#Soft Parenting

[hisbucky]

Bobby: I am your father. You will listen to me, and my word is final, understand? Buck, on his phone: Yeah, sure thing, pops. Anyways, Eddie's asking if he could bring me out for dinner this weekend. We don't have anything planned, right? Bobby: Well, maybe — Buck: Cool! Thanks, pops! Love you! Bobby, instantly deflating: Love you too... Athena, patting his shoulder: It was a good effort.

[brucedefender4eva]

Dick, bouncing into the cave happily, his arms outstretched for a hug: B!

Bruce, incredibly overstimulated from a long day of Gala’s, tea parties, and other social events: No *actively shrinking into himself*

Dick, stepping back but still smiling: No good today? Thats alright, can I sit by you?

Bruce, avoiding his son’s eyes and trying his best to unclench his hand: *nods*

Dick hums softly and sits on the floor by Bruce’s chair: Thanks Dad… can I keep talking?

Bruce twitches and thinks it over, before shaking his head: No

Dick, nods and pulls out his phone, content on being silent his with his Dad

[b4rty-r0s13r-w1ll-fck-y0ur-m0m]

At age two, Regulus sneezed and Walburga wiped his face until it was red and he was crying, furious that he had "embarrassed her".

At age nine, Regulus fell over at a function and Sirius pulled him up, hissing to hurry before their parents saw.

At age seventeen, Regulus had a cold and James stayed with him all day, giving him medicine and cuddling with him to keep him warm.

[wheretheresawyll]

We DO NOT talk enough about Ulder Ravengard's diary. Like, the fact that Ulder took Wyll for walks, that Wyll asked questions about everything and Ulder took the time to try and answer. That Ulder had to fish his son out of the water because he was trying to see mermaids. That Ulder notes how Wyll lost his new shoes, in that way that a parent mourns clothing or items getting ruined but the relief that your child is okay renders those things meaningless. That Ulder sat down some evening, opened his journal, and wrote about his day with Wyll. That it was important to Ulder to record how Wyll was in his arms, teary-eyed over mermaids. That the journal's description mentions how the journal is well-used, that Ulder must have revisited those pages again and again.

[marisatomay]

I love reading about the intersection of global politics and Hollywood because you find out things like how in the mid 80s, when we were very much still in the Cold War, Russia and China were like “We know that we’ve never allowed a Hollywood star to visit with the intention of introducing themselves and their starryness to us and our people because that would be an unprecedented concession of soft power to the Americans but we’re going to let Tom Cruise, age 25, do it anyway”

[arthropooda]

[aventurineswife]

Hello!! Can I request a baby fic where the reader and the characters (such as Mydei, Aventurine, Childe and etc) are teaching their baby how to walk, but the baby accidentally falls in the process, leading both the reader and the characters to comfort them?🙏🙏

“One step at a time, little one”

Tags: Mydei x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Childe x Reader, Parenting, Comfort, Fluff, Family Bond, Soft Moments, Cuddling, Emotional Growth, Healing.

Warnings: No actual babies were hurt during the making of this.

The sun was setting over the distant horizon of Amphoreus, its orange and red hues casting a warm glow over the serene courtyard of your home. Mydei, clad in his usual warrior regalia, though softened in a more domestic manner today, crouched down with a smile on his face as he extended his hands toward your baby, who was hesitantly standing on their tiny feet.

"My little one," Mydei murmured, his eyes softening as he watched the baby attempt to find their balance, "today is the day. You will stand tall, like your father."

You knelt beside him, your fingers lightly brushing against his. A quiet chuckle left your lips. "I think they just need a little more time."

Mydei's smile was gentle, but a hint of determination was in his tone. "A warrior must rise, even if the ground seems uncertain beneath their feet."

You both watched in silence as your baby took a shaky step forward, their little feet stumbling beneath them. It was the most precious thing you’d ever seen.

But just as the baby managed to take that small, brave step, they wobbled, and before you could react, they fell forward. A soft whimper broke the quiet, and your heart ached.

Mydei was instantly at your side, his strong hands reaching to scoop the little one up in his arms. You were right there too, wrapping your arms around the baby gently, murmuring soothing words.

“It’s okay, little one,” you said softly, brushing their tear-streaked cheek. “You’re going to be fine.”

Mydei let out a deep breath, his usual stoicism broken by the warmth in his voice. "In battle, there are setbacks. But you, my child, will never stay down. You will rise again."

The baby, though still a bit shaken, clung to Mydei’s chest as he held them close, and with a careful glance, he looked at you. "We must be patient... but we will always be here."

With a tender smile, you nodded, knowing this was just one step on the path to greater things—for all of you.

The lights of the penthouse were dimmed, the soft glow of the outside city illuminating the play area where you and Aventurine were spending time with your baby. Aventurine, dressed in his usual elaborate attire, had taken off his blazer, looking more relaxed than usual, though the ever-present flicker of calculation was still evident in his eyes.

"Ready to teach them how to walk?" you asked, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you held your baby, who was now attempting to stand with the help of Aventurine’s outstretched hands.

"Ah, of course. A well-timed move requires strategy and finesse," Aventurine replied with a wink, his voice dripping with playful confidence. He had a knack for turning even the simplest tasks into something of a high-stakes game.

Your baby looked at Aventurine with curiosity, their tiny hands reaching forward as they tried to mimic his actions. The baby took a shaky step, and you couldn’t help but smile, glancing at Aventurine with a look of admiration.

But just as the little one moved, they lost their footing and fell forward, landing with a soft thud on the soft play mat. A startled cry filled the air, and your heart dropped at the sight.

Before you could move, Aventurine was there, his arms a steady, careful presence as he scooped up the baby. His usual bravado softened into something more vulnerable as he gently rocked the child, his fingers tenderly brushing away the small tears.

"Easy, little one. No need for tears. It was just a misstep," Aventurine murmured, though his voice was much gentler than you had ever heard it. His usually sharp eyes softened, and he kissed the baby’s forehead, his smile warm but faintly anxious.

You moved closer, placing a hand on Aventurine’s shoulder, and he leaned against you slightly, the air between you filled with an unspoken understanding. "They'll be okay, my love," you whispered, reassuring both him and the baby.

Aventurine’s smile faltered for a moment before he looked down at the little one with an earnestness that you rarely saw. "You will learn how to walk, and when you do, you will know how to fall and rise just as I have," he said softly, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

You nodded, your fingers brushing your baby's hair. "And we'll always be here, right beside you."

The cold winds of Snezhnaya had subsided for the day, leaving the air crisp and clear as you and Childe made your way through the quiet courtyard. Childe, in his usual battle-ready attire, but with a softness in his eyes that came only when he was with his family, stood with you as the two of you watched your baby attempt to stand.

"Let’s see if the little warrior can stand on their own," Childe said with a grin, his blue eyes sparkling with pride and excitement.

Your baby gave a small giggle, the sound so pure that it made your heart swell. They reached out, looking from you to Childe, then back again, gathering their tiny courage. With a tentative wobble, they took one step—then two.

Childe leaned forward in anticipation, his fists clenched in a playful mimic of his battle stance. "Look at them go!" he said, his voice brimming with pride.

But just as your baby took that third step, their little legs gave way, and they tumbled forward, landing softly on the grass with a quiet cry.

Childe's expression immediately shifted, his usual energy melting into concern. "No, no, it’s okay, kiddo!" he exclaimed, moving swiftly to scoop them into his arms. You were already kneeling beside him, your hands brushing the baby’s cheeks as you comforted them.

"Hey, it’s alright," Childe cooed gently, pressing a kiss to their forehead. "Falling down is just part of learning, alright? You get back up, just like your old man."

You smiled softly, brushing your hand against Childe’s arm. "We’ll help them rise, every time."

Childe’s eyes softened as he cradled the baby in his arms, a rare vulnerability flickering behind his playful exterior. "You're a tough little one," he said, voice low but full of love. "And you’ve got two parents who will always be here to catch you."

The baby, now calm, looked up at both of you, their tiny hands reaching out once more. You both laughed, the warmth between you undeniable, knowing this moment was just one of many in the journey ahead.

"Let’s try again," you whispered, holding the baby steady as Childe crouched down, ready to help.

Together, you all prepared for the next step—one that would lead to many more, with love, laughter, and unwavering support.

[ijustwannabecool]

It’s Just a Word, Right?

Lewis Hamilton x wife!reader

Summary... After a chaotic doubleheader weekend, Lewis returns home ready to unwind. But when their son repeats a word from the paddock at school, it sparks a parenting clash that cuts deeper than expected.

✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩

The smell of dinner hits Lewis before he’s even stepped out of the car.

It’s been two races back-to-back; Imola and Monaco. He flew home straight from debrief, wearing the same Ferrari jacket he left the circuit in. There’s still engine grease under his nails and a faint scuff mark on his cheek from a chaotic media pen scrum.

He’s not even through the front door when Sofia barrels into his legs, arms wrapped around him, curls wild and still a little sticky with honey.

“Hi, Daddy!”

Lewis lifts her easily, pressing a kiss to her cheek as Y/N calls from the kitchen, “Wash your hands first! Dinner’s just about done!”

Leo and Mateo are already at the table, perched in their chairs with plates of rice, roasted chicken, and steamed veggies in front of them. Y/N is cutting up Sofia’s portion, still dressed in her tank and joggers, looking like home.

Everything feels right.

Until Leo opens his mouth.

“I don’t want any more fucking broccoli.”

Silence.

Y/N freezes mid-slice.

Lewis pauses, mid-hand-wash, eyes flicking to his son with disbelief. He almost laughs. Almost.

“Leo,” Y/N says, voice sharp, calm, but barely.

Leo shrugs, poking a carrot with his fork. “Uncle Toto said it when he dropped the sandwich.”

Lewis chokes on air.

Y/N’s eyes laser in on him like she’s about to start qualifying laps around his ass. “Uncle Toto said it?”

Lewis wipes his hands on a dish towel, walking toward the table slowly. “Babe, c’mon, Toto probably did say it. I’ve heard him swear in six languages.”

“I don’t care if he said it in Morse code. Our son just said it at the dinner table,” she snaps.

Lewis crouches down beside Leo, trying to keep his tone light. “Where’d you hear that, really, bud?”

Leo looks up at him, completely unbothered. “The garage. You said it when the rear jack didn’t lock.”

Y/N doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t need to.

Lewis sighs. “Okay. That one’s on me.”

“It’s always on you,” she mutters under her breath, gathering up the juice cups.

Leo starts chewing on a breadstick like it’s no big deal, but Mateo whispers, “You’re in trouble.”

Sofia nods solemnly beside him, eyes wide.

“We don’t say that word, baby,” Y/N says gently to Leo, crouching to his level. “Not at school, not at home, not anywhere. It’s not kind.”

“But Daddy says it all the time,” Leo says, frowning. “You do too when your computer crashes.”

Y/N blinks.

Lewis snorts and instantly masks it with a cough.

“Oh my God, don’t laugh,” she says, shooting him a glare. “You’re the reason he told his whole class the brake pedal was ‘fucking toast.’ Do you know how many calls I got?”

“It was toast,” Lewis defends. “I almost put the car into the wall at 305 KPH an hour because someone didn’t torque the—”

“Lewis.” Her voice is warning enough.

He stands, frustrated but biting his tongue. “It’s a word. He didn’t hit anyone. He didn’t steal anything. He just... he just repeated something I said. I’ll talk to him.”

“You’re not getting it.”

“No, babe, you’re not getting it.” His voice sharpens. “They already live in a world where everyone watches them because of me. I just want them to feel normal, not like they’re walking on eggshells every time they say something wrong.”

Y/N’s jaw tightens. “And you think letting them swear is normal?”

“I think letting them be kids is normal.”

“You want them to be kids, or you just want to feel better about the fact you barely see them two weekends a month during the season?”

It slips. She doesn’t mean for it to. But it cuts through him like a wing mirror shattering.

Lewis stiffens. Silence falls again.

Sofia stabs a carrot with her little fork. “Mummy’s mad.”

Leo nods. “Like when the blender exploded.”

Lewis just walks away, back into the hallway, jaw clenched. He doesn't slam the door. Doesn’t yell.

He just sits on the stairs for a second. Breathing.

Two minutes later, Y/N follows, guilt already rising in her throat like a lump of gravel.

“I didn’t mean that,” she says quietly, sitting beside him.

Lewis doesn’t look at her. “Maybe you did.”

She places her hand on his knee. “I get frustrated. But you’re a good dad, Lew. The best. I just want to raise them right. Not like we were.”

Lewis finally looks at her. His voice is quieter now. “I want that too.”

They sit like that for a moment. Side by side.

From the kitchen, a sudden giggle erupts.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Mateo!” Y/N yells.

Lewis sighs. “Oh, come on.”

“I will end you,” she says, already getting up.

He catches her hand before she storms off, and grins, sheepish. “Still want to kiss me later?”

She glares. “Wash your mouth out with soap first.”

-------

flashback

It was years ago.

Pre-kids. Pre-marriage. Pre-Ferrari red. Just a messy hotel room in Monaco, the scent of champagne in the air, and Lewis Hamilton flat on his back, one arm draped over his eyes.

Y/N stood by the open window, robe half-tied, eyes on the Riviera lights below.

“You ever think about kids?” she asked, barely above the hum of traffic and late-night waves.

Lewis didn’t answer right away. She turned and saw it in his face, tension. Not the kind he got before a race, but the kind that lived in the cracks of a past he never talked about much.

He lowered his arm. “Not really.”

She climbed into bed beside him, soft and slow, tracing a finger down the lion tattoo on his chest. “Why not?”

He looked at her then, eyes dark and serious. “Because I wouldn’t know how to be a dad. Not a real one.”

“You had one.”

“Exactly.”

Silence.

Then he added, quieter, “I don’t want to be the kind of father I had. Detached. Controlling. The guy who showed up to take credit but never stayed long enough to do the work.”

Y/N rested her head on his chest. “Then don’t be.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is. Love them more than you hate the way you were raised. That’s how you break it.”

He closed his eyes, breathing her in like she was the only real thing in the world. “I don’t want to mess up a kid.”

She kissed his chest. “Then maybe don’t have one with just anyone.”

Lewis huffed a laugh, eyes opening. “What, and have one with you?”

She smiled. “You’d be lucky.”

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, burying his face in her hair. “Don’t tempt me.”

---------

The house was quiet.

The kids were finally asleep. Mateo tucked in with his dinosaur nightlight, Sofia curled up with a plush lion, and Leo sprawled across his bed like he fought demons in his sleep.

Y/N padded into the ensuite bathroom, her hair pulled into a loose bun, a soft cotton robe tied around her waist. She was brushing her teeth when she felt Lewis’s presence before she saw him.

His reflection met hers in the mirror, shirtless, boxers riding low on his hips, tattoos stark in the dim bathroom lighting.

“You still mad?” he asked, voice low and rough.

She spit into the sink, rinsed her mouth, and turned. “A little.”

Lewis stepped closer, caging her in with one hand on the counter behind her. “Want me to make it up to you?”

She didn’t answer, just raised an eyebrow.

“I mean,” he murmured, lips brushing her cheek, “I could wash my mouth out with soap… or I could use it on you.”

That did it.

Y/N shoved his chest, half-laughing, half-annoyed, but he caught her wrist mid-push, twisting it gently until her back hit the bathroom counter.

Lewis leaned in, lips grazing her jaw. “You love when I’m like this.”

“You’re a menace,” she whispered, but her thighs were already squeezing together.

“I’m your menace.”

He kissed her slow at first, maddeningly so. Then his hands were on her hips, sliding her robe open, parting the fabric until it slipped from her shoulders and pooled on the tile.

Lewis sank to his knees without a word, palms dragging down her sides until they gripped behind her thighs.

“Still want to punish me?” he asked, looking up at her from under those lashes.

She smirked. “Only if you beg.”

He grinned. “Bet.”

--------

The bathroom lights are still on, casting a soft glow into the bedroom where they’ve ended up, a trail of clothes and discarded thoughts leading from one room to the next.

Y/N is sprawled across Lewis’s chest, her cheek pressed to the lion ink she’s always loved, the one she used to trace when she was just his girlfriend sneaking into hotel rooms under fake names.

His fingers draw slow circles on her back, steady and grounding.

“Still mad at me?” he asks, voice low and rough with the edges of sleep.

Y/N hums. “Not really. You were right… kind of.”

“Kind of?” he repeats, smiling.

“You’re a good dad, Lew.”

He doesn’t respond right away. He just holds her tighter, like if he doesn’t, she might vanish. Then he speaks, quiet and real.

“I always thought I’d mess this up,” he says. “I used to tell myself I didn’t want a family because I couldn’t handle it. Because the paddock was my whole life, and anything outside of it felt… far.”

Y/N lifts her head to look at him, eyes soft. “And now?”

He gazes at her. “Now it feels like the rest of my life is the time between coming home to you.”

Something about the way he says it makes her chest ache.

Lewis continues, almost like he needs to get it out. “I don’t know what I’m doing half the time. I still panic when they cry too hard. I still think I’ll say the wrong thing. But I love them. God, I love them.”

“They know,” she says. “Every time you hug them, every time you show up, even when you’re exhausted. They know.”

Lewis swallows hard. “Sometimes I think about that night in Monaco. You remember?”

“The one with the robe and the champagne?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “I said I’d never be a dad. Said I’d ruin a kid.”

Y/N brushes her fingers along his cheek. “And now you’ve got three who think the sun rises because you told it to.”

His laugh is quiet. A little broken. Full of disbelief.

She kisses him gently, murmuring against his lips, “You didn’t ruin anything, Lew. You built this. You built us.”

They lie in silence for a while, nothing but the hum of the house and the softness between them.

Then he whispers, “You’re still a bitch, though.”

Y/N laughs, swats at his chest, and lets herself fall back into him with a sigh. “Yeah, well. You married one.”

“And I’d do it again tomorrow.”

--------

The end.

[not-quite-so-intrepid-hero]

fabian is such a sweetie and he will not convince me otherwise. genuinely there’s no reason for him to make up with gertie bc the rest of them have enough good standing with her to work with her, he fully did that for kristen. the way he approached it too, wasn’t like “oh im gonna get her off my back so we can deal with the honey thing” no it was pure good soul lou wilson shining through fabian going “hey if there’s even a BUMP on this road to love for my friend because of me? i’m repaving the entire fucking street lets go”

[diz-eaze]

albedo and his alternative to baby trap you :(

; soft yandere, parent trap 2.0 but is it really babytrap if you lowkey told him you wouldn't mind a child (yes it still is), low-key delusional albedo, not proofread, throwback to fontaine's quest and albedo teaser #og,

the concept of breathing life into what was once an illustration is ludicrous. blasphemous, even. if the original hydro archon was punished for turning her familiars into a new race of humans, then is it not fair for an alchemist to be smithed down for a similar sin?

but the silence of the heavens has been going on for numerous centuries; it's hard for albedo to feel even a smidgen of fear, nevermind finding a speck of regret.

being born with special capabilities is rare. training under a great sinner of khaenri'ah is even rarer - it leaves him with skills that far surpasses even the average vision bearer. it grants him the power to tamper and play with the very notion of life itself.

a memory plays at the back of his mind as he settles down his painting materials, for once away from the frigid winters of dragonspine in favor of the fresh breeze found in windrise.

"the traveler told me of what happened in fontaine," albedo begins, gently taking the test tube you pass onto him. "of what became of their prophecy."

"oh?" you muse, now idly playing with the microscope lenses. "pray tell."

albedo settles his canvas down on the stable easel stand, taking out his paints and brushes in preparation. the ever-present wind blows through his messy hair, and he welcomes it.

"it would seem that fontainians were originally oceanids, only transformed into humans by the previous hydro archon." his eyes are trained upon the drops of sweet flower extract falling into the narrow test tube. "the prophecy was punishment for their sin."

"huh," you breathe out, placing down the lenses to look at him. he fights the urge to look away from his materials. "i can't tell if the arrogant one in this situation is the hydro archon or the heavenly principles themselves."

he swatches out each paint on his person, and he lines up the needed brushes for this personal project of his. the first brush, a round brush, is used to prime the canvas.

albedo finishes extracting the sweet flower and takes out a damp cloth to wipe his table's surface with. "why so?"

"think about it," you saunter up to him, leaning in unbearably close to survey his work. in this proximity, he can smell traces of cecilia flowers and windwheel asters on you. his grip on the damp cloth tightens subtly.

"the heavens think of themselves to be the absolute rulers of this world," you puff your cheeks out childishly. "yet they are more akin to tyrants. celestial nails, sins, punishments, the cataclysm... a creation of life is much tamer compared to the heinous acts they've committed!"

albedo mixes and matches his paints - a tint of red, a dollop of brown, tiny amounts yellow, and white added in moderation - in order to emulate the shade closest to your skin tone. his second brush, a flat brush, is used to lay down the overall shape of what he envisions.

"you think so?" he questions, relocating the test tube on its designated rack. he makes no move to inch away from you - not that he wants to, never. "but 'humans' who are not born from breeding are considered to be an anomaly. they are considered an outlier, are they not?"

not that he cares, may it be sinful or otherwise. he merely tells this to get a feel of you, to take a dive into your mind.

"i care little of how a human is produced," you huff out, leaning even more to disrupt his orderly workflow. he wonders how you'd react if he told you he wouldn't care should you trash his camp, so long as you continue to be shoulder to shoulder with him like this. "if it's sentient, it has life. i think all life should be valued, regardless of the creation method. the creations themselves didn't ask to be brought to this world, either."

his deft fingers scrapes paints together to match his hair next. only little tufts of hair for now. the brush dips into the water to be rid of its previous color, reborn anew into a clean slate. he pats it down with a spare cloth and goes back to painting once again.

"you're not wrong," albedo comments, eyes trailing after the flutter of your lashes. the body heat that emanates from you causes his synthetic one to gradually warm up, too.

he hesitates, then. licking his lips as if to buy time before he voices out the question stuck in his throat. you must have noticed his pause, for you peer at him in silent questioning. you nudge him slightly, and his body sways from the motion.

there is little he fears in this world. not when he was raised in the aftermath of the cataclysm, horrors unknown to normal people are found there. but the thought of your opinion of him souring slightly has his heart palpating in dread.

albedo leans closer to the canvas, intent on detailing the cherubic face as much as possible. focused on creating the perfect specimen that earns your adoration.

a beat passes.

"then," he looks down at his workspace, unable to find the strength to look you straight in the eyes. "what do you think of creating life artificially, from the likeness of your image?"

you blink once and tilt your head, though he does not see it. you crowd closer to him, now nearly chest to chest. if you inch even closer, he fears you'll fear the loud thumps resounding deep within his chest.

"a life... with my likeness?" you parrot back, still not comprehending him fully. then, your eyes widen, as if struck with realization. "oh! you mean your magical drawings, right? i still remember that vishap you created! i am dismayed at the poor thing's lower half, however."

his masterpiece is almost finished. sunset is near, and the wind is starting to pick up. it feels as if barbatos himself is advising albedo to stop with his actions. but not even the divine nail from celestia would tear him apart from this painting.

his mind was lingering more on the alchemical method. though, if this is the method that you prefer, then it will be what he goes through with.

"perhaps," still, he nods, "so, what do you think of it?"

you smile, a gleaming, precious one that surpasses crystalflies. "since it's a hypothetical, i suppose the idea would be cute."

the verbal 'hypothetical' is blocked out from his illusioned mind, for he locks onto your explicit agreement, even going as far as to call his idea cute.

he smiles, clearly pleased with your answer.

"i am glad to see you so enthusiastic about this," he parts away from you and begins to tidy up his workspace with renewed vigor, moving with a sense of purpose.

you confusedly look at his back, "about what?"

but you're met with no reply.

albedo finishes his painting with the last brushstroke being an eyelash of the infant. he steps back to observe for any errors made, but he finds none. excitement courses through his body, eager to bring life to this illustration. his mind is already running amok with all the domesticity he will soon witness you do.

his gloves hands reach into the canvas, surpassing the physical barrier as he reaches for the finished painting. it's similar to reaching into a void, but he knows how to navigate this power of his. when he tugs his hands back into reality, he is not empty handed.

in his hands is a crying infant, not just any infant, but his baby with you. within a few seconds after giving it life, the infant opens its mouth and wails.

he kisses the top of its head, endeared at the sight of pale blond strands.

"shhh, your father is here now."

he understands the original hydro archon now. even he would endanger the lives of others for the creation of life.

[bayetea]

I hate the "as a girl whose grandmother was a slave, can I just say not cool?" line from hazel in moa it's the worst line of dialogue rick has written in his life. But like what the fuck. what kind of insane lore drop is that. hazel's grandmother was an enslaved woman. marie levesque cast a spell to meet the god of riches so that she could finally know what it was like to live beyond the indigence and suffering of her mother. marie wanted to be a queen, not a slave like her predecessors. she wanted pluto to give her all the riches beneath the earth

and then the earth enslaved her body. gaea possessed her and through gaea's influence marie forced hazel for six months to overexert herself to the point of collapsing to raise and reanimate alcyoneus. gaea worked hazel like a slave

it's so explicit here. this is SLAVERY. gaea was using hazel's forced labor for material wealth and power. she was only 13. her grandmother was used and her mother was used and hazel herself was used, they were black women exploited for what their bodies could provide in service to the hideous intentions of monsters in power over them. hazel broke free from the cycle and saved the world all by herself by choosing death - it was the only way out

and even in her second chance at life she's actively fighting to die again. she's an instrument of the gods being used to achieve an end that is supposed to kill her. she was convinced that freeing thanatos would result in him taking her life. she didn't know throughout hoo if her father would kill her when the main quest succeeded. even nico didn't think hazel was going to live. she didn't WANT to die a second time. but she fought for the world and for her friends anyway

by the end of marie's life she was only skin and bones. gaea used her body until she didn't need it anymore. marie was the daughter of an enslaved woman who dreamed of being a queen and instead the earth goddess robbed of her life and dignity. and her soul would have been tortured further in the fields of punishment if not for hazel's unfathomable selflessness and bravery to negotiate for mutual asphodel. hazel never even saw marie again after that. what was it that doomed the levesque family? that marie asked the god of death and riches for too much? she deserved even more than what she asked for. I'm fucking sick no one talk to me

[thecloudsaremyhome]

♡Pink pony club♡

Thinking about a yandere platonic neglectful batfam with a bimbo reader, it goes like this your mother a famous model had a one night stand with Bruce Wayne then came you. Beautifully cute you. Your mother admits she sheltered you but for a good reason! Your just to prescious! And you lack a moral compass. So you can be very very naive but in a good way of course! She still loves you! But a it goes your mother dies and your of course stuck with the batfam who couldn't give a shut about you but of course you dint realize this! You not necessarily vying for their attention it's just you understand. You to understanding and to trusting to everyone around you. But rather than Damian bullying you he avoids you like a red flag. Something about how air headed you could be sets him off and he realizes you aren worth his time. But when hughschikk starts you've started to develop your own asthetic and personality which of course consists of more childish things like my Melody plushies and more bright pastel colors for clothing. But it never bothered you, actually people at school seem to like it, to like you! And it makes you feel giddy inside. For once you feel loved in this lonely manor and you couldn't be any happier! But of course all good things come to an end when your invited to a party when this guy, you don't know his name starts to make you very unclmftable, grabbing youa if your a toy to fondle but luckily Tim and his friends were at so of course time sees this an goes big brother mode and punche the guy. He takes your wrist an leads you out of the house, clearly pissed you both sit in silence until Alfred finally picks you both up. After that night things seem to go back to normal at least in your perspective. You haven't seen or heard of the guy since which is lucky for you. But unknowingly the family is finally starting to see your worth and they'd do anything to protect your prescious innocence even if it means killing people in the process. Fuck the moral code, not when you are more important

Authors note: I hope you all like this little concept of mine If this gets a lot of attention I'll turn it into a series!

[meathunt]

Vampire dads idea :>

TW Yandere, forced transformation, in a way, kinda parental neglect?, light kidnapping ------------------.* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.------------------ You open your eyes.

Everything is too much, the sounds, the smells, the lights. It feels like it's attacking every nerve in your being. You try to drown your discomfort by holding the ends of your soft sweater harder, is not really working, but at least it distracts you from that hollowness in your chest.

You close your eyes, leaning on the wall of the alleyway you are currently hiding in, letting the cold air of the night bring you some comfort.

It was the first time you were out of your apartment in a month, still being able to remember the night your life went to shit.

You were just finished the shift that you traded with a coworker, making decent money as a waiter in an upscale restaurant. And you were happy to go back to your apartment and proceed to past out on your bed.

That's when the sensation of being watched started. But you were in an active part of town, so you decided to just speed up your pace to get home and don’t really worry about it. After all, who would try to attack you with so many people around?

You felt confident on that decision, until someone grabbed your arm, and trying to look at the one doing it was the last thing you remember for a while. Next thing you knew you were sitting at a bar, in front of a drink that smelled way more flammable than drinkable.

You were just about to get up when a smooth voice captured your total attention. "Hey sweets, finish your drink, weren't you thirsty?" for some reason you couldn't really focus on the strangers face. But their eyes, those deep wine eyes stayed with you.

Swallowing, you thought your throat was very dry, and next thing you knew, you were downing a drink once, twice, until you lost count of how many glasses you had. When you next regained awareness you were in your bed, and everything was spinning.

"I think you are nice and ready for me Sweets?" The nice voice was with you, and something cold was sneaking around your chest, and it grabbed at the collar of your shirt, playing with it before tearing it open.

"A sweet lil' drink, just for me, how lucky" and with that, you felt your neck being stabbed twice, two sharp things buried themselves on you, and an explosion of pain assaulted your senses, your mouth locked in a silent scream as you could feel how your cheeks dampened by the tears and cold sweat from the pain.

A chilling coldness started to envelop you from your core, and slowly grew, overtaking every part in your body.

Weakly trying to fight the person on top of you, but being unable to do much, and the last thing you heard before being swallowed by darkness was a mocking laugh. .* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.

The next time you woke up it felt terrible, your whole body hurt, and you felt in a constant state of fever, with a killer headache to seal the deal.

Everything felt too much, the clothes on you felt like sandpaper caressing your skin, you swear you could hear the water flowing in the pipes on the walls, the sunlight coming from your window felt way too bright and hot. It was overwhelming, but worst of all there was this hollowness in your chest that was growing and threatening to swallow you whole.

Something important was missing. You knew it in your bones but you couldn't determinate what. And that sensation was all consuming. Small sobs escaped from your dry throat and a broken kind of chirp came from your chest.

Just once.

And there was no answer.

That fact destroyed your declining mental state. Suddenly those strange sounds were cutting between your wails growing more desperate by the second.

The weird animal instinct inside you grew desperate for an answer that never came, you weren't sure how long you stayed there crying your eyes out until you tired yourself out enough to fall asleep. .* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.

The next few weeks were nothing short from hell on earth.

Soon you felt hungry, and trying to stand up was a task of its own, you felt like you lost control of your motor skills, at the point that it felt like you were re-learning how to walk.

When you finally reached the kitchen, the humming of the refrigerator grating on your ears, and the smell of food both overwhelming and alluring to you. Almost in animal desperation you ate the left overs you had with gusto. When you felt satiated enough your eyes started to feel heavy.

That broken chirp coming back against your wishes, and a new wave of sadness enveloped you. A constant "scared, scared, alone" in the back of your mind. Dragging your tired body back to your bed while the tears threatened to fall down your cheeks. Picking a faint scent in one of the pillows in your bed, and your body launched itself to it. Bringing that stupid voice in the back of your mind to a stop. Some kind of relief washing down you, and with shaking hands you hugged the pillow closer, almost instantly falling asleep. .* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *. At some point of the week you accidentally destroyed your phone, too loud with pre-programmed alarms, it didn't survive being thrown at a wall.

It wasn't until the middle of the second week that things stopped being so overwhelming to the point of freezing you in place. Now they were just overwhelming enough to give you problems thinking, count your blessings right?

You decided to get rid of the uncomfortable clothes you were in, choosing a soft and fluffy sheep themed pajama that you usually saved for when it was really cold outside. But that cutesy white texture was the only thing in your closet that didn't make you want to crawl out of your own skin, plus it gave you some kind of comfort.

By the end of that week a thirst was starting to grow on you, but it didn't matter what you drank it wasn't satiated.

That was until the end of third week when you tried to cook something for yourself, it was a complete disaster. And you didn't finish even cooking the vegetables.

But after a crying fit you realized something smelled...... nice.

An odd thing to notice when you failed so miserably at cooking anything substantial, but trying to follow that lead you ended up in front of the block of raw meat that was finishing de-frosting on the counter. Its mere sight disgusted you, but your body was telling you to eat it, that you needed you satiate the thirst.

You resisted, even from the cloud that currently was your mind you started to think that you were starting to lose your mind to even consider doing it.

You cracked at the beginning of the fourth week, the thirst being just too much. Accompanied by pains all around your body and a realization of how sensitive your teeth and fingers started to become.

At the end of the fourth week you felt very out of it.

The scent that you found on your first week was completely gone from the pillow, a fact that every time you remember, you started to tear up about it.

Your food supply also slowly started to disappear until you had to resort to eating raw vegetables. Something that definitely was not sitting right in your stomach, if puking that morning was any sign.

That bring you to your predicament.

Looking like you were sick, your skin being flushed but looking very pale, your legs shivering from trying to stand up for a long amount of time. Red and puffy teary eyes that weren't focusing correctly on your environment. Hiding in an alleyway in your pajamas because you tried to go to the store to buy more food, but underestimated how overwhelming everything outside was.

The sights, the voices, the new smells made you feel very on edge and anxious.

Like you weren't safe.

Like you were lost.

Like you were so terribly alone.

That stupid sound bubbling inside you, while you tried to contain it. Biting your tongue and pushing it down as best you could. It's easy, you reminded yourself, just one foot in front of the other, and to go back to your apartment, food can wait till tomorrow.

While you were trying to hype yourself up, a sudden, overwhelming feeling started to cover you. As if you were being watched. Your breathing hitched and you tried to scan your surroundings to no avail. You can't hear anything out of the normal thing you were already hearing, but you are sure you felt something near you.

A sound cached your attention, but before you could even try to look for the direction it came from, someone grabbed you and pushed you against the end of the alleyway.

"Do they not teach you new-bloods any manners?"

A towering figure stands before you, broad shoulders and wavy dark blond hair, a full beard adorning an intimidating face. You can make out some scars in the hand that holds you by the collar of your shirt. Deep amber eyes pin you in place.

He has an air on him that screams danger.

The voice in your head telling you that you are completely outmatched by this man, internally screaming danger, danger, alone, scared, help-

"Hey, I'm talking to you" He says with an authoritative tone, making you snap out of your inner monologue and instinctively coil on yourself, or at least attempt to. His hand goes to your chin. Forcing your head to the side to get a better look at your neck “Really, who even is your maker-“

His eyes stay stuck looking at the fading mark that is barely visible at this point where the bite mark was made. You can feel him gaze scanning you from head to toe once more, and his grip on your collar started to soften.

He starts asking you more questions, one right after the other about things you don’t understand, too overwhelmed by everything happening, the adrenaline that was rushing through your body starting to disappear, the situation eerily similar at the one with the man that did this to you.

Your eyes filled with tears and those chirps came back full force, mixing with your whimpers and sobs.

Those sounds took the man by surprise, his eyes turning more soft and he let go of your shirt completely, and proceeds to lift you, cradling you to his chest and rubbing circles while shivers wreck your frame, your sobbing turning to all out wailing. “Hey, hey buddy it’s okay. I’m sorry if I scared you, I wasn’t expecting a kid like you being here all alone. Hell, you shouldn’t be here, period”

You feel terrified of this man, threatened even, but it has been so long since someone held you like this, your instincts fighting between the longing for security and comfort with the consuming fear of someone that you don't know getting closer to you. At the end you go almost in autopilot, nuzzling into his chest while trembling like a leaf.

He takes out his cellphone and starting to walk out of the alleyway. He calls someone, but you feel a bit out of it to really understand what was being said, just small parts, Thomas…surprise.... abandoned.... home..., drowned by the sounds of everything around you.

Yeah, you would like to go home, the sounds of the streets in the middle of the night are getting to you, and in reflex you try to hide deeper into the man's chest. A hand comes, running his fingers in your hair while he finishes his call.

"It's okay buddy, we are getting you somewhere safe" You feel tempted to trust him.

.* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.

After what feels like a blink you land on a balcony.

You feel less overwhelmed, this place is way more quiet, without overly bright lights or overwhelming sounds and smells, just the lingering scent of the man carrying you and another one that makes you squirm in place.

Now that your mind feels a bit clearer.  You don't even know the name of the guy that has been carrying you around like you weighted nothing.

"H-hey, uhm.." your voice feels scratchy from disuse. He turns to look at you, and smiles. before you can ask he answers" Elias" "What?" "My name, I'm Elias Cromwell, sorry little thing I haven't asked, what's your name?" He asks softly

You are a bit taken by surprise at being spoken so nicely from the guy that gave you quite a fright when you first encountered him. " I'm (Y/N). Can I ask, err, where are we?"

"Well kiddo, we are at my house. And you" He boops your nose "Are about to meet someone very special"

Elias slides the glass door to enter the house and instinctually you straighten up, the second scent that doesn't belong to Elias feels even more oppressive. You cling harder to him, almost clawing at his back, looking up at him in fear.

“Well, who is this cutie Elias?” A warm voice speaks from behind you, and you feel someone going to pick you up from Elias arms. You instantly start squirming in place, those annoying broken chirps start once again, you are scared, you just found someone to hold on to, and that security is being taken away from you, the tears start forming in your eyes, you hold on to Elias’s shirt while trying to bury your face into the crook of his neck “Woah! Hey buddy”. The tears start to prickle your eyes, for some reason you are way more emotionally sensitive than usual, and that little scare is almost enough to throw you into a crying fit. “Everything is okay kiddo, it’s just a friend, remember?”. After a bit of silence without an answer you hear the other person sigh and start walking away. You almost feel relieved until Elias starts to follow them. After a minute of walking, enough for you to, somewhat, calm down, you hear a door opening and you enter into a room, if outside felt that it wasn’t very bright, in here is way dimmer, just one light that give out a warm soft glow to the room, but not enough to really see well your surroundings. Elias sits on the center of the room and you feel the presence of his friend getting near you, a cold hand starts to softly scratch at your head, making you try to bury yourself deeper into Elias arms “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to scare you. Could you let me get a look at you?” The second voice asks.

You shake your head no, but feel how Elias starts to lower you down, you chirp again in a panic trying to hold on again, but before you can even try, a cold hand grabs yours while you are being sat on the soft floor. “There, there” Thomas hand comes up your cheek cleaning your tears as they fall. “There is nothing to be afraid of honey” He lets go of your hands and bring his hand to cradle your face, making you look up at him, he is smaller than Elias, slimmer too, long strawberry blonde hair framing an elegant face, a fanged smile directed at you, his eyes feel like they are swallowing you up, that bright vivid red almost shinning in the dim room, it makes the instincts in you try to get away, but his gentle hold turns a bit more forceful, holding you in place. “I know you are feeling fussy baby, but you need to start behaving, I won’t have any of my children behaving like brats” That gets you to freeze for a second, what does that mean? His child? But you are an adult! “Really, you should be grateful” He continues, not really carrying about the look of fear that crosses your eyes. “It’s obvious the vampire that was taking care of you, was doing a poor job at it. Just look at you! Almost just skin and bones” You did feel like you lost some weight, a bit expected seeing how your diet ended up the last weeks. “But everything is okay now” Elias says behind you, and pushes you a bit so you end up in Thomas lap. “You are home after all” Thomas says while hugging you.

You want to fight, you really do, but you are so tired, you have already been having a bad time on your own, and all the emotions from tonight are getting to you. The small voice in your head relishes in the fact that you are not alone anymore, even if you don’t know the people that are holding you so sweetly, but that can be a problem for the future you. The present you can feel their eyes start to become heavy and with a hand guiding your head to the crook of Thomas neck you decide that maybe a nap can take priority in this situation. Completely unaware of the smiles adorning the faces of the two vampires holding you, having at last found the perfect little addition for their small family.

------------------.* ✶  ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ✶ *.------------------

[jadastarkey]

free now

silverhair!teen!biliie x gf!teen!reader

warnings: swearing, homophobia, making out, use of y/n, the f slur, abuse

genre: angst, fluff

sypnosis: your strict, homophobic mom catch fem!teen!reader and silverhair!billie together

please dont read this if you're not comfortable with anything in the warnings or anything.

~°•☆•°~

you were laying on top of billie, your cheek on her chest and hands in her hair, silky silver locks weaving through your fingers. her right hand was on your jaw, left under your shirt on your ribs while her mouth moved against yours.

you shuddered when she bit down your lip. you pulled away for air and looked up at her.

"bills, I ever tell y' how pretty you are?"

"all the time mamas" she replied, pulling you further up her body, holding you close so she could nuzzle into your neck, breathing in the scent of cinnamon and cherries.

a calm silence filled aura enveloped the two of you.

it was quickly flipped around, wrung out, and beaten to death as finneas' pleading could be heard. through the wall. "no- no you don't have to go in there!" the door was slammed open by a familiar fuming face. your mother.

you scrambled off her and your throat tightened. you had a small purple hickey on your neck and you were literally in her hoodie, in her bed "u-uh mom?"

"y/n y/l/n what the fuck is going on?" She yelled. if this was a cartoon, smoke would be coming out of her ears and nose.

you were frozen, shaking. billie put her hand in your thigh but you brushed it off and stood up "i-i" you stuttered.

billie just watched. she was upset you brushed her off but she understood. she knew how your mom was. and it wasn't pretty.

"answer me, y/n." she approached. you could smell the dinner on her breath and see the anger in her eyes. "I told you your curfew was 7 and its 7:35."

"i-i didn't know.." you flinched at her tone and looked down "I lost track of time"

"yeah, because you were busy being gay. I should've known you weren't just friends, I mean look at you, cuddling her. do better, y/n. were going home right now" she snapped, grabbing your arm with a white knuckle grip and dragging you away from billie.

you let out a gasp of pain and that's when billie stoofd up and finneas stepped in. "alright that's enough" finneas started but was interrupted by your mom

"No. I don't want any of you being friends anymore. I thought I could trust you, finneas, and Billie? don't even get me started on you. I knew you were a bad influence on her, trying to become famous just to leave my daughter."

you looked up to your mom, then to billie "is that true?" you asked, now on the verge of tears, looking at billie straight in her eyes.

"no— why would I ever even do that? w— that's so fucking stupid" she said. she was confused on why you would even believe your mom.

"she's lying to you, y/n. c'mon were leaving" she said sternly glaring at billie and dragging you out. your eyes didn't leave hers though, the betrayal struck your heart down. you couldn't believe how stupid you must've looked, actually believing that she loved you.

in the car your mom was screaming at you. it was hard to focus. the traffic lights beamed at you, the wind on the outside if the car scraping against it, and your moms angry presence was overwhelming. when she pulled into the driveway your phone was blown up with messages from billie and finneas

"y/n I wasn't going to do any of that, i swear i dont know what shes on about." "please answer me." "im sorry"

"please answer billie" "Idk what your moms on about" "my sister isn't lying to you, trust me y/n"

you read them

you ignored them

"out now" your mom spat, unlocking the car door. you knew you were in for shit now that you were home. no bystanders, no curios drivers looking into loud cars, no cameras. just you, your mom and your dog.

you took a shaky breath and stepped out and into your home house.

the door slammed shut behind you and you knew it before you felt it. she grabbed your hair and turned you around to face her "who the fuck are you. I didn't raise a fucking faggot"

"I'm sorry" you whispered

"sorry won't cut it. you didn't come home on time, I come to billiies and you're on top of her. what's gotten into you" she pulled you closer. close enough to be in the water zone

your eyes stung with tears and she slapped you

"dint start crying you did this to yourself. I want you out of my house. now." she screamed "do you understand me?"

you nodded

"use your fucking words"

"Yes mom" you muttered as she let go of you, pushing you toward the door.

you didn't bother grabbing anything. you just started running out. you ran. your vision blurred and tour breath shaky. you didn't care that it took 30 minutes to get to their house, you knew the way and you were going. you tripped on your laces and sat in a pile of tears, mud and blood for a few minutes, right by her house until you felt a pair of arms wrap around you.

"I've got you, shush, I'm here baby" she whispered. you immediately knew it was her and your tears burst even harder "I shouldn't have let you leave, I'm sorry"

"n-no I—"

she cut you off "shhhh, its okay now. you're safe now" she pulled away to wipe a few of your tears but they just streamed back down.

with the help of finneas, she took you inside, up to her room and just laid with you back on top of her.

"i-it hurts, bils" you whispered.

"where? what hurts babygirl" she mumbled, cupping your face.

"everywhere" you had cuts and bruises forming on your palms and knees from the fall, makes on your arms from the pure dragging, you and the worst headache and on top of that, your cheek was stinging from the hit.

"let me.clean you up" she said.

the rest of your night was spent with her gentle touch and reassurance, finneas doing most of the medical shit and LOTS of cuddles. Maggie accepted you to live woth them with open arms.

the next day, you made a list of things you wanted from your house, which you all went to get together.

you were free now in a home that truly loved you.

[ariadnes-elixirs]

thinking of an isekaied reader and a yandere noble boy...

(gn reader x male noble yandere)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

tw: none for this part

about a week has passed since your impromptu tea party with oliver. everything about that interaction left you feeling unsettled, and him barging into your estate certainly didn't help his case.

as you think back to that conversation, you recall his words. he claimed that the two of you were lovers, but also stated that apparently no one knew. you were able to determine that original person in this body was close to their parents and that their family was tight knit, so why wouldn't they know?

"your" parents definitely would have approved of the relationship, so there is theoretically no reason for this to be a secret. unless it had to do with his parents? but that doesn't really explain why your parents wouldn't have been told...

as you continue to spiral, you hear a knock at your door. your father pokes his head in with a wide grin on his face, "oliver is here!" he said, "and he did provide notice this time! hehehe~" your father seemed to grin even wider at that, "anyways, lunch is starting soon and hes waiting~~" your father wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

"why... why wasn't i made aware of this??" you replied in shock. both at the sudden lunch plans and at your father's behavior.

"well he's a nice boy, and this is an informal gathering. him dropping in for lunch isn't unusual, he does it all the time!"

you had been in this body for around two weeks, but your father seemed to believe that this was a regular occurrence. you tried to come off as calm and composed, but the best you could do was force a wobbly smile. "oh. well. uh. i'll get ready..."

your father initially looked concerned, but then seemed to remember that you had been "struggling with your memory" (read: you know nothing, absolutely nothing, about anything)

his face shifted into one of guilt, "i'm so sorry, i forgot, kinda like you hehe, wait that's rude-," he collected himself, "yes, every two weeks oliver comes here for lunch, then the two of you usually spend time together until dark, then he leaves."

"ah, i understand," you said, trying to keep calm. you did not, in fact, understand. as you collected yourself and prepared to get ready for the sudden visit, your father quickly left to go entertain the guest.

...

oliver's eyes lit up the second he noticed you enter the room, "ah! hello!! its been so long!" his wide smile seemed to infect your parents, as they begin grinning as well.

it seems like there was some truth to what he had said, everything you had asked your parents about and what your father described lines up perfectly with what oliver said. even still, something just felt wrong, you couldn't explain it, and you felt a small wave a guilt wash over you as you looked at the genuine joy on his face from seeing you.

you tried to ignore both the guilt and your intuition, deciding to simply get through the meal and try to gather more information. after you steeled your resolve, you responded, "yes, it really has."

after that short interaction, lunch went as expected. you were easily able to confirm that the part about him being your childhood best friend was true. additionally, your parents' behavior seemed to suggest that they genuinely liked oliver, and that he liked them. you spent most of the meal observing their interactions, and whenever someone mentioned your silence you simply directed their attention to your plate of food.

after everyone finished their meals, your parents called for the staff to clean up, but not without thanking them as they entered and thanking them again as they left. your parents then retired to the living room for the afternoon.

with only two people left at the table, you finally had to confront what you had been dreading during the entire meal, but at the same time, you were also looking forward to it for some reason.

oliver meets your eyes and grins,

"how about we take a walk in the garden! the honeysuckles should be blooming this time of year~"

a/n: thank you @ersharyzst for giving me the idea for the last line! i apologize for any errors, i'm too tired to proofread this. i'll try to look over it again soon and fix any mistakes. this was mostly set up for the part, which i hope to release in a couple days!

[paper-lilypie]

sappy teens

ft. extra kissies + Hazel hairstyles that make me :]