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#he probably listened to the offspring
chososdiscordkitten · 2 months
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Just A Taste.
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Synopsis: Gojo wants to taste readers breast milk •⩊•
Pairing: Gojo xFem!Reader Content: some plot, mostly nasty stuff, no penetrative sex, nursing handjob, ADULT NURSING, he tries to convince reader to let him suck a lil sum, gojo being weird, mentions he didn't have a mom, BREASTFEEDING, mommy kink if you squint, PREGNANCY KINK, whiny satoru, overall just a lot of nipple and breast play
Dedicated to: @busyreader17 , my beloved for hyping me up to write this, ty<;33
(a.n) why do I only ever write about gojo being a pregnancy freak? has to be studied. wrote this listening to very dramatic classical music
MDNI
Gojo has always been hard headed, never thinking twice on talking back or starting an argument just to prove he was right. And that little quirk about him only enhanced when his child was born.
Even if you were the one who spent countless hours in the emergency room trying to give birth to his big headed child- Satoru insisted that he knew best for his offspring. And in extension- he knew what was best for you. 
“Formula isn't good enough for my child.” he retorted when you mentioned how painful it was to breastfeed his gnawing child.
And when you'd bring up that you were ready to start working again- “You don't have to work- that's why you have me.” 
Little by little Gojo started dictating most of the aspects of your life. There was little to no resistance from you though- you didn't mind his overbearing fatherly tendencies when it came to protecting his family.
But there was one thing, just one thing you'd complain about if you could.
As stubborn as Satoru was in day to day life- he was equally, if not more stubborn in bed. Especially in one specific area.
Gojo begged. Begged on his knees as he watched you pump. Sitting on the couch and bouncing your knee as his hands held onto your calf, “I just want to taste-” he pouted, eyebrows pinched upwards. 
“Satoru.” you gritted through your teeth- hearing the whirr of the machine on your chest. He sighed as he placed his forehead to your knee, mumbling something about how mean you were to him.
This newfound need to taste the milk from your breasts was mildly irritating, not being able to take your shirt off without his eyes prying- parting his lips before asking again.  
Satoru would be lying if he said that anytime your breasts would leak against his chest midway through fucking- it didn’t take every ounce of strength he had to not trail his lips down to your puffy nipple. 
So, so, very tempting. But he'd refrain from acting on his urges, knowing you'd probably shake him off or tell him to stop completely. So instead of doing it without your permission, he settled on asking you anytime he could. 
At first you thought this was just him wanting to know what it tasted like, but when you offered him a small sip from a cup he said- “If i'm gonna drink it, I want it straight from the source.” to which you said, “I guess you're never gonna taste it then.” before tossing the small sip down the sink. 
He must've asked 3 times a day. Gojo needed it so bad- he would beg on his knees at your feet, looking up at you like an abused puppy that you were being far too cruel to.
And you always said no. 
But, your objections sounded like ‘maybe one day’ to his ears. 
So one very early morning, 4 maybe 5 am- you were standing at the kitchen counter, holding the little pumping machine to your right breast as your face churned with a grimace. Your nipples were sore, from the machine sucking harshly and from how often you had to do it.
You had just started filling one of the little bottles, and as though Gojo knew what you were doing, he walked in. Squinting at you, almost asking what you were doing at this hour- till his eyes landed on your breasts you didn't bother to cover. “Go back to sleep, I'll be done soon.” you muttered in a groggy voice as the whirring woke Satoru up from the hazy state he was in. 
He took a few steps towards you- resting his elbows on the counter as he watched the machine milk you. Jealous that a stupid machine had the right to and he didn't. 
The sun not even breaching the skyline made the room dim and dusky. 
You didn't mind if he watched- but that's all you'd ever grant him. But directly after sex- when his chest would be drippng with the light cream colored liquid that leaked from your breasts while he fucked you- and as he looked down to his sculped body in the bathroom, the sink running on a hand towel as you waited for him to come back to help clean you up.
His fingers couldn't help but swipe at the liquid before placing it on his tongue. The whisper of your taste on his tongue made one thing clear in his mind. If he couldn’t wrap his lips around your nipple and suck till there was nothing left- if you wouldn’t grant him that one favor, the closest thing he had was to fuck you in missionary from now on. Hoping one day he would ask you mid way through- and you’d be too fucked out to say anything but yes.  
True if he really wanted to taste you- he could just reach into the freezer and thaw a bag of the pumped milk to try it. But he didn't just want to taste it- he wanted to feel it fill his mouth directly from the source. How warm it would be as it slid down his throat. And god- from the small tastes he's gotten, it's so sweet. You taste so fucking sweet.
His eyes watched as the plastic bottle filled up with milk, almost hypnotized by the liquid. You winced as the machine sucked at your sore nipple, which only made the cogs in Satoru’s brain start churning with schemes. 
With soft eyes he fluttered his white eyelashes up to you, “Does it hurt?” he whispered, looking at your expression that looked more irritated than pained. You nodded your head slowly, “It feels like when your foot is asleep,” you muttered, “but not the ‘numb’ kind of asleep, like the kind that hurts anytime you move it.” you continued as you closed your eyes, exhausted and very ready to go back to bed. 
Satoru raised himself from the counter, taking steps over to you as you felt his presence loom next to you. “Nd you have to do it all the time too-” he scoffed, playing the sympathy card so you'd think he was on your side. 
He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, “They always look so full,”  he murmured against your skin, you hummed in response, agreeing with what he was saying as he wrapped his hand around your waist, placing his chin on your shoulder. “So painful.” he hummed as his hands dared to trace up your bare torso. 
“I can help, y’know.” The tone he said those words sounded sincere- almost as though he was just trying to make this easier for you, you let out a hum in disbelief, “Unless you're a baby who refuses to latch- no you can't.” you mumbled with a groggy voice. 
Your words came out as a retort- but in Gojo’s ears they sounded like a challenge. 
It was true, his child had the same stubborness as Satoru, refusing to eat anything that didn’t come from a plastic bottle. Thus the pumping and the overproduction of milk that was piled high in the freezer by now. You had half the mind to sell it or empty them down the drain, I mean what child is gonna drink that much? Even if it was a Gojo heir- no child drinks that much milk. 
But the thought pained Satoru, it only reminded him of the times where that frozen milk could have been in his mouth rather than in plastic bags. 
Satoru kept a light touch as his hand trailed to the side of your ribs, scooping the bottom of the free breast you hadn’t pumped yet. Feeling the weight in his hand as he lifted it lightly, and you were just tired enough to let him. “They're so heavy.” he whispered in a coo as you blinked your eyes open, fully registering what he was trying to do. 
You furrowed your eyebrows, “Don't be gross, ‘toru.” you spoke in a clearer voice, earning a small laugh to ring into your ear as his hand gently grasped the side of your full breast. “What's gross about wantin’ to help?” He murmured in your ear, his hand keeping a light graze as his pointer finger brushed past your tender nipple, you hissed at the feeling causing Satoru to hum an understanding ‘I know.’ into your ear. 
You couldn't see his face but you were sure he was pleased with himself, “That's all I wanna do.” his words sounded wholehearted. Almost earnest as his large hand held onto your breast with a light touch, “I'll be sooo gentle, I promise.” he closed his eyes feeling your breast fill his palm with ease, “I just wanna help you,” he whispered as he pressed the off button on the little machine, guiding your hand to place it on the counter as he pressed an honest kiss to your ear. 
You knew that filling those little bottles would have taken way too long, then the thought of how much faster it would be if you let him- “Let me help you.” 
Satoru’s silver tongue was never your favorite part of him, you never liked how easy it was for him to hide the truth behind seemingly sincere words. 
His brushing fingertips against your sore nipples didn't help either, his fingers were very, very close to squeezing the suede ring of color around the hardened peak- Satoru wanted to see if small rivulets would spurt out of your nipples if he squeezed. 
You inhaled feeling the warm pads of his fingertip caress at your tender nipple. If Satoru wasn't trying to convince you of something, you'd admit it felt nice. You scoffed, “Don't make it nasty ‘toru-” you caved, sighing with an exhausted tone, feeling his warm palms lift your heavy breasts.
Gojo’s mouth had been salivating from the second he walked into the kitchen, and as you said those words he gulped hard. “Course not~” he mumbled, allowing the truth to seep out in his words. 
And as he guided you to sit onto the couch as you've done plenty of times when you'd pump, he already knew how he wanted to be fed, he had thought about it over and over again. And settled on this position, his back was pressed against the tops of your thighs. His long legs extended onto the couch- unashamed of his cock rising from staring at the cream droplet that threatened to fall from your nipple.
Even if this act was obscene and borderlining on too far- you were grateful he didn't make any teasing remarks on how little it took for him to convince you this time. That and how his mouth would have been filled soon enough, so you wouldn't worry about that. 
Your hand was on the back of his head, fingers filled with lily white hair as he fought back a smile. Only the gleam in his eyes showed you just how excited he was. Satoru’s lips parted as his eyes darted back and forth from your sore nipple up to your face that was warm with embarrassment. All but asking for permission as you watched his bottom lip quiver in anticipation. 
With pinched eyebrows, you guided his head towards your aching breast, Gojo’s lips parted awaiting your puffy nipple. His tongue covered the bottom of his teeth- a low groan rumbled onto your skin as he lightly pressed his parted lips onto the skin around your nipple.
You watched with a grimace look on your face, not knowing why he would offer this- let alone enjoy it. 
Satoru’s tongue circled at your hardening nipple, lapping softly as he tried to keep his promise of being gentle as the essence of the milk lingered on his tongue. A small huff left your lip as he rested his tongue at the bottom of your nipple, protecting it from his pearly teeth. 
His hands rested atop his tummy as you caressed the back of his scalp, you nodded your head as a form of permission, giving Satoru the ‘ok’ that he could start- his lips were slow to start sucking, pulling your nipple further into his mouth with a lactogenic motion from his tongue.
Before now, Satoru wasn't fully sure how to nurse if you let him, he knew it wasn't like just sucking your nipple. But the second he felt the sore apex of your breast press against the roof of his mouth, sucking in as much of your breast as he could, his tongue massaged the bottom of your tit to coax the milk to come out. 
The motion came to him as an instinct, as though nursing was engraved in his marrow from the minute he was pulled into this world. 
It took very little effort to pull milk to the surface. But the moan that reverberated onto your breast from a fat droplet hitting Satoru’s tongue- it was bordering on pornographic. It was as though he saw the pearly gates of heaven when the droplet infiltrated the taste buds of his tongue.
No matter how much fantasizing he did, or any of the ghost-like tastes- nothing. Nothing, could have prepared him for how fucking heavenly you tasted.
Your milk was warm, thick enough to leave a light cast on his tongue as he tried to suckle more liquid from your nipple. Gojo’s mouth was latched onto you in a way you knew it would hurt to pull him off.
Satoru’s gaze threatened to shut as you looked down at him. His head coddled in your hand as he kept faltering eye contact with you. Only making this feel even more salacious than it should have. 
No, this was only supposed to be a way for him to help- a way to remove the aching pressure from your breasts and save some time.
But that look in his eyes, the way his eyebrows were furrowed- almost as though he was sucking your tit in spite. 
That was till a bigger wave of your milk rushed into his mouth, earning an almost anguished whimper to pulse against your skin.
Your eyes squinted trying to figure out if he was exaggerating- only the way his eyes struggled to stay open, the blush across his cheeks and the satisfied smile on the perked corners of his lips, convinced you he was being genuine. 
With every ooze of the prized liquid he suckled from your plump breast, Satoru swallowed. Not wanting any to spill from his lips as you placed your hand on his chest that was threatening to start hyperventilating. Too focused on suckling as much milk as he could to even consider keeping a steady breathing pattern. The warmth of his mouth on your tender nipple was soothing, comforting almost.
Gojo’s eyes were half lidded and hazy- trying his very best not to let them roll to the back of his head as the dulcet milk trickled down his throat. 
Unwillingly a small whimper fled his latched lips as his eyes closed, chest heaving from the taste of you coating his mouth. You huffed a small breath from his greedy tongue sucking harder on your nipple. 
Rubbing your hand on his chest to soothe the little whimpers that rumbled your breast, thankful his eyes were closed when they rolled to the back of his head. His trapped cock was shouting at him for attention, be it instinct or just wanting to relieve the ache- his hand slowly trailed down his tummy, only your eyes were too focused on his seemingly intoxicated expression to notice. 
Your hand holding his head up started rubbing gently at his scalp, seeing frustration form on his delicate features- unknowing why. But you were almost trying to soothe him as whimpers vibrated onto your breast. Watching his eyebrows furrow and the growing blush on his cheeks to deepen as his eyes fluttered open.
Looking up at you from the slightly obstructed view from below, your palm on his chest being able to feel how hard his heart was beating. And as your eyebrows furrowed with a breathy sigh- you watched the familiar look in Satoru’s eyes glimmer past white lashes. 
You inhaled sharply, feeling his tongue trail from massaging the bottom of your nipple to the little mound that provided the milk. Tracing the tip of his tongue on your bud causing you to hiss his name in a warning. 
That's all it took for him to continue suckling on your sore nipple. You were about to rest back onto the couch with a sigh, caressing the back of his head as you felt relief wash over your shoulders, allowing him to take what he needed and then some. 
That was till your eye caught his bicep flexing- and you trailed your eyes down his pale arm parting your lips in shock as you watched his unashamed hand palm himself through his gray sweats. 
You huffed- only it came out in a breathy sigh rather than in the reprimanding tone you meant it to. Satoru only moaned as he heard his name fall from your lips, feeling his mouth suck rougher in order to pull more milk from your heavy breast that threatened to suffocate his nose.
His hand hesitantly removed itself from the stiff bulge of his sweats, landing on your wrist that was on his chest. His hazy cerulean eyes filled with the kind of mist you only see when he's premeditated something long before you knew of it.
Satoru’s fingers wrapped around your wrist as he greedily drank from your nipple, so greedily that the corners of his mouth were threatening to leak the honeyed fluid- he was suckling so much, he couldn't swallow fast enough.  
And as the little droplets stained the sides of Gojo’s jaw, trailing down his pale skin- he led your hand to extend over to his strained bulge. Knowing if you truly were uncomfortable by this, you would've pulled away the second you saw him palming himself.
You inhaled as his hand led you to his cock by your wrist, gasping softly with a tingle on your cheeks from how hard he was. Satoru placed his larger hand atop yours, pressing it onto his painful erection with a whine rippling through your skin. 
You flashed your eyes from the gray fabric that trapped his neglected cock, back to his eyes. Threatening to blink shut as you kept a gentle grasp on his bulge. Even if he was the one in your lap, nursing at your breast in a way that can only be described as voracious. That look on his face was smug, almost as though he was right this entire time and you were the hard headed one.
Satoru trailed his hand onto your forearm, smiling to himself as you started softly palming his prominent bulge. 
Your eyebrows were pinched upwards, trying very, very hard not to shift your thighs beneath his back to relieve the ache forming between them.
You felt bad, like the only reason he was palming himself- almost in a sad way, was because you allowed this to happen. It wasn't guilt- but you wanted to apologize in some way. 
Satoru’s mouth suckled in no pattern, his only goal was to drain every single gush of milk you offered. No matter how fervent he must've looked right now, he didn’t care. As long as he could feel your warmth in his throat- your taste coating the cavern of his mouth- he didn’t care if he looked like a starved man.
You sighed almost in pity as he let out various throaty whimpers, firmening your fingers around the print in his sweats. “Oh ‘toru~” you soothed, knowing how hard he was- it had to be painful. Your cheeks tingling and warm as his hips bucked up into your hand for more friction. 
And as your hand cradled onto the back of his head, you maneuvered the hand on his bulge to free it from its torment. 
For the first time since he latched onto your nipple, his lips parted from your breast with a low moan. The cold morning air hitting his pinkening tip causing him to furrow his eyebrows, but all it took was for the feeling to settle before he attached onto your draining nipple once more.
You didn't hesitate to place your hand onto his base, feeling the light trails of his precum on his shaft from how worked up he was, tempting a gasp to leave his lips, you looked at him.
And as though he was made to do it- Satoru lightly ran his tongue at your budding nipple, lapping up the white sweetness that leaked from your breast. 
You kept a light touch on his cock, his hand on your upper arm before gently resting it on the swell of your other breast. Thinking to himself how rude of him that he was neglecting your other equally tender nipple. 
Satoru lightly thumbed your nipple, feeling light drips wet his thumb. Enticing you to slowly start stroking him, stopping your grasp right before your fingers could roll onto his flushed tip. Knowing he wouldn't last long if you worked over his cockhead. 
The moans that rumbled from Gojo’s throat and onto your sensitive skin were full of desperation and bliss. You watched him in almost pity- trickles of your milk falling from the sides of his lips, making trails of white drip down his cheeks.
It didn’t take long for him to finish draining your breast, somewhere in his mind he knew there was nothing left in your left tit, but that didn't stop him from trying to slurp up any remaining droplets.
Gojo’s cheeks felt like they were boiling on his face, and with one last lap of your nipple, he unlatched from your breast. Huffing softly as his breath tickled your damp nipple, he looked up at you, an amazed and out of breath expression formed on his face as you wiggled your eyebrows. 
It was embarrassing, the way your milk left trails of a light white film on his cheeks, the way he was breathing heavily with his cock in your hand. Vulnerable. 
Satoru saw your flushed face- and to comfort you he raised himself from the tops of your thighs lightly, keeping a massaging hand on your unsucked breast as he pressed his plump lips to yours.
It was filthy- Mouths dancing against each other in pure delirium. Being able to taste yourself on his tongue- on his spit laced with milk. It was like Gojo did that to show you just how exquisite you tasted. Only for your hand to keep its snail pace, avoidant of his crying tip. 
His lips pulled from yours, looking into your eyes and thumbing your weeping white nipple. Soft opened mouth moans coming from his lips as your hand stroked tenderly.
Rare were the times when Satoru was silent during intimacy, usually babbling teasing nonsense. But this time, the carnal look in his eye told you everything you needed to know. His senseless prattling wasn't even a thought in his mind right now, burning beneath his skin was pure and utter hunger. Hunger, to taste you- to drink from you. To nurse, over and over again. 
The one thought that lingered in his mind was to make sure to keep you pregnant- keep you in a state to continue producing the warm comfort he hardly had as a child. 
Gojo licked his bottom lip, mouth salivating as he felt the warm liquid trickle onto his palm. He leaned back slightly, looking down to your swollen nipple rolling between his fingers. Then trailing his gaze to your slow stroking hand, Gojo was sure he had never been so hard in his life till now. 
He licked his lips before cupping the side of your heavy breast in his palm, slowly shifting himself down to align himself with your right breast. Your hand followed the back of his scap, guiding him to latch onto your dripping nipple. 
Satoru opened his mouth, closing his eyes when he felt the skin of your breast fill his mouth again. Running his tongue across your neglected nipple and tasting the essence his fingers had squeezed out. A throaty whine leaving his nose as he started suckling, so enthralled by your taste and the gentle way you stroked him. Keeping his kneading hand on the side of your breast to assist in guiding more milk into his mouth.
Your cheeks were warm, tingling from how lewd he looked at that moment. The little whimpers that came from him didn't help either. 
Happily, Satoru let those unfiltered whines pour from him, if it meant you'd know how much he was enjoying himself. 
And as your hand slightly passed his tip on the upturn, he gasped against you. Almost as a warning, he sucked harder on your sore nipple in return. Gojo let out muffled cries from your hand stroking past his tip, even if you couldn't see it- his eyes were rolled to the back of his head as he suckled instinctively. You looked away from his face- churned with an insatiable greed. 
Looking at his pinkening cock in your hand as the veins on his lower abdomen stood proud beneath his skin. His chest was heaving once more, forced to take heavy inhales through his nose as he felt the knot in his tummy tighten. 
Satoru’s whines started to rumble louder against you, watching an inhale reach down his torso, his tummy caving from how hard he exhaled. He was so close. So fucking close and fighting it at this point. You could see it in his scrunched eyebrows and desperate suckles. 
You lightly scratched your nails onto his scalp, “It’s okay ‘toru,” you sighed softly, gaining his cerulean eyes to open slightly and look up at you. You were flustered sure, but you wanted to assure Satoru that he could cum whenever he liked. He didn't need to hold off for your sake. 
Only when he saw the soft smile on your lips- something deep within him snapped. It didn't click before, even with your hand tenderly stroking him and your tit in his mouth, even as he was nursing directly from your breast. It still didn't click. 
But when you soothed his whimpers, the tender smile you had on your lips as he took and took from you. The nurturing tone you assured him with. That's when it made sense. That's when he realized why he had been longing to help you in this way. 
Before he didn’t really question it- thought it was just something weird he found hot amongst all his other strange fantasies. But now. Now it made sense. 
Your mind was a mess, barely able to process the words that fell from your lips naturally. Gojo’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as you polished his cockhead, his hips bucking up into it in response. You watched as he let go of that final reservation, sucking harshly causing more of your milk to spill from the corners of his lips with frustrated whines. Being able to feel his orgasm tighten in his stomach. 
The hand on your breast was practically milking you, squeezing milk into his mouth rather than his tongue nursing at it, his nose was scrunched as he exhaled a ragged breath through his nose. Your nipple was starting to ache from the vibrating whimpers and moans, and instead of telling him to stop, you raked your fingers through his hair gently. “Shh, I know, I know.” you crooned, keeping a steady pace on his cock as he simmered his whimpers. 
Ever since Satoru told you he had little to no memories of his mother, you knew he had mommy issues. And when he started asking to taste your milk you were hesitant, knowing once that pandora's box was opened there was no use trying to close it again.
Only as you looked down at him, how content and blissful he looked- unlike anything you've ever seen before, you didn't mind if it didn’t close again. 
Satoru parted his eyes, feeling his orgasm slowly slip in his tummy, you watched as his eyes fluttered back to his head- mumbling something in the sound of ‘m’cummi-’ against your skin as you sped up your pace. His hips twitching up into your hand as you jerked him quickly, his lungs could barely handle how little air he was inhaling, his brain fuzzy as he slurped and lapped at your nipple. 
Gojo saw stars as you stroked him past the pinnacle you worked him up, his eyes squinted harshly as his lips unlatched from your breast, throaty groans mixed with whines fell from his lips as his orgasm oozed over your hand. When your thumb caressed the opening on his tip, his cock spurted out another pump of his cum with a whine. 
As you helped work through his orgasm, smaller pumps of his seed assisted in the wet strokes you gave him, Satoru latched back onto your breast with a content sigh, needing to drain as much as he could, his cock slowly softening in your hand. 
And as he drank the rest of your milk you rested your hand on his lower belly, waiting for him to finish taking what he needed. His mouth wasn’t suckling as frantically nor hurried as before. You relished in the warmth his lips provided with a sigh, closing your eyes as the sun started rising. Being able to see the light through your closed eyes. 
When Satoru couldn't taste any more milk coming from your drained breast, he hesitantly pulled away. Resting his head in your hand as he looked up to the ceiling hazily, milk drunk as your breasts obstructed his view.
He inhaled, “Throw away that stupid machine.” you sighed, knowing he’s hated the breast pump since he saw you use it for the first time. 
“What am I gonna do when you're not around?” you murmured, thinking of a world where you wouldn't have access to a pump. 
“Call me and I'll find you.” 
You let out a small laugh. Leaning your back onto the couch as Satoru setted on your hand. “So fucking weird.” You murmured, hearing him let out a smiley breath. 
Satoru sat up, turning to you with an endearing gaze, “Only cause I like you soooo much.” he claimed, pressing a kiss onto your temple before standing. Reaching out for your hand, ignoring the mess on his tummy, pulling you to stand as he led you to the master bathroom. 
“What do you want for breakfast?” you muttered behind him, watching him halt his steps and looking back at you, “What?” he asked with a smug smile and creased eyebrows. 
You furrowed your eyebrows, “...Breakfast?” not understanding what was confusing about the question. 
Satoru scoffed, “What for? You just fed me.” he spoke sweetly, watching the grimace on your face churn with an appalled ‘ugh!’ as you snapped your hand away from his. You scoffed as he reached for your hand again, pulling you into his arms. Peppering kisses over your features as you groaned.
“You’re so nasty.” you scoffed as he stepped forward, leading you into the bathroom with various kisses on your cheeks. 
You were sure this little activity Satoru found so much attraction in, would make its way into your daily routine. Only you didn't mind it as much as you thought you would.
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
writing this added 3 years to my life dead ass.
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fayes-fics · 13 days
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Eden
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: Seeing you with other Bridgerton offspring has an interesting effect on your new husband...
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I couldn't resist using a Season 3 gif cos hello.
Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, breeding kink, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, vaginal sex, creampie, ie filthy babymaking. Also, the smut is bookended by fluff; yeah, that probably needs a warning, lol.
Word Count: 4.2k
Authors Note: This is a very belated request fill for @victoriaholland (HERE) and Anon (HERE) about Benedict with a touch of baby fever. I decided to combine the asks as I saw a way to weave them together. Sorry for the delay, but well at least babymaking seems appropriate for spring hehe. Thank you to @colettebronte for being an awesome beta, as always. Err, Enjoy! <3
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Daphne’s latest child is beautiful; you delight in his joy as he bounces on your lap, learning the strength of his sweetly chubby legs, little fists wrapped tight around your fingers. 
Looking up, you catch your husband's eye from afar, his stare intense across the gardens of Bridgerton House as you sit under a tented shelter upon a picnic blanket. The rest of the family are scattered around, playing games or chatting, but you are quite content minding the little one while his nanny takes a few moments to eat lunch.
“Is everything alright, my love?” You inquire as Benedict draws closer. 
“Yes… I….” He seems a little flustered. 
“Are you sure?” 
You pull a funny face for the infant, who breaks out into the most adorable infectious giggles that has you grinning from ear to ear and hugging him into your body, swaying with him. 
“Are you alright? Minding the child?” He checks, his voice a touch odd.
“Oh yes. We are more than happy, are we not, my little prince?” You talk in a vaguely silly baby-talk voice, addressing the child in your arms as much as Benedict. 
Again, the child peals with delighted noises and spit bubbles enthusiastically, looking up at Benedict eagerly as much as you do.
“Well, that is wonderful news,” he blusters, and you could swear he is out of sorts, breathless almost. “I shall… leave you to it,” he adds, giving you a bow and then withdrawing as the little one wiggles out of your arms.
“Ignore your Uncle Benedict; he is being a silly billy,” you whisper conspiratorially once the man in question is out of earshot.
The response is babbled nonsense as the child bashes one wooden brick against another.
“I quite agree,” you state sagely before breaking into a goofy grin.
——
“Please?” Hyacinth wheedles.
“No, Hy,” you sigh without even looking up.
“Ugh, you are no fun!” she scowls, crossing her arms defiantly.
“What is all this?” Anthony clips as he strides into the drawing room, Benedict on his heels, as Hyacinth flounces dramatically across the room. 
“Your little sister is angry at me because I will not allow her to drink the punch; it has brandy in it,” you explain cooly.
“Quite right, too!” Anthony chimes as Hyacinth rolls her eyes.
“Listen to y/n, Hyacinth, and do as she says,” Anthony lectures, and you feel grateful for his support, effectively neutering her rebellion. “Despite a temporary lapse of judgment when choosing a spouse, she is otherwise one of the most sensible people in this family.”
“Hey…!” Benedict protests.
“Please…” Anthony withers, twisting towards him. “Brother, if there is one thing us Bridgerton men know how to do, ‘tis to marry a woman entirely too good for us. And well done on that, by the way.”
You smirk at Anthony’s hilarious way of putting his brother - your husband - in his place, catching Kate’s eye with a wink as she enters the room carrying her baby. 
“Y/n, come and meet the future Viscount; he’s awake at last,” she calls to you. 
You are immediately on your feet and grinning, taking the tiny bundle from her arms and cooing at the sweet little boy. The baby opens his enormous brown eyes and observes you for a second before breaking into a one-toothed grin and happily waving his fists at you.
“Oh, he really likes you!” Kate enthuses, delighted.
“As I do you, little one,” you smile, leaning over to kiss his forehead.
You look up to see Benedict with that same look on his face as earlier. A tempest, almost an energy over his being. It’s almost as if he is… aroused?! Which is most odd.
As you hand the baby back to Kate, giving him one final kiss, Benedict is suddenly by your side. Announcing to the family that there has been a change of plan and, regrettably, you will not be able to stay for dinner, his arm an insistent tug around your waist.
——
“Why did we not stay for family dinner as originally planned, my love?” 
Your question is soft, only just audible over the noise of the carriage as you trundle over the cobbled streets of Mayfair a few minutes later. 
“I decided that we should perhaps dine at ours this evening…” his voice adopting that deeper edge which always causes butterflies in your tummy. His hand lands on your knee, a heavy weight that feels portentous. He slides closer on the bench seat.
“Why might that be?” your ask turns breathy, entirely without you meaning it to.
“I want to be alone with you,” he murmurs, unmistakably pitched to arouse. 
The carriage seems to notch up a few degrees as the rocking motion presses your side rhythmically into his. The sound of the wheels and hooves is so loud. He twists to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pulls your back against his flank. 
“All day today, I have watched you,” he rumbles, hand warming the skin around your clavicle, fingertip brushing in circles. “You are so very good with children, darling. Seeing you so naturally with the babies and how you handled Hyacinth… you would be the perfect mother.”
You blush a little at his praise. “Thank you, my love. I would like children one day. Your children. Imagine a child with your eyes. They would be quite the most beautiful,” you sigh wistfully, leaning back into him, his hand feeling heavier on your skin.
Benedict chuckles modestly. “And what of your beauty? Would a child version of you not be the most fetching?”
You giggle and turn your head sideways to nuzzle against his jaw. “I think we would indeed make beautiful babies together, Benedict.”
“I agree,” his voice a tempting lilt, fingers skating downwards over the swell of your breast now, slipping inside the fabric and making you gasp as he tweaks your nipple. “And I think we should start as soon as we get home.”
“Did seeing me with babies suddenly make you want your own, Mr Bridgerton?” Your hand flexes on his knee as he toys with your breast.
“Oh yes darling, it made me want to take you right there…” he asserts, finally admitting those looks he gave you were indeed pure arousal.
You reach up and run your hand into his hair, fingers flexing on his warm scalp as you pull his face to yours.  “And suddenly, it appears I am no longer hungry for dinner…” you whisper flirtatiously, your cupid's bow brushing his stubbled upper lip.
He groans, and his passionate kiss is plundering, a tingle running over your limbs, just as your carriage comes to a shuddering stop outside your townhome. 
Uncaring of the neighbourhood or any prying eyes, Benedict sweeps you out of the carriage in his arms, carrying you bridal style over the pavement and through your front door.
“My wife and I are not to be disturbed,” he announces crisply and loudly to the staff as you enter the hallway.
Leaving no room for doubt about his plans by pulling you into a searing kiss for all to see before ascending the stairs rapidly. He practically growls as he kicks open the door to your master bedroom door and slams it shut again with his foot. 
“Benedict…” you stammer, heart pounding at how overwrought he is. 
You have never seen him like this. Commanding, crackling with an energy that has your body simmering. He is usually so sweet, affable, and kind. Every time you have been intimate since your wedding night a few weeks ago, he has been a complete gentleman: loving and so very tender. The grip he has had on you tonight feels different. This is something primal—like a switch has been flipped at a basal level in his being.
He places you down onto your feet before the roaring fire, his face intense.
“Wife…” The way he says it makes you feel a flush creep over your skin.
“Husband…” you respond in kind, belly fluttering with excitement.
“Take off your dress,” he orders, his dilated pupils shining in the firelight.
This is new. Usually, he is the one to remove it slowly and softly from your body. 
“I cannot, the buttons…” you confess, signalling behind you. You would need your ladies' maid to unhook them from between your shoulder blades.  
He moves closer, seeming so much taller; his ragged breaths dance in the tendrils of your hair as he reaches around behind your shoulders. With a rough tug that makes you startle, he tears the fabric asunder, the sound of tiny pearl buttons skittering across the polished wooden floor behind you as you gasp in surprise.
“There…” he smirks dangerously, “problem resolved.”
You are speechless as he withdraws a pace, looking at you expectantly. You follow his order, a slight quake in your hands as you push the frayed dress down your body, still a little shocked by his strength. Then you reach for the crisscross lacing of your stays, feeling the weight of his stare as each loop relents, his eyes hungry, his body heaving with deep breaths his fitted jacket taut with each inhale. You peel the item away, leaving just your thin white cotton chemise.
“Rip it too,” you plead before you realise it, enthralled by this assertive demeanour.
With a noise in the back of his throat, he takes a pace forward again, and you stare up at him, enchanted. He grasps the fabric above your breasts and then rips it loudly from your chest all the way to your ankles, the sound echoing up the walls. Again, his strength has your knees weak. As the torn pieces flutter from your body, you want to bathe in the hungry sound he makes as he realises you are clad only in white knee-high silk stockings, no underwear to be seen, the warmth from the fireplace swirling around your intimate area. 
As you stand almost naked before your imposing husband, him still fully dressed, there is a knot low in your gut. But it’s not fear; it’s something else entirely—desire. Trembling, breathless and wanting. An elemental wish to be thoroughly taken.
He steps forward, eyes glittering, and his fingers plough roughly between your legs, making you gasp.
“Eden,” he proclaims, his fingers snagging over your swollen pearl of a clit with almost rough strokes, the callous where he holds his paintbrush abrading your folds. “A wonderful, lush, wet garden. Just waiting to be planted.”  His words are hypnotic and low, questing fingers being coated with a dewiness that is entirely of his making.
“Please…” you whimper, squirming on his touch, captivated by this version of your husband, wanting to submit to him, a burning need low in your belly. His fingers slide faster, making a lewd, wet noise. 
“Are you going to let me?” Benedict croons. “Plant my seed inside you?”
Until now, he has always been careful to complete outside your body. A slightly bereft feeling every time - the wonderful moment cut short as he leaves you suddenly empty, a warm splash upon your thighs, tummy or spine. The idea he will stay inside you is alluring in a way you don’t fully comprehend.
“Yes, please, husband,” your nipples puckering almost painfully against the wool of his lapels as he crowds into you. 
“Good. Get on that bed right now,” Benedict orders roughly, pointing at your four-poster bed as he tugs off his jacket.
You scramble to obey. Feeling under a spell. Being naked save your stockings feels illicit as you lay back into the soft pillows and watch as he undresses, staring you down the whole time. 
You slide a hand between your legs instinctively as more of his toned body is revealed. He growls at the sight, you biting your lip and watching him, his torso bare, his trousers clinging to his shapely legs, to his swollen cock. He bends to remove his shoes, and the sight of his broad shoulders flexing is enough to make you moan. As he stands back up and hooks his elegant fingers around the trouser buttons, a smug look on his handsome face that he is doing this to you.
“Husband…” you call out to him, writhing on your fingers shamelessly now, one hand shooting up to brace your movements against the headboard, flushing warm down to your toes.
With a few dextrous flicks, the buttons relent, and his trousers drop to the floor. His naked body is always a delicious sight, but tonight feels more, every sense heightened, moaning again as he takes a step towards you, thigh muscles flexing, his cock standing proud to attention.
Again, a soft plea falls from your lips, your eyes raking every plain of his tempting form, feeling yourself swell under your fingertips.
“Not yet,” he clucks, the arrogance somehow more beguiling as you bite your lip. “I think I want to watch you come, my darling. All by yourself. I hear female pleasure can aid with conception after all.”
“Will you not touch me?” you petition, reaching your other hand imploringly towards him.
“No darling, I shall watch,” his lopsided grin deadly. 
He wraps a strong fist around his own cock, pumping slowly, a bead of moisture gathering at his tip, glistening in the candlelight as he does. 
“Now, use both hands, please. Place your fingers inside yourself,” Benedict instructs as you blindly follow, a languid buzz in your brain—you would do anything he told you to right now.
Planting your feet squarely on the bed, you drag your ankles up higher towards your bottom, letting your legs fall open wider to give him a better view as your other hand slides down. You plunge two fingers into yourself, your hips canting off the mattress with a staccato breath at the sensation of yourself, so hot and tight.
“That's right,” he endorses, a leisurely movement of his hand up and down his cock as he watches you from a few feet away. “‘Feel yourself, darling. Tis paradise, is it not?” that trademark rumbling voice skittering over your skin, goosebumps raising down your arms just at the tone. 
“Come closer,” you appeal breathily, wanting to smell him, feel his heat, his flesh—anything.
He shakes his head, smirking wider as his refusal spurs you on, desperate to come. Mewling as your fingers speed up, one circling your clit, the others buried as far as you can, wishing instead it were his long, graceful fingers reaching places you are unable. Watching him squeeze his own cock hurtles you fast, already aroused from the moment he slid a hand into your dress in the carriage. 
Unable to fight the tide in your body, you screw your eyes shut and call out his name as your pussy starts to convulse around your own fingers, toes curling into the sheet, your muscles all going stiff, your hips again raised as you feel the tide break. A gush of wetness runs down your palm and your bottom cheeks as your mind floats away. Distantly, you can hear him speaking, but it’s fuzzy as you flop back down, sated, your legs going flat, too shaky to balance.
You startle as a warm hand circles the wrist of your fingers still inside yourself, bringing you abruptly back into the room. Benedict looms over you, his chest heaving, that power still there.
“What was that?” your query drowsy, lips dry.
He chuckles richly. “I said that was spectacular,” he repeats, bemused. “But also that I want you to paint your nipples with your arousal, my love, for me,” he commands, tugging your hand so your fingers slide out of yourself.
You do as bidden, still floating down from the high, smearing your own warm juices onto your puffed areolas.
“Perfect..” he intones.
In one swift, athletic move, he mounts the bed. You cry out as his warm mouth encloses your left nipple, groaning lewdly as he licks you clean of your arousal, his tongue a heavy, warm, wet weight curling around your sensitive bud, his lips tugging gently, reawakening those synapses only just recovering from your orgasm. 
“Why do you always taste like heaven?” his dusky question is rhetorical, his breath gusting over your sternum as he swaps to your other breast to meter out the same treatment. He has you moving under him again as he settles his body over you more firmly, your hips tilting up to feel his hard cock graze your inner thigh. “I wonder if you will still taste like heaven when you are heavy with my child?” he hums thoughtfully as he teases your nipple with the tip of his nose, one hand cupping your empty belly. “I dare say even moreso, ripe like a vine, bearing fruit…” That sonorous voice teases over your skin as he moves slowly upwards to nuzzle your neck. “My fruit….” he adds, possessive as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, so loud now right by your ear.
His hands wind around your thighs as he shuffles position so he is kneeling between your legs, his ropey thighs spread wide under yours…
“Are you ready for that, my love?” he pauses until you nod almost imperceptibly; you squeak as he suddenly hauls you down the bed, hips onto his lap, your pelvis now higher than your head upon the sheets. Your stockings unfurling down your legs where he quickly plucks at the ribbons holding them aloft.
“Good, because I am more than ready for you,” it almost sounds like a warning.
Then, with a solid thrust, he spears into your body, the invasion toe-curling, your fingers grasping his muscular forearms that are clamped around your waist. It is a primal position, and he begins to thrust with no mercy, his cock feeling huge and heavy, a strong weight that drags heavily over your walls as your pussy clings to him. Your eyes flutter closed as you whimper his name, powerless to do anything but take his thrusts, draped across his lap as you are.
“Look at me,” he demands raggedly. And you do, his handsome face contorted with effort as he slams into you, a little bead of sweat forming on his brow. “Look at me while I fuck a baby into you, wife.”
He’s never spoken to you like this before, clipped, harsh. It seems appropriate that he would be almost desperate in an act so elemental, so of the earth—to create life. Stoking a fire deep in your core that is a clarion call for him, a frisson running over your skin at the idea you are being impregnated. Bred.
You know neither of you will last long with this almost frenzied coupling, the tendrils of your arousal already swirling so soon after your last, his near-brutish handling precisely what you need, your swollen pearl slammed into his flat abdomen with every stroke he takes. The sheets roll under your shoulder blades as he keeps the same position, your hips high, a mounting that you cannot and do not want to escape, knowing he is leaving fingertip bruises around the dip of your waist, marks you will carry secretly with pride just for him.
You moan his name, so close again to that ephemeral bliss, thrashing your head from side to side as if willing the pleasure to break and wash over you.
“Come on, come for me, milk me, darling. Take what you need, take my seed,” his voice a deep wrecked purr, the lines of his body tense, craving release as much as you.
That command is what breaks the dam for you, an almost violent ricochet fanning out from where you clench around him, his cries muffled behind the rushing noise in your ears, every part of you convulsing in a pleasurable wave. And then, in a floating haze, for the very first time, you feel your husband come inside you, a warm bloom that coats your walls. It's an intoxicating feeling; you never want him to come anywhere else ever again.
“That's it, well done, my love,” he croons, eyes still shut as he shudders with little aftershocks, not leaving your body—as if he wants to stay inside you always.
——
As the embers in the fireplace glow white, you lay in post-coital bliss, bodies dewy from exertion. Benedict rests his head upon your stomach as you card your fingers leisurely through his hair.
“Do you believe we may have made a baby, darling?” he hums, pressing his ear to your belly button as if listening for a heartbeat.
“I am certain of it, husband; you were so very thorough with your attentions,” you assure as he takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. “I hope our baby has your face,” you opine.
“Even if it is a girl?!”
“Thou art as pretty as thou art handsome, Mr Bridgerton,” you quip.
He laughs, carefree, crawling behind you and pulling you into a spooned embrace. “Be careful with such provocation, wife; I may not be done with you after all,” he jests idly. “I, on the other hand, hope our child looks like you, even if it is a boy.” he posits, crowding into your back, his lips warm on the shell of your ear.
“Why?” you laugh, frowning, twisting to look back at him.
“So that I may love them as much as I do you,” he breezes nonchalantly as if what he says is not the sweetest thing you can imagine, causing a tart, sudden spike of want through your body, even as you lay sated.
“Be careful, husband,” you volley back, coquettish. “Or I may not yet be done with you.”
There is a sharp, approving intake of breath, and his hand slides low from your belly into the thatch of hair at the apex of your thighs.
“Is that a promise” he rumbles, your gasp loud as his fingers expertly drag against your clit.
“It is whatever you want. Just do not stop,” you rush out, your hand curling around his bicep, feeling a rigid mass slide hot against your bottom. “Again, husband,” you appeal breathily. “Impregnate me again.”
“With pleasure, wife,” he growls, surging into your body with a force that again steals the very breath from your lungs.
The pinkish light dawn is streaking over the ceiling above when you both finally succumb to sleep after many more vigorous attempts at babymaking. The last one, perhaps the most desperate, you pinned against the headboard, him fucking into you so hard from behind that a jagged crack appears, spidering up the wall from where the bedframe slammed into it. A flaw which he steadfastly refuses to get fixed, claiming it to be the most profound art—a souvenir and ode to a momentous night.
——
9 months later
Benedict’s lips mash against your sweaty brow as he keeps lauding you with praise, excitement and pride evident in his every word. You flop back onto the bed, exhaustion deep in your bones, your body turned inside out, hurting in a way you have never known.
But it was all worth it.
What feels like only moments later, in your shattered, addled state, the doctor and nurses depart. Your husband perches on the bed next to you, his face a picture of wonderment. Holding not just one but two bundles of joy in the crooks of his arms. One girl, one boy—fraternal twins.
“My love, we have created the most beautiful creatures on all of this earth,” he attests partisanly, his voice profound with emotion, his eyes pinging from one swaddled face to the other as they sleep soundly.
You shoot him a watery but ironic smile. “I suppose, dear husband, that is what happens when you spend a whole night impregnating me. You succeed twice over.”
His brow raises pointedly, his tongue shooting out to pass over his bottom lip. “Are you suggesting next time around, wife, we keep going for three days straight? So that I may have a brood of eight by the time we are done?” Deploying his bedroom voice that he knows full well makes your knees weak.
“Do not say such things in front of the children!” you chide, swatting his knee where it touches your thigh. “And no, I am not carrying six of your progeny at once; that is simply preposterous!”
“Four?” he petitions with a wink.
You roll your eyes affectionately, settling back into the mound of pillows. “A maximum of two at a time is my final offer, Benedict Bridgerton,” you respond drolly.
“Entirely reasonable,” he chuckles contentedly, dropping a kiss onto each of their foreheads before handing both to you so delicately, as if they are the most precious bundles in the world. 
Which to you both, they are.
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Join my taglist HERE
Benedict taglist pt 1: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @notanotheruniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies
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2K notes · View notes
gemini-sensei · 8 months
Text
Prime | Jaime Reyes x Chubby!Reader NSFW Headcanons
Fem!Reader ○ NSFW but cute n' funny (IMO)
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💙 Khaji Da is keen on certain human interactions; others not so much. So sometimes there's restraint on its part, like not wanting to totally rip apart a threatening foe. However, sometimes it misses the mark, and being in tune with Jaime, it knows when he is totally in love with his girlfriend. So the comments it makes about a certain subject are still a little out of pocket, but at least it waited for the right time. Maybe.
💙 Just on a chill afternoon, when nothing is bothering literally anyone, Khaji "casually" brings up Reader's current state of being - that being in the middle of her cycle and "prime for mating."
💙 Jaime literally spits out his drink and anyone nearby gives him weird looks. Like, the Scarab on his back just says the most bizarre things in this completely serious way, and he can't act normal about it ever.
💙 He has to leave the room to have an argument with Khaji Da about what is appropriate and not appropriate points of conversation. Also scanning his girlfriend to check her fertility is out of line in his opinion and should not be done (I'll go ahead and tell you that Khaji does not listen to this tidbit.)
💙 "But Jaime, now is the time. The next natural step is to mate and produce offspring. Reader is not only in her prime state to mate, but she is a perfect partner to reproduce with-"
💙 "No! We're done talking about this! And don't say it like that! What even-"
💙 One time, when Reader is grinding down on Jaime's lap, hard-on trapped in his pants as they're just having fun, Khaji brings it up again: "She obviously wants you to mate with her, Jaime. Her body is ready to relieve your-"
💙 "Stop it!... not you, amor."
💙 Khaji Da literally never stops though. Uses the "It's in your best interest, Jaime" line a lot and Jaime gets annoyed with it every time.
💙 Don't get him wrong, Jaime wants a family of his own one day. He would just rather have that conversation with Reader and not the world-destroying alien weapon under his skin.
💙 Khaji Da knows Jaime wants a family and thinks he's in the perfect position in life to start one - meaning as long as he is alive and healthy then that's all the conditions that need to be met. Jaime disagrees.
💙 On the other hand, sex still happens even when Khaji is being persistent. Jaime just tries to ignore it. However, all of its suggestions and encouragement lead to a slight breeding kink.
💙 Jaime will have Reader in his arms, curves in his hands, chest to chest, making out, and Khaji feeds him ideas of what positions to be in and all of that fun stuff.
💙 Khaji says one thing about a mating press and Jaime has suddenly found his new favorite position.
💙 Now Jaime can go for multiple rounds, probably thanks to Khaji and all the energy it gives Jaime. Reader, on the other hand, cannot go as many rounds as him. So Khaji is constantly watching her vitals, her hydration levels, her energy levels, and more all throughout sex. When she's spent, it stops Jaime from giving her another orgasm, though a little overly cautious about it in the way it will physically make him recoil to get away from her.
💙 Khaji is always looking out for Jaime's best interest, so this includes looking out for Reader's wellbeing. (Also, Khaji likes Reader, so of course it's going to look out for her as well.) (If Khaji didn't like Reader, then there'd be some problems.)
💙 Aftercare king Jaime Reyes. He's so good at aftercare, but Khaji accidentally insults him when it tells him how much water Reader should have after they finish having sex. He mutters under his breath about how he knows how to take care of Reader and Khaji goes on a little spiel about her hydration levels and how they need to stay hydrated if they're going to be so "vigorously sexually active" and "conceive offspring."
💙 He tells it to shut up and brings Reader her water.
💙 Khaji brings up the "mating" idea every time Reader is "prime and fertile," and Jaime just has to deal with it. It becomes a one-note sort of thing after a while, like, it'll come up and Khaji will say something, and Jaime is just like "Uh huh." But once he and Reader start talking about it themselves, better believe that breeding kink is creeping back up and about to go full force.
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droopywrites · 6 months
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did you ever did a part 2 to jjk dudes meeting their child who’s from the future?
⋆。Part || of JJK MEN meeting their future kids。⋆
Author's notes: I don't think I've posted it! Considering it kind of left my mind and the old draft is gone, but I did write everything I remember here. Also, it's like 3am and I wrote this crying, not proofread.
CW: Swearing, killing, cannibalism(?) like mention of eating people, children.
Pronouns used for the kids: She/her for Geto and It/its for Sukuna.
Part | (Warning, it's from 2021)
Geto
Starting off strong with Geto.
Definitely another girl. He's such a girl dad.
On a regularly scheduled day like always; it was wake up, talk with his connections, mingle with his family, check on Mimi and Nana, see whatever the hell the non-sorcerers wanted, get greeted by a little girl that wasn't supposed to be on the estate...
What the fuck.
How did she even get here? Why is she here?
Geto would stare at this child in confusion and look around, waiting for someone to claim her.
He has a soft spot for children. Sorcerers, of course. Non-sorcerers, debatable.
So, low and behold this little girl running up to him to clutch at his robes. Him trying to pry her off of him with her relieved cries of "Papa! Papa!" escaping her lips.
Papa?
Holds her by the shirt's scruff like a cat and squints, ready to scold her but pauses when he sees her face.
Because, holy shit, that's literally his twin. And suddenly every rare hookup played in his mind.
But no, she looked no older than 3. He hadn't been with anyone at that time, or ever yet. Not that far.
Drops everything for the next couple of days just to make sense of the situation, only telling his beloved family.
Mimi and Nana fawn over the idea of a little sister but are a bit restrictive if it's not a permanent thing.
The girl didn't speak much except for addressing Geto, the twins, oh and you.
You...?
You.
You.
You, who had just returned from your trip overseas to oversee some tasks involving curses.
You, who the little girl immediately ran to and called "Mama! Mama!"
You, who Geto stared wide-eyed at and surprised as you two tried to settle the fact nothing even happened between you.
Yet.
When that little girl eventually left to her own time, with everything still fresh and confusing, Geto eventually approached you.
Because, well, he wanted to see that little girl again.
After few dates, then a relationship, then marriage. Maybe.
Sukuna
Listen, he is NOT spreading those cursed genes of his pre-human/post-cursed-spirit.
Man hates love.
But, during the Heian period. When some stupid kid wandered into his life as if it always belonged there, maybe, maybe, there was something else in that space in his chest but hunger and his definition of love.
So, there it was. Whatever it was. Standing there with large eyes focused on him with a semblance of admiration and malice.
"What are you looking at, brat?"
"You."
The audacity of this thing. He killed it immediately.
And then it came back. So, he killed it again. And again. And... what the fuck.
This little shit was persistent.
His kid. He doesn't know how. But definitely his kid.
A worthy successor? Fuck no, he's not dying or leaving it as some birthright to a hindrance.
Learning of its origins was pretty interesting, to say the least.
"Not a human? I figured. A curse made from me, huh? Someone weak must hate me so much."
That meant a human parent. Or multiple human parents. Gross.
He wasn't getting into that.
The kid was though.
It often visited this village to... eat? Kill? Fight? Whatever makes it happy.
...
The hell do you mean it was visiting its human mother?
It had a mother? It had a mother that cursed him so much it resulted in a personalized cursed child?
He could see it stare longingly at that woman's village and before he could even kill her, his offspring said goodbye.
"I'll see you in the future, yeah?"
And then Sukuna was sealed.
He probably searched for his offspring in the Modern era.
Author's notes 2: Stopping with these two because it's been a while since I've posted seriously on this account, 2 years? Maybe I've gotten better, maybe not. This was the idea but with updated better minds. Maybe I'll do the others separately again, Yuji, Yuta, Megumi, Toge. Just did the adults first. Doing Choso and Higuruma definitely.
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astaroth1357 · 6 months
Text
Oh God, What Have We Done??: Father!Belphegor Headcanons
You know, I was going to write this for Simeon, and I still might, but Belphie lost the Dad poll and I must right an injustice when I see one.
Content: Somehow incredibly fluffy with Big Happy Family vibes; mostly meme fodder
~♡♡♡~
I refuse to believe this could have been planned. No person in their right mind is going to look at Belphie and go, "Oh yeah. That's some real good father material right there!" Belphegor wouldn't even say that to himself.
Either a condom broke, a pill was skipped, or some orphaned demon child imprinted on these two like a baby duck and followed them home. Either way, NO ONE wanted this, but it's happening.
Belphegor's reaction to realizing that he's a Dad:
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Everyone else's reaction to realizing Belphegor is a Dad:
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Beel's reaction to realizing that he is an Uncle:
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But seriously though, Beel is the only one with any kind of unwavering faith that his twin can pull this off. Never doubts him for a second and never will.
Everybody else though....? Well. Satan is already cleaning out the local libraries of their parenting books, Asmo's searching Mommy blogs, and Lucifer keeps staring off into the middle distance like he's questioning every single life decision that has brought them to this point. Fear is rampant, despair is on high.
The biggest worry is that Belphegor is going to leave MC more or less high and dry. He's not exactly known to be a "go-getter" when times are tough and though he has his soft side, sure, no one would call it particularly "nurturing."
Diavolo and Barbs weren't even sure if they should announce the news to the realm. Of course one of the Lords of the Hell having an offspring is a pretty big deal but under these circumstances...
What if it was treated like a joke by the populous? Painting a target for ridicule on Belphie and MC's backs had to be the LAST thing anybody wanted...
Even Belphegor, in a pretty heartbreaking moment of self-reflection, tried to convince Beel to take over for him instead. Not to shirk the responsibility, but out of pure acknowledgement that he would make the better father between them...
Beel, of course, was not having this for a second. And you know what? Everyone would do well to listen to the wisdom of Beel! Because he knew instinctively something that everyone else had conveniently forgotten-
No matter the circumstances, Belphie's kid was a part of the family. And that meant that they, the MC, and even Belphie himself were never going to be doing this alone.
And that fact was proven quickly enough when every member of the family, extended or otherwise, stepped up to lend a hand.
Levi and Mammon took it on themselves to go out and buy whatever baby items they needed and seemingly came in every day with handfuls upon handfuls of bottles, baby gates, socket covers, and TOYS (literally so many toys. They bought more toys than diapers).
Lucifer and Asmo set to work on renovating a nursery/kid's room almost immediately. The eldest had the plans drafted within a week of the news while Asmo buried MC and Belphie in paint swatches and magazine catalogs for the walls and decor.
Satan roped Beel in to help him train Belphegor to be a little less lazy and more attentive to the MC and the baby. Even going so far as to curse a baby monitor to sound like fog horn to him and only him if the kid began to cry.
The angels chipped in with gifts and free offers to babysit (mostly from Simeon, but Luke is already eyeing the little one like a baby sibling and is protective as such).
Solomon uh... Well Solomon offered to cook MC whatever they wanted through the pregnancy at first, but when that got a HARD veto he switched to just giving HoL a touch of magic baby proofing. Nobody can figure out how to get under the kitchen sink anymore, but that means the baby won't either!
And, of course, despite Belphegor not liking him much, Diavolo is probably the BEST psudeo-uncle a kid could have. He's already sent Barbatos out to curate the best baby food and Lucifer is training him on how to hold infants properly so he can take turns being babysitter with Simeon.
As a father... Belphie isn't perfect. He did whine more than a few times about no longer being the "baby" everyone doted on. A couple times, he may even act just as childish as his kid...
But in the moments late at night when he's rocking them in his arms, dead tired from being awake for hours but determined to make sure they sleep first...
Or when he's walking around the House with them tucked to his chest because they'll never cry if he holds them.
How he pays attention to every little thing that interests them so he can craft each of their dreams more exciting than the last...
Or how he, more than any of the others, knows what a precious treasure it is to be with those you love since you never know when they'll be gone...
He'll do alright. With the love and support of everyone else, their child will have everything they need...
As long as they don't turn out as spoiled as he is 💀
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celestica-1988 · 6 months
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An headcanon for every Tokyo Revengers character. Some are funny, other are not.
Mikey favorite holiday is Halloween cause he can eat as many sweets as he wants and nobody can tell him shit.
Draken secretly wants to go to a spa with Emma. Draken babysits Toman, Emma takes care of the Sano household and they need to rest. He gets flustered if he thinks about sharing a bed with her or taking a bath together at the offsprings.
Baji feeds stray cats and others animals. Animals are naturally drawn to him for some reasons.
Chifuyu likes to watch TV programs of plane crashes. He dreams to be a pilot and he wants to learn how to avoid situations like the ones in the programs.
Takemichi started reading and watching thrillers in the hope they help him sharpen his ability to investigate
Kazutora still has nightmares of his father beating his mother.
Mitsuya keeps himself updated on what is popular amongs kids so he can sew cool things to his sisters like clothes or stuffed animal.
Hakkai is secretly learning Italian since he loves the Godfather series.
Taiju favorite film is Shark Tale.
Pahchin sleeps cuddling his dog.
Pehyan reads scientific books so he can came up with more witty come backs on Pahchin brain.
Angry is really loved by the elderly people in his neighborhood because he's always ready to help them in any way despite his grumpy face. One of the grannies taught him the perfect recipe for ramen.
Smiley is an hardcore naruhina shipper and won't hesitate to fight if someone insults his otp.
When Mucho saw Sanzu for the first time he thought he seemed like a stray cat. That's why he approached him with food aka cheesecake.
Sanzu would like to fix his relationship with Senju but he doesn't know how. Senju is always with Takeomi and he hates Takeomi. He's also scared that if he stops checking on Mikey, even for a second, something bad will happen to him and Shinichiro would have died in vain.
Kisaki has an album of pics of Hinata that he took when she didn't notice.
Hanma really loves movies with a lot of action and comments loud every scene of violence saying what he would have done instead if he was the protagonist.
Kokonoi talks about his days and his thoughts to a framed pic of Akane. He feels like she's still with him.
Inui plays guitar and he's interested in spiritism.
Izana throws darts to a Karen Kurokawa pic pinned on the wall because she ruined his life and his relationship with Emma and Shinichiro.
Kakucho shaves his hair by himself. He's not comfortable with people touching his scar.
Shion is unexpectedly good with children. He's a bit chaotic but overall a good babysitter.
Mochi is really good at cooking and he's proud of it.
Rindou started going to the gym because he was tired of being teased for his chubby cheeks. His guilty pleasure is eating Mac Donald food.
Ran loves 70s lamps, the one with bubbles that are moving up and down inside. They help him sleep.
South loves to dance Latin dances like samba, cha cha cha, rumba etc...
Wakasa has got some fishing trophies in his apartment.
Benkei appears as a tough guy but he loves to sleep with plushies.
Shinichiro has got an organizer that uses as his diary in which he writes his thoughts and notes all of his siblings birthdays.
Takeomi is always scolded by his relatives because of how he wasted his life, raised Haru to be a lunatic and ruined the relationship between Haru and Senju.
Hinata secretly trains in martial arts to help Takemichi, even though she knew he probably won't let her take part in a fight.
Emma often thinks at how good it would be if Izana lives with them. She wants him to have a family.
Yuzuha listen to heavy metal as a let out of her frustration for living with Taiju.
Senju sometimes wants to be adopted by Wakasa so she won't have Takeomi around and maybe Sanzu would visit her. She also hate Concordes.
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wizardfrog69 · 2 months
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May I request raising a child with Fyodor? I feel like he would lowkey be a scary strict parent but would also spoil them a lot lmao. He gives the vibes of a parent that would ask his 7 year old son to read Crime and Punishment and to write a 3 page essay if they want something.
Thanks for the request!
'•.¸♡ Raising a child together (Fyodor) ♡¸.•'
Fyodor x reader (parents)
Fluff
Masterlist
Enjoy!
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Raising a child with him is difficult, to say the least. He firmly believes that children should be punished as a consequence of their actions. The punishments he would suggest may be too cruel for the situation or child, so you never let him punish the children.
Your child will learn to play some sort of instrument like a piano or some sort of string instrument, one that is featured in classical music, so no electric guitar or banjo (unfortunately).
They will end up in therapy, Fyodor is such a great father.
Fyodor is very strict about homework and tests, he expects 90% or higher, it's safe to say you are definitely the favourite parent.
Reading and poetry is a big thing for him and so his offspring has like 20 poems, mostly Russian poems, memorised.
Classical music is what they would listen to the most due to Fyodor but they are allowed to express themselves via music, art, clothing (as long as it is appropriate, for all genders).
He is overprotective, yet he does not wish to be overbearing so it comes off as him just locking himself in his room and interacting with his child on occasion to fulfil their natural need for attention and to reinforce the house rules, and to spend time with you of course.
On special occasions, or when Fyodor wants attention from his family but doesn't want to show it in fear of acting weak, he would take you on a fun night out, taking the kids to the playground or somewhere fun, going to a restaurant to eat something, and so he can spoil you a bit, ending the night with a walk in the park while the child(ren) run around.
Some of his rules include: no phone, the only thing they can watch is TV and w someone else, not on their own, home by 20:00, in bed by 22:00, sleepovers only once they turn 13 and he needs to know the parents, nothing too immodest, no going to his study.
When you had your first baby, Fyodor was really attached to it. It was probably the most you've seen him smile ever. Finding him taking a nap with the baby was a rare sight, but a sight you cherished with all your heart.
༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻
Have a wonderful day/night and don't forget to do something you love and drink plenty of water!:)
-with love, Az
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muffinlance · 1 year
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Prompt: Azula joins Zuko on his Avatar hunt instead of Iroh. I don't know why, I don't know how, but I'm certain to be entertained by whatever follows.
Ozai and Ursa were already dead by the time Iroh arrived home. He stepped from his ship into the palanquin, and rode past the places of their execution, holding the urn of his son’s ashes. 
He had no time to entrust them to the Fire Sages before his father summoned him. He brought them along, because this was an easier thing than setting them down. And perhaps Lu Ten’s grandfather would like to see him once more, outside of the family shrine. Iroh would have given anything—
He placed the urn on the floor next to him. It did not kneel when he did. Fire Lord Azulon surveyed him from behind the flames.
“Rise, my son. It is good to have you home.”
They did not speak of Lu Ten. His father had always been a man to look to the flames of the future, rather than the ashes of the past.
* * *
They hanged Ursa, as befitted her attempted crime, and her past station.
They burned Ozai, as befitted his. A child of Agni should always return to the flames.
The children of the traitors had been stricken from the family line. Had been placed in the capital prison; bait for the trap. Azulon was keeping close eye on those who expressed concern for the offspring of regicides. Ozai had expected support for his position; it would be Iroh’s second task to sift through the court, and discard the chaff. 
His first task was a more practical resowing. Azulon had already selected a handful of candidates: women of suitable birth and known loyalties. The wedding date had been set, pending selection of the bride.
“Thank you, father,” Iroh said. 
Lu Ten held his silence.
* * * 
Azula had never liked the servants who’d fussed at her hair and clothes, who’d pulled and tugged until she was perfect, like perfect was a thing outside of her for others to bestow. She only had to look at Zuko to know how far tailored robes and well-oiled hair could take one.
She couldn’t see Zuzu from her cell. Her robes were too cold against the stone and every tug to wrap them tighter just made them worse, she could see it in the guards’ faces, the way they’d stared when she’d first arrived and looked a few days after and now they barely even saw. No one would talk to her, no matter her demands. They didn’t even stop their own conversations anymore; just slid in her food and kept walking and batted away her fires and it was cold here.
There were things crawling in her hair that her nails couldn’t dig out. Sometimes she thought she heard Zuzu yelling, but she couldn’t be sure. And it would have been undignified to yell back. She was a princess. She was fifth in line for the dragon throne. 
Fourth, now that Lu Ten was dead.
Third, because father was, too. 
He’d yelled and then he’d screamed and it hadn’t done anything but make the crowd jeer. Fire Lord Azulon had been silent. Poised. In control. She was his namesake and she would be too. 
She was nine.
* * *
Zuko yelled until his throat burned. The guards didn’t care, they didn’t listen to him, which was nothing new. He shouted and shouted and his own ears hurt. Maybe that’s why he never heard Azula calling back.
Grandfather had made them watch when he’d killed father and, and—
If grandfather had Azula killed, he would have made Zuko watch that, too. Azula was probably just better at being a prisoner than he was. Maybe the guards even talked to her.
He was eleven.
* * *
Iroh’s new wife was a third his age. A flower just coming to bloom. She looked like his first wife; Azulon knew his preferences. She was young enough to be Lu Ten’s sister. She smiled and laughed each day with the other court wives, and came to his room with lists of possible dissenters to discuss in their marital bed. It was not the pillow talk he was used to, but it was charming, in its way. She liked to lay on her stomach and kick her feet above her as they traced the web of treachery with his dead brother at its center. She was here to have his children—a task at which she worked with admirable diligence—and to be the acting Fire Lady. She had not had to struggle and flaunt herself for his affections; she had been picked from a line-up, her expectations realistic, her motives aligned with his. It was the least romantic relationship Iroh had ever been part of. It was… refreshing.
On the day the palace doctor confirmed their newly budded line of succession, the Fire Lord called them both in for congratulations. And for pruning.
* * *
Zuko had turned twelve, but had not realized it. Azula had turned ten. She’d counted the days.
Iroh had not been able to visit them in prison; only to inquire as to their treatment. Individual cells, regular meals of reasonable quality, no abuses. He’d moved his own people into position to ensure the last. 
Azulon had moved them back, after a delay for his soft-hearted son’s conscience. They could not waste loyal men on cuckoo-vipers. And Iroh could not waste his father’s good will. Not when it would be needed in the future, for the most important request.
* * * 
“And your wife agrees to this?” asked the Fire Lord, behind his flames. 
Iroh’s wife had not been directly addressed, and so did not reply. She sat in polite and perfect seiza, her head raised, as befitted the woman currently running her half of the court. Azulon had never seen fit to replace his own wife, after all.
“She does,” Iroh spoke for her. “We have spoken on the issue at length, and believe it best. Our family is small, and cannot afford to be smaller. The children are young; too young to have been in their parents’ confidences. With proper guidance—”
“And how would they place in the line of succession?” Azulon asked. “How would they chafe, how would they plot, with a decade’s experience over your eldest?”
Lu Ten’s own connections at court had been built while his cousins were still in diapers. But he was no longer Iroh’s eldest.
“We believe—”
“No,” his father interrupted again. “I will not allow their adoption. Not by you, where they could smother your own babe in the cradle, and certainly not by someone I trust less.”
Which was everyone, since the night his daughter-in-law had served him tea sent by his son.
“Father,” Iroh began, and his wife shifted her elbow just so, the only indication that she wished to dig it into his ribcage. “They are young, and innocent. They are my beloved nephew and niece. Your grandchildren. We cannot in good conscience—”
‘Good conscience’ had never factored into his father’s policies. Iroh had… begun to realize that, of late. His wife let out a small sigh, deliberately audible only to the man next to her. She had cautioned very strongly against a—how had she put it?—a feelings-based approach to this situation. Feelings rarely factored into her own decisions. She had been hand-selected by his father, after all. 
His wife went into a half-bow, her head lowered. “May I speak, my lord?” 
The flames crackled. The shadow of his father inclined its head, just slightly. 
“To kill the children is wise, and I admit, would set my mind at ease for my own child’s sake. But my husband feels strongly on this matter, and so I support him, for his happiness is my own. May I suggest a compromise? To place them outside the court, where they cannot build influence, nor harm your son’s heirs. A position from which you can judge their characters and value to the nation as they grow.”
“You suggest banishment,” the Fire Lord said.
“Not unstructured, of course. To leave them roaming freely would invite those that would take them in. Perhaps a military commission? As they are commoners, they should begin from a rank befitting their station, of course. Let them prove their worth on their own merit.”
Iroh could not see through the flames, but he knew his wife’s small smile was reflected on his father’s face. 
“A naval position,” the Fire Lord said. “On a ship that does not frequently make port. The frontlines would be the best place for them to prove themselves, wouldn’t you agree?”
Iroh closed his eyes.
“Father,” he said. “Please,” and he could feel his wife willing him to stop talking. The Fire Lord had already agreed to spare their lives. A banishment could be undone, so long as he and the children both outlived the man before them. “I… thank you for your wisdom in this ruling. But perhaps, if they complete some feat worthy of our line, they could be allowed to return?”
The flames were hot against his face. His new wife was still and silent against his side. His father… his father laughed, a low exhalation, the wheeze of a humorless old man.
“Let them bring me the Avatar,” Fire Lord Azulon said, “and I will welcome them home with honor.”
* * *
Zuko didn’t know why they’d pulled him from his cell or scrubbed him down or taken his old clothes. They’d been dirty but they could have been cleaned. His new clothes were scratchy, and too big, and they looked like a common soldier’s, and… and—
And they’d shaved his hair. 
* * * 
It had gotten rid of the bugs, Azula admitted, in the privacy of her own mind. Still. She memorized the faces of the woman who’d held her down and the man who’d shorn her. For future reference.
They hadn’t bothered sizing her new outfit for a child. Azula noted the quartermaster’s face, as well.
* * *
They were put on a ship. It was the first time they’d seen each other in nearly a year.
Zuzu looked at her head, and wisely said nothing.
She raised an eyebrow at his, and graciously granted him the same.
It was hard to tell them apart. They had their mother’s face. And their father’s.
* * *
Their captain’s name was Zhao. He invited them to dinner in his private quarters, once the Fire Nation was behind them. Zuko fidgeted. Azula didn’t.
The captain spoke on how much potential he saw in them, under a commander who saw their true value. 
Together, they could go far. Very far, indeed.
Azula smiled and said all the things she thought father would have said. Zuko scowled. 
Zhao brushed over their arms with his own while reaching for things. He served them more when they said they were already full. He squeezed their shoulders when he brought them back to their rooms, which were next to his, even though the rest of the lower crewmen slept together in the same big cabin. Zuko scowled harder. 
Azula was invited back. Zuko wasn’t.
* * *
Zhao was… Zhao wasn’t a good person.
“I know that, dum-dum. But do you want to stay banished forever?” 
“Uncle said—”
“Uncle’s going to change his mind, when he has his own heir and a spare. We’re threats, Zuzu. And Zhao knows father’s old friends. He’s one of the smart ones.”
The dumb ones had already been executed. 
“I… I think he wants to—to tie himself to the royal line.”
“Eww,” she said. “I’m ten. If he wants to get engaged, I’ll just break it when we’ve got the throne. It will be too late for him to retract his support, then.”
They’d barely left port before Zhao had made his first move. He didn’t seem like a man who waited. 
Azula was ten, but Zuko was twelve. Being twelve was almost thirteen, which was almost a teenager, which was almost an adult, and adults understood things that ten year olds didn’t.
They had to get off this ship. They had to go home.
Zuko had to find the Avatar.
* * *
(This ficlet is now posted on AO3.)
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1v31182m5 · 4 months
Text
Random kfp headcanons that I had (that I am not making them up right now for a post, I just had these in my mind since forever)
- the release date of the movies are the birthdates of the villains (Tai Lung 6th of June, Shen 26th of May, Kai 29th of January)
- Obviously Tai doesn't know his birthday so they celebrate the day Shifu got him instead which is the 4th of July (I chose this date because it was the date that it aired on my country :3 )
-Meanwhile Tai and Shen have their family issues Kai has loving parents with a wholesome relationship and absolute no problems with.
"Okay I get it fine you're all without fathers alright"
K: I'm not
K: I love my dad
K: My dad's fucking awesome
- I headcanon the mixed animals offsprings work the same way in Beastars so the offspring won't be a mixed creature but rather just one of the parents
- Kai has a cow mother and a crocodile father.
- Shen's mom's mother is an Albatross.
- Both of Tai's parents are snow leopards
- I know people usually say that Po and Tai would be besties which I agree but among the villains I think his bestie would be Kai, they seemed to be getting along (almost) in the movie for me X)
- After the third film I cannot imagine Tigress and Po not having a panda daughter
- Tigress and Po has a panda daughter. One child
- Tigress becomes Shifu's succesor. Taking over the Jade Palace ( after it is rebuilt ) Teaching new generations
- Crane is the first one to marry among the five. Mantis is the last he's scared (didn't marry an other mantis oh god kajsksbdjs)
- Po is the youngest member and Mantis is the oldest
- Oogway and Kai met in the army but they knew eachother's existence before that. They just weren't talking to eachother at all
- Kai listens to Oogway's "deep talks". When he was young he couldn't exactly come up with words to explain what is in his mind and tell it, Kai watched him as he mixed 15 random words together to explain what his philosophical thoughts were
"You have an enlightenment every day"
-Shen had a close relationship with his parents till the age of 5. Then it fell apart
- Tai Lung used to count his spots regularly to see if he had grown any more. He stopped after he finished puberty
- I'll probably add more I just kinda don't remember all of them right now
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hinakazino · 1 year
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Meeting their future kid! || Angel, Aki
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Summary: Meeting their future child they had with you!! Or, in which your child with them somehow lands in the past for awhile.
Context: This is before an established relationship, the kids a teen here. Oh and (C/N) stands for your Childs name.
Warnings: SPOILERS (mainly on Aki’s part), none, just fluff.
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— angel devil
Honestly, he’s shocked. Literally thinking what? That’s impossible. Touching him shortens one’s lifespan! He didn’t have a lover either, humans and even devils didn’t interest him- So how is it possible that he has a child?
But he couldn’t deny it either, the girl standing in front of him looked like him. She carried the same features, like the red hair and had wings just like him. There wasn’t a halo though, and he could instantly tell she was a hybrid.
“Dad!”, his daughters voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He hadn’t even realized that he’d completely zoned out. Angel had no idea what to say, but listened as his daughter spoke. “Dad, I know this is quite shocking, but I’m really your kid, my names (C/N),” she said.
It seems that from this Angel regained his composure, he didn’t like beating around the bush anyway. So he asked straightforward, “who is your mother?” “Y/n,” and it clicks. He’d seen you around, and you were his recently assigned partner.
“Um.. you can ask any question you want dad, don’t worry I’ll answer!” your daughter says as she grabs his bare hand to take him to sit. Angels terrified and instantly slaps his daughters hand away. “Woah woah- sorry, I forgot to say, dad I’m immune to your curse!” she says.
His face shows skepticism, but he sits down next to her and he finds himself apologizing. “Sorry..What’s it like in the future?” he asks. “No worries! Oh well, you and mom are basically retired devil hunters. You still go on the job but you get 4 days off now."
He watches as his daughter talks with enthusiasm, and finds himself softly smiling when she says, “happy to hear right dad? Mom says you didn’t like fighting or working much.” Angel feels that he quite enjoys the thought of a future with you and his daughter, it was just truly too good.
Angel then wonders on, "what is it that you do?" he asks. He watches as his daughter responds, "I'm a devil hunter too- but you don't have to worry because I'm pretty strong!!" "Really?" he says. "Yeah! You know you still always have that look on your face father, I'm not a baby anymore," your daughter states proudly.
Angel chuckles at this, as he realizes that his future won't be a lonely one. He won’t be alone anymore, he has his own family. It was in that moment that another thought had occurred to him, my touch drains others lifespan so how strange is it that we were able to have offspring?
Before he could ask though, your daughters time was up. "Sorry dad, I gotta go, this mechanism that got me here doesn't last long," she says. "Ah, no it's okay, stay safe," angel says. "One last thing though! Mom said to give you this, she said it may solve a question you have."
He watches as his daughter hands him a note, and stiffens when she hugs him. Angel finds himself slowly recuperating the hug, hands softly placing themselves on his daughters back, it felt foreign to him. When his daughter had left, he had opened the note.
'From Y/N.
Angel I know you're probably wondering this, so what we did was ...'
Angel blushed, rather his whole face became flushed as he finished reading the note. He could tell that you knew him fairly well since this answered his question exactly, and when he saw you later that day he couldn't stop the thoughts constantly popping up in his head.
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— aki
Aki was more so surprised he lived long enough to actually have his own family, but the point that it happened was pleasant to him. He’d lost every person that was there for him in his childhood. Aki felt a sense of warmth knowing that he’d become someone who was now there for others.
Truthfully the idea that a devil hunter lasted in public safety more than 7 years was considered celebratory and it was no secret why. Having a family on top of that? That’s quite the achievement.
But there’s a lot of questions he has, who is his lover? The mother of his child, what’s life like? Has a lot changed? What about Denji and Power, how are they doing? His curiosity shows itself on his face and his son starts off.
“Soooooo, dad like I said I’m your kid and it’s a lot to take in, but I know you have a lot of questions so ask away,” his son says. The kid looks like Aki for sure, he stares at his child’s face and offers a smile. Aki signals for his son to sit down next to them and a father-son talk ensues. “What’s your name kid?” he asks.
“I’m (C/N), and I’m pretty old now,” his son responds. Aki can feel a sense of annoyance, but not with any dislike. “I call you kid a lot huh?” “So you do realizes that you overuse the word,” his son says matter-of-factly. Aki chuckles and continues on, “Yeah uh, who is my lover?”
“Y/n,” and it makes sense, Aki’s noticed your recent starting at him. It wasn’t unwelcome, he could tell you were looking at him with admiration he just didn’t know it was much more. You were his recently assigned partner, one he was tasked to train.
“Mmh, what’s life like?” he asks, trying to sound casual. Aki’s face heated up as it started to settle in that you were a big part of his future. “You and mom are retired married devil hunters, both of you do get called on missions sometimes but it’s really just living and doing normal stuff now,” your son responds.
Aki felt relieved that he let go of his revenge. “How are power and denji?” he asks. “Uncle and Auntie are doing fine, they’re both still in the devil hunting business, you can bet they’re annoying the heck outta me,” your son says sighing. Aki can only smile hearing this.
Everything felt so perfect, he still couldn’t grasp that this was what his future was like. “You decided to be a devil hunter,” Aki comments softly, he genuinely felt slight concern hearing this since he himself has seen many of his coworkers lose their lives.
He watches as, (C/N), his sons face shifts to one of pride. “You don’t have to worry about me father, I know what I’m doing, I got taught by the best of the best after all,” he says. Aki feels proud to hear this, he’s glad knowing that this wasn’t something he pushed on his son. This actually made his curiosity spike again, what about the gun devil, makima, or the agency at his sons time?
“I- I just want to confirm some more, I didn’t force you into devil hunting right? I know I do dislike gun devil and all, what about miss makima-” Aki stops talking as his son cuts him off. “Dad this is my decision, for real, and I don’t know what you’re talking about? The gun devils captured during your time and it’s last appearance was to take down the control devil, Makima,” your son says while shrugging.
Aki couldn't help feeling confused, he had been given no time to ponder over this revelation though, as his son announced his retreat. "Sorry, I've got to go back to my time now father," his son says. Aki feels saddened by this but before he lets his kid go, he makes sure to give him a good hug.
"I'm proud of you, and tell your mom I'm on my way to see her," he says ruffling up his sons hair. He stand there watching as his son laughs and heads on his way with a soft wave.
© 2023 by Hinakazino, do not translate/edit/claim or use my work in any form.
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necroromantics · 6 months
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What I think the Creeps would listen to
Jeff - Black Metal, but he’d be fucking annoying about it with a huge superiority complex and very gatekeepy. Mayhem, Burzum, Emperor, Immortal. Also artists like Marilyn Manson and Black Sabbath too, Cannibal Corpse, Mortician
Nina - 2000s pop like Kesha, Katy Perry, Pitbull, with some scene music thrown in like Falling In Reverse, Hollywood Undead, S3RL. She also listens to Melanie Martinez
BEN - Exclusively old internet music like Raining Tacos, Chocolate Rain, Caramelldansen, The Duck Song. Would probably dip into EDM, Dubstep, and video game soundtracks
Jane - R&B and Hip Hop. Destinys Child, Mariah Carey, Usher, Nelly, Rhianna, Ashanti and also some rock like Evanescence
EJ - Linkin Park, Nirvana, Thirty Seconds To Mars, Rage Against The Machine, and bands like Alice In Chains, Soundgarden, Smashing Pumpkins, Pixies
Toby - Wide range of music, from gangster rap to punk rock. Green Day, NWA, Harley Poe, ACDC, Three Days Grace, Motley Crue, Modern Baseball, Blink182, Thousand Foot Krutch
Clockwork - Rock, country, grunge. She would listen to mostly female artists. In This Moment, Jack Off Jill, Carrie Underwood, Miranda Lambert, Kittie, The Pretty Reckless, Destroy Boys, Hole, Three Days Grace, Seether
Tim - Old class rock, he thinks anything else is garbage. Motley Crue, ACDC, Motorhead, Black Sabbath, Van Halen, Bon Jovi, KISS, Guns N Roses
Brian - White guy music. Backstreet Boys, The Offspring, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, probably throws some Michael Jackson into the mix for spice
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depravitymoon · 5 months
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Does the Yandere la squadra have room preferences for the darling post kidnapping?
This is the oldest ask sitting in my inbox and today’s the day I answer it. Right now, I’m gonna be honest. Part of the reason this sat in my inbox for so long is because I was trying to figure out the question. Hence, I’m going to try to guess what it’s asking. 
The questions I’m gonna be asking myself:
What are the general house rules post-kidnapping?
Would your yandere even give you a room?
Would your yandere change their own room for you?
And just to make this simple: This is an Everyone Lives AU where Giorno is Don and actually increased La Squadra's pay by 1000%. La Squadra are roommates in a big ass villa, so it feels like live in through own private apartment complex... but richer. lol
(Some of the pictures of rooms come from here.)
(Warning: Other than yandere, kidnapping, and implied forced labor, Melone also wants kids with you.))
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RIsotto Nero
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Risotto’s rules:
Don’t get sassy with him.
Do what he says.
Do not attempt to run away from him.
If he is not there, then have Pesci or Prosciutto guide you.
Would your yandere even give you a room? NO.
Risotto isn’t as fucked up as some of his teammates, but he likes having control of you. Also, it’s easier to intimidate you when he’s always so close to you (and is a giant). Having your own room might make you feel too comfortable disobeying him and he refuses to let you think that’s an option.
Would your yandere change their own room for you? Yes. You behave and he’s willing to even make the room look like Enid and Wednesday’s. 
Prosciutto
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Prosciutto’s rules:
Be a good housewife.
Cook the meals.
Clean the ‘house’.
Run errands with Pesci.
Don’t sass him.
Greet him when he gets home.
Would your yandere even give you a room?  HAHAHAHAHA, NO. You’re funny.  You two are married and married couples sleep together.  Also, you’re in charge of cleaning, do you really want your own room to clean in addition of his room and Pesci’s.
Would your yandere change their own room for you? He will negotiate with you. Have you been a good wife? Have you been completing the chores? What are you willing to give in return to drastically change his room for you? 
Sidenote 01: Prosciutto gets the biggest room because Risotto didn't care to get the Master bedroom. 
Sidenote 02: Proscuitto just wants you taking care of his portion of the villa. If you're being annoying, he'll force you to clean of Pesci's portion (but Pesci's nice enough to help you with your cleaning).
Pesci
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Pesci’s rules:
Be polite to Risotto.
Listen to what big brother says.
If big bro gets handsy on you, look for Pesci.
Avoid the others except Ghiaccio.
Stay away from Ghiaccio when he’s mad. Don’t walk, RUN.
Would your yandere even give you a room? Pesci would never force you to stay in his room unless he actually thought you were in danger. At worse, he'd manipulate you into staying with him. If La Squadra has room (no pun intended) you can have your own room.
Would he change his room for you? Absolutely! He just wants you comfortable! Hell, you can have half of his room AND your own room. 
Melone
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Melone’s Rules:
Be a good parent to his future offspring.
Don’t ask for anything unless you’re willing to do some Not Safe For Work activities for it.
At least pretend you're happy to see Melone once in awhile, especially around bambino!
Would your yandere even give you a room? Honestly, yes. He did kidnap you to force you to have his future children. The least he can do is accommodate you.
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He'll only let you roam the villa if he believes you'll behave. The moment you try leaving is the moment you're literally chained to his bedroom and has to have Pesci follow you around when Melone can't.  Yes, he knows you're mad that he plans to baby trap you. At least you'll be a rich mom, not a pauper with 'freedom'.
Would he change his room for you?  No. If anything, he’d probably make your room also your future baby’s room too, which would force you to come to his room for some peace and quiet.
Ghiaccio
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((Author's Note: Let's pretend that the floor is an all white carpet. Apparently, most people know better than to have white carpet.))
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Ghiaccio’s Rule:
DO NOT stain his room.
DO NOT yell at him.
DO NOT talk to the other members unless it’s an emergency.
DO NOT be alone with Melone.
DONT. STAIN. ANYTHING.
You may be asking "Why would you have a white room? Why not just let me go if you dont want a stained room-" SHUT UP AND DONT SASS HIM.
Would your yandere even give you a room?  Depending on if you two are own good terms, he might let you stay in the tinier room right next to his. Just behave. Your room has no bed, because he'll be forcing you to sleep in his bed with him. You're the most likely darling to be allowed to roam the villa, but you can't go outside. 
Would he change his room for you?  No, which is why you get your own room if you behave. 
Illuso
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Illuso's rules:
Do as he says.
Do as he says.
Do as he says.
Do as he says.
Oh, he keeps you in the mirror world with food all day when he's not with you. Rights? lol Silly darling, you have no rights.
Everything you have is solely due to his desires. While Risotto's darling spends 90% of the time in his room, Illuso's darling spends 99.99% of the time in Illuso's room and the mirror world.
Formaggio
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Doesn’t need rules because he can just shrink you down when he wants.
I imagine the only thing that stands out about Formaggio's room is that it's filled with a dollhouse, dolls, pet cages, and a hamster ball. Why all of that? So he can entertain himself messing with you. 
There is more than enough room for you to be in Formaggio's room. And he doesn't want to break you like Illuso would. Formaggio just likes bullying you, but he does want you functioning like a human being. Having a person he can actually converse with is better han some doll that obeys him, gross. 
Obviously, you wont get your own room, but he will customize your dollhouse room if you behave! Oh and he does like you room the mansion. Keep in mind if you ever try to flee, that privilege is revoked forever.
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aerkame · 3 months
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A Spell For a Hoard Part 1
Thought I'd give you guys a lil' treat before I go off to sleep (I need to fix my sleep schedule lol). Also because I wanted to do a little bit of world building. Let me know how I'm doing! Fandom: Welcome Home Finfolk AU Relationships: Implied Wally x Reader Summary: Wally completes a deal with the stranger to get what he needs.
Note: Sorry there will be a part 2, I just got too tired to keep writing xd
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Everyone knew what the finfolk were capable of, if you were knowledgeable enough that is. This world was full of all kinds of creatures; but some creatures like his own kind, the finmen and finwomen of the sea, were not as known as the more infamous species such as the fae, dragons, orcs, vampires, and mermaids. The usual creature that comes to mind when one talks about myths and folklore.
Not being as well known of a species has its perks though, that's how Wally found himself here.
No one batted an eye at the short customer that made their way through the crowded town and into a nearby tavern. No one said anything or had shown any suspicion when said customer went into the back of the employee's area and up the stairs. It was almost funny really. Wally could walk around with his fins and scales in full view and not one person would know what he really is. If anything, the average person would probably mistake him for a siren or a mermaid, perhaps even a hybrid offspring of a land-dweller and a mermaid. And yet, there are so many out there that pride themselves in being oh so knowledgeable on every creature to ever exist. What prideful idiots.
Staring at the door, Wally squinted. There were faint glowing swirls and lettering of unknown origin engraved into the framing and wood. It took a bit of thinking. Draconic tongue, a protection spell from what it looks like.
With a droopy eyed smile, he straightened his clothing before gingerly knocking, arm folded behind his back to keep the friendly appearance.
Clicks and moving gears could be heard within the locks of the door. It only took a moment before the glowing lettering disappeared and the door slowly creaked open. Two glowing red eyes stared at him from the dark of the room. Lightning flashed briefly, revealing the humanoid, but clearly, draconic figure sitting at the desk.
"Take a seat."
A female's voice rang out throughout the office, it was commanding and demanded respect.
Wally gave a warm but lazy smile as he stepped in, the door shutting behind with a slam.
"I didn't take you as the type for protection spells." His voice came out buttery smooth, innocent, and comforting to listen to. He sometimes wondered if there was siren somewhere in his family tree. Wally lifted himself up and kicked his feet slowly while seated in the the chair, one far too big for him. He didn't feel like shifting to be bigger though.
"Don't be daft, you and I both know it would be unwise of me to leave myself unprotected." Those red eyes glared down at the 'puppet' man. Void and dreamy half-lidded eyes stared back.
Wally tilted his head to the side cutely, finger to his lip as if in thought. "Oh? Is it because you're expecting dangerous company?"
Claws dug into the desk, splintering the wood. "Don't you DARE get those half-witted detectives involved or so help me!-"
Putting hand up to stop whatever was next, Wally bent forward with a widened grin. "Oh, I won't tell anyone, I swear it." He began to lean over the desk itself, resting his face into the palm of his hand with those same sleepy eyes.
"That is if you keep your end of the deal. Riiiight?~"
His words were sickly sweet, Wally having sang song the last part as if he were talking to a child. It was adorable to anyone else, but here, it was a clear threat.
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random thoughts on athena and annabeth
annabeth is widely recognized as the pride of athena's offspring, meaning she would have had to put in the insane level of effort, training and obedience required to reach the level of perfection and devotion that would have earned her the title, both by her peers, her enemies (alecto said something to that effect) and presumably athena herself (im relying on the fact that even in the books the other children of athena we meet dont have magical items from their mother like annabeth has her hat).
but that was before and while she was at camp. before she got to camp and before she met luke and thalia, she was likely relying mostly on her wits to survive, yk, having the strength and training of a SEVEN yr old. its likely athena would have recognized this (even if she doesnt interfere or help bc shes a god and why would she), annabeth gets to camp and becomes a year rounder, she probably gets claimed relatively early in her time at chb (if we leave enough time for her to become her cabin's counselor by virtue of being there the longest). she is able to succeed greatly but thats largely in controlled environment (monsters dont get into camp unless you go looking for them in the forest, and none at camp at the time is purpose looking to kill). annabeth is able to live up to athena's standard of perfection while the conditions are favorable and controlled. its not to say her life wasnt hard at chb, but the point of chb's existence is to keep demigods safe. its literally said the reason she wants to go on a quest is bc the only way left to prove herself to her mother is out there, in the real world, with real threats.
she gets her wish and is thrust in a volatile environment for her, where she knows she is the one with the most experience and takes the responsibility for keeping her friends alive. she is now supposed to be making the kind of serious decisions that she wouldnt have had to face, at least yet, had she stayed at camp. even so annabeth has been and is the picture of unquestionable devotion to athena, and medusa acknowleges it. "i wasnt like you, i WAS you"
but, like medusa, one slip up was all it took to fall from athena's grace. poseidon did not care for medusa but percy does already care deeply for annabeth. once its brought to his attention that the hat is annabeth's only acknowledgment from athena and a reminder that maybe athena does love her, maybe she is watching over her, he does the first thing that comes to his mind to let her keep it, a desicion that is naturally influenced by his own feelings about and for his father and the gods in general. annabeth goes along because, among other reasons, she gets to keep her hat. annabeth is still part human and even then she recognizes that the gods will not like it; her mother does not know her but she knows her mother enough to know her likely reaction. all it takes for annabeth, previously implied the favourite (if that means something), is for her to listen to her emotions, listen to her human side and even listen to percy, for athena to decide that annabeth is not worth it anymore. and she puts the responsability of her wounded pride (poor her) on annabeth even though she very likely knows that both her and grover protested sending the head to olympus for the very same reason she would use to punisher her. bc lets face it, by letting echidna into the arch, athena, a strategist, was probably aware that her daughter would be the one to face the chimera and was not expecting her to survive.
side note: percy makes a pretty logical argument that the head can be considered tribute and why shouldn't it really? athena is embarrased when annabeth kills one of her enemies and sends her the proof but years later sends her to a quest where she KNOWS annabeth will have to kill another of her enemies and offer her the proof, another woman made an enemy only by virtue of a percieved offense. the two situations are barely different but athena gets to decide when something is her will and when its embarrasing. wisdom where??
athena expects her children to honor her by acting on the side of wisdom, whatever that may mean to her. by ignoring the reasons annabeth let the head arrive at olympus and blaming her rather than percy directly, athena shows that she does not believe that emotions have a place in wisdom, in strategic thinking, directly foreshadowing the lesson she is forced to learn (and quickly forget) at the end of the series: (SPOILERS FOR SHOW ONLYS) that MAYBE letting their children feel neglected enough so that they defect to the dark side fighting for their destruction (which nearly succeds by the way, were it not for percy's EMOTION DRIVEN decision to give the dagger to luke, bc lemme tell you that was not the strategic move) was PROBABLY not the wisest move.
and if these things are true for annabeth, the supposed favourite, then how difficult is it for annabeth's siblings to gain their mother's respect or acknowledgement and how easily can they lose it? i would not be surprised if the show sets it up for more children of athena to defect camp than is mentioned in the books. The books don't really specify which cabin lost the most demigods to kronos' side, apart from the unclaimed. but it would not be out of this world to me for children of athena, if tempted by luke and company and they unlearn their belief in their mother's perfection, to associate all those issues to their mother's hypocrisy. and i believe athena to be amongst the most hypocritic gods simply bc of the nature of prioritizing strategy etc above all other things, being the one to recognize the root of the problem and then doing practically nothing better for five more books. especially when from the get go, the show is really honing in on the main character *openly and frequently* questioning the unfairness of the god's treatment, whats not say, after later events ifykyk, children of athena who dont have the same loyalty to percy annabeth does but do have the information at hand she does, wont come to the same conclusion?
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sigyns-drafts · 1 month
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Hi, Thea. Thanks again for responding to my request! When I saw Nostradamus in Ror, it seemed to me that he probably likes love predictions… May I ask for a scenario in which Nostradamus makes a prediction to the fem reader about who her lover will be? (with Buddha, Hermes, Loki, Beelzebub).
A/N: Of course, how could i not!! I totally agree, Nostradamus would so enjoy helping others find potential love. Something he too deserves sometimes hehe!! <33
Nostradamus's love predictions 💕
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➩ Y/N after hearing words of Nostradamus's talent in predicting ones future love life, becomes curious and decided to pay him a visit! There she learns of the gods she could end up with and even, how many children they would get. But of course not without its secrets that even Nostradumus cant tell.
Reader type: Fem!reader with Nostradamus, Buddha, Hermes, Loki and Beelzebub.
⚠: Love predictions, future possible outcomes, future relationships, future children, Intersex child, Keeping secrets from partner, secrets in general!
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Where gods and humans collide in epic battles to determine the fate of humanity, there exists a young woman named Y/N. 
She was an ordinary human, yet her destiny was intertwined with the most extraordinary beings in existence. 
Little did she know that her life would be forever changed by a prophecy foretold by none other than the legendary prophet of the century, Nostradamus.
One fateful day, Y/N found herself seeking guidance from the most obnoxious man in all of human history, hoping to unravel the mysteries of her future. 
As she stood before the smaller man, his eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, and he spoke in an excited, soft yet mysterious tone. 
“Why hello Y/N, it's certainly good to see you! Say, what brings you here today~?”
"Nostradamus, please tell me of my future, I've grown curious after hearing what you're capable of!" Y/N implored, her heart pounding with anticipation. 
She couldn't believe she was really going through with this! 
Nostradamus's eyes widened at how direct the woman had been, eventually calming himself and nodded, his gaze piercing right through the woman. 
Sending shivers up her spine, the man would just smile in response. 
“Oh dear! Very well then, let us get into it already shall we, what will it be?”
“A love prediction please! Who will I end up with or fall in love with..?”
With a wave of his hand, he conjured images of four powerful beings before them. 
Buddha, Hermes, Loki, and Beelzebub.
"You are destined to find love amidst chaos and turmoil," Nostradamus intoned, his voice echoing in the chamber they stood in, spacey but so empty. 
"Four potential lovers shall cross your path, each offering a different path of destiny. Now isn't that interesting~"
Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she listened intently to the prophecy that would shape her future. 
She looks upon the chosen gods, she had met them before.. 
"First, there is Buddha, the embodiment of serenity and enlightenment.." 
Nostradamus smirked to himself and looked at Y/N, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 
“Would you also like to know the offspring count you'll have with them too~?”
Y/N tensed up and found herself almost speechless at this, who did this guy think he was! 
Y/n felt herself start to get all flustered. Her face probably looks like a tomato ready to be plucked.
“Excuse me-! What kind of question is that!?”
Nostradamus lifts up his hand in defence, acting like he didn't know what he had done wrong! 
“Hey! I'm simply just asking..So what will it be?”
Y/n thought about it for a moment, glaring at Nostradamus. 
Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to see, after all the curiosity in who she would eventually get with was already eating her up inside! 
“Fine! Tell me that too I suppose..ugh.”
Nostradamus chuckled to himself seeing Y/N’s expression and continued. 
"With him, you shall bear him a son and find peace and spiritual awakening, but your path will be one of sacrifice."
Y/N imagined herself walking alongside the serene figure of Buddha, a little boy on her hip and finding solace in his wisdom and compassion.
Yet, she knew that such a path would demand great sacrifices, testing her resolve and strength.
"Next, there is Hermes, the messenger of the gods," Nostradamus continued, his voice taking on a mysterious tone. 
"With him, you shall bear 6 sons and 2 daughters, one child being that of both sexses.
"You'll embark on a journey of adventure and discovery, but beware, for his path is fraught with danger and unpredictability.."
Y/N envisioned herself at Hermes' side with their many children and the possible struggles, aiding him in serving the gods and his father Zeus. 
Exploring whatever secrets he was obviously hiding and being a part of it all. 
The thought thrilled her adventurous spirit, yet she also felt a twinge of apprehension at the unknown dangers that lay ahead.
"Then, there is Loki, the trickster god," Nostradamus said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He seemed familiar with the god. 
"With him, you shall experience passion and excitement, but be wary, for his love is as unpredictable as the shifting winds.."
“What about the children we could have?”
“Well.. Let's just say you'll have 2 for now”
Y/N shivered at the thought of what Nostradamus could be hiding, what did he mean but for now? 
Y/N also thought about entangling herself with the enigmatic god, knowing all too well the chaos and mischief that followed in his wake. 
Yet, she couldn't deny the allure of his magnetic charm and mischievous grin. Maybe it would be worth it? 
"Finally, there is Beelzebub, the prince of darkness," Nostradamus concluded, his voice heavy with foreboding. 
"With him, you'll have a daughter and you'll be aiding him at the ward with his..patients. But beware, for his love comes at a great cost and he will be hiding something from you.."
Y/N recoiled at the thought of being ensnared by the dark allure of Beelzebub, knowing the perilous path that awaited her should she succumb to his temptations. 
Yet, she couldn't deny the forbidden thrill that stirred within her at the thought of embracing the darkness surrounding him.
As the visions faded and Nostradamus' prophecy came to an end, Y/N nodded and bowed respectfully. 
“Thank you for your assistance Nostradamus! I'm grateful for the information, I'll use it wisely..”
“You better Y/n, ta-ta~!”
With that Y/n left with a choice that would shape the course of her destiny. 
Would she choose the path of serenity with Buddha, the path of adventure with Hermes, the path of passion with Loki, or the path of darkness with Beelzebub?
With her heart torn between love and destiny, Y/N knew that her choice would not only determine her own fate but the fate of her love interests and future children as well. 
And so, with a heavy heart and a determined spirit, she set out on her journey, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead!
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merakiui · 1 year
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YOU'RE SO RIGHT THAT AZUL HAS PREGNANCY KINK THE MOMENT HE SEES YOUR ROUND BELLY HE POPS A BONER AND STARTS SWEATING AND HE WANTS TO FILL YOU WITH HIS EGGS TOO AND-
RIDDLE 🤝 AZUL: LOSERS WITH MASSIVE PREGNANCY KINK.
OTL he tries to be so subtle and normal about it, too, but the twins just know he’s suffering during dinner when he folds his hands in his lap and looks at anywhere but you to appear unfazed. They make sure to bring you around often, but Azul knows they’re just doing this to torment him. And each month your belly is rounder than it was before as the fry within the eggs grow bigger, and just last week when he saw you Jade was helping you swim because it’s so exhausting carrying so many eggs and you had to lean on him for support. You’re so cute and your appetite is so voracious and you always say such sweet things about his family’s restaurant’s food, and Azul has to pretend like he’s listening and isn’t at all distracted with estimating just how many eggs are crammed inside you, how many clutches Jade and Floyd managed to fit, and how many more you’ll take after these are laid… AAAAAAA SOMEONE SAVE HIM…… he’s down so bad, and knowing the twins they probably enjoy pushing all of Azul’s buttons.
You’re almost always pregnant, too, so he can never quite catch a break. Omg and sometimes you’re just so dazed and out of it when you’re sat between the both of them, their hands or tails wrapped possessively around you, and Azul thinks you look so erotic when your mind wanders and your expression is so cutely dumb. orz he’s so desperate to fill you with his own eggs that he might resort to making a deal with the twins just so they’ll let him fuck you. Whatever perception Azul had of you before is dashed now that he’s so accustomed to seeing you so round and domestic all the time. It’s actually a surprise for him when he finally sees you and you aren’t stuffed full of eggs for once.
And since merfolk are intended to be stronger and sturdier for pregnancies, unlike the taxing nature it has on humans who can’t produce nearly as much offspring in one go as merfolk can, it makes filling you with eggs all the more tempting because Azul knows you can take it. Jade and Floyd just need to give him one chance with you; it’s all he wants. He’s so pathetic and horny and desperate and omg!!!! >_< he tells you he’ll take responsibility for any of the fry that survive hatching, so please let him knock you up!!!
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