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sterredem · 2 days

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She’s real!?

Charles Leclerc x reader

Face claim:

Summary: Charles has said he has a girlfriend for a few years now. But the longer people hasn’t seen her the more they think they he made her up. Until they are proven wrong

Word count: -

Warning: fluff, rushed, maybe some spelling mistakes.

A/N: the ending was ruched cause I am working on something bigger. But This has been in my draft for weeks so I wanted to put it out before the big thing.

Please interact or give feedback🫶🫶 it helps a lot

Charles knew that he was lucky. He had an amazing girlfriend, his dream job, great friends, enough money so that he could last a lifetime, fans that supported him and a family that loved him.

But not everyone believed that he had all that. It may sound a bit weird because they where all facts. …right?

Well not every on of them. The first one the girlfriend one. That one wasn’t. He claimed he has one. And he always brings her up, for 3 years now. And you may think ‘well why don’t people believe him then?’ Well that can be answered quite easily.

No one has seen her yet. Well not no one because his family and his closes friends have. But they have never been seen public, and if they did see her they didn’t know it because they don’t know who she is and how she looks. They know there is someone, just not how she looks, what she does or what her name is.

And that is why people don’t believe him. Even some of his close friends and colleagues don’t. His team doesn’t even believe him.

And that’s all because they wanted to wait with going public. They wanted to wait because Y/n was really busy with her school work and Charles was travelling the world for formula 1. They did live together in his house in Monaco. But they didn’t see each other that often. But they still managed to keep it private.

And they do want to make it public. But in the first year that they where together they decided to keep it quiet, and when they where in their second year, she was really busy with school and being in her year before her exams she needed to study a lot. And then with him travelling the world and having a lot of trouble with Ferrari they still didn’t have the time. And now in their third year together, she was in her last year of school and studying a lot and him starting the season again. They still didnt find the time to go public.

And when they did find the time they where together and enjoying the privacy they had. So they decided to not hard launch yet and just torture the fans and public with corny soft launches.

And while they enjoyed the privacy they had. Charles did find it annoying that his friends and fans didn’t believe him. And he tried everything, but he will prove that she is real. Even if it will cost their privacy.

When Charles walken in the paddock alone… again, people stared looking and asking questions. A bit teasing of course.

And when it was media day there were a few questions about his ‘girlfriend’ but he successfully dodged them all. Not that he didn’t want to talk about her. But his media team said that it was better to not answer them, and he talked to Y/n about it and she said that it if came up he could talk about her. But just not randomly saying stuff.

So as promised he kept quite about their relationship. And when Fp1 and 2 rolled around it was still going great.

Well besides the teasing comments from his colleagues and even his team.

And when qualifying came around it was going really great. He started on 5th place, with was not the best but still good.

But then Race day came and he was as pretty excited. He started on a good place and Carlos was back again.

He ignored it for now and talked with his engineer for the last time before the race.

Before he got in his car he checked his phone one last time to see y/n has wished his good luck, he smiled a bit at that. But when he looked up again he saw that Carlos shot him a knowing look.

|———————————<3—————————————|

After Charles was done at Australia he got on a plane. When he was in the airport he saw his girlfriend. He ran up to her and hugged her. After not seeing her for a few days he had missed her.

“Hey amour, I missed you” he said in her hair while hugging her.

“Hey love, I missed you too. So much” she said looking up at him smiling. What they didn’t notice is Joris taking pictures (not that they would mind).

“Would you want to go home or walk around a bit?” She asked with a slight smile while looking in his eyes.

“I think it would be fun to walk around wouldn’t it?” He asked while putting a bit of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah it would. Come on we should get to the car.” She said while grabbing his hand. “Hey guys good too see you.” She said addressing the other people that where with her boyfriend (and a few of the little people that knew about them and believed it).

“Yeah yeah. Good too see you too y/n/n. Could you just keep the PDA down or something?” Joris said reading a bit.

“Oh sure, I will just keep down being with my boyfriend after no one believes we are together and not seeing each other for a few days. You know you are lucky, you get to be with his all the time.” She said jokingly.

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Joris said while smiling at the couple. They really where something.

“Where do you guys want to go?” She asked looking at Charles again.

“We could just walk around the city and maybe catch the sunset, no?” Charles said while they all walked to the car.

“Yeah that would be fun.” She said opening the back door. “Who wants to drive!” She asked specifically to the other two boys not wanting Charles to drive with his parking skills.

“I could drive, Andrea so you want to go home? I can drop you off and give the lovebirds some time to catch up. ” Joris said.

“Oui, s'il vous plaît.” Andrea said while getting in the passenger seat. (Yes please.)

After dropping Andrea off at his home and walking around the city for a few hours they decided to go to a field to watch the sunset.

“It is so pretty.” Y/n said while looking at the sunset.

“Yeah it is.” He said looking at her. Admiring her.

A few hours later they decided to go hand and hang out there. Joris was with them for a bit longer after deciding to go home too.

Once it was just them they cuddled un in bed and talked for a bit longer.

“Hey Charlie I have a question.” Y/n said once the conversation dialed down a bit.

“What is that Belle?” He said looking- no more admiring her.

“Would you want to go public? And if when?” She asked playing with his hair.

“Of course I would want to go public. And whenever we are ready.” He said kissing his head.

“What if I just come to the paddock and surprise everyone. And we just randomly hard launch?” She asked looking at him.

Charles looked at her thing about it. “It would be fun wouldn’t it?” He asked smiling at her with a little smirk.

“Should we?” She asked him.

“We cou wait a few races, maybe chose a good one. We could stir up some thing. Maybe soft launch some?” He asked her now being a lot more serious then before when they just joked around and talked a bit.

“That would be fun.”

|———————————<3—————————————|

After Y/n postet that on her story a lot of people begin to notice. Especially because Joris was posted. So when people begin to put everything together they where shocked.

So with now people beleving Charles Y/n could finally be at an race. And that happened. And people loved it.

The drivers where shocked that she was real, so where the fans and the people that worked their.

But they where all happy for them

|———————————<3—————————————|

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fawnchives · 1 day

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♡𓂃 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆.

𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, christopher sturniolo & fem!reader.

episode summary: you and chris attend one of tara’s parties, where one first time leads to another unexpectedly.

parental advisory & ratings: slight angst, but it gets fluffier towards the end + established relationship with chris. talks and usage of drugs—molly to be specific, swearing, talks of sex and virginity loss, and nick locking in big brother mode.

♥︎ ⋆ ͘. behind the scenes. first things first: do not do drugs! in no shape or form am i promoting drug usage. anyways, this was well out of my comfort zone but i did enjoy writing it, i hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much — be safe ! 💐

april 20th, 10:47 pm ── beverly hills, ca.

ever since you saw the videos from tara yummy’s one million party, you’ve been begging for chris to take to you one. the puppy dog eyes and princess tantrums must’ve charmed him over because that’s exactly how you spent your friday night instead of curled up in bed, indulging in terribly written netflix shows and a tub of ben & jerry’s brownie batter ice cream.

though you guys weren’t in hawaii, the theme of her latest party was a luau—one of tara’s friends let her use their beach house; the perfect view of the ocean, the floral and beachy decor, and island style drinks and food. it was, well, perfect. especially considering that it was your first time going to a big party, nothing too crazy.

or so you thought.

the frilly and cheerful flower necklace that laid around your neck moved frantically with every move you made as you danced to the beat of the music with tara. the big speakers produced such a deep volume of bass that it made the walls in the house shake and the floor vibrate. and though you were having the time of your life, you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed over the fact that you were practically glued to tara’s side all night.

it wasn’t too much of your fault, everybody you knew was either busy or couldn’t make it; nick and matt stayed home, nick complained something about having a ‘debilitating migraine’ and matt was in one of his moods. madi got caught up in some sort of brand deal nightmare and the moment you arrived to the party, one of chris’s friends pulled him towards the drinking games table. you always felt a bit out of place around his friends so you just let it happen, not wanting to live up to the ‘clingy girlfriend’ title you’re sure they tease him about.

you and tara flashed each other toothy, anticipated smiles as you both walked over to a less noisy area, trying to catch your breaths from all the dancing you’ve engaged in. you two giggle and gush over how much fun you’re having when suddenly, the dj switches the track to a slower paced song, earning a thankful sigh from tara.

“thank god,” the short brunette dramatically exhaled as her arms fell to her sides. she looked around the room and quickly locked eyes with her ex boyfriend, jake, sending him some sort of hand signal as she motioned towards you. “hey um, hun? i think i’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick.”

“do you want me to come with?” you curiously offered, oblivious to what she was hinting towards. “you know, to stand guard.”

“oh, no need!” the girl singsonged, forcing a smile as her eyes darted between jake and one of the bathrooms down the hall. it suddenly clicked in your head, and you felt like a cockblocking moron. you awkwardly watched as jake pushed past a few people, making his over to you two—well, really tara.

“you should go find chris!” tara giggled loudly as she let her ex pull her away. that was her nice way of telling you to get lost.

11:17 pm.

after what felt like forever searching through a sea of people, you finally found chris. he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, talking to one of his friends. despite being a bit out of breath, you excitedly called out his name and waved at him. his friend quickly glanced in your direction, patted him on his shoulder, and bolted away just as you made your way towards him.

“hey—you okay, babe? you look tired.” chris questioned as his brows furrowed with worry the more he examined your state. he wasn’t lying, you were a bit tired from the dancing and walking around. but you didn’t wanna go home just yet. not so early into the party.

“i’m fine.” you shook your head as your boyfriend wrapped his arm around you. “just a little thirsty, all the dancing and stuff.” he kept his arm lazily draped around you as you two waltzed your way to the kitchen to find something to quench your thirst.

11:35 pm.

you and chris quickly settled on some punch, red cups filled with the delicious citrusy beverage as you both caught up with each other. you gushed to him about the dance frenzy you were in with tara and he bragged about how he totally “kicked ass” at beer pong. between the loud music and fast paced convos, you both didn’t hear the kitchen door swing open.

“chris sturniolo, i thought i’d see you here.”

you both quickly turned around at the sudden sound of a girl’s voice and your eyes are met with the sight of a tall blonde girl. your eyes darted between the semi uncomfortable look on chris’s face and the friendly look on hers—definitely laced with something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

you awkwardly coughed as you sloshed the rest of your drink around in your cup. “you two know each other or…?”

“we used to be, um—” chris nervously fumbled with the sleeve of his jacket.

“we go way back,” the girl answered for him, somewhat saving his ass from a whole lot of questions and awkwardness. she turned her attention towards you and smiles tightly. so fake.

“i’m brooke.” she reached her hand out for you to shake. you return the favor with a small smile back.

chris awkwardly cleared his throat. “right. y/n, this is brooke, brooke, this is y/n, my—”

“girlfriend.” the tall blonde answered for him again. “yeah, yeah…kinda figured. the way you had your arm around her earlier kinda gave it away. anyways uh—” you watched as she began to dig in her clutch purse and you couldn’t help but to feel a small pang of jealousy form in the pit of your stomach. you weren’t sure what kind of relationship she has with chris—or what kind of relationship she had, but the girl was drop dead gorgeous, the way her small black dress clung to her body showing off her curves…it was almost mesmerizing.

“speaking of introductions and stuff like that,” brooke said as she she slowly pulled out a bag of white pills from her clutch. “i’m hoping you two wouldn’t mind meeting my friend molly tonight.”

chris’s facial expression darkened as he pushed you behind him. “absolutely not, okay? y/n—she’s not that kind of girl.”

your stomach flip flopped, you’re weren’t stupid. you knew what was in that bag, despite your lack of knowledge and experience on it. though, curiosity gotten the best of you.

“wait,” you stepped forward, eyes darting between the bag and brooke. “i dunno, i mean, what’s it…like?”

brooke smirked as she placed two single pills on to your palm. “first timer huh? don’t worry, chris hasn’t tried it either. but if you really wanna know…” you leaned forward on the counter as she edged you with her words. chris scoffed and looked away, but made sure he stayed by your side despite being ticked off.

“…colors get brighter, sounds get sharper. you feel more connected to everything you love, that’s why they call it the love drug.”

chris angrily watched as brooke slowly walked off to a group of partygoers by the door, enthusiastically greeting them with hugs. he turned back towards you and sighed, shoulders slumping. “you don’t—you don’t have to—”

“no!” you squeaked back excitedly. “i do, i do want to, i mean. it’d be both our first time taking, um, well you know.” you couldn’t bring yourself to say the word. “c’mon babe, please?”

your boyfriend let out a defeated sigh as he looked around the kitchen before picking one of the small white pills out the center of your palm.

you two exchanged nervous smiles as you toasted with your red solo cups, downing the drug with the party punch.

12:30 am.

“c’mere,” chris giggled as he pulled your legs into his lap. you two were currently seated on the memory foam couch in the middle of the living room, center of the ongoing party. it was a little after an hour since you and your boyfriend took the pills—the pills which have definitely kicked in. brooke wasn’t lying, the colors in the atmosphere looked like something straight from a lisa frank collection, you felt light and airy asa feather. you giggled some more as you ran your finger through chris’s hair, his chocolate colored waves nearly having you under hypnosis.

“what is with you and my hair?” he laughed, gently pushing your hands away from his head.

“mmm, it’s just so…just so soft.” you lazily responded before booping the boy’s nose.

he lazily threw his head back against the couch and smiled at you. “you wanna know what really feels soft, babe? this couch—just feel it, like, oh my god.” you two bursted into another fit of giggles as you felt up on the couch cushions, soon melting and becoming one with the foam.

“i love this couch!” you gushed happily. “i love this house! it’s so awesome, oh my god!”

chris giggled at your euphoric state as he sat up a bit. “i’m so glad, i mean. i really am so glad for a lot of stuff. i was kinda worried when we first got here that the party would be a bit too much for you, y’know. i never want anything to ever be too much for you.”

“baby.” you smiled at your boyfriend’s intoxicated state.

“nooo, i’m serious,” he continued. “i just love you s’much, i know i can be high on energy like allll the time but sometimes i worry that i might be too much for you. and i was talking to the guys earlier and sex got into the topic, they asked if we’ve ever done it yet and, i dunno. i’m not sure if you wanna.”

“w-wait,” you stopped him, sitting up as soon as the word sex left his lips. “so, like, do you not wanna have sex with me?” you nervously chewed on your bottom lip as he quickly shook his head.

“no, no!” chris practically yelped. “i do, i really do, but i don’t wanna like…it’s no pressure! none at all—”

“i want to.” you suddenly found yourself on your feet, excitement and anticipation shooting through your bloodstream. “i’m ready. i wanna do it.”

“you sure—”

“i’m sure.” you nodded eagerly. chris smiled softly as he slowly stood up, wrapping his arm around your waist. “okay, babe.” he pressed a kiss along your temple. “let’s go find a room.”

april 21st, 9:30 am ── los angeles, ca ; present time & day.

chris absentmindedly toyed with the rubber band around his wrist as he sits on the barstool in front of the kitchen counter, watching nick prepare breakfast as he blabbers on about some sort of instagram dilemma; something about him not knowing which pictures to posts? dunno, beats chris, not like he’s listening.

which earns him a sharp scolding from the eldest sturniolo triplet. “hello, earth to fucking christopher. i asked you question like five minutes ago. are you gonna answer or are you gonna sit there staring into space like you’ve just seen a ghost or something equally fucked up?”

chris’s pale blues shoot up to meet nick’s. “hm?”

“okayyyyy…” nick turns his attention back to the waffle maker he’s been messing with for the past hour. three waffles made, three more to go. “what’s up—and don’t tell me it has anything to do with you being hungry. when you’re hungry, you act like a fucking warthog, not a spaced out idiot.”

the longer haired boy rolls his eyes in annoyance.

“something tells me it has something to do with y/n?” nick tries, eyes occasionally glancing up. “did you guys get into a fight? she’s been acting weird this morning too.”

the way chris’s shoulder slump tells nick that he’s right on the money—after what happened last night at the party? there’s been an uncanny amount of silence between you two and a dreadful, looming feeling of fear. and guilt, lots of it.

“no, we just—” the youngest triplet groans loudly as he buries his face into his hands. “we kinda had…sex.”

“you guys had sex!” nick shouts, causing chris to grit his teeth and throw an oven mitt at his brother. “god nick, could you be any louder? i don’t think the people on the first floor heard you!”

“i-i’m sorry,” nick responds in a whisper shout as he finishes cooking up the last round of waffles, sliding them on to a plate. “but that’s a really big fuckin’ deal—you two had sex!”

“we were high, nick, really fucking high…we took each other virginities, we weren’t thinking straight.”

“WHAT?!”

“nick, shut the fuck up!” matt whines from his room, slamming the door shut. nick and chris exchange looks before breaking out into a giggle fit, but it doesn’t last long.

“so let me get this straight,” nick pours syrup over his and chris’s waffles. “you guys got high, blasted out of your minds, and then fucked?”

chris nearly chokes as he washes down his food with apple juice. “even though thats literally what happened, don’t say it like that. it sounds bad.”

“it kinda is bad, chris.” nick shakes his head. normally, nick would be quick to scold his younger brothers whenever they did something so utterly stupid, but looking at the depressive state chris is in, he decides to give him the benefit of the doubt. “but it’s not the end of the world. you two did something pretty stupid and irresponsible, yeah, but there’s couples out there who have done worse. there’s still time to fix things between each other.” nick nods towards the balcony, where you been sitting out for most of the morning.

“she’s out there, go talk to her.”

you jump at the sudden sound of the balcony door sliding open. you turn around to see chris standing in the doorway. you give him a small wave and halfhearted smile before settling back down on the lounge chair you’ve been camping out on for the past few hours.

“hey.” chris greets softly, handing you a can of pepsi as he sits down on the empty chair next to you. you can’t help but to roll your eyes and laugh as you accept his carbonated drink offer.

“i’m sorry,” you both say in unison, causing each other to laugh. chris shakes his head once the laughter dies down. “i’ll go first; i’m sorry. last night should’ve went down differently, and i shouldn’t have let you…you know. mess around with that stuff. your first time should’ve been special.”

your brows furrow. “but it was special, chris. i mean sure, it wasn’t exactly how i planned my first time going but i don’t regret it at all. not a single bit. i even thought you were mad at me.”

the brunette nearly chokes as he looks at you. “mad at you? baby, i thought you were mad at me!”

“no!” you laugh. he laughs. you both laugh again. you guys look at each other and then look away.

“so we’re good, right?” you ask.

chris leans forward and grabs you by the waist, settling you into his lap. “yeah, babe. we’re good.” you two snuggle and enjoy the morning sun when suddenly, the sound of nick’s annoyed voice fills the air.

“you guys better come eat these fucking waffles! i spent an hour nearly burning my fucking hand off for these shits!”

likes + comments & reblogs are highly appreciated.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 tags. @sugrhigh @dominicfikue @kangelics @xoxo4chrisss @wovenribbons @ethelcained @cherrypostsposts

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader

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mariasont · 2 days

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The Manuscript - A.H

a/n: this was supposed to be based on t.s new song manuscript, but it didn't realllyyy turn out like that

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ��˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: while unpacking you find a series of letters aaron wrote to you in college

warnings: angst, age gap (reader is 20s, hotch is 40s), haley and jack don't exist in this universe

wc: 1.3k

Your gaze swept over the towering stacks of boxes littering your living room floor, and with a resigned sigh, you began the daunting task of unpacking them. Your hands found the nearest box deftly lifting the flaps as you began to pull out its contents. Your felt the soft crinkle of paper beneath your fingers, and gently, you drew out a stack of letters, their edges softened with time, all neatly tied together with a string.

Your heart seized a sudden halt as you realized just what they were. Your throat constricted, parched, as tears stung your eyes, threatening to spill over, your fingers coming to rest over your mouth. Instinctively, your body sank onto the cold hardwood floor, gently placing the papers down beside you. You had forgotten these had even existed, let alone made it with you on the move.

You didn't remember seeing them when you packed, did you? Your fingers shook slightly as they picked apart the knot, and with a hesitant touch, you reached for the first piece of weathered paper.

January 5

Honey,

Your letter was a welcome surprise, far sweeter than any text message could be. I enjoyed spending New Years Eve with you too, and I hope this case ends quickly so I can take you on a real date.

I'm glad to hear college is going well. Should you encounter any more issues with your professor, please let me know. You're a bright young woman, and I have no doubt he'll see that in time. I am looking forward to your next letter.

Yours,

Aaron

March 12

Honey,

I'm glad you enjoyed our date as much as I did. At times, I find my thoughts wandering to you in that dress, and it's a welcome distraction.

I'm glad you look forward to our letters, because I do too. And yes, rest assured, I'm taking all necessary precautions in the field. Don't worry, the team has my back, especially Garcia--she's got more eyes on us than stars in the sky.

Goodluck on your psychology exam. I know you will ace it.

Yours,

Aaron.

May 5

Honey,

I've read your letter several times, and I want you to know that it's perfectly normal to question your path. Trust your instincts--they've led you well thus far. Remember you are allowed to change your mind. Your parents will understand.

No matter what you decide, I have no doubt you will succeed. You have a rare combination of intelligence and empathy that will serve you well in any profession.

Once I'm back, how about we go to that restaurant you love? Consider it a date.

Yours,

Aaron.

July 19

Honey,

Summer suits you, I can tell--even from a distance. I'm proud of the work you're doing--shadowing at the occupational therpay office and working with children is no small feat. You'll have to tell me all about it when I get back.

The case is demanding, as they often are. And as for the sweatshirt, consider it yours. I had a feeling it wouldn't find its way back to me anyway.

We should talk about getting you a key to my place. Then you'll have no need to borrow my things--you'll have access to them whenever you wish.

I love you. I'll say it again when I see you.

Yours forever,

Aaron

January 14

Honey,

Congratulations on your first semester of OT school. I am incredibly proud of you and everything you have accomplished. Smarty pants.

I'm glad to hear you've been using the journal I gave you for Christmas. I would give you a thousand if that's what you wanted.

When I'm back, we'll celebrate your achievements properly. Until then, know I'm grateful for you every day. You've made me the happiest I've been, and I cherish every moment we share. I love you.

Yours forever,

Aaron

May 20

Honey,

Your last letter lingered on the topic of our age difference, and I've been giving it a lot of thought. It's a subject that, admittedly, has crossed my mind more than once. But let me reassure you, to me, it's the person you are, not the years you've lived, that matters most.

I understand the concerns that come with this, and I want you to know that it's okay. Your feelings are valid. We're navigating this together, and I remain certain in my commitment to you and to us.

We'll talk more about this when I'm home. I love you.

Yours forever,

Aaron

August 8

Honey,

I want you to know that I didn't mean to leave things unresolved, I'm sorry I was called away. I'm not writing to rehash the argument. I understand everything you said, and it's given me much to think about.

You are the most important part of my life, and us being at odds is more challenging than any case I've ever face. I love you deeply, and I'm committed to finding a way through this together. When I return, let's sit down and talk--really talk. I'm sorry for the way things were left, and I hope we can move past this.

Yours forever,

Aaron

December 22

Honey,

I find myself at a loss for words yet compelled to write to you. I've had time to reflect on everything that happened between us. I'm deeply sorry for any hurt I've caused, and how things unfolded. My only wish was for us to want the same things.

Please know, I will always be here for you, in any capacity you need. I hope you find someone who is worthy of you and can provide the life you deserve. You deserve someone who can walk with you through all stages of your life--someone who can give you the family you dream of. You have so much to offer.

You are an extraordinary person, and I have no doubt you will find great love and joy. And though it may not be with me, please remember, I still love you.

Yours always,

Aaron.

You hadn't even realized you were crying until your tears began to soak into the page, each droplet distorting the text as it spread. Your hand moved instinctively to your face, the fabric of your sleeve brushing against your wet cheek. A decade-old ache twisted inside you sharply, as fresh as if it were only yesterday.

You returned the letters to their stack, the bow tied as neatly as it was before, and laid them at the bottom of the box. As the papers found their place, your focus shifted, something else catching your attention--the journal he'd given you.

The sudden patter of footsteps coming down the stairs snapped you back to the present. Hastily, you wiped away the lingering tears and secured the lid on the box. As you turned, your face transformed with a practiced smile just as your seven-year-old daughter came skipping into view, her voice bubbling with excitement, "Mommy, mommy!"

Gathering her up in your arms, you showered her cheeks with affectionate kisses, her infectious giggles filling the empty house.

"When is daddy going to be home?"

With a gentle smile, you replied, "Soon, sweetheart," while your fingers danced along her side, eliciting more giggles. "Do you want to help Mommy unpack?"

She quickly scrunched her nose and shook her head. "Mmm, no, not really."

You laughed, and your heart swelled with love so intense it almost hurt. The front door swung open, and your daughter's voice pierced the air once more with a, "Daddy!"

Her little feet dashed off as she rushed to greet him, leaving you to resume unpacking. You barely had time to refocus when you felt a gentle touch in your hair. Aaron was there, kneeling to your level with a tender smile.

"Hi, honey," he said, his hand pausing as he noted the redness around your eyes. "What's wrong angel?"

You reach for the letters, holding them out to Aaron with a half-smile. "Just revisiting the time you were this close to losing the best thing in your life," you tease, a laugh bubbling up. But as the laughter fades, it morphs into a sob.

Aaron's laughter mingled with yours as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. "Yeah, that was a close one," he admitted, his voice a soft rumble. "Glad I came to my senses."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner #hotch #hotchner #criminal minds angst #cm #thomas gibson #Spotify

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solar-wing · 1 day

Text

⚣ Submission 🗣️

⚣🗣️ A/N → Something I couldn't get out of my head after I saw this TikTok. You can't tell me this wouldn't be Jason in this situation. WARNINGS: none

⚣🗣️ Summary → Imagine being in a relationship with Jason Todd where you know Jason could easily beat you in a fight but it never stops you from talking shit as if you’ll fuck him up, and he just lets you…

⚣🗣️ Words → 851

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🗣️

It’s not something Jason admits he finds amusing and adorable about you, but the fact that he lets you do it without any real pushback is telling enough. Because imagine, this towering and colossal-sized man, definitely over 6 feet and huge mass with the muscles to show and is a trained fighter (no matter how informal), getting beaten in a fight between him and his shorter and/or smaller boyfriend.

And it’s not to say you could never beat him in a fight, oh no! Your Jaybirdie would never want you to believe he doubts your capability and skills like that. Actually, he’d very much like and would encourage you to be able to learn how to take him down. It would help with his anxiety and fear of you being out in the world without him there to protect you, feeling more at ease knowing you could defend yourself if need be.

He’s definitely planning to make that a reality, because if you two are going to continue to be in a relationship, Jason needs to know that you can protect yourself without him there. It’s something you both talked about and he made it clear when you first got into a serious relationship about him and his family’s side careers.

But, until then, Jason will happily and silently enjoy the trash-talking and play fights with you. It just gives him more of an excuse to have your body rubbing against his, the perv…

It always starts small and silly.

Whether you’re just feeling playful or want attention, it doesn’t matter. You and Jason will be cuddling on the couch or the bed and engaging in your usual harmless domestic banter. Or he’ll be minding his own business cooking, reading, or going over cases and reports, and you’ll just come up and start messing with him.

Messing up his hair, poking him in his face, slapping his butt, and shoving against his body. Despite popular belief, Jason has a somewhat good level of patience and will endure it, but then you start talking shit.

“Oh, was that important? Looks like you’ll need to start over,” You’ll say after purposely jerking his hand while he was writing notes down on a mission report.

“Oops, looks like you dropped something. You’re so freaking clumsy,” said with a jeering tone after knocking the book Jason was reading out of his hands.

“Aww, is the little baby getting upset? Don’t cry baby, it’ll be okay,” You’ll respond in the most insulting baby voice knowing how much Jason despises it and usually ends up being his last straw.

The vigilante will give a soft shove and a warning look to you and that’s all you need. You’ll start taunting him even more and pushing yourself against him, grabbing at his wrists and arms as he holds you back.

“You feeling tough all of sudden? Am I going to have to mess you up like last time?”

Ding. Ding. Ding.

The next moment, Jason’s patience has officially run out and now, the two of you are rolling around on the bed, couch, and floor trying to pin the other. Well, you’re trying to pin him.

Jason’s just holding you off with ease and letting you slip out of his grabs now and then, letting you think you’ve got a chance. Of course, that leads to more shit-talking.

“Man, what kind of criminals are you fighting? You’re no match for me.”

Of course, as things will go when it comes to wrestling between two males, it eventually gets a little out of hand. You’ll shove Jason too hard, accidentally land a hit on his face or nether region, or you’ll even purposefully try to cheat to which your boyfriend responds by immediately putting you in a submission.

Never anything too rough or painful, just enough to immobilize you until you calm down and stop fighting back. But, even the non-painful ones are a bit much for you since you’re not used to fighting like Jason is, so you’ll typically give in within a few seconds, especially when he puts a little pressure on you and jerks you a bit as payback for all the trash talk.

It doesn’t stop you though, since as soon as you’re both done and back to whatever you were doing, you’ll continue to talk shit at your boyfriend like you had him in submission.

“Hopefully you learned your lesson.”

“We can clearly see who the big guy is in this relationship now. Don’t worry little man, maybe you’ll win again next time.”

“Light work. Maybe we should get you some classes small fry.”

And so much more trash-talking and playful jabs until the next round. But, Jason doesn’t mind. As long as he’s the one getting to put you in a submission at the end, he’ll let you trash-talk him all day, every day.

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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deadsetobsessions · 2 days

Text

Once more the hallucinations hit, and once more I am here writing it out.

My brain is fucking terrifying and I want out, so bad. This came to me in the form of a nightmare.

Also, please don’t take the timeline into consideration, because I have no idea what’s going on. Again, nightmares and dreams tend to not have the best coherency when it comes to plot and timelines. The reincarnation doesn’t have a name, I was too busy feeling terrified. Shit in parentheses was how I experienced the nightmare. Everything else is just me adding sprinkle sprinkle.

——

Ra’s al Ghul.

Talia al Ghul.

Two names that she had been aware of, in the peripherals of her hyper fixation. Two characters meant to enhance the story of the Dark Knight. Side characters, on a good day. Perhaps, a main antagonist on a better day.

On a bad day?

Main characters. Real, living people. Real, living, breathing assassins.

Unfortunately, they’re her new family. One she remembered coming into, bathed in a pool of blood and screams.

She was not a baby.

She is now, a baby. The first of Talia al Ghul’s children. The eldest, once Damian al Ghul was born.

Swaddled in emerald green and gold silks, she was presented to a man with silver streaked hair and a receding hairline. He too, was robed in green and golds.

“A daughter, Talia?” He rumbled, the smooth Arabic flowing out of his mouth failing to hide the acrid disappointment. The child, past the haze of confusion of suddenly being deported from her own adult body into one of a helpless child, felt a stirring of irritation. It’s good she learned the language, because now she knew exactly how Ra’s felt about her. The child grumbled a displeased sound. Not that she would have ignored the fact that her grandfather was Ra’s al Ghul. (He smelled like moth eaten fabric and blood- but I think that was because my cat accidentally scratched me.)

“My apologies, father.”

“Do not tell the young detective of this. Had it been a son, perhaps things would have been different. No, a daughter would only hinder him.”

Talia bowed, hands tightening on her daughter. “May I raise her, father?”

“A resource is still a resource. Go ahead, Talia.”

“Yes, father.” Talia took the dismissal and bowed before leaving.

On her way back to the room with the reincarnation’s crib, Talia al Ghul stroked her daughter’s head.

“I wish you were born a boy, my daughter. I am sorry my beloved will never know of you.”

The reincarnation looked at her new mother. She’s young, the woman-child realized. A teenager.

“You’ll have to be useful, my daughter. Your grandfather is not so kind as to keep the useless. I… do not wish for your death,” her mother muttered.

Great. She got new life and it’s already in danger.

——

She learned to swing a knife. Swords. She learned and devoured the teachings. She learned to be useful.

But then they asked her to take the life of a man who did her no wrong.

Her baby blues clashed with her grandfather’s Lazarus green.

She was still young. A child.

“No.”

“No?”

“He did no wrong.”

“He failed, granddaughter.” Ra’s smiled down at her, patronizing. Cruel. “Perhaps you possess your father’s heart, and you are foolishly sentimental, as women and children tend to be. But in the end, you are an al Ghul and you will obey. Plunge in your blade and I will reward you.”

The reincarnation looked at the man kneeling in front of her, resignation and a hint of pity in what little she could see of his face.

She’s already died before. What did she have to be afraid of?

“No.”

They tried to beat the weakness out of her. It didn’t work.

——

The reincarnation stared at the mirror, left alone in an opulent cage of gold and emeralds and precious stones that meant little to her now.

Her hands traced her back, small fingers finding purchase in soft skin. Her mouth opened fruitlessly, noise refusing to escape. She still felt the burning magic, the brand her own blood had carved into her skin and soul because she refused to kill. The chains her grandfather had shackled around her with magic and cruel amusement.

She had killed him, in the end. Obey, or be punished. Her body had moved without her permission, the reincarnation a prisoner in a body that refused to do as she commanded. The knife swung, a life taken, her hands dipped in red.

She learned a valuable lesson that day.

There were things worse than death.

“This is an order, granddaughter.”

The Magic had flared a searing heat at her neck, forcing her to kneel on broken legs. Ra’s loomed above, authority in his voice. She was bound to obey, regardless.

“You will never speak another word of affection, you will never speak another word to anyone unless I allow it. Perhaps this will teach you of your folly, and your place in this world.”

The loss of her freedom and the fear that came with it was a bitter and devastating lesson.

——

Ra’s al Ghul was so much worse than what little she knew of him.

She was right to be afraid for herself.

Her mother had worried, when she’d withdrawn and refused to speak to her. Even if she could, the reincarnation would not have wanted to. The reincarnation had felt furious, back then, when she thought of Talia. Her mother who refused to protect her. Her mother, who claimed she loved her but refused to see the chains Ra’s wrapped around her neck. She who plied the reincarnation with a supportive hand but forced her into the fighting pits.

But, as the reincarnation stumbled out on bruised and used legs from Ra’s al Ghul’s meeting chambers where he had allowed his business partners to partake in her, she realized that Ra’s was a monster in a human’s body and her mother was a victim of his making.

The lesson Ra’s taught her that day was that if she was not useful, if she did not kill, he would take what was left of her and make use of her.

Hate flared in her heart, and the beginning of Ra’s downfall began the day he let her go from the chambers alive. Injured, but alive. Injured and violated, but alive and furious.

——

She carved her hate and rage and helplessness and fear in the bodies of the people he bid her to kill. Her silenced screams were expressed in the way she splattered blood, the way she covered herself in it. A killing machine first, a stress reliever second, and a child… wasn’t on the list of things she was allowed to be.

His enemies were felled, one after another. He gave her his approval, something she detested.

But still, she continued, bodies racking upwards, tens turning to hundreds, hundreds edging into thousands.

The red in her ledger became ichor and guilt. Her language became violence and obedience.

“You have become a sharp tool, granddaughter.”

She was a genius, after all. And now, she could not disobey. A blade that Ra’s believed will never point towards him. She kneeled. She obeyed.

“Thank you, grandfather.” Her words were only allowed to come out- without searing, terrible pain- when she was thanking him. She tried not to do it as often as he wanted. He thought he broke her when he read the obedience she carved into her body language.

But she never bowed. Never. Not to him. Never.

——

“My weapon could learn much from your granddaughter,” David Cain sat across from Ra’s, wine in their stupid goblets. How she detested the green and blacks he’s seen fit to dress her with. She’s dressed provocatively, not of her own choice. She doesn’t have much of those- doesn’t have much in ways of choices- these days.

She was twelve, and Ra’s al Ghul deserved to die.

“Her combat is a higher form of what my daughter has achieved. How did you do it?”

When Ra’s began to reply, she slipped away.

She found the girl. She found… the cage- the black box- the child was placed in. The child flinched from her when she opened the metal box, fear only easing as the reincarnation kept her body language neutral and kind. (It was pitch black, and about the size of like, a closet. No light. Only from whatever door the box had.) (Cass’ hands hurt from banging on the walls to be let out)

David Cain’s daughter, her mind whispered, the memories of another life once more making itself known.

“Cassandra.” She whispered, regretting it immediately when pain wracked her body. She fell to her knees as the punishment for disobeying an order slammed into her.

The girl looked at her in concern, but did not move closer. The reincarnation stared at this girl and saw a reflection of herself.

David Cain would be here for a month. She will free Cassandra in those days.

——

The weapon stared at the girl in front of her, kneeling in pain.

She did not understand.

The girl came back. Water. Food. Kind.

The weapon felt warm. The girl was quiet. No sounds. Good. The weapon knew the girl understood. The weapon thinks that the girl is a weapon too.

The girl comes back, again. This time, she makes a sound. It hurt her, but she did it again. The weapon understands when the girl points at herself and repeats the sound. The sound means the girl. The girl expects something from the weapon.

The weapon makes the sound, flinching to see if the owner will come to punish it. The girl purposefully sits, relaxed but vigilant… and protective. Of the weapon?

The weapon relaxed. It repeated the sound, pointing at the girl.

The girl smiles, in pain. But approval. The weapon feels- the weapon is warm, like under the blanket. Approval.

The girl teaches her to make sounds but the weapon communicates without it. It does not like the sounds, does not need them, but the girl seems to think it’s important.

The weapon likes the girl, so the weapon learns. They still understand through no sounds, through reading each other.

The girl comes back, silently. Secretly. The weapon does not notify the owner. The weapon feels- does not want to.

The girl- the girl with the sound- she says a different sound. Her body tells the weapon that it’s important, this sound.

And when the girl points at herself and says her own sound, then points at the weapon and says that new sound again, the weapon begins to understand.

The girl had given the weapon her own sound.

“Cass—n- ra.”

“Cass,” the girl said, and Cassandra understood.

“Cass.” Cassandra pointed to herself.

The owner wanted- wanted Cassandra to end a life. Cassandra watched the owner kill and gesture to the dead thing.

Cassandra did not want to.

When Cassandra is placed back into the pitch black box, she waited for the girl.

The girl came.

“Don’t want.” Cassandra clung to her, reading the welcome and the sadness in the girl’s body. Cassandra tucked her face into the girl’s shoulder. She is cold. The girl is warm.

The girl hugged her back. The girl understood. Sadness hardened into lines of determination. Cassandra felt… light. Felt hope.

Cassandra slipped away from the place, water in her pack for the dessert and money to run from the country. The girl stayed behind, seeing her off. The girl tells her to never come back.

Cassandra did not want to leave the girl behind, but the girl could not go.

“Be free, Cass.” The girl had whispered through the pain. “For the both of us.”

——

Her grandfather knew. He allowed David Cain to break her, not kill because she was of use to him still, as a lesson. She found that she hated his lessons. But, she hated his attention more.

And still, she could not regret. How could she, when Cass trusted her with what fragile hope she had?

So, she lets him beat her, and provokes him with smirks and fearless eyes because the longer he’s focused on her, the more time Cass has to run.

Then, he gets too angry, and insults Ra’s, whose eyes grew cold. Her grandfather gestured and while she usually hated the command that followed that gesture, she could not feel that hatred now.

She got back up, legs broken and arms twisted once more, and attacked David Cain.

Ra’s would not follow Cass. Not when she was not his business to deal with, and not when David Carin’s fury amused him so.

David Cain would not follow Cass. Not while she still drew breath. The reincarnation stood, and threw herself at one of the best assassins of the century.

She tore his throat out with nothing but her teeth. She felt, for once, not like a monster. Not even when Ra’s nodded in approval and ordered for David Cain’s broken body to be cleaned up.

——

She’s been granted a mission in New Jersey, once her months of discipline- of torture- ended. She does not get ordered to find Cassandra. She’s fourteen now, and as silent as ever. Her mother had adjusted to her silence by then- long ago, actually, taking it as a quirk her daughter had developed. She hadn’t been a terribly vocal child, after all. Talia praised her for being useful even as a woman- the self degradation something the reincarnation had no doubt Ra’s had insidiously trained into Talia- and for being loyal to Ra’s.

Sometimes, she hates Talia for being- for-

Never mind. She couldn’t afford to hate anyone else.

She killed her targets early, determination and wistfulness urging her movements into sharp . Then, she made her way to Gotham and slipped into the city of darkness- where her father was.

She watched as he hid in the shadows almost as easily as she did. She watched as he flew and glided with the younger Robin. (He was younger than her by a year. She checked.) He was free. They were free.

She wished…

As she turned away, she saw a child tumbling from the edge of a roof. It was an instinct she’d thought Ra’s had managed to bury after the months he’d spent making sure she killed only children.

She hated him.

She caught him, swooping in and tucking him against her side as she plucked him from the air and plopped him back onto the crumbling roof of Gotham’s slums.

“Oh, thank you! So much- are you a vigilante?” The boy asked, looking at her masked face. It’s a good thing she wasn’t exactly dressed like a regular League operative.

She shook her head. Her eyes fell onto his camera, faint memories rising once more. She had an inkling-

“I’m- uh- Tim!” The boy introduced himself nervously, edging away from her silence. “Thank you for saving me…?”

She nodded. She pointed to the camera, tilting her head.

“Oh- you… want to see it?” He clutched his camera closer. Oh, he did have some sense of self preservation. She wondered why a seven year old was allowed to roam these streets… but she did worse at seven.

She held her hand up and back up. The boy hesitated, and then showed her the camera. “Uh- I took pictures of Robin and Batman!”

They sat on that roof for hours, and she let Tim Drake tell her stories about her father and his son. Ward. Son.

She could tell that Tim didn’t have anyone to listen to him.

She didn’t have long until she had to go back or risk severe punishment, but… she could make time for Tim, to listen to him.

She wondered if Cass managed to escape completely. She wondered if her sister all but in name and blood learned how to smile.

——

Tim had never had a friend before!

She listened to him! And gave him hugs the one time he was brave enough to ask! And she seemed to like Batman and Robin as much as he did! No one who didn’t like them would listen to his endless rambling otherwise, right? (Tim was super skinny, like ribs poking out skinny. He looked like a sickly Victorian child and he was kind of cold)

“And then, Robin went like this,” he pantomimed the awesome punch Dick Grayson did on a Joker goon. “And the guys got knocked out just like that!”

His new friend nodded, looking interested.

“Sorry, am I talking too much?” Tim asked anxiously. He didn’t want to make his friend hate him!

She shook her head, and gestured for him to continue.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

His new friend was so cool! She even taught him how to throw a punch and to fight!

——

When she had to leave, she prepared Tim for it.

“Do you have to go?”

She nodded and placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Her other hand held a duffle bag with an assortment of weapons she carefully kept from him. (One of the blades still had guts on it, which, ew.)

“Try not to fall off anymore roofs, little photographer.” She said, smiling at his shocked look before leaping away.

“Wait, you can talk?!” He shouted at her back. She smiled a little wider.

——

“A son, this time.” Ra’s al Ghul’s voice echoed in his disgustingly flashy throne room. It rings of approval.

The reincarnation stood behind her mother, eyes cast downwards.

“Well done, Talia. I finally have a worthy heir.”

Damian al Ghul cooed.

The reincarnation was scared. But… she could not allow her younger brother to be trapped like she was. She’s fifteen now, a decade of slavery having worn her down and nearly broken her. But with her brother… no, she could not allow it.

She met her mother’s eyes and knew then that they agreed. Protect Damian, at all costs.

She ignored the sting of envy. So what her mother could not find it in herself to protect her daughter? So long as she protected Damian, it didn’t matter.

Maybe she didn’t matter. Maybe she wasn’t worth anything. Maybe- maybe- maybe.

She also ignored the seed of disgust she had for mother’s actions in conceiving Damian. She couldn’t do anything about it. Talia was also a victim.

A louder voice in her asked if she could really excuse that, when Talia had a choice and she chose to hurt and violate Bruce Wayne like that. She wondered if she could truly ever forgive Talia. She wondered if Bruce Wayne got therapy.

——

She stared at the tome in front of her, eyes blank. (Actually, she had no eyes. Like? Empty sockets, but then later she had eyes???)

The brand- the shackles- the chains could only be broken if Ra’s died. She wasn’t opposed to that. But if he died, so did she. She couldn’t even kill herself to get out, because the chains would be there even if she died. If she was revived- a high chance, thanks to the fucking pits- then the chains would still be there.

Perhaps… she could use the pits?

Her mind turned and turned.

——

“This is your ukht.” Her mother pointed at her. Damian stared up at her, and she melted. Her brother was too damn cute.

“Ukhti?”

She nodded as her mother smiled in joy. “Yes, habibi.”

She was better at hiding the pain, now. She was better at enduring it, too, that fucking burning feeling. She spoke more, but only to Damian.

It would not do for her brother to grow up not knowing how to receive verbal expressions of affection. Not like she did, in this life.

Still, it hurt to speak. But then, she had an idea, based on Cassandra.

She could not speak, but speaking wasn’t the only way of communication. She’ll teach Damian sign language- standard, as commanded- but also her own version. Yes, she could do it. It wouldn’t be hard.

She was a genius, after all, and creating languages wasn’t as hard as people seem to think.

——

Damian copied her, small fingers patting his hand four times.

She did it back to him. “I love you.” She tells him, with sounds and with motions.

He does it back, excitedly, because he had a secret with ukhti!

——

Sometimes, she dared not to touch Damian. She wants to ruffle his hair and give him hugs but the ichor on her hands reminds her to not get to greedy. She did not deserve it.

Not when her hands were stained with the lives of so many people.

——

Another mission.

She was twenty now, and not much closer to escaping her bonds. Though, once she hit her majority, Ra’s lost interest in her in that way. A blessing, even if she had to seduce his “business partners” into giving him better deals more often now.

She stops by Bludhaven. The Robin she watched so many years ago- six, by her count- had grown new wings and moved. She wanted to see if he could fly still.

He could. He flew as free- no, freer than his days as Robin.

She dipped away to complete her mission (nuclear weapon trading, really?) and swings back to see a spider trying to break the former Robin’s wings.

“No.” Nightwing whispered, staring upwards at the cloudy sky blankly. “Please, stop.”

She didn’t need to hear any more. She saw red, and dove feet first straight onto the spider’s head, knocking her out.

She picked up a near-catatonic Nightwing, and helped him to his apartment. She left Tarantula in the rain and felt zero guilt about it.

He changed mechanically, some kind of instinct keeping him from removing his domino, but it was a bit pointless considering she escorted him to his personal apartment.

She watched as Nightwing slipped into an exhausted sleep before leaving. She had a spider to squish, and traces to hide.

——

Dick wakes up, drained and exhausted. He… someone saved him.

He sees a scrawled note, handwriting impeccable enough to be a font, written with his pen. He picked it up from his table, and his eyes tiredly read the message.

“Don’t worry about Tarantula. Or your identity.”- A friend.

He remembered- the mask- the mask of the stranger that saved him vividly. He’d remember. And he’d thank them if they ever came back.

——

She was in charge of training assassins, these days. A year and a half later after Bludhaven, she was back in Nanda Parbat, and she’s devoured every magical tome she could get her hands on. They all say the same things.

Her assassins were trained well, and Ra’s praises her with more responsibilities as he followed the pit in his obsessions. Her mother began to splinter the group, not knowing that as Ra’s began his descent into madness, people looked towards her instead of Talia for leadership. They did not know that her unwavering presence by Ra’s side wasn’t voluntary but it is their true that she became his right hand out of pure skill. And flawless obedience, of course.

Then, someone new joins.

Someone with pit rage and empty eyes that goes rigid when she approaches.

Then again, most of the operatives freeze up when she walks towards them.

Her memories roar. A child.

He bowed, and her eyes followed the streak of white hair at the forefront of his skull.

She gestured at him to follow, and ignored the pitiful eyes the rest of the assassins gave to the kid- they act like her training was hard when she went easy on them (it was)- and led the kid towards the training rooms.

She knew who he was, even if her grandfather and mother didn’t think she knew.

Her… Bruce Wayne would probably appreciate his son being returned relatively sane.

But first, she had to beat the Pit out of him. Then, she could assign body guarding duties to him, in an attempt to protect him.

——

“Grandfather, I will take Damian’s punishment.”

“A whipping girl, granddaughter?” But he nodded anyways. He made Damian watch.

She kneeled and allowed the punishment. She couldn’t always protect him from Ra’s, but this she could do anytime. It’s not like she was unfamiliar with the torture. (The whip had barbs. Rusty. And they sprinkled salt.)

——

“I liked poetry….” Jason Todd tells her after a training session. “I think.”

“Sure. I’ll call you Grave, then.” Pain. But she was used to it.

He tilted his head, eyes going blank once more. She sighed. There went his memories again. (His eyes were blank and glazed. Like looking at someone you love and knowing they’re looking through you.)

——

“I would not trust her,” she says to the air, next to a Red Hood emerging from Talia al Ghul’s chambers. She could see it, the beginnings of Gotham’s new crime lord. But still, “Talia al Ghul is known for her lies.”

She pushed away from the wall. It was up to Grave if he listened. It was out of her hands now.

——

She’s twenty-five, and she’s helping Damian pack for his first meeting with Bruce Wayne.

“You must not tell him about me.” Because he’d come rushing here, and she had worked too hard to save Damian for her fool of a father to come and ruin all of that effort.

“I promise.” Her little brother said solemnly. Ukhti said it out loud, which meant it was important and she expected him to keep that promise.

The only other time he’d heard her speak was to tell him she loved him.

The reincarnation smiled and told him through their special sign language, to treat the current Robin with respect and to try his best to get the current Robin to pass down his title.

‘Robin is earned. They have different rules, over there. Try your best to learn those rules.’

Her brother was sheltered. She loved him, but he was spoilt and sheltered. Of course she was worried. Talia barely mothered him.

“I know. You do not have to remind me so often, ukhti.”

She smiled, and patted his head.

“Be safe,” she whispered. “I will miss you.”

Damian darted in for a hug. “Of course. Goodbye, sister. See you soon.”

She hoped not. It was hard enough to convince Ra’s that Damian would learn more under Bruce Wayne.

(She was locked in a small closet- like Cass- for about a week, because she brought up the idea first.)

——

She found it.

The answer to pit rage laid in an old, all but crumbling tome from Atlantis- answers “from a ghost.”

——

Bruce Wayne died. Months after Damian came to live with him. That- irritating- she sighed and worked with her mother to turn Ra’s al Ghul’s attention away from Gotham, lest he called Damian back in Bruce Wayne’s absence.

The little photographer caught grandfather’s attention. She stood vigil as he played chess with Ra’s. His interest in Damian wavered. Anticipation blurred in her veins.

She saved his friends. Her assassins. She let them go, telling them to wait for the little photographer’s plan. (Y’all miss girl had fucking bloody handprints on her pants like someone tried to grab it.)

The first few people who had an inking she might not be loyal to Ra’s… and it was them.

When her other assassins attacked Red Robin, she cut them down before they could touch him, helping him with a furious League of Spiders or whatever operative. She hated spiders.

“What…?”

“You’re a lot of trouble, little photographer.” She sighed. His jaw dropped.

“It’s you!”

“Go,” she cut him off. “Blow this place up. I left a surprise for you outside.”

——

“Owens?! Z?!” Tim trembled, exhaustion and shock and wonder hitting him at once.

“Heya, boss!” Z chirped. Owens helped Tim up while Z helped Tam. Pry walked around them, looking out for further threats. “The nightmare trainer let us go. She knew you, I think.”

Tim smiles, all shark teeth and zero hero. (In the background, the song zero to hero from Hercules 2, played in reverse.) “Tell me more.”

——

Damian grunted, bracing himself for the magical creature’s attack.

“Robin!” His father barked out, panicked. Damian hoped he’d survive-

Shhhlk!

He looked up and there stood his ukht. She bounded forwards, using the odd fauna of the magical plane to bolster her movements as she sliced the creatures apart with her swords, magic humming brightly as she cut through them… and the magicians attacking them.

“What- what are you doing here?” He asked. She greeted him, three fingers curled over her shoulder.

‘My question is,’ she signed. ‘Why were you here without a magical weapon.’

Damian sighed as father stepped in between them.

“Who are you.”

“Batman. Cease your excessive worry. I trust her with my life,” Damian snapped. He stepped around a shocked Batman, looked him in the eyes, and unsheathed his katana. He handed it over to his ukht, who took it with amusement.

‘See?’ His eyes seemed to say. Father tensed when his sister unsheathed her own blade and handed it to him.

‘Are you here for a specific reason?’ His sister signed to him.

“Uh, you gonna introduce us, little man?”

Damian sent the Flash a derisive look and ignored him.

“We’re looking for a magician. He set a squadron of demons loose into D.C. last night. He has a tower.” Damian added.

“Robin,” Father growled. “Who is this.” Damian shot him a look and turned back to his sister.

The reincarnation tilted her head. ‘Tower… it’ll have to be that way.’

“Could you take us there?” Damian asked. Truthfully, he could find the way himself. But he wanted more time around his ukht. She nodded and Damian straightened.

“I feel like we should be concerned that Robin’s friend just murdered a bunch of people.”

His sister glanced back and ignored them.

“Silence, incompetents. Speak another word against her, and Batman’s no killing rule will be applied creatively.” He hissed. (The fucking surroundings hissed with him y’all what the fuck)

He turned when his sister ruffled his hair (Superman muttered a super shocked “what the fuck.”) and Damian allowed it. He had missed his sister.

——

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foreingersgod · 2 days

Note

could you do paige w a black gf hcs??

A/N: i wanted to say real quick that i am white and have also not been in a relationship with a black woman before! so please feel free to give me feedback or let me know if i wrote something that was inappropriate! the last thing i want is to make anyone uncomfortable <3

Paige Bueckers x BlackGf!Reader Headcannons

quite literally obsessed with you

will not let you go out alone, always wants to be with you

like i mean everywhere, whether it’s to go your hair done or to go grocery shopping, she’s always asking to go with you

hell, even if you just want to shower, she’s asking to join you

always sends you things that remind her of you

“saw this makeup look on instagram and i think you should try it”

you literally can’t buy anything because she’s always paying for you

“put your card away, that’s my job”

matches your attitude 100%, she’s so sassy with you

“fine, i can pout too, you know”

loves little touches of affection, she loves when you hug her from behind or hold her hand under the table

worships the ground you walk on, everything about you drives her crazy

you’d buy her a promise ring or matching necklaces or something like that and she’d never take it off

she’s a sucker for when you wear her jersey

loves kissing you: lips, cheeks, forehead, thighs, literally every inch of you

always finds you after her games

“can we just go home? i really need you right now”

the most jealous person you’ve ever met, always sneaking kisses and dangerous touches just so that people know who you belong to

she’s also such a good listener

if you’re having a bad day or get in an argument with someone, she’s always there to let you rant

she makes sure you always feel comfortable talking to her about everything

if you ever ask for her to teach you how to play basketball or for her to really talk about anything she likes in general, she goes all out and gets so excited to share it with you

she’s tough on the outside, but with you? she’s the softest, cheesiest person you’ve ever met

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #wcbb #wcbb x reader #black reader #uconn wbb

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beary-rambles · 3 days

Text

Admirer

r.q: Hello! I love your writing! And especially when you wrote the Aegon x f!reader where the reader is shy and it’s all just cute and stuff. could you write something similar with Aegon x f!reader where the reader is again shy but has a huge crush on him? Like she’s a high born lady and secretly writes him letters and leaves stuff in his chamber like for example his favorite wine she saw him drinking, flowers, fruit and other things. Aegon doesn’t know who it is from because the two never talked. But once happens that when she’s putting again some gift into his chamber he catches her. Then some smut if you would be comfortable writing it and eventually he marries her and everything? Because Aegon feels appreciated and loved finally from someone. I want our Aegon to feel some love. Thank you!

w.c: 1.2k

c.w: highborn!f!reader, angsty aegon, kinda corny aegon, proposal ?, no actual smut but heavily implied, DRABBLE !! not proofread

a.n: will prob expand on this in the future bc i love this idea a lot but for now i hope this drabble is good <33

‘you are the most beautiful man I've ever seen i look for you in every room i enter’

‘My affections know no bounds when it comes to you’

‘I hope you shall smile to my prince for your smile is the most glorious sight’

‘you make my heart race and soar’

It had been over a month since the beginning of him receiving gifts each day, each attached with a small love letter to him. He had no clue where these letters and gifts were coming from. when he brought it up to his mother she shook her head and said she had no idea along with questioning some of the handmaidens who also had no idea. it was like a ghost, everyday around the same time late at night he would enter his room and a new gift would be there.

He had thought he was being pranked, that the karma from his past jests was finally catching up to him and he was finally being punished. there was no way someone truly felt this way about him, nobody looked for him in any room, nobody enjoyed seeing him smile. they had to be pranking him and he was very determined to catch you, because you continued to jest with him knowing his favorite wine his favorite desserts for gods sake you had even left him some bandages one time after he had been walking around with a cut on his cheek from an accident.

He was now determined to catch you, to stop this foolish game, to stop himself from thinking it was even real, but he had no clue how to even catch you, you were like the wind and he had no bases to even start from.

He had spent yet another day running around searching for any sorts of signs about this mysterious person and came up empty handed once more. He had been back earlier than usual, when he pushed open the door to his room he stood frozen in shock as the girl in front of him squealed, dropping the plate of cranberry pie on the ground.

He couldn't recognize her, he could tell by her nicer dress however that she had to be from some important family, his eyes fell to the table in which you were standing next to and he noticed a small note. It had been you. the person who was leaving him all these gifts and notes.

“What is your name?” Shaking her head unable to lift her head to look at him, “i am so sorry my prince i-” “Your name?” You give him your name and he rolls it off his tongue easily, testing it out. He quickly closes the door and makes his way swiftly to stand next to you before grabbing you chin and forcing you to look up at him. “Who put you up to this?” A confused look finds its way to the girls face and she shakes her head, “nobody my prince?” the statements ends with a question, unsure of what he even means in the first place.

He takes a second to admire your name, your eyes, every detail of your skin and for a second he hopes its real and that a pretty girl like you truly liked him. “then why have you been leaving me gifts?” he expects you to finally admit it now, that you had simply been toying with him.

You had been helaenas lady in waiting for almost two months now and it had been some of the best times you’ve ever had. The princess is kind, the people are kind enough but what really is a blessing is getting to see Aegon almost everyday. Ever since you first arrived in the keep you had kept your eyes on him, you had thought he was the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. Despite how much you wanted to you couldn't find the courage to go up to him and introduce yourself. Being a member of the great house tyrell you should have this great confidence about you but you never were able to be as outspoken as your siblings so if you really wanted to express yourself you decided you would have to get creative.

You figured out he was always out of his room and the maids weren't in his room during a very specific hour of the day and had just decided it would be easier to now have to face him to give him notes of your affections. but today the prince had come back to his room earlier than he usually did leaving you in this situation. You hadn't figured out what you were gonna say because you had never even really planned on telling him it was you.

“I just rather like you a lot my prince.”

Ever since then he had basically been glued to your side, followed you around everywhere and begged you to join him for meals. It was odd. you had gone from him never speaking to him to him wanting to see you every moment of the day.

One night in particular you had not seen him all day oddly enough and you don't expect to see him, until you’re sitting in front of your mirror preparing for bed when you hear knocking on your door.

You have no clue who could be coming here so late but when you open your door you barely get a look at him before he walks past you and heads straight to your bed laying face down on it.

“My prince?”

He groans and just rubs his further into your pillow. You walk over carefully and place your hand on his lower back. “Is something wrong?”

“missed you.” He hums as you begin to rub up and down his back, “i missed you too my prince.”

“They kept me from you all day.” He pauses for a moment and when he begins to speak his voice is laced with venom. “They want me to marry some bitch from the north.” You pause, your heart breaking into a million pieces as you think about him going off and marrying someone that's not you. “oh…”

He sits up, looking at you with cloudy eyes, you can now smell the wine on him, “I told them no. That i would marry nobody.” you look down at your lap as he moves closer to you, laying his head on your lap. “Nobody if it was not you”

“my prince?” You whisper at him as he presses his cheek against your naked thighs, your night gown having ridden upwards “your father thought it was a wonderful idea. my mother was so mad i thought she was going to smack me in front of them all.” Your breath gets caught in your throat as he grabs your hand and presses it against his cheek. “My prince?” “Call me Aegon my love.”

“what are you saying?” He looks up at you, grabbing you neck and pulling you down so your facing are right next to each other, “marry me.”

“Why?” Mirroring his own question that had been asked not too many moons ago, he looks at you with a wide grin as his eyes drift to your lips, “I guess i just rather like you my love.”

He presses his lips against yours and hums forcefully shoving his tongue in your mouth in a heated kiss. You fall back with him on top of you, his hands sliding to your thighs to push up your night gown to your stomach completely exposing you to him. His fingers lightly rub against your folds “Aegon,,” “Allow me to show you how much i love you.”

#house of the dragon #hotd #aegon the usurper #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon x y/n #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon imagine #aegon targaryen imagine #prince aegon #house targaryen

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emeraldkniight · 1 day

Note

Older bat! Damian with super or wonder reader who's like sheltered and oblivious to the real world and they go on a mission or smith together and the whole times she's just doing whatever he says because that's what she's used to and he's just like damnn and finds that really attractive

— 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ! ☆

older!damian wayne x fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀… drabble smut. porn with a plot. dirty talk. fingering. Damian uses Arabic nicknames.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲… I don't know how I feel about myself today, but I decided to write this for you anyway. I hope you like it. <3

It was one of the first times you, a young girl exiled from the real world and born on an island paradise inhabited only by women, had contact with what was considered 'the real world.' You were not yet accustomed to many things, especially the existence of men, or perhaps men like Damian Wayne.

On Themyscira, you were used to following orders. When the Queen or your trainer told you to "do this," you knew exactly what to do. But when you joined the Justice League and met Batman, you initially believed you were supposed to act the same way. You soon realized that maybe you should have listened when Jon told you to ignore him completely.

At that moment, Damian Wayne, now known as Batman, was the last person you wanted to be trapped with in a situation like this. The two of you were locked in a reinforced room with no way out, where neither your strength nor your wits could help you get out. So you found yourself trapped with the one man who liked to bark orders like he was the king of Gotham.

— You really don't know what to do? — He asked, annoying you again. — Before, Wonder Women were effective.

However, you tried to heed Jon's advice; thus, you responded to him without intending to participate in his game.

— Yes, and in my land, men didn't even exist. So I'm just getting used to working with the inefficiency of one.

Damian slowly approached the box you were sitting in with an annoying grin on his face.

— In fact, I am a detective. Of course I know how to get out of here.

Your confused expression made him smile even harder at your confusion. You weren't sure if it was fair to feel like a complete idiot, but that was exactly how you felt at that moment. Besides, you didn't like him at all.

— And you never thought to open the door, or are you just trying to annoy me by making me live with you?

— Actually... — He replied, moving even closer to you. — I'm testing you. Go and open the door as best you can — He finally ordered.

And as if it were a sacred word, you stood up, determined to open the door to the room at any cost. At first, you tried to break it down with blows, but your strength wasn't enough. It was probably made of some incredibly strong material, possibly of alien origin.

— Try pulling the doorknob with your lasso — he suggested, and once again, you listened.

Damian couldn't help but find the way you obeyed like a trained dog incredibly attractive. Deep down, he felt that he had you at his mercy and that no matter what he asked you to do, you would listen.

Totally exhausted from the effort, you knelt on the ground, but you didn't give up. Feeling sorry for you, he reached over to stroke your hair, trying to calm you down.

— Pretty obedient little thing. — He flattered, lifting your chin so you could look him in the eye. — You don't know how to say no, do you?

A wave of intense heat enveloped you. Perhaps it was the first time you had ever found yourself in an intimate situation with someone, as you had always believed that your body was trained solely for an impending war. Yet, when Damian was around, that was the one purpose of your training you occasionally forgot.

— If I asked you to take off your underwear, would you be so obedient, habibati?

Your cheeks reddened immediately. You knew you should avoid this kind of situation, but having been trained on the island, you understood that you had to follow the orders of a superior. Batman was more experienced than you, making him your superior, and you felt obligated to obey him.

Immediately your panties fell down under the metal skirt of your suit, exposing your pussy to the man in the room.

From what you knew about men, you noticed they often looked for specific qualities in women. However, Damian had never shown any boldness towards you. As time passed, the 'sexual tension' that Jon had mentioned began to feel more like an annoyance.

When he saw that you were listening to him, he smiled as usual. But his smile was not one of despair; it was one of desire.

He knelt down to be at the same height as you. Gently, he slid a finger down your soaked pussy while keeping his eyes on yours, watching for any reaction on your face.

You understood what he was doing and how he was touching every part of the anatomy between your legs with precision. What you didn't understand was how he was so skilled at it.

You couldn't hold back your moans as you felt him gently pinch your now throbbing clit. His touch drove you crazy as you felt waves of pleasure crash against you.

— Damn, what a good girl. Sorry to tell you, Habibati... I have a weakness for obedient women.

#dc comics #dc universe #damian wayne #damian wayne smut #damian wayne x female reader #damian wayne x reader #batboys #smut #batman

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sorrowsofsilence · 1 day

Text

Burning Out • VIII

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 5k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, mentions of suggested abuse, mentions of weapons, kidnapping/restraints.

Authors note: Chapter Eight - The Drain: thanks for waiting so patiently for me to update beautiful humans <3

Tags: @crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken @princessmarshmallowx @laurpartyprogram @cookiesupplier @nojoyontheburn @lacktoesandtoddlerant @veronicaphoenix @er3nslovergirl @cncohshit @thescarlettvvitch @scrumptiousfestivalpost @melcchs @flowery-mess @mentallynot-here @judging-from-afar @darkmxgician @badomensls @hoe-for-daddywise @philomenie @xxkittenkissesxx @venturethroughtheveil

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY IN REAL LIFE! IT IS FICTION! IT IS JUST FOR FUN! <3

+++++

I picked at the grass for a moment, playing nervously with the strands I pulled from the dirt, “she’s gone. I don’t know how to find her.”

My vision blurred as silent tears fell, and my head bowed again.

“I miss you, mom.” I used my sleeve to dry my cheeks, “and you, dad.”

The three of us sat in silence, the trees above the courtyard singing with the autumn air. I spoke to them for a few more minutes. I tried to make it quick, knowing that if I stayed longer I wouldn't be able to leave.

“I hope you get to meet her someday,” I murmured as I stood, dusting off my pants.

“I’d like to hear about this girl.”

My stomach dropped as I whipped around in alarm, my heart thumping rapidly once I met his silver completion.

+++++

U̧̢̼̹͓͇̮͈͕̰͑͗ͭ̂̐̓̾̇̑̀̑̌̅̈͟͢͞Ń̷̙͎͍̘͈̰̫̫̭̼͇̻̱͈̝̇͐̌ͧͥ̅͑̏̈̐̉ͫ͝͡͠K̷̴̷̸͇̤̝̥͓̤̖̣̇̏ͭ̇̇̍ͨ͞_̸̸̨̡͎̭̄NͨO̅͆WͨŅ̷̢̮̣̰͚̝̮ͫ̑̾ͤ͌̉̀ͧͪͅͅ

Soon, I’ll kill my final piece of evidence… and soon, I’ll have control of Fidelio.

+++++

RUFFILO

I paced around the room with my phone in hand, Jolly and Folio’s eyes following me with every step. Juice mewed from Folio’s lap, and I sighed, staring at the screen. Not even a cat could make me feel better right now.

I ran my thumb across the glass to refresh the app once more. No new messages. Clicking the call button for the hundredth time I almost screamed once it rang until voicemail again.

“Noah’s been gone for hours.” I swallowed harshly, “and there’s still no trace of Y/N.”

“Nicky-” Jolly began, standing up from the couch to place a soothing hand on my shoulder, stopping my pacing briefly, “I’m sure Noah’s fine- he’s probably freaking the fuck out looking for Y/N. Maybe even went to the cafe and Sammy’s to fill her bosses in…”

My stomach sunk at his words, and my mind began to race. Something didn’t feel right. I knew Noah, and something felt wrong. He told me he was going to go to the cemetery to clear his mind- and I don’t think he wouldn’t go find Y/N by himself, not after everything that happened. He knew we were stronger in a group.

I shook my head, refreshing my phone for the hundredth time before moaning in frustration, “No. I think he’s in trouble.”

“He’s probably still at the cemetery,” Nick reassured me, standing up with Juice in his arms.

“Can we go look?” I asked, eying both of them as I pressed call, ringing Noah again. No answer.

“He took Y/N’s car so we’d have to walk…” Jolly groaned.

Nick snorted, “Walking is for plebs. Let’s just Uber.”

“Really?” I sighed, giving my brothers a look of relief that they’d come with me.

Jolly laughed, patting my back as we grabbed our shoes, “If it eases your mind seeing him talking to some headstones, then let’s go.”

I threw him a look, glaring, “You know it’s not just any headstone.”

“I know, Nicholas. I know.” Jolly reassured me and I nodded curtly.

We arrived at the cemetery half an hour later, and Y/N’s car was still in the parking lot. A spark of hope filled my mind as we wandered down the overgrown path- however the air felt heavy and still as my throat clenched in anticipation.

The closer we got to Noah’s parents, the more hopeless I felt, as he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“I don’t see him,” I mumbled, walking with haste down the path.

The graves were now in sight and I sucked in a breath, shaking my head. Even though the car was still here, something was wrong.

There was a fresh set of white flowers scattered across the front of the graves, the vase that normally sat between the stones lying on the drying grass.

“He could have just left,” Nick chimed in, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Without the car?” I shrugged him off, pointing at the flowers, “He wouldn’t have laid them out like that. Why is the vase knocked onto the ground?”

Squinting my eyes at something that lay a few feet away from the stone, I felt my chest warm, my head beginning to shake. My limbs halted and I watched Jolly brush past me, his head tilting as he bent down, picking up the black object.

“Is this-” He began, flipping it in his hand, inspecting the singular sneaker.

“Noah’s,” I said, my stomach dropping.

Folio shrugged, “It could be anyone’s.”

I reached for the shoe, pointing to the hole that was beginning to form on the toe, “No this is one hundred percent Noah’s- the hole forming? He’s had this pair of vans for over a year. Plus, they’re a size twelve.” I peeled back the tongue, analyzing the faded tag.

“How would he lose a shoe here?” Folio asked.

“He wouldn’t,” Jolly said, looking around the cemetery, his body turning quickly as he scoped out the trees, “He would have taken it off on purpose.”

I turned around, my mind beginning to spiral. First Y/N, now Noah.

He had to have been taken.

“Do you think he’s leaving a clue?” I whispered, staring at my brothers before glancing at the grass, my feet carrying me further into the cemetery.

“Those twins must’ve taken him,” Folio spit angrily, his fists clenching.

I watched Jolly as he leaned around the headstones, his fingers tracing the rock for any signs Noah may have left, before picking up one of the flowers. He twirled it between the pad of his thumb and index finger, staring at the dishevelled petals.

“There aren’t enough flowers here to be a full bouquet, and some of the petals are ripped…” Jolly’s eyes locked with mine briefly before I scanned the ground and trees, landing on a speck of white in the distance.

I pointed as my feet carried me towards the spec, “There.”

A few petals were dispersed down the path, and as I peered ahead, another sprinkle of white caught my gaze.

“I think he’s left a trail,” I said, my breathing becoming erratic as my eyes widened, fear sinking in.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Nick jogged up to me, pushing my shoulder to send me forward.

The three of us ventured deeper into the graveyard, passing various weathered tombstones, and surveying the ground every few feet for new petals. The further we walked, the more sparse the trail became. Eventually, it stopped altogether.

“Should we keep going?” Jolly asked, pointing to the gate that was open at the back of the cemetery.

Shrugging my shoulders, I kept walking, “We might as well.”

+++++

Y/N

The room lights flickered in a staggered pattern, the yellow tint that created shadows against the wall causing my head to spin. The room was stuffy and damp, an eternal sense of hopelessness radiating from the aura within.

I coughed, my tear-stained eyes squeezing shut as I lay on the motel bed, my limbs tied down. I tugged for the hundredth time, the rope digging into the wound that had formed from the tension.

I’ve been here for what felt like an eternity, but was really only two days.

Two days of complete hell.

The motel door clicked open and I winced in fear but relaxed slightly once I saw it was Kiean. He emerged, holding a bag of fast food.

The aroma made my mouth begin to water, but I swallowed away the hunger, attempting to push away the urge. The sounds that erupted from my stomach gave me away as Kiean locked the door, his head tilting to the side in worry.

“Are you finally going to agree to eat?” He sighed, tossing the key onto the rickety wooden table that was near the wall in front of the bed. I avoided his gaze, my mouth shut, refusing to talk.

The blonde walked over to me, the ice in the soft drink chittering against the paper cup as he placed it on the nightstand. He then opened the brown paper bag, pulling out some fries and some chicken strips.

“I got your usual…” Kiean tried giving me a small smile, but I turned my head. He sighed again, sitting on the edge of the bed. I pulled against the rope to push myself away from his presence, but my leg was stuck touching his back. The contact made my skin burn in fury.

“I even got your favourite sauce.”

Old friends, same disease I'm killing myself again Old friends, same to me I can't get away from it

I sent a glare in his direction as my stomach churned again, rumbling from the delicious, greasy scent. I felt sick from how hungry I was, and my throat felt dry from the lack of water.

Kiean watched me with concern as he unwrapped the straw and placed it into the drink, holding it up to my mouth.

“Drink Y/N, for fucksake.”

The paper brushed against my lips and I squeezed them together, closing my eyes in resentment. He held the cup for almost a minute before I broke, taking the straw into my mouth and sucking up the liquid. I downed the entire thing, gasping for air once I stopped.

“Thank you,” Kiean murmured, opening the box of chicken strips and sauce. I tugged at the rope again before wincing as it dug into the laceration that formed.

Kiean’s brows furrowed as he stared at my wrist, before holding the strip to my mouth for me. No longer able to resist I took a bite and almost moaned at the flavour, swallowing greedily.

“Stop tugging on the rope,” He almost pleaded, “I’m sorry it’s hurting you. Kade would kill me if I took them off.”

Old friends are just a memory That I didn't need

His green eyes bore into me with unease, “You know how he is.” Yeah, I do.

We sat in an uncomfortable silence for a while as he fed me. I was grateful for the food nonetheless, despite them kidnapping me and tying me to a bed frame. I don’t think I could have made it much longer without eating.

One question frequented my mind, and as much as I didn’t want to talk, I knew that deep down I was safer with Kiean than his brother; and I was afraid that at any moment, he would step through the door.

“Where is Kade?”

Kiean’s head snapped toward me in shock, surprised that I finally spoke.

“Oh- he’s out right now,” Kiean shrugged, turning his gaze to the floor, “I think he’s looking for your boyfriend.”

My heart clenched in worry, mind wandering to Noah and the boys. Were they okay after the crash? Were they hurt?

Were they looking for me?

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I mumbled, staring at the blonde. He turned to face me, eyes analyzing my expression. His pupils dilated in knowing, his stillness a telltale sign he knew something was up.

Kiean was always able to read through me.

“But you have feelings for him,” He said as we watched each other, the gaze between us speaking for me.

I tried my best to remain stiff, but I nodded, tears beginning to well in my eyes.

“I know why you left Y/N,” Kiean looked away, looking at his hands that were folded in his lap, playing with his fingers, “and I don’t blame you for leaving.”

“I couldn’t handle it anymore. So many people were hurt. So many people dead.” I whispered, my voice wavering. I blinked in an attempt to hide my tears, but that only made them fall down the skin of my cheeks.

Kiean picked at his nails, “I’m not gonna lie, you fucked us over.”

My mouth formed a straight line as I stared at the patterned bedsheets.

“The whole syndicate fell once you left. Matt followed. Then Orie, then Bryan. Our organization collapsed after you disappeared…and the Rule Maker took over. You know how much that would have pissed Kade off.”

My body stiffened at the mention of the Rule Maker. He was the biggest crime syndicate in North America other than us; always trying to take Fidelio down.

“Once business shifted and we tried building up again- but since we lost the crew it was almost impossible. We became petty dealers for a bit, but no one wanted to deal with Kade anymore. So, we’ve been working under the Rule Maker as the foxes.” Kiean sighed.

“And he’s blamed me for everything,” I laughed bitterly.

Kiean nodded, “I mean, our business fell apart once you left Y/N. We have nothing now.”

“So you blame me too?” I asked, glaring at him. Kiean didn’t say anything.

“It’s not my fault I didn’t want to be part of that shitty lifestyle anymore. I was tired of being used, and I was tired of being part of a problem,” my voice began to rise, “So many people got hurt, and I did some heinous things. I needed out, especially after everything with Kade happened.”

“Kade has issues, I know… but he loves you Y/N-”

“Oh fuck off!” I yelled, my body pulling against the restraints in frustration, “Don’t you dare say he loves me.”

My chest heaved as venomous words left my tongue, “What he did to me was not love. I wish he was dead.”

“Look-” Kiean placed a hand on my own, which caused me to flinch. I tried pulling away, but couldn’t due to the ropes grasp, “I know you’re angry. You hate him, and you hate me, but we need your help.”

“Why would I ever help you,” my teeth clenched in animosity.

Kiean watched me carefully, “You put that mask back on for your friend.”

I avoided his gaze once again.

“You knew we’d be able to find you, and you knew Kade would come in a heartbeat…So why did you risk everything you ran from, for him? If you were so done with this life, why are you willing to return for this guy?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered, “He needed help.”

“Y/N,” Kiean’s green irises begged, “If you’re willing to help someone you just met, can’t you help us? Help me?”

Kiean knew he was my weakness. He had always been there to save me from Kade’s hands. He protected me and kept me safe, despite how awful life was back in Canada. He was my best friend. He was my brother.

“We’re going to take down the Rule Maker,” He said firmly, standing up from the bed now.

“Excuse me?” I scoffed, a laugh almost escaping my lips from disbelief, “What?”

Kiean turned to the closer in the motel room, pulling out three fox head masks. Kiean’s, Kade’s, and…

“Yours,” Kiean said, holding up one of the masks. The silver paint glinted slightly from the flickering yellow motel light.

“We need your help, just this one last time. I promise we’ll leave your life for good if you help us.”

I stared at the mask, almost rolling my eyes, “And if I say no?”

The motel door opened, and I sucked in an anxious breath. Kade slammed the door, his expression furious as his sweat-stained hair hung over his forehead. My limbs warmed nervously as my lungs collapsed, air unable to escape.

I can't be saved Reaching for the life we threw away

Had he been listening this whole time?

“Then I’ll kill you, and your little fuck toy,” Kade seethed, lifeless orbs glaring in my direction.

Watching as it circles in the drain With everything I loved, that's gone to waste With everything I was but couldn't change

+++++

NOAH

It was the fear of the unknown that amplified the sense of vulnerability and helplessness I felt. Being at the mercy of someone else and unable to anticipate their next move, left me terrified and completely hopeless.

The blindfold that covered my vision left me anxious as my body thrashed back and forth from the restraints that tied my arms back, the metal cold against my skin. As I attempted to wiggle free the chains that held me swung against the chair, clanging in my ears. The wind whistled around the building I must’ve been in, causing me to shiver.

I screamed angrily, swinging aimlessly before the chair toppled over and I landed on the cement ground with a thud, the side of my head smacking into the pavement.

I didn’t necessarily believe in a God- but I prayed.

I prayed that Y/N was okay and that she knew I was sorry for everything.

I prayed that whatever happened to me, my brothers knew I loved them. That they knew how sorry I was that our lives were ruined because of me.

I prayed that they would be able to find the trail I left behind.

Old friends, same disease I can't get away from it Old friends, same as enemies

“There’s no way you pulled that pharmacy heist off by yourself,” Anger seeped through every word, every syllable.

“Who is she?”

I laughed, my body aching against the ground as I continued wrestling the chains, “You underestimating me?”

The man growled, pushing my face into the cement forcefully, causing me to laugh in resentment. Even through the blindfold, I could tell a snarle was embedded on his face.

“I stole your fucking car at fourteen. I can do anything I need to myself.”

“You sure about that?” I felt my body swing back up from the ground, two sets of hands sitting me upright in the chair.

“Who was wearing the Volto mask?”

I'm killing myself again I'm killing myself again I'm killing myself

“Fuck that I know,” I jeered, “What’s with the theatrics of all this?”

With my question ignored, I felt something cold and sharp press against my arm, “How do you know Y/N Y/L/N?”

I tried to not let my sarcastic smile fade at the mention of her name, “Who?”

“I’m not stupid boy,” The man yelled, a stinging warmth bolting up my arm, causing me to scream.

“Fuck!” I hollered, attempting to pull away, but I couldn’t move, nor see. Hands held my shoulders in place.

“I did some digging. You didn’t just break into her house, No,” he laughed, “No, you’ve been living there.”

I can't be saved Reaching for the life we threw away Watching as it circles in the drain

Why was he asking about the mask and Y/N?

My mind wandered back to Vincent, recalling our conversation days prior.

“Heads, you tell me about your little friend Y/N.”

My gaze narrowed and my fists clenched at the mention of her name. What did he want with Y/N?

“Tails, you tell me about your masked friend.”

Vincent said his boss wanted to know.

“So tell me,” I felt the blade dance across my skin, threatening, “Is she my missing mask?”

With everything I loved, that's gone to waste With everything I was but couldn't change

+++++

RUFFILO

“So, who do you think Y/N is?” Folio asked as we walked down the street. We finally found another set of crumpled petals on the sidewalk past the cemetery, and have been following the road ever since.

“What does that mean?” My brows furrowed in his direction.

“Well,” He jeered, “The fact that two masked men chased us down, stole Y/N and now Noah, AND she is some badass hacking-heist guru? Doesn’t seem like some ordinary 9-5 barista if you ask me.”

I shrugged, “Well I don’t know. The only thing she ever mentioned to me was that she was running from who she used to be and that she was afraid we’d judge her.”

“She took us in without a thought,” Jolly piped in, “Maybe she had a similar lifestyle. No one would just take in a group of criminals.” He then stopped walking, reaching into his pocket.

Jolly stared at his screen confused, “Vincent?”

Putting the phone against his ear he watched us, a confused look glazing over his features. I stood closer to him, trying to listen in on the conversation. Jolly rolled his eyes, pushing me gently.

“Fuck you calling me for? I don’t have shit bro.”

“Yo, you know where Noah is? Did this asshole flake?”

“Why?” Jolly asked, “You were supposed to meet him?”

“Yea, he had more shit for me- didn’t show up at the ally. Thought that maybe I scared him off since the last time we talked.”

“Well, he didn’t show up because he’s fucking missing.”

“Missing? The hell you mean missing.”

“Missing as in we have no idea where the fuck he is, and we think he was kidnapped; so your deal’s gonna have to wait.”

“Wait- I think I know who may have taken him.”

Immediately I stepped back to share a look with Jolly and Nick. Did Vincent know the twins?

“Shit I gotta go. Meet me at the pier in 20.”

I heard the phone beep and Jolly stared at the screen in confusion, “Folio?”

Nick hummed, “What?”

“Did Noah ever use his first name when dealing with Vincent?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, shaking his head, “Pretty sure I told him to just go by Sebastian.”

Jolly shoved his phone back into his pocket, pushing past us and walking quickly down the street, “Seems to me Vincent may be more involved in this.”

We practically had to run to make it to the pier in twenty minutes since the cemetery was so far away, and travelling by foot was not ideal. It was windy and cold, the water droplets being swept up by the gusts of air slapping me in the face, causing me to shiver.

A man leaned against the pier, his arms resting over the wooden railing as he stared off into the water. He turned to face us, sharing a small smile as he stood up straight.

“Jolly? Folio?” He acknowledged them, and Jolly whistled in response.

“Strange seeing you unmasked.”

“Well, I’m not going to wear it where everyone can see us,” He threw his hood over his head, shielding himself from the wind.

“So what do you mean you think you know who took Noah?” I asked.

He looked at me, thick brows sitting heavily above his eyes, “Who are you?”

“Nicholas. Ruffilo.”

“Ah,” Vincent mumbled, “The one that convinced Jolly to stop selling to me in the first place all those years ago.”

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Jolly placed a supportive hand on my shoulder.

“It was a mutual agreement, Vince. You know why we stopped, we got a new boss.”

“Yeah, whatever,” He huffed, leaning against the railing once again, “Well speaking of bosses, I think mine took him.”

“Is your boss a set of twins that wear these stupid fox masks?” Nick asked.

Vincent laughed, raising a brow, “Uh, no. But that’s interesting.”

Jolly, Nick and I looked at each other. So who took him if it wasn’t the twins?

“Who is your boss?” I asked.

With a shrug, Vincent turned to look out at the water again, “I dunno. I’ve never met him before, and we only communicate through his little henchmen. We call him the Rule Maker.”

“The Rule Maker?” Jolly laughed for a moment, before his smile faded, “Wait you mean to tell me, THE Rule Maker?”

“Who is that?” I asked, feeling out of the loop.

Folio ran his hands through his hair, “Only like the biggest drug lord in North America.”

“Well, why would he kidnap Noah? We haven’t done much related to drugs in years, other than the past month”

Vincent shrugged, “I got asked a shit ton of questions the other day by one of his minions. He wanted to know about the person who did the heist with him, since the mask they were wearing belonged to the missing member of Fidelio.”

I glanced at Folio and Jolly briefly, catching their eyes.

“Fidelio- that was a drug syndicate in Canada, right?” Jolly asked.

Vincent nodded, “Yep. Guess that was the first time that mask was seen in months. Then my boss went on asking about some chick named Y/N Y/L/N.”

Now my eyes widened and I physically turned to my brothers, both matching my expression.

“Ah- so you do know her,” Vincent began.

“I mean-” Nick scratched his neck.

“Well, my boss knows her. He has been looking for her for years,” Vincent sighed, “So, Sebastian knows Y/N, and has a connection to the Volto mask. Yada yada, the boss wants answers that I couldn’t get out of Noah the other day. So he probably took him.”

I ran a hand over my face, groaning audibly. This is bad.

Jolly stared at me concerned, “Y/N is the missing member of Fidelio. The timeline would add up.”

Fuck.

“Interesting,” Vincent chimed in, “So it’s the same person. That girl is the mask.”

“Well, did your boss say how he knows her?” Nick questioned.

The dealer shook his head, “Nope. And I don’t know where Sebastian would be either- but I think that’s who took him.”

“Why are you helping us?” I said warily.

Vincent smiled, his grillz shining against the setting sun, “Well, he provided good business. I got paid well.”

“I don’t know how we are supposed to find him though,” Nick said, “We were following a trail of flowers for a bit.”

Wait… following…

“Oh my god,” I smacked my forehead in annoyance, “Our trackers!” I lifted my pant leg, showing it off to the boys.

I wasn’t sure how we didn’t realize it sooner, but Noah still had his tracker attached to his ankle. At least, I hoped.

“How are we supposed to track it? It was Y/N who had the system,” Jolly said.

“Noah’s number might still be on her laptop. It’s worth a shot.”

+++++

Y/N

“Where is your laptop?” Kade asked, sitting across the room. His back sunk into the chair as he glared at me.

“Why would I tell you?” I spat.

He snickered, running his fingers through his blonde locks, “Do you have a fucking death wish?”

I snarled at him, “It’s not my fault you didn’t lock down your system well enough. Figure it out yourself.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly expect you to stab me in the back and wipe everything from us.” He shared a pathetic, cold smile.

“Y/N,” Kiean pleaded, and I rolled my head to look at him. He sat on the other bed, eyes begging, “Just cooperate. Like I said, if you help we will leave your life forever.”

“How am I supposed to know that’ll happen?” I mocked, “You chased me and my friends, almost killed us in a car crash with guns, and fucking kidnapped me?”

The room was silent for a moment before Kade spoke up.

“I just want my fucking business back.” He growled, “So like I said, help me, or he is dead.”

I swallowed harshly, knowing that Kade’s threats were never empty. He always followed through with them, and I know he most certainly would kill him.

I didn’t want to help them… but I didn’t want to risk Noah’s life.

“It’s at my place,” I sighed.

Kade stood up, clapping his hands together, which caused me to close my eyes and flinch, “Then let’s go.”

We pulled up to my house in a car the Twins rented. I picked at the bandages that Kiean had wrapped around my wrists to prevent the wounds from getting infected, wincing.

As we sat outside the front my stomach churned, worried the boys would be there. As much as I wanted them to be, so they could get me out of this situation; I knew if they were, that they’d be in danger.

“Are your boyfriend’s minions home?” Kade spat, turning off the engine.

“How am I supposed to know, I’ve been held hostage.” I sneered.

Kiean shot me a look and I rolled my eyes before the three of us headed to the door.

Kade had taken my key and unlocked the house, stepping inside quietly. The twins listened for movement and I looked around, the boys’ shoes missing.

“I don’t think they’re home,” I said. The twins nodded to each other, following me up the stairs to my room. Juice mewed behind, following us.

Once we entered I went to my desk, pulling the laptop off the charger. I handed it to Kiean who opened it, prompting me to type in my password.

“So now what?” I asked just before the front door opened.

The twins glanced at each other, holding a finger to their lips and my breath quickened, listening to the voices of the boys. They were here.

“So where is her laptop?”

“Probably upstairs. C’mon.”

Was Noah here too?

The shuffle of various sets of footsteps ran up the stairs and as soon as Folio turned the corner he let out a surprised yelp when our eyes met briefly.

“Y/N!” He screamed, taking a step forward before Kade cocked his pistol, holding it straight ahead.

“What the fuck-” I heard Ruffilo and saw him peer behind the corner, his eyes widening once he saw me.

“Move, or I’ll shoot,” Kade threatened, gripping my wrist and I winced. I saw Folio and Ruffilo raise their hands in surrender and Kade pulled me out of the room, past the boys. However as we exited the room and I saw Jolly, I then made eye contact with someone I didn’t know- and there was no Noah to be seen.

I pulled against Kade as he tried prying me down the stairs, gun still pointed towards the boys.

“Wait-” I begged, causing Kade to stop, “Where’s Noah?”

As I stared up at Ruffilo from the stairs his gaze made my heart sink.

“He was kidnapped,” Ruffilo muttered.

“C’mon,” Kade spoke through gritted teeth, giving zero fucks about Noah. We reached the bottom of the stairs and Kiean pushed me softly toward the door.

“What?” I yelled back, complete worry taking over me, “By who?”

“The Rule Maker,” Jolly hollered back, and the twins stopped at the door, sharing a look.

I can't be saved Reaching for the life we threw away Watching as it circles in the drain With everything I loved, that's gone to waste With everything I was but couldn't change

+++++

Chapter 9 coming soon

#burning out fanfic #sorrows of silence #bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian davis #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens smut

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ponderingmoonlight · 16 hours

Text

Chapter 3: Entangled Ambitions - A Pact Sealed in Royal Halls

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: reader's death, language

Genre: Isekai, Romance, Fantasy

Synopsis: Your life takes a tragic turn as you perish in a car crash, only to awaken in a whimsical world of fantasy with none other than Jujustu Kaisen characters as its main protagonists. But as if that wasn't enough, you're about to marry the prince version of Gojo Satoru. How will you navigate through this world of history and fantasy? Does your life take the same sudden twist of fate as that of your favorite characters?

<- Previous Chapter l Next Chapter ->

Satoru’s heart stops beating for a moment, eyes widen at the harsh words you just spit at him. How would someone like you know about his powers? He was always keen to hide them, never used his abilities in the presence of someone apart from Suguru and his family. He doesn’t even know you that well. You, the daughter of Naobito Zenin. How on earth did you find out?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You clear your throat, nerves threatening to fail you. This is the only chance you have left. If Gojo Satoru doesn’t rethink his decision…No, there is no way you’ll die again.

“I am talking about your ability to manipulate the area around you freely, the fact that you can distort space. You are also able to create barriers and voids that nullify any incoming attacks, which makes you almost invincible in battle and is responsible for your great reputation as a fighter. But if your followers get to know about the real reason behind your skills…You know how great the fear of people with special powers is in this country, that all of them get executed. Not even Your Majesty will be spared from this.”

You are walking on thin ice. He is the prince, after all. So much higher in his rank that it would be easy for him to get you executed due to false accusations. But this might be the only card you have left, your last spark of hope. If Gojo Satoru won’t marry you, your father will let you get killed. And apart from that, this might be the only chance you’ll get to meet your favourite characters. What about Geto and Nanami? If Naoya and Gojo exist, they are definitely somewhere in this world as well. You are literally living the dream of every anmie and manga fan.

Well, except for the stinging fact that you call Naobito your father and Naoya your stinky brother.

“That are some heavy accusations you’re throwing at me, Lady (y/n). You know as well as I do that I could get you executed right on the sport for your unwise words despite the fact that you are a daughter of the Zenin family”, he replies.

The way he crosses his legs while smiling down at you arrogantly makes the urge to fall onto your knees and beg him for forgiveness grow louder and louder. But no, this is exactly what he wants. At the moment, all Prince Satoru does is playing and testing you. You can’t allow yourself to be messed with. After all, he has absolutely zero clue about what he is in your old world, that you actually died and reincarnated here. He definitely does know that your life depends on his mercy, though. And that your proposal benefits both of you.

“Why did you decide on marrying me in the first place? Was it because you fell in love with my portrait or rather because your family forced you to choose a wife and you thought I wouldn’t cause trouble because I’m a Zenin, because you considered I would urge to get away from my possessing family as soon as possible?”

Threatening him any further has no use. After all, Gojo is aware of the fact that you know about his hidden talent. Instead, you should focus on things you can actually prove, things that are obvious.

“You are a very loudmouthed young lady. I expected you to be more sublime. As a member of the famous Zenin family, you sure got taught etiquette and obedience from a young age, didn’t you?”

He can’t help himself. Just one look into your glimmering lavender eyes makes him provocative you even further. Of course, every little thing you said is true. Yes, your words are a serious threat on his way to the throne. Yes, his family does in fact urge him every single day to decide on a wife. Your proposal is the best solution for both of you, allows him to carry on with his unbothered life without the responsibility to satisfy his finance’s needs. But still…

“I couldn’t care less about my ancestry, Prince Satoru. All I care about is my own freedom”, you clarify, determination dripping from each and every pore of your face.

“And if you don’t decide on helping me, I have to find another gentleman who suits my requirements better.”

“Another gentleman? You are aware of the fact that I’m the prince, right?”

Out of all the arguments you brought up in this conversation, this one is the one that bugs him the most. Out of some strange reason, the sheer thought of you getting promised to another man doesn’t sit right with Satoru.

“As a prince, you are far above my status anyway. If it weren’t for politics and the reliability when it comes to the advanced weapon technology of my family, I wouldn’t even be considered as your fiancé”, you argue in all seriousness.

“What if I don’t allow you to marry another man?”

“Then I will find my ways to do so.”

“Fine, I will propose to you at the ball this weekend.”

Wait…what? After all the arguments, the discussions and the stinging fact that he stares at you with narrowed eyes, he actually agreed on it? Just when you’re about to thank him and leave, he gets up and opens his full mouth.

“But I want to re-arrange the conditions to suit my needs as well.”

Your pounding heart almost stops inside of your chest. For a moment, you just sit there and stare at him plainly like an idiot. Gojo Satoru, having conditions? This definitely doesn’t sound appealing at all. But do you really have another chance? It might be true that you are able to find another gentleman, the anger of your father will carry on, though. And who knows if he wouldn’t kill you even if you marry another wealthy man. No, this engagement is your best and eventually only option.

“What conditions are we talking about, precisely?”

“Once a week, I am allowed to present you as my fiancée in a way I will decide on my own. As the prince and future ruler of this country, I need to reflect a strong relationship with my future queen to the outside. It has to be credible. Everyone must think that we are deeply in love with each other, Lady (y/n).”

Shivers run down your spine before you’re able to stop them. Just one look into his blue thirsty eyes…This man won’t touch you even in your sleep. Doesn’t he have multiple young women just waiting for a chance to hit on him? Playing his wife for an additional day of the week. How wasteful, considering that you’ll never be more than his fiancée, that this engagement will get cancelled the minute it doesn’t benefit both of you anymore.

“I will fulfil my role over the span our engagement last and accept your addition, Prince Satoru.”

“Great! Now that this is out of the way, let me tell you one last thing.”

Before you’re even able to react any further, he grabs your arm and pulls you close. For a moment, you forget how to breathe, your nose tingling by the exquisite scent that radiates from him. You actually never wondered about the way he smells. But now that he is so close you would be able to touch him, so close that you can feel his breath brushing over the bare skin of your face, heat begins to crawl up your spine. Suddenly you feel like fainting, the immense presence of him standing this closely to you simply taking your breath away.

“If you decide on betraying me by telling anyone about my secret, I will execute you. There are no real feelings between us, I won’t even bat an eyelash.”

“First, make sure you keep your end of the bargain, Prince”, you bite back out of instinct, holding his gaze without any mercy.

Does he really think you’re scared of him? He might be Gojo Satoru, the honoured one, the strongest, the prince of this country. You might have been surprised by the way he grabbed you out of thin air. You are still (y/n), still you.

Instead of backing up, you take another step towards him and grab the collar of his elegant jacket. But you know all of his dirty little secrets, parts of his past and future. You are definitely no one to be messed with as well.

“And make sure you don’t disappoint me.”

You let go of him as sudden as you grabbed him, creating a safe distance between both of you by crossing the room and coming to a stand in front of the exit.

“Send me an invitation to the ball along with a pricy bouquet of lavender flowers. It was an honour to visit you, Your Majesty. I am looking forward to our next meeting.”

One last polite curtsy, one last elegant smile. But just when you’re about to call the waiter in order to open the door for you, it swings open by itself.

And your cheek clashes into something particularly hard.

“Oh no, I am beyond sorry My Lady! I wasn’t aware of your presence!”

That voice…You get greeted by a pair of the manliest hands you’ve ever seen, hands gliding up his definitely toned arms. He lifts you off the ground as fast as you stumbled onto his, arms holding you into place tightly.

“You must be Lady (y/n), what a pleasure to finally meet you. I am Sir Geto Suguru, the steward of Your Majesty.”

“S-Suguru?”

Your widen eyes focus on his face in an instant, heart almost beating out of your chest. All those times you admired his drawing, the way he acted so elegantly. The countless fanfictions you’ve read with this exact first meeting.

Only to end up with him in bed later on.

“That is my name”, the man in front of you replies along with a small laughter.

That smile. That oh so charismatic smile. And that manly smell, a mix of mint and leather. You force yourself to gift him with a smile and create a safe distance between both of you. So this is him, the best friend of Gojo Satoru. Even in this world, you can tell how close they are to each other.

Will it stay like this, though?

“I’m sorry, I must have hit my head a little too heart”, you comment, finally ripping your eyes away from his brown ones.

“Do you know each other?”, the firm voice of Prince Satoru interrupts.

A look into his face tells you that he isn’t amused by this sudden meeting at all.

“I’ve never seen Lady (y/n) apart from the portrait that was sent to you, Prince Satoru. But may I say, you look even more mesmerising in person.”

“Weren’t you about to leave when Sir Geto arrived, Lady (y/n)?”

Gojo smiles at you without his eyes, a cold glare decorating his face that is definitely supposed to intimidate you.

But instead of backing up, you take a risky step towards Geto Suguru and bow oh so sweetly.

“Oh Sir Geto, I don’t deserve your kind words. After all, it is you who is a feast for my eyes. No excuse me gentlemen, I still have lessons to attend. I hope we’ll meet each other again this weekend, Sir Geto. Have a nice week, Prince Satoru.”

Without gifting him another single look, you turn on your heel and walk out the door.

You did it. You convinced him to propose to you. But…is this really what you want? Is Gojo Satoru really what you want? Just the way he stared at you with arrogance dripping from each and every poor. Urgh, you fucking hate him. There’s no way to deny that he’s driving you over the edge. Why on earth does it have to be him? Why not Geto, what about Nanami?

Why does it have to be Gojo Satoru?

“She seems like a really nice young lady”, Suguru comments visibly amused while sitting in your former place.

“What your tongue, Suguru. She will me my fiancé after this week is over.”

Tags: @m0k0k0 @lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @risuola @fire-loving-siren

@sunshine7queen @gatitam @kentocalls @hellkaiserinphoenix @skylarlyn823

@livmarauder @nothisispatrick300 @haileycannotcometothephonern @xstom @byakuya61085

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gabessquishytum · 3 days

Note

Young catboy Dream gets kicked from home by his breeder because he is infertile. The breeder didn't sell him when he was a kitten specifically because of his appearance - with the right match, he could have given a few fantastically beautiful (and expensive!) litters - but now that it turns out he can't be bred, there's no reason to keep him. Dream is both hurt and relieved. The truth is, he's never wanted to be a brood mare cat. Participating in the shows, mating with someone only because they've good breed characteristics and then parting to never see each other again... It always sounded terrible to Dream. So, the good thing is he's free to go and do whatever he wants now. The bad thing is he's constantly cold and hungry. Surviving on the streets is no joke: it often rains, finding a proper shelter and not being kicked out there by a stronger stray or a human is a real challenge, and food…food is another issue in itself. There's rarely something edible in trash cans to begin with, and even getting past other catpeople is difficult. Dream tries to fight, but he's not exactly the strongest cat out there and frequently gets beaten. Several well-established strays offer him food and protection if he becomes their plaything, but Dream refuses despite his empty belly. If he still has something left, that's his pride, and he won't present to someone for a can of tuna, thank you very much. One night, he wanders into the borough where he hasn't been for a while and sees a new pub. It looks like an establishment that most likely has hot dishes on the menu, and if it's really that new, maybe no catperson has claimed its trash cans yet! Full of hope (and daring to dream of fish-and-chips leftovers), Dream rushes to the back door only to run into a human. Hob Gadling - the pub owner who also happens to live in the apartment above - simply went for a smoke after closing the shift. He likes the sounds of the city at night, and having a breather once everyone is gone has already become his little tradition. Which gets interrupted by a mass of wet fur and sharp bones that collides with him and falls to the ground with a piteous mewling. Dream knows that humans are no good, and he should get back on his feet and run away, but he's so, so exhausted and hungry he can't hold back tears anymore. Hob panics. First, what if the poor thing has broken something? Second, this catboy has the most beautiful eyes Hob's ever seen. Okay, he is just the most beautiful thing Hob's ever laid his eyes on. You know what? There are many reasons to panic when you fall in love at first sight and your love is crying in a puddle. Hob helps the catboy to stand and offers him to come in. Being outdoors after unplanned puddle bathing won't do him any good, cat or not. Hob can run him a hot bath. And make something to eat. He knows he's babbling, but he just can't shut up and gather his faculties with how beautiful this catboy is and how his heart breaks for his condition. Meanwhile, Dream just decides to go with it. He's too tired. If this human wants to take him somewhere warm and...do things to him, Dream won't fight. If he behaves, maybe this human - Hob, he says his name is Hob - will even allow Dream to stay the night and have something to eat. Dream agrees to come with him.

Oh I am deeply invested in stray catperson Dream!!!!!!

Hob takes him upstairs in the warm, cozy pub, and as soon as they get into the flat he gets busy fussing over Dream. Wrapping him in a big towel, sitting him down on the sofa, still babbling about how he's so sorry and that Dream will be safe, here. Dream has a rather vacant expression on his face until Hob presents him with a cup of hot milk, which he guzzles down so quickly he doesn't even have time to burn his tongue.

Dream does have clothes (his previous owner was kind enough not to strip him naked before dumping him) but they're torn up and now soaking and muddy too. Hob comes from his bedroom with an armful of hoodies, sweatshirts, pyjamas and jogging bottoms for Dream to choose from. He can't have his poor little love shivering in those rags for a moment longer.

Dream takes the fact that the man is dressing him, rather than undressing him, as basically a good sign.

There are many other wonderful things that evening. More warm milk. A bath. Beans on toast. A big cozy blanket tucked around Dream’s shoulders, and firm gentle hands brushing out his damp fur. Inevitably he falls asleep on the sofa, having just shyly rolled over and allowed Hob to rub his belly.

Hob falls even more deeply in love. His heart aches as he gently carries Dream off to bed and tucks him in. He is so in love with this beautiful, scared catboy already. But what if Dream decides to leave? Surely he wouldn't be crazy enough to stay with a complete stranger for longer than a night...?

In fact, Dream has made a decision: he's going nowhere, not until Hob picks him up by the scruff and throws him out. Even then he'll stay skulking around the bins behind the inn. There's no way he's leaving this place that has the warmsafehome smell. No way he's leaving Hob, who bathed him so carefully without once touching him inappropriately. Who cuddled him in the night when he had a bad dream and needed comfort.

These days you'll catch Dream tucking in to fish and chips at his favourite table in the inn. Tail swishing happily, he'll smile across at Hob as he works behind the bar. Very much the cat who got the cream. Maybe Hob will pass by and kiss his forehead while stealing a chip. It's the domestic fantasy Dream never imagined he could have.

And stray catpeople are always welcome at the New Inn. As long as they don't flirt with the owner. He's very much Dream’s territory.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw hybrids #cw homelessness #cw breeding #catboys

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writingquestionsanswered · 13 hours

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i’m autistic so when i’m doing Anything i am almost always specifically Avoiding noticing my surroundings, anything going on at all, so when it comes to descriptive writing i’m slowly realising i actually don’t know What to write. i can get a little bit in about physical body things like emotions or pain etc but i don’t reeaally know how to describe an environment or room or anything but i’m not really wanting to start looking for that in real life because it would overwhelm me so i’m not sure how to like. learn it, i guess?

Describing Environments as Autistic Writer

Describing environments can be tricky for any writer, but there's a great method you can use that will help make it easier. For any environment you need to describe, go looking on Google Image Search, Pinterest, Pexels, Shutterstock... wherever... for inspiration photos that represent that environment.

For example, let's say I need to describe a high school gymnasium. Google Image Search gives me lots of great pictures:

I can go through and find ones that match what I'm envisioning. Or, if I have nothing in mind, whichever one stands out as being a good fit. You can bookmark the image, save it, screen cap it, or print it out. Or, you might just keep the image open for reference while you describe the environment in your story.

Some people find it helpful to create "mood boards" or "aesthetics" with lots of different pictures that represent one location. Then, any time they need to describe that environment, they can look back to the collage image for reference.

Depending on whether you're a "planner" or a "pantser," you may want to gather all your inspiration photos in advance, or you may want to just wait until you come to an environment you need to describe and search for the inspiration images then.

Either way, once you have a photograph to guide you, it's much easier to figure out how to describe what the environment looks like. You can talk about things like layout, architectural structure/elements, size, shapes, color and texture, and decoration. You may also wish to include other sensory details, such as sound, smell, and feel... such as the echo inside a gym, the smell of rubber mats, and warmth from a lot of people crowded together to watch an event.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

#wqaadvice

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greetings-humans · 3 days

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ice adolescence and russia

1 - Russia in today's world

okay look. I see you when you talk about how the political climate today means that iceado was doomed. I see you when you talk about the many many many doping scandals of Russian athletes, we saw it when the athletes didn't compete under the banner of Russia but as OAR or ROC, which I absolutely support. I see you when you rightfully mention Russia invading Ukraine. This is genuinely horrible, it's horrifying, it's inhuman, and the fact that many Russian athletes (including figure skaters) openly, unapologetically support their government's actions is disgusting.

2 - yuri on ice was just meant to be fun

now, let's also recognize that the core of yuri on ice to be silly and queer and accepting, to talk about anxiety and depression, about burnout and competition, about rediscovering your passion for your work and falling in love along the way. I see this, and these are some the reasons why I adore yuri on ice.

3 - yoi and russia

I would love to say that yoi is about escapism so we should ignore all real life events. But I'm not really that type of person, tbh.

We could all close our eyes and ignore thousands of people dying, ignore the doping scandals, ignore every bad thing Russia had done in modern history. But what about the people directly affected by this? do they deserve to see us comfortably having fun about a figure skating show ignoring the doping, and showing our main characters living and training in Russia, comfortably? with no mention of the inhumane actions of Russia, be they about the war or queer rights? really? is that something they deserve to see?

I see the people saying that maybe we can ignore the war, the way we ignored homophobia and eating disorders and bribing, but for the reasons above I really think we shouldn't.

I wish Russia had not done any of this, most of all because of all the deaths and destruction, but yes also bacause maybe that would have meant that maybe we could have had ice adolescence. However, we don't live in that world. And that still doesn't mean iceado had to be canceled.

4 - do not forgive or forget about MAPPA

I am not excusing mappa, okay? there is no way I will excuse or forgive mappa for ice adolescence. if they wanted to, they could have fixed this.

I've been thinking about this for maybe 20 minutes and I already have a solution, okay? and if I have a vague plan for how to handle this, then I am dead certain that a whole room full of people working for mappa could have figured it out. this is on the mappa execs, not the people doing the creative process. don't be fooled, the execs are probably just unwilling to try, if Russia's actions (and the actions of its athletes) are part of their reasoning.

5 - iceado could still exist even with everything russia has done

i think that the situation is rightfully delicate. but I also think that if a book like red white & royal blue (an openly gay book) could openly condemn US right wing politics and also portray the oppressive heteronormativity of the british royal family, without outright mentioning any real persons, then yoi s2 or ice ado could potray the figure skating scene in russia negatively and could have the characters leave the country.

they could show yakov as that one different coach in russian figure skating or maybe they could prove that he's your typical russian coach, which played a role in viktor's mental health getting worse and worse.

post-s1 scenes could be about viktor changing his mind and leaving russia, as a result of the doping scandal, or rising tensions internationally about Russia. the fact that we saw him and yuuri and yuri in st. petersburg didn't mean that decision was final. the pressures of a toxic environment could have made viktuuri leave, and whether or not yakov (or anyone) would follow them, or viktor would find another coach is something up for debate, yes, but there can be a debate. There can be a debate about yuri plisetsky about georgi and mila, about what this could mean for them.

iceado could condemn russian politics and the doping, the toxic community, and everything else really. in my opinion, the fact that this didn't happen speaks to mappa's unwillingness to try. im not educated in japan-russia relationships, to be frank, so I'm not sure how much backlash the show could possible face from the Japanese government for a decision like this one. Of course, this would insinuate that Japan is fine with the Ukraine invasion which is, well, not very good press to say the least (and naturally a violation of all sorts of human rights). I do however find it odd that we would never hear anything about talks debating this taking place, which means that once again mappa didn't try. And also, truthfully, just how plausible is it that Japan would go "no don't make more of that very lucrative anime because we don't want to condemn Russia's war / we don't want to condemn Russia's doping"? Because it doesn't sound that plausible to me.

6 - political yoi?

yes, this means that yoi would have become political, but when politics is about the right to live in your home without fear of death or invasion, why exactly shouldn't it get political?

and let's not forget that a world with no homophobia is already unfortunately political. because queer rights are not globally recognized, being pro or against queer rights (of which there are many so some are pro-same sex marriage but against trans rights which complicates things even more) is still a vital part of many many political parties' campaigns in a lot of countries.

yoi was already political in the sense that it showed a world of acceptance, because that's not a given.

what iceado had to do was show that acceptance does not mean ignoring inhumane, unethical actions.

this doesn't need to be the centric idea of iceado or yoi s2, either, by the way. simply showing something bad but realistic is enough. i wouldn't have needed 2 hours depicting the horrors of Russia ft. yuri on ice, but I would have loved to see 2 hours of teenage viktor trying to make it in this cutthroat world, with sporadic evidence of toxicity and too-much pressure, which are almost canon anyways. and any scenes taking place post-s1 could easily just show viktor make a number of realizations and choices that could lead to him leaving russia (to find a new coach or with yakov, with any of the russian skaters in yoi, or just with makkachin and yuuri, etc), which would show that yes they're not just ignoring russia's wrongdoings.

for being released in 2016-17, yoi was delightfully progressive in its queerness. but in 2024, asking the show to condemn doping and war on its way to show us viktor nikiforov's past is apparently too much to ask.

please give me your thoughts on this, yoi fandom, I'd love to see what everyone else thinks!

#yuri on ice #yuri!!! on ice #yoi #longpost #yoi adolescence #ice adolescence #iceado #viktor nikiforov #yakov feltsman #russia #russian figure skating #iceado rant #iceado essay #deelay words #a great many deal of words too

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idksmtms · 3 days

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You Are Not One of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 5

Full Request: https://www.tumblr.com/idksmtms/741566020545839104/im-back-and-this-is-part-2-and-some-things-i?source=share

AN: My sincerest apologies for how FUCKING long it took me to get this out. But just so everyone knows, I am trying to finish writing the ENTIRE story before I post but it is taking me longer than expected because of self control issues. So depending on how much I get written by next week I will either post another part or post the entire story. (Let’s be real, it’ll probably just be another part). But thank you so much to everyone who is reading and waiting patiently for me to get my shit together. I appreciate every single one of you to the moon back!

Summary: You go into hiding for your child’s safety and meet a kind young woman. You make the biggest decision of your life.

Word count: 3,026

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they are both thousands of years old), god racism?? Idk they act like “foreigner gods” is a bad thing, liking the fact that he looks older (is this a warning???), giving your child away (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

In the aftermath of your announcement, you and Poseidon sat together in your little hut trying to come up with a plan to keep your future baby safe. You had both agreed that you could not stay here. Too many people knew about the hut, and you couldn’t risk anyone dropping in for a visit when you weren’t expecting them. You would have to go somewhere no one could find you, at least until you had the baby.

“I-” you paused, knowing what you would have to do but not wanting to say it. Poseidon gently rested his hand atop yours, threading your fingers together as you lay side by side on the bed. “I cannot keep him, you cannot either, not until he grows anyway.” You swallowed back your tears as he turned his head and kissed your temple, keeping his face pressed to your hair as you continued talking. “If we want him to live, if we want there to be no way that either of our peoples may kill him, he will have to live on his own until he is grown, until he can fully use his powers.” Your voice wobbled so much that you wondered if he had understood a single word you had said.

“I know,” he whispered, eyes closing as tears began to gather again. “I know.”

“We must disguise him in some way, as a demigod perhaps?” You posed, trying to push through, trying to force yourself to acknowledge that this is really the only way to keep your child alive long enough to see him again.

“Yes, as a demigod he will be able to live at Camp Half-Blood, he will be safe there until he is grown. He can train, and… he will be happy, I’m sure,” Poseidon’s voice quivered just as yours had and you turned onto your side, wrapping your arm around him and burrowing your face into his neck, inhaling the scent of his skin. He could feel your lashes against his skin and it tickled, but he refused to move away, moving closer in fact.

“Yes,” you replied, and both of you went silent. You weren’t sure for how long, but when he reached up and rubbed at his face, you pulled back. He looked down at you, a gentle smile on his face as he shuffled forward and kissed your forehead.

“I know where you can go. The beach where we first kissed,” he smiled against your head and you giggled, shaking your head, tears now dried. “It has become popular with people now, they have built cabins just before the shoreline. You can live in one of them, hide in plain sight as a human on holiday. If anything goes wrong, just walk into the water and I will find you.” You nodded, agreeing without a second thought. You knew he only had your best interests at heart. You would follow him to the ends of the earth if he asked.

So it was settled. Poseidon would bring you back to that beach, set you up in one of the houses, whichever was closest to the water, and you would live there until the baby was born. He would visit when he could, though it wouldn’t be often lest someone find out where you were, why he was disappearing. The only things you really had to ‘pack’ were your sword, you would go nowhere without it now, and your pearls. They would go everywhere with you, even to death.

Poseidon kissed you, long and hard, before leading you into the water and off to your new life.

You first met Sally Jackson on your third day in hiding. You had finally decided to venture out of the cabin, desperate to lay on the beach and catch the sun at least for a few hours. You had walked along the water's edge, dipping your toes in but nothing more or he would get worried and try to come to you. You had walked to the edge of the cabins, whispering to your child, stories that you made up in the moment or histories of the gods that Loki had once told you with glee. On the way back, just when you had turned, you saw her walking toward you, or rather, toward the final cabin.

She was beautiful, in a gentle and effortless way. Her hair was brown and windblown, curling in the sea air. Her cheeks were ruddy from the sunshine but still smooth, and permanently pulled up in the hint of a smile. Her eyes were blue, a blue that reminded you of Poseidon, and you couldn’t help the lifting of your spirits. She wore a blue sundress, flowy and almost grecian in its colour and style. She was young, surely in her twenties, and you could only wish that the blink of her existence would be remembered.

“Lovely day, isn’t it?” She asked as she approached, sandals in her hand, arms swinging happily.

“Beautiful,” you replied, smile brightening. “It would be foolish not to step out and catch the sun.”

“Agreed! One hundred percent,” she laughed, a deep and jovial sound that made your stomach tickle and laugh along with her. “Are you staying in one of the cabins then?” She asked, walking a little closer and standing by you as you looked out at the ocean (rather wistfully).

“Yes, just down the other end, the one closest to the water,” you told her, pointing toward your new home.

“Oh wonderful! I’m just here,” she gestured to the final, tucked farther back and close to the septic tanks. “I’m Sally, Sally Jackson,” she held out her hand to you, eyes bright.

“I am Y/n,” you answered, shaking her hand gently, watching her in awe. She may be human, but she was the best one you had encountered to date.

“How long are you here?” She asked, walking with you despite it being the opposite way to her home.

“A long time,” you answered simply, but when her face twisted in question, you laughed, and tried again. “I’m pregnant, you see,” you rested your hands on your belly though it wasn’t showing yet.

“Oh! Congratulations! That’s amazing!” She clapped happily, stopping to reach over and hug you tightly, dropping her shoes in the sand.

“Thank you,” your voice was small, clogged up with emotion. She was the first person you had told other than Poseidon. The only person you could tell really, the only person who couldn’t do anything to hurt your child. “Anyway,” you wiped under your eyes, “I am staying here until the baby is born.” She nodded along with your words, ‘ahing’ in understanding.

“That’s amazing, you picked a wonderful place. I would love to stay here before I have a child.” Her voice was wistful and you just rested a hand on her arm, hoping to comfort her in a way words couldn’t. You didn’t know much about her, almost nothing at all, but she was good, good to the core. You could feel it.

‘I’m sure it will happen,” you answered, and she just laughed lightly, smiling brightly at you in thanks.

“Well, I’m glad there will be someone else around just as long as me,” she began, and you offered her a look of surprise. “Yes, I’ll be here for the next year or so. I’ve finished school, and I don’t really know what I want to do. They gave me this place for cheap so I’ll stay here until I can figure something out, I have enough savings for it anyway. Not particularly excited to run back to NYC just yet, you know? I love the city but it can get overwhelming really easily, and I need a long break. So it’s just me and my thoughts and the beach,” she shrugged, leaning her head back to stare up at the sky, bathe her face in the sun. You watched her for a moment, the peace on her face and the looseness of her limbs, and in that moment you made a decision you knew would alter the course of history.

You decided that Sally Jackson would be the one to take your baby.

You waited until it was midnight, when only the light of the moon shone over the beach. Then you ventured out, over the sand into the surf, walking until the water lapped at your knees and when you sat down each wave brushed all the way up to your neck. The water was cold but welcome. The feeling of your skin going prickly made you shiver as you waited for Poseidon to appear. You met once a month in the darkest hour of the night, at the place where the water always met the sand.

You sensed him right before you felt his arms wrap around you. He pulled you to sit between his legs, leaning against his chest. He pressed his face to your hair, inhaling deeply and sighing like every weight he had ever carried was suddenly lifted. You smiled, skin suddenly warm and tingly, and you tilted your head back to press a kiss to his jawline.

“Hello,” you whispered, a dreamy smile on your lips and eyes half open.

“Hello,” he returned equally quietly, then you both sat there in the quiet for some time. Though time was dwindling, neither of you wanted to disturb this moment of peace. It was so rare to feel completely at ease these days, and you wanted to take advantage of it as much as possible.

Finally, after a long enough time had passed that you knew you only had a few moments left together, you turned in his hold and grasped his face in your hands. Your thumbs caressed the apples of his cheeks, your fingertips just grazing the edges of his hairline by his ears. You smiled, a small warm thing that made his chest feel a little too tight.

“I have found the perfect person to take Perseus until he comes of age,” you finally said, voice so quiet that for a moment he thought it was just a whisper amidst the waves.

“Who?” It was short, clipped, not harsh (because he could never be harsh with you, even if he tried) but worried and almost desperate.

“Her name is Sally, Sally Jackson,” you sounded so happy when you said it, like you wholeheartedly believed in this person, so Poseidon nodded and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“And you trust her?” He asked, caressing your stomach with soft fingers that almost tickled.

“Yes.” There was no doubt in your voice, not even a waver, and he could see the firmness in your eyes, the conviction that the fates had led you to this woman for a reason, for this reason. “I think you should meet her, just to see for yourself. I-I know it is risky, but I think you will understand once you meet her.” You sat up and turned so you were facing him. You had a smile on your face, a small smile of hope that he hadn’t seen since you found out you were carrying his child. He nodded, but he didn’t smile. You understood, you understood better than anyone else would ever understand, and you reached up and caressed his bearded cheek, running your thumb over his cheekbones as he closed his eyes and leaned into your hand.

“I love you.”

“I need to tell you something.” You turned to face Sally as you both sat on the sand just out of the water’s reach. It was a bright and sunny day, the sand warm and crumbly under you, and you dug your toes and fingers into it.

It had been three and a half months since you had met Sally Jackson and you had spent almost every day with her. You would spend days walking along the beach, swimming in the ocean, cooking with each other or just reading in each other’s company. To her it was the perfect summer, to you… to you it proved so much more. She found it odd that you didn’t have a phone, that you had never cooked before, that there were so many normal things that you simply didn’t know how to do. But she was sweet, and patient, and always ready to help you no matter what.

“What is it?” Sally asked, sitting up onto her elbows on the blanket and turning to you, eyes squinted as she pushed her sunglasses onto her forehead.

“I have not been completely honest with you,” you gulped, rubbing your hands together before picking up some sand and letting it fall through your fingers. She waited for you to speak, and until the sand had completely fallen through your fingers, you didn’t. “I am not…”

“Not what?” She asked, leaning forward slightly and staring at you with eyebrows furrowed.

“I am not… human,” you finally breathed, turning to rest your cheek on your knees and watch her expression.

First she let out a breathless laugh, the kind that huffs out of one’s chest and doesn’t sound sincere. Then she gazed at you for a long while without saying a word. Her face was serious, not a hint of that disbelieving laughter from moments prior. She reached out and gently touched the ends of your hair, a dainty caress, then she sighed so long and loud that you began to worry about her.

“You sound absolutely insane, but I think I’m worse because I believe you. It actually makes a lot more sense that you’re something otherworldly rather than a human. Like you said you’ve never cut your hair but how has it not grown any longer than that? You said you’ve never been shopping in your life but you somehow always have new clothes. And… I don’t know, there’s just something about you that doesn’t seem real. You don’t seem real.” You smiled sadly as she spoke, closing your eyes and listening to the gentle swish of the waves crawling up the beach.

“I told you because there is something very important I need to ask you. If you are willing to listen, I will tell you everything that has happened that led to my being here. Then you may decide your answer to the question I will pose.” You opened your eyes and watched her face as you spoke. Her brows furrowed as if she couldn’t quite understand what you were saying and why you were saying it, but eventually she nodded and you turned to fully face her. You sat with your legs crossed, hands clasped, and began from the beginning.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, staring at you as if you had just asked her to cut off her head and hand it to you on a platter. You smiled woefully, a horizon of tears trembling on your lash line.

“I understand, it is a huge thing to ask of a friend, even more than huge, but you are the only one I trust, the only person I know who will be capable. My child cannot go back with me, they will kill him once they know who its father is. I… I cannot let that happen, Sally. I cannot. He deserves to live a full life, deserves to know that he is the product of love, that he is loved. He will grow up to be a god one day, he will grow up to be powerful and to unite worlds, simply by being himself.” You saw the way her chest trembled as she breathed, you could hear each raspy breath. Her nose was running, her upper lip pulled taut over her teeth as she chewed on it. Her eyes were rimmed with pain and redness and tears and you wanted to reach out and hug her but stayed your hand.

“Sally… I understand I have asked the world of you. And of course you need not make the decision now, you have all the time in the world, until this child is born. He will be disguised as a demigod, so even if either world discovers of his existence, they will not think twice about him. You must raise him until he is old enough to make the journey to Camp Half-Blood. He will be safe there, and your job will be done.” You stopped and you swallowed, wiping at your eyes. “You may think me crazy to ask this of you, I understand, truly, I do. But you are the strongest person I know, human or god.” She stared up at you, hands trembling and face open in surprise. You reached out and grabbed her hands. “Because you have something everyone can only wish for. A strong character. A strong will. I know no one else who would do this as well as I know you would. I know you will be the best mother, regardless of if the child is your own or not. I know you will nurture them, protect them, love them. So please, think about it, ask me anything you wish to ask, and only then, make your decision.”

Both of you sat there for hours, not saying a word. Sally had pressed her face into her hands, breathing steadily, and you could almost hear her thinking. You did not say a word, just lay flat on the blanket and stared up at the sky, hands on your stomach. You caressed it up and down, whispering to the child in your mind, telling him that this would be for the best, that this was the only way to keep him alive. But this did nothing to dissipate the pain in your heart.

You felt Sally shift beside you and you turned to look at her from where you lay on the blanket. She had finally pulled her hands away from her face and had wiped her eyes. They were still puffy and red but she was staring out at the sea with determination on her face.

“I want to meet him. Your husband. Before I decide.”

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storiesbyrhi · 2 days

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Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: You are wide awake. 2340 words.

1986

Every day Eddie watched the jar. He watched how the moon water moved, alive and with a viscosity different from regular water. He watched the apple slices dry and the sprigs of lavender go stiff. He thought if he watched closely enough, he’d see the magic working, but he never caught a glimmer of craft.

When it was time, you let him plant the enchanted seed in the new coven neighbourhood. Your home would grow furthest out, close to the shade of the woods. A spell later, you were traveling back to Forest Hills to begin packing the trailer up.

It had been months since you’d moved in, therefore you had accumulated a lot of items.

“Do you need all of these?” Eddie asked, holding up one of five shoeboxes, all packed with feathers you had found. “And is this a normal amount of feathers to find? What is wrong with the birds in Hawkins?”

“Yes and no and a lot. I told you that if you are gonna help, you can’t question every single thing you pick up,”

“I’m doing no such thing,” he rebutted.

“Eddie, you told me to cull my jar collection,”

“I stand by it. There are too many. You can collect more,”

“I use them! Frequently! And I don’t just keep any jar. All the ones I have are, like, uniquely shaped or extra sturdy!” you whined. “Asking a witch to not collect jars is just…” You shook your head, not able to find the words to express the atrocity.

Eddie smiled at you softly. “Perhaps I am not the best helper,” he conceded. “Perhaps my time would be better spent doing something else,”

“Something else like use your vampire speed to clean the bathroom, or something else like turn into a bat and sleep?”

An hour later, Eddie was asleep in one of the boxes containing clothes, and you were wrapping more empty jars in bubble wrap.

…

A monument to witchcraft and love. That’s what Eddie thought when he saw the house. It had the glorious drama of Ev’s Victorian home and the softness of the other witches’ cottages. Expansive stained glass windows. Detailed architraves, the wood so dark it appeared black. Red brick. A single-story structure, but the dome of a conservatory was visible over the roof. It extended back into the woods, settling into the landscape as if it had always been there.

Eddie thought back to all the places he had lived in. The house his father’s rage felt the brunt of as much as he did. The farm he came into adulthood on. The colony caves. The cold and lonely hotel rooms. The trees above Forest Hills. He’d never had a home, apart from your arms, but there it was. Real and in front of him.

The sun was setting over the valley as Eddie stood before the house. You’d seen it early that day, doing your final checks before okaying the move. It was your magic the house grew from, so naturally you were less awestruck by it. The floorplan and aesthetic had been born in your mind. Still, it was a beautiful thing.

“Think it will do?” you asked Eddie, coming to stand beside him.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. “It’s…” How many different words were there for ‘home,’ he wondered. What language could fully communicate the depth of emotion?

“Enchanted seeds create homes, not houses,” you told him as you walked towards the front door. “Come and see.”

Eddie followed, almost expecting something to happen as he crossed the front door threshold. Once inside, Eddie clenched his jaw. It was more perfect than he could have anticipated.

The furniture was plush and comfortable, an eclectic mix of antique pieces and modern amenities. Bookshelves stood tall and waiting, ready for the library to arrive. Potted ivy trailed up and around curtain railings and along the walls.

“You never got to see my place in the Catskills. A lot of the furniture comes from there. The rest comes from the seed… It’s the kind of magic that makes me wish we could study it, you know? I want to know the science of it. How does it work?”

“It seems to me that part of the power of magic is in the unknowing,” Eddie replied, as wise as any of the Witches Who Came Before.

“It does appear to be the case,” you agreed.

For a while, you let Eddie wander aimlessly through the house.

He marvelled at the bath, huge and round, like a pond and definitely big enough for two. A huge wardrobe door that opened into a secret library. The conservatory full of thriving plants, flowers, herbs, and other living things Eddie did not have a word for. Every window a different shape but never square. Strange detailing like cat shaped doorknobs and pink quartz basins.

Eventually, Eddie sat on the end of the huge bed, its four posts grand and its linen crisp. He looked over at you and held out his hands.

“Come.”

You walked to him, taking his hands, and standing between his legs. Eddie looked up at you with those sparkling brown eyes, the adoration radiating from him.

“It’s an irrational idea, this fear I have that I’m dreaming. That I am still cursed, haunting this town until the end of time. But a vampire cannot dream. The cursed cannot dream. But still…”

Gently, you let go of Eddie’s hands and leaned into him, snaking your fingers into his hair as he pressed himself into your body, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You are wide awake. Alive… kind of… But definitely here. With me. In our home. Soon-to-be, with our friends. Our family. And just in time for Halloween.”

He purred a happy sound, nodding into you. “A witch’s favourite holiday?” he hazarded a guess.

“Hmm, not all of us. Most of the witches I’ve known tended to find more obscure holidays to worship at the altar of. New Years is a big one, too. Alas, I am but a cliché All Hallows witch,”

“With much respect, I see that,” Eddie said. You laughed, shrugged. He looked up at you again. “You did fall in love with a vampire, after all.”

…

Far away from the rest of the world, you and Eddie spent almost a week settling into the new house. Grimoires were catalogued into one of the three library rooms. Dandelion puffs were jarred and shelved. Every trinket found its home.

Eddie tested the rainbow light that flooded the rooms, discovering that in the magic there was safety. Sunlight that filtered through the windows did not burn him. He could be free and at ease.

You explained to Eddie the importance of representing the elements within the home. Earth in the plants, wooden carpentry, and the grounding crystals. Fire in the candles, ever-burning incense, and roaring fireplaces that only ever emitted the exact level of heat you wanted. (“In summer, the flames burn cold,” you told Eddie and watched his smile grow.) Water in the mirrors, seashells, and small fountains found in the glasshouse room. Lastly, air in the wind chimes, feathers, and windows that could remain open without upsetting the temperature inside.

During the day, you began work on your garden, creating flower beds in the shape of pentagrams and sewing seeds. Borage for the butterflies and bees, primrose – I can’t live without you; angelica in case you need to break any future hexes; and yarrow, amaryllis, and polypodies.

One evening, just before sunset, you found Eddie rummaging through the apothecary pantry. As you entered the room, his manic smile told you he’d had an idea.

“What’s the story, morning glory?” you asked him, perching on a stool.

Eddie sunk to his knees and shrugged. “The fires are out… The Shire is no longer burning,”

“The Shire being… Hawkins?”

“Yes. And us. We’ve sailed to the Undying Lands,”

“You’re really making Tolkien your whole personality, huh?” you joked.

Eddie smiled up at you. “Until the next book… But what I’m saying is, now that we do not have a battle to prepare for. No conflict upon the horizon. What do we do with all of eternity?”

“Oh… My plan was to eat a lot of Meg’s cinnamon rolls… Try to get Steve Harrington to stop haunting Mel… Maybe work on a spell to make myself teeny tiny so I can ride around on you when you’re a bat…”

“Wait, seriously?”

You gave him a sly smile. “Maybe,”

“Well, I would love that… But, I was thinking a little more introspectively. Back to things we have thought about before. Like, why I am the way that I am… What that means…” He ran a finger along the leaves of the mimosa pudica plant beside him. The leaves felt his touch, curled inwards on themselves. It was one of Eddie’s favourites, the way it reacted to the world around it.

“Any new insights?” you asked softy.

“No… But… If I believe in you and in your magic and the way you make sense of the world… then I… I have to do something,”

“Do something?”

“We get back what we give, right?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “It’s not always obvious or direct. Or timely. Or even equally fair… But, yeah… There is definitely something like the concept of karma at play. And even if there isn’t, living as if there is can only be a good thing,”

“Then I must show more grace… and gratitude… Even if I am a monster, maybe especially because I am… I can give goodness too.”

Without thinking, you slid off the stool and joined Eddie on the floor. “You already do. You don’t owe the world anything.”

Eddie smiled, first a small soft thing, almost sad, but then it twisted into something else. Ear-to-ear and full of teeth. “I owe it more than one life,”

“But if we count all the lives you have saved. Both by killing what plagued this town, and by preventing deaths at the hands of bad people-”

“Morality cannot be simple addition and subtraction. There is no math that can quantify goodness or righteousness. You know that,” Eddie cut in. He watched your face, saw the pensiveness blossom across it. “Don’t worry, my little witch, my plan is not as life-or-death as this all makes it seem… I just want to do something good for your friends,”

“Your friends,” you corrected quickly. “They’ll be your friends too. Your family. You’re part of this coven.”

Eddie reached out to cup your face in his hands. “Your coven is yours. But I will take the friendship. I have years of loneliness to make up for,”

“Then what-”

He cut you off again, this time with a kiss. You brought your hands up to his shoulders, draping your arms around his neck. Eddie pulled you into his lap and you curled into him like the leaves of the mimosa.

His mouth kissed and sucked at your neck between sentence fragments. “I’m-” kiss “going-” kiss “to plant-” lick “them-” kiss “flowers.” His punctuation a kiss that wanted to be a bite.

You were hardly listening to his words. His words and ideas and introspective musings could all wait.

Eddie laid you down on the floor, the smell of the oak still new. You arched your back and pulled him down by his collar.

“Bed,” you mumbled into his mouth.

“Why build a house if we’re not gonna use it,” he answered.

One hand splayed next to your head to keep him up, the other tickling its way under the hem of your skirt and up your thigh.

“Besides,” Eddie said. “Doesn’t feel like you can wait.” He was sliding your underwear off, throwing them across the room. He rested a hand on you, sliding an index finger through your slickness.

“I can’t,” you agreed, breathy and impatient. “Now. I want you now.”

Eddie didn’t have to be asked twice. With his pants still hanging from an ankle, he was fast to set up and slow on approach. You felt the tip of him follow the path made by his hand, gathering wetness, and shooting electricity through your body.

You melted into jelly beneath him, bliss written all over your face. Eddie loved you like this, pliable and prone to tears of ecstasy.

He held himself back, keeping his pace slow and steady. His vampire muscles screamed to go faster, to rail you into next week, but he liked pulling you apart. Liked how you unconsciously uttered strings of words like ‘full’ and ‘please’ and ‘can’t.’ Liked when you clawed at him to come closer, bit down on his shoulder.

“I love you,” he told you, mouth on your ear, tongue licking. “So. Fucking. Much.”

There was a seemingly endless amount of ways Eddie had learned could make you cum. Talking to you was a favourite for you both.

“You’re so perfect, so perfect… You feel so perfect… You’re so warm and soft and I… I want to eat you whole…”

Your response was in the pooling tears and the nodding and the slack jaw. The begging, “Please. Please.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” It was all it took. Your orgasm exploded moments before his. Eddie’s thrusting getting harder and faster for the few seconds he took to follow you. He had to grind his teeth together to stop himself from ripping into your neck.

You kept your eyes closed, not aware of your surroundings. When you felt Eddie’s arms slide beneath you, you smiled and hummed. He carried you to your new bed, cleaning your skin with a warm washcloth before curling himself in behind you.

With the last of your day’s energy, you tangled your fingers through his, falling asleep happily.

As Eddie listened to your breathing find its mellow night rhythm, he saw a vision of you in his mind. Hands full of flowers and foliage. A coven of audience. Glorious and beaming.

End Note: I made a small Pinterest board with inspo for their house - click here to view.

I hope you are all as well as any of us can be at a time like this. I hope this story continues to provide comfort, escapism, and fuel for daydreams. xo Rhi

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