starts wailing

And All This Devotion (1/1)

Happy Valentine’s Day, @once-upon-a-captain-swan!

Hi, dollface! I’m your CSSV and had so much fun writing this for you. I’ve enjoyed our little chats over the last few weeks and I hope you enjoy the story. I tried to put as many little touches of you in it as I could. 




The knock came at 2:05. It was tentative, barely pulling Killian out of a dreamless sleep and for a moment, he thought he’d imagined it. Fuzzy-brained, he was a second away from chalking it up to a rattling pipe or noise from the street when another knock came, this one more insistent. 

Tossing the covers off and cursing as he kicked his feet free from the tangled sheet, he padded through the living room, throwing the deadbolt and dramatically pulling the door open, ready to give his untimely visitor hell while wearing nothing more than a pair of boxer briefs and a scowl.

The piss and vinegar was short-lived when his eyes fell onto the figure standing in the hallway. 

Her face was red and blotchy with strands of blonde hair sticking to tear tracks. A cheap diaper bag, stretched to the limits and overflowing, was slung over her shoulder, one of those infant car seats designed for carrying at her feet, the baby inside asleep. 

Chin lifting just enough to convey some measure of pride, her eyes wouldn’t rise enough meet his. When she spoke it was to the dog tags resting on his chest.

“We didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

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All I Have


“Please,” Anti whispered, tears dripping down his face.


“Please,” Anti whispered, his shoulders shaking from holding it in.


Please,” Anti whispered.

“I-I didn’t mean to Anti,” Dark said, his colors going out for the first time in months. In his hands he held a burned, tattered stuffed toy, something that had once had been cherished. “I’m sor-”

“Sorry?!” Anti shouted, glitches starting to appear as his fingers began to twitch and his eyes began to glow. “You promised you wouldn’t touch it! You fucking promised!”

“I didn’t fucking know it was there!” Dark shouted back, anger slipping through a little before he stopped himself. “I was just trying to wash one of your jackets and you left it in your pocket.”

“So it’s my fault?” Anti whispered, his body stilling for a second.

“No- No it’s my fault,” Dark said, looking at Anti with soft brown eyes. “I’m s-”

Anti punched him. He hit the ground, trying to blink tears back from his now-broken nose as his vision filled with glitches, with static.

Goddammit!” Anti screamed, his voice jumping and layering itself as he spoke. “Goddammit!”

“St-” Dark tried to tell him.

Anti kicked him and he felt something crack in his chest. His back hit the floor.


Goddammit!” Anti screamed one last time before he really began to hit him. His fists sent blow after blow into Dark’s face, sending a wave of impact through him with every hit, and after a while Dark just stopped fighting back.

How could you?!” Anti howled at the now still body that lay on the ground. “How could you?!”

Then he started to kick him.


Finally the door opened and Jack was there. He looked at Anti with a horrified look, blood draining from his face.

“P-Please,” Anti whispered, holding the body of his only friend in his arms. “I-I broke him.”

“I-Is that Mark?” Jack whispered, swaying on his feet as he looked at Dark.

“I-I can’t fix him,” Anti said, finally letting himself sob as he crumpled to the ground, his body curling around the only person he had ever cared about. He started to wail. Wail from sorrow, from regret, from grief.

After a moment of hesitation Jack stepped towards him and touched his shoulder, as if he could offer him support. Anti’s head shot up, black eyes filled with tears and desperation looking up at Jack.

“P-Please,” he sobbed. “Can you fix him?”

“I ca-,” Jack tried to say, but Anti grabbed him in a grip that almost broke his wrist. Tears streamed from his eyes as he looked at Jack.

Please,” he begged, his voice almost a whimper. “He’s all I have.”


a compilation of pure scenes from rwby: 

  • when yang hugs ruby in her first-ever scene on the show 
  • when yang hugs ruby after she almost got fuckin splattered by the deathstalker
  • “we’ll break his legs!”
  • nora valkyrie just makes everything Pure 
  • when yang hugs ruby in ‘no brakes’ and spins her around
  • fucking scratch that, just count every single hug scene that’s happened in rwby. weiss and winter, blake and yang, ren and nora, ruby and yang. it goes on for days. hugs = pure af. 
  • every single hug scene in the entirety of rwby, for that matter 
  • any scene containing pyrrha nikos 
  • the entire fucking episode of 3x1 that shit was AWESOME man
  • penny’s little wave at ruby in 3x3, after qrow beat the shit out of winter and then managed to pawn the blame off on her 
  • “there was one incident with a magnet… but i managed to pull it off.” 
  • literally every single appearance that contains penny polendina is pure
  • you cannot argue otherwise 
  • jaune and pyrrha having their Moment in 3x8 before she went magneto on him 
  • taiyang kissing the top of ruby’s head after she woke up from her coma in 3x12. u go taiyang. 
  • in fact, all of taiyang’s appearances in 3x12 were pure. a good boi. 
  • literally any renora scene in the entire show 
  • actually wait the sex joke scene in 4x12 technically wasn’t pure. so every renora scene in the show minus that specific one 
  • the entire blake and ghira scene + every single one of kali’s appearances because she is Adorable 
  • when qrow jumped in to save ruby from tyrian in 4x6 and she smiled up at him 
  • the scene where nora rests her head on jaune’s shoulder when the ‘home’ ost is playing and ren puts his hand on hers 
  • when ruby places her hand on qrow’s head
  • yall think im playing but i started wailing like a dying seal during that scene. fuck me UP @crwby!!!!!!
  • i’ll add more later but yes. this is Pure. 
Behind The Mask

Matt Murdock/ Reader

Originally posted by arabellawrites

Words: 1.570

Summary: So what if you have a crush on the vigilante Daredevil? It’s not like he knows you personally.

Request: Can I please request a Matt/reader where they are friends but she doesn’t know yet that Matt is Daredevil, and one day they start talking about DD and Foggy starts bugging her about “having a crush on the Devil”(and she doesn’t deny it). And later on, Matt makes a move as Daredevil and drops a hint or two of who he really is?? Thankyou :)

Tagging: @kwaiky

Requested by: @iamthemaskhewears

Author’s note: im glad to see that daredevil fans aint dead. did a slight twist to the prompt

You take a long hard look at the reported photo of the vigilante Daredevil elaborately leaping to a nearby building plastered on the front page of the newspaper. The identity of his true self is unknown and the mystery surrounding him makes you want to know more about this infamous vigilante.

“Really, Y/N? Again with the newspaper?” Foggy’s voice comes from behind, making you grin at what he might say next.

“Next thing I know, you have a shrine of Daredevil in your closet.” He places a mug of hot coffee on the coaster next to you.

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For anon…reader is Tony’s daughter as requested. This imagine has mentions of an abusive relationship. I will place a ‘keep reading’ line in order to avoid accidental reading. You’re beauties’s health is much more important than my writing.

Keep reading

Anonymous said: Can you do a monty imagine we’re he finds his girlfriend on the list (you can chose what for) and he gets really pissed of at Alex and fights him about it then the reader and monty end up in smut (or whatever your comfortable with ) xxx

Author’s Note: I tried to do pre-smut, but it didn’t really work out. Sorry!

Originally posted by wood-chris

Monty X Reader

You’re sitting in class when a piece of folded up paper gets tossed onto your desk. Half asleep, you blink blearily at it before Monty gently kicks one of the legs to your chair. And glancing at him, he smirks before gesturing to the piece of paper.

What is it? He mouths since the teacher is too busy droning on and on.

You shrug before fully sitting up, stretching in your seat and then reaching for the paper. Unfolding it, you scoff at what you see. It’s someone’s lame attempt at a Who’s Hot- n -Who’s Not, pitting the female population of Liberty High against one another. And not one to give these type of things more than a second glance, you crumble up the piece of paper and walk it over to the trashcan.

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Missin' It


This was written long ago so unfortunately I am still indeed in my writing funk. My brain doesn’t seem to want to co-operate. Enjoy the Dad Harold feels. 

“I miss it.” The phrase was muffled by your chest were Harry had decided to rest his head for the night. His words were accompanied by slow strokes over your stomach, your t-shirt pushed up to bundle around your breasts. There was still a slight bump adorning the soft area, only being a month post-partum. Parenthood was…challenging, to say the least. It was no lie that there was no manual to raising a child, but you were proud of your efforts so far, considering you were first time parents.

“Miss what, baby?” The movements of your hand fiddling with the hair at his nape slowed and your eyebrows furrowed with confusion. You were longing to bring your daughter to join you and Harry on the bed, but seeing as this was only one of the few moments of peace you and Harry have had together since her arrival, you decided she was best off in her crib that accompanied your side of the bed. Harry had complained numerous times, but shut up once you reminded him she could be on his side once he produced the right functions to feed her at 3am.

“The bump, an’ havin’ her close. I mean, I love holdin’ ‘eh, but I feel like she growing too fast. I wish we could just rewind.” Your heart burst with love and gratitude; you silently laughed at the fact he thought she was growing too fast. It had only been a month and she was still tiny, her clothes hanging off her frail body. You were watching her now through the gaps of the bars on her crib. She stirred every now and then and you held your conversation until she settled back down.

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anonymous asked:

Hi, first off, hope you're having a nice day and sorry in advance if this question is worded badly I was wondering if you could discuss landing jumps because I've heard a lot of commentators say that Shoma Uno saves his landings with his knees and from Seimei at the GPF the commentators were saying that one of the great things about Yuzu was that he was able to land jumps cleanly without being over the edge properly. So I was wondering what was meant by that Thank you :)

Hi there, I’m having a decent day, thank you (just lazing around waiting for my fave to start his tennis match, no biggie) :D Sure, we can discuss jump landing. I will get the top 6 men to serve as illustration and I will use this one relatively simple jump all of them can do: the quad toe loop.

Here’s one from Shoma, Skate America 2016, GOE +2.29:

Shoma didn’t exactly have to use his knee to save his landing here, and he usually doesn’t have to do that either. The thing that makes his landing look a bit like “saving” is knee and ankle torque, which is what happens when a skater stops their jump’s rotation on the ice instead of in the air. Note that Shoma doesn’t under-rotate his jump: in most cases he rotates his last revolution over the ¾ mark so there’s no question with base value. However, his jumps are quite small and do not allow him ample time to unwrap his body before he touches down. You can see in the slow motion: there was a lot of tension in his right side when he landed, which led to him having to twist his knee to maintain balance, his free leg taking a bit more time to swing to the check position, and his blade drawing a hook shape on the ice instead of a smooth curve. 

Here’s what it looks like when a skater really has to save a landing, demonstrated by Patrick, Trophée Éric Bompard 2013, GOE +1.43:

You see here how Patrick lost some control over his axis (my theory: this jump was a bit higher than how he intended it to be) and ended up landing slightly forward, so he had to use his right knee, his arms, as well as his free leg to regain balance. It was safe enough but not very pretty :) Kudos to Patrick though, because doing that was not easy and it took great core strength to affect that sort of maneuver. I’m actually being kinda mean to Patrick here, because he’s an oddball who always lands his quad toe combos better than his solos (at least in recent memory), like this:

What you can see in the slow motion is the landing of the triple toe, and that’s the kind of landing we want to see from these gentlemen: smooth landing curve, a quick snap into the check position, free leg nicely extended, good speed and good flow back into the program.  

Here’s a quad toe from Nathan, US Nationals 2017, GOE +2.00:

Nathan’s jumps are about average-sized so he does not have to deal with knee torque, however his landing knee is quite stiff and he tends to land on a rather flat edge. Ideally you’d want to see a lower knee bend and a deeper outside edge. Both of these factors, besides adding to the aesthetic of the landing, serve the more important purpose of better absorbing the force of the impact and making the landing less jarring on the skater’s body.

Boyang’s landing is what happens when a skater makes better use of both knee and edge. Here’s his quad toe from Grand Prix Final 2015, GOE +1.86:

Boyangs jumps have amazing height and distance, which make them breathtaking to watch, however times and again, this would cause him some difficulty with control and tip his landing forward, as you can see in this one jump right here. Note, however, that the way he saved his landing was different from how Patrick did it earlier: Boyang relied mostly on his knee and edge, while Patrick used also his back and arms.  

And now for the cherries on top, let’s look at the Cricket brothers: they both have excellent landings, though very different in styles.

Javier first, World Championships 2017, GOE +3.00:

Yep, damn well as near perfection as you’re ever going to get: check out that deep edge on landing and that smooth running curve, that uninterrupted flow back into the program, perfectly in tune with the music too if you watch the video. Javier’s landing is in the same style as Patrick’s: it’s the sort that gives off a feeling of solidity and sureness, as it utilizes the skater’s entire body and requires great core strength, which happens to be the area Javi excels at.

Then of course, Yuzuru, World Championships 2017, GOE +2.43:

Yuzu’s landing is the perfected version of Boyang’s: a result of more refined control over his axis, so that the size of the jump works for him and not against him. Compared to Javi’s, Yuzu’s landing relies almost exclusively on knee and edge: check out the way he used his knee bend and the angle of his blade to absorb the impact, plus how his arms were opened virtually as an afterthought and appeared to serve the aesthetic more than the practical :) That’s why I remarked earlier that these two training partners have two very different landing styles: Javi’s is firm and powerful, Yuzu’s is light and elegant, both are lovely to watch.

Man, this topic sure is fun to talk about :D Thanks for bringing it up! 

*wail* tennis match still hasn’t started *wail*

Green Juice

Bruce Banner X Reader

With the Hulk under control and the government pardoning Bruce Banner under provision of working with the Avengers, Bruce finally feels safe enough to live a relatively normal life. He even steps into the dating world but what happens when he looses control in front of Reader’s 4 year old son?

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We were opposites at birth
I was steady as a hammer
No one worried ‘cause they knew just where I’d be
And they said you were the crooked kind
And that you would never have no worth
But you were always gold to me

rosaliemoon  asked:

Well..hi!! I was wonderig if you had any fics where they leave a baby at Stiles' door or de-aged Stiles.. just Stiles and cuteesy babies cause it's my weakness. Love you blog, keep up the great work guys!

Your weakness is almost my weakness.  :D  Found babies it is!  -Emmy

Daddy Stiles and his Metacrisis - Adopted Daughter Laura by lunaraindrop 

(3,139 I General I WIP)   *sterek, magic!Stiles

Warnings: Spoilers for S4, mentions of a *briefly* dead body

“Stiles, you literally brought her into the world with a piece of yourself. You were the first person she saw and scented on when you picked her up. What does that tell you?”

Stiles eyes widened.

“Oh God, she thinks I’m her Mom!”

Once Again, In a Little While by adeepeningdig 

(4,148 I General I Complete)  *sterek

Parrish is holding the infant like a fullback carrying the football, tight and close to his body, as if he’s afraid someone’s going to strip it away from him at any moment.

“Sir,” he whispers, “this baby is running hot.”

“So call the paramedics, get Sally on the line. For heaven’s sake, Parrish, this baby needs a hospital, not the sheriff” The baby is hot to the touch but his pale eyes, when they blink open, are clear and he’s not flushed like a feverish infant would be.

“No,” Parrish hisses, “I mean this baby is running hot. I don’t think he’s human.”

John looks at the priest, still standing in the aisle, hunched in concern. He looks at the baby in his duck onesie and little yellow hat.

“Oh, fuck,” he says.

Just a Spark by MyChemicalRachel 

(6,798 I General I Complete)   *sterek, asexual!Stiles, spark!stiles

“A bird, okay? I heard something on my balcony and when I went out to see what it was, this giant ass pelican dropped the kid and flew away.”
Stiles feels frozen again for a moment before a grin forms on his lips and he’s clutching the baby to his chest, shaking with laughter. “You’re telling me a stork brought you a little werewolf child?”
Derek frowns, folding his arms stubbornly across his chest. “I told you you wouldn’t believe me,” He grumbles.
“Oh no,” Stiles says, trying to catch his breath and talk between spurts of giggles. “I totally believe you. That’s just fucking hilarious.”

Baby Cub by LaBelleetlaloup 

(7,242 I Teen I Complete)

Between one thing and another, Stiles ends up living in the rebuilt Hale House while Derek’s off finding himself. When Hunters arrive on the heels of a supposedly feral omega, Stiles finds a baby werewolf abandoned on the front porch… a baby werewolf with the rare ability to shift into a full wolf.

Alpha’s Guardian by Kindred 

(9,214 I Mature I WIP) *sterek, scott/stiles, stiles/isaac, allison/scott

Stiles finds a toddler on his door step

Everything With You by ElStark 

(9,239 I Explicit I Complete)   *sterek

“What’s going on?” Derek asked.

Scott shook his head, “You need to see.”

“Would you stop with the fucking mystery and just tell us already?” Stiles snapped at him.

“We found a baby,” Scott relented, starting to half jog towards the opposite line of trees they had been standing in front of.

Stiles looked at Derek and found him frowning deeply. He reached for his hand and squeezed, Derek looked at him and gave him a small smile, lacing his fingers with Stiles’.

Scott took them to the big tree in the middle of the forest that had a hollow bark, except this time when they looked inside, it wasn’t really hollow. A little girl, maybe four or five years old, was sitting in there all curled up in herself, her arms hugging her knees tightly.

3 Idiots and a Baby by WithMyTeeth (Ylith) 

(10,255 I Explicit I WIP)  *sterek

One little abandoned Were-baby changes everything.

Hopeless Opus by Casspiration 

(11,162 I General I Complete)  *sterek, packmom!Stiles

Scott may or may not have angered a witch and gotten the entire pack turned into tiny toddlers bundling with energy and Derek is absolutely terrified of children.


The fic in which Stiles is good with kids and it makes Derek want to press him against every available surface.

Things Have Changed by steadyasthestars 

(12,206 I Not Rared I WIP)   *sterek, character death

After a tragic accident, Stiles and Derek are now taking care of Scott and Allison’s son. While co-parenting they discover that their love for their fallen friends isn’t the only thing keeping them together.

Open the Door by TatsuKitty 

(14,854 I Explicit I Complete)   *sterek

“What the hell?” He blinked and jerked his head up to see if anyone was around. “This is some really shitty joke, right?”  The baby was silent, bundled in pale pink blankets in an honest to god woven basket.
Stiles knelt down and poked at it.
The baby started wailing, immediately and loudly.

Omnis Cellula E Cellula by twnkwlf 

(15,296 I Explicit I Complete)  *sterek

“You put the diaper on backwards,” Derek says.

What to Expect when You Aren’t Expecting by MemeKon 

(16,921 I Teen I Complete)  *sterek

The baby’s wailing is piercing, Stiles doesn’t know how Derek can stand it. He tries shushing her and cooing at her and bouncing her a little, but the crying only gets louder, and in addition to hurting his ears, it’s hurting his soul.

“Stiles,” Derek interrupts him mid-croon, eyebrows meeting over the bridge of his nose, “have you fed her since you found her?”

Stiles gapes and looks down at the baby’s distressed face as she bawls.

That Could be Us by captainpinkoreos 

(23,851 I Explicit I WIP)   *sterek

It’s been two years since that time Derek and Stiles spent a night together. Stiles thought they had something, he was so sure of it, but Derek began to drift away from him and towards the pack’s old high school English teacher, Jennifer Blake. Stiles will do anything for an explanation of the relationship between him and Derek, but when the pack finds a baby in the preserve and Stiles volunteers to care for the baby, he and Derek are forced to confront the nature of their relationship and how Jennifer Blake found her way between them.

The pack finds a baby, the baby forces Derek and Stiles to talk about their angsty past, and it’s all Jennifer Blake’s fault.

Split Infinitives by Guede 

(25,583 I Explicit I WIP)   *steter, alive Hale family, magic!stiles

Several months later, Talia’s settling into her role as alpha, Peter’s at college, and the time-traveling trio of Stiles, Scott, and Lydia are getting used to the idea of staying put.  Sounds like a good time for some unexpected guests.

The More That I Know (The More I Want To) by LadySlytherin 

(43,655 I Mature I Complete)  *sterek

When death, in the form of hunters, comes for a family of Kelpies seeking refuge in the Preserve - in Hale territory - the Hale Pack is too late to save them. Before he dies, the male Kelpie presses a precious bundle into Stiles’ arms and begs the Emissary to take responsibility for it, which an initially reluctant Stiles does. When he agreed, Stiles had no idea what the sight of him with a baby would do to his esteemed Alpha, Derek. If he’d known, he might not have been so reluctant to agree.

Tales of Sparks and Lightning by graveltotempo 

(48,342 I Teen I WIP)   *sterek

Life had not been very kind to Stiles Stilinski.
He lost his mother at an early age, and watched many of his friends die while he was still in high school. He had looked at death in the eye more than once in that year alone.
He had thought about dying. More than once. He had always expected to die mauled by a supernatural creature that wasn’t supposed to exist, or piss off the wrong werewolf, or try Derek one too many times: all of his deaths included a ferocious battle for survival.
But this? This wasn’t him being incredibly stupid. He had lived in Beacon Hills dodging supernatural mauling and killer trees just to die in a stupid airplane crash.
After all that had happened, he was going to die by human hands.

I Know Where Babies Come From, Derek by DiscontentedWinter 

(51,937 I Mature I Complete)  *sterek

Stiles finds a baby on the porch.

It looks exactly like him.

Well, this is awkward.

Places in the Heart by Strangeredlantern, Vague_Shadows    

(118,493 I Explicit I Complete)  *stiles/isaac, derek/isaac

Isaac swears there are a billion different kinds of baby formulas in this fucking aisle…
“Hey, man, you okay?”
The voice startles him; he thought he was alone in his dilemma, and he’s embarrassed to wonder how long this guy has been standing there observing Isaac’s pathetic internal meltdown.  Something in the guy’s face seems kind—maybe it’s those Bambi eyes, or the slight grin on his face?—and Isaac gets the idea that even if he noticed the silent freak out he won’t mention it.
“You okay?” he repeats.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Can I—uh—help?  Maybe? I’m not the world’s best at the whole baby thing, but I’m a pretty awesome godfather to the world’s cutest one-year-old so…”
Empath - shulkie - Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Mature, ~5.5k words, ereri

Eren had been like this for as long as he’d remembered. Whenever a baby in the daycare would start crying, Eren would wail along with them. He remembered passing by old men telling bawdy jokes as a child and he would laugh along with them without knowing the punchline. When his friends hit puberty that was an awkward time for him. But it made him a better brother to Mikasa, because he knew exactly how she felt when a boy was mean to her (and…maybe he used his fists to settle that). And when Armin was cramming for a test, he was stressing right along with him, poring over notes for a final he didn’t even have.

This way he had, of feeling what others were feeling, grew. He became more aware of it. He knew when Jean had a crush on Mikasa. And he knew before Jean when he had a crush on Armin. Sometimes it was a blessing. Most times…it felt like a curse. Because when you’re a child that cries when someone else cries, they just call you sympathetic. But when you’re a grown man who has just watched a child drop their ice cream on the ground, it’s weird to cry too. But then, there were days he couldn’t help but enjoy. Passing by an older couple still holding hands and so in love with each other had Eren humming old love songs all day.

More often than not, these feelings lasted for a long time. It wasn’t just like a flash and then it was over; they lingered, floating around in his head, turning over and over. It was like running your tongue over a jagged tooth, or a song on the radio that you just can’t get out of your head. They were persistent. They were overwhelming. They were confusing. But he dealt with them.

That is, until the man in the elevator.

chimaerakitten  asked:

oooooh tell us more about little!Bruce's fascination with Alfred

i can’t believe you picked the exact thing i wanted to talk about

so alfred’s just a regular valet, right? his life has zero to do with the life of the resident baby, except to roll his eyes when the annoying fleshy sack starts wailing. up to this point in his life, he’s never been a kid person, or a baby person, or enjoyed the presence of anyone younger than eighteen. the waynes had nannies for this sort of thing, why would alfred have to do it?

so, here’s the thing. when i was a kid, all i wanted was my grandmother. i would scream and scream and scream until i heard my grandmother, and then i would keep screaming until my grandmother was holding me. i wanted no one else in this world, and no one could figure out why, because my grandmother is not even that good with babies. in fact, she’s terrible with babies, she’s dropped a few, and i was just a baby possessed. i submit to you that bruce was the exact same way with alfred, and if it wasn’t alfred, he didn’t like it.

the fascination with alfred didn’t wear off as he got older, either, and as a toddler he was probably gripping alfred’s pants leg and tottering after him the way baby elephants grab their mother’s tails. sainthood for dear alfred is so, so close, because do you know how many times he’s turned around and BOOM there is a tiny child peering at him? do you know how many near-heart attacks he’s had because bruce JUST POPPED UP UNEXPECTEDLY. do you know how creepy a pale, dark-haired child in an ancient and looming house can be? the answer is super fucking creepy. 

so basically: bruce spent galas and parties hiding out with alfred, and also avoided his parents with alfred, and also insisted alfred do all the things with him. essentially, he was like a little bur that you get on your clothes, except probably twice as annoying.

Cold Outside (Credence Barebone Imagine)

Your parents weren’t wealthy, they weren’t lavished and spoiled or rotten from the inside out with greed like everyone you knew seemed to think.

You were a simple child, perhaps a little too simple, but careful like your parents nonetheless. You sat on your knees behind the counter of your parents’ pastry shop, sniffling every so often - your nose stuffy and red from the cold.

“Y/N,” your mother said from her place behind the counter, “it’s getting warmer out, why don’t you go play with your friends?”

You looked up from your colouring book on the floor to the woman above and sniffed again, “It’s cold outside, Mommy.”

You heard the hum of an impatient woman and shot up from your place on the floor and straightened up your posture, turning into the back room to fetch your overcoat, scarf and matching gloves.

You recognized that woman immediately, the pointed nose and squinted eyes, she scowled down at you from her place behind the counter. Brown hair cupped by that hideous grey hat, skin wrinkled with anger and form shivering from the cold she loomed you, you forced yourself to smile up at her before dashing past both women with a quiet goodbye.

“Y/N, you forgot to pick up y - ” your mother moaned as you rushed out the door, the bell’s ringing and swinging door the only evidence you were ever there at all.

You always hated being seen by customers, especially that horrible woman. Your mind always exaggerated her features in memory but she was still just as hideous inside as she appeared outside in your mind.

Since your parents had realized their dream of opening a bakery together almost eight years ago, that awful woman came every Monday to purchase treats, for herself of course. You knew she had children of her own - adopted, but still hers.

You’d seen them all shuffle single filed out of that dreary old church every Sunday in their ugly blue uniforms, their mother, leader of the Second Salemers preaching to passersby about the danger of witchcraft in America.

Just as you turned a corner, you were blinded by a thick sheet of paper. “Ah!” You swatted the killer paper out of your face and while the wind tried to carry it away, you turned with a grumble only to be blinded yet again.

“P-Please!” You heard a cry, and as you gripped at the paper angrily, scrunching it up and gaping at the dozens of fliers being swept away with the wind you couldn’t help but feel terrible for ever having felt angry at all.

Ahead of you by just a few paces were four boys, “Please, sto-stop it. I need those.” A pale-skinned boy in an ugly blue uniform crawled around on his hands and knees in a pathetic attempt to pick up the fliers.

The other three boys laughed as they stomped the fliers into the snow and dirt, some picking them up to shred them into pieces just to throw them in the Second Salemer’s face. You frowned, those boys weren’t much bigger or older than you and so you puffed out your chest, your coat stretching snuggly across the expanse of your small chest.

Stomping towards the group fiercely, your little legs took long strides that probably looked ridiculous to anyone else, but intimidating to you. “Stop it!”

Your eyes briefly met with the cowaring boy on the ground, who’s knee-high socks and NSPS uniform was completely covered in mud and a flash of sympathy crossed your youthful face before twisting into an angry scowl which looked more like a pout.

“Leave him alone, what’s wrong with you? Those aren’t your fliers!” You pointed accusingly at the group and stomped your foot. “Go away!”

The red-head of the group snorted at you and bunched up a flier with his fist, tossing it at you and raising his eyebrows tauntingly.

“Why do you care? You part of this circus or somethin’?” The brunette of the group turned and laughed at you, poking his tongue out and shredding up another flier.

“I said go away! Do you want me to start screaming?” You threatened, your bottom lip quivering the more worked up you got. “Oh no, guys, we’d better run. Second Salemer’s gonna start screaming.” The ginger taunted. “More like crying.” The brunette smirked, about to open his mouth to speak again when his face met snow.  “Ow!”

Your hand raised above your head, you stomped your foot again, “Go away! Go away!” You screeched as you flung snowball after snowball at the now retreating group of boys.

“Go! Go!” You had long since forgotten about the stray fliers and so as you chased away the group of tyrants, you accidentally trampled a few with your boots. You stopped immediately and let your arms drop, gasping softly as you ducked down onto the ground to gather the remaining fliers. “I’m so sorry,” you apologized, “I’m gonna tell my daddy and he’ll - “ the boy’s shaky hands shot up to catch yours and he whimpered, head down and body quivering, “Plea-se don’t tell anyone! Ma will find o-out!” He begged.

Your eyes widened as they met his properly, his pale face was beginning to grow red, the tips of his ears, nose and lips were all beginning to deepen in colour and as you took in his strangely sharp features, you realized his eyes were also growing puffy and red. He was crying.

“I lost the fliers, Ma is going to be livid with me.” He panicked, scavenging through the melting snow as tears fell from his brown eyes. “These ones are all wet and soggy,” you told the boy, and he almost immediately started wailing, head in his hands - he cried and cried and just wouldn’t stop.

“It’s okay, it’s fine. We can just go get the other ones, right? Those boys threw a whole lot in that direction.” You pointed a finger in the opposite direction and the raven haired boy sniffled, his cries slowly subsiding until only soft hiccups remained. “I-I can’t collect all of them, there’s so many.” You reached out and wrapped your fingers around his wrists, pulling the small boy up into his feet.

“I’ll help, silly.” The boy was completely at a loss for words as you turned, hand-in-hand and running off down the street to fetch his fliers. “We need to hurry, Mommy said it’ll rain today.”

Struggling to keep up with your quick steps, the boy’s eyes wandered from the street ahead to your hand cupping his mindlessly. His eyes watered but he quickly blinked away the tears, he was truly terrified right now. “Look, Second Salem boy - fliers!” You turned to face the brown eyed boy and smiled widely, “I’ll go get those ones across the street, you get the ones here.”

You dashed across the street after a quick left-and-right. You busied yourself catching fliers from the ground, the air and even peoples’ hands to get as many as possible in a nice, neat stack.

On your way back, your eyes scanned the street for the timid boy you’d met, but you saw nothing. You clutched the stack close to your chest as you walked, checking alleyways, looking through glass windows and turning corners. Only when you gave up and began your trek home did you find him again by the side of the street, picking fliers from the gutter.

“There you are,” you pouted, “I thought you left me to do the work.” The boy looked up at you wide-eyed, about to speak when his eyes were forced shut - a droplet of rain had landed on his forehead.

“Oh, oh n-no.” You smiled at the boy, “C'mon,” you grabbed him by the tie carelessly and dragged him down the street and into your parents’ pastry shop away from the cold and the rain. “Mommy, I brought a friend!” You called, smiling at the regulars seated by the window and far wall of the store on your way in. “Mommy, I brought a - ”

“And what’s your friend’s name, dear?” Your mother’s head revealed itself from behind the counter, oven mitts adorning her hands. “This is, uh,” you stopped and frowned almost immediately, your entire body freezing up in thought.

Anyone else who didn’t know you would’ve assumed something was seriously wrong with you at that moment, but your mother and a few customers joined together to laugh at your odd behavior.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Your mother knelt down to eye-level with the boy at your side, all the while you stood useless, still attempting to remember the boy’s name. Had he even told it to you at all? It took a moment for him to respond, but he eventually spoke after a long, timid stare at the ground. “C-Credence, ma'am. Credence Barebone.”

You smiled up at your mother almost instantly, “Credence! His name is Credence, Mommy!”

You clapped your hands together and gasped as the fliers flew to the ground. “Where did you meet Credence, Y/N?” Your mother asked as she began collecting fliers from the ground, brows furrowing as she skimmed over the content. “Ah, a Second Salemer?” The boy, Credence, began shrinking under the gaze of everyone excluding yourself, as you were oblivious to the agenda behind the extremist group.

“Well,” Your mother smiled at you and then at Credence, “you can’t hand out fliers in that weather.” She motioned outside with a nod and you turned to look outside where the rain angrily patted against the glass window. Credence panicked at this, turning to you with wide eyes.

“Ma will definitely give me a lashing for this, I-I should go.” You pouted and reached out, caging Credence’s arm in yours and urging him to come with you to the kitchen, “Well I’m sure your Ma wouldn’t mind you staying for a little while longer? I could give her a discount on her next order of pastries.”

Your mother wriggled her brows suggestively and you nodded, “Please stay and play with me, Credence. I’ll even help you hand out fliers next time!”

Credence bit his lip and looked from you to the door for several moments before the alluring aroma of whatever was being baked and your pleading stare seduced him beyond reason into staying. “I-If it’s not too much trouble, ma'am, may I stay?” You squealed and clutched Credence’s arm tighter, looking up at your mother thankfully.

“Of course, dear,” your mother said. “It’s cold outside.”

Taken [Chapter 2]


Pairing: Suho x Reader

Warnings: Language; may have triggering situations including sexual situations, abuse, violence, etc.

Summary: You were just a normal girl. You were just trying to get by. Until a rather unfortunate relationship brought you to the hands of Suho, the leader of the greatest mafia in the country.

PrologueChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10
Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15
Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Epilogue

“Heh, you’re cuter when you’re asleep.”

You jolt awake from the familiar voice to meet face to face with Suho. You immediately bring yourself back into an upright position, instinctively moving back from him, only to hit the wall.

He let’s out a laugh at your reaction. You scowl.

“I hope you slept well.” His eyes sparkle dangerously. “And thought over what I said.”

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