#deaf s/o
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what does it take
♥ summary: after failing the labyrinth, you had spent your eternity being a servant of the castle.
♥ relationships: jareth x deaf feminine reader
♥ word count: 1.3k
♥ warnings: s/o is a servant, can lip read, can speak, s/o is compared to a rat in a metaphor
♥ author’s note: @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore hi! this is for you - sorry it took so long
You wished yourself away. Sometimes, now, you look back at the memory of that day. A part of you tries to convince yourself that it was something injust, or impulsive, instead of it being something you had wished for for half of your life. At the hands of both thorns and bristles, being raised in a garden of such had pricked at your mind and skin. You wanted to go away.
So he took you.
He put you through high walls and low floors and warping tunnels and turning corners. Each step felt like you were on an up-climb hill through a path that remained the same degree.
Something that helped you navigate the terrain was your nose. You've always had a good sense of smell.
He watched as you sniffed the air, escaping the stench of big goblins and disgusting swamps, and he noticed this peculiar ability of yours very quickly. At first, he wondered how you always seemed to know the right way to go, and when he threw in more challenges, he came to the mystical conclusion.
But even with your capabilities, you had still failed. So sad. He almost had faith in you.
He had put his finger under your chin when he snapped those servants clothes on you. "Beautiful," he teased. "Look at you."
Being something similar to his maid wasn't exactly a mercy. You had a lot of chores to do. This place is disgusting and it continues to be disgusting no matter how hard you work, sometimes you would be cleaning for days on end, not getting any breaks yet not feeling the need to have one. Time in general is a bit quirky, and this much was learned rather quickly- or slowly, you can't tell.
Beyond sweeping (which is the thing you spend most of the time doing), there is a lot of scrubbing once it comes to meal time. The feast in the castle is spread out between many moons. It seems to be a prime-event, but not prime enough for it to actually be considered special. It certainly isn't a formal of any sorts. Whenever he needs your attention he will just send the floor under you vibrating until you find your way back to him.
A plate of untouched food will be lunged your way, flying in the air, aimed at your back. You don't even notice it. What saves you is the tile beneath you collapsing, sending you falling downward in the dark, before your body passes through another hole, leading you to fall from the ceiling back in the dining room once again. Your head hurts beyond confusion. How did you even land on your feet? He scolds the creatures loudly, slamming his hand down on the table. They all rumble and scramble to sit in their correct places. When you look at him, trying to get his attention, he merely stares at the wall and continues to sip from his wine. That wine. You know the smell perfectly by now.
He doesn't tolerate the goblins messing with you because really, that's his job. He is the one that creates warps within the floors and walls for you to fall in. He's the one that uses your smelling ability to lead you in corners and block you there, using mazes to entertain himself like a scientist watching a rat navigate ruins for cheese.
Sometimes you even hit a creature with your broom when they're pestering you too much. It makes him laugh.
He thinks you're cute. At first, it was a cute in the form of pity. You're a human, a simple one at that, and though you have your interesting traits, you will hardly be anything beyond that. But the more he watches you, the more that cute becomes somewhat of adoration, maybe even appreciation. You're adorable, the kind of adorable that makes him smile whenever he's watching you.
It's hard to tell whether you feel the same way about him. You don't exactly look at him beyond wanting explanations or instructions. You tend not to interact with him at all - is it because you can hardly?
He brings you into the balls, the beautiful ones that he creates out of fiction, just to see what you'd do. You never partake as if you are a participant. You stand back, eyes scanning, as if you were a servant hired to please the guests.
You take your role seriously, it seems.
Do something, he internally begs. Your eyes don't even track him as he moves through the crowd. What are you even looking at, if not him? He grimaces, swirling his hand in the air to create another atmosphere, one similar to the previous, only noticeably different if you squint. A new person with a red topcoat carries a wine in their hand, his favorite wine. Jareth glances at you to see if you notice.
Your nose points to them first. That smell, you know that smell, and in a clustered scene like this, it's a bit comforting to have something familiar. You look at him back before somebody clouds your line of sight and he vanishes.
You haven't moved almost all night. You just stood in your place, almost awkwardly, watching the crowd. There is something about that smell that keeps distracting you. It's different somehow. There seems to be a bit of spice to it, like it's something acidic. Before you even realize it, you are stepping into the crowd. You don't even notice the way he lurks behind you.
The thing smells dangerous, like something that should be monitored and inspected, so when Jareth appears in front of you, taking the wine from the persons hand, your steps speed up. "Hey," you try to say, but your voice falls flat. How noisy is this environment? Would he be able to hear you? You look around to see if mouths are moving, but most are covered with masks. Would it be rude if you scream, even if something bad might be happening?
You feel so close yet so far especially when he lifts it up to his lips. Tunnel vision, it makes your head spin, but it doesn't affect your aim as you slap the glass from his hand, spilling its contents on your arm in the process.
The world around you withered away. All the light blues and the whites of the dresses and walls fade into nothing, nothing but cobblestone floors and unfolded clothes.
You're rested on the floor, his hand gripping your arm, and him crouched over you.
His other hand grabs your mouth and forces you to look at him. "Why did you do that?"
That's a strange sense of irritation that he's never expressed to you.
When his eyes flicker to your arm, you follow his gaze, catching a glimpse before he can force your eyes up once again. You can see the lack of skin from the area that was hit by the drink, it appears as if it had been sizzled off completely. You can't feel a thing.
He keeps mouthing words to you but you can't find yourself focusing. Eventually he furrows his brows, covering the wound with is hand until it disappears completely.
"Look," he tries to draw your attention. He repeats the word over and over until you actually listen. "You are okay." He communicates to you.
You actually tried to save him. He didn't expect that.
He doesn't quite understand where that motive came from. Did you think he would be mad if you didn't?
Would he have?
Mad, no, and not even a ting of disappointment. It would probably have just motivated him to find something else to do to get to you.
This is not the outcome he wanted, however. His heart is beating out of his chest and his eyes keep looking you up and down. He's never seen you this panicked - and what confuses him more is the way you are curled into his chest. His loose sleeves wrap around you when he brings you into an embrace.
You close your eyes in the reassurance, but he keeps his open, squinted in thought.
His heart was beating. How strange is that.
#jareth#labyrinth#the labyrinth#x deaf reader#deaf s/o#x deaf s/o#jareth x reader#jareth the goblin king#the goblin king
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Imagine if Pearl had a real life Guest Y/N, you know from Roblox? they cant hear anything, so Pearl has to write it down, that's why Y/N has a black board and a dry erase marker.
I don't own the art It Belongs to Rubixin credit to them here's the picrew.
https://picrew.me/image_maker/1389023
Ok so pretty much like a deaf and mute s/o Alright then
so if they can’t hear I can see two ways it can go
A: pearl helps you she uses her various gem technologies to try and cure your deafness and with her tech thousands of years more advanced than our own she would probably be successful. And then she would use it as a tool to try and guilt you into staying with her and if she has to take more drastic measures she doesn’t have to worry about you telling anyone.
b: she uses your deafness to her advantage to stalk and track you with ease being able to follow you around watch you in your own home and spy on you without you ever noticing. And when she comes to take you in the night she never has to worry about anyone hearing you scream
#Deaf s/o#Mute s/o#su#steven universe#yandere su#yandere#yandere steven universe#asks#yandere asks#ask#yandere pearl#Pearl#pearl su#Pearl Steven universe#Pearl x reader#yandere pearl x reader#Yandere Steven Universe x reader
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Hey, I saw one of your posts "Deaf S/O with characters knowing ASL" maybe could I get something similar but with teaching characters who you think might be willing or want to learn it for their S/O?
Deaf S/O teaching Gundham Tanaka and Kyoko Kirigiri ASL headcanons
I picked the top woman and the top man I think would kill to know ASl.
also I made them hcs bc I was stressing over the speech aspect of it so.
I want mcdonalds so bad rn - update I got mcdonald's let's fucking go.
currently listening: youtube subliminals
✫✫✫✫✫
-Mod Souda
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Gundham Tanaka
❤ He is interested, horribly interested. He already knows the basic command terms in JSL to communicate with his more intelligent animals, but ASL, and for a human, seems like almost a fun little project.
❤ He uses his mouth a lot when he signs and it's just something he picked up from JSL. You love it when he signs to you, his intense eyes sometimes wonder, as he is not used to looking at a person for so long, though he never looks at you like he's too concentrated (he raises his eyebrows when he needs, and he smiles when he needs too).
❤ He is a more teach-me-casually type of person.
❤ To you specifically, he is more calm and he uses his inside voice, so when he signs it portrays that. Sometimes he shows a devilish smile that perfectly portrays his sense of wicked-ness (the one that he tries to give off), and you think it's amusing how sometimes his evil aura can be genuine.
❤ He knows animal signs the best, and not because he picks up on them but because he studies them extra hard. He wants to be able to communicate his heavy appreciation of animals.
❤ He has a lot of his own versions of signing "come over here".
❤ There's something a bit flamboyant about the way he decides to sign his own name - it's as if he practices how to introduce himself.
❤ His radiant smile gives a glow to every word he decides to say, he is so handsome that sometimes it steals your breath away.
❤ He signs some things wrong and he doesn't even notice, he does it so often that sometimes you secondguess yourself - am I doing it wrong?
❤ He went from originally having nothing to say, but the more you sit down with him and teach him, he talks a lot.
❤ It's easy to teach him nouns but once it comes to verbs and especially adjectives he's like woah there.
❤ He doesn't pick up ASL fast, because who would, but he gets the sentence structure and the grammar perfectly, and you're very amazed by that.
.
Kyoko Kirigiri
❤ She is the most interested as well as one of the most willing. She thinks knowing some sign languages might make her investigations a lot smoother, especially considering it gives her easy accessibility to talking to more hypothetical suspects. The SHSL Detective does a lot of planning for future situations.
❤ She likes it when you sit down in front of her like a teacher and teach her some words. She'd rather learn like that than you tell her random words throughout the day.
❤ She is a note-taker and a flashcard learner.
❤ Her biggest struggle is her straight face. She has to maneuver her eyebrows and lip shape now? MAn.
❤ Tries to figure out how to use big words but she quality realizes really one of the main differences between excellent and good is facial expressions.
❤ She still uses "interesting" a lot.
❤ ^ She even got the raising of eyebrows.
❤ Her levels of communication are a lot more advanced than other people, and even for her consistent solitude she still finds a way to be mildly appealing to talk to when it comes to conversations she wants to be in. And she wants to be in almost every conversation in ASL since it requires the commitment of actually recognizing she knows it.
❤ Plus, it's good practice. Day-to-day conversations slowly become sign-based.
❤ There is also the tinge of secrecy that she likes about ASL. Especially in Japan, not many people know sign language, nevertheless one from another country, so she finds a good sense of pride in knowing it and being able to communicate to you in public.
❤ Hey, if you're ever a part of an investigation (actively) she will have confidence in your presence.
#danganronpa#danganronpa imagines#deaf s/o#gundham tanaka x reader#gundham tanaka#x deaf s/o#x deaf reader#kirigiri kyoko#kyoko kirigiri#kyouko kirigiri#kyoko kirigiri x reader#x reader
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If old witch sleep and good man’s grace doesn’t jump scare you then you’re not listening to it loud enough
#thems the rules#I don’t care if I’ll be deaf by 30 if I can’t hear joeys voice in my b o n e s I don’t want it#joey batey#madeleine hyland#the amazing devil
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your F/Os think your hearing aids are cool! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)
#f/o#fictional other#self ship#f/o stuff#self shipping#f/o x s/i#romantic f/o#f/o community#villain f/o#comfort characters#disabled self shipper#hard of hearing#deaf self shipper
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youtube
Video: "Dominican Republic officially recognizes sign language"
by The Daily Moth - (interview with Dominican Republic's National Association of the Deaf)
Transcript: www.dailymoth.com/blog/dominican-republic-officially-recognizes-sign-language
Video Upload: July 28, 2023
#am post on Deaf Awareness Month#own country news for context (2 month later tho):#ley 5-13 (general disability bill) not have enough for specific needs nor Deaf/hoh culture nor sign - so was need separate bill#for recognize sign language(s) as own language n future support + resource that need wrt that#Dominican Sign Language - dialect of ASL - also recent years get compile with dictionary universalize.#Though that not mean that what all Dominican deaf Hoh use - as many use home sign or force speak.#Activist try very hard here resource + recognize.#o post#video post#sij#dominican republic#Youtube
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I do think Sevika deserves a nice massage after carrying the burdens of her job and cleaning up after Jinx. Those muscles of hers must be tense.
maybe she deserves a week-long nap or two. stock up on her favourite beverage to make up for a very bad day.
#sevika imagine#sevika x reader#i know my deaf oc would offer a nice massage to Sevika for the past 5-7 years#sevika too tired to socialise with her deaf S/O? say no more and just have a nice quiet evening instead
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smth that makes me& smile a lil is that while ik I& talked a lil bit about it a while back, pisl & asl have different signs depending on different cultures & that pisl was a major influence on asl. like, the signs for woman, for example, are very different in both languages. in pisl it refers to the braids while in asl it refers to the bonnet a (white) woman would wear. & pisl has different signs for different nations unlike in asl where iirc it's just fingerspelled. & pisl wasn't just exclusive to D/deaf & hoh natives, pisl was for hearing natives too & it was used to tell stories & be used in storytelling & ceremonies & courting & elders would use it to make D/deaf & hoh native children feel welcome & that's 🥺💕✨ so i& need to dust up on my& signing again bc i& hope to weave pisl signs & combine them w/ asl
#arcana.txt#hoh.txt#also s/o to our& one deaf system friend who we& lost contact w/ that gave us& a sign name 😭😭😭😭
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And now for some fanart.
Shoulda used a ruler but it is what it is.
#mpreg#omega jason todd#mpreg Jason Todd#omegaverse#alpha koriand'r#jaykori#myart#when you can't reach to put your shoes on anymore so your s/o has gotta help you#always pushing my Deaf!Jason agenda#He's got a cochlear implant yessir#Kori be learning how to tie shoes#for some people tying shoes just does not compute with their brain#my brother wears shoes with velcro or asks someone else to tie them to this day#because he still can't understand#and there's nothing wrong with that
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some new ffxiv beans
#ffxiv#ffxiv oc#x'tahnr#kazu#i. do not have the motivation to draw or do anything like i used to but. im sincerely hoping i find the urge again#so have some ffxiv beans#x'tahnr is an ala mhigan who fled w/ his parents when he was just a little baby and now he lives at tailfeather tending to chocobos#he's deaf/blind on his right side bc of an old injury so hes useless on hunts but a dear with the birbs#also has like one braincell dont strain it too much#kazu is just Evil Crime Bun from nise's backstory thats gonna get fleshed out more to play with a friend's character hehe#seems like we're focusing in on experimenting with aether stuff (wouldnt be a criminal if it wasnt illegal on his end) so thatll be neat bc#he gives me black mage vibes#//wipes the dust off this blog even tho. i dont actually know if i want to keep it#loads of stuff here doesnt make me happy anymore and i dont know if i have the energy to comb through and delete stuff#a nice new art blog for ffxiv stuff and maybe some fanart would be nice??? nise's the only survivor of the batch of ocs he was made with so-#migrating some of his older art over to a new blog would be p easy#i love my steady idiot boi#hhhhh anyway i have some art i owe some good friends of their WoLs bc i love them //s o b s#and silly things i Do want to draw about these two as well as wol!nise's adventures#we'll see we'll see
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anyways im dropping a s*gn of aff*ction
#personal#the art style is cute. its nice to have a disabled protag and... uhh idk what else i'd praise#i didnt really understand what made the main two interested in each other beyond liking each other's looks#it might be a demographic thing. its a shoujo even if the characters themselves are adults. the guy is 22. but the girl's main thing is#being perceived as cute. i personally am not too into that (though idk if i'd think differently if it was two women)#i also wish the main girl's personality wasnt like that. i was almost halfway thru and it seems to just be cute and pure#she liked the guy bc he didnt treat her like a freak or whatever but that seems like a low bar to me fsdhfsd#and im not deaf so ig correct me if this is bad to say but it feels like the deaf women are always more innocent seeming? compared to their#male counterparts? a s*lent vo*ce/a s*gn of aff*ction vs gangsta./o*samu r*nking/vagabond#which... i think sucks kinda lol#like can we please give this girl some personality#i could ignore the no plot besides romance (and all characters are romantically attracted to someone else for some reason) if it was more#enjoyable#anyways moving on#i do feel like i need to reread stl to cleanse my palate or something tho hm
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the v's reaction to someone taking your hearing aid
♥ summary: "what the Vees would do if they noticed their partially deaf s/o being picked on - like the other people would tear out their hearing aid(s) and break them and stuff" @aceduchessdragoness
♥ characters: velvette, vox, valentino
♥ notes: screaming and crying okay so i did val's spanish as spain spanish bc i think spain sign language would be better than narrowing his signs down to a specific latin american country but if the translation is cringe then tell me bc i'm literally using an lse dictionary
Vox
♥ word count: 1.9k
♥ notes: i use [Y/N] for the first time in my career ong, she/her pronouns used in third person, reader doesn't speak and only signs, protective but violent vox, vox in a healthy relationship, reader gets harassed in public
It was never a mystery to you how Vox always knew where you were. Even without the watch on your wrist, you felt his eyes on you, the looming knowledge of persistent monitoring.
Not that it bothered you, of course. If anything, you were worried that he wanted to spend his time watching you instead of running his business. But whatever, it was flattering.
Whenever you went on your routine errands, you would smile at every television or security camera you encountered. On the big screens in Vox's room, he feels like the common softening of his heart. Your smile always seems so genuine. How can somebody like you adore him so much?
.
Blue light illuminates your living room. From the kitchen, you groan as you make your way to the television. Can he stop bothering you at this hour? All you wanted to do was get some damn water, but of course, as always, he's monitoring you.
Words pop up on the screen as you approach it. You rub your eyes, the brightness overwhelming. You reach for your coffee table.
GO TO SLEEP
With the sudden click of the remote, you smile as the screen goes black. One, two, three... it lights up again.
DON'T TRY
Again, the screen goes black. One... again, a bright blue illuminates you.
[Y/N]. The television shakes.
You snicker at him, finally sitting on the floor and putting the remove down. On the other side of that screen, Vox sits on his swivel chair, gazing up at you, your frame taking up multiple monitors. Your eyes look below where his point of view is.
"It's late," you sign, and the light makes your hands shine in the darkness. "Dim it a little."
He listens; his small act of consideration makes you melt. Your eyes soften immensely. Internally, he begs you to stop looking at him like that; it's embarrassing how good it makes him feel.
The television is still a blinding blue as you go from the living room to the bedroom; he follows you per any screen by your side. Worst of all, a flat-screen faces your bed, which was mandatory.
"Goodnight, Vox." You sign while putting your face up to the screen.
You turn this TV off, and to your delight, it stays off.
.
With a yawn, you stretch your morning aches away and lean your head against the table of your vanity. You get a few seconds of shut-eye before popping back up. Vox is watching; if he notices you're tired, he will try to be domestic and nap with you regardless of how much work you must do today. So you rub away your sleepy eyes and massage the tension in your jaw. Putting on your hearing aid is first on your daily to-do list; you'd like to hear if he pops up on your television and decides to update you on his morning. Sometimes, he gets so impatient. Next, while picking up your moisturizer, you try not to shiver at the coldness once it touches your fingers.
You wish yourself a good morning before rubbing it in.
At the same time of day, Vox was already up and doing his rounds, making sure his employees were getting work done. He gets antsy between when you wake up, and you get to the tower. Every morning once he sees you entering the elevator, he'll wait on the other side to welcome you in with a kiss to the forehead.
Vox checks his watch. It shows his favorite things: your vitals, location, and pretty little face whenever you dial him.
You've finally left your place, thank goodness. Pacing aimlessly has never looked good on him.
.
He stands by his window, looking down at the streets below, watching you approach. You're wearing your usual uniform, one that he picked out just for you; it consists of the same red and blue stripes he has on his everyday suit. It makes you an eyesore in the everyday crowd.
If you didn't know any better, you'd lift your head to see if you could spot him among the many stories. The building is beautiful, overpowering. The V tower's magnificent brightness outshines the rest of the V district. The constant noise of people always has you walking with your hearing aid turned as low as it can go without turning off.
With the pink light reflecting off your face, you look both ways before crossing the street, a bright smile on your face, stepping onto the asphalt before a hand grabs your wrist.
Vox furrows his brow at the sight.
You turn your head and see a friendly reporter and a cameraman, the camera not yet rolling. Your pupils flicker between them.
"Hello!" She smiles, removing her hand. With caution, you fully face her, stepping back onto the sidewalk. The 'professional' persona you've been forced to practice is finally coming to fruition.
"Hello! I'm Deaf; I don't think I'd be able to do an interview."
She flicks her hand and rolls her eyes in the most friendly way possible. "Not a problem," she signs, moving the microphone vibrantly, "I can work this out, no problem!"
You widen your eyes in a wowwwww, oh my god, that's perfect... "Oh, what a kind woman you are!"
Vox? You beg internally. Baby? Save me.
Up high, he doesn't remove his eyes from you. With the use of sign language, he can't listen in, and he can't tell whether he needs to intervene or not. There's nothing wrong with going to check, right? Or will he seem possessive, or scared? He doesn't want people to think he doesn't want you to talk to anyone. It's good that you get to sign to someone other than him and Velvette, right?
The camera starts rolling, and you square your shoulders, adjusting your sleeves for more mobility. The news reporter throws the microphone at the cameraman, who does not catch it but ignores it as she shows off her brightest smile.
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I have the sweetest person in hell with me, [y/n]! Tell me, how long have you two been together?"
Of course, the news has been recognizing you recently. You've been seen countless times adjusting Vox's tie (he purposely fucks it up so that you'll step close to him) as well as wrapping your arm around his and pinching the corner of his screen endearingly before you give him a babying compliment. Many people have taken pictures and edited hearts around you two. People are obsessed with how "heavenly" your relationship is.
"Oh, many months now!" You nod to yourself, trying to stop your eyes from shining with admiration. You always get so soft when you think about him; it's one of the things people notice. She looks at him as if he's her entire world.
"Beautiful!" The reporter puffs out her bottom lip innocently. "I'm sure you make that man very happy."
What do you even say to that? I hope so.
"The happiest."
"Now," she doesn't hesitate to change the topic. "Are there any challenges you two face about your... differences?"
Your eyebrows raise before furrowing in confusion. Differences? At first, you think she means his television head, but when she notices you pause, she rudely clarifies. "I mean, with your lack of hearing, you know? Don't you find it a little embarrassing?"
You lean your body away from her. "What are you saying?"
The shock of the tonal shift has you freezing in place. The reporter looks at the camera, her eyes squinting with sadistic amusement. Her fingers twitch as she lifts her arm, not even looking at you before plucking the hearing aid from your ears. She crushes it in her hand.
At first, you grab your ear, pressing your hand to it in disbelief. Your face contorts, your shoulders dropping as you try to step away. Why couldn't you see this coming? And on television—is that where this is airing? The air around you goes quiet, the sensation of spatial awareness fading a bit as you stumble back, your hand still grasping your ear. The watch on your wrist hits your cheek, and without a second thought, you tap on the screen repeatedly. The next thing that popped into your head: her bravery is the most surprising.
With a brief fall of light, Vox stands where the lady once was. You eye him with uncertainty, a look you have never given him. He faces the cameraman, not looking your way. Your eyes go up and down his body; his stance is tense, his arms are folded behind his back, and his fingers sparking with small glimmers of electricity.
You see that lying behind him is the woman, body entirely limp, smoke coming from her mouth, and her eyes looking stuck open.
He speaks to the camera, pointing his finger at it, staring intensely into the shaking, blinking red light. Your hands link around his bicep. Composure, you remind yourself. You turn to the camera with a weary smile and lean your head against him.
.
"That'll never happen again." He stares at himself in the mirror. His dressers and tables are filled with claw marks from his previous meltdowns.
You just sit on his bed, crossing your legs uncomfortably, watching him as he goes back and forth between signing to you and mumbling to himself. You haven't said a word. You just keep your eyes on him.
He protected you in the way he knew best. He wanted nothing more than to put his hands on the sides of her head and crush her skull. It would stain his suit, awful. Even worse, your suit would have been ruined, too.
Should he force you to move into the tower? He's always wanted to. The commute would be no more, and you'd be safe from the outside.
Should he prevent you from leaving at all without him? No, that might be too much, but his entire body craves to keep you secure and protected.
He won't ask you what you want. He knows there's a chance you would just coddle him and tell him it's okay. There's no reality where he will do nothing; he must devise his own plan. But first (actually, secondly, after getting his anger out on his furniture), he wants to make sure his sweetheart is okay.
Once he calmed down and sat next to you, rubbing your thigh, he watched as you scrolled through social media, looking at the hundreds of people laughing and reposting the event. He shuts off your phone, grabs it, and tosses it across the room. You roll your eyes helplessly before he lifts his hands and signs to you.
"I will track everyone down and punish them severely, baby. No one will ever touch you again, or else they will the next flashing headline."
"I know, baby," you wrap your arms around his chest and lean into him, rubbing your cheek against the smoothness of his overcoat.
You hum against him, finding it in yourself to smile softly. Protector, protector, protector. You run those words through your head; they're comforting to their own extent. Suppose he ends up locking you inside the tower. In that case, it's better than him leaving you entirely over this (which, obviously, he'd never actually do). Spending every morning and night with him wouldn't be wrong. Everything happens for a reason.
He leans back onto the bed, his feet dangling off as you curl into his side.
Before resting completely, you use a hand to sign into his chest. "Everything will be fine."
Your coddling, though annoying, provides the most relaxing warmth to his body. He groans, wrapping an arm lazily around you, feeling the usual butterflies in his stomach as you press a small kiss to his collarbone.
.
.
.
Velvette
♥ word count: 1.6k
♥ warnings: reader speaks, part scene, getting harassed by a man, vox is in this too
♥ a/n: i completely headcanon that velvette took an asl class in highschool when she was alive, i have no idea how velvette usually acts in fanfiction so this is MY velvette now
Velvette found you, such a pretty thing, in your little corner of the internet, making content for your little community. That little corner of yours is where you told the news and interpreted a lot of banter from the overlords. Your channel was the perfect mix of education and drama, all for the Deaf community in Hell.
You were, as Velvette described, a tea channel.
She invited you to the V tower to show you around. The three V's introduced themselves to you in their own way, offering you a job. The bossman, ever so gentlemanly and charming, didn't let Valentino try and make sex motions to you for longer than necessary. And before Velvette forced Vox to scurry off, she forced him to snap a few pics of you posing with her as a faux collab.
You weren't stupid. You knew Velvette only wanted your attention to spread whatever brand she endeavored to popularize. But this might be a golden opportunity. You'd learn the behind-the-scenes from three different overlords, and the content you can produce will gather insane traction.
.
Velvette is just so sweet; the way she showed her care for you was just through gift-giving.
She loved putting together gift boxes for you, similar to the sorority kind. The boxes went from cute little baskets to a cardboard box resembling a PR send. These would always be set on your desk with a bit of note from her, each time she'd signed off her name with a heart.
Jackets, shoes, candies, jewelry, pens, everything. The gifts are versatile with familiar themes of hearts. Every day was like Valentine's Day when she was 'courting' you (did she even realize she was?).
She made you bags: totes, crossbody bags, clutches, phone pouches, coin purses, anything she thought you would need with an array of colors to match any outfit. She put in hair clips and pocket mirrors, cozy slippers and fancy journals.
She even got you two matching bracelets.
You love the smirk she wears whenever she notices you adorning anything she's given to you. Damn right, she thinks, I knew it would look good.
The most enormous box she'd ever given you was the day before one of her fashion shows. Inside were glorious clothes from her collection, all for you to pick out and wear. She really loved her stripes.
You put your hearing aid on, smiling at yourself in the mirror as you watch the charm she made you glisten in the light. With your bracelet ornamenting your wrist, you pat down your stripped outfit before taking a deep breath.
.
Your entrance reeks of reluctance. The temptation to retreat back to your room is unbearable. Seeing Velvette will definitely lift your mood; where is she? Surely, she'd be the highlight of the room, but amongst all the women with their eccentric colors and clothing shapes, you can't find your eye drawing to her anywhere.
The sounds of the party blend together in a nasty concoction; you can't help but turn your hearing aids off. The sound is similar to what it's like being outside in a heavy storm; the wind, the pouring rain, the blur and whine of the hearing aids. And instead of lingering by the double doors, you push into the crowd. You're the least recognizable in the crowd of celebrities, but it doesn't stop people from moving out of the way when you try to wiggle through. You're wearing stripes, her stripes. You're either bold or very special to her; they don't want to intervene.
But your stripes also get some people to stare at you longer than they would have otherwise. Across the room, in front of you, you notice a tall, almost shirtless model coming your way, directly staring at you. You break the quick eye contact before squeezing through a cluster of girls taking selfies. They won't let you through, grimacing but not laying any hands on you. When you turn to go the other way, the man is behind you, holding out his hand, waiting for you to put your hand in his.
You click on your hearing aid and scroll up. "What did you say?" You ask verbally, clearing your throat a bit.
His eyes bounce from yours to your hand, looking at what you're touching. His head tilts in interest. You don't like the sight of his smile.
"Oh wow." He says.
Immediately, "Yeah, no," Velvette puts her hands on your shoulders and tries to push you away. "I swear, don't even look at him, he's fucking insane."
He speaks over her, but you can't process his words over how close Velvette's lips are to your ear. Her warm breath sends goosebumps down your arms, and your spine straightens. This only makes her hum in amusement.
After turning and growling at him, she effortlessly maneuvers you away. Eyes watch you even closer now as she touches you. You let her guide you throughout the room with not a clue as to where she's leading you, if anywhere. But eventually, you two end up in front of a mirror the size of a wall.
She stares at you through the mirror. "Look at you," she signs, "extravagant as ever, darling."
"Thanks to you."
"Obviously." And she bumps her hip into yours. You laugh, mimicking the motion back.
You had ditched your initial motive of getting close to the V's to gain more information about them. They were fine people to hang out with, making you laugh and feel involved. Velvette gave you special attention that nobody in your afterlife has ever given. Her lipstick left stains on your cheek whenever she kissed you, and she made an 'appointment' in her schedule once a week to paint your nails the same black color as hers.
The afternoon went by quickly; you spent time clapping and watching models show off their garb. Velvette is a true talent.
But something ruined your evening. The air hummed with laughter and the rhythmic beat of music. Velvette had been whisked away by the other V's to overlook the crowd and count the people who had attended. Among the colorful crowd stood a familiar figure whose eyes sparkled with mischief. Different from last time, you don't notice when he starts to approach again.
"You," he coos, placing his hand under your chin. You must stare at his lips to comprehend his words over the music, an awful innuendo you wish you could have avoided. He leaned in closer to you, and in return, you leaned back. Valentino had told you a bunch of times to not worry if someone puts their hands on you, that it's a typical formality in Hell. You would always roll your eyes at him, never expecting a stranger to grab you like this.
You were mentally preparing yourself to dodge a kiss. But then, daringly, he leaned in and gently plucked the hearing aid from behind your ear, holding it aloft like a trophy. Fear flickered across your face, your hand instinctively reaching for it, but he pulled it away. The charm Velvette gave you dangles like a jewel.
"Don't," you say with desperation. He puts a finger in front of your face and waves it back and forth. He coos, using that hand to grab your face as if you were the most adorable thing he's ever seen.
Your eyes are locked on the charm, and it's brash jolts. You almost beg for him to just give you the charm back.
In the middle of a conversation with Vox, Velvette raises an eyebrow; shocked and pissed, she glared at whoever had torn off your hearing aid. She mumbles, "I'd tear their hearing aid off and break it."
Before she can move closer to you, Vox puts his hand in front of her while watching the interaction. "Think before acting, Velvette."
Her frustration turns into anger as she pushes his hand away. He lets her run off; he holds a hard stare as her pink hair bobs through the crowd.
Your eyes are stuck wide with shock, and a million things run through your head, all relating to the appropriate situational response.
True to your casual self, you were having a hard time not just jamming your hand in his eyes and kicking his shins. Would you make Velvette mad? Vox?--Would that result in you being removed from the V Tower? It's all so complicated. Though you were panicking over a 'quick' decision, you and the man stayed in that position for a few seconds. He stayed laughing, dropping the hearing aid and stomping on it.
At almost the same time, Velvette threw a glass from someone's hand at the man, perfectly aimed, hitting him in the face. She lets out a small "nice!" before rushing to you.
Her hand runs down your face, and she holds you tenderly, not turning to face Vox as he puts himself between her and the man. Your eyes bounce around the entire room. Will you ever get a break from being at the center of attention?
"We're leaving. Now." she signs in a single motion so quick that it makes you smile, relieving some of the stress that's been making your head pound. She's able to sign so naturally now.
The crowd splits into two.
Behind the both of you, Vox is declaring an end to the event, apologizing to the people for the inconvenience. Velvette keeps muttering about him under her breath; you can see her lips moving and her face grimacing.
.
She has beads in front of her, a bunch of small charms with string. She signs, looking up at you. "I should have killed him."
You just watch her craft another charm, laying on her bed and kicking your feet. "That would have been funny."
She scoffs and smiles, her painted lips turning upwards. Her fingers trace over the beads, deciding which one to pick up. She wants to make it different than the last one, but what should it look like? She picks up a pink heart with a slight hum before sliding it down onto the string. She whispers to herself, perfect.
.
.
.
Valentino
♥ word count: 1.7k
♥ note: reader is a vodka drinker, i'm obsessed with writing a loving valentino, reader doesn't talk very much and prefers sign, sexually suggestive things happening but it's not nsfw, kinda written like ass, drugs mentioned but no named just symptoms, takes place on porn set, valentino kills someone, blood description
Every time you step into the studio, you're hit by the smell of sex, mostly the sweetened stench of that strawberry lube he loves so much. Visiting his work is not usually something you do often, but he's seem to be so busy lately that you can't help but bring him a drink, the most beautiful drink in hell: vanilla vodka. You can already see him licking him lips.
Strawberry lube, so prominent in your nose.
His legs are crossed and he stares at the scene in front of him, his sunglasses hiding whatever his emotions are, but his lips are still in a prominent scowl.
Though, when he sees you, his expression changes drastically. He stands with so much excitement that the actors stop to see what he's reacting to. All eyes are on you, you shy away from the attention a bit but Val doesn't seem to notice, else care.
"Amor mío!" One of his hands signs, running down his cheek while his bottom two motions for a hug.
Before you can initiate a hug, he wraps his arms around you and brings you into his chest, trapping your arms in. He's warm, vibrantly so, it's hard not to melt against him. You couldn't be surprised if you let out a small moan at the contact. Oh, how I've missed you so much.
He pulls away quicker than you'd like and takes the bottle from your hand, holding it up close to his face so he can examine it. "Burnett's, oh you shouldn't have!"
He hesitates, torn between his responsibilities and the irresistible allure of having a drink with the person he was enamored with. He's not so easy to whisk away from work, therefore (of course), you seem to be the only person who he is at every beck and call.
You smile softly, "I knew you'd like it."
With a laugh, he takes your hand and spins you, his free hands popping open the bottle, ready to embark on whatever journey you had in store.
He turns and addresses his employees, granting them a small break before turning to you with his sharp smile.
And together, you slip away from the set, leaving behind the hustle and bustle of the studio for a simple moment of peace and luxury. Walls blazed with hues of pink and blue, you both find yourselves nestled on the fluffy couch in a lounge, a wineglass in your hand while he chugs from the bottle.
"You've been so busy." You sign. You switch the wineglass into your non dominant hand to avoid spilling any of the contents. Val holds the bottle with his bottom set of hands while signing with his top ones (he was originally going to do it the other way around).
“I know, princesa,” one of his hands comes up and squeezes your cheek. “Business calls, I cannot help myself.”
“Which is why I came to visit.”
The two of you clink glass upon glass before taking a drink. He’s trying not to finish the drink before you, he’s making sure to take his time. He doesn’t want you to leave as much as he doesn’t want to rush the break. His eyes go over your entire form and take you in, there feels like an eternity since he saw you last. Why do you have so much patience for someone like him? It’s astonishing. Surely someone as beautiful as you could find someone sweeter than her. But he’s grateful to have you, he’s mildly addicted to that internal battle of whether he wants to cherish you or own you (perhaps he can do both? Something he’s never done before).
“What?” You ask.
“Hm?” His fingers pinch together in the casual way of signing.
“You’re staring at me.”
“I can’t resist.”
“What were you thinking about?” You sign and lean forward, giving him bright eyes. Your gaze swallows him, moth to a flame.
He matches your body language, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, amor mío.”
When he tries to grab your hand, you pull away. “You're acting as if you're wine drunk.” You sign. You have a sappy smile as you put your glass to your lips.
“Never,” he wiggles his fingers as he signs. You eye him carefully, debating asking if he's kept his favorite gun on him. There's nothing worse than a drunk Valentino.
After the wine break, he has to go back to work. He feels himself getting irritated as he walks back, why can't he just continue spending the day with you? Is it worth sending everybody home? No, he has a job to do, and he needs to complete it before relaxation. But maybe he'll consider taking breaks (his least favorite word) to spend time with you.
You follow, both of your hands holding his, clinging onto him like a child.
Everybody was still in the studio, waiting for his return, not daring to leave in fear of him coming back. Actors were talking to each other casually, away from the camera, it built a strange sense of community for you. They're so nice to each other off-camera.
He drags you to his chair still holding your hand as he sits in it.
Drinking with you had been a much-needed respite from these people. He made a mental note to gift you more wine.
You remove your hands from his and smile. “Get back to work, baby.”
Pearly white, sharp teeth show through his large smile. He presses his lips against each of your knuckles while his eyes skin over all of his actors, counting them. He makes eye contact with one particular one, a woman. They stare at each other for more than a second. She's scowling at him and he squints his eyes at her. The fuck is your problem?
She usually looks at him with sultry looks, but now there's a sharpness to them.
But his eyes peel away from her and go back to you, he leans forward and presses a slow kiss to your forehead. He signs low, almost as if he's whispering a secret. "I'll come see you after."
You smile and start turning away. "Good."
Upon noticing your departure, the actors and crew start returning to their places, keeping an eye on Valentino and any commands he might make. Their eyes are always on him, worried to test his anger. But not all the actors were worried about testing his anger.
"Hey," an actress grabs your hand before you could reach the door and you turn to her. She talks, her voice making your hearing aids buzz, "Are you guys like, dating? Are you dating the Valentino? Like, literally one of the V's."
Her words all bunch into one. You blink, taking time to think about both what she could be asking and the connotation behind it. "Yes?" It sounds more like a question than an answer. Is that the correct response?
She hums and nods, her eyes wide in amazement. Her pupils are large. Her cheeks are hollow and she has strong eyebags. With a distant sound from Val, him talking to the crew, she looks back at him before turning to you. "I mean like, why? Why would he want you?"
Oh no. You try to move away but she just follows you, stepping in front of you closer. It's like being cornered, being trapped in an almost unavoidable situation.
"Why wouldn't he?" You test with a squint of your eyes.
She just smiles at you. "Uhm," and her arm reaches over, grabbing the hearing aid from your ear, pinching it between her claws, "Obviously this."
You reach for it but she pulls it away from you, trying not to laugh.
So you do what you know is the best solution, you call his name, practically screaming it. "Val!"
At the sound of you using your voice he whips his head around. The air goes still, you can tell from the way she pauses. Her pause is only for a second, she reeks of hesitance and sudden worry. She looks at the hearing aid in her hand as if she's finally realizing what she had done and what was about to happen.
Before she can say another word, her entire body stiffs, her eyes widen before her pupils roll back. And then she's on the floor, almost falling onto you.
You wipe blood from your cheek and groan.
Val stares at you, his expression unreadable. In his hand is his jeweled gun. He pauses for a moment to take a long drag of his cigarette, letting out a cloud of red smoke before he looks at his gun with a toothy smile until he tucks it back into his belt.
He starts to approach you and for a second you're scared, it was a primal feeling. He walked like a king.
All you can do is watch him, frozen in place.
The first thing he does when he reaches you is bend in front of her body, plucking the hearing aid from her hand. It's bloody, the liquid drips from it as he lifts it up. He wipes some of it off on his shirt before handing it to you. He drops it into your open hands.
He speaks, knowing you'd have a hard time understanding. "Laying her slutty hands on my angel..."
You lean into his touch when he caresses your face. His eyes gaze at you, softening, his smile widening at how soft your eyes look. You're his greatest treasure. He gets off immensely from protecting you, he would ravish you to death in this moment if he could. Valentinos eyes drift down at the body and his pupils narrows as he glares at the dead woman. He's going to have to clean this up. Her blood is getting every where.
One of his thumbs rub against your cheek, touching the bloody smear. It stains your skin in a delectable way. So perfect.
He melts when he sees your soft eyes slowly start to match the mischievous smile growing on your face. He protected you and he was open about being dithered over her behavior, he didn't laugh at it or tease you about it. You don't doubt for an instant that he's the man of your dreams. He killed someone for you in an instant.
When you take his thumb into your mouth, sucking the blood, his spine straightens. He pulls away immediately and turns around, yelling at the his workers that filming will be cut short today.
He just can't wait any longer to spend some lovely time with you.
#hazbin hotel#vox x reader#x reader#deaf community#x deaf reader#x deaf s/o#velvette x reader#valentino x reader#velvette hazbin hotel#valentino hazbin hotel
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miguel o'hara stars in... 'DOMESTIC BLISS' (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)
a/n~ i physically cannot write a fic about my favs w/o getting horny mid way through sorry ;( i just want miguel to wrap me up and brush my hair and hold me tight---- NNNNNNNNNNH (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
summary; miguel really likes your thighs…and how his cock looks between them.
wc; 700+
pairings; miguel o'hara x fem!reader
cw; SMUT!!, fluff, miguel and reader being cutesy, consensual somnophilia, thigh-fuckin, lil bit of blood, cummin inside, basically a breeding kink cause i said so, softdom! miguel, miguel being pussy whipped, sleepy sex, cumplay?, n e ways...not proofread - is one in the mornin
miguel loved nights like this. both of you wrapped up in warm, fluffy robes, and matching slippers - just enjoying each other’s company.
“babe, grab my headband for me please?”
walking over to where you were in the bathroom, he looks at your beautiful face through the mirror, sliding the cute headband on your head. “here, my love.” he trails a hand down your arm, wrapping it around your waist and he pulls you closer into him, your body pressed tightly against his rock solid chest. he doesn’t loosen his grip on you as you lean forward to wash your face, instead gripping your hips to hold you steady.
he still doesn’t let go of you when you walk over to your shared bed, tucking you under the covers and bringing you as close as he could to him. his face rested in the crook of your neck, lips pressing soft kisses against your warm skin. he really was the luckiest man in the world, blessed with this angel in front of him. his hands gently traced the curves of your body, the touch meant to be soothing but it was anything but for the throbbing he felt under the sheets.
he could hear you snoring quietly, the subtle rise and fall of your chest, the slenderness of your collarbones that were faintly littered with love bites. everything about you was just so perfect. especially those thighs of yours. those sexy, juicy, thighs - pressing against his. palming at your ass, he pulls you closer, if that was even possible - fingers moving to dip into your panti- oh, fuck, you weren’t wearing any.
this new revelation led to him fucking his thick cock through the tightness of your thighs, nudging your little clit with every thrust. he whimpers, actually whimpers, at the feeling, a sound he’d take to the grave - if you were awake right now, you would not let him live that down. but that didn’t matter right now, not when he was so close to painting those pretty thighs with his cum. or actually, why waste it? maybe he should just cum inside of you. it would save cleaning up in the morning, plus - you smelt so delicious after your shower, it’d be a shame to wash away that scent and his cum.
he angles his hips upwards, one hand on yours waist and the other keeping your head up as you sleep - the leaky tip of his cock pressing against your tight pussy. he doesn’t want to disturb your sleep, especially since you’re so cute when you sleep, so he only pushes the tip in - a faint pop! echoing through the room as he slips inside of you. “fuck, baby, s-such a tight pussy - isn’t she? looks like ‘m gonna have to stretch her out some more, hm?” soft whispers fall upon deaf ears, chuckling silently to himself as the sounds of your snoring get louder.
the constant suctioning on his tip was driving him mad, brows furrowed tightly as he threw his head back against the plush pillows. biting his lips so hard he draws blood, the ruby liquid running down his neck as he stares down at his cock disappearing between your thighs - thighs that we’re starting to…move? you seemed to be regaining some sort of consciousness, small breathy moans left your plump lips, eyes blinking open as you turned to look at him.
he was so caught up in your pussy, he didn’t even register your hand coming to push him deeper into your quivering cunt. your soft hand wrapping around him set him off, his hot, sticky, cum shooting straight against your womb as you take him all the way to the base. the other hand rests on his lower stomach running along the trail of hair that you love oh, so much - fucking yourself on his cock whilst he shoots white ropes along your walls.
“p-princess- mmph, shit- didn’t…i didn’t mean to wake you.” he really means that, he truly didn’t want to ruin your beauty sleep - but he couldn’t help but rub tight, slow, circles on your sticky clit, speaking lowly into your ear. “go back to sleep, beautiful, papí will take care of you, ‘kay?”
i mean shit, back to sleep we go!
-ONE CHANCE, JST ONE CHANCE MIGUEL
#miguel smut#miguel x reader#miguel ohara#miguel o'hara#astv miguel#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara headcanons#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderverse#miguel o'hara x y/n#cheonstapes#cheonstapes films!🪷
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B O D I E S - A Collection of Pedro Boy & Real Body Reader One Shots - Masterlist
A collection of softly smutty Pedro Boy stories, featuring real bodies and real love... 🧡
Adoration - Joel Miller - Cancer/Masectomy
Reverence - Ezra - Limb Loss
Devotion - Dieter Bravo - Curvy/fuller Body
Homage - Javi Gutierrez - Blindness
Veneration - Frankie Morales - Deafness
Adulation - Marcus Pike - Alopecia
Respect - Dave York - Wheelchair User/MS
Devoutness - Marcus Moreno - Mature 60+
Glorification - Jack Daniels - Pregnancy
Exaltation - Javier Peña - Scarring/Burns
Sanctification - Joel Miller - Vaginismus
Benediction - Frankie Morales - Scoliosis
Acclamation - Marcus Pike - Walking Aid
Piety - Dieter Bravo - Paraplegia
Obeisance - Joel Miller - Fibromyalgia
🖤
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller#javier peña#dieter bravo#frankie morales#ezra prospect#dave york#marcus pike#javier gutierrez#marcus moreno#real bodies#inclusivity#diversity#every body is beautiful#jett's writing
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hi! I was wondering how the bats would be with a reader who is disabled or has prosthetics? they're all just very protective of people they care about since...everything, and how maybe that could start to feel sufacating at some point? Or something, idk dude
(also-the way you write is realy cute and sweet for all of them, makes them feel a lot less heavy when they have someone to hold them <33)
Masterlist
Batboys with a Disabled S/O
Dick Grayson [Fully Deaf]
A gentle touch on your shoulder prompts you to slowly turn around, a smile stretching across your face when you realise your boyfriend's back from work.
You pull him into your arms, threading your fingers through his hair. Pulling away reluctantly, you give him a kiss on the tip of his nose.
But he's not smiling; only a sad smile that makes you tilt your head in a silent question.
Don't worry about it, he signs. Have a good day?
You nod, though your frown remains when he moves to the kitchen, always adamant that he cooks whenever he's home. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, frowning at the caller ID and puts the phone on speaker as he begins cooking.
Dick gets more and more angry as the conversation goes on, his hands waving wildly around the small kitchen, only stopping to return to the cooking.
Finally, he hangs up. You tap him on the shoulder and he turns, watching as you sign;
Who was that?
Dick's shoulders raise and drop. A case I'm working on. I'll figure it out.
You nod slowly, satisfied with his response.
Jason Todd [Fully Blind]
Mornings with Jason always start like this. They always start with you gently running your fingers across his face, mapping it out and imagining it in your head. Over his nose, his lips, his stubble.
"Did you clean the apartment?" you ask, lying on top of him as your guide dog sits next to you on the mattress. "I almost knocked one of your guns off the counter yesterday."
"I did," he murmurs. You rest your fingers on his lips and feel that they're stretched into a smile. "I'm sorry for letting it get messy."
"That's okay," you reply quietly, "Ollie picked it up before it hit the floor."
Ollie, your guide dog, makes a huffing sound beside you, causing you both to chuckle.
"Good boy," Jason says proudly, feeling him shift underneath you, mostly likely to pat Ollie.
"You're both good. Too good, maybe."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jason asks.
"Hmm."
Tim Drake [Classical Ehlers-Danlos syndrome]
"Love? Can we go for a camping trip on the weekend with my friends?"
Tim turns his head slowly as he sits in his study chair. He taps the pen he's holding against his lips. "What happens if you get exhausted?"
"We can go back to the tent and rest."
"You can get bruises. A lot of bruises," he frowns, gesturing for you to walk to him. You comply.
"That's fine, they're just bruises," you respond, sitting on his lap. He begins gently drawing shapes on the bare skin of your thighs.
"You could dislocate something," he says to you, quieter now.
"You know how to put it back. You do it for me all the time."
Tim's brow furrows at the reminder of having to put back in dislocated joints more often than he'd like. "Fine. But if you even start to get a little tired, you tell me. Okay?"
You rest your forehead against his and murmur, "Okay."
Damian Wayne [Prosthetic Arm]
"I'll take those—"
"Damian, I love you, but I can put shopping bags into the car just fine." This and many similar conversations have been going on practically since the start of your relationship. And while you do find it endearing that he cares, sometimes you just want him to treat you like you didn't lose your right arm in an accident.
The man scowls. "But—"
"I'm not going to hurt myself, really."
He watches you warily, weighing the outcomes of the situation. "Fine. Only the lighter ones."
You suppose it's better than not being able to do any of them. Still, he watches you like a hawk as you put the lighter ones in the back of the car he bought you (you protested but that man has the most selective hearing).
He closes the trunk/boot after the bags are inside.
"Can I drive?" you ask, hoping you'll get luck there too.
"No."
"I know how."
"No."
#batfamily x reader#damian wayne x reader#batfam#jason todd x reader#dick grayson x reader#tim drake x reader
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Slashers! HC S/O nearly killed by a victim
Slashers!Sinclair brothers x gn!reader
Includes Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair
Requested? Yes
Warnings: max angst, lots of self deprecating thoughts from the slashers, blood, mentions of gore, lots of violence, happy ending (you survive!)
Bo Sinclair
You weren’t supposed to be at the house, Bo was sure you were out getting groceries, you told him you were
You placed the several brown bags you could carry from the pickup onto the kitchen counter, used to the silence that filled the dimly lit home
Turning to make your way back outside, you froze in your spot when merely a few yards away stood a man, face twisted in agony, blood covering the lower portion of his body, it looked like he’d been stabbed by Vincent’s sheers, so why was he upstairs?
“You’re one of them”
The man seemed to only grow in size from the sheer mass of his clear anger, chest puffing to reveal a stutter in his breath, as if he was using borrowed time
You weren’t sure if saying anything would help, you were bringing in groceries, of course you were one of them, there was no way to free yourself from this situation
Glancing over at the knife block, wide eyes switched back to the man who had seen the subtle movement, brows furrowing, and then he charged
“They killed my girlfriend!”
The stranger snarled as he gained on you, hands reaching out to grab your arm, your neck, whenever he could reach in his rage fueled attack
Slipping on your heel to get to the knives, the recently mopped floor proved to be a disadvantage, only giving the man a better angle to grab the collar of the back of your shirt, pulling it back, before slamming you into one of the counters
The impact against your stomach wasn’t pleasant, you could feel the bruise already forming as you were dragged back, grabbing anything you could as pitiful noises left your lips
Throwing the salt and pepper shakers, a clean plate, anything at him you could get your hands on, nothing seemed to faze him as you threw you against the adjacent cabinets
Forehead slamming into the sharp edge of wood, red filled your already blurring vision, your weak yelp for anyone nearby that could help fell deaf on the empty corridors of the house, where the hell were the guys?
“You sick bitch, you’re all sick”
The man spat in your face, spit hitting your cheek as he did so, then he was once again lifting you from where he’d tossed you like a rag doll, this time letting your body fall rather limply to the tiled floor
“You’ll get what’s coming to you, if it’s the last thing I do”
You could hear the slight motion of the man reaching over your body, plucking a knife from the block a few feet away and kneeling over your aching body
His legs were at either side of your hips, arms raised high as he didn’t think twice before lowering the weapon
A shout echoed from the near distance, heavy footsteps on the wooden floor, in a last ditch effort with all the remaining strength to could muster, you lifted a knee to the mans crotch, resulting in a deep howl of pain, and a burning sensation as the knife landed deep in your shoulder
Then the man was off of you, ripped from your body by someone far stronger, the shouting picked up again, the enraged, bellowing noises bouncing off the walls as you figured the escaped victim was being rightfully dealt with
Right as the man’s shadow was gone, another more broad figure appeared over you, this time at the side of your injured body.
“Oh baby, oh fuck,” It was Bo’s voice, his tones drawl making your heart flutter, or was that the stab wound? It felt as if the room was spinning in its axis, turned upside down and steeping your body in darkness, “Shit, I thought ya were outta the house.”
Vincent was hovering in the distance, gauging the wound from the distance he stood before rushing off the gather the proper items to best help you. Bo was at a loss, wanting to lean down while also warning himself that his touch would only cause more pain. Why were you home? Why didn’t he check the house first? Why did he just assume you would be out for hours? This was his fault, he left you vulnerable and alone, in a place he knew could bs unsafe when they brought, “guests”, home. Your weak whine of his name drove his stomach to lurch forward, bile trying to climb him throat, body hot to the touch with panic and his eyes swam with guilt.
“I’ve got ya now, nothin’ll hurt ya anymore,” Bo fell on his ass to get closer to you, lifting your upper body carefully before laying it steadily in his lap. Your pained wince at being moved to any extent shot right through the man’s heart, his body folding over yours slightly, almost as if trying to protect what was left of you from the outside world. Your delicate cries as blood seeped through your clothes only drew the man further from rationally, mind racing at what he would do to the dead body mere feet away when he was done tending to you, “Vincent! Get yur ass in here!”
“I’m here baby, don’t ya worry, I’ve got ya.”
Vincent Sinclair
You were never involved with the victims, as much as Vincent trusted you, he didn’t trust any stranger within a mile of Ambrose, the thought of someone full of fear or anger anywhere in your vicinity made his skin crawl beneath his usual wool sweaters
Luckily for the town over, there weren’t three deranged brothers causing havoc, in fact it was odd being in a populated area where no one even knew of Ambrose’s happenings, or the men beneath it
So when a van full of curious, college aged boys came strolling through the, “abandoned”, streets, you had made the choice to go out for the day, visit that nearby town where Vincent knew you would be safe for the most part
Which lead to the present, where you were calmly walking back to Ambrose along the two lane, quiet, wooded backroad, wicker basket in hand with various items you deemed interesting enough to take back
Although the snap of a branch caught your ear, a man no older than you stumbling along the path, if the splatters of blood along his body weren’t an indicator of where he’d left, the thick globs of wax painting his left arm did
“Miss? Fuck, help me!”
The man called to you, clearly desperate in his current predicament, there wasn’t much you could do, you didn’t have a cellphone, you’d already been walking for a half mile, what could you possibly be able to help him with?
“There’s these crazy guys that tried to kill me! We need to get away from here!”
Before you could even summon a response, the staggering stranger that had since gotten closer paused, face pursing, lips tight as a look of realization crossed his face
“Your face, there were drawings of your face in that basement”
“I don’t know what you mean, here, let’s-“
You didn’t get much of a sentence out before the man was pushing you to the ground, intentions clear as he kneeled above you, planting your lower body to the gravel side of the road before punching aimlessly at your face
“Please-“
“You’re with those sick bastards aren’t you? You must be fucked in the head too, after all the bodies I saw!”
The punches kept landing, your nose surely broken by the onslaught, blood draining down your jaw, by your ears, into your mouth
The heavy smell of iron palette-able as another swift hit was served to your mouth, bottom lip busting open with thick, red spilling out
The man just kept screaming in your face, spit flying as he did so, it was as if his rage fueled attack would never cease, maybe he hadn’t gotten hurt all that much and his adrenaline was through the roof
Either way it was as if the beating was only getting worse as the minutes ticked by, you felt lucky he didn’t have an actual weapon on his person
As if some kind of saving grace had heard you, the rumbling of what sounded like a familiar old pickup roared in the distance, getting louder by the second
Right as the shriek of tires echoed across the otherwise silent road, your tired eyelids fluttered shut, allowing the all consuming haze to take its place in your body
Some time later
“How the hell should I know when she’s gon’ wake up?” That voice was familiar, the low timbre of an accent you knew all too well. It was buzzing through your head, and although you were thankful to even be here to listen to it, there was one thing you wished was present as well.
“Hey, her eyes are opening,” And that’s when you heard the shuffling, heavy boots on a concrete floor, when Bo’s agitated voice once again striking your growing headache, “alright, alright! I’m goin’.”
An all too warm, fuzzy feeling filled your chest when Vincent’s head popped into view, hair tied back loosely with little bits of wax here and there. Although lumbering over you, his movements were cautious, slow and steady as you could make out his eyes scanning your form meticulously. It felt as though you were one of his pieces of artwork, carefully watched over to make sure you wouldn’t melt.
“Vince, are you okay?” Your whisper of a question caused the man’s head to drop into the crook of your neck, whether overwhelmed or still worried it just seemed he needed a moment to process all that had happened. It was only minutes ago you were still out cold, laying on one of his work tables as Bo stood with a disapproving look. Art supplies strewn, chairs overturned, even the most delicate wax sculptures he’d done were crumbled on the floor. The man hadn’t been able to contain the absolute ice that ran through his veins upon seeing Lester carrying your lifeless form into the house, especially considering he didn’t even know if you were still alive.
Large, rough hands shaking like a kitten, the man leaned back to run his fingers over the side of your injured face, the touch gentle, barely there. The soft tilt of his head told you he was fine, seemingly still stressing about your current state. As you became more aware of your surroundings, you realized one of Vincent’s wood sweaters covered a portion of your upper body, like a makeshift blanket. Fingers weakly knocking into his elbow, the masked man took notice and immediately intertwined them with his, palm warm against yours. His free hand reached up to caress your jaw, without words but as if to say,
‘You’re safe now.’
Lester Sinclair
Lester wasn’t ever particularly involved in the murders, in fact he felt his best work was cleaning up the eventual aftermath
That being said, you were usually by his side at all hours, both day and night, keeping him and Jonsey company
“Be right back darlin’”
Lester flashed a toothy grin in your direction, sitting on the hood of the trunk while he hoisted a large, dead dead over his shoulder
This had been majority of the day so far, you enjoying the shady sun while he hauled carcasses of roadkill over to the designated dump sight
“I’ll stay right here!”
You chuckle, watching the red dusting over his ears fade as he continued to walk further down the slope
Glancing down to where Jonsey was laying, you did a double take when the little lady had somewhere vanished, head whipping side to side, yes she was an independent dog but that doesn’t mean you didn’t worry sometimes
Barking in the distance cut through your immediate panic, somewhere off to the left in the densely wooded forest
“Jonsey?”
You called as you hopped off the cars hood, jogging towards the sounds origin as it only continued
It didn’t sound like her normal bark though, it was vicious, angry, maybe she’d run into a squirrel or other wild animal of some kind that had gotten her all up in action
“There you are girl!”
You exclaimed as your turn around the tree revealed the dog, facing away from you, as your eyes left the furry creature it landed on a man not much older than you, standing before you and Jonsey with a knife in hand
“Sorry about my dog, she can be overly cautious”
You tried to reason, deflecting from the chance he may know more than you hoped, and unfortunately his fist only clenched further around the blades handle, face pulled in a snarl
“Yeah, the same dog I saw in that auto shop, with that guy who killed my girlfriend”
“Listen, I don’t know what you’re here to do-“
Before you could even finish your statement he was already on you, knocking you back with a heavy hand before slashing towards your stomach
Thankfully you were able to dodge the first swing, although he wasn’t stopping anytime soon, in fact your fear only seemed to spur him on as he swung again, and again
Unfortunately he had backed you into a tree, another aim at your body immediately ripping through your (Lester’s) shirt, blood leaking from ripped skin, another across your forehead, red spilling into your waterline as your thunderous scream of Lester’s name left your quivering lips
“I didn’t kill your girlfriend”
“But you’re chummy with the bastard that did”
His final strike ended with him aiming down and up, the smooth surface of the knife gliding into your skin like butter, the sob it ripped from you was pitiful, as was the way you fell to your knees
Then a gunshot rang out
“Darlin’?” There stood Lester, rusty, old shotgun in hand that was still aimed at the now fallen body, lowering it too glance over at you in panic. His rushed footfall crunched leaves, his quick footing hit a root and nearly tripping him if his objective wasn’t so focused on. Dropping to your level, the man held his hands to where you were gripping your wrist.
“Show me, how bad is it?” The concern and fear tainting his voice was almost painful to hear, pulling your palms away to reveal a river of crimson. Hissing as he lifted the edge of the shirt you had stolen from him this morning, to reveal a bloody but shallow wound. It looked as if the guy had missed, only slicing at your side, not your gut as he most likely planned.
“Hurts,” you mumble as your body begins to try and lose consciousness, the adrenaline now leaving your system. Lester caught on, leaning you into him before lifting you against his slim body, careful to not press into any of your injuries, “Lester”.
“I know honey, I’ll get ya all patched up, don’t ya worry.” The man shouldered your weight, holding a tough facade despite the way his heart was slowly crumbling inside his chest cavity. If he made it one second later, you could’ve been gone forever. The thought felt like ice water poured over his head, sinking into his veins. Next time he would have to watch over you better, keep you safer. No, there wouldn’t be a next time, he would make sure no one could even attempt to get near you.
“Ain’t ever gonna let that happen again”
If y’all would like to see other parts of this either others slashers list their names in the comments or in my inbox!
As always requests are always open!
#slasher#slasher x reader#vincent sinclair#vincent sinclair x reader#bo sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#lester sinclair x reader#lester sinclair#house of wax#house of wax x reader#slashers x you#slashers x y/n
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