#but he's also got the mentality of a small child who's just learning about all kinds of things.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hello, hope you are having a good day/night?

I was wondering if I could request something where Joker uses Jason Todd's DNA to create a child (male) and raises him. What would happen when Jason finds out he not only has a kid but the kid been being raised by Joker the man who tortured and killed him!

And how will Bruce react to seeing Jason's son and how much he looks like his dad?

Platonic batfam x kid reader

Headcanons

I’m still right in the middle of exam season right now, which is why I haven’t been writing much.

Like I said, you are a redheaded kid, because I love redhead Jason too much not to add it. Joker being the joker would most likely make you color your hair black though, just like Jason did when he was robin.

If Joker got Jasons DNA when he killed him, then you would be around 8, as Jason died at 15 and is 23 nowadays (I got this age from the dc twitter account), and because of Jasons genes you are most likely a small and skinny kid.

The smallness most likely also comes from the fact that Joker is the one raising you, alongside Harley if they are still together at that point.

Raising you is a very loose word, Joker does not have a parental bone in his body, and only clones you to taunt the bats. So, he is nowhere near a good parent and treats you like an extension of the Robin he killed.

This would lead to a lot of mistreatments, because it’s the Joker, what do you expect. Both mental and physical abuse would be present in your life, as the Joker wouldn’t feel any love or care for you as a person.

Because of this you wouldn’t be going to school either, but you are smart, so you teach yourself how to read and write, and you’ll have to learn math and the likes to be able to use some weapons to their full potential.

Instead of being allowed to be a child your only purpose to exist is to be a tool to taunt the bats, so you most likely wouldn’t be given a name either and would just be called Robin by Joker and anyone else who knows you exist.

Being “raised” by joker also means your morals are very skewed, and you have no problem with murder or torture, but what do you expect from someone like the joker.

The bats would learn about your existence during one of the Jokers latest plans. It would be during one of his more crazy ideas, you know, with a lot of hostages and a lot at risk.

I can imagine two scenarios. The Joker either tying you up and posing you bruised up and bloody whilst wearing the Robin outfit, to taunt Batman.

Or you are being used as a surprise attack when they get a little too close to catching the Joker. Joker of course wouldn’t care about your wellbeing besides being a tool for him, so if you get shot or break bones he doesn’t care.

They would of course all be shocked and shaken at seeing an 8-year-old kid wearing Jason’s robin outfit there, and especially with how little care you show about yourself and your own wellbeing.

Joker would whisk you away at the last moment, though not without you being hurt during the fighting, because he still has plans on using you to harm the bats, especially batman and red hood.

The batfam would panic at the knowledge that Joker has a child that hes using for his evil plans, they have no idea you are Jason’s clone yet, but they still want to rescue you.

They can only assume you’ve been trained since birth, with how skilled you are, which makes them all emotional. Especially the likes of Damian and Cass, since they were trained from infancy as well.

They would immediately start searching lost child cases for anyone fitting your description but come up empty handed because you are a clone.

After this encounter the Joker would use you in his plans more and more, because he gets great joy from seeing how desperate the batfam is to figure out who you are or to save you.

You’ve never felt kindness before and have never been your own person though, so you don’t trust them and just do whatever the Joker orders you to do, putting yourself in life and death situations more than once.

Bruce would be heartbroken with how familiar you look in your robin outfit, as you are a complete copy of how Jason looked back then. Dick and Jason, and maybe Tim, would be the only ones able to recognize your appearance, which would make them all want to save you even more.

After finally getting your blood and/or DNA to test after another deadly situation you’ve put yourself in, they take it back to the cave to test, where they learn your relation to Jason.

To say the batfam would all be shaken and enraged by the discovery would be an understatement. They’re shaken at the fact that Joker has had a child grown from Jasons DNA for who knows how long, and would be enraged at the fact that Jasons DNA was used and that you’ve obviously been abused this entire time.

They buckle down even more to get you to their side and make you come with them willingly, and it works in their favor as the Joker has become more lax with your reigns. It seems he’s growing bored of using the same thing over and over again, so he’s kinda just letting you run freely as he comes up with new plans.

It would start with Jason or Tim, or maybe even Cass, who would be able to get closer to you. They wouldn’t push to get you to come with them, and just get you to be used to their presence instead of immediately seeing them as a threat.

They know this is a slow process and that they can’t rush it, since you would run at the first sign of them trying to snatch you up.

As this is happening Jason can be caught reading parenting books, things about child psychology and the affects of child abuse. He already knew all of this, but he keeps refreshing it for when they get you to trust them.

Bruce would be going through a grieving process again, as you are a direct result of him failing Jason. But this time he would have a larger support system which would stop him from spiraling like last time.

Over time you get used to the presence of the batfam when you are on your own, they bring you meals or stuff to drink. Of course, you don’t trust it in the beginning, knowing they could be drugging you, but as time passes you start to eat with them.

At some point, Damian would end up telling you about his own childhood and how wrong it was, and that he didn’t deserve that abuse, and neither do you.

That would be what starts to make you understand that the Joker isn’t a good guardian and that you may be worth more than he says you are.

They don’t get much further though, as the Joker has gotten bored of you and the purpose you were supposed to serve, so he wants to get rid of you. He would try to recreate the day he killed Jason, with the crowbar and everything.

Bruce is the one to save you before you get blown up though, Bruce almost in a frenzy to not lose another kid that way every again. You would be bruised and battered with broken bones and a concussion, but you would be alive.

They would bring you to a doctor or healer, probably a league one for identity reasons, and the fact that they could use magic to heal you faster.

Jason wouldn’t leave you alone as you are unconscious for days, the batfam would stick close by but also be working hard on cracking down on the Joker and destroying whatever he has left of his cloning experiments.

After you wake up, a lot of time would be used introducing you to the life of a normal child, and helping you heal both mentally and physically.

Thankfully they have a lot of experienced with helping kids who were raised to be weapons, with Cass and Damian and the likes, so they know what to do for the most part.

Jason never thought he would be a dad, especially not with how young he is, but he takes to it like a duck to water. Hes always had a soft spot for kids, and maybe in the back of his mind always wanted a kid of his own, so you help him settle in a way he didn’t know he could.

They all joke about Bruce spoiling you, because you are like a mix of Cass, Damian and Jason, and that Bruce’s fatherly urges can’t be stopped. It isn’t a joke though, after you learn to have your own opinions and wants, Bruce would bend over backwards for you like he would for any of his kids.

The first time you call Jason dad, he has to choke back tears, because he never thought you’d see him as your dad or accept him. You two go out to bat burger to celebrate.

They of course make up legal papers for you as well so you can start going to school after healing mentally and physically. They wouldn’t allow you to run around at night with them for a while either, as they want you to find who you are before you decide to be a hero or not.

And whether you decide to be a vigilante or just a civilian, they support you the entire way. Even if you pick to be a hero, they’d still be overprotective since you are the youngest, much to your annoyance, but you know its cuz they love you.

They all love you, and you love them. And if you choose to be a hero and base your outfit around your dads and it makes him cry, who will catch him with the helmet on. The other heroes think you are adorable too. You have youngest child privilege in the hero world, learn to wield it.

[fandomfucker]

Judgement Day x reader Where the reader is an absolute cuddle bug, but is afraid they might be too clingy. So Judgement Day assure them that they love how cuddly they are?

Word Count: 2,053

Reader's POV

Ever since I was a child, I was extremely touchy. I always felt the need to be not only emotionally close to all my friends and family but also physically close.

I would hug each of my friends at least twice a day, along with my teachers and parents and my usually unwilling siblings.

I was able to calm down a bit by the time I got to middle school, restraining myself from hugging just my family members and my friends who were used to it by now. High fives and wrapped arms around shoulders and waists became a norm for anyone interacting with me.

In high school, I had better learned to keep my hands to myself, only occasionally hugging my friends. But, my friend group was also a bunch of pretty touchy people so sitting next to each other with our legs touching, or laying down with our head in the lap of the other while they finger-brushed our hair was a norm for us within our friend group.

I had accepted long ago that my love language was touch but that it wasn't for everyone. One potential partner in high school even broke things off because of how touchy I am. They said it was suffocating and just 'way too much'.

Touchiness has never been an issue with my four wonderful partners now, though. Rhea, Dominik, Damian, and Finn all seemed to appreciate my touches and would even go out of their way to be closer to me sometimes.

And I love and appreciate them all for it.

My partners are all very aware of my need for touch. So, on days when I get home from work, both physically and mentally exhausted, they'll center me a a big group hug until I feel better.

When I wake up in the morning, Dominik smothers me in hugs and kisses, usually ending in hours-long cuddles until we're forced to move.

Damian often has me sit in his lap, no matter where we are. A party, backstage at a WWE show, or just hanging out in the living room of our house.

Whenever I had a particularly bad day Finn would shower me with affection, figuratively and literally. He would help me take a shower, giving me small kisses on my shoulders all the while, before giving my shoulders a massage in our bedroom.

Rhea was surprisingly the most touchy out of all my partners. She constantly had to have a hand on my waist, shoulder, arm, thigh, you name it she was touching it. She's very protective and always had to make sure that not only was she giving me what I needed, but also making sure everyone else knew I was hers as well.

The doubts didn't start until about six months into our five-way relationship when I had been at home on the couch scrolling through social media while the four of them were at Monday Night RAW.

My for you page had decided to randomly show me a video of someone who had compiled a bunch of videos and pictures of me with my partners. They had all zoomed in on my partners' faces whenever I specifically was touching them and not the other way around. The person who made the video was saying "Look at how uncomfortable the Judgment Day looks. Y/n needs to stop fucking touching them and leave them alone."

The video instilled a spark of fear in me as I read all the comments agreeing with the original poster and for the next three hours I went down a rabbit hole of TikTok videos through the search from the original video; "Y/n Y/l/n being clingy".

There were at least a hundred different TikTok videos talking about it, with tons of comments throughout. I found videos so long that they had to post them on YouTube in which what they said about me was even worse because guidelines are a bit more lax.

For those three hours until my partners got home, I watched all the mean videos, read all the mean comments, saw all the mean posts, tweets, edits, etc, and sobbed as I realized that my partners probably were just doing it all because I wanted to and that they actually just hated me.

A little after midnight I heard the garage door open and Rhea's truck as they pulled into the driveway. I threw my blanket off my lap and sprinted up the stairs to our master bath. I needed to make it look like I hadn't been crying the entire time so I threw myself into the shower, making the water as hot as possible.

3rd Person POV

The four members of the Judgment Day walked through the door, into the house doing their best to stay quiet as with all the lights off they figured their partner was probably already asleep.

Hearing a noise coming from the living room, Dominik curiously made his way towards the couch, beginning to move around blankets and pillows.

Y/n's phone fell out of a blanket and bounced onto the thick carpet floor, it's face glowing up at the ceiling as a TikTok video played on a loop.

Hearing the clunk from the phone hitting the floor, Dominik tossed the blanket he was holding back onto the couch before bending down to grab the phone.

Mention of The Judgment Day along with Y/n's name made Dominik pause, focusing on the video playing. 

"I mean, just look at their body language whenever Y/n touches them. They all always just look so uncomfortable."

Dominik watched in disbelief, as he beckoned the other Judgment Day members over to him. The group has always been pretty out about their relationship and some of them about their sexualities so haters were a norm but it was beginning to cross a line by hating their partner, who wasn't in the spotlight at all.

He beckoned the other three JD members over as the video began to play from the beginning again, holding the phone out for them all to watch.

They all watched the video in concern, Damian took the phone out of Dom's hands once it was over and began to backtrack, looking at what had previously been watched before that video.

There were several more videos about this particular topic at hand which the four of them scrolled through with growing disgust.

After several minutes of this, Rhea had a thought. "Where's Y/n?" She asked the group in a small panic.

They all looked at each other in concern before Rhea bolted up the stairs, yelling their partner's name, the boys quickly following suit.

Reader's POV

I was still in the shower about ten minutes after I had heard the garage door open and my partners come in when I began to hear Rhea screaming my name as four sets of footsteps thudded up the stairs, becoming louder as they got closer to the bathroom.

Banging soon began against the door as they all reached it. I heard each of my partners distressedly shouting my name, Rhea, however, being the loudest.

I turned the water off in a rush, wrapped my towel around myself, and got out of the shower. I fumbled with the lock, unlocking it before swinging the door open in a rush. I was met with the four panicky faces of my partners.

"What's going on, is everything okay?" I asked, genuinely confused.

Rhea rushed forward, pulling me into a tight hug. My face was squished into her chest (not that I'm complaining) and was squished even further when my other three partners came around to join the group hug.

"Guys?" I asked nervously, tilting my head up and resting my chin on Rhea's collarbone so that I could see all of their faces above me.

Finn spoke aloud for the group from my left, "Love, you left your phone open downstairs. We saw what you were looking at."

The blood would have drained from my face had it not all rushed there as the tears began to fall again.

I dropped my chin off of Rhea's chest and covered my face with my hands, the top of my head now resting against her chest instead. The four of them hugged me tighter in attempted comfort which only made me feel worse.

They hated me hugging them and just generally being all over them all the time and were now hugging me to make me feel better.

"I-I'm sorry. P-please don't be m-mad," I managed to get out through the massive sobs. I began trying to push away, out of the hug barricade they'd created around me but I wasn't able to turn around very well with how tight it was, and Rhea's way too strong to move when she doesn't want to be moved.

"We're not mad, Princesa," Damian spoke gently from behind me. That just made me cry even harder.

I was crying so hard that I was struggling to breathe. My four partners kept me close and I could feel someone stroking my hair before someone gripped my hips and turned my body to face them. 

I dropped my hands from my face to my partner's waist, realizing who it was.

Looking up, my wet, red-rimmed, eyes were met with Dominik's wide brown ones. "Hey, hey." He shushed me softly. "Those videos are fake, mi amore. Okay? We all love how touchy you are. We love your hugs and kisses and all your little touches. If we didn't we wouldn't reciprocate them."

My sobs turned to sniffles at his sweet words. He gave me a small smile as he brought a hand up to my cheek, wiping away any remaining tears from my face with his thumb. 

I closed my eyes in acceptance, another tear or two slipping out at the action which Dominik was quick to swipe away. "We mean it, Cariño," Damian spoke up again, now on my right. "We love you and your cuddliness," He reassured me, his lips kept close against my hair as he gently pried me away from Dominik and tucked me into him.

"Promise?" I questioned faintly. It was directed generally towards all four of them.

I felt Rhea's hands snake around my waist, gently swaying me towards her a bit, "We promise. We love you so much and nothing and nobody will ever change that." She gave my temple a lingering kiss, squeezing my waist before turning me towards Finn.

"Don't listen to those morons on social media, love. We're just constantly uncomfortable on camera, especially around you just because we're worried about you. There's a lot of people and a lot going on and it can get overwhelming so we're a bit on edge trying to protect ya'." He explained smoothly as he brushed a few stray hairs off of my forehead and back behind my ear.

With their protective natures, this explanation did make a lot of sense. I mean, one time Rhea actually almost fought a fan at the airport because of how close he was to me despite, me telling him to get away. I guess them being my own personal bodyguards would make them a bit tense.

"Come on, as much as I hate to say it, let's get some clothes on you and put you to bed," Rhea ordered, shoving the boys out of the way to lead me back into the bathroom. I giggled at her statement, flushing bright red as she winked at me before closing the door to the bathroom, leaving me alone again as I quickly dried off and threw on some of my partners' clothes I'd stolen.

Coming out of the bathroom I saw all four of my wonderful partners seated on the edges of our giant bed, waiting for me to get into the middle for cuddles.

I grinned and got a running start, jumping full force onto the bed. Dominik made an exaggerated 'oomph' sound as I landed, causing Damian to swat the back of his head.

Laughing at my partners' antics, I crawled under the covers before opening my arms, signaling that I was ready for the puppy pile of cuddles I was about to receive.

I made my own 'oomph' sound as Dominik flopped on top of my chest, grinning wickedly as he playfully glared at me before sticking his face into my neck.

With all four of my partners now lying on top of me or next to me to some degree, I'd never felt safer or more comfortable.

Drifting off to sleep I only had one more thought.

"I love you guys."

[inkblot22]

Truss

Woohoo Malleus woohoo! I'm making the trigger list a bit bigger because I keep thinking about how people will totally skip reading it if it's too small and then blame the writer for their own mistake. That shit is clown behavior but I don't want to be held responsible for someone else's case of stupid, so sorry to those of you who think this looks clunky. Line divider found here: @/cafekitsune. This is also a fic that is wildly self-indulgent, in that I mean that while writing I visualized my own physical form and quirks.

That being said, this fic is written with afab (assigned female at birth) readers in mind. No pronouns other than you are used for the reader, but the reader does possess a womb. Reader's chest is not described in the least, just the lower bits, and even then it's not at length. Malleus also refers to the reader as "beauty," but masculine people can be beautiful too so idk but here's a warning anyways.

This fic is DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. TW for noncon, fae interaction rules used for said noncon, slight bullying if you squint, one (1) mention of blood (I'm beginning to think I have a problem.) Stay safe while reading. Possible OOC Malleus, I haven't read any of book 7 and if you spoil it I'll block you temporarily.

This is absolutely not your fault, and you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. It’s awful. Crewel was for sure his namesake, because this whole thing was a steaming pile of-

Alright, from the top, just to organize your thoughts: you are the only non-magic student in a school of mages. The teachers are mages. Your best friend/roommate/monster friend is a mage. The plants here can do magic, but you? No. Thanks homeworld. Love the gift of nothing.

Thus, the faculty have seemingly created a game of “how to piss off and challenge the magicless student,” in which they give you various tasks to just make you lose sleep. Vargas had you running laps until your legs felt like jelly, doing pushups until your shoulders started sounding like glowsticks. Trein had you learning completely off the wall trivia, such as what type of fabric the Queen of Heart’s favorite bathrobe was made of and why it made her more powerful. That’s nothing, it’s easy because you apparently have so much free time in their eyes. But Crewel? Fuck that man. 

When you got the assignment, it sounded fun and exciting. He gave you seeds for a fast-growing rose thing. Honestly you weren’t paying attention to the name of it, but you retained what you needed to know. The plant only grew in moonlight, so you needed to cover it before you went inside at night. It needed a minimum of two hours of moonlight to grow per night. If the basket was overturned and it was exposed to the sun, then the plants would die. Moderate watering, no fertilizer, the usual.

Once the plants bloomed, you were supposed to take the flowers and make some kind of glamour potion, so here you are, failing at doing so. You only had four flowers, and you’re down to the last one. You wasted three tries and you still have no idea what the hell you’re doing wrong and it’s due next alchemy class and you’re breaking curfew on top of all of it. You glare into your cauldron with your latest failed attempt and hunker down to shoulder against the side so you can dump it out and try again. 

“Oh, it’s you.”

The voice makes you jump out of your skin. You turn around and you almost want to cry tears of joy, because if anyone can help you, it’s him.

“When I saw a little head duck down, I thought that something strange was happening. A crime, perhaps.” Malleus smiles, and it’s not a kind smile, but you’ll take anything remotely positive at this point, “What are you doing on the floor, child of man?”

“Oh, I have to empty the cauldron.” You puff out, still trying to throw your weight to push the cauldron. You did it twice earlier, so this must be the effects of mental and physical fatigue.

“Oh, that’s right. Allow me.” Rather than waving a hand or anything, Malleus strolls on over and uncrosses his arms, taking one hand and pressing his fingertips against the lip of the cauldron. The whole damn thing tips, the failed mixture pouring out into the nearby drain. With the same ease, he tilts it back and turns to you.

When he looks at you, it’s… weird. You know he’s lizard-like, as dragons evidently are, but even Sebek’s eyes aren’t this jarring. They aren’t soulless or cold or unfeeling, but it feels like he is looking through you. His emotions don’t reflect in his eyes properly. That’s what it feels like. They reflect, but it’s wrong. Fractured. His lips quirk into a smile and you blink.

“Uh… wait, what are you doing out here, Tsunotaro?” You ask, turning to gather more materials, following the transcript of your recording from class.

His smile grows, “Just on a walk. Will you tell me what you’re trying to make?”

“Uh, yeah. This glamour potion? I don’t know. Remember how I was growing those flowers?”

“Of course. And what happened to the rest?”

“I… uh… I messed up the other potions. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong here.”

“No?”

“No. Do… do you think you could maybe… help me?”

“Of course.” Malleus plucks the flower up, twirling it thoughtfully, “Why don’t you gather the other ingredients?”

That was simple enough. Petals from your tediously grown blooms, some kind of floral oil with tiny white flowers inked on the label, a ball of clay no bigger than a pea, something that really resembled a severed finger, something that was hopefully just someone’s baby tooth, a handful of crystals in a rainbow of colors, and water. Lots of water. Malleus watches as you put all your ingredients on the nearby table and hums thoughtfully before dimming the lights and turning back to you.

“And where did you hear that you needed these things?” He asks. It’s not something that he says with any indication that you’re right or wrong. The tone is bland but the words say enough. 

He has essentially told you before that he believes you inept, a babe in the woods when it comes to this sort of thing, but it doesn’t stop you from looking as hurt as you feel, “The headmage visited class and gave me some pointers?”

“You personally or the entire class? I don’t personally recall concocting anything like this when I was in your grade.” He says.

You suppose you’re grateful that he’s so blunt, but his flat tone makes the sting of your failure that much sharper. You thought he’d be nicer, since you two are sort of friends, and Lilia has told you that Malleus is fond of you, but it also makes just as much sense for him to refrain from easing up in his flatness because he supposedly thinks so much of you. He thinks you’re an idiot, but he’s not willing to treat you as such.

“The whole class. And no one else in my grade is doing this.” You mutter, staring at your assortment of items on the table.

He approaches the table and plucks up the beaker of water, twisting it in his hand, “Did you distill this?”

“What?”

“Tap water often has various minerals in it. If you haven’t been using distilled water, you’ve been adding an extra ingredient. Typically, most potions are much more forgiving and you can use tap water with little issue, but this particular potion is known to be disagreeable.” He murmurs, crossing the room with your beaker of water and setting it up to distill with a practiced ease. “That’s why it’s typically saved for fourth year students’ aptitude testing.”

The revelation hit you like a ton of bricks. You’d like to protest but it unfortunately makes sense. Malleus looks over at you, somewhat blandly, then turns around to face you, looking half concerned.

You answer his question before he can ask, “I didn’t… know that. I guess it’s my fault for being from a different world…”

His lips twitch into a smile, and for a moment you can see amusement in his eyes, fractured with the underlying coldness, “Oh, it isn’t. It may be your fault for failing to ask questions, but having someone who is unused to this type of work take on an advanced project is cruel.”

“You think so?” You ask, voice lilting with hope.

“Of course I do. Why you’re expected to make a potion of this caliber is beyond me.” Malleus states blankly.

“Uh, yeah. I- I don’t know either. But thank you for helping me!”

His expression flinches. It lasts for less than a second before it smooths into an odd grin. You’re not quite sure what that means, but you’re too happy to stop and think about it. The water finishes distilling and you carefully begin crafting, using the tips Malleus occasionally mumbles towards you. Don’t put that ingredient in yet, stir clockwise, you need to grind that up with the oil, don’t rush you have time, et cetera, et cetera, and then you have a gorgeous violet mixture, glimmering with a pearlescent golden sheen.

Your jaw drops. Somehow the few ingredients you threw together is enough to fill several bottles. Malleus is making a smug face as you rush to the shelves of empty bottles and choose several fluted bottles, quickly using a ladle to deposit the final, successful potion into the bottles. You’re so giddy with your success that you hardly notice as Malleus walks towards the door and locks it. But only hardly.

“What was that for?” You ask, not actually caring. You’re too happy to be worried.

“Oh, we’ll need privacy.” He responds.

That part confuses you enough into caring. You turn around from where you’ve safely wrapped the bottles and slipped them into your bag and shoot Malleus a frown, “Privacy? For what?”

Malleus doesn’t say anything. He walks over to the table and you feel your body stand up, void of your control, and stagger over to stand in front of him. If you were concerned before, you’re frightened now. Malleus looks down at you with his strange gaze and folds his arms.

“Wh-what’s happening?! Why can’t I move?”

“You really don’t know?” He asks. Something about his tone sounds mocking, but you’re certain he doesn’t mean it to be. It’s his version of sarcasm, he’s spoken to you like this before.

Your body hops up on the table, taking a seat, and Malleus turns to stand before you, looking down at you with a soft smile. You shift your hips- what the fuck is going on- and Malleus very gently hooks his hands in the pants of your dorm uniform.

Your dorm uniform is legit whatever the hell you want it to be, so it would change on the daily. Today it was a pair of jeans and a hooded jacket. He kneels to remove your shoes and stands back up, leaning close as he tilts your chin up. His breath fans over your lips.

“You didn’t tell me that you were so lovely beneath your clothes.” His hand on your chin shifted to your cheek, and his other hand laid flat on the table. “And… your smell is much stronger. Are you aroused?”

“You can’t just ask me that! I don’t know what you did but you’ve got to let me go.”

“I didn’t do anything. This is your doing.” He retorts, pecking your lips very chastely. 

“What are you talking about?” When he didn’t respond, instead pressing the tips of his hand that was on the table against your exposed sex, your heart jumps but your body doesn’t move. You can’t, “Don’t do that!”

“Lilia informed me that making someone climax is similar to binding someone to you.” He mumbles, kissing you again as his fingers slowly slip inside. “It makes them fall in love with you. Isn’t that the most binding contract of all?”

You don’t know why he isn’t listening, but even less than that, you don’t know why he thought you could handle two fingers, much larger than your own, penetrating you. You squeal, but your body is incapable of tensing. Malleus pulls back, looking at you in a soft confusion.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“With me? What’s wrong with you? That’s too many- it’s uncomfortable!”

He blinks at you and withdraws a finger, which feels much better. You sigh. If you’re going to be forced to do this, you may as well not get hurt in the process. You close your eyes and Malleus hums.

“Is this better? You’ll have to forgive me. I haven’t had a dalliance with a human before.”

“I- I don’t think I’ll be able to… to forgive you for this.”

“No?” You can hear his smirk and the squelching noise as he pumps his finger gets louder. He slips the second finger in again and the burn isn’t so bad as last time, “Well, maybe you can decide that for certain after the wedding.”

“The wedd-” You have to bite your tongue to keep from moaning. Your body leans back, laying on the table, and your gentle assailant curls his fingers, leaning forward to mouth at your neck, “There’s not gonna be a motherfucking wedding. You’re-”

You can hear his horn scraping against the table, “Hmm. I didn’t think you were so entitled. You’re squeezing around my fingers. Are you close?”

“No!” You’re a liar. A ragged gasp leaves your throat and you feel the drop in the pit of your stomach, the burst of euphoria traveling up your spine as his thumb presses against your clit.

Malleus laughs, then leans up off of you. The sound of clothing hitting the ground is the first and only warning you get, but you can’t move, so it might as well have been silent. You feel something on your stomach, coming up about a half inch below your belly button. It’s… almost cool to the touch. You would think it would be warmer, but it’s not. Your eyes round as you stare at the ceiling, and Malleus’s face leans into view, his eyes boring into yours as though he’s reading your thoughts.

“You’re very warm. I’ve always thought this. You must be boiling inside.”

“I- what?”

He doesn’t respond, leaning back up. You feel the velvety head of his cock press against your entrance and as much as you want to jolt away, you can’t move your body. You can’t even look down to see what he’s doing. Your lashes flutter as the stretch sets in, the pressure worse than his two fingers. It burns, especially along the bottom, where his weight lays heavy thanks to gravity. You’re capable of wincing and letting out a whine, but nothing else.

“H-hey, that- that hurts.” You babble.

“Does it? You are squeezing me like a vice. I’ll stay still for a moment so you can relax some. Let me know when it stops hurting.” It’s very peculiar. Although he speaks with an animated tone, his voice is often detached. You would think he’d have more emotion since he’s inside of you.

You blink rapidly and decide that now is as good a time as any to ask, “What the hell is happening?”

“Must you tease me so?” He responds, his voice tense.

“What? I’m not teasing you. I can’t move!”

“Of course you can’t. You only just bound yourself to my will.”

“I what?” You shout.

“What, did you think I enslaved you? I could have, when we first met. You’re too free, giving people your name, thanking them, taking gifts freely… it drives me mad.” You feel a flash of heat, something warm rolling against your skin, like standing too close to a gas stove, “And now I find that you didn’t even know? I didn’t think you were such a fool.”

“That’s just called being polite!” You protest. “Oh my god-”

“I suppose I can’t blame you, really. Relax, lest I harm you.” He murmurs, rolling his hips further as though he can slide in deeper. 

You squeak, “N-no, that’s-”

“Too much, yes. Tell me, in your world, do faefolk exist?”

“I- I mean, if they do, most people don’t believe in them.” The oddity of the situation felt like a blanket. Having a semi-conversation while your friend- not after this- used you as a dick holster. It was almost comforting. “I don’t- I don’t understand.”

His voice was deeper than normal, an underlying rasp to his voice, as though it was coming from somewhere deep in his throat, “I will explain. I’ll tell you anything you’d like to know. But after I explain, I will begin to move.”

“H-hey, no-”

His voice sounded choked, half strangled as he stifled a groan, “I apologize for not being clear earlier. Among the fae, verbal contracts are common and binding. You do not give someone your name. You wonder why I never directly gave you mine? It is a way to bind someone to your will. You do not accept gifts. Invitations are fine, but a gift is a sign that you owe someone something. My help- a boon- is a gift. Typically it is repaid with another kind turn. And, most importantly, you do not thank someone without the sufficient power to break their hold.” 

You felt him draw back, that wave of heat rolling over you again, and then he slammed forward. The slick noise and dull smack were muffled by your squeal, his cockhead punching your cervix like it stole from him.

“Foolish little thing. I suppose it makes you cute.” He sneers, and your body sits up, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

The angle makes his motion a bit less painful. He’s no longer bumping against your cervix, thank the Seven, but the stretch remains. Your eyes flinch shut and Malleus tilts your chin up to kiss you again.

“St-stop- stop!” You whimper, “You’re hurting me!”

“If you would relax, beauty, that would not be a problem.” His chuckle is dark, the squelching from your coupling making a wicked duet that makes you feel dizzy, “And you said it to me so easily as well. Thank me again.”

“Wh-” One of his hands slipped under your hips, holding your bottom just under the split in your cheeks, and nipped your neck as a flat thumping echoed from where your bodies met, your legs bouncing with the motion. His member had gone back to bullying your cervix, and you wailed in the hopes that he would stop, “Thank you!”

“Heh… it escapes your lips so freely. Tell me, beauty-” He cut himself off with a grunt, panting against the column of your throat. “Tell me, what is it that you’d like? I would give you the world on a platter, should you want it.”

“I- ow! Y-you’re hurting me!”

There was a possibility that he was getting off on the pain he was causing you, just as much as there was a possibility of him not understanding that he was hurting you. With every motion of his hips against yours, despite the wicked pain, you felt that ever evil tug in your gut, like a stone growing heavier and heavier. 

You tried again, because if this had to happen, if you were under his control now, you may as well not get injured. You would not be pissing blood if you could help it, “It’s too deep!”

He listened. It was odd, but he listened, his voice warming as he slid back a bit and continued ramming into you, but no longer beating the hell out of your internal organs.

“I didn’t realize. Is that better?” His voice sounded warmer, echoey against your shoulder. His teeth grazed over your skin again when you didn’t respond. He choked out your name and you sort of came back to yourself.

“U-uh- I guess?”

“Wonderful.” He mumbled, his free hand reaching between your bodies and slicked with your sweat, to tweak your clit.

It should be embarrassing, how quickly you reached your height. Whoever he had been with in the past couldn’t have been so sensitive, since you felt his body jerk against you, an uncontrolled undercurrent to his motions. You let out a quiet, squealing moan and barely even felt the break when Malleus bit you to muffle his own groan. You didn’t feel him climaxing inside of you. You felt the control return to your body and flopped backward onto the table, your hoodie damp with sweat. Malleus took a step back, then carefully redressed you, then himself. You looked up at him and saw nothing but adoration in his eyes, not the fractured appearance of such. It was like he was actually looking at you.

When he spoke to you, leaning forward to cup your cheek, his voice was warm, warmer than ever, “Now, let’s start planning for the wedding, my beauty.”

[demontonic]

Hayden Christensen - The first time

H.C x actor reader

In which you try to avoid him during training but it’s useless when Ewan puts you up against each other in a friendly match.

Word Count: 2099 words (que spiderman theme song. IM NOT JOKING THIS IS THE ACTUALLY COUNT)

You were new to the industry, you had only been in two movies thus far. The first one wasn’t big, it was just an indie film that horror movie nerds happened to like. From there you got picked for an audition for a bigger movie that would be put in a few theaters. However here, now, you’d never really expected such a huge change, you weren’t going to be playing a huge part. It was a flashback for the upcoming series Ahsoka, you were going to be a Jedi for a short time. They were doing another scene for order 66 in which Anakin goes against someone whom he’d become acquainted with during training. A battle was to be choreographed which meant you were going to be up against the actor who had single handedly started your acting career.

You were a huge Star Wars fan and without a doubt one of the kids who had lightsabers and a few Clone Wars coloring books. As you got older you looked into Anakin’s actor Hayden Christensen and grew to love the movies he’d done. Of course you thought he was hot, who wouldn’t love the nerd in Shattered Glass, or the punk in Life as a House? Sure he’s older now but that didn’t stop you from absolutely freezing up the second you walked into the training area. He’s significantly taller than you, that much you already knew but now it made you feel even more anxious. Interviews of him (which you of course obsessed over in your younger years) depicted him to be very nice, but you can’t always judge someone based on their interviews.

“Oh my god,” you whispered to yourself as you placed your hand to your cheek.

“Are you okay?” The trainer had questioned, a slight concern showing on her face. Hayden had also looked to you, the thin lightsaber prop swinging effortlessly to his side as he awaited your answer.

“Uh- Sorry I just got a… um- a headache is all.” You lied while your hands gripped onto the prop like it was the only thing grounding you.

“I have tylenol in my bag, or some water if you want?” Hayden’s hands gesture over to the black backpack that was leaned against the wall next to yours. Your throat ran dry as you opened your mouth to speak, before choking on your words and coughing… quite literally choking on your words.

“Yeah, the water should be fine.” Hayden walked over to his bag before pulling out two bottles and handing one to you. He stood there however as you took a small sip and placed it back down.

“Nervous?” He snickered lowly while he waited for you to collect yourself.

“Pfft… can you tell?” You questioned softly, looking up at his sparkling blue eyes. My god you’d dreamed about meeting him for practically half your life, but all you did was fumble. The casting crew never really gave you a lot of information, just that it was for upcoming Star Wars content and that they’d needed to fill a small jedi role. Nothing could’ve mentally prepared you to meet your living, breathing, wet dream.

“It’s just training right now, so there’s really no need to stress, we can all help you learn everything you’ll need to know.” His voice was so calm and endearing, maybe it was the daddy issues talking or the fact he is a dad, but it was so comforting.

Even three months into your training you’d distanced from Hayden as to not make a complete fool of yourself. He’s almost 40 at this point with a child you’d assume he was tired of the wild fans. Even so during training you’d often slip up while your eyes were trained on his swift movements. Sometimes you guys would get together and have little matches to see who could win. It was a random pick or whoever decided to challenge someone, and it was no different today. Everyone had finished training but the energy had been so vibrant that here you were on the cushioned floor in a circle. At this point it was no secret your character and Anakin were to have a final battle, but you had never gone against each other in these matches.

“Okay before we start, would anyone like to call someone out?” Rosario Dawson, Hayden’s childhood friend who’d been training for a separate project, questioned the small group.

“This isn’t a call out but I’d actually like to see Hayden vs Y/N without their choreography.” Ewan suggested while sitting on the blue mat cross legged, a childlike smile on his face. On one hand you were a shell of a human around Hayden, but with Ewan it was like he was your favorite uncle. Had you at some point in time found him incomprehensibly attractive? Yeah, but he’s the kind of nice that makes you feel like you’ve known him your entire life.

“Oh come on, is that even fair?” You whined, alluding to the obvious experience points he had on you.

“Are you calling me old?” Hayden jokes lightly as he steps forward into the circle, the group collectively letting out a low ‘oooooooh’.

“I mean your character is the chosen one, I don’t know if my three months of training can compare.” In all honesty you had tried your hand occasionally at a lightsaber when you were younger, so you had a little bit more experience than you let on. The amount of times you’d watched the behind the scenes,their practicing and training helped you recognize his moves.

“I’ll go easy on you, how about that?” His arms were outstretched to his sides in a shrug. A smirk was playing on his lips as he stared at you expectantly.

“Easy? Okay Christensen I’ll fight you.” Competitive couldn’t even begin to describe the drive that suddenly pumped through your veins. The way his eyes zeroed in on you, and the familiar smirk you had only dreamed of seeing in person made your adrenaline kick in. All the information you’d ever retained while watching those extras, would finally be useful for more than proving a point in a dumb argument online.

“Let’s not forget who’s had more training.” Hayden said with a scoff as you both got into your beginning stances. Yours mimicking the form Obi-Wan took while fighting Grievous, Ewan didn’t miss it, how could he? He simply stood with his left foot pointing towards you, his right braced for a sprint, and his saber behind him ready for a strike. You were reading him like a billboard, he never strayed from the forms he was taught, but you were a fan with too much time so you had a few of your own moves.

“May the force be with you Master Skywalker.” You said before he charged, you dodged the first strike but he had already begun to recover from the miss. A huff came from his chest as he swung the flimsy pole back down, meeting yours with a loud clash. The group let out sounds of shock and excitement as he pushed you down to one knee, he was stronger than you. It was no secret as height wise he’s an entire foot taller than you, so you quickly rolled from your position in front of him. He stumbled forward slightly, then twisted around to meet your blows. One to the head, down to the legs, up to the arm, then back down to his torso since it would be an awkward position for him to hold. You were both fast, you’d spent so much time learning basic defense in case one of you made a mistake it was too easy. Stamina was probably the only way you’d win this, or so you thought.

“You’ve learned well, young one,” he tripped you up, while you were focused on his words he’d hit you with the same move Anakin used on count Dooku. “although you’re too focused on me,” your ‘saber’ swung upward to slash his torso, but with a small step back, he dropped the pole to his open palm.

“And not my hands.”

“Fuck.”

The cool, thin, dented metal was up against the side of your neck as your arms were still tilted up in your last strike. Heavy breaths left the both of you as your small ‘audience’ went silent. The sound of your pole hitting the mat, signaled your defeat and in true style you dropped to the floor. The room erupted with groans and yells of victory from those who bet on Hayden. A few seconds of lying on the floor Hayden walked over, standing above you holding out his hand.

“Come on loser.” His smile was so genuine it made your face blush softly as you rolled onto your back.

“I can’t, I’m dead, rigor mortis.” You mumble, letting your tongue hang out the side of your mouth. You felt two arms scoot under your back and knees, quickly feeling your body lifted into the air. A scream came out of your throat as your hand quickly gripped onto Hayden’s loose shirt. The group laughed as he basically tossed you up and down, pretending like he was going to drop you.

“I don’t know why you’re screaming! Dead people don’t scream!”

“Oh- OH MY- PLEASE! GOD PLEASE! OBI WAN PLEASE!” He’d even managed to flip you on your stomach, your fingertips almost meeting the ground before he flung you back up again. Sure it wasn’t a crazt high distance from his arms, but add that with his height it was terrifying enough.

“So uncivilized!” Ewan mocked in a bad Obi-Wan voice, Hayden finally held you against his chest as he laughed with the rest of the group. Ewan came over with Rosario, both of them cooing softly at your semi panicked state.

“Put the poor girl down already!”

“She’s as red as a tomato Hayden!”

He let you down to your feet, still holding onto you as you stumbled lightly. Your chest heaved as you rested your hands on your knees, completely oblivious to how you practically pushed against Hayden’s crotch. His hand came down to rest on your lower back, rubbing softly while you regained your breath.

“I’m-… I’ll kill you for that one day Christensen.” You said through heavy breaths before standing straight again. Hayden’s hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, sporting a smug smile as the group began to discuss the next match. Hayden pulled you off the far walls where your bags lay, you both sitting in front of each other while he pulled out water bottles. For a while you sat in silence, just leaning against the wall watching Rosario and Ewan go at it.

“Were you ever going to tell me about your tattoo?” Hayden questioned, his voice staying low in contrast with the yelling from the group. At first you almost didn’t know what he was talking about, but then your cheeks turned to a dark red. On your wrist was the japor snippet Anakin gave Padme when they first met, and under it read ‘Skywalker’ in Huttese. Usually it was covered by a scrunchie or bracelet, but it must’ve slipped your mind today.

“I wasn’t planning on it, it feels too embarrassing to show you.” You held your arm out to him, since he’d already seen it there was no use in hiding it now. His hand pulled your wrist closer as he traced it with his fingers.

“I always wanted to get a replica of the japor snippet but I never did. I think this is really cool Y/N, you don’t need to be so nervous around me all the time.” He said quietly as he set your arm down on your thigh. Hayden was nice, but you were feral, you still couldn’t grasp the fact you avoided him like a schoolgirl avoided her crush.

“I-… I am not! The job is just so… overwhelming you know?” Lies, you shook as bad as a chihuahua when you were alone with him, practicing lines, fighting, and in general.

“It’s been three months and you still get distracted by just staring at me mid-fight.” A chuckle resonated in his chest as you looked at your blushing face.

“Okay… I just didn’t want to look like some nerdy, obsessed fangirl, I didn’t know how well that would go over.” Holding the cool bottle against your face you let your hair shield your face from the older man.

“I think it’s cute.”

And for the first time, you felt like maybe the star would align, maybe you would have a chance with the man you’d worshipped during your teen years.

I need to be his controversially young girlfriend HIS BIRTHDAY IS THE DAY AFTER MINE idk i think its a sign or whatever🤞🏼 hope you liked this! feel free to make any requests! i might make a part two but idk yet

Masterlist

[starwrighter]

Just a random thought that I turned into a prompt.

I've seen a few posts where Danny can shapeshift but usually he's shapeshifting into animals like crows and cats. For this prompt, hear me out... He shapeshifts into a person. Shocking concept I know! But he doesn't shapeshift into any person he shapeshifts into one of the Batfam, specifically he shapeshifts into Dick. Specifically Dick because he's the one I think is least likely to immediately try to murder Danny for being a clone or write it off as a hallucination from sleep deprivation.(*cough*Tim *cough*)

He doesn't shapeshift into Dick because he knows who he is. Danny has no clue who Gotham's vigilantes or the Wayne's are, Amity park was very isolated even before the portal opened. Danny shapeshifted because he was hungry and walking into a restaurant with his own appearance made people act hostile or pitying towards him. He's been called all types of names from Mutant to Troq and has since learned it was easier to shapeshift to get food then to deal with that.

Danny only shapeshifted into Dick because he was one of the first people he saw while walking around Gotham. In Danny's mind he just shapeshifted into a random person he saw on the street the day before. He's just in it to get fast food, he doesn't think anything of it. Though, he is a little taken aback when the cashier casually calls him a dick, but maybe this dude is a regular that's on friendly terms with the staff. Danny got his greasy food and all is well, that is untill he lock eyes with the real Dick who looks confused but not surprised.

The two of them lock eyes and it's like the spiderman meme for a few second until Dick, in a brilliant moment of intelligence decides to give chase... In public.

Danny's not willing to give up his fast food so easily. He is 100% willing to go through a cartoonishly long chase scene for his over salted fries. So it's just Dick chasing Danny with both of them doing circus level acrobatics.

It would just be Dick chasing Danny at full speed like "This is identity theft!"

And Danny snapping back with "Fuck you! Let me enjoy my lunch in peace Dick!"

He doesn't know Dicks name he's just calling him a dick, but this solidifies it in Dicks mind that he is a clone. So when Dick finally runs Danny into a dead end he demands to know who created him. Danny's confused as hell cause the suspiciously acrobatic civilian is calling him clone and demanding to know who made him. Not wanting to deal with being called a clone he responds to Dick's question.

"Uh... my parents created me dude. I'm just a shapeshifter I don't know what to tell you," after saying that he shapeshifts back a shovels a handful of fries into his mouth.

Dick is utterly baffled when his not clone turns into a small fanged child that looks to be about Damian's age when they were first introduced. He's just staring awkwardly as this kid wolfs down food like he hasn't seen a decent meal in months. The entire time Danny's stuffing his face Dick's have a mental debate on whether or not he should take Danny home to Bruce or not. If he doesn't, the severely malnourished child doesn't get a proper meal but if he does bring the kid back he has to admit that he chased a suspected clone in public and ignored the fact the gear he had on him detected the shapeshifters heartbeat in his stomach before he shapeshifted back into his true form. (My personal headcannon that Danny cannot change where his heartbeat would beno matter how big or small he is)

Dick ends up bribing Danny with food to come back with him.

(Sorry if this was bad I wrote this at three am. Also smart bby Danny is my heart and soul!)

[miicycle]

The Kung Fu Panda Movies have always had Mr. Ping give the moral of the story, and I think about that a lot. Yes, Po is usually out fighting bad guys when realizing where he should be mentally and skillfully, on his own when he gets the point of teachings. Ping is such an important person in Po's life, just as much as Shifu is needed to help Po learn Kung Fu.

Way more under the cut!!!

Kung Fu Panda 1: "You are almost ready to be entrusted with the secret ingredient of my secret ingredient soup. And then you will fulfill your destiny and take over the restaurant [...]" - Ping

"Secret Ingredient of my secret ingredient soup" being an allegory for Dragon scroll and "destiny" being Po becoming the Dragon warrior and "take over the restaurant" as being Oogway's successor.

Then it turns out the scroll is blank. And Ping feels its a good place to tell Po about the secret ingredient. NOTHING. For something to be special, you just have to BELIEVE it's special.

So Po, not needing any secret scroll or any cool powerup, wins against Tai Lung by believeing in himself.

Ping made him believe in himself. And when Po fulfills his destiny of defeating Tai Lung, he's PROUD!

Kung Fu Panda 2: "Po, your life may not have such a happy beginning, but look at how it turned out! You got me, you got kung fu! And you got noodles!" - Ping (and almsot identical quote said by Soothsayer)

And

Po: "I gotta go. I'm the Dragon Warrior, it's kinda my job to save Kung Fu. And if I don't, what am I?"

Ping: "You're my son! ... Right?"

The message is pretty clearcut, but it's repeated very heavily in the movie. Mr Ping may not be his father, but he is his dad. No matter where he came from, Po is Mr Pings son through and through and he very much loves him.

The scene where Po has been knocked into a river and saved by the Soothsayer, she says the same thing that Ping does. He didn't have a happy beginning, but what matters is who he is, and what he chooses to do now.

And the montage plays everything hes done up until now, but also empathizes the moments between Ping and Po. The last thing he sees in his mind is Ping being a dad, because he is Po's dad! Whatever happened before doesn't have bearing for who Po chooses to be. So when he chooses to be the son of a goose and the Dragon Warrior, nothing he finds out can change that.

Because Dragon Warrior or not, Po is Ping's son! Right?

Kung Fu Panda 3: "He's hurt. He's confused. And he still has to save the World! He needs both his dads." - Ping

"I realized that having you in his life doesn't mean less for me. It means more for Po." - Ping

And

"I'm not trying to turn you into me. I'm trying to turn you into you!" - Shifu

(Love how often Shifu and Ping mirror each other's roles btw they're both so important)

So these are a little less on the nose, but again super important. No matter what Po is going through, he still has to fulfill his destiny, and giving him support while he does so is the best they can do. Ping was initially worried of Li Shan stealing Po away, but realizes that bonding with his biological father doesn't take him away from Ping, just more love and support for Po.

But also, Po learning that he doesn't have to change drastically to reach his true potential. When Ping and Li Shan stand on the small platform and tell Po that they can help, along with all other pandas, Po has the realization that he can't turn them into him, just as Shifu can't turn him into Shifu, or Li Shan can't turn him into a typical panda.

Ping doesn't say a direct quote to mirror Shifu's, but he did initiate talking to Li Shan after Po and Li Shan had the liar reveal. Li never had the experience of having an arguement with his child, but Ping obviously does. So he takes it upon himself to keep being the rock that Po can lean on by talking to Li Shan and helping him realize that they have to be there for Po, no matter what happens.

Because again. Po is hurt. Po is confused. But he still has to save the world. He needs both his dads.

I love Ping so much for being a good dad in this way. He really plays well as a support character and is such a good parent. Yeah, Po may not fit the mold the way Ping expected (taking over the noodle shop etc) but hes still so proud!!!

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Shielded

Daryl Dixon x Reader | fantasy AU

Everyone openly shows and uses their powers, except for Daryl. Until you get hurt.

🩸 🪽 🩸

Daryl always saw you as a sweet, small lady who’d be easily hunted down or snatched away. Not because you were weak or inexperienced, but because of the way you looked.

Some generations ago children started to be born with animal attributes that came with a set of skills or powers that oftentimes altered their appearance.

Where Rick was blessed with the precision of a hawk that showed in his eyes and never missed a single shot, Rosita had cat-like reflexes that came with a tail to balance her out more evenly and pointed ears with the smallest tuft of fur at the end. Then there was Carol who was given the ability to heal, which as she learned turned her hair more and more gray with every physical wound she healed and took from her happiness as she brightened someone else’s dark thoughts.

And you, you were born with the long ears and fuzzy tail of a rabbit which on one hand made you easily anxious, but also gave you the leg strength to kick a walker’s head clean off with a single strike.

Of course there were also people who despised the conditions they were born with and did everything in their power to hide them. One of those people was Daryl.

People would often take guesses what he kept hidden but he never budged and would often walk away from any of said conversations.

Conversations like this one.

“Have I ever told you I love those wings of yours?” Daryl was quick to wave you off with a “dunno wha’ yer talkin’bout.” He turned to walk away you, showing you just the thing you talked about. “The wings. On your vest. The one Judith fixed for you.” Oh how stupid he felt in that moment. He’d always been so stuck on people only talking to him when they either needed his help or came to pry that he immediately shot you down when it wasn’t an ask for help.

“Yeah uh. Thanks I guess.” He had been wearing that vest for so long he sometimes forgot what it meant to him. He was so conditioned to hate his traits that he had kept them hidden ever since he was a child. Whenever it was mentioned he was told it was a shame how it ruined his masculinity, how it made him look like he didn’t belong in their family. And how it didn’t fit his dirty looks and lifestyle as a hunter and tracker who’d often hide away in the woods.

He wanted to like all of him but it all brought back memories of year upon years of abuse and the pain that came with it, mentally and physically.

“Come on, we should start heading back, we got enough food for now.” Carrying around more was only gonna slow you down if you had to start running. Plus it was going to be hard to stash it all in your temporary bridge building campsite.

It was around dinnertime when everyone had stopped working for the day or was taking a break to eat as the distant growling and rustling caught people's attention.

From almost every side walkers stumbled out of the surrounding woods, catching you off guard and easily outnumbering your current group. You hopped up and ran off to your tent to grab the weapons you had left there but not managing to make it as you were surrounded in an instant.

Having to work with the one hunting knife on you you opted for a wide kick to the front row of walkers to give you some breathing room and a moment to unsheathe said knife before sinking it into the skull of one stumbling forward. All around you there were people fighting this herd that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

You spun and stepped around taking walkers down with kicks and stabs, ready to spin back and kick one's lights out as it ducked out of your way and a knife was sunk deep into your leg.

You shrieked in pain as a easily recognizable crossbow bolt sank into the attacker's skull. But with the amount of walkers swarming towards you you weren't sure if that one bolt really made a difference.

With the knife stuck in your leg you sat crouched on the forest floor with only a small knife to protect yourself. You closed your eyes and braced for the agonizing tear of flesh and loud growling and gnawing. You duck down, hiding your face in your arms and surrounding yourself in darkness so that you wouldn't see any of it, sobbing into your arms as the panic fully set in.

Everything was dark.

And it stayed dark, your ears were ringing from panic and everything was dark.

Sucking in a breath you slowly opened your eyes, still down in your arms and lifted up your head. Ears still ringing but your eyesight was alright, but it was still dark.

Slowly shapes came back into view, small spots of light coming from behind you and peeked from underneath at the forest floor. The ringing in your ears faded as a panting noise came from beside you and only now were you registering a weight on your shoulders.

The sounds of walkers and fighting still surrounded you but it was all muffled, like you had your head buried under the covers at home to drown out the yelling. Your head turned to inspect your surroundings, still not entirely back on earth yet as all you saw was ..white? and red stains.. it was all around you until your eyes met with Daryl who was crouched beside you. He was the one panting, a pained expression on his face as a hand went to rest on your knee now that you were coming back from your panic attack.

"Ya alright?" A soft whisper left his lips, not wanting to startle you and rubbed soft circles onto your skin. "Yer safe, I got ya."

Whatever it was that surrounded you wasn't moving. Not until the sounds outside of it had died down and someone shouted for Daryl.

Everything in your vision shifted at the call of his name, but never moved away as he made sure you were alright. Only after you had reached for his hand and given it a squeeze he slowly moved to sit back and light poured back into your vision.

A wave of shock came over you as you realized what kept you safe. As the forest came back into view, so did your ability to properly see in the daylight again. There was a massive pair of wings moving out of your view.

Muted white feathers were splattered in reds. Its movements erratic and paired with pained groans coming from behind you.

Without thinking you spun around, wincing in pain and dropping down on your good leg and staring at the man behind you.

Daryl sat there, on the forest floor with his button up shirt torn up. His leather vest wasn't on his anymore and the bloody pair of wings that kept you safe were sprouted from his back.

Every little movement his wings made had him try to pull away from them in pain, a clear sign of abandoning his powers for so long. The blood covering the feathers on both the in and outside of the wings also showed another story of why he'd hide them. But even with the gore all over them they were so pretty.

By now two people had rushed over to you and were making quick work of patching up your leg as you kept your focus on Daryl who looked to be having the worst time.

His gaze went from person to person, erratic breathing and a panicked look in his eyes. In his rush to save you he had summoned his wings after hiding them for almost forty years. But not even the open wounds and torn skin on his back hurt as much as the memories flooding back to the front of his mind. The voices of his family and their friends talking about him like he was a disgrace, a failure and a downright worthless being.

He kept his eyes on you then, focusing on the skilled hands of the medics working on your leg but immediately backing away as they got up and came towards him.

He backed up against a tree, his back hitting the bark. He let out a pained groan as he kept his eyes on the two trying to help him. No words were needed to let it be known he didn't want anyone near him.

Behind the two, you had gotten back on your feet and held onto a makeshift crutch to stay upright and had silently asked Rick to fetch you a blanket which he happily brought you.

Stumbling you made your way past the pair that still kept their eye on Daryl and crouched down with great difficulty. “If I put this over your back, will you follow me to the medical tent?” You held the blanket out to him, allowing him to take it from you on his own terms. “That way no one will see, and no one has to touch unless you say it’s okay.” You could see on his face he was still hesitating to come away from the tree that was doing his back more bad than good. As he reached forward his shoulder twitched and his wing slumped to the ground, almost pulling his full body with it. You took this as a sign to go ahead and drape the fabric over his back as well as you could while keeping yourself up on your crutch and being careful to not touch his wings. You slowly stepped back as he tried to get up off the ground but clearly not being in great control of his wings. Once he was upright you asked him again to follow you but he wasn’t moving just yet. His wings were still spread rather wide. You gave him a sweet smile, being as patient and understanding as you could. Luckily you were the one with the ‘patience of an angel’ according to the group. You watched as he looked at his wings one at a time to guide them into a folded position. Normally movements like those would be hardwired into someone’s system and it would all go without thinking twice, but in Daryl’s case he needed to see where his wings were going to keep them in check. When he had them folded close to his body he took his first steps towards the medical tent, falling into step with your slow hobbles.

“Alright,” You let out a sigh as you ran into yet another problem. “I’m not gonna get you in here with your wings out..” It was already hard enough for him to be moving around right now, let alone retract his wings in his current state, but you had to ask. “Do you know how to retract them?” He scoffed like child not wanting to speak up about a broken vase to his mother. You turned to look at him after securing the tent’s entrance open. He wouldn’t look you in the eyes as mumbled something you couldn’t make out.

“What was that? I can’t treat your back with your wings in the way.” Your tome was almost apologetic, knowing it would probably hurt him more than summoning them earlier.

“Dun wanna.” He looked up to find your gaze, his voice low. “Makes a mess..”

You wondered what mess he meant, but you were sure of the fact they weren’t gonna go for a while so you had to come up with something. Back inside the tent stood an armless chair that you offered Daryl at the entrance, asking him to sit in it backwards, facing away from the tent so you could tend to his wounds with the most possible coverage. “I’ll treat the open wounds as best as I can right now, but I’m gonna have to actually see what’s going on there.” Your hand reached over to his shoulder and laid there. “Is that okay? Just for medical purposes.”

He gave you a grunt and a wary okay, and with that you ever so carefully took the blanket off his back to reveal the tattered button down that his wings had torn through.

You dig for a knife and skillfully cut away at the fabric, freeing up space to clean as more of his back was revealed to you. Two thick streams of dried blood ran from the base of his wings down into the waistband of his pants and stained the entire base of his wings, white feathers completely dark red.

You took the supplies and got going, apologizing every time you touched the cloth to his skin earning a wince from him. As you wiped away the dried blood more details on his skin came into view. Tattoos of creatures with demon like wings made you wonder if he preffered to have those same kind of wings. And scars of different ages, most of which you didn't even dare to ask about. You chose to keep your thoughts for another time.

“I’m gonna try to dress some of the wounds, make sure they don't get infected."

He let out an agreeing grunt, and you went ahead to talk him through your process as you worked.

Soon enough his back was patched in white bandages, but you had no spare clorhing for him that would fit over his wings..

You stared around, thinking and letting out a frustrated huff as you scolded yourself for not thinking this far ahead.

"Wha's botherin' ya, cotton tail?" Daryl's tired voice sounded through the tent and you turned back towards him to explain yourself.

"There's no spare clothing that fits over your wings." You sounded defeated by the setback, but Daryl quickly gave you a solution before your anxious bunny brain went back into panic mode.

You thanked him for his input and went to fetch one of the leftover blankets that were too small to sleep under and cut it as he instructed.

"Alright, so I cut it halfway over the lenght. That's it?" You held the thing up and inspected it, unsure what to do next.

"Ya, tha's it." He holds up his hand as far as his body allowed it.

"Nah hand me the thin ends tha' ya jus' cut." He held his hands at his shoulders to take the pieces of fabric from your hands. When he had both ends in his hands he pulled them forward until the end of the cut touched the back of his neck.

You watched him pull the garment over his torso and onlg when he showed you how it hung over him did you realize how dumb you were for not getting his explaination at first. "Oh damn, it's like your poncho." It worked great to cover his front and back while still leaving the sides open for his wings. If he kept the base below his shoulders it would sit well enough.

"Should I find a way to get you home? Get you some privacy to deal with your wings?" Daryl's eyes followed your struggling movements as you hobbled around deep in thought.

"Yo Rick!" He called over before you had even taught of an option.

The man in question showed up at the tent only seconds later, happy to see his friend more comfortable again.

A request to get a ride home was quickly approved and fixed with some creative seating in the flat back of the pickup. You had never in your years of knowing him seen Rick drive so carefully, but it did give you time to really take in the scenery of the woods like you used to before the world ended.

Back within the walls Rick had dropped you off at Daryl's home where he assisted you up the porch steps and helped maneuver Daryl's wings carefully through the doorframe.

Once inside you had Rick generously help to move around furniture to accomodate Daryl's wings.

A matress in the place where the coffee table sat, that was now next to the dinner table.

You had drawn the curtains and were preparing some warm food, leaning against the counter on your good leg while Daryl laid on the matress in the living room, on his stomach trying to get comfortable.

"I got us some food, wanna eat now or later?" When you got no response you grabbed a small portion for yourself and ate where you stood before going to take a nap on the couch.

Even with him passing out way before you, you still woke up earlier. The light that shone through the curtains now almost entirely gone and deciding you'd just go back to sleep and deal with things tomorrow. Daryl really needed the rest as well.

When morning came you found Daryl awake but still laying down in the matress. He had his head turned to you and resting on his arms, greeting you lazily as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

"G'morning, Dee. Sleep well?" You leaned up on your elbow and gave him a once-over. His wings rested against the floor and the fabric over his back had shifted only a little bit.

"Yeah I did. Been thinkin' as well." He sat up on his knees and let his wings hang down beside him.

You had sat up against the armrest of the couch as well, legs stretched out in front of you.

"Ya got supplies here. I'll put mah wings away if ya make sure not ta tell anyone." His hand that rested in his lap came up to chew at his skin in a nervous habit.

Your smile lit up the room, and maybe having you stay when he retracted his wings wouldn't be much of an issue. You had only looked at him with admiration in your eyes

You looked him over and gave him a kind nod, slowly making your way into the kitchen to fetch the box of medical items and scooted it over to the livingroom with your crutch. When you came back he was still sitting there. You saw his body move with every deep breath and suddenly a cracking sound filled the room. Daryl let out a pained noise as his wings started shedding all their feathers and the flesh structure disappeared back underneath his skin. The process wasn't fast and Daryl's sounds made it clear it was a painful one. Blood from reopened wounds trickled down his back again as the skin fully settled.

You huffed as you dropped down behind him to patch up his back again, cleaning up the tears where the bone came through and asking permission to stitch him up before doing so.

When he was fully patched up you planted a soft kiss at the base of his neck, and the right between his shoulderblades where you kept yojr lips against his skin for a moment before sitting back up.

"Thanks for saving me, Daryl." He gave a pleased hum in response before moving to lay back down, shoving the feathers off the matress. "I'll help clean later, promise." A long drawn sigh escaped his lips as he slid all the way down. "Sleep first." And with that he passed out again.

While he slept you gathered up the prettiest feathers and snuck one of his bolts into a bag. Cutting off a small strip of the red rag he always carried you carefully put it in the bag with the feathers as well.

With lots of effort and as little sound as possible you snuck down to his room where you knew he kept tools and supplies you needed for your little plan.

With all the luck in the world you found a small piece of wood, perfect to hold the bolt upright i to it as you worked to strategicly tie the nicest feathers to the bolt, just below its own feathered end and hid the wire with the red cloth that you tied artistically around it. With one of the woodworking knives you found you carefully cut a bit of the bark off to get a smooth surface to carve text into.

After finishing your little thank you gift you went back upstairs to find Daryl still passed out on the matress, softly snoring away. It was the most calm you had ever seen him and you hoped to see him in this domestic setting and this soft side of him more often.

While he still recovered in dreamland you swiped together the mess of fearhers, leaning on the broom so much the bristles all spread out but you eventually got the job done.

You knew for a fact you were gonna get scolded for cleaning up by yourself with your bad leg but you couldn't just leave his home a mess.

Besides, if you were gonna put Daryl's gift in a nice spot for him to find when he woke up you couldn't be slipping on any loose feathers and rudely wake him.

So you cleaned, made some space on the small side table against the wall and placed your gift on it before retreating to the couch.

Ofcourse aftr sitting down for only half a minute the archer stirred awake and sat up and stared around the now clean floor.

"Didn' I tell ya ta wait?" He raises an eyebrow at you as you shied away from his gaze, apologizing under your breath.

"Wha' was tha'?" Daryl had gotten up and now stood towering over you in just his jeans, his torso adorned in tattoos and scars on full display for you to be distracted by.

"Asked y'a question, fluffbutt." He tapped a finger to your chin and have you look up at him with wide eyes.

"Ya like starin? S'rude ya know."

You blinked and looked away, this time apologizing a bit louder this time. With a smile he let you of your chin and stroked your soft furred ear. He let out a surprised hum. "Even softer than I thought." He fidgeted the end between his fingers, easily getting just as distracted by the softness as you had by his roughness.

Your hand reached up go place it on his and looked him in the eyes. Neither of you spoke a word, the way you looked at each other spoke volumes. A shaky breath left your lips right before he bent down and pressed his own lips against them.

It didn't last long but it said enough. Your eyes moved between Daryl's and the gift you had left on the table for him and he followed your gaze behind him.

There, on the small table that held some of his candles stood something new.

He took his time to study it up close. He held the wooden block in his hands, inspecting the bolt for a moment and recognising it as the one he had pulled from the head of the walker that almost bit you. Its feathers were torn and the base was cracked, no longer useful now that he looked it over.

There were off white feathers in different sizes tied just below the end. His feathers. There wasn't a single strand off on them, almost perfect in their form and he had to admit they looked really good combined with the rugged bolt. Thw whole piece came together between the oiled up red fabric of the cloth he carried around everywhere, its frayed edges standing out against the bright feathers.

But the thing that hit the hardest were the words carved into its stand.

"To my guardian angel"

His voice was soft as he set the piece back down and walked over to you, pulling you up into a tight hug.

"Thanks fer makin' me hate mahself a lil' less." His sentence ended with another kiss.

As he set you down he announced he needed more comfortable clothes as he set out to his basement room and change.

When he came back you had made your way into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as the food from yesterday warmed up.

"Hey, Daryl?"

He came walking over to you, his hair up in a messy bun and rocking dark, patched up sweats and a faded band tee that was missing its sleeves. "Yeah, lil' bunny rabbit?"

You looked up at him with nothing but admiration and love.

"Have I ever told you I love those wings of yours?"

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: Wow! A different AU from my usual writings. This was a nice challenge and I hope you enjoy!

[museandwords]

worship in decay ( bucky barnes x reader)

Warnings: female!reader, dubious consent, lots of alcohol consumption, mentions of casual sex, addiction mentions, the avoidance of genuine feelings, foul language, self-destructive behaviors, self-hatred?, self-esteem issues, parent issues, childhood trauma, bucky is no saint, but he tries to be a good boy, mentions of mental health, this will be expanded on per chapter.

Author’s note: this was affectionately nicknamed the hoe fic. i have been working on this for the better part of the past two (three?) months. im still adding, re-writing and editing a lot of the chapters. so far i have 7 chapters planned, though this may change as it's expanding by the second. weekly updates are planned, and to be perfectly honest this is just self-indulged and an ode to the sluts. please validate me, feedback is welcome. also sorry i've been gone for so long (i got married)

MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY

PROLOGUE 

You don’t know why you do it. 

You suppose you could put the blame on your absent father, or the degradation and restrained hatred your mother held for you. You remember being that small child – begging for their love. 

Now you find it in the hands of strangers. 

Maybe you could blame it on the liquor that burns your throat and melts the ice off your bones and paints the world in some rose-coloured hue.

Or maybe (and this is the part that scares you most) you’re just truly a despicable human being, in which all of the ugly parts of your parents made you whole. 

You try not to think too much about that. So you find comfort in the warmth of bodies, the hunger in kisses, the worship of strange men that bring you closer to God than any religion could. 

At the end of the day; human beings are mammals at their core, it’s a dog eat dog world, and you’re starving.

‿︵‿︵ - - ‿︵‿︵ 

Waking up in the 21st century initially shook Bucky to his core.

American culture had fallen into a frenzy of degeneracy that could’ve made James Buchanan Barnes cry. 

But he wasn’t James Buchanan Barnes anymore, he was something else.

And he was already desensitized to the dread of the world thanks to the recollection of his own mental house of horrors.

He just couldn’t believe there were more people like him.

People who are more desperate, self-serving, and shameless, he notices. He feels right at home with them. 

That debauched urgency to chase a temporary high to replace the self-hatred even just for a little while was something he and these kinds of people shared. Addicts, the depraved, the lost, the broken. 

Let them say Bucky Barnes was their king. 

He's learned quickly that being brainwashed and kept on ice for the past 70 years really took a toll on his libido, go figure. He’s like a damn teenager full of raging hormones wanting to stick his dick in anything that moves. Now all he craves is the warmth of a human, living breathing body beneath him while their essence fills the holes in his soul. 

What surprises him more is that they let him. They let his blood stained hands all over their silken soft skin, they let his rotted essence into their core, infecting them, tainting them, over and over, and they enjoy it.

His teeth graze their neck, and they should be scared that the Winter Solider could rip their throat out in a millisecond.

Instead, they coo and sigh and hold onto him tighter. It's addictive.

He loves them, every single one, for one reason or another. 

This one makes pretty noises in his ear and smells like candy, that one has a beauty mark beneath her left eye and can make him laugh, those other ones look pretty in sundresses and make him breakfast in the morning.  They all give him something, things he never knew he needed. To be adored, taken care of, loved.

[bl00dst41ned]

*.·:·.✦ my little secret (jude bellingham ‘series’ pt.4) ✦.·:·.*

pairing: jude bellingham x female oc (Mariah)

summary: in which it’s time for Jude to learn a bit more about babies

author's note: part 4’s finally out, sorry i'm late. not proofread at ALL !! also i have a Jude imagine sometimes next week (and I loveeee it). taglist: @everlyjay, @barcagirly, @alwaysclassyeagle @urmotheris, @fashphotolife

series masterlist

word count: 848

The door opened in front of Jude, who was met with Mariah.

“Hey, come in” She gave him a small smile, stepping to the side to let him in.

Jude slowly walked in her apartment. He was instantly hit with the warm and familial atmosphere of her home.

“Tami’s in her room, you can come”

They had decided to spend the evening together with their daughter.

He followed behind her to the nursery. Tamara sat in her swing seat, calm as ever

“Hey baby, look who’s there” Mariah cooed to her daughter with a smile.

The baby looked where her mother was pointing and noticed Jude, a smile appearing on her face.

Mariah handed Tami to her dad. She placed her upright on his shoulder, putting his right hand behind her neck. She went to open the blinds, the room’s decoration revealed by the daylight.

The light blue color reminded Jude how much she despised pink for baby girls and promised to do a blue one just to piss people off.

“You did a good job with the room” He broke the silence.

“Thank you” She briefly responded before leaving the room, Jude and Tami at her trail.

They exchanged these few words before going back to silent. A comfortable one.

“How did your parents react to the news?”

Mariah had not seen or talk to them since the break up. They might hate her, or even think she’s lying for money.

“My mom slapped the bloody hell out of me, asked me to apologise and they ordered me to be there for you and Tamara”

She chuckled a bit, recognizing his mom’s personality. Nevertheless, she was glad they weren’t mad at her.

She sat at the table while watching Jude handle the little baby carefully and get more comfortable. He sat on the couch and laid her on his stomach.

His hand caressed her face, pulling back each time she tried to put it in her mouth. He listened to her whines everytime she didn’t get what she wanted.

“Stop being bratty, you ate already”

Mariah and Jude chuckled at her antics.

“Um, Mariah” Jude called hesitantly. “What’s her exact date of birth ?”

Asking this question embarrassed him more than anything. How could he take care of a child he knew nothing about.

“September 23rd, at 2:17AM”

Jude could only respond a small ‘oh’ while printing the information in his head.

“Wait ?! she was born on Jobe’s birthday?”

Mariah nodded with a smile since she had waited for him to catch on that detail.

“He’ll be buzzing when he’ll hear that”

He made a mental note to text his brother about it focusing back on the little human on his chest. The young woman could sense how it affected him not knowing anything about his daughter, not even her birthday.

“ She weighted 2,9 kg and measured 48cm. She’s pretty calm but can get bratty as you can see. She’s really social and loves to see other people….Oh and she loves Frank Ocean’s voice to sleep” She emphasized her last sentence, ranting things he needed to know.

Jude listened to each word, glad he didn’t have to feel embarrassed to ask about her.

His thoughts were interrupted by an unusual smell, his nose instantly scrunching.

“Oop- looks like baby need to be changed”

Jude was ready to hand Tamara to Mariah but was instantly stopped.

“How do you want to learn if you don’t practice”

They headed to the bathroom, Jude gently laying Tamara on the changing table. Mariah got a basket with the products while he opened her used diaper. He stepped back, disgusted by the sight.

“Stop being childish and clean her up” Mariah laughed off giving him baby wipes.

Jude slowly complied himself under Mariah’s instructions. With a little help, he managed to change her. He put her back in his arms, and they both left to the living room.

“I see you’re getting comfortable” Mariah smiled at them rubbing their daughter’s hair as they sat next to each other.

They watched her eyelids getting heavier. They could tell Tami tried to fight sleep, her eyes popping open every once in a while. But she could not resist to her mother’s caresses on her face, soon dozing off.

“Is that some type of cheat code ?” Jude remembered seeing Mariah do the same thing on her IG story.

“It works when I do it at least”

They fell in a comfortable silence, only sound being little baby whimpers. Jude felt like he had found his place. He had a beautiful little girl to take care. He found balance and was slowly growing back a friendly bond with Mariah. Everything he did wrong was turning right.

Mariah also felt like this. Not telling him about Tamara was her biggest mistake and she regretted it daily. But the solution came by itself and she had the opportunity to right her wrongs. Despite failing their relationship, she knew they could succeed in being a family. He gave her his word.

“Thank you for keeping your promise”

and scene !! this is the end of this little series. hope you liked reading it as much as I liked writing it.

like and repost for support

masterlist for more

[lilyginnyblackv2]

Misaki and Kazuki - Miri’s Mother and Her New Papa - SPOILERS!

I really hope that we get to see Misaki (Miri’s Mom) and Kazuki interact again.

In the interaction that we got in Episode 3, both Misaki and Kazuki were making assumptions about each other and their connection and experience (or lack thereof) with childcare based solely on their genders. 

They both show room to grow as people. Kazuki as a caretaker of a child, since he is still fairly (though not completely) new to the concept of parenthood, and Misaki as a person who values herself, her dreams, and learning to nurture the small goodness that we see inside of her (like when she tells Kazuki to sit down so she can care for the cut she caused to his face).

Both of these characters have experienced trauma, and Misaki is stuck in a cycle of abuse. I don’t think Misaki is going to be a one-off character, not only because of this image from the OP, which is very likely her crying eye (the eye color, makeup, and eyelashes are all the same):

But also because of this tweet from her Japanese VA:

The English text reads:

I play the role of a character named Misaki Unasaka. Let me stop here for now.  I hope to see the story through with you all.

(Note, I really appreciate that her VA also wrote the message in English!)

To me, that indicates that she will be making an appearance again. Over on r/anime, I saw some thinking that Misaki would only show up again if she learns that Miri has inherited a lot of money or something. But, well...

I don’t think that is likely, since we don’t even know if that mafia boss was aware that Miri had been born/existed. Also, inheriting mafia money is probably a bit complicated, and I doubt his actual wife (if she survived, tbh, I can’t remember off hand) would allow that. But even more so than that, I feel like it would just be falling into stereotypes, and be too much of a black and white depiction of child-rearing (in a negative sense) that Buddy Daddies has largely avoided up until now.

They’ve done great stuff with the Red and Blue Oni Trope. Kazuki is the red oni, and he is more expressive and open, but he isn’t as impulsive, which is Rei, imo.

Rei is the blue one who is colder and more closed off, but he is also the more childish of the two. 

Miri’s associated color is pink (with orange being her secondary, and honestly more fitting color), but she doesn’t have a demure or stereotypical girlish personality (because goodness knows gender presentation starts that young). 

So, I don’t think they would just write Misaki’s character like that - leans too much into poor and easy writing. Also, it goes against the writers wanting to make the child-rearing experience feel realistic.

Personally, I would much rather that they meet up again (or even a few times) and we get to see Misaki learning to value herself and reach a better place mentally and emotionally - finally being able to leave her abuser behind (perhaps with the help of Kazuki and Rei). BUT, her “happy ending” WON’T be becoming Miri’s mother and caretaker again.

How refreshing would it be to see a woman’s story end like that? Realize that the best thing she could do for her daughter and herself is to not be her mother or caretaker. While the proper and best caretakers and parents for Miri are two men. That’s a message we need to see more - the ideas that not all men are bumbling idiots who can’t care for kids and that not all women are natural caretakers.

Misaki and Kazuki both claim these things to be true, in how they spoke and interacted with each other in this most recent episode, Ep. 3. So, let’s see the series and future interactions prove them wrong and have them learn and grow together - coming to an understanding that these preconceived stereotypes simply aren’t true.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

How about a sci-fi/cyberpunk au where Dabi's a cyborg and Shig's a repair technician? Maybe they're on the same spaceship crew for a job when Dabi's parts start malfunctioning. He can't seek out a cyborg specialist right now, and if Tomura is, like, weirdly good with his anatomy, that's not exactly a problem.

Or, and I hate what I'm about to say, an among us au? In the sense that there's something on board picking off the crew from the inside until only one remains

I am no going back to Among Us, I wrote my 1 Among Us fanfic and no one can make me go back! (It's on my AO3, you can look for it if you want)

Dabi was burned very badly as a child when his father wasn't paying attention to him. His mom was just recently admitted to a mental institution because of Enji's abuse and neglect, and Dabi was mucking around near one of the ships because he wanted to be an astronaut like his dad. But the engines misfired and he ended up getting so severely damaged across most of his body that resulted in him being in a coma for several years before he eventually was woken up to get most of his skin replaced with cybernetic grafts. The grafts allow him to feel temperature and pressure, though texture is spotty. They're good grafts that have made his body more 'normal' but the artificial skin that goes over top of them is inconvenient and prone to damage.

When Dabi got onto the Ingenuity crew, he knew that he wouldn't have the artificial skin for the entire trip, but he isn't happy when it's barely six months in that he's having to take it off. They have an alien on their crew, but Dabi can't help but feel like he's far more of a freak than him as he has all of the black metal of the artificial grafts exposed.

He expects to need maintenance, but he thought he would get it from their medic, he didn't know that their captain and engineer would be the one who knows the most about this kind of thing having three prosthetic fingers himself. He ends up spending long nights with Shigaraki after the end of their shifts, getting the care he needs to keep his body functioning properly.

It's entirely inappropriate that he starts to feel so hot when the other man has his hands on his skin-- artificial or not. He's doing medical procedures, but it doesn't matter, and Dabi learns that the seams where the two forms meet can start to glow blue when he starts to get too excited.

Shigaraki doesn't care though, telling Dabi they can keep these things professional, or he can show him how good his body can feel like this. It's definitely not appropriate when he gets out a small electro-wand and starts to move it along his cybernetic skin, giving Dabi little shocks that have him moaning and writhing on the table in a matter of minutes. 'Body maintenance' takes on a whole new meaning from that point on, but Dabi can't complain. He also doesn't bother to get any new skin to put over his other parts when they dock at a planet to restock their supplies.

[semisolidmind]

How did Wukong find MK and decide to adopt him?

non-spoiler answer: wukong found mk when he was small, had a rare moment of empathy, decided to adopt him and raise him as his own.

(season 4 spoilers: context taken from later episodes in the season. also bad end mk lore, ig)

spoiler answer: stone egg.

mk comes from a similar place as wukong; made from the same stone, although mk came out as a young child instead of a fully formed adult. despite having a small thought about "sparing" mk the pain of a life as a monkey demon by killing him then and there, wukong decides to adopt mk and raise him to be as strong as he can. think of it like an extra middle finger to heaven from the monkey king (that and the fact that the only person wukong ever would have felt comfortable having kids with has been dead for thousands of years and he isn't sure if she's gonna reincarnate, so mk may be his only chance at having a legacy).

i have a theory that the reason mk looks human in the show is because he saw humans when he wandered into the city, so he unconsciously changed his form to look more like them. like, the magic that created him knew he'd be safer if he looked human.

however, seeing as villain wukong decided to adopt him and raise him alongside the other monkeys of ffm from the beginning, mk's form in this au is similar to the monkey form we see in the show. he has better access to his powers that way, on top of swk actively discouraging him from looking human.

it's like the reverse of what we see in the show. mk has been raised (by wukong) to believe that humans are mostly terrible, so he should be happy being a monkey demon. when he does his gold magic glitch-out thing from the later episodes, he looks human during said glitch. it's a sort of reflection of his mental state; he's come to see himself as more human because of his exposure to mortal society and his changing ideals, but the distrustful, cautious side of him can't face that fact.

the mk of this au has some considerable differences from the normal mk. the biggest one being his skill level in combat. in this iteration, swk has been training him from day one, so that classic mk clumsiness is practically nonexistent. the kid's basically a living weapon (almost) on par with one of the greatest fighters in the world. there's an innate power and grace in his movement.

he's a lot more brutal in his fighting style as well. you get trained by a villain notorious for going all-out, you learn to not pull your punches no matter the opponent.

this is compounded by the fact that mk has his own staff. villain wukong isn't about to give up his signature weapon, and it doesn't seem like that much of a stretch to just...go steal another magic pillar from the eastern dragon palace.

"Like that old codger could stop us. C'mon, kid, let's go get you a real weapon."

another difference is mk's general attitude. sure, he's still a fairly happy kid, but he was raised to always keep his guard up. strike first, ask questions later. his first meeting with mei was an all out battle, because he didn't understand that this dragon decendent wasn't trying to hurt him. he's a bit more serious here too, and it's mei who's the upbeat one between the two of them. she's also the one that introduced him to pigsy, sandy, and tang. she's kinda his safety net as far as mortal interactions go, teaching him the ins and outs of mortal culture.

this version of mk can kick red son's ass stupidly easily. the whole dbk family, really. to the point that red son's terrified of him, though he tries to hide it behind a superior attitude. this could go for all the demons in the show, really. mk scares all of them to a certain degree.

he wouldn't reallyneed his friends help, in this au. he's got this idea in his head that he shouldn't be dragging his much less powerful friends into fights he can easily finish on his own. he's been raised with a "help yourself, because noone else will. in fact they'll be in your way" type mentality when it comes to battle.

his story in this au is more of a "allow people to get close to and care about you, not everyone is trying to kill you" arc, instead of a power-up, training arc. mk needs to learn to let people help him, and allow himself to be open.

to sum it up; mk is seen as a monster like his father, and is learning to be less of a monster. he wants to be a hero.

"I...I don't wanna be like him. I wanna be better, I want to use this power to help people, to protect them! I just...don't want to be what the world thinks I should be."

[blacklegsanjiii]

Finally got my thoughts together about Rayleigh!Sanji.

Germa is in Sabaody for some reason or another when Reiju gets Sanji out and to Shakky's Rip Off Bar with Sanji still in the helmet. Reiju bows to Rayleigh who is the only one in the bar and runs away and Rayleigh can't even argue because she's gone faster than he can recover so he looks at the kid in the helmet and sighs. He gets the helmet off with armament and looks at the starved and sunken face of the child trapped in the contraption and he's angry.

Sanji is skittish and jumpy and so fucking quiet and Rayleigh doesn't exactly know how to comfort this kid and wishes Roger were here because he would know. So they get the kid bathed and his hair brushed. Shakky asks what the plan is because someone might come looking for the kid and it's going to be even more suspicious if Dark King Rayleigh has him. They talk it over and as much as Rayleigh would like to keep the kid in one place, Sabaody is not the place to keep him.

So they set sail. The boat is small enough for them to both handle but strong enough to withstand the Grand Line. Rayleigh is wondering what to do to make money, he looks at Sanji and how scared the kid still is and tells it to Sanji plainly: that if they're going to stay together Sanji is going to have to learn to fight and be a pirate. Sanji listens and nods so Rayleigh also says they're going to need a crew. Also his bounty is going to fucking sky rocket.

They do actually manage to find some crew relatively easily, it's Rayleigh and he vets the crew as much as he can. Sanji sticks close to Rayleigh, training and everything else. He cooks with crew cook and Rayleigh sparsely lets him out of his sight. Sanji is learning quickly even if it's out of fear, not Rayleigh per say but his new life.

Rayleigh is of course right about his bounty and how it sky rockets and rocks the world that he is back. Luckily they get a new boat fit for the crew they have amassed and what's going on. They run into White Beard who looks at Rayleigh and asks why he set sail again. Rayleigh just grabs Sanji and holds him out to the fellow captain as White Beard starts yelling about his other brats. Rayleigh answers that he knows he fucked up and plans to apologize to them but look at this kid, he's a dead royal!

They party and drink and Sanji is around other kids, other brats for the first time. Rayleigh smiles as he plays and talks to other kids and tests his sword skills and everything. Rayleigh eventually grabs his brat who's about to pass out like he did when Buggy and Shanks were little. They leave with threats and promises aplenty.

Sanji isn't particularly protective of his hands after being in the New World for so long, he uses swords and is very skilled at them. He sets himself of fire. Rayleigh blinks at him and calls Shakky to ask what the fuck can set themselves on fire with no issue and she responds with a couple of options. Rayleigh sighs because yeah, okay. This tracks for him and the kids he's raised. He was never going to be dealt an easy hand and he should know that.

Rayleigh is titled an Emperor and he does his best, which is better than before but still not great, raising Sanji. They don't run into Shanks or anyone else. Sanji cooks all the time and is still just as good as he is in canon and still holds the 'if they're hungry I'll feed them' mentality because of the dungeon and how rough it was when they first set sail. They meet Ace and they talk before he leaves to fight Kaido.

They're back at Sabaody for to get news from Shakky. Sanji's bounty does list him as 'Silvers Sanji' as he heads to the auction house to watch the chaos. That new upstart from the East Blue is there and he punches a celestial dragon. Sanji chuckles to himself at the supernovas and their behavior towards one another. For some reason Rayleigh managed to get himself captured and is using his haki to knock almost everyone out and free the mermaid and the giant. Sanji calls to Rayleigh about the navy as he lights a cigarette and goes outside to greet the marines who are there. The marines widen their eyes at him as Luffy, Law and Kidd come out. He grins at them and asks if they're sure they can handle it but like no one really recognizes him because Law, Kidd and Luffy don't pay attention to other's really, especially not emperors yet.

After all that hubbub and before Kuma the Strawhats, Rayleigh and Sanji are in the bar and Sanji sits next to Rayleigh as he asks how the marines were and Sanji says 'lame as usual, always so surprised when I set on fire.' which makes Rayleigh laugh as they all talk. Afterwards they mention they're headed to Impel Down to go get Buggy which the Romance Dawn trio grits their teeth at. Sanji waves at them as they leave and the Kuma gets them.

Then the news comes out about Ace's execution and Rayleigh sighs. He can't let the kid die, it was his captain's kid and he's a pirate again. He has debts to be paid and dues to be collected when he boards the Dutchman and his crew nod and agree, they'll get Buggy and Ace. They get into Impel Down after Luffy and see the reckoning going on so they leave to head to the execution as they're putting their faith into Luffy for the moment there. They meet up with the White Beard fleet and Roger was never one for a fleet, neither is Rayleigh so when Luffy and those from Impel Down escape the war begins.

The battle rages and when Akainu goes to punch Luffy, Rayleigh interrupts, telling him to pick on someone his own size as they start fighting. When Shanks shows up as Buggy is filming everything Sanji grins as he skywalks Ace and Luffy to Marco and drops them in front of the bird man before bolting back with a salute. When Shanks lets out that huge blast of haki and ends the war for everyone to collect their dead and injured, Sanji sky walks back with Rayleigh who claims to be old for Sanji to be doing that. Ace and Luffy are staring at the blond they've both seen once as Shanks and Buggy stare wide eyed at the brat.

Sanji shrugs and lights a cigarette as he lands then introduces himself to Shanks and Buggy. Luffy asks why they didn't get here sooner and Rayleigh points at his ship which has a crew of like eleven people including him and Sanji and thanks him for getting Buggy out. They both apologize to Marco for his losses and how they couldn't protect more and Buggy interrupts to ask who the fuck the blond is and what their plan even was.

"Oh, we got news you had been sent to Impel Down so we were coming to get you." Rayleigh answers. "This is Sanji, my last brat, I didn't get a choice." Rayleigh laughs.

"I'm basically your little brother." Sanji nods as Shanks looks at Rayleigh and Buggy sighs and rubs his temples.

[kame11a]

story ideas idk what I'm doing

soooo basically I've had some ideas for some oneshots with our favourite puppet in my mind for a few weeks now. Buuuuuut since I propably won't have the time nor the skill to write them, I will just leave the ideas here.

Feel free to use these ideas if you feel like writing a whole story to them (but tag me because I want to read them >:) )

(also excuse any spelling mistakes, English isn't my first language)

After some time had passed, a few more people seeked refuge within the safe (more or less) walls of Hotel Krat. Among them, some children. The reader, a rather young adult themselfes (maybe freshly graduated from school/college before the franzy happened) spend some time with the children, giving them small teaching sessions based on their basic knowledge which they had gathered from school and their notes they still had in their bag. Pinocchio noticed that and at some point listened to their "class", after all he also has got a lot to learn since he is not a human and fights all day long. (Now imagen a whole grown ass man (puppet) sitting with a bunch of children on the ground infront of the reader who uses a small chalkboard (which they found in the library), listening to them explaining the basics of idk fotosynthesis or something like that).

2. This one is simple, just P with a reader who like to bake. Simple. Whenever the puppet returns from a mission, the hotel is filled with a pleasant scent of chocolate, cinnamon or vanilla, while everyone is already munching on some cookies or small pastries (can you imagen how cute Sophia must look while nibbling on a cookie, trying not to get any crumbs onto the carpet? :')). The reader themselfs also smells like chocolate or whatever all the time since they just spend all day preparing food and other stuff for their friends in the hotel (it is their way of thanking everyone for letting them seek refuge there).

bonus: since P propably isn't able to eat, at least not while he is a puppet, the reader keeps a small notebook containing all the food/desserts Pinocchio would like to try once he is able to (kind of like Al from fmab if yk). Until then he eventually helps the reader in the kitchen, even if most of the time he only watches since he has no idea what to do

3. This one is kinda angst/comfort stuff idk. Also kind of a sensitiv topic so if anybody feels offended by this please tell me and I will delete it!!!

Basically the whole events happening in Krat took a great toll on the readers mental health. Sadly, they were the only one from their family/friendgroup who was able to survive the attack, living now in the hotel with other refugees. Nightmares and guilt haunted them day and night as they constantly had to think about these horrific events, giving themselfs the fault for not being able to safe their loved ones. This kind of behaviour caused them to completly loose themselfs, now only being numb to everything, not finding any reasons to do anything. If they could decide, they would just like to stop existing. Thats when your boy appears. Let's say he is in his mid/latestage of becoming a human (yk like with his hair grown out n stuff). Him and the reader knew eachother for quite some time, since the reader was one of the first people to appear in the hotel, somewhat helping him to achieve his goal in becoming more human (like explaining emotions and other human things to him). Pinocchio also draggs them along when he discovers something new. Wether he did it intentionally or not, he helped the reader to fall in love with being alive again with his behaviour of basically acting like a small child who sees the world for the first time. Dancing in the rain while feeling the small raindrops gently touching their skin, watching small insects in the garden together, listening to the soft tunes of the gramophone in the entrance hall, playing with Spring, you name it.

4. This one is for ma boys Romeo and Carlo, so basically before everything happened (or in an AU where they survived and just lived their normal lifes... idk). So my first idea for them was just some tales from their school life, back at the Monad Charity House. You know, basic teenager/young adult stuff; studying together, training together, doing stupid shit in class together, always eating together at the same table in the dining hall, sneaking out together to hang out in the city, and much more.

I guess this would be a perfect crack oneshot/drabble

5. the second idea is a bit more romantic. Idk how I came up with this (I am delusional), but I thought about the reader attending another boarding school in Krat, which holds a close relationshiop to the Monad Charity House, Carlo and Romeo live in. Therefore, there are several events the two school hold together like a sports festival or something like that. Another one of these events are the grand balls which both schools host. It is their intention to a) establish more contacts and relationships among the studends and b) for them to also learn how to dance, eat and behave in a more formal way at social gatherings. So at one of these balls, the reader meets Romeo and Carlo and gets to know them better. Since I think it would be easier to write for only one of them (correct me if I am wrong), one could add the best friend of the reader who then gets to go with the options the reader did not choose (does that make sense?). For example, the reader and Carlo get rather close, shyly asking each other if they would like to dance or go outside to talk more, while the readers best friend does the same with Romeo (very stereotypical, I know). Maybe the Romeo x best friend combination would tease the hell out of Carlo and the reader since I view Romeo as the kind of person, to drob teasing comments here and there while being the biggest flirt himself and Carlo is one of the people, who on the outside also try to be like Romeo, but in reality are a complete mess when it comes to romance and stuff (yet again, only how I imagen them). (Have I already mentioned that I am delusional?)

so yeah these are my ideas which I will just leave here. As I already said, feel free to take them and do your own thing with them ( but I wanna see the result :)))) ). Also feel free to add your own ideas/inspirations to them

also this is my first real post here so go easy on me haha idk what I am doing here but for now I will be your "Fanfiction/oneshot-idea-dealer"

:)

[ghostlyaerobics1984]

What If YOU were the killer…?

Summary: Being Ethan Landry’s sibling, you were also dragged into your father’s psychotic plan. But it was too late for you to repent for your sins. You have caused a lot of damage, fatal wounds, and the Carpenter sisters were pissed off at your entire family.

Word Count: 2,445

Parings: Tara Carpenter x Gn!Reader, Tara Carpenter x Male!Reader

Author’s note: I guess ghostface!reader isn’t exactly a new idea, but I wanted to write Reader as morally gray instead of the hero of the story.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, murder, and cussing.

You ran after witnessing your older brother, Ethan, choking on a knife.

It wasn’t intentional on his part. Tara Carpenter had shoved the sharp edge of the weapon through the roof of his mouth.

Honestly, she was torturing him. It was not suitable for the weak-minded to watch.

You weren’t weak per say. You were just the youngest of the family.

Hence, you basically got everything handed to you on a silver platter.

You were most similar to Ethan in the shy, reserved, and introverted aspect.

Quinn and Richie were the more outspoken siblings. They weren’t afraid to try new ideas outside of their comfort zone.

Richie was the favorite child, but ever since he was murdered, your father made an effort to pay more attention to you.

Although, killing people was not a healthy, bonding activity for any type of relationship.

You didn’t need to learn that from a therapist because, unlike your family, you were sane.

You really didn’t belong here. The irony of it all? You applied to colleges in New York to pursue your own dreams, months before Wayne Bailey contacted you.

And here you were.

In the past, you spoke about your passion for helping others, and the “Core Four” took the bait.

They thought you were less likely to snap and murder people if you didn’t have a preexisting mental illness.

Try having a dad who’s present, but not really—because he’s neglectful to you and your siblings.

And it’s like none of his other children mattered to him because his son died.

It was all Bailey’s fault. He admitted to encouraging Richie’s obsession for gory, slasher films.

He could be honest about that, but in the same breath, he accused Sam and Tara of being the villains behind it all.

Which was even more ironic.

He was the reason your family split apart.

Richie replaced his family with film bros. He left home to create his own projects and never left a second glance.

During his absence, your family became dysfunctional. When the news of his death circulated, you were further estranged from your family members.

So, why were you here?

Truthfully, you couldn’t muster up the courage stand up to your father. You didn’t hold a delusion-based grudge against Sam and Tara.

Prior to the time you stabbed your first victim in New York, your friendship with Tara had begun to blossom, and you felt a genuine connection to her.

It was real to you.

She was heartbroken beyond belief when you revealed yourself as one of the Ghostface killers.

Considering that, after the big reveal, Tara’s vengeful attitude was directed specifically towards you, the friendship was probably real for her as well.

Okay, you had a hand in murdering Chad. But, in your defense, you were coerced into the act. And… he did get annoying at times.

Like your brother said, he was an egotistical jock literally named Chad.

You hid yourself in a corner far away from all the fighting and killing. Hoping, if you made yourself as small as possible, no one would find you.

No one. Not Kirby, Sam, or Tara. Including your family—if any of them somehow survived, that is.

You hugged your knees to your chest and waited it out.

There was an ear-shattering crash. Then, the theater was filled with silence for a while.

During that period of stillness, your heart beat loudly against your rib cage. If you didn’t know any better, you would think your heartbeat was exposing you.

But if you did get busted, it would be because you hid in plain sight.

Maybe, if you told them the truth about your situation, they would understand. Maybe you would be spared.

Wait, that’s not a bad idea. You could spin the story to work in your favor.

You heard muffled speaking, and what sounded like distant footsteps.

You didn’t catch much of what was going on. It was hard to differentiate the noises when they were all one big jumble.

You recognized the pained cries from your father, and the all-too-familiar sound that came from stabbing someone in the flesh.

He was facing the brunt of the sisters’ wrath now.

You didn’t want to be next.

A gunshot was fired, nearly startling you out of your position because of how unexpected and loud it was. Wayne Bailey had gone quiet.

Sam and Tara were having a conversation. They spoke a little louder, so you were able to eavesdrop.

“We survived.” Sam said.

“I’m sorry…” Tara was apologizing. “I haven’t been nice to you lately.”

“No, it’s okay. I know I haven’t been giving you the space you need. But that’s going to change.”

A laugh from Tara. “We are getting a lot of therapy after this.”

“Yeah.” Sam agreed.

There was a beat of silence.

You held your breath, desperately wishing they forgot about you. Your heartbeat was racing because of how anxious you were.

Then, Tara asked the question you dreaded most.

“Where’s y/n?”

“I don’t know.” Confusion was laced in Sam’s tone. “We didn’t kill them?”

They were on the hunt, searching for you.

“No, I would’ve remembered if I did. Y/n betrayed my fucking trust. I’m going to show them how much it hurts.” Tara uttered that statement with complete seriousness, your heart plummeted to the pit of your stomach.

“I won’t get in the way. Y/n is all yours.”

You pressed yourself further into the wall, but there wasn’t much you could do to hide at this point.

Unless.

Based on the volume of their ongoing conversation, Sam and Tara still seemed nowhere near you.

So. It was a long shot, but you pushed yourself up into a crouching position, and tiptoed your way toward a more concealed hiding place.

You thought the universe was shining down upon you, that you were destined to escape from the ending your family suffered through.

Oh, how wrong you were.

You wanted to avoid crossing paths with Sam and Tara, and yet, you almost collided into them.

“Don’t you dare touch us.”

Tara brandished a knife covered in dried blood. It gleamed in the light.

She was not in the mood to be tested.

You let out a surprised yell, stumbled backwards, and raised your hands in surrender. “Please don’t kill me!”

Tara was glaring at you. She refused to lower her guard, and the knife.

There was a snarl on her lips. The same unhinged look you had seen when she ruthlessly stabbed Ethan.

Sam crossed her arms. “Why shouldn’t we?”

Like Tara, she was just as skeptical, but at least she pretended to give you the benefit of the doubt.

Your eyes darted from Tara to Sam.

Figured you were living on borrowed time, so you spilled what they didn’t learn from your dad’s revenge monologue. “Detective Bailey, my father, he was manipulative.”

You clenched your jaw, feeling a hot flash of anger surge through your body. “He didn’t care about us. It was always, ‘Richie this, Richie that.’ I was the baby in my family, do you know how much that affected me?”

Neither of them were interrupting you, so you continued on, “I know, there’s no excuse for teaming up with my selfish father. But he threatened to carve me up if I didn’t help avenge Richie. They kept telling me that I would be the family’s disappointment.”

Part of your sob story was a lie. Bailey never threatened to kill you, but to get out of this alive, you had to sell the act.

You were more cunning than you gave yourself credit for.

Tara’s posture relaxed, and she no longer pointed the knife at you. Instead, she let it relax by her side.

As for Sam, her expression changed from pure cynicism to sadness. It seemed like your story hit close to home.

“Please understand. My dad and siblings, they made me kill.”

Taking several steps back, your hands remained where they could be seen.

The knife was hidden in your sleeve, anyway.

Sam and Tara followed your every move. They weren’t allowing you to run from them.

“Your dad was an asshole.” Tara tilted her head, observing you curiously. “Ethan, too.”

The sisters shared a look as if they knew something you didn’t.

“Quinn was a bitch.” Sam added to her sister’s previous comment.

For some reason, you got a vague sense that they were deliberately provoking you.

“Ethan boasted about killing Chad, and it felt so goddamn cathartic to get rid of his fucking mouth.”

Tara laughed, but there was a lack of emotion. No remorse. Nothing.

She wasn’t sorry at all.

You couldn’t help but grow uneasy. Sam and Tara’s insults about your family shouldn’t have bothered you as much as it did.

But they struck a nerve. Especially Tara’s offhand remark about deriving enjoyment from your brother’s murder.

The words slipped out faster than you could stop them. “Fuck you.”

“Funny, Ethan said the same thing.” Tara replied coldly. Whatever sympathy she had left just dissipated.

“Hate to break it you, but you aren’t the first Ghostface to fake a sob story.” Sam smiled.

It wasn’t a kind smile.

It was the malicious and calculating type. A smile that conveyed the message: Your ass is dead.

“What do you mean? I’m telling you the truth!” You tempted to shout, but decided it was best for your sake to keep an even tone.

“How do we know? Like Richie and Ethan, you’re a fucking traitor and a pathological liar.” Tara spat.

The aggression was clear in her voice.

Lowering your hand, the knife’s handle slid right into your palm. You gripped it discreetly.

If the opportunity presented itself—and it would—You were going to be ready.

You really should’ve been paying attention to where you were walking, though.

The heels of your feet bumped into something hard.

You swayed backwards, arms flailing around as you tried to control your balance.

Unlucky for you, Tara didn’t hesitate to take advantage of that split second where you were preoccupied.

She took a fistful of your shirt collar and yanked you forward with surprising momentum; You nearly choked.

If you were brought any closer to her, the two of you would be kissing.

Tara’s free hand slid to the nape of your neck, keeping you rooted to the spot without any leeway to escape.

Tara leaned in, lips moving as she said, “Now die like your fucking family.”

Your face felt hot from an influx of anger and shame.

Ashamed that you were defeated so easily.

Furious at your siblings and father for putting you in this situation.

Still wielding your knife, you cocked your arm and thrust rapidly. You intended to stab her before she did it to you.

An unpleasant squelching filled your ears.

Your knife slipped out of your hand and bounced onto the floor.

A maniacal grin spread on Tara's face; She forced the knife deeper into you, and the hilt of it pressed against your skin.

Intense, grueling pain flared in your stomach. It coursed throughout your body, causing your limbs to weaken.

Your mouth had fallen open. The only reason you were still upright was because of Tara.

Then, your legs gave out once the knife was withdrawn. You were sent into a kneeling position, hitting the hard floor.

Tara craned her neck to address her sister, who was just standing aside and watching you suffer. "This part brings back memories."

After those words left her mouth, Tara faced you, lifted her foot, and she kicked you down.

You cried out in pain as you fell on your back.

You tried to curl into a fetal position, but Tara situated herself on top of you, purposefully placing all of her weight on the deep cut in your stomach.

You moaned begrudgingly at the pressure, feeling more of your blood ooze out.

Raising the knife above her head, Tara glanced over her shoulder at Sam.

You knew why.

She was asking if murdering you was really worth it.

Would she be willing to face the psychological consequences if she sent herself over the edge and released all of her unbridled rage on you?

Her hesitance almost refilled you with hope.

Sam must’ve given her the answer she needed because—at lightning speed—Tara was plunging the knife into your torso once, then twice.

And she didn’t show any signs of stopping.

You shrieked in agony, yelped, and flinched each time the knife pierced your flesh.

Blocking off her attacks with your arms, you whimpered, “Stop, please!”

As if granting you one last act of mercy, Tara faltered.

Your breathing was shaky. Multiple stab wounds were littered across your chest and stomach.

Blood from these wounds seeped through the holes made in your shirt.

“I’m…” It was hard to speak because of how much pain you were in. “I’m sorry that I hurt you and made you feel like I deserve this.”

Droplets of tears flowed from your eyes and you whined like a baby, “I don’t want to die!”

Tara peered down at you with a glossy look in her eyes. “I know you don’t.”

You continued to cry; You felt miserable, cold, and your body was damp and shivering from blood loss.

She lifted your head.

You were really losing your mind, because for a second, you thought the gesture was meant to be comforting.

Well, that lasted until Tara spoke again. “Chad also didn’t want to die, but you killed him.”

You were struck with the realization that, in spite of your efforts to tug on her heartstrings, she was still as pissed off as ever.

Your eyes widened, and you blurted out a random motive that came to mind, “Crime of passion? I am madly in love with y—”

“No, stop.” She shook her head, brows furrowed in confusion.

Your hopes of surviving diminished like hot air from a popped balloon. You sighed, wincing as sharp pain shot through your stomach, and lolled your head to the side.

“It’s over.” Tara interjected, before you had a chance to come up with another dumb excuse.

You didn’t understand what she meant.

It’s over?

Was she letting you off the hook? Or, were you going to be thrown in prison?

Turns out, it was neither of those options.

The knife was held to your larynx.

And without another word, Tara sliced your throat open.

Your vision went black after that.

Sam and Tara Carpenter overlooked two factors when they left the old theater that was reinvented into a Ghostface shrine.

1. Chad survived.

2. They forgot to shoot you in the head.

[hyatoro]

Kayden Nguyen

Psychic!Yandere (x Psychic!Reader)

He is specifically paired with a Psychic!Reader in all situations.

Vietnamese Name: Bảo Nguyễn

American Name: Kayden Nguyen

Appearance: 5’9”, Long black hair that’s usually tied up, golden eyes, tan, wears thin breathable layers, medium build. (Picrew Image at bottom)

Setting: US suburbs

Post about his and reader’s Psychic Powers

Kayden is a Vietnamese-American who gained his psychic powers at birth. He was really fussy as a child, but that was because he was constantly overstimulated, having been born in the city. As he grew up his body adjusted and managed to suppress his mind reading so that it’d be limited to a certain area. Like he can expand and shrink the range of his mind reading. 

His parents thought he was super creepy as a child, and hushed him numerous times to stop being annoying and to stop pretending he knew stuff. He quickly learned that if he stopped sharing what he was feeling that his parents treated him better. Because he wasn’t spouting all this freaky predicting stuff that maybe it was just a phase and that they do have a normal child that was just a bit weird in the early stages. He got really good at pretending he was okay. 

Kayden chose his name from a name book when he got to 2nd grade, because a lot of the kids had a hard time pronouncing his name correctly. When he got mad at them they would then pester him on how to actually pronounce it. He got sick and tired of it so he just chose a new name. In the present day he likes both his names equally. So don’t come asking me about preferences using his “real” name or any of that nonsense. They’re both his names. Only introduces himself as Kayden nowadays unless he’s talking to family or family friends who are also Vietnamese. If he finds out you’re also Viet/know Viet then he’ll tell you his Viet name freely. Otherwise you’d have to ask if his parents named him Kayden and then he’d tell you his birth name. 

When he hit middle school his family moved to the suburbs, finally having the money to do so. This soothed him significantly. Their new home was decently large, having plenty of space between them and the neighbors. On days where it was just him at home he’d actually have some mental peace and quiet without the strain of having to keep his psychic aura bubble in check.

He went to college online, and developed a really strong online life. It’s how he interacts with people in a way that feels normal. The same way that everyone else does. 

He’s not a total shut-in however, having to go places to run errands and whatnot, but he keeps that to the lower end of the spectrum. He’s grateful to live in an age where so many things are contactless, but knows that he needs sunlight or he’ll go crazy in a different way. 

Likes drinking beer a lot. Not in a party animal way but because it eases his mind and lets him relax. Likes drinking with his dad at the dinner table.

One day when he’s out and about, probably getting a physical copy of a game on the release day, he meets you. He can shrink the area of his mind reading range a decent amount, but he can still get overwhelmed in these small crowded stores where everyone is touching shoulders. 

As he mentally braces himself he walks in when he exhales. And nothing. There’s nothing. 

Not nothing, he can still hear and see and everything else, but he can’t hear anyone’s chittering thoughts. How?

He zeroes in on you. He knows it’s because of you because all the scattered energy is sinking into you like a void. What? 

Then you make eye contact with him and he can’t breathe. He’s staring at you like you’re some anomaly and that’s because to him you are. 

You’re staring at him to size him up. And you soon realize he’s like you. Only much more inexperienced. 

The difference between you two is that you had honed your skills so much more, becoming capable of doing other things with your psychic abilities other than just mind-reading. You give him an understanding smile. 

He is startled and at first takes mild offense, because who the fuck do you think you are?

Then you’re next in line and get your game. 

You leave ahead of him and he’s torn for a moment. Game? You? The choice is obvious. He chases after you. He can get another copy another time. You? He doesn’t know if he can find you again. 

Luckily for him you were waiting outside the store. It wasn’t hard to figure out that he’d want to talk to you. You greet him casually and he looks at you like his world view just got flipped. 

You give him the time he needs to pick his jaw off the floor before waving for him to follow you to a park bench across the street from the game store. He follows promptly, eyes darting around as he’s unsure of what’s happening. 

The mental silence is still actively happening and he has no idea how to react to it other than apprehension. When he finally sits down next to you, you introduce yourself. He does the same, introducing himself as Kayden.

You sit in silence waiting for him to speak. He stammers before taking a deep breath. 

"How? How do you do that?" He finally musters out. 

"The thing where you neutralize everyone's thoughts," he clarifies. 

You give him the gist of it. How you practiced because everything was so noisy. And how you learned to do other things. 

You're already aware that no one is paying attention to you two, so you hold your hand out and the pebbles from the ground fly to your palm. They're big enough that he can't blame the wind, though you can tell he's far from a skeptic. He’s looking at you in awe, like you just showed him how to clear a level by glitching through the walls. Literally unlocked an entire world to him. 

 Basically you explain to him that you were like him in the past, but decided to branch out to see what you were really capable of. Because I said psychic, not just mind-reading. 

You exchange numbers and plan to meet occasionally. In the times between, for the first time in his life, he actually tries to do all the cool psychic stuff he’s heard of. Despite being a clear example of the supernatural he figured that it was a case of grandeur and illusion. Like where you look at something and are like “haha thats cool but not how it works irl.” 

But it does. It works bud. He just never tried. Part of it was fear of being further ostracized by his family. He loves and cares about them, but he remembers how awful they made him feel when he was open about his powers as a kid. 

It becomes this mentorship where you’re guiding him how to better control his powers and he quickly becomes obsessed. You’re the only two that you two know that are like this. You weren’t as recluse as he was and you still note how he’s the first one you’ve met that shares these powers. 

He’s eternally grateful that you’ve shown him a better way to live and he idolizes you. He doesn’t dread going out anymore and he loves going out with you. Even simple errands have him scrambling for a decent outfit. 

You only negate the thoughts of people within a certain vicinity, kind of like a low battery function. One time when the two of you were together you left his side, which is fine, but he wasn’t on top of his shit so a flurry of thoughts rushed in, but one notable one was some dude eyeing you big time. He didn’t know where that hot flash of rage came from. Kayden zeroes in on this dude’s thoughts and basically screams at him with his own mind, not realizing what he’s doing, and it works. Huh? The dude’s thoughts do a 180 and silence themselves. Not in the way where he can’t hear them, or that they’re getting negated by you. It turns into white noise and he can breathe again. 

He didn’t realize he was holding his breath. 

You come back with your food orders and he flashes you a smile. 

You look at him funny, and he shivers as he feels the calming aura of you reaching into his mind, asking him if he’s alright. He loved it when you did this. It was so intimate, you were literally in his head, and it was something he knew no one else could do. 

He responds with an “I am now.” Because it’s true. It was just a momentary distraction. But you’re here now and everything is alright. It’s always alright when he’s with you. 

In a chill setting he mostly uses his new psychic powers to keep people away from you via tripping, mind redirection, etc. 

If things get bad, then he’s not above exerting himself to put a person into a coma. Literally can’t be traced back to him, and he doesn’t have any blood on his hands. 

Would never hurt you intentionally. Would never even try to control you (ever again). Because there was one time when he was getting riled up, frustrated that he couldn’t get this technique down when it was supposedly simpler than all the other stuff he’s learned, and when you tried to calm him he lashed out big time, mentally and physically yelling at you to shut up and fuck off. 

You heard him. You felt it. You felt that wave of that hint of psychic control that you were familiar with, but had promised you wouldn’t do to him. So when he did it to you in this burst of rage you were stunned. He immediately knew exactly what he did and lost the wind in his sails. Even though he hadn’t promised the same thing back at the time, since he wasn’t able to do that back then, he knew that it was an unspoken agreement. 

Regret and shame smack him fast and hard as he crumples to the ground, groveling in apology. 

You, after many deep breaths, manage to be the bigger person. Because it was clear that he had never done this before so he didn’t know how it felt to use that particular power. So you heave one final sigh and look at him, telling him to get up and that it’s fine. But you make sure he knows that this isn’t some three-strike system and that if he ever tries that shit again you will let him know what hell feels like. 

He thanks you and apologizes again, going to a nearby convenience store and getting you some snacks. And it works. You two eat your snacks and the tension is diffused. 

Kayden throws a mental block up against you as he wonders why your anger was kinda hot in hindsight. Hates it when you’re mad at him though. So he can only hope to be around when someone else pisses you off. 

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