#the scene he dreamed of suffocating his dad

[star4daisy]

me and my inability to stop Barty from killing his father on fics or avoid implying that he already did

[leona-hawthorne]

AURORA / mattheo riddle

requested / part 2

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary: in the aftermath of the second wizarding war, mattheo is sent to azkaban for his crimes. when released and faced with the harsh reality that you had, unbeknownst to him, had his child and had been raising her alone all these years, he falls apart.

based on this lovely request right here!! @isntthatsweetiguessso sorry for taking literally a month bb ily and this brilliant concept

warnings: angst, mom!reader, dad!mattheo, swearing, sad but happy ending!!

words: 4.6k

a/n: so sorry to the person who requested it for taking so long :( i hope this is something like what you had in your head. its very long, fluffy part 2 is out now!

navigation mattheo riddle masterlist part two

The world outside Azkaban had always felt like a distant memory to Mattheo. The walls, the cold, and the constant torment of his own mind had been his reality for six long years. But now, walking the streets of Diagon Alley as a free man, the memories felt sharper, more painful. He had imagined this moment so many times—stepping back into the life he'd left behind, finding you, and maybe, just maybe, picking up the pieces of what you two had.

But nothing could have prepared him for this.

It was supposed to be a simple walk—an aimless stroll to ground himself, to remind himself that he was no longer trapped in that hellhole. But as he turned the corner, there it was: Brews and Stews. The same café you both used to sneak away to when the world got too loud. His heart clenched at the sight, and before he knew it, his feet were pulling him closer, as if some invisible force was guiding him back to the past.

Then he saw you.

You were sitting at one of the outside tables, sunlight bathing you in a warm glow that made you look almost ethereal. His heart stuttered in his chest as he stood frozen on the cobblestone street, staring at you like a man starved. Six years, and you were still the same. Beautiful, captivating. You were reading a book, the furrow of your brow as mesmerizing as ever.

For a moment, he considered turning back. He didn’t belong here. Not anymore. You had probably moved on; you had to. Six years was a lifetime. But just as he was about to retreat, the small figure next to you caught his eye.

A little girl, her brown curls bouncing as she laughed, sitting beside you at the table. She was a blur of motion—happy, full of life.

"Mama, look!" the child giggled, holding up a small trinket, her voice full of excitement. "Isn't it pretty?"

You smiled, reaching over to stroke her hair, and that’s when Mattheo felt the world collapse around him. Mama. The word echoed in his head, ripping through his chest like a knife. His stomach twisted painfully as he watched the scene unfold before him.

You had a child.

For a split second, his mind couldn’t process it. A child. A little girl. With you.

His heart thundered in his chest, and his fists clenched at his sides. It wasn’t possible, was it? You had moved on. Of course you had. Six years was too long for anyone to wait, especially for someone like him—a man who had done unspeakable things, who had been imprisoned for it. Why would you wait for him? And yet, the thought of you with someone else, of you having a family, was enough to suffocate him.

He took a shaky step back, the weight of the realization crashing down on him. He wasn’t ready for this. He hadn’t prepared himself to see you like this. But just as he was about to turn away, you glanced up.

Your eyes locked with his, and the world seemed to stop.

"Mattheo?" Your voice was a breathless whisper, as if you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. The expression on your face shifted from shock to something else—something he couldn’t quite read.

His breath caught in his throat as he stood frozen, every muscle in his body tensing. You were staring at him, those eyes he had dreamed of every night in Azkaban now filled with confusion, and something else... regret, maybe?

But then the girl looked up too. She had your eyes, but the rest of her—the wild brown curls, the soft slope of her nose—it was like staring into a mirror. She had his features.

He couldn’t move. His gaze flicked between you and the girl, heart hammering in his chest as his mind screamed for answers. The question hung heavy on his lips, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask it.

"Come on, Aurora," you said quickly, standing up and gathering your things. Your voice wavered, the panic evident as you scooped the girl into your arms. "We have to go."

You brushed past him without another word, holding the little girl tightly as you hurried away from the café. His body moved instinctively to follow, but his feet were rooted to the spot. He watched you walk away, the weight of the unanswered question heavy in the air.

Aurora looked back at him once, her big, curious eyes staring into his, and then she was gone, disappearing down the street with you.

He stood there for what felt like hours, his mind spinning. That girl—Aurora. She was his. He could see it now, clear as day. He could feel it. The brown curls, the shape of her face, the way her eyes had stared at him with that same intensity he’d seen in his own reflection.

His daughter.

The realization slammed into him, nearly knocking the wind out of his lungs. How could you not have told him?

With heavy steps, he set off down the street, following the path you had taken. His heart pounded in his chest, each step bringing him closer to the confrontation he had dreaded but needed. He wasn’t sure what he would say, wasn’t sure how you would react.

But one thing was clear: he wasn’t going to lose you again. And he wasn’t going to lose his daughter. Not after everything he had already lost.

Mattheo’s heart pounded in his chest as he strode through the narrow streets, the weight of what he’d just seen pressing down on him with every step. The world felt suffocating, spinning around him in a blur of emotions—anger, betrayal, heartbreak. His hands shook at his sides, clenched into fists as he tried to keep his mind focused on the only thing that mattered now: finding you.

You couldn’t have gone far.

Aurora. Our daughter, the thought kept repeating in his mind like a relentless drumbeat. His daughter—his little girl, and you had never told him. He hadn’t known, hadn’t been there for anything. The rage simmering inside him was barely contained as he searched the crowd, every face blurring together until he finally saw you, ducking into a quieter street with Aurora still in your arms.

His legs moved before he could think.

“Y/N!” His voice was a shout, desperate, raw. You didn’t stop. “Y/N, stop!”

You glanced over your shoulder, eyes wide with panic, but you didn’t slow down. Mattheo’s breath was ragged as he pushed through the crowd, forcing his way closer. He wasn’t letting you run from this. He wasn’t letting you run from him. Not again.

Finally, you reached a quiet alleyway, and Mattheo caught up to you just as you were fumbling with your wand, trying to Apparate. His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

“Mattheo—” you started, but he cut you off, the fury burning in his chest.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” His voice boomed through the narrow alley, raw and loud. “Is this what I think it is, Y/N? Is that my goddamn kid?”

Aurora flinched at his raised voice, her small body shrinking into your arms. You immediately shifted her to your other hip, turning her face away from him.

“Mattheo, not here,” you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced down at your daughter. “Please.” And the first conversation you’re having after six years is going to be an argument.

“Not here?” he spat, eyes blazing with fury. “That—That’s my daughter,” he sputtered. “You fucking kept my daughter from me. Don’t tell me to calm down.”

You winced at the venom in his voice, but you didn’t move, your eyes pleading with him to lower his voice. “You don’t understand. Let’s just talk about this. I didn’t know how to—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he repeated, louder this time, his voice trembling with rage. “You didn’t know how? You knew damn well how to keep her from me! You didn’t even try, Y/N.”

“I…” You hesitated, the guilt written all over your face, but Mattheo wasn’t letting you off the hook that easily.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?” he forced out, the pain bleeding into his voice now. “I fucking rotted in Azkaban for six years, thinking I had nothing left. And all this time, you had her? I—I had a kid? ”

Aurora shifted again in your arms, and Mattheo’s heart wrenched as he saw her big, curious eyes peek out from beneath your hair. She didn’t know him. She had no idea who he was, and that realization broke something inside him.

“How could you?” His voice cracked, his eyes burning as he stared at you, searching for some explanation that would make any of this hurt less.

You closed your eyes, breathing deeply as if steadying yourself before meeting his gaze again. “I didn’t know what to do, Mattheo,” you said softly, the edge of panic still there but buried beneath layers of hurt. “You were in Azkaban. I didn’t think you’d ever get out.”

“That’s bullshit!” he snarled, his hands trembling as he ran them through his hair. “You could’ve written. You could’ve found a way! You could’ve let me fucking know I had a daughter!”

Tears welled in your eyes, your lips trembling as you looked away, the guilt eating at you. “I… I was scared,” you whispered, barely audible over the sound of his labored breathing. “I was scared she’d grow up without you. That she’d grow up knowing what you were forced to be… and I didn’t want that for her.”

Mattheo’s chest heaved with the weight of your words, but it only stoked the fire of his rage. “That’s not your decision to make, you had no right to keep her from me!”

You blinked, tears spilling down your cheeks as you clutched Aurora tighter. “I didn’t do it on purpose. You weren’t here. You literally couldn’t be here. I was trying to protect her—”

“From me?!” he shouted, the words scraping from his throat like broken glass.

Aurora’s tiny whimper cut through the air like a knife, and Mattheo’s heart shattered. He hadn’t meant to scare her, hadn’t meant to let his anger bleed into his voice, but it was too late now.

You stepped back, rocking Aurora gently in your arms, trying to soothe her as you looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Mattheo.”

“Then what the fuck were you trying to do?” he spat, his voice low now, hoarse with emotion. “Because it sure as hell feels like you didn’t give a shit about what I’d feel. I missed everything. Everything, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched, and the weight of his words settled over you like a blanket of regret. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” you whispered. “I didn’t know if I could. And by the time I thought about it, too much time had passed. I thought… I thought maybe it was better this way.”

Mattheo let out a bitter, hollow laugh, his eyes wild as he stared at you. “Better? Better?! How the fuck is this better? I lost all six years of her goddamn existence! Six years! I didn’t get to see her first steps, didn’t hear her first words, didn’t even know she existed. And you think that was better?”

You sobbed, clutching Aurora close to you as if the little girl could shield you from the onslaught of his anger. “I’m sorry,” you cried, your voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, Mattheo.”

But sorry wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to undo the years of pain, the years of loneliness and anguish he had endured in that cell, thinking he had lost you, lost everything.

He took a deep, shaky breath, forcing himself to look at the little girl—Aurora. His daughter. She was watching him now, her big eyes wide and confused, her small fingers gripping your shirt. She looked so much like him.

“Aurora,” he said, his voice a broken whisper.

She blinked at him, tilting her head slightly as if she didn’t understand why he was looking at her that way. Of course she didn’t. She didn’t know him. He was a stranger to her. And that hurt more than anything else.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Mattheo whispered, his voice barely audible now. “You kept her from me.” He shook his head, tears of his own threatening to spill over. “You took everything from me.”

You wiped at your eyes, shaking your head. "I didn’t want her to grow up around this—around what we were part of. I didn't want her to know the darkness.”

“But that darkness is a part of me, Y/N,” Mattheo snapped, his voice breaking. “It's who I am. I can’t escape it, no matter how much you want to pretend it’s not there. And you—you kept my baby from me because of it?”

You let out a shaky breath, the weight of your decision hanging between you. “I made a mistake, Mattheo. I thought I was doing what was best for her.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and for the first time since you’d left the café, Mattheo’s anger began to ebb, replaced by something even more painful—regret.

Mattheo stood frozen, his chest heaving with the weight of all that had just transpired. His gaze shifted between you and Aurora, trying to piece together the shards of the life he thought he’d lost. His anger still simmered beneath the surface, but as he watched you, tears streaming down your face, and saw Aurora clinging to you with wide, confused eyes, something inside him softened.

But the more he looked at you, standing there with Aurora in your arms, the more the anger started to unravel into something deeper, something rawer.

Because it wasn't just about Aurora. It was about you. You, the woman he'd loved so fiercely before everything fell apart. The woman he had held onto in the darkest hours of Azkaban, when hope was the only thing that kept him from losing his mind.

He had missed you— fuck, he'd missed you— and now you were here, standing in front of him with his daughter. And as furious as he was, as shattered as he felt, that love hadn't gone anywhere.

He hadn't seen you in six years, but you still made his heart race in ways he couldn't control.

“Y/N,” he whispered, the anger in his voice beginning to crack, replaced by a deep, aching sadness. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

"I used to run my fingers through her hair every night," you whispered suddenly, your voice cracking as you glanced down at Aurora's curls. "Because she has your curls. And it made me feel closer to you."

Those words hit Mattheo like a punch to the gut, his chest tightening as the reality of it all began to sink in. You hadn't forgotten him. In all those years, despite everything, you had tried to keep a part of him with you-through Aurora.

He swallowed thickly, his throat constricting. "Why didn't you write me?" he asked, the question soft now, almost a plea. "I could've—hell, I don't know what I could've done, but I would've known. I would've been there in some way. Anything but this."

You sighed, wiping another tear from your cheek. "I didn't think you'd ever get out. I thought..." You took a deep breath, struggling with your words. "I thought it'd be easier if she didn't know. If you didn't know. And I was wrong. I see that now."

He falls silent for a while, his eyes trained on the beautiful girl in your arms.

“She’s really ours?” Mattheo asked, his voice softer now, though the tremor of rage still lurked. “That’s her name? Aurora?”

You nodded, wiping at your cheeks as you pressed a kiss to Aurora’s head. “Yes,” you whispered. “That’s her name.”

Mattheo let out a shaky breath, his heart clenching at the sound of it. Aurora. His daughter. Aurora’s wide eyes met his, so innocent, so big and full of wonder, but also a little shy, hiding in the safety of your arms. She didn’t know him. How could she?

His heart broke even more.

“Well, you do look like quite the princess,” he murmured, his voice soft and careful as if speaking any louder would scare her away.

Aurora’s brow furrowed, still unsure, but Mattheo could see the curiosity shining in her eyes. She stayed pressed against you, her small fingers clutching your shirt.

“Mama,” she whispered, looking up at you, her voice trembling. “Why are you crying?”

Your breath caught as you tried to answer, but words seemed to fail you. Instead, you simply stroked Aurora’s hair, trying to steady yourself. Mattheo watched, helpless, as Aurora’s small hand reached up to touch your cheek.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m just—just a little sad, baby.”

Mattheo could feel the weight of everything pressing down on you both. He had a million questions, a million things he wanted to yell, but none of it would make sense right now. Not with Aurora watching, her innocent eyes darting between the two of you, trying to make sense of something so much bigger than her little world had ever allowed.

“Who is that, Mama?”

"Remember when you asked me where your Daddy was and why he wasn't here?" you whispered to Aurora, your voice shaking as you cradled her close. "Remember how I told you your Daddy loved you, and that he'd find us one day?"

Aurora’s gaze flicked back to Mattheo, her little forehead creasing in confusion.

“That’s him, sweet girl,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “That’s your Daddy.”

Mattheo’s breath caught in his throat as those words hit him like a tidal wave. That’s your Daddy. For all these years, that’s all he should have been—her father, her protector, her everything—and instead, he was a stranger. He blinked back the sting in his eyes, trying to keep himself together for her sake.

Aurora’s little fingers clung tighter to your shirt as she processed what you’d said. She looked back at Mattheo, her eyes wide and uncertain.

Mattheo’s heart ached with the silence, with the lost years that could never be undone. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, but he knew he couldn’t—at least, not yet. She didn’t know him, and that hurt more than anything else.

You looked down at Aurora, gently prying her small hands from your shirt before setting her down on the ground. “It’s okay,” you whispered softly. “You can say hello.”

Aurora hesitated, her little body leaning toward you, and then slowly, cautiously, she moved to hide behind your legs. Mattheo’s heart squeezed painfully at the sight of her shy little face peeking out at him. His own daughter was scared of him.

He crouched down to her level, making himself as small as he could, hoping it would make him seem less intimidating. He had no idea how to be a father, no idea what to say to this little girl, but he had to try.

“Hey there, Aurora,” he murmured softly, trying to keep his voice gentle, steady. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She didn’t respond, just kept her wide eyes on him as she clung to the back of your leg. Mattheo’s heart shattered further, but he swallowed hard, forcing a shaky smile.

But Aurora, as shy as she was, was still a child. And as she looked at him again, her small voice broke the silence. "Are you really my daddy?"

Mattheo's throat tightened, the words lodged there, unable to come out. He was scared—terrified, really— of what to say, of how she would react. But he nodded, his voice breaking as he whispered, "Yeah. That's me."

Aurora stared at him, her eyes big and full of questions, her small hands clutching onto your shirt as if grounding herself. But after a long, silent moment, she seemed to relax, her lips parting into the tiniest smile.

"I always wanted one," she said softly, her voice full of innocence. "All my friends at school have daddies. I wanted one too."

His chest ached. He was the stranger here, and yet, in her little mind, he was still the man she had been waiting for. The man you had told her would one day come for her. He could see it— the confusion, the shyness— but there was something else in her eyes too.

She'd been missing him. She just didn't know who he was.

Mattheo's chest ached, the guilt and sorrow clawing at him from the inside. "I wanted to be there," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I wanted to be with you, with both of you. I didn't know."

Aurora looked at him for a moment longer, and then, to Mattheo's shock, she smiled a little wider, still shy but no longer fearful. She reached out tentatively, her small hand gripping his for the first time. The warmth of her touch sent a wave of emotion crashing through him, and for the first time since seeing you again, something inside him shifted. Maybe this wasn't all lost. Maybe he hadn't missed everything.

Aurora giggled softly, her small hand still wrapped around his. She brought her other hand to his face, pressing her palm to his cheek. "You're my daddy," she said again, as if testing out the words.

Mattheo's throat tightened, tears stinging his eyes as he smiled-truly smiled-for the first time in what felt like years. "Yeah, princess," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm your daddy."

Aurora's little laugh was music to his ears, and when she finally released his hand, she took a step back, hiding behind your legs again but peeking out from around you with a shy grin.

“You know, when I look at you…” He trailed off, his throat tightening as he swallowed down the lump that had formed there. “I see so much of your mum in you. But I see me too.” He let out a soft, shaky laugh, blinking through the tears that threatened to spill. “You got my curls, huh?”

Aurora’s wide, curious eyes flicked between the two of you, her tiny fingers gripping the fabric of your pants. Mattheo felt a surge of protectiveness, an instinct that told him to reach out, to hold her, to assure her that everything would be okay. But he hesitated, unsure if he even had the right to touch her after all this time. She had been a stranger to him just moments ago, and now… now she was his entire world.

Her small voice broke the silence again, tentative but filled with the kind of honesty only a child could muster. “Do you love my mama?”

Mattheo’s heart lurched at the question. His gaze snapped to you, meeting your teary eyes. The question hung in the air, heavy with expectation. You quickly glanced away, biting your lip as you tried to keep your composure.

Aurora blinked up at him, waiting for an answer. “All my friends’ parents love each other,” she continued, her voice soft, innocent. “They kiss and hold hands. Do you love her?”

Mattheo’s throat tightened, and he felt his pulse quicken. How could he even begin to explain the depth of what he felt? The years apart hadn’t dulled it—if anything, the ache had only grown sharper. You had been his world before Azkaban, and every lonely, torturous day behind bars had been filled with memories of you, of your laugh, your smile, the way you used to look at him as if he was the only person that mattered.

He had loved you then. He loved you still.

But now, standing before you, the mother of his child, the weight of everything left unsaid between you was crushing.

He swallowed hard, his gaze shifting back to Aurora. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I do.” Mattheo’s eyes softened as he glanced at you again, his heart aching with everything he wanted to say. “I’ve always loved her,” he admitted, his voice low but firm. “I’ve never stopped.”

You looked at him, your lips trembling as another tear slid down your cheek. You were trying so hard to be strong, but the years of separation had taken their toll on both of you. And now, with Aurora standing between you, the bond that had once been so unbreakable felt fragile, like it could snap at any moment.

Aurora, still holding onto your pants, tilted her head, watching the two of you with that same curiosity. “Mama,” she said softly, “why are you crying again?”

You let out a shaky breath, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “I’m okay, baby,” you whispered, brushing a hand through her hair in a soothing gesture. “It’s just… a lot.”

Mattheo stood up slowly, running a hand through his curls, trying to compose himself. He felt a swell of love for you, something he had been suppressing in his anger. You had raised this beautiful little girl all on your own, carrying the burden of their absence in silence. You had done it for Aurora—for him. And even though he was furious that you had kept it all from him, a part of him understood. You were protecting her, protecting yourself.

He took a deep breath, his voice soft but unsteady as he spoke again. “I missed everything,” he whispered, more to himself than to you. “Her birth, her first words, her first steps... all of it. I wasn’t there.”

You flinched, guilt flashing across your face. “Mattheo, I—”

“No,” he cut you off gently, shaking his head. “I’m not trying to blame you. I just… I missed it all. And I don’t know how to make that right.”

Aurora, sensing the tension, leaned into you, her arms wrapping around your leg. “Mama, is Daddy staying with us?”

Mattheo’s heart clenched at the word. Daddy. He had never thought he would hear it—never thought it was even possible. But now, hearing Aurora say it so casually, so innocently, it hit him all over again. This was his daughter. His family.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, crouching down again to her level, his voice gentle as he tried to meet her eyes. “I’m going to be here. I’m going to make it right, okay?”

Aurora blinked, processing his words, and then her lips curved into a small, shy smile. She still seemed a bit confused, but there was a trust forming, something fragile but real.

She looked up at you, her tiny voice full of hope. “Does Daddy love me too?”

You sucked in a breath, your eyes flicking to Mattheo, waiting for him to answer. His throat tightened, but he didn’t hesitate this time.

“More than anything,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he held her gaze. “I love you, Aurora. I loved you before I even knew you were here.”

[freyito]

ɢɪʀʟᴅᴀᴅ ʙᴏᴏᴛʜɪʟʟ

✩ inspo: RECENT BOOTHILL LEAKS

★ summary: booty as a girldad...

✧ a/n: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS TO BOOTHILL'S STORY!!!!! THESE ARE BASED OFF OF BOOTHILL LEAKS!!!!!!!!!!! HEAVY HEAVY SPOILERS!!!!! HEAVY SPOILERS!!!!

also i dont normally write stuff like this but oh my fucking god HE HAD A DAUGHTER. here's the fluff i promised after blue veins i guess. dont get too comfortable with it ;)

✦ like my work? feel free to send a request !

🗒 cw: gn reader, written before boothill release/2.2, BOOTHILL LEAKS, he's a good father. sorta, not proofread

✎ wc: 932

Boothill’s censorship comes in handy with the new addition to the family. Granted, he’s really good with watching himself around kids, regardless. He’s really good with kids, he becomes a softer person around them, even softer than he is with you. He’ll let them hang off his arms and draw things on his body, pick them up, and do that thing where he’ll throw them up in the air, spin them around, anything he can to play with the kids.

He starts to come back from missions faster, and spends more time with you and your daughter. He goes from ‘Trouble waits for no one!’ to ‘Trouble can wait a couple more days…’. He makes any little excuse to see her, and by Aeons, if you need a break, he’s more than happy to step in.

He is a total fashionista, too. He loooooooves dressing his daughter up in cute little dresses and overalls, braiding her hair and tying it up in bows. He’ll also let her play with his hair, no matter how frazzled he comes out. He’s content being her model, allowing her to put makeup on him as well. Sure, he’ll look silly, the brightest light blue eyeshadow caked on his eyelids, baby pink cheeks and deep red lipstick, but he feels pretty.

Of course, Boothill still can’t stay around as much as he’d like, he doesn’t want to risk the IPC finding him. He doesn’t want to risk the IPC finding her, specifically. He is too afraid of reliving the same scene, he often dreams of it, and there are times where he cannot tell the difference between his little girl and what was.

That means he’s protective. Even a little scrape and he’s worried, but he tries his best not to suffocate her. He’s worried, yes, but he gives himself space, for his sake and hers. He knows nothing good can come from an overbearing parent.

When she first started to walk he damn near cried, it was the first time you’ve seen him so soft and sappy. Yes, it was an ugly cry. He told everyone he knew that she WALKED! She walked to him! And he almost cries every time.

He’s also managed to keep the guitar he had made for his daughter, and he gifts it to your guys’ daughter. Not because he hopes that she will grow up to be what was, but because he believes it’s a nice memento. Somewhere out there, she’s watching you two build a family together, and she’s watching your little girl dance and play and giggle and even strum that guitar. And she’s happy.

Speaking of, he loves teaching his daughter guitar. Having her sit in his lap while he just strums, or showing her where to put her tiny fingers for certain notes. She’s not quite able to get it, but she laughs all the same, and that couldn’t make him happier.

Keeps every little drawing she makes up on the fridge. You’re starting to run out of space for magnets. Even if he’s not there, he wants her to know she’s an ARTIST. In every sense of the word. From preschool finger painting to elementary school drawings and so forth. Also keeps some folded up drawings in his wallet. His favorite is a stereotypical children’s drawing of you, him, and the house. Except he’s riding a pretty damn cool metal horse, (she named it ‘verminantor’, because she said it was cool. not ‘terminator’, no. ‘verminator’. make sure you get it right. Yes, Boothill named one of his bikes that) shooting his guns towards the sky. A pretty accurate depiction, you have to say.

He’s also really competitive for her. If she’s in any sports, he’s the dad screaming at the top of his lungs to ‘GO GET EM!!!!’ or ‘WIIIIIN!!!!!!’. He’ll get into verbal scuffles with other parents when they ask him to be quieter, because his baby deserves the best, and if the best is the loudest, then that’s what he’ll be.

Boothill is also an amazing storyteller, he can prattle on and on about whichever star system he’s been in for hours, it’s really handy when sending your daughter to sleep. Other kids really like his stories as well, he does his best to keep away from the violent parts (about 70% of his stories), and focus on how beautiful the planet was, or something like that. Most of the time he’ll pepper in stuff about a prince or a dragon or knights (which turned out to be true) to keep it entertaining, but pg for the kids.

He also spoils his daughter ROTTEN. He’ll come back from his little ‘sidequest’ with a bunch of gifts for both of you. He’s got all sorts of stuffed animals for his daughter, shirts, rocks, literally anything he could find that reminded him of her. Anything he could find that he knew she’d like.

He raises a rough n rowdy kid, essentially. The kind of father to let her roll around in the mud ‘cause she’s just havin’ fun’, who brings bugs home just for fun and names them all sorts of cowboy-esc names, (her favorite being Buck Bucksley– ‘it sounds like pa’s favorite word!’ she says, and you shoot him an angry glare. He looks away and shrugs it off, with a ‘I didn’t do nothin’.’) who’s favorite activity is looking for worms in the dirt, a kid who gets up quickly and dusts herself off when she scrapes her knees. And Boothill’s damn proud of her, absolutely gleaming with joy at any little accomplishment.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[cupofatokirina]

Genesis

Chapter 4: Echoes of the Past

The warm sun filtered through the dense forest,casting shadows on the soft earth. (y/n) moved carefully through the trees, her hands gently brushing against the bright fruits hanging low from the branches. The air smelled sweet, and the soft rustling of the wind made the scene feel tranquil. Beside her, Callen worked quietly, filling a woven basket with freshly picked fruits. His familiar presence was comforting, grounding her in this peaceful moment.

“Dad?” she asked, breaking the comfortable silence. She paused for a moment, her glowing eyes searching his face. “Why don’t you ever talk about my mother? What was she like?”

Callen’s movements slowed, his grip tightening on the fruit he held. He didn’t answer right away. His eyes softened as they met hers, but there was a sadness there she didn’t fully understand.

“She’s… not here anymore” Callen said quietly, his voice thick with an emotion she couldn’t place.

(y/n) furrowed her brow. “Then where is she?”

He sighed, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. “One day, when you’re older, you’ll understand. But for now, just know that you are where you’re meant to be. With me.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, unsatisfied with the answer. Yet she nodded, trusting Callen as she always had. The two continued working, their movements synchronized, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. Even in this peaceful moment, there was something unshakable in her gut—a sense that something had been left unsaid, something important.

But before she could press him again, the world around her started to fade, the familiar warmth dissolving into cold…

(y/n) jerked awake, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The warmth of the dream was replaced by a stark, sterile cold. The walls around her were smooth and white, too clean, too bright. The soft hum of fluorescent lights overhead buzzed in her ears as she struggled to focus, trying to make sense of her surroundings.

She was in a cell.

The realization hit her like a shockwave. The once-familiar glow of bioluminescence was gone, replaced by the artificial glare of an old RDA holding cell. The smooth white walls boxed her in, sterile and unfeeling, with a large mirror on the wall opposite her.

She sat up slowly, her heart racing. “Where am I?” she whispered to herself, her mind spinning. A wave of panic washed over her, and she reached instinctively for her emergency bag, but her fingers met only cold metal. Her bag, her knife—everything was gone.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath, the sudden feeling of vulnerability creeping up on her.

The silence in the room was suffocating, but beyond the thick door, she could faintly make out voices. Muffled but intense.

(y/n)’s gaze drifted toward the large mirror across from her. It covered almost the entire wall. She stared at her reflection with frustration and fear bubbling inside her.

On the other side of the glass, Jake, Neytiri, Neteyam, and Norm stood in a cramped observation room, their faces tight with concern.

Behind the glass, Jake Sully stood with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed as he watched the young woman on the other side of the mirror. His eyes flicked to Neytiri, who paced back and forth, her expression hard and distrustful.

“We can’t just assume she’s harmless,” Neytiri said sharply. “We don’t know where she’s come from or who she’s working for. This could be another trick.”

Jake let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know that. But Neteyam brought her here. That complicates things.”

“I couldn’t leave her there, Dad,” Neteyam said firmly, stepping forward. His face was a mixture of resolve and guilt. “There was something… different about her. I felt it—like Eywa was guiding me.”

Neytiri shot her son a warning look. “You cannot let emotion cloud your judgment, Neteyam. The humans have fooled us before, made us believe they could be trusted.”

“I know,” Neteyam replied, his voice steady. “But this was different.”

Jake sighed, his gaze shifting back to (y/n)’s figure through the glass. “We’ve been burned before, son. You know that. Bringing her here puts all of us at risk. “

“She was alone,” Neteyam repeated, his tone insistent. “If she was with the RDA, they would’ve come for her”

As the tension between the family rose, Norm entered the room, holding a small device in his hand. “Jake,” he called softly, drawing everyone’s attention. “I found this in her bag.” He held up a data chip, his expression serious. “It’s encrypted, but I was able to pull a video file off of it and some files from it. You need to see it.”

Jake frowned, his instincts telling him to be cautious. “What’s on it?”

Norm inserted the chip into a nearby console, and the screen on the wall flickered to life. For a moment, static filled the display, and then an image emerged—a man, older and weathered, with a serious expression.

“Hello my name is Dr. Callen,” the man said, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “If you’re seeing this, it means (y/n) has found you. She has no connection to the RDA. She’s not an avatar, and she’s not a real Na’vi either.”

Jake, Neytiri, and Neteyam exchanged glances, their suspicions deepening as Callen continued.

“She was created… in a lab by the RDA. I was part of the team that made her.”

Neteyam’s eyes widened as he heard the words, glancing at his father, who looked equally unsettled.

Callen’s face softened, his expression shifting to something more personal, more heartfelt. “She doesn’t know the truth about herself yet. She doesn’t know what she is. But she’s not dangerous. She’s not the enemy. Please, whoever is seeing this, protect her. Teach her. She needs your guidance. She needs a chance to learn… to be part of something more.”

There was a pause, the weight of the message sinking in as Callen’s voice grew softer, almost pleading. “And tell her… tell her I love her. I always have, and I always will. Please. Keep her safe.”

The video ended, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Norm’s gaze was fixed on the screen, while Neytiri stood with her arms still crossed, though the hard edge in her expression had softened ever so slightly.

The video cut out, leaving a heavy silence in the room.

“I found some files detailing supply outpost and coordinates to some RDA military bases.”Norm said, breaking the silence as he turned from the screen to face Jake.

Jake exchanged a tense glance with Neytiri before turning to Neteyam. “This changes things,” he said quietly. “But we still need to be careful.”

Neytiri’s expression remained stony, her distrust still simmering beneath the surface. “Even if she wasn’t made to harm us, she still could be a threat. She’s unknown, Ma'Jake.”

Jake nodded slowly, his mind working through the possibilities. “We’ll keep her under watch, but we need to find out more about this Dr. Callen”

Neteyam’s gaze lingered on the mirror, his eyes filled with uncertainty.

Authors note: Hey everyone thank you for supporting this work Appreciate it. Let me know if you want me to continue adding flashbacks about Callen throughout the story. Promise i will add more content with Neteyam its a slow process. Overall thank you all, stay tuned.

[lady-charinette]

Convince me to watch Buddy Daddies, if you please?

*sips tea*

I will make a powerpoint presentation if this very biased, very comprehensive list still doesnt convince you.

Reasons to watch Buddy Daddies:

the songs are catchy (listen to SHOCK by Ayase, you'll be dancing in your living room or crawling on the walls)

its a hitmen trying to parent action rom(?)-com with very relatable fresh parent moments, yakuza domestic violence scenes and a short if on the nose critique on Japan's bogus complicated paperwork process while Kazuki and Rei try to enroll Miri into daycare and forging getting all the neccessary documents and forms together

features a motherly, overzealous best friend with past trauma-coded hitman Kazuki, who's more the 'brains' aka strategist of a hitmen duo together with deadpan, possessed-by-a-cat-spiritiually hikikomori who knows his way better around a gun or 100 than he does in a grocery store Rei.

the best assassin ever doesn't know how to cook for shit, his signature dish is french toast

the mothers of the other kids Miri plays with at daycare oggle Rei and Kazuki (understandable since they're two hot single dads ahem)

there's a mom group chat where the chat explodes with messages like "OIL BARON?! I KNEW THEY SMELLED OF OLD MONEY!", "they r hot :D" & rumors about the family situation in general

the jokes/compliments the mom's give to Rei "he's very cool! he has that hitman aura!"

Miri's biological dad gets killed during a deadly altercation with Kazuki and Rei in a shootout, her only other biological relative is her mom, who abandoned Miri in order to pursue a singing career with an abusive boyfriend but is trying to get around & wants Miri back

Kazuki is a deadly housewife

central themes: family relations, blood doesn't mean shit, the horrendous struggles of raising a kid with 0 knowledge of how to raise kids, sacrifice, implied stigma of two men raising a child alone + stigma against single mothers, generational trauma & overcoming trauma as adults, sometimes the only light at the end of the tunnel is your completely platonic co-worker who offers to cut your hair, a warm bath and gets your life together so you don't die alone

Rei has an undercut

Miri is the cutest ball of energy and sass that only a small child possesses

some boy has a crush on Miri but gets the Death StareTM by her two overprotective Papas

the tough, cutthroat life of a kindergartener

the overlapping themes of how important family is & how biological family can have the types of people in your life you absolutely want and have to cut off in order to be healthy, adjusted adult

love being the driving force to overcome obstacles, grief being the love with nowhere to go and the suffocating emptiness being replaced by a mismatched found family of two assassins and an orphan toddler who cook together and win races together

the food looks good

how grief and generational/familial trauma can cripple people in different ways and how traumatized people can heal together and become each-other's strength

alcohol is not the answer kids (oh and killing too)

the concept of motherhood: Ep 3. feat. Kazuki's sexist comment about mothers that are incapable of hating their own children. Misaki (Miri's mom) resents her daughter for destroying her dreams, Kazuki says that raising a kid is supposed to come naturally to a mother. He changes his tune later when he sees how difficult it is raising Miri & how Misaki genuinely tried until she was disappointed and traumatized by her own life & the arrival of an unwanted child.

the concept of fatherhood as introduced by Miri: "A papa is someone who will save you from trouble!". Whereas the fathers through the rest of the cast can be either described as "tormenters", "absent" or "sir"s.

good character building for almost all the characters

Bad Guy Ogino gets killed in a very poetic way, *mwah*

speaking of: creepy assassin Ogino keeps a notebook of people he's killed & what their last words were. Basically the teenage girl journaling experience but for deranged assassins

all in all you'll fall in love with the characters and laugh and cry until you dehydrate yourself

Send me another ask if you end up watching it & tell me what you think! :D

[spells-and-liquid-luck]

A part 2 to the snape daughter selling potions; free basically (planning with George) say they'll tell her dad about her secret business if she doesn't go to the yule ball with Fred. she grudgingly agrees, (she's friendly with him, a very younger teasing sibling vibe) and her dad basically freaks out in the calm snape way. she just replies with 'you wouldn't get it, it's young people stuff' and leaves her dad wondering if he was like that

Potions & Promises - Fred x Snape's Daughter

Can I get a dreamless sleep potion? I've been having really strange dreams that the gnomes that I had de-gnomed from his garden last week had been chasing me with tiny little pitchforks." Ron explained his dream with sheepishly. Those dreams were so strange that he almost didn't want to help Hagrid in slight fear that the gnomes would actually make an army and decide to attack him.

She couldn't help but to give him a questioning look as her brain pictured his dream. "Um, surr. Here you go Weasly." She handed him the potion vile as he handed her the money and he quickly jogged away, but as everyone knew where there was a Weasly, there were always more close by.

"Hey, Ms. Snape." He teased as she rolled her eyes. "Do you need something or are you going to stand next to me all day?" She jokingly asked which made George lightly chuckled as his lips curled into a mischievous smile.

"I have a proposition for you." He wrapped his long arm around her shoulders. Her eyes squinted in an annoyed glare.

"I already told you. We will not be in business together. I really don't need you making potions that will accidentally blow someone up." Her eyebrows slightly raised in concern as she thought of the very real possibility or this happening.

"It's not about that. It's something else, and I'm sure you would love it." His excited demenor scared her a little because the twins were known to have very outlandish ideas. "Uh yeah sure." She said with pure sarcasm which failed to catch George's attention as he was way too happy about his idea even if it sounded absolutely ridiculous.

"How would you like to be the lucky girl who goes with Fred to the Yule Ball?" She laughed which took George by surprise. "Do you really think I'm planning on going to the ball? I'm busy and besides I don't want to be around so many people it'll be suffocating." She huffed.

"Aw c'mon. It'll be good for you, and Fred hasn't asked anyone yet. You don't have to kiss him or anything. Just go, even if it's just a friendly favor." She thought about it do a moment. It's not like she didn't like Fred, infact she had been harboring feelings for him since her 3rd year. "Ballrooms aren't really my scene." She said with hesitancy. "That's fine, then I'll just tell your dad that you're breaking school rules and having a side potions business." George stated in a matter-of-fact tone. Her eyes held nothing but panic. "You wouldn't." She warned. "How do you know that I wouldn't?" His teasing tone was enough to sway her, even if she called it a bluff. She really didn't know if he would really say anything to her father, but she did know how hard it was for him to keep a secret.

She lifter her hands up in surrender. "Fine. Fine. I'll go, but I'm doing this as a favor." "Uh-huh." George teased not believing her. He may joke a lot, but he was observant. A pink blush dusted her cheeks, but George managed to not see.

George smiled as he held out his hand for her to shake. "I did say this was a proposition, so you have to make if official." She laughed at his business-like gesture and shook his hand.

George quickly ran up to the dorms as quickly as possible to tell Fred the news. "Looks like you're not going to the Yule Ball completely alone Freddie." George looked up from his book. "What do you mean Georgie? Has someone asked me? He looked up at his twin with a puzzled yet amused expression as he began to sit upright I'm his seat.

"I may have noticed you taking a liking to none other than professor Snape's daughter, so I may have pulled some strings with her and she has agreed to go with you. She said as a favor, but I can tell she like you too." His tone was teasing and his face held a cool expression as he casually stated that Fred's longtime crush has agreed to go to the ball with him.

"Well, if she agreed, then that's excellent, but I feel like I should talk to her myself don't you think? Fred stated in a hurry as he quickly put his jacket on. "Fred, wait. Here. I got these before I came here to tell you." He handed some really pretty purple flowers. "She loves purple." Fred said with a smile. He took the flowers and quickly exited the room and walked down the halls of the stone walled castle with a suffer sense of confidence as he went looking for her. His quest to find her came to an end as he saw her in the courtyard talking to some students. It looked like she was about to leave for class, so he picked up his pace to go meet with her. "Hey Fred. She greeted him smiling. "Hello." He replied back. "Have you heard that I'm your date to the ball?" She smirked as she teased him and watched his face go from elated to slightly panicked as his face began to match the color of his hair.

"I have heard, but I thought that I should ask you formally myself. It's the principle of the y'know. Can't have a lady thinking that I'm lacking in manners. He tried to sound like his usual confident self, but the feeling of his heart was about to beat out of his chest as he felt the anxiety fill his veins.

She looked up at him and nodded. "Alright then, go ahead." She smiled in amusement. He nodded and jokingly cleared his throat. "Will you please do me the great honor of being my date to the Yule Ball? He quickly put his hand out carrying the lilac flowers. Her eyes lit up when she saw the flowers as Fred handed them to her. "Yes, I will go to the Yule Ball with you." She replied. "In all seriousness, I promise it won't be as bad as you think. I know you weren't planning to go, but I'll try to make it as painless as possible."

"You promise?"

"I promise." He put his hand on his heart for emphasis.

"Pinky swear?" Fred looked at her in confusion. "Pinky swear? What is that?"

She held her Pinky out and grabbed his hand. His heart rate picked up again as he tried to hide his forever crush on his friend.

"You're supposed to wrap your pinky around mine to make it official. It's a muggle thing. I thought Harry or Hermione would have taught you this by now." She said with laugh.

"I also promise that ai will tey to have fun and will he the prettiest that I have ever looked considering you see me in my Hogwarts uniform 80% of the time. He smiled kindly at her as he examined her hand as they let go of their pinkies and kissed the back of her hand. As he let go, he said the words that changed how she felt about him almost instantly. "Darling, if you looked any prettier you would be mistaken for an angel.' She felt that this was the moment. The moment that she'll remember for a lifetime. The moment that she fell in love with a Weasly, but of course it wasn't in her nature to say such a thing out loud. Instead, a sly grin made its way across her face. "I didn't know you had such feelings for me." She teased. "How long have you felt this way? Maybe since my first year here huh? Did you see a white light cascading around me when I entered the great hall for the first time letting you know that you fell hopelessly in love with me." She clasped her hands together near her heart to add to the dramatics. "Please don't make me regret asking you to the ball." He groaned as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Oh, c'mon Fred! You know you're just dying to kiss me." She teased again again a smile. Her smile soon faded as she was meeting the eyes of a familiar gaze. "What was that?" The voice of her father rang out in an irritated tone.

"Nothing, dad. You know..it's just stupid teenage stuff. You wouldn't understand." She did as she waved him off and she briskly began walking away.

"Weasly." He called out. "Yes, Professor. Fred answered, almost stuttering on each syllable. "I'm watching you." Is all he said and walked away. Snape stopped at a nearby corridor as he stood with a small grin thinking back to when he began to have those feelings about a girl.

Tag list: @flamey-0

[boygina-philosopher]

I Love Me Despite Myself (Sometimes I Fight Myself)

Feat. Connor (RK800), Hank Anderson, Sumo

Meta: one-shot, no ship, Detroit: Become Human 2018

Tags: Emotional Repression, emotional hurt/comfort, takes place shortly after the game ends, They're Unemployed 💀, Connor lives with Hank, fluff, Connor is having feelings about that time he mind-melded with the android that offed himself, Nightmares, dad hank, Connor is a sasshole, first week together, fear of death, connor's operating system is jank asf, autistic connor, robot PTSD,

Connor struggles with newfound complexities that come with free emotions, and the nauseating truth that you cannot, in fact, emotionally detach and repress your trauma away.

Hank stared on like his eyelids were whittled away, fixated on the wavering blue light, flicking about as Connor seemingly dreamed up whatever his tech-mind could think of.

The day would always come to an end like this, a "midnight snack" veiling -poorly that is- Hank's need to keep an eye on him. Sumo wouldn't even leave the living room unless Connor did, following him the way Connor followed Hank. Everything was so...ongoing now. Connor was sleeping on his couch every night, in the day they'd work with their private investigator training program, and it'd repeat. But time's arrow marched onward, striking Hank and dragging him along in space. It was never like before, no, not since his son... Hank's thoughts stood still, prodding at that tender notion, that his son was gone.

things kept changing, moving along, Holding on as long as he could was never an option he wanted, but it persists like a bad habit. That's all it ever was.

Connor shifted, Which in his sleep mode, was not theoretically possible. Hank nearly jumped out of his skin. he hated theoretics. he hated how much they were ingrained in his job. his old job, anyways.

a faint glow broke throw the tension in the scene before Hank, scarlet in hue. A brow above him furrowed and bent, and once more it flicked off and on like a bug. How much of this was just an arbitrary feature to sleep mode that only made sense to his developers; How much was attributed to his stress levels?

"Connor?" Hank whispered, his own voice seemed like a shout to him.

Only red was an indicator that his call had made it through. Connor's LED flashed yellow before returning to red. He's gonna get fried if I don't wake 'im up or somethin'...

Hank pressed a cold hand to the sleeping man's head, feeling it whir under the back of his hand, self-automated cooling in effect. What was he even doing? Androids don't-

In a flash of deep-cut garnet a hand clashed and darted to Connor's nose, busting some component with a sick metallic crunch, as quick paced flailings of a man ravaged by fear shot throughout the night!

"what the shit-?" Hank whisper-shouted in confusion, he was not hurt, no, but the man that jolted upright was huffing and hitching his breath quickly beneath him, jittering like a prey animal caught in a bind.

Connor was enveloped immediately in an embrace he hadn't felt since he'd last been deactivated- since he'd died. It was almost suffocating, tightening capillaries of comfort injecting themselves snugly into his circuits. His Hands shot up a second time, to hold this closely, to hold it near so that it may not slip through his fingers, trembling trying to cool down his biocomponents.

Any water that seeped into the body through the hair "follicles," retracted skin, or other methods were repurposed through the tears that now clung to the older man's ratty shirt. Thirium flowed from his nose, now bent ever-so slightly inwards. bloody noses were so distant from him, with their coagulating blood and the way the flow highlighted how primal these fleshy things were. It was not him, He was not himself, He never was Himself, He couldn't even think for himself-

"'s'alright son, You're right here, with- I'm here."

his breathing of sorts, his exhale and inhale ebbed and flowed until it stopped altogether. Hank shuddered.

"I felt it- I, when he died, I went with it."

"that android on the roof again?" Hank was not exasperated, not disappointed in this revelation, rather, he was... almost grateful.

"It's everything now- the roof, the-the zen garden, the fuckin'-" Connor was overheating again, pulling Hank from him. A few low apologies and they were in a position that seemed to work for them both.

"I don't dream like you do Hank. Like people do. I no longer have the zen retreat when I'm in a state of stasis." Connor wiped his tears with a twitching fingers. "I had to manually replace the empty space-"

Connor stopped himself and looked up at Hank expectantly.

"ha, you rhymed." As if fate willed it herself.

Connor sniffed, but in a way that exhibited his disinterest in his apparent poem-writing abilities.

"sorry man, jus' tryin to lighted the mood." Hank scruffled the android's hair.

"I related the previous week's events to myself straight from my memory storage. When I was almost done, something kept Moving.

I felt the way the other android died, I felt the zen garden being deleted... It hurt."

Something ached like a dull throb and sharp jolt of a rotting tooth in his mind. Connor closed any door that had been opened in that moment, covered the windows and buried himself in the warmth of the other man. The blue blood on Hank's shoulder grew cold in the God, Connor's nose was still bleeding!

"hey buddy, keep your head back and let's get cleaned up."

Connor's eyes darted downward to his facial mess, averting his eyes quickly and coldly, like a mother would teach someone.

"what would be the point? Thirium disappears after a while."

Hank clapped a hand onto the other man's shoulder and attempted to say anything. He settled to just sigh and use some shirt on the couch to wipe Connor's face clean.

"I want to get my thoughts across in order and concise."

"so can you?"

Connor leaned forward, elbows on his knees, turning his head as he gestured with his hands a simple "no."

Hank pulled some hand gestures of his own, lifting his hands in mock defeat and rubbing his own legs.

"wanna watch some fucked up horror movie?"

"fucked up horror movies about the dehumanization of flesh make me feel closer to mankind, because I can connect to the disgust and fear from becoming aware of the body's holy flaws."

"yeah man- yeah, holy flaws. Wanna watch The Thing?"

Connor's face did not stretch and round under his skin, but sat unmoving all too aware of his statue-stillness. Did Galatea ever feel this way? Could she? Could she comprehend how perverse every breath puffed out of her was? Was she grateful that she couldn't feel her nature reject itself?

Connor didn't smile, but nodded. Perhaps it was delusion, but satisfaction radiated from the other man. Connor was smiling, he could feel it on him.

[wktlltkw]

David from afraid of monsters and my hcs.

I barely found the strength to write about David. I tried to translate this text, so I hope that the English here sounds good. I'm sorry for the mistakes.

‼️TW: "happy" house (I'm not sure, if I should write there tw or not)

___

—David, you know that he won’t come? — this woman is again trying to convince me of something... I knew that this was not so. I'm not little anymore. I'm already thirteen.

—Call him, please. Mom, — I didn’t stop trying. I repeated the same thing over and over again, as if she didn’t understand anything, — call him. Mom, I'm begging you. Call him.

—He doesn’t need you, David, don’t you understand? — no, I don’t understand this. I don’t want to understand this, and even if this is so, let him say it himself. Let him say something, damn it, and not remain silent.

—Mom. Call him. Give me your phone and I'll call myself. Mom, — I don’t know if it was weakness, but asking again and again, I feel as if she is suffocating me. It was as if she had picked up the phone and wrapped this thin wire around my neck, just so that I would shut up and stop pestering her. But we both know that I won’t leave behind. Even if you strangle me, I will do the same and ask again. You know that, mom? The lump in my throat makes me raise my voice in emotion.

—Okay, — okay?

Mom, standing with her arms crossed, walked to the shelf where our home phone stood with a dissatisfied face. She dialed the numbers, pressing the receiver to her ear. Even from a distance I could hear beeps. Even from here I could hear her calm breathing. The silence was becoming too loud, and I was just trying to hold back so as not to make a scene again.

—Hello? — her voice sounded calm, but with irritation. I know you're tired of me. But I'll be leaving soon. And you will be left alone, mom. And your house will rot without me. Like all your bile. I'll leave soon.. — Have you forgotten that you have a son? You could have called at least once, — I didn’t like it when they quarreled. I immediately approached, extending my hand. I wanted to talk to him before he hung up, before he got angry about her. — I’ll give him the phone now, — it seems as if I can’t even breathe. The phone was in my hands. I heard someone else's breathing on the other end of the line.

—Hello? Dad? — my hands were shaking.. I tried to fix my gaze on the thin wire that I wanted to wrap around my throat myself, but I only wound it around my finger. Scary.

—Hello, what did you want? — dad. I dreamed of hearing his voice for so long, but now I don’t feel such joy. This is not enough.. This is terribly little.

—When do you come? I'm on vacation from school now, you promised that you would take me away for the winter.. Do you remember?

—David, how old are you? — I don’t believe in this caress. I don't believe he will say anything that will make me happy.

—I don’t understand, what kind of question is this? Dad?

—You are already a grown-up boy. Take care of your mom, you are such a friendly family, right? I won’t come, I.. — I didn’t let him finish and hung up.

—I told you, — my mother’s voice was very close.

—Go to hell, — I said nothing more. I returned to my room.

That evening I did not spare my hands. I didn't care that I could cause serious injury or just be left with scars. I wanted to break all my knuckles, I wanted to break my fingers, otherwise not my mother, not the wire, but I would strangle myself. I'm not a part of this family anymore.

[ageofpiracyrp]

Theo Seong

Pronouns: He/him

Role: Entertainer (musician)

Age: 28

Romantic and/or Sexual Preference: Gay

Species: Erkuss

Home Planet: Kraysha

Faceclaim/Humanoid Appearance: Hwang Inyeop

True Appearance: His eyes are red. 

Backstory: As a child, Theo had big dreams that would hopefully take him far away from home, where his entire life was already decided for him–take over the family business. Theo wanted more than that though. He wanted to bring the used guitar he spent years saving money for around Kraysha and perform the songs he wrote in the safety of his bedroom. He wanted to experience something new and be known as someone other than the local diner owner’s son, but that wasn’t the life his dad wanted for him.

The Sunrise Diner was almost like his father’s actual first born son. He poured nearly all of his savings into the old, run-down restaurant with an apartment above it and redid the entire space himself, trying his best to create the perfect life for his family. He had the idea to tap into Kraysha’s fascination with Earth media and recreated a traditional 50’s American-style diner, down to the checkerboard floor, red booths, and the jukebox in the corner. To Theo’s father, they were living in his proudest working. However, to Theo, it was suffocating and only reminded him that if he didn’t take his life into his own hands then he was destined to become the owner of The Sunrise Diner. “This will all be yours one day, Theo,” his father used to tell him, as if another option didn’t exist.

When Theo finally finished his certifications, he had his sights set on Different City where he would try to get into the music scene. When Theo broke the news, it was the first time he and his father really fought, but it was enough to break their relationship. Theo kept all that resentment and desire for something different buried for so long that it exploded out of him the moment his dad told him he couldn’t go to Different City. His dad always assumed he would follow the path he laid out for his son. He assumed Theo was happy at home. Theo was too afraid of disappointing him to correct him–until he saw his one chance to leave being taken away from him. He didn’t need his father’s approval, he had money set aside for the move, so he packed his bags, his guitar, and hopped on a bus to Different City.

At first, it felt like Theo was living his dream. Different City gave him the opportunity to meet people from not only all over the Maeyr, but all over Kraysha. His new found freedom allowed him to experience music in a way never could at home. He could go to open mic nights, concerts, and audition for bands. It was everything he could ever hope for, but he had lost his father in the process.

That idyllic picture of his future crumbled when reality kicked in, and he realized that just because could play guitar and sing didn’t mean he was going to be anything other than a broke wannabe musician. Record companies didn’t even listen to his demos before tossing them aside, and the closest he ever got to fame was open mic nights at dingy bars or busking on the streets. Still, Theo stubbornly stayed put, refusing to return to Rungung with his tail between his legs. He would rather be a failure in Different City than stuck in The Sunrise Diner.

When Theo received the news that his father died of a heart attack, he suddenly realized how much time he wasted being stubborn. They never repaired their relationship, and Theo would never get the chance to. His dad was just gone, and he was his only family left. The only thing he left behind was his precious diner. Maybe it was grief or maybe it was a reality check, but Theo finally left behind his life in Different City to return to the home he used to resent so much. It felt like he had to honor his father somehow, and the only way he could imagine making up for those lost years was to take over his diner.

His father’s ghost was all over his diner, every piece of him ingrained in the wood and décor, and Theo felt like he had to preserve it exactly as it was. Since the day Theo’s father opened the restaurant, the menu and the interior never changed, and they had almost the same employees, so it wasn’t hard for Theo to do what his dad always planned for him–step into his shoes and take over the business. It wasn’t at all what he wanted, he missed music, but he was so overcome with the guilt over never rekindling their relationship that he felt like he had to stay. He sucked it up and dealt with it for about two years, until one day Henry Astrea, his ex-boyfriend’s father, gave him Robin’s phone number to reconnect. He learned all about Robin’s life on the Prosperity, traveling the galaxy to smuggle goods. It wasn’t a life Theo ever considered for himself, but when he found out there was a need for a musician, he felt that urge to run away all over again.

Theo never fully made peace with the loss of his dad, and he didn’t want to disappoint him by giving up on the diner again, but his dad was gone. He was never coming back, and Theo couldn’t sacrifice his happiness for closure that he was never going to get. He sold The Sunrise Diner to one of his dad’s most faithful employees, Bonnie Derringer, and applied for the position on the Prosperity, ready to give music a second chance.

Skills: Theo has the typical erkuss abilities, like shared memories and electro-magnetisim. He’s also a talented singer, song-writer, and guitarist. He’s a good cook after learning from his dad, and obviously his specialty is American breakfast food. If Al ever needs help with pancakes, Theo is his man.

Played by Sarah; 30 ; she/her; mountain time

[almond-t0fu]

It's like 3:19 am and i can't sleep because of the dream I just had...

At first the dream was normal, way too normal. I was just doing what I do daily and mom and day we're talking with eachother. Dad said that he has to find something in the bedroom so he told me to go outside and closed the room's door and I did. I was happily walking around the living room (living room is connected with the kitchen and there's a small balcony in the kitchen) i didn't notice anything weird untill I went near the balcony (not too near) and i saw two hands holding the railing and trying to reach inside the balcony. It was a fucking man trying to get inside our home. I tried to run back to open the bedroom door but I was so scared that i couldn't, at last I did run but right before opening the door and he almost touched me but i managed to open the door and my mom just held me in her arms as dad did something. My brother came out of his room and he started to comfort me along with my mom.

Now the scene changed a little. There was this guy who just appeared out of nowhere and said that he will protect is from them and I was like "protect us from who??" he pointed towards the balcony that was in the bedroom. (The curtain was opened) and we could see a short person standing behind the curtains. The guy went near him and the short person just jumped from the balcony. My mom opened the bathroom and we could see someone standing behind the small window (well it's not possible in my actual house). The guy told us there a lot of people watching us and he will protect us from them. Why? I have no idea. I don't know the rest cuz I was so scared I had to physically wake myself up. This is not the first time I'm having this type of dreams. These days I'm constantly getting dreams that are very suffocating.

[yandere--stuck]

Grim - Yandere!Grimdark!John x Reader

[Warnings: Suggestive, graphic body horror, mentions of blood and gore]

---

John had watched you die. Not long after he had died himself. 

He had seen the dead body of his father, lying on the floor beside Rose's mother. The scent of wine mixed with the stench of blood and death, making the Heir wrinkle his nose in disgust.

He didn't know why he didn't cry. He didn't cry at a lot of things. He didn't know why. Maybe he never learned how.

Or, maybe, it was the comfort of your presence at his side. The feel of your arm brushing against his, the sound of your voice hitching in shock. Even if he no longer had his father…. At least, he had you.

Maybe Dave had been right, the game had been bad news. They probably shouldn't have played it. Really, it had only brought ruin into their lives - into the lives of all it touched. 

But it's not like they were the only harbingers of the apocalypse. And if you all hadn't played it… He could have lost you. It's not like he wanted to die, or that he didn't care about his dad or his friends, but you were the most important thing in the world to him.

Really, the main reason he had wanted to play was to finally see you, one on one. Rose was his best friend, but he felt disappointed that you weren't his server player, and jealousy at Jade being your client player. But, finally, to close the loop, he was your server player.

His excitement in seeing you, taking in everything about you, made him lose himself, and he ended up smashing his face against the screen of his laptop. The exhilaration and euphoria of seeing you and serving you almost overpowered the terror at the prospect of you dying, of you not making it to your planet in time.

But, you did eventually make it. The relief made John's heart burst with joy, hugging his laptop to his chest, trying to imagine the warmth of the machine was your own body heat. He made goo-goo eyes at you through the screen, resisting the urge to kiss the pixels that made up your form.

He had to continue making progress, but he was terrified of you getting hurt - so, he alchemized his glasses to include a screen that displayed your status in the game. This way, he could check up on you and carry you with him, outside of pesterchum, at least.

Vriska kept pestering him, eventually convincing him to fall asleep on his quest bed, saying something about "god tiers", apparently it was something even higher than the usual tiers on one's echeladder. 

The next thing he remembered was awaking on some sort of chess board-esque battlefield with some little chess guys on it. Luckily, he was able to borrow his dad's car in the meantime (good thing his dad had gotten on his ass about *finally* getting his driver's license… Though, did he really need one if he was controlling it with his new windy powers?) And he had even managed to reunite with dear, sweet, precious Liv Tyler! Though… She was a lot more robot-y than before.

The thought of sharing her with you made him absolutely giddy! And the idea of you being a co-parent to Casey… God, it made him smile so hard his face hurt!

And! He had even gotten a cool hammer! You'd certainly be impressed by his strength and his cool moves. John would prove himself to be a great, protective boyfriend for sure!

A looming darkness caught his attention, and he felt himself pulled toward it. It seemed to come from a large castle shrouded in darkness. It didn't seem to be natural, like from a thunderstorm. It didn't seem to be from a fire either, the darkness neither smoky nor smelt of burning. 

His eyes widened as he focused on something in the midst of the darkness - and he let out a gasp when he realized it was you!

He kicked into gear, rushing to meet you. You were dressed in your dream planet pajamas - and you looked so cute in them! As you turned, hearing him approach, he had to fight the urge to not fling himself at you, pulling you into a tight embrace as he spun you around in his arms.

He shook himself out of his daydream as you spoke to him, explaining that you had seen the darkness, as well, and wanted to investigate. It seemed to be coming from within the castle. Of course, John offered to accompany you inside. If anything went south, he'd be there for back-up!

He had to hide his grin and blush as the two of you ventured in, you sliding up beside him for reassurance. 

Walking through the cavernous halls of the castle, you were horrified to find the bodies of so many innocent people strewn about, blood and viscera covering the walls and floors. The bodies, as alien as they may have been, were clearly. This was a massacre.

But, beside you, John felt… Nothing. It was sad, sure, but… You were still alive. And that was all that mattered, really!

You jumped when you stumbled upon a living person, John moving in front of you protectively. You held your breath as the figure turned, revealing… 

Rose?

Though, she looked much different than what little you had seen of her. Her skin had turned a ghoulish gray, her eyes as black as night, and her eyes seemed to glow, illuminating her face. And a darkness seemed to surround her. It emanated off of her, stretching above her like tendrils.

Could… Could Rose have done this?

John seemed completely unfazed, greeting Rose with a wave, saying something about her "finally going grimdark."

Rose let out a noise that sounds something like a giggle, her lips quirking upwards. She tried to speak, but the words that came out… They weren't even words, you think. It sounded fuzzy, but also incredibly, painfully loud. It didn't sound like any noise a human could make, like TV static blaring in your ears, or switching through radio stations with no signals. It was suffocating and loud and- everywhere. It felt as though Rose's voice was everywhere, all around you, inside of you.

You were sure you let out a scream, but you only heard Rose's voice - even as you screwed your eyes shut and clamped your hands over your head, all you could hear was the noise…! It felt as though your ears were starting to bleed.

John's hands clamped down on your shoulders, bringing you back to the moment. You breathed heavily, chest rising and falling heavily as you tried to ground yourself.

Rose's eyes were full of guilt and concern, a pained expression on her face as she turned away.

As you tried to ground yourself and recover, you barely noticed John caressing your shoulder with a thumb. Nor did you see the deadly glare he sent to the back of Rose's head.

It's not like he didn't love Rose, but he loved you far, far more. If she ever hurt you again… He couldn't be held responsible for what he'd do.

The both of you followed Rose through the castle, the girl not able to bare turning around to face either of you. Still shaken up, you kept your head down, not wanting to look at the bodies or gore. John held you close to him, stroking your arms up and down to comfort you.

He had to fight not to smile, the feeling of your skin on his was electric.

Eventually, Rose guided the both of you out to a balcony of sorts - and you stopped dead, gasping in horror.

John's father and Rose's mother… Both dead on the ground. Murdered.

You couldn't help it, you turned to face John. The man's face was one of shock, his breathing shallow as he processed the scene in front of him.

His dad… He couldn't believe it. He had just seen him. He was right there… He felt his heart break.

Oh, and what was worse… You had to see something this awful! Oh, you poor thing! He had to get you away from here…!

But, everything happened so fast. All at once, a figure appeared - a man with the face of a dog and the body of one of the many, murdered chess people, armed with a sword. Instinctively, you stumbled back - and John turned, reaching out for you, terrified of losing you.

Before he could even call out for you, his words got choked up in his throat, replaced with nothing but blood. Pain exploded from his abdomen and his back, ocean eyes widening as they focused on the sword going straight through him. 

The figure pulled the sword free, the Heir grunting in pain as his organs were ripped apart, blood gushing from his open wounds. As John fell to his knees, trying desperately to hold himself up, he spat out blood onto the white, marble floor. Slowly, he sank to the floor, eyes growing dim as, in his last moments, he tried to find you.

---

Coming back to life, John found, was a lot like waking up - the slow awareness of consciousness, the disorientation. A sudden burst of energy hit the man as he felt himself be rejuvenated, colors exploding across his vision. He blinked as he regained his sight, the world fading in from white. He swiveled his head, trying to find you.

In the distance, he could see Rose and the dog-man battling over the battlefield, blasting off magical attacks at one another. His heart pounded in his chest. 

If she was there, then where were you?

Looking down, he surveyed the balcony. The body of his father, Rose's mother, and-

Oh. Oh, God. God, no, please!

The Heir felt tears strain at his eyes, his mouth pulled into a pained, horrifying grimace. He fell hard to his knees, kneeling above your body.

"No, no, please!" He choked out a sob. "Please, please, wake up!"

John clutched at your body, fisting the fabric of your pajamas in his hands as he shook you, desperately trying to get you to regain consciousness. He could feel his eyes and cheeks begin to sting with tears. His breathing was shallow and fast, having to use his powers to try to even it out.

He sobbed, all words incomprehensible by now. He let out sobbing screams as he clutched your body close to him, already feeling the warmth leaving you. He pressed, desperate, messy kisses to your lips and face - but, it was no use. Your real body and dreamself had both died.

He doesn't think he had ever cried before now. Only you made him feel so strongly. He loved you. He only loved you. He needed you. He couldn't lose you.

He couldn't.

Without you, life was meaningless. You were his only reason for playing this game. His only reason for doing anything - for living, for breathing. You were perfect. You were everything.

But, without you, there was no point. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair!

Grief and rage filled him to the brim. He grit his teeth and he screwed his eyes shut, eyebrows knitting together.

The air tasted of electricity, and without his knowing, the dark clouds that swirled from above dripped down and encircled him like an inky blaze.

And John let out a scream.

Or, at least, he had tried to. His cry had been cut off by inky, black tendrils forcing their way inside of his open mouth. The tentacles came from everywhere, from the gloomy clouds from above the darkness that surrounded the man.

The eldritch beings that had given the Lalonde her current state had felt power within John's rage and sorrow, as well. The outburst had drawn their attentions - feeding off the darkness within him. They would remake him in their image, as well…

John gagged as the tendrils snaked their way down his mouth and down his throat, his neck bulging from the amount of vines forcing their way down his throat. John could barely breathe, writhing in desperation to get air into his lungs. He tried to use his powers, trying to suck in air through his nose in an attempt to somehow get oxygen through the vines' air-tight hold in his throat - only to let out a strangled, muffled scream as tendrils slipped up into his nose, reaching up into his brain. 

If he could have, John would have gurgled or spit up around the tendrils, but he didn't even have the ability to do even that. The Heir's limbs spasmed as he tried to reach up to yank the tendrils out, only for more to snap the man's arms against his torso. Even more came to wrap around John's legs, restraining his legs and tying them together. 

More tears bubbled up from his eyes as he felt the tentacles curled around his legs, thighs, stomach and chest - almost caressing him, as if gently teasing him. The tender touches only served to contrast the agony of the tentacles spreading further into his body, ripping through his throat and into his stomach and intestines. 

The pain was so unbearable that if he could have, he would have puked, but the tentacles blocking his throat and mouth would have never allowed him to do so.

John swore he could feel himself bleeding internally, but in truth it was the feel of the darkness spreading all throughout his body, taking hold of him, corrupting him. He could the darkness clog his arteries, wrap around his bones, fill him up to the very brim with itself - somehow, despite the unknowable agony he was in, John had managed to stay aware, but only barely.

Until, the tentacles that had filled up his nose plunged deep into his brain. The man's body jerked wildly, twitching and spasming as the darkness overtook and corrupted his mind. Dark grey overtook and crawled up his skin. His dark hair slowly turned from his natural hair to a stark white. His eyes, forced to say open, lost their irises and pupils as they were lost in an impossibly bright, growing white.

As the tendrils finally burrowed completely into John's body, deep inside him - a horrible scream erupted from his body, making the ground below him shake and crumble, inky darkness flowing like smoke from his open, shrieking maw, now filled with fangs.

---

You awoke with a start, taking deep gasping breaths. God, your head hurt, and your back wasn't exactly feeling any better. Felt like you slept on stone… Rubbing your head, you looked down, confirming that you had, in fact, slept on stone. It had a distinct symbol on it, and looking at the front of your new outfit, it seemed to share the exact color and symbol.

You stilled suddenly, blinking, realization washing over you. An ominous presence seemed to loom over you, making a shiver crawl up your spine. You turned, and jumped in place.

It was… John. Or, what looked like John. He grinned, looking upon with an eyeless stare. It reminded you of how Rose looked before. Had… Had whatever happened to her, happened to him, too?"

"John… What's going on?" You asked, eyes flitting around in confusion. Somehow, John had taken you all the way to your planet after you…

You…

You died, hadn't you?

"John…?" You settled your focus back on him, letting out a gasp as he pulled into an embrace.

A rumble seemed to emit from within his chest… Was… Was he purring?

You settled into his hold, trying to hide your nervousness. "What happened back there? What happened to you?"

John's expression flickered to one of nervousness, before opening his mouth to speak.

You let out a yell of pain, the sound all too familiar to you. It suffocated you, overpowering even your own yelling, incomprehensible, ear-bleeding static that seemed to drill straight into your eardrums, into your mind, and your very being.

You had only realized John had stopped attempting to speak when he clasped his hands over yours, easing them from your head and holding them in his own. Whimpers bubbled up from his throat as he leaned forward, nuzzling you.

You laughed nervously, detangling your hands from John's to pet at his now-white hair. "It- it's okay, John. We… We just need to find out how to get you back to normal, okay? And then, we can get back to Rose and the others and-"

You were cut off, letting out a soft grunt as John pushed you back down onto your quest bed. A powerful purr rumbled from within him, leaning down to kiss and lick at your neck.

You were stock still for a moment, before letting out a shocked laugh, not knowing how to react. Your hands wormed your way to his shoulders. You chuckled, trying to push him off of you. "John, I- now's really not the time-"

In one swift movement, the grimdark Heir was able to pin your wrists by your head, letting out a playful growl as he straddled you.

"John…" You could whimper, voice dying out.

John only responded by diving in, kissing and licking hungrily at your neck and shoulders, occasionally pressing hungry kisses to your face and lips, swallowing your whimpers and moans.

John's purrs seemed to surround you on all sides as he dug his teeth into your neck, claiming you as his own.

[orangeseoks]

Trouble Maker // j.jk

part threeーpart two; here

[ disclaimer! ]

this is of pure fiction and is NOT to be taken seriously!

genre ;; fluff, smut, angst | hybrid au

pairing ;; jungkook x reader, hybrid!jk x reader, (kinda) namjoon x reader.

notes ;; jungkook is a horny mf, reader is a virgin *cOuGh*, mentions of abuse, a few fights happen here and there, namjoon is a complete dork, (y/n) and namjoon are besties uwu, eventual smut, jk randomly finds porn, masterbation, (y/n) fights with her family + daddy issues, highschool is hard, jk has a virgin kink, surprise heats, jk has wet dreams (ovo; ).

warning ;; there may be quite a bit of fob in here, idk

[ unedited ]

[ all rights reserved @orangeseoks ]

Sighing, I heave myself up my long driveway, the backpack on my back seeming much heavier than it was a mere twenty minutes ago. “Just a little further,” I tell myself, droplets of sweat pricking my brows, it is quiet warm tonight and I am wearing a thick sweater. That clearly isn’t helping.

I groan loudly once I reach the top of the driveway and poorly jog to the backyard, unlocking the unitーdumping my backpack carelessly in the doorway and sliding the door closed behind me, locking it again. “Kookie!” I call out, un-tying my shoes and kicking them off before dragging my bag to the kitchen, deciding to put away the small amount of groceries I’d purchased.

“Jungkook?” I repeat, concern lacing my words, normally he’d be trying to climb up my leg by now. Gulping, I place the few cans of fruit salad and beans in their respective spots, quickly running into my room in search of my precious little bunny. 

“Come on, this isn’tー” 

I’m instantly cut off by a small grunt and movement underneath my duvet, I roll my eyes and pull back the covers, a beaming pair of dark doe eyes staring back at meーasking for forgiveness. I chuckle and raise my brows at the guilty bunny curling in on himself, “now.. what were you just doing mister?” I ask with a hum, picking Jungkook up and fixing my bed up.

“You can’t just do that, what if you suffocate? Heck, I don’t even know how you got up there,” I mutter, switching the tv on and taking a seat on the sofa, the remote clutched tightly in my free hand. I watch the tv with interest, keeping a tight yet gentle hold on Jungkook in my lap, chuckling at the current scene.

“Did you see that?” I ask the bunny in my palms, lowering my head to look him, his piercing little gaze causing me to pout and huff out a breath at his rudeness. “Just because you can’t talk back doesn’t mean you can look at me like that,” I complain.

As if he’d understood my words, Jungkook grunts and kicks my wrist, nipping at my skin afterwards, I yelpーtossing him onto the cushion next to me, scanning my hand to see if Jungkook had torn any skin. I sigh when I spot the little scratch running from the back of my hand to my forefinger, “you’re so mean Jungkook-ah.” I whine, standing to get a plaster from the bathroom.

Upon my return to the living room, I see Jungkook curled in on himself, his ears covering his eyesーa tiny pout on his cute little lips. I sigh and look down at the guilty little bunny, sitting myself beside him and picking him up, “stop pouting.” I chuckle, watching as he climbs onto my chest, snuggling into it. A small, barely noticeable smile falls onto my lips as I gaze fondly at the bunny in my arms, what am I going to do with you? I think to myself, petting the fluff ball gently.

knock knock

I blink and place Jungkook down before getting up and walking to the front door, sliding it open to reveal my dad. Sighing, I raise my brow at him, “what?” I ask, noticing how his eyes glaze over the area around me, “your sister drank all the milk, you have some?” 

“I- well, yeah, but not much, I haven’t really bought any this week, I might go shopping with Namjoon this weekend..” I respond, allowing him to push me out of the way and casually stroll into my house and into my kitchen, taking out a bottle of my milk. I scoff and clench my jaw, “how much do you need?”

“Not much, just a cup.”

“Okay, hurry up, I have shit to do.”

He only grunts and take the glass of milk he’d poured, leaving without saying a word, I merely sigh and lock the door behind him, harshly closing the curtain before stomping to the kitchen and throwing the milk into the fridge. 

“Angry old man,” I grumble, scuffing back to the sofa and turning my console on. It isn’t much, just and old Playstation since I couldn’t afford a more up to date one. Humming, I plug in the controller and memory card before switching to the AV channel and selecting a game.

Soulcalibur or Kingdom Hearts?

Tapping my chin in thought, I stare at the two games I have deep interest in and settle with Soulcalibur, a little slash and bash before bed never hurt anyone.

With a triumphant yell, I hit the air with my fist and grin, “kiss my ass Inferno!” I shout happily, a feeling of relief washing over me knowing I finally finished Nightmare’s story. I yawn, checking the time on the small clock I had set up, “bed time.” I tell myself, allowing the game to save as I climb to my feet to turn everything off.

“Jungkook,” tucking the controller away, I duck down to pick up the extra one I’d taken out for my little bunny to see the little fluff ball cuddled up next to it. I smile and gentle pick the two up, gently cradling a bunny in one hand while the other is busy putting a controller away.

Once I’ve managed to successfully finish the task at hand, I stroll into my room and tuck Jungkook into the little bed I made him from a old couch cushion and a doll blanket. “You better not crawl into bed with me,” I playfully warn him, turning away to change into my nightshirt before climbing into to bed and scrolling through my social media feed until I doze off.

[aajjks]

Passion;

synopsis. you were yoongi’s everything, his biggest blessing and he’d do anything to keep you.

pairing: yan!soft husband!yoongi x fem!reader.

warning: GORE. YANDERE, DARK, MURDER, DESCRIPTIVE GORE, BLOOD, KNIFE, CRYING, INSECURE READER, STOCKHOLM SYNDROME.

REPOSTED PLS SHOW LOVE AND SUPPORT!

VIEWER DISCRETION IS HEAVILY ADVISED.

note. HAPPY YOONGI DAY!!!! WOOHOOO ITS YOONGI DAY AKA THE MOST BLESSED DAY IN THE WHOLE YEAR. Okay so fun fact, TODAY IS MY DADS BIRTHDAY TOO JAJAIAUH SO DOUBLE BLESSED DAY! I just wanted to write something for our birthday boy! if it’s not so good then I’m sorry! ENJOY! I wrote this in 15 minutes eeek.

masterlist.

your husband was a very hard working man, he was simply made of passion. He was the most passionate person you knew. and you admired him for that.

He did everything so passionately. his way of loving and cherishing you was dreamy. like how you’d always dream of marrying someone who’d treat you like a queen, loving you so unconditionally that it all felt like a dream.

it really did. sometimes like a dream and sometimes... like a nightmare.

Your relationship with your husband was bow at a bumpy road. only because of your insecurities. but every couple in the world went through the same issues that you were going through these days. right..?

sighing loudly you stirred the cake mixture one last time, trying to distract yourself.

not today Y/N...not today.

yoongi was a blessing in your life. while, you were a curse to him. you got everything but what did yoongi get? a good for nothing pathetic wife?

actually... that woman was right.

putting the cake batter in the oven, you came back to the living room, your mind was still on things... were you not enough?

maybe. leaning your head back against the couch, tears were starting to build up in your tired eyes. “G-God. I’m really the worst.” barely managing to choke that out, a broken sob left you.

those words were getting to you. that woman was right... you didn’t deserve min yoongi. You didn’t deserved to be called his wife. she was right. He just pitted you.

She was right. He wasn’t in love with you.

the waves of sharp pain in your head wasn’t allowing you to think clearly. being too emotionally fragile, you let things easily get to you.

You were pathetic. really, yoongi was so unlucky to have you, who’s wife cries on the day of their husbands birthday?

and you were too distracted to notice that your husband was finally home.

home to you.

oh, just how much was he raging.

yoongi was absolutely boiling with anger. The room was dark, Blood painted the walls in messy strokes, the feathered splatter of arterial spray.

It dripped down the walls, pooling darkly into the carpet. As he approached the scene, the floor made a damp squelch noise, like water being pressed from a damp sponge, and viscous crimson liquid welled up warmly between his toes, staining the skin. the blood curling screams of the dying woman ringed around the suffocating four walls.

“You stupid little bitch. you really tried me this time.” yoongi laughed like a psycho as he stabbed the bloodied knife again into the woman’s guts. “shut the fuck up!” growling at the pathetic sounds, yoongi twisted the knife deeper into the females stomach.

“god fucking damnit. how are you even able to scream, I literally just cut off your tongue..?” tsking, yoongi grumbled. he needed to hurry.

It was almost time.

“I can’t fucking believe this. Today is my birthday and my beautiful wife is waiting at home for me and I’m here waiting for you to finally go to hell.”

drops of sweat were running down on yoongi’s face. little stains of blood also evident on his pale skin. “How fucking dare you say all of that bullshit to my Y/N!?” screaming at the now deceased woman, yoongi stood up. Gazing at the blood oozing out of the pale corpse’s body. he smirked.

he had his revenge.

“well, she had it coming. it’s going to be such a memorable birthday. now I better get home to my queen.” he shrugged as he threw his knife away.

and walked away, to come home to you. his passion.

[iridescentlemoncandy]

Trajectory - Raising Hell [Osborn]

Part 2: 10 Years Ago, Midsummer

"He would eventually abandon me, too."

TW: Sexual Abuse, Death, Gun, Blood, Knife, Violence

It had been four years since I first moved in with Ye Chuan.

When a mother and son moved into the neighbourhood not too long ago, the rumours around me began to circulate again. They said I was an orphan and a monster that no one wanted. My parents supposedly gave up on me because I am so incredibly bad-behaved, as they put it.

I've always ignored the disdainful glances people have cast my way. They couldn’t hurt me. I realised that the ones at fault were not myself but rather the others. But I couldn't help but think about the rumourmongers right before bed. It made me think about the people they mentioned in those rumours. Over time, I began to feel angry at myself for even considering it.

Did I not just say that we would have nothing further to do with one other? How come I kept having dreams about them? Were those years of happiness with them the reason? If complete strangers heard my story, I figured they'd be furious and condemn them as unfit to be parents. Their departure was, in any case, greatly anticipated. It would be fitting if there were reports of their unfortunate demise one day. In no way could I afford to miss them.

For this reason, I would always feel an immense amount of self-loathing whenever I woke up from a dream involving them. I despised my own contradictory nature. Morally, I should despise them, so I couldn't tell anyone else. The more I isolated myself, the less I wanted to talk to anyone. I was on the lookout for a safe haven where I could either completely conceal myself or feel safe enough to reveal any and all details of my life. Sooner or later, I'll get out of here and find that place of freedom.

Hence, even after Ye Chuan repeatedly asked that I call him "dad," I proceeded always just to call him by his name.

I knew, deep down that he would abandon me soon after. I wasn't under any pressure to try extra hard to win his approval out of fear of being abandoned. But I know that he might not love me if I didn't act this way. Over and over, I assured him that if he ever had second thoughts, he could always get rid of me. Because I didn't want to come home to an empty house after school.

These four years, I had been counting down the days until that day finally came—until I was in junior high.

In regard to my education, I'd never let Ye Chuan have any say. He was quite conscientious, acting as a responsible parent figure. Even if I got myself into some serious problems, he wouldn't be there to bail me out. There had never been a feeling of freedom like it. And the more they told me to stop being such a wild monster, the more satisfied I became. It was as if I was no longer held hostage by this world.

When I sat on the school fence and took in the sky at twilight, I was able to let go of the remembrance of aimless wandering and the irrational desire for mutually assured destruction. I managed to get through it.

A piano tone suddenly came into my ears. It sounded rushed and discordant. Listening to it for too long will make you feel like you're being suffocated.

I had to get in there and see what was going on. It was the school’s music room. There was a tiny gap between the door and the frame, so I peered inside. Despite the passage of time, I could still vividly recall the scene. I could see an opened piano lid. The principal was sitting on the stool. There was a female student in school uniform in his arms.

The student's cries were muffled as the notes he played built to a crescendo. Suddenly, I recalled the boys’ discussion from this morning's class: "The Piano Room Game." Whenever they mentioned it, they would cover their mouths and laugh in a sleazy manner. Finally, I was starting to get it: this is what they meant by the piano room game.

All of a sudden, my throat felt constricted. With a feeling of nausea rising in my stomach, I hurried to the nearest sideway and almost threw up from disgust. I hadn't given Old Man Chen much thought lately, but I immediately recalled the night he became a corpse, where there was festering frostbite on his face. According to the two persons, Old Man Chen passed away before they were there. His body succumbed to the cold.

I dragged him to the hospital door by pulling on his empty sleeve as if I were pulling on two ropes. The distance, thankfully, wasn't too far. I couldn't help but turn around and take one more glance as I left. I noticed the two trailing footprints on the ground, leading to Old Man Chen's shoulder from his head as if he hadn't lost his arms. As I continued to look at it, I imagined them rising and clasping the principal's throat in a death grip. It was so constricting that it turned crimson and eventually collapsed.

When I told a teacher, he gave me a reassuring look and said that the whole thing was merely a mentorship. I stood there for a long time before realising that something was seriously wrong with this establishment. It was rotten to the core.

And they can rot all they want; I will never submit to such idiocy.

Later that evening, I made a choice. I emptied the chamber of Ye Chuan's homemade wooden rifle. It looked remarkably similar to the appearance of a real gun.

I scaled the fence surrounding the campus. With the gun in my hand, I picked up the pace. The sound of the waves striking the window made me feel increasingly rebellious. I will use my own flesh and blood to sever this tendon in its entirety, reversing the balance of power, exposing their corruption, and leading them to their demise.

“Don’t move!” I pointed the gun in his direction and gestured to the table, telling him to write down his offences.

To my surprise, he didn't put up much of a fight and just did what I asked, clearly convinced that my gun was real. The shock made him appear helpless, leading me to believe he was. Maybe he was simply having a moment of confusion and would come to his senses soon. As I reluctantly put the rifle down, blood spurted from the back of my hand. Behind the knife is a satisfied look, indicating that it was a deliberate act.

There was a cost to my compassion. When I was forced to the floor, I considered the situation amusing. Even though the other party's intention was clearly to kill me, I still thought about the possibility of forgiving them.

I was trampled so hard it hurt, but it awakened me more. Only one thing came to me when I thought about regrets. No, I refused to destroy myself. I will take up my spear once more and vanquish them.

Part: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]

[stellocchia]

Headcanons for the Chats:

Everyone does, in fact, have a Chat that follows them, but it’s never as cool as they would like you to believe

Techno for example has one single pig that follows him at a distance and writes messages in the snow. They’re quite treatening honestly but Techno can’t read what they’re writing half the time because he always forgets his glasses

Tommy is a Big Man and of course he has the coolest Chat ever! What was that? You wanna know what it is? Well it’s most definitely NOT random music that plays around in the air, no sir! He can connect with it a lot better when he has a jukebox and music discs playing, but there are never really any words spoken, it’s just weirdly fitting music

Tubbo has his ominous text as Chat. He can see it only sometimes, but it’s always there, enderwalk Ranboo can see it all the time and so could Ghostbur. Michael can see it often as well and he knows that his dad’s Chat likes him a whole lot. Tubbo’s Chat can be helpful at times, but a lot of it is honestly uncomprehensible screams in the void, not like Tubbo will see it anyway, right? And when he does he honestly doesn’t mind

Puffy’s Chat appears as written words in her diary, meaning that she cannot see it unless she has the diary at hand and open. Her Chat is not too happy of being ignored 23 hours a day, but sucks to suck I guess...

Wilbur’s chat sends him messages through smoke. Be it from a fire or a cigarette they can come through. Less fortunate they can communicate only through smoke signals, not by morphing the smoke into words and Wilbur most definitely doesn’t have the patience to decipher what they’re saying most of the time. Everyone else can see his Chat as well, but only Tommy can interpret it and he’s always surprised by how fond they are of him, it’s nice

Ranboo gets his ender particles as Chat, but that’s what they are, light particles. Some of them have figured out how to communicate through morse code by shining more or less, but with how many there are it’s honestly very rare for Ranboo to catch anything amidst the confusion...

Phil’s Chat is one single crow that comes by sometimes to drop a letter on him and then caw at him for a bit. The letter often contains very concerning stuff, like that time he received a very detailed letter on Wilbur’s opinion on eating sand. Wilbur didn’t write that letter it just appeared. Phil suspects that his Chat can read minds or something like that and wonders why the heck it always uses it to unsettle him. The crow will often appear without a letter as well and just caw at him for a few hours before disappearing once more

Quackity’s Chat is actually interesting because he sees them as numbers through his blind eye. They can be probabilities or little numeric messages and they actually help quite a lot with his casinò nowdays since they’re always there and mostly helpful. He used to think he didn’t have a Chat before loosing his eye and that always made him quite envious of all those that did. Well, better late then never I guess and at least that fight with Technoblade wasn’t a complete loss...

Foolish’s Chat appears in reflections on golden surfaces. They appear as still images, giving him insipiration for his builds. Sometimes they can be little scenes from his dark past, he doesn’t like those times, doesn’t like how the red hue surrounding them ruins the beautiful gold blocks their reflection lays in. It’s becoming more frequent since he joined Las Nevadas, so Foolish hasn’t been looking at gold much recently

Fundy’s Chat is an explosion of colors and shapes in the corner of his eyes. They’re not very communicative but they do their best to cheer him up and keep him company. Ghostbur used to see it as well and was always plesantly surprised by seeing how much blue there was when he was around, it was very calming. With how down Fundy’s been lately hs Chat has been extra colorful to try and cheer him up, often taking on the shape of a familiar radish looking fella

Dream used to have a Chat a long time ago, but he got rid of it in time, they were too much of a distraction and he didn’t have the time for it. Now that he’s in prison he wishes they were still with him, but it’s far too late for that now

Sam’s Chat appears as redstone stains in the floors and walls. Sometimes they can be words, but it’s rare. Most of the time they’re just geometrical shapes. They never appear while he’s in Pandora’s Vault and he really wishes they did because the emptiness feels suffocating. Quackity sees his chat as well and they once called him “son” to his face. He’ll never admit it but he’s weirdly fond of them

This is all I could think about for now! I may add more as I think of them, or any of you can add more if you want!

[oskarwing]

I really wanna talk about the parent child relationships in Midnight Mass

I’m not sure if I’m good at writing this sorta Meta but here goes nothing. Very many spoilers follow.

Let’s start with the adults: 

First we have Erin who suffered so much at the hands of her mother and later because of her mother’s abuse. We don’t get much detailed info on Peggy Greene but from what we can gather she was a lot like Beverly Keane, who seemed to idolize her (though that probably got easier for her after Peggy was gone), in her self-righteous over-pious manner. She just happened to be Beverly with an alcohol problem and a daughter who she could take all her anger at life for not working out her way for God loving her just the same as everybody else out. The dove scene is really such a good scene. But Erin was stronger than her mother, stronger than the abuse that was about to repeat itself and when she found out that she would have a child of her own she left and tried her best to give her kid a better life than the one she had. And she found the strength I think with the help of the same God her mother most likely used as legitimation for her abuse (don’t get me wrong I believe it was Erin’s own strength but she also clearly found something in religion that helped her gather it) and it helped her to carve out a path for herself and her unborn child.  

Sarah’s relationship to her parents is such an interesting one because we get to see the end of it. The man who she believed to be her father has been dead for a long while and her mother is suffering through the late stages of dementia. And Sarah showed up for it. As a doctor she most likely knew what would be happening as soon as Mildred started to show the first symptombs but she wasn’t going to leave her mother. That kind of care for an elderly parent shows something that is proven in Mildred’s character time and time again: She is a very devoted parent and the love between mother and daughter flows both ways in every scene they are in together, after the birth of her daughter her world turned around Sarah and she loved her with all she had. There are a few scenes that show that Mildred’s understanding of the duty she felt towards her family came from the old values of her time. She wouldn’t have taken off with John and their child not for a lack of love but because in those times, in catholism still at least where I’m from, you can’t just marry a priest. You can’t just have a child with a priest eventhough you’re married and then fuck off with him. As a woman, as a wife and mother you have to stand with your husband, stand with your child and you have to stop running after fantasies I’m sure Mildred had. I’m saying this all from her perspective btw, I don’t necessarily think running away with John, in the way he wished to, would have been good for Sarah but honesty might have been and her old fashioned values were also what kept her from being truly honest with her daughter.  To John on the other hand Sarah is a fantasy, a dream he couldn’t reach. His daughter, his baby, so close and yet so far away getting to watch her grow into an adult but never being able to really be her father as in her Dad instead of her priest. And it’s painful to him, he clearly loved Mildred, loved Sarah but he was also kinda selfish in his love that in the end took Sarah away. At first he isolated his child by starring at her giving her the creeps and the feeling that she had done something wrong that he knew she was gay and dissaproved and then he took it upon himself to ‘cure’ Mildred in the same way he was. Sarah wanted to take care of her mother wanted to be there for her in those final months and John decided it was up to him to give Mildred a youth potion to make it so she’d never die. And with that he took away from Sarah what is without doubt a hard but for many people a very important last part of the relationship between child and parent. John was a complicated man and would maybe have been a great Dad he certainly showed a lot of fatherly love for his altar boys but he couldn’t have the family in the way he fantasized about and in the end it was that fantasy that made him act the way he did.   

Riley Flynn causes his parents a lot of pain. Him killing that girl in the beginning, his alcoholism, him simply not liking the place, the home they build for themselves through hard work causes the Annie and Ed so much pain and financial loss and you can see how tired they are, how much guilt they feel for failing their son. Ed calls out his own guilt and says that he doesn’t belive it could be Annie’s fault because ‘your mother’s a saint’ but what I truly love about Annie and Ed Flynn is that they both aren’t saints. As a mother Annie is very much overprotective and suffocating, wanting to keep her children on crocket island and hating the notion that they might leave her, even though she is kind and sweet and loving. And while Ed seems rather checked out as a father but he is the more honest parent, never talking down to Riley and telling him as it is, telling him about the pain he caused him while also admitting to the guilt he feels. The Flynns are flawed people even in their religious practice (I think the way Annie speaks about Ali showing up at church when Hassan seemed to be nothing but nice to her spoke very loudly to the fact that Annie is rather misguided sometimes) but they are good people at the core of it and their parenting might have been part of Riley’s way into alcoholism but it wasn’t only them. There were things they couldn’t change and things they had no influence over like his heart being broken by Erin running away, the sort of people he went out on parties with and so many other things...  Yes, they may have shaped their son in a way that made him vulnerable to addiction and the party scene of the stock and tech market and brought him to the point where he killed a child but it doesn’t happen through parenting alone and they also shaped him in the good ways. Him not losing himself when Pruitt changes him, him being brave enough to warn Erin, him standing up for what he believes in those things were also shaped by Ed and Annie. They are one of the best example of flawed but good hearted Christians I have seen in recent media and their portrayal was one of the most heartbreaking ones. 

Now the kids: 

Let’s start with Leeza. Little Leeza Scarborough who before it comes to her wonder gets treated with pity and overprotectiveness from her parents and the island community at large. Leeza was injured by Joe Collie transforming him into the island’s villain and her into the ever present victim.  What happened to her is without a doubt horrible and I understand why Wade and Dolly started to become these overprotective parents, why they were so easily sucked in to John’s and Bev’s scheme. Their little girl was almost taken from them eventhough Wade is the mayor, one of the most powerful people on the island he had no influence over what happened to Leeza even was the one who took her out that day and what followed the accident was as we can gather from their conversation with Sarah a lot of pain and financial burden though they say they would have done it all over for Leeza. In fact a lot of places in crockett island are wheelchair accesible and I am sure that Wade as mayor made it so (I can’t really imagine that a small place like the island was very inclusive though I may be wrong).  After Leeza is healed they don’t want to question in don’t want to think about what might have been the cause for it. In fact they stop questioning anything after that point, after Leeza walks again they are completely vulnerable to Bev’s manipulation and them letting that happen, them just going along with everything, Wade protecting John after he kills Joe long after Leeza forgave him and with her forgiveness send Joe on a better path is what in the end makes them lose her. Because Leeza isn’t that little victim who needs pity and help, she is a strong minded, strong willed young woman with a lot of wit who similar to Erin finds strength in her faith but in a way that isn’t devotion without question and when the Easter vigil is held she doesn’t follow her parents eventhough she loves them deeply. She forgives them I think, because that’s what Leeza’s character is about in it’s core but her parents were two of the instigators behind what happened on the island, without Wade’s protection John and Bev couldn’t have come as far as they did and they put their trust in them because they loved their daughter so much they didn’t stop to question if maybe what made Leeza walk again was also a bad thing. 

Ali and Hassan don’t have it easy and I as a white person really can’t speak much on the racism and religious discrimination they face.  I can say this I think: The first line spoken about Ali before we even really get to look at him is “You didn’t invite Aladin” and already sets us up for what both of them know: They are the outsiders. Not only because they just moved to the island but also because in their faith they are different from their peers and religion can often be a community building event for people before it is anything else. Ali starts balming his father a little for that, for not trying to fit in more with the community, for moving after his mother’s death and then not trying to be closer to the people around them and for the pain all the pain the two of them went through before Crockett island. It isn’t oly peer pressure though of course that brings Ali to St Patrick’s. Sure, Ali wanted to be part of the community but also desperately wanted to believe that there was a devine power who could if he just did it (it meaning faith) the right way he might find a way to avoid the pain of his parents. Hassan knew that and he warned him that that wasn’t how it worked. Hassan was a protective Dad and maybe he overdid it from time to time but his worries were never without reason, his need to keep his son safe from a world that hated him for a crime that happened when he wasn’t even born yet never unfounded and him wanting to make sure his kid kept the memory of his mother alive never anything but the wish of a griefing man and loving father. In the end when they pray together there is peace in them. They face their ends with the dignity Ali’s mother would have wished for and they face it as father and son. While Beverly the true religious terrorist of the story burns away without it. 

Warren is the youngest Flynn and it is never directly stated yet omnipresent that his coming of age happens in the shadow of his older brother’s mistake.  Annie warns him away from drinking when he goes out he in fact doesn’t drink. He never drinks because of what his brother did.  Warren would have been 12 when Riley killed that girl and so he would have seen and felt what his brother’s actions did to his parents fully without being yet old enough to maybe see the nuance.  Annie and Ed probably try to right the wrong they believe to have done in parenting Riley with Warren and that’s a lot for a kid. I do think it’s pretty usual that parents of multiple children especially when there’s a larger age gap try to do better with the younger children, but that isn’t fair is it?  Warren is his own person not a second chance to do it over.  And yet seemingly he does what is asked of him. He’s alter boy, he’s charming and helpful and sweet, he doesn’t drink (even when he does smoke pot) and he helps his father where he can with his work.  But in the end he feels guilty because he thinks he wasn’t enough and says at that last dinner he would have been different if he had known he wouldn’t see his family again. But Leeza is right they know and they love him and Warren deserved to not be perfect all the time. 

Littlefoot saved Erin and Erin payed her back with all the love she had. She was never born but she gave her mother the strength and willpower to leave.  In her speech to Joe Leeza said he reached through time and took things from her she didn’t even know she had yet.When Erin left her husband she reached through time and saved Littlefoot from a childhood like hers and when John gave Erin the angel’s vampire’s blood he reached through time and took away her child, a child who would have been loved and cared for. A child with an amazing mother and probably a great step-dad.  Littlefoot’s story is tragic because she never got one.