#having a temper is one thing hitting a child is another

[benkeibear]

☰ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬

⧫ Characters: Mikey, Draken, Nahoya

꒰ ͜͡➸ Forgiveness | ꒰ ͜͡➸ Taiju/Hanma/Kazutora | ꒰ ͜͡➸ Ran/Rindou/Sanzu

⧫ Reader: genderneutral

⧫ Wordcount: 2.1k

⧫ Summary: They have sworn to never hurt you - but during an arguement they lose their temper and their hand slips, slapping you across the face.

⧫ WARNINGS: reader getting hit, mentions of abuse, getting called slut and bitch

⧫ A/n: finally a new part to the series. The apology part will be up soon then!

☰ Mikey:

Being married to Mikey was never easy but that's what made it worth it - Nothing beautiful comes easy after all. The first time you met Mikey was way back in your childhood, harboring a crush for him since the moment your eyes met for the first time and a stupid childhood crush turned into more eventually, the feeling mutual. Of course you knew about his dark episodes, but it didn’t bother you much, accepting this side to him as it wasn’t his fault. You were also one of the very few people who can help him snap out of it - but dark impulses or not, Mikey would never lay a hand on you, that’s what he promised. He would much rather cut his own hands off if that's what’s necessary to keep you close to him.

He adored the way you always took care of him, packing him some lunch here and there or simply letting him a bath in when he got home all exhausted. He never needed to say anything it was as if you knew already what was needed and he tried to give you back as much as he could in his own way. Lately however it started to irritate him. The reason was unknown to him but the stress from leading Bonten became too much and no amount of your love could fix this - quite the opposite actually, your love suffocated him.

Of course you got more loving the more stressed he got, trying to make his life easier with taking care of more and more things, even going as far as coming to his office to bring him his favorite lunch or to relieve him of stress in other ways and he usually never minded, even enjoying it when you sat on his lap during meetings. But this time it was different as you opened the door, entering with a timid smile when the men turned their attention to the door opened much to Mikey’s dismay. „What are you doing here?“ he asked annoyed, not even looking at you.

Taken aback by his cold behavior you sighed „I brough lunch for everyone“ you mumbled, your own voice betraying you. Ran started chuckling „aren’t you a sweet one, bringing your husband food like he’s a little child“ he joked, the room erupting in laughs and giggles. As you looked around the room, everyone was laughing or at least smiling - everyone but Mikey who stood up and made his way to where you were standing, holding onto your wrist harshly before dragging you towards the door but you stopped him. „Let go of me“ you spat, trying to free your wrist and he only tightened his hold. „Leave“ he growled, looking you dead in the eyes with no love to spare which made you nod out of fear. „I- i just thought we could spend some time together“ you whispered, feeling your lip starting to quiver which he ignored. Instead Mikey made his way over to the bag you sat onto the table, throwing your homemade food into the trashcan „why do you think I’m rarely home lately, hm? I don’t have the nerve to spend time with you or eat the shit you call food“ he said monotone, everyone falling silent as the scene unfolds in front of them.

It was embarrassing, the way he spoke to you like this in front of everyone and you felt a hot tear sliding down your cheek. „Why did you marry me if it’s so horrible?“ you asked, raising your voice in desperation and he walked over to you again, eyes empty. „I don’t know what I was thinking either. Leave“ he spat, pushing you towards the door but you refused to move, instead you took your ring off, letting it drop to the ground. This action woke him up and he stared at the round object on the floor „fine. Now you’re just another slut I fucked“ he mumbled, your sob that followed clearly irritating him.

All you could see was how his hand raised, connecting with your face in a harsh slap which echoed through the silent room „SHUT UP“ he screamed, not wanting to hear you cry but before he could realize what happened you were already out of the room, Sanzu running after you in utter shock. Mikey went into a fit of rage, throwing everyone out of the room before he completely trashed it - finally breaking down himself as he repeatedly slammed his head onto the floor. He hit you. The realization finally sunk in and he despised himself for it. How could he have done this to the only person who ever truly loved him? The only person that stuck around despite his flaws… you only meant well and he ruined it.

☰ Nahoya:

Before you even got together with the always smiling Kawata you were well aware that he’s a big flirt, relentlessly flirting his way into your heart every time you came to eat at their Restaurant. When you couldn’t take the back and forth flirting between the two of you anymore, you finally agreed on one single date with him just so he would stop… one date turned into many more, falling for the man behind the playful banter. The day you got together he promised, he even swore that he will be loyal, you own his heart and he doesn’t want anyone else because he has the best partner right at his side.

And he was loyal, that much can you say but he was still flirting with every living being. Sure you trusted him not to go further than simple flirting but it was l painful to witness, especially when this woman was all over him, going as far as running her hands over his abs, dangerously close to his crotch. You couldn’t even blame her, he was handsome after all but he made no effort to stop her wandering fingers, enjoying the attention even. When he whispered something in her ear which made her giggle you had enough, stormin off to the kitchen where a clueless Souya became the victim of your little anger fit, trying to reassure you that his brother would never cheat on you, but still it’s not okay that he didn’t stop her. Please don’t make him choose a side, he loves you both so much.

The rest of the day you avoided your boyfriend like the plague, having enough of his „harmless flirting“ since he didn’t even care about how it affected you. Only inside the walls of your home you looked for a conversation, not wanting to go to bed angry. „Hoya… we need to talk“ you mumbled softly, almost scared and his eye twitched ever so slightly at your tone. „If it’s about your little Tantrum, leave it. I don’t want to hear it“ he said serious, turning his attention back to the game he was currently playing. With a sigh you sat down next to him, wanting to rest your head on his shoulder but he shrugged you off, clearly upset with you which made you angry. „You have no right to be angry with me! She was touching you all over and you even enjoyed it instead of stopping her“ you raised your voice, frustrated by his childish behavior. You could see from the corner of his eyes that his smile slowly faded „can you stop being such a jealous bitch? It’s not like I fucked her or anything“ he raised his voice as well now, scaring you further but you had to stand your ground. His game was lost by now since his attention was on you now, waiting for you to cave in and agree or to say something, anything. „I know you didn’t but it hurts to see you like that. You’re my boyfriend and I love you after all“ you mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

A chuckle escaped him „I can go to bed with whoever I please“ he said cold, annoyed by how clingy you were being and his words stung like a knife. Your head snapped up to look at him, face becoming emotionless „Fine. With everyone except for me. It’s over“ you said calmly but he mistook your calm behavior as an invitation to fight, his hand coming down on your cheek with so much force your whole head was throbbing.

Now it was his turn to be concerned, eyes wide open as his hand reached out for you, never quite touching you as you backed away from him, face full of betrayal as you nodded. „It’s over Nahoya Kawata“ you whispered as the tears started to fall, leaving his place as fast as you could and he let you leave, too shocked by his own actions… this was never supposed to happen, he was supposed to love you, touch you gently and instead he broke your heart and raised his hand.

☰ Draken:

Draken always treated you like a princess, supporting you in everything and protecting you from the less nice things in life. His hands would always cup your cheeks with utmost care, as if you would crumble and fall apart if he isn’t that gentle. He might be tall and intimidating to some but to you he was a teddy bear, a gentle giant, he was your Ken. You came into his life when he thought that he could never love again after losing Emma, only to show him that he can love you and still value what he had with Emma.

Perhaps it was the way that you understood what he was going through, not forcing him to anything, instead being a good friend and encouraging him that it’s okay to go out again and date other person - but the supportive friendship ended with a confession from his side, that he doesn’t want just anyone, he wants you. You, who told him it’s okay to still love the woman he lost, she was ripped away from him in a cruel way, knowing that he would still be with her now if that wouldn’t have been the case. You, who understood the pain the grief brought along or the way he still misses her, the way he refuses to let go of her memory.

Filling this void inside of his heart would never work and both of you knew it so you never tried to replace her, instead you encouraged him to not forget her and for that he loved you, you never had to try to be her to gain his love, he loved you simply because you were you.

However all relationships have their rough patches and so did yours when he tried to make you compete with his passed lover, letting you know that she was better in some things and when her name slipped from his lips during some intimate times you drew the line. You became distant right after the incident, leaving him clueless as he didn’t even realize what has happened.

„Emma would have talked to me“ he said frustrated as you avoided to even look at him and something in you snapped. „I can’t take it anymore Ken. Emma Emma Emma. That’s all you said for weeks! I know you loved her and that it’s not easy but you need to stop comparing me to her“ you raised your voice in desperation, hot tears threatening to spill but he wasn’t phased, too caught up in his own head to realize what he’s doing. „Apparently you don’t understand. Emma would have never talked to me this way!“ he raised his voice now too to match yours and you sighed.

„Ken. I am not Emma. I am a different person. Emma is dead so stop comparing me to her, SHE IS DEAD“ You didn’t intend to scream the last part but your frustration took the best of You. What you didn’t expect was to feel the palm of his usually so loving hand connecting to your cheek with a harsh slap, immediately taking a step back he looked at you and his hand in horror.

„Shit i- I didn’t mean to… fuck“ he whispered, shocked by his own actions and the way you were sobbing broke his heart but he couldn’t reach out for you, too scared you would flinch away from him in fear - he never meant to hurt you. „It’s okay Ken. I‘m sorry I wasn’t enough“ you sniffled and slid past him, needing to leave, unable to handle the fact that the man you loved so dearly, the man who put all the stars in the sky for you just hit you.

Networks: @tokyometronetwork

#tokyo revengers x reader #Tokyo revengers angst #mikey x reader #draken x reader #nahoya x reader #mikey angst #draken angst #nahoya angst #manjiro x reader #ken ryuguji x reader #smiley x reader #manjiro sano #ken ryuguji #nahoya kawata #Tokyo Revengers mikey #Tokyo revengers draken #Tokyo Revengers smiley

[bookofbonbon]

the ground beneath our feet - aemond targaryen.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!reader (third person - no name used).

Warnings: Mention of suicide. Angst.

Summary: Your relationship with Aemond has fallen apart as the war wages on and you remain his prisoner.

Prompts: My love for you is as firm as the ground we stand on (Mary & George 2024).

Word Count: 863.

The hem of her dress dragged heavily across the darkened sand. The treacherous sea binding itself to the satin material as it rose to the bottom of her calves, reaching higher and higher as the tide came in. Each step harder than the last as her bare feet sunk further into the unsteady ground. With the shore disappearing, every new current was stronger than the last and threatened to drag her under if she wasn’t careful. 

But careful she was. Though she loved the sea as every Velaryon before her and now has, death by drowning was not high on her list of ways to die. Although, in times - such as right now - when she found herself under the steady gaze of her estranged husband, she wondered if she might let the sea consume her out of spite. Alas, it was too late as sand turned to stone beneath her feet.

Beginning her barefoot ascent to Dragonstone, she walked carefully as she made her way back to the looming castle, weary of the deep cracks in the foundation as the stone crumbled and created an uneven ground of the eroding path.

Careful more so, however, of the Targaryen Prince awaiting her company on the first landing of many. 

“Must you come out here every day?” Aemond drawls once she is within ear shot. 

Quick to anger, she feels her ears grow hot as her head snaps up from the ground. Gaze finally meeting that of the man who insisted on stalking her every move. Not once could he allow her to suffer his presence in silence. There was always something to be said. 

“Must you follow me out here every day? I’m not a child, you need not watch over me as if I am one.”

Her fury however, is met with indifference as Aemond regards her coolly. The one-eyed Prince having grown accustomed to her anger-fuelled outbursts at him- of course, that didn’t make them hurt any less. But, she was predictable and always ready to be angry with him and despite his efforts, there was no balm he could give to soothe it. So, if her anger remained the one thing that she would give then Aemond would take as much of it as he could get.  

“Had you not gotten into the habit of wading further and further into the sea, gazing longingly upon its depths as if you may opt into disappearing into it at any given moment then perhaps I would not feel the need to supervise you as if you were one.” 

There's a beat of silence. A flicker of hurt in her now glassy eyes that she tries to wash away with a thick swallow that Aemond tracks with his one good eye. He didn't like her hurt, he didn't want her pain.

“So, the sooner you begin acting within reason, the sooner you will be left to your own devices. It really is that simple,” he finishes in the hopes of raising her temper but, it does more of the opposite. 

She visibly flinches, Aemond’s dismissiveness of her suffering hitting the soft spot in the back of her throat. 

"Is it?" The question catches him by surprise, his back straightening as he stares unblinking at her. She hadn't endeavoured to ask him anything more than a mocking retort of his own questions since the war started but, there was a sincerity to her voice that demanded an answer. "Is it really that simple?"

“It is.”

Another beat as she silently regards him. 

“Do you love me still?” 

Aemond’s eyebrows furrow, scar pulling inward from the motion as he takes offense at the question. 

“Still? I never stopped. My love for you has always been as firm as the ground we stand on. It is yo-”

“So if you claim to love me so, then am I your prisoner or am I your guest?”

“Guest,” he speaks too fast, lying without thinking. 

“Guest?" she smiles sadly. "Guests may leave as they please, so can I? Can I leave as I please?”

Aemond’s throat dries. The question hangs heavy in the space between them as he flounders for something to say, mouth agape but no sound coming out; the winds whistle and the crashing of the waves the only thing to be heard.

“Answer me, Aemond.” 

The shake of his head is slight but not un-noticeable. 

Aemond didn’t want her pain but it is all he got as it spills over and onto her cheeks.

"I take no pleasure in your captivity," Aemond tells her softly.

But then a sound, a sound he had not heard for a long time - a laugh. It’s slight and it's broken and it's watery and one clearly reserved only for herself but, a laugh nonetheless as she gestures to the ground around them. 

At the deep cracks in the foundation, at the fragile stones that bowed and bent and broke and created an uneven and unstable ground of the eroding path with each passing day.

“Look around you, Aemond,” she sighs. The same sad smile stretched across her lips. “The ground is not firm, it has crumbled beneath our very feet.”

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

bookofbonbon 2024. All rights reserved.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen one shot #aemond targaryen angst #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond x velaryon!reader #ewan mitchell fanfic

[gundawifey]

𝕄𝕒𝕞𝕒'𝕤 𝔹𝕠𝕪

Bo Sinclair x Fem! Reader Smut !18+! !MDNI! Syn. Bo has the tendency to compare his wife to his mom, and she's getting real sick of it. Tags. unprotected sex, p in v, housewife-reader, toxic/dysfunctional marriage, implied verbal abuse, mommy-kink, hurt/comfort, slightest breeding-kink, mommy-issues (Bo's, not child's), Bo & reader's son's name is Billy, (no use of y/n) Word Count. 2.9k

Droplets of scalding oil fly off the heavily greased pan and hit your skin like prickles, shit hurts. Not as much as your eardrums do, though, same as your other arm you aren't using to hold the handle of the pan that's carrying the twenty-five-pound toddler in your other arm that's screaming bloody murder. 

"'Wanna play outside! MORE PLAYTIME!" another shriek of baby babbles wrecks the barrier protecting the shell of your ear. You groan, attempting to bounce Billy while also attempting to not burn the dinner on the pan, yeah that'd hurt more. Bo's been working 'round Ambrose all day, as usual, you don't need two temper tantrums to deal with over a burnt supper.

"God damn.." You suck in a breath when Billy knees into your side and you almost drop the food cooking. He's a growing boy for sure, pudgy small legs of his grown enough to land some fatal kicks. Bo would've laughed, except it's not funny, not when you're the one dealing with the kid all day. "You can't go outside, it's late baby." You try and reason with the kid, but you know, he's a kid.

"No! Wanna play! WANNA PLAY OUTSIDE!" He retorts, it's a nonexistent counter-point, not like he could make one anyway, his vocabulary is as small as he is. 

Another bubble of sizzling oil scars your wrist shaking the pan and you damn near snap at it. All things considered, to say you were overwhelmed is an understatement. The grip you have on Billy snugs and you let go of the panhandle, leaving the frying food on the stove, instead drifting your full attention to Billy's. 

"Enough." You elongate your words, mommy voice pitching deep and you wrap both hands around him, staring him down. "Daddy's gonna be home soon and that means supper then bed for you, no more playtime, 'specially when it's dark out." You scold. Billy whines and tosses around in your arms, dramatic showmanship but doesn't screech back at you anymore, at least. 

At this point, your patience is out the window, and while thank god your ears ain't bleeding, you need the toddler to just calm down so you can get back to finishing up dinner. About to burst, the door swings open first, cutting off the next little lecture you were going to dump on Billy, familiar taps on the old wooded floor, Bo's home. 

His boot turns and he grins at you and Billy, stepping to the kitchen quickly. "How're my babies?" Bo said before he could really process the exact situation he stepped into. 

Turning to face Bo rather than the miniature of him in your arms, your brows furrow at him, and Billy just keeps, whining. Squirming around in your arms while you glare at Bo, not that you're mad at him, okay maybe you are but not justifiably, at the moment you're just mad. Bo doesn't acknowledge it, instead looking around then to the stove. 

Shit, dinner. 

"You burnt supper," He gestures to the now char-blacked mix of ingredients inside the pan, nose and eyes crinkling in disgust at it. Funny, he's seen plenty of burnt shit, like corpses, but god forbid his dinner be burnt. 

You choose to ignore the statement. "Can you take him?" You ask instead, reaching your arms outward for Bo to take Billy out of them. He wails between your arms, tiny nails digging into your skin while you try to hand him to Bo, let him help out. 

"Can't handle him yourself?" Bo replies and doesn't take Billy out your arms, raising a judgemental brow at you. 

"Just take him so I can fix the food." You respond, nudging your chin up in the direction of Billy for Bo to take him, but he doesn't.

"Bo." His name parts from you in a restrained growl. 

Billy is out of your arms into Bo's now, but there isn't any sweetness in the expression Bo gives you when he does. Mercy isn't present in his gesture, taking the kid and giving you another judgy look in lieu of a willing expression as he does. 

Circling between the kitchen to living room Bo rocks Billy over his shoulder, letting him wail it out till he gets exhausted by his fit. Eventually, the whines soften to snores. A momentary silence as Bo rocks him in his arms, you opting out of remaking the earlier failed meal with Billy now sound asleep. For a second your eyes meet Bo's while you wash the burnt remains off of the pan, as he walks off with the sleeping toddler to put him to bed.

"Need help with that too?" He balances himself against the hardwood kitchen counter clicking his tongue from behind you, there's the tiniest amount of condescension in his voice. See that, that shit hurts a lot more than hot oil. Can't control that mouth of his, has a mind of its own, he told you once too many times by now when, if, he'd bother to check up on you after airing out his bullshit onto you. 

"No." You've learned not to engage with whatever got him pissed by now, not with Bo. Vincent doesn't, hell even Lester doesn't, why would you? Would be stupid to. Not like he hits you or anything anyway, just mouths off sick filth with absolutely no filter. Got the worst of tempers but he does enough gutting and beating in his own time when getting Vincent his wax muses.

A mock laugh erupts from Bo and he tilts himself forward to your side of the kitchen, leaning over the sink to look you in the eye. Once again, you ignore the bubbling rage emanating from him, boiling up. But you can handle heat. Spend half your day on the frypan taking care of the boys, even if it means the boys just burn you twice as much. 

Bo sucks in his teeth, and you can feel the room getting warmer, not the arousing kind, Bo's signature can be being a horny fucking mess, but also an angry one. "I don't get it." He scoffs, shaking his head at the unsaid words he isn't even gonna try and hold back on. "It's one kid, for fucks sake."

Now this, you know where this one's going. Reuccering theme of your husbands, the never-ending need to nitpick at your parenting. He bitches about damn well everything, but there are those times you feel the tips of your nerves itch all wrong, like a sixth sense at this point when he's about to spit those abhorrent words. 

"My Mama managed fine with three so," Ah, there it is, your least favourite words to ever grace God's green earth. Broken record at this point with how often Bo brings it up. 'My Mama never-' 'My Mama did-' Words that seemed to toss any left sanity you had in you into the fire you thought you had grown used to, but no you didn't. Because it burns more hellish each time it's said. 

"I'm sure she did." Your teeth grit while you speak feigning little control as you try and remain docile, not to fan the flame any further. 

"Shouldn't be burnin' dinner, you know your way 'round a fire." He adds, voice raising with each sentence. Damn straight you know your way around a fire, dealing with Bo's frenzies all the time, you've gone numb to the temperature he inflicts with his tongue.

"Billy was having a tantrum." You gently defend.

"You call that a tantrum?" Bo snorts, taunting the notion. "Small lil hissy-fit at best, darlin'. My Mama ain't never burnt no meals over my tantrums." 

"Well, I'm not your Mama." You snarl cutting him off, pupils jolting away from the dish you were scrubbing to Bo's. Sick and tired is one way to describe the crazy you were experiencing right now at Bo's statements. A band snapping in the kitchen between you and him 

The edge of his shoulders stiffens into a line, and for the first time since you've known him, you think you've burnt him instead. A woefully pathetic air casts in his over his eyes, turning pitiable. "No, you're not." He replies as if he's testing the words, tasting them in his mouth as he verbalizes them, and they taste bittersweet sort of wrong. An unfortunate truth. 

Not sure if you're more shocked at yourself, or Bo right now you simply pause at the sight. Bo is, in fact, not yelling back at you. Shutting you up in some pseudo-volume battle that'd sure to have woken up anyone asleep in the house. Instead, he just looks at you like a kicked dog, not too far from what he was, his life considered.

The air goes cold, bedsheets feeling extra plush around you, that sort of featherlight coolness engulfing you on the bed, odd. Rarely cold in Ambrose, even in the dead of night. Much less soft, you're more used to suffocating in heat, wax requires it to meld and shape, And Bo pours it out in all his hot-headed tantrums you get burdened with. 

Bed post creaking you look over your shoulder from your side and the familiar dip on the other side has Bo there finding his usual spot beside you. 

This isn't hellfire hot, this is limbo, off-putting quietude, yet not tranquil. A second passes and Bo just stares off at the rusted ceiling. Did you break Bo? Did you fuck it up this time, like seriously fuck it up with what you said? More disturbed by the blue tune of silence than hollering, you turn completely to him. 

"Uhm," You start, unsure of where you're going with your question. "You still mad at me?" If he was, you're sure you would've known it, Bo doesn't shy away from his anger or showcasing it. Still, you question. 

"I'm not mad at you, darlin'." Bo sighs, shutting his eyes to avoid yours, wrinkles of the eyelid creasing in some kind of negative emotion.

Gently rolling to Bo's side you land atop his chest pressing your cheek flat against it, hearing the thump of his heart, familiarized with it by now. His arm finds place around your side rubbing your back instinctively. "Just, you know, my Mama... My Mama was real different than ya. Different to how you're with Billy."

There's an internal tick being set off because you've heard him sing this song too many times, about his Mama. Not that you had anything against the lady, bless her for raising your man, and bless your man for respecting her, it's sweet. But it's the constant comparing that had you getting all worked up.

"Different to how you're with me..." He adds, swallowing back a lump, and perhaps if you haven't gone crazy officially, a tear as well. So, this is not where you were expecting the conversation to go. Bo's not mad, not picking at you for the expectation his mother set. 

"You're so, so patient. With Billy, with me." He praises, he's praising you. Not mad, not disappointed, grateful. "Don't hurt me, at all, only," He groans, the bridge of his brow pinching, eyes still shut as he speaks. A vulnerability in his tone. "You only do me good. Make me feel good."  He means it all, with complete genuineness. Almost as though he's shocked at you for it, 'cause Bo's never seen you hit Billy, the kid's only got scars from scruffy tree branches that scrapped his knees. Bo's are all too vivid, leather and duct tape that's no longer there but still stings in his wrists and ankles. Never knew a woman could get so gentle, not with how his mama was, yet you were.

You smooth a hand over his chest where you lay, up to his cheek, hovering over his waterline wiping off the tears before they've fallen with a soft motion. "Shh, Bo." You soothe.

"Christ darlin'. You're such a good Mommy..." Bo murmurs, releasing a shaky breath, opening his eyes to look at you. Disbelief apparent from the quake rumbling through the way he speaks right now. He mumbles something else intangible and pulls you flush closer to him. 

Sweat salts your skin, snapping hips up and down against each other room re-enveloped with familiar warmth while you swallow him whole. 

"O-Ohh.. S'good, such a good boy, Bo." You warble in mixed moans, absolutely drenching the sheets under the round of your ass Bo pounding languidly into your gushing cunt. Tips of your finger pushing indents into the muscle of his back. 

Fervor spilled through his mind as you tugged him down closer, pussy sucking him in the same. Pulling then pushing his cock by the full till the tip nearly slipped out then slamming in deeper. "Fuck yeah, feels good Mommy? I makin' you feel so good, huh?" He purred, dipping his head into the crook of your neck breath fanning right over your ears fuzzing out the sound of his balls slapping against your ass. "Oh fuuuck, Grippin' me like crazy, Mommy." 

Saliva doused into the crook of your neck, Bo sucking in the skin and lapping at it. Wanting to kiss you whole, fuck you full. Maybe fill you with another baby, because you've done so well with the first he's given you. Another time, though, right now all that swelled was his cock lodged deep into you and awe in his mind. 

You tossed your legs around his waist, shivers twisting the inside of your abdomen, Bo fucks good every time. His mouth is so much more lovable stuck on the sensitive inches of your flesh making out hickeys and love bruises rather pissy words. "Close! Mommy's s-so close!" You gasp, tugging him closer, close as can be so his body heat can burn you right, the way you deserved it. 

Feeling you pull him till bodies melded like molten wax, and your insides warming his cock, clenching in a steady increase, Bo hugged his arms around your waist. Pelvis slamming harder, quicker against yours, increased pace jackhammering your cunt. 

"Cum f'me. Come on, Cum for me, pretty Mama. Cum all over my cock Mommy," His voice mumbled in a strained groan, bordering a whimper, heavy breathed against the sticky spot he'd left into the corner of your neck and shoulder while he pushes you to climax.

Felt good to burn like this, to be loved by Bo. Your brain turned to mush and white stars of bliss flooded from your spasming cunt to your brain. "Fuck, Ohh yes! Cumming! Cumming!" Gripping his cock so tight he almost came right there and then, but graced himself while he plunged deep into you restlessly, riding out the onslaught of euphoria that burned your veins. 

You were fucked out, that much was certain, first orgasm hit hard, harder than any words he could beat you with. Already stressed out day, Bo fixing that for you, dutiful husband the such. Rolling his hips in slower motions as you calm down from your high, your thighs clamp around his hips feeling the sting of sex continue passed your orgasm.  

"Stay wimme Mommy, gimme one more, yeah?" Bo tilted his head, raising it so it hovered over your forehead, staying atop you with a lustful adoration in his eyes. He was lucky, that much was certain. Not much luck in his life, crazy dead daddy and mommy, favourite freak of a twin brother, got you though. He got himself the sweetest baby mama a man could ask for. That shit is the best luck if he'd ever felt it.

"One more, sweet Mommy, and I'll fuck ya full. Mhm?" He cooed, pressing his lips to yours and snapping his cock into you, regaining his previous pace as your pussy relaxed around him. Building his thrusts back into quickness while hugging you close, kissing you with love.

You warmed impossibly hot, like an unbridled flame. Clinging to him while he does to you, because you're his everything, because you're his wife, his mommy, his darling. "O-Oh, Oh god Mommy, gonna... Gonna-" Bo choked out, cock throbbing in you with each slap of his balls against your ass. body churning and tense fucking you quick as could be.

"Me too- Oh fuck!" You felt it coming harder than a tidal wave this time, Bo nearing his as well. Your eyes rolled behind your skull and Bo slammed his lips to yours again to shut his own pornish moans from spilling out, your pussy driving him to pure rapture.  

Ecstasy ran through you two's bodies and he delved his cock straight into you in a final thrust of needed high, balls tightening and spilling deep into you with strangled cries of pleasure filling your lips that parted his. Teeth clattering messily against each other while he rode out his high in your spasming pussy, you washing into the second state of bliss the night cumming hard around his cock.

Bo could be a horrid husband at times, but God be damned, was he a grateful one. So grateful, wanted to send you to heaven, and push you through it over and over. Hoping to keep the fire churning in you forever. 

But for now, his dick was spent. And his Mommy was already exhausted as be taking care of his kid all day, and also getting fucked stupid by him. He pulled out with a grunt and flopped to his side in the bed. "Supper would've been good, now." He mumbles in a snort, wrapping his loose-jointed arm around your waist and rubbing a hand over your bare curves.

"Don't even start.." You grumble softly, before letting out a soft giggle, the type that makes him go stupider than emptying his balls in you. A dumb grin overtook his face and he smiled at you, rolling slightly in the bed to face you. 

"Sorry, darlin'." Sorry's only happen after Bo fucked you, not after he yells, never after he scalds you with words. But you'll take it, if it meant getting dicked down by the best man in Ambrose. 

"It's okay." You reply in a soft sigh, nuzzling against him. His perfect Mommy.  

#bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair smut #bo sinclair imagine #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #!gwrites!

[a-d-nox]

web of wyrd: how to identify fame/popularity

the top left corner of the wyrd web can tell you about some of your talents/interests, the core tells you who you truly are, and the flow/career is like the midheaven of the wyrd web realm. that being said, these are basic premises; in no way does one number mean a single thing. each number can mean different and multiple things. these are simply my observations (also observations are not destined to be true; they are simply possibilities / increased odds). if you want to learn more about the major arcana, which is the basis for the web's numbers, click here!

acting

3 (the empress): they are the real star of the show - the camera loves them

11 (justice): they can really step into a persona and become a character

artist

3 (the empress): they have an eye for detail; they are used to sitting still and observing the world. they have a creative instinct to creative because they are venus ruled

18 (the moon): they are very abstract visionaries and creators

breakdown / postmortem

13 (death): this is typically an unexpected occurrence that captures the attention of the masses

16 (the tower): famous breakdowns and even more sudden deaths

20 (judgment): they have a reawaken as to who they are that capture the world's attention

director

12 (the hanged man): the artistic eye for sure; it's because they are a neptunian that they can make their vision into a reality

fashion

11 (justice): i don't how often i can repeat this before everyone gets annoyed, but the fashion of 11 people is just iconic - they are trendsetters

infamous

16 (the tower): these people tend to be popular/famous for something morally unsavory

influencer

8 (strength): the giantess is the guiding hand that in encourages others

literally anything

10 (the wheel of fortune): these people are the type to blow up overnight and get "lucky" by becoming famous

17 (the star): they tend to have ups and downs in their time for popularity/fame but in the end they remain memorable in a lot of people's minds

21 (the world): tends to represent someone with a lot of rewards and fame after a long period of time

nepotistic

14 (temperance): the angel pours one cup into another - like a parent's talent into their child

one hit wonder

22 (the fool): these people tend to fall as soon as rise (due to being uranus ruled) - they take a single big leap then they are good

politics/legals

4 (the emperor): they can be great leaders - they use their powers for the greater good and to better the world around them

7 (the chariot): they tend to make great speeches that inspire the masses

11 (justice): they tend to be more wrapped up in the legal end of things or they are moderates in the political realm

religious leader

5 (the hierophant): they are often seen as wise and can gain a lot of worshipers/followers

research/educational

5 (the hierophant): they tend to make incredible discoveries that further the world around them

19 (the sun): they tend to make a discovery that changes the world around them

singer

3 (the empress): they have a magnetic energy that makes others want to listen to them and watch them preform their creativity

4 (the emperor): they tend to be great rappers and tend to make great diss tracks haha

6 (the lovers): these people are known for their sound and their appearance (they are considered gorgeous)

writer

6 (the lovers): this card is gemini ruled so writing is definitely their thing

9 (the hermit): these people can make their own world - they are good at illustrating their thoughts

12 (the hanged man): they are very good at multi-POV writing and making an idea very realistic

like what you read? leave a tip and state what post it is for! please use my "suggest a post topic" button if you want to see a specific pac/pile next. if you'd like my input on how i read a specific card or what i like to ask my deck, feel free to use the ask button for that as well.

click here for the masterlist

click here for more web of wyrd related posts

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices.

© a-d-nox 2024 all rights reserved

#astrology #astro community #astrology tumblr #tarotdaily #tarot witch #tarot art #daily tarot #rider waite tarot #tarot deck #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #matrix of destiny #matrix of fate #wyrd web #web of wyrd

[finalgilmoregirl]

☆ random thoughts about what i think being in a relationship with mike would be like :

a/n : no gender specified, no y/n + no mentions of the actual movie plot

he’s actually pretty quick to open up after the first couple of dates. i think he would want you to know his situation as soon as possible and understand what you might be getting yourself into if the relationship has any chance of becoming long term.

he also does it for abby’s sake, he doesn’t want you to meet her and accidentally say the wrong thing, or be surprised by their situation so much that you get scared off, leaving poor abby confused.

likes watching horror movies, but only over the top, borderline goofy ones (i.e. nightmare on elm street, child’s play, gremlins, signs). he gets fidgety and even anxious during any where the antagonist is human, some might hit a bit too close to home.

cheesy low budget slashers have a pass. the acting is bad enough and the plot is predictable enough to keep him entertained but not lead him to spiral. those and again, goofy ones are when he pulls out the “here, i’ll protect you” move about fifteen minutes in, of course just wanting an excuse to hold you.

he’s the worst at grocery shopping. he always goes when he’s hungry which leads to too many snacks and frozen meals. and as much as you love the convenience, you know he and abby can’t live like this. which leads to you pushing the cart around while he holds the list you made and grumbles things like “when are we even going to eat rice?” and “i don’t need all of these vegetables, they’re just going to go bad.”

in the end, he’s grateful. and abby is too now that you introduced them to the world of easy to make side dishes.

stealing his clothes duh!! he could groan about how he’d been looking for that hoodie or his sweatpants and sometimes even socks (yes even the ones with the holes in them) but at the end of the day he’ll allow it because he loves the way his clothes look on you, and you love smelling like him.

like i mentioned earlier, he lives for touch. it’s something he didn’t know he was missing until he met you. then it’s all he wants when he’s around you. it can be you running a hand through his hair, or him pulling your back into his chest with an arm around your shoulder.

he loves forehead touching. he loves it when you do it as a way to cheer him up, making a silly face, causing him to pull away and giggle into your neck. he loves it on late nights where he’s just woken up from another bad dream and you do it to calm him down, allowing him to match his breath with yours. he loves it after a moment of passion, and as he stares into your eyes all he sees staring back is pure adoration. it’s the intimacy in the close proximity that he never gets tired of.

he has a temper but it’s hard to blame him. it comes from a place of anxiety, where any high stress situation causes a fight or flight response in him. he hates it about himself, and even after you forgive him after an argument for snapping at you or abby or for shutting you out at a time when he shouldn’t, he still kicks himself for it.

abby usually taking your side in debates just to spite her brother. even if its about something she has no knowledge about, you're in the right! which usually leads to mike jokingly mumbling about how much she likes you more than him.

finally, date nights!!! and as much as mike likes the idea of going out for drinks or for dinner and a movie, he and his wallet favor a more intimate night in at his home. these kinds of dates are few and far between, since its hard for mike to find someone he trusts enough to send abby away with. but on the rare chance that she gets invited to a friends slumber party just a block over, he takes it and spends the night drinking and laughing with you over a plate of your guys' favorite take out orders.

-----------------------------

hope you enjoyed! ☆ requests are open btw

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #kelly : mike thoughts 💭

[attapullman]

That Abbott Boy | Rhett Abbott

GIF by delopsia

Summary: You and Rhett have stayed in each other's orbit since you were children. But what if there's something more than just friends?

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings & Notes: Rhett Abbott x f!reader, brief mentions of underage drinking and violence, fluffy and angsty (?), childhood friends, Rhett's the town whore and likes boobs, bad mouthin' Perry Abbott, destruction of pinatas, 18+ as always. Happy Halloween, witches! You can play your tricks, but here's your treat!

Children flooded the barn, your daddy’s ranch overtaken by sugar-hyped little hands and giggles as your classmates pet the horses and pretend to drink from the trough. Set up outside were balloons and presents, marking the momentous occasion of your birthday. The sun shines bright upon your cheeks as another year blesses you.

Your ma wrangles the hyperactive group and announces the piñata. A cheap, store-bought thing, meant to resemble a puppy dog but failing. Your classmates scramble to line up, eager to be the one who breaks open the winnings of more sugar. And as you turn to lead the battle, you see that Abbott boy.

Rhett. Cerulean eyes hidden under his baseball cap. That thin smile that says more than his mouth ever does. With only a decade of life under his belt, he comes across like there’s more layers to him than anyone could know. He’s affectionately stroking his hand along the nose of your mare, soothing her after too many grabby fingers. Too distracted by his care to notice everyone else has left the barn.

“You coming?” Your voice is small in the old building. His gaze snaps to you from his thoughts, running his hand along the horse’s flank before following you outside. You’re accurately aware of him trailing behind you. His heavy footfalls into the dusty ground. A dusty rose spreading along his cheeks when your eyes accidentally meet.

Joining the group and taking your rightful place at the front of the line, your ma wraps a bandana around your eyes and twists you twice. Orientation lost as hands straighten your shoulders toward the misshapen papier mâche. The burden of embarrassing yourself overwhelms your small frame, but you swing with purpose. You’re the birthday girl and you will knock it down!

Swing one. Miss. Swing two. Miss. Swing three. Miss.

Rules dictate your turn is over and you hand the blindfold and bat over to the next child in line. Swing. Miss. Swing. Hit. It’s a compilation of hits and misses as the line dwindles. Next to bat is Rhett. You give him a small smile as he steps up. He takes the wood between his hands, shoulders squaring to the challenge as he runs his fists over the woodgrain. His eyes are focused, a boy with only one goal.

Swing one. Miss. Swing two. Miss. Swing three. Hit! A bit of paper dislodges from multiple blows and a few treats fall to the ground. The next kid in line holds their hand out expectantly for the bat. But that Abbott boy has other plans.

Thwack. Thwack. Two more hits directly to the piñata, splitting it and upending every sweet in its arsenal. Children flock to the ground as they pick up as many as possible. Rhett’s face is proud - the winner of the arbitrary game - and he bends to pick up a chocolate.

The kid not picking up candy? You. A slow heat rises from your chest and the tips of your ears flood a rosy color. How dare he cheat! On your birthday! Squaring your shoulders, your ma catches you quickly. She knows your temper. Gives you a shake of her head and advises you to spend your energy on other ventures.

“That Abbott boy is gonna be trouble, just you wait and see.”

_____________________________________________________________                                                                                        

The church is stifling, holding the hot July air hostage. Sunday best sticks to sweaty skin. Programs are used as makeshift fans to create a breeze. The preacher drones into the still air that threatens to choke the life from this joyous union.

How Perry Abbott found someone to marry him is beyond you. Aloof one moment, violent the next. You saw what he did to Trevor Tillerson at the skating rink all those years ago. His brother may be a piñata cheater, but Perry was actual bad news. This poor blonde woman must be missing some grey matter to think this was a good idea. 

The preacher finally starts saying words you recognize (“Do you take this man…”)  and the church doors open as Perry kisses his bride. The wash of fresh air clears your head and allows you to be happy for the couple. Love is in the air!

At the reception you mingle with a few girls from class. Only a year until you escape this hellhole. Wabang is nothing but girls turning into their God-fearing mothers and boys becoming their drunken cowboy fathers. Before you’ve hit drinking age most of them will be married, taking over their families homesteads and pushing out children. You’re not even eighteen and yet this is the dream floating through every classmates mind. Your skin crawls at the idea of settling down with someone like a Tillerson.

Food and dancing is outside - thankfully - and various members of the community are congratulating the newlyweds. Your own parents are wrapped in conversation with the sheriff and your neighbors. Land disputes are as frequent as phone bills here. A classmate asks if you’re going to the ol’ back roads that evening. Wink wink. You barely begin to answer her when a laugh carries over from the church, a group of high school boys leaning against the cracked siding, swigging from smuggled beers over quiet conversation.

You catch Rhett Abbott’s eye. He smirks back over the lip of his bottle, a twinkle in his eye. Good money could be bet that he’s been drinking since this damn service began. He draws the bottle away and holds a finger to his lips, his smile quirked to the right as he asks you to keep his secret. As if you’d ever tell. 

His eye slips into a wink. God, he is such a flirt.

Since that fateful piñata day, you and Rhett have stayed in the same orbit. Although, while you’ve remained studios with your head down to ensure an easy exit from the town, he seems to always be mixed in something. Too many nights at the ol’ back roads, scrapes from roughhousing with friends, more than one girl making insinuations the next morning in the girls restroom. But that Abbott boy has always been good to you. A tip of his cap when he walks by you in town, feed sack in hand. That slow smile when he returns the pencil you dropped in class. Last fall the two of you had spent the afternoon sprawled in the sunshine behind the school, skipping out on government because the government can go fuck itself. And it was too nice a day to be cooped up in a concrete building.

Your friendship was easy. Rhett soothed the tension in your brain, that drawl of his like music as he went on about ranch work and dreams of riding bulls one day like his dad. You were going to miss him when you left. 

Your head shakes to indicate silly boy and you return his naughty grin so he knows he’s still in your good graces. He turns back to the group, and you miss him looking back at you when you join your parents.

______________________________________________________________

Staring out from behind the curtain, you see your parents and other relatives of your family sat near the front of the audience. Holy hell, this is real.

You’ve been dreaming of high school graduation since the day Wabang lost its appeal. That printed diploma claiming that you paid your dues in this town and the world is your oyster now. 

The dinky auditorium they held graduation in each year was filled with the sound of chairs scraping and families clapping each other on the back for their children’s newest accomplishment. Behind you, your graduating class is alive with nervous titters.

A hand slides across your waist, high enough to not raise question, and Rhett peeps his head next to yours. His newly grown stubble is neater than usual, and his curls are actually combed. You lift a hand to smooth the collar of the shirt that’s crumpled under his graduation robe. You’re so proud of him for making it here.

You follow his eyes and catch where his family is sitting. Royal and Cecelia both deep in conversation with their neighbors, Perry and his little family occupied in their own bubble. What’s the daughter’s name again? Ashley? Anna? Amy? You don’t worry too much, she’ll come up soon enough in conversation with Rhett. Not even two and she’s the center of their household. He adores her.

The two of you share a smile as you acknowledge the moment. So many of your shared dreams have centered around this day and what it means. Finally leaving this godforsaken town. His eyes twinkle with the promise of leaving his family behind. That Abbott boy is finally going to make his own path. You’re so fucking proud.

A microphone crackles. The ceremony is commencing. Rhett squeezes your hip excitedly before finding his spot at the front of the line. Let the beginning of your lives begin.

______________________________________________________________

The door squeaks open, letting a blast of icy air flood the bar. Patrons let out their individual noises of complaint. The Handsome Gambler fills with more bodies, huddling around booths as holiday greetings are exchanged. Yet another Christmas in Amelia County. You’ve avoided the town the last few years, but when your roommate’s parents took a last-minute cruise she begged you for a “traditional cowboy Christmas”. She had been disappointed that your parent’s ranch didn’t look out of a House Beautiful spread.

She’s delighted by The Handsome Gambler though. The “quaint” charm as sun-beaten men drink their Jameson and Rainier. You’ve already seen several people you know, raising your chin in hello. 

But it’s the one face that hasn’t returned your greeting that plagues your mind. Sat beside a buckle bunny blonde who cannot keep her hands off his arms - Do you blame her? That ranch is doing everyone favors - and you can’t seem to catch his eye. You haven’t seen him since your final goodbye three years prior, your daddy’s truck full with your things. 

You’ve heard about him though. One of your parents always has something to say about that Abbott boy. 

Ridin’ bulls like his ol’ man. Pretty damn good too.

Seen him with half the girls in town. He’s gon’ get one of ‘em pregnant if he don’t watch out.

Always in a brawl, limpin’ around town. Never know if it’s a bull or person throwing the punches.

No one ever talks about how Rhett still lives at home, in his plaid bedroom at the end of the hall. Never making it out of Wabang like he so desperately wanted.

You glance over one last time. His head ducks down. What happened to him?

______________________________________________________________

That next summer you get stuck in Wabang when your car won’t start after visiting your parents. The mechanic in town gives you a week minimum for the part to come in. Theresa at the library offers you a few shifts of your high school job, something to pass the time until you can get to your real job a few hours away.

The last few days have been pleasant, mostly elders in the community and the odd teenager whose homestead doesn’t have dial-up. The monotony of checking in battered paperbacks feels good. When you had a moment you spruced up the children’s display with summer books you had enjoyed as a child. 

“H’ya.” The distantly familiar voice startles you. Your heart thumps against your chest as your gaze raises to two wide blue eyes and a sheepish smile. “D’nt mean to startle ya.”

Next to him is Amy, nearly as tall as the stack of books she’s carrying. She’s participating in the daily summer program led by Theresa. Every day this week a member of her family has dropped by to pick her up, stopping by to inquire about your folks or your life away. Your mouth goes dry after so long away from the presence of that Abbott boy.

You go along scanning Amy’s books, listening to her prattle on about this and that. She’s an inventive kid, the stories are never dull. Rhett keeps rubbing the back of his neck, that strong bicep hidden underneath a shirt stained with pasture mud. You suppress the urge to tuck an unruly strand back into his cap. But that privilege died years ago.

The two leave with a polite goodbye and your head is reeling. Especially the next morning when Amy strides through the library doors chattering excitedly, her uncle on her heels balancing two coffees. Dropping her off with the other kids with a tap of his elbow. You make yourself busy arranging a shelf when he turns toward you.

He slides the styrofoam cup toward you. You can smell the cinnamon, exactly how you take it. 

“S’for you.” A tension breaks between you two as you accept the coffee, tentatively raising it before enjoying that first sip. Your lips curl in a smile as that warm feeling envelopes your entire being. 

“Thanks. How’d you know I’d want a coffee?” While you know the answer is because he’s thoughtful, he mumbles something about Amy and his mother and a barista. Your smile lets him know that you’re thankful regardless of the reason. 

There’s so many things you want to ask him. What is his life like? Is bull riding everything he imagined it to be? Why didn’t he leave Wabang?

But before you can launch into that conversation, he’s excusing himself back to the ranch, Carhartt jacket out the door before you can ask if he wants to grab a drink later.

Every morning as Amy walks in for the summer program, Rhett trails behind her. A coffee in each hand. Drops it off without any explanation, just a smile so hard to read it plagues your mind. 

This goes on until the part for your car finally comes and you can leave this town - and the people in it - behind you.

______________________________________________________________

You’re running late. Another Wabang wedding that has eaten up your weekend with the drive you loathe. There’s a pair of heels and a lipstick in your glovebox for “emergencies” after forgetting and wearing your dusty work boots and a slip dress at the last one. The “Entering Amelia County” sign whips by as you toe the speed limit.

Pulling into the church lot, you’re thankfully not too late. You slip into the back and hope your parents don’t notice, but you’re easy to miss amongst the ten gallon hats.

Vows exchanged. Preacher preaches. A kiss to top it off. And now you’re back where you were ten years previous, standing to the side of the dance floor catching up with classmates while Rhett Abbott drinks a beer leaning against the church.

The biggest difference is that he’s a man now. He’s no longer that Abbott boy. All sinful broad shoulders and muscle from hours of labor. Skin tanned and scarred from sun exposure and barbed fences. That damn brace on the hand not nursing a beer. And instead of cracking jokes with the other twentysomething cowboys, his focus is solely on you.

Neither of you makes a move to connect, letting your gazes linger as you stay with your respective parties. The afternoon fades into dusk. The string lights at the edge of the reception area come to life, offering an amber glow to the increasingly drunken crowd. Even you have enjoyed more than your fair share of whiskey. When the ol’ timers leave, the festivities really begin.

“Care t’dance?” He’s drunk, sliding up behind you smelling of leather, malt, and cinnamon. You know he has three left feet, but when those warm hands wrap around your waist, any worries about your toes promptly disappear.

He’s intoxicatingly close. You’ve never been this close, touched this much. Just quick hip squeezes and the occasional shoulder push, the odd side hug after high school afternoons sitting amongst the grass. At this distance you can see that his eyes have dark spots of indigo. That one eyebrow dips lower than the other. At this distance you fully realize how attracted to him you are.

Rhett’s always been a friend, nothing more. Someone who shared the dream to leave. Another animal lover. The piñata cheater who ruined your tenth birthday. So why did he smile always make you heart flutter?

His dancing is as bad as anticipated. He steps on your toes every few steps, muttering “S’ry” each time. Eventually succeeds to just swaying back and forth, letting you take the lead. His blush feels like a reward, your favorite bashful cowboy.

The music slows to a hauntingly sweet melody and you allow your head to fall to his chest, already missing watching his beautiful face. There’s a wall between you two, unspoken and heavy. It weighs on your chest. Where are the words to express what you’re thinking?

Before you can summon the words - the courage? - to say what you want, the song ends. Panic floods you. And you’ve always been one to choose flight over fight. An excuse tumbles from your lips and suddenly you’re fleeing the makeshift dance floor as quickly as those godforsaken heels will allow. 

The blood is rushing in your ears, too loud to hear your name called out behind you. The church is too full of partygoers. Your feet turn toward your car and the solace it provides. 

He catches up to you in the parking lot, his legs longer and faster. Takes the creamy white Stetson off his head while he catches his breath. He didn’t realize you were so fast. 

The two of you are suddenly alone for the first time in years, no distractions  to disrupt the brewing emotions. Your back to the driver’s seat door, eyes alight with confusion. Him towering over you with the kindest expression painted over his features.

“Why’d’you run?”

His breath washes over you, warm and comforting. Every instinct tells you to run, to get away from the rush of emotion consuming your soul that has been building for a decade. But then…fingers intertwine with your own, a soothing thumb over your palm. You’re reminded he’s still that Abbott boy, smelling like trouble but gentle as the prairie grass. You have no need to worry about being vulnerable with him.

A deep breath shudders through you. You break eye contact to answer his question. “Got a little too wrapped up in the moment and forgot I’m not one of your buckle bunnies.” 

He lets out a hesitant laugh. Hands released as he cups your chin to look into your eyes. Such pretty eyes.

“I’d trade every one of ‘em for a moment with you.” It’s silent as both your breaths cease, his heartbeat vibrating between you. Your eyes plead for more reassurance, more proof that you’re more than another conquest for a man with too many trophies. He licks his lips. “You remember that piñata?”

You nod. Hard to forget being that mad.

“S’ry for cheatin’. I wanted t’be the one t’get the candy out. Impress ya, show I was the best.” He chuckles. “I’m s’stupid. You like rules. And probably wanted the candy yerself. Surprised ya didn’t kick my ass.”

“I wanted to.” Another low laugh escapes his lips.

“Figured you’d want nothin’ to do wit’me and was good with it for a while, but the summer you grew tits? Came back t’school and nearly passed out. So self-conscious and kept coverin‘em. Wanted to smack your arm, I couldn’t look away. Luke Tillerson brought ‘em up on the way home ’n I punched ‘im in the jaw. That’s when I knew I liked ya. Wanted you to be mine.”

That dirty cowboy. Naughty smiles exchange as you both glance down at your chest, much more developed and pushed up thanks to underwire. He blinks hard to clear his mind.

“When you left, figured t’was time to move on. Beat myself up for never gettin’ the courage to leave too.” Your hand slides up his forearm, sharing comfort for such a raw nerve. He smiles his thanks and runs his own hand up your arm, resting a thumb on your shoulder. “Thought maybe y’were back perm’nently when I saw ya a’the library.”

“It was just until my car was fixed.”

“Know that now. But a guy can dream, right?” The wall has completely crumbled now, your bodies close, breaths intermingling. Your mouth opens to speak, to fill the space.

The words are stopped by a warm cowboy mouth fitting over yours. 

The stars align. Planets shift. The cars leaving the party around you fade into the distance. All that remains is Rhett and everything he offers.

Maybe Wabang is worth it after all.

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhettt abbott fan fiction #rhettt abbott fic #outer range fan fiction #rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott

[yukuoo]

hiiiiiii 💗

can i request a nagumoxreader fic where reader is in love with nagumo’s tattoos (BECAUSE I SO AM) and nagumo teases her about it and she’s kinda so done with him but she stills gets flustered? does this make sense idk!!

it’s ok if you don’t wanna do it tho thx anyways <3

I don't know if this is what you were looking for so I deeply apologize if it isn't!

Nagumo x fem!reader

Warnings: cussing, mentions of death, sexual jokes

𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒

Having been partnered up with Nagumo meant that you were constantly a victim of his pranks and irritating personality. Along with the many mysteries of him despite knowing him since your JCC days.

No one knew much about him, other than him being a master of disguise and a member of the order. Nagumo was a man like no other.

If you had to describe him in a sentence...

A child stuck in a man's body.

You were so done with his shit— If you weren't a member of the order as him and didn't want to be teased by him by your short temper— you would have killed him and fed his corpse to the dogs by now. It was quite the mystery to everyone how he even considered you his friend with all the glares and insults you threw at him. Not only that, but also how he was alive by the same things.

Despite his child like attitude when it came to annoy others, you would be lying if you said he wasn't attractive.

He was in fact one of the few hot men you had laid eyes upon. His facial features, hair, height— his body. Only a fool would deny his looks, and you were no fool. If there was something that called your attention about him..

His tattoos.

His fucking tattoos

You would have definitely hit if he wasn't so annoying to you all the time.

"C'mon, I haven't even done anything to bother you and you're already giving me glares!" Nagumo poked your cheek with his signature cheeky smile.

"Keep poking my cheek and I'll rip off your fingers." You glared at him with arms crossed on your chest.

"Scary!" He didn't stop, he knew you only had but empty threats.

You scoffed, not in the slightest amused while swatting his hand away from your cheek. Your eyes glanced discreetly at his fingers, seeing the numbers tattooed on them. You could only wonder how many more he had, was his whole body covered in them? Was it only his arms and legs that had tattoos?

The tall man caught onto your staring, he followed your gaze out of curiosity only for his eyes to fall onto his fingers. He stayed quiet for a bit before looking up at you.

"I didn't know you had a thing for hands!" He spoke rather loudly, making you snap out of the trance.

"THAT'S NOT IT?!" Your face turned bright red, attempting to shove his face away with your hand after he had said that so loudly despite just being you both.

After finishing a mission earlier than expected, you both just went to a hotel and chilled until someone came to pick you up.

Nagumo managed to dodge your hand in time while laughing, his right hand grabbing onto your rest. "Then? What's on your mind?" Even with a smile, you didn't miss how the look in his eyes changed slightly to a more serious gaze.

Blinking a few times, you sighed. Gaze averting to the side— should you really tell him? It was most likely that he wouldn't let it go until you fessed up. It was either him bothering you until you spoke, or him making fun of you for having a small crush on his tattoos.

"If you don't say anything I'll just assume you have a hand kink or something—"

"Nagumo."

"Yes ma'am!"

Nagumo stared at his hand, what is it that you found so interesting? Thats when it clicked.

Oh. He thought. Oh.

"Oh my tattoos!"

A moment of silence passed by until you let out yet another sigh, this time more seemingly that of one of giving up. Nagumo had figured it out a little later than you had expected but he would have found out sooner or later, you thought.

"If you liked my tattoos so much you could have just said so." He continued to poke your cheek. He found it quite amusing how the tips of your ears had turned into a bright pink while refusing to make any sort of eye contact with him. Not even a side eye.

He would have never had thought that you would be interested in tattoos, you never once made a comment about them nor had you ever seemed to had an interest. So to think that you had actually payed attention to his tattoos was enough to catch him off guard.

"No way... I don't know how you came up with that conclusion.." You grumbled, refusing to make any sort of eye contact with him after your little secret had been just found out. Closing your eyes, you couldn't help what he had up his sleeve now. Nagumo was an unpredictable man, so he would either blackmail you somehow by just liking his tattoos— or you wouldn't hear the end of it by him.

When he had stopped poking your cheek, you felt him take a step away from you and you heard some rustling. Opening your eyes— the blush that had been on your ears spread to your face. You pulled his shirt down after he had tried to take it off. "Wh-what are you doing— are you crazy?!"

"I'm just taking it off to satisfy your curiosity!" Now it was a battle between you pulling his shirt down and him pulling it up. Soon making the said shirt rip.

"Ah."

"I didn't know you were that curious..'

"You're insufferable."

But maybe you did like him after all.

𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝!

#sakamoto days x reader #sakamoto days #nagumo sakamoto days #nagumo x reader #tattoos #i love his tattoos so much #nagumo one chance okeasee

[scoobydoodean]

Do you think John ever used to hit Sam and Dean? If so do you think he hit one of specifically or do you think he hit the both of them?

I don't think there's any solid evidence that John hit Sam and Dean. Some people do believe he did at least a few times (maybe when he was drinking—see: 7.03). I can't think of anything that I believe would 100% confirm John hit either of them.

I can think of three episodes that might imply Dean was occasionally physically abused by John:

1.14 "Nightmare": Dean's "All things considered". Haunting little set of screencaps.

5.16 "Dark Side of the Moon": This one is mainly down to jacting joices. When the brothers enter Sam's memory of running away to Flagstaff, Dean gets upset as Sam's lack of memory of the ramifications. Dean says "Well, you don’t remember, do you? You ran away on my watch. I looked everywhere for you. I thought you were dead. And when Dad came home…" The look Dean gives on that last line tends to stick with people.

9.07 "Bad Boys": In the scene where Dean and Sonny first meet, Dean has finger-shaped bruises all over his wrists. Sonny first asks if the deputy harmed Dean, then asks if it was John. Dean says it was a werewolf, but that story doesn't necessarily make sense either.

Another suggestive hint comes from young Sam in 7.03 "Girl Next Door":

YOUNG AMY Yeah, well, she [my mom] has a temper. Sometimes. It's... no big deal. YOUNG SAM My dad does, too. You don't want to see him when he's drinking.

Sam doesn't necessarily understand the implication of physical abuse in this scene, but he later finds out that Amy's mother is physically abusive toward Amy. We also knew that John had a drinking problem long prior to 7.03. Sam in particular resents this to the point of making several references to John's excessive drinking in 1.01 inside his apartment building. He says John's probably just "Working overtime on a Miller Time shift", then tells Jess that John's probably somewhere with "Jim, Jack, and Jose” (these are all brands of alcohol for anyone unfamiliar).

While 7.03 seems potentially damning, Sam explicitly denies that John physically abused him in 1.14 "Nightmare". When confronted with Max's extensive physical abuse, he ends the episode being thankful that they had John instead of some other dad who might not have coped as well:

Well, it coulda gone a whole other way after Mom. A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we woulda had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out ok. Thanks to him.

One might also consider how Sam responds to hearing about abusive relationships in 1.14 and 2.17 with Max and Madison respectively. He asks Max why he didn't just leave when the abuse continued into his adulthood, and suggests that he doesn't see Madison as the type to be caught up in an abusive relationship (questions that do make one wince, yeah...)

My own thinking is the following: I don't think there's anything wrong with exploring the idea that physical abuse did occur. I think John's well-documented neglect is enough child abuse for me personally. I think 1.14 probably rules out John hitting Sam (but one could argue otherwise). I think some incidents can be used to suit the narrative that John hit Dean, but I don't find any of the hints we're given are concrete proof of physical abuse.

1.14's "All things considered" line might be interpreted as a convincing suggestion that Dean suffered physical abuse, but it also might just represent Dean slowly trading places with Sam over the season as the John Defender, as he becomes more and more angry with their father (especially considering 1.14 comes after both of Dean's pleas for help went unanswered in 1.09 and 1.12, and 1.11 where he says he wishes he could stand up to John).

5.16 comes down to a look that, at the end of the day, could be interpreted a multitude of ways (and if I think about it... it seems to me that words would haunt Dean more at that point in his life than fists).

It seems to me that 9.07 might actually rule out John being responsible for Dean's injuries. John had been gone on a hunt when Dean got caught for stealing, leaving Sam and Dean behind at a motel. John had been gone long enough for Dean to risk gambling to try and get more cash. This suggests John had been gone for a while, meaning Dean and John probably hadn't been in the same room for a while. This also means I'm not sure if I buy Dean's story about a werewolf though (John was on a Rugaru hunt. Dean wasn't with him).

#mail #john #i dont deserve what he put on me #we probably have a lot more in common than just about anyone #1.14 #5.16 #9.07 #7.03

[elvisabutler]

you know how kids are supposed to be good judges of character? i was wondering if you could do elvis x reader where their kids don't like mommy and daddy's manager?

children 'n dogs

summary: your children with elvis never have been a big fan of the colonel and neither have you even if elvis is. but as you and elvis like to say: "children 'n dogs, best judges of character." fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) | austin butler rating: t pairing: elvis presley x female reader ( or austin elvis x female reader ) word count: 1854 warnings: talk of children being absolute menaces. a married couple being very much a married couple. pregnancy. the colonel being the colonel. brief mentions of period typical and culturally typical opinions on child rearing re: discipline and spanking. calling elvis a backwater hick. brief brief mention of vomit. i think that should be everything. author’s note: so hi anon thank you for this prompt, this was actually a really sweet one and i kind of fell in love with it but wasn't too sure how to start it- plus the fun tired exhaustion i've been dealing with. i set this as a sort of continuation of my queen of graceland fic ( that i wrote for specifically austin elvis ), you don't have to read that one, just know it basically has elvis and the reader getting together right before he gets shipped off to germany, and they have a set of twin girls right about that time and i implied they were going to have plenty more kids after those two. read this with austin elvis or elvis in mind, i am not picky, since i left it faintly nebulous.

"Whaddya mean Jess spit on 'im? Damn boy is 6 years old, he knows better." Elvis asks as you start to take down your hair for the night, wincing at one of the pins digging deeper into your hair. "Christ, mama, let me get those ones in the back, ya know ya can't get at 'em."

You roll your eyes but remove your hands only to have your husband's warm hands replace them, finding the pins in your hair with an ease you envy. "I meant exactly what I said, sweetheart. Jesse spit on the Colonel in the five minutes I looked away while tryin' to make sure Loretta and Elizabeth were all ready to go. They all know I'm not movin' all that fast right now." Your hand moves to rub at your bump, an act that has Elvis letting out a heavy sigh above your head, one of his own hands following downward and pressing against it, earning a powerful kick.

"That's what I get for putting another set of 'em in ya, isn't it? My Queen of Graceland too big to be chasin' after my lil' hellion of a boy." He moves his hand off of your stomach, only to watch another kick happen with a chuckle as he busies himself with your hair. "Colonel seemed madder than just a lil spit. Gettin' the feelin' there's more."

There is a moment when you contemplate not telling him the rest, not telling him how your oldest daughters had lost their tempers once you got them over to where their siblings were and how the other two boys promptly followed their older brother and hit the Colonel and how your youngest daughter, your sweet 18 month old daughter had thrown up on the Colonel's shoes. You contemplate all of this only to look up at your husband and realize he's waiting, mid trying to take out a pin. "Everyone might have- well- everyone might have had their own things they wanted to do t'him."

Now you're no stranger to trying to smooth over things your children have done to Elvis, no stranger to making it seem as if your children are far more innocent than they actually are. But in being married to you and in knowing your children together from the day they were born he knows when you're doing it. He knows exactly when you're trying to gloss over things and make them look presentable. He leans down and places a kiss to the top of your forehead. "Darlin'. I ain't gonna be mad at 'em. Or maybe jus' a lil, but ya gotta tell me what they did so I can apologize."

You hum and purse your lips as you move to grab a brush to brush out your hair. "Oh, I don't think any of 'em want you to apologize for what they did. They know very well what they did was wrong." A pause and you shake your head. "Loretta and Elizabeth kicked him in the shin and stepped on his foot. While tellin' him to stop bein' angry at Jesse for spittin' and Anthony and Aaron for tryin' to bite and hit 'im."

The two warring emotions that filter across Elvis's face show just how much of a child he can be even as he's a parent to six kids- eight if he counted the ones inside you. He wants to laugh at the sheer chaos the scene brings to mind but at the same time he knows that he should frown upon everything, that you expect him to be able to discipline them a little but at the same time he looks in your eyes and doesn't see a hint of anger. At the children or him. He raises an eyebrow. "And the vomit on the shoe?"

"Rebecca's lunch." The most simple answer as he pulls out the final pins that you couldn't properly see to pull out. "That one i wasn't expectin' in the slightest. Don't know if it was her tryin' to follow her sibling's leads or jus' an upset stomach. But- she hasn't done it since then."

Meaning it likely was her trying to get in on the action. Elvis sighs, sitting on the chest at the bottom of the bed. "Goddamn, darlin'- Our kids did all o' that to him? Our well behaved kids? The ones who know their manners 'n-"

You hold up a hand waving it for him as a signal to stop talking. "Our kids who know their manners 'cause they know I'd have their hides if they didn't. Yes, those kids. Those kids also hate the Colonel 'bout as much as I do-"

It's Elvis's turn to cut you off, standing up only to kneel down in front of you, taking the brush out of your hands so that he can hold them in his own. So he can envelop them in his own and make you focus on his face as he talks. "I know- I know the two of ya haven't ever gotten along but he's why we have all o'this. Wouldn't have gotten so big and wouldn't be in these pictures if it wasn't for 'im."

There is a part of you, a tiny part that will admit he's right, that the Colonel is the reason he's as famous as he is and why he's able to keep up with paying for your ever growing family but at the same time the man hasn't ever truly liked you and he especially likes you less and less the more kids you bring into the world. "Elvis, if he had his way you wouldn't have me or our kids." You whisper, pulling up your hands in an effort to get him to pull up his own so that you can place a small kiss to them. "He never has liked any of us. Got mad when I was pregnant with Loretta and Elizabeth but liked how he could spin it. Same wit' Jesse. But our other three? And these ones? If he could leave us out in a ditch somewhere, I honestly think he would. He- This doesn't give you the all American, Hollywood star look, it makes you look like a backwater hick."

"A backwater hick." He repeats back slowly, knowing fully well it wasn't you saying that. Oh he'd expect that from your mama, but not you. Which had to have meant that was the Colonel's words, not your own. "He tell ya that? He tell my goddamn wife that?

When you had first gotten married you might have looked away due to how Elvis's voice deepens in pitch, a sure sign of how angry he is simmering under the surface. Nowadays? Now it just makes you shake your head for a moment before nodding. "He has- which might be why your children kinda like a dog know when someone is-"

"Not a good person? Has a bad character?" He finishes for you before muttering under his breath. "Children 'n dogs."

The puff of air that leaves your nose betrays just how aggravated you're getting to be with the entire conversation as does the rolling movement of your twins. "They've done this for years, Elvis, it's jus' today that they've all done it at once. We deal wit' it for ya. I know you won't leave 'im so I handle it."

His eyes drift down to your stomach where he sees his children move a bit angrily and he frowns realizing that you've been stuck dealing with this alone while he sung the Colonel's praises all this time. He had to admit that as of late he was feeling a bit dissatisfied with the man and was beginning to wonder if maybe it was time for a change. A change that would make everyone happy. He pulls his hands away from yours and allows you to start to brush your hair again while he moves to touch and rub your stomach in an effort to calm the children. It works quicker than he'd have thought was possible judging by the way you lean back in the chair a little and sigh. Placing a kiss to your stomach he stands up. "I'll talk to 'im tomorrow, a'right? 'Bout a lot of things. Now come on, lets get your hair all brushed and my teeth all brushed and get ya into bed 'fore these lil ones wake back up and make a fuss."

You tilt your head up for a kiss before you nod. "Don't need to tell me twice. Go on, I got my hair sweetheart." You pause. "I love you. And I am sorry about what they did."

"Don't be, they're- our kids, mama. If they weren't like this- I'd be worried." He kisses you one more time before he pulls away to go to the bathroom to brush his teeth. "Love ya too."

Elvis manages to finish brushing his teeth before you finish with your hair and murmurs something about checking on the kids. It's a quick walk to the bedrooms and when he opens the door he's bombarded by a flurry of hugs and overlapping voices.

"We know we shouldn't have but he's so mean to mama!"

"He was yelling at Jesse and Anthony and Aaron, you'd've been mad too daddy!"

"He spit on me first!"

"He what?" The last words uttered by Jesse are what finally have Elvis putting up his hands and telling everyone to be quiet. "Didya jus' say he spit on ya?"

Jesse looks away when he answers, knowing that he technically is lying but he knows Mr. Parker would have. He just knows. "He didn't but- Daddy we jus'. He's mean. He's never mean when you're here but he's mean."

Elvis frowns and pulls his children in for a group hug, noting how they try and burrow into him as best as they can almost as if they want his forgiveness and protection all in one. When he pulls away he places a kiss to each of their foreheads. "I- I'm hearin' all 'bout this tonight. Listen. You all go on 'n get into bed. Daddy's gonna deal wit' some things tomorrow. Some things wit' Colonel Parker. Don't you worry 'bout it."

The grins so much like his own crossing all of their faces make his heart so full of love he almost feels like crying before he shakes his head. Lights out once I leave. And be nice to your mama tomorrow mornin' ya know your siblings are a lil rough on her right now."

A chorus of "yes daddy" leaves everyone's lips in whatever way they can manage it before he shuts the door and moves back to your shared bedroom. You're already on the bed by the time he comes back, curled up with a pillow fast asleep as he slides in next to you and nuzzles at your neck. "Ya gotta tell me 'bout these sorta things, darlin'. Can't protect ya if ya don't. But I'll deal wit' it tomorrow mornin'. Have some words wit' 'im. Love all of ya too much to not."

taglist: @ab4eva, @eliseinmemphis, @powerofelvis, @headfullofpresley, @precious-little-scoundrel, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, one day i'm gonna keep track of who would want to be tagged with what. today is not that day.

#elvis presley x reader #austin elvis x reader #elvis presley fluff #austin elvis fluff #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #austin elvis x you #austin elvis x y/n #elvis presley #austin elvis #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #ally writes #austin elvis fanfic #austin elvis fanfiction #austin butler elvis x you #austin butler elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #austin butler elvis x y/n #austin butler elvis fanfic

[a-998h]

hi, I hope you don't mind that. I want make an order. I would like a cult! Sagau fatui harbingers (Pulchinela plantonic, the rest all romantic) for Fem! Creator with character of Nastya (from cartoon Anastasia 1997.) She has a brave, astro smart, kind, short-tempered character. The creator remembers almost nothing about herself, trying to remember her past and who she is. She also has love line with Dottore (and once sorry Y/n hit him hard on the cheek and he was shocked). As in the previous request, you can come up with a continuation of this story. (Pulchinela plantonic, the rest are romantic)

(The closest character I could find is Anya from this moive and I've not seen this movie, so don't judge me).

You're trip to Snezhnaya was coming to an end. The harbingers have kept you mostly inside the palace. Being very boared you plan your escape. Sneaking out at night would work in any other region, but Snezhnaya getting below freezing at night. Sneaking out could still wrok, but it's not a good idea. So, you waited until the harbingers were at a meeting so you could escape.

When you did mange to escape you explored the city. You explored as much as you could. Exploring lead you to the local shrine and statue of the Creator. You had gotten used to people comparing you to her. The freedom you felt was new. You've tried finding out who you are, for as long as you can remember. You're search took you to dead ends. You decide to start serching for answears again. You walk into a city libraryand start looking at the books. The serch leads you to a worn, old looking book. Pulling it off the self you start reading. It is talking about the Creator, and how great they were. It gets boring, untill it mentions the fact that the Creator supposedly died in Snezhnaya. You remeber a young man in Fontanie telling you there was an energy coming from you. Deciding this could be a lead, you plan to go to the spot where the Creator died. Following the route, it ends to a stone. This pissed you off. You had braved the wild winter weather for a stupid rock.

You punched the rock in anger, which then made you feel a tingle run through your body. Looking at the rock, it is now glowing green. The rock breaks open to reval a locket. Putting it on, you feel yourself being sucked into your mind.

In a black void, you see fragments coming together. As the fragments come together you see memories. They show someon who looks like you creating the mountains, animals, and many other things. You think you're having a cold induced delusion. This theory is ruined when you see the figure adress themselves with your name. In Teyvat, no one was allowed to name their child after the Creator, or any other gods. You breathing picks up, your heart beats so hard that your ribs might break. When you get out of your head, you stare at the locket. A beam of light shots out of it. Following the light, you run into monsters that make it their mission to try and kill you. It gets on your nerves so much that you decide to beat the monsters into the ground. When you get to where the locket wanted it's revealed to be another rock.

"Another rock... I think I've lost my mind," You tell yourself.

Getting close to rock, it has words written on it. You stared at the words and you could understand them. Thing is, you never really knew Teyvat's language. You needed others to read things for you, and that made you feel helpless. The rock said, here lays the soul of our god. It wasn't refering to the Tsarita because she was still alive. Touching the rock energy follows through you. It scaes you. Getting to your feet you hear a voice. Looking behind you, you see Dottore.

"I was looking everywhere for you," he scolds.

You had started getting a crush on him over the month. His features and intelligence drew you to him. You saw yourself married to him, if you ignore the human experiments. He drags you back to the palace nad after everything that's happened today, you were not in the mood for this. You yell at him to let you go, but he ignores you.

"Hey! Let me go!" You yell.

He continues to ignore your yelling. This pisses you off even more. You raise your hand, palm open, and full of rage. The next thing Dottore knows, you've slapped him right across the face. He looks at you in shock. There is a staring match between you two. You see how you left a large red mark on his cheek. You lead him inside and to the guest room you were staying in.

"Wait here," You tell him.

He waits for you to come back. When you do come back with an ice pack he smiles a bit. Putting the ice pack on his red cheek he can't help but smile. When he thinks his redness is gone, he leads you to the meeting room. You sit in the seat that has been chosen as yours. The harbingers stare at you, while even more obession than normal. Dottore takes his seat and looks at you.

"Turns out our guest is more than a королева look a like," He says.

There is an unseen tension in the air. Dottore pulls out a vital of your blood.

"When I took this sample, it was red now it is a glowing gold color," He explains. He expalins how he found you in the forest near the rock. Turns out the rock is the grave of the Creator. The relization that you're the Creator hits everyone hard. The harbinger starts worrying that they weren't respecting you enough and you starting panicing because you might have to quit dancing.

"Well, it seems the other archons have not been taking care of you," Pulcinella mutters under his breathe. Pierro stares you in the eyes.

"It seems you will be staying in Senzhnaya until further notice, " he tells you.

Their romantic antics and attention grabbing tactics increase. Even though he now knows you're a god, Pulcinella still treats you like the young lady he sees you as. Your crush on Dottore goes from one sided to mutual. He brags that he is your lover, even if you haven't even kissed yet. Scaramouche treats you a bit more respectful. They never made you stopped dancing, they think it would be to cruel. They try and help you regain knowledge and memories.

In the end, if they weren't obessed before they are now and they never plan on letting you go.

#cult au #sagau #genshin fanfic #creator!reader #sagau lore #genshin x fem!reader #dottore x fem!reader #romantic fatui harbingers #harbingers x fem!reader

[winters-rose-daughterofcain]

Part 2 of Everlark and their parents lets go Peeta your turn now.

Now this one is harder. We know very little explicit information about Peeta's family so a lot of this will be inference and my own personal interpretation of the family and their dynamic based on what we do see, what we don't see, and the way Peeta acts, so if you disagree with me that's all good lol.

So first, Peeta grew up in an absuive household. That's not a debate that's explicitly canon. Him mother not only hits him, implied to be with something, but also calls him a worthless creature when he burns the bread for Katniss. No matter that circumstance that is not how you treat your eleven year old child, that is not how you treat any child period, and this clearly isn't a one off or first time. Even though we personally see very little of the abuse on page, I at least think its impact of Peeta is very clear.

This boy has abysmal self esteem, when he discovers Katniss and Haymich have hidden things from him again he feels as if they view him as weak and stupid and too dumb to get it, that's the automatic assumption even though we know that's so far from the truth it's laughable. But for a child that grew up being consistently insulted and belittled it's not that far of a jump to make.

His ability to lie, also I think is relevant here. That kind of ability with words doesn't come from nowhere, that doesn't just happen that's something practiced. A theme with Katniss and Peeta's talents throughout the trilogy is that even the things they are good at and that help them were born from necessity. Katniss is so good with a bow and practical survival skills because she had to be, because even though she grew to love hunting, she and her family would have died without it. Peeta's skill with art comes from working at the bakery it comes from years worth or practise and labor he put in as a child, and I think his ability to lie, manipulate, mask his true feelings and talk his way though things stems from a similar place. His mother is called 'the witch' colloquially, we see she clearly has a temper and resorts to violence and insults quickly. A lot of children who grow up in abuse grow to be very charming, they learn how to lie and manipulate the situation to get themselves out of trouble and to keep themselves and potentially their siblings safe. At least to me Peeta's unmatched ability to impact and morph a situation with just his words could very easily be linked back to his childhood. We all love that Peeta is such a good manipulator but only ever uses it for good, and I think this is partially why, because he doesn't even want to be necessarily, it was a skill born for survival. His mothers cruelty is also shown very much to not be reserved purely for him, she chases starving children away from their empty bins, speaks awfully about the seam and the people from it.

His father is a complicated man. he clearly dose have love for Peeta and is shown many times to be a kind man at his core. But he is passive. He may bring Katniss cookies and make generous trades, he may have been the one to impart that inherent kindness we see in him onto Peeta, and may have been the only safe adult in the house, but he is passive. We don't know the extent of how much he steps in when his wife starts acting out, but from what we can see of her effect of Peeta clearly not enough. He also doesn't come to live with him after the games, none of them do. And while I understand practically that might not be the most reasonable situation, a newly disabled, traumatised sixteen year old boy was still left to live alone. His family may have visited often, they still talk we see him going to dinner with them, but I think their lack of mention speaks more than anything else here.

The relationship between his parents was also not exactly the best model to grow up observing. When he is five years old his dad tells Peeta is was in love with another woman, he points out her child to him, explains how he lost her. There is no addendum of how much he loves his mother now, how it was in the past. Peeta grew up with parents he was acutely aware did not love each other and from what we see and here, don't even pretend to act like it.

Now how dose this relate to Katniss. This first part is more my own speculation so ignore me if you disagree, but Katniss in the first games mentions Peeta doing certain things with her she remembers her parents doing, and wondering where he learnt it from, thinking surely not his own parents. And I think she's right, I think he learnt it from hers. Peeta is observant, I think after his father pointed out Katniss and her mother he payed attention, not just to Katniss but to her parents as well. I think he was a little fascinated by this family, these parents who clearly adore each other these children with skin clear of bruises who have never been made to feel like nothing from there parents who clearly think the world of them. There was six years from when Peeta noticed her to Mr Everdeens death, that's six years for him to observe this family and their love. Not obsessively, not even knowingly, but I think it happened. I think the Everdeens weren't just Katniss's reference for a relationship but Peeta's as well. I don't think she was the only one drawing comparisons, even if he didn't completely realise what he was doing.

(Additional evidence for this pointed out by @intellectual-punk in Mockingjay Haymitch tells Katniss the doctors showed Peeta the propo of her singing The Hanging Tree and he recognized the song and Katniss says she doesn’t know how he could as he never heard her sing it. Haymitch says he remembers her father singing it as their fathers traded. Peeta hasn't heard this song since he was 11, he’s 17 at the time of remembering it. So for him to remembering it after so long after last hearing it and clearly not hearing it around the house we can imagine that her father must have sang it near every time the two men traded and that Peeta was either specifically listening to his singing as he knows from his father that that is how Mr Everdeen won over Mrs Everdeen or he was just generally paying attention to the man either on his own or in relation to Katniss.)*Found in notes {Thank you so much for this}

I also think, going back to people seeking out the familiar, that Katniss reminded him in certain ways of his father. They're both quiet, both people associated with providing food in one way or another. I think he see's her in the way that while they both clearly love him, they both struggle to show him, leaving him to question it for a long time. But where his father fails to protect him, Katniss doesn't. Katniss doesn't have his fathers passivity, far from it, Katniss Everdeen is anything but passive. She actively works to protect him and others, she speaks out loudly when she finds something wrong, she still has that kindness, but it never gets in the way of what's necessary.

This is also where I see his mother come in, I think he dose see some similarities there. In their tempter, in the sharp way they can use their words, in the way she underestimates him in the beginning and even hurts him on occasion, shoving him into the vase (I think?) and cutting his hands after the first interview. But in so many ways Katniss is the opposite. Peeta may have developed a crush because of her voice, but he falls in love because of the way she helps people, because he knows her intrinsically and intrinsically Katniss is someone who cares. He always comments on her healing ability, even if she finds it lacking it's clearly something he loves about her, hands that heal instead of hurt. His mother was cruel to everyone especially those less fortunate, meanwhile Katniss would give everything on her to those who need it more. He see's the similarities yes, and unconsciously that familiarity might be a small drive towards her, but ultimately he loves Katniss for the ways in which she is different from his mother, the ways in which his mother failed, for the ways in which she stepped in where his father fell short. As well as for a lot of other reasons of course, but I think his parents impact is definitely something to consider.

#peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #everlark #mr mellark #mrs mellark #the hunger games #thg #katniss and peeta #tw: abuse #part 2 #i love him so much #my love I'm sorry you didn't deserve that #they deserved so much better #character analysis

[gettingfrilly]

I need to just gush about Ed and Eddy and how emotional they make me for a second. I've talked before about how Eddy is the golden child in his family while his bro is the scapegoat, given the "#1 son" mug and his parents disapproval with him having anything to do with his brother. Well Ed's family has the same situation going on, with the youngest, Sarah, being the golden child, and Ed, the eldest, being the scapegoat. So you've got two best friends who have known each other since they were toddlers, one who was abused by his scapegoat big brother, and another who's currently being tormented by his golden child baby sister.

And that's not where the similarities end! Eddy and Sarah, other than being the youngest and the golden children, have a lot of other things in common, too. Their short tempers, violent outburts, permanent loud volume, and penchant for using Ed for their own gains make them shockingly similar characters. It's also pretty heavily implied throughout the series that Eddy is a mama's boy, and we have a pretty good idea of what Sarah and her mother's relationship is like ("I'm telling mom!")

So if they're that similar, why would Ed want to be around Eddy? The answer is the key difference between Sarah and Eddy; Eddy likes Ed, and Sarah does not (not on the surface, anyway.) Eddy will yell at Ed, hit Ed, use Ed, and be an all around asshole to the guy, but at the end of the day, he still wants to be around Ed. He wants to watch his scary sci-fi movies with him, pull pranks on the other kids with him, have sleepovers and camp out and encourage his overactive imagination. And Ed responds so well to this because Ed loves Sarah. And here's Eddy, so similar to her, and yet so different. Of course compared to how Sarah treats him Ed would see Eddy as soft and cuddly like mashed potatoes.

Then you have Ed, the scapegoat elder brother, twice Eddy's size and impossibly strong. If he wanted to, there would be nothing stopping Ed from ruling the cul-de-sac the way Eddy's brother supposedly did. We see in Little Ed Blue that even Sarah is scared of Ed when he's seriously angry, and he's easily the strongest kid in the neighborhood. It's Ed's own gentleness and loving nature that leaves him docile and so affectionate. I think that normally, Eddy would be scared of someone so much bigger and stronger than him, and that Ed probably does remind him of his brother in some ways. You'd also think Eddy would want nothing to do with someone as touchy feely as Ed is. And yet Eddy always seems to be having the most fun when he's joking around with Ed, even gets extremely touchy feely himself when the two of them are having a laugh together.

(btw the little giggle Eddy lets out before muffling his laughter by hiding his face in Ed's chest is the top cutest Eddy moment in the entire series.)

ANYWAY the point of me rambling about all of this is that I think Eddy and Ed see in each other the sibling relationship they wished they had, and through years of building their friendship, have created such a relationship. Eddy and Ed are brothers through and through, and it's why they remain so close despite the multitude of reasons they have for not liking each other.

#eene #ed edd n eddy #gettingfrillyspeaks

[dreamcatcher2113]

The Dragon Dance

Summary: What if Rhaenyra had another child? What if Rhaenyra had a daughter with white hair and purple eyes? What if she was betrothed to Aemond as an alliance with Greens? 

You are the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, unlike your brothers you have white hair and purple eyes. You are the twin sister of Jacaerys. You were close with Aemond when you were kids, you two attached to the hip. Ten years later after your family left to Dragonstone, your family reunites with the Greens. You see a familiar face, Aemond Targaryen. Even though it's been years since you last saw him, let's just say you are not the same little girl you were once before. 

Warnings: The reader and Jacaerys are aged up, they would be eighteen. Uncle/niece insect. 18+ smut(eventually). Language. Mentions of assault(mainly from Aegon). Violence. And possible other warnings that I can’t think of. There is a happy ending.

Part 06

Masterlist

___________________________________________

The Dragon Dance Part 07:

You walk up to the table that’s in the middle of the room, you finally let go of Jace and Luce’s ears. Both of them started to rub their ears, and groaned in pain. You see the people that summoned are here, including Aegon. 

“Now that everyone is here, everyone please take a seat.” You said.

Your brothers just gave you a look, you crossed your arms and gave them a warning look. You just dragged them by the ear, do they really want to test your patients? You rolled your eyes, raised both of your hands, and smacked both of them behind their heads. You hear snicker from Daemon. You see Aegon about to leave, but Aemond stopped him and forced him to sit down.

“I’m not playing, take a seat. Now!” You pointed at the table. Jace and Luce rubbed their heads.

“Alright, alright.” Luce replied.

“Gods you didn’t have to hit us.” Jace groaned.

You give Jace and Luce a look, you shake your head and make your way to the table.

You sat at the end of the table, while Aemond sat on your left sitting across from Jace who sat on your right, next to Jace was Luce, across from Luce was Aegon and next Aegon was Helaena, Rhaena sat next to Luce and Baela sat next to her sister. 

“Alright we are all here, what is this about sister?” Jace asked you.

“We all need to talk.” You went straight to the point.

“About what exactly?” Aegon asked.

You sighed and turned your head to Aegon, “about this feud. This had gone long enough. I want all of us to at least be civil with each other.”

“Why are our parents here?” Luce asked.

You turned to face Luce. “To surprivice, just in case things get out of hand and so no one leaves and no one comes in.” 

“Especially.” You pointed at Jace, Luce, Aemond, and Aegon. “You four having a temper. Now we are going to talk this out. No one leaves until this is resolved. Do I make myself clear?”

You hear Aegon snorted. You look at Aegon with a dark look, “I wouldn’t underestimate me Aegon, unless you want me pinning down like I did last night” You warned.

Aegon's smile faded and was about to say something but stopped by the warning look from Aemond. 

“Now who wants to begin?” You asked.

Not to your shock none of them wanted to say anything. Men and their fragile egos, you swear. You sighed, might as well start since none of them are going to start.

“Alright, I’ll start then.” You begin, you stand up and put both hands on the table. “Aegon, Jace and Luce. You went too far with the prank with the pig.” 

“Jace and Luce, I know you two didn’t mean any harm, and I know you two didn’t mean to hurt Aemond’s feelings. But you did. I know you two mostly did it as a joke, but that was too far and both of you know it.” You pointed out to your brothers. You know Jace and Luce don’t like hurting people’s feelings. You know that the both of them just did it for laughs, but sometimes jokes can cause some pain.

“Aemond.” You point your attention to him. “I know how you felt when you didn’t have a dragon, there were days when you went to me for comfort. I understand the reason why you claimed Vhagar.”

“However.” You continued. “That does not make it right. You took Baela’s and Rhaena’s mother’s dragon. After her funeral. Probably the very few things they have left of their mother.”

You breathed out for a moment. “That wasn’t fair to them or the memory of their mother.”

You went back to Jace and Luce. “Jace and Luce. I know you two were just defending Baela and Rhaena. With that I am thankful for and love you both for that.” You paused. “Luce you are a sweet boy and I know you didn’t mean to, but you shouldn’t have taken Aemond’s eye. It was too far and you know it.”

You paused for a bit and took a breath. “Can you four please figure this out? Please. I don’t want to have a life where our families are divided. I want our children to grow up together. So please not for yourselves, but for us women standing in this room. For your future children.” You pleaded.

After your speech there was still silence. You sighed in defeat, sitting back down and hiding your face with your hands. Was there no hope to make amends? Were they always going to be divided? At this point you don’t know what to do.

“Y/N is right.” You finally hear Jace say something. You looked up and saw him standing up from his chair.

“Our families shouldn’t be divided but together as one.” Jace said. “Uncle Aemond, me and Luce are sorry for pulling that prank on you.”

“I’m not.” You hear Aegon faintly say. You shot him a warning look, pulling your dagger out, giving Aegon the message to shut up.

“We shouldn’t have pulled the prank on you uncle. Luce and I did it as a joke, we thought it was harmless.” Jace continued. “Now we both understand that it wasn’t, for that we are sorry.”

Luce stands up as well. “I’m sorry too uncle. I’m sorry for the prank and for taking your eye. I didn’t mean to take it that far. I just wanted to protect my brother and my cousins. However, that does not excuse what I have done. I know an apology isn’t enough for what I have done.”

Luce started walking towards Aemond, holding his dagger. He stands in front of him, and Aemond raises from his chair. Luce hands his dagger to Aemond. Everyone was surprised at the act. The room fell silent, you can hear a pin drop.

Aemond looked at Luce confused for what he should do with a dagger. “An eye for an eye right?” Aemond hears Luce say.

“Luce what are you doing?” You asked, worried and knowing what Luce is planning to do.

“That’s why it all started right? This feud between us four, because I took your eye. A debt should be paid.” Luce continued.

“Lucerys no!” You hear mother yell out, but is stopped by Daemon.

“Luce don’t do this!” You yelled out.

“This is my choice!” Luce yelled. “If taking my eye ends this feud, then so be it. I want my sister to be happy. I want this to end as well. So uncle your move.”

Aemond is at a loss, for once in his life he doesn’t know what to do. Aemond was expecting a lot of things from this meeting, but this, this wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t expecting his nephew that took his eye, to offer his own. Aemond hears you, Jace and Rhaenyra yelling at Luce to not do it. Luce however was not budging, he remained where he stands. Aemond knew Luce was serious, he could see it in his eyes. Luce was willing to lose an eye for his sister and for him as well.

Aemond had the dagger out. “Aemond no!” You yell out.

Next thing you knew Aemond put the dagger on the table, put his forehead against Luce's, grabbing the back of his hair gently. “I’m not mad anymore, that’s all I wanted from you.” He said softly. Everyone sighed out of relief.

Everyone was surprised by Aemond’s responses, including Aemond himself. At first Aemond thought he wanted Luce’s eye, because he took his. He always held that grudge against Luce, but now he sees that wasn’t it. Aemond wanted Luce to own up for what he had done, and apologized. Aemond wanted to know that if Luce was willing to take his eye out for him, now he knows that. 

Speaking of owning up, he lets go of his nephew and turns to Baela and Rhaena. “I owe you two an apology. Like Y/N said, I should have never taken your mother’s dragon. I was clouded with my own greed and desperation for a dragon.”

“That does not excuse what I have taken from you two. I am sorry to the both of you.” Aemond bowed to them in an apology.

Baela and Rhaena look at each other and look at Aemond. As much as they want to forgive Aemond for your sake, they just couldn’t. They don’t know if they can forgive him now, but maybe in the future.

“We’re sorry Y/N. We both love you like a sister, but we can’t forgive Aemond. At least not now, maybe in the future, but not now.” Baela said, anger with herself for hurting you.

You got up from your seat, and walked up to Baela, giving her a big hug. “My dear cousin, you have nothing to apologize for.” You break the hug, putting your right hand on her cheek.

“I don’t expect you and Rhaena to forgive Aemond easily. I know what he did, hurt the both of you. I do want to thank the both of you, for hearing him out.” You give her a small smile, putting your forehead against hers; understanding that some things take time to be forgiven.  Baela holds the hand that holds her cheek, giving you a small smile as well. Thankful that you are understanding. 

You start to separate yourself from Baela, and start to walk to Aemond standing next to him. “I honestly don’t expect you two to forgive me, but I will work for your forgiveness.” Aemond responded. “I would like to apologize to you two nephews. I am sorry for calling you bastards and taunting you.”

“Two dragons dance, the bond that has been broken is fixed.” You hear Helaena speak in a riddle.

Jace walks up to you, Luce and Aemond, standing next to Luce. “Let's make amends, let the past be in the past.” Jace responded, reaching out for his hand to Aemond.

“I agree nephew. Let’s make amends, and start new memories. Let us become one again.” Aemond declared, holding your hand and shook Jace’s hand

Finally there was progress. Finally the bond that was served, was now binding. The bond that was broken, was now slowly being fixed. You couldn’t be happier, you know there are still some things that need to be worked on, but there is time for that. For now you are enjoying the moment with your family. You pull Jace, Luce and Aemond into a hug, all three of them not knowing what to do but decided to hug back. You hear sigh relief from your mother and Alicent, they are also relieved that their sons finally made up and they continue being a family again.

___________________________________________

Taglist: @astridyoo15 @princessleah129 @somemydayy @angel6776 @jeyramarie @mingiholic

#the dragon dance #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond imagine #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon imagine #aemond fic #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #targaryen reader #velaryon reader #reader #reader insert #aemond fanfic

[romeulusroy]

Your Relationship As Logans Youngest Would Include:

Requested: What would Logan’s relationship with his youngest child? - anon

A/N: I'm not 100% sure if this was a request or just a question, but I like it too much not to turn into a headcanon :) I'm basing it off these headcanons and this fic series because I love this Baby Roy! Feedback is always appreciated!!! 💜💜💜

Logan never wanted you from the beginning

He makes that abundantly clear with your mother, but she had no children, by him or anyone else, and thought this would be the way to trap him. It'll at least get her the money she wants when they inevitably divorce

Neither of your parents understand what it is to raise a child. Your mother was never warm and fuzzy with your siblings, let alone you. She hates the fact that she has to give up alcohol and sushi for you and definitely reminds you of all her sacrifices. Your father wants nothing to do with you. Period

He has three boys to choose from, more than enough for a single successor, and a daughter to carry on the family name. To Logan you're more like spare parts

He's older now, he has less time for children, less time for you. Less energy, too. He doesn't have time for you. He didn't have time for your siblings, but now he was even more busy. At least they're grown up, at least he doesn't have to parent them anymore. You're a baby, you supposedly need him. But his work is more important

After you're born he spends as little time with you as possible, leaving your mother and siblings to raise you. He can't remember, but he swears you cry more than the others. You cry all the time. It prevents him from working. It prevents him from inviting people over. You are deemed the reason he can't get anything done

It's up to your siblings mostly to raise you. Connor takes over as father figure and the rest do their best to protect you. When you're fussy or cranky or just not in a good mood they know better than to let you near Logan in that state. Things always end badly when you're around him

When he can't help but be around you, he remains distant. When you're old enough to walk and talk and go to school, he might ask about it. Probably not, though. He can't be bothered to care

You remind Logan of his own mortality. You're so much younger than he is, so much younger than your siblings. He sees you and realizes he doesn't have the energy anymore. He doesn't have the drive anymore. He's still got his bite of course, but he's getting older. He's not as scary as he used to be, at least he feels this way and it's why he's even more cruel than usual

Logan only hears word of your tantrums. You have a nasty temper that makes the help quit weekly. He doesn't have time for that. He'd just divorced your mother and became the parent with the most custody. He isn't going to hit you like Roman, he has this feeling you'd only get worse. You're already covered in bruises and scratches, he can't afford anymore questions

He sent you to your room for days at a time, he took away meals and toys and time with your siblings. Some days he even took you away from school, deciding that time with your teachers and friends was too good for you. You'd be so quiet, so still, he sometimes forgot you were there. When you begged for food and water he'd send a plate to your door, not wanting to see you at the table. Not wanting to see you at all

One day after a particularly bad week, after you threw yet another tantrum in front of his investors, he calls you into his study. You know you're not allowed in here. He has so many things he wants to say that he can't. He wants to yell and scream and order you to stop acting this way. It's childish, it's reckless, and if you don't straighten up, he'll ship you off to boarding school. Instead, what comes out is vague and simple: Quiet down.

Quiet down the tantrums, the emotions, the crying and yelling, the head banging, the scratching, the throwing, the disaster, quiet down everything until you are nothing. Until you are nothing

It is a non-threatening threat

Your siblings try to help, try to get in-between the anger and your father, but he knows. He sees everything that goes on inside his home. Your behavior is unacceptable and he will not stand it

When you started drinking, he took notice. You were, what? Ten, eleven, twelve. He'd had his first drink by your age. The fact that you had simmered down meant that it was working

He would do nothing to stop you, nothing to intervene. When you went to your mothers, when you weren't drinking, he was the one who heard all about how misbehaved you were. When you came home and self-sedated, he figured it was a win. He finally had you behaving. Ever since you were born he'd felt this anger, this disgust towards you. Now that you were limp and quiet and subdued, you were a pleasure to have

The pills were the next step, stealing from the bathroom cabinet, coke from Kendall's pockets, other drugs from school. He knew what was going on, but again didn't care. He felt like he'd been holding his breath your whole life and could now finally breathe

He didn't care what you did or how much you did it, it was your life he was fucking up, not his. Why should he care?

You wouldn't overdose til a few months later. He pays the hospital bills, never bringing it up. You collapse a few times at home, the help finding you, saving you, but he never brings it up. You come home and shut yourself in your room, out late every night

He's not an idiot. He knows exactly what you're doing, what you're trying to get rid of: the anger. He'd let you kill yourself over it. He has an heir, he has successors that aren't you. You're finally letting him do his job, letting him work. That's all he wanted your entire life

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"To do what?"

He knows. He's always known. And sometimes it feels like he's rubbing it in your face that he knows and doesn't care. It hurts and drives you to do more drugs and drink more alcohol. If he doesn't care about you, why should you?

He doesn't keep track of you. You're at clubs, bars, underground, all over the city. If you're not home by the time he goes to bed you are not his problem. Simple

When you call him that night, sobbing, asking for help, for safety, for him to pick you up after days of not being home, he nearly hangs up. You are weak. You always have been. Instead he calls Connor, knowing he's in the city, ordering him to find you. When the call ends he goes back to sleep without worry. This is your mess, your fault. He won't let you get in the way of another big day tomorrow

Years you spent ruining your life, your body, a decade you spent in those bars, in those clubs, drinking yourself to sleep every night because you were weak and couldn't deal with life

He doesn't see you for months after that. You go to rehab a few times. You stay with your siblings and then you get your own place. Neither of you talk about that night, that call. He is neither kind to you nor hateful. You simply exist. You are a letdown. You always have been. He was foolish to think you'd be any other way

Logan dies not liking you. You're clean now, have been for a year after multiple months of rehab and multiple months of falling off the wagon. But that doesn't mean a thing to him. You poisoned yourself for years. You poisoned your family. You couldn't deal with life and that made you weak. No matter how sober you stay or for how long, you did those things to yourself. No one else did. Logan didn't want you from the beginning, but your life just proves you are not a Roy, you never will be. You're, at best, spare parts

#requested #headcanon #logan roy #logan roy imagine #logan roy headcanon #logan roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession headcanon #succession x reader

[gold-rhine]

For the bodypart canons askgame can we get Neuvillette? If you don't have much about him yet then I wanna be the first one to ask for Kaeya

I already did for Neuvi! In fact its easier for him bc he just came out, so i have a lot of things to extrapolate from, but I was writing long ass essays for kaeya for more than a year, so its harder to come up with anything new to say asdfghj. like i don't to repeat same headcanons i already wrote, like that he's related to candace

Headcanon: I can muster a cogent argument for why it would make more sense or make for a better story if this were the case

i've gotta say, i'm a bit peeved when i see ppl portraying child kaeya as like. a dickensian beggar boy who was let to the fireplace and cried bc he tried a cube of sugar for the first time in his life. like, alberichs are nobility and we know khaenriah took their nobility *very* seriously. and if they knew they are sending their scion to mond's nobility, they'd make damn sure he can keep up their dignity. kaeya canonically could read and write before he got to mond and game makes sure to highlight that his handwriting is beautiful.

i think kaeya was very well educated, very well schooled and mannered and prepared for like high society politics, and it was kind of a cultural shock for him how uncivilized ragnyvdirs are in comparison to his own upbringing. like he's a bit confused when he doesn't see 10 different forks at the dinner table, but he's keeping a brave face, but then he sees diluc wipe his mouth with a sleeve and like snatch a piece of meat from the dish and is just completely stunned. and diluc is like oh don't be shy, you can have more too if you want!, but kaeya is in fact seeing a heart attack his own father would have at this scene. this is why he comes off as very quiet and polite to all adults at the estate

Heartcanon: I don’t have a particular rationale for why this ought to be the case, I just like to imagine it’s true because it gives me the warm fuzzies

my conspiracy theory headcanon is that he does still have his horse, but doesn't use her for work. like when he just became a knight as a teen, he saw a horse that no one wanted or ever chose bc she had horrible temper, and slowly gained her trust with treats and attention until they've became friends like a true horsegirl would. that horse was left in mond bc she doesn't let anyone else ride her, so the expedition just left her to kaeya, but he just treats her like a luxury pet and spoils her to death

Gutcanon: it’s not that I actively want this to be the case – it just unaccountably feels like it should be

the first ability from his vision that ever activated was his C4 shield when diluc cleaved him on the head and this is what saved his life. this shield is v useful, but kaeya hates it as a reminder. he also has pretty big burnscar on his eye, bc like. he took a flaming claymore to the eye, no way he has a dainty little white line from a hit like that

Junkcanon: I like to imagine it’s true because it gives me the other kind of warm fuzzies

has a collection of corsets and elaborate lingerie sets. like, you open the corset on his default outfit and there is another, even sexier corset underneath

Spleencanon: I insist that this is the case specifically to spite the author, because, like, fuck you, sir or madam

every time hoyo tries to gaslight us into pretending diluc was right and in fact normal about kaeya and the knights the whole time, i'm sending psychic spiders to them on the astral plane

#rhine talks #kaeya

[separatedleoau]

OK the thing with this is I don't see One talking about it or bringing it up in any way. He is very good at hiding it, he has been doing it for years, it takes the AU gang seeing it to realize something was up.

Everything regarding his scars would play out the same way than in the AU aka if they ask about any, it would be about the most visible ones, being the ones on his back and he would talk big shit about them

Any other scar wouldn't rise that much of a question as they are not as big or impressive, and knowing about his usual lifestyle and how their usual lifestyle is they would see them as normal, just the result of training and fighting mutants (in One's case yōkai that had oppossed to Draxum or to him on his little missions)

So how I think things would play out is they would all just be talking, probaly like at the table post meal and Draxum wouldn't stop staring at One. It wasn't weird for him to do that, after all he had been curios of what Leo would have turned out if he had been raised by him.

And he had been happy on the most part, the boy was disciplined, he was a good fighter, more than leo was at his age, he listens to Draxum and obeys without hessitation. He was as self confident as their Leo, thought it came across as arrogance more times as it did with Leo.

He was an excelent strategist when fighting, outsmarting alsmost everyone in the room at least once on the many times a battle had broken out. His skills with the blade were magnificent, more so that Leo's at his age, almost matching him right now, even with two years and an apocalypse under his belt.

With both Leos being quick-witted, smart and cleaver and ridiculously skilled with their katanas, the only reason One was currently being considered more dangerous and deadly than his two year old conterpart was his firey temper and murderus intentions. The child craved violence.

Donnie found that amussing.

It was a good thing the other teens had two years of experience over him, and that they had Splinter to knock him over in no more than two moves if things started to get out of hand. Draxum could also just tell him to stop and he will, but he had a job and couldn't be here all the time.

But the Baron wouldn't stop staring at him, One had caught him many times, out of the corner of his eye. It was starting to make him uncomfortable, Draxum was narrowing his eyes, looking at him in a way One felt he was seeing right trough him.

Is not untill Draxum called his name that One actually turned to look at him head on. Draxum had a pensive look on his eyes and gave himself a moment to think before speaking.

"Do you have any of my seeds with you?"

One stared at him for a moment with a confused expression, then the reality of the situation he was in hits him, of course Draxum doesn't know, this wasn't his Draxum.

"Oh, yeah" The boy stood up and reached for his bag holding out for everyone to see a handful of seeds. "Boss gave them to me, I always carry some" One said as a matter of hand, "I almost never use them, I don't need them, but is fun to use" he said a small smile, looking at the handfull of seeds the same way he looked at the small bomb Donnie tried to give him the other day, before Raph came to 'ruin the fun'.

"Use?" Draxum repeated, "you know how to morph them?"

A cocky grin shinned across One's face in an instant. He tossed one of the seeds to his left hand and sqeezed it as he took a battle pose. Vines exploded out between his fingers quickly wrapping themselves around One's gloved arm. The vines created an arm almost twice its original size, an elbow filled with dangerous spikes with the biggest one being so big it almost reached his shoulder. His hand had now three long, sharp fingers that were best described as claws.

It looked quite similar to Draxum's enhaced arms.

a low chour of "whoa!" filled the table, everyone looking with wide eyes at this boy who aparently had yet another weapon on himself.

"You could have thought us to do that the whole time?!" Mikey yelled

"I didn't even think someone else could learn to do this too" Draxum admited, leaning forwards to look One's hand better, "Impressive" he muttered

One's face lighted up.

Leo rolled his eyes, yes yes, very impressive. but the kid kept lighting up like an exited puppy evey time he recived any validation from Draxum, was his own carving for attention so bad? had it been that bad back then? was he so obvious? did it also show so easy, so transparent on his own face?

He hoped not

"Neither did my Draxum," One said nonchalant, "I kept insisting he teach me when I was a kid. He never thought I would actually be able to do it but I eventually picked it up" He closed his hand again and focused, the weird mass that formed his enhanced arm started to shift, slitering back into his fist. When he opened his hand it had turned back into a seed.

Draxum hummed and took the seed between his fingers, inspecting it closely. what he was looking for, only he knew. One saved the rest of the seeds back in his pouch and stood stright, his hands behind his back, an expectant smile on his face as he looked at Draxum. He looked like Mikey when he gave someone a drawing and was waiting for the review.

"Not bad," Draxum finaly said, "not bad at all"

One really did his best to hide it, but he was beaming. His chest puffed up, and his smile grew slightly bigger, though it was enough to push his cheeks more, making his face look a bit rounder. Leo wasn't the only one to notice, he heard Mikey and Raph at his side trying to hide a squeel. Leo threw them a nasty look.

It was a little heartbraking to see that the only times One seemed genuinly happy was when Draxum gave him any kind of approval. That and when Donnie showed him his newest tech.

But Draxum raised his eyes at the kid and they had a critical look on them again. He gave him back the seed and waved his hand to dismiss the kid. One bowed slightly was about to return to his chair when Draxum stopped him

"Wait"

One looked back at him with a curious look, but the Baron said nothing for a while, just looking at him, he then frowned.

"Those are not the only ones you carry, are they?"

"W-w-what?" One stamered, seemenly confused, "y-ye, I mean, no. I just have those" though from his tone now it was more clear that he was hidding something, and while he often did a great job at that, only Leo being the one who could look through his bullshit, now it was plain obvious for everyone.

"You are lying to me" Draxum said, now in an authoritative tone that made One tense up.

He chuckled, a grin spreading across his face, his body relaxing in a second and taking a more casual pose with a hand on his hip, he crocked his head a little to the side "Oh please, why would I?" he laughed but it was a laught Leo knew, he was about to call him on his bullshit but Draxum beated him to it

"Number One" it was all it took.

Silence fell into the room at Draxum's authoritative voice, at his stance as he slowly stood up, towering over them. Luckly, everyone was looking at him, meaning they missed the flash of fear crosing One's face, they missed the tiny half a stepp he took back. By the time eyes started to shift from Draxum to him, he had already composed himself. a serious expression with a slight frown that would give him a Raph Chasm (TM) sooner than latter.

"You know I can feel them, right?" the Baron asked and the frown disapeared on One's face, his eyes opening slightly. His shoulders tensed up, his arms stright down, ending in tight fists. He stopped looking at Draxum, his eyes in a fixed point in front of him tought they didnt seem to be focusing on anything in particular.

For the first time since the younger red eared slider had showed up he had gone silent. a motified expression plastered on his face.

"One, you dont have to-" Splinter started but was cut off

"No" Draxum said, "where are you hiding it?"

"Draxum, leave the boy alone-"

"There is something different about this one," he said and turned back at the younger slider, "give it to me"

One didn't answer, he didnt move. He was frozen in place. But he was listening, he was thinking, his eyes moving side to side as he mentally saw his options, as he thought of a course of action. but he was slow, too slow, he wasn't landing anywhere.

"One?" Draxum repeated and this time it made the kid flinch, his head ducking a little.

After a beat he reached up with his hands, he said nothing, his lips sealed shut as he took his blue scar pullung the loop around his neck apart, his other hand gripped the dark hood from its back and pulled it off his shoulders.

Mikey left out a loud gasp, April almost yelled, but the one who was louder was Leo, standing up too quick and knowing back his chair. He said nothing, his mouth opened and closed but no word came out, he wasnted to say something, anything. he wanted to scream, to Draxum, to One, just in general. but he could do nothing but stare at the horrible scars going in a circle over One's shoulders. he was paralyzed as much as him.

One was staring down at the floor, an emotionless mask on that seemed to want to fall down. His chest moved up and down with deep, heavy breathes, and Leo started to wonder if he was fighting trough a panic attack, tough this would be the first one he sees coming from the boy.

"Where?" Draxum asked carefully and Leo shoot him a murderous look

One raised a shaky hand to his shoulder, his fingers sliding to his back, slipping under the lip of his shell. He still said nothing.

But Leo had found his voice

"You did this to him!?" he yelled at Draxum

"Dont be ridiculous" the goat yōkai said, of course it hadn't been him. It had been the other Draxum. and it had been on the time before his little "character arc"

It didn't quit the fact that this was fucked up. That One could have been any of them if they had fallen in the misfortune of being raised by Draxum. This could have been Leo's fate, this could have been any of his brothers...

No.

He yelled again, words that didnt register to One.

He was staring at the ground. it was all he could do. He didn't register the screaming match that started over the table, he didn't see who was holding back who or who knoked the things off the table as they tried to climb over it and reach the other side.

One brain didn't even register Draxum's words, he was talking, he was screaming too. He was saying something and all One could do was hope those words weren't directed at him because his voice came in muffled. He felt like he was underwater, he could hear them but he couldnt listen to anything they said, they voices distant.

He couldn't breathe.

One gasped, blinking a few times. His eyes focused and quickly took a look to his surroundings. He was no longer standing aside the table, he still could hear screams, he hasn't gone too far.

"One?" Mikey asked, he had a hand on his shell, had he pushed him away from the table? his other hand reached for One's wrist, graping it soft, but firmly

One stepped away, janking away his hand, he didnt even look at him, he started walking away. Where? he had no idea, just... away form there

I got carried away with this but yeah, something like that.

#separated leo au #this one was fun to think of #SLAU asks #SLAU seed #SLAU one #SLAU draxum #SLAU crossover #leo convention