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popopretty · 4 months

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[Translation] Asagiri Kafka's afterwords for The Day I Picked up Dazai novel

Normally, afterwords would be the last thing I read in a novel, but as there are not many changes to the published novel this time compared to the movie bonus version, I was able to skim through the text quickly and get to this. And to be honest, despite not being a writer myself, I was so moved by Asagiri's views about writing and his characters that he shared in the afterwords, that I had to sit down and translate it right away.

This is just my crappy translation, as usual, but I hope it gave you a short, interesting look into the author and the characters. And please do not forget to buy the novel if you have the chance.

The translation is under the cut, thank you!

It has been a while. This is Asagiri Kafka.

Have you been enjoying Bungou Stray Dogs?

This novel, “The Day I Picked up Dazai”, is a compilation of the first week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side A” and the second week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side B” for the screening of “Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST” movie (hereinafter referred to as “BEAST”).

Normally, it is difficult to publish a bonus like this, but since "BEAST” and “Fifteen” that were published earlier by BEANS Bunko were originally bonus novels too, "The Day I Picked up Dazai” was also published in the same way, thanks to the efforts of all parties involved in the Bungou Stray Dogs series.

It is the story of Dazai and Odasaku’s first meeting, where Dazai who wants to die, collapsed in front of Odasaku’s place, who is neither a mafioso nor a hit man.

Why are there two different stores, Side A and Sode B? Regarding this question, please read the novel and see for yourself. If you keep in mind that this is the bonus for the BEAST movie, I think you will be able to understand it better.

Let me reminisce a little bit here.

This story was actually suggested to me by Igarashi Takuya, Director of the Bungou Stray Dogs anime.

Shortly before BEAST movie premiered, I was struggling. It was because I was asked to write a bonus novel for movie-goers again. I said “again” because, as I mentioned earlier, BEAST itself was a bonus novel for the Bungou Stray Dogs DEAD APPLE movie. I remembered having a hard time writing it, because I let myself run wild and wrote a total of 190 pages instead of 50 pages as requested.

But I had learnt my lesson after the last rampage. I can’t just write whatever I want anymore. I have to wrap the story in a reasonable length, like a pro should do.

A proper, professional story.

Huh?

My pen stopped right there. I stopped, looked around, feeling lost.

What is a proper story?

The act of writing novel is quite different in character compared to other types of media such as writing manga, anime scripts, or game scenarios. You can say it is almost a different thing. Writing novels, rather than narrating an event, is more like putting the flow of emotions into specific sentences. You use the sequence of letters to create rhythms, create flows, and create emotions. If anything, it might be closer to composing a song than writing a story.

Therefore, you have to decide “what kind of emotion will be put in this novel” from the very beginning, or you can’t start writing. That is the only and absolute rule.

Now, however, that is where the condition of a “proper story” hung over me.

A proper novel, of a proper volume, with a proper content for a bonus.

In other words, a proper emotion.

I searched through the drawers inside my head. For a proper emotion that is waiting to be brought out.

There was nothing but emptiness there.

A professional story teller is one with the skill to move the readers’ emotions. When people find the chance to move their own emotions, they will happily be paying for it. Human-being is that kind of creature.

And writers are ones who create and sell those kinds of emotions: the fear, the excitement, the heart throb etc., those that make you think. It is that kind of job.

It is supposed to be that kind of job.

Yet I became unable to move forward.

A good story is a story that moves people. I know that. Then what kind of emotion I should put in the story to make it "proper"?

How do I find that emotion?

I mean, how did I even write novels until now?

I stood still. My legs stiffened, my knees froze, unable to take even a step forward.

I then tried to at least pretend that I was moving forward, by listening to music, by taking a walk around the neighborhood at night. But as good as the night breeze felt, I didn’t manage to reach a single story that I needed to write.

What if I stayed like this forever, what would I do?

I felt a chill plunging into my back.

Then I realized, that stories, or probably emotions too, are not things you can search for or come up with. You have no choice but to patiently wait for it to come your way. You have no choice but to humbly and earnestly sit and wait for the story’s visit.

I got that, but the "proper 50-page story” still refused to come.

It was not long before one week passed. Then two weeks.

I was doing other work, while keeping my heart’s door open, waiting for the story to come to me.

At that time, I had an online meeting with the anime staff. I casually asked Director Igarashi, “Do you have any story you want to see?”

The Director gave it a little thought then told me, "I want to see the story of Dazai and Oda’s encounter”.

At that very moment, the story rushed in through my door, like a bang. I could hear that sound very clearly.

Two stories. Odasaku, and the two Dazais. A story where they met, and a story where they couldn’t meet. A story of gain and a story of loss. If I can portray the gain and loss side by side, the amplitude of the heart will be doubled and rise up in front of us.

That was a momentary event. Rather than pushing my way forward, I felt as if something was pulling my hand. Before I noticed, I have already finished the stories.

I came to realize.

It is not the writer who searches for the story. It is the story that chooses its writer, and at some point it will come our way. A professional writer is no more than someone with the ability to catch that call.

Also, this is the most important thing: there is no such thing as a “proper emotion”. Because after all, the feelings of other people belong to them only. That is why there is no guarantee that a novel can move others “properly”. However, you can move your own emotions. You know what kind of novel can and how it will move you. If you do, you can write just that. That’s the only way. That is the truly professional attitude. That’s what I thought.

Well then.

It is a little bit off topic, but as we are talking about “stories that come our way”, let’s talk about Odasaku’s first-person narrative.

Odasaku is a special character. For me, he is exclusively a novel character, and I have never portrayed him in the manga.

He first appeared as the narrator in “Dazai Osamu and The Dark Era”, then “BEAST” and now this “The Day I Picked up Dazai”. All are novels. That’s why for me, Odasaku doesn’t live inside the pictures, he lives inside the first-person narrative passages.

He is an eccentric guy. Even if you prepare the place and tell him to speak, he won’t speak to you that easily. His way of thinking is rather unique, that if I write his narrative after writing other characters’ first-person narrative, I would stumble for sure. Odasaku doesn’t speak. He just sits there in silence, while I can do nothing but sitting in front of my blank manuscript paper, trying to talk to him, like “What’s up?”, “Here, here”. However, he is a guy who won’t speak when it is not necessary. Sometimes it goes days or even weeks without him saying a word. Why did such a character come to me...?

During such time, there is only one thing I can do. That is, of course, to stay with him, sit patiently, and simply wait.

Finally he will start speaking. In his unique rhythm, word by word. His words have the power to cut through the world from a certain angle. That special cross-section is full of things I have never seen before and it never fails to surprise me.

And then when he finishes telling his story, he will swiftly disappear. To a dark and quiet place somewhere – probably, I can only imagine, somewhere like a bar. He will sit there calmly and keep his own time to himself. After that, it will be hard to call him again. It is a backbreaking task to me, but in the end, that is the type of guy Odasaku is, and if I am allowed to sound self-conscious, that is Odasaku's charm.

This story was written in such a way. There is a chance that he will come back again. And when he does, I will patiently listen to his voice again.

This story was completed and published thanks to the help of many people: in the Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST movie’s Production Committee, the anime staff, Young Ace’s Editorial Department, BEANS Bunko’s Editorial Department, and the many people who were involved in the publication of the book. Thank you very much. It is all thanks to you that the book was published without any problem this time as well.

Well then, see you in the next story.

Asagiri Kafka.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #the day i picked up dazai #traánlation

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hyomaslut · 10 months

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──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !! what is this? boyfriend material.

☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ ᴘᴛ. 𝟷

✿ ─ characters: isagi yoichi, chigiri hyoma, reo mikage, nagi seishiro ✿ ─ cw: fluff, gn!reader, no pronouns but there are a few 'fem coded' things referenced like make up or skirts, aged-up!characters, established relationships, pet names, kissing, groping, pda, use of foul language, suggestive themes, proofread so many times so if there’s a typo ill cry ✿ ─ notes: this is my first post ♪(´▽｀) i haven't written stuff like this in a pretty long time so bear with me ‹𝟹 this is some hybrid of headcanon and drabble idk

ISAGI YOICHI is a full-fledged bonafide simp...

he suffers from tragic a condition. when he’s not trying? flirting supreme panty dropper. however, when he tries to flirt with someone he likes? bro is fumbling. at first he seems like such an instant charmer. hes a classic gentleman, great listener, and super attractive. but the second he gets an inkling of a crush, he ruins it for himself. stuttering and getting his words mixed up, saying the most embarrassing jumbled combination of what he actually meant to.

follows you around to all your tasks because how else would he spend his free time except hanging with his baby. to sephora, to the grocery store, to the salon, the the ends of the earth if that's where you're heading that day. more than happy to hold onto your hand as you go about your business, rambling about global soccer statistics and looking at you like you hold the world. yoichi is a prideful purse holder too, his arms and pockets and car being full of your belongings makes him insanely happy for some reason he can’t put his finger on. always ready to press the lip gloss you’re patting yourself down for into the palm your hand, taking a kiss as payment.

he’s bad at planning dates, so don’t put him in charge unless you want to be late to a reservation at a restaurant 2 hours away with mediocre food. he’s good at paying for them though!! the dates he does get to plan are usually to the mall. what can i say, man likes to spoil you.

at the mall isagi can kind of trick you. because typically if he were to offer to buy you a couple hundred dollars worth of things, you would absolutely refuse. buttt if its just one thing from this store and one thing from another, and maybe its the fact that you dont feel the weight of all the items as your boyfriend carries it all, but it flies under your radar. and at some point you look at yoichi… and he has a lot of shopping bags. surely some of those were his right? the little pleased love sick smile on his face says otherwise.

its so worth it to isagi tho. he gets to spend time with you, make you happy, be a doting bf. but it also means that he can pick out clothes for you. as generous as he was, he could be a bit of a greedy gifter - never leaving the mall without a new skirt of his choosing. will personally pick out a pile of things he wants you to try on just for him.

once youre with isagi for a few months, he reveals his true colors. man is a serial PDA offender. he just thinks you’re so pretty, and it gives him such an ego boost to be the guy by your side. better hold his hand or its going in your back pocket. leans in under the guise of giving you a quick, generally acceptable peck on the lips… but all of a sudden he wants another before you even fully pull away from the first and its all downhill from there. sits on your side of the table at restaurants instead of across from you so he can rest his hand on your thigh and sneak in small squeezes when he thinks youre not paying attention. and be careful about walking in front of him, he’s not strong enough to resist the urge to smack your ass.

if the PDA thing wasnt a dead give away, isagi is just very affectionate in general, honestly has a hard time leaving you alone when you’re in the same room as him. he just gravitates towards you no matter what he was previously doing. very easily distracted, very easy to bribe. he’s the type of guy where when he goes to get out of bed in the morning to go to practice, and you cling to him and ask him for just 5 more minutes, theres nothing that could stop him from sinking right back into your arms. his attendance record has definitely suffered because he is unable to deny you a single thing you ask for, especially if that thing is him.

CHIGIRI HYOMA is taken and makes sure everyone knows it…

hyoma’s partner very quickly becomes his best friend if they weren’t before they started dating. it’s not even intentional, but he gets very quickly attached to you. sure, he has a decent amount of friends, but none of them know him like you do. he loves to hear you talk about your life, invested in your daily drama and indulging you with all of his. he likes to hear your input and insights on situations. he takes notes in his phone when he sees things he thinks you would like, or conversations he had that he wants to tell you about. forever surprised by how much he misses you when you’re apart, chigiri is used to not needing anyone the way he needs you. is so much grumpier at matches that have him go abroad without you, texting you often throughout the day, whenever he can get his hands on his phone.

because you’re now his best friend and partner, chigiri’s a bit tied to you at the hip, but he would never admit to being clingy. not that you mind, hanging out with him is fun and surprisingly intimate. he never fails to hold your hand wherever you go or throw an arm around your shoulder. on dates he’ll lean in close to your ear to whisper little observations and jokes about the people around, the two of you sharing witty comments and secretive snickers behind your hands. when hanging out with mutual friends, the way yours eyes meet his wordlessly, both holding the same micro expression, indistinguishable to other people, that says “we are so talking about that later”.

speaking of clinging to your side, hyoma can have a bit of a possessive streak at times. i feel like it’s something you don’t really expect of him until there’s a guy flirting with you in a store. the way your boyfriend is at your side before you can even answer, standing at his full height, squaring his shoulders with a sour look on his face, not at all shy about the way his arm snakes around your waist. “they’re not interested.” he states plainly, as if it were obvious, but if you payed close attention to him (which you always did), you would notice the distasteful curl of his lip or the venom seeping into his tone or the way his usually gentle fingers hold onto your side with a firm grip.

he doesn’t meet your eyes after, already sensing the knowing smirk on your lips. his ears turn red when you break the silence to tell him that green was a good color on him. but, your ever clever boyfriend is quick to reply, “that’s cute baby, but i’m not jealous. you haven’t seen me when i’m jealous.” the mischievous glimmer in his eye and the smug smile he wears reminds you to not test him.

king of matching outfits with you. not in the novelty shirts cheesy way, but he always asks for a fit check before he picks you up on dates. chigiri is outside your apartment within the hour, wearing a jacket that matches the color of your shoes and a sly grin. generally starts to shift his style to be a bit more cohesive with yours, he loves going out and looking like you belong together.

not to mention, matching outfits give him more excuses to take pictures with you. photos of you and him are plastered all over his instagram, your handle in his bio and everything. he’s no amateur either, always able to catch your best side, in perfect lighting. really makes you feel as pretty as he seems to think you are. hyoma is a bit of a show off too, so he gets a bit of an ego boost getting to let everyone know how cute you are, and that you’re all his.

hyoma greatly values the alone time he gets to spend with you. the best part of his week is sitting on the couch as you help him with his hair care routine. you running a mix of the comb and your fingers through his hair as the two of you catch up on the k-drama you started together. your touch and your attention and your warm presence enough to make the stress of a pro soccer career melt off his shoulders. makes you teach him how to do your nails and learns your skin care routine so that he can return the favor, although he’s much better at the latter.

MIKAGE REO is ungodly whipped and more than a little dramatic…

if we’re talking about social media boyfriends, reo is near insufferable. let’s be real, reo was already flexing on the gram before you got with him. constantly posting pictures of his car and expensive watches and exclusive clubs. he just becomes worse when you agree to go out with him. his story is full of aesthetically blurry shots of you, sometimes featuring him, anywhere and everywhere. in his car, on dates, cooking in his kitchen. he even found the audacity to post a picture of you in his bed, your bare back in full frame, the sheets pooled around your waist. “i’m so lucky” was the caption and the only context provided. unsurprisingly the lifespan of that post was quite short once you caught wind of it, with the assurance that he wouldn’t be getting so lucky in the near future.

i totally think reo is the type of guy that tries to act like a fuckboy but is secretly a hopeless romantic. in other words, reo is a huge sap™. has a picture of you in his wallet. you’re his screen saver and all his passwords feature your name. nagi is the last person left that will still listen to reo ramble on about you, all of his other friends having gotten tired of it.

we already know that reo is taking you to fancy dinners on the regular, but more unexpectedly i think he is a big fan of outdoorsy dates. previously mentioned hopeless romantic tendencies means reo loves a picnic way more than he lets on. his favorite is when the summer comes around and he gets to take you to the beach. if reo dies and goes to heaven and it's not you rubbing sunscreen into his warm back in a skimpy swimsuit he picked out for you himself, he's not interested. a close second favorite of his is late night drives with you. all the windows of his luxury sports car down, blasting a playlist the two of you made together, singing loud and ugly down the empty freeway. in these moments you make him feel weightless and he swears it’s addicting.

king of clingy. every time that you feel your phone vibrate, there's a good chance that it's your boyfriend. never with anything important either, asking where you are, how was your day, sending you pics of whatever he is doing, even resorting to imessage games when he runs out of things to talk about. he just always finds himself itching to open your contact. if mikage reo could eat up all of your attention, he would not hesitate to do so.

reo is usually the caretaker. when he obtained status of boyfriend, you automatically went on his list of special people in his life, only really consisting of you and nagi, and this granted you the exclusive privilege of walking all over him if you so please. truly a pushover and weak to your pouts. while we’re on the subject of ways to get him to fold, reo is surprisingly easy to flatter. your compliments are honey to his ears, no matter how many people have said the same to him before. his heart thumps loud in his chest whenever you do any act of service or labor of love for him. just wait for the day you buy this man some flowers. got his hand splayed over his red face, his palm not wide enough to cover his infatuated grin. "they're really for me, babe? god i knew i picked you for a reason.”

reo's feelings for you run extremely deep. scary deep. you make him feel stupid and irrational. he can't think straight, he's impulsive. you have to keep a close eye on him because give reo enough time alone and he'll convince himself that getting your name tattooed across his chest is an amazing idea, a grandiose display of his affection and devotion to you - sick as hell too. god forbid you go on a trip by yourself, there's honestly a decent chance you'll come home to a marriage proposal and explanations on how "no no, don't worry babe, i know its sooner than you expected but i've got it all planned out.” just be glad that up until this point he has resisted the strong urge to drop a fourth of his trust fund on a ring, a price he's more than willing to pay to make you all his.

NAGI SEISHIRO is greedy and will readily take a mile if given an inch…

nagi is… new to the whole boyfriend thing to say the least. not to say he’s bad at it or anything, but i imagine that in the beginning of your relationship, things are a bit, for a lack of better words, lukewarm. he struggles a bit with recognizing that the switch from friends to more than friends is more than just the title, letting you completely take the wheel. but his passiveness doesn’t last long. not when he can’t escape the way you are constantly on his mind. he thought it was overwhelming enough having a crush on you, but now that he’s falling for you it’s on another level. he thinks of you when he first opens his eyes, facing the obnoxious blue light of his phone to send you your daily goodmorning :x . he thinks of you at night, when he’s restlessly fighting to fall asleep before he ultimately caves and facetimes you so that he can drift off to your tired mumbles and even breaths. he thinks of you when practice drags on, the anticipation of seeing you after the only thing keeping him from giving into his exhaustion.

nagi can’t get you out of his head for the life of him, but to be fair he doesn’t put up much of a fight. seishiro is used to getting what he wants, so what does he do when his desire for you becomes a hassle? he makes it your problem. constantly calling you and asking you to pick him up from social functions because he misses you. insisting that he stays the night at your place or that you come to his because he needs his daily dose of you. and he doesn’t have the shame to be shy of telling you everything on his mind either. he unintentionally says very flustering things, unabashedly demanding your touch and your company, no matter who is listening. it’s your fault he’s like this after all, you might as well take responsibility and give him what he wants.

and what he wants is affection from you, as much as he can get. serishiro is mesmerized by your reactions. being in love with you is uncharted territory that he maps out with piqued curiosity and newfound greed. especially kissing. once nagi gets his first taste of kissing you for real, messy and needy and drawn out, he never wants to go back. not after seeing your red face, eyes lidded and lips parted so cutely he just has to steal one more. now his day dreams revolve around you, what flavor of chapstick you’re wearing, what perfume do you have on, are you thinking of him as much as he does you? thats one thing he never really finds the courage to ask, but that he secretly hopes is true.

he loves to find things you can work on together, even if you always end up being the one putting in more effort. nagi will insist on cooking dinner together, and maybe you get his help for a good 10 minutes before he’s slumped in a seat at the counter eating the ingredients. buys tons of lego sets for the two of you to put together and while you’re following the instructions, he’s stealing pieces you need so he can build a little car to push around the table while he watches you figure it out. he’ll even settle for a puzzle and a movie, but your out of luck if you expect him to do anything but the edges.

the lazy genius only really has the time and energy to have a couple of important people in his life, but once you make it into that inner circle, that shit is permanent as far as he’s concerned. it begins with him telling you that it only makes sense to leave some clothes at his apartment, you’re at his place half the week anyway. and then its him smuggling over your favorite pillows and stuffed animals to his bed instead of yours. then he’s asking you to go grocery shopping with him every week. the jokes he makes about the fact that, “you keep all your stuff here anyway. just move in with me already,” are far too frequent to be subtle. but when he hits you with the puppy eyes, which are annoyingly effective, how could you say no?

you’ve put yourself in his orbit after all and now the solar system that is nagi seishiro will use his gravity to pull you inevitably closer. it’s doomed.

is my bias obvious?? cuz i feel like it might be… lmk which one was your favorite!!

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kiss-theggoat · 10 months

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Would you write for Thomas Hewitt ?

A/N: I just recently watched this version and hubba hubba I’m in love with Mr Thomas Hewitt. I’ve only seen this one twice, so if some characters are out of character, I apologize! I hope you like it as much as I do bc this boy deserves better!

Bluebonnets

Thomas Hewitt x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: You and your friends stopped for gas in a rinky dink little town in Texas, but the Hewitt family thinks that you’d be perfect for their little Tommy.

TW: Violence and Gore, Death, Hoyt is a pervert, Cannibalism, Sort of Stockholm Syndrome, Ends with fluff

The sun beat down on your face as you laid your head back against the rough leather seat, deeply regretting the fact that you agreed to drive in a convertible through Texas in the middle of August. Your sweat broke through the barrier of sunblock, leaving your skin sticky and shiny, the humid wind doing absolutely nothing to cool you off.

“We’re almost outta gas!” Johnny yelled, his hand on Sue’s thigh. She rolled her eyes and scoffed at him. “I thought we gassed up in Austin!”

He shrugged. “We did. Getting bad gas mileage I guess!”

She groaned, throwing her head back in frustration. You were relieved to finally get out of the car and into some sort of building, hopefully with air conditioning. You sat in the back, squished against the side of the car by Tyler and Ginny making out, taking up almost the entire seat. You felt a little bit fifth-wheel-y, but you knew your friends would’ve given you so much shit if you refused to come.

Johnny pointed to a sign up ahead, faded and cracked from the relentless Texas sun. In light pink, what used to be red, the sign said, ‘GAS AND BARBECUE NEXT EXIT’. Johnny laughed, squeezing Sue’s thigh with a sweaty palm. “Barbecue, babe! Let’s go!”

Sue sighed. “Fine.” She turned to everyone in the back, and you saw that she was just as sweaty as you, tanned skin shining in the sunlight. “Everyone okay with stopping here.”

For some reason, this got on your nerves. You didn’t know if it was the fact that you’d been in the car for six hours or the fact that you were baking like a casserole in 100 degree weather. Or maybe it was the fact that everyone in the car was giving eachother fuck-me eyes, like a sick joke you weren’t apart if. And, on top of that, the last thing you wanted after being in 86 percent humidity was fucking barbecue. “Where the hell else are we going to stop? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

Sue gave you a look before you were interrupted by Ginny. “Here’s fine, babe!” She smiled at Sue, her lips red and swollen from being absolutely ravished by her scrawny boyfriend. You crossed your arms and laid your head back down, trying your best to meditate your way out of this road trip.

You guess it worked because before you knew it, you were pulling into the run-down gas station, car switching off with an alarming squeal. You hopped out of the car, not bothering to talk to any of your friends, and went inside. Your stomach turned. Instead of the blissful air conditioning you were yearning for, you were smacked in the face by the putrid smell of rotting meat. Flies buzzed around your face, and you swore it was hotter in here than it was outside.

Looking around, there was a convenience store area, a case to your left with meat inside, and a little old lady sitting behind the counter. You took a deep, stabilizing breath. You were pissed and over this trip, but you knew better than to take it out on some poor unsuspecting stranger. You put on a smile and walked towards her, pulling your shorts further down your thighs. The old lady looked up at you and then back down at her book, before doing a double take. She took her glasses off, then gave you a small smile.

“Hi sweetie. What can I do for you?”

She’s nice, you thought. You liked when old ladies called you cute names. You smiled brighter at her, feeling relieved that one person was making you feel actual joy on this trip. “Hi, ma’am. Is there a bathroom here.”

“Yes, hun, it’s outside, around the side of the station.” She said, handing you a key ring. You tried not to let your face scrunch in disgust, but you were pretty sure there was a real rabbit's foot on this thing. You grabbed the key from her, avoiding the furry foot, and told her, “Thank you so much. My friends are also going to use the restroom so I’ll have this back in a few minutes.” She nodded at you, going back to her book.

You pushed the door open, actually relieved to be outside. You welcomed the smell of dust that Texas had gotten you used to instead of the rancid steaks. As you walked towards the bathroom, Sue grabbed your arm, making you jump. “What the hell is up with you?” She asked, staring at you accusingly.

You sighed, feeling better after your pleasant exchange with the old woman. “I’m sorry for being snippy. I’m just tired and hot and…done being in the car.” You said quietly, shaking her off to go towards the dilapidated bathroom.

“You can have the front seat from now on, you can actually feel the AC a little bit sometimes.” She said, following you.

You put the key in the door and twisted it. “It’s okay. The sun goes down in like…an hour and a half? It should cool down.” The moment the door swung open, you were hit with that same raunchy smell. You put a hand over your nose and grimaced, “It smells like this inside too…” you sighed, slowly walking into the single stall bathroom.

You couldn’t have pissed faster. You quickly washed up and nearly sprinted from the bathroom back towards the car, holding your face the entire time. The cheap soap from your hands also smelled bad, but compared to the smell of the bathroom, it was like the world's most expensive perfume. “Uhm…does anyone else need to use the bathroom? I have to return the key.”

Everyone shook their heads, but Johnny spoke up. “We’ll go with you. We’ll get food and pay for the gas.”

You nodded and opened the door to the station for everyone, watching in amusement as all of their faces twisted with disgust just as yours did when you first smelled it. The old lady looked up again, and instead of her smile she wore a sneer as she watched Johnny walk up to her. “We need twenty dollars on pump one.” He said, not looking at her and pulling out his wallet.

“We don’t have gas.” She said quickly and coldly, holding her book up in front of him. “Haven’t for a couple weeks.”

Johnny scoffed in disbelief, tossing his hands down on the counter. “So you’re the only gas station for 100 miles and you don’t have any gas?”

She shrugged, not answering.

“Well, when are you gonna have gas?” Ginny asked, also putting her hands on the counter.

“Could be a week. Maybe more.”

Johnny looked down in the case, noticing the green meat and flies swarming. “So no gas and I’m guessing…” he tapped aggressively on the glass. “No barbecue?”

The old lady took her glasses off again, irritated. “We got food.” She pointed behind your group to shelves of food that looked like it was from the 1940’s.

Johnny laughed, head rolling back. “You’ve got to be kidding me, lady! You have to take that sign down if everything is a fucking lie!”

You stepped forward, putting an arm in front of Johnny’s torso and pushing him away from the counter slightly. “I’m sorry ma’am. We’ll find somewhere else to go, thank you for your help and letting us use the restroom.” You said, sliding the key back over the counter. You felt bad for her. Obviously this town wasn’t a money pit, and maybe she did have a popular place before, but it looks like everything’s gone out of business. Maybe she’s barely surviving, the last thing she needs is five twenty-something year olds harassing her for things she can’t control.

She gave you her attention, unlike your friends. She smiled at you, grabbing the key back from you. “Thank you, young lady. You’re very polite. Maybe you could teach your friends there some manners.” She said, pointing to Johnny and Ginny with her glasses. Johnny scoffed and started to yell something, but you quickly yanked on his shoulder to usher them out of the building. You nodded at the woman with a smile before leaving. You bumped into Johnny’s back hard, wondering why the hell he stopped in front of you like that.

You moved out from behind him to see a cop. “Great, the old hag called the cops!” Johnny groaned, only shutting up when Sue rubbed his bicep. You never liked Johnny.

“We ain’t get no call folks. Came here for some refreshments.” The cop said, pointing to his badge. “And I ain’t just any cop. Sheriff. Sheriff Hoyt.”

Johnny sighed, nodding. “Okay, Sheriff. Where’s the nearest gas station? This dump doesn’t have gas.”

“It ain’t nice to disrespect someone’s business, boy.” The sheriff scowled, spitting black tobacco onto the concrete. You could feel your heart rate rising, you knew that Johnny was going to get you in trouble somehow. You looked around, finally seeing the sheriff’s cruiser parked behind the convertible. As you peered inside, you noticed a man sitting in the passenger seat. You couldn’t see him too well, but he was large, blocking up pretty much the entire window.

“It’s hardly a business. Pretty sure there’s botflies inside, could kill someone.” Johnny started to walk away, but the Sheriff stepped in front of him to block his path. “What’s your fucking problem?”

The sheriff stared into Johnny’s eyes, scowling. You could sense the tension, and decided you’d be the peace keeper of the day. “Sir…sir, we’re sorry. We’re just almost out of gas and we’ve been traveling for a long time.” You said, stepping towards the Sheriff.

His eyes raked over you, making you feel sort of icky. You wished you were wearing a winter coat, despite the heat. He spit again, a gross squelch breaking the silence. “Finally someone with some manners.”

Johnny laughed, “What the fuck is up with old people and manners?! Jesus Christ, we just need gas!” He yelled, shoving the Sheriff’s shoulder. You gasped, grabbing Johnny’s arm but in the blink of an eye, a revolver was being pointed at Johnny’s face. Everyone froze, staring at the firearm.

“Now are you gonna show some respect, boy? I’m the Sheriff of this town and I’m not gonna tolerate a group of hoodlums messin’ things up.” He said, voice hushed, almost a whisper.

You nodded quickly. “Yes, sir. We’re leaving. Let’s go.” You moved towards the car, but the Sheriff stopped you.

“Y’all think you can just stroll into a town, cause trouble, and go?” He laughed, cocking the gun with a haunting click. “Tommy!” He yelled, turning his head towards the car. The door slowly opened and you watched as a mammoth of a man stepped out, dress shirt and apron giving him an even larger silhouette. He wore a mask with messy brown hair, broad shoulders slouched. Your heart skipped a beat. Wrong situation to think this, but the man was quite handsome. You’d always liked bigger men.

“Please sir…we don’t want any trouble. We’d just like to be on our way, we’ll leave and never come back.” You pleaded, hands out in front of you. Gravel crunched beneath the huge man’s feet as he walked towards your group. The sheriff turned to him. “Whadya think Tommy?” He asked with a cruel cackle.

The ringing of a bell made you turn back towards the station, and you saw the old lady standing there. She held her reading glasses, and pointed at you with them. Your heart dropped. What did this mean? You turned back to the sheriff, and he looked just as confused as you did. She scoffed at his confusion. She wanted to tell him something, but didn’t want you and your friends to hear it. She waddled over slowly, but Johnny had other ideas. He spun quickly, hitting the sheriff’s arm, but unfortunately, it didn’t cause him to drop the gun. Tyler started to run, Ginny tried to help Johnny, and Sue grabbed your arm. “Let’s go! We need to run!” She yelled.

Your ears rang at the close range of the gunshot, you fell to your knees, scraping them, and covered your ears with your hands. You heard a scream, immediately recognizing it as Sue. You turned around to see Johnny, laying on the dirt with blood pooling around him, a perfect bullet wound in the center of his forehead. You felt nauseous, but you couldn’t move. Looking up, you saw the smoking revolver gripped tight in the sheriff's hand, now focused on Sue. She was hunched over Johnny’a body, sobbing and screaming, the tears making trails of clean skin as they wiped away the thin layer of dust.

Somewhere to your right, another scream. Ginny. You saw the large man, who the Sheriff called Tommy, holding her up in the air on his shoulder. She banged against his chest with knees and hit his back with her fists, thrashing and screaming. On his other arm, he held the limp body of Tyler, blood dripping from his head and beading in the dust, tucked beneath his armpit. This man carried two grown adults effortlessly, his strength scared the hell out of you. You didn’t even see if he had a weapon, but he managed to take them both down.

You sat in terror. You wanted to run, but with a revolver focused on your head, what were your options. The old lady appeared on your left, hand touching the Sheriff’s shoulder. She leaned in to whisper, but you heard her.

“Don’t touch her. Keep her for Tommy.”

Keep her for Tommy? What the fuck did that mean? You stared up at them in fear and watched as he groaned, pointing the gun at Sue instead. She didn’t even look phased, too focused on her boyfriend’s dead body. Tommy loaded the other two into the back of the car, and then made his way back towards you. Tears welled in your eyes as he approached, his shadow looming over you and finally blocking you from the sun. As he got closer, you saw the detail in his face and clothes. He had pretty eyes and his hair looked soft, but his bloody clothes and tight leather mask contrasted the softness of the rest of him.

He grabbed your arm in a surprisingly soft grip, the only thing disconcerting about his touch was the slickness from the blood that he left on your skin. He pulled you towards the car, and it was obvious he wanted you to follow. The old woman put a hand on his shoulder and affectionately patted his chest, he leaned down to her level. She gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and told him, “She’s perfect for you, Tommy.”

You finally realized what was going on. They were setting you up with him, like you and your friends were on some sort of sick dating game. You stumbled as you followed him to the cop car, his head was down and his shoulders were slumped as he opened the front passenger side and moved aside. You looked up at him. He wanted you to get in, but he didn’t put you in the back like you thought he would, and for that, you were grateful. The last thing you wanted to do was sit beside the bleeding, passed out bodies of two of your friends.

You took a seat in the scalding car, body swaying with the force that he shut the door. He stood in front of the door as if keeping watch, like a prison guard. You stared in horror as the sheriff finally had enough with Sue, giving her the same fate as Johnny. She laid on his chest, her blood mixing with his as the sheriff walked away from their bodies. You were grateful you were far away from them, both because you didn’t want to see your best friend die, and your ears were still ringing from the first gunshot.

The sheriff entered the car, flashing you a creepy smirk before you felt Tommy enter the backseat. You stared out the window, definitely in shock and confused. Just twenty minutes ago the worst of your problems was having to pee on a road trip and now you just watched all of your friends either die or be brutally attacked by someone who is supposed to protect the community. You had a feeling he wasn’t a real sheriff, given the nature of the recent events.

You laid your head against the door. You hadn’t noticed how tired you were, but you guessed experiencing something like that would be hard on your body. Feeling fairly confident that they wouldn’t kill you, you drifted off to sleep as he drove who knows where.

You only woke up to the sound of a door slamming and you realized that it was dark outside. You had no idea where you were or how long you’d been driving, but you felt disgusting. Cheeks stiff with tears, nose running, mouth dry and eyes burning. Your door opened and you were being yanked out by the sheriff, who was much rougher with you than Tommy was. You winced at how tight he was holding you as he dragged you towards a fairly large country style home.

The door was kicked open and you saw the same old woman from the station holding a pot of food. “Finally, Charlie. Tommy had to help cook.” She scoffed, setting the pot down at the large dining room table, where an old man already sat.

“Dammit, Luda Mae, I told you! It’s Sheriff Hoyt! You hear me!” He yelled, hitting the wall with his free hand, making you jump. You were putting the pieces together. There was Hoyt, or Charlie apparently, Tommy, Luda Mae, and then this old man. They lived together, probably related.

You looked around, saw the table full of food, dusty knickknacks, bones hanging from the ceiling. It all felt like a sick mix of home and hell. The rugs and the quilts on the plush couches looked knit, and the lamps give the room a comforting glow. If you weren’t here under these circumstances, you might find this house cozy.

Hoyt forced you to the table, plopping you down across from the old man already seated. He tied your wrists to the chair with leather straps that were bolted in. Obviously, this wasn’t their first time offense. Your fingertips began to cool with how tight the leather was cinched, and you whimpered at the pain. Luda Mae sat next to the old man, smiling at you.

“Oh dear. The moment I saw you, I knew that my Thomas would like you. We’re so happy to have you here.” She sounded genuinely happy, and you couldn’t help feeling sorry for this family. You heard Hoyt bang in something and yell Tommy’s name, then a loud sliding sound. Thomas walked into the dining room and took a seat next to you, across from Luda Mae. Hoyt took the head of the table, standing over the pot with a giant ladle.

“Well thanks to this pretty lady…” he said, winking at you, warning a scoff from Luda Mae, “and all of her friends… we’ll have dinner for the next couple a’ weeks!” He grabbed Thomas’ bowl and dropped in a ladle full, then the same with Luda Mae’s. As he served you, you noticed large chunks of game-y looking meat inside of your stew. Surely he didn’t mean….

You stared in horror at your food, lips sealed shut in fear that you may vomit. Your mouth watered with the insatiable urge to throw up everywhere, and you felt a cold sweat break out on your forehead. You watched as everyone dug in, eating with a fervor that said they’d been starving for a month. They moaned in joy at the flavor of the food, occasionally complimenting Thomas or Luda Mae for the cooking. Only you and Thomas weren’t eating. He because he didn’t want to remove his mask in front of you, and you because you weren’t really on board with cannibalism.

“Don’t be ungrateful, boy. Eat your damn dinner!” Hoyt yelled, a cooked carrot flying from his mouth onto the table as he slammed his hand down. Thomas jumped and put his hands near his face, like he was expecting to be hit. Your heart ached for him. It was obvious he didn’t want to do this. He wasn’t evil like the rest of them, he was forced to do this. You watched him slowly unbuckle the leather strap of his mask and slide it off, revealing a scarred face, exposed nose cartilage and teeth, mangled jaw bones. You felt terrible watching him keep his face down, hair covering it. He was ashamed.

He picked up a spoon, but still didn’t eat. He just stirred the stew. Obviously you wouldn’t know this, but he didn’t want to eat in front of you, because eating was a little difficult for him. He was more prone to spilling food on himself or getting messy and spilling down his chin. Not exactly the way to impress your new date.

You swore that Hoyt was turning red with rage. “Dammit boy! Your momma made this dinner and you’re just gonna stare at it?!” He growled, slapping Thomas upside the head. Anger filled your chest as you watched Thomas cover his head, eyes clenched shut. What made you even angrier is that Luda Mae and the old man just sat there, eating like nothing was wrong.

“Don’t hit him.” You said. Your throat was hoarse, you haven't talked in a while.

“Fuck you say to me, girl?”

You looked Hoyt in the eyes. “I said…don’t hit him.”

He sneered and leaned over the table, knocking the spoon from his empty bowl. “Oh I see…Tommy needs his little girlfriend to defend him, huh? Listen here, you little bitch-“

“Hoyt, be kind to our guest.” Luda Mae said, eating the last of her potato. She looked over at you, and then at Thomas. She was happy that you stood up for him.

Hoyt laughed at her, shaking his head. “Pathetic.” He grumbled, throwing his bowl to the center of the table. “Neither of ya wanna eat dinner? Fine!” He walked over to Thomas and grabbed his hair, yanking his head back, and with the other hand, he grabbed his mask. He slammed his mask hard against Thomas’s face, making him wince. “Ya can just go back to your little fuckin’ basement then.”

He walked over to you, roughly unstrapping your wrists. Blood flowed back into the white spots, and you knew it’d bruise. “And take your bitch with ya.” He growled, shoving you over towards Thomas. Thomas had just finished securing his mask, and he gently grabbed your sore wrist. You followed him while looking behind your back, staring spitefully at Hoyt, who shamelessly watched your ass as you walked away.

Thomas slid a huge wooden door out of the way and led you down a staircase. The basement smelled rancid, like stale metal and rotting meat. As you walked in, you knew why. Weapons hung from the ceiling, a workbench in the center of the room. Blood coated the entire floor, and some dropped steadily from the table, giving you the sound like a very messed up metronome. A bed in the corner called your name despite the stained mattress. It had no pillows, no sheets, no blankets. You looked at Thomas.

“You…sleep here?” You asked meekly and watched as he gave you a very tiny nod, looking at the bed. He led you over to it, and held your shoulders, sitting you down. He let you sit there for a second and then he walked away, going to sit in a chair on the other side of the room next to his work table. He wanted you to sleep in his bed, but he wasn’t going to?

Your chest swelled with the kindness of this poor man. A pure soul forced into the mud by his corrupt family. You stood up and took a step towards him. “I don’t want to take your bed. It’s yours.”

He shook his head and walked back to you, grabbing your shoulders again to sit you down. You gave in because the feeling of this stained, thin mattress was like heaven, despite the fact that you could feel the springs digging into your back as you laid down. You stared at him for a moment as he began to rummage through items on his shelf. Your eyes began to close, eyelids feeling like they had ten pound weights attached.

He turned around, holding something small and dainty in his large and veiny hands. He sat at your feet, a gentle hand placed on your ankle. You glanced down at him as he held out a dried Bluebonnet to you. You smiled softly and took it from him, feeling its soft stem and looking at its pretty periwinkle petals. “Thank you…” you mumbled sleepily.

You thought, just before you fell asleep, that there were two things in this basement that didn’t belong. Everything in this house was drenched in blood and fear and grime, this basement was disgusting and horrifying. But, in all of the terror, you had this beautiful Bluebell, a reminder of the open, sweet smelling fields of Texas, and even more pure, you had Thomas.

#slasher x reader #slashers #horror movies #horror fanfiction #slasher x y/n #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x you #leatherface #texas chainsaw massacre

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towriteloveontheirarms · 2 months

Text

My little winter rose (Aemond Targaryen x Little red riding hood!Reader)

synopsis: On your way to visit your grandmother, you meet a handsome stranger that points you towards some lovely flowers. Little do you know what else that aquaintance holds in store for you...

warnings: slight dubcon, p in v sex, mention of severed body parts, afab reader

word count: 2.3k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Thank you to the wonderful @slytherincursebreaker for requesting this piece. I hope you like it as much as I loved writing it!<3

Dividers by @valeskafics

For as long as you were old enough to roam around Winterfell and the surrounding woods, you heard the same thing every time. "Beware of the one-eyed beast in the woods" or some form of that sentence. You knew it by heart, saying it along every time it was spoken. Yet you had never seen a beast, no matter how often you wandered through the trees you called your second home. However, it also led to you becoming less watchful every time, thus not noticing how the so proclaimed one eyed beast very much saw you. Grew taller as you did with age until he towered over you easily, his mind darkening with thoughts as yours brightened with entirely different ideas. Going unnoticed day after day after day. Another institution set in place that you remember ever since you could think was a group of hunters going out every night. Their torches burning like the fear in their hearts, sharp swords, spears and weapons of any kind held close to their bodies that would always return marred. Sometimes you would hear rumours that people that died at an earlier date were taken by the beast while hunting for it alone.

You understood all of it, though that didn't mean you liked it. The sight of the hunters was one you hated. It was a surprise that with their viciousness the "beast didn't las out more or come closer to the village. Not even all the understanding of the human mind in the world could have saved you from hating the head of the hunters with a passion that burned even brighter than any fire ever could. Howland Reed and his relentless pursuit of trying to win over your affection by bragging about hunts long over and how well equipped he was to hunt the one-eyed.

"Red! Where are you off to?" He yells from a distance to stop you, as he trots over to you. Cursing him out in your mind in return, you oblige and wait for him to catch up with you, putting a smile on your face as you did so. Even the nickname everyone called you due to the red cloak you wore at every given time, sounded so gross from his lips you wanted to puke. "Oh, I am merely off for a visit to my grandmother." You chirp in the politest tone you could muster.

“Well, how lucky I must be to catch you then? You see, I just had some modifications done to keep you safe better.” He presents you with one of his hands and you see exactly what modifications he talked about. His nails had been filed into sharp points and seemingly coated with silver to harden them, just like claws. The pride in his face makes it hard for the polit mask to stay on yours.

“Say, Howland.” You take a deep breath in to keep it together as you speak. “I have been wondering something lately. Mayhaps you will be able to answer the question.”

“Ask me anything you wish and rest assured that the smartest man around will surely give you an answer.” He makes it so hard not to throw up right then and there.

“You are too kind. Now my question is, if you are as smart and strong and skilled in hunting as you proclaim… How come that one-eyed beast has not been slain yet?” You don´t stay to hear his answer, instead you hide a giggle behind your hand and go off on your merry way.

With the light of the early afternoon sun in the sky you have little concerns or cares about the safety of the forest. Humming the sweet tune of a song that you had often sung with your grandmother when you were younger, you skip along the way.

The deeper you get into the wood, the colder it gets and so, while you wrap yourself tighter into the red cloak, you almost run into what you at first think is a tree. As it turns out it is another human, a man and a tall one at that. His silver hair reaches down to the middle of his back, covering one of his eyes and the other you are sure shone in a pretty lavender hue once. If it did it had since dulled to a darker tone. The creases in the pale skin on his face speak volumes on how hard his life must have been. Yet when he looks down to meet your eyes, there is a charming smile set in place.

“My apologies, ser. I should have watched my steps.” You apologize before he even opens his mouth, looking up at him with the most innocent eyes he had ever seen.

“Oh no, by all means, I am the one that has to apologise. You are not the only one that should have watched where they were going.” The beautiful stranger replies in a velvety smooth voice.

"Please, I insist. If I would have stopped for a moment, I would not have run into you." You reiterate. "Alright." The stranger lifts his hands in mock surrender. "May I ask where a young maiden like you is headed? All alone in these big woods." "Well, for one I am not alone. Clearly." You go to answer with a waggish smile. His grin widens in response and his voice deepens for a moment as he speaks. "I would not be so sure that is such a good thing." His words hold a sense of warning that you swiftly ignore to tell him where you were going. "I am on my way to see my dear grandmother. She lives not far from here."

"My, what a sweet girl you are. Your grandmother can count herself lucky to have you." You hadn't even noticed so far, but when he continued speaking his voice registers almost right beside your ear. "If you want to bring her some flowers, the winter roses are blooming beautifully not too far from here in that direction."

You follow his finger with your eyes, to see that it isn't that much of a detour.

"I will be going right away. Thank you, kind stranger." You turn your head back to him.

"Oh no, I have to thank you." He murmurs. “And you may call me Aemond.”

“Aemond…” you test the way the blonds name rolls off your tongue and then let your smile widen as you give him your name.

You happily skip along the way, giving him no chance for further conversations as you only turn once more to wave him farewell.

While you busy yourself with making the most beautiful bouquet of winter roses and greenery, Aemond goes off with a new plan in mind to finally get you.

The task takes you longer than you would have thought and so the sun stands high in the sky when you continue the way to your grandmother's house. It begins to grow dark when you arrive at the small house in the middle of the woods, so it is no wonder you find your grandmother asleep in her bed.

Gently you shake her awake by the arm. “Grandmother, are you well? I came to visit you." "My sweet girl, is it really you?" The old woman's voice sounds different than normal, though you can't quite put your fingers on the exact way it does. "It is. I brought you some flowers and a cake I baked." You set down the flowers in a vase on the bed side table and sit on the edge of the mattress beside her. "Oh, you are so good to me. Come, lay down. You came all this way and I could not possibly send you home in the darkness." Without any questions you obey her, pulling off the cape and dress until you are only left in your small clothes. Through the thin fabric the cold air makes your nipples harden and so you hurry to climb underneath the blanket.

Once in bed, you notice the long scar over the left side of her face, with the eye seemingly missing entirely. “Grandmother, what happened to your eye?” The words come out dripping with uncertainty.

“Bad men took it, but you need not worry about it. They are not able to hurt anyone anymore now.” The answer does little to quell the questions on your mind.

"My, what big hands you have, Grandmother?" You continue questioning.

"All the better to hug you." Comes the quick explanation.

"And what sharp teeth you have..." Your skin begins to prickle and the air becomes harder to breathe. Something in the way your grandmother pauses before answering, makes the hair on your neck stand up. Too late to react, as you get pinned to the mattress with surprising strength.

"All the better to eat you!" With a swoosh the blanket and who you thought was your grandmother's clothes get ripped away, to reveal Aemond sitting on top of you.

He grabs your shift and easily rips the fabric off your body, leaving you gasping, wide eyed and unable to cover yourself as he still pins your wrists above your head with one if his large, strong hands.

The cold air, that streams in through the cracks in the window frame, has your nipples harden even further, until they stand painfully against the heat of your admirers’ chest. Instinctively you lean further into him to catch more of his warmth. Aemonds hard cock presses between your folds, twitching against your entrance, to collect some of the juices that flowed between your thighs.

“Will you be a good girl if I let you go now?” He growls lowly into your ear, eliciting a quiet but eager nod from you.

Slowly the pressure around your wrists vanishes to come down to hold you by the hips. Aemond leans down to capture your lips with his. The slow, but nonetheless passionate nipping at each other’s mouths gives the perfect way for him to express every last bit of longing and yearning that had coursed through the blond’s body ever since he first laid his eye on you. The kiss deflects your attention from the way Aemond rubs his erection against your dripping centre until he has buried himself entirely in it. His tip nearly kisses your cervix and the way your cunt adjusts to his form makes your entire nervous system burst into flames. The flames lick only higher as Aemond absolutely ravages you, rutting into you with inhumane pace and without abandon. It seems he fucks deeper into your tight channel with every thrust, that is accompanied by breathily whispered praise of how long he had waited for this moment and how well you took him. Every once in a while, when a pained whimper leaves your lungs, he kisses your forehead, rubs a few circles with his thumbs into your hipbone and shushes you in the most loving tone anyone had ever used on you beside your family. Yet Aemond doesn´t slow down. Not until you are first to reach your peak and he had made sure to shoot his seed so deep into your core it was sure to take.

Aemond slides out of your sensitive cunt and sits back to catch his breath.

“Are you alright?” he inquires short of breath.

“I am. Perhaps I will be a bit sore for the next few days.” You jested back with a raw voice.

“Ah, my apologies. I simply found myself unable to hold back any longer. I have been watching you for so long, my little winter rose. Imagining how it would be to touch you, to claim you, to finally take you as my wife in the face of the seven…” The one-eyed man sheepishly rubs his neck as he confesses to his desires.

Desires that make your face feel like it is on fire once more and your brain is entirely empty. “Is that the truth?”

“I could never lie to you about the graveness of my affections towards you.” Gently, Aemond takes one of your hands into his and presses a kiss to the palm of it.

“Oh, Aemond…” You melt at the show of affection. “I wished nothing more than to be able to be with you for the rest of our days, but I fear it is not possible. For my parents have already promised me to another.”

“Worry not. I have already taken care of that.” The blond stands up to offer his solution to the issue. A severed hand lands between your legs on the bed.

You gasp and raise your eyebrows, but before any question can claw its way out of your lungs, the sharpened silver nails catch your attention. It was Howlands hand that lay there presented to you as if it was a trophy. However, it does not disturb you. On the contrary, it makes you feel strangely appreciated, that someone would go so far as to secure you being with them.

“How dare that son of a whore go after my wife.” Aemond growls and his forehead lays into deep creases.

Careful not to kick around the severed body part, you stand up as well now, stalking over to Aemond on mildly trembling legs. When you reach him one hand goes to his shoulder for stability and the other rises to his face to run the thumb over the space between his eyebrows until it is even again.

“There is no reason to get angry about him anymore. My heart never belonged to him, but it will forever belong to you.” The two of you share one more kiss. This one much more slow, but just as emotional, to seal your future together.

#aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #hotd x reader #hotd x you #fairytale au #little red riding hood au

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stardragongalaxy · 2 months

Text

Hearts Aligned

☆Summary: Its early in the relationship, but a calling from Hongjoong to his home office has some surprises in store.

☆Characters/pairing: Hongjoong x gn reader

☆Genre: Fluff, smut

☆Au/Trope info: Established relationship

☆Word Count: 750

☆Warnings: dom Hongjoong, let your imagination run wild, mentions of punishment and biting, praise kink, I think that's it, but let me know if I missed anything.

☆Rating: 18+ MDNI

☆A/N: Hello!! This took way longer than I thought because of life, but its here in the secret admirer event to @yourfatherlucifer I hope I did well for you even if it's a bit shorter than expected 🙈

Story under cut!

It had been a quite a while since you last saw your closest friend turned lover as he was always in the studio. You had teased him for being a bear in a cave for how much he stayed there, but you understood why because of his work and school schedule. If he wasn't in the studio he was always in practice in college sports to keep his physique in shape. Between all that he made time for you, his shorter significant other that he adored.

He wanted to make sure you were loved especially wanting you to spend the night on his weekend off. You brought your duffle bag for the long four day weekend to his apartment, taking your shoes off at the door then to his living room. His voice in a distant room called your name. You followed his voice after setting your bag beside the couch on the ground to a type of work space.

“Babe, come in here. I have something to let you hear” Hongjoong called when you turned the corner to enter the room making you in awe since it's the first time to his place. It was early in the relationship though.

“On my way to you” You said with a tease to your voice taking a seat beside him. You caught him with a tanktop tonight, but kept yourself in check. He handed you the headphones and you put them in when he made sure you were ready, he began the music. You listened intently feeling the beats. He watched with relief seeing you enjoy it, the music sounded so right to you. You gave him a bit of critique in one point and let him listen that made it pitch better.

He smiled letting you listen as these were to be graded for his exams soon.

“Would you like to come to the concert?” Hongjoong asked putting down the headphones having his full attention on you.

“When will it be?”

“Next Saturday” he said. You checked the work schedule and your eyes lit up seeing that day was one you had off, nodding and accepting his invitation. You saw his genuine smile and he leaned in kissing your lips tenderly. He cupped your cheek and leaned you back against the black couch taking his time with you, mapping out your body with his hands. The nip to the lower lip was just the start of a night you wouldn't forget.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He held your body against his chest as he already had you marked as his through his love bites on your entire body. You did act like a brat at one point that caused his marks as a form of punishment. He growled nipping your ear playfully as he thrusted into you faster and harder then his previous two times that he made you come undone. He made sure you felt everything from him while his body glistened with sweat as well as your own.

“You are doing so well being my pretty thing” he whispered in love “Falling to my temptation” he whispered again with a dark chuckle picking up his pace to be rougher, being much closer to his ecstacy with you, gripping your hips as he moaned deeply. His eyes rolled back as he came inside your, with a strangled moan thrusting to the hilt inside you releasing feeling you around him. It made him press his fingers into your tender flesh biting into your neck unexpectedly.

Hongjoong pulled a moan from your throat, being a love bite instead of being rough as he held you against him pushing you both through your highs to eventually calm down, praising you with love rubbing your sides making sure your happiness was over everything having his new music playing as you both made love. He let you take a break from the first two rounds, smirking at how beautiful you looked marked up then leaned down, pecking your lips.

“You still taste as sweet as the first time and I'll not get tired of it” He whispered against your lips, looking over you when he rose, pushing the hair out of your face.

“I'm not done yet though, love” he said with a gruffer voice and darkened eyes. He had plans to go all night knowing neither of you had work and all the time. He wanted to make sure you were going to get love in more than one way tonight, and somehow, that's all you wanted.

#cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #wonderlandnet #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong smut #18+ content

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

The Lost 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of loss, grieving, death, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: nomad!Steve Rogers

Summary: You move into a shared flat and encounter a mysterious man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

When your shift ends, you leave the shop, heading down the same way you came. You stop at the corner of Mason and think better of going that route. You take that man’s advice and go along Doxtator instead. It’s quieter, there aren’t as many businesses so not as many people loitering and tossing cigarette butts.

You come up to the shared house and enter through the side door as usual. You wouldn’t call it routine yet, you haven’t been there long enough, but a ripple of deja vu comes over you. You keep your head down as you enter the kitchen. As you do, there’s another person in there.

You don’t know if you should say hello. You haven’t seen this man before. He must be one of the others. He pulls a box of rice crackers out of the cupboard and ignores your presence. You follow his lead and don’t say a word as you set your bag on the counter and pull out the drawer. You write your name on the few items you got from the store before you left; a box of cereal, a carton of milk, and some packets of ramen.

You put it all away as the other resident traipses off down the hallway, shuffling footsteps reverberating off the shabby walls. You shut the fridge as you hear the outside door open and shut. As you turn, the other man enters; the big one with the shaggy hair. S as you think of him.

He nods at you as you fold up the paper bag and shove it in the bin. He goes to the cupboard and opens the door. He sighs and takes out the same box of crackers as the last man. He shakes it and tuts. You see then the S marked on the side.

You leave, not wanting to get involved. You feel bad that someone else took his food but you also don’t need the drama. You hate conflict. At least now, you know to watch your things. Maybe later you’ll sneak out and retrieve your ramen so you can preserve a few meals.

You’re not very hungry. Your appetite is sparse these days. Maybe it’s this place. You can’t quite settle in, maybe because you hope it’s only temporary. Yet, you can’t say if that’s because you’re holding onto hope that by some miracle you could go back to your former life or that you might even forge a new one.

You lock the door and turn on the standing lamp. You fold your coat over the metal frame of the bed and sit to untie your shoes and peel off your socks. You change into a loose pair of sweatpants and a plain tea with a Pepsi logo on it. Not your clothes, another set of charity tatters.

You lay down and stare at the wall. You used to have a television in your room. You’d watch the old sitcoms they replayed on the public access channel. Or you’d listen to music and knit something. You had at least a dozen scarves more than you needed. You might be able to afford some needles and yarn after your first pay.

The cone of light casts a low haze through the tight space. Your eyes slowly close as thoughts of shutting off the lamp fade into your subconscious. You’re asleep before you can feel yourself drift off.

🚪

You wake to a strange sound. Your eyes flick open to the yellow lamplight as you lay stiffly on your back. You groan as your cramped muscles tug. You stretch and the bed frame creaks with your movement.

The scratching continues. You’re not surprised. You would expect mice in a place like this. There were some at the shelter too. They mostly left you alone, just skittered by as they searched out crumbs.

It gets louder as you sit up, tilting your head as you try to loosen the knot between your shoulders. You stand slowly, daunted by the pang across your hips. The mattress is thin and you can feel the frame on the other side.

“I know you’re awake, sweetie,” the voice startles you as it slips beneath the door. You stop your arm midreach as you go to click off the lamp. You peek over and see the shadow shift under the door. “Sweetie? I can see your light’s still on, why don’t you open the door?”

You don’t know the voice. It’s pitchy and uneven. The sickening tune behind it makes your stomach wrench. You stay far from the door as the handle jiggles, the deadbolt keeping it from opening.

“Sweetie. I just wanna talk. You don’t have to open the door. Just talk to me…”

You hug yourself and gulp. There were men in the shelter who tried to talk to you, the ones who got too close, who would stand over you while you slept. You were lucky they went away when they were caught.

There’s another shift and the floorboards groan. You hear an odd scuff and see something slide beneath the door slowly. Little by little. It’s a hand mirror, just thin enough to fit. Oh my god.

“Sweetie, I wanna know your na–”

The click of a mechanism and the grind of hinges interrupt your unwanted visitor. The mirror stills and the floor creaks again. You chew your lip as you listen with bated breath.

“Oh, hi,” the same voice greets someone.

“Go,” the deep voice orders gruffly.

“You can’t make me–”

“What are you doing out here?” The other man asks. You recognise S’s timbre.

“N-nothing. I live here too. I can be in the halls,” the strange man responds.

“I’m trying to sleep.”

“I wasn’t making noise.”

There’s a pause. Footsteps follow, getting closer, and you hear the squeaky voice utter a ‘no’ as the mirror wiggles slightly then is kicked further inside, scuttling over the floor.

“What the hell?” S growls, “you leave her alone.”

“I wasn’t bothering her–”

“I know what you were doing. I know who you are. What you are. So go before I crush you like the worm you are,” S’s words make even you shrink in fear.

“Ha, you think you deserve her. Because you look like you do,” the other man accuses, “you don’t scare me.”

“I don’t care if I scare you, I’ll break you in half if I see you at her door again,” S sneers and there’s a thump on the door, followed by an ‘oomph’. “Got it?”

“Got… it,” the breathy hiss chokes out, “let me go.”

A sudden scramble of footsteps, as if thrown off balance, clatter across the floor. They continue, quicker and quicker until you can’t hear them. You hear a sniff, then a sigh. A shadow appears at the bottom of the door.

“Hope you’re okay in there,” S says, “I’ll keep an ear out for that creep.” He pauses as if waiting for an answer but you can’t find one past the hammer of your heartbeat, “have a good night.”

The floor groans with his weight as he retreats and his door gently clasps. You can’t move. You lean into the wall and let your legs fold as you slide down onto your bottom. You’ll leave the light on for tonight. You don’t think you can face the dark.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #nomad!steve #drabble #series #the lost #avengers #captain america #mcu #marvel

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badgerbl00d · 1 year

Text

one piece boys with a jealous gf

☆ characters: zoro, law, sanji

☆ up next: cuddling with one piece boys ft. shanks, rayleigh, benn and roger

☆ a/n: for the anon request about being jealous of the boys... i deviated a little from the request but this will definitely have a part 2!

zoro

“Three hundred million, hm?” she said batting her lashes at him, “With muscles like that I guess it’s not really a surprise!”

Zoro absent-mindedly nodded, much more focused on the katana in front of him.

“What’s this one?”

“That’s a newer model, popularized in the East Blue. Fishermen designed it.”

“It’s lousy.”

She frowned, pouting her lips out, “That’s too bad, it looks nice when you use it.”

He gave a hmph in response, still mainly focused on the array of swords in the store.

“Why don’t I show you a Wazamono we have in the back?”

Zoro paused for a moment, thinking about the offer.

“Alright,” he shrugged, and like a dumb puppy, started following her to the back.

You should have been shopping with Nami, but the two of you were rather unsatisfied with the stores you had to choose from and ended up going to get some snacks instead.

And thanks to this unexpectedly short shopping spree, you had been outside the weapons shop watching most of this exchange.

Your cheeks turned a violent shade of red and Nami insisted that he was probably totally oblivious to the flirting. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

She sighed, “I guess not… Why don’t you go after him?”

“That’s embarrassing, and you’re probably right anyway.”

You sat with your shoulders crossed and closed your eyes, letting out a long exhale as you tried to think of something else.

“Oh, look! They’re coming back out.”

You decided you might as well go in now before your idiot of a boyfriend dug himself any deeper.

You were seething as you made your way toward the shop, the woman very obviously lowering her shirt collar in front of him.

“Zoro!” you walked into the shop, not even glancing towards the saleswoman.

“Hi, Y/n,” he muttered, using different grips to try out the swords, recognizing you immediately, even if just by your voice.

“Anything good?” you asked, slightly irritated when he didn’t even turn to look at you and called you by your name instead of his usual ‘baby’.

“No,” he replied, still toying with the weapon.

You indulged in a small smirk as you watched the expression on the girl’s face turn into one of irritation. She rolled her eyes.

“Are you sure you didn’t want to take another look in the back?” she asked, gently putting her hand on Zoro’s- which clearly irritated him,

“You seemed to like what I had to offer.”

She put on an infuriatingly suggestive tone for the second part of her sentence.

Zoro held the sword he’d been looking at up, any innuendo flying entirely over his head.

“That’s true… Yeah, I guess I’ll take another look-”

You slapped the back of his head and grabbed the sword out of his hands, throwing them onto the counter.

“What the hell-”

“We’re going back to the ship. Now.”

You turned abruptly and stormed out of the shop, not bothering to pick up the weapons you’d ‘accidentally’ knocked over on your way out.

Zoro offered the woman an apologetic look and ran after you.

Nami was waiting for you both outside, and when he turned to her in hopes of being given some kind of indication of what just happened, she simply said, “You should probably think twice before you flirt with a woman for half an hour in front of your girlfriend.”

Zoro’s cheeks changed colors as he started to realize what everything had probably looked like from an outside perspective.

Oh, fuck.

Zoro decided that being another ฿100,000 in debt to Nami would be worth making it up to you, and after losing his breath trying to explain the situation to you he took you shopping for the rest of the night.

The next few days you spent docked on the island, Zoro refused to move away from your side.

And any looks or stares he got from women- young or old, pretty or not- were returned with only the most threatening of glances.

law

“You can do something right Traffy?” Luffy’s concern for his crewmate made your chest ache, and you desperately hoped that it wasn’t too late for something to be done.

Unexpected cannon fire from a nearby Marine battleship caught you all off-guard and resulted in Nami passing out from a collision with the walls of the ship.

Law nodded, gently picking her up.

You felt a slightly nauseating feeling forming in your stomach but quickly pushed it away because now was definitely not the time to be feeling jealous.

You waited with the rest of the Strawhats as he worked on stabilizing her in the doctor’s office.

Chopper was currently passed out as well from having overexerted himself and falling overboard.

Usopp had taken care of it and he seemed to be doing okay but there was no way he could have helped anyone in his current state.

A tense fifteen minutes later Law walked out to inform everyone that it wasn’t as bad of a hit to the head as it had seemed and she’d be waking up in a few hours.

“I’ll still run a few tests once she’s up just to make sure.”

“Y/n-ya,” Law called you over to him, “Want to help with Nami? I could use an extra hand.”

You nodded, happy he asked you.

You walked with him to the infirmary, and when no one was around he held your hand.

The last thing either of you really wanted was for any one of the Strawhats to know you were together.

When you entered the room Nami was awake.

“Torao! Thanks for all this,” she gestured towards the bandages and IV.

“No problem, Nami-ya,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed as he pulled out his stethoscope.

“Write down the info I give you.”

You nodded and started writing down all the different numbers and medical jargon he threw at you.

He talked with Nami and made no effort to include you in the conversation.

Nami’s chest had been bandaged and you tried your best to not think about the fact that he had been the one to bandage it.

You fought back the urge to show any irritation on your face.

Law did not want any of them to know about you two.

You knew Nami was just friendly and probably still kind of out of it, but the sickening feeling of insecurity started to seep into your body and you were becoming increasingly impatient with how damn long this was taking.

He was more talkative than usual, and you were positive that it had to do with the absolutely gorgeous woman in front of him.

“One forty over seventy.”

He was treating you like a secretary!

He cracked a terrible joke to Nami and when she actually laughed at it you decided you’d had enough.

You threw the notepad at him and walked out, telling him to take his own damn notes.

He went to find you a few hours later, and ask if you were okay.

He found you painting your nails in the Sunny’s library.

“I’m fine, Law.”

“Mmm... Definitely not true,” he said, sitting down next to you.

“How’s the patient.”

Oh, he thought, That’s what this is about.

“Good. Stable. She should sleep soundly through the night.”

You said nothing.

“I appreciate your help back there!”

He pressed a light kiss to your cheek.

“Mhm.”

After a while of Law trying to get you to talk to him, you relented a little bit and agreed to let him read while you finished your nails.

After an hour you had almost forgiven him entirely, deciding that you were overreacting and it didn’t matter now that Chopper would be able to take care of her.

You had just settled yourself against his chest when he spoke.

“I have to go check on Nami-ya soon.”

“But Chopper’s able to now.”

Law smiled, “I know. She’s still my patient.”

“I get it,” you said, jealousy having won, “I’d also be eager to play nurse if I had a patient as hot as her.”

“Bingo,” he replied.

You bit the inside of your cheek and decided not to say anything, simply getting up, batting away his hands when he tried to grab hold of you.

You stormed out, slamming the door shut and ignoring how he called out for you to come back.

You rolled your eyes as you heard Law laughing to himself.

Law trusted you with his life.

He had no secrets with you and you knew everything someone could possibly know about the doctor, reclusive and quiet as he may be.

But, just now, Law decided that there would be one thing you could never know:

How much he absolutely adored seeing you jealous.

sanji

“Would you like another drink, beautiful?”

You rolled your eyes and hastily closed your book, gathering the few things you’d brought with you to the kitchen.

“And my gorgeous Y/n-” he paused when he turned to see you headed toward the door, “Y/n where are you going?”

You closed the door behind you, ignoring him.

It was easy to be jealous when Sanji was your crush. He’d never failed to shamelessly compliment other beautiful women, and you were not a stranger to that terrible feeling of jealousy spreading throughout your body.

When Luffy announced that Boa Hancock would be staying with you all for a week or so you made a mental note to spend as much time in the library as possible.

You knew what you’d signed up for when you kissed Sanji for the first time, that it was in his nature to be a lover.

Of course, he was desperately in love with you. If you asked him for something he’d have it done before you could finish your request, and he catered to you like he was your personal butler.

Even though you weren’t official, it was clear that there were deeper feelings brewing between the kissing and touching.

He’d never done anything worse than complimenting a woman, and you were beyond positive that he hadn’t kissed anyone after the two of you kissed, but he was so irritatingly articulate.

You’d feel jealousy cloud your thinking when he’d talk to a woman, using turns of phrase that Shakespeare himself couldn’t have come up with. Of course, he was never more romantic or genuine than when he was with you, but you wanted that attention entirely to yourself.

Boa Hancock’s arrival and subsequent welcoming had played out exactly as you had expected.

Heat flooded your cheeks and face when you watched a small trickle of blood pouring from his nose, and he ran to greet her.

You left before you could watch anything else happen and still hadn't so much as introduced yourself to her.

Logically, you understood that it wasn’t her fault but her insufferable vanity didn’t help.

And though she never even pretended to entertain Sanji, she clearly didn’t mind the treatment.

Every meal revolved around her, her favorite foods, and pastries that were pink and heart-shaped. Cocktails and drinks and snacks for Boa. Everything for her.

You weren’t even sure he had noticed you were ignoring him.

As much as you hated to admit it, you’d decided to try some tactics of your own. Your skirts got shorter and your heels higher.

Today you’d opted for a pair of leggings he’d mentioned liking and a sports bra that was low cut.

It had worked, until she walked into the room.

You couldn’t exactly blame him, despite your evident dislike for her she was undeniably gorgeous and you caught yourself staring at her more than once. Luckily, you always noticed before she did.

As you made your way toward the library you saw Sanji through the kitchen window, not failing to notice that he was preparing a mountain of heart-shaped pastries.

What a clown, you thought.

A sudden clanking of metal jolted you out of your own thoughts. You turned to see Zoro mid-workout, dropping weights onto the lawn, ruining the grass.

He was sweaty and the sun was helping highlight the pounds upon pounds of intricately toned and sculpted muscle that covered him.

You stared for longer than you meant to.

“Oi!” Zoro called out to you.

“Hey, Zoro,” you walked over to him.

“You okay?”

You nodded, looking up at him with a confused expression.

“You look like shit,” he explained.

“Thanks, man.”

You asked Zoro what he was up to and he started explaining the different workouts he was doing.

While he explained you noticed that Sanji could see the two of you from the kitchen window where he was now washing dishes.

A cruel idea popped into your head and a devilish smile made its way onto your face.

Sanji wasn’t your boyfriend, and based on the way he’d been acting around every different woman he saw you figured he didn’t want to be.

If he just wanted to occasionally make out with you and throw his attention and touch at every other woman on the seas then that was fine by you.

But two could play at that game.

You made eye contact through the kitchen window, and smiled at him.

Good. He was watching you.

“Hey, Zoro,” you started, “Need a sparring partner?”

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 10 months

Text

Baby Matching Outfits

Requested: Yes [Since request are open.........I HAVE ONE.... CAN YOU PLEASE WRITE 141, KÖNIG, ALE, KEEGAN. WERE THEY MATCH THERE OUTFIT WITH THEY'RE KIDS, BUT YOU DON'T KNOW ABOUT IT AND THEY COME TO YOU AND SHOW (YOU KEEP THEM ASKING WHERE IS YOURS)🤭💞 PLEASE CAN YOU WRITE 🥹🫶]

Warnings: Sweet enough to rot your teeth

A/N: Trimmed off Price to make this six characters (the limit).

Gaz

Gaz grinned proudly at you as he held your daughter in his arms, the little one grabbing at the controller design on his t-shirt, probably recognizing it as the same thing that she’d see her Daddy holding when she was snuggled up next to him or in his lap as he played. A favorite activity of his, he liked to pretend that she was playing with him.

“I think this is the best purchase I’ve ever made before.” He tells you, bouncing Sunshine in his arms when she started to get a bit fussy. “I think she likes it! It’s a sign that she’ll like playing video games just as much as me.”

Ghost

Ghost does it unintentionally. It’s likely something that you bought because why wouldn’t you? It’s cute, references him, and it was just overall wholesome. But Ghost never really wears the shirt, and even more rarely puts the onesie on Asa. He just doesn’t understand the point. But he’s in a rush one morning to surprise you at work so he throws on the first shirt he sees and dresses your daughter in the onesie at the top of the pile.

Which leads to him holding Asa, surrounded by a group of your coworkers cooing about how cute it is that he’s matching his daughter. It’s very uncomfortable for him to say the least and he’s forever grateful when you finally meet him in the middle, shyly fiddling with Asa’s little hands.

Soap

It was a spur of the moment decision for Soap. He’d already been on his way to meet you, Bombi in his arms, when he saw the matching set in the window of a store. Ever the impulse shopper, Soap hadn’t even thought twice about whipping out his wallet and changing out his shirt and Bombi’s onesie in the bathroom before continuing on his way.

And of course he basked in the attention he got from you, even if 99% of it went to Bombi instead of him. He was proud that you liked it! “Maybe next time all of us can match, yeah?” He says, already coming up with a million and one ideas on how to do just that.

Alejandro

The matching outfits were given to him by his Mama, a late Father’s Day gift! She didn’t read English very well so she really only saw the cowboy hats and went “Perfect!!!!!” And Alejandro couldn’t help but agree. Which would be why he changed them both into the matching outfits right away and swiftly started making his way to your work, a grin on his face at every compliment he received along the way.

And then he was standing in front of you, practically glowing with pride as you cooed over him and your daughter, tickling her chubby tummy before giving him a kiss on the cheek. He definitely wouldn’t mind matching with your little one again.

Keegan

Keegan is really not one for dressing up. Barely owns a decent pair of jeans and a single shirt or two without holes all over. To say he doesn’t really care about his appearance when he’s not deployed is an understatement. Life Ghost, he probably matched with Skully unintentionally. Threw on the first shirt he saw and went with it.

So he was definitely confused when you kept giggling to yourself, looking between him and Skully, tickling the boy’s tummy as you complimented Keegan on his fashion sense. That was when he finally noticed and couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching over to hold one of Skully’s little hands in his. Maybe he could dress up a little better, as long as he matched the little one.

König

König loves to match with Princess! He has several matching shirts and onesies for him and her and he likes to wear them whenever possible. Today is one such day, your tiny baby in his arms, whining all the way to the park where he would be meeting you for lunch.

And oh he just melted when you cooked over them both, praising him for finding such cute clothes as you gently readjust the crocheted cap on Princess’ head, amused by the floppy green ears that were attached.

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yurinaa-world · 7 months

Note

Could I request Gepard, Luka and Jing Yuan with a girlfriend who loves cooking and baking for them?

Characters: Gepard, Luka, and Jing Yuan x Female Reader

Synopsis: With reader who loves to cook and bake for them

Warnings: fluff, spelling mistakes

𝒢𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝐿𝒶𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓊

He’s marrying you for sure; your cooking is just an added bonus for him, like refusing to eat when your relationship started since you made him lunch boxes that tasted way better.

He’ll help you cook or bake whenever he has a day off, no matter what he’s going to do! Need to pick up things at the store? It’s a little chilly out today; he’ll go in instead.

Gepard wearing a button-up shirt and one of your pink aprons, hair a bit messy since it’s his day off and he couldn’t care enough to fix it while helping you mix things, you can’t help but laugh.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Thank you for helping Gepard,” you smile while mixing the bowl of cake batter in your arms with Gepard's other bowl of batter.

You were planning on making a two-layer cake, and lucky enough, Gepard had a day off, wanted help, and also spent time with you. “It’s no problem at all,” he smiled back at you, his eyes sparkling at you.

when you have both finished the batter, pour it into the two of the round pans and put it into the oven. As you sigh, you put the last pan in the oven and turn around to take off your apron, with Gepard taking off his.

“You didn’t need to help me, since it's my day off,” you say, cleaning up the mess with a rag before Gepard stops and takes the rag from your hands.

“I wanted to; you go and take a rest," he says, smiling gently at you. Even if it’s his day off, he wants you to relax since you go out on your day to make things for him to be lucky enough to try.

𝐿𝓊𝓀𝒶

Whenever you go to the fight club to give him something to eat after his match, he picks you up, spins you around, and thanks you for caring enough to come here.

But you should be careful if any sweaty and mean guys see you; they might fall head over heels for beauty and try to steal you away from you but don’t worry, he’ll be there to protect you.

And he takes you out of the fight club so you can share with each other; mind you, his nose has been bleeding the whole time, and he pretends he’s fine.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“You really made me lunch,” Luka said with blood coming out of his nose, yet he had a bright smile on his face.

"Luka, your nose is bleeding?" You worried, grabbing his chin to see if there were any more marks on his face, but you saw no major bruises or scratches anywhere on him.

"Don't worry, nothing's broken,” Luka reassures you. You hand him the lunch, go into your pockets, grab a handkerchief, then place it over his nose and wipe the blood.

He grabs your wrist, gently holding it after you clean the blood dripping from his nose. "Thank you", he says, smiling at you. “Be more careful, Luka,” you lecture.

"I'm fine. Come one, let’s eat before it gets cold!" He insisted, "Okay, okay," and you laughed lightly.

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

He adores you so much, his girlfriend—you spend your precious time making meals just for him! He’ll eat anything you’ll give him since everything is like your hands were blessed.

He might as well kiss your hands as heavenly, just as your beauty is.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

While you were putting hot dishes that came from the oven onto the dinner table, any minute Jing Yuan would come back home, the sound of the front door opening would tell you that he was home.

huge smile on his face as he hugs you. “How is my beautiful girlfriend doing?" Jing Yuan smiles and kisses your cheek. "Good, but you seem to have had a good day." “My day is always amazing when I see you."

You laugh and hug him tight. “Come on, Jing Yuan, sit down; it will be no good if everything goes cold.” You smile at him as Jing Yuan looks at the table.

“You’ve made quite a lot enough for the whole village to eat; how shall I eat all of that?" Jing Jing Yuan jokes, “If there are leftovers, I’ll pack them for Yanqing to eat.” You hum as Jing Yuan sits down, and you do the same and start eating the dishes you have made.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

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headkiss · 2 years

Text

are we more?

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: using the prompts “‘don’t go on that date’ ‘why’ ‘you know why’ ‘tell me’” “i think i’m in love with you and i’m terrified” for the longest time you thought steve was an asshole, but one date changes that.

word count: 4.4k

warnings: a terrible date (he gets really touchy but nothing happens), and fluff!!

a/n: sorry this one took me so long, but it’s finally here!!! i’m not the happiest w it but it’s taken forever and i hope u guys enjoy it <33

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Working at Family Video wasn’t all that bad. It certainly got better when Robin and—though you’d never tell anyone—Steve joined the staff.

Keith was quite the character, but as a manager, he was mostly chill. He didn’t really care what went on in the store as long as it was still running. But, when you were working there with only him, it got boring, and sometimes weird. Having more people your age there really was great, even if you weren’t one of their biggest fans.

It’s not that you disliked Steve, per say, it’s just that he got on your nerves in such a unique way and you couldn’t stand it. He was an absolute asshole in school, too, which didn’t help his case. You put up with him the best you could, because you enjoyed Robin’s company so much.

She quickly became a really close friend to you, brightening your days when you shared a shift. It was just unfortunate that Steve Harrington came along with that.

You couldn’t deny the boy was pretty, the prettiest ever, probably, but that didn’t mean anything. It didn’t. He was a dork, a huge flirt, and he teased you relentlessly. You gave it right back, and still, he never gave up.

You sighed when he walked into the store for his shift.

“Hey, babe! How’s it goin’ today?”

“Great until you got here, Harrington.”

“Ouch! You wound me, princess.”

“Would you stop calling me that?”

“No! It gets you all flustered and mad.”

God, he was so aggravating.

Steve loved to bother you, loved to have your attention on him even if it wasn’t positive. He didn’t know exactly why you hated him, and he wanted to change it so badly, but he didn’t know how. You were a stubborn person, and no matter what he tried, you still rolled your eyes at the sight of him. So, instead of pouting about it, he forced his way under your skin.

From his place leaning on the counter, he observed you as you restocked shelves. He liked watching the stretch of your arm when you had to put something on the top shelf, the way your hair fell around your face when you bent to a lower shelf. He liked you, really. Robin would tease him for it constantly; having a crush on someone who couldn’t stand him was very Steve of him.

When you finished unloading the box, you walked over to where Steve stood behind the counter. You perched yourself on the small stool near the computer, sighing in boredom and drawing Steve’s attention over to you once more. He didn’t say anything, only eyed you softly, and you took notice.

“What are you looking at?”

“You. Duh.”

“Can you not.”

He’s about to reply, to egg you on, when the bell above the door rings signaling the entrance of a customer. She’s young, about your age, and Steve walks around the counter, saying a quick, ‘duty calls!’

You roll your eyes because you know he’s just going to flirt with her, that he’s just going to get himself another date that won’t work out. You ignore the small punch in your gut at the thought, the irritation you feel at the image of him bringing her flowers and driving her around in his BMW. You hate that image.

He doesn’t notice when the bell rings once again, too busy with his conversation. You notice, though, because the person walking in is Ryan. He was in school with you and Steve, and lately, he’s been trying to get you to agree to go out with him.

“Hey, y/n.”

“Ryan, how can I help you?”

“Well I’m not looking to rent a movie. I’m looking for a date to go see a movie.”

“Are you ever gonna quit?”

“Nope. What do you say? Tonight?”

You spare a glance back at Steve and the customer he has giggling, she’s pretty, you think. There’s that pinch in your gut again and you decide, yes, this time you will agree to go on a date.

“Okay. Fine.”

“Cool. See ya.”

Then, he was walking out.

You felt weird about saying yes, no excitement, no giddiness. But, when you saw Steve ushering the customer out with a hand on her back, you felt better about it.

By the time Family Video was closed and you and Steve were finishing up, you were eager to get out of there, to leave and get your date over with. He noticed your picked up pace, the way you moved quicker than usual.

“What’s with the fire under your ass, princess? Wanna get away from me that badly?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I have a date to go get ready for.”

You don’t know why you told him. It could be because you had to tell someone, or because you wanted him to hear about your plans for once. He’s always mentioning his dates, rubbing it in your face, even. So, it’s quite possible you wanted to get his reaction for once, a taste of his own medicine.

“Really? With who?”

He didn’t mean to sound so shocked, but he hadn’t seen you entertain any flirtatious advances, let alone agree to going out with someone. He was surprised, and, yeah, he was jealous. He wanted to take you out, to pick you up with flowers and compliment you right away. But, he knew better than to hope for that.

“Is it really so hard to believe I’d go out with someone?”

“No! No, I’m just taking it in. Who is it?”

“Ryan.”

“Absolutely not. He’s an asshole, seriously.”

“So were you.”

Were. Like you were finally admitting to having seen the change in him since school. For as much shit as you gave him about ‘King Steve,’ you weren’t blind, you knew he was different. But, that didn’t erase his actions. Not for you.

“I know that. But he still is!”

“Whatever, Steve. I’m gonna go now.”

The date was going horribly.

Ryan took you to the movies, which wasn’t bad, but his car was messy and he drove a little too recklessly for your taste. You were tense the whole drive, hands gripping the sides of your seat, deep breaths puffing out of your mouth.

Then, he made you pay for the tickets, even though he’s the one who asked you out because ‘you’re a working lady!’ and stuff like that. The last thing you wanted was for Steve to be right, but he was.

Ryan was still an asshole.

You were kind of grateful he’d chosen the movies, because it meant less talking and getting to eat popcorn. You could put up with that and pretend it went just great when Steve inevitably asked you about it tomorrow. No worries.

As you walked up the steps to your seats, Ryan behind you, no doubt looking at your ass, you were trying to force yourself to have a good time. To really try to have fun even if it wasn’t an ideal situation. Ryan couldn’t be that bad, you could handle him.

You didn’t see it when your date high fived a random guy in the theatre for being there with you.

As the movie went on, Ryan kept trying to hold your hand, to put his arm around you. You weren’t a fan and he clearly wasn’t taking the hint. At some point, you thought he’d finally given up, that he’d just leave it alone.

Unfortunately, you were wrong.

One second, you were just eating popcorn with an annoying date next to you, the next, he was putting his hand on your thigh. You tried shaking your leg to get him to take it off, and it didn’t work. You were getting uncomfortable, so you stood up quickly and muttered a quick excuse that you were going to the bathroom.

He waved you off.

Your heart was beating quickly as you made your way out of the screening room. You needed a way out of this date and you needed it now. You paced in the hallway of the theatre, deserted and warmly lit. Before you could even think about a plan, Ryan was there, grabbing your wrist too tightly.

“Got lost on the way to the bathroom there?”

“No. I actually have to go.”

His grip tightened on you when you tried to walk away, fingertips pushing into the delicate skin of your wrist, bruising and painful.

“You sure about that?”

“Ryan, let go. That hurts.”

“You’ve been teasing me all night. Wearing a fucking skirt and you want to leave?”

“What?”

He threw your wrist out of his grasp, and you massaged the area he’d been holding with your other hand. You knew he was an asshole but you never expected it to be this bad. Your hands were shaking and your breaths weren’t steady. You needed to leave.

“Fucking bitch. You can walk home.”

He stormed off after that, getting in his car and driving off. You watched him go through the glass doors of the theatre. At first, you were one hundred percent happy he was gone, then you remembered you didn’t have a way home anymore and the walk would take you eternity.

The only number that came to your mind was Steve’s, which was odd considering you never used it before. You only knew what it was because of work, having to know all of your coworkers contact information was annoying, but you supposed it worked out for you in the end.

You found the nearest pay phone, shaky hands inserting a coin and dialing Steve’s number. Sighing as you heard the dial tone, cursing yourself for calling him when the phone started ringing. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that he wasn’t home, but you didn't need to because he picked up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Steve?”

He was shocked to be hearing your voice on the other side of the phone. He couldn’t figure out for the life of him why you would be calling him. Didn’t you hate him? Or was he wrong about that? His mind was reeling all because of a phone call from you. Maybe he felt something for you that was stronger than like.

He was snapped out of it when you said his name again, quiet and barely there, but he heard it.

“Yeah. Hi. It’s me. Why are you calling? You never call.”

“I know… I just, um, I didn’t know who else to call. I need a ride. Please?”

He noticed the way your voice cracked, the way you had to pause between words like you were trying not to cry. He racked his brain trying to remember where he put his keys.

“Are you okay, princess?”

“Guess you were right. Ryan’s still an asshole. Can you come get me?”

He was standing before you even finished the question. He’d do anything for you.

“Where are you?”

You told him, and he hung up with a promise of being there soon.

You all but ran to Steve’s BMW when he arrived, eager to escape the nightmare that was this night. You were so relieved to see him for once and your mind was too frazzled to think about that.

He unlocked the doors for you as soon as he saw you stand from your seat on the curb. He went as far as leaning over the console to open the passenger door for you, giving you the quickest way into his car.

Your mood was evident as soon as you took your spot in the passenger seat. Your leg immediately bouncing up and down, hands fidgeting with the hem of your clothes. Being calm was not happening for you, still on edge from being grabbed and talked down to the way you were.

“Want me to take you home?”

Steve spoke in an almost-whisper. It was like he didn’t want to scare you, to cause you any amount of distress. He could tell that you were anxious, uncomfortable about what happened. He wanted to take it away so badly.

“Yeah. Thanks, Steve.”

Your voice was small, shaky. Your eyes seemed to be permanently teary and the last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of Steve. Over a date.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

He spared a quick glance over at you as he drove. He noticed the way your bottom lip was wobbling, the way your eyes were squeezed shut so you wouldn’t cry. The car was pulling over before he even realized. The boy just wanted to comfort you, and he couldn’t do that if he was focused on driving.

“Hey, princess. It’s okay. You’re okay. Talk to me.”

“You probably think I’m so stupid.”

The tears were falling now, and you couldn’t stop them. You just felt like an idiot, like you deserved everything Ryan said to you. You felt gross and dirty and all you wanted to do was curl up into a ball on your bed and sob.

“Look at me. I do not think you’re stupid. What happened, sweetheart?”

“He, um, he kept trying to put his hands on me and stuff and-”

“Did he hurt you? Oh my god.”

“Steve. No, nothing happened. He just grabbed my wrist kinda tight and said some stuff and it was humiliating.”

“Your wrist? Can I see?”

You wiped your tears away with the back of your hand before holding it out to Steve, letting him hold your forearm in his gentle grasp.

“Shit. He left bruises.”

“I’m fine.”

He shook his head, a small frown on his face at the image of fucking Ryan hurting you. Steve brought your wrist up to his mouth, kissing your marked skin so lightly you almost missed it.

“You don’t deserve anything he did or said to you, okay? None of it. You’re a great girl.”

He was so soft with you at this moment, so caring and it was like your whole view on him just shifted. All this time you thought he was this egotistical ass, you were too distracted by the banter between the two of you to see how good he was. Maybe the irritation was something else, buried under the false pretence of dislike when in reality he made you smile. He made you think about him constantly.

You get jealous when he gets dates, for fucks sake.

“I’m sorry I’m so mean to you, Steve.”

You felt awful because of it. He deserved more than what you were, better than how you treated him. All this time this pretty, sweet boy was right in front of you and you couldn’t stop teasing him long enough to see that.

You were crying more now, the tears a constant stream down your face leaving small tracks in your makeup.

“Hey. Shhh. No, stop that. It’s okay, listen to me,” he was holding your face in his hands, thumbs swiping at the wetness on your cheeks. He forced you to look at him with his hold on your face, your sad eyes blinking up at him.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Stop, sweet girl. You’re not mean to me, okay? It’s okay. Do you want me to take you home now?”

He was so shocked at the apology you gave him, the genuine sadness he could see all over your features at the idea of hurting him even after the awful night you had.

“Okay.”

“Okay, I’ll drive you home. Please stop crying.”

“I’m sorry. Thank you for getting me.”

“You call me anytime you need to. I’m there.”

As he drove the rest of the way home, your small sniffles breaking the silence in the car, he couldn’t help but think about what you said. The fact that you were taken on this awful date and that wasn’t even what you were the most upset about was killing him. He wanted to hold you and never let go.

He loved you. He knew that now. And you called him when you needed someone.

You called him. Not Robin, not anyone else. Him. That had to mean something.

You and Steve were both working the next day, which was going to be awkward.

You cried in front of him. He wiped your tears away and cared for you while you were hurting even after everything.

You did a lot of reflecting last night, after showering off the disgusting feeling of Ryan lingering on you. You realized that all this time, you didn’t actually harbour negative feelings towards Steve, only to the person you once knew him to be.

As soon as you opened your eyes to who he is now, to how you felt when he was around, you realized you liked him. A lot. Maybe more than liked, even, and it was scary.

The decision you made to show up way too early for work paid off because Robin was there, and she’s exactly who you needed to talk to. She was confused to see you an hour before yours and Steve’s shift started, but she welcomed you all the same.

“Hey! Why are you here so early?”

“I really need to talk to you and you can’t say anything until I’m done, okay?”

“Okay, shutting up now!”

“So last night I went on the worst date ever, it was awful and I freaked out and called Steve to come get me because Ryan left me there-”

“Why would you go out with Ryan?”

“Robin!”

“Sorry! I’m actually shutting up this time.”

“So Steve took me home and I cried in front of him in the car. He literally had to pull over and he wiped my tears and stuff. I’m just so confused because I thought I didn’t like him but I was so wrong. So, so wrong. I really like him, I think I love him and I’m freaking out.”

She just stared at you blankly, absorbing everything you just said and making sure you were done talking before she responded. When you simply nodded at her to let her know she could reply, you were surprised with all she had to say.

“Finally!”

“What?”

“You two have had feelings for each other for so long it’s been driving me insane! I mean, seriously, all the teasing and glances. You’re so oblivious to it all, seriously.”

“Why didn’t you tell me!”

“Tell you how you feel? Come on! Steve’s liked you forever, too. Can't you just suck it up and tell him?”

“No! I’ve been so mean to him and why would he want that around him? He’ll never believe me or want to be with me.”

“God, you two are so annoying.”

“Robin!”

You couldn’t believe the idea that Steve liked you a fraction of how much you recently discovered you liked him. After everything you’ve said, everything you put him through, how could he?

You and Robin changed the subject after that, deciding that it was better for you to just think about what was said and what you wanted to do from there. The rest of the time before your shift flew by, and before you knew it, Steve was walking through the door to get to work.

Mostly to see you, though.

Steve’s mind was reeling ever since last night. Thoughts about you, wondering if you were okay, analyzing everything that was said. He couldn’t stop thinking about how you cried, how you let him hold you and how you apologized to him even though he didn’t need it. He was already in love with you, sorry or not.

He decided he would tell you how he felt sometime soon. The time was wasting and after everything he’d been through he couldn’t imagine letting it keep ticking by without trying.

As soon as you heard the bell above the door ring signaling Steve’s entrance, you looked over. His eyes locked onto yours and the seconds seemed to slow then. The world pausing for the two of you.

Robin noticed the moment. She just rolled her eyes and excused herself saying, “that’s my cue!”

You both snapped out of it when she called out a ‘bye lovebirds!’ before walking out of the store, leaving you alone with Steve. He walked behind the counter, leaning on it beside you.

“Hi, princess. How you doing?”

“Steve, I’m okay. Thank you, again. I’m really sorry I made you come get me… and that I cried. That was really embarrassing.”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m here for you, I mean it.”

“But, I’ve been rude to you.. judged you because of high school. I just feel awful. I don’t deserve your kindness.”

He hated how sad you looked over his feelings. You were the one who had an awful, scary night. Not him. The boy wanted you to be okay, to forgive yourself because he forgave you the second your gaze softened towards him.

“Stop it. You deserve everything good. Everything. I’m gonna go put these returns back, okay? Stop beating yourself up. We’re okay.”

He touched your arm softly as he passed, the small brush of his hand sending waves through you. Mind, body, and soul. He affected you and you wanted him. You loved him.

You never thought you would be one to call for Steve Harrington, but here you were. You had probably been falling for months now, never even knowing it. This was crazy.

To make everything even crazier, the next time the bell above the door rang, it was none other than Ryan. Your nightmare date. Absolute asshole. You were not ready to deal with him.

“y/n. Hey.”

“Go away Ryan.”

Steve was in the back now, organizing movies and trying to give you space. He didn’t hear the bell jingle and he didn’t know who was out there. If he did, he’d have some choice words and maybe even a punch to give.

“Come on. Let me make it up to you.”

“No. Please leave.”

Your eyes were searching around the store for Steve, for an escape from this guy and this conversation. You couldn’t see him, though. All you could do was hope that he would come back soon, that some kind of intuition would lead him to find you.

“Babe, seriously. One date and I’ll prove to you last night was a fluke.”

“Don’t call me ‘babe’ and stop asking me out. No.”

“Such a bitch.”

Steve chose that moment to walk out of the back room, brows furrowing at the sight of fucking Ryan talking to you. He could tell you weren’t having it, that you weren’t comfortable with it. Your hands were fidgeting, shaking.

“I think she told you to leave.”

“Steve Harrington! A hero!”

“Get the fuck out, Ryan. Seriously.”

Steve was talking slowly, menacingly. His voice a demand that you’d never heard come from him before. He was always soft, light, and right now he was anything but.

“Jesus, Steve, you really fell off since school.”

“No, I’m better now, thanks. You can leave now.”

You stood watching the two of them, not able to utter a word. You were nervous to see what would happen, hoping that Ryan would just leave and no punches would be thrown. As much as he deserved one.

“Whatever,” Ryan turned to you then, eyes scanning you up and down in anger, disgust. “You’re lucky King Steve was here to save you. You’re a fucking bore anyways. Bye.”

You let out a breath after he left, one of relief and shock. What the fuck. Steve defended you. Ryan came back and was just as horrible as you remembered. Why was this all happening to you? There was so much confusion and self-doubt running through your head.

“Hey, sweet girl. What happened before I showed up?”

“He tried to get me to go out with him again. Redemption or something.”

“Fuck that. Don’t go on that date.”

The atmosphere seemed to shift. You were standing really close together. When did that happen? Steve was holding both of your hands in his, stopping your nervous fiddling and soothing you. He looked all over your face, eyes scanning and sweet and captivating as ever.

“Steve…”

“Don’t go.”

“I wasn’t going to. But why? What’s it to you.”

“You know why. Don’t make me say it. Please.”

Was this really happening? Were things about to be confessed in the dingy space that was Family Video? You really hoped it was. That you weren’t dreaming some kind of crazy realistic dream. Because Steve was the most real you’d ever seen him now.

His eyes pleading with you, trying to find any sign that you would relent, let him save his words to himself. It was too early. He still didn’t know if you felt the same, and no matter what he convinced himself earlier, he was scared. So scared to admit his emotions.

You let go of one of his hands to push his hair off of his forehead, “tell me.”

“Fuck. I can’t.”

“Steve. Tell me.”

Your hand grasped his face, coaxing him to keep his eyes on yours. To see how serious you were. You wanted to hear this and you wanted to say it back. All this considering he was going to say what you thought he was.

“I’m in love with you and I'm terrified. I’m so scared because for a long time I was convinced you could never feel the same and then last night you called me. You called me, and all I wanted to do was hold you and kiss you and make sure you were okay and I still do. I still do and I’m scared. I don’t deserve you, I don’t think I ever could-”

You cut him off by kissing him, too overwhelmed with everything he said to say anything back before pulling him into you. Steve reciprocated right away, his free hand wrapping around your waist to hold you as close as possible.

He was dreaming. He had to be. His dream girl, kissing him. You were perfect, and he was kissing you.

You pulled away after a bit, needing to say it back.

“I love you, Steve. I’m so sorry for how long I’ve been blind, I haven’t been fair to you and I want to fix it. But I love you, and I want you to let me prove that to you.”

“Maybe you can just kiss me again? Think that’ll work.”

You did, impossibly grateful that it was a quiet day in Family Video. You supposed you should be grateful for this job. It ultimately brought you and Steve together.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington requests #steve harrington one shot

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pftones3482 · 4 months

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"Ummm they toned down the abuse from Gabe in Percy Jackson because it's a kids show, stop being mad about it"

Ignoring the fact that it's also a children's book, let's take a look at some children's media in the last couple decades that depict parental abuse towards children that isn't physical, but still makes the abuse feel real:

1. Harry Potter. I'm loathe to even put it on here bc of how much I hate JKR, but HP DOES depict child abuse in probably one of the best ways of any modern media. As far as I can remember (correct me if I'm wrong), the Dursley's never lay a hand on Harry. But it is never even questioned if they're awful people towards Harry - they literally make him sleep in a closet.

2. Matilda. Like do I even need to explain this one? Abuse from not only her whole family (again, NONE of it physical from what I recall), but also from other authority figures. And she's not the only character who deals with parental abuse - Miss Honey is a grown adult shown to be dealing with the negative effects of an abusive parental figure.

3. Phineas and Ferb. Laugh all you want, but Doofenshmirtz's parents were genuinely awful to him. His stories are just tamed down in a way that's palpable to a much younger audience while still also being clear abuse - a young child can chuckle at his stories but STILL understand why maybe some of his stories would turn him evil.

4. Avatar the Last Airbender. Zuko's father physically disables his own son. Not to mention the constant emotional neglect and manipulation on top of it, the writers never held back on how bad his father was. Even if he hadn't scarred Zuko, he would still be a clear depiction of an abusive parent.

5. The Willoughbys. The parents are so awful that the kids literally plot to murder them. The parents abandoned them to freeze to death on top of a mountain. Enough said.

6. Percy fucking Jackson.

Percy Jackson IS a book made for kids that depicts child abuse from a parent - and not only does it depict child abuse, it depicts spousal abuse.

I know Percy doesn't know that Gabe is physically hurting Sally in the beginning of the book. But we as the audience know that Gabe DOES hurt Percy. There is not a single sign in the new show that Percy has anything more than a snarky, annoyed view of Gabe.

Gabe is supposed to be smelly and disgusting, a drunk (which, even if they can't depict that in a Disney show, you can still play around with his grossness), a slob, and a gambler. He's barely even greasy in the show. Literally they could have just had him belch a few times or eat messily and it would have given off a better impression of his character. Instead, he just quips back and forth with Percy and then later is just...whining. He's whiney. He does not ring as a man who abuses his family, emotionally OR physically, he rings as a pathetic step-dad figure who can't support himself (which is ALSO not canon, because in the book he runs an auto store! His abuse towards Sally is not for lack of money, it's just because he's a dick!!!) The fact that I think that Doof's parents in Phineas and Ferb are more overtly abusive than him on screen is actually absurd.

And Sally fell flat. Her character in the book doesn't yell literally ever - not once in the whole series can I recall her legitimately yelling at someone. Her persona is kind and gentle in the books and as for wits, she's clever, and sneaky, and cunning. She fights back with Gabe in ways that we as the audience can see, but Gabe misses because he's so dense.

Take the bean dip scene.

In the show, she basically is like "Yeah yeah I'll make the bean dip, shut up" and Gabe just whines about the sour cream while they yell at each other.

In the book? That's her bargaining chip to take the car for the weekend. That's her ticket out of the house. Bribery. Not just placating a whining husband - she bribes him in the books.

And her yelling back? Just feels so unnatural to Sally Jackson as a whole. I saw someone say she feels like Disney girl-bossed her, and they're right. She doesn't feel like Sally Jackson. She feels like just another cut and paste Disney woman who's snappy and doesn't take shit.

And to be clear - the OG Sally Jackson also didn't take shit. She was just so much more clever about it, in a way that made sure Percy never saw her actively yell. She doesn't have to be snarky and rude to get her way. Percy knows she's fighting back without physically fighting, and that's what makes her so strong. Sometimes you have to fight more with your wits and cleverness than you do with screaming and fists

(Gee...wonder what other character Percy ends up really admiring that also holds that philosophy in life?)

Anyway...all that said, stop blaming the fact that it's a children's show on Gabe's watered down personality. Children's shows/movies and family shows/movies have been depicting serious parental abuse and neglect for decades, in both realistic and more humorous ways that don't take away from the neglect. Kids can handle it, because there are kids going through it.

To say that "It's a kids show, kids shouldn't have to see that," is a disservice to the kids who need to see that, so they know that they can get away too, and they don't have to get physical to do it.

Also, this version of Gabe? Doesn't deserve to die. He's just annoying, not an asshole that scares Percy more than literal monsters do.

#pjo #percy jackson #pjo series #gabe ugliano #sally jackson #disney #yo ho yo ho a pirate's life for me

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icyg4l · 8 days

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PAC: How to Heal Your Broken Heart

Hello beautiful people! If you are currently going through a romantic break-up, I send my love to you. 🫶 But here, I will give advice on how you can deal with your grief. I am not a therapist so if you feel like you need to contact one, I would highly encourage that you do that. If you resonate with this reading and would like a more personalized reading, please read my guidelines and message me privately so you can receive one. Without further ado, please select your pile!

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-4)

Pile One: You need to acknowledge that this was meant for you to happen! There is nothing wrong with being single, lovely. Sometimes things just don’t work out and that’s okay. Right now, it’s time for you to focus on bigger and better things without someone by your side. You could have been with your partner for years and one day things just ended. It happens. But the best for you to do right now is to get your hair and nails done. Get to know yourself as a person, not as a partner. You have so much personality, Pile One. You need to take up more space on your own. You don’t need someone to conquer the world with you. I feel like you honestly just have to get used to being by yourself so find literally anything to do by yourself. Read, go for a walk, buy yourself flowers, take yourself on dates. Spend more time making yourself the main character instead of finding ways to antagonize your ex.

Cards Used: Ace of Cups (RX), Four of Wands, Judgment, 7 of Discs, 9 of Swords, 9 of Cups.

extras: fancy dates. peach smoothie. alice in wonderland. benedict cumberbatch. “lumberyard.”

Pile Two: You got a lot of cards, which means that you need to listen up. Pile Two, when was the last time you’ve been outside with your friends? You may have spent a lot of time in isolation in your previous relationship. You don’t have to do that anymore. Your girls are waiting on you. It is best that you go to as many parties that you can find to avoid going back because you don’t need to be with a manipulative liar anymore. I would also suggest that you go to a jewelry store and go spoil yourself. The codependency in your last relationship was abnormal and it’s time that you realize it. I feel like this person took the light away from you and you’re slowly but surely gaining your power back. Your energy is similar to Pile One but I feel like the focus for you is to empower yourself. Adopt the mindset that things will work out for you. Assuming the worst possible outcome is going to work for you. You have to let yourself shine because no one is dimming your light anymore. Surround yourself with positivity and please please please make sure you’re around people that make you feel comfortable and like yourself. Right now is a crucial time for you. Treat it as such.

Cards Used: 6 of Discs, 9 of Discs, King of Discs, Princess of Wands, 8 of Wands, 4 of Cups, The Magician (RX), The Hanged Man, The World, The Emperor, Ace of Wands, 3 of Cups.

extras: “party hard.” tiger print. mr rogers. sofia the first. birthday pin. red dot.

Pile Three: I feel like this pile has to get their body in check. Have you been having physical health problems as of lately? I feel like you need to see a doctor. I am getting the image of someone with a fever getting their temperature checked. It’s almost summertime, this shouldn’t be happening! So first things first, take your Vitamin C. Once you take care of your physical health, you should affirm that everything will be okay. Expose yourself to new places, people and things. Take a getaway trip for the weekend, maybe longer. I think you should also write affirmations on post-its and put them up around your house. I feel like this pile went through a mutual break up but it still hurts. This will sound weird but you’ve been through worse so this shouldn’t break you, lol. I think that’s your spirit guides way of saying to stay optimistic about your situation. There’s an advantage in your situation. You will find more things to laugh about when it comes to your situation. Another thing that I suggest that you do is remove your ex’s energy; their clothes, pictures of them, any and everything. Get it out!

Cards Used: 4 of Discs, Temperance, Queen of Cups, Princess of Swords, 2 of Swords, 5 of Swords (RX), The Sun, 6 of Discs, The Star, Ten of Cups, Queen of Discs

extras: cameras flashing. candied yams. apples and oranges. dominoes pizza. hot flashes. quince.

Pile Four: I’m not going to lie, it may be time for you to consider taking the extra step to getting your mental health in check. If you have been feeling like ending it all, then please talk to a psychiatrist. They may prescribe you with medication. I feel like you need that extra boost. Shit feels stagnant with this group. It’s all about personal accountability with you guys. Yes, it sucks to have your heart broken but how will you fix it? How will you recover? I think you should get in touch with your family. It’s been a minute since you talked to them, hasn’t it? You might feel like they will mock you for going through it or say “I told you so” but they won’t. They’ll be angry about the fact that you were cheated on & manipulated. You were too good and too pretty for your ex, Pile Four. Any plans that you had with them are gone and it’s time to accept that. You may have a hard time moving on but it’s best that you are supported by those who have your best interest at heart. You absolutely can do it. Turn your pain into art. Make music, write poetry, draw something. Do anything to keep your energy moving and flowing. You should also get physical. I channeled Dua Lipa’s song for you as well. So get in the gym & build your physique, begin a cardio routine, just do it!!!

Cards Used: 6 of Cups, Ten of Discs, King of Wands (RX), The Empress, The Star, Death, 9 of Discs (RX), Ten of Swords, The Chariot (RX).

extras: agent of chaos. black ops. nike. “that’s not my forte.” acting. self-righteous. fake smile. eye bend.

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hailsatanacab · 8 months

Note

For the prompt ask game!

9. Sleep deprivation and/or 37. Secret Relationship and/or 40. Identity reveal/major secret reveal

(I selected a few so you can chose the one that resonates the most.)

For any DPxDC characters. <3

*emerges from a google docs, covered in blood and panting* i did it... it is done.

thank you for the prompt!! because i love a challenge, or because i can't stop myself, i went and did all of them!! for everyone!! everyone is sleep deprived and everyone is revealing secrets ^^'

Danny/Tim, mentioned Jazz/Jason

(๑•́ ₃ •̀๑) enjoy!! prompt ask game

kid napping

“Red Robin, sound off. Status?”

“All good here, Oracle. Everything okay?”

It’s been a slow night, never a good sign. Pent up energy itches under his skin and he stretches when he stands, preparing for whatever Oracle is going to throw his way. It’s going to be something, he can tell.

“Good.” Relief briefly colours her voice answers, before she becomes serious again, keys clacking away in the background. “There’s been a report from Agent A. It appears that one Timothy Drake has been kidnapped and is being ransomed for five million dollars and a helicopter. I’m tracing the call now.”

“A helicopter, too? Kidnappers these days, used to be they just wanted their money and that would be the end of it… a fucking helicopter, wow.” Red Hood scoffs, and Red Robin can’t help but join in the laughter over the comms.

“Doesn’t exactly sound like these are the brightest tools in the shed now, does it, Hood? Wonder what poor schmuck they’ve got instead.” Nightwing says, slightly out of breath.

The smile slips off Red Robin’s face and clammy, cold dread shivers down his spine. A stone settles in his stomach. He wets his lips and clears his throat. “Oracle, can you pull up the CCTV on my apartment near WE? Any closer to tracing the call?”

“Still on the trace, they’re using a jammer. Agent A is cooperating so they should phone back soon, which will help.” she reports, falling into silence as he finds the video feed.

“You know who it is?”

“I hope not.”

It’s tense, he taps his feet on the rooftop, fingers tightening over his grapple as he fights the urge to fly off the roof and check for himself. It better not be him. Please, dear God, don’t let it not be him.

“What are you thinking, Red Robin?” Batman growls through the comms. Red Robin can hear the wind under his words, whipping fast as he no doubt makes his way over to his position.

“I had a, uh, a friend coming over tonight. From behind, he… he could be mistaken for Tim Drake.”

The jokes fall silent, the comms growing serious as they pick up on his tone.

“Well, fuck.”

“Eloquent as always, Hood.”

“Shut up, bat-brat.”

“You were right, Red Robin, it looks like it was your… friend they caught, instead. About two hours before the call came in. I’m following their van now, I should have the destination soon. In the meantime, it looks like they’re heading towards the docks.”

Red Robin throws himself off the building, shooting his grapple as low as he dares to get the fastest swing he can.

They have Danny.

Worry gnaws at his gut even as gravity pulls it into his throat with another swing.

Danny is… And Red Robin means this in the nicest way possible, but Danny is fragile. They haven’t talked about it, but RR knows that Danny has health problems. Something plaguing him since he was young, that’s landed him in the hospital more than once. A weak heart, far too slow to be normal, possibly chronic fatigue—he’s always so tired, falling asleep anywhere he can.

Sometimes, he doesn’t even need to put his head down. Once, when they had gone to the corner store to get some popcorn to enjoy their movie (which Danny had explicitly and repeatedly promised he wouldn’t snore through this time), Danny had rested his head on Tim’s shoulder while they were waiting and he’d just… gone. On his feet, asleep, just like that.

He’d laughed, when Tim woke him up. Apologised. Said Tim made him feel safe enough to fall asleep just about anywhere and—

Red Robin grits his teeth and corrects his course as Oracle updates them with more precise coordinates.

Tim had carried him home that night, piggy-back for four blocks, but by the end of it, he wasn’t tired at all. And that’s another thing, Danny’s just so light. It’s concerning.

They never did watch that movie, but it’s a night that Tim can’t help remembering fondly all the same. They’d ended up rewatching some old sitcom that Danny’s seen countless times but Tim’s never really bothered with, Danny drifting off to sleep again and Tim eventually following him, because… sleep is easy with Danny.

It’s the same for him, he thinks. He can’t explain it, but he feels safe enough to sleep with Danny, too.

He needs to be alright.

“So… Is this friend just a friend? Or a friend friend?”

“A friend, Nightwing. Now hurry up.”

He’s not in the mood to play these games, not now. There’s a reason why none of them know about Danny, and this is one of them. His family, as much as he loves them, are just too damn nosey for their own good.

“You know that doesn’t answer my question at all.”

“Then why don’t you ask something intelligible, rather than continue with your childish antics?” Robin snarks, and for once, Red Robin has to agree with him. Or, rather, he’s grateful for the distraction that it gives him.

Tim has secrets. He’s sure that Danny does, too, and so far—aside from the standard background check he always runs on new friends and friend friends alike—he’s done very well to respect them. He just can’t say that his family would do the same.

They can be overwhelming, to say the least, and Tim has tried his best to protect Danny from that.

Only to fail to protect him in every other way that it counts.

“How long have you guys been ‘friends’?”

“Nightwing, save it, please.”

“What’s his name?”

He ignores him.

Red Robin lands on the building first, thank goodness. He wastes no time in finding a skylight that can be pried open fairly quietly, slipping inside without a second thought.

“Wait for backup, Red Robin, that is an order!” Batman says, when he lets them know he’s in.

“Negative, Batman. I’m getting him back.”

“Red Robin!”

He weaves silently through the desks on the second floor of the warehouse, always moving, always keeping a trained eye on the shadows around him.

When he reaches the stairs, he hears voices.

“Looks like three of them, armed. The-the hostage is tied to a chair in the middle of the room, he…” Red Robin takes a steadying breath. The person has a burlap sack over their head is slumped to the side, from where he is, Red Robin can’t see if his chest is moving. There’s blood on the floor. “He needs medical assistance. Another two on the northside entrance.”

The comms explode in admonitions, everyone pleading with him to stay where he is, to wait for help, but fuck that. With a tap, he switches them off and he can finally, just about make out the words of the kidnappers as he creeps down the first few steps.

“—shouldn’t he have woken up by now?”

“I don’t know, man, you’re the one that hit him! Do you think he’s—”

“No! I didn’t even hit him that hard, I swear!” the man cries, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just couldn’t take any more of his stupid jokes!”

If there was any doubt in Red Robin’s mind that they picked up Danny by mistake, it’s gone now. Yeah. If you get Danny, you get his stupid jokes, too.

He creeps closer.

There’s some storage crates between him and Danny, if he can get behind there without being seen then that leaves him in a good position for when whoever’s next in takes out the guys at the front. He can’t do anything without them gone first, not without risking them taking shots inside and endangering Danny.

The man that hit Danny circles round behind him and grabs at his hands.

“What are you even doing, Pat? Who gives a shit, leave him alone.”

“I’m just checking! I just gotta see!”

“Fuck’s sake, guys, who cares? We just gotta get our money, that’s it—”

“And our helicopter!”

“And our—”

“Shit, I can’t find a pulse! Shit, Frank, I killed him, I—”

Jason told him once that when the Pits overtook him, he used to see green. Instead of blacking out, he’d be swimming in that putrid Lazarus colour and he’d slip into that rage and bad things would happen.

He’s heard of people seeing red, too, but really, he thinks that’s more of a literary device.

Tim doesn’t see anything aside from his targets.

A barrage of birdarangs take the guns from the guys at the front, the three around Danny startling badly enough that the guy that kil—that’s behind Danny—stumbles, losing his footing.

Only one of them shoots.

Amateurs.

There’s a round of curses on the comms as the shots come through. Oracle must have turned them back on.

“Fucking hell—Nightwing and I are at the front, Red Robin, don’t worry about them.”

Red Robin’s barely listening.

He spins, kicking the largest guy in the stomach hard enough so that he doubles over, wheezing. Following through the movement, another kick lands on the side of his head and he’s down.

The second one, Frank, gets his wits about him and raises his gun, spraying wildly. He’s a shit shot, going wide in panic, and Red Robin simply ducks and rushes forward, keeping low. Tackling the guy, he grabs the gun off of him and uses it to smash him across the face, once, twice, three times, before he stops moving.

“Oracle, get police and paramedics on scene, now.” Batman says, the displeasure in his voice evident. “Red Robin, Robin and I are coming in from the top.”

Pat hasn’t even made it up off the floor yet, scrambling backwards, fear plain on his face.

Red Robin stands, breathing heavily, gun still in hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to do it! Please—please, don’t, please!”

Red Robin doesn’t kill.

Well, no, Red Robin doesn’t normally kill.

No, that’s not quite right, either.

Red Robin has killed. Red Robin will more than likely kill again. Red Robin sees no problem with killing.

The gun is up, pointing towards the guy without any real thought about it.

Footsteps rush behind him, the familiar heavy footfalls of Batman and Robin, so he doesn’t bother turning around. The gun follows the guy as he keeps pulling himself backwards, snot and tears mingling down his face.

“Red Robin,” Batman says, softly.

It’s always weird hearing Batman’s voice like that. It’s not the first time, obviously—Batman can’t use his scary intimidating voice on victims or children, after all—but having it used on him is weird.

“Breathe.”

“He’s dead. They killed him.”

If hearing Batman’s voice was weird, Red Robin can’t even recognise his own.

Distantly, he realises he’s dissociating. There’s a tightness in his chest, it’s hard to breathe, a growing buzz drowns out any noise in his ears and he can’t think, he can’t—

A heavy hand squeezes his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. Batman reaches around and gently removes the gun from his grip, and Tim feels the instant loss of it. He should have done it, why hadn’t he done it?

Robin takes care of the last man, his crying cut off by a swift kick to the head. Nightwing and Red Hood join them, zip-tying the men on the floor and starting to drag them back to the entrance of the warehouse one by one.

No one says a word.

Shrugging off Batman’s hand, Tim moves towards the chair.

Shaking, he takes a deep breath and removes the sack. The small part of him that was left hoping it wasn’t him, it couldn’t be him, please dear God let it not be him, shatters.

Even dead, he looks peaceful.

Tim’s seen death. He’s no stranger to it, he’s seen what it can do to a person. There’s some blood coagulating over his eyebrows, but otherwise, he looks peaceful. Is that comforting? That he didn’t suffer?

Danny’s head lolls to the side as the sack comes completely away, his hair flopping over his eyes. Tim’s been on at him to get a haircut lately, he thinks it’ll be nice tidied up a bit, just on the sides. It’ll get rid of that permanent bedhead. Help him with job interviews, he’s got to be thinking about that now that he’s in his last year of college.

It’s about the only thing that’ll hold him back, Tim thinks. Danny’s brilliant. Any employer would be a fool to turn him down because of his shaggy hair, but employers are stupid so it makes sense to put your best foot forward and—

Tim falls to his knees.

Fuck.

He’s dead, he’s really—Danny’s skin is horribly pale, cold to the touch. Gone is his bright, cheerful smile.

“Danny, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I—”

He stops himself with a deep, shuddering breath. He can’t break down here, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

Instead, he tips forward to rest his head in Danny’s lap, arms curling around himself. They were too late. They got here as fast as they could and they were too late.

“Danny, I’m so sorry…” he whispers. “I… I love you, I love you, I’m sorry.”

Dimly, he can feel the others standing around them. Someone crouches down beside him, resting a comforting arm over his back, but he doesn’t turn his head to see who it is. He squeezes his grip on Danny’s legs tighter.

“Come on, baby bird. Let’s—”

They’re interrupted by a huge, honking snore as Danny jerks himself awake.

Tim’s head snaps up, staring at Danny with wide eyes.

“You were asleep?” Red Robin springs up, several different emotions rapidly flip flopping through him.

“Wha… What?” Danny heaves a yawn, blinking blearily down at him. “Sorry, I’m just… they were shit kidnappers, man, really boring. Honestly, worst abduction yet.”

“You were asleep? I thought you were dead!”

“Not mutually exlusive, you know.” Danny says through another yawn. He rolls his neck around with an almighty crack and glances at everyone. “Didn’t think I’d warrant the whole Bat brigade, though…”

“The kidnappers thought they had Tim Drake.” Batman supplies, while Red Robin tries to work through the emotional whiplash.

“Ah, makes sense… wait.” Danny sits up suddenly, squinting at Red Robin. “Did you say you loved me?”

“No, of course not, why would I—”

“Tim? Is that—are you—are you Red Robin?”

“Everyone, hold the fuck up!” Red Hood shouts from the other side of the warehouse, having finished securing the perps to a streetlight outside. “Double R is dating Danny fucking Nightingale?”

Well, there goes his identity… Oh, who’s he kidding, Danny’s smart. There’s no way he could have salvaged that. This was not how he thought the night was going to go.

“Cranberry, is that you?” Danny twists in his chair, somehow delighted to see Red Hood rescuing him, too. “I thought I smelled you lurking about!”

“Shut it, you little shit. Since when were you dating this dweeb?”

“I’m sorry,” Red Robin pleads, hands in the air to try and slow down the onslaught of information and insults, “you two know each other?”

“Cranberry?” Nightwing echoes, looking as lost as Red Robin feels.

“Yeah, Cranberry—The Cranberries—zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie. Obviously. Also he’s wearing a big, fuck off red helmet.”

“Yeah, sure, makes sense.”

It’s about the only thing that does.

“And please don’t call my boyfriend a dweeb, Cranberry. Especially when he just said he loves me for the first time.”

“He only said it because he thought you were dead.”

“I am dead, so it counts.”

“Only half, so I’d say that puts you at a solid ‘like’. Tim’s—and savour this, Tim, because I’m only going to say it once—Tim’s intelligent, so I’m sure he’ll come to his senses soon.”

Danny just throws Red Hood such a shit-eating grin. A level of feral that Tim’s only seen before in Damian.

“That’s what I used to say about Jazz, too.”

Hood scoffs in offence, and to be honest, Tim’s not sure where he should go from here. What the hell is happening, how do they know each other?

“Come on, is anyone going to untie me or am I really meeting your family mafia-style?”

“Do it yourself, Slimer.” Red Hood laughs, crossing his arms.

“Ugh, you suck so much. I’ll fucking slime you, just you wait. Can’t believe Jazz even likes you, I preferred it when she was dating Johnny.”

And then, without Danny doing anything other than muttering obscenities at Red Hood, the ropes fall to the ground. In one swift motion, Danny stands up and stretches himself to his full height of 5’6.

“All of you need to explain, now.” commands Batman, and honestly, Red Robin’s very much on his side of it.

“I can’t believe it… Jason and Timmy are both in secret relationships? That’s… How come no one told me?” Poor Nightwing sounds the most shocked out of all of them. He turns to Damian and clasps onto both of his shoulders. “You’re not secretly dating, are you, D? Please tell me you’re not, please tell me you’re single, please?”

Of course, Robin just clicks his tongue and pushes his hands away. Really, Red Robin doesn’t think that Nightwing’s in any danger of that happening, he’d be surprised if anyone could stand Robin enough to actually date him.

He shakes his head and turns to Danny, who’s staring right back at him, worry clear on his face.

Fuck, he... He's alive. He's really alive.

Tim pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, fingers buried deep in his NASA shirt. Tucking his face into the crook of Danny's shoulder, he laughs wetly with the joy of it. He's alive. He hasn't lost him. He's safe.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you before now, starshine, but…” Danny breaks the hug and softly pulls away from him to rise on his tiptoes to place a kiss his cheek. The skin burns cold where his lips touch. “I love you, too. Also, you’re gonna wanna sit down. This is going to be a lot.”

#dpxdc #dead tired #anger management #(barely but it's there haha)#dcxdp #hailsatanacrab🦀🦀writes #i'm sorry this has taken a while but also this week has kinda sucked and i'm still pissed off about that #so writing has been a nice little break from that!!!!#i hope you enjoy it!! i'm not fantastic with writing romance/ships so like... hope it's alright haha #also i feel kinda bad about not putting the whole phantom reveal too but like... we get that all that time haha #idk maybe i'll continue it #OH SHIT I FORGOT MY WRITING TAG HOLD ON #must admit - i do like that you can edit the tags now even though the new post maker sucks #anyway!!!!!!! i had this whole bit from danny's pov in the beginning where he just decided to go to sleep but realised that fucking sucked #it was so boring haha #so we got this instead!#hope the emotions came across - i feel like i have a tendency to just go cold and clinical when emotions happen #idk #oh! danny and tim met because danny's a part time barista and when tim ordered his monstrocity of a drink danny just winked and said #'ah the walking dead special coming right up!' and added another three espresso #jason and jazz met before they did though - and none of them knew they were dating the other's family #danny and jason have a bit of a rocky relationship - he's not good enough for jazz!! she deserves way better than some two-bit gangster!!#jason just thinks he's a cute overprotective brother - he really envies their relationship and wishes he could have something like that #he likes to rib danny and tbh danny is really warming up to him too - now that the gross stinky ecto is starting to filter out #(which is thanks to him and jazz - which jason does know about and is extremely grateful for)#(he really does love jazz and is a little bit jealous that tim told danny he loved him first)#(jason goes home that night and dips jazz into a kiss and whispers it into her skin over and over again)#(he loves her he loves her he loves her - and who the fuck is johnny?)#once tim gets over his shock he's doing good! of course he accepts danny there was never any question of that #he meets ellie and then introduces her to kon and the rest of the team and ellie decides she might like to do some superheroing for a bit

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undeadcannibal · 9 months

Note

Hi! i was wondering if you could make any imagines or headcanons about a plus size reader with 141 + konig? Like if their SO is struggling with their body image. SFW

I loved your imagines btw!<3

Summary: How the 141 men and König would help comfort their plus size S/O who struggles with self-image issues.

Genre: Headcanons, request(s) Characters featured: Price, Gaz, Soap, Ghost, and König

Warnings: Mention(s) of struggling with self-image, etc.

A/N: Thank you, Anon! I’m glad you enjoy my works! Also, no worries, as a fellow plus-size/fat girl, I gotchu~ ( Gif credit: xxx )

Ghost―

Simon understands struggling with self-image issues more than he'll ever admit or show. While he doesn't say anything or show clues around anyone, he secretly despises seeing himself in the mirror. He goes out of his way to avoid looking directly at them, so, when you mention struggling with your own self-image, he understands in his own way.

Sure, he might not struggle with weight issues like you, but he doesn't care. He wants to be there for you so you don't have to go through those issues alone. He hates the thought of you struggling by yourself.

At first, he didn't offer many comforting words. He tries to be there for you physically instead. Before you can make a negative comment about yourself and your body, Simon is beating you to the punch, complimenting you instead of putting you down by distracting you.

His touches will always be appreciative and gentle so he doesn't accidentally trigger a negative reaction.

If that doesn't work, he's reassuring you that he loves your body just as much as your personality. Especially since he's never fussed over what his partners look like. He'll love and care for you anyway.

Without saying a word, he'll take your hand or pull you into his lap so he can nuzzle the top of your head. Whispering how much he adores you and how he wouldn't change a thing.

If it really bothers you, he'll be open to asking if you'd like to exercise with him. Starting off simple like walks together or him creating beginner friendly exercise routines, should you want them.

If not, he'll be there with you every step of the way, trying to help you feel better in your own skin, as well as maybe loving your body in time.

Price―

Poor Price, he's just as upset as you are seeing you struggling with your self-image so much.

He'll try to do anything to cheer you up. And of course, that always begins with a fresh cuppa with him. He won't even let you make it, he insists he'll take care of it for you.

Hell, he'll do anything you'd ask him to do so long as it helps you feel a bit better.

You wanna go out? He'll treat you to wherever - and whatever - you'd like. You wanna stay home? He'll get you extra comfortable and settled on the couch, not letting you leave as he gets you anything you ask for.

Doesn't even matter if you ask for something that y'all don't have. He'll run out to the store and be back home within no time, catering to you some more.

If that doesn't work - or you simply prefer another method of care - he'll ask what works best for you.

If you'd rather stay home and just cuddle and receive praise, he's more than happy to shower you in comfort and sweet nothings for as long as you'd like.

After he knows you're struggling, he'll go out of his way to touch and compliment every bit of you. Doesn't matter if you reply back with something negative, he does his best to help you see yourself the same way he sees you: beautiful, regardless of what you look like and how you feel.

Soap―

At first, Soap struggles to understand why you'd struggle so much. He'd think his love and adoration would be enough to convince you otherwise, but then he thinks back to the moments of him struggling with his own insecurities.

Sometimes it never mattered what others said or how true it was, a person could feel and think otherwise.

After mentally berating himself for being a bit of a bastard, he's finally coming around to you. Approaching you with gentle words and touches.

Never makes a comment on your weight or appearance if he can help it. Instead, he tries to let you know regardless of how you might feel in the moment, he loves you and will be there to support you no matter what.

Loves to distract you with jokes or something spontaneous to do together.

If that doesn't work, he'll try gently coaxing you to get out and do something together. It doesn't have to be somewhere public and crowded. He's more than happy to go for a walk together in the most random of places.

Really, he'll do anything if it means getting to see you happy and smiling again. Poor man will go wild if he knows you're feeling awful and there's little he can do to help you. Makes him feel pretty worthless as a partner but doesn't take it personally since he knows you're not doing it to spite him.

Gaz―

When you first tell him that you're struggling, he takes it hard at first. Sad to hear that you feel so awful about your self-image and he didn't pick up on it sooner.

However, once he gets over the initial shock, he'll immediately try to research ways to help you feel better and often soft-launches/suggests methods to you. Asking what you'd think might work best for you.

Whatever you prefer, he's trying without a second thought.

If that doesn't work, onto the next method!

He's determined to help you feel good. To see you being so hard on yourself hurts him in a way he can't explain.

I personally headcanon his love language is physical touch, so rest assured Kyle is physically appreciative of your body more so than usual. Nearly to the point he can't take his hands off of you.

If you need some space though, he'll happily provide that as well.

Also, don't even think of trying to say something negative about yourself when you're around. He'll argue you're the best and most breathtaking person in his life, regardless of what you think about yourself.

With that being said, he'll also go out of his way to interact with and kiss the parts of you you say you don't like the most. He'll make you love yourself and those parts of you, damn it!

König―

IMO, he understands more than anyone what it's like to struggle with one's self image. He's guilty of struggling with his own more often than not.

As a result, if you mention you're struggling more than usual, he's quick to try and distract you with activities you both enjoy, hoping to help take your mind off of things.

If you're not in the mood to head out, he's asking what you'd like to do at home instead. Whether it be watching something you enjoy or haven't seen. Or, possibly even ask if you'd like to cuddle on the couch together and browse for something nice on your laptop. This man loves to spoil you, even more so when you're not feeling well about yourself.

If you'd rather just spend some time together, that's fine. Rest assured he's hauling you into his lap so he can shower you in verbal praise and physical affection.

Also, he'll ask if you're alright with him touching you during those moments. If you allow him to, he's cuddling you till you can't take it anymore. Hugging you so tightly, murmuring what he finds beautiful about your plush, chubby form.

It doesn't matter what negative thing you say about yourself, he's stubborn enough to combat your negative thoughts with you.

"God, do I really look like that?" You'd complain whilst looking at yourself in the mirror, frowning as you poked and prodded at the soft pudge here and there.

König would simply come up behind you, looking down at you with nothing but affection in his eyes as he nods.

"No," He chimes in. "You look as breathtaking as ever, maus."

#call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #john price x reader #konig x reader #cod headcanons #headcanons #requests #anonymous #my writing

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years

Text

Yandere Priest x GN! Reader

Another part to my yandere supernatural harem. Masterlist here

Story has some Christian themes, but is not completely based from them

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: light body horror, character injury, briefly mentioned non consensual kiss, religious themes

Biting. Clawing. Tearing. The only thing he could remember. Talons piercing his skin, teeth on the vital arteries beneath – bursting under each individual fang. A robbery gone wrong had led this man to a fate crueler than death; a vicious beast spawned right before his eyes with a single mission in its mind, to make him feel absolute anguish. Lying on the cold earth. No one to comfort him in his final moments, unlike the person he’d harmed. Light fading-

He wakes up. The room is cold, he’s cold. He holds himself, memories flooding back to conscious mind. It felt better than where he had been moments before – anything did. He looked around the room. It looked empty, but something was there. He could feel it.

“Good evening.”

He turns. Someone stares from the shadows of the room. Bandaged hands clasp tightly over their lap, one looser than the other.

“W..who the fuck are you?”

“No need for that kind of language. I’m just here to ask a few questions. You know, when you died they said it looked like a bear had mauled you, but there isn’t any place where one could’ve come from for miles.”

He swallowed.

“But I’m not here for that. I want to know more about a friend of yours.”

A tall figure looms over you, hand gripping the blankets wrapped snugly around your body. The presence was suffocating; like said hand was slowly reaching for your neck. It instead hooks onto your blankets and tears them from your arms in one swift move.

“Good morning, Y/n!”

You groan, sitting up to meet the blank, yet bright eyed angel by your bedside. The enormous smile on his face pulls even further; meaning you had yet to rid the sleep from your eyes.

“Isn’t it like… 9:00am.”

He chuckles. “No, eight actually. Did you forget our plans for the day?”

You groan louder. A grim reaper, demon, and your very own guardian angel. Pains in your side for the majority of their stay, who’s thorns you were finally getting used to. With the couple rules you had in place already, another few had been added to the pile; namely in the comfort of your fellow housemates. One day of every weekend, each one of them would get a day without you; with the final weekend of the month being for yourself – which went about as well as one could imagine. The reaper and demon had already had their turn for the month, and so now it was the angel’s turn.

The thought had been brewing in Alasdair’s mind for a while. He had heard, and even read, of the various religions on earth; but knew little beyond average knowledge. During his time in heaven, he carried little about the human realm, until he met you; developing an interest in the cultures to benefit you both. For his day with you, he asked if you would join him in visiting a church; which you reluctantly agreed to. It was more toned down than racing shopping carts through grocery store aisles and had more to it than just relaxing on the couch – not that you really had a problem with either.

“Come on, we’ll be late if you don’t get up.” Alasdair pulls the blankets further from your grasp and helps you up. You shower and put on your Sunday best; him already ready to head out. With a formal suit and tie being eighty percent of his wardrobe, you didn’t expect him to have to do much to prepare anyway. You say your goodbyes to the other two and head out.

The building was an elegant structure. Faded white bricks made up its walls; a tall tower stuck to the hip of the main building – a silver cross upon its peak and along the edges of the center place. Tinted glass surrounded each window; a large circulator panel over tall, oak wood doors standing out above the otherwise rectangular glass. The twin doors stand propped open for the day’s service; faint light at the end of the altar glowing ominously – like distant flames of a furnace. The smell of herbs and burning candle wax hit strong as you enter; both you and Alasdair sitting in pews at the very back of the church.

The interior was even more marvelous. Cream colored walls basked in a warm light from lanterns;

Moments after you settle down, a man walks up to the podium before the altar. Specs of grey salts his shoulder length, champagne hair colored; a single green eye visible through the unkempt mane – smiling cordially at the crowd below. Bandaged poke from the collar of his black robes to the sleeves; small scars dawning his pale knuckles. He places his hand on the surface of the podium, surveying the room with a quick sweep as the kind smile from his eye spreads to his lips. In the very last second his gaze washed over the room, you could have sworn he took a double glance at you.

“Friends, family, newcomers. We thank you all for joining us on another glorious day that the lord has given us. Let us join in faith and allow him to guide us in his glory to a brighter light.”

After the morning prayer, he begins to read off scripture verse from the Bible. Alasdair seems completely encapsulated in the words of the priest, but you couldn’t shake the familiar feeling of being watched.

“Blessed are those who trust in the Lord and have made the Lord their home and confidence.”

Once service ends, you and Alasdair prepare to leave. If you hurried, there was time to get a bit more reset before the next activity of the day. Before you could make it to the exit, footsteps click to a halt on the checkered floor behind you.

“Good day.”

You turn. The priest stands before you, arms tucked behind his back with a grin plastered to his face. It felt – different from the one he gave before. More genuine than before, yet eerie at the same time.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you two before. It’s always nice to have young new faces.”

Alasdair extends a hand, and a friendly smile. “Alasdair, and this is Y/n.”

Basically ignoring Alasdair, the priest turns his focus to you, offering his palm to you instead. “Father Aiken. It’s a pleasure.”

You hesitantly shake it. His grip is firm; the gesture lasting a few seconds longer than needed. He stares you down, calloused fingers deep in your palm – the pulse beneath almost palpable. He lets go and returns his hand to its original position.

“Our doors are always open. Come by anytime.” He nods in Alasdair’s general direction before heading off. You decide to leave without questioning it any further.

On the way home, you strike up a conversation with Alasdair.

“So.. what did you think?”

“It was.. an interest. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it before, but before we met I paid little attention to your kind. It’s quite the experience to hear more about your beliefs in our creator.” He furrowed his brows. “But that man seemed.. off.”

“What do you mean?”

“Every being gives off some kind of aura, even us angels. They could be factors in your race, or measures of your moral code like with you humans. Aiken didn’t have one at all. The only other time I’ve seen this is with…” He shakes his head.” ah, it’s probably nothing to worry about. Did you have a good time, Y/n?”

“It was alright… Would you go again?”

“I’m honestly not sure."

Days go by and you pretty much push the encounter to the back of your mind. You head out with Baron one day to pick up a couple things from the grocery store; the demon fortunately in human form as he rushed through the isles like a bat out of hell. With him off on his own, you venture elsewhere to find your personal wares. As you search the many shelves, a familiar voice calls from over your shoulder.

“Y/n?”

Looking back, you see Father Aiken; dressed in a casual outfit of a sweater and pants – shopping basket in one hand. It was easier to see the cloth wrapped around his body in the looser clothing; discolored poking from their length. He places his hand over his chest as he lets out a soft gasp.

“Ah, I thought it was you, my dear. How are you on this fine afternoon?”

“Not bad. How about you, Father?”

“Oh please, call me Jeremiah. No need for formalities. I didn’t see you at our last service. I don’t mean to pry, but will you ever return?”

You crack a nervous smile. “Sorry… I’ve just been busy with.. things-"

He frowns a bit. “Ah well, that's unfortunate. Excuse me.”

Jeremiah goes to grab something from the shelf beside your head, only for it to slip from his grasp and class to the ground. Being closer, you kneel to pick it up; yet he does the same. His hand glides over yours, but instead of pulling back he grabs it. You attempt to worm free, but he strokes the back of your palm as he squeezes your hand.

“I knew it… You’ve been through so much haven’t you, Y/n?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have troubles. Ones you can’t talk about with others. Haunted by foolish mistakes.”

You clench your jaw; looking towards the ground – his smile grows.

“Please stop by this weekend. We’re having a baptism, and I’d love to get to speak with you more.

He lets you go, standing up right as Baron turns the corner with the shopping cart. The two share a passing glance, but Jeremiah leaves. Baron rushes over to you.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good…”

You get dressed for the service before either of your bedmates wake up – or so you thought. As you leave the bathroom, Alasdair stands near the doorway waiting.

“Are you heading somewhere, Y/n?”

“Nowhere specific. Just heading out.” You reply, avoiding eye contact.

“Would you like me to come with you?”

“I’m fine on my own.”

“Are you sure-"

“Yes.” As comfortable as you were getting with them around, there were always times you felt suffocated by their constant attention – maybe that’s why you were going where you were now. Alasdair drops the subject, a thin frown on his face. You squeeze past him and exit the room. He looks over at Baron who had been woken by fuss.

“It looks like I’ll be heading out too.”

The service goes on without a hitch. At its end, Jeremiah calls forth a young male sitting in the front row. The pair stand before a small fountain, the waters within giving of a golden light; though hard to tell whether it was from the lights above or the bowl. The man kneels, Jeremiah dipping his palm into the cool waters. He swipes his hand over the man’s forehead as he speaks.

“Today we acknowledge the death of your old self and the professions of faith. You have been raised to a new life along the path of your worship, and in the name of the Holy Lord I now baptize you.”

He brings his finger down in the opposite direction, helping the man to his feet afterwards. The service lets out soon after that and he walks to you, sitting beside you as the final person leaves. He gently places his hand on your leg.

“You came. I’m glad.”

“What did you mean.. back at the store?”

He exhales. “You are a very special person, Y/n. I could see that even during our first meeting, and I can also see what’s been shackled to you for many months. Powerful entities that barely leave you with a breath to spare. Am I wrong?”

You sigh. “Not completely.”

“It seems you’ve grown attached to them as well, and that’s understandable, but the best course of action might be to let it all go.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Give yourself over to faith, Y/n. By my hand, and the lord’s, we can help you find eternal peace. You can live without a single worry.”

You look away. Sure, the group was a pain, but they had grown on you – just like he said. The times of you wanting to get completely rid of them were in the past, but sometimes they still came into question. The multiple times you escaped near death had worn you down. Many things had. Everything he had said sounded ridiculous, but so much of your life up to this point had been as well.

“I don’t know about that.”

Jeremiah smiles warmly. “It’s alright, my dear. We all need time before tough choices. I’ll expect you next week.”

Alasdair watches you from behind a pillar, heart sunken at the defeat in your eyes. He eases past and to a door at the end of the hall – Jeremiah's office. It’s what you’d typically expect to see in such a place. A fan in one corner, calendar and various religious tapestries along the walls – desk in the center of the room. He goes over to it, searching the drawers for any information. The first few are empty, yet the final catches his eye. It has a lock; broken like wet tissue paper with enough force. At first all he sees is papers that seem unimportant at first, until he stumbles across a photo. One of you.

There’s more beneath. Ones of you at work; on the way home – inside your house. Dates written in red ink are printed on the back. He looks over the papers once more. Upon second glance; he realizes they ate schedules of your habits – likely looking for the right moment you’d be alone. As if it couldn’t get worse,, the final item in the drawer chills him to the core. It was a bone. The wing bone of a bird.

You return home hours later. It was actually nice to take to another human for a little while. Your conversation derailed from your problems and to average questions about the day – like something friends would have. The second you unlock the door, hands grip your shoulders and pull you in like the talons of a hawk.

“Where. Were. You.”

Alasdair’s stare is unlike anything you’ve never seen. Unhinged, panicked. He holds onto your like you’d slip through the cracks if he let go. It almost hurt.

“I went to church. Is that a crime?”

“Stay away from that man. He’s not safe to be around.”

“He seems fine to me. Let go- that hurts!”

He immediately lets you go at the announcement of your discomfort, not realizing he had been unintentionally clamping down on your shoulder. The surface is red, throbbing. The anger and fear in him instantly turns into guilt.

“I.. I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just want to keep you safe. That’s what we all want.”

You bit your lip; bite back what you have to say. When was it your turn to get what you wanted? These people have forced their way into your life, and while you made your peace with it; you longed for a taste of your life before. The silence.

“Promise me that you won’t go back.”

“I promise…

“Look at me and say it.”

You stare him in the eyes. “I promise I won’t go back.”

You wake at the crack of dawn, far before anyone else. You had slept that night with Maddox to further throw off suspicion. They were nestled in the corner of the couch, practically swallowed by it to give you as much space as they could. He had a look of utter contentment on his face. He always did when you slept with him. You replace your body with one of the arm pillows and leave; unaware of the eyes from the shadows.

The sun barely peaks over the horizon as you make it to the church. You planned on just camping out, but find the doors to be unlocked as you test them to make sure. The building is even creepier in the early hours. An empty husk of it could be; pews empty except for the silent wind. You see a figure at the end of the walkway and take a few steps forward; taking note of how it was a few inches taller than Jeremiah as you neared, and wearing less baggy, more formal clothes.

“You lied to me, Y/n.”

Alasdair glares down at you, closing the distance. He doesn’t let you make your case; grabbing your wrist as he heads to the exit. “We’re leaving.”

“I just wanted to give him an answer.”

“He doesn’t deserve any of your time, forget him.”

“You don’t understand…”

He grabs your other wrist, forcing you to look at him as he halts in the middle of the aisle; fear and trepidation clear on his face. Something you’ve only seen once before. “No, Y/n, you don’t understand. That man has been watching you. He’s been killing ange-"

Halfway through his sentence, something pierces Alasdair’s chest. His eyes meet yours, golden blood dribbling over his lips. The item removes itself from the cavity; his body slumping backwards. His hands still hold onto you, lightly pushing you away – almost telling you to run instead of it being the force of his limbs growing slack. As he collapses to the floor, you see the cause of the damage – blood dancing along the thin fingers of a bandaged hand.

You had seen Alasdair get hurt before. You were cutting something, and dropped the knife. He grabbed it, blade first with his bare hand – not even a drop of blood falling from the wound. Just an empty void in his palm.

“It’s alright, Y/n. There’s nothing man-made that can hurt me.”

“A pest this one was. Most of his kind are. Ah well, this was bound to be his fate someday.”

Jeremiah brings his hand to his face, licking the blood from each individual finger. As if only noticing you once he finished the cruel act, he grins.

“Hello, my dear.”

You trembled; legs geared to flee, yet remained stiff as stone. He steps on Alasdair’s sprawled out hand as he walks towards you.

“I’m very happy to see you again, Y/n~”

You stare past him, at Alasdair’s body; the blood circling him like tar. “H…how?”

“Growing up God, my family was extremely religious , even in the toughest hour. I tried my hardest to follow behind, but even then I knew the truth. God abandoned us, Y/n.”

You look in his direction.

“Did he ever tell you that? It’s the first thing those like him say. Blindlessly following orders from something that hasn’t been heard from in years. Sounds familiar doesn’t it?”

He cocks his head to the side, farther than humanly possibly. “Do you know why?”

“It’s because he’s dead.”

The bandages around his neck and arms fall; like whatever lies beneath was too much to keep wrapped. The skin under is raw, fleshy; pinkish like the muscles beneath – bulging off his body like a virus. Eyes tear through the mesh; blink starred, half lidded. The “flesh” drips over his left arm, its length and combining his fingers into a singular mass. Through the strands of his hair, his other eye becomes visible. Eyes to paint a better picture. Another eye had squeezed itself into the socket; iris yellow in color and surrounded by small rings.

“And I’m his replacement.”

“A..are you saying that you…”

“Killed God? Heaven’s no, silly! I merely found his corpse and ate it. I suspect the lazy bastard died sometime after the creation of man.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re killing angels.”

“Not just angels. Anything that stands in my way. Humans are terribly flawed, Y/n. A majority of us worship a corpse for Christ’s sake! I’ll be what he failed to be. A Shepherd for humanity and bring it to its most prosperous hour. The light at the end of the tunnel. But none of that can be done, without you.”

He brings his hand up to your face, gently stroking your cheek. The limb is hot, almost unbearably so. He gives you the same warm smile he always had.

“I wasn’t lying when I said you were special, Y/n.. You’ve brought so many from beyond the veil to your doorstep when you’re what some would call an average person. I’ve been watching you, unsure what I should do with someone like you; but overtime I’ve come to see what those vermin have as well. You’re an extraordinary being with the will to go on after so much pain. What many have lost the will to do. You make me feel something I haven’t been in ages… human.”

He presses his lips to yours, locking you in a kiss with his hand to the back of your neck. Alasdair’s blood still clings to his bottom lip. He pulls away with a look of amazement.

“What a rush! Ah, I’ve missed feeling things like this. You’re the only one who can ground me to this reality, make sure I keep the one thing I lost so long ago. I was planning on taking you myself, but since you came on your own I knew our courtship was meant to be. You feel the same way… right?~”

You don’t say anything. No words come to mind. Everything feels numb. You still look past him, at the body on the ground below. The blood rushes to your head. You’re unable to feel his tremendous gaze; the scream that echoes through the church’s hall – how your body falls from his grasp and unto the arms of another.

Maddox carries you in their arms away from the building; Baron close by with Alasdair’s limp form over his shoulders. Jeremiah is nowhere to be seen. Time feels like it’s going by at a crawl. You hear the faint tick of a clock as Maddox's skeletal hands drag you away from the scene. He looks down at you, expression unreadable as he covers your eyes with his free palm.

Upon returning home, Baron carries Alasdair to the bedroom to tend to his wounds. “He’s still warm.” Is all he gave you. Maddox stays with you on the couch, holding your shaking hands; your head in the crook of his neck.

“He’ll be okay.” He tries, but you knew that neither of you knew if that was true. Though your memories were a haze after that final moment, you remember the last thing Jeremiah said to you.

“See you, soon…”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere story #yandere series #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere demon #yandere angel #yandere grim reaper #x reader #reader insert

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