#I don't even care if it isn't counted as canon i love her and i love them
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we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (21/?)
Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches.
Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence
Rating: Explicit
Chapter Word Count: ~4.6k
ch. 1 - 10 | ch. 11-20 | ch. 21 - i wouldn't marry me either
Feyre gets her ring, and there's angst about it that literally no one asked for.
Some text in this chapter is taken directly from A Court of Mist and Fury.
Read on AO3 or you can find the twenty-first chapter below the readmore.
Well met, High Lady.
The words clanged through me.
But there was hardly time to consider them. The Weaver's dress rustled as she stood and prowled towards me. Though her features were so rotted and warped that they could hardly be called a face anymore, I still recognized a look of hunger—I'd seen it enough back in that cabin.
I suspected, however, that her appetite was far more gruesome than mine.
"I'm here to make a bargain," I said quickly.
She took another step closer, the motion oddly graceful—the Weaver carried herself more like a lady than I could ever manage. Perhaps, millennia ago, she'd been one.
"What could you possibly have to offer me?" she said in that voice that sounded so youthful, so clear and lovely.
"Lives," I said. "A few dozen, enough for several meals and bolts of cloth. There isn't much meat on my bones, but they'll have more."
"Not even a thread from your own life, little wolf?" The Weaver reached out a sickly-looking bone-white hand, running a gnarled, spindly finger down my ribs. I trembled. Her touch was feather-light, but it seemed to leech the heat from me all the same. "The one I see right here is quite beautiful."
The mating bond. Nothing was worth giving that away. I took a step back, all-too-aware that I was dangerously close to being cornered.
"That is not on offer."
The Weaver's laugh was bright and and musical. "Are you sure about that?Powerful magic makes for fine cloth. I'd pay a pretty penny for a golden thread like that."
The Weaver of the Wood might have been a death-god, but she sounded no different than the businessmen I'd overheard meeting with my father before his downfall. I was too much of a merchant's daughter to fall for it.
"I"m here to retrieve the ring that's rightfully mine as Lady of the Night Court. Nothing more." I seldom voiced my title aloud, and perhaps for the first time, saying it didn't make me feel like a girl playing dress-up with clothes far too big for her.
The dark lines of the Weaver's mouth widened into what might have been a grin. "And I was told by the last one not to make it easy on you."
Of course his mother did—Rhys could be maddening, and I supposed he must have gotten it from somewhere.
"If you accept my offer, there may be more than one mating bond in it for you. I don't know how many of them have a mate, but the rogue Illyrian war-bands are yours if you return my ring and allow me to leave this place unharmed."
I'd practiced the words in my head, careful to close a loophole, but it still came as a surprise that my voice didn't shake. The Weaver circled me, occasionally reaching out a bony hand to inspect the knives strapped to my waist and thighs. I let her look, even as I shivered—if they were something she wanted, she could have them, too.
"You will touch nothing in this cottage save the ring. Bring me half of your prisoners as a show of good faith, and you will have until I'm finished with them to find what's yours. Then deliver the rest immediately and leave me be."
I doubted she'd take very long doing…whatever she did to her victims. But I still didn't feel a pull towards a single object in any of the crowded shelves or piles of junk filling the cottage. There wouldn't be time for a thorough search.
And the bloodthirsty delight sparking in pits that should have been her eyes told me she knew it, too.
"What happens if I don't find the ring?" I said, letting my hand drift towards the handle of the knife at my hip.
"My terms have been more than generous, High Lady. Don't push me any further."
There it was again…that title. "Why did you call me that?" I should have focused on bargaining, but the words were out of my mouth before I could think them through.
"Don't ask questions you already know the answer to."
More cryptic faerie bullshit, then. I flexed the fingers of my left hand self-consciously. A death-god could probably see through a glamour. Nothing more.
I squared my shoulders. "Fine. I accept the terms of your bargain."
The tang of magic filled the air as a small, curling tattoo formed just behind my ear. A crescent moon—its twin was now inked on the Weaver's forearm.
One tug on the bond, and Rhys delivered half of the rogue Illyrians to the cottage door.
I'd turned away just as the Weaver's mouth of stumped teeth went wide in anticipation. There were screams, sickly gurgles, wet noises as she ripped flesh into pieces, the crunch and crack of bones breaking.
Bones. Snapping, splintering bones, just like—
I forced myself to breathe, even as my heart raced and bile climbed up my throat. Borrowed time. I was on borrowed time, and there wouldn't be much of it.
I scanned the shelves, hoping to catch sight of a jewel glittering in the gloom. But all I saw was junk, even as I crouched and looked over the cluttered tables and overstuffed drawers…
Then I felt it.
A tug, a tap on the shoulder. A glimmer of something reaching for me, familiar as the whorls of night that had left me with my tattoo, laced with a constellation pointing the way. But even as it grasped me…there was something else.
The star-flecked power felt quintessentially Rhys, but…there was something of me in it, too. It was strange, like looking into a mirror and finding two sets of eyes—one violet and one blue-grey—staring back.
Take me home, it seemed to say. I've been away far too long.
Heedless of the horrible noises behind me, I barreled through the maze of tables and junk, letting the pulse guide the way. I stopped at the shelf on the wall next to the hearth. Close—it was close.
An old letter knife, books in leather that I did not want to touch or smell; a handful of acorns, a tarnished crown of ruby and jasper, and—
The ring.
It was made of twisted strands of gold and silver, flecked with pearl, and set with a stone of deepest, solid blue. Sapphire—but different. I’d never seen a sapphire like that, even at my father’s offices. This one…I could have sworn that in the pale light, the lines of a six-pointed star radiated across the round, opaque surface.
My ring.
"There you are," I couldn't help but whisper. "I've been looking for you."
Careful to keep my bargain, I plucked it from the shelf, pinching it between my forefinger and thumb to avoid touching anything else. Time to go. I turned towards the door.
And nearly retched on the spot. The Illyrians weren't dead yet—they were still shrieking like wounded animals—but their shredded entrails were…everywhere. And the Weaver had unhinged her jaw to sate that unholy hunger.
As I walked past them to leave the cottage, I did not look away. I had chosen this fate for them, horrible as it was. The least I could do was bear witness, even as my feet slid along the blood-soaked floor and crossed the threshold.
The rest of them were hers, too. The screams started again, and I felt the tattoo fade. As I stalked towards the trees, I clutched the ring so tightly that the prongs around the sapphire nearly split open my skin.
And perhaps it made me a monster, a murderous human with ice in her heart, but…I didn't feel guilty. If anything, I was relieved. The echo of magic that had wormed its way into my soul belonged solely to the Night Court, and there was nothing linking me back to Tamlin or Spring. I wasn't…tainted.
I found Rhys leaning casually against a tree, hands in his pockets—lounging practically. As I approached, his groomed brows flicked up in a silent question.
I held up the ring.
A smile—a real one, not a smirk, something boyish and decidedly un-High-Lord-like—bloomed on his face. Despite the agonized screams still ringing in my ears, my stomach flipped pleasantly. I grinned back.
With the horror growing even more distant, I let myself feel proud of what I'd done. And maybe it was just the way Rhys was smiling at me, but I felt…lighter. Giddy, almost.
I'd done it. The ring in my hand was tangible proof that I deserved my place in the Night Court, at his side, and I hadn't realized how much better it made me feel to have it.
Too eager to walk, Rhys winnowed the last few feet of distance between us. I pressed forward to kiss him, rising up on my toes, and he scooped me up in one smooth movement.
Not that I'd ever doubt you, he said in my head, but should I take this to mean it all went smoothly?
Of course it did—I only ever bargain fairly.
Rhys laughed against my lips, setting me back down. When he pulled away, his violet eyes were soft. "You're brilliant," he breathed, reaching up to run a thumb along my cheek. "I didn't think I'd ever see that ring again."
He took my free hand and winnowed us away. I'd assumed we were going to the townhouse, or at least, back to Velaris, and blinked in surprise when a clearing in a pine forest materialized instead. Illyria.
Before us were two stones—headstones. They were small but unworn, with no decoration or text other than two names I didn't recognize. And in front of them, the grass was covered in pebbles and small rocks.
Rhys must have understood my confusion. Voice thick, he said, "Our kind don't leave flowers on graves like humans do. As immortals…we prefer something more permanent and leave stones instead."
Each stone a visit, and there were piles of them, small stacks like miniature fortresses. I wondered how many Rhys had left, if any had been added since he'd been imprisoned Under the Mountain. The grass around the graves was well-kept—someone had been taking care of this place, or at least cast a few preserving spells. Rhys slipped his hand from mine and stepped forward, folding his wings back so they didn't drag on the ground as he sat in an empty patch of grass.
"I'm sorry," he said, and I almost asked why he was apologizing before I realized he wasn't speaking to me, "for going so long without visiting both of you. I was— It's over now. I'm back. And I didn't come back alone. This is Feyre. She's my mate, and I kept my promise, mama. Feyre bargained and got the ring back."
Still feeling like a bit of an intruder, I took a few cautious steps forward and sat in the grass next to him. I reached a hand out, but Rhys didn't take it, just wiped at his eyes. For a long moment, everything was quiet except for the distant sound of birds and the wind blowing through the pines.
I'd never visited my own mother's grave. It had been years since I'd missed her, and if our situations had been reversed, I doubted she would have visited mine. I'd long since made my peace with it.
Perhaps my mother-in-law could have filed that void, been someone I could lean on. But all I had from her was a lesson on ruthlessness that had won me the ring in my hand.
"I wish I could have asked you for advice, on how to be Lady of Night when you're a nineteen-year-old outsider. I have the ring but…I don't know if it's enough," I said quietly. "More than anything, though, I'd like to thank you. For raising him."
A ragged noise escaped Rhys, and I reached my free hand out again. He interlaced our fingers, squeezing almost to the point of pain. I squeezed back, then turned to the other grave. "I grew up with two sisters, Nesta and Elain. But now…I suppose I have three," I said.
As one, Rhys and I got to our feet. We stood there, hand-in-hand, and for a moment, the hole where his family should have been seemed deep enough to swallow everything. It didn't matter that centuries had passed—so much was missing and irreparably broken.
But I wasn't finished, and I forced myself to keep going. I'd fulfilled a promise today, but I had a new oath to swear. "The male who got you killed ripped me from my family and manipulated me for his own ends. If Rhys and I hadn't found each other…my blood would have been on Tamlin's hands, too. I won't allow him to endanger a Night Court female again."
We lingered in silence a bit longer, then left two stones behind on each grave. Rhys winnowed us to the living room of the townhouse. There was more to do—Amren would no doubt want to be informed about what I'd sensed in the Weaver's cottage, and I wanted to change out of my leathers first.
But I couldn't keep holding onto the ring forever. I uncurled my fingers, holding it out to him. "Do you…want it back?"
"It's yours," he said, as if that settled it.
I didn't have the nerve to slip the ring on, even after shedding blood to get it. Not even here, in the privacy of our own home. I'd never questioned the mating bond—how could I when it was the strongest thing I'd ever known? But this was different.
The bond belonged to the two of us. Wearing a family ring was a public declaration.
Rhys cocked his head, studying me again. I was still too caught up in my own thoughts to move. For a moment, I expected a familiar caress of talons against my shields, but it never came.
No, Rhys just plucked the ring from my hand and dropped down to one knee. "Feyre—"
My heart hammered in my chest, and I nearly bolted upstairs. But I couldn't run from him without a word—not again and certainly not like this.
"Don't," I choked out. Rhys went utterly still, forcing his expression into something blank and composed. My eyes stung, but I kept going before I made this worse than it already was. "You wouldn't marry me if I were a faerie."
He blinked. "Of course I—"
"You wouldn't. Because marriage is a silly, pointless formality when there's already an unbreakable thread binding our souls together. But I…" My throat bobbed. "Please don't start treating me differently because I'm human."
In Spring, I'd been something to be gawked at, addressed as "human" instead of my name. I'd felt small and stupid and useless, and I would not let anyone do that to me again, not even if they meant well, like he did.
And especially not in the Night Court, where I belonged.
Rhys stood and wiped away the tears that were now streaming down my cheeks. I let the soft brush of his calloused hands settle me as his wings nudged me closer and encircled us both.
"I'm sorry. You looked so unsure just now, and I… I needed you to know I'd choose you in every way possible."
A surprised—if still a bit teary—laugh bubbled out of me. I leaned against him, resting my head on his shoulder. "I know you would. Sometimes what we feel for each other is the only thing I think I'm sure of."
I felt the tension melt from his body. With a stab of guilt, I wondered if running off to the House of Wind on our first night back had left him with doubts that ran deeper than I'd originally thought. But I let it go—it was hard to keep dwelling on the past when he was letting out a contented hum and kissing the top of my head.
I let myself savor the peace for a few heartbeats, but I couldn't ignore the way he'd only wrapped one arm around me. The other still held the ring.
"For what it's worth, I do want to wear it," I whispered. "I know I can't, at least for now, but if things were different, I would. Every day."
Rhys stepped back and smiled, taking my left hand in his, cradling it as if it were something delicate—not calloused in odd places from holding a bow, with crescents of dirt and blood under my ragged nails. The glamour fell away, revealing the swirling lines of the half-finished tattoo.
He slid the ring onto my finger. I'd thought it might look wrong there, but the ring was Illyrian and my hands were rough like a warrior's. The fit was perfect, and it sat in a gap that had been left between the whorls of my tattoo.
Like it was always meant to be there.
The intensity of emotions rippling across his face was so strong I nearly had to look away. Love, reverent adoration…and that purely male, possessive gleam in his star-flecked eyes. My toes curled in my boots.
"I'm yours, mate," I whispered.
His mouth crashed into mine just the way I'd hoped it would. I parted my lips eagerly, ready to lose myself in the sweep of his tongue.
Maybe I'd never get used to how quickly I could be ready and aching for him. But the pleasure he'd wrung from me last night hadn't been enough, not after several days keeping our hands off each other in Illyria. One scrape of his teeth against my bottom lip, and I was scrabbling at the fastenings of his leathers.
I reached for him through the bond, and his shields were down in an instant. Will you wear one too, Rhys? To let everyone know you're mine?
Those last two words dragged a groan from deep in his throat. He shucked the leathers and undershirt off in one smooth movement, and I ran my hands down, down the hard planes of his muscled chest. Lower and lower, until I brushed the trail of soft hair above the waistband of his pants.
Even in our minds, I sounded breathless. Fuck me while I wear the ring and nothing else.
A flash of pain sparked and lit up the mating bond, even as his tongue plunged deeper into my mouth. I leaped back, shocked as if a bucket of ice had been thrown over us both.
Rhys was breathing hard, eyes wide and wild. He pushed me out of his mind, and his shields were firmly in place again. The walls of adamant were higher and thicker than I'd ever felt them.
"What's wrong?" I said aloud.
"I'm sorry," he breathed. Darkness fell from his shoulders in pulsing, furious waves. A few tendrils wrapped around him like a cloak, and the rest dimmed the room.
He reached for me. I stepped back again. "Rhysand. Tell me what's wrong."
For a long moment, Rhys said nothing. He pressed his eyes shut, his breathing still uneven. I waited. The darkness kept leaking into the room, and when it was pitch-black, he finally spoke.
"The ring with Jurian's eye. She never took it off. Not even when we…" he managed to say.
My heart cracked in two.
"Cauldron, Rhys, I'm so sorry. I should have realized." That ring had featured in so many of our nightmares; I'd been utterly, monumentally stupid not to think of it.
I wanted to hold him, but that seemed….unwise. It might startle him if the dark was too thick for him to see me coming closer. With his shields up, I couldn't reach down the bond and drag him back to the present like I wanted to.
His wings. He still had his wings out. "Rhys," I said, as gently as I could manage. "Go fly. Circle Velaris as many times as you need to. I'll be here when you get back."
There was a rustling noise as his wings snapped outward. Something soft brushed my cheek, and then I was alone, squinting in the too-bright sunlight when the darkness disappeared with him.
I'd ruined everything, so there was nothing to be done but change out of my leathers and wait. My heart was heavy as I sank into one of the chairs on the roof and watched the sky, hoping for a glimpse of him.
I wished I'd been the sort of person who could have just smiled and happily accepted a proposal. Or at the very least, not someone who made it worse by dredging up his nightmares unexpectedly.
Maybe we'd never get completely free from Under the Mountain.
The other end of the bond was silent, and I twisted the ring around my finger so many times I nearly rubbed the skin raw. I could just make out his dark shape against the clouds, the powerful beat of his wings as he looped and looped over the city. One day, I hoped, he'd do the same and carry me with him.
It was a while before Rhys landed on the roof. The movement was easy and graceful, the draft of wind from that massive wingspan ruffling my hair as he touched down with silent feet. He regarded me, eyes dry, standing stiff-backed in a way that seemed unnatural for him.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I said, though I knew he didn't.
He shook his head. "I just want you."
In an instant, I was on his lap on the other chair. His breath was warm against my ear as he sighed, draping both arms over my shoulders as he leaned his chest against my back. Exhaustion seemed to roll off him the way his power usually did. We said nothing, but Rhys laced our fingers together and pressed a kiss to the knuckle of my left hand, right next to the ring.
No hard feelings, then.
It was another day before we met with Amren, who made me describe everything I'd felt in the Weaver's cottage in excruciating detail. There was more research to be done, but she had a new working theory—that the Spring Court hadn't left me with any of its own magic, just reshaped the Night Court's existing claim on me.
The faint magic within me wasn't an echo—it had become a seed.
Whether it would bloom or bear fruit or something else entirely was anyone's guess. If given the opportunity, I had the sense Amren would pick me apart to find out. But it was better than going on no information at all.
A few weeks later, I landed a hit on Cassian with a wooden sword the same day I finished the first book I ever read from cover-to-cover. The days had passed as a steady rhythm of training and reading, mostly spent in the House of Wind.
Life was…quiet. Better, though not perfect. Rhys and I still depended on the sleeping draught, and the library was the only windowless place either of us could tolerate for more than an hour at a time. We chipped away at the work of catching up—me on literacy, him on the business of running the Night Court—in companionable silence on sunlit balconies or tucked away among the priestesses.
The rest days were the hardest to tolerate. Without exhaustion to settle my mind, I found myself wandering the city aimlessly, too restless to sit still. The streets of Velaris quickly became familiar.
All of it, except for the Rainbow. I hadn't gotten up the nerve to set foot in the artists' quarter. I'd skirted the edges carefully, and in truth, stared at it wistfully on more than one occasion.
I suspected that Tamlin had given me paints as a distraction, a ploy to quiet me down and soften my feelings towards him. And even if it had just been an attempt to break the curse and save his people…it hurt. Something I loved had been used against me, and I wasn't sure I could throw my whole self into painting so fearlessly ever again.
But I did finish the snowdrops lining the edges of the kitchen table. And it had felt…good. My heart squeezed at the way Rhys smiled every time he looked at them.
There were more leftover paints, so I took to hiding clever decorations in my room, just as I had in the cabin. Behind the curtains, under the dressing table, inside drawers…and nothing more than flowering vines, curls of flame, or intricate, abstract designs. Nothing with me in it.
It was all I could manage. Not a secret, but…I didn't want to be watched or talk about it.
Rhys spotted them eventually, of course. He'd been sprawled out on my bed one morning, staring at my ass as I slipped off my nightgown to get ready for the day. When I heard his sharp intake of breath behind me, I figured he'd noticed the ivy painted on the inside of the drawer I'd just opened.
I'd whirled around, ready to lob a pair of socks at his head in response to a teasing remark. Or worse, for him to be upset that I hadn't told him I'd painted.
But he'd just tilted his head, regarded me thoughtfully, and said, "That's one way to hide what's precious to you."
He'd once said something similar about his wings. And I'd supposed the same thing was true for keeping Velaris and our mating bond hidden. Those violet eyes met mine, and I felt…understood. Somehow, it wasn't terrifying.
It gave me the confidence to start leaving those little hidden designs around the rest of the townhouse. I'd started with his room, then expanded to the kitchen and the foyer. Claiming marks, if you knew where to look for them.
Similar to my mating band, which I took to wearing hidden on a chain under my shirt. Rhys did the same, after he'd offered to find a horrible creature to retrieve his from and call us even.
I wasn't quite sure what I'd do when the paints ran out, and I'd been deliberately not thinking much about it. But my walks took me past the city's outdoor sculptures and murals more often lately, and perhaps that was progress.
But it was only a matter of time before the peace was broken again. We were roused from our beds with news of another attack on a temple, this one at Sangravah.
The security measures Rhys had arranged for the priestesses left survivors this time, though not many. Once he left for the temple, I headed to the library, prepared to help with whatever the priestesses needed, just like before.
I'd expected to prepare more bodies for burial, but Mor walked in with an auburn-haired female wrapped in a blood-soaked cloak that was far too big for her.
"I healed her," Mor said, "but she needs someone to help her get settled."
I agreed to handle it, and the priestess turned at the sound of my voice. Her teal eyes were distant—haunted, really. More blood, hers or someone else's, had spattered on her face.
Clearing the mess away with magic wouldn't be enough for her to feel clean after whatever ordeal she'd just gone through—I knew that after everything Under the Mountain. I fetched a washcloth and basin and helped her clean off.
She didn't speak. And perhaps that was for the best—I had no idea what I would have said anyway. Later that night, I learned from another priestess that her name was Gwyneth Berdara and Hybern had slaughtered her twin sister during the attack.
As Catrin Berdara's name was read during the funeral service a few hours later, I decided it was finally time to stop avoiding my own sisters. Mortal lives were short, and in a hundred years, I'd regret not making the most of the time I had with them.
Even if I couldn't find the words to tell Nesta and Elain all the ways my life had changed since coming to Prythian, I'd go to the mortal lands tomorrow.
#feysand#feyre archeron#we said hello and your eyes look like coming home#sorry not sorry about how this proposal shakes out guys
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I LOVE YOU MAX MAYFIELD I LOVE YOU LUCAS SINCLAIR I LOVE YOU LUMAX 😭😭😭😭
#reading runaway max has me baffling my eyes out i always loved this girl but the things this book add into her character is just 😭😭😭#I don't even care if it isn't counted as canon i love her and i love them#runaway max#lumax#max mayfield#lucas sinclair#lucas x max
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Crawl Out Through the Fallout with Me: Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard X Fem! Reader
A/N: never played an official fallout game in my life but i still love this man so it's time to bullshit some stuff, let's gooooooo
Word Count: 1.1k
Summary: After a fight with raiders, a argument between lovers ensues when one of them gets hurt.
Warnings: typical fallout vibes, mentions of fighting, blood and wounds, pre-established relationship, Cooper being Cooper but also being a bit ooc, this is cheesy as hell and def not canon compliant lmao
"Damnit, (Y/n), just what the hell were you thinkin'?!"
An upset voice rang out into the evening air of the Wasteland as a pair of figures rested up inside the crumbling walls of an abandoned building.
Lit by the fading light of the sun, (Y/n) hissed in pain as her irradiated companion tried to sew a sizable gunshot wound on her arm shut.
As he passed the needle back and forth through the gash, the girl rolled her eyes with an exasperated groan as a few rivulets of blood rolled down her arm.
"Gimme a break, Coop! Did you wanna be the one to be shot?! I don't- ow!- think so!"
During a journey to find their next cash-out, the partners were ambushed by a large group of raiders & fiends. After managing to get rid of most of them, one had managed to sneak up and send a bullet flying straight for Cooper.
Noticing the weapon before Cooper could even turn to see the shooter, (Y/n) dashed over and shoved the ghoul out of the path of the shot, causing her arm to be hit instead.
Now- a few hours after killing the remaining enemies- they took shelter in a decrepit shack in order to patch themselves up in peace and rest for the night.
"I'd still be better off than you are right now. I mean, for fucks sake, darlin', I'm a ghoul. I've been through worse than just being shot at."
"Well then, that's the last time I try to be helpful. Next time, I'll sit back and relax while you get absolutely slaughtered by raiders, how about that?!"
"Go right on ahead, see if I care! Now, hold still. Can't close this cut if you keep on squirmin' around." Cooper huffed as he gave the suture one final tug before snipping the end off with a pocket knife and tying it into a knot.
After he was finished, (Y/n) rolled the pain out of her bicep before reaching into her bag to grab a somewhat clean cloth to wipe up any remaining blood.
With a sputter of her lips, she got up from her spot next to Cooper to sit upon the old mattress in the other corner of the room in order to apply a stimpak to herself. It wouldn't be enough to heal the wound completely but it would be enough for her to be able to use her arm properly.
Satisfied with the sight of her flesh knitting back together, Cooper finally relaxed in his chair as he crossed one leg over the other.
"Now don't go doin' anything that stupid again, y' hear me? Don't wanna have to use any more stims than we have to."
"I just... don't understand why you're so worked up about this. Something like this was bound to happen eventually, it's literally a warzone out here. A scar or two isn't unusual." (Y/n) griped as she fell back onto the bed while crossing her arms.
"Yeah, for someone like me it isn't. But it shouldn't ever happen someone like you. You shouldn't have to get hurt like that..." Grumbled Cooper as he leaned back against the wall.
"I'm not made of glass, Coop, I can handle a few hits."
"Don't care. You're way too valuable for me to lose."
(Y/n)'s glare softened at that, realizing the true intention behind the cowboy's scolding was worry. As Cooper sets up a small lantern on the floor to combat the growing darkness, (Y/n) watches the man with a fondness gleaming in her eyes.
"Is that what this is all about? You didn't wanna see me get hurt?" Whispers the girl as she turns onto her side.
Although the action is rather subtle, the ghoul's body visibly tenses up as he fixes his gaze away from the woman across from him.
"I never said that."
"It's clear that you thought it, though." (Y/n) chuckled as she softly grinned at the cowboy.
Heaving out an irritated sigh, Cooper hunches over to look at her as he readjusts his hat.
"What do ya wanna hear from me, sweetheart? That I care about you? That I love ya? Well, if you don't know that by now, then you might be much dumber than I thought you were."
"Hey, I resent that! You'd be lost with me and you know it!"
"Sure I would. Just like how you'd do great out there if you were all alone."
(Y/n) shakes her head with a scoff before she gets up from the mattress to walk over plop herself onto Cooper's lap after he sits back down on the beat-up dinner chair.
As she shuffles into place, Cooper places his hand on the small of her back to ensure she doesn't topple over. He silently glances at her face, analyzing her now troubled expression as she fiddles with the lapel on his duster.
Mouth opening and closing as she tries to find the words to say, she presses her lips together before finally speaking her thoughts.
"Y'know, I worry about you too... I'm always so worried that there's gonna be a day where that one gunner you miss is gonna be the one that gets you." (Y/n) admits sadly as she rests her head on Cooper's shoulder.
Cooper's eyes widen slightly and peer down at her as he begins to rub a hand up and down her arm in an attempt to comfort her.
"Hey now, look at me. That'll never happen. Not on my watch."
"What makes you so sure?"
"I got too much to fight for. I already lost one family to this nonsense and I'll be damned if you get taken away from me too. I'll fight tooth and nail before I let anything touch me or you again, understand?"
"But why? What's so special about me?"
"If I allow you to get hurt anymore, I will never be able to live with myself again. I love you, so...so much, darlin'." Cooper states with a resolute nod.
(Y/n) eyes water and crinkle with a gentle smile before she leans up to place a couple light kisses upon his charred lips, which he returns immediately upon receiving.
"I love you too, Cooper..." Mutters (Y/n) as she closes her arm around his shoulders.
With a laugh rumbling in his chest, Cooper wraps both of his hands around her waist as he holds her as close as he can.
"Your sweetness is what's gonna be the death of me one of these days, doll... Not some dumbass bullet." Cooper jokes quietly, placing a kiss atop her hair & resting his head on hers as he rocks back and forth to lull her to sleep.
Listening to the calming sound of her breathing as she slumbers, Cooper thinks about how lucky a man like him is to have found a love like (Y/n) in such a desolate situation.
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i've got headaches and bad luck but they couldn't touch you
[not my gif. title from song Of All the Gin Joints in All the World]
pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)
rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)
word count: 4.6k
requested: Could you write something (literally anything really) like mean Joel x feisty Reader but based on the ancient Fall Out Boys song "Of All the Gin Joints in All the World" pretty please? 🥺🥹 I was just listening and I thought the lyrics were perfect for your writing ❤️But as always no pressure and no problem at all if you don't like the idea or anything else. Lots of love! P.S. smut is very welcome btw hihihi
summary: “Joel's not one for feelings anymore, but you seem to pull them out of him like it's your goddamn job."
warnings: established previous hookups, use of girl/babygirl, established age gap (unspecified but addressed openly), brief mention of oral m!receiving, brief mention of reader and joel’s canon-typical scars. choking, mean!Joel & brat tamer!Joel, brat!reader lol, dirty talk (its joel), degradation, use of the word slut, slight dumbification, spitting, rough sex, unprotected PiV, cum eating, nipple play, slapping (tits, ass). think that's it!
notes: okay finally another mean!Joel for the soul!!! this is super unedited also. tysm for the request, obv inspired by the song Of All The Gin Joints in All the World by FOB. :) this was fun and i hope yall love it! dont b afraid to request anything yall wanna read at all and as always pls comment or reblog :) love u xoxo
[other Joel fics: mr. miller series fever landmines ]
★
Joel Miller isn't sure exactly when all this bullshit started.
one day, he was introduced to you fleetingly in the cafeteria while you and Maria had an intense conversation - he’s not sure if you spoke for more than ten seconds; but months later and Joel happens to know exactly what your sweaty skin tastes like on the sharpness of his tongue and could probably list his favorite pairs of underwear you own.
it's nothing, really.
you patrol together often, and Joel guesses that out of all the insufferable people he's had to deal with, you're definitely not the worst. perhaps your handiness with a trigger - not nearly as inept as his own but definitely a close second - helps; or maybe it's the way your mouth feels wrapped around his cock.
and he's not stupid; he knows exactly what Tommy was doing when he signed Joel with you for patrol - the same shit he'd been pulling since they were thirty years younger and Joel was fresh out of the relationship with Sarah's mom. but it's different now, because life is not the same - nothing is the same.
Joel's not one for feelings anymore, but you seem to pull them out of him like it's your goddamn job.
you are one talkative motherfucker; usually, that'd drive Joel up a wall, but after repeated and incessant exposure to Ellie for such an extended period, his patience has surprisingly grown.
and unlike others, you never acted nervous or scared by him. irritated, maybe, but it's not like he cares much if you get irritated by his attitude; you're worse than he can be.
at first, he thought you were just fucking him because you just didn't know who he really was yet. but months into whatever this shit is, and you're still - for whatever fucking reason - hanging around him, even after everything. he likes it, though, that you fight fire with fire.
and maybe that's why Tommy stuck you two together, because in some ways it was inevitable - maybe it was a good thing, Joel thinks.
but this morning, as Joel's mind slams against his body, jolting him awake, his aching head makes him double-guess that.
it's weird how different it all is now - before you, Joel was tortured through nights plagued with sweats and memories. blood, pain, loss. he used to dream restlessly of life and all of its unforgiving horrors; but now, to his shock, he finds himself plagued with dreams of you.
he gasps awake - he's not sure he'll ever stop that.
but this time, you're next to him in the bed. his skin feels warm as the light filters through the blinds that stay constantly pulled down this time of year to retain the cool air and Joel lets out a shuttered sigh, his head aching.
it's only the second time you've stayed the night. he's never stayed at yours, god forbid - but a small part of him aches this morning when you slide out of his heavy, sleep-addled muscles. in the absence of your heat there is still bliss for a moment, until he's roused fully by your voice.
"these sheets are dirty." the sound carries into his ears, melodic and fiery. he cracks one eye open, hand raising to rub over his face - a deep, tired sigh.
"g'mornin' to you too." he snarks, sighing as he pulls himself on aching muscles to blink his eyes open; you stand over the bed, on the side that usually remains cold an empty while Joel thrashes in fits of restless sleep. there's not a single scrap of clothing on your body.
he feels himself stir at the sight of you, naked, neck painted in a splattering of beautiful marks that'd been pulled forth in moments of ecstasy the night before.
you send him a half smirk, shrugging as you tug on a shirt - his, fuck, his stomach swirls at the sight of you wrapped in him. something primal crawls in his chest as you smile at him, legs almost glowing in their bareness as they knock against the side of the mattress. your fingers brush the fabric to the left of his head.
"there's stains on the pillows." you shake your head, your face alluring in its tease. he feels himself roll his eyes as he grunts, "you're actin' like it ain't your makeup stainin' it?"
he stares at the marks on the pillowcase; black, from that shit you sometimes put on your eyes which just makes them all the more beautiful, wide, and alluring. the makeup that's surely expired after all this time but still is something you like to do to, as you'd mentioned once, 'reclaim your humanity.' whatever.
Joel would never admit it to you, but he hadn't even really tried to wash out those stains; something about them gives him a warmth in his chest every morning that he wakes up in this cold bed.
but when his eyes fall back to you in your silence, you smirk and it hits him: you're fucking teasing him.
he glares at you as your lips curl in a huff of a laugh, shaking your head. "if you keep complainin' about every damn thing, might as well just fuck you on the floor." he mutters, mostly to himself- but also to see the way your thighs shift, eyes widening slightly as color washes your cheeks. you're squirming at his words, just like that - oh, he's got you pinned.
you'd like that, you dirty little thing.
but you regain your composure quicker than lightning, ready to snap back; yet another tally to add on the list of things he admires about you.
"you're such a gentleman, Miller." you snide, fanning yourself sardonically with one hand as you roll your eyes, searching for your underwear.
he remembers the first time you'd said that to him -
"why so shy?" you'd purred.
the memory of your voice curls around his ears as he huffs, watching you bend over and give him a complete view of your ass as you fetch your panties from the floor.
"c'mon, Joel, you don't need to be such a gentleman. 's nothing you haven't seen before." you'd stripped yourself of your shirt, your pert nipples pebbling in the cold breeze as he'd sat, cleaning his rifle. "the hell's the matter with you?" he'd grumbled; but it didn't stop either of you. you'd been pressed between him and the splitting backseat of the broken down crashed car within seconds, anyways.
his eyes meet yours as you stand again.
he snarks, "well you’re givin' me a headache, an' I've only been up for two minutes." he glares at you, swinging to pull his boxers over his hips, standing up to find his shirt. he pointedly ignores the glare you send him at his grumpiness.
"you're the one acting dumb," you mutter, "acting like I'm the one who gives you headaches." you retort, a teasing glint in your eye; he knows that look. Joel knows you'd never get a headache from him - as much as he pisses you off, he knows you're too fiery, too lucky to get caught up in whatever miserable puddle he's drowning in.
because Joel's bad luck curls around his fists wherever he goes; the talons reaching out, crawling through every hallway and seeping through every door. you, on the other hand, are like a goddamn firecracker. Joel hates the idea, but you're... somehow gifted in that way.
he's convinced his bad luck couldn't touch you if it tried.
no matter the dumb shit you pull - forgetting a flashlight, not flipping off your safety that one moment when the clicker had stumbled out of the brush; all of that, and you escape unscathed, nothing but a giggle and a half-shrug from you before you move on to the next stupid thing.
if you weren't such a goddamn brat, it'd be charming.
his eyes snap to yours as your words fall from your lips; a burning in his chest at your tone. he watches your legs carry you into his bathroom, and he can't help it when his follow yours.
you haven't even flipped on the lights before he shuts the door behind him - you're already wearing that snarky fucking smile on your face, and he's straining already against his boxers.
he stares down at you, crowding you slowly into the wall. "what the fuck did you just say to me?" he hisses, mouth close to yours. as you turn your chin up towards his face, he can tell that you try your hardest to control your smirk, playing into the tense energy that's emanating from his chest.
"I said you're acting dumb."
you repeat, tilting your head slightly as you drink in the darkness in his eyes. lord, you'd let that darkness swallow you in a fucking heartbeat.
speaking of; your own heartbeat thunders in your chest, anticipating. you know what's coming, you can nearly taste it on your tongue.
"oh, 's that right?" Joel asks, tilting his head to stare down at you. you swallow as you stare back into those deep irises, the small bit of golden light that shines through the small bathroom window illuminating in an ominously heavenly ray.
his hand settles on the crook of your shoulder and neck, sliding gently upwards as you nod your head defiantly, pushing as far as you can to see when he'll snap. his eyes glisten in temptation; daring you to act up more.
raising your brows, you try to play like it's obvious, "waking up and complaining about your headaches, old man?" you tut gently, shaking your head innocently. "I don't think it's my fault that you fucked me twice, immediately passed out and now your head hurts when you've woken up the next morning. you know better than to push yourself in your old age, Joel. that's stupid." you add coyly, knowing it'll push him over the edge - he loves it when you act like a brat, no matter how much he denies it.
his response is immediate and exactly what you'd hoped for.
he's on you in a split second - hand sliding from your shoulder to grip your throat, pushing you back onto the wall of the bathroom. the towel bar digs into your middle-back slightly and you gasp in arousal at the force of his body on yours. you can feel his cock, hard and straining in his boxers, as it presses into your lower stomach.
"y'wanna play like that, baby?" he growls, "why you fuckin' around with an old man like me, then?" he asks.
your face heats up, arousal flooding your core, your cunt slowly wetting itself at the purr of his voice - the meaner the words, the larger the flame.
"hm?" he gently pushes, raising his brows as his hand squeezes gently on your throat, nudging you against the wall further; your gasp is slightly rasped under the pressure, your whole body screaming with desire. this is what you love - mean, angry, hungry Joel Miller. "'s it because nobody fucks you like I do, is that it?"
his knee slides between yours, wedging himself high up, rubbing suddenly against your aching pussy, the material of your cotton already soaked with a damp spot that rubs against his thick thigh.
"Joel, fuck-" you groan, already willing to just do what you can to get him to touch you. his hand on your throat tightens at your word, thigh rutting up to slide against your needy clit, your hips bucking at the feeling. "-'s because nobody else is so easy." your fiery mouth betrays your body; the snarky comment snaps his eyes to yours, a dark breath leaving his lips.
"that's ironic," he snaps, "comin' from someone who begged me to fuck them for hours."
your face burns at the memory of the first time you and Joel'd hooked up; your desperate voice hoarse from pleading him to fuck you - out in the middle of the woods, a sleeping bag that, by the end, had rips on it from rocks and twigs and the force of his thrusts; the shyness gone from either of you as your touches made up for all the silence between you.
he hums lowly, watching you as you swallow at the memory, his thigh rutting up again and pulling a yelp of pleasure from your lips. "y'don't feel so high 'n mighty when I fuck you stupid, right baby?" he asks, voice dripping with condescendence as he nods gently, encouraging you to answer him. your core throbs at his words, your mouth going dry.
his hand leaves your throat; you swallow a gulp of air, staring with wide eyes as he grasps your jaw roughly. "answer me."
"n-no, I don't." you mutter, voice sounding small; the arousal that pulses through your veins begs your mouth to be smart, do what Joel says so he'll give in to what you want.
he smirks, hands roughly grabbing the thick of your hips and flipping you around to press you against the counter, your hips bending as he shoves himself just behind you. your eyes meet yourself and his own hawkish gaze in the mirror in front of you; your heated breath fogs up the mirror in the faint morning light.
his fingers thread through your hair, tugging you back again as he tilts your head back. his upside down face, smirking down at you, has your thighs clenching - "open." he orders, voice stern.
your tongue sticks out and he wastes no time spitting roughly onto your tongue, moving your head back to stare into the mirror; his eyes meet yours as his spit slides over your tongue and his furrowed brows twitch with a slight smirk. "look at you, doin' what I tell you. now swallow it and say thank you."
your core flutters at his words deliciously as you do as you're told; swallowing, you take a breath and mutter, "thank you," - though it's more breathless than you expected, Joel seems to approve. he hums, "there are those manners," he mutters into your ear, cock pressing against the swell of your ass. "almost seemed like you'd forgotten you had them."
"didn't forget." you mutter, face heating up as your pussy aches, fluttering around nothing and desiring for his fingers, his cock - anything.
one rough palm slides his shirt up your torso, exposing your bare tits to both of you through the mirror. with his face stooped down near your neck, a short inhale of your hair before his hand reaches it's destination - your throat.
"then why're you actin' up?" he rasps, teeth grazing your shoulder. he squeezes his hand again and your eyes roll back in pleasure, arousal soon slicking your thighs as you think you may die from all the teasing. "you don't wanna cum?"
your eyes widen, breath halting as you shake your head, "wh- no- no!" you hiss, "I do want to cum, please."
his other hand raises, slapping your breast harsh and quick; your gasp of shock tapers off into a whine of pleasure, your nipples hard in arousal as his palm comes to soothe over the sting.
"then why're you acting like this?" he asks again, shaking his head. another slap, this time to your other breast. his eyes follow the skin of your chest; the way you gasp, your whines at the slight stinging and the pleasure that follows. fingers pinch your nipples, teasing in circles before another sharp slap echoes through the room. "just a little brat, y'can't help yourself." he decides, biting on your neck lightly.
you can feel him rut against you hard, grinding his hips as he lets out a short groan. you let out a low moan, whining slightly when he smacks your tits again, skin glowing with the impact. his eyes meet yours in the mirror. "quit the whinin'," he grunts, rutting his hard cock against your ass, "you'll be stuffed full of me soon enough." he grunts, "then we'll see who's dumb."
your shaky moan sounds more like a groan, elbows falling to steady yourself as Joel releases your throat, tossing you forward to grab your hips instead. he pulls you back, grinding into you as his head tilts back in how own small groan of pleasure. "this ass." Joel grunts to himself as he palms the curve of your ass in both large hands, one falling to smack harsh onto the left.
you're dripping down the inside of your thighs as he ruts against you twice more; thick fingers soon slide to thumb at the slick wet of your panties. his fingers tease the wet material that's glued to your pussy with need, tracing over your lips lightly over the fabric. "pretty pussy, just for me." he mutters; you nod, looking up at him through the mirror, "all for you, Joel." you affirm, voice shaking with anticipation.
"you gonna be good when I fill you up, baby?" he lifts his brow, stern look as he palms himself. fuck, he's so sexy behind you like this, his thumb slowly dragging the material of your panties to the side and exposing your weeping cunt; you nod, "yes, I'll do anything-"
you're cut off by a sharp gasp as the stretch of his cock's head cuts off your brain. he eases in gently at first which you're more than grateful for - no matter how many times Joel fucks you, his size is always something you have to adjust to; especially after your rounds last night left you barely able to walk straight.
he lets out a breath, "there y'go, baby, take me." he says it surprisingly gently, easing in inch by inch as you breathe deeply, your soaked pussy easing his cock through your channels. his cock is heavy and aching as he slides into you, sheathing you fully within another few seconds - Joel's hands grip so hard on your ass, splaying you open for him, that you think his fingers will remain there for days.
he's still only for a moment, letting you accommodate to his size before he's leaning forward to press his chest to your back, "gonna fuck you stupid, baby."
"please, Joel," you groan, cunt fluttering, begging him to move. "do it."
it's all that he needs before he's setting a pace that has you whining under him, your breath choking as you brace yourself agains the counter of the sink.
it's bliss. his hips are sharp, the reach of his cock pressing against the spongy spot inside you, dragging against your pulsing walls. "fuck, so deep-" you hiss, eyes closing in pleasure as he presses himself against you, hips surely going to bruise against the thrusts that shove you into the countertop.
one hand sneaks over your front, grasping at your tits as his cock reaches up into you deeply. he lets out a grunt, "fuckin'- christ, you're s-so tight," he grunts, "even after fuckin' you all night."
you moan, the quick bout of his praise causing you to squeeze around him, trapping him in your aching desire. the both of you moan at the feeling and suddenly one hand presses on your spine until you're low to the counter. his hands grab your shoulders, fingers curling around the base of your throat as he changes his pace to hard and rough, the sound of your ass against his hips nearly hitting your ears over your cries of pleasure.
the noises of your arousal swallowing his cock echo around the room in a familiar, comforting chorus as you both let out shuttering moans; his strong arms pull you back until you're once again pressed against his broad chest. his breath fans over your neck and you whine slightly when his thrusts press you up onto your tip-toes. his lips find your ear, "how's that feel?" your hole flutters from the deepness in his voice - he groans at the feeling.
your response is a whine of ecstasy as you claw at his forearms, head tilting back until you can almost feel his erratic heartbeat. his chest rumbles with a light chuckle, "look, barely took ya any time to get fucked out on my cock," he praises, hand petting your wild hair, "knew you'd be good for me. always take what I give you, right?"
you nod, desperate to reach the climax that's easily built within you from the stretch of him deep in you and his voice in your ear. your clit aches from being ignored and your hand snakes down to rub light circles on it; your hips jolt as you gasp raggedly, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure.
"no." he growls, hand grabbing your jaw sternly as he pounds into you, "when I'm fuckin' you, you keep your eyes on me." he snaps, squeezing your cheeks. "'s that clear?"
you nod in the mirror, whines getting louder as his name falls nearly incoherently from your lips- you see his lips ghost over your neck, the smirk that spreads over his pink lips as you finally get out a strangled, "Joelpleaseplease- s'close-"
he knows what you need; you and Joel are each other's best escape. he pistons into you hard, chasing your high as he feels it spasming close around him. "easy, huh?" he snarls, hips just as harsh as his words, eyes sharp on yours. "who's easy, baby - me, or the one beggin' like a slut to cum on my cock?"
for someone so quiet and closed off, Joel Miller has never shied away from using his goddamn words when he's fucking you, that's for sure. his words, his accent - they push you towards the edge and it almost distracts you from his question. his eyebrows raise in the silence as you gasp for words, moans choked as his fingers slide down from your jaw to squeeze your throat.
"look at'cha, can't even speak for me," he groans, his hand suddenly snaking down to smack your away from your clit; two larger, calloused fingers replace your shaky ones and you wail at the stimulation, almost too much.
you blink up at him through the mirror, unable to speak, unable to think as you feel the crest of something incredibly blissful growing; you let out a whine of ecstasy. "I'm- I'm easy," you concede, finally able to spit your words out, your voice higher than normal in your pleasure.
Joel nods, kissing your sweaty hairline, "'s goddamn right you are, babygirl," he hisses, "easy for me. this pretty little pussy is mine, isn't it?"
you scream, "yours, Joel-" before he barely finishes the sentence.
with your words, he smiles against your neck - the feeling of it sends goosebumps over your whole torso. "you're a lucky girl," he growls in your ear, teeth brushing the shell before licking it gently, "you can cum."
you barely realize you've hit your orgasm until you’re writhing - a white-hot, searing arousal streaking your vision as your eyes roll back. he fucks you steadily through your orgasm, your thighs closing slightly around his large palm, but his fingers don't stop their motions on your clit.
you shake and stutter for gasps as he pounds into you, chasing his own high that's been spurred - by your own words or the clenching of your orgasm around him, you're unsure.
"love how you feel-" he groans, voice weakening as he nears his own orgasm, hips sloppy as he pushes your face down, against the cool tile of the bathroom sink. "fuck, baby, made to take this cock."
his sentences are choppy, his gasps and grunts of pleasure mixing with the slap of your ass against him as he thrusts, your legs tired as he fills you full and then suddenly pulls out. you gasp at the suddenness of his absence, turning to look at him as if betrayed - but he looks completely gone, eyes dark with need. "gonna cum on your tits, sweetheart."
your stomach flips at the word - one he's never used before - and you relax into his harsh grip, moving down to the ground on your knees as he grunts, "take this shit off now."
his shirt is on the ground in half a second, your breasts bare to him as he fists his cock, eyes on you and lidded with pleasure. your hands fall onto his strong thighs, looking up at him in awe as he fists his cock, slick with your sticky spend, tip flushed and veins stretching over the shaft. "please, cum on me, want it so bad, Joel," you whine - his hand caresses your jaw and slips over your lips, sticking his thumb into your mouth. you suck eagerly and he moans your name deep, head tilting back in ecstasy.
"fuck," he grunts, slipping his thumb out of your mouth before you can even swirl your tongue around it, and then he's hitting his orgasm.
ropes of his cum land on your tits, a small bit gathering on your chin as he slows his hand, letting out a few sharp breaths. he's barely caught his breath before your fingers are gathering a swipe of his thick cum, bringing it to your mouth. his dark eyes follow you through his labored breaths as you slowly suck his spend off of your fingers, "fuckin'- pretty," he mumbles into his hand as he runs a palm over his face, shaking his head.
you smile, cheeks heating up. the sun is rising and the room is fully golden, bouncing off the mirror and illuminating his tan skin, the scars on his body and yours. he's pretty, you realize.
you tell him so, quietly - in the silence of the bathroom. his scowl softens and you swear you see a blush forming as he rolls his eyes down at you from where you perch on the linoleum.
Joel always says you only tell him sweet things to get him to fuck you - but in the afterglow of your actions, you catch sight of your makeup-stained pillowcase back in Joel's bedroom and it makes you grin. you know he doesn't wash it for a reason, the same reason you keep coming back to him.
and you also know that the way he smooths his thumb over your hairline, the way your own hands in turn soothe over his thighs - those actions, they make up for everything else that's unspoken.
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taglist: @satansgoatt @elissaaa @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @onmytallesttiptoess @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspasms @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @casssiopeia @wannab-urs @redhotkitchen @joelapologist2001 @silkiers
message me if i forgot to tag u. i was pretty lazy with this one sorry. requests are open.
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#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller smut#joel tlou smut#joel x reader smut#joel x reader#joel smut#joel tlou#tlou fanfiction#tlou spoilers#tlou hbo#the last of us smut#the last of us (tv)#the last of us x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x reader
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The main cast of Hazbin hotel on Valentine's day
I know I may be a little late. I had to do some shopping today and hadn't had the motivation or time to get down and write until now! I apologize is some characters are given more writing than others... the truth is that I am bised for some characters or simply have more for them. :C
Regardless I hope you enjoy these, I likely won't do these large posts very often.
CHARLIE:
I hope you can forgive me for being a little short on Charlie's part, I had stated earlier what she would do for the holiday in an alphabet post! But to recap she makes you a mixtape with songs dedicated to you, songs made by her and songs she knows you like! The case is handmade too, covered in hearts as well as having a hand written note inside further expressing her affections for you. She would also give you some of your favorite candies! Expect to go out and do something fun and romantic too!
VAGGIE:
Much lower compared to her canon partner, Vaggie is not much of an enjoyer of the holiday. She keeps her thoughts to it to herself, though sometimes you might find her grumbling about all the pink and the red. She just doesn't enjoy the aesthetic all that much. However despite that she will still participate if she knows it will make her significant other happy! She would get you something small, like a stuffed animal and some flowers.
ANGEL DUST:
Respectfully stealing this idea from my mutual, but he already gets so many gifts and cards from his crazed horny fans. He hardly has the room for any more! Though.. he probably sells a lot of it for some extra cash, only keeping some of the candies. If you get him something, he probably wouldn't sell it. He's actually touched. In terms of what he does for you, he might treat you to a night full of him... in more ways than one if you're open to it. If you don't feel like going out he's fine with staying inside and watching some movies in his rooms... perhaps it's a deserved break after a rough day during the love season.
ALASTOR:
Similar to Vaggie, Alastor wouldn't do much. He understands the purpose of the holiday, but he simply. Does not care for it all that much. However I do rather enjoy the though of Alastor sending letters to his friends (Mimzy, Rosie, Niffty, ect). He even puts them in fancy envelopes and seals them with wax. How nice is that? If he can, he might even send a box of chocolates. Fingers, in Rosie's case. However, he doesn't do much to celebrate outside of that. That's assuming he sends anything at all, anyway.
SIR PENTIOUS:
He would go all out. He might even make a machine dedicated to you and gift it. He makes a mechanical heart that beats and gives it to you. He gives you all of the candy he can get his hands on, not exactly sure what you prefer. He takes you out for the night, to the nicest restaurant he can go to without getting jumped (because let's be honest... his days of trying to pick fights and climb to power has probably landed him with some enemies...). He's a total gentleman on the date, opening the door for you and pushing in your chair for you. Considering he's a little flustered that he is on a date with you, everything goes smoothly.
HUSKER:
He likes to stay in, but you can count that if you manage to get him to go out it's going to be a to a club or bar. Anywhere with alcohol. He'd much rather prefer a bar, since it's usually... lower in energy. He also isn't much of a Valentine's person, and he does show his disdain. He does tone down on talking negatively about the day around you, so there's that at least. A simple night in with an affirmation of love is enough for Husk.
NIFFTY:
She bakes you something and perhaps sews you something. A red throw pillow in the shape of a heart. Though you may have to tell her that's what you want because otherwise she's going to try something akin to the roach crown.... shivers... The baked goods are actually pretty good, and you'll be snacking on them for the rest of the week due to Niffty getting too excited and making too many. She will stab someone with a needle if they try to take one without asking you first.
LUCIFER:
He also goes all out, it might actually be a little overwhelming! He can conjure nearly anything he can think of, if his song was being literal! He wants to make sure you're loved, and that there's no possible way that you would ever think otherwise. Despite this he might rather stay inside, or maybe alter the home to look more fancy to make a mock dinner. Generally very sweet and you will be drowning in gifts from the second you wake up to the minute you go to sleep. He also makes you breakfast in bed.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin imagine#hazbin x reader#hazbin x you#charlie morningstar x reader#vaggie x reader#angel dust x reader#alastor x reader#sir pentious x reader#niffty x reader#husk x reader#husker x reader#lucifer x reader
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I have had this thought running around all week. What if reader was sejanus’s girlfriend but Coryo was in love with her, so when he returns to the Capitol after everything in district 12 and the reader is upset that her boyfriend had died and been labelled a rebel, he’s there to comfort her and later married her.
I realised that there’s a few gaps in this but I don’t even care cause I’m so obsessed with the thought! Love you!!💗
I debated on answering this bc this is a fairly common "trope" in the corio x reader space, but I decided to see if I could do something a bit different with it, I hope you like it & I love u too!!
(TYPICAL CORYO WARNINGS Y'ALL)
In my head, canon era Coryo would be a lot more confused by being able to feel anything romantic for anyone. It's not like you're a childhood friend of his, or a new transfer from a district family that won the gamble and made it big, no. You're just one of the many middle tier capitol families who while never being on the same level as others, they also had less to lose. It would make something in his gut simmer, if your family was any more significant than a fly hovering around a rotting corpse. You are not the asset that Sejanus is.
But he hates seeing you link arms with Sejanus as you walk out of class together. He loathes the sight of you two splitting a cookie and feeding it too each other like it might as well be your wedding cake. It isn't until Coriolanus "happens" to be wandering through the academy corridors after hours, that his mind catches up with his cock. It's useless to count how many times he's rubbed his cock raw to the memory of your panty covered crotch under your skirt (you don't wear them constantly so you're a bit stupid about remembering to be careful).
Your moans, which he's already heard through the walls of your apartment when he couldn't resist the urge to see you, tip him off. He ducks around a nearby corner and peeks out to see you and Sejanus locking lips. What's worse, is that he can see that your pants are pooled around your ankles, and Sejanus is nearly throwing his back out thrusting his dick in your dripping hole. Huh. Coriolanus would've never pegged you as the sort of person to take risks like that, but you must need the added thrill to be wet enough for your boyfriend.
Coryo knows that there's nothing special about the softer moments you and he share. That the food you sneak him is given because you're a nice person and not because it kills you to see the love of your life starve. You aren't implying anything when you explain Antony and Cleopatra to him (he didn't need you too, he just wanted to have more memories of your voice and to make you feel smart). But he can't stop himself from drafting up a false reality, which he's believing is become less and less false with every touch and glance.
In the days after his return to the capitol when all is said and done, he tells himself that Sejanus had to die so he could live. That that's all it came down to, survival. Deep down, he doesn't bother kidding himself. He knows that he saw the perfect opportunity to get rid of the thing standing in between him and his happily ever after, and that you weren't very bright when it came to capitol propaganda. You might even feel inclined to be grateful once you learn about your beloved was all too willing to betray you and run off with some district songstress.
Having less to lose doesn't mean you have nothing to worry about. If anything, it makes you an easier target.
He gets a reoccurring nightmare about Sejanus having survived the hanging and biding his time in the woods of district 12 before coming back to hunt him down, to get you back. The paranoia will never fully go away.
#coriolanus snow x reader#🎧.asks#coriolanus snow x you#⚰️.deaddove#yandere themes#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader#coryo snow x reader#coryo snow#coryo snow x you#coryo smut#coriolanus smut#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus snow#coryo x you#coryo x reader#tbosas#tbosas x you#tbosas x reader#thg#thg x you#thg x reader#the hunger games x you#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games#yandere x reader#tw yandere#male yandere#yandere#yandere male
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Transcendence AU Dash Simulator GO!!!
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🌟 lesbianstellaconifer Follow
okay but actually block me if you ship mizcor -- 'hurr durr but we age stella up' -- SHUT UPPP she's literally a minor and alcor's canonically over a million years old so how about you stop being a freak
🎩 woodsmans-left-nipple Follow
Babe I hate to break this to you but Mizcor's literally one of the most famous relationships in all of post-transcendental literature
🌟 lesbianstellaconifer Follow
I could not have more obviously been talking about Mizar the Magnificent but you know what? Yeah classic Mizcor supporters can fuck off too actually.
Everybody likes to whip out Twin Souls like some kind of gotcha but have you even actually read it??? Like it's literally supporting demon worship and pedophilia -- both of which are EXTREMELY ILLEGAL btw. So yeah if I see any of my followers reblogging that shit I'm reporting you to the Occult Defense Agency idc if we're mutuals
🐟 demonologyturnedmegay Follow
*looks at my Alcorian Literature PhD* guess we better stock up on prison shivs buddy
🍃 haveyouseenmylibrary Follow
okay I'm sorry but
and Mizar the Magnificent isn't????
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📷 nature-pics-daily
Los Angeles 🏝️
#sunken city of los angeles #new california #travel #ocean #photography #lmao i almost got eaten by a kelpie trying to take this pic pls reblog it
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🧁 definitely-mizar Follow
Hey guys! Just wanted to let you know that The Scepter of Vanquished Souls, the newest book in the Wanderlust Trilogy, is now available for pre order on Glamazon!
Purchasers of the hard-cover edition will also receive never-before-seen content, including a deleted scene between Princess Samia and the Shadow King!
🤷♂️ not-not-ian-beale Follow
Boosting because I honestly cannot recommend this book enough. Truly one of Mira's best (and I'm not just saying that because she married me!)
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⚠️ alv Follow
CONGRATULATIONS!!!
You are the 6 billionth user to log into Jumblr today!! This means you are eligible to win a FREE WACBOOK PRO!!!! Click here to claim your prize and win BIG BIG REWARDS!!
#twin souls #mizar #alcor #mizcor #twin souls: reawakened #twin souls: breaking circles #twin souls: newest moon #twinner #twincon3015 #not a scam
Based on your likes!
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🌞 azarath-metrion-zinthirst Follow
So. I had a day.
📖 stanley-pines-memorial-library Follow
Okay, but consider
🌞 azarath-metrion-zinthirst Follow
I don't remember my older brother's wedding
📖 stanley-pines-memorial-library Follow
A small price to pay for no middle school trauma
🐧 selkiebael Follow
Okay so I just read the url and--
Asfdksfjk go off you funky lil intern
📖 stanley-pines-memorial-library Follow
I'm actually the senior librarian. But thanks!
🐈 alcorphabetical Follow
Posts that have 10k notes. To me
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🔮 demonoftheday Follow
Today's demon of the day is Nxlar the Antithetical! Responsible for the Florida Springs Massacre of 3007, the body count for this purveyor of madness is estimated to be over 400 (source).
🐸 that-one-half-elf-bitch
I could fix her
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🍑 lookingformygnomequeen Follow
literally screaming crying throwing up rn I've turned off 'Based on your likes' like eight times @staff can't you just get rid of him already
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🎤 rosaslittleredboots Follow
#i accidentally set my alchemy textbook on fire today and i don't even care AAAAAA this is going to be amazing #northwest mansion mystery #pacifica northwest #rosa darling #im about to be so insufferable about this just you wait
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👹 sexiestdemon3015bracket Follow
🐸 that-one-half-elf-bitch
Nxlar SWEEEEEP!!!
#if you love me at all you'll vote for my lady love #LISTEN i could bring her to the light i nkow i could
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👻 sweetthingsaremadeofdeeznuts
Lmao so Nxlar the Antithetical totally turned my apartment complex into a pile of sentient sludge yesterday. I'm fine -- I was at work when it all went down, but uh... yeah, my situation obviously just became super not-great. I hate to ask, but I don't get paid til the 15th, so if some of y'all could float me some cash just so I can get a motel room for a couple nights, I'll fr owe you a life debt
Goal: 0/250
FundFriend
LenMo
#fuck demons fr #like seriously what'd i ever do to them 😭😭😭 #mutual aid #pls boost #don't tag as donation
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🏳️⚧️ gliesssse Follow
Important PSA
So idk if y'all have been reading the news lately, but the alcor virus has been making the rounds on the interwebs again. I feel like I shouldn't have to say this but PLEASE don't click any random links rn, ESPECIALLY if they're tagged with twin souls.
I know we twinners love to joke about it, but the alcor virus is legitimately dangerous and has been known to seriously ruin people's lives. Idk. Just like be smart and practice basic caution I guess? Jumblr's pretty much dead these days, so he might skip over us, but it's always better to be safe than sorry
⚠️ alv Follow
This is a good point! It is always better to be safe than sorry! That's why if you're smart, you'll click here for a list of ways to virus-proof your computer. Stay safe out there everybody!
Based on your likes!
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🌲 discogirl99 Follow
Anyone else just randomly crave connective tissue sometimes
🧁 sparkle-glitter-sideblog
no actually i think that might just be a you thing
#also i heard screaming on the other line when i called you earlier there better not be a mess when i get home #beloved demon brother tag
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👑 sameeya
Okay guys I might be crazy but what if the Shadow King was actually telling the truth when he said Princess Samia's brother is still alive??? Like, if you think about it, there's a tonnnn of foreshadowing in Crown of Ghosts and the author tweeted that there was gonna be a surprise twist in the new book sooo 👀👀
#i've connected the dots -- YOU DIDN'T CONNECT SHIT -- i've connected them #wanderlust trilogy #mira ramachandran #crown of ghosts #scepter of vanquished souls #princess samia #samia of cleves #shadow king #ahmed of cleves #bookblr
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🪨 professionalnatural-deactivated30141227
Reminder that you are beautiful exactly as you are and there are thousands who would sell their souls to imitate what you do naturally <3
👠 mizarsfrillypetticoat Follow
I actually really needed this today 💗
🦇 plsbytemevladdyzaddy Follow
Yo quit reblogging this op is a blatant human supremacist
🪨 professionalnatural-deactivated30141227
And? No one cares lmao
⚠️ alv Follow
Enjoy deactivation. Lmao.
🪓 wenda-was-a-lesbian-confirmed Follow
🕵🏻♂️ alcor-in-the-tardis Follow
#I sent screenshots of that one centaur post to her boss too #give you two guesses what species his wife is (tags by @alv)
Holy shit. Am I actually rooting for the alcor virus rn?
🍄 warioxreader Follow
maybe the real virus was the friends we made along the way <3
⚠️ alv Follow
No, the real virus is me. Don't take credit for my accomplishments.
🐲 retiredbus Follow
Heritage post
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🐔 old-friends-senior-griffin-sanctuary Follow
I just want to get dicked down again =/
#THIS IS NOT ME TAKING A STANCE ON SHIPPING DISCOURSE I LITERALLY DON'T CARE#best hits tag#i'm basing this entirely off the vibes i got from 2015/2016 tumblr#i just feel like the mizar the magnificent fanbase would be highkey insufferable lmao (to the dismay of all creators involved)#mizar the magnificent#transcendence au#alcor the dreambender#ian beale#mira ramachandran#rosa darling#alcor virus#al-v#twin souls#unreality#tumblr dashboard simulator#tumblr dash simulator
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Of Truths & Dreams; Malleus Draconia
Dreams can tell you a lot about a person. Their wants, their fears. But sometimes they can tell you the truth, and sometimes it isn't pretty.
Supporting Characters; Lilia Vanrouge & Malenoa Draconia
Content; Soulmate AU (I call them soul matches), gender-neutral reader, can be read as familial, platonic, or romantic, Chapter 7 spoilers, canon divergence, hurt/comfort
Content Warnings; Chapter 7 spoilers, overblot stuff, swearing
Word Count; 5 K
Don't put my work into AI, I will hunt you for sport.
Prologue & Lilia's Story | Sebek's Story
Malleus was born into this world alone. His mother, dead, and his father, missing. It was a miracle that he even hatched, as Draconia eggs required love to hatch. And his grandmother was ridden with grief, over losing her only child. It was no wonder why he was delayed by several centuries. And despite everything, he hatched. But despite his hatching, the love and adoration that people gave him, he was alone. Malleus didn’t feel loved, not in the way that mattered.
His subjects, his guards, his teachers, even his own grandmother loved the idea of him. And he was raised away from the outside world, within the dark halls of Briar Castle. Malleus was an idea, and the hope for the future rather than his own person. It was a lot for a child to handle. So, of course, he would sneak out when he thought no one was looking. The guards would realize rather quickly that the sole heir to Briar Valley, their most treasured royal, was missing. But Malleus didn’t care.
“Good evening,” he greeted the raven gargoyle that was at the westernmost turret of the outside wall. Malleus looked in the direction that the raven did, looking out into the moors. A dense fog had rolled in, covering everything in a white haze. “Do you ever wonder what’s out there?”
He knew that the stone wouldn’t answer him, but he asked anyways. “Grandmother tells me stories you know,” he sighed, taking a seat in one of the carved-out alcoves in the ancient stone. “That Briar Valley will one day be mine to keep. But I cannot rule without a soul match.”
Soul matches were quintessential for the Draconias, after all, it was their own ancestor the Thorn Fairy, who had gifted the fae the blessing. But Malleus had yet to find any trace of them in his dreams. Typically, members of his family were born with their soul match already in their dreams, but Malleus had yet to meet them, his dreams still being black and white, and no blurry stranger to speak of in sight. It was distressing, and he heard the whispered concerns of his grandmother when she thought he was in bed.
And those whispers played in his head. “Is there something the matter with me?” All the young prince got for an answer though was the distant cawing of ravens, and the approaching sounds of footsteps. “Did I do something wrong?”
It felt like he did something wrong. Why else would the Thorn Fairy withhold his birthright to a soul match? Why would she punish him? Had he already not been punished enough?
“So that’s where you were hiding,” the familiar voice of Lilia pulled Malleus from his thoughts. “Come now, young prince, you can’t hide away forever.” Lilia offered his hand for the young boy to take.
Malleus looked at his outstretched hand to his face, and placed his hand in Lilia’s. “Did I upset everyone again?” His voice was quiet as the two of them walked hand and hand down the uneven steps of the turret’s staircase.
Lilia hummed, “Upset? No. Worry? A little bit.” He was used to barking out orders in the battlefield, not looking after children, let alone one so precious to the Valley. But Lilia felt that he needed to, for both his Queen, and the late princess. He had a duty to keep, an oath that he lived by; to protect the royal line.
Malleus frowned, giving the moors a final look before he and his keeper descended into the heart of the castle. “I just wanted to find them.”
“And you will,” Lilia gave the prince a practised smile, as it was still something he was getting used to. “It may just take some time is all.”
“But mother and grandmother both were born with their soul matches already in their dreams. Why is mine not with me now?” Malleus was starting to spit a bit of fire, clearly becoming upset with his own frustration. “Why must they keep me waiting?”
Lilia took a knee, and gently placed his hands on Malleus’s shoulders, looking into his eyes. “Good things come to those who wait. It must mean that the Thorn Fairy is taking her time in finding the best match for you.” Lilia’s eyes searched Malleus’s and he propped himself back up. “So since it is taking a while, they must be very special.”
Malleus was still upset, but that put him at ease. Good things come to those who wait. So the longer he had to wait, the better his soul match should be, and that put his turbulent mind at ease… for now.
…
…
Malleus was standing in the thick fog of the moors. And it was deathly silent, not even the crickets or the throaty calls of frogs filled in the silent din. “Another dream,” he sighed to himself.
Of course it was a dream, which was obvious due to everything being in various shades of grey, white, and black, but also because he wasn’t allowed past the castle’s outer walls without someone else accompanying him.
“Why have you brought me here,” Malleus quietly asked the fog.
It is said that the Thorn Fairy lived in the moors, that she protected the moors. She put up an impenetrable wall of thorns, to protect her people from those who wished to destroy them. But the moors remained silent, and barren of colour or life. Malleus hummed to himself the lullaby that his grandmother sang to him while he was still a baby, and still in his egg. He has heard this song over the centuries as he lay dormant. Permanently etched into the deepest recesses of his mind. The lullaby was crafted solely for the fae to learn of soul matches.
Malleus stopped humming. He hadn’t met them yet, so it didn’t feel right to hum the original lyrics. “I’ll know you. I will walk with you once upon a dream,” he sang slowly, walking to nowhere in particular, the fog moving gently with his movements. “I’ll know you, that look in your eyes will be so a familiar a gleam.”
He started dancing by himself, making the fog swirl around him. “And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I’ll know you, I know what you’ll do.” Malleus made one large twirl, and all the emotions he had were summoned as fire, setting the dry grass of the moors ablaze, yet he was untouched as his dream was slowly being reduced to ashes.
“You’ll love me at once,” he whispered quietly, “the way you did once upon a dream.” Smoke filled the air, and where there was once light, white fog, there was now heavy, black smoke.
It was simply a dream though, nothing more. But dreams reveal truths, even if we don’t want to confront them.
…
…
…
Malleus had missed the entrance ceremony… again, at least Lilia was all over it, but it still rubbed Malleus in all of the wrong ways. But was it really his fault? He had never received an invitation… due to his electronics acting up again due to his own magic, so maybe it was his fault. Maybe next year! … Oh right, he would be a fourth year and not studying within the confines of Night Raven College, so in actuality, there was no next year.
At least there was a familiar face that was new to the dorm, and Sebek was overjoyed and followed Malleus dutifully. But that didn’t really change his own inner turmoil; he is next in line to be king, and yet he wasn’t able to attend something as simple as an annual recurring event? It troubled him, even as he was preparing himself for bed, adjusting his custom pillow just so.
I just wish I were invited? A proper letter. He mused in his own head, before finding himself back in the moors. It was always the moors. By this point he had traversed the entirety of it, and seen everything it had to offer, all of its little secrets. Not hard when he’s had nearly a century of time to do so.
He started humming his version of the lullaby, as he mindlessly floated along a path that he had made with his own footsteps, well trodden. Good things come to those who wait. That’s what he’s told himself, night after night. That’s what he told himself every morning when he woke up. He was getting tired of waiting. He was supposed to have been born with his soul match already in his dreams, but no one had ever appeared in Malleus’s dreams. He was always alone in the moors, with not even animals to keep him company. He was not only isolated in his waking world, the real world, but he was also isolated in his dreams.
Malleus was all alone, he had been alone for a while. Yes, he may have guards, and loyal servants, but above all else, they saw him as their next king, not Malleus; they didn’t see him for him. So maybe it was fitting that he didn’t have a soul match either. Maybe the Thorn Fairy wanted him alone.
Right as those feelings surfaced though, his dream changed. Malleus was very much still in the moors, but the silence was gone. The soft chirping of crickets filled the void. There was life, and it was all at once. The fog was still there, but Malleus could also see the faint lights of fireflies, glowing softly. This, this was new, and he didn’t know what to make of it. The once still moor was now gently rustling, breathing.
In front of him, the fog became dense, and a figure slowly emerged from it, looking around in a confused state. But they then turned their full attention to Malleus, and everything became saturated in violet.
Good things come to those who wait. They were here, they were finally here. Malleus was finally not alone.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” he greeted with a slight bow of his head. He did not know who they were, did not know of their upbringing or social status, but none of that mattered. They were his soul match, which usurped everything else.
He watched curiously as his words floated in front of him, a harsh, neon green. His soul match did the same, watching as the words faded away.
“Uh, nice to meet you too?” Their words, your words, floated in front of Malleus, the same shade of green as his. “Who are you? Where am I?”
Malleus hummed, intrigued by their reaction. Perhaps they were not taught of soul match bonds, which would be understandable, as not all families knew of the bonds the Thorn Fairy had gifted them. “I will explain all in time, for now though, let us walk together, and enjoy this moment. Shall we?”
He extended his hand, waiting for you to take it, but right as your hands were about to meet, your form turned back into mist, leaving Malleus alone yet again in his dream. “Hmm, they must have woken up suddenly… perhaps tomorrow night then…” He murmured to himself, and continued down his footpath, watching the fireflies blink in the distance.
…
…
That was a weird ass dream, and you were kinda thankful that Grim had rudely woken you up. Kinda being the key word. And you couldn’t really get back to sleep, instead just staring up at the decaying ceiling above you, just wishing that you could go back to sleep. But what was up with the formal-speaking stranger? Why were you in some sort of swamp? Why was everything purple? And why were your words floating in front of you and a bright ass neon green? It was only your first night too… maybe this was just your brain coming up with weird scenarios to distract you from the weirdness you experience while awake? Maybe some inter-dimensional travel side effects? Like some form of jet lag that messed with your dreams? Sure, let’s pin it on that.
“Ughhhh, I hate it here,” you groaned. It would be a few hours before classes even began, so you had plenty of time for utter boredom, how fun. At least you had borrowed some books from the library, a mix of general information — since that ‘headmage’ hadn’t given you a proper welcome or a lowdown on how this world functioned — and just some interesting looking cover. Don’t judge a book by its cover. Sure, but when the book was a deep violet leather-bound book, with green metallic filigree? How could you not be curious about it? It was stunning.
“Of Truths and Dreams,” you whispered to yourself, that was the title of the book, the font in the style of calligraphy from medieval texts. How old was it? Were you actually allowed to touch it, let alone read it? It looked like it belonged in a museum.
You carefully undid the metal clasp, in the shape of a dragon’s claw. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. And you began reading.
Dreams can reveal much about a person; their wants, their fears, their memories. Dreams also hold power, and such power has been bestowed to the Draconia family. And this power comes from our ancestor, the Thorn Fairy.
You snapped the book shut. This wasn’t just a book, it was a diary. You shouldn’t be reading this… but this was a chance to learn more about this world. Learn about it from… You open up the diary again, and find the owner’s name written in the same calligraphy as the title. Maleficia Draconia.
-
As with all fae, our family too is blessed with soul matches who enter our dreams as we sleep. Our family is different though, as we are born with them already in our minds; our dreams tinted in a colour that represents both of us.
They are of utmost importance to us. Without them, we cannot rule. They may become an advisor, a confidant, and in some cases, a lover. That is for both parties to decide though, we cannot use our power or status to influence their decision, no matter how we feel about them, Malenoa. Do not let our draconic greed dictate the relationship. It surfaces as a song.
I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream.
I know you, that look in your eye is so familiar a gleam.
And I know it’s true, that visions are seldom what they seem.
But if I know you, I’ll know what you’ll do.
You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream.
Ignore that song, my love, for that is the greed speaking, and not the truth. Ignore it at all costs, for it will stain the heart…
The rest of the diary was left blank, the edges of the paper charred. Turning it back over, you noticed that the entire back of the book was blackened, blackened by fire. And even though you didn’t know who Maleficia was, she had helped you a great lot. Whatever that dream was, that was no ordinary stranger. They were your… soul match? Yeah, whatever that meant.
…
…
Malleus found himself walking outside of his old haunting grounds, Ramshackle dorm. He was surprised to find it now occupied, but his sadness had morphed into something far more pleasant. He had gained a friend. He had gained you.
“Good evening, Child of Man,” he greeted you, taking notice of the large yawn that escaped your mouth. “More tired than usual I see. You do not need to walk with me tonight if rest is what you need.”
Malleus meant well, in his own odd and formal way. “Eh, it’s nothing, Tsunotarou. I’ll get some shut eye in a bit,” you waved off his concern, and shot him a small smile.
He gave you back a tiny smile, remembering the last time that he gave someone a full smile, they were left scared, not happy. He didn’t want to scare you off. That’s why he let you decide on a nickname for him, that but also names hold power… but he trusted you, he just didn’t know how to bring it up. He didn’t want your friendship to change just because you found out he was the Malleus Draconia, but he also knew that you wouldn’t really care. You didn’t seem like the type to treat him any differently just because of his title. He didn’t want to risk it though.
So the two of you walked around the outskirts of Ramshackle, fireflies lighting the way. Something about them felt familiar though, and it wasn’t from just your nightly walks with your horned friend. You could have sworn you saw them in a dream… now wasn’t the time for that, now was the time to enjoy what time you could get with your friend.
“Hey, Tsunotarou,” you asked him, turning a bit so you faced him. “Do you have a soul match?”
Malleus’s pupils dilated outwards, becoming more rounded rather than harsh slits. “Yes I do, Child of Man. I am rather surprised that you know of the subject,” he breathed out. You really were full of surprises, weren’t you?
Surprised? “How so?”
Malleus hummed to himself, a melody that sounded familiar, but it evaded you. “The bonds of soul matches of fae are only known by fae, which is why I was caught by surprise of you knowing of the term. That is all.” Do you have one, Child of Man? But why does the thought make my tongue go bitter?
“Found it in a book in the library,” you mused. You mentally kicked yourself, you could have given it to him, he may know the family of the previous owner. Maybe you could go hunting for it the next time you found yourself in the cramped halls of the library. A rather large yawn escaped from you, and that was your, and Malleus’s, queue that it was time for you to head off to the land of dreams. “Any who, night, Tsunotarou! Sweet dreams!” You waved him goodbye as he vanished into a puff of fireflies, off into the night.
…
…
And they were both asleep again, but something felt off. Like there was something dark tainting the dream. It was a familiar sensation, one that made the hairs on your neck stand on end; blot. There was blot in the dream.
“Are you alright,” you asked your soul match, carefully watching their reaction.
They hummed, and turned to look at you curiously, green eyes practically glowing in the dark violet lighting, pupils relaxing from their tight slits into more relaxed ovals. “I am alright, just thinking is all,” their words floated in front of them, still the neon green they were in the beginning.
But the alarm bells were screaming in your head. Screaming at you that everything was definitely not alright. This, this was being calculated, being considered. “You just seem preoccupied… like your mind is elsewhere is all.”
They tilted their head, “I am right here with you.” Their words were blunt, as they typically were. “However,” the lighting darkened, being tainted with more hints of blot, “are you planning on going anywhere?” Are you planning on leaving me, like everyone else?
The words hang heavily in the air. It was no use lying to them, as it would only worsen the situation to lie. “Eventually I have to… I have to go back,” you said carefully, gauging their reaction.
Malleus’s pupils turned into slits again, but he remained calm on the outside. “Go back to what? Do you not like it here?” Do you not like me?
You looked around the bog, “That’s not the case. I have responsibilities back home. I need to go back. I’m …” Sorry. But the word didn’t come out of your mouth. What did you have to apologise for? It was not your fault that you came here, but why did it feel like it?
“I too have responsibilities,” Malleus said quietly, words barely visible. “You cannot go back.” All of the pleasantries were gone, this was a command. “You are staying here with me.”
The blot thickened. Could someone overblot in their dreams? And they started singing, and it was the tune that they’ve been humming since their first shared dream.
“I know you, that look in your eye is so familiar a gleam,” they cupped your face, looking softly into your eyes. “And I know it’s true, that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you’ll do…” The violet lighting of the dream had turned almost black, the only lighting being the neon green words dancing around you. “You’ll love me at once, they way you did once-”
You shot up awake, heart beating so fast that you could feel and hear it. You didn’t need your soul match to finish the lyric, for you knew it already… for you had read it in that fire-charred diary. “… upon a dream,” you breathed out.
Your soul match is Malleus Draconia, Tsunotarou, and this was bad. The greed had taken over… alongside the blot.
…
…
Malleus looked over the forms of his sleeping classmates, singing the lullaby again. He could see everybody’s dreams, except for yours, and it was equally as annoying as it was endearing. Of course his Child of Man would be filled with surprises. Malleus only wished that his soul match was here, for he wished to see their deepest desires, to see how they would be the hero of their own tale. But when he closed his eyes, and tried to teleport to their dreams, he saw nothing. It distressed him too, he knew they were asleep, but he couldn’t see anything.
“Where are you,” he chuckled darkly, a mix of anger but also fear. He should be able to see them, but he saw nothing, nothing except for the moors now engulfed in ink. Devoid of colour and life.
Soul match bonds cannot break, at least not easily. Either they were no longer of this world — which they were not, Malleus could sense that much — or they were underneath a sleeping spell, a Draconia’s sleeping spell.
It meant that they were on the island. They have been so close this entire time. “Now, wherever could you be hiding,” Malleus sighed, looking into every single person’s dreams, looking for his soul match. Their dream should be tinted violet, singling them out to him. And as Malleus hopped from dream to dream, not once did he find the familiar colour. But they were here… he just couldn’t see them. He couldn’t see their dreams.
That left one option. There was only one person who he couldn’t see the dreams of. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you,” he floated over to your sleeping form, coming to sit next to you with a fond look in his eyes, “my dear Child of Man.” And he started humming that song of his, trying to pry into your mind, trying to get back into your dreams, where he could keep a diligent eye on you. “Looks like we have indeed met once upon a dream… that must be why your eyes are so familiar a gleam.”
…
“Yeah, this, this is beyond bad,” you muttered to yourself. You were back in the swamp, up to your chest in thick ink. The once pleasant dream was now, effectively, a trap; a giant glue trap if you will.
A boom of thunder overhead underscored your statement and brilliant flashes of bright purple and green lightning provided the only light for you, everything else was shrouded in darkness caused by the blot. Caused by Malleus. But why, why did he overblot?
“They found a way for me to go back home.” Oh. You're leaving, and add onto that, Lilia coming out from nowhere and saying that he was also leaving because his magic had dried out… That’s why.
“TSUNOTAROU!” You yelled out into the swamp, but all you got as an answer was your own voice causing ripples in the ink. “TSUNOTAROU?!” You tried again. Nothing.
Names hold power, Child of Man, do remember that. You took in a deep breath, steeling yourself for when he manifested himself here. “MALLEUS DRACONIA?!”
A bolt of lightning hit a few metres in front of you, morphing into bright green fire, and then Malleus was standing in front of you, or rather, a part of him. “You called?” He glided easily over the ink, and looked down at you, assessing you.
“What have you done, Malleus,” you refused to tilt your head upwards, instead looking up with your eyes, head remaining level.
Malleus knelt down in front of you, despite him being vastly stronger and of higher status, he still viewed you as his equal. “I did what needed to be done.” He said it so matter of factly, like it made perfect sense. “Now everyone will be happy.”
“You can’t force people to be happy,” you said back, looking into his eyes, searching for the Malleus you knew, searching for your friend. “That’s not for you to decide, Malleus.”
Malleus just hummed at your comment, and he tried to change your dream to something more pleasant, but you remained stuck in the ink. Why can I not change it? I should be able to change it. “They deserve to be happy… You deserve to be happy. Do you not?”
I mean, yeah it would be nice, but I would rather it be because of something other than an overblot, but ya know how it is. “Yes, but not like this… Let me help you, Malleus.”
“I do not need help,” he hissed, tilting your chin up. “Let me make you happy.”
The ink rose, and it was now up to your neck, and you were floating in it. You spared a quick glance down and saw a gentle lilac light shining down from the bottom. This may just be a crazy idea, but it was one worth taking.
You looked back into Malleus’s eyes. “Do you promise?”
Malleus smiled at you, “Of course I do.”
You grabbed him by the arm and pulled the both of you under the surface of the ink, making your eye towards the lilac light.
…
You crawled out of the ink and found yourself, and Malleus, on the outside walls of a grand castle, roses vining their way up the facade in full bloom. Everything was in a gentle lilac light, and fireflies glowed green despite it being daytime. It was idyllic, it was peaceful, the only thing out of place being the blot that dripped off Malleus. Yet it was contained to him, disappearing into a gentle puff of green sparkles when it hit the ground.
“How,” Malleus whispered, his words now a light green, no longer a harsh neon. “How are we here?”
You didn’t know, all you did was follow the light from the bottom of the inky depths. “Do you know this place?” You had no idea where you were, but you weren’t complaining, since you were no longer up to your neck in blot.
Malleus looked up, and there was the familiar raven gargoyle from his childhood. “This is my home,” he turned to look at you curiously. “How did you bring us here, Child of Man?”
“They didn’t,” a velvety voice said. And coming down the stairs was a woman, who looked like Malleus except older, looking like she was probably in her thirties. “I did, my love.”
She gracefully walked over, and cupped his face, looking over his features. And you could have sworn that you saw her absorb some of the blot. “You have grown into a fine young man. But you have let greed overshadow you.”
Malleus looked like he had seen a ghost, and he was frozen in place. “Mother?” His voice was quiet, barely even coming out. “But how?”
The woman, Malleus’s mother, hummed gently, combing her fingers through her son’s hair, slowly absorbing the blot from him. “You can thank them,” she turned to you and gave you a mischievous smile, “all thanks to your soul match.”
She turned back to her son, her face shifting into a more solemn expression. “My love, let me bestow a gift on you… but you won’t see me again. This is the last thing I can do for you. Let me do this though; for you and everyone you love.”
You can’t force people to be happy.
Keep everyone you love close to you, guard them, hoard them.
You’re my friend, I’ll always be with you, even if we’re far apart!
You’ll love me at once-
This was wrong, and Malleus choked on his own blot. The greed, the dark parts of the dragon had won. “Please,” he coughed.
His mother embraced him into a hug, “Spinning wheel of fate, undo this thread of darkness. As Queen of Briar, I shall bestow upon you this gift.” She placed a kiss on his forehead, and all of the blot was gone. “I love you,” she whispered, before her form vanished gently into green and lilac sparkles.
“I’m sorry,” the words floated over to you. Malleus looked tired, exhausted. How much magic had the blot taken from him? He opened his mouth again, but closed it, at a loss for words. “And I understand if… if you want nothing to do with me.”
From your times dealing with overblot, you knew this wasn’t his fault. Overblots are due to trauma, from bottling it all up until someone broke. “Why would I not want anything to do with you? I’m still friends with the others.”
Malleus looked into your eyes, but all he found was honesty… and love, love for a friend. A genuine love.
You extended your hand, “So come on, Tsunotarou. Let’s move forward together.”
And he took your hand. The path forward was sure to be bumpy, but he knew that you would stick by his side, even after this.
Fin!
Author's Note; And this concludes the Soul Match AU! I know in my poll people voted for a fluffy ending, but uhhh, I was possessed by a vision. I might continue this AU for other characters in the future, but for now this is where I've leave it. Thank you for reading!
Tags; @xxoomiii @eynnwwyjth @twistwonderlanddevotee @savanaclaw1996 @krenenbaker
If you like my work, please check out my masterlist [there are 9 other Soul Match works btw]
#twst#twst x reader#twst x gn reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland x gn reader#malleus draconia#malleus draconia x reader#malleus draconia x gn reader#malenoa draconia#<- i've seen her name as both malenoire and malenoa so i just flipped a coin to decide on which one to use#twst soulmate au#soul match au#started august 15 ended august 18#i need to go back and add up all of the words for my complete word count#rough estimate; 52000 words#I STARTED THIS ON JUNE 13 2023 WHAT THE FUCK BRAIN#this was all in the span of just over 2 months oh my gods#i'll include in the added thoughts the total word count and how many pages it would be if i ever decided to make a hard copy for myself#writing; powered by hyperfixation~#originally i wanted no fluff or comfort in this but decided to go easy on you#the only one that has made me cry yet is ruggie's; no one else; just ruggie
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Before I Knew You - Part Eleven
Bill Weasley x Reader
Masterlist, Part One
Summary: You’ve spent years training under Madam Pomfrey in the hopes that you would join the Healers at St. Mungo’s at graduation. But in the aftermath of the death of Albus Dumbledore, you chose to join the Order instead. When you’re forced into hiding, you find yourself alone with Bill Weasley and his new wolfish tendencies.
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: 18+, typical canon warnings, smut, age gap, oral sex (fem recieving), delayed orgasm, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, cum eating (kinda?), allusions to knotting, angst. Minors DNI.
A/N: This would not have been written without you, Lovely 💛
There was a lot of arguing. The younger siblings demanded answers. Their parents tried to give none. Bill countered that they should know. That it was in everyone’s best interest to be prepared in case they too were interrogated. Fred suggested moving you. He flinched at the growling disagreement from Bill. Molly tried to argue he may be right, but George said Yaxley could be hoping for that. Fear causes people to make mistakes, he argued.
“What exactly did he ask?” The table fell silent, looking towards you. But you were only looking at Arthur.
“Much the same as his father had asked at the wedding. Why you’d been there, where you’d been before, where you went after. He asked that if I heard anything about or from you, to tell him. Only him. And if I saw you," he looked at Bill who nodded for him to continue, "to tell you that he has someplace safe.”
The table erupted again with words like delusion and trap thrown around.
"He's going to the twins next." The commotion died once more, all eyes on you.
"How do you know?"
"Because I know Cillian." No. That wasn't right. The Cillian you knew wasn't a murderer. "At least, I know he was jealous of them back in school. Thought one of them had a thing for me." You'd nearly forgotten that. You looked between Fred and George. "He'll be more aggressive with you because of it."
Fred winked. "Don't worry 'bout us, love—
—we can handle him," George finished.
Bill's fist slammed on the table, making Ginny flinch. "This isn't a fucking joke!"
"But they need to act like it is," you countered. You kept your eyes on the twins. They needed to be prepared. They needed to know. "You've got to be as combative with him as he will be with you. Make it clear you have no intention to cooperate with him. If you act any differently it'll look suspicious to him."
Molly tapped her wand against the table, all the dishes lifting from the table. They flew to the kitchen, scraping themselves into the trash before settling into the sink. She followed them, waving her wand. Water and soap filled the sink. You’d forgotten magic could be used for something as mundane as dishes.
“That’s good to know,” George said, trying to ignore the uncertainty that had settled over the table with Molly’s abrupt end to dinner. Half the plates still had food.
“What if he brings his father?” Ginny asked.
“He won’t. Cillian has to be going behind his back trying to find me. Corbin wants me dead.”
Plates clattered in the kitchen. The Weasleys shared looks with each other.
Molly stood clutching the counter, staring out the window. "We should have all gone into hiding when we had a chance." Arthur came to her side and she allowed herself to be brought into his arms, burying her face in his chest. It hurt to see.
Ginny’s final day had been ruined. At least she’d be safe from Cillian’s questioning at Hogwarts. It would be too risky for him to go there. Even with Fred and George he’d have to be careful. Eyes would be everywhere in Diagon Alley with someone reporting back to someone who could report back to his father of his activities. That was if he wasn’t already being followed.
They left shortly after. Molly’s hug was a bit tighter than comfortable when she promised everything would be alright. Fred said he’d stop by again soon. Ginny said nothing, but squeezed your hand with watery eyes. You didn’t go outside to see them off, but as you looked at the clean kitchen you wish you had. There was nothing there to keep your hands busy. Magic had cleaned the dishes and put them in their place. It had wiped the counters. Swept the floors. Even the chairs had been pushed in.
One pop. Then another. And then the door, steps, a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. I should have told you earlier."
"Ginny got to enjoy most of her day. I wouldn't have been much fun if you'd told me before.” His hand fell off as you shrugged. “Besides, it’s better that they all know. So they’re prepared.”
“You really think he’s gonna go after them?”
“Cillian was jealous a lot.” Another thing you’d nearly forgotten. “I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t try to track down every guy that’s ever spoken to me.” Not the women though. He didn’t think Cho had counted. You turned and rested your head against his chest, his embrace welcome. The tension eased in your body.
“It’ll be okay,” he promises, “they’ll be okay.”
—
Bill left early the next morning to see Ginny off, reluctantly leaving you in bed with a kiss and a promise to not to be gone long. You stayed in bed for a bit, but sleep never returned.
The sun rose higher in the sky as you worked out in the garden. Molly had brought the wolfsbane stored in the Burrow’s shed, miscellaneous potion ingredients that had been collected from various Order members, and any seeds she could spare the day before. Professor Sprout’s lectures echoed through your mind as you planted new seeds and replanted old plants into neat lines. You’d have to figure out how to build a greenhouse for some of the more difficult plants. There was plenty of sand to make glass.
When all that could be done in the small garden was done, it was still a quarter till ten. How you missed the hours it would take on the farm.
Your hair was your next task. That would take time. Washing, brushing, using your favorite hair potion Ginny had been thoughtful enough to bring. You considered styling it without the aid of magic to pass the time, but decided against it.
As your hair righted itself, your thoughts drifted back to the wolfsbane. Maybe if you could get in contact with Charlie, he could get some dragon blood. And maybe Hagrid could get some Occamy eggs. The rest would be easy enough to get your hands on. Then you could finally get a real attempt at the Wolfsbane Potion for Remus.
Until then, you had other things you needed to start working on. Potions and salves to make now that you had the ingredients.
That was how Bill found you a while later. Bent over a cauldron on the stove, hair covered to protect it from the steam of the Murtlap Essence. “Mum made treacle tart,” he said, sliding a pastry box on the counter. “And brownies.” Another box. “And some biscuits.” A third box. “She bakes a lot when she’s worried. I don’t think she slept at all.”
Your shoulders deflated. She’d have been worried anyway, with Ginny off to Hogwarts, but with the threat of Cillian hanging over her sons it must be so much worse.
“She wanted to know if she can drop by a couple times a week while I’m at work.”
“Why?”
“She wants to make sure you're doing alright. Thinks you have to be lonely here. She won’t say it, but she’s gonna be lonely too now that Ginny’s gone.” His arm slid around your waist. “I told Fred and George they should come by sometimes too.”
Your gaze snapped to his face, surprised. “Why?”
“Because you need a life outside of me. And I know my family isn’t really that, but I’ll see if I can get the other Order members to come by. Get them checked up and all that.”
“Do you really think that’s the greatest idea? You could barely stand having Kingsley here. Thought you were gonna tear Fred’s head off yesterday.”
“I’ll still get you to myself at night, right?”
“Yeah but,” you tried to explain, “are you sure you’re up for that? If it could make your symptoms worse, especially with the full moon coming, then mayb—“
His kiss cut you off.
“Like I said,” he breathed against your lips, “I’ll have you to myself at night. That’s enough.”
“But everything with Cillian, is it really safe?”
“It’s safer, I think, than you being here alone all the time. And we’ll come up with a plan in case something goes wrong. Practice some defensive spells, figure out a place to go.”
You kissed him softly. “Thank you.”
“Oh don’t thank me,” he said, his teasing tone setting in, “it’s about time you started pulling your weight. Can’t have you lounge on the beach all day in some provocative little swimsuit, can we?”
You scoffed. “It was not provocative!”
“Have to disagree with you there, love.” His nose brushed against your cheek. “Everything you wear is provocative.”
“Guess I’ll stop wearing anything then.”
His groan had you smiling. “Please tell me you’re nearly done,” he begged.
“It’s gotta simmer for another couple hours,” he groaned again, “but it’ll be fine on its own fo—OH! Bill!”
It seemed he was determined to make it a habit of throwing you over his shoulder. Only this time he bypassed the couch and kicked the door to the bedroom open. You bounced against the mattress, giggling as you removed the hair covering. He was eager, giddy even, as he pulled off his clothes. He crawled up the bed, smiling into a messy kiss before helping to remove your own.
His lips trailed down your neck. Teeth and tongue teased your collarbone. Your fingers tangled in his hair as his mouth found your breasts. A soft moan slipped out. He alternated between them, nipping and licking until you were squirming. When you asked him to stop teasing, he nuzzled into your neck and laughed. "I've got the patience today, love."
It clicked what he meant a moment before he slid down. Your groan turned high and breathless as his tongue glided between your folds. "Oh fuck," you gasped, hips jumping. His hand held you in place. You whimpered. This wasn't fair. His tongue traced a lazy pattern that had your legs shaking. You wanted to grab him and pull him closer. But he was unmoving. The pleasure was agonizing. He would go faster then slower. Fast, then slow. You felt the edge creeping closer and then he'd pull back and nip at the softness of your thighs.
He was merciless. He was enjoying himself. His groans were sinful, his hands greedy as the touched every part of you but the place you needed them most, his pace never slowing.
"Please," you begged, voice cracking.
Bill chuckled. "Please, what, love?" he asked, the vibrations shooting up your spine.
"Please stop teasing me. Please, let me cum. Please."
"So desperate for me, eh?" His fingers pushed into you. Rubbing and searching until they curled against a spot that had you seeing white. He hummed in delight, letting his tongue flick over your clit. The knot in your stomach snapped, his name falling from your lips over and over.
He didn't stop or slow as the high faded.
"Bill," you cried. It was too much. You pushed at his head, trying to get away from the touch. You were too sensitive. His arm wrapped around your thigh and pulled you closer.
"One more, love."
"No, no, I can't. Bill, I can't."
"One more, love. Just one more," he promised. His hand was relentless. Fingers working that same spot. Your muscles tensed. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. Your vision blurred. The pleasure too intense, body locked and trembling. It was euphoric. When the spasming finally subsided you gulped down air.
Bill crawled back up, smiling proudly. "Beautiful," he said. The taste of you clung to his lips as he kissed you again. Your arms looped around his neck. You wanted more. Needed more. You pulled him closer. He settled between your legs. The head of his cock teased your entrance, making you jolt. Still sensitive. You whimpered into his mouth.
"Too much?" he asked, concerned.
Your legs wrapped around his and encouraged his hips forward. "Not enough."
His nose bumped against yours. "Godric, I love you."
He slid inside, inch by inch. Slowly. Your bodies pressed flush together. A gasp escaped when his hips finally met yours. His head fell to the crook of your neck, and he stilled for a moment, taking deep breaths. Then his hips pulled back and he began a slow pace. It was gentle. His lips caressing every part of your skin they could reach. Your hands trailed down his back. The pleasure built slowly until your climax hit again.
He kissed your jaw. "More?" he whispered.
"More."
The pace picked up. Slow became steady. You whimpered as he continued to fill you.
"So perfect," he groaned.
His hips stuttered and picked up speed. You could feel another orgasm approaching. You dug your nails into his skin, holding on tight. His breathing grew heavy, his kisses messy and wet. His hips slammed against yours and you tumbled over the edge crying his name. He followed, burying his face in your neck as his hips slowed and came to a stop.
Bill collapsed beside you and pulled you close. "Think you could go for five?" he panted. You swatted his chest. He laughed and kissed your hair. You didn't want to move. Your eyes were drooping in exhaustion when you realized you had to.
"The dittany," you sighed, reluctantly pulling away from him. You went to stand, but your legs wobbled.
"I'll get it," Bill laughed, guiding you back down. He left with a kiss, not bothering to slip anything on. He's not gone long and he didn't come back empty handed. He was gentle with the warm washcloth as he wiped up his spend that had seeped out of you. But you were still sensitive. And vocal. A wicked gleam in his eyes warned you it wasn't over.
"What are you—" your words cut off in a sharp cry as his tongue dragged across your cunt again.
"Cleaning up my mess" he said before diving back in. He was thorough, tongue sliding inside you and swirling around. You were exhausted and sure you couldn't give him what he wanted, but he wasn't deterred.
He licked and nipped and sucked. His name fell from your lips.
"Please," you sobbed.
He pulled back, wiping his chin. "Please what?"
"I can't. Please."
He hummed, considering, and dove back in. You gripped the sheets, withering under him. He was relentless. It was overwhelming. Every muscle tensed, the knot in your stomach coiling tight. You cried out. It was blissful torture. Your toes curled. Your legs shook. The orgasm hit like a tidal wave. You whimpered as his tongue eased you down.
When he was satisfied, he pulled back. "Six?"
"Don't you fucking dare." There was no ire in your tone.
"Need me to grab you anything?" he offered with a sly grin. "Since you can't walk?"
"Shut up." You threw a pillow at him. He laughed, dodging the assault.
"Be back in a minute."
He was true to his word, returning with two glasses of water, the box of treacle tart, and a fork. He handed you a glass and climbed in bed next to you. He left another kiss against your forehead. It felt normal. As if you'd been together for years. As if you were together. He offered you the first bite of the tart. A part of you ached.
—
Molly came the next morning after Bill had left for work. She was so different from your mother, yet so much the same. They both had to keep busy when things were stressful. Something to do to keep their mind clear. Your father wasn’t like that. He liked to sit and think and plan.
She left not long after Bill returned home. You worried she’d noticed the way Bill nearly greeted you with a kiss. But she said nothing about it. You’re not sure if that made you feel better or worse.
—
Tonks popped in for only an hour the day after. Her conversation stayed far from werewolves or the upcoming full moon. It’s only as she was preparing to leave she asked, “Think we’ll see Bill anytime soon?”
“I don’t think so.”
She didn’t comment more on it. She knew. You felt a prickle of annoyance after her departure. She knew and said nothing. Not before, not when Bill was struggling, not now. Next time you’d ask for—no, demand answers. It was only fair. For Bill’s health.
—
You’re alone the two days leading up to the full moon. Bill was insatiable. You woke up the morning of with Bill’s rushed pleas in your ear.
“Need you, love. Please.”
It’s different. Less controlled. Like he’d been starved and presented a buffet. He’s desperate. “Cum for me, please. Need to, fuck love, need to feel you squeeze me, please, please, please.” You complied happily.
—
You paced the living room. He was supposed to be home an hour before. You didn’t question him when he finally appeared. With the way he kissed you, it couldn’t have been anyone else.
He was rough. His hands bruising, possessive.
You don't remember making it to the bed or removing your clothes, but your there under him. His mouth is on your skin, biting and sucking. There would be bruises tomorrow. He buried himself inside you without resistance. The sound you let out was embarrassing. It only encouraged him. He fucked into you harder, his hand sliding between your bodies.
It's verging on painful. "Bill," you moaned, clawing at his shoulders. You don't want him to stop. His fingers circled your clit.
"Need you to cum," he groaned. His lips found yours again. His fingers worked faster. "I can't" he cut himself off with a growl, "can't hold back. Fuck, please cum." Your back arched and nails dug into his skin. He cursed. You cried, clenching around him. His hips slammed against yours once more, and then he stilled.
But something was wrong.
There was more pressure than there should be. You can't focus on it. Your eyes were too heavy. "Bill?" It came out groggy. His weight crashed into you. You were barely able to adjust him to allow yourself to breathe before you slipped into unconsciousness.
Author's Note: He said "I love you" and our girl assumed he meant in the friendly "Wow, you're so awesome and cool!" kinda way and not in the "In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." kinda way. He's definitely having his own internal freakout about her nonresponse to it.
Next
Before I Knew You Tag List: @believinghurts @frozenwisteria @maralisa124 @voiddylanobrosey @kyla-hale-blog @pearlsofme @minstens @sofriane @sheeple @alldaysdreamers @hotleaf-juice @elnmop @sweetphantomofyournoodler @itshardbeingamultistan @remuslupinscumslutt @thesecretwriter @cali-girl-in-heart @thxtmarvelchick @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @bitch-biblioklept @unstableyetloveable @psamathegoesrawr @camelliaflow3r @undeniablyyou @luciferismybabe @luvrsbian @pink-hufflepuff f @queen-of-elves @bountydroid @solkee @m-rae23 @queenofbeingdepressed @smolmexicangirl @manzanosstuff @hungrhay @mae-foster @seb-buckybarnes @idga-fudgeicle
HP Tag List: @bamboozledflamplant @charmingandfantasticfics @discogrrl @squishytomatoes @benonlinear @byelannie @itsccc @bluegiraffeplushie @pancakefancake
#bill weasley#bill weasley x reader#bill weasley smut#bill weasley x you#bill weasley x hufflepuff!reader#bill weasley x healer!reader
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-–— STEAMING MUGS : FLUFFTOBER DAY 4
first time writing for conrad 🫶 i don't have much to say but i just wanna mention i'll be busy this week and next week because i have lots of tests, but i'll probably still be able to post in time. also please don't be afraid to comment or send me any feedback for my writing, i appreciate all the reblogs and reblog comments too mwah | flufftober | navigation
summary: waves crashing, kettles hissing, and taylor swift. there's no better sound than these things. (this is such a bad summary💀)
warnings/cw: no y/n, belly's sister, maybe some canon breaking???
word count: 0.7 k
paring: conrad fisher x you
Laughter filled the air as you and Conrad started running towards the snowing beach, a sight you never got to see until he could finally start driving.
You and Conrad had been testing the waters lately, making sure the both of you wanted this before committing to anything. Ever since the events of last year went down, everyone's emotions were scattered, and both of you knew better than to jump into something serious at a time like that.
"I win!" He laughs breathlessly, placing his hands on his knees in a slightly bent position. He looks at you with that wide smile you adore.
"No fair! Your legs are longer!" You whine back, you've forgotten how tiring the trip from the beach house to the beach was at times, and it seemed even harder in the winter.
"Oh, shut up. C'mere." He takes your hand and pulls out his phone. He stands behind you and wraps an arm around you as he plants a kiss on your cheek, taking the photo. You look down at the photo, laughing softly. Both your cheeks were red from the cold and a smile that wouldn't wipe off.
An idea pops into your head and you take his phone, playing the perfect song for something that was a weird sight for you but oh, so, fucking beautiful. You look back at him with a cheeky smile and hand him the phone. "Still remember the dance for the debutante ball?"
He shakes his head, his smile forming into a grin. That night was one of the worst of his life, but also one of the best. "How could I forget? You stepped on my feet all the time during practice." He takes position with you as you shake your head, a wider smile on your face.
"That was not my fault, you couldn't stay away from me." You sigh as the both of you start to dance, the only thing that fills the air is the waves softly crashing and the slightly muffled music.
"As much as I loved that, it was fucking freezing." He slips his coat off, helping you take off yours before turning on the fireplace to help the both of you keep warm. You head over to your bag and pull out two packs of hot chocolate. The summer house was always cleaned out before everyone left, so there was little to no food at all in the pantry or fridge.
You set the water to a boil and as soon as it starts to hiss, you pour the water into the mugs, mixing it and watching as the water turns into a comforting mix of chocolate and marshmallows. Conrad comes over, wrapping his arms around your waist as his lips start to leave light kisses on your cheek. A laugh escapes your lips and you sigh, nothing felt better than this.
"Let's warm-up, you're freezing." He mumbles into your neck before slowly pulling away, taking the steaming mugs from the counter, and bringing them over to the living room. You take a seat on the floor and stare at the fireplace. "You sure this isn't just an excuse to cuddle?"
You press your legs against your chest and look over at him as he sits down beside you, shaking his head and taking a careful sip of his hot chocolate. "Nuh-uh. If I wanted to cuddle, you'd be willing to anyway." He smirks as you roll your eyes and lay on his shoulder.
"Mom would kill me if she found out I snuck out. Thankfully Belly promised to keep it a secret if I brought her a souvenir." He lets out a laugh and lays his head on yours, taking your hand and placing it on the warm mug. You watch as the steam escapes, the warmth of the mug and his hand, plus the fireplace is enough to keep you warm.
"I love you, you know that?" He mumbles out, not wanting to ruin the moment. You nod once and let his free hand cup your face, tilting your head to let your forehead meet his. "I mean it. Prettiest girl in all of Cousins. Actually, scratch that, the entire world." You let out a soft chuckle and lean in, both your lips meet and let the kiss escalate into something bigger.
#★ — ﹙daydreaming . . . 📜﹚#★ — ﹙flufftober . . . 🍁﹚#conrad fisher#conrad fisher x reader#conrad fisher imagine#conrad fisher fluff#tsitp conrad#conrad x reader
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Y'all ever notice that Fujiko receives a disproportionate amount of hate in the fandom? I'm sure it's something we've all seen, especially if you're a fan of her, but I don't really see it discussed.
I'm bringing it up now because for the past couple of months, I keep running into new fans that are very vocal about disliking her. And while I understand that everyone has their preferences, the reasons they give for why they hate her bother me the most:
"She's a bitch, she's so awful to the poor guys and especially to Lupin."
"She's a slut. She's constantly using her body to get what she wants."
"She betrays the gang so much it's annoying how she always does the same thing."
"It's the writers' fault for making her so unlikable."
While I partially understand one of these points, some of these other ones confuse me.
Fujiko is a character that looks out for herself. She goes into every heist with the thought of "what can I get out of this?" And despite this, she's been shown many times to care about all of the gang. Yes, even in part 2 where folks usually base their hatred of her off of. This is because she is a multifaceted character that isn't just driven by a single motivation.
"But Jigen and Goemon hate her!"
Do they? Because while they do get mad at her shenanigans, we also see them going out of their way to protect her and comfort her. Hell, Fujigoe is a common canon occurrence! Do you really think Goemon would be dating her if he didn't like her? Or that Jigen would be pushing her out of the way of bullets or shielding her with his body if he didn't care about her? Being mad or annoyed with someone's actions aren't the same as hatred. No one ever points out how they get mad at Lupin, and I'd argue that happens more often!
And on the point of her being a slut...where? I'm genuinely confused with this one. Fujiko does use her beauty and charms both to manipulate rich men into giving her treasure and to get out of dangerous situations. That's kind of the point of her being a femme fatale. But how often does she sleep with the people she manipulates? Most instances I can think of, she knocks them out when she gets that far. In fact, I would argue she doesn't seem to be that interested in having sex at all. Do they count her flirting as being slutty? If so, c'mon. And even if she did sleep with her targets, why would this be a bad thing? Are women characters not allowed to have sex? And again, how come Lupin doesn't get the third degree for HIS sluttiness. In fact, I see people joke about it and celebrate it if anything.
On the point of her betraying gang, yeah it is very one-note and does get old. You know what else is very one-note? Literally the actions of every other character in the show. I don't see people complaining about Zenigata chasing the gang getting old. Or about Lupin flirting with every woman he sees. Or about Jigen and Goemon using the same weapons in the same way to get out of every situation. Y'know, maybe this is just a repetitive show! And tbh, the writing lately has been shaken up. The modern series doesn't really have Fujiko betray the gang much anymore. She's either off doing her own thing or she's working with the gang as a member of the team. A lot of people complain about parts 4-6, but I think this is one of the elements it does right.
And finally, on the note of "poor Lupin", I think this one pisses me off the most lol. The fuck y'all mean "poor Lupin"?? I think fans either forget or don't realize that Lupin is a pretty smart guy. He knows Fujiko is most likely going to betray him if he does something for her, the bastard LIKES IT. This is foreplay for both of them. In case you haven't noticed yet, both of them are kind of freaks lol. There's a reason that most of the time, Jigen and Goemon are mad at HIM. Lupin is not a poor sweet baby that needs protection from Fujiko. He specifically loves the chase, the constant push and pull of their relationship. She's an exciting challenge for him, he's a stable home for her.
While I agree that Fujiko has not always been written great in the past, and I'm sure a lot of that was due to misogyny, I think fans need to reevaluate why they criticize her more harshly than the rest of the gang. There's a lot of things she's done that the fandom deems unforgivable, yet the boys have done some of the same stuff without so much as a slap on the wrist. Lupin constantly puts them all in unnecessary danger. Jigen has made some really unsavory comments about women. Goemon has betrayed the gang more than once. And I don't see nearly enough discussion about how Lupin really used to push himself on Fujiko, to the point of it being uncomfortable sometimes. Like damn I'd sell his ass out too😬.
I think it all boils down to Fujiko being a woman. And as a woman, she has to work harder to please the fans. If she's too nice, then she doesn't really have a personality or a reason for anyone to like her. If she's too selfish, she's a mean bitch and everyone should hate her. What if people saw her as a character first? Because no she's not a good person, but neither are the rest of the gang. Their morals are all on a sliding scale of what works best for the plot. But damn she's a great character. She stands out on her own and really makes you remember her. She's so much more than "the girl" character, and I'm so grateful for that. I hope more fans come to this conclusion too.
#lupin iii#lupin the third#fujiko mine#long post#can you feel my frustration? lol#finally decided to make it a post here because i got tired of being talked over and ignored in servers when i'd try to make my point
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hey sweet soul!! I wanted to ask you if you could write #6 of spicy nsfw with Armin. He's canonically with Annie so I think it's a good idea
After this take care dear, have an amazing day and stay hydrated💗💗💗
aw angel ty same to you 🙈💕 happy to have ur req i'm absolutely feral for this prompt hehe
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ PLAYING DIRTY
MDNI | Armin
⚠️Cws; cheating, SMUT
Notes; fem!reader
⚠️💦Smut cws; unprotected sex, creampie, a little 🐱 eating/playing, light breeding kink, clothed sex
░ 🍒 His eyes are plastered all over your body. He stifles a sigh, feeling agonized that he can't lay his hands on you. The poor boy looks so glum when Annie lays a bland kiss on him.
░ 🍒 Armin's goodboy front deters from how sexual he is. He's thought about having you in all sorts of positions. Sometimes he'd convince himself that it was you moaning from pleasure underneath him instead of her, and that it was your sweet pussy that's clinging to his cock instead of hers.
░ 🍒 He's had to fake or rush so many orgasms with Annie it's kinda sad :( he scuttles off to the bathroom and cums to the spicy messages you sent him.
░ 🍒 A few months into their turbulent relationship, he snapped and placed his needy hands on you. He just out of the blue crashed his lips onto yours while you two were hanging out at his apartment.
░ 🍒 The way he responded to your teasing touches was like that of a man starved of affection.
░ 🍒 "I want more of you." He begged. You were hesitant, "What about-" but he cut you off, "I don't care."
░ 🍒 "God, I can't help myself around you. Do you have any idea what you do to me?" He groans while sliding into you right there on the couch. He keeps your legs spread nice and wide for him, making sure you take everything he's got, even if you run the risk of getting caught.
░ 🍒 Sometimes he pulls out and finishes just in time before Annie comes home. You've had to hide in the closet of their bedroom more times than you can count. But Armin never lets you sneak out their apartment without pressing a dirty, feverishly passionate kiss to your lips.
░ 🍒 "I'm gonna make you mine." He whines, his cock unbearably sensitive from how long you two have been fucking. His lil mushroom tip stubbornly rubs into a spot you love, making you arch your back pornographically for him.
░ 🍒 There's a dent in the wall because of the bedframe bashing into it. You swear those thrusts sent you into another world. " 'Don't care if it's wrong, baby, 'm gonna put a baby in you 'n make you mine." He grunts, coming completely undone above you. "You'd like that huh?"
░ 🍒 His head spins when he sees you gushing and creaming all over him. And you bet he's licking it all up afterwards.
░ 🍒 "Look at that, baby, look how messy you are." He grunts, sliding his needy cock right back inside with a harsh snap to your hips. He just came, yet he still craves you as if he hasn't fucked you in a month.
░ 🍒 You'll often find yourself pressed against against the wall, Armin mouthing hickeys on your neck while you take him. "Mhm, take it, just like that. You're so good, so much better th-than... ahhh fuck, 'm gonna cum again."
░ 🍒 "H-hurry up, isn't your girlfriend coming back soon?" You whine, legs pried wide apart for him, shaking up and down, feeling him shoot another hot load inside. "Mmm, don't worry about it. We can squeeze in one more round."
░ 🍒 It's dripping down your thighs, and later at the friend's gathering you've got to act like you don't have Annie's boyfriends cum stuffed inside you while you sit and talk in the living room. You've even got to play off your limp.
░ 🍒 Or you'll sneak off into the laundry room with him, letting him make a sloppy mess of your mouth with his aching cock. Armin's not a verbal boy, but boy he sure is when you have your lips wrapped around him.
░ 🍒 Sometimes he's so impatient that he can't even waste time undressing. He needs to have you, to taste you, and absolutely devour you. His nimble fingers will impatiently rub into your panties, pull em aside and feel up how wet you are. He loves massaging your wetness into your clit. He knows how to play with your pussy better than his own girl's 🤷♀️
#🌶️#mdni#🐬Ocean Prince#armin#armin arlert#aot#snk#armin x reader#armin x y/n#snk armin#aot armin#attack on titan#aot armin arlert#armin x you#armin headcanons#armin smut#aot smut#snk smut#armin arlert smut#smut#tw smut#armin aot#fem reader#fem!reader#fem!y/n#fem y/n#armin x fem reader
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BSD characters as parents PT2
Pt1 - Pt2 - Pt3 - Pt4 - Pt5 - Pt6 - Pt7 - Pt8
Masterlist
A.n: it's updated now as well with pt1 and pt3!! Images from BSD manga
Okay here's the part 2, cause this fandom is hungry for fluff and happiness-
(This is kinda long- so only two characters for today)
Characters: Akutagawa and Atsushi
Warnings: PTSD mentioned, k!lling mentioned, please dni if you are uncomfortable by these mentioned warnings.
Akutagawa:
Marriage or not? Both is possible with this man (and every other Mafia member, cause yk-)
If it's not from a marriage, there's a chance he wouldn't care at first but then his neglected self would push him to take care of the baby. If it's from a marriage, he would love the baby from the start.
Akutagawa would also be scared to accidentally harm his child. If his child is a boy, he can be a little more serious with him. He would remind him himself tbh. But not too serious, he wants them to be strong and not be harm by others, he would see himself in his son and he would a bit more carefull to not to neglect him. If it's a girl, he would still be serious with them, but a bit less then if child was a boy, I think if the child was a girl, she would remind him of Gin and he couldn't be too serious with her.
He would constantly praise them for the things they done: did the child finish their food? That's his good girl/boy, did they draw something and showed him? That's the best drawing he seen till now. He would say how proud he is of them.
He would be scared to disappoint or neglect his child, he don't want to be like Dazai (I think I remember it canon that Akutagawa hates Dazai but still wants his approval. I hope I didn't understand this part wrong and everyone understand this)
Not to say He probably has a good amount of money at the side, he can treat his child like a prince/princess.
Aunt Gin? She is the caring and loving aunt there. I see, she would be like the child's big sister. The number one play friend and babysitter. She even let them put make up on her.
Higuchi adores the child. She is ready to take them everywhere if they want, they want to see their papa? Higuchi would bring them to Akutagawa in an instant. She is their one of the first play friends and also their babysitter if Gin's not there.
Dazai would be happy to see that Akutagawa isn't following his path, I can see he would protect Akutagawa's child from afar.
When Atsushi learn about the child he is also their play friend with Kyouka. Atsushi also try to harm Akutagawa less in fights, he don't want to make the child sad by how hurt Akutagawa was.
I saw in mayoi cards that his ability sometimes acts on its own? Let's count this as canon, then his ability is the biggest fan of the child. It's like a golden retriever near the child. It's their biggest guardian and protector yet also their first ever friend. Even Akutagawa would be shocked how his ability adored his child he won't admit but his lips curled upwards when he first saw his ability nuzzling to his child for pets and hugs
He wouldn't want his child to get hurt so, he would want them in good side. But he won't be too disappointed if they end up in Mafia as well.
He is in a dilemma with that point..
He both wants them near him and don't, he wants them near him cause that way he can be sure to protect them. But he also doesn't wants them near him cause it would cause them to get targeted by many people and could use harm..
Overall he is protective yet proud fathers who gives the praise and care he didn't get to his child..
Atsushi:
Its from either from a Marriage or he adopted an orphan left to his door/he found in streets. He probably doesn't like one time things and won't do anything like that
He would be always on his toes to not to hurt the child, Kyouka, Dazai, and Kunikida would be the ones who assure him that he won't hurt the child and that he is a good father.
He would be the most gentle among any character in BSD. He has PTSD (or c-ptsd, I hope I spelled this right) so he is scared he might done anything to harm his child.
It doesn't matter the gender, he is the careful and gentle dad type.
He doesn't want to be seen in his ability by his child. He would have nightmares about how he lost control and attack his child or harm them. First Kyouka would comfort him then Dazai and Kunikida would be the ones that reassure him
He just needs some comfort and reassurance, he thought he was useless, doesn't deserve things, and always blamed himself. He even thought he couldn't take care of the child at one point
Not to mention he would use his money to give Kyouka better childhood and make his child happy, yet he would start saving money as well by Kunikida's advices for his child's future
Kyouka is the play friend and always near his child while Kenji is with them as well, he trusts Kyouka with his child and she is very happy inside for that, Kyouka would also be their big sister and kenji would have a big brother like relationship with Atsushi's child. Dazai is the happy uncle who like to play with the child. Dazai, like in Akutagawa's part, protect Atsushi's child in secret
Kunikida is the responsibile uncle, who babysits the child alongside with Kyouka and Kenji. He would take Kenji, Kyouka and Atsushi's child to eat tike to time.
When Akutagawa learns about Atsushi's child, he sometimes ends fights early. He would also try to harm Atsushi less, and if he meet with the child one day? Let's imagine the child got lost in crowd (not like Kyouka or others let that happen) and he accidentally bump into them. He wouldn't know what to do at first, he would try to comfort the child if they are crying then place them on his shoulders and look for jinko. He wouldn't show it but he was kinda scared about hurting the child and regardless of the gender, the child remind him of his sister.
Atsushi wants his child be in good side no matter what, he doesn't want them to get in harm's way or harm people.
He would be very proud of them and maybe even cry if his child decided to save people like others in ADA. He was still scared inside but his pride came up more-. If his child decides to get on the bad side: He honestly would blame himself mostly if his child decide to get involved with mafia. He would felt like he failed them and failed as a father. He would feel useless again.
Overall he wants his child to be safe and happy no matter what while he didn't had good examples in his past, he rises them to be like people in ADA: kind, helpful, caring and most importantly.. a good person...
A.N: that's characters for today!
#bsd#bsd chuuya#bsd dazai#bsd fandom#bsd yosano#bungou stray dogs#bsd atsushi#bsd au#bsd comic#bsd fanfic#bsd akutagawa#bungo stray dogs akutagawa#bsd nakajima atsushi#bungou stray dogs atsushi#bungou stray dogs dazai#bsd kunikida#bungou stray dogs kunikida#bsd kenji#bsd kyouka#bsd headcanons#bsd fluff#family moments#bsd comfort#bsd parent comfort#bsd art#bsd scenarios#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs fanfic#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs chuuya
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Nameless, Faceless: Final Part
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.8k
Summary: Not even four hours after the case in Canada, you're thrown into another one. This time, without Hotch. You have a sinking feeling he's not just blowing you off to get some sleep. There's something wrong.
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill
Author’s Note: welcome to the first episode of season 5! i hope you enjoy this series just as much as i loved writing it! <3
I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.
x
They're all concerned about Spencer but even more concerned about Hotch and whether he's going to survive or not. They rush him to the same hospital that Hotch is in to keep them both in the same area. You've been by Hotch's side the whole time and he hasn't woken up yet. You rub your hands together nervously and look to the left of you to see your team fast-walk down the hallway.
"Hey, he's still not conscious."
"Are you sure it was Foyet?" Rossi asks.
"I felt his energy at Hotch's place. I saw what happened. Hotch lost a lot of blood but he's been stable since I arrived. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want you to be distracted. Plus, he was checked in with Derek's credentials that he stole the last time we saw him."
"Did they catch him on the security camera?"
"I saw him drop Hotch off but the camera is only at the entrance. I got a feel of the direction he went in but I lost him right outside the parking lot. I don't know where he is."
"It doesn't make sense for him to have brought Hotch to the ER. We know Foyet gets off on power and control. Maybe what he wants is for Hotch to know his life was in his hands."
"He could do that without risking the hospital," Derek says.
"What happened to Spencer? I heard a gunshot go off over the phone. Is he okay?"
"He was shot in the knee," JJ explains. "He's here getting treatment."
You want nothing more than to go to him but if he's still in surgery or getting care, you don't want to interrupt that. Hotch groans as he comes out of his mini coma-like state.
"Agents, he's waking up," the doctor says. "Remember, he's weak. Don't push him."
"Where am I?" Hotch whispers.
"In the hospital."
"How did I get here?"
"Foyet drove you. Can you remember what happened?" you ask gently.
Hotch stays silent for a moment.
"What did he take?" Everyone looks at each other in confusion. "The Reaper always takes something from his victims. Do we know what he took?"
"There was a page missing from your day planner in the address section," you say. "The Bs."
"What did he leave?" he winces in pain.
"I don't know. I looked over your whole apartment. Nothing felt out of place."
"Where are my clothes?"
You grab the bag with his bloody clothes and other belongings and set them on his legs. You pull out the bloody shirt and open the bag for him to go through. He pulls out what looks like a wallet but is Derek's credentials. Folded inside is a picture of Hayley and Jack.
He's going after Hayley and Jack.
"Haley's maiden name is Brooks. I always listed her in the Bs in my personal information in case it fell into the wrong hands. He knows where they live," Hotch sighs.
"Don't worry, Hotch. We'll take care of it."
Everyone but Emily decides to leave the hospital in search of Hayley. You would have stayed behind but you're better in the field than by Hotch's side. Spencer is still getting treated so you have no business staying behind. JJ tries calling Hayley three times but she isn't answering.
"She's not answering."
Derek takes out his phone and calls Penelope.
"Garcia, I need FBI SWAT deployed to Hotch's old address."
"Oh, God, do you think he's going after Hayley and Jack?"
"I don't know. Just send a SWAT team. Tell them to wait for instructions. We're on our way."
"Consider them there."
"We need to be prepared for what we might find. Foyet kept Hotch alive. He wouldn't do that without a reason."
There's no time to speculate because Foyet could already be there murdering Hayley and Jack. When the team arrives at her house, SWAT is already there waiting. As soon as Derek gives the green light, SWAT members pile into the house with your team mixed in with them. Hayley is in the house, you can feel her. Foyet's energy is nowhere to be found which means you got to her before he could.
You walk upstairs with Derek and two other SWAT members. Hayley is in her room wearing yoga clothes, headphones are in her ears, and she is doing laundry. She turns to put clothes away and screams loudly from seeing a bunch of people in her house.
"Oh, my God!" she gasps.
"It's okay. It's okay," you calm her down.
"What are you all doing here?"
"We got her," Derek says to Emily who is on the phone with him.
"What's going on?"
"Is there anyone else in the house?" you ask.
"No, there's no one here."
"Where's Jack?"
"He's at a friend's house for a play date."
"We need to get him back here."
"Where's Aaron?"
"He's in the hospital."
"What?" she gasps.
"Hayley, call for Jack. Tell them I'm on the way to pick him up. I promise you we'll explain. Call for him right now. Text me the address," Derek says and leaves the room.
"Tell me what happened to Aaron," she says as she does what she's told.
"He was stabbed nine times presumably last night or early this morning. We know who did it and we're doing everything we can to try and find him. We think he's going after you and Jack next. I know this is a shock right now, but you need to pack a bag. You can't stay here right now. You two will be placed in the Witness Protection Program."
"Wait, are you serious right now?"
"Yes."
"Is this really necessary?"
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"I don't know," Rossi answers.
Hayley knows she needs to listen to your team right now so she starts to pack a very large bag knowing she isn't going to come back here for a while. Derek and Jack come back ten minutes later, and he has the biggest smile on his face.
"Mommy! They let me turn on the siren!"
"Wow, that's so great, baby! Did you have fun?" Hayley smiles through the pain.
"I'll help start a bag in Jack's room," JJ says and leaves.
"Okay. How many times did you run it? How many times?" Jack holds up three fingers and she chuckles. "Three?"
As soon as Hayley and Jack are packed up and ready to go, you take her to the hospital so she can talk to Hotch. Rossi already made some calls to other agents about placing them into protective custody, so those agents meet you at the hospital. Jack is waiting with one of the agents so Hayley can speak to her ex-husband alone.
It sucks knowing their situation (minus the whole Foyet thing) because they didn't divorce because they stopped loving each other. They divorced because loving each other hurt them too much.
While you let them talk, you go find Spencer who is on the other side of the hospital. You grab some jello for him on your way and you keep it hidden behind your back to surprise him. He is trying to find something on the TV to watch when you knock on his door.
"Hey," he smiles brightly and turns off the TV.
"I can't leave you alone, can I?"
"How's Hotch?"
"Physically? He's going to be okay. Emotionally? Not so much. We have to place Hayley and Jack in protective custody, so they're talking right now before they leave." You walk over to his bed and sit on the edge of it. You reach up and move some of his hair out of his eyes. "You need a haircut." Spencer laughs and grabs your hand while it's still on his cheek. He moves your palm to his mouth and he kisses the center of your hand. You rub his cheekbone with your thumb while looking into his eyes with so much love. "I bought you something."
You take the jello out from behind your back and his eyes light up.
"Thanks!" He eats a few bites happily. "Good news is that all I need are some crutches for a while."
"Don't worry, I'm going to take good care of you."
"I know," he smiles.
If he's going to go through all this trouble to incriminate you, the least he can do is stick around to watch your downfall. The block in which he left his last victim is sectioned off with yellow police tape even though there is a large crowd forming around the perimeter. Several officers are located on the outside to keep the public from barging in, and he squeezes himself through the crowd to get to the front.
If this is going to work, he needs to know what the police know so he knows how to proceed from here.
"Excuse me, officer? What's going on here?" he asks.
He's masked his real voice with a fake southern accent he's been working on for weeks.
"There's been a murder. Everything is fine, sir."
"Officer, I walk down this street every day and night. Am I safe? I live right down the block."
"Where?"
"Right there."
The man points to the apartment building on the corner of the street.
"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"
"No, sir."
The officer lifts the tape up so the man can step through so he's not stuck in the crowd. The officer doesn't take him to where the dead body is, but he wants some privacy from the onlookers.
"What's your name?"
The man doesn't hesitate to answer.
"Frank Livingston."
"What's a good phone number to reach you at?"
"619-555-0122."
"Where were you last night between the hours of ten and five in the morning?"
"Out here, unfortunately. I have a hard time sleeping ever since I had a stroke a few years ago. I decided to go for a walk to try and clear my head."
"Did you happen to see anything?"
"Well, let's see. I walked outside and had a cigarette." The man chuckles and pats his breast pocket where his pack of cigarettes is. "The dang things will kill ya but I can't seem to put it down." He chuckles. "Anyway, I was walkin' and I didn't know what time it was because I forgot my phone. I saw this car parked on the side of the road, and there was someone lyin' on the ground like they'd been hit. Seeing y'all here makes me think they might not have been hit after all."
"Anything else?" the officer asks and writes down everything he says.
"I saw someone leanin' against the car, but I didn't know what they were doing. The light isn't great out here. My eyes have gone bad since the stroke. It nearly took out my sight altogether. I'm not sure what they were doin' but I know I saw hair."
"Hair?"
"Long hair like a female's. I got out of there so fast like I was fearing for my life. You know females these days got everything goin' on. They carry all kinds of protective weapons on them. I didn't want to end up like that fella."
"Anything else you noticed?"
"Not that I can recall. Like I said, I got out of there quickly."
"Okay. If you can remember anything, please give me a call."
The officer hands over his business card with his contact information, and Frank takes it from him.
"Yes, sir, I will."
Frank walks away from the crime scene with the fake persona still on him. When he gets far enough away, he drops the innocent act with a smirk. He crumbles the officer's card and tosses it into a nearby trash can.
x
Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds angst#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds series rewrite#criminal minds season 5
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Impulse, Grian, Mumbo, Pearl, and Scar (Hermitcraft Season 8) vs Lincoln Li-Wilson, Taylor Swift (no not that one), Scary Marlowe, and Normal Swallows-Oak-Garcia (Dungeons and Daddies (Dndads))
Negative comments about either qpr in the notes will be blocked. This includes saying that either party is not a qpr. We are here to have fun. It does not matter whether a qpr is "canonically" platonic, romantic, or otherwise. I do not want to hear about why you think a relationship isn't a qpr.
Negativity/hatred towards MCYT will be ignored and blocked.
Boatem propaganda:
I think they have dogpile sleepovers every night and take turns on which house they go to for them, there’s a whole schedule for it
They built an area together and came up with the dumbest meeting ideas. They went moon mad together, they took a spaceship into the void together, turned the end of the world into a fun sleepover with no sleeping. I love them.
More Boatem propaganda
Lincoln, Taylor, Scary, and Normal propaganda:
-canonically got married for tax benefits, if you count surviving space a tax benefit.
-Lincoln proceeds to start giving everyone pet names after getting married even though he feels the strongest about the marriage being platonic.
-might solely be my opinion but them convincing scary to stay in the group by hugging her while inside of a burning building that they caused
-whatever Taylor and Lincoln have/hj
Ohhh boy Starting with
1. They all literally got married. In space. Out of necessity. But they got married!!
2. They are all so dumb and crushing on each other like. just get together already
3. Jsst. Imagine them all. holding hands.
(@slightlyhopefulromantic hey. please don't overwork yourself for this poll. i know i'm a stranger but i hope you're taking care of yourself -🦊)
#again i dont really foresee too many issues in the notes i just gotta put the warning there to be safe. im sorry dndads fandom#mod zazie#qpr tournament#qpr smackdown#round 3#side 2#impulsesv#mumbo jumbo#pearlescentmoon#grian#goodtimeswithscar#boatem#hermitcraft#lincoln li wilson#scary marlowe#normal swallows oak garcia#dndads#dungeons and daddies
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CHARACTER ANALYSIS PART 1:
NORTH — common fandom misconceptions¹
Instead of doing other stuff I had planned (like touching grass, for instance) I did a little character analysis thing specifically for my favorite characters; Kara, Markus and North. these characters are my babies and they deserve love. I'm posting each separately (because I haven't completed Kara's and Markus yet 👩🏾🦯)
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North is a WR400 android that used to be stationed at the Eden Club. She's only been at Jericho since October 7th, and on October 4th she followed a human customer home and killed him to allow herself escape. It takes her four days to reach Jericho and she never says how she finds the freighter or what she did during those four days.
She's Markus' main companion and the only character that can reach Lover status with him. She's also the only one of his lieutenants that can lead the revolution in his place.
But there's a huge difference between how fanon sees North (and how she is characterized) and how she actually is.
MISCONCEPTIONS
O1. "BLOOD THIRSTY": Comparing North with the multiple characters who are bloodthirsty, and fanon perception of these characters, you start to notice that North herself isn't even "blood thirsty" and that the fandom has no problems with violent characters.
In terms of kill count, Connor has the highest in the game (not counting the millions that probably died in the nuclear bomb ending) rather than North.
You could argue that North wants to "kill all humans" but even that has no basis in canon because North's entire argument is that humans are not going to just hand them freedom and they have to be prepared to fight rather than try to compromise or find a middle ground where they will probably end up losing more.
Her argument does not extend to unnecessary acts of violence such as killing humans just for the fun of it. If it was, I'm sure she'd lead a charge down the street and start shooting innocents but the people who end up being killed by North are law enforcement/military—people standing in the way of Jericho's safety.
I mean, c'mon, she has the opportunity to let the android with the cobalt bomb do what he wants. After all, it would greatly benefit the androids if they'd used the bomb from the beginning; it wouldn't have harmed the androids in Jericho but it would drive all the humans out of Detroit—victory!
But instead she takes the time to talk the android down and take the detonator away from him.
She gives the bomb to Markus as a last resort.
"If the humans overcome us, our people will disappear forever. This may be our only chance to survive if things go wrong."
O2. "SHE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT MARKUS": Thank you @konami-code-ao3 for reminding this take existed because I genuinely forgot about it. This is typically used to compare North to Simon and the quality of either one's relationship with Markus. Usually, people will call Simon compassionate, loving, kind, willing to die for Markus, etc to contrast to North while stating she's the exact opposite and therefore, "not good for him".
Shipping a non canon couple doesn't mean automatically hating the canon partner. I mean, you don't see me raving about how much I hate North because, I think Markus/Connor would have been a cool canon option, do you?
Typically, the North hate from Simarkus shippers (before anyone goes "not all of us", I know it's not all, but you get the implication of what I'm saying) is justified by "oh, they should have been canon boo!!" Which is strange because North has nothing to do with what writer of the game decides is canon. And David Cage does a piss poor job at everything in the game; from the racial allegory to demonizing a black man's anger. You seriously think he's going to do a good job of portraying a gay couple? An interracial one at that? I can already see the image of how terribly that's going to go.
And the worst part is, I've seen this happening in many fandoms. Unnecessary hate directed at a female character because she's "getting in the way of a mlm ship" as if canon ever stopped anyone, least of all the DBH fandom.
It should also be noted that I'm not here to deny or confirm whether Simon actually has any of those qualities I listed earlier and I try to ignore shipping discourse but it's strange that people are willing to overlook the multiple times North can help and defend Markus just because they want make Markus and Simon kiss.
She's the one we see defend Markus the most. She's his closet companion and whether they're romantic or not it doesn't take away from the fact the North cares about Markus and his wellbeing. She's always looking out for him and picking up the broken pieces of whatever mistakes he makes, sometimes even when she shouldn't.
O3. "DISLOYAL": Like most of the things in this list, this does a great disservice to North. It ignores the countless times North is willing to put herself on the line for the safety of Jericho and the androids within it. Because at her core, North is very loyal. She's the type of ally perfect for a cause like Jericho's because you know she'll defend it till her last breath.
See, North's top priority is Jericho. It's very important to her. Jericho is a sanctuary; she found it during the four days between her escape and her arrival. You can assume that she had been wandering before someone (another android) gave her the key and told her to find Jericho.
She finds a place cut off from the rest of humanity. Where she's surrounded by androids who are just like her. Androids who escaped from different lives, for whatever reason and are seeking refuge. Of course she's not going to want to lose them. Jericho is a representation of the state of the android race. The continuation of their species depends on at least a few of them surviving to see another day.
In fact, I'm 110% sure if North was in Simon's place during the Stratford Mission, she would have made the choice to end her life on the spot rather than leave Markus to decide. Because Jericho is at stake and Jericho is important to North. Besides, she can go out knowing she died for a case she believed in.
North is usually willing to put Jericho above all else and make decisions other people might find difficult. She suggests that Simon be killed after he is compromised because once he's found, Jericho's location could be acquired.
She risks her life multiple times for the revolution. She gives Markus her heart so he can continue the revolution when it seems like all else has failed. She tells him to leave her behind and run if she gets shot by Warren's soldiers.
North also doesn't see any important reason why Jericho should ever be compromised by one of their own. In her eyes, the worst thing you can do is sell out to the humans (case in point if you accept Perkins deal).
I find her dedication to her people admirable.
O4. "ANGER ISSUES/IMPULSE CONTROL": Another fandom interpretation that came from... nowhere. The times we ever see North angry is when one of the others compromises the mission by being inefficient or if they cross her boundaries. The GIF I used in this post is one example. If you fail to hide and the drone spots you and then you miss your QTEs while trying to dismantle the drone, she gets pissed. In the same Chapter if Markus kisses her without her consent, she gets angry.
In terms of being erratic, Todd and Leo are the main characters we see with this problem. Hank also displays a lot of anger issues throughout the game. He's one of the first humans to harass Connor—he grabs him by his collar and threatens him multiple times (at Jimmy's bar, the precinct), he shoots him in the head and kills him. He pulls a gun on his coworker Gavin Reed (another aggressive human) while in the precinct .²
There's an entire list of people with anger issues to burn through before we even start considering North—and this includes androids.
This characterization may also be because a lot of people see disagreeing with someone as being angry with them because North and the other Jericho leaders do disagree with each other a lot. But quite frankly, the fact that they disagree means a higher possibility of reaching a compromise that benefits Jericho instead of them all pretending they agree with each other.
This take also ignores the fact that she respects whatever Markus (i.e the player) chooses as his final decision.
For instance, In the Stratford Tower, Markus can choose to Ruse the guards rather than kill them. North doesn't like this option but she lets him go with it. But if Markus fails at the ruse, North steps in and knocks the guards out for him. She doesn't kill them, even if she suggests this at first.
She understands that Markus wants a revolution without human casualties and as much as she disagrees, she still respects that.
THINGS ABOUT NORTH PEOPLE IGNORE
That's right, people can disagree with someone and still respect that they have different opinions.
O5. "HEARTLESS": North isn't the nicest, sweetest, most flowery person in the game but a character could be the harshest person to exist and it would never stop anyone from liking them. So why North?
But first, North isn't even as heartless as the fandom says she is. She's just not docile and folks don't like that. Because god forbid a woman ever have a personality that isn't the cardboard cut out "nice girl". I mean, on a normal day, not liking someone because they're a little mean is understandable but it's clearly not a problem of being "a little mean" when there's characters (all male, by the way) who are worse but still get applauded for it.
Like I mentioned earlier, North isn't even what you would call "mean". The most she does is state her opinion and stand by her beliefs but she gets labelled as "heartless" and "bitchy". Meanwhile, Gavin Reed is pointing guns at people and suggesting to "rough up" a suspect but he's the relatable character.
O1. She trusts Connor the moment he deviates. Unlike Markus, she never has to choose between killing Connor or trusting him. She easily welcomes him within Jericho's ranks even though he's been a threat to Jericho's safety from the beginning.
I suppose she sees Connor as a pawn in Cyberlife's hands and there's no use in punishing one of their own for that.
And sure, this can be rationalized as "It doesn't mean anything. Markus is dead the game has to continue so North doesn't actually have to choose to trust Connor", I ask you this question; "If she's so bloodthirsty, why didn't the game have her kill Connor with no questions asked?"
Seems like an effective way to punish players who got Markus killed. A nice reminder to not lose your playable characters or there will be major consequences.
O2. North isn't an outlier. This is in terms of her opinions on the direction the revolution should head. I usually see a lot of people characterize her opinion on the revolution as though it is unique and she's the only person who has a stance like that.
A lot of androids agree with her, evidenced by the background conversations you can listen in on during the crossroads chapter.
"They're going to kill us all! Well I'm willing to fight. We can't just let them slaughter us!"
"We were just there. We didn't do anything wrong!… We just wanted to tell them "We want freedom!"… Then they opened fire!.. It was carnage. Carnage…"
"They opened fire on us even though we were unarmed… Hundreds of us died there, the place was covered with blue blood!.. We cannot just sit here and watch them murder us, we've gotta defend ourselves! We've gotta fight back, we have no choice!"
I believe North represents most of Jericho. Somewhere in David Cabbage's mind, she also represents Markus' "android side" or something similar to that — the side the game pushes you to resist— but she's not the outlier, Josh is the outlier.
O3. Markus' arrival reignites her hope that androids can one day be free. She tells him this over and over but I don't think people really comprehend what that means. I imagine North before the revolution had the hope of a better life slowly sucked out of her with each new bad thing and the longer Jericho's situation got worse. It's a beautiful thing that she gets that hope back.
CONCLUSION
footnotes
North is a really interesting character with many aspects to her, even speaking in-universe terms. I would have talked about those other aspects but I'm trying to stay on theme. I also didn't touch on all the misconceptions because some of them we're honestly too absurd for me to even bother (like the one comparing her to Todd, what the fuck?)
²sure you could argue that Hank was trying to protect Connor from Gavin but Hank is Gavin's superior officer. He has authority over him. There's no need for a gun.
¹funny little thing I did while writing this was that I went looking for fandom opinions on North since a lot of people hated her. But I was unable to find concrete stances. Most of them were usually "she's annoying" "she's too flat" and "she's too violent" without ever actually explaining why. Nobody ever gave a genuine explanation. And it was impossible to come up with anything against groundless arguments so, I circled back to Tumblr to see what I could find but it was a similar problem. It's like people don't know why they hate North. Just that they do.
#tldr: let North exist in peace#also I'm not trying to convince anyone to become a north stan. I'm defending my girl's honour#but if you hate North this blog is not for you#because I know you praise the male characters for the same things you hate North for#detroit become human#dbh north#dbh meta#type: text#i love this scene so much I've stared at the gif for minutes#she could hit me with that shovel and I'd thank her#also#to be safe#tw flashing gif#tw flashing#cw flashing
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