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unproduciblesmackdown · 9 months

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already was musing on how like, here's an intro that's Establishing Things, and it's like, does it matter that we were given a quants interaction of winston being like "hey you were nice to me there, actually. it reminds me of how" only for rian to pull the nice maneuvers of not wanting to listen to him share anything, being willing to just issue an order to someone about what he gets to do (talk for ten seconds) and doing so, then some underwhelming flair used to insult him surely, i guess that he's so stupid(tm) or whatever. like, wondering does that mean anything really that that was just about rian being an asshole, as has been sprinkled in before, just little moments that deadend with winston just feeling Disheartened b/c rian was shitty for no reason. does it mean anything that she did anything for the quant duo before that in refusing a chance to not sit next to him. theoretically just a [we're still tmc] kind of choice to stick together, and sure didn't move her to even treat him like a person she dislikes, just a nonperson she also dislikes

and relatedly it's going to be just as hilarious as rian, what, implying winston hasn't heard / of the french language, that the theory that rian and dollar bill become some kind of duo based on being Hilarious(tm) but also just terrible to any & everyone and bullying people has only more plausible, And that this episode of billions' introduction / establishment of dollar bill is decidedly centered around "yeah nobody likes this guy or can stand to deal with him. not even the people paid to be there, not even the self-declared Too Nice guy who kept choosing hanging out with dollar bill & his bullying over working & hanging out with his friend taylor" so it sure doesn't seem like that's leaving much room for [oh that was an oversight] if dollar bills going to fuck off into mpc hq on the regular and rian's immediately going to be like of course i can roll with this fuckin asshole

and truly a distillation of "rian's supposedly gets the 'good' treatment of More Material & being taken more seriously by other characters, but this only meant that instead of any sense of character &/or her own actual subplots ever, she's whatever a different more prominent character needs for their plot at any given time; winston's peripheral funny little guy unimportance & insulting treatment is still so much better re: being a character" if winston gets the worst treatment of being shoved out of mpc by episode three and rian is graced with hanging around most or all season only to be judged & condemned to now have that loss of [quant duo] replaced with being insufferable bullying horrible person dollar bill's New Friend and like, right away, with ease. and like i was saying like i would not argue with that, if rian had the consistent principle of treating anyone with basic respect she wouldn't be treating winston as a nonperson, and of course she has a broader capacity for being an asshole to anyone at any point that's just drier and less [outbursts of physical aggression] than dollar bill's style.

no idea what rian's overall arcs could be when yknow, why is she here, why has she stayed here, her most relevance right now gets to be "has the dialogue capacity to talk about getting prince with a sex scandal. also has zero thoughts on how power factors into one rather than that you just need to be polite about it?" which only feels truly character specific when held up against "rian was supposedly bullied but also Above even hating the people who did it. but she is also a bully and not even especially emotionally detached about it, even though how she treats winston is more important than how she feels about it" like basically "also a bully" is her most coherent deal. and it's just Interesting that simply being mean to winston is again basically pointed out, and her future bestie or [put in the same shots duo status] dollar bill is Impending but the episode was like "yeah of course everyone hates this guy, for being awful" and the joke nonjoke the whole time that unfortunately rian might get along just fine with bill as workplace (and probably also life in general, it's not a honed strategy they limit to the office) bullies

so that That's what rian gets for getting to stick around, while winston Might get to be shoved out of the fund hq with any character flair from him and, i do unfortunately have to wonder harder now, maybe any relevance afforded to the way people have treated him, indeed maybe rian especially, his personal bully and abusive friend. and because other people also see rian as better than him & maybe also winston as [not a person], if winston does anything that's indeed deliberately petty, mean, Angry, etc, towards rian, That will be seen as unacceptable vs the yknow checks notes years of cruel interpersonal treatment from rian to winston, but nothing hangs in the balance on that front, people won't suddenly be like "nice. winston's a person to me now, which, why am i even in a position to Decide that" if he's shoved out & goes quietly & politely and creates no problems in return. and, very much like dollar bill, i don't think rian will change, but for winston's own sake it would be Heartening if he voices his experience such that we know he knows it was bullshit, even though of course rian, and probably anyone else, isn't going to choose to listen past 5 seconds, least of all when he's clearly indicating a general state of irritation. rooting for flair and idiosyncrasy for him and indeed that the best sources for that could be with taylor, please, the person he's always been here for, rian, the person for years now bullying him more than she does anyone else or more than anyone else does to winston, and even fun if there's anything with tuk his apparent genuine friend tuk, and by "fun" i mean "such a delight i daren't really think much abt it From Canon"

anyways the tl;dr i suppose is that winston getting apparently thrown away in the first third of the season is insulting treatment but rian getting to stay and be dollar bill's wretched bestie is truly the worse fate and basically that distillation of like. oh winston's bringing it on himself he's so annoying nobody likes him, while in actuality all the ways he's never fit in or done things "right" and how he would never have been hired if taylor hadn't done it are all compliments and endorsements. while rian's been viewed as a capable valuable person by all from the start and treated as Better Than even others who are still also seen people, but her "success" and the shit she gets to continue to do in how she treats people b/c nothing about being at work stops that and some things facilitate & reward it, see: also dollar bill being around the whole time & now also back, definitely include treating a friendly coworker any which way, which she usually chooses to be: badly. and of course shoutout to the thread of taylor being like "if you stay btw you'll probably get all fucked up" but like also rian just Brought the [i'm a bully but it's fine when i do it. it's bad when it happens to Me] stance from the start, but like, obviously always the opportunity to get worse and just be left off with that implication of Never Trying To Learn, just like your new good friend dollar bill

real tl;dr As Fates Go winston being shitted on & fired / driven to quit >>>>>>>> rian sticking around, befriending dollar bill. and like not in the way i'm arguing that the fate is worse like In Conceptual Quality. it's just a hell of a potential condemnation / indirect illustration of like, here's this person it's horrible to be around, here's a reminder rian is cruel to this coworker on a dime anytime, here's rian deciding the horrible person is Alright anyways. maybe they'll be busy with a bullying power struggle the whole time. and maybe winston will get to appear outside the fund actually. just really something to be going like "oh my god lmao rian and dollar bill might actually be specifically getting along well as fellow [be horrible to coworkers] bullies and assholes who feel Above It, it being many other people, this being a kind of requirement there" and to be wondering if billions will make this fact that rian's job is being an asshole more relevant at all, if even to be like yeah leaving off with a lost cause here, including that i really doubt winston can Get Through To her even with his ability & willingness to air his grievances, and like, as though oh actually winston brought it upon himself b/c rian just didn't knowww, that's on him and his visible pain & verbal expressions of that pain & requests that she stop which Weren't Enough, and as though maintaining that onesided dynamic for bullying and demeaning and shutting down and abusing was like an unconscious accidental coincidence every time and not its own Active Process, regardless of what the other person does or doesn't do, and with the agenda of maintaining that [i'm the person who chooses how things go; they're the object that reacts accordingly like it's laws of physics level of demands of reality] one-sided relationship, so they'd only just be looking to react to what that other person does or doesn't do in ways that serve those purposes anyway. sometimes rian's "nicer" but she's still the one deciding how everything goes, winston can only roll with it like a ball at the top of a ramp like, of course, unquestionable. cue space winston, zero gravity

haha another tl;dr. winston being disposed of is a warmer Fate to assign a character than rian's potential "of course she's friends with dollar bill now" like lmfao Ouch. but yeah of course.

#one wrench in things is no idea if [winston :/ing at rian hugging taylor out in the open] will play into anything #didn't seem to affect him now and if it was absolute Need To Know we might've been reminded. but it's billions; no guarantees #and similarly; whatever bullshit gets him shoved out &/or leaving on his own is bound to be unguessable #already dealing with tmc problems; being on on the floor; not much taylor time; though their being Away is new / unknown #winston billions #rian could've at least been nonbinary. but they can't be like no NO rian is not [still Questioning] [and in part thus still closeted too]#winston quant billions sees his new nonbinary person he wants to impress & will be penciling in [swoon about it] immediately #at least with taylor he's just largely had to deal with that distance / lack of access already in general #re: rian it's like yeah here's your new devoted bully to sit next to you who Doesn't actually want you to Never talk to her #b/c he has to have hopes to be dashed & speak up to be made to shut up & be more Available in general than if he Avoided her in general #iconic to take your autistic bestie's interest & hang out to engage w/them abt it until you lash out at them over it for chatting abt it #[rian calls winston a slur] is truly there in spirit even if it doesn't manifest #or that the difference in her & dollar bill is in just variations in affect & specific strategies. not in spirit #like she might do the office: you don't call [rworded] ppl [rwords]. it's bad taste. you call your friends [''s] when they're acting [''ed]#but that's also in a world where it's an episode abt everyone hatecriming winston for being himself Out as autistic #and idk if rian would refer to winston as a friend. she would if it kept him strung along with that hope on his end anyways but #5x05 through 5x07 riawin really had so much potential but it's being realized in taylip #and itself became ''yeah rian could get along fine with dollar bill'' b/c she won't regard winston as a person #true of many other people but they want to ignore him most of the time vs use him as a chew toy so

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whoa-where-did-the-pancakes-go · 3 months

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I HATE MY FUUCKIUNING BRAIN SHUTUP

#STUPID IMAGINATION #the saw trailer and one episode of dw i watched decided obviously i should dream about like #being trapped in some sort of fucking i dont even know in the house i used to live in that ended with time travel and #me murdering several people and like poking their guts and stuff #k maybe i watched the silent hill dnp video alone in the basement too but thats unrelated #also that dream was really bad and i hate the way my brain takes everything and squishes it together #anyway i need a hug but of course everyone i care about lives A BILLION FUCKING MILES AWAY #im gonna write soooooo much fanfic after this #its a coping mechanism i guess #left a lot of stuff out of that dream but it was. bad #anyway #i have to go to school #[insert cool original post tag]#one of my favorite people ever was there though so that was nice. during the start where it was all fun and cool hanging around in space #i think i was rose during that part for some reason #he was telling me to find puzzle pieces that were also active parts of my dream. it got dark quickly #you guys dont wanna hear about this #nevermind

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rynbutt · 16 days

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mansplaining. | spencer reid.

request: @a-second-hand-sorrow "hey queen, just wanted to say i absolutely love your spencer stuff, you write him so well!! as a fellow aussie I was wondering if maybe you could write something with spencer and an australian reader? just something cute and silly, maybe with him infodumping everything he knows about australia ahaha, love your work!"

you can find my other fics on my masterlist.

requests are open!

cw: fem!aus!reader, none really, fluffy, silly fr

a/n: short and sweet hehe

Henry held your hand tight as you guided him to the elevator.

JJ had just gotten back from a trip to Michigan for a case. She ended up sleeping for a couple hours before she had to go back into work again, all before little Henry woke up for the day. Since she hadn’t seen her son in almost three weeks, you thought it would be nice to bring Henry to her with some lunch as a surprise.

You had been JJ and Will’s nanny for almost 8 months now. Since Will had returned to work and JJ’s job was still incredibly demanding, they started looking for a nanny for their 3-year-old son. You just so happened to be looking for a job and to finally put your experience as a nursery assistant back home to good use.

“You excited to see mummy?” You asked Henry as you stood in the elevator, his little FBI visitor badge far too big on his little body.

“Yeah!” He replied excitedly, jumping up and down while still holding your hand. You had taken Henry to pick up some lunch at JJ’s favourite place then let Henry pick out a pastry for each of you to have for dessert.

“Alright, remember, you have to hold on tight to my hand, okay? There are lots of people around,” you reminded the young boy, crouching down to his level.

“Uh huh,” Henry nodded, his tiny hand squeezing yours.

The elevator dinged and you gently guided Henry toward the bullpen, silently searching for JJ’s office. Henry stayed close to you as you swerved through the busy agents. You decided to ask someone who you thought looked vaguely familiar.

“Uh, Emily, right?” You gestured toward the dark haired woman sitting at her desk.

She glanced up at you, seeming to recognise you and little Henry almost instantly, “Oh hey! You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yeah, I was just wondering if you could point me in the direction of JJ’s office-”

“Did you know the Australian mainland extends from west to east for nearly 2,500 miles?” someone behind you said, obviously hearing your Australian accent.

Emily rolled her eyes and looked at you, “don’t mind, Reid.”

You turned around to look at ‘Reid’, he was cute, probably the young doctor JJ told you about. You pointed at him, “Dr. Spencer Reid, right?”

He ignored you, “And most of the rocks forming the foundation of Australia are from the Precambrian and Paleozoic time… about 4.6 billion and 252 million years ago respectively,” he looked up at you, “yes, I’m Dr. Reid.”

“Mm,” you hummed.

“I’ll go get JJ for you,” Emily sighed, frowning disapprovingly at Reid. You sat down next to Emily’s desk, picking up Henry to sit him in your lap.

“Where are you from?” Another man asked, “I’m Derek Morgan, you must be Henry’s nanny?”

“Yeah, I am… I’m from Melbourne,” you smiled.

Spencer interjected, “Melbourne isn’t said like that. The spelling negates that.”

“Kid… she’s from there, I think she knows how it’s said,” Morgan retorted.

You just chuckled softly, “I’d love to hear you mansplain my country to me, Dr. Reid.”

“I’m not mansplaining,” Spencer replied, seeming offended.

“You kind of are,” Morgan added, leaning back in his chair.

“Mansplaining!” Henry exclaimed, making both you and Morgan laugh. Henry bolted from your lap the moment he saw his mum. You stood up to greet JJ as little Henry tackled her in a hug.

“What are you guys doing here?” JJ asked, cuddling Henry close to her.

“We thought we would surprise you for lunch,” you smiled, “Henry picked some pastries out for us too, for dessert… I hope it’s okay?”

“No, it’s perfect,” JJ replied, “it’s just what I needed honestly,” she sighed, giving you a side hug as she guided you to her office.

Henry sat on the floor playing with a few toys you brought along for him while you and JJ talked, “so, that Dr. Reid? He’s a character.”

“You met him, huh?” she leans back in her chair with a laugh.

“Oh yeah,” you replied, “he seems…” you trailed off.

JJ nodded knowingly, “Yeah, he’s like that.”

“He’s cute though,” you shrugged with a small laugh.

“Mm, I’ll make sure to tell him that,” JJ teased.

“Don’t you dare,” you retorted quickly.

You spent the last half an hour of JJ’s break sitting with her and Henry on the floor helping him do a puzzle he had left from the last time he was here. It was nice for JJ to see her son, she missed him terribly but she knew he was in good hands with you.

JJ had to get back to work shortly after and she squeezed Henry in a tight hug, reminding you she might be late again tonight, which you didn’t mind.

“Say ‘bye-bye’, mummy!” You held Henry’s hand, waving at JJ.

“Bye-bye, mommy!” Henry called, waving his little hand around.

You spun around, guiding Henry through the bullpen again before an idea popped into your head. You turned on your heel at the side of Spencer’s desk.

“Hey, Dr. Reid?” You asked softly.

“Yes?” He peered up at you.

“Ever heard of drop bears?”

a/n: i hope you liked it! i know it was a short one but i think it's funny. another chapter of pierced coming soon >:)

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #x reader #spencer reid fluff #cm spencer #dr reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #australian reader #spencer

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ghost-with-a-teacup · 10 months

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Okay okay, hear me out.

A bantery sort of annoying best friend trope with Miguel O'Hara. Like, hes stubborn, but reader is just as stubborn and hard headed. So like, on a mission Miguel is like "Why werent you paying attention?" and SpiderPerson!Reader is like "You're a very distracting man." And then like, the classic upside down Spiderman kiss. Apologies if this is a mess, the brainrot is real.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: None, just some good ol' fluff paired alongside some classic best friends to lovers. You know the dealio :3

It wasn’t easy being best friends with Miguel O’Hara.

He was stubborn, stoic, annoying, always thought he was right, and incredibly grumpy (almost all the time! It must be exhausting) amongst many other things. But all those things made him who he was, alongside the kindness and care he has for everyone, hidden behind that Spider-Society leader guise.

It wasn’t easy, but he was your best friend just as you were his. Your favourite person amongst the millions of people on this planet, and the billions upon trillions of people in the multiverse.

But it was even more difficult when you had the biggest raging crush on him. You felt like a little teenager, lost in the vastness of your own heart that quickly grew more and more fond of the person you loved with each day that passed.

Your feelings made you act silly and lovesick (and you knew damn well he noticed, he just never said anything about it), but they weren’t going anywhere for the time being so here they stayed.

They weren’t too great during missions though.

“Hey, Miguel~,” you say, sidling up to him with a stupid grin on your face. He stops you with a palm on your face, not allowing you to get too close.

“Ugh, what-?” he says, pulling his hand back in disgust. “Did you just lick me?!”

“Don’t put your hand in front of my face then, you should know by now the consequences of that,” you say with a tsk, before bursting into laughter at his expression.

“Unfortunately,” he sighs, rubbing it onto your suit. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?” you say, pretending to be confused.

“What do you mean what- The mission? Are you ready for the mission we’re supposed to be going on in the next minute,” he huffs incredulously.

“Obviously, Miguel,” you snort. “How long have we been doing this job? Have you so little faith in me?” you ask.

“Yes,” he deadpans, and you gasp.

“How dare you?” you say, pressing a hand to your chest in offence.

“You are the most dramatic person I know,” he says, glancing over toward you as he programs the watch to the universe you were both headed to.

“You love me,” you say in turn.

“Unfortunately,” he says, and you grin widely.

“Awwww, Miguel~,” you say, pulling him into a hug that he hesitantly returns (though you knew he loved hugs, he would just rather die than admit it).

“Alright, alright,” he says pulling away. “Focus up, we need to be on our A-game for this guy.”

“Aye, aye, captain! Lead the way,” you say, and he rolls his eyes but can’t quite conceal the smile on his face at your antics before his mask reforms on his face.

Together you both make your way through the portal, getting transported past thousands of worlds in mere seconds before arriving at the one with the anomaly.

“Oh, cool~,” you say with a childlike wonder. Around you is a world that looked like it came straight out of a painting, everything looking almost acrylic in nature and beauty.

“You saw this in the briefing,” he says to you but looks around himself with a sort of wonder.

“A picture on a screen is entirely different from seeing something like this in real life, Miguel,” you retort, still looking around in awe. Looking down at your own form, your costume was blended in splotches of your iconic colours, like you had walked right out of a portrait.

He doesn’t say anything to that, instead patting your head once before walking away toward the mission site.

“C’mon. The faster we finish up, the sooner we can head back. We can have a movie night back at my place, yeah?” he says, and you perk up immediately before running after him.

“That sounds perfect, ‘cause I baked too many cookies that I don’t know what to do with,” you say embarrassed, knowing full well that you had baked them for him. He always did love your baking.

You notice the side of his mask shifts upward slightly, a telltale sign that he was happy even with the mask concealing most of his expressions but you don’t say anything, only smiling softly to yourself.

“Lyla, do a full sweep of the building before we head in. I don’t want any surprises,” he calls out, and the AI pops up immediately.

“Ugh, so bossy,” she says, and you snort.

“You could say that again,” you say in turn, while Miguel only sighs.

“Are you two done insulting me yet?” he says, and you turn to face him, walking backwards as you do.

“Never!” you say, before you’re snatched off of the ground with a yelp. He calls out your name, immediately swinging in after you.

“NOT COOL DUDE,” you shout to the villain who had his tentacles wrapped around your waist, dangling you upside down as she stuck to the ceiling. “Shouldn’t you be in the sea, doing…whatever octopuses do?”

“This seems a lot more fun,” the villain says, her voice a gurgling sort of low tone that sounds much more ominous than it should.

You shoot your webs out onto the ceiling, trying to pull yourself up and out of her grasp to no avail, her hold too strong.

Bit by bit her hold continued to tighten, inhibiting your ability to breathe.

“H-hey, we can talk about this right?” you gasp out, but before you know it Miguel was flying up toward you.

He looked so serious and intent on getting you out, his muscles flexing as he held on to his webbing.

Quite frankly, it was hot.

So hot that you failed to notice that Miguel had smacked you out of the villain’s grasp, expecting you to swing yourself out. Instead, you fall to the floor with a thud and a loud groan. It wasn’t a far fall, and all your limbs were still intact but the wind that was already limited in your lungs was smacked out of you, and the ground was definitely going to leave a bruise.

“FOCUS!” he shouts to you, sending another punch to the villain’s face to knock her off balance. That luckily snaps you out of your reverie as you stand back onto your feet, swinging up to help him out.

You use your webbing to pull the tentacles off of the wall, meanwhile, Miguel acts as a distraction so she can’t focus on the fact that she’s being brought down to the ground where a trap lay for her to land in.

Bit by bit more tentacles become loose, and with one last hit from Miguel she falls to the floor with a scream, the force field raising around her immediately.

“You won’t get away with this!” she says angrily, but you only smirk, swinging down to her level.

“Doesn’t seem like there’s much you can do in this position, can you? Don’t worry, we won’t keep you for long. You’ll be back in your universe in no time~” you say, opening up a portal straight into the holding room for the other anomalies and pushing her in.

“Bye!” you say simply before the portal closes, taking her with it.

Then, the building is quiet, and you wince as you feel Miguel’s imposing aura behind you. Grasping your shoulder, he whirls you around as he looks at you exasperatedly.

"Why the hell weren’t you paying attention?" he asks you, arms moving animatedly as they usually do.

“In my defence…you didn’t notice her coming either,” you say.

“That’s not an excuse! You have your Spidey-sense, you have an instinct that tells you when you’re in danger,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And that fall, what was that? You saw me coming, why are you so distracted today?” he says with a sigh.

“Well, you’re a very distracting man,” you mumble, and his eyes widen slightly under his mask before it dissipates, leaving only his handsome face behind. You pull off your mask in turn, only staring into his eyes.

He stares back before sighing.

“Are you hurt?” he says, his eyes running over your body scanning for any injuries.

“I’ve taken worse hits than that, you know,” you say in turn, your face heating up slightly.

“An injury is an injury regardless of how bad it is,” he says, walking around you to make sure nothing is out of place.

“Jeez, you should take your own advice Mr. ‘I don’t need to go to the infirmary ever’” you huff.

“That’s different,” he retorts.

“It’s really not.”

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m not gonna argue with you right now,” he rolls his eyes.

“Oh c’mon, you know that’s your favourite pastime,” you smirk.

“It’s not.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, it is.”

“I only tell the truth, it’s not.”

“You say that, but here you are arguing with me again,” you grin, and he groans.

“Regardless, you did good today,” he says after a moment.

“I always do good, what do you mean,” and he looks at you incredulously.

“Can you just allow me to compliment you?”

You just shrug.

“Ehhhh, I struggle to accept compliments because deep down I’m incredibly insecure and can’t make myself believe that I can do well, let alone have other people think that so…yeah!”

“…we’ll talk about this later,” he says, patting your shoulder (the tiniest bit awkwardly, which made you almost laugh considering how long you two have known each other).

“So, since you think I ‘did good’ today, what’s my reward?” you ask expectantly, the corner of your mouth quirked up. He hums for a moment before slinging his webs onto the ceiling, swinging himself up so that he hung upside-down.

“C’mere,” he says, and you look at him confused.

“What on Earth are you doing?” you say.

“Can you just listen to me for once and come here?” he says exasperatedly, so you relent and walk so you’re about a foot away from him.

“Closer,” he says, and you step closer hesitantly, the proximity making you nervous. He only huffs, reaching out to grasp onto your arm so you’re standing face to face.

The hand on your arm reaches up, softly placing itself on your cheek as you let out a little gasp. His eyes bore into yours, and you get lost in the swirling crimson and gold.

“Is this alright?” he says softly, his breath fanning across your face. You felt your heartbeat pick up as the warmth of his hand pressed into your cheek gently. You can’t do anything but nod.

His lips press into yours, slightly chapped but soft as he kissed you softly.

You had never felt anything so right.

“What was that for?” you whisper as he pulls away after a few seconds that felt like an eternity condensed into a single moment.

He snorts softly before swinging back onto his feet, pulling you into his chest with a hug.

“I know you have feelings for me,” he says, and your body tenses for a moment at the blatant comment.

“I-” you start, but he interjects calmly.

“Hasn’t it been obvious that I have feelings for you too?” he asks as he pulls away, cupping your cheeks in both his hands.

“I, I thought it was just because I was your best friend,” you say as all those little moments you’ve had over the years play through your head. It makes him laugh softly, oh how you loved that laugh.

“You’re painfully oblivious sometimes, you know,” he says, but the fondness is evident in his voice.

“Can you kiss me again?” you ask, a tad bit flustered but you already missed the feeling of his lips on yours.

He smiles down at you before kissing you tenderly, fingers tangling through your hair as your hand rests on his chest, feeling his racing heart.

Finally, you felt complete.

“I didn’t know you were so soft,” you giggle as you return back to HQ.

“I am not soft,” he says almost offendedly, but the corner of his lip is quirked up the tiniest bit. “Though if I was, it would only be for you.”

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin, @ohworm-writes

A/N: Two updates in one day? That's wild, haha. Am I writing this because I saw this prompt and I myself am in love with my best friend? Absolutely, but hey! Coping mechanisms, am I right :)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader

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luveline · 7 months

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hi sweetie !!! I know you get a billion requests but if u have time maybe an eddie fluff with the reader trying to get out of a postpartum depression slump and hes taking care of her :3 as always no pressure ily!

hi lovely ily, ty for requesting ♡ 1.2k

cw reader has postpartum depression

"Aw, sweetheart," Eddie mumbles.

You hear it through your tired haze, rubbing sleep from your eyes as your turn toward him and his shuffling. He's unexpectedly on the bedroom floor, the baby laid out on a changing matt. Your lips quirk into a smile as you watch him button a fresh baby grow closed around your son's tiny tummy.

"You're so well behaved," Eddie continues, still mumbling, hand careful as it slides behind the baby's head. "There we go. Fresh as a daisy."

You clear your throat and stretch against a cruel knot hiding between shoulder blades. "You okay?" you ask.

Eddie looks at you like you've just asked him to marry you, love lining every feature. "I'm okay, are you okay? You were frowning in your sleep. Bad dreams?"

"I can't remember." You try not to lose your small smile as you hold out your hands for the baby.

You love your baby. That's not up for debate. But whenever you hold him, you feel like you should be happier. That turns to guilt, self-loathing —this has all been so hard. You knew it would be, but it doesn't matter how prepared you are. This is brain chemistry you can't fight.

Eddie sits on the side of the bed and passes the baby to you carefully. You're relieved to find you missed him, tucking him with love against your chest. "Hi, beautiful. Hi."

He's still so small, shiny with newness, his lips parted to show the pink of his tongue. You laugh under your breath, brushing the side of your hand along his cheek.

"Did you, um… did you put the ointment on his rash?" you ask, leaning down to kiss the baby's forehead. "On his tummy?"

"Yeah, I did."

You nod and kiss the baby's head again quickly. "Okay, perfect. Will you take him back? Just so I can get up?"

You have to start the day to avoid falling hard into the slump. Eddie takes him with no qualms. You worry he's held more by his father than you, and there's nothing wrong with that, but he's your baby, you just spent nine months baking him, nine whole months waiting for these moments.

Eddie hugs the baby to his chest and pulls the sheets over both of them. He looks better kept than you even though he's been picking up your slack without complaint, hair clean and out of his face, fresh clothes to match the baby, a black Iron Maiden t-shirt unmarred by spit up and a pair of pyjamas pants you're pretty sure were yours once upon a time. They don't fit him right and he clearly doesn't care. He's good like that; he's obsessed with being close to you.

Your depression postpartum has wedged him away. Not his fault, not yours, and not fair. You're gonna have to try as hard as you can to beat it, and hope against hope that it's enough.

"I set some clothes out for you," Eddie says gently, stroking the baby's hair. "And a towel if you want to shower, but you don't need to. You should be okay until tonight."

"You didn't have to," you say. Your throat feels peculiarly tight.

"Yeah, I did. I know it's overwhelming in the morning for you. I thought the clothes would be one less thing."

You nod hurriedly and turn away from him to change. You can feel his gaze as you step out of your pyjamas and into new sweatpants, the weight of his concern palpable. It's easier to talk about things when you aren't looking at them both, so you say, "I'm sorry you're doing all of this."

"That's okay, it's not something you need to be sorry for."

"No, because it's not fair. You're looking after two people."

"That's what I signed up for. It's literally my job." You seize at the sound of the baby gurgling and whimpering, but Eddie pats his back, and the grizzling fades. "Sweetheart… would you come over here? Let me tell you to your face."

That doesn't exactly inspire confidence, but you pull on the clean shirt Eddie's left on the dresser for you and sit with him as he asked. Only when he smiles at your chest do you realise it's the stupid gimmick shirt he got for you on your first anniversary. My boyfriend loves me more than yours does, it reads, big black font with a red heart behind boyfriend.

Eddie holds out his hand, squeezing your fingers together slowly, as though he's collected them in his palm. His thumb rubs a dedicated line over your knuckles; you're surprised your skin doesn't show evidence of his touch, he strokes this path so often.

"I'm not sorry that I've been taking care of you since he was born, and you shouldn't be either." He says it straight and fast, no hesitation, and no room for argument. "Understand? This isn't about me. This is about how you feel."

"Don't be all serious with me," you plead in a murmur, eyes at his collar.

"If you don't want me to be serious then I won't be. Regular viewing henceforth. But don't forget what I just said. Promise?"

"Yeah, promise." You reach out to twist the baby's hair around your fingertip, smiling when he shivers, tickled by your touch. He's a beautiful kid. Your partner stamped him well. All your awful feelings aren't anything to do with him, though his birth was undoubtedly the tipping point. He hasn't done anything wrong, this fog of melancholy hangs around no matter how beautiful he is, and you can't help hating yourself for the way you feel. "He's perfect," you whisper, eyes aching with the want to cry.

"You did a great job," Eddie says agreeably, pushing his fingers between yours to intertwine your hands.

"Do you think he knows I really do love him?" You can barely hear yourself. It's a miracle that Eddie can respond.

"Undeniably. Sweetheart, I know there have been days where you didn't hold him, and that's not good for either of you, I can't lie to you and tell you it doesn't affect him, but it's not your fault. It just isn't. You're gonna keep trying and I'm gonna keep making sure you can, and things will get better. I swear to you."

You feel as though you'd happily fall into a pit, but with Eddie sworn to take care of you, and the world's prettiest baby in his arms, you force yourself to sit beside him in bed. It's easy to soak in the heat of him as he wraps and arm around you, and easier to take the baby from his arms when the crying begins.

"Don't feel guilty, but he misses you," Eddie says, covering your hand where it holds the baby's back. "He's happy to see you, look."

The baby looks like a baby. It's hard to say that he's smiling, but there is something there. Love in his little eyes. You manage to smile for real this time, toying with his tiny hand, swiftly on your way to joyous as he wraps his fingers around your index.

"You're doing so well," Eddie praises, his hair brushing your ear as he ducks in to kiss your cheek.

"I think I'm feeling a bit better."

"Good. One step closer to taking over the world."

Eddie climbs out of bed with a mission to gather your meds and a quick breakfast. You stay in bed with the baby, holding him. Eddie's made it so that it's the only thing you have to do.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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holdmytesseract · 1 year

Note

If you are seeking soon to be dad Daryl, what about a fic where Y/n gets pregnant but she's scared to tell Daryl because what happened to Lori? Maybe she is finally able to tell him when they get reunited after the prison falls and by then she's already showing? Idk I know it says requests are closed but I saw your post!

Blessing in Disguise

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: After discovering that you are pregnant, you don't know what to do; being utterly afraid after what happened to Lori. You don't even have the chance to tell it your boyfriend, Daryl, because after the prison fell, you and Daryl get separated. Can you find him again and finally be brave enough to tell him?

Warnings: the usual TWD stuff, walkers, weapons, angst, mentions of birth and pregnancy, fluff!

Set in Season 4/5!

Word Count: 4,6k (Whopsies...)

a/n: I promised y'all a new Daryl fic and here it is! ☺️ Thank you for this wonderful request @starfirette ! ☺️ I loved, loved, loved to write this! 🥰 I hope you like it. ☺️ I changed the timeline a little bit - and I uh, may have ignored the existence of Mika and Lizzie, because I somehow struggled a lot to write them. I hope that's okay. 🙈

Tagging: @in-this-minute @thefemininemystiquee @hotgirlsshareaccounts @azanoni @lokisgoodgirl @goobysgoobers @fuseburner @fictive-sl0th @alexreadz07 @sweetpeapod

Masterlist

Biting your lip nervously, you watched your friend from afar, loading stuff in a car. He was alone, so your only opportunity to ask was probably now - or never. Taking a deep breath, you bit the bullet and walked over to him. "Hey, uh, Glenn?" The black-haired man turned to face you. "Oh, hey Y/N. What's up?" He asked you, smiling. "Can... Can you please get me something from the drugstore you're going to?" "Sure thing, no problem. What is it?" You bit your lip again; shaky fingers handed over a small piece of paper. Glenn took it and slowly unfolded it. His gaze scanned the written words, eyes widening. "Y-Y/N this... This is-" "I know, Glenn, I know. Please, keep this to yourself, okay?" "Of course, but... You know that everyone says I'm bad at keeping secrets?" You sighed, rubbing the heels of your hands in your eyes. "Yes, but you're my best friend. I trust you." The Korean nodded, "You got a point there..." and stuffed the note inside his jeans pocket. "Don't forget it, please." "I won't, promise."

You spent the time walking from one place to the next. Your mind was restless, and so was your body. A billion 'What if...' questions were running through your head on lighting speed. It felt like your skull was going to burst any second. The wait for Glenn to return was almost unbearable. "Y/N? You alright?" Maggie's voice cut through the loud noises in your head. Blinking, you stopped in your motions; looking up to face her. "Y-Yeah, of course." The woman looked at you quite a bit sceptically. "Are you sure? You seem really... uneasy and nervous. Something wrong between you and Daryl?" You quickly shook your head at your friend's words. "No, no! Everything's perfectly fine! We're good. I'm good!" Maggie eyed you a second time doubtfully, "Alright." before she turned around to leave again. You breathed out relieved, closing your eyes. Gods... That was hell.

About two hours later, Glenn and a few Woodbury people came back from the run. Subtly, your best friend handed you the small bag. "You got it?" He nodded. "Yeah. Brought three different brands." You stared at the bag, taking it into your hands. "Thank you." "Of course." You gave Glenn a small smile, which he returned. "You can talk to me about... You know. I-I'm always here for you." "I know - and I appreciate it so much." Before the Korean could even answer, you had pulled him into a big hug.

Now you sat in the cell you shared with Daryl - who was on a hunt at the moment, on the bed, staring at the bag in your hands. You had to do it. You just had to. You needed to know. So, you grabbed all three packages and sneaked into the prison 'bathroom'. Taking the tests were easy. Waiting five minutes for them to show a result was excruciating. Once again you found yourself walking up and down the room, hoping for once time would pass faster. At some point you couldn't take it anymore. You had to look; waited clearly long enough. Closing your eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, you stepped over to one of the sinks - where you had placed all three tests, and taking a look at them. The first one. Positive. The second test. Positive. And the third result. Positive. "Fuck..." You were pregnant – without a doubt.

Shock wasn't the right word to describe your emotions right now. It wasn't really a shock, since you had the assumption; showing the typical signs for over a week now. Fear and panic were better words. In another world, you would've been happy. Having a baby with the man you loved was everything you ever wanted. Daryl was that man. The rotten, destroyed and dangerous world was a big problem, sure. Not just the walkers were a big threat. The disease, which roamed the prison had been a problem, but also other people out there. People like the Governor, for example. But now that you had the prison back and successfully defended your home against that psychopath, you weren't that concerned about the circumstances and surroundings. The prison was safe. What was a bigger problem and the cause for your main fear and panic, was what had happened only a few months ago... Judith's birth, and Lori's death. She died, birthing a child - and that was what gave you the chills. What if the same fate befell you? What if you were going to die as well, bringing yours and Daryl's baby into this world? Like Lori already once said… This wasn't a hospital. Sure, you had medical supplies - but not enough for a c-section or worse. If there would be complications, you were sure going to die - and you didn't want that. Despite that, it was already kinda hard enough to provide for one baby, but two? You didn't know. You really didn't know. What were you going to do now?

Driven by the panic coursing through your system, you went on search for Glenn. You needed to talk - and your best friend was your safe haven right now. Telling Daryl wasn't an option. Not just because he wasn't here at the moment anyway - which had left you worried sick enough, but also because you just were too afraid. You didn't want to do this to him. If you were really going to die during childbirth, you would put even more weight on his shoulders. He already had to carry enough.

"Glenn?!" You shouted up the guard tower, knowing that he was on watch at the moment. Seconds later, the door sprung open and his head appeared. "Y/N?" He shouted back. "Can... Can I come up?" You choked out; the tears on the brink of falling. "Uh, sure!" Quickly, you made your way up the stairs and through the doors. "T-Thanks." "Sure thing. Did you take the- You did." Glenn said, turning to face you and noticing the tears in your eyes immediately. "Is it... positive?" You nodded. Glenn's eyes widened. "You are... pregnant?" Once again you nodded; having lost the ability to form words. Without another sentence, Glenn bridged the distance between you and him and hugged you close. A big hug - exactly what you needed right now.

The two of you just stood there for a while, embracing each other. The only thing which could be heard, were your quiet sobs of desperation.

"W-What am I doing now, Glenn?" He pulled back from the hug, looking at you a bit confused. "What, uh, do you mean?" You blinked, staring at your best friend. Was he serious right now? He didn't get it? "Glenn, I... I can't have that baby!" And again the black-haired man's eyes widened. "Wait, what? You want to...?" Shrugging your shoulders, more tears started to fall. "N-No, but... I'm afraid of being pregnant; of birthing that baby. You know what happened to Lori! What if this happens to me, too!" Glenn immediately shook his head. "It won't, Y/N. Judith's birth went wrong, because Hershel wasn't with her. Lori was at the wrong place on the wrong time, unfortunately. It won't happen to you." You scoffed, not seeing this as easy as him. "That may be true, but what if Hershel can't be with me as well, huh? For any reason? And nevertheless, this ain't a hospital... It's a goddamn prison." The Korean sighed, tried to reassure you further, but it was no use. "I'm going to take you to Hershel now." He said, grabbing gently your arm and pulling you with him. "W-Why?" "Because maybe he can reassure you; and especially prevent you from having a panic attack." You said nothing; knew that he was actually right, so you didn't protest.

Passing by a lot of familiar faces on the way - due to the people from Woodbury your group had taken in in the prison, Glenn brought you to the small infirmary, where he was surely working.

"Hershel?" Glenn called out, trespassing the big doors with you. "I'm here." You heard the elder man call out, before he stepped out of one of the cells turned hospital rooms. "Glenn, what can I- Oh, hello Y/N." Neither of you said a thing, causing Hershel to look confused at the both of you and get closer. "Is everything alright?" Glenn turned to face you, squeezing your shoulder gently. "I'll leave you to it." With those words and a smile, he disappeared through the doors again, leaving you alone with Hershel. "Are you not feeling well, dear?" "Y-Yes." What were you saying? "N-No, I-" Even more overwhelmed now, you took a deep breath, trying to get yourself together. Hershel could see how you struggled; that you were rattled and of course, that something was bothering you. "Come, Y/N, let's sit down." The older man gave you a soft smile and gestured for you to follow him. He guided you into an empty room, in which he told you to sit on the small bed. "I'll be right back." You nodded, still too shaken up to form words.

A few minutes later, Hershel came back with a water bottle, handing it over to you. "Drink." You nodded once again, twisted the cap open and took a few big sips. "Good. Now take a few deep breaths and tell me what's wrong - if you feel up to it." You did what Hershel instructed you to do; took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. You needed that. You didn't know it, but you needed that. "Thank you." The man nodded at you, giving you another small smile. "O-Okay, so... Um, I... I wasn't feeling that well for the last few days. Always tired, no matter how much I slept. Sometimes, I had a bit nausea and mood swings... A-And I had to pee more often." You paused for a moment, fiddling nervously with your hands. A look into Hershel's face told you that he already knew what you were trying to say. After all, he was a doctor, but he didn't interrupt you; let you speak on. "W-Well, I counted one and one together and... Glenn brought me three tests. I just took them and..." "They're positive?" You nodded, clenching your jaw in order to suppress the upcoming tears. "W-What do I do now, Hershel?" The older man reached his hand over to gently place it on yours. "Be happy about it. This is a gift. A wonder." You scoffed, controlled by your fear once again. "It wasn't a gift for Lori, was it?" Hershel sighed, knowing exactly what you meant. "What happened to Lori was an accident. It was the wrong place and the wrong situation." "That may be true, but what if I'm going to die, too? What if this baby decides to come in the wrong place and the wrong situation as well?" "That won't happen." "Why are you so sure of that? This just isn't a world to have children anymore." It was a back and forth and throwing arguments - until Hershel shook his head and gave your hand a squeeze. "Now listen to me, Y/N. I know very well that this must be not easy for you. I can understand; given what happened to Lori. But Lori had Carl through a c-section, so the chances were pretty high she needed to have Judith with a c-section as well. You on the other hand have very good chances for a natural birth." He said calmly, pausing for a moment to let his words sink in. "Despite, you are such a strong woman. You've got Daryl by your side. You've got all of us by your side. A safe place with the prison..." He gave you a smile. "We're going to make this."

Hershel's words managed to calm you down a bit and take away some of your anxiety - quite to your surprise. "Y-You think?" "Yes." You nodded and stayed quiet for a moment, before the next thought hit you. "B-But what if Daryl doesn't want this?" A low, hearty chuckle rumbled through the elder man's chest, causing you to look at him confused. "Y/N... That man would do anything for you and that baby. You know just like me how adamant he was to keep Judith alive and healthy. He was the first one who reacted, went immediately out on a run to get her formula. Daryl would never reject that baby, trust me. He is going to be a great father." He squeezed your hand again, giving you another smile, which you couldn't help but return. "Now let's get you checked up and make sure to start on the prenatal vitamins."

And for a short moment, everything was perfectly fine. Sure, you still had your doubts and fears, but the voices in your heads became quieter, due to Hershel. Unfortunately, your happy phase didn't last even three days. Suddenly everything turned sour, when Hershel and Michonne vanished, the Governor returned to take the prison by brutal force with the two missing people in tow as hostages, murdering Hershel in front of yours and everyone's eyes – and the fall of the prison in the end. It happened so fast. Within minutes, everything was heading south with walkers flooding the place and a war breaking loose. Suddenly everybody around you was crying and yelling, while you just tried to hold on to Daryl - but it was no use... In the end, you lost him, got separated from him and ended up with Tyreese, who had saved baby Judith - and who absolutely wasn't bad at all, but Tyreese wasn't Daryl. The prison was destroyed, your family split up, not knowing who survived and who didn't. Your boyfriend and still unbeknownst to him, father of your child was probably dead and you had absolutely nothing left. Within a blink of an eye, you had a mess on your hands.

"We have to go back!" You shouted after Tyreese, as he walked on through the woods, further away from the prison. "We have to go back and look for him!" Your friend gave you no answer, just continued to walk on. With a cocktail of anger, hurt, frustration and sadness coursing through your veins, you quickly caught up to him. "Tyreese!" He stopped suddenly abruptly in his tracks. "We can't, Y/N! We can't! Don't you see? Our home is destroyed, overrun with walkers! Going back there would be suicide!" "I don't care! I have to find him!" Tyreese sighed, bouncing Judith in his arms to keep her asleep and quiet. "I know this is hard for you and I am truly so, so sorry, but we have to look after Judith now. Make sure she survives." A part of you knew that the man was more than right, but your heart just couldn't accept this. You had to made sure that the man you loved was alright. So the emotions inside you exploded, causing you to reveal your 'secret' to your friend. "And I have to make sure that the father of my baby is alive!" Your eyes widened immediately after the words had left your lips, realisation dawning on you. Tyreese's eyes widened as well; his jaw dropping. "You... You are pregnant?" You nodded; tears threatening to fall. "Please, Tyreese, please..." Your voice was quieter and softer now, on the verge of begging. The man sighed once again, before placing a free hand on your upper arm, squeezing reassuringly. "No. It's too late." You wanted to speak up again, but Tyreese was quick to cut you off. "It won't change a thing if we are going back there." "Fine. Then I'm going alone." You wanted to turn on your heels and go, but Tyreese stopped you; grabbed your arm gently. "I can't and won't let you, Y/N. You are pregnant! I'd never forgive myself if something would happen to you. We stay together. Maybe we find Daryl somewhere around here. He is a survivor, you know that." Those words seemed to finally do the trick and convince you to not go back. Instead, you fell into Tyreese's arm, hugging his side and crying against his shoulder.

"Y/N!" Daryl looked around frantically, scanning his surroundings, while taking out several walkers on his way. "Y/N!" He couldn't see you. He just couldn't see you. "Y/N!" The tank, standing in the yard distracted his search for a moment, as he made sure to push a grenade down the gun, causing the man inside to jump out, before the tank exploded. Daryl was quick in driving an arrow through the enemy's chest; looking once again around. "Y/N!" The archer was on the edge of despair, so afraid to lose you. He had held your hand so tight and nevertheless, you were just suddenly gone, vanished into thin air, just because he had to use the hand which was clasping yours to kill an approaching walker. It was a mistake. He should've never let you go and rather just waste an arrow. Feeling the tears coming up in his eyes and witnessing more walkers storming the destroyed home they had built up, he screamed out your name from the top of his lungs for one last time. No response. No you. "Fuck!" He cursed, throwing his weapons to the ground and rubbing the heels of his hands in his eyes - until a familiar voice spoke up behind him.

"Daryl!" The archer spun around. His gaze landed on a young woman with blonde hair. Beth. "I was trying to find the kinds to get them on the bus." Daryl shook his head. "I lost Y/N. I can't find 'er. I can't find 'er." Beth looked at him compassionately, taking his hand. "I'm so sorry, Daryl." The man was quiet for a moment, until he ripped his hand loose from the teenager's soft grip. "You gotta Beth, you gotta go. Get yourself to safety." The young woman's eyes widened. "No! I-I... What about you?" "I can't leave. I need ta find Y/N. I can't lose her." Beth frantically shook her head. "You can't, Daryl. If you stay, you're going to get yourself killed! There are too many walkers!" "Don care. Gotta find 'er." He wanted to walk past Beth, but she held him back with a hand pressed against his chest. "No! Y/N wasn't inside the prison. I didn't see her. You couldn't find her outside. What if she was inside the bus, or left already with someone else?" Daryl's eyes flickered, the gears in his head turning. "Please... If you go in there now and get yourself killed, Y/N is the one who is going to suffer. You don't want that, do you?" Daryl swallowed, shaking his head. "No." "See? Now come on. We have to go. We'll look for her, I promise!" He nodded and followed Beth, still not sure if this was the right decision.

Time passed. Day after day went by. While you, Tyreese and Judith found Carol on your way, Daryl lost Beth to god knows who and found Rick, Carl and Michonne somewhere on the way. They weren't you, but he was relieved to see that other members of his family had survived. Unfortunately, they didn't know what happened to you as well, leaving the archer still in the dark. It was torturous. But so it was for you.

At some point, you lost track of time, couldn't tell if the weeks had already turned to months or not. What you knew was, that the baby living inside you, must be there already for at least three months, since you lately started to show, having a small baby bump now. Carol quickly counted one and one together as well, making sure together with Tyreese that you were safe and protected.

Well... And then Terminus happened. While Daryl tried to stay alive with the others, Carol went on a rescue mission. You wanted to accompany her at all costs, but of course she didn't let you. She didn't want to risk your life and with that the baby's life as well. So, you stayed behind in that little hut with Tyreese and Judith, making sure that this strange man you took hostage didn't escape. Let's put it this way... Not every part of it went according to plan, but in the end everything turned out to be fine. More than fine, actually...

"I'm not digging around with this crap. We just made it out." "The fences are down. They'll run or die." Daryl listened in silence to the group and Rick's arguing, biting his lower lip - until he heard the leaves of the forest ground crunch, alerting him that someone - or most likely rather something must be there. He was right. But it wasn't something. It was someone. Carol. Daryl couldn't believe his eyes, seeing his best friend standing there, only a few feet away. He didn't think he would ever see her again. Not after she had been banished by Rick. But there she was. Daryl didn't hesitate, ran over to her and pulled her into a big hug. That attracted the others attention as well. Everyone was exhausted to the core, but undeniably happy to see Carol. Rick as well. He approached the two friends. "Did you do that?" Carol nodded meekly, on the verge of tears. Rick went immediately to hug her, wrapping both his arms tightly around his friend. "Thank you." The grey-haired woman retreated from the hug, smiling softly. "You have to come with me."

That was exactly what they all did. They followed Carol to the little hut… "They're back! Y/N they're back!" Tyreese exclaimed, watching their family approach the hut through one of the windows. "Really?!" You literally jumped up from where you sat on the ground beside Judith's makeshift crib. "Yes!" "Daryl! Can you see Daryl?!" Tyreese turned to face you, smiling. "Look for yourself." You sprinted to the window, seeing familiar and also a few unfamiliar faces. Among them, was Daryl. Seeing him kickstarted your heart, sending waves of pure happiness through your veins. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh," you splattered out, before moving over to run out of the hut. "Daryl! Daryl!" The archer's eyes shot up, landing directly on you. For the second time within minutes, he couldn't believe his eyes. He had already lost hope, thinking he was never ever going to see you again. "Y/N..." He breathed out, letting his crossbow fall to the ground and running towards you, meeting you halfway in a hug. You literally jumped into his arms, wrapping both your arms and legs around him. "Daryl..." You sobbed, burying your face in his neck. "Y/N..." You could tell that Daryl was crying as well. His voice quivering and unsteady. The world around you faded. Just you and Daryl existed in that very moment. "I-I thought I lost you. I thought I was never going to see you again." You stammered, still clinging to him. "Me too. I couldn't find ya. I searched for ya, but I just couldn't find ya." "I'm here now." You whispered with a smile, peppering the skin on his neck with small kisses. "I am never going let ya out of my sight again, I promise. 'M gonna protect you better, I swear." You shook your head. "You always protect me as best as you can. This wasn't your fault. Stop blaming yourself, please. It was the Governor's fault. Nobody else's." Daryl just nodded against your shoulder, relieved that he had you back in his arms. That was everything what mattered in that moment. You held him for another while, before you untangled yourself from around your boyfriend and backed up a bit, just enough to look into his blue, greyish eyes. Though, one eye was slightly swollen and red. All in all, he looked quite battered and bruised, causing your heart to ache. Gently, you cupped his scruffy cheeks, looking at him with furrowed brows, worried. He noticed that of course, "M fine. Don worry." and started immediately to rub reassuring circles in the clothed skin of your hips with his thumbs. "You don't look fine, Daryl." The archer shook his head. "M fine, really. Jus' a black eye and a few cuts and bruises... How are you? You alright?" His question reminded you suddenly of the baby, growing in your womb. His baby. You swallowed. Now was the time to tell him, wasn't it?

"Y-Yes, I am, b-but there's something I need to tell you, I-" "We need to go." Rick's voice suddenly cut through the air, loud enough to catch both, yours and Daryl's attention. The archer looked at his brother, an arm still protectively wrapped around you. He hadn't noticed your small baby bump yet. "Yeah, but where?" He asked. "Somewhere far away from there," answered Rick, everybody shuffling around to get ready for moving along. Daryl nodded, thinking the same as Rick. "You two coming?" "Yes, just give us a minute. We'll catch up." You jumped to answer your friend, before Daryl could. You had to tell him. Now. "Alright. Just don't stay behind. We'll make sure to look out for you." You nodded, giving him a smile. "Thanks." The others went to follow Rick, leaving you and Daryl on your own - for now. The archer's gaze met yours again, fear and worry clouding his blue-grey orbs. "What is it?" Daryl asked, eyes suddenly widening. "You didn't get bit, did ya?!" You quickly shook your head. "No, no! It's not that! I didn't get bit!" He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing out relieved. "Thank fuck. What is it then?" You took a deep breath. Now or never. "I-I'm pregnant." Daryl blinked, looking at you incredulously. "W-What?" You bit your lip, gently reaching for his hand and placing it on your small baby bump for him to feel. "I-I'm pregnant." An audible gasp left his lips; emotions getting stuck in his throat and tears blurring his vision. "P-Pregnant? Y-Yer pregnant?" You nodded, having to fight the tears once again as well. "Oh Y/N..." Daryl sobbed, engulfing you in another hug.

"Since when do you know?" You swallowed hard, knowing that this question would come. "A few days before the prison fell..." "W-What?" He was shocked. "Why didn't you tell me?" "I'm sorry. I-I wanted to, but I was so afraid because of what happened to Lori a-a-and I dunno... Before I could tell you, everything went south. I'm so sorry." "Damnit, Y/N... Jus' imagine what could've happen if you ended up alone out there? Ya could've died!" "But I didn't! I found Tyreese and Carol. They took care of me. They always made sure I was okay." Daryl scoffed, but took your hands into his. "Don scare the shit outta me again, woman, I swear…" You had to smile softly at his words, shaking your head, "Promise." and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him lovingly. "Let's catch up to the others. You stay close ta me. I don't want ya out of my sight, understood?" You nodded. "Yes, Sir." "Good." The archer intertwined your fingers with his, grabbed his crossbow and gently pulled you with him, in order to catch up to the others - what you did in the end. "So, you're not mad at me, that I'm, well... Pregnant?" Once again, he shook his head. "Why should I? This is wonderful, actually. Maybe not the best time, but we're gonna make this. Judith made it, too." You smiled up at him, your heart full and content with love. "I love you." "I love ya too, sunshine - and I promise I'm goin' to look after you and that kid."

#daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon #daryl x you #daryl imagines #daryl dixon imagine #twd fanfic #twd imagine #twd oneshot #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead fanfic #daryl dixon x pregnant!reader

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hazbinfallinginaspiral · 8 days

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I’m Not Cute! (Soft!Vox x Reader)

“Shhh, stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair,” Vox said moving gently, weaving the strands together carefully.

“it feels weird,” I grumbled, crossing my arms.

“oh come on now,” he said with a playful smile. “We both know how messy it gets if we leave it down before bed.”

“It’s inconvenient,” I agreed. I’d woken up with his hands tangled in my hair one too many times. It was also a pain when it brushed against his ports.

“Your hair is soft,” Vox noted, after a few seconds of silence. “Can I borrow your sweater tonight? It smells like you.”

“If you want,” I said with a smile. It was always so cute when he asked for things like that. Anything to remind him of me. I loved it. “I think you’d look cute in it.”

“What? Cute?” He asked, sounding surprised. He tied off my braids and pulled me up against him, resting his bottom screen (where his chin would be) on the top of my head. “I’m not cute.”

“Debatable,” I said lightly. His arms wrapped around my torso and I hugged them tightly. “You are the most adorably cute person I’ve ever met. The cutest boyfriend in existence.”

“Sweetheart… I’m an Overlord of Hell and CEO of my own billion dollar company, I’m the one of the richest people down here and we both know I didn’t achieve all that by asking nicely,” Vox said with a laugh. He nuzzled his face against my head affectionately. “I can confidently assure you that I’m not cute.”

I squinted at him and thought for a moment. I was determined to make my point. My expression softened and I looked up at him with puppy dog eyes, tugging gently on his sleeve. “Voxy…”

He froze for a moment, his hand twitching for a moment as he held me. “Oh come on,” he said, trying to play off the effect I knew it had on him. “Really? This card? That not fair and you know it.”

“But Vox…” I mumbled, my voice a small plea. I tugged on his sleeve again, more insistent. “I just want a kiss. Please?” I knew he was an absolute sucker for when I acted like this.

He glitched for a moment, jerking away unintentionally. I didn’t mind, I knew he wasn’t trying to be rude or rough. I felt him getting hotter- he overheated when he got flustered.

“See? I was right,” I said with a triumphant smile, dropping my little act. “You are cute!”

He was frozen for a moment, still processing, still overheating slightly. “Mm… you’re comfy,” I mumbled, laying down directly on top of him, squishing him with my weight. He was usually nice and warm since he was part machine- or, I assumed he was. There had to be some way his TV head connected to his body. What was the word? Biomechanical? Didn’t matter. He was extra toasty from my teasing. I was comfortable.

“Darling,” Vox muttered, sounding disgruntled. I lifted my head slightly to see his flat screen face looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Hm?” I asked innocently, giving him a playful kiss on the cheek. “Whatever could possibly be the matter, my handsome and amazing boyfriend?”

“Fine,” He sighed, a smile tugging at his lips despite his best efforts. “I didn’t need to sleep anyway.” He wrapped his arms around me, shifting our positions so he’d be more comfortable.

“I love you,” I said with a grin. I laughed softly and leaned into his touch, snuggling up against him.

“I love you too, my dear,” Vox murmured, running his fingers through my hair. He played with it for a moment, then gave me a gentle kiss on the lips. He lingered for a moment, then pulled away. “More than you could ever know.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #ao3 writer #vox fanfiction #vox x reader #x reader #fluff #wholesome #my writing #writing #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel brainrot #asks open #i take requests

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mysticheathenn · 3 months

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What's Your Sign of Encouragement?

Hi there! I hope you all enjoy it and remember to take what resonates and leave what does not as this is a general reading. This reading does not supplement your need to go and seek actual therapy or professional help.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

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Pile l:

Tarot: Knight of Pentacles, 3 of Pentacles, The Star (reversed), 7 of Wands. Oracle: Healing, Life Purpose, Happiness, Financial Health

"You are not in a prison" was a phrase I heard as I was shuffling your tarot cards pile 1. There is a difference between being in a prison and also being in your own way. You're causing yourself to stay stuck not ever seeing that you have the key to freedom. Your mind is holding you hostage as your soul is begging to be set free. "Why do you deny yourself heaven? Why do you find yourself undeserving? Why are you afraid of happiness? You think it's not possible for someone like you. But you are more than deserving" - Beyonce. Some of the words I changed because she was talking about love/Jay-z from the Lemonade album but why are you so afraid of good things, boo when good things are calling for you. Open up the wounds that have hurt you and heal. Your life purpose is calling you, financial abundance is also calling you but you need to wake up. Change your mindset and ways. Stop self-sabotaging and seek some healing and therapy. I want to see you win, others want to see you win. But it all starts with you wanting to see yourself win too. I wish I could hug you pile 1, you need it the most right now but I know you got this. Keep reminding yourself that you are a star, you ARE the main character and take your time one foot after another. I know life is shit right now but see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Pile ll:

Tarot: None Oracle: Answers, Finding, Home, Passion, Courage "The answers you seek are inside of you. You're looking everywhere but where you need to be looking, inside." You may be trying to find yourself looking everywhere from social media, to finding yourself in love partners, careers, etc when you should be looking inside of you. Listen to your intuition, listen to the fire that most likely has been burning inside of you but you have been ignoring it out of fear that no one will like this new version or worse maybe you won't like this new person you feel deep down inside. Do not be afraid pile ll. There is a saying that goes "Don't let the money change you, let it make you" from the iconic movie Player's Club but in the sense of this context I am saying embrace the change but don't let the change break you or turn into something that it isn't. You are meant for change, growth, and finding your sense of home this lifetime. You deserve to be at peace and comfort in not only your own skin but the people around you. Find your community, find where you belong, there are billions of people out there who are dying to meet this new version of you, but you have to be willing to show up. Your pile surprisingly didn't need any tarot only oracle cards and the messages were coming in. Have the courage pile ll. *Viola Davis Voice from the Help* You are safe. You is loved. You is welcomed. You is amazing. make that your mantra as you find your sense of home, belonging, acceptance, and self-love.

Pile lll:

Tarot: The Magician (reversed), 10 of Wands, Knight of Wands (reversed), The Lovers, 7 of Cups Oracle: Friendship, Fertility, Boundaries, Prosperity, Strength Pile lll why are you almost always my pile with romance, friendship, or family with boundary problems, haha. Who do I need to smack for you guys because this has to stop, my guy. For some strange reason, I feel one of you said I need to smack everyone for you and I believe it. Two songs are coming in for you and that's "We're Not Going To Take It by Twisted Sisters and "Loverboy by Mickey and Sylvia both popular songs back in the day especially Lover Boy as it was in the original movie Dirty Dancing. You are sick and tired of being sick and tired and you're becoming fed up with being presented bread crumbs for your relationships whether this is romantic or platonic. You want more from the people around you but you fear leaving because you feel you don't have any other options. If not other options you aren't sure if this is as good as it gets and it's not. There is always a bigger and better everything in life. As soon as you think that you have reached greatness or met the best person in the world you meet a whole new level of amazing you keep climbing from there. Just know that whatever whoever you are dealing with you have a whole community behind you waiting to help you pick up where you are and show you a whole new world. If not the current people in your life new people are coming in as well wanting to show you the better things whether it's food, clothes, community, love, career...you name it. Don't believe for a second that you don't have options because you will always have options. A few of you may have been drawn to pile 1 as well. It's okay to start over and it's okay to set boundaries. Take a deep breath and dare to do what is right for you and believe that your life is abundant in all ways possible.

That's all I have for everyone. I hope you enjoyed this reading. Until next time, stay safe and blessed.

#spirituality #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarotblr #tarot cards #pick a card #witchblr #pac tarot #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick an image #pick a card reading #pac reading

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chrolloluvr · 2 months

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Hello! Can I ask for general relationship headcannons with Mammon from helluva? I know he's toxic but I just love this bastard and his australian accent lol.

General Mammon SFW Relationship Hcs pt.1

Note: YESS TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!! I love this dude idc what anybody thinks, also i might do a pt2 if this gets enough traction!! This is also a Female!reader, but if you squint it can be Genderneutral!reader

Warnings: Some cussing, use of pet names, some creepy behavior 💀

Starting off, Mammon would probably love to show you off. At his clown pageants, royal meetings, and basically anywhere important. If he's going somewhere, you will most likely be there, with his hand on one of your hips, or carrying you on his shoulder. However he won't let anybody get to know you, or even get their grubby hands near your precious body. Most of his fans speculate that if they see you somewhere, Mammon is always somewhere near you, or he at least has his servants follow you. I also imagine he also brings you to interviews.

He just loves to talk his head off about you. When it comes to his little lady, he just can't keep his mouth shut. I swear this man will be talking to Beelzebub or one of his business partners, and be like “Yeah that's nice and all dickhead, but Y/N is better at that by a long shot.” HE WILL BRING YOU UP AT THE MOST RANDOM TIMES! He will also twist his words in a way that involves you.

Loves and lives to buy you things. He feels obligated to get you luxurious items, even if you don't want them or feel bad. He knows he's one of, if not the most wealthy man in hell, so just let him spoil you, because he won't take no for an answer. If you don't like something he buys you, he won't be mad at you, but the people who made it. You're his pride and joy, so anything he buys you is very luxurious and one of a kind. When you go out to events with him, the press and 666 news will go crazy over the latest new necklace he bought you. If you just look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, he will move heaven and hell for you.

He knows your weakness is his boisterous voice. He notices every detail about you, including the way your knees lock and your demeanor softens when he does that deep, Australian accent. He likes to grab your cheeks, and say in a low husky voice how you're so cute babe, my perfect little woman. Or when he calls you or leaves voicemails, he will talk innocently about something, but you never fail to take his voice and imagine it in, well, other ways.

I feel like Mammon would give you nicknames all the time. He rarely calls you buy your real name, unless hes upset, but he is never truly upset with you. He will call you babe most of the time, misses, my little lady, sweetheart, princess, my queen, woman, babycakes, and my little money maker (sometimes). He will call you these things, but also when he wants something from you like a warm hug, or to rub his shoulders, or to bring him his morning breakfast. He doesnt call you by your real name often, because he thinks its too serious, and in his eyes, you arent serious,you are just his little innocent woman, oblivious to the dangerous underworld.

There is an obvious power imbalance between the two of you. There's Mammon, a powerful deadly sin, the king of greed, and loved by billions of demons. And then there's you, a lowly demon/sinner who in his eyes, can barely do anything by yourself, hell, you need him to open a nutella jar for christ sake. He thinks of himself as your big strong protector, and also your king who you should bow down to, who you should be thankful for, because millions and millions of girls would die to be in your position.

When you two date, he want complete control over your life. Your social media, friends, people you talk to, family, etc. He most likely implanted a tracker somewhere on your body while you were sleeping. He controls all your socials, and most likely put “Account ran by the handsome king of greed” im your Sinstagram bio 😭. He also deleted any hate comments. One time somebody put “Miss girl is getting that little dick every night” And he got so butthurt, so he blocked them and personally killed them. He also wants you to stay innocent.

He loves to touch you. whether it be groping you, or slowly dragging his gloved fingers over your skin. He does not care about your size too, whether you are chubby or skinny, he loves you for you and that only applies to you. It does not matter how big or small your boobs are, he will guaranteed grab them atleast twice every day randomly. His favorite part of your body is most likely your belly and your boobs. But he loves everything about you, dont get me wrong.

He will never, and I mean never, let you down. He wants to see your pretty smile. If your going on a flight? First class. A show? Front row. You two are staying at a hotel? Presidential suite. He has you covered. Hes the sin of greed for crying out loud. He uses his status to get you the best of the best. If he sees you upset, he is upset at the people around him, and throws a big temper tantrum. In his eyes, he always needs to be the person to make you happy. If he ever sees you laughing at another mans corny jokes, he makes a mental note to personally handle them, and show them that he is your man, not some low class, vile excuse of a man.

#mammon #mammon hb #helluva boss #mammon hb x reader #mammon x reader #mammon x reader hb #hb mammon #hb mammon x reader #hazbin hotel #mammon helluva #mammon helluva boss #mammon hcs #mammon headcannons #mammon sfw #helluva boss x reader #alastor x reader

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gracesimp · 1 year

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soulmates

tenth doctor x fem!reader

Summary: it's rare, but sometimes in the universe, people meet their soulmate. Upon first touch with one's soulmate,a connection is formed. A physical and mental bond. What happens when the Doctor meets his soulmate?

Nearly eight billion people live on Earth. With the possibilities of life on other planets and different worlds, the belief of soulmates wasn't unwarranted in any way. The belief, however, of meeting your destined partner was a little harder to accept. Maybe it was one of the cruelest tricks of all. Knowing that they were out there - somewhere - but unlikely to ever meet them.

The Doctor often talked about miracles. The gift of the universe. Rare, though that makes then more magical when they occur. Never when you're expecting nor prepared. The Doctor was neither when the present of a miracle was handed to him, but he couldn't be more grateful if he tried.

________

Rose Tyler ran into the console room, a spring in her step, yelling out for the Doctor and squeaking in surprise when his head popped up from under the railings.

"Whistle, would you?!" She moaned, resting a hand on her racing heart as the Doctor laughed. She rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at him when his smile widened.

"What do you want to do today? We could go to the future! There's this planet, yeah, that's literally made of diamonds! The sky shines so bright, you have to wear these really blocky sunglasses that they invented especially for sightseers." He chuckled, words spewing out faster than his poor companion could comprehend.

"OR, we could go back in time! I could take you to meet Cleopatra..ooh, actually, maybe not. I think she's still mad at me for winning that game of cards. Sore loser-"

"Doctor!" Rose cut his ramblings short, failing to keep her amusement hidden. "I need to go home. Just for a quick visit." She said, reaching into her pocket and taking out her 'super-phone' before she waved it in front of his face. "I've not seen my best mate for a bit. I'm beginning to miss her." She frowned.

The Doctor hesitated slightly due to a strange feeling running through him, but it was gone as quick as it came. He shook his head then began to press random buttons.

"Sure, where does she live?"

"Nah, I already messaged her, she's meeting me at home." The blonde told him, receiving a low groan from the alien. She turned to him, eyebrow raised. "What?"

He cursed under his breath, kicking his feet on the ground in defeat. "Nothing, just means we've gotta see your mum."

"oi!"

_____

After a little struggle with parking the tardis, the two had finally landed in the correct time and place. Rose immediately hopped up from off the floor after she had been struck down by the dodgy driving and ran out the door.

The Doctor was taking his time, slowly shoving his arms into his brown coat, unable to shake this weird feeling. He moved towards the door, ready to leave, when the tardis began to trill. Her lights flashed teasingly and the Doctor narrowed his eyes. "What do you know?" He asked. "What are you not telling me?" He didn't earn a response other than some more flashing lights and a playful wheeze from his ship. "Whatever." He huffed when the tardis mentally nudged him with a tiny sense of urgency and made him feel compelled to walk out the door.

Doing as instructed, he shoved the door open and was met by his blonde friend, who simply rolled her eyes at him before linking their arms and pulling him towards the estate. "Could you take any longer?"

"You wouldn't understand but it takes time to look this good." He mocked, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Oh, shove it." She nudged him hard.

After countless amounts of stairs, the duo had finally made it to the Tyler residence. Not bothering to knock, Rose walked straight in, dragging the doctor with her. Jackie came running at the sound of her daughter, embracing her tightly in a hug. The Doctor subtly tried to slip away, but was unfortunate and the oldest Tyler spotted him, pulling him in, uncaring of his arms flying around awkwardly.

They pulled away and Jackie turned to her daughter, crossing her arms across her chest. "What have I told you about that bloody phone? Just one call, please!" She cried, and the Doctor sniggered at the embarrassment on his friend's face at the telling off she was receiving.

"Sorry." Rose mumbled, slyly elbowing the Doctor in his stomach, ignoring the groan of pain that replaced his snickering.

"Right, anyone for tea?" Asked Jackie, sauntering away into the kitchen, noting Rose's shadowing footsteps.

"Ooh, tea. Lovely! Milk and six sugars, please!" The only brunette spoke, following Rose into the living room and deciding to ignore the disgusted look on her face. He shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes making rounds across the room. Messy, but a natural kind of messy. Like it had recently been cleaned, but there were signs of life. Such as the magazine that was just thrown on the sofa and a stained mug abandoned on the table. He liked it.

"Yeah, I'll have a cup please, mum." Rose shouted into the kitchen. "Y/n not here?"

"No. You know what she's like. Always late, that girl." She chuckled while she poured the water into the cups.

"I'd better go help her." Rose said, excusing herself from the room.

"So, go on, where've you been now? You been taking care of her, Doctor?" The mother questioned, smiling softly when he answered with a 'She takes care of me!'

"Good, that's what I like to hear." She smiled, taking the milk out of the fridge when the doorbell rang. "Ooh, that'll be y/n!"

"Doctor, can you go let her in?" Rose asked, peeking her head around the door, hands full and a tin of biscuits under her chin. He chuckled at the sight, nodding as confirmation.

He opened the door, ready to greet Rose's friend, but stopped in his tracks at the sight of her.

Her reaction was similar. She smiled brightly, but it slowly dimmed at the stranger in front of her. Her eyes took all of him in. His messy hair, his freckled cheeks, his honey brown eyes that adorned specks of caramel.

The Doctor did the same, watching as she took a strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear. Looking at her lips as they parted in surprise. The feeling he felt earlier only intensified when he trailed his eyes slowly down her body, taking his time and savouring every detail.

When they locked eyes again, a mutual blush was shared. No words had yet been spoken, but somehow an understanding was made. Neither could quite tell how long they had been stood in silence. Maybe a few seconds, perhaps a few minutes. Neither cared, both wishing to live in this moment for as long as possible.

Alas, they were interrupted. The blonde came marching to the door, whacking the doctor on his head as she placed her hands on her hips. "What are you doing?" She rolled her eyes, watching as the Doctor reluctantly tore his eyes away from the woman still standing outside. "Invite her in, idiot!"

The Doctor sputtered, blush deepening as he brought up a hand to rub the back of his neck. "O-Oh, yeah," he coughed. "Come on in."

Y/n smiled shyly, ducking her head as she walked by.

Rose tutted, leading her into the living room. "You'll have to excuse him. Still training him. When we first met he had no idea what was socially acceptable or not. He's why my job blew up. Still, good job he's got me, eh?" Rose giggled, tidying around a bit.

Y/n laughed a little, trying to ignore the tall man who had reentered the room.

The Doctor coughed, tapping Rose repeatedly on the leg as they sat down. Ignoring him, Rose turned to Y/n, attempting to start a conversation but losing her nerve at the neverending smacks she was getting from the Doctor. "Oh, my God, what?"

"Are you not going to introduce us?"

"Oh, right. Y/n, this is the Doctor. We travel together. Doctor, this is y/n. We've been best friends since primary." She smiled fondly.

"Lovely to meet you, y/n." He grinned, reaching out to shake her hand in greeting.

"Likewise." She smiled, taking ahold of his hand. Both of their grips tightened as gasps escaped their lips. The room and the sound of Rose's panicked yells faded away.All Rose could do was watch, confused, as golden energy began to course through the veins in their arms.

The pair had been engulfed in pure ecstasy, all three of their hearts racing. Y/n clung on tighter to his calloused hand as she began to see visions. Strange, random flashes that didn't make any sense, but she somehow knew that eventually they would. She saw as shadowed figures danced in the moonlight. She heard echoed laughter, she could see stars and supernovas. Flashes of a blue box began to appear. A little blue box, not so little at all.

It was strange. It was like she was experiencing memories that had yet to be made. Some of them felt as though they weren't hers. Perhaps a tad longer than she'd like to admit, she was able to conclude that she was walking upon the memories of the Doctor. She could see his past faces, his former companions. She could even see the first time Rose ran into the tardis, then out again, then back in. She listened to all the astonished cries of 'it's bigger on the inside!' and she could feel the joy the Doctor felt for hearing it.

And lastly, a soft echo of a whisper could be heard. A name kept hidden. A name so secret the power of it alone broke her from the transelike state.

They both came to with a deep gasp, losing their grip on each other as the room reappeared. Y/n's head bobbed a bit, feeling too heavy and her hearing was diluted. Rose and Jackie's yells felt so distant. A sharp burning sensation struck her head as she cried out, unable to see the Doctor rubbing at his own temples, or the hiss he released before her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she allowed the darkness to consume her.

Hours had passed by before Y/n woke up. She let out a soft wimper as she took I'm her surroundings. She was tucked up in Rose's bed, still wearing her clothes. The Doctor had a soft smile toying on his lips when she let out a noise of surprise upon finding him sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Hello." His voice was low, almost talking in a hushed whisper.

Y/n smiled back and rearranged the pillows behind her so that she was sitting upright. "Hello."

The Doctor nodded to the side of her and she looked at the bedside table. "Tea?" he asked, pointing to the hot cup situated on the otherwise lone table. "Just how you like it."

Y/n picked it up, raising an eyebrow at the, what she had previously discovered, timelord.

"Don't worry, Jackie didn't make it." They both shared a chuckle and he watched as she took a little sip, moaning in delight.

Silence filled the room as y/n placed the cup back down. She just stared at the man, and he did the same.

Seconds had passed before she broke the quietness. "Doctor.. What happened before? I mean, it was weird. It was like.. I was seeing into your life. And even now, I can feel things that aren't mine. I just don't understand." She frowned.

The doctor leaned over, taking her hand in his when he felt the twinge of her panic, able to make it subside just by his touch.

"I don't believe it." He whispered, brushing his thumb across the small mark on the back of her hand. One that had not been there before. One that now matched his. "Y/n, have you ever heard of soulmates?"

The woman nodded, replying softly with an "of course."

"Well, sometimes, very rarely, but sometimes, people meet theirs. I've only ever heard about it in stories, I never thought it would happen to me." He said, now searching her face with his eyes. "Y/n, you're my miracle."

And she was. She saved him in every aspect.

OKAYYY, I WROTE THIS WHEN I WAS SLEEP DEPRIVED AND HAD NO IDEA HOW TO END IT LMAO SORRY FOR THE CHEESIENESS. BUT IT WAS SOMETHING DIFFERENT AND I ENJOYED WRITING THIS :)

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zcorners120 · 9 months

Note

I love love love your writing, maybe a request about the reader working in finance or business or smthing and just not feeling as beautiful as some of the other models/wags at an event, with Charles comforting her.

thank you so much mwaaaah <3 yesssssssss! i must say i like the concept of a wag being into a job sector like that, i love businessss

charles leclerc x fem!reader

synopsis; req above MASTERLIST

warnings; swearing

Leadership as a woman can be a difficult thing to own and portray without coming across as emotional, a bitch, being too 'Work orientated'. Working at a multi billion dollar business as the head of sales overlooking all of Europe was a hefty title.

Your father, former F1 reporter and journalist ensured you worked your way to success, even when surrounded by F1 drivers worth millions. Becoming an avid fan and sharing the passion with your father, you attended regularly, as a little girl and as the woman you come to be.

How you came about to be the girlfriend of the Charles Leclerc, or should I, (the narrator in your head) rephrase; How Charles Leclerc came about to be the boyfriend of Y/N L/N, featured in Forbes magazine as one of the most successful business women in our modern day, is another story.

Paddock appearances were becoming a more normal occasion for you, you had no excuse to stray away from making WAG friends at this point.

A tap on the shoulder, you turned your head to be met with one of the most beautiful women you've ever seen.

"Hi! You're Y/N right? I'm Lily, Alex's girlfriend!" Her angelic voice spoke, pearly whites shining without a flaw.

Having to slightly swallow due to your embarrassingly dry throat, "Yeah! It's so great to meet you, I was worried I wouldn't be able to find anyone to hang out with."

"Oh my gosh of course, I was so nervous in my first couple appearances but you're a pro already." She spoke, before being called over by a reporter.

"I'll see you later!"

Standing cowardly in your spot, fingers twiddling, you had to snap back into reality. Lily was a wonderful girl, there wasn't a need to be jealous. Girls don't get into competition with one another, especially one sided competition and jealousy.

You felt horrible about it, but couldn't help feel it when you're stood in straight leg jeans, black long sleeved top with a grey hoodie on your arm. It was slightly crushing, looking around to see photographers going wild over the supermodels and genetically blessed WAGs all over the paddock.

But it wasn't a matter of them being at fault here, because they didn't choose how they look, but a matter of yourself. It was self destructing and realising this quality in yourself made you feel isolated.

Verge of a panic attack, you rush to Charles' driver's room praying he wasn't there to see you in this state. Smoothly moving past people and not drawing too much attention to yourself you burst the door open.

"Hey amour, you okay?" Even his voice comforted, and the warm smile that you made you melt.

"Nothing, all good." Putting on a meek smile.

"No, please tell me. Something's off." The tone suddenly serious, desperation twinkling in his eyes.

"It's just that.. It sounds pathetic."

He pulls that look.

"I was looking around the paddock and every girl was just so beautiful, supermodels, journalists, influencers."

"Ba-"

Cutting him off, "I just felt so out of place, their type of thing being gala dinners and extravagant brand trips, mine being sitting in meetings and offices."

"Baby. You have nothing, and I mean literally nothing to be insecure about. Look at yourself, you're need to appreciate yourself like how I'm appreciating you. You are beautiful, sent from Heaven if I may. You're kind, funny, supporting, confident, and you don't take shit from anyone. You are my person, my missing piece."

Cheeks blushing furiously at the praise, pulling him in for a hug. You knew you had nothing to worry about now.

"Look at who's being pathetic and mushy now." He laughs, pulling you in for a kiss.

WRITERS PSAAA; i got so into this lmao, it reminded me of the women empowerment vibe from the new Barbie movie, how we're never against each other, but here to encourage one another.

By these means, it comes across as like hating influencers, models and journalists in this but it's not like that haha, just picked some of the more common roles for women to have in the F1 world.

LOVE U ALL, LOVE URSELVES <3

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grimm-writings · 13 days

Note

hello! <3 i read your dungeon meshi stuff and it was great!! is it alright if i request some relationship headcanons with chilchuk? preferably with a male s/o, but gn is alright too! thank you sm! i hope you have a good day.

chilchuck relationship headcanons!!

…ft! chilchuck x m! reader

…tags! fluff, mentions of chilchuck's wife, chilchuck bisexuality crisis, teeny weeny hurt/comfort, talk of marriage, just word vomit tbh

…wc! 1561 (UHM...)

…notes! m! reader food come get it!!!!!!!! thank you for giving me the opportunity to go crazy stupid with this request anon i love chil so much is it obvious yet

Ok let’s get one thing straight.

(He isn’t. Haha.)

But! In all seriousness, Chilchuck has one thing he needs to do before considering a committed relationship.

Yep, even with all the longing glances, late night conversations, and helping each other learn and grow, he has to delay the fruition of your relationship until after everything after the dungeon dies down.

Well… he just needs to talk to his past lover first. He needs to have a long, long conversation with her, and he’ll be sure to mention you too.

He relays this to you during the great feast privately. Despite his nervousness, the sigh of relief that escapes him is noticeable. His shoulders slack and he closes his eyes. Finally, it’s off his chest.

Before we talk about the actual relationship, though, let’s talk about stuff that happened during the pining phase! Yay!

Chilchuck only had one flame his entire life, and that was his childhood friend. He never really ‘dated’, never really had any sort of time to explore his feelings for anyone else.

To put it plainly, he had no idea he was into guys.

“I dunno, Senshi was always kind of handsome,” Chilchuck notes with Laios, and his doppelganger nods in agreement. You and Marcille pause for a second, processing the words the two men said. Like a house pet that has certain opinions regarding these sorts of people, you side-eye one another. “How would you know that?” You challenge. In response, one of the Chilchucks glances over at you – the more tired looking one – and he shrugs. “Not anyone would have the kinda bold look in his eyes he has. The pinnacle of masculinity,” he huffs with a small grin, as if daydreaming of the very such thing. You have no words. You quite simply don’t.

It’d be a major “oh FUCK” moment when he does realise. Honestly the entire realisation of feelings for Chilchuck is Good Medicine but times a billion.

He’s pacing he’s pulling at his hair he’s questioning how the HELL did this happen.

If he has a pillow he is screaming into it more often than he normally does.

If you’re more on the masculine side, or are a dwarf, this man is a right mess around you.

Like he’s stammering constantly and hates himself for it. Constantly red in the face around you and has to excuse himself.

But like . Not in a gay way or anything.

(Seriously if you think how he avoids his friends is ridiculous, this is eleven times worse.)

It takes some time, but I can imagine there’s a moment in the dungeon where you kissed at least once.

Chilchuck is the one to break away first, his eyes wide and face beet red. It doesn’t take long for him to take his hands away from where they were, interlaced with yours, to hold his face and drag his skin down in dread. “...Did you like it?” You nervously ask. He’s the king of mixed signals… The half-foot nods slowly, still looking like he experienced some form of unwanted enlightenment. “Yuh–huh,” he squeaks. You smile. That’s good enough for you.

Marcille definitely picks up on SOME tension though. She’s oddly observant of that sort of thing.

Once you actually reveal to the party that you’re seeing each other post-canon, Marcille disrespectfully shouts “I KNEW IT!”

As Chilchuck and her have an arguing match about that, you’ll look at Laios who looks shocked. He had no idea. Some things never change.

Senshi and Falin are normal and actually just congratulate you. Give them hugs for me.

BUT FINALLY ONTO ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS!!!!!! (This is like 600 words so far.)

He’s still uneasy about a lot of things. He has a deep-rooted fear of messing this up again.

When the relationship is established he might distance himself for a bit. Not on purpose, mind you, he’s just… not sure of what to do, and he’d rather not do anything at all than mess up.

Chilchuck no that in turn is messing up noo!!!!

You’d have to tell him this and he’ll try and turn his behaviour around instantaneously. He’ll be nervous and frustrated with himself, but take it slow and he’ll come around eventually.

His nicknames are … unique.

He’ll use stuff like “idiot” with the greatest affection in his eyes and a soft grin, but he’ll say “hey handsome” with the most dripping sarcasm and sneer. Why is he like this—

Play with his strands of grey hair and he’s so flustered, swatting your hand away. If he’s tired and cuddling into you, though, he… well, he wouldn’t mind it.

Speaking of cuddling! He didn’t really do much like cuddling in his previous relationship, to your surprise. He just shrugs and says he and his old flame weren’t that kind of people.

This is how you inadvertently find out Chilchuck is a wombo combo of touch starved and too embarrassed by it to do anything about it. How does he live…?

He knows himself if you’re not a half-foot that him being a big spoon is too ridiculous of a notion. Yeah, he immediately assumes he has to be the one spooning you. He realises with time though that he… drastically prefers being in your arms. Feeling secure, loved… He really really likes it.

Not like you can ever get him to admit it verbally.

(You can still see it from how he relaxes into you and smiles as he drifts off into dreamland.)

It’s been a long day, and Chilchuck wants nothing more than to see you. You look up from where you were sitting when your boyfriend enters the house and smile. “Good evening, love.” God, your smile. If he didn’t know he’d be coming home to this, then the work day wouldn’t have been worth it. He sighs and smiles, walking to you and immediately falling onto your lap. His face tucks itself into your stomach and his arms wrap around your middle. “Hm, someone’s tired,” you remark with a grin. Chilchuck merely groans into your form. Sparing him from any teasing, you card your fingers through your hair. You can already feel how he melts into you as he loses consciousness. You lean down and kiss the shell of his ear. “Sweet dreams, Chil.”

For a long time, he struggles with actually calling you his boyfriend. It’s not like he’s ashamed of you, it’s just… It’s always been “my wife” for such a long time. He still can’t quite fathom this change in his life. That you’re his and he’s yours.

Eventually, he’ll be the one to proudly proclaim “my boyfriend!” when he gets the chance to mention you. He’s quite proud of the fact he’s got you, after all.

His kisses are usually quick and brief pecks on your temple or if he’s not in reach, your hand or shoulder.

Ugh can you imagine him taking your hand and giving a kiss to the back of it? And you can feel his thumb ghost over your knuckles reassuringly before wishing you farewell to work? Dying dead.

Kiss him and he’s always taken aback every time. He still won’t be able to comprehend it no matter how many times you’ve done it.

(To be slightly on the more suggestive side… really likes making out when in the mood. He can do that for hours with him on top of you. Though he wouldn’t mind being underneath if he considers it…)

He daydreams more often than he likes, especially early in the relationship. He’ll feel ridiculous for it, like some lovestruck schoolboy but… well, yeah, he IS utterly enamoured with you! Don’t be surprised if you catch him staring at you or checking you out in some way. Call him out, and he’ll flush with a furrowed brow and glance away.

His love language mostly comes in the form of acts of service. Although there’s a slight bit of gift giving too. He likes giving you wordworks or embroidery he made if he knows you like it. Maybe he’ll make you a teddy or ragdoll if you’re into that!

You also get Chilchuck thinking about the impossible after a while. He doesn’t try to make a big deal out of it, but it’s kinda hard when…

“I think I can give marriage a second chance,” Chilchuck says out of the blue to you one relaxing night in bed. His hair is messed up by you burying your head into it, and your lover is tucked into your chest, holding onto your waist. His words certainly catch you off guard, and for once Chilchuck doesn’t make a thing out of being the one to fluster you for once. Instead, he tucks his nose into your neck and sighs. “I just…” he pauses for a few seconds. “I think I can do it right this time. If you’re here with me. I think I can do it.” The silence is thick with a kind of tenderness you’d only associate with the colour pink. It’s deep and you can feel your face glow in the heat. You pull Chilchuck closer and kiss his head. “I’d really like that Chilchuck. I really would.” He chuckles slightly at the soft sensation, closing his eyes again. “Thank you,” he says, “I mean it. I couldn’t have made it this far without you.”

#✮ grimm's fics!#delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #delicious in dungeon imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck imagines #chilchuck tims imagines #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #male reader #m!reader #m! reader

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dearmantis · 1 year

Text

There's no love like our love

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x wife!Reader

Summary: When the Royal Family finally turns on the Grisha, you find yourself caught in the crossfire. Alone, of course. You're always alone, it seems.

Warnings: murder, death, canonical persecution of Grisha, violence, mentioned death of children, sexual harassment, slutshaming, mentions of sex and cheating, suicidal thoughts, self hatred

Word Count: 6.6k words

Authors' Note: I DID IT! HERE IS YOUR PART TWO FOR A LOST EMBRACE! IT ONLY TOOK 76 YEARS! BUT I GOT IT DONE BEFORE THE END OF APRIL (this is also very not edited, and I'm still not a native English speaker).

Also, funfact: I cut the ending of this, just like I did with part 1. There was a whole other ending, but that was basically just a lot of fluff. I wasn't sure if people would want that from this series/twoshot specifically so I cut it. I can't tell of cutting the ending is a good or a really bad habit.

The title is from Lights are on by Tom Rosenthal!

Part 1: A lost embrace | Masterlist

The universe is filled with light. Billions of beautiful stars, all different sizes and temperatures, burning brightly and sending their energy out into the universe to bring warmth and light.

But there is even more darkness in the universe than there are stars, filling the space between the celestial bodies. An all surrounding nothingness that acts as a playing field for all of the beautiful, weird and wonderful things hiding in the endless sky. A canvas for everything else in the universe that hugs and surrounds all.

And one day, at least according to the most popular theories, the last stars will die and the universe will be entirely engulfed in darkness.

It began with a loud burst of light, and it will die quietly in shadows.

That knowledge used to bring you comfort and a feeling of belonging. The darkness became your new home, a special, safe place right next to your husband, but there is no safety and love to be found in the darkness now.

It was predictable, honestly. You should've known the second Vasily allowed the Darkling to travel Ravka to search of the Sun Summoner with only a few First Army soldiers for protection, but you simply didn't pay attention to the signs, too caught up in your own frustration and bitterness.

He didn't realise it either, it seems, because he simply left without even saying goodbye, leaving you behind to run the Little Palace in his absence. One night you fall asleep next to him, back turned towards him to visibly reject his presence, and the next morning he is gone, his side of the bed made and all of his most important belongings gone. No letter, no announcement beforehand, nothing.

Maybe his head was simply too focused on Alina to even remember that he still had a wife.

It doesn't matter anymore.

You're still awake when they come, three nights after the General left the Little Palace.

You're laying in bed, humming an old lullaby – one of the really old ones that you learned because he sometimes sings them to you when you can't sleep – while working on fixing the embroidery on the kefta of one of the younger students.

The disappearance of the Sun Summoner has led to chaos in all of Ravka, and there hasn't been a calm moment in the palace in weeks. You are forced, just like everyone else, to work until you pass out while keeping up appearances in front of the royal family. Everything needs to be immaculate despite the fact that the whole country is in a state of emergency, so you push small detail work like this into every free second of your day in hopes of doing something good.

You're so focused on your project that you don't even hear them approach your windows from the outside.

They sneak around, quietly taking out the guards until they're sure that they won't meet too much resistance, and then, suddenly, everything is very loud.

You don't remember what happens. Just flashes of memories. Little pieces that simply aren't enough to form a full picture, as if your body simply wasn't able to take it all in. Or maybe it refuses to remember.

Glass shatters, loud and unfamiliar steps echo like thunder through the halls of what was supposed to be your home, men with bad intentions are in your bedroom, in your house, in your garden.

And your husband is nowhere to be found.

The air smells like fire, panic and fear crackling in the air like electricity and the screams of the Grisha you swore to protect as if they were your own children echo through the building and outside.

Shots are fired in the distance, you're on the floor, the barrel of a gun pressed tightly against the back of your head.

There are more screams slicing through the night. You think you hear someone yelling your name, but before you can answer, one of the men who broke into your room slams their heavy gun against your head, and darkness welcomes you into it's familiar embrace.

When you finally wake it's to the sound of a gun shot ringing through the air, and though the bars of your new cage you watch through bleary eyes how one of your fellow Grisha runs away, his bright purple kefta unfortunately doing very little to hide his movements between the trees. You can't tell who it is, not in the dark.

A second shot gets fired. You see how it hits the Durast in the head, his body falling to the ground and staying there, unmoving. Nobody goes to check if he's dead or to drag him off and bury or burn his corpse. It's just left right there, next to a large ash tree.

Someone whimpers and sobs, begs for their life, but you can't take your eyes off the corpse. The way it just lays there, like it's nothing.

You haven't seen an actual battle in centuries. The Darkling is too paranoid to let you go, convinced that his enemies will target you in a fight and take you away from him. The thought alone used to turn his eyes cold and hard like ice, his whole body shaking with anger at the idea of you being in a dangerous situation. You haven't seen death like this, so fast and seemingly insignificant, in forever.

There is no triumph visible in the body language of the soldier that shot the Durast, but no shame either. A job done, nothing more. He doesn't celebrate or pat himself on the back. He just sits back down next to the fire in the middle of the camp and takes a sip of water, like the life he just took was worth less than even the life of a rabbit.

The other guards move to check the handcuffs of the others after that incident, making sure that everything works and no one is able to use their powers. Your heart races so fast it makes you dizzy, the fog in your head thickening and threatening to drag you back into unconsciousness.

It's hard to stay focused enough to take the whole situation in, but you try anyway, tearing your gaze away from the corpse. There are nine cages, including yours, one of them now empty.

The Grisha in the cages are, just like you, handcuffed with their hands far apart. Three of them are wearing their keftas - two of them being Alkemis, and you ask yourself if the Materialki were all still down in the workshops when the raid began - but the others, including you, are wearing whatever you wore to sleep that night. All of you are dirty, and you pray silently that none of them are hurt. It's hard to see with the lack of light. The cages all stand a bit too far away from the fire to truly see much.

The men who guard you, on the other hand, all look like they dressed up for a military parade. Their First Army uniforms sparkle almost, their faces clean shaven or decorated with carefully trimmed beards. This was planned. This whole raid was planned, probably for weeks, and you didn't notice. The idea most likely came up as soon as the General returned from the Fold, and no one ever picked up on it.

It feels like a relic from a time you're supposed to have left behind, a time you didn't even experience and only heard about from the Darkling and on rare occasions his mother.

The First Army doesn't hunt Grisha anymore. The king doesn't put you into cages. They just hate you, insult you, and harass you, but they don't physically harm you anymore. Yet... here you are.

Ravka isn't supposed to be like Fjerda, like Shu Han, like Kerch. The Darkling had made sure of that, worked for this one singular goal for centuries, and dedicated his whole life to it.

The thought of him makes your heart sting painfully, and you suppress the urge to worry for him, to wonder where he is and if he's safe. You have bigger issues than him right now. He's fine. There's no room for argument. He has survived wars and centuries of persecution. This won't kill him. He's probably out there somewhere, completely safe, trying to track down his sun summoner while you rot in this cage alongside the others.

After the handcuffs are checked you watch as four of the five soldiers walk to the cages of the two Alkemi, Ivanna and Ole, and pull them out, the fifth still sitting at the fire and watching the whole situation with mild interest.

You hear one of the guards make a suggestion on how to deal with them, and your stomach turns.

In your mind, you are 12 years old, hiding behind your mothers skirt. Her hand rests on your head, trying to soothe you as you watch with the other people your village how a woman gets dragged out of the cage they kept her in. You remember her face. She works as a seamstress. She gives you pretty ribbons to tie around your wrist or into your hair whenever your mother buys something from her.

The man – was he the mayor? The village head? You don't remember what he called himself – who pulled her out of the cage pushes her to the ground, right in front of a large rock, and motions for someone hiding in the crowd to come closer.

Another man steps forward, the blacksmith, in his hands the biggest hammer you have ever seen.

The woman starts screaming now, her voice breaking under the force of her violent sobs. Her body shakes horribly, and your own shaking hands dig deeper into the material of your mothers skirt.

"Please, please, I swear it. This is a misunderstanding. I did nothing wrong. I swear it. Please, just listen to me," the woman begs while the mayor grabs the thick rope attacked to her handcuffs and pulls her arms and hands to rest on the rock.

The noise the hammer made when it slammed down on her hands haunts you for centuries, just like her screams do.

Just like the screams of the Materialki probably will if you survive this when the guards push them to the ground. The only difference is that the soldiers have no large hammers to break their hands.

You can't move, can't speak, can't do anything, completely frozen in fear while the soldiers hold them down, each of them pressing an arm down onto the cold ground. The two have no chance to defend themselves.

The man at the fire finally stands up slowly, grabbing one of the rocks lining the fire to prevent forest fires, and walks over to the six people on the ground.

You watch him do it. You have to. You failed to protect your Grisha, and the least you can do is witness the horrors they have to go through because of your own mistakes.

Because you should've known. You should've known. Of course the royal family would turn on Grisha. Of course they would send the Darkling away before they raided the Little Palace. He is the last line of defence for the Grisha in this country.

You should've noticed the signs. You should've talked to the General about it, maybe even with Baghra. You should've started to prepare to evacuate the whole Palace, organized a place to hide with food and beds and water.

But you didn't. You didn't because you were too blinded by your own stupid quarrel with the Darkling. This is your fault. Every drop of blood that was shed that night, every bit of pain and suffering that your Grisha experienced, clings to you.

It's all your fault.

When the soldiers are sure that they broke every bone in Alkemis' hands, they put the cuffs back on and throw them back into their cages.

And then they walk back to the fire in the middle of the camp and begin to eat, ignoring the sobbing of the Grisha only a few metres away from them and the corpse still peacefully resting between the bushes and trees.

You wake up the next morning with aching muscles and the knowledge that you probably won't get out of this camp alive. Because as much as you would like to pretend otherwise, these people know you. If Vasily gives the command to have you killed, these men know that you're their target. And he would. You can't even blame him for it. You're the wife of the General, just as much of a symbol for the Second Army as the Darkling. Killing you would be a message to all of Ravka.

They don't treat you much differently than they treat the others, to your surprise. You get starved like the others, glared at like the others, and dehydrated like the others.

You could almost believe that they somehow don't know who you are if it wasn't for the insults.

Every Grisha gets insulted, some more creatively than the others. Especially the two Alkemi get made fun of for their broken, swollen, and discoloured hands by the soldiers, like they aren't the reason why they look like that. Other insults directed at other Grisha in the camp, on the other hand, are overused and boring, like when they asked Lena, an Inferni, where her spark is, why her fire has disappeared.

"I thought Infernis are always so hot-headed? Come on, give us a show!" One of the older men in the camp says to her on your second day awake, and it makes your skin crawl. You wish you could claw those mens eyes out, make them bleed.

But the insults they direct at you, those are personal. They prove that they know exactly who you are despite never saying your name once.

The Darklings slut. That's what you are to them.

His favourite toy. A bedwarmer. A plaything. A whore to entertain him. A distraction from the war. A thing he can let his frustrations out on.

That's who you are in their eyes. Nothing more. Certainly nothing that deserves respect or should be feared. The fact that you and the other Grisha can't use the small science makes them braver.

The worst insults are the ones they come up with after the third day in the cage, right after the soldiers get a quick visit from one of Vasilys messengers, because their words are suddenly no longer insults. They are observations and a horrible, new truth that convince you that their earlier insults are true, working hand in hand with the thoughts and fears you had before any of this even started.

"Don't look at me like that, whore. Everybody, even us fools in the First Army, know how enamoured your husband was with the sun summoner. How many times do you think he fucked her before she ran? Probably did it right behind your back in your shared bed, you stupid thing. I bet she was the last thing he thought of before the guards that accompanied him shot him in the head."

The soldiers celebrate the news of the Darklings death like they just won the wars with Fjerda and Shu Han and tore down the Fold with their bare hands, drinking alcohol and eating freshly hunted deer meat while you and the other Grisha grieve and starve. You don't allow yourself to cry like the others, but you can feel your soul rip itself apart.

You begin to lose yourself after that.

Your sanity runs through your hands like sand, your mind desperate to escape the smell of the Durasts rotting corpse that the soldiers never bothered to remove, the insults, the screams of the other Grisha when they get pulled out of their cages (one a day, always only one a day, like they're trying to drag it out), the desperate hunger that burns in your stomach, the thirst that tears your throat apart, the death of your husband: reality in all it's horrible shapes and colours.

First, you spend a few minutes caught up in a nice memory, like a short conversation in the gardens of the Little Palace, drinking tea and leaning on his shoulder while he tells you about his day. Then the daydreams get longer and take more control over you until you spend days staring at nothing, buried so deep in your own mind that you're no longer aware of what happens around you.

A small part of you hopes that they'll kill you while you're in that state, caught up in the past. Everything is better than reality, and with every second that passes when you're fully aware of your surroundings, that reality becomes more unbearable.

You love remembering the time before Alina the most. You know that her only sin is shining a light onto the lies, destruction, and rot surrounding you, but without her light, you were able to pretend.

You are good at pretending.

The light just makes it harder, and sometimes you slip up and accidentally sink into a more recent memory, your mind racing through different thoughts so fast that you're unable to stop it.

Like how the girl whose kefta you repaired that night, little Bibi, probably ended up dying without it after working so hard to prove to everyone that she earned it. And now her corpse lays somewhere in Ravka with no one to take care of it, to lay it to rest.

The kids are easily the worst thing to remember. Every time you do, it feels like the guilt eats your heart or whatever is left of it right out of your chest, ripping and tearing on the muscle like a wolf on a bone.

How many of them got out of the Palace in time and are now hiding somewhere, probably scared and alone with no one to help them and no idea how to get to other Grisha or back to their families? How many of them are stuck in cages just like you, starving and terrified of the First Army men who are only waiting to get the command to kill them? How many of them didn't even make it out of the Little Palace and died at the hand of the soldiers during the raid?

How many children were buried and burned that night?

Your husband isn't much better to remember either. The words of the First Army soldiers burn themselves into your mind like hot coals. You don't want to think about it. You've never wanted to think about something less in your entire life, but no matter what you do, the pain of losing someone you've known for almost your whole life feels like a knife stuck in your chest.

"... guards that accompanied him shot him in the head."

It's odd, really, how all consuming grief can be even if a part of you hates the person you lost. Almost surreal.

There have always been chapters of your life subtitled with "before the Darkling". There aren't supposed to be chapters subtitled "after the Darkling", not even a single one. It's wrong. It's entirely wrong. He's supposed to be a constant. Something that doesn't move, doesn't change, doesn't leave. He was supposed to be here until the end of everything.

He wasn't supposed to leave you behind. You can't do this without him. You can't lose him. This isn't right.

It's the last piece. The last drop required to convince you that giving up might not be the worst option. If they succeeded in killing the Darkling... what can truly be done anymore? What can you do? You can't free the Grisha in your camp, not with your hands cuffed so far apart from each other that your arms regularly start cramping, and a stomach so empty that it feels like your entire body is trying to collapse in on itself to fill the void. You can't convince the soldiers to free you. You can't save the children and rebuild Ravka into a safe place once more, not alone. You can't do anything on your own. You are nothing.

So why shouldn't you die? Why not join your husbands soul, wherever it may be now? What is left for you to do here? What can you do?

Death haunts your sense of smell and vision. It haunts your mind, and it haunts all of Ravka. Why not let it carry you off? Away from the pain, the suffering, the fear and grief and rot.

There is only more to come. More horrors that linger in the unpredictable future, and no one left to fix it. You certainly can't do it, Baghra - if she still lives, that is - doesn't care enough about others to even attempt to fix anything, and the sun summoner evidently can't do it either. All she can do is shine light on the evil lingering in the dark, but she's not strong or persuasive enough to improve and change the nightmares she exposes.

The Darkling could've done it. He would fight tooth and nail, drench his hands in blood and ash to free the others. He has fought his whole life, after all. He could've done it again.

But you can't. You can't take his position in this war, as much as you wish you could. You can't even get your hands out of your stupid cuffs, no matter how hard you try.

Baghra was right in the end, it seems. You really are too weak to stay at her and her sons side as their equal. You are dust, nothing more.

Now that you're here, stuck in a cage and unable to defend yourself in any way, you ask yourself once more how she and her son could've possibly survived this long. How did they not give up? What do they have that you lack?

"When the entire world hates you and wants you dead, the best thing you can do is live."

That's what she said back then, but you simply don't understand how she found the strength to keep going. You can't find it in you, no matter how much you look. Your whole life is gone. Your friends are probably all in cages or dead. Your husband is dead. Your home is gone. There is nothing left, no reason for you to continue.

Your husband would want you to keep going, a voice in the back of your mind answers, and you can feel the sharp stinging in your chest return at the thought.

You miss him. You miss him so much that it feels like you're being torn apart from the inside. And if you're really honest with yourself, you have to admit that you have been in this state for a while.

All of that anger and jealousy was just your bodies way to avoid facing the fact that you were lonely. No wonder you immediately fell back into routine like a desperate little cat when he finally gifted you some attention after Alina fled. Your entire being was begging to get him back.

And now you will never have him again because you were both too stubborn to simply talk with each other. He will never understand how much it hurt to see him obsess over someone else, and you will never know why you suddenly weren't enough for him anymore.

You will never hear his voice again, or knit him a new scarf for winter, or wash his hair for him after an exhausting day. You will never be comforted by him when you have a headache or watch the first snow of the year cover the grass outside of the Little Palace. You will never fall asleep next to him again, his arms wrapped around you and your face pressed against his chest as his heartbeat and calm breathing lull you to sleep.

He will never hug you again or surprise you with breakfast. He will never help you choose jewelry for an event again, give you his cloak when you're cold, kiss you, laugh at your horrible jokes, or moan your name into your ear, his voice raspy with love and desire while he tries to bring you to another orgasm before his own crashes down on him.

You will never do anything with him ever again.

Turning your head slightly, you stare at the soldiers sitting at the fire, eating some form of stew. You can't smell it. The stench of the decomposing body is too strong, and you wonder how the soldiers can stomach food in this environment.

You can barely breathe on some days without gagging every few seconds. It's so horrible that it drives tears into your eyes.

They talk and laugh about some servant girl, and you silently ask yourself what fate the servants of the Little Palace met. How many of them died that night? How many fled? Did any of them try to help the Grisha that might've fled? And saints, what happened to the Oprichniki?

Slowly closing your eyes again, you pray that the wind changes direction and starts blowing the smell away while you try to think of something that gives you strength.

The first thing that comes to mind is your amplifier.

You haven't thought about that day in a while, not since Alina came to the Palace and your heart and soul drowned themselves in jealousy and hate.

But it's not right to forget something so special. You should remember.

Who else in all of Ravka got proposed to, not with a ring but with a barn owl and a knife?

He has been gone for months, looking for something in West Ravka, choosing to trave through Fjerda and around the Fold to avoid going through it, and the constant worry that he would be discovered keeps you awake on some nights. He sends a letter once a month and promises you over and over that he would be back in the spring, but you still end up surprised when one of your friends drags you out of your bed in the middle of the night and ushers you towards the Generals quarters.

And when you open the doors you find him leaning against his desk, a knife next to him on the table and a barn owl sitting quietly in a cage, large eyes looking at you curiously, but you don't even see those things. Not at first, at least.

You just see him.

"You're back!"

Quickly jumping over to him, you throw your arms around him and press your face against him, a deep laugh bubbling in his chest as he moves to embrace you tightly.

"Careful, my love," he murmurs, his hands finding the back of your neck and pressing you closer to him.

You stay like that for a while, holding each other tightly while he whispers soft words into your ear.

"I'm so happy to see you. I missed you so much, little love. I hope you weren't too lonely without me," he coos, pressing a long kiss onto your head.

You're about to answer him when the bird finally makes himself known. Turning your head quickly you look at it, and the owl turns it's head to the side as if it's trying to do assess you carefully as well, it's dark eyes looking you over a few times. You feel a bit self-conscious in your night dress, but instead of shying away, you decide to let it look.

"Is that what you were looking for in West Ravka?" you ask, gazing back up at him.

"I did a lot of research over the past year, and I think this amplifier would be strong enough," he explains, his voice as soft as a feather.

"Strong enough?"

"To keep you with me. I didn't believe it at first either, but this little bird could give you forever. Time would no longer be able to take you from me. I could keep you for eternity."

Tears well up in your eyes, your hands moving to hold onto the front of his kefta as he reaches over to the knife and holds it out to you.

"You don't have to do it right now. You can get to know the owl and see if it feels right. Think about it for a while. It's a big commitment, after all." His empty hand moves up to cup your face, and the tenderness in his gaze makes your heart race. "If you chose the amplifier, I will stay with you. I will be at your side until the end of everything, I promise it. I will take care of you when you're hurt, hold you when you're sad, and laugh with you when you're happy. I will fight at your side, protect you with my life, and take care of you until I die."

Biting your lip weakly, you look up into his eyes, somehow darker than the night sky. "And if I don't choose to take the amplifier?"

"Then I'll still do all of those things. I will just have less time by your side, but I will cherish that time just as much, sweet girl."

You don't know when it happens because you start to loose track of time after the first week is over, but at some point in a random night one of the soldiers goes into the forest to get fresh water from a nearby river and doesn't return.

You're not conscious enough to notice it, and the soldiers are too caught up in their preparations for tonight's entertainment.

You don't even notice how they move through the camp, their eyes looking at each and every grisha they have, and judging who would be able to provide the most fun tonight. You just wish you were lying on the floor.

If you laid down, you could pretend that the heaviness on your chest is your husbands weight and not a heavy mountain of grief that tries to drag you down into the heart of the world.

He liked to do that. Lay on top of you to make sure that every single centimetre of you touched him in some way. You used to jokingly complain about it, but he never stopped. Every time he knew you needed comfort he would lay down on top of you, his heavy, strong body pressing you deep into the mattress while he talked, either asking questions about your day and whatever might be bothering you, or telling you about his, always carefully pressing small kisses onto your face and neck.

He must've known that his weight comforted you, made you feel safe. You've never wanted to be crushed into a mattress by him so badly in your whole life.

You don't hear it when they discuss if you're weak enough now to remove you from the cuffs. You don't even hear it when they open your cage, the old metal screeching loudly.

You don't realize that anything is wrong until one of the soldiers unlocks the cuffs and your body falls to the floor like a wet sack of flour. A loud groan leaves your mouth, your voice rough from lack of use.

The soldier grabs your ankles and drags you out of the cage, your upper body dragging over the floor. After being hung up for so long, you realise very quickly that you can't move your arms at all. The muscles start twitching as soon as you even attempt to bring them together, and a horrible, sharp tingling sensation makes itself noticeable. You bite your teeth together to stop yourself from screaming out.

A wave of panic crashes over you as soon as you fully understand what's going on, trying to kick the man dragging you closer to the fire, but none of your movements seem to really bother him.

As soon as you're close enough to the fire, someone flips you onto your stomach and buries their hand in your hair to pull your head up. Your back bends horribly, and you hiss out in pain as your eyes find those of the soldier who broke the Alkemis hands with a rock.

He doesn't say anything. He just looks at you, eyes taking in every flinch and twitch in your face.

You stay like this for a few seconds staring at each other, when he suddenly spits directly into your face, a wide grin splitting his face into two a few seconds later before he slaps you. Your head drops to the ground quickly.

"Let's get started. Markus can join us later when he's done," someone says. Three seconds later, before you have time to register what he means, you have a small knife in your back.

A blood curdling scream leaves your throat and tears well up in your eyes. You want to beg, to humiliate yourself even further and kiss their shoes in hopes of escaping this, but the last shred of pride left in you won't let you.

One of the soldiers steps onto one of your hands, twisting his shoe a bit in the process to make it hurt more. Someone else grabs your other arm and twists it behind your back until you scream out once more. This time, you scream your husbands name, unable to stop yourself in time. It's a broken, pathetic sound that echoes through the trees like a gunshot.

You know he won't come, but something about saying his name again feels almost cathartic, so you continue to scream it out with your full heart and soul. With every hit, every kick, and every stab wound, you scream the real name of the black heretic out into the endless night and beg death to bring you to him.

When the first gunshots get fired into the forest, you mistakenly assume that they're shooting at you and tightly close your eyes. Your heartbeat rushes loudly in your ears, and your mind replays the events of the first day when the Durast got shot. You can't even stand up and run. Your whole body is consumed by pain.

This is it, you think. Loud screams pierce through the air, gruelling, blood curling screams that scare you half to death.

Your mind races, trying to quickly find a last memory to remember before a bullet pierces your chest or head and kills you, something sweet and soft and perfect, like your wedding night, or your first kiss, or your-.

A loud scream rips itself out of your throat when a bullet hits you right into your leg. The man who shot it is dead seconds later, torn to shreds by darkness itself, but you don't see it, your eyes still rightly closed as you wait for the next bullet to hit you.

It never comes.

Instead someone yells your name, and you think it sounds familiar.

"Ivan!" the man screams, and a second later, someone carefully turns you onto your back and falls to their knees next to you, pulling your head up into their lap, their large hands cupping your face.

You don't want to die. You're not ready.

"My love, my love, it's me. Can you hear me?," he speaks. Fabric ruffles and something wide is dropped over your shaking, weak form, and your whole body feels warm for the first time in days. A familiar scent enters your lungs, somehow overpowering the stench of rotting corpse and fresh blood.

"Sasha?" Squinting your eyes, you look up, trying to focus on the blurry face hovering above yours. He's easy to recognize. The ink black lines over his face are unique to him, almost out of place in this world, just like him. You want to reach up and touch him, but you can't. Your muscles won't cooperate.

"I'm here, my little love. I'm right here. I found you. And I'm so proud of you. So, so proud of you. And I'm sorry," Aleksander answers. His eyes sparkle like stars, tears rolling down his face and dripping onto yours like raindrops. In the back of your mind, you realize that you've never seen him cry in front of people like this before. Only ever in private. Now his voice is almost breaking, his sobs so loud it drowns out the noise of your own hammering heartbeat. It must be a dream. He would never allow himself to show weakness like this.

Ivan appears next to him like a ghost, his hands covered in blood as he carefully lifts the thick black cloak Aleksander covered you with from your legs to look at the injuries there.

"Sasha," you rasp out again. You want him to hold you so badly, but you can barely speak. All you want is to be held by your husband.

"Right here. I'm so sorry, sweet girl. So sorry. I promised I would protect you, and I failed. I'm so sorry, I will never make that mistake again, I swear. I'll never take you for granted again. I'm so sorry for being late."

You want to respond, to calm him down, but he doesn't give you a chance to talk. He just continues with his panicked, slightly hysterical rambling, his whole body shaking under the force of his sobs.

"I'll take care of you. I'll make sure you're safe, and I will never leave your side again. No one will ever hurt you again."

His thumb strokes your cheek gently, and the love in his gaze almost feels like a punch in the gut. He looks absolutely in love and absolutely devastated as well. "I thought I lost you. I kept looking for you in every camp I found, but you were never there, and none of the soldiers would tell me where you are. I was so sure they killed you. I was so scared. I thought-"

Aleksanders voice shatters like glass, his body almost curling in on itself as he presses his forehead against yours. You recognize the breathing pattern he uses, an old trick he taught you a few years ago when you were still new to your position as the Darklings wife. He's trying to stop a panic attack from taking over.

"I'm so proud of you. You're so strong and brave, my darling girl. My lovely wife. I love you so much. You're so good, so good for me. I don't know what I would do without you. What I would do if they... I'm so sorry. I don't deserve you. I'm sorry."

He sounds broken, you notice. You've never heard him like this in your entire life. Tears flood your eyes, and you take a deep breath, more of his familiar scent entering your lungs. Rosemary and ash, with a hint of something sweet.

"I'm never going away again, I promise. I will never leave you again, sweet girl. Never again. You will never be able to get rid of me. I will bind myself to you, body and soul, until the end of everything, I swear it."

You're starting to get dizzy. Everything is so overwhelming.

"Am I dead?" You hear yourself asking, your vision dimming slowly, and you're sure you will be dragged back into unconsciousness by your body soon. Aleksander laughs, and it's oddly light and relieved, considering the context.

"No. No, you're alive. You survived. We both survived."

You smile.

Part 3: So I stayed in the darkness with you

Taglist: @savagejane1 @deadunicorn159

#aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan x reader #darkling x reader

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greythemed · 10 months

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𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ bloodhounds . kim gun-woo

˚ TITLE 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ how is like to date gun-woo part two ˚ WORD COUNT 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ 1770

dating gun-woo consists of you being a lightweight while he has the best alcohol tolerance in the group, consequently making him your babysitter for the rest of the night no matter how much he drinks (this man's tolerance is no joke, we saw it on episode seven).

he IS the type of boyfriend who spoils you like there is no tomorrow. gun-woo is so detached when it comes to money that soon after winning a pay-per-view match (it was his first one after being officially sponsored by your father!) he was ready to deposit the whole freaking 3 billion wones on your account like that was NORMAL.

"but babe, you don't want it?🥺" he says once he is out of the ring, innocent eyes rising accordingly to your patience. "you can buy whatever makes you happy 'cause i want to see you happy". and you're like "NO GUN-WOO YOU CAN'T SPEND YOUR ENTIRE MONEY ON ME". and he be like. "yes i can????".

honestly we should navigate more of that. gun-woo knows the value of money in this world, he knows that it can change some people's lives. but he never once did something to get money for himself. he was always running and fighting for his mother, her café, her safety and her dreams. so when everything was over and he caught himself with a pile of gold in his hands (he helped his mom and there was still much money left!), he didn't know what to do and how to spend it.

that's when you came through and saved gun-woo's life. because again he has something to spend money with, and someone to spoil.

it doesn't matter if you're rich already (your dad is a ceo and you just became a doctor by yourself!), gun-woo's love language is buying you food whenever he goes out. it is your birthday? expect numerous gifts throughout the entirety of the day. he caught you eyeing something in a store for a little more than 4 seconds? boom! new package arriving at your door the following day.

and that goes even before he became a well-known pro-fighter in korea. when he still was only your cousin's friend that min-beom suspiciously kept by his side during difficult times. he wasn't that big on money, you could tell that, but he still was trying to get your attention by buying different snacks on his way to your home.

HE LOVES HIS PILLOW PRINCESS.

each type of gun-woo's hugs has a different meaning and he is so happy that you caught that in the early stages of your relationship. this six feet tall man is hugging you from behind while you're innocently staring at his penthouse's living room's view? that means he's feeling vulnerable and in need of some of your love.

when you feel his arms enveloping your waist and his lips leaving a kiss on your ear? you already know he is feeling excited enough to express his love for you in many different ways.

gun-woo is a loveable person at the end of the day. he needs some validation from time to time and will get clingy if you don't express your feelings for a while. that causes some agitation in your relationship, including arguments about the different love languages both of you have.

sometimes, you think gun-woo is too honest about certain things. the fact that he wears his heart on his sleeve while being a war trunk makes him incredibly dangerous. how do you expect to act around your gorgeous boyfriend while he is a softie on the inside and you know it? you have no option left but to act like a slut.

he points that out someday when you are both alone. "baby, are you okay? you are staring weirdly at me for the past 30 minutes and i'm getting worried".

and you cannot react, otherwise, you'd be ruining your family dinner and jumping that man's bones in the middle of the fancy restaurant while everyone's watching.

even when he is in desperate need of some affection, he doesn't want to disturb you. he doesn't know how this works in the long run, after all. he doesn't feel confident enough to say that out loud. that he needs you at that moment. so you'll have to get pretty good at reading his signs, especially his eyes.

woo-jin's knowledge comes in handy in times like these.

like the first time you met his mother (you were his first ever girlfriend, so he wanted her to like you too!) and he was staring at her the entire afternoon at the café with so much anxiety coming out of him that you had to drag him to the bathroom so he could calm down.

he had the habit of clenching his jaw when he was anxious. "it's okay, baby, i'm gonna be fine, i'm sure she is lovely". you tried to reason with the boxer, constantly having to cup his jaw so he could relax. "i'm sorry, i'm just apprehensive". he replied with those puppy eyes that you'd immediately pout for.

everything went smoothly with his mother and she even made a special dish for you that day! but the second you're alone in your room that night you call woo-jin and ask for some advice on how to deal with your boyfriend's anxieties because who else would know about that other than his marine best friend?!

i'm not done talking about this man's alcohol tolerance because is SO FUCKING SEXY AND FOR WHAT?! i swear on that scene in episode seven, my eyes were glued on the screen every time he took a sip like sir please be my boyfriend????

and even woo-jin was surprised it was so funny to me.

so expect your first club night outs (honestly, gun-woo just came because you asked him nicely) to be completely HORROR for the boxers. the second you started drinking, woo-jin and gun-woo didn't take their eyes off you because they KNOW how YOUR alcohol tolerance is almost non-existent but still you want to have a good time.

like "NO Y/N YOU SHOULDN'T PISS ON A BURNING TO TAKE THE FIRE DOWN BC ITS EASIER". and woo-jin would be SO done with you all the time, glaring at gun-woo every time you said something stupid. he'd be like "this is your phd doctor girlfriend???". and send a dirty look to his best friend.

and on the rare occasions where you don't feel like drinking you can't help but stare intensively at gun-woo's adam's apple bobbing every time he takes a sip from the soju bottle woo-jin challenged him to take (it was indeed a rare occasion) because WHY WAS HE SO HOT?!

and then finishing with the most polite smile and the glossiest eyes you've ever seen like IT WAS NOTHING?!?!?

he looked at you asking what was wrong and you would turn nonverbal for the next 30 seconds before kissing him in front of the bar AND WOO-JIN

nsfw under 😳😳😳

hear. me. out.

at first, gun-woo wasn't the most speaker in bed because - let's be honest - the boy is timid. but the second he sees your reaction when he accidentally lets a whimper slip from his mouth one day, a whole key is turned inside the boxer's brain.

when you're riding him, he entwines your fingers with his, placing kisses on your wrist, your palm or wherever possible and just breathing "you're going to make me lose my goddamn mind, fuck".

you get high from watching him orgasm and vice-versa.

when he comes back up from between your thighs for a breather, for example, his eyes notice your clutched hands at your sides, nails digging into your palm - because he pays attention to every little detail you let it slide, you already know that - and he wasn't having it. leaning down to continue from where he left off, he takes your hands in his and places them on his head, a gesture telling you to just pull his hair already.

this man is timid but he's also a romantic. when i tell you gun-woo needs confirmation from you whenever you are together, i mean at sexy times as well. the moment you start to feel too level-headed and too euphoric and close your eyes, he is fast to turn your attention to his voice so he could guide you.

"no, no look at me baby—keep 'em open. need you to see me, ye?". he grunts and your eyes flicker open once again, obediently following his rules, giving him the eye contact he so desperately craves.

there is a thing we need to talk about gun-woo sizing you up for the first time.

when the realization dawns on you, your eyes almost roll to the back of your head. gun-woo was sliding his length past your clit and up your stomach so far that his balls press against your core. he said it was for 'safety purposes' when you caught him doing it, embarrassment evident on his flaming cheeks and stuttering mouth.

but the second time he does it? you were feral, almost coming right then and there. essentially, he was trying to see just how far in he was going to be, just how deep he was going to fuck you and you clenched so hard around nothing that you had to slap him to stop.

"you can't just do this, gun-woo!". you wanted to curse. "s-sorry", he was caught again, but now not a single drop of shame adorning his features. by the looks of it, he was smirking.

cursing? let's talk about that.

you knew you dated an angel so to speak. but the whole angelic persona gun-woo carried on his daily basis was left at the door when he was alone with you. cursing? he did on rare occasions, maybe when woo-jin went too far with a joke about his mother or when he pressed his little finger on the car door while rushing to the gym.

but never with you.

so imagine your surprise when the first string of 'fucks' slipped past this man's lips when he entered you for the very first time. and then the constant self-control he needs to collect when you are too far in orgasmland and whisper dirty things in his ears.

"feel too full woo", you moan absentmindedly and gun-woo lets out a heavy breath, dropping his head down so your foreheads can touch.

"god—fuck—you can't say shit like that, princess". he warns.

i began to pass out and my head hit the wall boom!

i am not proud of this one (sorry for any misspellings, this is not proofread!) and i'm sorry for ending this here hahahahahah leaving y'all dry and wanting because that's what life is about!!! (suffering) THANK YOU ALL FOR THE KIND WORDS YOU GUYS ARE THE LOVELIEST <33

#honestly i dont deserve such kind readers! thx #kim geun woo x reader #kim gun woo #bloodhounds fanfic #bloodhounds #bloodhounds kdrama #bloodhounds x reader #bloodhounds netflix #woo do hwan

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arealphrooblem · 1 year

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Mutually Assured Destruction Part 11 -- The End!

This is the last part everyone! I may right little snippets after this one if the inspiration strikes, but this is the definitive end to the series.

Synopsis: Villain x Civilian. Civilian can sense other people's powers through auras but hides this ability. They are terrified of the most boring person at their office job, who hides the most powerful aura Civilian has ever felt.

CW: Mentions of death, low self-esteem thoughts, brief vague mention of sex at the end, two kisses

Part One Here

Part Ten Here

At first, they thought he was sick. Jonathan didn’t ever give them a cell phone number, so they couldn’t call and check on him. By Wednesday they drove round for three hours after work, trying to find the neighborhood that housed his apartment, with no luck. By Friday, worry stayed a constant pit in their stomach.

Monday morning brought the news that Jonathan had “transferred” to another in another part of the country. Civilian had to suffer all day through the cloying sympathy of their coworkers. Gloria had even hugged them. Everyone assumed a breakup occurred so horribly awkward that it drove Jonathan to move several hundred miles away a week before the holidays.

For the rest of December, Civilian kept up religiously with the news, looking for something big enough to fit the plans Jonathan had hinted at — massive art theft, large scale arson, hell even a government coup.

There was nothing save for constant Christmas ads that Civilian tuned out.

Eventually they had to accept the truth that Jonathan had just got the fuck out of dodge and didn’t look back. Fine. Civilian knew their ‘relationship’ had an expiration date, that it had never existed in the first place. But they had expected some kind of goodbye, even if it had been a threat to stay quiet — not this slipping away in the dead of night like a ghost.

Maybe his plans fell through and he had to leave before someone else discovered him. Maybe the Agency had found him despite his best efforts and he had to abandon everything. Both scenarios were more likely than the one echoing cruelly in Civilian’s head at night:

That they had driven him away; that he couldn’t take their needy loneliness anymore and bounced.

It’s a thought that hounded them for the next six months, followed them as closely and loyally as their own shadow. As the weeks drifted by, Civilian burrowed further and further inside themselves, rejecting offers from Gloria to eat lunch, rejecting their mother’s requests to call or visit, rejecting drinks after work with the other members of their department.

It wasn’t that Jonathan broke their ability to trust anyone — it was the stubborn, naive belief that if Civilian chose to be alone then they weren’t lonely, that it didn’t count because it was self-imposed, a choice, a preference. And being around other people reminded them so sharply of feeling not alone that they couldn’t handle its absence once the night was over.

The whole thing was ridiculous, and Civilian berated themselves at each night for it. They were acting childish and silly. Jonathan was right: the only thing stopping them from having friends was their own fear. They could find a new job, move to a new city, find a place where Jonathan had never set foot in and build anew.

But they didn’t.

And six months later, the bank went under.

Ironically, the one thing Civilian needed to watch the news for, they had ignored in favor of a Buzzfeed shopping list. Their mom had sent a text with a link to a video and a series of question marks.

Isn’t this your bank????

The video explained how the entire board of directors had been arrested for fraud and embezzlement to the tune of billions.

Billions with a B.

After that number, Civilian’s attention went a little fuzzy. The explanation of the complex series of fund transfers and shell corporations and blah blah blah faded to the background as Civilian tried desperate to work out just how the hell Jonathan made it happen.

Over the weeks, each man screamed his innocence of course, but camera footage and witness testimonies — even ones from the other board directors, all eager to stab each other in the back — denied those claims. Each director passed a psych test with flying colors, despite their protests of their body moving with out their consent. It all looked very much like a bunch of disgustingly wealthy men got caught trying to illegally make themselves even more disgustingly richer.

After a certain point, Civilian could have spoken up about Jonathan, and no one would have believed them anyway.

It was the perfect crime and now Jonathan was walking out there will several billion dollars in his pocket and Civilian . . .

Well Civilian was now out of a job, living off a pathetic severance package, and trying to find a solution to their problem that did not involve moving back in with their mother.

It happened in the middle of the night. The ear-popping pressure of a powerful aura dragged them from sleep. In the soft darkness of their bedroom, they could just make out a shadowy figure looming over them.

In seconds confusion crystalized sharply into fear. Civilian’s hands dove under the pillow for the knife they kept there and yanked it out. Their hand froze in the air, gripped by invisible fingers Civilian knew all too well.

“Did you just pull a fucking knife on me?” The figure asked incredulously.

The familiarity of his voice hit them like a physical ache, like a thumb on a bruise.

“Jonathan?”

The lamp switched on, bathing the room in a dim glow. Civilian squinted and blinked against the sudden light. Standing there, eyebrows raised and dressed in all black, was Jonathan Anderson.

The knife gleamed between them. He glanced between it and Civilian and shook his head.

“You should give me that before you hurt yourself.”

He took the knife gently out of their forcibly relaxed fingers and set it on the nightstand, far out of their reach.

Their chest was a swirling maelstrom of too many emotions to count — joy and fear and anxiety and relief.

But most of all anger.

How dare he just show up after ten months of nothing.

“You should go fuck yourself,” they retorted, sitting up and swinging their legs over the side.

“Awww, Civilian, did I upset you by leaving?” He gave them a mocking frown. “Did you miss me?”

The truth of his words pierced them, sending a hot flush of humiliation up their neck.

“No, I did not miss you, you sick on of a bitch — ”

Jonathan bent down, cupping their face in his hands and cutting them off with a fierce, almost desperate kiss.

“I missed you,” he breathed. “So fucking much.”

Civilian’s heart pounded like thunder in their ears. How often did they daydream this kind of moment happening, and yet now that it was here, they couldn’t help but doubt it. It felt dangerous to believe it.

“How am I supposed to believe that?” they demanded. “For all I know, you could be here to kill me and — and tie up loose ends.”

Jonathan had the gall to laugh. “Where do you think we are — a mobster movie? Do you think I’m going to tie cinder blocks to your legs and throw you off the pier?”

“You wouldn’t need the cinder blocks to make sure I drowned,” they said mulishly. “You wouldn’t even need a pier. You could make me smother myself right now with my own pillow.”

Why they were arguing this, they had no idea. Perhaps stubbornly clinging to the belief that he didn’t care about them protected them from hope. Jonathan’s grin faded into something more somber as he studied them. Then he slowly sank down on one knee before them, putting him at just under eye level.

“Why would I come here to kill you after everything I’ve done to protect you?”

“Protect me? Is that what you calling taking off with no goodbye like I didn’t mean anything?”

“Tell me, Civilian, how suspicious it would have looked if I had stolen all that money and then skipped town? How many people would be scrutinizing the newest hire that suddenly disappeared and anyone who associated with him? How long before the Agency would come sniffing around, looking for someone with my skill-set, and find you and your glorious little secret? Hmm? Tell me.”

Civilian glared at him and his tight, unbeatable logic. How dare he make sense.

“Some warning would have been nice,” they said instead, crossing their arms. “I thought I had — that you ran because — ”

They couldn’t finish the thought, it was too embarrassing. How stupid they had been, obsessing over a silly kiss, when Jonathan was executing such grand larceny on an unheard of scale. Like he had even spared it a second thought.

He gave them a knowing, crooked smile. “You thought I took off because you kissed me and I flipped out.”

“No,” they lied. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It is ridiculous,” he agreed. “It’s the one thing that made it hard to leave in the first place. And I couldn’t let you know, in case someone did question you. You were my insurance, not my accomplice.”

The one thing that made it hard to leave. Staying angry at Jonathan was getting more and more difficult. Civilian tried to hold onto it, but it slipped through their fingers like an eel.

“So the bank . . .that really was you?” they asked.

This time his smile widened into a full smirk. “Beautiful, wasn’t it?”

“Beautiful? It fucked over a lot of people — including me! I’m out of a job now, you prick.”

He shrugged. “People will move on just like they always have. As for you . . .that’s why I’m here.” He reached out and traced the pad of his thumb down their jawline. “To spirit you away.”

Civilian fought and failed to hold back a shiver at the light touch. “You mean kidnap me.”

“It’s only kidnapping if you don’t volunteer for it,” he said. “You’re being very stubbornly angry with me. You must have missed me quite a bit.”

They swallowed thickly. “I hate you,” they lied.

He smile, soft and gentle, his thumb swiping over their bottom lip. “You wish you did.”

Civilian’s pulse fluttered. They wanted very badly to kiss his thumb, his hand, anywhere they could reach. “And where would you take me?” they whispered instead.

Jonathan turned his hand so the back of his knuckles brushed over their cheekbone. “Where do you want to go? I have more money than God, Civilian. We can go anywhere in the world and disappear and never have to look over our shoulders again. What say you to that?”

“What happens if I say no?”

As tempting as his offer was, they had to ask the question, regardless. His answer determined everything.

“You will never have to see me again,” he said, taking his hand away. “And I will find a way to anonymously give you enough money to do whatever you wish in a way that can’t be traced. With me or without me, you will have the same freedom from the Agency that I do. I had planned for that for a long time.”

Whatever resentment for their months alone evaporated in an instant. This time Civilian took his face in their hands and kissed him, long and fierce.

“Take me to Greece first,” they said. “I want to see the ruins.”

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#my writing #hero x villain #villain x civilian #enemies to lovers #writeblr #mutually assured destruction

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