#i have no idea beyond maybe his dad made him!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
If Laws of Attraction doesn't want me to sympathize with Tanthai, they should stop making him say things that make me think he's suicidal. And stop having his bodyguard look at him Like That.
The sad way he looked up at Methee when he came in to tend Tanthai's cut lip was a choice.
The way he called himself the worst and talked about feeling nothing at killing a child shows just how messed up he is. He just felt empty? A child is dead, and he doesn't feel anything?! And all Methee could do was warn him that yelling will only draw his father's wrath again. Even in his own room Tanthai has to control himself to avoid his father's anger.
And then he says maybe he should die. After all, he should never have been born, right? And how sad Methee looks to hear that. But not surprised. Because even if he hasn't said it before, I'm sure Methee has witnessed all of his self-destructive behavior.
Methee came into the room telling Tanthai to apply the ointment, not to let him apply the ointment for Tanthai. But to make him stop saying such terrible things, he can only grab Tanthai's face and start tending the wound. I don't even know what the look on Tanthai's face says, but it says a lot.
Then he gets drunk and starts talking about dying again.
Only for Methee to pop up at that particular moment to bring him home.
And he just carts him away when he refuses! He just picked Tanthai up and hauled him away. Tanthai had a whole beverage in his hand that probably poured over Methee, but Methee didn't care.
And they expect me to be normal about this? I'm over here making up scenarios about how Tanthai can be innocent, so he and Methee can get married and run away together. Ah, maybe dad was driving, and made Tanthai come take his place. How could they have managed that without anyone noticing? Heck if I know. But where was Methee? Why wouldn't he be with Tanthai to keep him from driving drunk? Why didn't the senator let Charn talk to Tanthai? Why did Tanthai say there was more to this than Charn knew? Seems dumb if the things he didn't know only make things worse for him. Where's Jinta or the Mystery Globe Fixer to give Tanthai a chance to make things right?
#laws of attraction#laws of attraction the series#thee x tanthai#tanthai x thee#tanthai x methee#tw suicide#tw murder#look#i know it doesn't make sense#but i'll keep living in denial anyway#like why would tanthai be looking for something at tin's home#if he weren't the guilty party?#i have no idea beyond maybe his dad made him!#the senator messed his kid up good#so i will keep pretending that he's the murderer#and keep hoping thee and tanthai can have a happy ending#you want me to believe a cold-blooded child murderer#just gets thrown over the shoulder by his bodyguard?#psh okay#he's babygirl coded to me
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tim accidently referring to the Joker as Dad but those who know about Joker Jr aren’t present and so everyone is left with the ‘realisation’ that Tim is the son of the biggest nightmare to their family.
It’s probably Jason and Steph, her there to bother Tim but Jason went to the manor for food and the two naturally started arguing. Maybe Jason tells Tim to stop costing on his case and prove a point be made against blonde, but Tim just offhandedly goes, “Later, I think my dad broke out of Arkham again but the guards aren’t doing anything. Maybe they’re in on it…”
The two present naturally look at each other with confusion and for the first time stop bickering to peak over his shoulder and see what his case is because, holy shit Tim had a villain for a dad and didn’t tell us? Only to see numerous photos of the Joker in his cell and many reports over the last week of how he’s been behaving and Jason…
Steph pushes the man out of the room when she sees his face go from frozen fear to anger, thinking it’s towards Tim and his secrecy and, while she totally gets that, now isn’t the time.
Though when they get into the Jason starts a rant about how Bruce and Dick should have told him that the monster had a child, even if that child wasn’t Tim! Jason protects kids! Did they think he’d hurt him just because of who his father is?
No!
If anything, he’d become the kids full time body guard to stop that mad man from making Tim into another version of himself!
The two naturally go to tell the others, pulling Damian, Cass and Duke into a mostly unused room and telling them what they discovered, all while Tim stays in the library working on his case.
Cass is beyond worried but also confused because he doesn’t seem to have any physical characteristics of the Joker or Harley, but maybe the mother is different? Perhaps it’s still Janet and either she had a fling with the Joker or something far worse, which makes the young girl enraged on the woman’s behalf.
Damian makes a comment about him killing Tim, not in a serious manner but more as an option, but Duke shuts it down, saying that having a villain for a parent doesn’t mean anything about who you will be. He points out those in the family of that nature and other heroes like Superboy.
When asked why they didn’t get Dick or Babs involved, Jason says they defiantly know and lied about it.
It’s only after another three hours of working that Tim catches himself referring to the Joker as dad and shuts his laptop, making his way to Bruce’s room to hide under the older man’s bed like he usually does when that happens, only to overhear what his siblings are saying.
Tim presses his ear against the door to hear better.
“If that maniac had a kid, surely he’d have told everyone he had an heir or something.” That’s Steph’s voice, filled with worry that only he and Cass could detect as she hides it under a whiney tone.
Jason is next to respond, “maybe he doesn’t know? I mean, did Tim ever even interacted with him before he became Robin?”
It doesn’t take much more than that for Tim to realise that he must have been talking aloud again or absently answered someone earlier and misspoke in front of them.
Panic fills him as he avoids telling Bruce when he gets bad, even if it’s just a small thing, because the older man will start of being a concerned parent then go into Batman mode and only just stop himself from putting Tim in the confinement cell. Sure Tim came up with the idea of the cell so he wouldn’t hurt anyone if his conditioning got too bad, but he’s learnt the signs. He’s not a mindless drone, he still knows who he is and doesn’t hear someone talking to him or anything like that.
He just… sometimes forgets the Joker hurt him.
It’s not Tim’s fault that memories of watching TV with him and Harley, tucked between them with a big bowl of ice cream felt better than most memories of his real parents.
But he knows it’s wrong, always comes back to calling the Joker his enemy.
Bruce just doesn’t get that.
Tim hears them talk a bit more, theories about who his mother might be, if Tim is safe at the manor, if Joker knows he has a son…
Opening the door, Tim stands there and stares at them as all eyes snap to him in alarm.
He doesn’t let anybody speak, cutting them all off quickly, “He’s not my dad. Go the cave and search for file number 26557933301-JJ and put in the code AGELAST, all caps.”
With that he turns and leaves, walking at first before running to Bruce’s room to hide.
He goes to family dinner and pretends not to notice the quietness or how Jason is still there, eating his food quietly and waiting for the ball to drop.
Naturally, Damian is the one to say what he wants first, “So why is okay that Tim shot the joker but I got in trouble for stabbing Bane?”
Everyone groans.
#batfam#tim drake#bat family#dc comics#batfamily#dc universe#dc#tim drake is red robin#tim drake is a menace#damian wayne#Jason Todd#dick grayson#stephanie brown#duke thomas#cassandra cain#barbara gordon#and joker junior#joker jr#dc joker#joker junior#JJ
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
A summer to remember - LN4
*:・゚ Summary: Lando, Y/N, and their daughter Isla enjoy a perfect summer vacation filled with love, beach fun, and yacht adventures.
*:・゚ Word count: 2388
୨ৎ
It was a beautiful summer morning, and the sun was already casting its golden glow over the peaceful coastline. The soft sound of waves lapping against the shore could be heard through the open windows of the cozy villa where Lando Norris, his wife, and their one-year-old daughter, Isla, were spending their vacation. It was a much-needed break from Lando's hectic Formula 1 schedule, and he was determined to make the most of every second with his little family.
Inside the villa, the sweet scent of fresh pastries filled the air as Y/N was busy in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the three of them. Isla was sitting in her highchair, her big, curious eyes watching her mom move around, while her tiny hands held onto a small stuffed bear that she never seemed to let go of. Lando, fresh from a shower, entered the kitchen with a content smile, his heart swelling at the sight of his two favorite girls.
“Morning, love,” he murmured, stepping up behind Y/N and wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her neck. “You’re up early. Didn’t think we’d need to be up so soon on holiday.”
Y/N smiled, leaning back into him as she flipped a pancake. “Well, someone woke up hungry,” she said, glancing over at Isla, who was babbling happily to her bear. “Besides, it’s too beautiful outside to waste the day.”
Lando hummed in agreement, his chin resting on Y/N's shoulder as he watched her cook. “You’re right. What’s the plan today, then? What amazing adventure are we going on?”
Y/N turned her head to meet his gaze, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I thought we could start with a beach day. Just us, some sand, and the ocean. Maybe build a sandcastle with Isla. She’s been dying to get her hands in the sand.”
Lando grinned, his eyes lighting up at the idea. He loved the thought of spending the day on the beach with his family, especially if it meant seeing Isla’s face light up with excitement. “That sounds perfect,” he said, stealing a quick kiss before letting her go. “But I think we should add something extra later. How about a yacht ride this afternoon? I’ve already got one booked for us.”
Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise and delight. “A yacht? Seriously, Lando?”
“Of course,” he replied with a cocky smile, giving her a playful wink. “Figured we’d sail off into the sunset like in the movies. You know, champagne in hand, wind in our hair… or at least, your hair. Isla and I don’t have much of that,” he teased, running a hand through his slightly damp hair for emphasis.
Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re too much sometimes, Norris.”
Lando winked. “And you love it.”
Isla, hearing her dad’s voice, squealed excitedly, her little arms reaching out towards him. Lando’s expression softened instantly as he scooped her up from the highchair and spun her around, her giggles filling the kitchen. “There’s my girl!” he said, holding her close and pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek. “Ready for a fun day with Mum and Dad?”
Isla giggled in response, her tiny hand grabbing onto Lando’s shirt, holding on as if she never wanted to let go. Lando’s heart melted, as it did every time he looked at his daughter. She was the perfect mix of both him and Y/N—her sparkling eyes and infectious laughter were all her mother, while the little dimple in her cheek and the mischievous glint in her eye were pure Lando.
-
After breakfast, the three of them headed down to the beach, which was only a short walk from the villa. The sand was warm beneath their feet, and the ocean stretched out in front of them, glittering under the morning sun. It was the kind of picture-perfect day that made it hard to believe anything else existed beyond this little slice of paradise.
Lando carried Isla on his hip, holding her tiny hand as she stared wide-eyed at the ocean for the first time. Her mouth formed a little "o" of wonder as the gentle breeze tousled her soft hair. “Look at that, Isla,” Lando said, pointing towards the waves. “Isn’t it beautiful? Just like your mum.”
Y/N, who had been spreading out a blanket, glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Lando’s words. “Flatterer,” she teased, though her cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. No matter how long they’d been together, Lando always knew how to make her heart skip a beat.
Once everything was set up, Y/N and Lando took turns playing with Isla in the sand, helping her dig little holes and attempting to build a sandcastle that mostly ended up in a pile of mush, thanks to Isla’s enthusiastic hands. Lando pretended to be frustrated as Isla gleefully knocked over the little towers he was trying to make. “Isla, love, I’m trying to build a masterpiece here,” he said in mock seriousness, though his grin gave him away.
Isla just giggled, grabbing another handful of sand and letting it slip through her tiny fingers. Y/N watched them with a smile, her heart swelling with love. There was something so pure and beautiful about the way Lando interacted with their daughter. He was playful, patient, and so incredibly gentle with her, like she was the most precious thing in the world. And to him, she was. Both of them were.
-
After a few hours of playing in the sand and dipping their toes in the water, it was time for Isla’s nap. Y/N and Lando packed up their things and headed back to the villa, where Isla quickly fell asleep in her crib, her little face peaceful and content.
With their daughter sound asleep, Y/N and Lando had a rare moment of quiet together. They sat out on the terrace, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun. Lando stretched out on the lounge chair next to her, his hand lazily tracing circles on her leg. “This is nice,” he murmured, his voice low and relaxed. “Just the two of us for a bit.”
Y/N smiled softly, leaning back in her chair as she gazed out at the ocean. “It is,” she agreed. “It’s nice to just… be. No distractions, no schedules. Just us.”
Lando turned his head to look at her, his eyes filled with that familiar mix of love and admiration that always made her stomach flutter. “You know,” he said quietly, his fingers gently brushing her skin, “I don’t think I tell you enough how much I love you. How much I appreciate everything you do for Isla and me.”
Y/N’s breath caught slightly at the sincerity in his voice. She turned her head to meet his gaze, her heart swelling with emotion. “Lando…”
“No, really,” he insisted, sitting up a little. “I don’t say it enough. You’re incredible, Y/N. The way you love our daughter, the way you take care of us… You make everything feel so effortless, and I just—I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and she quickly blinked them away, smiling softly at him. “I love you too, Lando. More than you know.”
He leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss that made her forget about everything else. In that moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped up in each other, the world fading away.
-
Later that afternoon, as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, Lando, Y/N, and Isla boarded the yacht that Lando had arranged. It was a sleek, beautiful boat, and as they set off into the open water, the breeze ruffling their hair, it felt like something out of a dream.
Isla was fascinated by the gentle rocking of the boat, her little hands gripping the edge of the railing as she watched the water with wide eyes. Lando stood behind her, his hands on either side of hers, keeping her steady while whispering little words of encouragement. “Look at that, baby girl. Isn’t it amazing? Just like flying, huh?”
Y/N watched them from her seat, her heart swelling with affection for the two of them. There was something so undeniably sweet about seeing Lando with Isla. He was a natural father, always knowing how to make her smile, always there to comfort her when she was upset.
As the yacht sailed further out, Lando eventually scooped Isla up and carried her back to Y/N, sitting down next to her and cuddling Isla between them. The three of them sat together, watching the sun slowly sink into the horizon, casting a golden-orange glow over the water.
“This is perfect,” Y/N whispered, resting her head on Lando’s shoulder as she cradled Isla in her arms. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”
Lando smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Me either,” he murmured. “This… this is everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Y/N glanced up at him, her heart swelling at the love in his eyes. “You mean that?”
He looked down at her, his expression serious but filled with so much warmth. “I do. You and Isla… you’re my world, Y/N. Everything I do, it’s for you two. And I’ll never stop loving you, not for a second.”
Her breath caught at his words, and she leaned up to kiss him, slow and sweet.
The kiss lingered, sweet and unhurried, the weight of Lando’s words settling between them like the most beautiful promise. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling as the world seemed to pause for just a moment. Isla, nestled between them, was quietly playing with Lando’s fingers, completely content in the embrace of her parents.
“I love you, too,” Y/N whispered, her voice full of emotion. “More than I could ever put into words.”
Lando smiled, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. “I know, love,” he murmured. “I feel it every single day.”
They sat there for a long while, the boat gently swaying with the rhythm of the sea, as the last rays of sunlight danced on the horizon. Isla eventually dozed off in Y/N’s arms, her tiny body relaxing completely, the soft rise and fall of her chest the only sound breaking the peaceful silence.
Lando looked down at his daughter, his heart nearly bursting at the sight. He reached out to lightly stroke her hair, his touch so gentle it was almost reverent. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” he said quietly, his voice filled with awe. “How did we get so lucky?”
Y/N smiled down at Isla, her heart swelling with love for the little girl in her arms. “We did get lucky,” she agreed softly. “She’s everything.”
Lando’s gaze shifted from Isla to Y/N, his expression softening even further. “You’re everything to me, you know that, right?”
Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. “I think you’ve told me that about a hundred times today.”
“Well, I mean it. Every time,” he teased, leaning in to kiss her again. “You’re stuck with me, Norris, so I’m gonna remind you as often as I can.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Y/N whispered against his lips before kissing him back.
As the sun finally disappeared beyond the horizon, the sky fading into a soft twilight, they decided to head back to the villa. Lando took Isla from Y/N’s arms, cradling their sleeping daughter as they made their way back to the dock. The boat ride back was quiet, peaceful, the gentle hum of the engine and the lapping of the water lulling them into a contented silence.
-
When they reached the villa, Lando carefully carried Isla to her room, tucking her into bed with the same care and tenderness he always showed. Y/N stood in the doorway, watching him with a soft smile on her face, her heart full as she took in the sight of Lando, who had once been the carefree, fast-driving boy, now a devoted father and partner.
Lando pressed a soft kiss to Isla’s forehead before pulling the blanket up around her tiny body. He stood for a moment, just watching her sleep, his heart filled with a deep sense of contentment. Finally, he turned to Y/N, slipping his hand into hers as they quietly left the room, closing the door behind them.
Once back in their bedroom, Y/N flopped onto the bed with a happy sigh, stretching her arms above her head. Lando followed, lying down beside her and propping himself up on one elbow to look at her. “So,” he said, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “What’s the verdict? Best day ever?”
Y/N turned her head to look at him, her eyes sparkling with love and amusement. “I’d say it’s definitely up there,” she teased. “But tomorrow might just top it.”
Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what do you have planned for tomorrow?”
Y/N shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”
Lando leaned down, his lips brushing hers as he whispered, “Whatever it is, as long as I’m with you and Isla, it’s already perfect.”
Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, full of the love and promise they’d built over the years. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N curled into Lando’s side, her head resting on his chest as his arm wrapped around her, holding her close.
“Thank you for today,” Y/N murmured, her eyes growing heavy with exhaustion. “It was perfect.”
Lando kissed the top of her head, his fingers gently running through her hair. “You don’t have to thank me, love. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. For you and Isla, I’d do anything.”
With that, they fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves outside their window lulling them to sleep. As Lando drifted off, his heart full and his arms wrapped around the woman he loved, he couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world.
And as the stars twinkled above, casting their soft light over the peaceful villa, one thing was certain: this summer, this moment, would be one they’d cherish forever.
୨ৎ
*:・゚ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! I’m currently writing part three of baking cookies! I hope to finish it soon and upload it soon!
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1#formula one x reader#formula one x you#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris fic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#f1 fluff#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#formula one#lando x y/n#lando x you#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norizz#ln4#ln4 fic#ln4 imagine#fluff#f1
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠
pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader
summary: your 4-year-old son, rustyn, has decided that he needs a sibling—and he’s not shy about telling everyone. from grandparents to cartoons, rustyn finds a way to make his wish known, much to the amusement of you and drew.
warning(s): english is not my native language. pure fluff, toddler curiosity, family humor, and loving reflections on parenthood.
au: like, reblog and feedbacks are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday @httpsdrewstarkey
It was the kind of peaceful morning that felt like a small luxury—quiet, warm, and full of simple, slow moments. Drew was seated next to you, scrolling through his phone with a relaxed expression, while your 4-year-old son, Rustyn, was already up and playing in the living room.
The sound of toy trucks rolling across the floor accompanied Rustyn’s imaginative play as he created stories for his toys, his little voice full of excitement. You smiled to yourself, feeling your heart swell at the simple joy of hearing him play. Life had become so much sweeter since Rustyn had arrived—a bundle of curiosity, energy, and love wrapped into one tiny human. You and Drew often marveled at how quickly Rustyn seemed to grow, learning new things each day and filling your home with laughter.
The peace of the morning, however, was soon interrupted as Rustyn toddled into the kitchen, clutching his favorite stuffed bear in one hand and dragging it behind him. His expression was serious, a little too serious for a 4-year-old, and it instantly caught your attention.
Climbing up onto Drew’s lap with determination, Rustyn placed his tiny hands on his father’s chest, his wide blue eyes staring intently up at him. “Dada,” Rustyn said, his voice laced with that innocent curiosity that always made your heart melt.
Drew blinked, setting his phone down and wrapping his arms around Rustyn. “What’s up, buddy?” he asked, smiling as he brushed a hand through Rustyn’s messy morning hair.
Rustyn shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on Drew’s shirt as if he had something very important to say. His voice was sweet but serious as he finally spoke again. “Dada, can I have a baby?”
Both you and Drew froze for a moment, your eyes widening as you processed the unexpected request. You had expected him to ask for another story or maybe breakfast, but a baby?
You exchanged a quick glance with Drew, both of you barely containing your laughter. Rustyn, however, remained completely serious, his innocent eyes blinking up at his dad, waiting for an answer.
“A baby?” Drew repeated, trying to hide his amusement. “You mean like a baby doll, Rusty?”
Rustyn shook his head quickly, his little brow furrowing in frustration. “No, Dada,” he said with the kind of determination only a toddler could muster. “I want a real baby. A baby brother or a baby sister.”
You nearly choked on your coffee, coughing lightly as you set your mug down and stared at Drew in disbelief. Drew, still holding Rustyn, raised his eyebrows in surprise, clearly caught off guard.
“Buddy,” Drew began, trying to navigate the situation delicately, “that’s… well, that’s not something we can just get right away.”
Rustyn looked confused, his big eyes darting between you and Drew. “Why not?” he asked, as if the concept of not being able to have a baby immediately was beyond comprehension.
You bit your lip, trying not to laugh at how earnest Rustyn sounded. It was clear that he had no idea how big of an ask this was. And yet, his innocence made the situation all the more adorable.
Drew glanced at you, his eyes pleading for backup. You took a deep breath, deciding to step in and explain.
“Well, sweetie,” you began, leaning forward slightly to meet Rustyn’s gaze, “babies take time. They don’t just show up like toys or presents. It’s something Mommy and Daddy have to decide together, and then we have to wait.”
Rustyn’s expression softened slightly, but the determined look didn’t leave his face. “But I want one now,” he said, his voice filled with the kind of pure, heartfelt longing that made you want to scoop him up and promise him the world.
Drew chuckled softly, bouncing Rustyn gently on his lap. “I get that, bud,” he said, his tone affectionate but firm. “But like Mommy said, babies take time.”
Rustyn pouted, his tiny lips forming a small frown as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t wanna wait,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
You exchanged another glance with Drew, both of you clearly realizing that this was only the beginning of the conversation. Rustyn wasn’t the type to let things go easily, especially when he set his heart on something. And from the look on his face, it was clear that Rustyn had already decided that having a sibling was at the top of his list.
Drew sighed softly, leaning down to kiss the top of Rustyn’s head. “How about we talk about this later, okay? Let’s get through today first.”
Rustyn nodded reluctantly, though it was obvious he wasn’t fully convinced. He slid off Drew’s lap and padded back into the living room, but not before turning back to you both with one last, pleading look.
“I really want a baby,” he said again, his voice full of hope.
You smiled, feeling your heart melt at his innocence. “We’ll think about it, baby,” you promised, knowing that this was going to be a long conversation.
As the days passed, Rustyn’s request for a sibling didn’t fade. In fact, it became a constant part of your conversations—at the breakfast table, during bedtime stories, and even when you were out running errands. It seemed like everywhere Rustyn went, he found a way to bring up babies.
One day, while you were grocery shopping together, Rustyn spotted a woman pushing a stroller with a newborn inside. His eyes lit up instantly, and before you could stop him, he was tugging on your hand and pointing eagerly at the stroller.
“Mommy, look! A baby!” Rustyn exclaimed, his voice full of excitement. “Can we get one too?”
You laughed softly, gently guiding him away from the woman and her baby, who thankfully hadn’t heard him. “Rustyn, sweetie, we’ve talked about this,” you reminded him. “Babies don’t just show up like that.”
Rustyn’s face scrunched up in frustration, and he pouted. “But I want one,” he said, his voice filled with longing.
You sighed, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “I know you do, baby. But you have to be patient.”
Rustyn let out a small, frustrated sigh but nodded, clearly not happy with the answer. “Okay,” he mumbled, though you could tell he was still thinking about it.
The next time Rustyn brought up the topic was during a family dinner at Drew’s parents’ house. You, Drew, Rustyn, and Drew’s parents—Todd and Jodi—were gathered around the table, enjoying a relaxed meal together. The conversation was light, filled with laughter and stories, until Rustyn, who had been playing with his food, suddenly spoke up.
“Gigi?” Rustyn asked, his voice full of curiosity as he turned to Jodi.
Jodi smiled warmly at her grandson, always eager to listen to whatever was on his mind. “Yes, sweetie?”
“Can I have a baby brother or sister?” Rustyn asked innocently, his wide blue eyes blinking up at her.
The room fell into a stunned silence as everyone processed Rustyn’s question. Todd choked on his water, coughing lightly as he shot you and Drew an amused look. Jodi’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she quickly recovered, giving Rustyn a sweet smile.
“Well, Rusty, that’s something you’ll have to ask your mommy and daddy about,” Jodi said with a soft chuckle, clearly trying not to laugh.
“I already did,” Rustyn replied earnestly, his little face serious. “But they said I have to wait. I don’t wanna wait, Gigi. I want a baby now.”
Todd let out a loud laugh, clearly enjoying the conversation. “Sounds like someone’s eager to be a big brother, huh?”
Rustyn nodded vigorously, his little face lighting up with excitement. “Yeah! I’ll share my toys and read them stories!”
You and Drew exchanged a look of amusement mixed with slight embarrassment. It was clear that Rustyn wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon, and now he was dragging everyone else into his mission.
“Well, Rusty,” Drew began, his tone gentle but firm, “we’ve talked about this, buddy. Babies take time, remember?”
Rustyn huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he pouted. “But I don’t wanna wait.”
Jodi laughed softly, patting Rustyn’s back. “Patience is a good thing to learn, Rusty,” she said kindly. “You’ll have to trust Mommy and Daddy to know when the time is right.”
Rustyn nodded, though he still didn’t look completely satisfied. “Okay,” he mumbled, clearly frustrated by the lack of immediate results.
Todd chuckled, ruffling Rustyn’s hair. “You’ll make a great big brother one day, kiddo.”
Rustyn’s persistence didn’t stop there. One evening, while the three of you were cuddled up on the couch watching a cartoon, Rustyn spotted a baby character on the screen. His eyes widened with excitement, and he turned to you and Drew, tugging on Drew’s sleeve.
“Dada! Look! A baby!” Rustyn exclaimed, pointing at the TV. “Can we get one like that?”
Drew laughed, shaking his head as he wrapped his arm around Rustyn’s shoulders. “Rusty, we’ve talked about this,” he said, his voice filled with amusement. “Babies don’t work like that.”
“But I want one,” Rustyn pouted, his big blue eyes looking up at Drew with a mix of confusion and determination. “I’ll take care of them, I promise!”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, leaning in to kiss the top of Rustyn’s head. “Sweetheart, I know you’re excited about the idea of a baby. But you have to be patient, okay? Babies don’t happen right away.”
Rustyn sighed dramatically, his tiny shoulders slumping as he settled back against Drew’s chest. “Okay,” he mumbled, though you could tell he was still thinking about it.
Drew gave you a playful look over Rustyn’s head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Looks like we’re in trouble here,” he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear.
You grinned, shaking your head. “He’s not going to let this go anytime soon, is he?”
Drew sighed softly, ruffling Rustyn’s hair. “Nope. He’s determined. We might have to start planning.”
Rustyn perked up at the word “planning,” his eyes wide with hope. “Does that mean we’re getting a baby soon, Dada?”
Drew chuckled, pulling Rustyn into a hug. “Maybe, buddy. Maybe one day.”
Rustyn grinned, clearly satisfied with that answer—for now. “Okay! I can’t wait!”
That night, after Rustyn had finally fallen asleep, you and Drew sat together on the couch, reflecting on the day’s events. Drew had his arm around your shoulders, and you leaned against him, both of you laughing softly at how persistent Rustyn had been about wanting a sibling.
“Can you believe how determined he is?” you asked, smiling as you snuggled closer to Drew. “He’s never been this focused on anything before.”
Drew laughed, resting his chin on top of your head. “I know. It’s pretty sweet, though. He just wants someone to share his world with.”
You smiled, nodding as you thought about Rustyn’s pure heart. “He’d make an amazing big brother,” you said softly, your voice filled with affection.
Drew squeezed your hand, his expression softening. “He really would,” he agreed. “And, you know… I wouldn’t mind giving him that one day.”
You looked up at Drew, your heart swelling with love. “One day?”
Drew nodded, his smile warm and full of love. “Yeah. I mean, we’ve got a pretty great thing going here, don’t we?”
You grinned, leaning up to kiss him softly. “We do,” you whispered.
As you sat there in the quiet of the evening, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, you couldn’t help but think about the future—the possibility of growing your family even more. Rustyn’s sweet persistence had sparked something in both of you, and though it might not happen right away, you knew that when the time was right, you’d be ready.
For now, though, you were more than happy to enjoy these moments—the love, the laughter, and the joy of having Rustyn in your life.
#drew starkey#rafe cameron#drew starkey imagine#rafe cameron imagines#drew starkey imagines#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfic#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron x y/n#drew starkey x you#drew starkey one shot#drew starkey fanfic#drew x reader#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey smut#drew starkey fluff#rafe x you#rafe outer banks#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe smut#rafe imagine#obx rafe#rafe fic#rafe cameron fic#outerbanks rafe#rafe obx
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
card trick | s.r.
in which you broach a subject with Spencer that you're sure will be a dealbreaker - you don't want kids
margovember
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst content warnings: child-free by choice, magic tricks, selfishness (like. reader thinks she's selfish), chemist!reader word count: 1.08k a/n: this was lowkey hard to write because i do in fact want kids myself and i'm such a dad!spencer truther. but there was some fun within the challenge!!! ily <3
“Do you want to talk about it?” Spencer asked, watching as you braced yourself against the wall and kicked off your shoes, nudging them in the hallway until they were in place.
You hummed in response, “About what?” You inquired casually, proceeding to hand your coat on the rack and pull the sleeves of your sweater down. Avoiding his gaze, you bulldozed through to the kitchen, searching through the cabinets for an appropriate mug to make tea in.
He followed you to the kitchen, grabbing a mug and holding it out for you to take. You didn’t live here, but you knew your way around so well that someone might’ve gotten that idea. “Whatever it is that made you get so quiet tonight,” Spencer prodded, leaning over the kitchen counter and propping himself up.
Filtering through his tea collection, you faltered for a moment before continuing, picking a chamomile tea bag and flicking on the electric kettle. The two of you had just gotten back from dinner at Rossi’s, your second one since you and Spencer had started dating, where you watched Spencer spend hours doing magic tricks with Henry and Jack. You shook your head, watching the water in the kettle as it began to boil.
“Are you feeling alright?” Spencer asked, wondering if you had a physical ailment that was causing you to shut down. He had picked you up straight from work, maybe you were just exhausted.
This time you nodded, opening the wrapper for the tea bag and tossing the foil in the bin, “Yeah, long day,” you admitted, “Did you want tea?”
Spencer was quiet for a moment, watching as you instinctively grabbed another mug and prepared a cup of tea for him as well. It was starting to get chilly outside, so a warm tea was likely to have healing properties, “Have I done something?”
Now, you ignored his question, grabbing the mugs and bringing them over to the coffee table. You sat on the couch, nestling yourself into the corner and pulling a knit blanket over your lap. In your periphery, you watched him sit on the opposite side of the couch, and it was beyond your control when you finally spoke up, “Do you want kids?”
“I’ve never really given it much thought,” he responded, and you nearly flinched at his answer, convinced he was lying to save your feelings.
You shifted on the couch, staring down into the murkiness of your tea, “What does that mean?”
He pressed his lips in a thin white line for a moment as if he were considering his options, “I’ve never really been in a relationship where that was a discussion to have, so I’ve never done an in-depth evaluation of whether or not I want kids of my own.” He set his mug down on the coffee table and turned to you, “But I take it you have.”
Slowly, you nodded, skimming the handle of your mug with the pad of your thumb, “I don’t want kids,” you whispered, closing your eyes as soon as the words were out there.
Spencer was quiet, and you were afraid that the finality in your voice would be the reason you lost him forever. No more BAU family dinners at Rossi’s. No more phone calls seeking help on a case. No more whispering nonsensical science puns to each other in the middle of the night when you should be asleep. You were surprised when he answered, “That’s okay with me.”
You lifted your head, craning your neck to the side so you could determine whether or not he was messing with you. Instead, earnest brown eyes stared back at you, “It is?”
He shrugged lightly, “Admittedly, I’m not too fond of the idea of choosing between a family and the BAU. I’ve seen enough wedges driven and bridges burned to know that that’s not something I want to experience first-hand.”
“It’s just never felt like the right thing for me,” you elaborated on your own feelings, still not convinced of his. “Sometimes I… I think I’m too selfish to be a mother,” you confessed, setting your mug down and pulling your knees to your chest. “I see people around me and the things they sacrifice for their children, and I don’t think that could ever be something I do, Spence. It’s not in the cards for me.”
Cocking his head at you, Spencer studied you for a moment, “If you don’t want to be a mother, then you don’t have to.”
Your eyes burned fiercely at his words, so shocked by his response to what had sent previous boyfriends running for the hills. “I think maybe you should take some time to think about this because you said you never have before,” you advised him cautiously, setting your chin on your knee.
He shook his head dismissively, “I don’t need to think about it. If it’s a choice between you and some hypothetical children, then it’s really no choice at all.”
Closing your eyes, you let tears fall freely down your cheeks, “I just don’t want you to wake up someday and resent me for not giving you children. I don’t want you to roll over in bed and think about how I’ve somehow failed you.”
It was that statement that prompted Spencer to reach out to you, he tenderly looped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple. “I could never resent you for making a decision about yourself like that, do you understand?”
“You’re just so good with them,” you bemoaned, recalling the flashing images of Spencer doing card tricks for the kids and refusing to reveal his secrets to them.
Spencer smiled softly at you, “It’s easy when you don’t actually have to do the raising of the children. I’m more than comfortable with my title of godfather and uncle.”
“But what if you need more?” You asked desperately, still horrified by your hypothetical day where Spencer wakes up with hate in his heart.
His other arm looped around you, pulling you closer to him, “Trust me when I say this: you are more than enough for me.” He squeezed you gently, “I can be good with kids and be perfectly content with never having any of my own. Those two things can coexist.”
Nodding absentmindedly, you leaned your head onto his shoulder, “Thank you,” you breathed, silent tears still streaming down your cheeks only to be swept away by your boyfriend’s deft fingers.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds angst#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid x fem!reader#written by margot#chemist!reader#margovember
731 notes
·
View notes
Text
THINGS THAT WENT UNANSWERED AND MY THEORIES
Why is Diavolo’s dad asleep? Where is he?
• In the game he went into a deep slumber in the bottom layer of the Devildom shortly after the brothers arrived
• I believe this slumber has something to do with age, state of mind, but most importantly the brothers and their extreme power. It brought immediately destabilization of power between the realms and I believe he may have granted his powers between the brothers when he named them—thus enhancing their sins (he split them between the brothers) as a demon without serious power or sin he may be resting to restore this energy over time or to stop the power imbalance that could threaten a war with the Celestial Realm.
What was the event that made Diavolo wish for peace between the three realms?
• In season one Diavolo tells MC that long ago something made him realize that there should be peace between the three worlds. MC supporting Diavolo in the past isn’t an answer as Diavolo already had this idea before meeting them and even before meeting Lucifer.
• I believe that one of the many wars between the Devildom and Celestial Realm happened within Diavolo’s life. The horrors of war are not exclusive to humans, a young idealistic demon like Diavolo would be traumatized into ensuring nothing like this happens in the future. It is mentioned in game that it was his father who first asked for a truce between the Celestial Realm and Devildom but it’s likely Diavolo was still alive in this time period and a war could have happened before all of this.
Will Simeon become an angel again?
• In the final lesson of Nightbringer Simeon is invited back to the Celestial Realm despite previously not having even been allowed back as a guest. They want to discuss his future and Lucifer advises Simeon to have a productive talk. Raphael also mentioned in OG season four that Simeon despite being human was much better at his “job” than he used to be.
• I believe Simeon is certainly becoming an angel again. He might be lowest rank like Luke until he discovers who he is as an angel again or he may be sent back to the ranks of Archangel. I hope he stays lowest rank for a while so he can prove his worth beyond such low ranks and will no longer be stressed by busywork. I believe Raphael will also protect him more from higher ups. I think the good example Simeon set for Raphael and Luke will reflect kindly on his future and whether he can become a seraph again considering who they became under his guidance.
What is Luke’s future as an angel?
• In the game, Michael specifically took Luke under his wing because he recognized his power. Even as a child Luke was allowed to work in the Celestial Palace. Luke came into being shortly before Lucifer and his brothers fell and idolized Lucifer once. Michael sent Luke to the Devildom to learn not to be so judgmental and to face the real world. While on exchange Michael notes Luke would be a good principality while Mammon thinks he could be a seraph.
Lucifer also believes Luke has a good future ahead of him as only Luke, Lucifer, MC, Solomon, and Diavolo noticed when Simeon was no longer demonic, not even the other six rulers of hell.
• I firmly believe that Luke will become a seraph. His latent power and guidance from Simeon, Raphael, Michael, Barbatos, and Lucifer leaves him as very open minded but firm in his convictions and morality. The timing of his birth being right before Lucifer fell leads me to believe he was created as a replacement for Lucifer and that he will take Lucifer’s place one day to lead the Celestial Realm alongside Michael.
Will Michael join the exchange program?
• In the game Michael hinted to Raphael that he wanted to and Diavolo also wondered if Michael might join one day. The others seem to believe it would be too much a hassle.
• I think Michael is the kind of person who would but wouldn’t do so normally. Maybe a very short exchange so he doesn’t stay away from the Celestial Realm for long. I also believe his presence would cause unrest in the Devildom which he may view as hostile towards the Celestial Realm. This is a great plot point I would have loved to see, especially with Barbatos and Solomon both worrying about war in the future as well as MC’s alliances.
Will there be another war between the realms?
• In Nightbringer it was hinted that things were getting more tense as more demons were trying to disrupt the exchange program and bring harm to the students. It’s also revealed that to have sent Lucifer to Cocytus the celestial realm also had to agree meaning there are also angels who strongly oppose the three worlds as coming together as both sides hold resentment for past wars and see the others as unable to change for the better.
• I believe that in the future there will almost be a war, but Diavolo will be able to prove how strong their bonds can be with MC as a prime example. MC has a connection to each realm, granting them a power so strong they need the ring to contain it which Simeon gave them and Michael allowed. The brothers and angels and others have consistently saved each other’s lives, seen past former beliefs and even a demon like Mephisto and an angel like Raphael, two people extremely loyal to their realms were able to become good friends. I believe Diavolo would use a memory ring or other power to display the greatest most significant moments between them as proof his dream can become reality or at the very least they can remain at peace.
Who is Nightbringer?
• The game more or less confirms it to be Barbatos with the teaser for the game as well as how Nightbringer and his abilities are described. Nightbringer also speaks to Solomon with the same annoyance as Barbatos.
• I firmly believe that Nightbringer is Barbatos. Barbatos brought MC to the past, disrupting the timelines and I believe this is why Diavolo asks Barbatos to never use these powers without his permission.
What happened to Solomon’s childhood friend?
• The game indirectly tells us what happens over several seasons. Solomon is said to have e summoned Barbatos at the risk of his own life as a child desperately seeking to use Barbatos’s power of time. At the time he was not the kind of person obsessed with knowledge and power but was granted power seen as cursed that led him to be hidden in a basement away from everyone but this one friend.
• I believe his friend died whether it was his powers at fault or not and he summoned Barbatos to revive his friend. It’s possible his friend died of natural causes and this is why Solomon wants to better the human world despite it turning his back on him; it’s all so children and humans in general don’t die of preventable things like his friend did.
What did the Little D.s mean when they said they’d take over the Devildom?
• In season two of Nightbringer the Little D,s laugh about taking over the castle and soon the whole Devildom.
• I think they believe they can overcome their counterparts, or at least they used to, and wanted all the power for themselves. I think after thousands of years they gave up on this idea.
Who in the Devildom betrayed Diavolo and had Lucifer sent to Cocytus? And who in the Celestial Realm agreed?
• In the game Diavolo was never able to find the results but in the modern timeline the House of Lords remains a hinderance to Diavolo’s ideas of peace between realms despite the successes he has had thus far. When Raphael asked around in the Celestial Realm he never got an answer despite being a seraph and it’s hinted that they probably know who it is among the higher ups but won’t share that information.
• I believe someone in the Celestial Realm reached out to demons they knew opposed Lucifer and not the other way around. The Celestial Realm is always in the Devildom’s business so must have known about the unrest and helped arrange Lucifer’s imprisonment in Cocytus, then sent an angel closest to him, Raphael, to read his charges as punishment to Lucifer (seeing how it affected his friends) and punishment to Raphael (for still having such a close bond with a traitor.)
Why is Barbatos forbidden from using his powers?
• In the game Barbatos is mentioned to not be able to use his powers without Diavolo’s permission on several occasions. No specific reason is given.
• I believe that when Barbatos (as Nightbringer) brought MC to the past, Diavolo at some point found out he’d caused a destabilization of their reality (but not exactly what it was he did) and ordered him not to use his powers.
Will the others ever find out about the time travel?
• In the final season Solomon tells MC that eventually they won’t be able to play off the brothers’ memories of MC in the past anymore. Barbatos is already aware of the time travel.
• I believe it will come out at some point for sure. They will remember more or come across concrete proof MC was actually there with them.
Why did Nightbringer take MC to the past?
• In the game the denkn claims it’s because it is where MC will find happiness.
• I believe that Nightbringer (Barbatos) lived in a reality much darker and bleaker than ours. I believe the brothers trapped in Cocytus triggered some kind of war or prevented Diavolo from fulfilling his dream so he used his abilities to find a way to correct it.
He sent you into the past before you became an exchange student with visions of the future he saw would happen if he brought you there to help the brothers.
Eventually you were selected as an exchange in the future, fulfilling the visions Barbatos foresaw. This part is tricky to understand but by Barbatos describes time as a thick heavy mud or soup and I believe he sees time running concurrently so even though your future hadn’t yet happened, somebody from that future was able to come help you in the past, Solomon.
It’s hard to explain but time sort of did a loop, MC of the OG was sent into the past to create the future they live in. This means at some point MC was in a very different future and knew a different and worse version of the brothers but their memories of them altered into the happy ones they would make as they changed the past—changing the future into a good one. I don’t have the IQ to explain beyond that, I tried and got lost.
Let me know if you have more questions
#obey me shall we date#obey me theories#obey me facts#obey me news#obey me Nightbringer#obey me explanation#obey me lucifer#obey me diavolo#obey me mammon#obey me solomon#obey me satan#obey me simeon#obey me leviathan#obey me asmodeus#obey me raphael#obey me Michael#obey me devildom#obey me celestial realm#obey me human world#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me thirteen#obey me diavolo’s father#obey me mephistopheles#obey me barbatos#obey me luke
643 notes
·
View notes
Text
RESPONSIBLE DADS - LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN X READER
Warnings : autistic!Zayne with his autistic daughter, all of them are girl dads here (except for Xavier who has twins), cuteness-aggression bites, one mention of a gun (no one is harmed!), no mentions of pregnancy (their kids can be interpreted as biological or adopted), this isn’t proof-read, reader is gender-neutral!
Genre : so much domestic fluff ☹️🫶🏽
Word count : 2.3K words (holy shit???)
Additional notes : This is a combination of two asks I’d received a month or two ago about the LNDS men as dads while their partner is away, and Zayne in particular struggling with his own autism vs his child’s autism. The brain rot was real in this one😭 To anyone else reading this, my requests are still closed!! These are just old requests I had in my inbox🫶🏽
Tip jar!
Masterlist
“She went down without much of a fuss,” Zayne said, slowly closing the bedroom door behind him as he set his phone on the dresser and got ready for bed over the video call, despite the time zone differences. He’d tried to convince them to just let themself rest instead of staying up past 3 AM, but they’d paid him no mind and insisted on seeing him last thing before bed.
They hummed, watching him slip out of his button up through their screen with a fond gaze. “She is really quiet compared to what I’ve heard about kids her age.”
In the midst of folding his shirt, he paused, a slight crease between his eyebrows. “A little too quiet.” At his concerned face, they straightened up in their seat and leaned in closer to their phone. “I think… she has difficulty connecting with me.”
Their expression was unsure at that. “I don’t know, Zayne. You know she loves you…”
“I do,” was his swift answer, pausing as he pulled his pyjama shirt over his head, then popping out with his hair adorably mussed. “But maybe she feels like I wouldn’t understand her.”
No matter how much he wanted to seem stoic and unaffected by the prospect, there was no hiding the conflicted emotions swimming in his eyes. With an almost sad smile, they asked him, “Even though anyone that sees you two says you have so much in common?”
With a slight flush (was it out of embarrassment as he noticed his messy hair, or was it a twinge of pride in being so connected to his daughter?) he began to apply his minimal skincare that he’d grown used to with them, scarred skin deftly being cared for after years of neglect.
“Autistic girls have different experiences than autistic boys, and their struggles are often overlooked because of these differences. Maybe she subconsciously feels that we can’t bridge that gap.”
Resting their head against their hand, keen eyes bore through him. Zayne would never go unheard as long as they were there. “Do you feel that gap?”
He shrugged, swallowing thickly as he wiped the excess off on his hand towel. “It’s not about me. Studies show that—”
Shaking their head, they sighed a little in affectionate exasperation. “It doesn’t matter what studies say. You’re overthinking it because you want things to be perfect. It’s sweet, just… not very realistic.”
“Mm. I know,” he softly conceded, combing through his hair with a distant glimmer in his eyes. It wasn’t so easy, navigating the emotions and ideas of a child that one already struggled with for decades.
They apologetically smiled at him, then added, “She trusts you with her life because she knows how hard you try to understand her, no matter how difficult that may be sometimes. You give her the space to be able to communicate her needs properly, and that’s why she loves you beyond measure, Zayne.”
He looked away for a few beats, but that was enough time for them to see the misty-eyed wonder in his eyes as he looked at the crooked drawing on his bedside table that she’d made of him holding her in his arms.
His sweet daughter who carried a piece of his heart everywhere she went.
“Then she’s just like you. Very open with her affections.” Huffing out an impossibly tender laugh, he picked up his phone once again and began to climb into bed, his shoulders sagging with relief; like he needed that reassurance to be able to nestle his body into the mattress, cold as it was without his lover. “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve it from you both…”
“You’re gonna get sick like that, and guess who’ll be cleaning up that mess?” Rafayel frowned, grabbing his daughter by the scruff of her neck and carrying her off before she got her pretty dress drenched by the wave that came crashing down where she’d been standing.
“I can’t get sick from water, daddy, and you know it,” came the reply between giggles, her eyes closed as she relished in the spray of seawater.
With a grunt, he fumbled with his phone a little as he switched to carrying her against his hip with one arm, before turning back to the ongoing video call. “Holding down the fort?” they teasingly asked, arching their brow at their daughter’s windswept hair and inevitably sandy fists curled up against Rafayel’s chest.
“She likes to bully me.” He pouted as he saw two pairs of mischievous eyes looking at him. “No guesses as to where she picked that up from.”
“Are you sure that your six year old daughter—who, mind you, is as cute as a button—is bullying you?”
“Daddy’s just silly, Lemurians are fine with water,” his daughter tried to reason with what she felt was perfectly logical. “He just doesn’t want to wash my clothes again if I get them wet.”
“And why should I?” he indignantly huffed out at the grin that showed she was definitely up to no good. “They’ll get dirty ten seconds later anyways. It’s such a pain.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t leave paint buckets everywhere, then I wouldn’t be on my fourth dress of the day.” Her sassy mutter under her breath was the last straw, and then his instincts took over and—
Chomp!
His teeth nibbled on her round little cheeks, cuteness aggression washing away any possible annoyance (which he’d been feigning, anyways) at the prospect of having to do the laundry all over again. She cried out in protest, though her shreaks of laughter and tighter hold on him gave away the fact that—not unlike his partner—she loved every bit of it.
“You got my face all dirty,” she whined, wiping her cheek against his silk shirt as he walked them back up to the house, much to his dismay.
A chuckle came from his screen, and he flushed under the sweet gaze and the grin he missed so much. “There goes another round in the washing machine. Y’know, Raf, it’s not the smartest move around to wear your favorite clothes around your kid.”
“No kidding,” he grumbled, though there was no bite behind his words. In fact, the tender look in his gem-like eyes only spoke volumes of the adoration he held inside. And maybe his little girl felt it, and decided it would be the perfect moment to press a kiss to where she could reach, right over his heart.
“I don’t mind the paint, daddy. You always make the prettiest things with it, pretty just like you,” she softly said, her tiny index finger toying with the pearlescent button on his blouse.
How much more did she want to squeeze his heart in his chest? He didn’t think he could possibly love her any more than he already did, and yet here she was, proving over and over again that she was the greatest gift he could ever be blessed with after all these years. Walking into their home with sandy feet and salty skin was no longer a dream, but a part of his quaint little life.
“Even if you did ruin my favorite dress and sandals.”
“Papa’s been asleep for three hours now,” she whined in a low voice, her bottom lip jutted out as she looked back at Xavier curled up in a ball in the middle of the unmade bed, legs tangled in the messy sheets. She then turned back to the videocall at hand. “Can’t you wake him up, please?”
Her twin brother popped up from behind her and patted her shoulders in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “He’s tired after he played with us. Let’s leave him for a bit.”
With a downcast gaze, she reluctantly nodded and walked out with him, the phone shaking as it was a little too big for her small hands.
Now out in the living room, they could finally raise their voices a little. “Papa cleaned up in the morning too. We probably shouldn’t have asked him to play with us.” He looked a little forlorn as he fiddled with his fingers. Painfully shy, it often showed when he was doubting himself. “We tried to help him after lunch, but—”
“That’s okay, what matters is that you both tried to lend him a hand,” they sweetly reassured them as they smiled through the screen. “And I’m sure if he was too tired to play with you guys, he wouldn’t have offered it in the first place.”
Their daughter gasped, eyes shining in awe at that. “How did you know that Papa was the one who came up with the game?”
“Because he waits for playtime every day, just to spend time with you guys. He’s always so excited, y’know?”
With matching grins (though one was more bashful than the other), the two seven year-olds looked significantly lighter than they had been when the call had first started. The precious moment was soon interrupted by a yawn from behind and a tuft of blonde hair taking up half the background.
“Did you two sneak off to have them all to yourself?” came Xavier’s sleep-addled voice, as he shuffled to pull them onto his lap and readjust the camera. “Cheeky, taking advantage of my nap.”
His daughter laughed, her hands going to loop around his neck. “We weren’t! Promise.”
Her brother reached up to pat down Xavier’s bedhead, gently combing through the soft locks. “You looked tired, Papa. We didn’t want to wake you up with our voices.”
At that, Xavier couldn’t help the upwards quirk of his lips, all the love one could contain threatening to burst through as he held his world between his fingertips—and the best part of him miles away but no further from the heart.
“You’re sweet, just like a certain someone we all miss,” he said, before kissing their foreheads and ruffling their hair, earning little grumbles of protest. Turning his attention back to the videocall, Xavier’s eyes softened. “How long until we can take naps together on the couch again?”
His partner sighed, glancing at the calender on the wall for a moment. “Should be three days. It’s hell without you guys. Maybe I’ve gotten used to waking you all up for an hour in the mornings.”
“Hey, it’s all because of Papa!”
“He does sleep in twice as long as us…”
“And it’s gotten even worse now that you’re gone.”
He chuckled at their sulking feeding off each other, and the collective agreement that things just weren’t the same when his lover wasn’t beside him where they belonged. “Then maybe this should be enough to convince them to hurry back to us so we can get up early every day, hmm?”
“Tell me why Luke and Kieran frantically called me up and told me stop you from endangering our one year old girl. Now.”
“Well, hello to you too, sweetie.” Sylus rolled his eyes at the clearly enthusiastic greeting. “I’ve missed you too. I’m doing good without you for two weeks. Thanks for asking.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t give me that crap. You’ll live.” Scoffing, they crossed their arms in front of their chest. “Less avoiding the topic, more explaining why your seconds in command are treating you like a ticking bomb.”
“They’re more like lackeys, you know.” A hint of irritation climbed up his spine. Luke and Kieran were more like lost puppies that would be a danger to themselves—and society—if they were left to their whims. That’s all that they were (or so he tried to convince himself).
They waved him off, knowing that his half-assed words weren’t to be taken seriously. “I beg to differ. Now, where is she and what happened?”
Silence settled for a few moments, but then he realized it wasn’t in his favor to not quickly come clean. “She was playing around with me in bed, then seemed fascinated by my left pocket. Said pocket… may or may not have had a gun.”
Leaning in close to the camera, they sighed heavily, and pinched the bridge of their nose. “And I’m assuming her magic little fingers found the trigger.”
“More or less yes,” he mumbled under his breath, swallowing thickly as he met their dead-eyed stare. “Had to whip it out and fling it across the room… which may or may not have caused it to slam into the new bookcase and send it toppling.”
It didn’t matter how many people he’d managed to fearlessly face down; pinned underneath his partner’s disapproval, he found himself unable to move. “And that’s where they came in?”
Sylus hummed, flipping the camera and showing them the fractured remains on the floor. “Sorry about that, sweetie. Didn’t have the time to clean it up, what with feeding her and getting her ready for bed.”
“It’s fine, I can build another one.” Their quick dismissal was followed by the furrowing of their eyebrows. “What matters is that you prioritized her safety first.”
“Of course,” he was quick to reply, turning the camera back to himself, before he chuckled a little, sweetness seeping through his voice, “Though I do admit, seeing her have no self-preservation instincts really did make her strikingly similar to you in that regard.”
“Really flattering, hearing you praise her brashness and compare it to mine.” Their expression then grew more serious, and they worried their bottom lip between their teeth. “But… please. Don’t keep any weapons in the same room as her. She’s naturally curious.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he murmured, having had his dose of sheer panic at her tiny hands. He couldn’t remember a moment in his life when he’d been as terrified as he was earlier, his blood turning to ice at the thought of endangering her because of his own fast-paced life.
“I know you’ll be more careful. You’re so good to her—and me,” they quietly mused, a grateful look on their face as they admired him—tired ruby eyes, unruly silver hair, and all.
And Sylus had no control over his own lovesick stare, perfectly content with dancing in their palm for the rest of their lives. After all, he’d found the only two people in this world he could forfeit his life for. There was no shame in admitting it—and so he did, ever so softly. “I suppose you can take pride in knowing that you both have me wrapped around your fingers.”
Taglist: @angry-and-yandere @nxx-jordiepord @honestlyjustablog @dawnbreakersgaze @tartartagliaboo @lucis-noctiana @riinari-sa @flurrina @reika-desu @randomidk-123 @tikitsune @cofijelli @roll-of-royces @lemonsupernova @loveyoutodeep @belovedof @obiwanmcprobie @hawtlineblingz @kalatipunan @eurekazz @bifedebruxa @thescribeswife @mysticangel123 @xenasolos @jvnluvr @dann-acalle @rosariymchapter @rin-sv14 @yololesgo @an-ever-angry-bi @semi-orangeapple @lavanderbliss @myturnwhen @winterlvod @carsonology @deepzombieyouth @respitable @stellisangelicus-world @kvsqkiii @bitchynightmarepost @snoozeflare @spotted-salamander @cindywasneverhere @ladyparamount @sncrly0urs @huntersmoon1 @musiclover2119 @girl-who-lives-in-delusion @milktsukii @fromdeepspace-withlove @flavoredhappy @hrhmimieucliffe @icedunderwaterroom @ay-chuu @granddearduck @skriblobz @nadinefromwhere @thatbaepizzalover @imhere2dosomething @saerotonins (more in replies!)
Sign up for my taglist here!
#otome#fluff#zayne#zayne x reader#zayne love and deepspace#zayne lnds#zayne l&ds#rafayel#rafayel x reader#rafayel love and deepspace#rafayel lnds#rafayel l&ds#xavier#xavier x reader#xavier love and deepspace#xavier lnds#xavier l&ds#sylus#sylus x reader#sylus love and deepspace#sylus lnds#sylus l&ds#love and deepspace#lnds#lads#l&ds#domestic#imagine#oneshot#oracleofstars
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Seeing as they clearly didn't know what the hell to do with Jinx/the political repercussions of her bombing the council in season 2, I'd like to explore the possibilities of how Zaun would've reacted to this that would've made way more sense than what we saw.
1. Jinx becomes an extremely controversial figure.
Few are neutral to her. This would be largely because, outside of knowing she blew up the council, no one actually knows WHY. What were her motives? Were they politically charged? Was she trying to start a war? What exactly was her goal? It was never really stated that she was infamous prior to this, but I recall in season 1 act 2 that when Vi went looking for her, people knew OF Jinx, and that she worked for Silco, but weren't really aware of any further details. So those that are aware of her connection to Silco- who objectively did make many of their lives worse with Shimmer- wouldn't be happy. They'd be scared of what will come next.
Those who don't know/don't care might fill in the blanks with their own guesses, maybe that she's some kind of activist- which would split them further into the subgroups of "Oh fuck the enforcers are gonna kill us and it's her fault" and "Finally, a war!" The second of which I'd argue would actually be a very small group. I could imagine the Jinxers being seen by the rest of Zaun as crazy radicals who don't know what they're getting themselves into/are gonna drag the rest of Zaun into danger. I think it would cause a LOT of infighting. Like a civil war inside another civil war.
How Jinx would handle this would be.... interesting. Especially if the Jinxers start making moves on their own. She never really shows much interest in activism- she works for Silco because he's her new dad, and while she doesn't seem to DISAGREE with his opinions, it doesn't seem she's all that invested in actually working to make it happen beyond just wanting to help her dad. His death seemed to take her interest with it.
Now, they could either lean into this, and make people question her motives/actions because of her clear disinterest, maybe increasing some of the controversy around her (no follow through on her action, letting Zaunites suffer the consequences, etc.), or they could make her actually take a genuine personal interest in it. But that, I think, would take a bigger arc that might be more work for arguably less payoff when considering you'd probably have to change a great deal of her character to do it, especially when you could probably achieve similar plot points/outcomes even without her intentionally becoming a political figurehead.
2. Zaun becomes fractured politically/other "symbols" of Zaun
This can be in tandem with idea 1, actually, but can still be it's own idea. Basically, after the fall of the council, and Silco's death, Zaunites are terrified. They've been run so far by Vander, Silco, and then some vague council-like oligarchy of Chem-Barons, who could be interpreted as functioning like very large gangs. The Chem-Barons have always been around, but with Silco's sudden death (and no one who was primed/expecting to replace him), this leaves a massive power vacuum that the Chem-Barons and smaller gangs are scrambling to come out on top of.
The fear of the unknown and the extreme instability would lead to people desperately throwing their lot in with whoever they think would be a better/less dangerous leader, and by extension, political symbol. Season 2 shows a bunch of new people joining the Firelights. In that case, I can imagine that before long, several new potential leaders surface, even if they didn't expect it. Namely, Ekko, Jinx, and Sevika.
Ekko because as I said, people were apparently coming to his base in droves. They don't tell us Jack shit about the Firelights besides the fact that A) Ekko leads them B) they don't fuck with Silco OR Piltover C) Piltover thinks they're terrorists and D) they look rad as fuck. That being said, considering Ekko's Everything, I think we can all gather a general picture of what the Firelights are about. Plus his cool tree would be a great symbol (@srslylini for the idea) of growth, healing, etc.
Sevika, because those that knew her as Silco's second might be hoping for some kind of stability with her. Even if they didn't like Silco, it's better the enemy you know and all that jazz. They'd feel safer with someone who at least seems to know what they're doing, even if Sevika herself has no interest in becoming a leader. I think some would just naturally gravitate towards who they see as "second in line". This could also be in connection to Jinx, as she could possibly been seen as someone who could "rein" Jinx in (again, most people don't actually KNOW Jinx, they just know OF her and that she worked for Silco and was volatile. Think how Finn referred to her as Silco's "attack dog").
Speaking of Jinx, she'd probably be treated similarly to idea 1. Extremely polarizing. Her followers would be seen as crazy, like she is. They'd be seen as warmongers and/or people who have no idea what they're getting themselves into. They'd basically be seen as the stereotypical "young rebels". The average Zaunite would see the average Jinxer as a young, angry, maybe idealistic radical who doesn't understand the cost of war. I'd argue that, again, they'd probably be the smallest and most controversial group just because most people don't necessarily WANT a war, even if they're willing to fight for it. And the suddenness of the bombing would've scared even some of the rebels who DO want war, because they weren't prepared. It wasn't a PLANNED attack, so both Zaun AND Piltover are basically caught with their pants down, which would also bring some ire from the other Zaunites.
There's another option for a faction I'd like to explore, also thanks to srslylini (thank you icon), but it takes a bit of setting up.
In a hypothetical situation in which Vi did NOT become an enforcer, I think it would happen like this: Vi hangs around in Piltover at first out of guilt/feeling like she has nowhere else to go. She's still not on board with being an enforcer, but she attends the memorial out of a sense of obligation. Her and Caitlyn have a falling out over Caitlyn calling Zaunites "animals", and here is where she storms off and goes back to Zaun, with the final words to Caitlyn that "You Pilties are all the fucking same" (or something to that effect). She's still feeling lost, and so maybe this is where she stumbles around, having maybe a similar pitfighting arc (just not as distraught, more like she's broke and angry and has to pay rent somehow so she might as well get paid to punch someone's face in). Because she's not in a massive spiral, there's unfortunately no emo arc (sad), but the bright side of this is that she's recognizable. I don't think she's FAMOUS, per say, but Babette and Ekko recognized her right off the bat in season 1 (yes you can say Ekko was really close to her, but Babette? C'mon), and considering she was older than Powder when she went off to prison, I don't think it's a stretch to assume her face was a little better-known than her sister's (especially considering she was already going on jobs, and in act 1 she gets into a fight with Deckard who I'm pretty sure knew her name, but not Powder's).
This is to say, I think a lot of the "old heads" knew who she was, especially those who liked Vander. It helps that she tattooed her name on her face LMAO. So I'd imagine she'd show up in the ring, no hair dye no makeup, and eventually after consistently knocking her opponents around and winning every time, she'd become a bit locally famous again- to the point that those same "old heads" who remember her make the connection and come looking. Maybe rumors start swirling, especially once they learn she was gone because she'd been in prison- not unheard of, and probably the first conclusion they drew when they realized she wasn't dead.
So eventually Vander's old followers/younger people who idolized him from their childhood start seeking her out. Sensationalizing her. Asking her what she's planning on doing. Is she taking back the Lanes? Will she get those Chem-Barons under control? What about Jinx? Could she hunt her down, rein her in? Hell, maybe even put her to use? Will you give us our relative safety, our security back?
And Vi, who just wanted to knock some heads around and maybe take a nap in her apartment and cry, is suddenly faced with being "Vander 2.0" and Jinx is the new "Silco 2.0" and all the weight of expectations and legacy and history and literal war and politics are being shoved in her face. She, like Jinx, is now faced with becoming a figurehead when she never wanted to be, which could lead into option 3:
3. A joint approach to Zaun
This would primarily be driven by Sevika even if she wasn't one of the possible leaders, because SOMEONE has to be the responsible adult here and it's certainly not any of these traumatized losers (affectionate). She'd be the glue to keep it all together, the reluctant team mom who WILL make this work because she WILL have Zaun even if she has to die to get it.
This could work with either Jinx and Vi, or Jinx, Vi, and Ekko (I genuinely can't imagine season 2 act 1 Ekko willingly teaming up with season 2 act 1 Jinx AND Sevika without some kind of buffer). Basically, once the other "leader candidates"/political symbols have been established, Sevika would round them up with the intention to use their influence to unite Zaun against Piltover. This would take a LOT of arguing, but ultimately I think she'd be able to get them to shut up and hear her out for a moment. Regardless of how different their beliefs are about what the "ideal Zaun" looks like, they can all agree that Piltover isn't in any of those pictures. She could convince them to set aside their own squabbling for the time being, for the greater good: aka, the independence of Zaun.
At the very least, I think she'd be able to get them to agree that Piltover coming down and hurting Zaunites in revenge shouldn't be ignored, and that they're currently a bigger threat than their fellow Zaunite. So eventually they'd reach some kind of truce: behave like a united front against Piltover, push them out of Zaun, stabilize Zaun, and then worry about tearing each other apart later. And because all of these characters- ALL of them- have shown (prior to season 2) anti-Piltover sentiments, they'd at least be able to agree that enforcers shouldn't be allowed to beat down on their people (especially in this version where Vi has better, more consistent writing lmao).
Of course, Rome wasn't built in a day, so maybe they don't reach a total agreement immediately- maybe they just agree to a ceasefire at first, but still refuse to work together. But once Caitlyn becomes a dictator? Once enforcers start gassing the streets, rounding people up, implementing martial law?
That's when the gloves would come off.
I'd imagine this could also be part of how Vi and Jinx slowly start to repair their relationship. They've got bigger fish to fry, but also, this time their enemy is connected to their own personal conflict with each other. Jinx might ask, "what happened to your enforcer girl? What happened to being a Piltie lapdog?" And Vi would essentially, in perhaps more emotionally constipated words, explain that it wasn't really about Caitlyn, it was about being needed. It was about trying to find Jinx, about trying to stop Silco, about trying to "fix" things, only realize that she couldn't. It was about trying to make things better, but that she realized the person she was trying to do that with didn't actually care. That all she wanted was to make sense of the destruction of her old life, and find meaning in a new one. And I think Jinx, too, in her own emotional constipation, would resonate with that, would understand that. It wouldn't fix things between them, but I think it'd be a start.
It could also help their relationship with Ekko. Since Vi isn't an enforcer this time, and season 1 (the One True Season) showed their sibling relationship, I think her and Ekko's bonding would be more like "reconnecting with an old friend", whereas Jinx and Ekko would have a lot of work to do, too. There'd probably be a bit of a cold war between them for a while, once Ekko agrees to help, because he knows actually talking to her would piss him off. But eventually, through Sevika's manhandling of these three, and being forced to make nice with reluctant-figurehead-Jinx, they'd connect again.
Perhaps part of a plan is for them to develop new technology for Zaun. Whether that's weapons against Piltover (unlikely on Ekko's part I think), or just safety gear/ safer city infrastructure ideas for the betterment of their people, I think eventually they'd figure themselves out, too. He'd see the Powder in her, the part he saw on that bridge, and maybe it would give him the ability to try and understand Jinx. And Jinx would realize that maybe these people in her life DO love her, DO care about her, more than just for what she used to be but for who she is now. And somewhere along the way, they'd be friends again (or they can date IDK or care man I just want them to stop trying to kill each other).
Whatever happens next is so wide in possibility that I can't possibly cover it here so this is where it ends, lol.
#jinx#arcane s2#sevika#ekko#vi#special thanks to srslylini fr#i just think this plot line was a waste#they couldve tied it all back into the cycle of violence stuff#with silco and vander and undoing the mistakes of the past#of seeing that and taking their legacies and building something new#but instead we got whatever the fuck marvel plot season 2 was#arcane critical#arcane criticism#arcane#arcane s2 spoilers#alas what could've been#also totally irrelevant but cait WOULD get executed in this version sorry these are the rules
332 notes
·
View notes
Note
Could you write something about jude realising he’s in love with you (so just his pov)
Just him alone in his room maybe and after so much time denying his feelings he lets himself feel for a little and then realises there’s no back to normal, he’s completely head over heels for you
wait i actually love this?? lmk what you think for future purposes 🤭🤍
while jude always denied to idea of love, falling in love, being in love, there was certain exceptions he made just for you. only you. how he could deny that bubbly and tingly feeling when he saw that smile crawl up to your face?
hear you constantly gush, praise, and adore him about how incredibly he was to you. what you didn’t know is that only you were the only one he was doing this too. he should’ve seen it coming after the first month of him in madrid, new, afraid, yet excited to take on his first season.
while jude sometimes felt shy, with you it was like being a whole complete person. his friends would see it, mom and dad, he’ll even jibe was asking what made this new persona in him suddenly change. it was your effect.
yet here was jude sulking with the biggest frown on his face, his thumbs brushing against the screen debating whether or not to send you a message or just say fuck it and call you. jude knew you would be busy studying on a saturday night, especially since your mid terms were coming up. thinking about how you forced him to help you study your flashcards and he took the whole act seriously.
jude felt out of place, and all he wanted was to be with you so desperately. the longing feeling, to feel how you curl up next to him, blabber about the tiktoks you see or your professor who seemed to teach the opposite of what they were supposed to. why did he feel so desperate, the itch becoming more difficult to the point where his chest would begin to pang with pain at the thought of you not there.
“just call her bro, what do you have to lose?” jude’s teammate encouraged over the phone, jude sideyeing him before he gave up and did just that. he typed out your number, wanting to remember it because he never knew when he may need it. the bubble of excitement yet nerves built insides him, jude sipping on his tea before he heard your tired voice.
“hi jude, to what do i owe this pleasure?” you teased, jude holding back a chuckle before replying. “ha ha, very funny. what are you up to right now?” he asked playing with the strings of his hoodie, “i just finished studying for the night, i couldn’t focus properly but it was the same material from this whole week,” you sighed. “is everything okay?” jude asked, practically seeing your nod over the phone. “yes it is now.”
“do you want to come over?”
if jude spent another hour debating he would’ve lost it. but now that you were here, right where he wanted, he wasn’t going to let you go. “okay cookies are made!” you said excitedly, jus expressing behind you and kissing your head. his normal and lovey habit. which you didn’t refuse either. “i picked out a few movies we can watch in the mean time,” he said dragging you to the couch.
jude’s heart couldn’t stop racing. he felt like he could’ve exploded any second now. your scent, the homey feeling, your smile, your touch it was driving him insane. he knew it was beyond playful feelings. he was head over heels for you, and if he didn’t confess now he would regret it later on. he shifted in his spot, making you pull away from him while still watching the tv. “come back here,” jude pouted.
“you’re so needy,” you joked but it was the whole truth. “y/n?” jude’s voice trembled, your eyes drawn to his immediately to ensure he was okay. jude felt a cold tingle spread down his spine, feeling more alive then ever. “what’s wrong-”
“you know you mean the world to me right?” jude started shifting up and getting closer to you, your touch hot against his hands. “i do?” jude nodded, tracing his initials against your skin. “you’re my whole world, y/n…”
“jude stop joking like that,” you pulled away, looking him up and down, but you could tell something felt different from this, from usual times. “i’m not, im being serious right now. i’ve avoided it forever with fear of hurting you or what we have but i don’t care about that now. i’m done waiting and avoiding how i feel,” jude stressed.
“what are you saying,” you asked, jude’s heart wrenching and pounding louder then when he played a game. “i’m saying that i love you and i have for the longest now,” jude said staring into your eyes but all he heard was laughter escaping your lips. “yeah you’ve lost it now,” you got up and went to the kitchen unable to get rid of the gut feeling.
jude was more nervous then ever, your small rejection getting to him more then it should’ve. “y/n why would i lie to you about something like that? you’re all i think about day and night. during training, when i see those silly panda stickers all over my room, or that damn scent you have engraved here,” he pointed to his chest.
“i’m so incredibly in love with you y/n. im tired of just pushing my feelings away because i was being selfish. im ready now, im ready for you. for us. i want to whatever it takes to make you happy with me. all i want is you, you y/n,” jude cried out, his voice pleading the hear him out. to take him out the misery he felt. for you to confess as well.
“jude-”
“y/n please say you love me back… that’s there’s a chance for us, please my love…”
160 notes
·
View notes
Text
Past.
a/n: YALL WANTED THIS BAD OMG so pt 2 to my before fic, basically it goes a little further back and a lot more in detail after his planet blew up :3. This one’s long! But Tysm :)
Past boothill x reader ft some headcannons. (Gender neutral w some fem indication later on)
forwards reckon rebound
--
-Boothill was a sweet kid, a little dumb at times but he always gave his effort. Always curious and helping out on his families farm, helping his dads with his siblings as hes the 3rd oldest .
-He never gave much trouble as a kid, always listening other than sleeping in more or sleeping on hay sometimes.
-his family wasn't made of money, but he always had everything he needed or want.
-Growing up with the idea girls had cooties...as he eats crayons.
-he learns guitar as he got one for christmas, he goes to the local church to learn how to play it. He'd bring his scuffed up cd player to show the teacher the songs he wanted to learn.
-His parents take him out every weekend, teaching him how to hunt, ride a horse or how to shoot a gun.
-he has a habit of looking off into the distance. Wide eyes as he looked off into the sunset wondering what was beyond his small family and tribe.
-He loves stories, often reading picture books at the library or getting one of his parents too read it to him before bed. As well as sneaking into his dads room to watch his shows, his favorite being of an outlaw.
-His family went to church once in awhile, but always went during christmas. Boothill hated dressing up, but he loved the songs. When he learned guitar would join as well, playing christmas songs.
-Everyone in town knew him, he was always making a name for himself.
--
-You'd show up in his life while he was in school, messily drawing on his math paper (instead of doing it) with his tongue out as the teacher announced a new student. As you were a new student in 3th grade, boothill being boothill would introduce himself as the class sheriff to impress you.
"I'm Boothill, the class sheriff! I keep everyone in line, and make sure they all do what they're supposed too!" he said in a confident tone puffing out his chest.
-Thats where it all began.
--
-the teacher put you beside him which made him often pout and utter that you had cooties, while he didn’t do his work.
-he often ‘patrolled’ during recess but in reality no one wanted to play with him. (Since he had two dads and he looked nothing like them) they didn’t like how different he was from them. So he decided to give you a shot, since you also only sat on the swing set.
‘Hey..’ he said with a slight frown ‘..I’m not busy today patrollin’ wanna play’ he asked looking away with a small dust of pink on his cheeks
‘..sure, you can push me’ you said perking up
—
-after that you’d always sit on the swing set together, as he’s talk about anything and everything. How he didn’t like waking up early, how his youngest sibling kicked him in the shin, his horse, how Nick complimented his shooting. He loved talking about his family
‘..maybe you should come over.. you’d like the meatloaf my daddy makes’ he said kicking his feet against the dirt ‘if you want too.. it’s a big White House with a barn ‘bout 10 minutes from town’
‘I’ll ask about it, I’d like to see your animals. All we have right now is chickens, and they get annoying’
You went to his farm, his family was happy he'd made a friend. That was the first of many visits!
--
-You two soon became inseparable as you grew older and closer, everyone in town knew when one was around the other probably was too.
-Always going to school festivals together, shopping, staying out at night, laying in fields at night looking at the constellations, coming home wet from splashing each other with water.
-It was a romance from the novels you read, the only part left was the confession. You often thought about it, 'maybe this week..' you'd think as another day went by and he hadn't confessed.
-Until that faithful day
-The sun was setting, it was a day like any other. He seemed a bit on edge but it was normal.
-
He was sitting up, his chin resting on his shoulder as he stared out at the cornfield near his house mindlessly. The sky a peachy tint as you laid on his sheets, looking up at him admiring his long hair and jawline. '...I like you" he said softly his gaze never leaving the window.
'really?' you couldn't believe it, finally it happened. 'I like you too, ya know' you replied still admiring his figure. His gaze meets yours and eventually his lips. The same lips that introduced himself in the past, chapped yet soft.
You'd never felt more in love.
-
-the next few weeks didn't change much, kisses here and there and he'd get more touchy. But he also spoke more about the future, how he wanted to either build or fix a older house. He wanted a small family, a farm and barn animals.
'I'd like to fix up that house at the end of town" he said leaning against the barn door looking off into the distance once more, as you looked over his barn cats kittens. 'You think you could?' you add standing up and leaning in front of him
'Yeah, make it all nice and pretty for you' and smile wrapping a hand around your waist. 'A pretty kitchen, cozy livin' room, big room..' he said with a small giggle kissing your nose.
'it'd be a dream baby'
-Soon after he told you he was dropping out of school, he was 17 and decided he didn’t need to further his education. And just help out his dads on the farm, while he scrapped together some money. You were mad, but understood he had a different path and mind than yours. Even if you tried arguing with him that he only needed 2 more years to graduate, he’d blow it off and just go fix his truck.
-but while you were at school getting educated (weirdo) he eventually fixed up the old house at the end of town he always spoke about. He’d also made a small ring, with a single stone on it. He could afford a real promise ring, but he thought this one was more special. Even carving their initials on it.
-one day when you both were old enough, and you were out of school be finally brought you to the home. And promising to stay by your side.
‘Your lyin’ you said looking at the delicate ring
‘..no? I want you to be by my side, while I save up for your weddin’ ring’ he said softly slipping it onto your finger.
‘Cause your my past present and future’ he said pressing pecks all over your face.
-soon you both lived together, slowly building your life on the farm, getting chickens, moving his horse from his family’s farm to your forever home. It was a dream all over again
-it was mundane, you would tend or the animals and boothill would fix things and do the heavy work or sometimes you’d do the heavy lifting and when he’d leave for a few days. At the end of the night you’d lay in bed together. You wouldn’t have it another way.
-when there wasn’t work done he’d sit out under a tree playing his guitar, watching you put his shirts on the clothes line. As he hummed and played love songs.
He’d sneak up on you snatching you into his arms and tackling you into the grass. As he admired your laughing face.
-19 was when he found the baby girl in the cold, lost in thought. When he heard the cry, and your lives changed once more. Now a family of 3.
-it was hard, you didn’t make much money. But his family had hand me downs, boothills old crib and toys. You’d sew her dresses, boothill would attempt at making hats and mittens for her as well.
They were always too big, and he’d say she’d grow into them while the girl sucked on the fluffy oversized mitten in his arms. Looking up at him with wide eyes, he wasn’t even 20 and he felt fulfilled.
-when she was a little older and starting to crawl around and walk a little, he carved her a small cherry wood guitar.
She couldn’t play it, but when he had his out he gave her the small guitar so she could ‘play’ along side him.
-he loved the days where he’d sit outside and the little one was waddling around picking up dandelions and handing them to him
‘Oh for me? Their so pretty darlin’’ he smiled softly ruffling the girls hair and letting her waddle around more as she babbled to herself.
-sometimes he’d think of leaving but
-it was all perfect, a house he’d fixed, a barn with animals, his perfect lover, a daughter, all he needed was to make it official. An engagement ring.
-he was saving for months, finally he had the money to buy the one you were eyeing at the store.
‘I’m going to the market’ he announced putting the bills in his wallet.
‘Can’t I join? I got a bad feelin’ Boothill, them ipc people don’t like the town’ you said.
He hesitated ‘it’s just my usual errand nothing special’ he replied kissing you. ‘I’ll be back take care of her for me’ he smiled kissing the girls cheek.
—
Only to return to ashes, he’d heard two workers joke about this very tragedy. He thought nothing of it. Not till he heard the explosions, and saw the flames. He couldn’t bring himself to go inside, he can’t imagine what it was like.
He couldn’t bring himself to tears, those twenty years he’d spend building his life with you gone.
The ashes of your once blue home, the farm on fire. He couldn’t bring himself to search for your bodies, he barely made it to find your family pictures.
He didn’t sleep, for 3 days and then he slept for 3 days straight. Before leaving behind two crosses over the sight.
And he finally left the planet, he spent a few months searching before he found a doctor that could help him.
He decided he needed to end his life, to kill his current self. Leave his past, and that’s exactly what he did. His mechanic fixed him.
All he remembers is the taste of metallic in his mouth and seeing his heart removed, as he died.
His rebirth into Boothill
—
Basically a yap session and excuse to talk ab him again after the 2.6 story line :P might add or not
Hope you enjoyed 😣
tags :3
@jassy-ine @shuzoku @sneakylilbartender @kita-01 @edxo @blueangelstone
#💫.cloud.luver#honkai x reader#honkai star rail#honkai imagines#boothill x reader#boothill#boothill x you#honkai boothill#hsr boothill#boothill hsr#bootyhill#hsr headcanons#hsr x reader#boothill honkai star rail#honkai angst#boothill fluff#hsr shitpost#boothill angst#hsr spoilers#hsr#hsr boothil#hsr 2.6#boothill star rail#boothill x y/n#yapping#honkai x you#honkai headcanons#boothill headcanons#honkai sr
153 notes
·
View notes
Note
supreme leader, would you ever write a sequel to ‘ground rules’ where our baby with joe is here and it’s just a cutesy dad!joe moment? (also wouldn’t be opposed to some smutty times as well bc i just can’t go past gotta-be-quiet-cause-the-baby’s-sleeping-but-fuck-i-want-you-right-now-new-parent-smut) heart you, as always!!
we're switching gears, everyone! sorry for the whiplash! Wordcount: 3K
---
Only Have Eyes For You
(read Ground Rules here)
Joe has yet to stop staring at her.
It’s either eyes on her, or eyes on you, and even though you’re gorgeous and make his chest swell beyond what he thought his ribs could ever manage, looking at her is different.
New.
“Will you keep an eye on her?”
“Yea, of course I will. Go get some rest, please, baby.”
It’s been over an hour, and he still needs to raise a thumb up to wipe a tear from an inner corner about every thirty seconds. For several reasons, too.
It’s been five hours since you’ve given birth, and both sets of grandparents – grandparents, that sounds so fucking wild – have left evidence of their visit all over the room. There’s balloons, cards, flowers, bags with gifts in for you and for the newborn baby girl and Joe feels like they brought too much and too little. Were there for too long but left too soon. Should’ve been there right after instead of two hours later, but also maybe should’ve come to meet the baby tomorrow instead of today.
He wants to protect and hide this little girl from the world, but also needs everyone to see how gorgeous she is.
Five-hour old baby, fast asleep in her clear plastic bed that’s been placed right next to your hospital bed where you’re asleep even faster.
He’s got no idea how much sleep he’s gotten over this weekend. Doesn’t care, either. Just knows that he’s staring at perfection no matter which way he turns, and that the small of his lower back aches because he’s been sitting in his chair weird, but this is the only way he can both touch you and see her little face.
Her perfect little face.
Joe’s got a hand around your ankle as you lie passed out in your hospital bed, finally in what seems to be a deeper sleep rather than just a quick nap, and he wishes you could stay like that for at least the next ten hours. He knows it doesn’t work like that with a newborn, and you’re obviously in a hospital which doesn’t help, but God, you deserve to sleep for a fucking lifetime.
Everything that surrounds you looks and sounds normal, so he guesses your blood pressure must be okay, but he keeps his ears pricked, just to be sure.
The birth was a long one. Almost everything you had tried preparing for hadn’t happened in the way you’d expected, which is what everyone kept telling you was going to happen, but it was still frustrating. It did however feel very fitting with how the two of you had even gotten together.
It was a good thing you managed to pull through most of the labour with humour.
Doctors and nurses had started making jokes of you becoming permanent residents when your dilation had halted at six centimeters for ages, and in return, you had started making jokes that they were going to have to start knocking before coming in, because you knew of a way to induce the labour that Joe would feel more comfortable about if he had some privacy.
“No, no, I do not–” Joe had immediately protested the first time you’d cracked the joke, and the lack of laughter coming from him plus your weird eyebrow wiggle had only made the nurses laugh louder.
“Sorry to inform you,” the doctor said in the middle of giving you another check. “But having sex will not cause labour to begin before your body is ready for delivery.”
“It won’t?” You’d acted all heartbroken. Made Joe mutter, “Jesus Christ!” under his breath, because, you were six centimeters dilated for fuck’s sake. Of course he wasn’t going to have sex with you.
“We’re still not in labour, are we?” the doctor said, insinuating that he thought you had probably tried it at home already.
“Ask him how many times we’ve had sex...” you’d challenged immediately, making Joe groan from the corner of the room where he was sort of pacing around, facing the wall more than the room, because there was another man with fingers deep inside of your vagina, talking to you about sex.
“Can we please focus on—” Joe started, equally as embarrassed as he was humoured by you.
“Once.” You answered your own question and gestured at your stomach. “One time! All it took!”
It had become a running joke between the two of you that Joe didn’t think you were going to involve so many other people in. Joe had gotten you pregnant and then hadn’t touched you since.
Not true. There had been plenty of touching. But you were super pregnant when you’d gotten together and it never felt right for Joe to insert parts of himself into parts of you that felt like they belonged to a whole different person for the time being.
Which actually made a lot of sense to you.
It was just unfortunate that hormones had made you super horny for half the pregnancy.
Hence why it had become a running joke.
One that really annoyed Joe. You were lucky that he loved to hear you laugh and to see you smile so much.
When the two of you were left alone again, Joe scolded you through a smile and pressed kisses to your temple, because you were being funny and entertaining even though you’d just gotten bad news. Again.
Joe lovingly touched your stomach, and pressed his cheek to yours as he looked down at it and said, “You’ve made it too nice in there. She doesn’t want to come out.”
“Remember when we were like, let’s do this as friends...” you joked, but Joe could hardly focus on your light tone of voice when you grabbed hold of his bicep with a strong grip.
“Idiots.” Joe commented, finding your hand and covering it with his.
“I think we would’ve been able to do it, but—”
“You think so?”
“Yea. I was very determined. But, this is nicer.” You smiled and made eye-contact with Joe. He was quick with a tissue, to dab at your wet eyes. He’d learnt to be ready for every and any emotion over the past few days; everything and anything could bring you to tears.
“I wouldn’t have been able to do it.” Joe said, smiling too. “I was already sort of head over heels if I’m honest. You were determined for two, I think.”
That had made you burst into actual sobs.
The last hour of giving birth, you’d cried non-stop. A weird silent steady leaking of water from your eyes as you struggled through the delivery. Joe guessed it was the pain – had to be, because, what the fuck was even going on? How the fuck had nature decided that this was meant to be normal? But then finally, when soft baby cries filled the room, one of the nurses said, “You’re there, you’re done. Relax, we’ll take it from here.” He’d realized then that it they were tears of exhaustion over anything else.
You’d been going for hours, and then your blood pressure did something funny after the placenta got removed, so now they wanted to keep you for a bit, which was scary. But going home with a newborn sounded even scarier, if he was honest... so he wasn’t going to complain about how uncomfortable his chair was.
Or how tired he felt.
He’d been going for hours too, but his tired was different from your tired. He could feel it in his bones, sure, but it was easy to keep his eyes open. Easy to keep staring at her. Easy to do jobs whenever someone asked him to do one.
“Mum’s done. Now, dad, come here. Pay attention.”
And he has not been able to stop paying attention yet. He’s listening to your breathing, paying close attention to the rhythm because you’re the priority after all that’s happened. Yet he can’t keep his eyes off of his baby.
There’s a baby next to your bed.
The one he watched you gave birth to.
Your baby.
His baby.
He thumbs another tear from the corner of his eye before it leaves a wet trail down his face and uses his sleeve to dry both his eyes as he pushes his nose into his elbow for a second, not letting go of your ankle.
Life is ridiculous.
He still feels emotional over seeing you scream and cry, in pain and all sweaty. You’d performed a miracle, but it was no fun to witness how difficult the whole thing was on you. Had he not already convinced you to be with him, he would have started that quest today and would’ve likely never stopped.
When he blinks his eyes back into focus, it’s to you stirring in the white sheets of your hospital bed.
He freezes.
Maybe if he holds his breath and doesn’t make a single noise, you won’t wake up. He’s not sure how easy it’ll be to fall back asleep if you pull from your unconscious state completely. He wasn’t there when it happened – had gotten hauled off to help wash and dress his baby (the tiniest clothes he’d ever seen still too big on her, he was pouring tears as he tried to put the socks on and hated how you weren’t there to see it) – but he was informed that you lost a lot of blood and needed a lot of stitching.
After going through all of that, you’d needed stitching.
Your baby had been taken to get cleaned up, and you’d told Joe to go with her. To watch her. To stay with her and to not lose her out of his sight.
He’d listened.
Knew better than to tell you no.
But then you were left on your own, and you’d needed stitching.
You can’t move without wincing now, and Joe could probably jog home if he really wanted to. How is that fair?
Joe holds his breath, and watches you stretch your spine in your sleep before you relax again.
But then suddenly, your slow movements turn jumpy as you jolt awake with a gasp. It makes Joe jump almost just as much, and he narrowly avoids your knee to his face.
He watches you wince in pain, clearly uncomfortable, but then you immediately sink back into the mattress when your eyes find the clear plastic baby bed that holds your child, and you release a relieved breath.
“My God,” Joe whispers, already humoured by what just happened. “She’s still here, calm down.”
“Sorry,” you croak, curling a hand around the edge of the hard plastic and Joe watches your knuckles go white.
“You okay?” Joe’s already up on his feet, hand on your face to wipe your hair back.
With your eyes still closed and head slumped to the side, you softly answer, “Hmm. My vagina hurts.”
“Yea, of course.” Joe nods, unable to look at you without all the sympathy in the world displayed on his forehead. “Do you need anything for the pain?”
“I need to pee, but I don’t want to. It’s already burning.”
“I’ll go get someone.”
“Please.”
Joe gets a nurse in, and he helps you get out of the bed before you’re helped over to the toilet. Not before you tell Joe to watch her. Watch the baby.
“I’ll keep an eye,” Joe says, because he’s already found it’s his new favourite thing to do. To stare at her. “Go pee.”
The door to the bathroom is left open, and Joe listens to your conversation as he does as he’s told.
It’s a lot of, “Careful, mum. Careful. Slow movements.” coming from her, and a lot of hissing in between your teeth from you. A lot of, “Is this normal?” questions coming from you, and a lot of “If you feel this, it’s probably for this reason, which is totally normal.” answers from the nurse.
Joe gets the room and the fresh new little person all to himself for a second, and he leans all the way over your bed, feet still on the floor, his head resting in both hands as he slowly blinks at what you’ve created together.
He can’t get over how you’ve made this.
Two people have just gone and accidentally made a whole new person... it’s legitimately insane, Joe thinks.
The peeing takes longer than Joe thought it would take. He doesn’t blame you for taking your time, but he hopes that you figure out how to do it without being in pain or needing any help before you get to go home.
Joe hears a shocked gasp coming from you before you softly ask, “That’s a lot of blood. Is that a lot of blood?” followed by a toilet flushing and a reassuring, “Absolutely totally normal. Don’t worry.”
Baby is still asleep. Soundly and so peacefully, small tiny nose doing a perfect job at breathing, Joe’s already so proud of her it’s stupid.
“Well done, mum! First bathroom visit!” the nurse claps her hands together and laughs when you give a sarcastic yay in faux celebration.
You’re miserable, but Joe can hear your smile through everything and it makes his heart swell even more with pride. For you. For urinating. He’s proud because you peed, what the hell.
He shares his first secret smile with his daughter. “Mummy peed!”
You get helped back into your underwear and joggers, and Joe lets his view distract him enough that he almost doesn’t hear what you ask just before you step back into the room.
“Six weeks before sex, right?”
You’re joking, but Joe hears the serious confusion when the nurse asks, “Oh, have you not been talked through—”
“We have. Don’t listen to her.” Joe interrupts, and when he looks over his shoulder to see you shuffle back over to the bed, he catches the cheeky smile you’re trying to hide.
Before he can say anything else about how he’ll have you wait twelve weeks if you keep bringing it up, he catches your eyes flash in pain, just from your small shuffling steps, and he’s up in an instant. Pushes himself from your bed and turns to place both hands under your arms to make sure you’re safe and supported.
You hold onto him like a lifeline and pause in place for a moment.
God, the labour is done. Can you have a single second without any uncomfortable sharp pulling down there? Jesus.
You don’t see how Joe and the nurse share a look over your shoulder. The nurse is smiling at him, and Joe gives her a tired shake of his head as he rolls his eyes, quietly communicating that the girl he’s chosen to have a baby with is an actual menace.
“Maybe eight weeks?” Joe carefully jokes, hoping it’ll get you to laugh and forget about how sore you’re feeling for a second. Instead you just sigh and go, “Yea, maybe.”
You’re helped back into bed by four hands, shuffle slowly into position and leave enough room for Joe to join you.
You’re sore and tired and in a weird emotional state, and it’s simply much nicer to be all of those things squeezed tightly up against him. Joe knows to curl into you with his whole body and lays an arm over your pillow for you to place your head on. It gives the both of you the perfect view of your baby.
Your baby.
You feel a flash of want for her. To have her in your arms. Against your chest. To hold and hug and keep her close. But she’s asleep and you’re not quite sure what to do when she wakes up. What if she cries and you can’t get her to stop? This is safer.
You can both just watch her.
“I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” the nurse says after checking a file, and you ask, “To help me feed her?”
The nurse smiles, says, “Yea sure, that too.” and leaves.
You make a funny face, confused, and look at Joe like you think she was being rude.
“To check on you.” Joe softly says, and your face drops immediately.
“Oh. Yea. But I feel fine, now.” your focus is barely on yourself. There’s this whole other brand new human to be worried about.
“Hmm. Okay. Think you can sneak a little more sleep before she’s back?”
“Probably not.” you say, but Joe sees how you close your eyes anyway. Feels how you carefully move your hips back a little to feel more of Joe against your body. Feels how you grab onto his arm and firmly press it into your stomach that’s still big and round, but all soft and squishy now.
“Can you try?” Joe whispers, lips touching the shell of your ear.
“Will you watch her?” you’re already sinking away. Joe’s body heat is pulling you under quicker than he’d anticipated.
“Of course I will,” Joe says, but lies, and watches you for a moment instead. You’re his priority. Thinks it’s silly how you wouldn’t accept that if he told you. “I’ll watch her.” he confirms, not lying then, because he’s talking to his daughter as he says it.
Joe watches you until he feels you drop of the deep end. Feels you relax in a way he’s not felt you relax in ages.
After a while Joe repeats, “I’ll watch her.” in a barely-there whisper before he places a barely-there kiss against your cheek as you sleep.
His gaze moves back to the small baby girl in the room, and Joe’s eyes immediately well up again.
It’s stupid how even just the sight of her feels new and unexpected again. Like he’s seeing her for the first time once more.
And he simply finds that, once again, it’s so easy to stare.
Finds he can’t stop staring.
“Yea, I’ll keep an eye,” Joe whispers to himself. Thumbs another tear from his inner corner before it can run down his face and bother you.
“I’ll keep an eye.”
---
The Taglisted
@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons
@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevitalifestyle, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer
@everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959
@hanahkatexo, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven
@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr
@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise
@pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid, @readergf, @royale1803
@skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson
@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow
@witchwolflea, @yunirgo
add yourself
#joe quinn#joseph quinn#joe quinn x reader#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn fanfic#joe quinn fanfic#joe quinn x you#joseph quinn x you#joe quinn fanfiction#joseph quinn fanfiction#joe quinn x Y/N#joseph quinn x Y/N#icallhimjoey#rpf#ground rules#inside out & outside in#only have eyes for you
186 notes
·
View notes
Text
Worms, worms, worms!
Pairing: Modern!Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 1.2k | warnings: none
Summary: Eris's son Atlas is finally asking the important questions about life and how far his dad’s love extends
Author’s note: and that’s a wrap on @erisweekofficial for me!!! Had to end it with this idea from @pit-and-the-pen. I had a lot of fun. I posted 32.7k worth of words about this ginger man who won’t leave me alone (and probably have 10k worth of words sitting in my drafts that I didn’t finish).
It had been raining for three days in Autumn. Eris woke up to a small body tackling him, giggles filling his ears as a tiny but loud voice screamed in his ear, “worms!”
Eris quickly clamped a hand over the toddler’s mouth, looking over to find his mate still snoring lightly. He looked back at his son, hand still clamped to his mouth but he felt the grin beneath it.
“Let me get dressed and I’ll find you in your room.”
That was not a suitable answer for Atlas, who was currently in a phase where being away from either of his parents was considered cruel and unusual punishment. His little lip wobbled, tears quickly springing to his eyes before Eris realized his error.
“You can stay as I dress if you are quiet and do not disturb your mother.”
His whispered words were stern, but Atlas nodded and Eris removed his hand from the toddler’s mouth. He walked backwards, watching Atlas cuddle up in his spot on the bed, his little body wanting to cuddle up to his mother.
Unfortunately for Atlas, you had spent the night throwing up, and in a hormonal fit banned Eris from the bathroom. He couldn’t decide what was worse - comforting you while having to watch you vomit or having to listen to you throw up in the comfort of his bed.
The two of you were still trying to figure out when to tell Atlas his reign as the youngest Vanserra was coming to an end, but there was still time before you began showing. You hardly showed at all while pregnant with Atlas - maybe Eris would be lucky and not have to tell Atlas until the babe arrived and then his son would be so enamored with the thing he wouldn’t have time to be upset. Atlas loved his cousin, Nyx, but there was no telling how he’d respond to another child around permanently.
Eris pushed away his doubts and scooped Atlas into his arms. He carried him through the door and down the hall back into Atlas’s room before setting him down on his bed. The miniature version of himself looked up at him, a tiny furrow in his brow.
“Worms are outside, Dada.”
“Yes, but if you want to find worms, you have to dress for worms, not wear your pajamas.”
Eris moved through the drawers, finding clothes for Atlas to wear, as well as his raincoat and mud boots. It took several minutes of wrangling and holding him down to get his son dressed, but he looked adorable in the bright yellow raincoat. The hood of it even had tiny eyes and a bill sewn into it, courtesy of his Aunt Elain.
The day Atlas grew out of loving ducks would be a very sad day for Prythian.
The two walked down the hall, or at least they attempted to. Atlas’s boots made him waddle ever so slightly when he got too fast, which was very often as they got closer and closer to being outside. They went to the back of the house, Atlas’s boots squelching with each step in the wet ground. Beyond the house, just before the trees, was a clearing that Atlas has figured out is the perfect spot to go hunting for worms. The land was full of mud - occasional hoof marks and carriage tracks, but the air smelled of fresh rain and dirt.
Eris turned his head just in time to hear a plop as he watched Atlas sit in the largest puddle he could find, sticking his tiny fingers into the mud, squishing the mud in his fist as he giggled in happiness. Eris hiked up his pants before crouching down next Atlas, balancing on his heels as he helped Atlas dig in the dirt. A short silence overtook the pair interrupted only by a soft squeal and wet dirt being flung into the air, thankfully in the direction away from Eris.
“Atlas.” Eris’s voice was stern, a sheepish look on his son’s face. “We’ve talked about this.”
“No throwing dirt.”
Atlas was an easily excited child. He loved all things in nature and oftentimes was not wholly aware of his surroundings, leading to several people having what is now commonly known as ‘Atlas dirt incidents’. Whenever they would complain to Eris, he would look down his nose at them and ask, “why were you standing so close to a boy playing in the mud?”
Eris continued helping Atlas dig through the mud, his soft squeals of excitement reminding him of Clover’s new litter of pups that happened to coincide with this newest babe. The pup will be six months older than this new addition, plenty of time for Eris to train them a good bit.
Atlas’s own dog, Pumpkin, had remained inside - usually as rambunctious as Atlas, it was a funny sight how the rain caused him to cease all interest in expending any energy. He was likely sprawled across Atlas’s bed, the wetness in the air outside keeping him asleep.
Atlas's small hand had formed a fist in the mud, the ends of a few worms wriggling, attempting to escape his clutches. Eris lightly grabbed his son’s hand, trying to get him to relax his grasp. He often got so excited over the worms he found, he would inadvertently squeeze them to death. The tears that formed from that seemed to last for a week, his son’s voice trembling as he asked over and over again if he was getting banished to Illyria for being a worm slayer.
It would be funny if Eris didn’t have to be the one consoling Atlas.
“You love me, right Dada?”
“More than you know.”
Eris held onto a few of the worms so his son could look at each worm individually. As if he were inspecting them, his eyes assessed each worm with intense focus, before he would proudly proclaim the worm’s name. Last time they did this, Atlas named seven worms - three were named Pumpkin, two were named Mama, and two were named Dada. Despite his many talents, Atlas wasn’t very creative with worm names.
“What if I was a worm?”
It’s on the tip of his tongue, the resolute what a silly question, why would you be a worm? But Atlas’s big eyes looked up at him, dulling his sharp tongue. He kept Atlas’s gaze, trying to soften his own and smiled.
“Very much.”
Atlas would tell you later on about this and you would spend all week teasing Eris by asking, “would you love me if I were a tea kettle?” and “what if I were a cow, hmm?” You would tease, despite the fact that Eris was sure you had asked him your own fair share of silly questions.
That’s okay. He’d take the teasing. He’d carry you and Atlas around in his pockets, providing fresh dirt every day if he had to. He’d do anything to make the two of you happy, including indulging his toddler’s questions about life as a worm.
He would love a worm if it would spare his son a moment of heartache.
Divider by @tsunami-of-tears
Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl
Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124
Thanks for reading❣️
#gingerfucker#acotar fanfiction#eris fanfic#eris vanserra#eris x reader#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra x you#eris vanserra fanfic#eris vanserra x y/n#eris x y/n#eris x you
361 notes
·
View notes
Text
Oldest Daughter Dick™ is probably one of my favourite things ever. And it always will be and here's why:
Of course Dick loves his siblings and of course he loves that they know Bruce as the father he is. But it won't stop the jealousy he feels. And no one gets it, not even Jason. They were all raised by Bruce Wayne, he was raised by Batman.
When Dick came to live with him, Bruce had no idea how to he a father. How to handle normal kid stuff like sicknesses and school events let alone the fact he was an acrobat. He was Batman and Dick was raised to be not just his successor but the only contingency plan he had against himself.
Bruce never held his punches ("That was a good block but I still got you, didn't I?" Bruce had said, rubbing cream into the blossoming bruise on Dick's side. "I'll get you next time," Dick had promised, young eyes challenging. "You better." Bruce had grinned back.) All attacks were to remind him that he was at a disadvantage strength wise and thus needed to re-evaluate his lines of defense and offense.
Dick was raised by the paranoid-in-his-late-twenties-probably-shouldn't-be-a-dad-despite-what-Marisol-said Bat. A fun game of catch? He was dodging Batarangs. Learning to drive? It was the Batmobile and he was age 14 (and a half). School events? He was fumbling, awkward and did not want to be there (but still was because he'll be damned if his boy didn't have his support.)
And you know that's fine, Dick was fine. It wasn't Bruce's fault he didn't know how to be a proper dad, despite Alfred's parenting books and videos. And he did try, he was always there. But it just really hits a sore spot everytime he sees Bruce hold a punch before he knocks Tim out cold or when he's behind the wheel with Steph telling her what not to do. Or even when he's at school with Damian and Duke making Marjory and her cupcakes look ridiculous compared to him and his coconut crumble cakes.
It also irritates Dick beyond senseless whenever the topic of sparring with Bruce is mentioned. ("We can all beat the old man Goldie, he's ancient." Jason shrugs off and Dick wanted to scream.) The only one who even tries to sympathize with him was Cass. More than likely because she'd seen him fight as Batman The Dark Knight before seeing him fight as Bruce The Father of Six-Almost-Eight.
And it just really stings because he can't relate to being raised by Bruce the way the others can't. Bruce changed for them, not him. And maybe that kind of hurts. But maybe he's overreacting.
What he doesn't realize is he's the reason why Bruce changed. Bruce saw the hurt and anger in Dick's eyes when he fired him from Robin (Think Shifu denying Tai Lung the Dragon Warrior scroll). He knew the second he saw the betrayal in Dick's eyes after seeing Jason as Robin, that he'd have to change. (The same way Shifu should've changed for Tigress but I digress, not that fandom).
Bruce pulls his punches because he hated seeing Dick limp away from their sparring matches—despite the fire and promise of a rematch in his eyes. He teaches them how to drive regular cars before the Batmobile because the one time Dick crashed (while trying to avoid some of Poison Ivy's vines) his heart rate skyrocketed so high Clark had called him up demanding to know if he was okay. He shows up for Duke and Damian and Cass and Tim because Dick's smile whenever he saw Bruce in the parent's lounge never failed to make him melt.
Bruce stands firm on the fact that while he may have made a hero out of Dick, Dick Grayson made a father out of Bruce Wayne.
#dc comics#batfam#dick grayson#bruce wayne#batman#dc robin#Marisol was Dick's social worker#Yeah Bruce had to spend a half an hour reassuring Clark that he was fine and Robin just scared him a little#(half to death#he saw the light)#I stand firm on the headcannon that Bruce's contingency plan for himseld has and always will be Dick#The rest of the batfam don't know why since Dick's the only one who takes fhe no kill rule harder than the old man himself#but whatever#Bruce and Dick angst is my favourite flavour#I hate it cuz I love it
604 notes
·
View notes
Note
now im curious, as someone who ships them what are things you think they'd need to overcome?
so i don't have anything that i think for sure they'll have to deal with because i simply do not know what is happening. but i can think of some potential stories + facets of Them that could be the underlying cause of strife in their dynamic. this is so long sorry in advance
classic workplace relationship stuff. like ok they practically have to do secret relationship hijinks which is Funny. however maybe they're keeping it a secret to avoid one of them having to transfer (as much as i love fujo bobby). alternatively maybe fujo bobby lets them stay together but after they get together their easy acceptance of the risks they take doesn't feel so easy anymore. i actually think it would be CRAZYYYY good if they turned the classic assumption on its head and it's BUCK who's anxious about things happening to eddie (given their history and the way buck has responded in the past this makes sense 2 me but whatever the specifics don't matter). omg maybe one of them passes on some kind of promotion or opportunity without talking about it because whatever bathena is made of buddie is the same idk. maybe their relationship just gets in the way of them doing their job somehow in ways i cannot currently envision.
obviouslyyyyy chris is something they'll have to think about. and parenting in general. theoretically chris could respond badly to them dating but that would be lame. i'm way more interested in seeing them try to navigate defining buck's role in chris's life and having inevitable problems rise out of that despite all three of them feeling positively about the change. buck has been a father figure for most of chris's life but he does not actually parent him. chris's abandonment issues are tied pretty specifically to shannon leaving him and his dad ... how do buck and eddie get through buck and CHRIS having actual issues for the first time possibly ever??? is buck even confident about taking on the actual parent role? is eddie actually ready for his family dynamic (which has been him and chris against the world for like, a decade) to change in a formal way? it's easy when they're best friends but that's because eddie doesn't see them as a real family unit, which comes with certain obligations and expectations. he's not thinking about those right now but he tends to struggle a lot and over-correct when he does have to take them into account and i don't think buck would know what to do with that, especially given his. ummm. insecurities.
kind of in the same vein but like they will have to think about the future. at some point. i get the sense that neither of them have thought about what they want (ACTUALLY want) their lives to look like in a concrete way beyond just "i am happy and loved and not dead and chris is happy" for a myriad of reasons. kind of in the same vein as above—do they want more kids? me personally i am enamored by the idea that. well eddie loves being a father. buck loves children but he has never thought of himself as a father or gotten close to being one. i would LOVEEEE to see him grapple with anxiety over this now that he's with someone he might actually have kids with. marriage? eddie has a lot of hangups around his being a bad husband. this is actually the thing he was worried about when shannon told him she was pregnant—he didn't know if he could be a good husband. is that something he's dealt with? buck knows eddie's baggage around this is complicated and he's also very aware of his own impulsive history. this show is basically fanfiction so i can see them wondering in turn if their relationship is going at the Correct Pace and hitting the Correct Milestones but not like. talking about it. careers? with the caveat that this is tv so they play fast and loose with policy. if they want to keep working together they may need to forego promotion. alternatively what if one of them gets a job offer elsewhere (that they obviously won't take because neither of them will ever leave LA) ... are they willing to make that move? etc. etc.
their families may have opinions. about their relationship. which hasn't been an issue thus far for either of them but well they are soulmates so the evil buckleys and evil diazes have the potential to cause problems in some way. (pretty much all the other couples have had in-law issues or non-issues at some point soooooo).
in general, both buck and eddie let their own wants take the backseat and are not particularly forthcoming communicators (although they're better about it with each other than they are in their actual relationships and i imagine they will continue to be way better about it). buck tends to be a passive people-pleasing partner, and eddie is far more decisive and willing to steer a relationship—it's just that he doesn't tend to operate off of his actual desires, just his fabricated internal compass. i think it would be interesting if they bumped up against each other in this way somehow because being together has caused a blind spot to develop where they used to be able to read and evaluate each other with a lot of clarity BUT because it's Them and they know each other they can actually work through it... whatever it is... and GROW. i just think that given that these tendencies are pretty much what led to the failure of all their other relationships it would be good to address them and show. that they are not only soulmates but working to build something that lasts.
#asks#WEOWWWWWWW THIS REALLY IS SO LONG#SORRY I RAMBLED SO MUCH!!!!!!! HOPE THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR.#911 txt#*
139 notes
·
View notes
Text
As much as I adore the idea of Alan being like a dad to the Color Gang, I am absolutely feral for interpretations where that’s not really the case.
Or, more specifically, when those feelings are very one sided.
The CG look up to him and adore him as a parental/guardian figure, loving him almost like a father, especially Orange in particular who 110% sees and loves Alan as a father figure, while Alan himself sees himself more as a tolerant friendly landlord; just a dude who’s letting five stick figures live on his computer and not really interacting with them (except for Orange) very much beyond playing a few games for them or sparring with them. And even with Orange, it’s more of a friendship relationship than a parent-child one. Just generally pretty emotionally detached/distant towards them, not really feeling very strongly about any of them. Sort of how IRL Alan speaks about them as characters; fond, but not loving*. He still largely just sees them as stick figures. Like smart little living desktop pets.
Which makes all of the potential scenarios where they meet on more equal grounds (Stick!Alan AUs and IRL!Sticks/Human!Sticks AUs) potentially very juicy.
The CG and Orange in particular are always very excited to meet and actually interact with Alan, and Alan just feels overwhelmed and awkward by all the affection/attention. Or perhaps even confused about why they seem to like him so much.
Which can very quickly turn into a situation where the Gang notices that Alan doesn’t seem very comfortable around them, that he’s not nearly as excited and enthusiastic about finally being able to touch and hug them as they are with him. That he seemed to be kind of distant from them, withdrawing away from them. Oh, he’s friendly and polite, and he’ll talk to them, he’s not being mean or ignoring them or anything, but it’s not really like how they always imagined meeting him would be. It’s not as happy and joyous. He doesn’t interact/engage with them on his own. Doesn’t offer hugs or pats or much affection at all. He’ll do it if they initiate or ask, but he never gives anything of the sort freely.
Perhaps they think it’s because everything is so new and fresh, that maybe he’s feeling a bit overwhelmed. Maybe he just needs a little time to get used to them.
But when they give him that time…nothing seems to change. And they’re just left even more confused and concerned. Why was he acting like this? He was never like this before… (or so they think.)
Or perhaps a situation occurs where it’s revealed that Orange sees him like a father, or perhaps Orange even calls him his father, and Alan denies it. Corrects him. Tells Orange that he’s not his parental figure, that he always thought they were just friends. That all of them were just a bunch of sticks he was letting live on his computer. He wasn’t their dad, where in the world did they get THAT weird idea from? He was just Alan, the owner of the computer they made their home on. He barely even knew them.
And the Gang is both shocked and heartbroken. They hadn’t known Alan felt that way, just as Alan hadn’t been aware of how they felt. It was so easy for misunderstandings and misinterpretations to happen between them when they couldn’t really communicate very well.
But Orange, Orange is devastated. It hurts, so bad, because Alan literally created him. Alan was his creator, the closest thing to an actual parent he had. And yet Alan didn’t want to fill that role towards him, didn’t want to be his father. He could have seen and understood Alan not considering himself the others’ parent, since Alan hadn’t made them, but Orange was undeniably his.
But Alan didn’t want him like that. Didn’t see him like that.
He was just a stick figure who frequently helped him animate and lived on his computer. The fact that Alan made him appeared to be irrelevant.
So Orange puts on a smile and accepts it, apologizing for misunderstanding. But inside, he’s raw. The rejection feels so awful.
And it stings just how relieved Alan looked after his apology, like he was grateful that they weren’t arguing about it.
Because they don’t. What more was there to say? Alan had made his feelings on the matter very clear, and who were they to try argue against that? To challenge him, and demand he change his feelings towards them? To demand he love them? No, that’s not how things worked. That wasn’t how love worked.
You can’t try to force someone who doesn’t love you to love you.
Instead, Orange goes to his room, and sobs. It hurts so much. It feels like a chunk of his heart has been ripped out, leaving a giant empty gap where it had been. He can’t stop thinking about why Alan didn’t love him even though he made him. He can’t help but wonder if it’s because somehow he wasn’t good enough. Or if he’d done something wrong.
Or if it was because he was just a stick figure. Not human. Not a “real” person in Alan’s eyes.
He doesn’t know, but it hurts all the same.
The others, too, mourn the loss of the only parent-like figure they’ve ever known. They never knew their own creator, whoever the person who actually made them even was, they only ever knew Alan. It stings, how all of his weird recent behavior now makes sense. He hadn’t needed time. He had never loved them as much as they, apparently mistakenly, thought he did in the first place. It leaves them feeling empty and bereft, at a loss for what to do with themselves now.
And Alan is left totally oblivious to just how badly he’s just hurt them all.
And totally oblivious to what he himself has just lost, the potential for what could have been.
…At least, until he goes through some Character Development and inevitably has some Realizations that “Oh shit, those actually ARE my kids, oh fuck what have I done?!” And he needs to claw back the gangs’ love and affection and trust they’d since given up on.
* - [Or at least that’s how it always felt for me, watching AvG reactions, though that could just be because IRL Alan just sounds kinda bland and introverted in most of his commentary on his own animations lmao “I mean I like Orange.” Bro that is your main character that has been spearheading your entire career for a literal decade, why do you sound about as enthusiastic about him as if someone just asked you about your favorite weather type lmao jk jk]
#alan becker#ava#animator vs animation#ava alan becker#ava color gang#headcanons#This headcanon is accentuated by the fact that I see Character!Alan as single and childless#Dude goes from a loner Animator to single dad of five and doesn't realize it for years#I love when characters are dragged kicking and screaming into Dadhood#Side note: If Chosen discovered Alan rejected Orange he would be VERY pissed off at Alan#Chosen doesn't much care that Alan doesn't care for him as a child since he's long since accepted the lack of care from his creator#But Orange? ORANGE? Chosen will not stand for Alan hurting Orange; in ANY way#Alan's face would very quickly become intimately acquainted with Chosen's fist#Also Side Note: A secret reason why Dark hates Alan so much is that he's still really bitter that Alan never loved him.#And he still secretly yearns for his affection and acceptance but hates himself for it. Sees it as childish weak feelings#Headcanon that the Hollow-Heads mockingly sling the title of “Creator” at Alan to hurt him; to forcefully remind him that he made them#Green Yellow Red and Blue are just happy to be there tbh#The FSF: This is our adopted dad! We love him very much :) Alan: UHHHHH???
100 notes
·
View notes
Text
Horrorfest: This Confession Has Meant Nothing (Yandere Derek Goffard x Reader)
Title: This Confession Has Meant Nothing [Yandere Derek Goffard x Reader]
For Horrorfest request:
I don't have much of an idea beyond Derek as Patrick Bateman style serial killer. You're his final girl/boy. Surviving his spree. he hates how fascinated he is with you.
Word Count: 748
notes: yandere, mentions of killing, derek wants to (maybe) kill you; reader is a sex worker
You are one, stupid ugly piece of shit. You’re worthless. Gutter trash. So far beneath him that you’re almost not worthy of killing; not worthy of him scuffing his shoes, handcrafted genuine leather that costs more than rent at your shitty apartment for a year. More, maybe.
You are nothing. Just some bones and a meat suit, just something to bide his time with, something for him to (maybe) fuck and film and when he’s bored enough, dissect. He even tells you his real name (Derek Goffard, and you looked impressed, and you SHOULD BE) because he’s going to kill you so why not?
You’re just something to discard with the morning trash, the morning paper, maybe his nice shoes too because he can buy a new pair whenever he fucking wants. An inconsequential speck.
And yet.
He can’t stop thinking about you.
About the way your lip curled up at him when you realized what he’d done to Susie or Cheryl or whatever her name was. Doesn’t matter. A woman he bought for the night after he bought you, and you were pretending to get along so well that for a moment he assumed your first reaction to seeing her bleeding out from the knife sounds in her torso would be to reach out. Grief. Horror. Shock.
But no. Instead, you’d looked at him… straight at him… like you had the fucking right And you sneered. Actually sneered! With this look of hatred in your eyes that told him you thought you were better than him, that he was shit and you were gold.
You really were fucking stupid, weren’t you?
But then how--and the thought creeps into his brain and he smacks it out viscerally with his hand--did you get away from him? How did you make it out of the condo, into the hallway, down the stairs (ALL those stairs) and out the front door into the night? How hasn’t he found you yet?
Maybe you didn’t have to be smart to survive. Yeah. That made sense. Animals survive in the wild all the time, don’t they? Not all rabbits are eaten by wolves. Some are just fast enough to scurry off into some hole to hide out in, to live another day, to fuck and breed and repeat the cycle until they are either roadkill or fall prey to an eagle or some shit like that.
You were his rabbit.
But he wasn’t going to let you get away. He couldn’t imagine you getting away, cleaning yourself up, getting out of the city. You’d get some job that pays the rent and meet someone; maybe you two would have kids, and you’d be a grandparent or something ridiculous like that, decades down the line.
No.
That wasn’t what he wanted for you. Not when he’d killed so many others in the past few weeks. Not when he recognized you for what you were: his, in some way. His to kill. His to finish with.
Yeah, that would be nice. After he killed you, he’d take a break from it for a while. Maybe see if he could get a promotion at his dad’s business. Find someone to get engaged with--appearances, and all that--and pop out a kid. He could always go back to killing if he felt like it.
That’s the way the world works. He was allowed to kill because he was richer and smarter and better looking. You were going to die because you were nothing beneath his (expensive) shoes.
He just has to find you first. Oh, and when he does… he presses his face against the car window, breath fogging it up. He can just imagine what he’ll do to you. Hurt you. Kill you. Keep you? All three sounded enticing.
His fingers itch, his cock goes hard, just thinking about it.
The street lights are dim in this part of the city, but bright enough for people to make out the faces on the corners, the curve of bodies standing close to the curb.
If you ran, you might have run right back here; where you ply your trade and get your drugs and maybe have a few people you call friends. It’s where he picked you up the first time, after all.
And he’s got all the time and money in the world to track you down again.
#derek goffard#derek goffard x reader#the price of flesh#tpof fanfic#afterwitch writes#aw horrorfest
437 notes
·
View notes