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#my mother asked me to let the child sleep with me hell no
omarfor-orchestra · 1 year
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I'm so mad I can't sleep
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tender-rosiey · 2 months
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What would happen if gojo has 2 babies? And they both start crying at the same time and poor gojo has to find a solution in this situation 🥲 his younger baby that is only months old starts crying which makes the older sibling that's 2 years older wake up and starts crying 😭
little voice — gojo satoru x f!reader
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you’re on a girls’ vacation. it’s okay. it’s cool.
but it isn’t.
throughout his entire life of fighting curses, emotional trauma, technique training, and unending migraines, he has never felt so much stress like he does right now.
his two kids are truly angels: full of kindness, compassion and—as expected of a child of gojo satoru—full of mischief.
they also share the same amount of love he has for you and, of course, even more. so separate two kids who adore their mother and you get chaos.
satoru just found out that the one who keeps the balance in the house is you, and thinking back about it, it should’ve been obvious because everyone in this house listens to you.
for example, one time when you were out on a simple visit to nanami to take some of the sweet bread he has, you had strictly told satoru to put the two kids to sleep at 8:30 exactly.
he thought it’s too early, but then you explained to him that s/n sleeping gave him time and freedom to look after your baby daughter who was, admittedly, a handful that would not sleep unless she was carried.
so satoru obediently listened, or at least he tried to.
a shameful failed trial at that.
in his defense, what was he supposed to do when s/n gave him puppy eyes asked for a mere 10 minutes more, say no? of course not!
so, like the great father he is, he gave him a couple more minutes, and nothing will make satoru regret his decision since to him his son’s smile is worth the world.
…except maybe the chandelier that is now on the floor and his precious baby daughter who just took one the biggest poops he has known of and his son who is panicking about how to clean this mess before you come home.
and come home you did and to all this mess.
swiftly, you picked up your daughter and changed her diaper, even making her giggle and squeal in between.
then you hugged your son and cleaned up the shattered glass together and disposed of the chandelier. lastly, you stood in front of your husband with a big frown after you’ve put the kids to sleep.
satoru could swear that he couldn’t fall more in love with you. hell, he could even twirl you around and kiss you breathless, but he feels like that would just lead him to the couch.
so he works to butter you up first before trying anything, “hey my sweet cute honeypie—“
you simply quirk an eyebrow.
and he falls to his knees, “I am sorry! I just couldn’t resist his puppy eyes! you should’ve seen them; he looked so cute!”
“I saw them a million times before he was even born, ‘toru.”
your husband gasps, “how!?”
“our son is an exact copy of you, sweetie.”
so yeah that was one of too many times, and if it isn’t apparent that you are the mediator then satoru wants to let the world know that even his students listen to you.
like that one time at school when the first years were caught up fighting with each other, the second years were trying to pull them apart, and satoru was too busy cackling at them while holding d/n that no one noticed panda’s little tail being—god knows why—on fire, not even panda himself.
that was until your precious son tugged at your husband’s shirt and pointed at panda, saying a simple sentence (phrase), “papa, panda fire.”
satoru’s eyes zero on panda then they widen, before he gapes, “oh shit, you’re right!”
“bad word!”
“sorry!”
however, despite satoru almost bolting to put out the fire, panda was finally able to smell it and hummed, “something’s being cooked.” then he looked at his tail, “oh it’s me.”
hit the panic button.
“I am being cooked!” he screams and starts running around, “panda meat doesn’t taste good; I promise!”
the rest start running after him with the intention to help, but panda could only translate it into one thing as he screamed, “don’t eat me!!”
“no one is gonna eat you, dumbass!!” maki yelled but to no avail as no one could get to the panicked panda.
your husband is running as well, half taking photos and videos and half ensuring that d/n does not fall from his hands—considering how she keeps giggling, squealing, and wriggling her entire body.
ijichi took matters into his own hands and called the only person he knows will be able to solve this.
“hello?”
“panda is on fire, the kids are running after him, and gojo is just recording!” he wails, eyes frantically following said people then straying to a particularly small person, “also s/n is trying to eat the grass.”
“what?!”
and like lightning, you’re on the field. you lightly scold s/n and tell him to cover his ears.
you turn to the walking fire hazard and scream, “everyone stop! and panda get over here!”
“yes ma’am!”
he stands still in front of you, almost ignoring his ‘fiery’ tail. you effectively put it out and ruffle his fur until he calms down. the others take turns in greeting you and getting their daily dose of motherly hugs.
your son sprints to you and holds onto your leg, refusing to let go.
and they all make way for the star of the show: the all-mighty gojo satoru.
he beams, “wifey, yet again you save the day!”
he easily picks up s/n and pulls the four of you into one big hug. he rubs his cheek against yours, “have I told you how much I love you?”
“I was gone for 3 minutes.”
“I haven’t?!” he gasps, completely ignoring you, “I am a terrible husband!”
he sobs and starts slowly melting to the ground where he believes a ‘disrespectful, good-for-nothing husband who doesn’t tell his wife just how much he loves her’.
anyway, back to the present. the kids have been miraculously put to sleep—a process that satoru does not have the time nor the energy to describe.
when he stops ‘reminiscing ‘, he starts paling at the fact that all of these were mere examples of things going wrong without you, and you were in the freaking area.
now, you’re not 10 steps away, and satoru is feeling very threatened.
he is sprawled out on the couch, eye bags ever so prominent. he sighs and lets his head fall back, grateful for the silence that fills the house, but he hates it at the same time.
satoru was never fond of silence—the type that feels so heavy on the heart—even when he was a teenager. it gives space and time to think about all the things he is desperate to avoid.
he did eventually come to love silence but only the silence that accompanies the times he spends with you, but that’s a story for another time though.
opening his eyes, he looks around and his gaze lands on your recent family photo. his smile is almost instantaneous.
if there’s anything he will rub in suguru’s face when they meet is that he managed to score himself such a lovely wife and an adoring family, a real family. he mentally writes a plus one on the score chart between him and suguru then relaxes.
he would like to scurry to the bed where your scent still lingers, but his fatigue has simply chained him to the couch—he is overreacting you’re only gone for three days.
so, he decides, it’s time to rest and hope for a dream where he gets to hold you and live with his longing until he can feel your lips against his skin again.
the great gojo satoru closes his eyes and welcomes his slumber.
that is until, his little sweetheart decides to breakout into a wail, effectively causing her dad’s eyes to snap open.
he jumps to his feet and sprints to her room, “d/n, what’s wrong, honey?”
he softly cradles her in his—gigantic—arms and starts rocking her slowly. “it’s okay; papa’s here,” he murmurs in hopes of calming down, but his daughter doesn’t register his voice yet.
she can, however, feel his all too familiar chest against her cheek, so she grips at it tightly and continues crying.
satoru’s expression is full of distress, and his heart contracts painfully at how his daughter’s cries. then it’s almost like the entire world is against him right now because he also starts to hear small little sniffles from the door of the room.
your husband looks back to find his son dragging his teddy bear with him in one hand and in another, trying to wipe his tears as much as possible.
your husband quickly shifts d/n into one arm and leads s/n into him with the other. your son nuzzles into his dad’s chest and murmurs, “I want mama.”
almost like she understands the mention of you, she calms down a tiny bit and her hands start reaching for the air—reaching for you.
satoru slides down to the ground and pulls them both into his chest, and he starts rubbing s/n’s shoulder and kisses the top of his head and sighs, “me too, s/n, but, hey, we are strong and capable, so we have to hold on until she comes home, right?”
a little sniffle escapes s/n as he nods before saying a soft, “yeah.”
satoru smiles and ruffles his hair, “that’s my champ.”
s/n lets out a little smile and snuggles into his dad’s embrace.
so satoru shifts his attention to the sniffling baby in his arm, he frowns, “now what are we going to do with you, little missy?”
your son purses his lips for a moment, before placing the teddy bear in his hands into his little sister’s tiny arms. curiosity takes over for a moment, and she starts exploring the new item.
then s/n presses on the teddy bear’s chest and it plays a little voice message from you:
“hey sweetie! mama loves you, so don’t worry about those nightmares! I am always here.”
your daughter’s eyes shine and she hugs the teddy as much as possible and utters a small, “ma!”
satoru blinks owlishly then looks at s/n with smile, “so you had that all along?”
s/n nods slowly and holds into his father tighter, obviously getting tired and getting ready to sleep. satoru would love to say the same about his other angel but—oh she fell asleep.
looks like all it took was a little listen to your voice.
he will probably make you record a thousand voice messages when you come back and make you get him his own special build-a-bear as well cause what the hell? what about your husband?
he shakes the thought away, realizing that he can finally fall asleep, albeit on the floor.
with no blanket.
no pillow.
not even his favorite cushion.
but he wasn’t raised to be ungrateful, so he will take what he can get. he will simply make up for lost sleep when you’re back. it will feel better that way in any case.
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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chrisevansonly · 2 months
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Playing With Fire
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Max Verstappen x Female Reader
summary: you and stella are max’s world, and he’d be damned if he let his father speak ill of either of you.
warnings: angst, jos (ew), angry max, slight mentions of crying, fluff at end
a/n: this is a re-upload to see if it shows up in the tags 🥲
When Stella was born, it was one of the best days ever for Max, seeing his baby girl come into the world, and the way she practically latched onto him from the minute she was welcomed into the family. He knew right then and there he would be the absolute best father to his daughter, just as he was the best husband to you, and always had been.
If there was one thing Max nor you completely enjoyed it was family events when everyone got together, including Jos. Max’s father.Max and his father have a complicated relationship, in a way they seem close but there’s always that edge to his dad that keeps all of you on the edge of your seat. You in particular seemed to still be an issue to him, and every once in a while, you’d become the punching bag at the dinner table.
Stella was sleeping in your arms as you sat next to Max at the dinner table, Jos across from you both and his mother on the other end with the rest of his family and some friends that had joined for the monthly get together.
“So when is the next Verstappen coming?” His father asked looking at you. Stella was only 6 months old so you and Max were happy to just enjoy the time you have with her now, not even thinking about another baby.
“Oh, well i’m sure someday we’ll have another…”
“We’re in no rush” Max butted in, assuming it would stop his father’s line of questioning.
“Yes well, it’s just you had a baby girl…there has to be a boy in the equation…”
You furrowed your brows, fixing Stella’s blanket as she continued to sleep, oblivious to the rising tensions in the room.
“I don’t think so? There’s nothing wrong with having girls..”
“Who’s supposed to carry on the name?”
Max sat up straighter, his hand squeezing your knee gently
“Stella will just as our next baby will eventually, regardless of their gender.”
Jos shook his head taking a sip of his water as he sighed, before looking back at you.
“All i’m saying is you should be trying for a boy.”
“Well it doesn’t work that way.”
The table was getting quieter as the father and son squared off, Jos not backing down and Max not about to let his father attack you in anyway. Not on his watch.
“I knew the second you had a daughter it would make you weak, let alone marrying her and having that baby! She’s useless if she can’t have a boy! You’re wasting your time Max, I knew from the second I met her it would ruin our family.”
Used to his harassment you didn’t cry, but it didn’t stop tears from welling up in your eyes as you almost deflated in a way, hugging Stella closer to your chest. The minute your eyes looked to Max, long gone was his soft stare and gentle smile, replaced was a look almost predatory as he looked to his father.
“Watch your fucking mouth when you’re talking about the mother of my child.”
“Max-”
“No, get out.”
“Excuse me?” Jos’s eyes widened and he shook his head
“GET THE HELL OUT!”
Max yelled, slamming his hands down on the table, seconds later Stella stirring before whimpering in your arms. The dutchman froze and looked apologetically at you as you excused yourself to go up to the nursery, only then turning back to look at his father.
“If you ever so much as think about speaking about my wife and daughter again, it’ll be me coming after you. Now get the fuck out.”
Jos didn’t even offer to say anything else, pushing back his chair and storming out, effectively cutting the dinner to an end as everyone left, Max’s mother sticking around to help clean up and of course comfort you afterwards. She had always been close to you and Max and in a way she was like a mother to you too.
“Baby?”
Turning at the sound of your husbands voice you smiled, still holding Stella in your arms, only this time she was much calmer, her eyes lighting up as she spots her dad.
“Hi, everything okay?”
“I should be asking you that…”
Shrugging you let him take Stella from you, his demeanour much more relaxed with his baby girl in his arms as he placed a few kisses to her cheeks.
“I know what your father is like, yes it hurts but I love you and you love me and that’s all that matters…we have a beautiful baby girl, and that man will never be able to change what we have.”
Max nods, bringing you into his side and leaning down to kiss you softly
“You’re right, he can’t. I’ll never let him ever disrespect you like that ever again. No matter what I have to do.”
“I know you won’t Maxie…and I love you very much for it, Stella too, huh baby?”
Stroking her cheek gently she babbled happily, leaning on Max’s shoulder, her hand patting his chest gently
“My girls…I love you both so much, i’ll always protect you both, with my everything.”
Nothing else needed to be said in the moment, all Max needed was his girls and he felt whole. Nothing else mattered because to him he had everything he’d ever wanted in his life. Despite what he went through growing up, Jos had never made his heart turn cold, he made it big enough to hold the love he had for you two, and would always hold, no matter what happened.
Besides, everyone knew messing with the Verstappen girls, was playing with fire.
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kinopio-writes · 2 months
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Hello dearie!!
How are you? I hope you're doing well!
I saw that your asks were open,and your content is really cool and silly,So I decided to leave you a nice ask to enjoy!
Could I have a headcanon platonic! Alastor,Vox and Husk finding a random child next to their dead mother, except that they don't really understand that she's dead and think she's sleeping,so they pity the child and take them in?
The child is really polite and nice,pretty calm,too. Sure,they do child stuff,like running around,being excited,etc,but they still are more calm than others.
They always talk about their mother,how she's the only one left,and how they love her.
Would the characters say the truth? Would they lie?
I just love hurt/comfort and platonic relationships so :3
Anyways,I hope that's not too much,and that you enjoy writing this!
Have a really nice day,don't forget to drink and take breaks!
Stay proud!
-Nina <33
A/N: Thank you for the reminders, heh. Btw, I’m going to have to change the reasons as to why they took you in because I just don’t see characters like Alastor and Vox taking you in because of pity. Sorry about that. The rest is untouched. You’ll still get a bit of that hurt/comfort (mostly from Husk, lol. Both Alastor and Vox are non-existent, but Alastor is somehow better than Vox).
Warnings: Mentions of death
———
Alastor, Husk, and Vox adopting a deceased mom’s child
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Alastor
• Alastor paid no mind to the dead corpse
• it didn’t really look that appetizing anyway
• “How unfortunate.” You heard a weird voice from behind you as a hand was placed on your shoulder. “A child mourning in the demise of its mother. Tragic, really. You have my condolences.”
• “What are you talking about, mister?” You stared up at the mysterious man, watching his eyes flick from your left to right eye while his grin only grew as the seconds went by
• “I think you’ve just found yourself the perfect dwelling,” he abruptly said, letting go of your shoulder to fix his bowtie as he sprung back to life. “Why don’t you come with me?”
• “But what about my mother?”
• “She is in good hands, I can assure you.” He offered his hand to you. “Come along, now. Children shouldn’t dwell long in places like these.”
• and so he took you in to be a patron at his hotel
• I mean, what’s more easier to redeem than a child? (assuming you’re a sinner. I don’t know if it’s canon anymore that only hellborns can reproduce. Look at Cannibal Town’s people)
• he intended to leave you in the rest of the residents’ care while they could only guess what his actual motivation was for taking you in
• but it seemed you ended up favoring him more than the rest
• you’d follow him around like a duckling—a lost puppy—you’re attached to him like a leech
• and you’re so well-behaved, too
• up until he leaves your sight
• he actually leaves the hotel a lot more often now because of that
• he finds you wrecking chaos in the hotel entertaining as hell
• and the fact that the others beg him to come back to calm you down
• I don’t think you would ever know what happened to your mother
• even when you talk about her a lot
• those rambles never really prompt him to say anything
• well, it’s not as if he knew what happened to her
• but, hey, at least he listens!
• maybe it’s because he feels a little nostalgic hearing the way you talk about her…
———
Husk
• Husk was fucking spooked when he found you lying beside your dead mother
• not because of the corpse, but because of the way you were staring at him
• with eyes dull and wide open, just like your mother
• while Husk wouldn’t have given two shits if it was a grown-ass adult, you were a child
• so he took you in
• “But what about my mother?”
• “Shi—I, uh—your momma will tag along soon. Now c’mon. She wouldn’t want you out here alone.”
• since Husk is constantly around the hotel, there were never really instances where you wreaked havoc
• you just silently watch him tend the bar and sometimes talk about your mother
• your talks about how much you love her make him feel pretty guilty for some reason
• but he’d probably tell you when you’re older enough
• only if you were asking him about her though
• he wouldn’t want to have to sit you down and tell you something that sensitive of a topic when you didn’t even ask
• “Why don’t I have a mother?” you would suddenly ask when you turned 18
• today was your birthday. Charlie insisted on having a little party for you just like every year. But you didn’t want one; you wanted to be with Husk for the day
• the man in question sighed
• he knew you were building up the courage to ask all day
• “I’m gonna give it to you straight, kid, I don’t know what exactly happened to her. All I know is that she’s in a better place.”
• “Oh…”
• “Do you…wanna talk about it?” He continued, voice a little unsure, “Not as a bartender…but as a dad.”
• you smiled, grateful. “I think I’ve already said plenty when I was younger. But thanks, Dad.”
• he smiled back
• you two would then sit in silence together, basking in each other’s presence
———
Vox
• so, uh, I’m going to have to completely skip the taking you in part with Vox because I genuinely cannot see him adopting a random child (unless he could gain something, but, like, you’re just a kid)
• so you’ll just get the aftermath of it (hope that’s okay)
• based on the way he handled Val’s tantrum, I think it’s safe to assume that he’s somewhat good with children
• but he’s a pretty busy guy
• he doesn’t have the time to take care of a random child, so he’d make sure to keep an eye on you on his cameras
• but despite that, your existence in the tower warrants his
• as you’re too chaotic whenever he isn’t around
• but only around the other expendable employees
• you’re relatively well-behaved when Velvette and Valentino are with you
• but he doesn’t exactly trust them to take care of you
• they aren’t exactly good with children
• so he tried doing video calls
• you will definitely grow up as an iPad kid
• he’d hear you talk about your mom during those calls
• he’d let you go on and on, but it’s not guaranteed that he’ll listen
• I don’t think he would ever tell you what happened to her (he doesn’t know, anyway)
• he won’t lie, he’d just work around your question
• skillfully
• like, extremely so
• even if you ask him directly, he still manages to dodge the question somehow
• I don’t know what else to say, he’s gonna be a pretty distant father—
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phoward89 · 2 months
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Based on this ask
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Coriolanus Snow knew firsthand the deadly risks of childbirth, considering he watched in horror as a young child when his own mother and baby sister died, but he knew that he needed an heir to carry on the Snow name. When he planned on marrying for hate, well, he could care less what happened to his wife during the delivery.
But, somehow, all his plans and views on marriage changed when he met you. You were hired as his secretary, so you spent a lot of time with him. Coriolanus never planned on falling in love with you, but he did. Hell, he even killed your boyfriend in order to make you single again so you'd be able to go out with him.
And when you accepted his offer of dinner, which came with a single white rose, a few months after the death of your longtime boyfriend, he did everything in his power to make you fall in love with him. Coriolanus was successful, you fell hard and fast for him. He was too charming not to let wiggle into your heart, and into your bed.
The president needed a first lady, so he proposed and married you. But it was a bit scandalous, considering you were his secretary. After a couple of negative articles in the media, well, Coriolanus got rid of the writers and made sure that the studios and printing presses in the Capitol (all of Panem actually) knew that if another foul word was printed about his relationship with his wife then he'd kill every single person in the media office.
Safe to say, only articles praising President Snow and First Lady Snow’s love and glamorous life hit the press after that.
And then, of course, came the subject of children. After discussing it, you stopped taking birth control. And you ended up getting pregnant right away.
Seeing you so round with his child gave Coriolanus joy. Gave him an ego boost because he was the one to plant his seed in you. You were carrying his child. His precious baby.
The baby was no longer looked at as an heir, but as a baby to love.
And it was all because of you.
“Coryo, I have my top list of baby names finished.” You told your husband, who was lounging in bed wearing only a pair of sleep pants.
Coryo watched as you sat across the room, placing his fountain pen back into its holder after writing down the final name on your baby name list.
After discussing it, you both decided to wait until the baby was born to discover the gender. You wanted to be surprised and Coriolanus just wanted you to be happy.
“Are you going to let me see it, my darling?” Your platinum blonde husband asked as you slowly stood up from his corner desk.
Placing a hand on your large belly, you smiled, “Of course I'm going to let you see it.”
Grabbing the list, you slowly walked over to the bed. After getting into bed, you handed the list to your husband. “Tell me what ones you like, Mister President.”
Coryo kissed your cheek and smiled. “Of course, First Lady Snow.”
He read over the list, only to discover that you had more boys' names than girls written down. After giving it some thought, he told you, “Cassian Xandros is perfect for our son. It's a strong name.” Mulling it over, he pointed to a name on the paper and announced, "Cersei sounds nice for a girl.”
“It's not nice, Coryo, it's beautiful.” You countered, pulling the list out of his hands. “Looks like the baby has a name; all we need to do is wait for it to come.”
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The day your daughter Cersei Snow was born was the day that your husband decided to hate her.
The day didn't start out with him hating his baby girl.
No, it started with your water breaking and a trip to the hospital. Coriolanus canceled all of his meetings, briefings, and work for the day just to be by your side.
He was very supportive during your labor. Letting you hold his hand during painful contracts, smoothing your hair back away from your sweaty face with a damp rag, and buzzing the nurse multiple times for both ice chips and pain medication for you.
The nurses all gossiped amongst each other about how President Snow was the perfect doting husband and and father to be. That he'd make a very good father.
Little did they know.
Little did anyone know what would happen once the doctor came into the room and announced that it was time to start pushing.
Coriolanus was by your side as you pushed and pushed. With every push he noticed you were getting weaker and it worried him.
Looking between your weak, pale form, and the doctor that was sitting at the bottom of your bed, Coriolanus asked, “Dr. Wellock, my wife's growing weaker. Is there something you can do to get the baby out?”
“There's nothing to be worried about, President Snow. Labor’s a strenuous event; many first time mothers grow fatigue and can push for a while before the baby crowns.” The doctor told your husband, more or less blowing off his concern.
You were exhausted but determined to have your baby. Even tho you were feeling dizzy, you continued to bear down and push every time you were told to.
Then, when you felt that you didn't have any more strength coursing thru your body, you gave birth to your baby.
You saw Dr. Wellock hold up the baby and announce, “It's a girl.” Suddenly, your vision began to get fuzzy as you heard the doctor ask your husband, “President Snow, would you like to cut the cord?”
Coriolanus was about to answer whenever he saw you faint, paired with blood pooling around your legs and staining the bed.
“What's wrong with my wife?!” Coriolanus asked, fear filling him as the doctor quickly cut the baby's cord and tossed her to a waiting nurse. “Dr. Wellock, is my wife dying?!” Coriolanus asked in a panicked scream, while the nurse quickly cleaned the baby and wrapped her into a blanket.
“Your wife's hemorrhaging, President Snow.” Dr. Wellock told your husband, only to point to the nurse and tell her, “Give him the baby and get him out of here.”
So, the nurse dumped the baby in Coriolanus' arms and pushed him out of the door. Before the president could blink, the door was slammed shut I'm his face.
As Dr. Wellock and his nurse worked to staunch your bleeding; save your life, your husband stood outside of your room with your newborn baby girl in his arms.
Coriolanus looked down at the tiny baby wriggling and crying in his hold, only to look at the door of your room and realize that you're dying because of the thing in his arms.
Cersei’s what the two of you decided to name her, when she wasn't a danger. Wasn't the reason you're dying.
Coriolanus felt disgust and hatred for the newborn in his arms. He didn't want to hold her anymore. She was the reason why you're knear death right now.
So, your husband found a nurse to pawn the baby on.
Coriolanus swore to himself that he'd never touch that evil little creature ever again. That he'd never love her.
It didn't matter if you lived or died, he was going to hate your daughter until the day he died.
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You didn't die in childbirth, but it was a close call. The doctor explained that you had bad hemorrhaging due to your uterus not contracting correctly after the birthing process, causing uncontrollable bleeding. You were given a blood transfusion, once Dr. Wellock managed to stop the bleeding, due to your blood pressure being too low after such a large blood loss.
You were out of it for days, but you survived.
You were happy to be alive and with your family. Coriolanus and Cersei.
But it didn't take long for you to notice that Coriolanus never picked up your daughter. He never held her, hell, Coryo never seemed too interested in her.
Unless it was for a photo op. Then he turned into the perfect hands on dad that would pose for pictures. But as soon as the cameras stop flashing, the president stops caring about his daughter.
You thought that Coriolanus would get over it; would come to accept your daughter in time. But…sadly…your daughter's first birthday is fastly approaching and your husband still doesn't seem interested in her, unless it's for a photo op.
It saddened you, knowing that Coriolanus was offish to Cersei because she wasn't the son he probably wanted to carry on the Snow name. You loved your daughter and you were sure that your Coryo loved her too, but was just disappointed that she wasn't the strong son he probably had his heart set on.
He did pick out a boy name right off the bat when you handed him your list of baby names last year.
Maybe if Coryo had a son to carry on the Snow name, he'd be happier in his role of fatherhood?
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Coriolanus walked into the sunroom only to cringe when he saw you coddling Cersei. The damn little creature nearly murdered you during the birthing process, but you were holding her as she napped on you.
Goodness, there was a portable cradle in the room for a reason.
“She's nearly a year old, you shouldn't be letting her sleep on you like that.” Coriolanus told you, taking a seat at the small tea table. He never even tried to hide the disgust in his voice.
“There's nothing wrong with holding her, Coryo? She's my baby girl.” You responded, causing your husband to just shake his head while reaching for the teapot that was in the middle of the table.
“She's a toddler now, darling. She's not a baby anymore.” Coriolanus scoffed, pouring himself a cup of tea. “Do you want to have afternoon tea with me, or are you going to coddle Cersei all day?” He asked, grabbing a macaron and placing it onto the small plate that was in front of him.
“I'll have tea with you, Coryo.” You thinly smiled, only to rise from your spot on the sofa and place your daughter into her portable crib.
As you made your way over to the table, your husband fixed you a cup of tea and plated you macarons. When you sat down, you decided that now was the time to bring up the subject of having more children.
Little did you know, after your near death experience, Coriolanus got himself snipped. So…it was impossible for you to have any more children.
But he wasn't going to tell you that.
Reaching for your teacup, you told your husband,“Coryo, I think we should have another baby.”
“No.” Was Coriolanus’ quick and cold reply.
“But, we could have a son this time “ You pressed, knowing that your husband wanted a son. Wanted the Snow name to live on.
But you were wrong. Coriolanus didn't want a son to carry on the Snow name, he wanted you alive to be by his side. He loves you to the point of obsessive possession. The love Coriolanus has for you is all consuming, like a plague of locusts devouring an entire field of crops in District 11.
Coryo took a long sip of his tea, only to cut eyes with you over his teacup and firmly say, “I said no, Y/N.” placing his teacup down, he gave you the lame excuse of, “I'm a very busy man, my little dove. Being president takes much of my time away from my fatherly duties; we can only handle raising one child. More than one would be too much for us, considering you refuse a nanny.”
“I told you when I was pregnant with Cersei that I want to raise our kids. I don't want somebody else raising them, no matter how it might be easier considering your role in politics.”
“My role in politics?” Coriolanus chuckled, biting into his macaron. “I'm the President of Panem, that's more than just a role in politics.”
Sipping on your tea, you sighed, “Fine, Cersei’ll be an only child.”
Grabbing your hand in his, Coryo promised, “Our daughter will never want for anything. She'll be showered in a life of luxury.”
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That wasn't true. Your daughter grew up wanting her father's love, but she never got it. Coriolanus was always so distant and cold with Cersei.
She hated him, but that was fine with your husband since he hated her right back.
You always thought that your husband resented your daughter for not being a son, for not being able to carrying on the might and noble Snow name.
But that wasn't the case at all.
Coriolanus Snow hated his daughter, Cersei, because you nearly died in childbirth with her. Nothing would every change that. He'd hate her til the day she died.
At least when your daughter died, it was bringing your beautiful granddaughter into the world.
A granddaughter Coryo named Celeste Snow, since your daughter was unwed at the time of her unexpected death.
Your husband was a better grandfather than he was a father. You thought that he might've felt guilty for being so distant and busy during Cersei’s childhood, that he decided to right his wrongs while you raised Celeste.
Little did you know, Coriolanus loved his granddaughter because she killed her mother in the birthing bed.
President Snow was a horrible, heartless man with a soul darker than a black hole. But at least he loved you and loved his granddaughter.
Too bad he hated his only child her entire life.
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Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya, @mfnqueen1, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88
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maidragoste · 4 months
Text
I always knew you would come
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Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader
another part of Daemon's Wife au
Summary: You think your husband is going to be angry with you for going to the Stepstones but he surprises you.
REBLOGS, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated. comments always motivate me to continue writing 🥰🥰💖💖
If you have ideas or thoughts for this series you are welcome to share them in my inbox
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.
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You paced back and forth inside Daemon's tent as you waited for him to arrive. You were ready to argue with him. You had plenty of anger after listening to the scolding of your father, your uncle, and the concern of your brother, you had deludedly hoped that they would be happier to see you. You wouldn't care what they or your husband told you, you wouldn't come home. You were determined to stay on the Stepstones until the war was over. You couldn't sit idly by for another year in Driftmark and wait for your family to return.
You stopped as soon as you saw Daemon enter. You felt your heart speed up. The first thing you noticed was that he now had his hair a little shorter. You hadn't seen your husband for almost three years. There wasn't a day that you hadn't missed him. You always looked forward to his letters and you hoped that one day one of them would tell you that the war was over but that letter never arrived so you decided to act. You hoped that with your dragon you could be of help because at this rate you doubted that King Viserys would deign to help with anything.
You expected Daemon to yell at you about what the hell you were doing here and that you should be home taking care of your son, like your father had, but to your surprise he strode towards you and pulled you close to him as he smashed his lips against yours. You closed your eyes feeling how all the tension and frustration you felt minutes before disappeared before the warmth of his lips. You kissed him with the same devotion hoping he could feel how much you love him. Your husband's hands left your waist and you were about to complain at the loss of his touch when you felt his hands caressing your hair, he caressed it so softly and with so much affection that for a moment it made you want to cry. You had been deprived of this. You had missed him so much. You wanted it all to be over so he could bring you and Baelon home again.
"How is Baelon?" Daemon asked, breaking the kiss but still stroking your hair. He had spent nights dreaming about you, dreaming about the baby you told him in letters that looked like him, dreaming about waking up next to you and admiring your beauty while caressing your hair, like he used to do before he left for the war.
You were supposed to go to Stepstones with him but then you two found out you were pregnant then you stayed in Driftmark with your mother. Daemon could not accompany you during the pregnancy or be at the birth of his child. But you still decided together on your baby's name by correspondence. At first, you weren't sure about naming him Baelon because you were afraid that Viserys and Rhaenyra would be upset with you for naming your baby after the son and brother they both lost that caused Queen Aemma's death, but your husband told you that he only wanted to name him Baelon in honor his father and you couldn't refuse.
Daemon was also unable to witness how his son grew up, he missed his first steps, his first words, and his name days. Even though he had never met him, he cared about his son.
"He's fine. “He drives me and mom crazy because he doesn't stop running,” you responded with a smile. The affection in your voice was evident and I could see the love in your eyes. “He's obsessed with his dragon like you” you mocked earning a small pinch on your waist and making you let out a small snort “If I don't let him see his dragon before going to sleep he gets in a bad mood” Now he could hear the pride in your voice, evidently his son was not having a hard time bonding with his dragon.
“Definitely a Targaryen,” Daemon said, also feeling proud like you. He wanted to see with his own eyes how his son bonded with his dragon and teach how to care for him, he wanted to be there for Baelon.
“Prince Daemon, they are waiting for you,” a man's voice was heard outside the tent.
“I'll be there in a few minutes,” he responded and it didn't take long for you to hear the man's footsteps walking away. “Come on, we have a war to plan,” he said after giving you one last kiss.
“Do you want me to go to the war council with you?” you asked, clearly surprised.
“Of course, you came to fight with us right?” the prince said without understanding your reaction, gently taking your arm to prevent you from walking away.
"Yes, I came to fight" you responded instantly but you were still confused that he would accept your participation on the battlefield so quickly. "So, you're not upset and you're not going to send me back home to Baelon? You're going to let me fight?"
"I'm sure you once told me that you don't need my permission to do anything," your husband reminded you, arching an eyebrow, still not understanding what you were getting at with this.
"It's true," you said, feeling confident again. "And I'm glad you're clear about that, it's just that I was ready to argue with you. I thought you would tell me the same nonsense that my father and my uncles told me, that I shouldn't be here, that Now I'm a mother so I should go home and take care of Baelon, that's what a good mother would do, that I shouldn't fight, that they don't need my help or Nightwing, that Caraxes and Seasmoke were enough" when you started talking about your family You looked like you were spitting poison.
Daemon frowned, noticing that behind your anger was also pain. He felt furious that someone dared to tell you that you were a bad mother. The worst thing was that it was your own family. He wanted to cut out their tongues but he knew that despite your anger with your family you would never want them to suffer any kind of harm.
"They are idiots for refusing your help, for thinking that you would listen to them and return to Dirftmark without hesitation," he declared. "I'm sure you fight better than some of your father's bannermen and would make them cry on the battlefield," he said. making you smile. You knew he wasn't lying to you just to make you feel better. Daemon was not that kind of person. He didn't give fake compliments and besides every time the two of you faced each other he had never been afraid to be harsh with you "I always knew you would come sooner or later. I know you and I know that you can stand to sit around doing nothing, the birth of Baelon wouldn't going to change that. Besides, it's not like you left our son alone and helpless, you left him with your mother. Don't let those idiots get into your head, you're a good mother" he emphasized the last words, wanting you not to have any doubt about what he thought.
"I'm glad I married you," you said without any shame, happiness lit up your eyes and your smile was warm.
Neither of them knew who was the first to bring their faces closer to the other but it didn't matter because their lips met again. Daemon kissed you as if it were a necessity as if you were the air he needed to breathe and you loved it. You want to stay in his tent and satisfy the insatiable hunger you feel for him. But you can't, there are already people against you staying and if Daemon missed the war council then they would blame you. You would just give them one more reason to keep insisting that you come home.
"Come on, we have a war to plan," you said breaking the kiss and tucking a loose strand of hair behind Daemon's ear.
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Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works
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If you want to be part of my taglist
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769 notes · View notes
writingoddess1125 · 5 months
Note
Ok, I just have to ask you. Can we have more daddy Mihawk? 🫠🔥
Please 🥺
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You Got is Sugar!
Mihawk x FemReader +OOC Children
Liniște! {Be Quiet!}
Since Mihawk is Romanian 🇷🇴 I thought him speaking the tongue/culture would be fun!
If I got shit wrong PLEASE tell me!
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• Most people do not realize this, because Mihawk keeps it behind closed door. But- He is very heavily tied to his culture of birth.
• Most of the time at home, Mihawk has developed the habit of just speaking his native tongue. Feeling comforble enough to do so- As well as wanting to pass it on to his children.
• Mihawk summoning Alucare to his study one frosty morning, humming a song from his youth as he has a stack of papers and books before him. The gloomy teen stepping in and raising a brow at his father-
• "Închide ușa" (Close the Door-) Mihawk said calmly waving to his child who stares at him confused. "What language are you speaking old man?-"
• "From now on I'm only speaking my native language to you. So you learn or you starve-" He says calmly as he hands his son the book. "You've got to be kidding-"
• "Nu glumesc" (I'm not kidding-)
• He adores you and will speak with you privately in his native tongue, teaching you important words that will only ever be used for you-
• Does not use tradional physical punishments. Truthfully he doesn't believe in them- Yes he will be a harsh teacher in training since that is different.
• Laying next to you in the soft silks of bed whispering "Te iubesc" Softly to you. Teaching you the meanings of every word, as well as being more vocally affectionate in this language.
• "Well at least youre learning the language" Mihawk said with a heavy sigh looking at Alucare who got his ass handed to him-
• "Face din nou" (Do it again) Mihawk says calmly tapping his sword clean as Alicare laid on the ground trying to get up.
• "Du-te dracului!" (Go to Hell) Alucare growls out.
• Mihaela is constantly in his arms. He truthfully refuses to let her go, doting on her heavily and seeing her as his star in his sky.
- Mihawk walked into his father's study, raising a brow at seeing the man holding Miha still while going through papers. Mihawk glancing up at his eldest rather quickly-
• He is delicate and handles much of Mihaela nightly upkeep. Letting you sleep throughout the night since you worked so hard during the days.
• Changing diapers, getting bottles, dealing with any midnight fussiness. He handles it all with grace and making sure you sleep- As well as takes this time to clean up the nursery or the bedroom so it's something you don't stress about.
• He will immediately wake up at the first sounds of his darling daughter fussing. Walking calmly to her nursery and always greet her the same way-
• "Scumpa mea~" (My treasure) Mihawk smiling at his fussing daughter. "So beautiful, like your your mother-" before scooping her up in his arms.
• Spoils Mihaela fucking ROTTEN- The whole house does really but Mihawk is the worse..
"Seems girls ate favored in this family" Alucare muses, his words having no mallace and just a simple jest at how his sister was so heavily spoiled. Mohawk raising a brow at this and staring at his child-
"Favored?" He questioned rather calmly.
"Yeah like favorite chil-"
"No-" Mihawk said calmy but firmly, cutting off his son. "Miha is my Sun, Bright, Innocent and Sweet but clearly with a fire of an attitude. You are my Moon, Smart, Ambitious and Loyal but can be cold. And your mother, She is my sky. Day or Night she guides me and holds the two most important things in my life. You are all equally needed and important to me. Without one or another all would be lost" He clarified rather sharply.
Alucare face getting a hint of pink at the rather kind words his father spoke. Now unsure how to respond or explain to his father he was just making a joke.
Bonus!-
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Mihawk notices his cigars are missing- While he doesn't personally smoke he does have expensive cigars for guest or have gifted to him as gifts-
He knew he had counted 30- yet he had only 27 in his collection. Irritation hitting him as he closes the box and calmly grabs his hat-
On the otherside of the Island, Alucare is sitting on one of the old abandoned pillars- a place he had turned into his hide out were he could relax. Currently with one bottle of wine he had snuck from his father's secret stash and a cigar.
This had turned into his favorite pass time. Drinking directly out of the bottle and taking a mouthful of smoke as he sat there looking over the gloomy island-
However this was soon to end when a menacing shadow with glowing yellow eyes stood behind him- Alucare feeling his hair stand up on end as he slowly turned to see the invision of the devil himself there.
"O să număr până la trei-"
(I'm gonna count to Three-)
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incorrect-hs-quotes · 6 months
Text
ROSE: I recently found out why my mom would never sleep around me when I was a kid. Like, she'd never let herself take naps or sleep if I was awake, ever. Or, if she did, she'd lock her bedroom door.
ROSE: So. When I was six, I was asleep in my bed in the middle of the night when I heard a loud bang, like a pot being dropped. I came out to the living room to see my mom standing by the window, with... just, a huge pile of spaghetti all over the sill, and a pot on the ground. And I go,
ROSE: "Are you going to eat all that?"
ROSE: She gets MAD. Yells at me, chases me to my room. But then, a little while later, a bunch of cops show up and ask me a bunch of random ass questions about my art? Like, this one cop lady kept asking me to draw wizards for her. They seemed mad as hell.
ROSE: I didn't want to get arrested, so I just... never asked my mother for spaghetti after that. Lesson learned. Don't ask mom for spaghetti or she'll call the damn police on you.
ROSE: I have this memory in my head, and it goes unquestioned until I say it out loud for the first time a few months back, and as soon as I say the words, "When I was six, my mom called the cops on me for asking for spaghetti," my adult logic slams into place and goes, "Hang on. Your mother definitely did not call the police on a six year old asking for spaghetti."
ROSE: Obviously, that's not what really went down. I call up my mother to tell her how I remember it, and on top of her figuring out why her kid has always been really cagey around spaghetti for the last couple decades, she tells me what really happened.
ROSE: On that night, a man tried to break into our house through the front window. It was just my mother and I, so she did what she felt she had to do and shot him in the head. He'd been wearing a helmet, which landed on the floor under the window.
ROSE: Now. I just... want you to put yourselves in my mother's shoes for a minute, here. This woman has just taken a human life. The trauma of that--the instant agony, the panic, the guilt, the fear--all of it hitting her at once, her only solace the knowledge that her child is safe. She protected her daughter. No matter the cost to her soul, her child is safe.
ROSE: Then she looks up and sees her six-year-old staring at the inside of this man's head before saying,
ROSE: "Are you going to eat all that?"
DAVE: .........................what the fucking
DAVE: ok. you know how it is with spaghetti
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janeyseymour · 25 days
Text
Won't You Be... My Neighbor?- pt 1
@schemmentis threw out the idea of a reversal of LTN, so... here it is. I hope it delivers.
WC: ~3.3k
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When Melissa Schemmenti had said “for better or for worse, til death do us part,” she had wholeheartedly meant it and believed it. She had seen the way that her parents had fallen out of love and divorced, and she swore that she would learn from their mistakes and find a real and true love- that she would fight for her love and her life, and that she would never end up the bitter divorcée like her mother, cursing the father of her child in front of said child. 
But here she was doing everything she promised herself she wouldn’t and packing her bags along with her son’s after she caught Joe in bed with his babysitter. And then he had the audacity to tell her that they needed to divorce- that he was in love with Alyssa and couldn’t keep this charade going.
“Fuckin’ asshole,” Melissa grumbles as she hold her son on her hip. “Sleeping with the nanny… fuckin’ babysitter fucker.”
“Momma.”
“I’m sorry Joey,” the redhead mumbles as she presses a kiss to the little boy’s head. She curses the day she let her idiot of a husband convince her to name their son after him. “I’m sorry… Momma’s just… mad.”
“Really mad?” the newly four year old asks.
Melissa just nods once before continuing to pack their bags.
“Momma?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re getting out of here,” the teacher sighs. “Daddy decided that we aren’t good enough for him anymore, and you know what? We’re better than him… so we’re leaving, and we’re goin’ to be real happy.”
The last thing that she packs before they leave for the night is the divorce papers. She shows up at Kristen Marie’s doorstep praying that her sister will be kind enough to let the two Schemmenti’s stay on her couch.
“Melissa? Joey?”
“Please don’t say his name,” Melissa groans as she rubs at her temple with the hand not holding her four year old. “I- I can’t right now without wanting to take my bat to that rat bastard’s car.”
“Rat bastard?” Joey echoes through a yawn. He reaches over for his aunt.
“Don’t repeat what Momma just said,” the blonde Schemmenti sister sighs as she takes the little boy into her arms. “What happened, Mel?”
“Asshole slept with the nanny, and then even after I forgave him for the sake of our son handed me divorce papers at dinner,” the redhead huffs. “Can we crash here on the couch for the night? If I have to look at him one more time tonight…”
“Stay as long as you need,” Kristen tells her sister as she roams further into her townhouse. “And you damn well know I ain’t letting you sleep on the couch when I have a perfectly good guest room.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” Melissa sighs softly. “Thank you.”
That was three months ago. In those three months, Joe had promised to give Melissa absolute hell when it came to the divorce and settling everything, claiming that Joe Jr. needed to be with his father. The redhead was adamant that their son, who she now called strictly “JJ”, would be staying with her. This divorce was getting intense and messy, and everything that the second grade teacher had hoped it wouldn’t be- but when there’s a small child involved, of course it would get messy.
In those three months though, the Schemmenti sisters had used their powers of knowing many different guys who were able to help throw together a decently sized apartment for cheap, and she was able to get a steal in terms of rent.
The two had just finished setting up JJ’s bedroom when Kristen Marie finally called it a day. And that leaves Melissa and her son. Her son who is absolutely starving and exhausted and not yet used to this new place that he was supposed to call home.
“Love,” the redhead sighs as she tries to soothe his wailing. The second grade teacher is positive that this place had thin walls, and her neighbors are going to hate her if he continued to cry like this.
“I want to go home!” JJ cries into his mother’s shoulder.
Melissa lets out a shaky breath. “This is home now.”
“No!” his little balled up fist collides with his mother’s shoulder blade. It takes everything in the redhead to not groan out in pain.
“JJ,” Melissa warns. “We do not hit Momma.”
“I don’t care!” he shouts as he does it again.
“Joseph Alexander,” the mother says sternly. She hates that her son shares a first name with his father, even more so now that they’re in the midst of a dirvorce.
The redhead closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Maybe we need to go on a walk. What do you think? I think that sounds like a great idea,” she thinks aloud. The woman knows that walking around with him while humming softly is almost a sure fire way to get him to fall asleep and stay asleep for at least thirty minutes while she makes dinner, and it has been the perfect way to lull him to sleep since he was born.
She steps out into the hallway and begins to bounce him gently as she walks up and down the hallway, mindlessly singing her favorite tunes softly. When she starts to sing “You Are My Sunshine” though, something else takes over in her body, and she can’t help the tears that form in her eyes. They fall down her cheeks so delicately, and with her son in her arms, she is unable wipe them away. There’s something different about the song now that her marriage had turned into a failed one, and Joe is truly trying to take her little boy, her sunshine, away.
And that’s when you just so happen to be making your way out of your own apartment from down the hall. You immediately hear the soft and sad tune that you’ve had memorized since you were little, and your gaze follows the voice. Your eyes land on a stunning redhead that you’ve never seen before who is holding a now sleeping little boy- and then you see that her eyes are sparkling with tears. Deciding not to overstep and say anything when it looks like this woman is clearly in distress, you simply wave at her gently with an encouraging smile before heading for the elevator.
Once Melissa is sure that JJ is out for at least a little bit, she heads back into the apartment and sets him on the couch. The mother drapes a blanket over her dozing son before pressing a soft kiss to his chubby little cheek and making her way into the kitchen.
It’s much later when you return back from the gym and freshen up in the shower. As you go to sit on the couch with a glass of wine to unwind for the night, you frown. Maybe you should check on that neighbor of yours. You’re familiar with everyone else who lives on your floor, so you know which door to knock on in order to find that beautiful emerald-eyed woman from earlier in the evening with a second glass of wine in hand to offer to the woman that you don’t know the name of.
Inside the apartment, Melissa is sitting on her new couch with a bowl of popcorn and a rather heavy pour of red wine as she watches her reality television show that she hasn’t had time to watch in the midst of the move. 
Your knock startles her. It’s loud enough to get her attention, and she grabs the bat that sits next to her for protection. She approaches the door with her bat in hand.
“Who is it?” the redhead yells just loud enough for you to hear, but not loud enough to wake the little boy in the other room.
“You the woman that just moved in?” you call back.
“What’s it to you?!” she asks, and her grip on the bat just gets tighter, although she knows it’s probably nothing worth worrying about. Your voice was light and sweet, even at the volume you were using.
“Saw you had a kid. Was wondering if you needed help with anything. You looked real stressed.”
At that, she opens the door just a crack, and she recognizes you as the woman she saw a few hours earlier. Her bat lowers, and she opens it a bit more.
“The help would’ve been nice while I was moving in,” she retorts.
“Trust me, if I were around this last week, I would’ve offered to help,” you sigh softly. “Away for work… but it’s nice to meet you now.” You offer her the glass of rosé wine that you had brought from down the hall.
“I’m already ahead of you there,” she sighs with a bitter chuckle. “Thank you though.”
“Yeah,” you laugh softly as you tuck a hair behind your ear. Now that you can see her up close and personal, you see that she really is stunning- beautiful red hair, sparkling jade colored eyes, straight teeth, and you would be lying if you hadn’t stolen a glance at her figure. “I thought it might be a nice way to introduce myself and welcome you to the second floor. If I- If I had anything for your little boy, I would’ve brought it over too, but I wasn’t aware that the new neighbor had a little boy.”
She purses her lips. “You don’t gotta act like you care about the new neighbors.”
“I don’t,” you give her that. “But I always go out of my way to try to make the newbies feel welcome- especially when I see that the new neighbor is upset in the hallway with her little boy on my way to the gym.”
That gets Melissa’s false bravado to break just slightly. “Sorry if that disturbed you. It’s the only way I can get him to go down for a nap when he’s like this- all riled up from the move.” 
You just raise a hand and shake your head gently. “No need to apologize. Your singing is a lot less disturbing than the sex I can hear my other neighbors having.”
The redhead can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous comment you just made. “I more meant his crying.”
“Little kids cry- my sister’s kid cries all the time. I’m used to it,” you chuckle softly. “Now seriously, do you need anything? How can I help?”
“I think I’m okay,” she tells you. “But I do appreciate the check in… Sorry I approached the door with a bat.”
You wave a hand in dismissal. “I get it. Being in West Philly by yourself as a woman can be scary- I have to admit I would’ve done the same thing.”
She just smirks at you.
“Well,” you sigh. “Have a good rest of your night, neighbor. Welcome to the second floor.”
You turn on your heel and start to head back down to your own apartment when her voice stops you. “Wait!” You turn back to face her. “I- I never got your name.”
“Y/N,” you smile at her.
“M- Melissa,” is all the redhead can stammer out as she takes a moment to memorize the name to the face. “And my son is JJ.”
“Well, it was really nice to meet you, Melissa. If you need me, I’m just two doors down at 208. Don’t be a stranger,” you wink at her before heading back into your own apartment.
The redhead stands there for a second, not quite knowing how to feel about you. You’re odd- the only Philadelphian who has given her the time of day, and then you wink at her? It’s different, and entirely the opposite of how most Philadelphians are, and somehow, she’s intrigued by you.
It’s the next day when you’re heading back from work that you stop at the Target on your way home to pick up groceries. When you pass the children’s section, you pause before turning your cart down that way. You throw a thing of Play-doh in before continuing down. If you run into Melissa today, you’ll give it to her for her son.
You do end up running into her as she’s trying to unlock her door. She has her son on her hip again, but she’s on the phone this time. She’s shouting into the phone as you pass her with the bags you’ve brought up. You dig through your bags before you hand her the little container filled with the clay for JJ, and she gives you an odd look. You just nod and smile before making your way into your apartment and unloading your groceries. 
When there’s a knock on your door, you jump just slightly as you pull the handmade pizza out of the oven. You set the dinner on the stove before making your way over to the front door. You glance out of your peephole, and there is Melissa with JJ on her hip and giggling with glee as he plays with the Playdoh you bought for him.
“Hey,” you open the door with a smile.
“We thought we would just stop by and say thank you,” the woman bounces the little boy on her hip gently. He giggles, but his eyes don’t leave his hands. “JJ, say thank you to Miss Y/N.”
“Thank you!” he grins as his eyes finally leave the dough in his hands.
Your smile only gets softer as you see how adorable the little guy is. “You’re so welcome. I’m glad you like it!”
“Like it?! I love it!” JJ squeals and kicks his legs with glee. “It’s my favorite color too! How did you know I loved blue?!”
“Thank you,” Melissa tells you gently. “You really didn’t have to do that.”
“I didn’t have to,” you shrug. “But I wanted to.”
The emerald-eyed woman doesn’t quite know what else to say, so there’s a bit of an awkward silence that washes over the two of you.
“Would you two like to come in for dinner? I made homemade pizza,” you offer, hoping to cut the tension and perhaps get to spend a bit of time with your new neighbors from down the hall.
“Pizza?!” JJ’s eyes light up at the word.
Melissa looks down at her son. “Baby, I thought you wanted pasta.”
“But Momma, pizza!” he shouts with enthusiasm.
Green eyes meet yours, as if she’s trying to find whatever game your playing. But you look genuine with your invite. “Are you sure we wouldn’t be intruding?”
“Positive,” you tell her softly. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure.”
Dinner is nice. Melissa is guarded at first, but her walls slowly come down as she truly sees that you have no malicious intention inviting her and her son in. JJ adores you immediately, telling his mother that he’s never had such good pizza. She has to admit too, your pizza is one of the best she’s had. She doesn’t know that your cousin owns a shop down the street, and you’ve tweaked his recipe to be better than the pies he sells.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” you chuckle softly as you start to clean up the meal. Then you glance to his mother. “Care for another glass of wine?”
“As much as I would love to,” she sighs. “I’ve gotta get my little man to get bed.”
“Ah, yes,” you smile. “I totally understand. Well, thanks for coming over.”
“Thank you for having us,” the redhead says genuinely as she wipes the four year old’s face clean of the sauce that’s spread all over. She wipes his hands, and then holds out her own for him to take.
He doesn’t take her hand though, and he instead runs over to you and hugs your leg. Your hand immediately goes to his back and pats it gently with the softest smile on your face.
“Thank you, Miss Y/N.” JJ looks up with you, and his eyes sparkle the way his mother’s do.
“Of course, sweetheart,” you tell him gently, voice warm and smooth like butter. You crouch down to his height and hug him properly.
Melissa watches the two of you with a bit of a twinkle in her eye. She’s in awe of how well you handle him. You’re definitely younger than her, but you have such a way with JJ- maybe it’s because you have a niece or a nephew, she remembers.
You give him one last gentle squeeze before letting him go. “I think your momma’s waitin’ for you, hun.”
He giggles before running over to the redhead and lifting his arms up with a soft request for, “Uppy.” Of course, the mother settles him on her hip with ease, and she tosses a thank you over her shoulder as she makes her way towards your front door. Something stops her though, and she turns back around into the kitchen where you’re washing dishes.
“If you want, you can pop over any time after 7:30 for a glass of wine,” she tells you. “JJ will be down for the night by then.”
“I’ll see you at eight,” you tell her softly, and you wink at her again. 
As Melissa tucks her son in for the night, she can’t help but wonder if you’ll show. There’s a big part of her that hopes that you’ll make your way down the hall, although she can’t quite place why she’s taken such an interest in you. She indeed has taken up an interest in you- you’re meek and mild, a sweet lady who has nothing but the best intentions from what she can see (and that’s quite hard for her to not be pessimistic about you, but you’ve managed to make her believe that you might just be good at the root of it all). You’re completely the opposite of her ex-husband and entirely not her type.
And at eight o’clock sharp, you show up at her door, a bottle of wine in hand.
“Hey,” you sigh softly when she opens the door for you. “I brought wine.”
“Wine’s on me, hun,” the redhead rolls her eyes. “You make dinner on a night where I really didn’t want to cook, so I provide the drinks after. What do you like?”
You shrug. “I’ll drink whatever.”
She pours a glass of red- and while you aren’t necessarily a fan of any type of red blend, you take it and sip on it. It tastes much better when it comes from someone as beautiful as her. 
“So,” you start as you settle on her couch. “Do you wanna talk about that rather heated phone call I caught you in the middle of earlier today?”
She closes her eyes and takes a shaky breath.
“Hey,” you say gently, and you reach a hand out to lay over hers. “If you don’t wanna talk about it, we don’t gotta.”
“Shit soon-to-be ex-husband,” is all she says, and you immediately understand. The frown that washes over your face is one that you can’t hide.
“I’m sorry,” you tell her immediately.
She shrugs. “Caught him fucking the babysitter. He handed me the divorce papers three months ago, and now I’m in a damn custody battle over my son… like hell is he going to get JJ.”
“Custody battle?”
“Yeah,” the redhead groans. “And my lawyer is taking his sweet ol’ time, so right now, I’m shit out of luck.”
“I- I may be able to help you with that one,” you tell her. Her brows raise, and that’s when you reveal what you do for a profession. “I’m a lawyer… specifically in family court.”
TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson
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entitled-fangirl · 26 days
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Miller baby.
Pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader
Summary: the reader goes into labor.
Warnings: pregnancy, tooth-rotting fluff
Masterlist
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Any day now.
Their sweet Miller baby was due at any point. 
Joel wasn't sure about all of it at the beginning, but as he saw Y/N swell by the day with his child, he became more open to the idea. 
Especially after Sarah's reaction when they told her the news:
"OH MY GOD, I'M GETTING A SISTER?" She yelled in the living room.
"OR a brother," Joel reasoned, "Can't say for sure yet."
"It's a girl, though." Sarah nodded, "I can feel it."
He laughed, "You can't feel nothin'."
Now the due date was approaching. 5 more days. Y/N was settled on the couch, breathing heavy, as she had been doing the entire week before as well. While she had intended to wait on Joel's arrival from work, the call to sleep had become too strong and won her over. 
Joel entered the house, setting his bag down rougher than he meant to. He threw his keys on the table by the door and shrugged off his jacket.
Expecting Y/N to have greeted him at this point, his eyes finally started to take in the room.
She was fast asleep at this point.
He smiled, cursing himself for being loud before. 
He quietly shrugged off his shoes and tiptoed to the couch where she laid. 
She glowed, even asleep at 9 months pregnant. 
He couldn't help running his fingers out her forehead softly to push the hair from her face.
Her eyes opened softly at the feeling.
"J…Joel?" She asked groggily.
His smile brightened.
"Hi, darlin'." 
She sits up and rubs her eyes, "When did you get home?"
"Just now. Don't worry." He rubs her thigh gently.
She nods and swings her legs to the side of the couch.
Joel's eyebrows furrowed, "What are ya doing, hon?"
"I'm gonna get up and make dinner." She says like it's a normal thought.
He laughs, "The hell you are!"
She's taken back by his tone, "W…what?"
"Oh, hon. I'm sorry." He cups her face, "I was teasing. I don't want you getting up and around like that just on account of me. I can make dinner."
She shakes her head, "But Sar-"
"Sarah will be fine." He reasoned, "She's staying at a friend's house tonight."
"Oh," she relaxed. "Okay. Well, you've worked hard today, so I'll-"
"Hey," he grabbed her hands gently. "Hey. Just…. Stay there. I'm not gonna let you."
Her face dropped, "Why not?"
Joel smiled sweetly, "Sweetheart, I've got it. You relax. I'm making dinner."
She nodded, "Okay, but I need to get up, anyway." 
He nods and grabs her arm to help her up. 
She lets out a little grunt and her eyes close in pain.
"Hon?" He asked, worriedly, "You hurtin'?"
She sighs and nods her head, "'m fine."
"Contraction?" He asked.
She nods.
"How far apart, darlin'? Talk to me." He says, pulling her close on the couch.
"I don't know, Joel," she says. "Maybe… six minutes?"
"SIX?" He yells, "Jesus. C'mon. We're going to the hospital."
She immediately pauses and breaks out a sob.
His face softens, "Oh." His voice sweetens, "Oh, darlin'. What… what's going on?"
"I.. I CAN'T DO THIS!" She sobbed.
"Sweet girl, c'mon." He sighed, rubbing her stomach softly. "You can do this. You're gonna be a great mother. You already are with Sarah."
"I love Sarah," she whines through the tears. "I just can't do this."
"Well, that's the only way we can get the baby here."
She sniffles, "I'm not strong enough to do this, Joel."
He smiles, "Darlin'. We'll just take you to the hospital. They know what they're doing."
She wipes her tears and nods, "Okay… okay."
"Alright. I'll grab the bag, you just get in the car."
"You're doing it. Good girl. You're doing so good." Joel sighed in her hair.
"Alright. Now push." The doctor said.
It felt like her body was being ripped in two. But at least the baby would be here when she was done. That was what she was telling herself. 
Joel brushed her sweaty hair from her forehead. "Almost there, darlin."
The sound of a baby crying relieved the both of them. 
"A healthy baby boy."
Y/N smiled sleepily. Joel felt his breath leave his lungs.
"He has your hair, Joel." Y/N smiled at the sight of the baby.
"You've made the prettiest boy, darlin'."
"We did."
"Yeah, we did."
Sarah had to refrain from screaming in joy at the sight of her new baby sibling.
"Oh. My. God." She whisper yelled.
Joel helped Y/N further into the house. "C'mon. Let's sit you down."
She slowly sat on the couch and grunted.
Sarah ran to Joel, who had the baby carry on his arm. "He's really ours?!"
Joel laughed, "Yeah, he's ours."
"I'm gonna be the BEST older sister, I promise!" 
Y/N laughed next. "Wanna go change his diaper?"
Sarah's face dropped, "Nevermind. I'm good. I'll just be mediocre." And she ran from the room.
Joel couldn't hold in his laugh as he set the carrier down. "You sleep. I'll take the baby."
Y/N smiled, "Thank you Joel."
He sat on the couch next to her. "'Course. I knew you could do this."
She sighed and closed her eyes, "I love you, Joel."
"I love you, darlin'."
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omarfor-orchestra · 1 year
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"Non farlo piangere" girl he literally cries in his mother's arms when he's trying to fall asleep because he gets frustrated when he can't and now I'm making him cry???????????????
#i don't understand how they see this child thing#he's a child. he cries. sometimes he cries for things you have to say no about#like you must say no. why is it so hard for you to understand it and most importantly why the HELL am I the one who's somehow behaving#like the mother when she's not around#I'm so pissed off about this situation Imma scream one day#again. i love my nephew more than my honestly unworthy life for what I'm doing with it#but I'm 23 and i never asked to be a mother and i just want to do my things and have like a little corner for myself#and to be left alone for 5 minutes#which can't happen apparently bc I can't even go to the bathroom without my mother going 'let's see what auntie is doing!'#gurl what do you think I'm doing???????#I'm so fucking tired#and once again why the hell does he have to sleep here tonight when his father is perfectly able to take care of him#i swear if i were to see him once a week I'd be more than happy but every day gets exhausting#and in the middle of it all i also have to listen to my mother scold me for no reason. no one ever says 'oh thank you'#jesus christ#I'll never EVER have children btw#and i hope I don't fall in love with a cis man because if this is how they are I'm very tempted to commit a murder rn#I'm tired out of my mind bc me and my mother had to cook and clean the whole house for tomorrow. do you think#my father raised a single finger despite knowing we needed a hand?#fuck them when i get financially stable enough to leave they'll see me once a year#if they're lucky#again. I can't have my therapist tell me all this things which i start to think about daily and leave me on my own for a whole week#bc then i go insane#sorry I'll prob delate this later#rant#i realize now the post doesn't make sense without context but i was trying to make him sleep and he cried a little#like he. always does btw but somehow today it was my fault
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skylarsblue · 14 days
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★RDR2 Incorrect Quotes★
(If you see duplicates from my COD version of these? Shh, no you didn't) ★Border made by @fairytopea★
Ms.Grimshaw What are you doing, you oaf? Young!Arthur, staring at Y/N: They’re pretty. Ms.Grimshaw …and you’re ugly, now get back to work.
- (Pre-joining the gang) Abigail, trying to get paid: What’s your favorite color, John? John: Blue. No, green. Abigail: Awesome! I love learning about you. John: I fucked up, it’s yellow.
- Arthur, cutting a huge knot out of John’s hair: I fucked up, we gotta go bald. *head locks him still* Young!John, flailing violently: WAAAAAHHHH-
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Seán: Psst, Lenny, ay mate, wake up! Lenny: Huh- Wh-what? What is it? Seán: I heard something outside the tent. Lenny: What? Seán: Like a woman crying in the distance, but I couldn’t hear her footsteps. Lenny: Okay?? What do you want me to do? Seán: Come look with me! Lenny: Hell no! Seán: Why not? Lenny: I got too much melanin and too much sense for that white people shit. You wanna let demons get you, be my guest, leave me out of it.
- (John HAD to have SOMETHING that captivated her, for humor’s sake? We’ll say he had jokes)
Abigail: You have to find my darling husband, I’m so worried about him. Arthur: Seriously, what do you see in that guy? Abigail: He makes me laugh.
- Micha: I've got the urge to say something. Arthur: And what's that? Micha: The N-Word- Arthur: WHOA-
- Bill: But seriously, is it your whole emo thing that she’s into or what? John: …yeah, long flowing straight hair, very emo.
- Karen: This- Hmm. Tilly: Be nice. Karen: I’m findin’ it. Mary-Beth: …it takes you that long to find- Karen: It does, it does.
- (O’Driscoll troubles) Kieran: Arthur we’re going to get murdered. We’re going to get murdered by a man who can’t tie a fucking bow tie. Arthur: At least he won’t torture us, can’t tie a rope either.
- John: Ugh, you know they’re gonna make us do one of those tacky family happiness photos that comes in the restaurants shitty frame. Tilly: Why are you so fucking negative all the time? John: Wh- uh- I just- Arthur: *slowly sucks tea through straw*
- Seán: Someone just said; “You’re a criminal!” Seán: *handkerchief on, gun in one hand, bag of money in the other* Seán: Well I’ll tell ya what, Sherlock Holmes. You are unbelievable.
- The Gang: Arthur is dying and Micha is a rat! Dutch, dancing with money: *insert that audio that goes “I don’t give a fuck cause I’m a ✨millionaire✨, I do what I want, middle finger in the air!”*
- John, drunk: You think the wind is ever tryna tell us something and we don’t know how to hear it anymore? Charles, loading up a drunk Arthur into a wagon: I just want you to stop saying odd shit.
- Abigail: If we lose, I’m gonna cut the judge. John: Wh- you brought your switchblade?? Abigail: Mhm. John: But they patted us down on the way in, where did you hide i- ohhhhhhh.
- Arthur: …you ever wish you could just, turn into a bird and fly away from everything? Charles: I think we need to get you to a therapist for depression. John: I’d wanna be a wolf. Charles: And we should get you psych evaluation for Autism.
- Sheriff: You seem like a reasonable and good natured person. Arthur: *looks around* And you look like you need glasses.
- Abigail: What would your father say?! Jack: Uhhh “I’ll fix it!” And then make it worse until luck comes around and makes it work, and then act like that was the plan the whole time? Abigail: …that’s my bad, I should’ve used a different phrase to express my disappointment.
- (I dunno why but John being super mean to some people is so fucking funny to me. I don't hate Bill, but bullying him is fun)
Bill: You enjoyin’ the wife everyone else paid to have? John: You mean the woman I never had to pay for? The woman who liked me so much, she didn’t ask for any money to sleep with me? In fact; she liked me so much, she married me? The woman who makes me a warm dinner and kisses me everyday? Mother of my child? John: I am enjoyin’ yeah. What about you, Bill? Bill: John: You enjoyin’ your lonely life, you unlovable sorry sack of shit? You enjoyin’ having to pay for someone to pretend they like you? Cause they never actually do. They hate you actually, like me. I hate you. Eat shit and die, Bill.
- Arthur: …him? Really? Mary-Beth Don’t be mean! Arthur: He looks like a rescue dog, Mary-Beth. Mary-Beth: I know, I like that! Arthur: ….you like that?? Mary-Beth: His pathetic wet eyes and general wimpy stature have captivated me. Arthur: *sigh* Whatever makes you happy.
- Bill: At the end of the day, Arthur. I am a MAN. Arthur: A MAN WHO’S GAY. You like fellers GETTHATTHROUGHYOURHEAD!
- Dutch: I have a plan. Hosea: You haven’t planned shit. Dutch: I’ve planned it.
- Hosea: Arthur! What on earth are you doing?! Young!Arthur: Getting rid of this demon. Young!John: *screeching and trying to get out of Arthur’s grip* Hosea: And why do you plan to get rid of him? Arthur: Because, Hosea! He woke me up by leaning over me and whispering, “I know what death feels like, it’s cold. Have you felt death?” Arthur: HE’S CLEARLY EVIL, HOSEA Hosea: That’s just how children are, Arthur. Dutch: He’s right son, put the boy down. Dutch, leaning and whispering to Hosea: But maybe we should buy a Bible just in case. Hosea: And a cross.
- (Modern au and suicide joke)
John: It’s not a phase! It’s a lifestyle, you just wouldn’t get it! Arthur: You think I didn’t go through the “I can’t tell if I want to kill myself or everyone around me” phase? Come on. John: What? I don’t wanna kill myself at all. Arthur: … John: … John: Should I- should we go talk to Hose- Arthur: We should forget this conversation happened. Take this Nirvana CD and keep your mouth shut.
- Abigail: …John. John: Yes, my angel? Abigail: You forgot something. John: No I didn’t! I took the list with me, checked it three times, even crossed things off when I put it in the cart! See, look. Apples, frozen hamhocks, cranberry juice- Abigail: John. You took Jack with you. John: Abigail: John: Abigail: John: SHIT I LEFT HIM BY THE PASTA SECTION Abigail: STOP STANDING THERE AND GO GET HIM!
- Jack: Pa, how did you get mom to marry you? John: Well son, I- John: John: I have no idea. Jack: Should I ask mom? John: I’ll be honest, I don’t think she knows the answer either.
- Charles: You did good back there. Arthur: Oh? Heh, nah, you did all the fancy stuff. I just helped. Charles: Don’t undersell yourself, Arthur. I wouldn’t be complimenting you for no reason. Arthur: Oh yeah? And here I thought you were just trying to fluff up my ego. Charles: Wouldn’t hurt to do when you work so hard, no? Arthur: Now you’re just being’ sweet- John: Can y’all wait til we’re done before you start your spiritual dick sucking? Arthur: Can you repent to the lord fast enough to save your soul in the time it’ll take me to throw you into the damn ocean, Marston?!
- Arthur: Do you even have a brain? John: Do you even have someone that loves you? Arthur: John: John: I heard it that time, I’m sorry. Arthur: This is what Abigail hears sometimes, just so you know. John: I heard it that time, I got it. I- I’ll just- Arthur: Whiskey, full bottle. The nice kind. John: Apology alcohol, got it.
-
NPC: My husband’s parents are so crazy. In-laws always are, huh? Abigail: Well, uh-
*John being an orphan* *John’s adoptive dads being criminals, one particularly off his rocker*
Abigail: ….aha, yeah;;
- Abigail: John Marston, you useless, foolish, stupid man! Bill: To hell with John! Abigail, suddenly with a very large gun: NO ONE INSULTS MY HUSBAND.
- Arthur, holding up a proper painting he actually put time and effort into: Could a depressed person make this? Charles: The painting: *a wolf in the rain laying it’s head over the body of a deer shot with an arrow* Charles: I’m, in fact, more convinced you have depression now. Arthur: …yeah this wasn’t the best evidence for my argument, huh? Charles: No. Not at all.
- John: What are you talking about? That’s completely normal, it’s like having opinions. just cause it doesn’t happen to you doesn’t mean- Tilly: No, John! No. It’s not normal to have that reaction to the sound of hearing metal on metal. John: No look, uh- Arthur! Arthur come here! Arthur: What now? John: What happens when you hear metal on metal? Like, a can bein’ rubbed with a knife. Arthur: Ugh, I hate that sound. It makes my damn skin crawl, like I got beetles underneath. Makes me wanna skin myself to get’em out. John: Right! See, Tilly? It’s not just me! Tilly: ????
Charles: …and you never got them evaluated? Hosea: In hindsight, an autistic diagnosis probably would’ve made more things make sense. But, what can ya do.
- Arthur after a dog didn’t positively react to him: Maybe this is my final straw. Charles: No. Arthur: It might be. Charles: It’s one dog. There are twenty that you stopped to pet along the way here, plenty more for you to pet after this. Arthur: You don’t understand, this is devastatin’. Charles: Arthur, please- Arthur: Utterly devastatin’, Charles.
- Arthur, tipsy: Just cause you’re gorgeous don’t mean I’ma do whatever you say. Charles: Drink the water, Arthur. Arthur: *grabs the glass* Yes, sir.
- (Got a Y/N one, also, modern Au)
Arthur: That’s the Aberdeen farm. Y/N: …what’s wrong with it? Arthur: What’cha mean? Y/N: The vibes, they’re off. Arthur: …the…vibes? Y/N: The energy, Mister Morgan. The vibe of the place. They’re off, they’re weird, wack even. I sense insidious and wretched wavelengths wafting from the aura of that property. Arthur: I see…well, to answer your question, it’s cause they are weird. And I ain’t even confirmed why cause I don’t really wanna know. Y/N: I see you can also sense the vibes are rank. Arthur: …sure, whatever that means.
- Micha: Well I think- Y/N: Well I’m certain no one fucking asked, Micha! Not a single damn person asked what the hell you thought, ever! In fact, I’m pretty sure you don’t think. I’m pretty sure your skull fills with all the bullshit in your organs, and it just spills out your mouth! Micha: Micha: I- Y/N: Shut up, Micha!
- Arthur, after Albert explains some super dangerous plan in order to get wild animals near him to photograph: You’re stupid, I like that in a man.
- Y/N: Bye Arthur, bye Karen, bye Hosea, bye Arthur. Sadie: You said ‘bye Arthur’ twice. Y/N: I like Arthur.
- NPC: Lovebirds, eh? Sadie: Arthur: Sadie: I’d rather eat a poison ivy plant with Holly Berries for dressing. *looks at Arthur* No offense. Arthur: No no, none taken. All things considered, I’d rather dive into a pit of tar and then drag myself face first through a plain of rotten chitlins. Sadie: Completely fair!
- Bill: I need you to realize you ain’t in charge here. Y/N: I need you to realize I don’t give a shit.
- Arthur: Hey Charles, uh, I got an Uhm…a spiritual question. Charles: Any particular reason you chose to ask me? Arthur: Uh well- I didn’t mean for it to be like that- I just- Charles: *sigh* What is it? Arthur: Do you know what it means when an elk stands up on its back legs? Charles: That means- Charles: WE SHOULD LEAVE, we need to leave, that’s what that means!
- Jack: …why are your boobs so big? Charles: They’re not boobs. Jack: Do you have to wear a brasier? Charles: *sigh* Arthur: He asked me the same thing a couple weeks ago, don’t think to hard bout it.
-
(Story spoilers!!) Y/N: I'm sorry, let me get this straight. Y/N: You picked up that man when he was a destitute child, grieving and starving. Taught him almost everything he knows. Y/N: Then, you did that with, what? Three others? In similar circumstances? Y/N: Created a sense of family and community, a strong bond between so many misfortuned people. With your trustworthy long term friend by your side. Y/N: And then. Y/N: One RAT. WHO IS OPENLY ANTAGONISTIC AND REEKS OF SUSPICION AS MUCH AS HE DOES HORSE SHIT, SOMEHOW CONVINCES YOU TO GO OFF YOUR ROCKER AND HARM YOUR GANG?! Y/N: Explain! Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: He praised me- Y/N: YOUR PRAISE KINK GOT YOU TO AIM A GUN AT YOUR SONS????
- Arthur: Naaah they’re an angel. Lenny: They punched Bill in the face. Seán: They told Strauss he was a waste of human material, in his own language, which they’re not fluent in. Mary-Beth: They framed Micha for a crime and got him put in prison again. Arthur: Like I said, an angel!
- John: Woman. (Translation: Darling.) Abigail: Moron. (Translation: Lovebug.)
Arthur: You tellin’ me they’re being affectionate right now? Jack: Can’t’cha read subtext, Uncle Arthur? Arthur: ???
-
(Insert Alcohol is truth serum reference)
Drunk Bill: Not to be gay, but you’re gorgeous bro. Kieran, afraid: You don’t have to be gay to appreciate a man’s beauty. Absolutely shit-faced Bill: Nah, like I’d fuck you, bro. Kieran, terrified: Okay, never mind!
- (How I imagine their first couple years together went)
Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: How do you feel about me? Hosea, naked & beside him: ….we’re sharin’ a bedroll, Dutch. Dutch: Yes, but what are we, Hosea? Hosea: ….we’re both naked, alone, in a tent, Dutch. Dutch: That doesn’t answer my question. Hosea:
- (This one's sad, not funny, sorry-) John: You’re such a hypocrite, why is it that anything I do that you’ve done before that you get so bent outta shape?! Arthur: Because I’ve done it before you, John. John: So why do you think it’s fair to tell me not to?! Most people are proud when their younger brother ends up like’em. You don’t want anyone like you, is that it? Arthur: John: John: …oh. Arthur: Now that you got my point, will you take my god damn advice without a big fuss…please.
- John: She drives me insane! She somehow managed to make me the angriest I’ve ever been almost daily. NPC: Then leave her. John: The fu- no. What? She’s the wind beneath my wings, my darling wife, my beautiful angel. How the hell could you even think to suggest such a thing? NPC: But- John: Get outta my sight, you fuckin’ disgrace.
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sc0tters · 8 months
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Decisions, Decisions | Sidney Crosby
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summary: you begin to prepare for the birth of your baby and the chaos that ensues when Sidney learns about his child.
request: yes/no
warnings: swearing, legal age gap (reader is 23!)
word count: 3.32k
authors note: Luna told me to carry this story on so I did. I decided to make it into a three part series as I don’t know how to end this off (so let me know what you want to see) but I didn’t want this part to get too long. Regular italics are flashbacks and these bold indented lines are how many weeks pregnant the reader is.
previous part | final part
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It had been three weeks since you learnt you were pregnant.
10 weeks
You felt sick most mornings but he never noticed.
Sidney played oblivious to the fact that he had slept with you acting like that night had never happened.
Your belly has started to grow but it still wasn’t noticeable “you know peanut the size of a prune?” Connor laughed as he had been reading up about his future niece or nephew “I’d like peanut to let me keep my breakfast down.” You pointed out looking at your brother on the FaceTime call.
Connor had to admit that his heart broke for you going through his alone “he should know.” The hockey player pointed out hinting to the father of your baby.
It made you roll your eyes “until he talks to me I’m not telling him anything.” You mumbled fiddling with the end of your shirt.
The minute you learnt about the pregnancy you called Connor “hey I can’t really-“ he cut himself off the second he heard the sound of you crying “you okay?” Connor asked quickly growing alarmed.
You could barely breathe “I’m pregnant Con,” you announced feeling yourself growing sick at the realisation of what was happening.
Thankfully your brother was there to calm you down “he doesn’t know,” you added hyperventilating as your eyes went wide “who are you talking about?” Connor sat on his bed as he didn’t think you were with anyone at that moment.
“Sidney fucking Crosby.”
20 weeks
You were able to keep Sidney unaware of your baby as you had opted for wearing large sweaters which nobody cared about as it was December.
Sidney had stopped arguing with you as much as he picked up that something was off when you lost the energy to fight him “do you want to know the gender?” Your OB asked as she was staring at the ultrasound screen.
The older woman had a soft spot for you after you let it slip that the baby daddy didn’t know about his child “yes-no-maybe?” You shrugged watching the screen as you didn’t know what you wanted “yes, yes I do.” You finally settling on an answer.
She laughed taking the pictures for you “you are the proud mother to a baby girl,” she announced as you thought you’d be happy to hear that, you dreamed of having a daughter since you were young.
But now that it was a reality you couldn’t help but grow nervous thinking about her not knowing her father.
Surely this was going to be the push that you needed to tell Sidney the truth.
25 weeks
The day had finally arrived, not for you to give birth, but for the rematch against the Blackhawks. This time in Chicago.
You begged Connor to keep his mouth shut but as you watched him cross check Sidney, you knew your request had fallen on deaf ears.
Connor practically had smoke coming out of his ears he was so angry “should have kept your dick in your fucking pants.” He spat as he shoved his finger into the older man’s chest.
Sidney wanted to laugh as the rookie took him on “your sister tell you about everyone she sleeps with?” Sure Sidney knew that you were close to your brother but surely this crossed a line.
The Blackhawks player sucked at his teeth “she tells me about the ones who don’t step up.” Connor pointed out as he hit the older players shoulder before he skated off “what the hell is he talking about?” Sidney muttered to himself as he locked eyes with you on the bench.
He was definitely going to talk to you about it now.
From the moment the game ended you were trying to avoid Sidney, that worked until you got back to the hotel “y/n wait!” The Canadian called out as he saw you walking to your room.
Your legs tried to move faster as you tried to hold onto your notebooks that were in your hand “hey!” Sidney grumbled as he grabbed your hand spinning you around in the process.
The books slipped from your hand landing on the ground with your favourite ultrasound picture sliding right in front of Sidney’s feet.
You felt your heart drop as the boy leaned down to pick it up “is it mine?” His voice was soft as he looked up to see that the colour had drained from your face.
Sidney would have been panicking but this was like the final piece of the puzzle of the words that Connor had put into his head “Sid-” you sighed looking down at the ground “is this child fucking mine y/n!” The hockey player raised his voice causing you to step back with tears welling in your eyes.
Part of you felt like you needed to sit down “if you’re asking if it’s from that night then yes.” You mumbled as you nodded letting your hand slip under your sweater as you felt a kick.
Peanut had been enjoying her active moments during her fathers hockey games “and you didn’t think it was important to tell me?” Sidney let out a dry laugh as he ran his fingers down his jaw.
It was surprising that nobody was seen in the hall as you two had this conversation “you didn’t exactly make it sound like wanted to know about it.” You pointed out as you tucked your hair behind your ears.
The morning after you woke up to an empty bed, actually an empty apartment.
Sidney had slipped out whilst you were fast asleep “sorry y/n,” he mumbled pressing a kiss to your forehead.
There were no two ways about it, Sidney felt disgusting thinking about what he had done. You were this young beautiful girl who had her whole life ahead of her but here he was trying to screw it up. He thought you were beautiful, the kind of girl his parents would want him to bring home. Most of all he loved how you spoke to him, no girl that he’d ever met had that sent him back the shit that he gave you.
Four months ago when his mom came to town and finally got the chance to meet you it took her four minutes to realise that her son was in love with you.
And that was the reason he left. Sidney told himself he that he was doing the best thing for you, because deep down inside if he continued to tell himself that the life of a bachelor was for him then maybe he’d forget about you.
But that wasn’t what went through your mind as you were left hurt with no sign of life from the older boy.
Your pride got in the way and stopped you from ever asking him why he left you that night.
Sidney’s eyes pierced your soul as he contemplated telling you why he left “I had a right to know about this child,” he pointed out crossing his arms.
You scoffed as you rolled your eyes “just like I had a right to know where you were in the morning?” Your words hit him like a slap in his face.
When he remained silent you nodded pushing past him “look I don’t expect you to understand this or be on board.” You announced trying to be mature about the fact that you were growing his child in your belly “but I’ve survived this far and your daughter doesn’t need you if you’re going to not really give a shit about you.” You added tapping his shoulder as you watched him stare at the ultrasound picture in his hand.
With that you decided to leave him as you walked to away “daughter?” Sidney furrowed his eyebrows letting his thumb rub over the image of the baby “you’re gonna be a girl dad.” You nodded leaving him alone in the hall.
Tears formed in his eyes as he realised what his actions had meant for him.
Sidney was going to have to change things quickly.
26 weeks
Sidney sat in the cafe as he patiently waited for you to arrive “hey y/n,” he was clearly nervous as he saw you walk in.
You were wearing your new favourite sweater that had PITTSBURGH printed out in big bold yellow letters on the grey material “hi,” you mumbled awkwardly standing there as he clearly going for a hug “what did you want to talk about?” You asked sitting down in your seat.
He took in how gorgeous you looked even with no makeup on and your day five hair in a messy bun “look I want to be apart of our child’s life.” Sidney confessed softly not wanting possible fans from around him to hear what he had to say.
Your eyes went down to the menu “c’mon y/n I deserve a chance.” The hockey player reached out to place his hand on yours “how do I know you’re not going to leave one day when shit gets too hard?” You placed your hands on your lap still clearly hurt about what he had done all those months ago.
It had made you feel stupid offering your body up to someone in the way you had done for him only to then watch him leave before the sun came up “all I’m asking for is a second chance.” Sidney pleaded as he let his hands wrap around his coffee cup.
Connor’s voice was in your head reminding you of the fact that you were scared to do this alone “one chance, you fuck it up and you’re out Crosby.” Your warning reminded him that you were mad at him and that despite there being a child inside of you it wasn’t going to make everything okay.
“I won’t let you down Bedard.”
“I’m not the one you should be promising that to.”
28 weeks
Now almost everyone knew about your baby after one of the rookies saw you in nothing more than a vest and leggings when he walked into your office unannounced and let it slip to the rest of the team. The comments and questions were quickly shut down when Sidney threatened them all with extra laps, which of course you greatly appreciated.
But that didn’t matter as you were sat in the doctors office alone staring at the forms that you had to fill in “sorry I’m late,” Sidney’s loud entrance caused all of the expecting fathers in the waiting room jaws to drop.
He sat in the seat next to you as he placed his hand on your knee “I started thinking that you weren’t going to come.” You confessed drawing a smile from his lips “you lack faith in me y/n,” you wanted to hit him but you couldn’t when your doctor stuck her head out of her office “nice to see that the dad is joining us.” She sent you a wink as you walked into her office.
Sidney felt like a nervous wreck as he watched you pull your sweater over your belly “you’ve seen a whole lot more of me before Sid.” You pointed out sending him a smile which quickly left your face as the cold gel hit your stomach “felt that before y/n,” Sidney matched your teasing tone as you stuck your tongue out at him.
Your OB laughed as she watched the interaction between you two “want to see how peanut is doing?” She asked pulling your attention away from the boy in front of you.
The hockey player raised his eyebrows “peanut?” He cocked his head “hey you weren’t ever when I voted-” you were cut off when your baby popped up onto the screen.
“Peanut is perfect.”
30 weeks
Sidney had spent the last two weeks learning all about your child as he watched you begin nesting “should we get both?” Sidney asked holding up two different car seats.
A laugh left your lips as you shook your head “she does not need two car seats or two strollers.” You crossed your arms feeling like his wealth was truly showing.
The boy placed the box back on the stand “peanut deserves whatever she wants,” he pointed out as he made you laugh again “our daughter is gonna wrap you around her finger so tight it’s gonna hurt.” You smiled as you placed your hand on his shoulder looking at the one stroller you preferred more “peanut should get this one.” You added pointing at it.
He nodded picking the box up as he followed you to the next section “her and her mom already do,” Sidney mumbled to himself as he referred to your earlier comment.
You spun around furrowing your eyebrows “you say something?” You asked causing his eyes to go wide “nope.” Sidney was quick to shake his head desperately hoping that you didn’t hear what he said.
31 weeks
The last six weeks were spent for Sidney trying to win you back “I’m just asking for one meal!” Sidney complained as he had been trying to persuade you to go to dinner with him for the last fifteen minutes “look Sid the last thing I want is to wear some uncomfortable shoes and try to fit into a dress that would have fit me pre peanut.” You pointed out as you knew what the hockey player would plan.
It made the boy frown “what do you want to do then?” He asked wondering if that was how low you thought of him.
You pursed your lips together as you thought about it “pizza and a movie.” You also wanted a bubble bath but that didn’t feel like something that you should mention to Sidney especially after the last time he saw you naked you ended up with a baby in your belly.
It didn’t even take him a minute before he nodded “you got yourself a deal Bedard,” Sidney had to admit that it sounded peaceful having a movie night with you before little peanut was born.
31 weeks
Sidney walked into your apartment with a smile as he held the three boxes of pizza “didn’t know which one you wanted so I went with your favourites.” He explained as he placed the white boxes on the table “you don’t know my favourite pizza Crosby,” you pointed out knowing that it was not going to be something he’d just pick up on.
Instead the boy smirked “got Hawaiian because you’ve been craving pineapple, margarita because of your cheese craving, and pepperoni because who doesn’t like pepperoni?” Sidney looked proud of himself as he turned around to see that you were staring at him in awe “what?” He furrowed his eyebrows when you kept silent.
Surely it had to be the pregnancy hormones that made you think he was kissable in that moment “nothing,” you shook your head deciding to go for a piece of pizza instead as you hoped it would make your brain forget about the boy who stood next to you.
32 weeks
The moment Sidney’s parents learnt that they were going to be grandparents they were on the next flight into Pittsburgh “your mom already loves me Sid,” you reminded him as you watched the Canadian wipe his palms on his pants “I’m worried about what she’s gonna do to me.” Sidney mumbled feeling like he was going to throw up.
You sighed turning to let your whole body face him “look we have survived this long acting like we have it together so let’s just continue doing that?” You proposed as you wrapped your hands around his hoping that it would calm his nerves.
Sidney blinked his eyes as he thought about kissing you “right that was probably stupid of me to even suggest that.” You mumbled quickly retracting your hands as your eyes went wide.
He was quick to act as he hooked his fingers under your jaw bringing his lips to your own. At first you were shocked that he kissed you but then instead you just melted into the kiss groaning as his tongue slid across your lower lip “we’re here!” Sidney’s mother called out causing the two of you to jump away from each other.
Well that was a conversation for another day.
33 weeks
To say you were irritated was putting it lightly.
Alex had called you at almost midnight saying that Sidney was drunk at some bar flirting with a girl. The blonde had picked up on the car rides you were taking with Sidney as he took you to your doctor appointments, he knew Sidney was the father of your baby and he didn’t even have to ask “he’s back there.” The reason why he had called you was because Alex didn’t want Sidney screwing up the relationship that he had with you “Sidney!” You grumbled ready to hit him.
Your were in your leggings and some old training camp shirt that Sidney had given you “hey baby,” the boy smiled as he held his arms out so that he could hug you.
What he didn’t expect was that you’d reach out to slap him instead “I’ll let you deal with him,” the girl mumbled shaking her head as she left figuring that there were easier battles to fight than one that involved the pregnant woman.
The boy poured his lips as he cupped his cheek where you had hit him “what was that for?” He asked letting out a gasp as you pulled him through the crowd of people to the door “can you please grow up Sidney?” You begged wanting to have this conversation with a sober Sidney.
That seemed to do the trick as he nodded finally realising how sore his cheek was “you’ve got a hit on you Bedard,” he complained feeling his jaw throb.
You crossed your arms “what the hell was that Sid?” You asked as tears formed in your eyes.
Tonight you should’ve been watching reruns of the bachelor, not trying to deal with your drunken baby daddy “just wanted to have a fun night before the baby came,” Sidney confessed not seeing how stupid he sounded.
It took everything in you not to hit him for a second time that night “you don’t get to do things like that anymore,” you shook your head feeling like the biggest idiot in the world “to think that I thought you’d actually want me too.” You let out a laugh as tears formed in your eyes.
Sidney’s expressions softened “y/n,” he reached out to grab your hand but you were quick to pull away.
All of those memories preparing for peanuts arrival, the moments shopping, trying to build her crib together, seeing her little body grow in each scan, the way you’d grab Sidney’s hand and place it in your belly the second she kicked, all felt like they were getting thrown down the drain in that very moment.
So with all of the respect that you had left for yourself you tucked your hair behind your ears “I’m going to go and stay with my parents for a bit,” you had mentioned before that you wanted to go up to your families lake house before Peanut was born so that you could get some time in the sun beforehand.
Sidney nodded “thought you wanted me to come with you.” You had offered to bring him along as everyone was desperate to meet the man who your child was going to call her father.
You sniffled as you shook your head feeling a tear roll down your cheek “figure your shit out and when you do you know where to find me.” Your words weren’t nearly as harsh as they could have been when you placed a kiss on his cheek before you walked off leaving Sidney all alone on the street.
For some reason this really felt like he had fucked up this time.
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wildestdreamsblog · 9 months
Text
Latibule VI
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)
Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.
Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: never tell me I don’t love my readers when I’m here writing when I just got my heart broken hehehehe
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Masterlist, Latibule V
You turned around when you heard a dull thump of mug hitting the wooden table, distracting you from looking at the stars. Suga was standing behind you with his own steaming cup of coffee, looking tiredly at you before taking a seat.
“Finally got him to sleep?”
He sighed before taking a sip from his coffee. He brushed his hair away from his face as he looked up at the stars. “Seriously, who needs bedtime stories in order to sleep?” He scoffed, remembering how Jackson insisted that he read him stories because, and he quoted, ‘Ahjussi has a deep, nice voice perfect for princes and monsters’.
See, he didn’t even know why he digressed, but that little child looked up at him expectantly that he found himself doing voices that made the child laughed. It was so out of character for him, the big, bad mafia. If his men saw him like that, they would surely thought he hit his head or something. Even he thought that he hit his head. Otherwise, why would he do all those things?
“Children, Suga,” you chuckled at his exhausted face before returning your gaze at the stars, of how they twinkled back at you, of how tragically beautiful they were. You never tired of looking at them night after night, committing them to memory, admiring them from afar. “Didn’t your parents read to you when you were a child?”
He chuckled tonelessly. His family wasn’t exactly…conventional. Hell, if he was raised with normal childhood where parents loved their kids, would he have turned out fine and not the fucked up man he was? The one who was incapable of love?
You looked at him as he looked up at the stars, his hands resting behind him, supporting his weight. The night was quiet, peaceful even. He looked so stoic, so tranquil that you thought he would never answered. After all, you practically knew nothing about him. For heaven’s sake, you had to name him because he refused to give you his name. Despite him existing in your life for months, you didn’t know any truth about him. He was always quick to dodge your questions, asking you questions of his own instead of answering. You didn’t expect him to tell you any of his truths.
This was also the reason why you convinced yourself not to look too much into what you felt, or how your heart seemed to calm when he was near…or how you felt like you were no longer alone for the first time since that tragedy that changed the trajectory of your life. This was all temporary, you kept telling yourself.
One day, he would leave and you would be alone again.
However much to your surprise, he finally answered. “My mother…used to sing lullabies to me every night,” his deep voice divulged, his eyes still trained to the stars you loved to look up to every night. This was the first time he talked about her, the first time he looked back on the nightmare that was his childhood. “She loved singing those French love songs,” he chuckled humorlessly, remembering how her voice calmed the young Yoongi.
“She’s probably worried about you right now…” you mused, thinking of how he had been gone from his normal life for months now. What parent would have not been worried, you thought.
He smirked before looking at you with emotionless eyes. “Why? She’s dead. And even if she’s alive, I don’t think she’s the kind to be worried.”
You frowned, surely that wasn’t the truth, you thought. “Suga-“
He leaned in, looking intensely at you, taking your space as though it was his. He placed his fingers under your chin, tilting your face to his liking. “She gave me this scar,” he whispered, his tone light like he was merely talking about the weather. “Daddy dearest made her choose. Her face-“ he tucked your stray hair behind your ear, his fingers touching your softly as though he wasn’t telling you his tragic childhood. “-or my eye. Guess which one she chose?”
Your lips trembled at what he said. You struggled to look at his eyes, your eyes shifting. What kind of twisted parents would hurt their child? What kind of demon would scar a helpless child? This close and you could see how deep the scar was and it pained you to think of the young Suga bleeding and crying as he clutched his eye.
“And now, I’m hideous,” he sneered, taking your silence as rejection, as disgust, as loathing. He was about to step back when you reached out and slowly, oh so slowly, traced his scar.
“Who told you that?” You asked softly, looking at his eyes with sincerity that it terrified him because no one had ever looked at him like that. You smiled at him, “You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, Suga.”
He looked at you with wonder, his expression slowly relaxing. How could an angel such as you thought of him as beautiful? If…if you knew what he had done, what he was capable of doing, would you still willingly touch him?
Would you still call him beautiful?
Would you finally see him as the monster that he truly was?
You were about to pull away from him when he laid his hand on yours, unwilling to be separated from this feeling that he couldn’t name for how could he when he was never shown love? When he was never taught of love?
How could he knew he was falling for you when that emotion was foreign to him?
“I-is your father still alive?”
He shook his head, not trusting his voice. He thought he would feel regret when he opened up about his past to you. Strangely, all he felt was peace. He felt lighter.
“Good,” you whispered, nodding your head. They didn’t deserve to still be in Suga’s life after the horrifying deeds they did to a defenseless child.
“Noona?”
You snapped out of the trance that you were in, quickly putting distance that Suga hated upon hearing Jackson. He was rubbing the sleep off of his eyes as he walked to where the two of you were. “I woke up from a nightmare. A monster was chasing me, ahjussi,” he said sadly, cheeks damped from his tears. He looked up at Suga with a pout, lifting his little arms expectantly. Yet Suga looked at him in confusion.
“What? W-what does he want, Angel?” He asked you, shifting his gaze from the young child to you as though he was asking for help.
“I think…he wants you to pick him up.”
He sighed before easily picking him up. The child was quick to wrap his arms around Suga’s broad shoulders, his chubby cheeks leaning on his shoulder. “I wasn’t scared, ahjussi! I knew you can fight the monsters,” he boasted sleepily.
Suga didn’t even notice himself smiling at the sentiment. Of course he would slay all the monsters…despite him being one. Once the two of you got him in bed, Suga was about to turn around and leave when he called for him, whining about wanting him to stay so he could slay his demons.
And in that moment, Suga looked at you for permission. He held your eyes captive, his eyes gently awaiting your decision. You nodded at him, and the three of you laid quietly. Jackson was fast asleep in between the two of you, the darkness of the night making it difficult for you to know whether Suga was sleeping. Yet, when you turned to look at him, he was already looking at you with his dark eyes, his body fully attuned to yours.
You turned to him, your hands under your head as you looked at him. “I’m glad you survived that,” you whispered truthfully, your eyes tracing his scarred one.
He looked as though he was contemplating. You thought he would never answer as he was only looking at you, but then he asked, “Why?”
“Because you’re here now.”
In that moment, he was convinced now more than ever that they never loved him. Because when you loved someone, you would never hurt them, you would never even entertain the thought of hurting them. No. When you love someone, you protect them. You cherished them. You would never, ever, lay your hands on them. Yoongi thought that he would rather die than hurt you.
-
“May I help you?” You asked the tall and broad shouldered man. You noticed him looking around the clinic, his back facing yours. He looked like he was at loss as to what to do.
He turned around slowly, his dark eyes focusing on yours as he took you in. You weren’t ready when you finally saw him. He looked like he could say that he was a movie star and you would completely believe him with no question asked. He could claim that he was a prince and you would say, ‘yep, that sounds right’.
In conclusion, his beauty was out of this world. And he looked like he was aware of it. He had this clean look in him, almost clinical in nature. His hair was neatly combed back, his long-sleeves folded to his elbow.
“I…” he started, his brows furrowed as he considered what and how he was going to say. “I lost my cat.”
“Oh no, that’s terrible!”
He scrunched his nose and thought whether losing Yoongi was really terrible. His life was way quieter without him. Did he really want to look for him, he thought. He looked like he was in deep contemplation. “It…is?”
Your head tilted to the side in confusion. Wasn’t it a terrible thing to have lost your own pet?
At your expression, he straightened and nodded his head solemnly, willing you to believe him. “Yes. It’s terrible. It is.”
“What did you say you lost?”
“Yoongi,” he whispered under his breath.
“What?”
“I meant- a cat. I lost a vicious cat. A dangerous one,” he stated, his voice strong. “It is imperative that I find him.”
You blinked at his statement, and then some more when he wouldn’t stop looking at you. “Do you want my help?”
Suga looked at the clinic’s secretary with a dull expression on his face. For weeks since he started working at that diner as a waiter slash guard when rowdy teenagers visited the diner with no intention to pay, he always picked you up from the clinic. It became your tradition to go home together. He would go to the clinic as soon as he finished his work, and you would be where he wanted you to be- in your office waiting for him.
So where the fuck were you now?
He had his arms crossed, his eyes trained on her despite her trembling form.
“She’s not here,” he repeated slowly, not liking the thought of not knowing where you were. It pissed him off. It unnerved him. It didn’t sit right with him.
“She left early with some guy…”
Min Yoongi had never felt that exceedingly terrifying feeling before. It gnawed at his bone, it punched his heart as his brain thought of million grotesque scenarios concerning you. Did his enemies find you? Did his enemies found out that he was fucking alive? Did they somehow get to you?
Did you now know who he truly was?
His hand curled into a tight fist as he felt darkness clung to his mind. Was this how his paradise end?
You eyed the man sitting on your sofa. You helped him looked all over the town to no avail, yet when you asked him if he had a picture of his pet so that the search would be easier, he claimed that he lost his phone early that day.
He was calmly sipping the coffee you made him, looking around your house with nonchalant observation. It was already dark outside and you kept on looking at the clock. You wondered where Suga was. It was hours past his shift and he still wasn’t home.
“I’m sorry we didn’t find your cat.”
He smiled gently at you before softly placing the cup of coffee back on the table. You noticed that his movement was always refined, that he moved with an air of elegance as though he was born with a golden spoon.
“That’s fine,” he started, his voice deep and his eyes shone with intelligence like he knew something you didn’t. “He’ll come.”
You were about to ask him what he meant by that when the front door slammed opened. Suga’s eyes seemed to appear darker than the usual, his form menacing. This was the first time you saw him resembled a wild predator. He seemed to appear unhinged, his look of bewilderment when he finally found you made you unconsciously stepped back as he neared you with heavy steps.
But you didn’t get far.
You would have fallen had it not been for his arms that wrapped around you tightly as though he would never let you go. You never knew how big he was until he had you plastered to him, his form completely enveloping you. This close and you could hear how hard his heart was beating, how it wanted to break free from the cage that was his ribs. This close and you could feel how his body was trembling with an emotion you didn’t know.
“S-Suga-“
“Never,” he growled, his dark hair cascading on his face making him looked more feral. He gently pushed you away, his hands on your shoulder as he made you looked at him with ferocity. He was taking you in, the alarm in his face hadn’t gone down an inch. But the moment he saw you, he looked as though a weight had been taken off his shoulder.
He had never felt as thankful to whatever deity or Gods that were out there than he did the moment he saw you alive, that you were still here in front of him, that he could still fucking hold you.
“Never, ever go somewhere without telling me first,” he growled at you with a dark look on his face . He was imposing and serious like you had never seen him before. “Never go somewhere where I cannot fucking follow-“
“Suga, please calm do-“
“Do you understand me, Angel?” He cut you off as he tilted your chin up, making you understood how fucking terrified he was, of how he would find any other answer unacceptable but your agreement. And when you finally nodded did he reluctantly let you out of his hands.
And only then did he notice the man sitting on the sofa with a smirk on his face.
“Hyung.”
- National Police Agency, South Korea -
Park Jimin was staring at his laptop unblinkingly. Ever since he found out who the traitor was, he was at loss with what to do. He was raised to value both the organization and family. And right now, he needed to choose between the two.
He couldn’t find the answer as to why he was able to do what he did. He couldn’t understand why he betrayed Yoongi when he protected them like they were his own brothers. Min Yoongi, as dangerous as that man was, took lashes for them. He would tell them to fuck off and then catch a bullet for them. He made the difficult decisions for them. He bled just so the seven of them could live.
Min Yoongi was the most loyal man he ever knew.
And so, how could that traitor do that to him?
“Detective Park.”
Jimin lifted his eyes to the man who called him. He was wearing his uniform, just having been temporarily promoted to Yoongi’s position. He was smiling like the sunshine he was perceived to be, yet behind those smiles lied something dangerous…something sinister.
“A word.”
He smiled at the traitor.
He smiled at Jung Hoseok.
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Latibule VII
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vixstarria · 5 days
Text
Communication
Surprise surprise, they're no good at it.
This is a continuation of my in-game bardlock series, seeing as I left a large gap in it between an intimate and emotional scene and a whole bunch of unhinged fucking. Sorry about that.
Takes place after Intimacy but can be read as a stand-alone!
Read on AO3
Astarion x f!Tav
Early Act 3. It has been nice, but it's time Tav and Astarion actually figured out what it is they're doing and what comes next.
Tav is a half-elf bardlock. I'm calling her Tav in this fic, but if you know you know.
Hurt/comfort, some fluff and a drop of humour (I am me after all) if you squint, love, angst
TW: some very casual violence and murder
Approximately 3.9k words. 
“Well?” A very giddy Astarion had appeared behind Tav. “Let’s go!” 
The party had finally reached the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate and were setting up camp near Rivington, after a brief excursion in the area. 
“Go where?” she asked.
“Anywhere! I haven’t seen these streets in sunlight in two centuries.” 
“Now..?”
The city was flooded with refugees. Some child whose mother was definitely not coming for her had seemingly declared herself adopted by the group. There was a towering pile of corpses just outside one of the nearby gates. A circus was in town.
It was nice to finally be back in civilisation.
“Yes, now! Forget the bloody tent, maybe we’ll find an inn to sleep in for a change.”
Nothing had been arranged, set up or planned yet. They had only the vaguest notion of where they were going.
“Sure, a walk sounds lovely right now,” shrugged Tav.
It very quickly became obvious that finding an inn would be nigh on impossible. The streets were crowded with refugees, frantic citizens and all those who would either try to keep them in order or prey upon them.
“Are we going anywhere in particular, or are we just... going?” Tav asked, trying to make her way through the throng. She had never seen Baldur’s Gate this busy before. 
“There is something I’d like to show you,” answered Astarion. “Some place, to be exact. It’s- hey!”
He realised that he was talking to no one, as they had been separated by a group of dwarves pushing their way through between them. Tav smiled at him over their heads, raising her arms in an open-palmed gesture of defeat and resignation.
“Can’t you keep up?” Astarion sighed, rolling his eyes, and reached for her, taking her hand and linking his fingers through hers.
This… This was new, particularly in public, and Tav bit her lip, fighting not to smile, as he guided her after him. 
Astarion glanced back over his shoulder at her, to see her grinning. 
“Oh shut up,” he huffed, before spilling into a smile too, despite himself, and drawing her close to kiss her.
“Half-elven whore,” a nearby elven woman muttered to her companion in elvish, tsking in distaste at the sight. Either she did not expect to be heard or understood, or simply did not care.
Astarion turned towards the woman, with a glower, but before he could retaliate with his own snide remark, Tav told the elven woman to go fuck herself with a splintered broom, in perfect elvish, and pulled Astarion further down the street before the woman thought of anything else to say.
“Such... delightful use of the True Tongue, dear.” Astarion seemed in equal parts impressed and taken aback. “Don't tell me you’ve been holding out on me this whole time..?”
“Oh, no, I only know a little bit,” laughed Tav. 
“Do indulge me.” 
“No, it’s really hardly anything,” she shook her head. “I can count, exchange pleasantries and profanities, know a few songs I can’t translate, and a few odd phrases.” 
“Such as?” 
“I can scream for help in elvish, for one,” she offered. 
“Why would you need to scream for help in elvish..?” 
“Men are more likely to come running if they think it’s a little elven maiden they’re rescuing,” she explained with a sigh. 
Astarion mulled that over with a frown for a bit. 
“I’ll have to take your word for that... What else? And for hells’ sake, just say something, I enjoyed hearing it.” 
She said the first phrase that came to mind.  
Astarion stopped dead in his tracks, with what Tav knew to be the expression he held when he was doing his best to keep his face straight.  
“So let’s start with what you think you just said.” 
“...Shit. ...Uhh.” Tav gave Astarion a sheepish look. “‘My small children have had nothing to eat for days.’?” 
“Darling,” he said, cupping her cheeks, trying not to laugh. “My love. That’s not quite it... Now, how many people do you think you’ve told you’ve ‘eaten nothing but small children for days’..?” 
“Ah... That explains the reactions,” Tav said thoughtfully. 
“Horror?” Astarion finally snickered.
“Usually laughter... I just figured most elves were assholes.” 
Eventually Astarion brought them onto a rooftop that offered an impressive view of the city and surrounding regions.
“It’s so strange to be here in daylight,” he murmured. “This was one of my spots,” he said, turning to Tav. “I used to come here at the start of my evenings, alone, and just… enjoy the peace and quiet for a while.” Astarion took a pensive look around. “Admittedly, the tiles weren’t as hot at night, and all the bird shit wasn’t as prominent.” 
They found a place to sit down.
“I thought you would try to get your job done as quickly as possible,” said Tav.
“There had to be a certain balance to it.” Astarion shook his head. “Start prowling too early, and the potential targets wouldn’t be ripe for the picking yet. And even if I managed to get someone back to the manor early on in the evening, it would only mean I would have to ‘entertain’ them longer.” He shut his eyes and leaned back against a chimney. “It was better to take some precious solitary repose, when I could.”
“Do you think you might have taken me back to Cazador if you’d met me back then?” Tav asked quietly.
Astarion opened his eyes and frowned at the sudden question. 
“Not if I’d ever seen you perform, no,” he deliberated. “I never went for the bards. They were almost my co-conspirators, though they didn’t know it. I couldn’t waste them.” He paused before continuing. “But otherwise, if I’d just bumped into you at a tavern… Probably, yes. A pretty, reckless stray… You would have been perfect. …Would you have followed?” He asked, glancing at her.
“Probably,” she replied, staring off into the distance.
They sat in silence until Astarion broke it with a question.
“Will you stay with me when all this is over?” 
Just the sheer amount of effort he put into trying to make that question sound casual spoke volumes. 
It caught her off guard. They’d spent many evenings in his tent lazily basking in vague fantasies about an ‘after’, usually concentrating on the idea of being able to stay in bed all day, or the concept of their hair and fingernails being free of dried blood and entrails for a change. They’d never actually discussed any realistic nuance of this ‘after’. Or what it might look like, other than what it wouldn’t look like. 
“Are you certain you want to take Cazador’s place in the ritual..?” she asked, carefully. 
“Why shouldn’t I?” Astarion immediately sounded defensive. 
“You don’t even know what it entails or means, not really...” 
“It means having everything I’ve been missing the past two centuries, what else is there to know?” He scoffed. “...You haven’t answered my question,” he said after a pause. 
She said nothing for a while, looking down at her fingernails. 
“Stay and do what..?” 
“Anything!” he exclaimed. “Anything you want. We could do anything. Do you have any idea what I will be capable of? Of the power I will hold. The influence.”
“Yes, yes, legions of wolves, turning into mist,” she recited. “What else… Commanding ghouls, I think?” She threw her head back, looking at the sky. “I’m not sure why you would need to do any of that, though.”
“Unimaginable power, and you mock it…” Astarion said indignantly. “I suppose you would rather go frolic in the woods with Halsin..? …Oh don’t look so shocked, I’ve seen how he looks at you. Sleeping in the dirt, living off the land. Is that what would make you happy?” 
“He looks at you the same way! And must you jump to extremes?” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Even if I were interested in Halsin, there is ample space between sleeping in the dirt and sleeping in that gothic monstrosity, in which I might find myself happy.” 
They sat in silence for a while. 
“I don’t think you should go through with it,” she said, finally. “Something about it just doesn’t sit right.” 
Astarion looked at her with an unreadable expression and didn’t say anything. She continued. 
“I know enough stories - and before you roll your eyes at me, there is usually a grain of truth to them – and I’ve read between the lines of enough history texts, to know there is no such thing as a jolly vampire lord that just has a grand ol’ time carousing in their castle. It’s always centred on cruelty, misery and violence.” 
“I suppose you know plenty of stories of jolly vampire spawn,” he spat. 
“Some, as a matter of fact. They usually revolve around romance and redemption.” She sighed and continued, as he let out a bitter laugh. “I’ve never heard of any demonic deals that ended in anything that wasn’t disastrous, either. The point is, nothing that involves blood or soul sacrifice has ever made anyone happy.” She looked in the direction of Cazador’s palace. “We should kill Cazador, burn it all to the ground and dance on the ashes. I will be by your side. And yes, I want to stay with you. Of course I do.” 
“For how long?” Astarion asked quietly, after a pause. 
“...What?” 
“How long will you stay by my side? You have another... 100 years, 150 at best? I can’t offer any solutions to that as a spawn.” 
She blinked, realisation dawning in her eyes.
“...Astarion Ancunin, did you just say you want to spend the rest of eternity with me?” 
“Oh don’t you bloody dare turn this into a joke,” he bristled. “Just for once.”
“Not a joke, but…” She paused and gave her head a brisk shake, as if to snap herself out of a daze. “Just so we’re absolutely clear, what are you saying?”
“Isn’t it obvious..?” The grin that had crept habitually onto Astarion’s face felt like a suffocating mask. She only stared back into his eyes, unblinking, waiting for him to continue. “I could turn you. Grant you an eternity.” ‘With me’, he wanted to add, but the look in her eyes made the words die on his tongue.
None of this was going the way Astarion had expected. Not that he had planned any of this… Still, he’d made certain assumptions. He’d anticipated the conversation and day would flow somewhere along the following lines: re-affirm his plans for Cazador. Exchange words of undying love and devotion. Maybe, maybe make love to her again, later, in celebration. Instead everything was slipping like fine sand through his fingers. Words simply wouldn’t come out of his mouth. Everything he thought he might say suddenly felt pathetic.
“Turn me? To become one of your spawn?” Astarion opened his mouth to speak, but she talked over him. “Two centuries as something you say is less than a slave, a puppet, and you would so easily offer the same fate to me..?”
“First of all,” he sputtered, “I don’t know why you immediately assumed there would be others. Secondly,” he continued, slowing down, “there is another way, or so I’ve read. You wouldn’t be a mere spawn, but a-” Astarion winced, cutting himself off. “Never mind,” he said, shaking his head. This was rapidly spinning further and further out of his control. “I thought you trusted me?” he asked instead.
“It’s not about trust,” she said. “If you had the choice between a hundred years of absolute freedom or being enthralled to someone for eternity - doesn’t matter who - me, Gale, your long-lost grandmother, anyone! What would you choose?”
“I would never compel you,” said Astarion, his voice tinged with a hint of pleading.
“That’s not the point,” she said, looking away, running her hand through and tugging at her hair. “Let’s just head back. We still need to set up before it gets dark, and I promised Karlach we would visit that bloody circus…”
Something inside Astarion shattered and spilled, ice-cold, over his heart as she got up and walked away. 
Not even an hour had passed since some of the happiest moments he’s had in centuries.
They walked back in silence. 
Eventually they came upon an outpost of Flaming Fists and steel watchers, who had appeared on the road they had taken into the city. They were apprehending everyone trying to pass through, whether they were leaving or entering. 
“Let’s try a side street,” offered Astarion. 
They found and made their way through a narrow alleyway. It was empty. Suspiciously empty, in fact - no children running through, no one out for a quick smoke, no drunks pissing on the walls.
Sure enough, once they were halfway through, three goons intercepted their way, stepping out of a doorway. Two humans and an enormous half-orc wide enough to block out most of the passage. 
“Alley toll.” One of the thugs flashed a malicious grin, eyeing Tav up and down. “Better pay up, doll.” Three more jeering hoodlums appeared behind them as he spoke, armed with crude but lethal weapons. 
“Attempting to detain a Council battlemage on duty? Bold but stupid,” she said gravely. “Hand over your profits and Lord Gortash won’t learn of your little enterprise. This is your only warning.” 
Trying to bluff and deceive her way through, per usual. Was there even a Council anymore? Did it employ mages? No matter. Whether due to the fact that she and Astarion had decided to wander the streets of the city in civilian clothes, without armour, or simply because the lust for money and violence had gotten the better of the would-be muggers, they paid her attempt no heed. 
The leader laughed.
“Or, how about we have some fun with you, and your Lord Gortash can come and collect your body from the river once we’re done with it?”
Astarion’s blood boiled.
He reached for his daggers, thoughts racing. Why in the hells had they come here barely armed..? They were surrounded, but perhaps if she blasted the three in front of them they might run through..? But they were probably too close for that… Could she misty step behind them and get away? His undead body would most likely survive whatever came, even with the tadpole. 
“Take the ones behind,” Tav snapped, and Astarion followed her lead, as he had grown used to, silently praying to no particular deity that she knew what she was doing. 
He ducked as one of the goons bellowed and swung a sword at him, dodging the blow to come up next to his attacker, burying a dagger between his ribs and another in his guts, for good measure. At least the alley was too narrow for all of the bandits to come in on them at once. Behind him, Tav spat some incantation that he wasn’t familiar with.
The next lout came at him, only to stop short, as Astarion scrounged up his meagre magical abilities to hurl a firebolt at his face, making the man yelp and grind to a halt in shock and pain. Astarion’s dagger followed through his eye socket shortly thereafter. 
The entire altercation with the two thugs took mere seconds. Another controlled shout from Tav followed behind him.
The last of the muggers on Astarion’s side backed away, looking at the scene unfolding behind Astarion with a horrified expression, before breaking into a run and disappearing. 
Astarion turned back to witness Tav standing with her arms crossed, looking unaffected, just as the half-orc who had been behind the group’s leader pulled his sword back out from the leader’s stomach, having impaled him from behind.
Tav barked another command as the leader collapsed, and the half-orc slammed the head of his other cohort, who hadn’t understood what was happening yet, against a wall, with a resounding crunch. 
A domination spell. 
Astarion felt nauseous. If his body had been capable of producing bile, it would have crept up at the back of his throat. For once, the smell of freshly spilled blood all around them was repulsive to him.
 “Kneel,” Tav commanded, calmly. The half-orc’s body immediately dropped to its knees, with a thud that spoke of damaged kneecaps.
“I’m running out of time. Do you need him?” She stepped over the body of the group’s dying ex-leader and walked around the half-orc, to stand behind him. 
Disgust and revulsion continued to claw at Astarion’s insides. 
“…What?”
The half-orc’s eyes were void of any emotion. A small mercy.
“Blood. Do you want his blood, before I spill it?” she said nonchalantly.
“…No,” he swallowed. Not like this…
He watched as she slit his throat, carefully standing behind him to avoid blood spraying over herself. Comprehension returned to the man’s eyes just as he made his last gurgling sounds, before stilling forever. 
“That was despicable,” Astarion hissed, finally breaking his gaze away from the body. “Compulsion? Really?!”
She gave him an incredulous look, momentarily speechless.
“This is what I do!” she exclaimed. “This is how I protect myself. You know this! What the fuck did you expect - that I would set off a fireball in an alley?! Or make one of them have a fit of giggles?!”
“You didn’t need to do anything, I could have handled all of them,” he countered.
“Oh, stand behind you like a meek little lamb?” She scoffed. “While neither of us are even wearing armour, and they’re on both sides? Don’t be ridiculous.” She crouched to wipe her dagger on the dead man’s clothes. “What does it matter, anyway,” she said, offhanded. “Dead is dead - who cares how they got there?” 
“It was just like Cazador all over again,” Astarion said, bitterly. “Watching my siblings torture each other, for his amusement, waiting for it to be my turn to be compelled.”
She stilled as she crouched, not looking up at him. 
“You fucking hypocrite,” she said, finally, rising. 
“What in the hells are you talking about?” he grimaced.
“Comparing me to Cazador, when you’re planning to take his very place.”
“How dare you?” Astarion felt the last of his composure leaving him. “I am nothing like Cazador, and I never will be,” he growled.
“No?” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re already thinking of your own spawn. Maybe you would keep your word and not compel me, but you would be curious. All that power that you’ve been wishing was yours for 200 years...” She gesticulated, tilting her head. “First just one teensy little slave - someone who’s wronged you, maybe, someone who deserves to bear your ire. Then, perhaps someone convenient, in a place of power. Someone like what you would have been, had Cazador not botched your death so bad that it became public. Then another. And another. And what will you do with them once you have them? Take them for midnight picnics and host slumber parties?” 
She spat on the ground. 
“I’m going back to camp.”
She stormed off, fuming, exiting the alleyway and mixing into the crowd. Astarion followed at a distance, discreetly wiping the blood that had landed on his hands on the shirt of a random passerby that stumbled out in front of him. He gritted his teeth, watching her.
It had taken every last bit of his self-control to not snap back at her during her little tirade. 
He wanted to stalk off in the opposite direction, but frankly all his things were at the campsite, and he still needed the group’s help, both with Cazador and the tadpole. And he couldn’t discount something else happening to her on the way back. 
No, none of this was what he thought would end up happening today. Was this the end..?
It didn’t matter, he thought. Let her be stubborn. Let her accuse him of gods know what. He would do what he had set out to do. Hells, even if she changed her mind later - it would be too late. Let her live out her “hundred years of freedom” in regret.
And how fucking dare she?! Insinuating that he was or could ever be anything like Cazador. After all he had given her. His trust. His love. He didn’t have anything else. Not as a spawn, anyway.
But perhaps she would change her mind, after she gave his proposal more thought..? He could talk her into it, couldn’t he? He’s talked so many people into doing exactly what he wanted them to do…
There was no point in anything otherwise. It was all for her. All he wanted for himself was revenge. Freedom. Safety. But all the power in the world was meaningless if he couldn’t share it with her.
Astarion winced at the thought, hating that it even crossed his mind. If only he could claw it out of his brain and smash it against the cobbles beneath his feet. How much simpler life would be.
He would not grovel. He would not apologise. He would not change his mind. And he would rather die, again, than be caught running after her like a dog. 
Astarion cursed, slipped into the shadows and turned invisible, breaking into a sprint. He wouldn’t be able to replicate the trick for a while now, if the need arose, but he couldn’t care less. 
He raced up sets of stairs, speeding through a terrace, dodging the patrons of whatever establishment it was he was going through, and leaped, unseen, onto the next building’s, until he was ahead of her, descending back onto the ground and losing his invisibility around the corner from the main street, stepping out just in front of her. 
He caught a glimpse of her scowling and furiously blinking away tears just before she crashed into his chest with a light gasp, as he wrapped his arms around her. She was stiff and rigid, but at least she didn’t try to push him away. Still, a part of him was screaming that it was already too late.
“I don’t want you to have to commit those atrocities when you’re with me,” Astarion murmured into her hair, holding her close.
“You’d rather commit them yourself?” she retorted, her voice weak.
“I don’t want to,” he said quietly, as she seemed to become more malleable, and sank into his embrace, slowly wrapping her own arms around his back. “But I will if I have to. For you.”
“That makes two of us, I guess,” she managed, sounding choked up. 
Astarion took a deep breath, relieved. Mine… Still mine… He thought to himself, touching his forehead against hers and stroking her cheek. Someone in the street heckled them, yelling something about getting a room.
“I already don’t have much to offer, beyond all my burdens,” he whispered. She looked up at him, eyes glistening. She tried to protest, but he pressed a finger to her lips. “I want to do what I can, for you. For us. What good am I if I can’t even keep you safe?”
He pressed his lips against her forehead as she hugged him tighter. He had no idea whether he had convinced her of anything, or if she simply didn’t have the will to argue anymore, but for now it didn’t matter.
“I will love you no matter what,” she breathed.
Another jeer followed from the crowd, and someone cursed at them to get out of the way.
“A legion of wolves sounds tempting right about now,” she added, as he smiled.
“Do you still want to get Karlach and go to that circus?” he asked.
“Fuck the circus,” she mumbled into his shirt. “But I guess we should.”
They made their way back to the camp, fingers interlocked again. The silence that stretched once more almost felt comfortable this time.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading!
Series master list
Next in series - A night at the inn
AO3
~~~~~
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129 notes · View notes
Note
*TW*
Hello!!! I absolutely love platonic yanderes with teenage reader so can I ask for a fic where the teen!reader is basically a traumatized being. They have experienced hell throughout their life from mental abuse to physical abuse. Like I mean, they have gotten in many dangerous situations which ended up with police involved (kidnapped, assaulted, murder attempt). Ofc the reader never really did anything wrong, they were just an innocent child till everything went downhill. They don't have any family members left leading them to stay at an orphanage. Anddd you could say the orphanage people aren't the nicest. And their mental health has become so fucked up that they had attempted suicide.
You don't have to do this if ur uncomfortable ofc. Sorry about how triggering the request might be
On the roof
Self-Aware! Platonic! BSD Cast x GN! Teen! Traumatized! Reader
Description: You are on the rooftop in the middle of the night.
Trigger warning: Suicide attempt. Abuse. Child abuse. Kidnapping. Assault. Attempted murder.
List of Suicide hotline numbers can be found here and here.
Warning: One swear word. English is my second language.
__________________________________
You silently opened the door, that leads to the roof of an orphanage. With your phone in hand, you take a few steps forward.
The door closed behind you.
You just stand here. You were silent.
You were here. You wanted to end this.
You sighed and looked around.
Should you just... Go to the edge and jump? It's not like someone would care about you.
You didn't bother with the last note.
No one would care about the reason.
You will simply become a name in documents.
You just wanted to be heard.
You mindlessly looked at your phone.
Should you take it with you?
Or left it here, so someone else would use it?
Your gaze stopped at the "BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan" icon. Will the new owner delete it? Or will continue your progress?
You tapped on the icon. You didn't leave a note.
Yet, you "talked" to BSD Characters so often, that it seems right, to let them hear your last words.
Your reasons.
You opened the Main Menu and choose 'Meeting Hall' option.
The picture of ADA Office appeared. And Chibis of all BSD Characters appeared.
This new option was cute. You liked petting chibis.
All chibis 'looked' at you.
And you finally spoke.
"Mom was strange..."
________
Your mom was strange.
She smelled funny. Like water everyone told you not to drink.
Sometimes, she stared at you. Stared for a long time.
And there were rules.
1. Don't cry.
2. Don't annoy mom.
3. You eat last.
4. If you stayed past curfew, you will sleep outside.
5. Don't tell anyone about your home life.
At least, she let you play outside as much as you want. Mom liked, when you were away from home.
*******
You were five, when you got kidnapped.
That night, you wake up to get some water.
Mom saw you.
In her eyes, you broke a rule.
You were sleeping outside.
One moment you were trying to get comfortable under the porch.
Next moment a man in a mask was dragging you in a van.
Three days.
You were in a dark, scary place for three days.
On a third day you heard two men talking.
"What do you mean, that mother didn't realize, that kid were missing?!"
_____
"Still... Mom paid the ransom. Kidnappers left me. It takes three more days for police to find me..."
____
You were standing near a police officer. And your mom finally arrived to the police station to collect you.
You walked to her, your head was low.
She hit you.
You screamed.
You collapsed on the floor, and your mother bent over you. She hissed and pushed you in the side with her feet.
"Are you satisfied, brat? Get up and go pack your belongings, we’re moving to a shed."
"You should treat your kid more kindly..." the officer grumbled. Your mother squealed.
"Kindly?! This brat had ruined my whole life!” Your mom was mad. She screamed like a fury, jumped in place and gave cowering you blow after blow. You didn’t try to dodge. You just trembled, curled up into a ball.
"Hubby ran away as soon as he gets it inside me! But dear relatives didn’t let me throw it away. They didn’t let me give it to an orphanage! They said that I need to raise this child! They stood up for a little bastard! But now, when I need to pay debt, they are nowhere to be found! They say I play cards too much! I'm just unlucky! Things are not going my way! The house is mortgaged! I poured all my savings into the last card game and won! I would pay off all my debts! And because of this thing, I now have to live in a shed! What will I tell my family now?! What will others say about me?!"
Officer heard enough.
The CPS were called.
_______
"... They were trying to find my father... Until then, grandmother and grandfather agreed to took me in..."
_______
You were six.
Your grandfather sat on the opposite side of the table.
Your textbook and notebook were laying on the table before you.
And your grandfather was talking.
"I finished checking your homework. As I expected, you are a little idiot. A stupid, worthless waste of space. You have made few stupid mistakes. You wrote numbers in a wrong order.
Grandfather opened your notebook. A red paste was covering the page.
2 + 1 = 3 1 + 2 = 3
3 + 1 = 4. 1 + 3 = 4
"So..." Grandfather take a ruler.
"Give me your hand. It will be ten hits for every wrong number."
________
"...it took two year to find my father. He had a family. And I... I was a child from affair. They never let me live it down... For years"
_______
You were nine.
The blow, when it came, took all of your air out of your lungs. You would have fallen if not for your two... "siblings" holding you.
"It feels good, giving a good beating to a dirtbag, right?"
The next hit was in your left eye. You managed to close it in time.
But it will be swollen.
You felt hot breath on your face.
"Your hair is too good for a bastard child."
Your sister brought the scissors up to your hair.
Snip, snip, snip. Cutting right alongside the scalp, sending your hair like leaves swirling to the ground.
Then scissors were plunged into your stomach.
"Die, child of a dirty whore."
______
"...Police was called. They were arrested. But I remained with father and his wife..."
_____
You were twelve.
You were going food shopping. Big bags were heavy, you were tried.
You still need to clean up the house and make dinner.
When you were attacked, because someone tied to rob you, you didn't even care.
You only knew, that, you will be beaten again for being late. And for losing food.
You were long past gone. There were no point in carrying about yourself.
~~~~~~
You were thirteen.
Your father, his wife and you were going to the funeral.
Your father's uncle died.
Now he only has his wife and kids. And you.
He noticed your gaze in a reflection.
He yelled at you for staring.
And he crashed.
You spent three hours in a broken car.
You were the only survivor.
_______
"... I was sent to an orphanage. I am too old to have any chance to be adopted. And I wasn't the only one, who had no chance to have a family..."
______
You tasted dirt and blood. An old rug was thrown over your head, to make it harder for you to fight back.
Someone pressed a knee on the back of your neck and held your face against the ground.
A kick in the side made you roll on your back.
Another person began to push down on your neck with an arm.
You began to struggle, thrashing about with your legs and beating them against the floor, but it was no good.
There were other kids around—at least a dozen of them. One of them would do something. One of them was sure to see that things were taking too far. Your vision began to go fuzzy.
Caretakers saved you only because the noise didn't let them watch TV.
________
"I couldn't take it anymore. I... thank you... Thank you for making me happy... For being the only happy thing in my life."
You finished talking and put your phone on the ground. You stand up and walked towards the edge.
You heard a loud noise. You turned around.
BSD Characters were standing behind you. Real.
And you were still standing near the edge. You were silent. Nikolai lift his overcoat and put his hand into the portal.
His head reappeared near you. You jumped away. Now you were even closer to the edge.
"No... I... I don't want to... Don't come closer..." whispered you. You took another step. You were almost here.
"[Y/N], if you go back, I will give you a hug!"
You froze and turned around.
Kenji Miyazawa made a step forward. He opened his arms, offering a hug.
"I promise, I will give you a hug. Come here... You really need a hug."
You trembled. You moved towards Kenji.
Step. After step. After step.
Kenji was standing here. Offering a hug.
You launched yourself forward, wrapping your arms around Kenji. He immediately hugged you back.
You cried. For the first time in years.
In a few minutes, you were in a middle of a large group hug.
________
You are fifteen.
You are living with your family.
You still have a long path to recovery.
And you are not alone.
BSD Cast will stay with you.
And will make sure, that you will never be hurt again.
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