#him and his. Motherly tendencies

[catscidr]

cw: emetophobia. mentionned panic attack and intercourse. fluff. hurt/comfort. f!reader. not proofread

“Suguru, can you heat up my microwavable pad?”

“Sugu, can you get me some hair clips?”

“Sugu, can I have water?”

You thought you had it under control; being no stranger to bouts of panic and random waves of nausea, you’ve mastered the art of taking deep breaths and reassuring yourself that the nauseous feeling will eventually pass.

But, as strong as you are, everyone has moments of weakness.

After finally deciding to bite the bullet, you were able to contact a doctor to get a prescription for birth control. From painful period cramps to not wanting to have sex with a condom every time you and Suguru got under the sheets, it felt like the next step to take for your health. You wanted your birth control to help alleviate the cramps that left you bedridden for days and wanted to be able to be intimate with your boyfriend without the stress of possible pregnancy.

All things considered, it’s not like you were completely unaware of the possible side effects of birth control—the infamous pamphlet that could serve as a blanket is pretty hard to miss when you first unbox your prescription.

You’ve spoken to your girlfriends about how nervous you were to start birth control, and they were all as understanding and sweet as one would expect.

After a short pep talk with yourself and your bathroom mirror, you put the patch on your arm and were officially part of the twinkie crew, formerly a toaster strudel.

…in a couple of days. Your doctor informed you to avoid having intercourse without protection for at least five days to let your body acclimate itself to the hormones flowing through you thanks to the patch on your arm.

So now, instead of having a productive afternoon, you’re sat on the cold wooden floor of your bedroom with an empty bucket across of you alongside a cardboard box you meant to throw out that now serves as a makeshift table.

“Here you are, darling.” Suguru places the glass of water on your ‘table’, silently watching how you’re holding up. His gaze lingers on the small patch on your arm, anger boiling in his gut because how dare this piece of rubber hurt my girlfriend like this, but he holds off on removing your source of pain directly knowing that it'd do more harm than good. “How do you feel now?”

You can sense his eyes on you, but you feel so ashamed of yourself for being so panicky over vomiting that you refuse to sit up from your position, all hunched over your plastic emotional support bucket. “Still gross. M’ face feels... tingly.”

He crouches beside you, gently rubbing your back to soothe you. “Do you need me to get you anything else?”

You shake your head after a second of thought, busy focusing on your self-acupuncture massage on the insides of your wrists to think of whatever else could aid your discomfort.

Observing you, Suguru sighs lightly. He sits down on the ground properly and takes ahold of one of your arms himself to replace your thumb with his. Rubbing gentle but firm circles into your tendon, he applies light pressure, and watches your brows furrow in discomfort then relax ever so slightly.

“Focus on calming your heart rate, baby. Can you do that for me? Deep breaths,” he hums softly. Nodding weakly, you try to inhale slowly but a wave of nausea hits you. Your forehead bonks the edge of the bucket and you begin to—almost—hyperventilate.

Your face feels hot, you feel pressure building up your throat and you're shaking like a leaf. “Don’t look at me,” you whimper, weakly pushing Suguru’s face to look off to the side. He ignores your plea and brushes a stray lock of hair away from your face, gently tucking it behind your ear.

“You’re okay,” he muses. “This’ll pass like it always has. The nausea you feel isn’t any different from other times you’ve felt like throwing up; you always ended up fine.“ Suguru stops massaging your arm and places his hand on your cheek. You lean into him, feeling a wave of comfort come from your chest as you keen at the cold touch of his palm.

The corners of his lips curl upward. “Can you swallow?” he asks, bending down to take a proper look at your face.

You try, straightening your back and taking a deep breath before swallowing your saliva. Suguru hums, whispering a quiet good, relieved that you're able to cooperate.

“You know, my mom used to tell me that, if I ever felt nauseous, I should try swallowing. If I was physically able to swallow, then I would be fine.” He rubs his thumb over the apples of your cheek gently, watching your eyes crack open. “There’s my girl,” he hums with a smile.

Nuzzling into his palm, you groan quietly. "Don't look at me, I look gross," you huff. Through the anxiety and nausea, your heart swells at how attentive and patient Suguru is.

The sound of the television in the living room sounds distant from your little bubble with Suguru, lost in whatever trance he held you in. "You're okay," he reassures. "How do you feel now?"

Swallowing once again, you take a deep breath and adjust the heated pad on your abdomen. You take a minute to feel, repeating Suguru's comforting words in your groggy mind.

"I feel... decent," you murmur. "Better."

His shoulders visibly lose tension as he smiles, and he leans forward to press a soft but lingering kiss to your forehead.

"That's what I like to hear. Can you stand?"

Part of you wants to shake your head, to stay sat on the ground and wallow in your despair because Gods your legs felt so numb, but you'd much rather be in Suguru's company than to be left alone with your own thoughts.

You nod, and ever the gentleman, your boyfriend loops your arm around his shoulder to help you stand up. Though your legs are wobbly, he keeps you upright, guiding you to the living room couch.

"Pick out something to watch," he says. "I'll be back with some crackers and your bucket, just in case. Any special requests?"

Leaning back into the cushions, you shake your head as you sigh, content. "No. Jus' need you with me," you hum.

As Suguru flashes you an award winning smile, he eases your worries with the same smooth voice that greets your eardrums every day. "I'll always stay with you, princess."

And you shut your eyes, comforted with the knowledge that, no matter how gross you may feel or how sickly you may be, Suguru won't ever leave your side.

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

Ways I can think of that “DanDaDan” differs from other shonen series:

* Female MC is as important as male MC

* Canon romance gets consistent development through the series. I think that’s part of the reason why the MC ships with the rivals (Aira, Jiji) aren’t as popular with the fandom for once. The main ship is actually getting good development, so the fanbase doesn’t have to make up headcanons to fill in the space.

* Flips the found family trope on its head by having the main group despise new people whenever they show up and they even actively try to kick them out. The new people only end up staying because they keep lingering around to the point that the main group just gives up and lets them stay.

* The rivals aren’t emo or angst-ridden. Aira is a delusional tryhard popular girl while Jiji is a himbo drama queen. I’d even go as far to say that the MCs are the ones who are emo and angst-ridden.

* Supporting cast is more than just important, they become integral to the story. I’d say that the further you read into DanDaDan, the more it becomes an ensemble cast where everyone is a protagonist in their own right.

* World-building is all over the place, but in a good way. Most other shonen are pretty consistent with what kind of world their characters live in. MHA is superhero-based, Naruto is ninjas and magic, Bleach is spirits, and so on. DanDaDan feels like the author just throws whatever cool shit they can think of into the story. That’s actually the reason why I wrote in a different post that DanDaDan reminds me more of Marvel/DC than any other shonen series, it manages to capture the catch-all insanity of those comics.

* Doesn’t rely on hidden power-ups. The main characters either have to outsmart the villains or they have to train to get better with the powers they already have.

* The pervert comic relief guy is actually endearing for once. Not because of his pervert tendencies, but because he’s so oblivious to how socially inept he is that it’s kind of funny. This is gonna sound strange, but he sorta reminds me of Thor in Thor Ragnarok. Full of himself and oblivious to how dumb he can be. He’s Thor without the good looks lol.

* Flips the “nerdy outcast loser somehow gets a harem” trope. Instead of making Okarun cooler than how he actually is, the story emphasizes that the women who fall for Okarun are as weird as him. Momo is a weird outcast, Aira has main character syndrome, Vamola doesn’t understand how to human because she’s literally not one, Rin thought Okarun was a vampire (and wanted him to be).

* Flips the “elderly figure in charge of the teenagers” trope. I don’t really get motherly figure vibes from Seiko Ayase, I get more “cool wine aunt who is stuck with her niece” vibes. In fact, there was the arc where Okarun showed up to her in spirit mode to get her help with fighting off the alien invasion and Seiko’s response was, “Well, I’m not in the area and I have other shit to do, so you kids figure it out.”

* The series takes the piss out of the trope of mystical/magical items that the group acquired to get their powers. I mean…the main mystical MacGuffin in the series are Okarun’s balls.

* Okarun was about to go into an “I’m weak / I wish I was stronger / I want to get stronger for my friends” breakdown, but Turbo Granny told him to shut up and keep fighting.

* Not afraid to put the “cool girl” in as many funny situations as possible. Off the top of my head, the series built up Momo as this cool, tough girl who doesn’t take shit from anyone…then several chapters later, Okarun found out she got a job at a maid cafe.

(Feel free to add to the list!)

[lady-ashfade]

Hi! I loved your comfort goddess post! If your still taking requests, could you do one where Fem! Motherly Goddess reader is the wife of Ares and watches over his children with intense care. Especially Clarissa (if your comfortable with adding a dash of favoritism with Clarissa lol). And the Ares kids are possessive of their Motherly Goddess even though she literally only cares for them at the camp and how the other campers see this. ^^ thank you!!

Divine Mother

Yandere Ares!Cabin x Stepmother!Goddess!reader. (Platonic!!)

-£ Warnings: Yandere Tendencies, Reader taking care of her child, Cheating, Obsession, Jealousy, Fighting.

Many centuries ago you had be punished for your husbands doings.

Ares had upset Hephaestus by having a affair with his wife, Aphrodite. and you knew your husbands actions but you cared little about them, because his attention wasn’t on you. and you didn’t hate Aphrodite for it and you actually liked her, even had tea meetings with her at times.

Hephaestus was so upset he was going crazy in anger, so Zeus needed to punish his son. And that meant with you because he knew how much his son cared for you. So, you were sent to watch over the demo gods with Dionysus.

You spent years caring for all the children of your family and cared for them.

And for centuries it was Ares kids who took up most of your time. Their anger and hotheaded nature made your attention be placed on them mostly.

No matter what time it was, your husbands children need something.

When Clarisse came in things took a heavy turn. They became more needy and clingy to you that you constantly had to break fights they had started.

They seek your praise more then their fathers.

Asking for your blessing each capture of the flag, every fight, every mission, anything they need.

“Did you see that?” One of the younger children ran up to you with armor half the size of himself. “I would have killed him if it wasn’t a dummy.” You just patted his head and gave him the slight bit of praise.

But, Clarisse. She was at your side almost always. Even fighting with her siblings for you and she didn’t care. She was better then them.

When Percy arrived at camp she couldn’t believe her ears when you agreed with the stories of him killing the minotaur. how dare he? he wasn’t special and worth nothing to have you talk about him.

she hated him so much more and wanted nothing more then to have him say he was lying so she could drag him to you. and have him bow at your feet to apologize.

He was a fake.

Any bad emotions you could sense them. So when you felt a overwhelming sense in the bathrooms in camp you followed to find out what was happening. That’s when heard a loud noise.

Rushing in you see three of them on the floor and the new kid in the stall, door broke and water overflowing throughout the place. Clarisse was soaked and looked like she was about to attack him, you knew she was probably causing problems before you came in.

“Clarisse,” Your stern voice echoed through the place and made everyone turn to you and their faces worried. “What did you do?” You glanced at the two beside her as you crossed your arms.

they tried to explain but you grabbed them and started to scold them and take them back to their cabin. a goddess yelling at you was scary. and having the one who is know for her calmness was even scarier.

the whole cabin was out for Percy when capture of the flag came but Clarisse and her team were going for him. he made them look like fools in front of their mother? he was a dead man.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Weasley Siblings Reacting To You Saying You Are Pregnant

Writing Comission’s Are Open

William ‘Bill’

“Excuse me-?” He was left practically speechless, when he picked up the onesie on his bedside table. A little blue thing, with the words To The Moon And Back. He was so full of emotions. Panic, excitement, horror, joy. Would the baby inherit his wolf tendencies? Would something go wrong, because of his bad blood? He was so scared. Would you be in danger, because of him? With his eyes turning to you, and seeing that excited smile, he couldn’t help but calm down. Teddy existed after all, didn’t he? He was as fine as he could be. The idea of holding his own little ball of joy. To see that orange hair, and watch you nurse. “I’m going to be a dad….” He trailed, with a smile. “I’m going to be a dad-“ He repeated, as he would hold the little sleep wear to his chest. Tears ran down his broken cheeks, as he kept reacting it. So full of pride. He’s going to be a dad, with you.

Charlie

“IM GONNA BE A DAD-!” He was screaming, bloody damn murder, as he was running around at the sanctuary. Screaming it with pride, as you chased after him. Just laughing, as the dragons would lift up their heads. “IM A DAD IM A DAD IM A DAD-!” He keeps roaring, as the dragons would tilt their heads. Watching their motherly figure jump for joy. Literally. “Charlie-!” You laughed, as he was just to full of excitement. Laughing, cheering, and crying. That’s when one of the older mothers would grab him by the collar. Yanking him into the air, before plopping him right next to you. As if to convey that he better step up now. That had you laugh, as he pouted at her. “I am I am-!” He said, before he was on his knees. Holding your belly. “I’m gonna be your daddy-!” He squealed, as he kissed it over. All the excitement getting the new borns curious, but those mothers made sure they didn’t get to close. Letting him have his moment. A new baby, to join the herd.

Percy

“You cannot be serious-“ Percy was blinking, as he had hardly taken two steps through the fire place. Just gotten off work, early for once, only to be surprised by you making a baby box. It was meant to be a surprise, and something you would give to him after dinner. Seems like he was still surprised, regardless. “Who had the baby this time-?” He asked, as he would set his belongings where they were designated. That had you snort, as it didn’t quite dawn on him yet. With the fact you didn’t say anything, he turned around. “Honey?” He asked again, as you keep smiling. Slowly, the gears turned, before he was left with his cloak dropped from his hands. It was him. He didn’t expect that. Was like the last one to join the family gang. He couldn’t help his worry. He didn’t exactly grow up to well. He wasn’t to well connected with his family, and only came around when it was almost to late. He didn’t want that to happen to his kid. To have such a divide. You could tell he was worried, and patted the seat next to you. He joined, and you would kiss his head. “Who do you wanna tell first?” You asked, as he held your hand. The name he said, reassured himself that this kid won’t have that tension. Not like what he made. “George is perfect.” Another kiss to his head, as the plans were made. A big and happy family.

Fred

The words barley left your lips, before you were tossed over his shoulder. As quickly as you were tossed, you were soon hearing the noise of the busy shop. "HEY EVERYONE!" He shouted, causing everyone to look up at one of the railings. George as well, with curious eyes all the same. "IM GONNA BE A DAD, AND GEORGE IS GONNA BE A UNCLE!" He cheered, and everyone was a roar of cheers as well. George was quick to drop what he was doing, and soon aparate next to him. "Put your damn mother to be down!" He laughed, as Fred finally set you down. All three of you in a warm, and tight, hug. "i'm gonna be a uncle!" George cheered, as you laughed. You had to wonder who was more excited for the baby. Your husband, or his twin? It did not matter to you. They were both so happy for this wonderful news. They just could not let you go, as they were just laughing in joy. Children. More children. What could make them hate that?

George

"Pregnant?" He whispered, as he almost looked like he would burst into tears. "I heard that right, didn't I?" He asked, as he felt over the scarred skin that was once his ear. You nodded, before you held up your hands. You could not grasp sign as fast as George did, but you knew the alphabet. P.R.E.G.N.A.N.T. Pregnant. He was soon tackling you, as he was sobbing into your shoulder. "I'm going to be a dad-" He sobbed, as you rubbed his back. Some joy, in his world of darkness. You had fallen pregnant, not long after the death of Voldemort. Made senes, since the stress was gone. For you, anyway. "Jellybean....If its a boy...." You would peck his cheek, and nod. "A boy, Fred. If a girl, Fredrick works as a beautiful middle name." You comforted, getting another hiccup in return. The world was moving on, but the world will not be forgotten. Fred lived on, and hes going to be your tiny terror. How excited you two were, for it.

Ron

“No-“ He gasped. “Really-? No-! Are you-? No-“ Was like he was trapped in a loop, as he now paced around your living room. Looking at you, before looking at his feet, then repeating. As if every time he made a full pace, he turned. You had to admit, was pretty adorable. Figured news like this would make your Auror husband short circuit a bit. You let him pace, with a smile. Just grinning, as he was trying to register it all. Suppose work fatigue makes anyone’s brain mush. Especially a job like his. You would watch him pace, until his brain was finally registering that YEP you are indeed pregnant. “Bloody hell….IM GONNA BE A DAD-!” His face was beaming, before he was stealing you into his arms. He was exhausted, but not tired enough to not huggle and cuddle. “We need to tells ‘Mione and Harry-! Oh those two will be so excited-!” He beams. Uncle Harry and Auntie Hermione. He was going to crush you, you swore, if he kept being so happy. “Blimey, guess that over time is finally coming in handy.” You hated his over time, but he had a point. Now you two had a secure start. That had you relax a little more. “Hope Harry doesn’t mine if I slow down on my career a little.” You would stroke his hair, and pecked his cheek. “He’s Harry. I’m doubtful he will be made you want to not be dead on a side walk, and leave me a single parent.” You snorted. “Yeah, probably doesn’t want history repeating.” Morbid, but point proven. “Gonna be a dad-“ He kept smiling, as he pulled you into his lap. Unable to stop holding you close. He was so happy, and you were all the same. Your family.

Ginny

“SHUT UP-!” She gasped, as she was looking towards the Quidditch stands. No way was she seeing what she was seeing. Your wife just won the first game of the season, and she was looking straight at you. In the VIP seats, and holding up a sign. I’m Pregnant. In bold and colorful letters, so she couldn’t miss it. “NO WAY-!” Ginny kept screaming, as her team mates looked over, as they were shaking hands with the enemy team. “What’s up?!” One of them asked. “IM GONNA BE A MUM-!” Ginny cheered, as that had all the broomstick flyers stare towards where her eyes looked. “CONGRATS-!” The enemy seeker said, with a clap. Good sportsmanship. “IM GONNA BE A MUM-!” What a way to start her quidditch season. The first win, and the fact she’s going to be a mom. “Well, go and fly over-!” A team mate smacked her back, and she wasn’t needed to told twice. The fans went nuts, with famous Quidditch Star Ginny Weasley was flying towards the stands. Right to you, and nearly tackling you down in the box. The fellow VIP seaters clapped for you two, as she planted a big kiss on you. Tears in the corner of her eyes, as she hugged you tightly. “You knew I would win, didn’t you?” She asked. “No, but I mean what better way to recover from a loss?” That had her smack your shoulder, but she was soon was wiping her eyes on her gloves. “Oh fuck, look at me. Crying like a girl-“ She joked, as she sniffled. She was so happy, and you were as well. She just couldn’t contain her joy. Her, you, and your own little precious snitch. What more could a girl want?

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Pressure ask.

Sebastian finds reader, who’s a small baby shark with four legs (think Jeff the land shark from Marvel). Like the anglers they can breathe above water and have little trouble surviving up there. They constantly follow after people including him, and even protect expendables from other hostile entities

It didn't surprise Sebastian that the experiments he set free came in all shapes and sizes.

But...

He wasn't expecting something like you, a tiny shark pup with four legs, to be locked away in a heavy containment unit, of all things.

Yet here you were, waddling around while the rest of the experiments began their slaughter of the Blacksite personnel, occasionally feasting on remains to sustain your hunger.

Looks like Urbanshade didn't just test sharks for the B.U.P.W.M trials, but decided to make their offspring little doglike companions.

He eventually found your file in the hands of the deceased director of that program, and sure enough he discovers that was exactly why you were created.

Like Imaginary Friend, you were made to be a companion for the lonely.

But unlike her, you were very much real.

And soon Sebastian finds himself caring for you--not that he has much of a choice.....you're always following him around and made yourself a nice bedding in his shop.

Occasionally, you'd run out into the blacksite to accompany expendables.

HQ always tells them to ignore your presence but that's nearly impossible with how much attention most give you.

Your tendency to growl at approaching Wall Dwellers spared many from becoming another snack--although at times you'd chase the creatures for several rooms until you came back with pieces of their flesh to share.

You'd also bark and snarl at doors with Z-96 behind them, in which Painter calls you a "bad dog" (but he secretly finds you cute).

Since you're also a bull shark, Eyefestation lowkey gets motherly instincts if she spots you in a room with expendables, so she'll avoid harming any of you with radiation.

The second you scurry off somewhere else though, she doesn't hold back.

[gildedpomegranates]

Ideas for Season 2 I Would've Liked to See/Explored More:

Ambessa explicitly acting as a motherly figure to manipulate Cait, who's grieving a mother. Especially since Cait had a complicated relationship with her mom, centered around Cassandra being overly protective/unsupportive of her choices, with Ambessa being everything her mom wasn't.

Jinx and her relationship with Zaun. In s1, she doesn't have much of one due to isolation (encouraged by Silco as well as self-imposed), other than the fear and discomfort she inspires. She doesn't have to become a revolutionary (although its odd that there was so much marketing and set-up for it), but at least explore that. People who love her, people who blame her for Piltover's retaliation, people who are unsure. This could also be a great chance to establish more about in-universe Jinx and Ekko, since Ekko's character is very centered around the people of Zaun.

Vi as a person. Having a chance to explore who she is outside of being a sister-mother and a prisoner. Struggling with making choices for herself as someone either completely robbed of them (as a prisoner) or who couldn't afford to make selfish choices (as a caregiver). Exploring her immense untouched trauma, as well as her relationship to Zaun. Her guilt as an enforcer possibly causing her to double-down in support of the revolution, maybe by joining the Firelights and supporting Ekko.

In a similar vein, Jinx as a person. She's established as a character that latches onto one person (her main caregiver) and has a tendency to absorb parts of that person (morals, behaviors, etc). I would've loved to see her without a main person, possibly as a parallel to Vi. Vi discovers who she is without someone to protect while Jinx discovers who she is without someone protecting her.

Cait and Jayce's relationship. It was completely thrown to the wayside. Overall, s2 tended to sideline platonic and familial relationships for romantic ones.

Ekko as a person outside of his relationships to other characters. We know like? Nothing about him and his time during the time skip in s1. Does he like being a leader? Does he not know how to define himself outside of being one? Does he resent being forced into the role and having to grow up way too fast? A combination of all of the above? How long has he been the leader? Was it him alone that established the Firelights, or were there originally older rebels that passed long ago, leaving only him? Like please, let him be a character. I know people joke about him being perfect and universally unproblematic, but a lot of that is because they don't give him enough screen time or any realistic flaws or let him organically develop beyond being a plot device.

Jinx and Ekko's relationship. This doesn't have to be romantic, just them and their in-universe dynamic please. At the end of s1, we had this big moment where Ekko, who had been coping with it by insisting Powder was dead, realizes that Jinx is just grown-up Powder, and that he can't kill her. s2 then does nothing with this, fobbing him off into an alternate universe with an alternate Powder. I would've loved to see Jinx and Ekko struggling to work together, getting to know each other in a capacity other than enemies. Ekko emulating Vander's 'we don't give up our own people' and protecting Jinx from Piltover despite his better judgement.

Y'know what? Ekko and Sevika. Both two people desperately fighting for Zaun, in two wildly different ways. I would've loved to see them interact. They probably would've gotten into a fist fight, but just imagine the Ekko-Sevika-Jinx power trio heading the revolution.

The Wolf vs the Fox. Mel as a formidable politician, working in the shadows to undermine her mother. Her putting everything she's learned in Piltover to use, weaponizing the lessons learned from her banishment. If they were so desperate to include the Black Rose plotline, they could maybe have Mel becoming obsessed with protecting Piltover from her mother and going so far as to ally with her brother's killers.

[marsmaximoff]

🥀; the other side of the coin 𓇢𓆸 𐦍

content warning: wife!reader. angst. cheating. i do not specify which emperor you're with, as the situation applies to both. so feel free to choose the one you prefer. anticlimactic ending, kinda?

word count: 480

author's note: i had this idea in bed, before falling asleep. i've tried to use a fitting english given the time period, but i don’t know if i succeeded. it is my third language so i’m sorry for the mistakes. constructive criticism is welcomed. happy 2025 everyone!!!!! enjoyy 🩷🩵

“are you well?” her tone of voice, caring as it constantly is with me, now carries a hint of worry.

“why? what happened?” lucilla sits by my side on the golden divan. “nothing. just in general.” “do i not look well? is it my eye bags? am i wrinkling?” the last thing i need is having to sit through more of those comments about my sorrowful appearance not meeting my status. ‘for the wife of the emperor must appear graceful, delighted, along with content at all occasions’. a symbol of my luck and my gratitude for it.

“you look beautiful, as always.” “don’t scare me like that.” the question, though inoffensive, had not failed to unease me. “you’re more than a face, you know.” a scoff leaves my mouth, “in this palace?” however, as i dwell on it, i realize the truth of such comment. “i am a face and a body.”

we hold hands, a motherly gesture i am so accustomed to. despite not being her daughter, i cannot think of a single day she has not treated me like one.

“how are you dealing with your husband’s…. lustful tendencies?” she has always been quite an outspoken woman, the query amuses me. “you’re saying that like i didn’t know it before marrying him.” i was warned right at the very beginning, the emperors' carnal nature being one of my first lessons. and yet, “it hurts.” her gaze reveals pity and compassion. “i don’t know why.” oh, but i do. i just hate admitting it. besides, such cravings must be kept to oneself.

the soft caress of her thumbs grounds me. a silent reassurance, an invitation to confide. i decide to take advantage of our solitude and finally pour my heart out. “i guess i wanted my husband to stay loyal to me.” what an absurd thought for an empress. “as childish as it sounds”, i add, aware of my impossible desire. i am conscious of his affection. he loves me, in his own way, that is. at the end of the day, solely one person cannot provide it all. right? it is merely a custom; i am no one to judge.

“i am happy for you.” never jealous. only slightly envious, perhaps. “your relationship with the general looks… real.” memories surround me, and i recall all those times he has come back from his victorious missions with her as his only concern. not the emperors, or the people. not even the following conquests. her alone. meeting his wife after so long. spending time together. “genuine.” the way his eyes sparkle when she is around -as if she were the only woman in the world-, the warmth that envelopes their conversations, and his chivalrous behavior only those who love someone so tenderly have mastered.

“i’m happy there’s at least someone in this damned palace that gets to know true love.”

[loveamongdragons]

I've been thinking about what sort of conflicts Zuko and Katara would realistically have if they ever ended up together. I mostly either see fan interpretations where they bicker a lot, or where they have total understanding between each other, but I don't think that either would be the case.

So, first of all, the typical enemies-to-lovers who bicker all the time to hide the sexual tension trope is just not about Zutara: in the latter part of book 3, we see their wholesome and understanding relationship, and we can safely assume that this is what the basis of their bond will be going on forward.

However.

Conflicts happen, and especially if we are talking about a Katara that emerges from a long-term relationship with Aang, I think we will have two pitfalls she'd be frequently running into:

Trying to mother Zuko out of habit. Bonus points if she did not do it prior to them entering a relationship and then suddenly started doing so. Katara has been parentified, and she is used to playing the motherly persona for her partner - something that might cause Zuko to feel infantilized, leading to anger. Or: he might feel that he can't get through to Katara, and that she is acting not as herself, causing some sort of frustration he'd have no word for.

suddenly not voicing her opinion when she disagrees with him, out of fear that he'd bolt. Only applies if Katara emerged from a really long relationship with Aang where this continued to be an issue throughout the years, and it's admittedly less likely than the first one. Still, I can see a Katara hiding her thoughts out of habit, getting subconsciously angry about it, Zuko getting angry too because he feels that some sort of tension is in the air, and that Katara is more on edge than usual, and not understanding what the issue is.

On the other hand, we'd have Zuko misinterpreting innocuous phrases, especially if he emerged from a long-term relationship with Mai (who, let's admit it, tends to leave a lot of barbed comments).

So, we might have a Zuko who hides behind a wall due to suddenly feeling inadequate or despised, and Katara, understandably, not getting what the deal was. Bonus points if it triggers a trauma reaction in Katara due to memories of Aang bolting and leaving her.

We might also have a Zuko who got used to others not giving a lick of care regarding what he does and where he goes, and thus failing to communicate his plans properly, causing (again, understandably) anger in Katara. Again, bonus points if it reminds her of Aang's tendency to disappear.

Let me be clear: none of these would be relationship-breaking, and with how much trust and intimacy there is between them, I fully believe that they'd be able to sort it out. But especially at the beginning of a relationship, I believe that these issues would keep tailing them. In time, it would probably evolve into comments like "you're doing this thing again" and "ah... yes... sorry, my bad."

[brights-place]

Hii! If it’s okay, could I please request some hcs of Leif from MID with a motherly s/o?

The reader doesn’t have to be female, I just think that he deserves a nurturing partner after all that childhood trauma

Lief X Motherly! Reader

Pairings: Leif X Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Some angsty shit, mentions of Murder, Cursing A/N: Dude I can't agree more that Lief deserves someone to nurture him LIKE OMLLLLLLLLL! this man when Rhys and him had the argument and leif said "your not the only one who tells me that" I was so shocked - Leif had like a really SHITTY PAST DUDE - You were Ava's neighbor so you wanted to greet her the day after her interview - So having you be there makes him so confused how could you handle him? how could you handle his personality - Leif is a bit feisty but also very bold when it comes to things and leif can be shown to be slightly challenging and quick to assume things such as him instantly assuming Ava your BFF was dead when she was found to be unconscious. - Leif was shown to be dangerous as shown by the many threats towards Ava's life... yet you showed cared for him? you wrapped up him whenever he got hurt and would scold him - He first got pissed at you and thought you were challenging him on his healing abilities - but you were showing him kindness which most daemos find weak - You took care of Ava properly and made sure she was fine and all the daemos men called you Ava's head Lady in Waiting  - You were there in the morning helped and fixed her place as you took care of her. Ava saw you as a mother figure yes she has her own parents but having you was nice - You cared for her and showed her motherly attention and when you tried to show the other daemos that care - Violent tendencies come to him so he pulls out his sickles and would try to charge at someone so you have to restrain him the most and he gets pissy

- When Leif came across you he was immediately struck by your warm and comforting presence. - When someone gets your attention he gets defensive and would try get your attention back onto him - he has abandonment issues so he likes to be by your side but he doesn't speak up about it at all for example Ava was explaining how to put on the clothes for the others - You know how he likes poking ava with you its even worse he pokes but sometimes likes to touch diffrent parts of your bodies randomly. You could be washing dishes and he would pop up behind you touching your waist an then try to scold him but he's always far away - Even as a healer he finds it annoying how you try to patch him up - He likes to sharpen his sickles and shows it off to you as you just make sure he is alright - He likes to talk about him being a ex-assassin and flezes it as you tell him how cruel it was as he just stares at you - Believe it or not Leif respects you more than anyone in this world aka earth I mean- have you seen yourself? but he says he doesn't respect anyone - The group saw you punch a guy who tried to touch you and ava inappropriately due to being drunk the guy passed out with a singular punch - You gained their respect but when leif tried to join in on punching the male you dragged his ass away - he started to like you after awhile and would flirtatiously threaten you as you scold him like always which he enjoys - He smirks alot and I mean alot but he enjoys staring at you when you do things - You asked him about his past and he was hesitant and you apologized and told him when he was ready he told you anyway as you frowned telling him that he didn't deserve that -  you soon pointed out to him that distracting himself from his trauma by focusing all of his energy into his work killing started to become recreational for him as it was the only mechanism that could relieve emotional pain. - he became so dependent on bloodshed to keep him mentally stable almost as if it were an addiction - Leif would look away and scoff and tries to tell you off as you deadpan at him with an look 'Bro I know' - You give him ideas on how to relax himself as you give him plants for him to take care of due to noticing when you brought a plant to give to Ava he wouldn't stop staring at it - So you give him these plants to look after and explain they need light and water - He flexes it and says it was 'special' cause he tried to repeat all the facts you say about them so he seems smart - so when he watched one die after a couple of days he freaks out and rushes to ava demanding her to summon you cause you weren't there due to you being at work - You got off work and explained to Leif that it died due to not being taken care of so he makes sure to ask if he's doing stuff correctly which makes you confused how he is so calm - He has a short patience and would go off at a moment not like Asch but still has a short temper - threatens Ava for him to hangout at your apartment whenever you try to leave as Ava panics as you tell Leif to stop - You tell him that your just next door and come by whenever and he starts becoming an annoying pest - Ava would drag Leif to your place as others complain as Ava tells them to shut up as Ava knocks on your door as you open the door with a tired look wearing a face mask and your Pajamas wearing duck slippers and baggy sweatpants and a white shirt with a goose holding a knife in its mouth with bubbly words 'Peace was never the option' above it as Leif smirked at you.

- A sigh past your lips as Ava left to go to bed and leif entereed your apartment as you motioned for him to sleep on your bed as you were heading to the couch - This mother fucker decided to pull you into the bed and tell you to just sleep here as you warn him if he breaks anything your gonna tell ava - You fell asleep drooling onto bed unaware the leif clinged onto you enjoying the warmth you shared - it was weird how someone as caring and nurturing as you were caring for a blood thirsty ex-assassin - In the moments that you both have interacted with each other Leif felt something that he hadn't in a long time... Comfort

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[house-of-evenmoor]

la danse macabre

Hello everyone! I am Meg (she/her) and I am the author of The House of Evenmoor.

The House of Evenmoor is a work-in-progress interactive CYOA novel with mystery, horror, and psychological thriller/horror themes.

It is inspired greatly by the "classic" gothic literature of Edgar Allan Poe, Mary Shelley, Bram Stoker, and H.P. Lovecraft, among others, as well as media such as Crimson Peak.

Please note that this story may contain certain elements, storylines, events, and topics that may be triggering to some readers. Reader discretion is advised. A full list will be available before reading.

Rated 18+ for language, death, murder, gore, etc.

You play an amnesiac who wakes up to find themselves locked in an 18th century manor belonging to the mysterious Evenmoor family. You find that there are 11 other people who are in the same situation you find yourself in. You remember nothing about yourself, except for a name, which you take on as your own.

With little to no memory between all of you and an excruciating headache that occurs when you try to remember, you all try to search around the house to find an exit. The doors and windows are all bolted shut and the glass panes are unbreakable. Outside is a thick wall of dense fog. You're not even able to tell if it's night or day, much less where you are.

As you investigate around the house, you start to uncover clues that reveal the real secrets behind the house and the Evenmoors. But it's not that simple as you and your companions are being actively hunted by a strange supernatural force and entity. As members of your group are picked off, more of the manor is slowly revealed and, while being investigated, more pieces of lost memories come back to you and others, as well as the knowledge of how to potentially leave the manor.

Will you be able to escape with your group unscathed and with your memories or will you become yet another permanent member of the House of Evenmoor?

Play as a male or female. Choose to be straight, gay, bisexual, or even asexual.

Customize your character including your name, appearance, and personality.

Romance 1 of 6 options or none at all.

Bond with the 11 other people trapped in the house with you and find out their stories.

Investigate the mysterious Evenmoor House. Uncover long lost clues and dark secrets.

Discover your long-lost memories and who you are.

Avoid catching the attention of the mysterious supernatural force or the strange entities that reside within the house.

Figure out the truth behind the Evermoors and their strange house.

Main Character - The Amnesiac Truthseeker (he/him) or (she/her)

This is you. You are 25 years old. You remember the least amount of your life before this. You are determined to uncover the truth of the manor and escape. You awake in and are staying in Room Number 6.

Jasper - The Reflective Guardian (he/him)

Jasper is the stoic and brooding person of the group. He is independent and has the tendency to go off and investigate on his own or go into something before everyone else. He often breaks up arguments in the house and seems to have combat experience. He is 27 years old. He is staying in Room Number 1. Romance Option

Vina - The Sensitive Overseer (she/her)

Vina is the caring and motherly person of the group. She doesn't like discord in the group and will leave the room if arguments start. She appears to have experience with medicine and patching up injuries. She is also particularly sensitive to different energies. She is 28 years old. She is staying in Room Number 2.

Edmund - The Aspiring Detective (he/him)

Edmund is the sometimes-bumbling but eager-to-help person of the group. He likes to think himself as a detective and is a bit too excited to search for clues. Despite his conflicting personality, he is actually rather observant and is an adept investigator. He is 26 years old. He is staying in Room Number 3. Romance Option

Beatrice - The Lovelorn Poet (she/her)

Beatrice is the melancholic and pessimistic person of the group. She has the tendency to view things through rose-colored glasses. She spends most of her time in the library or conservatory, composing her poems about heartbreak. She is 27 years old. She is staying in Room Number 4. Romance Option

Hugo - The Obstinate Maverick (he/him)

Hugo is the irritable and instigating person of the group. He is a realist and often picks fights due to his negative views. He prefers to be alone and generally always has a bad attitude. He isn't very helpful either. He appears to be pretty decent with fixing things, though. He is 25 years old. He is staying in Room Number 5.

Laurel - The Enigmatic Huntress (she/her)

Laurel is the surprisingly cheerful and bubbly person in the group. She is very open about what she remembers and what she doesn't. She's also a very friendly person, in general. She appears to have a decent amount of general knowledge. She is 24 years old. She is staying in Room Number 7. Romance Option

Alden - The Fateful Author (they/them)

Alden is the quiet but quick-witted person of the group. They don't speak much, but are happy to assist. They have a journal that they use to take notes in while they're researching. They're also usually found in the library. They are 29 years old. They are staying in Room Number 8.

Ian - The Expert Weaver (he/him)

Ian is the unspoken but de facto leader of the group. He is calm and level-headed. He does his best to keep everyone alive and well. He tends to spend his time near Vina. He appears to have decent experience with textiles and related subjects. He is 30 years old. He is staying in Room Number 9.

Willa - The Skeptic Historian (she/her)

Willa is the resident skeptic of the group. She is very book smart and has a pretty hard time believing in the stranger experiences in the group. She is very honest and is perhaps a bit too blunt. She tends to get into arguments too. She is 25 years old. She is staying in Room Number 10. Romance Option.

Pearl - The Romantic Heiress (she/her)

Pearl is the youngest person in the group and it shows. She's very idealistic and hopeful. She doesn't have many relevant skills or experience and is rather impulsive. She's also very open with what she remembers from before. She is 21 years old. She is staying in Room Number 11.

Cecill - The Tortured Artist (they/them)

Cecill is the prickly and cold person in the group. They're dramatic and aren't very helpful around the house. They spend a surprising amount of time with Beatrice. They also seem to have some kind of connection to the supernatural energies. They are 24 years old. They are staying in Room Number 12. Romance Option

[xiaowhore]

scribbled hearts.

premise. alhaitham learns to stop falling asleep in places that aren't his bed the hard way. (alternatively, in which the librarian doesn't follow the script to wake sleeping beauty.)

Kaveh finds Alhaitham furiously scrubbing his face in the bathroom.

At first, he's absolutely ecstatic. For all that Alhaitham refuses to practice skincare, he's never gotten a zit on his face. An earth-shattering revelation to Kaveh, who maintains a strict nightly skincare routine—he's never gone to sleep without a moisturizing facemask. It's not the most infuriating thing about his roommate, but it annoys him that a guy who only washes his face in the morning has clearer skin than he does.

Is this it? Is Alhaitham receiving retribution at last? Is he finally suffering the consequences of his carelessness?!

But when Kaveh cranes his neck to get a better look at Alhaitham's face, he doesn't see any of the sort.

“Dude...” Kaveh can't even laugh due to sheer incredulity, staring at Alhaitham with a pitying look. Alhaitham thinks it would be less irritating if he just laughed in his face. “Did a third-grader pick on you?”

Alhaitham grits his teeth, wiping the remnants of ink on his face. He's mostly gotten rid of the sparkly anime eyes you drew over his eyelids, but it still looks like a fading black eye. The blush lines on his cheeks are a work in progress, but they'll disappear with some effort.

“They have the maturity of one, at least.”

Alhaitham has met his fair share of librarians—there's the stern, no-nonsense kind he's gotten forehead flicks from every time he's caught dozing off on his thesis paper; the introverted bookish type who stutters as they nervously but firmly tell him off for hogging all the books a certain class needs for a report; the motherly sort who smuggles him coffee in his all-nighters when he looks like death itself...

And then there's you.

Cheekier than his brat of a roommate, you somehow manage to annoy him like nobody else can. He'd rather have you scold him for treating the library as a second bedroom than clip ribbons to his hair whenever you catch him sleeping. Hell, he'd take a skull-shattering forehead flick over doodles on his face any day. But even if he preaches his troubles to anyone willing to listen, they're never sympathetic.

Because for some reason, you're never like this to anyone else.

If anyone at campus were asked to describe you, they'll say you're a model student. Scholarly, courteous, standing tall with dignified grace; you're the perfect picture of a goody-two-shoes. Nothing like the childish brat who terrorizes his nap schedule on a daily basis.

People who have a vendetta against him is nothing new. What he doesn't understand, however, is what he did to be the object of your wrath.

“Maybe [Name] likes you. Kind of like how boys bully the girl they like,” is the ridiculous answer Kaveh gives him, dropping those words like they weigh nothing with a nonchalant shrug. Alhaitham would think it more likely for the reverse to be true; your insistence to dedicate your time into ruining his day is nothing short of admiration—surely a testament to just how much you hate him.

...Okay, so maybe Alhaitham could guess a few things for why. There's been a handful of times (read: it happens at least thrice a week) he kept you stationed at the library longer than you had to be because he fell asleep until closing hours, and he has a tendency to forget returning the materials he borrows for his thesis to the library...

So. Perhaps this was a consequence of his actions after all.

He argues that there are far more mature methods to resolve this issue, though.

Alhaitham stares at the crudely drawn portrait scrawled on his arm, deeply unimpressed. Although he's not one to boast about his looks, he's rather sure he isn't as much of an eyesore as you drew him to be, his nose an exaggerated point (a literal triangle) and his lips wide open as he drools, dangerously close to the rectangles he guesses are supposed to be books. Don't sleep on the reference books!! You'll get drool all over them >:(, reads the scribbled letters beside the portrait, an angry face scrawled haphazardly next to them.

(Still, by the corner of his eye, he spots a cup of his usual order of coffee, a neon pink sticky note pasted on the lid: Wake up and finish your report quickly, I have a show to catch at 8 :>

It would be easier to hate you if being bratty is all there is to your personality, really.)

You scribble all over your notes.

It's a fact Alhaitham has known about you since long ago. Everything else about you is neat and orderly, but every page of your notebook has some sort of doodle on the corners. They range from meticulous side-profiles of whoever sits beside you that day to meaningless hearts and smiley faces akin to what a five-year-old child might make.

If you've chosen to be more artistic for the doodles you draw all over him, perhaps Alhaitham might not mind as much. It's unfortunate you much rather prefer drawing exaggerated tear streaks on his face.

“I'm quite certain this is a form of harassment,” Alhaitham grumbles, rubbing his face with makeup remover. As pointless as it is to express his woes to the cause of said woes, he finds himself seated before the reception desk to keep you company anyway. “I don't understand why you're still doing this.”

“It's a punishment for falling asleep and keeping me holed up in here to guard the library until it closes,” you drone, fixing the library cards. “And yet you still refuse to stop. Is it really so hard to go to the dormitory instead?”

Alhaitham shrugs. A sigh inevitably escapes your lips.

Eventually, you run out of stupid things to draw on his skin whenever you catch him sleeping.

You start to write your shopping list on his arm instead.

“Why on earth would you need three cartons of eggs?” Alhaitham leans against the desk you're stationed at, reading the bulletpoints on his skin.

Eventually, Alhaitham gets used to scrubbing off your vandalism too. It's his personal brand of skincare.

“They're on sale today,” you reply, signing the papers requesting new stocks of books. “And I was planning on baking, so it's better I have plenty of ingredients for trial and error.”

“Sounds heavy,” he hums, eyes scanning the rest of your list. “Want me to come with?”

At that, your pen stops moving. “...Why?”

“I need to buy cereal.”

(No he doesn't. Kaveh went on a grocery run yesterday.)

“Sure, I guess...?” It's an unexpected development, but you wouldn't turn away an extra pair of hands. “Should we get going, then?”

“Yeah.”

You raise an eyebrow. “...But you didn't borrow a book today yet. Aren't you getting anything first?”

Alhaitham looks around. “The book I wanted isn't here, so I suppose I still have to wait a few days for it.”

“What is it?” You click your pen, reaching for your notepad. (You already have one of those, Alhaitham seriously sees no point in you writing down your grocery list on his arm.) “I'll tell you when it gets returned.”

“...No, it's fine. Let's go, the eggs you wanted might be all gone if we take our time getting there.”

You jolt up in alarm, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “You're right, we should hurry!”

For all it's worth, you're pretty gullible.

“You're still keeping that up?”

Alhaitham looks up from his laptop, fingers halting in their movement. “What do you mean?”

Kaveh scrunches his nose, pointing at the scribbles on his palm. “Your weird mating ritual. Can't you two communicate like normal people?”

Alhaitham glances at the mess you've made of his arm, full of little messages and doodles you wrote back and forth to each other during Biology period. Alhaitham had been, perhaps for the first time, not feeling drowsy. Regardless, you've taken to treating his skin as paper (“Save the trees,” you told him once, ignoring the disbelieving expression on his face), and Alhaitham has already accepted that you won't stop doing it as long as you still find it amusing.

“We do talk. Normally.”

“And if you do, why are you still doing... that.”

Alhaitham doesn't have anything to say to that. He did think it was inconvenient to wash all the messages off, and there are far more practical modes of communication.

But for some reason, he can't find it in himself to say that he outright dislikes it.

And maybe he traces the shapes you draw on his skin, in the private confines of his room where no one can see him. Maybe he admires the smooth strokes of your penmanship, the adorable curls of your letters, the bubbly font that always makes him chuckle because it's just so like you.

There are hearts sometimes, or even flowers when you feel like drawing something more detailed. The ugly sketches of him sleeping are somewhat annoying, but he still finds himself endeared. Though some things are appallingly inaccurate—you've done his nose a horrible injustice more than once—he notices the correct placement of beauty marks on his face, the sharp edges of his eyes, the meticulous dimple that faintly appears when he smiles.

A thrill runs through him when he thinks of you paying attention to him, more than you've ever given anyone else.

And, well. Alhaitham's certain he's been doing plenty of that for you.

“Don't you think you're being unfair?”

You pause in your typing, averting your eyes from the computer monitor to glance at Alhaitham. “Unfair in what, exactly?”

He mindlessly spins a pen with his fingers, staring at the blank canvas that was your arm compared to the sketchbook you've made out of his. “You're the only one who writes on me.”

“What, you want to write your shopping list on me for a change?” you arch up an eyebrow, unperturbed. “I thought you said it was impractical.”

“I never said I wanted to write my shopping list.”

“What else would you write, then?”

Alhaitham reaches for your arm. “Give me your hand.”

You blink, not quite unwilling yet confused all the same. You offer your hand and he uncaps his pen, scribbling on your palm. You've never been on the receiving end of this little game, so you're not sure what to expect from him.

“There.” Satisfied, he lets go and stands up. “I'm going home for the day. Good luck with the rest of your shift.”

“See you tomorrow, I guess...?” you wave at him in farewell, but he's quick to spring on his feet and dart out the door. “What's his deal...”

You turn over your hand, seeing a string of numbers written in neat font.

“Oh.”

Alhaitham feels silly for anticipating a text like some lovestruck teenage girl who exchanged numbers with her crush.

The blinking cursor on his blank essay document almost looks mocking, and as time passes by, the only word he's managed to type out is “The.” Even so, his attention is completely locked on his phone, devoid of any notifications.

If it weren't for Kaveh being nosy the other day, he wouldn't have gotten the idea of giving you his number. He did think something had to change, but he didn't know how to get there. But now that he's gotten this far, he can expect a little bit, right?

At last, his phone chimes its long awaited notification. Alhaitham is quick to ditch his laptop and shuts it closed, reaching for his phone where it sits on his desk. He swears he's never typed his password so fast before in his life.

Unfortunately, the text he's been anticipating for a good portion of the day is nothing but a disappointment.

Unknown number: eggs milk whipping cream flour

Unknown number: baking powder cocoa powder vanilla extract sugar

What was he expecting anyway?

He sighs and leans back on his chair, solemly pushing his laptop open. He doubts this message requires a response back.

Another notification lights his phone.

This time, Alhaitham doesn't even have the energy to unlock his screen. He squints at the notification preview.

Unknown number: wanna come over when I finish baking the souffles?

He doesn't quite drop his phone in shock, but it's a near thing.

You: I'll go carry the groceries too.

Unknown number: thanks! 💖

[lokisprettygirl]

Come As You Are (Eric Draven! Bill Skarsgard's Version x Female Reader) (18+) (Slight Au)

Chapter 1

Summary : You meet the meanest, the rudest, the sexiest man of your life who seems to hate your guts.

Warning: 18+, smut later, Eric is a past drug addict with suicidal tendencies, use of cuss words, description of claustrophobia, reader is in her early thirties.

Note: Watch the movie if you haven't for his origin story to get a better idea. Shelly doesn't exist in this Au but someone does, i changed the name because people take fanfiction seriously sometimes and crap on your parade. This is going to be an angsty, smutty ride

“Be careful” you heard Laura’s sweet voice in your direction while you were putting on your jacket before stepping out of the restaurant. She was an amazingly beautiful woman in her early forties, almost motherly to you, even though she wasn't that older to you.

You liked the care and concern she offered you because it was something you never really had from your own mother, she didn't have time for you, she was too busy with her own life. Your shift had just ended and all you wanted to do was go to your apartment in downtown Chicago and lie down on your bed.

It wasn't exactly a posh neighbourhood that you lived in, if you could afford something better with your waitress job you'd have but you couldn't, you had debts and bills to pay. An unfortunate incident occurred a few nights ago, that's why you had changed your 8 hours shift from afternoons that ended around 10 at night to the morning one, now you were able to get back home by 6 when it was still bright outside.

You put your headphones in as you began to walk to your building, it was just twenty minutes from the diner so you didn't really feel the need to waste money on public transport everyday.

Besides it helped you keep in shape, well you deluded yourself into believing that it was enough of an exercise for an adult woman.

It was starting to rain so you quickly ran inside the building, some gentleman had just closed the metal grill of the elevator so you yelled at him.

“Wait for me”

Well it wasn't some Gentleman, It was your neighbour Eric Draven, he lived in the apartment right in front of you. He had moved in like a few days ago and you never really had a proper conversation with him as he kept to himself, often rolling his eyes at people around him, chewing gum all the time.

Mrs. Bonnie on the third floor, a sweet old lady has warned you to keep your door locked all the time as he was supposedly dangerous, that he was involved in violent shit and had been a drug addict in the past. You didn't know where she was getting her information from but then she knew a lot about a lot of residents in this building. She was the gossip girl of the building.

“Getting in or what?” His rude snappy voice made you run into the elevator. Clutching onto your bag you turned your head to the side to look at him but the intense glare he threw your way made you look away immediately. His green eyes were often covered in black smudge. You would never find out whether he used eyeliner, kohl or just plain old black eyeshadow. Maybe Mrs Bonnie knew.

Now you weren't the type to get obsessed with men often, you really wanted to put that thought out in the universe before anyone would judge you, perhaps you had a problem of sorts but you never really liked men around you or men who often bumped into you, it was always someone unreachable that you wanted and desired. Like Hugh Jackman, yeah, very realistic and very approachable to find and fall in love with.

But the man next to you was..ahhhh well to put it plainly and modestly, he was sexy. He looked like those edgy supermodel from those high end magazines. He was 6’4, you had never met anyone so tall before, he was built well, you could just tell by the way his trench coat hung around his broad shoulders, pale smooth skin, perfectly pointed nose, full plump lips, you couldn't find a flaw in his features and that pissed you off.

Well except that haircut, at first you found it ridiculous, not understanding why he'd do that to his raven hair, you couldn't really tell what it was, the shaved sides and the mullet seemed very punk but the more you looked at him, you found yourself thinking that it did suit his aesthetic.

He had several small tattoos on the side of his face, not enough to make him look like a creep but enough to attract attention, you'd never find out what that question mark on the side of his temple meant to him or the number 99 behind his ear, or the word lullaby tatted over his brow. He also smelled like bergamot and tonka beans so he was attacking all your senses at once.

You both lived on the last floor, and you were the only ones on that floor, the rest of the apartments were still vacant, one of them was haunted or shit, you didn't care to learn more, you were content in the information that it wasn't the one you had rented.

Your floor was about to arrive when the power went out. Again, that was one of the disadvantages of living in a rundown building. It often took five minutes for the backup generator to turn on so you knew you were in for a long awkward ride filled with silence and -

“Fucking fucktards” he mumbled under his breath as he pressed the buttons on the elevator, that didn't work obviously. Power was gone.

“It comes back in five minutes”

He turned to you as he heard your voice, his jaw clenched, nose flaring as he took deep breaths. Was he panicking? You couldn't tell. He often seemed agitated for no reason so this seemed like a perfectly valid reason for his sudden anger, however he also seemed as if he was going to freak out.

You didn't know how much he despised being stuck in compact spaces, he felt his lungs closing up immediately, his knees felt weak, head became dizzier. That's how he was murdered, with a plastic bag wrapped around his head until his lungs gave out on him. That's how they were both killed. Him and Melody. The love of his life, the girl he had gone to hell and back for literally, he fought to bring her back only for her to leave him when he got hard to deal with.

As his breathing became heavier you finally brought your hand up to place it on his shoulder.

“Hey are you okay?” you asked him but he stepped away immediately.

“Don't fucking touch me..keep your hands off lady” You immediately did that as he glared at you. You were going to say something but you decided against it. Why was he so fucking rude?

He leaned against the wall of the elevator and placed his head under his palms to calm down. Five minutes had never felt so long before.

You didn't realise you were holding your own breath too so when you finally inhaled you were able to hear the sound of your own shuddering breaths in the dark silent elevator.

As the generator finally turned on the elevator began moving up and you couldn't have been more thankful, you never wanted to get stuck in an elevator with him again or anywhere else for that matter, sure you were attracted to him in a weird way but that was because you knew you weren't supposed to be attracted to him, he seemed dangerous and unstable, that's what made him so desirable, he was unrealistic and unreachable. Just like Hugh Jackman.

You quickly opened the metal door as you stepped out, he followed after you and closed the grill behind him before he reached into his pocket to take out his key. He turned around to look at you, you were struggling to find your keys in that mess of a purse you had on your shoulder.

“You shouldn't touch people without asking” you heard his gruff voice so you huffed and turned around,the urge to smack him was real.

“I was just making sure you weren't having a panic attack.. okay? I have no interest in touching you or being touched by you”

Lies. Lies. Such lies.

He puckered his lips for a moment before he turned around and faced you.

“Whatever your excuse is sweetheart, don't fucking touch me again alright?” He said as he walked closer to you, he was almost in your personal space, towering over you with his skyscraper stature.

“Fuck you.. really” you said to him as you turned around to end the conversation. Why couldn't you find your keys when you needed it the most in this moment. He sniffed once at the curt response before he chuckled.

“Is that what you want? Hmm? Want to get fucked? Is that why you're being so touchy with me?” He said to you, his voice was low and husky, any other man would have been slapped by now but truth to be told he terrified you, and that turned you on in ways you had never been turned on before.

“Oh my god you're insufferable..how does that feel? Being so insufferable?” you said to assert dominance over this conversation that you were losing miserably.

Keys, you finally found them so before he could say something else you quickly opened your door and got in.

You had never met someone so brazenly rude to your face like this before, not a man at least, they often were nice to you because they wanted to get in your pants.

From that moment forward whenever you saw him you ignored him, didn't even look at his stupid gorgeous face, no matter how good he looked and smelled. He wasn't surprised, he didn't think you'd share pleasantries with him again after how he had behaved that night and that's exactly how he wanted to keep it.

He knew your type, he knew what kind of woman you were.

A few days later as you returned from your shift you sighed as you saw him enter the elevator, as he glanced in your direction he kept the door open but you stood outside the door with your arms crossed and nose pointed towards the ceiling.

“Getting in or what?” He asked you in his usual no nonsense tone so you looked at him.

“Feel free to go up, I can wait here for it to come back down” you said as you gave him a tight lipped fake smile.

“Suit yourself” he said before he closed the grill, as the elevator began to go up he pursed his lips and threw a mock kiss your way as if he was speaking to a dog.

Your jaw clenched in anger and something else you were trying hard to deny but you kept your mouth shut instead of engaging with him further. What was his actual problem with you?

As the elevator came down again you stepped in and pressed the button to the eleventh floor. You could hear his voice speaking to someone, perhaps the woman you had seen in his apartment this morning before you left for work.

“I told you to leave before I'd be back..didn't i? I was very clear about it” he said to her, she was standing against his door, wearing what seemed like his shirt. You stared at them for a moment before you walked towards your door and looked for your keys in your purse.

“Well I'm still here so how about we go out again?” the nameless woman said to him as she dragged her finger nails over his face, she was pretty and hot and she was using an overly seductive voice. Eric chuckled once before his expression turned serious, eyes blazing with fire. He hated doing this but it was a necessary evil.

“Awn really? That's so sweet. Well It's such a shame I don't fuck with whores like you twice in a row”

Your eyes widened as he said that to her, she didn't seem like someone he paid to have in his bed so that was clearly an insult thrown just to hurt her. What the hell was wrong with this man? Who hurt him?

You couldn't help but turn around and watch as the woman spat right in his face before cursing the hell out of him, she then walked into his apartment to grab her stuff and get out of his clothes.

He stood next to his door, leaning against the wall as he waited for her to leave, his palm came to wipe the violent drool she had left on his face.

“Enjoying the show?” He asked you so you smiled in a mocking manner.

“Very much so, best entertainment i have had in a while” He smiled back but then his expression turned serious before he mouthed a slow and silent fuck you.

“Awn, is that what you want honey? Is that what this is about?”

You said to him what he had said to you the last time but before he could retort the woman came out of his apartment.

“Rot in hell you deranged jerk”

She cursed before she walked the narrow hallway to take the elevator.

You quickly opened the door and got inside as well to not engage with him further, the ball was in your court now, you were the last one to insult him in that conversation. Right?

Later that night he got in his bed to get a few hours of sleep, he was given an assignment by Kronos that he had to finish tomorrow, it was going to be a long, violent and exhausting day. Sleep never really came easy to him, especially now, even when he did he often had nightmares that left him soaking drenched in sweat and fear but he was about to drift away when he heard the loud music coming from the apartment in front of him. He lifted his head up in annoyance as he heard..what the hell was that? Why did women have such awful taste in music?

When he couldn't take it anymore he got up and put on his sweatpants to go give you a piece of his mind.

“Goddamn this fucking woman is out here to ruin my life” he murmured under his mouth as he banged his fist on her door so hard that he could hear it cracking slightly.

You quickly opened the door and sighed as you put your hand on your waist. He was taken aback by your appearance, you had a floral dress on with your hair done and light makeup. He had never seen you so dolled up before, It caught him off guard for a moment, he was used to seeing you in old ragged clothes, not that it changed how he looked at you.

“Guys turn it down” you turned around to tell your friends to lower the volume. “Sorry i almost forgot you were living here now, I had gotten so used to being alone on this floor”

“You forgot? You forgot to be a decent human being who shouldn't be playing loud music at night? Especially when you have such a bad taste in music” he said to you, you weren't even looking at his face, he was too tall and you were in no mood to crane your neck up, he was shirtless, that's where your eyes were. On his chest and those eight packs and that huge eye tattoo right in the middle of his sternum.

“Hey no need to go there, my music in taste is very tasteful”

Taste in music. It was so easy to not mess up but you had to make a fool of yourself.

Before you'd hear a mocking remark you decided to cut him off.

“Look it's my birthday and I'm trying to have fun ..I'm only getting older and grainier every day so might as well enjoy it..you won't hear the music anymore okay?” You said to him as you finally looked up, making him purse his lips together.

It was your birthday and he was being a complete jackass to you. He remembered not being like this, with Melody he was gentle, he never spoke rudely with her or any woman for that matter, he was reserved, an introvert but he wasn't an asshole for no reason, though he definitely had his reasons with you. It was the way you used to look at him before he ruined it by being rude, with such warmth and acceptance in your eyes, he had to ruin it because he wasn't able to digest it.

He ran his hand through his hair, his bicep flexing at the gesture.

“Happy birthday I guess” he said to you so you stared at him because you couldn't believe he wasn't hurling insults your way and was actually saying something normal for once.

“Well ummm thanks ..I guess”

He nodded as you said that. He felt like an idiot standing on your doorway, not knowing what to say.

“Have fun” he said as he turned around to leave but your voice stopped him in his track.

“Hey..listen!! Umm Do you want to come inside? There's beer and cake” You asked him, as opposed to your better judgement and his as well. He turned to look at you, his eyes flickering constantly with emotions you couldn't really figure out, he wasn't exactly an easy person to read.

It would have been so easy to say no, to reject the invitation, turn around and get back to having a restless sleep like he always did, in a perfect world that's what he would have done, he should have kept his distance like he had been doing all this time. That's what he should have done for his own sake but instead of all that he dug a hole for himself and jumped in it knowing too well he won't survive this again.

“Sure..I'll come inside and eat your cake if you want me to”

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Taglist: @m-riaa @erebus-et-eigengrau

[solxamber]

helloou can I request headcanons for pomefiore and jamil with a fem reader who since she was little had to be like a mother to the children of the orphanage for being a little older, she even has cute videos (tiktok) of them because she wanted to have a memory of how they grew up, where you can see how she cooked, combed and played with them several very soft moments with her children from the orphanage ~ in resume mc with a great maternal instinct since she was little but who also wants to feel like a normal girl her age: ')) that would be all, sorry if it's a bit long oh thank you <3

Pomefiore + Jamil with a Maternal reader

thanks for the request <3

Vil Schoenheit

When Vil first learns about your background at the orphanage, his initial reaction is one of admiration. Taking care of so many younger children while still being a child yourself is something he respects deeply. However, he’s also concerned that you’ve had to grow up too quickly. His perfectionist tendencies kick in, and he starts looking for ways to make sure you’re also getting the chance to feel like a girl your age.

The first time Vil watches one of your TikToks, his heart surprisingly softens. There’s a clip of you brushing a little girl’s hair, chatting away as if you were the child’s older sister, and another where you’re cooking with a few of the kids, all of them smiling and laughing. He doesn't express it much, but these videos make Vil feel more connected to you. He sees the warmth you give to those children, and he feels a deep respect for your maternal instinct.

In his own way, Vil tries to get you to focus on yourself. “You’ve done more than enough for others,” he says one day while doing your makeup. “Now it’s time for you to feel like the young woman you are.” Vil starts taking you to events with him, showing you the side of life where you don’t have to worry about anyone else for a while. He wants you to have the freedom to experience things you missed growing up—luxury, fashion, and self-care.

When you express worry that maybe it’s selfish to focus on yourself, Vil is quick to shut that thought down. “You are not selfish for wanting to live, darling. You can’t pour from an empty cup.”

Rook Hunt

Rook is immediately fascinated when he learns about your background. He sees you as a rare blend of maturity and innocence, a "vision of kindness," he’d say, with an undeniable strength forged from your years at the orphanage. You are a mystery he wants to observe closely, admiring both your motherly side and your longing for youth.

Watching your TikToks, Rook is enamored. The way you cared for those children, the tenderness in your touch as you braided their hair or made them laugh with silly jokes—it’s all so beautifully poetic to him. He memorizes every detail from those videos, often bringing up specific moments during conversation. “Ah, the way you danced with that little boy—such grace!”

Rook, of course, wants to help you experience the joys of youth. He’s always whisking you away on spontaneous adventures—whether it’s dragging you to a hidden meadow to run free, or convincing you to try a daring stunt during school events. Rook believes you should feel like the young girl you are, despite your past responsibilities.

He’s always telling you that while being a maternal figure is admirable, you deserve to enjoy your life too. “Mon trésor, your heart is vast, but you must remember to keep a little space for your own dreams, non?”

Epel Felmier

Epel is initially surprised when he learns how you practically raised the children at the orphanage. He’s in awe, especially when he watches your TikToks. There’s one where you’re braiding a girl’s hair, another where you’re baking cookies with a group of kids, and Epel can’t help but feel a soft tug in his heart. It’s cute, sure, but also—he respects the heck out of you.

At first, Epel feels like he should protect you. You’ve been responsible for others for so long, and now it’s your turn to have someone look out for you. However, he quickly realizes you’re not someone who needs protecting. If anything, you’re the one who’s been the protector all this time.

He likes teasing you for being “too grown-up,” often encouraging you to relax and do something wild or irresponsible. “C’mon, you don’t gotta be so serious all the time. Let’s go climb that tree!” Epel admires your ability to balance responsibility with moments of fun, but he also wants to be the one to remind you that you can just let loose sometimes.

One day, after watching you work tirelessly to help with a school event, he pulls you aside and insists you join him in some mischief. “You’ve taken care of everyone else for too long. Let someone else worry for once.”

Jamil Viper

Jamil is someone who understands the weight of responsibility, so when he hears about how you took care of the kids at the orphanage, he relates to you more than he’d like to admit. He’s seen some of your TikToks where you’re cooking for the kids, playing with them, and even putting them to bed, and he feels a sense of kinship with you.

He’s impressed with how effortlessly you balanced caring for others while still excelling at your academics. It reminds him of his own situation—always having to juggle his duties. However, he’s a bit concerned that, like him, you might be neglecting your own needs for the sake of others.

Unlike the others, Jamil doesn’t outright tell you to focus on yourself more, but he subtly makes it happen. He cooks for you when you’re too tired, takes care of small errands without you asking, and always ensures you have time for yourself, even if you don’t realize it. “You’ve been looking after everyone for long enough. Let someone take care of you for once,” he’d say quietly, pushing a warm plate of food toward you.

When you express your desire to feel like a normal girl your age, Jamil is surprisingly supportive. He may not show it openly, but he helps you steal moments of freedom whenever possible—whether it’s sneaking away from responsibilities to enjoy a festival or convincing Kalim to handle a task so you can relax for a change. He understands more than anyone how tiring it can be to carry the weight of responsibility, and he quietly vows to make sure you never feel that way again.

Masterlist

[literaila]

what does reader think of all the students at jujutsu tech ? is she like a proud mum when she meets yuji and nobara and is like "my son made friends" ? does megumi come home kn the weekends ? are they all sad when he officially starts there ?

trust that reader is everyone’s mom figure. she is the only person with any common sense, the most sane out of them all. if there’s a question that needs to be answered, reader should be the first person anyone goes to (someone might say otherwise but still)

satoru might say that you need to be a little “crazy” to be a jujutsu sorcerer, but you think he’s just projecting.

and you tell him this when you’re discussing megumi, talking about him living away from home—because jujutsu is immersive. it’s something you’re supposed to devote your lives to and you know this.

you do. really.

i mean, you lived there. you went to class with other sorcerers—satoru—and you know that you can’t half ass a career in jujutsu. you know.

but still, you can’t help but lay in bed with satoru and talk about megumi and ask him “does he really have to live there?” you’ll stare at satoru’s face. his half vacant eyes, tired from a day of work and all three of you. “he could come home at night and eat dinner. he could drive over with us.”

“what would the other first years say?”

“they wouldn’t have to know.”

you know you sound a bit naive. like a kid. but, honestly, didn’t satoru fall in love with you when you were one. why should it matter to either of you?

“what do you think nanami and haibara would’ve thought if you went home every night when you came to school?”

you give him a look, half joking. in no world would that have even been possible for you.

“okay,” he rolls his eyes. “what do you think suguru would’ve thought about me? if i went home every night to the gojo clan? or shoko?”

“they both made fun of you anyway.”

“megumi wants to go,” satoru reminds you like you don’t already know it. “do you want him to feel separated from his classmates?”

“stop,” you tell him, groaning into the side of his head. his hair smells like gumdrops and plums.

“i’m just saying,” satoru kisses behind your ear, his go-to method of distraction. “he’s a man.”

“he’s not.”

satoru shakes his head against yours, not saying anything.

“he’s not. you’re not even a man.”

the boy in question grins like this is what he was waiting for you to say. “and i still lived in the dorms, a building away from you.”

you sit up suddenly, thinking. “what if megumi falls in love with a classmate?”

satoru laughs.

“no, i’m serious—“

still, when megumi moves into his dorm room, you don’t even attempt to dissuade him. he seems… as giddy as he can get, carrying his boxes around campus like he didn’t spend half his childhood following you or satoru around.

you’re immensely glad that you agreed to work there with him in this moment. satoru says he has no idea when the other first years will show up—as per usual—and you don’t want megumi to be alone for long.

so it’s fortunate that satoru can introduce him to the now second years, and you can stand along slide megumi all the while, grinning at your pupils and nudging megumi to be polite.

you don’t get to watch satoru smile at your overprotective tendencies or proud-motherly instincts. he finds it… slightly adorable (and insanely attractive) to watch you fuss over your son like he’s a tiny little doll you can dress up.

and really, you’re just glad that megumi isn’t afraid of all of this like you were. that he had someone—two people—to show him the reins. that satoru is going to be there beside him the whole time, you just a classroom away.

yeah, you think, for just once, it’ll all be fine.

and then you get to hear all about satoru’s teaching methods from your new students (which ensues a whole… months worth of arguments).

[milkfordragons]

I love your metas, super curious to know your headcanons!

Thank you so much for this amazing excuse to ramble about the mysterious William Graham.

Will’s father was a killer. His decision to become a cop was, in part, an attempt to atone for having been complicit and a bystander to his father’s crimes. This unresolved guilt is what underpins his attachment to Abigail; he sees in her a reflection of his younger self. He clings to the belief that she is innocent, a projection of his own desire to redeem his past self. However, this delusion ultimately prevents him from forming a true bond with her because, like him, she enjoyed "hunting" with her father. The truth of her nature is something Will resists, just as he resists confronting his own past.

Will’s father killed his mother. This is a secret Will has carried for most of his life, unable to fully process it due to his young age at the time of the event. He was a witness to it. After his father’s death, which I suspect Will himself orchestrated, he became increasingly scared. His decision to join law enforcement was not only a way to maintain control over the narrative surrounding his father’s death but also a means to intervene should any future investigation arise.

However, beneath the surface, his career choice was also driven by a subconscious impulse: a desire to engage with violence in a way that was socially sanctioned. Law enforcement provided a morally acceptable avenue through which he could interact with the brutality he craved.

Following his father’s death, Will was deeply traumatized and alone until someone found him. Most likely a man. A figure who entered his life at a vulnerable moment and forged an intense, trauma-bonded connection with him. This man was refined, intellectual, and cultured, someone who made Will feel seen and, crucially, safe. Yet he also manipulated Will, drawing him into unsettling and strange situations that Will was either too dependent or too afraid to refuse. The relationship ended when this man found someone new, replacing Will and abandoning him. This created a deep psychic wound that shaped Will’s entire approach to attachment: shutting down emotionally, avoiding intimacy, and refusing to let anyone get too close.

The nature of his feelings toward this man was something Will refused to fully process. It’s likely this happened when he was very young, perhaps in his late high school years or early college years. The most probable scenario is this man was a professor. He knew Will’s secret about his parents. Perhaps he even used it to maintain control over him. If Will learned his highly manipulative skills from anyone, it was from this man. At his worst, he mirrors him, the internalized reference for manipulation, deception, and psychological games. When experiencing pain and exclusion, however, he mirrors his father, to kill, to be violent, to descend into psychosis.

His mother, I believe, suffered from postpartum depression, leaving Will deprived of the care and affection he needed in early childhood. His complete lack of reference for a motherly figure suggests this wound remains unprocessed, yet on a superficial level, he craves it (evidenced in his dynamic with Alana).

The revelation from Hannibal’s patient files (that Will’s father had HIV) raises another interesting layer. It may explain Will’s anti-NMDA receptor encephalitis, which weakens the immune system and affects neurological function. This suggests Will was a frail, chronically ill child, which in turn could have led to an obsessive preoccupation with cleanliness, perhaps manifesting as OCD tendencies. More significantly, it feeds into his deeply rooted belief that he is tainted, defective, or inherently "wrong." His need for external order and cleanliness may stem from an unconscious attempt to counterbalance this internal sense of corruption.

Now unto the infamous social history note. The file contains a bizarre statement: “Married with two children, monogamous with husband.” Many have speculated this refers to his mother, but this theory falls apart under scrutiny. The file includes a separate section for hereditary history, which explicitly states “Father with HIV.” If the note referred to his mother, it would have been categorized under that section. Additionally, abbreviations like HHC (Hereditary History Current) and SHC (Social History Current) make no linguistic sense as stand-ins for "father" or "mother." The most plausible conclusion is that the note does indeed claim that Will himself was married to a man with two children...likely a joke from Fuller.

But, just for fun, let’s entertain the theory that it referred to his mother. This would imply that Will had (or has) a sibling, one he refuses to acknowledge. The fandom assumes Will is canonically an only child, yet he never explicitly states this. When Brian asks, Will sidesteps the question, responding, “What makes you say that?” but never confirming or denying it.

Crucially, Will never claims to be an orphan either, only that he never connected to the concept of family. This suggests an estranged sibling, likely an older brother who left home when Will was still very young. Will’s father, I believe, favored this brother, as he remained oblivious to their father’s darker side. This resulted in their father projecting onto Will, exacerbating his psychological torment.

There is also an intriguing parallel in Œuf, when Alana asks why certain children are susceptible to C.J. Lincoln. Will responds: "Our boy may have a brother, but their ages or their interests keep them apart, so he’s a brother without a brother." This feels oddly specific, almost as if Will is referencing his own experience.

The thematic structure of the show often uses case-of-the-week plots to mirror the characters' internal struggles, and Œuf is no exception. While the primary focus is on Abigail, Will, and Hannibal, the presence of a cult-like dynamic cannot be ignored. This episode, where children are manipulated into an artificial sense of belonging, may provide subtle hints about Will’s past, particularly his susceptibility to the kind of intellectual and emotional grooming that shaped him.

Will’s fixation on dogs likely originates from childhood, where a pet may have been his only source of stability amidst chaos. Training and caring for dogs gives him a sense of control, a way to reaffirm his own goodness. Subconsciously, his desire to "fix" his father manifests through this bond. The same, of course, applies to Hannibal.

I don’t believe Will has ever been heterosexual. However, he has spent his life behaving as though he were, due to repression, internalized trauma. He associates passion with violence, which is why he gravitates toward "safe" relationships with women he is not genuinely interested in. For Will, desire is dangerous. He believes that whatever he craves, he ultimately destroys.

This is why he scoffs when Hannibal suggests the Dragon would target his family. He knows the pattern: only happy families are targeted. And Will does not have one.

Wally represents a healthier version of himself, something Will both envies and rejects. His failure to protect Molly and Wally wasn’t just negligence; it was a deliberate, almost subconscious act of detachment.

Lastly, I don’t believe Will was truly trying to get Hannibal killed when he schemed with Francis. He assumed Francis was weak (as evidenced by not killing Reba) and therefore unworthy. His line "If I can see you, you can see me." was pure manipulation, meant to lure Francis into proving his own inadequacy.

And the real reason Will hesitated to shoot as a cop is because the man in front of him looked like his father.

Will’s brother is still out there. And his stepmother, an abusive presence who blurred boundaries, left him with a deeply complex relationship to women and sexuality.

[jup1ter33]

"Silence"

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆⚰︎⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

ᯓ ⁺₊ ♱ .ᐟ || Where the dhampir finds himself yearning for something more with you, navigating his complicated feelings and doing so in a rather quiet way. <3 gn!Reader, mostly fluff, yearning, very mild angst, undetermined relationship,

╰┈➤ ❝ 1.5 wc ! ❞

The leaves glimmer with rainwater and moonlight, making the foliage appear like tiny fae had scattered fairy dust around. A bright waxing moon rests high in the sky, watching over sleeping creatures in a motherly fashion. It was silent, aside from the shuffling behind you. The dhampir shuts the carved wooden door behind him, taking faint steps towards where you're seated. He need not say a word, for he knows you'll recognize him through his rustling alone. As if mimicking you, he seats himself next to you on the damp step, bodies juxtaposed against each other. 

“Did you come outside to enjoy the scenery, D?” Your voice broke the silence, whispered and soft like a petal. His gaze did not leave the rain-covered lawn, blinking as he exasperated a faint sigh, only noticeable through the expanding of his chest.  “I came to see you.” His voice contrasted against yours, yet, it still held the softness he always carries. The few words he spoke held significant weight in your heart, knowing the dhampir's tendencies are solitude and tough walls covering his underlying vulnerability. “Why so?” Finally, he lowered his gaze onto you, watching how your skin appeared to have a cool tint from the faint twilight. He stares for a moment, thin lips sealed shut as his pupil flicks over your face, taking in the features now accentuated by the scenery. There was hesitation, you could see by the way his lips parted before immediately closing again, turning away from you. After a moment of internal contemplation, he decided it was best not to speak: per usual.

This didn't hurt you, as you knew D was not fond of using his voice for much of anything. Instead of trying to bait him into giving you an answer, like you used to, you opted for silence as well, gaze casting down to your hands where you adjust the cuffs of your attire. While you were distracted with yourself, he stole another glance at you, applying all your features to his memory to ensure he’d never forget your beauty, even when he was to outlive you. 

Before anything else could progress, you heard a small but rather obnoxious voice start to taunt the man next to you. “Really D? C’mon, why don't yo—” D’s brows furrow together as he squeezed his left hand into a fist, effectively stopping the parasite from causing him any more embarrassment. Your laughter is what brings him out of his state of annoyance, the sound much more delightful than Left-Hands. He turns his head to face you now, featuring softening into a pleased look. He’s glad you find it humorous rather than bothersome. 

“Left-Hand certainly likes to talk more than you do.” Your laughter fizzles out, a smile gracing your features now. D could feel the way his heart hammered in his ribcage, fearful you be able to see the sapphire-colored pendant throbbing against his chest from the intensity of his emotion. He knew what he was feeling, yet it felt so terribly wrong to do so. A human and a dhampir. He contemplated if this was as bad a vampire and a human many times, weighing the differences to try to perhaps justify himself. However, his brain could not come to a reasonable conclusion, as his heart had seemingly taken over. He felt incredibly drawn to you. Your presence, your beauty, your talent, your rarity— something about you was irresistible to him. Yet, he was able to conclude that these feelings were not from the vampiric side of him, but the human. He did not chase after you with the intent to feed or with lust, it was far different. This was the type of love humans felt. 

“I suppose he does,” D remarked, lips threatening to tilt up into a smile. The urge to reach out and caress your cheek took over him, imagining the softness of your skin, along with with warmth beneath his cold hand. “I apologize.” The words came suddenly, causing you to let out a puff of air, chuckling while you rested your face in your palm. “There's no need to apologize for that, he can be funny sometimes.” D’s brows lower, eyes thinning as he lowers his head a bit. He felt guilt creep up into his throat. He shouldn't let your palace of a body be tainted with his beastly nature, or so he thought. “No,” He interrupts you. His silence after speaking left you to decode his words, sifting through the phrases as you gazed at him with an attentive expression. 

As you realize this, you let out a soft sigh. “Oh, but there’s no reason to apologize for not talking.” His gaze drops to you, observing the way you speak so softly as if you were trying to lull him to sleep with a gentle lullaby. He wets his lips. “I don’t mind, D.” The stoic expression remains on his face, with the gentle breeze fluttering his hair being the only indication that he hasn’t turned into a statue. Once again, he remains silent.

Observing the steady drips of rainwater off of a cupped leaf, it falls quiet once more. This leaves the poor dhampir back with these raging thoughts, his heart aching to have something more with you, yet according to his morals, this is the exact opposite of something he should be doing. He is to prevent the spread of vampirism, to put a stop to the “disgusting” creatures. However, you didn't hold these same views as D. Always speaking about how you think the nature of vampires is something beautiful and romantic even, not disgusting. But with your opposing views on the topic, you would not try to stop his bounty hunting, as it is what he does. 

During the moment of peace, he recalls the time you had expressed interest in his fangs. He didn't understand why you would be so interested in something that alienates him from you, shouldn’t that be frightening for you? He allowed you to gawk and pry into his mouth, looking at the shape of his fangs and mumbling out questions akin to “Have you ever bitten someone?” As usual, he would not answer and let you continue. However, something about that was endearing to him. You simply were not scared of him. There was no fear in your heart for the daunting and rather tall dhampir, only genuine emotions that bordered on something more than friends. His introverted nature makes it hard for him to make sense of his feelings. He doesn't have many friends, or companions even. Before you started tagging along he was alone, with only his steed and Left hand. Coming to the conclusion he did was certainly a great achievement for him. 

He found himself yearning to be by your side, an ache in his chest when he thinks of you. Although he was more than capable by himself and had no problem being alone, his thoughts periodically drifted to what his life could be like with you. What would it be like waking up next to you? Would Left hand bother you too much? But the main question was always how do you feel that he is not human, but dhampir? Maybe this is how Charlotte and Meier felt. No— he mustn't think like that. 

His chest expands again as he sighs, the breath drawn from his lips as his deep umber hair falls over his shoulder, a little curl tickling his face. Hesitantly, his hand lifts off his lap, ever so gently placing on the back of your skull. You didn't flinch, nor act surprised, it was as if this was completely natural for you both. The cold, gloved hand tenderly slid down to the base of your neck, cradling your head with his large hand. Your gaze turned to him, lingering on the drip of the raindrops before meeting his dark eyes. His lashes were visible, his sclera pure and contrasting against the rich color of his iris. Coaxing you closer with his hand, his broad body leaned in carefully, his scent wafting over you at the proximity. He wasn't thinking clearly, it felt like Left hand had spread to his entire body. There was a slight pause before he closed the space, his lips resting against the crown of your head with a tender and light touch. You stayed perfectly still, relishing in the moment of his scarce affections. Eyes fluttering shut, he stayed there for a moment longer than he should've. This small, yet golden act of affection had you smiling under him, wanting to reciprocate your fondness. 

“D.”

His lashes fluttered open, just enough to meet your eyes while his hand rested at the base of your neck. You felt warmth in your face against the misty chill of the night, and D noticed the softness in your gaze. Tenderly, your warm hand reached up to cup his cheek, the coolness of his skin grounding you amidst the heat you felt. “Aren't you sweet?” Your teasing words made him shut his eyes, leaning his face into your hand. You gently swiped a curl away from his cheek, allowing your palm to rest flat against the plane of his face.

“I try.”

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⊹˚˙♱˙˚⊹

ty for reading ! <3