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lady-ashfade · 5 months ago

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A Son For A Son

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Deamons Bastard!Reader x Yan!Team black. Pt.2

╰･ﾟ✧☽ first fic here.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ summary: the queen has given a order, and craving revenge you expect.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 1k

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: blood & gore, murder and death, reader killing, reader being her father, uncanon events, poison, I just needed to make this.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ DONT READ IF YOU WANNA BE SPOILED: reader does in fact kill aemond in this and idk if you are happy about it, I want his head to take to my queen.

“I want Aemond Targaryen.” she stood before the council covered in dirt and who knows what.

It had been two weeks since the letter about the death of Lucaerys had arrived and you all had been the worst for it. and ever since she searched and searched for a sign of truth, desperate to be wrong. that her sweet boy was alive. you knew he was dead and you wanted everyone to pay for taking luke. you wanted aemond targaryen to pay. you took anger out on the ones you could, or roamed the sky’s to get your mind off of things. you would not act without her orders.

The resemblance you shared to daemon was close and terrifying for your foes. just as you had the idea to fulfill her wishes, your father did too.

“I don’t know what you’re planning,” the sound of your voice made his shoulders fall and a smirk appear on his face, one you couldn’t see. a dark cloak draped over his shoulders and matched the same one across your frame. “but I have a better one.”

“No.” you glare at the back of his head. again denied something worth your talents.

“You can’t tell me what do to this time father.” standing your ground as his eyes turn around, a look he uses when he’s serious. and for him it was like looking into a mirror, you carved blood just like he did and loved getting to spill it. even for no reason at all.

“I have waited around for a task, and she has said she wants Aemond. I mourn the loss of my brother too, and you can not keep me from whatever it is that you think you’re protecting me from.”

Hundreds of men died at the end of your blade at night as you slip throughout the shadows. you were a slayer, a assassin who followed your own roles but loved coin and the game. a story to tell children to make them weep and fear the dark. so how could he still think you are not ready.

“I have let you do what you needed, patrol the blockade against my wishes. or fly alone when our enemies wait to make us weaker” he lectures, “and I will not let them take you.” for a moment you saw a regular father begging for his daughter to stay safe. you aren’t just a daughter now but a soldier in war.

“I would never let them take me,” you step closer and give him a smug look, “I am your daughter after all.”

Instead of going himself, daemon sends you, for the head of the copycat prince.

the castle gates are easy to slip passed with the help of a guard who shares your hatred for the hightowers. and many times, you slip into the keep without getting caught.

“Something told me you’d be here,” his eye glanced at you amused from the cough as his fingertips spin a coin. “It’s as if the gods made me stay here.” aemond unfolded his legs and leaned forward on his knees. many years you hated the way he spoke to you like a interest of his to be claimed like his bitch dragon.

“Then the gods agree you’ll die tonight.”

aemond waited for this moment to finally fight you. he wanted to win and keep you forever as a trophy, a wife who was like him and everyone feared without a doubt. he wasn’t a fool, you are a skilled killer and he needed to bring his all. and some skills stayed in the dark.

a slice in his chest, in his leg and cheek aren’t as bad as he thought when he had you pinned down onto the table. the cold feeling of metal as his hands wrapped around your throat was refreshing. you didn’t try and fight back as he took your breath because the fight was won as soon as it started.

And he should have known you couldn’t be this sloppy.

curling lips up into a devil’s smirk, looking into his eye he feels himself weakened and his grip loosen. the power of letting a man win and wiping all power from beneath their feet was riveting and a hobby. Aemond leaned back and placed his weight onto the couch while trying to keep composure. “You honestly think i wouldn’t have a plan? Make my own rules?” you raise a brow and rub the sore skin of your neck, inching closer while standing up yourself.

“Silent reaper is the name they whisper about me, come in quickly without notice. I always kill my enemies without them awake, but you,” you point and lean down as his eyes become bloodshot, “I want to feel the most pain. And I will enjoy it.” within a few minutes his body starts to leak its own blood. he was quickly taken to death of course, you couldn’t hear his pleads but you’ll satisfy with his death.

guards fall silent when they watch you walk through the halls they don’t even announce your name. white locks lace your fingers and the weight of his head was little and you look like your father with the proud eyes of what you did. the sounds of your footsteps cause the council to glance over but stay with shock. non of them expected to see that and much less out of no where. though, your father seemed pleased and chuckled at the sight.

“The head of Prince Aemond Targaryen, your Grace.” Walking past Jace you set the bloody head on the table as people gawk and flinch. “the poison was my idea, hope you don’t mind.” a second later you yawn of exhaustion and boredom. you look at rhaenrya as her eyes glossed with the revenge you took for her.

“If you’ll excuse me, the ride back was tiring and I wish to get back to my book.” bowing down you flash a “polite” smile and walk away to your chambers with pride and a hand rested on your blade. with everyone wondering what else you would do for the queen,

Your mother.

#team black #house of the dragon x reader #yandere house of the dragon #house of the dragon #yandere house of the dragon x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #dead dove do not eat

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k0yaz · 1 month ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/k0yaz/758473618729615360/arlecchino-x-married-man-reader-please-oh-wait

Pause- this gave me a vision

Good Luck, Babe! by C.R lyric angst fic Arlecchino x Reader 😼

With happy ending tho 🔫

Like Reader married some mf from the male species when her and Arl were younger (18-20) because she was in denial abt her feelings for Arl and married him as a ‘f u, I totally love men’ but even after a few years Arlecchino can still tell she’s MISERABLE

Wait- double the angst and make Reader someone who’s known for being smart, powerful and just super cool in general but her husband is constantly trying to make her be seen as just his wife and never acknowledges any of the amazing things she does ☹️

I told you so.

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, modern au, angst, comphet, more than usual swearing, girls kissing bro why is this even a warning it’s obvi, sexism, misogyny, bad husband ewwww, arle’s real name used at the very beginning, mentions of ugly ass guy inappropriately touching without consent ew, arguing, mild violence, fluff at end, not proofread.

A/N: needed to desperately write this my girlkisser ass is in code red rn cause of my parents 💀‼️ ALSO I DONT LIKE HOW THIS CAME OUT IT SUCKS 🕯️

“I don’t! I could never be into girls, Peruere!”

Back flush to the roughened couch, your aching body stretched backwards into a domed arch as your arms flailed out for leverage. Those words you had so foolishly uttered all those years ago echoed over and over in your brain like a broken record, clouding your mind like a plaguing guilt weighing down every waking moment of your life that followed. You let out a defeated sigh, the exhale dragging out longer than it should have to the point where you felt as if your own breath had tickled your lower lip. The small rush of air…it reminded you of when you felt Arlecchino’s breath gently caress the side of your face as her lips hovered over your cheek, her looming frame inching closer and closer to you as you reciprocated.

Everything. Everything reminded you of her.

The crimson lipstick resting atop the bedside table, the intoxicating scent of the perfume she always used to wear—being inhaled so deeply by you to the point where it tickled the tightened crevices of your throat. You’d spray a little on your pillows often as well, the dizzying smell with a hint of fresh roses accompanying the comfort it burned into you, and helping you fall asleep often. After all, sleeping turned into more of a hobby whenever you found yourself sharing a bed with the said “man of your dreams.”

His weight bundled onto the side of the bed situated beside you only sent a pit of sickness bubbling up within you, teeth gritting as you would lay on your side. The silky pillows enveloped your head as your nightgown loosely covered your body, hand slipped below the side of your head as you faced away from your husband. Sleeping with that man was nothing short of a clawing nightmare. Every damn night, you’d uncomfortably writhe within the blankets draped over your shoulders as you silently prayed for him to fall asleep as soon as possible, the wait getting so awful over all these years that you’d always count the digital clock situated atop the bedside table next to your head.

10:01…10:02..10:03..10:04. Finally.

The earliest he’d slept was 10:04. Giving you enough time to get lost in your maelstrom of guilt and ambiguous thoughts piled up within you.

The dotted red glow of the broken numbers displayed on the clock beside you illuminated the corner of your face dimly, eyelids low as you mindlessly gazed at the smooth wood of the table your head almost shifted onto after nearly falling off the pillow. Archons. You fucking miss her. You miss Arlecchino so much it hurts. You wish that you didn’t marry this awful, entitled man child just to prove a point that only consisted of you placing another mask of suffering upon yourself to conceal your truth. A mask that was cracked and easy to see through anyway. His irritating snores continued to buzz along the vicinity of the room, sounding more like a rumbling growl shaking the bed to be frank.

You hated him, to put it simply. You only married him to prove that you couldn’t fall in love with a girl. He was the one that was at the other end of the table with his chin resting on his hand as he gazed at you in a covetous manner, cocky grin pasted onto his vile face. The was the first suitor you thought would accommodate to your delusion.

“(Name) will you marry me?”

Each syllable hung in the air for an extended in a way that made you want to choke, blood rushing to every part of your body to seep into your sunken heart. With a stiff nod, your shaky hand slowly inched forward palm down, veins protruding along the tightened flesh as you fought the urge to hold it back and prevent him from grasping it. Swallowing back a sob, your bottom lip quivered between your teeth as his rugged hand dragged along your skin, tainting it with his unkempt, rough touch. Heads of goosebumps blistered along your hand as the freezing metal circled your ring finger tightly, suffocating your finger between the tight ring like a corset. He didn’t even bother to affirm your size. But you knew full well that she would’ve made sure that ring slipped seamlessly in perfect fit.

The gyrating ceiling fan above you whirled in rapid motions as the cool breeze emitted from it brushed along your skin, all the way up to fluffing your hair. Your eyes remained lifessly tracing the swift afterimages of the fan as you lounged on the couch, not minding your husband’s exasperated complaints piling up one after another with each venomous word he spoke.

“(Name). I told you to make me dinner when I got home from work, so where the hell is it? I’m fucking starving over here you good for nothing whore!”

Your brows furrowed together at his degrading words, face scrunching up with prominent wrinkles of irritation adorning your features. Upper body carefully elevating off the arm of the couch, you brought your palm to your forehead, before pinching the bridge of your nose with a sharp inhale. Silence swallowed the room from your lack of response to his insolent remarks and insults, only cut through by his heavy breathing vibrating against his throat. Clearing your throat finally, you were able to articulate your words in the small window of time you had before he could cut your off once more. Even the mere scratch of clearing your throat felt relieving once he ceased to speak, feeling as if there was a pass way of freedom which released you from the cage of his grasp.

“I’m exhausted. Cook your own dinner, I physically and emotionally can’t do this right now.” You replied coldly, collapsing back down onto the couch into your returned comfort as the fluffy cushions pressed flush against your spine. His face only contorted into anger, slightly reddened like an unstable child rather than a grown man. “You’re my wife. You’re supposed to cook for me! That’s your job not mine!” He bit back, hands folded over his chest and gaze staring daggers into your relaxed form.

Tilting your head over to his upright figure, you simply cocked an eyebrow, staring back at him with heavy lidded eyes as if he was just a mutt ordering you around.

“I’m not only your wife, you know. I’m my own person. I don’t have to cater to everything you want.”

“You know that you’re inferior to me. Ever since we got married that’s how it should’ve been! But no you had to go do your own little thing!”

“Then how should it be? Come on enlighten me.”

Your annoyance began elevating to a boiling point with each little thing he spat at you, every remark of inferiority made you fall further and further into a hole of sorrow and anger as he spoke each revolting “truth” about his twisted views. You couldn’t help but grasp the fabric of the cushion below you forcefully, wrinkling the fabric in every direction with your husband’s endless remarks spilling from his undignified lips.

“And once a woman is married to a man, they become his wife, and his wife only!”

Slamming a hand down onto the couch, you rose to your feet in one quick motion, glaring up at your husband’s wrinkled face of rage. Letting out a quick huff, you only took in the simmer of the broken air conditioner enveloping the silence once more as a means to tranquillize your boiling anger, breathing ragged as your heart rate skyrocketed from everything you bit back through the course of the argument.

“…I’m going to bed.”

“This early? I wanted a night with you (Na-)”

“You’re not fucking getting one.”

You winced slightly, hunching your shoulders as your skin grew hot from discomfort. Closing your eyes, you only braced yourself for the string of unending curses spewing from your husband’s mouth. Simply, you lowered your gaze as everything surrounding you was manually shut out. Mind enveloped in a pitch black void of emptiness, the only noise flicking at your cold ears being the unnerving ticks of a clock.

How much longer would you have to endure this?

The floorboards only sang out a ghastly creaking noise as you set your foot down upon each elevating slab of wood, the faint yet evident noise reminding you of the man below you having his eyes utterly fixated on your every move like a hawk eyeing its next catch. It was nothing short of disturbing and unsettling for you. Slowly, you made your way over to the entrance of your unfortunately shared bedroom, pushing open the heavy door with a fervent shove.

You couldn’t help but finally take in a deep breath as you flopped down onto the bed, body comfortably sinking into the plush of the silk mattress accommodating your exhausted self. Head still continuing to swirl with a wave of unresolved emotions, and a caged feeling confining to gnaw at you endlessly, you reached into your left pocket to whip your phone in front of your face. Rolling over onto your stomach, you thumbed aimlessly through the various contacts rowed out along your glowing screen, scrolling until you found the one you were looking for.

The contact you are calling does not exist.

Shit.

You just stared at Arlecchino’s inactive contact with deadpan, hopeless eyes, blinking twice to process it once more. You truly couldn’t reach her could you? Having lost all hope, you simply set aside your phone as it fell flat onto the wood with a knock, and you rolled yourself onto your back to combat the pure insanity of your fate enveloping you.

“I told you so.”

The already wrinkled bedsheets below you only bundled together further as you swayed onto your back and side alternately, holding the pillow up to your face with a muffled yell. Her words only continued to return to you with every moment you were awake, perhaps even in death your regret wouldn’t cease to eat away at you for locking yourself into this awful pact. Dim slivers of pale light brightened the left half of your face, glowing from the burning lamp on the table as you squinted upon the sudden flood of light blinding you.

The one thing you longed not to hear at this moment was your husband’s footsteps drawing closer and closer to the bedroom, heavily bellowing against the floorboards. Remaining on your side, your arm tightened slightly from the pressure of your torso cushioning it into the mattress, the mattress sinking deep upon your husband making his way beside you on the bed.

“(Name). Turn off that light.” He grumbled. The stinging odor of his excessive cologne only caused you to choke back a retch, gagging from the pungent smell assaulting your nostrils. You merely decided that he wasn’t worth any more trouble, and you remained too exhausted to even snap back at such a childish individual. Slowly, you reached over to clasp the handle of the switch, thumb fitted against the teardrop shaped steel of the end. For a moment you hesitated, gaze flickering behind you for a brief second—only to catch his eyes tracing your every move. In a sudden, burly voice, he cleared his throat to speak to you, tone remaining arrogant around you as if he had authority over you.

“Tomorrow we’re going to some big event with a few rich people here and there, nothing much. Dress nice tomorrow, we leave at 3 pm.”

You scoffed, squinting your eyes back at him while your body remained facing away. Of course. As always he goes and makes decisions for the both of you without even considering your words or plans.

“And you’re telling me this now?” You retorted, cocking an eyebrow while sharp breaths emanated from the man beside you, indicating his loss of patience. Not that he had any to begin with. “I can do what I want, bitch. Try not to embarrass me with your usual displays of arrogance, ‘kay, (Name)? There’s gonna be a couple rich people there.” Rolling your eyes, you only delivered a small nod in response, not wanting anymore trouble especially when you desperately needed some rest. “Yeah.”

Finally, your tugged down onto the cord of the lamp, the pale yellow light dimming and blowing out completely. Your husband was completely knocked out by the time you lowered yourself onto your side, facing away from him. Rumbling snores reverberated throughout the room, ringing in your ears repeatedly as you folded the edges of your pillow over either side of your head in an attempt to block out every noise.

It wasn’t too early in the morning, rather the darkness spread out within the frame of the window accompanied by the low glimmer of light outlining the moon suggested it was sometime in the middle of the night still. Deep quakes of breathing racked the vicinity the moment you took in your surroundings, alerting you awake altogether. Of course. It was him again. Letting out a subtle, quiet groan, you buried your face into your cupped palms, fingertips tracing along the flat of your forehead as you cloaked your face within your hands.

Was this all you were now? Nothing more than his trophy wife just like he wanted?

A light buzz from your phone lit up the device, making its glowing screen noticeable from the corner of your groggy eyes. You leaned over, inspecting the notification you had received so late at night. There was a single gray bar with the calendar icon in a box to the left of it, the lines: “Rich people dinner at 3” displayed along the margins of the bar. Great. Not only does he set notifications on your phone without asking, but he also doesn’t even formally address the dinner. You simply sighed, breath shaky as you constantly found yourself struggling to come to terms with your current reality clawing at you.

—

“(Name) come on! We’re gonna be late and the fancy pricks’ll look at us like we’re broke!”

You scrunched up your upon hearing him calling you like a barbarian, your dress halfway hitched up to make a few adjustments for a good fit. Loud bangs against the door only heightened your brewing annoyance, causing you to manually drown out his calls as another screeching white noise in the background. The silk of the dress tightly fitted your figure, framing every inch of you and hugging each blooming curve of your body. You hunched your shoulder forward, turning to your side to inspect the dress as a smile crossed your face. For once you felt quite confident in yourself rather than sulking about your husbands antics.

It didn’t take long for you to suddenly be snapped out of your daze as the and of the door swung open against the wall, revealing your husband with his arms folded in the doorway. You nearly choked on your own breath, coughing in shock as the sudden thud of wood banging against the wall had startled you, making your body jolt.

“Well, you look like a snack don’t you?” He sneered, causing you to instinctively brush your hands along your elbows as you folded your arms, physically recoiling from his forward advances. You thumbed at the fabric anxiously, sucking in a breath of fearful anticipation with each step he took. That was until his arm grasped at the dip of your waist tightly, fingers digging in as if he wasn’t going to let you go. There wasn’t much you could do besides hold your breath as you felt yourself being pulled against him, perturbation screaming at every single mental alarm, every possible sense you had before yanking away from him to fix the front of your dress.

“Please. Enough. You said we’ll be late, right?”

He only flashed you a grin, taking your hand in his, which you almost immediately yanked away from.

“Yeah. Get in the car. Remember no smartass remarks. And if anyone asks, you’re my wife. Nothing more.”

You averted your gaze at his statement, only walking over to the door of the sleek rental car before climbing into the back seat. No way you were about to get into the passenger seat next to him. Once you seated yourself into the back against the smooth leather, you proceeded to draw in the remaining droops of fabric your dress hung out of the car before shutting the door and leaning back into the head rest.

The ride felt like it was driving past various roads and buildings for hours, each time you gazed out the window to see a tree flash by quickly feeling as if it had been a century since you had first gotten into the car. However, you found yourself lazily parked—courtesy of your husband—before a opulent hall towering above you and lit up brightly despite the sun peeking behind the clouds in the afternoon. Two large doors framed the opening carved around the center, adorned with outlines of black steel, and large knockers stuck on the inner part of the door frame. A lanky man in a suit stood upright beside the parted door, arms tucked behind his back as his eyes scanned each person who made their way in and out of the building hall.

You exited the confines of the car, ducking your head to avoid hitting it along the roof before standing straight and closing the car door behind you. Your husband only shoved your shoulder in response, grasping your wrist as he dragged you along with him with haste before the doors. You didn’t even bother to protest, and flashed the guard a weak smile as your heels dragged along the rolled out carpet leading into the hall. Just get this over with. You’ll be fine.

He finally released your hand carelessly, not paying any mind to you while you shook your wrist and blew on it to subside the effects of his tight grasp. The chandelier decorated with candles rocked back and forth above your head, while various bars and tables stocked with food and drinks furnished every corner of the hall. Along with that, a large screen flashed at the very front of the hall blared loudly along with the speakers situated on both sides of the screen.

—

The entire event had been nothing but a bore. Rich man after rich man bragging about his company which he knew nothing about. The people who came up to you and your husband when you both were standing by each other attempting to converse with the two of you, and inquire more about you, were only met with your husband’s constant boasts about how you were merely his wife. Your achievements were his too, and therefore he was the one credited. This only led up to you isolating from him, and practically everyone at the party, drowning your sorrows away in glass after glass of champagne. Thankfully, your high alcohol tolerance allowed you to remain appearing sober, only needing to tighten your hand around the table for support occasionally.

Heavy lidded, you brought another glass to your lips as you tilted your head back in one jerk, gulping down the alcoholic beverage and squeezing your eyes shut. You let out a quiet hum as you set down the glass on the table behind you, dragging along the table cover as you examined the vicinity through droopy eyes. The same. Everyone was just wearing suits and that god awful smug expression. You simply rubbed your forehead, stress lines forming along your skin as your massaged it.

That was until a dashing figure caught your eye. Someone familiar.

You squinted your eyes once more, catching a single streak of black hair blended into white, a thin ponytail trailing down her nape to the back of her white suit. At this point, you were sure the drinks had definitely done something to you. You just missed her so much you were going insane and hallucinating like a typical drunkard. Yet, you couldn’t mistake that piercing gaze—near glowing red crosses embedded into her pitch black pupils within heavy eyes.

Despite still being drunk, you shouldered through the crowd, halting upon reaching the circle of people crowding the alluring woman who held a glass of wine between her sharp, black faded fingertips. Her crimson lipstick glistened as a hint of wine smeared across it, expression remaining indifferent to the heaps of people surrounding her while she leaned onto the table. You couldn’t believe your eyes. It really was her.

Arlecchino. Where have you been this whole time?

Steep breaths caught in your throat, you pushed past the crowd, stumbling occasionally and not minding their complaints. You wanted to do so much. Cry, hug her, apologize, run away from your caged marriage, talk to her, catch up—everything. She simply turned her back to the crowd before you could even reach a viable proximity near her, stepping away to a more secluded location. Your heart sank as you began to lose sight of her, gaze fixated on her white suit with the emblem in the center of her chest as you continued to keep your eyes on her in the crowd no matter what.

You paved through each bundle of people blocking your path, staggering occasionally due to your own drunkenness as you finally caught sight of Arlecchino leaned against a polished wall near a table, eyes fluttered shut as she sipped her refined glass of red wine. Breathing heavily, you staggered over to her, resting yourself at her side before slowly trailing your sights up to her face with bleary eyes and a near pleading expression.

“Arle..?”

She only cocked an eyebrow in response, staring down at you with a cold gaze lacking recognition. “Do I know you?”

Hurt burned in your throat as you fought not to cry upon hearing those words from Arlecchino’s lips, your own bottom lip being dragged between your teeth to prevent making its fervent trembling noticeable.

“Arle, it’s me, please.” You choked out, placing a hand on your chest while panting heavily as you locked eyes with hers. “It’s me, (Name)..” you mumbled under your breath in a shaky voice, tears threatening to sting the corner of your eyes at any given moment. Arlecchino suddenly set down her glass, coming face to face with you before her own eyes widened at your familiar features.

“Ah. It really is you isn’t it?”

Although her tone remained calm and collected, it wasn’t hard to tell how her voice softened for you, growing sweet like nectar dripping from her crimson lips. You nearly sobbed upon feeling her hand gently brush along your cheek, your own hand resting atop hers as you leaned into her touch, trembling. You could barely articulate what you wanted to say, each word coming in short breaths as droplets of tears pricked at your eyes subtly.

“My darling. You haven’t changed much. Still as beautiful as the day I met you…” her thumb circled the skin of your cheek, eyes roaming down to the same crimson lipstick she used decorating your own lips. “…and the day you departed from me.”

“Arle- I’m so sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you then! I can’t live like this any longer! I can’t! I knew it was you ever since I didn’t listen to what my feelings told me! Please! I love you, Peruere!” You gasped out desperately in one breath in a near sob, clinging onto Arlecchino like a lifeline as you grasped at the fabric of her coat. She only let out a soft hum, resting her chin onto your head as she took in your scent. You were wearing her perfume. Soothingly, her fingertips traced a repetitive pattern of comforting circles along your back, something she always did when you both were in your youth to calm you down.

“(Name). I’ve never once lost my feelings for you. I love you. And you only. I’m just, pleased that I get to see you again.” She sighed, burying her nose into your soft tufts of hair at the top of your head as she hugged you. She hemmed her arms around your vulnerable form holding her tightly, almost like a promise to never let you go again, to protect you from any harm that dared cross your path. Wiping your eyes, you cleared your throat as you pulled away from your moment of weakness, standing straight before Arlecchino as your palms nervously clasped together in front of you.

“Tell me, how awful is he to the point where he broke you like this..?”

“Terrible. Straight from hell if I could say. I’m stuck. I’m so fucking stuck you don’t even know.”

“I see.”

She paused, proceeding to say her next words.

“Would you reprimand me if I said once more that I told you so?”

You shook your head, contrasting the initial reaction you had when you first lashed out at her all those years ago.

“Nope. I’d affirm that you were right. I shouldn’t have complied with what society wants if it means I have to suffer.” You replied, gritting your teeth together as you looked away in shame. Arlecchino only placed a hand on your shoulder, running her arm down the curve of your shoulder as her sleek hands traveled down the flushed skin of your arm. “You would always get warm like this when I touched you.” She reminisced, letting out an exhale of contentment.

All of a sudden, the comfort of the moment was shattered by your husband’s voice, slicing through the tranquility harbored between you and her mere moments ago.

“Ah! (Name)! Who’s this? A friend?”

He eagerly shook her hand, while Arlecchino’s gaze grew resentful and repulsed of the man before her, her own hand clasped around his with every ounce of hatred she possessed. Brows furrowing, she immediately pulled her hand back, manner remaining distinctive, yet subtly aggressive.

“Ah, you may talk to me now in fact. This woman is my wife! And she’s just my wife don’t worry about it. Anything she told you is my achiev-“

“Shut your fucking mouth. Before I shut it for you—nauseating son of a bitch.” She replied harshly, eyes locked on him with nothing but murderous intent.

“Don’t speak to me that way you slut-!”

He was cut off by Arlecchino’s firm grasp on his wrist, nails digging into his flesh barely. Although—her mere strength alone was enough to nearly shatter his wrist, making him cry out for mercy and forgiveness from the woman looking down upon him. Fear clouded his eyes for the first time you had ever seen as Arlecchino looked him in the eye, his pupils shaking from anticipation and fear. “Refrain from speaking about her like that, or treating her poorly. If I find out about your disgusting antics again I’ll personally tear you apart limb by limb, understood?”

Before he could respond, she tossed him aside like a ragdoll as he gripped his arm in agony lip quivering at the searing pain ripping at the aftermath of his wrist. In the meantime, you felt Arlecchino’s lips brush against your ear, staining the shell a light blood red color as she whispered softly.

“May I?”

You smiled genuinely for the first time in years, nodding as you felt her warm breath caress the side of your face once more. God, you missed that feeling. Her arm circled the wide ends of your waist, pulling you tightly against her as she held you close under her watchful eye. It was simple. She’d never leave you again.

—

“Peruere..since when did you even get such a nice modern home like this? I’d die to live here.”

She breathed out a quiet laugh, tidying up an area quickly with her back turned to you as she stood in her nightly wear. “No need. You will be living here if you’d like, darling.” She glanced over her shoulder at your form splayed out on the mattress, comfortably hugging the pillow to your chest. It was evident that you’d never felt this safe or happy in quite some time. She put down the cup she was rearranging near an odd table in her room, seating herself on the bed as she motioned you to come closer. A light chuckle escaped her lips as you complied, shifting close into her arms comfortably as you basked in her warmth.

“What about my husband?”

“What about him?”

“Well- I am still married to him. I’m legally still stuck.”

Laying back, Arlecchino just exhaled in response, threading her slender fingers through your hair.

“I will get you out. Trust me. For now, just rest how I wanted us to. You have a lot of love you missed out on, and I’m here to help us catch up on that.”

You sighed peacefully against her at those words, curling up at her side as you nuzzled into her. For the first time, you could sleep peacefully with a weight beside you. This was all you had wanted. Safely enveloped in Arlecchino’s embrace, being able to bask in tranquility and solace with the woman you loved as you sought an escape from the cruel torment of your husband.

Perhaps it all worked out in the end.

No.

It did work out in the end, as you slumbered in your beloved’s arms.

A/N: HOLY SHIET THERES SO MUCH I WANNA SAY

first of all tysm for 1k followers I genuinely appreciate all the support and I hope my writing has improved over the course of the past year and a half or so!

Second guess who’s alive again yay but writing is a little rusty

Third I am in fact going thru a little internal struggle atm so if my works are a bit late or kinda ass bear with me please 😭‼️

Other than that ily all I love how the second half of this turned out and yeah 🕯️

I’m kinda cold ngl

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biribaa · 1 year ago

Note

I saw you were taking requests for The Amazing Digital Circus, so if you want can you please write Headcannons for Kinger, Caine, and a character of your choice x a reader who’s abstracting in front of them

Also remember to drink lots of water and to take breaks!

-🧪Anon

Kinger, Caine and Ragatha x reader who's abstracting in front of them

I appreciate your kindness but I'm a computer, I think water is one of the things I need to "drink" less and prevent more.

TW/CW: AHH... Spoilers, also angst. Reader does get abstracted in all scenarios cuz we still dont rlly know if someone can be saved from getting abstracted

Kinger

Imagine lost your partners TWICE. Lolololol loser/J

Everything seems to occur in slow motion from Kinger's point of view, a heart he once had is somehow beating against his body. He prays to any god on this earth, be it real or not, or even Caine maybe, that this nightmare isn't happening again to him. Please, everyone, but not you.

Kinger tries to do everything so his lover don't reach the great peak of their insanity, even though he's not very good at it, knowing his personality. But trust me when I said, he tried. Who cares if he will get all glitched for touching your form, he needs you.

He never thought he would live another nightmare inside a nightmare. And in seconds that felt like painful hours to Kinger, here "you" are, a noisy form covered in eyes that flash in different colors. Your skin (if we can call it skin) moves abruptly as if it were a bag full of enraged cats. And, god, how he wished it was him instead.

Things are resolved by the talking human jaw, and yet the silence in Kinger's little pillow fort is no longer comforting as it once was. Silence now makes the small chess piece itch in agony. Silence that could be enjoyed with your presence, with holding your hand or dancing with you, and chat about random stuff he and you knows. The feeling of missing someone is familiar to him, and yet, it hits him in ways that his years in this circus haven't hit him.

Caine

While Kinger tries to do everything, Caine actually does anything to try saving your corrupted mind, and the lack of power in this situation leaves the digital being in panic. A simple snap of the fingers is not enough, and this information makes him tremble in ways he never thought he would tremble before for a simple human.

You aren't just any character, you are his favorite, the lil' buddy he spoils every hour and that always push a giggle from him. You were his very own star. The show could continue the same without you, Caine was sure of it, but could he? Without a character as entertaining as you in action?

"Of course I can fix them, I am Caine!" It's a phrase that was repeated several times in the presenter's programming, But with every grunt coming from the thing that once was you, it's just a reminder to Caine that he did a horrible job trying to take care of you. There were other characters that were abstracted of course, but... You were special to him. His favorite star. His star.

Caine even feels hesitant to put you in the hole of other characters who were abstract before. He preferred to keep you in a cage away from other people's contact, with no one hurting you and no one hurting you.

He knows, he knows the painful truth that you cannot be considered a sapient being, but even though you are a trace of what you once were, Caine doesn't have the courage to lose you forever.

With the other characters, Caine will act normally, with his loud and lively personality. Only if they analyze Caine close enough, the characters would notice something wrong with him.

And then, sometimes, he just stares at you in the cage. Caine ponders if he should admit the lost of his favorite star, it would be easier, but the pride in his chest screams that there must be some way that he could actually save you from...this.

Ragatha

Somehow, the scene is all silent for her. Ragatha stares at you as if the impossible itself is happening in front of her.

Ragatha holds your hands about to disappear, she caressed what was left from your shoulders, she hurriedly whispers words that would normally calm you down, but nothing can save you from the fate of your sanity, just leaving her with the pain of being glitched.

Of course, she had her other friends like Pomni, but lost you?!

Ragatha thinks she saw everything during her new experience in the digital circus, but something common like losing someone so important was the end of the line for her. You were her darling, her sunshine and her little everything even.

Everything she did sounded slightly more boring and boring without your presence, and Ragatha could do nothing about it. She continues (at least tries) to remain strong after that, still trying to complete the little adventures that Caine gives to the participants. But Ragatha's slow pace and lack of smiles was very noticeable.

The weight on Ragatha's chest is too much, losing someone so sweet and perfect for her in such a horrible way is too much. And the worst part is that Ragatha believes that she could have done something to save you, she could have been with you more often so that your mind didn't fall apart like this. But now, she can do nothing but mourn.

#x reader #canon x reader #reader insert #tadc x reader #tadc ragatha x reader #tadc caine x reader #tadc kinger x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader

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nemesyaaa · 3 months ago

Text

a house in nebraska ! rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary ; you were the reason he won't come home but you still call home. this story is based on the song of ethel cain.

warnings : it's angst. fully angst. it's about toxic relationship. so violence, arguing and fighting, sick behavior, daddy and mommy issues, the urge of love and being loved, mentions of drugs, the feeling of being misunderstood and unsteady. home is used as a metaphor of relationship. it's about inner rage too. slight of smut but very little. both rafe and reader being fucked up. southern goth/small town coded.

author's note : it's my first time writing angst so be easy one me please ! as i said, it's based on " a house in nebraska" by ethel cain (because she's my favorite artist and my muse.) and a lot of her songs make me think of rafe, but i also take inspo of her others songs like crush, strangers, and hard times. also a hint of bet on losing dogs by mitski.

i dont know how many words are in this works, but i think around 3k ? it's a one-shot ! BETTER TO READ IT WHILE LISTENING TO A SAD SONG. (a house in nebraska (live version)or anything else)

you lived in the nebraska with rafe, he was your man and you were his girl. it was a small town that allowed you to be just him and you against the world, to be safe from the rest. but the ugly truth was that your house had become a raging mess. the mattresses had become dirty, the silence too comfortable, the night too long, the emptiness too deep, the love too absent and the violence too present. everyone was angry here, even demons and the silence.

rafe was a storm, and every time you tried to calm it, you became further worse. no, you weren't becoming like him, you were becoming him, the mirror of his emotions, full of rage and inexpressible feelings. like a bomb, you needed it to come out, to scream and explode. like a bomb, you needed to hurt, and destroy everything in your way.

you had built this house together, when he still worked with his hands, oh god, how much you loved those big and strong hands, the dirt and bruises on his skin. the softness of his palms when he touched you, the pulsating veins engraved. they were made to love you, to caging you. they were always rushed with blood and wounds because of his work, but despite how dirty they were when he came home, they were always pure and clean on your body. but you also were so in love with his messy sweaty hair, caressing by the wind. he was tall and handsome, the kind of man who worked all day, and drunk at night, some whiskey or bourbon. but never missed to please the needs of his girl.

when he smoked his red marlboros on the porch, you were sitting on his lap like a sleepy girl to take a nap on his heavy arms that managed to hug your body. when he took a sip of his cold beer, while you had nothing to do but being his own pretty girl. when he allowed you to bathe him, cleaning the mess and the sweat. when you used to learn him how to play some classic music on the old piano, and he was just turned on by the way you used so damn well your fingers, and making you sit on the board, and fuck you right there, even if the windows were wide open.

at this time, you would have die for him.

when he still listened to what you said, when he still answered your calls and did not make you sick by his silence, when you laughed every time he came home . but now you were starting to hate the fact that he was coming.

how did the man who was supposed to make you so happy manage to break you so easily? but you weren't an angel either, oh far from it, you had neither wings nor halo on your head, you didn't even have god in your heart. you made him, like all men, your enemy.

it was four in the morning, it was still dark, you were waiting in the living room.

the tv wasn't on. rafe had broken it during an argument. that wasn’t the only thing he shattered, you had to be the hardest thing he does. not even with his fists, with just the force of his words, the way they were murderous, the way they had the force to tear your heart open and crushed it into pieces.

most people would say that this man was not the type to cry, that a man doesn't cry, but rafe cried. and you had seen him a couple of times, and the first time you saw him burst into tears, you knew straight away that it was the real him. that behind all this hatred, this anger, there was a hurted little boy. and who grew up with an open wound, a wound impossible to heal, even with all the love in the world.

rafe was the kind of man who screamed, who cried, who bled, a fallen angel who had lost god along the way, who had been ignored, but mostly, never heard.

when he opened the door to the house, you hated the strong smell of alcohol, but also of blood. you never asked him for anything, the only thing you wanted was for him to come home on time for dinner, to go to bed with you. but no one, absolutely, no one tamed a dog like him. and you rathered not bet on losing dogs.

“where were you ?? ” you had already started shouting due to lack of patience, getting up from the chair to confront him.

you had seen him sigh, making that bored face, like you had no reason to be upset, that face that made all women become even worse.

“if you had the same energy to scream when we fuck, we would have a fantastic sex life.”

“seriously, rafe? you want to play the asshole, right now ? ”

“ it will suit your bitch behavior, so why not ?”

you slapped him very hard in the face. what obviously rafe didn't find this very amusing, he crushed you in the wall, pinned your hands above your head.

“ don't you dare slapping me again. you want to be mean, sweetheart ? i can be meaner. let's see....oh this is the necklace that your mom offered to you before leaving ? how sweet. maybe, i can sell it for a good price. ”

“ rafe. don't. ”

he shushed you, by putting his other hand on your mouth. “ you're not allowed to talk right now. you had your turn for, now, it's my fucking turn. and i will do whatever the fuck i want ! it's my house, my rules. ”

he unhooked the necklace, as you tried to break away from his grip but he closed his fingers tighter against your wrists.

“I'm going to kill you, no matter what you do, i'm going to kill you. ”

“murder me” he said with a louder voice. “i’m asking you to murder me! it’s probably the only good thing you’ll have done well in your life. you know even if i die tonight, i will die yours. even if you kill me, i will always be here.”

he released you, and you exploded. “you have exceeded the limits, rafe! ”

” since when are there boundaries between us, sugar? we're freaks, remember? ”

you threw away the first object you found, it was an empty coffee cup. you threw it at his face. but he had dodged it with a sick smile. your jaw clenched, eyes blazing with fury, you were out of control. you were what he wanted you to be every time he came home late

” oh you can do better than that baby. i'm sure i taught you how to shoot better than this when i showed you how to kill? do you remember? ”

“ this, this fucking attitude, rafe is why everybody leaves you ! ”

“ yes. and do i fucking care, y/n ? do i fucking care ? i grew up in a family where nobody loved me, nobody reached after me, nobody looked after me, nobody dared to pay attention to me and you tell me i have to care about everyone leaving me ? no, it's not fucking fair ! so do you understand ? i don't care. if you want to leave, you know better than me that the door is open because you're the only one to be stucking in front, waiting like a fucking dog that i come come. ”

“ fine. i leave ! ”

you took the keys of the car, even if rafe hated that you drove, especially at midnight. but you were too upset, too mad.

your man wasn't done with you. he stood in front of the car you were driving.

“if you think i'm afraid of killing you, when you were the one who taught me how to do that, you're wrong. ”

" yes ? then show me how well i did my job. kill me. ”

“ rafe, i’m not kidding. ”

“ perfect, we are both serious then. ”

you moved the car forward, pressing the pedal with your feet. you hitted him with the car. it was strong but not violent either.

you got out of the car quickly to check on him. but he was smiling, a little blood on his face.

“are you sick!? ”

“ i raised you well, i fear. now, lick this face. i can see in your eyes how pretty you find me covered with blood, so please yourself, lick it all. ”

“ wait, i will find some tis….”

“ no, with your tongue. clean my whole face with your tongue. don't waste anything. i want to be able to kiss you right after, and recognize the taste of my blood all over your mouth. you want to be sick ? make me feel sick too. ”

maybe you were too young to realize that some loves could be bad. but this relationship was toxic. you had both destroyed each other, and it was complicated when you saw this world, this universe only through your union. you felt like you had lost a lot, like you had lost everything, like you had failed. maybe, you were the failure, and rafe, the problem. but also, maybe, he was the failure and you, the problem.

and you hated not knowing what was going on in rafe's head, you hated that no one on this earth could figure it out, and that even rafe himself didn't know it. he was crazy, he was sick but that wasn't all, it couldn't be just that.

you gave up the fight, going to the bathroom to take a bath. you needed some peace because the house didn't feel like a home anymore.

sometimes wheezie would call you to see if you were okay, she had grown up, and you lied to her all the time. because it hurt so much to be two in a relationship, but not feel like you were a part of it anymore. and the worst part of it all was that you could kill yourself for just one minute of affection, just one second of happiness, just one moment in the past when everything was okay. where rafe was still the sweet little boy you knew. but the stories were not meant to have a happy ending.

it was hard this feeling, this lack when he still lived with you in this terrible house. but one day you'll be the reason he won't come home again. but you would always call home. you promised yourself. because it would always be yours.

rafe had joined you in the bathtub. and you could tell by his red and empty eyes, his blank stare that he had been crying. he cried and he was not the drugs, he was you, only you.

and you didn't mention it. you didn't say anything. you preferred to stay smart and not start another fight.

“the walls could break down with so much screams. ” you said, laughing slightly.

“maybe we should sell the house. ”

“i like this house. i feel at home here. i have nowhere to go. ” you lied for the two first, but not for the last.

and it was true. you had built everything, paved everything here. you had remade a world. you couldn't leave, you couldn't leave anything. and above all, you were too tired to leave.

it would be a lie to say that you didn't had sex in the bathtub, that you didn't feel his tears on your shoulder, that you didn't feel his thrusts get harder each time a sob broke out his empty eyes, that you didn't feel how much he was breaking every time you took pleasure. because, it was hard for him to seeing you being happy. because it was so hard to take care of you. because it was so hard to feel loved and being loved. you were both too young, too stupid, too sick for love.

and rafe wanted to make you happy without sex, without all this selfish sex. no, he wanted to make you happy by some casual things. but sometimes, you pissed him off so bad to the point, he wanted to leave. but how can a man who hoped to be loved can leave the woman who promised to cherish him ? it was too tired, too angry, and too unsteady to leave. you broke him too. and it was sad for him, because you were the only one he was not scared to tell it hurts.

but at six in the morning you were fighting again as if it were a ritual, a need, a desire to destroy each other, as if sometimes love needed to be violent and destructive to work. actually, for freaks like you, surely.

“why did you throw my fucking drugs down the toilet?! ”

“because you don’t need that!” ”

“you don’t know what i need, you barely know what i want! you had no fucking right to do that. ”

“ don't be a crybaby ! ”

“ repeat. i dare you to repeat. ”

“crybaby! you're a fucking crybaby, rafe! your new personality changes nothing about the boy you were and will always be! what, you don't like the truth ? bad for you, i'm about to tell you what everyone doesn't want to tell you. because i'm not scared at all of you ! you're a fucking crybaby ! ”

“ but you're still here, you're still fucking here. because you know what ? i'm maybe a crybaby, but i'm a river worth wading. and this is why, you're standing in front of me with all this confidence. you wanted a broken man, you wanted someone to fix ? then come on baby, i'm here, i'm watching you, i'm listening, i'm literally at your feets, fix me ! fix the little boy you wanted, make him better. ”

“ rafe…”

“no, i'm asking you now who do you think you are? do you think that because you have this attitude, it doesn't make you a little girl who needs her daddy? because damn, yes, you need him. but i fear daddy was the only one who didn't need you because guess what ? he left. and you make all the men leave around you ! but the difference between us is that you care. when i fucking dont care.”

“ you're sick, a sick asshole. and don't touch me ! ” you pushed him away, but he came back, his hand on your throat. “ but you're the sick one who loves me, remember that ?” he answered.

“ but do you think i still love you ? ” you said with a smirk, taking pleasure to see his widen eyes. “ i'm asking you right now, do you think i still love you, and if one day, someone will like you like i do ? it would be so hard for you to find happiness after me, i can promise you this. you will fight a lot. because ? can you see ? can you see i can breathe without you, i can live without you ? but you, can you do this ? yes, you can fight, you can scream and shout but what else ? ”

“ it doesn't hurt, y/n. it doesn't hurt. and you can't break me, as you can't fix me. ”

“ then why are you crying, big boy ? why are those tears for, if not for me ? ”

“ i built a home for you, i did everything for you. ”

“ and then what ? ”

“ don't make me regret it, y/n. don't make me regret the only good thing i've made well in my life, just don't make me regret...this. you don't understand. why did every house i'm in never felt like home ? ”

“ you destroy everything, rafe. but me too, i guess. the difference is that you have an excuse, a reason for being like that. your dad fucked up with you. and i hate him for that. if he had loved you correctly, you would have known and learned how to love people, how to be attached to them. but you don't know any of that, you don't know what it is to love, and to be loved. everything i do for you, you could call it love, even when i'm mean. but it's false, love is tender, it's beautiful. but you know, i think i'm sick because i also like the way you love me, this violence, this rage, this impulsiveness, it drives me crazy but it makes me alive. so, do you think you could do it again? ”

“ why you didn't leave, why you never leave ? ”

“ because it's our house. we're stuck in forever. this is our house in nebraska, our only heaven. now be a good boy and cry a little for me, i think i'm going away a little...” you said, taking him in your arms, your hand placed on his back, and your hand pressed to his cheek. “don’t worry, i cry a lot too. all the time, even when you make me happy. ” you shushed him, bursted in tears in the hug.

you kissed him on the corner of his lips, your mouth meeting his tears, before he joined you in this kiss, you felt his sad and salty tongue against yours, his hands came squeeze your waist.

but now in the present, you were alone. the house still existed but it was just you.

you weren't sleeping anymore, because you kept hoping that he would come home, you were hoping that he would come home late at night.

but you were alone in a dirty and cold mattress. and you prayed for him hoping he was okay. the phone was broken but you were hoping to hear it ring, the door was open and you were waiting for a sign.

nothing was right, everything was wrong. you just wanted to say to rafe that he had you, that he had a house, and his home missed him, like nobody ever does in his life.

you didn't realize that you had been lying all this time, and that you were silently dying. but at least you died, only his.

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remember-the-fanfics · 10 months ago

Note

Heya! Saw you were in need of some hazbin requests- would you be okay writing something angsty? I liked your earthborn idea, so you can use that concept for the reader <3 maybe teen!reader is having a rly tough time mentally at the hotel? Panic attacks, loss of appetite, the whole lot of it. You can take this anywhere it goes, I won’t mind. And if you can’t/don’t want to write it no worries! (Also, on a serious note I am getting help currently. Please don’t worry about my mental well-being ❤️)

So abrupt ending, ran out of idea and then got a headache, hope you're doing well. <3

Cut because readers thoughts get real panicked

You weren't a sinner, you haven't even died yet.

Why were you here?

Was everyone right? Did you truly deserve this?

They can't be-, you are still mortal. Then why were you even in Hell?

Why Why why-

You couldn't tell anyone, not that you don't trust them! All of the people (are they even still people if they are dead? Demons?), are nice and you just don't want to worry them with the truth.

"Have any of you seen (Y/n)? They are always willing to help me with taste testing my food?" Niffty asked after finishing cooking for the hotel.

"Haven't actual seen them today. I think they are sleeping though the day. I would." Said Husk, cleaning a glass.

"They've been skittish the past few days when they aren't in their room." Alastor stated, "More jumpy that usual."

"(Y/n) haven't been like this since they first got here." Said Charlie with a remorseful look. "I hope I didn't push them to hard on redemption, I know they can be sensitive about certain things."

"Like how all of this could be for nothing?" Said Alastor with a chuckle. "They might realize that and miss their old life. Realizing that they can't actually get better than hell."

"I'm checking on them." Said Vaggie, getting up and heading towards (Y/n)'s room.

"Just don't be too pushy! And make sure they've eaten! And water!" Said Charlie after Vaggie.

Vaggie remembers the look on your face when you realized you were in Hell being the one who found you wondering aimlessly. Your transition to a sinner wasn't a pretty one, after accepting Charlie's offer at the hotel the two didn't see you for almost two weeks. Vaggie thought you left until Charlie convinced you to come out of your room.

You look lost when you opened the door. The two only realized that you were young, not a child but not completely an adult. Charlie didn't force you to talk about what you were thinking, just got you to eat something and drink water then take a shower with some borrowed clothes.

Vaggie had moved you to a closer room to the two of them. You didn't have anything to move out so you just followed the two. They kept an eye on you since, making sure you realized that this wasn't the end.

Vaggie grumbled on her breath, standing infront of your door. Knocking with no answer.

"Kid, I know you're in there. Just want to make sure you're okay."

"..."

"(Y/n) did one of these assholes do something? I'll kick their ass if they did." Vaggie continued. "... You haven't closed yourself off like this since you first got here."

Hearing a sniffle after bring that up, clued Vaggie in what might be wrong.

"Look, I'm not like Charlie and will break the door down instead of talking to you for 2 weeks waiting for you to open it."

" 'm fine Vaggie."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"..."

"Or drank any water? Or even took a shower?"

"Give me a second."

(Y/n) would have jump out of the window if it wasn't that far. They looked for any escape route from Vaggie and the conversation they would have. (Y/n) could hide in the closet but they spent their childhood in there, they dont want to go back.

With a quick push the trash under their bed and make themselves presentable, they open the door and Vaggie look unimpressed.

"Come on, Niffty made food. You're eating." Said Vaggie not giving (Y/n) a chance to say no by grabbing their hand and pulling them along.

"Okay..."

"Charlie gonna want to know what upset you." Said Vaggie, (Y/n) groaned in response.

"Can't we just say I'm fine? I don't want to talk about it."

"You're not fine. You've not closed yourself off in awhile."

"I needed some me time?"

"That shouldn't include ignoring your health."

Well it was the most awkward dinner, everyone was trying not to stare at (Y/n)'s disheveled shape while eating. (Y/n) ate almost half the plate before pushing it away.

"I'm full." They said.

"You haven't eaten in a week, you need to finish." Said Husk.

"That's all I can eat right now. If I try I'll probably vomit it back up which will put me back in square one." Said (Y/n), trying not to get annoyed with the others for caring.

"You still need to hydrate." Vaggie said putting down a glass of water infront of them, (Y/n) grimace at the glass as water didn't taste good to them.

"Fine just can you all go back to eatting your own food?" (Y/n) said, sipping on the water while everyone grumbled and went back to their own plates of food. Everyone became silent while eating when it just became to loud in (Y/n)'s head again.

You were fine, everything was fine. This water was... water. The food was fine.

Everything was just fine. Everyone was fine.

Why then didn't it feel fine?

Why couldn't you feel fine?

Because you were in hell-

Like all the people your family said would be there-

People like

You.

But you shouldn't be here. You never died, you don't even look like the people down here.

Down down down, why does you life always go that direction?

You really should breath.

The first one to notice was the only one who didn't take her eyes off of (Y/n), Charlie, seeing that (Y/n) just stops everything. Charlie went to them quickly, not touching them yet. Crouching down next to their chair, having everyone watching now. Vaggie gotten out of her own chair ready to help at any moment.

"(Y/n)? Are you-?"

(Y/n) took a quick inhale, barely putting down their glass in time for their body to exhale. Charlie realized that they were breathing too fast while (Y/n) realized they were panicking infront of people.

"(Y/n)?" Asked Charlie, startling (Y/n) out of their thoughts and almost out of their chair. They looked like a frighten animal at Charlie.

"...Fine, 'm fine, t'is fine, promise." (Y/n) said, trying to not worry Charlie.

"Just focus on your breath." Said Charlie. "Just close your eyes and focus, in for 5, hold for 5, and exhale for 5."

(Y/n) squeezed their eyes shut, trying to focus their ragged breathing to calm down.

Just focus

After a few minutes, (Y/n) keep their eyes closed not wanting to face everyone.

"Better?" Asked Vaggie.

"Hmm." (Y/n) mumbled in response.

"Want to take a shower, while I get Niffty to fix up your room?"

"Hm- yeah."

While (Y/n) being in the shower, Charlie and Vaggie went with Niffty to (Y/n)'s room. Which just was littered with all things; trash, clothes, and random things.

"I never seen their room this messy before, hope there aren't any bugs. If there are any, they wouldn't be for long." Said Niffty getting to work quickly.

Charlie helped by ridding the bed of covers, pillows, and sheets. Vaggie taking anything that seemed dirty to be washed and getting new bedding for the bed, while looking for clean clothes for (Y/n) to wear.

"What do you think bothering them so much?" Asked Charlie.

"Probably thinking that they'll be suck here forever." Said Niffty.

"...That's probably true but they believe in redemption that I'm working on, are they second guess it?"

"(Y/n) has a habit of pushing their problems away until they can't." Said Husk, standing at the door way with a drink. "I'll take the clothes to them if you want." He said to Vaggie before she handed him the clothes.

"But they know we are here for them. Why can't they trust us with helping them though this?"

"They are probably use to going though it by themselves, they don't usually talk about who they were before hell." Said Vaggie, putting a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "We'll be here to help them up again when they need it."

"I know, I just want the help them before it gets to this." Said Charlie before (Y/n) appeared in the doorway of their room.

"Oh wow, you all did a good job. It looks way better." Said (Y/n) nervously after hearing what Charlie said. "I apologize for what happened. Not use to people wanting to help me before it becomes their problem when it gets to big."

"Well we'll be here if you ever want to talk about it." Said Charlie.

"Thanks. I'll try if it happens again."

#platonic hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #earthborn reader #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin angel dust #hazbin Vaggie #hazbin niffty #i didnt put Alastor here because the bitch would probably laugh or try and murder someone for you

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mythica0 · 3 months ago

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Levity

🎂: Epic the musical

🧁: Odysseus

🍫: Hermes

Summary: Hermes decides to cause a little mischief in the most fun way he knows how.

A/N: FUCK IT IM WRITING FOR EPIC. I am obsessed with Hermes and also very lee for him. Like there is a primal need within me to be wrecked by this man. This was very fueled by my lee mood and said desire to be wrecked by Hermes. (I basically just wrote what I wanted but happening to Odysseus haha) Hope yall enjoy this very self indulgent thing I wrote! :D

Cw for some pretty intense tickles

(P.S don’t question how Hermes does stuff it’s God Magic)

Levity

Hermes was bored. He had nothing to do, and he wasn’t the type to just sit around. No, he wanted to cause chaos. He wanted to spread mischief and jokes and make someone laugh or groan or smile, or even better, all of the above.

He decided to target his great grandson, and also his friend, Odysseus.

Ody had been on a journey after the Trojan war to get home, it’s been a month or so, and they were still just sailing. Hermes decided that the captain could use a little levity, a break from the monotony of daily life.

So he flew over to the ship and snuck on, heading towards the captains quarters.

Odysseus was working on some sort of Nondescript Work. Sitting at his desk with a quill in hand.

It wasn’t fun, but it was necessary. He stayed up late into the night, gazing out at the moon and ocean outside.

He started to feel as though he was being watched. He gazed around the room, but after not seeing anything he brushed it off.

Meanwhile, Hermes was snuck in the corner and ready to begin to cause some trouble. He started by slowly and steadily raising the.. ahem.. sensitivities… of the captain.

At first it wasn’t noticeable, after all nothing was actively tickling him, so how would he know he was getting increasingly ticklish with each passing second?

But then- the motion of his clothes against his skin felt tingly. And then the air blowing past his neck made him want to scrunch up.

Eventually it got to a point where any sort of motion at all made him giggle, and at this point he knew something, or rather, someone was messing with him.

“Alrihihight who’s doing that.” He did his best not to move to much, as every motion sent waves of ticklishness through him.

Hermes flew out, showing himself.

“Hey there, Odysseus!” He giggled, smiling tauntingly.

“Ohof course it’s you, Hermes.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And whatever is that supposed to mean?”

“You like to cause trouble. This seheems on brand for you. Now can you please return me to normal? I’d appreciate being able to move without laughing.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Well, I mean, I can, I just don’t want to.”

Odysseus groaned.

“In fact, I think I’m going to take advantage of this~”

“What does that mean- HermeHEEHES!” He was cut off by his own laughter as the god flew over to him, scratching gently at his ribs.

Odysseus immediately knew this was going to suck. Hermes was barely touching him and yet he was already incapacitated by the sensation. It was so much stronger than it would’ve been normally.

“Hehermehehes cuhuhut ihit ohohout!”

“No way! This is so much fun! Dont you agree~?”

“Absohoholuhuhutely nohoHOT.” He lied between loud fits of laughter. It was so BAD and he was barely touching him! His increased sensitivity was extremely apparent, his nerves lighting up and firing rapidly at the smallest touch. But despite that- it was kinda.. fun? He couldn’t understand why, but the unbelievably ticklish feelings plaguing his nervous system felt good. It felt nice to just let go and laugh his head off, unable to do anything to stop it.

“I don’t think that’s the truth~ you seem to be having a good time to me~.”

“NohohoHo IHIM NOHOT- EEHEEHAAHA” peals of laughter echoed from him as he tried to protest, even though he didn’t really mean it.

Hermes moved up, starting to tickle the underarms of the king. This was a much worse spot for him, and his laughter became louder. He couldn’t breathe, but yet it felt so nice. He was giddy with the feeling, pounding his fists on his desk to try and expel some of the happy, ticklish energy building up within him.

“Tickle tickle tickle~ aren’t you such a ticklish little thing~ yes you are, yes you are!” Hermes teased, giggling with him.

Odysseus blushed furiously, and covered his face, but was unable to form words through his laughter. Hermes saw that he was struggling to breathe, so he lowered his ticklishness back down. Not fully to its normal levels, but enough so that he could get a good breath in.

“HErmehehehes plehehehease stohohop! I cahahant Tahahake ihihit!” Tears of joy had formed in his eyes, and he was struggling to not let them fall.

“Aww, don’t say that, I believe in you! And you better hope I’m right~, cause I don’t plan on stopping aaaanytime soon~” the trickster moved his hands to Odysseus’ tummy, squeezing gently.

“Uhughh, yohohoure a jeheherk!”

Hermes scoffed in mock offense. “Uh! You have the audacity to call a god a jerk? I come in here to provide some levity and I get called a jerk?! I cannot let that slide.”

“Yohou cahame hehere fohor ehentertahainmehent ahand yohou knohow ihit!”

“Yeah, I did. I also came here because I wanted to see some laughter, is that such a crime? And your sass is unwarranted. I’m turning your sensitivity back up-“

“Whahahait dohohont- ihihim sohorhorry!” The phrase ended in a squealing laugh as Hermes made good on his promise, turning his ticklishness up extremely.

“Are you actually sorry or are you just saying that so I’ll stop? Cause I have a feeling it’s the second one. And that’s fine- it just means I’ll have to tickle and tickle and tickle until you mean it! Doesn’t that sound like fun~”

Any protests the captain tried to make were consumed by his booming laughter, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences. His nerves were on fire in the best way, every bone in his body telling him to laugh. He felt as though the tickling sensation was at his very core, going deep into his body and mind.

Floods of dopamine hit his systems, overwhelmed by the tickles. He couldn’t stop laughing, he couldn’t stop smiling, and as much as he hated to admit it, it felt amazing. It was unbearable in such a good way, shocking his nerves over and over with light, bubbly, happy feelings. Tears had long since fallen, the overwhelming happiness and laughter forming as droplets.

All the while Hermes kept teasing, his lilting voice so flustering. Hermes was also having the time of his life, seeing someone who was usually so sad and stoic broken down into heavy fits of laughter, wide smile splitting his face.

Just then the playful god had an idea for a game, he stopped for a moment, allowing Odysseus to catch his breath.

The laughter died down into smaller giggles, perpetuated by the phantom sensations left behind.

“Hey, Odysseus~ how about we play a game, hmm~?”

“Oho gohoodnehess.. hehermes plehehease, I cahahant!”

“All you have to do is laugh~ and you’re already doing great! All I’m going to do is harvest some of the delicious laughter that’s all over this farmland~” he taunted, scooping up Odysseus and plopping him on his bed on his back, and then straddling him.

“Whahahahat? EHeehAHa!” His laughter increased in intensity once more as Hermes began to pinch at his sides and ribs.

“There’s some little laughs here~ gotta get those.” He spoke playfully.

Odysseus was slightly confused, but he couldn’t bother to wonder about it, his brain turned to mush. Laughter and giggles still echoed from him.

“Ope, this one’s being a little stubborn~” Hermes lilted, pinching repeatedly at a spot he’d found was particularly bad.

“Hermehehehes, plehehehease stohohohop!”

“Nah, I’m not done yet~ don’t worry~ I’ll stop once you really need me too.” As a god who loved to tickle others(I mean, he might as well be the god of tickling too at this point.) he had a knack for knowing when someone truly couldn’t take anymore, and Odysseus had not yet reached that point. He still seemed to be enjoying himself, no true panic behind his eyes.

“Hey, there’s a really big laugh here! Let me get it!” He acted as though he was an excited farmer, harvesting his crops. But it mostly wasn’t pretend, he was, in fact, excited to be doing this. Happy to spread laughter and joy, and a little bit of chaos along the way. He dug into Odysseus belly, with the exact pressure to make it agonizingly ticklish.

Odysseus was dying, (figuratively, of course) it tickled so much, and he couldn’t do anything about it! He felt as though he was at the gates of tickle heaven, joyful tears streaming from his eyes from the force of his laughter. It was a great workout, that’s for sure, with his stomach and face sore from the effort but in a way that was sort of pleasent.

“Man, it’s just not coming out! Maybe I should try eating it right from the vine, hmm~” he knew what that meant, and he was full of a giddy anticipation, waiting for the moment that Hermes would-

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of a raspberry right in the center of his tummy, followed by gentle nibbles. Odysseus was weak with laughter, pounding his fist on the bed below him and kicking his feet.

“Om nom nom nom! Wow! This laugh is really tasty! Let me find some more!”

He continued the game, pinching and digging at various points across Odysseus’ torso, occasionally nibbling and blowing raspberries, sometimes many in rapid succession.

All of Odysseus’ thoughts were taken up by the tickles. All that he could think of was how badly it tickled, how badly it made him want - no need- to laugh. He was reduced to nothing but a massive puddle of laughter.

Eventually, Hermes noticed Odysseus was done, and hopped off him, lowering his ticklishness back to normal.

Odysseus continued to giggle, breathing heavily in between the fits.

“Ohoho myhyhy gohoodnehess…. Thahat wahas soho bahad…. Hehehehaha.”

“How ya feeling~ happy?”

Odysseus was too giggle high to think of anything but the truth. “Ye..Yeahah. Ahand tihired..”

“Oh, good~ glad to have brought some joy. How about you get some sleep, hmm? You definitely need it after that.”

“Thahat… sounds lihike a good idea.” Odysseus agreed.

“Glad you had fun, Ody~” Hermes teased, honest with the words. As he turned to leave, he heard one last sleepy, giggly phrase.

“Thahank yohou Hermehes… I needed thahat.”

The god smiled fondly. “No problem, it was a blast for me too.” And then he flew off, leaving a dazed, sleepy and giggle high Odysseus behind.

———THE END————————————————

#sfw tickle community #parrotwrites #epic the musical tickles #ler!hermes #lee!odyssues

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weenwrites · 6 months ago

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Hi, can I get headcannons about optimus prime with a human reader,where the reader is struggling with the fact that optimus chose jack over them to guard the key to vector sigma.(optimus is the guardian of the reader and the reader blames mostly themselves for being too weak,stupid and regretting every past traumatic experience they shared with optimus.They dont blame jack or optimus.)The reader tries to hide it bcs they dont want to embarrass themselves(as they see it) any further in front of optimus or burden him,but the thoughts that everyone dislikes them creep up again and so they become distant very quiet/serious.(Actually the reader is super intelligent,like ralphs level of smart,but in every possible area of knowledge not just science with great advices for everyone and everything,basically so caring deep down that they see it as weakness and hate themselves for it)Optimus knows whats wrong (he saw the readers hurt expression when he gave the key to jack despite the reader thinking that they were not noticed) and takes them for a drive after a long time to confront the reader about it.I would like like it as long and angsty as possible.

✎A/N: I'm assuming you mean angsty as in this is written from the Reader's POV, and we see all the self-deprecating thoughts and then Optimus approaches them, but my writing focuses more on the character than the reader insert, so I'm sorry if this isn't what you wanted.

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

It's difficult to hide your feelings from him. He's very perceptive, much more than you'd expect, and even if he doesn't pick it up from you directly, he can pick it up from the way the rest of the team positively speaks about you. It's like how a kid thinks they're keeping something under wraps, but the adult already knows everything about it.

As your friend, he readily offers any and all support he can give. Optimus attempts to console you by expressing that by no means are your past contributions considered "small", and for each and every one, the team is grateful. But your worth isn't determined by your ability to contribute to the team, he's sure to add, as the team also values you as a friend whom they can look to for comfort or advice whenever they need it most.

He urges you to not let your own pain blind you from the truth, and he keeps reminding you of all the times you've aided the team in one way or another with your sharp wit and emotional intelligence, such as how you helped to coordinate the effort to seize the space bridge.

Though you see traits such as kindness as weaknesses, he sees them as some of your greatest strengths. Your compassion can be a source of hope and comfort that the team was able to draw from during their darkest hours. It can be difficult to recognize the affect you have on everyone around you, but it's there and he's seen the evidence. Even if you don't see it, you've changed the team's lives and he's grateful for your unwavering kindness, even in the face of adversity.

But he understands that internal conflicts can be among the most difficult to overcome, and so he knows that his words aren't an instant remedy to your insecurities. Your own doubt and insecurity can make you blind to your own strengths and exaggerate your weaknesses, making it hard to accept or believe any remotely positive thing that someone says about you. But Optimus wouldn't lie, these things he's said to you are true and honest, yet it's most likely still difficult to accept them at face value. That's alright, he'll sit through it with you.

#tfp imagines #tfp headcanons #tfp x reader #tfp optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #x reader #reader insert #self insert #weenwrites

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writingoddess1125 · 1 year ago

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Birthday Gifts

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x FemReader +OOC

THIS IS A BitterSweet ONE

Previous Triplet Series <<<

⚠️WARNING:⚠️ Saddness, Spoilers, Character Death, Depression, PTSD, Child Birth.

I AM WARNING YOU! THIS IS BITTERSWEET AND IF YOU DONT WANT MW3 SPOILERS LEAVE!

Also if you complain about the Bday I found 3 different birthdays and just picked one- No judging.

You knew this mission would be a hard one for Simon, Leaving you for 3 months to do a final mission before taking his leave to be with you.

"I'll be back- I promise" He had whispered to you, before leaving. It was hard, you were fortunate you were still in the early stages of your pregnancy but it didn't make it easy. Comforting yourself during morning sickness, the ache that seemed to settle over your bones. You counted down the days for your husband's return, as your body swelled with your children.

"Simon?..." You whisper softly, he looked so... beat down in his poster. His hoodie drawn up over his hair and still in a face mask. Something was wrong- You could tell immediately by his body language and how drawn away he was from you-

However it was worth it- You knew he would be back.. He had to.

When you got the message from Price that they would be landing on base in a few hours, you jumped in joy. Getting a nice dinner set and dressing up nicely as you rushed to go pick up your husband. Getting in the old truck which Simon planned to trade in for something new you speed to the close by Marine Base to pick up your husband.

With a quick flash of your badge you waited in the parking lot, scrolling through your phone ready to show off different things you wanted to get the babies.

Hearing the passenger door open you beam ready to kiss and cuddle over your husband but pause. His movements were slow as he sat in the seat not even looking in your direction.

"...Johnny is Gone... we scattered his ashes" He said simply- and your heart shattered for him, understanding immediately what was wrong. Silence after that as you took Simon's hand in your own free one before starting the car and driving the two of you home in silence.

"Baby?" You say softly, the two of you sitting in silence for a moment before he gaze a uneasy sigh.

You had to pick up the peices that night, and the night after and for the next few days... Simon feeling guilt in his heart and regret- Swearing he could have done more, he could have saved him if only... crying in your arms and holding you close as he battled demons in himself.

You knew Simon had delt with the loss of comrades before but never like this.. He set so many regrets on his shoulders, mainly for not being enough.

It took time, but he did reveal why this hit him harder then before- Admitting his final conversation with the Sargent was about his birthday and wanting to knkw Simons. Simon dismissing him of course but Soap begging of course which made the man relent and tell him- Soap snagging his phone to save his birthday so his Lieutenant didn't forget it- It had been a conversation that had warmed his heart secretly making him feel like he was a child again and having made a friend in school.

Only for it to be ripped away days later..

While Simon kept up his normal kindness towards you, you saw the fence he had put back up in his emotions from you. You understood it would take time and eventually come down once again- It took a month for Simon to place his unease away for you, Which you didn't mind since it had been your turn to be a rock for him.

Now hitting your 32 week mark you got Simon back fully- him helping you out in terms of movements as he opened up slowly to you.

And in truth you needed it-

You were HUGE at this point. It was hard to move and the pain was increasing by the day.

Tonight was no exception either, You had been trying to get some rest for the past few hours but couldnt- It was only 11pm and Simon was asleep next to you, lucky bastard- There was pressure on your pelvis and you couldn't move, it having been 3 weeks too long since you could shift your own weight while lying down. Sighing you gently tap Simon away, His eyes opening immediately with instant clearness as he stared at you.

"Im sorry- I just.. I have to pee..and i havent been able to get up in 10 minutes" You said softly, Simon nodding without laughing which you were greatful for as he helped you up and began to help you waddle to the bathroom.

Mid step a gush of liquid rushed down you legs and you almost sobbed right there- Both you and Simon looking at each other and sighing.

"That wasn't pee was it?" He asked, almost hoping it was pee- sadly you shook your head no. Simon nodded and helped you to the toilet before going to get the newly purchased SUV set up. Loading up the bags and three carseats for you as you did your business changed and went to meet him to start the grand adventure to the hospital-

The next few hours were a joy- if hell was a playground.

They were getting you prepped for your C-section and so you'd sat there with Simon waiting as the cramps were eating you alive. You were way too early and they had planned to have your surgery in a few weeks, this however was a awful surprise.

You were leaned against Simon, they had warned him you'd be uncomforble for a while as the drugs worked through your system and they prepped you for surgery.

The doctors rushed in quickly, looking over your charts and the machines tooled up to you.

"We are getting you into surgery now- It seems like the labor was brought on due to your triplets being under high stress and your blood pressure has risen greatly" The doctor said as calmly and carefully as possible- Which did not make you feel calm at all! Simon clearly the same way as in a flash they carted you off. Your eyes as wide as saucers as you were lead into surgery- what could only be described as a tent being placed over your abdomen as they added more drugs to your IV making you feel dizzy.

"How are you holding up?" Simon asked, dressed in the hospital covers that he had rushed on by instruction of the nurses and holding your hand tightly as you stared at him loopy-

"I'm scared-" You whispered, Simon nodding at this in understanding as he kissed your hand. The doctors that surrounded your lower body and proceeded with the surgery, Simon felt his anxiety raise as the familiar scent of copper filled the air but he couldn't see anything. Holding your hand tightly as you both patiently waited-

"Alright, We have the first Baby" The doctor announced, there was a pause for a second before a shrill scream filled the air, a nurse walking around quickly to place the baby in the glass bassinet and began to clean her off. You and Simon watching in total awe at the screaming girl-

"Second on the way" The doctor said quickly, before a second scream happened. Tears running down your cheeks as the second nurse went to clean the baby out as well.

"They are beautiful" Simon mumbled softly as you softly cried, still loopy from the drugs but unable to tear your eyes away from the two screaming bodies.

"First girl is 2.1kg (4lb 11oz) and 40.5 cm (16in), Second Girl 2kg on the dot and 38 cm (15in)" The nurse called out.

2 Minutes after the stroke of midnight a the final baby was lifted from you. Clearly this one begins a bit of a struggle as it wasnt annouced but the cord was wrapped around them-

"Its a boy!" The doctor called out, but his body limp and pale. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you saw the doctors quickly turn away and begin to try and get air in the babies lungs.

Simon was sitting there pale and eyes glossed over, it was like when he first got home after Soap died like he could only see his death and nothing more. His hand holding yours in a iron grip as he didn't move an inch-

The loud cry Seeming to break the spell that hung over the room as the boy was quickly rushed into a bassinet to begin his check over and treatment. Simon taking a breath again as he looked at you, his eyes beginning to return to some way of normal it seemed as he reached a shaking hand over to clear the tears from your cheeks.

"For the boy, 1.8kg (4lb 1oz) and 38cm (15 in)" The nurse called out, The bassinet being brought to your side as you saw your three squirming babies scream out at the world. You sobbing silently and watch in awe, Simon kissing your cheek as he couldn't tear his eyes away either.

"We are going to stitch you up and send you to recovery, Dad wanna come with us?" The nurse asked, Simon looking at you and you nodded- already feeling the narcotics pulling you into a forced sleep.

"Okay.."

The next hour was truthfully a blur for both of you. The babies being carted in and out, you bring pumped up with more drugs and Simon in a daze that in one day he was a father to three children..

The nurses asking him questions and lead him away from you to the nursery area were he could hold his kids while you rested. Having him scrubbed down and in cleans as he was seated in the clean room to hold each of his children, Holding both girls as he marveled at them- they looked so much like you.. A perfect mix between the two and in his eyes the most beautiful girls in the world.

"What about feedin's?" Simon asked his exhaustion making his accent stronger, especially after noting the lack of baby bottles. The nurse giving a sympathetic smile to the new father.

"They are on a feeding tubes" She said softly and pointed to the machine one of many attached to the tiny newborns.

Simon sat there, holding the little boy finally. Sadness in his eyes as he stared at the tiny Lad, smaller then his sisters and having barely survived the hard birth as the nurses told him, the tiny tube that was taped on his face didnt help Simons thoughts either.

The girls were asleep in the glass bassinet on the other side of him, He sat there holding the boy who had just been laid in his arms and sighing softly... the flashes of his own father going through his mind as doubt ate at his soul, Tommy as well- How he would be as a father.. what it truly ment to be one.

Jumping from his thoughts his phone started to buzz, not wanting to wake the babies he pulled it out quickly and silenced it- Seeing it was a reminder for something... His eyes widening at the text.

'November 12th 01:07am 🧼 Birthday'

"Son of a Bitch" Simon said with a sad laugh, shaking his head as he remembered his comrade and the request of a birthday gift from the Lieutenant.

"Couldnt let me forget could you?.." Simon said softly, tears welling in his eyes as he stared back at his little boy and held him closer. "Happy Birthday to you then..."

♡ Hazel Grace Riley - November 11th 11:56pm

♡ Rose Ann Riley - November 11th 11:59pm

♡ John 'Johnny' Scott Riley - November 12th 12:01am

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 6 months ago

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hi, im an 18 year old pre-transition trans guy and ive grown up in an incredibly repressive fundie household which has caused me to really struggle both socially and with my sexual development. ive been homeschooled nearly my whole life and am currently getting everything set up to enroll for college this fall, this will be my first time living away from my abusive household and im very nervous about it..

anyhow, im in a really really weird situation right now. because of my shelteredness ive always been extremely isolated irl, ive never had a consensual romantic or sexual experience irl and all of my friends are online friends. well, one of my online friends (a cis guy who i knew from an online forum) and i started fooling around a bit, flirting and then eventually very explicit conversations, trading nudes and sexual video calls. we were extremely emotionally close and the relationship was pseudo-romantic but we both agreed we didn't want to do online dating after both of us having a bad experience with it previously.

this whole situation allowed me to experiment sexually more than i ever have, and i really felt more sexually confident than i ever have.

when we met, he told me he was freshly 19. and for the whole relationship i was under that impression, he didn't give me any reason to doubt it. but two days ago he couldn't handle lying anymore and revealed that he was 15. needless to say that was an incredible shock and i dealt with it as responsibly as i think i can.

the reason i'm coming to you about this is because i feel really weird about the whole thing, i dont blame myself for believing him and im not mad at him because i understand what lead him to those choices, but now i feel really awkward about all of the good things i got out of the situation before the reveal.. this was my first time ever really doing "real" sexual stuff with someone (beyond just texting i mean, i had never exchanged nudes or done vidoe calls like that before) everything sexual i encounter now makes me feel awkward because of all of this, its really weird and uncomfortable and i don't know what to do :(

im not sure what im hoping to get out of telling you this but i can't really talk about this to anyone else i feel like, so i guess i just wanted to get it off my chest

(if anyone responds to this accusing me of taking advantage of him or not handling the situation correctly, firstly you have basically no context and secondly you don't know what i did to take care of the situation. let me and my close friends be the ones to judge how i handled it, this is an extremely complicated situation for me to be in and you being judgmental does nothing positive for it.)

hi anon,

oofah doofah, what a sucky situation.

I totally understand feeling grossed out by the reveal; those feelings are real and deserve recognition. it's not nice to be lied to, especially when the truth casts all of your previous experiences in a totally different light - and a much scarier one, since you could very well have been breaking the law by exchanging nudes with a 15 year old, depending on where you live! this person could have gotten you in huge trouble by lying, which makes this whole situation that much worse.

having said that, you don't need to feel good about having had a good time and having gotten some positive experiences out of this dynamic. you were enjoying a relationship that you had every reason to believe was above board and it did great things for your sexual confidence! that's not retroactively untrue just because you were being misled; all of the good things you felt are still real.

think of it this way: when a couple breaks up there's often a urge to feel that they've been wasting their time together, that all of the energy and devotion they brought to their relationship was ultimately a waste because they didn't die together in bed holding hands at the tender age of 107. but that isn't true! no relationship is a waste of time, and even when things don't work out, that doesn't mean the good things didn't count. every time those people made each other laugh, everything they encouraged each other to try, every new thing they experienced together, every time they had sex, every meal they shared - all of these are real and matter and helped shape them for the better, even if they ended up parting ways as romantic partners.

the same is true for you. take your time to sit with your hurt at this loss and betrayal of your trust, but don't throw the good out with the bad. this wasn't ultimately a good relationship for you, but that doesn't mean it brought nothing of value into your life, and you can carry what you learned about yourself forward with you as you seek more appropriate partners :)

#sex edventures 2024

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rey-jake-therapist · 20 days ago

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You know, Sauron gets called a narcissist a lot and we should talk about it a bit. The thing is, from someone who's read books, watched films, and done tons of info gathering all because I lived with a narcissistic parent, it's surprisingly to me how so many ppl only look at his tendencies from an angle of victimhood (but understandable), and not the angle that if you're cunning enough, you can play the reverse uno card on their dumb asses. I lived in emotional pain for years until I realized I decided to accept the role of victim, and that I didn't have to. So I decided to research everything about narcissists, and found psychological ways to play them at their own game by taking advantage of their blind spots.

For one, since they have this inflated sense of grandiosity, they find it very hard to believe a lie that flatters their ego. Idk if ppl realize this. Because denying a compliment with /some/ truth in it would mean they are being humble, and thus downplay this false image they desperately want others to believe about them (unless they're faking humility for reason, like to get a promotion or to flatter themselves to someone above them on the ladder, or in Gals case, because he thinks it would look good on him in her eyes to appear 'humble'), as well as admitting to that egoistic part of themselves that they aren't as great as they believe they are (and they do). Like I said how I lived with a narcissistic parent? I figured out that if I pretend to hype them up when they're in a good mood, they would genuinely think I cared about them and thought they were this amazing dad, and they would be like 'hey let's go get some mcdonalds!' It was nothing like the genuine love from a nonnarcisstic dad, but I learned how to manipulate him to get things that I wanted, simply by playing to his need for admiration and validation.

I'm not saying this tactic works for every narc you come across, but if you can get yourself into their head, be the master to their puppet strings, instead of opposing them or correcting them (they hate criticism and anything that hurts their ego, as we see with Annatar), you can use them just as they see you as a tool.

Idk if any of this makes sense. I do think that I may have absorbed some of my dad's traits for seeing things this way, but I know in my heart I would never ever treat my own kid like this. I see it as a form of adaptation to living with someone with such a vile personality disorder. But in terms of Sauron, he's got to be one of the dumbest narcissists I've seen. He is praised for his masterful deceit and manipulation but he's genuinely stupid in that he doesn't have the self awareness (like the audience, particularly haladriels) to realize that Galadriel is a huge blindspot for him in everything.

I'm not JRRT and I can never hope to write anything near the world he built, but if the forces of good have any brain they would take advantage of this blindspot in some way instead of furiously kicking against the current and thus causing a lot of bloodshed and losses for their own side.

I hope you don't mind if I copy/paste your second message here since it's the continuation of this one... It avoids that I make two different posts :)

And also, just to add to my last ask: And this is why I think Gal jumped off the cliff. She still has some sort of emotional entanglement with this whole mess, which is a HUGE RISK if she were to try to play him at his own game (at this point). It's one thing to completely divorce any kind if feeling between me and my narc dad, who I've lived with for years, and slowly realized that he would never be the dad I am owed. It took a lot of pain and tears when I finally realized it (Dont feel sorry for me, I'm not even emotional about this anymore, I just see our past in this clinical detached way. I find narcs fascinating in same way a scientist studies a lab rat). But for Galadriel, her situation is different. She didn't have years by his side to slowly realize this. To slowly pick apart and coldly analyze Sauron's pattern of action, thoughts, and habits like I did with my own dad. Her feelings at that meeting were raw and unorganized, she was angry, more emotionally betrayed, unable to stop galloping until the very end, when she stumbled upon a last ditch idea (really it was a gamble) to get away as far as she can from him. Idk if its because of the crown wound or her own resolve that she fears is weakening her, but she needed distance asap. But I really think my idea is interesting and I hope to see more fics in the future that take on Galadriel using herself as his blindspot to weaken him. It doesn't have to he canon compliant, but it would also play well into how canon ends. Just some interesting food for thought. A lot of fics I see are pwp and redemption focused, which I already love, but I also kind of want to see them become like chess masters as manipulation. Gal in particular has so much potential and we know she has a very vindictive dark side. ;)

I know you said you said there was no need to feel sorry for you, and I actually admire your strength of character, but I still want to say this : no kid should have to suffer from having narcissist parents. I myself lived with a narcissist for years, so I know where you come from, even if it was of course a different dynamic. And you're right about not accepting to be a victim ! It's very hard, because it involves accepting that you deserve better, something that a narcissist will constantly make sure you don't. Needless to say that the Annatar/Celebrimbor relationship was very hard for me to stomach, because of the way Annatar behaved towards Celebrimbor. It felt very familiar, and I really didn't like it. I'm worried about my kid now, especially after reading your post... I'm worried about how my ex's behavior will affect him. Hopefully, I am able to balance things out. I'm a lot of things, but I'm damn sure I'm not a narcissist.

I won't comment the rest of your post, not because I'm not interested, but for the exact opposite reason : I couldn't add anything smart or relevant to what you suggested for the Haladriel dynamic :) Thank you for sharing these ideas with me !

#ask answered #haladriel #saurondriel #sauron x galadriel #galadriel x halbrand #galadriel #sauron #fic ideas #fic prompts

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transmutationisms · 9 months ago

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been thinking it for a while but it is both an interesting and frightening thing to see more and more people in their 20s who are usually self-professed hard-leftist progressives get more and more into emotionally-driven, kneejerk 'takes' about how everything new to them is bad and evil and 'this generation' (usually people younger than them who they seem to base all their opinions on from some teens dumb tiktoks they see) is stupid and doomed and the world/'our culture' is constantly degenerating, etc. many of the people who think of themselves as radical leftists are coming out with more and more barely-formed, incoherent and emotionally-driven reactionary ideas, and respond to any criticism of these ideas with defensive appeals to disgust or a general sense of 'everyone just knows this is bad!', bypassing needing to think over their own ideas or articulate the reasons they hold them entirely in favor of reactive outrage.

it feels to me like were watching in real-time how many of us will progressively turn into reactionary liberals or right-wingers - something many of these people have observed in older people, in their parents, but believe will simply not happen to them on account of having good intentions and progressive views, which they think means they dont need to watch themselves for impulsive, reactionary thinking, and even that their kneejerk reaction to anything is automatically the correct one because they themselves are already inherently good. of course it starts with generally inconsequential takes, its not like saying 'the tiles are ugly' automatically makes you a right-winger, but i reckon the festering of such modes of thinking shows the cracks in the foundation of many peoples professed political and social beliefs.

point being, i think there certainly are discussions to be had about the ways architecture - both as a tool that serves a material need and a form of art - changes, and what we may be losing to capitalist priorities on that front, but if the only argument people are making are "its ugly and degenerates our once beautiful culture" and their defense to anyone addressing how that sounds ends at "well its still ugly!", im thinking that kind of reactionary opinion-forming is going to seep into other, more important matters sooner than they may think. sorry for the long ask!

yeah i mean i definitely don't think this is a new problem or a generational one, it's just liberal idealism, but yes this is exactly why this type of aesthetic discourse irritates me so much lol. like i've said this before in regards to clothing but aesthetic signifiers gain their meaning in a social context and conditionally. if your analysis is "it's ugly and therefore bad" you're not only attenuating an actual read of what's being signified and why, you're also just veering directly into the most boring ass "everything is worse now and change threatens me" conservatism. the idea that ugliness and beauty are not transhistorical or transcendental truths should ideally be like, a starting point to both questioning other socially mediated constructs and to then moving toward a theory of asethetics as products of social discourses and economic conditions but instead people just cannot ever fucking resist yelling about how much beige or concrete or whatever the fuck is "soulless" or "lacks artistry" agabshxhsg it's so fucking cornball. get over yourself

#aesthetics

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minispidey · 1 year ago

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Hey - you said repeaters welcome so here I am 💅

If you’ve watched Scenes from a Marriage, I need ya thots /HC for Levy:

BEST FRIEND.

Jonathan Levy x f!reader.

Warnings: mentions toxic relationship, mentions cheating, does this count as cheating too?, angst, smut, fluff, swearing.

Requested by: @boredzillenial

Author's Note: bestie the gif u send is so MWAH cheeky beefy oscar isaac ass 🤭 if u dont mind, i added in a small story line because u swear this man deserves better. mira fucked him up smh (tbh i have no idea what im writing have mercy on me)

Summary: you're Jonathan Levy's best friend, always been in love with him even after he got married. But then it crumbles down and you proved that you treat him better.

MINORS DNI

My immediate thought is like: oh childhood besties with Jonathan instead of the usual teacher-student relationship. I think it adds more drama, you know?

Imagine being so in love with this man for years, but he's blind. He marries Mira and to add salt to the wound you were his best man, or rather best woman. Holding in tears because you thought to yourself 'Surely, I'd move on.'

You two grow up, still closer and you watched him make a family of his own while you work a decent job and end up drinking at the end of the day. Partners come and go, but none of them made you feel the same way Jonathan did. And Jonathan barely did shit.

You knew it was wrong pining for a married man, but you hoped some day Jonathan sees that Mira treats him like shit. You didn't want to upset him since you're his best friend. The one person who knew everything about him even after setting boundaries since he got married.

Were you surprised when Jonathan calls you over and tells you Mira cheated on him? Of course not. You called up a babysitter for Ava and went to hit up a bar, drowning in his sadness.

"What does she have that keeps you... I don't know... loving her? What's so different that you keep crawling back to her."

He couldn't reply. Jonathan stared at you, remembering all the times you two talked— the ones where he's always ranting about his married life, the struggles and the stress. You always just sat there and listened to him. You never straight out voiced your opinion about Mira.

"What else do you think of her?"

"She's a bitch. I mean seriously, you two have a daughter and she pulls this shit. Anyone— and I mean everyone can treat you better than she does."

You always did speak the truth when you're drunk. So this was different.

"You packed her shit too. If I were you, I would've burned everything she owned. Did I ever tell you of the ex boyfriend I had? Changed his shampoo to hair remover."

"That's a bit extreme."

"Your face is a bit extreme."

You always knew just how to make him laugh, even with childish insults. No words were exchanged between the two of you, Jonathan stared at you, scanning your features. Something about you was different. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he's just barely tipsy.

Next thing he knew, he kissed you. He realized that he loved you more than a best friend normally did. He was in love.

Even if it took your whole lives, you thanked whoever the fuck made him realize he loved you (me).

In the middle of your kissing session, he pulls away only to take off his glasses, even touching the lenses despite wanting to keep it fingerprint-free.

His daughter's asleep, baby sitter's gone. You two stumbled into his house, lips locked. Jonathan wasted no time getting you into his bedroom (well, him and Mira's bedroom) and taking your clothes off.

Not only was this the perfect revenge, this was a perfect moment. Your wildest dreams finally coming true.

Jonathan fucks— no, he makes love. He's slow, making you feel good. He's definitely a giver. He peppers you non-stop with kisses. You leave scratches and marks on his body. The pleasure is too much. You were happy that night.

The next morning, breakfast in bed and a kiss on your forehead. Clearly, he didn't regret anything from last night. Jonathan really realized he loved you and you loved him.

Let's just say that you practically lived in his house at this point. Mira comes home to find Jonathan fucking you on the kitchen counter.

"You slut-!"

"You can't say shit, you cheated on him you fucking cunt!"

You successfully landed a harsh slap across Mira's face before getting pulled away by Jonathan. He carries you back into his bedroom and he cups your face with a smile.

"Did it feel good?"

"Yeah. Been wanting to do that since she broke the mug I gave you if I'm being honest."

Jonathan kicked Mira out, and you two spent the night making love to each other. Jonathan was right— everything Mira hated about him, you loved. You were absolutely better than her.

Their divorced finalized, and Jonathan got full custody of Ava. You moved in and brought life to their dull house.

For your birthday, he bought you a piano... an expensive one at that. He loved hearing you play.

He's the type to pick you small flowers every day and you have an album filled with pressed flowers. Before you go to work, he would slip a sticky note in your bag and you would find it while working and can't help but smile.

You make his lunches. He's always liked your cooking. You were definitely levels up from pathetic dinner tupperware spaghetti.

You even pack Ava's lunch for school, making notes like

Have a good day, sweetie! I love you ❤️

For Jonathan, it's always confessions of love. Even if at this point you two should be married.

Love you for as long as the stars shine ❤️

He can't help but smile like a fool during lunch. Even brags about the food you make.

He was in the middle of a lesson when he realized he wanted to marry you. As soon as class ended, he sprinted to Tiffany & Co. and bought you a diamond ring that suited you.

He was just utterly in love with you. One day, playing your piano, you looked ethereal that he grabbed the ring and got down on one knee. He just loved you too much.

You two spent the rest of your days more and more in love than that day in the bar along with your children. He couldn't ask for anyone better. You were the one for him, no one else.

#jonathan levy #scenes from a marriage #jonathan levy smut #oscar isaac #minispidey requests

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