#in a family that has so many chaos that he always feels the need to prove himself in the terms he was taught | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonsaver · 22 days

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Iris family!reader back at it again! Here's part 2 of this, which was VERY incomplete because tumblr decided to bust on me and upload it while i was still drafting!! I think this part might be more confusing, so feel free to ask about it right away!

Taglist is at the end of the fic hehe

Aventurine has an eye for craftsmanship. And very good ears.

You recall vividly. That's the first thing he mentioned about himself when he first introduced himself to you.

You know it's not a coincidence he's reaching out to you. Especially after a meeting with Mr. Sunday, which is his direct, formal contact with the Oak Family. You, on the other hand, were a direct, informal contact. The fact you were barely a notable singer in the plethora of talents Penacony held wasn't what mattered to Aventurine. Neither did it matter that you were from the Iris Family. Because to him, you were a one-way ticket to Sunday's mind.

It's also no coincidence he's decided to drop by after he sees the wide open door of your room.

“I've heard well about your station, friend.”

He makes himself comfortable on the stiff couch of the hotel room, the fabric wrinkling and the frame creaking from the shift in weight.

“I.. don't need your help. I’m fine.”

“Can't hurt to always have connections, keeps you afloat, birdie.”

“Don't tell me that. I don't need any more. I've had enough.”

Aventurine smiles, and leans back into the couch, one of his arms lazily resting on the couch's and the finger of his hand tapping the top of his knee.

“Your earrings are the talk of the town, y'know?”

Your hand instinctively shoots up, and your fingers ghost the lobe of your ear. You're not wearing any at the moment.

“Is that so..?”

Your body language is jittery. Your hands keep fidgeting. Your lips hurt from the constant chewing, your finger rubs your earlobe.

Aventurine fiddles with his own, and gets up. He walks over to you with slow, easing steps.

“There's a cute little section in a few tabloids about those earrings. There's also a little fact that your ears burn red when you lie.”

Aventurine stands in front of you.

“That can't be right. It's totally bullshit.”

He chuckles at your response. He leans in, slowly, his breath ghosts the shell of your ears. The oddly sweet scent of expensive, exotic wine line his cool breath over your skin.

“There's also been that whole buzz about The Watchmaker's Legacy.”

The close proximity renders you paralyzed – many thoughts run through your head; should you push him away? Should you step away instead? Snap back at him?

You feel his gloved finger busy itself with your ear. A snap resounds loudly through your ear, and his hand retracts. So does he.

Your agitated gaze lingers on his smug face, and wanders over to his ears. They're red.

“I'll give you some advice – you should try and take advantage of chaos.”

His hand raises slightly, and his fingers barely kiss the skin of your elbows. It snaps something in you, and you immediately move to step back.

His other hand shoots up and grabs your arm in response.

“We can help each other, can't we, little sparrow? A glimpse of that man's mind is enough for me. I'll help you keep your family all safe and sound.”

“I– don't care what you have to offer. I am not taking that risk! This crap about The Watchmaker, I'm not having it! Find someone else to bother!”

Aventurine's smile widens, his eyes stare down at you. The concentric colours are almost hypnotising.

“Relax. The game's only started, I'm sure there's enough time for you to analyse the situation and pick a side. And things will fall into place all in due time.”

A knock.

Both you and Aventurine snap your heads to the source. The door creaks open.

Sunday stands, composed. His knuckles linger on the polished wood of the door for a few more seconds, before his hand falls to his side. His other hand holds a black, velvet bag.

You forgot to take that back.

“It seems we meet again.”

Aventurine hums.

‐

“Are you perhaps.. unhappy with your current circumstances?”

“No, I'm.. quite pleased with it. Please, don't take anything to heart. I was fervently denying all of his offers.”

Sunday chuckles softly.

“I understand. Please, be at ease.”

Sunday knew what lied in store for him when he became a part of the Family.

As their long-burdened history, all of them were to join and form an impenetrable force, decorating the Dreamscape lavishly for those who had the privilege to deny reality.

Which was ironic.

It was comically ironic.

Such was their torment.

As eagles rip and gnaw the liver of human emotion, such was the painful symbolization of human strive. And this was a neverending story. A neverending performance of a traitor, prisoners and a false dream. A Death that surely extracts the price for all that has been done. A price that grows thick over the bones of each generation, for daring to dream together, for daring to yearn for freedom.

Some knew of this history. Most were not privy to it.

Sunday tells you in passing, as his gloved fingers gently drop the velvet bag in your hand. You suppose it was simple small talk.

A beat of silence passes.

“Ah, I may have fed a false fact to that Tabloid.”

You look up at Sunday.

“Im sorry?”

“I wasn't aware of whether or not your ears turn red. They were eager for a harmless fact, and I conjured up something on the spot.”

“Oh, they.. approached you directly?”

“They first approached Robin, to be exact. I arrived just in time to answer a small question. My apologies for making a hasty decision at a presented opportunity.”

You blink a few times.

“Ah, well.. not like it can be helped now but.. please be careful. One thing tends to lead to another.”

“I've taken note of that.” his eyes focus on the lobe of your ear.

What's he looking at..?

Your hand cautiously reaches up to your ear. Aventurine's earring?

“Oh, um.”

You break out in a sweat, and your shaky hands immediately remove it. You look at the flashy, teal accessory. Then you look at Sunday, gauging his reaction.

He smiles. Perhaps that fact wasn't false.

“I suggest not striking a deal with Aventurine. I can assure your family's security.”

“Oh, I know I just–”

“The Family does not take dealings with the IPC lightly.”

You stay silent.

He sighs, and his gaze seems to soften for a moment. His gloved hand reaches out and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Apologies. The Charmony festival is coming soon. Extra measures have been established. Please, approach me instead.”

His voice softens at the end.

“I.. understand.”

‐

Sunday thinks a change of your career is in order.

A brand new start, a better title, a better colleague.

Somewhere along the way, most of Penacony's more enthusiastic visitors were in the know about you. Your popularity settled comfortably on event lists, and Sunday was steadfast in his promise.

However, there's now an increase in work. Particularly, working late at night with Sunday.

Your job now had strict parameters you didn't have in your former station. Deadlines, reports, even hearsay playing an important role. Although, for once your rusty luck has come into play, and Sunday is much more fair to you than any other manager that you could have been working under, if it weren't for your decision to become a singer.

That being said, the public now saw less of you, which instead soared rumours about you and increased your popularity more. You aren't sure how to thank Sunday – he only gives you a closed eye smile whenever you decide to at least verbalise your gratitude.

‐

“Ah, you should take a look at this.”

Sunday beckons you to come closer, pointing and curling his index finger towards you. You oblige wordlessly, and with a few swift clicks of your shoes, you stand right beside Sunday, leaning a bit to take a better look.

His finger points to several figures in the document, and you hum, eyes scanning through the neatly organised words.

“Does this mean I'll get significantly busier?”

“You best prepare, as per my suggestion.”

You sigh, a bit dramatically, and Sunday chuckles.

“My apologies. I know I've already asked for a lot from your end. I shall support you equally.”

“That's.. well, alright. I was just worried about something else.”

You avoid his eyes, discomfort creeping up on you, as those rumours swirl in your head.

“Be at ease, tell me.”

“It's.. the rumours surrounding me. They're not serious but, recently they've taken a strange turn of events.”

Sunday hums. He gets up, and walks towards a bookshelf, his fingers slide over their spines, and stop at a specific book. You continue,

“It's– um.. quite strange.”

Sunday pulls out the book, and opens it, sifting through the pages with familiarity.

“It was just about the earrings at first but they took a bit of a bizarre turn.. they–”

Sunday snaps the book shut,

“About us. Yes. I've heard.”

You blink a few times.

“They're..”

His fingers trace over the book's cover, before sliding it back into its place.

“Rumoured relationships between us, the debate about work ethics, and the whole lot. Yes, I'm well-informed.”

He turns to you. His all too familiar smile still on his face. His golden eyes seem much more intimidating than they used to.

“They'll die down. I can assure you they are of no importance. However, it helps with your exposure doesn't it?”

He turns his back to you, continuing to look at you over his shoulder.

“They will fizzle out in due time.”

You suppose Sunday is familiar with rumours. But this time, it is only particularly because he created them.

‐

The robin chirps and twits inside its golden cage.

“What's this?”

You smile, a finger gently tapping a bar of the delicate cage,

“It's a robin. I hoped it would guide you during practice.”

You chuckle, and Sunday smiles, both of your eyes fixated on the bird that's chirping and curiously tilting its head at you.

Sunday's encouraged you to practice singing more often inside the office. You've gotten off of your formal duties very late, and as of recent you've scarcely had time to practice. Sunday's insistence led to you often humming and practicing in front of your dressing table. It took a while, but you eased into it fairly well.

Sunday, on the other hand, enjoys your singing more than he lets on. He finds himself humming to your tune every so often, once you've left and no other ambience fills the room. Perhaps that's also one of the reasons he's brought a robin bird to you.

You sing a simple tune, and the robin follows. It chirps happily, and you giggle at its strange antics. And thus, whenever you aren't present, the bird sings in your stead.

It's not soon before the robin loses its vitality, however. A gilded cage is a cage nonetheless.

Your voice was dampened that day. But Sunday had a plethora of ideas rush to his head.

‐

Something's been wrong with your voice as of recent.

You've avoided any strange drinks, even foregoing any kinds of juices, only opting for water. You avoid even spicy foods, settling for blander dishes. Sunday assures you it's nothing to worry about – even Robin faces challenges with her voice sometimes.

You're at your best, only in Sunday's office.

Everytime you sing, your voice flows smoothly, and you hit every note perfectly. It's wonderful, if it weren't for the fact your voice didn't seem to hold this effect outside of his office. You came to this realisation late at night when you tried singing in the bathroom to yourself, your voice kept tapering, and even stopped at some points. The doctors all assured you things were fine, and at best only prescribed some throat medicine. You wonder what's been going wrong.

Sunday isn't ignorant of your recent concerns, either. He seems to be taking it in stride.

The golden cage is on your dressing table, empty. You stare at it, thoughts swirling in your head. What went wrong? Where? Why? What did you do?

Sunday's familiar gloved hands place themselves upon your shoulders again. It's a shame. He says. What is a robin without its voice? He says. It echoes in your mind for days.

“Take a break.” one of his gloved hands make it's way to yours, folded in your lap. He brings your knuckles up to his lips, whispering assurances into it.

“It'll be fine. I'll take care of it.” He kisses between the valley of your knuckles,

“Don't worry. Help me out with the rest of the documents, and we can take a look at your voice after.”

You don't say anything. Maybe because you can't.

“Hmm.. your voice tapers too much at the chorus.”

You sigh. You've lost count of how many times you've had to repeat this song, your voice simply cannot seem to hold true to the chorus that's planned. Sunday flips another page of a long-winded document, and sets it down gently on the table, looking up at you when you sigh and only hold onto the mic with disappointment glazing your eyes.

“Have a seat. Perhaps a break may help you.”

You hesitantly oblige, but sigh again, deeply, as the muscles of your throat ache with the strain and relaxation. You sit down at the makeshift dressing table Sunday managed to prepare for you. His courtesy, of course.

You shuffle around it – your dressing table isn't actually much different than Sunday's office desk. It's littered with event planners, schedules, and all sorts of graphs and figures. Your hands lazily pick up a sheet and scan over it, choosing to at least distract yourself while you give your raw throat a rest.

You hear a muffled creak behind you, followed by a few, small footsteps. Sunday stands behind you in the reflection. His hands gently come up to your hair, fingers running through it and fixing it.

“Some members of the Family – particularly the Nightingale Family, wanted to extend their gratitude to you. You've been arduously managing the crowd and shifting their gazes away from the construction work.”

You hum slightly, your eyes unfocused on the words. Sunday's touch seems to leave you dazed, or rather conflicted, these days.

His fingers leave your hair, and rest on your shoulders. He leans down, his lips graze the shell of your ear. His soft breath tickles your skin, and forms goosebumps.

“And I am.. personally grateful to have you working alongside me.”

Your eyes wander on your table. They avoid his gaze through the mirror's reflection.

“I also.. intend to help you, further than before.”

His voice grows softer and lower, descending into a whisper. One of his hands move from your should to the middle of your collarbone, a lone finger drags up to the middle of your neck. Your breath hitches.

“Mr. Sunday..?”

“It's alright. We needn't be so formal.”

Suddenly, a splotch of colours blur your vision from the corners. You hiss, and groan, immediately burying your head into your hands, striking pain pulses through your head. You close your eyes in efforts to relieve yourself, but it doesn't cease.

“Perfect Harmony.. Order.. it doesn't come easily. Allow me to assist you in reaching that.”

You breathe heavily, the pulsing ache in your head slowly subsides, but the colours remain persistent.

“Sunday..?”

“My dear, let us rejoice. A new chapter of your life has begun. Your family can find ease. We- no, I, can take care of them. Of you.”

You swallow thickly, dread pooling in your stomach. The finger on your neck trails up your neck and pushes your chin upwards, forcing you to face your reflection. The side of Sunday's face is pressed to yours, your eyes are dazed, but his have never been so clear, and bright.

“Just do as you've always done. This is simply to bolt your loyalty, my dear.”

Sunday kisses your cheek, his wings gently flutter on the other side of your face. You close your eyes. The pain subsides into something more blissful, calming. Your body relaxes almost against your will.

‐

Your voice has been perfect as of late. As long as you don't sing for anyone.

Which is to say – you're rendered useless in the grand scheme of Penacony. This terrifies you.

Your family has never been more vulnerable.

What is a robin without her voice? It echoes irrevocably in your mind, the question awaiting an answer. Nothing responds. Nothing, responds.

Empty ballads accompany the marble walls of the hallway leading to Sunday's office. His back is turned to you, his fingers sifting through the spines of familiar books on his shelf. His wings slightly flutter every time your voice hits a high note. Your voice was pitch perfect whenever you sang in his office. Anywhere else? It was a bust. Robin also tried her hand at comforting you, but the tapering edge of her voice only concerned you. An emanator of harmony relied completely on just that to sustain her voice. She'd lost it completely otherwise.

Your lips are raw from the constant biting. Your family tries assuring you they can also pull together scraps and bits to keep themselves afloat; that you've worked hard enough, and you need your rest. Sunday assures their security as always. He's stopped commenting on your concerns with your voice.

“Sunday, my voice..”

“Perfect, my dear.”

He's grown more familiar with using pet names instead of your name. You don't remember exactly when the transition took place.

“No, it's.. I can't sing anymore. I can't perform.”

“Ah, is that so?”

Sunday's deft fingers write something down on a scrap of paper, holding the book open in another hand.

“Not to fret, darling. The public awaits your performance in due time. Take a break for now, and focus on paperwork.”

It does more to discourage you, really.

“I don't know.”

“I know.”

Sunday places the book down gently on his table. He looks at your seated figure, illuminated by the warm light of his office.

Sunday wanted the best for Penacony. But when it came to you, he couldn't help but be greedy. Your voice was beautiful to him. He feels bad, raining on your parade like this. But there's endless amounts of performers who can take your place. There's only one of you who can catch his eye, however.

An empty cage is reminiscent of a happy bird. But a chirping robin is reminiscent of a happy man. Your lost voice still echoes well through the halls, resounding through the marble structures.

A gilded cage is a cage nonetheless. A happier bird is one that does not realise its cage. Sing to your heart's desire in it, he thinks.

Your head falls to your hands again, blurring splotches of colour blaze through your vision and head again – a familiar, aching pulse resonates in your head. Your voice feels trapped. Sunday walks to you, and places a hand on your back, rubbing gently to soothe you. The colours disappear, leaving you in a daze. Sunday leans down to kiss your forehead, relaxing your furrowed brows.

It's true. You've proven it. A bird that does not realise it's true confines. You may be unhappy, but you sing your throat raw, and Sunday is your only audience. Parameters will only get stricter, but it's for your own good. He assures you endlessly, leaving out that one piece of information.

A robin without a voice is nothing but a dull bird. You, without yours, are just his.

Taglist: @sharkiethrts @sarcastic-cookie

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verstappen-cult · 4 months

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SPENDING CHRISTMAS WITH THE BOYS | F1 GRID

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

lando enjoys the holidays for many reasons, and one of the main ones is how happy you always are. you take everything involving christmas very serious and he tries to help you as much as he can, but it’s lando, he can’t help but go up to santa at the mall, asking for what he wants for christmas as if he’s five years old, embarrassing you so much you don’t think you will ever be showing your face again. lando is awful at wrapping presents, but you take your time teaching him between giggles and kisses that taste like hot cocoa. and after a very stressful but fun day of shopping and wrapping presents, you end your day cuddle up in front the fireplace with hot drinks and a christmas movie.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

charles knows you love christmas, so you don’t even need to ask for him to know that as soon as the season starts, you want to go and see the christmas lights around the neighborhood. so he drives you for hours, heart melting at your happy face and tears in your eyes. you decorate the tree together while christmas songs play in the background, that soon turns into a karaoke fight. charles’ favorite part of decorating the house is definitely when he has to lift you up so you can hang up the ones that you can’t reach by your own. of course you have stairs that could easily help you do it, he just doesn’t tell you.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

oscar loves you so, so much because if that weren’t the case, he definitely wouldn’t be wearing the matching sweaters you gifted him a few christmas ago. much less while shopping where everyone can recognize him. but really, oscar doesn’t care if a picture of him wearing an ugly bright-green grinch sweater goes viral as long as you keep smiling at him every time you turn around to show him something. and it all pays off when you arrive home, after a day full of activities, and he feels your arms wrapping around him as you tell him how grateful you are between kisses.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

max goes all out to make every christmas special and makes sure to have the days leading up to christmas free so you can go shopping together. what max loves the most is how you slip your hand inside his coat’s pocket so you can still hold hands. and when he sees all the ingredients to make a gingerbread house, of course he has to buy it. so when he comes home with a big smile you don’t hesitate to clean the kitchen and sit down to put it together. and it chaos, neither of you had done it before and it ends up being anything but a gingerbread house, but you love it, you made it together so it has a special place on the countertop where everyone can see it.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

every year since you and alex have together he takes you to an ice rink. you both have learn a lot of tricks that, of course, end up with you bumping into people and falling. it’s your favorite night in december where you can just be kids together. the night ends up with you two walking down the christmas fair, sharing candy canes and hot cocoa while arguing about what movie to watch that night. and if you find yourselves under a mistletoe making out, well, nobody needs to know that.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

daniel loves christmas in australia because he can be with you for a full month and scape the cold, too. all his family gets together on christmas eve and every year you are a bundle of nerves. they love you, you know that and daniel makes sure you remember, he also makes you forget all about nerves dragging you to the kitchen where the little ones are setting out all the snacks for santa and his reindeers. you finish with only half the cookies and carrots because daniel can’t help himself. after that all the adults gather in the living room to drink and chat. it’s a little different tradition, but you love it.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

mick loves to do a mini photoshoot on christmas day with your matching pajamas because you two look so pretty in them, and needs it for his collection. then, sitting by the fireplace to exchange gifts before going your separate ways to spend christmas with your families. he always has that big and bright smile on his face that you love so much when it’s your turn to open your presents. you say your goodbyes outside in the snow, kissing and getting wet but not caring at all. you promise to see each other the next day to snuggle up in the couch and see your favorite holiday movies together.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 grid x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc fluff #alex albon x reader #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris x reader #mick schumacher blurb #mick schumacher x reader #oscar piastri x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #max verstappen fluff #lando norris imagine #f1 imagine

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benisasoftboi · 7 months

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I am so happy with the conclusion of BBC Ghosts.

There were so many things I loved about the final series that I can't even keep it all straight in my brain, I'll have to rewatch it all (and the Christmas special, of course! Must remember it's the not the true end yet!)

But something I can immediately say I loved was what they didn't do. See, that line in the trailer that turned out to be from episode 5 - about there being a pattern to when they move on - worried me. One of the best things about the show, to me, is how there truly is not any reason at all to why the ghosts are there, or when they go. It's something the creators have said over and over, and that the show has always backed up; we saw so many times that, unlike in most ghost media, addressing unfinished business or achieving emotional resolution changes absolutely nothing. Pat hit some sort of emotional resolution three times. And Julian realised the importance of family, and Robin saved someone’s life, and Thomas discovered the truth of his death, and so on and so on. Finding closure isn't the end, and equally, the end isn't predicated by a climatic conclusion. It just happens. And the same is true for why people become ghosts. It just happens. And you exist, and fill your days, and then you’re gone. And no one knows why.

It's kind of the most agnostic television show I've ever seen.

I love that. Every other afterlife show I've ever seen has some kind of reward and punishment system. Or at least says that there's a reason for things, some kind of higher power at play, not necessarily a god but something like it. Even the American adaptation felt the need to bring Hell into it, which is why I need to specify that I'm only talking about the British version here. And I feel like a lot of fans wanted there to be reasons too, or felt like there simply had to be, that it wasn't even a question. I get why - it's not just because it's the standard for ghost narratives. It's really uncomfortable to think about the randomness of life and death. But Mary didn't go because of anything that happened before that day, and Cap was never going to go because he came out, and one day, when they've all gone, there won't have been a reason for it.

Because the real point of BBC Ghosts is that there is no point. You’ve just got to make it through the days, surrounded by people that irritate you, trapped in a confusing world where you’re mostly powerless. And it sucks, and you're angry, and sad, and bored as hell. And you also find happiness in the mundane chaos, and you get really good at chess, and watch the ants in the garden, and write bad poetry, and read terrible romance novels, and gamble money you don't have, and go camping, and play games, and learn French, and watch reality TV, and have sex with a decapitated Tudor nobleman’s body, and dance to old music, and look at the stars, and find that you actually really love all those annoying people after all, and that’s the point.

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts spoilers #bbc ghosts series 5 #but imagine if they prove me wrong by melodramatically killing them all off at christmas though lmao actually that would be hilarious do it #also love so very much that they finished on a gay joke they know who's on the front lines for them <3 #god it's a cliche but really do already miss 'em

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solar-wing · 8 months

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🦇 Surviving Damian: BatBro's Life 🎞️

I don't know why, but the way Damian turns to look at Dick in this clip has me rolling

🦇 🎞️ A/N → A continuation of my Batbro Headcanons with everyone's favorite little assassin, Damian. This is also inspired by this post from @batsiblingfun. This mixes in a lot of different elements from different DC shows and movies, but still all tie together. Conner x Reader along with Damian x Raven included. WARNINGS: None really. family fluff, minor threats of violence. You and Damian conspiring together. Bruce needs his lawyers. Mentions of trauma and therapy. Joker being Joker.

🦇🎞️ Summary → It's one thing to find out Bruce Wayne is your biological father. It's another thing to find out you also have a half-brother from the same father who also didn't meet him until around the same time you did. Now, some would consider getting a new older brother to be a good thing. Of course, when they point out what they see as an ideal image of that, Damian Wayne is more or less far from it. Truthfully, you'd need an entire documentary to explain that trauma. But, in his defense, he did warn Bruce not to make him a middle child. Oh well...

🦇🎞️ Word Count → 5.3k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

🦇 ENJOY 🎞️

— Some may imagine having Bruce Wayne as your father entails a glamorous and extravagant life.

— "Oh wow! Your dad is Bruce Wayne? That's so cool!" "I bet you've been to so many great places." "Have you met any celebrities before?" "Your life must be so interesting!"

— To answer that, depends on the day. The watchtower is cool, but not as interesting as what you saw on that one trip to Puerto Rico. Would Superman even be considered a celebrity? And, define interesting.

— Because if you mean 'interesting' like waking up every day wondering if it's going to be some random supervillain that unalives you, or your own brother, then yes, your life is fascinating.

— What most people don't consider when they find out your father is Bruce Wayne is not only did you all of a sudden get a new parent, but you also got new siblings. As your eldest brother Dick once said, "I went from being an only child to living in utter chaos every day." The only difference is that Dick actually somewhat thrives in chaos. Which is weird considering you'd think it'd be someone more like Jason who lived by that statement.

— You, on the other hand, would rather go without the constant weird shit that goes on with your father and siblings all being a bunch of vigilantes who save your city and the world from crazy clowns and guys who clearly like to live every day like it's Halloween.

— But, the thing is, 90% of the shit you have to deal with doesn't even come from those creeps and villains. It's literally from your own house, specifically one person.

— At one point in your life, you wished to have a sibling. Someone you could share that irreplaceable bond with. Fighting over small stuff like the remote, or who got first dibs on Alfred's cookies. Only to kiss and make up later when one of you got bored or hungry. Insulting and torturing each other only to join forces if someone outside of you two decided to mess with the other. Coming up with crazy schemes that would inevitably shorten your father's life expectancy.

— You know, normal stuff.

— You'd think Dick would get the title of 'most stable' among your siblings, but surprisingly, that was awarded to Jason, which, I know right?! Mind you, 'stable' was being used on very loose terms here. But, Richard was almost more like a second dad than a brother, which you figured came with the role of being the oldest sibling. Since he had the most experience dealing with an emotionally absent Bruce, he'd pick up where he fell off. Of course, Bruce got better over time and learned how to not distance himself whenever his feelings got even a little poked, but Richard was always your go-to whenever you needed support.

— You'd almost considered Jason for the title of most unstable, but then you met Tim, and realized Jason was actually better than you thought, considering what he's been through. Your second oldest brother wasn't really open towards you, but as you two started to spend time together, you grew on him and vice versa. At one point, the Red Hood persona vowed to not only do everything he could to keep you safe but as innocent and pure as you could be. He would not let Bruce and his questionable parenting ruin another child. His earlier methods were probably not the most effective. CPS was still calling at least once a week.

— There weren't enough words to describe Tim. When you first came to the mansion, he seemed completely normal and sane for the most part. Then, after you discovered your father's side hustle, you realized how opposite the reality was. You remembered something your mom said about the only things she was scared of. "I only fear two things in this life; God and the IRS." Well, you'd definitely be adding a certain Red Robin to that list. There were just things Tim would say or do that he thought was completely normal, and you'd be discreetly dialing a mental hospital, fearing for your safety. Why did you know the number for one off the top of your head? Let's just say you had your reasons. But, you'd rather have Tim as an ally than an enemy, so you refrained. That didn't stop you from keeping them on speed dial though.

— Yes, you definitely had some interesting siblings, but none of them compared to your other brother. The one you regrettably shared blood with. Hopefully, he didn't hear you say that.

— It was one thing to have Bruce Wayne as a father. It was an entirely different thing to have Damian Wayne for a brother.

— The first day you two met, Damian had already been at the manor for a few months when Talia had left him with Bruce while she went to handle business. What business that entailed, your father kept you in the shadows, and quite frankly, you were grateful. After your mom left you on the manor's doorsteps with a note that just read, "Trust me, he's yours," your life was never the same.

— You remembered being excited that day. You finally got to meet your dad, and you got a brother out of it too! Multiple brothers and sisters actually! Whoever was out there listening to you had answered your deepest wishes.

— Now, you wished they just minded their damn business.

— Unlike Damian, you were not aware of your father's secret identity. So, when you met, you were a little more than put off by Damian's first greeting towards you.

— "Father, I thought we discussed your habit of picking up street rats and turning them into your next apprentice."

— Truthfully, that was actually more than a pleasant start to your relationship with the trained assassin. When you eventually heard the story of how Dick and Damian "met" for the first time, you suddenly felt grateful at the fact there were no sharp objects nearby...that you knew of.

— If you happened to start locking your bedroom door at night and setting booby traps to alert you if anyone came in while you were sleeping, that was no one else's business but yours.

— The thing was, you tried to connect with Damian, but he would keep brushing you off. Bruce really wasn't that much help as he didn't have the best track record with his first three kids.

— The issue was you and Damian came from two completely different backgrounds, despite your shared parenthood.

— Damian was raised among an organization of highly-trained assassins and was molded from the second he was born to take over from his grandfather who was the equivalent of an undead lich, only he was actually alive. You had a normal childhood for the most part. You went to school, made friends, tried different hobbies, etc.

— You saw Damian as uptight and weird, and he saw you as naive and weak.

— Of course, as everything does in this family, shit only got more intense.

— After Bruce ran a DNA test and confirmed you were indeed his son, they got you set up in the manor and your new life. Your last name was officially changed to Wayne with you wanting to keep your mother's surname hyphenated in there.

— You wanted to decorate your bedroom, so you asked your dad to take you shopping, fully intending to take advantage of your newfound wealth (your mother taught you well). Bruce figured it'd be a great way for you and him to get to know each other as he was trying to be more of the supportive dad that Dick and Jason lectured him about. And if CPS decided to give him another one of their 'visits,' he'd rather not provide them with any more reasons to be taking down notes. He was still trying to find a way to punish Jason for that stunt.

— And at Alfred's suggestion, he brought Damian along, thinking it'd be great family time for the Wayne men, and it'd give his firstborn a chance at being an actual kid since Damian never decorated his room when he first got there.

— You went all out. At some point, Bruce wondered if everything he was buying was starting to become too much, but you threw him the puppy dog look you mastered at three years old, and he folded like a lawn chair. Your mother had grown resistant to that trick so, it was great to finally be using it again. Posters, knick-knacks, a new desk, a whole gaming set-up, LED lights, a gaming chair, you name it, you got it. You'd even tried to get Damian to get a few things for himself, wanting to get to know more about your brother.

— "I don't need materialistic objects to satisfy myself like you and other low-lives do. Besides, you're only doing this to 'make up' for the more than likely poor life you lived before with whoever your harlot mother is."

— Alright, that did it. You tackled Damian in the middle of the mall, throwing all your weight on top of him. Of course, you were unaware of his combat training so he threw you off pretty easily, pushing you to the ground and twisting your arm behind your back to where he almost broke it. Bruce had to yank him off you and grab you as well to prevent you from charging him again while everyone else around was taking pictures and videos.

— Bruce's PR team was not happy with the stories and articles on the gossip websites the next morning. But, they managed to twist it around into a positive light, painting the Billionaire Playboy as the role model male, doing his best to raise his two boys as best he could being a single father.

— "Oh, he's such a family man. #EvenMoreAttactive". – @Supermom92

— "He's a good man, Vanessa. A good man." - @mooreswhore

— "This is what we need more of. Strong men taking charge in their son's lives." – @topalpha

— "#GladTheyAin'tMyKids." – @aynonymous

— Of course, this did nothing to help the relationship between you and the youngest Boy Wonder, but Alfred's reassurance eased Bruce's headache.

— "Truthfully, Master Wayne, it would seem to me they are already falling quite well into their new roles as brothers. It will get better over time."

— When exactly was better? Because things only seemed to get more tense between you two. The fights didn't end there. As you spent more time in the manor, you'd gotten to know your other adoptive siblings. And particularly, spending time with your second oldest brother, you'd learned some defensive moves in fighting that only led to your fights with Damian getting worse now that you could hold your own a little more.

— Only there were some moves that you knew that Damian didn't, which really caused a shit storm.

— It may have taken Dick and Jason's combined strength to hold Damian back from trying to literally slice your throat open after you introduced him to the art of the cheese neck. Jason thought it was hilarious and low-key well deserved since your half-brother decided to cut open one of the stuffed bears you had since you were four. Alfred was able to put him back together, but that didn't help the need for revenge you had in the pit of your stomach.

— Since he couldn't murder you, he decided to go with the next best thing he had in mind; mental torture!

— He knew you loved Scooby-Doo, but had a slight fear of some of the monsters and scenes from the show. Look, shit from back in the 70s could be creepy with how they decided to do specific stuff. And sadly on your part, Damian had amazing resources thanks to dear old Papa Bruce.

— So, one day when you thought Bruce was on a business trip (he was on a League mission, and Dick, Jason, and Tim were nowhere to be found along with Alfred), you had the manor to yourself. Or, at least, you thought you did.

— Let's just say Damian decided to place you in your own Scooby-Doo episode, only a tad bit more rated R. Last time you checked, the vampire from that one episode didn't actually have blood and guts dripping from his teeth while chasing Shaggy and Scooby.

— Yeah, Bruce low-key had to invest in a therapist for that one. And CPS definitely took a note down when they saw part of the costume had fallen out of a trash bag and your "concerning" reaction to it. Damian had no shame.

— "Next time, he'll think twice about whose neck he's slapping."

— "Master Bruce, I really do think they're starting to grow on each other, if I do say so myself." This time, Alfred's words were not reassuring for the billionaire.

— Eventually, you and Damian came to a mutual understanding. You stay out of his way, and he would stay out of your way. And it worked! At least until you found out the big secret, and no not the one where Tim...actually, never mind.

— It was an accident, really it was. At least that's how Jason and Tim tried to spin it when he had to explain to Bruce how you thought Red Hood and Red Robin broke into the manor. In truth, they thought you were at a friend's house studying, and the tracker that was stitched to your backpack showed that.

— Hold up... tracker?

— You'd grill them and your dad for that later.

— Now, you were constantly in the Batcave and working Damian's last nerve. You kept asking to help on missions or patrol, and shockingly, this was the one time when Bruce put his foot down and said no to having an adolescent child fighting crime with him.

— Who would've figured?

— The most he'd let you do was help Alfred with comms and computer stuff. Of course, that'd only lead to you and Damian getting into one of your brotherly spats over the comms.

— "At least I have competent training to be in the field. You can barely defend yourself against a cat." Damian sneered into his mic while roundhouse-kicking a thug.

— "First of all you stuck-up brat, Alfred the Cat and I have a lovely relationship and we were play fighting. Secondly, the only thing you're competent at is proving what happens when you forget to use protection!" You quipped right back.

— Dick and Tim tried holding back their laughs while Jason just shouted "DAMN!" Bruce had to pretend not to notice Damian's glare through the domino mask and Alfred pretended to scold you while giving you a fist bump. The Boy Wonder was grinding his teeth.

— Then, a miracle happened. Well, really it was a traumatic experience that Bruce would have to pay for more sessions with your therapist but still was a miracle in the end.

— In another one of his crazy schemes, Joker decided to target Bruce Wayne again, but this time, the newly discovered heirs to Wayne Enterprises, at least, that's what the media was referring to you as.

— He hired some goons to abduct you and Damian from your school and hid you both in one of his many secret hideouts around Gotham. And Joker, never one for subtlety, of course, decided to send out a televised message to Brucie Poosie, a name disturbingly similar to Joker's nickname for Batman. He'd addressed that later.

— Your father and siblings immediately jumped into action of course and started searching the entire city, checking all of Joker's known hideouts and connections. Only, Joker had apparently taken some inspiration and notes from Riddler because while he was busy taunting and trying to shake down Bruce Wayne for everything he could, he was leading Batman and his little birdies (his nickname for all the Robins) on a wild goose chase.

— The more and more time went by, the more and more they got worried for you. Of course, they were worried for Damian as well, but he was used to these kinds of situations. This was your first (and frankly, probably not last) kidnapping.

— At first, you weren't scared (much). No offense, but, Joker always kind of seemed like a joke to you. The fact his whole persona was based on a mad clown really didn't help. You had also never really watched the news or heard people talking about some of the horrible things he had done. You always just heard the part when Batman swooped in and kicked his ass.

— Well, if you made it out of this, you'd definitely have nightmares and a new fear of clowns to add to your list. May have to start considering two-hour sessions with your therapist.

— But, to your surprise, Damian had helped to keep you calm and protected you from seeing more of Joker's 'fun side'. Whenever the clown or one of his thugs got a little too close to your holding cell for your brother's liking, he always placed himself in front of you, just in case they decided to fuck around and find out so he could be ready.

— When the green-haired villain went on one of his disturbing tangents or talked about his plans for you two in case your father didn't follow through with his demands, Damian would cover your ears. Of course, it didn't do much, but the sentiment was appreciated. Your older brother, despite his 'quirks', actually did have a caring side to him. It just took being kidnapped by a psychotic clown and your lives being in terrible danger for it to show. Go figure.

— Of course, your father and siblings eventually tracked you and Damian down and came to your rescue. From what you had seen from your father and brothers in their fighting style, they always were more smart and sneaky with their attacks and ambushes. Jason was more of the impulsive and brash one who liked to rush in, but he grew more into the Bat's style over time. Especially seeing how the last time he rushed into something concerning the Joker, well, there's no need to go down that road.

— But, nope. This time, Bruce was not forgiving with his 'justice' towards Joker. Honestly, you and your siblings were a little worried that Bruce would break his number one rule on no killing for the first time, but he still held back. In the middle of all the chaos, you'd even managed to surprise Damian when some goons tried to surprise you and him after he broke you guys out of the cell. And who said video games couldn't teach you a thing or two about fighting?

— Damian was impressed, and more than curious to see what kind of games you were playing that taught you the fastest way to incapacitate a 200-pound man with a few jabs and well-placed strikes. That or you were insanely lucky to have a man who could barely defend himself against a child. Either way, a win was a win for you.

— Obviously, things changed a bit when you two returned home.

— For one, your family became a lot more clingy and overprotective than before. And that was saying something considering they had a tracker stitched into your backpack without your knowledge before. There was a rotation between the brothers of who would drop off and pick you up from school. This was already a rule before, but now, it was just even more intense with you not being able to leave the manor or go anywhere without someone from the family accompanying you. Bruce started training you in self-defense and combat, with regulations and supervision from your brothers so he didn't make the same mistakes he made with them with you.

— You appreciated it all, and it definitely did help you feel a bit safer (in the beginning), but, really one of the most shocking changes not just to yourself, but everyone else was Damian's change in attitude toward you. Of course, he wasn't outright hugging you or anything crazy like that, but he was more cordial and almost friendlier you could say.

— It was also very apparent Damian had developed a similar protective stance toward you. You being the only non-vigilante in the family meant you kept an aura of innocence and light-heartedness the rest of your family had lost a long time ago. They were more than determined to make sure you kept that light and never lost it like they did so many years ago.

— Thankfully, your time with Joker wasn't anything too traumatic. Joker was actually on one of his schemes for once and didn't do anything too drastic. But, that didn't stop your brother from glaring down any suspicious figure who got too close to you for his liking. If you asked to hang out at a friend's house, Damian took over Bruce's role of asking for details on your friend, they're parents, where you'd be going, and all that extra stuff. If you were aware of the fact that Damian was running full background checks on your friends and their families whenever you went to hang out with them, you pretended not to notice.

– Bruce also had a teary moment of being a proud father seeing how Damian was showing already to be just like him. Which, if we're being honest, was actually a terrifying thought.

— But, it wasn't just Damian who started making an effort to build a more friendly bond between you two. You'd contributed as well. Showing Damian the ways he could learn to let loose and actually be a kid instead of a trained assassin all the time.

— You'd invited him more than once to hang out with you and your friends that you made from school. Hesitant at first at the idea of hanging out with others that weren't you and his family, you managed to convince him when Dick, Jason, and Tim got into one of their own brotherly spats, and Jason decided to start chasing the two around the house with a rag wet with a 'mysterious' substance.

— "Your local comrades quarters it is then." Damian muttered before quickly ushering you out the door with Alfred towing behind since you needed someone to drive you. Damian offered since he kept claiming he knew how, but Bruce still wasn't going for it.

— With your help, Damian actually learned to make friends with kids his own age. He developed hobbies and interests that had nothing to do with anything sharp or pointy (that didn't mean you weren't gonna booby trap your room still just in case).

— He even joined an art club at school and you both decided to enroll in a martial arts club together as well. It'd actually become quite the inside joke between you two. There was one guy in there, Carter, who swore he was the best fighter in the entire school and he could take any one of these 'runts' down, including you and Damian.

— Now, you were still learning and getting comfortable fighting from your lessons with your dad and brothers. When Carter decided to pick on you and Damian as the Wayne brats and challenged you both to a sparring match, boy he did not know what he was getting himself into. Especially when you and your brother looked at each other with the most mischievous evil smirks anyone had ever seen.

— When Bruce got a call from the school later that some parents were looking to try and sue him for the 'extensive harm' his kids did to their kid, he could only raise an eyebrow when you and Damian appeared in his office, smiling like you both were innocent angels.

— "See, Master Bruce. I told you if you'd given it some time, they'd grow on each other." Alfred said to him later that evening.

— Only Bruce was now more concerned than ever. When you and Damian basically hated each other, he only had to worry about the terror and havoc you two would unleash inside the manor. Now, that you were basically best buddies, he'd have to worry about inside and outside the house.

— "I'm gonna be meeting with my lawyers more frequently, aren't I Alfred?" Bruce asked.

— Alfred gave a small chuckle as he patted the man's shoulders. "Oh, Master Bruce, most certainly."

— The butler wasn't wrong.

— You and Damian became like a force that everyone was scared to cross. Even your own brothers were slightly afraid of the kind of shit you two could get into. You'd come up with the crazy schemes and ideas, mapping out any and all details while handling any technological stuff which you had gotten really good at considering the time you spent with Alfred in the Batcave monitoring missions. And, Damian would do the more physical acts required as well as sneaking and sleuthing around if need be.

— Bruce had a meeting with his attorneys at least once a week because of you two.

— You'd even developed your own sense of overprotectiveness over your older brother. Some guy in the art club Damian had joined at school decided to try and pick with him and messed up one of his paintings. Surprisingly, Damian was calm about it and didn't even yell or react at him. Just scoffed at the guy and called him pathetic.

— You did not have a similar reaction.

— When word got around the school and managed to reach your ears, you were for lack of a better word, feeling quite revengeful. The next day at school, that guy became the laughingstock of your entire class when a private photo mysteriously made its way into every student's locker in your grade.

— When Damian found out, he immediately confronted you about it, and you could only smile innocently while feigning ignorance.

— "Why, brother?! How could you even think to accuse me of such a vile act of one's breach of privacy."

— "Y/N..." Damian said.

— "Fine, it was me. But, you have to admit, it is quite a lovely picture. And besides, nobody messes with my brother except me." You smiled.

— Damian only gave a small smile, grabbing you to give you a noogie on the head before walking for the exit of the school to head home. He tried not to let such a small statement get him overly emotional since he'd never really had anyone before you and your family be so caring and defensive over him. Not even his mother.

— The older you two got, the more close you became. At one point, Dick even started to joke that if one of you had gotten involved in some stupid and even dangerous plot, it wouldn't be long before the other got involved as well.

— "You'd even given yourself the nickname of the Blood Brothers since you and Damian liked to remind your other siblings more than once who Bruce's actual kin was, especially Dick whenever he went on one of his tirades about being the first Robin blah blah blah...

— Tim did happen to point out your chosen name's disturbing similarity to one widely known supervillain to which you scoffed in response.

— "Oh please, Brother Blood wishes he had half the brains and looks me and Dami have. Isn't that right, bro?" You said turning to Damian holding out a fist bump.

— "I refuse to get involved in this."

— And given your bond with each other, it was of course all too expected that you would each get involved in each other's love lives. When Damian was sent away to Titans Tower to learn how to be part of a team, you were very pissed at Bruce since he was breaking up you and his team.

— Honestly, Bruce hadn't even considered that, but he was happy and looking forward to the much-needed break from his weekly meetings with his lawyers concerning his sons and their growing stack of attempted lawsuits.

— It was a shock to not only you but to Damian from how you knew when he returned from the tower on a visit, and you asked "Who is she," with your arms crossed and tapping your foot against the ground.

— From your daily calls and messages, you'd picked up quite fast that Damian was crushing on someone, you just didn't know who. You figured it may have been that Tara girl you heard had joined the team, who should consider herself lucky she succumbed to her own fate and not the one you'd planned for her after finding out what she did to your brother and his comrades.

— Superman and Wonder Woman were still campaigning to put you on the League's high-priority watch list after hearing and witnessing some of the things you got up to with and without your brother. So they and everyone else in the League who had the fortune (or misfortune) of meeting you had no qualms that whatever you planned for the blonde earth-powered girl, was nothing short of maniacal.

— When you found out it was Raven after your dad brought you along to Damian's surprise party at the Tower with the rest of the team, you managed to get a chance alone with the half-human, half-demon girl, exchanging some friendly banter and humor. You'd also jokingly (but also not jokingly) warned her that if she hurt your brother in any way shape or form, you'd give her a fate worse than anything her father could ever imagine.

— Weirdly enough, she smiled and gave you a pat on the shoulder.

— "I promise, you don't have to worry about anything from me. And, I can see now why he cares a lot about you. You both protect each other."

— To which you replied with a simple, "He's my brother." Nothing else needed to be said between the two of you. You both were aware of Damian's past, you more than Raven of course, so you knew Damian sometimes needed some extra care and love. You could clearly see that was something she had every intention of making sure he got.

— You approved.

— Now, if only you could get Damian to approve of you and Conner.

— Let's just say, neither your father nor your brothers were anywhere near please when they found out about you and the half-Kryptonian's relationship.

— Dick just couldn't fathom that both of his baby brothers were dating someone from the two teams he helped co-found.

— Jason didn't like that you were dating someone he couldn't really intimidate or threaten the way he wanted since the dude was a literal teen Superman.

— Tim was oddly okay with it at first. But, when you started abandoning him and your regular scheduled gaming sessions for your dates and hangouts with Conner, he was more than ever determined to take down the half-Kryptonian.

— Damian didn't like the idea of you with someone so much stronger than you and could hurt you very easily. To which you pointed out he was dating a half-demon whose father has more than once tried to take over the universe and she almost helped him in succeeding.

— "Not the point, little brother."

— You did have to warn your boyfriend though, because, unlike your other brothers with the exception of possibly Tim, Damian had his own hidden secret cache of Kryptonite for emergency if it was ever needed.

— How you knew?

— Well, after you and Conner announced your relationship, you noticed your father and brother consistently making trips to the vault where all the Kryptonite was stored. And, you once caught your dad making a smaller version of the 'special' jewelry he used to fight Superman that one time, which you figured had to be for Damian.

— "Oh come on! I don't see anyone walking around with crosses and holy water whenever Damian goes out with Raven. But, y'all are ready to pull out all the stops whenever Conner and I even look like we're about to hug!" You yelled at your family.

— Damian stepped forward, placing what was supposed to be a comforting hand on your shoulder.

— "I do apologize brother. But, you should really be blaming Father for this, since I did technically warn him what would happen if he made me a middle child.

— "He did." You heard your father's day from behind.

— Someone really needed to make a documentary about your life.

BONUS:

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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ljh-writing-blog · 1 year

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Batmom #2 - Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson was and is a force of nature. Brought to Bruce, and by extension yourself, as a child of only eight years old through suffering and death you felt yourself a kindred spirit. You were at Haley’s Circus that night, Bruce thought it would be a wonderful date. The night ended in tragedy, a stunt “gone wrong”. You only hoped the energies of the oldest Flying Graysons were at rest.

The worst part of the night was feeling everyone’s fear in the tent. Dick’s fear stood out to you, it was the strongest and you felt the immediate need to rid it from his small self. You didn’t hesitate to jump out of the stands and find him in the chaos. You made Bruce pull some strings so you could take him home, you didn’t care how but the boy was coming with you. You couldn’t, you wouldn’t, leave him alone to some foster facility for however long it would take to find him placement. You would convince Bruce to take him in, if he didn’t you’d find your own apartment and care for him yourself. Diana always wanted more girl time and you knew she loved kids. All these contingencies ran through your head as you held him close, picking him up and taking him out of the tent. Taking him away from the horror and blood that stained the tent that night.

Bruce wasn’t the best father, truthfully he wasn’t much of a father in the early years. Alfred had been a big help and you stepped up to fill the mother figure role in his life. You stopped fighting crime on the daily, only joining the battle field when absolutely necessary. You had a few shifts at the Watchtower weekly but made sure they were while Dick was at school. You refused to let him sit in his grief alone, it wasn’t healthy. At times you overwhelmed him, he was so full of desolation and rage your love made him sick. He reminded you constantly you weren’t his mother, “My mother is dead! You’re just an expensive wanna-be replacement!” His words damaged your heart at times but you never let it show, not to him at least. Alfred spent many nights baking and drinking tea with you while you both discussed the day’s events. Sometimes it was just a few tears you both pretended not to notice, others it was much more difficult. The first year had been the hardest for all of you.

You weren’t sure if Dick finding the Batcave’s Grandfather Clock entrance was the worst thing that ever happened to your family or the best: it brought your boys closer, you and Bruce started talking again, it allowed Dick to move past his anger and grief, it also allowed him to embrace his trapeze skills and think of them positively instead of the negative left behind. Your son becoming Robin was probably the best thing for his mental health at the time. But it also brought bruises, cuts, concussions, forged doctors notes, and small bouts of what Bruce called a “Napoleon Complex”. It brought pain and death right back to your doorstep in ways you never thought possible.

When Dick found out you were a superhero, with what he liked to refer to as magic, he went crazy. He demanded a talent show and to see you in your suit. You indulged if only to see his smiles, he could light up a room with his grin. Using your mutation to lift him in the air sure wasn’t what he was expecting but it was definitely cool. Once you donned your suit Dick recognized you, his next request filled you with dread. “Y/N your powers are so cool! Can you show me my deepest fear? It’d be really cool to know…” He began rambling as you felt a pit form in your stomach. You never want to use those parts of your powers on anyone you love, especially the boy you live for. Bruce, who had been watching your little fashion show, recognized you tensing up and took over the conversation. “That’s enough for today, Chum. Your mother has had a long day and she’s very tired.” It was the first time Dick hadn’t objected to you being referred to as his mother. That day started a new chapter for your family.

Dick Grayson is a force of nature but you couldn’t imagine your eldest son any other way.

#batboys #batman #batmom imagine #batmom reader #batmom x bruce wayne #batmom!reader #bruce wayne #dick grayson #child!dick grayson #batfam x batmom #bruce wayne x batmom #the batman #batfam x reader #batmom x justice league #batmom #bruce wayne x reader #scarlet witch batmom #batmom2

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ninaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa · 27 days

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Champagne problems

Charles Leclerc x reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀:language, drinking, crying, just a lot of sadness tbh..

————————

The season has come to an end, I couldn’t be more relieved. Charles won his third championship, i couldn’t be more relieved about that either.

Its been a tough couple of years for him, he’s been extremely busy. This year more than ever.. we started dating 6 years ago. From the start we had so many plans, so many things we were excited for. Those ideas of relaxing and spending long days in the sun together vanished into thin air the second he promised his father that he would sign with Ferarri. I don’t blame him, how could I ?

Charles was a man who made a promise to his passed father, it would be extremely selfish of me to bring it up. I honestly didn’t feel the need to, my life was perfect in every way. Charles was everything and more. He was caring, compassionate, funny, respectful and extremely romantic.

That brings us to today, the end of the season party. It was quite a formal gathering. With bejeweled cocktail dresses and champagne flowing.

Me and Charles walked in hand-in-hand. He was being nicer than normal, if even possible. We greeted a bunch of people, all of them congratulating Charles with huge smiles and compliments.

I settle down on a wooden chair with a white cushion, my little black dress with gold detailing working perfectly with the colour theme of the party. Carmen and Kika sit next to me, both of them staring at their boyfriends with big smiles. I take a moment to look around the boat, bustling crowds filled the deck, all of them crowding around Charles. He had won the Championship this year. It was his third, for the third year in a row. He had promised me we would start to settle after he reached his goal. We never did, always on the move and always making promises we couldn’t keep.

———— 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗮𝗴𝗼

“Charles you did not !” I scream, my hands covering my tear filled face. The man I would do anything for stood with a proud posture and a devastatingly beautiful smile on his face. I practically sprinted into his arms, his flannel riding up on my body and exposing my lace underwear.

Charles took me to his family’s lake house, the season was at its end and Ferarri was second on the leaderboard. He had decided to steer clear of the chaos and rather taken me away for a little vacation before Christmas with his family in December. I was over the moon at the thought of spending the whole of November in the cabin with him. What I was not expecting was him buying me a Chevy convertible. It was my dream car, I had brought it up a few times, all black with red leather seats. It was gorgeous, the interior being Ferarri red and the exterior being as black as the night sky. “Thank you Charles, I love it.” I say with a huge smile on my lips, staring deeply into his eyes, I only see my future.

“I love you, Y/n.”

————𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆

My mind goes foggy with all the memories of what we had, I almost don’t realize that Kika was tapping my leg. I blink a few times and smile at the stunning woman in front of me. “Y/n, are you alright? You look a little tense.” Kika was an amazing friend and I appreciated her throughout the years. I look down at her hand on my leg, her diamond ring glistened in the flashing lights of the yacht. Her and Pierre were engaged, the two being absolutely perfect for each other. “Yes, I am. Just excited to go home, is that bad ?” I was happy for Charles, but I was exhausted with this whole thing. I was with him every step of the way and I wasn’t complaining. I loved Charles, more than I have ever loved anyone, I gave up everything for him. My job, my friends back home, my family, in all honesty I gave up my whole life to be by his side. I regret it now, the guilt of leaving everyone and the job I had such a passion for, it was catching up to me. I did not matter beyond Charles and his social bubble. I made new friends and I had everything I could want. but it was all so bittersweet.

“Y/n!” I snap back into reality once more. “Fuck , i’m sorry Kika, I should probably go freshen up.” She gives me a sympathetic look, offering to go with me before I turn her down and make my way to the bathroom. I use the one by the master bedroom, as I know there would not be anyone. This isn’t my first time breaking down on this yacht. It’s actually been a tradition for the last three years. Sulking in the bathroom, my mascara smudged onto my inflamed cheeks. It happens every damn year.

This wasn’t what I wanted, nor was it what I deserved. I was stuck in a loop of race after race and party after party. Charles was a natural, this was his favorite way to pass the time. Noting else really mattered all that much. Except me, i guess. He showed me love and care that I have never experienced before. Even with the back lash i received daily. And not only from fans and supporters, but from friends and family members too. His close family and I were in a verg good place. His mum adored me and his brother and I got along very well. I felt comfortable and loved around them. It was the distant relatives and friends that had their opinions. It never bothered Charles, so much so that he didn’t even think to check if it maybe bothered me. It did, a tremendous amount, actually. But I was stuck in the same loop, for I don’t know how long. I couldn’t leave, but I couldn’t bare the thought of this routine going on for decades. My chevy has stood in a private parking garage for the last three years now, only been driven once when I took Charles along with me to pack up my dorm at med school, quitting that year and deciding to move in with Charles. I would have been a doctor by now, a surgeon actually.

I hear a bottle pop and have no doubt in my mind it’s the bottle of Champagne Charles had brought. I clean myself up and walk out of the bathroom, my tears dried and my hart heavy. As I turn the corner I run into Kika who looks like she’s waiting for me. “Y/n, what’s going on?” She has a very concerned look on her face, I smile at that, appreciating how much she cares. Her hand is once again gripping onto me, her ring taking my attention. “You think he’s going to?” she whispers, a slight frown on her face. That confused me, I thought she would be excited at the idea of me and Charles getting married. I’m not even sure I was. “I don’t kn- ”

“Y/n !” I look over Kika’s shoulder to see Charles on his way over. “I’ve been looking all over for you, where have you been love ?” He exclaims gently, his hand in my lower waist. I instantly feel safe in his embrace, like the world stopped for a second and allowed me to take a deep breath. Kika squeezed my arms and walked over to her fiancé. “Sorry, I was with Kika.” I say hazy. I really needed to get my shit together.

“no need to apologize. Cmon, Arthur wants to do shots.”

I was a few drinks deep when the music switched to a slow song, Charles immediately found me, his arms wrapping around my waist. his head rests gently against the side of my temple, the same temple that was pounding and messing with my ability to stay in the present. “I love you so fucking much Y/n. You do know that right?” Charles pours his heart out. I dropped his hand that was so tightly held in mine. I pinch my eyes shut, finding Pascal looking at me with sorrow filled eyes. I was so fucking confused why people kept looking at me like that.

So i chose to ignore it, I leaned back, looking into Charles’s captivating eyes. “I do, I love you more than anything Charlie.” I smile at him. He kisses me, the kiss is passionate and soft. It almost felt as if I would never see him again. When my eyes opened I looked around and saw that it was only me and Charles left on the dance floor, everyone gathered around us. I frown, looking back at Pascal and Kika they both have worried expressions on their faces, Arthur is taking back glass after glass, with the same panicked expression on his face. But he’s not looking at me, he’s looking behind me. I turn around to be met with the Lorenzo on the other side of the crowd. His expression also mirroring the rest. Fingertips graze my leg and I look down to a hopeful Charles with his mother’s ring in his hands. The world stops, not to give me a deep breath, but to suffocate me. I felt breathless and light headed. It was dead silent, the only sound being Arthur putting the now empty bottle of Dom Perignon on the glass table.

“Y/n you are everything. I have never in my whole life been this inlove, nor have I ever imagined an angel like you to ever grace me with your presence. I cannot imagine myself without yo- ”

“Charles.” I whisper, my breath caught in my throat and my eyes watering. Everything burned, the lights the feeling of his fingers still gripping my leg, the sting in my heart.

“Y/n let me finish, baby. It would be an honor to live up to this speech every day. So if I could just finish it?” He smiles at me. Down on one knee and love circulating in both eyes.

“Charles I-” I choke on my words. “Okay I understand my love, this is a big thing, I’ll skip my shitty speech for now.” I wanted to say something but I felt as if i was going to fall faint right here and die. “Y/n I have loved you for a long time now, and I intend to do so until I die.”

“Will you marry me?”

Complete and utter silence, throughout the whole boat, nobody made a sound. The problem was, I didn’t either.

Charles looked at me with years and years of adoration and love and my heart broke a little more every second I stood still.

“No.” I whisper.

Gasps all around the room, it’s all I could hear. Kika let out a big sigh and Pascal let out a big sob. I could hear curse words being thrown and Charles’s manager saying how I could have been such a lovely bride. I next hear Carlos reply “what a shame she’s fucked in the head.”

“Fuck. I- I’m sorry, I can’t.” I sigh and sob at the same time, hyperventilating almost. Charles dropped the ring out of shock, and I could see his heart was also on the ground, although it was shattered.

I turn away in a complete state and rush towards the street. Quickly climbing into a cab and going home. I pack all the things I could need for a few days before taking off on the next train to God knows where. The train is silent and not a single person is awake. I look around the train, my phone ringing uncontrollably in my hand.

I take a seat next to an elderly woman, her window wide open. My phone goes through that same window about gen second later. As do all my worries. My heart has never hurt this much, but I have never in my life felt a weight quite this big being lifted off my shoulders.

I open my leather wallet and look at the picture of Charles tucked on the inside. That too goes out of the window.

••••••••

hope you enjoyed!

there won’t be a part 2 unless this story really takes off, but I doubt it ?

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 !!!!

#charles leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc x reader #chatles leclerc imagines #imagines #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #formula 1 #f1 imagine #arthur leclerc #pierre gasly #max verstappen #kika gomes #yacht girl #lando norris #f1 fic #ferarri

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loki-is-my-kink-awakening · 7 months

Text

Okay, I wanna talk about this scene and what it might mean for Loki and Mobius in S2.

Sure, they stood here so Loki could point at the panel showing all the Kangs fighting, and the full mural is meant to be the story of how the Time Keepers created order out of chaos, but what if it also means something else.

Let's look at Mobius first, then Loki.

Mobius POV

Mobius is standing with his back to a panel representing chaos and looking at one that represents order, showing the Time Keepers appearing as gods to shocked people below. Seems very religious and mythological, right?

"If you think too hard about where any of us came from, who we truly are, it sounds kinda ridiculous."

Mobius had always believed in order and that what the TVA were doing, ripping people from their lives, was necessary.

He also has previously likened Loki's origins, which is literal mythology in mcu form, as similar to his own experiences in the TVA.

What he isn't aware of is who exactly was behind the curtain or that all-out war is coming. That's something Loki reveals to Mobius, showing him the truth in his blindspot (the panel behind him).

Now, he knows the Time Keepers are fake, that he wasn't created by them. By this point in the episode, he's already acknowledged to B-15 that their gods are dead.

This revelation for Mobius feels pretty similar to how the truth was revealed to Loki in S1E1.

Mobius is also looking at a panicked Loki. He's seen him teary-eyed before, but not this distressed.

What Mobius sees before him is his fear, that Loki won't be able to escape the bonds of the sacred timeline, that he's doomed to die, and that pains him.

And one last thing. Loki is a god of mischief, and I can't help thinking about the comparison of a real god Mobius can see in front of him and the fake Time Keepers in the panel behind Loki.

Loki POV

Meanwhile, Loki is looking at chaos that scares him. The panel has several Kangs all fighting for supremacy in a pose that was similar to that shown by Kang in S1E6.

Loki is the god of mischief, who thrives on chaos, and yet the prospect of all these Kangs frightens him.

War is the only thing preoccuping his mind. It's the only thing he can see.

But behind him are the Time Keepers, and we know they are fake, but what if the truth Loki has to face is that while he no longer wants a throne, he might need to take it to save the people he cares for, his found family.

Loki is looking at Mobius, who's concerned about him and a little rattled, but ultimately keeping his calm. I think this calm is likely to fracture the more season 2 progresses.

What Loki sees before him is his fear, that Mobius will be caught up in the war and lost to him. It's a reminder of what's at stake if he doesn't restore order. And he's already experienced a Mobius who didn't know him, and that was heartbreaking.

What this scene also does is continue both Loki and Mobius being mirrors for each other, revealing truth and reflecting one another.

They are similar to each other in many ways. We saw glimpses of Mobius embracing chaos in S1, which I always love to see. And I can't wait to see more of these soulmates. They are important to one another.

Thanks to @lgwilt and @insert-witty-user-name-here for discussing this theory with me. I added in your glorious insights because what you said really resonated with me.

And I haven't even spoken about all the touching, that Mobius doesn't want to lose Loki and Loki is just so desperate to get to Mobius, but I think other people have covered that.

And just a wee note to everyone that this is just me theorising, and usually my theories do not happen, but I couldn't help pondering if this mural had an even deeper meaning. I just like theorising for fun.

Hopefully, the above made some sort of sense.

#loki series #loki #mobius #lokius #loki tv #loki show #loki s2 #loki season 2 #loki x mobius #wowki #loki theory #loki spoilers #not that this necessarily happens but for those who don't want to see any theories too

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soapsilly · 3 months

Text

Reunion - Roronoa Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Spoilers for One Piece (?)

Summary: It's been five years since Zoro had to leave (Y/N) and their son. Five years since he promised he'd come back for them. Now that they finally found the One Piece, will Zoro be able to choose between life as a pirate and his young family?

A/N: This is Part 3 for Betrayal and Redemption, so read that first... or don't. Who am I to tell you anything?

Requests are closed

************************************************************************

Zoro swore under his breath as he turned the corner and found himself on the same market place yet again. It's been five years since he's last been on this damn island but nothing about this fucking village seemed familiar to him. He's been wandering around for what felt like an eternity but realistically couldn't have been more than two hours or so. The townspeople were muttering and mumbling behind their hands once they spotted him. He didn't know if they recognized him from when him and his crew saved the village five years ago or if they had seen his wanted poster in the newspapers. Ever since the Straw Hats finally found the One Piece and made Luffy Pirate King, there hasn't been an issue without their faces plastered on the cover page.

After he rounded the same corner for yet another time, he had to admit defeat. Zoro just knew, (Y/N) would've found his abymsal sense of direction hilarious, if she were there. Often she would have him lead the way just to see where they'd end up, knowing full well that they'd been walking in the wrong direction all along. The memory triggered a familiar pain in his chest - one that would always appear whenever he thought about the girl he had to leave behind. He had promised to come back for her. Her and their son... Sora.

Zoro had thought a lot about them these last couple of years. The boy that was barely even a toddler when he last saw them - and yet clearly looked so much like him already - must've been around seven years now. Would he remember him? Could he forgive his father for leaving him and his mother behind? Did (Y/N) even want him to return? It's been so many years with no contact. Maybe she decided to finally move on. These were the thoughts that tormented Zoro these past couple of months during night watches. After they found the One Piece he wanted nothing more than to return to (Y/N) as soon as possible but the journey was long - many opportunities for his mind to wander.

"Hey, Zoro", Nami pulled him from his thoughts. The swordsman only grunted in return.

"I bet you're glad to finally see (Y/N) again after all those years, huh?", the navigator continued. She could sense the nervousness that surrounded her friend these last couple of weeks. She didn't blame him, she'd be nervous aswell.

"I guess", the mosshead has never been a man of many words.

"Do you miss her?", Nami's voice was quiet but he could hear her clearly. The Thousand Sunny was almost silent during those night hours - a stark contrast to it's chaotic state during the day.

Zoro didn't answer at first. Of course he missed her. He missed her everyday. Especially at night, when the two of them would sit down with (Y/N)'s homemade liquor to talk about anything and everything. It was then that Zoro got to truly open up.

"I do, you know?", Nami continued when she sensed the swordfighters struggles to find the right words.

"What if - what if I took to long?", Zoro turned to face the red-head. Talking about his feelings made him uncomfortable but Nami was (Y/N)'s friend. If anybody could help him tame the chaos in his mind it would be her.

The woman knew exactly what he was referring to. No need to elaborate. A sympathetic expression took over her features.

"Nonsense, you know her. It's (Y/N). I doubted her once... I won't make the same mistake twice. Trust me she waited", Nami didn't enjoy thinking back to way she treated her friend back then when she thought that (Y/N) had betrayed the crew during those two years they were separated. She knew, (Y/N) told her not to worry about it - that she'd have acted the same way - but the memories still hurt. Nami was determined to trust her friend this time around. They were Nakama after all...

Zoro sent her a nod but he wasn't quite sure if he actually believed what the red-head said or if he was only trying to convince himself.

"Oi, you two!", Zoro had enough of wandering around the market place, "I'm looking for uh - the witch?"

Their eyes widened when the two men realized who was standing before them.

"Oh, you're that Pirate Hunter dude! You found the One Piece", one of them answered.

"Yes, yes! Roronoa Zuko or something", the other guy agreed.

Zoro had to take a deep breath as to not lose his temper.

"The witch. Where can I find her?", he spoke through gritted teeth.

"Oh, yeah", one of them drawled out, "I'm sorry, man, but she died - like what? A few years back?"

Zoro couldn't hear a word from the bickering that followed about whether it's been two or three years already. All he could think about was the fact that he came too late. He felt panic rise up in his chest. This wasn't a situation he could fight his way out of. And what about their son? Where was he and who took care of him? He never felt so helpless before. There were a thousand thoughts rushing through his head - until a new voice interrupted his strings of thought.

"No, you idiots! He's looking for my mom", Zoro's eyes grew wide when he saw whom the voice belonged to. There was no doubt that the little boy before them was his son. He had the same green hair, the same lopsided grin - albeit a few of his teeth missing. Zoro felt like his head was spinning. He didn't know what to feel. Relief because apparently (Y/N) was well? Happiness? Fear? He had thought about this moments so many times but nothing could have actually prepared him for when it actually came to meeting his son. He had honestly relied on (Y/N) being there and guiding him through the situation but fate had some different plans for him that day. It was almost comical - how was he expected to handle these kind of situations when he couldn't even deal his own emotions most of the time.

"Right, right, right", one of the two men seemed to remember what the boy was talking about, "You mean (Y/N)! Oi, he means (Y/N)!"

Out of all the people Zoro could've asked, of course it had to be these two morons. He was just about to lose his temper, breathing heavy already, but his mini-me reminded him why he was even there to begin with. That didn't stop him from giving them the death glare as he followed Sora away from these two idiots, who by the looks of it didn't even notice it anyways as they were still deep in discussion about God knows what.

"They're idiots", the little boy's voice pulled Zoro out of his thoughts, "Mom's fine"

The swordsman noticed that the little guy didn't seem nervous at all. In fact, he started talking to Zoro as if he had known him his whole life.

"They were talking about Mim...", he continued. Zoro remembered the old hag that mentored (Y/N) during their initial two year separation. He met her briefly. She was old. Ancient even. His heart ached for his lover. He was glad that she had someone on this island. Some kind of support. He felt better knowing someone was there for her - that she wasn't alone. And still, the older woman was yet another person that left her to fend for herself. He knew his thoughts were merely a projections of his own guilty conscience. That it was actually him that left his girlfriend behind.

"We knew you'd come", the little boy happily babbled on as he led the way out of the village towards the edge of the forrest, "The others said you wouldn't come but Mom knew"

The little boy may have inherited his looks but Zoro noticed that his essence - the way he just happily talked and talked without a care in the world - was all (Y/N).

"Look!", the witch ran up to the swordsman and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him with her.

"What's going on? Who's hurt?", his free hand immediately found it's way to the swords that were hung closely by his hip.

"Huh? No one?", she scrunched up her face adorably, "Look what I found!"

Zoro could hear the excitement in her voice as she pulled him up to a meadow she had found while exploring the new island the Straw Hats stopped at. Her eyes marveled at all the flowers, plants and herbs that grew all over the place.

"Isn't it beautiful?", she turned to him wide a wide smile.

"Depends", Zoro grunted.

"On what?", her face fell. The mosshead noticed that cute little crease between her eyebrows that appeared whenever she was in deep thought or confused.

"Well, depends on how many of these plants could kill me"

"Most of them", she shrugged but couldn't help the happy laugh that left her lips, "Come on now"

With that she grabbed his hand again, already talking about what each plant could be used for, taking samples as she went, shoving them into the swordsman's arms so that he could carry them for her. Zoro didn't understand a word she was saying. He didn't mind though. He enjoyed her rambling about potions and balms.

"Hey! Are you even listening to me?"

Zoro smiled to himself as the memory played in his head.

"We're almost there", the little boy shouted over his shoulder.

And indeed, not even two minutes later (Y/N)'s little hut appeared before them. The mosshead noticed how similar to his lover the house looked. It was small. Whimsical. A plethora of flowers decorated the little gardenspace in the front. All in all a peaceful sight. But appearences can be deceptive. He knew that most of the plants were poisonous. No matter how beautiful they seemed, even a little dose could be deadly.

"Mommy!", the little boy yelled out as they approached the house, "Mommy, look!"

It wasn't even thirty seconds until the door to the hut swung open and (Y/N) hurried out, a dish rag clutched in one of her hands.

"What did you do now? Whatever it is that you caught, you better-", (Y/N) dropped the dish towel when her eyes fell onto the mosshead. Zoro's heart skipped several beats when he realized how close they were. All these years apart and yet he still felt like it was yesterday that the two of them kissed under the moonlight. She was beautiful. Eventhough she looked exhausted, she was clearly the girl he fell in love with. His (Y/N).

Sora excitedly ran up to his mother, squealing happily, "He's back! Look, Mommy. You were right. He came!"

(Y/N) patted his head - stroking the green hair - almost mechanical, her wide eyes remained on the swordsman. Her lips slightly parted as if she was trying to come up with something to say but struggling to find the words.

"Yes, love... I can see that", her voice was full of shock but she still did her best to sound excited for her son.

Zoro felt self-conscious. He didn't know what to do. Should he say something? Walk up to her? Would she even want that? He scolded himself. Why did he take a seven year old's word for it?

The mosshead was so busy with his thoughts that he almost didn't notice her walking up to him and practically flinging herself into his arms. Her head comfortably found it's place underneath his chin. Zoro got emotional as her scent filled his nose. For a moment they just stood there.

"I knew you'd come", he heard her whisper against his chest.

"Always", he answered as he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

When she looked up at him, he could see the tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. He was just about to wipe them away with his thumbs, when their son - their son - interrupted the moment together.

"Mommy, I found him", he smiled brightly as he squeezed himself between his parents' legs.

(Y/N) hastily wiped her tears away before clapping in her hands once. An excited smile present on her lips, "You're right, Honey! And I think we'll need to celebrate that!"

"A party?", the little boy looked up at her with bright eyes, "Can we - can we make a cake for dad?"

Dad... Zoro noticed how the green-headed boy's voice tripped over itself due to the sheer excitement. The swordsman blinked a few times at the mention of his new title. He felt a strange feeling in his stomach area. Of course, he was his dad. There was no doubt about that. And of course, he wanted to be - of course. But still it felt so strange being called that, being welcomed back with open arms like that. He felt (Y/N)'s eyes flicker over to him before turning back to the child.

"Well, I'm sure your father would much rather celebrate with a good bottle of rum... Here", she handed the little boy some bills, "go back into the village and buy him a nice bottle at Old Mickey's place, yes? And when you're back, we'll bake something nice anyways"

Zoro's eyes widened. Did she really sent their son to buy hard liquor for them?

"Yes, Mommy!", the little guy nodded enthusiastically and skipped away.

"Did you just sent our seven year old to buy alcohol? Who in their right mind would sell alcohol to a child?", the swordsman raised his brows.

The witch shrugged, "Hopefully no one. I mean, they know him 'round here but still. He's only seven", she grinned, "Besides, you know I have my own liquor. You didn't forget about that, did you?"

The concerned look on her face hit Zoro straight in the heart. How could she ever think that he'd forget just a single thing about her?

"Okay but... I still don't understand", he furrowed his brows, "Why did you sent him away then?"

"Of course, you don't", she started laughing as she grabbed his hand to guide him into the hut, "Sora is so happy that you're here. Haven't seen him like that since that one time Mim made him float through the air... You seemed overwhelmed though. Sorry that he found you first. Ever since I told him about how you guys found the One Piece he's been patroling the island for when you'd arrive. He can be pretty stubborn you know? Thought I'd give you some space..."

(Y/N) grew quiet towards the end when she noticed her rambling.

"You- you told him about me?", Zoro was shocked.

"Well, of couse", she looked at him with those eyes - those eyes that he couldn't resist, "We always read the newspaper together during breakfast, you know? He loves hearing about your adventures. He wants to be a swordsman just like you. Or a devil fruit user like Luffy... Or both"

The swordfighter's chest swole with pride as he imagined his son wanting to be just like him. Maybe he could teach him?

"I missed you", her voice was low. Merely a whisper.

"I missed you too", he answered thruthfully, "I thought about you everyday"

And with that he crashed his lips onto hers. For the first time in five years he felt at peace. Like a she was the missing piece that finally completed him again.

When they eventually separated, she smiled at him, her hands already tracing circles on his thighs.

"You know? There's another benefit of us having some alone time", she mumbled against his lips, already climbing on top of him, "The downside? We won't have long..."

"After five years?", he panted, "I won't last long anyways"

The giggle that followed was like music to his ears. This didn't play out like he had imagined but with them the things rarely do. At the moment he was just happy to be back with his love - how her lips felt against his own. How her hands roamed his body. How hot her skin felt against his.

************************************************************************

"That scar wasn't there last time I saw you", she traced the pale pink line that decorated his side.

He shrugged. Being the Pirate King's first mate came with it's price.

"Neither were those", he gestured towards the little pictures that were plastered all over her ribcage. Each tattoo symbolized one member of the crew. A straw hat, three katanas, a clementine - even a little violine that represented Brook.

"This way I had you with me... Wherever you guys may have been", her voice was quiet. Peaceful.

"I see...", Zoro thought about her words. He knew she chose to stay behind but it couldn't have been easy for her. The Straw Hats were her family and even after all those years, she never stopped thinking about them as such, "But did you really have to get one for the ero-cook, too?"

He pulled a face. He didn't like the thought of any part of that pervert being anywhere near (Y/N)'s naked body - even if it was just some ink.

She laughed at how whiny he sounded as he fixated on the little lighter that resembled the one Sanji would always carry around with himself.

"So I take it, the two of you have not become best buddies then?"

Her question was only met with a contemptuous snort.

"Where are they anyways?", she continued - more serious this time.

"I asked them to drop me off here. Wanted to have some time alone with you before they would come barging in causing chaos again"

"That's almost romantic", she smiled, "For your standards, I mean"

"Wow, thanks a lot", he sarcastically replied but secretly he loved the way she just seamlessly picked up where they left off. There was no awkwardness. No unfamiliarity.

"They'll join us here in a couple of days...", the mosshead continued.

"Wow, it's going to be so strange seeing them again", she spoke moreso to herself than to anyone in particular.

"You don't have to be nervous... You're still part of the crew", Zoro's hand reached out to play with (Y/N)'s hair. A glimmer of hurt flickered over her face. It wasn't even a second but the swordsman still noticed.

"Well, we'll see about that", she forced herself to sound cheerful, "For now, let's celebrate. We should get dressed, Sora could be back any time now"

And with that she pushed herself off the bed to get dressed. A sight Zoro could get used to. This domestic life. A little house. A family. He never wanted this, never dreamed of it. But right this moment, this didn't seem so bad.

(Y/N) was right, not long after the two of them got dressed they heard the happy voice of their son approaching from outside.

"Here, Mommy", the little boy pushed the bottle of rum, he was carrying towards his mother.

"What the-? Sora!", Zoro watched his girlfriend as she struggled to find the right words, "Did Old Mickey seriously sell you this?"

"Oh, no. Here!", Sora reached into his backpocket and handed his mother the bills back that she had given him before he left.

"I don't -", she took a deep breath to compose herself, "Sora, why do you have this?"

"Old Mickey didn't want to sell me the rum. He said I was too young. I told him it was for Dad but he wouldn't believe me!", the child sounded appalled.

"So, instead of just coming back and getting one of us - you just stole it?", his mother was in disbelief but the little boy just shrugged.

"Fuck, Sora. You know that's not okay! I thought I taught you better than this"

"Oi!", Zoro interjected, "Cut the boy some slack! At least he's honest"

"Honest?", the swordsman couldn't help but laugh at how shocked his girlfriend looked, "He just stole a bottle of rum, Zoro!"

"Yeah, well but he didn't keep the money though", Zoro grinned, "He could've said that he bought the alcohol and bag the money for himself. Besides, what did you expect? You told him to go buy some rum"

"Well, not my proudest moment as a parent I guess", she massaged the bridge of her nose.

The swordsman decided to walk over to the witch, hugging her and pressing a kiss against her temple.

"Don't sweat it. We can't all be perfect"

Her content smile quickly turned into a slap to the biceps once she registered the words her boyfriend just said. He wasn't usually known for joking around - sure a few sarcastic remarks directed at the cook but other than that, the mosshead was always rather serious.

"Guys, you'll never believe what I witnessed last night", Usopp excitedly told the rest of the crew during breakfast. It was the morning after (Y/N) and Zoro's first drunken night together. Neither of them joined the crew for breakfast, too hungover from the night before.

Immediately Chopper and Luffy were intrigued. Leaning forward eager to hear what their friend had to say.

"Last night when I had guard duty I saw Zoro with (Y/N) goofing around", Usopp revealed waiting for his friends to be as excited for the newly aquired information as he was but the desired reaction remained absent.

"So what? (Y/N) is always goofing around", Nami shrugged, popping another blueberry into her mouth.

"No! No,no. Zoro was goofing around too", Usopp insisted.

The breakfast table remaind silent for a few seconds before the whole crew broke out in laughter.

"Yeah sure", Sanji grinned, "When I made my rounds last night, the marimo and (Y/N)-san enjoyed a few drinks together. Not that that alcoholic could distinguish a good wine from dishwater", he finished bitterly.

"Typical Usopp", Chopper agreed, hinting towards the snipers affinity towards bending the truth to make up the wildest stories.

"I mean it though", Usopp whined. Why wouldn't anybody believe him?, "They did impressions and everything! Zoro's impression of Sanji was actually pretty hilarious"

It took a few more rounds of convincing but slowly one after the other the Straw Hats started believeing the sniper.

"I knew she was a real witch... She cast a spell on him", Chopper whispered almost fearful of (Y/N)'s abilities.

************************************************************************

It was night and Zoro laid awake (Y/N) peacefully sleeping in his arms. It was a good day. Sora seemed to have alot of fun asking all kinds of questions about their adventures, fish-men and how to become a swordsman. So why couldn't he sleep?

He gently pushed (Y/N) off of him, hoping not to wake her, and got up to get some fresh air. It would only be a couple of days more until the rest of his crew would arrive. Zoro didn't know how he felt about that.

"Leaving already?", (Y/N)'s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"I tried not to wake you", Zoro knew his love was just teasing him.

"Well, you failed", she laughed as she walked up to him, hugging his biceps, "What's wrong with you? Do you already regret coming back for us?"

Zoro could still hear the smile in her voice but he knew her well enough to also hear the hint of genuine concern that swung along with it.

"Of course not!", the swordfighter was appaled, "You were all I could think about ever since finding the One Piece"

"What is it then?"

"I guess I feel guilty"

"Guilty? For what?"

"I know you said it was fine and that you made the decision yourself but all of this - raising Sora by yourself - it must've been so...", he struggled to find the words, "And - and... Sora! He's great and I missed so much. I just don't understand how - how ... How can you just forgive me?"

(Y/N) just listened to his word-vomit, letting him spill his feelings. It was rare that he said that many words without interruption - especially not with that deep of a meaning.

"Oh, Zoro...", the witch cooed, "You're thinking to much about all of this. It's really quite easy... There's nothing to forgive"

She shrugged. The mosshead tried to protest but she wouldn't have it, shutting him down immediately.

"There is nothing to forgive", she repeated this time more forcefully, "We are happy that you're here"

(Y/N) sent him a questioning look as if to ask if he understood her. A loving smile lit up her face when he finally nodded in return.

"Very good", she sighed, "And now let's get back to bed. Your son is a morning person"

************************************************************************

These last remaining days just flew by. Zoro enjoyed spending time with his little family and he was almost a little sad that their crew would disturb their peace.

"(Y/N)!", Luffy flung himself into the witch's arms, wrapping himself around her.

Her happy laugh filled the air.

"I'm so happy to see you all again", she grinned, "Congratulations! I guess I'm in the presence of royalty now"

(Y/N) was still busy greeting all of her friends when Nami spotted a certain green-haired boy hiding behind his mother's legs.

"As happy as I am to see you, (Y/N), where is my little nephew?", the navigator feigned.

The witch grinned, not being used to her son being timid.

"Guys, this is Sora. He's a big fan"

Nami crouched down, pulling the little boy into her chest and immediately peppering his face with kisses.

"Oooooh Nami-swaaaaan, you're so loving and kind~", Sanji was smitten with the way the red-head acted around the child.

Once Nami released Sora from her grasp, the cook leaned down holding out his hand for the little mosshead to shake.

"My name is Sanji and I'm-"

Sanji was interrupted by the little boy kicking him in the shin.

"Sora!", (Y/N) scolded her son.

Zoro couldn't hold back his laughter, patting his son on the shoulder to show his approval.

"Sanji, I'm so sorry!", the witch fussed over the cook.

"Like father like son, huh?", Sanji scowled at Zoro who still couldn't stop laughing.

"Yep", the swordsman had never been more proud in his life.

"Sora, apologize right this instant", the Straw Hats had never heard (Y/N) be this strict.

"C'mon, Babe! What happened? Out of anybody you instigated the most fights", Zoro was still laughing.

It was true. She always found the little fights her boyfriend and the cook would have hilarious. That's why she told her son about them during their bedtime stories but that didn't mean Sora could just do as he pleased.

"No fighting now", Nami interjected, "Sanji, make some food. We need to celebrate. The crew is finally back together"

Sanji did as he was told, happy to be of service. And he didn't disappoint. The meal he created was nothing short of a feast. There was more food than they could possibly eat - if it weren't for Luffy of course. Brook played some happy tunes. And (Y/N) felt at peace, it was just like back when she was still part of the crew. She was just getting to know Jinbei as she watched Sora dance arm in arm with Luffy, Chopper and Usopp, his legs dangling in the air. Her eyes wandered over to Zoro, who was enjoying a drink at the moment and she decided then and there to just let her mind rest for the night and worry about what's to come once the party was over.

************************************************************************

It's been a few days since (Y/N) and her son joined the Straw Hats on the Thousand Sunny. Sora didn't leave Zoro's side even once. The little boy loved watching his father practice and even begged him to teach him some. Zoro didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he seemed to enjoy spending time with his son just as much. Seeing the two people she loved most - being with her nakama again - all of this felt right. This made it all the more tragic when Nami anounced they'd have to leave soon.

"Great! (Y/N), go get your stuff. Sanji and Franky can help you carry everything", Luffy sounded happy, "Sora can stay here on the ship with us while you do that"

It was Sabaody all over again. Five years ago (Y/N) had to have the same conversation with her crew. She knew Zoro had obligations as Luffy's first mate, so she tried to savour their time together while it lasted. Maybe he'd visit them every couple of years - at least she hoped he would for Sora's sake. Her heart ached as she thought about the little boy. He loved his father so much. Losing him now would devastate him. (Y/N) tried to ignore the fact that she felt the same way.

She sighed, "Luffy... A pirate ship is still no place for a child. Especially now that you are pirate king. You've got a target on your back. All of you"

As if on command all of the Straw Hats yelled some kind of suggestion or protest - even Sora pleaded for his mother to reconsider.

The witch leaned down to be on eye-level with her son, taking both of his hands in her own, "I'm so sorry, Honey... but I promise they can visit us anytime. They found us once... They'll find us again"

She tried to sound cheerful so that her son didn't notice how hard this was for her but she could feel the tears forming already.

"No!", Sora screamed, "I want to be a pirate. Just like Dad!"

Before (Y/N) could answer, Luffy interjected.

"That's a great idea! I was seven when I started my pirate training!"

"But that's not the same!", (Y/N) had never raised her voice at Luffy before so when she realized her yelling she took a deep breath to calm herself, "Luffy, you were a devil fruit user already. Your grandfather is Garp and you spent a significant amount of time with Shanks. Sora is... just a child"

The crew was quiet as (Y/N) unloaded all her frustrations.

"Listen, I was so happy to see you again but I'm not part of your crew anymore and I haven't been for a long time. All those things you've accomplished - everything you've done - I took no part in it. These last couple of days were special but I'm need to take care of my family"

"But we are your family", Nami pleaded. She could only try to imagine how (Y/N) must feel. She knew her well. She knew that (Y/N) wanted to stay. She knew she would never ask Zoro to leave the crew for them because (Y/N) knew that Zoro would do so without hesitation. He loved her more than anything. Anyone could see that. But Nami also knew that (Y/N) was scared.

"I'm sorry...", the other woman shook her head, signaling for her son to say goodbye to the crew.

"Enough", Zoro had been quiet during most of the discussion but he had heard enough.

(Y/N)'s eyes were wide as she stared at her lover.

"I accepted your decision five years ago. I understood that it wasn't safe. I got stronger. We all did. We found the One Piece and made Luffy pirate king. I trained day and night to become the best. The strongest. And then I returned to you. I came back. I will not lose you yet again. Do you hear me?", he sounded almost angry, "I love you more than anything. You and our son. I love that he has your personality. I love that he wants to become a swordfighter just like me. You are not leaving and that's it"

"Zoro...", (Y/N) sighed.

"No! Just no. We can protect you. There's a fight? Fine! We'll fight, you'll go below deck and stay there with Sora until the coast is clear. What about school? I know you're going to ask. You are smart. So is Robin. You can teach him. Fuck, even Chopper can"

(Y/N) could see Robin nodding from where she was standing.

"Zoro-"

"No!", he wasn't finished, "What do you want me to do? Stay with you? Leave the crew? I will... Just say a word and I will"

The witch marched over to where the mosshead was getting increasingly more desperate by the minute. Once she reached him she put her hands on either side of her face.

"Zoro!", she almost yelled.

"What?"

"We'll stay"

The whole crew errupted in cheers as Zoro grabbed her by the waist, spinning her around, pressing a deep kiss on her lips. (Y/N) squealed in surprise - not only by his sudden movement but also because it was the first time that he had initiated closeness between the two of them when other people were around.

"But I swear, if anything happens to us, I'll curse you", she giggled once he sat her down on the ground again.

"I would never let that happen", he assured her.

(Y/N) knew things wouldn't be easy but they were her family and she trusted them. It's been years since she felt like she truly belonged somewhere but seeing her son so happy, she knew she made the right decision.

************************************************************************

Epilogue

Zoro had meanwhile turned towards his mini-me, who couldn't even believe his luck.

"Oi, Sora! Your training starts tomorrow"

#roronoa zoro x reader #one piece imagine #roronoa zoro imagine #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro imagine #one piece x reader #one piece

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animehideout · 4 months

Text

Your MBTI, Your Relationship With JJK Characters Part 1

a/n: I had this random idea, describing what relationship you would have with JJK Characters depending on your MBTI, in my opinion ofc, so it's not necessarily true!! 🫶🏻

Requests are open 💌

( ISFJ + INTJ )

PART 2

ISFJ:

Yuuji Itadori = Boyfriend

Like the sun and the moon, you both complete each other. He consistently admires your dedication to protect him and prioritize his well-being. He's the type who cares for others more than himself so finding someone ( You ) who places him first, warms his heart and makes him feel special. He often encourages you to step out of your comfort zone. Yuuji brings enthusiasm that lights up your world, and infuses joy into your life. In return, you bring peace and tranquility and comfort (100% your relationship would last forever).

Megumi Fushiguro = Soulmate.

Both of you share many qualities making you almost identical. The most prominent one is your dedication to protect others and loved ones and that what drew you closer and formed your soulmate bond. Your bond is full of strong sense of loyalty support and commitment, always having each other's backs. Together you maintain a balanced atmosphere. Your bond remains entirely platonic.

Choso Kamo = Bestfriend

He considers you as a family member. You don't need words to understand each other, you spend a lot of time together so it became easy for you to read each other like an open book. Comfortable silence is cherished given your shared quiet nature. You always make sure to make each other feel included in everything whether they are family gatherings or normal hangouts. You always stand by each other through highs and lows. You serve as his emotional support and you find in him a thoughtful listener. Fostering a sense of balance in your relationship.

Mahito = Enemy

Both of you are extreme opposites, you live to protect and he lives to kill. You have an intense and hostile relationship. Mahito always has to provoke and trigger you somehow targeting your loved ones. He craves violence and he thinks you're the best opponent to have a brutal duel with. Your fights are always driven by hatred from your side and amusement from Mahito's side. Both of you always try to sabotage each other's efforts, you strive to maintain a safe environment and Mahito works on creating constant chaos tension and threat.

INTJ:

Geto Suguru = Boyfriend

Suguru is an INTJ himself, so it's like finding your other half. You have a unique and intellectual dynamics. Your relationship built on shared interests and goals and mutual appreciation of each other's qualities. Despite being independent and self-reliant you managed to create a strong bond based on encouragement, pushing each other forward to reach your goals.

Ryomen Sukuna = Enemy

You and Sukuna are alike but you lead the good side while he leads the dark side. He takes the whole rivalry thing personal, as much as he hates you and tries to kill you whenever he grasps the chance he still has a lot of respect for you. In fights both you and Sukuna always try to assert dominance. Whenever you are in the same place everyone around can feel the suffocating tension making everyone feel and unsafe. You share the same qualities however you use them to help people and Sukuna uses them to break people.

Yuta Okkotsu = Ex-boyfriend

INTJ's logical and rational thinking clashes with Yuta's emotional needs he is an emotionally dependent person who inserts feelings most of the time almost in everything. But you always depend on the power of mind overshadowing your emotions. The clash of needs results in misunderstanding leading you to break up but you're still good friends though.

Megumi Fushiguro = Bestfriend

You are the quiet and composed duo. Both of you enjoy each other's presence silently, while sitting in a comfortable silence. When you are in the mood for a discussion you often engage in intellectual chats. You enjoy staying inside doing indoor activities like reading or cooking. Hanging out together is a free therapy for both of you.

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youraverageaemondsimp · 6 months

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DÉPAYSEMENT // x.

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none, fluff, slight angst? nothing much really, alys rivers plotline slay + not proofread!

A/N: SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT IK IT'S BEEN A MONTH SINCE I UPDATED THIS BUT I WAS SO BUSY 😭😭

<- prev // next ->

masterlist.

Alys Rivers, a wet nurse and a bastard of the house strong, was all she was ever known for. Her 'family' had seen her as more of a pest since she was young, never treating her decently, and her life became even more difficult with the passing of her mother.

However, Alys had visions.

She sees much and more.

The dreams and visions that came to Alys had always been true, it was a power she had, the sight of the future, predicting things that would happen.

She had seen how her house would fall to a Targaryen prince, but he would spare only her, take a keen interest in her, she saw him in the fire used to cook supper, in the water puddles that remained when it rained heavily. Visions of him and herself, together.

However, those visions changed drastically in recent days, no more was she able to see him, he did not appear in her dreams anymore, and the only time he did, he appeared to be with someone else.

Alys cried that night, in desperation, wanting to be set free from her house, but also be alive and her only salvation was Aemond Targaryen who has appeared to have done that in her visions, yet now all hope seems lost.

She watched the skies for many days, wondering if he'd come on his dragon, wishing to spot a huge beast in the sky, but it did not happen, and so she gave up.

Until there was chaos.

He was here.

She ran outside the hiding place, and spotted him, in all his glory, armor clinging to his body with the blood of her family members on them, if she could even call them that. He commanded no one to be spared, every child, bastard, woman, old man, to be killed, to end the official house of strong end.

He felt a burning gaze on his back, and when he turned to look, he lost his breath.

Emerald green eyes, looking at him.

She appeared young, her long dark hair falling perfectly on either side of her face, flowing down graciously as she stood there in all her glory.

His heart wrenched at the sight of her.

“What's your name.” he asks and she doesn't look away, “Alys rivers.”

It suddenly felt as if cold water was poured all over him, and he snapped out of his daze, the warm feeling inside his chest disappearing immediately when his thoughts travelled to you.

His gaze became cold, and he grew his sword, yet the way she stood there, not fearing him, but instead looking at him longingly and it couldn't make him hurt her.

She was his lover.

Be it in another life.

It doesn't change the fact that he had possibly loved her.

But he doesn't love her in this life.

He loves you.

He takes a deep breath, “Leave before the guards find you.” he says, tone final and she looks at him wide eyed, “I am sparing you, my guards won't, it's best if you run away now.” he speaks once more and Alys is shocked.

He's sparing her.

Setting her free, without killing her.

She didn't need to hear it again, before she took off, clinging onto her skirts as she ran, far away.

He watched her frame become smaller and smaller, his heart feeling light, a smile winding on his lips as he realised that all she ever wanted to be was free. He shook his head, finishing the task at hand.

He could not wait to return to you, tell you about everything that happened, and you would be there listening to him like you always did, he did not know why but somewhere deep down in his heart he felt as if he was betraying Alys, though he doesn't know her.

Did she really bewitch him in his alternate life? Or did he just fall for her, because of her bravery? He couldn't tell, but he knew for sure that it wasn't the first option, otherwise she would've bewitched him too now, making him fall for her, but she didn't.

He wrote letters to you while he was at harrenhal, seizing it from the blacks completely, he has to win this war, for the sake of the realm, so that the targaryens can prosper and protect the realm as it was Aegon's dream.

It had been ten days since then.

The rain was pouring heavily, and you were in the chambers of your red keep, watching the sky as the lightning flashed and the thunder roared, you wondered if Aemond would be able to return safely, praying to the gods to keep him safe, asking the crone to provide him with wisdom and guide him, asking the father to protect him, and the smith to help him through his battles.

Spending time with Alicent had improved your prayers, she would visit you to keep you company, take you to the sept with her and she would talk passionately about the gods and her faith in them.

“Whenever I pray, I feel at peace, as if I am with my mother all over again, she would often bring me to the sept to pray, I miss her, a lot.” she said that once.

And since then you often accompanied her.

You watched as the skies show no signs of clearing up and you sighed heavily to yourself, going over to the bed and propping down on it, curling up into a ball at the thought of Aemond not showing any signs of returning.

Aemond had written you letters, but he never went into explicit detail on what happened between him and alys, just briefly saying that he spared her and you knew it meant that he let her go, but the paranoia in the back of your mind kept chipping at your sanity, telling you that he'd probably taken her as a bedmate. Like he was meant to.

But then you heard a loud dragon roar in the distance, which made you get up from the bed and rush to the window again.

And there she was, vhagar, undoubtedly with Aemond atop her, travelling through the rain.

He had returned like he promised.

You waited patiently, as it would probably take a while for him to arrive back in the keep, half an hour or so, all of your paranoia went away upon his arrival, you knew that he would never betray you like that.

You heard the chamber doors open and you looked to see Aemond who was drenched from the rain, breathing heavily as he probably ran from there, you immediately went to him and hugged him, not caring if the water got on you.

You took in his scent, he smelled just like how mud would smell when it would first rain, the pleasant and earthly smell he had calmed you, he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you close.

“I missed you.” you pull away and tell him and he holds your cheek lovingly, “I missed you too.” he murmurs before joining his lips with yours in a passionate kiss.

Your hands on his chest as he holds your face gently, lips moving against one another, he pours all his love into the kiss, his other hand grabbing you by the waist to push you even more closer to him, pulling you flush against his body.

He pulls away to catch his breath, caressing your cheek and you lean into it, “What happened to Alys?” you ask and he looks away, “I spared her, and she left.” he says and pulls himself away from you completely, removing his drenched leather coat and placing it on the chair nearby.

You put your hand on his shoulder and he looks at you, “I- I wasn't able to kill her, I'm sorry.” he apologizes and you furrow your eyebrows, confused why he was apologizing, “Aemond, I didn't want you to kill her, just not to betray me, and it's completely okay if you spared her, you did love her in another life.” you reassure him and he smiles.

“I guess. When I looked at her- I wasn't able to bring myself to kill her, she was there, standing all brave in front of me, not scared. As if she knew that i would arrive.” he sighs, “She was said to have visions.” you reply, tilting your head and he looks at you.

“My Alys?” he questions

Silence falls between you both and your hand drops from his shoulder, and that's when he realised what he said, and the sad smile you gave him broke his heart further, “Yes, your Alys.” you look away.

“Shit- I'm sorry, I do not know why I said that.” he apologizes, immediately grabbing your face to make you look at him and you looked into his eye, he genuinely seemed sorry, and you sighed, “It's fine.” you tell him before pulling yourself away from his touch.

He felt grief.

“When I was in my world, I visited a museum.” you start speaking suddenly, and he remains silent, “The Museum is a place where historical pieces are kept and preserved, so the history isn't forgotten, and it had all kinds of westeros history, including the targaryen dynasty.” you continue.

“When I first visited there, I saw your painting, felt my breath hitch and i was naive, not catching the signs that we were connected, at that moment. but that isn't why I'm telling you all this.” you sigh, not wanting to go off topic.

“When I revisited it, I went through everything even more carefully, and there it was, a valyrian steel necklace with emeralds, such a beautiful piece.” you tell him and turn to look at him. “It belonged to Alys.” you tell him and he's confused and before he can say something, you interrupt.

“You must be thinking 'How can a strong bastard have a necklace as valuable as that? Valyrian steel is rare.' Right?” you ask and he nods, “You gifted it to her.” you tell him and he is shocked. “You did love her a lot, I can only assume, and I can understand why you feel that way towards her in this life as well, but just please- please do not betray me.” your voice cracks at the end and he looks at you before coming close to you.

“I would never.” he presses a kiss to your forehead and then you smile at him, but then he purses his lips, “I wish you had not revealed that necklace thing.” he whispers and you look at him confused.

And that's when he pulls out a valyrian steel necklace with sapphires.

You try your best to hold back your laughter and he playfully glares at you, “Do not laugh.” he says and that's when you couldn't contain it anymore and start bursting into fits of giggles.

“Oh gods Aemond, the timing.” you giggle.

“Shut up.” he rolls his eye, and you give him a toothy smile before turning your back to him. “Well what are you waiting for?” you lift your hair up, indicating for him to put the necklace on you.

He does and hooks the two ends together, and the necklace looks so perfect.

You turn to look at him, “How is it?” you ask, caressing the sapphires on it gently. “Suits you.” he says embarrassed but you chuckle, “Aemond it's fine.” you tell him and he pouts slightly, “You know, I wish I gave it to you sooner before you revealed all of that.” he sighs.

“Yeah but you were too busy kissing me.” you tease and he smiles, “Your lips are too addicting.” he says, making you blush.

“I love you Ñuha rūklon (my flower) , I really do, I do not know what I would do without you.” he confesses and you give him a smile, and hold his cheek, “I love you too Aemond.” you press a kiss to his scar.

“Mother said we can progress our marriage in a moon's time.” He tells you with a smile on his face but your hand drops and you shake your head, “Zaldrīzes, I'm scared.” you tell him.

“Whatever for?” he asks

“For you, there is still one thing standing in our way, your uncle.” you say, looking him in the eye

“My uncle?” he questions and you nod.

“In your other life, you had died during the battle with your uncle, he mounted off caraxes, with the dark sister blade, and plunging down unto you and vhagar, shoving the blade into your remaining eye.” you trace his other eye and grips your hand, jaw twitching.

“Why is it that I never know peace, everything keeps happening one after another, I'm sick of this.” he tells you, and you just hug him, rubbing your hand up and down, reassuring him.

“It will be okay, Ñuha zaldrīzes, nyke gīmigon kesā sagon sȳz, syt emā se ānogar hen iā zaldrīzes, perzys isse aōha ānogar.” (My dragon, I know you will be fine, for you have the blood of a dragon, fire in your blood)

You reassure him, and he pulls away from the hug,

“Jaelan bisa naejot mōris, nyke sepār jaelagon iā biare ābrar lēda ao, ñuha rūklon.” (I want this to end, I just want a happy life with you, my flower.)

He sighs, closing his eye in displeasure wanting nothing but the war to end already, and you caress his face in a gentle manner, “Soon.” you mutter.

“Where will I fight him? Is he going to burn Kings Landing?” he asks you and you shake your head no, “God's eye.” you tell him and he tilts his head, “The lake?” he asks and you nod “Above it, in the skies, you later fall into the water with your dragon.” you tell him and he grits his teeth, and that's when you realise, you shouldn't be telling a very much alive person about his own death.

“Sorry.” you quickly apologize and he shakes his head, “It's fine, you are just trying to help me.” he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“A battle above God's eye huh? Interesting.”

———

TAGLIST ;

@sassysaxsolo @jaime-in-flannel @namelesslosers @itsabby15 @snh96 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonlightazriel @beado05 @ajourneytobeweightless @hannaeditzs @joyouart @nitimurinvetitumsposts @hufflepuff1700 @loserwithnofriends @noemienakamoto @smolnuggie911 @happinessinthebeing @teamstorybooks @drewstarkeyluver @nealeart @aelora-a @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @wxb-slingrr @lyn07 @anehkael @t0uch-starved-h0e @sleepy-time-dreamy @minthermie @diiickbrainn @backyardfolklore @dixieelocin @queenofshinigamis @blogg-100 @clairacassidy @lexwolfhale @persephonerinyes @nockerin @watercolorskyy @azaleapotterblack @heavenly1927 @americanprometheuss @cl-0-vr @alexa4040 @zillahvathek

BOLD IS WHO I CANNOT TAG, DM TO BE REMOVED.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond fanfiction #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #YAAS;Dépaysement #aemond kinslayer #aemond targaryen #aemond fic #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond the kinslayer

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an-idyllic-novelist · 1 year

Note

Hello! Saw your request was opened! Can I please request Record of Ragnarok Hades with Kanae Kocho!fem!reader headcanons? Thank you!

warning: spoilers from the manga, ooc.

Here it is! Sorry it took me so long to respond! Enjoy! :)

Let it be known that Persephone is and always will be Hades’ first love.

Eons ago, he adored the tiny goddess of spring, and she returned those feelings wholeheartedly. But not even this witty, charming woman was willingly to change her entire life for him. How could she? She told him. How could I do such a thing when Mother still needs me?

Demeter wanted to always be in control. Not just over the seasons in Midgard and Valhalla, but her daughter’s life as well. Persephone was too precious to the harvest goddess, and she would be damned to give her child’s hand in marriage to someone like himself.

A monster.

That is the truth behind the myth surrounding Hades and Persephone: a passionate, yet brief romance. When it was over, he had come to accept his fate; forever alone, watching over the underworld with an iron fist.

Just as a king would do.

His interest in women faded with time, preferring to exert his energy into making sure his domain would thrive and there wasn’t a single cog out of place in the palace. Everyone and everything has a role to play, and by doing so accordingly, things will fall into place. Never love.

When the Bifrost fell, demons began pouring through the fractured gates and into Valhalla, causing chaos everywhere. This catastrophic event gave rise to a fallen organization that had once combated them in Midgard many years ago, eradicating its progenitor and allowing the humans to finally live in peace. The Demon Slayer Corps.

With its resurrection came a proposal that Hades knew Kaguya Ubuyashiki would not refuse. His family had been overseeing the organization for over a thousand years, no one knew its works as intimately as he and his predecessors. There is no one else who fit for the job as the head of the Demon Slayer Corps….but Ubuyashiki would sooner disband the Hashiras than assemble them to work for someone who operated from behind the shadows.

The Hashiras, the kakushi, the medics….they were all his children. No one would control them like puppets. Hades’ respect for mortals was raised ever so slightly in that very moment with Kaguya Ubuyashiki in the wisteria gardens of his estate.

Once negotiations were established, the Demon Slayer Corps laid its foundation in Valhalla. To show a sign of goodwill towards their new ‘business partner’, the Ubuyashiki household elected a former Hashira to be the middle-man. Someone who will send information between both parties and coordinate meetings if needed.

That person is [First Name] Kocho, known by her companions as the Flower Hashira. Although she had been offered a place in the ranks, she sweetly declined and opted to help from the shadows than the front lines. She wanted to live a peaceful afterlife with her sisters, if that is possible.

In the beginning, Hades did not think much of the Flower Hashira beyond her excellent work ethic. She was professional, polite, and empathetic. This behavior was not extended towards him only, as he had initially expected due to being the lord of the underworld.

She respected his subordinates, greeting them with a beaming smile and wishing them to have a pleasant day or helping someone with their workload. She followed the orders given to her, though if she had any concerns, she did not hesitate to say something once she had given permission to speak instead of raising her voice in a meeting.

To his embarrassment, he fell for the Flower Hashira hard and quickly. Though…could someone blame him?

The question now is…how could even approach this lovely mortal woman when she is fiercely protected by her younger sisters and an army of highly-trained demon exterminators? More importantly, how to not let his damned brother Zeus find out about it. It’d be one thing if it was Poseidon because the tyrant of the oceans knew how to keep his mouth shut, but Valhalla’s supreme god? Not bloody likely, that damned gossipmonger.

#an idyllic novelist #record of ragnarok fluff #record of ragnorak #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv hades #ror hades #snv x reader #request #ror hades x reader #snv hades x reader #hades x reader headcanons

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harmonysanreads · 1 year

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in consideration of the sumeru love hexagon au: how about a darling who’s very much aware of this harem going on, so they take advantage of it, lol.

a darling who knows how much they yearn for them so they play along whilst feigning naivety. a darling who’ll laugh along, tease and joke back, send mixed signals—better yet, drop hints that darling might like them back. a darling who watches the chaos unfold as they see all these handsome bachelors fight for their hand. and the best part of it all? darling is being drowned in the riches of anything and everything they could ever want. so many gifts, they can safely provide for their family, especially for their busy father and to keep their family business afloat. perhaps even satiate some of their selfish needs. who’s to say no to a bunch of handsome men pining after you and spoiling you? we’re here for a good time not a loooonnnggg time, y’know?

who doesn’t love a cunning darling who uses their circumstances to their advantage?? <333 gaslighting and girlbossing 😜 we need more manipulative!darlings 😩

Yes, yes and YES. Delicious concept Anon :)

This works even better if you remember that Darling in this au has emotionally connected with the boys — moreover, they understand the intricacies of the human heart and brain. All those years of travelling has taught them much and better use all that experience now than never, right? It only takes a few conversations with that kind smile and empathetic tone for them to understand that these men would even kill each other for them. While that is scary, there's a twisted curiosity in the back of their mind, an urge to conduct this experiment ; to see if it is possible to mold the boys' obsession to their preference. And they succeed rather well.

Alhaitham and Cyno always pay ridiculous amounts when they visit the Tavern (even if all they order is a glass of water) and despite that, they never forget to send in bouquets of flowers and fancy gifts. They're hell-bent in charming you ; through their strength, their wealth and their influence. Whatever you so much as glance at is yours.

Keveh, while unable to show his devotion in the same way, should not be mistaken to be left behind. He's self-sacrificing, so fun to play with, so easy to break. You'll have the easiest time getting him on his knees, ready to do anything despite the consequences. Tighnari knows his sarcasm amuses you and to see your smile and hear your giggles, he'll incinerate the others with his words even if it means starting a literal war.

And then there's Wanderer, who's debatingly the most unhinged of the bunch. You have him so wrapped around your finger and he unapologetically wraps himself further. Gone are his pride as an ex-divine being and as a fearsome Harbinger ; now, he only takes orders from you.

It's so entertaining to stir them, how easily they get worked up if you even subtly take one's side over the others. They're so desperate for your approval you almost feel sorry.

I wonder though, as every action has an equal and opposite reaction — how would you handle it should the universe boomerang back all this manipulation and deceit back at you?

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

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Hey! could i get an imagine/oneshot fluff nsfw Daemon x fem!reader where they are married and have a very good, even envied relationship (they totally trust each other and are complicit in everything) but the reader is extremely (at exorbitant levels indeed) touch hungry and soooo needy for him, (but not in a bad way) with a lot of fluff please? (sorry for my english)

Ten & One

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: As the 11th child out of 14 kids, all you knew was chaos. The pros of being one of the youngest from such a big family meant most of the duties were already fulfilled by your elder siblings, and yet the unavoidable con of having to marry well still lingered. So one can only imagine how wild your house was when you first brought home the Targaryen prince as your husband. It's even worse now that the endless supply of children hailed them as their new playmate.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: the way I said this would be short 🤡, smut (impregnation kink, praise kink, choking, riding, oral [f receiving], vaginal penetration), trash talking older sisters (trust me), fem!reader, wife!reader, so so so many kids, soft!daemon, scared by kids!daemon HAHA, girl dad energy!daemon, reader has baby fever ig, flufffffffff, typos, etc.

A/N: YO IVE NEVER WRITTEN A REQUEST SO FAST I THINK yeah so this turned into.... whatever this is. it started out with when I thought of a conflict for the prompt, but then it spiraled like it always does. 🤠 I hope you like it though nonnie!!! And don't even worry about your english. i still cant spell after all the years ive spoken it. 😪 we bilinguals gotta stick together Here's kinda a part 2 to it "Mine"!!!!

In all his years of life, Daemon faced an immense volume of angst, treachery, death, and pain. He was far from a coward and did not even waver under the gaze of dragons. Yet as he sat in the middle of a what he realized was a sacrificing room, only then did he know true fear.

They were surrounding him, filthy, loud, concerning moist-

"Why the fuck are your hands wet, Silas?" Daemon cringed as he grabbed the red haired toddler's hand before it landed on his cheek.

One of the nannies present in the nursery looked to the other and exchanged knowing and amused looks.

One blonde haired boy began to cry as one brown haired boy yanked the toy from his hand. Daemon turns, instinctively needing to hush the child, that was until the brunette begins to cry as well, because a raven haired boy steals the toy he had stolen.

The nannies don't even need to go to the crying kids as one of the older children present, their sister, Daemon thinks, worked to calm them down.

The twin brother of the boy in Daemon's grip with the same burning red hair looked over to whom spoke from the other side of the room, halting his game with his much, much younger brother inside the crib he was not supposed to be in. Silas' lips purse into a soft thoughtful line, brows furrowing against each other as he looks to his small palms, "my hands are not wet, uncle!"

The boy says this in such a sweet tone, with not hint of malice, that Daemon actually feels bad for cursing.

Upon catching where the boy was, one of the nannies move to remove him from the crib. It's futile though, the moment the woman is distracted with the other children, he climbs right back in.

Silas' twin, Oliver, the one with the actual wet hand, vindicates his brother by slapping the prince's lips with his free one, "don't say bad words!"

Daemon looks at the child-he-did-not-know-the-name-of. His only thought was at least the hand that slapped to his face wasn't wet.

"Go to your mother," Daemon commands.

Had it been anyone else, it would have struck fear in them, but the child does not recognize the threat at all, especially not when three of his female cousins come running to Daemon, making the man himself reel back in some semblance of fear.

It seems they finally found the comb and clips they needed to fix his hair with.

Fuck.

"PRINCE UNCLE!" one girl excitedly screams, shooing Oliver from away from Daemon. Oliver gleefully runs towards his darker haired cousins and engage in combat with pillows.

One nanny promptly scolds them when feathers explode everywhere.

Rebecca, or so he thinks that's her name, grins as she makes her way to Daemon's lap. Her older sister, Annaliese (?), runs behind him. The youngest among the three, Constance, he knew, sat on the other side of his lap next to her cousin.

All at once, Rebecca throws her curly, golden-brown locks behind her, making it splash against Daemon's face, adding to injury when her elbow hits the prince' jaw. Annaliese rips at Daemon's scalp, undoing the tie he had in his own silver-white hair, causing a groan to leave his lips. Constance bounces up and down Daemon's lap as she wraps her small arms around his torso and looked up at him with an adoring look.

Verdict, Daemon didn't know what to feel.

Meanwhile.

"Oh, I honestly thought you'd have kids by now!" my eldest sister, Elise nudges me, "with how hotly your prince eyes you-"

"You should have come back pregnant," our fifth born sibling, Catherine, cuts in scolding me, "I already bragged about your fertile womb to those stupid, big mouthed ladies at court."

"Sissy!" I cry out.

"They fucking deserved to be put in their place," Catherine growls, "don't they know how many children our mother sired?" she scoffs, "the audacity of those rats to call you barren just because you haven't gotten pregnant after a few months of marriage."

Elise rolls her eyes, "they're just jealous because their breast milk comes out like sand."

My jaw drops.

"Their cunts are probably drier than sandpaper," Catherine says in agreement.

Our youngest sibling, Gretta, and the only other girl amongst our siblings, makes a face and tries to halt the vulgar insults by telling me, "they're probably just jealous you snagged the prince and they didn't."

"Probably?!" Elise quips.

Catherine throws her head back in laughter, "those smelly cunts are maddened by the very idea."

My older sisters begin to fall into more trash talk. Gretta and I exchange knowing looks and take each other's hand before slowly walking away.

After we flee, I decide I am wholly ready to leave my house and all it's chaos.

"My love, I'm ready to- oh," my perky voice falls in shock when I see my husband's hair tangled up in multiple clips and ribbons. It seems the sneaky girls also got their hands on a bit of rouge, judging by the smeared red on his face.

"AUNTIE LOOK!" Frances (Rebecca) cries in joy as she stood beside her captive, affectionately hugging him, "WE MADE PRINCE UNCLE SO PRETTY!"

"FRANCES, DON'T!" Bethany (Annaliese) scolds her younger sister when she messes up her work, "YOU'RE RUINING MY RIBBONNNNNSSSS!"

"Girls, please, your cousin is asleep!" Daemon scolds weakly, cradling the little girl, Constance, in his arms.

Frances looks down on her cousin, "Oh," she leans down, "prince uncle, I can carry her into the crib if you like."

Daemon turns to Frances, bringing a finger to her face, stroking her cheek sweetly, "I'll do that myself," he turns to the other girl, "if," he drags out, "my lady sets me free."

Bethany takes Daemon's hollow cheeks into her warm hands. Daemon smiles at the sight of her gleaming eyes.

My lips pull into a pout and my hear soars at their exchange.

Bethany, then nodding to herself, turns to Frances, "we did good, sister!"

Frances squeals yet again, nearly choking Daemon as she embraces him tightly.

"Frances!" I finally intervene, amused face falling into concern, "you will behead the poor man at this point."

Frances turns to the said man and releases him slowly. Daemon catches his breath, smiling at the girl, impressed by her strength. He finally stands and brings Constance to the occupied crib where Silas and a baby he-did-not-know were napping.

Frances runs over to me, arms snaking around my skirt as much as her little limbs could, "auntie," she coos, "will you be staying for supper?"

I steal a look at Daemon who is now rubbing his face, unknowingly ruining the rouge he must have forgot he had on. This promptly triggers Bethany as she falls to her knees and mourns her craft, shrieking so loudly she could probably wake the dead.

Daemon, in his panic, promptly picks the girl up, like one would a bag, then runs out of the room, as not to make trigger the rest of the kids into similar shrieks. I watch as Bethany dangles horizontally by her torso in my husband's strong arm as she weeps into her hands.

I finally turn back to Frances after Daemon leaves the room, "sorry, little bug. Your prince uncle and I have to leave now if we wish to return to our home before dark."

Frances pouts at that. I lean down and kiss the girl's nose before leaving her in the nursery with the rest of the kids and their nannies.

I find Daemon in the hall, handing his weeping niece to her teenage brother, who was biting his lip for dear life, trying to hold back his laughter. He makes sure not to forfeit a dirty look at Thomas, but that does not hinder the giggles that still manage to escape his mouth.

Thomas walks away, carrying his sister in her arms, shushing her as he giggled.

Daemon jolts, hand instinctively reaching out for the absent sword in his belt when I come up to him with a grin. He melts against my touch when my thumbs begin to wipe away the redness on his face.

He pulls me close to him by my waist, hands rubbing my back to soothe me, though he actually does so to soothe himself. I giggle, "you would make a fine father."

"They make me eager to pull out," he notes, closing his eyes.

I lightly slap his cheek in a scolding manner.

I was still not done evening out the color on his face when he pushes past me and crushes me into an exasperated embrace, "I thought once I wanted many children after growing up with only one brother," he strokes my hair as he bends down and nuzzles on my neck, "now I cannot even bare the idea of having one."

I scrunch my face in distaste, "I will not be left childless, husband," I begin to take notice of the paraphernalia in his hair, "but," I decide to tease, "if you will not have me, then I shall ma-"

He squeezes me in his arms, lifting me up, causing me to squeak, "who says I will not have you?"

"My prince," a servant calls, making me crane my neck over to whom spoke.

Daemon begrudedly pulls away, giving the man an uninterested expression with a voice that matches, "yes?"

The prince's face contort tighter in annoyance when the servant's face tenses in reaction to what he saw. I see how his lips fight back laughter and the whole incident make me break into a giggle.

Daemon is wholly unamused, and shows it to the servant boy in particular, "it will hurt no less if I slit your throat in this moment," he barks, stepping forward without hesitation.

The servant flinches back.

I bring my hand up to his chest, giving him an annoyed look, "Daemon please."

He clenches his jaw and grips his hands but does not take another step.

"The boat is ready for you and your lady wife," the servant quickly tells, promptly bowing then rushing away.

"You should have let me bruised him at least," Daemon says scornfully.

I roll my eyes at his pouty face, "come now," I say working on removing the clips in his hair, "we must leave before Bethany sees your hair without her embellishments."

Daemon's brows knit as he looks down on me, "who's Bethany?"

The moment we arrive to our home, I finally feel the effects of entertaining the many members of my house the whole day.

I am unbelievably tired when I finally lie in bed in my favorite night gown. I am in fact too tired to even rise from my place and pull the covers over me.

"Pretty girl," I hear him before I see him. In fact I feel his hand climbing up my thigh before I see his face.

I lift my head up along with a brow as Daemon climbs up next to me only in his breeches. I lick my lips at the sight of his exposed skin and clean face. His mouth meets the skin beneath his hands.

"I thought you were exhausted, husband?"

He only hums as he positions himself between my legs, "never too tired for a good fuck, wife."

I allow my head to fall back on the bed as I laugh. I encourage him to do as he pleases when my hand scratches lightly at the roots of his freshly washed hair. Daemon kisses my supple flesh as he lifts my thighs over his shoulders.

He takes his time teasing me, lips gnawing at my skin. I release a sigh and rest my hands to my side, "you know my sisters were cross that I was not pregnant."

He chuckles, pushing my short skirt up, "I'm sure they were."

I moan when his lips meet my core. My body ignites after this.

I grip at the sheets when I feel his tongue dart out. I let out a breath, basking in the sensation. A thought however lands in my head and I cannot stop from asking it, "do you think perhaps something is a matter?"

Daemon stills, head rising from where it was tucked.

I, myself, rise on my elbows and pout, the expression further concerns the face between my legs. It however fades once I say, "maybe we're doing something wrong when we share company."

Daemon rolls his eyes, "you can just ask me to fuck you harder."

I yelp when his face sinks and he nibbles on my sensitive nub. I moan out his name like gospel, and as much as I don't want it to end, I wriggle in his grasp when I think of something else I need to say.

He uses his strength to force me still, wanting nothing but to devour me. I nearly cave and halt my actions, but I catch his attention when I whine his name out in a plea, "Daemon stop."

He is utterly irritated by this, "what is it now?"

I pout in annoyance, "maybe it's because you're too rough!"

Daemon rolls his eyes yet again.

"Daem-" I whine when his lips begin to move against me again, "think about it!"

Daemon's had enough.

He shoves my legs off him and heaves angrily. I move to sit up and give my husband a cautious look. He however manages to get on his knees and quickly yanks me back down, "shall I give you a lesson, my naïve little wife?"

I purse my lips together as he crawls over me, "I am not naïve. I am only saying that-"

Daemon sighs as he undoes his pants.

"- don't you think I should have been pregnant by now -"

He manages to rip them down while hovering over me.

"- considering how often you bed me?"

He throws his clothes off to the side and pulls my legs apart. We simultaneously moan when he enters me and I bring my hands to his nape, digging my nails into his skin.

Daemon presses a kiss on my lips as he adjusts my legs around him.

I expect him to give me a talking as he pounds into me, but I am only met with stillness and silence. And as much as I love the feeling of him in me like this, I begin to get impatient, "well?"

Daemon chuckles, "I'm teaching you a lesson, wife."

I narrow my eyes at him.

He relishes the deviant expression. He bucks his lips slowly, drawing out a moan from me. Daemon is utterly pleased.

He kisses my neck, hands going to my sides, "if you think my fucking is why you haven't fallen with child-"

I yelp when he quickly spins and rips me over him. I brace myself, hands ending up on his chest. I shift above him, making the both of us groan.

Daemon rubs my arms affectionately, taking in how the loose nightgown wrapped on my body. He fiddles with the lace, "fuck yourself on me then."

For a moment, his words make my belly roll in a wave of hot desire. But something else dawns on me when I see Daemon's hooded eyes. I break into a chuckle, he groans out as a consequence to it, "you're just tired, aren't you?"

His eyes darken. I chuckle yet again. I no longer laugh when he flicks his hips into to me roughly, "fucking move."

I hiss and lean into him, shooting him a glare of my own.

Unappreciative of my disobedience, he grabs my hips and glides me the opposite way of his thrusts, "if you do not move, I'll leave you restless and come all over your pretty face."

I whine at obscene notion.

"You wouldn't want my seed to go to waste, now, would you?" he croons, "don't you want me to get you pregnant?"

I moan as I push myself up and grab on his wrists, following his movements with my own thrusts.

He hisses, melting at my actions. Eventually he is still beneath me as I bounce on him. He praises me for finally listening, "that's it," he exhales, "up and down like a good girl."

I mewl at the sound of his deep voice. He digs at the sides of waist when I quicken my pace. At some point, he is unable too hold back from snapping himself into me. He groans as he does so and I reposition myself, allowing him to reach my sweet spot. I nearly drool when he does. I rip at my lower lip with my teeth and release a guttural sound, "Daemon."

He grunts, "yes, my love." His hands sneak under my dress and rubs my bare skin, "you're doing so good. Such a sweet, pretty girl."

I feel his hands on my belly. I roll my head back when his thumb circles on my wet nub.

His fingers dig into me, "you'll look so pretty carrying my child," he grunts, "mmm, fuck, always so ready for me."

My hands climb to his neck when he says this and I screw my eyes shut focusing on the feeling of him sliding in and out of me.

"Fuck," he drawls, absolutely aroused by the pressure on his throat, "harder," he commands.

Daemon awaits the added pressure but curses when there is none. He calls out my name, making me look down at him. I release a gasp when his hands press down on mine as he repeats, "harder, pretty girl."

I bite my lip and nod, constricting my hands on his throat just a fraction.

It seems to be enough as Daemon releases string of profanities before his hands come back to my hips. He pulls his legs up behind me and fucks into me with a renewed sense of vigor.

My voice bounces the same way my body does. I'm pretty sure I don't even move anymore as Daemon does all the work of slamming into me.

"Fuck, Daemon, don't stop," I whine, as I regain the brain to move against him.

Our own bed whines in distress over actions. The entire room is filled with lewd noises.

It's all a matter of time before it's all over.

I find myself pressing down on him when I come with a loud cry. I release such a breathy shudder that after, I lose my breath. I dig my fingers into his shoulders when I feel him follow after me the next second. I absolutely revel in the heat he burns into me, at the idea I could be carrying his seed soon.

Daemon's hands are ripping roughly at my flesh so hard, I practically feel them bruise. I couldn't care less though.

Yelps and moans continue to leave my lips up until we both crash against each other.

I gasp when I hear Daemon pant heavily after I release him from my grip. He is heaving for literal dear life.

"Daemon, are you alright?" I whine in concern.

He looks lightheaded and yet his lips curve into a smirk, "don't worry, my love, I'm more than alright."

I let out a sight of relief, pressing a kiss on his jaw. I rub my hands onto his face, his own rake my dress up and down my back.

"I do hope I get you pregnant this time," he mutters, pulling me close to press a kiss on my forehead, "I will not stop until I do." He rubs his cheek against my head, "we should go again for good measure."

I grunt at the thought at maneuver off him.

He growls, pressing a kiss on whatever he could get his lips on, unwilling to release me.

"Daemon," I warn emptily.

"What?" he mutters, finding my neck. He licks my skin before biting down, "you enjoy this."

I moan and push him off, "that's the point! You're tired."

When I'm off him, laying to his side, he chuckles darkly and climbs over me.

"Daemo-"

"I'm never too tired for a good fuck."

#daemon fanfic #daemon smut #dad!daemon #soft!daemon #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen fluff #daemon fluff #daemon targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #daemon x reader #daemon x you #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #simp for daemon

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