#child who appears at their doorstep. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

confessedlyfannish · 7 months

Text

DP x DC Writing Prompt #5

Damian does not glance back at Bruce when he knocks on the door. Instead they both wait in silence.

After a moment, the door opens.

"Hello," Jasmine, Jazz, Fenton greets politely, unsurprised to find the Waynes on her doorstep. Damian's expression grows ever darker at this revelation.

"Hello Ms. Fenton, are your parents home?" Bruce asks, placing a firm hand on Damian's shoulder, to ground as much as to restrain. To his credit he does not shake it off.

"No, they're out of town for a conference," the eighteen year-old says, opening the door wider. "But I think you'd better come in."

Bruce would normally decline, but Ms. Fenton is a legal adult and he has already, even unknowingly, waited 16 years. Damian makes the choice for him, striding past the threshold.

"Please take a seat," Jazz says as she leads them to the living room. She ignores Damian's swinging head as he takes in the home. It is deceptively large, a 90s style house filled with modern furniture. The walls are bright, with purple and green accents that would normally feel garish but somehow work. The stairs leading to the second floor are lined with family photos that Bruce yearns to take a closer look at. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"

"No, that's alright, thank you," Bruce says, taking a seat on the long plush couch. A men's windbreaker lies haphazardly thrown across one of the arms. A closed container of Oreo cookies sit on the coffee table next to a physics textbook open to chapter 16, half covered in highlighter and filled with sticky notes. There's a child's painting framed next to the tv, a handprint made to look like a thanksgiving turkey in bright blue.

For the home of experimental scientists, it is cozy and well lived-in.

Damian repeatedly glances at the stairs through the doorway.

Bruce clears his throat. "We were hoping to--"

"I've texted--oh, I'm sorry," Jazz says, having spoken at the same time. Bruce gestures for her to go on.

"I've contacted Danny, he should be here soon. He was out with some friends." Jazz explains. As she hadn't pulled out a phone in their presence, Bruce can only deduce they have some sort of camera at their front door. This also explains Ms. Fenton's complete lack of surprise at their appearance.

"So you know who we are." Damian says, the first words he's spoken since they arrived at the house and the longest sentence he's spoken since they arrived in Amity Park.

"I do," Jazz says, calm in the face of Damian's clearly simmering anger. Bruce trusts him not to attack Ms. Fenton, but he still watches him carefully.

"He told you about me," Damian says. It is the same question, but it is also not.

"He did," Jazz says.

Damian swallows. "I see," he grits out.

Jazz's neutrality slips and her face softens in sympathy. "Damian," she starts hesitantly, but before she can say anything else the front door opens.

A moment later Bruce's son walks through the doorway, and Damian is on him.

This is what Bruce hoped to prevent, but despite his numerous checks of Damian's luggage his son has still managed to smuggle a small dagger, which he now produces and swings in a calculated arc at Daniel Fenton's jugular.

Danny dodges cleanly, and dodges every swipe thereafter in a manner that speaks to continued practice long after his time at the League. Damian is a perfect product of his training, but it is up against Danny his flaws come to light. He is just as good as he always was, but Danny is better.

In a matter of seconds Damian grows frustrated and sloppy in his attacks, completely atypical for him. Danny takes Damian out at the knees and pins him down with one arm, pressing his face into the carpet.

"Calm down," he orders. His voice is deeper than Damian's at sixteen to his twelve, the accent that still traces Damian's words completely gone from his speech. Damian growls and thrusts his head back into Danny's face, meeting it with a sharp thunk. He rolls up as Danny recoils, putting distance between them. Danny glares at him from several steps away, hand to his forehead. Damian tosses the dagger into his other hand as he charges, and to Bruce's surprise Danny does nothing more than turn his face to the side, allowing Damian to draw a sharp line down his cheek.

Damian stops dead in his tracks.

"Are you done?" Danny asks, blood beginning to pool at the seam of the cut.

Damian's expression is stricken, eyes stuck on the blood starting to drip down his brother's face.

"I said, are you done, Damian?" Danny asks. His voice is cold.

Damian hears him this time, and he flushes red. "I--you--"

Danny sighs. He looks at Jazz, whose expression is back to carefully controlled.

"Are you alright?" he asks her. She nods.

"You left me," Damian accuses, standing there holding his bloody dagger limply.

Danny turns back to him, raising an eyebrow.

"You left me," Damian repeats louder, rapidly blinking.

"Yes. I did." Danny provides no excuse nor any explanation. His stance is unyielding.

Damian's eyes bounce wildly, shifting to Jazz and Danny slides smoothly in front of her, protectively. He looks at Damian warily, not as if he is his brother, but as if he is a danger. Damian flinches.

Hope is the last to die, Bruce thinks, watching as that last bit of hope Damian had is extinguished, the knowledge working its way through every inch of his body like ice in his veins. His eyes darken. He turns and runs from the room, the front door slamming shut not a moment later.

Jazz stands up, pulling a few tissues from the box on the coffee table. She presses them to Danny's face, cupping his cheek until he holds it himself. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit," she says gently. It is a thinly veiled excuse to leave them alone, and Bruce is grateful for it as she heads for the stairs.

They both wait until her footsteps have faded, taking each other in. Bruce looks at his mother's eyes and the sharp turn of Talia's nose. Damian's everything, four years older.

"You shouldn't have come here," Danny says, throwing himself on the armchair Jazz has just vacated.

"You know who I am," Bruce says carefully.

Danny glares. "I've kept your secret. She nor my parents know."

"I know," Bruce says. "That's not what I meant. You know who I am. And who I pretend to be. So you know I am familiar with masks."

"And?" Danny asks, looking vaguely bored.

"And so I can recognize when someone is wearing one. Damian will too, once he's calmed down."

Danny's expression sharpens. "No, he won't. Because you are going to go to back to whatever bed and breakfast you're staying in, pack up, hop in your private jet and fly him back to Gotham immediately before the League realizes you've gone. If they haven't already," he mutters.

"This is about the League then," Bruce says. "Do you not believe I can protect you?"

"I don't need your protection," Danny snaps, and watches Bruce actively extrapolate with a dawning resignation. "So this is the World's Greatest Detective at work," he says, slumping bonelessly into his chair, the first teenager-y thing he's done.

"Damian's in danger from the League," Bruce says. Danny glares from his slump. It's almost cute. "And as long as the League doesn't know about you, he's safe."

"Draw your own conclusions," Danny says, baring his teeth. Damian often makes the same face. "As long as you leave."

"I can protect him. I can protect you both," Bruce says. "Let me help you."

Danny closes his eyes. He centers his breathing in an exercise someone has clearly walked him through in the past. Bruce would bet money on the adoptive sister waiting patiently upstairs.

"Mr. Wayne. You are not my father," he says. "My trust in you extends to the point that I left Damian in your care, but that is where it ends. And that was when it was sanctioned by the League. By coming here you have endangered those sanctions."

Bruce disregards the sting, doubling down on his analysis. Talia had left Damian with Bruce well after Danny had left the League. But Danny speaks as if the decision had been his.

Or perhaps, Bruce realizes, it is not that Danny decided upon it, but that Danny allowed it to continue.

Bruce takes a second to review what Oracle had gone over with him before they left for Amity. Daniel Fenton had by all accounts, since leaving the League, lived a fairly normal life. His adoptive parents were eccentric scientists dabbling in the occult but their findings that bordered pseudoscience circulated a very niche community of like-minded eccentrics. The bulk of their income came from alternative energy, a more viable source of study that they'd veered harder into in the past year or so, a government contract with the EPA currently in the works. This had in part funded a vacation to an all-inclusive resort the family had taken that past summer.

Danny received average grades in school, above average in science and mathematics, declining sharply in his freshman year and sophomore year before evening out around the second semester. He had gotten into fights repeatedly with one student in particular, suspended for two weeks following an incident that resulted in a the student receiving a black eye. Teachers reported him to be highly intelligent but distracted and removed. They had recommended he be evaluated for an attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. He had no social media. He had missed multiple picture days. The ones he had attended he was sneezing, or a blur of movement, even going so far as to fall off his stool, legs flailing. Bruce had drank up every last one as Barbara had waited patiently.

A normal life. A family vacation to Bermuda. Average grades.

His freshman year, distracted and removed. The same year Damian had arrived at Bruce's home. Masks upon masks.

"You have informants within the League," Bruce says. Danny, to his credit, has no discernible tell. But there is no other explanation. "What will you do, if they find out you are alive?"

"That is none of your concern," Danny says, but he might as well be saying whatever I have to.

He never stopped practicing, after all.

"If they go after Damian, it is my concern."

"And that is why you need to take Damian back to Gotham before they do." Danny says. "I will take care of it."

Damian had barely spoken since he had realized Danyal was alive. But Bruce had seen the reverence in his eyes as he looked at the file.

"الوريث الصحيح" he had murmured. The rightful heir.

"You are proposing going after the entirety of the League with no backup," Bruce says. "Even if you think they won't kill you, you won't win either."

"Maybe they will," Danny says lightly. "Kill me. That would also work."

Bruce inhales sharply. "Danny," he starts.

"Go home, Mr. Wayne," Danny says, pushing himself up with one hand. The other still clutches the wad of tissue to his cheek, partially soaked with blood. "Go take care of your son."

"I'll go," Bruce says, "I'll take him to the Watchtower. And then I'll come back."

"Mr. Wayne-"

"I should've come for you," Bruce interrupts. "Sixteen years ago. I should've come for you."

Danny's brow furrows. "You had no idea I existed."

"But if I had. I would've come. I never would've left you there. And now that I know, I am not leaving you now."

For the first time Bruce watches Danny be completely caught off guard. He openly gapes at Bruce.

"You would've died," Danny lands on, voice thin. "They would've killed you."

"Unlike you, I would've brought backup." Bruce says, mimicking Danny's lightness.

He's lying. Sixteen years ago he would've thrown himself at the League to save his newborn son without a plan, without a thought beyond rescuing his baby.

Danny barks out a laugh. "You would've laid siege to Nanda Parbat with The Big Blue Boy Scout?" he looks wistful. "That would've been rad."

Bruce sees his opening. "Danny," he stands, eye to eye with his son. "Let me help you."

Danny evaluates him. "The Batman," he says softly. "I didn't want you to come, then. I didn't need one more person I had to prove myself to. All I wanted was to live amongst the stars, in the quiet of the cosmos."

"You want to be an astronaut," Bruce says. At Danny's cocked head, he says without shame, "I read your essay on personal heroes. You wrote about Edward White. Ad Astra Per Aspera."

Danny smiles slightly, sadly. "It is a rough road."

"You can be whatever you want to be," Bruce says. "I won't stand in your way."

"Even if I want to be Danny Fenton?" he asks.

"Even then."

Danny sighs. "I don't need your help Bruce," he says. "No," he says as Bruce opens his mouth. He pulls the wad of tissues away from his cheek. Underneath the splotches of dried blood the gash in his face has cleanly knit itself together, a faint white line now all that remains.

"I don't need your help," he says clearly. He holds a palm forward, and a green fire grows from its center, until the flames are licking delicately up his fingers.

"I know The Batman does not kill. But I am not a Robin. I am something else entirely," Danny says, his eyes reflecting the green of the flames. Or not, as he looks up at Bruce, his eyes green all on their own. They are sad. This is why he stayed away, Bruce realizes. Not out of fear. Danny is not afraid. Danny is tired.

But for his brother, Danny will wake up.

"And If the League takes one step towards Damian, I will raze them to the ground."

#Danny I AM RETIRED FROM MURDER Fenton #the informants are ghosts #the thing about deductive reasoning is sometimes you deduct incorrectly #particularly when you don't know about the ghosts #danyal al ghul #damian wayne #danny phantom #batman #dp x dc au #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #bruce wayne #this is an au where damian doesn't get blown up and lose most of his vital organs #like bruce still isn't a super responsible parent but no nine year olds blow up so that's something #danny: he only blew up once so he can stay with you #batman: he did get speared straight through but we fixed it #danny: he wHAT #i wrote this instead of eating dinner #because drafts are for the mentally healthy #tbh i don't think his name would be danyal al ghul in this one #he's trying really hard to stay under the radar I don't think he would choose essentially a homonym

4K notes · View notes

theodore-sallis · 1 year

Text

“A Question of Survival!” Fear (Vol. 1/1970), #18.

Writer: Steve Gerber; Penciler: Val Mayerik; Inker: Sal Trapani; Colorist: Linda Lessmann; Letterer: Artie Simek

#Marvel #Marvel comics #Marvel 616 #Fear #Man-Thing #I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the creators decided to tackle the US’ seeming increasing disregard for human life #during this time period seeing as such a great deal of Man-Thing comics are about ‘what makes a man???’#and the nature of humanity #but it’s interesting to see nonetheless #spanning everything from the various ethical questions surrounding the Vietnam War #and the post-60’s burnout of activists #(it doesn’t escape my notice that Holden Crane might very well be named after Holden Caulfield aka the pop culture poster child #for apathetic youth)#oh and those who to turn to substance abuse as well #One thing though is that despite the seeming attempts to criticize all sides #the sergeant gets some brief muddy moments to appear somewhat heroic while Holden gets a literal snake dropped at his feet aldhsj #I don’t know if that was supposed to be metaphorical (kind of like dropping a rat on someone’s doorstep) but if it is #it just struck me as unusual seeing as how anti-military industrial complex most Man-Thing comics have been #or is this their way of insinuating they’re anti-military industry but not necessarily anti-military personnel???#Seeing as our hero Ted is supposed to be military personnel (if tangentially/auxiliary) as well after all???#oh and how could I forget amidst all of this philosophizing we have Ted banging a python against a tree so there’s that hahaha

0 notes

a-small-safe-place · 5 months

Text

Then, Nothing.

Yandere Cullen family

A/N: Renesmee is a platonic yandere. The rest of the Cullens are romantic yanderes for you, but it is mostly centered on Bella and Edward right now.

You met Renesmee in a park. You were babysitting a child for a family, and she happened to approach you. This child looked too grown to be the age she said but also looked too young to be anything older, and something about her was off-putting in an uncanny valley way. However, something compelled you to engage with her. She said she did not want to play with any of the other children. Renesmee said they were too ingenuous. That seemed like too big of a word for such a little girl. She talked your ear off, though. She said she does not "talk" much at home, and that it is easier just to be not verbal. That worried you; was this child being abused and forced to stay silent at home? Who even were her parents?

As if on cue, a very beautiful man and woman approached. They looked too young to be the girl’s parents, but also too similar to her to not be her parents. They were also more inhuman in appearance than Renesemee. The mom, Bella, was more welcoming than Renesmee’s father, Edward, who chose to remain standoffish.

Bella smiled and told you, “Renesmee doesn’t usually talk to people besides her family; you must be special.” Her tone sounded as if she had been flirting with you. You chose to ignore it. Maybe just because she was so inhumanly beautiful made it seem like she was flirting. “I don’t know about how special I am, but your daughter is certainly unique; she seems so bright for her age.”

Edward finally spoke up, but in a flat and uninterested tone, “she is; we are very proud.” An awkward silence settled over the area. Thankfully, the child you had been babysitting came up ready to go home.

You began to see them more and more around town. It seemed as if Renesmee could sniff you out in a second if she happened to be in the same area as you. You were relieved that you did not live in the area and lived in a part of town that was in a much lower tax bracket. If you did live in the area, it would not be surprising if Bella, Renesemee, or even Edward showed up at your doorstep. Edward was the most normal out of the three. Bella’s behavior was nice, but something about it felt awkward with a sinister undertone. If she looked different, it would seem more sincere, but something about all three of them made you want to run away as fast as you could despite their beauty. A driver for the family that you babysat for had seen them when picking up you and the child and joked that Bella and Edward were probably related given that they looked similar. He loved to gossip and asked you a million questions about them. You shuddered at the idea. That could explain why their daughter was so peculiar, but wouldn’t incest result in more physical deformities and not just strange behavior from a child? Even if they were related, they did not seem to be that close, definitely not siblings. Everything about them seemed the same but also different.

You tried your best not to think too much about it, but it got to the point where you would see at least one of them anytime you were out on that side of town. You were fine trying to avoid them; each time your excuse was along the lines of “oh they need this kiddo back home!” or some other similar response. That is until you ended up getting fired. The mom refused to say why, and she reacted in disgust when she saw you. Before this, both of the parents enjoyed having you as their sitter. It was a harsh dismissal. You decided to stop by the grocery store before going home. You needed something, anything, to make you feel better about your loss of work, and with the influence your last family had in the community, it was clear you would not be babysitting for a while. Or so you thought.

“Hello,” Edward’s voice sounded from behind you. He did not seem happy to be there. “Sorry,” You mumbled, scooting out of the way, assuming you were in front of something he needed. “I have a job for you,” He said cryptically. You turned around to face him feeling confused. Edward continued to talk. “It will pay well. I know you take care of children, and I wanted to take Bella somewhere on a date, and we do not have a sitter for Renesmee, and she has warmed up to you.”

“You want me to babysit?” You asked somewhat dumbly causing him to smile a bit and chuckle. “Yes, she has warmed up to you, and Bella thinks you are trustworthy. The only catch is that you have to care for her at our home. You may not leave when you are watching her, even if you have an emergency.” You weren't a fan of that stipulation, but you figured they would allow you to call them to come back in a dire situation.

“Okay, fine. When do I need to be there, and is this going to be a regular thing?” You asked. He seemed a little irritated that you're asking these questions. “Tonight. You will start now. It will be a regular job. You can follow me out to our house.”

You arrived at his and Bella’s home. It looked like it was designed by the best architect. Renesmee greeted you outside. “You're here! We are going to have so much fun! Come one! Come meet my family.” As she is dragging you in, Edward is driving away. He did not even mention when they will be back or how much you were getting paid exactly. He was probably making sure you would not take the money and leave. There are people inside. Four people, two guys, and two girls sit on the couch and sofa. You hear a few people in the kitchen. “These are my aunts and uncles! That's Uncle Emmett and Aunt Rosalie; they are married, and then Aunt Alice and Uncle Jasper; they are married too. My Grandma Esme and Grandpa Carlisle are in the kitchen. Grandma wanted to make dinner for you… I mean us.” Two of them smile at you, the two dark-haired ones. The two blondes look mad and somewhat disgusted. This is weird. You have never babysat with people around. Why could the family not watch Renesmee? She seemed to like them just as much as you. Renesmee pulls you into the kitchen. Her grip is surprising for a little girl. A blonde man and a woman with caramel-colored hair are cooking. They look far too young to be a grandma and grandpa. Something about all of these people seems so familiar. As if you have seen them before. Not just on the rich side of town but on the poor side of town too, in your neighborhood. They both introduce themselves and clearly know your name as they greet you. “Are you hungry?” Esme asks, handing you a plate of food. It smells divine, but this has to be a trap. Most families prefer you not to eat a bunch on the job.

Renesmee grabs a plate and begins to eat. “It's so good! Grandma worked hard on it! You have to try it!” It is impossible to say no to her for some reason. You take a plate and take a few bites. It tastes wrong. There are hints of good flavor, but it is heavily covered up by the taste of medicine. The gravity of the situation hits you. “I need to excuse myself; I need a bathroom break.” The shakiness in your voice is clear. You pretend to go to the restroom, but book it to the door when you're out of sight. You see your keys are missing; even your phone has disappeared from your pocket. You step outside only to see your car missing. Suddenly you're grabbed from behind. This person is very strong but knows how to hold someone down without injuring them. You're stuck with a needle. Your life does not flash before your eyes, but each time you've seen these freaks in public flashes in your mind as your vision spins. A wave of calm lays over you. It is unwelcome because it feels unnatural, but it is too comforting for you to care as your vision goes in and out. You see some flashes of memories that do not belong to you. They are from a lower angle, so it has to be from Renesmee's mind. It is Carlisle assuring her that you are going to be safe because they all love you as much as she does.

Then, nothing. You're out like a light.

738 notes · View notes

abbyromanoff · 5 months

Note

For kinkmas can you do a Emily Prentiss who has a dick and get R pregnant, but abandons her for some angst, then Emily reconnects with her after a case and meets her kids and all.

YOU’RE BACK, BUT ITS TOO LATE

PAIRINGS: Emily Prentiss x reader

WORD COUNT: 1244

WARNINGS: smut, angst, pregnancy, abandonment, mommy (E), breeding, kids (yes they deserve a warning), arguments, Emily has a dick, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Emily’s breath panned against your face, her lips venturing to your neck in a hurry. She teased the skin with her teeth, causing shivers to run down your spine. She leaned back, smirking in glory as you grappled onto her biceps.

“You look so beautiful, baby.” She muttered, her thrusts slowing as she took a moment to admire you. Only when a whine left your lips did she continue, forcing your lip onto her own as you shared a lustful kiss.

“Please, Em,“ You gasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt liquid squirt into you. Her breath was shaggy, her voice trembling as she nodded with you.

“Mhm, going to make you a pretty little Mommy.” She chuckled, drawing long and hard hip movements, allowing you to feel her cock pulsing deep inside of you.

“I’m- I’m going to cum,” She placed each hand on either side of your head, her breasts moving with her body. You leaned forward, taking her sensitive nipple into your mouth. She moaned, tugging you closer by your hair as your legs shook.

“Cum for Mommy, sweetheart.” Your juices covered her cock as she painted your walls white, her grin wide as she admired the new ring on your finger. She had just proposed earlier that night while the stars shined bright against your skin, the ring shimmering as she placed it on your skin. She led it to her mouth, pressing a soft kiss against the material before returning her forehead to the pillows beneath you.

“I’ll never stop loving you, baby.”

“I told you I’d never stop loving you, Y/N.” The woman retorted, smiling through wet tears as she looked down on you, the ring still planted on your finger. It had been nearly a year yet you couldn’t get enough of her, no matter her actions. Only a few days after you found the sticks in the bathroom holding two lines was when she left. You weren’t able to inform her about the pregnancy, and the fact that she was going to be a mother soon.

It all happened so quickly, one moment you were the happiest you’d ever been, then the next you stood over her grave, tears racking out of you uncontrollably. You never expected her to return a year later in front of your doorstep, who would? But her hair had grown slightly, and you noticed the sore cheeks that proved her sadness wasn’t fake. She instantly fell into your arms, but you backed away, fearful of the recurring dream appearing once again. You were finally starting to heal, but now she was back, and you didn’t know what to do.

She heard the soft giggles of your child and froze, a smile threatening to take over her face as she noticed your Mother laughing at the child’s face. She had a hint of black hair on her head, even without seeing the rest of her features she could tell it was her replica.

“Emily, you can’t just barge in here after…after I believed you were dead for a whole fucking year!” You ran your fingers through your hair anxiously, steam nearly coming out of your nose and ears as she stood there; she looked so perfect. How could she stand there and look so perfect, she just tore your heart out only to rip it back out as you tried to fix it.

“I know, my love-“

“Please don’t call me that.” You begged, sniffling as she tried moving closer. Your Mother left after a screaming match was to be had between the two, both of them telling you to bring the baby girl to your room so she didn’t have to witness it. It wasn’t calm, and you were shocked you had zero neighboring complaints.

“Please, I- I didn’t mean to hurt you,”

“But you run off to fucking Paris while your pregnant wife stayed at home? Do you know how difficult those months were for me? Not only was I carrying a child, but I was dealing with the loss of the love of my fucking life! Only to find out she wasn’t even fucking dead!” She buried her head in guilt, and no matter how badly she wanted to look up and see you, she couldn’t bear to meet your tearful eyes.

“I didn’t know you were pregnant-“

“That doesn’t change shit, Emily! You left. You left me, and you left your daughter, you think I can just forget that?”

“No, I don’t expect you to. And, to be honest, I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to forgive me because I can’t even forgive myself and I never, ever will. All I want is to spend the night with you, okay? I- I want to see my daughter experience her first Christmas tomorrow morning, and I want to experience our first Christmas together again…please, I’m begging you, Y/N.” She stood, relief filling her as you allowed your fingers to interlace with hers. She looked so hopeless, you, once again, couldn’t resist her.

“Fine, but we’ll be talking about this tomorrow, don’t think I’ve even thought about forgiving you.”

You promised yourself it wouldn’t happen, that sharing a bed with her wouldn’t bring back tempting emotions, but it did the opposite. And that’s how you found yourself beneath her, your walls accepting her cock desperately, despite your previous restraints. You forced yourself to keep quiet, but it was nearly impossible as she continued to hit against your g-spot with every thrust.

“I’m so sorry, baby- fuck, I love you so much.” She reminded you, wrapping her arms around your body as she dragged you towards her. You were now riding her, your legs around her waist as your hands dug at her back, your breasts pressing against hers as they created a shared rhythm.

“We…we need to be quiet, Emilia i- is fuck! Fuck, she’s- she’s sleeping.” The name came from Emily, you remembered when she told you her dreams of passing her name down to her child, but she also didn’t enjoy her government name. She wanted her daughter to have a beautiful name to match them, and Emilia was what she came up with after years of pondering the thought. Children had always worried her, especially due to her career, but she wanted nothing more than a true, happy family - one she spent her entire trip dreaming of.

“I know, but I want to hear you. God, I- I’ve missed you so much, ‘m never leaving you two again.” Unlike the deeply sexual position you both shared, there was a sense of comfort in her words. She seemed to ease away your fears with only a promise, but you worried she’d break it once again. You couldn’t risk losing her, not again.

“Please don’t leave me, E-Em. I- ah! I need you so fucking bad.” She repositioned the two of you, letting you rest against the pillows as she took a moment to admire your body. It was scarred, your skin holding wounds of pain yet beauty. The stretch marks represented her child - her baby girl, and she couldn’t have loved them more. She kissed the ones in reach, smiling up at you before kissing your lips in a passionate, loving gesture. She waited for you to pull back, but you never did.

“I told you I’d never stop loving you, Y/N.” And she meant it, she meant every word.

#emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader smut #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #kinkmas

934 notes · View notes

zhongrin · 4 months

Text

𒆙 deus auri

part 4/8 of ⎡∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺⎦, a zhongli 2023 birthday event

𖧷 tags ┈ gn!reader, teeth-rotting fluff

𖧷 a/n ┈ merry christmas yall! i hope you're being surrounded by your loved ones today (be it physically or online). consider this a christmas gift from me to you <3

𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓊 ❬ masterlist ❭ 𐫱 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭

𝓃early everyone in your neighborhood knew of your secret admirer, yet no one knew of their actual identity.

they had their speculations, of course. the elders just love to tell you all about their theories whenever they spot you with yet another fresh yellow hibiscus on your person. perhaps it was the young man three houses away, since mrs. feng saw him stealing glances at you? oh, or maybe it was the lady who moved into the neighborhood a few months ago, since the timing matched with when you started receiving the flowers? no, no, it must have been the blacksmith’s child who was just the perfect age for marriage, or the widowed greengrocer who kept giving you discounts, or—

entertaining the musings of the older folks who had nothing better to do than gossip was not your specialty, so a forced laugh and an excuse later, you continued on your merry way, shaking your head with a breath escaping your lips as your fingers brushed the soft petal.

you used to keep the flowers in a vase or press them between book pages to dry them out, hoping to prolong their life, but these days you prefer to have it on you as you go about your day. sometimes you’d wear it on your hair, tucked behind your ear, or weaved around your wrist, and other times you’d slip it on your clothes, going as far as planning your attire around the bright yellow petals. and when the day ended, the bloom would have wilted, but you already knew that the next day, another fresh flower would appear right in front of your doorstep.

truly, a mystery.

as many moons passed, you became curiouser and curiouser. such dedication, such resourcefulness. just who was this silhouette in the dark you could not seem to shine a light upon? as silly as it sounded, you were slowly toeing the lines of curiosity and perhaps even affection, as stupid as that sounded.

there was a florist you would always pass by whenever you returned home from a day of toiling at work. a selection of flowers, though none matched the flower you tucked onto your belt loop for the day, lined the forefront of the little stall, its owner giving you a friendly smile as you approached.

you started placing marigolds on your doorstep before going to bed.

what made you choose the specific flower? you weren’t too sure yourself. perhaps the colors and rounded shape of its floral head that day reminded you of mora, and it was an attempt at darkly humoring the stranger who had been spending their mora to buy all those hibiscus blooms. perhaps you just found them pretty and silently hoped your secret admirer would, too.

the marigold always disappeared the next morning, replaced with your faithful, bright yellow-petaled friend.

the ritual continued on, and just as tireless as your admirer was, you made sure to be just as persevering. not a day passed without the exchange of blossoms - not when it rained, nor when the holidays rolled by.

“mama, look! it’s the adepti!!” a little girl raced past you, dragging her laughing mother by the hand, jumping and trying to seek past the crowd of people flooding the main street at the end of your little neighborhood. the ginkgo leaves were falling, maidenhair petals matching the bright color of the hibiscus pinned onto your hair billowing past as you too, stepped towards the crowd.

they did this parade every single year, both to celebrate the end of a prosperous twelve-month period and to honor the very birthday of the geo archon, and every single time you thought you would ever get bored of it. a magnificent procession along the main streets, a week-long festival before and after, the various stalls opening along the streets, the hustle and bustle of the harbor amplified, joyfulness and the trees seemingly painting the air gold.

“ah, the demon conqueror isn’t joining us this year?”

“he’s the elusive sort, after all.”

”but the great illuminated beasts are almost all here!”

it was hard to make out the words of the people around you as the crowd bustled in excitement and the processional march reverberated so loudly in your ears, so you decided to step and slip around the gaps of enamored people when you spotted your chance.

eventually, your eyes finally fell upon the group as they made their way through the stone paved path. the proud magnificent beasts were always a sight to behold; otherworldly and also imposing. golden and red, intricately sewn flags bearing the symbol of geo along with the harbor itself waved in the air as the sounds of the drums seemed to make the ground shake. the smell of incense filled your lungs, your eyes squinting as the sunlight caught the cor lapis ornaments affixed onto nearly every object and clothing of the congregation. and yet it was said that the celebration march used to be much grander, with dancers and flower petals and scriptures detailing the founding of liyue and the tales of the archon war being read out loud - but your lord himself insisted for it to be downplayed after several hundred years.

and speaking of the devil…

“may rex lapis live and reign for ten thousand years!”

“ten thousand years, ten thousand of ten thousand years!”

this year too, the deity sat upon the resplendent sedan chair carried by four mortals. this year too, he looked as regal in his dark garment patterned with glowing golden threads and - in your opinion - as bored out of his mind. this year too, a stem of-

-wait.

he didn’t have those last year.

marigold eyes glanced toward your direction, and you thought you had induced yourself into having a fever dream when your gazes met. but no, the way his amber eyes slightly widened and the way he suddenly shifted, back straightening from its former slouch and the colors dusting his cheek were very much real. while your lips parted as you tried to process the information, his own lips stretched into a gentle smile; gloved fingers plucking the flower from its pinned place on his outer robe, before placing a fleeting kiss on the one-stemmed tagetes’ amber corolla.

and as the crowds moved, eager to follow your lord, you let yourself be carried away by the sea of eager citizens, your heart doing double flips inside your chest as you tried to fit the puzzle pieces together.

…….. you think your ‘secret admirer’ might be the very god of your nation.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #rin writes #∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺

431 notes · View notes

tag-if · 6 months

Text

THE ADVISOR'S GAME ;

[DEMO]

You are an assassin, a professional, a contract killer. The pay is good, and your clientele are more than happy to keep your identity well under wraps. You take whatever work comes your way, and you don't ask questions.

Until.

An anonymous job offer. An envelope with cash, an image of your target with surprisingly crisp quality, and a non-descript note, left on the doorstep of your home.

'Kill the eldest royal for the other half of your pay.'

That's how you ended up here. Undercover in the royal palace. As the newly appointed royal advisor.

---

Are you a bloodthirsty killer, or do you kill out of pure necessity? Do you want to fish around for your mysterious employer, or do you want to live in blissful ignorance?

Make or break alliances, and maybe (reluctantly) fall for someone, as you navigate the intricacies of royal life, all while trying to figure out exactly why you were sent on such a risky job (and by who).

Do try not to get fired, and good luck. ★

"The Advisor's Game" is an 18+ (for mentions of death/violence, non-descript gore, etc.) mystery-romance, with 5 (subject to change) gender-selectable romance options, as well as cast of characters to befriend or antagonise.

[note; one RO will be gender-locked non-binary, however all ROs will be romanceable by any gender of MC]

NSFW TAG (to block, if wanted); a palace scandal

[more under the cut]

ROMANCE OPTIONS;

[AGES]

A. Bellefleur ; Aleron - Alize / the crown royal (your target) / m/f

The (supposedly) well-loved eldest child to the reigning monarchs, they appear in public regularly and often participate in council meetings— clearly someone takes issue with this...probably.

A. has lightly freckled ivory skin and grey-blue eyes, in similar fashion to their siblings. Their hair is a dark-ish auburn and messily cut to the top of their ears (fem A. has it similarly messy, however it falls to their chin in choppy waves)

[neutral to friends (to lovers) ; neutral to disliked ; neutral to respected] ★

K. Valiev ; Kostya - Katja / the head guard / m/f

An odd figure, unassuming, almost strangely approachable. They are quiet, and kind, and always smiling...so why do the older guards seem terrified of them?

K. is an olive skinned individual with a small scar running up over the right side of the jaw, and their eyes are dark brown. Their hair is a chestnut brown and is kept in tight curls, though they occasionally braid them (when they have time).

[friends to lovers ; neutral to friends (to lovers) ; friends/neutral to disliked] ★

A. Caras ; Altair - Arali / the royal physician / m/f

Their bedside manner leaves much to be desired, they are no nonsense to the point of being borderline rude, yet the whole palace sings their praise as though they are an angel (you don't see it, personally, but maybe you will eventually).

A. is an individual with vitiligo, leaving patches of their naturally sienna skin instead a pale ivory, as well as whitening some strands of their fringe. Their eyes are a bright green, and their honey blond curls are kept short (fem A. has longer curls, around chest length, that she keeps up in a ponytail for work).

[neutral to respected ; neutral to disliked ; neutral to friends (to lovers)] ★

T. Bellefleur ; Talbot - Tallis / the middle royal / m/f

The younger, but not youngest, sibling to the crown royal. They don't like you much (then again they don't like many people much), but you're not sure about that knowing glint in their eye when you interact— what do they see in you?

T. has heavily freckled beige skin and almost eerily pale blue eyes. Their hair is a fiery auburn and cut into a messy undercut (fem T. has shoulder length hair, covering an undercut at the back).

[enemies? to friends (to lovers) ; enemies? to respected] ★

M. Serrel ; Marin / your fellow assassin / nb

You had to do a double-take when you saw them, and so did they, it seemed someone wanted you two in the palace at the same time...but why?

Marin is a sienna skinned individual, with hazel eyes (on the greener side) and almost black-brown hair. Their hair just brushes their shoulders in length and falls in soft waves, though they quite often have it pulled into a half up bun/ponytail.

[rivals to friends (to lovers) ; friends (to lovers) ; friends to rivals ; friends to friends with benefits (to lovers)] ★

NOTE; for all romances MC must befriend the RO of their choice first, otherwise they won't consider anything beyond some light flirting. Additionally, in the case of A. Caras and T. Bellefleur, the romances will be slower burn (especially Caras).

#interactive fiction #twine game #twine if #twine wip #current wip #if game #masterpost #if intro #tag-if #the advisor's game

953 notes · View notes

ironborealis · 5 days

Text

@elsa-fogen

Just a little thing that's been itching at me, with your lovely Charlie's Toy AU.

***///***

"...I was starting to think he was just a figment of my imagination," Charlie yawns, and Vaggie pauses brushing out her girlfriend's long blonde strands for a moment.

"Oh?"

Before today, Vaggie had thought that Alastor was just a childhood friend of Charlie's, one who maybe died during an Extermination Day, and that's why Charlie always seemed a bit sad when she talked about him -- another reason she was so passionate about ending the exterminations.

The demon that appeared on their doorstep today like a demented Mary Poppins was nothing like what she'd pictured her girlfriend's childhood best friend to be.

She'd come running when she'd heard Charlie shrieking in the entrance, spear at the ready.

She'd been about to throw it at the red demon that had ensnared the now sobbing Charlie, when a black tentacle had wrenched the spear from her grasp and firmly planted it into an adjacent wall. The spear hit with such force that the plaster cracked and one of the pictures fell to the floor.

"Oh Charlie," the demon cooed, "Don't your friends know better than to run inside with spears? Now dry those eyes, give me a smile, and introduce me to your new friends."

The words were sticky sweet, but the look in the demon's eyes was utterly cold. This, Vaggie knew instinctively, was not a demon to be trusted or crossed.

"Mmm... It was like one day he was here and the next he just poof! Disappeared. Mom and Dad said he went to go live on a farm in one of the Upper Rings, but I knew that couldn't be right because he wouldn't just leave me and not say anything -- eventually they wouldn't talk about him at all. I started to think that I made him up... It wasn't like I had a lot of friends, it'd make sense that I might make one up."

Vaggie's heart breaks a little at the thought of Charlie ever being lonely as a child -- because Charlie is so good, so kind, and it seems like few people really appreciate that about her.

She doesn't think Alastor appreciates that about her either, except as something he can use to manipulate Charlie. Why else would he disappear for fourteen years, only to show up and offer to 'help' with the hotel out of the blue?

To (grudgingly) give Alastor credit, his magic made renovations a lot faster.

He was also someone powerful enough to summon other demons, including a minor overlord like Husk, to come work for the hotel.

There's something off about Alastor and Vaggie's going to get to the bottom of it, hopefully before he can hurt Charlie again.

#Inspired by elsa fogen's Charlie's Toys AU comics #Hazbin Hotel #charlie hazbin hotel #hazbin #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel fanfic #alastor the radio demon

172 notes · View notes

ystrike1 · 4 months

Text

I'm the One Who Died, but the Hero Went Crazy - By Chiwa (8/10)

Dragons and magic with a splash of sincerity. This time the crazed Duke is a loving man, who was mistreated horribly after his true love died. She sacrificed herself. He took revenge for her sake. Then, he faced endless pressure to marry and forget her noble final act. When she returns he is too broken to recognize her new form.

Aryn is your average hardworking and special sorceress. She won contracts with the four greatest elemental spirits. She did it all so she could accompany and protect her only friend. The chosen hero, Elkinas. Elkinas was her best friend. A good friend. A kind boy and man. Someone she could not abandon. When the nation forced destiny upon him she followed him to war, and he was eternally grateful. He made sure she knew how much he valued her....friendship...

She dies before Elkinas can propose to her.

The worst part is she dies happy. In her short life she accomplished so much. She was a girl from nowhere. Elkinas became her friend by sheer coincidence, before he was miraculously found by his noble parents. He was an orphan. Her regular friend. She loved watching him grow, and she loved growing too.

Sacrificing herself for him, when the time to kill the great dragon came, wasn't even a question. She didn't think before she did it, and she doesn't regret it.

She begs for Elkinas. She wants to see him one last time before she dies.

She does not see him. He doesn't go to her. He's busy. You see, he knows she's gone. There's no way to save her, and there's no time to waste. He will bring her back. No matter what. In the chaos he quickly steals the cursed dragons egg. He plans to cultivate the monster inside, so he can use it to turn back time.

To get Aryn back.

He did it all for her.

He became a perfect Duke for her. He endured his hellish family to become an ideal husband, and she never knew. She was too focused on helping him to notice his feelings. He was ok with that. He wanted her to figure it out when he was irresistible, wealthy and charming. His orphan self had to be gone from her mind.

He was so close.

His cherished dream shatters, and he becomes a villain to get it back.

He tries for 60 years. He is immortal. The gods granted him that, because he killed the cursed dragon. He used that heavy blessing to conduct experiments. His other friends tried to reason with him. They failed.

When Aryn awakens 80 years later she can't believe it. Her sweet childhood friend??? A villain???

She also doesn't know he loves her, which is annoying but ok. He was hiding it from her so she gets a pass.

Aryn is more beautiful now. Her new body was born inside the World Tree. Technically, her father is Zephyr. A Dragon Lord. He stole her soul to resurrect her with the help of the World Tree. Elkinas and Aryn are both very special people, who have been granted immortality. Elkinas doesn't know this because he is currently too dangerous to interact with Aryn.

When she arrives at the castle she finds the child he created alone. He is feared by the servants and seen as a cursed child.

At first it's disappointing. You think the Duke is a stereotypical cold man, but he doesn't know "Adelle" is actually Aryn. He hires her to protect and care for his son.

He's a little crazy, because people having stopped harassing him since Aryn died. Women who enchanted themselves to look like Aryn have appeared on his doorstep...claiming to be her. His madness is kind of understandable, but at the same time he is a beautiful demi-god. Of course plenty of evil women are willing to do anything to marry him.

Aryn begins to see his good side when she becomes his employee. They become friends and allies quickly, because "Adelle" sincerely wants to help him and his child.

No...she doesn't know the kid is made of her ashes.

The Duke becomes happier. Elkinas calms down when Aryn/Adelle helps him protect his son. Turns out the boy is cursed, but he wasn't born cursed. One of the Duke's enemies did it. Elkinas couldn't figure it out, because he's not all powerful. He needed help from an Elemental Sorcerer, and those are really rare. "Adelle" is a real blessing that helps him in many ways. He becomes friendly, but not romantic. He can't really date at the moment.

He's too busy grieving.

His son is all that is left of Aryn.

He gave up on resurrecting her 20 years ago. He cremated her and made the boy in a surge of grief. He never wanted to destroy the world. The dragons egg never hatched for him. It was never going to. He was delusional. In denial all along. His friends were absolutely right. Beating them up and chasing them out didn't change that.

He tries to focus on the happiness he has, with the child he created.

Maybe this is where the story should have ended.

"Adelle" was planning on raising the boy...and leaving afterwards. We could have had a bittersweet story, where the Duke does eventually get over Aryn. One where he focuses on raising his son made of ash and blood.....but there's an evil princess.

"Adelle" ALMOST gets away with it. Elkinas ALMOST lets her go. He ALMOST doesn't notice that Aryn is right in front of him, living and breathing.

The prophetic princess changes that. This prophet told him Aryn would return......to get his attention. He kept her around for a while. Unable to let go at the time. She used his trauma to get into his good graces, and she's been trying to seduce him ever since.

After "Adelle" purifies the curse on his son he warns her. He no longer needs her comforting lies. He will not marry her, and her life is forfeit if she continues to preen in front of him.

She doesn't stop.

She meets "Adelle" and she immediately assumes the nanny is his lover.

"Adelle" realizes that Elkinas is the same man. He doesn't attack unless provoked. His days of madness are winding down. She's about to accomplish her goal. Her best friend will be happy. She promises to raise his son (her son) well, and they start to eat family meals together. The servants stop fearing the boy. His existence is officially announced...and the princess moves.

Her jealousy explodes. She tried to seduce the Duke for years.

She won't give up.

When the Duke introduces his son to the people a battle breaks out.

Elkinas is actually great. He prioritizes his son's safety above all else. He treats "Adelle" like a trustworthy bodyguard. "Adelle" pretends to be hypnotized by the princess, in order to get information from her. The situation keeps getting more dangerous though. Duke Elkinas isn't just a Duke. He's the legendary hero. His children will be immortal. He is the most powerful fighter ever and human diseases can't touch him. The royal princess will not stop until she has the power of God in her hands. In her family line. For her people. For love. She's madly in love with him, and her entire family supports her.

The princess is why "Adelle" fails, and Aryn is eventually exposed.

The series seems to be going for a more comedic tone.....but I'm not sure what will happen. Aryn lied to Elkinas, over and over. He's been broken because of her death for 80 years, and she's actively hiding from him. I think the truth will hurt him, at least a little.

Zephyr, "Adelle's" father, desperately tries to cover her true identity...but Elkinas keeps digging. The conflict with the princess exposes "Adelle". "Adelle" is loved by all four spirits...like Aryn. They also talk the same and act the same.

I sense an explosion.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #I'm the One Who Died #but the Hero Went Crazy

291 notes · View notes

tales-of-the-ghost-zone · 7 months

Text

DP x DC x DW crossover idea

Cadmus, using DNA samples of Superman and the Doctor that they’ve collected over the years, creates a Kryptonian/TimeLord clone hybrid. The clone, DNY-13, looks a lot like Superman while also having two hearts/binary vascular system. Sometime when the clone is about 4 or 5 he escapes from the lab. A portal to the infinite realms had opened up and the clone managed to wander into it without anyone noticing.

Clockwork, who’d opened the portal, was waiting on the other side for the clone. Clockwork then drops the clone off right outside the Fenton’s front door, rings the bell, and disappears. The Fenton’s find this tiny little toddler just standing on their front step and instantly fall in love with him. They bring him inside and look him over. He appears to be in perfect health, though the double heart beat is a bit odd. And he has a medical ID bracelet that declares him to be DNY-13, property of Cadmus, and the year of birth being almost thirty years in the future.

The Fenton’s decide to ignore the bracelet, cutting it off and hiding it away in one of their filing cabinets. They decide to name the tiny child, Danny, and quickly introduce him to his big sister Jazz. Danny grows up with the Fenton’s never knowing that he’s a clone hybrid of two different aliens. (Also in this au this is one of the reasons why Dani was so unstable when she was first created. Cause she was the clone of a clone that is half Kryptonian and half TimeLord. Something that Vlad didn’t know).

It isn’t until about five years after he becomes Phantom that he finds his old Cadmus medical ID bracelet in one of the filing cabinets in the ops center. He asks his parents about it and they finally tell him about how they found him on their doorstep when he was 4/5. Danny decides to consult Clockwork where he finds out that he was a clone created by Cadmus sometime in the future, and that Clockwork rescued him from them and gave him to the Fenton’s.

After finding this out, Danny decides to go searching for the two aliens who he was created from!

403 notes · View notes

sasayego · 5 months

Text

lazy sundays

prompt — your fiancé, dick grayson, is the love of your life. was. you think he’s dead, but in reality, he’s out there as a spyral agent. meanwhile, you start appreciating the little things more.

tags — reader got out of an ED, mental health issues. angst and comfort, dick grayson x fem!reader. sfw

jason todd was the one who was attracted to you first. he saw you at a wayne gala and thought you were the love of his life. he asked you out, and you immediately said yes, intimidated by the fact that a wayne was the one who noticed you.

dick didn’t even notice you, which you didn’t mind too much. jason was all that you needed. he was kind and funny but he had this really annoying behavior where he would scream at you in fights. like, scream. one night, things got heated and he left into the night, leaving you behind to go outside, no doubt to clear his mind.

you decided to take care of yourself and make it up to him, so, you had finished his laundry. when putting his clothes away, you noticed a very red helmet with another suit with keys in them. you would’ve thought that it was a cute cosplay prop if the keys didn’t open up a drawer with all sorts of guns in the bottom drawer.

you would’ve freaked out if the radio next to his guns didn’t just go static with —“fuck—nightwing here—wounded on fifth—.” and your blood went cold. jason todd? knew who nightwing was?

you didn’t even think about it, think if it was a trap. you took the radio and drove where nightwing said he was injured. nobody responded and you were praying that he was alive.

and that was when dick grayson, really, really saw you. saw your perseverance, your stubborn nature and how you always looked to the brighter sides of things even when he was stabbed in several places with a split rib and a gash to his head.

you were not a doctor, god no, you were in the beginning of your master’s degree, but with strength that rivaled a mother whose child was underneath a car, you managed to pick him up and put him in your car.

“so jason told you who I am? the little shit. he was supposed to talk to bruce before he revealed our identities. that’s what I get for having a love struck brother, huh?”

you stopped halfway and then looked at him in shock, your mouth open in a slight ‘o’. and he realized that you didn’t know, that your boyfriend of seven months was hiding things from you.

“just take me to bruce’s. say you know, and say I need help.” you let out a groan at it and press on the gas.

jason wasn’t to be found for the next few days. dick was though.

when he recovered and appeared at your doorstep with flowers and a sheepish smile, a cast and a boyish smile that felt like infidelity, your face flushed and you took them happily.

“thanks for saving me,” he said, and leaned against the doorway. unlike jason, his mannerisms and way of acting came easy, smoother, a better flow. and you fell so bad just thinking that. “may I come in?”

and against your better judgment, you stepped side. “mi casa es tu casa.”

his eyes twinkled at that. “tu casa es muy hermosa,” he said. “como el tuyo.”

“you know spanish?”

“I know mandarin, spanish, french, romansh, german, portuguese, hindi, japanese, and arabic. well, learning. dami’s teaching me that one.”

your jaw drops. “I just know english, my mother tongue, and high school spanish.”

“still better than 90% of america.”

that was how it started—he met you every so often, taking coffee out, mini golfing, kayaking, while jason grew ever so distant in the corner. you couldn’t blame jason for it, either. it wasn’t like you were making much of an effort to revive the relationship.

but everything changed that one night when jason asked you to go to a wayne gala with him. out of all his siblings, he had chosen the short straw this time. you said no—you didn’t want to go to another one of them and get hounded by paparazzi at this point.

and jason was fine with that. it wasn’t like he particularly liked going to galas anyways, so he understood your denial. until an hour later when on instagram in one of the more popular news sites, a viral photo of you and dick hugging in the rain together and staring at each other after getting a hole in one in a really hard mini golfing course started circling around.

“what the fuck is wrong with you? are you fucking him? don’t even answer that, I can tell. and even if you aren’t, I know you want to.”

“no, jason, what the fuck is wrong with you? I haven’t done anything with dick, nor do I want to. we’re friends.”

“you don’t underhand, y/n. I’m gonna be the guy that the papers make fun of once you leave me for him. so I’ll do what you don’t have the guts to. we’re done.”

your world didn’t shatter because of that, surprisingly. he moved out of your apartment. you watched gilmore girls reruns. you ate a lot of food. some cried tears, but nothing much. until one day, dick appeared at your door out of the blue.

"dick?" you raised an eyebrow, looking at him with an unsure look in your eye. "what are you doing here?" you were wearing your sweats with a dumbed down look in your eye that clearly stated you didn't know what the hell was happening.

"i'm in love with you. i'm sorry—but i can't stop thinking about you. your laugh is infectious and when you smile it's like a cloudy sky just turns back to sunshine—"

you stepped forward and kissed him. you thought the tabloids were full of shit, but you knew that they were right about this one thing.

after two years of dating, he had done a vigilante trip to india to track down some passages. while he was there, he went and bought a shiny ring. you'd marry him with paper rings. he planned a view of a skyline and it went perfectly, thank god.

but he died. he died and now you're sitting here in the apartment, staring at a photo of the two of you. you miss everything about him. the way he'd subtly add more food to your plate when you were having your ED. when he held you throughout the night after a panic attack even though he had patrol that day. when. he defended you from the paparazzi, when he screamed at jason right back when jason found out that you and dick were dating.

don't tell me you're staring at that damned photo. - tim

you look at your phone and sigh before closing down your phone. tim wouldn't understand. he wouldn't get it. how could he? it wasn't like he lost the love of his life. he was a robin. he knew loss. you didn't. he also lost his brother, you remind yourself, and that just makes it all worse.

you grab the photo and curl up in a ball in fetal position. you miss lazy sunday afternoons when you've eaten too much and that food is resting in your stomach. your head would be in your fiancé's lap and his hands would be in your hair and the minute he would move his hands from your hair or your back, you'd wake up, your body discomforted by the lack of touch. that's my superpower, you'd joke.

no, he'd respond. your superpower is being the most amazing and talented woman i have ever had the pleasure of meeting. i would do anything for you. your beauty rivals the stars in the night sky. i love you like how the moon loves the earth.

at the single thought of it, you curl up and sob, the tears racking down as you clench the photos to your heart. five months and thirteen days and you are not a single second away from properly healing. you'll never love again. you know that for a fact.

it's ten in the night when you wake up, and the couch is stained with tears. haley is right beside you, looking sad and sullen. she misses her best friend too, but she always hates it when her other best friend is crying.

"i haven't fed you? fuck," you swear before standing up. everything hurts. your heart feels too heavy. there's cuts on your wrists. you stare at them, the red from the blood dried up.

he also stares at them too. he vows that he's coming back no matter what.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson x you #hurt/comfort #richard grayson #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x female!reader #dc comics

243 notes · View notes

heich0e · 10 months

Text

[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical characteristics, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <3]

"So, can you help me?"

Megumi blinks down at the little boy, still yet to say a single word since he arrived at the veterinary clinic's doorstep. His lips part, and he tries to say something, but speech fails him. Like he's forgotten how to will his lips and teeth and tongue to do anything at all.

The little boy—the one who looks just like him, who has his hair, and his father's eyes, and the nose he's always been told he got from his mother—waits raptly for his response.

Megumi nods, waving the child in from the rain.

That should have been the first thing he did, he realizes belatedly, especially when he sees the way the boy's teeth are chattering when he steps in from the cold. He's sopping wet—with water dripping from his little blue raincoat and his yellow rubber boots onto the lobby floor.

"Can I see it?" Megumi finally speaks, looking down at the little baby bunny the boy is holding to his chest.

The boy looks reluctant for a moment, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, before nodding. He allows Megumi to scoop the animal from his little hand into his own, much larger one. The rabbit looks even tinier when he holds it in his hand, but it is mercifully still alive. It's weak, and possibly not going to make it, but for now there's still hope—and that's all Megumi needs.

He looks at the boy again, who waits with bated breath for his prognosis.

"Is this your pet?" Megumi asks the boy, though there are about a thousand other questions he has that beg to be posed.

The little boy shakes his head no.

"Where did you find it?"

"In the field behind Mama's work," the little boy says. "Is he gonna be okay?"

Mama.

"What's your mama's name?" Megumi asks before he can stop himself.

The little boy looks at him curiously. "Mama's name?"

Megumi nods.

"Mama."

The adult sighs pressing a hand to his eyes, unsure of why he expected anything else.

Two little hands clutch at the hem of his sweater.

"Please Mister," the little boy says, and Megumi spreads his fingers apart to look down at where the boy stands below him. The tears have welled fiercely now, sparkling in his green eyes. "Please make sure the bunny is okay."

Megumi freezes for a moment, an ache in his chest that he can't name—a heart attack maybe?

"Fushiguroooooooooooo—!"

A familiar figure appears in the doorway to the clinic, the door sliding open again.

"The weather out there is nast—"

Yuuji, still in his station uniform and with a case of beer tucked under one arm, freezes when he steps inside and spots the little boy holding on to the bottom of Megumi's jumper.

The darker haired man watches just about every thought play out across his long-time friend's face. Yuuji's eyes snap up to meet his, and Megumi can practically see the words flashing in his eyes—

WHAT THE FUCK?

"Yuuji, can you please look after him while I take his bunny to an exam room?" Megumi's voice is surprisingly even as he addresses his friend. "He came here alone."

It takes Yuuji a moment to process things, but when he does, Megumi watches the switch happen—the softening of his expression, the easygoing smile appearing on his face. This is not Yuuji who Megumi once watched streak naked across their high school sportsfield when he lost a bet to Nobara, not Yuuji who once cried for three hours after watching a tragic romance movie that didn't have a happy ending, not Yuuji who he's dragged home drunk more times than he can count—this is Itadori-san, Fire Lieutenant, who is here to help a little boy who's all alone late at night.

"Hi there," Yuuji says to the boy, crouching down to the boy's level. He sets the case of beer aside on one of the waiting room chairs. "I'm Itadori Yuuji, what's your name?"

Megumi almost laughs, but doesn't, and he steps through the doorway towards the exam rooms before he can hear the little boy's answer.

It doesn't take Megumi long to surmise the the baby bunny is not in any imminent peril—suffering more than anything from exposure, having likely been separated from it's mother too soon, and met with weather too inclement to survive. If the little boy hadn't found him, and hadn't known to bring him here, it's unlikely it would have lasted the night.

Megumi gets the rabbit set up in a small makeshift cage for the time being, setting down clean bits of hay and something soft for it to sleep atop. He puts water and some food inside as well, but just being in from the cold seems to have done the animal a world of good, and it quickly hides beneath the little blanket Megumi put down for it, and curls up to go to sleep.

He breathes a little easier, but only for a moment.

He makes his way back out to the lobby.

Yuuji is crouching on the floor, towelling the little boy's hair dry as he sits on one of the waiting room chairs. When Yuuji stops the vigorous movement of his hands, and the child peeks out from underneath the towel, his hair is sticking up in every which way. Both of the adults in the room stare at him in shock.

He looks just like Megumi.

"Kota-chan, I don't know if you got a proper introduction when you arrived," Yuuji says with a bright smile towards the little boy, jutting a thumb over his shoulder in Megumi's direction, "this is Doctor Fushiguro, he takes care of all of the animals here."

The little boy blinks in Megumi's direction, the towel still looped around his shoulders.

"Hello," Megumi greets him, though it's a little stiff.

"Is he okay?" the little boy, Kota as Yuuji has just introduced him, asks him earnestly. "Is the bunny okay?"

Megumi nods. "He'll be fine."

Kota smiles brightly, his cheeks lifting high on his face. It's the purest, sincerest expression that Megumi's ever seen on anyone.

"Kota-chan was just telling me that his mother works at a restaurant not far from here," Yuuji says, standing from his stoop on one side of the room. He shares a look with his friend that's more serious than the expression on his face or the tone of his voice betrays. "Do you know her?"

Megumi looks down at his feet, his fists clenched at his side.

He shakes his head no.

He hears Yuuji make a choked little noise of confusion, which he covers with a cough. "Hey, Kota-chan, are you hungry?"

Megumi looks up in time to see the little boy nod, his hands resting over his stomach. His blue raincoat is hanging on the coat rack by the entrance along with Yuuji's and now Megumi can see the sweater he's wearing—with a little cartoon racoon printed on the front.

"I know where Dr. Fushiguro keeps all the good snacks, should we go get one?" Yuuji asks the boy with a bright smile, and Kota nods again with an excited sparkle in his eyes. Yuuji takes his hand and helps him off his chair, leading him towards the staff kitchen. The blush-haired man pauses as he passes his friend.

"You should come too," he says, but his tone is quieter when he speaks to his friend, their eyes meeting. "We've got some stuff to talk about."

#megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk drabble #jjk writing #writing #mini megumi #tw parenthood #tw pregnancy

440 notes · View notes

alrightieaphroditie · 10 months

Text

deeper | j.m series masterlist! | next chapter!

pairing *:·ﾟjoel miller x female!reader wc *:·ﾟ4.1k an *:·ﾟthis is quite literally two times as long as the first part... oops? lmao i really enjoyed writing this so i hope that everyone enjoys reading it! i have two more parts planned after this, maybe some little drabbles in between or something too? but the series WILL get smuttier as it progresses so i promise you that :) this isn't edited much so if you catch something i didn't... please help ya girl out. hope you enjoy! comments and reblogs are hella welcome

synopsis *:·ﾟthe night has finally arrived: joel and ellie are visiting for dinner. afterwards, you learn more about just who joel miller really is.

to say you were nervous about having joel and ellie over was a complete and total understatement.

sure, you've had ellie over at your house before. she practically visits almost every day, sometimes staying for ten minutes, sometimes a few hours. it wasn't really her you were worried about, though, if you were being truthful. it was joel coming over that made you anxious. your fears were confirmed when you talked to him last night: you had a small, itsy-bitsy crush on the older man.

it's not that there was anything wrong with that, either. but you were a child when the outbreak happened, and then you lived most of your life secluded from others. you simply haven't ever had the chance to crush on someone. not that there was ever really anyone worthy of crushing on until now, but that's beside the point. maybe this wasn't even a crush. maybe you just...liked joel? like as a friend?

no. it was a positively, absolutely a crush.

it was this revelation that had you cleaning your house for most of the day. it wasn't even dirty to begin with. you simply just couldn't sit around, waiting for the moment that ellie and joel appeared on your doorstep. so, you dusted as much as you could, swept up the main areas of your house, and straightened up the small collection of clutter that you had accumulated within the months of being there.

as the afternoon started to dip into the early evening, you began to prepare the food. you weren't the best cook, truthfully, so you decided to stick with what you did know. which is why you were going to be serving breakfast for dinner. you felt a little silly, but you figured this was better than serving burnt meat or something. besides, ellie had mentioned to you the other day that she had never tried pancakes before, and you had just so happened to trade a few of your blankets for a batch of mix that one of your neighbors had made.

you had just finished plating the last of the bacon you had cooked when you heard heavy footsteps on your porch, accompanied by a sharp, quick knock on the door. wiping your hands on your dishrag, you took a deep breath before making your way to the front entry way. despite your nerves, the smile on your face was genuine, as was the cheer in your voice as you greeted your two guests with a "hi!"

ellie grinned up at you, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and wearing an oversized flannel that you wondered if it belonged to joel. she gave you a small hug before tilting her head back, sniffing the air. "oh man, it smells amazing in here. what is that?" she asked, leaving the entry way, and rushing into the kitchen without a response. you laughed after her before turning to face joel.

he stood right in front of you, almost awkwardly. he was holding a giant sack in one hand, and your head tilted in question. "oh, uh," he cleared his throat, motioning to the sack. "ellie mentioned you had a fireplace but hated gathering the wood, so i uh, i brought you some. as a thank you."

"that's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, joel. thank you!" did his cheeks flush? certainly not. right? "you can leave it on the porch if you want. i can carry it in later." he nodded in agreement, setting the bag on the ground as you stepped to the side to let him in.

“i hope you’re alright with breakfast for dinner,” you started, shutting the door behind joel, and leading him to your kitchen. “i found some pancake mix and wanted to surprise ellie.” your back was to him, but you could hear the stutter in his footsteps. turning back around, you saw him standing still, his eyes cinched at the corners. “is that okay, joel?”

hearing his name must have snapped him out of his trance, as his dark eyes blinked, and his head shook slightly. “yeah, ‘s fine.” his voice was rough, like he forced the words out of his throat. his hand clenched into a fist, the broken face of his watch catching a ray of light. then his hand relaxed, and he started to close the gap between the two of you.

“are you sure? because i can try to whip something else up if you- “

“said it was fine, hon. i mean it.” his hand brushed against yours briefly as he passed, making his way into the kitchen with ellie. one step forward, two steps back, you thought sadly as you took a breath before walking into the kitchen.

"are these what i think they are?" the excitement in ellie's voice was notable, which put a smile on your face. ellie was curiously lifting the edge of one pancake on the platter until joel walked to her side, smacking her hand softly to make her let go, murmuring something about having manners that you could just barely hear.

you handed ellie the platter and then turned her around, guiding her to your small dining table by her shoulders. "they are indeed, ellie bellie. i don't have any syrup, though, which is technically what you're supposed to put on top of them. i do have a few different types of jelly we could use, which is still just as good."

ellie set the platter of food on the table, and the two of you went back and forth from the kitchen to the dining room, carrying plates of scrambled eggs, sausage patties and bacon, some toast, and a small collection of fruit that had started to grow again with the changing season.

joel watched the two of you as he leaned against the counter, seemingly taking in the domesticity of it all. you bumped your hip against his on your way back in, motioning for him to follow you to the fridge. "here, old man. think you can carry these jars to the table, or do you need some help?" you teased, handing him a few different jars of jelly.

he shook his head at you. "i see the kid's shitty sense of humor is rubbin' off on ya," he said, but he let you fill his hands with the goods.

"hey! i heard that, jerk." ellie shouted from the dining room, causing the two of you to chuckle. you grabbed the pitcher of orange juice you had made earlier, as well as one full of water, and carried those to the table behind joel.

you both organized your goods on the table before taking a seat at the table. you and joel were facing each other, and ellie was off to the side. she was already holding her utensils in both hands, bouncing them off the table as she eagerly took in the spread of food. "can we?" she asked, not even taking her eyes off the pancake stack.

"go for it, kid," you laughed, pouring out the drinks for everyone. joel watched ellie load her plate with a little of everything, and then he waited for you to do the same before he took his turn. you noticed he steered clear from the pancakes, which upset you, but you tried not to let it show. honestly you were just thankful that they had come over. small victories, you guess.

ellie slathered up her pancakes with a little of each of the jelly spreads you had, and then practically shoved a whole pancake in her mouth. "oh my god," the words were muffled by the food. joel chewed on a piece of bacon, his eyes narrowing at the girl as she continued to boast about how good the food was, with her mouth full.

"jesus, ellie. what have we talked about? have some manners, please." he asked, his voice a little stern as he handed ellie part of his napkin. you watched the interaction with a small grin on your face. they may not have been biologically related, but joel was every bit a father towards the girl and seeing his care for her in person made your stomach flutter.

"sorry 'bout that," joel muttered your way, motioning to ellie with his fork. "we're workin' on it." ellie gave you a sheepish look before continuing to eat like she hadn't in days. which you knew was far from the truth, considering you had had her over for lunch just the other day.

"it's okay. i remember how i was when i first came into the community, too. i'm glad she's enjoying it." you caught the questioning look in joel's eyes, as if he was curious to hear more. it definitely wasn't something you wanted to discuss in front of ellie, though. you knew she had been through a lot, probably more than you had if you were being honest, but you imagined that she was tired of hearing about all the bad in the world. you wanted to help show her, and joel, the good. because lord, did they look like they needed it.

the conversation flowed easily after that. joel and ellie told you all about life in a qz, which was something you had managed to escape, as you and your family hid away in a secret bunker for the beginning of the outbreak. ellie told you about the school there and how much she hated it, how she would sneak out with a friend of hers sometimes and explore. this seemed to be news to joel, as he stared at her intently while she confessed these secrets.

you learned how ellie loved to draw, and when you asked her if she would draw some art for your living room she practically shot out of her seat in excitement. you learned how joel used to play the guitar and how he wanted to be a singer before the outbreak, something ellie lovingly poked fun at. you could see it, though. he definitely had the voice for singing, a rich, thick, deep sound that you imagine could've sold millions.

you practically begged him to teach you how to play the guitar, but he made no promises. ellie let it slip about the time that she found your hidden romance novels in a box in a closet, which had caused you to choke on your orange juice. she quickly steered the conversation to her comic books, though, and you blessed the kid’s short attention span.

when the food had been demolished (mostly by ellie) you all gathered up the dirty dishes and lugged them back into the kitchen. as you gathered the cups from the table and walked into the kitchen, you saw joel standing at your sink, already washing off the plates. "oh, joel, you don't have to do that. i can do them later," you offered, balancing your cups on the counter near the sink.

"'s not a problem, really. you cooked, i can clean." his voice was final, as was the firm glance he gave your way as you tried to sneak the sponge away from him. you held your hands up in surrender, laughing quietly as you made your way to the living room where ellie was. she was spread out across the couch, hands rested on her stomach with her eyes closed.

her chest was rising and falling steadily, and so you poked her foot slightly, waiting a couple moments before doing it again. she didn't even flinch, so you quietly walked back into your kitchen, where joel was drying his hands off with a rag. "well, i'm like seventy percent sure the kid is asleep."

"only seventy?" he asked, giving you a quirked eyebrow. you watched him fold up your dishrag and put it on the counter, and for some reason you were so enthralled with the gentleness of how he did it. how could anyone in this town be afraid of this man, how could they cross the street to the other sidewalk when he was passing by, when he was in your kitchen, washing your dishes and folding your rags?

you cleared your throat. "yeah, only seventy. there's a slight chance she's faking it and trying to scare me, but the joke's on her. i'm not going to check on her again." you held your head up high, proud that you could have potentially caught on to one of ellie's pranks (though you would later realize she was, indeed, asleep, and in some turnabout way ellie still won because now she had you paranoid.)

joel's lips curved, and you heard him mumble "oh, ellie," quite fondly. you both leaned back against your respective counters, and you were scrambling for something to say when joel beat you to it. "do you uh..." he coughed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "would you wanna go sit on the porch, maybe? give the kid some space?"

you had to stop yourself from squealing. here you were trying to think of ways to get joel to stay and he volunteered the perfect option himself. you found yourself shaking your head enthusiastically. "yeah! i can make us some drinks if you want?" he nodded in agreement, thanking you quietly before sneaking out to the porch.

you gave yourself a moment to freak out before getting joel a glass of whiskey and yourself a glass of water. you snagged a blanket off of a chair and quietly shut the door behind you. joel was getting comfortable on the loveseat bench you had near the door, and you handed off his glass before settling down yourself, pulling the blanket around your legs.

it was that time of year in wyoming where the mornings and evenings were still chilly from winter and more than not, you'd still need to bundle up, but the sun was blazing for the majority of the day. outside the sun was beginning to set, the sky a kaleidoscope of pink and orange and blue hues. the crickets were chirping again, and in the distance you could hear the soft tunes of music coming from the tipsy bison.

joel turned towards you, motioning his glass of whiskey to you, offering you the first sip. you were never one to drink - you never got accustomed to the strong taste - but you didn’t want to turn joel down, so you accepted it with a grin, your fingers brushing against his softly. your face was already warm when you brought the cup to your mouth, taking a small sip that resulted in you coughing.

“not a fan?” joel asked, a small smile on his face as he took the glass back from you. amusement sparkled in his brown eyes, and even if it was from your hiccup, you were happy that he was finally warming up to you.

“not at all. my parents were big drinkers growin’ up so i kinda tried to avoid all of it. it’s not a very welcoming taste,” you laughed at yourself, wiping the edge of your mouth with the blanket. joel was still grinning at you, and he motioned the glass towards you again.

“tastes better the second time,” he said casually, that sparkle still in his eyes. you narrowed your own eyes at him, a hint of a smile on your lips. “are you lying to me, joel miller?”

“maybe, maybe not. one way to find out.” he shrugged his shoulders, angling the glass towards you even more.

and you knew he was lying. you knew it and he knew it, but you wanted to see if it would make him smile again, maybe even laugh. so, you grabbed the cup, took in a deep breath, and took another sip. you wish you could say that you drank it with dignity, maybe just a small cough, but unfortunately that was not the case. the taste was so repulsive in your throat that it made you gag slightly, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and god you were so embarrassed but -

a deep chuckle sounded from the man next to you, the corners of his eyes creasing as his mouth spread into a grin. he placed his hand against his chest as he laughed, probably thinking you were a bit too much of an idiot to fall for his teasing. but to you? it was worth it. you wanted to be the cause of that sound forever.

“that was mean, miller.” you laughed, taking a sip of the water that you had brought out with you.

“i know, i’m sorry hun. couldn’t help myself,” his voice was teasing, his eyes shining in the pink and orange glow slowly fading from the skyline. you pulled your blanket around you tighter, trying to fight back the blush that always seemed to encompass your cheeks when you were around joel. “so… romance books, huh?”

“oh, shush. they’re a guilty pleasure of mine, okay?” you confessed, your eyes rolling as you laughed. you had thought he might have missed ellie's comment about them earlier, but apparently not. maybe it was the whiskey you sipped earlier, or maybe it was simply joel’s comforting presence, but you continued. “it’s kind of silly, but i’ve never been in love before. and i’ve always wondered what it would be like. to just… have someone by your side, fighting for you. those books are as close as i can get.”

you watched his grin fade slowly and a distant look passed through his dark eyes. “‘m sure the books exaggerate the feeling quite a bit, though.” his voice was rough, and he rubbed his hand across his jaw almost absentmindedly. his gaze was on the bench of the seat between the two of you, where your toes were peeking out from underneath the blanket.

“well, duh. they are fictional, joel.” you poked his arm that had moved to rest on the back of the bench, subsequently resting behind your shoulders. “but i think the authors had to pull from some real-life emotions, though, right?”

“touché,” his shoulder shrugged as he responded, his mouth tilting up at the side. he let his hand fall from his jaw, his arm spreading across his legs as his hand reached to play with the tassels on the edge of your blanket. your heart raced.

“have you ever been in love?” your voice was quiet, curious. your fingers traced the edge of your cup, and joel's eyes zeroed in on the movement. you had learned an awful lot about ellie tonight, as you had been for the last few weeks that you've known her. but you were wanting to learn more about the man sitting next to you.

he was quiet, contemplative, even. for a second you worried you pressed too far, that he wasn't even going to respond to you. you were trying to figure out a way to backpedal when he cleared his throat. “thought i was, a long time ago. it wasn’t that kind of frilly romance stuff you read about, though. it was... real. and it didn't last.” you nodded your head, taking in his information silently.

god, did you want to press on more. this man was like a vault, only offering you pieces of himself when he felt it necessary. you wanted to hoard those pieces away for yourself until you collected enough to fully know who joel miller was. you felt like this may have been a topic he wasn't fully ready to dive into yet, so you turned it back to yourself. “sometimes i worry i’ll never be able to experience it. especially with the way the world is right now.”

he took a healthy sip from his glass, and you noticed he had placed his lips where yours had been. that made you shiver, and you tucked yourself tighter with the blanket. “well, i feel like if anyone deserves to, it should be you.” he avoided your gaze with his confession, focusing on the retreating sun and the sky as it grew into a darker hue.

you were quiet for a second, your eyes squinting slightly as you inspected joel. his dark hair was tousled perfectly, and you could see hints of grey streaking through the strands. the same went for his beard, which he had kept close to his skin. his tan skin complemented the olive-green jacket he had put on, though you knew he wore it for the function rather than the aesthetic. he had freckles on the base of his hairline, near his ear. you wonder if he knew that.

“do you think you deserve a second chance to?” your words cut through the silence, causing joel to put that dark gaze on you rather than the sky.

“don’t know what i think i deserve. i’m not the knight in shinin' armor hero that you read about, that’s for sure.” his voice was harsh, and he shook his head slightly before downing the rest of his drink, turning his eyes back to the sunset. you felt your heart break at his words.

“joel," you started softly, placing your hand on top of his arm that was resting behind you. you tilted your head to the side slightly to catch his eye. "i don’t know what you’ve experienced or what you’ve done, but the right person wouldn’t let that come between you. you did what you thought was necessary to survive, and honestly? i can’t blame you. you still deserve good things.”

you saw his grip tighten around his empty glass, but his gaze stayed focused on yours. god, did you hope that he understood what you were saying. that it somehow broke through the walls he surely had built around his heart. you could see his head nodding minutely, like his body was able to accept your words even if his head didn't.

the screen door opened just then, tearing the attention away to ellie as she slowly tripped her way onto the porch. she was rubbing her eyes with one of her hands, and while still yawning, she asked, "can we go home, joel?"

joel shot you an amused look, and you stifled a laugh as he stood up, rubbing his hands together slightly as the air took a sharp chill. "sure thing, kiddo." you stood up too, walking over to ellie and giving her a quick hug. she thanked you for the dinner and lazily made her way down the porch steps, still rubbing her eyes.

you turned to joel, who was watching his girl on the sidewalk. "thank you for coming over." you nudged a rock on the porch with your foot, wrapping your arms around your middle as you looked up to him.

"thank you for invitin' us over. we really appreciate it."

"of course. we could make this a weekly thing, ya know. if you wanted to, that is." you were dangerously close to rambling status, wanting to give joel reasons why he should say yes, so you shut your mouth, leaving it open to him. he glanced down at you, the height difference between the two of you leaving you just at his shoulders. you liked that, for some reason.

he waited a moment before responding. "i think we could make it work, yeah." you could see the hint of a smile crossing his lips, and you couldn't help but smile back at him, taking a step closer to wrap your arms around his side.

he froze, and you almost pulled away with an apology on your lips before you felt him shift, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. and then, you froze under him as you felt his lips brush against your forehead. the movement was so faint you thought you imagined it, but when he whispered, "good night, hon," you could feel his breath against your skin.

and so, you whispered back, "good night, joel," and pulled away, waving your fingers slightly as he went down the steps. he caught up to ellie in no time, and you grinned as you watched him put his arm around ellie's shoulders, steering her in the right direction.

later you would replay the nights events in your mind on a loop. you'd come up with different things you should have done or should have said. you'd wonder about joel's response to the pancakes, and whether he would ever tell you the truth behind his flinch. you hoped he would believe that he did deserve that second chance, and you prayed that he would take it with you.

but for right now, as the crickets chirped louder than before, as the streetlights started to flicker on one by one, and as the stars began littering the sky with their glow, you were happily content with the way things went tonight. and you knew, for certain, that you were in deep with joel miller.

tag list *:·ﾟ@yyiikes @farintonorth @scarletsloveletter

602 notes · View notes

yuugen-benni · 4 months

Text

''Not a Father's Day''

When your husband gets a baby fever TAGS: Childe x reader, the word ''sex'' appear only once, mentions of pregnancy (yes I'm breaking my own rule), Modern AU A/N: This is based on ''How I met your mother'' T4 E7, and I'M OBSESSED WITH THE HEADER PLUSHIE AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Guys, when you get married remember, Marriage has three stages:

Stage number 1: Teen era Even after you've known each other for years and years, almost tried to kill each other, and probably seen you both naked, you'll act like teenagers in their prime. You know, teasing, blushing for any reason, sex in the most inopportune places, those things that one day you will remember and feel ashamed of yourself.

Stage number 2 - Finding out The part of the relationship where you realize you knew absolutely nothing about your partner. Actually, "Nothing" is an exaggeration but you get the point. You start to know about small things that are shocking to the point of being considered a secret. Everyone has a secret, right? And the best way to count them is to dump each one. For example, Childe talking about her crazy exes:

''it's raining, look!….Oh, this reminds me so much of a crazy ex of mine who was in front of my apartment one night yelling about how she and I were meant for each other, and her husband was by her side! And the unbelievable was-''

And he kept talking and talking, while your expression was screaming ''There is more ?!'' and your mind thanks God for being normal;

Stage number 3 - Perfect couple

Here is when you became a perfect couple. What is a perfect couple? Two people who have spent so much time together that they can now create an encyclopledia about their partner. Habits, tics, favorite foods, the number of Hot Wheels cars your partner has collected, that sort of thing. Even reading expressions is possible;

The fights end and so do the disagreements

But there is only one subject that can break this: Babies.

''Hey babe, I'm back!" Childe announces his arrival, the door closes behind him as he walks over to you in the kitchen, and peck your lips "I was on my way here when I found out this little sock on our doorstep…?" Childe leans on the counter by his side with a confused expression while he plays with the child's sock, noticing the cute little blue patterns. You, who was kindly decorating cookies for Childe's siblings, looked up to look at the little thing

''It must be from new neighbors, they got the opposite apartment and knocked our door asking for help'' You started, leaving aside the piping bag ''Finally some new people! It's been so long since someone rented an apartment here'' the man commented, approaching the cookies discreetly before wincing at the slap you gave his hand

''They have two kids'' Continuing ''a baby girl and a boy with Teucer's age''

At the mention of his brother, Childe's expression changed, forgetting his red fingers. ''Awesome, we could invite them to dinner this weekend, If that's not a problem'' He gave an idea, but then raised an eyebrow at your dull expression

''They seem like good people…but I-I'm sure they'll ask those awkward questions like 'when are you two having a baby' and then apologize for being intrusive after being intrusive'' Of course, it was just an assumption, you had only interacted with them for minutes but your biggest mistake in this conversation was bringing up the subject you two avoid. Childe laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

''Well-''

"Childe, we already talked about this. You just have a silly baby fever, and in case you didn't know, fever goes away" You quickly dismissed him, knowing he wouldn't give up so soon. Having a child was a big request, a big wish. But it's not like it wouldn't be ''easy'', you have enough money to have 50 kids and they still wouldn't use up half of Childe's bank account. His family lives in the apartment next door and could teach you more about how to take care of children…But there was still an insecurity boiling inside you.

"But what if it doesn't go away ? What If the urge to go out just to buy little socks for our child keeps eating me ?" He was almost pleading, looking into your eyes just when you tried to avoid his gaze

"...First, you need to give me good arguments" you replied after sigh, somewhat expressing your guilty. Childe opens a big smile and approaches you once more, A fox look - persuasive "hmm... don't you want hold a mini silly Childe in your arms ?-"

"Cut it off! This is serious!"

"O-okay!" He chuckled softly before silence filled the room, he looked at the floor and then at the main kitchen window "We would practically be building a story…That's not the reason I would want to have a child, in fact you is my reason. Sometimes I feel like you are the reason for my existence… and they would [literally] understand me"

You stayed quiet and walked away from the counter, taking off your apron before gently kissing his lips. He cupped your face, wiping away the small traces of flour on your cheeks. ''I'm convincing, aren't I?'' He whispered and pulled away, taking a few steps backwards as he bit into the cookie he stole while you weren't looking. Bastard. You didn't even have time to shout at him because the man was already on the other side of the apartment; you sighed, but couldn't help but giggle.

You married a idiot, a handsome idiot. Have fun.

#yes guys I like sitcoms it's my obsession #this was actually fun to write!#benni #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #2024 is my year #genshin #childe #tartaglia #Obrigadaeuteamo

223 notes · View notes

lackinglevi · 2 years

Text

yandere!coworker when you’re out sick

cw: yandere behavior, stalking, mention of kidnapping, mentions of being sick, mention of murder.

a/n: first time actually finishing something and posting it, i have no idea how to start doing this shit.

yandere!coworker . . . who just can’t help but wonder if you won’t bother coming into work today when he catches a glimpse of your heavy panting and a chilled towel placed on your pretty forehead from the camera he managed to discreetly place in the aquarium facing your bed, which is just below the window-the exact one he’s learned to expertly open and shut hundreds of times by now without so much as an offbeat breath from your sleeping form.

yandere!coworker . . . who is already hyperventilating at the thought of not being able to see the way your hips move side-to-side while walking up to greet those disgusting customers who recognize-like him-just how intoxicating you are and hope for the chance to get the cute girl’s number. he’s replaying the incident from a couple days ago in his head like a loop. you squeamishly made your way over to him from across the room that night when you knew you wouldn’t be able to get the annoying regular who insists he can "treat you right" off your tail. he’s got it handled really! he’s glad you can trust him to deal with these pesky animals. a princess like you needs to be taken care of, you just need.…him (even if you don’t see that yet), not some greasy-fingered 40-something clinging to the hem of your shorts like a child. you don’t even notice the news headline proclaiming his tragic "suicide" the following week!

yandere!coworker . . . who wonders if he should call out from work and bring you some warm soup? would it be too weird if he showed up on your doorstep? maybe just leaving a small note that reads, "feel better my love<;3 you look divine in your sleep" beside the steaming pot of chicken noodle soup and leaving it at your doorstep would suffice. crouched down on the neighbor's front lawn to ensure you got your meal, he can’t help but notice the way you still look stunning as your limping form appeared behind the keypad-locked door (he’s made sure to get the code just in case you need his help!), the ruffles on your pajama shorts just barely exposing the color of your underwear, you went with red that day. my favorite color, he thought, whether or not you made that choice knowingly, it already had a tent forming in his pants and he took mental note to snatch the pair you had on now, the next morning.

yandere!coworker . . . who can’t handle knowing whether or not your extremely high fever has gone down and spends the entirety of his lunch break monitoring you from the dozens of hidden cameras he’s managed to put in your home during his little "visits." from the way your breath quickens, to the way you mumble silly nothings in your sleep, he’s entranced (but still keeping a worried face). he records everything, not only in his mind, but on his spare flash drive while being squeezed into the bathroom stall. a so-called private moment, to be replayed only by him later on. he can’t help but think about how good he’s going to treat you the next time you’re sick. . . because you’ll be with him! his own wellbeing is of no concern to him, but just think of how much easier it would be to know you were around him 24/7. it’s much less stressful for him to know you’ll always be nearby instead of staying up for nights on end peeled behind bright monitors in a poorly lit room, which is what his routine consisted of for the past couple of months.

yandere!coworker . . . who once he manages to get your nails to stop clawing at his arms and reassures you that you’re only in his basement for your own health (which he’s lined up with all your favorites and everything you may need down there), swears no one knows how to treat their darling better than he does, even if he’s just the dead-eyed coworker that manages to scare off most of the new customers and seems to be around you just a little too much. he can be more than your coworker. . . you'll see that soon!

wc: 711

#yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere #tw dark content #tw stalking #yandere x y/n #yandere scenarios #tw kidnapping #dark content #yandere male #yandere x you #coworkers #imagines #tw sick mention #workplace #male #male x reader #first post #be my frieeennnddd

3K notes · View notes

calmcoldevening · 25 days

Text

You had a bad day [Michael Myers x reader]

You had a bad day, a really bad day. It was cloudy outside, just like you're feeling at the moment. You had a headache after your boss's hour-long screams about how you did the job wrong; you got soaked in the cold rain; besides, your phone was dead.

Finally, you cross the threshold of your house, sighing in amazement. Dirty shoes remain at the doorstep while you slowly walk towards your room, simultaneously pulling off clothes stuck to your body. You climb onto the bed, burrowing into the blanket, and quietly sob. It was disgusting in my heart. It didn't help that you wanted comfort so damn much, but you were alone in the house. You didn't know where Michael was or how he was. He just wasn't there. He had been home quite rarely lately, after all, Halloween had passed not so long ago and Michael was still continuing his 'work'. But you missed him now. You wanted his clumsy, rough, but so warm hugs.

Michael wasn't the best guy. He was always silent, only occasionally nodding or shaking his head in denial, but he never spoke. Michael was never the first to make contact, but only stood in the doorway, looking at you through the black holes of his mask in mute expectation. He always did that when he was hungry.

And yet now you wanted to be the one who was looked after, cared for and loved. You sobbed softly, burying your nose in the cool fabric of the blanket. I wanted to disappear so that it would all be over.

After a good half hour, when you were already on the verge between sleeping and waking, you felt a pair of rough hands on your waist, squeezing your tender flesh. You instinctively flinched at someone else's touch. Your mind was wandering in terror. Exactly until you heard the familiar heavy breathing on the other side of the latex. Michael. It was your Michael. A stone fell from your soul when you breathed a sigh of relief, allowing yourself to relax. All this happened in a split second, when you finally realized that the guy initiated the touch himself. He was hugging you.

"Michael?" You ask quietly. Your tired voice breaks the tense silence like a knife. The man frowns, pulling you closer to him. He doesn't like your voice, the mood you're talking to right now. You were usually gentle and said his name with such love and care that his dead heart melted and seemed to start beating again. In those moments, he wasn't a Boogeyman, he was Michael. Your Michael. But now your voice was quiet, as if you were speaking with some kind of pain. Michael didn't like it. His broad palm began to stroke your stomach with amazing tenderness, while the nose of his mask gently rubbed against your bare neck. Like a kitten.

Transparent droplets of tears appear in your eyes, slowly flowing down your pale cheeks. It seemed that the whole weight of the last few years fell on your shoulders in an instant. You're shaking. The pain in your temples and aching heart make you cry like a little child. Michael tenses up. In an instant, you are turned over and you find yourself with your face pressed against Myers' chest, his chin on top of your head. His hands are holding you to him with a bit of desperation, stroking your back. You grab the fabric of his jumpsuit, so rough and old, like a lifebuoy, burrowing into his body in search of peace and relief. Your eyes are burning with tears, and your chest can't take a full breath of air.

"..it's not my fault.. However," you whisper softly, trying to keep the remnants of your composure, "It wasn't my job.. but the director thought otherwise. He.. He yelled at me. Strongly.. he was so angry, although my colleague is to blame.."

Michael's measured movements gradually slow down until his big hand leaves your back, leaving this place to be torn apart by the cold of the room. But then the loud breathing stops, and after it you feel Michael leaning back, putting something on the bedside table. The next moment, a pair of cracked, dry lips touches your forehead, leaving a rough but so familiar kiss on your skin. You don't dare to look up, but your sobs gradually slow down, turning into muffled sobs. Now the man's hand finds your place on your cheek, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. He is surprisingly gentle, as if you are a real crystal figurine made of pure glass.

You are his heart. Michael had never known what love or caring was before. His childhood and youth in a psychiatric hospital were filled with pain and alienation, from which he learned to hide from the rest of the world behind a solid mask of indifference, behind the mask of a monster. And yet, with you, he wanted to be real. It was difficult, and Michael didn't always know how to behave. But now, seeing you crying, something inside Michael tightened painfully, making him frown and clench his teeth. He didn't know why he was angry and didn't know why he felt that way. The only thing Michael was sure of was that he wanted to punch the face of the one who made you cry.

Finally, you calm down, letting out a nervous sigh from your lungs. Michael tenses up for a moment, but his heart skips a beat when he sees you visibly relax in his arms.. Are you happy? His stroking resumes when he wordlessly tries to persuade you to sleep. You obey, snuggling into his chest and closing your eyes. The man's gaze softens, his lips seem to twitch in a slight hint of a smile.

This will be one of those rare occasions when Michael stays with you all night. But he definitely thinks he should visit your boss the next night.

I just needed a little comfort from my boy. Have a good day ♡⁠

#slashers x reader #michael myers imagine #michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #michael myers

120 notes · View notes