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maccreadysbaby · 2 days

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A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

the one chapter in this whole fic where bentley makes a rational decision

part thirty-nine

❝ UNLOVABLE ❞

TUESDAY — SEPTEMBER 8 — 11:07 AM

BENTLEY WOKE UP SO DISORIENTED AND FUZZY AND CONFUSED THAT HE JUST STARTED CRYING.

There were bright white lights in his face, and he wasn’t in his bed anymore, he was somewhere else. There were people moving around him, but he didn’t pay attention long enough to decide who, only long enough to decide he was terrified and wanted Bruce. What time was it? No idea. What day was it? No idea. Was he at the hospital? Was something really wrong with him?

“Whoa, hey… hey there, chum. You’re okay,”

Bentley relished in the familiar voice, peeling his heavy, kind of sticky, newly-wet eyes open to glance around the room. It took a solid minute for his brain to catch up to his vision, but when it did, he realized he was in the cave, and Bruce was sitting right next to the bed he was laying in.

He tried to bring his hands up to hide his crying eyes, but paused mid-movement when he realized he was attached to a drip.The movement also seemed to trigger a wave of soreness that washed through his whole body.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay. Just relax. You’re here, with me, in the cave. Everything’s okay,” Bruce spoke in his typical level, gentle tone, one of his hands landing on Bentley’s forehead like it always seemed to. Though, for some reason, he looked… really tired. Worn down.

Bentley breathed in and out shakily, gathering his bearings, trying to stop crying for no reason for the five millionth time in his short life. (Seriously, he had to be setting a record at this point.) Instead, he relaxed back down onto the bed and let Bruce card his fingers through his hair.

“Where’s… Nico?” Was the first thing he managed to whisper.

Bruce got a strange look on his face, before he replied: “Bentley… you’ve been down here for five days. Nico and Asten went home. It’s Tuesday.”

Bentley blinked a few times. It was Tuesday? He had been… he had been completely out of it for five whole days?

He looked around the empty room warily. “What? What happened?”

Bruce sighed softly, brushing his opposite hand through his own hair. “Someones been fiddling with your DNA, and it made you pretty sick.”

Oh. Right. Superpowers. Bentley looked down at his own feet under the cottony blanket, exhaling subtly.

“Bentley,”

He looked back up at Bruce, who had a little smile on his face.

“I will never, ever, ever get rid of you,” He reassured, sighing lightly. “I promise.”

Bentley looked down at his hands, exhaling shakily before he muttered: “My… my father told me… he never loved me. And, uh, that he never would.”

Bruce stayed silent for a moment.

Bentley breathed in and out. It was now or never, wasn’t it? The hard questions had to be asked so things could be fixed, right? “Will you tell me the truth?”

“Of course, bud. Anything,”

Bentley twiddled his fingers, purposefully keeping his eyes away from Bruce when he whispered: “Why is it so hard for people to love me?”

Bruce’s blue eyes grew grim, and he scooted his chair closer to the bed with a squeak. “Bentley Whittaker, you are not hard to love. In fact, you’re almost impossible not to love.”

Bentley looked away, breathing in to force away the urge to cry. “Then why doesn’t he love me?”

Bruce sighed lightly. “That’s his own choice, his own problem. It has nothing to do with you. You are an incredible, brave, amazing kid, Bentley, and I loved you the very first day Dick brought you to me.”

A moment of silence passed.

“Hey,” Bruce continued, his hand moving through Bentley’s hair again, and the child finally looked over at him with slightly glassy eyes. “You could set the whole world on fire and I’d still tell everybody you’re mine.”

Bentley looked down at his feet, blinking rapidly as his eyes began to burn. Did that mean that maybe Bruce wouldn’t hate him for all the things he did? And he wouldn’t get rid of him? And he could stay and keep living with them even though he was an emotional, irrational trainwreck of a child?

Bentley sniffled. “I’m…” Cold? Lonely? Tired of lying? “Can you hold me?”

In one smooth movement, minding the IV tubes, Bentley was with Bruce in the chair.

A few moments of silence passed.

“I wish you were my father,”

A few beats came and went, and Bruce kissed Bentley’s hair.

“I am,”

Oh, God — there it was. The one statement that utterly broke Bentley. That changed something inside of him just like his real father’s statement had. Something cracked. Something moved.

And so Bentley did what Bentley had been so determined not to do for literal weeks.

“You promise you won’t hate me?” He muttered into Bruce’s shirt, making himself small there, tucking his knees up.

“I could never hate you, Bentley,”

Bentley breathed in and out. Once. Twice. Three times. Maybe it really was the right time. Maybe he really should do it — just get it over with. Nico would’ve done it. It was good. It would make everything better, right? Right?

“I wasn’t kidnapped,” Is what he started out with, but then backtracked, because that was not a great place to start. “I mean, no, I was. I was. But, the… uh… the night you guys thought I went missing I actually… uh… I ran away.”

Bruce said nothing, but didn’t make a disapproving sound or expression, either. So Bentley continued.

“I guess… uh… I guess it really started back when… right before school. Or right after, I can’t remember. Something was wrong with Damian. And I tried to talk to him but he got mad…” Bentley cleared his throat. “He told me I wasn’t worthy enough to be a Wayne. That I didn’t belong here and you only had me because you felt bad for me.”

At that, Bruce let out a little sigh.

“I think he was kind of sad, I dunno… I know he didn’t really want to hurt me. I think. But he did anyways,” Bentley shook his head. “And I started looking at everybody, at Dick and Jason and Tim and Damian and Cass and Steph and Duke and… Y’know. They’re all superheroes. Really cool superheroes. And a bunch of them were Robin, and I obviously can’t be Robin, but… I… I had to do something, you know? I wanted to be good enough. So… uh… Asten and Nico and I decided that… uh… we were going to go after the Secret Keeper. Because I could prove that I belonged here if I caught a villain like you guys do.”

“So you left, in pursuit of her?” Bruce inquired gently.

Bentley nodded. “Yeah. Asten found some connections between the missing people and the Areopagus and Dr. Keene, my teacher, and found this cabin in the woods that he owned that a bunch of the victims had stayed in, so we went to check it out. Which… sounds pretty random and dumb, now, I guess…”

Silence passed.

“Uh… he found all that out by finding all the locations of where the people went missing and… uh… well. We kinda… stole Dr. Keene’s phone to get to the cabin schedules and stuff…” Bentley fiddled with his fingers awkwardly. “I know it was bad… but we wanted to help. So, uh, we met up at Nico’s house and started going to the cabin.”

Bentley exhaled heavily. Telling the truth felt strangely… good.

“We walked for a long time, and stopped by Asten’s house in Crime Alley for him to get something, and that was when Nico told me he was adopted and when I realized he had superpowers. Real ones — he has superspeed. And, well, that didn’t go over so well. He was… is really struggling with it. But, uh, anyways, Asten came back and then the Secret Keeper knocked me out and showed me all kinds of futures. Ones where I die, where I work with my father, where I was Robin… and she told me my choice to go to the cabin would lock me in and out of some. So I chose to keep going.”

Bruce still didn’t respond, keeping the door open for Bentley to continue.

“We broke into the cabin. And, uh, it looked pretty normal… at first. And then we found a trapdoor that led to the basement. Asten told me it was called a morgue,” Bentley shivered at the thought. “We opened up one of the fridges and… it was scary. I had an anxiety attack. Nico threw up in the floor. But Asten was fine, I think, and there was this computer down there that had tons of videos on it. Of our teacher, Dr. Keene, working in these labs, turning normal people into metahumans. The first one he did was his own daughter, Charlie Reins… who became The Secret Keeper. And he mind controls them all.”

Bruce exhaled.

“A bunch of the missing kids were in those videos, like Titus Lancaster and Davis Henderson. And we learned that… that… Dr. Keene was… is working for… my father. Trying to destroy you. That’s why the Secret Keeper has been attacking us. Because of me…” Bentley inhaled sharply. “Anyways, we were down there and we heard someone coming, so… we… hid in some of the fridges. Which wasn’t fun. I don’t remember much from then because I was freaking out. We ran out of the cabin and everyone was scared and Asten got his foot stuck in a bear trap and we were trying to help him and then there was a grenade and we all got knocked out.”

Bentley exhaled, sort of shaky, cringing at himself. Word vomiting wasn’t usually something people liked, but Bruce didn’t seem to mind.

“And I woke up in a warehouse, but I wasn’t actually there because it was just the Secret Keeper. I saw Jason die, and it… was really scary. I… I saw you. And I begged you to bring me home but it wasn’t really you…” Bentley fought back another round of stinging in his eyes and forced himself to get it together. “Then I woke up. Davis Henderson, the waiter that got knocked out at that bar because of me, he was there and he got me out of the machine before they could do mind control, he said.”

Bruce nodded slightly. “I remember hearing about Davis.”

“Yeah. He has to wear these super huge metal gloves now, because he kills anything he touches. His mind control was broken. So he got me out, and then we went to get Nico and Asten. And I got shot. Which was scary. And… he told us about Titus Lancaster, who can teleport, and he was going to have surgery to get new mind control so he didn’t have it then. And Davis told us to find him and that he could teleport us out,” He explained. “So we ran for a while. Lots of people were killed. Davis killed a lot of bad guys that were shooting at us, and… Nico did, too, but he didn’t mean to. He has air powers now that can make you choke.”

Bruce hummed.

“But when we were running out the Secret Keeper showed up. So Davis told us to run and he fought her. I’m not sure what happened but I hope he’s okay. He saved me…” Bentley cleared his throat. “But we found Titus, who was really scared, and he teleported us to the manor. And Asten told us not to tell anyone so I… didn’t. And you know everything that’s happened since I got home. Oh — except… I went to see my father to try and convince him to stop, but he said no. And that if I told anybody anything I knew he’d use a plan b that would destroy all of Gotham. But I don’t know what it is. Oh, and Asten has fire powers. And… I guess that’s everything you didn’t know.”

Bentley sighed and looked up at Bruce, who looked near-emotionless, processing all of the information he’d just had dumped in his lap.

“I… I know those things were bad, and that I should’ve told you, and that I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have done, but please, please, please don’t get rid of me. I’ll be better — I won’t do anything bad again. Please don’t-“

“Bentley,”

The Bentley in question was starting to cry again. “Please don’t get rid of me, Bruce. I promise I’ll be better. I promise. You can get me in trouble and yell at me and lock me up or hit me like my dad used to, but please just don’t get rid of me.”

“Bentley. Look at me please,”

Begrudgingly, Bentley looked up, his brown, watery eyes meeting Bruce’s icy blue ones.

“Please don’t get rid of me. I love you,”

Bruce breathed in and out. “Here’s what I have to say, okay? You’re right. Some of those things you did were risky, reckless, dangerous, and wrong, and you were impressively, almost stupidly brave to do them. All because you want to be loved and accepted and validated.”

Bentley looked down, wiping at his furiously leaking eyes with his non-dripped hand.

“Do you want to know what one of the most defining traits of a Wayne is?” Bruce questioned, glancing down at Bentley with a smile that threw the child for a loop. “Being impressively and stupidly brave, and doing things that are risky, reckless, dangerous, and wrong, all because you want to be loved and accepted and validated.”

Bentley said nothing.

“Every single person in this family, Bentley, has done something like this. Even me. Some of us more than once. And while I can’t say I’m thrilled about what you did or what you went through… You survived, you told me the truth, and you were trying to do the right thing. And, I’d have to say, all things considered, I’m pretty proud of that,” Bruce stated with a smile. “I am proud of you, Bentley. And I love you. So. Much. You’re pretty much stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

Bentley had never felt more relieved in his entire short life. Bruce loved him, and he wasn’t going to get rid of him, and he wasn’t mad at him… what kind of fever dream was this? How was it going just like Bentley hoped it would?

“Hey, bud, I want to ask you something. And I want you to be totally, completely honest, okay? Your answer needs to be yours and only yours,”

Bentley nodded slightly, still wiping at his eyes.

Bruce breathed in deep, running a hand over the child’s head with this fond gleam in his eyes that before now, Bentley could have only dreamed of.

“You’ve been living here for almost a year. Fostering for over half of it,” Bruce exhaled. “I think this is as good of a time as any to ask… how do you feel about being adopted, like Dick, Jason, and Tim?”

Bentley freaking lost his mind.

(In the arms of his dad?)

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

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tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @beatyoutothatusernameloser

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crystallizsch · 3 months

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grim and his hench-human :)

heartslabyul • savanaclaw • octavinelle • scarabia • pomefiore • ignihyde • diasomnia

#i did not like grim at first but he really grew on me #idk how #it kinda just happened #i love grim no one hurt my lil guy #[—#twisted wonderland #twst #twst ramshackle #twst grim #twst yuu #(🩷) yuuna #★'-my-art #—]#anyways this twst candy thing i did all in like less than a week back in the beginning of december #which was wild #but uh at least that's done #and unfortunately i still have twst on the mind and i'm still going to be insufferable about it

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katsu28 · 1 month

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for you i'd wait forever

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

summary: bradley breaks things off with you before a deployment because he doesn't want you to worry about him (4.2k)

warnings: some swearing, bradley's commitment issues, happy ending i promise!

a/n: okay so from what i gathered from my googling is that tapping out is typically for new military graduates (i think?) but this idea was so cute so pls forgive the inaccuracies i have no idea what i'm doing at all <3 and also pls forgive me for the utter lack of writing since the beginning of the year, these last few months have been brutal (creatively and otherwise) but i am hopefully back!!! xx

Bradley thought he knew the tolls of being in the Navy. It was tough on not only him, but the people in his life. For the most part, he’d always put his career first. His life had always been on a set track, and although there were plenty of setbacks, he forged ahead until he got where he was today.

And then he met you. Fell in love with you. Finally knew what it meant to have someone in his corner who was just his. Who knew him for him only, not as Goose’s kid, or Mav’s protege.

For the first time in his life, he could actually see himself spending the rest of it with you. Marriage, house, kids, grandkids—the whole shebang.

That was his first mistake. The more he thought about what life could look like with you, the more he thought about what your life could look like without him. What would happen if something happened to him and he didn’t make it back from this next mission coming up in a few weeks.

He thought about his mom and how she lost his dad—her husband. The man she thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with.

Bradley’s thoughts grew quite grim after that. Countless what if’s and thinking about every possible outcome and he eventually made up his mind. He had to break up with you.

He didn’t want to. Not by a long shot. You were probably the best thing that ever happened to him in his thirty plus years of life. But deep down, he knew that it was the right thing to do. He was about to leave for six, seven months, with little to no contact with anyone who wasn’t Navy. That would definitely take a toll on your relationship. You’d never been through something like this before, and there really was no way to prepare you for what it would be like.

You would worry about him every single hour of every single day, he knew that for a fact. Bradley barely remembered what it was like when his dad was away because he was so young, but he did remember how worried his mom was all the time.

Looking back, he understood now. He didn’t want that for you. The worry would hold you back from other things you wanted to do in life, things that brought you joy and gave you purpose.

With the mission creeping up on him faster than he would’ve liked, he knew he had to do it sooner rather than later.

That was how Bradley found himself on your doorstep right now, pushing down his guilt by telling himself over and over that breaking up with you was in your best interest. He hadn’t called beforehand to tell you he was coming by, so when you answered the door and beamed brighter than the stars when your eyes landed on him, he almost wanted to chicken out.

“Hi!” You exclaimed, immediately pulling him into a warm hug. His arms closed around you out of instinct, thumb rubbing over the sliver of exposed skin at your waist, nose nudging its way against your neck the way he always did when you embraced him.

He inhaled the scent of the lotion you loved to use, that flowery one that sometimes made him sneeze. You always said you’d buy a different one the next time you went to the store, but you always forgot. He didn’t mind it at all though. A small bout of allergies was nothing compared to the inevitable smattering of apology kisses you pressed to his face when you realized you’d forgotten.

Fuck, this was going to be way harder than he thought.

Your hands made their way up his biceps to cup his cheeks, eyes darting around his face. “What’re you doing here? Oh my god, did we have something planned? I’m so—”

“No.” He gave his head a shake, offering you a smile. “No, we didn’t have anything planned. I just…wanted to see you. To talk to you.”

“Come in, come in, I was just about to start dinner,” You hummed, escaping his embrace with an arm hooked through his to tug him over the threshold. “Trying a new recipe I found the other day, not sure if it’ll turn out good or end up being a shitshow, but—well, you can help me be the judge of that, I guess!”

“Is it okay if we talk first?”

If you were confused, you didn’t show it, just changed direction seamlessly, making your way to the couch instead of the kitchen. You sat down, patting the cushion next to you for him to settle on and he did, rubbing his clammy palms against his thighs.

“Is everything okay?”

Everything was far from okay, he wanted to say. Instead he inhaled a deep breath before his next words.

“I wanted to tell you I’m shipping out in a few weeks.”

Your face fell a little, but you nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. What do we do? Is there anything you can tell me? Like, what’s the best way to get in touch with you, when’s the best time, that kind of stuff? Or is sending letters better? Sorry, I feel like I’m asking a lot of questions. I don’t—I’ve never really done anything like this before, so—”

“I think we should break up.” He blurted.

You hesitated before answering, blinking at him like you’d somehow heard him wrong. “What?”

“It’s hard having someone overseas for a long time, even more so when it’s a partner. It was really hard on my mom, and hard for me having to watch her worry like that for months, and I—I don’t want that for you.” He said quietly, not daring to meet your eyes until he gave his poor excuse for an explanation on why he was doing the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do to you.

The moment he’d realized he’d fallen in love with you, he’d promised himself he would never abandon you, never break your heart or your trust, and here he was, doing that exact thing. It was tearing him apart inside.

“I don’t want you to have to go through all that, so it’s just better if we—that we break up now. Before I go.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry. It’s for the best.”

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice broke just after the last word, swallowed up by a hitched inhale of a breath that had his resolve wavering just the slightest bit. He could barely look you in the eyes the whole time, and now…he didn’t think he could stand the sadness and hurt flooding every single one of your beautiful features.

“All the worrying and the uncertainty of not knowing what’s happening, I don’t—it wouldn’t be fair to you. I care about you too much to put you through all of that.”

You were silent for the longest time, eyes glued to the floor as you processed the information. He thought you were about to start crying with the way your brow creased, but when you finally looked back up at him, your gaze had hardened. “Did these last six months mean nothing to you? You’re just gonna throw everything away because what—you don’t think I can handle it?”

They meant everything to me, he wanted to say. You mean everything to me.

If he was really being honest with himself, it was him who couldn’t handle it. Still, he forged on, thinking it best to just rip off the bandaid. He could live with being the asshole if it meant sparing you from the terrible experience of him being god knows how many miles away for months.

“I’m sorry. I wish you nothing but happiness, Y/N. You deserve better than anything I could ever give you.”

“You wish me nothing but happiness?” You chuckled humorlessly, shaking your head. Bradley’s eyes tracked you across the room as you paced back and forth, guilt ridden expression on full display. All he wanted to do was take all of it back; to kiss you senseless and tell you everything was going to work out, but he couldn’t. He’d burned the bridge, cut the rope. Broke your heart. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He probably was. “Screw you, Bradley. I mean it.”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was all he could say.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Y/N, I—”

You rushed at him, pushing, shoving, sending him stumbling step by step towards the front door until he almost crashed into it had he not managed to pull it open a split second before you shoved him outside. He’d never forget the look of betrayal in your eyes right before you slammed the door in his face.

Bradley forced his feet to take him back to his car, then to drive away before he could have a chance to even try and make things better. He’d most likely end up making things much, much worse. Though he didn’t think it could get any worse with the way he was feeling about himself right now. You were angry at him, and you had every right to be.

But had he lingered at your door only moments after, he would’ve heard the thump against the wood that was you sliding down to the floor and the sob that escaped your mouth.

All because of him.

-------

Bradley was happy to finally be coming back home after ages away, but then he realized it—he didn’t have anyone to tap him out this time. His mind jumped to you first, but there was no chance in hell you’d be there for him. You’d probably moved on months ago. Forgotten about him. And with Mav away on another deployment, he really had no one.

His chest ached the longer he stood at attention, jaw clenched tighter than he meant it to be as he watched the rest of his squad get tapped out by their loved ones. Coyote’s parents, Fanboy’s sisters, Hangman’s nieces and nephews, Phoenix’s girlfriend. They were all emotional reunions, and Bradley was happy for them, he really was. But it sucked being the one with nobody there for him.

He wasn’t expecting the soft tap on his arm when it came. He thought it was a mistake at first; someone else’s family bumping into him accidentally, so he didn’t move. But when the hand didn’t leave its place wrapped loosely around his bicep, Bradley knew it really was for him. He turned around, squinting against the blinding sunlight to see who’d come for him.

“Hi.” You said softly, hand dropping back down to your side. He couldn’t help but let himself take you in, eyes drinking in every single achingly familiar detail of you until you shifted nervously under his intense gaze. You looked so beautiful he almost felt dizzy, just like he remembered but at the same time somehow even better.

“You came.” He said, disbelieving. He could still hardly believe you were actually here.

“I promised you I would.”

“But that—that was before…everything happened. Why are you—what’re you doing here?” The last thing he wanted to sound like was ungrateful, because he was quite literally the opposite, but his mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that despite him breaking your heart seven months ago, you still remembered what you’d promised him in the very beginning of your relationship.

“What does it mean to tap someone out?” You asked quietly, tracing a finger along the planes of Bradley’s bare chest. Your legs were tangled under the covers, both of you still basking in the aftermath of getting reacquainted with each other again after Bradley had been out of town attending a weeklong training exercise.

His skin was still damp with sweat, but you didn’t mind one bit, too busy exploring the expanse of muscle shifting under his bronzed skin again. “In military terms, I mean.”

He chuckled, hiding a content smile into the hair at the crown of your head. “That’s a weird question.”

“Humor me, Bradshaw.”

“Yes ma’am.” Bradley stroked a rough palm down the smooth skin of your arm, taking a few beats to come up with an answer that would make sense. “Tapping out is a super long standing tradition in pretty much all military units, I think. It comes at the end of a mission, when we’ve come back to base.”

His arm repositioned itself under your head as he scooted closer to the warmth radiating from your body, nose nuzzling deeper against you just so he could engrain the smell of your lingering fruity scented shampoo into his memory forever.

How you still smelled so good even after your…physical activities just before this was beyond him, but he loved it.

“An aviator’s loved ones are usually the ones to do it. Friends, family, those kinds of people. When you tap out your aviator, literally you’re releasing them from formation. But I guess it’s kind of a gesture that means…you’re home.”

Your wandering fingers stilled against his skin, lingering right above his heart. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it.”

“Who usually taps you out?”

Bradley remained silent. It was an innocent question, he knew that. He’d told you a little bit about his parents, and you were just curious. Still, it sent a pang of sadness through his chest whenever he thought about what it would’ve been like if they were still around today.

He cleared his throat, sniffing once. “Usually Mav. Or sometimes one of my squad’s family. If no one can, I just gotta wait til everyone else is done.”

“I wanna do it.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna be there next time you come back from a mission. To tap you out.”

“I appreciate it, honey, I do. But you don’t need to.”

“I want to.” You said firmly, pulling away from him to prop yourself up on your elbow and look him in the eye. You looked damn serious too. He raised a quizzical brow. “You said that to tap someone out means to tell them they’re home. I want to be the one to tell you you’re home. Here. With me.”

Bradley opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then snapped shut when no words came out. He really was at a loss for words. No one had ever done that before. Sure, Mav’s offer was always a good one to fall back on, but Bradley had never had someone he cared about as much as he did about you telling him they were going to be there for him.

The next best thing he could think of instead of saying anything at all was to kiss you. So he did.

He pushed himself up towards you, sliding a hand around the nape of your neck and pressing his lips against yours. Not bruisingly hard, but enough to let you know he was all in. The other hand curled around your shoulder, splaying across your back to bring you back in closer to him, until your chests were flush and you could feel his heartbeat thundering under your palm.

He was home. You were his home.

“I told you I’d be here to tap you out, and I meant it.” You said simply, holding his gaze. “I keep my promises, Bradshaw. Even after the way you left things.”

Red hot guilt crept its way through his chest like vines, bringing all the memories of the last time you saw each other right back up to the surface, even after how hard he’d tried to shove them all down. If there was one thing he regretted in life, it was how he left you that night. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for that one.

“I don’t even know what to say, Y/N, I—”

“Then let me say something.” You blurted, wringing your hands. Bradley nodded instantly, still too dumbfounded to reply. “I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to say to you today for months. I don’t even know if I should.”

“You should.” He encouraged, nodding quickly. He’d always wanted you to be able to speak your mind with him. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear it.”

“Okay. Okay, well first of all, you’re an asshole, Bradley.”

He nodded again. He deserved at least that much. “I am. Absolute asshole, I know.”

“But I never stopped loving you. Even though I was angry and sad and confused as fuck as to why you would do that to me, I still loved you. And eventually, I realized that it wasn’t anything I did wrong. You were scared. Of losing me, of me losing you. So you decided it was your responsibility to pull the ripcord before you crashed and burned.” Bradley winced slightly at the comparison and you grimaced at your own poor choice in words. “I—sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s okay. You’re right. You didn’t deserve that.”

“You said you didn’t want me to worry while you were gone, well, I did that anyways.” You chuckled, like you were remembering a fond memory instead of the constant state of anxiety you’d been in. “But instead of worrying that the man I love might not make it home, I was terrified that if you didn’t come home, I’d spend my whole life replaying our last conversation in my head. Wondering if there was something I could’ve said or done so you wouldn’t have given up on us so easily.”

“You think that was easy for me? Sweetheart, walking away from you was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my whole life.”

“Sure seemed pretty easy.” You scoffed lightly, only a tad spiteful. A low blow, you realized, when Bradley stiffened for a split second, but you held steady.

“It wasn’t.” His reply was immediate and firm as could be, but somehow, that didn’t make you feel any better. “You have to understand, breaking things off was the last thing I wanted to do. But I couldn’t—I thought that if I didn’t, you’d wait for me.”

“I would’ve waited, Bradley! I did wait for you! For you, I'd wait forever because I love you, but you didn’t even give me that choice. You made the decision on your own instead of talking to me about it. That was what hurt the most.”

“I’m sorry.” Bradley said quietly, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers laced through yours almost tentatively, feeling so familiar but so foreign at the same time. There was a point in your life where you never thought that concept would apply to Bradley. “I never should’ve left like that, I wish I could take it all back.”

“I think I understand now why you did it. I understand that fear that comes with the experience of losing a loved one like that. But Bradley, you’re not responsible for my feelings. And I don’t care how scared you get, I’m not going anywhere. From now on, we work things out together, no matter what you think is best.”

“From now on? Does that mean…?”

“You’re my home, Bradley Bradshaw.”

Bradley took your face in his hands and he kissed you, long and hard, pouring every ounce of pent up feelings he’d been bottling up for the past seven months into it. Pain, fear, love, hope—all of it. You were never one to believe in such emotion being able to convey itself through a simple physical action, but now you could honestly say you understood it.

Your hands spread across the broadness of his back, fingers pressing into the crisp starch of his uniform like you were afraid of letting him go , even though he was home and everything was okay now. Losing him the first time made you angry. You didn’t even want to imagine possibly losing him a second time.

He drew back, only far enough to press his lips to your forehead, hands still holding you close as could be. “Thank you for coming.”

“I don’t make a habit of breaking my promises.”

“C’mon, I wanna introduce you to the squad.” He said softly, lacing his fingers through yours. The way he all but bounded over to the group of aviators a little ways away was almost boyish, as was the excitement in his voice when he approached them. “Hey everyone, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Bradley announced, sliding a hand around to the small of your back.

Everyone’s eyes turned on you, conversations petering to a gradual stop as they looked between you and Bradley. You shifted nervously, suddenly feeling unsure with all the attention on you, but Bradley’s thumb rubbed along your skin, soothing you just a bit. “This is Y/N. My girlfriend.”

The tall blond reacted the quickest, snapping loudly before aiming a finger in your direction, along with a shiny smile. “Wait, I know you! You’re the one in that photo Rooster keeps tucked in his helmet. Lemme tell you, he looked at that picture every damn day, it was like—”

Bradley let out a very forced laugh, aiming a not-so-subtle daggered glare at the other man. “Okay, Hangman! That’s okay, I really don’t think—”

“You’re a real saint, taking this one back. If I ever pulled the shit he did, my car would’ve been keyed to all hell when I came home.” Hangman chuckled, giving his head a shake.

“Hangman. Shut. Up.”

“Don’t tell me to shut up, you shut up!”

“You’re the only one talking!”

“Alright, alright, you’re both grown men here,” The dark haired woman sighed, turning towards you. “At least, I hope so.”

You chuckled at that, casting a glance over at Bradley to find him already looking back at you, the back and forth with Hangman already long forgotten given the way he was smiling at you, like you were the force that made the world go round. Taking you in under his arm, he dotted a kiss to your hairline as your fingers came up to intertwine with his again, watching you interact with his squad like you’d known them for years.

It was everything he ever wanted. And now that he had it, he’d never be dumb enough to let it go again.

His mind drifted back to his parents’ fate— how they never got to live out their life together. How there was no guarantee about anything when it came to Bradley’s own fate with you.

And sure, it was scary to be so uncertain about the future, but you’d both climb that hill together when the time came. For now, Bradley could let himself be content. This second chance at a life with you wasn’t one he was planning on taking lightly, not by a long shot.

“Let’s get off this damn carrier and hit the town! Drinks at the Hard Deck, last one there buys the first round!” Hangman’s drawling voice drew Bradley out of his thoughts, just in time to let the words sink in.

You, on the other hand, stifled a giggle at the sight of seeing a group of full grown adults scatter as fast as Bradley’s friends did. Watching Hangman nearly shove Coyote to the ground upon seeing their cars were parked next to each other was something you’d never not get a kick out of.

But Bradley, he didn’t seem as worried about it all. In fact, he walked leisurely with your hand firmly in his, swinging both of them between the two of you as you made your way to your own car.

“Aren’t you worried you’ll be the last one there?”

“I’ll buy the round, I don’t care.” He shrugged. “I wanna spend some time with my girl.”

“Your girl.” You hummed, giving his hand a squeeze. “Gotta say, I’ve missed hearing that.”

“I’ve missed saying it. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, honey. Starting with, do you or do you not have a voodoo doll made in my image that you stabbed with pins when I was away because I broke your heart?”

You scoffed, letting out a not so attractive snort. “Bradley, I mean this in the most respectful way possible—what the hell are you talking about? Where would you even get that idea?”

“I—uh, I had a dream about it? A few weeks into deployment.” He admitted sheepishly, cheeks burning red in embarrassment. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “You don’t, right?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You replied, giving his chest a firm pat. You didn’t have a voodoo doll of him, of course, but playing along was worth it just to see Bradley squirm.

“Wait, wait, wait, but you didn’t say no.”

“I didn’t.”

“So you do?”

“I didn’t say that either. But if you’re not sure, I’d watch yourself the next couple weeks.”

His brows furrowed in confusion and a bit of fear as he watched you walk away from him with some bounce to your step. “I…really don’t like the sound of that. Hang on, get back here. Explain, please!”

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fluff #first fic in forever WHO CHEERED #it's me i cheered #when i tell you it was a relief to know i can still write things #ok shut up kait #ENJOY <3

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millienia · 2 months

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the c in NRC stands for cat

synopsis: in which heartslabyul deals with a cat loving no-magic having ramshackle prefect. (headcanons) gn!yuu

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

when he saw you clinging to the raccoon-cat-thing at the entrance ceremony, he did not know how to react.

normal people would panic. normal people would avoid a fire-breathing monster-cat-whatever that was spewing absolute nonsense.

apparently not you, though. although, one could say you already aren’t normal, considering the lack of magic. it wasn’t just not that much potential, you were basically in the negatives.

anyways, cats.

he got a peek under your ceremonial robes, and you were wearing..

a pajama shirt with a cat print on it. it looked horrendous.

riddle himself grew up with.. well, a cat. beastperson. so he probably would only have a surface level of appreciation for their greatness.

6/10 for cat lovers, i guess. he wouldn’t really mind, but he’d think it a tad strange. lower points because it took him a while to finally start letting grim into areas of festivity.

TREY CLOVER

this guy has siblings. like, siblings siblings. he’s used to being around people with strange interests (his brother tried to feed him a live insect once. not fun).

so, i’m sure he appreciates that your interests are on the much safer side of the wide, wide spectrum.

except when the two of you hang out while he’s baking and suddenly ace and deuce are complaining about cat hair in their tarts.

please do not bring your cats in the kitchen, thank you very much.

he’d feed your cat(s)! very sweet guy.

8/10 for cat lovers! good ascend from riddles, except two points taken from him because one, the Cat™ isn’t allowed in the kitchen and two, he just seems like a dog person to me.

CATER DIAMOND

please do not turn the great grim into a marketable plushie.

cater.

just kidding, he wouldn’t do that.

or would he?

i think he’d be a good cat co-parent! just like trey, i think he’d feed your cat when you can’t, he’d catsit while you’re in class.. etc, etc.

mostly because the posts he makes of your cat blow up, but also because he likes your cat!

the level fluctuates depending if this cat is grim or not. please do not ask me why.

8/10 for cat lovers! not bad, not bad at all! except, now there’s merch of grim- and while he’s proud of himself (this is only to be expected for the great grim! according to him), you just wish you got some of the revenue.

ACE TRAPPOLA

no.

just, no.

i think he’d look at a cat litter and go, “what’s that?”. maybe he’d even try to sniff it.

gives off grew up with a dog vibes, i don’t know why.

he goes like “EUGH” when he finds cat hair in the food you made for him.

you felt kinda bad, but he ate it anyways while complaining. you were pretty conflicted.

he’d be.. i don’t know. unremarkable. not that good, though.

5/10 for the cat lovers. no comment. this gremlin, i swear.

DEUCE SPADE

he LITERALLY isn’t any better than ace.

maybe he used to feed some of the stray cats on the way home from school when he was in elementary, but that’s probably the extent of his experience.

will also complain about cat hair. politely.

“uhm.. i think grims hair is in my soup?” kind of polite. except he’s grimacing and staring at grim like the cat just insulted his mother and all his ancestors.

he will also sniff your cat litter. and grim will laugh in the heartslabyul first year duo’s faces.

thanks, grim.

5/10 for the cat lovers.. again. he’s really just the same. he’d probably be nicer than ace, but the latter just has more experience with pets. probably. hopefully.

special guest, IDIA SHROUD!

do i even need to say anything?

you two have matching cat print pajamas. ortho would cry tears of joy if he could.

you bring your cats to ignihyde and you all hang out. <3

you, idia, and your 23 cats. it really is the life.

he paid you in genesis crystals for permission to pat one of your cats on the head.

you two have a cat lovers gc where you just send cat pictures and talk about your cats, very fun.

10/10 for cat lovers! first ever 10/10, and it’s from idia shroud? riddle is seething. great cat parent! though, he’s a bit attached. it’s okay, though, he buys your cats toys.

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faeryarchives · 3 months

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its you, it always has been you

summary: it was right then and there that he knew, he had fallen in love recent works: don't lose me, not yet & stay with me (leona kingscholar x gn!reader) & heartslabyul with a furina-like female reader!

* ˚ ✦ you're always on my mind, even out of sight: he always wonder when did it actually start? sometimes in the middle of the day, his thoughts would randomly travel back to you - are you taking care of yourself? oh look, he found a patch of (favorite flowers) in the hidden area of the botanical garden + wondering if you would like it if he give you a bouquet 💐 everything reminds you of him and he is getting frustrated why does everything goes back to you until he saw you from the distance admiring the sunset with grim and that is when he knew "no wonder you're always on my mind, even when you're out of sight' (girl i was wondering why it sounds familiar it's doppio's debut line) 🤍

— riddle rosehearts, cater diamond, LEONA KINGSCHOLAR, azul ashengrotto, vil schoenheit

* ˚ ✦ the world looks so dull without you: at first, it was not really noticeable but when you start to get busier day by day, his world gradually lost it's color (not literally) he didn't know why but there was something very important missing and yet he try to distract himself + thinking everything will go back to normal → he was so wrong and everything felt wrong 🤬 he tried going back to the root of all this and he noticed that everything happened when you spend less and less time with him so he tried the theory out and went out to see you and voila !! it was like he was feeling everything at once and the realization sink in + not spending another minute to waste and went on to spend time with you with his heart so full and beating rapidly against his chest from joy 🤩

— ACE TRAPPOLA, ruggie bucchi, floyd leech, kalim al asim, rook hunt, idia shroud, silver

* ˚ ✦ i can't imagine you with someone else: he doesn't like the feeling he gets when you get close with others and he hated himself for that 😿 it's an ugly feeling to have and he treats you as a friend + he has no reason to feel selfish right? they tried hiding it to themselves yet to no one's surprised - the more they bury the thought the more it grew and they finally come to terms with it when he realized it's not that he doesn't want you to have other friends, but he can't imagine you being in a relationship with someone else. he know that he is not the perfect person you want to have but won't you give him just one chance? 🥺

— deuce spade, trey clover, jack howl, jade leech, epel felmier, SEBEK ZIGVOLT

* ˚ ✦ all of the above in order: this man will go stages of grief for aloooong time i tell you 😭 their first stage is thinking about you all the time along with denial → they may be too smart for their own good but really dumb when it comes to acknowledging their own feelings 🧍🏻‍♀️second stage ofc they would realize the empty space you left behind temporarily and how their world seems to be incomplete + like the colors just vanished in thin air and they would start to recognize the fact that maybe it's okay to have feelings for you? nothing is stoping them from admiring you right? 🧐 but no is still no! maybe you are just close friends and he misses your company that's all! 👩🏻‍⚖️ third one is the same → they believe some people do not deserve your attention at all and made them very sad at one point because they can't stand the image of you with someone else 😔 last stage is acceptance and it just came on a random day of you two hanging out - hearing your usual stories and laughter light a bulb inside of his head and he finally accepted the fact that he had already fallen in love with you. 🫵

— JAMIL VIPER malleus draconia, lilia vanrouge

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queer-n-here · 26 days

Text

I'm back! And here's the fic y'all. It's not proofread though, so...

And again, yes, I vote on my own polls. And yes, I voted for fluff. Let a man have his moments, y'all.

So, Yandere!Criminal! Abilty User! Reader x Tachihara Michizo.

Contents: Yandere!Criminal! Abilty User! Reader fucking Tachihara because he's obsessed.

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, biting (reader receiving), dubcon/noncon, nipple play.

You had been one of the assassins under Guild, their ace card. But before they could find an opening to use you, Guild crumpled.

You escaped. Guild had never been your last option, and you weren't dedicated enough to it to consider ending yourself with it.

Unfortunately, the Special Division for Powerful Abilities got wind of your existence, even though Guild tried to hide it the best it could. That's how you found the Hunting Dogs at your tail.

Now, sitting in the cell designed specially to imprison ability-users, you sighed softly.

The Hunting Dogs were trying to get you to spit out the information regarding the last of the Guild's dregs, so that they could clean it completely, and officially consider that case closed.

Sadly for them, even if you had willingly left Guild, you had something of an emotional attachment to the members, and despite hours of continuous torture, you didn't spill.

Of the Hunting Dogs, the one you liked the most was definitely Tachihara. I mean, even though all the time you two spend together was him interrogating and torturing you, you couldn't help but develop a sick liking to him, the sort that made you look forward to seeing him.

You were sure Tachihara knew about it. I mean, you did make a point to drill this fact into every single one of the Hunting Dogs except him. One of them must have brought it up to tease him.

One day, to your delightful surprise, the guards bound your hands not with the usual cuffs, but with a rope instead.

Just this slight change from general routine was enough to send your brain speeding. Today was Tachihara's turn, wasn't it? If he couldn't manipulate your cuffs, since they weren't of metal anymore, did that mean...

You smirked, and let the guards shove you into a cell. Standing in front of you was Tachihara, face grim and one hand on the sword at his waist.

"I know what you might be thinking." He said, as the guards grabbed you and rammed you into a chair. "Your cuffs aren't metal today, so you can escape. Look around you though."

You did, and noticed that the cell walls seemed to be made entirely of metal. It did nothing to douse your smirk, however. Escaping was not what you had in mind.

The guards left, locking the door from outside. You turned to look at Tachihara.

"You look beautiful today." You cooed at him, and he flushed.

"For the last time, [Last Name]," He said through gritted teeth. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

"Hmm, didn't you miss me?" You leaned forwards, eyes shining at him. "Because I missed you."

Tachihara shook his head, turning to let his back face you. You didn't mind, you liked the view of his ass just as much as his face. He was here was all that mattered.

He pulled out his sword, and it slowly grew into a spiral. You knew what that was for, but before he could use it, you decided to make your move.

Your ability was a really handy one. It could create thick padding of clothing out of nowhere, and make it disappear, too. It might seem slightly lame at first glance, but it was highly useful when you could create said padding in someone's airways, and then remove it later to make it look like they choked on their own spit.

Unlike that ability user from the Port Mafia, what was his name?... Right, yeah, Akutagawa Ryomen. Unlike him, your ability could not produce sharp or thin fabric. But you could clog up people's joints, tracheas, lungs, brain, whatever you wanted.

Now, however, as you gnashed at the ropes binding your hands, your ability created a protective sphere around you and Tachihara.

He yelped, whipping around to thrust his sword towards you, but before it could touch you, you had covered up the entire blade with the padding, and the sword was useless. The ropes binding your wrists fell away, torn to shreds by your teeth.

Tachihara tried to manipulate the sword into shapes that could tear through the fabric, but you were faster. Yanking the sword out of his hand, you created an opening in the sphere, and deposited the sword outside this little world of you and him.

"Fuck, damnit" He cursed, trying to use the metal parts of his belt and hat to attack you, but they suffered the very same fate as his sword.

The chair was left out, and so was all of the metal in the cell. He had virtually nothing to attack you with.

You stepped closer to him, and he tried to swing a punch at you, but you grabbed his wrist, pushed his arm back and pinned him to a cloth wall thick enough to stand with his weight pressed to it.

"Fucking let me go," Tachihara hissed, trying to struggle out of your grip. "What do you want?"

"I thought you'd know what I wanted, 'Hara," You said softly, smiling at him. "I mean, I've been so transparent with you since day one."

He frowned, trying to push you away, and you bound his hands with thick fabric.

"Come, now, don't be like this," You said, leaning over him. "I've finally gotten this chance. I've been rotting in this prison for so long, don't you think you should let me have some fun?"

Tachihara's eyes widened slightly at the implications of your words. "Fuck, guards! GUARDS!"

"Don't bother," You raised a hand to caress his face, and he flinched away. Something burnt in your chest, but you touched him anyway, knowing that with time he'd come to expect your love. "I've soundproofed the room perfectly."

"Fuck you," He was panicking, you could tell. "Whatever you do, once you get out, they're gonna have you killed. So it doesn't matter how you hurt me."

"Hurt you?" The surprise that showed on your face was genuine, and so was the hurt. "No, I'd never hurt you, baby."

You leaned forwards, so gentle in the way you were touching him that his eyes widened again, and his struggles paused.

"You... What?"

"Mm-hmm," You pressed your forehead against his, and conjured up a desk behind Tachihara's knees, so he was sitting on it with his back against the wall. "Why would I wanna do that, hmm?"

You removed your hand from his cheek, and started unbuttoning his shirt.

He yelped, startled at the sudden change in your focus. "Wait, wait, wait-"

You ripped his shirt off him, and his pants followed too. He started struggling again, trying to kick you away. You caught his ankles, and yanked his legs open, exposing his cock and hole to you.

"So pretty," You murmured, transfixed. "So beautiful."

"What the fuck are you doing?" Tachihara kept trying to rip his hands free of their restraints, but to no avail. "What the fuck do you- Nggh!"

You wrapped your hand around his cock and started stroking at a certain pace.

"Fuck, stop it, stop it!" He thrashed around underneath you, trying to squirm away. You held his waist firmly, fingers digging into his pretty pale skin. "You sick little-"

You grabbed his face with one hand and kissed him, shutting him up. His cock was starting to get erect now, twitching against your hand. You nipped and bit at Tachihara's lips, feeling his breath hitch under you.

Your strokes slowed, and your hand started venturing lower instead. You found his hole, and gave the rim a little stroke. He huffed against your lips, eyes screwed shut.

You pulled away from his lips, sucking on your fingers instead. Once they were fully coated with spit, you lowered them to his hole again, and raised your head to look up at him.

"I'm going to prep you, hmm?" You placed a kiss on one of his eyes, and he tried to turn his head away to avoid it.

"Why are you telling me?!" He scowled. "It's not like if I say no, you won't- Mmph!"

You prepped him, just like you'd promised, and it wasn't long before Tachihara's struggles weakened. He kept trying to talk, kept trying to curse you away, but you turned a deaf ear to most of the things he said. Your fingers loosened his insides, and his huffs and pants turned into moans even as he bit his lip to stop them.

Soon, he was more than ready for your cock, which you freed quickly from your prison pants and boxers. Aligning it to Tachihara's hole, you slowly pushed in.

"F-hah! Fuck, what is- why are you..." He couldn't speak, eyes glued to where you two met. "Don't do this, don't- Ughh!"

You thrusted into him, watching as his pretty face changed expressions. His eyes blurred up, and his back arched, pushing his nipples into your face. You started gaining a rhythm, holding the underside of his knees to keep his legs apart.

"Fuck!" Tachihara gripped onto the very same restraints he had been trying to free himself from, scrambling to find purchase to ground himself against the feeling of your cock in him.

You lowered your head and sucked on his nipples, biting and teasing him as your dick bullied his insides, each thrust making him shudder and clamp down on his lips harder to block a moan. You moved your lips to his instead, prying them open and sliding your tongue in, hips snapping into his and making his thighs tremble.

"Don't be like this," You said. "Let me hear you, hmm? Let me know how good I'm making you feel right now, baby."

Your thrusts grew more forceful, cock ravaging his body. Tachihara didn't even need your encouragement, he could hardly hold his moans back anymore, and soon your ears were filled with his sounds, his pants and huffs and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

You pounded into him, making his eyes tear up and roll to the back of his head. You could see the bulge in his stomach with each thrust, the come and go image of your dick, driving you feral.

"Ah, uhh! Hah!"

Tachihara was starting to clench on you now, his pretty face all covered with tears and lips swollen with all that biting. He looked so fucking sexy, shoulders trembling and sweat-soaked hair sticking to forehead, it almost drove you mad.

Suddenly, with one particular thrust, Tachihara screamed, eyes wide and watery and hands scratching the cloth wall behind him. You understood, shifting slightly to hit his sweet spot again.

You freed his hands, just to see how he'd react, but he thoughtlessly wrapped his arms around your neck and pressed his tear-soaked face into the crook of your neck. Your eyes widened slightly, but then you started fucking him harder, abusing his sweet spot with your tip and feeling him clench around you.

His moans started to tune into cries, and he could no longer muffle them against your skin. He bit down on your shoulder instead, sending a spark of heat right down to your cock. His constant ah-ah-ah's were driving you insane, and the pace at which your hips were rolling into his was already inhuman.

And Tachihara, oh gods, he was going insane. You were rearranging his insides to the shape of your cock, each nudge of your tip against his sweet spot making his brain more and more cloudy. He could hardly think of anything but you now, pathetic and desperate for your cock.

It felt so good, so amazing, he came before he'd even realised it, cum shooting out of his untouched dick as he clenched unbearably tight around yours, making it difficult for you to thrust in and out.

You weren't far behind, and pretty soon you reached your own orgasm, painting his walls white with your seed as your hips slowed to a stop.

Tachihara fell back, and your ability caught him perfectly. You pulled out of him, raising your head to look at that pretty face of his.

He looked so gorgeous all fucked-out, chest heaving with each breath and with no strength to even wipe his own stomach, you couldn't help but coo.

"Pretty baby," You whispered, and wrapped your arms around him.

#dom male reader #top male reader #dom reader #bungou stray dogs #sub bsd #sub bsd x you #bsd x you #sub bungou stray dog x you #sub bungou stray dogs #sub character #sub character x you #sub tachihara x you #sub tachihara

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bones4thecats · 2 months

Note

hi, if it's not a problem I would like to make a request with Jamil, during his overblot he plays Kalim, Grim and the octanaville trio in the desert but he stayed with y/n because he had feelings for her, and she also had feelings for Jamil , then Jamil in his overblot state adoring and spoiling y/n, and her treating Jamil like a king

OB! Jamil Keeping Crush! S/O Around

Type of Writing: Request Character: Jamil Viper Name: OB! Jamil Keeping Crush! S/O Around Requester: @marinahavik

A/N: This is my first request written in quite a while. I do hope you like this!

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐍 As a fellow member of Scarabia, you were close to both the housewarden of your dorm and your vice-housewarden

🐍 Jamil and you had a very unusual bond, he just seemed so off too you. But that didn't stop you from admiring him

🐍 Because of how much you admired him and began to help around Scarabia with his work to watch over Kalim, everyone swears that was the one thing keeping him from overblotting sooner

🐍 When you walked inside Scarabia with Yuu, Grim, and the renowned Octavinelle trio, you were fearful, were they right? Was Jamil really hypnotizing your dorm members, even Kalim?

🐍 You were there when the tweels helped reveal his true side, and when he yelled about how much he hated Kalim, you were scared when he looked at you and scoffed

" And you... what a joke. You believe to be featured with that magicless human will make you special? When you're already special enough?! You're about as oblivious to my feelings as him! "

🐍 Staring at him in shock, you were scared, why was there ink coming out from him?! And why was the rest of the dorm acting so weird?!

🐍 Glaring as your fellow dorm members began to obey as if they were being mind controlled, you looked back at your group, only to realize that they were gone

" Kalim? Azul? Jade, Floyd? Yuu, Grim?! "

🐍 The sounds of cackles erupted from the now dark-lounge, your mind went blank at the sight of your old friend

" You really trust those imbeciles, don't you? Come now, my dear. When will you gain the knowledge that I am all that you need... not those blundering fools. "

🐍 You looked into the red mist, making out a familiar shape, it was Jamil. But, at the same time, it wasn't him...

🐍 He looked so much different, black markings all around his face with a large turban hat, a long dress-like robe that was scattered at the bottom with the hat connecting down into a familiarly-made cape. And his long hair grew out into long black snakes

🐍 Jamil looked horrifying, yet somehow still attractive

🐍 Oh no! Why in the name of the Great Seven were you thinking about that?! The guy literally overblotted in front of you, he's beyond dangerous at the moment

" Well, well, well, you seem to be flustered, dearest. Do you perhaps like this form of me? All ragged and not being held back by a measly rich heir? " " Uhm- "

🐍 You tried to yell out a loud help, but you were only met by the sound of chains wrapping around your wrists and pulling you towards the man you would daydream about being with

🐍 He smirked and grabbed your chin, holding your head to look towards him, amusement was growing in his eyes as you blushed and pulled your face away, you knew you should be feeling disgust, and you wanted too. But... you just couldn't...

" Oh... did you really want a mere servant like what I used to be? You don't want power to be by your side? Here; "

🐍 With those words, Jamil summoned a small crown with red feathers around the bottom and a large red jewel standing in the middle;

" How about you serve alongside me? Like a Sultan and his Sultana? "

🐍 You gritted your teeth, you wanted Jamil, not this freakazoid. He would never try forcing you into this kind of situation!

" Fuck off! I like the Jamil I once knew, not this crazed lunatic! " " A lunatic you say? Why you little- " " Jamil! That is enough! "

🐍 Turning around in shock, that was when you noticed your friends had finally made it back to the dorm. And, in a moment of bravery, you leaped into a backflip that you learned from the former-vice and gritted your teeth as your group ran up to you to help you out of the chains

" If you lay a hand on them, I'll make sure you will never escape that burning desert, you damned pricks! " " Jade, get back into the fight... they need you... " " Y/N, you also need help. " " I will be fine, just go! "

🐍 And with that, the tweel jumped into action alongside his allies while you leaned against a wall and passed out

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩

🐍 The next thing you knew, you had awoken in the medical ward, hearing the low sobs of a male's, you turned around and saw the familiar hairdo of your favorite Scarabia member

" Jamil? "

🐍 He turned around in shock and away in a matter of seconds, he obviously didn't want you to see him in such a week state

" Jamil, just know, I do forgive you. You were under a lot of stress and you just wanted to be yourself for a change. But. "

🐍 Jamil stiffened as he whipped his tears from his eyes, his grey eyes pooling into your (E/C) ones as he cocked an eyebrow, interested in what you had to say

" That doesn't make up for what you did to our dorm. I may forgive you, but you must gain the trust of everyone else once again. I swear I will help you there, though. " " Why? I mean- I tried to force you into a relationship! You shouldn't even try forgiving me! " " Because... I love you. "

🐍 His eyes widened as a small smile emerged on his face while a small blush also appeared

" I love you as well, Rohi... "

#Twisted Wonderland #Twst #Scarabia #Night Raven College #NRC #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #Twst x Reader #Scarabia x Reader #Night Raven College x Reader #NRC x Reader #S/O! Reader #GN! Reader #Jamil Viper #Jamil Viper x Reader

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writingseaslugs · 2 years

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Heartlabyul "Baby Girl"

Did I write these solely because I wanted to be self-indulgent and thought it was funny? The answer is yes.

Disclaimer: All characters in this series is aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please do a quick read of THIS post.

Heartslabyul

Calling Them “Baby Girl”

Riddle Rosehearts

“Hey baby girl, whatcha up to?” You said as you draped your arm around Riddle’s shoulder and looked over at the homework he had in front of him. You felt his entire body stiffen under your touch as his face slowly grew red. You couldn’t help the knowing smirk that fell on your lips as you watched his reaction. You could hear Riddle start to stutter out before his head whipped over to look at you. His entire face and neck were completely red and he looked like he could barely breathe, “Pardon?” He finally managed to ask, a few octaves higher than normal. You had to cover your mouth so you wouldn’t laugh at him. “Oh, did I say something weird, baby girl?” That was the nail in the coffin. Next thing you know, he was shouting, “Off with your head!” There was nothing you could do to stop it. You wore that collar with pride for the entire day, and if anyone asked why Riddle had done that to you despite being magicless…well, it was hard not to break out into giggles.

Trey Clover

“That smells amazing, baby girl, can’t wait to try it.” You said, approaching Trey from behind and wrapping your arms around him. His back became stiff before relaxing once he realized it was you. He let out a sigh before turning and letting you hug him properly, your face buried in his chest. “Mind telling me why you called me that?” Trey asked, and you snickered, looking up at him from his chest. He could see the mischievous look in your eyes as they flickered at him and then at whatever he had in the oven. “Calling you what?” You said, making sure not to become too giggly. Trey just shook his head before pulling you up and giving you a kiss. You smiled into it as he parted, and you stared at him with dreamy eyes.

Cater Diamond

“Hey, take a photo with me!” Cater said as he approached you. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to his chest, your back hitting it. You snickered at his spontaneous need to have more photos. “Anything for you, baby girl.” You said as soon as he took the photo. You could see his eyes widen as he processed what you said, and you knew the photo had that surprised expression on it. His smile widened as he squeezed you tighter to him, bending over and kissing you on your cheek. “You’re just so full of surprises, ain’t ya?” He said, taking another photo of him kissing you with your cheeks colored a deep flush.

Ace Trappola

“Awe, did my baby girl not do well on his test?” You said, leaning over your desk and looking at Ace’s test scores. He paused before whipping his head over at you, his cheeks turning pink at your comment. Seriously? In the middle of class? His face said it all. “Pfft, what did my henchman call you? Ba-“ Before Grim could finish his question, Ace was slamming the poor monster's head down on the desk. Grim cried out from the sudden abuse while you covered your mouth. Ace glared over at you. “Take that back.” He said, and you just shook your head. “Make me.”

Deuce Spade

“Come on, we’re going to be late,” Deuce said, almost whining as you had managed to keep the two of you in bed far longer than he anticipated. He usually wouldn’t have cared since he enjoyed staying over at Ramshackle, especially curled in your bed. Right now, though? There was an important test for the first period, and he really didn’t want to miss it and lose his chance at being a model student. “No, I wanna cuddle longer with my baby girl.” You murmured, dragging him closer to you. His face was in the crook of your neck, and he felt his face flushing bright red. You could even feel it against your skin as he began stuttering out. “I…what?” He said, and before he could say anything else, the door slammed open, and in came Grim. The angry cat monster looked clearly disturbed at the fact that you two weren’t ready meanwhile he was. For a monster who hates class, he sure hates it more when you guys skip, and he still had to attend. You already knew there was no going back to sleep now that Grim was going to grab you two. You couldn’t help but look at Deuce’s still-flushed face and think he looked adorable like that.

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stargirlfics · 1 year

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B U T T E R F L Y

Joel Miller x Black Latina Reader

Summary: Sometimes the path to healing starts with a reminder of what’s been lost

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, death tw, child death tw, some TLOU spoilers but doesn’t follow canon, post-outbreak!Joel, angst, hurt/comfort, trauma and violence mentions, fluff, slow burn vibe, mutual pining

Word Count: 5.6k

My mind has been stuck on the butterfly imagery connecting Sarah and Joel in the show, and in the game too! I grew up hearing from my abuelita that monarch butterflies are symbols of loved ones who’ve passed and I thought that would fit well here! This fic explores grief and pain but also finding hope through it too 🦋

To be soft-hearted at the world’s violent end, that’s where you’d decided to make a home for your heart with all its fragile beating.

Doomed is what they all said you were, surviving the outbreak this long sooner or later came with a price and they had been right, but still, half out of spite, half out of needing something to hang onto, the tenderness of you remained.

Surviving was a miracle and most could go on just grateful to wake up another day, but you’d seen how void life was lived here in the ruins of a former world, and as doomed as it all appeared, you tried your best to find pockets of light where you could, fighting the urge to shut yourself away.

Because maybe one day those pockets of light would be abundant where they were once scarce, maybe one day, if you kept yourself open to it, there would be a sign of a changing tide to let you know you were finally safe.

How strange signs could be, in plain sight but unseen until your brain could catch up with what your soul was feeling, and rarely did they ever come without complexity.

In your case, that complexity came with a stern scowl that belonged to one Joel Miller.

The first whispers you’d ever heard about Joel were that he was grumpy, stubborn, and not the kind of man to be messed with. He was the muscle behind trades done in shadowed alleys here in the QZ, illegal substances, weapons, extra ration cards, you name it.

He was intimidating to most people, even you; having a reputation for being a man of few words and an even shorter fuse would do that but you knew there to be sorrow there too, etched deep in the lines of his face, reflecting like moonlight in his eyes.

You’d never spoken to him, not in all your time in Boston, always seeming to narrowly avoid crossing paths, but you often saw him from afar. In the town square, catching glimpses of him waiting in line to collect a job’s earnings or in the pit, hauling bodies to the acrid cremation pyres smoldering hot throughout the day.

If you thought about it, that’s where you saw the sorrow most.

That old, faded bandana he wore over his nose to block out the stench of burning gave you the clearest view of his eyes; sad, angry orbs fixated on the task like it was penance for him.

All those hushed whispers told you he wasn’t a good man, that he had hurt people to get what he needed, and that wasn’t a surprise, you’d seen it enough to understand the grim nature of the wasteland you were in, how people often turned against each other if they thought it meant they’d live to see another day.

Maybe that understanding was how it happened that day, the first time you’d meet, something in your soul already well tangled with something in his yet neither of you knew it yet.

You’d been expecting someone else at your door that evening, a friend of yours with a bag of good soil snuck in from the outside in exchange for a radio of yours that was in decent shape.

Instead, you were greeted by Joel Miller, bag in hand, a frown already on his face as he explained the switch up, even pointing to a note on the bag in your friend's handwriting to vouch for him.

His voice had caught you off guard, a low, gruff bass in his careful cadence, Texan accent making the words go down smooth.

“Okay, no problem, she did tell me she wasn’t sure if she would really make use of it. You can step in if you want, I’ll just be a second.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have been so trusting.

That’s how people got robbed, taken advantage of, murdered and you weren’t going to get any sympathy from neighbors or any FEDRA soldiers in the area if something were to happen but despite that, and his reputation, you didn’t feel unsafe.

Quite the opposite.

Joel was certainly the grumpy type and you didn’t doubt he was capable of hurting you if he wanted but as you returned with the radio you found him just where you’d left him, his body filling your doorway in a way that reminded you of a guard dog.

Something had caught his eye in the time it had taken you to walk back, gaze fixed somewhere behind you.

It took you a second to realize what exactly he was staring at, eyes tracking him and following until they landed on the butterfly figurine hanging from the makeshift curtains of your kitchen sink window.

Golden hour light warming the window had bathed the glass winged butterfly in its rays, casting fractals of color across the wall and the worn wooden floors.

You studied his face for a moment then, a familiar kind of sadness reaching his eyes, the darkened circles underneath them a little more noticeable now.

You wondered when the last time he got any proper sleep was.

“I made it…” interrupting his thoughts gently you gestured towards the window when he looked at you in question, “La mariposa...took me ages to fit the glass and wire together right but I think it came out ok.”

He grunted in response, finally handing over the bag of soil when you noticed the slightest tremble in his hands.

Oh…so he’d been caught off guard too.

Something about your butterfly had shaken him up and you were curious, who could blame you for being tempted to cross what you were sure he would say was a line, but you pretended not to notice, trying to offer him some privacy, a second to collect himself.

You’d appreciate it if he did the same for you in his place after all.

The exchange was completed swiftly after, a palpable silence settling between you before he was leaving almost as quickly as he arrived, taking the fading summer sunset with him.

–

Joel barely slept that night, woken by nightmares again, a routine he was familiar with, haunted by the same old ghosts but it was different this time, the barbed wire around his heart digging in just a little extra, memories of her surfacing.

Sarah. His Sarah.

He didn’t realize just how long it had been since he was reminded of her this way, of what it felt like to be her father, shutting himself off to that years ago, unable to think about his life with her before because that pain was nearly unbearable.

There is only after, the after in which she doesn’t exist, where he searches for her in his sleep and wakes knowing he won’t find her.

Because he watched her slip away, had pleaded and begged to the skies to bring her back, had held her in his arms, hands stained red with her blood, and had to accept that she was gone and he was granted no time to say goodbye.

Days turned to weeks, months into years and he had learned to operate on a certain level of numbness, just focused on surviving, never getting too attached, acting cold and angry, just a dead man walking.

Until now, his chest nearly caving in with the truth that he was still breathing even after so long spent closed off.

He wasn’t even sure why he’d considered your friend’s offer to complete the exchange at all, he knew he shouldn’t have, the radio you traded wasn’t in as great a shape as he would have liked, he knew that upfront and still begrudgingly agreed, not expecting to feel so exposed, so upended by a simple encounter.

That butterfly shining in the sunlight of your kitchen made his heart stop the second he saw it, flashes of memory surfacing, almost like his little girl was pulled to the surface of his skin again, like if he stepped inside he could reach out and she’d be there.

A dreadful reality had washed that away after a moment, grief swallowing up the hope just as he knew it would, like it always had, but something was undeniably different this time for Joel. A difference that left an ache in his center.

Because for those few fleeting seconds, he had felt alive again.

–

The second time you met Joel was intentional, another bag of soil in exchange for some instant coffee this time.

It was still early morning when he knocked on your door, quiet, hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans and a sleepy kind of softness that you hadn’t seen before around the edges of his eyes which made you wish he didn’t look so inviting then.

It wasn’t so hard to look at him as unapproachable as he made himself seem, he was handsome, the streaks of gray peppered in his hair and along his beard lending to his rugged look.

“About the coffee, it’s not as strong as it could be but it’s the best I’ve got,” you handed over a jar, watching him open the lid and sniff its contents.

“That’ll do just fine.”

Relief arrived at his approval, you gathered it’d been a while since he had any and you were glad your stash wasn’t a disappointment.

You watched as he knelt down to set his backpack on the floor, stowing the jar inside and handing you the bag of fertilizer mix you had inquired about.

It wasn’t long now before he’d be out the door again, these things were best kept short and simple but as you thanked him for the exchange and moved to store the bag with your other garden supplies, you noticed a moment of reluctance.

Joel didn’t plan on lingering around now that you both had what you came for but then he was reminded of what he felt the last time he’d been in your space and his mouth was moving with the thoughts that were swimming in his head before he could bite back the words.

“That’s a good amount of soil you have, got some sorta secret garden FEDRA don’t know about?”

Suddenly you felt very silly for wanting to smile at his curiosity but also recognized the significance of him asking.

“Something like that, yeah. I…actually found a spot of flowers growing through one of the QZ fences and I’ve been tending to it. It's no garden but the flowers are in bloom now, first time I’ve seen real butterflies in years.”

You watched him perk up at the mention of real butterflies, furrowed brows hiding the flicker of emotion mere seconds later but it was too late, you’d seen it already.

Up until now, your little patch of greenery had been a private endeavor.

Something for you to put some love and effort in, and just a quiet, secluded place to be, to clear your head or be alone for a while, away from some of the chaos in the streets, and yet here you were, now, carefully asking him if he’d like to see it too.

You thought just maybe, bringing him there would do him as much good as it had done you.

And it’s there, in that moment when he says yes that you see all that hard exterior start to slip just an inch.

It’s an inch you can work with.

–

Early morning dew still clings to the soft blades of grass sprouting up near the fence line, the section where you’d been taking care of the vegetation noticeably more vibrant with color and growth.

Slowly, you’d been replacing the dirt, had saved as many roots and sprouts as possible, taking care in replanting them, and from there, a shabby little makeshift garden bed had formed.

This would be your third week caring for it and now Joel was trailing behind your steps to see it too.

His body language was tense like he couldn’t quite be sure you weren’t actually taking him to some secluded corner to ambush him, but you get it.

Being wary was smart, but you couldn’t lie that it was satisfying to let him take it in without explaining anything first, the tension in his shoulders easing, sagging when his eyes fell upon the dusky blue flowers and rich green leaves and vines growing up from the ground, searching for the sun’s nourishment.

Joel couldn’t be certain whether it was the day’s first tendrils of summer heat making him feel warm or the fluttering orange and speckled black wings of a butterfly nestled atop a marigold.

He glances at his wrist, at the memento that never leaves his side, a broken watch, and there’s a moment of clarity in the silence where Joel can feel it, all the shattered parts of him spilling out, and there isn’t any way he can catch it all, he’s already too late and he knows it.

Panic works its way into his bloodstream, causing his hands to shake, not used to being so disarmed, so flayed open.

His fingers curl into a fist, trying to steady himself, needing a moment to catch his breath, to process.

And there you were, your gentle voice cutting through the noise in his head and that tidal wave of emotion.

“They’re monarch butterflies, which means they’re special,” you’ve moved a little closer now, watching another one land next to its friend on the flower.

“What makes' em’ so special?” Joel takes a deep breath and you do too.

You thought for a second he might shut down and walk away, there wasn’t anything keeping him here after all, he had the coffee he came for and yet still took you up on your offer. That in itself was difficult not to attach yourself to immediately but there was no denying it felt good to know you’d earned maybe an ounce of his trust.

“In Mexico, my abuela used to say they were a sign of the dead coming to visit the living, loved ones, our ancestors, the monarchs carry their souls to us. I think they’re good luck too.”

The smile working its way onto your lips is fond, sad, one you knew he’d recognize, the silent but shared knowledge of loss was a heavy burden to carry. There was no mistake about it, but being here, amongst your flowers and your butterflies made it easier.

Orange and gold halos shimmered around the plant life softly swaying with the wind, your own features now warmed with the climbing sun, brown skin shining deeper under the light.

Joel was looking at you now, following your words. The meaning of what you were both looking upon hitting him square in the chest when that feeling blooms behind his eyes again, that itch of something alive, something beautiful growing again amongst concrete ruins.

And it's there, standing next to you, watching you water the soil while butterflies float around you that he works out what that feeling must be.

Salvation.

–

After that morning, trading goods with Joel became a regular occurrence.

Soil for another stash of coffee or a packet of seeds for a hunting knife in need of experienced hands, neither of you quite sure how it happened but eventually the trades became more like friendly favors to each other than practical transactions.

Your ‘garden’ also became a frequent place for you both to go, so much so that on any given day you could bet he was there, a quick stop on his way back home, or in the morning before the day started, it became an unspoken shared refuge.

Joel helped you fix up the makeshift garden beds when it became clear your tender care of the plants called for an upgrade and you were grateful for it, dismissive at first, not wanting him to feel obligated.

You could handle yourself around a hammer and a few nails but he insisted and you relented, the two of you knelt under the setting sun, working on the task together.

It didn’t matter that it was closing in on curfew time, or that you didn’t really have anything to compensate him for his time because, the moment itself, the small inklings of trust building between you were actually far better.

That’s when you started to see him nearly every day, sitting against bomb-scarred concrete, always facing those marigolds, the ones the monarch butterflies you’d told him about always flocked to.

At first you kept your distance, knowing better than to pry.

It was clear he’d been through a lot, most his age-if you were guessing correctly-had, old enough to have lived a good portion of their lives before the outbreak, the last witnesses of an old world. You wanted to respect that and as long as he was finding some sort of peace here, you were content.

You didn’t mind his company either, he wasn’t much of a talker, but his presence was comforting and familiar and you felt safe with him near.

Eventually though, keeping him at a distance became impossible, both of you stumbling through the uncertainty of what to say to each other yet not giving up on trying at the same time.

And Joel had resisted too, had tried to keep his words short, always residing somewhere in between neutral and aloof but the more he watched you in your element, amongst the seedling sprouts and vines and moss, the more it made him want to talk.

It was easy to find his voice around you.

You were soft-hearted, he could see that and it wasn’t easy to get used to the way you looked at him, like you cared, like you understood something about his brokenness right away, had let him sit here day after day watching the butterflies because somehow you knew it’s what he needed, but he didn’t mind the learning curve either.

His usual annoyance and reluctance to speak about feelings couldn’t keep up this time surrounded by reminders of Sarah, coaxing the small part of him that hadn’t died with her out of its state of numbness, softening him again.

‘You were never gonna do it for yourself’ rings in his ears.

He’d never been much good at that, doing things for himself, and Sarah was always so clever about calling it out, even now, nudging him awake again after all these years.

It’s why he decides to tell you when you ask one day, sitting next to him on sun-warmed stone.

He merely came by to sit for a little while and clear his head and found you already sat in his usual spot, butterfly watching, your eyes telling your secret, that you had been crying before he arrived, his first instinct carrying him forward, to your side.

He offered you some water, even sliced an apple in half to share with you, pleased with himself when he got a smile out of the gesture but remained as quiet as you were, wanting you to feel like you could just be.

“Who do they remind you of?” your voice was small, unsure of how he’d react to the question, overexplaining in hopes it would make him recoil less, “It’s okay if you can’t talk about it, I understand. It’s just that…what I told you about the monarch butterflies, I really do believe in it you know, the people I’ve lost…they feel so close to the surface, like they’re watching over me and I think you feel the same.”

Joel nods after a moment and you’re exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

It takes him a moment but he finds the words.

“My daughter…her name was Sarah. They were her favorite, actually, since she was bout old enough to talk. I used to call her my little butterfly when she was a baby which, yeah, got real old when she started middle school but I liked to remind her anyways, just to see her roll her eyes at me. Just as long as she knew I loved her, you know, that I never stopped, not since the moment I held her in my hands for the first time.”

It broke your heart to hear.

And it hurt him too, to speak about her and then remember that he had lost her, that twenty years had passed and he couldn’t remember what she smelled like anymore, and he hated the nightmares but without them, he was afraid of forgetting her face, her eyes, the coils of her hair, the sound of her voice calling out to him.

It was only now that he was seeing how deep he’d pushed it all down, bottled up tight out of fear, and then somehow you’d entered his life, Molotov aimed straight at his heart, stunning him into remembering her the way she deserved to be.

“I’m so sorry,” you extend all the comfort you can, knowing there weren’t any words that would ever make it right but you wanted to try anyway.

“Yeah, me too. But you’re right, she feels close, and I know you’ve put it together by now but it’s why I’ve been sittin here every day, I see those butterflies and I see her, I remember her and it feels...good. I didn’t want it to; don’t really trust things that feel good but it does and I wanna thank you for that, for letting me have that.”

He worries he’s said too much, or said the wrong thing, wanting to kick himself because he was never much good at words either but the sight of your lips pulling up into a small smile came as a relief.

“She’s with you, Joel. And there’s no need to thank me, it’s been good for me too, doing all this. I think it helps.”

He nods again, agreeing before asking you the same question, extending an opportunity to open up too; a big step when keeping personal histories to a minimum was the lay of the land around here.

And it wasn’t easy, to talk about the things that hurt, baring your grief to Joel, and trusting him with it but you did and he had held it so gently, understanding it for what it was.

Looking back you think maybe it’s there that things started to change, where your life and his started to merge.

Sometime after that conversation you gifted him one of those glass winged butterflies like the one in your window, showing it to him one evening in the garden, earning you the first real smile you’d ever seen from him.

It was after he told you more about himself, about Sarah, his brother Tommy, recounting happy memories; like the time he and Tommy surprised Sarah with her own soccer ball for her birthday one year, how he’d caved almost immediately the time she begged him to get her a polaroid camera, and you shared too, thinking on good times you’d had with the people in your life.

It meant a lot to Joel that you spent time crafting the ornament, knowing just how deep the symbolism of it went for him.

You were always doing that, looking out for him, planting tiny seed after tiny seed, slowly working your magic on him, ensnaring him deep, making him want to look out for you too.

Under the fading sun again you sat with him, watching the marigolds, the calm, slow fluttering of wings, and it’s in that same spot that you find your hand in his for the first time.

No words needed to be said, this was far better.

A little while later you saw your gift hanging from the window in his living room, right next to the radio you had first traded him for.

The two of you had found yourselves escaping the heat here after some time tending the garden together, pulling weeds, clearing new soil of rocks and rubble, now sharing his couch, a rusty old fan that still somehow worked cooling the sweat prickling the back of your neck.

Curfew hour was nearing and you knew you would have to start making your way back home but Joel warned that he’d heard from a FEDRA officer he did trades with that they were patrolling the streets early the next few nights.

You knew why, it was hard to forget the hail of gunfire last night, a group of Fireflies going after a group of officers on patrol, a fight that neither one had won.

Tensions in the QZ had been high all day since then and Joel suggested that you stay here with him for the night, saying he didn’t want you dealing with anything that might be going on out there.

He was being protective, a disapproving frown on that handsome face of his when you told him you didn’t want to intrude on his space but he was right, things had already started looking a little dangerous on your way back from the garden and you appreciated that he was trying to keep you safe.

So you stayed.

Curled up on Joel’s old, worn couch with a blanket that smelled like him tucked around you, the white noise of the fan still blowing and the knowledge that he wasn’t far, just in the next room over, carried you off to sleep.

–

One night had turned into two and then three and somewhere in the last couple months of summer that were left, you spent most of your days and nights with Joel.

No label had been applied to whatever your situation was with him, you knew better than to ask, this all needed time, and you were okay with that, just content on holding onto this good thing with him.

Because you liked being around, like sharing a space with him and sitting in the garden together, opening up to each other more and more every day.

It was nice watching Joel come out of that hardened shell of his, watching him find it easier to talk about things, noticing him trying to live life more, not as reluctant to connect.

Things were good, not to say that there hadn’t been bad days amongst all the progress made, there were plenty of them in fact.

Days where old patterns became default again, stretches of nights where the nightmares returned, both of you trying to wade through it.

When the aching of old wounds came knocking and the walls came back up again.

You hated to fight with Joel when that happened, and you hated not being on the same page but he was so stubborn it wasn’t always easy to bite back your frustration.

He had told you about his past, about the people he hurt in those early days and it’s something he wrestled with, believing in the goodness you saw inside him when all he could see were the bad things.

It frustrated you sometimes, how he preferred to shut himself off, to you, to Sarah’s memory because he felt like his hands were too dirty, too blood-stained to even try.

“Que, no entendes?! Please, Joel! Stop trying to be something you aren’t. You think you aren’t a good man but bad people don’t get upset about being bad. Do you think you can just turn it off, the part of you that was always a good man, a good father? Well sorry, but you can’t, that’s who you are to your core, I saw it the first moment I met you and every time since then.”

“I’ve killed people,” his tone was mean, and venomous, another attempt at pushing you away. “Goddamnit, it’s not as simple as-”

“I get that! Look I know that you’ve done bad things but you’ve also spent every waking moment punishing yourself for it, do you realize that? All these years you’ve been paying your penance any way you can and I’m trying to tell you it’s okay live well, that you don’t have to torture yourself anymore because we have to try and make something out of all this pain.”

It wasn’t easy to get him to see what you saw but you didn’t back down, even when it would have been easy to, Joel knew it too, guilt washing over him as you looked at him then, tears brimming in your eyes.

“You’ve endured enough.”

It’s those final three words from you that makes him ease up, a reminder you nudged him with often, that he could rest already, could make amends by making a choice to find the light.

He lets you take some space from him, coming to find you before bed because he doesn’t want to fall asleep without fixing things.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair, talkin to you like that. You’re just tryna help my sorry ass and I haven’t thanked you enough. I’m gonna get better at that.”

It’s the first time you ever hug him, noticing the tremble in his hands as he says the words, feeling the sincerity in his voice, unable to stop yourself from all but barreling into his arms.

He’s still for only a moment before his arms wrap around you in return, the two of you bathed in moonlight, that butterfly still hanging in his window, pushing you towards each other again just like it had when you first met.

–

Eventually, the day comes when the monarchs leave, the approaching fall and winter seasons carrying them to warmer places, a solemn change in what had been yours and Joel’s routine.

The absence of the butterflies that had provided so much hope the last few months was felt, but the world was also a lot more open and wide now too.

You no longer slept on Joel’s couch, you slept pressed against him now, and woke with your limbs tangled with his, a quiet partnership forming.

It scares both of you, knowing that you had grown to care for each other so quickly, knowing that was dangerous and reckless but also feeling stronger because you were a team.

You think that’s why you make the decision together, one rainy fall evening when Joel comes home with a message from Tommy.

They had gone through a rough patch recently, being apart from each other for some time and still not seeing eye to eye on Tommy’s choices but slowly, they’d started talking again and there was news that Tommy and the group he was with had gotten a hydroelectric plant that had once belonged to FEDRA up and running.

There was electricity and a place to stay if you and Joel were interested, plus Tommy wanted you to meet Maria, said she did him a whole world of good and this was some of that good in action.

It hadn’t been a hard choice to make even knowing how difficult the journey would be.

This was the chance you’d both been waiting for, and had talked about, a far off dream of running away from all the violence that was inescapable here in Boston, searching for something better out there, and now it was within reach.

So you’d left your garden in the care of a friend you knew would understand its importance, and you bide your time with Joel, making deals, doing jobs, collecting and saving up supplies, and helping him map the way to Jackson.

And then the day came when you left the QZ behind for good, watching the city fade away in the rearview mirror.

Making it to Tommy hadn’t been easy, there had been one too many close calls for comfort but the trust you and Joel had in each other didn’t waver, and here you were, finally on the other side.

Settling in hadn’t been the easiest, especially for Joel, his guard still up but little by little, you both sank into a new way of life.

You quickly learned how to ride a horse and hunt in the woods surrounding the power plant, even making friends with some of the families in the community.

Joel had taken to things a little slower, but even he couldn’t hide for long, helping some of the men in the group with repairs on things that needed fixing, even cautiously attempting to make friends with you.

Small pockets of peace started to open up the longer you stayed and the threat of raiders loomed over that peace at times, keeping everyone on alert for attacks but you all had Joel and Tommy now, always amongst the first to be out there protecting, defending fiercely.

You knew they wouldn’t let anything happen to you here.

As spring arrived again you found a nice spot for a garden, pointing out sprouting flower buds to Joel one day, almost missing the fond smile forming on his lips, both of you knowing what this meant.

You were happy here, and happy being with Joel, the two of you building a new garden together this time, until finally, as the chill spring breeze transitioned into summer heat and sunshine you were sat next to him like you had been what seemed like ages ago, watching the butterflies circle the flowers in bloom in what had become Sarah’s Garden.

Joel made you a promise; to keep going for family, the family you, him, and Tommy were now. And you promised the same, not scared of how much you cared for the man by your side anymore.

It wasn’t perfect, the world was still rotten and the broken parts of you all were still raw, still healing, but this time her light was guiding the way through it and that made it all worth it.

---

A/N: When I saw that butterfly hanging in the window of his place in Boston I just couldn’t resist writing something about how he got it and here we are! This world is so dark and tragic and while this fic doesn’t change those facts, I hope it plants some gentle, hopeful little seeds of healing, because Joel deserves that and so do you as the reader! thank you for reading this, I’d love to hear your thoughts on it! 💌

some tags no pressure! @inklore @allaboardthereadingrailroad @yelenas-lova @ozarkthedog @amethystwonders11 @blkmorticia @moreofem @eupheme @obiknights @tarrenterror25 @superhoeva @buckyhoney @plumbits

#amalia writes #joel miller x reader #joel miller x black!reader #joel miller x woc #joel miller x black reader #joel miller x latina reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x black latina reader #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction

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famoulouswrites · 25 days

Text

~Nightmares~

Ace x Y/N

(She/her pronouns used)

(Overblot spoilers)

(Y/N low key has PTSD)

(Not proofread.)

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧

The overblots were horrible.

The room around growing black, the walls and plants cracked or decaying, the very emotion of the victim distorting everything around them.

Were they even victims? Y/N believed so, but her nightmares painted them in their worst light.

One night, after the first overblot, Y/N dreamt that she ran into the gardens maze, only to be chased by the sounds of yelling and a rose bush hitting the walls.

The next nightmare was even more intense, Y/N stuck alone with Leona, dust clouding the sight of her friends, the threat of being turned to sand closer and closer.

The next one? Hiding bellow a table in the monstro lounge as the sound of foot...or the merman equivalent of foot steps on the tile came closer.

Another? Trapped in golden chains, surrounded by what should have been a joyous party, destroyed by the new head of Sacrabia.

Trapped under fallen debree of the festival,

Surrounded by sobbs and an endless number of stairs,

With each overblot the nightmares grew more and more unbearable.

And Y/N was at her breaking point.

Each night she had these nightmares, along with the normal nightmares presented in the mirror....were those even nightmares if she wasn't asleep?

It didn't matter.

Tonight's was the worst of all of them.

In every dream nobody ever touched her, the threat was present but never actully harming her, until tonight.

Grimm....or somthing that looked like Grimm, scratching her, hitting her wih his claws in an aggressie manner, nobody was the there to help, she screamed for Ace, for Deuce, Jack, Epel, Kalim, anyone! Even for Grim to return to his senses! Nobody came.

In one last pounce from Grimm, she woke up.

Breathing heavily she looked up at her ceiling.

She couldn't do this anymore, why was she always in the middle of overblots? Why was Crowly so irresponsible that he let so many happen in the first place?

It wasn't fair!

Y/N sat up, crying to the point she could hardly breathe. She was convinced that if she had magic, she'd be very close to overblotting herself at that point.

The small knock on her door almost went unheard, until it became more fantic.

Getting out of bed and walking down the stairs of Ramshackle, she could finally hear a scared voice pleading for help.

"Perfect wake up! Riddles on my case again, you gotta let me in till Trey calms him down! Perfect? Perfect!!!"

Oh...it was Ace.

Again.

She walked to the door, and opened it already stepping out of the way for when Ace would come plowing in.

She'd been though this a quite few times before.

Ace was lucky this time, she saw, as he wasn't collared yet. Unlike a majority of times he came bolting into her dorm.

"Oof, Riddles really ticked this time. I swear I thought I locked the door to the flamingos!" He started to rant, walking around the main living room, as he tried to prove his innocence to her, before finally looking back up to Y/N.

"Y/N....you look like crap."

"Wow thanks."

Y/N sighed as she sat down on the couch.

At least her couch was nice and cozy, it made the situation a little better.

It was true what he had said, she did look like crap.

Her hair was all messed up, tears were going down her face still and she was soaked in sweat.

For once Ace looked more orderly than her.

"You....you need to talk about somthin'?" He offered, sitting next to her on the couch.

"I don't know, it was just a nightmare." She said, brushing off the offer.

"Hey! That's serious!" Ace argued "Whenever I'd have a nightmare back home my bro would sit with me and listen to it! Doesn't matter how old I get!" Ace said. "So talk! ...if you want."

Y/N sighed, and started from the beginning, recounting every nightmare she'd had after coming to Night Raven Collage, all the way up to her latest one.

"Dang...." Ace said, shaking his head. "And I thought my nightmare about my pants falling down was bad...."

"Look," he said with a soft sigh "I'm not gonna say you shouldn't worry about those cuz, let's be honest, I think overblots happen here more than anywhere else......this school really needs better therapists, but! You know that you'll always have help!" Ace smiled softly as he sat at the edge of the couch.

"Like-like with Riddles! You had me, Deuce, Trey and Cater! With Leonas you had me, Deuce, Riddle, Jack and I kinda guess Ruggie...does he even count? He did hardly anyth- ok I'm getting off track! Point is, you'll always have help! Ok? You're never going to have to handle one on your own, ok?"

Y/N listened, knowing he was probly right but...she was still scared. "I know in real life I have you guys, but what about in my dreams? I know they're not real but it makes it so hard to sleep..." She sighed.

"Well...um..." Ace thought for a moment "I'll sleep with you tonight! And if any nightmares come, I'll just shoo them away!" He laughed. "That's what my brother used to do for me!"

Yuu smiled. "Thanks....I'd like that!"

Of course, as always, nightmares came as always.

Another one about Leona.

She was back on the playing field, surrounded by sand, she couldn't see anything but the yellow clouds...but this time, she heard a voice calling out for her.

"Y/N! Y/N over here! I've got ya!"

#ace trappola #ace trapolla x yuu #ace trapolla x reader #ace x reader #ace x y/n #ace x yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twist x reader #disney x reader #twist wonderland x reader

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boneblushed · 10 months

Text

Mine (Taylor’s Version)

short n sweet + unedited xo Ri

“You’re lucky we weren’t together when Red Taylor’s Version came out,” you muse, your pretty eyes alight with mischief.

“Because you’d have asked me to fake break-up with you?” Rafe asks, though he knows the answer to his question already. He snakes his arm around your waist and hands you the purple concoction he’s created — expensive Prosecco with just enough soda water to fizz, an amaranth liqueur making it taste like candied grapes. You take a generous pull, feeling his hand slide up and cup the side of your jaw.

When he turns your head to his, it’s mostly for selfish reasons. He ducks down and gives you a slow kiss, his wet tongue pressing over yours steadily. “You’re right,” he breathes out, breaking away for just a moment. “Although, I was already prettily heavily in love with you by then.”

“It was two years ago,” you huff, as if that explains it.

Rafe raises his eyebrows. “And?”

You balk. “C’mon. You’re fucking with me, right?”

“You think it was a coincidence that I posted All Too Well ten minute version on my Instagram story the day it came out?” Rafe asks then, somewhere between amused and exasperated.

“I thought you liked Taylor Swift,” you reply, a little indignant.

“Oh yeah, love her,” Rafe nods, faux-solemn. “Especially Shake It Off. Love Story, too. Great songs, really…”

You roll your eyes and make to break away from his embrace, “If this is your way of telling me you aren’t going to listen to Speak Now Taylor’s version with me —”

“The opposite, actually,” Rafe interrupts, only tightening his hold in response. He ducks his head again and sponges a kiss to your neck, another to your jaw, a few more to your cheeks and nose, just enough to have you giggling and gasping for breath. “You know how whipped I have to be to cancel my Friday plans to listen to music I don’t like with you?”

“You like Taylor Swift,” you command, your soft voice still a little breathy.

“I like you,” Rafe corrects, angling away a little. “Love you, actually. Would do anything for you. Even,” he gestures around his living room meaningfully, decked out in Speak Now memorabilia and speakers galore, “have a 2-person Speak Now party with you, apparently.”

You grin up at him, fond and amused. “Simp.”

“Tell anyone,” he ducks his head to your earlobe, his rough voice raising goosebumps over the skin of your neck, “and you’re dead.”

“Oooh, I’m so scared,” you tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek, the stubble rough on your lips.

“You should be,” Rafe replies, faux-serious.

“What’re you going to do, Cameron? Put me on your Instagram story with Mine playing in the background?”

Rafe doesn’t sound as grim as he probably wants to when he replies, “You know I did that as soon as we listened to it.”

“Simp.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rafe replies, nudging your drink with his own purposefully. “We going to keep going, or what?”

You fix him with a serious look. “You know once we’re done we’re just going to go back and reply, right?”

“I grew up with two younger sisters, baby,” Rafe replies, his handsome face full of mirth. “I know exactly how this goes.”

“Not to mention, you’re a swiftie.”

Rafe eyes widen, and he looks around mock surreptitiously. “Christ, sweetheart,” he hisses, feigning indignation. “Keep your voice down. I’ve got a fucking reputation to uphold, yeah?”

“Oh yeah?” You waggle your eyebrows, placing both of your drinks onto the counter to free your hands. As you pull him against you, your arms around his neck, his automatically encircling your waist, and you add, “I remember how it felt sitting by the water…”

“…and everytime I look at you, it’s like the first time,” Rafe murmurs back, any amusement fading away as his blue eyes deepen, his strong figure pressing you close.

“I fell in love with a careless man’s careful daughter…”

“She is the best thing, that’s ever been mine,” Rafe finishes, and then he pauses, his gaze ablaze with pulse-jolting conviction. “Although…”

“Although,” you repeat, voice weak.

“Enchanted’s a bit more our song, don’t you reckon?”

You crinkle your nose up at him, his words making your heart feel too large for your ribcage. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” he nods, ducks his head again. “Freshman year: please don’t be in love with someone else; sophomore year: please don’t have somebody waiting on you; junior year —”

Your eyes widen. “That long?”

“Longer,” Rafe admits. Another pause. “I was enchanted to meet you, you know.”

You can’t help it. A peal of laughter escapes your lips, the sweetest sound Rafe has heard in a while. It’s just — this guy, six-foot-two with a football scholarship and shotgunning record, is quoting Taylor Swift lyrics to you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“If your team could see you now,” you tease, still swaying against him.

“They’d say,” he leans down, kisses you hard, “that I’m,” again, “the luckiest motherfucker on Figure Eight.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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krypticcafe · 1 year

Text

Happy Super Late Valentines </3

rating: PG-13/teen

pairing: harry warden/the miner x gn!reader

warning(s): reader had a boyfriend, brief mention of cheating, small mentions of blood, violence, and gore, and harry being scary, for j u s t a bit.

synopsis: you had a shitty valentines day, and harry comes to pick up the leftovers.

a/n: okay, I haven't written fanfic in years, so please excuse me if this comes off as an uber corny dumpster fire. I'm just trying to have fun :'))))

So what if it's Valentine's Day?

So what if you wanted to spend a peaceful time with your boyfriend at home with some baked cookies?

So what if you accidentally burnt those cookies?

So what if you were so paranoid that it felt like someone was watching you the entire time?

So what if your boyfriend pushed asked you to go with him and his friends in some spooky abandoned mineshaft?

So what if you were surrounded by couples making out in a cramped, dark, and cold nooks and crannies and one of them happened to be your best friend and your now ex-boyfriend?

So what if you lashed out, dumped him, stormed out of the cave only to get more lost due to the heat of your anger?

It's fine. It's whatever. Could be worse.

Or at least that's what you told yourself to cope with the shredding of your heart and the burning tears.

Oooooh, but that bastard! The audacity to cheat on you, with her of all people! And he was such an idiot to do so after inviting you to come! Did he not think for a fraction of a second that he'd get caught? Or did all the blood in his brain just go to his dic-

God, what were you thinking, coming here with those guys, giving him the time of day?

Looking back on things, you realized you dodged not a bullet, but a whole missile. But did it reslly have to be on Valentines Day of all days? The world really is just that cruel.

And it was about to get even more cruel.

Screams, maybe half a dozen of them, echoed and bounced off the walls of the cave, finding their way to you. At first, you assumed the group was messing with each other. Either way, you could care less.

Then they started growing more frequent and louder, and you scowled.

'In here after that fiasco? Really? Christ, I'm never going out with any of them ever aga-'

Then you heard a blood-curdling scream. Suddenly, you started to prefer the possibility of what you originally thought they were doing.

Your head whipped to the tunnel left of you as you heard a scream far too familiar, and your body began to curl in on itself as you sat in a ball in the corner.

Footsteps began beating from the same corridor where the scream originated.

Anticipating the worst, you wiped the blur from your eyes, took a deep breath, and braced your hand over a nearby stone that you deemed good enough to buy you some time.

The footsteps grew louder, but remained at a painstakingly steady pace, as if to tease your demise. There was a loud thunk! before the screech of metal scraping rock pierced your ears. You were half expecting to see the grim reaper at this point.

Instead, you were greeted with someone else who might as well be the same person. They were tall, broad, and clad in nothing but a full set of miner's gear. Not a single speck of skin peeked past any part of their clothing, and their mask even managed to hide their eyes behind the dark lens. With what little brightness there was provided by the dim cave lights, you just barely noticed the glistening of the blood on their uniform and the way it dripped down the tip of their pickaxe.

You recognized him as the man from the town's local urban legend. It always seemed cheesy and way too cliche to you but here you were, face to face with the man, the myth himself. Would he make you another one of his victims tonight? Would your death become just another story told at the campfire? The thought made your stomach turn.

The two of you stayed in silence, your hand still gripping the stone while you stared at the miner, searching for any movement that suggesting that you'd be the next one to eat metal. But all you could see was the way his chest heaved, rising and falling from what you understood as the cause of all those screams from earlier.

Drip.

Clank!

To your surprise, he set down his pickaxe and approached you, kneeling down to your curled form. His head tilted slightly, as if to get a better look at you. A part of you wished you could see his eyes, wondered where he stared, why he stared. As embarrassing as it is to admit, you froze like a deer in headlights, squeezing your eyes shut when he lifted a hand and-

... wiped a tear on your cheek.

You didn't even remember the stone until he pried it from your hand and interlaced your fingers with his, pulling you up with him and into his embrace as he lightly petted your head.

Was he... comforting you?

It would've worked well if uh, he didn't reek of blood and dust.

Staying still as if your life depended on it (it probably did), you let him do as he pleased.

He pulled away from you but kept a gentle grip on your hand, nodding his head in the direction of the tunnels. You couldn't be bothered to question anything anymore, shock was the only thing that kept the fatigue from catching up.

He led you down countless tunnels and caverns, passing by bodies mangled beyond recognition, except for one. You were pretty sure that one was the cretin.

The entire time, the hold his hand had on yours was nothing short of soft and comforting, it almost warmed your heart. Almost.

Eventually, you found where he was taking you, back to the entrance of the mineshaft. He let go of your hand and urged you to the opening. Hesitantly stepping forward, you paused and looked back. He still stood there, though less menacing than he was before despite all the blood and dirt caked on him.

"I- uh... thank you."

Your voice was shaky from processing the events of the past few hours and you had no requirement to thank him, but you felt like you'd regret it if you didn't. The sentiment came across, and he nodded, reaching up again to trace a thumb on your cheek before giving it an affectionate pinch. You watched as he turned and left back into the abyss of the mines, disappearing into the cavern.

It was still dark outside, but you knew the way back from here. You were no longer shaking, nor seething, and the walk back home was oddly peaceful for it being so late in the night.

So what if you might want to see him again?

Bonus

The next morning, you woke up with your eyes feeling raw and your feet sore, but work calls and you had to get up nonetheless.

Nursing a cup of coffee, you checked your door for any mail, instead finding a bright red, heart-shaped box at your doorstep. Fortunately, it didn't contain any beating human heart as the urban legends told, but interestingly enough, a single wild rose and a card.

"Happy Valentines, won't you be mine? - Harry"

#x reader #harry warden #harry warden x reader #my bloody valentine #harry warden x you #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #slashers

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wolken-himmel · 2 years

Text

In which Riddle intends to lecture (Y/n), who has slacked off on a recent test— only to find out that the prefect suffers from ADHD.

Now he's determined to help with tutoring sessions.

Request by @princess-kaylia-blog.

"You can't be serious, Ace. Tell me this is a joke. Zero points on the last alchemy test?"

Riddle looked like he was about to explode with how red his face had gotten. His grip around the tea cup in his hands tightened considerably, to the point where Ace and Deuce feared he would snap the handle right off. Luckily, Riddle caught his cool again soon, allowing the first-years fo exhale in relief.

"Yeah," Ace confirmed sheepishly, "(Y/n)'s grade kinda got a worse recently, and they've never been good in the first place."

"I never expected that from the Prefect of Ramshackle! I cannot tolerate such laziness... Hard work and concentration are the key to a bright future, and slacking off now will ruin that."

Deuce let out an absent-minded hum. "Now that you say it, (Y/n) tends to really procrastinate on everything..." he muttered under his breath, deep in thought. "Even worse than Ace..."

That, in return, drew an offended gasp from his fellow first-year, who jumped to his feet and glared down at his friend. "Hey! I don't procrastinate... often," Ace exclaimed angrily, only for his fury to morph into sheepishness when Riddle shot him a reprimanding glare. Ace merely crossed his arms and looked at the other two intently. "Besides, did you not know that (Y/n) has ADHD?"

"...I did not." The dormleader's eyes grew wide in realisation.

Deuce raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What's that?"

"A disorder that makes it hard to focus and work for a long time," Ace explained while sitting down again. "I looked it up on my phone while I was doing my homework earlier." A mischievous grin appeared on his face.

For a while, Riddle was left speechless. A sudden feeling of guilt pooled in his stomach, and he began to regret all the awful things he had said about you earlier. Perhaps he had judged you wrongly. The frustration he had felt towards you earlier morphed into something akin to determination. "I guess I will have to change my entire tutoring system now when it comes to the prefect..."

A shiver ran down Ace's back. "Ugh, don't kill the prefect with your tutoring sessions, dormleader."

"You do not seem to value your head nowadays, Trappola. Shall it be off with your head, then?"

"N-No! I meant good luck, sir—"

°°°

A few days later, Riddle indeed sat in your dusty room within the Ramshackle mansion, ready for the tutoring session to begin. Yet, you only reciprocated the determined look on his face with a reluctant frown. He watched you fiddle with your pen for a while, only for you to unexpectedly raise your gaze and furrow your eyebrows at him.

"I don't know why you insist on helping me, Riddle. Don't get me wrong, I really appreciate it— but I don't think it will help me."

"(Y/n), listen to me. I've dealt with worse, but look at Heartslabyul now! Nobody has dropped out or been held back ever since I became dormleader," Riddle exclaimed and plopped himself into the creaky chair next to yours, a passionate look in his grey eyes. "I do not wish to appear arrogant, but I do believe that we can cooperate and improve your grades slowly over time. I certainly cannot cure you of your ADHD, but I do plan on helping you improve working and studying with it—"

His monologue was interrupted by the door to your room being thrown open, thus colliding with the wall loudly. You two snapped around to find a familiar cat monster striding inside like he owned the place. "Oi, henchhuman!" Grim yelled out and held a bowl with popcorn out to you. "You wanna watch this cool movie with me? Ditch our lame homework and let's go—"

"Not today, fiend," Riddle grumbled under his breath while turning Grim around and promptly shooing him out of the room.

You watched with furrowed eyebrows as the door was slammed right into his face, the cat now left to protest outside. Soon, your cat companion let you be and wandered away, and Riddle returned to your side.

"Hey, I really wanted to watch a movie right now..."

A disapproving sigh escaped his lips. "No wonder you can't get anything done with such an environment..." There was no apprehension in his tone.

"Yeah... I'm easily distracted. It's a struggle to sit still and read through these heavy textbooks, especially when there's all kinds of ruckus going on around me."

He hummed thoughtfully. "I see. But now that we've eliminated some of these distractions, let's declutter your desk, alright? And then we can make a to-do list to organise your work a little bit better. That will be our first step before we get into studying," he explained and clapped his hands together. "And this might sound like a lot, but we don't have to get everything done today. It's alright if we go forward in small steps... Small steps are better than no steps at all— and much better than steps backwards."

At first, you could only stare at him with wide eyes, and your lack of reaction left him confused and embarrassed. Yet, it all came crashing down tenfold when you snapped out of it and leapt forward to wrap your arms around him gratefully. "...Thank you, Riddle. I really appreciate this..." you murmured into his shoulder, unable to prevent a smile from forming on your lips.

Fumbling on his words, Riddle struggled to keep his face from heating up. "N-No problem."

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #reader insert #y/n #disney twst #twst x you #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst riddle rosehearts #twst riddle x reader #twst riddle #twisted wonderland riddle #gender neutral reader

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juppl · 5 months

Text

TWST Silver x reader Hcs

Okay okay it’s been stuck in my head and I really need to just write it out or else my head will fucking implode because I love this beautiful boy wayyyyy too much. Like I imagine a cute little romance where the reader is absolutely heart-struck for Silver.

He could be training outside whether it be by himself or with someone like Sebek, and you would just be there cooing and squealing on the sides.

“I should start charging you with how much you just come here to ogle.” Lilia teased as he looked back and forth between you and his son. You could only respond with quiet yet long set of giggles as you tried to fan the heat away from your face. Your heart quickening it’s pace just at the sight of Silver glancing your way only to return back to his spar.

The times you would quite literally chase after him in the hallways just to give him gifts or to just profess your love again.

“Wait!! Please Silver just one chance I’m begging you!” You shouted with an exhausted tone, the difference between yours and Silver’s stamina was quite apparent as you grew tired after running past only three classrooms. Pure stubbornness and love were the only things keeping your feet moving to try and catch up. This became a common occurrence in the hallways, making it a bit of a jest to some students witnessing the scene. “When do you think she’ll get tired of running?” Deuce asked, “five minutes ago.” Ace sighed.

You’d mope around whenever you lost sight of him or get politely rejected once again.

Grim would wack you repeatedly to get you to focus and not get your tears stained on you work again. “Henchman stop crying while you write, the papers are getting all wet because of you!” “He’ll never love me at this rate…” you sobbed as you began to finish up your class work.

Diasomnia would poke fun at Silver whenever another confession letter (more so a desperate plea) would wind up in his hands again.

“Please please please please please, I’m a wonderful person to be in a relationship with dare I say the best!-”with you listing off the multiple reasons as to why you were, the best. The letters he would sometimes share with his father or even Malleus, sighing as he was always met with their hearty laughs. He continued to read all your letters that came in even if he knew what would most likely be written in them, and dare I say growing to like them. A warm grin appearing on Lilia’s lips as he watched a small flustered smile form on Silver’s, hidden behind an unopened envelope he held.

Your excitement whenever you do get the chance to be near or work with him.

You tried your best to control yourself from physically vibrating with excitement as you got to sit next to Silver at lunch (after pushing Sebek out the way). Though, you did forget to eat your lunch from how much you were gazing at him, earning a few gags from Sebek. “Would there happen to be something on my face?” Silver asked genuinely as her grazed his fingers along his cheek and lips to try and find some sort of food. You could only laugh softly before responding warmly, “You’re just so pretty it’s hard to not just stare.” Your gaze softened as you watched a pink hue grow on his cheeks. This time Grim gagged.

You being bamboozled when Silver is the one to make the first move instead, leaving passerby even more shell shocked.

“You’re… You’re free after this class right? Would you want to go out somewhere then—if it isn’t much to ask of course…” Silver mumbled the last part, his familiar pink tint gracing his cheeks again. In comparison to your face though, you were left completely pale. You weren’t happen to be dreaming again were you??? After a minute to process his offer you shoot to grabbing his hands as you jumped to him with excitement. “Of course!” Stars practically replacing your eyes as steam rose from your overheated red cheeks.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst silver #twst mc #twst fanfic #lilia vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #ace trappola #deuce spade #disney twst #twst wonderland #twst x reader

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queenshelby · 7 months

Text

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 38: DANIELLE'S STATEMENT

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Pregnancy Loss, Infertility

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

Cillian took the phone from Nina, reading the article out loud to you both. His face grew grim as he absorbed the contents, his expression mirroring your unease. You exchanged looks, knowing this was going to be a problem.

"Well, there's no denying it now," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

You bit your lip, trying to decide how to handle the situation. You felt your cheeks heat up as you imagined the consequences of what this may mean for you both. Not only was this humiliating for Cillian just before the BAFTAs, but also did it jeopardise your relationship with him, especially since, until now, he did not know about how you made your money in the past.

Cillian looked conflicted, torn between whether or not to address the situation, but you decided to break the silence first.

"I did not mean to hide anything from you, Cillian but I was and still am utterly embarrassed by this," you said, tears welling up in your eyes.

"So, it is actually true?" Cillian asked with surprise, thinking that the tabloids had made up a story to make you look bad.

"Yes," you said, and this statement took courage, given the secrets you had kept thus far especially in front of Cillian's 14-year-old daughter Nina who, too, had to hear why you did what you did at such a young age. "It started when I was 16 actually. Not when I was 18. It was illegal but, when I went to high school, my forester parents didn't support me. They used the money they were given by the state to buy drugs and alcohol, so I needed to find a way to finance my studies. I worked at a strip club to pay for my tuition fees. It's not something I am proud of, and I have been trying hard to forget about it ever since," you explained, causing Cillian to swallow harshly before cupping your face.

"I am so sorry Cillian," you began to cry, and Cillian quickly shook his head.

"Don't be, Y/N. I don't care where you come from or what you did. You are smart, beautiful, and funny. And I love you. That's all that matters to me," he replied earnestly, making you smile weakly through your tears.

Cillian caressed your cheek with his thumb, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "But I am sorry that you had to endure such shit upbringings and now have to endure this rubbish as well," he went on to say, his voice gentle yet firm. "We'll get through this together, okay?" he suggested, and a lump formed in your throat as you nodded, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand.

"This will look so bad for you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cillian winced, looking genuinely hurt by the mention of his age. "I don't care what it looks like," he assured you. "What I care about is who you are, not where you're from or what you've done. If people can't see that, then they're not worth worrying about," he then reassured you before he drew you into a fierce embrace, his words offering solace and reassurance.

You hugged him back, feeling your emotions spilling over. "Thank you, Cill. This means a lot to me," you whispered into his chest, and Cillian squeezed you tighter, his own heart swelling with pride and protectiveness.

Nina cleared her throat, breaking the tender moment. "I'm really sorry for interrupting you guys, but we need to talk about this. You are not going to let this slide, are you?" she said, gesturing towards the magazine.

Cillian reluctantly released you, allowing you to compose yourself before speaking again.

"Look, it doesn't change anything between us," he pointed out to his daughter, trying to put her mind at ease before turning to you.

You nodded, trying to swallow down the lump forming in your throat. Silently, you agreed hesitantly, still processing the newfound information.

Cillian wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. You took a deep breath, letting Cillian's warmth seep into your being.

"Can you say something back, dad?" Nina asked, her tone curious.

"To the press?" he asked rhetorically, raising an eyebrow in response to his daughter's question.

Nina scoffed, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "They always do this kind of thing. You're just an easy target because of your age difference with Y/N. Otherwise, no one would have cared. You need to make a statement or something," she commented, crossing her arms defensively.

Cillian sighed, running a hand through his hair once more in frustration. He despised engaging with reporters and gossip like this, but it seemed necessary in order to protect those closest to him - including you.

"Fuck," he cursed before picking up his phone from the bedside table and making a call to his publicity agent.

"Liam, listen. There's an article in OK! Magazine that you need to address. Can you please call me back?" he spoke sharply into the receiver, leaving a message for him.

"Cill, I don't care. Don't do this for me," you told him after he hung up, but Cillian seemed determined.

"But I care Y/N. This entire article is nonsense," he insisted, holding your gaze with intensity as he brushed his fingers through your hair, giving you a reassuring smile.

"Just trust me on this, okay? Please," he requested softly; his eyes full of sincerity and you hesitated before finally nodding.

***

Several days later, and much to your surprise, you found yet another article about Cillian and you just as you packed your bag for your impending trip to London.

This article held a much different tone, and you were sure that Nina had something to do with it.

Title: Cillian Murphy's Ex Danielle Speaks Out: "I'm Happy for Him and Our Kids"

In the world of showbiz, love knows no boundaries. And when it comes to the mesmerising actor Cillian Murphy, the news of his blossoming May-December romance with dance teacher and performer Y/N Y/LN raised a few eyebrows due to their 22-year age gap and Y/N’s troubled past. But fret not, dear readers, as the acclaimed actress Danielle Murphy, is here to set the record straight and endorse their relationship!

In an exclusive interview, Danielle Murphy opened up about her ex-husband's relationship, highlighting the wonderful role that Cillian’s new love interest plays in their lives. As it turns out, Y/N not only teaches dance, but she is also the instructor to Danielle and Cillian's daughter Nina who has built a strong relationship with her father’s new and much younger girlfriend.

"Dance has always been a big part of Nina's life, and I couldn't be more thrilled that Y/N teaches and mentors her," Danielle shared with a warm smile. "When you're co-parenting, especially with teenagers, having a positive and welcome addition like Y/N is truly a blessing."

It's heartwarming to see the understanding and maturity that exists between Danielle and Cillian, as they manage to navigate their separate lives while focusing on their children's well-being. The ex-couple's unwavering support for their children's passions has ultimately created a harmonious environment for all involved.

In her statement, Danielle strongly emphasised her happiness for Cillian and the joy he has found with Y/N. "Cillian deserves nothing but love and happiness, and if Y/N is the one that brings it to him, then so be it," she expressed. "I trust his judgment, and I trust that Y/N is a wonderful person who will genuinely cherish him as much as he deserves."

As a mother, Danielle emphasised the importance of her children's well-being and happiness. "At the end of the day, my children's happiness is my top priority," she stated sincerely. "And from what I can see, Cillian has found someone who genuinely cares for them which, ultimately, is everything I could ever ask for.”

Indeed, this supportive stance from Danielle shows not only her maturity but also her immense love and respect for her soon-to-be ex-husband as the couple works through their divorce. It is truly commendable how ex-spouses can put aside any grievances for the sake of their children's happiness.

As the gossip mill churns, it's important to remember that love seems to know no boundaries. With Danielle's blessing and Cillian's unwavering support, Y/N finds solace in knowing they have won the hearts of those closest to Cillian and the children. These two individuals have gracefully risen above public judgment and are committed to prioritising love, family and the happiness of their children.

So, let's raise a glass to this modern family and their ability to find joy and harmony amidst the prying eyes of the world. Cheers to Cillian, Danielle, Y/N, and their beautiful blended family!

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