?” I mumbled.
“Yeah kid unfortunately we do. You know the rules when you decide to run away like you did earlier.” She kissed my head before picking me up with ease and moving us to the couch. She kept her hold on me and let me curl up into her lap, I tucked my head in the crook of her neck.
“I don’t want to.” I attempted to say firmly but it came out as a whine.
“Remember what I said? It’ll all be okay. I know this is scary but I’m not going anywhere and anything you tell me isn’t going to scare me away. I promise you. You’re my brave big girl, hmm?”
“I’m 17, you know?” I said in an attempt to seem tough.
“And that’s why i said you’re a big girl. But you’re still the baby on the team and little one to me.” She said chuckling softly. “You can do this.” she said after a moment rubbing my arm gently.
“I can do this.” I repeated to myself. I moved myself out of the safety of Alex’s arms slightly, putting some distance between us and turning to fully face her, steeling myself for the tough conversation ahead. I’m a very sensitive and emotional person so these conversations always make me cry no matter how much I try to stop it.
Do you want me to call the rest of the girls? Is this something they should know about too?”
“Too many people. Not ready, I think it’s better if I tell you everything first and then maybe only tell them the gist of it after.”
“Okay, then that’s what we’ll do. Whenever you’re ready.”
“I guess I’ll start at the beginning. So you know how in between camps and during off season I go home to be with my family? Well I went and everything fell apart, and it’s all my fault. Just like everything always is.”
“Hey, no don’t say that.” She cut me off, she hates when i am self deprecating.
“Its true though. I fucked everything up. You know how my brother and I work at the same place right? Well and you know how my shift is closing? So I work 1-10pm? Which my mom hates.” She nodded her head as I was talking to let me know she was following along. “Well one night it was bad… The weather was horrendous because in my hometown we get a lot of snow. A-and so one of the days I worked I was one of the f-few people to show up and, when everything was all said and done there was a huge mess left behind from the disaster of a day we had….” I was beginning to become emotional just thinking about what had happened that night, and i hated that it still made me feel such strong emotions.
“It’s okay, do you want to keep going?” Alex asked me softly, stroking the back of my head softly. she knew sometimes that talking about things was hard for me and that i needed to take breaks in order to get the whole story out.
“Yes i need to. I can do it.” I said determinedly. Blinking away the tears.
“Anyways, it was a mess and being a “Back up Team lead” sometimes i made a decision to send everyone else home and clean up. And since my brother worked on overnights I called him and asked him to come help me clean up so that i could go home at a semi-reasonable time. He came over to help but when they wanted to send him back to his normal area he refused and he s-started arguing with his boss about how he was going to choose family over his job at the moment and they d-didn’t like that so they sent him home for the night, and he didn’t have a car so he called my mom to pick him up…” I stopped to catch my breath as i realize I hadn’t been breathing
“Shh, easy baby, nice, slow deep breaths, you’re doing so good.” She said. I hadn’t been looking at Alex very much this whole time but when I finally did I could see unshed tears in her eyes. I knew it was hard for her any time i was upset or emotional in a negative way. She gently wiped away the tears that made their way down my cheeks.
“My mom came to get him, and then she called me, and she was angry, she demanded I come home so I did and when I got there she told me she had a lot of opinions about what happened but she was just going to keep her mouth shut. She told me to get out of her sight so I did. She wouldn’t even look at me. Just like that I was transported back to when I was a little kid and she would get angry and she would just tell me she didn’t want to look at me. It felt like a knife to the chest. I didn’t understand what i did to upset her so much and I knew she wouldn’t tell me. All part of her “healing process.” I said bitterly.
“Fast forward to the next morning, I woke up to the news my brother had been fired. I called him to apologize and I asked him what our mom said to him and he said that she blames me for him getting fired. She said I should have known better. I knew how much he needed that job.” My hands were shaking and my breathing was ragged as I played with the strings of my hoodie.
“That wasn’t your fault, you have to know that.”
“Yes it was. It is. He hasn’t found a job since and he-he’s struggling again. You remember what happened last time he was struggling don’t you? I can’t do that again, I can’t! Everything he does, every decision he makes that’s not good is my fault. My mom wants me to be “an example” for him but he’s older! How fucking twisted is that?! Why are things never his fault?!” I yelled standing up suddenly startling Alex.
“Okay, okay let’s take a break hmm?” Alex stood up holding up her hands to show me she meant no harm.
“No! You don’t get it! Everything is my fault! My own mother thinks so! I know he’s struggling but can’t she see I’m struggling too?! ” I threw a plastic cup that was on the table across the room.
“Stop. Now. We don’t throw things when we’re upset, do you understand?” Alex said sternly.
My lip wobbled as I started crying again. “I’ve spent the last 4 years trying my very best to hold my family together through everything we’ve been thru. I got my brother the job working where i do and now I’m the reason he lost it. And now he and his girlfriend risk being homeless because she doesn’t have a job either. And if they lose their apartment they move back home with my mom, which means I’ll probably have to move back to be there with her because I can’t just leave her there by herself with them. It wouldn’t be fair. Which in turn means I’ll have to put my life on hold. The life I finally made for myself.”
I’m so tired of being emotional exhausted. I can’t keep doing this. I don’t even want to be alive anymore.”
“Woah, hold on… what do you mean by that?” Alex’s eyes widened as she processed what i said.
“I mean what I just said I don’t want to be alive anymore okay? I want the pain to stop. I need it to stop.”
The silence that followed was long and tense. I immediately regretted saying what i said. But realized i couldn’t walk it back. Alex finally took a deep breath and began speaking again.
“How long have you been feeling this way? Do you- Do you have a plan?” She asked quietly, her voice breaking as she did.
“No I don’t have a plan, I just sometimes think about how much easier it would be if I wasn’t here anymore. And sometimes I think about hurting myself but i haven’t acted on it. And i’ve been feeling this way since last year, when my mom and i got into that big blowout fight at Thanksgiving. You know she didn’t even want me moving out here? She’s never really let that fight go.” I laughed hollowly.
“Thank you for telling me, and being honest with me. I know that wasn’t easy. Why didn’t your mom want you to move out here?”
“She thinks you and the girls have too much of an influence over me. She thinks you guys are “changing” me. She threatened to force me to quit playing soccer all together.”
“What? Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”
“It didn’t seem relevant.”
“Didn’t seem relevant?! How’s that? If i had known that I would’ve just had you move out here permanently!”
“Alex…”
“No I’m serious! I understand you’re still 17 but you’re out of high school and you should be able to decide your own path.
“I’ve been trying, but the situation with my brother gives her more reason to say i should just quit playing.
Alex goes quietly again and I can tell she’s thinking. I can tell she’s angry. She has never really liked my mom and visa versa, their relationship is courteous at best.
“I think sometimes you forget that you’re still a kid. I know that you have had a lot put on your shoulders and that a lot is expected of you, but your brothers choices that night are not your fault and I’m sorry he’s having a hard time and he might have to move back home, which yes will be hard for your mom but that doesn’t mean that you have to give up your life for them. They will be okay. I promise you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes i do, you wanna know how I know?” She said and I nodded meekly.
“I know because your brother is strong, and so is your mom. And while i’ve never met her I’m sure his girlfriend is too. You don’t have to hold anyone else up but yourself. Not anymore. Their emotions and their… predicaments are not yours to try and fix. i don’t want you going home for a while okay? It’s clear that it’s taking a toll on you and to be frank, This is your home. Here with me, With the other girls. We have you okay? And we will never leave you. Ever.”
I turned away from her and tried to calm myself completely. I was so over all the crying and I bet you are too.
“You’re probably so sick of me crying.” I said chuckling quietly. Alex Vehemently shook her head and wrapped her arms around me, kissing my head.
“Not at all, you needed to get it out. it’s never good to hold it all in like you did, you know that.”
“I know, I just…”
“Have a hard time letting yourself be vulnerable. I know love. I know. So here’s what we’re going to do. I think writing your thoughts out might help what do you think?”
“Maybe…” i said hesitantly.
“Don’t worry no one else will read it but you. And the only way anyone will ever know anything you write down is if you tell them. And I know you going home for part of the year is to help you be able to pay your half of the rent but don’t worry about it okay? I will cover any excess we have from the missing income okay? I meant it when I said your home was here with me.”
“Alex you don’t have to-….”
“Yes i do. You’re very important to me, and I care about you and the things you need. And right now you need a bit of a break.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
“Anything for you kid. Now listen I also want you to really consider talking to a therapist or a mental health professional about how you’ve been feeling okay? I won’t force you but I think you might benefit from it. And please talk to me, or one of the other girls if you feel like hurting yourself. I don’t want you to think you have to go thru that alone okay?”
“Okay i will.” She’s right, it’s probably about time i go to therapy, I’m still hesitant as sharing my feelings and the things i keep inside has never been my strong suit.
“Now, how about you go take a warm shower to calm down a bit more, I’ll order some pizzas and get the girls over here?”
“I’d like that.” I smiled softly and headed upstairs to do as she suggested.
About an hour later I was showered, comfy and sitting on the couch sandwiched between Alex and Christen. A “Chrislex” sandwich if you will. Tobin was on Christen’s left, Mal, Sam, Kristie, Rose and the rest of the team were laying as close to me as they could get and spread out through out the living room. Pizza was also spread out through the room as people shared with one another. We had Moana on as the girls said I could pick and that’s my go to movie. I was so focused on the movie i almost didn’t notice my phone buzzing at my side. I looked at the text that came thru and my heart dropped as I realized who it was from… My mom.
“You need to come home.”
Is all it said. My hands instantly started shaking and I had that panicking feeling rising in my chest again. Alex looked over at me curiously and I forced the fakest smile i could muster onto my face. I’m in deep shit now…
//
To Be Continued…
There will be a part 2 and the rest of the team will be in that one more, promise. Please let me know what you think!
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transboysokka · 4 months
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So my favorite character in The Brothers Sun is Taiwan. Like yeah Taiwan has its own shows and movies but it just feels Different to see Taiwan in a big international/American show! It’s SO cool actually and so um here are some thoughts I had and things I Noticed about different Taiwan scenes and things in the show idk
Episode 1
the opening shot of Taipei tells us this is a Thursday- the top of 101 is green and is a different color every day of the week
that corkscrew-shaped apartment building we see Charles living in is kind of an urban legend here in Taipei. They say it’s the most expensive place to live in the city, that each apartment has its own swimming pool, and that there’s an elevator specifically to bring cars up to display in your living room. No idea if the interiors look like that for real though
I was gonna say it’s pretty crazy he has an American-style oven in Taipei bc nobody does but actually in that apartment… yeah he probably would
afaik there’s not a way to (“legally”/officially) stream any of those famous British baking shows here rip
I do wonder if they actually filmed the opening scene in the corkscrew building or if they just really pay attention to detail because the skyline seen out the window matches up to what it would really look like from that part of the city
the shoes, I mean we all know about shoes-off houses but yeah
豆漿. Soy milk. Yeah
They definitely eat Hi-chews in one of these scenes
Episode 2
It makes way more sense for the guys to have snuck out for shaved ice as kids than youtiao… I’m just saying… like would *I* do that yes but it’s usually just like. A thing you eat with soup or breakfast
Episode 3
“Are you sure you can handle-“ “the heat? I’m from Taiwan.” lmfao BITCH Taiwan has some of the blandest cuisine I’ve ever tasted (he does think it’s too spicy tho lol)
“Keelung. A fishing village just north of Taipei.” Okay like I can see how the older generation would call it that but it’s actually a whole ass city…
Episode 5
Not a Taiwan thing but the Maotai made me laugh. It’s like the Coca Cola of Chinese baijiu and imho it’s just as awful as every other brand
Episode 6
ok the episode that made me want to make this list
the Costco shit IS funny because vitamins, baby formula, that’s all the good stuff you want to bring back from abroad BUT actually we have Costco in Taiwan and can easily get a lot of that stuff? This concept imo would fit a lot better for China than Taiwan. It’s still very much a thing to load your suitcase up with baby formula on the way home to China, and there’s actually a huge smuggling business bringing it in through Hong Kong but I digress
Idk why I’m happy to hear Changhua and Douliu mentioned in an American TV show… Seriously, I don’t know. They’re kind of like nowhere places I’ve never even been. I just feel like everyone’s grandparents live there.
Even the way they film Mama Sun on the plane. Like the Mandarin music in the background with the announcement for Taoyuan airport… to me it feels specifically like a transpacific flight to Taiwan lolol but that’s definitely like a bias probably
Okay not to be SO nitpicky but so when she looks out the window on the plane to see Taipei 101 etc I’m not sure about that? The airport is actually in another city and I feel like I usually come in around and over the ocean or something?
But WOW the taxi scene my favorite scene it’s SO visceral and SO Taiwan… the street, the lights, the Cosmed/Mos Burger/7-Eleven, the street noises, like I can FEEL Taiwan through the screen and HER FACE taking it all in I WANT TO SOB
The temple, beautiful like this episode makes me believe Michelle Yeoh is Taiwanese lol
I appreciate the viscerality of the night market shots too but it seemed a bit empty
Okay so Mama Sun’s mom is super rich too based on where she lives which I guess it makes sense. But what I am curious about is the story about why they’re speaking Cantonese because Taiwan has a lot of languages but that’s not one of them like officially at all. I wonder if there’s a character backstory there or they just like. Didn’t want to bother teaching Michelle how to speak Minnan or something
The cemetery too is so fancy, I mean it fits but wow that’s expensive real estate
In the hospital scene, Taipei 101 is lit blue out the window, making it a Friday. Has everything in the show so far happened in only 8 days?
Episode 7
“Last night the Boxers made their move” 101 says it’s Tuesday for anyone keeping track
I LOST it at the Foodpanda driver assassin the first time I saw this… So Taiwan
Big fancy church in Taipei? I know they exist but I’ve never seen one in person (like 2%? of the country is Christian)
A mom bringing back tea as a souvenir from Taiwan? 100% real
Episode 8
RAW is a real restaurant in Taipei. It’s very fancy and very expensive and had I think two Michelin stars. I don’t know ANYONE who’s actually been there lol
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luffyvace · 3 months
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〜☆〜Shigaraki and Touya (separate) x Scholarly reader with glasses 〜☆〜
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precisely what the title says~
Might post a lot lately because I’m trying to clear drafts :P
shigaraki with a intelligent reader is wonderful!
you can help him with his plans! 😋
your input is really valuable and whether the lov knows it or not you definitely play a big role in missions
your a mastermind who is very good at outsmarting the heroes
He feels like as long as he has you, no matter what you’ll always be one step ahead
your his Queen/King chess piece
together you’ll watch it all crumble
honestly I’m just assuming your in the lov because even if your not a official member you’ve certainly contributed a lot
to which he very much appreciates
He values your priorities and requests
as he said he always has room for his comrades wishes
you love him for that
never once has one of your plans completely failed
for example if all might destroys a bunch of your nomus even though they were supposed to terrorize the city
You don’t panic at all because it was all apart of your plan >:)
*rubs hands together like evil fly*
it was all a distraction so you could infiltration a hero base and steal some info and such….🥱
ez dub the heroes are walking L’s with skill issues 😂
WAIT IMAGINE READER DOES THE THING WHERE THEY PUSH UP THEY’RE GLASSES AND IT HAS THE GLOWING ANIME GLASSES EFFECT
HILARIOUS 😂💥💥
it’d be even better if your a tech savvy too
you can break into hero facilities better
plus screw with them if you want n all 💃
you and that emo long bob dude be competing (tomoyasu chikazoku)
you can first fr
READER BETTER>> READER ⬆️🔝
anyway shigaraki thinks reader with glasses is fiiiine 😍
fr like you look good!
he’ll probably ask questions like “did you make your own?”
“Where you born with bad vision or is it stigmatized?”
”when did you get glasses?”
”have your eyes gotten stronger or weaker?”
”do you keep them on 24/7 or do you take them off and take breaks?”
”do you get headaches from them?”
”is it annoying having to push them back up all the time?”
”are you farsighted? Nearsighted? Is it just for reading?”
now he’s not asking to annoy you, and these questions come with time he doesn’t trample you with them
he’s genuinely curious and is a pretty good listener
he’s not just asking just to ask it or anything
if you ever need a new pair he’ll find a way to pull through for you
he’s not always as resourceful as you but he does have some connections!
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Uhh with touya? Intelligence won’t matter as much
Not to say he’s not impress though!
he likes to hear all the random facts of knowledge you tell him and he does listen
it’s intriguing, especially when he’s bored
he’d love to learn about astronomy if you know anything about it
he never took the time to learn himself but if you were to mention it he’d recognize some stars because he watches them so often
which makes for good dates!
stargazing!
you go to all types of different angles to look at them together
another thing is Touya never really went to school if so not for long
so you probably end up teaching him and filling him in on a lot of what he doesn’t know
not stuff he doesn’t care about tho
only the important stuff
essentials
which I mean it’s probably not essential anymore the way you two are living outside of society but hey it might come in handy
if someone were to ask touya a question but they’re trying to trick him by using a complex word, If you taught him he won’t fall for it! :)
I mean don’t get me wrong he’s not stupid
but you certainly are a lot smarter 😁
If you brag about it he gets kinda annoyed LOL
like if you beat him in video/board games a lot
which you do, you win like 98% of the time
the 2% he wins is from all luck games
and even so if you learn how those games work it’s over for him 😂😂
Touya doesn’t mind that you wear glasses at all
he does see a difference when you occasionally take them off but he doesn’t think you look wonky so don’t worry
he might be a little curious tho
like he’ll ask how glasses work (especially since your so intelligent)
which might lead into a conversation about why not everyone has 20/20 vision
yeah your conversations never stay on track because all the follow up questions
although you don’t mind because at least you know he’s listening
you end up explaining to him how glasses are made and he asks if you could make your own since you know
which honestly isn’t a bad idea since you could customize it and add whatever you want to it
you definitely thank him for the idea
he feels so accomplished—like he gets to be the smart one for once 😅🤷‍♀️
a sweet thing he does for you if you get eye strains/headaches is like rub your temples/run you a hot bath 💝
it surprises you how caring he can be but of course he’s not completely heartless
another cute thing Touya does is coming to you randomly with questions
”what’s this??”
”what in the world does ___ do?!”
”why does ___ happen?”
”is this normal?”
”what do you do if ____ happens”
”what’s __ x __ again”
”what’s ______ + ______ (big number + big number)?”
oh and you probably have better memory than him so
“Do your remember my past code?”
is common too 😂💗
I started this a while ago but never finished it so I’m glad to finally get this off my chest.
enjoy! Let’s see if the shigaraki and Touya stans will show up🕺
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