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spiderlily-w1tch-blog · 4 months

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𝙰𝚖𝚊𝚓𝚒𝚔𝚒 𝚃𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒 - 𝙰𝙱𝙾 𝙿𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝙾𝚖𝚎𝚐𝚊

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

— — —

ft A!Kiri, A!Fatgum, A!Mirio, B!Midoriya, B!Nejire, B!Tsu; Pack Alpha!Tamaki

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own BNHA or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

WC: 1,885

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: probably cringey, 1(one) use of “Y/n”, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔦 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: I’m gonna be entirely honest, I don’t remember much about writing this one because I was high off my ass for most of it lmao unfortunately I’m also not super satisfied with this one but at least some of y’all seem to like this!

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

I panted as I bounced my hips back against Tamaki’s. He gripped my hips and used that as leverage to thrust his hips forward slightly, meeting my hips and letting his balls slap against Eijirou’s. Eijirou laid beneath me, his hands planted firmly on my tits, worshiping and laving over them with his rough tongue. Their scents enveloped me and hazed my mind further with their dominating and arousing scents mixing together, mingling with my own submissive and exultant one.

Both of their cocks slid hard and fast, in and out of me, filling me perfectly and stretching me with such a delicious burn. My eyes rolled to the back of my head when Tamaki rammed exactly into my cervix, making me lose sight of the rest of my pack.

Mirio, Izuku, Nejire, and Tsu all sat on the edge of my nest enjoying the show that our Alphas and I were putting on after already having had their rounds of pleasure with me. Each of their scents clung to me and permeated the air, filling it with the smell of sex, lust, sweat, and slick. Suddenly Taishirou took his place and kneeled in front of me, lifting my head to see his warm smile, a contrast from just how roughly he prefers to ravish my body.

“You ready, ‘Mega?” He asked and once he received a nod, he guided my lips to his rock-hard dick. Taking him in, he wasted no time in thrusting in, immediately breaching my throat. I gagged and convulsed for only a moment before I recomposed myself and breathed through my nose, “Good job, sweetheart..” He groaned out, keeping his cock down my throat for another moment before pulling back and letting me bob my head over his shaft. He let out a satisfied scent and mixed his Alpha pheromones with the other two surrounding me like a cocoon.

I moaned out around his length when I felt one of Tamaki’s hands leave my waist and made contact with my clit. He rubbed in tight circles and even slid his fingers down to massage where my cunt was so stretched full.

“Fuck… Alpha, she feels amazing… Tastes fantastic, too..” I heard Ei growl out against my skin, making sure to be loud enough that Tamaki could hear him.

“You’re right.. Kami, she feels fantastic..” Tamaki growled out in response, his instincts having taken over and left no room for timidity, “You hear that, baby? Fuck, you’re so good for us, you know? Fuck- So fucking good..” The sound of his cursing sent waves of more arousal through me and straight to my stretched cunt. In lieu of being able to answer, I simply let out whorish moans around the thick cock penetrating my throat.

From all the different sensations, Eijirou and Tamaki both pounding into me from behind, Tama’s fingers furiously rubbing over my clit, and Tai’s cock filling my mouth, I was sent hurdling over the edge. My 3rd orgasm since we began wracked through me and made my slick gush around two of my mates. My scent was that of a satisfied Omega, happy and content to be filled so well by my Alphas.

“Fuuuck, even I felt that, sweetheart..” Tai’s accented voice called from above me, his hand stroking over my hair to soothe me from my heightened senses. Tama’s fingers still slid over my clit but they let up a bit. Though the assault on my insides never ceased, I felt the base of Tama and Ei’s cocks begin to swell, signaling that their knots were forming. It seemed I wasn’t the only one to notice as I heard a short whine from the edge of my nest.

From his position below me, I felt Ei turn his head at the sound. ‘Must have been Izuku, then,’ my muddled mind was able to produce, the answer being confirmed when I smelled his wanton and desperate scent, practically begging for relief.

Glancing out the side of my eye, I could see Mirio take position behind his boyfriend and roughly slam into him, producing another loud whine, though this one was far lewder. Beside them, I could see Tsu ravaging Nejire’s pussy, her tongue likely buried deep inside her, reaching all of her sensitive spots. The sight of the rest of my pack, and partners, aroused me even further and had me focussing even more on the feeling of Tama and Ei’s growing knots.

Tama’s hand still on my waist gripped tighter as his pleasure grew from the feeling of his knot rubbing over the edge of my hole. His tight grip was sure to bruise but I was happy for that. More evidence that he’s who I belong to, such being reflected in my scent of happiness and longing. In my excitement, I circled my hips against my Alphas plowing into me.

“‘Mega.. Oh, Kami- ‘Mega, you feel so good. So good, my little Omega..” Tamaki started panting behind me. He leaned forward and pressed his chest against my back, never relenting his hard thrusts that reached the deepest parts of me, alongside Eijirou. His fingers started to work my clit harder again as he sucked and nipped at his Claim on my scent gland. He began to move upward, kissing up my jaw, and pressed a kiss to the apple of my cheek.

“My perfect little Omega.. Such a good girl.” He groaned into my ear, pressing a sweet, soft kiss to my temple. “Are you feeling good, Bunny?” He muttered softly, his sweetness persisting even though his Alpha instincts were in full effect.

“Mhmm! Mhmm!!” I cried out around Tai’s large cock that continued to bob in and out of my throat. The vibrations of my moans made Tai let out his own growled moans, keeping his hand steady, though gently, planted in my hair.

Tama pressed sweet, wet kisses to my scent gland again before he bit into it, right over his Claim, and sent another shockwave of pleasure through me, making me cry out as much as I could. I had been so focussed on the sensation of Tamaki laving over my scent gland and the dual cocks pounding into my fertile cunt that I hadn’t even realized Tai’s knot had formed. He made sure to never pop it inside my mouth but he continued to thrust into my mouth until I felt his hot cum shoot down my throat. He slid his cock out of my mouth and rested back on his haunches, panting as if he’d just run a marathon, and looking at me with lidded eyes filled with love. A scent of pure satisfaction emanated from him, making me chirp and purr in pride that I could properly satisfy my Alpha.

“Feel so perfect. So fucking perfect..” I felt, more than heard, Ei mumble around my nipple that he had clasped in his lips, staying cautious of his teeth. The more he sucked and groped at my tits, the more pleasure shot through my being. Tamaki’s thrusts got harder and faster as he approached his knot completely inflating. Ei cried out at the feeling of Tamaki’s cock dragging so hard and fast that it seemed to accelerate his knot’s growth.

The taste of Tai’s cum and the feeling of Ei’s assault on my breasts alongside Tamaki’s cock ramming into me with his head almost kissing my cervix had my eyes rolling to the back of my head as yet another orgasm claimed me, loud purrs vibrating my chest from the pleasure. My tightening cunt seemed to send Tama and Eiji hurdling to their end as they both popped their knots inside my cunt, almost immediately shooting their loads into me.

“Alpha!!!!” I screamed out in pleasure as I finally felt their hot seed filling me up and making my stomach swell even more from how full they made me. Not a single drop of their cum escaped from where both their knots were settled inside me, efficiently plugging me up and tying us together.

“You did so well, Y/n. Such a perfect Omega for us. You took all our cum inside you.” Tamaki said into my ear, his hand sliding up to where my stomach was bulging out, “Can you feel us? Right here. Our cum is all right here in your womb..” He muttered, pressing soothing kisses to his Claim which I could only assume was an angry red from his bite. A scent of satisfaction, happiness, and joy rolled off me in waves, accompanied by content purring and small chirps.

“Wanna be good.. Wanna be good for you.. Alpha..” I weakly muttered, turning my head to capture his lips in a wet, sloppy kiss. I faintly recognized Ei’s hands shifting to run soothingly up and down my sides, making sure to lightly massage any sore spots from rougher treatment, the softness shifting my purr from one of simple contentment to pure happiness from my Alpha caring for me.

“And you’re perfect, Omega. So, so perfect.” Tama responded, pressing another sweet kiss to my lips, “C’mere..” He started to shift us all gently to be laying on our sides, our legs tangled in a mess of limbs as their knots were still firmly locked inside me. At even the slightest movement, I whimpered in overstimulation from my abused cunt, still stretched almost too full.

At hearing my whimper, all of my pack immediately had their attention zeroed in on me. Their instincts were all screaming to protect me and ensure I’m alright. Sweet, soothing kisses were pressed to my shoulder and face by Tamaki and Eiji respectively as we finally got settled.

Only once Tamaki, our Head Alpha, gave the okay, did the rest of our pack move in to form a cuddle pile. Tai slid behind Ei and comfortably fit himself against his back, wrapping his long arm all the way around to hold Tamaki’s waist, using his other hand to reach and stroke my hair.

Nejire and Tsu curled up by our heads, Tai’s head ending up laid over Nejire’s stomach and Tsu laying mirroring her girlfriend, her fingers stroking lightly over my arm. They both pressed soft kisses to the top of my head and let out soothing chirps which I automatically returned.

Miri laid on his back, his side pressing against Tama with his head resting on Tsu’s thighs. Izu quickly moved to get supplies we would need to clean up and recover before slotting himself into Miri’s side, nestling into him and happily breathing his scent.

The combined scents of my pack and the sound of a collective purring all lulled me into a sense of security and calmness. Happiness wafted through the air in my scent, being met with happiness and love from the different scents surrounding me.

“My perfect little Omega,” Tamaki whispered, his instincts calming and letting his timidity resurface, though it seemed to be drowned out by exhaustion, happiness, and his ambient instincts to care for his Omega. I let out an answering chirp and rubbed over his head which he nestled into the crook of my neck, laying soft kisses to his Claim.

I let out another chirp of happiness to my Mates and my pack which they all readily returned before I drifted off into a comfortable sleep.

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

@frosch-thefrog

#tw public sex #tw exhibitionism #cw public sex #cw exhibitionism #abo dynamics #alpha x omega #amajiki tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #spiderlily spells

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womburt · 2 years

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You are a stellar writer. I'm picky with x reader content, because the genre at times is lacking in craftsmanship, but yours really is something. I look forward to seeing more from you.

Assuming requests are open currently, could you try your hand at writing Bdubs falling for the reader after what started as a rivalry? He challenges them first because something about it feels right, only to later find out that it wasn't jealousy provoking him to spend more time with- or even just thinking about- them, and then it's too late? Bonus points if he ends up 'winning' because that's cute <3

If requests are, in fact, not open, instead please do me the favor of having a good day and giving yourself a pat on the back for prior work well done! ^^

Talk Too Much; C. Bdubs x Reader

Anon! My heart-

Consider my back patted! You are too freaking kind :’-)

I’m not sure if this was exactly what you wanted, but I got a lil carried away and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out, hope you enjoy regardless <3

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Early morning was Bdub’s favorite time of day to build. The Hermits were quiet, only just beginning to rise from their slumbers. The air was still cool enough to keep him comfortable, with the rising sun providing just enough warmth to keep him from being cold. And the lighting was just fantastic. He truly couldn't ask for a better environment when it came to constructing one of his massive projects.

The man found himself lost in his work, a pleasant smile gracing his lips. Bdubs moved around his work leisurely, adding stone where he felt it was missing, taking away other blocks he felt were overused. This was his routine - nitpicking all the little details to construct one beautiful creation.

He was so caught up in the process that Bdubs didn't notice a figure approaching.

“Morning Bubbles”

Bdubs yelped dramatically and jumped nearly a foot into the air. He was barely able to catch his balance on his way back down, leaning against a wall of his monolith for support. Bdubs caught his breath, his heart racing as a side effect of the surprise. His wide eyes searched for the source of his shock.

Y/n was standing a few feet in front of him, mouth twisted into a smirk and pose relaxed. They waved at him nonchalantly, chuckling at his overreaction.

“Damnit Y/n!” Bdubs couldn't help but scold, hands clenched into fists at his sides. He was lucky he hadn't fallen over and hurt himself, and he made sure to tell Y/n such.

“You can't just sneak up on a man like that!”

Y/n shrugged and wandered closer to Bdubs. They had to tilt their head up as they did so, as he was situated on higher ground than they.

“You survived. Whatcha’ making?”

Bdubs scoffed at their indifference, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘Some nerve they had disrupting his morning build-time and then hardly acknowledging his near-death.’

“None of your business.” he answered like a child. If they were going to be annoying, then two could play that game. Bdubs turned away from them and continued work on his creation, missing the way that their eyebrow twitched upward at him.

Since Y/n had joined the server, Bdubs had not had a moment of peace around them. It seemed whenever they came around, his shoulders tensed and heart rate heightened. He often found himself tripping over his feet, making silly mistakes he’d never otherwise make.

Bdubs knew that somehow it had to be their fault.

“Well it looks cool.” Y/n spoke up again, startling Bdubs into setting down a bit of diorite in the wrong spot. He groaned at the thought of picking it back up, it had been heavy enough as is. Bdubs drew his mouth into a thin line before spinning around on his heels.

“I’ve got a challenge for you!” He announced, pointing a finger at them like a stern mother reprimanding her child.

Y/n looked up at him the same way they had before, stance relaxed and lips smirking mischievously. Their head was tilted now, prompting him to go on with his challenge. Bdubs complied.

“I bet you couldn't keep your mouth shut for a whole day!” Bdubs declared, smiling smugly at them.

There was a beat of silence as Y/n opened their mouth the retort, but then paused, closing it again. They gave Bdubs a look, eyes narrowed and looked pointed, as if to ask something.

Bdubs rested his hands on his hips and tried to read their expression.

“What do you get out of this?” He asked for them, heart swelling with pride when they nodded their head in affirmation of his interpretation. Bdubs thought about it for a second before answering.

“If you manage to keep your mouth shut for a whole day, then I will give you all of the diamonds I have in my pockets.”

Y/n looked from Bdubs’ eyes, to his pockets, and back again, not-so-subtly asking him to spill them.

“Oh alright,” the builder sighed, reaching in to pull out whatever was inside. A few flowers fell onto the floor, one or two sticks, some bits of redstone, (what he planned to do with that, Y/n did not know), and finally: three shiny blue diamonds.

Y/n debated the deal for a second, ignoring how Bdubs tapped his foot impatiently. Finally, they nodded their agreement, holding their hand out for Bdubs to shake.

“Perfect.” the man in question took their hand without a moment's hesitation, shaking it firmly and sealing the deal with a toothy grin.

As it turned out, staying silent on Hermitcraft was a lot harder than Y/n originally anticipated.

They hadn't realized just how much time they spent interacting with their fellow hermits, asking for help or making mindless conversation. Without their voice, they felt hollow.

“Hello Y/n! Do you have a minute?”

They looked toward whoever had asked the question, catching sight of a woman attached to the Australian accent. Pearl waved enthusiastically, her movements hesitating when she noticed a man in a mossy green ensemble close behind her friend.

“Bdubs?” Pearl asked, unused to seeing the man willingly near Y/n. Their strange rivalry was famous on the server. The only time that Y/n and Bdubs were ever seen together, were when the former wanted to bother the latter with their presence. Bdubs being the one to follow Y/n around was…unnatural.

“Hello Pearl! Don't mind me, I’m just hanging around to make sure Y/n fulfills their part of our deal.” Bdubs smiled deviously, elbowing aforementioned hermit in the ribs. Y/n nearly doubled-over, clutching at their side from the pain. They opened their mouth to complain, but made eye contact with two large brown orbs, anxiously waiting for them to slip up.

Y/n shut their mouth and pouted, looking instead to Pearl. They smiled at her, trying to communicate their availability silently.

“Right…I was wondering if you had any of these materials? I'm running low,” Pearl asked, pulling a list out of her back pocket. Y/n looked it over quickly, noting a few resources in their head that they knew they had stockpiled back at their base.

They nodded at Pearl, waving her in the direction of their home to supply her with their extra materials. Pearl raised an eyebrow at their silence, but did not ask any questions, following her friend with a shrug of her shoulders. Bdubs offered no explanation, too busy scheming his next attempt to get them to break.

“Watch out! Incoming!”

Y/n glanced in the direction of the warning, coming nealy face-to-face with a pink axolotl. They quickly ducked down, but stuck their hands in the air to catch the flailing salamander. Catching hold of the creature just in time, Y/n tucked it into their chest as the force of the amphibian sent them both toppling to the ground. Y/n held in a shout as they landed on their backside, sure that it would be bruised when they looked later.

“Oh my! I’m sorry Y/n! I tripped and lost control of my product!” Joe Hills approached them with an exasperated look on his face. His glasses were twisted in a way that evidenced his story, they’d only ever seen Joe disheveled like this when he did something clumsy.

He was staring at them with those sad eyes that Joe gave whenever he messed up. Y/n felt a pang in their heart and opened their mouth to reassure him that it was alright.

They paused upun catching sight of Bdubs. He was standing behind Joe, a devious expression on his face, like he was waiting for y/n to screw up.

Oh yeah.

Y/n quickly shut their mouth again, glaring at the moss man who muttered his disapproval when they remembered his challenge. Focusing again on Joe, Y/n handed the axolotl back to him. They softened their gaze to hopefully get across that it was all no big deal.

“Well thanks for catching her! I’m gonna go get her to the shop now, If you ever need an amphibian companion, you know where to go!”

Joe paid no mind to their silence, unsurprised by any Hermitcraft antics. He stuck the axolotl back into the bucket it must've slipped out of, and continued on his way. Y/n watched him leave, ignoring Bdubs’ snickers behind them.

By the end of the day, Y/n was shocked they hadn’t made any enemies out of their friends.

They’d tried their best to smile their way through every interaction, and for the most part, it worked. When Tango had asked them to be a test subject for his newest redtone machine, they’d gritted their teeth and done it. In the afternoon, Zed asked for their help with one of his advancements, and they’d quietly suffered an onslaught of arrows through his nether portal. And when Gem had asked for help organizing the chest monster she'd created at her guardian farm, Y/n had bit their lip and got to work.

Bdubs trailed along the whole time, making no effort to explain their situation to their friends. If Y/n didn't know any better, they’d say he encouraged the Hermits to ask more questions and in order to instigate a verbal response from them.

‘Well it didn't work,’ they thought to themself victoriously, making their way back to their base, their mossy counterpart close behind. The sun was getting ready to set now, and in a few minutes Y/n would win the challenge.

“Y/n! Don't you wanna gloat? Tell me I lost? Tell me something!” Bdubs prodded, catching up to them and poking them in the side. Y/n smiled at him smugly, ignoring his requests.

Bdubs could feel himself shrink. He’d spent the entire day with a silent Y/n, and somehow he wasn't satisfied.

When he’d proposed the challenge that morning, Bdubs had assumed it would be a win-win situation. Either Y/n wouldn't bother him all day (and he wouldn't have to worry about his racing heartbeat and sweaty palms), or he could rub it in their face that they coudn’t handle staying quiet.

But now, as he walked beside them, Bdubs realized their silence had done nothing but make him more anxious. His hands were still sweaty, his heart rate was still way too fast, and worst of all: he hadn’t heard their wonderful voice since early that morning.

“Oh come on Y/n!”

They were suddenly stopped in place as Bdubs grabbed their arm. He held them tightly, effectively stopping them from walking any further. Y/ spun to face him, meeting eyes with his large dark irises. Bdubs seemed to be searching them, looking straight through their eyes and into their brain.

Y/n could feel themself fluster under his watch, shifting their weight around uncomfortably. Bdubs didn't lessen his staring, nor did he let go of their arm.

“I’m sorry for daring you okay? Just talk to me, I miss you.”

Y/n blinked at him in surprise, shocked to see a blanket of red wash over Bdubs’ cheeks. He finally glanced away from them, staring instead at his feet. His grip on their arm lightened a bit, though he didn't truly let go of them. Y/n held steady, watching as he blushed, digesting his admission.

“You miss me?” They finally muttered, voice raspy from lack of use.

Bdubs’ head shot up, a manic smile on his face. His eyes were wide with joy, and he dropped his hold on their arm. Y/n felt their heart drop as they realized what he’d done. They glanced to the west, seeing the sun was just starting to disappear beneath the horizon. He’d won.

“You tricked me!” They yelled at him, smacking him on his arm, not hard enough to bruise or anything, just enough to prove their point.

Bdubs yowled and stepped away from them, rubbing his arm sensitively. His face didn't change however, still displaying that triumphant look.

“And you fell for it! I win!” He celebrated from a few feet away, not wanting to risk being hit again.

Y/n felt their heart sink. A whole day of silence and nothing to show for it. Well, not physically any way. They couldn't help but feel embarrassed for losing the way they did. How stupid could they be? Believing Bdubs actually cared about them. Of course it had just been a tactic to win. They stuffed their hands into their pockets, turning on their heel to walk home.

Bdubs, who’d been in his own world, high on victory, finally opened his eyes to see Y/n stalking away. As quickly as it had disappeared, the racing of his heartbeat returned. They were leaving? After all that, they were just going to walk away?

“Y/n wait!”

Y/n felt him grab their arm again, finding themself yanked back into exactly the same position as before. He was staring at them again, this time with a big smile and inviting eyes.

Y/n found themself looking at the ground, avoiding his gaze at all costs. If they'd looked at him, they might have noticed that the blush on his cheeks had yet to disappear.

They felt a pressure on their jaw as their head was guided back up. Y/n was about to tease him when he leaned in and laid his lips on theirs.

Taken aback, Y/n shot wide open, their whole body freezing up. After only a second, they melted into his embrace, wrapping their arms around his neck. His quickly found their waist, playing with the fabric of their shirt. Y/n’s eyes fluttered closed, allowing themself to enjoy the kiss.

When they'd both run out of air, Y/n, begrudgingly, pulled away. Bdubs chased after them, placing one final pack to their lips before resting his forehead against theirs. They both breathed against each other, marinating in the moment.

“You talk too much,” Bdubs finally spoke up with a smirk, only to be met by a smack to the chest. He yelped again, pouting as Y/n laughed at him. They pulled away from him, not missing the way Bdubs’ was slow to let them go.

“I’d watch your mouth if I were you,” Y/n warned, a mischievous smile gracing their lips. They began the rest of the walk back home, looking back when Bdubs didn’t immediately follow them.

“You coming?” They asked teasingly, Bdubs quickly rushing toward them. He scooped up their hand in a second, blushing wildly. Wandering in the direction of the spawn village, the pair couldn't wait to see what the other Hermits would say when they saw their interlocked hands.

#bdubs x reader #bdoubleo100 x reader #bdoubleo100 #bdubs #hermitcraft x reader #mcyt x reader #hermitcraft #mcyt

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dwellordream · 1 year

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thoughts on TLOU Episode 1

as some of you may know, I am a huge fan of the game and of post-apoc fiction in general. i was very excited for the TV and the casting announcements, since i loved Bella Ramsey in The Worst Witch and Becoming Elizabeth.

I think the decision to make the prologue set in 2003 as opposed to 2013 was a smart choice in setting. Not only does it make the events of the show begin in 2023 when we jump 20 years in time, it also sets the outbreak as very close to 9/11 and in the midst of the War on Terror and a time of heightened fear, paranoia, and general government overreach in America. We see that effect on Sarah throughout the first half of the episode.

They did a great job fleshing out Sarah. We got to see her on her own for a bit and I think they showed her as having a very sibling-like relationship with Joel, which hearkens back to him being a teen father in the game, though he’s obviously older here, since you can only de-age Pedro Pascal so much. Sarah has a lot of independence and snark and you can see her father’s influence on her personality.

Joel being a veteran of Desert Storm makes a lot of sense and explains his hyper-awareness and disregard for violence in some ways, especially since they’re translating video game combat to a TV show. The action effects were also fantastic, especially the running Infected, which looked even scarier than the game.

I loved the bait and switch with the girl survivor who looks a lot like a younger Ellie at the start of the flash-forward. It was a neat trick and showed the brutality of the world- but also how FEDRA sees themselves as humane peacekeepers, not fascist overlords.

The extended back and forth between Joel, Tess, and Ellie’s POV helped flesh Tess and Ellie out a lot right away. I liked that we got to see more of the inner workings of the Fireflies, and it was a treat to see Marlene’s actress from the game return. I really do hope we see more of her throughout the show. It took me longer to get used to Tess’ actress, since she’s a lot different in appearance from her game counterpart, but I think she did a nice job as well, especially her voice and physicality. She wasn’t just reduced to Joel’s girlfriend.

Ellie and Joel’s interactions so far are great. Bella Ramsey gave Ellie a lot of bite and smarts right away and I was worried they would soften Joel’s personality a lot, but he’s still very hostile and cold. While the ending of the episode felt a little rushed, I loved the overall ending sequence with the song and the rain and the slow pan over the ruined city.

In general, I loved how much color they still included in the show, rather than grey-toning everything, and I loved the tidbits of people lined up to send messages over the radio to relatives in other Quarantine Zones. It humanized the setting a lot.

#the last of us #word to the wise

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thenoseofdeath · 2 years

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This is a blog of my replay of the Uncharted series. I'll give my thoughts for each game as I go through them.

Apart from Uncharted 1 which I played a few years ago. I haven't replayed the others since they first came out so this'll be interesting

This entry gets a lot of hate and I can see why. The story is simple but decent and the game has good dialogue and solid Voice acting. The gameplay and controls however are a problem.

Aiming can be a pain, movement isn't as tight as you would want and climbing can be finicky. Now these weren't too much of a problem back in 2007 but they stick out like a sore thumb in 2022. Adding to those problems is the insane amount of combat encounters and you're left with a game that is very frustrating and annoying to play.

That being said. Combat was somehow still fun so it's not too bad I guess but I think I have a higher tolerance for these things.

Music was great, the game has nice sound design, the old PS3 era vibe is still there (I miss that) and the visuals are still really nice.

So even though the game annoyed me to a degree. I still enjoyed myself and I definitely wouldn't consider this a bad game. It's just old and dated.

This honestly should've gotten a remake instead of TLOU. It would've seriously benefited from it.

What can I say? Huh? What can I say?

This game is among my top 10 greatest video games of all time for a reason!

Top to bottom, from beginning to end. This game was insane all the way through. A god damn roller coaster ride!

My only complaint that this game is SO good that 13 years later, I STILL remember most of it. So the chance of re-experiencing those epic moments for the first time again just couldn't happen unfortunately.

Also had play on easy for final boss coz it was annoying but IDGAF

Regardless. This game is just as amazing as I remember and 60fps just elevates it further. Felt like it never left, man.

Story, characters, dialogue, voice acting, gameplay, level design, visuals, combat and set pieces.

I don't care if it has flaws. I love it all!

So I was never a big fan of this entry but this time is a bit different.

I enjoyed this a lot more than I did back on PS3. The first half didn't leave a great impression but it got better once you reach Yemmen and then it was fantastic from the Shipyard onwards. I absolutely loved the 2nd half and it pretty much saved the game for me.

That being said. I do have some problems with it. Particularly in the first half though some of those do show up in the 2nd half. It just isn't as noticeable.

-The way the levels are laid out

-Enemy placement

-How the guns feel

-Stealth feels very restrictive

-Hate the crosshair

-The A.I.

-The vibe

-Unfair Difficulty

It all just felt off and I wasn't feeling a lot of it.

Even things like Drakes animations which aren't always accurate to the present situation.

For example. Drakes running animation during combat or chase sequences are too relaxed and slow looking or during stealth he isn't exactly moving as stealthy. He's almost walking casually. Its like he does some of his actions half assed.

The other big problem was the difficulty. Look I'm all for a game wanting to challenge me and even make me feel overwhelmed as that can heighten the tension and make things more exciting which UC3 does but man do they go overboard with it.

Uncharted 1 & 2 had a system. The enemies were in front of you, others would creep on the side trying to flank you and then a new wave would come from behind. You were always behind cover and were able to defend yourself while they tried different tactics to lure you out. It was simple and effective.

Uncharted 3 said fuck all that. Lets have everyone come at you from all sides, then ramp up the difficulty to artificial levels by throwing 3 snipers, 3-4 armoured shotgunners, 2 unarmoured shotgunners, an rpg guy, a missle projectile guy, 3 fucking tanks and barely any cover. Call it a skill issue, I don't care. That shit is straight up unfair. A lot of times I felt like I got through that shit from just pure luck.

If they had just cut it down a LITTLE bit and gave me a bit of breathing room then I wouldn't be complaining as much.

With all that in mind though. I kinda liked it. Managing to take out huge waves of powerful enemies while being put in such an unfair situation is quite satisfying. It really makes you feel like a badass.

It works for the plot too. Drake being way in over his head is shown through gameplay and adds to the narrative so thats pretty cool.

Now onto the positives.

-Visuals are beautiful

-Set pieces are awesome

-Hand to hand combat is great

-Dialogue is still great

-Funniest entry so far

-Charlie is a great edition though you don't see him after the first quarter and he only appears in this entry so thats a bummer

-Music is good

-Puzzles were really good

Another thing I loved was all the subtle details to make the world feel more alive.

Drake put his hand on the wall while walking, parts of the environment would react to Drake's touch and that shit would vary in many ways. Granted they only happen once but it's still cool.

That 2nd half was just amazing and it really made me think more positively about this entry. I think when I first played it back on PS3, I was just so gutted by the negatives that I couldn't see the positives.

Is it UC2 level? No but its kinda close.

Good game!

I gotta admit. I really enjoyed this one. I wasn't a big fan of this entry back when it first came out. Had a lot of problems with it like the vibe, aspects of the story, no Chloe or Charlie and even things like gunplay and difficulty. Now Im not so sure why I wasn't feeling it.

The game is great. Controls are fantastic, and responsive, guns feel really good, level design is brilliant and parkour (as basic as it is) is really fun. Oh and the stealth is great. I'm so happy they fixed it. Uncharted 3 was so restrictive. Its like they looked at Uncharted 2 and thought "lets do this but better". Now you can actually stealth through many sections and not be forced into a gunfight. The areas are so well designed too so you have a ton of options to take em out.

Love it!

Now for the story. I really like the darker and more mature vibe they went with. Drake's decisions have actual consequences so its not your typical action hero story this time around and thats good. I personally wouldn't mind it if it was but its good that its different.

They put a bigger focus on the characters too and provided them with more depth than in past entries. Made them feel more down to earth rather than movie action heroes and I like that. It's good stuff.

I really like Sam too and I think he's a great edition to the cast. Rafe is also a really good villain and the best written out of the bunch. I still prefer Lazarevic from Uncharted 2 by miles.

Now as for problems? I don't have much tbh. I wish Chloe was in this but I can't see how they could've included her in so I get it.

I miss the supernatural aspect but I guess that would've worked against the more grounded take they went for here so it's fine I guess

I also hate that I couldn't get at least one hit on Nadine. I just wanted one good satisfying punch but nope. She walks away unscathed. I mean dude. You can't just have her kick me about like that and not give me the opportunity to enact some revenge. I want some payback god damnit!

Small spoiler but I wasn't really liking the whole destiny thing they were going for during one of the flashbacks. The whole "it runs in the family" thing kinda bothers me

It's not a big deal of course and it does make sense why Drake and Sam are so into history but still.

Anyway. That's about it with the negatives. There really isn't anything to complain about. Naughty Dog provided a solid and nicely paced ride that delivers on (almost) all fronts.

It's a fun action packed adventure with good puzzles, fantastic set pieces, gorgeous visuals and a really good story accompanied by some of the best performances in the gaming industry. Its the perfect send off for Nathan Drake and I had an absolute blast replaying it.

#Uncharted2 #Uncharted3 #Uncharted4 #UnchartedLostLegacy #Playstation #Playstation3 #Playatation4 #Playstation5 #PS3 #PS4 #PS5 #Gaming #Games #Video Games

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

Text

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 36: Pick and Choose

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 5 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: mild swearing, bit of violence ❧ Word Count: 6.2k

❧ In This Chapter: You start your new “job” in Alexandria, and Aaron and Daryl leave for their first recruitment trip while tensions heighten between Rick and wife-beater, Pete.

❧ A/N: I love this chapter because we get quite a bit of perspective from the reader about her struggle to adapt to the new world while still retaining the kindness and sensitivity she was born with. Also lots of other fun stuff in here. Enjoy!

“Knock, knock!” a peppy voice lilted from outside your house, followed by a light knocking against your front door in a musical pattern. “Time for school!”

“What the hell is that?” Daryl asked, his voice muffled from his face being sunken into his pillow.

You groaned before realizing whose mousy voice was ringing in your ears—Beverly. “Shit!” you yelled, throwing your blanket up and running to your dresser.

Daryl propped himself up on his arms, his hair a tangled mess from tossing and turning. “What’s happenin’?” he asked in a daze before rising up and beginning to put his clothes on in case of an emergency.

You stripped off your nightgown and began pulling on a pair of jeans. “It’s this other teacher, Bev. She’s here to take me to the classroom. God, I shouldn’t have slept in.” You yelped as you tripped over while trying to put your other pant leg on. Daryl rushed over to you to steady you. You were still in a haze from just waking up.

“(Y/N)! It’s Bev,” she yelled again.

You groaned. “Can you tell her I’ll be right down?”

Daryl was in the middle of buttoning up his shirt, surely more put-together than you were at the moment. “Yeah,” he said, not looking forward to meeting another Alexandrian.

He opened the door to the bright sunny day blinding his tired eyes, along with the equally bright smile of Bev. “Oh,” she said. “Hi, um… Derek, right?”

Daryl frowned. “Daryl,” he corrected her gruffly. It was an honest mistake, but Daryl did not feel like a Derek. He was a Daryl through and through.

“Ah, yes, Daryl. Sorry, bad with names.” She outstretched her hand. “I’m Beverly, but everyone calls me Bev.”

Daryl looked at her hand hesitantly before forcing himself to shake it.

Bev peered behind Daryl’s broad frame. “Is (Y/N) here? I’m supposed to take her to her class this morning.”

“I’m here!” you panted, jogging down the stairs with a red knit sweater pulled over your white button-up shirt. “Sorry, I must’ve lost track of time.”

It wasn’t really a lie, you had, in fact, not been keeping track of time since the prison.

“No problem,” she said. “We’re actually going to be right on time, the classroom’s just across the street.”

You sighed. “Great.” You quickly ran into the kitchen to grab your textbooks from the counter, then hurriedly ran back to the door.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Daryl.”

He only grunted in acknowledgement.

You surprised him by kissing him on the cheek in front of Bev. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“I’m goin’ to Aaron’s,” he replied, stiffening up at your public display of affection. “We’re gonna work on the bike.”

“Okay, have fun.”

“Everyone,” Bev announced as she led you into the “classroom” (it was actually a garage in one of the houses), “this is our new teacher, Miss (L/N).”

You took a deep breath before awkwardly waving to the seven children sitting in desks before you. Their ages ranged rather widely, from one appearing to be five to another about twelve. “Hello,” you said.

They all looked at you like you were the weird kid. It felt just like middle school again.

“Now, I want everyone to be extra nice to Miss (L/N) because it’s her first day and she’s never taught before. Think we can do that?”

“Yes, Miss Beverly,” all the children said in imperfect unison, some in a more lackluster tone than the others.

“Fantastic,” she said before turning to you. “They’re all yours. I left the lesson plan and the schedule on your desk.”

When Bev left you, you stood silently in front of seven kids who looked either intrigued by you or completely annoyed with your sudden presence.

“Um, so…” You looked behind you at the desk and picked up the sheet of paper with the classroom schedule on it It read:

9am-10am: science class

10am-11am: history class

11am-11:30am: lunchtime

11:30am-12:30pm: math class

12:30pm-1:30pm: literature class

It seemed simple enough.

“Okay, everyone,” you announced, “why don’t we skip science class today and jump into introductions?”

You weren’t intending on teaching much today. You needed to get into the swing of things, first.

The class mostly looked at you ambivalently, except for one little girl who was particularly vibrant. She sat at the very front of the classroom, her hands folded neatly on her desk, and her neat blonde hair pinned back with two pink butterfly-shaped barrettes on either side of her head. “We’re skipping science?”

You sighed. “Well, just for today.” You walked back to the portable whiteboard to write your name in big letters. “For introductions, let’s um…” You grabbed a different colored pen and began writing a template for the others to follow. “I want you all to write down your name, your age, your favorite color…” You spoke slowly as you wrote the phrases down on the whiteboard. “Your hobbies, your favorite animal… and, um…” You paused as you thought of something else.

“What we want to be when we grow up?” the little blonde girl asked.

You frowned as you faced the whiteboard. “Sure,” you said, trying to be positive. “What you want to be when you grow up. We’ll start with those things.”

Luckily, all the kids already had their own notebooks and pencils to write their introductions. You wrote your information on the whiteboard, too. It was odd to answer such juvenile questions again. Stepping back to look at your answers, you read it back in your head:

Name: (Y/N) (L/N)

Age: 28 (give or take—and you preferred to take)

Favorite color: pink and purple

Hobbies: reading (you couldn’t think of anything else, though you used to have many more hobbies when you had the time for them)

Favorite animal: cats and rabbits

What you want to be when you grow up: librarian (you wrote this with a cheeky grin)

“Okay, who wants to share first?”

You could already tell who your teacher’s pet was going to be—she shot her hand up swiftly.

You nodded to her. “Go ahead.”

She raised herself from her seat and stood next to you at the front of the class. You weren’t expecting that much effort, but you supposed it was welcome.

You sat at your desk to listen to her.

“My name is Emily Fitzgerald. I am seven years old and my favorite color is pink. My hobbies include playing with Barbies and drawing butterflies. My favorite animal is the butterfly and I want to be a butterfly conservationist when I grow up.” She turned to smile at you. “Thank you, Miss (L/N).”

You looked at her with wide eyes. “Thank you, Emily.”

You liked her. You would have thought she was the most annoying kid in the world if you were a kid in her class, but she was at least interested in school, which made your job easier.

The rest of the class didn’t seem interested in volunteering, so you just chose randomly, starting with the one who seemed the least interested in introductions: twelve-year-old Seth Bishop.

He answered all the questions ironically, and tossed his paper haphazardly on your desk when he finished. You gave him the benefit of the doubt by not making a big deal of it, but if he kept acting that way you might have a little problem.

In contrast, one of the sweeter boys in the class was Sam Anderson. He was a bit more shy but still friendly enough to help you find the whiteboard eraser. You knew he was Jessie and the surgeon Pete’s son, and Carol had told you that she strongly suspected Pete was an alcoholic who beat his wife and sons. You would be sure to keep a close eye on Sam for that reason.

There were four other students: twins Kevin and Keely Hackett, Rachel Walton, and Steven Gibson. Basic names, easy enough to remember, you thought.

Things went relatively smoothly the rest of the day. You went over preliminary subject matter for the other “classes.” You didn’t much care for math, so you essentially just went over the very first chapter in your math book which involved a review of the basics. You were sure you were boring the older students, but you needed the refresher yourself.

History was easier for you, but you had no idea where to start. The book you were using was on world history, so it essentially covered everything, but a cursory look at it told you it was not the best history textbook. You would have to find another book down the line, maybe if you ever got to scavenge a school.

The literature portion of the day was your favorite because you actually had some idea of what you were doing. The book had a selection of works from poetry to short stories, as well as sections on grammar and literary devices. That was your bag, so you ran with it.

The kids seemed the most intrigued when you assigned each one a different book to read. Though you yourself hated the idea of assigned reading, you thought it would be a good way to get to know the students and bond over books you, too, had read.

Alexandria didn’t have a library, but the classroom did have a lot of books tucked away in a bookshelf in the corner by the garage door, so it worked out just fine.

At the end of the day, Bev came to check up on you. She came just as Emily was chatting with you.

“Are we going to write an essay for our assigned book, Miss (L/N)?”

“I actually haven’t thought about that yet, Emily. I might just have you do a little presentation for it when you’re done, maybe make a poster for extra credit.”

Emily’s big blue eyes widened at that. “I think I’ll make a poster, then. Thanks, Miss (L/N).”

You nodded as you erased the whiteboard. “No problem, Emily. See you Wednesday.”

“Hello, there,” Bev said, standing in the doorway and rustling up Emily’s hair as she squeezed past her. “How’d the first day go?”

“Pretty good, I think,” you sighed, putting the kids’ textbooks away. “Only thing I didn’t really understand how to teach was the math, and we didn’t get to science yet because we were doing introductions for the first hour, but overall I think it went well.”

Bev nodded. “No pressure to get to science. The kids don’t really like it because we don’t have any science equipment to make it more interactive. It’s something we’re working on.”

An idea popped in your head as you organized the books in the bookshelf. “You know,” you began, “my friend, Glenn, is one of the new runners. He’s actually planning on going on a run tomorrow. I bet he’d be willing to do a run to a school or something, maybe pick up some supplies.”

Bev looked at you curiously. “Really?”

“Really. Actually, I’m not terrible out there myself, I could organize my own run, maybe.”

Though you really liked Alexandria, you felt kind of useless the last few days since you arrived. Daryl and some other people in your group had gone out since, and you wanted to be more useful in that way. If you could even lead your own run, that would be a dream. Daryl had led them, and so did Glenn and Rick. You didn’t see why you couldn’t, though you knew Daryl would be a tough sell.

“I’m not sure about that, (Y/N).” She hesitated for a moment. “In fact, I think you should try to lay low with that kind of thing as much as possible for now.”

You furrowed your brow, genuinely confused. “Why?”

“Well, it’s just that… everyone knows about your group and how they’ve been on the road for a while. Now that you’re teaching their kids, I bet a lot of the parents would want to know you’re… adjusting to Alexandria.”

You took a deep breath. “I don’t see why I can’t do something for the community. Isn’t that a part of ‘adjusting’?”

Bev nodded nervously. “Oh, it is, but it’s not really a teacher thing. I mean, people are already—” She cut herself off as she realized what she was about to say.

You tilted your head. “Already what?”

“Well, um… they’re already a little wary of Daryl the most out of all of you, and you being with him… I don’t know. I’m not saying I agree with them or anything, but there’s a few people who aren’t so happy you’re teaching their kids, that’s all.”

You scoffed. “Because I’m with Daryl?”

She cleared her throat. “Well, yes. Like I said, though, I don’t agree with them. I’m sure he’s a nice guy, and you seem lovely. I’m sure they’ll come around eventually.”

You sighed. “I guess I’ll just ask Glenn.”

Bev nodded solemnly, as if feeling guilty for raining on your parade.

Her sadness didn't last long because soon she remembered one of the reasons she came to see you after your class.

"Hey," she began to say as she looked down to her side and began rummaging through her satchel, "I almost forgot. Deanna wanted me to give this to you. She wanted to give it to you yourself but she's been really busy lately."

Bev pulled out a dark brown leather-bound journal with a matching strap wrapping around it. Your eyes widened when she handed it to you.

"Wow," you said, taking in the rich, smooth feeling of the leather against your palm.

Bev smiled. "She mentioned that you were looking for a new journal."

You hummed in acknowledgement as you loosened the strap and flipped open to the first page, the cream-colored paper lined with a message scrawled in beautiful, languid cursive:

(Y/N)—

Tell your stories, write them down. Preserve our history like you once did. After all, you're apart of it.

Deanna Monroe

You stopped by Aaron’s after school ended, and you were pleasantly surprised to see Aaron helping Daryl put the bike together. It made your heart swell, seeing the two people you cared most about in the world engaging what you would certainly call “male bonding.”

“How’s it goin’, grease monkeys?” you asked as you walked into the open garage, hardly able to hold back your smile.

Daryl looked up at you from the bike, his face and hands covered in grease. “Not bad,” he said. “Almost got this thing up and runnin’.”

You crossed your arms as you examined the beast. Aaron stood next to you wiping his hands.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” he asked.

You scoffed playfully. “More like Bride of Frankenstein. I like it. It’s very Daryl.”

He grunted at you from behind the bike as he tinkered with it.

“Should be ready by tomorrow,” Aaron said. “How was your first day of school?” He snickered at you teasingly.

“Pretty good, most of the kids are nice. A few I’m going to have to win over, I think. Mostly the boys. I swear, little boys are the worst.”

Aaron snorted. “Glad I didn’t have you for a teacher. You would’ve hated me.”

“That’s right, I would’ve. Instead I just tolerated you as a brother.”

He threw his oily rag at you, and you held your hands up to block it from hitting your face.

“Not funny,” he said, pointing his finger at you and holding back his laughter as you made an exaggerated “yuck” face.

Just then, Eric opened the door and waved to you. “Hey, guys,” he said. “The tea’s ready.”

Daryl was so focused on his bike that he skipped out on teatime, but you and Aaron indulged.

“What kind of tea is this again?” you asked before taking a sip as you sat at the kitchen counter.

“White peony,” Eric said in an exaggerated English accent. “You like it?”

“I do, I’ve always liked tea better than coffee. Thank you.”

“Aaron told me that. Said you get the jitters when you drink coffee.”

You giggled. “Guilty as charged.”

“She’s the most sensitive person I know,” said Aaron before taking a sip. “She can’t even have two glasses of champagne before getting tipsy.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not sensitive.”

Eric and Aaron exchanged a look and began breaking out into laughter. You choked a little on your tea as you began to laugh, too.

“Okay, okay,” you said, wiping your face with your hand. “Maybe I’m a little sensitive. Aaron is too, though.”

“Well, I’ll leave you two sensitive babies alone,” Eric said. “I’ve got some gardening to do.” He left a chaste kiss on Aaron’s lips before heading out into the backyard.

You looked back at him and smiled. “He’s perfect for you,” you said to your brother. “I’m so glad you found him.”

Aaron took your hand in his. “It means so much to hear you say that. All this time I was worried that…”

You raised an eyebrow. “That I’d be like Mom?”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

You shook your head as you thought of your mother, always so intolerant of others. “You know I’m not like that.”

“I know,” he assured you. “You’ve always been there for me.”

He let go of your hand and looked down into his cup of tea before speaking again. “I never got to apologize… for never paying you back. I’m sorry, I really am.”

You scoffed. “Aaron, thank you for apologizing, but that doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I had the money,” he continued. “I—I had it.” He laughed a little as he remembered that day. “The day before things went bad, I told myself I was going to surprise you the next day and show up with the money in my hands.” He shook his head and looked at you “I always thought there would be more time.”

You took his hand in yours. “Look at us now, we’re together again. By some miracle, we found each other. We have more time now. All the time in the world. No money, no deadlines… no more trying to be something you’re not. This is a new start. It’s not that what happened before didn't matter, or that we should forget it—it’s that we can pick and choose what we take from our old lives and bring into our new ones.”

Aaron lowered his head as he began to sniffle. “Damnit, (Y/N),” he said. “Maybe I really am sensitive.”

You laughed and brought him in for a hug. “I love you.” Your voice was shaky as you felt your own tears coming on. “Now I’m crying too.”

You both laughed and cried in each other’s arms. “I love you too, crybaby.”

That night, you planned on making dinner for Daryl since he worked so hard all day on his bike.

As he sat in the living room relaxing (at your insistence, of course), you chopped up the ingredients for your stir fry as the rice cooked. Eric picked a basket of fresh vegetables from his garden, and it happened to have most of the things you needed for a vegetarian stir fry, minus the soybeans for tofu.

Still, you were so excited to cook in a real kitchen for the first time since the Greene farm.

It felt oddly domestic, Daryl sitting on the lounge chair reading motorcycle manuals as you cooked dinner for him in the kitchen. If your women’s studies professor saw you now, she might throw a hardback copy of The Feminine Mystique at your face.

In any case, you were happy, and Daryl didn’t expect you to cook for him. In fact, it took a lot of convincing to get him to let you cook for him. He hardly ever wanted you to lift a finger for him. He didn’t think he even deserved it. You always tried to show him, though, that he did.

“Dinner’s ready!” you called to him as you set Daryl’s already made plate on the table. You tried to use as little electricity as possible, so you lit the room with several candles, which also served to create a more relaxing, romantic mood that you quite enjoyed.

He sat down in his chair with a huff and began shoveling his food into his mouth before you even sat down across from him.

“Is it good?” you asked with a giggle at his eagerness.

He grunted. “Could use some meat, but it’s good.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ve never put meat in it before and I’m not about to start now. Not even for you.”

He smirked as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Just teasin’ ya. It’s great. Wouldn’t change a thing.”

You blushed. “Thank you. I’ve always wanted to cook for you like this, you know. Back in the day, I’d invite all my friends over and cook them something. It was my way of telling them I loved them, I think.”

“Ain’t gotta cook for me,” he said. “I like it when ya do, but I don’t expect ya to.”

You shrugged, taking another bite of your stir fry. “I know, but I like doing it. I’m going to fatten you up if it’s the last thing I do.”

He scoffed. “Whatever you say.”

Daryl forcibly helped you with the dishes after dinner, and there wasn’t any stopping him. He even took the trash out.

You weren’t going to lie, you loved Daryl’s domestic side. The rare glimpses you saw of it always made your heart beat a little faster, and now that you lived in a real house together, you were sure you were at risk of going into cardiac arrest.

That night in bed, he held you so close to him, your back pressed up tightly against his bare chest and his arms keeping you there.

He left a series of kisses on your shoulder before speaking to you softly in the dimly lit room. “The bike’s all done,” he said. “It works good.”

You smiled. “That’s great, honey.” You brought his hand to your lips and kissed his palm sweetly. “I’m proud of you. I could never do that kind of thing.”

He nuzzled his head into your neck. He was always so affectionate in bed, borderline needy. “Sure ya could. Ain’t rocket science. Just like… puttin’ together a jigsaw puzzle or somethin’.”

“Hm… a million piece jigsaw puzzle?”

He closed his eyes and sighed, his nose engulfed in the rosy scent of your hair. “Sure, if that’s what ya wanna call it.”

You smiled. “Kinda like you, a big puzzle.”

“Nah,” he said. “Ain’t got that much to me.”

“I disagree. You’re a lot more complex than you realize. That’s why people are intrigued by you.”

“Woman, you think any of these people give two shits about me?”

You shrugged. “Obviously they do. They can’t figure you out, so they’re wary of you. That’s kind of giving a shit. At least they’re thinking about you.”

He was quiet for a while again, just resting his face in your soft, warm tresses.

“Aaron wants to start recruitin’ tomorrow. We’re gonna leave for a few days.”

You turned around in his arms and looked at him with fearful eyes. “You’re going out?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“So soon?”

“We need more people.”

You closed your eyes and sighed. “Only a few days?”

“Give or take, we ain’t goin’ too far.”

You brought your hand up to caress his face. “I know you can do it, but the thought of anything happening to you, or my brother…” You shuddered at the thought.

“We’ll be fine. Aaron’s like you—tougher than he looks.”

You woke up even earlier than Daryl that morning, intent on preparing him a lunch for his trip, as well as a handful of protein bars and a large aluminum water bottle. You were going to be worried enough about him and Aaron, the least you could do to keep yourself from having a heart attack was to make sure they were well-fed.

Returning upstairs, you smiled when you saw Daryl was brushing his teeth in the master bathroom. You still were trying to get used to seeing him doing such simple things you hadn’t ever seen him do before.

As he washed his face, you laid out his now washed vest and jeans, and a new black plaid flannel shirt that would surely keep him warm on his bike.

When Daryl was about to leave to meet up with Aaron at the gates, you quickly got yourself dressed and went along to see them off.

“Please, please, please be careful,” you said to him, hugging him tightly and taking in every last breath of his earthy, tobacco-tinged scent. He rubbed your back, all the while staring off over your shoulder to make sure no Alexandrians would see. “I don’t even want you getting a paper cut out there.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

Aaron snorted as he packed his things into the trunk of the rusty old car he was going to drive in behind Daryl’s bike. You released Daryl before turning around to look at your snickering brother. “What’s so funny?” you asked pointedly.

Aaron held his hands up in defense. “Nothing, nothing at all.” He walked up to you and patted your shoulder. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to him.”

Daryl scoffed as he threw his pack in the trunk with Aaron’s.

You laughed before pulling Aaron in for a hug. “You be careful too.” You sighed deeply. “God, I’m already worried sick.”

Aaron pulled away and held your arms while looking you in the eyes seriously. “Don’t worry,” he repeated. “We’ll be back and we’ll be fine. Maybe we’ll even bring some people back with us, if we’re lucky.”

“Okay,” you said. “Just make sure they’re not... crazy, or anything.”

Aaron shook his head laughing. “I love you, worrywart.”

You took him in for a hug. “I love you, too.” You leaned closer to whisper to him, “Don’t annoy Daryl.”

Though you loved Aaron, he liked to talk, and Daryl didn’t.

“Can’t promise anything.”

When Daryl started up his new bike, you leaned down to kiss him on the lips by surprise. He grunted at you, not wanting your brother to see from the car right behind him.

“Good luck. Love you, cutie pie,” you said to him.

He shook his head as he smiled. He simply couldn’t help it, you were so sweet to him. “Love ya too.”

You asked the person on gate duty if you could pull it open for them, and they obliged. As you watched Daryl on his motorcycle and Aaron following behind in his car, you felt half of your heart leave your body. Sure, the rest of your family was here, but just the two of them was a big chunk.

Another big chunk of your family left later that day too. Glenn, Tara, Noah, and Eugene went on a run with Nicholas and Aiden, one of Deanna’s sons, to fetch some equipment for repairing the power grid.

You didn’t have any class that day, so you stayed home and wrote lesson plans, using your textbooks as a guide. When you finished your teacherly duties, you retired to your bedroom to begin writing in your journal again. You started by recapping the events of the beginning of the fall, and got as far as the farm. You couldn't exactly write a comprehensive history of the entire world's experiences in the apocalypse, but you could certainly write yours.

It was the afternoon when Glenn and his group returned, with two less people. Aiden and Noah had died, and Tara was badly injured.

That night, Deanna questioned Nicholas about what happened. He insisted that Glenn was responsible, and that your people didn’t belong in Alexandria.

When Carol came to bring you a helping of casserole she made for Deanna, you found out some more unsettling news, this time regarding the situation with Sam’s father, Pete.

“You're his teacher now, right?” she asked, sitting herself down at your dining room table.

The power was still out from the grid being down, so you made do with candles to light the place.

“Mhm,” you acknowledged, sitting yourself down across from her with two plates of the casserole, one for you and one for her you insisted she take. “He’s a sweet kid.”

“He, um, told me more about Pete.”

“What did he say?”

You knew the rumor was that he abused his wife, Jessie, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he hit his kids too.

Carol sighed. “Well, I already gave all the gritty details to Rick, but basically, he confirmed everything. He hits Jessie, so much he knocked her unconscious.”

You closed your eyes and shook your head. Now that Rick was the constable, it was his job to deal with these kinds of things. Though you wanted Pete to get what was coming to him for beating his wife, you also knew that Rick might react violently, given how you saw him act before.

You saw it with Tyreese at the prison, and with the Claimers the night before Terminus. He could be ruthless, and your group was already suspect.

You yourself had been getting increasingly hard looks from the Alexandrians now that you were officially teaching some of their children. It reminded you all too much of your experience back at the prison when so many of them turned on you after finding out you had killed a man. Granted, that man was trying to assault you, but that didn’t seem so important to them. Selective memory, you thought.

God forbid the Alexandrians find out what you did, and that you had now killed several men since then. They didn’t even like the fact that you were with Daryl, the “possum guy.”

“What’s Rick going to do about him?” you asked. “I mean, it’s not like he can just… lock him up.”

Carol shook her head. “No, he’s probably going to have to do something more drastic.”

“Kick him out?”

“No,” she said. “He’d just come back.”

You didn’t say anything for a while as Carol exchanged a look with you. You knew what she meant. Rick was planning on killing him if it came to it.

“No one will want us here if he kills him,” you said. “A lot of them already don’t want us here. That will just make things worse.”

“It’s what needs to happen,” she insisted. “Rick’s going to talk to Deanna about it tomorrow. If she doesn’t agree with it, then he might just have to do it anyway.”

You shook your head furiously. “No,” you said sternly. “No way. There’s got to be another way. He’s a piece of shit but he’s not worth getting kicked out over. He should be exiled.”

“Pete’s a doctor,” she argued. “He’s saved lives. They’re not going to get rid of him. Rick needs to take this into his own hands.”

“Rick’s not in charge anymore.” You raised your voice. “Deanna is, whether we like it or not. What she says goes, and I’m not giving up what we have. Not now.”

Carol took your hand in hers. “I know that, (Y/N). That’s why I took those guns from their armory.”

You looked at her bewildered. “You did what?”

She furrowed her brow. “Didn’t Daryl tell you?”

“No,” you said. “Why did you do that?”

“In case things went south. We could take Alexandria by force if we needed to, that’s what Rick said to me and Daryl.”

You sat back in your chair in disbelief. You couldn’t comprehend that Daryl would keep that from you. It must have been discussed during one of their secret meetings. You weren’t surprised that Rick would consider taking Alexandria, given how callous he had become in recent months. Daryl, however, was going in the opposite direction. He was becoming much more compassionate and understanding since the beginning, even if he didn't show it outright.

“That’s not right,” you said. “That’s not who we are.”

Carol nodded. “That’s what Daryl said.”

You sighed a bit in relief.

“He refused to take any of their guns when we met in the woods yesterday. Said he was trying to make it work here.”

“That’s—that’s good.”

Carol nodded. “He’s a good man. So is Rick, he’s just… different now.”

“He’s had too much pressure on him,” you elaborated. “He’s been the leader too long, and he’s had to do too much.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he’s right,” she said.

Carol left that night with a disagreement looming between the two of you. You believed that Rick should try to adhere to Deanna’s rules while still punishing Pete, and Carol believed he should be executed.

Such moral dilemmas were reminiscent of your time back at the farm, with the young man, Randall. It was times like this when you wished Dale was still around. He was one of the most morally-centered people you had ever met, and he would have made the right decision, you believed.

Or maybe he would have been changed by this world too. After all, Rick was, and Carol. Daryl had changed a lot as well, though it was more complicated with him. The world made him more quiet, more alert. You and your group, however, made him more compassionate and selfless.

As for you, you weren’t entirely sure how you had changed. It was always easier to analyze others rather than yourself.

You supposed you had become more confident in your abilities, and more skilled in defending yourself and others. Still, you were just as hopeful and kind as you once were. There were times when those traits faded further away from you, but they were always there, somewhere. You hadn’t changed as much as the others. You were, at your core, still the same woman. Perhaps that was a bad thing, but you didn’t mind so much.

You weren’t going to let this world harden you beyond recognition. Aaron was right when he said you were sensitive, but that kind of trait was in short supply these days. Sensitive people often didn’t make it very far. Maybe there was something else in you that kept you going, or maybe you were just lucky. Either way, you considered your sensitivity to be an asset, even if others didn’t.

Another day passed, mostly uneventfully, except you got to teach your class again. You were thankful for the time to take your mind off of Daryl and Aaron still being gone, and the trouble brewing between your people and the Alexandrians.

After class ended that afternoon, you decided to stay in the classroom. Being at home was nice, but it didn’t feel nearly as nice when Daryl was there with you.

You opted to work on the next day’s lesson plan, and you were there until the early evening when you heard the sound of glass shattering from somewhere outside.

You furrowed your brow, not concerned enough to inspect it just yet. Then, you heard yelling… and grunting.

In a burst of worry, you unlocked the drawer where you were keeping your hunting knife and sprinted out to the street to see what the commotion was about. Your worst fear was that walkers had breached the walls, but it wasn’t that at all—it was Rick pummeling Pete into the asphalt.

You stood there with several others who had heard the fight, including a handful of your group.

When Rick got the upper hand, he held Pete in a choke hold. He looked insane, drenched in blood and staring off with a blank expression as he nearly drained the life out of him from his tightening grip.

“Stop it,” said Deanna when she got to the scene. “Stop it, right now.”

Rick didn’t seem to even acknowledge her presence. “You touch ‘em again, and I’ll kill you.”

“Damnit, Rick, I said stop!”

He finally let go of Pete, but he quickly reached into his holster to pull out his gun, pointing it loosely in the direction of Deanna and the others around her. “Or what?” he asked. “You gonna kick me out?”

There was a petrified silence in the street. You breathed heavily as he brandished his weapon. This was exactly the kind of thing that was going to ruin the life you were just now able to have. You knew Rick was justified in killing Pete, but it wasn’t how things worked here. Alexandria still had rules, unlike the world you and your group had been living in.

“Put that gun down, Rick,” Deanna demanded.

“You still don’t get it,” he said. “None of you do!” He looked around at all of you. “We know what needs to be done, and we do it. We’re the ones who live.”

He’s lost it.

“You!” He pointed at Deanna. “You just sit, and plan and hesitate. You pretend like you know, when you don’t!”

You never thought you would see the day when Rick would sound more like Shane than himself.

“You wish things weren’t what they are,” he continued. “Starting right now, we have to live in the real world. We have to control who lives here.” He pointed to Petes’ writhing body.

“That’s never been more clear to me than it is right now,” replied Deanna, narrowing her eyes at Rick.

“Me?” Rick asked. “Me? You—you mean me?” He let out a crazed laugh. “If you don’t fight, you die. I’m not gonna stand by and—”

Michonne socked him in the face with the most force you’d ever seen her exert, causing him to fall unconscious onto the asphalt.

It was over. At least, for now.

You knew there would be hell to pay once Rick came to, and you were ready to fight tooth and nail for your group’s right to stay here, to be Alexandrians.

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

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#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead #twd fanfic #twd #the beginning series

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sparetimeimagines · 3 years

Note

So I don’t know if anyone has requested this or not but I would love a yandere light x shy virgin Christian reader nsfw oneshot ? if you don’t feel comfortable with writing religion with Christianity that’s okay can make a her a Kira worshipper instead ? that’s all have a good day :)

More | Light Yagami

tags; yandere, virgin!reader, smut, angst, fear, noncon

Masterlist

“Darling, where did you run off to?” His voice echos along the apartment, red lights confusing your eyes with total darkness.

A lost transaction, no one knew where you were.

But he did.

Pictures of you littered the lot. Hair up, hair down. Church dress, sports shorts with the sewer in bloomers. He had a variety to be smitten over.

Your heart beats wildly against your chest, the new reality setting in.

“Where am I? Who brought me here?” You whisper amongst yourself, the dark furniture placed strategically as a decoy, an object to get in your way.

“There you are.” The hands grab you from behind, tossing you on the ground.

Kicking and screaming, he’s avoiding that with his waist on your legs. You push away at him, scratching his arms as he laughs.

“Scream all you want, my Dear, this place is sound proof.”

Sound proof. Sound. Proof. He’s not even trying to silence you.

“Finally. Lovely voice by the way. Honest. Those years in the choir, fantastic.” He claps his hands together. “But now, let’s get acquainted shall we? I’m Kira, and you’re my Darling.”

Your lips begin moving silently with your eyes shut, a prayer.

“Pray to your God. Your God, ha! I am your God! You worship me now.” His face runs along your hair, pulling each lock into his face with a deep inhale. He shudders taking you in. “Talk to me, Precious, don’t be shy.” He smirks watching you from under his body. Wrists pinned with his palms, he soaks in the fear from your eyes.

Your eyes shoot open realizing he hasn’t stopped watching you.

“You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” He pats your hair down, his hands slowly moving along your body, the lumps and curves on you, he takes his time.

“So firm. Yet so soft.” He grasps each mound, his fingers massaging them out of curiosity.

A quiet mule, is it fear or arousal, slips from your mouth.

The ends of his curl up, reaching for your nipple but stops. Instead, he looks into your eyes, the red hue casted by the light heightening his senses but dimming yours.

“So sweet. Watching me... you want me to touch you, don’t you?”

His perfectly straight teeth glow with the light. His fingers travel south to your navel, he lifting the soft cotton fabric of your dress over your hips, falling just below your ribs.

“Your skin... it’s so soft... and this fear in your eyes, you’re ravishing.”

He inhales deeply, the fear making him hard through his slacks. He pets your arms, smooth skin connecting at your core as you’re paralyzed in fear.

He kisses your stomach, fluttering around your pure coat without a scar in place.

“Hmmmph. Oh my. My my my. What do we have here?” He purrs in delight, letting his finger hover over you. His fingers traced your structure, when finally he comes in contact with a soft pink bow attached to your panty line.

“You’re drenched, Dear. Practically soaking yourself and I haven’t even touched you yet.” His head dips to your clothed core, taking in your smell, your scent. “I’m salivating.”

His eyes watch yours, he watching how they grow in fear as he admires your body.

“Sweet church girls, you’re always so fun. With your pretty dresses and pure pink panties... the littlest things excite you.”

The wet spot on your slit slowly grows and he smirks. He actually smirks.

A hard swallow and he’s sitting up between your legs.

“Nobody’s touched you before have they?” He inhales your scent, tracing your legs down to your feet, with his lips trailing your ankle.

“So pure, sweet perfection, you’re exactly what I wanted.”

Your ankle in his lips, he gets the perfect few of your drenched, untouched kitty.

A deep inhale through his teeth, he recovers your face, his lips trailing your cheek, when he finally reaches your lips. He bites your lips, piercing you for your blood.

You finally let out a cry, peaking his arousal. His attention is stolen.

“Talk to me.” He moans, the touch of blood on his finger tip, smearing down your chin.

“Stop touching me.” You hiss with a stutter, an unusual combination merely heightening his senses.

“You’re just so cute.” He hums kissing you. “I don’t think I will ever stop.”

He pulls a knife from his pocket. “I want more.” He dissects your dress, the straps peeling off your shoulders. “More.” The less clothing supporting your innocence, the larger his smile, smirk, snarl grows across his lips.

“Intoxicating.” He smells your clothing, returning to your breast, those nipples he avoided earlier - he wants them between his teeth. He bares down with the sensitive bud pinching, a cry signaling him like the beast’s call. “Yes. More.” He takes your breast into his mouth whole, his needy fingers scavenging other noises, excited to discover new traits of you.

Your hand collides with his face stunning him to a halt.

“Did... did you just hit me? Did YOU just hit ME?” He cocks his head in your direction, his free hand tracing your neck. “How dare you?! I am your God! You worship me! Your body represents me! Your blood is mine!” He squeezes your neck, forcing the last bit of air from your lungs before his fingers trace your folds from the outside of your panties.

Feet flailing the best you can, it’s no use against him.

“Pretty. Little. Virgin.” He pets you, allowing you to breathe as a gift. You gasp against the ground, breasts swaying with each cycle. “You were made for me.” He whispers spreading your legs to help himself.

“Oh for you to see such a sight, Darling. You’re soiling yourself here. You keep yourself from me whilst silencing your tongue, and yet here you are body betraying you, soaked your panties to your skin. You’re begging me touch you.”

His eyes watch you closely in the red light, you following him like a map. Your throat being choked by your heart interrupting your thoughts.

This mental conflict.

This struggle you hold in your chest. You shouldn’t want this. You must behave -remain pure- and yet here you are spread for his desires.

His devilishly handsome looks should have been the first warning sign. There is no way anyone would be as handsome as he and still have wholesome motives.

“No one will ever love you as much as me, Darling.” He toys with your panty line. “Just let me adore you.”

Your body disobeys you, instead of closing, shutting him out, they move with him, hungry for his touch.

“Good girl, Darling.” He hums, smelling your scent once more. “Show me what’s mine.” He stares you down, waiting for a reaction. “Unwrap my present.”

He followed you home. It was a quiet Wednesday, the weather a perfect sixty-eight degrees. A perfect afternoon to walk home for the both of you. Except, you never went home, well from your perspective... however for Light, you were home. You were exactly where you needed to be, and he was never going to let you leave. All you needed was right here; and all you needed was Light.

Your fingers tremble from your sides.

You knew better than to run.

He would just catch you, like he had earlier.

“Go on.” He pats your leg, gesturing for his prize to be revealed.

Your fingers dipped into your thin fabric, letting it expose you inch by inch, past your knees until finally they’re off in your fingers.

“Now give them to me.”

Your hand shakes as you slowly hand them to Light, unsure of what he’ll do with them.

“Your smell... this fear and what’s this... desire? Do I smell you wanting me? Does my Darling desire me? Do you want me to touch you? Because these folds, your precious pretty pussy is begging for my attention. You’re adoring this, aren’t you?”

You’re confused by your body’s betrayal. How can you be aroused by such a character? A psychopath? A handsome sociopath.

“Darling. You belong to me. I’ll take care of you and you’ll be so perfect.”

“I-I want to go home.”

“Why would you want to go home? No one is there. No one is looking for you. No one will love you there as much as I love you here.” The back of his hand caresses you tenderly. “You’ll stay here.”

His eyes shoot up as you whilst the warmth of his fingers radiates around your virgin cunt.

Untouched property. Unclaimed land. You are his undiscovered treasure, and yes, he will hide you from everyone.

“Just let me show you how good it feels to be loved.” He pets your outer folds. “See, your soft skin against my skin. This is nice.” He strokes you multiple times, your heats dripping with arousal.

“Darling darling, you’re making a mess.” He leans down into your sobbing cunt, letting his tongue feel your sensitive folds.

You twitch below his touch, your body rising with his touch and a sharp breath is forced from your lungs.

“Mmm you love this. Look at how you purr. You’re body adores this.” He hums against your clit.

Your palms sweat at your sides. How are you supposed to react? This isn’t natural right? You’re not supposed to be this aroused?

His tongue traced up and down your slit, slurping your excessive slick dressing his face.

“My goodness.” He moans. “I haven’t done anything yet.” His tongue circles to your clit, forcing your hips to involuntarily gravity into his face once more, you hands grasping his hair for the first time. “Oh my Darling. Yes, touch me.”

He laps you, which feels like an eternity, feeling your body in new ways. Sensations you’ve never felt. You feel guilty, but the pleasure is overpowering your senses. The fire in your chest, your core, deep in the pit of your stomach, it’s burning and you want more.

“Do you want more Darling? I know you want to make me happy.” He look up from you, slick over his lips as he licks them.

You head keeps telling you no. You shouldn’t. You should wait. This isn’t pure.

But it feels so good. You want more. You want more!

You arch your hips against him and he chuckles.

“Tell me Darling. I need to hear how your body belongs to me.” He traces your slick around the entices but eyes you. “Tell me. Use your words, so I can worship your body.”

Is this right?

“I- I...” you fight yourself feeling him below. “Want more.” You moan with panted breaths and he allows himself between your tight folds.

“Oh my Goodness.” He inserts a single finger. “You’re so tight, Darling.”

Your breath is caught in your chest and you stare at the ceiling. His pressure... a good kind of pressure, you think. Your body acts so involuntary with his.

Legs spread, feeling him shift his fingers into your tight hole, a burning sensation building from within.

“You’re so pure. Letting me destroy you’re pure essence... tainting you for my existence... my my my.” He kisses your clit, the sensations mixing a concoction for your eyes to roll backwards into your head.

“Darling... you’ll only stay pure if you stay with me. You’ll only be good if you stay with me. You will only be here for me. You’ll only exist for me.” He pumps his finger inside your tight walls, the flesh kissing his skin with your slick. “Do you understand?”

He stops to watch you, a whimper leaving your mouth and he chuckles. “You will never leave this house. You will only exist for me.”

He eyes you, the red light intensifying the moment as he fucks you with his finger, on the floor, setting the rules you will obey. He’s not asking for your agreement.

No.

He’s telling you how it’s going to be.

You nod and he shoves another finger into your tight hole, too much for you to handle.

“Do you understand?”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Kira.”

You moan from the burn. Too much going on for you. The overstimulation of your cunt. The stretch of your walls inviting a new sensation.

“Perfect, because we’ll need plenty of time to get you ready for me.”

#yandere #yandere!light #light yagami imagine #light yagami #yandere light yagami #light Yagami smut #light Yagami angst

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crystal-snowing · 3 years

Text

oblivious | bang chan

synopsis: the four times that you almost confess to chan and the one time that he does it for you. or in which, you have the biggest crush on chan and the one time where he finally notices.

genre: fluff, slight angst, best-friends-to-lovers! au, non-idol! au

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count: 2.9k

a/n: this is for the @districtninewriters’ winter fic exchange, and my person was minnie ( @lveletters ) ! surprise !! minnie is such a fantastic writer, and i had an enjoyable time writing this and definitely writing for chan, i hope you enjoy !! <3

a/n part two: this gif was made by @/prodskz and i just edited it !

one

At the age of eight, there were only two things that you relatively seemed to know about Bang Chan: one; he was your next-door neighbor, two, (because of fact number one, he, therefore) was your best friend. Your relationship with him seemed simple enough, and there was nothing more that you could expect from the boy other than occasionally sharing his food with you during snack time and holding your hand as you both crossed the street on the way home. Life was simple, and you were content, as much as an eight-year-old could be—happily sipping on a juice box and munching on some graham crackers.

It was any other day at recess, both you and Chan taking up your resident spot on the swing set next to each other, pumping your legs as fast as you possibly could to swing higher than the other. Everything between the two of you was a competition; it was only natural. There was something about Bang Chan that seemed to awaken this drive within you even at such a young age. Your competitive side heightened by his presence—the need to invoke a response from him was too great to ignore.

“You know, I went to my uncle’s wedding this weekend,” you started, slowing the swing down just a bit so he could hear you over the playful sounds emanating from the playground. “And my uncle told me that one day I’m going to get married too!”

“Yeah, right! As if someone would ever marry you,” Chan scoffed, rolling his eyes lightly at your declaration.

You gasped and pouted slightly at his words. Reaching down with your right leg, you allowed it to drag across the wood chips below, slowing yourself down to a stop on the swing so that you could honestly look at him as you spoke.

“It’s true,” you huffed, puffing out your chest as you spoke, “plus, you’re my best friend, so we have to get married.”

His nose scrunched up and his eyebrows became furrowed at your words, clearly dissatisfied by the response that you gave. Chan began to slow down his swing before coming to a stop next to your own, as he shot you a frown.

“No way! I’m never getting married, especially not to you!”“What, why?”

He stood up from his position on the swing, dusting off his pants slightly before shooting you a pointed look.

“Because you have cooties,” he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You paused, glancing up at the brunette boy from your seated position on the swing with your mouth agape. There was an expression that seemed to flash across your face, and upon realizing, Chan broke off into a sprint before you followed after him.

“Bang Chan, come back here! I swear we’re going to get married one day; you just wait and see!”

two

The winter formal was perhaps one of the most important social gatherings at your middle school. It could possibly make or break your social reputation. Pairings between the student body had already begun three weeks ago, and the dance was about forty-eight hours away. However, your dilemma was that you were unsure if you even had a date.

There was a simple enough fix to this whole situation, and all you had to do was ask. Still, it was times like this where you couldn’t help but overthink everything in your relationship with Bang Chan. You assumed the two of you were going together; it only made sense. But considering the proximity of the dance and since he hasn’t said anything about it to you—well, the seeds of doubt have begun to sprout slowly.

An opportunity had continually presented itself every afternoon when both of you walked, side-by-side, home. You just needed to gather the courage and ask. Still, the walk seemed to end far too quickly for your liking. Before you knew it, you were bidding him goodbye with the repetitive excuse of having “too much homework.”

There was no way for you to explain the difficulty of putting these feelings into words. You couldn’t even begin to describe the unnecessary panic that you felt at the mere thought of him going to the dance with someone else. The idea of this was too much for you to bear. You were practically intoxicated on the very thought of him, which caused you to lose almost all sense of control when you were around him. The panic you felt closing in on Wednesday afternoon continued to grow as you both arrived closer and closer towards your respective houses. The mounting pressure caused you to suddenly stop short and yell out the one thing plaguing your mind.

“Chan, I like you! Please go to the dance with me!”

You couldn’t bear to look at him, quickly averting your gaze and attention into memorizing the intricate pattern of the sidewalk below—mentally preparing for the backlash and consequences to follow.

He blinked once, then twice, before finally taking a step closer to you and speaking.

“I like you too, [N/N], you’re my best friend,” he chuckled, causing you to look back up at him with wide eyes, “of course I’ll go to the dance with you.”

There was something about how he looked in the afternoon sunlight that seemed to make him glow, his eyes radiating warmth as he offered you a breathtaking smile. Your heart skipped a beat at his actions, and with your palms becoming sweaty and your knees weak, you were unsure what was coming over you.

And just like that, it was over.

With a slight ruffle of your hair, Chan turned away from you and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

He gave you a small wave and the promise of walking to school together tomorrow as he walked into his house. This left you standing dumbfounded on the sidewalk with slightly messy hair and an overwhelming feeling of bittersweetness sitting on your tongue.

three

The brisk night air served as a bitter reminder of the impending doom that you felt. Your high school was bustling for this time of night, the remnants of the party fizzling out and became merely a low buzzing in the background. Both of you were situated away from the rest. Sitting with barely an inch between you two on a picnic blanket behind the school, sipping cans of Coke as you watched people from a distance.

As the moonlight reflected off of his tan skin, your breath couldn’t help but get caught in your throat. He was ethereal, his skin glowing. His suit jacket was discarded somewhere on the grass elsewhere, his red tie loosened around his neck with his white dress shirt unbuttoned slightly as he leaned back on his arms. His legs outstretched in front of him. You drank him in as if he was fine wine, savoring every last drop, your body feeling slightly warm in his presence.

“You know, I’m always just one call away,” he spoke softly, his voice contrasting against the quiet murmur of the background. He looked at you, noticing the way your eyes seemed glossier than usual tonight, and he couldn’t help but grab your hand and rub small circles into it.

“But that’s not the same as being with you.”

The tears were pooling at the bottom of your eyes, gathering around your lower lashes and threatening to spill onto your clothes below. Your lips trembled at the thought, both you and Chan separating after so long together, going to different colleges and traveling on different paths in life. Some tears had spilled over, splashing silently down on the blanket below as they began to dribble down your cheeks and chin. It was only until you couldn’t contain yourself any longer then silent sobs began wracking your body.

“No matter what, I promise we’ll always make our way back to each other,” he continued to speak, but you couldn’t comprehend the rest. Your head continues to swirl with that particular sentence, playing it back like a mantra. You looked up at him, his brown eyes staring into yours—and you could swear, at that moment, you were home.

You practically lunged at him, tackling him in a hug and burying your tear-stained face into his chest. His body was stiff as he froze for a second before his arms came to wrap around your frame. Patting your back with a steady rhythm, he attempted to calm your cries as you soaked his dress shirt. Your grip around his frame was tight, and you held onto him as if your life depended on it as your sobs turned into soft sniffles and your eyes began to dry.

“I love you,” you muttered, nuzzling yourself further into his chest. You were unsure what had come over you, but at that moment, everything just felt right, and the confession that you have been harboring suddenly slipped out. The hand patting your back paused for a split second before resuming so swiftly that you chalked it up as a figment of your imagination. He didn’t say anything in response to your confession; instead, he opted to bring you closer in his embrace, and you dismissed it on the grounds that he probably didn’t hear you.

For now, you were content with the way things were, slightly thanking whatever god was out there for keeping your feelings hidden for another day.

four

By the time Chan arrived at the party, he was surprised that you were still standing on your own two feet. It wasn’t often that you would drink past your limit, but he knew you, and there were often times where you became a bit overzealous, biting off a lot more than you could chew. He knew that it was the competitive drive within you, and you couldn’t help yourself, but he would be damned if he ever let anything happen to you in this state.

That’s how he found himself at this end of the semester party, which was in a neighborhood that he was not familiar with at a quarter past one in the morning.

“Hey, did you know that I have a super hot best friend named Bang Chan?” your words were definitely slurred as they escaped your lips as you clung onto his back like a koala. You shifted yourself slightly on his back as you attempted to make yourself comfortable with your arms around his neck, and his jacket draped over your shoulders.

“Oh, really?” Chan mused, holding your legs tightly against his hips as he made his way down the sidewalk and towards your childhood neighborhood.

“Yeah, and I really really like him,” you paused before puffing out your cheeks and pouting, “but he doesn’t like me that way.”

“But, you guys are best friends; I’m sure he likes you at least a little bit,” he tries to reason with you, readjusting his grip on your legs. Even though he has had nothing to drink tonight, he was hanging onto every word that you spoke—enthralled and curious by this hidden information.

It was silent on your end for a bit before you leaned closer towards his ear to whisper your response.

“I’m going to tell you a big secret,” you paused slightly for dramatic effect, “I like like him, actually, no wait, I love love him and not in the friend kind of way.”

At your confession, he almost drops you but quickly catches himself and continues towards your house, his head clouded with thoughts. His eyebrows were furrowed deeply—scrunched together—creating deep indentations in his forehead as he attempted to make sense of everything that you just unloaded onto him.

After dropping that bomb on him, you were mostly silent on the ride home. Chan assumed that you had fallen asleep, and by the time he arrived at your doorstep and successfully managed to fish the keys from your pocket, did he come to two realizations. The first being that you were, in fact, awake the whole time.

“I also have another confession,” you mutter, your voice significantly quieter than it was a few minutes ago. He hummed a response, gingerly opening the door to your house and shutting it behind him. Removing both his shoes and your shoes before making his way to the couch positioned in the living room. “I don’t feel so good; I think I’m going to—”

Chan didn’t let you finish your sentence before shoving you into the nearest bathroom, holding back your hair as you emptied your stomach into the toilet below. Sitting on the cold tiled floor of your bathroom with the sounds of you dry heaving, did he come into his second realization.

My god, there was a possibility that you felt the same way.

five

Bang Chan was having a crisis. The uncomfortable night’s rest that he had on your living room couch did not do him any favors either. Instead of sleeping, he spent most of his night, letting countless scenarios run rampant through his head. After getting fed up with staring at your white ceiling all night, he found himself taking up residency in your kitchen. Watching the coffee pot heat up while drumming his fingers pensively on the countertop.

“Good morning,” you mumbled, yawning slightly as you padded into the kitchen. Chan jumped slightly at the sound of your voice, shoulders tensing up but then relaxing at your presence. For lack of a better term, you looked like a complete and utter mess. Your hair was sticking up wildly in all directions, your skin significantly paler than usual, and the bags underneath your eyes were more prominent than usual.

Nevertheless, he still thought you looked breathtaking.

“Thank you for taking care of me last night. I honestly can’t remember much from last night besides rambling about anything and everything," you laughed, rubbing your eyes as you grabbed a mug from the cabinet above.

You reached in front of him to grab the coffee pot and poured yourself a cup, brushing your arm against his own as you turned away. His heart immediately skipped a beat, heat flooding to his cheeks as he recalled your confession last night.

Sipping the hot and bitter liquid, you glanced at his flushed state, taking note of his slightly disheveled appearance as well as his bed head. It was evident that he slept here and took care of you; that was noted by the aspirin and glass of water left on your bedside table. You were more than grateful for everything that he has done for you. However, even in your slightly hungover state, you could notice the way he was avoiding eye contact with you, choosing to fiddle with the sleeves of his sweatshirt instead.

"Oh god, don't tell me,” you groaned, “what did I say to you last night?” You placed your cup down on the counter, rubbing your temples slightly as you braced yourself for his response.

Taking another sip of coffee, he paused before flitting his eyes up to meet your own—a small smile dancing across his lips. You were taken aback by his sudden burst of confidence, as you could feel your cheeks heat up in response.

“Well, you told me that you have this super and extra-hot best friend named Bang Chan. Isn’t it weird that this guy and I have the same name?” Chan had this shit-eating grin on his face before continuing, “oh, and you also mentioned that you might have a big crush on me.”

The coffee that you were currently drinking almost sprayed across the kitchen, your eyes wide as you quickly swallowed the liquid. If the world could swallow you up at this very moment, you would probably let it—anything to escape the utter embarrassment that you felt. It was now your turn to look everywhere except his eyes, hands fiddling gingerly with the handle of the coffee cup, desperately attempting to think of a way out without confessing the truth.

Chan took a step closer to you, placing his cup on the counter before running his hand through his disheveled brown locks. He cleared his throat softly, causing you to glance into his eyes. They burned with a type of determination and passion that you have never witnessed first-hand, your lips slightly agape as he began to speak.

“Because if that’s true, I feel the same way. I like you more than a friend, and I have for a while,” he stopped for a second, wiping the clamminess of his hands off on his jeans, shooting you a sheepish smile. Every single confession that you had given him throughout the years suddenly became apparent, from the warm glow of your cheeks to the bashful smile that adorned your lips—everything became clear. And just like that, his mind was made up.

“I want to ruin our friendship; let’s date instead.”

#skz imagines #stray kids imagines #districtninewriters #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #my writing

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amor-immortalem · 2 years

Text

The Lord of Fools and the Stubborn Commoner ch.10

Taglist: @flare-love @ithinkimdekubutreallyimdenki @ice-icebaby

Warning: implied sexual content (References from what happened in between the last chapter and this one) fluff and just a lil’ bit of angst at the beginning. Arella has big news for Mammon towards the end here.

As they lay in the afterglow the next morning, Mammon can’t help but think about the previous night. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so valued, treasured... loved. The thought of it last night moved him to tears once they had finished after round four. He remembers the way she held him as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck and cried- how she comforted him. In any other circumstance, he’d feel embarrassed as all get out but with Arella it felt different.

He felt a sense that he could be vulnerable with her and not be judged. He feels his heart swell with love as he looked down at her sleeping on his chest. They’d have to get up soon as much as he might wish otherwise.

She shifted as she started to wake, letting out a soft sigh before opening her eyes to look at him.

“Mornin’, Beautiful,” He smiles, “Sleep well?”

“Mhm,” Her voice is groggy as she hugs onto him tighter, “I’m sore,”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised.” He chuckles, “Yer the one who wanted ta go for four rounds though.”

“And you’re the one who went along with it,” She teased him as she rested her chin on the tops of her hands. “I don’t regret it though. It was a fantastic night.” She moved up captured his lips in a slow kiss.

“I love you,” the white-haired man says when they break away, “I love you so much. Guess I owe my brother one for bringin’ such an amazing person inta my life when I thought there was no one left for me...”

She looks at him with a look of surprise before it softens, “I love you too, Dear.”

“Who woulda thought... that we’d ever get ta this point?”

“Considering how we started? I’m unsure... but we did it and I’m happy this way.”

“Me too...” He takes one of her hands in his and laces their fingers together. “There’s still one thing we have to talk about...” He looks uncertain about what he’s going to ask next, afraid he might ruin the mood.

“Do you want to have children with me, Mammon?” Arella can see the nervousness in his eyes, the fear that he might upset her by asking for such things so she decides its best just ask the question herself.

“I- Only if you want ‘em. Yer the one who’s gotta carry ‘em for nine months... so it should be your choice.” He’s not meeting her eyes, afraid that if he looks at them, they’ll tell him the answer he doesn’t want to hear.

“Mammon, Love, look at me.” She cups his face with her hands. “I love you and I would be happy to add on to our little family with more children, but while living with my mother, I starved most days, my body was often just skin and bone. I’m willing to try for children, but because of my life before meeting you I don’t know if I can carry a healthy pregnancy to term and I don’t want to hurt you with miscarriage after miscarriage if I can’t- I don’t want you to have a repeat of your first marriage where I’m not able to give you more children.”

“That’s fine,” he says, a small smile breaking out on his face. “The best we can do is try, Treasure.”

“Who knows, with how many times we went at it last night, we could get lucky this time around… or we can go again… heighten our chances,” she had a playful smile painted on her lips.

He laughs softly at her forwardness as she crawls onto his lap.

“Alright we got some time anyway until we gotta get up… but I don’t wanna hear ‘bout how yer too sore ta move later.”

*************

The following month after that night, they really began to openly show their affection for each other. From quick hugs to swift stolen kisses, every spare moment they had that wasn’t devoted to Cyrus was spent wrapped in each other’s arms. It was like they were experiencing the actual honeymoon phase of their relationship even though the actual honeymoon had long since passed. The pair found themselves falling even more in love with each other day after day.

That’s why, when Arella noticed her cycle hadn’t actually come, she wasn’t surprised. Even through her excitement at the realization, she tried to be rational about it. Were there any outside factors that would throw it off? Any stressors, life style changes? No there wasn’t anything she could think of so it had to be…

Arella took off running in search of her husband. It was midday so he should be working in his office right now. Running through the winding halls, Arella pushes open the heavy oak door as Mammon looks up to meet her eyes.

“Hey, what’s up? Miss me that much?” He smiles at the absolutely giddy look painted on her face.

“Well, yes, but I came down here because I have to tell you something.” She’s practically bouncing in place.

“Well, what is it? C’mon, Babe, don’t keep me waitin’. The suspense is gonna kill me.”

“Well…I think I’m pregnant.”

And Mammon feels like his world has stopped- frozen in time. Once again, just like that night a month ago, the wind has been knocked out of him.

“A-Are ya sure? It’s can’t be somethin’ else could it?” He watches as she nods.

“My cycle’s two weeks late and nothing has really changed that would throw it off like this. That has to be the reason why. It’s the only thing that could be going on.”

At her words he rises from his desk, the biggest smile on his face. He holds his arms out for her and Arella runs to him. He spins her around as they laugh before he captures her lips in a kiss.

“Can’t believe it,” he leans his forehead against hers, “we could be having a baby…” he begins to pepper her cheeks with little kisses.

“Who would have thought it’d happen so quickly too?” She sounds amazed. “But I’m happy. We’ll have to wait until the more physical symptoms show up to be sure unless there’s a way to find out sooner but still… there’s no other explanation I can think of…

“I’ll get in touch with a doctor once we’re more sure about it.” He rubs her arm. “‘Rella, I can’t tell you how happy I am right now… I don’t even think I’ll be able to finish my work now- I’ll be too distracted.”

“Then how about I sit with you until Cyrus finishes his lessons?”

“That’s perfect.”

**************

They only needed about half a month more to find out for sure. It was a late August evening once the morning sickness decided to rear it ugly head and Arella just couldn’t keep anything down for very long to save her life. It wasn’t a sure fire way of knowing if she was pregnant but judging by the fact that she had already missed one cycle, it was a pretty safe bet.

Coming back from putting their son down for bed, Mammon walks in to their room only to be greeted by the sound gagging.

“Treasure, are ya alright?” He calls as he peaks his head into the bathroom.

“Yeah, I’m fine for the most part, Honey.” The black-haired woman sighs between bouts of vomiting. “Could you come hold my hair back please?”

“Yeah, sure thing,” the tanned-man makes his way over to where Arella was hunched over the toilet and gathers her hair that she didn’t have pushed back in his right hand while the left rubbed up and down her back. When she was done, he helped her stand and she rinsed her mouth out and brushed her teeth.

“Go lay down and rest. I’ll be there in a moment after I change, m’kay?” He mumbles into her hair.

“Alright,” Arella leans against him as he reaches over to flush the toilet. “Morning sickness is a bitch and a half.”

“Yeah I bet,” he laughs softly, “but at least now we have a definite confirmation that we’re expecting.”

Arella smiles at the excitement in his voice as he helps her into bed.

“We’re going to be parents,” her voice is filled with wonder at the thought and then nervousness. She knows Mammon is one of the best fathers she’s ever seen but was she going to be a good mother- at least during their baby’s infancy that is- she already knew she did a great job with their oldest but infants are a new challenge entirely.

Returning to their bed after he’d dressed in his night clothes, Mammon can sense she’s lost in her thoughts.

“Hey,” he says softly, laying down next to her while she curls into the warmth of his body, “yer gonna be a great mama, so don’t worry. Everything’s gonna go okay.”

“But-“

“Shhh,” he silences her with a kiss. “Ain’t no use frettin’ over what could happen- we’ll only jinx ourselves thinkin’ like that. I’m gonna be with ya every step a the way.”

“We still have to tell Cyrus too… I hope he takes the news well… of course we’ll have to wait until the risk of miscarriage isn’t so high.”

“He will. He’s been wanting a lil’ brother or sister for a bit.” The tanned man chuckles as he runs his fingers through her hair. “Go to sleep for now, m’kay? We’ll worry ‘bout the rest as it comes.”

**************

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me angst #obey me fluff #mammon angst #mammon fluff #obey me mammon #om! mammon #obey me oc #arella

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1997devil · 3 years

Text

deals with the devil

pairing: mingyu x reader

w.c.: 2.8k

includes: incubus!mingyu, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, dirty talk & degradation, daddy kink, oral (fem receiving), fingering, creampie

a/n: this is me being self indulgent because that’s what got me 1k after all 🥵😛 i promise i’ll work on requests after this! i just needed to get this out of my system 🖤 also to clarify some things that may appear dubious, the drink the reader is holding is a potion by mingyu that he uses to lure her towards him! a lil fantastical touch i added to upkeep the demon theme lol

you mutter expletives under your breath when the dj hollers and shuffles to the next song on his shitty playlist of trashy holiday remixes.

you’re only here because your friend had begged you to come along with her, pleading with such vigor she might as well had just dragged you by your wrist. she ditched you the second she set foot in the house, latching her arms around her boyfriend’s neck, the one throwing the party and the one who hired said dj. it really just reaffirmed how your best friend had a shitty taste.

when you entered what appeared to be a bar area someone had shoved a solo cup into your hand, the inside sloshing with a liquid you knew was strong, would blow your mind away from the scent that wafted from it, and would leave you with a killer hangover tomorrow morning. you didn’t dare take a sip from it, though you held onto it so that your hand wouldn’t look so lifeless, hanging by your body.

the shitty music didn’t pound against your still sober mind on whichever floor you were currently on, which you were thankful for. you wander through the house – perhaps the one thing your friend’s boyfriend was good for was the expansive mansion his family lived in – stumbling past locked bedrooms and powder rooms. people who were already trashed, no doubt from the same drink that remained in your cup, lingered about in the hallways. you gingerly stepped beside them, getting further away from where the party was mainly situated, not really having a concrete plan in mind or any sense of direction in what appeared to be a labyrinth standing as a house.

a bedroom you happen to pass by left its door ajar, and something called you from within to look in. it didn’t hurt to take a rest for a bit from the killer heels your friend shoved your feet into. you’d call a cab from there and you’d finally return home, within your safe space underneath your duvet.

there appeared to be no one, and you braced yourself to let yourself in fully. your heels sank into the carpeted floors as you slowly headed towards the bed. it was still clean and neatly made, and you wonder how no one has stepped foot in this bedroom amongst all the other ones you just passed by. you heave a sigh as you gently sat down on the plush bed. you hadn’t had a single bite or drink since night befell and painted the sky pitch black. the cup that’s in your hand still remains untouched, and you take a small sip, the alcohol burning like fire down your throat as you swallow.

something in the corner of your peripheral vision catches your attention, flickering, appearing transparent then returning to opaque in a moment you’d miss if you blink. it appears strange, fascinating, and you sense a stirring sensation throughout your body the more you rest your eyes on it. a voice that begins to resonate in your mind beckons you to come closer.

it feels like you lose all your senses as you face the man standing before you, and your brain eventually feels more muddled when you try to recall just where and you’d seen him before.

“had my eyes on you since you walked in,” the unnamed man hums, stepping closer to you, an arm circling around your waist. it presses you closer against him, letting out a soft gasp. your arms seem to move on their own accord, resting on his chest as he looks down on you. “wanted to taste you so bad,” he mutters, voice dropping to something lower than a whisper like you were the only one meant to hear him.

“w-who are you?” the lump that’s lodged in your throat since you swallowed whatever had been in that cup clears up just enough for you to brokenly rasp out words. you meet the man’s eyes, dark as midnight, glows and keeps your attention on him. you feel as if all your senses are heightened as he runs his warm hands on your body.

“call me mingyu, angel,” he smirks, a wanton intonation lacing his voice, “though you’ll call me many other things later.”

“l-like what?” you whimper when his head drops to your neck, gently sucking on your skin, fierce enough for you to feel but not enough to leave marks yet.

“are you gonna stay to find out?” his lips tickle at your ear, nibbling on your earlobe, placing a kiss to the skin right below it. it hits a spot you didn’t know felt good, a high pitched whine leaving your mouth. you nod frantically, and mingyu lets out a dark chuckle at how desperate he’s already gotten you.

it feels like mingyu controls all your movement, taking over your senses as he leads you around the bedroom and slams you to the door. his hand places itself firmly on your waist, and the other hand goes to circle your neck, almost like a priceless accessory that decorates the clean space of skin, like an empty canvas. it’s tight, hot, and you’d happily die like this, under his hands.

tears line and spring from your eyes, rivulets tracking your cheeks and dripping from your jaw. mingyu laughs, a snarky sound that is lined with fire and hell.

“haven’t touched you at all, pet,” he purrs, leaning closer to you, his tall figure towering over you. it is only fitting that the title of the king and ruler of the underworld is crowned to someone built like him. he commands attention, creates control in any space and room he enters, and right now he was playing with yours. “what’s making you so needy?”

he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ears, a contrast to just how rough he’d been with you before.

“you,” you whisper in response. the smirk that remains on his lips is taunting. “what about me? i haven’t done anything to you.”

he continues. “what would you like me to do with you, angel? would you like me to make you feel good?”

the affirming nod you give is all the permission he needs as he presses his lips to yours, licks on your bottom lip as you easily grant him access.

–

“you wanna know a secret, angel?’ mingyu teases, slow and relaxed, unlike you who’s the spitting image of desperation and need for him. he’s been teasing you for what feels like hours now, reducing you to putty in his hands, just begging with whatever energy you have left for him to fuck you already.

you nod, masking your sounds as the pillow underneath you swallows your whine. you feel mingyu’s hand return to your body, slowly tracing a path of its own on your thighs, inching closer to your wetness but not quite reaching it yet.

“i’ve known you since before tonight, darling,” he mutters as his legs bracket your legs, fingers carding through your hair. “i’ve seen and watched you, even when you thought no one could see you.”

his gentle touch on your locks turns into a searing grasp as he pulls you up by your hair, making you stand on your knees. your hands try to grasp at something, until it travels to behind you, pressing your back to his chest.

“even when you thought no one could hear you as moaned and whined until you made yourself cum.” he bites out directly against your ear, hot breath fanning on your skin until the hairs on the nape of your neck arose.

“so damn pretty when you got your fingers fucking yourself fast and hard, hm?” he continues, punctuating every few words with a wet kiss to your jawline. “or when you think that dumb little toy you have can make you come. it’s comical, darling, that you think anything can make you feel as good as i do. you’ll come to know it, angel.” his hand comes down to your ass, gentle for a start, though mingyu knows you’ll beg for him to go harder. you let out a little yelp at the contact, and mingyu just feels even more fired up as he sees the red mark deepen on your skin.

he pushes you back down onto the bed. “m-mingyu-ah, d-do it already, pl-please,” you brokenly mutter, and mingyu delights in the way your voice cracks at every other syllable.

“do what, angel?” your hands firmly grasp on the sheets as you feel his lips travel downwards, tracing down your spine and the small of your back. he moves back just a bit so he isn’t sitting atop your legs anymore, then holds you by your hips to pull you up. your knees are barely strong enough to hold you up, and mingyu scoffs at what you’ve become under his touch.

“this?”

he runs a finger on your sopping wetness, and you loudly keen at his touch, finally. you momentarily remember that you’re nowhere near your own bed, yet you continue to release loud noises, not caring if anyone can hear you from outside.

his mouth falls onto your pussy next, accompanying the ministrations of his fingers weaving in and out of you while he sucks and licks until you’re shivering. the anticipation that finally erupted with him pleasuring you produces moans and groans that mingyu absolutely revels in.

“what do you want, angel?”

you keen loudly with your eyes shut, taking deep breaths to not come early even though it seems mingyu wouldn’t even mind.

“w-want you in me, gyu.”

you feel mingyu’s grin deepen as he eats you out. “good girl.”

he lifts his mouth from your wetness, though his fingers don’t pause. he adds another digit, your wetness coating them up to their knuckles, dripping down to your inner thighs as well. you whine, impatient, and mingyu calmly shushes you, his other hand traveling up your body to pinch and play with your nipples.

“need to prepare you first, angel. you need to be able to take all of me, right?” he quickens the pace of his fingers, three of them now fucking you. your response is cut off by a whine. his feels better than when you do it yourself, going in deeper than you ever would’ve reached yourself.

“look at you,” he mutters in disdain, “can barely even take my fingers. d’you think you can take my cock?”

“pl-please, no more teasing, f-fuck me already!” you snap at his teasing, though mingyu seems unbothered, barking a familiar mocking laugh as he slowly pulls his fingers out, sucking on them, letting your sweetness coat his tongue and whole mouth, savoring your taste. he smacks your ass once more for good measure.

“demanding. be fucking grateful i’ll let it slide,” he growls, running the head of his cock on your entrance, as he slowly pushes in. he chokes on his own moan as he can barely push in up to the head of his cock. you’re so tiny underneath him, barely even fitting his dick, yet your pleading drips out of your mouth so easily.

your impatience takes over as you fuck back on him, and mingyu groans at how more of your tight cunt is enveloping his cock, warm and feeling so good. a gasp leaves your lips at how big he is, and mingyu’s hands bracket your waist, seemingly trying to stop you from going further.

“angel, y-you’re too tight,” he choppily huffs, a light sheen of sweat perspiring on his skin.

it appears to be your last straw. “please, please, i need you! n-need your cock,” you gasp once more, “please, d-daddy!”

you don’t even seem to notice the name falling off of your lips, but it reinvigorates the fire within mingyu. all his composure, the control he’d worked so hard to maintain so he doesn’t just fuck and break you, ebbing out of him and traveling far.

“you asked for it.”

he finally fully pushes in, his cock fully inside of you, your ass pressing against his hips. you gently swivel your hips, easing the stretch when it feels like his dick is splitting you.

“sweetheart, you’re driving me insane. what a greedy ‘lil slut, huh?” he grinds up against you once, and your arms feel like they’re about to give out. “getting off on daddy’s cock like this.”

his hands leave your waist, traveling to your nipples, flicking and pinching down on them. your whole body feels like jelly, letting out what you think are the most pornographic moans you’ve ever heard in your life. all your senses have been overtaken by the demon hanging above you, reveling in all the energy he’s feeding off of your pleasure.

mingyu bends over to press his body against yours, then straightens back up, bringing you with him. his hand tangles into your hair, keeping you upright as he finally begins fucking you, building up a pace. the sounds of skin slapping against each other resound in the room that feels larger than life, like no one can bother you.

he feeds dirty praises to you, and every syllable he bites out is almost competing with the noises you make. he tells you he loves how dirty you are, how wet and warm your pussy is, how soft your breasts feel, how you’re such a whore who so easily breaks when daddy fucks her.

his words tether back and forth between praising and mocking you, telling you that you look so gorgeous like this, brokenly sobbing at the pleasure, wetness dripping onto the sheets.

“do you like it, angel?” it is an understatement, and you can only express it through your dirty whimpers. “i l-love it, daddy. love it so mmm-much, ah, daddy, m-mingyu, ah!” you hate how mingyu keeps his composure so well, a sharp contrast to you, ruined and wrecked beyond comprehension.

“fucking you stupid, hm?” mingyu taunts.

then, in a smooth stroke, he pulls out of you, and you gasp at the loss of contact. mingyu leaves no time for regret. he moves back, turning your body around, letting you rest on your back. his fingers wrap around your ankles, pushing your legs up until he’s got you practically bending in half. he enters you again, easily picking up the pace he set beforehand. the new position easily leads him to the spot that makes you see stars.

your jaw falls as he continues to prod at the spot, hitting it perfectly every time. “right there, baby?” you deliriously nod, head lolling to the side.

mingyu’s lips on yours are soft and gently prodding, overwhelming you with the different sensations he’s subjecting your body and mind to.

“f-fuck, break me, daddy!”

mingyu’s lips stretch into a devilish smile.

mingyu slams even harder into you, pushing you to your limits. you see red, hot, and you know you won’t last much longer. you whimper, trying to work your voice up to warn mingyu, though you fail. he reads through you, his pace unforgiving as his hand comes to play with your clit, and you howl at the surge of pleasure that throbs through your body.

mingyu tightly grabs onto your thigh, pressing it down to keep you in position. “where do you want me, angel?”

“mmm, inside. f-fill me up, yeah, feels s-so good,” you’re completely out of it, slurring your words, not registering anything but mingyu’s warm hands running on your body and wetness, completely enveloping you until you’re teetering off the edge, ready to let the winding coil in your stomach burst.

mingyu groans, long and drawn, and makes the tension in your boy snap. you come from him coming, feeling him fill you up with hot spunk and pushed in deeper from how he doesn’t stop thrusting. sparks and sensations overflood you until you’re left with a gaping mouth and dripping pussy, as mingyu finally pulls out.

he coos as he watches you clench around nothing, his come dripping out of you. he bends down, using his tongue to clean up whatever had spilled out of you, then fucking the remnants back in with his finger. the overstimulation makes you keen once more, and mingyu finally takes mercy on you.

his lips gleam in the dark light, coated with the liquids dripping from your wetness. he kisses you again, and you taste the way yours and his come mix together in your mouths. your eyes flutter shut, feeling as if you’re suspended in mid-air as mingyu transforms from the ruthless dominant earlier to something much more gentle, lazily clashing his tongue with yours and pressing his digits down on your thighs to soothe the strained muscles.

it takes a while until he separates from you, and you can barely keep your eyes open as he smirks at you.

–

(you wake up the next morning in your bed, a sated soreness plaguing your entire body so great you feel like such pain would’ve only erected if you had thrown yourself off of a cliff.

a sigil that would’ve been invisible to anyone else but you brandish itself on your right pinky finger.

a feeling sinks into you, one that tells you he’d return soon.)

#seventeen #svt #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen smut #mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #mingyu fic #mingyu smut #t:fic #f:spicy #mine #merry xmas freaks 🖤

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misswenndy · 3 years

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Submissive Men

I think it’s time someone cleared the air around what it means to be a submissive man. The public perception of a submissive man is not a good one. There is a huge taboo on it, and many misperceptions on what a submissive man actually is. This is really sad, because many women are missing out on some fantastic men, that just might meet them on all the levels they always wished a man could meet her on. But since he admits he’s submissive, he is often dismissed as a potential partner in her eyes, due to these misunderstandings.

First of all, the biggest misperception is that being submissive is weak. Now lets take a look at this from a few angles. Being submissive can simply mean, he likes to be led, and he likes to put others before himself. That he is less aggressive, but more compassionate and thoughtful and selfless.

Now many women, like chivalry, and being courted. For chivalry to exist, men must put aside their own needs and put hers first, for “regular men” this usually comes with the ulterior motive to get into her pants. For a submissive man, this comes naturally and his desire to make her happy, and putting her first, makes him happy. So, does a man that wants to please, and wants to make her happy, does that make him weak? In what way?

Now if you turn it around and look at a “regular man” who is courting and being chivalrous simply to get into her pants for his own selfish needs what do you see? I see a man that simply wants to use her, and once he’s “conquered” her, he will likely move onto the next woman that he deems worthy of chasing. Her happiness is often a non issue to him as long as he gets laid. This is what we see in night clubs and bars all over the world. This isn’t uncommon. We live in a world where we actually have to explain the definition of consent, lets not forget that.

So, how is a submissive man weak, compared to a “ regular man”? If you really have a good look, the “regular man” has no commitment, he has no burdens, no sacrifices, therefore, where is the strength? When you look at the submissive man, he has to put aside his own needs, that takes strength.

He has a willingness to learn who she is, and what she needs, and strive to make her happy, that takes a lot of mental strength and self control. And, all of that, is before she is even interested in dominating him, he must show and prove his strength of character to her, long before she even considers the idea.

So he must be strong on the emotional level as well as mental. Now physically, “regular men” and submissive men, is quite irrelevant. There are submissive men of all forms and “regular men” of all forms, so this isn’t about who is physically stronger. So that’s a non issue.

Physically however, submissive men, tend to be more diplomatic, and try to resolve problems without resorting to violence whenever possible. “Regular men” on the other hand, tend to be more aggressive, and lack empathy to greater degrees, and tend to resort to violence before proper communication. This is seen all the time in road rage and so on, and lets not even get into rape and all that…

Another misconception about submissive men, is that, they’re gay. This one is huge, and makes many submissive men hide in the closet afraid to express their submissive tendencies because of the strong taboo. Being submissive, and being gay, are extremely different things. That includes submissive’s that gravitate toward cross dressing. Submissive men, may be a little more gentle, and sometimes a little less masculine. At the same time, we do have a huge issue of toxic masculinity in the world. So submissive men kind of bring a bit of a balance to what it means to be masculine. Men are brought up into a world, that teaches them that showing emotions as a man is gay or weak.

Submissive men, want to show their emotions, because they understand that suppressing these emotions isn’t healthy for anyone in their lives. Allowing emotion to flow freely through them, enables them to be vulnerable with the women in their lives, who are no strangers to vulnerability, with toxic masculinity always chasing her.

When you take a good look at vulnerability in this way, you can begin to see it as a strength and not a weakness. A submissive man allowing himself to be vulnerable means he must open up in all the ways he fears the most.

In other words, he must face his deepest fears, and allow himself to be naked, emotionally with his partner. This is something many men, never, ever, experience. They’re not strong enough to let go that much. They’re too busy believing that being macho and unfeeling is somehow the only way to be strong in this world, and as a result we have a world at war, which is nothing more than a big dick contest.

So submissive men, actually bring a balance to masculinity, that can meet the feminine on the levels most men never can. So instead of seeing submissive men as being gay, perhaps we can change the perception to having the balls to be emotional.

Even if a submissive is a cross dresser, or a sissy, it does not mean he is gay. It means, he wants to understand the feminine, that the raw power felt exploring what it means to be feminine, humbles him as a man. It actually helps him become a better man, because he is balancing his masculine and feminine sides within him, which will give him a stronger intuition, bring him more in touch with his body, and the natural world.

It will make him feel more alive, more in tune, and give him heightened senses. So exploring the feminine side isn’t necessarily a bad thing for a man to do, and I would recommend that all men be open minded enough, and dare I say, strong enough to actually explore it a little.

Now many men, especially if not submissive, reading this, would be offended by that. If you’re not comfortable enough to explore the feminine side, how can you call yourself a macho man? There’s a weakness there, inhibitions, fear of vulnerability. It has nothing to do with being gay, that’s the excuse that you come up with to rationalize your decision to never explore it. The ego in full force.

There is only one thing that makes anything gay, and there is nothing wrong with being gay either. But lets at least get our definitions straight. The only time anything is gay, is if it’s being done, or desired to be done, with the same gender. That’s it, nothing more.

A girl can take a man up the ass with a strap on, and it’s not gay. It’s anal sex. It’s not gay sex. He can desire to be taken up the ass by his girlfriend, or even on his own, with a butt plug. Again, not gay. If he desires a man to be doing it, then yes, that’s gay. A man wearing panties is not gay either. A man being feminine isn’t gay. A man being with another man, masculine or feminine, that’s gay. I think you’re getting the point I’m making?

I hope you are, because, the stigma is ridiculous, and the misperception needs to rectified. There are so many submissive men in this world that deserve a chance.

Submissive men must be so strong, to face the extreme levels of vulnerability to submit to a woman in a relationship, that strength and value is often not given credit. So much of what we see on the internet portrays submissive men as weak, and worthless, to be degraded and humiliated and treated like a dog. Now, the idea of the things above, in fantasy, can be a turn on, because it caters to a submissive’s desire to submit, no matter how hardcore.

But in reality, it’s a very different picture. In reality it can be a whole lot more romantic and intimate, passionate and charming. A submissive can be cherished by a woman, and make a fantastic partner that can really meet her on all the right levels and satisfy her needs, not just sexually, but around the house, and in life in general. He wants to. He needs to.

It’s a part of who he is, to make her happy is to make him happy. He’s a man with the ulterior motive of making her happy to make him happy. It’s a very different approach than simply getting laid and moving on to the next.

A relationship with one partner dedicated to making the other partner happy, is difficult to fail. It sets a foundation from the start and it has the ability to evolve, because communication is open. Trust is inherent. Where there’s trust, there’s always going to be passion and intimacy. Without trust, there are always insecurity issues, cheating issues, masturbation issues…. etc… With a submissive man, all of those issues are non existent. It helps her to fully relax knowing he’s there for her, without any doubt of his intentions. How many women and men, could benefit from this kind of relationship?

And that, is precisely why I wrote a book dedicated to introducing this kind of relationship in a gentle way that doesn’t scare people away with intense fetishes or erotica. A practical approach to a relationship that can set you both free in ways you can’t even imagine yet. The human body is designed to love, to feel, to be vulnerable, to let go of inhibitions and be accepted for who you really are, with another, down to the deepest level of your soul.

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ficsnroses · 4 years

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Breeding Kink Headcanons - John Wick x Reader

❧ Summary : Your husband John really wants to get you pregnant.

✽ Word Count : 1.9K

✽ Prompt : Breeding Kink. Requested by the main @fanficsrusz xoxo

✽ Warning : pregnancy, oral sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, fluff, John going AT it

Headcanons because I couldn’t possibly fit all my ideas into a “drabble” :)

Having a child together was always something John and you knew would happen for you. Brushed lightly on the subject, you clearly remember the way John’s eyes would light up when you’d mentioned earlier in your relationship, that you wanted children.

Now, married in bliss with your second anniversary approaching, John had started to get a little impatient. You both knew you wanted to get pregnant eventually, but hadn’t quite decided concretely exactly when just yet.

For John, a family always seemed a distant dream. However, when you’d walked into his life, he knew he wanted it with you.

In the beginning of your relationship, you used condoms during sex. It worked at the time, but eventually, after a conversation together, you decided you’d get yourself on birth control. John and you were pretty serious, had a solid foundation for your relationship and knew you wanted to be together for the rest of your lives,

And part of you wanted to take that step in your relationship; no matter how minor it may be. Sex was already something so intimate between you two, but to remove the barrier of a condom and really feel each other closer? It felt natural. Felt like something you trusted each other with.

Little did you know, that decision would spark a little something in your man…

For John, the first time you’d had sex using birth control, he swore he fell a little further for you [if it was even possible]. To know you trusted him to cum inside, that you weren’t scared, or fearful of anything going wrong meant so much to him.

Often during sex, he’d find himself thinking how much power his seed really had. On birth control, his cum buried deep inside your cunt meant nothing more than the mutual trust you two shared, a symbol of how deep your relationship had gotten.

But if you were off birth control? If the sex was unprotected?

John’s cum held great power. He could put a baby in you. Your baby, that you made with the embodiment of love your bodies yield to each other. The thought alone made John shiver each time, shuddering with a tingle of anticipation when he’d spill his hot loads inside you each night.

“John?” You’d asked one night, after a steamy quickie before bed. You rested your head on his bare chest as he heaves down from his high, a heavy palm rested to the bare skin of your exposed back.

“Yeah, baby?” He returns, kissing the top of your tousled hair softly. His palms are gently soothing over your bare hips, the same hips that would someday, hopefully carry the live of your child.

And that same night, the conversation happened. You’re both ready for a baby, you both want a baby with each other.

John is ecstatic, can’t wait to watch your pregnant belly grow as he showers his love on you, taking care of you each step of the way. John is already the perfect husband, and you best bet that it would heighten tenfold when you’re pregnant.

You have sex every single day now, sometimes multiple times a day. Sex with John was always fantastic, always had you practically on the verge of tears to how well he’d fuck you when he needed to, how well he’d make love to you when he needed to. If anyone knows how to strike the perfect balance, it’s Jonathan Wick.

“You gonna give me a baby, kitten?” John rasps, hastily pounding into your needy cunt from above. His biceps rest on either side of you and they look massive this way, a dark, almost primal darkness in his eyes on some nights like this. You’ve been trying for about a month now, and John is growing impatient. Part of him fears deep inside that as always, something will go wrong; deprive him from the life he wants with you. You make sure to assure him, however. Assure him that it’ll happen for you.

“Ye-yes baby, put a baby in me John…” You whimper, begging underneath him, soft legs tightly wrapped around his waist to give him optimal access to your deepest parts. John’s cock twitches inside you, and you know he’s close. Every single time, you shake and shudder to the feel of being rawed by him, the way his creamy, succulent cum fills up inside you to the brim.

It baffles you the amount of cum the man carries, how much he spills after each fuck. You can definitely feel him fill you up and it turns you on so fucking bad as you desperately pull him close, peppering needy kisses all over his face as he makes you cum as well.

“They say the more orgasms you have, the better the chances of getting pregnant.” John whispers, slowly delving between your drenched thighs. He licks a long stride up your aching pussy before circling sloppy, wet circles to your clit. You’re not sure if John’s theory is 100% accurate. Nonetheless, you know John thrives off making you feel good, he wants you to enjoy the process more than him. After all, you are the one who’s going to be carrying your baby for months on end, bearing all the pain and discomforts that come your way.

It does pull at your heartstrings how much John cares, how desperate he is fulfilling the deed of getting you pregnant.

If on your bed, before sex, John puts a pillow under your hips to angle them up slightly while he pumps in and out. “Can’t have any drip out,” He smirks, pressing a wet kiss to your lips as his throbbing cock stays positioned inside you, cocooned by your warm, pulsing walls after release.

Cockwarming has become almost a daily occurrence. After he’s came inside you, John keeps his girthy member inside your cunt for a couple of minutes as you both come down from your highs. He’ll rest his head in the haven of your breasts, arms wrapping around you as you pull him close, kissing his head to happy dreams of this wonderful, loving man fathering your children someday.

John insists that you have sex a couple times a day, and you fear he’ll eventually get sick of having you if you don’t slow down a little

“I’ll never get sick of you,” He whispers into your neck, softly kissing the skin as his arms hold you so dearly tight. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“I do.” You whisper, cupping his cheek. John is the sweetest man you know, and you best believe he’s only gotten sweeter since you’ve started trying.

Sometimes, when lounging next to each other, or when he’d come up behind you in a tender hug as you cook breakfast, John rests his hands on your belly; dreaming of how heartfelt it would be the day your baby would be in there,

“You’re gonna look so beautiful sweetheart, carrying our baby.” His deep baritone would soothe in your ears as he slams into you, your breasts bouncing to his pace as his hips snap into you hard, senselessly. His balls slam your core so hard each time, and the sounds of skin slapping skin fill the house very often nowadays. “Gonna show you off to the entire world,” He moans, cupping your breasts & kneading them with a firm force, yet cautious not to hurt you, as his mind drifts to the thought of how full they’d look, swollen holding milk

John and you have possibly tried every sex position there is at this point. Doggy style? John fucks into like a rabbit from behind, cock grinding your cervix to the deepest parts before slipping out entirely, only to plummet back in

Your legs on his shoulders as he fucks into you relentlessly? It’s one of his “trying to conceive” favourites, allows his sperm to take advantage of gravity

Face to face laying beside each other? John practically melts each time you do this one. The entry of his cock is so deep this way as you hold each other’s gazes, your leg draped over his waist as his arms pull you closer, rosy skin flushed together with a thin layer of sweat

From behind as you lay on your stomach? John’s eyes roll to the back of his head in this one. He enters you from behind, pounding in as he grinds your g-spot repeatedly, almost always giving you two orgasm before he cums deep, deep inside.

Did I mention how loud John is when he cums?

He moans, throaty groans fleeing his lips as he practically growls in your ear. The way you clench around him is too much, your pussy is too tight; too warm and he’s far too in love with your body (and all of you, ofc). Far too drunk on thoughts of pounding you pregnant for him

Sometimes John can get so dirty while fucking you

It surprises you sometimes that your sweet, loving, wholesome husband can say such sinful things

“Gonna make a baby come out of that tight little pussy.” He drips, biting small love marks into your skin as he thrusts, marking your body as his breeding ground

I mean he is a literal assassin so you do get that he can be a bit brutal sometimes

He tracks your periods and the days you’re most fertile (not that it matters too much since he fucks you into oblivion each day haha) but on days where you’ve ovulating he makes sure to go deeper, harder, and get in multiple rounds for optimal chances of conceiving

John cumming inside is so special now. You can’t help but shiver each time you feel him explode deep within you, knowing that that load might be the one to do the trick

You’re an advocating member of the “Make John a daddy 2021” campaign haha

And when your period is late…you tell John with beaming eyes and swear you’d seen a glistening glow in that chocolate gaze, unlike anything you’d ever seen before

You buy multiple tests together, John’s hand holding yours the entire time. The thought that your baby might be growing inside you, right now, this second as you stand at the check out counter has his smiling like a goofy idiot.

Your goofy idiot, of course :)

You take the tests together in the master bathroom of your bedroom. John is on edge and you have to hold his hand to reassure him, explaining to him that if its only a false alarm, you’ll keep trying because you want this with him. You need this with him.

You want a family and it’s never going to change.

But when all the tests come back positive, John is on the brink of tears.

You both are, holding each other tighter than ever as you both cry into each other’s necks, kneeling in a bundle of cuddles on the bathroom floor. John kisses each inch of your face, peppers delicate kisses to your tousled hair, offering squeezes to your hand when you let out a soft sniffle at the sheer happiness.

This is a moment that will forever be engrained in your minds.

It was finally happening; you made a baby.

You’ve never seen John this happy before, feeling as if everything in his life has finally fallen into place. This is what all the pain, all the hurt, all the sin that lingers in the shadows of his past had been leading up to. A family with you, free of evil, free of any grim that lingers.

A life where the only John Wick that the world knows, is the John who loves and is loved by his wife, and the John who is a father.

The most loving, caring, amazing father he could ever be.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

My taglist will be posted in reblogs, let me know if you want to be added or removed! :)

#john wick x reader #keanu reeves x reader #john wick fanfiction #john wick imagine #john wick x you

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mayonnaisetoffees · 3 years

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Mayo's Fic Recs

List of my favourite fics below the cut; this list is a WIP and completely personal taste; a mix of fandom classics and lesser knowns

Please remember to leave comments and kudos for the authors and podficcers!

*shows particular favourites

Fandoms currently included: Spn, Merlin, Les Mis, BatFam

Fics That Changed Me Fundamentally

Loaded March*** by Footloose. Merlin | E | 1.26M(Series)/ 35k (First part) | 188k hits (First part)

The reason SAS Captain Arthur Pendragon can’t keep a communications specialist in Team Excalibur because none of them are good enough. And then Lieutenant Merlin Emrys gets assigned to his squad, and Arthur does everything he can to prove that Merlin isn’t good enough, either. Except he is.

You can read all about my thoughts on Loaded March here, here, and here. Basically this fic series is beautifully written, has absolutely delicious UST, has found family, magic, and high stakes. It’s been part of my life for almost a decade now, I made friends through LM that I still have to this day, and it genuinely changed me as a person. Plus there are 78k of Extras to itch that I Finished Now What scratch. Parts 1-5 have been podficced and you can find them in works inspired by this one in each part.

Down to Agincourt*** by Seperis. Supernatural | E | 1.12M(Series)/ 154k (First part) | 73k hits (First part)

The world’s already over and they’re already dead. All they’re doing now is marking time until the end.

S7!Dean is transported back to the aftermath of where 5x04 The End left off. Much like LM, DtA was one that I avoided for a while. I didn’t think it would be my thing. I’m not usually into End!verse, it sounded so bleak from the summary, and it sounded so long for something I wasn’t sure about. If you’re reading this and nodding along? You are as much a fool as I was. Yes, it’s the end of the world. But it’s not over yet. This is a beautiful journey in what it means to be yourself, how to survive the end of the world, a How-To for Coups, and a study in food as a love language. I only read this fic this year, but like LM, it has genuinely changed me. Map of the World has been podficced.

Supernatural

Let’s start with the current hyperfixation. All of these are at least passively Dean/Cas unless otherwise stated. I've split into ones from my first time around in the SPN fandom and more recent ones because the vibes are actually really different and it took me some time to adjust (Not in a bad way! In a time has passed they have grown as characters way)

Old-School SPN (AKA the Classics my first time around)

Canon-Compliant or Divergent

Home in Motion* by nomdeplume13 M | 232k | 48k hits

Castiel swore he was done with spur of the moment decisions that permanently changed Dean Winchester's life. A year after the angel's most disastrous, his newest may present the largest challenge of dean's life: Fatherhood.

Did someone say kid!fic in canonverse? This is perfect. Canon divergence from the end of S6. Cas saves a baby from a neglectful mother and gives him to Dean to raise. They all move in with Bobby. Great OCs. Bobby considers Cas his son. Listen everything I say here will not be able to begin to encompass how much I love this fic. Just trust me on this one.

Named* by RC_McLachlan M | 95k | 95k hits

Jesus Christ is dead. Somehow, that isn't the worst part of Dean's week.

With a summary like that, need I say more? No but I'm gonna. This is one of the funniest fics I've ever read, but it doesn't take any emotion from the serious moments, if anything it heightens them. There are so many quotes from this I think about all the time. It was written in 2010 and so there's a bit of misogyny/character assassination of Anna in places.

Second Childhood by CloudyJenn (read by exmanhater) G | 16k (1h30) | 10k hits

"Dude, I can't do this whole thing by myself," Dean said with far more desperation leaking into his tone than he liked. It would just be too much to make it through hell and death and Lucifer only to have Castiel bail on him because of a frigging baby.

They beat the Apocalypse (OG-S5) and then Sam gets de-aged by a spell. I've listened to this so many times I know it by heart, it's an ultimate comfort fic to me.

Defy Any and All Expectation* by Tenoko1 (read by Tenoko1) M | 138k (14hrs) | 37k hits

Chuck's newly released books tell of another war between Heaven and Hell. Team Free Will sets out to try to defy prophecy, only to realize there is a lot more at stake and amiss than the not-quite-accurate words of one Prophet of the Lord. Along the way, Dean and Cas' relationship continues to evolve into something neither expected or were prepared for, all of their lives transforming in ways no one could have expected. But with no shortage of cases, monsters, and mayhem, it's going to require the help of new friends and old enemies if they're to have a hope of saving the world one more time. Alternate Season Six.

So this is a re-written version of Tenoko1's The Path We Choose which I don't think is around anymore. By the time I was reading the re-write as each chapter came out, I knew every single line of TPWC and it wasn't all that much shorter. It's such a perfect canon divergence because they are all 100% in-character. If you're into podfic, you already know what an absolute gift 14 hours is, but if you have never tried podfic before, Tenoko1 is a fantastic place to start. Her voice is soothing and energetic and her Cas sometimes comes to mind when I'm reading fic in Misha's place (sorry Misha)

His Fucking Kids 'Verse by 8sword M | 96k(Series)/ 3k (first part) | 26k hits (first part)

Jesus, the school should just have a parking spot labeled, “Reserved for the Novak-Winchesters,” because Dean’s getting sick of having to cruise around the parking lot looking for a spot every time he gets a call from the principal about Emma.

Emma survives and Dean and Cas are raising her and Claire. This fic series will make you laugh, make you cry, and (nowadays) make you wish Emma had survived to be a part of Wayward Sisters.

One Species Too Many by wallmakerrelict E | 22k | 37k hits

While Dean is laid up for a month after breaking his leg on a hunt, Cas decides that it's a perfect time to adopt a litter of kittens. But even though he's gotten better since Purgatory, Cas still isn't quite the same as he was before fixing Sam's head, and being trapped in a cabin with him for weeks on end is making that all the more obvious to Dean. When Sam takes off on a hunt, Dean has to figure out on his own how to navigate his new relationship with Cas while also helping to raise a bunch of fuzzballs that aren't even cute. Not even a little bit. (Well, maybe a little bit.)

Dean breaks his legs, and honey!Cas brings home some kittens to foster. It's achingly sweet and also painful because you know Dean wants to fix Cas but there's nothing to fix. It is tagged for ableism for this.

Tripping* by Hatteress E | 49k | 78k hits

That time the universe decided Dean belonged with Cas and wasn't afraid to pull out the big guns to make it so. Big guns in this case being obsessive fangirls, archangels turned tricksters and overly enthusiastic cupids. Welcome to Dean's life.

Alt!S5 and it is beautiful. Also any fic with Missouri is an automatic win.

Broadway Musical by Grifitings M | 12k | 79k hits

This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle. The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at. Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

Jimmy deserves a sainthood and frankly I don't even want to hear about crack if it's not on the level of the Host yelling at Cas not to touch the butt.

Classic AUs (AKA AUs from my first time around)

Try Something Tuesday by almaasi E | 48k | 144k hits

Dean Winchester teaches a third-grade class. He's new to this whole ‘bisexual’ thing - but by pure happenstance, he meets Castiel: a particularly dapper male librarian who moonlights as a substitute teacher. Dean's curious and Castiel is willing, so why the hell not? Except, fate never intended it to be one-time-only...

This was one of the first spn fics to really really stay with me and it never really left.

Rock 'n' Roll Queer Bar by ChasingRabbits E | 127k(Series)/ 8k (Part1) | 29k hits (Part1)

Ellen and Jo Harvelle run Harvelle's Roadhouse, a bar that unintentionally becomes a beacon for wayward queer souls. Her employees: Dean, the smartass runaway with a big heart and bigger mouth; Castiel, the college drop-out turned hippie; his (surprisingly heterosexual) trouble-making brother Gabriel; and Charlie, who has been told several times that the back room is not to be used for after-hours Dungeons & Dragons games. But there's a lot of love in this place, and a new family for anyone who may otherwise be without.

This series. If you've ever felt unsure or out of place or anxious or just really felt like no-one understood you, this fic is for you. I first found this series when I was coming to terms with my queerness and I genuinely think it was invaluable. Also I am a sucker for the go for a dinner at Cas's family and end up storming out trope.

Play It All Night Long by janie_tangerine (read by Tenoko1) NC17 | 43k (4hrs)

The rom-com-ish one where Dean hosts a late night radio show, Castiel is a regular listener of his who starts calling one day and ends up calling more often than not and Dean finds himself liking it. This, until one day Castiel calls for not exactly petty reasons (just before Dean's brother Sam is visiting with his girlfriend for spring break) and things get very, very crowdy at his place. He also doesn't know it's just the beginning of it. Also features Gabriel, Chuck, Andy, the Roadhouse crew and a huge amount of music quoted. Especially Bob Dylan.

Again, this podfic has got me through many a night of insomnia. Cas calls in after a particularly shitty day and it all goes from there.

New-School SPN (AKA post-2014)

Canon-Compliant or Divergent

Tall Grass by aeli_kindara E | 57k | 28k hits

“I think we should have a garden,” Cas says. Dean looks up from his beer. He hasn’t had that much to drink, but Cas still has a vague look of unreality about him, a splash of living color that doesn’t fit in the bunker’s echoing stillness. Dean didn’t hear him coming. A lot of the time, Cas is so unobtrusive it feels like Dean has the bunker to himself, with Sam away. Dean shakes his head to clear it. “A — garden?” he repeats.

There is a reason you will see this recced time and time again. It healed parts of me I didn't know needed healing.

So Says the Sword* by komodobits E | 85k | 73k hits

The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’ Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected

I saw ssts mentioned in like every single If you're getting back into the fandom READ THIS rec list. For good reason. It's described as "canon-adjacent in that seasons one to three happened exactly the same, but when Dean goes to Hell, he is not raised by Castiel". It's one of the most interesting concepts I've read and it's one of those fics where the writing style will stick with you. Castiel POV in a way you've never read before.

Aching in the Absence of You* by sobsicles E | 95k | 9k hits (in 5 days)

Brittle and battle-worn, Cas looks at him over coffee one morning and says, "I need to go," and Dean instantly knows that he's not coming back. He's not really sure how he knows it, but he does. It settles into the pit of his stomach, curling hot and tight like something he instinctively wants to tear out with his bare hands. He takes a breath, and it gets stuck in his throat, hitching there. It hurts, hurts, hurts when he finally exhales. "Yeah," Dean says, "of course you do," and he nods jerkily as he looks down at his phone. He doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't look up from the screen when Cas gets up and leaves the room. He doesn't finish his coffee, or move for a long time. By nightfall, Cas is gone.

If you don't already know sobsicles, I am delighted to introduce you to the person who will smash you to pieces with a hammer to put you back together Kintsugi-style. This one is post-finale but without 15x18 (it'll make sense as it goes). Cas says he's going to leave again and again Dean doesn't ask him to stay. Full of lines so beautiful they'd make Shakespeare weep, Sobsicles has this way of writing that is so evocative and paints such a clear picture. Fair warning, if you're Dean-coded, this might be A Lot.

dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d's to the destination)** by sobsicles E | 108k | 25k hits

Freedom is just one adjustment after the next. ~~~ Cas hums again. "I think you already have. It's been months since everything settled. All that's left to do is...get used to it, and perhaps—" His voice stalls out, uncharacteristically, and his gaze roams Dean's face with intensity. When he speaks next, his tone is a little raw. "Perhaps what one does with peace is...whatever they want." "What if I don't even know what that is?" Dean grumbles, arching an eyebrow in challenge. "'Cause I know damn well you don't just mean good food and a good bed and time in Baby, not simple wants like that. You mean—ya know, the big things, the wants we didn't get to have before." "Yes," Cas agrees. "If you're not sure, figure it out." "Easier said than done."

Yes, two sobsicles recs back to back. This one I read first and it still holds such a special place in my heart. A sign of a good fic is being able to picture it perfectly. The sign of an amazing fic is that when reading this I was so in Dean's shoes I could feel a pool cue between my hands and Baby behind my back. And I sobbed like a baby in this. It has probably my favourite ending ever. It's genuinely beautiful. If you don't read another on this list, read this one.

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara M | 52k | 14k hits

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean. (A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

The ultimate Cas character study and interwoven with poetry.

So There It Is, I've Said It All by PorcupineGirl (read by Ceewelsh) G | 4k | 13k hits

"Why, do you have something you need to say to me that you don't think I'll like?" I think I'm in love with you. "Yeah. I guess so."

Dean figures out he's in love with Cas then can't stop thinking it. This is genuinely beautiful and if you've ever had trouble actually saying the thing you're thinking, you'll relate to Dean here. I recently did the podfic for this.

you won't find this place alone by amidsizedfrog G | 9.5k |

When Claire said she was dropping out of college to pursue hunting full time, Dean said, “right,” and left the room. Or, the cross-generation conversation about formal education, choosing your own path and figuring out what it looks like to find a family. Or, in other words: "But what I do have is a GED and a give-'em-hell-attitude, and I'll figure it out." - Dean Winchester

This is a beautiful look at education in the hunter world, and I love anything that looks at Dean and Bobby's relationship and this does it perfectly. Also best cameo ever.

Seek to Know You Better by ahurston E | 33k | 23k hits

Dean and Cas, a long stretch of highway, and 36 questions empirically designed to make two people fall in love. As if they weren't already.

This is perfect. It has a lovely slow pace like it has the vibes of an indie film if that makes sense? Like it's two guys going from place to place talking. It was an instant favourite.

Newer AUs (AKA more recent AUs)

And This, Your Living Kiss* by opal_bullets M | 57k | 69k hits

Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen.

When I asked which fics were absolute must-reads for someone who'd been out of the fandom a few years, this was said repeatedly. But what really got me to read it was everyone actually told me more about what it meant to them than just the summary. It's a study in poetry, a study in learning who you are and who you used to be, and a reminder that it's never too late.

The Graveyard Shift* by riseofthefallenone, PurgatoryJar E | 620k | 175k hits

Dean’s favourite coffee shop, The Graveyard Shift, is only open after the sun goes down. Which is perfect for him, because that’s exactly when he craves coffee the most while doing the overnight at the fire hall. The coffee shop’s owner is pretty perfect too, but it’s kind of a bummer that Dean never gets to see Cas during the day. In a world where the supernatural live more or less in peace with the rest of humanity, it’s a little impolite to ask Cas just what he really is - or what his dark past entails.

A fantastic magical realism fic - magical creatures live and work with humans. Gabe and Cas run a coffee shop, Dean is a fireman, and the burn is slow and delicious and the intrigue kept me reading for like a week every single spare minute.

Painted Angels by WinJennster E | 106k | 162k hits

Author Castiel Novak has finally hit the big time, with a book based on his failed college relationship with a brilliant painter. He's put all his pain behind him, but at a book signing, he comes face to face with Dean Winchester for the first time in twelve years, and the reunion doesn't go like Cas hoped. Dean's a broken man, with a lot of scars and secrets, shoulders weighed down by his demons and self loathing. Cas sees a second chance with the man he's never stopped loving, but Dean's moved on, and is about to get married. Sam launches a "brilliant" plan to reunite his brother and his best friend, but Cas is worried it will all blow up in their faces, and he'll go through the agony of losing Dean a second time.

The first part of this I actually saved back when I was first in the fandom but I never got around to reading it (I had a To Read folder of 100+ fics that I absolutely dove into when I got back into spn) and the rest of the series finished in 2016 so I'm counting it in this section not the other. On the one hand, I wish I'd read this when it first came out. It's beautiful and heartbreaking, and so visual. On the other hand, I think I appreciated it a lot more now than I would have seven years ago. The parallel of me coming back to the old fandom that I loved dearly with Cas coming back to see someone and places he loved so much really hit. (Although coming back to the spn fandom was much easier and much less heartbreak!)

Finale Fix-Its (yeah fuck you Dabb that this has to be a whole category)

The Goldenrod Revisions by aethylas M | 66k | 15k hits

A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.

Script format re-write of 15x19 and 15x20 into a 5-episode finale fix-it. As far as I'm concerned, this and chocolatecakecas's American Pie fanvid are the Supernatural finale.

break the skin (to break the barriers)* by sobsicles M | 30k | 9k hits

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment. ~~~ Dean is silent for a long, tense moment, then he gruffly says, "It's not for banishing the angels. It's to summon them. So, it doesn't—it's not to get rid of 'em, but to draw 'em in." Mitzi can't help but glance up at him at that. His voice is so heavy with so much unexplained pain, and she doesn't understand why, or what angels have to do with it. She knows religion can impact people. She's very aware that it can get complicated, and that it can be a huge source of pain for someone, but Dean sounds grievously wronged, somehow, as if it's a truly personal thing. She pushes through, focusing back on her job, clearing her throat before murmuring, "Well, I guess we all want angels to visit us sometimes." "Just the one," Dean mumbles. "Your guardian angel?" Mitzi asks. Dean breathes out, "Something like that. As close to one as an angel will ever get."

Therapy through getting tattoos and telling your life story to someone who obviously doesn't think it's real. Outsider!POV not just done well, but done literally the best.

Kingdom Come by ahurston E | 17k | 10k hits

Cas wakes up on the coast of Maine. He makes his way home.

I don't know if this counts as finale fix-it as it's more fuck the finale we're ignoring that. There's just so much love and care in this fic.

The Family Business by chai_lattes M | 16k | 5.5k hits

It's all over. It's been weeks since Chuck's defeat and Cas' return from the Empty. There are no threats on the horizon, no apocalypses to stop, but there's something that keeps the Winchesters from being happy. Something that's maybe always been there. On their way back from a hunt, they find John Winchester, back from the dead.

If you're anything like me, you start rubbing your grubby little hands together at the tag John Winchester's A+ Parenting like yes let's address this! This is one of the best examples of John coming back and how it jars with the life that they have built. Also Claire and Jack getting to share screentime!

Merlin

If I have a forever fandom, it's Merlin. I've always kept one foot in this fandom, and it introduced me to fandom, and most importantly to podfic which kinda had an impact. All Merthur unless stated.

Canon-Verse

Seven Magpies by syllic (read by lunchee) E | 33k (3hr15) | 58k hits

Arthur opened his eyes a minute later to the sight of seven magpies streaking across the top of the clearing, their shapes dark against the white clouds and the muted grey of the sky. He tried to remember what it was that seven magpies meant—he'd had a nurse who had sung the rhyme to him as a child—but couldn't. Arthur wakes up somewhere he doesn't recognise, but where he clearly belongs.

Okay so this is an AU but it's Canon-AU so it's going here. Fantastic role reversal fic that you will be thinking about for weeks.

and from your grace, i fell by TheDragon (read by Ceewelsh) T | 4.6k (41mins) | 13k hits

“Where’s Merlin?” he asks the maid. “Where’s that idiot of a Court Sorcerer?!” “Begging your pardon, Your Majesty. I thought you knew,” the maid replies, not daring to look him in the eyes. “He’s taken ill.” “And he couldn’t be bothered to tell me himself that he would be unable to attend today’s council meeting?” Arthur questions, voice full of acid. “He hasn’t woken since he collapsed two days ago, Sire,” the maidservant says, blissfully unaware that what she’s saying the power to stop Arthur’s heart in its tracks.

When I first read this, it had me completely transfixed. I could not stop reading. It was so raw and so full of emotion. I was then lucky enough to get TheDragon in our exchange, so I did a podfic for it and it's probably the most proud I've been of one.

Modern AU

The Student Prince* by FayJay (read by FayJay) M | 145k (15hrs) | 696k hits

A Modern day Merlin AU set at the University of St Andrews, featuring teetotal kickboxers, secret wizards, magnificent bodyguards of various genders, irate fairies, imprisoned dragons, crumbling gothic architecture, arrogant princes, adorable engineering students, stolen gold, magical doorways, attempted assassination, drunken students, shaving foam fights, embarrassing mornings after, The Hammer Dance, duty, responsibility, friendship and true love...

A classic is a classic for a reason. I'm also pretty sure this introduced me to podfics so like special place in my heart x2. Did you know if you filter AO3 by hits on Merlin, this has 426k more hits than the second result? Now that is a Fandom Classic.

Drastically Redefining Protocol* by rageprufrock (read by lunchee) E | 46k (5hr30) | 269k hits

In which Prince Arthur meets Merlin and all hell promptly breaks loose.

As I always say, if this can happen to me and I still love the fic, nothing is going to change that. Arthur hides from his duties in a cupboard and gets stuck in there with a chainsmoking med student.

Fundamental Imperfections by Starlingthefool (read by bravenclawsome) M | 12k (1hr35) | 123k hits

In which an argument about Dickens leads to a Twitter scandal, broken bones, midnight conversations, and transatlantic longing. (Or, an AU with Arthur and Merlin as moderately famous authors.)

This fic has everything: Charles Dickens, long distance texting, Morgana choking a Sherlock cosplayer with his own scarf. This is the ultimate comfort fic and I compare all fics to this even when they're incomparable. I never read the sequel because it was WIP and I was waiting for it to complete, it hasn't been updated since 2015 and apparently ends on an unhappy note, so if you're going to read the sequel you have been warned.

Les Mis

Modern!AU

Overzealous Oddities by YassHomo e/R, Courf/Cosette/Marius, Comb/Ép | G | 6.4k | 4k hits

Courfeyrac: Remember when I smashed our tv and we laughed about it? Enjolras: No. Courfeyrac: Let me rephrase Courfeyrac: I've smashed our tv, lets laugh about it.

I love me a text fic and this is in my opinion the best one around. Just look at that summary. I have quoted that so many times.

But Paris was a very old city and we were young* by GingerNinjaAbi E/R, Courf/Jehan | M | 99k | 42k hits

Perhaps somewhere in between all the cups of coffee, shots of tequila, sunny March days, terrible lumpy jumpers, love, cigarettes, drunken nights and the desire to change the world they'll all leave Paris with a degree in something. Or not. Grantaire's money is on no. But he's a pessimist who's hopelessly in love, so perhaps his opinion shouldn't count.

The ULTIMATE modern!AU tbh.

Tagged by Salomonderiel E/R, Courf/Jehan | E | 155k | 28k hits

So there's this artist. He could probably be compared to Banksy, but he's a lot more... cynical. He shares rooms with a poet who braids his hair with flowers, in a flat near Covent Garden they rent from a short-tempered shop keeper with a penchant for fans and who'd do anything if you mentioned Poland. Sometimes, the three of them will go and deface public buildings in London whilst completely smashed off their heads. And then there's this, shall we say, 'revolutionary'. He has a band of other revolutionaries, who all meet at this cafe by Borough Market. He shares rooms with his best mate, a philosophy student, spends too much time with a flirty guy who has a thing for poets, goes boxing with a guy in a red vest, wants to punch the wet sop who drools on the blonde waitress and is getting tired of this guy who keep breaking his laptops through sheer dumb luck. Thank god the hypochondriac's there to keep an (slightly too) attentive eye on their stress levels. The revolutionary thinks the graffiti artist's work is a waste of space. The artist thinks the revolutionary's campaigns are a waste of time. And all the while, the poet and the flirt drool over each other in the background...

This is perfect and it's funny and it's beautiful and it rips my heart out multiple times.

Canon

To Be Free by kjack89 (read by Ceewelsh) Gen, Cosette/Marius | T | 3.8k (32mins) | 375 hits

Three blows from a bayonet had transfixed Combeferre’s breast, followed by a fall from the barricade as he rapidly lost first blood and then consciousness. But neither of these, it seemed, was enough to kill him, as much as later he might perhaps wish that they were.

I read this because it was on a list kjack89 did of their favourite fics which don't necessarily have the same hits traffic. It's nothing I would have usually read (canon era, not e/R, MCD) but I am so glad I gave it a go. It's a study on what if Combeferre had survived the barricades too and the guilt. This stayed with me for days afterwards until I eventually messaged kjack89 to get permission to podfic it.

BatFam

Canonish (I don't know differences between canons but these are all they're superheros fics)

Robins United by laceymcbain (read by reena_jenkins) Gen | T | 49k (6h15)/ 19k (2h25) (First part) | 103k hits

Bullets, knives, a three story fall, even a fucking crowbar hadn't managed to keep Jason down permanently, but Dick Grayson (and the rest of his "family") was going to kill him with kindness.

The ultimate batbros series. Also if you haven't heard reena_jenkins' podfics before, you are welcome. Pre-pandemic I took a lot of public transport and reena_jenkins kept me sane.

batcoons by drakefeathers (read by reena_jenkins) Gen | G | 6k (49mins) | 14k hits

Jason and raccoons have a lot in common. (Additionally: his so-called family are much bigger pests than the stray animals hanging around his safehouse.)

This is funny, it's heartwarming, and it's a really good character study.

Here Comes the Sun by batsy_rocks Clark/Bruce | T | 19k | 20k hits

Clark Kent is a kind-hearted reporter working in the big city. Bruce Wayne is a stressed dad of four with no idea of what he's doing. Then they meet.

Bruce Wayne is a Tired Single Dad™. It's genuinely such a sweet fic.

#fic rec #spn fic rec #merlin fic rec #les mis fic rec

23 notes · View notes

halfway-happyyy · 3 years

Text

Sleep on the Floor

AN: I’ve thought about this concept on and off for a while now, and finally decided to write it down. Alexander and a rather unfriendly acquaintance cross paths again at a music festival, and end up handcuffed together for the day. Under the cut because it’s lengthy 💖

tw: nothing but fluff, friends.

As always, feedback is encouraged and appreciated.

It was the bright glare of the sunlight glinting off the metal object in the back pocket of her best friend’s denim shorts that initially caught Daisy’s attention. After an hour of scouring multiple maps of Montreal’s many metro lines- (“Well do we need to take the orange line or the green one?” and “Can’t you just google maps it?” and perhaps Daisy’s personal favourite- “We should have just spent the sixty dollars on an uber.”) The trio of friends had finally made it to Parc Jean-Drapeau, where the three-day Osheaga music festival was being held. “Bea, what’ve you got in your pocket there?” Daisy reached toward her without an answer or invitation, and produced a pair of weighted, silver handcuffs.

Bea lunged for the cuffs back, a smirk in place on her features.

“What on earth could you possibly need handcuffs for at a music festival?” Daisy asked, eyebrows raised in genuine confusion.

Returning the cuffs to her pocket, Bea shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, the smirk from moment’s ago still tugged the edge of her lip upward. “It’s been my experience that you just never know when you’ll need ‘em. Be good Daze, or I’ll use them on you.” And Daisy supposed that after a couple of choice alcoholic beverages that could start to sound like one hell of a fun proposition.

“I literally don’t see him anywhere Bea,” Hannah sighed heavily.

Daisy glanced at Bea’s better half; a hand shielded her gaze from the onslaught of the sun’s rays as she stood on tiptoes to scan the expansive park around her. “Who are you looking for?”

Hannah dropped back onto the balls of her feet; her bottom lip wedged between her teeth like she was anxious about something. “Did Bea not tell you?” She peered over at her girlfriend, expectantly. “Did you not tell her?”

Bea rolled her hazel eyes and murmured “shit.”

Daisy’s vision narrowed. “What’s going on?”

Hannah squinted over at Daisy, kicking aside a stray pebble with the toe of her pink platform sneaker. “We uh… We invited Alex and some of his friends to join us for the weekend.”

Her mouth suddenly devoid of all moisture, Daisy wished that she had a bottle of beer in her hand, or some other ice-cold alcoholic beverage to distract her from the heat rising steadily to her cheeks. Tongue thick in her throat, she turned to her friends. “You invited Alex Skarsgård to our Osheaga weekend?” Shifting from side to side uncomfortably, Bea eventually nodded her head in the affirmative. Daisy took a deep breath. “I just think that might have been good information to know before now.”

“You wouldn’t have come…” Hannah interjected.

A humorless laugh bubbled up from the base of Daisy's throat. “You’re probably right.” Hives of people from all over the country milled about the green hillsides, a myriad of accents and languages- mostly French, echoed throughout the vast park. Daisy raised her face to the heavens, reveling in the feeling of the late July sun on her skin and sighed heavily.

“What is it about him?” Bea asked quietly.

Daisy's eyes fell shut. “Where would I even begin?”

“Alright, here they come.” Hannah murmured.

Bea offered her dearest friend a sympathetic look but knew better than to touch her just then. “He wants to make it up to you, Daze.”

Daisy swallowed hard and followed Hannah’s gaze to the quartet of men currently striding towards them. He bore a striking resemblance to the man she had known a year ago, though his dark blonde hair was longer now, and stubble shadowed the underside of his chiseled jaw. Clad in a pair of dark jeans, a grey t shirt and a pair of black converse high-tops, a round pair of yellow tortoise-shell sunglasses sat perched atop his head. “I don’t need him to,” Daisy murmured. “Just try and help me keep my distance from him today, alright?”

Bea was apprehensive, but nodded her head in agreement. “Alright.”

“Good afternoon ladies!” Alexander exclaimed jubilantly once he had caught up to them. He greeted both Hannah and Bea with bear hugs like he’d known them his whole life, and not a mere couple of years. When he got to Daisy, she was surprised to see that his grin hadn’t faltered at all. “Hello Daisy. It’s nice to see you again.”

She offered him a wilted smile. “Hi, Alex.”

He faltered a beat before turning to the three men next to him. Daisy knew by the sight of them that they had to be related to Alexander in some way, each one a wide-eyed and giraffe-like carbon copy of the other. “Ladies, this here is my good pal Oskar, my kid brother Valter, and my other brother Bill.”

And God said, “Let there be Skarsgård’s,” and there were Skarsgårds.

Bea cleared her throat. “Alright, gang. Shall we check out the rest of the park? Find a watering hole?”

Alexander held out an arm before him. “Lead the way, friend.”

“How long are you guys here for?” Hannah asked as they made their way into a beer tent on the platinum grounds.

“Just for the weekend. Then I'm back to New York for a couple of meetings and then uh… these guys and I,” He winked at the three men next to him. “Are supposed to be in Stockholm for a wedding next week.” Alexander reached into his back pocket for his wallet and approached the bartender behind the counter. “Hey there. How are you?”

"Fantastic." A miniscule fan in the corner of the tent did little to blow any actual cool air around, and a slick sheen of perspiration bloomed over her neck and forehead.

“You must be pumped to be able to hear all the music from here!” Bill beamed at her.

She smacked the wad of pink bubblegum in her mouth, her expression deadpan. “Absolutely ecstatic.”

Valter cleared his throat to keep from laughing.

“Alright then. Uh,” Alexander squinted at the black chalkboard drink menu above him. “What have you got in the way of alcohol for shots?”

“Vodka. Gin. Tequila.”

He turned to the group, gaze expectant. “What are we all in the mood for?”

“Vodka!” Had been the resounding answer, and Daisy didn’t think she’d ever been more ready to shoot straight liquor in her entire life. The alcohol was rough, and it stoked the fire already roaring in the pit of her belly, causing beads of sweat to bloom on her forehead. They milled about for another fifteen minutes, and Daisy was awed by how much alcohol the seven of them had been able to consume in such a short amount of time. Some drinks came in the form of grotesque shooters- “We drink these all the time back home!”, others had taken the shape of ice-cold beers beneath the salvation of another tent. It occurred to her that the breakfast she had consumed a couple of hours ago was insufficient for the poison now in her system, and that down the line, it might pose a bit of a problem. For now, Daisy was simply content to sip whatever she was given, and to enjoy the first full day of her vacation.

Their first set of the weekend was the Foo Fighters- and by some stretch of a miracle, the festival gods had blessed her with a spot in the crowd that made for a fantastic vantage point of the stage. She was naive to assume that it would happen again, so she watched Dave Grohl dominate the crowd in unbridled awe, and without a care in the world. And when they played My Hero- she joined along with the sea of people around her and sang her heart out to every single word.

After the set ended, the seven of them managed to touch base again beneath a patch of glorious shade. “It’s come to my attention that you and I have some unfinished business, Daisy.” Alexander had to yell to be heard above the roar of the white noise around them.

Even surrounded by hundreds of strangers, Daisy felt inexplicably naked beneath his gaze and she shifted uncomfortably on the spot. “You don’t owe me anything, Alex.”

“I owe you an apology, Daisy.”

A sigh exited her mouth in the form of a puff of air, and she eyed the people walking past her with mild contempt. “Just for one day, just one, I want to know what it feels like to be tall at a concert.”

“I know how you feel, Daze.” Hannah fanned a hand in front of her face in a useless attempt to keep the sweltering heat at bay.

Valter laughed and traded sheepish expressions with Bill. “Unfortunately, we don’t.”

Alexander clicked his tongue and glanced down at her, azure eyes glittering mischievously. “View from down there not so great, huh?”

His tone brimmed with mirth and Daisy’s skin prickled under the heat of it; the urge to smack the smirk from his face was all-consuming. She stared up at him, pointedly. “As someone who probably shares- at least most- of their genetic makeup with that of the Brachiosaurus, I wouldn’t expect you to understand what it’s like.”

His guffaw was loud and booming, and it caused Daisy’s heightened blood pressure to soar beneath the scorching Montreal weather. “Yeah, well, every woman in your maternal bloodline for the past one hundred years was probably four foot eleven, tops. You take what you’re given, kid.” Silence hung between them and Daisy shot Bea a look that simply said, ‘you did this to me, and eventually you will pay for it’. Alexander cleared his throat, oblivious to the mounting tension. “Look, if you want I can hoist you onto my shoulders for the next set and then you’ll know exactly what it’s like to be tall at a concert.”

Daisy took a deep sip of her beer, her defiant gaze trained on something unseen before her. “Your concern for my experience here is heartwarming, really it is, but believe me when I say that I’d rather suffer down here.”

Alexander shrugged and shook his head in mild amusement. “Suit yourself then, half-pint.” Venomous words threatened to erupt from her throat, but they stayed lodged where they were, because just then and with the expertise of someone who was inexplicably well-versed in the act, Bea had managed to clasp a silver handcuff around Daisy’s left wrist. She stared at it in alcohol-induced amusement, and suddenly everyone around them was laughing. She lifted her arm to try and shake her wrist out of it, but a heavy weight dropped it back down to her side, and the realization that the other half of her cuff was bound to Alexander’s right wrist, was sudden and all-consuming. She swallowed hard.

“While admittedly funny for the first few milliseconds, I’m going to have to insist that you unlock us now.”

Bea levelled her honeyed gaze with Daisy’s and smiled sweetly. “Relax Daze. You’ll be free of each other by nightfall.”

All Alexander could do was howl. “Nightfall? Good luck-" He managed in between fits of laughter. “Getting the kid to last half an hour!” When his laughter had subsided, he cleared his throat and glanced down at Bea, his blue gaze twinkled roguishly. “C’mon Bea. Let us out, hm?”

Bea shook her head and patted the miniscule outline of the key in her pocket. “Last set of the day. Nightfall. I promise.”

There had been protests from both sides, but for as strong-willed as Daisy knew her best friend to be, she also knew that she wasn’t in the business of giving in easily and the pair of them gave up trying while they were ahead. While mind-numbingly irritating for the first few hours, the all-consuming heat eventually zapped Daisy of her ability to care about anything except for cold drinks and air conditioning, and she supposed, begrudgingly, that there were worse people to be chained to for a day. It was only after their lunch of tacos and beer from a local food truck- Daisy and Alexander sat atop a bed of grass, knee-to-knee, that they realized they had managed to get split up from the rest of the crew. But if either of them had been worried about it, they didn’t let it show. “Who are you most excited to see play here?” Daisy asked for no reason, other than she could think of nothing else to say.

Alexander tipped the neck of the beer bottle to his lips with his free hand and took a hearty gulp. “Who am I most excited to see? Who are you most excited to see?”

She rolled her eyes. “You can’t answer a question with a question. Besides, I asked you first.”

He pursed his lips together as if he were thinking hard about it. “The person I am most excited to see, have been waiting all year for… has to be Cardi B.”

She stared at him, deadpan. “You’re kidding.”

“Actually, I’m not. I’d tell you to confirm with Valter but he is, very conveniently, missing in action.”

Daisy laughed suddenly, and it was a laughter that came in waves and spurred on his own, each of them nearly doubled over as they gave in to their fits. “Gonna to do the WAP?” She breathed out when she could manage it, wiping away traces of saltwater with the pad of her thumb.

Alexander feigned solemnity. “Listen, I would do the WAP dance right this very minute if it weren’t for these cuffs.”

“I believe you.” She giggled.

"I'm glad." His face broke into a beam that put sunshine to shame. Draining the rest of the bottle, he set it back onto the grass and cocked his head to the side. “And you? Who are you most excited to see?”

Daisy stared up at him, the answer had been ready on the tip of her tongue, but something in his eyes stopped her dead in her tracks. “You have the loveliest flecks of gold in your eyes, did you know that?”

Alexander’s gaze fell to the grass beneath him, his smile painfully shy. “Let’s find us some more beer then, hey? Up on three.”

“Good plan. But we have an issue to resolve first,” Daisy murmured.

Alexander faltered; his head cocked to the side in question. “You mean- apart from the one where we are currently joined at the hip until Bea decides to take mercy on us?”

Daisy nodded. “Right. Besides that one. I have to pee… really bad.” He opened his mouth to say something, but a chuckle roared from the base of his throat instead, and Daisy swore it was like hearing laughter for the very first time. There was an infectious joy to it that made her want to make him laugh like that for that for the rest of her days.

“Alright. Let’s find you a washroom.”

It hadn’t been a difficult venture; platinum tickets holders benefited from the use of private on-site washrooms, and it occurred to Daisy that the astronomical price for the ticket was worth it, solely based on that luxury itself. “I’m sorry that this a thing you are being privy to.” Daisy muttered as they squeezed into a stall together.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, I’ve been privy to worse things, kid. I’ll turn away.”

As Daisy hiked her sundress up her frame and squatted above the toilet, she reminded herself that revenge was a dish best served cold, and that one way or another, Bea would pay.

Alexander and Daisy’s afternoon continued in the same fashion; they attended whatever sets piqued their interests, lost track of how many people commented on their unusual predicament, and satiated their parched throats with lots of cold alcoholic beverages. Finally, the golden sun began to sink low over the Montreal skyline, and the temperature drop that came with it was a welcome reprieve to the day's stifling heat. They found themselves amidst a healthy crowd of people, all breathless and ready for one of the final sets of the evening. As she waited for the band to take the stage, Daisy suddenly felt exhausted beyond all measure, but also satisfied in a way that she hadn't been accustomed to in years. She could pin it on the alcohol, or the heat, or that she had finally allowed herself a couple of days off to do whatever she pleased. Deep down, she knew it had nearly everything to do with her current company.

“Where did you go just now?” Alexander asked.

Daisy glanced up at him, confused. “What do you mean? I’m right here.”

He seemed unconvinced. “You were a million miles away.”

A shiver wracked her body that had nothing to do with the current weather, and she gestured to the stage. “The Lumineers. These are the guys I'm most excited to see.”

Alexander beamed down at her. “Well then how lucky am I that I get to see them with you.”

Two men entered the stage just then, one stepped up to the microphone, and the other took a seat behind a drum set. Daisy didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until the opening beats of Sleep on the Floor rang out into the humid air before her. A cacophony of cheers erupted from the concertgoers around them, and goosebumps bloomed in patterns over her arms when the bearded man began to sing.

Pack yourself a toothbrush dear

Pack yourself a favorite blouse

Take a withdrawal slip

Take all of your savings out

‘Cause if we don’t ever leave this town

We might never make it out

I was not born to drown

Baby come on

“The key is gone.”

The day’s final concert had done Daisy in, and she was inexplicably tired now; her legs heavy like lead, eyelids threatening to shut on their own at any second.

“What do you mean the key is gone, Bea?” She heard Alexander ask. His voice was level, but there was an underlying tinge of frustration to it that made Daisy’s stomach sink.

“It’s… it’s gone. I had it in my pocket earlier and now it’s gone.”

Daisy yawned wide, the urge to lay down on the patch of grass beneath her was almost too tempting to bear. “I’m tired, Alex.”

“I know, kid.” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Where did you last have it?”

Bea tugged the edge of her lip into her mouth and shrugged her shoulders, helplessly. “I last had it in my pocket.” Dozens of people pushed past the group on their way out of the park; on their way home to waiting bathtubs and beds and Daisy was unbelievably envious of them.

“Alright. This is what we’re going to do,” He sighed. “The four of us are going to get into a cab, we’re going to head back to the hotel, and Daisy and I will meet up with you guys right here tomorrow morning. If the key still hasn’t turned up, we’ll have to figure something else out.”

“I’m really sorry about this, guys.” Bea muttered lowly.

You absolutely should be, Daisy thought.

Hannah cleared her throat, her arms crossed tight across her chest. “Are you alright with this Daze?”

She nodded, wordlessly.

Their uber ride back to the hotel only spanned the entirety of fifteen minutes, but it seemed like a lifetime to Daisy. She drifted off on Alexander’s shoulder to the lulling sound of muted Swedish between the three men, and when she was gently tapped awake by Alexander, the car was parked outside of the Four Seasons. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you into bed, hm?”

“This is fancy…” She murmured, as she slid out of the open car door and into the humid evening air.

Valter laughed heartily. “Just wait til you see where you’re staying, Daisy.”

The boys bid themselves goodnight, with Alexander slinging his free arm around each of their shoulders in a half-embrace. He waited until he knew Bill and Valter had made it into their elevator safely, and then led Daisy to a discreet elevator off the lobby, which they rode to the top floor wordlessly. She wasn’t sure what she had expected when the doors opened, but her breath hitched in her throat as she drank in the room in which Alexander was calling home for the next three days. “This is-

“A lot, I know.” He murmured. They wandered past the single king bed, into the next room, whose expansive bay windows offered a breathtaking view of Montreal’s twinkling downtown lights. Daisy gazed down at their entwined wrists, at the small metal chain that bound them together, and marveled at how a mere twelve hours had the power to change everything. “Daisy, I’m sorry.” Alexander spoke above a whisper now. “I’m sorry for leaving you behind last year.”

She took a deep breath, the words thick at the back of her throat. “I never should have put you in a position where you felt that you had to choose between your career, and me.”

Alexander’s fingers found hers, and he squeezed them thrice. “You waltzed into my life when I least expected it, Daisy,” An incredulous sigh pushed past his lips and he shook his head. “A breathtaking hurricane of a woman. I made the decision to ask you to dinner, I should have showed up.”

She smiled tiredly. “You showed up today, Alex.”

He leaned towards her, pressing his lips to her temple, and his laughter rumbled through her and warmed her in ways sunshine never could. “And look where we are now.”

She gazed up at him, at the deepened creases next to his eyes, and the subtle flecks of gold among a sea of blue, and in that moment, she hardly cared if they ever found the key at all. There was an effortlessness to that truth that felt akin to breathing. “Nowhere else I’d rather be, Alex.”

When Daisy's eyes opened in the morning, the weight of Alexander's impossibly warm arm hung snug around her clothed stomach, the cool metal of his cuff a stark contrast to her warm inner arm. The Montreal sunlight pouring in through their bay window glinted off a miniscule key-shaped object on the rug a few feet away from where they lay, and a small smile tugged her lips skyward.

#i just wanna go to a concert with him #is that so much to ask #alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard oneshot #alexander skarsgard imagines #alexander skarsgard fluff #alexander skarsgard fanfic #rpf #writing #drabble #fluff #alex sstuff

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pellucidity-is-me · 3 years

Text

Remus Lupin Meets Newt Scamander

Summary: The year is 1971. Remus and his friends are invited to Slughorn’s annual Christmas party, and Remus is introduced to an unexpected guest.

Wordcount: 3086

"Remus Lupin!" bellowed Slughorn as Remus and his friends arrived at the party. Remus cringed. "Well, well, well! You ended up coming! Come in, come in. You boys are very well-dressed. Yes, yes. The festivities are in full swing!"

Remus could tell. It was so loud—louder and more chaotic than a Quidditch game, with shouts and screams and house-elfs running all around and the scents of tens of students and food and confetti and music—the music was so loud—and his skin was all clammy and the full moon was less than a week away... Heightened senses, to the non-werewolf individual, seemed to be a blessing. They were not.

Remus smiled at James, who was looking worried. "I'm fine."

"You're pale."

"I'm always pale."

"He's got a point," said Sirius, laughing. "Come on, James, let's go dance!"

"I'm not leaving Remus all alone. He's scared..."

"I'm not scared!"

"Boys, boys, boys," said Slughorn ambivalently. "I actually have someone that I want Remus to meet! Wonderful person. Very famous! I invited him here myself."

"I'll come," said James immediately.

"No, no!" chortled Slughorn. "You go dance! He'll be with me. He's okay! Right, Remus?"

Remus nodded. "You three have fun. I'll catch up later."

Sirius pulled James away, and James didn't protest. Peter followed them, his face alight with happiness.

And then Remus was alone. He wasn’t sure he liked being alone.

Wait, no. He wasn't alone. Unfortunately, Slughorn was standing right next to him... yes, Remus would have preferred solitude.

Slughorn put his hand on Remus' shoulder, and Remus jumped and shooed his hand away instinctively. "Calm down, my boy! I'm not going to hurt you! There, now, this way, then..." Slughorn was shouting over the music, and Remus' ears hurt. He let himself be guided away, trying not to inhale too deeply. He sort of wanted to go home.

Slughorn stopped in front of a man with a large gob of curly, greying hair and blue eyes. "Here, this is who I wanted you to meet! Have fun, you two!" Slughorn said something else that Remus couldn't quite make out before ambling away.

Remus, who now thoroughly regretted coming to the party, glanced at the man (out of the corner of his eyes, since it was impolite to stare). The man was tall. He was holding a glass of punch. He, like Remus, very much looked as if he wanted to be somewhere else. Remus stood there silently, unsure of what to do. "Well, this is awkward," said the man.

Remus tried to laugh. "Er... yeah."

"Yes," the man repeated, and then he lowered his voice a little. "Listen, I... well, I'm not a fan of parties. Too stuffy and loud. Slughorn's watching us, but if I create a distraction... we can slip out the back. Undetected. Sound all right to you?"

Remus nodded a little. He wasn't sure what the man meant by "distraction", but he reminded Remus a little of James. And James' ideas were sometimes stupid, but they usually worked out.

The man reached into a briefcase and pulled something out, clenching it tightly in his hands. "Here, watch carefully," he said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He opened his hand wide, and three pixies flew out. Remus gaped.

The pixies flew around the room—one landed right on top of Slughorn's balding head. Chaos promptly ensued. The man motioned for Remus to follow, and Remus did—sure enough, there was a door in the back of the office, and Remus managed to slip through without Slughorn noticing.

They ended up in the corridor, and Remus kept following the man. He guided Remus through another door. Now they were standing directly in front of...

"A broom cupboard?" Remus asked in disbelief.

"Shh!" said the man, pushing Remus into the cupboard. It was a very large cupboard, as cupboards went, and there was plenty of room for the both of them. Much better, at least, than the lavatory in which Remus had been trapped with James Potter earlier that day (it was a long story).

The man entered behind Remus and shut the door, lighting up his wand so that they could see. "This is the largest broom cupboard at Hogwarts," he explained. "I spent plenty of time in here when I was your age."

Remus was confused. Why would anybody spend that much time in a broom cupboard?

"No, no," said the man suddenly, looking at Remus' face. "Not... not snogging or anything... how old are you?"

"Eleven," Remus said.

"Oh. That's probably not what you were thinking, then. Er, I didn't have a lot of friends. Came here to be alone. I don't like people much. Honestly, I'm surprised: this cupboard is in exactly the same condition as it was when I left. Sorry to push you in here, I just thought that perhaps Slughorn would come and hunt us down. I'm... er, I'm quite famous, and he was pushing me to come for what seemed like hours. I didn't want to, but he's... persuasive. Well. Annoying."

Remus giggled a little. He was entirely overwhelmed.

"I'm not sure why he wanted us to meet. Not a big creature fan, are you?"

"No, sir," said Remus.

The man waved his hand. "No need to call me 'sir'. I never grew up to begin with." The man chuckled nervously, and Remus was amused in spite of himself.

"You said you're famous?"

"Yes. A little. I wrote one of the textbooks. And did a bit of field work, some research, you know. I'm currently writing a children's book. Did a few political things, too, though I'm not proud of all of them. Erm, don't tell anybody. I don't... I don't really like being famous? I know that sounds like such a privileged problem, but I'm not a fan of being stared at."

Remus could relate. "May I ask you your name?"

"Oh! Right. You must be so confused; how impolite of me." The man stuck out his hand. "Newt. Newt Scamander."

Remus stared at his hand in horror. Newt Scamander?

"Do you know who I am?" the man asked.

Remus knew exactly who he was. Of course he did. Every werewolf on earth knew who Newt Scamander was, and not for good reasons. This man—the polite man standing in front of Remus Lupin, who was a werewolf—had created the Werewolf Registry.

"N-Newt... Scamander? Er, I..."

"Are you okay? Are you ill?"

This man was the reason that Remus had to suffer every single January—was why he was questioned by people who hated him—was why the Ministry knew about his condition and hated him for it. Remus had read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. It was one of the most famous books on earth, and it had been penned by Newt himself. Remus had memorized the paragraphs that Scamander had written on werewolves. It was all correct, of course, but was also very scholarly. Remus ran through the words in his head, and there was no indication as to whether Scamander hated werewolves or not. No bias whatsoever—not one way or another.

It didn't matter, though. It didn't matter! Even if Scamander didn't outright say that he hated werewolves, his actions had certainly proved that he did. How could someone who respected werewolves as people possibly think that they should be marked and listed like animals? It was humiliating, it was degrading, and it was the worst part of the year by far besides Remus' twelve annual transformations...

Remus hated Newt Scamander.

Did Scamander know, though? If he had created the Registry, did he keep up with it? Did he pop in every so often and check the lists? Had he met Remus before? And why on earth did Slughorn think that Remus would want to meet Newt Scamander? Of all people?

Scamander dropped his hand and leaned in a little closer. "Being a magical creatures expert, I can read body language fairly well. You don't like me, do you?"

"I... sir, I..." It was not flattering that Scamander had just compared Remus to a magical creature, though he probably hadn't meant anything by it. Remus thought he might be sick.

"What's wrong?"

"I... er, my friends are waiting for me. I think. I should go..." Remus tried to open the door, but Scamander had locked it. That was disturbing. "Sir! I really need to go..."

Scamander held his hands up. "I'm not going to hurt you; I just want to make sure you're okay. In my experience, frightened animals tend to do reckless things—and although you're not an animal yourself, I like to think of magical creatures as people."

Remus was confused. In essence, Scamander had just compared him to an animal again. But then he said that magical creatures were people. Scamander was tilting his head now, and Remus felt a little like some sort of specimen of which Scamander was trying to gain the trust. The thought did not improve matters.

"I'm not going to do anything reckless... I only want to find my friends..."

"Pixies," said Scamander, completely ignoring Remus' pleas. "The Cornish variety. Not sure what they're doing now, but that horrid man certainly deserves it. Er, don't tell him I said that. There are only three pixies in that room, of course, but three can wreak as much havoc as ten. Fortunately, any somewhat adept witch or wizard can get rid of them. I expect someone has it under control. Most every staff member probably knows that they belong to me, of course, and they’ll keep them safe until I return. Cornish pixies also recognize faces; they know that I'm the one who feeds them. I've set them on numerous people, and they've found their way back every time. Quite useful, don't you think?"

"You shouldn't use a magical creature," Remus said boldly. During Scamander's speech, his fear had well given way to anger. "For any means. They're not tools."

"Good point, good point," said Scamander, unfazed. "I always try to give them a choice. If they prefer, they can go back into my briefcase. But I find that pixies often like wreaking havoc. So it's more of a win-win situation. I know what they want, trust me."

"I don't," Remus mumbled.

"Know what they want? Well, taking Care of Magical Creatures in your third year might help with that. That was my favorite class, you know..."

"No, trust you. I don't trust you, sir, and I want to leave."

"Oh." Scamander still did not look hurt; more like thoughtful. "Well. I suppose humans need choices, too. I'm sorry for keeping you here, I thought that perhaps I could help you feel more comfortable. But I, er, often overestimate myself. Hope you're all right. You don't look well, you know."

Remus tried the doorknob, but Scamander was still rambling, and the door was still locked. "I don't know a thing about humans, to be honest," Scamander babbled. "My wife always wants me to stick around, even when she verbally asks me to go away. Confusing, if you ask me. Not all magical creatures are the same, but at least they don't get bogged down with words. Language is ever so confusing, don't you think? Creatures don't do things like sarcasm and lying."

This one does, Remus thought dryly, and jiggled the doorknob a little more loudly. Scamander was obviously lost in thought, however. "I can't think of why you wouldn't like me, though. Oh, well... that sounded pretentious. I mean, you seemed to like me all right before I told you my name. What have I done that merits such fear? I don't think I'm particularly terrifying. I mean, not everything I've done has been good. Never really been proud of the..." Scamander's voice trailed off and his eyes drifted to meet Remus'. There was silence.

This was it. Scamander was going to kill him. Turn him over to the Ministry. Tell everybody.

"Well, that makes sense," Scamander mumbled. "Er. This complicates things, doesn't it?"

Remus suddenly remembered that he was a wizard as well as a werewolf. He pulled his wand out of the pocket of James' robes and tapped the door. "Alohomora," he said, and then he fled down the corridor.

Remus never once imagined that he'd be escaping to a party instead of from it.

~~oOo~~

It had been a very long day for Newt Scamander.

Currently, he was trying to catch a Pixie who was swimming in the punch when Slughorn tapped him on the shoulder. Newt inwardly groaned. "Sorry, Horace," he said. "The Pixies must have gotten loose while I was..."

"No matter, no matter!" said Slughorn lightly. "Where's...?"

Newt held up a hand. He really didn't want to know the boy's name. That would only complicate things further, and he figured that the boy deserved as much privacy as he could get. Newt lowered his voice. "You wanted me to meet him because... of his condition?" Newt wasn't a hundred percent sure that Slughorn knew, so he was being intentional about stepping around the subject. Although he wasn't sure how the boy could attend Hogwarts without the staff knowing...

"Of course!" said Slughorn, absolutely jovial and not nearly quiet enough. "Seeing as you created the Werewolf Registry. I figured he knew who you were! Oh, and there's someone else I want to introduce you to... a boy in Slytherin, an absolute magical creatures whiz..."

"Please lower your voice; I assume you're sworn to secrecy and we're in a public place," said Newt sharply. Slughorn definitely knew... unfortunately for the boy. "Do you actually know what the Registry is?"

"Of course," Slughorn scoffed. "The sub-department in the Ministry that keeps the Werewolf Register. I know you're much cleverer than I am, but I do know some things!"

"It's not pleasant, the Registry," said Newt. "Not pleasant at all. Sort of like..." Newt hesitated. He wasn't sure how to word this. "Sort of like staying at St. Mungo's, but you feel fine and all the Healers hate you and treat you like a criminal."

"Hm," said Slughorn, not comprehending this at all. That was fine. It hadn't been a very good analogy, after all. "So, how did it go? I figured you two would get along. You have a lot in common, you know..."

"Werewolves don't like me, Horace," said Newt slowly. He couldn't fault Slughorn for failing to understand a complex topic that didn't concern him at all, but it was a bit annoying. "I made their lives twice as complicated. The Registry was a good idea in theory—it felt necessary during the war—but it's incredibly badly-kept. So all it does is alienate werewolves even more. If they're Registered, they're subjected to dealing with the horrid Ministry workers who keep it. And the only werewolves that really need to be monitored are the Unregistered ones. I am not very well-liked in the world of werewolves."

"Oh," said Slughorn, looking remorseful now. "But he's..."

Newt shushed him. "I do not want to hear his name, or any other information about him. Just..." Newt rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Leave him alone, would you? I'm sure he has enough to deal with. Now, where is this Slytherin student of yours?"

~~oOo~~

Remus was hiding behind the curtains in the back of the room, drinking a glass of punch. It tasted a little odd so close to the full moon (the strawberries were over-ripe), but overall not bad. He wasn't exactly sure what to do.

On one hand, maybe Scamander wouldn't tell anyone. Then Remus could continue to stay at Hogwarts, even though he knew he was on borrowed time and his friends would find out at any moment. On the other hand, if Scamander did end up telling someone, he could be in serious danger. Logically, he should be in Dumbledore's office by now, all packed up and ready to go.

But he just couldn't bear to leave Hogwarts, even though it was loud and stressful and he was terrified out of his wits. Remus was a little odd like that. Perhaps, he thought with a smile, it was the Gryffindor in him: recklessly staying in a place that could turn on him at any moment. It was stupid, Remus knew, but maybe James and Sirius were rubbing off on him.

Or maybe it was just because he was all emotion-ed out today.

Suddenly, the curtain pulled back and Scamander was only a few feet away. Remus wasn't sure what to do, so he nodded at him and took another sip of punch. Maybe Scamander was going to curse him within an inch of his life. Or actually kill him. Or turn him over to the Ministry and come up with a false story about how he was an irredeemable monster.

Well, he was an irredeemable monster, technically. One night a month, at least. And there was nothing Remus could do about it now, was there? Remus figured that he really was emotion-ed out; he was usually much more expressive than this.

"Hey," said Scamander, a little breathlessly. "How are you?"

Remus looked at him and blinked. "Wonderful."

"I'm sure," said Scamander with an odd sort of laugh. "I'm not going to tell anyone. Thought you ought to know."

Remus nodded slowly. "Thank you." He wasn't sure what else to say.

"Well. Have a nice day." Scamander turned to leave, and then he paused and turned around again. "And... I'm sorry. Really." Then he gave Remus a small smile—still looking him in the eyes, to Remus' great surprise—and said, "Sorry. Leaving now."

Remus watched him go, entirely befuddled. Then he went to go join his friends, who were trying to teach a wayward house-elf how to dance. It was his last evening with them, after all, and what was a little noise and discomfort compared to what was going to happen next week?

~~oOo~~

Looking back, Newt was glad that he had gone with the simple apology. Because really, there were no words. Being famous and influential had more disadvantages than perks, but Newt had always been a responsible person.

Somewhat, he thought with a snigger as he remembered how he failed History of Magic for five years straight.

AN: This is a scene from my fanfic (link in blog description) and I totally forgot about it until I started editing it lol. Little bit of a Christmas special!

#newt scamander #remus lupin #harry potter fanfiction #marauders era #fantastic beasts #of marauders and monsters #pellucidity

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