#Of course he loves Raven too much to hurt her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

acid-ixx · 1 month ago

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young, just us?! (again &. again au)

ft. yandere young justice 98 x gn! reader

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist !

off-topic, but i've been hyperfixating so much on the young justice (98 vers), that i've been thinking of another timeline where the entire team falls in love with you during one of their trips to the manor. i mean, who wouldn't? they want to know more about your unshakeable, yet warm presence, but they couldn't due to their teammate's indifference towards the first biological child, you.

so someone assertive like cassie slaps some sense into tim drake for his obvious negligence of you whenever you try to talk to him in front of the team, with her harsh tone and squinted glare, just to make it hurt more, that it just leads you finally catching his eyes—

whilst you're unaware of everything happening in the background scene.

cue his interest being piqued regarding you, his obsessive research that spirals into the need to be a constant in your life, and his attempts at bonding with you before it's too late; but with his team of course, because it's now he realizes just how lonely you truly are, with the lack of friends and hobbies only done by yourself, for yourself, in the ghostly manor— whilst all your siblings are out there fighting crime, socializing, with so many adventures that no normal person could comprehend.

tim is familiar with what it's like living in an empty house, before he became robin.

he trusts his teammates, his friends with his life, so it wouldn't be a problem if you were to be acquainted with them; it would be a problem, though, if he soon doesn't quench their thirst to meet with you yet again.

so imagine, one day, you're just out there gardening, humming tunes as always like routine, the next you're being dragged in impulse's arms of all heroes, his hold on you too intimate for a stranger you met once. tim's voice echoes through intangible earphones, lightly threatening the speedster to keep you safe through your fast travel. you're sped from the manor to places unknown, kissed by the air cutting through your body, until you're at their secret cave, surrounded by his teammates, dumbly looking around until a girl rips you away from impulse's arm to hug you tightly.

she acts as a cushion for you to lay your head on, dizzy from the motion enough to make you nearly vomit. but all she does is coo at your swaying head and push her palm on your nape to have you stabilize in hold.

"you okay, sweetie? i swear, if bart got you sick, i'm going to punch him so hard right now."

you're quite unsure how to reply, mind too numb to register the speedster voicing his complaints, or the disgruntled sigh from your brother who shakes his head, commenting under his breath about "keeping affection to a low, for now."

you've never been held this tightly for years, but she beats you through your disoriented tears right after a moment's beat. through your speechless squeaks, she offers you a soft and warm, "welcome, buddy!" her blonde hair glimmers under the light compared to yours.

she calls herself arrowette, suzanne king-jones her personal identity, but insists just as quickly that you call her cissie with your sweet little voice, you nod hazily. everything's happening at a hasty pace that you couldn't even question why nobody's batting an eye at the identity reveal to a civilian, a stranger that is you.

but just as quickly as she introduces herself, your attention is dragged to an all-too familiar, handsome face, his infamous sunglasses resting on his nose, piercings on his eyebrows, and raven sidepart as he shakes your hands and blows you a kiss. a batarang slices through the air and nearly misses his head, you could tell your brother's seething by now.

it doesn't take much for everyone else to introduce themselves after the awkward tension from superboy telling you to call him "baby".

but your mind is still spinning either way, from the daze of impulse's speed, or all the names being thrown into your head, while they all repeatedly shower you with compliments that has you reeling from the foreign domain of affection you've stepped foot on.

just like that, the team takes advantage of your timidness, your eyes plastered on the ground as your face flushes with blazing heat, fighting each other with verbal insults whilst praising themselves in front of you in a battle to assert who's better. it's tim taking your arms and dragging you off to another room that makes for a perfect distraction, apologizing for the sudden intrusion in your life, and how he's willing to make up for the negligence he's caused you from every since he came to the manor— that these people are going to be your new friends.

he says it all so assertively, like he's done his research and the data he's received are all correct, as if he's sure this is the greatest course of action for your life.

the transition from silence to a room filled with chatters, words all directed to you, rather than from a passing glance, their efforts to communicate with someone inept at socializing yet never giving up... well, you couldn't quite comprehend it yet, but tim could see how your face flushes with warmth and the jitters of your fingers from excitement at the implication of new and better... friends.

the taste of the word feeling so distant yet welcomed, he watches the smile slowly plastered on your face and brings his hesitant palms to pat the crown of your head still turned down, tangling his fingers in each strand to ruffle your hair.

it's totally not a way for him to memorize every detail of your being.

"let's, uh... turn our backs away from the past alright, (name)?" he says with an awkward lilt to his voice. you look up through your lashes, and find his pale face incredulously red while his eyes dart around the room. suddenly, you don't feel so trapped right now, and feel yourself giggling at his unsure words and stooping posture.

he panics and gulps, scratching the back of his neck. his eyes still refuse to stare straight at yours.

"— shit, sorry, 'm still not used to this comforting jig, but i'm serious about all this, about making it up to you while it's still early. so, uhm, i hope my friends aren't too... overwhelming for you. they're too excited, that's it."

it's finally at the end of his sentence that his eyes crinkle at the sight of you. you're still standing awkwardly, hesitant to open up yet still willing to make an effort if what he's saying is true.

there's still a shadow of doubt in your head, that this was all a dream, but everything feels so real. his touch feels so real.

it takes a split second for you to reply, still taking in the events that happened to you.

"it's... alright, maybe i'll learn to... forgive you, tim." your whisper sliced through the silent air, breathless, fiddling with your fingers, stepping closer to your brother. he hesitates, but brings his hands to rest on both sides of your shoulder.

his palms eventually made their way to hover on your face, you don't flinch, but you don't bring them closer to you either. it's an air of neutral comfort you're threading on.

"i'm... real grateful that you're willing to put up an effort for me..." it's as if you couldn't fathom that someone so talented, so important as tim drake could notice you and even apologize wholly without excuses. it doesn't take away the years, all the times he turned his back on you, and even mistakenly calling out the wrong name and flat out ignoring you, but if someone like him was willing to try— to even go as far as to have his friends become your friends.

well... who's to say you could deny the slight flutter in your chest at the sweet gestures?

it was you who initiated the hug, burying your head in his slumped shoulders, tears dampening his costume. your brother pats your back, and awkwardly cradles your body in the silent expanse of the room.

you don't feel the haste of his heartbeats, nor the goosebumps pervading his skin.

"thank you..." you mutter, relinquishing the fear that this was all a sick prank your mind has put you through, and embrace the sounds of the door suddenly slamming while your head still rests on the crook of your brother's neck, giggling through tears from bart's high-pitched squeals, the ghostly sounds of greta's overdramatic gasps and cassie's complaints of tim taking all your attention for himself.

from there on out, your presence kind of becomes a staple for the chaotic atmosphere of the team, a voice of reason whenever tim or cassie is too unhinged to deal with the others, they always kept their arguments light for the sake of your happiness. they like to treat you, finding your praises for each individual refreshing and sweet. you're unaware of just how much they truly loved you from the moment their eyes laid on the shadows of your form in the manor.

and you'd rather it stay that way, too invested in the never flitting feeling of being loved.

there's a saying, ignorance is bliss. you're in a state of happiness because this was the first time you had spent your time with someone you could call your brother. you had friends, welcoming from the start, unafraid to display their affection for you. hugs, cuddle piles, pats on your head, kisses on your cheeks, a target for kon's adorable flirting, bart's endless mumblings, even sitting beside your brother is enjoyable as he sifts through the big monitors in front of you, because at least now there's a hand you could fiddle with every time you become too bored.

how could you want to leave them after all this?

at least, in this timeline, you've willingly stepped into your own cage.

a/n: i'm this 🤏 close to disappearing off of tumblr for a year or two again because of my writer's block despite me posting more and more lately. the lack of motivation to write, and forcing yourself to write out the ideas you have in your head bec you're afraid of forgetting is such a shitty feeling. i'm on the verge of a hiatus, my imposter syndrome is at an all time high and i feel as if my writing has been lacking lately. so apologies, i might just quit if i can't get rid of this feeling. otherwise, i think we need more young justice (not the tv show) content, they're like my favorite hero team. i don't know what to feel about this drabble.

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kooggukk · 7 days ago

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𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 BEYOND THE JOB // JJK ; 2

daddy jungkook (literally)

; babysitting the cutest angel on earth is the perfect job. (except when her father is fucking hot and wants all of you)

+ comment to be added to the taglist

— 2/??

<< previous | next >>

“i told you i could just look after her for you.” the raven haired man said while doing nabi’s pigtails that she loves so much.

“you have your own job too, taehyung.” jungkook simply replied, “plus, you’re always near killing her when you’re left alone.”

taehyung scoffed, taking it by heart as he tied the final loop of nabi’s pigtails. “killing her? don’t be dramatic. she’s perfectly fine with me, right nabi?”

she giggled and taehyung picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder. the boring, quiet house was now filled with her sweet laughs. “hey! see now? put her— tae!” jungkook went to reach for his daughter, but the man ran away, nabi’s pigtails swinging and bouncing.

“you’re gonna drop her!”

“you know i won’t!”

“but anything could happen any second-“

taehyung stopped, playfully throwing nabi down on the soft mattress of the couch. “you ever have some fun, man? jesus..”

jungkook rolled his eyes at his words, “i can have fun too!”

“be for real, the last time you had fun was probably when you made nabi— ow!” taehyung laughed but instantly stopped when he felt a slap on his neck.

“watch your mouth?” he whispered, pointing to nabi. taehyung turned around and noticed how she was unbothered, being in her own little world playing with her princess dolls.

“calm down, the fuck. she ain’t even paying attention to us— i mean, you. right nabi?” taehyung asked the last part loudly with a huge grin, glancing at her.

he turned back with a smile to jungkook when she nodded, “see? i’m always in the center of her attention. she loves me, dude. you know that too!”

“of course i know she loves you, you’re like the second dad.”

“whoa, we ain’t gay—“ taehyung put his hands up in surrender.

“not like that!” jungkook smacked his neck again, “you’re her uncle, besides you and me, she got nobody else.”

“you ever thought of dating again?”

jungkook let out a sigh of frustration. “you at this again? i told you— at least a million times already that i don’t want to.”

taehyung shrugged and fixed the blanket next to nabi. “dunno, you could’ve changed your mind since then.”

“well, i haven’t.”

“okay, great to know. so, i guess i should cancel the blind date i planned?” taehyung asked with a raised brow.

“the hell, tae?!”

“jokin’..” he laughed but he quickly took his phone out, typing a message to someone. jungkook watched in disbelief, shaking his head as he checked the time.

“you should go, she could be here any moment now.”

“what? you won’t even let me meet the person who’s gonna spend all day with my precious angel?” he feigned hurt, pouting.

“you can, just another time.”

jungkook crossed his arms while taehyung kept his pout on with his puppy eyes, “no. that looks weird on you, grow up. stop it.”

he cursed at jungkook in a whisper, reaching his hand out to nabi. “nabi, come on. say goodbye to tata.”

she got up and walked to him, holding his hand. he bent down to plant a kiss on her hair, “am i the best?” he whispered to her. she smiled and nodded, “the best!”

“just go already,” jungkook scoffed and pushed taehyung. he opened the door but stopped, “what?” jungkook asked and looked to the door.

you stood there, about to press the bell. “oh,” jungkook rushed to the door and pushed taehyung aside.

he looked at jungkook and then back at you. “is this her?” he asked, unbothered if he sounded rude. jungkook gave him a look but nodded, already knowing what’s gonna happen next.

taehyung turned to you, looking you up and down. he hummed and that made something weird in your stomach, as if you were being looked down on.

“hey, i’m taehyung, single—“ he couldn’t finished as he got pushed out of the door. “bye tae!” jungkook said and stepped aside to let you in.

you glanced at taehyung and you saw him make a ‘call me’ sign with a smile before he turned his back to you, walking away.

“sorry about that,” jungkook embarrassedly apologized as you both got inside. “it’s alright. is he your friend?” you asked, taking off your coat.

he nodded and took the outerwear from you, neatly hanging it. you mumbled a thanks and you took off your shoes too, placing them nicely next to the wall. “yeah, he can be kind of annoying.”

you both settled down on the couch, and after jungkook got a glass of orange juice for you, it was now discussion time.

“so, i have a set of keys hanged next to the coats, those are yours. i wrote the names of the doors on the keys to not switch them up. gate, front door, basement. i also got a key for nabi’s room if it would be an emergency.”

he explained everything and you nodded, taking a sip. “she usually eats lunch around 2PM, the latest is 3. if you’re out and get back late, just wait till’ dinner.”

he leaned a little closer to make sure nabi doesn’t hear him, but it was useless because she wasn’t paying attention anyways. “i have chocolate ice cream in the bottom drawer of the freezer, if she’s having a huge— and i mean huge tantrum, give her a small cup and she’ll be nice again.”

you laughed and nodded, “does she have allergies?” you asked. he hummed and shook his head, leaning back to his original seat.

“no, nothing that i know of. she got it checked a few months ago and she can eat anything.”

“oh god— food. she’s hella picky.” jungkook sighed and glanced at her, then back at you.

“first of all, peppers. she doesn’t like the seeds inside, so i always cut them in thin lines to make sure none gets in there. same with grapes, oranges and tangerines. literally anything that has seeds, needs to be picked out. except tomatoes, thank god.”

“whoa, i never met someone who doesn’t eat the seeds.” you said, looking at her.

“she says because it’s soft food, and the seeds are hard. i dunno, i guess it’s.. nabi logic or something.” he waved his hand, leaving the topic.

“next, bread. always cut the bread crust off. it once poked her gums and she wouldn’t eat it since then.”

“i don’t like the crust either, so that’s not an issue.”

he looked at you weirdly, “the crust is the best part of a freshly baked bread.”

you shrugged, “i don’t like it.”

after a good 5 minutes long discussion about bread crust, jungkook lead you to a door. “and lastly, this is your room.”

you step inside, taking in the decor. it wasn’t much different from the other furnitures in the house, “it’s the guest room,” jungkook broke the silence.

you turned to him with a nod, “it’s really nice. thank you.”

“it used to be my office so there might be a few papers or folders in one of the drawers, just let me know if you find anything.”

“yeah, of course.”

“you can bring as many decorations as you want in here, i want you to feel the most comfortable. you can move in whenever, i won’t rush you.”

he saw the hesitation written on your face, and he panicked that he must have misunderstood the situation.

“or— you don’t have to move in obviously! i just thought you’d be with nabi from early hours to late afternoons, sometimes even nights therefor-“

he ranted, his eyes going everywhere in the room but your eyes, his hands in a fist next to his body. he was nervous, afraid he made a woman, — he made you uncomfortable.

“i understand, don’t worry. and i think i’ll just spend a few days a week. if that’s alright?”

“yeah!” his tone was more excited than he intended to be, he cleared his throat. “yeah that’s fine.”

you smiled at his clumsy behavior, your eyes looking around the room once again. “oh, i wanted to ask you something.” you turned to him.

“yeah?”

“the man, who was here before, does he come over a lot? i don’t want unexpected people to show up when i’m alone with nabi.”

“oh, taehyung. well yeah, a few days a week but he also has his own job, so don’t worry. and he knows i wouldn’t be here, so i doubt he’d come over.”

you nodded as he explained, walking out the room and heading to the living room, where nabi was still occupied.

“i could—“ jungkook started and he hurried in front of you, stopping you with his arms reached out. “i could write a list of names and their phone numbers about whom to trust and reach out to if i’m not available.”

“oh, that’d be helpful. thank you,” you smiled and jungkook got lost for a second, your lips looking wetter than they did a minute ago, shining beautifully.

“i have a very close friend of mine, her name is sasha.” you said and he got his attention back, looking at you dumbfounded as what you wanted to say.

“uh, like— if i ever go out with nabi, would it be a problem if sasha comes along with us?” your voice was uncertain, if he said no it would be damn embarrassing and awkward.

he hummed as he hesitated, scratching his head. “i mean i guess not? you said she’s your friend, so i believe she’s not a serial killer..” he joked, or half joked, maybe didn’t even joke about it but you laughed and his shoulders relaxed.

“no, she’s not. she was my co-worker, i can give you her number if an emergency were to happen.”

“sure, that’d be nice.”

┈ ⪩⪨ ┈

the first week of taking care of nabi wasn’t so horrible, better than you expected. she was really calm, sometimes too calm and quiet. you didn’t think much about it, telling yourself she gotta get used to you.

one day she was sweet like an angel, asking to play dolls with her, “__! play barbie with me!” she didn’t ask, she commanded you to play it with her.

so you did, you sat down on the floor across her, holding another blonde barbie doll. it was going fine, until she— or more like her ‘barbie’ talked bad about your doll.

“ew! your dress is so not cool!” her tone was high pitched, you gasped. “oh my! that’s not so nice of you, nabi.”

“i didn’t say that, it was her!” she held up her doll.

you got lost in your thoughts that day, afraid she might grow up thinking it was fine to judge others’ appearance. you know that she’s aware it’s just games, but what if she thinks it’s just as fine to do that in real life as with dolls?

then some other days, she just wouldn’t say one single word to you. she would mumble a few ‘thank you’s when you give her juice or make food, but she wouldn’t ask you to play with her, go out for a walk, watch a show. nothing.

when you would be the one suggesting to go outside, she’d shake her head. “everything okay, sweetheart?” you asked when you walked from the kitchen to her, holding a plate of cookies.

she didn’t look up at you but she gave you nod, “i brought cookies. chocolate, the one you like.” you put it down but she completely ignored it, continuing to draw.

you watched her in silence, maybe you were the one doing something wrong? maybe your cookies aren’t tasty? maybe you said something that she misunderstood?

all the bad possibilities flew to your mind, stressing you out. you sat down on the couch, zoning out but not completely. you saw nabi move from the corner of your eye, she walked up to you with two dolls.

“you wanna play?”

…

she just shrugged, giving you the same doll she did the other day, which made you remember what she had said.

it started fine, she said some stuff about horses and playgrounds, but then it happened again. she randomly changed the topic, saying your doll’s hair was ugly and it’d be better to buzz it off.

you put the doll down, “nabi, don’t be so mean. you know you can’t say stuff like that, right?”

“you can’t say someone’s dress is not cool or their hair isn’t as pretty as yours. you might think it’s okay because these are just dolls, but no. treat them like you would treat a friend.”

“i have no friends.”

your heart sank. you never asked about friends, assuming she had them. what a disgusting thing you did. assume.

you felt horrible, ashamed. “i’m sorry angel.” you placed your hand on her small back, and that’s when the door opened.

jungkook walked in, looking a bit like a mess but the tiredness left him as soon as nabi ran to him. he smiled but then frowned, hearing her sobs.

you widened your eyes, confused why she was crying now. you stood up and jungkook stared at you, picking up his daughter. “what’s wrong?”

he asked her, but she gave him no reply. he looked at you again for answers but you shook your head, no idea what was going on with her. “ya, it’s fine, stop crying.” he kicked off his shoes and carried her to her bedroom.

you waited, patiently sitting on the couch.

“she’s okay?” you asked when he got back, plopping down next to you.

“yeah, but she wouldn’t tell me what happened.”

you stayed silent, staring at the turned off tv in front of you.

“did you.. say something to her?” he asked, trying to sound as polite as possible.

you snapped your head towards him, “no, nothing bad that i know of.”

“what did you talk about?”

“we were playing with her dolls and she started talking bad about my doll, for the second time this week. so, i told her it’s not nice and she shouldn’t do that. she needs to be nice, not judge the dolls.”

he listened carefully, resting his head on his arm.

“i told her to treat them like she would treat a friend. i didn’t know she doesn’t have friends..”

jungkook sighed, “she must say those things because some girls used to be rude to her at daycare. that’s why i got you instead, i don’t want her to be raised in a place like that.”

“i’m so sorry i brought that topic up in front of her, i should’ve acted like a mature person and think before saying anything— god, i feel awful.”

“you don’t have to, you didn’t know.”

“but i assumed..”

“so? that’s just how the brain works, social life and friends are normal and common, we assume everyone has them.”

he saw how much this affected you too, he scooted a little closer and placed his big hand on your shoulder. “don’t feel bad. she’s fine, she will be fine.”

you groaned, throwing your head back. “i know..”

he chuckled, noticing how exhausted you looked by the end of the week. “was she fine tho? how was your week with her? i hope she’s not too.. horrible to you.”

you shook your head, giving him a look then closing your eyes. “she’s fine. a little quiet but that shouldn’t be a bad thing, right?”

“right. better than a child who runs around yelling all day.”

“oh i hope that day never comes. i wouldn’t survive that.” silence fell in the room after a round of small laughing.

“you had lunch?” he asked you out of the sudden, looking at the clock. almost 5PM.

“yeah, i cooked her some of those dino nugg—“

“no, i meant, you. did you have lunch?”

oh. how embarrassing..!

“no, i didn’t.” you sighed, sitting up straight.

“come on, then.” he stood up, walking to the kitchen. you frowned, “what?”

“let’s eat.”

“it’s late, almost dinner time.”

“then, let’s eat dinner. call it whatever you want.” he shrugged, taking off his hoodie which he threw on the armchair when he walked past it.

“i can eat at home, it’s fine.”

“__.”

wow, there was something in his tone, commanding, strict. he stood in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed, staring at you. he jerked his head towards the kitchen, signaling you to follow.

“please, eat with me. it’d be late when you get home, i don’t want you to cook at that hour. come on,”

his voice wasn’t aggressive nor loud, but yet it had a firmness, leaving no room for argument.

“also, it’s already getting dark. stay for tonight.”

taglist: @ahgasegotarmy116 @joonlover1207 @starlight-1010 @kingtinaa

#bts #bts jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x yn

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toournextadventure · 1 year ago

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when you love it

Summary: When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it - Caitlyn Siehl

Word Count: 6.3k Warnings: swearing, injury mention, suggestive themes, blood mention, hurt no comfort (hopeful ending), extreme guilt Pairing: Wenclair x Vampire!Reader (part 2)

“We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty on the charge of murder in the first degree.”

Your fangs caught on your lip as you did your best not to smile. With the slightest turn of your body, you patted your client on the shoulder and congratulated him for getting off on murder. He was guilty as sin. You could practically smell the tainted blood coursing through his veins. It was abysmal; he was a horror to work with. Doubtless he would be murdered before he even left the courthouse.

His money was still just as good as anyone else’s.

The judge continued his usual spiel, the one you personally had heard many times over. Something about understanding the severity of the charges, how one must persevere to become more, to prevent such a situation from occurring again. She was getting much more emotional about the speech, putting more of a motherly spin on it. It was a lovely touch.

It wouldn’t work. But it was lovely.

“Don’t get yourself in too much trouble,” you said once the judge was finished and you could shake your client’s hand.

His smile was sinister. “I’ll be calling on you again.”

You made sure to show your fangs in your own smile. “I’ll be expecting it.”

The man gave you the creeps, more so than most of the clients you represented. Which was precisely why you allowed your shadow to escort him out of the courthouse to the freedom he had unjustly earned. You watched as he left with a smile that betrayed your actual thoughts.

If he called again, your rates would double.

“You did your job masterfully.”

You turned around, watching people continue to mill out of the courtroom. No one was facing you, not even the usual suspects. Even your best friend Detective Faus had already left. There was no one left to talk or discuss the events of the case. A pity.

Maybe it had been another hallucination; they were more frequent this time of year. Sounds of blood spilling, pouring down your throat like the first drink at the bar. The door opening, muffled words, wood splintering. The sounds made themselves known in your mind, drowning out everything else around you.

“Looking for someone in particular?”

No. No, that was no hallucination. You looked down to see a young man no older than 20 - though his spectacular mustache looked a bit old for him - standing beside you. It was no wonder you hadn’t noticed him, he was rather short. With a stunning crop of slicked back raven black hair, he reminded you of someone. Someone you did your best to forget.

“Thank you, mister…,” your voice trailed off.

“Pubert Addams,” he said with a charming smile as he held out his hand toward you. “Lovely to make your acquaintance.”

A wet gasp-

-a snarl-

-relief-

-pain-

“-A pleasure, Mr. Addams,” you said, grasping his hand as gently as you possibly could. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long while.”

“I believe you knew my sister and her wife in college, did you not?” He asked as he let go of your hand.

A breathy moan-

-airy laughter-

-a warm sigh-

“-Quite a long time ago,” you said, “but yes.”

“Yes, I knew it was you,” he said with a smile that was far too familiar. Eerily so. “Are you free for a short while?” He asked. “I have a proposition for you.”

You sighed and shifted the weight to your good leg. It left an ache that rarely eased, though certainly not for lack of trying. Thanks to the glasses, you were confident your distrust was hidden. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust the young Addams boy; he seemed decent enough. You had worked with enough sleazy people to know who to trust and who to be wary of.

There was just the little problem of not wanting anything to do with an Addams.

Though, you supposed you could give the boy the benefit of the doubt. After all, what would it hurt? If he was anything like Wednesday - and it was beyond clear he was - he would love the danger. The thrill of propositioning you would far outweigh the danger of having you near. A brave boy.

Just like his older sister.

“I suppose I have time,” you finally said with a toothy grin. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Oh, I’m not old enough to drink,” he said quickly as he fell into step beside you. Exactly like his sister.

“A coffee then,” you amended.

He had no objections.

His hands were shoved into his pockets as he walked out of the courtroom with you. The stench of rancid blood filled your senses before you saw the commotion outside. Your client’s body lay sprawled along the steps, his blood flowing from the tips of his fingers; no one dared try to stop the bleeding. At the bottom, the police were shoving the victim’s brother into their cruiser.

“An eye for an eye turns the whole world blind,” Mr. Addams said with a shake of his head.

You didn’t dare hide your smile. “A beautiful sentiment.” You continued to walk past the scene, not looking back to see if Mr. Addams was following.

His footsteps quickened their pace to match yours before he stood beside you once again. It was a short, silent walk to the little cafe you had started to call your own. The barista was a wonderful young girl; she had easily fallen victim to the vampire charm you did your best not to throw around. Though you were a little less careful nowadays, but that was your little secret.

“What can I get for you, sugar?” The young waitress asked once you sat down. She, too, had fallen victim to your supernatural charm.

“A quad?” You asked once Mr. Addams sat across from you at the little table in the corner.

“Heavens no,” he said with his own charming smile, “I’ll take a mocha, thank you.”

“An espresso, darling,” you said with a smile at the waitress.

Her cheeks flushed. “I’ll have it for you in a moment.”

You tried not to mention your surprise at the young Addams going against what his older sister had made seem like tradition. Or perhaps she had changed over the years; it was a possibility she had come to enjoy the sweeter things in life. After all, Enid certainly did, so it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility. She always had been a lovestruck fool for Enid.

So were you.

You promptly ignored the thought.

“What is your proposition, Mr. Addams?” You asked as you continued to wait for your drinks.

“Ah, of course,” he said. He cleared his throat and sat up straight. “I would like to invite you to a soiree we happen to be hosting.”

“I’m nothing but a stranger to you,” you said simply. “What about me warrants an invitation?”

“My sister and her wife still talk of you,” he said. “Incessantly.” His smile was gentle; genuine. “I believe inviting you would make them happy.”

You didn’t grace that thought with a reply. If they still talked of you, that was their issue. Wednesday was certainly psychotic enough to desire your presence. Enid, also, could certainly be delusional enough. Seeing you again should bring them no sense of joy or peace; if anything, it should cause nightmares.

It didn’t matter that you often found yourself thinking of them in return. When you talked with clients who had a penchant for breaking the law, much like Wednesday. Committing their crimes guiltlessly for one reason or another. There was a difference in that Wednesday always had a good reason - even when you tried to make her believe she didn’t - but that could be easily overlooked when her cold brown eyes appeared in your mind.

And Enid was often seen in the young intern at your firm. Possessing a giddiness that was so often lost in people. Her colourful nails that you had been unable to forbid were like a flash of the past. The only difference was those nails were typing away at a computer instead of leaving scratches along your back. It was difficult, on occasion, to differentiate the two.

The waitress set the drinks on the table, giving you a wink and smile in the process. You smiled back, showcasing your fangs as she turned and walked back to the counter. If Mr. Addams hadn’t accompanied you, you would have flirted with the woman. Flashed a bit of cash, invited her home for a quick drink of your own before sending her back on her way.

You stirred your espresso for no good reason. At least it gave you time to think of your answer. Mr. Addams was gracious enough not to push. A wonderful change of pace from Wednesday, who would push until she regretted it. Which she had. Oh, she had, and you had all suffered for it.

There was no way you could tell Mr. Addams why you wanted to decline his invitation. If you even so much as hinted at the carnage you had caused, there was a high probability he would not only rescind his offer, but paint you as the monster you had already claimed for yourself. With good reason, of course, you hadn’t earned the title by sitting around.

On the other hand, just the mere thought of seeing Enid and Wednesday made your dead heart feel alive again. You had done your best to fill your nights with women. One after the other, never keeping them long enough to even learn their names. Each a new attempt to forget the two women who had taken your heart all those years ago. They never filled the hole; if anything, they made it bigger.

Perhaps…

“When is this little soiree of yours taking place?” You asked with a sigh, finally looking up from your espresso.

Now that smile was identical to his sister’s.

“I’ll fetch you the invitation.”

—---

You stood on the balcony of your apartment. Smoke curled around your fingers as the cigarette rested between them. The heat from the lit end was almost unbearable on your skin; it was a welcome feeling. City lights twinkled around you, creating constellations yet unnamed by the human race. Perhaps one day they would be prominent enough to fit in with the constellations of old.

It was the night before the soiree at the Addams residence. You had done your best to remain in control of your emotions the days leading up to it. Hell, you had even gone so far as to hire a few women just a few hours earlier to keep your thirst in check. You would rather receive a stake to the heart than risk another incident like the one that had created this situation in the first place.

And yet, even with all your preparations, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom that had carved a home into the center of your chest.

The balcony door slid open.

“You coming back, baby?” The woman asked.

It was a shame you didn’t remember her name.

“Come on, baby,” she said, and you felt warm arms wrap around your waist. “I know you want another drink.”

You did. God you did. Just the thought of another drink left your throat searing. You tried to swallow, but all it did was burn like liquid fire trickling down your throat. With a sigh, you lifted the cigarette back to your lips and inhaled. If you were going to be in pain, you may as well finish off your cigarette.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” you said with an exhale that left smoke falling from your lips.

The warmth left your waist as she went back inside, and you heard her talking to… the… other woman. God, you really needed to learn the names of the people you drank from. If anything, it was the least you could do; it was polite. But you didn’t particularly care. All you knew was they weren’t Enid, and they weren’t Wednesday.

You were pathetic.

You took one more drag of your cigarette, feeling the heat burn the skin on your knuckles. The thick smoke left the taste of ash on your tongue and did nothing to ease the scorching pain in your throat. You dropped the cigarette butt to the ground and stepped on it with your heel. You hissed when it singed your heel; you had forgotten you were barefoot.

If you had possessed any sort of soul, you would have felt guilt. There was something tugging on your invisible heart strings, begging you to care about the women you were surrounding yourself with. No, that wasn’t accurate. It wasn’t something tugging at your heart strings; it was two voices that had haunted you for years.

They single handedly ruined your night. With no shame and no clue that they had even done so, they had ruined it. The women around you weren’t the right women. Their skin was soft, but it wasn’t the same. Their freckles were in the wrong spots, and their nails and hair were the wrong colour. Each and every moan was the wrong tone, and these women just weren’t right.

It was a struggle, but by the time the night was over, you had more than gotten your fill. There was no possible way you would still be thirsty by the time you made it to the Addams residence. Though that didn’t stop you from grabbing a blood bag from the fridge and tucking it into your pocket before you left your apartment.

You stopped by the mirror in your hall to make sure you looked alright. It was custom made to not contain any silver, allowing you to see at least a semblance of your reflection. It wasn’t perfect, but it was like looking at someone through water. A little blurry, slightly distorted, but you could tell it was a person.

Your eyes were drawn to the dark scars that weren’t entirely hidden by your shirt collar. The majority of the scars were hidden, but not those. They were a stark contrast on your neck; a stark reminder of your monstrosity. Subconsciously, you lifted your hand to run your fingers over the taut flesh. They still ached.

Teeth ripping through flesh. You could hear the blood pumping from the wounds, pouring out over your hands as you tried desperately to stop the flow. Your own blood cascaded down your throat, erasing any satisfaction you had previously received.

You could still smell the blood. It made your mouth water.

You still wanted more.

You recoiled as if burned. Out of all the times you could have that memory, this wasn’t the optimal day. It didn’t require any consideration before you walked back to the fridge and grabbed a second bag, placing it right beside the first within your jacket. You had one shot; you weren't going to blow it.

It was a beautiful day outside as you approached the Addams mansion. The sky was overcast, almost allowing you to take your glasses off. Not that you would have, but it would have been a nice option to have. Large groups of people made their way up the steps and into the mansion. It truly was a stunning building; you had missed it.

You fell into the back of a group, ensuring you were silent and could walk in unnoticed. Yes, of course someone would notice eventually, but you wanted a chance to settle back into the excessively large house. The smell of the slightly-rotting wood was enough to ease your racing pulse. It smelled like home.

While everyone continued to slowly make their way into the ballroom, you went the opposite direction. Your hand trailed against the walls, maneuvering around each and every item that was hanging. The paintings and knick knacks and more recent looking photos. Some were new, or at least newer than you. They certainly hadn’t been hanging on the wall the last time you had visited.

The idle chatter of the crowd started to fade the further you went.The hallway turned into a slightly larger room filled with framed photos and awards. You let your fingers hover over the nameplates on the awards. Spelling Bee, First Place. A smile tugged at your lips as you moved on. Silver, Figure Skating. Down and down the line, you looked at award after award. There were names underneath, but you didn’t waste your time looking at them.

After the awards were the photos. You picked up the first one with gentle hands; a wedding photo deserved care. It was no surprise to see Wednesday in black and Enid in something so bright it was almost blinding. The image alone had your chest aching. They looked rather happy.

Their happiness didn’t distract you from the scars down the side of Enid’s face. The ones that traveled from the corner of her eyes to her jaw. Based on the colour in the photo, they were freshly healed. You couldn’t see Wednesday’s; she had a black lace wrapped around her wrist. From the look of Enid’s, you could imagine.

You set the frame back down on the table and stepped back. The curiosity had disappeared, quickly replaced with something heavy. With a tight chest, you backed out of the room and made your way to the ballroom with everyone else. The slight limp in your step worsened. A sigh fell from your lips as you had to lean against the wall and reach down to tighten the brace. Your jaw clenched almost painfully as the brace became insufferably tight around your leg, but at least it gave you the ability to stand on your own once again.

Until you were nearly knocked over by children running down the hall.

“Excuse me!” One of them called back. A chorus of the same words were quick to follow as the other children ran after the first.

“Behave!” You froze. “And don’t push people!”

“Yes ma’am!” The children shouted.

If you had known you would have such a visceral reaction just to her voice, you wouldn’t have accepted the invitation. You had no idea your body itself would react to her voice. If you could sweat, you would have been. Your fingers twitched. Don’t turn, your mind told you. Begged, even. Desperate, feral, pathetic.

“Cara mia.” You forced yourself to take a step. “You forgot your shawl upstairs.”

Don’t turn around, your mind said. It was frantic. You forced another step. And another. Each one heavier than the last, as if your body was fighting with your mind. You truly were a fool to accept the invitation, and there wasn’t even a word to describe yourself for actually daring to appear. Stupid. That was the best word.

“Are you a vampire?”

You sighed and took a moment to calm your emotions before looking down. One of the children that had been running around was now standing beside you, looking up at you with bright eyes and a cocked head. It reminded you of- no, you wouldn’t think of that. You turned to face the child and shifted your weight to rest on your good leg.

“I am,” you said with a singular nod of your head. “And you are?”

“Oh,” they said with a smile. A large, wolfish smile. “I’m an Addams.”

You were thankful they couldn’t see your eyes. “Charmed.”

Of course they were an Addams. How could you ever think differently? The Addamses were magnets for trouble, and you didn’t have to know the child to deduct that they were, in fact, trouble. You turned away from them and looked back out into the ballroom.

“My mothers have a picture of you on their nightstand,” the child continued.

You wished they would leave.

“But you have scars, and the person in their picture doesn’t.”

You would have no shame in killing a child.

“My momma has scars too.” It would be simple. “They almost match yours.”

“Don’t harass the guests, dear.”

Or perhaps you would simply kill yourself. It would certainly be less painful than whatever was about to happen. You could hear the echo of your dead heart beating loudly in your ears. Perhaps if you refused to turn around, she would continue walking. Walk right past you and into the crowd, leaving you behind as you so very much deserved.

But she didn’t continue walking as you desperately wished she would. She didn’t move out into the crowd, saying her greetings to the others as was customary. You could barely hear her footsteps at all above the incessant noise that you were wishing would get louder. Drown out all the thoughts and emotions bubbling up inside you.

“We weren’t sure you would come.”

You still refused to turn around. Even when you felt her sidle up next to you, her arm brushing lightly against yours. Oh, her warmth was glorious. You had forgotten just how lovely it was to feel her warming you up. To bring life to your soul in a way that only she was capable of. No amount of women in your bed had ever held a candle to her warmth.

“You look good.” Her voice was impossibly soft against the rising chaos of the soiree.

Growls and screaming echoed in your mind��s ear as you finally made the brave - or stupid - decision to turn your head. If you had thought your anxiety was bad before, you would have been impressed with your anxiety at that moment. The first thing your eyes took notice of were the healed, lightly coloured scars on her jaw.

The scars you had caused.

“You look healthy,” Enid said with a soft smile.

She looked so very grown. That childish glint in her eyes was still present, but she held herself with far more respect. The insecurity had long faded away, much like the scars that continued down her neck. The child was right; you almost matched.

“I fed before arriving,” you said. Your words felt like ash in your mouth. “No need for history to repeat itself.”

“We have more in the kitchen,” she said quickly. “If you need it.”

You opened your coat to show the two bags in the pocket. “I came prepared, thank you.”

She smiled a closed mouth smile and nodded before looking back out at the ballroom. That heavy feeling settled in your chest once again. After so many years, that was all you had to say to her? That you had fed already? Of course, that was probably the one thing she wanted to hear after so long. You were a fool. A damned fool.

“I hope the kids weren’t bothering you,” Enid said. “They get excited when we host gatherings.”

“They seem decent,” you said. Decent?? That’s the best you can come up with? “That one-” you pointed to the one with the bright eyes “-is rather talkative.”

Enid giggled, and for a moment, you felt young again. “Willa says she gets it from me.”

Willa. You could have laughed if it didn’t hurt so bad. Wednesday had always attempted to claim she hated it. Yet it never stopped the lightest blush on her cheeks when you or Enid would use the unassuming nickname. When was the last time you had even heard it?

Come on, Willa, put it down, I’m being serious.

You turned your body ever so slightly. You didn’t want Enid to see the scars creeping down your neck. Her hand brushed against yours. It was shameful how quickly you pulled your hand back, shoving it into your pocket. No good could come from her feeling the shake of your hand, or the scars that hid below the cloth of your clothes.

“Oh, there she is,” Enid said, this time reaching out to grab your arm a little harder than she probably meant to. “Stay right here, I’ll bring her over!”

The moment she left your side, the cold started to crawl back over your skin. It sunk into every vessel, every inch of your body, both inside and out. Attending the soiree was a mistake. A mistake that you couldn’t take back. Just like that night. Perhaps it wasn’t too late. You could leave before they came back and continue your miserable existence as you had been.

But then you saw them together, hand in hand. It was an unexpected thing to see Wednesday practically smiling at Enid. In public, that was. You couldn’t recall a single time she had smiled at anything in public. Yet there she was, walking closer and showing some semblance of physical affection in public. It was stunning. Your heart was almost beating.

Until your eyes landed on all the black lace that you knew covered scars no one could comprehend.

“I told you I saw them,” you heard Enid say as they both approached where you were frozen in place. “And I was right.”

Wednesday looked up at you with those stunning brown eyes. “So you were.”

Your fingers twitched in your pocket. Now that she was so close, you could smell her blood flowing through her veins. No matter how much you swallowed, you couldn’t ease the burn that was rising up your throat. You clenched your jaw tight, ignoring the sting of your fang piercing your lip.

Wednesday!

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? “Hello Wednesday, I’m sorry for nearly draining you while you attempted to prove I wasn’t a monster.” Or even to Enid. “I apologise for trying to kill you when you stopped me from killing our girlfriend.” There was nothing you could say, to either of them, to justify what you had done. What you couldn’t forget.

“I told them you had their picture,” the previous child said as they approached along with the rest of the herd.

For the first time, you were thankful for children.

“So you told our secrets?” Wednesday asked. “You know what happens to those who tell our secrets.”

The old Wednesday would have sounded more intimidating and borderline threatening. Yet, even as her words said one thing, the soft look on her face said another. The children all smiled and tried to hide their laughter as they continued to look up at her.

“You’d better run,” Enid whispered.

Each of the children shared a look before running off, laughter following in their wake. It was almost… cute? Adorable, even? God, you needed to escape this place, you were almost turning soft. You needed to get back to your murderers and criminals, this was turning pathetic.

“As intimidating as ever, my love,” Enid said as she leaned down and placed a soft chaste kiss on Wednesday’s cheek.

It made you sick. The burn in your throat spread, turning into a searing pain in your chest and stomach. All that was left was the tingling in your fingers and legs and you were finished. You wished the inferno would swallow you whole, reducing you to nothing more than ash and bone.

“You seem pale,” Wednesday said.

It seemed you wouldn’t combust soon enough.

“I only arrived out of courtesy,” you said as you stood taller. “Now that I have said my hellos, I must say my goodbyes.”

You tried to act like the looks on Enid’s and Wednesday’s faces didn’t kill you inside. It was like a silver stake to the heart, spreading its carnage down every muscle fiber and blood vessel. After all these years, you had managed to hurt them again within only a few moments. And you didn’t even possess the decency to apologise for the first sleight against them.

“Do you have to?” Enid asked. “You could stay.” Her eyes fell. “We could talk.”

“Did Enid tell you we have more blood in the fridge?” Wednesday asked.

She circled her fingers around her lace-covered wrist.

“I don’t do house calls,” you said. You could hear Wednesday’s pulse over the crowd. “Especially with those I cannot pay penance to.”

And yet, you didn’t make a single move. Against your better wishes, your feet stayed glued to the floor. Each beat of Wednesday’s heart was enough to have your mouth salivating, yet you couldn’t leave. A memory popped into your head of Enid almost seeming disappointed that her blood wasn’t appetising to you. It was a fond memory, one you replayed often enough for it to seem like a core memory of your relationship.

“You could stay,” Enid said.

“We can go somewhere quieter,” Wednesday continued.

You didn’t want to go somewhere quiet, you wanted to go home. You internally scoffed at the word; you didn’t live in a home. It was just a building, with four walls and a new blood bag or two every night. You barely lived in it, instead opting to spend all your time in your office where nothing could remind you of the two women standing in front of you.

They were your home.

“Please?” Enid asked softly. Almost too softly. Even with your enhanced hearing you could barely discern the words over the jazz band that had started playing.

You sighed. Would it truly hurt to spend a few moments with them? To give you some semblance of normalcy that only they could provide? After all, you could see the muscles underneath Enid’s skin. If you truly lost control, surely she could stop you. She had stopped you before.

The scars reminded you of it every day.

“Very well,” you said with a slight nod.

Enid was the one to reach out and grab your hand, pulling it out of its pocket and linking her fingers with yours. Her nails dug into the back of your hand, drawing out a sting that was a welcome distraction. The ache in your throat was ever present as Wednesday walked right beside you while Enid led you out of the ballroom.

The hustle and bustle of the ballroom slowly faded into oblivion as you were led down the corridors of the Addams mansion. You could recall memories from each room you passed. Each with their own story to tell. Stories of stolen kisses, scandalous rendezvous, silent moments with the women you loved, but together and separate.

When Enid stopped in the kitchen, you would have laughed had it been under any other circumstance. It was clear they had the same thoughts on their minds when Enid sat you down and Wednesday retrieved a blood bag from the fridge. She placed it between you and her when she sat opposite you at the table.

How comical.

They both stared at you with unwavering gazes. What was going through their minds, you wondered. Were they feeling the same way you had? Broken, anxious about fucking up, convinced you had blown your chance? Or perhaps they were waiting for you to break and recreate what had happened on that fated night all those years ago.

You sighed when you deduced they wouldn’t speak first.

“You both look well,” you said in a croaky voice that, if they were wise, was indicative of the state of your instincts. Think of something else to say. “Are all those children yours?”

Think of something less ridiculous.

“Yes they are,” Wednesday said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was almost condescending; you loved it.

“Pubert said you’re a lawyer?” Enid asked.

“Defence attorney,” you said with a nod, “yes.”

“Is it, ah, fun?” She asked.

You sighed. If the entire night was going to go along those lines - awkward and uncomfortable, tip toeing around every word - you would rather leave. Not a single positive thing could come from such a conversation. It was talking for talking sake. You all hated small talk, that was something that you knew had never changed, yet there you were, struggling to find any sort of conversation.

“It’s acceptable,” you said before placing both palms on the table. “I believe I really should be getting on.”

You attempted to push yourself up from the seat. Attempted being the key word. It wasn’t often your bad knee would buckle when standing; usually reserved for long nights in your office where you had barely managed to take bathroom breaks. Yet when you pushed yourself up, you felt the strain in your knee. It was a familiar feeling, that weakness before a painful tightness that so often forced you back into your seat.

And it did. Your grip on the table meant nothing as your knee shook for a nanosecond before giving out underneath you. Thankfully the gasp never actually left your lips. You could taste the copper in your mouth as you bit your tongue in an effort to stay silent. In the end, your entire leg trembled.

Enid and Wednesday stood up quickly, knocking their chairs back and watching your every move. You wished they would come to you; you were glad they didn’t. The looks on their faces was terrifying enough. Identical looks to the ones they had had that night.

“Wednesday, put it down,” you said when she refused to remove the knife from her hand.

“Your fears of being a monster are unwarranted,” she said as she gripped the blade tighter. “You wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

She had barely broken the skin before the scent hit you. It had been months since you had fed, and she had broken the floodgates. Everything about her disappeared except for the small drop of blood pooling at the bottom of her hand.

You didn’t feel yourself practically jumping toward her. You didn’t hear her gasp when you ripped the knife from her hand. You didn’t see the look on her face as you licked up the blood on her palm, or when you moved up her hand to bite the pulse point on her wrist.

But you tasted the nectar that flowed through her veins. You felt the strong pulse beneath your lips. You felt the scorching hot blood falling down your chin before you simply couldn’t keep up with the flow. Something vaguely pushed against your neck, but it was little more than a nuisance. All you knew was the blood in your mouth and the warmth on your lips.

Vaguely, you heard something. A scream, a growl, something breaking, you couldn’t tell the difference. It was nothing compared to the relief you were getting. How could you care about something in the outside world when you had such a delicious-

-something solid slammed into your body. The skin underneath your lips vanished, replaced by the cold air around you. When your body stopped rolling, you could feel the aches already starting to form. It didn’t matter. You zeroed in on Wednesday’s wrist again.

You were met with what felt like a truck slamming into your leg. Bones cracked, stretching the tendons and muscles with the new direction they were facing. It wouldn’t hold any weight when you tried to stand up. No matter; that was why you had two legs.

Something large and furry stepped in between you and Wednesday. Nothing about it was familiar in that moment. Instinct told you it was nothing but an obstacle in the way of your feed. It charged, and you swiped. Your fingers clipped something even as you felt its claws rake across your skin.

You tried to stand. Something sharp crossed your chest; the air was cold on your skin. When you stood up again, it was met with similar results. The third attempt got you closer to Wednesday. When something sharp clasped around your shoulder and threw you back to the ground, you stilled.

That hot blood you had gorged yourself on started to feel hot on your neck. Not in it, on it. You opened your mouth to speak and felt the liquid spew from your lips, falling down your face in all directions. Your hand lifted to the side of your neck. Your fingers pushed past the skin and then-exposed muscle.

As you pushed harder on the wounds, doing your best to staunch the flow of blood, the world started to come back to you. Blackness peeled back from your vision. The blurry world started to come into focus along with the sounds that you could finally discern as gasps and growls.

So did the pain.

You were drowning in the blood you had stolen. Your head lolled to the side even as you coughed again, spewing blood into the air like some demented fountain. A werewolf was across the room, hovering over Wednesday even as it transformed back into a person. Back into Enid. Her bare skin was shredded in places.

Wednesday was bleeding out from more than one bite mark.

You had attacked them. Both of them. The women you loved. They were bleeding out. Because of you.

You released the pressure from your neck and felt the blood continue to fall.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. Something wet fell down your cheeks.

“I know,” Wednesday answered just as softly. It was humiliating.

It was lovely.

“Please stay,” Enid said. You looked down to see her reach her hand across the table.

You shouldn’t. You had nearly killed them, had gone into a frenzy that you hadn’t experienced ever again. What if it happened again with them? After all those years, you still loved them. You would never admit to anyone, but you kept their photos on your desk at work. You couldn’t risk hurting them again. Couldn’t risk killing them. You were a monster, and that fact alone was never going to change.

They looked at you expectantly.

For when is a monster not a monster?

You reached forward and placed your hand on top of Enid’s.

Oh, when you love it.

#wenclair x reader #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair x reader #wednesday x enid

1K notes · View notes

scudslut · 10 months ago

Note

Ok hear me out. Reader and Daryl go on a run for supplies with a few other people. Reader makes a mistakes and almost gets seriously hurt/ near death experience. Daryl gets pissed at reader, maybe yells at her. Reader laughs it off and acts like she doesn’t gaf. Daryl later finds reader all shaken up and crying by herself. Love if you don’t, love if you do!

stay with me

daryl x fem!reader

wc: 2k

warnings: typical twd gore/violence, mentions of death, mentions of trauma/ptsd

a/n: absolutely love me some good fluffy angst, thank u nony❤️ i hope you like it:))

As much as you tried to prepare yourself for the inevitable situations runs would put you in, the blood-chilling reality of it never got any easier. No amount of mental prep could stove off the sounds and smell of the dead, nipping ravenously for a taste of your sweet living flesh.

Of course, over time you’d learned just to shut your brain off and fight. Fight as hard and tirelessly as you possibly could, but mistakes could still be made. Shit happened, whether it was your fault or not.

Hours earlier, a group of you went a few miles east of the prison; Daryl having spotted a little strip a few days prior, not too overrun that he thought might be loot-worthy.

It was a simple run really. Keep close, hit a few shops in and out, then head back home. That’s it. Follow the plan, get as much useful shit as possible, and get the fuck out of there. You guys had it down to a science at this point, runs becoming so second nature it was almost too easy to let your guard down nowadays.

“Hey D, I’m gonna go check the storage room back here. Might have something we could use,” you voiced to your partner a few isles down, still keeping your tone as low as you could.

“Gimme a sec, I'll come help ya,” you heard him say but you kept moving. You two had already cleared the main area, you could handle a walker or two if there actually was any behind the small door. You figured you would’ve heard something by now, some sort of banging or grumbling to announce their presence, but there was nothing, the coast presumably clear.

You should have waited.

Crossing the few miscellaneous isles you reached the back door, giving it a small rattle. Still complete silence, not even the faintest groan or shuffle. Knife at the ready, hand clamped over the cool metal handle, your heart rate picked up a notch as it always did before opening into the unknown.

“You got this, come on,” you muttered to yourself, before throwing the door open, bracing for attack. The door flew wide, only to reveal a dark, empty room. Squinting through the dimness, a few high, dusty shelves were visible, stocked with all sorts of canned goods. Fuck yea, that was certainly useful.

“D! Come look what I found!” you rasped, dropping your knife into its holster and shuffling in. You unslung your backpack from your shoulders, digging through it for a flashlight excitedly. It’s been so long since you’ve found this much canned food, surely enough to keep the group well stocked through most of the winter that was approaching. A loud creak from the left caught your attention as you sped forward. Hands finally finding purchase on the flashlight, you flicked it on, scanning across the room to the sound.

Dust caked the air, making the already dark room fuzzier and your eyes took a minute to adjust. You took a few smaller steps closer, peering wearily ahead and then you saw them.

Beady, soulless eyes staring back. A whole rickety staircase of them, heads turning one by one to the light source in your hand.

“Oh fuck.”

There had to be at least 10 of them that you could see, the top of the stairs pitch black and unrevealing.

Your feet stumbled backward, hands desperately reaching for the knife at your hip, dropping the flashlight in the process. It rolled and caught under your heels, knocking you on your ass as the corpses advanced, jaws snapping.

These were those moments. When you felt your heart in your throat, brain stuttering on action. Time moved so slowly that the fragments were almost visible and every thought screaming in your mind sounded like gibberish. You know you should move, is that what it was screaming?

The first one got to you, grabbing your leg trying to crawl up and finally, you were kicking, scrambling, grabbing onto the knife and slamming it into its skull with a loud squelch.

“Daryl!” you yelled. You needed him. Now.

3 more dropped before you, slinking towards you and you were trapped — the first corpse lying heavily over your midsection.

“Yea, yea girl. I heard ya,” you heard him respond, still sounding a few isles away.

No no no, this was not how you were gonna die. Not today. Please.

You kept stabbing, each kill taking everything out of you as you struggled against the body weight atop you. They just kept piling, you could hardly feel your legs anymore, the circulation surely cut off below your knees. And more were coming, a never-ending stream of hunger.

Another one landed before you and you had just enough time to catch its shoulders before it was inches away, snapping at your neck. Your arms burned, tears welling in your eyes as you realized this could be it. You didn’t know how much longer you had before they gave out and rotting teeth would be sinking into you, tearing you apart.

The walker kept snapping, so close you could see the layers of rotting flesh peeling from its face. You had been close to walkers before, had stared into the lifeless eyes too many times to count, but this was different. More were coming and the face in the reflection of its eyes was barely recognizable — terror painting every feature you’d known on you distorted.

The bones cracked in its left shoulder and it dislocated, dropping down to centimeters from your skin.

“No,” you sobbed quietly. Daryl wasn’t going to make it, you knew that. He was going to walk in and find his girl as dinner. You hoped he just booked it, and didn’t waste his time trying to save what would long be gone.

The walker fell limp in your arms and you flinched harshly, expecting excruciating pain to follow as it bit. But there was nothing.

“The fuck are ya doing! Get up!”

Daryl was suddenly right before you, ripping each body off your aching limbs and you were now acutely aware of the larger pile by the stairs, all with arrows and stab wounds littering their heads. When had he gotten in here?

You didn’t hear his words, adrenaline coursing so loudly through your system that all that could be heard was a loud, shrill ringing.

“Goddammit girl, wake the fuck up!” he shouted, grabbing you by the shoulders in an attempt to lift you. Your brain caught up then, as he harshly placed you on your feet. Walkers scattered the floor around you, and a grumble at the stairs announced it wasn’t the last of them.

Daryl reached down, grabbed your dropped items, and shoved them in your dumbstruck hands. “We’re gettin’ outta here, now,” he seethed, dragging you along and slamming the door behind you both, crossing the lines of isles quickly to the front entrance.

The fresh, afternoon air hit your nose in a gust and the last of the fuzz chipped itself from your senses slowly.

“Hope yer fuckin happy with yerself. Can’t ever listen to a goddamn word’a mine, can ya?” Daryl quipped beside you. His eyes were slits as they dug into you, so fuming you could see the heat radiating off his skin in the early autumn brisk.

He was angry at you, you knew that. But you also knew it was because he was scared. Hell, you were fucking terrified to stone back there, but if you wanted to calm him down at all, you knew you had to act unfazed.

Gathering any remaining wits about you, you took a deep inhale, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting them.”

He didn’t respond, wouldn’t even look at you anymore as he began to pace the graveled parking lot.

“Hey don’t stress Dar. I’m alive, we’re good,” you attempted to soothe further.

“Don’t stress? Yer a real piece a work, y’know that! Always fucking up everyone’s shit cause ya don’t wanna use yer brain, huh?”

Well, that did not go as you expected.

The rest of the group had started shuffling out of the other shops around you, making their way to the vehicles.

“Jeez, you need to lighten up,” you brushed past him, head high. You couldn’t let his words affect you, not with all the other emotions coursing as well. You didn’t understand what he meant. You had never put anyone other than yourself in danger, how could you possibly be fucking over everyone else?

You decided to wait in the car as the rest of the group went back for the cans, tag-teaming whatever walkers remained. The loot had decently filled both trunks and everyone was happy to call it a day and head back.

Your eyes followed Daryl as he jumped into your car, eyes trained on the windshield, “Ya alright at least?” he muttered glancing at you briefly while shifting the car into drive.

“I’m good, you big grump,” you huffed with a tight-lipped smile. “That much food will last us a long time. I believe a thank you is in order, don’t you think?”

You were not good. Not at all, but there was no reason to worry him anymore, putting him through enough today as it was. Your hands were shoved tightly under your thighs, so he couldn’t see the tremors racking through you.

You had smelt death so many times it didn’t bother you much anymore. Today you had smelt your own. Saw your life in that walker's eyes, mere seconds away from demolition. It was safe to say you were shaken to your core.

The journey back was silent, both not in the mood to chat for very different reasons, and the whole time you were trying to keep each breath of yours steady.

You helped unload as much as you could, before slipping away discreetly to your cell. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this, you felt kind of pathetic honestly. This was life now, it had been this way for a long time now, you shouldn’t be so shaken up as you were but the terror just wouldn’t leave your body.

Panic washed over you once again as your eyes hit your dim cell. Your mind was quickly slipping back into those last moments, the darkness and dust all too similar. The fear you had felt coating your veins icily and your breaths started to become agitated. There was nowhere else to go though. If you left the cell someone would see you.

Subconsciously, you backed yourself into the corner of the room, crumbling down to the floor with your head in your hands. Deep down you hoped your hyperventilating would knock you out. You didn’t want to think anymore — see it anymore. Tears were burning the back of your throat as you held down sobs, feeling the walker's hands and weight atop of you all again.

A small yelp escaped you when the hands became real. Pressure on your shoulders and waist and your head snapped up from its hiding spot, reflexes already prepared to fight whatever presence was with you.

“It’s jus’ me, hey, hey,” you heard through your panic, his blue eyes just recognizable through blurry tears. “S’okay, relax.”

You couldn’t calm down this time, vicious sobs finally breaking their way out of your frame. Running was your first thought; you didn’t want anyone to see you like this, Daryl or not. Emotions were never a strong suit of yours and would always find yourself dealing with them in private, away from sympathetic words and pitying eyes. But Daryl was never like that, he drew you in and held you tight, uttering no more words other than the ones to confirm it was him. If you asked him to say more, he would, but he knew this was what you needed. Someone to ground you back onto Earth and out of whatever images tormented your head.

So that’s what he did. Held you for hours as your body expelled all its terror and lingering adrenaline. He’d give quiet coos through each wave of shakes, grabbing a blanket to warm you through the cold sweats. And finally, once the fear faded to exhaustion, he scooped you up off the stiff concrete and into your soft cot.

“Stay with me?” you rasped, throat parched and raw from crying.

It wasn’t a second thought for him. He was never truly angry with you, and he knew you knew that. He needed you safe with him.

“Always.”

483 notes · View notes

dreamersworldduh · 23 days ago

Note

Hello! First of all I love all your stories ♥♥♥ Well, I wanted to make a request (if it's not bothering me) although I don't know if you write about Jon Kent, but well in this case. You could write a Jon x male reader story where the reader is a son of Trigon and like him he maintains control of his father like Raven.And Jon is like the reader's "anchor" that allows him to keep Trigon prisoner and then at some point Jon is hurt which causes the reader to lose control out of anger. Which makes him attack all his teammates and enemies and Jon controls him being the cinnamon roll that he is lol. That the reader and Jon have a relationship but keep it a secret, until that moment where Jon will not care about anything, only saving his boyfriend. I hope I have not bothered you, I apologize if so.

BOUND BY DARKNESS, ANCHORED BY LOVE

• JON KENT x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — Being the son of Trigon is an unimaginable burden. Trigon, a demon lord with immense power, casts a vast shadow that affects everything. Carrying his bloodline means not only inheriting his legacy but also becoming a vessel for his darkness. This struggle feels like a curse, with a constant battle within your soul. Every day is a challenge to maintain control against Trigon's tempting influence.

Jon Kent is your anchor, helping you stay grounded amidst chaos. He sees you for who you are and not just as a representation of Trigon's terror. Jon's unwavering faith in you shows you that your choices define you, not your lineage. His presence makes the internal war more manageable, providing hope that being Trigon's son doesn't have to dictate your life. With Jon, you're not just surviving; you're truly living, and for that, you are grateful.

WARNING! Suggestive Langauge. Violence.

WORDS! 5.8k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! It’s not bother to write! Thank you for so much for requesting, I hope you enjoy this ✨🫶🏽

Being the son of Trigon is a burden that defies comprehension. Trigon, a demon lord of unfathomable power and celestial tyranny, is a name that echoes across dimensions, conjuring fear and despair in all who hear it. To carry his bloodline is to inherit not just his infamy but the unrelenting darkness that defines his essence. It's more than a legacy; it's a curse, a war fought within the deepest recesses of your soul. Trigon's influence is not abstract or distant—it's alive, a seething force that courses through your veins, threatening to overwhelm you at every moment. Every breath, every thought, is a battle to resist the pull of that chaos, a desperate balancing act between light and shadow, humanity and monstrosity.

Your sister, Raven, bears her own connection to Trigon, but her mastery of discipline has allowed her to channel his power with precision and control. Through years of focus, meditation, and sacrifice, she has shaped herself into a weapon wielded by her will. You, however, are a different story. Your bond to Trigon is far more volatile, your powers raw, untamed, and ferociously destructive. Unlike Raven, whose strength is tempered by resolve, your abilities are a storm—wild and furious, a force that defies containment. You are not merely powerful; you are a cataclysm, a walking paradox of creation and destruction. Your struggle is not measured in quiet moments of focus but in primal, ferocious conflict. There is no margin for error in your existence. One lapse, one moment of surrender, and the devastation would be unimaginable.

The battlefield of your mind is no less treacherous. Trigon is always there, a shadowed presence at the edges of your thoughts, his voice a chilling whisper that weaves through your consciousness. He promises dominance, tempts you with visions of power, and mocks your efforts to resist him. The mental strain is relentless, a grinding weight that erodes your resolve. Some days, the effort feels unbearable, the temptation to let go—to embrace the storm within you—almost too strong to fight. But even in the darkest depths of despair, there is one constant, one anchor that keeps you from surrendering: Jon.

Jon is more than a partner; he is your lifeline. In the chaos of your existence, he is the calm at the center of the storm, the steady hand that keeps you tethered when the world feels like it's crumbling beneath you. Where others might flinch at the raw intensity of your power, Jon never falters. He doesn't fear you, doesn't shy away from the turbulence that rages within you. His presence is unwavering, his resolve a mirror to your own. He meets your tempest with quiet strength, his patience and understanding carving out a space of peace in a life otherwise defined by conflict.

As a comrade, Jon understands the weight you bear. He fights by your side, witnessing the devastating toll your powers take on both you and the world around you. He knows the stakes of the battles you face, the enormity of the threats you must repel. But as your lover, Jon's role transcends the battlefield. He is your sanctuary, the only place where you can lower your defenses, where the constant struggle fades and you can simply be. In his eyes, you are not a harbinger of destruction or Trigon's heir. You are just you. He sees past the chaos, past the shadows, to the person you strive to hold onto. His love reminds you of the humanity you fear you've lost, grounding you in a way nothing else can.

It is because of Jon that you find the strength to stand against your father's influence. In a life consumed by darkness, he is your light, a beacon that cuts through the oppressive shadows threatening to consume you. When the fight feels insurmountable, when the weight of your existence feels like it will crush you, Jon is the reason you keep going. His belief in you, steadfast and unshakable, inspires your own belief that you can win this war—not just for the world, but for yourself.

Without him, the battle would feel like an endless, futile struggle, a war against an adversary you could never hope to defeat. But with Jon at your side, the impossible feels within reach. The darkness remains, a looming and constant presence, but it no longer feels like an inevitability. With Jon, you remember why you fight. You remember what's worth saving—not just in the world you've sworn to protect, but in yourself.

Working alongside the Justice League is no ordinary job—it's a monumental responsibility, one that demands unyielding dedication, constant vigilance, and the ability to put the fate of the world above your own personal concerns. The stakes are always unimaginably high, and any lapse in focus could mean the difference between triumph and disaster. For you, this isn't just a duty—it's a standard you hold yourself to with unwavering commitment. That's why, when you and Jon decided to take the next step in your relationship, secrecy wasn't just an option; it was a necessity. It wasn't a decision made on a whim, but one born from a shared understanding of the pressures you face as heroes and as members of the League.

Balancing a relationship against the backdrop of constant battles, cosmic crises, and a world that never stops needing saving is already challenging. Adding the Justice League's watchful eyes into the mix would only complicate things further. You know your teammates well, and you can already predict their reactions if they were to find out about your relationship. Take Clark, for instance—Jon's father, the ever-principled Superman. He would approach the revelation with his trademark combination of earnestness and protectiveness, fumbling through advice about love and responsibility while trying to reconcile his paternal instincts with his respect for you as a peer. The thought of Clark, awkwardly yet sincerely attempting to deliver a "heart-to-heart" about dating his son, is enough to make you shudder—and laugh, if only privately.

Barry, of course, would be a whirlwind of jokes and teasing before anyone else could even process the news. He'd rattle off quips at lightning speed, leaving a trail of laughter—and mild annoyance—in his wake. Hal, never one to miss an opportunity to needle someone, would chime in with smug comments and suggestive grins, probably making a crack about office romances or "following in Superman's footsteps." And then there's Bruce—stoic, inscrutable Batman. He wouldn't say much—he rarely does—but the subtle lift of his eyebrow or that infuriating, knowing smirk would speak volumes. It's easy to imagine the two of you exchanging exasperated glances while Bruce stands silently, exuding his usual air of calculated disapproval.

The women of the League wouldn't make things any easier. Diana and Zatanna, for all their wisdom and camaraderie, would dive headfirst into your private life with relentless enthusiasm. Diana's curiosity, tempered by her warm-heartedness, would lead to endless questions about your connection, your dynamic, your plans for the future. Zatanna, meanwhile, would take a more playful approach, combining genuine interest with her penchant for mischief. You can already picture her crafting magical scenarios to "test your compatibility" while Diana plots some extravagant bonding activity meant to honor your relationship. Their intentions would be well-meaning, but the thought of being the center of their collective attention is exhausting.

But it's not just the teasing and prying that concerns you. What you and Jon share thrives in the quiet moments—the stolen seconds of connection in a life otherwise dictated by chaos. It's in the subtle, shared glances exchanged during tense missions, the fleeting but meaningful words spoken during a debrief, or the rare, precious nights when the weight of the world lifts just enough for you to be alone together. These moments are fragile, like treasures hidden in plain sight, and the thought of losing them to the relentless scrutiny of the League is unbearable. If your relationship were out in the open, those moments of intimacy would be harder to protect. The jokes, the questions, the interruptions—they'd chip away at the sanctuary you've built together.

Your need for privacy isn't about shame, or mistrust, or a lack of faith in your teammates. It's about preserving something rare and sacred in a life that so often demands sacrifice. As heroes, your existence is defined by duty and obligation, by the constant call to put others above yourselves. But your relationship with Jon is different. It's yours—something untouched by the demands of the world, something that brings light and meaning to the chaos around you. It's a reminder that beneath the masks and capes, you're still human, still capable of finding beauty and solace amidst the storm.

For now, the world sees you as comrades, warriors fighting for justice in an endless battle against darkness. To the League, you and Jon are allies, partners on the battlefield. But in the moments you steal for yourselves, behind closed doors and away from prying eyes, you're something infinitely more. You're each other's anchor, a refuge when the weight of heroism becomes too much to bear. What you share isn't just love—it's a lifeline, a reason to keep fighting, a bond that reminds you why the battle is worth it.

And that bond? That's worth every ounce of secrecy, every careful glance, every hidden touch. Because in a life dictated by duty, protecting the part of your world that feels most like home is the greatest act of heroism you've ever known.

Those moments with you are Jon's anchor—the rare, fragile pockets of tranquility that defy the relentless chaos of your lives as heroes. In a world where danger seems omnipresent and the weight of responsibility never lifts, those stolen interludes with you become his sanctuary. They are his reminder of what he's fighting for, of the strength and solace he's found in you. They're more than moments of reprieve; they're the essence of what keeps him grounded, what makes it all worthwhile.

Jon cherishes the way you both manage to carve out time for each other, no matter how demanding your lives become. It's not about grand, theatrical gestures or sweeping declarations; it's the simplicity of the connection you share that means the most to him. He treasures the quiet evenings spent recovering from grueling missions, where words are few, but the companionship between you speaks volumes. The two of you might share a meal in comfortable silence, exhaustion melting into a mutual sense of solace. Those moments of quiet, unspoken understanding remind him that, in a life full of noise and chaos, peace can still be found—if only in your presence.

One of his favorite memories is the time you both sat side by side on the Watchtower, gazing out at the Earth spinning below. Your shoulders had been close enough to touch, a faint warmth radiating between you that neither of you acknowledged but both of you felt. The enormity of the universe had seemed so small in that moment, dwarfed by the quiet bond you shared. No words were needed. The stillness, the weightlessness of the moment, was enough. Jon carries that memory with him, a reminder of the unshakable connection that transcends words.

It's the way you let your guard down with him, even if only for fleeting moments, that Jon holds closest to his heart. You, who bear the burden of unimaginable responsibility, allow yourself to be vulnerable with him in ways you never do with anyone else. He treasures the soft curve of your smile when you think no one is watching, the rare but melodic sound of your laughter that seems to make the air lighter, and the way your hand lingers just a moment longer in his. Those subtle, fleeting acts of intimacy—so small yet so profound—are the things Jon finds himself replaying in his mind during the toughest days. They are glimpses of a side of you that belongs to him alone, moments that feel like a gift amidst the turbulence of your shared existence.

The late-night conversations, though, are what Jon cherishes above all. Those are the times when the rest of the world falls away, leaving only the two of you in the stillness of the night. He loves the way your voice softens in those moments, unburdened by the weight of the day, and the way you share pieces of yourself that no one else gets to see. You talk about your fears, your dreams, and the quiet hopes you keep hidden from the world. In those moments, he feels as though he's seeing the most authentic version of you, unguarded and real. It's during these late-night talks, when your words are a quiet murmur in the dark, that Jon feels closer to you than he ever thought possible. Those whispered confessions, spoken in the safety of each other's presence, are more precious to him than any victory on the battlefield.

Even the smallest gestures from you linger in Jon's mind long after they pass. The way your fingers brush against his when you hand him something, leaving a fleeting spark of warmth. The way you murmur his name, soft and full of a quiet affection that sets his heart alight. The way you instinctively lean into him when you're close, as though his presence alone offers you a sense of peace. These moments may seem insignificant to others, but to Jon, they mean everything. They are proof of the bond you share, a bond that remains unshakable in the face of all the challenges you both endure.

For Jon, these moments are more than just fleeting respites from the chaos of your lives—they're everything. They're the foundation of what you've built together: a relationship rooted in trust, fortified by love, and sustained by the quiet, stolen moments you create for one another. In a life filled with battles, uncertainty, and the ever-present shadow of danger, those moments remind him of what he's fighting for. They give him strength, hope, and a reason to keep going, no matter how dark the world becomes.

With you, Jon has found more than just love. He's found a sense of belonging, a home in a world that often feels fractured and unforgiving. And in those rare, precious moments of peace, he knows he has found something extraordinary—something worth protecting at all costs.

The room is quiet, wrapped in a fragile cocoon of warmth and stillness—a rare sanctuary in your chaotic lives. The television hums softly in the background, its flickering light casting muted shadows across the walls. Whatever show is playing has long since been forgotten, its dialogue fading into white noise as you both savor the fleeting comfort of simply being together. You're curled against Jon, your back pressed to his chest, his strong arms draped around you in an embrace that feels at once protective and tender. His warmth seeps into you, a grounding presence in a world that so often feels unstable.

Your head rests against his collarbone, and his fingers trail lazily along your arm, tracing aimless patterns that send pleasant shivers through your skin. It's in moments like these that the weight of the world feels lighter, the relentless demands of heroism pushed to the periphery. Here, in the safety of his embrace, there are no battles to fight, no masks to wear, no shadows threatening to swallow you whole. It's just the two of you, a rare and precious quiet that you both cling to.

Jon's lips brush against the curve of your neck, feather-light at first, as if testing the waters. When you lean into him, a small gesture of encouragement, he doesn't hesitate. His kisses grow more deliberate, his lips pressing firmly against your skin, lingering with an intensity that sends heat coursing through you. One of his hands slips to your waist, his grip tightening as he pulls you closer, while the other moves to rest against your chest. The tenderness of his touch contrasts with the raw, magnetic pull of his lips on your neck, and you can feel the world outside this room slipping further away.

The TV becomes nothing more than a distant hum, the glow of the screen forgotten as your senses focus entirely on him. His breath is warm against your skin, and you tilt your head instinctively, offering him better access. He takes it, his teeth grazing your neck in a way that sends a shiver down your spine, followed by a gentle, soothing kiss that makes your heart race. His touch is electric, grounding you while simultaneously making you feel as though you're floating.

And then it happens—a faint, pulsing glow catches your attention from the corner of your eye. At first, you try to ignore it, unwilling to let anything intrude on this rare, precious moment. But as the glow intensifies, flickering like a heartbeat, a cold dread creeps into your chest. You glance down and see it: the pendant. Its cursed, crimson light spills into the room, its glow erratic and insistent, a dark reminder of the power tethered to your very existence.

The air shifts almost instantly. The warmth of the room is replaced by a chill that seeps into your bones, the moment of intimacy fractured by the suffocating presence of the darkness you can never quite escape. The pendant's light grows brighter, its ominous flicker casting long, jagged shadows across the walls. You can feel it, like a cold hand gripping your heart—the stirrings of Trigon's influence, clawing its way to the surface.

Jon notices the change immediately. His lips still against your neck, and his arms tighten around you, protective and grounding. "What is it?" he asks, his voice soft but edged with concern. His hands, once playful and tender, now hold you with a steady firmness, as though ready to catch you should the darkness drag you under.

You don't answer right away. Your gaze is locked on the pendant, its glow pulsing in time with the faint, malevolent presence stirring within you. It's not the first time this has happened, and you know exactly what it means. Trigon's essence—his shadow—is awakening, drawn to the vulnerability of the moment, eager to remind you that it's always there, lurking just beneath the surface.

Your chest tightens as you feel the beginnings of his presence creeping into your mind, a dark whisper that threatens to pull you under. It's like a tide rising, insidious and unstoppable, and you can already sense the fight it will take to push it back. Gritting your teeth, you focus on the warmth of Jon's embrace, willing yourself to resist. Not now. Not here. Not with him.

Jon's voice cuts through the haze, calm but firm. "Hey," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple. "I'm here. You're okay. We're okay."

His words anchor you, pulling you back from the edge. You take a shaky breath, focusing on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the solid warmth of his body against yours. Slowly, the glow of the pendant begins to fade, its pulsing light dimming until it's no more than a faint, ominous flicker. The air grows lighter, though the shadow of Trigon's influence still lingers, an ever-present reminder of the battle you can never truly escape.

Leaning back into Jon, you finally find your voice. "It's him," you whisper, your tone heavy with exhaustion. "Trigon... he's stirring."

Jon's hand moves to cover yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture of quiet strength. "Then we'll deal with it," he says resolutely, his voice steady despite the shadow of unease that hangs over you both. "Together."

Though the moment of peace has been stolen, the intimacy shattered by the relentless intrusion of the darkness you carry, Jon's unwavering presence remains. His arms around you, his voice grounding you, remind you that you're not alone in this fight. Closing your eyes, you let his words and his touch steady you as you prepare yourself for the battle ahead—the one within, and the one that will inevitably come.

Your bond forged is in love and trust but sometimes tested by the overwhelming fear of losing each other. That instinct is as natural as breathing, yet in the heat of battle, it often borders on overzealous. Neither of you can help it; keeping the other safe isn't just a priority—it's a necessity. That protectiveness was on full display during a recent mission with the Justice League, one that escalated into chaos faster than either of you could have anticipated.

It began with Felix Faust, the ever-ambitious sorcerer, whose reckless pursuit of power led him to tear open an unauthorized portal to a volatile magical dimension. This wasn't a minor disruption in the fabric of reality; it was a gaping wound, spewing malevolent creatures and destabilizing the surrounding area with chaotic energy. The portal's influence threatened to spiral out of control, drawing more and more destruction with every second it remained open. The Justice League was stretched thin, battling the endless onslaught of creatures that poured from the rift, but the real danger lay in the portal itself. If it wasn't sealed soon, it would consume everything in its path.

That's when Raven and Zatanna called out to you, their voices cutting through the chaos. They needed your help. Their combined magical prowess wasn't enough to close the tear, and they needed a third to stabilize the spell. You didn't hesitate for a second. You knew what was at stake, and your unique connection to magic made you the perfect choice to assist. But Jon's reaction was immediate, his protectiveness flaring to the surface as soon as he realized what stepping into the heart of the rift would mean for you.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice steady but tinged with unease as he placed a firm hand on your shoulder. His piercing blue eyes searched yours for any trace of doubt, his concern evident in the tightness of his jaw and the tension in his posture.

You nodded confidently, offering him what you hoped was a reassuring smile. "Raven and Zatanna need me," you said, your tone resolute. "This is the only way."

Jon didn't move, his hand lingering as though he could physically anchor you to him. "If anything happens—"

"Jon," you interrupted gently, your fingers brushing his. "I'll be fine. I promise."

You could see the war in his eyes, the conflict between trusting your abilities and the gnawing fear of letting you step into such danger. But eventually, he gave a reluctant nod, his hand dropping away as you turned toward Raven and Zatanna. You could still feel the weight of his gaze as you moved toward the swirling chaos of the portal, the air around it charged with unstable magic.

The closer you got to the tear, the heavier the atmosphere became. The energy radiating from the portal was oppressive, a chaotic blend of light and shadow that threatened to pull everything into its maw. Raven and Zatanna were already in position, their voices a steady rhythm of incantations as they worked to contain the rift. You joined them without hesitation, summoning your own power to weave into theirs. Together, the three of you created a fragile balance, a barrier against the portal's expansion.

Jon was supposed to be focusing on the battle, helping the League fend off the endless creatures that poured from the rift. But his focus kept drifting back to you. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to be at your side, to shield you from the unpredictable surges of magical energy that flared around you. He trusted you—he trusted your strength and your skill—but that didn't silence the fear gnawing at the edges of his mind. Between every punch, every blast of heat vision, his eyes flicked toward you, his heart racing each time the energy from the portal crackled too close.

Your protectiveness wasn't any less fierce. Even as you concentrated on the delicate spellwork, your gaze darted to Jon whenever you had a spare second. Watching him fight the monstrous creatures that spilled out of the rift filled you with equal parts pride and anxiety. He was a force of nature, his movements precise and powerful, but every time a creature lunged at him, your breath caught in your throat. You gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to focus. The portal had to be closed, or none of you would make it out alive.

The strain of the spell began to take its toll, the three of you struggling to keep the chaotic energy in check. Sweat beaded on your forehead, and your arms trembled under the weight of the magic you were channeling. Through it all, you felt Jon's presence in the periphery, his protective instincts a constant undercurrent even when he was meters away. It was as if the bond between you transcended the battlefield, his silent promise to watch over you steadying your resolve.

Just when the portal's energy flared dangerously, a creature broke past the League's defenses, hurtling toward Raven and Zatanna. You acted without thinking, summoning a burst of raw magic to intercept the creature before it could disrupt the spell. The backlash from your magic sent a wave of energy rippling outward, momentarily destabilizing the rift..

Everything seemed to be under control—until Felix Faust turned his dark magic directly on you, Raven, and Zatanna.

You felt the shift before you saw it, the air growing oppressive, thick with malevolent energy that seemed to coil and writhe like a living thing. Faust's magic lashed out in a torrent of chaotic force, black tendrils streaking through the air, aimed directly at the three of you. The onslaught was relentless, designed to shatter your concentration and disrupt the delicate balance required to seal the portal.

Without hesitation, you raised a shimmering barrier of protective light around Raven and Zatanna. The shield absorbed the brunt of Faust's attack, but the force of it reverberated through your entire body like a series of thunderclaps. You gritted your teeth, pushing back against the overwhelming energy, even as you felt the strain begin to sap your strength.

"Keep working!" you shouted, your voice sharp and resolute, cutting through the chaos. Raven and Zatanna exchanged a quick glance before nodding, their chants never faltering as they refocused on stabilizing the rift.

The barrier held, but barely. Each impact sent cracks spiderwebbing through its surface, the shimmering light flickering under the pressure. Faust's dark magic was relentless, a tempest of hatred and destruction, and it demanded everything you had just to keep it at bay. You knew it was a gamble; diverting your focus from the portal to defend against Faust's assault was dangerous, but letting his magic reach Raven and Zatanna was not an option.

Across the battlefield, Jon noticed the sudden shift in energy. His sharp eyes found you instantly, his expression darkening with concern as he saw the way your barrier strained under the force of Faust's attacks. He was locked in combat with the monstrous creatures pouring from the portal, but his focus kept drifting back to you. Each glance fueled his urgency, his strikes growing faster, harder, as he fought to clear a path to your side.

But before Jon could reach you, a streak of malevolent energy shot across the battlefield, slamming into him with unrelenting force. The blast knocked him off his feet, and he hit the ground hard, a sharp, agonizing cry tearing from his throat.

The sound sliced through you like a blade, wrenching your attention away from Faust. Your eyes snapped to Jon, and the sight of him sprawled on the ground, his body wracked with pain, shattered something inside you. Your grip on the barrier faltered, and for a moment, everything went still.

Then the rage came.

It erupted from the deepest recesses of your soul, raw and uncontrollable, a tidal wave of fury that surged past the barriers you'd spent a lifetime building. The infernal power of Trigon, always lurking beneath the surface, seized its opportunity. You felt it surge through your veins, molten and all-consuming, igniting every nerve in your body.

Your skin flushed an unnatural red, glowing with an ominous, fiery light as veins of molten energy spread across your body. Your eyes multiplied, each one blazing with otherworldly intensity. The pendant around your neck, the cursed vessel of your father's power, pulsed violently, its crimson glow flooding the battlefield with eerie light.

The transformation unleashed a fiery manifestation of your rage—a phoenix of living flame that exploded into existence around you. Its wings unfurled, scorching the ground beneath them as it let out a piercing, unearthly screech. The battlefield seemed to shrink in its presence, all eyes drawn to the inferno rising from within you.

Felix Faust faltered, his confidence evaporating as he stared at the infernal spectacle before him. You turned your blazing gaze on him, your voice low and guttural, laced with barely restrained wrath. "You'll regret that."

The phoenix surged forward, its flames consuming everything in its path. Faust's spells disintegrated in the heat, his defenses crumbling as he scrambled to retaliate. But it was no use. You overwhelmed him with a fury he couldn't match, and within moments, he was on his knees, powerless and terrified.

But the victory brought no relief. The flames didn't wane; instead, they surged outward, unchecked and all-consuming. They devoured everything in their path, their relentless hunger fed by the raw fury coursing through you and the insidious whisper of Trigon's influence. His voice curled through your mind like smoke, a low, serpentine hiss that twisted your anger into something darker, more destructive.

Why hold back? This power is yours. Let it consume them. Let it consume everything.

Your heart pounded as the lines between yourself and Trigon blurred, the boundary of your own will and his malevolence fracturing under the weight of your unleashed rage. The fiery phoenix that had erupted from you seemed to grow larger, more feral, its flames casting an unholy glow across the battlefield. It screeched, its cry a harbinger of ruin, as it lashed out indiscriminately.

Raven was the first to step forward, her expression steady but her movements cautious. Her voice, calm but urgent, cut through the chaos. "This isn't you. You have to stop."

For a moment, her words seemed distant, muffled beneath the deafening roar of the flames and the insidious pull of your father's power. The rational part of you—the part that still clung to who you were—tried to grasp her voice, but the intoxicating pull of destruction drowned it out.

The Justice League wasn't far behind. They moved in unison, encircling you with precision, their intent clear: containment. Batman's voice rang out, sharp and commanding, a tone meant to cut through any chaos. "Stand down!"

But you didn't hear him. Or rather, you didn't care. The phoenix-form responded instinctively to their approach, its flames flaring brighter, hotter, as it lashed out at anyone who dared come close. Superman and Wonder Woman led the charge, their combined strength barely enough to withstand the inferno. The League's efforts, coordinated and powerful, were falling short against the primal, unrelenting fury of Trigon's unleashed influence.

Somewhere in the chaos, a glimmer of who you were fought back, screaming to regain control. But the voice of your father was louder, more persistent, more persuasive.

They fear you. They want to cage you. Show them what you are capable of.

Then, through the cacophony of destruction, a single voice reached you.

"Stop!"

It was Jon. His voice rang clear, cutting through the haze of rage and fire like a beacon. Despite his injuries, he pushed himself upright, staggering but resolute. His steps were slow, deliberate, as he moved toward you, ignoring the searing heat of the flames and the warning shouts of his teammates. His eyes, unwavering and focused, locked onto yours.

"It's me," he said, his voice firm but gentle, steady in a way that only he could manage. "Look at me."

Something in his tone, in his presence, sliced through the chaos gripping your mind. For a fleeting moment, the flames flickered, and the roar of the phoenix softened. His gaze held you, filled not with fear or judgment, but with something deeper—love, trust, and unshakable belief in you.

"You're stronger than this," he continued, his steps carrying him closer despite the heat and the danger. "You're not him. You're you. Come back to me."

The phoenix screeched again, a sound of defiance, but its flames faltered. Jon's words, like an anchor, pulled you back from the brink. You could feel the weight of Trigon's influence loosening, the suffocating grip of his power receding as you fought to reclaim control.

Slowly, painfully, you wrestled with the fury, with the darkness. Your skin began to return to its natural hue, the molten glow fading with each passing second. The extra eyes that had marked Trigon's influence vanished, and the phoenix, once feral and consuming, began to dissipate, its flames flickering into embers. The pendant around your neck, the cursed vessel of his power, dimmed to a faint, ominous thrum.

Your legs gave out beneath you, exhaustion and the weight of what you'd done crashing down all at once. But Jon was there, his arms steady and sure as he caught you. He sank to the ground with you, holding you close as the ash settled and the battlefield fell silent. His voice, a quiet murmur in your ear, was the only sound.

"I've got you," he said softly, his arms wrapping around you like a shield. "You're okay. I'm here."

The League stood down, their wary gazes softening as they saw you collapse into Jon's embrace. Raven approached cautiously, kneeling beside you. Her eyes, filled with both relief and understanding, met yours. "You fought it," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "You won."

But you didn't feel victorious. The memory of the flames, of the destruction you had almost unleashed on your allies, lingered like a shadow in your mind. The fear of how close you had come to losing yourself clung to you, heavy and unshakable.

Yet when you looked at Jon, his face etched with concern and his eyes still unwavering in their faith, you found a flicker of hope. His presence reminded you of what you were fighting for—why you had to keep fighting.

As long as he was by your side, you knew you'd always have a reason to resist the darkness. And with him, you could believe that you were more than Trigon's heir. You were you. And that was enough.

#dc x male reader #x male reader #dc #jonathan kent x male!reader #jon kent #jon kent x male reader #trigon #raven #superboy

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ozai-the-bonsai · 10 months ago

Text

Cry for the Moon

Pairing: Zuko x firebender!reader

Warnings: none

A/N: I did end up writing more, thus we get to see our fav boy Zuko in the upcoming chapter - but I quite enjoyed writing this one and digging deeper into the internal struggles of the reader! I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I did writing it ^.^

Taglist: @annonymatic @yoongiesstar @lost-inthe-v0id @lokigodofmyheart @4l3x1s @potato87123 @asciendo @angelruinz @unamused-boss @junieshohoho @yourlivewire @itszzmoon @coolgirl458 @vyliie

Mai’s raven hair was, just as you had last seen her, partly in two small buns and the rest fell on her shoulders. The dark, sleeveless jacket seemed to be a new one but other than that, her maroon clothing and black, fingerless gloves were the same as always.

As soon as your amber eyes found the slim figure of Mai, an uneasy feeling appeared in your stomach. Even the mere sight of her made you uncomfortable for every time you laid your eyes on her, the fact that you were never going to get your former best friend back hit you like a wall of bricks.

Even after Zuko’s banishment, or after you got together with Shuzi, the raven-haired girl insisted on keeping her distance from you. Not that you would easily forgive her, of course, but you found her stubbornness childish from time to time.

[Flashback]

You found Mai sitting on her swing at the backyard of her parents’ house, moving back and forth ever so slowly. The dull expression on her face became duller, as if it was possible in the first place. You felt the heaviness on your heart growing.

“Mai, I know there is something bothering you.” You said as you approached her carefully, you were afraid she would run away just like a cat. “Please, talk to me.”

Mai shook her head. “No, I don’t want to.” She said, it was obvious that she was trying to hide the sorrow away, but she was so heartbroken that made it almost impossible. “I cannot stand looking at you anymore!”

You felt tears rushing to your eyes, but you quickly sent them back. “Why? What have I done to you?” You asked as you sat next to her on the swing. “Mai, you are my best friend. I don’t want to lose you.”

“It just hurts too much,” she muttered while kicking the stones on the ground. “Seeing you and him together all the time.”

She was talking about Zuko.

“Mai, I…” Honestly, you didn’t know what to say. You were aware of Mai’s obvious crush on Zuko for years, but everyone knew that it was decided long, long ago that you were going to be his future wife. “You know that our parents have decided that when we were just babies.”

Suddenly, Mai stood up from the swing with a furious aura surrounding her. “I love him, okay? I should be the one with him! You… You are just acting that way because of this stupid arranged marriage!”

For the first time in your thirteen years of life, you heard Mai screaming.

You swallowed for a few times to destroy the lump in your throat, you were on the verge of breaking down. “What makes you believe that I don’t love him?” You asked with a low voice, trying to keep your emotions under control.

Mai let out a scornful laughter. “Ah, please. Zuko - he is a fool for you, but you are simply with him for the sake of duty and power. It is obvious.”

Slowly, you felt sorrow turning into fury as you stood up from the swing. “You are wrong.” You said with a cold tone. “I do love him. And if you had been really my best friend, you would have known that. You would have seen that.” As you shook your head, you turned back to leave Mai all alone. “As it turns out, you were only acting to be my friend. Out of duty.”

[Flashback ends]

Mai didn’t even look at you as she put her hands together and bowed slightly towards Azula. “Please tell me you are here to kill me.” She spoke with her usual, dull, emotionless tone. Then, she looked up at Azula with a slight smile on her lips.

Azula placed her hands on Mai’s shoulders as she giggled. “It is great to see you, Mai.”

Ty Lee rushed forwards to give Mai a big hug, ignoring the fact that Mai was not a fan of hugs. The gloomy girl gave Ty Lee an uncomfortable pat on the back. “I thought you ran off and joined the circus.” Mai said as she stepped back from the hug. “You said it was your calling.”

“Well, Azula called a little louder.” Ty Lee said, hiding the sarcasm in her tone skilfully, only you knew what she really meant by that. Once again, you found yourself feeling sorry for the poor girl – she only wanted to follow her passion.

Slowly, Mai turned her head to meet your amber eyes. “Hey,” she said with a small nod, her voice lacked even the tiniest bit of emotion.

You, too, had put on your resting bitch face. “Hey.”

Azula rolled her eyes in an exaggerated way. “Oh, come on! It has been three damn years.” The Princess turned her gaze to Mai, pointing at you with her right index finger. “She has been dating someone else for the last six month and none of you have seen my fool of a brother in over three years!” Azula took a deep breath to try and calm herself down. “Just leave that childish drama behind you already!”

Well, I kind of saw him a few days ago … which caused weird feelings and thoughts to arise …

Before you or Mai could say anything, Ty Lee spoke. “Well, technically, the arranged marriage is still on – as long as Zuko comes back with the Avatar, right?”

You let out a scornful laughter. “Ah, please, as if he stands any chance now that we are on the hunt as well.”

Azula looked at you with a smirk on her lips. “That’s my girl.” You winked at the Princess, who turned her gaze to Mai once again. “I have a mission and I need you all.” She said as she laid her right hand on your shoulder, her eyes wandering between all three of you.

“Count me in.” Mai spoke with an annoyed expression on her face. “Anything to get me out of this place.”

[Time Skip]

You shielded your amber eyes from the sun as you approached the three figures standing on the other side of the road. Two of them, who were standing on the sides, were wearing blue clothing that resembled those from the Watertribes.

The boy on the left was holding a baby, probably Mai’s brother, and had his hair in a stylish ponytail. To the right stood the girl with hair loopies and a water bag. The boy in the middle was, unlike the other two, in yellow-orange clothing with an orange hat-like piece on his head. You raised an eyebrow to yourself upon seeing that he was carrying a staff.

As she was the one responsible to carry out the trade, Mai stood forth and the rest of you waited behind her. Meanwhile, a crane was lowering the metal cage that held King Bumi of Omashu as hostage.

Quickly, you eyed Azula up – you were sure she had another motive behind this trade. A baby for a king, eh? I don’t believe this is something Azula would approve of.

“You brought my brother?” Mai asked. The boy with the staff nodded as he pointed to his left, showing the baby.

“He is here.” The boy said. “We are ready to trade.”

Just as you expected, Azula interrupted. You couldn’t help but smirk. “I am sorry, but a thought just occurred to me.” Azula spoke so naturally, it was impossible to point it out as perfect acting if one didn’t know Azula good enough. “Do you mind?”

Mai turned to Azula. “Of course not, Princess Azula.”

For a moment, it seemed as if Azula was weighing down some options. “We are trading a two-year-old for a king,” she said at the end as she looked up at the King of Omashu with an arched brow. “A powerful, earthbending king?”

The King himself nodded.

Azula’s eyes wandered between you, Ty Lee and Mai. “It just doesn’t seem like a fair trade, does it?”

You kept your chuckling to a minimum to avoid being heard, you had known that exactly this was going to happen. Knowing Azula good enough, it was to await that she would have an ulterior motive in taking the matters in Omashu – or rather New Ozai as the Princess had recently renamed the city – in her own hands.

It was Mai’s call now, she had to decide between family and duty.

“You are right,” Mai said with a voice that lacked even the slightest bit of emotion, even towards her own little brother. Well, one could clearly see that her brother was – at least for now – in good hands since the boy in blue clothing did his best to keep the baby safe and comfortable.

She probably wants to carry out Azula’s part of the plan first.

“The deal’s off!” Mai announced and held up her hand, gesturing the guards to pull the King back up.

However, no one – and especially you – wasn’t expecting the boy in the middle with yellow clothing to start using his glider to fly behind the King. Without even thinking about it, you reacted the same way as Azula and you both sent flames in his direction to block his path. The boy dodged the flames by leaping high into the air.

Did he just… Airbend?

As the boy used his glider with airbending, he lost his hat, leaving his arrow tattoo exposed. You and Azula gasped at the same time. “The Avatar!” You both said simultaneously.

A smug smile formed on Azula’s lips. “My lucky day,” she muttered more to herself, then she called out your name. “Follow me!”

[Time Skip]

The attempt to capture the Avatar in Omashu had, unfortunately, been unsuccessful – but it was something to expect considering that none of you were prepared to face the Last Airbender and a King that could earthbend simply with his face.

As the royal palanquin was being carried out the city; you, Mai and Ty Lee walked besides. You felt yourself sailing from one thought to another, dangerously close to getting lost in the vast ocean that is your mind. Chasing the Avatar made you realise something: you had never thought about how it would make you feel while helping Azula capture the world’s last hope.

You had complicated feelings and thoughts considering the war, the Fire Lord and the Avatar. It was for a fact that you despised Fire Lord Ozai after everything he had done to Zuko and Azula, you held him directly responsible for Azula’s corruption.

Of course, there had been a big Ursa factor as well, but that was a whole different topic.

Even though you were loyal to your nation until the very end, you didn’t really want to see Fire Lord Ozai becoming the supreme ruler over the Four Nations. He was a horrible man, he lacked even the slightest bit of empathy and compassion. A man who was incapable of loving his own children should be, under no circumstances, given such great power over all of humanity and its destiny.

But then, there was Azula.

You had mastered the skill of detaching your emotions from your actions when it came to her, which enabled you to carry out tasks which would otherwise burden you when awake, asleep and even dead. Your loyalty, compassion, and love towards Azula was stronger than everything you had known – well, except for the love you had felt for Zuko, but that was long gone.

You knew you needed more time to reflect upon this dissonance you were experiencing but you believed that standing with Azula was more valuable than anything you could think of at that moment. All these years, you had put in so much effort, time, and tenderness into your relationship with her – even the mere thought of doing the slightest thing to shake her trust brought you on the verge of a break down.

“So, we are tracking down your brother and Uncle, huh?” Mai asked, which caused you to come back to the present moment. You shook yourself.

Ty Lee giggled. “It will be interesting seeing Zuko again,” she spoke teasingly, “won’t it, Mai?”

At first, you kind of waited Ty Lee to divert the same question to you and correct herself but quickly, you remembered that you had been together with Shuzi for over half a year. Whether you would see Zuko again or not didn’t really matter anymore, despite the arranged marriage still not being called off.

“It is not just Zuko and Iroh anymore,” Azula spoke with a serious tone. “We have a third target now. The Avatar.”

You felt knots in your stomach.

As you headed towards the ship to spend the night and plan the rest of your mission, Azula explained Mai and Ty Lee why she decided to leave the royal guards and the navy ship behind. The main problem was to find a means of transportation that was fast, could go over any kinds of terrain without having the need to find a road and was strong enough to overcome any bending.

“What about using a tank train?” You suggested, earning an intrigued look from Azula, who was still sitting in the royal palanquin. “I am sure the army can spare one of them for the Princess’ mission.”

Azula made an approving sound. “That is actually brilliant,” she muttered, more to herself. “They are designed to travel at high speeds over most terrain without the use of tracks, but they can still accommodate many people – we can take some servants with us to run the errands.”

Ty Lee seemed a little bit uncomfortable. “I don’t want to be stuck in a metal machine for days – I need sunlight!” She was playing anxiously with her braid.

“I wouldn’t mind not having to see the sun for a while,” Mai muttered, not much to your surprise. “I don’t like the way it disturbs my eyes.”

“You would rather live in a black hole for the rest of your life.” Ty Lee rolled her eyes at Mai, causing her to shoot an angry glance. You bit the inside of your cheek not to laugh – Ty Lee was more than right in her statement. If you gave Mai a bucket of never-ending black paint and a brush that could be extended as much as one needed, she wouldn’t rest until she painted the whole sky black – setting aside the fact that such a thing is impossible to carry out.

The Princess heaved a sigh. “You can jump onto the roof to do your sunbathing, Ty Lee, as long as the insects flying at your face do not disturb you.” Ty Lee grimaced upon hearing Azula’s words. “And Mai, you are free to lock yourself up in a dungeon, as long as you are there to fight whenever I need you to.”

This time, you couldn’t hold back your laugh. Azula raised an eyebrow as she looked at you, whereas Mai and Ty Lee carried annoyed expressions.

“Do you also have a specific request?” Azula asked you. “And no, you are not allowed to bring your dog to our mission.”

You rolled your eyes at her. “For the last time, Azula, he is not a dog – I am not putting anyone on a leash.” Upon hearing Mai mutter something under her breath, you shot her a warning look and turned back to Azula. “And no, I am completely fine, as long as you leave those two sisters back on the ship.”

It was no secret that you despised Lo and Li, your hatred towards the sisters seemed to both amuse and entertain Azula every time. The Princess let out a small laughter.

[Time Skip]

The whole ship was asleep as you sat on the front porch, watching the night sky while the cool wind played with your hair, which wasn’t in the top not anymore. It was cool outside; you shivered and wrapped your arms tighter around your body – the red gown wasn’t thick enough to keep you warm. Heaving a sigh, you used your breath of fire to get rid of the shivering.

Ever since you had agreed to help Azula on her mission, you found yourself carrying out inner battles more often than usual. They used to be, when Zuko’s banishment was just new, the only thing you had known for a long while; however, after accepting the hard truth, you thought the battles would be finally over.

And they were, for the last two years, you didn’t have to deal with any internal conflict.

Until the thoughts about the Banished Prince and your distant past crept out from the dusty corners of your mind. You thought you had forgot him long ago – everything about him had to be burnt to ashes. As it seems, this had never been the case, the realisation of which was hitting you just now.

There was no compassion for him left in you, this was the truth; however, your past feelings for Zuko were still enough to confuse you, to distract you. It was like a sweet poison: the embrace of those distant memories felt oh so sweet and familiar – it felt just like home – but when you realised that they were in fact chocking you, drowning you – it would be too late.

I should have never let my mind wander off to those forbidden territories of my own memory. You thought to yourself as you breathed out crimson flames, the gentle touch of the wind was making you shiver once again. I cannot allow myself to get distracted. Not now.

Maybe… Maybe I should just face him.

That particular thought seemed to strike interest and excitement within you. Ever since the Banished Prince abandoned you on the deck when he left the Fire Nation, you secretly had been craving to face him and scream at him, tell him all those wicked things you wished he had heard from you.

Tell him how he broke your heart to a million pieces, burnt all your love to ashes and threw them out into the vast ocean.

And thank him for letting you turn into this thing that could disconnect her emotions from her actions simply by taking a deep breath and thinking about the strong bond she shared with his sister.

“You keep lecturing me about getting enough sleep and yet here you are – not sleeping.”

You chuckled as you turned left to look at Azula, who was standing next to you. She, too, was in a red robe, but hers was adorned in gold around the collar and the sleeves. She had let her dark hair down, which looked absolutely pretty either way.

“Do as I say and not as I do, Princess.” You responded, gaining an eyeroll from her. Slowly, you stood up. “I have trouble sleeping.”

Azula nodded, she also seemed thoughtful. “I understand.” She paused for a moment. “You were thinking about my brother, weren’t you?”

You didn’t see any point in lying – Azula knew you good enough to tell when you were hiding something, just like you could do it with her. “He started messing with my head, again.” You spoke with a low tone, avoiding Azula’s amber eyes as you looked at the dark waters ahead of you.

The Princess laid her hand on your shoulder with a soft manner. “I can understand why his presence would confuse you,” the warmth in her tone caused you to meet her gaze. “But I need you in her best form and mind – distractions are not something we can allow at this moment.”

It was quite rare but sometimes, when it was just the two of you, Azula would let her shields and icy walls down. Every time when such a time came, you couldn’t help but adore how much she trusted you – you doubted that even her own family knew this side of Azula.

You nodded with a small smile on your lips. “I am very well aware of that, and I do not intend to disappoint you, Azula.”

The hints of a smile could also be seen on Azula’s lips as well. “You have given me no reason to think you would disappoint me.”

“I really appreciate your words, sweetheart.” Your amber eyes lit up with happiness. “For the matter of your brother, I think I have found a solution – I am going to put an end to these distractions.”

“Exactly what I was hoping to hear,” Azula said as the edge of her lips curled upwards. Then, she gave your shoulder a small squeeze. “Come on now, we both need our beauty sleep – or you are going to end up having eye rings, remember?”

You grimaced as you followed Azula into the ship. “Nobody wants that.”

#prince zuko #atla zuko #zuko x reader #the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #princess azula #zuko #zuko x oc

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rxreid · 1 month ago

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opinions on the friends to lovers trope w bellamy blake💘

i think its like the perfect trope for him icl, aside from maybe enemies to lovers but enemies would last a few days maximum (if you were part of the 100), and then he'd probably befriend his partner (to be) after everyone realises the mutual enemies are the grounders blah blah blah...

in short, i love this trope, and personally i think bellamy would take years to confess to his friend. its so easy with meaningless hookups, or people he doesn't have a strong connection with, but he's a mess when it comes to his feelings for his best friend, and he'd stubbornly push back any lingering thoughts he gets around them.

if you want a lil bit of a deeper dive, more headcanons under the cut!

obviously bellamy is very protective of his friends, they're practically his family, but he'd probably start to notice a different feeling fluttering in his stomach when it came to the safety of that one person.

it would start out on hunts - at first he's pairing you with people he's sure you'll be safe around, until he doesn't feel comfortable with you hunting with anyone other than him. he's enough to protect you - he's your friend and he owes you that duty.

you'd tell him pairing up the two best hunters isn't a smart idea in the greater logic, and he'd respond with a remark about someone else in another pair actually being better than you, and he thinks the teams are perfectly even!

of course, he knows that's a lie. he also knows it would be smarter to pair you off with someone less skilled for teaching purposes - but why would he do that when he's the only one who values your company so much?

those hunts are the highlight of his days, he's sure of it. in amongst all of the bloodshed, the stress of leadership, the death, he knows he's always getting those few hours of downtime with you.

he opens up a little on those hunts, but he catches himself when he thinks he's oversharing, until you press him further and he just never shuts up again.

yapper. but only around this one friend! they're just a friend! (direct quote from bellamy to octavia, no debating.)

you'd probably accidentally hurt yourself on a hunt, tripping over a rock or something stupid, and he lectures you the entire way camp about the importance of sticking by his side. only when out in the forest, of course.

he'd realise his feelings are steering further and further away from friendship when you get caught up in mount weather as part of the 48, and all he can think about is you.

his companion, his confidant, the one person who now knows him almost as well as his sister does, in such a short amount of time, is gone, and he's waring with himself over the circumstance. he needs to get you back.

he's worrying about the others, sure, clarke...and jasper...and whoever else is in there. they're his people, but who is he without his person?

all is well and he gets you back, at a cost, but at least he has you. as much as part of him wants to confess, right then and there as he holds you and tells you he's got you, that you're safe in his arms, he doesn't.

bellamy blake is not one for feelings, no, absolutely not. he has meaningless hookups, and he treats the girls in camp like a merry-go-round. he's definitely not about to venture into the world of relationships. he doesn't want that...right?

OF COURSE HE WANTS IT HES JUST STUPID

anyway i don't wanna sit here and rewrite the entire plot BUT

i think he would take forever to say something, and obviously YOU aren't saying anything - probably oblivious as hell to his inner turmoil...(i would be too).

one thing leads to another, and you'd end up as part of the group on the ring in space, because bellamy would probably rather die than go without you. literally.

clarke makes you leave her behind, and you'd race back to the group, where bellamy is losing his shit trying to make sure raven stays on the ground long enough for you and clarke to get back.

when he sees you, he'd feel everything falling back into place, and he's silently thanking whoever's in control of fate that he doesn't have to spend five years without the comfort of your presence. he doesn't think he'd survive without at least you or his sister.

he'd reach for your hand as you buckle in, disguising it as a gesture of reassurance for your anxiety, but the way he'd squeeze just twice and keep his gentle gaze firmly on you as you ascend into space betrays that.

but you're still just friends, of course. duh!

i think it would literally take 5 out of the 6 years up there for him to even entertain saying something. he convinces himself that you see him as nothing more than a friend. you're affectionate and talkative with all of your friends...he's not special.

it's not like you'd both spent the last five years sitting in front of the large windows at god knows what time, staring out at the earth and sharing your fantasies of a life down there again.

he talks of having a family, a big dog - maybe - if any are left. he doesn't tell you how you plague his visions of a future. he shouldn't. he'd think it's too late now, anyway. you've been best friends too long. he can't ruin that.

until he can't take it anymore.

and only because murphy got annoyed and called him a coward or something for being stuck with you for years and still doing nothing.

thank you murphy!

he doesn't ever want to prove murphy right, so now he's ready to spill!

he probably doesn't even spill lets be real he probably just stares at you and then kisses you idk

but lord does he kiss you. he goes until he physically can't breathe anymore, and even then he only takes a split second to inhale and glance over your face before he's leaning back in, claiming your mouth with his own.

because now, and forever, he's yours. he knows he always has been, he knows he never would have been able to settle into life with anyone who wasn't you.

anyway the part of the friends to lovers trope when they actually become lovers always stumps me...........sorry the build up is too fun

but FINALLY! after a total of like...6-7 years of yearning, he did it. he got it!

and y'know, there's not much to do in space - but there is definitely a bed.

sorry last few hcs are a lil rushed but i really never know what to say when they actually become lovers...so anticlimactic...

#blake.txt * ˚ ✦#bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fluff #fanfic #the 100

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cemeteryspider · 10 months ago

Note

Hi! Ok I’m here with my request I was wondering if I can request Rex dating a fem!reader who’s like raven from dc? Like powers and all that and Rex is just so in love with her 😔(May it please be like dating hc’s? Please and thank you🫶🫶🫶)

Rex-Splode Dating Headcanons

Rex-Splode! Rex Sloan x Raven! Reader

Trigger Warnings: Nightmares

Word Count: 925

You met Rex during Guardians of the Globe tryouts. You had also seen him get his ass beat by Monster Girl. Luckily, after this incident, he was less of a douche overall.

However, things changed once the Guardians started to become a team. He would try his best to be around you whenever he could. You would be running on the treadmill, and then all of a sudden he was running next to you. You could be making a sandwich, and he would be making his right next to you. Or you would sit and read your book, and he would scroll on his phone near you, occasionally glancing up at you when he thought you didn't notice. You did.

Then one day when you were pummeling a punching bag, he asked if you would like to get coffee sometime. You knew he had feelings for you, and you felt in your bones you should say yes.

A date to an art gallery and one dinner later, you and Rex made it official and told the team, who seemed shocked. Either you were exceptionally good at hiding your relationship, or they just couldn't believe you would date Rex.

~~~

You love your personal space, Rex also loves your personal space. The two of you could be walking down the street, it would have to be hand-in-hand, or maybe his hand would be in your back pocket. This annoyed you to no end at first but quickly you understood the constant wanting to be close to you was because he wanted to protect you. You would never admit it, but you loved him.

His favorite time to be in your personal space is during a fight. He would bottle the feeling of you guys standing back to back using your powers to protect each other. When you crushed invading aliens who wanted to kill him, he never felt safer. You made him feel safe.

Simply, he loves to make you laugh and smile. Even though you keep a straight face and hard demeanor around other people, you are a totally different person than when you were with Rex. Somehow his silly sarcastic personality leaked through into yours, and he could make you giggle without even trying.

He loves to see you train with the other Guardians, especially Invincible. Being from a demonic bloodline, you could go toe-to-toe with the Viltrumite, without too much damage, and more often than not you would best the newer hero. After all, you could practically tear Mark apart with the darkness you controlled if you wanted to.

Of course, he hated when he had to fight you. Not because he was scared he would hurt you, no, he was scared you would hurt him. Even going easy on him, you would beat Rex easily. Teleporting away from any explosives he threw your way, and wrapping smokey black tendrils of darkness around him or, as gently as possible, throwing him into a wall with your telekinesis.

You would always apologize profusely after taking him down, but he would always reassure you that he loved you and your powers. Maybe you would even explore using your powers in more intimate places in the future.

~~~

However, once in a battle with Machine Head and his goons, you start to be overwhelmed with the other's pain. When Rex saw you fall to your knees all he could see was red. You held your head in your hands and started to feel yourself lose control.

Your eyes glazed over black, and you screamed. At this point, Rex had just taken out Machine Head and started running over to you as objects all around you started to float and shake. Kneeling next to you, he took your hands in his.

"Hey, babe, come back to me, everything is going to be okay. You just need to come back," Everyone who wasn't passed out on the ground looked at the tense scene in front of them.

They all knew what could happen if you truly lost control of yourself. You had once leveled a skyscraper only to rebuild it moments later.

Still, some part of you listened to Rex and allowed yourself to come back to wherever in your mind you retreated to. You allowed yourself a vulnerable moment, letting yourself slump into Rex's arms. He held you tight until the medics arrived, and still held your hand when you were carried away on a stretcher, even though you promised you could walk.

~~~

Rex could never let anything bad happen to his girl. You were his everything and the only person he would let his sarcastic walls down for. You appreciated the black roses, and eventually black dahlias he would get you after telling him it was your favorite flower.

He would bandage your wounds after a battle, once you took care of him because you always insisted on patching him up first. Kiss your bruises whenever he sees them. He would put his arms around you when he saw your eyes unfocus and zone out, and bring you back to reality.

He would tell you he loved you at every chance he got and showed you off every time he got the chance.

"Look at this picture of my girlfriend, she's so hot"

"Did you see her fight? She's just so amazing"

"Ah she just makes me feel, so differently than I ever have before"

He practically drooled every time you walked by him. He loves the way you look. Anything you wear he wants to rip off of you and start to kiss every part of you. It could be your skin-tight leotard and cape, your casual sweater and jeans look, or your silly Rex-Splode pajamas he got you as a joke.

(The pajamas do something to him idk)

~~~

Rex has always helped you with the nightmares that plague you when you sleep. When Rex lost his hand in the fight against the Lizard League, you still regret not being there, you helped him through his nightmares. Soothing his mind and, with his permission, lulled him back to sleep with your powers. He knew that subconsciously you were calming him down to the best of your ability, and he knew why he always slept better when you were around.

You treated Rex like more than he ever saw himself as, and he didn’t treat you like the monster you felt you were. You each healed something inside the other, and if that’s not love then you don’t know what is.

#rex splode x reader #rex sloan x reader #rex x reader #rex sloan #invincible series #invincible amazon #invincible #invincible animated series #mark grayson #invincible fanfic

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bokettochild · 1 year ago

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Thank to rub salt in the wounds, Twi.

Not only your timeline was perfectly FINE, not only the hero before you isn't DEAD but he left you a sword in a perfect condition.

Twilight didn't have to fight, as a child, to survive in a cruel world. The hero before him did'n't fail, he didn't leave the sword in a horrible condition.

I wonder if Legend has guessed that the hero before Twi was Time, seen Twi's smile. (it's kinda obvious seen how close they are)

Did he guessed that Time was the hero before him too? And he chooses to stay silence to not hurt anyone? Time has never been the hero of time in his timeline after all and is probably died as a child.

But outch Legend's face....it's a mix between "Yep you are a lucky boy" and "if only you knew about the hero before me or maybe "thank to remember me how much a tragic mess my timeline is"

Because Legend is too nice and patient to say "how nice for you, the hero before me died against Ganon, his sword was in a horrible condition with still his blood on her, so much that i have had to reforge her myself! As a CHILD."

No Legend is too nice to take his bitterness on Twilight who did nothing wrong and didn't know. He'll shallow it and says nothing about the sword's condition in his timeline.

I think that's a big part of who Legend is actually! He comes off as really bitter and cold, at least as far as Twilight is concerned, and I wish there was more focus on that interplay.

Twilight met Legend and, based off of a few limited interactions, mentally labeled him as a bully and a jerk and thus treats him accordingly. Not without reason of course, he's drawing mental parallels to actual bullies and Legend is unintentionally checking the boxes, but I think it's sort of sad that until this point, Twilight has still not bothered to get to know Legend at all beyond his initial observations .

But the fact remains that Legend IS from a world that was in shambles, a world where everyone is a threat, if not to everyone else than at least to him. Legend is a prey animal trapped amongst predators with little to no guidance. The cards of fate are stacked against him as far as his world is concerned, and while the goddesses may have granted him additional blessings and favor to make up for that, his world is still magically a mess, physically a mess, and just generally a mess.

The vet has no legacy of proud heroes to look back on. The First Hero died. The Hero of the Four Sword is a raging lunatic who tries to murder children and is sealed beneath the castle. The Hero of Time died in combat. This is the legacy he gets to follow in. Legend doesn't have the hope of becoming like those before, he has the fear of meeting a similar fate because life is never kind to heroes.

Legend's world was left in shambles, and he's had to be the one to help rebuild it, only to watch it get torn down again and again as enemies undo all his hard work. But on a more personal note, Legend has tried again and again to establish himself in the world just to have all the people he loves hurt or harmed on his account.

His Uncle died, and even though he was brought back, he disappears from the timeline shortly after, leaving a kid hero alone in the world. Legend's grandparents have high expectations and aren't the best at listening when he says that their wishes make him unhappy or uncomfortable, and instead push him to follow them anyway, only to themselves disappear from his life once the Oracle adventures are over. Din, Ralph, Raven, Nayru, Moosh, Ricky, Dmitri, all these are people Ledge befriended and was close to and had to say goodbye to again for one reason or another.

Marin.

Legend is always losing the people he loves most, watching his work get thrown in his face and receiving little to no thanks for his work. He's still actively treated like a nuisance and a threat by some people in his kingdom and no doubt there are others who simply don't believe him.

The whole world is against him, and yet the only thing it's done is made him defensive. Ledge isn't cold or cruel, you can see that he actively cares for and worries about the other heroes, he's just guarded more than they are about it. Still, in times of high emotion the walls fall and he's his true self: that kid who's got a heart too big for his own good and is going to get it broken again.

And Legend knows this. Legend actively knows that Twilight isn't fond of him, and that the other heroes regard him as an ass, but rather than correct them, stand up for himself, provide even one of the thousands of reasons he has to guard and defend his heart like he does, he just lets them have their peace because what good would it do to tell them about the losses he's suffered? The world he grew up in? The legacy he has to bear? The terrible fate he no doubt expects to one day meet? What good would it do to make them love him if that will just make their inevitable parting all the harder?

It's hard to lose those you love, but it's easier if you convince yourself they never actually loved you, so you're better off.

So yeah, Twilight is over here unintentionally rubbing salt in the vet's many wounds, but Legend keeps his mouth shut because it does no good to speak up, and in the long run, at least as far as he thinks, it's better to let it be.

I kinda hope Twilight will come to understand the vet better though, and maybe get a peek at what has hardened up the younger hero enough that he comes across the way he does. I'm pretty sure his whole outlook would change if he did, and his respect for the vet would definitely increase.

#lu twilight #lu legend #character analysis #linked universe analysis #asks and answers #linked universe #linkeduniverse

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droopycoquette · 2 years ago

Text

Hole-In-One || Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You go on a golfing trip with Caitlin.

Warnings: established relationship, fluff, c*nn*r(thats a warning in itself)

Word Count: .8k

|*|

You turned the page of your book as the wind fluttered the pages, in the background, you could hear your girlfriend’s golf club hitting another ball, then silence like clockwork. You’ve been doing this for the past hour and a half. You loved being here though, even if you didn’t know what the point of golf was, just watching your girlfriend show off her athletic prowess was enough to make you happy.

You glanced up from your book to check what was going on and saw your girlfriend squatting down on the green, you took in her backside and how the fabric on her shorts fought to hold it. You felt a gentle tug on your lips before quickly averting your gaze back down to your book.

“Babe,” your head shot back up. “We’re ready to move on.”

You hopped up from your spot in the shade and ran over to your 6-foot, raven-haired giant.

“Are you winning,” you asked cluelessly as you bounced around her.

“I guess, we’re not really competing though,” she giggled as you found your place beside her, carrying her water bottle.

“Hey, have you ever played golf,” Connor asked jogging up to you both.

You almost forgot he was there.

“No,” you smiled, hiding an internal eye roll. “My family was too broke for golf. Besides, it’s boring.”

You whispered that last part to yourself as you continued to walk with Caitlin, telling her about your book and skipping around the green. Eventually, you decided on scaring the geese that were waddling around laughing as the waddling quickened you got closer.

Caitlin caught Connor looking at her with a ‘seriously’ type look on his face.

“What,” Caitlin chuckled. “She’s bored, she’s gotta find something to keep her busy.”

Caitlin watched you sneak up on a group of unsuspecting pigeons next and she paused to take out her phone.

You began to run towards the birds, laughing as they flew away.

“Linnie did you see me,” you giggled, sprinting back to her when you were done.

“Yeah babe, I did,” she laughed. “I even got a video.”

“Dude, you need to get out of the way now. We’re about to start up again,” Connor informed you.

“Oh,” you pouted. “Okay, I’ll just go over there.”

You pointed over to some shade, stumbling over your feet slightly as you began to walk over to the spot. You looked down as you walked, taking note of your Converse, the whites of your shoes now colored green making you frown. With your attention on your shoes, you didn’t notice the hand snaking around your waist until Caitlin pulled you into her.

“You’re adorable you know that,” Caitlin muttered to you, peppering your cheeks with kisses in between words.

“Thanks, I guess,” you giggled, her lips tickling you.

“I love you,” she sighed, before pecking your lips and twirling you away.

You stared at her as she ran back to the course, watching as her thigh muscles worked to support her, and her ponytail swayed right to left. You began to salivate until you snapped out of your daze.

“I love you too! I hope you get,” you paused as your lack of golf knowledge was revealed. “The golf equivalent of a three-pointer!”

At that, Caitlin cracked a smile that warmed your heart.

“Thanks, babe!”

She watched as you sat cross-legged, getting emersed in your little book world, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. The basketball player found herself snapping pictures of you, her face starting to hurt from smiling so much.

“Clark, are you going to go or what,” Connor called out rolling his eyes.

“Yeah,” Caitlin called back, her tone distant as she kept her eyes on you, walking closer to the teed-up ball. “What?”

Connor stared at her with annoyance, “Why did you invite me? If I knew this was basically going to be a date and I’d be third wheeling I wouldn’t have come.”

“Sorry,” Caitlin shrugged as she prepared to hit the ball. “I didn’t know that my girl would want to go with us. And with the limited time I have with her, I didn’t want to say no.”

Caitlin took a deep breath before swinging gently, hitting the ball flawlessly. Then, it was silent before you snapped your head up at cheers.

“Babe! Babe,” Caitlin screamed running towards you. “I got a hole-in-one!”

You quickly stood and welcomed her into your arms.

“I got a hole-in-one,” she repeated panting.

“That’s g-great love,” you smiled before your smile dropped. “That’s good right?”

“Yeah,” she giggled, kissing your cheek. “That’s good. It’s basically where a shot gets into the hole with no other shots.”

You just smiled and nodded, poking your fingers in her dimples, staring at her lovingly.

“There is not a single thought behind those pretty eyes, is there,” she asks, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Nope.”

|*|

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #iowa wbb #caitlin clark imagine #iowa hawkeyes

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moirindeclermont · 4 months ago

Text

Day 18! Happy weekend people, what are your plans? Tonight is all about blindfold (+ a dash of something else that start with D and ends with y) in my new Polin Kinktober. Have fun!

Not seeing was unnerving.

That was Pen's opinion after Colin put his tie over her eyes.

"Trust me Pen," he said.

"It will be fine," he said.

And while she did trust Colin, not being able to see him was getting to her.

"Colin, where are you?"

She felt him, turning her head in his direction.

She felt his hands on her shoulder.

"I'm here, love," he murmured against her ear.

Shivers erupted from her skin.

Colin's voice always had some effect on her, but not that strong.

He took her hand and made her spin a couple of time, as if they were dancing, before lifting her chin and kissing her softly.

She was starting to get the point of the blindfold. She could hear every tiny breathes he took, she could smell him so much better... And every time he touched her was a revelation.

He took his time, undressing her slowly before hugging her from behind, making her feel the vast plan on his chest and stomach, as well as "someone" who was begging for attention.

Pen felt him pushing in between her thighs, that she opened slightly to grant him access. It was like being touched but more. So much more. Every point of contact being so intense that she could not stop her moans as he pushed and groped her bosom. She felt him panting in her ear, and she realized she was in the same situation.

"Bloody hell Pen. I wanted to play some more but I'm ravenous for you," he said and she smiled.

"Tup me like this then, I want to feel you like this," she said to him.

Colin kissed her, the smile evident somehow to her even with the blindfold on. She was at his mercy and she loved it.

" Please, don't be too gentle. I want to fell you," she said, as he accompanied her to her hands and knees on their bed.

He kissed her pearl and entrance quickly, just to make sure he would not hurt her, a ravenous sensation eating her insides as she waited for him to enter in her. She waited and waited, until she was desperate enought to beg.

"Please Colin, please," she said, moving her derriere and causing him to curse. He took her hips and thrusted. She heard how loud it was her gasp as her back arched at the sensation of being filled so thoroughly in one go.

"Is this what you want, baby?"

She nodded as his hand went to her hair, pulling the root of the one near her neck, causing her to go on her knees. His thrusts were more powerful that way, her hands on her own bosom as she tried to get some relief.

"I said. Is this what you want, baby?"

"Oh god... Yes Colin. Yes. It's what I want. Ohhh. Moooore, please."

She could feel every vein of him inside her.

"Greedy, naughty, baby. I had such games for you... But you just want me to tup you, isn't that right?"

"Yeeees. Yes. Yes." Her voice high as he took her.

She knew what he wanted her to say but she was resisting. It was one of their favorite games.

He brought her to the edge and over.

She knew he would not stop.

The goal was to make her forget herself.

He kissed her roughly, pulling away the blindfold.

"You absolute vixen, you know what are you doing, don't you?"

She could just moan and sob.

"Look. Look at yourself taking all of it so good. You know you'll get your reward only if you say what I want you to say."

Of course he would take her so he could look at her in the mirror.

Watching her as her bosom and stomach jiggled with every thrust was somehow even more powerful after not able to see for so long.

"Baby. I need you to hear it. I know you want to.."

She did want to. Another wave of pleasure took her voice as he pushed her again on her hands, gripping her hips.

"Say it, Pen"

" Ahhhhhh Daddy, come inside me..."

His moan was so low she felt in her heart as he pushed one last time and release inside her.

It was so good. As she knew that was only the first round of that night...

(To be continued tomorrow) 😈

#polin #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton s3 #polin positivity #polin bridgerton #polin brainrot #polin fanfiction #polin Kinktober #colin x penelope #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington

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imperiuswrecked · 1 year ago

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pssst can i please ask you to spoiler the raven baby reveal to me...?

So the summary of X-Men Blue: Origins (2023) Mystique is wandering around New York acting crazy and mumbling about her lost baby, Kurt catches up with her and tries to talk her into calming down.

Kurt gives Raven his sword which breaks the mental barriers and it's revealed that while Raven was married to Baron Wagner, she and Irene were an on again, off again, couple who would hook up with other people whenever it helped their goals.

Raven had hired Irene to be the housemaid so she could stay close while Raven was married to Wagner, using his money/influence as they wanted and having a torrid love affair with Irene in private. Azazel shows up and Irene encouraged Raven to have an affair with him as well, because she had visions of the future.

Basically Irene wanted a love child with Raven, but needed Azazel to believe he was the father because she knew that unless Kurt was set on a path to be his constant foe/destroyer of his plans then Azazel would rise to power.

Irene's visions aren't something she can stop and she lives her life according to how to bring about her visions but she doesn't tell Raven any of this until 5 years after Kurt's birth. So she and Raven have a child, Kurt, and from my understanding of the reading, Mystique can copy the genes down to a molecular level and took the gene patterns from Azazel and Baron Wagner and impregnated Irene. So Kurt doesn't have 2 parents, he has 4, well 5 including Margali Szardos who was his adopted mom. Kurt is now battling for the #1 spot for "most parents and most confusing parental origin in comics" and he's up against the Maximoff twins who have gone through 3 sets of parents.

Back to the story, Raven dumps Azazel who is such a pathetic loser, I love that lol. Raven fakes being pregnant by shapeshifting to look like she is pregnant as the months go by. Baron Wagner discovers his wife's affairs, and being the homophobe he is, is stabbed by Raven who then spends the next few months switching between forms to make people believe that the Baron and his wife are both still around, waiting until Irene gives birth. I'm guessing because Raven intended to use the Baron's money/pretending to be him so she and Irene could live in comfort or until they wanted to move on.

Irene is the one who gives birth to Kurt, and Raven overcome with joy/love for Kurt doesn't want his first sight of her to be human so she reveals herself.

The townspeople are of course in an uproar, want to kill the demon woman and her demon child, Irene tells Raven to get to safety and that she would be ok, but Raven fears for Irene so she leaves Kurt under a tree and rushes back to kill the people who would hurt her wife and discovers Irene is missing, she runs back to find Kurt and he's gone too.

Five years pass and she finds Irene again, this time watching a young Rogue, Irene reveals everything to Raven, the Azazel vision, Irene needed Kurt to be raised as an outcast etc. Raven and Irene both know they are in a toxic relationship, but they love each other too much so they went to the one man who can make everything worse, Charles Xavier. Of course Xavier does what he does best, erases people's memories and implants new ones.

So now Kurt has 2 deadbeat mutant moms, 1 deadbeat demonic mutant father, 1 dead human father, and 1 adopted mother and they all give him the most drama & trauma that you will ever see in comics! Love wins (?)

I am currently taking donations to hire Kurt a therapist (who isn't Professor X), save an elf's sanity and donate /jk

I will say that this origin, though very messy, does at least confirm that Irene is just as messy/toxic as Raven, so I hope they continue to be totally bad for each other and 100% in love, which is very refreshing to see in wlw couples and I really hope they do not try to soften their edges, especially Raven's, I do not want a "good mother Raven", but time will tell. Also finally Kurt is Baron Wagner's son technically due to partially copied genetics so it finally makes sense for why Kurt has the Wagner last name, which is something that always bugged me, because imo if he had zero connection to the Baron then he wouldn't have the Wagner last name. Also this doesn't invalidate the Azazel retcon from before because again technically Azazel believes Kurt is his son, and Kurt does have partially copied genetics from Azazel.

I think it was a really tough balancing act to have to write, I wish it could have been written a bit better or the thoughts of Rogue actually being Irene/Raven's daughter would have worked better. Like imagine if Raven and Irene were both pregnant, Irene had Rogue and Raven had Nightcrawler or Irene had them both as twins, then they wouldn't just be foster/adopted siblings but also bio siblings, and it could have opened up the door for more stories involving them as brother and sister trying to deal with their mothers. Marvel constantly ignores the potential for Rogue and Kurt's sibling dynamic and I wish we got more of it in the comics. I get that the writer was trying to keep to the old canon while creating the new canon and using the original plan for Kurt's parentage, so while I feel it's way too complicated this is also comics where complicated plots and retcons have been a long standing tradition meant to torment us readers.

#kurt wagner #nightcrawler #mystique #raven darkholme #irene adler #destiny #baron wagner #darkholme family #rogue #azazel #imp answers #wednesday spoilers #x men

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staar5384 · 1 year ago

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PLEASSEEEE PART 2 OF CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS 🙏 COUNTING ON YOU

champange problems 2

neuvillette x gn!reader

hurt/no comfort - pure angst yet again - implied wriolette - they/them pronouns - light spoilers for 4.1 at the end

you ask and you shall receive! here's the highly request pt. 2! here's pt. 1 for those interested

You weren’t aware how long you had left Fontaine when you returned. After you rejected Neuvillette’s marriage proposal, you disappeared without a word. Guilt and shame ate away at you, and you couldn’t bare to face him after you had humiliated him in front of the entirety of Fontaine.

You took a vacation down to Mondstadt, where you spent your days wandering the vast wilderness and your nights drinking your sorrows away in the taverns. You made friends with a few of the locals in your drunken state. You blubbered and sobbed about how much you missed Neuvillette, and how you regretted throwing him aside the way you did. They all told you the same thing each time; “If you love him so much, go to him.”

After some convincing, and a lot of pondering, that’s exactly what you did. The journey back was excruciatingly long. Each day you weren’t back home trying to reconcile with your lover was another day your heart ached for him.

You had hoped that when you returned, people would have forgotten about the events that took place that night, but you were wrong.

Everyone stared at you as you walked the streets. They threw disgusted looks at you, whispered amongst themselves. It wasn’t undeserved, but it was uncomfortable.

You arrived at your shared home with Neuvillette, unlocking the door, and stepping inside. Adeline, your Melusine made, took notice of your arrival, “You’ve returned,” She said, her voice soft. “It’s been so long. The Monsieur and I have been so worried!”

“I’m sorry to worry you, Adeline,” You gave her a smile. “Speaking of Neuvillette… Is he here?”

She shook her head, “No he’s in a trial right now. Then there is a banquet tonight he’s attending.”

Unsurprising. There was always some sort of event happening thanks to Furina. “Thank you, Adeline.”

“May I ask a question?”

“Of course. What is it?”

“Forgive my intrusion, but why did you say no to the Monsieur?”

You shouldn’t have been so surprised by the question, but it still caught you off guard, “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

You had decided you would find him at the banquet tonight. You dressed up in your finest clothes, then headed for the Opera Epiclese. Just like your walk to your home, this one also consisted of stares and whispers. You kept your head down as you moved along.

The guards outside stared at you for a moment. You weren’t invited, you knew that and they did too, but they didn’t try to stop you.

The building looked just as beautiful as the night you left it. The purple and blue hues were replaced with grays and reds of varying shades. The flowers that once symbolized love were replaced by strings of stones and crystals that shone in the dim lights of the opera house.

You could feel all eyes on you as you walked around. You picked up a drink offered to you by a Melusine. You thank her, looking down inside. It was a purple color, and it smelled almost floral. You took a small sip. It was iced tea. Confusion struck your face. Since when has anyone ever served tea in the Opera Epiclese?

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Furina. She was ascending the stairs with a black haired man in tow. You vaguely recognized him; he stayed down in the Fortress of Meropide. The two were speaking, the man chuckling as she spoke.

Furina turned her attention toward the crowd below her. She glanced out at everyone, scanning the crowd until her eyes locked with yours. They widened, then she nudged the raven haired man. He focused his attention on you, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you.

You felt your body warm in embarrassment. Why did they have to draw so much attention to you?

You placed the half empty glass of tea aside and rushed into another room. The room was fairly empty, only a few people resided in it. You found a place in the corner to tuck yourself into. All you wanted to do was find Neuvillette, but instead you’ve attracted the unwanted attention of every person there, including the Hydro Archon.

It was going to be a long night.

Neuvillette had spent weeks planning this banquet for his friend, Wriothesley. The man had been his rock after you left, and he deserved the recognition for the hard work he did in the Fortress of Meropide.

He looked at himself over and over again in the mirror. Was his hair a mess? Did his face look flushed? He had just finished a trial and had no time to stop at home and wash up, so his appearance felt off.

“Checking yourself out?”

Neuvillette jumped, turning his head to see who was there, “Wriothesley, you startled me.”

Wriothesley leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “Who would have thought I could scare the great Chief Justice?” He chuckled, pushing himself off the wall and approaching Neuvillette.

This gave Neuvillette a chance to look him over. The man was dressed in a deep gray suit with a maroon tie that hung loosely around his neck. The suit shirt hugged around his chest, leaving none of his features to the imagination. “You’re staring, Neuvi.”

Neuvillette’s face turned a deep red, “Ahh yes, sorry. You look good tonight. That’s all.”

Wriothesley laughed, “And so do you. Stop freaking out over it.”

“How did you know?”

“Only a person worried about their appearance stares so deeply into the mirror. Well, except Furina. She does it because she’s a narcissist.”

Neuvillette let out a breathy chuckle, “Oh Wriothesley, be careful. She may hear you.”

As if on cue, Furina burst through the door, “Wriothesley! Did you tell him!”

“Tell me what?” Neuvillette glanced at the man.

“Oh. Right. Umm-”

Furina cut him off before he could speak, “They are here.”

Neuvillette’s heart sunk deep into his chest. A wave of emotion rushed through him. “What?”

“We saw them in the crowd. They were entirely alone, but I think they were looking for you,” Furina replied.

“We can kick them out,” Wriothesley shrugged. “They technically weren’t invited.”

“No,” Neuvillette said. “Let’s not worry about them. This night is not about me. It’s about you, Wriothesley.”

“But how can I enjoy my night if you’re uncomfortable?”

Neuvillette was slightly taken aback by his words. He cleared his throat, shaking his head gently, “I’ll be alright. Let’s get out there and have a good time. I’ll pretend as if they don’t exist.”

Wriothesley and Furina just glanced at each other, before giving in. The three left the room and began to engage with the party.

Wriothesley stayed close to Neuvillette, his hand lingering against his waist, hand, or any other part of Neuvillette’s body. The two were incredibly close, not moving away from each other for longer than necessary.

Furina took notice of this, of course she did, she loved the drama of Neuvillette’s ex being here as she watched what was most likely a blossoming romance.

The night continued on, and so far, Neuvillette had not seen you. Thanks to Wriothesley, he rarely even thought about you being here.

You had been wandering around the opera house in search of Neuvillette. Has the damn place always been so big?

People began to take less notice of you as their attention drifted towards the festivities. You were thankful, as it made your night a lot less stressful.

“Where could he be?” You mumbled to yourself before you saw him across the room. He was seated beside the man from before, and he looked so content.

The two men were chatting and laughing. You saw the man’s hand rested on top of Neuvillette’s, their fingers intertwined with each other.

You stared at them for a moment, unable to process the scene in front of you. Another person was holding onto Neuvillette’s hand, another person was making him smile in ways only you had been able to.

Were you too late?

Wriothesley noticed you first. His grip tightened on Neuvillette’s hand as he stared you down. It was almost as if he was challenging you to act.

Neuvillette noticed the sudden tightness of Wriothesley’s grip, “Is everything okay?” He glanced at him, then in the direction he was looking in. There you were.

Tears were in your eyes as you were unable to fully process the scene in front of you. Time felt like it had stopped and there was nothing but you and the two men in front of you.

Neuvillette rose from his seat, releasing his grip on Wriothesley’s hand. He whispered something to him, then began making his way to you.

As his figure moved closer, you almost ran once again. Your heart hammered in your chest almost painfully, as if trying to beat through your ribcage.

Once he was in front of you, the whole room turned its attention to the scene. Neuvillette cleared his throat and waved his hand, “Let’s go somewhere more private.” You nodded, and the two of you left the room together.

Now you were entirely alone. No guests, no Furina, no random man holding Neuvillette’s hand. The silence was uncomfortable as neither of you knew where to start or what to say.

“Why are you here?” Neuvillette asked, keeping a good distance between you two.

“I,” The words were trapped in your throat. “I’m here for you.”

Neuvillette let out a sad chuckle, “You know, months ago I would have loved to hear those words, but now,” He turned his head away from you. “They mean nothing.”

There was a sharp pain in your chest as he spoke. It felt like dragging a blade through your heart. “Neuvillette, please. I-I’m so sorry,” You tried to move closer, but he raised his hand to motion you to stop.

“Your apologies won’t repair the damage you caused. Do you know what it was like to stand on that stage, watching your lover run away from their heartfelt proposal? Do you know how it felt to become the talk of the city? I was pitied by everyone. I leave my comfort zone to throw a beautiful party, give you an emotional speech in front of so many people, and you not only reject me, but you disappear entirely,” His voice was getting louder, and you could see his hands shaking. “So on top of the heartbreak you caused me, I spent every day and every night worried sick for you. You left without a single word. You could have died and I would have never known. And you only just now feel sorry?”

You could hear the rumbling of thunder from outside, and the sound of rain hitting the roof of the Opera Epiclese. You stood there in silence with your head hung low. Shame, guilt, it was all bubbling inside you.

“Nothing to say?” He said, his voice cracking. You still said nothing in return. He scoffed, running his hand through his hair. “After everything I said, you can’t say a single word.”

“I shouldn’t have rejected you like that. I should have talked to you about my fears. Instead, I ran away like a coward. I spent so much time sulking and feeling sorry for myself, but I couldn’t bring myself to fix the damage I created.”

“And now you want to try? I fixed it myself, so don’t worry. I don’t need your help. Not anymore.”

Tears were falling from your eyes, your face flushing as you cried, “I still love you, Neuvillette.”

“Well, I’m sorry to say I don’t feel the same.” There was a flash of lightning outside, illuminating the empty room. “I suggest you leave. You were not invited here, and do not expect an invitation again,” Then Neuvillette spun around and left.

You watched the door open and close, leaving you alone in the empty room. A minute passed, then another, and two more after that. Your body and mind had completely frozen. The beating of your heart was painfully fast and hard. You silently cried, listening as the rain fell from the sky.

When you finally had the courage to leave the room, you made sure your exit was quick and unnoticed. Rain was pouring from the sky as you left the Opera Epiclese. You knew why it was raining, and now you had to walk back to your once home in your ex lover’s sorrows.

a/n- i feel way less confident in this than the first part, but you requested a part 2, so i had to deliver. i almost went the less angsty route, so maybe i can make an alternate ending that is actually happy. also i tagged everyone who was interested in a pt. 2. i hope that's okay!

taglist- @soggywafle arccanejj erosdevil just-a-fuegoleon-fangirl @heartfatelust

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin #genshin fanfiction #genshin fanfic #neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #wriolette #wriothesley #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #neuvillette angst #hurt/no comfort

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e-dubbc11 · 3 months ago

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🎃 Happy Birthday Month 500 Follower Celebration! 👻

The Sweetest Pain Series…

"That pumpkin is bigger than me!"

(I adore how his family helps him heal from his childhood trauma & he gets to experience all of the family fun with his wife & babies 🥰)

Thank you for your patience, my dear friend! I know how much you love this series and this was such a fun one to picture in my head. So thank you for your support, your asks and for being one of my sweetest friends. It means so much to me ♥️♥️♥️ I hope you like what I did here 🥰

Hey, Pumpkin

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Billy Russo x Wife F! Reader; supporting cast Frank Castle and family plus Anna Raven and Dylan William.

Warnings: Couple of swear words, fluffy bunnies and unicorns.

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: The Russo and Castle family have a fun time at the pumpkin patch. Anna Raven bites off a little more than she can chew 🎃🧡

A/N: Part of The Sweetest Pain Series. Still working through these asks. I will get through them all, I promise!

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕💕

The cooler weather was finally here. All of the leaves on the trees had changed from summer green to vibrant shades of yellow, red, and orange. There was a chill in the air with a slight breeze as you all walked toward the entrance to the pumpkin patch.

Little Raven stopped to read the “rules” of the pumpkin patch to herself, then turned to you and said, “If you drop the pumpkins, it hurts them, Mommy!”

Your babies were at such a fun age.

Anna Raven was six, Dylan was two, and about to turn three on Halloween. Before Anna could even participate, you and Billy would take her to the pumpkin patch to pick out pumpkins for you and him to carve into Jack O’ Lanterns. But now that Anna was older and had a baby brother chasing after her, she was old enough where she could pick out her own pumpkin.

Dylan was still a little too young for the corn maze but it was perfect for Lisa, Junior, and Little Raven plus she got to hang out with her “Uncle Frankie” and chase him and her father through the maze. You and Maria hung back and walked Dylan around to look at the scarecrows, and delightful cornhusks that were scattered around the area.

They had small farm animals like goats, baby cows, and miniature horses for the little ones to feed and pet, a couple of crawl mazes for the younger kids, and of course the whole reason you were all there in the first place, pumpkins as far as the eye could see.

The scent of cinnamon and cider wafted through the air as you sat and enjoyed hot apple cider and donuts, while waiting for the others to return from their time in the corn maze. You were anxious to see who would emerge victorious because Billy and Frank would compete to see who could get out of the maze first.

Little Dylan handed you the paper that his donut was wrapped in.

“More peeeease!” He said.

You and Maria chuckled.

Dylan’s head of wild dark brown hair had been tousled by the wind and his onyx colored eyes looked up at you, silently pleading for another donut. His cheeks were flushed and his chubby little hands were folded together at the possibility you might say yes.

“No more, baby boy. You’ve had enough sugar. We have to save some for your sister and the others. Wanna go play in the corn pit?” You asked.

“Go play!” Dylan exclaimed.

You chatted with Maria while Dylan crawled through the giant pit filled with corn kernels. Frank popped out of the corn maze first with Junior right behind him, followed by Billy, Lisa, and Little Raven.

“I think you cheated, Frankie.” Said Billy with a wide smile.

“Oh here we go…no I didn’t cheat, Bill.” Frank said, rolling his eyes.

Junior’s lips curled into an excited smile.

“I wouldn’t let him cheat, Uncle Billy!” Junior replied.

Frank turned to Anna.

“You have fun, Little Raven?” He asked.

Anna vigorously nodded.

“Can we go look for pumpkins now, please?” Anna asked politely.

Billy leaned over, placed his hands on his knees so he was eye level with his daughter and with a Cheshire cat smile, replied, “Lead the way, little miss.”

Walking through a sea of orange, the kids darted in all directions to look for the perfect pumpkin. Dylan followed his big sister wherever she went as she checked each pumpkin she looked at for bruises, rot spots, and dents.

Sometimes you’d catch her talking to Dylan, helping him, or correcting his behavior if wasn’t cooperating.

“You gotta pick up the pumpkins with two hands, Dylan.” She said.

You interlocked your arm with Billy’s and as you pushed yourself up onto your toes, you whispered gently into his ear.

“She’s such a good big sister, isn’t she?” You said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Billy smiled watching the kids, turned to you and replied, “Yes she is, sweet girl.”

His beard tickled your chin when he leaned in and delicately kissed your lips. Billy cupped your cheeks, his hands were chilled and his lips were slightly dry from the cool autumn air but his kisses warmed you all the way down to your toes. His lips tasted like cinnamon and sugar from the warm cider and donuts as a low whimper escaped your lips and you had to remember where you were.

“You taste so sweet, handsome. We should probably keep up with the kids though.” You said as your lips tipped up into a sly smile.

Billy replied, “You started it, baby. Besides, you know Lisa and Junior never let the kids get too far away from them.”

He reached for your hand and brought it up to his lips. Tenderly holding your fingertips, Billy kissed the rose tattoo on your hand which still made you blush every time, and gave you butterflies in your stomach.

He still only had eyes for you and always charming the pants right off of you although you never needed too much convincing.

“Alright move it, soldier. We still have pumpkins to find.” You said.

Slowly but surely, each of the kids picked out the pumpkin that they wanted, even baby Dylan found one that was just his size. Little Raven, on the other hand, was having a problem finding the “perfect” pumpkin.

“I wonder where she gets that from?” You said to your perfectionist husband.

Billy glared at you and replied, “Don’t act like you’re innocent in all this, sweet girl. You have perfectionist tendencies too, ya know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said with a playful scoff.

“Yeah, surrrrrre you don’t, my little firecracker.” Billy said, gently slapping you on the ass.

Suddenly, you heard Anna let out a squeal of excitement.

Sarcastically, you said to everyone, “I THINK she found something she likes.”

When you all finally caught up to Little Raven, you saw her standing next to a pumpkin that was literally almost the same size as she is.

Lisa looked at her Uncle Billy and said, “You’re gonna need a bigger wheelbarrow, Uncle Billy.”

Frank’s jaw dropped.

“Holy shit.” Said Frank.

“Shit.” Dylan repeated.

“That’s a bad word, Uncle Frankie!” Said Anna.

Frank shrugged and narrowed his eyes, “Why is it always when I say it, they repeat it?! Little Raven used to do the same thing, now Dylan?!”

Everyone laughed at Frank while Anna playfully scolded him for using bad words and you all got a closer look at Anna’s perfect pumpkin.

“That pumpkin is bigger than me!” Billy said to Anna, trying to be funny.

Little Raven put both hands on her hips, looked at her father, and replied, “Daddyyyyyy.”

“Well, it’s bigger than Dylan, that’s for sure.” You said. “That’s the pumpkin you want, Anna?”

“You guys are gonna have pumpkin seeds for the whole winter.” Said Frank with a devilish smirk.

As you glanced over at Billy, he had such a big smile on his face, he was just excited that his little girl was so excited which made you so happy. Billy turned to look at you, so you asked, “What do ya think, baby? That thing is massive.”

“I have an idea, my love.” Said Billy, and he kissed you on the forehead.

Billy called out to Little Raven, “Anna, if we get that pumpkin, do we all get to help you carve it?”

Anna flashed her father’s perfect smile right back at him and replied, “That’s why I want it, Daddy. I want you, Mommy, and Dylan to help make it into a Jack O’ Lantern! Plus, we’ll have the biggest one on the street, all the kids will wanna see it on Halloween!”

Her words melted your heart, the excitement in her big brown eyes and in her voice was so pure and sweet. Children really can find joy in the smallest things, and Little Raven wanting the rest of her family to enjoy it with her was something you’ll never ever forget.

“Well we have to get it now.” You said. “She came up with that answer on the fly? She’s inherited your powers of persuasion, Mr. Russo.”

Billy’s lips curled into a sly smile.

“Ya know it still drives me crazy when you call me that, sweet girl.” Said Billy, kissing you on the forehead.

“Can you two stop flirting with each other long enough to help me lift this thing?! Get over here, Bill!” Frank grumbled.

“Ah, come on Frankie, you can do it.” Billy said, trying to hold in his laughter.

“BILL!!” Shouted Frank.

“Alright, alright. I’m comin’.” Billy said with a smirk.

Anna Raven definitely had the biggest Jack O’ Lantern on the street that year…and you all had the best time carving it.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @vaguekayla @rosaleenablack @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @aoi-targaryen @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf @sweetserendipity65

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If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo x female reader #the sweetest pain series #anna raven #dylan william #ericca answers #ericca’s 500 follower celebration

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