#I really hope I'll manage to post all fics around this time! <3

[osamusriceballs]

Kinktober Day 1 <3

Oikawa & Titfucking

Warnings: NSFW, fem reader

Words: ~ 1,2 k

Kinktober Masterlist II -> Next day

"C'mon, you need to try a bit harder, beautiful," he taunts you, his voice sweet like honey, like a soft caress on your skin.

"Can I please touch you? Please, Tooru, I need you," you try to coerce him into giving into you, but he still smiles at you pitifully, not showing the slightest attempt to let your wrists go. "I don't think that was convincing enough. Maybe I just need to make you wait a little longer."

A hiccup gets stuck in your throat and you wiggle in the tight grip of his hand while his teeth graze against the shell of your ear. "How about this? You get to touch me, and I get to fuck these pretty tits of yours? Does that sound good?" His free hand gently traces the outline of your exposed chest, and a shiver runs down your spine at the small action. Your back arches, your chest pressing tightly against his bare one, and you nod frantically, hoping to ease him into giving you more- and he finally releases your wrists, his hands softly caressing your cheek and your arms before he moves both hands down to your exposed chest. You gasp when his thumb caresses your nipples, the bubs hardening under his skillful fingers, his touch soft, yet with just the right amount of pressure to have airy breaths escape your lips.

"You can touch me wherever you want, pretty girl." The kind smile never leaves his face as he cups your tits and presses them together, making sure to "accidentally" brush his fingers over your nipples a few times again, his eyes taking in every single one of your reactions, reveling in the way your breath stocks for a second. "Sensitive here, beautiful?" At this point you think it's impossible for Oikawa to address you without a sweet nickname, and all of them seem to directly reach to your core and make your heart flutter even more.

His adjusts his position, making sure that his weight is not crushing you, but still pinning you to the bed before he finally lines up his cock at your tits. You let your now freed hands wander to his thighs, that seem even more muscular and defined ever since the Argentinian sun has shown its effect on him. The lean muscles tense under your fingers, and your breath stocks for a second when he suddenly spits down on one hand and languidly strokes his cock, right in front of your face, coating your chest with a bit of his saliva too.

You roam your hands to his abdomen, feeling him flexing at your touch, a deep breath leaving his lips, as he visibly gulps and focuses on your face while he strokes his cock. "Please, Tooru- fuck my tits, and then fuck me, please-" you whine, your hands wandering to his chest and feeling his heart pounding under your fingertips. You pause when he suddenly releases his cock, his expression changing from relaxed and understanding to determined and greedy for the first time, and he abruptly catches your wrists on his chest to bring them down to your tits. You get the hint and cup them, and he nods approvingly at the lewd sight of you, bare under him, your hands cupping your tits and your thighs clenching together, your needy and desperate expression making his breath stock for a second. He caresses your cheek gently one last time before he presses his cock against your tits, that are now dripping and glistening with his spit, one of his hands guiding the tip between them.

A low "fuuuuck" leaves his lips as he starts to buck his hips and fuck your tits, the tip of his cock hitting you chin every now and then when he thrusts his hips extra hard. Groans and whimpers leave his lips as he starts to pick up his pace, and the sounds turn you on even further, his desperate groans making the wetness pool between your legs. His eyes constantly move between your face and the way his cock moves between your tits, eager to see all of your reactions, and you blush feverishly under his intense gaze. You press your tits even further together and loll out your tongue, trying to get a taste of him whenever he thrusts hard enough, and his jaw drops at the sight- the sight of his beautiful wife begging for more. "More Tooru, use me, please-" his pace gets even faster at your words, his hips now feverishly bucking against your body as he chases his high, both of you knowing that he will finish soon. One of his hands comes to rest on your shoulder, while the other grasps the sheets, the muscles on his arms straining from the pressure, and the desperation is clear in his eyes as he fucks you with no restrain. The sheer force has your toes curing and your body aching for more- more of him. "Fuck- just like that- I'll-" broken words escape his lips, his teeth digging into his lower lip while you moan his name and lick the tip of his cock whenever you get the chance to, drool now coating your chin and dripping down to your neck. The sound of his cock fucking your wet tits is lewd enough to bring even heat to your cheeks, and you squirm under him, your walls clenching at the thought of him fucking you like this next.

You feel him tense and see how his muscles pop out when he finally cums, coating your chin and your chest in white, the feeling of it so lewd and so dirty, yet so forbidden good. You can see how he turns even more feral at the sight, his hips bucking one last time, his balls loudly smacking against the fat of your tits before his body loses all tension. He takes a few deep breaths, his brown eyes fixed on the mess he made on your chest, barely able to look away from it. "Fuck, you look so hot like that, love." His eyes roam to your face and you suppress the urge to turn away- because the intensity of his stare makes shivers run down your spine. He notices the shift in your face and he is quick to bring his hand to your chin to turn your face to him and to lean down to connect your lips with his. "I love you. You're my everything." The soft caress of his lips makes you almost explode from love but also from the aching need between your legs that he still needs to tend to. You're pretty sure that he notices the way you rub your legs together, at this point begging for any friction to ease to your needs- and Oikawa knows exactly what you need.

A mischievous smile sports his lips when he pulls back, and his thumb collects some of his cum on your chin and brings it to your mouth, forcing your tongue down and making you swallow the liquid.

"C'mon now, pretty girl. Show me how ready you are for me. Spread those legs for me, and I'll make you feel really good."

#kinktober #kinktober day 1 #haikyuu kinktober #oikawa #smut #oikawa smut #oikawa x reader #I really hope I'll manage to post all fics around this time! <3 #I'll do my very best! #ENJOY EVERYONE! <3 #I have used random kink generators for all the days! #to make this a personal challenge for me #I kind of like the outcome #the next day feel kind of scandalous ngl #but in a good way! <3 #sleep well everyone! <3 #i have two weeks off from work #so I'll definitely be more active <3

[dungeonfood]

Hi!

I was reestructuring the chapter layout for the LaiosxBeastkin!Reader fic and found myself at multiple crossroads, so I decided to make a poll to see what you guys thought!

First, a link to said fic, in case you haven't read it and would rather do so before spoiling yourself here. There's three posted chapters at the moment, and a fourth old one posted on the collection, if you can't wait until the rewritten one.

Then, I've made a small layout of the chapters so far, outlining the character's feelings so far (which I hope I managed to convey, otherwise this is all useless haha)

Chapter 0 - reader and laios meet

Reader is suspicious and wary, but joins the team with hopes of a better life while the party is there

Laios is interested in them, but mostly as a monster/beastkin

Chapter 1 - preening -

Via exposition, it shows they had some trouble at first, but it's better now

Reader trusts Laios - even enough to ask for help and letting him touch the.

Also explores the fact that they’ve felt lonely and untouched for a long time - with feelings possibly developing from this newfound contact?

Laios is interested in them as a monster, but also sees a bit of the person side, humanizing them in his eyes. Feels mostly pity (projection from his own past, ostracized?), but also enjoys spending time with them.

Chapter 2 -

Reader trust on Laios has evolved - they feel comfortable around him, deeming him a safe space

Laios feels a little crush - For one, this monster person likes his smell!

But more than that, even if he doesn’t really rationalize it, he feels good at the thought of someone feeling safe with him- liking him. He doesn't dwell on it much though.

Chapter 3- it won't expand much on their relationship. but i'm preparing for the next ones!

My planned paths forward are:

Focus on their developing feelings and build their relationship. Plenty of fluff (and some smut!)

Make a more drama-driven story, with less focus on the relationship. More lore and contemplation of the philosophical kind

Of course, both paths will explore both 5heir relationship and the lore, since they are both integral parts of the story.

But i'm debating between a more simple, fluffy, (horny), feel-good story, and a more dramatic, high-stakes, lore-driven story, with more complex relationships perhaps, and some angst, since realistic relationships aren't very easy (so it might tackle some character flaws and such that might make things more complicated)

And then, there' the second crossroad:

Horny reader can be:

A more submissive, helpless type

A more dominant, predator style

I do have my personal preference, and of course I'll still end up writing what I like best, but i would like to know your thoughts!

Sorry for the long post! Here's the poll!

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi imagine #dunmesh #laios/reader #laius x reader #laios touden #laios touden imagine #laios x reader #polls

[bachissidehoe]

it's only just begun - isagi y.

chapter 1 of 7 of the blue lock band series. chapter 2. chapter 3. chapter 4. chapter 5. chapter 6. chapter 7.

synopsis: y/n was the number one fan of the underground alternative rock band known as "Blue Lock", who after earning a well-deserved following through a viral single, left her wondering if they'd even remember her if they saw her- if he'd remember her. and why would he? y/n's no longer the only Blue Lock fan to have an unrequited crush on their lead singer.

warnings: smut; fingering; penetration; overstimulation; degradation; unprotected sex; dominant isagi; fem reader; minors DNI

disclaimer: all songs referenced are credited to THE DEEP END

note: my first fic on tumblr! pls show some love and i'll be posting more content here from now on :)

w.c. 4.3k

And just like that, Blue Lock was no longer her secret little band that she felt like she had all to herself. It was fun while it lasted, but when their single “It’s Only Just Begun” took off almost a year ago, y/n slowly fizzled out of Isagi Yoichi’s life into the category of just another fan of his. 

She can’t help but feel a little upset at times, she really enjoyed talking to Blue Lock’s front man nearly every day. It felt like she was part of it. She remembers when they were writing their hit song and Isagi would run some lyrics by her- after all- it only makes sense that Isagi would take his #1 fan’s professional opinion into consideration. 

As for the other band members- it’s likely they knew of her. They followed her on Twitter and occasionally replied to some of her comments. But it was nothing like her closeness with the lead singer. 

Regardless, she still follows every single one of them on all social media and keeps up with their new releases. She even follows their manager and their stage director. And she’s proud of them, too. They’re a good band, they deserve this. They’ve always deserved to become as famous as they are now. So when their tour dates were released, y/n was the first in the queue, purchasing a single ticket.

And now she stands among the large crowd, the large crowd they deserve, listening to the beautiful sound of Isagi Yoichi’s voice followed by cheers and screams from his thousands of adoring fans. She can’t even bring herself to sing along, not even with the harmonies of the other band members, she doesn’t want to drown out any of his hypnotic, captivating voice. The way his mouth moves against the microphone, his vocal fry when he hits a high note, how he tosses his hair to the side to shake the sweat away, his smiles to the crowd- she wonders if he remembers her. 

Alright, fine. Maybe y/n had a crush on Isagi Yoichi: the lead singer of Blue Lock, the man of many talents who not only sings like an angel, but plays guitar, keys, and even the saxophone. Maybe y/n still does have a crush on Isagi Yoichi. 

She probably wouldn’t be waiting with a crowd of much younger teenage girls by the backstage exit in hopes she’d get to catch a glimpse of him on the way out of the venue if she didn’t have just a slight crush. She probably wouldn’t be telling herself “I’ll wait all night if I have to” if she didn’t have just a little crush on-

“Excuse me?” 

Y/n turns around, catching the eyes of a woman about her age, dressed in the venue’s work uniform. She points to herself, mouthing “me?” to the woman. 

The woman nods.

“Yes, what’s up?” She asks, stepping away from the crowd so she can hear her. 

“I just have a quick question, do you mind stepping off to the side?” The woman asks politely, professionally. She works here, obviously, so maybe it’s important. Maybe they found something of hers she dropped somewhere.

Y/n shrugs, looking back at the crowd for a moment. She’ll surely lose her spot, maybe even lose her chance to catch the eyes of Isagi Yoichi on his way back to his hotel. But it’s probably dumb anyway. She seems to think seeing him will make him want to talk to her again, maybe even fall in love with her, maybe even-

“Sure.” She says, ditching her childish chances to date the band member of her dreams. 

“I’m sorry to pull you away.” The woman says. “I just didn’t want to say anything too loud over there.”

“What do you mean?” Y/n tilts her head to the side. 

“Are you l/n y/n?” 

“Yes.” 

“Great! I was told to look for the girl dressed in the blue skater skirt and fishnets, but there’s quite a few of those around.” She chuckles. 

“What is this about?” Y/n asks again. 

“Oh, my bad. One of the band members said he knows you. So he was hoping you’d wanna come back and say hi.” 

Y/n’s heart flip flops in her stomach, and she instinctively squeezes her legs together to prevent the inevitable moment where said heart drops out of her body entirely. He remembers her- or at least one of them does. Enough to notice her in the crowd and ask to see her. She could scream. She wants to run back over to those teenage girls and tell them they lost. 

“Are you fucking with me?” Y/n asks, a look of shock plastered across her face. 

The woman laughs. “No, no. I’m serious.”

“I- I-” She stutters, trying to collect herself. It shouldn’t be like this. They’re just old friends, she doesn’t need to act like a deer caught in the headlights. She takes a breath. “I’d love to say hi.” 

Suddenly she’s being snuck around to the back of the venue, through a door, and down a long hallway. She considers the possibility of this being a joke and her being robbed and murdered, but she’d honestly rather that than miss the chance to see Isagi Yoichi. 

“You found her!” An ever familiar voice, a gorgeous one. It reaches her ears and penetrates the deepest reserves of her brain that she’s set aside for content relating specifically to him. 

And he’s there, sitting on a plush beanbag clutching his guitar, his hair sweaty and stuck to his forehead. 

“Isagi.” Y/n breathes out, smiling, her heart racing. It feels like it’s going a mile a minute. It didn’t actually fall out of her chest before, but it very well might now.

And Isagi, he’s beaming. He’s cheerful as ever, likely hyped from the amazing show they just put on. 

“Y/n!” His expression changes to a light, playful smirk. “Thought I told you to call me Yoichi.” 

“I- um-” She stutters, wishing she’d just be able to play it cool. “You’re right. I guess it’s been a while.” She scratches behind her head, becoming increasingly aware of the many eyes on her standing at the door of their backstage common area. 

“I missed you!” He stands up, leaving his guitar strewn on his beanbag chair as he walks over to her, wrapping his comforting arms around her shaky body. 

He missed her.

“I- missed you- too.” She manages. “You’re amazing.” 

“Oh stop.” He shrugs off her compliment with a kind smile. “Guys, remember y/n? She was one of our OG’s.” He turns toward his band mates, one of his arms lazily strung over y/n’s shoulders. It might actually send her into a psychotic spiral. 

“How could I forget the one who helped us decide on “always be the anchor in the back of my mind” for that verse?” The gorgeous lead guitarist flashes her a flirty smile. 

And y/n’s attention is suddenly directed toward someone besides the lead singer- the other six people in the room besides a few workers- the members of Blue Lock, the up and coming alternative rock band. 

Isagi Yoichi: Lead singer, keys & guitar Chigiri Hyoma: Lead guitar, vocals Nagi Seishiro: Backup guitar, vocals Itoshi Rin: Bass guitar, vocals Itoshi Sae: Drums Mikage Reo: Band manager Bachira Meguru: Stage director

“Chigiri, yeah. I did help out with that one, huh.” She giggles. “Great to see you again, and um, great to meet you.” She directs her attention to the manager and stage director, who were relatively recently brought into the scene. By the time Mikage and Bachira were hired, the band had already gotten fairly famous, and y/n had already basically lost touch with the original five members. 

“It’s an absolute pleasure.” Bachira smiles.

“Great to meet you, Blue Lock’s number one OG fan.” Mikage greets her. 

Of course, in obsessively keeping up with Blue Lock’s endeavors even after Isagi stopped talking to her personally, she’s well aware of the story behind Bachira and Mikage’s addition. Bachira is Isagi’s high school best friend, and Mikage is Nagi’s high school best friend. When she found out the two of them were brought on, she honestly was a little jealous. But they’re just as gorgeous as the band members, and meeting them in person is sending her body into overdrive. Plus, with Isagi’s arm still over her shoulders, she may as well be dripping down her leg. 

“C’mere, we have so much to catch up on.” Isagi leads y/n over to the couch, sitting her next to Nagi as he sits back in the beanbag chair across from her. 

“Are you catching up on the bus ride? Because we’re leaving for the hotel.” The unbothered drummer speaks up. “Or you can stay here and fuck her on the couch for all I care.” 

Y/n can almost feel her skin melting off at Itoshi Sae’s comment. 

“Hah! Well we’re not playing here again, so who cares?” Chigiri chimes in with a laugh, slapping the older Itoshi’s back. 

“May as well go back to her place.” Nagi shifts his body slightly, bringing his left thigh flush against y/n’s on the couch. It looks like he’s hardly noticed, but y/n definitely has. It makes her want to press harder into him, maybe even lay on top of him- the irresistible snowy-haired fan favorite. “I’ll come too.” 

“No you won’t.” Isagi playfully rolls his eyes. “And nobody’s going back to anyone’s place! I just wanted to say hi and talk to her!” 

“Unfortunately, Isagi, Sae’s right and we do have to be heading out.” The manager chimes in, holding his phone to his ear as he talks to who y/n can only assume is the tour bus driver. 

“Gonna have to talk to your lukewarm girlfriend another time.” The younger Itoshi slings his bass over his shoulders. 

Itoshi Rin was definitely insulting y/n just now, but she still feels an electric pulse rocket through her body when his emerald eyes meet hers. He could insult her any time. Plus, he called her Isagi’s girlfriend. 

“That’s all good, um, I’m glad I got to say hi-”

“No! Sae’s right, just come back to the hotel and hang for a bit.” Isagi suggests. “I feel bad, I haven’t talked to you in forever, I missed ya.” 

Y/n feels like she could combust, knowing that everyone else in the room is considering Isagi’s potential ulterior motives. She only wishes that were the case. She could only dream of him wanting her in that way. Even in all their time talking, he never made a move on her. They only met in person a single time and he was nothing besides friendly, so it never made sense for her to be forward with him about her little crush. 

“On- on your bus? To- the hotel?” She gulps. 

“Unless you have something to do. Don’t worry, none of the fans or paps will see you or anything if that’s what you’re worried about. Reo will handle all that.” 

Right. They probably do this all the time with girls. Obviously they’d have a protocol when bringing a girl back to their hotel. Even so, that’s not what she’s worried about at all. 

“I don’t have anything to do! I’ll come with you!” 

“Y/n, do you have a car here?” Mikage asks, already thinking ahead with making arrangements.

“No, um, I took the train-”

“Great!” He turns around, typing feverishly into his phone. 

“When you’re done with her, send her over to me.” Chigiri winks. He was always the shamelessly flirtatious type, frequently jumping into frame when Isagi was facetiming her just to make a quick flirty comment. 

“No way dude.” Isagi jokes. 

And with that, she finds herself shuffled away and snuck onto the tour bus, snuck off the tour bus, and snuck into Isagi Yoichi’s hotel room. 

“I wanted to say I’m sorry, you know, for like stopping talking to you.” Isagi walks around the room, a singular white towel around his shoulders, his hair still wet from the shower he must have taken while waiting for y/n to be gracefully snuck inside. 

“Oh, um, I-” Y/n struggles to focus, given that Isagi Yoichi is standing shirtless in a pair of gray sweatpants in her direct line of vision. And his body is fucking incredible. “It’s fine, um, I dunno, you got popular, uh-”

“Yeah I got popular, but it all went right to my head. I cut out so many people and I’m just glad you’re not upset with me. I know I’m touring now and stuff but I felt like seeing you at the concert was a good opportunity to apologize-” He trails off, noticing y/n’s dazed expression as she looks at him. 

“T’s all good.” She says, sounding like she’s from another world. 

“Uh, you okay?” He chuckles nervously. “You tired? Sorry for bringing you here I know it’s late-” 

“No! No I’m not! I want to see you, don’t apologize I understand I just, um, I miss being close with you and all, but you’re famous now! And you deserve it so-” 

“I know, it feels pretty good. But you didn’t deserve to just be unadded and unfollowed one day. It wasn’t fair, you were always so good to me and the boys.” 

“I- I was sad for a bit but I get it!”

“You were sad? Fuck, man.” Isagi sighs. “I know I hurt you, we were friends and I just threw it away because the fame got to my head.”

“No, no, I was barely sad- uh-” She panics, trying not to make him think he treated her anything besides perfectly. The last thing she wants is for him to remember her as that one salty fan he ditched. She’d rather him remember her positively, like someone who’s sweet, kind, an old friend. “I just missed you, it’s so good to see you! I never stopped listening to your music and supporting you, and when I saw you were coming here on tour I just had to go! I really am surprised you remembered me at all.” She chuckles nervously, her palms clammy and her eyes shaky. 

He’s really just standing here, trying to apologize to her, with his shirt off. How can she possibly focus on a serious conversation?

“You’re surprised I remembered you?” He tilts his head to the side. 

“Uh- well- I just felt like since you didn’t like me like I liked you I just thought you probably had other girls you were talking to or you know getting famous you’d want to like have girls and not really want me talking to you all the time-” It’s like her words are spilling from her lips before she can stop them, her eyes darting everywhere in the room besides Isagi. It’s like the things she’s been wanting to say to him can’t be stopped. 

“Hold on.” He stops her. “You didn’t think I liked you?” 

“Um, um at least not like that uh, you know-” She panics, her heart beating out of her chest and a layer of tears forming over her eyes. 

“Y/n, I wanted to apologize to you because I did like you, and I didn’t want to tell you that because if I was going on tour, I wouldn’t be able to see you. And I just cut you out instead.” He sighs. 

The words don’t even fully sink in at first. “Oh, okay.” 

“I liked you, like, the whole time. So I just wanted to apologize.” 

It finally starts to make sense. “It’s- it’s okay. It’s okay. I- you-” 

Isagi chuckles. “Maybe I can’t date you, but-” He leans down, placing a finger under her chin, forcing her nervous gaze into his deep blue eyes. “I could make it up to you, if you like.” 

His gaze is hypnotic, just like his voice. “I wanna, um, I- you- your-” She takes a breath. “Sorry.” She squeaks.

“Tell me what you want.” His voice is softer, slower, closer than before. She hasn’t heard this version of his voice before. It’s beautiful.

“I want, I want-” She takes another breath, a deeper one, one that lets her fully realize what she’s about to do. “I want you, Yoichi.” 

“Hm.” He breathes out. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He closes the gap, bringing their lips together, his finger still under her chin as he leans over her. 

Her hands grip the sheets, her legs shaking as she sits upright on the bed. Suddenly she feels like this is her first kiss ever, like she has no idea what she’s doing. 

His kiss starts out soft, but quickly devolves into something dangerous, something ravenous. His hand traces from her chin to her shoulder, his fingers pressing into her skin to push her backward. 

And she lets him. How could she not? His fingers feel like they’re leaving permanent marks on her skin, like she’ll never forget where he touched her chin, her neck, her shoulders. She finds herself looking up at him, reaching for the towel around his neck to bring his lips back into hers. 

In no time he’s on top of her, hungrily making out with her like he wants to devour her, his strong arms holding his body above hers as if he’d crush her if he were to let his weight crash down. She wouldn’t mind though, she’d be totally okay with him crushing her. 

“Always wanted this.” He breathes out, leaving a slight space between their lips only briefly before reconnecting them. His tongue slides effortlessly against hers, his saliva dripping from his tongue to hers. It’s so wet, and it tastes so damn good. 

She can only whine in response, reveling in his taste. She doesn’t have the space to talk anyway, not with his lips drinking up every single one of her noises. 

“Love those pretty sounds, fuck I’ve been missin’ out.” He shifts his weight to one side, tracing his other hand down her body to the hem of her shirt. “Want this off, baby.” 

Y/n licks her lips, completely dazed. “Off, baby?” She repeats, as if she’s shocked he would even say it. 

“Want it off, so fucking bad.” His voice is so lustful, filled with such a different tone than his normal, upbeat, kind attitude. He’s horny. 

“Mhm, please-” She lets him grab her collar, forcefully pulling her up so he can swiftly lift her shirt over her head. 

“Ahhhh-” He groans. “And I’ve been missin’ out on that?” His movements are rough, his hands forceful, needy. Within seconds her bra is discarded on the opposite side of the room, his tongue cascading over her nipples like he’s painting them with his saliva. 

She can’t stop herself from whining, moaning, it’s the only thing her brain can do while he sucks her tits like he’s trying to drink from them. He’s so different right now, he’s so dominant with her. She wants to sign her body over to him, she feels like her body should belong to him. 

His other hand slides to her untouched breast, his fingers moving to pinch her other nipple, kneading it as if he’s trying to bruise her. His hand trails further, traveling smoothly under her skirt to rest on her plush thigh. 

“G’na need these off too~” He slips his finger under the waistband of her panties, popping his mouth off her nipple to get through his sentence. 

“Mhm~” Y/n nods, her hands resting her hands behind her head as she lets his expert movements own her body. 

She’s dripping, she knows she is. The thin fabric of her panties wasn’t doing a great job of protecting her from her own arousal, but he slides them down her legs anyway, the soaked fabric leaving a trail of wetness down her thighs. 

“Hm~” Isagi chuckles, his lips wrapping back around her nipple like it belongs there, dipping his middle finger into her soaked cunt. “Look at you, such a wet little pussy for me.” He says, adding a second finger.

Her body is a mess, her voice is fried, her brain is mush. She can’t do anything besides submit to his fingers etching themselves into the memory of her walls like they’re shaping her body for him and him only. His mouth makes a mess of her breasts while his fingers make a mess of her inner thighs, pumping easily into her slick hole. 

“You’re already so ready f’me, but I need y’to cum first.” He gives his mouth a break, a final bead of saliva dripping from his tongue and landing on her already well-coated nipple. Without his mouth occupied, he goes harder with his fingers, curling them into her g-spot like he was the one who put it there in the first place. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck- ahh~” The breathless gasps leave her lips, her eyes snapped shut as she feels the aggressive knot grow in her stomach. 

“Y’need more? Hm? Bet you do, such a slut for my fingers.” He slurs, his thumb moving to rub quick circles on her throbbing clit. 

“I- gonna- Yoichi~” She whines, the knot exploding ferociously as she cums around his fingers, leaking out of her hole as if it was too full to stay inside.. 

“Ah there ya go, dirty girl.” He spits, sliding his coated fingers out of her aching pussy, directing them immediately into her mouth. “Clean me up, will you?” He forces them between her lips, her tongue circling over his fingers, soaking up every bit of her own cum. It’s demeaning, it’s degrading. But it’s so damn hot. 

“Taste good sweetheart?” He smirks, using his free hand to step out of his sweatpants he probably shouldn’t have put on after his shower in the first place. 

“Hm, f-fu-” She tries, her mouth too full to let any coherent words form. 

His cock springs out of its confinement, finally freed from the shackles of his boxers that struggled to keep him contained at all. And seeing the size of him- y/n wonders how any boxers would be able to survive without being shred to pieces by his gorgeous, thick cock. She wonders how she’ll be able to survive without being shred to pieces. 

“Scared baby?” Isagi smirks, forcing her gaze from his cock to his dark, lustful eyes. “Don’t worry, you can take it.” He leans down to kiss her, a menacingly soft, degrading kiss. “Either way, you fucking have to.” He places one last threatening kiss against her lips.

Before she can process it, his arms are wrapped around the backs of her thighs, sliding her ass slightly off the edge of the bed as he lines his cock up with her desperate cunt. The oversensitivity of her orgasm makes his tip against her hole even more intense. She can’t help but writhe against his grip almost animalistically, like she wouldn’t be able to stop if she tried. 

She’s wet enough for him to slide in easily, filling her up as if he’s carving out her hole himself. She wraps around him perfectly, squeezing around him in a way that causes his breath to catch in the back of his throat as he sucks in through his teeth. His nails dig deeper into her thighs, likely leaving a set of gorgeous nail marks she’ll surely cherish later. 

“Fuck~” His saliva pools in his mouth as he speaks, threatening to drip onto her exposed skin. “It’s like you’re sucking me in babygirl.” He breathes, holding her thighs tight as he begins fucking into her. 

Her fingers grip the sheets so hard she feels like she might rip them, she couldn’t have imagined being fucked like this, no matter how many times she got off to the thought of him back then. No matter how many times she’d play their songs in the background while she pleasured herself. She couldn’t have forced her brain to come up with a scenario where he holds her over the edge of the bed and fucks into her like she’s a doll. 

It doesn’t take long for his thrusts to become relentless, her cunt squelching with each forceful plunge of his thick cock. 

“Fuck, flip over.” He demands, though doesn’t give her any time to move her body on her own, flipping her body himself using only his tight grip on her thighs. “Knees.” He commands, and she does exactly as he says, propping her ass up and leaning forward on her elbows. 

“Damn, what a fucking nice ass.” He slaps her once, gripping the plushy skin as he sheathes himself inside her once again. “G’na fuck you hard ‘till I cum, kay?” He uses his other hand to grip her hair, shoving her face into the mattress. “Be a good toy f’me.” 

“Mhm~” She whines, though he wasn’t waiting for her confirmation anyway. 

His thrusts are somehow harder from behind, wrecking her pussy with every forceful push of his cock between her slick walls. He pounds into her, leaving her nothing but a whiny mess as her pleas are muffled under the weight of his hand pressing her into the bed. The pain is overwhelmingly masked by the pleasure of being fucked by him, Isagi Yoichi, the lead singer of Blue Lock, but even she knows she’ll struggle to walk- or even stand- after this.

“G’na cum, g’na fill you~” He grunts, sloppily thrusting a few more shaky times before painting her insides white, his cum overflowing her cramped pussy. He pulls out, finally letting up on his tight grip on her hair and ass, his cum spilling out along with him.

“Yoichi-” She finally manages, shakily rolling over onto her back. “That was-”

“Hm? You think we’re done?” He stands over her threateningly, immediately sliding one of his fingers between her used, overstimulated folds. 

“Babygirl, it’s only just begun.”

#blue lock #fanfic #anime #blue lock smut #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi x reader #band au #bllk band au #bllk fanfic #blue lock fanfiction #isagi yoichi smut #isagi smut #isagi yoichi x you #anime fanfic #anime smut #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer

[wolfjackle-creates]

My Writing Masterpost

List of Subscription Posts (Follow for Tumblr Notifications on any of my fics.)

Good Omens:

The Demon Piper: Crowley is in Hamlin, Germany in 1284 and offers to help the children of the town. They take him up on it and the legend of the Pied Piper is born.

AO3, 24k words, rated T

An Evening In: Human AU. Aziraphale has a bad day and Crowley promises to make it better. PWP

AO3, 18k words, rated E

Carry On: After the garden, the First Family has to find their way in the wider, more dangerous world. But Heaven and Hell aren't ready to leave them alone so Crawly and Aziraphale tag along. When Cain has the idea to sacrifice the best of his harvest to God, Abel also wishes to sacrifice the best of his lambs.

God chooses Her favorite and the First Family is left to pick up the pieces as best they can.

AO3, M rating (Prequel to The Demon Piper)

DP x DC Fics:

Bring Me Home: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and when Danny's parents take his reveal poorly, Tim helps get him safe.

Tumblr prompt fill, 3.5k words, M rating (for fandom typical violence)

Subscription Post

Alternative Reunion: This is an alternate way the original fill could've gone if Tim hadn't been there to get Danny out, but Danny still managed to escape to Gotham.

Rewrite - Friend Request (Arc 1): AO3; Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Silver and Gold (Arc 2): AO3; Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20

Arc 3: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Ghost!Robin Haunts Jason AU: Jazz is dating Jason, so she and Danny are invited to dinner at Wayne Manor to meet the family. Danny arrives and meets Jason for the first time only to be distracted by the ghost of the dead Robin that is hanging off of him. T rating

Original Prompt (and collab fill), Subscription Post

Arc 1: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

Arc 2: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Answer My Call: (Wrong Number AU) Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

T rating (might go up to M for fandom-typical violence)

AO3 Link

Subscription Post

Tumblr Links: Original Prompt and Fill, (actual) Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Part 1, Part 2

I'll Carry Your Heart (Until I Find You Again): Danny and Jason meet in the zone after Jason's death. They become friends (and more). But Jason doesn't think it's enough. He finds Desiree and wishes for his life back. But for every wish, she exacts a price.

Chapter 1: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Danny's Arc: Part 1

The Two Ghost Motel: Danny is tired.

Endless ghost fights with too many responsibilities and too little time; he barely passed sophomore year. When Ember visits town for a bit of fun, she mentions the Two Ghost Motel, a place of peace and refuge for restless ghosts who aren't ready to cross over.

“I’m fine, Ember.”

Danny’s got a home and friends. He’s fine, really.

But when his parents begin experimenting with electricity to destabilize ghosts, it’s too much for Danny. Unfortunately, neither Sam nor Tucker can host him for the night and he’s left wandering in the night, alone. Then he sees it: The Two Ghost Motel.

He checks in.

“Welcome.”

AO3

Tumblr: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Want to Hold on and Feel I Belong: Danny is finally settling into his new life with the Waynes and loves them. But then he finds out their secret identities. The Justice League works with the US Government. And the US Government funds the GIW. He won't go back to them. He won't.

Tumblr Links: Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Part 1, Part 2

AO3 Link

Empathy Verse: Jazz literally runs into someone outside the library when she's distracted. She's about to apologize when she feels the ghost-empathy radiating off the stranger. Instead she relaxes into his embrace.

Tumblr Link: Parts 1-5

Something to Feel: Danny moved to Gotham for university. However, the lack of other ghosts in the city is leaving him restless. He needs to get away from people and let off some steam.

Then he meets another halfa in the park. They're about to start fighting when Danny realizes their might be a more fun way to vent their frustrations.

Rating: E (smut)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Remember, Remember: Danny is a failed clone of Dick by the Court of Owls. Erasing his memory, they threw him out onto the world where he eventually got adopted by the Fentons. If the portal accident somehow knocked loose the mental block hiding his memories… Who knows what could happen.

Tumblr Link - 1k

AO3 Link - 1.3k

Electricity: Danny Phantom has been brought into the Justice League and it's great!

Or, well, it would be if Danny could be paired with anyone who wasn't an electricity user. The post-mission panic attacks are getting old and Jazz is worried.

Tumblr Link - 1.5k, T rating

AO3 Link - 2.4k, T rating

School Nurse!Danny: Danny gets a job as the nurse at Tim's school. He recognizes the type of injuries Tim comes in with almost immediately but doesn't say anything, happy to patch him up in the office or let him take a nap when needed. Until Red Robin decides to go out in costume the day after Tim was in his office with a broken arm. Looks like he has to call a parent-nurse meeting.

Tumblr Link - 1.6k words, G rating

AO3 Link - 2.7k

Memes!!!

Kidnap Buddies: Tim and Danny are both kidnapped in Gotham when the goons couldn't figure out which black haired, blue eyed boy was Tim Drake. They bond as they're locked up and Danny uses is powers to help them escape.

T rating, 1.6k, complete. Tumblr only currently

Solved with a Touch: Danny and Damian Twin AU. Danny seeks out refuge with his birth father after he is forced to leave Amity. But he and Damian just cannot get along. So much time has passed and both of them have changed so much that they just cannot figure out how to reconnect. Until Dick forces them to go to a carnival together and they get hit with Poison Ivy's cuddle pollen.

Tumblr only, T rating, 2.8k

Johnny and Kitty overshadow Batman and Superman: What it says on the tin. Danny thinks the Justice League is expecting him to take care of the ghost problem in Amity alone. But when he goes to Gotham apologizing profusely for letting Kitty and Johnny get past him, the heroes have no idea who he is. Or why he was left to deal with a problem so severe on his own. As a teenager.

Half filled prompt, opening scene with Danny rushing to Gotham. Then it skips ahead to the heroes discovering the state of the Fenton household in Amity.

Attack on Sight: Demon Twin AU. Danny is in Gotham with his parents and Jazz when he sees Damian. League instincts kick in and the two are at each other's throats before Jazz or Dick can intervene.

Tumblr only, 1.1k, G/T rating

Constantine Bingo: Danny is being introduced to the Wayne's as Jason's boyfriend. During dinner, he gets notice that he won that round of Constantine Bingo.

Tumblr prompt fill, 873 words, G rating

Stalker Danny: Jason is being stalked and threatened by some sort of pit demon. Danny hopes the new halfa he just came across will accept his courting gifts.

Tumblr prompt fill, 764 words

Justice League Mechanic!Danny: When Danny applied for his position as civilian engineer with the JL, he filled out the demographic information stating he was a half ghost. Apparently, a number of the heroes didn't get the message and are freaked out when his heart stops beating or he puts a pause on the whole breathing thing.

1,060 words, T rating

DC Only

Obligatory Truth Serum Fic: Tim Drake gets captured and injected by a truth serum. Now he has to escape both the up-and-coming villain and his family before he can be asked any questions he doesn't want to answer.

2k, G rating

#masterpost #my writing #fanfic #good omens #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc comics #batfam #fic names are not set in stone

[perseusannabeth]

Chapter 1

A/N: Hi everyone, and happy holidays! This is my contribution to the @acotargiftexchange for the lovely @talkfantasytome! I want to thank the organisers for this absolutely brilliant event. It's looking like this fic will be 3 chapters, so fingers crossed that the rest of the parts will come soon!

This has chef Cassian and writer Nesta, aka my favourite combo. I also have to warn you, as per usual, Cassian's Illyrian cooking is in fact how I cook as a south Asian person.

AO3 is currently down, so I won't be able to post this on there until later, but it will be added. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this!

Summary: Cassian is deeply concerned about the fact that his neighbour cannot cook at all. He decides to start cooking for her to save her from an early death, and it becomes so much more.

Cassian had lived in his current apartment for a long enough time to know most of the people in the building. It wasn't a massive building, so it wasn't hard to run into people. The only person he hadn't run into was his neighbour, who had moved in 3 months ago. 

Thankfully, there were signs of life, like the post being checked, and he could hear the door opening and closing. The most concerning thing he noticed was that his new neighbour seemed friendly with the fast food delivery drivers. Cassian didn't like judging food choices because he knew that people around him already felt self-conscious when they talked about food. Being a chef meant people assumed he knew best, but he could easily teach people he was willing to learn. Still, his neighbour was concerning him a lot. They must be on their way to a heart attack with the amount of fast food they consumed, and from Cassian's observation, they sometimes got food at least once a day or more. But Cassian had never assumed his neighbour's eating habits would affect him.

"So, have you seen her around? It's been a few days, that's all, and I'm a little worried about her," said his delivery driver, Toby. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so tired right now that my brain barely functions. Please, can you repeat yourself?" 

"Nesta, your neighbour. She orders from us daily, but I've not had any deliveries for her for 3 days. I'm just a little worried about her, that's all," Toby said, blushing now. The poor guy couldn't be more than 20 years old. At 20 years old, Cassian can't imagine he would've had the guts to do what Toby was doing, so he had to hand it to the guy. 

"I'm sorry, I haven't heard from her," Cassian replied, unwilling to admit he'd never seen her before and had just learned her name from Toby. "I'll check on her though, don't worry," Cassian said, to both reassure the man and to get him to leave because, god damn it, his food was getting cold!

"Thanks, man, I really appreciate it. She seems nice, and she tips really well." Toby smiled. Cassian just nodded awkwardly and then waited for Toby to finally (finally) move from his door. 

Cassian practically inhaled his food because, yes, he had promised his delivery driver that he would check on his neighbour, but if he was going to check on a potentially dead person, he would not be doing it while he was hungry. Fuck that; he had been in the restaurant since 6am, and he had planned on eating and then collapsing in bed. Now he had to check on his potentially dead neighbour because the delivery boy liked her tips!

By the time he had finished his food, he had managed to work up some energy, mostly just the rage he had to check on his neighbour and delay his sleep. Still, before leaving his flat, he checked his attitude at the door because he didn't want to be rude. He was being neighbourly, even if he was tired. 

When he knocked on the door and didn't hear any movement on the other side of the door, he was suddenly wide awake. He had horrific visions of breaking the door down and finding a corpse as he knocked again, trying to delay the rescue mission playing out in his head. When the door flew open, Cassian nearly jumped out of his skin.

The lady in front of him looked pretty annoyed at him, especially as he gawped at her like an idiot. Her hair was pulled up in something that might have once been a bun but was now just a tangled mess. She was in a long t-shirt that had seen better days; it was stained and faded, and underneath, she wore leggings that were in a similar state. But somehow, despite all this and the deep bags under her eyes, she still was the most beautiful woman Cassian had ever seen. 

"Can I help you?" The woman said, giving him a quick once over. 

That snapped Cassian out of his trance. "Sorry, erm, I'm looking for someone called Nesta?" Cassian asked awkwardly.

The woman had gone from droll to actively suppressing a laugh. "Oh my god, did Emerie actually do it? Are you a male stripper?"

Cassian's eyes widened as he quickly stepped back to distance himself from the beautiful, crazy woman. "Woah, I have no idea who Emerie is. I'm flattered you think I could pass for a stripper, but I'm no magic Mike. I'm Cassian, and I'm your neighbour." Cassian said, pointing at the open door to his apartment.

'Oh," the woman said, now also looking awkward. 

"Look, I just need to know if you're Nesta and if you're alright. I ordered some food, and the delivery driver said he was worried because he hadn't heard from you in a few days," Cassian explained, not wanting to linger in awkward silence. 

The woman's face went bright red at that, so Cassian assumed that this was, in fact, the mysterious Nesta who tipped really well and ordered food every single day. "Listen, I'm assuming you're Cassian, the chef Mrs Culpepper mentioned. I can only imagine what you think of me since Toby felt chatty today. I'm gonna be honest with you, I can't cook. My friend said not to burn down the building, so I've not tried. Really, my takeaway habit is saving everyone, and as my neighbour, you should be grateful, so don't judge me,"

Cassian held his hands up in surrender. "I'm not judging. Just because I enjoy cooking doesn't mean I assume everyone will. I am, however, slightly concerned. Is that all you eat? That can't be good for your health," Cassian said, frowning as he calculated how expensive that must be and the calories. He wasn't the best with numbers, so he couldn't be sure, but he was pretty sure that was a bad time. 

"My friend said the same thing, so she batch-cooked me a few meals. I've got a deadline for work, so I've been even worse than usual, but that's why I haven't ordered any food. When it runs out, which will probably be tomorrow, I'll be back to ordering from Toby," she said with a shrug. 

"Okay, I said I'm not judging, but that sounds horrific. I can't let you carry on like that. I don't think my conscience can take it," Cassian said, looking at her wide-eyed. The way this woman was going, she'd be dead of a heart attack in no time.

"I'll be fine; you don't need to take pity on me," Nesta said defensively. 

"Listen, it's Nesta, right?" she nodded, eyeing him suspiciously now, which made him want to laugh. She hadn't been suspicious before, but now he was questioning her food intake; she was wary of him. "I get to take leftovers from my work. It's one of the perks, but there's sometimes a lot. I tend to bring them home and make myself something with whatever random stuff there is. It's way healthier than ordering out and helps me not waste food. It's a win-win situation for both of us, really." 

"So, you're basically offering to be my personal chef?" Nesta said, trying to figure out what the catch was. 

"Well, within reason. If there's anything you hate or won't eat, I'll consider it, and obviously, any allergies. And if you want something specific, I don't mind making that, too, as long as I have enough time to get the ingredients. And I don't really mind cooking; if I didn't love it, I wouldn't do it as my job." 

A silence lingered, and Cassian wondered if he had gone in too hard on the sales pitch. He wouldn't be shocked if she said no; it was a weird request from your neighbour, whom you'd only met. But there was something about this woman that made Cassian want to offer to cook for her outside of work. His friends knew he never shared his food, not when he was outside of work. He made traditional Illyrian dishes when he was at home. It was a way for him to stay connected with his culture and mother despite his distance. These recipes had been handed down through generations of his mother's family, but there was something private and intimate about them. But he would share them with his neighbour. 

"Are you even real?" Nesta said, staring at him in a bit of a daze. Then, she reached out and poked him in the cheek. "You feel real," she said as she continued poking his cheek.

"I- I think I'm real?" Cassian stuttered, really not sure how he should react. Cassian wasn't shy, but this woman was just something else. 

Clearly, his talking pulled her out of whatever daze she was in. "I'm so sorry; I've been working non-stop for my next deadline, so I'm losing my grip on reality right now," Nesta said, shaking her head to get rid of whatever weird thoughts were in her head. 

Cassian pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Add your number, and I'll text you so you have mine. Then, you can text me any allergies or anything you wouldn't eat. I'll probably just tell you some dishes I can make with the leftovers, and you can let me know what sounds good. Is that okay with you?" Cassian said.

Nesta nodded, handing his phone back with her number added. Cassian shot her a quick text and then put his phone away. "Thank you," Nesta said awkwardly. "You really don't need to do that, but I'm certainly not going to look a gift horse in the mouth," she said with a shrug and a quick smile. 

Cassian smiled back, said his goodbyes and went back to his apartment. As he shut his door, he took his neighbour in, who was watching him walk away with a contemplative look on her face. He shook his head, shutting his door. Cassian was doing a good deed for his hot neighbour, but he hoped and prayed that his friends wouldn't find out about it. 

With that, he quickly got ready for bed, practically collapsing into his bed. As he drifted off to sleep, he noticed that he was smiling and had been since he had said goodbye to his neighbour. 

***

Cassian had forgotten entirely about the events of the night before when he woke up in the morning. It was so surreal; it felt like a dream. It wasn't until he was getting ready for his morning run that he realised it was true. 

He had a strict no phones policy in the mornings, mainly because his doom-scrolling habit was an awful way to start the day. So until he was ready to leave the house, he wouldn't look at his phone. It had helped with his mental health a lot and made waking up for his job so much easier, too. 

Since he had the day off, he slept till 9, which was late for someone who left the house at 4am every day for work. When he finally looked at his phone, he froze for a second, because there was a message from his neighbour. 

Once he had processed that yesterday had, in fact, not been a dream, he quickly made a note of the things she didn't like (kale being called the devil's lettuce made him laugh way more than it should've); he had a quick glance in the fridge to see what he could make. He figured he would make a quick tuna and avocado sandwich for lunch, and then for dinner, he would make pasta. Both seemed reasonably safe first options for her meals. Then, he could also give her leftover pasta for lunch the next day. 

As he finally left and started his run, he realised this could be the perfect opportunity to work on some new recipes for the restaurant. He wanted to update the menu and add more traditional recipes, but he had been nervous to test them out on anyone. By the time he got to the point he turned back, he had a massive grin on his face. He whipped his phone out and sent Nesta a text. 

Cassian: I've just had an idea. How would you feel being my new taster for some experimental recipes?

Her reply was instant, which surprised him. 

Nesta: you're doing me a favour so if i can help then i'm good with that. Although idk if i'm the best taste tester since my own culinary skills start and end at cereal 

Cassian: All I need is your honest opinion, everyone else in my life is too biased.

Nesta: i'm not afraid of cutting a man down, so dw

Cassian laughed at her message, sending her a quick laughing emoji before he put his phone back to go back home. He was in a good mood and excited about cooking for someone new. Of course, he got to cook for new people at his job every day, but cooking for someone one-on-one was so different. He could get her reactions, and she would give him feedback. This wasn't just a faceless customer; it was his neighbour. 

When he had assembled the sandwich, he put it into a Tupperware box and then cleaned up the kitchen. Once he was done, he finally gave Nesta her sandwich, trying to ignore the excitement and nerves bubbling in his stomach as he knocked on her door. 

Nesta flung the door open with a massive smile on her face. "Well, hello there, neighbour," she said, wiggling her eyebrows at him. "What do you have for me?" Nesta said, looking at the box with excitement. 

"I've got a tuna and avocado sandwich with red onion and some homemade sriracha mayo," Cassian said, presenting her the food with a flourish.

Nesta didn't hesitate to open the box to have a look. "Oh wow, this looks so good, like one of those fancy coffee shop sandwiches which is really over-priced. Did you make the bread, too?" she asked, tapping the sourdough. 

"Oh nah, absolutely not; I'm not much of a bread maker; it's so faffy, but I love the smell of fresh bread. There's another chef in the restaurant who makes bread, but there's never any left, so this is just some supermarket bread."

"Oh, well, I thought you used leftovers," Nesta said with a frown. 

"I do, but I like to jazz them up, so I use things I have at home, too. Don't worry about it, though."

"Nah, absolutely not. I need to pay you for this if you're using your money to feed me. That's not fair on you!" she exclaimed. "I'm not a charity case."

"I don't think you are!" Cassian said, alarmed. "You're going to help me, remember. Maybe I'll develop a new menu for the restaurant."

"I still want to contribute to this because you're saving me a lot of money. Let me pay half towards your groceries at least," Nesta said sternly. 

"I- okay if you insist, but I feel bad taking your money," Cassian said awkwardly. 

"Well, that's too bad. Text me your bank details, and I'll transfer you the money, and if you don't, I'll just have to hunt you down and hurt you," she threatened. 

"You seem like a busy woman, so I'll try to avoid that happening," Cassian winced. Changing the subject, he asked, "So I never asked, but what do you do?" 

"Oh, I'm a writer!" Nesta said excitedly.

"Oh wow, that's amazing! What kind of stuff do you write? I've not had time to read in a while, but maybe I should start that up again."

Nesta's eyes widened at that. "Do not read my books. You're not the target audience, and frankly, I would probably have to avoid you if I knew you'd read them."

Cassian frowned at her, and then it dawned on him. "Oh my god, you write porn books!" he exclaimed. 

"They're romance books! Sometimes they might have some smut, but they're not porn!" she hissed. 

"Right, of course! Well, I'm gonna get going since you've probably got some sex scene left to right or something," Cassian said with a shit-eating grin. 

Nesta froze but then smirked. "Actually, I finished writing that last night after you left. You know, since you weren't the male stripper I was hoping for," she said before turning around and slamming the door in his face. He stood there gaping for a while before eventually shaking himself out of it. My god, that woman was something else. 

***

"Cassian bheta! It's been too long since you called me," his mother said as she answered the phone. He had decided to ring her while he cooked because it was the best way to cook. He couldn't help but smile at his mother calling him son in their native language. He loved his Illyrian culture; the fact his mother had taught him so much of it gave him such pride. 

"Mama, I called you 2 days ago, and I've been texting you too!" he protested with a smile as he diced onion. 

"But you're my baby, my bacha, you don't understand. One day, when you have your own children, then you'll understand," she loved saying that line. It was one of his favourites. Now, he was nearing 30 and not even close to being married. 

 He ignored her comment, knowing no good could come from delving into that subject. "Mama, I'm making Illyrian-style pasta for my neighbour right now."

"Ohh, is your neighbour Illyrian too? Rhys's mum told me that the lady who used to live across the road from her has a daughter in the city! Her name is-"

"Mama! Velaris is a big city; you know I won't run into every Illyrian here, so stop trying to match-make! My neighbour isn't Illyrian, but she said she's happy to try different things. I'm cooking for her because she can't cook for herself."

"She can't cook?" his mother said, sounding scandalised. 

"No, and let me tell you, how I met her was crazy."

He relayed the events of yesterday evening while he sauteed the onion in some ghee, diced up some bell peppers and drained the sweetcorn. After the onions started to go soft, he added the basaar, a mix of spices that Illyrians added to almost every dish.

"Well, it's a good thing you're here to look after this girl; the poor thing has been living off those takeaways; she's in desperate need of some good, home-cooked food!" his mother said the word takeaway like it was dirty. She had always been very strict about eating out when they were younger, telling him they could make it better at home. Only as he got older did he realise they probably couldn't afford to eat out for more than the occasional treat. 

"That's why I offered mama."

"That's because you're my good bacha," she said fondly. "What's this neighbour's name anyway? And what does she do?" she asked. 

Cassian smiled. Illyrian mothers could never resist fishing for gossip, even if it was people they didn't know. "Oh, her name is Nesta, and she said she's a romance writer."

His mother gasped, making him almost drop the pasta as he drained it. "Are you cooking for the famous writer, Nesta Archeron?" his mother asked, her excitement tangible. 

"I don't actually know her surname. Why?" he asked, suspicious. 

"Oh my god, Cassian!" her mother screamed, so excited that she didn't seem to mind busting her son's eardrums. "Cassian, that woman is my favourite author!"

His eyes widened at that. "Mama! I don't want to know if you read those books!" he said, taking deep breaths and trying to clear his mind of that information.

"Pfft, why? Those books are brilliant, and you're a grown man now, stop being a baby. There are no men in my life, but those fictional men are something else," his mother sounded breathless, which was just too disturbing to think about. 

"Mama! Stop, I'll be sick if you carry on, and then how can I feed your favourite author?"

His mother was outraged at that. "Listen here, you! She's writing her next book, so you better feed her well because I've been waiting for this book for a year."

"Geez, mama, I promise I will; now I have to go. I'll give it to her now while it's warm." He said, sprinkling cheese on the pasta he had put in the two Tupperware boxes for Nesta. His mother said her goodbyes because he needed to feed Nesta, not because he said he needed to go. She made it clear her loyalties lie with Nesta, which was concerning. 

He knocked on Nesta's door, and she came quickly this time. She eagerly handed him an empty box from lunch, which had been washed, and took the pasta. 

"I'm not sure if you know this, but I can smell when you're cooking things, so I've been able to smell this for a while, and I'm starving right now. This smells absolutely amazing, so if this is what Illyrian food is like, keep it coming," Nesta said, not taking her eyes off the pasta. 

"Well, this isn't Illyrian food; this is just pasta with an Illyrian twist on it, in all fairness, but I'll keep that in mind." Nesta nodded eagerly. "By the way, my mother wanted me to check. Are you the author, Nesta Archeron?"

Nesta looked up at that. "Yes, I am," she said slowly.

"Right, well, my mother is a big fan and said I need to feed you well so you can write your book because she's very excited. She's basically gonna disown me if I don't cook well for you," he laughed. 

Nesta smiled at that. "She sounds sweet. Let her know that you're doing an excellent job."

Cassian smiled back and returned to his apartment, giving her instructions about how she needed to eat the 2nd box for lunch tomorrow because he would be at work. Nesta thanked him profusely, licking her lips as she eyed the pasta. 

Cassian got out of there quickly after that because seeing Nesta lick her lips did something weird that he didn't want to think about. He had only met the woman yesterday, so whatever he felt, he would ignore it. 

He got a text as he dug into his own pasta while watching a modern family rerun on TV. 

Nesta: this might be the best pasta i've ever had omg you're a god!!!

Nesta: i would eat this for the rest of my life if i could

Cassian: It's not too spicy for you?

Nesta: nah, this is fine, the tomatoes calm it down. Idk if i'm strong enough to handle more than this tho, my tastebuds are probs dead with everything i eat 

Cassian: Lolll, noted

Cassian cleared his dishes and got into bed since he'd have an early night the next day. Before putting his phone away, he quickly googled his neighbour, and lo and behold, a list of her books came up. She was popular, and he had to admit, he was impressed. Her fans were practically rabid for her next book. It looked like a series, so he ordered the first book before he could think about it too deeply. 

Please let me know if you'd like to be added/ removed from my tags list:

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#nessian #cassian x nesta #nesta archeron #acotar #nesta x cassian

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Hey! Just wanted to say love your Sihtric fics. They literally give me life. As a new Last Kingdom fan (just started watching the show, on season 2 now). I was hoping you could write a one shot of Sihtric x Fem reader. Where the fem is like a healer very similar to Iseult in season 1. But this time reader is patching up our boy Sihtric. The reader is extremally worried for Sihtric. Hope this ask is okay. Thank you again!

The Witch

Part 1

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: Dear Anon, I'm so sorry it took me so long to write this. I loved the request, but unfortunately there were so many things in between. And lately I really struggle with writing, so I can tell you I have rewritten it at least five times and if I don't post it now, I will probably start all over again tomorrow. Sorry, I didn't manage to put all in a one shot, so this is Part 1.

Warnings: a bit of fluff and as per usual angst, but in delicate doses

Word Count: 3,4K

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie

If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.

Sihtric's gaze repeatedly drifted toward the upper end of the grand hall, where Sigefrid and his brother Erik were seated. He tried to force himself to look away, just to find himself staring again as if pulled by an irresistible force. It was not the commanding presence of the two brothers that captivated him. No, it was you. 

The first time Sihtric had seen you was on the very first day of his arrival in Beamfleot. Deliberately, he guided his horse into a slow walk as he passed through the city gates, determined not to appear hasty or restless. He was supposed to look just like one among the numerous Danish warriors lured in by the boastful promises of wealth and vast lands, spread by Erik and Sigefrid. 

He paused at the stables, casually tossing the reins to a stable boy, and began to unfasten his saddlebag, taking in his surroundings with vigilant eyes, all the while sensing an unfamiliar presence, as if someone's gaze bore into him.

Sihtric turned around, finding no one behind him. His gaze shifted upward, scanning the city's encircling walls, counting the watchtowers and the spears positioned within them. It was precisely at that moment when he caught sight of you. You stood upon the ramparts, your attention firmly fixed on him, making no effort to conceal it. 

The sun danced through your unbraided hair, fluttering in the wind and what was meant to be a fleeting glance began to feel like an eternity for Sihtric, as he found himself unable to tear his eyes away. He was ensnared by the boundless depths of your dark, scrutinising eyes, as if they possessed the ability to peer into the recesses of his soul, reading his very thoughts. 

"Hey, you, lunkhead," a mocking voice snapped Sihtric's attention back to the present. "Barely arrived, and already fallen under the witch's spell?" 

A small group of warriors approached him, and Sihtric felt a slight flush of embarrassment as he chuckled nervously.

"What's it to you?" he retorted, raising an eyebrow.

"You know, the woman up there on the ramparts. The seer and Sigefrid's personal healer," one of the warriors grinned knowingly.

Sihtric shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I was just taking in the view. No harm in that, right?"

The warrior smirked. "Oh, there's harm, my friend. They say she can see right through a man's soul. Best be cautious with those lingering looks."

"I'll keep that in mind," Sihtric chuckled, feigning nonchalance, but as the group of warriors continued to jest and banter, he couldn't resist stealing one last glance in your direction, only to find the ramparts empty, with a few mocking ravens cawing at him. 

Sihtric didn’t expect to see you soon again, but there you sat, positioned to Sigefrid's right. Your slender fingers, adorned with golden rings, idly played with the ale mug before you, while your large and expressive eyes swept across the scene of feasting, drunken, and brawling warriors in the hall. In another corner of the hall, a more serious argument appeared to be escalating. Your voice cut through the commotion, addressing one of the warriors by name, and your firm and assertive gaze landed on the group. Instantly, their voices lowered, and the quarrel that had been unfolding came to a halt. It was as if you held a power over the gathering, a power that made Sihtric’s heart race and his palms grow sweaty. 

Each time your eyes wandered in his direction, Sihtric felt a shiver run down his spine and he hurriedly turned away, clutching his mug and engaging in forced conversation with a nearby companion, all in an effort to avoid accidentally locking eyes with your watchful and discerning gaze, just to find himself stealing secret glances a moment later.

No matter how hard Sihtric tried to clear his mind, your presence lingered like an indelible mark. Even as he finally sank into the bed assigned to him within one of the large barracks nestled along the city walls and closed his eyes, he found no escape from your haunting image in his dreams. It was a frenzied vision of a wild sprint through a dense forest.

"Come on, catch me if you can," your voice, soft and melodic, teased him, urging him in the direction of its origin. There you stood, leaning against a tree, a playful smile gracing your lips as you extended an inviting hand. He ran towards you, his breath heavy, not so much from the wild chase as from the electric anticipation coursing through his veins. Sihtric loomed over your fragile and gentle frame, trapping you between his body and the tree. Your lips half parted, so red, full and inciting lured him in with a soft moan, your fingers trailing up and down his chest. His hand tenderly caressed your cheek as he leaned closer, his heart pounding in his ears and his eyes widening in surprise as you dissolved into thin air just a moment before his lips could meet yours.

"Catch me, I'm here, I'm waiting," echoed again from a different direction, and the wild chase began anew.

Upon waking in the morning, Sihtric discovered himself drenched in sweat, his breath laboured, and his heart pounding, as though he had just completed an actual race. He cursed silently at his own foolishness, swearing never to venture near the grand hall in the evening to evade encountering you again. 

And during the day he even managed to focus on his direct tasks, he inspected the barracks, visited the camps outside the city gates and casually walked nearby the docs to get an overview of the ships and the crews on them, however, each time as the evening descended, there he sat, nestled in his preferred corner at the far end of the hall, his back against the wall, surreptitiously stealing glances at the beautiful witch, drawn to your every movement and word. 

Sihtric seethed with frustration at his own weakness, resenting the magnetic pull you had over him. At times, he couldn't help but wonder if you had really somehow bewitched him, making his attraction to you feel all the more maddening and cursed himself for not being able to get over this hopeless infatuation.

—----------------------------------------------

You had long been aware of the handsome, young, and bashful warrior whose gaze seemed perpetually drawn to you. It didn't escape your notice how his cheeks would flush with a rosy hue every time your eyes met his, and how he attempted to steal glances at you, convinced he was being discreet.

Your heart couldn't help but warm to the endearing way he watched you, the earnestness in his big, expressive eyes mirroring a genuine curiosity and fascination. It was as though he were a moth to your flame, his shyness only adding to his charm. You were used to men looking at you with desire, but the sweet, innocent adoration that radiated from the young warrior made your heart fill with an unexpected sympathy.

You found yourself secretly delighted by his persistent glances, amused by his attempts to hide his interest. There was something about this young and undeniably handsome Dane that piqued your curiosity in return.

While the whispers and rumours surrounding you had labelled you as a witch, you knew well that your abilities were far from magical; they were rooted in your sharp wit, ability to observe and listen and your keen reasoning and you couldn't help but take notice that the young warrior always seemed to keep to himself. Unlike the boisterous and rowdy men in the hall, he never engaged in quarrels or brawls, and you had never once seen him completely drunk. 

You were intelligent enough to put things together and after inquiring discreetly and listening carefully to the tales and whispers circulating among the warriors and local folks, you were certain that the enigmatic young man was a spy. The question remained who had sent him. The idea that Alfred, the Saxon king, would employ a Dane for such a task seemed improbable.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, it struck you – Uhtred, the infamous Dane killer. This must be it. You had heard countless stories about him, a Saxon and a Dane, steadfast in his devotion to the old gods despite the repulsion it elicited from his King, renowned as a formidable warrior and a nobleman whose lands harboured both Danes and Saxons, living together in peace.

Your curiosity knew no bounds as you contemplated the implications of this discovery.

You had vehemently opposed this ill-conceived plan and had attempted to dissuade Erik and Sigefrid from their reckless pursuit. Impulsive and driven by their unquenchable thirst for conquest, they often lacked the foresight to plan for the long term. They were warriors, not settlers. Meanwhile, you found yourself tired —tired by the ceaseless cycle of men waging war and longing for someone with the courage to forge peace.

The weariness ran deep, as you were exhausted of mending wounds that you knew would barely have a chance to heal before the next battle, the next the final blow, erased the lives of the very fools you were striving to save. You had grown weary of gazing into the hollow, despairing eyes of the widows and children who had followed their men in pursuit of the elusive promises of wealth and fertile land. You were a healer, and you longed for an end to the relentless cycle of violence.

Even as both Danes and the Saxon town folks referred to you as a witch, with the former showing respect and the latter reacting with fear, crossing themselves and spitting in your direction, you knew who you were and had no need for anyone else's approval.

For you, healing was not just a trade—it was your heritage, your calling, a legacy coursing through your veins. You had absorbed the knowledge from your mother, who had received it from her own mother, continuing a long line of wise and strong women passing down their carefully gathered wisdom from one generation to the next. It was a blessing and a burden you carried with equal measures of pride and devotion. And as a healer, you held within your heart a sacred dream of peace and prosperity for your people. In a world already burdened with pain and suffering, there was no room for the needless and futile wars incited by foolish, power-hungry men.

Just a few days prior, you had experienced a heartwarming surprise when a young Saxon girl had come to you under the cover of night, secretly seeking your aid for her little son. She had knocked on your door, her trepidation clear, fearing the judgement of others but driven by her desperation for help. You had not hesitated to assist her.

Today, while crossing the bustling marketplace, your paths had crossed again. Your gazes had locked for a brief moment, and in that instant, you knew that the boy was well. Your heart swelled with warmth as you witnessed the unmistakable joy shining in the young mother's eyes. It was moments like these that constituted the greatest reward, the very purpose of your existence—to apply your knowledge where it was needed most, to offer help to those in dire circumstances.

—-----------------------------------------

"Damn," Sihtric muttered under his breath as he withdrew his knife from the lifeless body, observing as it slowly slumped to the ground.

Wincing at the unusual ache that prodded at his consciousness, Sihtric instinctively reached for his right side, as though attempting to locate the source of the unpleasant, slightly burning sensation that was steadily intensifying. Something sticky and warm trickled through his fingers, prompting Sihtric to extend his hand for a closer look, his vision blurring as the burning sensation in his side abruptly erupted into a sharp, overwhelming pain.

Blood. So much blood. It dripped from his fingers and streamed down his arm. With a forceful grunt, he pressed his hand against the area where the pain was most intense, as if attempting to quell it, and leaned heavily against the wall.

He had carefully avoided all the quarrels and brawls in the city, but this time there hadn't been any other option; the robust, black-haired warrior with a scar marrying his left cheek had recognized him and attacked in rage without a single word of warning. 

Gasping for breath, Sihtric tightened his grip around the hilt of his knife as the world around him began to blur slowly.

"No, no, no... come on... get a hold of yourself," Sihtric muttered under his breath, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his vision.

With a resounding groan, he straightened and forced himself to move forward. Each step sent waves of pain through his body, nearly causing him to double over. Gritting his teeth, he continued to stumble through the deserted, narrow streets of Beamfleot, using the wooden walls of houses to support himself.

Where to? He was alone here, without a clan, without friends or a leader. There was no one who would be willing to help him. It wasn't a conscious decision, but rather a pure instinct that guided him toward a small house standing apart from the others, nestled under an ancient oak tree with its imposing wooden arms stretched protectively overhead. Some distant memory in his pain-addled mind had led him to choose this small house as his last refuge.

Shivering, cold sweat covering his forehead, Sihtric pressed on, forcing his trembling limbs to take another step and then another until there was no wall left to lean on.

"Come on, just one more step... You can do it, you're almost there," a loud groan escaped Sihtric's lips as his knees and hands collided with the unforgivingly hard ground. He lay there for a moment, still, listening to his laboured breaths and feeling his heart racing in his chest. He was too close to give up now. He wriggled back to his feet, took a few steps, slipped and fell again, his hands and knees bruised and aching. The small house loomed just before him, just a few strides away. Stretching out his arm, he dug his fingers into the muddy earth, his nails breaking against some hidden stones in the trampled ground as he forced himself back on his feet again.

Sihtric had always imagined that death would come swiftly, like a clean cut from a sharp blade. But now, it felt more like falling asleep after a long, exhausting day, with everything around him dissolving into a soft mist.  He had fallen again and his strength was slowly waning, as with one last effort, he propped himself up on his elbows and crawled the final few steps to reach the door.

—--------------------------------------------------

It was late, nearly midnight by the moon's position in the sky, and the fire in the hearth was on the verge of dying out. You added more wood to the fire and watched as the flames danced and licked at the fresh fuel, gradually regaining their strenght. Sleep was a luxury you couldn't afford at the moment. The ointment for treating wounds was running dangerously low, and it was just the right time to prepare the fever-reducing potion, it was a new moon - the perfect timing to achieve its best effect.

Your eyes roamed around the spacious room, taking in the herbs hanging on lines along the walls, then returned to the mugs, flasks, and pounders scattered across the table before you. This place had once belonged to a local healer who had fled as the Danes drew near. Being Sigefrid's personal seer had its advantages, as no one had dared to challenge your declaration of this house as your own. 

A peculiar sound at the door jolted you from your thoughts, instantly commanding your attention. It wasn't a customary knock, but rather a feeble scratching. Instinctively, your hand sought the dagger hanging from your waist. With a gentle but purposeful motion, you retrieved the small yet potent weapon, a faithful companion that had saved your life on more than one occasion. Cautiously, you approached the door and swung it open.

"What in the world..." you exclaimed, taken aback as your gaze fell upon the grimy, hunched figure of a young man—a Dane. He gasped for breath, his body trembling violently, his right hand pressed to his side, and blood seeping through his fingers. His face contorted with pain, his large, expressive eyes silently begging for help.

By the way his eyes periodically rolled back, it was evident that he was on the brink of losing consciousness.

"Hey, look at me." Kneeling down beside the young warrior, you firmly gripped his chin, locking your gaze with his. And then, in a sudden rush of recognition, you realised who he was—your sweet and bashful admirer, the young warrior, the very spy sent by Uhtred.

"You're going to be alright. You're in the right place. I will help you. Do you hear me? You are safe here," you assured him as he struggled to catch his breath. The Dane nodded, sucking for breath in short, shallow intervals.

"I need you to stay awake. Can you do it for me?" The young man's eyes began to roll back again. "No, no, no, stay with me, look at me," you hissed in frustration and pressed your finger onto the wound in his side. The Dane cried out, but his gaze cleared.

"What's your name?" you asked, not because you needed his name, but because you needed his focus.

"Sihtric," came a barely audible whisper from his lips.

"I'm sorry, Sihtric, but I need you to stay awake and make one last effort. I need you to summon all your strength and help me get you on your feet. Come on, I know you can do it. You are strong," you said, placing his left arm around your neck and wrapping yours around his waist. As you pulled, you didn't expect his lean body to be so heavy, but to your relief, he still had enough strength to follow your lead. With a loud groan, he managed to rise to his feet. 

"Good, you're doing very well. The hardest part is behind us now. Just a few more steps to that table over there. Can you see it? You can lean on me. I won't let you down, I promise. But you have to find the strength to move your legs. I can't carry you," you reassured him, tightening your grip on his waist as you both took a step towards the table. You could feel his body trembling from the effort, leaning heavily on you, his breaths growing even more uneven and sharp. However, he managed to stumble in the right direction.

"Good, just one more step, and we're there," you kept talking, trying to maintain his focus. And then, you reached the table, allowing him to slump down. You supported his head as it slowly descended onto the hard surface and quickly lifted his legs, placing them on the table.

"This is going to be a long night," you murmured to yourself, your hands already in motion as you hastily gathered your supplies and placed the kettle filled with water over the flames of the hearth.

Your experienced fingers deftly unfastened the belt, untied the laces, and carefully removed the armbands. Eventually, everything was loose enough to pull the thick and heavy armour from the young Dane's body. Cutting away the blood-soaked linen shirt that clung tightly to the wound, you gasped in astonishment as your gaze traced the well-built, muscular frame of the injured warrior, wincing in pain on your table.

His body was marked with scars. You recognized each one, having treated them countless times before, but it was rare to see so many of them in one place. There were the short, deep scars left by knives, the long, straight ones undoubtedly from a whip, some uneven burns, healed sword cuts, and a few from axes, identifiable by the deeper cuts in the centre that gradually faded at both ends. Each scar had a different colour, with some older ones slowly fading away and others more recent.

He was so young; you would wager he hadn't seen more than nineteen or maybe twenty summers. Yet, his body was like an open book to your skilled eyes, recounting a long tale of torment and pain. Too long for his young age.

"Drink this," you gently lifted his head and brought a small mug to his lips. "It will dull the pain."

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #tlk #arnas fedaravicius #arnas fedaravičius #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #tlk fic #the last kingdom fic

[floralcyanide]

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐀 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 • 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫

Part One

Roman Bridger x AFAB!Reader

The day Roman first laid eyes on you, he knew he had to have you. There was something about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, and usually, he was good at reading people off the bat. But you were a different story. Naturally, you only opened up when necessary, not letting people in if you didn’t have a reason to. So you were guarded, and Roman didn’t like that. He wanted to worm his way into your life, no matter what it took. 

If that took delving into his twisted past again in order to get to you, so be it. AFAB - (assigned female at birth) someone who is born female but can identify with she/her or other pronouns. reader pronouns are gender neutral, so people who use any pronouns can read, but female anatomy will be used and described in this fanfiction eventually.

request: Please could you write a Roman x reader where she is only supposed to be an extra in his movie, but he becomes obsessed with her and starts doing whatever it takes to make her part of the main cast so he can get much closer to her. by anon.

Can you do Roman with s/o that's an actor/actress? If you don't I'll cry myself to sleep :) by @hell0r0ck

warnings: none for this part!

word count: 1300

author's note: sorry it's kinda short, but I felt it was a great place to naturally stop. I do want this to be a few parts long, so we shall see how long it gets lol! thank you to those who sent in requests (: I'm happy to be writing for the Scream fandom again <3 if you enjoy this and want me to continue, please reblog/ like/ comment!

series masterlist | masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

You’re about to do a simple audition process in order to be an extra in the new Stab movie. There’s not much to it- just getting into hair, makeup, and costume and then blending into the background when ordered to do so. You’re pretty good at becoming invisible already, but you’re still nervous. The movie's director is attractive, in your humble opinion, and he’s the one who conducts the auditions. So you’re most anxious about doing something embarrassing in front of him. In your self-absorbed imagination, you hope, for whatever reason, the director notices you out of everyone here. But the chances of that happening are astronomically low.

You’re in an area full of other random people auditioning to be extras, possibly around fifty people altogether, solidifying why you won’t be so much as blinked at. You managed to snag a seat earlier when you arrived before people began pouring into the studio. You’re squirming in the chair anxiously, switching which leg to cross over the other often, and playing with your hair without noticing. 

“Are you okay?” someone from next to you whispers.

You glance over to your right and see a small girl around your age studying you with concern. 

You nod, “I’m fine. Just kinda nervous.”

“I can tell,” the girl smiles gently, offering a hand, “I’m Sage.” 

“Nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N).”

“Is this your first time auditioning?” Sage asks, her eyes curious of your answer.

“Nope,” you shake your head, “I’ve been in plenty of shows and movies.”

“Then why are you so worried? You’ve got this!” the chipper blonde grins.

You hesitantly chuckle and lean in closer to her to whisper, “I think the director is cute.”

“Roman? He’s alright. Not my type, but he’s really nice! I’ve worked with him before.”

“Really?” you raise your eyebrows, intrigued to learn more about Roman now that you know his name.

“Yeah, he directed some shitty horror movie about a year ago, and I was one of the random bystanders that got killed. He always made sure all the extras were the best they could be. I doubt half of these people here will make it because he’s really picky,” Sage rambles.

“Good to know,” you say, now even more nervous than before.

The room suddenly hushes, and everyone looks in one direction at whoever caused the silence.

“Welcome to Stab 3, everyone! I’m Roman, and I’m the director. Let’s get started.”

Everyone is ordered to a set where we all stand aimlessly and talk to each other or walk around. According to Roman, anyone breaking their character or not looking convincing enough will get booted. Upon his signal to begin, we all take random places around the set and pretend to be nobody. Piece of cake. There are placeholders for the actual main actors reciting lines for the scene we’re practicing to make it more natural. You avoid your eyes from anyone specific other than Sage, pretending to be deep in conversation with her. Roman walks around the set like a ghost, dismissing people here and there. He has a hand on his chin, rubbing it inquisitively as he studies everyone he passes. A group of girls giggles at Roman when he walks by them, to which he then dismisses them off the set. You avert your eyes back to Sage quickly before he notices. In your vision field, you can see him walking in your direction.

Sage notices your staring and looks at you knowingly before learning her throat, “So have you heard?” 

“Heard what?” you say, trying to remain in character the best you can as Roman inches ever closer.

“There’s a masked killer on the loose,” Sage looks around nervously, quieting her voice.

“Seriously?” you furrow your eyebrows, half wondering if she was actually serious or if she was just playing her part, “Do they know who it is?”

Sage shrugs as Roman stands by the two of you, watching with a slight gleam in his eye, “No one does. We just have to make sure to stay safe. So if you go anywhere, don’t go alone.”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead anywhere alone,” you chuckle, rolling your eyes playfully, “No pun intended.”

Roman stifles a laugh, “Good job, you two. I’ll see you on the real set soon,” he winks.

You look at Sage with wide eyes as he walks away, and she pats your shoulder with a smile, “I told you that you had this in the bag! Besides, I know Roman enough to know that he thinks you’re cute.”

You try not to snort, “And how do you know that?”

“He’s still staring at you.”

Trying your best to look casual, you scratch your neck and turn around slowly, darting your eyes around to avoid direct contact with Roman. Your eyes land beside his face, where you can see him sneaking a peek at you before turning away.

“Told you,” Sage snickers, “Now come on, let’s blow this popsicle stand now that we have the parts.”

The two of you head over to the area where other extras which have been accepted are sitting. There are about 20 of you, while a measly 10 remain on the set. After 15 minutes, 5 more dwindle over to where you and Sage sit and converse.

“Alright, my extras,” Roman smiles as he approaches the group of you, “I’ll see you bright and early on the actual set tomorrow at seven sharp. Don’t be late.”

Everyone cheers and talks amongst themselves as you and Sage stand up from your seats, brushing yourselves off before making your way to the exit.

“You two,” Roman stops you both right at the stage door, “I’ll be keeping an eye on you. You guys seem too good to be extras.”

“Roman, you know good and well your team wouldn’t allow some random extras to be in the main cast. So keep dreaming, pretty boy,” Sage rolls her eyes with a laugh, “We’ve been down this road before. I’m not into major acting.”

“What about them?” Roman points to you, and you nervously cave in on yourself momentarily under his direct gaze.

“Uh,” you stutter, looking between Roman and Sage, “I don’t know. I guess I’ll see how it goes tomorrow first,” you shrug.

“Alright,” Roman grins, “See you tomorrow.”

You nod, suppressing a smile. Once Roman is out of earshot, Sage squeals quietly.

“You two so like each other,” she giggles, pushing the door open.

“Remind me to block your number when I get home,” you say jokingly.

The following morning, you try your best to refrain from rubbing your tired eyes after having makeup applied to them. You’re standing at the coffee cart on set, clutching a cup of hot liquid as your eyes gloss over. Someone walks into your peripheral, waving their hand in front of your face.

“Are you there, sweetheart?”

Snapping out of it, you squeeze your eyes shut quickly before blinking rapidly to clear your vision. Roman is standing in front of you in a flattering button-up, a small smile on his lips.

“Sorry, just a little sleepy this morning,” you laugh nervously, pulling the cup of coffee closer to your chest before taking a cautious sip.

“That’s alright. It’s a slow day today, not much to film with many extras, so if you want, you can chill out on the sidelines,” Roman suggests, and you shake your head.

“Nope, I’m here to work. I’ll wake up here soon,” you take a large gulp of the hot, caffeinated beverage.

“A good attitude to have!” Roman grins, patting your shoulder, “See you on set later, then!”

Little did you know, you’d see Roman more than just on set. And he’d be seeing you everywhere you went. Everywhere all the time.

#Roman Bridger #roman bridger x reader #roman bridger x reader smut #Roman Bridger smut #Ghostface #scream #scream 3 #Ghostface!roman #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #ghostface x reader smut #floralcyanide writes

[frecklystars]

im gonna start making doodles trying to reclaim my TF F/Os that i've lost, maybe once a week or once every two weeks... or once a month?? i dont know, i will try to keep some consistency but i really need to start slow on this. here's to hoping that drawing them every once in a while will make even just the smallest difference.

im so sick of associating these characters with my abuser and i'm so sick of the immediate fight or flight response that i get when just looking at pictures of TF characters or even the voice actors. i have tried just about everything... therapy, medication, exercise, watching a few clips from the shows, buying cameos, commissioning art/fics, talking to voice actors in person at conventions... nothing has helped me get better at all. i tried giving up on TF entirely, throwing out/giving away all of my TF merch, refusing to touch the franchise, but that has only made me more and more miserable as time has passed. it has been over a year since [insert the most horrific experiences ever here] happened to me and since i associated that with a long list of things, TF included. and im! sick! of feeling bad! so! if im gonna be miserable no matter what, then i might as well try to get better, right?? drawing my F/Os loving me has never failed me before, so here's to hoping it isn't gonna fail me now. i am quite the stubborn bitch and i refuse to allow my main coping mechanism i've used for 2 decades to remain tainted forever and ever 😤😤

these will be the shakiest, shittiest doodles imaginable, but i think drawing the robots i miss so much at least once a month can help me rewire my brain into believing they're safe again and they love me and i'm not in danger. i think the best thing that will help me is drawing my Ryan F/Os interacting with them as "proof" that they're safe to be around, that they've "approved of" them, will help me slowly reclaim them. fake it til you make it as they say. let's try this for maybe just a couple of months as a slow start and see how it goes :/

any TF doodles will be tagged as "reclaiming robots tag" and nothing else - free to blacklist it if you dont wanna see. i'll most likely be rarely posting these but jic //shrug

anyway. yay. attempts number one and two. i like to think barbie and ken stop by the starflower meadow every now and then because stsc summons them across the multiverse, asking them how i'm doing, if i'm safe, if i miss him at all. wow i am shaking so bad. ha ha haaa. these took about ten?? minutes?? so woohoo to ten minutes of drawing TF. im proud of myself for trying. even if i dont go through with this and end up not being able to draw TF ever again, at least i managed this one single post. if i keep this up, maybe a year from now, or two years or five years or whatever, i'll be able to handle it. i don't even expect to hyperfixate on TF ever again because my self shipping will never ever be the same w/ them -- i'll never interact with the fandom again, i'll never reblog fanart or gifsets or anything like that ever again, if i even somehow managed to feel good enough to actually throw myself back into the shows -- but i want to think i'll feel indifferent to it one day. to not have that fight or flight response. that is my goal. literally the bare fucking minimum <3

anyway. i'm super nauseous. this is so incredibly hard! holy shit!!! but that's why i have to do this. to quote pedro pascal, i am going to have a panic attack and i am going to leave 👍✨

(BTW I am still gonna stay offline for a few more days. I am back from vacation but I am SO burnt out I don't want to interact with dms/my inbox yet. I just wanted to post this just to get it out of my system and let it disappear into the void. But I will be back later this week bc I still have some commissions to finish and I wanna gush about my very exciting time meeting steve/tom/the brba cast. anyway... goodnight. i love you. smooch)

#reclaiming robots tag

[plasticfangtastic]

American Royalty. Ch. 3

A Homelander X F! Reader and Dadlander fic.

A/N: Cuz somebody asked 'bout taglist... I'll be including one for those interested, if you want to be in it please leave a comment on the fic and i will include you in the next update as I be working on 'Of the same poisonous ilk' this week thus meaning next ch. of A.R. will come out next week. Plz check My Pin Post for previous chapters!! thxs for reading

Tags: mild gore, angst, slow burn, fluff, oc characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance.

Chapter Three

White.

He followed you for two weeks, in that time he had made up his mind about putting those doubts at rest– he knew Helena wasn’t his. She looked nothing like him. You had to have been lying about the V, some clever ruse that you came up with on the spot, but that doubt now cemented itself, digging and clawing deeper in his brain… that perhaps he had been  mistaken.

So he followed you, making notes about your predictably sad routine– you worked six days a week. The hours varied but you were always working (except for saturdays and most sundays you only did half days), you worked at Lucci’s four days, and as a cook and waitress at a local diner five days for really short shifts at a time either mornings or nights, it was frankly a nightmare to follow. Your skills almost wasted as you broke your back making corned beef sandwiches and serving tables. You usually seemed to make it home by 9 pm, and Kaleem (your boss) and his wife took care of your kid, you seemed close to the family of four that or they liked that your daughter tutored their kids for free, even their 17 year old relied on her, your neighbor also babysat in exchange for dog food and groceries, and money on the occasion.

Your daughter attended a local public school, already attending tenth grade at her tender age. Usually making her own way home or heading straight to your boss’s house, it was bizarre and frightening to see such a small child walk alone in dangerous Brooklyn streets but she didn’t seem afraid in the least, Homelander wouldn’t dare Ryan do that in Manhattan, he could see the tabloids headlines and a dozen dangers.

She entered a small park, resting by a bench for an awfully long time just not doing much until she looked up and stared back at the sky, she waved her tiny hand at Homelander, aware of what building he had been watching her from.

Helena scooted over giving him an open invitation, something he nervously accepted.

That day after seeing you for the first time, he had done his homework ordering a crew of interns to canvas all files for information partaning every child that was given compound V around the time of Helena’s birth, to check any discrepancies in old inventory records, and cctv footage that remained of those days to see if they’ve been altered, he worked them past clock off hours, and after a week they’d come empty handed, no child was given V that matched her description, he had found the hospital you’ve given birth and found no record of Vought’s grimy fingers, nor of any rogue scientist feeding kids V that was operating or suspected to operate around that time, His team also found that you never entered Helena on any casting calls, pageants or events. She had no superhero name registration or trademark, Vought manager or caseworker, or appeared on Vought’s records in any capacity, he clung to hope that maybe the information would come to light but the twenty people on the case were having no luck.

He entered the lab where a young recruit who had the least to lose handed him the results. He dared not read them outloud and instead took a step back as Homelander slumped against the wall.

So here he was staring at this little girl.

“You’ve been following my mother. I don’t really understand nor care much, but following me is a tad creepy, sir.”

“Could you hear me from over there?” He asked surprised, trying to look imposing with his stiff shoulders.

“I sensed you… I keep my radar on when heading home, that way I can keep an eye for treats– in the absence of super senses.”

“What sort of treats?” he said with ignorant concern.

“You don’t come down to the projects very often, do you?” She found his stiff posture interesting, wondering how much of it was habit versus the suit– so how may I help you?”

“I had some business with your mother.”

“Then how does it pertain to me?” she scoffed.

“Your mother never registered you with Vought. All super-abled children whether they choose to pursue this career or not– have to be registered at some point. I couldn’t find any records of a Helena L/N or your Superhero persona”

She chuckled lightly.

“Sure. That’s something the boss handles instead of some mid-level intern… So you think my mother stole some compound V while she was under your employment? I guess after a bunch of Supervillains began to come out of thin air– it is concerning that there’s unregistered Supe’s wandering around.” She stands up– If my mother had stolen compound V for profit do you think we would be living in this place?” She leaned back trying to control that shit eating grin teasing her lips.

“A cover story.”

“I think I was right about you.” She fixes her backpack, jumping off the bench, he follows her as she begins to walk away– "I always liked A-Train more than you. Out of the whole lot you look the most maladjusted, sir.”

“You have quite the mouth there, little missy.” His irritation was more than visible, he scrunched his hand, and the girl could only raise a corner of her thin lips in disbelief– "Your mother failed to teach you manners didn’t she?”

“I have manners. I reserve them for people who aren’t peeping toms, you clown.”

Homelander eyes glittered red, trying to control his anger, he looked away, squeezing his eyes– she was just a little girl with a mouth afterall, she could afford to be a brat.

As she walked away before he could take a step to pull her– Helena had disappeared. Everything about her was gone, he looked around finding nothing, the air hadn’t been pushed so she hadn’t run at hyper speed, he looked up to see if she had taken flight finding nothing, not even a shadow out of place– she had simply vanished.

He was left perplexed, his senses unable to pick up on anything nearby.

He was back at the tower, looking at the pile of documents they had gathered of you, your finances were a wreck, he hadn’t even remembered asking for any of these things done to you. His chest heavy as he noted just how thorough Vought had been, but that meant nothing, he had money to spare. Helena had a bad mouth but what child wouldn’t be hardened by living in the slums? What child wouldn’t come out damaged if they lived so poorly and without a father? By a mother that had done nothing but neglect them. 

He could fix it.

“What are you doing?” Ryan asked, entering his father’s studio as he read– I saw this movie was out and I thought…”

“Just work, tiger.” He pushed his work down– we can go see a movie… let me see if Ashley can reserve the cinema for us.”

That wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it was something.

Homelander could barely contain his excitement, he was certain Ryan would be happy when he could deliver the news.

Now he was at your workplace once again, just an hour before opening. It was only you, another cook and your boss doing all the prep-work, he was out in the back as you stood out to drop some rubbish, your apron covered in flour and you reeked of san marzano tomatoes and shampoo.

“We need to talk.” He said firmly.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You said weakly, feeling bile burning at the bottom of your throat– I… I have to go.”

“Helena is my daughter so we need to talk.”

You froze, your eyes so wide they could pop out of their sockets if you opened them any further, you looked at the door and closed it wishing nobody else heard him, not even the rats and roaches.

“There’s nothing to discuss. I told you… I told you back then she was yours! And you ruined my life for it!” 

“Don’t be so dramatic, I just dumped you.” he waved his arms to match his scoff– now–

“You… You… You don’t remember what you did? God I really didn’t matter to you…” You couldn’t hold back the flow of tears– You took everything from me!!”

The gap between you two was broken by your own feet, your knees shook but hatred kept you standing.

“You had me blacklisted from every fucking restaurant in the country! Most of my savings were frozen by the fucking FBI over some bullcrap investigation, and I still can’t even touch my own fucking money!! My insurance was canceled somehow! and then your fucking company bought my apartment building and evicted me!!” You growled and shouted, your spat on his face as you pushed him to no avail– I was pregnant living in my fucking car with a few thousand dollars in the most expensive city in the world!!”

Homelander had nothing to say, feeling the spit drip down his cheek.

“I… I lost everything. And just to hurt me you made Helena a Supe… did it make you happy? Did it make you happy when I had to sleep in a shelter with a newborn and 30 thousand dollars in debt!?” You took a step back trying to clean the tears clinging to your eyes– You don’t get to talk about my daughter.”

“The one you barely see.”

“WHOSE FUCKING FAULT IS THAT!!?” you pulled on his suit forcing him to see you straight in the eyes– We got nothing to talk about. Helena is mine, you abandoned her! you don’t get to waltz into her life as if you deserve it after all you did! She doesn’t need you! Not when all the pain you cause wasn’t worth it”

“I didn’t know I could have children.”

Becca had looked at him with fear and disgust more than anger, but your words reminded him of her, he had made a mistake then, now Ryan had to live with the weight of killing his mother. Had he played his cards less impulsively, she would have relented. 

“I was told I was infertile. That I had nothing down there, not even wonky swimmers! Why would I believe you…?” He bit his lip grabbing your hands as he had gently done so in the past– my whole life I was told I could never have a family, the one thing they failed to do when they made me… until I discovered Ryan… back then… back then I–

“Don’t touch me.” You pulled your hands but his grip is solid– I don’t want to listen to you.”

“I am sorry!”

His eyes were hurt, he softened his grip as you took your bruised hands back.

You wanted that apology but this wasn’t it. It didn't matter at the end, you wanted him gone but you would regret this later, as you saw those hurt blue eyes, all you saw was his daughter, it was as if she had a copy of his expression tattooed on her dna.

“... Come to my house by midnight tonight…”

You left him there.

Thinking of Helena’s tear filled blues.

You were becoming insane, the whole day at work you stayed silent, quietly building pies and cutting pizza, just another busy day. Calling the diner telling them Helena’s sitter had called in sick, and nobody could watch you kid.

Helena seemed happy to have the extra time with you even if all she did was do her homework and listen to some free college classes that she had somehow managed to enroll in (probably thanks to her teachers) while you watched TV. You looked at the recording discussing thermodynamics which she seemed to be struggling with. By ten she was in bed and you waited, finding yourself baking a Torta della Nonna while waiting for a man you weren’t sure would show up, taking a short nap until something tapped at your foot.

“Helena…?” you said groggily.

“No.”

Looking at him in your home woke you up harder than an earthquake, you jumped on your feet quickly to make distance.

“You could knock on the door! Did… Did you come through the window?”

“Didn’t want to wake up Helena.” 

“Please don’t pretend you suddenly care about her. Look… I will listen to you… I need to know why you made her a Supe.” your words are low but fast.

You took to the kitchen, taking a small pot, honey and saffron.

“I want to know what you want so YOU can move on, and leave us alone.”

He stood by the entrance arms tucked behind his back with a look of indignation, as you took the milk out of the fridge.

“I made cake… still like milk?”

You heated the milk, infusing it with a pinch of saffron and a dash of honey, you seemed happy to serve this, this was what you served Helena when she had too many bad days.

“Helena is a very special girl… she’s so smart but I think she’s lonely. Her powers make it hard for her to have friends, being a super genius makes it hard for her to relate to kids… then on top of that there are the other powers– she really lucked out there but I can’t afford to make her into a Supe.  You wasted your time there.”

She was your pride, you wanted to bolster to anybody about how special your daughter was, she was all you had after all, the only thing that kept you going. You wanted to shove it in his face just all the good that he had thrown away, and will never experience.

“She can teleport.” He said taking the cup, the taste was sweet and delicious, it would help him sleep soundly tonight– pretty impressive.”

“Teleport?” You look puzzled then your head shakes as you laugh lightly– no, silly. She can’t teleport. I gathered you talked to her– don’t do that again. But… no she can’t teleport… Helena can turn invisible like Translucent but better… She can make her clothes invisible too, and make psionic force fields. What you witnessed was her putting herself in an invisible bubble and making the bubble float away from you.”

You tried to contain the panic inside you with a stiff grin, boasting calmed you down.

“I didn’t hear her heartbeat.” He argued back.

“What happens in the bubble stays in the bubble… including sounds. Trust me I’d sat down and watched her experiment.” 

“That’s impressive.” He smiled proudly.

“Until she runs out of oxygen.” you moved past him wishing you had space for a dining table, all you had in your living room was a coffee table, your couch, the TV and two large floor cushions, you and Helena ate on the floor in front of the TV and your seating options felt too intimate but alas is the floor– she has two types of force fields…”

“Can she fly?”

“Technically no but yes if you ask her, the second type of bubble… she can float inside it, but I won’t let her test the limits of the bubble.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want my daughter to end up splattered all over the sidewalk!” you hissed.

Homelander followed you, taking his place on the floor too excited to talk about this to care about being asked to sit like a dog 

“So she’s out there with the best… When she was three she told me her superhero name was ‘Ghost Girl’ but that died quickly. So it's your turn to talk, Homelander.”

Homelander was unsure where to begin, taking a long sip of his drink, you had stopped calling him by his name, you had taken John and made it your own, but he had taken it back as he ended it all.

So he told you quite a story, about how he learned about Ryan, about all the secrets Vought had kept from him, how they had kept Ryan trapped in a cage, about the lies he told you about his parents, and his actual upbringing. You sat in silence unable to respond as he told you the horrific things he endured with a straight face, as if you were speaking to somebody else, about how much he had wanted a family and about how he felt when he believed you’d betray him.

Homelander had been happy, he thought he had finally found somebody to have a life with, he was angry, he wanted to hurt you, and after it was all done he pushed your memory aside.

But above all how he now regretted it all.

“I was awful to you, but now that Vought belongs to me that means they will never hurt Helena.”

You stared at him coldly.

“So Ryan was born with powers… So no matter what– Helena would have always had powers?”

“I don’t know. Her powers are nothing like mine, and she’s still young so she might…”

“God I certainly hope not. Look I’m sorry all of those things happened to your son, and you. I’m glad Helena is safer now, and I thank you for that— but cut to the chase. What is it that you want? You want me to tell her about you? She never wanted a father, heck I don’t think she needs me!” You snapped, trying to force the empathy out of your system.

“Why would you say that?”

“Helena is… different… I dunno what is happening in her mind ever.”

It stung to say those things, your love for her didn’t change things, but it was a pervasive thought you endured… awful thoughts about your daughter.

“Helena was a quiet baby… hardly ever cried. I took her to several doctors and nobody could figure out why my baby didn’t cry, why she seemed to live inside her mind, why she always stared at nothing… When she started to talk, the more she absorbed, the more she learned, the less of a baby she became– my daughter is an adult trapped in a baby’s body.” You took a quick bite but it was hard to swallow– the first time she showed her powers… the force fields… we were walking home when some drive-by took place. We had only gone for a stroll, I wanted to save on gas so we walked to the grocery… we… when the bullets stopped in front of my own eyes.”

You could see that sunny afternoon so vividly, the random kids doing their thing until some gray car drove by, the thunderous sound of bullets, and a wounded boy staring at the bullet that would’ve taken his life had your daughter’s forcefield hadn’t enveloped the whole sidewalk.

With a slight flick of her wrist the bullets were returned, two men lost their lives and one was wounded, the group of kids on your sidewalk survived and the boy who almost bled out, your boss’s nephew helped you get your job.

“Helena didn’t care.”

Those two lifeless bodies rotting slowly before you, hadn’t mattered to her, she simply scoffed and asked if the police were going to arrest her before the ice cream melted.

Homelander now had something to work with in terms of records but he didn’t need them anymore.

“I love her… but I worry she’s…”

“She just needs to be with more of her kind. Y/N I want to offer you a job… your job back…”

“No.” You jumped back on your heels– I don’t want anything to do with you, Homelander.”

“I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes I did with Ryan and her mother! I want to be in her life and you need me to be in her life…” He bore his fangs– with her powers you cannot provide her with the future she deserves. You would never clean enough tables and scrape enough tips to get her what she deserves–

“So you’re just going to wave money at me and act like that fixes everything?” There was so much disgust in your face, even he grew silent– I… I don’t want your money and I’ll make sure Helena has all she needs, if you want to give me money why don’t you start by unfreezing MY bank accounts so I can move the fuck out of this place! If you are so concerned about your daughter’s wellbeing all of a sudden… then let me take care of her.” You growled at him.

“Would that be enough for you to let me be in her life?” He looked so vulnerable right now trying not to anger you further– If you take… if you take the job at Vought you’ve making four times what you make at your two jobs”

“I don’t want to owe you anything.”

You hated yourself, your ego and your honor had been bruised and never healed, you clung to those broken limbs hoping you had it in you to deny him but that look in his eyes and his crazy story told you he wasn’t ever going to stop until he got you to agree.

You knew what man he truly was, you could still see the red, hear his screams and the smell of blood. For once you had to be a hypocrite.

“... You… You can’t tell her… until… until I think it is okay… I won’t work for you… not the job that you’re offering me… I can quit my second job and take yours part-time. I’ll choose my days! Only three days tops, same pay! and Helena can have access to Vought training resources and daycare.” You sank on your shoulders– her powers are only going to get stronger and if she ever loses control… it’ll be my fault if somebody gets hurt again.”

The request was absurd but Homelander was on his feet taking your hand, a beam in his eyes and a shaky smile.

“Your son… he might take it badly if you suddenly bring another kid saying is his sister, you have to be gentle or he’ll get hurt. We can try figure this out… just don’t hurt my kid or yours.”

Your concern was genuine, and his heart began to melt as he saw the worry in your eyes for a child that wasn’t yours.

“Thank you… can… can I come tomorrow to discuss the details?”

You nodded, unable to look at him in the eyes any further, shocked when you received a strange short lived hug, as he parted and headed to the door where your daughter slept soundly, he peered through the crack for quite some time.

You hated him but you couldn’t deny you needed the help, he owed you seven years of child support, he had made you sleep in your car, he had made you fearful of sleep as you slept in shelters and filled you with shame as you jumped from couch to couch with the world's quietest baby.

So he had his usefulness, money wouldn’t fix anything but it would make Helena's life easier.

Taglist: Hi 'cuz you asked here you go @fromforeigntofamiliarity

#personal #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #the boys oc #homelander fanfiction #american royalty #my fic tag #homelander x f! reader #will add to pin post later

[infinitesimaldna]

The Giving Season

It was the annual gift exchange for the friend group, but something was up. Janus could tell.

And no, it didn't have to do with his feelings towards the other two in the room, that'd be ridiculous.

What was going down this holiday season?

------

Ao3 Link

(Not currently posted but I'll edit it when Ao3 comes back online)

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Tw: Mention of sex (just Remus being Remus, not graphic whatsoever)

Ships: Intruloceit, background Prinxiety

Word Count: 3,456

Notes: This is my gift in the @sanderssidesgiftxchange for @edupunkn00b! I had a super fun time making it, and I really hope you enjoy <3

Also, all the love to my beta, @quillienvii. They were with me through every step of this journey, and I cannot be more thankful for them

Without further ado, fic under the cut!

The get-together was meant to start 20 minutes ago, which meant everything was going according to plan. 

Currently, the only ones present were Logan, Janus, and Remus. Logan had been there at exactly noon, Janus dragging Remus through the door a few minutes later. The gathering was taking place at Patton’s, so he should be here currently, but he had gone out to pick up Roman after he apparently had been having issues with his car. Since Roman had also intended to pick Virgil up and bring him to the festivities, that meant they were also short one emo until Patton made his way back with the other two in tow. 

Either way, Janus was getting impatient. That also meant if he was starting to feel impatient, Remus was practically jumping from anticipation already. Logan was probably doing fine, he always plotted extra time in their hangouts for the purposes of one or more of them being late. And he was always less uptight around the holidays.

Janus really enjoyed the season for that reason.

That, and how Remus would share the same facts every year without fail. Like right now.

“Did you guys know that in Belgium, Santa has a cannibal manservant slave that eats the bad children for him instead of just giving them coal?”

“Oh good, Remus is already starting the facts. I can cross that one off my bingo card.”  Janus hadn’t actually made a bingo card, but it was certainly an idea for next year.

“Shame. I had his fact about people breaking into noble’s houses while caroling on my own.” Logan’s comment was accompanied by a look sent his way, just a hint of a smile there, one that made his own face attempt to betray him and give a genuine smile back. He was able to work it down to a smirk, and thankfully Logan didn’t seem to notice. 

“If you guys are gonna keep teaming up on me, I’m just gonna go outside and strip in the snow.”

“No! I mean,” Logan took his glasses off, wiping them on the edge of his shirt before replacing them on his nose. “We can desist, Remus. There’s no need for our gathering to end up taking place in a police station holding cell.”

“Well, we gotta find something to do. Everyone else is taking so long, and I don’t know why.”

“If I recall, Roman is late because his car tire was punctured.” Janus punctuated his own addition to the conversation with a sip from his eggnog. “Weren’t you just saying to me yesterday that you punctured his wheel before you left for my place? And that’s why you needed to stay the night, to lay low until he calmed down?”

“I bought him a new pair of wheels for Christmas! It’s not like he didn’t need them, the old ones were losing their traction. I just…”

“Forgot he would need the car to get here for you to give him his gift?” The judgment was palpable in Logan’s voice, and Janus would be lying if he said he didn’t get some enjoyment out of it. How did he manage to fall for both the smartest and dumbest members of their group?

Not that either of the party’s present currently knew of his feelings. No, there was no need for that. His little crushes would pass soon enough, and the group dynamic would go back to normal. One couple in their friend group was already enough, and polyamory was complicated. Both Logan and Remus did tend to want to keep things rather simplistic, in their own ways. It was better if they stayed separate.

“Janie, back me up here!” The nasally call of Remus pulled him out of his thoughts, but he was quick to recover. 

“I wasn’t listening, and I’m sure you’re wrong anyway.” 

Remus huffed, jumping back to curl up on the couch, legs pulled up and arms crossed against his chest. “I get no respect around here.”

“You would be upset if either of us ever claimed to respect you unconditionally.” Logan’s claim seemed to bring Remus right back out of his pretend pouty episode, as he was shooting up from the couch a second later. 

“You’re right there, Nerdy Wolverine! Now come on, surely, we don’t have to wait for the others. We can just, start, you know? I’m sure no one’s thaaaaat interested in what we all got each other, I know Roman just cares about Virgil’s reaction to whatever he got him.”

Janus rolled his eyes, all too happy to let Logan take this one. It was always a team effort in managing their friend.

“I… suppose there’s not too much of an issue with that. So long as everyone here acquiesced and we got confirmation from the other’s before opening anything.”

See, now Janus was puzzled. Logan, willingly going against the schedule, agreeing with Remus in one of his ideas? And not just in some theoretical debate the two commonly had over body decomposition and the like. No, this was just going along with one of Remus’ tamer ideas. What was Logan up to?

“Perfect! I’ll text Robro and let him know.” Remus was typing and practically had the text typed before Logan could even remind him to ask, not tell. Well, this was the chaos Janus had signed up for when he hadn’t fallen for one moron and one genius who was always a little too indulgent. 

It didn’t take long for the three of them to get settled around the living area, their usual spots working well. Logan was on the far right of the couch, Remus leaning against that same arm, and Janus in the armchair closest to Logan’s seat. The other half of the couch and the loveseat were left empty, but the space felt filled enough, especially with the presents located next to each person. Plenty more were still in their place beneath the tree, but these were the only important ones right now.

“Well, I propose Remus starts, as I’m surprised he even managed to go this long without blurting out what he got each of us.” Logan’s suggestion was probably smart. The ratman was already bouncing on his heels, his body rocking back and forth as small giggles emerged from his crooked smile. The fact that his mouth was still shut was astounding. 

“Oh goody!” Within seconds, Janus had a larger wrapped box in his lap, and a quick glance told him Logan had received a similar package, albeit with different wrapping. Logan’s had little test tubes, although there did seem to be some hand-drawn explosions surrounding the chemistry equipment. Janus’ own paper had snakes all over it, but the one right next to the tag had a hat very similar to Janus’ own drawn atop its head. 

He would have to open this carefully to keep from ripping that particular scrap of paper. It definitely wouldn’t be making its way into his secret scrapbook collection that none of the others knew about.

“Open ‘em, open ‘em!” Janus didn’t fight the smile so much this time, if only because his gaze was down towards his gift. And… oh. 

“Remus, what is this?” The paper wasn’t fully removed, but he had peeled the edge enough to get a glimpse and he wasn’t sure about what he saw. At least, he shouldn’t be seeing this, if his previous statement was correct.

“I found your hidden scrapbook supplies! I didn’t look through any of the albums you’ve made, but I figured you could always use more stuff. Plus, it didn’t like you had a pair of crafting scissors in there, and those things are crazy sharp and good for stabbing things. I figured you could use a pair.”

“But how did you—”

“Jan, I’ve stayed the night at your house how many times? Me digging through your cabinets had to be something you expected.” 

Well, it definitely wasn’t out of character, but still. He was known among all of them as being the best with secrets. For Remus to know… 

“I suppose it isn’t the worst thing in the world.” Janus’ words triggered a small stim noise from Remus, the smallest sound before he rounded onto Logan, fully turning around and almost hitting the coffee table in his effort to face the other.

“And Logan? Whatcha think?”

Logan’s gift was smaller from what Janus could see, but that wasn’t much from the way it was carefully cupped in the nerd’s hands. 

“Is this a tie pin?”

“Yup! I figured you could use a new one, your old one was starting to rust a little bit.”

“And it’s shaped like a tiny tie.”

“Uh huh! That way you can be a nerd squared. Double ties!”

It was silent for a minute, Janus holding back his own comments as he examined Logan’s face. His own opinion on the quality of the gift was inconsequential until Logan’s reaction could be judged. And he had always been hard to read. 

The next noise to fill the space was a small chuckle, the volume of which slowly rose as Logan lifted his head. “It is an adequate gift, Remus. Thank you.”

“Aw, no problem! All I ask for in return is that my own gift is a pet squid.”

“You do not have the space at your and Roman’s townhouse to accommodate such an animal.”

“Life finds a way.”

“No, we are not having another discussion on Jurassic Park, at least not while I’m the only one who has to suffer through it.” Janus took a moment to mourn the fact that his eggnog cup was empty, and that the alcohol content was not nearly as high as he would appreciate. 

It was only 12:30 but it was never too early to be drinking if Remus and Logan were discussing their theories again. 

“Well then, I suppose it’s your turn to pass out gifts?” Again, Janus was left off-put by Logan’s contribution. He normally insisted (or at least suggested) they go clockwise when moving around the circle for their gift exchange; here he was suggesting the opposite. Still, Janus would avoid voicing his notice of the suspicious behavior until after the gift exchange, hopefully when Remus was being distracted bothering someone else.

There was little fanfare to the way Janus took the gifts from his side, passing Logan his while throwing Remus’ down towards him, fairly certain he would catch it. They were both decent in size, but nothing so over-the-top as to arouse suspicion. Just normal gifts for normal friends that mean nothing more in hidden messages.

“Janus, this is very kind. I hadn’t even had time to think about purchasing them myself.” In his hand were the discs for the Ace Attorney trilogy. The two of them had a conversation, months ago now, about the games and the fascinating introspective look into the Japanese court system they provided. When Logan had admitted to never actually playing the games himself, simply watching video essays about them online, Janus had been quick to suggest they could go through them together one day. In all seriousness the comment hadn’t been something he intended to come back to, but as the holiday season rolled around, he found himself compelled. It was a fun experience that incorporated learning new information, all of which was right up Logan’s alley. And if he happened to be allowed to watch and use it as an excuse to spend more time around the other, then that was nobody’s business but his own. 

“Oh Jannie, you shouldn’t have!” Remus, coincidentally, had also been given something video game related. His old DDR mat had been torn to all hell—Janus was pretty sure Remus had been stepping on live wires the last time the two had played. So, a new mat.

“I definitely didn’t make it slip-proof either so it would be sturdier and last longer.” 

“Oh, Roman’s gonna kill you for this one.” It was true, Roman hated their DDR sessions. 

“Not my fault he’s not great at the game. He really needs to stop being a sore loser every time he fails a level we can both full combo with ease.”

“To be fair, you both are able to full combo level 15’s on that game.”

“Oh, I actually got my first full combo on a level 16 the other day!” Remus spoke with such an enthused grin, and Janus allowed himself a smile as well. It had taken nearly 30 minutes of trying the same song over and over before Remus had gotten it, with Janus sitting on the sideline for moral support after the first attempt or two. He had been so happy when he succeeded.

“Well, hopefully this helps you even more, I can’t wait to see your brother’s face when you really start showing him up.” Of course, Janus had nothing but good will towards his other friend, but right now the grin on Remus’ face was just a tad more important. He wasn’t around to hear, anyway.

“Oh, he’s gonna be—”

The rest of Remus’ statement was cut off by a loud thud, attracting all of their attention yet only making Logan jump. 

“What in the world was—”

“Ah, it seems it’s my turn to deliver your gifts.” Logan straightened his tie as he readjusted in his seat, and Janus could have sworn he heard him say “although they could’ve just texted” under his breath.

It seemed Janus wouldn’t be waiting to ask about his suspicious behavior, then. “Logan, what are you up to?”

“And what was the thud?” Remus chimed in.

“Please, just indulge me a moment longer.” He was quick to pass Remus and Janus small packages then, identical in their traditional Christmas blue and silver wrapping from what he could tell. “Go ahead, open them.”

Janus cast a glance in Remus’ direction, not entirely surprised to see him shrug and then move to open his gift, spurring himself to do the same. If his theory was right, whatever he and Remus had was the same thing, and he’d rather not have his gift spoiled because he was watching someone else.

He wasn’t as careful with the paper this time, wrapping it a bit recklessly and pulling the box from beneath. It looked like a box one would use to hold a gift card, but pulling off the lid revealed no such thing. Instead, the words “look outside” were neatly written in Logan’s compact handwriting. 

There was a moment of eye contact between Janus and Remus before the latter raced to the window the sound had come from earlier. Janus wasn’t too far behind, if more civilized in his refusal to hop over the couch. 

The curtains were pulled back quickly, and very prominently, there was a message splayed out on the lawn, pressed into the fallen snow and definitely large enough for them both to read.

‘Will you both go out with me?’

“I… apologize for the untraditional nature of my gift, if one can even call it that, but I thought this would be the best way for me to ask.”

The attention was back on Logan before he even finished talking, Janus’ face for once not hiding any of his expression, his jaw open and eyes wide in surprise. He…?

“Both of us?” Remus normally had a nasally tone when he spoke, but this wasn’t that. No, there was a tremor in his voice, the same one Janus was sure he would have if he tried to speak right now. 

“Yes. I’ve come to develop feelings for both of you, and if I recall properly, you have both expressed that you’re okay with polyamory in the past.”

“That wasn’t your answer, though.” Janus felt the words leave his throat, no accusatory tone behind them. Not really any tone behind them. He was just speaking.

“Not at the time. I didn’t believe polyamory was for me, until I started to develop feelings for both of you. I came to realize that in dating only one of you, it would feel incomplete without the other. When it comes to—ugh—feelings, we all know I’m hardly a master on the subject. But I know what I feel for each of you, and I would like to know if this is something you’d be inclined to explore further.”

“And I thought hiding my feelings was the best answer.”

That came from Remus, somehow. Not himself. Huh.

“Have we all been harboring secret feelings for one another and just not said anything this whole time?”

“Well, I was kinda obvious. I did suggest having sex to both of you multiple times.”

“And we took you very seriously in that offer, Remus, truly.”

“As for myself, I only realized my feelings in their entirety a month or so ago,” Logan said. “Then, I started planning this, so I wasn’t hiding my own, per say.”

“Well then Jannie, what’s your excuse?” Remus was leaning against his shoulder when he asked, face inches away from his own. Just the kind of pressure he needed at that moment.

“Some things are better kept in secret until the time is right.”

“And for you that ‘right time’ would’ve been never. Right, Logan, I think it’s clear enough we both return your feelings and wanna go for polyamory. We can work out all the juicy stuff later.” 

“That is acceptable to me. Janus?” 

Both sets of eyes were now on him, Remus looking with a mischievous grin and Logan, a soft and hopeful smile. 

He nodded.

Remus whooped, and Logan breathed a sigh of relief. “You have no idea how hard it was coordinating with the other three to make this happen.”

“Wait, they were in on it?” He was so glad Remus had backed up before he spoke, because that yell was loud.

“Of course, I needed someone to make the sign while I kept you distracted inside. They’re out there right now waiting for me to text them about your answers. Speaking of which…” Logan was quick to pull his phone out, presumably sending the aforementioned text. 

“But how were you planning to get them all here late? It’s Patton’s house, and you couldn’t have known Remus would puncture Roman’s tire.”

“It was for his gift!”

“Yes, well, the original plan was for Roman to just fake having car troubles, requiring Paton to go and pick him up.” As he spoke, Logan adjusted his glasses, the pretty pink that had been coloring his cheeks finally dulling a bit. Shame. “Remus’ pranks just added another level of realism to the whole thing, if annoying Roman in the process. I do find it humorous that he unknowingly contributed to a plan he wasn’t even aware of.”

“I’m right here, you know!”

“Well, we can never be sure what that one will do,” Janus said with a smirk, all too agreeable with continuing the bit.

“You guys are so rude. I deserve cuddles and kisses for this behavior.” The pout on Remus’ face was absolutely adorable.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to hold off on that for now,” Logan said, and Janus noticed he was checking a text on his phone. “It appears our presence is being requested outside as ‘Roman really wants to hit Remus upside the head with a snowball as payback.’”

“Oh, he really thinks he can win a snowball fight? I have a whole harem on my side.”

“Debatable,” Janus chimed in, making his way towards the staircase so he could get to the first floor and into the inevitable snow day they were all about to have.

“The us being a harem thing or you guys being on my side?”

“Both,” answered Logan, and Janus felt he could kiss him right there.

“Hey!”

They made their way outside after only one attempt from Remus to steal Janus’ coat, quickly being enveloped in hugs and congratulations from Patton. Roman and Virgil, it seemed, would be sending their congratulations over later, as they were currently hidden behind a snow wall which Janus was sure had plenty of ammo waiting behind it.

And he never was one to go for the side with a disadvantage now, was he?

Sure, the first acts of his new relationship were now making fun of one of his partners and then abandoning them for the other side in a snowball fight, and he definitely hit Remus right on his mustache with one of them, but honestly, this was who he was. This was the manipulative liar that apparently, both of his crushes had fallen for.

So no, Janus had no problems with his actions. He very much doubted his boyfriends did, either.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides gift exchange #fanfic #fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #logan sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #intruloceit #gift exchange #i love them #happy holidays everyone

[cuubism]

wip update

since I have a good number of actively-posting WIPs that some lovely people have been very kind about and invested in (and which I am very slow in updating), I figured it might be only polite to post a little update on where those are.

the melting press of the sun (dreamling) - Never intended this as a longfic, there may or may not be more than the 2 chapters it has now. I have a bit more written but it's disjointed and incomplete. I intentionally didn't leave any brutal cliffhangers on what I did post for this reason. We'll see if that one comes back.

Deja vu, Deja connu (dreamling) - The slowness in updating probably belies how deeply emotionally invested I actually am in this fic. Chapter three is just a major challenge--it's very long, covers a lot, has lots of fluff in the first part (fluff is kinda my Achilles heel, though not quite as much as wedding scenes, which this chapter also has) and a lot of heavy content later. But I have the whole fic outlined, a bunch of chapter 4 and 5 written in advance, and I'm super excited about the stuff that comes later, so it will definitely be finished, just... slowly. At least for this chapter.

In Waking Dreams (dreamling) - My current priority for an update. Chapter 4 just hit 10k and will probably hit 15k before its done (god help me), and I feel somewhat obliged to finish chapter 5 as well so I can post them in quick succession. Chapter 4 necessarily ends on a cliffhanger as it catches up to the events of chapter 3, but I feel bad about two cliffhangers in a row. But that one soon, I hope. (chapter 5 has a lot of the juiciest, long awaited scenes promised by the fic's premise, so I hope you will like that one when it's finally done 😅)

IRL (malec) - Fic that I have a tendency to get stuck on for 15 months, then write a ton of all at once, repeat. But I actually picked it up again the other day for the first time in ages, and I think I know all of the events of the chapter now, so who knows! Maybe I'll actually manage an update!

Subject: I Love You (malec) - Fic that I shamefully left with ONE CHAPTER remaining for a full year now. Honestly not sure why. Someday I will pick it up tho, I swear to god, or maybe I'll just cut the chapter short and make it an epilogue. (Actually maybe I do know why. It's another damn proposal/wedding scene. My absolute weakness and failure, I should stop writing them entirely)

mind & heart, body & soul (malec) - This fic haunts me, it follows me around 24/7 like a vengeful spirit that can't find rest. I can't wrangle it back into making any sense in my head, but for the sake of both my own sanity and the story's frankly frightening number of readers (I love you but you scare me), I've been trying to do one final chapter to offer some kind of wrap-up. Hopefully I can manage it.

Leviathan (malec) - My long held passion project that I have, in classic form, not touched in months. In fact I've been stuck on the same chapter I'm on now since probably 2020, when I first started writing the fic. This particular middle part of the fic is just vexing me to no end. At some point, I will decide on a course of action, inevitably flawed, and just power through that chapter (I say, for the 2nd year in a row). Why did I give this story two big villains again? Or think having a whole separate story arc in the middle of the fic was a good idea? Ah well.

in the palm of your hand (malec) - The one and only multichapter I finally caved and marked abandoned. I learnt my lesson with this fic about letting a oneshot expand into a completely unplanned longer fic. Boy did I...

----

I feel like I don't express it enough, but I really appreciate everyone who's ever read one of my fics, commented, kudos'd, chatted with me about them on tumblr, made podfics or art or translations, shared headcanons in my inbox or your own fics with me... I'm always blown away by the kindness and interest, and love getting to share little (or big!) stories with you and am so happy when you enjoy them ❤️ I love doing fandom with you.

#i'm bad at expressing emotion ack #my fics

[dangerpronebuddie]

so I love all of these WIPs, you're doing an amazing job!! could u tell me more about WIP 1-3? I literally wanna read all of them but let's start somewhere 🤭

Hey dear 🥰🩷 Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying them!

1. Eddie is a gremlin and makes it everyone's problem.

I've answered for this one a few times, but I am more than happy to tell you a little bit more. Eddie's sass has managed to keep him sorta out of trouble so far, but it's bound to backfire eventually right? The bar fight fic was supposed to take a week or so, but... with like 30 other ideas bouncing in my head like the DVD logo, it's been pushed to the back burner. If I share a new snippet, I'll probably have the entire fic on here, so I'll give you one I've already posted, that happens to be my favorite part of the fic!:

Eddie looked up from the floor, an ice pack pressed to his eye, and winced at Athena’s unimpressed expression.

“Alright. Who started it?” she asked, resting her hands on her belt.

Like a line of dominoes starting with Bobby, the entire team turned their bruised heads towards Eddie, who grimaced and shrank away from their glares.

“Really, Eddie?” Athena asked.

“In my defense, it was in Hen's defense,” he reasoned.

“You cannot blame all this on me, Edmundo,” Hen drawled.

“It's true,” he persisted, turning his pleading eyes on her. She simply rolled her eyes. He turned back to Athena. “One of the guys in there insulted her. I was already kinda miffed ‘cause my patient took a swing at me, so I tried to calm him down.”

“Calling him a repressed boomer isn't exactly the way to go,” Chim piped up, his voice still nasally. Eddie was surprised the dude didn't break Chim's nose.

Buck snorted a laugh, the traitor.

2. Welcome home cheater (brand new wip)

Jealous Buck my beloved! I'm hoping to get this short and silly piece out before Thursday, but... Ya never know! I'm hoping to incorporate all the 7x04 stills in some capacity, at least the ones involving Tommy, but we'll see how it goes! Have something I just wrote:

"Evan," Maddie said, "you didn't mean to hurt him, did you?"

"Not Eddie," Buck said in a quiet voice.

"Oh." Maddie drew out the word as she nodded. "You were aiming for Tommy."

Buck grimaced.

"If you explain what really happened, I-"

"I can't do that," Buck protested.

"Why not?"

"Because if I tell him I was aiming for Tommy, he's gonna want to know why. And I can't tell him without telling him," Buck explained.

"Maybe you should tell him," she suggested.

"Are you out of your mind?" Buck balked.

3. Eddie has a burn on his arm, bruises on his skin, and a target on his back.

Slight Air and Purging Fire, my baby 🥰. The amount of Eddie whump in this fic surprised even me 😅. I regret nothing. It's pretty much complete, but I have a few scenes I need to move around and tweak some more. For you, here's a little snippet:

They rolled to a stop and Buck leapt out of the cab, sprinting around the side of the building. Eddie lay crumpled on the ground, blood oozing from a gash on his forehead. His eyes were closed and his breathing was ragged.

“Eddie,” Buck gasped out, dropping to his knees beside him. He pressed his fingers to Eddie's pulse. Thready, but there! “Eddie, baby, wake up,” he pleaded, carding his fingers through his hair.

Ask about my wips!

#911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911 abc #911 spoilers #fanfic #my writing #tag game

[ro-aming]

Confessions in The Valley, Stardew valley heart event scenarios :)

Hellooo this is a colleciton of fics of how the stardew valley bachelor/etts would confess to you after reahcing full hearts. I think there needs to be more stradew fics:>. The first 3 chapters are old that i wrote like 2 years ago but I'll write the rest after positng these! Lemme know what bachelor you wanna see next<3

(sorry idk know how to format text posts very well)

 What a long day jeez…

You'd just finished up another long day on the farm. You'd barely left the property all day. Too many fences to fix and crops to water, not to mention the amount of debris you had to clear. Damn, maybe that golden clock is worth it. You wiped the sweat from your brow as you walked down the stone path of town square. At least the sun setting has granted you some peace from the harsh summer heat. The pavement quickly turned to plush sand beneath your feet as you headed down from the mayor's front yard, your steps illuminated by the warm buzzing lamppost. Elliot makes good company on nights like these. Bright nights after tiring days and you could just sit and talk with him and Leah, or even willy, until exhaustion crashes over you like the waves surrounding the valley.

  “Hey Farmer!!” Leah spots you from around the corner of Elliot's house and greets you cheerily. She's definitely drunk, holding a bottle of wine you gifted her and chuckling a little too loud. She's a dear friend of yours, you feel truly lucky to be so welcomed in this town especially by such warm faces. Leah wastes no time wrapping you in a hug dragging you to the bench where Elliot sits, staring at you both with a gentle smile.

  “Evening Farmer,” Elliot gazes at you patting the open spot next to him allowing you and Leah to take a seat by his side. “Day treating you well I hope?”.

  “Hey Elliot!” You beam at him scooting close with Leah at your left and Elliot on your right. Leah passes the open bottle to you, offering you a drink. “My day has been well, tiring but I managed” you chuckle taking a swig of the bitter fruit wine. Letting the alcohol warm your throat and flush your skin. It's simple to be here with them. You all laugh and catch up talking about your weeks for a couple hours. Leah's eyes light up under their drunken haze as she describes in detail her newest sculpture. Neither you nor Elliot can avoid giggling at her when she stumbles over her words, she's easily excitable especially when drunk.

  “I haven't gotten much writing done this week,” Elliot interjects the smooth convo to share what's on his mind. “I don't really know why, but I feel…distracted I suppose. Normally writing is of the utmost importance in my mind. Though lately I haven't been able to think of much at all.” He stares at his feet with an embarrassed half smile. You peek at him quizzically wondering to yourself how much this has really been bothering him. Elliot takes his writing very seriously. It's like his life force and he's not easy on himself when success doesn't come to him.

 Leah snakes her hand behind your back to lay on Elliot's shoulder, gently patting the silk button up covering his skin. “Aw Elliot c'mon you don't need to be so down about that,” She leans forward and exchanges a quick glance with him. You can't quite see it but in a span of two seconds they seem to have an entire conversation with their eyes. Leah looks at him slightly questioning and Elliot nods softly. “You're probably tired man, you'll get back into the swing you know that, Right Farmer?” She throws you into the conversation making you lose your focus on their silent debate of facial expressions.

  “Y-yes of course, you're probably just burnt out Elliot. I mean you can't expect to have your creativity at 100 percent every day” You smile at him hoping to reassure his worries, it seems to work at least on the surface.

  “Welp!” Leah stands up suddenly stretching her back and arms. “I'm headed home for the night, I have an important call tomorrow I really shouldn't be hung over for '' Leah giggles to herself at her comment before patting your head. “Take care, you two G'night ''.

  “ Night Leah ” You and Elliot speak in unison as she saunters off, still cheery as ever. You hope she can get home without tripping in the dirt hehe. A silence falls over you two as you lean back with your palms on the hardwood, staring out at the sea. Bright lights decorate the blanket of night sky glaring off the ocean and casting a glow in your eyes. You can see Elliot staring at you from your peripheral. He does that a lot lately.

 While you're in the library together gathering books to share with Penny and the kids, or while you're picking pomegranates from your tree for him. You'll catch him staring at you silently, though the warmth in his eyes says quite a lot. You normally don't pay it mind, thinking of it as just your wishful thinking or fantastical mind being corrupted by a beautiful set of emerald eyes. Right now however…as you gaze out at the ocean you can't help the warmth pooling in your gut as he stares at you like you're the brightest star he's ever seen.

  “When you moved here, Farmer,” he breaks the silence suddenly, now fully facing you. “Were you scared? Or perhaps lonely?'' What a strange question you think as you giggle out loud leaning into his shoulder as laughter lights up your face. You couldn't help it, just such a brash question out of nowhere. “H-hey! Don't laugh jeez!” he blushes but laughs with you anyways. He doesn't embarrass easily, his pride keeps him quite sturdy.

  “Sorry it just…seems like such a silly question coming from you of all people '' You look up into his eyes as you're against his shoulder. It crosses your mind that you may be too close right now but you can't bring yourself to care

  “Why is that silly?’ He asks feigning offense while smiling at you

  “Elliot you gave up a lot more than I did coming out here” Your hand falls into his lap as you straighten up a bit “You know better than anyone that it takes a little bravery to get to what makes you happy. So of course I was scared but I didn't really have much to lose to begin with. Coming here was my only chance to make things right so even if I was scared it couldn't be worse than where I already was.” You peer back at the ocean reflecting, like the stars, on how you felt coming here the first time. Unlike Elliot who risked his previous way of life, you really did have nothing. You barely made enough money to pay rent and certainly did not meet many friendly faces in the city.

  “And as for loneliness…I was at first. I was nervous that such a small community wouldn't react well to outsiders and even still sometimes I wonder who really likes me.” You feel the air chill your skin and send shivers up your spine. Elliot takes notice and gently wraps his arm around your mid back. “But I have you don't I?” his eyes widened at your comment, only slightly. He stares down at you trying to detect the intent behind what you said. You watch his cheeks grow red and you don't think it's from the cold.

  A smirk paints itself across his face,  “Now look who's saying silly things.” He teases. Your face grows bright red and a wave of soberness suddenly crashes on you as you recoil from his touch, fixing your posture. He looks disappointed.

  “W-well c'mon you know what I meant!” you stutter over your words as butterflies fill your tummy. Your hand still sits in his lap and he's taken hold of it now stroking the back of your hand with his thumb as he looks away. His usual composed nature, it's completely broken down right now. That slightly arrogant tone in his voice that carries his confident words and elegant speech patterns…none of that is here anymore. Instead he holds your hand tight and refuses to meet your eyes and he's blushing. A ridiculously bright shade of red. “Elliot I- what's-?”

  “When i moved here,” He spoke again, squeaking out his words. “ I wasn't scared, or if I was , I didn't let myself feel it. I knew what I wanted. I wanted to turn against what everyone has pushed on me my whole life” his confidence was slowly seeping back into his words “That i needed to look for a real job, a real purpose. I should just find a wife and a good paying job and settle down. My family would constantly chastise me with that crap.” It felt unusual to hear him swear like that. You held his hand in yours tight as you watched a gloss come over his eyes as they watered.

  “I couldn't ever shake the feeling that I was meant to create something. That my purpose was to have my words mean something to someone.” He peers at you again as his hair falls around his face framing his intense expression. “But lately, I've been distracted by my feelings. The more I adjust to life here, the more I wish to seek out temporary fixes for my own bitter feelings. Joys like friendship and learned skills and…love” Your eyes widen slightly shocked before lowering again in slight disappointment. Is he in love with someone? Is that why he's so bothered lately?.

“I didn't want to let myself get too close to others. For some reason I felt like if I didn't do this alone, if I didn't become successful on my own, that all my work would be undermined again. Or that other people would be a distraction from what i was meant to be doing.” His hand slides from your palm to your forearm as he turns to fully face you. You're leaned against his chest staring up at his eyes that are illuminated by the stars. He's gazing at you now and your heart throbs. What is he saying? “But my friends…and you have shown me lately that, if I were to try to do this on my own, not only would I fail, I'd sink into a lonely misery. Despair would destroy me and I'd become exactly what everyone expected of me. I know every great poet let their tragedy be the map to their creations, but my inspiration to continue. My inspiration to create and to smile and to learn… ” His unused hands take a gentle hold of your chin and his palms warm your cheek. “...Is you .” 

  “I've always loved the way you speak” you whisper now, leaning closer into his warm touch. Your heart sparks like a candle and the chilled air around you both blows the flame, steady and warm you remain under his gaze.

  “I've always loved you.” his grip on your jaw tightens as he tugs you forward, pulling your lips onto his. He's soft and delicate. With how passionate and charismatic his words are normally, he's surprisingly demure in the way he holds onto you. Like he's scared to break you. His lips continue to move against yours and he tastes faintly of cherry wine and salt. Everything around you is brighter than the moon shining down on the valley. You reluctantly serrate looking upon his disheveled face with mirth in your eyes and a smile playing on your now, tingling lips. “I want you to be my muse, now and for as long as you'll have me” The sincerity in his confession leaves you trembling. It felt so romantic to have his words directed at you this way. Yet so raw to be sitting on the beach half drunk in the middle of the night like this.

  You can't stop the giggle from leaving your mouth. You feel so relieved to know you are the fruits of his passion and desire. “I love you too, Elliot'' His smile grows exponentially and you pull him close to you again, Kissing him once more and already you feel the fondness of familiarity start to bloom. The moon shines down on the valley as a breeze blows through the trees lining the path where the town meets the coast. Distantly stars twinkle down on the sea and jellyfish glow beneath its surface. There's a soft light all around you and a brighter one burning inside you as Elliot keeps his lips against yours.

You reckon you'll stay down on the beach tonight, with Elliot, for as long as hell have you.

<3

I hope you enjoyed this ones my favorite :)

#stardew valley #stardew farmer #stardew valley elliott #elliot x farmer #elliot x reader #Stardew valley fluff #fluff #fanficion

[greenapricot]

2023 fic year in review

Doing my 2023 fic year in review in February bc that's how things are going in 2024 so far.

Total number of fic: 5 (1 still in progress)

Total word count: 24,217

Fandoms written in: Lewis (3), Endeavour (1), Our Flag Means Death (1)

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected? Less. Though I didn't really have any specific expectations about quantity, just that I wanted to write things I enjoyed writing regardless of the reception, as opposed to past years when I was fixated on the idea of writing a certain amount of fic per month. 2023 felt much more relaxed writing-wise and I'm also about halfway through a super self-indulgent fic that is probably going to end up being around 20k and I'm very pleased with that.

What’s your own favorite story of the year? The Names of All the Winds (Lewis, James/Robbie, magical realism au, alternate meeting). The aforementioned fic that's half done. I am having so much fun reliving my own holiday on Lake Garda by sending slightly alternate universe Robbie and James there and also writing magical realism which I hadn't done in a while.

Did you take any writing risks this year? I wouldn't call it a risk exactly, but Patterns Unfamiliar (Lewis, James/Robbie, hurt/comfort) was a fun challenge. My writing is usually very visual and it was interesting to have to describe what was happening in the story when the POV character was in complete darkness.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year? Finish TNoAtW, which I'm actively working on and hope to manage by the end of March.

And I've said this the last two years running, but I really do want to finish the sequel to Lead me wild to your dark roads my Lewis/Shetland xover (currently titled The last place we left off). I did do a fair amount of work on it before I entered the fic challenge that spawned TNoAtW, and wrote a good portion of the Shetland fic interlude that I've realized needs to go between the two stories. So both of those are next in line after TNoAtW.

Then there's the Blackbeard's Building & Renovation fic idea that was spawned in discord, in which Ed is a builder and Stede an interior decorator (each with their own crews) and they are both hired to work on the same house at the same time. Some kind of OFMD/Grand Designs-ish fusion. And, as ever, those three Lewis casefics that are mostly plotted and not anywhere close to completion.

Most popular story of the year? One thing at a time (Lewis, James/Robbie). It was spring, I had allergies, so I wrote a fic in which James had allergies. It seems to resonate with folks :D

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Nothing like poetry (Endeavour, post-s6 Ronnie Box angst). It has the least number of comments and kudos, but I don't actually think it's under-appreciated. Ronnie Box ruminating on the terrible mess his life is post-s6 is just very niche.

Most fun story to write: TNoAtW for all the reasons I mentioned above and adding my own photos to it. And it remains fun.

Most unintentionally telling story: I should probably make up another question to go here bc I never have a good answer for this, but The Most Remarkable Thing (OFMD, Ed/Stede, domestic fluff) was basically me putting my love of gardening and living a quiet life in the woods into fic form.

Biggest disappointment: I wouldn't say it was a disappointment, but I really did think I was going to finish the Lead me wild sequel in 2023. I think I'll finally finish it in 2024 though (this time for sure).

Biggest surprise: TNoAtW growing into what looks like it will be the third longest fic I've ever written.

Tagging people just for the fun of it (no pressure though): @bryndeavour, @thankyouforbeingsowrong, @vita-s-west, @mcgstarroar, @mr-iskender, @ronniebox

#fic year in review #inspector lewis #lewis #endeavour #itv endeavour #our flag means death #ofmd #writing #my fic

[choococho]

So in the Caesar and Kars example post I mentioned the APMW AU. It took me a while to post cause I was getting the gist of it down and trying to get my thoughts together, but it's finally here.

Behold

A pillarman world AU

A pillarman world: APMW: AU where the pillarmen won, taking over the world. They are all ultimate lifeforms, this includes Santana.

The AU is split into 3 different timelines:

Rebellion: APMW.R: Joseph, Caesar, lisa lisa and her 2 helpers all die, when does this happen I haven't decided yet, tho I think it will happen somewhere after the fight with Esidisi. In this version, one of the hamon users that were killed by Straizo managed to survive but with no memories of Straizo's betrayal and the existence of the pillarmen, regaining them piece by piece throughout the time period of BT while living in a small village in Mexico, and by the time the pillarmen became ultimate life forms, he regained full memories, and decided to start teaching the capable people of that town hamon in hopes of starting an underground society to take down the pillarmen. Years later, the news had made it around the globe through rebels that work among the servants of the pillarmen, and it's getting bigger and bigger, without the pillarmen's knowledge…or maybe they do know.

Last Chance: APMW.LC: this AU is similar to that of "Rebellion", with the difference being that the red stone of aja gang is not dead, and managed to escape last second and lived underground for a while, trying to plan how to take down the newly evolved pillarmen. Straizo's student still exists and he still taught the people of the town, but the news about them and the start of the society made it to the red aja gang before making it to anyone else abroad, and because of their advanced capabilities and great strategies, their group became the main leaders of the society, and they made sure to spread their influence to people that'll benefit them and were capable enough, while also keeping tabs on people that may betray them.

In both "last chance" and "rebellion", the secret society has a system put in place to keep the stand users hidden, and hamon users are advised to not use their abilities unless necessary, and not to do it in public, as even other people can betray them.

Servitude: APMW.S: the complete hopelessness AU, no one can save humanity, all hamon users are dead, and stand users got found out in some point, leading them to be hunted by the pillarmen goons and to develop tools to tell if a child is a stand user from birth or not, and if a person developed an ability down the line, and if found out they'll be killed. Humanity is over, and it's time for the pillarmen rule.

This AU can be used for world building asks/comments etcetera, it's not really limited for x readers (most of anything I'll do won't be only for one use as I want to have maximum fun and freedom) You can use it for world building in a fic, as long as there is credit.

Also yandere asks are allowed.

I'll make a separate post for how Darling can present in this AU ( I have….many ideas to say the least).

#jojo no kimyou na bouken #yandere jojo #jjba #jojo x reader #yandere jojo x reader #APMW #APMW.S #APMW.R #APMW.LC #jojo's bizarre adventure #Jojo part 2 #Pillarmen #jjba kars #lisa lisa #caesar zeppeli #battle tendency #jjba part 2 #joseph joestar #jjba wamuu #jjba esidisi #Jjba santana

[regina-del-cielo]

Fic 20 questions

I was tagged by @bewires, thank you!

1 - How many works do you have on AO3?

13, lucky number.

2 - What's your total AO3 count?

67,881 words. Not bad.

3 - What fandoms do you write for?

Right now, only for The Old Guard (2020). I'm a "one hyperfixation at a time" type of person.

4 - What are your top five fics by kudos?

Celebrated for Their Frankness (P&P)

Kissing a Stranger (P&P)

Galeotto Fu'l Cane (P&P)

hand in hand, we stumble and we fall (then we stand, once and for all) (TOG)

seems like happiness is just a thing called Joe (TOG)

5 - Do you respond to comments?

99.9% of the time, yes, even if it's just to write "thank you for reading" thirty times in a row

6 - What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uuuuuh I don't actually write angsty endings? Even the sadder ones always have a vision of hope in the end

7 - What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Again, difficult to say. Probably c'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui (dans la vie) because it's Reunion and Fluff Galore. Or A Marriage of True Minds, because of Wedding Fluff and Feelings.

8 - Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully not, and I hope it never happens

9 - Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No, not really. Love reading it, but I don't think I'll go that far myself.

10 - Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

No I don't. The thought never really crossed my mind

11 - Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Never, thank goodness

12 - Have you ever had a fic translated?

No - although one could say that I already am doing my own mental translation since English is not my first language lol - but if someone wanted to I wouldn't mind, as long as they asked me first

13 - Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, never happened

14 - What's your all time favourite ship?

Why are you asking me to rank my children?! Darcy/Elizabeth has been around longer, but Joe/Nicky really Hit Different. So I say it's a tie.

15 - What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

All of them? There's a reason I don't post WIPs - inspiration is flighty and cruel. I never say 'never', but knowing myself if I haven't worked on something for longer than a year it's unlikely I'll ever start again

16 - What are your writing strengths?

I'm the wrong person to ask this - Maybe plot coherency and world building? I tend to take a lot of time to make sure that the plot flows well and that things are as accurate I can get them. Also, clearly, writing soft and fluffy things.

17 - What are your writing weaknesses?

I always have the feeling of my writing being clunky and too detail-filled, because I want the readers to see the scene as I see it in my mind. And I've never been able to stay within the number of words I expected to - my one-shots get stupidly long.

18 - Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I literally make Nicky speak in Italian as much as I can get away with it all the time. But also, if it's a language you don't know well and unless you have a human who speaks it that can check it, I wouldn't just trust a translation software. I have seen enough of glaring Italian errors in fic to make me want to go "please just say that they spoke in another language in the dialogue tag I beg of you."

19 - First fandom you wrote for?

Winx Club, a long long time ago, and not in English

20 - Favourite fic you've written?

I think it's a tie between hand in hand and We're Meant to Find Each Other - they're more team-focused than the others; hand in hand was the first I wrote for TOG fandom and a true stroke of inspiration. Meant to Find Each Other is the only multi-chaptered fic I ever managed to finish, it spans through multiple time periods, and the AU it's set in is very close to my heart.

I don't know who has already done this, but I'll tag @ellynneversweet @raedear @gallifreyburning @nicolos @nicolodigenovas and anyone else who feels like it!

#tag game #writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction