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tiyoin · 2 months

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parents day shenanigans

ep 1: trey’s mom tries playing match maker

it being parents weekend at nrc and you’re helping your friends / the staff in preparing and you noticed several different parents just… staring at you. they’re not discreet either😭

you see some students fighting their parents- like physically fighting them as they’re pushing their son in your direction 😭 you catch one of the students gaze, and smile at them, sending them a polite wave as you make your exit.

this doesn’t stop though.

the more time that goes by and the busier you get, the more families filter in. the more younger siblings of your peers seem to scream your name before a quick slap to their mouth keeps them quiet.

you’ve told grim about this and all he says is that he should start paying them to take pictures with you AND grin the great. you chuckle as you kneel to the ground. opening a small duffel bag crowley armed you with, you start mixing around for a bottle of water.

why’d crowley have to pick the hottest day of the season for family day. curses.

“you’re y/n, right?” suddenly a shadow blocked the beating sun from your crouched form. the voice, for once, was feminine, it was soft and flowy. clearing your throat, you began to turn around “yes, that’s me” looking up at the rather petite woman, you noted her kind smile and rosy cheeks.

though there was a bit of… something in her golden gaze that you couldn’t quite place. it reminded you of a hawk, yet it didn’t have the same intensity as the bird of prey’s. slightly guarded of the mystery woman, you began to stand, dusting off the dirt on your uniform pants.

“grim you mind getting me a bottle of water from the duffel” “uh, yeah i do mind” he huffed, turning his nose up. but you didn’t play into his antics this time, just softly thanking him as you turned to face the woman.

and just as you thought, in a few seconds you heard grumbling and rustling as the monster looked through the duffel.

“i’m sorry, it was rude of me to not introduce myself- i’m trey’s mom, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” sticking her hand out, you stared at it for a second, flickering your gaze to her smiling eyes before you hesitantly focused on shaking her hand.

“it’s really nice to meet you mrs.clover” she laughed, flicking her hand as if you told her a joke.

“please, just call me alice! with how much my son talks about you it feels like we’re already friends!” she smiled behind her hand. her eyes never leaving yours as she watched your jaw open in shock.

“he- he talks about me?”

like vil schonheit, she gasped in surprise, her hands flying to her mouth as if she just realized she ratted on her son. “oops! silly me, i shouldn’t have told you that! please don’t tell try what i told you the next time you see him, okay?”

about to swear your silence, her hands lowered as her lip quirked up “or do, he’s adorable when he’s flustered” and just like that the smirk was gone and her sweet persona took over.

“o- okay” you gulped due to the lost of words you seem to find yourself at. what the hell was happening??? it hasn’t even been five minutes and this woman has made you go through the 3 of the however amount of stages of grief already.

“here” a cute, raspy voice said from behind you. feeling a small few tugs on your pant sleeve, you accept the water bottle from grim, immediately chugging it to combat the new heat you found yourself in.

“oh what an adorable cat you have there, i’ve heard all about ‘grim the great’ as well” she leaned down to pet his head. normally- normally grim would snap his teeth at an unwelcome touch… and yet- grim seemed to welcome it no, enjoy it was his ever so famous grin exposed more teeth than you’ve ever seen.

“nya-ah!! see! i told you everyone loves grim the great!” picking up the boasting cat, you could only roll your eyes as you adjusted him in your grip.

“geez grim, go to town on the tuna last night? i swear you weren’t this heavy yesterday” you groaned, trying to fix him with your knee.

huffing, grim crossed his arms and refused to look at you or acknowledge your struggling. “hmph! a henchman should always be able to carry their master! you’re just weak!!” “am not”

“allow me to try” a voice interjected.

you wanted to smack yourself in the face for forgetting someone- let alone trey’s mother was here and a witness to your usual shenanigans with your partner in crime.

“are you sure?” you look at his squishy tummy as you offer her a coy smile“he’s quite heavy”

“pshh- nonsense! i’m a baker! we’re used to carrying all sorts of things. we’re quite strong so to say.” she takes him from your grasp easily. and with the same easiness, she put him in a comfortable baby position where his legs were around his waist, arms around her neck, and his neck over her shoulder.

“there! easy peasy lemon squeezy!” you could hear from sigh in content, his forked tailed swooshing happily.

“remind me not to get in an arm wrestling match with you anytime soon” you mused, looking around nervously as the woman wouldn’t stop staring at you.

laughing softly, she shook her head “it’s not me you should be worried about-“

“mom?!”

kill me now. kill me now. kill me now.

“speak of the devil and he shall come! trey baby how are you! i thought you were with your father and your younger siblings”

trey made his way up to your little group from behind you, stopping only when he turned the line into a triangle.

“y-y/n! i’m sorry if my mom said anything weird”

waving him with a woobly smile, you jerked your head towards his mom. “she’s actually been a great help with keeping this one outta my hair” trey looked at the furry sack in his mother’s arms and only sighed.

“mom-“

“now now trey, let the ladies talk in peace okay!”

you swore you could see a grey hair manifesting as he sighed. “mom y/n is super busy and has to get back to work, let me introduce you to my science club teacher okay?”

quick and straight to the point, trey clover as usual had an agenda and that was to get his mom away from you before she said anything too revealing.

huffing, the woman pet grim once more before giving him over to you. but before that, she made sure to fix the cat monster’s position to where he was resting on your hip. with a proud smile she stepped back and looked at the two of you.

“look at you!! a natural!” she clapped, eyeing her son next to you for a moment before she bid you farewell. (not without a few comments herself )

there was a beat of silence before he sighed again. rubbing the nape of his neck he adverted his eyes bashfully. “i’m sorry about her, she’s a bit…”

“bubbly?”

“ambitious, that too- but definitely ambitious. she’s head of marketing for our family bakery for a reason”

“no shit” you gapped, watching the short haired woman vanish in the crowd. still nodding, albeit awkwardly this time, you adjusted your grip on the heavy cat. “he’s like a fat toddler” you joked, wanting a small chuckle from your senior.

“yeah… you’re definitely right about that”

“trey! honey! i forgot to give your friend her treat!”

like a panther, she jumped out from the sea of swarming families with a purpose.

“oh my sevens ” he breathed, rubbing his creasing brows. smiling up at him, you made a comment about it just being a treat.

“because of my son’s dorm” she started once she was within ear shot “i wanted to make his friends a little something something”

“now i see where you get your baking prowess from” you elbowed him, but he was too busy keeping his flushed face in the palm of his hands to respond.

“here you go~” she cooed “it’s a chocolate lollipop! in the shape of a heart! cute right! trey made it himself!”

“that’s cause i thought they were for an-“

ignoring her son, she started explaining the wrapped sweet to you. “oh yeah it’s definitely one of his best works!”

“really?” you mused, looking up at him “even better than your tiramisu?” he shrugged, still ostrich-info in his pile of sand (his hands).

“even better~ now c’mon trey! we have to find maddie, she’s wondered off again”

“again?” his head popped out as his glasses were a bit crooked, being a friendly neighbor, you did the only natural thing.

“uh trey” you pointed at your own face once you made eye contact “your glasses are a bit crooked”

cursing silently, he fixed him with a quick thank you before he rushed off in whatever direction his mom had come from.

and finally, with a big thumbs up and a toothy, shiny smile, she left to follow her son.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #tiyoin 🔎#trey clover heartslabyul #trey twst #trey clover x reader #trey x reader #twst trey x reader #heartslabyul x reader #twst heartslabyul

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mikanotes · 6 months

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up close & personal

hyunsu ? x gn!reader

genre: what. mutual pining?

warnings: sweet home 2 spoilers, mentions of blood, injuries. hyunsu himself is a warning lowkey if u watched the last ep u probably get it… that’s all!

synopsis: You know Hyunsu so well. One year apart couldn’t possibly change that. Except if Hyunsu isn’t alone anymore.

authors note: realized at the end of this fic that i cld compare hyunsu’s current situation to venom like a little bit and that just makes everything so much easier somehow. anyways i don’t really like this but i needed to post smt for him after s2 so!

One year ago, you and Cha Hyunsu would’ve been sitting near the entrance of Green Home apartments, and he would be listening to you talk. One year ago, you would’ve firmly believed that by now, the world would’ve been restored to some kind of peace. It had, in a way, but certainly not in the one your past self would have hoped for. And certainly not the one Hyunsu would’ve wanted for the two of you.

Nevertheless, you remained grateful through everything— As much as you could manage. The shelter was as organized as possible and conflict was a surprisingly rare occurence. Things were alright. As long as you didn’t give time for the grief and terror to catch up to you.

But things couldn’t be calm forever. Especially not in the current state of your world.

When Eunyu disappeared with that man from the military, it only took a day before you grew restless enough to depart from the stadium. After all, Eunyu was the closest thing to a friend you had here, at this point. It only felt right to try and find her. And you did, surprisingly, along with a few familiar faces and an unknown one.

You didn’t expect for the evening you found your friend again to be the very same you would see the person you had considered closest to you at Green Home for the first time in… Over a year.

“Finally asleep.” you sighed quietly, watching Eunyu get the rest her body had probably been begging for. It was difficult to convince her you would stand watch and wait for your friend to wake up in her stead, but her exhaustion made her stop arguing eventually.

You turned towards the room he was in.

Cha Hyunsu.

You crossed your arms and sighed. One year without a single trace of him anywhere. And now he… Just reappears? You wanted to be surprised, but part of you really wasn’t. You were angry, just a little— Spending all this time telling yourself he was gone, only for him to come back as if nothing happened felt like a slap to the face. Still, you couldn’t blame him. Yet. You had no idea what happened to him during that time span.

You felt relieved, if anything.

After some hesitation, you walked over to the glass door. Your hand settled on the handle, pushing it open, before your eyes widened. Hyunsu was sitting on the hospital bed, stretching his neck quietly, not at all perturbed by anything. Hell, he even seemed peaceful.

More peaceful than you’d ever seen him.

You stepped inside quietly and let the door close behind you. Hyunsu continued to move his head, slowly, as if trying to relax, and didn’t acknowledge your presence. His shoulder was bloodstained, still, and his hoodie had cuts here and there. Messy as he appeared, this was your friend from Green Home, there was no denying it. You hadn’t even dared hope he could still be alive, after all this time. You couldn’t give your heart such a high possibility of suffering if he turned out to be gone.

And now he was here. So calm.

He opened his eyes with a soft sigh, before turning his gaze to you. “Finally decided to talk to me?” he asked. His tone was different. Too different. This did not feel like the kind of change that happened in a year. He smiled a little at your silence, tilting his head curiously. “No? Do you need more time? That would be too bad.”

He hopped off the bed with a huff and slowly walked over to you. The closer he got, the clearer it became that his eye color was different. Long gone was the blank, dark brown gaze that looked back at you when you two would talk— Replaced by a vibrant sky blue. A stark contrast from what you were used to, as was everything else about him, apparently. Be it his tone or his mannerisms, it all felt deeply wrong, like it wasn’t him at all. You furrowed your eyebrows but stood still, letting him walk to the very edge of your personal space.

“I’ve been waiting to see you for such a long while.”

“Huh?”

Hyunsu’s eyes widened a little before he grinned. This wasn’t … Him. Not exactly, at least. Not the one you talked to so much. But special-cases, or MH, essentially coexisted in one body. The monster forms around a person’s strongest desire, or whatever it was that scientist at the shelter said.

So perhaps, all the times you and Hyunsu had talked in the past had also been conversations that this side of him had been listening to.

A bit scary. You couldn’t really focus on that, though. You took a deep breath and looked at him.

“Is he well?”

He clicked his tongue, expression growing sour. “He’s fine. Let him get some rest. He’s tired.”

You nodded softly, gaze averting. That sounded fine enough to you. He was right, too, earlier— You had been avoiding talking to him since you met again. With the excuse of focusing on Yikyung and scavenging through the hospital, you had plenty of reasons to act as if you weren’t seeing the person you cared the most for after a whole entire year of thinking he was dead.

But you did feel his gaze on you the whole time. It was heavy, and remorseful. You’d planned to talk to him— In fact, that’s why you decided to come over to the room he was in. You hadn’t expected things to turn out this way, however. Seems like you couldn’t talk to your friend, yet.

“It’s nice to know you care, though.” he hummed, gaze never leaving your face. “He thinks about you so much, too.”

You looked back up at him. If this was the so-called monster part of Hyunsu, then what was his deal? A lot of questions about this situation flooded your head. “What are you playing at?”

He chuckled softly, before backing up just enough to hold up his hands in an innocent gesture. “Nothing as evil as you probably think.” he said, voice steady. “I just wanted us to talk. Just us.”

“Huh.”

“You see, your Hyunsu has an interest in you.” he said, tilting his head slowly. It felt as if he was analyzing you. It was a bit unsettling, but you didn’t bother breaking eye contact this time. “But I do, too. I’d say maybe… Even more than him?” his grin widened at his own words.

“I find it hard to believe you care about people.”

“And yet.” he scoffed, expression dropping to a blank one, seemingly annoyed. He dropped his arms to his sides and sighed. “We decided to work together. Couldn’t have him die on me, it wouldn’t be nice for anyone involved.”

You decided this Hyunsu seemed to mean it when he said they made a deal, just about as much as when he said he had an interest in you. So placing your trust in his bloodied hands for the time being, you tried to be less on guard. He wouldn’t kill you, or most importantly, Hyunsu. That was enough for now.

“Okay.” you sighed, crossing your arms. “So you want to talk?”

He smiled a little. “Yes.” he stated, before taking a step towards you. Only this time, he didn’t bother keeping a safe distance. His face was a touch too close to yours. “I’ve wanted to for a while.”

“You…” you paused for a moment, thinking. “Do you usually go around talking to people while getting so close to them?”

“I don’t go around talking to people.” he mocked your tone before scoffing, a grin pulling at his lips. He brought a hand up to your face, holding your cheek firmly. His focus turned to his hand, eyes narrowing in its direction. You felt his fingers loosen a little, as if he was trying to control how tightly he was holding you.

Which he was. Now it felt gentle. Almost unfitting. Not only that but the Hyunsu you knew was never this comfortable with anything close to physical affection. It felt so out of place.

“Does it bother you?” he whispered, eyes flitting over to meet yours again. He moved in closer, just enough for your noses to touch. He seemed to be having fun switching between looking at your eyes and at your lips. “Am I too close?”

Before you could think of a way to answer, you froze. The unfamiliar color in Hyunsu’s eyes dissipated, the cocky expression you were almost beginning to get used to replaced by a soft, almost startled one. His voice, much quieter now, whispered your name. Your eyes widened and you sighed in something akin to relief.

“Hyunsu.” you breathed out. The latter looked at you with a stunned look, struggling to find anything to say for a while. He looked into your eyes like he was making sure you were okay— Making sure you were really alive. His thumb moved back and forth softly over the skin of your cheek, his gaze scanning you in an almost panicked manner. He sighed shakily, before he brought your face into his shoulder. He seemed to be almost trembling.

“I’m sorry.” he exhaled, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders hesitantly. Still terrible at hugging. You’d missed those awkward displays of affection so much. “I… I’m sorry, it’s been… A very long time.”

“God, you’re so cruel, Cha Hyunsu.”

He tilted his head down into your neck. Now you felt his tears on your skin. He really hasn’t changed, you thought. It was obvious when he came running for help when Yikyung was badly injured, when he did everything to help her and went all the way to look for that kid— Cha Hyunsu hadn’t changed.

“I’m—”

“Quit apologizing.” you huffed, holding him tightly. “I missed you, too.”

Hyunsu sighed quietly, tightening his hold on you a little. He was relieved to finally have you with him again, but he couldn’t shake off his worries.

“You talked to… Him? Right?”

“I did.” you said, pulling away enough to look at him. The concern on his features was undeniable. “And it went fine. It’s okay.”

Hyunsu’s frown deepened. “I don’t know if it’s alright. Me staying… So close to you.”

“Don’t even think about disappearing on me again.” you warned, eyes widening. “I don’t care about any reason you give me— Don’t leave again.”

The boy sighed, averting his gaze for a moment, before slowly bringing it back to you.

“I won’t.” he assured, “I won’t leave you again.”

He closed his eyes and pulled you into another hug. He had to believe his existence on its own wouldn’t cause more problems for you to deal with. He had to trust that even if it did, you meant it when you said you didn’t mind. He knew you did. You always meant it.

He opened his eyes and looked at his reflection in the glass door just a bit further away. Seeing you in his arms should have been reassuring. But the blue hue of one of his eyes and the nagging voice in his head seemed to be laughing at his naivety. He pressed his eyes shut again and buried his face in your shoulder.

This is our priority, now. (I know.) No one else comes first. (I know.) Don’t let them get hurt.

I won’t.

#hyunsu x reader #cha hyun su x reader #cha hyunsu x reader #hyunsoo x reader #cha hyun soo x reader #cha hyunsoo x reader #sweet home x reader #x reader

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kazumist · 4 months

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EPISODE 22 ✿ IT CAN'T HAPPEN

YOU + ME = LOVE — A DILUC SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 526.

“stop following me.”

“(name), if you could please just let me explain," he reaches out to you, trailing behind you hastily.

you stopped in your tracks and faced him, fighting and praying for your voice not to crack. “explain what? explain that you’re leaving the country in, like, what? three weeks?”

“i was going to tell you," he says, attempting to gently grab your arm but you pull yourself back out of his reach. “and when would that be? when you’re about to board that goddamn plane? when you’re about to take your first step into another country? when, diluc?” this is precisely why you didn’t want to fall in love. the attachment that comes with it is enough to make you go insane.

“i—”

he was speechless. for once in his life, diluc was speechless. he always knew what to say; there was never a moment where he would be found hesitating in his words. but for some reason, ever since he met you, this is the first time he actually didn’t know what to say. he knew that if he said another word, it would hurt you—the both of you—more.

“thought so.” your words were cold enough to feel like bullets on his skin.

he calls out your name, unsure if he’s making the right decision right now. but you ignored him, taking this as your chance to speak up.

“you know? i knew it was a bad decision. to let myself fall for you, that is. i should’ve kept my balance before succumbing to whatever the hell this pit is, because fucking hell, diluc ragnvindr—i love you. there, i said it. i love you, diluc ragnvindr. even when i don’t want to, i do.”

silence.

say something—do something, anything, diluc. you thought.

he swallowed. “i can’t, (name). we both have bright futures ahead of us and i’m not sure if i’m ready to juggle a relationship with that. you deserve someone who’s willing to take risks for you, and i’m just not that person. i’m a coward. i’m no risk taker. i’m too scared to even take that leap of faith—even if it means that i get to be with you.”

another moment of silence.

diluc continues, moving closer. his steps were cautious, trying to read if you’d let him (which you did). he grabs your arms on both sides at first, then a hand travels to your face, caressing your cheek ever so gently. “i can still help you and continue being your tutor until the semester ends, but this… us…” a deep breath.

“it can’t happen, (name).”

tears started to sting your eyes when you pulled away from him.

“you know what? let's just end it. finals are over, the semester is ending and you'll be graduating soon. thank you for your help, diluc. i really couldn’t have done this without you.”

you walked past him, not even sparing him another glance back. diluc wants to say something—to do something—but no words come out of his mouth and his feet are glued hard to the ground.

so he just watches you leave, lowering his head down after you leave his sight.

extra notes.

i wrote this chapter when i was still working on ep 9. and this is literally ep 22. i was wayyyyy too excited LOL

anyways this is actually one of my favorite parts. hope you guys liked it as well, happy valentine's <3

taglist (open): @ryuryuryuyurboat @g4bbyyy @kizakiss @quackimilktea @mochiboo123 @thystarsshine @cerisescherries @jamieexistss @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @aethion @dottoreworld-page @naishite @sleepyeri @staaarhin @eroxotckv @kiyiiaarchived @fallenssun @lolmeowing @dorryx @astolary @kissingkzuha @axerrri @a1-ic3 @lottierulez @livelaughlovekuni @sorcerersseestars @whipped-for-fictionals @morganadorodo @briluvspnk @venderretta @xiaosoneandonly @angeilix @morgyyyyyyy @kazioli @the-massive-simp @qtange @tiredjxnna @yuminako @acheronie @sn1perz @akitokisser @siu-ssi @artri-ad @hyeinszn @saeskiss @bubblegum-angelquartz @boomie-123 @moni11032 @sandwichmyonetruelove @cherrybb-ily @itztaki @dontmindtheevie @hotgirlshit5 [1/2]

#( smau — you + me = love ! )#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc smau #diluc #x reader #genshin smau

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thepenguinwriter · 3 months

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°• The main cast + Lucifer ♡ Wholesome Lust •°

°• Fem!succubus!reader •°

~ Contains; fem!succubus!reader (obv), spoilers for ep 6 (at Vaggie's part), vague mention of Valentino, mention of depression, wholesomeness, all relationships platonic except for Lucifer's

~ All gifs from @/atttwoood (except for the Lucifer one)

~ Small tw; possible eyestrain/bright colours for the gifs

°• Charlie •°

- ♡ She's absolutely DELIGHTED to meet another hellborn

- ♡ Especially someone from a different ring

- ♡ She may be the Princess of Hell but she, surprisingly, doesn't travel her realm much

- ♡ She loves hearing about your culture, which is why you often end up telling her stories

- ♡ And we know demons from Lust are the only ones who have Asmodean crystals and are able to traverse to the human realm

- ♡ When she finds out, she squeals and begs to hear tales about what life on Earth is like

- ♡ She knows nothing at all about it apart from the tales of creation, but that is not much

- ♡ You don't believe hellborn demons can be redeemed, but you stay at the hotel. For her sake.

°• Vaggie •°

- ◇ Oh boy, was she MAD when you showed up at the hotel

- ◇ She's a fallen angel, she knows jackshit about different culture in Hell, so she is absolutely confused when you tell her you were born in Hell

- ◇ She thought Charlie was special for that??

- ◇ You explain that you're a succubus, to which she can only become more defensive

- ◇ All she's heard of your kind were dreadful stories about you sucking life out of men in their sleep, or something along those lines..

- ◇ She only agrees to let you in after her dearest, Charlie convinces her

- ◇ It was after a stressful day when you were both alone in the hotel parlor, sitting in silence

- ◇ You were fidgeting with a strange ring so she asked you about it

°• "Oh, this? It's an Asmodean Crystal!" •°

- ◇ After the confusion for her wore off you explained to her what they were for, and she listened in stunned silence

- ◇ A demon able to go to the living world? How is that even possible?!

- ◇ Whenever you return from a visit to the human world, you always bring her a small trinket

- ◇ She coos quietly and gives you a hug. She hates to admit it, but she's warmes up to you.

°• Angel Dust •°

- ♡ The first thing that caught his attention was the fact that you were from the Lust ring

- ♡ He immediately started questioning you about what it's like there

- ♡ Given his circumstances with Val, he was shocked to hear how nice you described it

- ♡ He always jokes with you about him actually belonging there, but he really does wish he could go with you for a visit

- ♡ But of course, sinners are stuck in the Pride ring. Bummer.

- ♡ You always make sure to bring him something from your home ring though if you visit

- ♡ A little knick-knack, if you will

- ♡ He's even more intrigued when you tell him about the Asmodean Crystals

- ♡ He pesters you with questions constantly about how the world is currently going

- ♡ You can't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm.

°• Alastor •°

- ♤ Oh, what's this? A hellborn demon?

- ♤ He is INTRIGUED

- ♤ He isn't a big conversation starter, so he only ever talks to you when you come to him

- ♤ But he enjoys your company quite a lot, actually

- ♤ He, like Charlie, loves hearing about your culture and myths surrounding it

- ♤ He isn't really interested in the Lust ring itself, but you make it sound so good it's hard not to listen

- ♤ One morning he invites you to drink tea with him

- ♤ It was then that he noticed your unusual ring and asked about it

- ♤ When I tell you he is fascinated, I'm understating it

- ♤ But he isn't interested in prying about the living world like Angel

- ♤ In his opinion, technology has ruined many things already

- ♤ You roll your eyes a bit at his dramatic speech, but a smile is plastered on your face.

°• Husk •°

- ♤ In all honesty, he does not care a single bit about where you came from

- ♤ As long as you don't bother him, you're alright in his book

- ♤ You often come to the bar and talk to him, which is why he knows so much about you against his will

- ♤ You absolutely tell him embarrasing things you've seen humans do while drunk

- ♤ You might even try seducing him if you're really wasted, but he shuts that off quickly

- ♤ He starts seeing a lot of similarities between you and Angel

- ♤ You're basically the more mentally stable version

- ♤ He doesn't pry about your life at all

- ♤ He's just glad to have a... somewhat stable drinking buddy

°• Niffty •°

- ◇ Niffty's just a clueless chaotic gremlin

- ◇ She's very curious and asks a lot of questions, but you bet your ass when you start answering, if she sees a bug she will run off without hesitation

- ◇ Girlie's attention span doesn't exist

- ◇ She's trying, but she can't help it

- ◇ But one thing that REALLY interests her is your weird, shiny ring...

- ◇ The whole time you're telling her about it, she's staring at it with the BIGGEST sparkling eyes

- ◇ She keeps it safe from the other residents because she views it as such a special thing

- ◇ She's CONSTANTLY cleaning it too, to keep it bright and shiny!

°• Sir Pentious •°

- ◇ To be honest, he's been here for such a long time and he's still SO DAMN CLUELESS about everything

- ◇ He's so interested when you tell him you're from the Lust ring

- ◇ Mostly because he has literally no idea what you're talking about

- ◇ You tell him everything and you see his gaze gradually lighting up more and more until they're as bright as christmas lights

- ◇ He probably did not notice your crystal ring at all actually

- ◇ But after you explain it, he can't talk about anything else

- ◇ He CONSTANTLY, and I do mean constantly, pesters you with questions about the Lust ring, the human world, being a succubus, etc. In his own awkward way

- ◇ Man is so awkward he just does not know when to stop

- ◇ You're so interesting to him, he cherishes you more than anyone else.

°• Lucifer •°

- ☆ Lucifer never thought he'd find love again

- ☆ Especially from someone who's hellborn

- ☆ But here you were - a simple succubus, sweeping the King of Hell off his feet

- ☆ He could only hope his second wife wouldn't leave him like Lilith...

- ☆ You, surprising to him, are very understanding regarding his trauma and depression

- ☆ Hearing you talk enthusiastically about your home ring always brings the biggest smile onto his face

- ☆ Meeting your new step-daughter was quite awkward at first, but you got along surprisingly well

- ☆ You take him to visit the Lust ring on special occasions

- ☆ He is always amazed, no doubt

- ☆ For a long time, he thought all of Hell was a mistake, all his fault

- ☆ But ever since he met you, he's glad he offered the apple to Eve.

Hello my dear readers! I tried a new format, what do yall think? 👀 anyway this took me SO long, like literally 3 hours or smth so. Hope u enjoy!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbin x reader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #angel dust x reader #alastor x reader #husk x reader #niffty x reader #sir pentious x reader #lucifer x reader #x reader

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littlepputo · 4 months

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Ok imagine this:

Alastor x wife reader, where they are separated in the after life and she sneaks down to hell after ep 8 running into Alastor.

Take you're time drink some water <3

A/N: omg yes love you and thank you for the request

Paring: Alastor x wife reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings⚠: none

୨୧Till death do us apart

It wasn't easy getting down here.

You first tried getting through Sera but that didn't work, so you resorted to sneaking past St Peter when he wasn't looking.

And then trying not to be noticed by any of the sinners, for they surely would kill you without a second thought.

Surely it couldn't be so hard to find one person.

Right?

And when you least expected it you bumbed into someone. And surely you thought this was the end. But nothing came, looking up to see who it was, you finally found the person who you were looking for.

"Alastor? "

Surely it had to be him, even though you haven't seen him in forever you still know that smile.

You'd remember your late husband from anywhere. With a long period of silence he finally responded putting your worries to rest, with one word.

"Dear."

A nickname he used for you only, finally reunited with your lover.

For eternity.

#x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #x reader insert #fluff

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dulcewrites · 1 year

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Fool Me Once (part 4)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader (wc: 4.5k)

Summary: Your paranoia spikes as the safety of your children is put into question. Familiar faces come to King’s Landing as the fight for power continues to grow.

A/N: When I posted the first part, I had no idea this would be the response i get, let alone that I would be making multiple parts. I’m so grateful for all the support I have gotten, and I hope to keep writing hotd stuff y’all enjoy. This part will span events that happened in ep 8 of the show. Ep 9 and 10 will be part 5 🫶🏽🫶🏽. Hope y’all like it, and PLEASE come talk to me. Love chatting about fmo

Fmo masterlist

You tried to make it to your chambers without disturbing the party. Your father seemed confused by you sudden departure after Jayne pulled you away from him.

Ser Quinton insisted going into the chambers before you. There was a sick part of you that hoped she was in there. Waiting for Aemond; or better yet, waiting for you. At least if you saw her, you would feel less… mad. The descent to insanity may be held off by finally putting a face to worst time of your life. You think about the knife trick Quinton had taught you, and if he was right when he said it led to a slow death.

Your bottom lip wobbles when you walk into the room and see red. Alaric’s cot is smeared with blood. Whoever did this did not go to his nursery, they came here knowing you also have a place for him when he is extra restless in the night.

Quinton gives you a look. He can tell you are about to panic and reaches out for your arm. Lord Larys stands there, a dubious look on his face.

“You know it is quite rude to leave you own party. Mother told me to come get you,” Aegon strolls in casually with a lazy smile, and goblet in his hand. His smile falters when he sees the blood and the look on your face. “Seven Hells.”

“We need to tell the Queen,” Quinton pipes up after a beat of silence.

Your mind strays to what Alicent could have said to her son. What Aemond could have said to Alys. The woman that have haunted your thoughts for moon now being in Red Keep… in the room where you rest your head.

You look down at the bloody box, your hands stained red. Time seems to slow down and speed up as you think of what to do.

“This is your house sigil,” you turn to Larys ignoring Quinton’s request. “She was here. That bastard witch was here. She touched my child’s things.”

There’s a vibrating anger that courses through your body. It was not good enough to have your husband, or carry his child. Now she must resort to messing your child, to trying to goad you into a something.

Well, if that is was she wants…

Lord Larys raises a single brow, looking at the box quizzically. A normally self assured and smarmy man just as put out as you. “Maybe we should follow Ser Quinton’s idea by telling Queen Alicent.”

“Tell me what? The feast is about to start.”

Alicent’s rich tone cut through the room, and the four of you turn towards the chamber doors.

“What is all of this,” she gets a familiar furrow in her brow when she sees the blood stained box in your hands. Her doe eyes going from you, to her son, to Quinton, then to Larys before landing on the bloodied cot near the bed.

Alicent rushes into the room, and over to you. You watch as her face falls when she sees Strong sigil edtched in the box and Alaric’s blanket.

“This does not make any sense,” she mutters, shaking her head.

Your eyes flicker quickly over to Aegon, who has an I told you so look on his face. It sets in that any possible reprimand that Alicent gave Aemond was also met with giving him a chance to repair the situation. He had a chance to make a choice, and still chose wrongs. Your imbecile husband.

It is almost a joke at this point. He must really enjoy making you look foolish. That is the only explanation. Before you ask Alicent what she said to him during their talk, a flash of silvery hair at the door catches your eye.

There had been times you thought about killing Aemond. A slip of poison in the goblet, or smothering him with a pillow. Even more lately since you two share a room again. Not ideas you were ever proud of, especially when you thought about your children not having their father in their lives. Living with the grief of a dead father the rest of their lives.

But there’s something about this moment that makes you think you and your kids would be just fine without him. Just fine away from all these people.

“What is going on,” Aemond cautiously walks in, clearly apprehensive of the collection of people in the room. “Your parents are asking for us.”

“Aemond, you should go ba-,” Alicent starts. She is using the voice you have heard her put on when speaking to members of court. Collected and stern.

“This is your fault,” your voice trounces out hers. You move past Alicent and throw the box at his feet. “Your whore left us a gift.”

Aemond leans down to look at Alaric’s blanket. His shoulders stiffening instantly when he sees the box. He looks over at his mother. You have learned that they have their own little language through looks. A connection that can only be expected through mother and child. It only infuriates you more.

“She would not do this.”

Aemond shakes his head in disbelief, and you throw your hands up in frustration. The blood from them now starting to stain your dress. Your favorite purple dress tainted.

“Is her cunt so magical that it is making you blind in both eyes,” you hiss. “She came into this room, and soaked your son’s blanket in blood. Gods know whose blood.”

“My wife-“

You hold a hand up to stop him.

“You have already shown you have no respect for me, but if you think I am going to let your love affair with her effect my children, you are more foolish than I thought.”

Your eyes drifts down the small dagger around his waist. One slit to the throat is all you need. There’s a strange sense of adrenaline that runs through you.

A blood lust.

“We need to all keep our composure, fighting will do no good,” Alicent steps in between you two. “…. And we must remember our stations.”

She eyes you when she says the last part of the sentence.

“Before we jump to any other conclusions, let’s get one of the maidservants to clean this room up, and I’ll see to it that extra guards are sent to all the living quarters. We will discuss how to go forward after the feast.”

Alicent grabs Aemond’s arm in an attempt to pull him out of the room. Your vision blurs with anger. Jump to conclusions? Playing coy and hurt has gotten you nowhere. Your mother was wrong all those years ago; keeping your head is not the always answer.

“That is not going to work my Queen,” Alicent turns back around with a frustrated look in her eyes. “This a threat towards Alaric. And your son’s disrespect of his marriage is directly responsible; what other conclusion is there?”

She sighs before walking back over to you. Alicent takes your hand softly and lays the other over yours.

“Sweetling, do not let jealousy cloud your judgment,” the sweet tone of her voice makes your throat tight. “Anger will not change what happened.”

There is something about the way she is looking at you that reminds of when you used to go hunting with your father. A hobby you hated, but were forced to do when you were younger. You are the doe or wild sheep being toyed with before being slaughtered. Made submissive once the chase is too much to bear.

She hopes you will eventually grow tired of running. That you will take each blow gracefully… Just like she has, just like is expected of a dutiful wife. Is that not what sacrifice is; to become a cold carcass for the dragons to feed on.

Even with people on your side in the room, you have never felt so alone.

“He’s your grandson,” there’s a desperation in your voice that makes you feel so small. Your eyes move past her to Aemond. “He is your blood.”

Your husband is the one that set this all into motion, and you still have to be the one the beg for sympathy. Sympathy for you, and for your children.

“You know I would not want anything to happen to him,” Aemond addressed you with a low voice. Alicent nods in agreement. You bite your tongue that you taste blood.

“Fine, if you both want to make this right, we can do this my way,” you return the farcical sweet voice.

Alicent’s brown eyes darken a bit. As if she knows where you are going with this. You let go of her hand to turn towards Ser Quinton and Lord Larys.

“I want her gone… permanently.”

Quinton’s eyes widen a bit. There had been hushed whispers in the past. Funnily enough, your chivalric knight had the same idea Aegon did. Kill her before it gets too far.

“Sweet daughter, you are not thinking clearly,” the desperation that was once in your voice has now transferred to Alicent’s.

“She made a threat against the son of a Prince of the Realm. That is treason, and calls for punishment.”

“That is enough,” Aemond raises his voice. An unwavering glare pointed on your direction. “This discussion is over.”

You stare in disbelief as he walks out the room. Alicent looks as if she wants to say something, but just sighs and follows her son out. Lord Larys does not even give you a glance as we walks by, trying to catch up to Alicent. Silence permeates in the room, as you stare at the door. Foolishly expecting one of them to turn back around.

“We can figure something out,” Aegon finally speaks up.

A lump grows in your throat. You look down at the dried blood on your hands and dress.

“Give me the room please,” you mutter to him and Quinton. Neither of them move. “I need to change. Just please go.”

Your voice cracks at the end. They both have seen you cry before, more times than you are proud of. But there is something different about this time. More painful; more humiliating. You do not want to be seen this way.

“I will be outside if you need me,” Quinton says softly.

When the door finally shuts, your legs give out from under you. A sob caught in your throat as you take in the room. Your watery eye land on the chest full of dresses. Some a deep red, others vivid green. Pristine and pressed.

Your life sullied… just like your favorite purple dress.

The feast goes as expected. People dote on Daella and Alaric. Aemond and Alicent keep their distance; Alicent spares you sympathetic glances when she thinks you are not looking. Your mother does not seem to pick up on your discomfort. Your father, on the other hand, continues to give you puzzled looks throughout. Especially when you came back in a different dress.

There was a rush of relief that follows when your father suggest the children visiting your home. Anything that gets you away from King’s Landing is welcomed. Even if it is for a short time.

Your worries seems to get push to the side when news of Lord Corlys Velaryons declining health hits the Red Keep. The Queen, who already spends her days caring for a sick king, must now concern herself with the issues that arise from a sick lord.

Daella and Alaric have not left you sight. Much to her surprise and enjoyment, you even joined Daella in the Dragonpit and in the library for her lessons. The constant vigilance extends to them coming with you to the Grand Sept.

Jayne keeping them company, and Quinton watching on as you kneel in front of the candles.

There is so much for you to pray for, you do not know where to begin. Before you eyes can flutter shut, a voice interrupts you.

“I was hoping to find you here,” the familiar deep timber of Lord Hightower’s voice.

He kneels beside you with a gruff groan. Otto Hightower is not a man you speak with often, and by choice. An intimating man through and through.

“I am glad to see you are well,” he starts blowing out one of the incense sticks. “Especially after what happened at the feast.”

As Hand of the King, and now acting in place of Viserys as his health declines, it should not surprise you he knows. It is his job to know everything, but mentions of your behavior still makes you shift nervously.

“It is a shamed. What bullishness can bring; Aemond has always been too proud for his own good, even when wrong.”

You furrow your eyes, and turn to look at him as he continues.

“You and your children are very important to this family, especially now,” he says softly.

He means your money is important to him. He means the fleet that sits on the outside west of Westeros is important to him.

“So, if you still want that problem taken care of permanently. There are those that would be happy to find her and do that.”

Talk of murder in the sept… the irony is not lost on you. Killing Alys means possibly murdering a child. It was one the reasons why you felt so guilty about what happened at the feast. Larys had told you sick rumors, one about what she does to her children. Though your expectation of her are low, you can not imagine even her doing such heinous things. Her state leaves you utterly confused.

Your silence seems to give him all the answers he needs.

“I will leave you to your prayers,” Otto starts to get up.

Alaric’s babbling grows as Daella rubs his head while Jayne holds him. Your babies.

You grab Otto’s hand before he can fully get up.

“After the deed is done, bury her near Harrenhal. Let her be on her ancestral home,” you say lowly, eyes trained on your children before flittering over to his.

Otto gives you a head and a smile before getting up.

Targaryens take care of their own. It is time you do the same. The Mother will understand.

Aemond is tense, even more than usual. At first you thought he knew. That maybe he could smell the anguish on you. The suspicions of him knowing about you giving his grandsire the go ahead diminished when you learned that Rhaenyra and her family were coming back to the Red Keep.

With the Driftmark claim up in the air, the castle is expecting many visitors.

A part of you can not blame Aemond for being on guard. The history between the other side of his family is bad for obvious reasons. There will also be a divide and uneasy feeling now.

It is the anxious feeling that washes over when you see Prince Daemon walking towards you. Instinctively clutch Alaric closer to you, bouncing him as he begins to fuss. With all the self-assurance in the world, there is something eye catching about the bravado Daemon Targaryen has. His confidence would be a trait you admired if it did not often go hand in hand with his arrogance.

The last time you saw the Prince was at your wedding. A surprise to everyone, especially Alicent and Viserys. The joy Viserys showed when seeing his brother dimmed when Daemon made it clear he was not staying afterwards. Lady Baela and Lady Rhaena, his daughters, sending well wishes and gorgeous jewelry. Pearls from the Driftmark Seas and rubies earrings that you are sure from Pentos. Your family frequented Pentos during the summers when you were younger, the three of you crossing paths briefly during that time.

His appearance at your wedding was a confusing to both Aemond and you, especially since he came alone. No Rhaenyra in sight. A crude choice on the princess’ part your mother remarked.

“Ah there is my niece and my grandnephew,” his smile is bright. Brighter than you expected considering why he is here, and the state his brother is in.

You were expecting a cold reception, one to the match the treatment they received. You exchanged a knowing look with Aegon when all of you were told not to greet them on their arrival.

A fake smile fights to replace the furrowed look on your face.

“Prince Daemon, I hope your trip from Dragonstone was well,” you catch how his eyes instantly go to Alaric in your arms. The Godswood is quiet except for you two, and the sound of chirping birds.

“Would have been smoother on dragon back,” he shrugs. “I am glad to see all is well.”

He holds his arms out expectedly. You blink at him, and his blinks back; realizing he is not one to back down, you gently hand over Alaric. Alaric tiny hand reaches out to touch the shiny material of Daemon’s coat.

Daemon resolves brightens even more when Alaric is placed in his arms. You know him and Rhaenyra have had children, with one on the way. You wonder if that positive disposition has been shown to Baela and Rhaena. Or even to Rhaenyra’s other children.

“He looks like his father,” he gives you a sly smile. This time you can not try to muster up a fake smile. “How is he, your husband?”

He is goading you. Even from the handful of times you have been around Daemon, you know he likes playing these games. Riddles and leg pulling; he likes knocking people on their asses. It is the warrior in him.

“He is doing well,” short and sweet, the best way to go you think. Daemon gives you smirk in return. As if in his head, he is laughing at a joke that you are clearly not in on. You tilt your head in confusion.

“That is good to hear,” he does nothing to squash the curious look on your face. The uneasiness comes back. Thankfully before it can go any further, Helaena calls your name from across the garden, stating that Daella wanted to show you something. You can tell by the smile she gives you, it is a lie. You are once again reminded of why you are eternally grateful to call her sister.

“Duty calls.”

His tone is light but his eyes say something more. What they say is something you are still unsure of. He hands Alaric back to you. As you walk away, you can feel his eyes on your back.

The fleeting happiness you got from seeing Baela and Rhaena came to a screeching halt once the petitions are heard the Great Hall.

Who held the throne of Driftmark after Lord Corlys eventually passes was of no consequences. Everyone knew this was for something bigger. To call Lucerys Velaryon’s claim into question meant calling his mother’s as well. There was a sense of disappoint that tugs at you when the doors swept open to show a hunched, and rotting Viserys. His ability to prioritize Rhaenyra over his other children should not surprise you, but as a mother it still makes you upset. You can’t imagine not fiercely defending both of your kids equally. You see the looks on Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena’s faces; it tells you everything, more than the look on Rhaenyra’s.

You raise a brow at Rhaena from across the room when her grandmother announces her and her sister’s betrothals. She shrugs back at you. You want to let out a sardonic laugh. Another generation of girls bound by what good for their parents, bound by what will be good for others.

Thoughts are broken by Lord Vaemond Velaryon’s angry words ringing out. His actions may not be what you have done, but you understand his ire. There is a irony to House Targaryen, one that fiercely protects its own blood to the point of incest, snuffing out another house.

Daemon has a look in his eye. Much like the one he gave you when he asked about Aemond. He is itching for a reason to say or do something. Vaemond gives the perfect opportunity.

Loud gasp fall over the Great Hall when Vaemond body and head hit the ground… separate from each other. Both Helaena and you instinctively turn away in shock. You do not consider yourself a squeamish person, but there is something about it that makes your stomach churn. Aemond’s hand goes to yours, and he squeezes it. You can’t remember the last time you two have held hands.

It could be the obviously grotesque nature of it all. Or how inconsequential lives seem to those who get in the way of this family. It makes you think of Alys. Are you like that now? Years of being in this family making it easy for you to digest moving pieces on a board?

Vaemond’s body gets carried out, with Rhaenys following closely behind. The Queen Who Never Was; life riddled with loss, and now her good brother can be added to the list. You wait for Aemond to let go of your hand, but once Rhaenyra and Alicent finish watching Viserys leave the Great Hall, she sets her eyes on you.

“I was hoping we could have tea,” she eyes Aemond who makes no effort to move from semi in front of you.

Rhaenyra is a hard person to say no to, and she clearly knows it. So, when you simply nod, she gives you smile. She holds out her arm for you to take it. As you two walk out of the Great Hall, you look back. You expect to see Aemond or Aegon looking at you, but instead your eyes catch Alicent’s.

A sad look of longing etched into her pretty face.

“They are darling,” Rhaenyra remarks in a hushed tone as you two watch Daella interact with little Aegon and Viserys. Alaric resting near the two of you.

Jayne had made sure tea and mini tarts had been brought to the Princess’ chambers.

“I am secretly hoping this one is a girl.”

She smiles softly at you, rubbing her swollen belly. You know she must crave that bond between mother and daughter, especially after the untimely death of her own.

“I was surprised you wanted to have tea,” the small talk was sweet, but you knew it was leading to something else. Your walls up even more after your conversation with her husband.

“I was worried that you might have took me not coming to your wedding as… a slight on you,” she starts. “That was never the case. I just felt that it would be best for me and my children to stay away.”

Outside of the snide comment made my your mother and Alicent, her absence did not concern you. You keep that you think Aemond was happy she was not there to yourself. It had been years, and you could count on one hand how many times you thought about it.

“Jacaerys was quite upset with me,” she laughs a bit. “I think he wanted to see if it was actually happening. Uncle Aemond getting married to pretty girl from court.”

You did not return the laugh. You knew little of her oldest boys, the only things you have heard came from Aemond and Aegon. Not positive representations you are sure.

“As we move past that, I want to say that if you need anything, I am here. If you need any help… any advice or a place to stay. You are welcome at Dragonstone.”

The words make your wandering eyes snap to hers. Rhaenyra gives you a look. The Realm’s Delight sitting across from you in all her glory. Her form of intimidation is different from her husband or her half brothers. A presence that is hard to come by, and even more difficult to replicate.

They know.

You don’t know how, but they do. They are dangling it in front of your face. Taunting you, and your crumbling marriage. Showing weakness at this point will do you no good, not until you have proof or an explanation.

“Thank you Princess,” you lean over to pick up Alaric gently. You need to get out of here. “If I need any advice on fickle men, I will come to you. I know have your fair share of experience with that.”

Rhaenyra’s confident look flatters a bit. She hums softly.

“Daella love, let us go see how grandmother is doing,” you pick an excuse to leave. The mention of Alicent makes Rhaenyra frown. Her light eyes darkening with sadness.

As you leave the the Princess’ chambers, it comes to you. How the hell did Aemond and Alys even meet?

You have seen first hand that being around her grandchildren is the only time Alicent happy. Unabashedly sweet and warm; dimples on full display. The two of you had not had a real conversation since the feast, but you knew better than to keep your kids away from their grandmother. It was the quickest way to anger her.

“Rhaenyra would not do that,” her tone reminds you so much of her son. So certain, as if it was an insult to question the virtue of the people they… love. “Maybe she actually wants to help.”

“They both know. I cannot explain it, but they know about Alys or they at least know she was here.”

Her shoulder slump as Alaric reaches out to touch the large seven pointed star dangling from her neck. Alicent’s ability to defend Rhaenyra will always leave you a bit speechless. If one of the boys ever said something disparaging about their half-sister, Alicent was the first to give them a warning look. She was allowed to be upset, they were not. A fractured relationship being held together by longing.

“I understand it…. How hard it is,” you shuffle closer to her. “Having your mind consumed by someone who does not extend that same grace for your feelings.”

“I did not think she would go after the children,” Alicent whispers. “I get why you would want her…”

She trails off. Her big eyes get glassy, and she swallows thickly. She does not say anything as she looks into fire. She reminds you of a painted tapestry. Beautiful and tragic.

“Princess Rhaenyra may not have orchestrated anything. But do we put it past Prince Daemon?”

“We will figure it out,” Alicent says after a bit of silence. “You are right, something is off.”

A thought comes to your mind. “Do you know what Prince Daemon for Aemond as wedding gift?”

Daemon never got you a gift, simply giving you the ones Baela and Rhaena sent. But you vividly remember him getting Aemond something. Alicent thinks for a second for her brows raise in realization.

“A book of stories about warriors from the across the Realm,” how was he putting that to good use, “Oh, a map of the red keep. I silly wedding gift if you ask me.”

She shrugs. Your eyes go to fire to. A map seems inconsequential enough, but as your growing paranoia seeps into everything it becomes clear.

You must find this map.

Tag list (sorry to anyone I miss): @callsign-blue @hydrationqueensworld @flowerpotmage @giulia2372 @lol-im-done @dc-marvel-girl96 @iwanttohitmyself @crazylokonugget @xkennobi @tiddieshakeshownu @lwqfhp @lyra689 @ietss @enbywan @rialikesbts @lyannesworld @mendes-bae @123forgottherest @yentroucnagol @cecespizza01 @mihrimahsultan03 @hotd-fic @the-time-is-a-thief @kaicyl @ly17 @bbylime @stella-cadente @bellameshipper @happinessinthebeing @shamelessblazecrown @whodis-26 @queenofshinigamis @minthermie @aloneatpeace @psychadelichues @oh-thats-cute @vgucciking @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @zondereleutheromania @liathelioness @msmarvel-19 @archikina @lady-stark-winter-rose @dcfamily5807

#aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #my writing #house of the dragon #black!reader #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen angst

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blissfullsvn · 9 days

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zomnextdoor

pairing: boynextdoor (ot6) x reader genre: zombie apocalypse!au, fluff, angst word count: 2.6k (0.4k–0.5k each) warnings: zombies (surprising), violence (towards the zombies + one depiction of bashing a zombie in the head), implied major character death a/n: in light of bnd's 1st anniv, the new what?door! ep coming soon, & the sudden influx of 좀넥도 content on k-onedoor twt, i hereby present my brainrot to you. enjoy! (p.s. some scenarios are untagged bcs they're not rly fluff... but also not angst...) masterlist

sungho

archer!sungho, 0.4k

sungho is at archery practice when he hears it; the screams around the school, so incredibly raw that he knows they'll echo in his mind again and again, long after today.

he finds out the reason just a few moments later, far sooner than he can properly digest the disconcerting noises. seeing the glass doors crash and break into a million pieces is a sight, but the true sight comes a second later, when the cause of the destruction hurtles towards them.

and he freezes. it’s just for a beat, but a beat too long. he sees the exact movements of the rotten fingers reaching for him, so unmistakable it’s as if he's viewing it in slow-motion, then something in him finally clicks. he instantly ducks down, which happens the same time he feels something tug at his wrist, but his scream doesn't get to escape his throat when he hears yours.

“sungho sunbae!” you yell as you maneuver around the onslaught of rotting bodies. you’re dragging him towards the staircase leading to the second level of your practice area, because archers will always have the upper hand from longer distances. “what the hell are you doing?”

it’s an immediate reality check. he looks around, and it’s chaos; there are zombies flowing in from every exit, screams and shouts being heard from within and outside the room, and the distinct sound of arrows being shot. he looks back to you, who’s running in front of him and pulling him along to keep him safe.

you’re right. what is he doing? everyone knows that as an archer, agility is one of the essentials, but he had nearly lost himself from a moment of hesitance. he feels even more embarrassed that you, who has always claimed to be his super fan, is saving his ass literally single-handedly by using the back of your bow to shove the zombies away because your other hand is wrapped around his wrist.

at the realisation, he grips his own bow tighter in his hands and promptly turns around despite your protests.

“take care of my back. i’ll handle this,” he says as he walks backwards, aiming his bow at the herd.

riwoo

angst, 0.4k warning: implied major character death

riwoo prides himself in staying calm, even in the most extreme situations. but somehow, it shocks even himself that this statement still rings true in a national crisis.

when he hears screams so loud they burst through the music blasting in their dance practice, he doesn’t hide the raise of his eyebrows. however, he doesn’t mention anything, considering none of his members seem affected.

when the noise doesn't cease, instead growing by the second, he raises a hand to signal a pause in their practice. one of the members runs to turn off the music, and the immediate juxtaposition that occurs is more than unsettling. with the room abruptly falling into pin-drop silence, the flood of screams rattling the walls is even more prominent. that’s when the dancers start to grow wary.

despite this, riwoo is calm. he’s confused, but not frantic. even when the doors of the practice room burst open and you stagger inside in terrified hurry, he’s calm. even when he notices the red patch of fabric on your arm that you’re clutching tightly, he’s calm. even when you’re trudging towards him with a weird gait, he’s calm. even when he's gesturing to the rest of the members to leave the room, knowing he’ll be left alone with you, he’s calm.

it’s weird, he thinks as he watches all of his members run for their lives before his eyes fall back to yours, noting the way the recognition in them is flickering. it’s weird how, instead of following his team, he’s reaching out to thumb at your tears, which only prompts more to flow down.

he thinks so again as he wraps his arms around you, tightening his hold like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to do this. with you in his arms, he can clearly feel the unusual twitches from your body, and yet he’s still calm.

when you cup riwoo’s face with shaky hands, scanning his face as if to engrave it in your memory, he only offers the warmest smile he can. he tries to do the same; to capture this moment to the fullest. so when he sees the exact moment your eyes turn unfamiliar, he lets go of himself as well.

jaehyun

football player!jaehyun, fluff, 0.4k

if someone told jaehyun that within just a few minutes, he would receive a confession from his nine-month crush before his football match and immediately get thrown into a life or death situation, he’d laugh at them for saying nonsense.

but that’s exactly what happened.

“wait, did i hear that correctly?” jaehyun is bewildered, eyes nearly popping out of his sockets. “you… like me?”

you twiddle with your fingers and nod slowly. like this, you look even cuter than usual, and jaehyun is practically melting; it takes everything in him to not squeeze your cheeks. looking at his round eyes that are even rounder from the shock, you ask timidly, “are you going to reject me?”

“reject?!” it comes off louder than intended, but it shows just how much he’s in disbelief. “how could i ever reject you?” he lets out softly, directly reflecting the expression on his face.

the way you brighten up immediately is a sight to behold, one jaehyun would like to keep dear to himself forever. this moment is unfortunately cut short when he hears screams from the bleachers.

jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “what? have the others gone out already?” he peeks out of the locker rooms.

at first, he’s confused. there's no one on the field, but the screams are increasing by the second. everyone in the audience is scurrying frantically, running and pushing past one another. despite his own apprehension, he senses your tenseness behind him and quickly cracks a joke to ease you first. “don’t tell me they’re this terrified of a mickey mouse?” he laughs, turning to look at you, but his face drops immediately.

you’re horrified. you’re watching the scene as if you’re seeing something from your nightmares come to life, and the look on your face makes him think that maybe you are. he feels himself grow antsy at your drastic reaction, and he understands why when he turns back to the field again.

if there’s one thing in the world he’s more terrified of than ghosts, it’s the possibility of an infectious virus outbreak that threatens humanity in all aspects.

and he’s witnessing it happen right now.

for a football player, his legs are utterly useless now as he wobbles from his own weight. before he can drop to the ground fully, you’re already next to him and hoisting him up.

“jaehyun,” you call, and he’s surprised at the firmness of your tone, a complete contrast from the meekness before. “hold onto me tightly, okay?” you interlock your fingers together and take a step forward, standing in front of him. “we're gonna have to run.”

taesan

fluff, 0.5k

both you and taesan are aware of how terrible this could go.

you’re in the music room, surrounded by instruments of all sorts. in normal circumstances, these instruments would be as welcoming as a warm hug, offering the solace you needed after a long day. now, seeing them only makes uneasiness zap through your veins.

you don’t have time to ponder your decision again when you hear the inhuman noises you’ve unfortunately grown familiar with. after ensuring the doors are locked well, you stride to your makeshift stage by the windows, where taesan is standing by the keyboard. he nods at the window, where a rope's hanging from the highest floor down to the ground, and you mimic the gesture before slinging your bass over your shoulders.

your fingers immediately find their positions on the instrument from muscle memory, which puts a flash of a smile on your face. you look at taesan, who's already looking at you, and he nods reassuringly.

he smiles, “shall we play for our biggest audience yet?”

for the briefest of moments, you hear a pin-drop silence that you haven’t been able to experience since the outbreak. you shut your eyes, taking it in. then, before you realise, the bass is echoing throughout the speakers.

you look at taesan as you play, both to help your nerves from the crowd that you know will be right outside anytime soon, and to live this moment to the fullest. after all, you’re not sure whether you’ll be able to ever do this again.

taesan shares the same sentiment, because he’s soon opening his mouth to yell out the lyrics of your go-to song, the one that’s been yours ever since you joined the band together.

you flicker your eyes over to the herd that has arrived outside the room, banging at the doors and windows as they try to enter. despite the situation, looking at taesan and the way he’s relishing the music puts a smile on your face, so much that even when you see cracks start to form in the doors, you don’t feel an overwhelming sense of despair.

when you notice that the doors are bending more under the weight, you and taesan share a nod; the cue for him to step away from the keyboard and climb onto the rope behind you. it’s the final part of the song, the bass solo, which is also nearing the final part of your plan.

the second you hit the last note, you unceremoniously swing the bass towards the door and jump into taesan's arms, just in time for the doors to break down.

leehan

taekwondo athlete!leehan, 0.4k warning: one depiction of bashing a zombie in the head

the peace of leehan’s nap gets shattered when he hears the thud of the door, immediately followed by irritating growls and a poorly muffled scream. he’s ready to ignore it until he hears the cart of balls being pulled away and crashing into something, presumably the zombie itself, which has not only pierced his eardrums but also unveiled his hiding place to sleep in the gym’s storage room.

he sighs. dropping the open book covering his face, he stands up and adjusts the lollipop in his mouth before placing his hands in his pockets. he walks towards the opposite corner of the room, where the source of the disturbance finally comes into view.

you’re cowering behind a stack of mats. despite the top of your head clearly peeking out, you don’t dare to look at anything beyond the faux shield. he merely spares one glance at you before he turns to the problem itself. then, he notes that it’s either the zombie has strength that’s off the charts, or you’re incredibly bad at pushing and aiming, because the cart is nowhere near the zombie and is by the wall instead.

he shrugs off the observation when he sees the zombie staggering towards him, and he slowly takes a few steps back. then, in an action as swift as the wind, he twists his body in a semicircular motion and delivers a kick right to the zombie’s head, effectively bashing it onto the floor—all the while keeping his hands in his pockets and the lollipop dangling over his lips.

you’ve since looked up from your hiding spot, and there’s a newfound expression on your face. however, when you look back at the twitching body on the floor, the fear returns at once.

leehan looks over to you, and in the most nonchalant tone, as if he hadn’t just casually roundhouse-kicked a zombie, he says, “don't lure them in here. they're so loud.”

you can only offer a shaky nod, and then he’s walking back to his original position. but when he sees you stand up and stumble towards the door, he halts in his steps and turns to face you completely.

“didn’t you hear what i said? you'll lure them in if you open the door. just stay here.”

woonhak

0.5k

you’ve never had a proper interaction with woonhak, but from the bits of information you’ve unwillingly gathered due to his popularity, your impression of him isn’t the best. he’s loud, boisterous, and sometimes just rowdy; you can’t help but note him as this immature kid in your head.

but your prejudice has been completely shattered today.

when the signs of a virus outbreak first appeared in your school, starting with your classmate who had entered the class with a ghostly pale complexion and nosebleed, all you knew was you had to run. and that’s all you’ve been doing for the past hour, burning your muscles and lungs without stopping to narrowly avoid the grasp of death.

until you found yourself tripping over a stack of tables, and your legs got trapped under all the tables that had toppled over you.

when you tried to pull your legs out, all it did was cause the tables to fall even more, making it harder for you to move at all. the noise had also attracted the zombies roaming endlessly, so when you saw silhouettes dashing towards the room after your futile attempts to get yourself up, you had already resigned yourself to your fate—the mangled jaws right before your eyes, to which you shut your eyes and braced yourself for the inevitable.

then you heard the groans from the herd in front of you, followed by the weight on your legs lessening and the crash of something across the room, and you immediately opened your eyes.

there, standing in front of you, is kim woonhak. he has a table in his hands, the flat surface facing him and the legs outwards, using it to hold back the herd before you with a wince.

you don’t know how, but he manages to hold the table in one hand and reach out with his other hand to grab onto another table over your legs, hurling it across the room.

you watch him do this for a few moments, until it finally clicks that the noise is too loud. you search around the room frantically for something—anything—you could do to help, and your eyes soon land on a baseball bat a short distance away.

“woonhak,” you call.

“yeah?” he grimaces, struggling to use the table as a shield when the crowd seems to grow by the second.

“are you good with a baseball bat?” you ask, holding up the weapon.

he turns to you for a split second, seeing the bat before he faces the front again. he instantly catches what you’re insinuating, and his decision is a no-brainer.

“pass it,” he reaches out his hand without looking.

you’re surprised, but you don't waste another second before giving it to him. almost immediately, he drops his makeshift shield, and what you see next completely repaints your image of him. by the time you’re able to get yourself out, he has already cleared half of them. it seems you're constantly getting surprised today.

before he can pass out, you quickly tap on his shoulder and grab the bat from him without asking. “thanks a lot, woonhak. take a breather; i’ll take care of the rest.”

a/n: half of this was easy to write, and half was hell. guess which one was which

fyi, i wrote this with them all being high school students in mind, but you don't have to imagine them like this! except for woonhak ofc

anw, don't ask me why i wrote riwoo's part like that bcs i hv no idea either. it just felt right. so enjoy... hopefully...

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ohraicodoll · 1 year

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ok but listen, feral!reader picking up ellie from the hospital with Joel...

God, they would slaughter together.

God help any motherfucker who stands in their way.

Violent Ends Joel Miller x f!Reader The Last of Us 2.6k Words/ 3rd POV Feral Reader Masterlist Summary: They find the Fireflies and one by one, the lights go out. Warning: Violence. Spoilers for TLOU Ep 9 and the end of TLOU Part 1.

The moment feels frozen in time, right before the flash grenade went off. It’d been a month since Denver. A month since finding both Ellie and Red in the snow, covered in blood. That desperation that had driven him awake and to his feet, driven him to walk through miles of icy wind and snow to find them, had all at once flooded out of him. Because they were alive and together and that’s all that had mattered.

It’d been hard dealing with all their wounds. Joel was still healing from the stab wound and had to be caught up to speed, his need to take over the role of caretaker making it hard for him to relax and rest. It didn’t help that Red was exhausted, injured, and they all needed taking care of. Ellie had murdered the man, David. Had gone through hell and back and was changed because of it. She had such awful nightmares those first couple of weeks. Nights where she would scream herself awake and when they went to hold her, she would thrash in their arms. Too many nights of either of them holding her, rocking her gently back to sleep like she was a baby. Unbelievable damage had been done to all of them and for once, Joel was finding himself being the one to try and to tug everyone out of the darkness. He tried what he could to remind the girl of the good, show her fond memories, get her to laugh or even just be a little shit. Too many late nights talking with the woman at his side about what to do about her. Too many long silences, the absence of constant chatter noticeable. There were moments when Ellie seemed fine again and then the next she was gone, eyes dark and glazed over. PTSD, Red had murmured. It was hard for her too. It’d been a long time since killing had affected her and she wasn’t sure what to do to comfort Ellie. They continued on to Salt Lake City. Something about finally reaching their destination, the end of this big journey, had felt too much and he was anxious. Ellie was determined, no matter how much he said they didn’t have to go through it with, to reach the Fireflies. No cans of Chef Boyardee or promises to teach her guitar or gentle ribbing deterred her. Just the promise that she would follow them wherever they wanted to go after the job was done. At the back of his mind, he remembered Red telling him that when the job was done, she may go her separate ways. But she didn’t bring it up again and he wasn’t going to be the one to remind her. He didn’t want her to leave, couldn’t imagine it. He wanted to grab both of them by the hand, shove them in a car, and drive them straight back to Jackson. He wanted to see Ellie smile and joke again. He wanted to have them safe under the same roof without worrying who was coming for them. Joel wanted to take the time to explore every inch of Red without distraction, see her finally unguarded and at ease. He wanted them with him at his side, happy and taken care of.

But they had to finish it all. The moment before the flash grenade exploded, he’d been mid chuckle. His chest had felt light at the fact Ellie was finally laughing again, both of them arguing over shitty puns, and his eyes had found Red. She’d been smiling at him and he had wondered how many times she had ever actually smiled at him. Not at Ellie, but him and how he wanted to see it more. Then they heard the sharp metallic ping of something hit the ground and his head felt like it was going to explode. The world went dark. They’d found the Fireflies but the cost was Ellie. He had never really questioned how they would get the cure from the girl. Science wasn’t his forte so he had figured they would take some samples, run some tests, and then they would be on their way. But it’d been so stupid to be that naive. Cordyceps grew on the brain. He knew that and it had never clicked that the whole journey there had been a death procession. Marlene’s face as she said she understood his pain was bullshit. She didn’t understand anything. She didn’t understand what it was like to raise a little girl only to have her die in her arms. What it was like to live in bitterness and hatred only to find another miracle child and keep her safe against the world. How many lives and bodies had followed in his and Red’s wake to make sure she was okay only to deliver her to her death. Marlene didn’t understand shit because Ellie wasn’t her kid. She was theirs. And she expected them to simply walk away and rinse their hands of her? She gave the order to escort him out, telling him his companion would be let out separately as soon as she was awake. They had to sedate her after she broke one of their arms when she woke up. Joel’s mind was racing. On a feedback loop, that moment before the grenade went off played over and over again. Ellie’s laugh. Red’s smile. That feeling in his chest. His girls. His girls. He’d had panic attacks before, had been knocked breathless with pain at the thought of harm coming to them and the fear he would fail them. But he wasn’t going to fail them this time. He wasn’t losing anyone anymore. Ice cold violence washed over him as he took care of the two soldiers in the stairwell. It was so easy to pull the trigger again and again. Bodies fell to the floor one after another as he worked his way towards where the soldier had mentioned Red was kept. He’d get her and then they’d get Ellie and leave. The world could fucking burn if it meant Ellie would live and if anyone understood that, it was her.

He found her a floor up from where he was kept, his bullets finding Fireflies one by one. Their lights blinking out. Her bag was kept under the nurse’s station, some of her belongings spread out on the counter. They’d dug through them. Joel made sure to carefully put everything back exactly how he knew she liked it, knowing how attached she was to every single thing, and kicked open the door where she was being held. They’d tied her arms to the wall radiator with rope, blindfold over her eyes and her head lolled to the side. Rage filled him at the sight of her that way, like a wild animal caught in a trap. She’d scared them. Scared them enough they didn’t want her to recognize their faces, to be able to see the fear in their eyes. Satisfaction filled him at that fact. He made sure to gently cut through the rope with Ellie’s switchblade, rubbing the raw skin around her wrists, and was lifting the blindfold off when she jerked awake, thrashing immediately. Her nails were sharp and dug into his neck, drawing deep scratches, before he could catch her wrists. Her wild eyes were unfocused and he shushed her, speaking gently, “It’s me, it’s just me. I got ya.” Pupils dilated and eyes blinking rapidly, it took her a bit to come to realize who was talking to her, “Joel?” “It’s me, darlin,” he whispered, releasing her wrists and cupping her cheeks, “It’s me. We have to get you up and going, we don’t have much time.” “Where-” she licked her dry lips, voice raspy, and looked around the room with a furrowed brow, “Where’s Ellie? What happened?” His teeth grit and he wondered if he should lie to her. Tell her these people weren’t the Fireflies and had taken the girl, let her unleash unholy hell onto them. But this was Red and it didn’t matter who these people were to her. She wouldn’t care because the fact remained that they had taken Ellie and weren’t giving her back. “We found the Fireflies,” Joel spit out, “They’re going to kill her. To make the cure. They have to kill her to get it.” He didn’t have to explain what he was planning to do. They had always worked well, able to silently communicate without a single word passed between them. They were going to kill Ellie. That was all he had to say. Because if anyone understood what his choice was going to be, it would be her. Joel could see it. The moment the statement sunk in, her brain landing on the same frequency as his. They were going to kill Ellie. Ellie. They were going to kill their kid. Fuck a cure, fuck these people, fuck all of humanity. He’d seen that same look in her eye when he’d found them in Denver, her face and clothes coated in blood that wasn’t hers and fingers digging into Ellie tightly as if she’d disappear into the wind if she let go. Rage, pure and decimating. She’d burn the world to the ground and salt the earth afterwards. He handed over her pack and she quickly strapped it on before taking the spare pistol he had grabbed from one of the soldiers. “How many?” she bit out and rose to her feet. “A lot.” “Okay,” was all she replied before checking her magazine clip and nodding towards the door, “You lead.” And that was that. She was his shadow, that silent communication taking over like when they were back in the wilderness. He’d turn and fire and she would be there, having his back as he reloaded and checked the corners. If his gun clicked empty before finishing a soldier, her knife would find the target. Quick and brutal and efficient. Red didn’t hesitate. Even as some of the soldiers begged, she was quick to end them, picking up their gun and continuing on. They moved with brutal proficiency through the floors, bodies and blood and bullets falling in their wake. When they needed to know what floor Ellie was being held on, they grabbed a person and she’d dug her knife into their thigh, getting the information before slitting their throat. One of them would grab a bottle and toss it, causing a distraction and giving the other an opening to mow down the Fireflies.

Mercy was not something they considered. They had taken their kid, taken Ellie, they were going to kill her and that meant no one would be left alive. No loose ends, no one to come after them. She saw what had happened last time in Denver when they left loose ends. David’s group had happened. Blood and fire had happened. They wouldn’t make the same mistake again. When they reached the pediatric floor, it was quiet, empty. The painted childlike imagery on the walls didn’t help their anger. Pediatric floor. For children. Yet here these people were, about to kill their daughter for the good of mankind. This is where kids came to be saved, not murdered. Red’s body was humming with energy at his back and he knew that if he wanted to, he could unleash her and let her rip everyone to shreds even if it meant she’d hurt herself. She was a weapon to be used however he saw fit and it would be so easy to let her do it. But Joel wasn’t losing either of them. No, he was walking out with both of them at his side, safe so they could go back home together. The slight murmur of voices drew them closer to the operating room. The sight of his baby girl in a hospital gown on a table sent pain rushing through him. Ellie looked so small, hair undone and laid out around her and contraptions attached. None of the spitfire energy she usually had, no smirk, no grin at annoying him or frustrated frown when Red got after her. These people didn’t know who they were going to kill for their cure. Didn’t know the amazing girl the world would lose for them to gain a future. The surgeon looked up and was startled at seeing both of them there. Joel doesn’t remember exactly what he said, only that the doctor had grabbed the scalpel and then he shot at the same time Red did beside him. The doctor fell and the nurses did too, dropping to the ground in a splatter of blood. Just more bodies in their wake. They didn’t waste any time. Quickly drawing the IV out of her vein, Red grabbed tape and gently wrapped it while Joel worked to unhook Ellie from the machines. He couldn’t help but press a kiss to her hair and whispered, “We’re here, baby girl. Let’s go home.” “I’ll cover the rear, you carry her, and we’ll go to the garage. There has to be vehicles there,” Red bit out, “We may have stragglers show up.” He nodded and pulled Ellie off the table and into his arms, leading the way out of the room and into the hallway. As predicted, there were stragglers. A few soldiers were running from the back stairwells, guns raised. He kept going, trusting Red to have his back. Joel trusted her with both their lives and knew she wouldn’t let anything happen to them. Especially not so close to the finish line. Sure enough, he could hear her open fire, the telltale sounds of screams and pained grunts echoing around them before the thuds of bodies hitting the ground. Leave no loose ends. The mantra played through his mind as they entered the garage and saw Marlene there. It played when he turned to look at Red, her eyes borrowing holes into Marlene’s with a rage he’d only seen a few times. And it played when he pulled the trigger on the gun he was holding underneath Ellie’s legs. “You’d just come after her.”

___________________________

Red didn’t protest against anything he told Ellie. He knew she wouldn’t, but to see her trust him fully to take the lead on the explanation made him reach across the center console and grab her hand. Her hands were still bright pink from scrubbing the blood off them, wiping away any evidence before Ellie would wake up. Raiders. Barely made it out. No cure to be found. No one left. Her fingers intertwined with his, gripping them back after checking on the sleeping girl curled up in a ball on the back seat. “Back to Jackson,” Red murmured, blinking up at him under her lashes. The sun reflected off her cheekbones, lighting up her hair. “Back to Jackson,” Joel replied and gave her hand a squeeze. “You sure you want me around civilized folk?” she whispered and rubbed at a spot of blood in her jeans, hair falling into her face. The question was said jokingly but tentative. Do you want me around? You said there was no happy ending. Their past arguments swirled in his head and he cursed the man he had been, the one who had put that doubt there. “Fuck civilized folk,” Joel assured her easily, hand on the steering wheel gripping it tightly, “I need my girls with me. Who else is going to help me look after our kid.” Our kid. Because Ellie was. She was theirs. Not by genetics but they were family tied together by blood and violence and something that ran so much deeper. Red had killed for them like they all had killed for each other. Joel would kill hundreds to keep both of them safe. She smiled softly, head tilting back to lean against the headrest and blood still slightly smeared on her neck. Joel’s eyes focused on her mouth, the tilt of her lips as it curled up and the fact it was aimed at him. Just like before the flash grenade went off. He was taking his girls home.

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