#but then with my topic there was no way i could do more like. i don't have the capacity to analyse the statistical data from china

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 62 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley could tell how important it was to you, so he spent the morning after the wedding night helping you fill out adoption paperwork. Christmas was fast approaching, as was your next appointment, and he had never seen Noah so happy before. He'd never been this happy before either.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

You spent the day after your wedding snuggled up on the couch with Bradley and Skittles, reading over the adoption paperwork one last time before signing everything. "You're officially Noah's stepmom now," Bradley whispered as you watched the swirl of ink from the pen turn into your signature. You still wanted to change your last name, but this was the most important thing to you. This was what you wanted the most right now.

"I just want to be his mom."

He kissed your ear, the deep rumble of his laughter making you smile. "You've been that for a while, Princess."

"Yeah, but for real though," you said, turning to look back at him as you sat perched on his lap. "Once this gets approved, which could still take weeks even though they will probably waive all of the inspection protocols, I'll change my last name. Then we can pay to have an updated adoption certificate where we all have the same last name."

He nodded and gently turned you to face him. "We'll drop your adoption paperwork off tomorrow with the county clerk. Tracy said it's all in order. And then we get to find out about this little one."

You kissed him while he caressed your belly. "And then it will be Christmas."

"Like my Christmas in July birthday party," he murmured against your lips. His mustache was rough and perfect, and soon he was untying the drawstring of your lounge pants. "You feel like giving me a few minutes of your time, Mrs. Bradshaw? Before our son gets home from Penny's?"

He helped you out of your pants and your underwear, and you whispered, "I guess this is our honeymoon," with a little laugh.

"Nah," he grunted as he yanked his sweatpants down until his thick cock was free and bobbing against his thigh. He met your eyes as you took him in both of your hands. "I already told you, we can go anywhere you want next year. Just me and you."

When you lined him up with your opening, you took him inch by inch listening to his deep groan as he slowly filled you up. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek as you felt yourself fluttering softly around him. "Is this okay?" you whispered without moving your hips, even though you could tell by his eyes that he loved it. "If we just do this for a few minutes?"

"Keep me warm, Princess."

You kissed your way from his lips to his mustache and along his jaw. He smelled and tasted so familiar, you never wanted to stop touching him. You never wanted his hands to stop their gentle exploration of your hips and belly. Your fingers found their way to his hair as you said, "We should get Noah a Christmas tree. We could put it in the corner next to the front window."

"Absolutely, Baby," he whimpered as you clenched softly while keeping yourself still. "We can pick out some presents for him, too."

You weren't sure how you already felt like you were going to come when you weren't even moving, but the desperation in his voice and the brush of his rough hairs against our clit were sending you there. "Let's get him a bike with training wheels," you moaned while he pulled your shirt up and over your head. "Watching you teach him how to ride it would be so hot, Daddy."

And what that, he scooped you up so gently and held you to his chest with his cock still buried deep. He eased you down onto the floor while you clung to him, and he set you down next to the snag in the area rug. His big body was pressed to yours, but you knew he'd never hurt you. The pressure was delicious, but it was never too much against your belly.

Bradley kissed your breasts, thrusting with deep, long strokes and holding your hands above your head. "Call me Daddy again."

"Daddy," you gasped as he pulled your nipple between his teeth before sucking on it. "You're my Daddy."

"Mmm, that's right," he rasped, kissing his way up to your lips. "And what does Daddy do for you?" You were panting, your arms pinned in place as he kept his thrusts even and steady. "Tell me."

"Anything I want!" you cried out, your gaze on the snagged rug as he pressed his mouth to your ear.

"Anything you want. Do you want to come?"

Your voice was lighter than air as you said, "Yes." Because you were already there. "Yes." 

You came on his cock while he braced his hands on either side of your head, his face turning red as he fucked you a little faster. When you reached up to run your fingers along his cheek, still gripping him as you orgasmed, he kissed your wrist. "I love you, Mrs. Bradshaw."

You and he were still finishing when you heard a car door slam outside, and he was still inside your pussy when there was a knock on the front door. You started giggling as he whispered, "Perfect timing," before picking you up again. He set you down on your feet, scooped up your clothing and swatted at your rear end while his cum dripped down your thighs. "Go get dressed, and I'll let them in."

You pranced off toward the bedroom, calling out in a singsong voice, "Don't forget your cock is still hanging out."

"Thank you," he replied as you giggled more and made a pitstop in the bathroom. You could already hear Noah asking for you. You could hear him telling Bradley he made you macaroni art. You couldn't wait to adopt him.

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

"You don't need me here. You know that, right?" Tracy asked as she cracked open a Red Bull and looked at the adoption paperwork. 

You gave Bradley a miserable look as he collected you into his arms. You were nervous, afraid somebody would find something wrong with the forms you and he filled out together. So he called Tracy first thing on Monday morning and asked her to come to the clerk's office and look over everything. He offered to pay her double her hourly rate.

"I panicked," you whispered, barely loud enough for Bradley and Tracy to hear you. "I want this to go off without a hitch."

Tracy sighed and smiled softly. "Here, hold this," she said, thrusting her drink into Bradley's hand as she flipped through the pages. "You've got proof of marriage. Proof of citizenship. Proof of Noah's birth mother being incarcerated and losing custody of him." She looked up and added, "You're welcome for that one."

Bradley laughed in the quiet hallway before pulling himself together while you tried to cover his mouth. "Bradley, shh!"

"It's all in order," Tracy eventually said, handing the papers back to you and snatching up her Red Bull. "It's perfect."

"Thank you, Tracy," you whispered. Bradley watched you hug her while she tried not to spill the drink on her suit or on you, and his heart swelled with love. This was so important to you. Noah and he were both so important to you. He'd never been a priority like this before, not since his mom died. And now Noah was thriving with you in their lives.

"I brought my checkbook," he said, reaching to pull it out of the back pocket of his uniform pants. "Double for the hour?"

Tracy shook her head as you finally released her. "Consider it another wedding gift. And happy holidays."

You had tears in your eyes as she walked away. "We need to send her a case of Red Bull. Two cases. Three! Order them when you order Noah's bike."

"Okay," he laughed. "I will. Now let's hand this in so we can make it official as soon as possible."

You yanked open the door to the clerk's office and waited in the short line with Bradley right behind you. When you got to the front, you stated your name and what you were there for. "I want to adopt my stepson." The words were so important to you and to him, and your voice shook with emotion while the clerk collected the paperwork and your fingerprints. And that was it. Three minutes later, and you were in the parking lot with your arms wrapped around Bradley's neck.

"Are you okay, Baby?" he asked while you cried.

"Yeah," you said as your voice broke. "But I just want to go home and color my Princess book with Noah. I don't know if I can wait several weeks to hear back about this. I'll never make it."

He hooked his fingers under your chin and whispered, "Time will fly by. Tomorrow is a big day."

Your bright smile left him breathless. "We get to find out about the baby."

He nodded and guided you so your back was pressed to the Bronco. "I can't wait to find out if I'm painting the nursery blue or purple."

"Daddy," you laughed, bouncing in place a little bit. "Noah is going to be the best big brother either way."

"He can pass down your ants on logs recipe to number two," he whispered, and you laughed harder. 

"He can teach the baby that only one of us can be trusted in the kitchen."

"I resent that," Bradley said with a smile as he leaned in close and kissed you as you giggled. "I need to get to work. You'll pick Noah up later?"

"Yes."

"And you'll start dinner?"

"Well I'm certainly not going to let you do it."

Bradley glared at you playfully. "I was going to suggest we take Noah to pick out a little spruce tree for the living room after we eat, but perhaps not."

"Perhaps yes!" you insisted. "It's happening!"

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

You barely slept on Monday night, too excited by the smell of the fresh tree in the living room and the excitement bubbling up inside you whenever you thought about your appointment. You curled up in Bradley's arms, enjoying the warmth he always gave you, and you let him sleep while you thought about raising two kids in this perfect house.

As soon as your alarm chimed, you were shaking your husband awake and straddling his hips. "Daddy. It's baby day!"

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and grimaced in response. "What time is it?"

"Time to go see the baby," you whispered loudly, and now Skittles was up and pawing at the bed. "Come on."

"You know," he groaned, "for someone who doesn't care if we're having a boy or a girl, you're really excited right now."

"I just want to know," you whined, leaning down to kiss him along his stubble. "And then we can decorate the tree and order presents online later."

Bradley sat up with you all over him. "I don't even have any decorations for the tree, Baby."

You weren't deterred in the least. "Noah and I are going to make them. And I guess you can help, too."

"Your generosity amazes me," he whispered before kissing you so well, you wanted to push him back down onto the bed, but you pulled away instead.

"Stop trying to distract me. Let's get Noah ready so we can go."

When the three of you eventually dropped him off at preschool, you greeted Casey with a bright smile. She only focused on Noah and Bradley, but you didn't even care about her shitty attitude anymore. "Have a nice day, Casey!" You managed to get a scowl in return.

Bradley chuckled as you yanked him back to the Bronco. "Why did you have to instigate with her?"

"I was being nice!" you insisted as he started driving to your appointment. "It's not entirely her fault that you're hot and Noah is sweet. The Bradshaw boys are tempting."

He shook his head and said, "The Bradshaw boys are a mess. Or we were. Not anymore, I suppose." Your husband reached for your hand while he drove. You played with his fingers, absolutely buzzing with excitement. You had to keep reminding yourself that he'd already been through all of these things before when Meredith was pregnant with Noah, but he surprised you when he parked at the medical complex.

"Let's go, Daddy," you said, shoving his hand back at him so you could climb out, but he held on tight. When you looked back at him, his face looked serious. "What's wrong?"

All he said was, "Thank you." When you shrugged and scooted closer to him with a puzzled look on your face, he added, "Thank you for never shutting me out."

You didn't ask him to elaborate. You knew he'd been underappreciated in the past, and you'd grown enough to realize that you had been as well. Part of the appeal of being with an older man was knowing you were valued, and that was never going to change. But he surprised you again when you checked in for your appointment with his arm wrapped around your lower back, because he leaned in and whispered, "I wasn't there for Noah's anatomy scan. This is... I guess... I didn't realize how much shit I missed out on with him until this time around."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

As a nurse led you up to the exam room, he said, "I'm telling you now, Princess. Every day with you is exciting, because you let me show you how much I love you. How much I love all three of you."

There were still some tears in your eyes as Bradley stood next to you, holding your hand while the technician performed the scan. You were mesmerized by the images of tiny hands and feet on the monitor that was mounted to the wall. The soft shape of your baby moving around slightly was almost too much for your heart to handle, but then you were asked the question, "Do you want to know the sex?"

You looked up at Bradley, and you kept your eyes focused on him. "Go ahead, Daddy," you coaxed as he brushed his thumb along your knuckles. 

"Yeah," he rasped, voice deep with excitement. "We want to know."

His brown eyes lit up as you heard the words, "It's a girl." Then your husband's lips came crashing to yours while you were still processing everything. A little girl? First you got to be around to raise Noah, and you got to have a little girl, too?

"Bradley," you gasped when he released your lips. "A girl."

He was nodding, impossibly handsome in his uniform as his smile grew wider. "A purple nursery is it. She's gonna love the color just like her Mommy." You pulled him in for another kiss and another one, and you weren't sure why you thought you couldn't do this. You could handle anything with this man.

"I can't wait to tell Noah," you told him as tears blurred your vision.

Bradley kissed your forehead. "Can we tell him tonight? After I get home from work?"

"That would make me so happy."

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

You were bubbling with excitement when Bradley got home that evening, and it was clearly rubbing off on Noah. The house smelled like dinner and fresh baked cookies, and there was already a strand of colorful lights on the Christmas tree. There was even some music playing. The area rug was littered with colorful bits of construction paper and two pairs of scissors, and in an instant, Bradley had you and his son in his arms while Skittles barked for attention.

"Can we tell him?" you asked softly, pushing Noah's hair back from his forehead. "I want to tell him."

Your eyes were bright, and you looked so young with your bump pressed to Bradley's hip. "You don't want to wait until after dinner?" he teased, already knowing he'd agree to anything you said. A little pout found your lips, and he kissed it away.

"I want us to tell him now," you said, chasing him for another kiss. "Please?"

Bradley scooped Noah up into his arms, and he pointed at the tree. "Mommy let me pick the colorful lights, because we are making colorful decorations." Then Bradley noticed that there were already a few construction paper candy canes and gingerbreads tucked into the tree branches.

"Looks good, Bub," he said, kissing his son's cheek before sinking down to the floor amidst the mess with Noah on his lap. He looked up at you and patted his thigh as he said, "Mommy wants to tell you something special."

You sucked in a breath as your eyes went wider, and Bradley helped you down onto the floor at his side. "You want me to tell him?" you asked, one hand coming to rest on his thigh as you brushed your fingers along Noah's cheek. Bradley looked at his son who was always well loved and happy now; he had a dad who was trying his best and a mom who more than made up the deficit. 

"Yeah. You tell him, Princess."

"What?" Noah asked, his brown eyes reflecting the multicolored lights. "What, Mommy?"

You bit your lip and made an adorable noise before you said, "Sweet Noah, remember how we said this week was an exciting one because I'm going to adopt you? Well it's even more exciting, because we found out a few hours ago that the baby is a girl. You'll have a little sister soon!"

He stared at you for a beat before looking at Bradley, and then he asked, "Can we make her a crown, too?"

"Oh," you whispered, tears filling your eyes as you reached for him. "That's a great idea." Bradley carefully handed Noah to you and then watched you snuggle him in your arms. "What color do you think she would like?"

As Bradley stood up, Noah flipped through the stack of paper and said, "Probably red, so she knows we love her."

"That's perfect," you told him, but then you looked up at Bradley. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be right back. You two get started on her crown."

Bradley went right to his bedroom and plucked your worn out purple paper crown from the bedpost. It took him a minute of hunting, because they always seemed to end up all over the house, but eventually he found the other two crowns in Noah's room. When he returned to the living room, everything just made sense. There was a smaller red crown in Noah's hands, and you were carefully taping it together.

"Perfect," you crooned, kissing the top of his head as he held it up to show Bradley.

"I have an idea, Bub," he said, setting the green crown on his own head and the purple one on yours. After placing the yellow one on Noah's head, he scooped him up and reached for your hand. "Let's decorate the tree with it since your sister can't wear it yet."

With your cheek resting on his chest and your hand rubbing his abs, Bradley held Noah up high enough that he was able to set the crown on the top of the tree where a star would traditionally belong. But he liked this so much better. He'd take crowns and babysitters over stars any day.

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

You and Noah were so excited for Christmas, it was ridiculous. Even though it was nearly seventy degrees in San Diego, you made mugs of hot chocolate and blasted Christmas carols through the house on Christmas Eve. The tree was absolutely covered in ornaments, some store bought but most homemade. You kept playing YouTube videos of snow, which Noah had never seen in real life, and you convinced Bradley to take you both back to Big Bear Lake in January.

Nat and Javy stopped by with a pile of presents for Noah along with some baby girl clothing that had you melting as soon as you unwrapped it. Tomorrow morning, the three of you would be heading over to spend the day with Mav, Penny and Amelia, but tonight was just for the three of you. 

Bradley had already assembled Noah's bike and used an entire roll of wrapping paper to cover it, and while you took Noah to the kitchen to decorate the cookies you made, he carried it out to put it under the tree along with the collection of coloring books, colored pencils and crayons you bought for him. There were a few other gifts for him as well, but you and Bradley agreed not to exchange gifts with each other. He already spent every day of the year spoiling you, and you didn't need or want anything anyway. You already had it all.

"I need a hot chocolate refill," Bradley said, popping into the kitchen with his Noah's Dad mug in one hand and a smug smile on his face. "And then we can open presents."

"More presents?!" Noah asked, nearly dropping a cookie onto the floor as he scrambled down from his chair. 

"More presents," Bradley confirmed. "You ready?"

Noah left the two of you in the dust which gave you a few seconds to wrap your arms around your husband's neck and press your ever growing belly against him. "Thanks for letting me spoil Noah with your credit card," you whispered, letting your fingers trail down his chest until they were slipping into the waistband of his sweatpants. "Maybe later you'll let me spoil you?"

His smirk grew. "Oh, that's what I'm counting on, Baby."

"Mommy!" Noah shouted, and you pulled Bradley along with you by the drawstrings on his pants. "Look!"

When you walked into the living room, he was holding up a wrapped gift in each hand. Once you were settled on the couch with Skittles on your lap, Bradley joined Noah on the floor with his mug. "Go ahead and open them up, Bub."

You watched him tear into the paper while Bradley rooted around under the tree. Noah was holding up each coloring book and commenting on the themes as Bradley picked up a small, purple box and set it down next to your thigh. 

"What's this?"

He licked his lips and gave you a very innocent expression as he said, "Why don't you go ahead and open it and find out?"

It took you a few seconds to untie the little ribbon, and then you lifted the lid from the box and gasped as Noah moved on to unwrap his bike. "Daddy," you whispered, running your fingers along the shiny treat he bought for you, knowing full well that he'd enjoy it, too.

"You like it?" His voice was raspy and needy as you tipped the box a little bit to the side, and then you had to stifle a moan.

"I do," you told him, letting the heavy, stainless steel butt plug roll onto your palm. Mrs. Bradshaw was inscribed on the base.

Your heart was skipping around in your chest as you met his big, brown eyes. "You gonna spoil me, Princess?"

"As soon as Noah goes to bed."

After that, it didn't take long before Bradley was hauling him off to bed with the promise that he could try out his new bike first thing in the morning before leaving for Penny's house.

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

Your best gift came after Christmas. It was two days into the new year when you were on your way home from work and got a phone call from the county clerk's office. In your excitement, you had to pull over so you didn't wreck when you heard the words, "You can come in to see the judge and have your adoption of Noah Bradshaw finalized."

"Bradley!" you screamed when you finally got home. He and Noah were already working on undecorating the tree, and now he had a panicked look on his face.

"What happened?" he asked, meeting you at the door and reaching for your belly.

"We're fine," you insisted loudly, scrambling into his arms as you shook from excitement. "I just got a phone call, and Noah's mine! He's really going to be mine!"

"Yeah?" Bradley asked as a smile bloomed across his face. "We're going to see the judge?"

"On Thursday!" you shrieked.

"This week?"

"This week!"

When Noah tried to reach for you as tears slid down your cheeks, Bradley picked him up. "Why are you crying, Mommy?" he asked, worry creasing his brow.

You kissed him and whispered, "Because I love you so much."

And that's exactly how you stood on Thursday afternoon, with Bradley next to you and Noah in his arms while you signed so many papers in front of the judge. Each swipe of the pen brought you a little bit closer to where you wanted to be, and when you reached the final sheet, your fingers shook. There was a little blot of ink next to your name, and you smiled down at it before pushing the papers across the table and looking expectantly at the judge.

He signed his own name a few times, handed everything over to someone else and then declared you Noah's legal guardian and parent. You let yourself sob against Bradley while you held Noah's small hand in yours. This is where you belonged. This is where you felt safe. This was your family. 

"It's official," you whispered to Noah, your voice raw from emotion. "I'm your Mommy."

Bradley kissed the top of your head half a dozen times and said, "You've been Noah's Mommy for months, Baby. Collect that piece of paper so we can go home."

You would have framed it, because it meant that much to you. And there was a chance you still would. But not yet. You needed to have it with you when you took Noah to preschool on your way to work a few weeks later. You left with plenty of time to spare so you'd be able to savor every moment. The baby was squirming around like crazy as you walked into the lobby with Noah's hand tucked into yours, and that's when you saw Casey.

"Good morning," you said brightly, and she tried her best to ignore you as she set the clipboard down for you to sign. You scribbled your brand new name on the line, kissed Noah's cheek, and then you watched her lead him inside to his classroom where he started to hang up his bag.

When Casey returned to find you were still there with your left hand resting on your belly, her eyes fell to your rings. They were stunning, and you knew it. She was jealous that you married Bradley, and you knew it. 

"What do you need?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

You smiled. "I need to fill out a second set of paperwork for Noah."

Casey rolled her eyes. "No. You don't. His dad's paperwork will still suffice. You're already listed as someone who is allowed to drop his son off and pick him up."

"Oh, but he's my son, too," you replied immediately, and you were met with stony silence. "I have the adoption paperwork here to prove it. And also, you'll need to update my last name in your records. It's Bradshaw now. I have the paperwork to prove that, too."

Without a single word, Casey pulled a new set of registration paperwork for you to fill out, and you took your time, standing there on the other side of the counter, neatly writing every last word. You hummed while you filled in your marital status and said, "It's funny how it turned out, huh? I started out as just the babysitter. What a wild world. But now you can call me Mrs. Bradshaw when you see me."

Her cheeks were bright red as you signed your name on the last sheet, gave her a bland look and added, "I'll be back to pick up my son later today." And then you walked outside into the cool January sunlight, and you really did feel like a Princess even without your crown on.

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

Bradley pulled his Bronco into his driveway, smiling at the sight of his son's bike parked crooked on the porch and the chalk art covering the walkway. His mind felt so much calmer than it had just a year ago, because he wasn't constantly rushing around, and he knew what he was going to find when he opened the door.

Armed with pizza, a salad, and a decaf coffee with Mrs. Bradshaw written on the side, he walked in and was greeted by Skittles running to him. Then he saw you and Noah sitting on the floor together, your back leaning against the couch. You had Noah cradled against your belly, his hands and ear pressed against your shirt.

"Daddy!" he called out. "She's kicking!"

"Yeah?" Bradley asked with a smile, setting everything on the TV stand before dropping down to the carpet. 

You reached for his hand as he crawled over, and he let you place it high on your belly. "Feel her?" you whispered, almost like you were afraid to break the magic that you'd somehow cast on all of them. There she was, moving around just like the previous night and last week. Bradley would never tire of this feeling.

He curled up with Noah, unwilling to move until his daughter wore herself out. Your fingers combed gently through his hair, and even Noah didn't seem in much of a rush to get to his dinner while his tiny sister was making him giggle. Every day was practically perfect now because of you, and it was just going to keep getting better. He looked up at your beautiful face and said, "You're the best thing that ever happened to us, Princess."

"I know, Daddy."

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

Omg, this family makes me so happy! Noah is thriving, and he's going to have a baby sister. Bradley is such a Daddy, and Princess is entering Mommy era for real. Up next is the EPILOGUE. I can't thank you enough, especially if you have been here reading since last MARCH! Big thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls

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[milswrites]

The Trials of Aphrodite Part Five

~ Azriel X Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist

Series summary: Hopelessly in love with Elain, Azriel enlists your help in order to win her over. The only problem? You have been in love with Azriel for as long as you have known him.

Chapter summary: You make the most unlikely of friends.

Warnings: Angst.

“I think you should talk to Elain.”

You scoffed as you looked up from the pages of your book, brows raised and eyes rolling as you turned your once focused gaze to the anticipatory stare of your friend, “Good morning to you too, Az. I’m swell, thank you for asking.”

Hazel eyes narrowing at your remark, a sound of disbelief fell from Azriel’s lips as your attention returned to the book between your hands. Disgruntled by his piercing gaze, you stubbornly moved the object to block him from your view. Your action drawing a groan of contention from the shadowsinger as he argued, “Oh come on sweetheart, I just got ahead of myself. I’m sorry, alright?”

Azriel sighed lowly as he realized you weren’t going to budge, lips downturned as his hands came to rest on either arm of the chair you were curled up in. “Angel?” he asked tentatively, leaning forwards until the tip of his nose brushed against the spine of your book, a teasing finger coming to push the novel down until his amused gaze met your own formidable glare. The heated breath of his mirthful chuckle kissing your cheeks as he smirked, “How’s my best friend doing on this lovely day?”

You snorted at his question, eyes unforgiving as you answered flatly, “I’m telling Cassian that you called me your best friend.”

The shadowsinger chuckled at your words, shrugging his shoulders in dismissal as he added, "Come on angel. If you don't tell me how your day is, I guess I'm just going to have to tell Rhys that it was you who knocked over the entire shelf of his expensive wines last solstice."

You slammed your book shut, glaring daggers at the male as you seethed, "You wouldn't dare! You swore you would never tell!"

"You're right, and I always make good on my promises. But it's nice to see your beautiful face again." Azriel grinned devilishly, sliding the book from your lap before you could utilize it as a weapon, "Now, how's my angel doing today?"

You huffed, unable to stop the small smile from pulling at your lips at the male's antics, "Slightly annoyed that I still fall for your same tricks after five hundred years of friendship."

"But you still love me all the same," Azriel grinned. Your eyes shied from his playful gaze as he spoke, cheeks turning pale as you wondered if Azriel knew just how truthful his statement was. Yet the male failed to notice your change in demeanor, rather, he proceeded once more with tentatively approaching the topic of his arrival, "So much so that you'd talk to Elain for me?"

You slumped into your chair, resisting the urge to groan in frustration at your friend's proposal, "Az, I have never once spoken to Elain. Don't you think she'd be suspicious if I started trying to be her friend out of the blue?"

"But isn't that what wingmen -" Azriel shrank under your unimpressed stare, nervously laughing as he corrected himself, " - sorry - wingwomen do?"

Your mouth parted wordlessly, mind searching for any possible excuse as to why you talking to Elain for him would be a bad idea. But it was too late, Azriel had sensed your reluctance. His hand coming to meet your own as he pleaded his case, "There is not a single person in Prythian you could talk to who wouldn't fall for your charm. Look . . . It'll be easy. I just think I may have more of a chance with her if you shared some things about me that you think she may like to hear."

"What, like the fact that you still sleep with the stuffed bat I gave you centuries ago?" you teased as payback for his earlier comment, taking pleasure in the way Azriel's smile dropped in horror. The male's eyes blowing wide in alarm as he stammered a pitiful response, "How did you -? . . . I- I don't sleep with him anymore!"

"Him?" you laughed at Azriel’s pitiful attempt of a burning glare, throwing your head back in glee at the sight. Proud that you were possibly the only person alive who could be on the receiving end of one of the shadowsinger's threatening stares and live to tell the tale.

"You're hilarious, truly" Azriel replied flatly, “It’s nice to see how much you care about my love life”. The shadowsinger, unamused by your incessant giggling, permissed a grave expression to cross his face as he continued to press the matter, "Please. I really need her to like me, and if that means that I need to ask my guardian angel to work her magic . . ."

Your heart clenched at his words, the laughter dying in your throat as your eyes fell from his own pleading ones to the hands at your lap. Stare cold and broken as you realized Rhysand had been wrong the other day. You could never say no. Not to Azriel.

You were a victim of your own heart's desire, cursed with the unfortunate luck of only ever being able to answer the male with words he so longed to hear. Azriel the commander and executioner of your love as your reply slipped from your lips before you could even think about stopping yourself, "Of course I'll speak to her, Az. That's what friends do, right?"

"And what a great friend you are" he grinned, the tension in his shoulders easing at your acceptance, "I'll pay you back for this, I promise. We'll go to that restaurant you like, the one down by the Rainbow."

"Yeah. . .” Azriel was gone before you could even finish your sentence, his shadows lingering for a moment before they ultimately decided on following their master, “That sounds nice. . ."

You quietly sigh, vacant eyes never straying from your lap as you move your shaky hands to cling onto the arms of the chair, gripping the velvet upholstery in an effort to stop your uncontrollable trembling.

Terrified at the prospect of facing the female who was in every way your superior, you exhaled deeply. Rubbing at the growing ache in your temples as you readied yourself to look into the eyes of the cauldron-blessed fae who had stolen Azriel’s heart.

It didn't take long to find her.

The majority of Elain’s days were typically spent within the walls of her garden, the timid female preferring to pass her time with the company of flowers rather than that of other fae.

Perhaps you could tell yourself that was why the two of you had never spoken. That her quiet, reserved nature was the reason for the silence between you. That it had absolutely nothing to do with the shadowsinger who had managed to capture both of your affections.

If that were the case, perhaps you would have allowed yourself to have visited her garden sooner. Sparing the time to come and admire the beautifully blooming flowers, taking the opportunity to bask in the soothing tranquility of your surroundings. You had to admit it was impressive, the radiant life that Elain had managed to bring to the garden that the workers have otherwise been unable to do so.

But you also had to admit that you have been selfish, and unfairly so. Unable to help but wonder if your reason for visiting Elain today was a punishment from the gods, a penalty for having not been more welcoming to the female upon her arrival to the Night Court.

It didn't take long for Elain to notice your presence in her garden, the sound of your approaching footsteps being enough to pull the female's attention from the flowers she was tending to. Her brow creased in confusion as she saw exactly who it was walking towards her.

"Uh, hello Elain," you awkwardly began, smile tight as you mentally cursed yourself for your uncomfortable demeanor, "I saw you through the window and I um . . . I thought you may appreciate a tea."

Elain's eyes dropped to the cup held between your shaky hands, mouth slightly parting in question at your unusually kind gesture, "Oh . . . "

Sighing, you closed the distance between you, placing the cup on the ground before opting to sit beside the female. "It was Azriel's idea" you confessed, tentatively glancing in Elain's direction, noting how her ears pricked at the mention of your friend's name, "He thought it might be a nice idea for you to have someone to talk to. . . The tea was all me though."

"That's nice of him" Elain allowed a soft smile to grace her lips, moving to pick up the cup before she nervously added, "and you, thank you for the tea."

"Yeah, he's always watching out for the people he cares about" you winced at your words, eyes closing in shame as you were aware of just how terribly this conversation was going. Moving your hand to pick at the hem of your dress as you resisted the urge to flee in embarrassment.

But if Elain were bothered by your uneasy company she didn't show, moving to pick up her trowel once more as she resumed her gardening, her words light as she replied, "I know I'm considerably younger than all you fae, but that doesn't make me stupid. I know why you're here."

You inhaled sharply, shoulders tensing as you found yourself unable to stop the rising wave of panic which had begun to wash over you, nervous eyes flickering over the poised female as you breathlessly asked, "What?"

"I know love when I see it" Elain answered, briefly turning from her task so her brown eyes could meet your own, "That's why Azriel sent you to talk to me wasn't it? Because he thinks he loves me."

"You know?" you asked at a higher octave than deemed normal, unable to help the surprised laugh which escaped your lips, leaning back onto your hands as you allowed the information to soak in. Mouth dropped in disbelief as you gathered your thoughts, "You'd certainly make for a better spymaster than him."

"It doesn't exactly take a spymaster to see it" Elain smirked slightly, seemingly pleased by your astonished reaction. Gesturing to a spare trowel she continued, "Come on, if we're going to talk you may as well be helping me."

A feeling of satisfied contentment washed over you as the two of you worked in a comfortable silence. It wasn't hard to understand why Elain loved to spend all of her time here, the quiet calm of the garden was a suitable place to sieve through the questions which had risen at her revelation.

Wondering exactly where it was you were supposed to begin, you tentatively asked, "So why haven't you told him that you know?" Your face immediately turning pale as your tumultuous thoughts had already answered for her, heart racing as you voiced the glaring question on your mind, "Unless you don't love him back?"

It had always been a possibility that Elain didn't share the same feelings for Azriel as he did for her. You would be lying if you said you hadn't hoped for it. Having already pondered the possibility that if the shadowsinger were to be rejected, his lovesick eyes may then turn to you. You almost scoffed at how pathetic the idea was.

And yet, inexplicably, a sinking feeling had risen in your chest. Heart already breaking at the mere thought of how Azriel would react to the terrible news that Elain didn't like him back.

It took several moments for the female to reply, mind lost to her own thoughts as she searched for an appropriate answer. "Love him?" Elain pondered, gaze distant as she stared at a budding flower before her, "No. But I could grow to."

The soft sigh which escaped from Elain's lips told you she had more to say, her eyes thinly veiled by a white mist as she began to explain her reasoning, “I was engaged once - if you'd believe it - but then the war happened, and Hybern, and then by some cruel trick of fate the cauldron turned me into the one thing that my fiancé had always been taught to hate."

You failed to find an answer worthy of speaking, sympathy brewing in your chest at the female's admission that her transition has been more than difficult. Guilty, that between your bitterness and jealousy, you hadn't stopped to think about exactly what it was Elain was going through. 

"I never got a choice, not when I got shoved into the cauldron and not when I got brought here. . . So I don't really know what it is I want with my life anymore. I'm not even sure I know who I am. But I do know Azriel makes me happy," Elain's words drew you from your spiraling shame, a wistful smile on the young fae's face as she spoke about the male, "When I'm with him I don't have to be who I used to be. . . He gives me the room to figure out who I am in this new life I have been given."

"You make him happy too, Elain" you answered with a sad smile, swallowing your pain as you tried to blink away your rising tears, "He really does think the world of you."

It didn’t take long for you to realize you had allowed your emotions to get the better of you, your face blanching as shock crossed Elain's features. Her eyes full of sorrow as she turned her gaze to you, "You love him?" 

"And he loves you."

You did your best to shrug away the females sympathetic stare as you moved to continue gardening, yet Elain's pitiful eyes remained on you, lips downturned as she queried, "How long?"

You laughed at the answer to her question, too embarrassed to reveal to Elain that you had wasted centuries pining after a male who would never love you back, "Let's just say it's been long enough for me to know it's time to move on." 

Elain hummed in quiet understanding, taking a moment to think before her head tilted in question, "And have you?”

"Have I what?"

"Moved on?" 

There was no malice in Elain Acheron's voice, not as each question she asked was delivered with such empathy. Rather, you found yourself blushing at her curious nature, a shy smile gracing your features as you found yourself revealing, "I'm getting there, one day at a time. . . I may have met someone the other day."

Elain squealed in excitement, dropping her trowel as she moved her body to face yours, eagerly outstretching her hands to meet your own as she laced them together and begged, "Tell me everything."

"There's not much to tell" you reply honestly, ears burning at the thought of the male you had met the other day, "We've only met once, at the bakery in Velaris. He spilt his coffee all over me and then we just got talking. I don't know. . . It just felt so natural, for once in my life I didn't find myself thinking of . . . well . . . Az. He asked to meet me again but -"

"Oh you have to!" Elain cried, an encouraging grin crossing her face as she urged you to take the step. Her searching eyes not failing to miss the hesitance in your own;, hands squeezing yours as she offered her advice, “Moving on isn’t meant to be easy. But the regret you’ll feel if you miss this chance will hurt more. . . Besides you never know, this male might surprise you, it already sounds like he’s swept you off your feet.”

You smiled at Elain, the thought of males far from your mind as you found yourself unable to think of anything other than how utterly and completely wrong you had been about her. Brows knitted together in regret, you expressed this to the female, “You know, you’re not quite the person I expected you to be Elain Archeron.”

The fae's eyes twinkled in response, a matching smile upon her lips as she replied, “No, neither are you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: Sorry for the wait for this part 🥲 my uni kind of killed me off for a moment. And thank you to @sarawritestories who helped me iron this part out because my brain is fried at the moment.

Taglist:

@a-cup-of-nightshade @yearninglustfully @illyrianbitch @ninaduchess @annaaaaa88 @antiquecultist @madelyncullen @erencvlt @chaytea06 @dxjaaaa @saltedcoffeescotch @spark1epuffba11s @thestartitaness @amysangel @historygeekqueen @thelov3lybookworm @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @willowpains @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @dreamlandreader @sidthedollface2 @leeknows-wife @riorgail @lady-of-tearshed @evergreenlark @anuttellaa @daily-dose-of-sass @Jesus-is-me @tothestarsandwhateverend

[luvelylaconic]

Jealous? Nah. (Yes.)

Gojo x Fem Reader: part 2. Minors DNI

Part One

In which, you befriend Suguru and it doesn't sit well with Satoru. He's sure it's just because he doesn't want to lose his best friend, right?

Content: Possessiveness, Jealousy, Eventual smut, Jujutsu College AU, Slight Toxic Relationship, Sexual Themes

When Satoru entered class the next morning, he made a deliberate decision to sit a little farther back than usual, making sure to keep the two surrounding desks next to him clear. And when he saw the familiar frame walk in and make their way to the back like they usually did, he pulled the chair out next to him and urged them to sit.

So, you sat right next to him.

"Hey.", you greeted with a smile as you pulled out your notebook and pencils, plopping them on the desk, "You don't usually sit back here."

"This class is boring. I need something to distract me or else I think I might actually drop out."

And although there was some truth to Gojo's statement, it was also mainly the fact that this was the only class that he had with you without Ieiri, or more importantly, Suguru.

But you thought nothing of it, because even you can admit this class was most definitely not your favorite either. So, you took the company with gratitude as you jotted down notes, while the white haired boy next to you simple peered at your note taking for majority of the lecture.

The class then slowly crept into the second portion of class dedicated to class discussion, in which you turned your body to the boy next to you only to be met with his blue orbs staring at you already,

He remained silent while you kept your gaze, but after coming to the assumption he wasn't going to speak, you took it upon yourself,

"So, what do you think-"

"You have nice handwriting.", Gojo finally blurted out as he then turned his attention to your notebook and pointed, "I like this colored pen, it's the same as my eyes."

You squinted at where he was pointing on your notebook and then quickly rummaged through your pencil case for the exact pen, bringing it up to his eyes, 

"It's almost the exact same." you noted in amusement as you brought both the pen and your face closer to his, comparing and analyzing, "But your eyes are more... bright? I think your eye color is prettier."

At your compliment, Satoru's eyes widened ever so slightly as his breath got caught back in his throat. He stared between your eyes and the close proximity of your own face, but quickly returned his composure before you could notice, being too enthralled in his eyes,

"Well, yeah." he scoffed as he turned his head away, furrowing his eyebrows. 

You brought your body back to its original seat and attempted to grasp his sudden behavior. He looked... upset? Your eyes then slowly trailed over his face once more and then down to his desk, noticing an empty notebook, 

"Did you not take notes?", you asked while he shook his head no.

He replied short and plainly, "I don't take notes."

"I'll send you mine-", you began to offer but were suddenly interrupted by his voice yet again, biting the inside of your cheeks in frustration as you quieted yourself to listen.

"What are you and Suguru?"

You blinked, attempting to process his rather blunt ask. ,"What..?"

"It's a simple question.", his eyes then turned to you, eyeing you from the corner of them as he waited for your answer.

You stared at him for the nth time, finding it all too easy to look right into his cerulean eyes each time they were directed at you, but you shook your head to bring yourself back to the topic,

"We're just friends, why?"

The scowl that Gojo had on his face nearly instantly vanished as he gave a smile in replacement, 

"No reason. Anyways, i'm outta here."

And with that said, he grabbed his bag along with his empty notebook and took his exit, not even acknowledging that there was still fifteen minutes left in class. 

He had to get to Suguru's before he started his next class.

"What do you want?", the unamused dark haired male asked when he opened his dorm room to find his best friend waiting. He stared him down with a frown as he debated closing the door on him.

The awaiting boy just smiled, 

"Not even a hello? How are you? Maybe that you missed me?", he playfully cooed as he let himself into his dorm, tossing his glasses onto the counter before throwing his body onto the bed and letting it go limp, settling on his side, "Wanna cuddle?"

Suguru sighed as he closed the door and walked over to the edge of the bed, "No, not really. I have class in twenty minutes."

"Y/N is in that class, huh?", Satoru asked all too quickly.

Suguru warped his face into a scowl once again, a familiar look he seemed to have with Satoru, "Yeah, she is. I usually meet her at her class before... which aren't you supposed to be in? You know you can't be skipping classes, the professors already don't like you that much. "

Satoru groaned in reply, not getting the reaction or reply he wanted, "Yeah, yeah whatever. But do you think that-"

Now it was his turn to be interrupted when a light melody played from Suguru's phone, followed by a few more rapidly. Did he change his ringtone? Or is it one he had for someone specifically? His questioned seemed to be answered when he quickly looked at his phone with a smile and then put it away,

"Y/N sent me her notes to give to you."

"Why couldn't she just give me them herself?"

"She said she doesn't have your number."

Oh, right.

"Well, give it to me then."

Suguru deadpanned for a moment, this just adding more to his notion he had. But he ultimately gave in without a word and pulled out his phone to send the number over.

"What's her name in your contacts?", Gojo asked as he saved your contact to his own phone, "And her contact photo."

"Why does it matter.", he spat as he began to put his phone away, but the scheming man that was once on his bed shot up and grabbed it away from him before he could.

A nickname... and a photo of you two posed together at the beach... Possibly a photo Shoko had taken based on the finger in the frame?

It was also the most he's ever seen of your exposed body. The way your swimsuit clung to your wet body caused him to pause over it for awhile, forgetting why he took the phone to begin with until the rightful owner snatched it back.

His wide eyes gazed back at Suguru, "What are you guys?", he asked for the second time today.

Suguru scoffed in reply, "What's with all these questions?"

"Y/N says she only see's you as a friend.", he blundered as he once again felt the unsettling feeling in his stomach. 

"Satoru.", Suguru said sternly, akin to a parent lecturing a child.

He realized his mistake then and made his way back to the bed, laying down with a sigh, 

"Sorry."

Silence followed for a few minutes after, only the occasional sound of Suguru packing his book bag and making his coffee. Two of them were made, one of them in a pink tumblr- so it could only be assumed that one was meant for you.

And Gojo simply stared up at the ceiling, trying to rid himself of the overwhelming amount of emotions he was feeling. Not only did he feel upset over you seeing Suguru so much, he was also upset at Suguru. But why? He had assumed that you were the root of this problem, disrupting his friend group and bond with his best friend. But today, you did nothing that he could directly blame for his turmoil- if anything, the only time he felt actually content today was when you admitted you saw Suguru as just a friend.

On top of all this, he also couldn't rid his mind of the image he had seen of you, constantly letting it enter his forefront and wishing he was there to have seen it in person. It's a simple attraction, he thinks.

Suguru is also pretty lucky, he thinks.

And his train of thoughts ends once he hears the door open, looking over to his friend taking his leave,

"You can stay here if you want, i'll be back in two hours."

Suguru then stayed stagnant at the door for a few more seconds, seemingly thinking something over,

"And if you like Y/N, do something about it. Or else I will."

Oh.

[calicoheartz]

Embracing Truth ; Paige Bueckers ┈﹒

꣑୧ — summary | paige helps her gf come out of the closet 💐💌❤️

wc ; 870

— warnings | smalll hints of homophobia , anxiety related topics , mainly fluff + established relationship

my master list ㇀♡

1) i am sooo sorry for not responding to ur request anon! I accidentally deleted it from my drafts :(

a/n : this was so sweet and cute to write 🥰 this definitely healed something in me. Enjoy ◡̈

Paige sat on the edge of the bed, watching as her girlfriend, y/n, paced nervously back and forth between the blondes dorm. She could tell something was weighing heavily on your mind, and her instincts told her it was something serious. 

You and Paige had been dating since your second year of college, meeting during one of your shared classes. You knew you had always been into girls, often experimenting with them in highschool. But there was one problem, your parents didn't know.

They weren't necessarily homophobic per say, but to be fair the conversation of you being gay never was a topic of conversation. But the idea of one day having to tell them terrified you, especially since you knew the relationship with your girlfriend was becoming serious.

“Y/n, what's wrong?” Paige asks, snapping you out of your thoughts as she stood up and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder to stop your pacing.

You took a deep breath, looking up at your girlfriend with tears welled in your eyes managing to croak out , “I don't know Paige, I really need to tell my parents… I need to tell them about us. But I'm just afraid that they won't accept me, accept us. What if they kick me out? Disown me??”

Paige’s heart ached at the sudden fear that lingered in your voice,  as she pulled you into a warm, comforting hug, holding you tightly. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. I’ll be right by your side every step of the way. We’ll get through this together, I promise.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, knowing that Paige would be there for you, and be by your side. “Okay,” you whispered, “Okay, let’s do this.”

A few days had passed since you had the conversation with your girlfriend, part of you wanted to procrastinate for as long as possible, because they would eventually find out regardless of when they were told. But your subconscious knew that now was the time, especially since you were serious about the blonde. You had to embrace the truth, your truth.

You and Paige drove over to your parents house one Friday evening, in the hopes of possibly sharing this important news over dinner. You were a bundle of nerves, but the blonde held your hand reassuringly as the two of you began to walk towards the front door. You took a pause, hesitating to ring the doorbell , after gathering your thoughts, you gently pressed on the round button in front of you, revealing a small chime in reply. You were soon greeted by your parents, who were surprised but happy to see them. 

“y/n, Paige, what brings you here?” your mother chirps. Hugging the both of you before inviting you two inside.

As you walked through your house, skimming past the dining room and making your way towards the living room, you plopped down on the couch before breaking the silence, “We have something we need to talk to you both about” your voice trembling slightly.

Once the rest of them had joined you on the couch and surrounding seats, you took a deep breath and began to speak again. “Mom, Dad, you know how I’ve known Paige since freshman year of highschool? And how we’ve spent a lot of time with each other since then..” the two of them nodded in response before you continued, “well.. I realized that I like her  more than a friend way. What I’m trying to say- I’m saying is that I’m with Paige. Like we’re dating..” your voice trailing off before facing them both in the eye, as your eyes had been previously wandering and focusing on different objects in the area. “Im gay.”

There was a brief moment of silence as your parents processed the information. You feared the absolute worst as the seconds of silence passed by, but then you mom spoke up, her voice filled with love and acceptance. “Sweetheart, we love you no matter what. We just want you to be happy.”

You couldn't hold back your tears as you hugged them both, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief and gratitude. Paige wrapped her arms around them all, feeling grateful to be a part of such a loving and accepting family.

After the initial shock wore off, your parents welcomed Paige with open arms, eager to get to know her now officially as their daughter's girlfriend. You all spent the evening talking and laughing, and you couldn't have felt more loved and accepted. 

As the night came to a close, and as the both of you drove back to the blondes dorm, you couldn't stop smiling. Your heart was full of love for Paige and your family, as you squeezed her hand as a way to silently say I love you.

“I love you, P,” you whispered quietly, your voice filled with emotion. “I love you too, y/n” Paige replied, squeezing your hand back gently. “I'm so proud of you.”

And in that moment, that's when you knew that no matter what challenges you both faced in the future, as long as you had your girlfriend by your side, you could handle anything.

as always, thank you guys so much for reading!! don't forget to leave reqs :)

[danikamariewrites]

Hi could I request platonic Yandere inner circle x neglected reader who ran away because she got too tired of being neglected and decided to start a new life and the inner circle became a yandere because of the guilt they felt towards the neglect they did to her and could you make reader Yandere Azriel’s mate and reader decided not to tell him because he never showed any interest towards her either platonically or romantically and he becames a romantic Yandere for her. headcanons.😊❤️❤️❤️❤️🦇

Lure You Home

Azriel x reader & Inner Circle (platonic) x reader

A/n: I’ve read some yandere fics and I really liked the idea of an extra dark Azriel vibe. This might be my only yandere fic depending on how well this does (I was a little nervous to write this bc I’m not sure how popular the topic is lol) and I’m not sure how much I like this.

Warnings: yandere IC, yandere Azreil, dark!Azriel, dark!IC, possesive Az

Your move to the Winter Court was tough on your friends, especially Azriel. They deserved it though, you thought

They had stopped paying attention to you and hanging out with you

What were you supposed to do? You had tried everything to get their attention

Azriel, who was your best friend, even stopped being around you so much. Only his shadows kept you company

After weeks of Azriel’s begging Rhys finally gave in. Truly they all felt the same way as him, though Az felt it more. The inner circle could no longer live with their guilt of abandoning you, they had to get you back

It had pained you to move away from Azriel. The day you decided to leave was when the mating bond snapped for you but you couldn’t back out now, that would only show you were full of empty threats

Your friends needed to suffer

Months of living in the Winter Court had been hard and lonely. After two days in your new home you noticed the shadows moved, they seemed familiar

You immediately knew they were Azriel’s shadows and knew they would report back to them

An idea had popped into your mind once you saw the shadows swirling in the corner, watching over you

You were going to drive Azriel back into your arms. Make him go crazy until you were all that consumed his mind

Little did you know Azriel had the same idea, weaponizing his shadows to carry his scent, to touch you at night, holding you like you wished he would

You were both driving each other insane. Azriel broke first, coming to steal you away in the middle of the night. A blizzard was raging outside when his shadows carried him into your bedroom as you slept

Azriel couldn’t help but watch you sleep peacefully. You looked so beautiful, so innocent and easy to take. Your lack of wards to keep yourself safe had made his jaw clench. It just made him feel more right in taking you home to the House of Wind

His shadows ran through your room, taking all of your important items to the house. Azriel knew what was important to you, he had been watching you for years. Once his shadows confirmed that they had everything Azriel wrapped you in your favorite blanket, holding you to his chest, kissing your forehead and whispering promises of never letting you go or taking you for granted again

Azriel laid you down gently on his bed, like you were his most prized possession. His bed was as comfortable as you had imagined. It was soft and smelled like him, that night mist and cedar calming your senses. You smirked as he spooned you, pulling you impossibly close to his chest, still whispering promises

You had been wide awake the whole time, the shadows now under your command didn’t snitch on you

You fell asleep to the sound of Azriel’s heartbeat, cocooned in his warmth. It was the best sleep you had in years

Waking up in the morning you didn’t bother acting scared or shocked. The two of you were resting on the same pillow, you watched him as he slept. The morning sun highlighting the sporadic placement of hair that had been lightened by the sun from years of training outside

You reached out, tracing the line of his nose gently. Your finger catching on the slightest bump from when he broke it as a teenager

At the feeling of you tracing the bow of his lips his eyes fluttered open. Your breath slightly caught at the long dark lashes against his golden cheeks. His hazel eyes meet yours. Azriel sucks in a breath, scared that you will scream at him, beg to be let go. When those hurtful words didn’t leave your mouth Azriel pulled you close, crashing his lips against yours

Breaking apart he rests his forehead against yours, cradling the back of your neck to keep you close to him, “I’ll never let you go again.” He promised. “Never again, my mate.” You whisper. Azriel’s eyes go wide at the confession

In that moment the bond snaps for him

The two of you accept it immediately. Taking you to the cabin in the mountains the frenzy begins and Azriel is consumed by you

Once it’s over Azriel decides your permanent residence is the house of wind. Easy for Azriel to keep you safe knowing you would never dare take the 10,000 steps

He would know when you would come and go thanks to him being the only one taking you up and down from the house. Azriel had forbidden any of the IC members with wings to take you to and from the house

That was his job as your mate to keep you close and know where you are at all times

When you wanted to go out you always had to ask Azriel

If you wanted to have an overnight with the girls Azriel would practically throw a fit. “Do you not love me? Why wouldn’t you want to stay in bed with me?” “They don’t hold you like I do, you need that baby.” He’d say stroking your cheeks. “You need to stay here, safe with me.” You just nod and say, “Ok Azzy.”

You can’t be mad at him for it, not when you get the same way when he wants to stay out late with his brothers

You burst into tears when Azriel tries to go out to bars with Rhys and Cass. You also majorly guilt trip him into staying home with you screaming that you’ll just die if he doesn’t stay home

Worried that something would happen to you or that you would hurt yourself Azriel stays home

When Azriel is away on missions you stay at the river house so the IC can watch over you. They are just as obsessed with you staying safe as Azriel

It kills you when Cassian, Feyre, or Nesta keep you from doing things. You beg them to let you go out anywhere other than the garden. You swear you have more freedom at the house of wind, and that’s on a mountain!

Anyone who does bother you or comes anywhere near you disappears thanks to Azriel and Cassian

[thegoldencontracts]

ONE OF MY TWST OCS IS A TOTAL TSUNDERE WHAT THE HELL

Make twst tsundere content, I DARE you(I'd say I'd match you with content of my own, however it is drama and science finals week and I'd rather not burn myself out on more than one front bc my english final is next week. So I will not guarantee that lmao BUT STILL THAT SOUNDS AWESOME MAKE THAT CONTENT I WILL EAT IT UP)

- thoughtlessdesires

THANK YOU SOMEONE ELSE WHO UNDERSTANDSSSSS

Hello, you there, yes, YOU 🫵 can help make tsundere twst by uhh... idek man it's tsundere twst,,, it's cuteee i swearrr imagine THIS:

I-It's Not Like I Like You!

Summary: The Housewardens deal with their affection in the oddest of ways.

Notes: This is a taste of what we can make possible GUYS tsundere!twst is cute and it's not ridiculously ooc or smth like that i SWEAR- Also the last sentence in Azul's part is literally ripped straight from the third part of his dorm vignette (the tsundere potential of this man is so understated guys PLEASE let me yap here I have a point-)

Night Raven College; a place of raw meritocracy. Sentiment is rarely found, and affection is often mocked. Logic and strength are meant to take priority, and discord between students is common.

So what happens where these students find someone who treats them with kindness, understanding.

...Completely flounder, of course.

The housewardens, during one of their meetings, even discussed the dearest Ramshackle Prefect, so odd, so understanding. Kalim had brought the topic up, of course.

"...Why's this important?" Leona had said, a bored look on his face.

"I-Indeed," Riddle said. "The Prefect isn't particularly relevant to our current topic of discussion, regardless of accomplishments."

Azul sighed in his typical, overdramatic manner of his.

"How cold!" he said. "Kalim was merely doing his duty to discuss the needs of all students, regardless of how-"

His nose wrinkled.

"Talentless."

"Well, the Prefect's not that bad." A lukewarm praise. Even Kalim wasn't speaking highly of the Prefect? Just what was going on here?

"A total normie," Idia had said.

"It's true, the potato could use some work," Vil said,

Wow. These housewardens sure did hate you, didn't they?

Wrong! At that moment, all of the, were lying! They liked you. And no one in that room had any clue how to deal with it.

Riddle hasn't ever really got to experience relationships due to the stifling pressure of his mother. Thus, he has absolutely no clue how to handle the sudden affection for you he feels. He'd often stop by Ramshackle to help you with your homework. Just because you happened to need it way more than the others, of course. N-No ulterior motives here. What do you mean 'his face is red'? You're just imagining things!

Leona's always been treated like a cold, uncaring individual, and that's what he's used to. That leaves him completely flabbergasted when you suddenly start making him lovesick. He happens to "accidentally" drop money and the like while you were near. Not that he wants to help you, of course! He just doesn't really care about the money that much. Why're you looking at him like that? He's not that kind of sap!

Azul's childhood's left him used to rejection. After so long of being mocked for any desire of love and companionship, he's shunned it. Love's just business to him, an easily exploitable emotion. So he'll never be able to admit it now that he's the exploitable one. He gives you stuff... for free? Since when did he do that? Ask him about it and he insists he's just doing it for business' sake. What kind of business? Is he sure he doesn't just like you? W-What sort of foolish questions are those? Do you honestly think him capable of such an illogical sentiment as "attachment"?

Kalim, of course, isn't immune. Even he doesn't understand this. Someone actively returning his kindness? He's absolutely in love, and he doesn't know how to handle it. Although he won't be quite as abrasive as the others, he'll definitely struggle to admit his feelings. He might actually be less nice to you than to others. Not in a rude way, of course, he's just a bit quiet because he's always so flustered around you! Can you blame him?

Vil, too, despite his normal mentality of being candid and mature, struggles to handle his affection. He'll buy you skincare and the like. B-But, he'd do this for anyone, of course. There's nothing particularly special about the way he feels for you! Once again, though he isn't particularly defensive, he'll definitely struggle to admit his feelings, and it causes him boatloads of internal conflict. Why's he being so immature all of a sudden?

Idia doesn't get you. Why'd some normie suddenly have to start talking to him? J-Jeez, it's not like he enjoys your company or anything! Idia can vaguely recognize the word 'tsundere' in his head as he mulls over his interactions with you, but he denies it. Denying his feelings? U-Uh, what feelings?

"Looks like you have some competition, huh?"

"What competition, Lilia?" Malleus's face twisted in displeasure. "The Child Of Man- they're merely a friend."

Malleus doesn't know how to feel. He's never really had these sorts of close relationships before, so when his heart pounds around you and sparks seem to fly, he has no clue what to do. He's so deep in denial, partially due to his obliviousness when it comes to matters of sentiment and partially due to how he's used to being intimidating, and blushing like a schoolgirl around one's crush is the opposite of intimidating.

[bellaxgiornata]

Congrats Bella!!! From one mama to another - what are your headcannons for Matt and Frank with a pregnant partner and how do they adjust to fatherhood (again in Frank’s circumstance)?

Thank you!! 💕And ohhh boy, do I have THOUGHTS on this topic for Matt and Frank in particular. Some of the thoughts about Matt you'll see bits of in Seeking Forgiveness and even more in future installments of FFTD (like way later for that series), and the ones for Frank I've wanted to include in a possible second part to You're Body is Not a Graveyard or something else entirely because there is a lot that can be discussed. Of course, I'll put everything below the cut (and y'all can keep sending things in from my celebration post here).

Matt Murdock Adjusting to Fatherhood

From the very beginning, right after initially finding out you were pregnant, Matt would absolutely be internally beating himself up. That man would be thinking he's going to fail as a father right from the start because despite all Matt's cocky confidence, he's got a lot of self-loathing and insecurities going on under the surface. And if you were having a boy? You can guarantee that comment about the Murdock boys having the Devil in them would be in his head constantly.

But despite that, the very first moment he hears the baby's heartbeat would bring him to his knees. That rapid, fluttering sound would become one of his favorites instantly. Because despite his fear of failing you and baby, knowing that child was his would have him feeling a love he's never experienced before. Especially with how much and how long he has been feeling alone in the world after his father's passing, knowing that baby was his family would be a very big deal to Matt and would often leave him indescribably emotional.

With his heightened senses, Matt would become bonded to baby quicker than most fathers generally are before birth. He would always be checking in on baby's heartbeat, zeroing in on the sound of baby's movements as they grew bigger, and even the way he'd be feeling their movements over your stomach would be an entirely different experience for him with his sense of touch. You'd definitely catch him occasionally grinning to himself in the apartment or while you were out because of something he was listening to baby doing. 

When it came time for baby to be born, the man would be in a panic getting you to the hospital. It would be almost comical to see, making it seem like he was the one about to give birth with how he was acting. But really? He would be hearing every painful contraction you were suffering through with his senses, suffering through each one with you in his own way because he hated seeing you in pain and not being able to help. He'd be having a hard time trying to keep himself in check in the hospital while you gave birth, his senses making the entire experience terrifying for him, but he'd do his best to be there for you. 

Once baby was born, Matt would be all about the skin to skin. He would shed his shirt and want to hold the baby as soon as you'd give him the chance. And that newborn smell? With his nose it would be something even more amazing to Matt–a very big dopamine hit for him. 

Back home, he would do his best to help out with baby despite feeling like he was in over his head. But he would quickly realize he was amazing at anticipating what baby needed with his heightened senses, knowing when they were hungry or tired or needed a diaper usually right before they even started to cry. 

But Matt would still be going out as Daredevil in the evenings. Despite his fear of leaving his own child fatherless through his actions (like his own father), it still wouldn't be something he could give up. Though he'd do his best to compromise with you about it all. But admittedly, he'd always have a part of himself distracted, keeping an ear out for anything going on back home. Because as much as he loves Hell's Kitchen, his own child would ultimately come first.

Frank Castle Adjusting to Fatherhood for a Second Time

Frank would initially have a hard time discussing starting a family with you after everything he'd been through with losing the family he thought he'd always have. But deep down, he'd ultimately know that's what he wanted with you. Not a do-over or a replacement family, but a chance at being happy again, of feeling that love he once felt instead of the empty, hollow space in his chest.

Finding out you were pregnant would be a mix of emotions for him. He'd be crying on the bedroom floor with you when you brought him that positive pregnancy test. Tears of joy at the new life already growing within you, but also tears of a deep, indescribable grief at the memory of the first time Maria had told him the very same thing.

He would attend every OB appointment you asked him to come to. Every ultrasound he would be right there holding your hand, fighting tears as he watched his baby's movements up on the screen. And every time he heard the baby's heartbeat when they checked would be like the first time all over again, a wave of relief crashing over him to hear that sound and to know everything was okay. Because deep down he'd always be terrified of another loss.

Frank would be going out of his way for you during your pregnancy. You're craving a cheeseburger or cookie dough ice cream at midnight? You can guarantee he'd be out the door getting it for you. Your feet are sore or swollen or your back was killing you? He'd be demanding you sit down, kick your feet up, and let him give you a massage. You're throwing up because of horrible morning sickness? He'd be right there holding your hair back without a word, bringing you your toothbrush and some mouthwash afterwards.

But that doesn't mean you wouldn't find Frank occasionally sitting outside in the backyard or on the edge of your bed alone and crying. Mourning the loss of Lisa and Frank Jr. along with Maria. Because the pain of that would never leave him, something you'd long since understood. There would certainly be times you'd be the one silently offering him comfort while he struggled with his grief being painfully brought back to the surface during the entire experience.

On lazy days and late nights, you'd be sitting with Frank, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling as you listened to him talk to your growing bump. His large hand would be affectionately resting atop it, and if baby managed to hit or kick him? He'd chuckle and happily accept the interruption.

When it came time for you to give birth, you can absolutely believe that man on the outside would look completely calm and in charge. He'd have the hospital bags packed and in hand while guiding you to the car. He'd stay awake with you through labor, no matter how many hours it lasted, and getting you whatever you needed. He'd be there calmly talking to you and doing what he could to ease your mind. But internally? He'd be panicking. Terrified of something going wrong, afraid God or someone would punish him for the things he's done and take both of you away from him in one fell swoop. And if that happened, he'd believe he deserved it, too.

But once baby was born and he was assured that you were both perfectly safe and healthy, he'd be pulling off his shirt and accepting his newborn from your arms. And he would be a hysterical, bawling mess as he held that tiny baby in his big arms. Whenever he could finally get the tears to lessen, you'd be hearing him promise that baby a million things with the biggest, watery smile on his face.

Despite Frank still having quiet moments of grief that you'd catch him trying to hide from you, moments where he'd be mentally reliving experiences from his past that still hurt him, he would be present for absolutely everything with you and baby. Diaper blowouts, late night runs to the store for formula, burping baby over his shoulder and being entirely unfazed by baby spitting up all over himself. Every cry in the middle of the night would wake him and he'd be right there, doing whatever needed to be done without a single word of complaint no matter how exhausted he was.

Frank would internally have long since made a vow to protect both you and baby no matter what, and he'd take that vow very seriously. But he'd also vow to never miss or not appreciate a single moment this time around--a smile, a first word, first steps. He'd be there for it all. And you'd certainly never catch him miss an opportunity to read them a bed time story to sleep every single night.

I could certainly go on with way more, but then this post would be massive 😅 These are just a few of my thoughts about these two as fathers!

[impale-me-radio-daddy]

The Lookalike (Part 7)

☒ Summary: The first thing you remembered after your death was an argument. “No, this isn’t one of my fucking sluts.” The man behind you exhaled, frustrated. “This is a present for you. Something to help you work through your Alastor fixation.” You awaken in Hell as the near-spitting image of a certain infamous radio host. Unfortunately for you, you immediately fall into the clutches of his nemesis, then into the arms of the radio demon himself. 

☒ Warnings: hermaphrodite!reader, deer!reader, they/them pronouns used, reader x Alastor, reader x Vox, Alastor x Vox, explicit content, reader is in Hell for a reason, Valentino, canon typical scenarios, injury, gratuitous use of tentacles.

☒ Series links: Part I Part2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 6 BONUS SCENE

The fight you’d had with Alastor hadn’t exactly quelled your bloodlust, but it had taken the edge off. He still hadn’t let you leave the hotel, though, and you could guess the reason. The pending confrontation gave a purpose to the edginess you felt, and you were settled into a quiet, predatory waiting.

You made the small preparations you could, and listened to Alastor’s record collection on the newly repaired player.

It was a little scary how quickly the bedtime routine had charmed you, the half hour of quiet before Alastor would sigh and put his book aside, lights dimming, his body warm through the thin fabric of your pajamas. Sometimes you would kiss, sometimes you would talk in the dark, limbs casually twined. Your conversations had moved to more dangerous topics than mere pleasantries; now you talked about musical theory and parts of your mortal lives, topics that you could argue about and secrets that were sweet, inconsequential morsels of each other. The death of a childhood pet, the use of steel guitar on a certain record, a half-remembered fairground treat. All of this was bookended by his smiling lips soft against yours, at once chaste and suggestive. His kisses were a question- would you debase yourself, ask for more than he was so generously giving? Or would you simply close your eyes and hope that his lips would part for you, that the tips of his sharp teeth would graze your lips, his tongue twining against yours?

Sometimes he would do the latter, kissing you until the ache of arousal resounded like a drumbeat between your legs, and then draw back, smiling, and announce that he was going to sleep.

In the morning, both of you would wake but not admit to having done so, basking in the plausible deniability of the early hours. His breathing, steady rather than deep, told you that the way he pressed against you was deliberate, and you suspected that your breathing told him the same as you twined your fingers with his and raised his hand to your lips. The noise that escaped him was soft, somewhere between a sigh and a squeak, and when you rose from the bed, his eyes held the unspoken expectation that you would tell no-one of it.

That morning was languid, waking as usual with Alastor, performing your ablutions, dressing, and sitting down for breakfast. Food in Hell was an odd mix, really. Some things tasted pretty normal, considering the changes to your physiology. Others, well.

You watched as Alastor dumped the rotting deer carcass on the table. “Really?”

Alastor’s gaze was knowing. “Sit.”

There were flies buzzing around the corpse. One landed on the head, crawling between the creatures ears, and the scent of decay was ripe and heavy. You didn’t have a particularly weak stomach; couldn’t afford to, but everything about this was making your brain scream that this wasn’t food. “If this disagrees with me, then-”

“Then?” Alastor raised an eyebrow.

“Then you’ll want me in a different bedroom.”

“Darling.” Alastor gave a snort of laughter as he took his seat. “If I wanted to poison you, I wouldn’t need to go to such lengths.” He stuck a fork in the side of the deer, twisted it, and pulled a chunk of meat out for himself, popping it in his mouth and chewing slowly.

Rather than give you the fork, he skewered a second forkful of meat himself, twisting it out, and offered it, tines first.

The smell alone made you want to recoil, but Alastor had eaten the flesh, and you did trust him. Enough to fight down your baser instincts, and accept the gift, at least.

You opened your mouth and let him feed you, keeping your eyes on his. The venison wasn’t bad, actually. The sweetness of the rot took away the gamey edge of the meat, and rendered it more tender than the flesh of a wild animal had any right to be. Your opinion clearly registered on your face, because Alastor’s smile widened a little, the corners of his eyes creasing.

“See? What did I tell you?”

Truthfully, you didn’t mind the treatment he gave you, and being fed morsels by him was part of that. In isolation it would have felt strange, but having woken up draped over each other a half hour previously, you simply soaked in the flash of pride that flickered across his face as he saw you enjoying the dish.

He was feeding you a second forkful as Vaggie burst into the room. “Alastor, there’s a documentary crew-”

Alastor turned his head towards her, only his head, the fork remaining by your mouth. “It’s rude to enter a gentleman’s room unannounced, you know,” he said, mildly.

Vaggie looked at Alastor, then you, then Alastor, expression somewhere between irritation and disgust. “There’s a whole load of them, and we could really use a hand.”

“Could you now?” Alastor turned back to you, dabbing your bottom lip with a napkin. “The king of Hell missing in action, is he?”

“Just come help,” said Vaggie, with a shake of her head.

Alastor smiled broadly. “Absolutely not.” His expression shifted subtly, to a smile that you had learned to associate with Alastor being pleased with himself. “I believe we had an agreement. That I would never be required to engage with the frivolous technology known as television ever again.”

Vaggie glared at him. “You’re still holding me to that?”

“Of course! I take all of my deals very seriously.” Alastor tilted his head. “Was that all? I was hoping to finish my breakfast with my friend here.”

Vaggie slammed the door on the way out, a few choice curse words in her wake.

“You’re worried,” you said, watching Vaggie leave. Approaching Alastor in the work day would have him waving you away with a snide nothing, but for now you were alone and unobserved.

His ear twitched towards you, eyes not leaving the door. “Vox is well within my capabilities,” he replied, a little terse. Despite all his talk, Alastor was on edge. You could tell from the strained corners of his eyes, the way his shadow flickered and skulked.

You watched him carefully. Vox was a sore spot; the two of them had history. Questioning Alastor’s capabilities at this point, or even pointing out his injuries, would only earn you his ire. “I have skin in this game too.”

“You are a freshly dead soul,” said Alastor, pointedly. He was right, in a way. You had no power; neither shadows or electricity at your command. The only element that could feasibly be yours to command was the element of surprise. “As I said before, if you can avoid his hypnosis, that would be convenient. I’d rather not have to disable you.”

You gave him a long stare, your gaze settling on his throat, where he still wore his collar buttoned high. “You’re sure there’s nothing else I can do?”

“No. Although…” Alastor gave you a sultry look. “If you could see to it that you’re smiling today?”

Vox was sure this was a trap.

But fuck it if he wasn’t about to go in anyway. Velvette would tear him a new one for going in without consulting her. Val would tear him a new one for not inviting him along to Angel Dust’s living space. Vox had considered the latter, but dealing with Valentino’s probable tantrum over Angel Dust on top of whatever Alastor had planned for him was too much on the plate, even for him.

Being in the radio demon’s territory like this, even with the invitation, felt wrong. It made Vox feel uneasy. The feeling wasn’t helped by the lack of electronics in the hotel; about half the light fixtures seemed to be powered by angelic magic rather than actual electricity, and someone, Alastor if Vox had to guess, had set up Faraday enclosures in the walls through much of the rest of the hotel, which had the documentary staff complaining about poor signal, and Vox worrying about escape routes if this went badly. Yeah, this was definitely a trap.

Alastor traipsed through the hotel in your usual outfit of waistcoat, shirtsleeves and definitely not Alastor novelty fez, allowing himself a small smile for decency’s sake. It was strange how differently the other staff treated him in your disguise; even grumpy old Husker gave him a perfunctory nod as he passed, which he returned with a gesture he’d seen you perform, touching his index and ring finger to his brow.

Charlie was showing the film crew around, her smile as big as anything as she talked about the hotel’s mission, and the process of rebuilding the hotel after the failed extermination. As Alastor suspected, Vox was there, tailing behind the rest of the group.

Of course, you hadn’t picked a moniker for yourself yet, which wasn’t all that uncommon for fresh souls. Angel Dust called you Smiles Two briefly, before switching to a joking Full Range of Facial Expressions. Husk and Vaggie both stuck with Murder Twin, and Niffty had for some reason that Alastor couldn’t fathom settled on calling you Comrade. As far as Alastor had seen you were entirely beneath Lucifer’s notice, but on her handful of visits Angel Dust’s friend Cherri referred to you as Resting Bitch Face Alastor.

“Oh, hey there-” Charlie waved, clearly hesitant on the prospect of calling someone Murder Twin in front of a documentary crew.

“Charlie! Hello!” Alastor softened his transatlantic accent just slightly to sound more like you. “No time to chat, I have rooms to clean!”

“Oh, okay!” chirped Charlie, as Alastor sauntered past. “Keep up the good work!”

Alastor made a show of noticing Vox as he passed the group. Just as truth made the foundation for all the best lies, so to did true feeling make the best foundation for a charade. Alastor centered his memories of Vox; of poor, hopeless young Vox, so eager to impress. That Vox, he had been very fond of, once upon a time. And now? Vox’s power worried him, planting seeds of fear in his heart. In his current state, he could not afford a direct confrontation. Alastor called on all of this for his expressions. At the first glance, he let his eyes widen with shock, his smile faltering but not falling, before he turned to go.

Vox wasn’t stupid enough to chase Alastor down a blind corridor, but he was stupid enough to chase someone he thought was you. Alastor’s face broke into a grin as he heard Vox come after him, splitting from the group. The rebuilt hotel was a maze of corridors, and Alastor made sure to lead Vox down a few before coming to the planned dead end, facing the wall.

Vox grabbed Alastor, arm around his waist. “He’s made you into a fucking janitor? You shoulda stayed with me, baby.”

Alastor shoved down the shriek of distortion that rose within him at the unwanted contact. “Get your hands off of me.”

“C’mon, be reasonable here.” Vox was wheedling, now. He had learned that from Alastor. “I could treat you like royalty.” His touch was much too familiar, claws trailing below the navel to Alastor’s hips, and the thought of him touching you like this left a burnt, sour taste in Alastor’s mouth.

“Oh, could you now?” Alastor let the act slip, let his antlers grow, let his filters lend distortion and depth to his voice. “That’s not what you said in your last broadcast.”

Vox’s eyes grew wide as the realization that he had just bodily grabbed the radio demon settled in. He let go, stepping back. “Fuck! Alastor!”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Alastor smiled to himself as he turned. He had Vox right where he needed him, off balance and falling into reflexive deference. In this sort of state, using his hypnosis wouldn’t even occur to the man. “Did you mistake me for my double? And after we’ve known each other for so long, too. I’m disappointed.”

“You tricked me, you old timey-” Vox started, but when he saw the look in Alastor’s eyes, he flinched. “I’m fuckin’ sorry, okay? It’s hard to tell the difference.”

“That was a very familiar embrace you gave me,” said Alastor, stepping forward, intruding into Vox’s personal space. “Could it be that you’re fond of my little impostor? That you’ve come to get them back?”

Alastor watched Vox’s face closely. Even now, after their estrangement, the man was an open book to him, and he registered the slight panic as his statement hit home. Vox was very fond of you, it seemed. All the more reason for Alastor to make his claim clear.

Vox didn’t admit it, though, and took a deep breath before he spoke. “No,” he lied, eyes closed. “I’m just here to talk about your offer. That’s all.”

Alastor smiled. “Splendid,” he said.

“Holy shit.” Vox sat back in his chair, exhaling. “You’re actually going to let me watch? From the armchair?”

The three of you were sat round a table in Alastor’s room, wards on the door so thick that the flies from the swamp dropped dead when they flew near it. As per Alastor’s instructions, you kept smiling, careful not to make prolonged eye contact with Vox. Vox’s gaze kept flicking between you, Alastor, and the neatly made bed behind you

“For a price, yes.” Alastor’s eyebrows rose, his grin predatory. “I might be old fashioned about these things, but I still have an eye for when something is going for considerably higher than the expected market rate. And when someone petitions a power higher than myself to breach my privacy, well. I’d be a fool if I didn’t at least consider a counter-offer. Particularly when I stand to lose nothing.”

“Alastor.” Vox’s expression froze briefly, as if he was having trouble processing what he was hearing.

“After all-” Alastor’s smile widened. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, isn’t that right, old chum?”

You sat back and listened to the two of them negotiate. It was only pragmatic that Alastor do the talking. He knew Vox better than you did, and had a clear notion of the worth of things in Hell, whereas you were only vaguely aware of the currencies available. Your job, as you had discussed with Alastor, was to keep Vox distracted and off-balance.

As Alastor conjured the contract he had prepared from the air beside him, your hand went to your neck, loosening your cravat with a sigh. Your reward was Vox’s eyes on you instantly, hungry.

You ran your gaze up his body, from the slight tent in his pants to the bow tie at his collar, watching his larynx bob as he swallowed saliva. It helped that it wasn’t entirely one-sided; for all his flaws you knew that Vox was still a good lay, and the sight of him wasn’t an unwelcome one.

Alastor tapped the table with a single, impatient talon. “If you’re keen to begin, you can simply sign the contract as-written,” he said.

Fortunately for Vox, his erection hadn’t quite siphoned all of the blood from his brain. “Lemme read it first,” he growled, taking the papers into his hands.

As Alastor had predicted, Vox was skim-reading, checking for clauses that would forfeit his soul or his power, too off-balance and horny to do much more. There were no such clauses- Alastor considered it poor sport- but what the document did contain were a multitude of conditions that meant the voyeurism was exactly to Alastor’s specification. No recordings, for example. And no touching.

“I’m adding a requirement,” said Vox, turning to the last page.

“Oh?” Alastor’s smile was steady

“I get to see you cum.”

Alastor gave a hiss like water falling on a hot pan, his eyes turning black, and you felt like he was seconds away from ripping out Vox’s heart and feeding it to him.

“C’maan, this is a fair ask.” Vox raised his hands in protest. “If I’m paying for it, it can’t just be an act, yeah? I should get to see you lose yourself, for real.”

Alastor’s grin was fixed in place as he reached for the contract, eyes skimming Vox’s wording. “I suppose that is a fair expectation,” he said, a note of reluctance in his voice. “I’ll grant it.”

You sat on the bed, letting Alastor undress you as Vox watched from the overstuffed yellow armchair by the headboard. He was pretending nonchalance, but it was clear that this wasn’t something that was meant to last.

“Darling,” said Alastor, in a tone of voice tuned precisely to make you feel your own pulse through your body. “Tell me that you’re mine.”

You watched him as he undid the buttons on your shirt, steady and unhurried, and brushed the back of his hand with your fingertips, letting the touch linger. “I’m yours,” you said, not just for Alastor, but for Vox, who was listening.

Your reward was a kiss, sweet and soft as anything you’d shared in the privacy of your nights together. It was enough for you to close your eyes, leaning into him as his hot tongue stroked yours. You embraced him, forearms locking behind his head, your fingers in his hair.

Jealousy. Jealousy was the axis upon which everything turned, two demons seizing the whole of the world with their fists and screaming in indignation at the debris that squeezed out between their fingers. And you were caught in this hellish mechanism; between Vox, who saw you as Alastor’s pale shadow, and Alastor, who saw you as a part of himself, saw the comfort he sought from your body as merely a medium for self-pleasure.

Vox’s eyes on you were jealous; jealous of your proximity to Alastor, the way he spread you out under him, touching you through the material of your trousers, but also jealousy of Alastor, to have you under him so rapt, so pliant.

Alastor’s eyes on you were jealous; jealous of having to share you with anyone. He begrudged Vox even the sight of you, and so he greedily filled your vision with him and only him, prompting affirmation from your words as he removed your clothes, piece by piece.

“Tell me that you’re mine. My possession, my property. My thing.”

Not for the first time, you were naked under Alastor, your cock hard and weeping, precum beading and dribbling from the tip.

“I’m yours,” you repeated, voice catching in your throat as Alastor pressed his palm to your cock, curling fingers around your shaft. “All yours, Alastor.”

“Fuck,” Vox breathed, his voice down at the bottom of his register and laden with vocal fry.

“Nice try, old pal,” said Alastor, his eyes still firmly on you and undertones of arousal creeping into his voice. “But I believe our contract stipulates that you don’t get to make requests.”

Part of you had been surprised that Alastor had drafted the contract to allow Vox to speak at all, but you could see the way his cock hardened in his trousers as he shut Vox down. There was one thing that Alastor loved more than anything, and that was being in control of a situation.

“Now,” Alastor continued, his smile wide, and you were quite happy to let him continue, with his grip on your cock applying the perfect amount of pressure, a lazy slide up and down your shaft. “If you would like to renegotiate we can all put our clothes back on and sit down, and-”

“Oh, hell no-” Vox backtracked rapidly. “This is fuckin’ peachy, Al. Great. I swear.”

“I see.” Alastor smirked. He turned his attention back you you. “Would you like a tentacle in you, darling?”

Your eyes must have widened, because he added. “You seemed to enjoy it, last time.”

Vox cursed to himself as you nodded yes, and Alastor pushed your thighs apart, extending a tentacle from his back. You reached up, stroking Alastor’s thigh, then his cock, through the material of his trousers as he pushed his tentacle into you. His grip on your cock tightened fractionally as you stroked him, the tentacle making an obscene, wet noise as he fucked the first couple inches of it back and forth into your cunt. The motion was almost teasing, the tentacle playing at sensitive flesh rather than seeking further egress, and you whined at the sensation.

“Oh, fuck me that’s hot. I can’t believe you’re using those like that- you got any idea how many people I’ve seen him kill with those things?”

“I’m fairly sure he’s killed people with his hands too,” you murmured, and Alastor gave a bark of laughter, completely unrehearsed, his expression softening utterly for a fraction of a second into fondness before he resumed the grin he’d worn a second prior, tentacle squelching deeper into your cunt for good measure.

You whimpered at the stretch, stroking the shaft of his cock between the palm and heel of your hand, and Alastor rocked his hips, a low vacuum tube hum in his throat as he rutted into your touch, his hand around your cock falling into the same languid rhythm. You unfastened his fly, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants and took it into your hand. Alastor gave a pleased noise as you settled your grip, his skin almost hot to the touch.

“Holy shit.” Vox’s eyes were fixed on the two of you, practically hypnotized by the scene, his usually brash tone rendered almost reverent. His hand went to his own fly, and he gave a yelp as something forced him back into the chair.

“Ah ah ah,” Alastor looked up from you for a moment, his expression gleeful, the tentacle inside you stilling alongside his hand.

“Alastor, what the fuck.” Vox’s arms were pulled to the arms of the chair by luminous green chains, and he strained against them. It was the first time you’d seen the constraints of a deal hit someone like that, and it wasn’t at all what you had expected.

“The contract states that you can masturbate if given permission,” said Alastor, his grin almost gleeful. “I have not yet given permission.”

“What? You want me to fuckin’ beg?” Vox’s screen glitched.

“Oh Voxxy, you always were a quick study.” Alastor’s smile was broad, his cock in your hand hot and hard. “Yes. Please. Beg.”

“Oh, fuck.” Vox’s screen shimmered briefly pink, segments of pink remaining below his eyes. “Fuck me that’s fucking depraved.”

“Hm.” Alastor smiled to himself, his gaze going back to you. “That doesn’t sound much like begging to me.”

“C’maan, Alastor, don’t be like that.” Vox’s tone was wheedling. “Just let a guy touch himself, please.” He drew out the last please into three syllables, a whine.

“You can do better than that,” Alastor said.

“You’re breakin’ my balls here, Al. I need this.”

“You need this?”

“Al, please, I’m beggin’ ya.”

Alastor gave a pleased hum. “Better. Continue.”

“Please, please.” There was a proper edge of desperation to Vox’s voice now, his eyes fluttering closed. “This is all I can think of. I close my eyes and I see you going at it in the swamp, Al. I need it, please let me.”

“You need it.”

“Yes,” Vox hissed, his voice going a little high, a dark spot at the apex of the tent in his pants where his precum had soaked through the fabric.

“You’re a depraved little creature.”

“Al, please-”

“Say it.”

“I’m the one who’s depraved.”

“You’re the one who needs to come into a gentleman’s bedroom and watch.”

Vox flashed teeth. “Oh, fuck you!”

“I don’t believe that was on the table,” said Alastor, his smile cruel, and you felt his cock swell fractionally in your hand.

It was fascinating, watching Vox’s erection duel with his self-respect. You watched with Alastor as the man swallowed the final scrap of his pride, voice cracking a little as his spoke. “Please, Al. I’m the sick, pathetic fuck who needs to come into your bedroom and watch you. I’m so hard right now and it hurts, just let me touch myself. Please. I’m begging.”

“Oh, Vox. You can’t even cage a freshly minted replica of me. A failure as a jailer and a lover.” Alastor’s thumb went to your jaw, slowly tracing a line over your skin up to your temple. “So, I suppose I should show pity.”

“Please, Alastor-” Vox whimpered, and Alastor slowly inclined his head. Vox gasped as the condition lifted, and he hurried to free his own cock. “Fu-uck.”

You felt a twinge of desire as you saw it, remembering how tenderly and skillfully he had brought you to orgasm, and Alastor must have felt it around the tentacle inside you, because he looked at you sharply, eyes dark.

“Eyes on me now, darling,” said Alastor, a claw on your cheek giving you little other choice. “We don’t want our guest getting self-conscious, now.”

As if he hadn’t gotten halfway to his own end just by making Vox beg. The hypocrite. Still, the possessiveness was a turn-on. You smiled up at Alastor, giving his cock a deliberate, slow, squeeze. “I’m yours, remember.”

Alastor narrowed his eyes, mollified. “I should hope so,” he said, mirroring your gesture with the cruel addition of a curl of the tentacle inside you, pressing spongy flesh that drew a cry from your lips.

He leaned forward, supporting his weight on a second tentacle as he drew you in for a kiss. Where his kisses were usually considered and leading, this was fervent and messy, leaving you gasping for air when it broke, lips burning. He pushed your hand from his cock and brought your hips in line with his, shifting his grip so that your cock pressed against his, his long fingers wrapping around both.

“Alastor-” you managed to whimper, and he smiled.

You held on for dear life as Alastor did his damnedest to wreck you. His mouth covered yours, teeth and tongue and the taste of hot blood, rendering you breathless and voiceless save for the cries you made into his mouth. His cock was pressed firmly against yours, hot and hard and heavy, both of them wrapped in the steady curl of his fingers and palm. His tentacle was inside your cunt, deep enough for you to feel the stretch, hitting each sweet spot inside you hard enough to draw helpless, animal cries from your throat. His antlers were close to yours but not enmeshed, enough that you felt their static hum. You stroked Alastor’s shoulders, his back and down to his hips, doing your best to clutch at him without ruining his clothes, each roll of his hips threatening to make you curl your fingers and claw him.

“Fuck,” hissed Vox, his jerking off matching Alastor’s frantic rhythm, but Alastor was too preoccupied with your mouth to scold him. If Vox hadn’t spoken you might have forgotten he existed, the sensation of Alastor’s cock pressed hard against yours bright as fire in your brain, his bullying tentacle pushing you fast towards your precipice.

Alastor must have been less lost in the moment than he seemed, because he pulled the tentacle out of you just as you were nearing your end, leaving you gasping, cunt twitching, and deftly angled himself in just in time to feel you pulse around his cock. Your cum splattered your own stomach and chest, some on Alastor’s shirt, judging by the wet patches that had formed over his chest, and he smiled down at you, something like pride in his red eyes as he held your hips, keeping himself firmly inside you as you came.

“Fuck man, what a mess,” groaned Vox, voice tinged with admiration.

Alastor hummed in agreement, his eyes narrowing as he felt the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“I can’t say I think much better of your state right now though, old chum,” he said, his tone conversational. “You’re getting pretty sloppy yourself.”

Vox groaned again, and you realized that you could hear the rhythmic noise of his fist wrapped around his cock. “Al,” he whined.

Alastor just laughed to himself, and hooked your knees over his shoulders, his cock still firmly in your cunt. “Shall we begin?” he asked, and to his credit, he did wait for a nod from you before he did.

Though his cock was less impressive than the tentacle, with your legs on his shoulders and a slight forward tilt, he was able to reach all of the sweet spots the tentacle had. Your throat hurt from crying out, and your spent cock lolled untended below your navel, but the feeling of having your guts rearranged was still exquisite. Your cum pooled in the hollows of your collarbones as Alastor fucked you, your cunt still oversensitive, your cock not even soft yet, bouncing with each stroke, in time with the noises you made as the motion forced air from your lungs.

You were dully aware of Vox’s orgasm; his movement ceasing with a low moan, and Alastor’s smirk as he watched his rival coming undone.

“What’s this? Can’t stick it out til the end?” Alastor’s grin was fierce, his own breathing growing unsteady as his motion ripped another cry from your throat, his red shirt darkening with sweat.

“Fuck you,” Vox choked out.

Alastor grinned wide, teeth gleaming. “Never going to happen,” he taunted, and you felt the telltale twitch of his cock inside you as he closed on his own orgasm.

He grasped you more tightly as he chased it, intent on your voice and your eyes, bending you double a little more, a little more, until at last your thighs were pressed flush with your chest, and he kissed your lips, softly, as he hit that final sweetness. His cock pulsed inside you, once, with a wave of heat, before he pulled out, a second arc of cum hitting you neatly across the chest, then a third, then a fourth which landed in a hot line on your stomach.

“That- should fulfill everything,” said Alastor, sitting back heavily and tucking himself back into his pants. “You can go now.”

“What?” Vox blinked. He looked like you felt; stunned.

“The sex is over. The curtain has fallen. The show, concluded.” Alastor gave him a little wave. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

“Shit.” Vox sucked in air through his teeth. “You’re a real asshole sometimes, you know that Al?”

“And you’re a voyeur who inserts himself into people’s private lives,” said Alastor, with a thin smile. “Each of us has his burden to bear.”

Vox left with a stream of curses, slamming the door behind him, and Alastor lay down on his back on the bed, his smile a small, tight expression.

The wet spots forming on the front of Alastor’s shirt weren’t from sweat or cum, but blood.

“You’ve split your stitches,” you said, feeling a wave of guilt for not noticing sooner. Of course his pace had been more frenetic than usual; he’d been racing to push Vox out the door before Vox noticed.

Alastor looked as if he might deny everything, but closed his eyes instead, his smile tense. “If you could fetch me the surgeon’s kit?” he asked.

You picked up one of the towels left beside the bed for the purpose and gave yourself a cursory wipe down before stalking naked, first to the en suite to wash your hands with soap, then to the shelf where the tools were kept.

“You didn’t need to strain yourself like that,” you said, placing the wooden box down on the bed beside him and unclipping the clasps.

“Oh?” Alastor stared listlessly at the canopy above the bed. “What was my alternative?”

You retrieved the disinfectant, cotton, thread, needle and scissors, the same tools Alastor had used to stitch your arm, alongside a roll of bandages. “You could let me top.”

“In front of Vox?” Alastor gave a mirthful exhalation. “I would rather not let you deflower me in front of him, thank you.”

Deflower? Well, you couldn’t see him putting himself in the position of a submissive partner, at least not willingly. “But in general you have no objection?”

Alastor’s face colored, his gaze leaving yours. “Maybe,” he said. “Another night.”

For the first time, you unbuttoned Alastor’s shirt rather than the reverse. For someone who had seen you naked so many times, Alastor was surprisingly bashful, his gaze not meeting yours as you peeled away the bloody red fabric to reveal the soaked bandages beneath. You were struck with the desire to touch him, to run your palm over the soft concave lines of his belly, but you suspected that such a touch would be met with a blast of distressed audio, so instead you picked up the scissors, and set to work cutting the bandages away.

Alastor had never looked as small or as vulnerable as he did beneath you, his bloodied bandages peeled back. There was an ugly wound across his narrow chest, from his collar to his stomach and deepest over his sternum, the flesh either side livid and pink. He’d sewn it closed himself; you could tell by the way the stitches grew uneven as they grew closer to his dominant arm, and several of those nearest the center had ripped, the flesh on the side of the wound tearing where the thread had pulled it closed. Blood dribbled from the injury as Alastor’s chest rose and fell. If you hadn’t known that Alastor had been bearing the injury for as long as you’d known him, you would have guessed it had been made yesterday.

“I didn’t ask you to help with this,” he said, a worried edge to his smile, his ears lowering.

But, he did want your help, was the unspoken implication. “It’ll be easier for me to reach,” you pushed, more to preserve his pride than anything else. “It’s a pain to sew yourself up, after all.”

“Speaking from experience, I take it?” Alastor’s ears perked up a little, his eyes meeting yours.

You told him a story as you cleaned and stitched his wound, about how the hospitals in your old city always treated these sort of injuries with such suspicion, reporting them to the police. About how hospitals were overpriced and overrated anyway, and how anything that couldn’t be fixed at home with the correct tools probably wasn’t worth worrying about anyway. You kept talking, more to distract Alastor from the pain than anything else, and he watched you work with half-lidded eyes and parted lips.

“You’re good at this,” he said, as he watched you pin his bandages into place, fresh and bright white against his skin, and you felt the compliment bring heat to your cheeks.

“I’ll get you a fresh shirt,” you said, turning to go, but Alastor caught hold of you, drawing you to him. You felt the warmth of his bandaged chest against your back as he draped himself over you, the warmth of his bare arms around you.

Alastor breathed out heavily, a shaky sort of breath, his lips in your hair. “You will do no such thing,” he said, a tremor in his voice. “You will hold me. You will lie here and you will hold me.”

It was a silly demand, but you could do nothing save obey it. Not because a chain of obligation compelled you, but rather that your heart would not allow it to be otherwise.

[kyu-piddy]

The Mother-in-law

In celebration of Mother’s Day in my country, here are some headcanons of meeting characters' moms (and a grandma).

Gn reader x Jade, Floyd, Kalim, Sebek

Afab reader x Ruggie

Tw: None 

1.8k words

Having a boyfriend comes with extra relationships, and you’re about to meet one of the people most important to him.

Mama Leech

Mama Leech is a classy lady. Tall and lanky like her sons, she exudes an air of elegance but also threatening, her sharp teeth gleaming like pearls.

She sometimes comes to land on business matters, and knowing that you were dating one of her sons, she just had to meet you.

Sitting across from her at the Mostro Lounge is a nerve wracking experience. You feel like you have forgotten how to even use a fork.

She daintily stabs hers on the steak, her enigmatic yellow eyes never leaving yours.

Her voice is velvety smooth, sharing pleasantries with you, all talk but with as much substance as water has flavor.

Suddenly, she goes quiet, her teeth seemingly becoming more jagged.

“I hope you do have good intentions with my son. He’s a nice boy who deserves the best, don’t you think so?”

“I don’t know what the “best” could be, but I do think he deserves to be happy in the way he wants to be.”

She continues with amicable and innocent topics thereafter.

If you’re dating Jade, she’ll say:

“My dear Jade is such a hard worker. You must help him relax from time to time, or he’ll overwork himself.”

If you’re dating Floyd, she’ll say:

“My dear Floyd changes like the currents. When you’re around him you’ll never know how he’ll react! It’s so delightful.”

Regardless of who has captured your heart, she’ll offer you a little trade secret.

“There’s something nobody knows, not even his twin, that when he was little, he…”

Before she can continue, the tweels appear to retrieve the plates and silverware.

If you’re dating Jade:

“I hope the meal was to your liking.” says Jade.

“Jadeeee! Mamma was about to share something fun! ___ wants to know too, right?”

“But it is rather impolite to share others secrets, is it not, mother?”

If you’re dating Floyd:

“Mama! Ya can’t talk about me behind my back! I'm the one who’s gonna share secrets with ___!”

 “Now, now Floyd. We shouldn’t interrupt our clients' meal.”

Mama Leech smiles innocently at her children.

“It seems time has passed by way too quickly. I must take my leave.”

She stood up so graciously you would have never believed she had fins instead of legs most of the time.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, my dear. And you, my darling boys, don’t forget to answer my messages more often!”

With that said, she gave you and her sons a tight hug, before disappearing out the door.

Lady Al-Asim

Lady Al-Asim is a beautiful woman. She’s not called the rose of the desert for no reason. But unlike what that title might suggest, she is not fragile.

Once she learned that Kalim had gotten a partner, she wanted to meet them as soon as possible.

You’d be invited to spend some time with her in her wing of the Al-Asim estate, along with Kalim, so he could introduce you to her.

The meeting place is a room filled with pillows and carpets. As you sit on a plush purple pillow with golden embroidery, you can’t help but think that it must be worth more than everything in Ramshackle combined.

Kalim grabs your hand and smiles radiantly at you, calming your nerves.

Lady Al-Asim enters, a goddess among humans, ladened with jewelry and precious silks.

But the most beautiful part of it all is her warm gaze at seeing her son, and the way she walks slightly faster than what you assume is protocol to greet him.

After inspecting her son and filling him with kisses, she sits in the middle of a dune of pillows in front of you.

“Hello, my dear. How do you do?”

“You must be feeling awfully warm. I’ll ask for some drinks to be fetched. Are 12 varieties of tea and 23 of soft drinks alright with you?” 

Her words are polite and warm, and the conversation is pleasant.

Kalim sings your praises at every opportunity, and so does his mother, remembering with staggering accuracy the things he has told her (and they were many).

It feels like you’re in a competition to see who can praise you the most.

It’s embarrassing, but they’re both so genuine in their compliments and admiration that you can’t help but feel your heart well up with happiness.

“Oh goodness, look at the time. It’s getting rather late and you both need to go to bed early.”

Kalim deflates a little, but perks right back up.

“That’s fine, mother. After we graduate we’ll have way more time to chat like this, as a family!”

You almost spat the tea you were drinking, but Lady Al-Asim's smile just got bigger.

She escorted you both personally out of the room and into the teleportation mirror, giving Kalim a big hug and ordering servants to bring him piles upon piles of things.

Kalim went ahead, leaving you alone with his mom for a bit.

“Take care of my dear Sunshine. He loves you very much and I reckon you love him too. And above all else, be happy.”

Out of her pocket she retrieved a small golden bracelet.

“Ground my son. But also let him sweep you up in his magic carpet once in awhile.”

You arrived at NRC feeling warmer than when you were in Silk City.

Grandma Bucchi

Grandma Bucchi is a kind old woman. Her face is marred with age, but she moves with the speed of someone three times younger than her.

Ruggie wanted to introduce her to you, seeing as she is the most important person in his life.

Initially he was a bit reluctant to bring someone like you to the slums where he grew up, but since you were so insistent on meeting her, he eventually relented.

Once inside the house, a humble abode filled with knick knacks of various origins, a tasty smell fills your lungs.

Grandma Bucchi leaves the kitchen with her gray hair in a bun, cleaning her hands in her apron.

“Ruggie boy, is that you?”

“Yeah, Grandma. It’s me.”

The small woman approaches her grandson and squeezes his cheek.

“I could barely recognize you. You’re almost skin and bones. Don’t they feed you at that fancy school?”

As she stops pinching his cheeks she turns to you.

“So you’re the famous ___? You’re rather pretty aren’t you?”

Before you can thank her, the old woman is already walking back to the kitchen.

“I’m finishing my stew. Sit down and sip some dawa.”

“Grandma, let me help ya. You know your bones aren’t what they used to be.”

“Ah, boy! Don’t get between me and my kitchen. And don’t leave your datemate hanging.”

You sat down on the wooden chair and sipped the warm drink on the table. It had a sweet, and despite being warm, fresh after taste.

You both sat in silence, the sound of the sizzling water filling the background.

Soon after Grandma Bucchi came out of the kitchen holding a big pot, a heavenly smell permeating from it.

“Dig in, children.”

You gladly started eating, and soon the lul of chewing and conversation filled the room.

“I hope my grandson has been treating you well. He can be a handful sometimes, I tell you. But he’s a great cook.”

The day soon turned to night, and the time to leave was approaching.

“Before you leave, children, take the rest with you. I want you both to be eating well!”

“Granny, ya should keep it for you and the kids.”

“Oh, Ruggie, we have enough for all of us. Just don’t give me any more kids to take care of! At least for now.”

You both blush profusely, heat creeping up to your ears.

“We ain’t gonna do that! Bye, Grandma!”

You both hastily left, but you could swear you could hear the old woman chuckle under her breath “ah young love”.

Mrs Zigvolt

Mrs Zigvolt is a tall imposing woman, boisterous, full of pride for her family and also a truly powerful fae.

From the moment your relationship became official, Sebek wanted you to meet his mother. 

To him, she’s perfect, and he wishes for her to approve of his relationship.

When he got news that she’d visit the NRC campus he was overjoyed, and immediately designed a plan to teach you as much about fae culture as possible.

His passion is admirable, but it’s obvious he’s incredibly nervous, practicing in front of his mirror what he’ll say to his mother.

On the day of the visit, he waits for her in the mirror hall, standing as straight as if he was practicing a drill.

You put your hand on his shoulder, and see him relax just a tiny bit.

When his mother arrived, tall and full-figured, she reminded you of a well trained soldier, but the moment she saw her son her face lit up, and she quickly strode to him, hugging him with all his might.

“I missed you so much, Sebby! Look at you! You’ve grown so much!”

Her deep and mature voice was surprisingly complementary to her words.

Sebek kept his straight posture, his eyes gleaming like stars.

“Yes mother! I have grown exactly 2,7 cm since you last saw me.”

Mrs Zigvolt smiled lovingly at her son.

“And who might this be?” She asked, turning to you.

“Mother, this is the person I am romantically entangled with. They do not distract me from my studies nor my duty to protect Lord Malleus.”

“And do they make you happy?”

Sebek's cheeks turned bright pink, his posture becoming stiffer.

“Yes, mother. They make me very happy.

His mother clapped her hands and gave you a bright smile.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Has my son been treating you well, young one? I sure hope so! He can be a bit of a handful.”

She leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“We thought he’d never let himself find someone, especially so soon. But he did, and from what he has told us, he’s quite head over heels for you.”

“Mother, we must hurry if we want to complete the school tour on time!” called Sebek from the entrance, already on his way out, the tip of his ears pink.

“Yes, yes, Sebby. We’re coming!”

He left the mirror hall, and you started walking to catch up to him.

“One last thing.”

She lightly tapped your forehead with her clawed finger.

“Use your head, but don’t forget your heart, okay?”

You nodded your head, and she smiled, booping your nose.

“Now let us go to our Sebby, or the poor boy might die of stress waiting for us.”

You left the mirror hall with a good feeling about this first meeting.

[alastorsfuckassbobb]

Some of ya'll say you prefer pilot Alastor to show Alastor, and I can totally understand, but ya'll say he changed, I say he changed for the better. Like I dunno I FUCKING love show Alastor so much, like he's one of my favorite characters, ever. I don't even know what changed, it's not like I hated pilot Alastor, I just really could care less about him 😭 but new Alastor I love that bitch fool, he's so much appealing, and charming to look at, his personality is much more fleshed??? out to me, and also his voice is so much better. Like not to say the OG was bad, but I prefer Amir's version of Alastor so much more, I like how more higher in pitch it is, it really isn't but compare it to Edward it kind of is, I actually kind of prefer the new voice actors to the OG's it just suits them more, like I look at pilot Al, and I'm like, who tf is this this ain't my pookie mcdookie, like who tf even are you?? 😭 Like I will admit show Alastor is more edgy than in the pilot, but I dunno I prefer it that way, he just has more personality, and he is far more entertaining than in the pilot, I love this bitch so much 😘 Also I'm not gonna lie but pilot Alastor just sounds like he needs to drink water?? Like I don't know how to explain, it sounds weird, but.. And also, some of say you liked the sound effects, but mm, sometimes they were overdone to me, like a character moved, and there was like a little quack, they leaned into a character a noise was heard, It was just distracting to me 😭 Also, off topic but am I the only one that doesn't mind the cussing? Cause you all make it sound way worse than it actually is, it's not even that bad. :/ It honestly sounds like irl cursing to me, they really DON'T do it that much. It's there when it's needed. Vaggie also looks way more beautiful in the show, as well. They really all do, and I look the new artsyle more.

[eetherealgoddess]

hellooo, welcome backkk!!! I FUCKING MISSED YOU LIKE SOOO MUCHHHHH. Girl, I thought you left tumblr because honestly the majority of the best writers I also know left:( You're my fav writer so I was really sad AND GIRL WHEN I SAW!! WHEN I SAW THAT YOU WERE ACTIVE 3 HOURS AGO??? MAN I CREAMED. I CAME. I ORGASMED-

I also have a request!! Do you write incest? It includes it, but ofc if you're uncomfortable with it you can ignore mee~ it can be stepcest or ykkk anything you're comfortable with!! the story goes with mikey's cute little sister that's rebellious (both him and the reader ain't in good terms ever since the whole bonten happened)emo mikey finally snapped and decided to punish her when she did something VEEERRYYY unforgivable. He and his men (bonten) brutally like bruuutallly punished her. it can be smut or anything you want. whatever it is I'LL EAT IT UP MHMMMM SCRUM DILLY YUM YUM MY PUR PUR POOKIE WOOKIEEEEEEE

I appreciate the love and support!! ts had me dying LMAO

i do not write biologically related incest nor half siblings but i’m fine with writing stepcest (depending on the plot) and like a foster or adoption situation (all 18+)

i kinda sort of followed the timeline so there might be scenes that are not accurate to the manga/anime, tho i did it that way to fit it in better with the plot so the scenes aren’t as long <3

ALSOOOO!!! i could’ve made this waayyy more brutal but when i was imagining different scenarios i literally made myself sick 💀💀💀

ꨄRebelꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Au

❦Was it worth it?❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

(Mostly Mikey, Kazu, and Sanzu x Reader but read to catch the vibes :)

❣︎All of Bonten are included in this story except Mochi❣︎

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Rebel

You were never one to follow rules blindly. You always questioned what you were told no matter who fed the information. How could you not when you spend most of your childhood shipped from family to family like a worn out package that's been sent to the wrong destination repeatedly? It wasn’t until you aged eight years that you were finally adopted by a man who asked you to call him ‘Grandpa Sano.’

You were unprepared for the generosity you received from the Sanos, having been in situations where your foster family wanted nothing to do with you. Your negative experiences caused you to form a barrier, an outer shell that shields you from the vulnerability your brain wanted to protect you from. You were cautious, unknown as to why you were chosen. When you first arrived, you were greeted by the oldest sibling, Shinichiro. He was kind, sort of silly as he displayed his quirkiness whenever you would spend quality time together after you had grown to see him as a proper big brother.

Emma beamed when she saw you, excited that another girl would finally be around to become her companion in a house full of boys. When you were comfortable, you gained a sense of sisterhood you never thought you’d have the privilege to experience. The last Sano you had met was none other than Sano Manjiro, otherwise known as Mikey. The first contact was interesting as you both gave blank expressions to one another. After growing alongside the boy, you could tell the kid had a sense of cockiness, though rightfully so as you learn about his incredible strength.

Watching Mikey and Baji fight when they would practice their skills made you want to become as strong as them. You would observe their moves every chance you got, failing in your attempts until you would eventually succeed, resulting in you declaring a battle against Mikey. The boy gazed at your stern appearance before releasing a light hearted laugh. You didn’t dislike him, in fact you both grew closer as time went on. If anything, you were inspired by him, even if you came off as a bratty little sister who wanted to follow him around with all his friends.

Even at a young age you could tell that he would grow to be a good person. You felt safe in his presence, knowing that he counted you as family. Knowing that he grew to love you as well as you to the Sano family. You knew that Mikey would never hurt anyone, his soul radiating a warmth you have never seen before. That is, until the day came where all you heard was Baji’s begging for Mikey to stop as you watch in horror, the blood seeping from the corners of another one of his childhood friends, Haruchiyo’s mouth.

Your hands trembled as you eye the onyx orbs that bore into the boy on his knees, a cold expression laced with nothing but a shadow of darkness. Your own eyebrows were furrowed as tears streamed down your face while you switched gazes between the two boys.

“M-Mikey…” You whispered, listening to Senju as she cried in the background. He either didn’t hear you or ignored you. Whichever was the case didn’t matter as you heard him finally speak.

“Smile, Haruchiyo.”

His voice was deep, almost as if it wasn’t his own. You covered your own mouth as Haru began laughing hysterically as his tears mixed with the blood. You knew at that moment that something had switched. You didn’t know what exactly the change was, but you knew that absolutely nothing would feel the same.

Time passed as you all hit your pre - teen years and Mikey had formed his own gang, Toman. It was early in the making though you thought it was the coolest thing. You had let go of the negative image your mind had formed when the incident with Haruchiyo happened after Mikey had given a heartfelt apology to everyone, including the boy in the hospital bed. When you visited Haruchiyo, the young boy had confirmed his forgiveness and encouraged you to give Mikey some leeway. He was once again your inspiration as you reasoned with yourself that he just had a ‘moment.’

Everything was going normally for a while, Shinichiro teaching you how to ride a motorbike as well as Mikey allowing you to hang out with him and his friends occasionally. Kazutora and Baji pulled you along to search for a gift considering Mikey’s birthday is coming up. Having had a small crush on Kazutora for a while, you followed them, sitting behind the tiger tattooed boy with your arms wrapped around his waist.

It wasn’t until the mischievous delinquent explained his plan, in which you and Baji reacted with hesitation. He waved off your worries and claimed that the best way to obtain Mikey’s gift would be to steal from the store that holds his most ideal bike. When you arrived, you couldn’t shake the familiarity. It’s as if you have seen this place before but you don’t remember stepping foot into a bike shop ever in your life. As you stand to the side while Baji tries to move the bike, a presence causes you both to look up.

“Who’s shop do you think you’re breaking into…?”

“Y/n?” Your eyes widen at Shinichiro as the realization hits you.

Although you’ve lived with the Sanos for a few years now, you’ve never once stepped foot into Shinichiro’s bike shop. You’ve only come across pictures which is why there is familiarity. It completely slipped your mind that Shinichiro owns a place that just so happened to be this one.

“Shini… I…” He turned his head to meet his orbs with Baji’s.

“You look familiar, are you Keisuke?” Baji stutters as he attempts to respond. Just as he said his name, you both gasp as you watch Kazutora come from behind with a large tool, raising his arms before slamming them down. A resounding crack echoed througout the room as the weapon made contact with Shinichiro’s head.

Your breath hitched as you watched his body fall to the ground, landing with a thud. The same trembling you felt from your hands when you watched Mikey tear Haruchiyo’s face appeared as you stared down at Shinichiro’s lifeless body, the blood seeping under his head as it stained the floor. Baji drops to his knees as he hovers above the corpse, explaining to Kazutora who the victim was. The golden eyed boy could only respond by hyperventilating.

“What do we do? What do we do?” Baji croaks out, hand meeting his forehead as Kazutora’s fingers reach his own mouth, biting them as he stares in place with wide eyes.

“I didn’t do it… I didn’t kill him.” His voice trembled. You watch in fear as you eye the hysterical boys, falling to your own knees before sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around your knees as you whimper before the tears stream freely. Your bottom lip quivers as you gaze at your oldest brother’s form. You couldn’t help but take part of the blame considering you are a witness that could’ve done something to stop this madness before it occurred.

You listen to Kazutora’s ramblings as Baji attempts to call an ambulance. It was horrific to see them so distressed, a feeling of impending doom coming on as you realize there’s no coming back from this. Your mind ran through different scenarios on what would happen once the Sano family found out about everything.

“Let’s get outta here!” Baji says to you both though you couldn’t move, watching as Kazutora seems to lose his mind by the second.

“It’s all… Mikey’s fault.” Your eyes widen as you gaze at him with concern. “I need to kill Mikey.” He claimed with a distorted smile, tears threatening to fall. You could only stare in disbelief as the cops were heard outside the building.

When you all walked out, everyone except you binded, a head of blonde hair appeared in front of you with a surprised expression.

You watched as Mikey questioned Baji, in which he cried out an apology as Kazutora chants “Kill… kill…”

You were there for it all. You were there when Kazutora spent two years in juvenile, only to come back with a vengeance. You were there when Kisaki became involved as well as this random Takemichi kid who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. You were there for Valhalla's battle, witnessing Baji’s death as you held his head on your lap before Kazutora was arrested once more. You were there for the Christmas battle. You were there for the Tenjiku battle and you were there when Mikey disbanded Toman before he disappeared, followed by a few other people you had met.

There was even a time in your early adulthood when you went to visit Kazutora in jail only to find out he had been released a few years earlier than the ten years he was sentenced, seeming to have disappeared along with Sanzu and Mikey. For a while you blame yourself for not keeping in touch when everyone was initially ghosted by your brother. You wanted to give him the space you knew he needed considering he hadn’t been the same since you had first met.

Finally exhausted with your passive ways you decided to seek him out, figuring that you might be able to track the other members that disappeared as well. Although you kept in touch with Emma, Draken, Mitsuya, Chifuyu, and etc., you couldn’t ignore the yearning you felt to find your brother and friends. You missed them dearly. Unfortunately, nobody seemed to have known anything until you repeatedly bothered the dragon tattooed man to tell you the truth about Mikey’s whereabouts.

“Now that I’ve told you, forget about Mikey. Forget about the rest of em. It’s too dangerous, Y/n.”

Knowing that Draken is right, you listen. For a while you stopped your search and continued to live your life, working a 9 to 5 and coming home to your decent sized apartment. It wasn’t until you received a letter signed by the person you had been searching for. Once you reach the day that he wrote in the letter, you rush to meet him at the destination, speeding down the streets on your motorcycle.

Reaching the place, you eye the closed nightclub in awe. You wondered why he decided to meet you at this particular setting. You felt a rush of anxiety as you near the door, opening it before walking into the empty space. You walk through the dark room using the flash on your phone as you walk to the staircase, following Mikey’s instructions.

When you reach upstairs, you walk into the door he ordered. Your footsteps echo through the dark room, the sun outside illuminating through the open windows as a breeze flies across the room. Your eyes meet a head of platinum hair, indicating the back of someone’s head. The male who wears a black long sleeve shirt and pants sits with his back bent forward, arms on his lap as his head hangs low. The symbol on his neck stood out to you, reminding you of Izana’s earrings. Your eyes widen when realization finally clicks.

“Mikey?” You say, gaining momentum as you rush over to your brother. Before you could make it, a grip on your arm causes you to halt, as well as a firm pressure against the back of your head. You stare ahead as your breath hitches.

“Move at my pace.” The voice behind you demands. Having no other choice but to listen or risk an early death, you ignore your accelerated heart beat and follow alongside the body that shifted slightly to the side of you. Your eyes switch from the short man ahead to the person beside you, immediately catching the scar on the corner of the person’s mouth.

Sharp blue eyes suddenly meet yours during the observation, pink bangs swaying as his head faces you. His lips curve into a toothy smirk, eyebrows furrowing as he gives you a mischievous expression.

“T’s been a while, Y/n.” You turn away from him as you both walk closer to Mikey.

“I guess long enough to where you feel the need to have a gun against my head. As if we never knew each other.” You respond, irritation adding to your fear as you’re led to the chair in front of Mikey.

He only ignored you as his grin grew wider, guiding you to sit facing away from your brother. When your bottom meets the seat, Sanzu stood next to you with the barrel of the gun placed to your temple.

“Leave us, Sanzu.”

“Got it.” He responds before dropping his arm and walking towards the exit. “I’ll be downstairs.”

After giving you one more side glance, the pink haired man closed the door behind him as he walked out of the room.

“I heard you wanted to find me.” He says softly. Your fingers fidget in your lap as your knees are pressed together, feet spread apart. You chew on your bottom lip as you sit with a tense body, realizing the gravity of your situation and how dangerous it was to meet him with no sort of back up.

“This isn’t you. This isn’t how it was supposed to be…” You begin, shaking your head as you continue, “…I get it, Mikey. Everything that happened hurt like hell. Just because you went through something doesn’t mean you become the leader to a fucking criminal organization and kill lots of innocent people.”

When he didn’t respond, all you heard was your own breathing as you fought the tears that threatened to escape.

“You act like you’re the only one that went through anything. As if I wasn’t there experiencing as much pain as you! I didn’t run off and disappear and cause more harm to the streets, because there just wasn’t enough blood splattered!”

You had the understanding that you could be digging your own grave. The sorrow and anger hitting you all at once had your words slipping out fast. You missed him, who he was before. How could he have abandoned you like that?

“Y-you could’ve come to me. We could’ve been there and experienced it all together, Mikey. I-I know you’re just in pain, but I’m here. I’ve always been there.” You say the last sentence softly as your vision blurred from the moisture.

You listened as you heard rustling behind you, followed by footsteps leading towards your sitting figure. Your sobs went silent as a figure shadowed over you. The cold impact of the gun against your head causes goosebumps to run across your arms, a chill running up your back as you make eye contact with the man holding a weapon against your forehead.

Anyone could lose themselves in the void of his orbs. They bore into you coldly as he gazed down at you with a blank yet intense expression. Your bottom lip quivered as your eyebrows furrow angrily. His arm follows as you stand from your seat slowly.

“Is this all you know how to do now?” You almost growl, exhausted by the behavior your brother displays when you know he clearly has a hard time communicating his emotions. “Shoot whoever questions you. Murder instead of speaking on how you feel. When are you gonna grow up, Mikey?”

“Shut up.” He hissed. “You know nothing.” You only stare back in response, glaring at him as the gun cocks.

“Leave.” He states before lowering his arm. You watch the male as he makes his way to the exit. Before he walks out of the opened door, he turns his head to the side slightly, gaze still ahead.

“If we ever see each other again… I’ll kill you.” You chew the skin on the inside of your cheek as a nervous habit when he walks out, leaving you to allow the words to sink in.

In that moment, you determined that you would find a way to bring back the real Mikey. You couldn’t accept this. You would never accept this reality. You would do whatever it takes, even if that means going against your better judgment and acting on emotion, something you had a habit of doing. You don’t care what Mikey says nor have you ever listened when he told you not to do something. You don’t care that you’re risking your life by getting involved. You snatch the phone from your pocket before dialing a number.

“Naoto, I need your help.”

You didn’t know what to expect but it surely wasn’t almost succeeding in the take down of Bonten. Unfortunately, both you and Naoto missed a key detail to your plans which resulted in Bonten being free of the attention from the police. It didn’t help that some of the government officials involved were traitors to the force, having helped the criminal organization in secret.

Thick smoke polluted the building as a radiating heat caused you to sweat. You cough as your arm covers your mouth and nose, eyes squint as you see through the burning room. The alarms screeched as a warning to anyone near that a fire had been started. You heard the impact of whatever caused the flames, knowing a bomb had been planted somewhere inside which caused an explosion. You’re surprised that you’re still alive, along with some of the others who crawl and struggle towards the nearest exit, maneuvering through the limp bodies lying on the ground.

You search for your partner as you walk past broken furniture and office equipment, passing the body parts separated from the corpses who suffered the worst from the eruption. Unfortunately, you were hurt considering your limp, and the ringing in your ears definitely didn’t help. Your hearing has been out since you woke up. You search the police department, watching out for anyone familiar as you yell out, “Naoto!”

You continue through the damage, dodging any object that falls as you walk around the flames. An abrupt pressure on your back caused you to fall to the ground with a grunt, your hearing coming back just as you made impact with the floor. The platform of the bottom of someone’s shoe pushes you back to the ground when you try to pick yourself up.

The man behind you grabs a carton from out of his pocket, lifting the top before pulling a cigarette out. He set the box back in his suit’s jacket pocket before using a nearby flame to light it as he stretched his arm out. He brought the butt of the stick to his lips and sucked in as the remaining flame went out on the end of the cigarette. The man rubs the sweat off of his forehead using the sleeve of his suit, a strand of blonde hair swaying over his face as he drops the arm. He blew the smoke out as he gazed at your figure.

“I warned him about letting you go.” You could recognize that voice anywhere.

“Kazutora?” He takes another hit of his cigarette, holding his breath as he ashed it before blowing the smoke out of his mouth once more. A smirk grew on his face.

“You know, Y/n… I never took you for a snitch.”

“I never took you as a coward, but here we are. You kill people to feel a sense of control yet you’re always following someone else’s orders, seeking approval by anyone who’ll give it to you.” You state, irritated by the heat and the foot on your back.

The grin on his lips fell as he took another hit before leaning over and pressing the burning end of the cigarette against your neck. You gasp before releasing a shriek of pain, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. He holds it there for a moment as he stares down at you with a blank expression. He lifts himself back to a normal position once he removes the cigarette from your skin. A fresh bruise formed in the abused spot.

“Why did you guys become such fucking assholes?” You cry out.

“Come on, don’t start crying on me now Doll…” He chuckled, “…gotta save that for later when Mikey gets his hands on you.”

Before you could fight him off, his fingers squeezed firm against your pressure point. Your vision blurs before your head drops as you sink into darkness.

Your eyes flutter open as a spotlight shines on you. Attempting to lick your lips, you find yourself with a gag secured around your mouth. The red ball stretches your lips uncomfortably as they yearn to be moisturized. Your arms are cuffed above your head as your body is spread out completely nude on the bed. Your shrieks are muffled as the light dims, your knees pressed together as you attempt to cover yourself when you look down and eye the seven figures sitting out on a slightly lower platform, as if you’re on a small stage.

Marijuana and alcohol fills the air, along with the smell of tobacco as you watch the smoke fumes form above a few of the men. Your eyebrows furrow as your toes curl, embarrassment causing a warm face as you shut your eyes tightly, wishing to escape this moment as you’re sprawled out for a bunch of dangerous men. You hear footsteps in the quiet room, someone walking towards the bed.

Mikey appears in your vision as he looks down at you from the side. Your eyes water as you glare at him, disbelief from the fact that your own brother set you up like this. The boy you grew up with who inspired you to go past your own limits. The boy who wanted to make a new era for delinquents. No, you couldn’t believe this.

His fingers slowly traced over your stomach as they moved towards your chest, grazing around the outlining of your breasts. You couldn’t help the whimper of desperation spilling out through the gag, your body beginning to tremble as you realized the gravity of this vulnerable situation. You wanted this to stop. You wanted it all to stop before there’s no return.

“I left you alone…” His fingers dragged themselves across the middle of your breasts, slow and delicate with his touch. “…I warned you, Y/n.”

He slightly leans over as his hand moves to your lower stomach, rubbing the lining nearest to your pubis. Your breath hitched as you gaze at him with wide teary eyes.

“You’ve never been one to listen, have you?” The small smile that formed as he said the statement vanished as quickly as it came. Your stomach sucked in as he used his fingers to lightly glide back up to your chest before circling his hand around your neck, his index finger tapping your face twice. He leaned forward until he hovered right over your face.

“You’ll learn.” You release a shriek as your eyes shut tight, his fingers digging into the burnt skin against your neck, adding a painful pressure to the wound as the tears streamed down your face. When you open your eyes to a squint, his gaze is relaxed. His eyes made him look dead. He released you before walking to the end of the stage and turning to face the crowd, his hands behind his back.

“From now on you belong to me.” He turns his upper body to face you. “You’ll only get to eat, sleep, and breathe because of me. You will do as I say.” A taller figure began to walk on the stage, a familiar pair of purple eyes gazing down at your figure with his signature sly smile. The tall short haired man held a baton that rests on his shoulder as he stops next to the bed, closer to your lower body.

“You deemed yourself a traitor so you will be held accountable. Sister or not.”

You fidget with discomfort as you eye the weapon Ran holds with a concerned expression. He only gives you a mischievous smile in return as he drops his arm, awaiting instructions from his boss.

“If you disobey me…” His eyes switch to Ran before the taller man brings his other hand to the object, fingers adjusting as he lifts his arms. Your eyes widen once more as you hysterically pull against your restraints, legs moving as you attempt to move your body to the side to no avail.

You release a blood curdling scream as your eyes shut tight, the impact causing a loud smack to echo in the room as the end of the baton makes contact with the skin on your thigh. The pain is broad, big. So intense that your whole leg numbs out as your body attempts to protect you. Blood immediately makes its way through your skin as an ugly bruise begins formation. You sob in agony as your head falls back on the bed. You shake your head as you bite the gag.

A cold chill is brought to your body as heat overcomes you, sweat dripping down your forehead as Mikey walks closer to you, staring down at you with the same blank expression. Sanzu watches the display with gleaming eyes, a wide smile on his face as he licks his bottom lip, biting it after as he’s mesmerized by the show in front of him. It was a gorgeous sight, you sprawled out on the bed naked in front of them under Mikey’s control. Your face is so wet with tears and an expression of fear and distress. So vulnerable and fragile. Your skin breaking with ease as the blood dripping down made him want to lick it up. He couldn’t wait to get a hold of you. After all, he’s waited for so long under Mikey’s command. His failed attempt at protecting you. Someone so resilient and yet so weak.

Kazutora is leaned back in his seat with a leg crossed over, his hair pulled back in a messy ponytail as he eyes you with no emotion. He ignored the erection forming in his pants as you’re forced into submission, bound by the cuffs as your beautiful voice blesses the room with your cries. A red hue forms on his face as he watches Ran hit you again in a different spot on the same thigh. His cock twitched when he heard your loud scream, the gag doing you no justice. He crossed his arms as he shifted in his seat to a more comfortable position.

Takeomi sat with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth as he glared at the scene. He never really knew you so he couldn’t care less of your position. He just finds it hilarious to watch the rest of the men simp over Mikey’s infamous cute, bratty little sister. He’s surprised you hadn’t been killed on the spot for becoming a traitor. The leeway his boss is giving you is impeccable. Otherwise you’d be torn apart limb from limb, slaughtered and violated from the inside out. Long gone. This is nothing. He’ll admit that seeing your bitchy ass getting it in is a very sweet sight to see.

Kokonoi sighed as he turned away from the scene. Having remembered you from their delinquent days made this situation all the more sickening. He still couldn’t deny the view of you laid out the way you are having an effect on the cock sitting in his pants. It was uncomfortable, especially since he deems himself as sick as someone like Sanzu or the Haitani brothers for getting turned on by this in the first place.

Kakucho’s eyes followed Ran’s fingers, swiping some of the blood off of your leg before bringing it to his lips. You lay there, sobbing as Mikey caressed both sides of your face. He knew something like this would occur as soon as he began gaining information from the dirty cops about you involving yourself. Although he felt bad for you, he knew that you had it coming. You were warned and now you must deal with the consequences. He palmed himself before squeezing slightly to ease himself as he shifts in his seat, rock hard as he chews on his lip.

“Should I hit the other thigh, boss?” Ran’s smooth voice filled the room as he gently rubbed his thumb along the untouched thigh. You shook your head as you pleaded through the ball gag. You were so focused on switching your gaze between Mikey and Ran that you completely missed the third presence making his way to the foot of the bed.

Drool accidentally fell out of your mouth as you continued to cry and beg for Mikey to let you go and to not hurt you again. It was humiliating but you were in too much pain to care. You had to get out of there. You regret not listening. You regret not leaving him alone. You just want to escape. You just want to go home and hug yourself while you cry. You wanted to see your friends again, your sister Emma. You missed Shinichiro, Baji, your grandpa, Draken, Mitsuya, and everyone else. You missed them all and you wanted a big hug from them.

You wanted to feel safe, to feel loved again. You didn’t like this cold darkness that’s dragging you to a hell you never thought you’d experience. You wish you hadn’t been so stubborn. You just missed your brother, your friends who disappeared. Thumbs drape under your eyes as the tears are wiped away only for more to stream down your cheeks. You feel the ball gag unhook around your mouth as your chapped lips connect, licking them desperately as you continue to sob and pant.

“P-please let me go! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry Mikey I-I’ll listen! I’ll leave you alone just please…!” You rambled your apologies as he continued to gaze at you with the onyx orbs that felt as though they were forcing you to drown in his own darkness. Dragging you under with him into the void everyone so desperately tries to fill or escape from.

“I-I just wanted my big brother! I-I needed you to be who you were! I was wrong…” You sob, “…so fucking wrong. You’re too far gone!” Your hands turned to fists as your breath hitched as he climbed on top of you.

“You’re right. I am no longer your Mikey.”

Your hands tremble as you watch him reach into his pants to pull out his throbbing cock.

“No… no, no, no! Y-you can’t!” You plead as you realize what’s about to happen.

The younger Haitani grabs your ankle as he picks your leg up, along with the older brother who holds up your bruised leg. Mikey adjusts himself in between your legs as he spreads his own knees against the mattress.

“M-Mikey this is so fucked up! P-please! You fucking asshole!” You could only feel rage and despair as you watched him spit in his hand and rub his cock, moisturizing it nowhere near enough for it to easily slip through you.

“Oh shit.” Sanzu breathes out in excitement as the rest of the executives mentally sit on the edge of their seats. They watched the display, some with arousal and excitement while others with slight guilt and arousal. The air was thick in the room as Rin’s grip tightened on your ankle while moving his other hand to the bottom of your foot.

“You’ll learn.” Mikey whispers near your ear before he finally pushes in slowly. Your head falls back with your mouth wide open, nails digging in your own palms as the girth stretches you painfully. Your eyebrows furrow as you clench your teeth. He released a breathy moan as his mouth hangs open, head falling to your shoulder as your pussy squeezed him tightly. You both grunt when he finally bottoms out, base and testicles pressed firmly against you as he shifts his arms under you to hold the back of your neck with both hands.

He eyed the girl with a blank expression as she stood with her hand wrapped in Grandpa Sano’s. Even at his young age he could tell that she had been through quite a lot by the look in her eyes.

“It’s okay, Y/n.” He says as he pats your eight year old head. You sat with tears streaming down your face with your arms crossed as you pouted angrily at the fact that you lost against your fight with Baji who would help you practice your skills along with Mikey.

“You’ll learn.” He said with a smile as he gazed down at you.

You gasp as you feel his thick length pulling out of you, rubbing against the lining of your walls before he bucks his hips against you with a firmer thrust causing you to grunt in pain.

“You belong to me.” The teen growled.

“Kazutora is my friend! I’m gonna visit him whether you like it or not.” You glare at your brother before stomping away from the shrine.

Truth be told he didn’t like the way you made him feel. So out of control. So out of the loop. He knows that he’s your inspiration. He loves how worthy you deem him to be. He loves that you follow him around all the time like you're his little companion. His little sister. His.

If only you knew how hard it was to allow you on your own. To allow you to make your own decisions. To have abandoned you when he knew you were still vulnerable from everything you both went through. You don’t know how hard it is being the big brother of someone who’s just so fucking stubborn. He was afraid that he would lose you in the midst of his corruption, the dark impulse taking over day by day, so he left you.

“Fuck.” He breathes out as his pace accelerates, hips pulled back before thrusting against you as his grip tightens. His cock slides in and out of your pussy as the juice slickens the erection, making it easier to access as he presses deeper and deeper. The bed rocks as the thrusts become faster and firmer, the smacking echoing throughout the room as it becomes harder to hold back your grunts and moans.

You whimpered as you felt a pressure form against the ankle held by Rin. You make eye contact with him as his lips curl into a mischievous smile. You felt goosebumps form as the butterflies in your stomach fluttered, an impending sense of doom coming over you just as Mikey’s cock aimed for your erogenous zone, pounding your g-spot once you reacted with a shriek.

Mikey walks to the car sitting outside the club he had you meet him at after your conversation was finished. Five of his executives stood outside as he turned his attention to Kakucho.

“Watch her every move.”

He had a feeling you’d try something though he didn’t expect for you to involve the cops. Especially the detective that’s always on his ass.

“You. *Thrust* Belong. *Thrust* To me.” Mikey uses a hand to squeeze your chin, forcing your eyes to meet as you pant and sob.

All of the executives watch with dazed expressions as Mikey bitched you out. Some biting their own lips while others palmed their covered erections. Mikey eyed your face as it morphed while the pit in your stomach builds, indicating the nearing of your orgasm. He used one hand to balance himself against the headboard as he grabbed the leg Ran was holding to gain better access. He thrusts against you as his cock rubbed the inner lining of your vaginal walls, slick oozing out of your hole, a mixture of his semen and your juices forming.

The pain in your leg throbs as he pushes your leg up, causing you to whimper. You tried to hold in your moans, the feeling of the head of his cock hitting your cervix was overwhelming. Instead, grunts replaced the moans with each firm thrust against your ass. The hand on your leg tightens as you watch his eyes narrow down at you with his lips apart.

“This pussy is mine. Your cum is mine. Everything about you…” a thrust with a loud smack against your ass caused a moan to slip through his throat. “…is mine.”

Your head is pressed against the mattress as you feel the pit in your stomach release, the chemical reaction causing your mouth to open as a silent scream leaves your throat, eyes rolled back as he continues to beat into your pussy.

“Ah…” Mikey breathes, “…that’s fucking right, cum on this cock.” He said before using his fingers to press onto your wound made by the baton. You scream out in agony. The chains jingle as you pull against the restraints.

“You’ll learn. You’re gonna learn to listen to me.” He breathes out before switching his eyes to Rin.

“M-Mikey pl-!” You whimper, pleading for him to stop as you’re overstimulated, though his cock keeps its pace, assaulting your pussy as it slides through harder. Blood runs down your wrists, coming from the split skin caused by your nails. You accidentally glance at Ran who stares down at you hungrily. You could see the lust in his intense gaze, causing you to turn away.

“I don’t care how close you were or even the little crush you have on her. You will ask before touching her, got it?”

“Yes, boss.” Both Kazutora and Sanzu respond with stern expressions.

“N-No! What are you…?!” A loud crack fills the air amongst the sound of the rocking bed as your eyes shut tight, a monstrous scream escaped your lips as the pressure on your ankle created a numbing yet sharp pain that swam up your leg to your knee. You shakily look down to see your limp leg in Rin’s hand, ankle bent out of place as your foot hangs there. A swelling started to form as the skin tingled. It was surely broken.

“GET OFF OF ME! GET OFF OF ME RIGHT NOW!” You’re hysterical. The pain, overstimulation, and heat. The betrayal, sickness, and depression. The sorrow, despair, and downright filthy situation. All of the eyes on you. It was all just too much.

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH!” His forehead meets yours as his hands grab the sides of your face. His eyes shut as he thrusts hard, accelerating his speed before a breathy, drawn out moan escapes his mouth, just as Rin grabbed your other ankle.

Kazutora and Sanzu sit with discomfort as they angrily eye the Haitani brothers, realizing it should’ve been them holding your legs and punishing you. After all, they’ve known you the longest. They were closer to you. They were there for everything. Their erections become tighter as you thrash around and scream. Your rage fulfills them in an unexplainable way. They never knew why your rebellion always struck them in the heart. Who knew they’d be this stuck over their friend’s little bratty sister.

“I’m cumming.” Mikey whispers with his head against yours as he breathes out a moan. He grinds out his orgasm just as another crack fills the room, followed by an appalling scream from you. You cry as he pulls himself out of you. The swelling from both legs tingle as you lie there in terrible pain. Agony comes from your neck and both of your legs. As well as your vagina. You couldn’t believe what your own brother just did.

“I hate you.” You sob. You wanted to curl into yourself but the restraints made it impossible.

“Awe don’t cry so much, cookie.” A thumb caressed your forehead as Ran stared you down. “All ya gotta do is be good, now.”

“Or else…” Rin chuckled as he slightly dangled one of your broken ankles. You only sob in response, ignoring them as you try to refrain from making eye contact. You wanted to disappear.

Before he climbs off of you, Mikey leans over to plant a kiss on your lips. You don’t push him back nor respond to the peck. He pulls his pants up as he walks toward the other executives.

“Do what you will, just have her cleaned and brought to my room after.”

“I’ll always be the one to protect you, Y/n. You belong to me.”

You look into the eyes of your older brother, tears in your own as you hug him tight. You both sat on the ground in front of Shinichiro’s grave.

“You’ll learn.”

[coffin-hopping]

hopping on here to say sum about this beef again because I am so annoyed rn😭 this isn’t even rlly about the beef but about the way y’all treat rap as a genre.

so I know I’m not the first one to say sum about this topic, but it’s the way it goes over y’alls heads is just infuriating.

If I may over share, I’m a Mexican kid who grew up with rap, like I had rap playing in my house since I was a baby, I listened to rap with my friends, I had rap during the worst times in my life. and it always stuck with me. rap is such an important genre to me and so many others and it sucks so fucking bad how much its straight up ignored or demonized. being a poc in like, any fandom is such an isolating experience because you just feel like NO ONE gets it like you do. I have noticed for literally YEARS how much it’s ignored within the music industry itself and society in general. especially fandom spaces.

I was so fucking excited when the kendrick vs drake beef got to tumblr because I FlNALLY felt like my communities were combining and this could form some further solidarity between fandom and the rap community, so these spaces could gradually become more diverse and open and inclusive

and then I saw that post where hbombguy responded to that tweet that said like “y’all don’t care about the kendrick vs drake situation until your favorite White Guy Video Essayist makes a video on it” and it is SO FUCKING TRUE. y’all don’t give a shit about poc’s opinions when it comes to ANYTHING but that’s a conversation none of y’all are ready to have. and then I go into the notes. It was filled with ppl going “omg literally me!! he’s so funny!!” ignoring the blatant ignorance they’re admitting to without even acknowledging it. that, or it’s just people going “erm I don’t care about this beef at all actually”

and if you, person reading this, are either of those people: shut up! please shut up! you do not get it! things like this in the rap community are a spectacle and they’re important in a way. I’m not gonna go into your fandom and tell you that whatever drama going on there just isn’t important or whatever the fuck. so if you don’t get it or don’t care, please for the love of god shut up and let our community have our discussions in peace.

[fernsnailz]

What are ur thoughts on shadow and his view of earth? A big emphasis on his past is his curiosity of the planet and wanting to see it with maria. I feel like that aspect of him is forgotten sometimes. Dreaming of going to a place for all your life then finally going must be surreal. Maybe he only just wanted to be with maria, or that curiosity faded when he woke up again after his 50 year beauty rest, but I like to believe he still has that love for earth. He will see a cool bug and go hell yeah, he would stare as trees and forest for hours, he would stare up at the night sky and see the stars that once surrounded him are now just above him (sorry for my long ramble this is just a neat topic for me).

maybe! i think he eventually gets to a point where he can appreciate the earth in that way, but i think it's rarely mentioned because his view on the earth is very closely tied to his memories of maria. personally i think he could love the earth, but he likely keeps himself from expressing it due to the remaining survivor's guilt he has after maria's death. because it wasn't really his dream to see the earth, it was maria's. so to enjoy maria's dream without her? probably kinda hurts! probably kinda sucks! the first time shadow saw the beauty of dappled light shining through the leaves of a tree he probably threw up

shadow being a protector of earth is more of a duty he places on himself rather than something he does for genuine love of the planet. but i do think he could feel that love eventually - it would take some time, but after some healing i think he'd come to the point where he understands that maria's dream is allowed to live through him, and that's when he really starts to appreciate the earth. it just might take.. a while for him to get to that point lol

[gittetj]

You've mentioned that you hc Reigen as ace, can you elaborate?

I agree w/ that but can't sort my thoughts out well enough to make a coherent analysis ;w;

Yeah, that's the vibe he gives me. No concrete "evidence" and I don't care all that much about the sexual orientations of fictional characters, but I guess for me, the headcanon comes down to three things:

1) Reigen is super disinterested in other people being attracted to each other. I feel like there are several small examples of this, but first one that comes to mind is that case with the esper who can astral project and uses it to stalk his neighbor. When they discover this, Reigen has such a non-reaction. I've seen a lot of people bring up these panels

which, yeah, but when they find the culprit, Reigen also doesn't express much of an opinion. It's just "it's a stalker, stalking is bad and illegal, this is a job for the police." No more introspection from him, he immediately moves on, it doesn't interest him. Mob is the one doing all the reacting.

2) Reigen never resorts to flirting despite how he's known for bullshitting his way through anything else to complete a job. Like, no matter how horny Studio Bones is for the guy, they can't change this. He could deliberately capitalize on the fact that a considerable amount of his income comes from massaging middle-aged ladies who find him attractive, but he doesn't. It's accidental. It does not even seem like something Reigen thinks about.

3) Reigen's a self-conscious person, yet doesn't act like it bothers him that he's seemingly never been in a relationship before. He explicitly has a crisis over being lonely in the confession arc, but it's about friends and connections and doing something meaningful with his life. Romantic relationships don't factor into it, even though it easily could, considering it has great thematic relevance for Mob who spends the entire story being in love. Not that you can't fall in love with someone if you're ace, this goes a little bit into aro territory I guess, but either way.. it just gives me that vibe. The indifference. I mean, even in chapter 99 when Mob point-blank asks Reigen for advice about Tsubomi, Reigen first asks Serizawa, then looks it up on his phone, exactly like he would with any other topic he doesn't know jack shit about.

Also, at the end of the scene, he muses about what's important in a relationship, and his conclusions just.. don't sound like he's talking about romance? To me?

I don't know, that entire scene gives me flashbacks to being younger and not yet knowing what asexuality (or aromanticism) is and having to navigate conversations like that without giving away that you fundamentally can't relate to this thing everyone else is so preoccupied with.

Them's my takes, I don't have much else to say about it.

[a-d-nox]

web of wyrd: what indicates cheating (and other negative traits that lead to cheating/deception)?

i feel like it is very important to look at the individual person's relationship and relationship blocker on top of all this. usually the top corners in the compatibility web are beneficial to how a person acts in the relationship but certain numbers can be troubling. in this case, a personal one to my family, this man was VERY good at lying and gaslighting, and he really crushed my family member (unfortunately, she is still very much attached to him - curse that 13 core; they just can't quit one another)... so 18 for example could go either way: very good at self-reflection/empathizing or very good at lying... the main focus though in the bottom corners - what the weakness in for each person (feminine for feminine and masculine for masculine) in the connection. the relationship blockage and relationship numbers in the compatibility web shouldn't be ignored though as they show mutuality (she did start lying to him about where she was and what she was doing).

22 - the fool

these people commonly feel like they can pull the wool over others eyes. they take risks where the relationship is concerned without thinking of the other person involved.

1 - the magician

they often feel like they can do and say whatever they want in the relationship without any consequences. they have the tendency to manipulate their partner and emotionally gaslit given the situation.

6 - the lovers

codependency is pretty common but also very important - this energy is ruled by gemini. thusly communication is key. on a low vibration or as a blockage number, there is a lack of communication.

7 - the chariot

these people are quick to switch up. they will stay with you but only until they find someone who shares their same mentality and vision for the future. they could also lack self-confidence, and thusly seek validation from more than just who they are in a relationship with.

12 - the hanged man

these are the people who are quick to play victim. they might project their faults on to you - if they cheated, then they might question your loyalty in return.

15 - the devil

this is a toxic relationship to begin with and when on a personal lines this person is more likely to seek out lust than love. codependency and controlling nature is also present.

18 - the moon

if these people have not done self-reflection, they will 100% cheat and deceive others in a relationship due to immaturity and avoidance of fault finding.

19 - the sun

these are the people that think that the grass is greener on the other side and who tend to be immature in a relationship (often, they are in a connection for a good time but not for a long time). ghosting is common and so is desiring an open relationship.

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[abhainnwhump]

There's this little thing I like to call Passive Villain Syndrome (probably an actual term for it somewhere but I don't know it), which is where the villain of a story is introduced, the reader is told how evil they are and then . . . they don't do anything until the story needs a climax or the series needs a finale.

My biggest issue with this is that it reduces what could be an interesting and memorable character to a mere obstacle, a plot device. They're evil and they're said to do evil things. It's hard to explain, but it's just boring. It's a similar reason where I don't like stories about a kind character becoming evil just by grabbing a knife and going on a killing spree with a crazed smile. You can put any character in that scenario and they don't stand out. Am I saying you need a deep complex motive for your villains? No, some of my favorite villains are evil because it's fun. But the key thing is that they have creative ways of causing pain and chaos and they feel like a real threat. This got a bit off topic, but my point is these kinds of villains aren't memorable. Your villain should have as much thought put into them as the hero so there is tension and a sense of danger.

It also causes "show don't tell" violations where the reader is told how twisted and dangerous a villain is, but they're never shown. It's worse when the villain is defeated in about 3 pages after all that build up. (cough cough Harry Potter cough cough)

Yes, I know wanting mystery around the villain is a thing. But even something as simple as the villain holding one of the hero's friends captive as they torture them is something. Or keep the identity of the villain a secret, but throughout the story, murders or crimes happen that apply more pressure on the hero to not only find who's doing this, but to also stop them. Present day events, not flashbacks, that's important. I also suggest having smaller encounters throughout the story to build a relationship between the two, put some personal stakes and grudges between them.

TLDR: Please have main villains that don't sit off on the sidelines of the story until the climax needs to happen.