#i love her shes so innocent shes such a little child...

[marcyvampire]

SILLY LITTLE BAT

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Platonic! Batfamily x Anti-Hero! Fem!reader.

sinopsis ⸺ In the shadowed halls of Wayne Manor, a girl lost among the darkness seeks the connection she never had. Her mother, a kleptomaniac with a broken heart, vanished, leaving only echoes of empty promises. Surrounded by a family that never sees her, her pain turns into a deafening silence. The void left by her past traps her in a limbo of solitude and sorrow.

One dark night, seeking her own way, she became what she once despised. Now, like the albino bat rejected by its own flock, she flies alone in the twilight. Her pale skin glows in the dark, but her heart still yearns for the warmth of a home she never came to know.

warnings ⸺ Dark Themes, Dead, murdering,Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Discrimination, Violence, Blood, LGBT Content, Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Implicit Sexual Content, Mental Illness, Addiction, Suicide, Torture, Corruption, Isolation, Trauma, Phobias, Paranoia, Manipulation

A/N — English is not my first language—Spanish is—so there might be some grammar or spelling mistakes here and there. This is the first part of a story I’m writing for a friend (Isabel, I love you, you brat), and also an experiment to see what it’s like to write on Tumblr. Please support me! :"((

Nobody is coming to save you

Get up.

Your mother was not a good woman, and that was an undeniable fact, heavy as the shadow that covers Gotham City at nightfall. She was a creature of the underworld, one among the specters that wandered under the yoke of crime, walking among dangerous names like Selina Kyle or Harleen Quinzel, yet always remaining in the background, never reaching their fame or infamy.

She was nothing more than a kleptomaniac and a mythomaniac, doomed to live by cunning and deceit. She took advantage of the men who crossed her path, from the lowest criminals, like The Penguin, to the most powerful man in the city: Bruce Wayne.

You never called him Dad. To you, he was always Bruce, and on the rare occasions you addressed him, you did so with distant formality, "Mr. Wayne." Richard, your adoptive brother, found in him a father figure, while to you, he was just another shadow in the mansion, that huge, cold house you arrived at after your mother’s death.

You remember how, time and again, you tried to warn your mother to stop stealing, to stop lying, that those dark paths would inevitably lead her to Arkham Asylum, surrounded by all the lunatics you feared so much, or even worse: to death. But she always responded with a playful smile, stroking your head with her delicate hands, adorned with stolen jewelry and crude tattoos. "Those are just fantasies of an eight-year-old girl," she would say sweetly, while her ring-laden fingers assured you that you needn’t worry, "I will always come back for you," she promised, "because you are the only thing more valuable than any diamond I’ve ever held."

But the cruel truth was that was the last time you saw her. That night she left, and she never returned. It was then that the last vestiges of innocence faded with her absence. From that moment on, you ceased to be a child.

And that was one of the few things you understood with absolute clarity. There were no more empty promises, no more caresses tinged with lies. All that remained was the silence of a life fading away, like a stolen jewel that never returns to its rightful owner.

The only thing you knew after calling the police when your mother didn’t show up after two days was that they found her corpse in a back alley far from Gotham, showing signs of having been beaten and bruised by some underground gang.

Commissioner Gordon searched the entire house for illicit substances and signs of debts to mobsters, but he only ended up finding documents, stolen jewelry, and letters from your mother that were never sent, and most importantly, DNA evidence implicating that the city’s millionaire was your biological father.

From then on, your life was stained with eternal gray, that muted shade that erased all traces of light or shadow. There was no more white or black, only a silent fog that, day by day, enveloped you and dragged you into a madness that seemed inevitable. Gotham itself seemed more alive than the place you called home, although "home" was never the right word.

You didn’t love any of the Wayne family members. Bruce, your biological father, never listened to you. To him, you were always just another shadow, a ghost in the vast mansion that he prioritized over his other children, his "true" heirs. There was always something more important, something more urgent, and your presence faded among the cold walls and the echo of his hurried footsteps. With each passing day, you became more invisible to him, as if your very existence were a mistake he preferred to ignore.

Richard, the perfect brother, was kind on some occasions. He spoke to you courteously, but when you needed him, when you asked him to attend one of your performances, there was always an excuse, something that kept him away, as if your passion and accomplishments were insignificant details in his heroic life.

Jason, on the other hand, despised you from the start. He saw you as an intruder, a child of gold—but not of that pure and valuable gold, but of a dirty and false one, which he always mocked with disdain. And although you never cared for him, when he died, silent tears rolled down your face. It wasn’t out of love, but out of respect for what he represented, for the brutal reality of his fall.

Tim, in contrast, was the most indifferent. To him, you were a nobody, so irrelevant that you weren’t even worth a glance. Spending time with his friends or being the Robin of the moment mattered more than you did. You lived on his periphery, in a limbo where neither your name nor your face seemed to exist.

Cassandra, Stephanie, Barbara… at least they treated you with politeness, but you knew they didn’t really remember who you were. They saw you, smiled at you out of obligation, but deep down you knew they had no idea of your name, your story, your struggle to be more than a shadow in that world.

The worst of all was Damian, your younger half-brother. When he arrived at the mansion, Alfred introduced him to you with that serene formality he always had, and you, driven by an almost desperate impulse, tried to reach out to him. You wanted to offer him the support and affection of an older sister, that warmth you would have longed for in his situation. But all you received in return was a cold response: a katana piercing your abdomen. I wish I could say it was just a metaphor, but no, that wound was as real as the blade that cut your skin.

You would have liked to think that the pain was symbolic, that Damian had only rejected your affection with harsh words or his usual arrogance. But no, it was much more than that. The only thing you received in exchange for your attempt at fraternal love was a stab, a scar you still carry not only on your body but also in your soul. Because in that brutal gesture, you understood that the blood that united you also separated you, sharper than any weapon. And that was how you tried to connect.

You strived to stand out, to learn, to shine in your own ambitions, wishing that your success would be enough to earn you a place, a bit of affection. But no matter how hard you tried, it was never enough. Your talent crashed against indifference, your achievements faded into the air, as if they had no weight in the lives of others.

The only light, the only beacon in that storm of gray, was Alfred. The only one who smiled at you with genuine tenderness, the only one you truly loved. To you, he was the real father, the one who was always there, expecting nothing in return, offering you a silent but firm love. You did call him father, and his presence was the only thing that kept your sanity, the only thing preventing the gray from consuming you completely.

But even that love, so genuine and deep, was not enough to fill the void that your own family left you. And in that void, you continue to float, trapped between the girl you were and the woman you are trying to be, searching for a place you can truly call home.

Y/n's small room, though modest, had always been her refuge. The walls were adorned with unfinished sketches, trophies from various activities, and some paintings she had completed with dedication, showcasing her passion for both manual and performing arts.

The dawn light filtered softly through the curtains, bathing the space in golden tones, giving it a warmth that contrasted with the coldness of the rest of Wayne Manor.

On the desk, a small cake rested on a plate, simple yet made with love. Beside it, Alfred, with his usual understated elegance, watched Y/n with a mixture of nostalgia and concern. He, the only one who seemed to remember her birthday, offered her a delicate professional drawing set, wrapped in smooth, elegant paper.

"Happy birthday, Miss," Alfred said with a gentle smile, although his eyes reflected a sadness that was hard to conceal. "I know how much you love art, so I thought this would be helpful for your new projects."

Y/n took the gift in her hands with a genuine smile. It had been so hard for her to find moments of joy lately, but Alfred's gesture filled her with a warmth in her chest that she hadn't experienced in a long time. She placed the gift into one of the many brown boxes she had prepared for her upcoming move.

"Thank you, Alfred. It's perfect," she said, examining the set carefully, as if each detail were a reminder of the affection he held for her. "It will help me a lot... although, well," she sighed, as if searching for the right words. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that." Alfred raised an eyebrow, attentive, as she continued, glancing at the small space that had been her home within the vast mansion.

"Today... today is not just my birthday. It's the day I leave here." Her voice was firm, yet there was a sense of liberation in it, as if this were a long-awaited step. "I am finally no longer a Wayne. I go back to being a L/n."

Silence filled the room for a moment, heavy and dense. Alfred clasped his hands, striving to maintain his composure.

"Miss, I can't help but feel a certain unease hearing this. Are you sure this is what you want? This house, though empty in many ways, has always been your home..."

"Home?" Y/n looked at him with a mix of sadness and determination. "This house has never been my home, Alfred. Not like it was for Dick, nor even for Bruce. I have always been a stranger here, the daughter of a woman who never fit into this world, the bastard child. My mother taught me to find my own path, to not cling to what doesn’t belong to me... and being here, being called Wayne, has never belonged to me." Alfred sighed softly, turning his gaze toward the window. He knew there was truth in her words, but that didn’t lessen the pain of her leaving. "I know it’s hard to understand," Y/n continued, "but for the first time in a long time, I feel happy, Alfred. I’ve graduated, college is just around the corner, and I want to start anew. I want to find what truly makes me, me... not what others expect of me."

The old butler remained silent for a few moments, nodding slowly. He knew he couldn't retain her, that it was not his place to interfere in the young woman's dreams. But still, he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart at the thought of the house being even emptier without her. "I just wish you find what you’re looking for, Miss. And if you ever need a place to return to... this door will always be open for you."

Y/n stepped closer to him, gently hugging him, something she had rarely done. "Thank you, Alfred," she whispered against his shoulder. "You will always be my family, but I need this. I need to discover who I am outside of this last name."

The old butler felt the lump in his throat as he tightened the embrace a little longer before letting her go. He knew that deep down, she was doing the right thing. But that didn’t make it hurt any less to see her leave.

"Alfred, can you call the movers? I’ll be leaving tonight," Y/n said as she closed the last box with trembling hands, her gaze lost in the empty corners of the room she once considered her refuge. The butler, ever serene, nodded with his unwavering calmness.

"Don't worry, Miss, I assure you they will be here on time." His voice was soft, almost an echo of the ancient walls of the mansion, as if he himself were part of that structure that had seen so many comings and goings, so many lives broken and healed in silence.

Alfred turned halfway to leave, but Y/n's voice stopped him, broken yet sweet, like a melody at sunset. "Alfred..."

The man turned slowly, his eyes filled with paternal warmth, though always contained behind a formal gesture. "Yes, Miss?" he replied, with that tranquility that had always brought Y/n peace in her worst moments.

She took a breath, feeling how the words she had kept for so long fought to come out, to break the shell she had built since childhood. "I’ve never told you, but... thank you. Thank you for being the father I never had, for being there when no one else was."

For a moment, the silence in the room was heavier than all the accumulated boxes, deeper than any word. Alfred, who had been a witness to so many confessions and secrets in that house, stood still, his eyes shining with an emotion he rarely showed. "Miss," he murmured, his voice slightly choked, "it was an honor and a privilege to take care of you. If I ever gave you anything close to what you deserved, then my life has had true purpose."

Y/n smiled sadly, nodding slowly. "You did, Alfred. You did. And for that, I will always carry you with me, even if I leave here."

The butler slightly bowed his head in respect, swallowing any emotion that might betray his composure. "Wherever you go, you will always have a home here, Miss."

"I know," she said, though in her heart, she knew she wouldn’t return.

And as Alfred left the room to make the call, Y/n let out a long sigh, as if with it, she were leaving behind a part of herself, a part she could no longer carry with her.

Life in Gotham is like constantly walking on the edge of a razor blade. The city never sleeps, always alert, always dangerous, and for someone with the Wayne surname, the risks multiply. It has been a year since you left the mansion, trying to erase any ties that bound you to that life, desperately wishing the name would fade into the echo of the dirty streets and crumbling buildings. But it's not that easy. The name Wayne remains an indelible mark that the media and the people of Gotham refuse to let fade. The forgotten child, the silent accident of billionaire Bruce Wayne. And although you try to live as if you don’t exist under that shadow, the weight of the legacy haunts you.

You left with little, barely enough money to rent a small apartment in one of the worst corners of the city. You share the space with a friend, a plant-loving girl who has filled every nook of the place with leaves and pots, as if trying to make green defy the constant darkness of Gotham. You get along well with her; her love for nature is almost an antithesis to the chaos of the city, and she has taught you that even in the hardest concrete, something can bloom. She always accompanied you on the coldest, loneliest nights, giving you a warmth that, although ethereal, was very welcome. But still, life is not easy. You barely survive, spending the little you have on cheap food and paying the rent. There are days when the cold seeps through the poorly sealed windows, and you wonder if it was really better to be in the mansion instead of this little trench. However, you prefer this rough freedom to the soulless luxury of Wayne Manor.

Freedom, however, comes at a price. It wasn't enough to distance yourself, to change your life, or even to always carry a knife for defense. Gotham does not forget. People recognize you in the shadows, whisper your name, and approach you, sometimes with curiosity and other times with disdain. You have been beaten more than once. Some just for being a Wayne, others because they think they can extort you, even though they have no idea you can barely get by. The scars on your body bear witness to those beatings, but you refuse to give up. You get up every morning, despite the pain, and continue on your way. You don’t need Batman. You don’t need Bruce. You learned long ago that he wouldn't come to save you.

That night, like so many others, you were heading to the subway for your night shift, with the hood of your coat covering your face, trying to go unnoticed. The sound of the tracks echoed in your ears, a constant reminder of the city's hustle. You had gotten used to walking fast, avoiding eye contact, as if each step was a small battle won against the city. But this time, something was different.

"So it was true, the little Wayne girl is roaming the city... how lovely." The raspy, mocking voice rang out beside you, cutting through the heavy air of the train station. The man speaking wore a suit that, at first glance, seemed elegant, but there was something about his extreme thinness, his skin clinging to his bones and his disheveled hair, that made him look more like a specter of Gotham than a distinguished figure. A ghost from the shadows that had stalked you since you set foot on the streets.

If it weren't for his gaunt appearance and unsettling aura, you might have mistaken him for one of your father's employees. "I'm not a Wayne anymore," you said disdainfully, your voice sharp like the edge of a dagger refusing to be touched. "If you want money, I don’t have any. And Mr. Wayne wouldn’t give a cent for me either."

Your gaze drifted to the station clock. 8 minutes until the train that would take you away from this corner of Gotham, far from the shadows and faces that always seemed to recognize you.

The man let out a dry, raspy laugh that sent chills down your spine. "I don’t want your money, pretty girl," he replied, moving closer, invading your space with the same familiarity that Gotham’s filth slipped into every corner. "You’re worth more than that." You felt his calloused, scarred hand rest on your hip, with a pressure that was neither violent nor friendly. The contact filled you with disgust.

7 minutes.

You clenched your fist, your jaw tight as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I don’t want sex either, idiot," you spat, your words loaded with contained fury. Your hand subtly slid toward your bag, where your knife lay, waiting to be used.

6 minutes.

The man didn’t flinch. In fact, he let out a low, mocking laugh. "And I don’t want that either, little girl," he murmured, his cold, deep blue eyes scrutinizing you as if they could read every dark corner of your soul. "I want something more from you."

5 minutes.

"What do you want then?" you asked, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady, even as the ice of fear began to creep down your spine. Your eyes scrutinized him, searching his gaze for any hint of his true intentions, but all you saw was darkness.

4 minutes.

He let out a long, chilling laugh, tightening his grip on your hip. "Do you know what I want, Y/n?"

3 minutes.

His voice dropped, as if his words were a cursed secret the wind refused to carry away. "I want you."

2 minutes.

The world seemed to stop. You knew there was no time to run. There was no time to pull out the knife or to scream. It was as if the clock itself had conspired against you, reducing those last minutes to mere seconds.

1 minute.

The blow was sharp, a flash of excruciating pain at the back of your head. The cold metal of the station, the hum of the city, everything faded abruptly. The last thought that crossed your mind, before the world vanished into darkness, was that this time, you didn’t expect Batman to save you. It wasn’t a mere thief or a street threat that was taking you.

Gotham, with all its cruelty, always had new ways to remind you that there is no escape.

That night, when the Gotham subway stopped at the station, there was no one to pick up.

The mansion felt emptier than ever, like a deserted and cold labyrinth, where each hallway seemed to stretch into an infinite tunnel, devouring the light.

The silence was overwhelming, an oppression that enveloped every corner, as if even the ancient walls had run out of words. It was so heavy that the few who remained in the mansion couldn’t help but move uncomfortably, trying to fill that void with something, anything.

Bruce Wayne walked through those same hallways with a strange feeling, as if something was missing, though he didn’t know what. An unease, a persistent discomfort that he couldn’t shake off.

He had been like this for months, with that absence haunting his mind, a gap he couldn't identify. And then, suddenly, like a gust of icy wind, the truth struck him.

You.

His daughter.

His little daughter.

How long had it been since he last saw you? When was the last time he heard your laughter, the one that always seemed too sarcastic, too filled with resentment? He stopped abruptly, frowning. Why couldn’t he remember you? He couldn’t bring to mind a clear image of your face, not even how you used to look at him... why? How could he have forgotten you like that?

Damn.

It was as if time had stopped. It had been a year, maybe more, since he had really thought about you. He felt a pang of guilt pierce his chest, a heavy, silent guilt that dragged him into the abyss of his own negligence. Not knowing what else to do, he began to check the rooms, one after another.

Each door he opened was another blow to his conscience. Where was your room? The more he searched, the more confused he felt. The mansion was enormous, but how could he have forgotten where you slept? How was it possible that he didn’t know where you lived in the house where both of you grew up? Had you been here all this time?

Each door he opened was identical to the last, as if all the rooms had fused into one.

None showed a trace of you.

None seemed to have a hint of your presence. Didn’t you decorate your room? He thought frantically, didn’t you even mark it as yours? Panic began to take hold of him. Anxiety wrapped around him like a fist tightening on his chest. Were you still living in the mansion? Or had you left without saying a word, like a shadow fading at dawn? But... no, you hadn’t mentioned anything. You hadn’t said you were leaving. Or had you? And if you had, why didn’t he remember? How could he have ignored you for so long that now he didn’t even know if you were still under the same roof?

“Ah!” he exclaimed in a whisper, unable to contain the dread he felt.

Frustration consumed him from within. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, breathing heavily, and the echo of his voice faded into the empty walls. He tried to remember something, anything about you, about the last time they spoke, about how you were... but everything was blurry, as if his mind was betraying him, hiding you behind an impenetrable fog.

How could he have forgotten so much?

He brought his hands to his head, trying to calm himself, but only felt more confusion, more desperation. The mansion, which had once been his home, now felt like a strange and foreign place.

Had you been the one who made it feel like home? The question echoed in his mind, but he had no answer. Just more questions. More uncertainties. Finally, he let his arms fall, exhausted. He had checked almost all the rooms and had found not a trace of you. Not a clue. Not a sign that you had been there. And at that moment, something dark and painful began to settle in his heart.

Had you ever really been there?

Then something caught his attention as he passed by the cleaning room. In a dusty corner, next to a forgotten bag, something was protruding. Something small, old, and faded. He bent down and pulled it from the dirty clothes. It was a stuffed animal, or what was left of one. The faded black of its suit left no doubt. It was a figure of Batman, but worn down by time, battered to the point of looking forgotten.

Bruce's eyes were fixed on the small piece of fabric hanging from the doll's neck. A tag.

Your name.

Your name, handwritten, in ink that was already fading.

Bruce felt a lump in his throat, a mix of guilt and rage. How could he have forgotten something so important?

He clutched the doll tightly, as if doing so would return a piece of you to him, but instead of comfort, he only felt more emptiness. Where were you? He ran to Alfred, who looked at him with a mix of concern and pity.

"Alfred..." Bruce said, his voice breaking. "Where is she? Where is my daughter?"

The butler, with his always serene face, seemed to age suddenly. A long silence settled between them, as if time was fading away. "Mr. Bruce, I didn’t mean to..." Alfred lowered his gaze. "I didn’t want to burden you with that truth, but... it’s time you know."

Bruce felt a chill run down his spine. Truth? What truth?

"She left almost a year ago. She didn’t say where. She just... she took all her belongings, though they weren’t many, and left. She said she didn’t want to be a burden. That you and the other family members had too many things to worry about."

Bruce took a step back, as if the words had physically struck him. Did she have enough age to leave? A burden? Never, not for a second, did he think that of you, of his little daughter who, even though she wasn’t wanted, he embraced under his wing just like Damian.

You were never a burden.

...or were you?

No, he refused to acknowledge it; he just... he hadn’t spent time with you because Gotham needed him!

But when you needed him, where was Batman?

Where was Bruce Wayne when his only biological daughter needed him?

"Alfred, do you know anything about Y/n?" the hero asked, worry clear on his face.

Alfred didn’t look at him; he only stared into nothingness. "...I haven’t heard anything about her for two months...

And honestly... I'm starting to think...

that she might be lost to us forever..."

A/N — This is definitely apart from being my first official Tumblr post, it is also my first DC post and especially the first from the Lord of the Night xD

Don't hesitate to ask me anything if you want.

Isabel, I dedicate this to you, my love. Eat more to be well, you fucking anorexic, don't suck.

take a bath!

inspiration: @acid-ixx with his Again & Again series, @gotham-daydreams' work, @i-cant-sing's work and @klemen-tine's work, be sure to check them out!

[wandaslittlebird]

As The Summer Ends

Wanda x Natasha x Reader

As the summer comes to a close, you and your girlfriends celebrate with one more day in the sun.

CW: Pure fluff, R calls WandaNat Mama/Daddy but only like once.

Word Count: 1.3k(ish)

A/N: Happy last day of summer everyone! I hope everyone had a wonderful season, and you’re all excited to see what wonders the fall brings.

It was your first year ever attending Pepper Potts’ yearly “end of the summer” pool party: the celebration she had every year the day before it was time to cover the pool for the winter. You’d been invited as Wanda and Natasha’s plus one, as you still didn’t really know Pepper, or anyone else in attendance.

Much to your dismay, none of the other women seemed too eager to actually be in the pool. In fact, aside from you, Natasha was the only other person in the water. And she wasn’t even swimming. She was leaned up against the side of the pool talking to Maria.

Sure it was a little cold, as it was late September and there was a growing chill in the air, but you never got to go swimming. You did so love the water.

Wanda’s heart swelled with affection as she watched you from a beach chair, flopping around the water like a fish. Your child-like nature knew no bounds. You didn’t seem to have a care in a world about what the adults around you were doing, despite being one yourself. You swam laps around the pool, did handstands in the water, dove off the side and swam to the bottom of the deep end. You seemed to be keeping yourself entertained well.

However, as time wore on, Wanda could see you getting restless. You tried to join Natasha and Maria’s conversation, but they didn’t seem interested. Wanda frowned as she watched you try to talk, only to be ignored and talked over by her wife and her friend. Your joyful disposition cracked into one of isolation as you slowly began to feel like an outsider in this group of people.

She huffed, tempted to go over and have a word with Natasha about ignoring you. But, as she remembered how much you had had playing in the water, she got a better idea. She sat down on the lip of the pool, putting her feet into the cool water.

“Honey!” she shouted, making you turn your head as you popped up out of the water. She curled her fingers, beckoning you towards her. Obediently, you stopped everything you were doing to join her on the edge of the pool, laying your head on your hands next to her to avoid getting her wet.

“Yes?” you asked, innocently looking up at her from the water.

She lifted your head and bent over to whisper in your ear. “If you can knock Tasha over in the water, I’ll get you ice cream on the way home.”

You nervously turned around to find Natasha where she’d been this whole time, talking to Maria by the side of the pool. Her top half was completely out of the water. She hadn’t even gotten her hair wet. “But she’s talking to Maria. It would be impolite to-” you attempted to explain.

She cut you off with a soft smile. “Don’t worry, little love. I’m sure their conversation is drier than a sack of flour anyway. Go make your daddy actually have some fun.” She winked, lightly pinching your cheek.

A smile slowly grew across your face as you turned away from Wanda. You planned your approach carefully, deciding to launch yourself off the side wall and throw yourself into the back of her knees as hard as you possibly could.

Natasha stumbled as you knocked against her, immediately annoyed. “What the-” She glanced down at you in the water, then up at Wanda, smirking smugly by the side of the pool. She rolled her eyes and picked you up out of the water.

You squealed as you were caught, disappointed but not surprised that your first attempt had failed.

“Hold on, Maria,” Natasha joked. “I gotta teach this little punk a lesson.” You tried to squirm out of her grasp, but you were quickly thrown ass over head into the deep end of the pool.

You squealed again with excited delight. Wanda smiled, watching as you quickly turned tailed to go for Natasha’s feet again. Once again, you were dragged out of the water and tossed back into the deep end. Natasha had no difficulty dexterously dodging your attempts to knock her down, but you didn’t even really care to be losing the bet. It was reward enough to finally have somebody to play with, even if you were devastatingly out matched.

You were getting out of breath after a few rounds of fighting Natasha just to be effortlessly tossed back into the water again. You grabbed at the side of the pool, breathing heavy. Natasha was laughing now too, enjoying your frazzled and breathless face. She was glad that Wanda could at least pick a game that took way more energy out of you than her.

You turned around, ready to make another pass at Natasha. You didn’t actually think you'd ever be able to knock her down, but you liked it when she threw you into the water. You grabbed at her legs again. However, this time, before she could grab you and pull you out of the water, you saw two scarlet tendrils wrap around her ankles. She shouted before she was quickly pulled under the water.

You stood up, a little dazed, to find Natasha coming out of the water as well, completely and utterly soaked. Her nicely curled hair was now flat and wet against her head.

“You got her!” Wanda laughed.

“Oh it’s on,” Natasha challenged, quickly making her way to the end of the pool, where Wanda sat. Before she could reach her, though, she was wrapped with more scarlet tendrils that hoisted her out of the water, carried her to the deep end of the pool, and dropped her in.

You shrieked with joyous surprise, making your way back to Wanda as well. She let you approach, knowing that, unlike Natasha, you would never dream of pulling her into the water. “Mama, can you throw me next?”

Wanda’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You want me to throw you in the water like Tasha?”

You nodded eagerly.

She wrapped you up in her magic, pulling you from the water and carrying you across the pool. You giggled as the magic disappeared and you were dropped into the water.

Natasha climbed out of the water, grabbing a towel and drying herself off before sitting down next to Wanda. She laughed as you eagerly swam all the way back to them, looking up at Wanda expectantly.

“Again?” Wanda chuckled.

You nodded, laughing uncontrollably as she picked you again and threw you into the water. She went a bit higher this time, not dropping you until you were a good ten feet above the water.

She threw you a few more times, changing her tactics a little every time. Sometimes she dropped you in upside down. Other times she would hold you still above the water while you waited in anxious anticipation to be dropped. You were roaring with excitement and laughter the whole time.

It wasn’t long before you were completely and utterly spent, physically exhausted from all the swimming. Natasha stood next to the steps, a fluffy towel in her outspread arms. You breathlessly climbed up into her arms, allowing yourself to be dried off.

Wanda made a space for you to sit in between her legs. You happily sat down, putting your feet back into the water as she pulled you so your back was flush to her front. You cuddled into her tiredly.

Somebody tapped your shoulder from behind. You turned your head to find Pepper, holding a waffle cone with chocolate ice cream. “I heard ice cream was on the line. And it looks like you won the bet.”

You smiled and took the ice cream, eagerly licking at it before it could melt in the sun. “Thank you, Mrs. Potts.”

“Of course, kiddo,” she said, playfully ruffling your hair.

Wanda laughed as you proceeded to get the ice cream all over your face. She periodically wiped it away with a towel.

You would miss days like this as the air grew colder. There would be no more pool days, no more opportunities to comfortably spend the days outside in the sun. But fall brought new excitement of its own.

You could only hope you’d be tucked between these same arms by the fireplace come winter.

[aemondloverr]

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐) 

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 • 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: As the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra, you are sent to the North to negotiate terms with Lord Stark.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Disapproving Jace

𝐰𝐜: 𝟐.𝟒𝐤

𝐀/𝐍: Ngl school was kicking my ass but I still wanna deliver 😪 (btw, cregan appears in the next part, not the first. AND for some reason links are currently not working :( Sorry abt that!! Must be some kind of bug)

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

“Mother? You sent for me?”

Rhaenyra is sitting at a table in her chambers, sipping wine and surrounded by various papers and documents. She looks up as you enter and a soft smile tugs at her lips, her eyes seeming to light up for just a moment

“Yes, my daughter. Come, sit with me.”

She pats the seat beside her, clearing a space among the piles of documents. There's an expectant look in her eye, her gaze resting on you

“I have something to discuss with you.”

Oh no

You know whenever those words come from the mouth of a mother, it’s never good. You’re either in trouble, or it’s something serious.

You approach the chair nervously and sit.

She sighs and sets down her glass of wine, shifting her attention fully to you. Her eyes seem to search your face for a moment before she speaks again.

“You're growing up so fast, you know that? It feels like just yesterday you were a little girl running through the gardens, laughing and playing with your brothers.”

You smile at the mention of fond memories.

Oh Gods. A speech is always a bad indicator. Especially one of childhood.

A pang of bittersweet nostalgia seems to pass over Rhaenyra’s features as she continues, her voice taking on a hint of regret

“Sometimes, I wish I could freeze time and keep you just as you are right now, still young and innocent, before the world has a chance to harden your heart. But… that’s not the way things work, is it?”

“I know mother…” Your smile quickly fades and you worry for what she’ll say next.

Rhaenyra holds your gaze for a moment before she speaks again, her voice soft and earnest

“You're much more perceptive than your brothers, you know that? You always were, even as a child. You always seemed to know what I was thinking before I even said it-”

“Is there something you want me to do?” It would be nice if she stopped beating around the bush and just asked.

She takes a deep breath as if steeling herself for what comes next, her gaze unwavering and intent on you

“…As you know, my reign is not without its challenges. There are those who question my claim to the throne, who think that my rule is not rightful. I need you to understand, my love, that in the future you may be forced to make difficult decisions, decisions that will impact not just your own life, but the future of the entire realm.”

You stare, expectantly

“This is why I am asking you to go to Winterfell…”

What…??

“But mother…”

She knows that this is the part where you'll likely protest

“I know you don't want to go, my love. I know that leaving home, leaving me, is difficult for you. Believe me, I would not ask this of you if there was any other option.”

“But Cregan…you know what he did…”

You’d expected something important yes, but this?…This was simply too much to ask of you .

Her hand comes to rest on top of yours in a comforting gesture.

“I know, my love. I know it hurt you greatly, believe me, it pained me to see you so distraught.”

“So why can’t you send Jace. Why would you send me to see him??”

“Jace is a good, honourable boy. I know he would do his duty and serve me well as a diplomatic envoy to Winterfell. But he is not you. I'm sending you for a reason, my love.”

“And why’s that??” You begin to get frustrated

Rhaenyra looks straight into your eyes, her gaze unwavering as she speaks

“Because Cregan Stark is a proud and stubborn man, one who values strength and resilience. He is unlikely to listen to just anyone. But he knows you. He once cared for you, deeply. I'm sending you there as someone who has the potential to sway him to our cause.”

“This is not fair. How could you even consider asking me this when you know—“

She sees you tearing up and reaches out to brush a strand of hair out of your face, her touch, gentle and tender

“You know that duty must take precedence over desire…”

“For the realm...” You mutter, a tear falling

Rhaenyra's heart aches to see the tears in your eyes, but she doesn't falter in her resolve. She lifts her free hand to your face, gently wiping away a tear that threatens to spill down your cheek.

“Yes, my love. For the realm…”

She gently pulls you closer, letting you rest your head against her shoulder. She runs her fingers through your hair, her touch soft and soothing

“…For our family. For all the people we are sworn to protect.”

*****

Later that evening at supper

The entire family is gathered around the large table in the dining hall, eating their supper and engaging in light conversation. Rhaenyra is seated at the head of the table, daemon at the other with Jace seated to her left and Luke to her right.

Joffrey is seated across from Jace, chattering away happily about some toy he received. Rhaenyra glances up to where you are sitting, a small but weary smile on her face

Jace notices your quieter-than-usual demeanor and nudges you gently with his elbow

“Hey, are you alright? You're awfully quiet tonight.”

“Yea I’m alright, I’ll tell you later” you whisper.

Jace looks at you for a moment, his expression one of concern, but nods understandingly. He returns to his food, but you can feel his gaze occasionally flicking over to you throughout the meal.

*****

Rhaenyra stands and taps her glass.

At her signal, the conversation around the table dies down, and everyone turns to face her. Rhaenyra stands, her expression serious as she looks around at her family

She clears her throat and speaks, her voice steady and commanding

"Before everyone retires for the evening, I have an announcement to make."

Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, her gaze flickering briefly to you before continuing.

"As you all know, the stability of the realm depends on maintaining strong alliances and relationships with our noble houses. It is therefore necessary for me to send an envoy to Winterfell to reinforce our ties there."

A pause.

"I have decided to send your sister to Winterfell as our representative. She will leave in two days' time."

There is a moment of stunned silence as the rest of the family processes this information. Jace looks over at you, his forehead creasing with confusion. Luke's mouth has dropped open in surprise. Even Joffrey is silent, for once.

Jace protests. Daemon just sits back and watches the drama

He speaks up immediately, his voice filled with concern

"Mother, surely you can't be serious? You're sending our sister all the way to Winterfell? Alone? It's too dangerous!"

Rhaenyra looks at Jace with sympathy but irritation at his protest.

"I understand your concern, my son, but this decision is not up for debate. Your sister is perfectly capable of handling herself and representing our house honorably."

“At least let me go with her“

"No, Jace. I cannot spare you here, I need you by my side. One dragon in the open is enough and the greens could spot you” your mother says sternly.

“Mother you can’t just-”

Joffrey cries and Luke tries to comfort him. He doesn’t like the arguing and yelling

“It is done Jacaerys. You will argue no more about this!”

You quickly excuse yourself from the table, hurrying to your chambers.

Jace looks like he wants to say something, but Rhaenyra gives him a warning glance, and he reluctantly stays silent

As you head back to your chambers, you can hear the murmurs of the rest of the family resume, their low voices discussing the announcement Rhaenyra made. As you begin to pack your things, there's a soft knock on your door

“Enter”

Jace enters the room, closing the door behind him. He stands awkwardly for a moment, his hands fidgeting at his sides. Finally, he takes a deep breath and speaks, his voice filled with concern

"Are you really okay with this, going to Winterfell and seeing...him again?"

“I…have to” your back is turn from him as you put your clothing into leather bags

His expression softens and he moves closer to you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder* "I know, but that doesn't make it any easier. I don't want you to get hurt, especially not by him."

“You need not worry Jace, I will be fine.” You already know that’s a lie. And he does too. But saying it out loud makes it feel true.

"You can say that all you want, but that doesn't make it any less worrying. I know how much he meant to you before."

“I am not going there to pursue him, I am going there to gain the North as an ally for our house.”

Jace nods, his expression serious once more

"I know that's the purpose of the mission, but you can't deny that seeing him again will be hard for you. You have feelings for him."

“What are you saying Jace.”

Jace sighs and runs a hand through his hair, glancing at you with concern "I'm saying that you're fooling yourself if you think going to Winterfell and seeing Cregan Stark isn't going to stir up feelings you thought you had buried."

“So what if it does…It’s not like I’m going to act on them.” You’re just going to do what is asked of you and leave. Nothing more.

"You say that now, but what happens if he wants to revisit the past with you? What if he wants to rekindle what you had between you?"

You let out a huff of frustration. “Just stop Jace. You don’t know anything anyways…”

He takes a step back, his expression hurt, almost. "What do I know? I know that you've been in love with Cregan Stark since you were children, and I know how much it hurt you when he left and you still haven’t gotten over it!”

You turn and look at him in disbelief that he would mention the very thing you’ve been trying to avoid. “Just go…Leave!”

Jace's expression softens at your harsh tone, and he takes another step back, swallowing thickly. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it again, his eyes flicking to the ground before back up to you.

“Fine.”

He shuts the door with force.

You stand alone in your room, the silence heavy and oppressive without Jace's presence. You feel your emotions welling up inside of you, a mixture of anger and sadness and frustration at Jace's words. But deep down, you can't shake the feeling that you know he’s right.

*****

For the next two days you stay in your room, packing and pondering until the night it’s time to leave.

The atmosphere in the castle is tense, the realization of your imminent departure hanging heavy in the air. Rhaenyra and the rest of the family have gathered to see you off.

Rhaenyra stands next to Silverwing, watching you with a mixture of sadness and pride. The dragon emits a low, melancholic whine, as if sensing the gravity of the situation. The boys and daemon stand on either side of Rhaenyra, their faces stoic but anxious.

“I will see you in few weeks time.”

Rhaenyra nods, her expression solemn. She steps forward and hugs you tightly, pulling you to her chest. The hug is firm and possessive, conveying a mixture of love and protectiveness.

"Be safe, my love. I will count every day until your return."

You step aside to hug Jace. He returns your hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. He holds you close for a moment, his chin resting on the top of your head. When he pulls back, his expression is still serious, and he mutters quietly.

"Be careful, alright? Don't do anything stupid."

“No promises…”

Jace gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to allow Luke to say his goodbyes. Luke hugs you tightly, burying his face into your shoulder. When he pulls back, he's fighting back tears, his voice wavering when he speaks

"I don't want you to go."

Joffrey then hugs at your waist, teary eyed, his aebottom lip trembling.

"Please don't go, please...I want you to stay."

Joffrey buries his face into your stomach, his small hands tugging at your dress. Luke places a hand on Joffrey's shoulder, trying to soothe his younger brother's distress. He looks at you helplessly, his own eyes glassy with tears

“Hush sweetlings…I wont be gone forever” You kiss their cheeks and tops of their heads

"You'll come back, right? You promise?"

“I promise.”

Joffrey and Luke both look up at you, their eyes wide and pleading, searching your face for assurance. Rhaenyra steps forward, her hand resting on each of their shoulders.

"Your sister will be back before you know it, and she'll come back with a great success for our house."

Even Jace tears up a bit but rolls his eyes, trying to play it off.

"I'm not tearing up. I just got something in my eye, that's all." He rubs at his eye, trying to cover up the fact that he is, in fact, on the verge of crying.

Then comes Daemond with a large, tight hug, practically suffocating you.

“Alright alright I love you too” you struggle with a strained voice and he finally lets go

“Just come back in one piece.”

“You know I will” you playfully push his shoulder.

You tie your bags to Silverwing and mount her saddle, blowing air kisses as you lead silver wing out of the den and out into the dark of the night.

The entire family watches as you and Silverwing take flight, the dragon's wings beating strongly as you soar into the black sky.

A sense of melancholy hangs in the air, the weight of your absence already palpable among those left behind. Rhaenyra's expression is solemn as she watches you disappear into the distance, a silent prayer on her lips for your safe return.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoyed and forgive me for the delay. AP clases are NOT for the weak 😭 part 2 will definitely be out winning the next few weeks tho. Let me cook.

PS. The plot is a bit different from the teaser. Please don’t be mad at me🙏🏾

@beebeechaos @iv-vee @aemondwhoresworld @obscure-beauty @6ternalsun @msmarvelknight @melsunshine @cregansfourthwife

[see-arcane]

It's a special day in Dracula!

Jonathan experiences a flashback to the Horrors, Mina experiences bisexuality in the wild, and the poor nameless Pretty Girl in Piccadilly rides out of the story, parcel in hand and chic cartwheel hat on, oblivious to the Count stalking after her. In honor of the anonymous young lady who proves for a third time that Dracula and Mina have literally the exact same taste—Jonathan, Lucy, random beauties on the street—I wanted to take a crack at giving her an identity.

But I am also indecisive as hell, so she can be one of a number of pretty persons of note. For example…

Miss Piccadilly #1: Clarimonde

My original favorite choice, if only because I love the idea of Clarimonde still cruising around after the heartbreak she left behind in her own story, “La Morte Amoureuse” (The Dead Woman in Love), aka “Clarimonde.” She is now and always the undead Parisian party queen of my heart, but I could see her traveling around to dabble in hedonism in other corners of the world. Naturally she has to go and catch the attention of the local aristos. Human or otherwise.

But, of course, she is psychic and can read Dracula like a bloodstained book. Keep walking, bat bastard. Her vampiric voluptuousness is reserved for VIPs. (Maybe that fetching mourning couple she saw gawking in the park…)

Miss Piccadilly #2: Helen Vaughan

Oh, Helen Vaughan, elegant hostess and demigoddess horror supreme. I don’t care what Arthur Machen says, your story did not end with the conclusion of The Great God Pan. You were life and death and human and beast and all the hideous realities in-between and a mortal end could never keep you down. Especially not when you have so many paramours left to entertain! So many secrets profane and maddening to share! One of these days you’ll catch one who won’t dissolve into madness and self-destruction after a little innocent eldritch chit-chat.

Like this charming Count here! Count? Count, where are you going? Count, she just wants you to meet her dad—why are you running? Why are you running?

Miss Piccadilly #3: Luna Blue

What’s this? An OC?

Well, of course. No one’s actually naming their child Luna Blue in the late 1800s; that’s just her professional pseudonym. It’s amazing how well the spiritualist movement can work out for a girl with a knack for shuffling painted cards or chatting with the night sky and the occasional planchette. She can even boast something more than showmanship behind her skill. The sort of ‘something’ that worried Transylvanians might whisper about in fear on a certain haunted date while a likewise worried solicitor breaks out the polyglot dictionary.

She recognizes Dracula for what he is as surely as he recognizes her. No, she is not interested, voivode. Even if she was, she’d be out a benefactor within—a hard look at him here; cold and far—oh dear. Scarcely more than a month. At least by her guess. But oh, there is good news in his future too! He shall cross paths with an old friend soon! How lovely. She’s certain these things are not connected. Don’t even worry about it.

Miss Piccadilly #4: Cosette Marchand

The fourth and final young lady in the roster is one more original character and she deserves absolutely none of the horror coming her way. This is Miss Cosette Marchand, an artist by hobby and profession. The parcel received from the jeweler’s was a commissioned necklace and earrings she designed herself. A glittering birthday gift for her mother who will chide her for such an extravagance, Cosy, she has no place to wear such things! But they are lovely…

She’s so lost in her daydreaming that she doesn’t realize the hansom behind her has been following the victoria since leaving Piccadilly Square. All the way home. Home, where there are no bloodletting suitors, no wise professors, no divine or diabolic powers to forestall the natural progression of things between predator and prey. There is only a nightmare waiting for her, unobstructed.

…By anything other than my own bleeding heart. I’m too attached. She has to make it.

So.

How does Miss Marchand’s story go?

Turns out, her mother has some experience in these matters. Her mother being one Laura Marchand, who left a thirsty terror of her own behind twenty years ago. One she has mourned as much as feared in the time between the love of a husband eaten by war and the sharper kisses of a girl far more than a friend or living being. She recognizes the sour reflection of Carmilla’s eagerness in the Thing pretending to be a nobleman at the door. She still has General Spielsdorf’s axe. She has kept the steel sharp. Tonight she will whet it sharper still, from dusk until dawn.

You see all that yellow in her dress. It’s recently become one of her favorite colors, owing to a most diverting play she happened to read. Such lush storytelling! What decadent inspiration! She simply had to design something fine in honor of it. She does hope her mother will appreciate the artful way the gold was wrought, twisting in echo of the Sign. A mother who has gone so strangely still since she happened to glance at the second act of the play. Still and cold. Perhaps she will be cheered by her gift and their guests. There is a nobleman at the door, Mother! And there, see, leaking from the yellow damask wall is His Tattered Majesty—oh. Where has their visitor gone? He shall miss the masquerade! Ah, well. His loss.

Scheherazade…2! In which Miss Marchand pulls a Jonathan by stalling via playing to charm and utility. She wears many hats beside the cartwheel when it comes to the arts. Portraiture, fashion in fabric and ornaments. Surely the Count can savor the spider-and-fly game a little longer for that and some pretty panicked smiles. Look how much patience and frustration he burned on Lucy! Yes, yes, a little while longer to draw things out, play at flirtation between artist and patron, isn’t this nice? Ha ha. (Please don’t drink me please don’t drink me please don’t drink me.)

Well. She got drinked. And maybe succumbed to death before the Count could get slain. But the bat bastard does get put down eventually and she still gets to pop back up! Good news: She’s not under the Count’s thrall! She can think and act for herself! Nice! Bad news: Vampire. At least she can drink her problems* away. (*Problems with names like Atherton, Wotton, Gray…)

Her neighbors are the other three Piccadilly girls. Dracula makes his way downtown, walking fast, walking faster— 

Werewolf free space.

[callofdudes]

*presents to you* price being a father figure to you and bringing you back to meet his wife where she treats you like her child 😭😭😭😭

Three makes a family.

John Price's history with his inability to have children was a rough one. His wife was a gentle woman with the heart of a lion inside. She had all the care a mother could provide and no children she could pour her love into. It was a struggle, but over the years they'd made due with themselves.

The idea of adoption has come up a few times, but John doesn't like the thought of being away so much from said child. It just wasn't a good situation they had found themselves in.

Price creating the 141 was just one of those ways that Price felt what it might be like to have family. Sure, he got his fair experience of what rounding up a gaggle of children would have been like. But he enjoyed the feeling of having fellow adults he could meet on his level while feeling paternal toward them.

You are one of them.

Price has had his fair share of wild run ins with you. And he's no stranger to getting you and John for something. But you were a good soldier regardless.

Talk of his family was limited of course. You guys knew he didn't have children, but not much more than that. Simon had been to the house before but refused to tell, it wasn't the greatest time when you visited anyway.

But now it's your turn to take up the mantle. Price's wife had decided she wanted company over at the house when he returned, so he invited one of you in secret as to not make the others potentially jealous or crowd his wife.

And that's how you got here, in the busy rush of the airport and following Price like a loet lamb to find the exit after grabbing your bags. Price looked around for his wife, and he spotted a sign with his name, and the most beautiful woman.

He smiled and led you over, falling in love all over again when he saw her.

"John!" She put the sign down and rushed to hug him, his firm arms curling around her. "Rebecca." *He replied fondly, kissing the top of her head. She had chest length blonde hair and a simple but lovely complexion.

You couldn't help a little smile at seeing them reunited, and a tad sheepish at meeting your captain's wife.

She opened her eyes, still smooshed against his chest and waved at you softly.

You waved back shyly.

They pulled away and Rebecca held out her hand to you. "Rebecca, and you are-"

"Everyone on base calls me Egg."

"Ah, John has told me a lot about you." She motioned for you two to follow her, walking with you back to the entrance of the airport.

"Wait- what has he been saying??" You cocked an eyebrow up.

"Only good things I promise." Price said quickly, to which Rebecca chuckled and shook her head softly.

You shot Price a look, and he innocently turned his head away to look back at his wife like nothing happened.

Rebecca gave you an entire window tour on the way back. You didn't mind listening to her introduce you to everything you passed. Her tone was warm and her smile never left her lips when he addressed you. It made you feel welcome, it was such a warm feeling that you felt around Price. Fitting.

Their house was beautiful, as much as London homes are, but theirs had a particular charm to it. Like a newly wed couple buying their first house together and never moving.

You lugged your bags up the driveway and into the house behind Rebecca, Price keeping the door open for you.

"Your place is nice." You commented when you put your bags down.

"Thank you. The spare bedroom is upstairs, I'll show you." She slipped her shoes off and motioned for you to follow.

The spare bedroom was a queen mattress, the walls were a light baby blue, and it made you smile. "Child's room?" You asked without thinking, and soon realizing your mistake.

Rebecca smiled, though her eyes dimmed in sadness. "We'd hoped. But you can have it." She went to the closet and pulled out some extra blankets. "In case it gets cold you can layer up. And if you need anything in here don't hesitate to tell us."

You nodded. "Thank you, I will."

Price squeezed your shoulder as you went to set up the room, and then turned to greet his wife properly with a loving kiss.

---

The first couple days at the house were nice, Rebecca was incredibly hospitable. She accommodated what you needed, and the double attention from Price was a win for you.

Rebecca couldn't help seeing you as a kiddo for her to take care of. The way Price was with you, wrapping an arm around you for snuggles or teasing you at dinner.

"Do you like cookies??" She asked from the kitchen as she kneaded the small balls of cookie dough and placed them on a tray.

"Cookies sound good. What kind??" You looked over at her from the table.

"Just chocolate chip. I figured I'd go simple."

You smiled a little. "Yeah, that sounds nice."

She nodded and finished putting the cookies on the tray and slid them into the oven. "They'll be out in a bit." She came by and gently patted your shoulder, a comforting touch from her.

Price came in from the patio after having a smoke and coughed when he walked in.

Rebecca and you both looked at him when he entered.

"John, be careful." Rebecca scolded softly, walking over and lifting his chin, seeing his tired eyes. She sighed softly and took his hand. "Go relax darling, a nap will do you more good than a cigar."

He hummed and shrugged. He tiredly stole a kiss from her lips before he had to lean into his arm to cough again.

You put your phone down and lightly shake your head. "Come on Captain."

Price huffed indignantly. "Oh so now both of you are policing me around??" He smirked and tugged Rebecca in by her waist and allowed you over.

But he didn't fight, allowing himself to be led to bed, and he flopped down, feeling you curl up to his left side, and Rebecca got comfy with a book at his other.

Price squeezed her hand and ruffled your hair. He wasn't old, but mannnn, he loves his old man naps.

You smiled as you got comfy, looking up at Rebecca. She looked back at you and smiled too, letting you rest.

And you woke up to the delicious smell of chocolate chip cookies. Price searched lazily for Rebecca, his arm still securely wrapped around you.

You yawned and rolled, hiding against his chest. He patted your shoulder and looked over at the door. "C'mon... I smell cookies."

"Ok..." You groaned and managed to drag yourself off of Price's chest and follow him downstairs where Rebecca was reading at the table.

"Cookies are ready." She said when she heard you two, smiling softly.

"Thank you, darling." Price said sleepily, going to the stove and taking up a cookie.

You hummed excitedly and also went for one. "Gooey." You said between bites, "I like them."

"I'm glad I could make them for you two."

She was like Price to you, a strong rock, and a warm embrace. She was like a mother, and that made you happy as much as it did her. She'd give anything to be a mother, and she wasn't picky of who it was she got to cherish.

(I know there's a lot of her character we've digested over a long time, this was the best I could come up with. I'm on a time crunch but take this. 🙂)

[inpermanences]

Caryn Pines, whose still alive to witness her little free spirit Stanley miraculously rise from the dead. The Stan twins buy a brand new sofa that extends into a bed just for her, so she doesn’t have to make a treacherous journey up the stairs. It’s her own slice of heaven, seeing her babies get along like they did when they were children. Seeing her grandchildren parallel to their uncles; Dipper, studious and reclusive, Mabel, crafty and eccentric.

It all comes to a head when Caryn wakes up at the witching hour. There’s ruckus being made in the kitchen, pushing herself upright and cursing at everything under the sun as she grabs a broom. She’s ready to beat whatever creature made the mistake of entering her sons home — pausing at the sight of her two sons.

“We need to put a lock on the sugar. I don’t know if my stomach can tolerate another Mabel’s Guide To Cooking experiment.” Ford grumbles. He opens the fridge, taking out a lemonade pitcher and pours out two glasses.

Stan’s chuckles. “Mhm. I know where you could get some sugar.”

Ford rolls his eyes at the cheesy line, having heard it a million times before. Thick fingers hook into the band of Ford’s boxers to reel him close to Stan. Ford narrows his eyes, raising an eyebrow as both his hands are preoccupied with glass, the condensation wetting his palms.

Stan grins, leaning in to steal a kiss.

It lasts for a mere few seconds before Caryn’s screams bloody murder.

The twins pull apart as if they’ve been electrocuted. Lemonade glasses crash into the sticky hardwood flooring, as they both snatch the nearest possible weapon. Stanley, an animal spinal cord with it’s ribs still attached. Stanford, a lamp.

“Mom? Mom, what’s wrong?” Stan asks, putting the bones down and taking a step closer. Caryn clutches the broom like a lifeline. She can only stare at this-this monster that’s inches closers with every step. He holds out his hand, presumably to take away the broom from her clutch. Motherly instinct kicks in, to protect Stanford from his own twin. Her arms rise to strike Stanley down. “Ow! Ow! Mom — that hurts! OW!”

“You freak!” Caryn screeches in agony and anger. Stan goes frigid underneath the safety of his arms from his mother’s blows. He looks down at his mother with her fury in his eyes — Stanley thinks she’s talking about Stanford. “You’re a monster!”

“I know it’s - OW! - the old age talking.” Stanley growls, one hand grabbing the handle of the broomstick. It only infuriates her further. “I don’t care if you’re our mom. I won’t let you talk about Stanford like that.”

“Mom, it’s really early in the morning. I think it’s better if we talk about whatever is bothering you with some breakfast.” Ford tries. They think she’s stupid. She’s known everything about them. How could she miss this? Ford places the lamp down, stepping closer to de-escalate the situation. “Please, stop hitting Stanley.”

“I saw you kissing your brother!” Caryn screams.

The twins freeze.

Caryn turns her focus back to Stanley. There’s no love for him anymore. Not for this depraved abomination corrupting her sons innocence. She tugs at the broom and the handle spilts in two. “How could you do this? After all the pain and misery you put us through, how could you?”

“Mom, I’m sorry—“ Stan starts.

Caryn doesn’t let him finish. She thrusts the broom handle forward like a sword and lets the splintered wood make a flesh wound into his left shoulder. Stan yells in pain, hand coming up to cover the bleeding.

“You ruined your own life! And now you you’re trying to drag your brother down with you!” She tries to strike another blow but misses as he stumbles backward, falling flat on his ass. Ironic, that even as he raises his uninjured arm to protect himself, it’s a strikingly all-to-familiar position. As a child protecting himself Filbrick’s coropal punishment.

Ford steps between them then, using himself as a shield to protect Stan from any further harm. “You’re worse than Filbrick. At least he wasn’t a fucking pervert for his own family! I want you dead, Stanley. DEAD!”

Ford takes the wooden handle out of her hands without a fight, tossing it away. Silence fills the room, none of them knowing what to say.

“Grunkle Stan?” Dipper calls from the kitchen entryway. The three of them snap their heads in his direction. He stands there with a bat in his hands, Mabel tucked safely behind him with her own grappling gun; looking worriedly at their bleeding Grunkle. Stanley scrambles onto his feet then, walking past the younger set of twins.

“Stanley, wait!” Ford calls for him. He raises his hand in a futile attempt to reach him, feet frozen in place as he lets the distance grow further. There’s the sharp sound of a door slamming, followed with a car speeding away from the Mystery Shack.

[morgana-larkin]

Hiyaaa! Can you please do Agatha Harkness x fem reader, where Agatha has a panic attack and Y/N is there to calm her down please?

Hi! Thank you so much for sending an Agatha prompt! I did my best to write her as it’s my first time writing for Agatha. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

Protecting You

Warning: none

Words: 2.3k

“That damn stupid witch won’t crack!” Agatha yells as she enters her house. She just got back from killing Wanda’s dog, hoping that having her kids get upset will cause her to crack or bring the dog back to life, but she didn’t. She then goes to her kitchen and magic’s herself a tea. As soon as she takes a sip there’s a knock at her door. She puts her tea down and goes to answer it.

“Hiya neighbour!” You say and Agatha smiles at seeing you.

You met Agatha at one of those Neighbourhood meetings that Dottie was having. She offered you some alcohol when you looked as bored as her and you’ve been friends since.

“Hi Clara, how are you?” She asks as she steps aside to let you in.

“I’m alright, busy day though. Joe wanted some alone time so give our son a woodworking lesson so I decided to come here.” You tell her with a smile. “How are you?”

The one thing about you is that Agatha is starting to like you as more than a friend but in this life you’re married and with a child, she has no idea what you were like before.

“Busy as well, Ralph is always off doing god knows what so I can do whatever I want.” She tells you in her Agnes voice and you giggle.

“Must be nice, to not have to tend to a husband or take care of a child.” You tell her with a smile and then you frown. “But I don’t have a child or a husband.” You suddenly say and Agatha looks at you strangely.

“What was that, hun?” She asks you. You then suddenly look up at her with that lost look in your eyes that everyone has and a smile is replaced on your face again.

“What was what?” You ask her and Agatha looks at you before brushing it off.

After a couple hours at her place, you leave to go back home which is across the street. Agatha looks at your retreating form until you’re safe in your home. She then thinks about what happened earlier, you broke through the spell for a second, you’re fighting it really hard. Another thing that she noticed was that you mentioned that you don’t have a child or a husband which brought a smile to her face.

The next day everyone is getting ready for Halloween. In order to not raise suspicion to Wanda, Agatha goes and puts up decorations on her front lawn. When she looks across the street, she sees you doing the same thing but having a hard time hanging something up on the window due to being short. She walks across the street and hangs the decoration for you.

“And there we go!” She says and looks at you with a smile.

“Oh thank you Agnes. I was having trouble as I can’t reach.” You tell her and look down a little embarrassed.

“Oh that’s totally alright! We need short people to do things tall people can’t.”

“Like what?” You ask her, eyes full of wonder.

“Like looking innocent and adorable.” She blurts out before she thinks and your cheeks turn a shade of pink.

“Oh thank you. Um- do you want to come in for some tea? I was just about to have some.”

“Tea sounds lovely, hun.” She says and you both go inside. She should probably get back to plotting against Wanda but she can’t help but be around you.

“And here’s the tea and some biscuits if you’re hungry.” You offer on a plate and then sit down beside her with a cup of tea of your own. You take a sip and then put it on the coffee table and grab a biscuit.

Agatha looks at you curiously, yesterday you broke through the curse by yourself, and she wonders what would happen if you had help.

“Hun?” She starts and you hum and look at her. “Yesterday you said you don’t actually have a child or a husband. Why did you say that?” She asks and you look at her confused.

“What do you mean? My husband is at work and my child is at school.”

“What’s your child’s name?” She asks you and you’re about to say an answer but all of a sudden your mind comes up blank, you have no idea what your child’s name is. Agatha can see it in your eyes that you know something isn’t right but the spell is too strong. She then puts her hand to your temple and lifts the spell from your mind. “There, that must be better.” She tells you and you look at her with fear and confusion.

“What’s going on?” You ask and look around quickly and then at yourself. “What am I wearing? Who are you?”

“My name is Agatha Harkness and I just lifted Wanda’s curse from your mind. I’ll have to put it back in a few minutes to avoid suspicion but I wanted to know who you are.” Agatha tells you and she can see the wheels turning in your mind. “So who are you?”

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N.” You tell her and that says absolutely nothing to her.

“Yesterday you were able to half break through the curse. How?”

“What? I don’t even know what you’re talking about?”

“Are you from Westview? Do you live here?”

No, I’m from New York.” You tell her and she nods and clicks her tongue. “I came here to visit a friend.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“Her name is Sarah, but under the curse she goes by Dottie.” You tell her.

“Seeing her must have triggered you to try and break through the curse, and you managed yesterday.” She figures out. “Look I’m going to get Wanda to break it for everyone, but I have to put the curse back on you to do that, ok?” She says and you shake your head.

“No, please. It’s torture. All I hear and feel is pain and it’s too much!” You tell her and she looks at you with sympathy.

“I’m sorry, but everything will be back to normal soon enough.” She tells you and goes to break it but you get up and you go to run away but she stops you with her magic. “Before I put it back, I do want to do something.” She tells you and then gives you a kiss and you kiss her back. During the kiss she puts the curse back and pulls away before you go back to Clara and lifts her magic.

“Oh, would you look at the time! I gotta get back to those decorations. They’re not going to put themselves up!” You say and she smiles at you before bidding you goodbye.

The next day, she sees you in the crowd when she lifts the spell to torment Wanda. You two lock eyes when Wanda lifts the barrier from a section and tells everyone to leave. Agatha gives you a nod for you to leave but you freeze, for some reason you don’t want to leave her here. Agatha sees you freeze and sees Vision and Wanda’s kids start to disappear due to the barrier being lifted a little and knows you won’t make it. Agatha starts to panic cause she doesn’t want you to get in the crossover of a witch fight. And if to make it worse, the military starts to appear. She finally meets someone she likes and that person might die unless she acts fast. She flies to you, grabs you and flies you away before you have time to react. In a second you’re in your house from the curse and Agatha is looking at you.

“Listen Y/N, I have to go back but you have to leave. Over there is too dangerous for you so you have to run. Escape from the back and just keep going. Do you hear me?” She asks you and you just stare at her.

“I’m not leaving you, why are you staying if she lifted the curse?”

“It’s too complicated for you right now but I have to go back and you just have to run away, do you hear me?”

“I’m not going!” You say and stomp your foot.

“Jesus Y/N! Please go! I don’t want to lose you.” She tells you. “Sarah, your friend is across the barrier, don’t you want to be with her?” She asks you and you shake your head. “Oh my god! The one time I’m trying to save someone’s life and they’re refusing to be saved! Just my luck.” She screams and then turns back to you. “Fine, if you want to die then stay here or go right back on the battlefield.” She tells you while she points to where the battlefield is. “I can’t save you if you go out there, and you more than likely won’t live if you do!” She tells you before leaving through the door.

While Agatha goes back to fighting Wanda, you peek out through the window and see someone step in front of Wanda’s kids and stop the bullets. You see Wanda and Agatha in the air fighting and two Visions fighting. You run out of the house and go to the kids and the stranger that caught a bunch of bullets.

“Who are you?” She asks you.

“I’m-”

“Clara!” Tommy yells. “You’re still here.” He says to you.

“My name is actually Y/N. Who are you?” You ask her.

“My name is Monica. I know Wanda, I know she means no harm, she’ll save us.”

“No harm? Did you not go through the torture and pain in your head? I did and it sucked! If anyone actually saved us, it’s Agatha!” You yell at her and that gets Agatha’s attention, it distracts her long enough for Wanda to throw an object at her and sends her crashing into a building. “Agatha!” You yell and attempt to run to her but gets stopped by Tommy who runs in front of you to block your path.

“You shouldn’t go to her, it’s not safe for anyone to go there.” He tells you. You try again but get stopped again.

“Y/N!” Agatha yells and you look at her. “Leave now!” She continues and Wanda watches with interest.

The fight between Agatha and Wanda continue until Wanda takes all of Agatha’s power and sends them to the ground. You run to them now that everyone else is distracted. You hear Wanda sentence Agatha to imprisonment as Agnes but you run up to them and intervene.

“No wait!” You say before Wanda can do anything. “Don’t do that.”

“And why not?” Wanda asks you.

“Haven’t you already imprisoned enough people?” You ask her and she looks at you with guilt. “I know it was an accident but I think you’ve done enough. Just let her go as is.” You tell her and she seems to think about what you said. “She can’t do anything without her magic.” You add on and Wanda straightens her posture and backs off.

“You make a good point, I’ll let her stay as is.”

“You don’t deserve her magic.” You add when Wanda begins to walk away and she turns around to look at you.

“What did you say?”

“I said you don’t deserve her magic. You’re no better than a villain.”

“A villain would have killed her.” Wanda says.

“A villain would trap an entire town full of innocent people just to have her own happiness.” You counter and she looks at you before flying off. You then turn around to Agatha who starts walking off and you run after her. “Agatha!” You yell and you both get to the house you lived in under the curse.

“Why did you save me?” She asks you.

“Because I care about you.”

“I have no magic, I might as well die.” She says. “I can’t do anything without my magic.” She says and her breathing gets heavy.

“I don’t have magic and I think life is good without it.” You say, trying to cheer her up.

“You don’t understand, you’ve never had magic so you don’t know any better.” She says and she suddenly feels like she isn’t getting enough oxygen and she falls to the ground, breathing quickly. “I can’t breathe, why can’t I breathe?” She gets out and you run to her on the ground.

“Agatha, listen to me, you’re having a panic attack, ok. Can you look at me, please?” You tell her and a few seconds later she turns to look at you. “Good, now you need to follow my breathing.” You tell her and you start a breathing technique to help people who are having a panic attack. She tries to follow but fails, so you do the next best thing quickly so she doesn’t pass out. You grab both her cheeks and pull her in for a kiss. You pull back a few seconds later when you notice she isn’t breathing heavily and fast anymore. “Well that worked.” You say to her as she looks at you shocked.

“So you just kissed me to get me out of the panic attack?” She asks you and you shake your head after a couple seconds of thought,

“I kissed because I also wanted to kiss you, because I like you. All those moments where we were Clara and Agnes, I remember them and parts of Clara were me and you were completely you. And I began to like you, Clara began to like you, without even knowing.” You tell her. “I like you, Agatha.” You finish and she looks at you with wide eyes. She then surges forward and kisses you.

Taglist:

@imaginesmultifandoms

Let me know if you want to be added!

[sar3nka]

Well fuck they can't remove the tumor in Bezi so it's pretty much a death sentence. The only hope is that her meds will stop the growth completely and she lives a month or 3 at best...

She's fine now, will talk to the vet a bit in like an hour and see what are the options. But the surgeon who called me to inform me abt all this told me not to get my expectations very high

[akaluan]

Tanya the Evil always gives me Emotions when I try to read it, which does make it harder to get thru each book despite how much I love it, but I think I've made a Mistake by trying to read it while listening to Sabaton's "The War to End All Wars" album.

Y'all, I hit the song Versailles while reading Tanya's internal monologue about the cost of war while she was in the mop up of Operation Lock Pick. Y'ALL, when I say I had Too Many Emotions to continue reading, especially while on an airplane surrounded by strangers, I mean I had SO MANY EMOTIONS.

[spotaus]

Thinking about Orchid and Horror again.

[chimonai]

❥𝟓 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄.

i.  beautiful and bad - nicole dollanganger. i don’t give a fuck about love  /  never did, never will  /  wanna take you out on a date with death  /  kiss you with a power drill  /  ‘cause beauty don’t mean shit to me  /  only when it’s a weapon and deadly  /  think you’re big and bad but you got nothing on me

ii.  sleep awake - mother mother. out on the street i keep a started car  /  who only waits for me  /  conveniently

iii.  if i had a heart - fever ray. this will never end ‘cause i want more  /  more, give me more, give me more  /  if i had a heart, i could love you  /  if i had a voice, i would sing  /  after the night when i wake up  /  i’ll see what tomorrow brings

iv.  snake - nicole dollanganger. in the hazy blue, you look so sweet  /  i almost forget what you’d do to me  /  if i let you  /   ‘cause even blood will run  /  like the tears of a saint  /  with a face like that  /  you could get away with anything  /  and i know you know that

v.  fucking crazy - skylar grey. who knows why i did it, baby  /  i’ve been told a thousand times  /  that i’m just fucking crazy  /  who knows, it’s the way god made me  /  and i’ve been told a thousand times  /  that i’m just fucking crazy

stolen from: my other blog ^o^  /  tagging: @virtusdemonte, @ofgentleresolve ( mana or yoojin :pleading: ), @eternasci, @temsikfates​ and you reading this ! ♡

[gh-0-stcup]

Love how fast Angel can snap from legit threatening Darla's life to husband mode once he realizes shit's gotten real.

[lvlinn]

Lenora as a kid because I can

[mymelx]

being pregnant with Sukuna's child in the Heian era

True form Sukuna. Established relationship. They're married, actually. Sukuna is stern, cold, and cruel. Yet insanely in love with you.

No usage of y/n

Currently thinking about how Sukuna would act when you're pregnant with his child.

You're his little girl, always in his private chamber, mostly acting like a brat but always getting pampered by him. At first, you complained about always being held in his private chamber, but gradually, you started finding comfort on his bed, his scent.

You would lay on his bed when he's out of his chamber, taking his scent in. Walking between his clothes in his closet, looking at all the things he owns.

Now you're heavily pregnant with his child, looking absolutely adorable and gorgeous. You ask him for help more often, looking at his stern yet gentle eyes innocently with a cute pout, complaining about how heavy and tired you feel.

He would chuckle softly and gently put two of his four massive arms around your waist, bend down to reach your cute face and fill it with smooches. Your temples, your cheeks, your sensitiv jaw. He would whisper praises into your ear

"Is my little girl tired..? How cute. My little one is carrying my child. I am proud of you."

Then he would help you with whatever you want.

One time, he came back to his chamber, seeing one of the servants next to your bed.

His eye twitches since he doesn't remember allowing any of his servants to come to his private chamber to you, his precious woman.

He thinks maybe you have asked for the servant, so he doesn't say anything and silently towers over you and the servant, inspecting carefully.

You notice him and smile while tilting your head

"My lord, I asked her to come to help me with my hair."

He only replies with "I will do it for you."

Then he turns to the servant, his eyes speaking for him. The servant quickly bows and walks out.

The other time, you were walking with him in his mansion, an excited servant daring to congratulate you on your pregnancy. You giggle, and thank her. She excitingly extends one of her hands to touch your pregnant belly, only for it to be cut off by Sukuna before reaching your belly.

He hates how people look at your belly, obviously wanting to touch it. But to actually attempt to touch it was insane to him.

You were his pretty little pregnant wife. Only he had the right to touch and caress you.

He would cuddle with you every night, caressing your hair and belly, kissing your temples, praising you, and thanking you for carrying his child, for being his wife, and for being his first and last lover.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

ring pop proposal ♡

fem reader, pure fluff, childhood friends to lovers lemme alone do not perceive me yk the drill by now, lil self indulgent fic cus i love childhood friends to lovers and puppy crushes, polar opposite’s trope, this reeks of my oc x canon katsu ship sooooo shh shh do not perceive.

the first person who realizes katsuki has a crush on you is his mom because when she comes to pick him up one day from kindergarten he suddenly mentions you. it’s an innocent little interaction he had with you that mitsuki doesn’t think much about at first, simply surprised her son managed to befriend someone outside of his little group of friends until he starts mentioning you more and more.

soon you’re the only thing he talks about and katsuki even starts begging her to have you come over to play. mitsuki is extremely curious to know what kind of person you are to have been able to enchant her son the way you have, she says it’s fine as long as your parents agree.

you’re a sweet little thing, almost the complete opposite of her little devil’s spawn. you’re polite and a little shy when you ask “ is it okay if i come to play at katsu’s house, please miss katsuki’s mom ?” and how could she say no to you ? she pulls at your cheek lovingly and her son almost snarls at her.

“no touchin’ !” he snarks, pulling you against him like you were his teddy bear.

mitsuki was the first to realize her son had a crush on you when you were always around. when he found something cool during a class trip you were there and whenever he was upset it was always because you had argued about something irrelevant that seemed so much bigger in the eyes of a child.

she realized because katsuki had, and in some ways, will always be rowdy. he’s rough and temperamental and moody—basically, he can be quite the brat. (she wonders where he gets that from a lot) but he’s different with you.

he’ll always be a little rough around the edges but it’s the thought that counts. he drags you around a little too hard but it's to show you something he knows you'd like and you repay him by being patient with him and letting him drag you around to his hearts content. he let’s you use the crayons he’d just denied another classmate seconds ago and when it’s really early in the morning and you’re still sleepy unlike your more energetic friend, he waits for you. sitting with you in the reading corner quietly commenting on a little bit of everything in the book you’re sharing until you’re awake enough to start the day because katsuki wanted you to be together through anything no matter what, starting the day without you was simply unimaginable.

you offer him your kindness and he repays you with his loyalty. acting like your guard dog, protecting you from everything and everyone he considers a threat to you. he goes a bit overboard but it’s the thought that counts and he’s definitely got the right intentions.

“ i’m g’nna marry yn when i grow up !” katsuki proclaims from the backseat of the car after mitsuki had come to pick him up. she looks at him through the rear view mirror only to see he’s not even looking at her, looking out the window somewhat longingly, watching as his school fades away from his sight, further and further and further away from you. she smiles to herself.

“yeah ?” she asks “yeah !” he responds proudly, crossing his arms “ i asked yn if she wanted to be my wife an’ she said yeah, so we’re gettin’ married !”

“huh. how’d you propose ? you don’t have a ring.” she jests.

katsuki responds immediately and exclaims he does have one, shuffling around to reach for something in his pocket. he pulls out a plastic ring pop holder, the candy on top is missing and mitsuki can imagine what happened to it.

“gave her one of these !”

“so that’s why you had me buy those from the store last time,” she hums. “ you ate it, though.”

katsuki tries to roll his eyes but just ends up looking up and to the side, mitsuki recognizes it as him trying to mimic what she does a lot and she snorts.

“well duh, we both did ! ‘f i kept it in my pocket it woulda gotten gross !” he defends. mitsuki simply responds with a hum, smile on her face growing larger as she hears her son happily chatting about the rest of his day with you.

she knows her katsuki is hard to handle. extremely so. but when she sees the way you both interact she can tell something is there. you don’t ‘handle’ him. you like being around him. you like playing and talking with him, she sees how happy you make him whenever you come over for playdates. he holds your hand when you get scared and you hug him tight and beam when you see him again after he’s gotten over a nasty cold.

she can tell you make her son happy and he does the same for you in the way children do with pinky promises and shy cheek kisses, kisses over tiny wounds and refusing to be separated whenever the rowdier one of you both gets his recess time taken away for being naughty.

mitsuki hopes this crush, this love you have for her son can grow along with you. she hopes you’ll stick around as katsuki grows up more and potentially more rowdy and rougher around the edges but even more enamored with you. and with the way her son is squirming around in his seat and tugging at his seatbelt, giddy about you accepting his ring pop proposal, she has a funny feeling you’ll be sticking around for a long time.

[chilumi-shipper]

Mama and Papa

Neuvillette x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Breeding Kink, Cockwarming, Creampie

Summary: You absolutely adore the Melusines, treating every single one as if they're you're own child. That tenderness you hold dear for the cute little creatures was what drew the Chief Justice to you in the first place, seeing how even the tough Melusine guards seem to indulge and melt into your motherly embrace. However, for some reason, the scene of you all sweet and caring with the Melusines invoked another feeling from Neuvillette, one more... flithy and sinister than mere adoration.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

His eyes can't help but wander...

From the papers on his desk, all the way to your figure sitting on the floor. Two little Melusines accompanied you, one sleeping on your lap, the other behind you and braiding your hair.

The serenity of the scene before him prevented him from keeping his eyes off you... your presence was simply too alluring.

"Miss Y/N, are you our Mama?" Sedene, the one braiding your hair, suddenly asked, opting a surprised look from you, as well as your lover just a few feet away from you.

There was innocence in the little darlings eyes, "You are very nice to us, just like a Mama." She reasoned her question as she finishes off your braid with a bow.

"Hmmm, I guess I am your Mama! If you want me to be." You answered, caressing Sedene's cheek. "And that means that Neuvillette over there is your Papa!"

The Chief Justice assessed what had just unfolded in front of him, the cutest interaction he's ever seen in, perhaps, his entire life. Sedene's eyes met his, expectantly waiting for a confirmation of what you said.

"I suppose that makes sense." He answered the Melusine's questioning gaze, enjoying the huge smile that was brought to her face as she looks back at you.

That is when Neuvillette can truly take in the situation...

You and him... Mama and Papa...

Being parents together, that would mean seeing you with a swollen belly, nurturing a baby born of his and your love...

From him breeding you and coating your insides with his cum, your breasts would be producing milk for your child, and you would look absolutely radiant completely naked for him to please make love to and-

"Papa!" Neuvillette was taken out of his (very filthy) trance when Liliath, the one previously asleep on your lap, yells for him.

When he looked at her though, the Melusine gasps, "It's true..." She then looks back at Sedene. "He is our Papa! He looked when I called him Papa!"

"That's what Mama said!"

You giggled at their conversation, none the wiser of the piercing eyes that stared at you and was currently picturing you in his dirty fantasies.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"W-Woahh... darling, hold on..." Your words seem to only come out as a breath, closing your eyes as you hold on for dear life.

He had you in a mating press, keeping your legs pressed against your chest as he eases into you slowly. Neuvillette is rather big, and you held desperately on his arms as he shoved himself all the way in.

He lets out a deep groan when he finally started to move, immediately opting for a fast pace. "Darling... I-" Neuvillette found it hard to get his words out, the feeling of your pussy squeezing him tight was far too good to be interrupted by his thoughts.

He was being rough with you, holding tight onto your thighs, thrusting hard into you, making sure to mover around so that you feel him fill you up to the brim with his cock. It wasn't like your usual love making... this one... he means business...

And boy, did you feel what he meant by the way his cock pounded you over and over, giving your pulsating cunt the pleasure that it wants.

Your husband couldn't be more hot at that moment, so focused on drilling into you, looking intently at where you connect. "I love you, Y/N." He whispered into the air breathlessly, eyes shut as he felt your insides squeeze him.

"I love you too..." you caressed his face and smiled, feeling full of love... in more ways than one.

As you continued, he pounded you even faster, a clear sign that he's about to cum. He would usually pull out already, preparing to coat your breasts with his hot seed.

However, he remains inside you, thrusting continuously, making you call out for him. "Neuvi... Ahhhh...." You moaned as you grabbed onto his arm. "I'm gonna... I need to..."

"Inside."

"Ahhhhg... What...?" You half moaned out, looking at him as you were almost blissed out from his cock fucking you so good.

"I want to cum inside you, Darling..." He said in such a dangerously low voice, sending shivers down your spine. "Will you let me?" He slowed down his thrusts into you, looking at you, almost begging.

You were rather shocked at his request, looking at him wordlessly.

"Please, darling..." He whispered once again. "Wanna breed you..."

And that did it for you, you nodded immediately, allowing him to do as he please.

You moaned loud as you came together, you feeling extremely fucked out as you felt his cum coat your insides, "Ohhh, Neuvi..." He buried his face on the crook of your neck, not bothering to take his cock out of your pussy.

"Thank you... I love you..." He said, his voice muffled by your skin. He inhaled your sweet smell before rolling to your side, holding you close so that you could cockwarm him and keep him all nice and warm. He also wanted to make sure that his cum would stay inside you.

"You know, Neuvillette..." You started in a rather teasing tone. "I think it would take more than one round for you to actually breed me..." You moved to be on to of him, sitting on his cock as you smile almost innocently.

You felt his cock stiffen inside you, making you giggle. "Don't worry, Darling... I'll make sure you get what you want..." You kissed him on the lips, your hips starting to move up and down.

"Breed me, Darling..."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I absolutely love Melusines and now I have adopted every single one of them. I am now their mother.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy my once a year update!