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vanderilnde · 3 months

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slobbering and whimpering at the thought of butcher!simon who also happens to be your socially inept neighbour <3

—

It’s the seedier side of Manchester you move to. To a flat with wet rot between each brick and the peal of police sirens on every other street.

Crammed into the corner of your block is a little gem found between flats and markets: a well-loved butcher shop.

It’s suffocating when you walk in. Dewy and damp and misty and permeating with the angry odour of metal, poorly offset by an overripe air freshener hanging above the entrance.

A man lurks behind the counter. He’s big. Huge. Demands too much space as the coarsely-sewn sheers of his shirt look like they’re about to burst at his biceps. His hair is tamed under a Man Utd cap, but a few odd-angled curls peek out. His arm, swathed in tattoos, flexes as he hacks at a red piece of meat, slicing through the tendons, as you meagrely clear your throat for his attention.

His eyes, sunken in his sallow sockets, hinge upwards to stare at you.

“Um, hope I’m not interrupting you.”

His eyebrows purse because obviously you are. He steps away from the counter, wiping his big, bloodied hands against his apron.

“Could I just-“ you sharply inhale, then belatedly regret it as the smell of raw meat invades your senses. You suppress a cough as to not offend him. He stands with his arms crossed, the papery crows feet of his eyes folding as he stares at you above his mask. “Ah… lamb shanks?”

He grunts. It’s curt, but it doesn’t seem rude. More like socially inept in the ways in which he regards you, and how he prepares your order in sparse, quick movements.

“£6.00.”

You fish in your pocket and bring out a thin handful of coins. He swipes it, doesn’t bother to count it, for some reason, and slides the lamb into a repurposed Tesco bag, handing it over the display.

You reach over, your gaze flitting to his name tag which features only the tail-end of his name, the rest of the ink smudged and washed away from years of hard work.

As you swipe the bag from his hold, his finger brushes yours. A gossamer-thin layer of blood stains your forefinger and marinates your skin in the middle of the exchange.

You pivot, throwing a soft thanks over your shoulder, and rub your thumb into his vestigial warmth on your finger.

—

It’s after dark when you slip outside your flat, bin bag slapping against your thigh. You’re in a large sweatshirt and some shorts, chucking the trash down the disposal, when the tinny, grating sound of metal-against-metal peals from the elevator.

You throw a cursory glance over your shoulder, but freeze as you spot a familiar figure ducking under the roof of the lift and stepping onto your floor. The butcher.

He is clad in a filmy jacket, arms laden with shopping bags as he helps an elderly lady into her flat.

She says “Thank you, Simon,” and Simon nods, closing the door on his way out.

He fishes through his pockets for his keys and shoulders past you. You think he doesn’t recognise you, or worse, pointedly ignores you.

And for some reason, the latter thought causes a pang of sadness to seize you.

However, halfway down the corridor, in front of the flat next to your own, Simon turns around.

“You’re the new neighbour? Room 146?”

His eyes flicker from your legs to your face. A film of recognition glosses his eyes. Your mouth suddenly feels dry and you dumbly nod, preening under his intimidating eyes.

“Walls are thin,” he says, jamming his keys into the lock, “try keeping quiet, love. Some of us’ve got work in the mornings, yeah?”

Before you can reply, the conversation is already over with the slam of Simon’s door swinging shut.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #simon riley #simon ghost x you #ghost mw2 #butcher!simon #simon writing #writing

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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months

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Stranger danger (slasher!Konig x fem!Reader)

You never wanted to go to this stupid party. Turns out, you were right all along - it doesn't save you from this weird guy in a Ghostface mask though. Warnings and tags: Non-con, size difference, knives, slasher-y, slight degradation, obsessive Konig, yandere Konig, praise kink Word count: 3069 AO3

You told your friends you didn’t want to go to this stupid party. No one cared. You asked them for at least a funny group costume, and everyone agreed – only to bail at the fucking party, so you were the only one who went as a freaking ant from that one extremely sad meme. With a little handkerchief on a stick and everything. No one got it.

You told your friends that you wouldn’t want to get drunk unless they would be with you because, honestly, college parties are the worst, and you don’t want anyone to get roofied. They left you by the snack table, making you eat smarties and occasional chips like salt counts don’t exist.

You were munching on a particularly tough pretzel – the packaging was saying something in German, as exotic as this college could fucking get without being too scared of spices – when The Guy dropped himself on the couch next to you.

Yes, The Guy – because you were in no right to call him just a guy, a dude, a lil’ bro, or anything like that. He was way over 6 feet, probably creeping on being the new form of a fancy light post, and built like a bear that was eating nothing but protein and particularly tasty American tourists. Dressed in all black, very original, he must love spending time in various shops and choosing between 50 shadows of the same dark attire.��

At this point, you were not surprised that he was wearing a Ghostface mask. At this point, you lost all of your capabilities to be surprised – only slightly intrigued, perhaps, and a little bit aroused when he manspreaded his legs and pushed his knee right against your leg, not stopping until he crammed you to the corner of a sofa. How the one man could take so much space, you had no idea. What he was eating to grow up this big – also.

He looked like at least three frat boys from a sports team crammed together in one body. Tight muscles that could be seen even through the bagginess of his clothes – you aren’t sure if you could survive looking at his pecks without wanting to give up all of your life earnings for a gym membership.

— Hey.

A master of flirting, you just needed someone to talk to.

The Guy didn’t respond.

You frowned – a typical college boy would already try to flirt with you, probably getting you drunk to get an easy lay for the next 10 seconds of pure physical exercise. If he wasn’t interested in a conversation, he probably shouldn’t have sat in your corner – unless he wanted to steal snacks, of course. Something in his figure told you that he would be a freaking hurricane in the snack aisle.

He smells like metal – weird, you think. Not like you wanted to smell him, of course not. You were just crammed in a really tight place against his shoulders, your nose forced to press into his shirt and inhale the deep scent of some generic perfume, a surprising hint at laundry detergent and cleaning supplies – and, of course, said metal.

You expected sweat and cheap booze – but this means it smells like a butcher and a cleaning lady at the same time.

To closer observation, he looked…nervous, almost. Hands fidgeting with a fake knife that he probably snatched from some Halloween supply shop – it’s surprisingly heavy looking, without that cheap shine that a lot of Ghostface costume knives have, and you feel almost endeared by the way he fidgets and spins the knife in his hands. Still, somehow, he looked anxious.

— Are you alright?

He continues to sit here silently. You fight the savior instinct inside of you, reminding yourself that you do not need to nurse and mother a grown-up college boy who is probably too high to talk right now or simply dozed off in his mask with no one to notice this – but still, something in his hunched posture made you feel…soft. Tender. This, or you’re too drunk to not be a doting mommy, since all of your friends ditched you and your sad ant cosplay to be slutty fish sticks.

— Ja, I’m fine.

German accent. This is a surprise for a college boy at this party. Guys who are usually visiting those places can barely speak English, so knowing German with that perfect weird accent of his makes you feel…things. Never too much for accents, you still sat a bit closer, your face pressed against his shoulder. Cheek smashed on his skin – he doesn’t say anything about extreme physical contact. You’re surprised at your own confidence.

— From which program are you?

— What?

— Like…which school. What do you study?

He paused. Flicks the knife in his hands – from this angle, it looks way too sharp for a simple plastic knife. Guy must be a crazy cosplayer who spends hours on trying to make foam and metallic paint look this realistic – you admire this level of nerdiness a little bit. With this skill, he could be more than a generic Ghostface.

He shrugs, leaving you without an answer. Alright, not much of a talker. Probably from computing, STEM boys always act like contact with females would make them pregnant.

— Are you enjoying the party?

— Ja.

— You came alone?

— Ja.

— What do you…alright, just tell me if I’m annoying. I’ll stop bothering you.

He chuckles – your cheeks are immediately heated when he presses his hand closer to your thigh. The actions is suggestive, and you don’t quite…don’t quite mind it. You always had a thing for masks, and his body resembles the one of a greek statue – you wouldn’t want to pass on this opportunity. Definitely not for sex, not the type to hook up with a random boy on Halloween, but maybe a sloppy makeout and some number exchange would take place.

König had different plans.

Honestly, you made it too fucking easy for him. Good girl, polite girl, nice girl who actually fucking asked him if he was alright because his hands were shaking from the adrenaline he got from killing some weird asshole trying to get a drunk girl in his bed. He was shaking because he knew he’d get away with it – there were so many drugs on the venue, police wouldn’t even want to open this rathole and try to search for a killer in that random ass city he got on a break after the latest contract.

You made it too easy – your weird costume, your sad face, and your attempts at caring for him actually made his blood boil from excitement, and his nerves(and his dick, throbbing in that baggy black pants) stir. You tucked in the corner, all by yourself, surrounded by loud noises and intoxicated people who couldn’t give less shit about your safety. He can slit your throat, and everyone would think it’s a costume.

He can…and he can also take a little treat for having such a good last mission. Might even take you with him if you’d promise to be a good girl and don’t fight him in the trunk of his car.

You can’t even scream when he pushes his hands on your throat, squeezing. You wanted to, he knew by the look in your eyes that there was a fire inside of you – so he extinguished it as fast as he possibly could, laughing at your pathetic attempts at fighting him off. Just like your friends, you are weirdly easy for him to handle. Just a bunch of drunk college mates, nothing compared to his experience. He’d say that he stood too low, so crazy on his leave, that he decided to search for the easiest prey imaginable, but sometimes you need to choose yourself and find some easy hobbies that you can partake in without taking too much from your psychological sources.

Sometimes, you just need to kill a bunch of drugged students and take home one of them – for mental health reasons. Konis is sure that KorTac would allow him to take you to the base if he’d prove that you are his psychological support pet. Maybe he could even share you with some of his officers as a treat. You’d be so sweet for Krueger, he can tell just from that terrified look on your face when he pushes his hands further, blocking your windpipe.

König is strong – stronger than anyone you know, probably. He knows how to use this strength for the better and for worse, and he isn’t afraid of pushing a bit too far, not enough to break you, but just freaking perfect to make you dazed and turn your brain into mush. So sweet for him, such tasty little noises and scratches of your nails on his gloved hands. He must leave some marks on you later since you’re so sweet to him now.

— Not so talkative now, Schatzi?

You squirm, trying to punch him right in his dick, and he only moans when your knees are jerking in a poor attempt at kicking his balls. If anything, it feels like a really nice massage. So fucking obedient for him, he can’t even imagine how cute you’ll look chained to his bed, forced to play his little girlfriend while he is searching for your friends to finish them off.

Taking off your clothes is ridiculously easy. Even while you decided not to wear a slutty costume for Halloween, the cheap fabric isn’t a good barrier between him and his desire to freaking crush you – he exposes your breasts, covering them with one of his hands right about now, keeping his other hand firmly seated on your throat. You whimper and cry as he plays with your soft buds, making them harden, undoubtedly creating a pool in your shorts. God, you’re beautiful like this.

He actually grieves wearing a mask that can’t be moved this easily – he’d love to munch on your breasts, to try your nipples with his tongue, and roll his teeth over your soft mounds. He can’t, not right now, at least – you’re not nearly broken enough not to tell the police about his face, and he doesn’t want you to close your eyes. Need to make sure you’ll see every inch of his dick.

His rough gloves are creating a weird but pleasurable pressure on your buds – you whine and sob as he pushes his hands to stimulate you more, not caring that you don’t want it. Tugging and teasing with his fingertips, you actually feel like you’re going crazy just from the way he is playing with your breasts. Pushing from side to side, touching soft flesh, not even allowing you to moan as every time you try to open your mouth, he grips your throat tighter.

When he is finally done playing with your boobs, you can almost feel bruises forming from his rough touches. You whine when he goes to rip your shorts – his touches feel like lava spreading between your legs, no matter how much you wanted him to stop, your tongue never came to actually beg him for it.

To his delight, you are soaking.

Your pretty pussy on full display for him – twitching and squeezing for nothing, poor thing, he might as well just push the finger already, stretching you out just enough to let you feel the burn without breaking you. König would love to just push his dick inside without all of these dancing around nothing, but he is aware of his size – and very, very aware of yours. Little things might not be as small as he likes to think you are, but you’re freaking tiny compared to him. Weak and fragile, you have no fucking excuse to just parade yourself like men around you aren’t a bunch of wolves that would love to rip you apart and fuck what remains.

You can barely breathe while he pushes his fingers inside, just one digit is enough to make you squirm under him. You’re wet, pussy damp from all of the juices – lack of oxygen makes you dumber, pliable, make you his best little thing in the world. A girl like you has no business going to parties and whoring yourself to a bunch of early alcoholics – you should stay at home, his home, cooking him dinner and warming his dick. Cleaning his knife after he’d gut some dumb fuck, making sure to get your tongue into all the sharp edges.

Scheisse, just the thought makes him harder than ever. Perhaps he needs to stop playing the nice guy and finally give you the pounding you deserve.

Tired of just holding his hand on your throat, he forces the blade of his knife to take its place. Not nearly enough to cut your skin, but a constant reminder – if you’re a bad girl and would try to escape, he might slit your fucking throat as easily as butter. If you’re a good girl, unlike your friends, he might just take you with him. What a beautiful option.

One finger turns to two very quickly – and, since he doesn’t stop you from moaning and talking, you finally gain your voice back. Poor girl, too dumb to understand that all of your little threats and cries and everything is just a fucking delight to his ears. Might as well record it for his alarm clock.

— Get…get off me!

Such a strong words for such a weak girl. He’d spank you right away, but his fingers are too busy playing with your folds, smearing your juices all over your clit and trembling pussy. You’re dripping like a slut, and it busts his ego – a fancy college girl like you, so wet and needy for a nasty criminal. He knows how to treat you right and has all the resources for it – but somehow, it feels like you’d enjoy being treated like his doll.

He can be sweet after he has fucked you raw.

— Please, you can’t…I won’t tell anyone if you just stop, I promise!

— Shatzi, why do you think I’d let you go after this?

— I…I will scream.

— Ja, you can scream. Do this for me, please.

He laughs as he plunges in, giving you sweet seconds to become accustomed to the feeling of his dick impaling you. Bulging in the outline of your soft tummy, another boost to his ego – just to think, he was so anxious about crashing this party, knowing it would be filled with prissy students who all get to live the life he dreamed of, but you made it all worth it. You’re sweet and fiery, and you grip him like a glove. No matter how wet you were and how much pre-cum he had leaked, you’re still tight for him. Too tight.

You scream when he plunges it, and you continue to scream when he pushes deeper, further, when he moves back a little bit, only to push forward again. His hand finds your clit, never stopping until you’re squirming and crying full-on under him. Such a shame he can’t kiss you, not with this stupid mask – he can only play with your slit and push a knife against your throat over and over again, never allowing the adrenaline in your system to run dry.

Over and over, pushing you further and further until he plunged inside fully – you’re so puffy around him, your pussy lips swollen and spread for him, your clit is throbbing from the pleasure he gives you. Getting you off like that is easy for him – but he has to make sure he isn’t taking it too far, not with how warm and tight you are. He hates being in a position of weakness, but you’re just so perfect, he can’t help but push further and further until you are a sobbing mess and he is on the edge of orgasm.

He forces himself to be slower, his pushes are more and more deliberate – he doesn’t want to cum so fast, even though the mix of your sobs and his adrenaline high from the killing almost makes it impossible. He doesn’t want to stop like this, so fucking easy, but you’re so welcoming and cute and…

— Please, please, don’t…don’t come inside, I’m not on the pill, I’m…

God, you’re so sweet for him. Did the devil finally give him his gift for Halloween?

He laughs as you sob softly, pushes you more and more, and your poor pussy is getting stretched far beyond its limits. He steals this orgasm from your decency, robs you of any accountability – you just lay here, under him, receiving his dick like a good girl you are. Couldn’t have it any other way, just wanted to have you pinned under his body forever.

Your orgasm is crushing, painful in a way – you're all too sensitive for a dick this large to impale you, you sob, and you cry, begging for him to stop before he’d cum inside. Your biggest nightmare is alive when he pushes the knife away from your throat, squeezing it again just so he can cum in the tightness of your hole.

He stays like this, connected to your deepest parts, for a good few minutes, dumb out after the orgasm. You try to squirm from under him, but he only laughs, slowly pushing away from your body. Just one load is enough to make your pussy all messy and even more wet. You’re so dirty for him, it’s actually impossible not to love you even more when you’re like this, dumb and sensitive and so, so fucking cute.

His cum drips from your overflown pussy, pearly white liquid stuffs you ever so perfectly, König laughs, putting his clothes back together and getting one last look at your ruined hole, clenching around nothing. You can’t even talk at this point, poor thing – just how can he leave you here to be found by your perverted friends who would only take advantage of you?

It’s only natural that he sneaks your limp body through the window, holding you like a beloved possession while he is getting in his car.

It’s only natural that you fall asleep in his arms, your pussy stuffed so full, he just knows that he’ll add to the mess once he’d get rid of the body of a dumb college guy he killed moments ago.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #cod x you #yandere cod #call of duty #slashers #slasher

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iicarused · 2 months

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prologue.

hazbin hotel various x reader // interactive fanfiction

synopsis: the beginning of an end. this is to explain who you are and the only two relationships you have, which is lucifer and adam. two acquaintances that you never called a friend nor foe, but they are the only two that has known of your existence — so why is there someone else waiting for you at the docking point in hell?

beware: mentions of the dead

a/n: not much lucifer interaction:(( also reader has never seen adam with his mask on!!

you seen it all. the creation of the world, the creation of the first humans, the fallen, the aftermath. you recall the day when adam was first created like a faint memory, because that is when your purpose in life began. it was a sad tale, really: the first man created bestowed a lovely wife, only to be taken from another man who fell from the heavens above. you watched his second wife suffer the same fate as the first, then adam was suddenly sitting at your canoe.

“what the fuck are you supposed to be?” he questioned. adam was the only man with an exception to cross the waters without a token.

“i suppose you could know me as a lot of things,” you answered vaguely, “life, death, the in between, but i am no more than a ferryman helping you cross to heaven.”

“you talk like you have a riddle to say.” he snorted back a laugh. “what’s your name?”

you pondered his question, and even tried to recall what the gods above tried to call you. “i never had one.” it was pathetic to note because you never really thought this question would come up; there was no use for it before. “never needed one.”

“well sweet stuff, i think a lot of people are going to start asking.” adam raised his arms over his head before leaning against the stern. “you can’t just call yourself boat lady all the time.”

“perhaps i’ll get back to you on that, but for now you may question it.” you pushed your paddle against the dock, signalling to adam that the travel came to an end.

“come visit me often, sweet stuff.” he bid a farewell with an extra token tossed your way. “maybe you won’t need to hide that face of yours by then.”

you didn’t say anything in return, but instead gave him a wave before pushing yourself back to the deep waters. since then, you would often bring souls or the rare person who sat on your canoe to the docking of heaven — since then, adam has waited for you when he was aware of your arrival.

“your hair is growing past your shoulders.” you once whispered to him.

“what? do you like?” he cooed while brushing his hand against yours when retrieving the souls.

you answered with a shrug of your shoulders.

another time was when you had people on your canoe and no souls to bring. “your attire is different.” you commented.

“just got promoted, sweet stuff. any update on your name?” he guided the people off your canoe but never took his gaze off of you.

you shook your head.

finally, there came a day where you tapped your foot anxiously against the wood of your canoe. hands delicately handing the souls of the dead to adam, and it was quick for him to notice.

“are you good?” he asked.

after transferring the souls, you took his hands and brought yourself up to the dock. this was the first time you ever stepped foot on something close to land, for your balance knew nothing more than the movement of the water. his touch was warm and welcoming, his expression falling into one of surprise. your cold fingers ran up to his wrists, your thumbs pressing against his plush skin.

“y/n is my name.” you kept his hands at bay, like you knew he was coming for your veil to show your face. you felt that twitch, but he remained calm.

“you sound like a y/n.”

this was the first night you looked over your shoulder — adam stood at the dock and fluttered his wings in a way to say farewell — quite the odd fella. no matter how brash he seemed, he always made sure to wish you well on your travels.

lucifer was no different, as you could see more similarities than differences. you recall meeting his wife once or twice, but never more than small encounters of a kind greeting. the king of hell wasn’t always there, yet he tried and you could see that each time. a sheepish smile and a wave of his hand to dismiss the last time he hadn’t seen you. he was always kinder than adam,and more hospitable than you want to admit.

“golly! that’s quite a large batch than last time, don’t you think?” lucifer gawked, taking the three jars that illuminated with flickering lights: souls always resembled fireflies to him, not that you would know what they were. “are you sure these are earth's arrivals?”

you gave a curt nod, pulling at your veil so it wouldn’t fall. “some didn’t meet heaven's judgement,” you whispered. “rules are a little skewed right now, but they hope to figure it out soon.”

you watched lucifer expression fall sour before his gaze fell on the jars. his lips tugged into a solemn smile before he sighed. “yeah, heaven has always been a little unorganised — besides the point, are you hungry? lilith just cooked a nice batch of-“

“it’s best for me to leave.” you brought your paddle to your chest, your fingers curling around the smooth wood that helped you with your sails. you always preferred to stand while sailing the rivers. “you have a wonderful week.” you bowed your head before bringing the tip of your paddle to the edge of the dock, pushing yourself back to the waters.

“maybe next time.” lucifer never said bye, farewell, see you later, none of it. never believed in it and will continue to offer a place in his castle for you.

there came a year where lucifer hadn’t shown up at all, and it was very unlikely that he would get someone else to do his job for him. instead, you would finally rubber ducks on the dock — different varieties of them — at first, you didn’t know what to think of them, nor did you know what they were. curious, you took each one and left the souls, or person, to wait at the dock while you left.

you never took these creations to adam, as you were more embarrassed by the fact you did not know what they were. so you left it to conversations with the dead to explain it to you.

“they’re toys!”

“they’re meant for the water!”

“you can squish them and they’ll make a sound!”

each one explained in various ways, and it always intrigued you. while you forbade yourself from touching the porcelain waters of souls, you did drop those ducks on to the water and watch them float.

while you sailed down the rivers of entering hell, you found the air to be cold. in all your years of coming to this side of all 6 realms, hell was never meant to be cold. you found yourself listening more intently, barely stroking your paddle through the calm waters, lifting your veil over your eyes to catch a figure waiting for you at the docks.

#ᥫ᭡.#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer magne x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer x you #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x you #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel

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dudethatsmyundeaduncle · 2 months

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DP X DC AU Danny & The Little Dead Girl

(title pending lol, Danny and Curare adventures pt 2!) Pt 1 here My AU art

__________________________________________

Monday comes, as it is won't to do, and Danny has to go to school which means the baby halfa has to come to school too.

" ok, so, one rule for today, big rule, you gotta be quiet in class. Uh-"

Danny pulls his phone out of his pocket as their bus hits a pot hole. Sitting right at the front means they catch the momentum first and he has to hold Curaré against his side lest she go flying into the aisle.

A couple voices grumble behind them at the jostling as Danny gets his text to speech open.

" Necessitas ser quieto en clase. ¿Entiendes?" The Google robot lady voice translates for him.

Curaré blinks at him from behind her little paper face mask and looks from the phone to him curiously.

This is the game they've been playing since last night, Danny says something in English robo lady repeats it in Spanish.

Danny doesn't know if Curaré understands how the phone speaks or even that it does but she's giving him her favorite little blank expression so he assumes she gets it. At least, she hasn't really disagreed or disobeyed anything he's asked of her yet so...not gonna look that gift horse in the mouth Danny boy!

School goes well, mostly.

They get through the metal detectors and bag checks at the front entrance just fine. The security guards barely glance at Curaré once they confirm she isn't hiding a Glock or something under her shirt. Which it's kinda sad to know gun control is a cross-dimensional American problem but it's on brand if nothing else Danny thinks.

They get to first period without stopping at Danny's locker and settle down in two desks by the back door. This is Danny's usual spot, well usual as of a month ago, it's mostly empty back here now but Danny used to have a seat partner.

(A seat partner who had a kind of shady tweaker vibe that Danny would have been worried about but that kid went home early one day and never came back so....it's Curaré's seat now.)

The little dead girl looks even littler sat in the desk-chair combo, she can barely see over the top. Danny stacks three dictionaries under her for a boost then he gets her set up with some pencils and paper and the single highlighter he found on the floor his first day here.

Curaré seems vaguely interested in his offerings ,after Danny shows her how to use them to mark the page, and starts creating cautious marks of her own.

She keeps glancing back up at Danny as if to confirm that this is still fine? And he nods his head every time trying to be encouraging as it becomes obvious that nobody taught this kid to write inside Fosters Home for Real life Assassins. Which Danny thinks is poor planning on there part because really? If your Assassin can't write how the fuck were they supposed to leave ominous threatening warnings? Or fake suicide notes? Or any number of written props to flesh out a cover story.

Whatever, obviously the assassins raising Curaré sucked ass all around so he can't say he's surprised but he is majorly disappointed.

As the bell rings for first period a whole slew of teens rush in ahead of the teacher Mr. Berk. Simple guy, grey beard, coke bottle glasses, smells like Vics vapor rub, the works.

He's like the most chilled out version of Mr. Lancer ever so he's alright in Danny's books. Plus he only has one "rule", as long as your butt is in your seat by the time he calls your name for attendance he won't mark you late. In Gotham, where everyone and their brother has enough late marks from shitty public transportion to get detention, it's a pretty sweet rule.

So Mr. Berk takes attendance like usual and only pauses on Danny and Curaré in the back for a brief moment.

Curaré stops drawing and stares down Mr. Berk like he's the T rex from Jurassic park. Frozen in place and without breaking eye contact. He stares back at her completely unphased.

" A small visitor then?" He says.

Danny nods. " My sister"

" Mhm" Mr. Berk says already moving on to the next student on his roster.

Danny breathes out huge sigh of relief, that was so much easier then he expected.

They more or less repeat this exchange the whole day. Mondays suck ass because it's one of the only days Danny actually has all 6 periods, but they make it through 1st, 2nd, and nutrition unscathed.

By lunch time Danny thinks they might actually be home free, if no one is gonna bring up the whole freaking child tagging along with him then he can probably just bring her with him everyday.

Maybe he can find her some work books and she can learn the alphabet? And addition? That's like on track for 4 year olds right? Danny can't remember being 4 but that feels right to him. He will educate the child in his care like the responsible almost adult he is. She will go to college!

At lunch Danny sits them at the back of the school right next to the teachers lounge because it's mostly deserted.

In Danny's exprience the best place to hide is in plain sight. He's been sitting here everyday since he enrolled himself and the teachers have never noticed him. Their way too busy trying to get any kind of break from teaching high schoolers to be concerned.Which Danny is greatful for because he has broken the rule about using his cell phone at lunch 50 times at this point.

Listen he has to do universe research when he has access to wifi! Which he only does at school. The administration should be glad he's using his lunch period to educate himself really.

So they eat by the lounge. Danny has Curaré face away from the door so she can take off her face mask and eat unencumbered.The cut on her face is still gnarly, it looks an almost enflamed purple as it tries it's best to heal.

Danny had given Curaré a little immuno-boost with his own ecto the night before to try to speed up her healing factor. But like any Halfa, basically just Danny's personal experience, you have to nourish the ghost half and the human half in equal parts to heal all the way.

It's not until home room, period 6/7, that the metaphorical straw breaks the metaphorical camels back. or the real straw to the metaphorical camel? Did camels even carry straw? where would it go? Between there humps? Not important Fenton!

Home room was a grade A disaster.

Mr. Perez, Danny's kind of ancient home room teacher, who was for almost all intents and purposes blind, had a freaking nose for trouble. It's like he could sniff out vapes and cell phones as soon as they hit the stale class air. Danny thought this would be the easiest class by far, Mr. Perez wouldn't even see Curaré let alone smell her.

And at first it seems like he doesnt, Mr. Perez takes attendance and skips right over Danny and Curaré with no fanfare.

Danny thinks that's the end of it and starts to breathe easy until 15 minutes before the final bell when Mr. Perez' TA asks him to step into the hallway with her for a second.

Danny generally liked Mr. Perez's TA, her name was Sabrina Kahn and she was the kind of girl Jazz would have hung out with.Straight laced, wore argyle cardigans, read books, the smart sort. She looked Jazz's age too, maybe 21ish and she always rolled her eyes when people gave dumb answers in class.

She looks a little embarrassed to be speaking to Danny which immediately sets him on edge.

" It's okay that you brought your little sister today but, I'm sorry, you won't be able to do that again. A bunch of your teachers made complaints with the front office and Mr. Perez got a call about it ..."

Sabrina had always been nice to him and now she was about to ruin his whole week.

" But Ms. Kahn-" Danny started.

She gave him a sympathetic look " Lemme guess, your parents can't take her to work so this was the next best option?"

Danny closed his mouth and nodded, that was actually a much better lie then he was gonna tell, thank you Ms. Kahn. ( But also Boooooo curse you Ms. Kahn!)

" Here, I know it can be hard to find childcare for metas, especially ones as ah-vibrant as your sister. My brother had the same trouble with my nephew."

Sabrina hands Danny a flyer, it's still warm from the printer, it looks like it's just a screenshot of an email.

"Thanks?"

The TA rolls her eyes, wow a lot like Jazz then.

" It's the address to that daycare and a referral. They only take kids by word of mouth, they're kind of... off the books. But their good people! I hope they can help you Danny."

The paper is on off yellow, as Ms.Kahn heads back into homeroom Danny feels all his hope go with her. Shit, what was he gonna do now? He looks through the little glass window in the door to the back where Curaré sits, she's already watching him. He tries to smile at her, be reassuring, he's not sure it works.

......

When the bell finally rings Danny picks Curaré up and puts her on his hip to avoid her being crushed by the rush of high schoolers who stampede out the door in front of them.

The flyer from Ms. Kahn feels like it's burning a hole through his pocket as they ride the bus towards the Narrows.

Danny cased the house from the flyer with maps street view as well as he could. It showed a skinny sublet house across from a small strip mall and laundrymat.

Inconspicuous sure, maybe even innocent looking but well...you could never tell in Gotham, all the buildings looked sort of evil by default. It was probably because of the gargoyles and the general low level stink fog that seemed to always be out.

The big city™ really made Danny miss the suburbs of Amity Park more then just the regular gut wrenching home sickness. Oh what'd he'd give to take a deep breath of air and not inhale the smell of piss when he walked down the street.

They get off the bus at the corner a block from the daycare.

Danny holds Curaré's hand which makes for slow going but seems like the right thing to do. She's never wandered off but Danny didn't want to give her the opportunity to either.

As he helped her climb the three short stairs up to the house Danny was suddenly hit with a wave of panic.

What the fuck am I doing? Am I really gonna take care of this freaking Halfa ghost baby for the next 18 years? Im not even an adult! I work weekends at BatBurger for minimum wage WTF?

Danny's hands began to sweat and his stomach cramped. Oh fuck, here was the existential crisis he'd been waiting for since he first decided to take Curaré from the leagues super secret baby basement.

Oh shit he couldn't breathe, what was he gonna do! OH fuck think!

What would jazz do? Call child services and offer psychological support. Not Uber helpful in this case Danny didn't know the first thing about psychology and Gotham CPS was actual prison.

What would Sam do? Assassin babies are hella counter culture but maybe find a cool rich eccentric family to adopt them? Nope, not gonna work Danny only knew one eccentric rich girl and she was a whole dimension away. FUCK THINK FENTON!

What would Tucker do? In this situation ask Google, homeschooling is big these days so maybe if you leave her in the apartment while your gone with an iPad-

" Hey you alright there dude, can I help you?"

Danny choked on the end of his anxiety panic badbadbad spiral and looked up.

The front door to the house was open and just inside the threshold stood a younger teen, maybe 16? With the kind of fade haircut Tucker always whined he couldn't pull off and a bright yellow hoodie.

Danny held his breathe for a moment making sure he felt it burn up his lungs and throat before letting out a big sigh.

" Yeah, yeah sorry kinda zoned out there I'm just uh kinda nervous I was told to come here for Daycare help for my little sister?"

Curaré looked at the stranger in the doorway with the same wide eyed blankness she stared at everything with. Funnily enough she was still holding Danny's hand, had held on through Danny's entire mental meltdown too despite the ecto sweat. Danny felt oddly touched by the gesture, even if it was more likely that the little girl wasn't bothered by his crisis then her being sympathetic.

The teen in the Yellow Hoodie raised an eyebrow at Danny as he fumbled the paper from Ms. Kahn out of his pocket to hand over.

Yellow Hoodie took it and looked between it, him, and Curaré.

" You're not a cop right? You have to tell us if you're a cop"

Danny made a face, " no, I'm not a cop! I would never be a cop, cops suck."

" Right." Yellow Hoodie said still suspicious " So you wouldn't mind if I called your referral up?"

" Be my guest dude."

The teen pulled out his phone and made sure to keep steady eye contact with Danny. Who could do nothing except not look away during this, the world's most impromptu staring contest, until Yellow Hoodie put his phone away.

" Just wanted to see if you were bluffing. Sabrina called earlier said she'd sent someone our way but you can never be too careful. Come on in. "

Danny felt the wind go out of his sails for the second time that day, what was with people and making him anticipate the worst.

.....

The inside of the house was old, homey, but old. It had very obviously been well lived in by a few generations of children, easy to see from the scuffed floors, chipped crown molding, and the sheer number of framed photos that hung on the walls.

There were signs of new life about too, some toys scattered on the floor, walls that were covered in butcher paper and crayon as high as little hands could reach, and oddly enough some scorch marks. Although, Danny's supposed that an unlicensed daycare for meta kids worth it's salt ought to have a least a few burn marks. For posterity if nothing else.

" I'm Duke, I volunteer here when I can but the place is run by the Mariscos, Mrs. Marisco specifically. She's been in the game for a long time" Duke nee yellow hoodie said as he stopped them in front of a closed door.

The hand made sign on the door said Office in nice scribbly lettering and it was hung on with a peg and twine. Real kitschy.

Danny could just make out the sounds of kids playing in another part of the house and was a little impressed that Duke had managed to keep Danny from seeing even one tiny tot during the impromptu house tour.

" I gotta go help Izzy with the kids, this is Mrs.Mariscos' office just knock before you go in, she might be on the phone."

Duke nodded to Danny, smiled down at Curaré and disappeared down the hallway.

Leaving Danny and Curaré alone in front of a closed door once again.

Danny looked down at Curaré and she looked up at him, she was characteristically silent.

" This feels like a job interview, did you bring your resume? "

Curaré blinked.

" Yeah, me neither. But I think if we both give her puppy eyes maybe our combined under aged-ness will activate her maternal instincts and she'll be forced to accept us?"

The nerves were back, they had never really left but now they had settled like a rock at the pit of Danny's stomach.

He couldn't bring himself to knock on that office door just yet so he fussed over Curaré instead. Kneeling down he straightened the collar of Curaré's hooded jacket and moveed her little backpack strap back up her shoulder where it had slipped.

" We got this. It's you and me now remember, even if this blows and you have to come to school with me for the rest of year it's you and me." Danny rested his hands on little shoulders and hung his head. " Jeez, I sound like my mom"

"No need to be so nervous Mijo! My Chiqis never met a kid she could turn away."

Danny's neck had never snapped up so fast in his life.

Curaré hadn't been looking up at him at all. No, Curaré was staring up towards the elderly woman floating near the ceiling.

Which was not great, because Danny for all the time had spent in Gotham had never seen another ghost. Not a single one.

Which was unsettling on its own but not bad per se, he'd thought maybe this dimension was just different, not enough spectral energy to manifest a ghostly body.

But no, again nope, this was so much worse.

No ghosts was easy enough to reationalize but one ghost? One ghost meant there was enough spectral energy, one ghost meant something was really really wrong with Gotham.

Because if there was only one ghost in a crime ridden pissed off city like this where the shit were all the others?

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

Yo! Just wanted to say thank u for all the support on part 1, did not expect people to like or care about it lol. Anyway back on bullshit, I've had this written for a while but didn't have the insp to post it until now.

Might write more, might not, you get one bat cameo for reading this time ur welcome.

Forgot to add this to the first post, it's in the reblogs, but TLDR Curaré is an assassin from batman beyond.

Note: if you wanna see cool art for this AU check the Danny and the little dead girl tag on my blog!

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc au #dpxdc #dc x dp #DP x DC #batman #Curaré #batman beyond #duke thomas #danny and the little deadgirl au #i really gotta think of a name for this AU if its gonna be a thing #do i have a plan for this? no no i do not #i have a vague idea about what happens in this universe and no real motivation to write it #batfam

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byunpum · 1 year

Text

My lost child…

Pair: Aunt Sully human x Spider Socorro (mother and son)

Warning: None. Cute, Kinda sad, Y/N being a good mother.

+REQUEST "Here"+

Note: My baby spider need love and attention. I got sentimental doing this writing. Auntie Y/N would be the perfect mother for him.

"Are you sure you want to keep this baby?" says norm, as you hold spider in your arms, a baby just 10 months old. The first time you saw this baby was in the arms of Socorro, a coworker. You were from the research area, but you still shared with other friends from other areas of work. And it was also the first time you saw the child of your husband's lover Miles Quaritch, who had betrayed you with this woman a few months ago.

She had a smile from ear to ear, showing her son to the others, with an air of self-satisfaction. She gave you a few glances as she laughed. You barely approach the group of ladies now surrounding the newborn. You decide to turn around and go back to the laboratories, you had a lot of work to do and the mission to escape to a safe area, in order to save the Omaticaya was your priority at the moment. After the war, many people were sent to earth, but some were too young to travel.

And there you were holding a baby that reminded you of all the pain you once had. But, what was this child's fault? None. "Yes…I'll take care of him" you say, pulling the spider closer to your chest. Norm watches you, he has been by your side all along, he knows how you feel. But he also knows your heart is so big. "You and your brother Jake have a heart like a chicken," he jokes. Norm knows he'll be safe with you.

That same night you are with spider, in your room. A small room, which had a very small bunk bed. A small dresser and a mirror next to it. You had to decorate it so it would be perfect for a baby. You are preparing a kind of nest with the sheets, you wanted him to sleep next to you. "ba b aba" spider barks, as you set up. "You're in the mood to talk, huh?" you laugh, as you reach over and give him a kiss on the cheeks. And you lay him down next to you, as you wrap him in your blanket. Your face is close to his face, while his cute little hands touch and caress your cheeks. As he lets out a few laughs. "You're a very happy baby… aren't you" you speak, stroking his golden curls. Spider begins to cry a little, and you pull him to your chest so that his head rests on your chest, so that he can hear your heartbeat.

This hurt you so much…you were not able to have children on your own, you had so many pregnancy losses that you had already lost all hope of being a mother. This was one of the many reasons why Quaritch had decided to look for another woman to give him what you could never give him. But here you were… caring for a baby that was the image of the betrayal that those two people had done to you. But your heart was not selfish, it was not cruel. It never had been… you couldn't be cruel to a baby who needed you. You needed him.

His little hands squeezed your hands, bringing one of your fingers to his hand. "I will take care of you… forever" you speak, as you stroke your boy's hair. For a moment you come back to reality, and there was spider, scared and hurt. His body was shaking with cold, as he hugged you and his head was pressed against your chest. Even though he was all wet, you could still feel the tears coming down from his eyes. "Mom…I'm scared," says spider, trying to breathe calmly into his oxygen mask.

You hadn't seen your son in the last 4 months since the RDA had kidnapped him, and now he was hugging you so tightly, you felt like he was going to crack a rib. " Darling…I'm here…it's ok. I found you, mommy is here" you speak while hugging your son. As you watch the boat sink into the sea. Your whole family was together, Jake and Neytiri and your nephews. Neteyam was hurt, but he was okay. Everyone hugs each other, while your sight drifts to the water… you almost lost what you loved the most in this life. You feel a hand drag you by the arm, and you see it's Jake. Hugging you and spider. "Here we are…together" Jake says, as the other family members gather to hug them.

Hours later, everyone was at the metkayina clan, in the marui that everyone shared. Neytiri was taking care of neteyam, and your other nephews were talking to each other. Jake had gone to talk to Tonowari and Ronal. While you were tending to spider's wounds, the boy was silently watching you carefully place the medicinal paste on his wounds. With such love and passion. "And how is he? Did you like meeting your father?" you ask him. Spider just says " mm yes" after a while you ask again.

"And you saw pictures of her… of your mom?" you ask, spider swallows hard. "Yes… and they told me about her. I even saw videos" says spider. Your heart squeezes a little, you're sure they told him about her. That they told him how wonderful his mother was, how he was such a wanted child. "It's good that you know who your mother was," you say, a little hurt. Neytiri was listening to the conversation, she knew the pain in your tone of voice. You had always had the feeling that the day would come when Spider would know more about his mother and you would move on.

Spider can see your face of disgust and sadness. The boy comes up to you and hugs you. "He and that woman do not affect my feelings for you. The one who took care of me…who raised me, and loved me is you…mom. My mother Y/N" says spider giving you a smile. You caress his face, and give him a kiss on his forehead. "I love you too my life" you speak. " I love you more…mama" spider rests his face in the crook of your neck.

Jake had returned from talking to Tonowari, as he walked in he saw the scene. Spider was still hugging you, while you stroked his hair. Jake carefully approaches neytiri's side, just as he sits down and begins to speak, the woman speaks. "eywa gives second chances, gives us something we have lost. It doesn't have to come in the best way…but it will always bring two lost souls together…like those two," says Neytiri, pointing at you. Jake is thoughtful for a moment.

"Am I missing something?" asks Jake, Neytiri just laughs and continues to look after Neteyam. Jake takes another look in your direction. You were hugging your son, he had never seen you so happy, your smile was just like his mother's, right there he could understand everything. Eywa always brings together souls that have been lost…always.

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bruhstation · 2 months

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steam team's seniors during their baby years

A friend group so weird and toxic to people they dislike it could rival It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia’s. They're not immune to the "I came to Sodor to avoid my problems and wanted a fresh start" trope many Sudrians also follow

Edward Pettigrew

Age: 31 as of 1984

A kind, friendly NWR railwayman who didn’t mind a lot of things and was popular amongst younger folks for his looks and demeanor. He likes showing newbies the ropes of the NWR and Sodor as a whole because he just loves infodumping. Despite being made fun of by some railwaymen for his “weirdness”, Edward worked hard and was known as the jack-of-all-trades by his peers, usually treating younger and newer railwaymen to drinks after work to get them accustomed to Sodor (he did this to Henry, then Gordon, then James). Originally from the village of Pezë in Tirana, Albania, 1940s. Due to his beginnings in a small rural village and the Albanian government’s censorship of outside influences and heavy restriction of traveling outside the country, Edward’s hunger for knowledge about the world grew more and more. His family had connections to the Lëvizja Nacional-Çlirimtare and Edward’s particularly bright and good at talking, so he became a diplomat to travel outside Albania – a step into his plans of learning more about the world. After landing himself in the United Kingdom and studying everything he wanted, he believes it’s still not enough. He found out about an island infamous for its supernatural occurrences and cases of people missing just off the coast of the UK – Sodor. Being the curious man he is, he discarded everything that’s needed for the LNÇ to locate him and landed on Sodor, gorging himself with every mystery the island has to offer. Impulsive? Yes. But for the first time, Edward felt true freedom. However, Edward got too curious and nosy and became a casualty in an accident fueled by supernatural hysteria related to Lady of the Legend and was transported around 40 years into the future, landing in 1983 with his memories all over the place. Despite losing his sense of self and having no idea what he is, his thirst for knowledge still lives on inside his head. His cheerfulness, amicability, and kindness are extensions he formed to make up for the hole inside his heart. Edward does love his friends, but he believes that if he can withhold information from them and make them all live in blissful ignorance, they can be truly happy – this all stems from his fear of exceeding his limits and being discarded (which he later copes by being a typical wise friendly old man in 1999). He often sees visages of Lady in his dreams.

Gordon J. Gresley

Age: 26 as of 1984

Joined after Henry. Looked like he was fresh out of a funeral. A young hotshot who was more polite, quiet, and reserved compared to his 1999 counterpart. Gordon started out as an apprentice fireman for the Wild Nor’Wester’s previous driver. He treated his arrival on Sodor as a desperate last resort to escape his issues and grief and pitifully believed he was “lumped with the social pariahs in the boonies”, but he’s gotten better and believed that this is where he can truly outshine everyone, much to the annoyance and chagrin of his seniors. Gordon acts like he knows what he’s doing in order to build up his image as someone who’s dependable and strong and revels in small basks of limelight. However, he was constantly uncomfortable with how Edward treated accidents as normal due to their survivors being in tip-top shape the next day and how Henry is so distrustful of and odd about everything and everyone and sweats 24/7, but he’s been masking and convincing himself that he’s not like the rest of them. He’s normal. He’s normal! Let’s all hold hands. Don’t be fooled by his sad face. Young Gordon can be arrogant and think he knows everything for being a youngin.

Henry Stanier

Age: 27 as of 1984

Joined after Edward, so he’s quite close to him. Gordon’s “senior” by 6 months. He’s always, ALWAYS scared endlessly about anything “out of the ordinary” and beats himself up over it, much to his own disgust. Henry had a deep rooted hatred and jealousy towards his peers for pitying him after a coworker revealed to other railwaymen that he’s narcoleptic without his permission. He’s been masking his disabilities despite it being detrimental for his well-being, but as long as people treated him “normally”, Henry would endure (dreadfully). He did this especially with Gordon, the newest addition to the Northwestern Railway at the time, because he didn’t want anyone else to treat him differently when they find out about his health issues. As an extention, Henry developed a vitriol towards Gordon too – he’s particularly jealous about how he’s so “ungrateful” of everything’s given to him like his fair looks, clothes, and position as the to-be face of the Wild Nor’Wester. They did become friends though despite the process not being easy. It’s okay. They became besties that were mean to old nosy folks. Initially wanted to pursue arts, but due to circumstances from his past related to his health and paranoia fueled by his past failures and “jinxes”, he came to Sodor as a half-hearted last resort to get a job. He wasn’t hopeful of having anyone respect him for who he is, but things do get better, much to his surprise.

James A. Hughes

Age: 25 as of 1989

Joined the NWR 5 years after Edward did. At that point, Gordon already discarded his GNR Green look and went for the blue attire (minus the big coat). Flaunts his beauty almost at any given time, especially when someone mildly complimented him. He’s more of a nerd (word used loosely because he acts like a know-it-all when he actually has no idea what he’s doing) compared to his canon, 1999 counterpart. James came to Sodor for a fresh start and believed he deserves more than what he’s given. He thinks he’s so tough and hard as nails – in fact it became his source of hubris because he gets into accidents and was scolded by his seniors for being so vain and stubborn. He doesn’t want to get dirty, he doesn’t want to shovel coal, he doesn’t want to get wet from the washdown suds – he only wants the good out of the work and doesn’t want to accept the “bad” sides as well, so James was branded as the “problem kid” of the NWR by older folks. James, who can’t handle harsh criticism and labels well, grow even more distant with them. He primarily hangs out with the RWS trio because they seem to understand his situation and the feeling of being “outcasted” (despite Gordon’s annoyance at his boastfulness).

#thomas the tank engine #thomas and friends #ttte edward #ttte gordon #ttte henry #ttte james #casa tidmouth #senjart #ngl using the phrase ‘’steam team’’ for cstm make me frown because it makes the main cast sound normal or closer #when it cant be more far from the truth in cstm #young edward's rockin the persona protagonist default expression #can you tell I had fun coloring gordon's piece #ALSO can you tell that young gordon is significantly thinner here #and henry too.#james looks like a handsome woman. a bokukko if you will #(well technically he CAN be a woman whenever he wants to be but you get me.)#when james joined gordon already got his blue uniform (minus the coat) but I HAVE to draw greendon SO. SOOOOOOO

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youre-amazing-say-it · 1 year

Note

Can i request avengers x teen!reader where she feels a bit left out because she's young and when they see it, they show her that they love her still and she's their baby? If you wanna write it ❤️

Left Out

Pairing; Avengers x teen!reader, Sam Wilson x teen!reader

Warning: IT IS SO SAD HOW THEY TREAT Y.N I CRIED

summary: the team always leaves you out of the celebration after the missions until a new team notices and brings it to there attention

"Great Job Team!" Tony said to 6 of his teammates: Steve, Natasha, Thor, Bruce, Clint, and Y/n. You were the newest and youngest addition to the team, this only being the 2nd mission you have been on with them. "And good job out there Y/n, the super speed sure came in handy today." You just nodded your head and smiled. "Thanks, Tony!" you responded.

"Usually Plan I assume?" Clint said looking at the billionaire. "Of course Katniss, the party starts at 8 so be there!" Tony said as he pointed at each of his teammates. "Um, party?" Y/n said as she looked at her coworkers. "Oh um," Bruce started to say before Natasha interjected.

"After big missions like these, Tony likes to throw parties to celebrate. Unfortunately, they are more adult parties so you can't come." the redhead stated as she sat down next to you on the bench of the Quinjet. "Oh," you said, "do these happen a lot?" you asked the group. "Not too often anymore now that you are here," Steve said giving you a warm smile. "Okay, sounds good," you said as you sent the group a smile. "I can give you company if you would like," Bruce said, the two of you were very alike in your introverted ways.

"that's fine, I still have some shows I want to catch up on." Thor came over and gave you a hug. "Thank you Lady Y/n, you are appreciated," he shouted. "Okay.. too much.." you tried to say until Thor finally let go. As the quinjet finally landed, Tony turned towards the team and clasped his hands together. "Let's get the party started."

It wasn't a one-time thing.

It turned into almost every mission that Tony was involved in or anytime the community wanted to celebrate the Avengers, excluding Y/n. You should have said something to someone, but as the youngest, you felt you didn't really have a say in the after-party. And it wasn't like they were ignoring you all the time, they were great friends and teammates. But the after-mission part just became routine that nobody noticed or asked how you felt.

The group just came back from another mission, this time with Sam Wilson with them. He was a new teammate and you didn't know him too well. But you knew that he worked at the VA and was a therapist of some sort.

"Seriously Y/n you did great on this mission, we couldn't have done it without you kiddo," Clint said as he patted your back. "Thanks, Arrow" you responded. "Hey Tony what time does the party start?" you asked. "Um around 9pm so you can go get your dinner quickly then head upstairs," Tony responded. You wanted to ask if you could all hang out as a team but with the way everyone responded to the party news, you didn't want to bring everyone down.

"You send Y/n upstairs for the party? Why doesn't she join?" Sam questioned looking puzzled. it wasn't a secret that you were one of the most helpful avengers. Your powers have helped a lot on a mission and saved countless lives, including your teammates. Before you could even speak, Steve spoke on your behalf.

"They like to spend after a mission in their room. It's routine for them." Steve said as he started to remove part of his mask. "You are okay with this Y/n?" Sam asked concerned. You put on a fake smile and nodded. "Yeah, as Steve said, it's routine," you commented. Sam could see you were hurt inside, but knew now wasn't the time to ask about it.

Later on, once the party was in full swing downstairs, you were in your room in your favorite pair of sweats and got a cupcake and a candle out of the fridge in the room. You had on y/f/m in the background as you sat on the bed with the cupcake on a plate. You were about to light the candle when you heard a knock on the door. "Come in," you responded. You were surprised someone even came to check on you.

Sam walked in and closed the door behind you and let out a sigh when he saw the image in front of him. "Please tell me they didn't forget your birthday or else I'll go down there and beat their asses." he quipped. You laughed as you shook your head. "No don't worry, it was just my 50th mission today," you responded as you lifted up your cupcake. "Want some?" you asked. Sam came and sat on the bed, "yeah why not." he responded.

The two of you ate in silence for a while before Sam spoke up. "Do you like spending your nights in here after missions?" he questioned looking at you. "Depends, most nights I don't mind, but on missions where I know I did a lot of help and they don't even include me in the celebration, that's when it sucks," you responded. "I thought that I would be invited tonight," you stated. You gestured to a short y/f/c dress that was in your closet. "I even had an outfit picked out." you laughed. It was stupid when you thought about it.

"Well go put on the outfit." Sam said with a straight face. "wait, really? I can come?" you asked with hope in your eyes. "I'm part of the team now, and I know it's no good for you to celebrate a big milestone alone," he said as he got off your bed. he extended his hand, which you took. "Now hurry and get ready, I don't want to wait all day." You turned towards Sam with a smile on your face. "Thanks, ill hurry I promise," you said as you locked your bathroom door.

Ten minutes later, the two of you were heading downstairs and the avengers and company were shocked to see you with Sam. Tony and the rest of the team were quick to approach you. "Hey, what are you doing down here kiddo? Thought you would be upstairs." Tony said with a glass of whiskey in hand. "She never wanted to be-" sam started before you put your hand on his arm. "Sam, I got this," you stated before turning back towards the group.

"I never wanted to be upstairs. During our first mission together, you guys kind of sent me upstairs because there was a party. And you promised that it would only happen every so often. And that didn't turn out to be true, and I was too afraid to say anything to correct you guys. But tonight was my 50th Mission, I was hoping that we can do something as a group to celebrate, and it seems you had all forgotten about it.” you stated to them. The group all looked incredibly guilty.

"It was your 50th mission?" bruce asked. "Yeah," you said with a laugh as you pulled back some hair. "I'm sorry Kiddo, we should have done better," Clint said with a sad face. "Yeah you should have." sam said annoyed. "How about this, I can kick these people out, give us an hour to clean up, and we can eat ice cream and watch a movie. sounds good?" Tony asked coming over to give you a hug. You looked up at him and smiled. "That sounds perfect." Tony smiled back before nodding toward Steve.

"Attention, everyone. Unfortunately, we are going to ask you all to leave so we can spend some team bonding time. But before you go," he said as you notice Natasha gave you a glass of your favorite drink and gave you a quick hug. "can we all raise our glasses to Y/n. Tonight was her 50th mission as an avenger, and we wouldn't be more grateful to have such an incredible person on the team. To Y/n." Steve said. The crowd responded as everyone cheered in your honor.

You wiped some of the tears from your eyes as you saw the guest leave down the main exit. Thor turned towards you and gave you a good pat on the head. "We are all very proud of you young one. Would you like some Asgardian Liquor to celebrate?"

"NOOO"

#avengers x teen!reader #avengers x reader #tony stark x teen!reader #tony stark x reader #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #thor x reader #thor x teen!reader #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x teen!reader #clint barton x teen!reader #clint barton x reader #sam wilson x teen!reader #sam wilson x reader

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tvgals · 9 months

Text

‘ PRETTY IN PINK ‘

harvard professor! toji x black! elle woods! reader

getting into harvard law was a piece of cake, but somehow getting into your professors pants was harder!

cw: black! reader, age gap by like 15 years, set in 2001

ENJOY !

you pull your pink satin eye mask over your bonnet and stretch. today was the day, the day you’d finally get professor fushiguro to give in. you’ve had your eye on him since you were a freshman, his brood and sarcastic demeanor making him even more attractive. you hop out of your bed and start to get ready. after half an hour of doing what you need to do, you grab your bella louis vuitton tote and slide into your heels, walking out the door. arriving to your first class you’re already out of breath, not from the route there, of course not, but the fact your english teacher, is sitting on toji’s desk. laughing. you purse your lips together and stare, holding your designer purse in front of you. it didn’t take long for toji to notice the girl wearing all pink in his doorway.

“need something?” toji said in his oh so deep and gravely voice. “oh no! i was just about to ask a question but i see you’re already talking to someone. i’ll be on my way.” and with that you speed walk down the hall, the familiar clacking of your heels against the schools polished marble floor getting further and further. tears well in your eyes, but why? it’s not like you and toji are dating, and if you two were, you’d be sure you still wouldn’t let these fat tears roll down your face. you race to the bathroom and push your bottom eyelids up on the way, forcing them to close. once you arrive you take the biggest stall there is and sit on the toilet, hiding your face in your hands. after about six minutes of sulking by yourself, you hear another pair of heels clacking against the floor.

“y/n?” spoke your english teacher. “yes?” you respond, trying to make it seem as if you weren’t just crying. “toji doesn’t like crybabies. i know you’ve been trying to get in his pants and all, but don’t bring the whole class down because you can’t handle your urges.” and with that, she leaves, leaving you a dumbstruck mess. the day just started. it’s only 7:30 in the morning. you take a moment to regather yourself, and walk out. this has been terrible already. you walk into your first class and sigh, ten minutes late. you’ve never been late a day in your life! you plop down in an open seat and grab your notebook, jotting down notes when it’s needed. everyone has had their eyes on you since you’d came here, your bold style and personality attracting attention wherever you went. now was not a good day to have eyes all on you. your usual behavior being a stark contrast to your now sad and mopey one.

“y/n stay after class please.” you teacher slips in during a lecture, you were lucky you caught it unless you’d be in for a treat. class was over and you stood by your teachers desk. “yes?” you ask, fiddling with the straps of your purse. “you’re never late. is something wrong?” she asks. your calculus teacher was a nice old white lady who wore a huge pair of wired glasses. “nope. just tired from exams and stuff.” you chuckle, fidgeting with your hair. “okay okay. well, make sure you get your eight hours to stay beautiful.” she grins. you leave with a “thank you.” and go to your next class.

lunch rolled around and you decided to make your way into toji’s classroom, standing in the doorway as seductively as you could. “hey, toji.” you say, rocking back and forth on your heel. “y/n.” toji says without even looking up from the paper he was grading. “could i speak to you?” you ask, walking towards toji and stopping in front of his desk. toji looks up at you through his glasses a smirk adorning his face. “speak.” toji tells you, looking up at you fully. “is there anyway i could get extra credit?” you ask, putting your louis vuitton bag on his desk, starting to unbutton the top of your blazer. toji starts laughing, standing up and towering over you. you look up at him, swallowing hard.

“you think seducing me will get me to want you more?” he asks, pulling you into his body into the small of your back. he leans down into your ear, his breath hitting the shell of your ear. “because it’s working…” he says, trailing his hand down your skirt. you let out a sigh, bringing your arms around his neck. “lunch ends in 10 minutes…” you whine out, propping yourself against toji’s desk. toji looks up at you with a hungry stare. “better cum in 10 minutes then…” toji chuckled, pulling your panties to the side and slipping two fingers into your cunt with a groan. “look at you.” he grins. “what’s your grade?” toji asks, making casual conversation.

“a…b minus..” you whine, arching your back. “mmm…you’re a smart girl. i don’t have any idea how you have a b minus in my class. it’s as if you’ve been planning this for a while.” toji smiles, pumping his fingers faster. he was catching onto you. it was as if he knew your every move. when you only responded with breathy moans and a whine of “five minutes left…” toji grinned at you, curving his fingers — hitting that spongey spot in you. you arch your back and cum on toji’s finger with a high pitched moan. toji slaps his hand over your mouth and takes his fingers out of you, sucking on his fingers.

“go to class.” he says, popping his fingers from his plush lips.

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xan-izme · 9 months

Text

Dubble Life (ACTSV x reader x Batfam) 4

Summary: Reader made a promise to never let Spider-Woman out. Knowing the dangers of putting that mask on. Reader is starting off fresh now, and they will be damned if anyone tries to have you pull that mask down your face again.

Part 3 Part 5

TW: break downs, mentions of past trauma, mentions of mental health

"Just listen to me!" Gwen was following you as you were still franticly searching for Damian.

"Bug off Gwen. Don't need the society's shit right now." You spoke harshly. Gwen sighed as she watched your stressed expression switch between worry and frustration.

Gwen stopped and spoke. "I know your probably still hurting. But New York needs Spider Woman. Your uncle and Miles can't hold Brooklyn down forever." You paused and turned your head to the blonde.

"More anomalies are showing up. The Prowlers aren't fit to control them. If this keeps up, who knows what will happen." Gwen was staring at you with those big blue eyes of her's.

You always used to like looking into Gwen's eyes. Her eyes always held this kind of sadness in them, sadness you and her connected with. But no, you see no connection. At least not the same as before.

". . .I'm sorry Gwendy. But I don't have time for this."

You made sure the coast was clear before shooting a web to a nearby building and land in an alleyway.

After nearly two hours of searching for Damian and nearly having a break down. Alfred was able to find you and inform you that Damian was safe and was currently with Bruce. Damian had wanted to stay with Bruce. And you decided to go back to the manor.

"Don't do that again Damian. You can't just leave your sister like that." Bruce scolded his son for making you worry. Knowing you must have been freaking out with the way he had disappeared. Damian sighed.

"If she's cross with me, then I'll tell her I went back for this." Damian lifted up an album. Bruce frowns in confusion. Because how the hell is a Boney M album going to calm you down?

"Lady Y/n. Is there anything you need before-"

"No Alfred! I just need some rest; I'll be in my room." You rushed up the stairs. And slammed your room door.

You finally took a seat on your bed. A second passed, and your breathing started to pick up, a minute passed, and your eyes began to sting from the incoming tears that seem to build up until your eyes couldn't hold them any longer, letting the tear drops fall.

It wasn't long till you became a sobbing mess.

it was too much. Emotions you didn't know were still in you started to burst out of control. You were a crying mess.

Why?

Were you stressed?

Or is it that you miss your family back in New York?

Were you upset seeing Gwen? Was seeing her bring back memories that you didn't want to see? Memories of people you don't want to remember?

No. . . that's not it, is it.

It was what happened with Damian. How he let your hand go, and just disappeared. It's funny, you don't really like the boy. Well, his attuited is what you distaste the most. But you were crying, because you thought you almost lost him.

You were scared you almost let someone who was your blood, your kin, die.

What a silly thought. Don't be thinking these things. Suck it up, you keep doing this and let these feelings show to the family. They won't be happy. If they aren't happy because you're not happy. You'll ruin the mood.

So, suck it up, you thought to yourself. Forget those silly thoughts, forget that knot you feel in your chest. Because your Y/n Morals- . . . Wayne. Y/n Wayne.

And this family, this manor. Is your fresh start. Your new beginning. And in order to make sure this new life of yours is to keep them safe. Make sure Spider-woman is never involved in their lives. Make sure they live.

Hours passed. There was no dinner time tonight. Which you were thankful for. You washed up and got yourself ready for bed.

Your phone began to ring. You stared at the contact number.

Miles👾

You took in a shaky breath and answered the call.

"Hey. . .you good?"

You smiled in relief from hearing your cousins voice.

"Yea. . . did you need something? Is Tia Rio, okay?" You questioned. Worried by the way Miles spoke.

"No- I mean yes! yes Mami's alright, It just . . ."

Your eyes squint, getting curies, and a little worried as to what was the matter.

"Just what?" Your voice seemed to have snapped Miles out of whatever train of thought he had.

"One of those people, a woman. Jess, she said her name was. She stopped by here. Saying she had a package for you."

You felt your heart stop for a second. Why the hell was Jess there.?

"A-and I heard her talking to dad. She claimed she was a doctor you and your mom used to go to. Sis, she was saying some shit bout you being mentally ill. And it looks like Dad and Mami bought it."

You began cussing at whatever caused this to happen.

"I just wanted to give you a heads up. Mami's going to drop off the package tomorrow at noon. She'll most likely bring it up to Bruce."

You sighed. You can handle this. You just have to observe, be patent and don't jump too early. Make sure to make the right moves. One wrong move, especially in front of Tia Rio. It's game over.

"Thanks bro. Goodnight, love you." You say as you lean on your desk. Your posture made it clear that you were absolutely exhausted for the day.

"Love you too. Good luck."

Miles hung up and you were once again alone with the silence in your room. You grabbed a CD and popped it in the CD player. You had to keep yourself distracted.

You needed to be distant from those silly thoughts. But don't float away now, you have to plan on how things are going to be tomorrow.

You want to jump and go straight into why in the hell did Jessica Drew go to Miles's house. A place you had made clear was off limits. You had informed Jess and Peter B that the places where your family is, are off-limits. Meaning Uncle Aarons apartment, Miles's apartment and the Wayne Manor in Gotham.

But for now, focus on the challenges that are in front of you now.

The next day came around. Damian had apologized and gave you a album as an apology.

You ended up forcing him to watch a horrible rom com just to get something out of it. And you did.

"That was stupid, and I'm never doing this again."

You laughed at Damian's words. The boy was truly fun to watch. A second past before you two heard a knock. You both look at the doorway to see Alfred.

"Lady Y/n. Your aunt is here to see you." The man said.

You began to mentally prepare yourself as you stood up and walked off to your room, that was where Alfred led Rio to wait for you.

As Rio was waiting for you. She took a look at your room. Your books were organized on the bookshelf. Pictures of you and Miles when you two were younger on the walls. One picture was on your nightstand. It was of her sister, your mother.

Rio didn't know you were seeing a therapist. Well, after what happened with that friend of yours a few years back. You did need it.

You just seemed so happy, even after that incident. But Rio now knows that you were only so happy because of your mother. After she died, Rio hasn't heard your laugh in a while.

The door to your room opened. You smiled, walking towards Rio with a smile.

Rio hugged you tight. She pulled away and saw how tired you look. She cups your face in worry.

"Oh, my baby. You look tired, have you been sleeping? Are you eating well? How about Bruce? Is he being good to you? I sware if he is not-" You chuckled and held both of her hands and kept them close to you.

"I'm okay, Bruce is nice. He's been spoiling me actually."

Rio calmed down and nods "And sleep? Hija mía, parece que no has dormido."

"Ah, I fell behind my studies last week and have been working to catch up. Don't worry I'm good now. My grades are safe!"

Rio smiled and sighed in relief. "I came here to drop this off. Your Therapist, Mrs. Drew?" Rio took out a box that was a size of a jewelry box. You took it and set it down on your nightstand.

"Honey is-. . ." You waited for what Rio was going to say. Was she going to ask about that 'theripist' of yours? Whatever Jess said, it seems to have made Rio upset.

"Is Bruce here? I need to speak to him."

You sighed and shook your head "Sorry, he's still at work." Rio nods and just smiled again as she gave your hand a squeeze before letting go. You and Rio went downstairs so you could walk her to her car.

"Oh! I almost forgot to tell you. Your uncle has got a new position now. He's going to be captain!" Rio smiled widely as she told you news.

You smiled and grabbed her hand. You kissed the back of her hand gave it a tight squeeze "Thats amazing"

You were spacing out. It looked like you were staring at something but thinking of nothing. But you were thinking of a lot of things. You wanted to live peacefully. Is that selfish?

Being Spider-Woman was amazing. You felt strong, felt like you could overcome anything that came your way. And protect loved ones made you feel safe. Knowing that you could protect them, made you feel safe.

But after your mother. After finding out the truth from Miguel. You didn't feel safe, you no longer felt like you could keep your loved ones or anyone around you safe. Not when you have that mask on.

So, you gave up the mask, made sure that without a Spider woman in your universe, things wouldn't go to hell. But every time, every time you thought things were okay, thought that everyone was safe from Spider Woman. The society keeps coming to ruin it. You had to find a way to stop them.

"Y/n? Hello?"

You snapped out of your train of thought. "Huh? Oh, sorry Damian, what were you saying?" You leaned in on your palm and gave your brother a smile.

"Movie. I'm bored." The boy bluntly said. You paused and began to process what he said. You smiled warmly and walked with Damian to the screen room.

You swear to all the gods, you won't let the mask take what you have left.

#atsv x reader #miles morales #miguel o'hara #mental health #gwen spiderverse #batfam x batsis #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader #damian wayne #dick grayson #rio morales #alfred pennyworth #slight angst

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 9 months

Note

Soooo for the Ruin dlc,how about a ghost!child!reader who was murdered by Vanny meeting Cassie and kind of just following her around and also doing the best they can to help her with them being a ghost?

-Greek myth anon 📜

When Cassie first saw you, she thought you were part of the AR network, but you're still present even when she takes off the mask.

"Wh-Who are you?"

"[Y/n]...it's..a long story, but I kinda died here and I've been stuck haunting this place ever since."

"Oh no...did one of the Glamrocks kill you..?"

"No, but this lady in a rabbit costume did...that used to be hers." You point out the security mask, frowning. "Why do you have it?"

"I...I don't know. Some STAFF bot gave it to me. I need it to disable all the security systems."

"And..why is that?"

"I'm looking for my friend. He's trapped beneath the raceway..can you help me?" She pleads.

"....maybe, but I can't really do much from...wherever I am now." You tell her, although you agree to accompany her throughout the ruined pizzaplex.

Whenever she puts on that mask again, you feel uneasy and have to look away a lot, feeling sick to your stomach. She always apologizes, though, and takes it off as soon as she's done with her current task.

You do what you can to help her in her journey, such as temporarily possessing STAFF bots to distract the Glamrocks should they show up---yet none of them really hold up for long as they're quickly destroyed or shutdown.

It was sad, as you have watched all of them rot and decay both physically and mentally over the years...no longer being those animatronics you once adored.

Eventually you both encountered Roxy after you found a security bot in good condition to pilot, and you're stunned that she actually recognizes Cassie.

And later on, she recognizes your voice, too, and you gave her some comfort as she's deactivated by her human friend.

You could see she's torn up about it, and you also console her as she cries, clearly feeling guilty and stressed over everything.

"I-I didn't want to do it...but...I had no choice..!"

"I'm sure she understood, Cassie." You pat her back. "We have to keep going...for Gregory. And then you guys can go home and forget this horrible nightmare."

"B-But...But what about you..?" She sniffles. "Is there something keeping you here?"

"I thought it was that rabbit lady, but..I couldn't find her anywhere. And I've been here for years, stalking her until she just...disappeared one day."

While it's indeed a worrying thought, you tried pushing it into the back of your mind, assuring Cassie that your primary concerns are with her and not yourself.

Maybe your reason for being stuck here was to make sure nobody else went missing.

You could settle for that, as you didn't want anymore kids your age falling victim to Vanny or any of her horrid creations.

Cassie wasn't going to be one of them. Not on your watch.

#clanask #greek myth anon #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf sb x reader #fnaf security breach x reader #fnaf ruin x reader #ruin spoilers #fnaf cassie #ghost reader #child reader #headcanons

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azrielslightintheshadows · 5 months

Note

can i please request something with eris x reader where reader is the sister of Rhysand and she’s secretly meeting him and they’re in love and mated. She becomes pregnant and her instincts wants her closer to her mate so she finds every excise to go to the autumn court, claiming that since eris is a new high lord they need to make good connections. Rhysand tells her to stay there for a month and she leaves. Thst one month she fakes letters to them and tells everything runs smoothly when she knows that eris wouldn’t ever declare war against his mates home. Eris hates that she’s not with him and they decide to tell the inner circle. They’re angry at first but them reader explains that eris and rhysand are the same, wearing a mask. So they accept him when they see how extremely protective he is of her, defending her when rhysand yelled at her. They’re accepted and leave for the autumn court for the baby where she becomes high lady👀

Everything is going to be okay.

Eris x f!Reader

Masterlist.

Warnings; angst, swearing, mentions of death, clipping, abuse and sex

Okay I was really excited about this. Thank you for the incredible request. I hope you enjoy it!

Velaris was your home, and it wasn’t just the beautiful and peaceful city that made it your home, it was the people there… your family. You had barely escaped death, your mother was able to hide you and you had watched her and your sister howling in pain as their wings were ripped from their backs, you were almost caught when they chopped off their heads making you throw up. The noise caught the attention of one of the males, but you quickly placed your hand over your mouth and nose keeping you silent. You only left your hiding place when you heard your older brother’s -Rhysand’s deep and soothing voice, you ran into his arms crying and screaming. Sometimes when you are feeling scared or sad you can still feel the ghost of his hands, engulfing you tightly and his warmth keeping you safe.

The trauma never faded, especially for Rhys… he became paranoid about your safety and at some point, he even locked you in the house of wind, warding it so only Cassian, Azriel, Mor, Amren and he could get in or out. When Rhys was trapped under the mountain everything changed, you became the ruler of the court of dreams with your cousin’s -Mor’s help. You both worked hard day and night to keep Velaris hidden and the people safe, you both felt that you owed this to your brother who so selflessly traded his life for your freedom and happiness.

Then Rhysand came back, and took control of the Night Court again, but this time he noticed how strong you became and made you his emissary. That’s how you met your mate, the heir of the Autumn Court, the prince. He had come to Hewn city to make a bargain with your brother, and the moment he stepped in front of your brother’s throne and his eyes fell on you on Rhysand’s right side the bond snapped. You sent him a thankful look when he didn’t say anything and later that evening he found you alone, trapping you between his strong body and the wall. He cupped your face and snorted.

“A princess for the prince” he had said with a smirk.

You knew you had to stay away from him, you knew that if your brother ever found out he would lock you in the house of wind again and probably murder your mate slowly and painfully. But you couldn’t, you immediately saw through Eris’ mask, you could see how his eyes softened when he looked at you and how his hand trembled by the power he used to keep it from touching you. He showed you so much respect and affection that at some point made you wonder if he really was Beron’s son. Other than that, his looks didn’t help with staying away, the Autumn heir is a sight for sore eyes. Strong and sculpted body, sharp face decorated with the most beautiful amber eyes you have ever seen and full lips that look so soft and biteable. You craved him, you wanted to devour him. Every night you would dream about him, about the things you wanted him to do to you and when it all became too much you pulled the bond and sneaked out to find him. You kept meeting him secretly and after a few months you accepted the bond, asking Lucien to put a glamour on you so your family wouldn’t smell Eris’ scent on you and making him swear not to tell anyone. Lucien kept his oath and covered for you when you sneaked out to find his brother.

It had been a year since you accepted the bond when two things happened at the same day. Rhysand helped Eris kill Beron and you found out you were pregnant.

Eris was busy with his new duties and the night court was on lockdown until they figured what your mate’s plans were, so sneaking out to find him wasn’t an option anymore and your pregnancy making you yearn for your mate wasn’t helping at all. You were completely frustrated, and your anxiety had reached its peak, you knew that your baby bump would be visible in a few weeks, and you dreaded your brother’s reaction.

“I can send Mor there its too risky for you” Rhysand used his high lord’s voice as he spoke to you. “Are you kidding me? You want to send Mor to the Autumn Court? After everything that she went through?” you threw your hands up in the air and yelled.

“She forgave Eris a long time ago” Rhys argued.

“Our court’s relationship with the Autumn is fragile, if you send your sister there it’s a message of trust and respect. After all I’m one of your most trusted emissaries, you know that I will never betray you.” Your face was red, you were so frustrated, and your body shook with need. Need to touch your mate, to be close to him, to feel his warmth and affection. Your baby needed its father, and you wouldn’t let it down.

Rhys rubbed his face and sighed. “Okay, you are right. You will go there for a month, I expect you to write to me every Friday and if you sense something wrong you will come back immediately.”

You smiled and ran to him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you! I won’t let you or our court down” you promised and hurried off to pack.

After saying goodbye to everyone you winnowed right outside of the Autumn court’s palace, Eris was waiting at the gates a smile on his face as he saw you.

“Finally, Rhys wrote to me three hours ago” he rolled his eyes and smirked.

“I had to pack” you smiled and shrugged.

He took your bags and guided you to your room. The moment the door closed and no one could see you, Eris threw your bags on the bed and picked you up, spinning you around and kissing your neck. “I missed you so much little fox” he murmured between kisses.

“I missed you too my lord” you replied, and he growled at the new title. His arms tightened around you and the kisses became bites. “How do you wish to be taken little fox” he breathed and carried you to the bed.

“Wait” you gasped as he laid you down and crawled on top of you. He froze and kept himself higher, not a single part of him touching you. You always loved how respectful he is whenever you tell him to stop or wait.

“I want to tell you something” you continued, and he tried to stand up. You quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him down on you. “What is it baby?�� he asked and stared at your eyes anxiously.

“We are not alone” you smiled, and he furrowed his eyebrows.

He watched as your hand grabbed his own and placed it on your abdomen, pressing slightly. He blinked, realization hitting him like a brick.

“Are you?” he whispered.

“Your heir is in there” you replied, your voice soft and filled with love. “My heir…” he repeated, and his thumb caressed your soft skin.

You teared up at the feelings he was shoving down the bond, happiness, love, pride and fear.

“Everything is going to be okay” you reassured him.

“Does your brother know?” he asked after the initial shock.

“Not yet” you replied, and he nodded.

He pushed your shirt up and moved so he was on the same level as your belly, he left small kisses there. “I will always protect you.” He glanced at you “Both of you”.

You spent the rest of the day in your room with Eris making love to you and worshiping your body.

He left early in the morning not wanting someone to see him and you pressed your head on his pillow, needing to feel his warmth and scent. His words kept replaying in your mind.

“I can’t wait for your belly to grow.” “Fuck you’re going to be so beautiful.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🍁 🍂 ☁️˙✧˖°

You spent the rest of the days exploring the palace, getting to know Lady Autumn and the people there. Every night Eris would sneak into your room and stay there until the morning. The first Friday you wrote a quick letter to Rhysand explaining that Eris is way too busy handling the problems in his court to even care about the other courts. He responded quickly “Okay be safe, I love you”.

You felt guilty for lying to him, but every time Eris would come and lay his head on your belly, talking to the baby and kissing your soft skin your guilt would turn into anger. How could your brother not see the mask Eris wore? They were practically the same. You shouldn’t have to hide your mating bond just because Rhys doesn’t want to see the truth.

Next Friday came and you went into Eris’ office asking for his help to write the letter.

Eris seems to want to keep the peace between Autumn and Night for now.

You wrote and sent it to Rhys. The reply came a few moments later.

Find out his plans for the future. You can do this, I believe in you. I love you.

You sighed and stared at your mate.

“You know that I would never attack your court, right?” he asked with a frown. “Yes but I can’t say that to Rhys, he will ask me how I know that… what will I say? Because he is my mate and I’m pregnant with his child? I’m going to give him a heart attack!”

“I know but he will find out eventually” Eris sighed.

“Eventually” you repeated and sat on his lap, hiding your face in his neck.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🍁 🍂 ☁️˙✧˖°

The month passed way to quickly and Eris watched as you packed your bags with a sad smile. His eyes stayed on your covered baby bump.

“Okay, I think I’m ready” you announced, and he growled.

His eyes became darker, his stare possessive and the candles in the room flickered.

“No.” he yelled “Enough with this shit. You will stay here by my fucking side as my wife and the mother of my heir! If Rhysand has a fucking problem with that then I will start a fucking war!” his voice was lethal as he spoke. The primal need to protect his mate and child taking over. You had never seen him look so feral and you took a step back.

“Baby calm down… please” you softly said.

“I can’t stand this anymore y/n. I want my mate by my side.”

“Okay then come with me. We can tell them together.” You offered your heart breaking by the sadness in his eyes.

He nodded and took your hand. You winnowed to Velaris and dropped in the house of wind. Eris glanced around curiously, and you both walked inside.

Cassian, Azriel and Nesta were sitting in the dining room all of their eyes widening as they saw Eris.

“What is he doing here?” Cassian growled while Azriel’s eyes unfocused, you knew he was calling Rhysand. Eris snorted but didn’t speak as you squeezed his hand.

You ignored Cassian and pulled Eris with you towards the table, you both sat down next to each other and waited.

“Y/n I asked you something” Cassian spoke again and stared at you.

“And I didn’t reply.” You shrugged “I’m waiting for my brother -your High Lord”.

Everyone kept staring at the two of you, Cassian and Azriel were gripping their daggers ready to attack if Eris made a wrong move. Your mate had a bored expression on his face, completely ignoring the two Illyrian warriors. His hand was holding your own tightly and his thumb was rubbing soothing circles.

Rhysand appeared a few minutes later with Feyre, he scowled when he saw Eris and moved gracefully to the chair at the head of the table. A statement.

“What’s going on?” he asked as everyone took a seat around the table, their eyes never leaving you and Eris. “Eris is my mate” you announced.

Feyre and Nesta gasped while Rhysand let a low growl.

“We found out the day he visited Hewn City to make the bargain with you. At first, we kept our distance, but the bond was so strong that I sneaked out to find him a few days later. We’ve been together ever since.”

You could see hurt flashing into Rhysand’s violet eyes and you sighed.

“No!” Rhysand snarled “I won’t let my sister get involved with a monster. His father abused his mother daily, and what do they say? Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?”

Eris was seething and you stood up abruptly. “Are you serious right now? I didn’t expect you out of all the people to be so blind. Can’t you see that everything he does is a façade? You do the same fucking shit every time you visit Hewn city. Guess what… Eris doesn’t have a dreamy court where he can stay and be himself, he has to wake up every day and wear the fucking mask in order to keep his court from falling apart!” You were screaming so loud that your face became red and all the veins in your neck popped.

Eris cursed under his breath and got up too, he wrapped his arm around you and cupped your face with the other. “Can someone get her some fucking water?” he growled, and a glass appeared in front of him. “Its okay little fox, calm down” he whispered in your ear, leaving a kiss on your temple as he pushed your shoulders down making you sit.

“Rhysand” Eris spoke “I don’t care about your opinion, she is my mate and the laws of Prythian allow me to claim her, I’m only here because I care for her, and I don’t want her to lose her family.”

Rhysand scoffed. “I don’t care about the stupid laws, all the other High Lords will stand by my side. They will understand that I want to protect my sister.”

“Not when she is carrying my heir” Eris smirked.

“What?” your brother yelled and got up. His dark power was flowing into the room making you shiver. Cassian and Azriel jumped on their feet ready to support their High Lord.

Eris growled and a shield of fire appeared around you, leaving him defenseless against your brother.

Rhysand stared at the scene in front of him, he could see the worry in Eris’ eyes, not for his self but for you. He saw how your arm stretched to grab your mate and the shield pushed it back.

“Do you love her?” he asked.

“More than my heart can handle” Eris responded immediately, not a hint of hesitation.

“Do you love him?” your brother glanced at you. You nodded and let the tears flow.

“Do you swear to keep her safe and happy?” he asked Eris.

Your mate nodded and you saw a small tattoo appearing behind his ear. You watched as the rest of the inner circle nodded and relaxed.

“Okay. If I find out that you mistreated her in any way, I will let Azriel find you and do as he please”.

Eris scoffed. “You are welcome in my court to participate in the ceremony”.

Your mate paused and looked at you “I’m going to swear her in as my High Lady” he continued with a soft smile. You almost choked on air and stared at him with wide eyes.

Everyone smiled at that and suddenly the shield of fire dissolved and Eris offered you his hand.

You both walked out and you glanced at Rhysand one last time.

“ We will be there” Rhysand said.

Everything is going to be okay indeed.

I have received 11 requests and I'm so happy but also stressed. Please excuse any delay my poor brain can't make so many stories in one day!

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witch-and-her-witcher · 2 months

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Little Tiger

feysand, feyre & nyx, rhys & nyx | G | angst, family, hurt/comfort, fluff

based off of this headcanon post. just a little sad, but ends with fluff.

thanks as ever to the support squad. 🥺❤️

ao3

~*~

“Should I take watch, darling?”

“No. This is my mess to clean up.”

“Maybe you should cool off —”

“No.” Feyre bites down on the inside of her cheek. Cool off? What else has she been doing, perched in this tree top — on out of practice, aching knees while rain drizzled down through the canopy? “Thank you,” she adds, because it really is her own mess and her husband doesn't deserve her venom.

That belongs solely to herself.

And maybe some as well for her —

Her thoughts cut off as the gentlest snap of a twig underfoot gives away a new presence.

Feyre hones her gaze on the forest floor beneath her ambush spot.

The smell of citrus and jasmine is just barely there: hidden under damp foliage, river mud caked fur, and hot breath scented with gristle stuck between teeth. An old meal, if the noxious odor is any tell.

An odd sensation runs through her: concurrent twisting of her gut in anxiety as well as the sharp bloom of anger heating her neck, cheeks, all the way to the point of her ears.

Feyre checks that her shields are in place, carefully masking every aspect of her presence. Forces every inch of her body to draw tight as a bow string.

Doesn’t risk breathing even as her prey draws out of the shadows of a Night monsoon drenched frond. Shoulder bones, drawn tight in a crouch, protrude out of an inky black pelt.

Closer, closer.

Feyre’s quarry is focused completely on the dazed fowl clucking and flapping in the narrow clearing.

The high altitude rainforest is alive this evening with bugs chirping, birds ducking to and fro in the tree tops, but even the bullfrogs stop their persistent calls as the juvenile tiger approaches with ill-practiced stealth.

No wonder the meal on the tiger’s breath is old.

Probably something that was sick or dying, easy pickings.

Somehow, Feyre tenses further as one paw draws in front of another, just moments away from triggering —

“Go easy on him,” Rhys sends his final plea.

And this is exactly why he isn’t here.

“You’ve grown soft in your old age.”

“In fatherhood, yes. I would like my son to return home in one piece.”

Those front paws press just the right amount of weight down.

The snare releases with a sharp twang.

The sound is nothing compared to the ferocious yeowling of the tiger.

Feyre drops into the clearing, lifting the spell from the brightly colored fowl and letting it squawk away in a flutter of feathers, and locks eyes with the tiger’s stormy blue gaze just as its jaws clamp shut.

“No promises.”

“Remember you love him, remember the picture hanging above the mantel he gifted you last Solstice —”

Feyre cuts off the tether between herself and her overprotective, doting to a fault, far too soft mate.

Anger courses through her veins.

“Nyx Archeron, you will shift back. Now.”

The might of the woman who faced down a Middengard Wyrm with nothing but sheer grit and a hand crafted bone speer speaks through her. There’s no warmth, no kindness, only the hardness that has seen her through battles, through loss, through condemning her citizens when necessary.

Her son stares back with all of the same, unearned defiance, through the grizzled face of the tiger he’s become so fond of in his pre-adolescence.

“Nyx. Now.”

Feyre throws in the weight of the High Lady behind her command. An overstep she will feel guilt over later — later, when anger isn’t riding every one of her nerve endings.

Nyx bares his unclean teeth at her.

But fortunately for his hide, it’s a dirty-faced fae child facing her a moment later.

Arms crossed over his bare chest that’s littered with scrapes and various burrs and pokers from the plants he’s been dragging his body across out in the forest miles outside of Velaris.

“You have one minute to explain yourself.”

Those lips, his father’s lips, press into a hard line. Nyx’s stubborn expression is only punctuated by the draw of those dark brows.

Another torrent of heat flares within Feyre at that look.

That damn look she’s become so familiar with in the last few months.

“Fifty seconds.”

“I know how to count,” he snaps, as if he just can’t help himself.

His mouth snaps closed with an audible clack.

A growl rips from Feyre’s throat.

Mother above, no one had prepared Feyre for this part of parenting.

She was ready for love so great, so overwhelming that she wouldn’t even hesitate at the thought of sacrificing her life for this child. Prepared for insurmountable joy at watching him experience the world, all of his first times. Pride over his growth and the almost greater sadness over every conquered milestone, every sign that he’s not that same baby she held so, so close. Anxiety over keeping him safe, providing for him, giving him the best youth to not only grow into himself, but into the court he will one day rule.

But the shift in emotions?

When the anxiety over his well-being morphed into fear and anger and devastation that her child would act against her, against all of the love and thought his parents poured into him?

And for what?

An act of rebellion?

To get attention?

“You will speak now!” Feyre roars.

Days. It's been days since her son ran away.

For the life of her, she couldn’t understand the joking nature Nyx’s uncles took the news with, the shit talking and arm punching that accompanied comments like, “Like father, like son, huh? Nothing like a prince sized temper tantrum.”

Her baby gone — by choice, none the less — and they all acted as if it were some rite of passage.

Feyre hasn’t slept. Hasn’t eaten. Hasn’t been able to function outside of pacing the halls, waiting for Nyx to give in and come back home like they all kept saying was inevitable.

The comfort of her and Rhys’s daemati powers feeling his presence still within their borders did little to ease her mind.

He’d accepted Rhys into his mind, had assured his father that he needed to do this, that Rhys wouldn’t understand, before shoving him out.

He hadn’t accepted Feyre’s attempts to contact him.

Nyx didn’t want his mother.

And that thought has been eating Feyre up from the inside out along with every other undulating pulse of fury, indignation, and anguish.

“Why are you even pretending you care?”

“Excuse me?” Feyre mirrors his arm crossed posture, ignoring the strain in her muscles from the long stake out. Her son had held out longer than she expected before giving in to his growling stomach and going for the too-easy trap.

“Go adopt one of those kids from the orphanage since you love them so much more —”

“Is that what this is about?” Feyre has to force herself to breathe against the new surge of insurmountable disappointment, disbelief. “You’re jealous I have been spending time with less fortunate children? You ran away, driving your family mad with worry, to throw a fit to get more attention because I am doing my duty as High Lady and a person with a beating heart by checking in on — I — Wow. Wow.”

“Please, you both knew where I was the whole time,” Nyx grumbles, eyes shifting down for the first time.

“That’s not the point, Nyx!”

Nyx’s wings jut even higher with his stiff posture.

“What were you thinking?” Feyre grounds out. “I can’t — I don’t even know the boy I’m looking at right now. To be so self-centered is beyond you.”

Hurt flashes in those big, blue eyes. “I did it because of you.”

“To get my attention? Well, here you go, Nyx, here’s my attention —”

“No!” Nyx cries out, the sharp bite of the tiger’s screams echoing still. “Because I overheard what you said to Aunt Nesta!”

Feyre screws up her face in confusion. “What are you talking about? What I said to Aunt Nesta? Nyx, there’s no excuse for behavior like this —”

“You were telling her what a spoiled brat I am! How entitled I’ve become! How I’ll never … I’ll never understand how you were raised, those lessons you learned.”

All of the emotions Feyre had been feeling gutter out.

Tears begin to line Nyx’s eyes in a silver limned underlining of the truth.

Nyx had overheard …

“I … That’s not what I meant,” Feyre croaks.

She reaches out her hand to touch her son’s shoulder, to try and convey the misunderstanding of the conversation, of her intent.

But Nyx steps back out of her reach. He locks his jaw tight again even as a few tears slip free.

“Nyx, I’m so sorry —”

“That’s what you said. I’m spoiled. You understand the younglings in the orphanage better than your own son.”

It hits her like a leaden weight.

The regret of her words being overheard and the inability to explain the complexity of it all. The heart wrenching understanding of just how Nyx would have taken those words.

A betrayal.

And a reminder that her little boy is more aware, every day understanding more and more about the significance of what is said around him, about him.

“I thought maybe if I lived rough for a while, you’d understand me more …” Nyx swipes the back of his hand beneath his nose to wipe where it’s begun running. “Love me, like those kids.”

Nyx had run away because of the pain she had caused. His own mother who should only love, support, guide —

“You didn’t mean it the way he’s taking it, darling.”

The shock of her son’s words must have lowered her shields.

Feyre bites back her own hot tears threatening to spill, the knot in her throat, because she doesn’t deserve the comforting caress along her mind, the thoughtful strum of the bond.

“Nyx —” Feyre clears her throat, clears away the broken sound. What can she say to make this right? “Nyx. What I said to Aunt Nesta is complicated.” Gods, she’s feeling her age. Unprepared. She doesn’t deserve her son, doesn’t deserve to inflict this inexperience on him. “I’m sorry you overheard it, I really am. But you have to know how much I love you?”

Before he can answer, a low, guttural rumble from deep within Nyx’s belly cuts through the distance between them.

“Talk after he’s eaten.”

“I know how to care for our son,” Feyre snaps, the inadequacy riding out logic for a moment. But then she considers what she’s already done to one member of their family, and adds softly, “I know you mean well. But this is …”

“Nothing that will be solved right away,” Rhys says gently. “You are a good mother. I’m proud of you.”

“Is father mad?”

Feyre shakes her head. “I told you, we’ve been sick with worry, Nyx.” She steps forward more deliberately, extends her hands out with beseeching eyes. “Let me take you home. We’ll talk after food and a bath?”

No one had prepared Feyre for the ups and downs of emotions that later childhood brings in a parent, but also for the mourning.

Nyx hesitates, but another adamant groan from his stomach seems to make up his mind. He nods and accepts her outstretched hands.

Mourning for the loss of the unshakable faith of a child in their parent.

A soft sniffle is buried in her knees as Feyre fights back the swells of sadness.

Whatever she felt for Nyx in those moments before he’d revealed his true motives for running away is turned ten fold against herself.

The disappointment in herself for failing her child, letting Nyx be cut so deeply by her own careless words.

The bath water plips and trickles along as Nyx scrubs clean the filth of days spent in the rainforest.

Old enough to demand privacy in the bath, but not too old to forgo Feyre’s offer to sit with her back to the tub and simply work her magic to channel the warm stream of water from the faucet down his back, through Nyx’s hair to wash away suds. As she had done since he was small. Keeping him warm at all times, avoiding that stark chill from water damp skin exposed to the cool air above the tub.

That simple gesture of accepting her offer nearly had Feyre bawling after they’d finished a tense, quiet meal. Just the three of them and their clinking spoons and soup bowls, fresh and steaming buttered bread wafting between them.

“Mama?”

“Yes, Nyx?”

“I’m sorry.”

Feyre shakes her head. “Don’t be. I should have never —”

“It’s okay,” her son’s voice is gentle in the manner he’s picked up from Rhys and it squeezes Feyre’s heart that much more for it. “Father explained over dinner … He told me there’s a lot I’m not old enough to understand yet and … No matter what, I need to be responsible because it’s not just about me. I’m a future leader of this court and I … I can’t run away.”

“Oh, Nyx.”

What can she say to that? That she wishes he didn’t have the burden of his family’s position and title? That she wishes he didn’t have to be so grown up already? To have a mother who can’t relate to what he’s experiencing because her childhood was so vastly different?

“This is where you two went off to,” Rhys says by way of announcing his entrance as he slips into the bathing chamber.

Feyre tips her head back just enough to see her mate’s broad frame without cutting into the view of the tub. As if they aren't the High Lord and Lady, Rhys sits down beside her on the tiled floor, pressing his warm thigh against hers as he positions his legs crisscross.

“I’m hurt you’d let me miss out on this cozy scene,” he says, kissing the side of Feyre’s head.

“Ew.”

Feyre huffs a laugh. “Nyx might have requested you didn’t join for this exact reason.”

The sharp cut of Rhys’s jaw falls open as he looks back at his son in faux offense. That sharp jawline Feyre recognizes as her son’s future, the beautiful features he has inherited.

“Greedy. Trying to keep your mother all to yourself. As if witnessing your parents love is so mortifying.”

“It is,” Nyx admonishes, but it's for the bit more than anything. “You always have to kiss and hug and it’s so gross.”

“Gross?” Rhys’s brows raise to his hairline as he sends Feyre the next shocked expression of the back and forth. “Never in my centuries have my romantic overtures been described as gross until you gave birth to my harshest critic.”

Nyx makes gagging noises at the word ‘romantic.’

Another swell of emotion chokes Feyre.

‘I love you,’ she mouths to her mate and his glittering violet eyes.

Curling his strong arm around her shoulders, Rhys squeezes back his wordless response.

Feyre continues to weave the warm water through tendrils of inky black locks, feeling the current of the water through each strand, down the knobs of Nyx’s spine and into the tub water. She hopes the water can convey everything she can’t seem to find the words to express to her son.

“The talk can wait. It’s been a long couple of days.”

“It seems you already had the talk. Busybody.” But really, Feyre is almost relieved. She doesn’t even know where to begin with Nyx, with her upbringing, with the grief over the situation —

“Our schedules were already clear due to a certain tiger on the loose,” Rhys says, smiling gamely. “Why don’t we take advantage of the time and sneak off to the theater. I hear the performers have really outdone themselves.”

“Oh! We haven’t been in ages! Really, you have time?”

“For you two?” Rhys winks. “Absolutely. Let me sweep your mother away —” Without warning, Rhys has Feyre in his arms and lifting to stand as she yelps in surprise “— and you dress?”

“Alright!” Nyx calls cheerily to their departing backs. “Can we get treats?”

“I’ll think about it.”

Feyre curls into the hollow of Rhys’s neck, settling into the hold. The touch of her mate’s skin eases some of her internal turmoil. Soothes the worst of her self-deprecating thoughts.

“This isn’t going to get any easier, is it?” Feyre whispers, once they’re out of ear shot of their son’s bathing chamber.

“With him inheriting your magic? I wouldn’t imagine so. The shapeshifting began so early, I can only imagine what else we’re in store for.”

She clicks her tongue in disagreement, but she can’t be bothered to lift her head from the warmth of him.

“I don’t mean the magic.”

“I know.” Warm cedar and fresh linens meet her as they cross the threshold into their chambers. Rhys sets her lovingly on the bed before stepping back, gripping her hands. “But the rest of it is a tale as old as time. We won’t be the first to struggle through raising a youngling and we won’t be the last. I’m only lucky enough to have the best partner to face the challenge with.”

A blush settles across her cheeks. “Stop. I’ve made such a mess of things. Chased away our poor son —”

Rhys presses his fingers against her lips to still them. “Later, darling. For now, let's dress for the theater and enjoy an evening out with our son.”

Feyre smiles softly. “Maybe you are getting wiser and not just older.”

“That’s the second remark about my age today,” Rhys growls, eyes darkening with silken promise. “Perhaps I need to remind you just what these old bones are capable of.”

“Later,” she mimics, sticking her tongue out in a flash before he can catch it.

For now, she will cherish their time as a family. No matter her faults, no matter how things may shift in their dynamics, at least she can be certain that they can make it through together.

#nyx #feysand #nyx & feyre #nyx & rhys #acotar #acotar fanfic #my writing

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faeriekit · 5 months

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Health and Hybrids (XVII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here PART TWELVE is here PART THIRTEEN is here PART FOURTEEN is here PART FIFTEEN is here PART SIXTEEN is here and we're limping into part 17...

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Two! Words! In! English!!! And a television? Hardcore!

Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Danny can raise his head now.

Only a little. It still hurts his neck for a while after. But his arms and his head both rise, now. His fingers curl, now, too.

The result is that Danny can now watch and change his own television channels. No more news! Now it’s all Food Network, all the time, baby. The result is that sometimes the doctors tending to him get distracted by various pasta dishes, but also. Danny is also distracted by various pasta dishes.

And roast chicken.

And fried potatoes. Every potato ever, actually.

…It makes eating his oatmeal a more awful ordeal.

“Aw, dyrling, na þa sæd egean,” the lady says to him, spoon at his lips. Danny weakly moves his arm towards her, but only manages to hit her elbow with the heel of his thumb. “Inne cwic tima, gise? Hiere þa læce.”

Danny is pretty sure his face is a nightmare to look at at the moment, but he still makes the world’s saddest expression at the lady, because she hasn’t blasted him or hit him or even sedated him yet, and he needs something. Anything.

He’s pretty the lady makes an equally sad look under her medical mask, but Danny is hungry and he’s tired all the time and he’s sad and he wants a cheeseburger. Or fries. Or…or anything at all!

Danny’s look gets progressively sadder, and the lady gets progressively sadder to match, and then they’re both just looking at each other so very sadly until a doctor physically has to cut between them to reach for Danny’s green-speckled blankets.

Ugh. Great. Now he’s cold too. He can’t quite muster a glare, but the doctor gets an extremely stern squint from him for their “help”.

The only response Danny gets is a half-strangled laugh. That is not the response Danny needs. He needs immediate respect and a Nasty Burger number two special.

And a new blanket.

“—Eall dæg?” the doctor asks the woman, but not Danny, and then he has to listen to everyone talking about him in a weird language without even pretending to ask for his input. It’s extremely annoying, and Danny half-considers falling asleep to avoid it. His gaze slides back to the television. He’s just as capable of ignoring everyone else as they are. He bets it sucks. He hopes it sucks.

They talk for a while, but then the lady takes the oatmeal away—and hey! Danny’s eyes widen and sting from the stretch. Uh. Maybe he didn’t think this one through. He’d still thought he’d get lunch out of this.

Um. He would like to continue to receive meals. But he’s watching her walk out with his oatmeal, which is the only human food that’s ever been given to him here, and…

Danny’s stomach cramps. It’s probably just anxiety.

He wishes he’d eaten the stupid oatmeal.

The doctor stays with him, setting the blanket into a laundry bin and checking over Danny’s body (ew) (gross) (nasty) for whatever they have to check on him, and Danny tries to go intangible at least four times during the check only to get oWOUCHOW jerks inside his core. At least one time, he flickers invisible. Not much, he thinks. Probably just an arm and the chunk of his torso.

The doctor pauses. Danny waits for things to (start to hurt) get worse.

“Mæg Ic?”’

…Danny doesn’t move. It hurts to breathe. Every time air scrapes through his nose and mouth, it burns a little more.

The doctor doesn’t move.

So they just.

Wait.

“Mæg Ic?” the doctor asks again.

They move very, very slowly. They touch him, and his—skin—and they rotate him to check underneath him. If they find something of whatever it is they’re monitoring him for, he gets wiped down with something gooey and wiped clean, and sometimes he even thinks they bandage him.

Danny wishes he had a bath. A whole, real bath. Where he could wash his own hair. And wipe off whatever this goo is.

When they’re done, the lady comes back in.

The sound of the door latching shut makes Danny flinch. Is she going to punish him? She walks to his bed. With her medical mask over her face, Danny can’t see if she’s visibly mad at him or not. She doesn’t look mad though…does she?

She stands to his good side, presumably so that Danny can see her. The oatmeal is back—it looks kind of gloopy, though, like it’s been badly reheated. The lady shows something to the doctor, who makes an irritated groan, and then they start talking to each other again. She cuts off to show him something, though—

Danny blinks. She’s showing it to Danny. He…looks down at it.

It looks like a mustard packet. It’s a black packet with yellow streaks, with writing on it with those letters Danny’s never seen before coming here, and it takes his eyes a second to focus on the package before realizing that there’s a little bee and pot on one end of the packet.

Oh. It’s honey?

Oh!

…Oh!!

Danny jerks upright, and, OW, and he definitely scares the lady and the doctor who rush to settle him but there’s honey?? Flavor??? His food can taste good again??!

He wheezes— and slaps a stinging hand onto the packet. “Pl’s?” he begs. He’d stopped begging in the old labs, no one there had listened to him—and he’d stopped begging for them to be gentle, to stop hurting him, to let him go. But for food. For food that tastes, Danny might do anything. Anything. “P’lease? Ple’se? Pleese?”

“Pleece?” the woman repeats, baffled. The word doesn’t mean anything to her; she’s only repeating the sounds. But Danny can’t stop begging.

“P’lease?”

“Pleece? Pleace?”

“Please?!”

“Awrite þis,” the woman mutters, and the doctor leaves. “Bist wel. Eom hebbjan eower wist. Es wel.”

And that still means nothing to him, but the lady gently lifts him up until his back can lay on the pillows, and he can sit more than lay. Danny watches in raspy silence as she rips the packet open and dumps the contents into the oatmeal. She stirs with gloved hands, ensuring that the packet is equally distributed. And then there’s a glob on her spoon, and the spoon to his lips.

Danny takes a bite. Tears well.

“Shhh,” the woman coaxes. “Wanian ma?”

Ma sounds kind of like more. Danny opens his mouth, and is rewarded with another spoonful.

He doesn’t start crying in earnest until the bowl is gone. But that’s alright. The lady finds tissues, somewhere, and he gets to look into her human-blue eyes as she carefully dries over and around his still-soft, green-edged wounds.

It’s a very nice gesture.

Danny sobs a little harder.

#Diana: kids like sweets right? Honey? We have honey packets in the caf for the tea drinkers #Closest Doctor: I don't know if it would be too hard for him to digest at this stage—#Diana: look at him. Look at my sad child #Danny: *having several simultaneous crises*#Closest Doctor: ...Okay. I will say. That's pretty bad. Yeah he can probably digest like a teaspoon of honey; lemme go add that to his char #health and hybrids #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #tw gore #tw medical #tw body horror #dcu crossover #Lemme ✨sprinkle in✨newfound food insecurity trauma

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himeryu · 11 months

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Novels 02 (Kamisato Ayato x Reader)

CH NOTES: arranged marriage, emotional cheating, neglect, unhealthy relationship, sad ending, hurt no comfort, heavy angst, slight ooc

PAIRING: Ayato x GN!Reader (Fem terms might be used accidentally)

SUMMARY: Ayato x Fiance! Reader but you’re a hopeless romantic to your fiance who is in love with another.

A/N: inspired by Movies by Conan Gray

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I. “Why do you keep avoiding Yuki?” Ayato says with contempt, making you flinch at the tone of his voice. Kamisato Ayato is angry, all because of her. Your heart drops at the thought, yet you can’t help but feel a surge of negative emotions. Recently there have been rumors circulating about Kamisato Ayato and Kaedahara Yuki: rumors of Infidelity.

You heard of the rumors accidentally during a social party. Before the mask came crashing down, Kamisato Ayato would clarify every rumor regarding the commission. However, despite hearing the distasteful rumor in-person, he stayed still, deciding to stay ignorant.

You stood still as you stared at him in disbelief. Thoughts of questions about his purpose and why he is feigning ignorance circulate in your head. You felt ill, those rumors would damage his and your reputation, something that you both hold dear. But, he stood still, almost like he was enjoying the rumors.

Why? why? WHY?

That was until everything came into place. You snapped your head away from his figure, painfully smiling to yourself as you finally understood why he was feigning ignorance. The gossipers would continue till Lady Kaedahara Yuki would personally tell them that it isn’t true. Curiously, you glanced at the commissioner, and oh how you would regret doing that.

His smile was forced, and his gaze held a bit of disappointment. You stare at him in disbelief, your heart shattering even more. God, Kamisato Ayato broke your heart once more, what did you do to deserve this?

But, you can’t help but laugh at the irony.

You and Kamisato Ayato have one thing in common: you both enjoy your delusions of being loved by the person you wish they hold you dear.

Kamisato Ayato’s love for Kaedahara Yuki is unrequited.

“[Name], I asked you a question,” says Ayato, snapping you back to reality.

“Ah. I’m sorry, I was just lost in thought,” you continue, putting on a small smile to hide your thoughts, “What did you say?”

“Why do you keep avoiding Yuki?”

God, he says her name with so much endearment it’s making you want to cry.

“Oh? I have never avoided Lady Yuki,” you reply with a smile.

It’s a lie, of course. You have been avoiding the former Kaedahara heir ever since her return to Inazuma. Though, it isn’t exactly avoiding, it is more like not meeting her unless needed. Furthermore, you and Kaedahara Yuki have not been acquainted before, so there was no reason to greet her.

However, the truth is, you can’t face her— your fiance's one-sided crush. She’s beautiful, charismatic and a person blessed by God, everything that you are not.

You fear that one day, jealousy would taint your mind and only her highness, the shogun, would know what you would do. After all, jealousy is a deadly disease that taints both the mind and heart, a disease that could only be cured by love. But, you don’t have that luxury, do you?

Ayato sighs with frustration as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Whatever you say,” he dismisses your defense, “Don’t make her feel bad ever again.”

And so, he leaves, leaving you once more once again.

II. As a child, you have always dreamed of a grand wedding. You, standing side by side with your lover as they look at you with a loving expression as you swear your love in front of all your friends and family; And the wedding garment of your dreams adorning your body, making you radiate like you bathed in fairy dust.

The grand wedding of your dreams should be the day you would only feel happiness, and nothing else.

So, you await for the day that someone would give you the wedding of your dreams, someone who would give you the world just because you asked for it. And the day you met your fiance, you believed that he would be the one to do so.

Yet impressions are different from their true human nature. The impressions you perceive from people are nothing but ideas you created in your head to fill in the lack of information you have regarding that person. The impressions you formed would then form a mask that would cunningly cover your judgment towards that person, staying ignorant to his ‘true’ nature.

Kamisato Ayato’s ‘mask’ was never there, your perception of people was just too naive and immature to handle a cunning man like the commissioner; it could not perceive Kamisato Ayato’s ‘true’ nature. But, who are you to blame? That man is cunning like a snake, crawling onto your skin as it makes you succumb to naivety. Therefore, you got yourself fooled and your hopes went up all because of your naivety and ignorance; Your impression on that man ruined your life.

Your dream wedding shattered in an instance, and your dreams for a happy future disappeared. Life has never been a rosy path with Archons smiling down at you as you obtain your happiness– so your experience is only natural, right?

‘This is reality,’ you would say to yourself, trying to cope with your indescribable distress, ‘Life should be nothing like the novels I’ve read.’

Your love for reading starts to dissipate, replaced with a sense of hatred. You hate reading, it was the reason why you were so naive, so caught up with the illusions that you ruined your perception towards people.

You can’t do this anymore, you can’t star in a play you didn’t want to be in.

You have to leave, you need to.

You would rather die than spend the rest of your life chained towards someone who sees you as a nuisance in his unrequited love.

But, How?

How can you, a sheltered child who only knows how to drown themselves in fantasies, run away from your family, friends…

Ayato?

You pitifully laugh at yourself, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

You’re pathetic.

You need to change.

III. “I’m worried about Master [Surname],” Ayaka confesses with her head down. Ever since the Irodori festival, she has seen less and less of her future in-law which makes her worried. Kamisato Ayaka adores you, much to her brother’s surprise. The two would usually converse over tea about the latest release from Yae’s Publishing House, laughing and joking around about how the latest chapter was out of your expectations.

Kaedahara Yuki listens to the younger Kamisato intently. Truth be told, she is curious about Kamisato Ayato’s, her childhood friend, Fiance, after all, she has never conversed with the aristocrat. Furthermore, you would be wed into a family that she considers her own, so who could blame her? Though, she has heard of you from a distance: the high-ranking aristocrat from the prestigious [Surname] family who is known to be collected and benevolent, delicate like a flower on top of a lake.

Every time she asks Kamisato Ayato about his fiance, he would brush it off and discuss their childhood memories, dismissing her curiosity. She would press Kamisato Ayato for details about his fiance, even begging him to introduce her to her. But as usual, Kamisato Ayato would dismiss her attempts, making her feel down.

But, if the oldest Kamisato can’t give her any information, shouldn't she ask from the youngest?

“I haven’t seen Master [Surname] since the Irodori Festival and it is making me worried,” Ayaka sighs, her expression down.

“Have you tried contacting them?”

“I did try to request an audience with them, but the servants said that they wish to be alone,” Ayaka pouts. “Have you ever seen them, Lady Yuki?”

Kaedahara Yuki blushes in embarrassment, “Oh Ayaka. Please don’t use ‘Lady’ to me anymore. I am no longer part of nobility.”

Ayaka giggles.

And so, Kamisato Ayaka stops talking about you.

Kaedahara Yuki isn’t cunning, so she does not press the youngest Kamisato anymore answers despite her curiosity; Though, if it was Ayato, she would continue to demand answers till her throat sores.

However, if an opportunity ever occurs where she could meet you, she would grasp that opportunity immediately, paying no mind to the effects it has on others.

IV. “Aren’t you Master [Surname]?” ask Kaedahara Kazuha as you nervously avoid his gaze.

Oh fuck.

You messed up.

For the first time, you decided to take a stroll on the streets of Inazuma late at night alone. You know this is a stupid decision, especially for someone as high as yourself. However, you needed a breather, and your family estate started to feel suffocating, so your only plan is to take a stroll alone. You knew your parents wouldn’t allow you to walk around the streets of Inazuma at night, especially without an escort, so sneaking out was only the option.

So, you hatched your plan. Though it was your first time sneaking out, you’ve read countless novels of the heroine running away to enjoy themselves in festivals. Hence, you have an idea of how to sneak out.

It was 10:30 PM, nearing midnight. You disguise yourself using old clothes you stole from your servant, stripping all your jewelry in your possession, and only keeping a few silver coins. Sneakily, you slid past your servants and guards, climbing out of your estate’s wall. It took you a few tries due to your lack of physical strength; however, after some attempts, you succeeded. You quickly run away from your estate; The cool night breeze brushes your face as the song of the trees accompanies you on your journey. You smile to yourself-- for the first time in your life-- you felt free.

However, your adrenaline rush was caught short as you spotted a man with silver hair in the distance.

You tried your best to avoid him, but the man has the wind by his side. And so, here you are.

You awkwardly laugh, “Kaedahara Kazuha, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

Kaedahara Kazuha stays quiet; his eyes are wide in shock as he notices your tattered clothing and unkempt appearance. You are a person of high regard, never in your life have you worn poor-quality garments and presented yourself unsightly. Even as a young child, Kaedahara Kazuha could only observe you from a distance due to the immense status gap, despite being a former aristocrat. Therefore, he can’t help but be shocked at your appearance.

...

'Ah. I am doomed.' You thought. Today is your first time sneaking out of your estate, and you got caught. Sweat rolls down your cheek as you wait for the younger Kaedahara to reply. Numerous thoughts fill your mind as you wait, countless of which was fueled by anxiety.

'What if he tells on me?' 'If he ever tells this to Ayato, would I be disposed of for being improper?' 'If my family finds out, I would never be allowed to step foot outside of my family estate.'

Your expression darkens as you fall into despair, realizing the gravity of the situation. For the first time, you felt free, no longer trapped in a well-decorated cage like an ornament for display. However, you got caught.

Suddenly, Kaedahara Kazuha speaks.

"Don't worry," he says as you slowly look up at him, "I won't tell anyone." Your mouth was slightly ajar, confused. "Huh?" You mutter.

Kazuha smiles, "Everyone has their reasons for running away."

"But I'm not running away," you refute. Kazuha looks at you confused, "Huh?"

"I'm just here for a stroll," you state.

"Ah." Kazuha rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed, "I apologize for the assumption."

"It's alright," you smile.

An awkward silence fills the air as you two refrain from talking. Truth be told, this is Kaedahara Kazuha's first time conversing with you; moreover, he is not one to chat with children from other aristocratic families-- that was his sister's job. Due to this, he does not know what to say.

Regardless, this does not stop him from worrying. Why? Probably because you are his former superior's fiance? Who knows. Furthermore, Kazuha knows better than to leave you alone at night. Though you are wearing old and poor-quality clothes, your aura screams "rich noble", which can make you a target for petty thieves.

So, Kaedahara Kazuha makes a decision.

"I won't tell anyone," He repeats. "However, please allow me to accompany you, master [Name]."

a/n: crazy how this took me like a year to update lol sorry

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