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whorediaries-09 · 19 days

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imagine eldest daughter!reader not being able to love anyone and flinch whenever someone touches her, and remus being the only person that can touch her and stay with her while she wants to be alone

oh wow. did u really have to...call me out like that?

archer;

pairing- remus lupin x reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort, details of child abuse, touch sensitivity. (let me know if should add more) a/n- i really went ✨self - indulgent ✨ on this one.

ps- the beginning is from the movie 'five feet apart'. it's a really good one, make sure to check it out.

little train

' i've been the archer, i've been the prey.'

touch. the first form of communication. it began with a soft caress of the finger. or the brush of lips on cheeks. it connects one in the times of happiness, bolsters one in the time of fear and excites one in times of passion and love.

to be touched, was to communicate the feeling of security, the feeling of safety and comfort. but to understand the importance of touch, was different, was difficult. to need the touch from the one you loved was as important as the air needed to breathe.

and you understood it's importance, the need when you had none. perhaps it was because you didn't feel the security, the feeling of being safe when you were being touched. even a simple hug or a handshake could set off ringing bells in your head.

it reminded you of the time when your mother would slap down her hands on your back for a small mishap like spilling the juice on the floor. or burn her cigarettes onto your skin, punishing you for wasting the juice and make you clean up.

'you stupid bitch! i don't have enough fucking money for you to spill juice all over the stupid floor!' she'd scream, boxing your ears. she'd pull you by your ears, taking a ladle and letting the wooden handle rain on your back, make you understand the consequences of your mistake.

'please don't cry angel, she'll beat you again,' your father would comfort you, rubbing a cool soothing balm on your burning wounds. you'd cry into the safety of his arms, his callous and rough palms soothing you. his voice was deep and warm, and he'd hold your face close to his chest to let you cry, so your voice was as muffled as possible. the tears would stick on your face and you blacked out, the exhaustion so deeply rooted within your body. you'd fall asleep in his arms.

because the monsters were gone, and your dad was home.

it was difficult to make friends within the community of witches and wizards. where everyone had their own fears but they had mastered the facade of pretend, to hide behind their smiles. and even in this difficult time, when the war was at large, people still found a way to sneak in a ray of hope and happiness into their life.

they appreciated the hugs and kisses. they never knew when they'd lose it. so you watched from a distance as ron weasley was smothered in kisses by molly weasley. and even though he puckered up his face, by his calm stature, you knew he enjoyed it. he liked it and appreciated it.

but oh how you hated it. you hated the fact that you'd have to stand different, reflect within the clouds of happy cheerful faces. perhaps it was you who was in the wrong. you hated the fact that you flinched when somebody tried to touch you. you wanted to feel the same comfort the others felt when they were touched.

'want another drink?' hermione asked, grabbing your attention from the overwhelming scene that played out in front of you. mrs. weasley going around and distributing gifts amongst the children. hermione had been scratching a purring crookshank's ears. your eyes darted down on your lap, where your finger circled around the rim of the empty cup.

'no thanks,' you smiled.

'you must try the eggnog! sirius is the best at making it!' harry said, a proud smile on his face. sirius threw his arm around his shoulders.

'it's fine harry, i'm sure you've never tried other variations of eggnog, if you find mine to be the best,'

'it'll always be the best to me, sirius,' harry said. sirius let out his usual bark like laughter, his gray eyes full of a raw emotion. in harry's eyes, he saw himself to be the father figure he never had.

'you flatter, me harry james potter, you really do.'

'he's not flattering you sirius, you know your way around the kitchen.' remus said, walking through the door. he set down his battered coat onto the chair. with a loud creak, he pulled it out his chair.

you noticed the aging lines around his eyes and lips. his usually pale skin was red. you assumed it was due to the lack of a muffler and the cold gusts of wind that blew outside. he tried to warm himself up by blowing air within the crevice of his palms and rubbing them together. when he noticed you staring at him, he smiled at you.

'merry christmas,' he whispered. his voice was deep and rich, a beautiful vibrato from the depth of his throat. you gulped slowly, watching as the redness from his face slowly faded as he gave you a warm smile. you felt your heart drown in an inexplainable cozy feeling. you smiled back, toasting the air with your empty glass.

'merry christmas,'

the marks on your skin were evident. to be best described, they were like crescent moons staining your skin. the cause, however was not as pretty as the description.

to be wearing full sleeves on a hot summer day was exhausting and itchy, but it was the only solution to hide the burns from the time when your mother had decided to use you as her ashtray. the abuse had been settling upon you. your mother had been growing sicker as each day passed by.

and grief was a weird thing. you wanted to be sad that your mother was sick, and as each day passed, the days of her life were coming to and end. the woman that birthed you, that cared for you- that threw you into an emotional turmoil when your brother was born was dying.

you didn't feel grief, but neither did you feel happy. you were numb, trying to escape the coddling fumes of the tremendous torture you'd been through. to try and be the best role model for your brother.

to try and not keep a corpse in the cradle.

and again, in the realms of your plethora of emotions, you were numb. you didn't feel the pain when you jumped in front of the curse that was thrown at sirius, dodging him away from the soul trapping veil. it was like a white hot curse that burned through your skin and your mother's voice echoed in your brain.

your eyes closed, and while you could still hear your heart beating and the obnoxious screams, you let the darkness succumb you into a madness of sereness. perhaps you'd meet your mother again. perhaps you'll ask her if she ever loved you. perhaps, you'd asked her why she'd have to make you adore her with her hands around your neck.

perhaps you'd ask her the reason she set fire to the rain.

so, when your senses start numbing and you feel yourself falling on the cold hard ground with your head bursting open, you let the blood flow. you don't dream of the warm, calloused hands tending to your wounds and buying you ice cream to allow your mood to lighten. you don't dream about the monsters who were gone when your dad was home. perhaps you'd meet your dad when the world succumbs.

the moonlight filtered through sheer curtains, falling on your face. the sheets underneath you were warm and cozy, pulling you into a beautiful haze of sleep. your eyelids were heavy when you opened them, and you slowly tried to move around, searching for recognition of the place.

you could only recognize the slumped up man sitting within the folds of his jacket. his hands were wrapped around a folded newspaper. his mouth was open slightly, and through the lens of your groggy drowsiness, you could see the lines on his chapped lips, the wrinkles around his eyes. his spectacles dangled off the edge of his nose.

slowly, under the sheets, you wriggled your toes to feel your body. you suddenly felt as if you were on fire. as if somebody had slayed you alive. you were laying down, for once, and not escaping the endless turmoil thrown at your back. for once, you didn't feel discomfort laying down and not doing anything. but it was hot under the sheets.

'sleep well?' remus asked, rubbing his eyes and fixing the angle of his spectacles. it surprised you, and you flinched slightly. he gets up, keeping his jacket on the chair he'd been sleeping on.

the dark circles under his eyes seemed to have deepened. you felt his eyes wander over you. he lower lip was tucked under his teeth, his hands buried in his pockets. he waits patiently for you to answer.

'yes, mr. lupin. where am i?'

'call me remus please. you're at my house. the order's headquarters weren't safe for you anymore. that's because the death eaters are after you. well specifically bellatrix, because you dodged the curse she threw at sirius. for old times sake, she wanted to end it for once and for all.'

you gulp slowly, letting the realization settle into you. you move your fingers slowly under the sheets, testing your capacity to move. you felt bandage clothe rip into your skin.

'you've broken your fingers.' he says moving closer to your form, lying on the bed. 'it's brutal, because your skeletal muscles have been damaged too. do you understand?' he says patiently, gently. you feel a clump in your throat which burns down into your very core. it makes your eyes water.

'y-yes,' you say, your voice wobbly. he stands beside you, letting you fight your tears. he doesn't say anything. and perhaps, you don't want him to.

it's as if, he can't ever leave you. as if he would stay. so, for once, when his gentle, calloused hands touch your body, helping you sit up, you don't find yourself running away from him. you find yourself chased into his warmth, which echoes a gentleness that stills your heart.

because, there's no invisible smoke, or a fire within the crevices of your body. he helps you hold onto him.

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taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

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a/n 2- i know this is a self indulgent statement, but if any of my sirius girlies want me to write something like this with him, please let me know!!

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin smut #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #kinkotober #remus lupin fanart #werewolf

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ssahotchnerr · 8 months

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writings! part two of my masterlist <3

part one -> here

* - contains explicit sexual content minors dni

✽ - suggestive content

aaron hotchner <3

we’ll be okay

collisions

sunscreen

let it out

personal heating pad

kisses at 3 am

friendly competition

newest addition

to your rescue

all thanks to you

thoughtfulness

finishing touches *

dozing off

gentle reminders

the horrors of math

calling bullshit

according to plan ✽

monsters

keep the light on

dad’s way

routine and a tease ✽

makeshift

soak it in

unconditional

enough

unwilling to part

perfect pair

simultaneously

celebrated

cooking up trouble ✽

unreservedly

everything

new traditions

baby steps

bittersweet remarks

distractions ✽

hidden efforts

when easy isn’t easy

something special

making spirits bright

lovestruck and eggnog ✽

well worth it

uncharted territory

making memories

personalized

something exhilarating

too married

imaginary

take the bench

like dad does

public displays of affection ✽

the parentals

off guard ✽

stay with me

not so friendly competition

the one

priorities

speculation

my hero

stains

all imagines/headcanons can be found in my #let’s talk aaron <333333 tag!

greg montgomery <3

nothing yet!

all imagines/headcanons can be found in my #let’s talk greg <3333 tag!

#let’s talk aaron <333333 #let’s talk greg <3333 #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds fanfiction #greg montgomery x reader #greg montgomery #dharma and greg #greg montgomery smut #thomas gibson

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octuscle · 4 months

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Visiting relatives down south for the Christmas season. I always dread it. All my cousins are so much younger than me, just fresh out of high school, and they’re all such dumb country meatheads. I feel completely out of touch around them. I wish I could fit in better, just to make the holidays easier.

Dude, your cousins are kids. They are six to ten years younger than you. Why do you want to spend time with them? Do you want to smoke secretly behind the shed and push cows around at night? Then you'd better stay in Boston, you'll never have any real fun that way….

You're a sophomore in college. Economics and business math. Your dorm is emptying more and more just before Christmas. But you just don't feel like flying to South Carolina. But it doesn't help. Your mother is a family woman. And even though she has always lived in New England since she went to university and met your late father there, she always made a point of celebrating Christmas on the farm. Well, for your mother's sake…

There are a few other of your colleagues on the bus who are studying business administration and are about to do their MBA. You chat about your plans for the holidays. You're looking forward to playing football with your cousins. You're the big boy, they adore you.

Thank goodness you're only flying with hand luggage. A bit of dirty laundry, that's all you have with you. You buy presents in old Pete's general store. And you can certainly borrow clothes from one of your uncles. Most of the time you'll be hanging out with them and talking about the farm anyway. You're about to finish your master's degree in agricultural sciences. Yes, most people here think you're a nerd, but as long as you win at arm wrestling, your word carries weight.

Uncle Mikey picks you up at the airport. You can finally take off that damn thick down jacket. It's wonderfully warm. You don't talk much on the drive to the farm. You don't talk much at all. You're more men of action than men of words. And Mikey quickly gets down to action. By the time you're on the highway, he's already jerked you off. You love the holidays in the south.

Technically, you're their nephew. But your mother's younger brothers are barely older than you. And you are, after all, a trained agricultural machinery technician. Most of your family struggled to finish high school. In any case, you and your uncles are inseparable. Christmas Eve is your traditional tractor pull. Mikey has prepared his protein eggnog. Another tradition is that you have to empty the punch in one go. And you invented the tradition.

Burp! That was a good one. Hehehe! And let's see who can pull the six-ton monster the fastest the 100 yards. You may be a kid from the big city by now, but winning is a matter of honor!

Pic found @eurobeef

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #inked man #age progression #redneck tf #xmas tf

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

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What about eggnog and cryptid/monster reader we can be menacing weirdos together

(This is with a younger Eggnog and a "milkman" entity reader for some background)

Elisha sniffles as they're lead to the basement. It's so cold, but no one will give them a blanket. They're promised that once they come back they'll be allowed to have all the warmth they could ever desire. Everyone will be so proud of them too. Elisha likes the sound of that.

They clutch the ends of their robes as the door opens. Their feet dig into the floorboards, toes and fingers numb. A shove sends them into the inky abyss of the room. Had it not been for the railing, they would've fallen straight down the stairs. The door clothes without so much as a glance from those outside, leaving them all alone.

Elisha wipes their tears and descends the steps. Their eyes adjust to the dark, but they can't see past their own feet. A potent, coppery smell floods the air the closer they get to the bottom. They nearly lose their footing on a puddle on the second to last stair. At the ground floor, Elisha can see nothing - except for two eyes peering back down at them. They break down crying.

"Why are you crying?..."

The voice is soft and curious - a far cry from the voices who asked them that question before.

"Because I'm alone... Everybody always leaves me."

"I'm right here."

"You don't love me... They said that they did, but then they left me in this scary place. I just want someone to love me."

The shadow blinks. "What is it like to be loved?"

Elisha rubs at their eyes, lips furled in confusion. They don't really know. "It's.. when someone gives you their jacket when you're cold. When they hold you so that neither of you are cold. They sing to you, kiss you.. tell you love you."

The room quiets with nothing but the sound of Elisha's sobs.

"That... sounds nice."

Their cries grow louder.

"Will you love me?"

Their arms fall to their sides. "W..what?"

"If you'll love me, I'll love you back. I'm not hungry. Those people keep sending their flock down here in hopes I'll be happy if I'm well fed. That I'll make more of them. I don't want that anymore. I want to be loved."

A hand reaches out from the dark. It's clawed and drained of color, but they can feel the heat radiating from it. Elisha takes their hand and steps into the shadows. They're enveloped by them, wrapped in unseen warmth and the body that it originates from. They want to apologize for their tears, but they're so tired. They want to keep hold of this warmth forever - and when the basement door opens for the next time, the pair walk out together. They don't know what this warmth this, but what they do know is that it's one thing.

Love.

You gag and playfully push Eggnog off your lap as they lick the corner of your mouth. "Eggs! Your tongue went in my mouth that time! How are we supposed to clean the cabin up if you keep jumping on me like that?"

Eggnog rolls their tongue over their lps and smiles. "Warm."

#Milk farm tag #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere hybrid #yandere drabble #yandere angst

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showstopper35 · 5 months

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Transformers Holiday Headcanons (TFP)

a/n: writing this in my study hall. requests are open if you want more tfp content!

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⁺₊

The kids (and June) decorating the base. They put up large stockings for the bots. Agent Fowler's stocking is red, white, and blue.

Obviously, the bots don't have Christmas, or Hannukah, or anything else. There's a decent amount of Christmas-inspired holidays mentioned in various comics or episodes, but I don't think any are particularly canon. It's hard to have holidays when you've been fighting for eons. Most of their culture has been lost, and holidays are a part of that.

So they participate with the humans...as best they can. Tinsel is wrapped around their tall legs, and Optimus puts the star on the Christmas tree. I personally hc Raf as Jewish, and Ratchet gives him a present on the last night.

Miko gives Bulkhead tickets to a monster truck show. How they will manage to pull that off without blowing his cover is unknown.

Ratchet banned mistletoe from the base.

Smokescreen and Bee use the ground bridge to bring snow to the base. Raf makes a snow-man and Miko throws snowballs at both Bulkhead and Ratchet before it all melts. Ratchet complains about the mess for days.

Optimus reads the "Twas the Night Before Christmas" poem, and is very confused about it but is glad he could participate in a human tradition.

Ultra Magnus does not participate but gets a stocking anyway.

The energon is spiked, the eggnog is not

Bee plays Christmas music as loud as he can, starting November 3rd. Nobody appreciates it, except Miko when he plays her rock 'n' roll Christmas playlist.

June knits Ratchet a red-and-white steering wheel cover. He is very touched but would never say that.

Arcee is fond of ornaments and is the most careful about not breaking them. June lets her pick out one on Amazon; it's a little bicycle with an elf riding on it.

The cons are...much different. They don't have humans hanging around them, but Knockout or some other con who likes elements of human culture might mention the holiday season. They probably wouldn't do much for it besides get drunk and take a day off of plotting the Autobot's demise.

Starscream still receives coal on Christmas day, though. Nobody will tell him who gave it to him.

Soundwave does get presents for Laserbeak, though. :)

#maccadam #maccadams #transformers headcanon #tfp #transformers #tf #tfp headcanons #christmas #christmas headcanons #hannukah #happy holidays #holiday headcanons #transformers holidays #optimus prime #bumblebee #transformers prime #i love christmas so much

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tavshortfortavern · 4 months

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Celebrating the Winter Holiday with Npcs

Winter approaches and the festive season is upon them. You get a little homesick watching everyone spend the Faerun version of the Holidays and decide to hold your own little festivities. The guys support you celebrating the winter holiday the way you did so back home.

Note: some stuff here includes Christmas tradition since it the only one i'm really familiar with

Zevlor

Cuddling with him near the fireplace. A plate of cookies and two cups of hot cocoa nearby. Your admiring the snow falling outside the window. He's watching the light of the fire light up your appearance, wondering how he got so fortunate to be with you in this moment.

The one who really wants to learn and celebrate your holiday traditions. Helps you anyway he can in setting up any decorations or activities. Loves baking gingerbread cookies and eggnog with you. Sets some aside for the children. Tell him stories of your childhood spending Christmas. He's always fond of hearing about your life back home. Eager to learn the history of your traditions and why certain customs came about. You would be humming some holiday-theme song as you bake. He would quietly listen. Sing some of the lyrics to yourself and he'll ask about them, wanting to hear more songs. Of course you hang a bunch of mistletoe in every doorway. He's curious at first, falling into your trap wanting to ask what their for. Your answer makes him double-take as he realizes where you and him are standing. He chuckles and says you could always ask him for a kiss, but pulls you in for one, honoring the custom. He's really pleased when you keep catching him underneath one, always indulging.

Dammon

He's brought out of his work when you approach him with a cup of hot chocolate. A nice warm drink while the air remains chilly even with the heat from the forge. He takes it with a smile as you scold him for forgetting to wear a scarf outside. The drink was sweet, yet not as sweet as the feeling of you tug the soft fabric around his neck.

Somehow if you have Christmas lights, he's following you around as you hang them up, enamored with them like a kid. Careful, he might mess with the wires trying to figure out how they work. Watches them light up and turn different colors with wide eyes. He's there when you set up a tree and enjoys decorating it. Helps you make the ornaments too. Loves the result, sitting on the floor next to you watching the lights flicker on the tree. If you need a boost, helps you up to hang the star at the top. You had to shoo him out of the kitchen when he kept trying to eat the batter. Likes making gingerbread houses with you. Makes something elaborate probably and actually holds up. Chuckles at you hanging mistletoe everywhere. Really loves this custom and also hangs them everywhere. Careful, its a minefield of kisses now. You might have created a monster.

Rolan

He appreciates the romantic dinner you prepared for him at his tower. Despite all his grumbling about the holidays, its important to him his loved ones enjoy these occasions. There's a soft smile on his face watching snowflakes fall on your face, and an even softer one the next day watching you and his siblings open your presents.

Ah. Classic Scrooge over here. As more festive spirit grows, his grumpiness grows larger. Really, its the cold. He can't stand it and won't go outside without a bunch of layers on. His nose and cheeks probably gets redder, flush from the cold. Appreciates you cupping his face with your hands to warm it up. While he acts all grouchy, will encourage you to enjoy the holidays how you see fit. Just for you, he modifies a dancing lights spell to around the tree, imitating Christmas lights. Standing a bit to the side, watching with no small amount of fondness as you make a snowman with his siblings. You make a bunch of them, some were a little...disfigured. The three of you made a snowman with a large frown and named it Rolan the second. Scoffs when he learns what your doing with the mistletoe. "Nice try. You know I don't always have to indulge you?" He will. Gets more flustered the more you corner him.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #bg3 dammon #bg3 rolan #bg3 zevlor #bg3 drabble

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