#for fucks sake this man does not pay child support
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my only thoughts when i was doing the grimm quest
#for fucks sake this man does not pay child support#i raise grimmchild as my own and what do i get???#i don't get child support#that's for sure#i died to the lantern guys several times#what did grimm do?#nothing#bro just showed up when his child was ready#at least pay child support#hk#hollow knight#hk grimm#grimm troupe#grimmchild
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Also, Nafessa is consistently working, and I saw that Violett has landed something. And I'm like girl... It's just so frustrating as a fan who has supported her Day 1. She's letting her talents go to waste for the sake of an irrelevant man to do what exactly? Play house? Become a step-mom to kids that don't fuck with her like that? Does she want to be a kept woman and never work again? What's the goal here...
We don’t even know how you can be a kept woman with an unemployed absentee dad that’s paying child support out the ass and probably has to maintain a second household because he doesn’t want to get a divorce and pay spousal support. Does he have money? Sure. But she has money too, money she’s actually made on her own doing a job she’s really good at. In other words she could do just fine on her own, and could be doing even better if she actually found good work. There is just no scenario involving him that seems like the right choice.
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One thing that’s worth asking people who go on about how much we need to “support” Ukraine is where does your “support” end, and in what form? Does it end when every man, woman, and child in Ukraine has been armed (as Mr. George Takei suggested) and told to go throw themselves against the Russian war machine so they can get EU membership some day? Does it end after every shitty little fascist paramilitary death squad that’s been folded into their military gets a corporate media puff piece and a couple million in weapons shipments from the West? Does it end when every minority group stuck in an active warzone is weaponized and politicized for the sake of running a PR campaign against the United States’ geopolitical rival? Does it end when Ukraine is turned into an annexed territory of Russia or Poland and/or a neo-colony of the United States paying off its lend-lease debt into the next century? Does it end when our brilliant fucking foreign policy guru political class sleepwalks us into nuclear midnight because they actually started believing their own bullshit about “democracy” growing along the lines of absolute US/NATO-aligned hegemony?
You people are ready to watch an entire country get swallowed into hell for the indefinite future because it just feels good to you and confirms your worldview. It’s a sports match against the team you’ve been told to hate by the worst people in existence. Spectating and cheering on destruction on a national scale. Fuck you.
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Men are disproportionately arrested in general. Or murdered. Or die in general.
What does it mean. What does it matter. There's hundreds of little topics everyone is discussing already that flood such sentences to the point there is no argument being made, just pointing out reality for the actual sake of doing so.
Women commit suicide far more than men, women are more likely to win in parental cases, women aren't arrested nearly as often.
Again, what does this do? We already have the mini topics being discussed, this is an amalgomation of everything that doesn't make you look smart.
I think that's what people need to realize. You're not smart for pointing out the obvious. You're not smart for mentioning it and running away. You're not smart when all you can do is point out flaws with no fixes.
So, I ask of you, what is the purpose, what is smart about it, and what does it accomplish, pointing out that all mass shootings have been by men.
Now don't misconstrue me here, I too see the statistic, and would like to be informed on why. Except I already am because since 2013 the internet has had a boner for discussing every topic into a political umbrella as possible.
So I know that Men have less mental healthcare, Men have less emotional resources, Men are belittled, mocked, and thrown away like trash for crying or showing anything other than masculine bravado. I know that Men are disproportionately arrested by police, I know that divorce is worse for Men. I've talked to men who's lives were upended by a false claim from a women and the court took her side until it became obvious it was a lie.
I've talked to men. Actually discussed and discourced with them. I actually know what a majority of men go through. Not just because it's been endlessly discussed since 2013, but because I and every possible male has lived it.
I don't hear about women losing their kids to an insane man who ends up killing them later after a court custody battle allowed the child to go with the obvious worst choice. I do hear about men in general getting their entire life upended over false claims of any variety. You know what else I hear about Men? Total lack of a support system.
Know what else I hear about Men? A constant struggle to not have the wrong perception of you, because that can mean your entire life.
Men have to pay alimony even in ridiculous circumstances. Men lose their kids more often than women.
So with all this said, that hardly scratches any surface, it's far closer to pointing at the moon, Why is it, that all the mass shootings this year, have been done by men?
I mean, it's not like our systems give a fuck about men. It's not like Men have any outlets. It's not like Men are allowed to emotionally process without a court of law calling it irrational when they mean unmanly. It's not like the economy is destroyed, and women have ample opportunities for housing and mental healthcare, friends that'll take em in. There's women only homeless shelters, for a reason yes, but it goes to show.
Is the problem men? Personally, not trying to "both sides" this shit, but personally, I don't think inherently Men are all shooters, murderers and pedophiles. I think, and stick with me here, this country is broken from culture to government, from social to independant, this country is fucked. And despite progress socially, men are still the breadwinners in a majority of families. They are also, culturally pressured to be successful, rich, leave a legacy, own property and capitol, etc etc.
Women aren't expected shit culturally but being birth machines, and as fucked up as that is, no woman is going on a killing spree because of it. It's simply no where near the same pressure as males have to deal with. That's not to be offensive or to put down women, obviously there's shades of grey, but culturally, what are women really expected to accomplish? Get with a man, have a kid maybe.
So no. I don't see any importance in kicking in a door, dropping the statistic with literally no follow through, and running away screaming. I don't see the importance in devilizing all men and putting this weight onto them as if it's in their control.
Tell ya what, when the council of women can stop other women from false rape reports, the council of men will consider letting one (1) women commit a mass shooting.
Fuckin ridiculous. Drop statistics just to demonize. Why not just drop "despite making up" too? Wanna just look at numbers and ignore context? Did anyone who read that tweet ever speak to a man about their mental health and other slew of problems? No. They don't experience it, so don't care. The hypocrisy of feminism is not understanding the injustices of men to the point that when they see any man that breaks, or is unmanly, they are childish and unreasonable. Potentially murderous. They have no problems, they're on top! Those on top never deal with problems! (You're thinking of the rich, not men)
Really the only question that comes to everyone's mind is "what is wrong with men" much like the 13% argument also only leaves the same question to those of african descent. So. Why is it okay now? Why is it okay to point at a statistic without any surrounding information, frame it as poorly as you possibly can, unless you're just wanting to cause division between multiple groups?
It's not frustrating that it's men, I'd be annoyed regardless, animals, women, PoC, real statistics or not, what's frustrating is thinking you're smart for noticing a statistic, but not actually smart enough to offer anything but the number. Why? Answer that then post. Otherwise, it's just divisive and immature.
We went backwards because of that dipshit's tweet. It singlehandedly pushed republicans back further being posted unironically by lefties and to various lefty forums. Nobody. I repeat. N o b o d y, learned from this tweet. Nothing was gained by hostility. Just so they could feel smart. Totally worth the tweeter points...
#just boggles the mind#do women really simply not understand how much shit men deal with on a daily?#have women ever had to hold in tears before#for their entire life#have women ever had a false report tank their career and leave them homeless?#have women ever spoken to a divorced woman that goes on to explain how fucked up it was and they lost their kids despite the other parent#being a methhead?#have women#ever#spoken to men about their problems#the answer is unfortunately very much mostly no#because men speaking about their emotions gets their life upended#women and men#all races and ages#are not connected remotely as much as people seem to somehow believe#we're disconnected as fuck and our government fucks us all over in some way that causes sharp social issues and more#besides I thought we were going to be discussing the real problem with mass shootings#republicans#and guns#not men#fucks sake#the suicide by gun statistics is relevant too but meh#men#gotta focus on the REAL problems#not government failures#not social failures#not police failures#not cultural failures#just the council of men gatekeeping mass shootings#disturbed shit I simply will not understand
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ain’t shit (ft. dilf!kaeya)
pairing babysitter!reader x dilf!kaeya
genre smut
song inspo ain’t shit - doja cat // this playlist
oneshot? series? one shot...for now (?). unless i have more ideas then this’ll turn into a mini series ehe
word count 2k
content warning mentions of sex, cheating, breeding kink, reader is a homewrecker lol, not proofread sry </3
author’s note a different perspective of doja cat’s song, where WE are the bad guys now >:) i’m bored of mc being this angelic, innocent character, so let’s have a mc that’s likely won’t be liked by everyone! and that’s alright! gotta love our problematic mc cos it’s not everyday that we have a main character that gets progressively worse over time LMAO (IMPORTANT!!! i don’t condone cheating btw!! this cheating theme is solely for the sake of this fic, pls don’t actually do that to your partner :/)
also big thanks to @/natyra_art on instagram for this beautiful dilf kaeya art... which is also another source of inspiration for this story hehe
‘‘so when are you divorcing her?’‘ you managed to huff in between thrusts.
‘‘hm?’‘
‘‘when are you, ah-’‘ his cock was hitting all the right spots in you, ‘‘divorcing her?’’
‘‘impatient, aren’t we?’‘ kaeya’s raspy voice sent shivers down your spine, as his calloused fingers lovingly traced the goosebumps on your back.
‘‘it’s been three years, i’ve waited long enough.’‘
‘‘just wait a little longer. i’ll do it when the time is right.’‘
‘’you said that last time too,’‘ you replied, chuckling in disappointment.
‘‘and? don’t you trust my words?’‘ kaeya questioned, his pace slowing down to focus on you better.
‘‘i do, it’s just that...’‘
‘‘hm?’‘ the damp kiss he placed on your nape distracted you for a moment, his breath heavy on your skin as he urged you to carry on talking.
‘‘i’m tired of hiding our relationship... i want to be able to go on dates with you in public. hold your hands and kiss you in front of everyone without getting judged.’‘ the older man merely chuckled hearing your rants throughout your slow fucking session.
hearing his chuckle hit a nerve in you. is he not taking me seriously?
‘‘-and qiqi, that poor baby hasn’t seen her mother in like, what- 8 months? i think last christmas was their last meeting. what kind of mother does that to her child? what a shame... ah- fuck, right there!’‘
ah yes, qiqi. the three year-old baby you’ve been babysitting for the past three years. you were just in your second year of university back then, desperately looking for a part-time job to help support you with your bills and student debt. it was by chance that you met kaeya’s wife who was seeking for a nanny for their 4 month-old qiqi at the time.
her reasoning? she’s a busy travelling businesswoman, going on weekly business trips here and there, while kaeya stayed back to manage his own family company, leaving you to spend most of your university life balancing your studies and taking care of qiqi like one of your own. she even begged you to move in with them to help ease your commute between your campus and their home. two months after moving in with them, she set off on another business trip, claiming that the past six months after giving birth to qiqi was ‘’too much time wasted and opportunities lost in the business world’’. what a great mum.
you tried to understand her point of view, you really did. but after years of seeing qiqi not getting enough maternal love, with her mother coming back once in a while on a three-month interval and acts like she’s not a terrible mom, you’ve gradually accepted that some women just don’t deserve to have kids at all, if all they are doing is neglect the said children. thankfully, her hot husband, kaeya, who is twelve years older than you, helped made it easier for you, providing whatever form of support you need to raise qiqi. now that you just freshly graduated university with all your debt paid, you could finally pay full attention to qiqi, and have her daddy fuck you at the end of each day when you’re finally done with your ‘maternal’ duties.
at this point, kaeya alternated between slow and fast pace, coaxing more rants out of you. this was another one of those cold, rainy nights where you’d snuggle close to kaeya on your shared king-sized bed after putting qiqi to sleep, before it eventually turns into another heated make-out session that usually ends in him burying his dick deep inside you.
‘‘qiqi... she hasn’t met her mother in so long that she starts calling me ‘mom’ months ago. how pathetic is it that her actual mom isn’t even here? don’t you think she deserves a better, available mom?’‘ your complaints earned a manly chuckle from kaeya, who was amused to see how much this was stressing you out.
‘‘oh yeah? you think so?’‘
‘‘i know so,’‘ you firmly stated. another chuckle from him.
‘‘you wanna be her new mom?’‘ kaeya whispered close.
‘‘i’m practically her mommy now. only difference is, we’re not official yet. shame.’‘
‘‘you sure you wanna be her mom? become the new mrs alberich?’‘
‘‘i’ll give her a baby brother while we’re at it,’‘ you dared, glancing back to shoot kaeya a seductive smile.
fuck, that ignited something in him. to have you willingly offering yourself to carry his children lit up his suppressed desire to breed you full. growing up a single child, it was always a dream of his to have a big, happy family so that none of his child would have to grow up lonely. it’s a shame he ended up with a wife who couldn’t care less about his wishes for multiple kids, instead focusing more on her career, when you are here to fulfil that dream of his.
kaeya instantly shifted your body, making you face the vanity mirror on the opposite end of the bed, as his hips started thrusting faster and harder into you, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. his large hands wandered down to your tummy, thumbs gently rubbing your sweaty skin, a stark contrast to his rough pounding.
his lust-filled pair of eyes stared back at you through the mirror, your body on full display, tits jiggling wildly as he reentered you over and over again. hugging your body closer to his, he whispered deeply, ‘’want me to fill this pussy up? have you creaming all over my cock? breed this tight little pussy full so qiqi can have a new sibling?’’
‘‘ah, ah... yes, yes, yes fill me up daddy!’‘ upon hearing the sacred nickname leaving your lips, he thrusted into you even faster, not minding your gasps and sharp nails clawing into his muscled arms, holding onto him for dear life.
‘‘yeah? you want daddy to make you a mommy? stuff you full with daddy’s seed? carry my children and become my mrs alberich?’‘
‘‘oh god, yes, yes... please!’‘
you rested your head on his shoulder blade, your eyes rolling back from the intense pleasure. kaeya held your body even tighter and kissed your gaping mouth to keep you quiet, fearing that your noises would wake qiqi who was fast asleep three bedrooms away.
it didn’t take long before he finally came in you in one last rough thrust, your warm, tight wall milking his veiny dick sloppily, faint white cum running down your pussy as soon as he pulled out. proud to see his massive load practically drooling out of your core, he admired the way the sticky substance pooled at your knees, wetting the bedsheet.
but he wasn’t satisfied just yet, no. he’d swore to himself just now to get you pregnant, already imagining your belly swollen with his future baby. his lustful thoughts prevented him from thinking rationally and recall that he still has a wife to stay faithful to. but for fuck’s sake, it was impossible stay faithful to an absent wife when your hand started pushing him back against the bed, the other hand guiding his dick to your entrance, ready to ride the life out of him.
just as you were about start bouncing on him, his phone started ringing loudly, effectively ruining the moment. you clicked your tongue in annoyance, it’s 11pm, who could be calling him at this time?
kaeya sighed and snatched the phone from his bedside, brows contorting in equal annoyance, eyes squinting at the bright light on his screen before showing the caller ID to you.
oh.
putting it on full speaker for you to hear, he groggily greeted the caller. ‘’yeah, honey? what’s up?’’
the sweet nickname irked you so much that you pretended to puke from it, which earned a silent giggle from the older man.
‘‘oh, i’m sorry babe, were you sleeping? did i disrupt your rest?’‘ rolling your eyes upon hearing the other person’s voice, a light bulb went off in your head. with a snarky smile plastered on your face, you abruptly lowered your body down on his dick, catching kaeya off guard, his breath ragged and eyebrows contorted at the sudden, intense pleasure.
‘‘fuck, i- uh... still sleepy. it’s almost midnight here, why’d you call so late?’‘ it was entertaining for you to see how hard he tried to stay calm throughout the call, so you decided to further test him. you moved your hips and started grinding on him, pussy wall clenching and unclenching as your hand played with your nipple, another hand bringing his own to rest on your bum.
it took him his entire will to shut his eyes to be able to focus on the clueless wife on the other end of the call. ‘’i’m sorry honey, you were saying?’’
‘‘ah, still sleepy aren’t you? haha, i’m calling to let you know i’ll come back in a week once this new york project is finally over!’‘
‘‘w-what?’‘
‘‘yeah, remember that new york investment project i worked on since last year? it concludes two months earlier than expected, so i can spend the remaining months with you and qiqi before i start working on a new project!’‘
kaeya had to do a quick double take at his phone screen before staring back at you in disbelief. massaging his temple, he let out a silent sigh, and lazily replied, ‘’oh... that’s good.’’
‘‘it really is! i’ve missed you and qiqi so much, how’s she?’‘
‘‘qiqi’s doing pretty good... started potty training, still throwing tantrums whenever y/n tells her she needs to stop watching pororo past her bedtime though.’‘
‘‘haha, must be nasty to deal with!’‘ hearing this remark, you felt a sense of pride in yourself. you raised qiqi after all, you knew you’re a better mom to qiqi than kaeya’s wife will ever be. all those things she considered ‘nasty’ were just perks that come with being a mother, so why bother become one if she can’t even handle that much?
‘‘how’s y/n? is everyone good back home?’‘
‘really good’, you mouthed back, as kaeya’s thumb continued tracing the small skin of your ass, his eyes fixed on your connected bodies, adoring the way your pussy just absolutely sucking him in.
‘‘everything’s alright,’‘ he lazily replied.
‘‘that’s good to hear! alright, i don’t wanna keep you awake any longer, you should continue your sleep! good night sweetheart, love you.’‘
‘‘love you more,’‘ kaeya lied through his teeth with a grimace, immediately hanging up.
‘‘lOvE yOu MoRe,’‘ you continued mocking him, riling him up more. ‘‘great, now she has the audacity to come back when her daughter can’t even recall her face anymore.’’ kaeya remained silent, dreading the day he’ll eventually have to confront his wife.
‘’what about our plan? making another mini you? i guess that’s not happening anymore, huh...’’ you pouted, knowing damn well it’s one of his weaknesses. in an instance, kaeya flipped your body over, you yelped as your back hit the mattress.
‘‘what, did you think i was joking?’‘ he raspily muttered, resting his forehead on top of yours, your limbs instinctively clung to his strong, chiseled body.
‘‘i don’t know... thought you’d change your mind and come running back to your oh-so-lovely wife?’‘
‘‘hm? you mean an absent wife?’‘ he raised a brow, to which you nodded. ‘‘i don’t think so.’‘
‘‘besides,’‘ he paused to hold the back of your thigh open, exposing your connected core, rhythm slow as he tried focusing on his next words, ‘‘you’re practically my wife already. going on vacation dates with me, caring for my child, preparing meals for me like a good wife should. and now..,’’ kaeya’s eyes stared into yours expectantly.
‘‘...now what?’‘
leaning in to give you a tender kiss, kaeya then grinned, his pace quickening, heart surged with desire as he muttered his next words.
‘‘i can’t wait to see your belly rounding, swollen and full, filled with my baby.’‘
author’s note once again i hope i don’t get death threats for writing a homewrecker main character 🏃🏻♀️🏃🏻♀️🏃🏻♀️
#kaeya x reader#kaeya x you#kaeya x y/n#kaeya genshin#kaeya genshin impact#kaeya genshin x reader#genshin#genshin impact#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin impact fluff#genshin x reader#genshin imagines#kaeya imagines#genshin impact headcanons#diluc imagines#zhongli imagines#childe imagines#thoma imagines#genshin impact x you#genshin impact x reader#kaeya alberich#genshin angst#kaeya angst#kaeya fluff#tw: cheating
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devotion (ROYAL AU) — pt.1 : realization.
Butler! Diluc X GN!Reader . Royal! childe (as supporting character), butler! Kaeya (supporting cast ; in pt2 story line)
contains : heavy angst, comfort/hurt, isolation, arranged marriage, major character death, mentions of blood, injuries, execution, abusive relationship, abandonment, ‘consumption’, false accusation, blades
summaries : arranged marriage has always been one of your family ruthless tradition. You were allowed to love them you couldn’t reach, yet the feeling of being abandoned once and for all by those who you truly treasured was more than numbness could ever describe. Diluc who’s your lover need to accept this tradition, yet he, himself need to get his life down for your future sake.
A/N : thank you for 100 followers!! It has been a wild ride since i’ve just joined this community. Thank you very much and as a rewards, here’s a token of heavy angst for y’all. I have a really bad writing block right now, so this might took more than you think hehe. So once again, thank you very much! ( i actually hate this, tyvm)
“Your majesty…please allow me to hold y—“
“No. I simply do not have time for people pleaser, please let yourself be out from here..” , you cursed your future-husband out of from your bounties. It startled all of the maids and butlers in your room, it even make your somewhat-fiancé looked awful. You were pissed by him, by the structure of his eyelids, the heavy breathe from who-knows-where and many more part of him you don’t even want to recognize.
There’s no reason to deny that you hate this, all of this, Known as the maiden of the family, you were nothing but their only pry. It pissed you, it really does. How come you are holding the throne at the age of 25? Aren’t you supposed to check your garden instead taking all of your well-behave throne and the awful arranged marriage your family has made? No? What an unlucky person you are, the butlers thought.
“Diluc please guide master tartaglia to the upfront door, i have no intention to see him now. If you already had brought him downstairs, get back to my resident immediately.”
“this is the main reason why everyone despis—“
“Please leave Immediately. My master have no further interest to speak with you, master tartaglia.” Diluc shouted your internal response to the group of scums in front of your sight. He heard enough of this small talk your future-husband has been talking about. Diluc wasn’t jealous, he was simply too disturbed with your disgusted face everytime tartaglia walks around your residence. just how much pressured you had been under to make you act so ruthless in front of the man you’ll called husband in no time?
he silently observing him down the hall. Not wanting to have a talk with a scum like him, he avoid any sights of his ‘particular’ interest. After all, in his eyes, tartaglia doesn’t deserve any part of you. He acts too normally, there diluc suspicion of your fiancé grown. There must be something behind his motive. Tartaglia have recognize diluc’s gaze for a while now. Though, he pretend none of those bothering suspicion triggered his rage. And so, he fired him up with a quick straightforward awareness. Or as the citizen say, A threat.
“mr. Butler..stop loving my future partner or tomorrow you’ll have the consequences..got it? And do not touch them..i’ve warned you when you were alive, i like my future partner to be a virgin ins—“
“master tartaglia i have no relationship with the majesty, how come you assume such a thing from a humble butler like me? I was just simply following orders, hope you could understand, master tartaglia.” , answering his rage. Tartaglia found his emotion drains wild. It look like those bothering emotions he hide finally show diluc their true intention to spoiled you. Diluc’s eyes met your fiancé terrifying visions, the murderous aura in it explains his true intention. Diluc could only plea inside, let my majesty be safe.
“don’t you dare say anything to your master, mr butler. My partner has been mine all along, stay away from our relationship or tomorrow would be your last day…”
“Though, i simply wouldn’t mind, ajax.” , he gurantees tartaglia’s eyes.
The night came. the breeze flew through your open windows, leaving chills through your spine. it was an unsurprisingly beautiful night, you quoted. Diluc was preparing your bed, as you humm through the southed area of your room. The melodical sound of your humming have always soothes his grudge from afar. It was always been his favorite sound.
“ your majesty, the bed has been done. You may rest peacefully now..so please excuse m—“
“Diluc…stop making it seems like i’m the only one who loved you..just stay here, i missed you a lot..” , in a sudden your arm was attached to his body, his dirty and ordinary body. You embraced him so tightly, as if diluc were going to some place you wouldn’t want him to cross. You were scared of losing him. You don’t want any of this marriage, you don’t want tartaglia to even acknowledge your presence. You just want diluc to stay by your side, even if you both have considered how selfish it is.
You clunge onto his chest, pressing gentle kiss on his cheeks. Not wanting him to leave nor to leave you behind. So desperate of you to feel this way.
“you’ve been doing great darling,i’m proud of you..”
“please stay like this for a while, i love you. So please, don’t go..don’t go..” , diluc watch your flattering smile turns into a small-sobs, it cracks him, he doesn’t want to let you go either. He was simply following your fiancé awareness, he doesn’t want anyone to harm you, even if it meant for you to see him in agony. Diluc Carries your figure into your bed in return, not wanting to bare any of his emotions. Feelings are fragile and so do he. giving soft and gentle kisses to your forehead as he wiped your tears, whispering a ‘goodnight’ before he left you again. If he was being honest, he wants to be more selfish, he wants to be with you, forever.
“hmm..i’ll be waiting for you, goodnight my beloved..”
“What’s with the inconvenience…?” The loud atmosphere greet you with chills. What time is it? You don’t even know. All you know is the sunrise have yet to grown out from the wave of the clouds. but why must all of your maids gather themself on your room, something important? But why must them gather at the edge of dusk..? Did your mother fucked up again? But actually, what happened?
At the same time, you mumbled a form of question. Where’s diluc? You asked yourself.
“Y-Your majesty! d-diluc have now been courted by the queen, i-i don’t know what happened but please stay put i shall help you! Yes! I-i—“ courted? In sudden, you dropped your glasses. The broken piece of the glasses shard scarred your leg. It was painful, but you didn’t care. The blood shed of your scars leave the carpet of your resident turn into a red motives of blood. What did diluc do to make himself courted by your own mother? All he did was to love me, mother. The maid beside you were in all panics, trying to brag your arm from leaving the room. Although you declined the embrace of it, you were still running in pain, it made the maids panics turn into vomits.
Rushing through the open corridor of your resident in sweats and blood shed, You found diluc. His hands tied with a rope, a slight red bruises covered his face. He was Courted by your mother because of an unknown letter that has been sent to the queen herself, it was dumb for her to court an innocent person like him. Though, at last, you found yourself screaming his name. The pain which hold onto your consciousness leave your body in a second. diluc was aware of this, Everything. His hands wanted to touch you and lead you to rest. but he couldn’t, the execution would be in front of his eyes in no time.
“you did harm my child don’t you? Look at those blood on their legs! How come a butler like you harmed my precious child..?! They are unconscious because of you filthy butler. Know your degree, h—“
“you abuse them, your highness. You abuse them, ever since their father die, you abandoned them and break them to pieces. How come you only care about them dying when their time to hold the throne came? They were dying because of you, those consumption they witness are all because of you. And you dare to tell me what to do when all i did was just to love them?!” He quoted every single words you wish you could say to your mothers face. You wished you have the audacity to tell her the truth, yet your weak body refuse it’s urge to make diluc out of the execution lines. I’m sorry, i’m really sorry.
silence fill the room. You were laying in pain, as you heard diluc’s defense and your mother’s lies. You realized once more, you were nothing to them. Just a pry for the throne. none of the guards have pitied you either, they are too focused on never-letting diluc’s eyes or hands meet your figure in this state of time. Those scarred glasses on your legs have made you lose too-many bloods, it scared diluc. After all, as a lover he is, he has devoted himself to protect you in all cost. let them be safe and take me away. It’s his last hope for you to stay awake for him.
“no execution needed. I have no reason to pay attention to fools like you. so isolation it is. This is all because of you, my child is dying and you’re the one at fault. Noticed how they haven’t even called your name again? They died because your lack of responsibility.” , spitting her mucus in diluc’s knees. You could barely saw diluc chills which you usually saw in his eyes. He’s about to cry..you think.
“Guards, please take my child away and let them rest in their bed. And so for this butler, put him in the isolation room, make sure to let him eat only once in a day, understood? Ah..don’t let my child see him, i don’t want them to see an abuser like him crawling out their life’s on my window.” , orders from your mother are none to first. They couldn’t be disobey and you understand them. You understand how ruthless it is, you understand it. But why must diluc? Why him? You saw the sight of him, blades are all over his neck. For what reason actually? To let him never see you again.
carried by the guards to your room and diluc was gone from your vision. He is not wrong, your highness. So why must those who loved me left my side, mother? Why won’t these bruises you add to my flawless skin never leave me? Is it because i’m a procession of your own sin? It was a cursed to fall in love with those you could barely reach.
PART 2 : COMING SOON
this is shitty, really shitty in fact. Though, thank you very much for reading this. Part 2 will come soon, if i had some energy to write the readers mother personality without getting pissed off. But anyways, see y’all soon at part 2 <3
#diluc ragnvindr#diluc x reader#diluc ragnvindr x reader#genshin impact diluc#genshin impact diluc ragnvindr#genshin impact#genshin impact headcannons#genshin impact childe#childe x reader#tartaglia x reader#genshin impact tartaglia#diluc x y/n#diluc ragnvindr x y/n#genshin impact fanfic#diluc angst#diluc comfort/hurt#childe angst#childe comfort/hurt
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Rambling about how Ace developed as a character throughout the story
From what I can tell by looking at the text, Oda probably got the idea for Ace while writing Arlong Park. There we meet Nojiko, Nami's cool older adopted sister. Her primary role in the story is providing a safe place for Nami to vent her feelings and looking after Nami's well-being but you can see shadows of what will become Ace's defining characterization when he's introduced in Alabasta. Namely that she is more responsible and mature than Nami, valuing her family in spite of their poverty and lack of blood ties (unlike Nami) and being willing to throw away her own happiness for Belemere's sake, there's a few lines that suggest she was an even better thief than Nami back in the day (Though Nami's clearly had more... field experience) and of course... she is shot in front of Nami. Not fatally, of course, but it was a real scare.
Towards the end of the arc, Luffy stumbles on Gen at Belemere's grave and tries to offer his condolences (which he does in an unusually formal and polite way for him) but doesn't quite stick the landing. I posit this is where Oda got the idea of Ace's running gag of speaking politely but acting quite rude.
By the time Ace is properly introduced into the story I'm sure Oda already had Ace-the-plot-device figured out but Ace-the-character is a different matter entirely. Of course, Oda, knowing Ace would die and that he needed Ace to be as likeable as possible, did his damndest to sell Ace as a picture-perfect responsible older brother while still having his behavior resemble Luffy's enough you believe they're brothers. But outside of that his character is just there to build hype for future characters and events. Half the reason Ace leaves so soon after being introduced is to give Oda more time to figure him out.
I do think, however, that he'd already figured Ace and Luffy would have to be adopted brothers. He knew he'd eventually have to find a reason for Ace's absence during Luffy's OG backstory. Saying this picture-perfect older brother just ignored the crises with the mountain bandits wouldn't do. Having Ace and Luffy be adopted siblings rather than biological allowed him more room to maneuver. Maybe Ace had reservations about Luffy and/or Shanks and didn't want to hang out with them. Maybe, like Nami, he didn't value his adopted family until a little mortal peril straightened out his priorities. Maybe he just wasn't in Luffy's life yet.
(Which... if I could... did Garp really arrange for two separate child-care systems for his two separate-but-equal grandsons who lived on the same island and take YEARS to think of raising them together?? This man should never been entrusted with children.)
It also meant Ace could have his own life and struggles independent of Luffy. Oda would have the room to design a complex character that didn't have to revolve around his more-plot-relevant brother. Which is something many authors struggle with. Making supporting characters feel like they have their own lives and stories outside of how they affect the main narrative.
But... Oda also hedges his bets in places. Ace is designed, both in appearance and behavior, to resemble Luffy up to a point. Ace's appearance is more angular and thus reads more masculine. But he still has Luffy's messy black hair, his wide comfortable shorts, and that iconic hat. (Which, looking back, the genius of having them only share one genetic trait and it's one they both share with fucking Roger is so fucking good Oda oh my god!) They have different last names but they both have that middle D. Which we've just learned is something to pay attention to. And, of course, neither of them mention any details about their family or childhoods because Oda hasn't made a decision yet one way or the other.
I don't think Oda had the idea of Ace being Roger's son until after he'd finished Enies Lobby. The reason being that all throughout Enies Lobby Oda seems to be leaning more towards Ace and Luffy actually being biological brothers. Luffy uses Ace's gags a few times throughout the arc, mainly when he's unreasonably polite to some guards before resorting to violence with them and then when he and Garp both fall asleep in the middle of an argument. Giving the impression that all three are related and thus would share traits. (Luffy does this at no other point btw) The D. initial is revealed to be such a familial trait (and with as rare as we know it to be what are the odds of two unrelated D.'s being adopted into the same family) And with Garp introduced as the patriarch of the family, we now have a much clearer understanding of Luffy's family dynamics and upbringing. We as the audience feel that we have an explanation for why these characters are the way that they are. Their grandfather is a living legend and also an eccentric who uses extreme means to make his grandsons into strong marines but their father left when Luffy was a baby, causing the older brother to feel more protective and responsible towards him. Where was Ace when the shit with the mountain bandits went down? Idk Garp probably chucked him off a cliff or sent him to military school or something.
But Enies Lobby is also definitely where Oda plants the seeds that will become Ace is Roger's son. Through Robin we see how terrifying it is to be on the wrong side of the World Government, especially as an under-prepared child. To be told your existence is a sin regardless of your actions or intentions. And the toll that persecution takes on one's mental health, ability to trust in others, and even the desire to live at all. Through Tom we see that this is a world where any connection to criminals, no matter how minor or how innocent you yourself may be, can be quite damning and have disasterous consequences.
Also towards the end of Enies Lobby we get our first proper introduction to Whitebeard. And I know Whitebeard was technically introduced before this all the way back in Jaya but, like Ace, he was introduced before Oda really knew the details of his character beyond the broad strokes. That scene is pretty-standard hype-building. This is when we get our first looks at what sets Whitebeard apart as a character and a pirate. Namely the paternal bond he shares with his crew, including Ace. Which wasn't really mentioned up until now. Ace is certainly happy with Whitebeard but during the early parts of the story he refers to him as his "boss" not "Oyaji". Now there are two possibilities here. Either Whitebeard's focus on being a father to his crew was a reaction to Ace's daddy issues or Ace's daddy issues were a reaction to Whitebeard's focus on being a father to his crew. These two were always going to be the most prominent in the story and thus their relationship would need to be emotionally compelling. So I'm sure one grew out of the other. However Oda deciding Ace would have daddy issues dosen't mean his daddy is yet. And I'm sure Oda could've found plenty of reasons for Ace to be mad with Dragon if he'd gone that path.
And so it would seem at some point during Thriller Bark or Sabody or maybe even Amazon Lily Oda decided to make Ace the ultimate combination of all the elements explored in Enies Lobby by making him Roger's son. Probably abandoning some other backstory for him he'd started planning and laying down the foundation for. And the rest is history.
Also for what it's worth I have no goddamn idea when he came up with Sabo.
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The Cure for Nightmares (Nico di Angelo x Male Reader)
This is probably the longest thing I’ve written for this account. It might jump around. It’s also like 3k words of world building lmao and I’d put this as two parts but fuck that
Disclaimer: I did not read the Kane Chronicles so I know nothing about Egyptian mythology or the books. Tried my best to put some bullshit lmao
Requested by: @imgayandilikeit
Well I'm think that let change the hole Greek Demigod love each others , we have other religions for heaven sake and so I'm thinking that Nico x Egyptian demigod!male reader , son of Anubis =))) both of their fathers is the gods of dead/underworld
Word Count: 4639
Moving to New York was probably one of the worst ideas anyone gave you.
You ran away once you found out you were a demigod. It was too dangerous for you to be around. You grabbed one large duffel bag worth of clothing and supplies and didn't look back. You hadn't anticipated how much worse it would be in New York City, with a population larger than you could imagine.
Of all the gods that could have been your parent, it was the god of the dead. You'd never met him, so you had to assume that he either didn't know you existed or that he didn't want to meet you. And coming to a new place was going to be a new start for you. There was something refreshing about a new life, but the city was suffocating. It was confusing and loud and the buildings were a bit too tall. You decided to look for any hangouts for demigods.
Somehow, it wasn't as hard as you thought it would be. With the blaring neon sign of "Half God, Half Mortal," you figured it was worth a try. The name might have been a bit too obvious, but at least it helped the newer people like you to spot it. Once the bouncer realised that you were much to young to be there, he opened the door and pointed towards your right.
"Walk straight into the wall."
You gave him a nod as a thanks. Passing by him, you noticed something was off about him, as if his appearance was rippling. You figured he wasn't exactly human, and continued on.
The door was literally the wall. You touched the wall warily, then pushed it open a bit further with more force. The bouncer grumbled.
"Murray, you're not tricking the kids into running into the wall again, are you?" said the man clearing a counter.
You didn't hear the rest, walking fully into the room and letting the door shut behind you. There was a shimmering film that surrounded the room. It seemed to be the wards in place to prevent monsters from entering and the scent that demigods gave off from leaving. The room was much like the bar behind the wall-door, but had brighter lighting and no colourful neon lights along the walls. A few people sat at joined tables, though the room was full of tables and chairs throughout. You counted about 7 other people, with 2 of them who were definitely grown adults. Only two of the people around your age acknowledged your presence, then looked back at their conversation. They all seemed to be speaking to one another, but some were clearly speaking for the first time. You walked over to the other end of the room, where a generally hairy man with a goatee was stocking things behind the counter.
"Hey, how's it going? This is a pit stop for any demigods, no matter the parents, no matter the backstory. I'm Corbin."
He stuck his hand out, which you hesitantly shook.
"I'm sorry, I don't actually know... uh, is there somewhere... I can stay?" you asked hesitantly, not wanted to drop any larger questions.
"There are some rooms here, but keep in mind that we are not at all funded properly, and the gods aren't exactly the best with taking care of their kids. But everyone who works here does care about you and the anyone else who passes through. There have been some recent developments because one demigod — bless him — made a deal with the gods to pay their child support," Corbin said.
He paused suddenly, rubbing his neck as he looked away and laughed.
"Sorry, didn't mean to ramble. We'll get you situated in one of the rooms. Promise we won't steal anything. We don't want anything you own."
You gave him an awkward smile to try and alleviate his nervous ramble, following him to the rooms that were in the back. He had a strange skip in his step, like he was limping but wasn't in any pain. His confident first impression was clearly practiced, but the rest of his speech wasn't as much. He showed you to the third door on the left.
"You can go back out and mingle with the others. We'll have dinner soon, and you can contact anyone you need to via Iris messaging," he said, hobbling back to the entrance of the hallway to grab some towels.
"Is there supposed to be a main place for demigods? I know you said this was a pit stop, so... what isn't a pit stop?" you asked.
"Oh, you're really new, huh? Well, there's Camp Half-Blood. It's right on Long Island, so it looks like you came to the right place. I can get you a ride there tomorrow, but prepare for a long drive," he said.
You felt like it was too rude to ask what mythology it was supposed to be. After all, none of the gods were really myth anymore, were they? And Corbin was definitely not of Egyptian... whatever.
"If you need a shower, there's one in the back. You are so lucky we don't have roaches. The magic or something. Can't say the same for my apartment..."
You took the towels he provided and put your bag down to get a hold of your surroundings. You started to take out the things you needed, starting to feel the weight of the journey and the toll of everything you left behind. You didn't let yourself break. You could leave that for when you finally got to the camp.
The shower had hot water. And it lasted for as long as you were in the shower. The place might not have been funded well, but by the gods was the magic amazing. You found more of the magic as you finally got clean and went out to the larger room, with the other demigods having moved around going to their rooms and such.
"Hey, join us," one of the older ones said. "We don't bite."
You sat at the empty space they left you, and some people started to bring in large dishes of food and plates to hand out. This place was definitely meant for kids like you who weren't ready for the world yet. They had to be accommodating and giving all supplies possible. You really hoped that whatever gods were funding this cared about their kids.
You didn't talk too much to the others, focused more on the food. You learned that they were from all over, their godly parents Greek or Roman, some not knowing the names. You felt out of place when you said Anubis, but everyone gave you reassuring looks.
"How did you know, since you only found out recently?"
"Kind of hard not to know when you bring your dying friend back to life from a car accident," you explained, pushing the leftover food around your plate.
They showed you where the offerings were, and you scraped the leftover food into the fireplace.
"Have fun with those potatoes, Anubis," you mumbled.
The sleep was welcoming, and you felt how tired you were as your eyes finally shut.
———
You woke up to a loud clanging, instantly jumping out of bed as if ready to fight.
"Hey, keep the fighting out of the bedrooms! You know we don't get paid enough!"
You heard some voices grumbling, and swords being sheathed or placed onto a table. You decided you might as well get ready. In the peace of your own temporary room, you heard the others talking or laughing as they got ready as well, excluding the ones who were already up. They were talking about fighting techniques. You knew nothing about them, but were aware that demigods like you were usually better at handling physical combat than full mortals were. By the time you got to the main room, both swords were nowhere to be seen and it was as if no one had used one at all.
Breakfast was the same. You refused to get too close, knowing that you had to leave the demigods you just met anyway. So you were silent and focused on your food, remembering any information from them about creatures and gods whenever they mentioned it. After you threw in your offering to the gods, you turned to find Corbin again.
"I've got a ride for you, and it'll be here in about an hour. I'll grab you the stuff you might need," he said. "And... not everyone is comfortable with them, but we have some weapons. If you need them. We're supposed to ask everyone."
You followed him to another hallway opposite of the hallway that led to the bedrooms. He opened a door to a large room, weapons ranging from knives to spears against the walls and laying on tables.
"Our blacksmith doesn't come until noon, so unfortunately you won't be meeting her. Still, you're welcome to try out anything you need. And don't worry about not knowing what to do with them. Your instincts always come in."
You looked around in awe, noticing the older ones were clearly battle-worn and on one side as the blacksmith was working on them. You looked to the opposite wall and the one on the right, picking up a knife to feel the weight. You ended up choosing a sword. It didn't feel quite right, like someone else had just been using it and handed it over to you temporarily. It was balanced enough that you could use it.
"Oh, that one was from someone from Camp Half-Blood. I'm sure the camp would be glad to have it back. Sometimes I feel like we're playing hot potato with other spots like these and the different camps," Corbin chuckled.
"What happened to them?" you asked, preparing yourself for a horrible answer.
"The previous owner? They're still alive, but felt like they could put down the sword and picked up a spear instead. Turns out they fought a lot better with it."
You nodded, feeling a bit less disturbed, and grabbed the sheathe for it. You really hoped you wouldn't need it.
Half an hour later, everyone gave you a quick goodbye, and you got in the car with your bag and the sword. The driver gave you a salute and played your favourite music. You assumed it was enchanted because they were definitely not listening to the same thing you were. You didn't feel tired throughout the entire ride, your nerves eating at you despite the calming drive. Your hand twitched on the sword constantly, and you ached to pull it out every ten minutes when you thought you saw anything moving within the trees.
Eventually the driver stopped in what felt like the absolute middle of nowhere, not even the slightest hint of the suburbs.
"This is as far as I can go. Keep that sword on you. Follow the rest of the road, and then there's a dirt road past those trees. Good luck, kid."
They drove away quickly. You had the slightest feeling they weren't mortal. You continued to walk, bag in hand and sheathed sword in the other. You found the dirt road, following it as far as you could even when you could see it turn into grass in the twists and turns in the distance. When you reached the end, you finally glimpsed the strangest twinkle through the trees. You smiled, knowing you finally found the camp, but a rustling caught your attention instead.
The smile fell off your face and you flung your bag and the sheathe to the side, readying your weapon. You stayed half-hidden behind a tree, using the gaps between the other trees to stay on the lookout. Through the trees, one side seemed to growl, and you jumped back just in time for a massive paw to swipe down the tree you were just hiding behind. You yelped, and your back hit another tree, but you moved away from it to hold up the sword.
The massive dog turned to you, and the glint of your sword shined in its eyes. You let the sun reflect into one of its eyes, which only annoyed it more as it charged in your direction. You dashed to the side and slashed at its leg. It gave a loud, angry bark and turned on you. You could see the camp's borders, but you wouldn't reach it in time if you ran. And the overgrown dog wasn't exactly something you could outrun.
"Need some help?" you heard someone say.
You whipped your head around to see a pale teenager. The only colourful thing about him was his sickly skin. Even his eyebags seemed to be as dark as his clothing.
"What the hell is that thing?" you shouted, dodging another charge as you jumped away from him.
"He's a hellhound, and I don't think he wants to be friends," the teen said.
"No kidding!"
The teen was clearly better with a sword than you were. You and the teen returned every swipe of the hellhound's paw with your own attack. You finally stabbed the sword straight into the hellhound's side. Instead of the blood you were expecting, it let a quiet whimper as it crumbled to dust and blew away with a wind you didn't feel.
"Nico," the teen said, going for your stuff and handing you the sheathe.
"What?"
"That's my name. Son of Hades."
You took the sheathe and put the sword back, picking up your duffel bag as well and beginning to walk with him.
"(Y/N). Son of Anubis."
He looked confused, then looked you over.
"Anubis is a god of death, too, isn't he?" Nico asked. "So what's your power?"
"I'm not really sure. I just know I brought someone back to life once," you said.
"I raise the dead. Like, in an army."
"Nice."
You both began to approach the camp's entrance, the banner a bright orange that could hurt your eyes if it was right in the sun. And it was. You shielded your eyes and looked back down. You gestured to the many campers training with weapons or just hanging around.
"Why were you the only one that came to help?" you asked.
"I'm the only child of Hades. Figures I'm the only one who would know if my godly parent's pets are running around near me."
You nodded in understanding, following him to a centaur. As if sensing you, the centaur turned and clip-clopped over to you.
"Welcome! I'm Chiron, the camp- you're hurt."
His bright smile fell into a concerned look, and he began to usher you further into the camp.
"Nico, be sure that our new camper is cared for in the Big House."
Nico made a noise of agreement and continued walking with you to a large, wooden building.
"Sorry. You didn't say anything and I couldn't really tell you were hurt. You'll get some clothing when you're getting healed."
The adrenaline began to wear off now that you were no longer fighting. Then you looked down and the pain started to kick in. A scratch from the hellhound became a gash on your lower leg. You suddenly became aware that you had been limping your way into camp, if not just powering through the pain. Nico looked guilty, so you reassured him quickly.
"Really, it's fine. I didn't know it was there."
He helped take your bag and onto one of the cots in the infirmary. You looked at him, noticing that he didn't seem to be hurt or even disheveled, and not a single part of him seemed different than when he first helped fight the hellhound.
"Thanks, Nico," you said sincerely.
He just nodded and turned to get someone to help. Then he left the infirmary as a demigod came to give you a small cube to eat, and another started to find supplies for your leg.
———
When you'd finally been let out of the infirmary, the sun was making its way towards the horizon. It was getting closer to sunset, but it wasn't there yet. Nico was waiting outside, poking at the scratches in the wood.
"I thought you left," you said.
"I did. But obviously I'm not going to just leave a new camper that I brought in to fend for themselves, so I came back after I was done with training," he huffed. "I'll bring you to your cabin."
You followed him past campers chasing each other or wrestling or fighting. He paid them no attention, but everything was new to you. Now that you weren't focused on an injury, you saw that the camp was beautiful. He pushed open the door to the cabin with familiarity, and dropped onto a bed. It looked lived in, and clothing and objects were strewn around the area.
"You can pick any one of them. Doesn't matter where," he said, grabbing a pair of black jeans from the floor and folding it.
"Is this your cabin?" you asked, hesitantly picking up your duffel bag that was placed by the door and putting it on the one next to his.
"Well, child of the Greek god of the underworld, and child of the Egyptian god of death. Chiron probably figured it was the best option for you," he muttered.
You opened your bag, beginning to take out the things you might need for the next few days. It wasn't much. You looked back up and noticed an orange shirt within the rest of his clothing, similar to the ones many campers were wearing.
"Is that the camp shirt?" you asked, sitting on the bed to face him.
"Uh, yeah. I don't always wear it," he said.
"What, keeping up the emo aesthetic?" you chuckled.
He looked like he almost cracked a smile, and he looked up at you before it completely disappeared.
"And what about you? Not gonna adopt the same style for your godly parent?"
You shrugged, noting the teal shirt you didn't normally wear. It was some of your more athletic wear, and you figured you needed it in your journey. Turned out you were right.
"I thought I'd be living in here with a sibling someday," Nico admitted. "It's still cool to have a new friend anyway."
Now you were sure he was smiling a bit. He stood up then, the smile gone.
"C'mon. I gotta show you the camp. And my friends."
You followed him until it was time for dinner. You met most of his friends along the way. They all had such wildly differing personalities, but they were still such good friends. You wondered why the gods couldn't do the same.
Dinner had the same procedure with everyone eating then using the rest as offerings. Nico continued his tour, bringing you further out than most campers would normally (according to him). He brought you back to the camp in time for the campfire, his friends beckoning you both over.
"So, you're the new Egyptian demigod, right?" a new person asked. "I'm Annabeth."
"She keeps the group together," Percy added.
"That's not really true," she laughed.
"She keeps Percy from falling apart," Nico said.
"Okay, that's fair," Percy said, and Annabeth shrugged in agreement.
Annabeth sat you down next to her, asking everything you knew about Egyptian mythology. Anything you didn't know, she ranted on her own. She spoke a mile a minute and somehow you understood her every word. After the sun was long set and there was a clear change in the stars moving through the night sky, she finally seemed to snap out of it. You looked to your side to see Nico and Percy watching the two of you, but lost in their own conversation.
"Hey, it's getting late and almost everyone's gone. We should probably get to bed," Annabeth said.
She stood and held a hand out for you. You smiled and grabbed it, letting her pull you up. She gestured to Percy, who stood with Nico. You continued talking all the way back to the cabins, and you dropped her off at her cabin first.
"Thanks for teaching me about Egyptian mythology? I mean, it's a lot to know for someone who's a Greek demigod," you commented.
"I'm still a daughter of Athena. If I don't know things, who would I be?"
You smiled and settled for a very awkward fist bump after debating if it was appropriate to shake hands or hug her. You and Nico waved to Percy as he headed towards his cabin, and you went to the Hades cabin.
"So. How was today?" Nico asked.
"Tiring, but really great. Maybe I'm not supposed to be here, but I feel like I belong for once," you said.
"I get that."
You passed him as he held the door open for you. The bags under his eyes looked less prominent in the shadow from the moon. The crease between his eyebrows was gone entirely, like something wasn't weighing him down anymore. As you both got ready for bed, you couldn't help but think what his story was and what he gave up to come here.
"Good night, Nico."
"Night."
———
Nico's nightmares didn't stop. He thrashed, screamed, and woke up with a startle only to find out that you had been trying to wake him up the whole time. You started to understand why his eyes held a perpetual feature of dark circles. You found he didn't quite enjoy physical touch, but calmed instantly if you grabbed his shoulder or arm during his sleep. The others seemed to just know about him and what he went through, so they would sometimes check on him. They'd come with gifts or something, which he tried to decline. You forced him to take them because it was just the polite thing to do. (Some of them would try to pass them on to him through you, and you didn't need another incident of shooting an arrow that nearly hit Dionysus in the head.)
No one gave Nico much trouble. His rage was dangerous as someone who could raise dead armies. He was powerful, and his fellow campers would not dare get on his bad side.
It seemed it was the same for you, when you had a bad day and ran off into the trees. You'd touched a tree to get balanced again, and sank down with your back against it to rest and think. When you focused back to reality, Annabeth had just run into the clearing. She found you in a circle of death, the sickly tan leaves on the floor around you with brown blades of grass. You found a dead bird behind the tree after you stood and inspected the area in panic. You avoided Annabeth's attempts to comfort you and went to the Hades cabin.
You slept on the opposite side of the cabin from Nico for a week.
You finally talked to him after that. He gave you a rare smile. He assured you that your powers were not something to fear, and that you should learn to embrace them. Even if his powers were different, he thought of them as a curse, the same way you did. The god of death did not come without life, which he said was a reason you were able to bring someone back from the dead in the first place. If you could control that, you wouldn't need to worry.
You went back to your training, as Chiron was notified of your previous situation and didn't interfere. Annabeth threw herself at you in a hug a week after when you were comfortable again. The summer was nearly over, and the three demigods out on the quest would be back soon.
"Usually, we're only here for the summer. But a lot of us have to stay behind because we don't have places to go outside of here. And you already know about the Mist for your weapons and the monsters. It's not always safe out there, but Percy's managed every year."
You looked around at the camp, which would be missing most of its current campers within a week. You looked at Annabeth sitting beside you sharpening her knife.
"How do you avoid the monsters?"
"You don't, really. Most kids don't have problems. Percy does because he's one of the Big Three and he's had to fight a monster before coming to camp every year. Nico rarely ever leaves camp, and no one's looking to fight him so he's left alone. I don't think you'd have much of a problem if you go back home."
You saw Percy, splashing Grover with water and running away laughing. You saw Nico, Stygian Iron sword in hand, sparring with someone else. The purple glow glinted to a slightly lighter purple as the sun shone down on them. He suddenly stepped behind a pillar, reappearing by a tree and taking the camper by surprise from behind. She laughed, and his shoulders shook in a quiet chuckle as he pulled her up from the ground.
"It's a bit far, and I kind of gave the people there the impression that I might not be coming back. Maybe I'll wait," you said.
"Wouldn't hurt to be with Nico for a little longer, huh?" Annabeth teased.
You scoffed and pushed her lightly, which might not have been the best idea considering the very sharp object in her hand. She laughed anyway, and put the knife to the side.
"Really. It's not every day you're nearly living with someone who isn't your sibling in your cabin. You've waited long enough, I think. Both of you."
She nudged your shoulder, and stood up with the wooden sword at the ready.
"You've still got a lot to learn. Pick up your shield, c'mon."
You groaned and grabbed the shield from the floor. The hits of the sword put you in a mode of concentration to think about what she said.
———
That night, you stared up at the ceiling. It was slightly illuminated by the moonlight, and you could barely make out Nico's form on the bed. It was one of those nights where you were both up late, but the rarer ones where neither of you spoke for a while. It was clear one of you were going to break the tension because you both wanted to say something.
"Hey, (Y/N)?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm gay."
"Alright."
It was silent for a bit, even his breathing quieted.
"That's it?"
"No," you sighed. You sat up, facing him as he followed suit, but more slowly. You watched as he flicked on the small nightlight that one of the Hephaestus kids made upon request, as you both struggled to sleep sometimes. It cast a comforting purple glow, probably a joke about Nico's sword. "I don't know how else to say it."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I was talking to Annabeth earlier today. I think of you as someone I would like to be with. As more than friends. But this... world is still new to me, and I'm..."
"Scared?"
"Something like that."
You moved over to his bed, taking a seat facing him. He shuffled to face you as well, and he took your hands in his cold ones.
"I've had feelings for very few people in the past. I think it wouldn't hurt to try."
You leaned over and pulled him into a hug, which he returned.
"Yeah, I think that would be nice," you whispered.
You slept side by side that night, the side of your arm and leg pressed together as your hands were grasped tightly. You woke up to the sounds of birds chirping outside and Nico, who didn't move at all that night.
No nightmares.
#x male reader#nico di angelo x reader#nico di angelo x male reader#nico x reader#nico x male reader#nico di angelo imagine#male reader#male reader insert#request
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You Send Me Flying
Chapter Seven:
(Author’s notes: co-written with @nature-and-music, beta’d by @lady-jane-revisited. Based on The Dirt movie as I don’t yet own the book. Warnings: language and smut)
We headed down stairs and piled into her car, her driving and myself in the passenger seat with the other guys in the back. My fingers were itching to reach out for her, but I fought off the urge. No reason to give those idiots any more fuel. When we pulled into the place, I prepared myself for their antics, because where of all places does she take us? A sex shop.
They’re whooping and laughing in the back seat when they realize it and even she giggles a bit. “Alright, get it all out now. I expect you to act like adults when we get in there. Got it?” She was trying to be stern, but her unsuccessfully-stifled giggles weren’t helping. It was infectious and I cracked a smile as well.
“Good luck with that,” I commented as I got out of the car.
We went inside and she got the clerk to help us with the boots while she looked out for a few other things to pull the costumes together. It went surprisingly smoothly and we met her at the checkout where she pays for it all. I let the other guys go ahead of me, but I pulled her off to the side.
“Have you been paying for all this?”
“Yeah. I mean, Nikki put me in charge of costuming.”
I must have looked as furious as I felt, because she was suddenly standing up straighter and placed her hands on my cheeks with concern on her face. “Mick, what is it? What’s wrong?”
“You’ve been paying for everything out of your own pocket! I’m guessing without help?!”
“Wait…No. Mick, look at me. Nikki and I pooled some of our savings together. Tommy and Vince threw in some too and we opened a bank account for the band. We didn’t ask you, because you’re paying child support.”
My eyes shot to hers for a second before looking away again. I quietly replied, “They weren’t supposed to tell you about that.”
“Yeah, well they were supposed to tell you about the account. What are we going to do with our children, dad?”
Something stirred in me, hearing her call me that. It surprised me that I would react like that, but I pulled her flush against me, letting her feel how hard I was getting. “Screw the kids, say that again.”
“What? Dad?” She asks, sounding confused at first, but then her eyes lit up as the dots connected in her mind and she leaned her head a little to the side so her lips just grazed my ear. “Or would you prefer “Daddy?” She pulled back, looking up at me with innocent eyes and started to back away.
A low growl escaped me at the game she was playing and I managed to hook my fingers through her belt loops before she could turn around to escape. “Oh, no you don’t, Princess.” I tugged her back to me and she gasped when our hips met but there’s a loud honk from her car before I got the chance to kiss her. The trio of idiots were staring straight through the shop’s glass windows from outside at us.
“Get a room!” came their collective cheer.
“I’m gonna kill them.”
“No, you’re not.”
I grumbled under my breath and she shot me a look that told me it would be better for me if I didn’t. “Fine. I won’t.”
She put the bags in the trunk and we headed back to the apartment. The guys and I practiced some more while she locked herself in her unit again to tirelessly work on putting the costumes together. She came back up a little after lunch with her arms full of red and black pleather, one of the boot boxes and a small sewing kit. She handed the pleather material and boots to Nikki before shooing him off to go try it on.
***
Reader’s POV
Nikki took the pile from my arms so I could take the sewing kit. His face lit up, like a kid being given his first present on Christmas, and he ran off to his bedroom. I paced around the front room of the apartment waiting for the bassist to come out. I almost sighed in relief when he finally did with a serious look on his face.
“How does it fit?” I asked, sounding as nervous as I felt.
“Like a fuckin’ glove, man! This is awesome!” He enthused, now cracking a smile and turning for all to see the outfit, front and back before coming up to me and giving me a bear hug.
I laughed and returned the hug. “Are you sure it fits ok?
“Yes, stop worrying! I promise I love it!”
“Ok…if you’re sure. Do you want to keep it here, or do you want me to hold onto it?”
“It’s probably better if you hang on to the costumes. They might get ruined here.”
“Alright. Go change back.”
“Am I next, dude?” Tommy asked, practically bouncing on his feet.
“No. Yours is last because it’s the easiest.”
“Aww, man! Wait, shouldn’t Mick’s be the easiest? His is all black, dude!”
“It might be all black, but I had to sew a damn jacket! Sounds easy, right? It’s not.”
“Oh…damn, dude.”
I turned to the singer, “Vince you’re up.”
The man jumped up from his seat and happily grabbed the outfit, giving it a look-over before trying it on “Sweet!” He comes out looking just as excited as his fellow bassist, “This is so awesome! Check me out, man.”
“And it feels alright? It’s not too tight or too loose or anything?”
Vince was a little busy running his hands over the material at first, but then answered me nonetheless, “You kidding? It fits great. We’re gonna be so badass! The chicks are gonna love it!”
The rest of the gang could agree on that matter, giving each other high fives. I smiled and let him know that I could hold on to it all for them. I gulped as I gathered the next outfit for Mick, clearly seeing the rest of the guys lurking over him like a group of vultures. The guitarist kept his cool and said nothing, aside from a slight grunt as he got up from the couch. He gave me a quiet expression of thanks and headed over the bedroom once Vince returned with his clothing and placed it on the table. Some minutes passed while he was changing and though so far there were no complaints, l still wondered if he was alright, or if he needed any assistance. After seeing him in pain like that, I was getting a little worried.
“Hey I need a little help here,” Mick notified.
I made my way towards the room, ignoring Tommy’s repeated attempt to get under my skin by commenting not to take too long. I knocked on the door, “Mick, are you decent?”
“Yeah, come in, just shut the door.”
The man was nowhere to be found after I closed the door and looked around. However my heart started to slam against my ribcage when he stepped out of the bathroom wearing his full ensemble, a big smirk across his face. The black on black look was absolutely perfect on him. The pentagram headband, the studded boots with the intertwining chains, the belts across his chest, the pleather, and the collar. Jesus Christ. The pleather and collar were too much for me. Minus the make up, he was so close to looking the way he did in my dream, the sinister and demonic creature that put me over the makeup table and took me for a ride. I wanted him, no I wanted nothing more than to let him have me anywhere]: pressed against the wall, letting him roughly pull down my pants so that I could spread my legs and he could taste me. Then grab me by shoulders, hurl me onto the bed, and beg for him to fuck me until I couldn’t walk. Still, the costume would get ruined and of course we would never hear the end of it from the idiot patrol.
“This is really cool, you really outdid yourself with this,” he remarked, walking closer to me.
It finally hit me, “You didn’t really need any help did you?” I asked, closing in the gap by hooking my finger in the ring of his collar, biting my lip as I stared deeply into those sparkling blue eyes. That must have done something to him, his breathing becoming a little shaken, and his eyes widening when I whispered to him, “Daddy...”
His pupils were suddenly dilated, blackness engulfing the pale irises. The next thing I knew, Mick held me very close to his body, his hands grasping my back. I tried to keep my sighs quiet as he kissed my lips, however I couldn’t help but let a squeal slip out when he deliciously devoured my neck with his mouth. The heat from our bodies only increased when he pressed me against a wall, his kisses becoming hungrier by the second as my own hands tugged at his raven black locks.
“Mick, oh Mick...” I whispered.
However reality had reared its ugly head back into the frame when we heard banging from the other side, “Hey! Quit fucking around you two!” Tommy wailed. “Come on, that’s our room!”
Mick shouted back, “Fuck you, you fucking teenager! Open those legs, Princess. Daddy needs you-”
“No, no Mick. Please not now, it’s not a good time. Not with those three right outside the door.”
He was clearly frustrated but took his hands off of me, groaning ast he backed off. Still, I wanted him just as badly, so I thought of a different alternative as I clicked the door shut, lifted up my shirt, and pulled down my bra, “Mark me then, please Daddy.”
Without hesitation, Mick immediately held my breasts and pressed his lips to my skin. He was gentle at first, looking at me to see if I was enjoying the feeling of his mouth. I could feel the pulsations between my legs increasing as I whispered his name. I gasped when he took a nipple and suckled on it with ease, but I needed more from him. No sooner did I settle my hand onto the back of his head that he increased the speed of his sucking. His lips were wet, creating a very moistened sound that invaded my ears. He switched over to the other side and did the same, biting down a bit and moving his head back until my sensitive bud was released from his ivories. The sounds of Tommy’s knocking had completely drowned out as he pleasured me with his mouth and I moaned loudly. I couldn’t stop watching the way he pleased me, feeling my panties getting soaked, especially when I saw the fresh blemishes and crescent marks that were upon my chest. I was nearly there and so was he, yet he had to stop for both our sakes.
He gave each breast one gentle kiss and one little lick to my nipples, he leaned into my ear and growled, “You took that like a good girl, Princess. But Daddy doesn’t want to ruin all your hard work.”
I was in a trance as I responded back instinctively, “Thank you Daddy.”
@nature-and-music @lady-jane-revisited @mickmarstookmyheart @sophiazeppelinchick
#mick mars x reader#mick mars smut#mick mars fanfiction#mick mars fanfic#motely crue#motley crue fanfiction
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Take my trash! I forget where I put the actual requests for this one, but I have had many from both Wattpad and Tumblr for this next installment of 28 years.
Here you have it, pregnant with Alluka!
Warning; ANGST, mentions of adult themes from 28 years, pregnancy complications, cute moments with infant Killua and Alluka, Killua is the unsung hero we never knew we needed, maternal struggles, lactating
You woke up late at night, feeling your stomach rolling in pain and that feeling of being sick rising up in your throat. You were quick to wiggle out of Silva's relaxed grip and immediately headded directly for the toilet, almost gagging as you went.
To say it was an unpleasant way to wake up would be an understatement, as if you body were rejecting everything you had ever given it. You were faintly aware of the feeling of someone holding your hair away from your face as your poor body shook with great force. Once you finally felt your stomach settle once more you pulled away, feeling a large hand gently rub your back.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know... Just felt so sick so suddenly... You don't think it could be- but I thought I wasn't able to after Killua... And it's so soon after..."
"I doubt you're pregnant again."
"... And if I am?"
"(Y/n), I refuse to lose you for any reason. You almost killed yourself being pregnant with Killua. I don't think your body can honestly handle another pregnancy so soon."
"But..."
"If you are pregnant again, your body will likely reject it or you'll lose the child early on. You know this. You're already in such a delicate state when you're pregnant, adding another one so soon after giving birth would be the worst decision."
"I... You're right. I don't think I can handle it again so soon."
Silva almost seemed pleased at your agreeing with him, grabbing mouthwash for you to get the terrible after-taste out of your mouth. He gently helped you to your feet and held you steady, making sure you were alright minus the sudden sickness.
You didn't want to admit he was right, but you knew it to be true. Your body already tries to reject any pregnancy you have and with how exhausted and beaten you feel after having Killua, you couldn't imagine going through it again immediately after. You would have to do everything you could to cancel the pregnancy early on, before you felt too attached to the life growing inside of you.
A soft whimper came from the room you had been sleeping in just moments ago, hearing the whine develop into an upset cry. All of the noise and movement must have woken Killua from his peaceful sleep. He was only a month old and you still had more time to cherish him before he would be taken away to be trained as your other sons had been.
You made sure to move quietly and gently, lifting the small boy from his crib and cuddling him securely in your arms. His whimpers quieted as you held him, slowly swaying ans humming to the small child to get him settled once more. His bright blue eyes blinked open to look at you as he stopped crying, his soft white hair ruffled slightly and just made him look cuter with his disgruntled expression.
"Shh, little one. You're okay. You look just like your father when you frown like that..."
The infant merely gave a tired grunt and cuddled back down into his swaddling, eyes closing as you carefully returned him to his cradle. Warm arms wrapped around your body and held you close to a firm chest, slightly soothing you. Silva had been surprisingly supportive of your maternal need to care for the infant and had actually started to behave like a father would towards the young child.
You let him lead you back to bed, returning to the warm blankets that seemed extra inviting at that moment. As you settled down once more, Silva's chest at your back as he held you close, you were content to drift off to sleep. That is, until you felt a hand slowly trailing down your front.
"... I swear, Silva. If you're about to try and fuck me right now with our son in the room, you're going to have a bad time."
"It's not like you don't enjoy it."
A sigh of irritation left your lips, feeling his hand slide ever so slightly lower. Enough was enough and you wanted to sleep, so you turned your head and bit down directly on his arm. There was a beat of silence before you heard the softest of laughs rumble from his chest.
"Alright, you've made your point. I'll let you rest... For now."
Releasing his arm from your jaws, you turned back to rest your head against the pillow. You didn't break skin, but you certainly left a clear mark behind on his fair skin. A small bit of pride bubbled up in your chest at your small victory over the white-haired man as you let yourself get pulled back into sleep.
~~~~~~~~
At least two months had passed since your sudden evening sickness and no other signs of pregnancy had occured. Just to be on the safe side, you and Silva both decided to use certain birth controls to ensure you would not be carrying another child. It made you sad to think about at the time, but you knew it was for the best given all that had happened up until that point.
You thought all of those different foul tasting medicines had done their job and you wrote off your absent menstrual cycle as your body still recovering from being pregnant. However, when the second month came and left without your cycle, you were becoming far more concerned. When you brought it up to Silva, he reassured you that there was no possible way you could still be pregnant with all of the different contraceptives you had taken.
Now you were almost certain you were still pregnant, seeing your stomach slightly swell once more. But that shouldn't be possible given how thorough you had been early on to stop the pregnancy. You decided you needed outside opinion on the matter and made up some small excuse about your head hurting and wanting to be checked.
Naturally, Silva didn't question and almost immediately retrieved the kind doctor to check you for anything and everything. She explored every possibility and ruled out almost any kind of illness before she got to your stomach, noting the way your body had been reacting. As a precaution- despite Silva's insistence you were not pregnant- she decided to do an ultrasound of your stomach.
Sure enough, there was a small heartbeat in your body.
"..."
"..."
"... How the hell is it still there?"
"I guess all of those contraceptives didn't actually work."
"That's not possible."
"Hm, it would seem the little one disagrees with you."
"We're getting it out of you right now."
"No you damn-well aren't."
"(Y/n)-"
"Clearly the first attempt didn't work. If something is so determined to stay alive that it refuses all efforts to remove it, it should be allowed to live."
"For fuck's sake-"
"N. O. No."
"Damn it, (y/n)-"
"I said 'no' and I meant it!"
Silva let out a highly frustrated and irritated snarl, obviously beyond irritated with the sudden turn of events. Your kind doctor sat in silence as the two of you snapped at each other, trying to go unnoticed given how angry Silva was. The raised voices brought attention to the both of you as Zeno casually strolled into the room, eyebrow raised as he looked between you and Silva.
"What are you two snapping about now?"
"I won't let him get rid of our child."
"Killua is too young to start training."
"I'm not talking about Killua."
"... What?"
Zeno looked to be honestly surprised at your words, trying to make sense of what he was saying as he took in the ultrasound machine near you. The back and forth squabble had apparently woken Killua from his afternoon nap and the sudden entrance of his grandfather made him whine. The complaint from your young son had you moving to stand, only to be stopped by Zeno who picked up the squirming child and gave him to you.
There was certainly a fair part of you that appreciated your father in law, since he tended to take your side whenever an argument came up. He had to qualms about telling his son to be quiet or saying he was being unreasonable when he became too posessive or controlling of you. Not to mention the fact that Zeno had no qualms in telling Silva off or intentionally poking fun at his son on any given day.
"It's too soon for her to go through another pregnancy, especially after carving her stomach open for that brat."
"Well, you aren't wrong. It is probably too soon. (Y/n), what do you make of all of this?"
You hummed, soothing little Killua who lay in your arms and chewed on your fingers in fascination. You knew they were right, but you also knew that you wanted to give it a chance.
"We already tried once to end this pregnancy and that clearly didn't work. Something with a will strong enough to persevere despite any and all attempts to stop it should at least be given a chance."
Zeno nodded and gave a hum of contemplation, narrowing his eyes in thought. As the elder considered everything at hand, Killua decided you weren't paying enough attention to him and let out an ear piercing squeal, holding his hands up to you demandingly. It was hard to say he wasn't absolutely adorable even if he was a demanding and bossy little thing.
"Alright. Keep the child. But, if it begins to have too much strain on your body, it will be removed. Does that sound fair to the both of you?"
You wanted to argue that it was your choice even if you wound up dying, but you knew it would backfire on you, so you simply nodded. Silva also seemed as if he wished to argue before relenting and growling out in annoyance already frustrated due to your denying of his advances with Killua's presence in the room at night. This only added even more time he was unable to take you as he wished, growing increasingly irritated by the day.
~~~~~~~~
The more your stomach swelled, the more you wanted to just cuddle up with your growing family and enjoy the quiet. Silva, though liking your affection with him, still felt frustration gnawing at his mind the longer he spent unable to indugle in his desires. There was little he wanted more than pinning you to the bed and satisfying his growing need for you. He was halfway tempted to do it regardless of the pregnancy or how you felt, but he kept himself contained, counting down the days until he could do as he wished.
There were still days that he was unable to resist holding you close and just feasting on the sweet milk you produced. It was barely enough to tide him over and keep himself from jumping you.
The words that would best describe his behavior was a tiger in a cage, anxiously pacing and growling out his frustration. You almost wondered what was in store for you as soon as you were finally without child. Some part of you hoped he would be merciful, but you also figured that would never happen, especially with how pent up he would be come the end.
The gentle heat that came from Silva helped you relax as you rest your head against his chest, Killua was napping and you almost felt like you wanted to do the same. Silva's large hands gently supported your swollen stomach and took the pressure off of your back, allowing you to cuddle close to the intimidating man. His gaze seemed distant as he stared down at your stomach, callused hands gently sliding over your soft skin.
His eyes suddenly moved from where they were resting to look at you with a raise eyebrow, making a small squeak of surprise escape your lips. A slight smirk pulled at his lips, one of his hands gently resting on the back of your neck as he pulled you into a deep kiss. A soft whimper whined from your throat as he slid his tongue in between your lips.
You pulled away from the intense kiss, panting lightly from the sudden show of affection. His blue eyes seemed almost hazed with need as you found yourself pinned beneath him on the plush couch. Your heart thundered in your chest as you pressed back against him, turning your head to the side.
"Stop, Silva!"
"I don't think you can make me."
"Stop it!"
He seemed like he was lost in whatever haze had been taking over his mind before a sudden shrill screech broke him out of his lustfilled gaze. You turned your head to look back at where the noise had originated, stunned to see Killua standing at the doorway, holding onto the door-frame. Somehow he must have gotten out of his crib and opened the door to get to where he now stood.
You were amazed that this child, this infant, was not only able to escape his crib, but was currently standing and staring at the two of you. Silva seemed to regain control of himself as he moved away, letting you get up from where you had been pinned to the couch. The moment you sat up, your little five month old walked to you as if it were the most normal thing on the planet.
Typically, infants began trying to walk at around 7-8 months old, and even then they would need something to hold onto in order to balance properly. Not this kid apparently. If there were ever a sign your little Killua was different from other children, it would be this.
As he reached your side, he held up his arms in a demanding way towards you, clearly wanting to be picked up.
He gurgled at you and started chewing on his fist, watching you closely. You were about to say something as Silva jealously wrapped an arm around you only for Killua let out another screech. You wanted to smile as Killua clearly did not like it when Silva touched you, already showing how much he favored you over his father.
You silently thanked the child, pleased that he had snapped Silva out of his aggressive and forceful behavior. At least you knew your children were on your side.
~~~~~~~~
It was a month before your due-date but Silva was already stressing. He would pace and constantly check in on you, making sure to have any and all possibilities in mind. There would be absolutely no repeat of your prior pregnancy and he was determined to not leave your side for a single moment.
He had taken to pacing around you at almost all hours other than the the ones he spent holding you in his arms. Nothing seemed to be able to soothe him and you found yourself speaking softly to him and telling him everything was alright even though you were the pregnant one.
At least you had some semi-stable company, Zeno sitting with you and watching his son pace as you absently listened to the large television and whatever was on it. You were surprisingly comfortable despite everything that had been going on. Today was the day your eight-month old was being taken away.
You were upset with how early it was and Silva himself almost tried to stop his father from coming to collect the child. Though it saddened you, you also knew that it would be hard to deal with your final month of pregnancy and take care of your eight-month old child at the same time. Besides, Zeno wanted to start training Killua earlier than the others given how quickly the child picked up walking and language comprehension.
At least Zeno decided to stay with you for a few hours instead of just taking Killua away, letting you adjust to the idea of your son leaving your side. You were thankful for the few extra moments with your son, content to sit and relax among the other family members.
A faint uncomfortable feeling hummed in your mind, making you frown and try to move around to a more comfortable position. But no matter where you moved and no matter how you tried to settle back down, that annoying feeling persisted. Unfortunately, Silva seemed hyper aware of every move you made, so when you slightly winced from the growing irritation in your body, he was by your side immediately.
"Tell me how you're feeling, you don't seem all that comfortable right now."
"I'm fine, just a bit tired..."
"Are you certain?"
"Yeah. I'm certain. Still at least a month away from my expected date, so we have-"
You cut off, feeling that small ache turn into a sharp pinch that suddenly stabbed at you, like a needle being jabbed into a water balloon. You practically felt all of the color drain from your face as you suddenly rest your hand on your stomach.
"... Silva?"
"Yes?"
"I think I need to see a doctor now."
"Wait, why-?"
"RIGHT NOW, SILVA."
The sudden urgency in your voice spurred both men into action. Zeno quickly moving from his seated position, setting Killua aside in the small play-pen before helping you to lay back against the couch. Silva was out the door seconds after the words left your lips, racing off to round up anyone and everyone you would need.
You figured he wouldn't take you with him and would just lead the doctors to you since there were so many things that could go wrong, he didn't want to risk moving you. It was still so early, so why did your water break so suddenly?
~~~~~~~~
You were exhausted and wanted little more than to sleep after a long eighteen hours of being in labor. Eventually, after the immense pain you were in, doctors decided that you would need to have a c-section to ensure both your safety and the safety of the infant. Why they didn't come to this conclusion earlier even though you had Killua in a similar way, you didn't know.
At least you were able to rest now. You partially wanted to stay awake to be able to hold your newborn, but thee fact of the matter was, the child was born prematurely. Naturally, all sorts of precautions had to be taken to ensure that your newborn would live, so you didn't argue too much. You'd rather your baby be safe even if you weren't allowed to hold them.
"Any thoughts about names?"
Your gaze slowly drifted over to the location of the voice, seeing Zeno looking up at Silva, hands behind his back. He likely thought you were already asleep, given the ordeal you had just gone through. Silva hadn't named any of your children up until that point so you wondered what he would respond with, if he responded at all.
"No idea."
"Come on, Silva, you must have at least one name in mind."
"... Alluka?"
"That's the first time you've come up with a semi-decent name."
You let out a tired chuckle, appreciating the flat tone Zeno used whenever chastising Silva. A large hand gently held your own and you tiredly turned your head to look at Silva, who gently kissed the back of your hand, all previous conversation forgotten. For a moment, you hoped things were going to be alright, and you let yourself drift to sleep with Silva's deep baritone voice as your lullaby.
~~~~~~~~
Several months had passed being allowed to croon and fuss over the infant, adoring the black-haired, blue-eyed child. It seemed as if your sweet Alluka never ran out of energy and always had a smile no matter what. Only rarely did the infant ever cry and was easy to soothe the few times it happened.
Silva wanted little to do with the newborn, but still entertained any time his darling asked questions or spoke in such a cheerful tone. At least she was alright. If anything, she seemed to be better than alright.
Silva watched as his darling angel fell asleep, her body curled on the couch around the mass of blankets where the infant slept. He was getting tired of sharing his (y/n) with the infant and frustrated with how often (y/n) pushed away his advances. He was her husband, he should have the right to all of her attention and not be forced to share her with anyone.
It was still early on, but Silva figured she had enough time with the parasite and she would get over her sorrow if he took it away.
He silently slipped his hands beneath the sleeping infant, lifting it away from the curled up woman who peacefully slept. Moving silently, Silva left the cluster of rooms with the infant in his arms.
~~~~~~~~
Slowly waking up, you moved carefully to not disturb the child in your arms, turning your head to look at the mass of blankets. Your heart made a hollow thump when you saw the empty space your baby once lay in.
In seconds, you were on your feet, searching through every room for any sign of your lost infant. How could your little one wander off without you noticing? You turned over every piece of furniture, every blanket in the rooms, searched every corner, but there was still no sign of your lost infant.
You stood in the middle of the main room, arms wrapped around yourself as you desperately sucked down breaths as your chest tightened up. You felt like you couldn't breathe and your panicked gasps became wheezing and strained, evolving into what was a continuous crying wail of pain and desperation.
You heard the door open suddenly, but it did nothing to stop or distract you from your long mournful cry. You held your arms close to your body and your voice hitched with every small breath you took, feeling as if the world were falling out from underneath you. Large hands gripped your shoulders, one coming up to grip your chin and tilt your head back, only straining your already shallow breaths.
"(Y/n), what's wrong?"
"..."
"(Y/n), tell me what is wrong."
"..."
"Damn it, say something!"
"You took Alluka, didn't you?"
"... (Y/n)-"
"You took my baby!"
Though he said nothing further, only allowing his grip on you to go slack. You knew you were right. You knew he had taken your child from you while you were resting. You felt your breathing become even more strained as you gripped your chest over your heart, feeling your body swaying and shaking. An old voice reached your ears, but it did not soothe you, nothing but the soft babbling of your child would be able to.
"Silva, what on earth-? Ah, I see she isn't too pleased about Alluka."
"He took my baby..!"
"Wait, did you not know the child was leaving today?"
"He told me nothing...! He took my Alluka while I was sleeping..!"
"Silva, you told me she was okay with you taking him!"
"He told me nothing..!"
Your shaking had not stopped, if anything it only became more intense and your breathing more unstable. It felt like your heart was desperately working to beat and keep you alive, but it felt like it was being crushed by the muscles around it. You heard Zeno say something more to Silva, but you couldn't make out the words, feeling like all of your senses were leaving you.
"..?"
"(Y/n)..?"
You don't know when your legs gave out beneath you, but in seconds you were falling, barely able to see through your own eyes. It was as if you were fading away, but you didn't know why. There was no sound beyond that of your tiny shallow breaths before those too faded away into the empty void.
~~~~~~~~
"What did I tell you about taking her children away from her!?"
Silva just glared out of the corner of his eyes at his father, not saying anything in response. For a moment, it looked like Zeno was about to say something before his attention suddenly snapped over to (y/n), who had been quietly sobbing. Silva also looked back at his wife, his eyes widening slightly when he saw just how pale she had become, as if the blood under her skin had gone still.
"(Y/n)..? (Y/n)?"
Silva softly called out to the woman, trying to rouse her from whatever it was that had made her look so lifeless. Then he realized something, she was barely breathing. Her tired eyes gazed at a far away place before her body lurched and began to fall backwards. He was quick to catch her before she hit the ground, but something was wrong.
His angel's eyes had closed and her breathing had ceased. He checked her pulse only to realize there wasn't one, her heart wasn't beating. He didn't think, he simply just acted, beginning to put pressure on her fragile rib cage. Each steady and rapid pulse of pressure made her body slightly react as he desperately worked to get her heart beating again.
He wanted to scream in frustration each time she didn't revive before an arm began pulling him back, other hands reaching out for his angel. He fought against the firm grip as more hands seemed to join the first, forcefully pulling him away from his love. He fought to break free and was snarling in rage the closer those hands got to his darling, not wanting them to touch her soft skin.
A firm pressure on the back of his neck slowed his movements before stopping them all together, his eyes still staring and hand still reaching desperately out to his darling as his vision went black.
~~~~~~~~
"Well, this is just one big cluster fuck."
Maha growled out as he looked between the unconcious family. Luckily, it didn't take long for doctors to get (y/n)'s heart beating again despite the heart-attack she had endured as a result of her infant being stolen. Silva was still in a deep unconscious state from the forceful suppression of his nen. The both of them lay on the same cot in their unaware states, as Zeno and Maha knew the uproar Silva would cause if he woke without his darling (y/n) by his side. Alluka lay in peaceful slumber in his mother's arms, swaddled carefully and securely.
Zeno was still furious with Silva for not only taking the child away too early for the second time, but for doing so without (y/n)'s knowledge. But that fury was surprisingly outweighed by the pity he felt for his son. The sheer broken and miserable cries Silva had let out were not only a foreign noise, but one Zeno had never heard from his son before. It was like everything in the world had shattered into tiny fragments, leaving behind a broken and empty shell of his son.
He would never admit it to anyone, or even bring it up around Silva, but he saw true tears of agony in his son's bright blue eyes. He had seen Silva in a frazzled state, in a despondent state, and even a mournful state, but he had never seen such a shattered spirit like what he saw in Silva. As if every passing second (y/n) did not draw breath was pulling more and more of Silva away each time.
The man he had trained to be a ruthless and cold assassin crumbled into a terrified and lost soul. So filled with pain, so filled with agony, even he would not wish it upon his worst enemy. To see his son- a strong and steady man- crumble away into a broken shell so quickly was something that would haunt him for the rest of his days.
He would say that Silva brought it upon himself with the actions he had taken, but even that would be unfair. There is little more unsettling or sad than seeing someone with such a strong will become no more than a fragile whimpering shell.
Silva was the first to stir from his unaware state, his eyes were empty and dull. He truly seemed as if all the life in him had been ripped out like the stuffing of a toy. As his gaze slowly drifted, there was a sudden revitalization of energy when he saw (y/n) laying next to him.
He immediately had his hand upon her neck, checking for the pulse he feared wouldn't be there. As if a great weight had been lifted from his chest, he let out a long sigh of relief the second he found the soft pulse. He didn't seem to realize that he had an audience, merely enraptured with the moment.
He protectively wrapped his arms around both his darling lover and his young infant, holding them close and refusing to let either go. (Y/n)'s vacant expression became a vague smile as she slowly seemed to curl into Silva's arms, holding her baby between them protectively.
Zeno would deal with his son and the clear poor decision making later, for now he let the family rest in quiet comfort together.
At least they were all still alive. That, he could work with.
#x reader#yandere#female reader#yandere x reader#fem reader#reader insert#silva#yandere silva#yandere silva x reader#tw yandere#tw pregnancy
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Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020
Day 5: Overprotection
Disclaimer: Dick was adopted when he was 12 in this fic. Just for math’s sake.
—*—*—*—*—*
“What.”
Damian stared at his father, face carefully blank. Bruce grimaced, shifting.
“I said, you have a half sister. Biological.”
Four sets of eyes bored into him, from all of his sons. They were gathered not in the Batcave for once, but just one of the sitting rooms in the Manor.
“... and what, Father, does that have to do with the French class visiting Gotham?” Damian asked again, posture steadily growing stiffer and more and more stone like. He was trying hard to suppress emotions, but not even he was quite sure what those emotions were yet. Anger? Fear? Resentment? Probably. He might have detected some excitement there too, deep, deep down. Bruce took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for this.
“Well. I’ve kept up with her life, but last time I checked she had no idea that she was adopted. When her birth mother died, it was right around the time I adopted Dick. She was still an infant, and I knew I was not equipped to handle taking care of a baby—“
“Father,” Damian interrupted again. “You sent her off. Have her up for adoption,” he said slowly, as if realizing that that would have been his fate had his father known about his existence earlier, as well. It was almost ironic, considering how Bruce seemed to have a problem with adopting other children nowadays. Bruce nodded.
“She was adopted by a couple in France. Paris, to be exact. I’ve kept up to date, asking them to just send me a letter or email once or twice a year about the general stuff she’s been up to. Nothing too invasive. A few pictures. And last time I asked them, they said that she had no idea about being adopted or that I was her father,” Bruce sighed again, running a hand over his face. “But I think she does.”
“Why?” Jason asked, confused as everyone else to the change in subject. Except Tim and Damian, who seemed to be quickly connecting the dots.
“Oh boy,” Tim breathed. Bruce just nodded.
“Her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She is the one who organized the trip for her class to come here, to Gotham. She is the one who entered and won our international internship competition, and turned that into an excuse to get her entire class to come here for two weeks. To get to know the place she will be living for her internship next year, after she graduates Lycee, France’s version of highschool essentially.”
Tim winced. He had been in charge of the internship competition, and Bruce had given him free reign. He had chosen the winner without even thinking to run it by his adoptive father.
“Bruce—“ Tim tried, but the man just held up a hand.
“I don’t blame you. I haven’t been paying too much attention to her life, and I didn’t expect her to do something like this. But we know now that, if she does know and this isn’t a giant coincidence,”
“Unlikely,” Dick agreed, wincing. “Possible, but unlikely.”
Bruce huffed in agreement. “Then, we know she is very resourceful, determined, and has skills that impressed Tim enough to choose her out of tens of thousands of contest participants worldwide.”
“The minimum requirement for a Wayne,” Damian finally managed to bite out, still coping with this proverbial slap in the face but doing his best to handle it. He was seventeen damn it, and had come a long way from who he used to be. He could handle this. He could. He would.
Bruce rolled his eyes, and then leaned forward with his hands braced on the table. “Okay. So now we need to make plans.”
“Plans?” Jason asked, frowning. “For how you’re gonna tell her without getting your faces plastered over every tabloid in the city right?”
“No,” the older man shook his head. “Plans to keep her alive, unharmed, and unaffiliated with us until she leaves. I will not be making any public appearances unless absolutely necessary, so trips to the Tower are out of the question—“
“Are you…” Jason’s eyes were wide. “Trying to keep her out of our Shitshow? Because yeah, kudos to you even if it took you way too long to learn, but if she went through all this trouble to come here then it's probably too late.”
Dick nodded. “If she’s anything like you and Damian, there’s no way she’ll back off easy. Avoiding her will only make it worse on you, and probably the rest of us too.”
Damian stared straight into his father's eyes, glare sharp and searching. “What is this about, Father? You have not worried this much about any of us—“
“Because none of you were as naive!” He barked, quickly catching himself and taking a breath. “You all had a way you could benefit from this life. A way I could help you. But Marinette has both of the parents she has known her whole life, they treat her wonderfully. They care. She’s never had to worry about constantly moving, or fighting, or going hungry. The only deaths she has ever experienced have been from afar and due to natural causes. She designs as a hobby and has no problem with socializing or handling emotions in a healthy way— introducing her to our life holds no benefit for her. The only thing it can give her is unnecessary danger and risk and secrets.”
“Yeah, well. I guess Batman doesn’t know everything, does he?” A new voice startled them all from the doorway, making everyone's head whip over to see who had managed the near-impossible and snuck up on all of them.
Standing there, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, was a short part-Asian woman in her late teens. Her midnight black hair was cascading down her back in one thick braid, tied off at the end with an indigo ribbon. Her eyes were a piercing cobalt blue, matching those of Bruce perfectly. Her jaw was clenched, and the infamous Bat-glare coming from her was directed right at the person who made the expression infamous in the first place.
“Marinette,” Bruce breathed, shoulders squaring. “Your plane isn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow.”
“It won’t,” she agreed. “I took a portal here. You see, my extensive research into Batman’s known habits and tactics, which I started after I figured out about your alter ego last year, informed me that you tend to go to the extremes to protect people you deem incapable of protecting themselves, and are also prone to idiotic self-sacrificing behavior in the form of purposely making yourself look like an ass.”
Jason chuckled. “She’s got you down to a T, B,” he quipped with a grin despite the caution still in his eyes. “But let’s back up a bit, little Spitfire. What’s this about a portal?”
Marinette pushed off the doorframe, walking closer to the scattered group. Tim and Jason were spread across one sofa, Damian on the other with Dick, and Bruce was occupying an armchair. Marinette just walked until she stood where she could easily be seen by everyone, but also had nobody at her back.
“The portal is part of a bigger story. Like, the fact that father dearest wanted to protect me so badly that he placed the JLE in Paris, but didn’t realize that relations with that branch were so bad that the JLE never informed him or the JLA about getting kicked out of France and reassigning themselves to Italy. Bruce never kept a close enough eye on the city, because he wanted to keep emotional distance, and therefore was completely blind to when a supervillain showed up and terrorized Paris for almost five years,” she continued, her glare never leaving Bruce’s face.
“I found out about being adopted when I was eight. I found out who my biological father was when I was thirteen. Last year, I finally put in the work to connect Bruce Wayne to Batman. And yeah, I never told Maman and Papan, because they have never completely understood me. They wouldn’t have understood that I was fine with having no contact with you, back then. That my snooping had nothing to do with being unhappy with them as my parents. They would have immediately assumed they were inadequate when I am merely curious by nature. But then I ended up being chosen to be one of the child heroes that fought said domestic terrorist that showed up five years ago. And I sure as hell couldn't tell them that a magical artifact showed up on my desk one day and that the god inhabiting it told me to fight the monsters the villain made and just, just go with it. I couldn’t tell them when I went from being one of two Parisian heroes to being the leader of a team. I couldn’t tell them when my elderly mentor, unable to fight by our side but who had at least provided emotional support and knowledge, passed away and gave me his title and responsibilities. I’m sick and tired of being protected, Monsieur Wayne,” Marinette didn’t seem to notice the tears that had begun to fall.
“I’m sick of it. I know you were trying to keep me safe, but I fought a war I wasn’t prepared for. I died, thousands of times. But my own powers and the powers I have my partners brought me back to life. Over and over. I don’t need protection, damn it. I don’t need you to distance yourself, because you're the only fucking person I can call a parent who might understand,” she held out a hand, her scowl turning into a gentle smile. “I have so much I need to talk about. Before I drown under all these secrets. Please. I’ll go back through another portal before my parents notice I’m gone, but I’ll be back in town tomorrow when my plane lands. Just. Please, don’t push me away. That’s all I ask. I want to get to know you, all of you. I… I need family who understands.”
“Thousands.” Bruce repeated, all of them still recovering from Marinette’s very sudden, info-dumping speech. “You died… thousands of times?”
Marinette laughed, but it was a sad sound. No mirth there. “I gave my friend a magical artifact that reverses time, and the artifact that gives me my own powers can reverse any damage from a fight I use it in. Even death. Sending untrained teenagers to fight a villain three times their age makes some kind of failsafe like that kind of necessary.”
“Fuck,” Jason cursed under his breath. “Well. You’re welcome to join the living Zombie club,” he offered. The girl snorted, giving him a watery grin in thanks.
“I’m sure you know about my stance on powers and metas,” Bruce decided to say, wincing immediately after. That wasn’t what he meant to say. At all. He earned another brief glare for it.
“I’m not a meta, and I only have powers when I use the artifact to transform, thereby borrowing powers from the miniature god that the artifact houses. Think of it like doctor fate, but my gods are actually not parasites and my powers are much more… specialized. I had to learn combat on my own, and I was able to train in my sleep with the past users of this artifact. That includes people like Fa Mulan, Joan of Arc, and someone you actually know— Hippolyta. I’ve mastered more fighting styles by now than I care to remember, and I’ve done gymnastics since I was three. I don’t know if my parents told you that in their letters. I even won the gold in the nationwide France gymnastics competition two years ago. I assure you, I don’t rely on my powers nearly as much as you might think.”
Bruce swallowed. “I can… greet you when your class arrives.”
Marinette grinned. “Well, that’s a start.”
—*—*—*—*—*
Idk what happened, I don’t know if I like this at all but oh well. I’m posting it anyway. Maybe one of you will like it. I… couldn’t really find any other way to do this so oh well. Also, I think Mulan was a past Dragon..? But I put her as a Ladybug because I Can.
@momothefemur @ladybug-182 @starlightshield @trippingovermyfeet @greatcatblaze @sam-i-am-0222 @bluesimani @ruelukas22 @acoolspacegirl @iamablinkmarvelarmy @meme991001
#maribat#ml x dc#mlb x dc#b!dbwm2020#bio dad bruce wayne#platonic daminette#platonic brucinette#day 5#not my fave at all
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Hello if the request is still open. Could I get headcanons that if dante has a daughter how would she get along with dante, vergil and nero (post dmc5)? Thanks!
Hello! Just a heads up for the future! This was a very different type of request for me to write and next time I get a request like this in the future I'm not going to accept it! But I really hope you liked this one anyway!
Well, it's kind of a given that either way that she's going to be one; be a devil hybrid and going with the tread I'd say that she would hold the family trait silver hair, and two; have Sparda's blood through her veins which in turn makes her a dignified badass.
I would say that most likely that her mother would be a human making her a quarter demon just like Nero, and for the sake of this request I'm going to have her age be around Nero's.
His daughter would most likely work at the office, since you know 'family business' and all and would work on phone duty while her father's out on jobs and take in small jobs on her own just to try and keep the electric and water from getting shit off (dad just has a talent for not paying bills after all)
I'd say despite being the overgrown man child Dante is, he'd be a good dad. He's fun and super easy to hang around, but he can get awkward as hell when certain topics come up; ex dating/love advice, and if his s/o, Lady, or Trish is around he'll most likely push it off on them to deal with.
He does go on quite a few jobs that last him over a few days quite often, so I can see him taking her to Fredi's out to eat and have some quality father-daughter time. He also likes to take her on jobs (that he knows for a fact aren't world saving) with him and hunting together is another bonding exercise.
All of the awkward bad dad jokes. All of them.
He likes telling her stories about her grandmother and all of her teachings she taught him and Vergil, because he knows she would've been proud of the fine woman his daughters become like he knows he is.
Dante has told his daughter quite a few stories about Vergil over the years, nothing too specific in his death or ever mentioning his corruption at Mallet Island, but enough for her to know that her uncle was a stubborn asshole who lost himself in lust for power. So when it came time to meet him after he and her father returned from hell was...weird. She knew that her father and him were twins but seeing it in person was off putting, even if a normal person couldn't tell by just glancing at them, she can tell that even if one has clearly aged more than the other that they're still if fact identical deep down.
Vergil deep down feels really guilty after every he'd down up to the ending of 5 and he's made an attempt (keyword: attempt) to get a connection going with his family again, he made amends with his brother (though still sharing the rivalry) and is trying to get into his son's life, so of course he's going to try his best to at least get to know his niece but given this is Vergil and communication isn't exactly his strongest suit so it's going to take quite some time.
Vergil himself originally thought as V that Nero was Dante's son, so seeing his daughter for the first time isn't that shocking to him. What is shocking to him is how...nice she treats him. With her being Dante's spawn he would've expected her to be more - how would he put it? More like Dante's spawn? (Vergil please stop calling children spawn) But no, she's more calm and collective and even brings up a conversation about Blake's work with him from time to time and it completely baffles him to no end but deep down he really appreciates it.
Like most things, Vergil finds hunting to be where he feels his best so it's no surprise that in his 'connection attempts' that he goes on jobs with his niece. Going on jobs with Vergil is very different then going on jobs with Dante, she quickly comes to realize. On jobs with her father, they'd tend to stick together as a team and he'd show off all of his stylish skills just to show her that: "Her old man still got it." Vergil on the other hand tends to like going on jobs alone, and even the first few times when he has 'agreed' to let his niece tag along at first he always keeps his distance to do his own thing but he doesn't travel far enough so that he can still see what she's doing, she has the blood of Sparda after all so she should be able to impress him. But after they've bonding for a bit Vergil doesn't travel off as far, far enough so that both of them have their own proper battle space but close to where if need be he can quickly trick over if the chance if she is about to have a fatal call with a demon and he can come to her rescue. But from what he's learned about his niece is that she's learned what Dante has taught her by heart and is very skillful at what she does so instead they can have friendly banter with one another during these missions. Vergil is very proud of his niece.
Even though the thought confused the ever loving hell out of him that the old man somehow, Nero and Dante's daughter were friends before they found out they were cousins, they knew they were somehow related with Sanctus' confirmation to Nero during 4 but they never knew how far it went. At that time no one but Dante knew, and Lady would joke about Nero just being a kid that Dante forgot about or something but of course with Dante being Dante he chilled it out saying if he had another kid he would know about it and saying nothing about it further.
Nero would hang around the shop for a good while after the events of 4, still feeling lost and confused about how his whole life was a lie with the Order and wanting to get stronger with his inner demon to protect the most important person left in his life at that point; Kyrie. Speaking of which, Kyrie would also tag along to the shop feeling confused and lost as the brainwashing of the Order slowly would fade away as she grieved for her brother's life. I'd say this is where Dante's daughter would pitch in and try to help out the both of them the best that she can whether it be by training for hours with Nero or being a big emotional support and a shoulder to cry on first Kyrie, which all earns Nero's respect.
Because of that respect, during 5 she actually spent the whole game in Fortuna with Kyrie and the kids. Deep down she was so upset and angry at herself that her father's somewhere lost in that fucking tree Redgrave after seeing his defeat first hand when she went with Nero (who at the time she was visiting after Kyrie called her about Nero's lost arm) and that 'mysterious bastard' V. For the whole month she spent beating herself up over it, she knew her father wasn't dead; he defeated three demon overlords in his lifetime! Three! But seeing him actually fall to an enemy...terrified her. She'd wished to go back to Redgrave the agreed time but Nero asked her to watch Kyrie and the kids in his place and she just...couldn't refuse.
Nero's easy to make flustered and embarrassed and it's hilarious if you just make simple jokes about how dorky he gets around Kyrie like how he does that scratch/rubbing at his nose thing with a big dumbass grin on his face. Both Dante's daughter and Nico both enjoy flustering the shit out of him, and because of that Nico and her are good friends (and once she leaves Nico makes it very clear to Nero that his cousin is hot, which again gets Nero's goat)
Nero and Vergil of course still have a very rocky relationship even after 5 (which again understandable when your parent yanks off your arm and all) so since him and his cousin have a good relationship, he tends to go to her for advice, after all she's had her entire life with her dad and he's only had a dad for the last few months tops.
Either way this family might be hella dysfunctional, but I'd say she'd wouldn't rather have it any other way.
If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!
#devil may cry#devil may cry x reader#mine#dante sparda#vergil sparda#nero sparda#devil may cry headcanons
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layers (like onions)
Random idea of the day that wouldn’t leave me alone; this little future fic. And it’s not like we can’t all use some more Harringrove fluff, right? Can also be found over on AO3.
- - -
Sadie is having the absolutely worst first day at work, and the lunch rush isn't even over yet.
It had started with the fancy coffee maker spitting steam at her when she’d tried to show her new co-worker that she understood how to use it, burning the back of her hand and her wrist. Then the trash bag she’d been carrying to the dumpster out back had ripped, spilling all over her feet and the kitchen floor, so she’d spent fifteen minutes cleaning up while apologising profusely.
And to top it all off, her first table hadn’t tipped at all, even though Sadie had pulled out all the stops, been all friendly smiles and polite small-talk despite the total shitshow her morning had turned out to be.
Things don’t look much better with her current table, either.
So far, they’ve yelled across the restaurant for her when she hadn’t been fast enough with their drinks, demanded three additional baskets of the complimentary bread, one of them won’t stop making gross comments whenever she has to walk by, and by the look on one of the men’s faces right now, they aren’t happy with their food, either.
Forced smile firmly in place, Sadie approaches their table, ignoring the urge to roll her eyes when one of them clicks his fingers at her.
Before she can so much as ask what seems to be the problem, the scowling man snaps, “This burger has onions on it.”
“Yes, sir,” Sadie tries, summoning up patience only acquired through years of waitressing, “all our burgers come with tomatoes, pickles, and onions—”
“Well, I don’t like onions,” the man says, slowly, glaring up at Sadie. “I didn’t want any onions.”
“Of course, sir, I’m so sorry,” Sadie apologises, instead of demanding, like she really wants to, “Then why the hell did you order a dish with onions in it?”
(Watch out for the break!)
She pulls her notepad out of her pocket, quickly scribbling down an order for a replacement burger, and underlining the no onions three times. “I’ll put a new order in for you right away, sir. Would you like me to add a side dish as well? Free of charge, of course, as an—”
“No, no,” the man cuts in, and throws the burger he’d been holding down hard enough that it slips off his plate, and falls apart on the table. Which only appears to make him angrier. “Look at this mess. I want you to clean this up, and then I want to speak with whoever’s in charge here.”
The two other men nod, clearly not only used to their friend’s behaviour, but actively encouraging it. “Get to it, sweetheart,” one of them demands, making Sadie bite the inside of her cheek, “before all of our food goes cold.”
“Certainly, sirs,” Sadie scrapes the ruined burger off the table, waving over one of the busboys, “I’ll take care of this right away.”
Despite her words, after putting in the order for the new, onion-free burger, Sadie leans against the wall in the kitchen for a moment, breathing out heavily as she tries to compose herself. The line cook shoots her a sympathetic look, and Sadie smiles back shakily, grateful for the silent support.
Her boss’ office is one floor up, and Sadie isn’t too proud to sneak behind the bar, and make her way to the stairwell where she hopefully won’t be spotted by anyone from her table.
It’s quiet, once the door closes behind her, the voices of the guests and the sounds of the restaurant muffled, and Sadie swallows hard as she starts up the stairs. She’s seen her boss a grand total of thirty seconds so far, when he’d breezed in earlier, with a small child in each arm, a phone clutched between his shoulder and ear, and a frown on his face, while her co-workers had been showing her the ropes.
Mr Hargrove had been supposed to be the one to interview her, last week, but instead, Sadie’d been greeted by his business partner. He’d shaken her hand, smiling brightly, and introduced himself as, “Steven Harrington, but please, call me Steve, everyone does,” before explaining, all sheepishly, that Mr Hargrove was usually the one talking to the new hires, but that he’d unfortunately been called away on short notice.
He’d offered Sadie coffee, and had gotten her a glass of water instead when she’d declined, before dropping down in the swivel chair on the opposite side of the desk, picking up Sadie’s resume with a hum. “I’ll be honest, here, I don’t usually deal with this side of the business,” he’d said, chuckling a little to himself, “but if Billy’s invited you here for an in-person interview, chances are high he’s already decided to hire you. He can be picky.”
It had been said with a sigh, half annoyed and half fond. “So,” Steve had put the resume down again, and shrugged at Sadie, “if you’re still interested, and if the hours and pay you’ve talked about over the phone work for you, I don’t see a reason why you can’t start next Friday.”
Sadie had blinked at him, stunned, and then scrambled to sign the contract. Flexible hours, two free meals per shift, decent insurance, and paying slightly above minimum wage? It had been everything a struggling student like her could hope for, and then some.
Now, faced with the prospect of having to tell her boss that she’s screwing up on her very first shift, Sadie wishes she was anywhere but here. Still, she steels herself, takes a deep breath, and knocks on Mr Hargrove’s office door.
A moment later, a gruff voice calls back, “Come in.”
Mr Hargrove is sat behind his desk, one eyebrow raised, and Sadie hesitates, standing awkwardly on the threshold. The kids—definitely Mr Hargrove’s, going by their wild, curly hair—are playing on a blanket in front of the small couch, where Steve is sitting with a laptop open on his lap.
He smiles and waves at Sadie, which gives her the confidence to clear her throat, and say, “One of the guests would like to talk to you, Mr Hargrove.”
When Mr Hargrove only raises his eyebrow further, she adds, “He ordered a burger with onions, but says he doesn’t like onions. I offered him a new burger with a free side dish, but, well.”
“Fuck’s sake,” Mr Hargrove mutters, which earns him a scolding look from Steve, followed by a stern, “Language, Billy.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mr Hargrove says, with a small roll of his eyes. He gets up from behind his desk, gesturing for Sadie to lead the way. “C’mon, let’s go deal with this shit.”
He’s obviously not happy about the interruption, but Sadie’s glad to notice that his irritation seems to be aimed at the picky guest, not her. The cursing also helps, strangely enough, has her bite back a giggle as they walk back down to the main floor.
Mr Hargrove looks intimidating, at first glance, what with all the tattoos, the denim, and the heavy jewellery. Like those bikers always parked in front of the shady bar a block down from her shitty, shoebox-sized apartment. Only, like, prettier.
Sadie ducks her head a little, blushing faintly. Mr Hargrove has to be in his thirties, is almost old enough to be her dad, and Sadie isn’t even interested in men like that, but she does have eyes. The blond curls, piled into a messy bun on top of his head, the dimples, the striking, bright blue eyes; Mr Hargrove is definitely good-looking.
Frannie would have a field day if she knew Sadie was getting flustered by her old, cranky new boss. Sadie silently vows to never tell her girlfriend a single word about it, ever.
“It’s the booth in the back,” she says, once they reach the main room of the restaurant again, pointing in the general direction, “by the big window—”
Mr Hargrove freezes mid-step when he spots the three men, but only for a second. Then he sneers, teeth bared, “Hell no.”
He stalks over to the booth, fast enough that Sadie has to hurry in order to keep up, and slaps the fork right out of one of the men’s hand with a snarled, “Get the fuck out of my restaurant.”
The men at the table—and a few people within earshot—fall silent in shock, all gaping at Mr Hargrove. Then, the now forkless man pushes to his feet, and right into Mr Hargrove’s space. “William—”
Mr Hargrove doesn’t back down, though, and he has several inches on the other man. “Get out. Right now, all of you. You’re not welcome here.”
The other man’s face twists in outrage. “How dare you speak to me like this? You can’t throw us out, we’re paying customers!”
“Oh, trust me,” Mr Hargrove’s smile is, Sadie thinks, pretty damn terrifying, “I can. And I will.”
“On what grounds?” the other man scoffs, and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Well, let’s see. For harassing my staff,” Mr Hargrove begins, and holds up his hand, counting on his fingers, “or, maybe, the years of emotional abuse? For regularly beating the shit outta me for close to a decade? Or for just generally being a terrible fucking human being, and an even worse father?”
The restaurant is so quiet, after that, Sadie’s almost afraid to breathe.
“Take your pick,” Mr Hargrove finishes, and takes a step back with a sweeping motion towards the door. “But get the fuck out, Neil. Or we will call the police.”
“Honestly, I’d love to see that,” comes Steve’s voice from by the bar. He’s holding the phone, wiggling the receiver when everyone turns to look at him. “Your choice.”
“You—” Mr Hargrove’s father starts, but is wisely interrupted by one of his friends standing up as well, and putting a hand on his elbow with a disgusted, “Leave it be, Neil. The little faggot’s not worth the trouble.”
There are several gasps from the other customers, but Mr Hargrove seems unfazed. Almost amused, actually. “At least my faggot ass can keep a family together. Ginny was, wait, let me think? Wive number five? How’s the divorce going, by the way?”
“Okay, that’s enough!”
If Sadie’d thought Mr Hargrove looked scary, it’s nothing compared to an angry Steven Harrington, apparently.
“You’ve got one minute to get your shit, and get the hell out. Everyone else,” and now he’s all charm again, looking around the restaurant at the shamelessly watching customers, “free pie, for having had to witness this little display of homophobic bullshittery.”
Mr Hargrove takes it upon himself to escort the men out of the restaurant, while Steve goes around apologising for what’s happened. Sadie shakes herself out of her stupor, and follows Steve in order to jot down everyone who’s interested in the free pie.
Before she can head back to the kitchen, though, Steve stops her and asks, quiet enough that only she catches it, “Hey. Are you okay?”
“That was,” Sadie breathes out, then trails off with a helpless shake of her head.
“Not a great first impression on our part?” Steve chuckles, wry smile on his lips. “Why don’t you take a break? Get a slice of pie, too? We got it handled out here.”
Sadie accepts the offer gratefully.
And the pie is delicious.
“Billy’s a fuckin’ master with anything even vaguely dessert related, man,” the line cook tells her, when she moans around her first forkfull. At her hum of surprise, he laughs, and adds, “Yeah, he still does most of the bakin’, even though he’s the boss man nowadays. Ask him for his lava cake recipe, it’s fuckin’ sick.”
The rest of the day is, thankfully, much less stressful.
Sadie gets to leave on time, and slips out the back door with a cheerful, “Goodbye!” thrown over her shoulder, only to stumble to a stop when she nearly bumps right into Mr Hargrove. And Steve. Because they’re standing very close, with Steve’s arm around Mr Hargrove’s shoulders, and his chin resting on top of Mr Hargrove’s head.
Mr Hargrove blinks one eye open at her, but doesn’t move out of the hug. “You good? Sorry ‘bout, you know. All that shit earlier.”
“Oh, yeah, uh,” Sadie stutters, feeling herself blush again, “don’t worry, all good. Thanks.”
“Have a nice night,” Steve says, with another one of those sincere smiles. “See you tomorrow.”
Sadie nods. “Tomorrow. Goodnight!”
She carefully steps around the kids, who are racing each other through the alley, shrieking with excitement. She’s almost by the bike rack when there’s a crash, followed by a warbling cry, and a distinctly toddlery voice going, “Shit!”
“Billy, I swear—”
“C’mon, Stevie, it’s not my fault they—”
Sadie rides off, not bothering to hide her laughter.
(When she comes in the next day, Mr Hargrove is waiting for her. He apologises, again, and introduces himself properly.
“Billy, please,” he insists, grimacing a little. “Mr Hargrove is my father, and, well. You saw that whole shitshow yesterday.”
Then he shows her how to use the coffee machine without getting burned, before Steve calls for him from upstairs. He’s almost through the door when he turns back around, eyes flickering down to the collar of her shirt with a small but genuine smile.
Sadie watches him go, ghosting her fingers over the small rainbow pin Frannie had proudly stuck on her shirt earlier that morning.
She’s pretty sure she’s going to like this job after all.)
#stranger things#harringrove#billy hargrove#steve harrington#future fic#post canon#billy lives#homophobic language#neil hargrove's a+ parenting#myfics
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ok hear me out; the twins becoming infatuated with their postman. Like they’re only around once a week to deliver bills or personal letters but the twins r still head over heels for them nontheless. bonus points if the s/o is either oblivious or obviously doesn’t reciprocate
I loved this idea so much yet I was like: Oh no wait I have to write it, how do I write it?!?!
Thanks for requesting boo! I have to apologise for not only taking so long but for me procrastinating on answering you. I've been having a difficult time, that's all, thanks for your patience!
TW/Tags: pretty short // parents are just as crazy as their children, always remember that // I tried writing this so many times ;-; none of them ended on my liking // overprotective/helicopter parents // twins being spoiled children that don't know how to do jackshit- // errors here and there because again, this was kinda hard to come up with especially with bad internet connection and sicknesses-
🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭
The Package [Yandere!Bully OC x Reader - Headcanon]:
→ Adrien Coldwell:
Adrien is a mommy's boy, even if his sister is considered the popular one, he recognizes that his mother loves doing what he asks her. Of course, if he asks kindly enough-
And by that I mean he makes himself sound like a good kid despite the fact he is a grown ass man trying to get his mother to buy him stuff.
It's nothing much in his opinion, he just wanted to get a new shirt he found online from a YouTuber he likes. He may not be the most affectionate person out there yet he really wanted to support that guy, they're so cool to him…
Now, you might be wondering- How the fuck does rich people with their own careers ask money/gifts from their parents? Let me tell you how, they're grounded and won't be able to use their own money for at least a month or two (oh, the horror!? They can't waste money on stupid shit for a month-)
Both twins got themselves grounded for being childish and getting less than preferable grades, so neither of them could actually pay for their addiction to buy new things constantly.
And that's kinda where you fit on this story, dearest. You were accustomed to delivering mail around this rich neighborhood yet you never really interacted with the people around out of fear that maybe that one celebrity you find extremely sweet turns out to be a dick head. Not everyone that is rich or famous is bad, it's just that you don't want to risk it at all, yet you still wave and smile while going about your day.
It's really interesting how you never really interacted or seen a Coldwell in person. So many packages and mails to deliver them, yet every single time you looked around, you only found a couple of people that worked for them tending their garden, washing their cars, etc. This was the first time you actually saw one of them in person, you were kinda surprised to see the man in front of you.
You recognized him instantly, Adrien Coldwell, a male fashion model that is kinda popular with your friend group for some reason. I mean- You see the appeal, but, eh, you don't really care enough to actually see stuff about him, yet you do know some rumours of his generally antisocial behavior, which by the looks of it seems to be true.
He… Uhn, just stands there looking at you, like he is waiting for something or…. Or he doesn't know what to do. Although his expression is a literal straight face with wide eyes, you can see small glimpses of internalized panic written over his features. You waved at him to see if he would react by coming closer and picking the package from your hands.
However he got a little surprised by your waving, so he just waved back while coming closer awkwardly, as if he needed more clues from you so he could know what to do.
"- …. You seem really socially awkward." You ended up blurting out without thinking how embarrassed you could have made him feel.
"- I uhn-" He wasn't really sure what to say, he never really took the mail inside, normally he would wait for others to bring it in, yet his mother has only allowed him to buy something if he himself would be the one to actually sign it up, bring it inside and unpack it without someone else being payed to do so. Adrien bad-mouths people on a daily basis to their faces, yet he feels a little awkward whenever he is faced with taking responsibility for once and he feels embarrassed to come across as a child that was too overly protected to actually learn how to do certain things on their own.
You felt pity on him, thinking that maybe he was just socially anxious about interacting with people, so you taught him how the process goes and how simple it is. You were accustomed with teaching people this so you weren't really taken back by it.
While you were teaching him how easy the process was, he was thinking that you were just another peasant thinking too highly of themselves to be teaching him all this simple stuff he should be aware of by now. He felt ashamed of having to be taught by someone of his own age how to do something so trivial yet the way he decided to hide his embarrassment was by dismissing you as a commoner in his head. He didn't openly say that, but he did sign his name angrily, like a bratty child.
You said bye while you decided that you had spent way too much time on only one location, you needed to move quickly to your next delivery. He didn't say "bye" because while he was feeling overly emotional about such a common situation, he accidentally said "hi" instead.
You didn't hear what he said, yet he felt even more pathetic so he clutched his package and went back inside the mansion stomping his way in.
Even after that incident, he kept thinking about it over and over again. As if there was something about it that he needed to address so he could actually move on with his life. Yes, this is pure pettiness mixed with anxiety, but he would still justify it as "well, they're the ones that should know their place-".
Adrien decided that for that day onward he would keep pestering you whenever he could find you placing their bills inside their mailbox. It was surprisingly harder than he expected to know exactly when you come over to deliver the bills and packages, especially since your department insisted on substituting you with some random ass person from time to time.
You could say that, well…. The days where he was left waiting for you without you ever coming over were the worst ones. He did feel lonely in those days.
You never really reacted to his mean blunt comments, were you even aware of his intentions at all? Maybe you didn't want to react purposely, or maybe you only recognised that attitude as his way to communicate since you never stopped thinking he was really shy and awkward. You did hear rumours of him being pretty blunt and "too honest", so you treated it as a normal thing.
Your naivety was both alluring and repulsive. How can someone be so dumb and cute and wear THAT uniform-
Maybe… Maybe he is starting to catch a crush on you?? On YOU, the mailman. A commoner, a simpleton-
This is- Terrible! This is outrageous yet- I guess he simply can't help it, it feels right to have a crush on you, yet it feels so wrong to not know anything about you. But what can he do to know you more? Start working as a postman for the sake of having some time with you? Hah! Never-
But, hey… Maybe his parents could pull some strings, right? Maybe it would cost him a lot of effort, but something tells him that his mother would gladly help him find a way to bloom these feelings more appropriately.
→ Alexandra Coldwell:
Alexandra is a daddy's girl, even if she is considered the most popular of the two, she doesn't have that good of a relationship with her mother, but her father on the other hand will give her anything she asks if she makes a pouty pitiful face-
Her next big project involved getting sparkly rollerblades she found online. Yes, they were pretty tacky, but hey! Give her some slack! They were beautiful to her, okay??
Now, you might be wondering- How the fuck does rich people with their own careers ask money/gifts from their parents? Let me tell you how, they're grounded and won't be able to use their own money for at least a month or two (oh, the horror!? They can't waste money on stupid shit for a month-)
Both twins got themselves grounded for being childish and getting less than preferable grades, so neither of them could actually pay for their addiction to buy new things constantly.
And that's kinda where you fit on this story, dearest. You were accustomed to delivering mail around this rich neighborhood yet you never really interacted with the people around out of fear that maybe that one celebrity you find extremely sweet turns out to be a dick head. Not everyone that is rich or famous is bad, it's just that you don't want to risk it at all, yet you still wave and smile while going about your day.
It's really interesting how you never really interacted or seen a Coldwell in person. So many packages and mails to deliver them, yet every single time you looked around, you only found a couple of people that worked for them tending their garden, washing their cars, etc. This was the first time you actually saw one of them, you were kinda surprised to see the woman in front of you.
You do know about the rumours surrounding the Coldwells about them being pretty outspoken and being extremely social people, yet you couldn't really confirm that fact since the woman standing in your presence hasn't even looked at you directly ever since you came closer to her home.
She did wave at you, although the smile she gave you was kinda fake. As if she was holding her laughter or something, you aren't so sure of what she could be laughing about though.
You instantly recognized her, miss Alexandra Coldwell, the female fashion model that you heard about because your friends are a bunch of simps- I mean, you do see why, but- I don't know, you're not here to drool over her, you're here to give her the package in your hands.
Alexandra kept tapping her foot and looking at each side as if she was waiting for someone while you stayed still, awkwardly waiting for her to catch the fact you're standing there.
It takes her some time to acknowledge your presence and remember exactly why she was standing there in the first place. She was kinda hoping someone else would pick her mail for her, so that's why she kept waiting for so long. Alexandra forgot her dad made her promise she would be the one to take it inside instead of calling a "servant" to pick it for her, oops.
"- Oh! Oh…." She suddenly realized that not only and her been waiting someone to instantly help her, but she was now being obligated to interact with you, a peasant-
"- Oh well…. Uhn, hi- How are you today?" She asked while trying her best to sound confident and not at all bothered by that ugly ass uniform your department gave you-
You interpreted that maybe she wasn't expecting you? Eh, either way you gave her the package after asking her to sign her name, and then went back to your usual day.
Although it was the most normal and simplest of interactions she ever had, Alexandra was dumbfounded by how simple it was, it's funny how a person as old as her still struggles with these common things due to either social anxiety or not the greatest parenting growling up.
Still, she felt kinda humiliated to be taught how to do such a simple task as taking the mail by someone wearing a ugly uniform-
Even after that incident, she kept thinking about it over and over again. As if there was something about it that she needed to address so she could actually move on with her life. Yes, this is pure pettiness mixed with anxiety, but she would still justify it as "well, they're the ones that should know their place-".
Alexandra decided that for that day onward she would keep pestering you whenever she could find you placing their bills inside their mailbox. It was surprisingly harder than she expected to know exactly when you come over to deliver the bills and packages, especially since your department insisted on substituting you with some random ass person from time to time.
You could say that, well…. The days where she was left waiting for you without you ever coming over were the worst ones. She did feel lonely in those days.
You've never really caught her spiteful tone, have you? You either ignored it or treated as Alexandra's way of joking with you, since you've heard she has a tendency to do that a lot.
Your naivety was both alluring and repulsive. How can someone be so dumb and cute and wear THAT uniform-
Maybe… Maybe she is starting to catch a crush on you?? On YOU, the mailman. A commoner, a simpleton-
Maybe… Maybe she is starting to catch a crush on you?? On YOU, the mailman. A commoner, a simpleton-
This is- Terrible! This is outrageous yet- I guess she simply can't help it, it feels right to have a crush on you, yet it feels so wrong to not know anything about you. But what can she do to know you more? Start working as a postman for the sake of having some time with you? Hah! Never-
But, hey… Maybe her parents could pull some strings, right? Maybe it would cost her a lot of effort, but something tells her that her father would gladly help her find a way to bloom these feelings more appropriately.
🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭
#yandere#sheep stuff#yandere oc#sheep's stuff#yandere x reader#yandere bully#yandere twins#yandere oc headcanon#yandere bully x reader#yandere oc x reader#special delivery headcanons#special delivery request
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Inuyasha Characters As Roomates
In honor of yashahime’s release i’ve decided to post this for no real reason.Can you tell who my bias is lmao. Lmk if I should do a Part 2 with the people I missed. Also I apologize I haven’t updated in like a year I have a post addressing this coming up soon. Thank you for your continued support despite the fact that I’ve been updating infrequently, I really appreciate it. Without further ado:
Warnings: Some swear words oop
Word Count: 1632
Inuyasha
You want Inuyasha as your roommate???Chile anyways...
No but fr tho in general Inuyasha isn’t an awful roommate, he pays his bills on time(ususally), doesn’t make too big of a mess but that’s just because he owns like 3 things and 2 outfits.
No, the real problem with Inuyasha is that he is LOUD
You walk outside to throw the trash away and he’s in his room screaming about a video game or something and the WHOLE neighborhood can hear him.
People pokin they head out in concern and everything
Another time he was watching a horror movie and you guess the characters did something stupid because you hear a scream from the character and then Inuyasha screaming “WHAT THE FUCK, WHY WOULD YOU GO THAT WAY DUMBASS! THAT’S WHY YOU’RE DEAD NOW!”
Shit woke you up out of your sleep
After that incident you knew you’d have to ask him to be a bit more considerate of your eardrums.
So, you ask him to quiet down and he pouts like a child and huffs and puffs.
He does quiet down tho...for about 2 minutes until he stubs his toe on the end of the couch
God bless you and your patience but god bless his girlfriend Kagome
She’s a saint
If it were up to Inuyasha your groceries would consist of a cabinet of ramen like the man has the budget for ramen and paying his share of he bills why would he spend money on things like fruit???
This is where Kagome comes in, she comes by pretty regularly and she brings food or groceries because she of all people knows how terrible Inuyasha’s shopping habits are.
Bless her soul truly and every time she does this you thank her lmaoo
Inuyasha eventually does move out with Kagome but he does apologize for being loud before he leaves, you aren’t sure if he did that on his own or if Kagome made him do that
Kagome
She’s so sweet
Fair share of chores, groceries, she cooks for yall sometimes, truly a saint
Only 2 problems:
Ms. Girl has no moneyyy
Poor Kagome, she always tries to pay her bills on time but between trying to feed Inuyasha, helping out her family, and school the paycheck only spreads so thin(She does eventually quit school to start working more but)
Nothing wrong with this but you do end up having to cover for her sometimes.
She of course thank you and you don’t usually mind and your routine was functional for you two, until you meet problem number 2
The loudest mf on the planet Earth, her boyfriend, Inuyasha
One day you’re in he kitchen grabbing something to eat and you hear pounding on the door like the police showed up.
You proceed cautiously because...what the fuck and you almost reach the door before you hear
“I’ll get it!”
You’ve never seen Kagome run faster
She opens the door and you see this 5′5 mf who was banging on the door like he paid the bills
Inuyasha just has rbf but you don't know that so you think he’s making faces at you
Immediately you have a problem with him
“Hey Kagome, who’s this?”
She looks between you two before immediately rushing to introduce you to each other
“Oh, I forgot my purse be right back guys.”, Kagome left not knowing that yall were about 2 seconds from fighting
You didn’t like Inuyasha for banging on the door and glaring and he didn’t like you for glaring at him
After that you just avoided talking to inuyasha for the sake of keeping the peace
When he came over you exited stage left
Eventually Kagome does move out with Inuyasha and she asks why you and Iuyasha had never spoken to each other
“Are you kidding me the first day we met he was already glaring at me?!”
“Ohhh, that’s just his face, he’s really sweet promise :D”
You doubted that
You liked Kagome as a roommate but you were glad she was moving out so you could find someone who could pay the bills on time.
Sango
She a baddie ngl
Aside from that, Sango is the perfect roommate
However, I hope you aren’t allergic to cats or Miroku because they’re pretty much a package deal
Also hopefully you don’t hate children because she does have Kohaku to worry about
But she makes pretty good money at her job so expenses aren’t a issue
She also isn’t home too often between her job, taking care of Kohaku and Kirara, and her relationship
She ends up spending more and more time at Miroku’s place anyways
Sango finally moves in with Miroku when she gets pregnant, yall still keep in touch tho because you’ve become good friends
And thus you say goodbye to the best roommate to ever grace this Earth lmao
Miroku
Miroku is the shortest lasting roommate on this list
Mans is a little creeper pervert and that shit gets annoying after a while
You’ll be walking out the shower and Miroku’s standing there like “hey lil mama lemme whisper in ya ear”
Needless to say you smacked the taste outta his mouth and he stopped with that real quick
He stops but you’re surprised when you see Sango come over
Your hand starts itching with the urge to slap him again...
You meet Sango and what she sees in him is... baffling, scientists to this day still don’t understand
Baby girl, you’re Sango do better, self love
Anyways, Miroku moves out eventually and he takes his nasty ass ways with him
Later you find out that Sango moved in with him and sje’s gon have a baby by him
But you know that’s none of your business
Koga
If you thought Inuyasha was loud...
Inuyasha doesn’t have any friends, Koga has a wolf pack...
Parties all the time good luck homie
If you were tryna study, sleep, do work, etc. best wishes lmao
You come home and mans got 2 random people over like how ya doin O-O
“Hello”
“Where’s Koga?”
They point to the kitchen and you head here ready to just “talk” with Koga
He turns around and gives you the cutest smile known to man and you immediately lose your will to argue
Can’t argue with a man that beautiful sorry...
Anyways besides being loud af, Koga is HYPER
Mans is up at 5 am knocking on your door like “hey you wanna jog to the gym”
“No Koga, goodnight”
‘No problem, it’s the morning btw!”
He’s actually a decent roommate and he moves into a bigger house with his friends and calls it the ‘pack house’
He actually invites you to come move in w him and his buddies
You tell him you’ll think about it
Sesshomaru
The king of “I’m better than you”
He has his life so well together and you’ve gotta give him props
Mans is basically Caspar the Friendly Ghost of roommates
Does he actually live here? the lights stay on and his name is on the deed so... I guess
Seriously tho, Sesshomaru doesn’t need a roommate but he does need someone to mind Rin
You might ask, what about Jaken, Jaken is busy (following Sesshomaru) or so he claims
Sesshomaru isn’t too bad honestly he covers the majority of the expenses in exchange for you watching Rin and feeding Ah-Un
So you’re basically Rin’s stay at home nanny
But you don’t mind because she is a SWEETHEART
Ah-Un isn’t too bad, just feed 2 lizards
(Although depending on who you are feeding them bugs might be your worst nightmare)
Jaken and you buttheads all the time, it’s almost comical
The times you interact with him mainly consist of you telling him to leave Rin alone or him telling you something Sesshomaru said
Speaking of Sesshomaru you don’t see him often and the only times you hear from him are in the form of notes he leaves around the house to the degree of ‘I fed Ah-Un this morning’ or ‘Make sure Rin takes her vitamins’
The other times you “hear” from him are when Jaken comes by saying things like ‘Lord Sesshomaru has requested that you prepare Rin to go out’
And for a while you were like who tf does he think he is because like yea he pays most of the rent but like he isn’t paying you for this so why does he think he can order you around indirectly
The first time you see Sesshomaru, it’s late and Rin’s been asleep for hours.
You walked into the kitchen and didn’t bother with turning the lights on but then you heard the smallest shuffle and a groan
And the moonlight comes through the window at the perfect angle and it reflects so beautifully off his silver hair
He turs some and you see his face and immediately take back all the times you’ve cussed him out mentally
And the you realize you’re in your pajamas staring at this man you’ve never met before that’s sleeping on the couch. For all you know he could be some random guy who broke in
He looks so peaceful that you loathe to disturb it but you poke at him w a stick and he groans out something to the tune of “Go away Jaken”
“I’m not Jaken”
He immediately sat up and stared at you like he was trying to figure out who you were in his head for a moment
“Don’t you want to sleep in your room?” you asked him. He stood up and begun to walk towards his room in response
You just watched him walk away but before he turned the corner into the hallway you swear you heard him say “You should get some sleep too.”
#inuyasha imagines#inuyasha imagine#and they were roommates#sango#miroku#sesshomaru#koga#koga inuyasha#kagome#inuyasha
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Un-alone, Chapter 6!
Here it is!
“Go to hell!”
“L, it’s me.”
Lucien jumped out of his sofa and it was so sudden that he knocked the bottle of vodka. It fell on the floor and spilled a bit before he managed to grope for it and make it stand up. He rushed to the door and opened it.
“Hey.” Fred was standing there but before he could add anything, Lucien grabbed him by his collar and pushed him against the wall in the corridor of the hotel, outside his room. He was fuming with rage. “Wow! L? What the fuck?!”
In his surprise, Fred dropped the briefcase he was holding and it fell on the carpeted floor of the hotel corridor.
“Why did you never tell me?! Why?!” Lucien roared.
“About what?!”
“You know very well what!” Lucien pushed his knuckles harder against the wall and Fred’s throat started to feel really uncomfortable.
“I-inside… P-please..?” The American pushed the air out of his mouth but his vocal chords couldn’t produce a sound.
Lucien kept him there, breathing fast not an inch away from his face, and Fred smelt the alcohol in his breath, because he could hardly smell anything else but alcohol… Eventually the Frenchman let go and both entered the suite.
“Tom told me you went to see him and he gave you the file. So I thought I should come and see how you were doin’...” Fred adjusted his collar, trying to get the air he had been lacking a moment ago. “And I see you’re doin’ brilliantly…”
“Why not tell me straight away?” Lucien couldn't raise his eyes. If he did, he wasn't sure he would be able to contain his rage.
“Because you were head over heels for her and married her before any one of us could run checks on her! Besides, I’m not supposed to run checks on her, you should have done that yourself! What did you think about marrying a girl you knew nothing of?! You’re a goddamn spy and she could have been another one!”
Lucien sighed and grabbed the vodka, gulping down from the bottle straight.
“I mean, there’s no one else to blame but you! And it’s not like she played particularly hard or anything! No! It’s like you never bothered to check at all! Like you never bothered!”
“Is what the file saying true? All of it?” Lucien asked.
“Of course it is!” Fred shouted. “She used to go around, pulling money out of men she thought had loads of it! And the kids she had?! God bless! She had seven kids before your one, seven?! How did you not see any one of them?! She’d always do the same. Find a guy, get him to buy her anything she wanted, maybe get knocked up and married and go straight to a divorce, only to get the child support! L, she did that seven fuckin’ times before she met you! Seven fuckin’ times?!”
Fred was as mad as Lucien felt betrayed and disappointed at himself.
“Did you never see any of the other kids?!”
“Non.” Lucien was beyond ashamed, his voice was at the other end of loud.
“Goddamn it!” Fred went on. “She played you like a damn fiddle! And you never wondered how on Earth she came to agree to you fuckin’ off and leavin’ her alone for years? It was for her to go and get around other guys! Continue her business! It was perfect for her! She’d continue receiving your money, your gifts, whatever the fuck you’d send her, all the while playing with other guys!”
Fred slapped his own forehead. He had been walking in circles in the room while Lucien was on the sofa, drinking each time the heat of embarrassment was too much to handle.
“For fuck’s sake! You’re supposed to be one of the best spies in the world!”
Lucien winced. Fred’s shouting on his drunk ears rang loudly and painfully.
“I did not want to risk it.” He whispered.
“What?” Fred turned to him and sat next to him on the sofa.
“Part of me feared to know why she was insisting on going to the restaurant I was singing in, despite barely having the money for it. I… I just… I thought she...”
“Fuckin’ hell…” Fred shook his head. “The issue isn’t even just her. It’s the mess she left!”
Lucien lowered his head. He was still holding the bottle of vodka.
“You mean Jérémy?”
“Yeah, Jeremy and the horde of others…! Half of them has already spent some time behind bars and Jeremy bein’ the youngest, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d follow them!”
Lucien shook his head. The weight of his mistake increased by the second. He let a hand sink down his face from his brow to his chin, pulling his skin down but not digging his nails in. Not in front of Fred.
“Although I guess the fact that he was bullied to bits by his elder brothers helped, or maybe not…”
“What?” Lucien asked, turning his head to his colleague.
“His brothers, or half-brothers. Did you see them? You must have, at the funeral.”
Lucien winced. Again, he failed himself.
“You didn’t pay attention, did ya? Pfff, Lucian… What the hell, pal…? Yeah, maybe retirin’ is the best option for you…”
The Frenchman hated to hear it because he hated to hear the truth said so bluntly. Again.
“Anyway, they’re all twice as big as Jeremy and they never played nice with him. Most of them work like their mum. They go around holdin’ whatever shady business they can. Drug dealing, minor thefts, whatever’s big enough to get you a few months in the shade. The poor last boy got no rest at home and became good with a bat…”
Lucien raised intense eyes to Fred.
“For baseball I meant, calm down. I guess he releases what he can’t elsewhere there. And he plays it with other people, not his brothers, so I guess for him hitting a ball as hard as he can with a bat is as close as he can get to release whatever frustration he has.”
Lucien sighed and drank more.
“What a mess.” He simply said. “And quite ironic.” Fred turned to look at the French spy. “I am the spy, the one no one should trust and I trust no one. I trusted her, only her, I… Pff…”
Lucien’s hair was messy and he was still wearing only black. A black shirt and black trousers. They looked crumpled and it pinched the American’s heart to see that such a professional and outstanding man could be that deeply fooled and lost.
“You really loved her, eh?”
Lucien bit his lip and looked away to take another swig of the bottle.
“Goddamn it…” Fred sighed and shook his head. “I don’t even know what I’d do if I were you… I mean… Can I be honest with you?”
Lucien raised tired eyes to him.
“You did not feel the need to ask so far.”
“Yeah, right… Look, I don’t know what it feels like to realise that the one girl you like turns out to have played you for all your life. I don’t know what it feels like to be a dad but never be called “dad”. I don’t know any of these things and may God preserve me from all of it. But I’m damn sure that if I did know any of this mess personally, I’d want to retire, fly to the fuckin’ Moon and bury myself there.”
Lucien nodded, his head still lowered.
“But I know you, L. Nevermind that girl, you’re good. You’re very good at what you do and that’s why you’re still there. You can only thank God that she wasn’t another spy and going after you or you wouldn’t be sittin’ here downin’ that bottle like you are. So listen, there’s two things you can do. One,” Fred extended his thumb. “You can fly yourself to the damn Moon and bury yourself there. Or,” He extended his index finger. “You can take up the one thing you know how to do and do it. I told you before and now you might understand what I meant a bit better: if you take up that contract, you get Jeremy a job, you get him off the streets and give him a chance to set his life straight. The boy’s not lost yet and he is half you, at least.”
“He hardly has anything of me. He does not know me.”
“Not yet. But you can change that. That’s maybe the one thing you can do to make this mess a bit better. Give that boy something to put his energy in that won’t lead him in the shade.”
Lucien shook his head.
“Alright, alright, look. There’s something else cookin’ and it might be better that you take that up.”
Lucien leaned back on the sofa and threw his head back, staring at the ceiling.
“Remember back fifteen odd years ago, there was this guy that you Frenchies and us managed to get. It was all you in the end. He was dealin’ whatever he could lay his hands on but what really got on our nerves was the smugglin’ of kids through the border, girl kids…”
“Oui, I remember.”
“He got out.”
“What?!” Lucien’s head swooshed to Fred. “He escaped prison?!”
“Worse, he got freed.”
“How could you let him free?!”
“Hey, I didn’t but he managed to get himself released. Here’s the file.” Fred handed it to Lucien who opened it and squinted for the letters to stop floating around. The vodka did not help his vision...
“Hm. Well, I cannot say I understand this decision but what can we change in it?”
“Well, here’s the thing, the guy disappeared off the face of the Earth the second he stepped out of prison. We know he didn’t leave the country but that’s as far as we got.”
“So he is resuming his business or starting afresh, depending on his clientèle." Lucien answered and Fred couldn't but crack a slight smile. The French spy raised his eyes and saw it. "Why the smile?"
"Give you a file and you become the good old L again. It's funny."
Lucien's eyes went back to the file.
"I presume you want to find his whereabouts?"
"Yeah. HQ isn't happy not knowin' what he's up to."
Lucien pondered for a second where his mind rolled like a hamster in a wheel.
"I will take it." He concluded.
"Oh, really?"
"Oui."
"I don't need to convince you any more than that?"
"Non."
"Alright…!" Fred exclaimed enthusiastically. "Well then, if you need anythin'-"
"Where can I find my son?"
Fred's eyebrows jumped. He took a split second to make sure he heard it right but seeing the determination in Lucien’s eyes thrilled him. He got a pen out of his jacket and scribbled an address on the file.
“Anythin’ else you need?”
“Oui, an answer.”
“Yeah? What’s the question?”
“Why give this to me?”
“You just want me to say that you’re the best again, don’tcha?”
“Not necessarily.”
“Look, you’re the best at trackin’ people. Say what you want about it but that’s the borin’ truth of it. That’s your answer.”
Lucien lit a cigarette and slowly nodded.
“Now, you’ll really take it and your son with you?”
“I need to take a shower. I trust you can show yourself out.”
This was Lucien’s answer and Fred knew what it meant.
“Before I go, I talked to Francis from gadgets and he told me to give you this.” Fred put his briefcase on the coffee table. “He said he kept it simple and classic, like you used to like it.”
Lucien nodded and Fred stood up before taking his leave and leaving the Frenchman alone.
The shower lasted a long time. Lucien needed it to think. The white noise was an excellent stimulant for his brain and he closed his eyes, feeling the water continuously drip down his face, his hair sticking on it.
Marie had toyed with him completely. She had played him like a damn fiddle indeed, to quote Fred. And as Fred had said, it was all but Lucien’s fault. He should have run the usual checks, to try to understand why a woman who could hardly pay to go in such an establishment insisted on frequenting the place and going backstage to talk to him. It turned out, more than twenty odd years later, that it was not out of blind love, or because she had thought he could sing well. But what about the letter then? She did say that she needed to hear him sing? Had she lied about this? Had she sent letters to the other men she had fooled? Where did the lies begin and where did they stop?
One thing was sure, she married him for nothing else but his money. Maybe his looks helped.
Like all the other women who looked up at Lucien with dilated pupils, it was only because they saw the charm and the green bills through his clothes and in his bank account. That, or they wanted to kill him. Nothing personal, some lady spies knew how to use their charms.
Lucien sighed under the running water of the shower. His shoulders were hunched and he put a hand on the wall in front of him, just to make sure to not lose his balance.
There were a few things he started to piece together and still some missing links. Marie going to a place she barely could afford was all a strategy and she did that to find targets from whom to suck money out, like a leech. On top of that, she made sure to come and show only a few dresses, excusing herself for it, only to push him to offer her more.
Everything from her was fake, everything from him was sincere.
All the gifts, all the letters he wrote with a trembling hand and a shaking heart, threatening to burst out of his chest… The countless drafts for each letter, trying to find the perfect words to describe his longing, the endless nights of solitude, keeping her souvenir in his head to try to sleep with a smile on his lips.
The money he sent to raise a boy, their son, his son.
She had also lied about him.
Lucien did not want to show it in front of Fred but what his colleague told him contradicted Marie’s letters over the years frontally! She was saying that he was a brilliant little boy at school, that his teachers could not stop praising him and saw a bright future ahead of him, outstanding studies and a safe career…?
She had lied not only about her feelings, about their wedding, but also about someone who had asked nothing about this! The little boy was… He was…
Lucien opened his eyes under the shower water.
That little boy was the incarnation in flesh and blood of his mistake!
But Lucien wasn’t one who could hate him for it. The poor thing had asked for none of this. It wasn’t his fault and however hard Lucien tried, he couldn’t but feel something for the baby he had held and sung lullabies to.
If only....
If only Lucien had run checks on her, if only he had been a professional and not a hopeless romantic, if he had followed his head and not his foolish heart, yearning for a much quieter life, then he would have avoided all of this and the boy wouldn’t be wandering the Earth pointlessly! But no! After the war and on his way to America, the young man, even if very gifted for his craft, had to believe that most of the evil of this Earth had been purged. As if. As if...
In the end, it was his fault, as much as it was hers.
She tried, and he let her win.
But further than that, and the biggest part of the problem he was having with himself, was elsewhere. Non, the issue that he was trying to avoid because he did not know if he could stop himself, was him.
Not him now, but him throughout all these years.
He had spent more than the past two decades living a lie. In his head, he had been a father, a husband, a heart bound by sacred bonds. Lucien wasn't very religious but on that day at the church, he had not lied! When the priest asked him if he would take care of Marie till death did them apart, the Frenchman had looked in the deepest blue of her eyes, where he saw his reflection, and had answered 'I do' with as much honesty as emotion. To him, he had tied his life to her!
But it all made sense now. As much as it hurt, it made sense. Thinking about it again and had the roles been reversed, he would hardly have accepted for her to leave him, travel the world most of her time and above all… He remembered a conversation with her that now took a whole other meaning.
“Marie, I… I cannot be married.” He took her hand. His was trembling with distress.
“Why? Are you already married?” She had taken a step away from him, as if she was disgusted by the idea that Lucien could have two ladies at the same time. Gosh, the talents of the most brilliant actress she had…
“Non, but… My job requires me to not be faithful, to sometimes share my bed with other people.”
Her eyebrows had jumped.
“You mean as a singer?”
“N-non. My real job is not a singer, but it requires me to be one now.”
Lucien now understood how on Earth she could have suggested a marriage that fast.
“What is your job?”
“If I told you, you would leave me.”
“No, Lulu…” She had cupped his face and looked in his eyes with hers, filled with lies. “It’s alright. Whatever your job is and even if you have to sleep with other people, I don’t care.”
Lucien’s eyebrows had jumped and tears had come to his eyes. In his enamoured eyes, he had accepted everything, he had let her guide his needs, guide his decisions, guide his everything… And if she accepted such harsh conditions, he had taken it for unconditional love and respect, not for anything suspicious. He thought she loved him as much as he loved her, madly, to the point of forgetting any and everything around him. Forget himself even, forget he was a spy, forget lies were something that he used so frequently, forget that they could be used against him. Non, with Marie, he was Lucien the husband, Lucien the man, Lucien the nobody, the normal Lucien.
And he loved it, he revelled in it and adored her for it.
Finally, finally! Someone didn’t see him as a means to an end! They didn’t see him as an agent, as a blade, as a disguise, as a shadow of smoke.
Ha. The irony.
Lucien was a spy, he was an expert liar, manipulator, a machine of deceit and cunning plans. And what other spies failed to do so far, what the war didn’t manage to do as he was a young man, what no one yet had managed to do, she did.
How could he have let himself fall without a safety net…?
Worse than all of it. He had been living in a fairy tale of his own. Marie had never been his the way that he made himself hers. She had used him for the money and Jérémy was only a safety plan, in case Lucien wanted to sign out too soon for her to collect her prize. Beyond the heartlessness of it all, Lucien realised that he hadn't found a saint of a woman at all. He hadn't found a pearl rare enough that she profoundly trusted him, gave him a chance at being what his mind could barely thank her enough for: being a family man.
He was working his head off for her and for their son who, as it turns out, was only a means to an end for her. Did she even see Jérémy as a baby at all? Or was he nothing but guaranteed money?
Lucien put a hand on his chest. It disgusted him and maybe - maybe - in the grand scheme of things, maybe that was what he deserved. Him, the one who manipulated and got countless people to share a night with. Maybe that was only fair that sometime, somewhere, someone would manage to fool him.
The Frenchman shook his head under the shower.
And Fred knew about it. The Americans knew about it. The whole world knew about it.
Anyone could blackmail him for this and Fred certainly did. Anyone could force him to do anything they wanted knowing that about him, and it had already started. His reputation as an outstanding spy, a war hero, a liberator of France; all of it now dangled from the ends of a twenty-odd year old ongoing lie.
A woman, a nobody, had managed to manipulate him, to get him to do whatever she wanted.
"Mon Dieu…"
Lucien stopped the shower and dried himself quickly. He put a black suit on, only the shirt was white. As he adjusted the cufflinks, he went to sit on the sofa and opened the briefcase. Francis from gadgets had prepared these, huh? Francis was a great engineer. What Fred called “gadgets” was the research and development department. They conceived and fabricated all kinds of custom weapons and equipment for the spies to use.
Lucien retrieved a pistol, a suppressor, a revolver, some ammunition and oh, there was a plastic packet. He lit a cigarette and opened it.
“Ah.” He couldn’t hold back a sigh and an almost nostalgic grin.
He slipped the pair of black gloves on and emptied the rest of what the packet contained on the sofa. Fake glasses, a make-up kit, a fake beard, fake moustaches and…
“Le masque.”
[The mask.]
Lucien took it in his hand and looked at the balaclava. It had been ages since he had last put it on; ages being since he set foot in America, almost a month ago now. He put the mask down and looked at the fake beard and moustaches. He didn’t need them, his own had grown over the past weeks. Lucien looked at his reflection on the cigarette case. Any hair he had on his face was tainted with grey streaks, including his beard of course.
He shook his head and got himself ready. He put all these items away and slipped his cigarette case and his blade in his pocket. Before exiting the suite, he made one last trip to the bathroom to fix his hair and stare at himself. First impressions always matter a lot.
Even if you give them more than twenty years later.
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