#more graphic than usual anyway so just in case

[softquietsteadylove]

Hiiiii could I ask a fic of a ghost face fic with the eternals I loved Scream and I would die to read Thena and Gil in a situation or a storyline like that!🥹😍🖤🖤🖤

(Happy birthday my dear, sweet @dalhia28! You have been such a supporter of mine from the beginning and I am always happy to see you around)

"Sersi," Thena hissed at her, gripping the Elemental Eternal's shoulders as she cried, "there's no time for that."

"Thena," Sersi sniffled, reeling from the idea that not only was their reunion with their family a stage for Ikaris' betrayal of them, but now he was picking them off one by one. "I-I can't-"

"You can," Thena said more resolutely than she could really feel at this time. But they didn't have the luxury of time--not to grieve for Ajak, or Sprite, or Kingo. "We have to."

Thena pulled Sersi to her feet. The statue of Arishem was too open an area. Ikaris could be silently floating around anywhere in the labyrinthine ship. They were at a disadvantage being split up from one another.

She had to find Gilgamesh.

They were all scattered around the ship while they were conceiving their plan. Thinking about it now, perhaps that too was part of Ikaris' plan. Maybe all this time he had been watching them like a predator, thinking to himself how weak his family was and how easy it would be to hunt them just like Deviants.

Thena kept Sersi close to her, her shield in front of them and her blade in her hand. It would be held aloft, ready to be swung. But Sersi was clinging to her hand like a trembling child.

She couldn't be angry with her--the poor thing had watched the man she loved - her ex-husband - shoot down their own right in front of them. He had told them himself of the murder of their leader and 'mother' by his own hand.

No one would blame Sersi for her tears.

Thena stopped, pressing Sersi's back to the wall with her. The corridors of the Domo were narrow, barely wide enough for two people.

Ikaris passed by.

He never was the best hunter of them. His vision was good, but he was too arrogant to make full use of his hearing, the way they were all able to feel the air bend around them.

Thena squeezed her eyes shut as the air compression and sound of Ikaris firing his lasers sounded one hallway away. The wall he was aiming at clearly relented against the force. Sersi flinched.

"Come on out," his accent drawled as he floated through the new door he had made for himself. He was moving away from them, but it was undeniable that the echo of his sinister tone felt right on top of them. "I'll make it quick, love. For old time's sake."

What a wretched man he was. The Soldier Eternal no longer, nor even an Eternal brother, now he was just Arishem's little murderer.

Thena brought Sersi with her by the hand, although she was highly aware of the sounds Sersi made when she moved. Her clothes made sound, her shoes did (Thena was still barefoot), she wore a pendant that dangled loosely around her.

She still had to find Gilgamesh.

He was somewhere deeper in the ship, healing from the fight in the Amazon. She had to get to him before Ikaris did. If he was able to be woken from his healing, perhaps he could even help them try to move the rest of them to the healing bay. At the very least, their bodies.

Thena paused at every corner, listening for every wisp of air, every moan of the Domo's metal body, every possible sign of movement. She nodded to Sersi.

Sersi's tears were dried, which was already admirable. Sersi was always the one with the most human heart, but it couldn't be said that she was weak in any way. If anything, how human she could be at times was something that made her stronger than most, Thena would say.

Thena nodded her head, telling Sersi to find refuge in Phastos' lab, just outside the healing bay with his equipment. She might find refuge in the greentank, which could offer organic material for her to connect to (it might calm her to be around material she couldn't transmute).

The healing pods were humming, one in particular engaged and glowing gently. Thena dispelled her Cosmic Energy into the air, walking over to it.

Her sweet Gilgamesh.

He had nearly given his life to save her in the rain forest. She would have done the same for him, of course, but it didn't make watching it any easier. And here they thought their worries were over after killing that monstrosity.

The monstrosity they had thought killed Ajak.

Thena knelt down to the pod, tilting her head at the image of him. His face was so still. The lights blaring on his face in the echochamber gave distinct lines and bends to his face. She raised her hand slowly, her fingers nearly trembling at the tips.

Her hand went right through him.

"Thena!"

"Gil!"

Of course. Of course he hadn't been able to kill them all going so undetected. Not even Ikaris could be in two places at once. They had seen him shoot Kingo, and then found Sprite's body, seeing the blood. But seeing meant little when it came to the Illusionist Eternal.

"Easy, Thena," Ikaris muttered, his arms locked around her head and his elbow driven into her. "You know very well not even your thick skull can withstand me at point blank range."

Gilgamesh knew it too, revealed from under Sprite's shroud with a knife to his throat. They were each other's insurance policy--Gil and Thena would never do anything to endanger one another.

Ikaris had always been behind Thena, his eyes focused on her. Sprite had rushed right to the healing bay and woken Gilgamesh with the knife ready, telling him that if he made one wrong move, they would toss Thena's body at his feet.

The perfect hostages.

"Gil," Thena managed to squeak out as Ikaris held her head. If she were human her neck would have already snapped. She could feel the heat building in his eyes against her hair.

"Please," Gil whimpered. He was softer than she was--he had no problem begging and pleading with their assailants for her life. "Let her go. I'll help you."

"Shut up," Sprite's once light and lyrical voice barked at him. "We don't need your help--we don't need anyone!"

Oh, Sprite, of course. Kingo had been right, in his oddly perceptive way of seeing the world through his own lens. Sprite, the unseen and even worse the unacknowledged.

"Tell us where the point of emergence is," Ikaris directed Thena, his eyes both on the back of her head and on Gil and Sprite by the door. "I don't care who. You tell us, we'll spare the other one."

"Thena!"

"Don't move!"

Thena's ear was ringing after Ikaris shouting in it. But Ikaris' lasers were far too deadly, and even with too many targets to look at, it would take a fraction of a second for him to kill all of them.

"Not a muscle," Ikaris glared at Sersi, completing the triangle between Ikaris holding Thena and Sprite blocking off Gilgamesh. She held her hands out, having skidded to a halt at the sight of that familiar and menacing glow. "Or I'll fire straight through both of 'em in one shot."

He could, and they all knew he was capable of it.

Thena's mind raced. They were limited on options. Ikaris wanted the point of emergence, and killing them was merely...a series of steps for him. She could tell him, doom humanity, and for all she knew, still not see Gilgamesh's life spared. The same could be said if he bent first.

"Please," Sersi whispered. Her tears returned. "Please don't do this."

She looked at Ikaris, who had far too many balls in the air. His stance kept shifting as he held Thena's head tight. His eyes cooled slightly, "just tell us, Sersi. Just...you could come with us."

Sersi shook her head faintly, baffled and probably disgusted that he would ask that.

"No, she can't!"

Thena moved her eyes from Gil's teary ones to Sprite's suddenly enraged expression. This could work.

"You said it was just gonna be us!" the small Eternal spat, although rather than point at Ikaris in her rage her hand twitched, jabbing Gil in the neck just a little harder.

Thena flinched but Ikaris' grip held strong as well.

"Sprite," he growled at her.

"No! No, you said Sersi wasn't coming with us!" Sprite continued in her accusations. She glared at her sister, "you're ruining this!"

Sprite was just as old as the rest of them, and yet she really could embody that youth that kept her mind tireless and which Ajak had adored so.

"Sprite!" Ikaris repeated. Things were unravelling, "keep it together!"

"No, you said-!" Sprite whirled around at her partner in crime--the love she had who convinced her to turn on their family. She pointed the knife at him.

Thena let her knees go, dropping from Ikari's hold rather than wrestling free. She slipped away. Gil launched forward knocking Sprite's hand out of his way.

Ikaris fired but Gil called his exoskeleton over him, the same way Thena could hold a shield. He landed a punch to his face, shattering bone the way a bullet would.

"Sersi!" Thena called out, but Sprite was already lunging at her.

Sersi moved instinctively. Her body was designed to recognise the makeup of any material it touched--to react and reformat it. Her hand came up to block the knife, but all it did was fade to water and splash onto the floor around them and into their clothes.

"You bitch!" Sprite raged at her. She'd had enough.

Sersi pressed her palm to Sprite's soaked shirt. She could turn steel to water, why not water back into steel?

Sprite's body jerked as the water collected and, while not much, reformed a blade within her skin. She choked on the air in her throat, "S-Ser..."

The Alchemist scrambled back from what she had done. She looked from the bloodied body of their sister to Ikaris, whose head was half caved in from taking a direct hit from the Strongest Eternal. She looked away.

Thena and Sersi helped each other stand. Gilgamesh came over, bending over their smaller frames and placing his hands gently on their shoulders. The night was over.

"I-I can't-" Sersi shook her head, looking at the body of Sprite splayed on the floor, eerily similar to the staging of earlier. "I didn't-"

"No one did," Thena finished for her, pulling her sister's head closer to her. No one saw their betrayal coming, and no one wanted things to turn out like this, either. No one thought they could kill their own family.

Sprite sprang up.

Gilgamesh pulled them back, Sersi held her hands up and Thena materialised her shield. It happened in two seconds. But a glow of gold flew through the air, clean through the smallest Eternal's body from behind.

Kingo gripped the door frame, his shooting hand dropping heavily as his side continued to bleed from Ikaris' earlier inflicted wound. He looked at what remained of his family, "rough night, huh?"

#Thenamesh AU #I hope you like it my darling I have done my best! #tw graphic violence #more graphic than usual anyway so just in case #at first I thought about a modern au #but then I thought what if...canon...but horror? #in the art of eternals there's a bit where they say that the scene in the rainforest has some very horror coded tones to it #which I love for us #so I thought why not go with it #also I just saw it's your birthday so this works out #Ikaris being ghostface because he's so bitter and full of rage #he doesn't have any problem killing his family #for the mission and all that #Sprite of course is happy to go with him #I thought about it being Kingo because that would be more like the original movie but y'know #also Thena should be barefoot and I really think she wasn't for filming reasons or whatever #but it makes sense with her vibe and her wardrobe and her character #so as far as I'm concerned she's barefoot whenever possible #I wanted to keep that element of horror #that moment when you realise it's not just one hunter but two #I liked the idea of Sprite using her illusions more practically #a shot of Thena's face and there's nothing behind her #but you could slowly swing around and then from behind you see Ikaris looming over her and Sprite's illusion between them #I wanted to keep the stabbing from the movie and Sersi turning it to water #the little tidbit about her being more relaxed around materials she can't transmute #being a little foreshadowing to how she reacts reflexively #and Sprite would have known that if she weren't totally off the deep end #sorry Druig I gave your 'rock' moment to Kingo #what a night indeed

[libraryofloveletters]

chapter eight: lucky doesn't cover it

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: honeymoon stage, seb is so cheesy and soooo touchy, it's like two teenagers in love really, nsfw themes but nothing graphic, suggestions to sex and nsfw content, liv and millie are so sus of you two, the lies are catching up to you two, secrets are told, family sweetness. - this is low-key a filler chapter, I have drama next chapter *smiles evilly*

Word Count: 3.1k

Author’s Note: sorry for the 4 million year wait, y'all know I love me some seb so hopefully this makes up for the lack of seb lately. don't blame me, tell that man to come out of hiding again!

sugar and spice; all things nice masterlist

---

It has been a few weeks since your first date with Sebastian and things were going well, beyond well actually. You couldn't have asked for a better version of things to unfold.

The two of you had begun dating but decided to keep things quiet, especially from Olivia and Amelia. Neither of you wanted to complicate things for the girls, wanting to keep things as they were in case it didn't work between you two, god forbid.

Liv and Milly were currently in the pool at your place, you had brought lunch out onto the back deck and Sebastian was keeping an eye on them while they were in the pool. The door creaks, Seb glances over his shoulder to see you coming out with a pitcher of juice, setting it down on the table with the food you had brought out moments before.

You leant over slightly, pouring some juice into the cups for the girls when your knee brushes against Seb's thigh. His black shorts left his legs on display and typically, you'd regard his legs as just.. legs but something about Sebastian was different now, you weren't sure if it was because now he was your man or if you had been so pent up and now that you'd getting a chance to release it, it's hitting you at once.

Seb's forearm lays on the arm rest, fingers creeping up the back of your thigh to the hem of your shorts. Almost leaning into his touch, Olivia's voice pulls you from the thoughts in your head.

"Is lunch ready, mama?!" She shouts from the pool.

Clearing your throat, you nod. "Yeah!" You reach behind to swat Seb's wandering hand away, throwing him a glare as you pick up the towels and walk over to help the girls out of the pool.

The man watches as you wrap the towels around the girls, sending them off in the direction of the table to eat and he can't help but smile; how did he ever get so lucky ?

Olivia and Amelia sit across from Seb, the two of them joint at the hip like baby penguins waddling about. The only chair left was the one next to Seb, it had become your usual spot anyways.

The 4 of you chatted, the girls updated you both on class trips, projects and the drama between Susan B and Susan H. Seb was more intrigued than you as you had heard the rundown when you picked them up from school on Friday.

A warm hand rests on your thigh under the table, startling you momentarily. You look over to see if he was trying to get your attention, but he wasn't. "Does Susan B know that Susan H held Josh's hand on the playground?" He asked the girls, clearly caught up in the drama of second grade.

Amelia corrects him. "It was Susan H that held Josh's hand, dad. Susan B was boyfriend girlfriend with Josh first."

"And Susan B saw all of it happen while she was on the swings too," Olivia adds, making sure to emphasize on her words for dramatic effect.

You smile, shaking your head at the second grade drama as your hand rests atop Seb's, fingers interlocking over his. The man squeezes your thigh softly as his thumb rubs gently over your skin.

Lucky doesn't begin to cover it.

--

"Milly!" Olivia shouts, pulling on your hand as you locked the car. You see the blonde girl and her dad, both of their curls unruly and sparkling under the morning sunshine.

Amelia smiles, shouting back. "Liv!"

Sebastian lets his little girl when he sees you with Olivia, knowing you'd stop them from running into the busy parking lot. The two girls wrapped each other in a hug, Milly says good morning to you and you smile, saying it back. You followed closely behind them as you attempted to put Milly's hair into a ponytail while they walked, knowing they had gym class and having her hair in her face would bother her.

"Good morning, Mr. Seb!" Liv smiles at the man, Seb pinches her cheek softly. "Morning sweet pea," he says back with a smile.

The girls were whispering about something, perhaps the fact that Josh was giggling with Susan H today instead of Susan B. Seb nudges your shoulder, leaning into you slightly. "Morning you."

"Good morning Sebastian," you glance at him, knowing better than to start him up before he doesn't stop.

His hand rests on his chest, feigning hurt. "Sebastian? You wound me, woman."

"I try my best," you smiled, turning your head to look at him. Sebastian leans into you, his lips by your ear. “You look nice. I like your top,” he gestures to his chest, his fingers brushing over his sternum - just as he did months ago when you helped him with Milly's bedroom.

The action causes you to look down, your top had slipped a little bit when you grabbed Olivia's bag out of the car.

You roll your eyes, swatting his arm playfully before readjusting your shirt. "Behave, there are children here."

"There are children at home too, but we've done dirty things there too-" "Dad!" Milly shouts, getting her dad's attention. "Did you put my water bottle in my bag?"

"It's in your lunch bag, kiddo." He tells her, fixing the strap on her bag. "Now you two are gonna be late if you don't get your butts down to line up."

The girls hug each of you, switching to hug the other and then run off to line up for entry. You and Seb waved to them from the sidewalk before you head back to the parking lot, his hand resting on your lower back as you walk. HIs hand slipped lower and lower by the second until you stepped away.

Your back is against the pickup, looking at your boyfriend - that's such a funny term. You didn't think at your age, with a 7 year old kid that you'd have a boyfriend again. It seems unreal to you, both in a good way and a bad way.

"Do you have work today?" He asks, noticing you've taken the truck and not your car.

"Yeah, gotta drop by the construction site today."

"What time are you off?"

"Noon-ish probably, I hope. You know how it goes with them," you shrugged. Seb nods, "the girls are staying at school for lunch today, sooo... why don't you come by after you're done work?"

"Are you gonna cook me lunch then, Sebastian?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't a big cook but there were a few recipes that he had perfected and liked to make.

He shrugs, making a face. A hand resting behind your head, caging you in between him and the truck. "Figured we could order from your favourite Italian place."

"As nice as that sounds, you know how slow they are. It'll take them forever to deliver."

Sebastian's got a wicked grin on his face, something dirty on the tip of his tongue just waiting to be said. He leans in, lips by your ear. "There's a way we can pass the time."

If you hadn't gotten what he was suggesting before, his lips on your neck gave it away. "Sebastian!" You giggled, pushing him away. "Stop it before we get in trouble."

"We don't go to school here, it's fine."

"We have kids that go here though, and I have work. I need to go before you make me late."

"You're no fun," he tells you, pouting like a child as you get into the truck, your door still open as you look at him. "Stop pouting, you doofus. Come gimme a kiss so I can go," your hand stretched out for him.

Seb smiles, reaching up to give you a kiss before you let him go. "Have a good day, I'll see you after."

"Drive safe," you tell him, shutting the door. You wind down the window. "Not like a formula one driver!"

"I'll try my best!" He shouts, "no promises!"

You rolled your eyes, smiling as you pulled out of the parking lot.

--

Clothes scattered on the floor, your heels kicked off on the steps on the way up to Seb's bedroom and your purse long forgotten by the front door.

"C'mere," Seb grabs your arm, pulling your back flush against his chest. His warmth kept you snuggled into him, not wanting to move anytime soon.

"We really do need to get up."

"What for?" He asks, peppering kisses along your shoulder. You roll your eyes, "you ordered food and frankly, I'm starving."

"Yeah?" He says, you can sense the shit eating grin on his face. "Wonder why you're so hungry."

"Oh hush," you reach back, smacking his cheek softly. "I had work, don't think so highly of yourself."

Seb laughs, untangling himself from you when the doorbell rings. "As if you summoned them, honey." He pulls his shorts on, grabbing his wallet off of the nightstand.

You roll over, grabbing his hand. "I have to go," he tells you and you pout, making a face. Seb smiles, leaning down to kiss your head. "I'll be back in two seconds, and I'll have your chicken parm so you'll love me even more."

"Yeah," you chuckled, leaning back. "Fine."

Seb laughs, leaving you in bed to go get the delivery from the guy. You decided that pasta was too messy to eat in bed so you got dressed, meaning you borrowed Seb's shirt and made your way downstairs.

"Sleeping beauty emerges," he jokes and earns another eye roll from you. The two of you find your way to the kitchen, as you do most times, grabbing what you need before making your way to the table.

It was a very domestic scene; sitting at the table, eating as you discussed what the girls had in school that week. As if you had been married for years.

"I have to get dressed," you announce, getting up as Seb took the empty plates to the kitchen. "What for?" He glanced at you, rinsing the plates out to put them into the dishwasher.

"We have to pick up the girls."

"I'll pick them up, you rest."

"You're sure?" You asked and Seb nodded, "100%, you stay and relax." He kisses you softly, hands cupping your cheeks.

You smile and nod, following him to the door. "Where are you going?" Seb asks.

"I'm going to get dressed."

The man looks at you clearly confused, he had already told you to stay and relax and that he would pick up the girls.

"They can't come home to see me wandering around here in just your shirt, they don't need to see that."

"I do," he raises his eyebrows, a cheeky grin on his face. "Sebastian behave," you groaned, rolling your eyes playfully at his childishness. He smiles, putting his hoodie on before grabbing his car keys.

"I'll see you when I'm back," he tells you, giving you a kiss before heading out.

The drive to the school was normal, 5 minutes and he's parked, waiting for the two girls to come out. The teacher sees Sebastian, waving to him as he signals that he's taking both Milly and Liv home today. It's nothing unusual that you and Seb take turns picking up the girls, it's just whoever was free or closer. Most times Seb picks them up as you're usually at work.

Milly's holding one of his hands and Liv is holding the other, the 3 of them walking back to his car. "Mr. Seb? Where's mom?" Liv asks him, the man looks at her puzzled for a moment.

"Uh she's at our place."

Milly and Liv exchange a confused glance as they climb into the car. "What's she doing there?" Milly asks her father, clearly curious.

"Well, she was running late on her way back from work so I told her I'd pick you guys up and meet her at home."

The answer seemed to curb their curiosity for the time being, Seb driving home with the girls. Your truck parked on the road as you were always certain you'd crash into Seb's car if you pulled into the driveway.

The girls were held expecting you to get out of the truck but Seb instead led them to the front door, unlocking it to let them in. "Hi girls!" You called, stepping out of the kitchen. You had gotten redressed while they were gone, much to Sebastian's dismay.

"Hi mama," Liv says, glancing at her best friend. "Mr. Seb said you were running late from work."

"I was," you tell her, glancing at Seb. The man shrugs from behind the girls as if to say he needed an excuse.

Milly or Liv seemed to be buying the lame ass excuse you and Seb - mostly Seb- came up with. "How'd you get inside?" Milly asks you, knowing her dad had just unlocked the front door.

This story wasn't adding up.

Seb clears his throat. "Why don't you two go get a snack, you can have candy if you want. There's Kit Kat in the pantry." He tells them, the girls drop their bags by the stairs and go running to the pantry.

You look behind you to make sure the girls are gone before walking over to Seb. "Really? I'm running late but I'm in the house? You couldn't come up with something better?" You whispered to him.

The man shrugged, "they're like mini detectives, all scary and judgey. I had to say something!" he whisper shouts to you, "we need to tell them."

"Already? It's too soon."

"We're together all the time, babe. I can't keep kissing you in secret." He says, a look feigning exhaust from the lack of kisses on his face.

You sigh, nodding. "Fine," your hand cups his cheek, kissing him softly. "Let's go."

"Girls?!" Seb calls for them, "can you come here? Y/n and I want to talk to you!"

The girls come in, chocolate on their faces and fingers. You grab a tissue and wrap their faces and hands as they sit on the couch, you and Seb are across from them on the other couch. "What is it?" Milly asks, looking between you and Seb.

"Well," you start, looking to see if Seb wants to speak but he signals for you to go ahead; typical men. "How would you two feel if.. Mr. Seb and I started.. well, seeing each other?" You asked them, the girls both have a confused look on their faces.

They exchange a glance, "what does that mean?" Milly asks, her brows furrowed; the splitting image of her father.

"It means they kiss!" Liv tells her, her hand over her mouth as she giggles. Milly makes a face. "Ew! Cooties!" She giggled, her and Olivia making faces at each other.

You and Seb exchange a look, trying not to laugh.

"It does mean we kiss," Seb says, "but it means we like each other."

"Like how we like each other?" Liv asks, "like best friends?"

"Sort of," Seb smiles, "it's more like when two grown-ups really like each other in a special way. They care about each other a lot, like how friends care about each other, but with even more love."

"So super duper best friends," Liv says, making you laugh.

"Basically, yeah. How do you guys feel about that?" You asked, not wanting to leave any stone unturned.

"Does this mean we're.. sisters?" Milly asks, "cause you're Liv's mom and you're my dad so you're mom and dad.."

"I guess," you say, looking at Seb for some help. "I mean, yeah. You are sisters."

The girls giggle, "cool!" They happen to say at the same time and get up, coming over to hug you and Seb. You smile, "we've got to head home, sweetheart. You can come by tomorrow if you want."

She makes a sad face but nods, her and Milly walking to the door to gather Liv's stuff when Seb pulls you up from the couch and into a hug. "See? Was that so hard?"

"Shut up," you huffed, the man laughed as you two walked to the front door.

You watch as the girls hug each other bye, Milly comes over to give you a hug and you lean down to hug her back. Seb kisses Liv's head before turning to you, giving you a kiss.

"Ew!" The girls chorus, making the two of you laugh.

You and Olivia head home, the two of you going about your evening. Liv does her homework while you worked on some work plans and emails, you had dinner together and then both of you did your night time routines before you joined her in her bedroom for story time.

"Mom?" Liv calls for you as you shut the book, setting it on her nightstand. "What is it, kiddo?"

"Does this mean Mr. Seb is my dad?" She asks, leaving you stumped.

You sit there for a moment, trying to figure out how you'd answer her question. "Well, no. He's not your actual dad but you can look at him like your dad if you want."

She nods. "Do I keep calling him Mr. Seb?"

"Yeah, I would think so."

Seb was in a similar situation at his place, Milly had begged him to watch her favourite cartoon instead of story time and Seb caved. The two of them on the couch when she turns to her dad. "If Liv and I are sisters, does this mean auntie y/n is my mommy now?"

It takes him a second to register the question. He can't say yes, because Milly did see pictures of her actual mother, but it's also not a no.

"In a way, yes. She's not your mommy but you can look at her like your mommy, she'll always be there for you."

Milly seemed satisfied with her father's answer, nodding as she turned her attention back to the tv.

---

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#sugar and spice; all things nice series #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x y/n #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel fluff #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 series #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fluff

[zamiecmunson]

scooby snacks

eddie x reader

you accidentally eat some of eddie’s very special brownies

i love edibles. i love scooby doo. i love eddie. can you tell. warnings: weed obviously, vomit but no graphic description, wrote this a long long time ago been sitting in my drafts so not too sure what else sorryyyyy 🫶🏻

‘voila!’ eddie whispered to himself, beaming down with pride at his creation. he passed on doing a taste test as he knew the guys would get pissy if they turned up & he was already stoned. plus he didn’t know exactly just how strong they were. that was the purpose after all, stronger than usual. gareth had been complaining for weeks that he was ‘building a tolerance’ and wanted to ‘trip balls’ without taking the hard stuff. eddie scoffed at that of course but came through with some pretty sweet brownies anyway. he left them out to cool on the kitchen counter before jumping in the shower.

after knocking on eddie’s door and getting no answer, you let yourself in.

‘eddie?’ you called out clocking that the weird fuzzy noise was water running.

‘in the shower baby, i’ll be out in a sec’ he called back. both a pro and con of living in a trailer: thin walls.

‘ooh!’ you raised your brows excitedly at the freshly baked batch of brownies on the side. eddie bakes? who knew! you helped yourself to a small corner slice, after taking a bite you sorta understood why he’s never baked for you before. it tasted kinda funny. but the kind of funny where you had to keep taking another bite to figure out if it actually did taste funny or not. two and a half brownies later, eddie surfaced from the bathroom.

‘hey!- oh. oh god, babe!’ his face switched from a sweet smile to deer caught in headlights as soon as he locked in on the face full of brownie.

‘ ‘m sorry they jush looked shoh good and i’m tryna figure out what the shecret ingredient is’ you mumbled through heavy chews.

‘that would be pot’ his eyes stayed at full screen as he gently pressed his hands to the brownie, lowering the rest of it from your lips.

‘oh, i’ve had these before it’s fine! i thought they tasted kinda funky, i should have guessed’ you stayed blissfully unaware and calm, wiping the crumbs off the side of your mouth while eddie’s heart was going at 100 mph. his eyes darted from the tray, to your face, to the tray, to your face then back to the tray.

‘and you’ve had three of these?’ his nervous voice matched his face.

‘two and a half, technically’ you continued to grin innocently.

‘do you, by any chance, perhaps recall gareth complaining about how the usual stuff just wasn’t touching the sides for him anymore?’ eddie did this thing where he used a lot of unnecessary words when he was nervous. you chuckled at his little habit peaking through and answered with a subtle eye roll ‘yes’.

‘well… these were made with him in mind. extra strong. like, should probably just start with a quarter of a slice strong’ he delicately placed his hands on the side of your arms. there was silence for a while. a painfully long while. you focused on the feeling of it sitting in your stomach.

‘well this isn’t good’ you responded with a straight but calm face.

‘no, no it’s not’ you both continued to stand very still. you couldn’t tell if it was kicking in already or if you were just prematurely paranoid.

‘i should probably sit down’ you broke the statuesque silence, eddie guided you to his sofa as if you were his 89 year old grandmother.

‘i’ll get you some water’ he immediately sprung up again after sitting you down.

you probably should have been more nervous than you were. not eddie’s level of panic but somewhere in the middle. weed had only ever given you a slight buzz and the giggles, surely there couldn’t be irredeemably dire consequences. eddie was running around looking for a bucket just in case you were sick and anything else you might need while you stared into space.

after a while, you could hear eddie talking to you… but every other noise in the world appeared just as loud and 10x more important.

‘oh fuck here we go’ eddie caught onto your darkening eyes and droopy muscles. he’d looked after you when you were sick, drunk and stoned. this was about to be his ultimate test.

‘you know,’ you started but got cut off by how dry your mouth was. ‘your place has always smelled good. it smells like boy, but YOU boy. good eddie boy you’ you blinked what felt like 900 times but it really really wasn’t.

‘oh yeah?’ eddie smiled slightly, his panic dying down a smidge as he was amused. he handed you a glass of water recognising the signs all too well.

‘thank you that’s brilliant’ you took the glass and chugged.

‘slow down sailor you don’t wanna make yourself puke’ eddie suppressed a grin, pushing the bucket closer to your feet just in case.

‘do you think sailors get land sick? like, if they’re so used to being at sea would that make them get sick from not wobbling about on a boat?’ your brow knotted with concern as eddie’s shoulders bobbed up and down. ‘wobbling. wobble. wobbly wobbly wobble’ you started to amuse yourself with a slight slur of the pronunciation while eddie’s giggles turned into hearty laughter.

‘that’s an amazing question that i unfortunately don’t have the answer for’ he rubbed a brewing tear of laughter from his face and stared adoringly at your hazed state.

‘since when do you not know everything? you know everything ever, actually. you always have an answer’ you responded with upmost seriousness. on a normal day, that might have come off as condescending. but weirdly, it gave eddie a huge confidence boost as he could tell you were being completely genuine.

‘i know what goes on in your brain, not sailors i’m afraid. i’ll try do better in the future’ he petted your head like a dog and ruffled your hair. god, it felt amazing. like a head massage worthy of 10 million dollars.

‘what am i thinking right now?’ you continued to slur, smiling into his touch.

‘mcdonald’s probably, though it might be a bit early for that stage’ he continued to massage your head, fantasising about how good it probably felt from your perspective. you may as well have been purring like a cat.

‘mcdonald’s…’ you whispered not even almost comprehending what that word meant. until approximately 15 seconds after it sunk in. ‘MCDONALD’S!’ you attempted to spring up but in real time just un-slumped your shoulders and opened your eyes wide. eddie did his biggest grin yet and handed you back the glass of water.

‘i’ll get the guys to pick some up on their way over. stay right here’ he kissed you on the forehead and made his way to the phone.

‘uhhh gareth i’m gonna need you to bring one of everything from mcdonald’s on your way here’ eddie didn’t even wait for gareth to say hello when he picked up the phone.

there was a sigh.

‘…how many did she eat’ gareth’s spidey senses tingled.

‘enough. too much actually, i’m in for a long-‘

‘HIIIIIII GARETHHHHH,’ you appeared out of fucking nowhere. ‘NUGGETS?’ why use a full sentence after all? just saying NUGGETS at the man would obviously do the trick.

‘coming right up scoob’ eddie could hear his smirk through the phone. ‘and what would you like shaggy?’

‘drop dead’ eddie responded through a smile. ‘…cheeseburger and fries please’

by the time the guys reached eddie’s trailer, you were in silent mode. your vision was fuzzy, skin felt like velcro, cotton mouth was in full swing, there was a constant ringing in your ear and blinking was becoming an actual task. eddie was starting to get concerned but found comfort in knowing food was on its way. unfortunately eddie opened the door to an unwelcome surprise.

‘no’ was all he said when he met eyes with dustin & mike.

‘what?’ jeff asked holding 2 bags of mcdonald’s, slurping from a straw sticking out of one.

‘they can’t be here, they’re 12’ eddie spoke about the two as if they couldn’t hear.

‘we’re 15!’ they said in unison.

‘no!’ he said again, using his body to block the doorway.

‘nuggets?’ you attempted to shout from the couch but it came out as a dry whisper. only eddie heard.

‘hand over the food’ he compromised the barricade by putting one arm out.

‘idiot!’ gareth barged through the small opening using his bag of food as a battering ram.

‘nuggets!’ you said just as quietly but with a smile this time.

eddie clambered onto the couch you were sitting on to place the brownies on the top shelf before swiftly turning to dustin & mike, gripping their shoulders tight.

‘i’m not supplying class b’s to a bunch of freshmen. its bad enough that she’s out of action,’ without looking, he pointed behind to your melting body. ‘i actually wanna get out of this town alive and not shot dead by mrs wheeler, okay?’ dustin and mike stared blankly, wide eyed but blankly.

‘you do know i’m taller than you-‘ mike broke his gaze to point to the brownies on the shelf.

‘ARE WE CLEAR?’ eddie interrupted, gripping them tighter.

‘yes eddie!’ they stuttered together.

‘good’ eddie smiled, brushing them down.

‘NUGGETS?’ you actually shouted this time behind them, still slumped on the couch. eddie did an almost balletic 180 turn to face you, face softening immediately.

‘coming right up princess’

dustin & mike got a slap on the back of their heads for giggling at the pet name.

15 nuggets, a large portion of fries and half of eddie’s burger later, everyone was starting to loosen up a bit. gareth & jeff saved their food for later so they could feel the full effect, eddie wouldn’t even consider getting stoned before you’d got through the worst of it and the freshmen were just happy to be there. they thought eddie was soooooo cool, yet here he was. babysitting you. being responsible… he thought his street cred was over. but they admired him more, deep down.

‘feeling better scoob?’ gareth was starting to get giggly and watching you devour a milkshake without breathing definitely fuelled it.

‘who..’ you remembered to breathe. ‘is scoob?’ back to slurping with no remorse.

‘i don’t know lets ask shaggy’ he threw the screwed up bag at eddie.

‘does that make you velma’ eddie threw it back in return.

‘dustin is velma, i’m daphne’ he flipped his imaginary long ginger hair. dustin and mike shared a confused yet amused glance.

‘does… does that make me… fred?….’ jeff skipped giggle phase and landed straight in deep thought mode.

‘aww they’re girlfriend boyfriend!’ dustin and mike teased, making kissy faces at them.

‘OHHHH, SCOOBY DOO!! i get it now…’ you nodded into your milkshake. everyone laughed. you didn’t understand why. ‘dustin is totally velma’

everyone was arguing about lord of the rings when eddie noticed you’d gone quiet. not just staying out of it quiet, but not even going to laugh at how silly the situation was quiet.

‘hey sweet,’ eddie said quietly so only you could hear. you tried to move your head up to look at him but it didn’t work. ‘too many scooby snacks?’ he gestured to all the empty food boxes at your feet.

‘mmh’ was all you could manage. he then noticed you’d gone green. without saying a word he picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bathroom, telling dustin only with his eyes what the situation was. dustin suggested they all go to the park, gareth & jeff too gone to realise eddie had carried you across the room. eddie placed you down in front of the toilet and held your hair in a makeshift ponytail, rubbing your back. you were there for a while. eddie was impressed it took this long, he thought you were hard as fucking nails. when it was all out your system he hooked his arm under your shoulders and propped you up on the sink. taking your special eddie’s trailer tooth brush he cleaned you up with a smile. he always did everything with a smile when it came to you, no matter how gross it may seem from the outside. he knew you’d be mortified when you properly came round but seeing you this vulnerable, being your sole caretaker, was weirdly his happy place. you did it for him all the time, he loved, ADORED returning the favour.

picking you up bridal style once again, he carried you to his bedroom. after placing you down as carefully as possible and moving you onto your side, he ran back to the couch to fetch the bucket & water.

‘ez’ you attempted to call for him for the 0.5 seconds he was out the room. that was “ed’s” in your mind.

‘i’m here, i’m here’ he crouched down to face you after placing everything down.

‘ar ou g wa?’ you weren’t even sure what you tried to say then. but eddie deciphered it.

‘i’m not going anywhere sweetheart,’ he swiped his thumb over your sweaty brow. ‘close your eyes’ he whispered before kicking off his shoes and gently getting in bed behind you, tucking you into his frame.

‘ove ou’

‘love you too’ he kissed your ear and stroked your hair until you fell asleep.

the next morning you woke up to the smell of coffee right under your nose. opening your eyes, you discovered a steaming cup on the bedside table and a distant clatter that can only be eddie getting frustrated in the kitchen. rubbing your eyes you sipped from the mug and shuffled closer to the noise.

‘morning’ you muttered, feeling very groggy.

‘good afternoon!’ eddie popped out from behind a cabinet door, hair in a bun with a wooden spoon in his mouth. ‘do you know how many times i’ve reheated that? i kept having to check you were still alive!’ he giggled to himself, removing the spoon from his mouth to give you a big kiss on the forehead.

‘how long was i out?’ you grabbed eddie’s wrist to check his watch. ‘IT’S FOUR THIRTY?’ you tapped at his watch thinking it would tell you something different if you kept attacking it.

‘gareth woke up in the park today, you should be grateful you had a bed to sleep in!’ eddie tucked your hair behind your ears, laughing. ‘shit!’ he noticed his mac & cheese burning.

‘i’m never eating mystery baked goods ever again’ you thousand yard stared over the brim of your coffee

‘serves you right, doll!’ he winced at the too hot mouthful but continued to shovel more in. ‘anyway,’ placing the saucepan down, he climbed onto the couch to retrieve the brownies. ‘it’s my turn’ he grinned.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine

[corazondebeskar-reads]

of rage and ruin - chapter two

of rage and ruin series

chapter two

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 3.3k

summary: you come face to face with the beast.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, allusions to/threats of torture, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), depiction of injury, body horror, typical raider/hunter behavior, mention of cordyceps, angst, viewer discretion is advised,

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

They were careful never to touch you. The exam you’d been given when they first brought you here was done with thick rubber gloves, and no one has touched you since. 

But there are plenty of ways to teach you compliance without touching you. 

Before they moved you, you didn’t see a soul for two days. No one delivered or removed the cloth strips, food, or water. No one woke you up with a loud buzzer or dragged you outside to hose you down. 

No one hurt you.

The first few hours, you sit and do nothing as usual. You don’t really notice.

After that, though, you start to wait. This deviation, this anomaly, was far more terrifying than the wretched routine. And with no meals, you’re bereft of a way to count the passing of time. There’s no sunlight down here, after all. 

To your deep relief, the lights still go off at night. Until you’re lying awake in the dark and realize they’re probably on a timer. So maybe all your captors are dead. Made a stupid mistake and got their asses handed to them by FEDRA.

Which would be nice, but also, you’d still fucking die. Because you’re trapped in this godforsaken grimy ass basement, and somewhere on the other side of it is the only other resident you know of. Him. 

So either you starve to death, or he eats you. Or both. 

You spend the next day hoping to see Cheryl’s smug bitch face. 

When someone finally comes for you, it’s not Cheryl. It’s not Jim, either, but that’s not a surprise. He doesn’t like you, doesn’t like whatever Cheryl’s doing with you.

Not because he has any objections to the captivity or abuse. No, Jim’s been clear—you’re a waste of resources. 

Anyway, it’s fucking Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber who show up. They’re not real twins (you’re not even sure they’re brothers), but they’re a damn good argument for nurture over nature. Spending the apocalypse together has them moving in tandem, grunting and jerking their heads to one another in a language all their own. They’re built like oxen and about as polite. 

You don’t fight anymore, but they still tie you and drag you around. You haven’t so much as argued in weeks. You’ve heard that everyone breaks from torture eventually. You waved your flag from the start. 

You’re not made for this. 

They tie you up without touching your skin; hands layered in gloves just in case. They leave a length of rope from your wrists to pull you by, leaving the rope around your feet as it was. You had earned that six inches of slack, just enough to stand and walk to the makeshift toilet instead of crawling, after a solid week of good behavior. 

When you figure it out, though, you try to run. Every electric screaming nerve in your body says to go. Go where? Who fucking knows. Anywhere. Away. Run. 

The room they’ve brought to you is saturated in oaky musk, and you only need a glimpse of the little cage within before you’re jerking backward.

They must have gotten used to your compliance because the rope flies from Tweedle Dumb’s grasp. The three of you stand still for a moment, all shocked by the turn of events. 

You turn to run, but it’s too late already. One of them swept your fucking legs like this was an action movie, and bound as you are, that’s the end of the fight. You crash and earn yourself some new bruises, and they drag you into the room by the rope between your feet. 

One of them—you’ve forgotten who had which nickname in all the hubbub—snaps out a baton.

“Get in the fuckin’ cage, or I’ll break your ankles.”

It’s a strong argument that you have no desire to see if he’ll follow through on. Already hurt and humiliated, you crawl into the cage.

They lock it behind you and leave without another word. The lights go out with a buzz, casting everything you hadn’t taken in yet in total darkness. 

When the lights come back on, you wish they hadn’t. 

At first, you don’t even realize they’ve flickered to life, because what they’ve revealed isn’t real. 

It’s a big, brown Rorschach blob. It’s an oil spill. It’s moving, in a jerky, fluid way that should be impossible. The limbs have pointed bony joints, and you can only describe the way they crawl as spidery, though they’re thick and bulky. 

Jim is standing on the other side of the gate, holding onto a thick chain that rattles and creaks dangerously as the beast strains against the thick metal band around its neck. He looks bored, but he usually does. 

Cheryl, however. The way her lips are curled, eyes wide and bright… this must be him. 

“Don’t you know what happens to the others? The alphas?” she had teased the night of all the howling. She had laughed at the traitorously dumbfounded look on your face. 

You do now. 

A long pink tongue has unfurled from his massive jaw, flopped over far too many teeth, and dripping thick saliva onto the floor. The… fur, for lack of a better word, around his muzzle is matted with something dark that you can’t look at anymore. 

Jim yanks him by the chain, and the creature lets himself be pulled to the door, barely holding still while the padlock and chain are removed from his collar and the cuffs from his paws. 

He’s at the end of your cage before you realize he’s moved, and you scream, scrambling back as much as you can into the corner. The spaces between the bars are thin enough for just his… good god, are those fingers? They certainly aren’t canine toes. They’re tipped in thick, long claws packed with soil and detritus.

“Hey,” Jim barks, and the beast side-eyes him. “Remember what I fuckin’ told you. You break or eat her? That’s it. I’m not getting you another one.” 

Eat? Eat?  

Oh god.

Your stomach swoops and falls, abdomen clenching and drawing attention to your too-full bladder, unlocking a new fear that you’re going to piss yourself if he comes closer. 

He does. You don’t. But just barely.

That long, dark snout pushes against the cage, as if it could nudge through to reach you, pink tongue lapping against the air. The oak musk is so strong now that it lines your throat and makes you gag.

You choke back a retch-turned-sob and he rumbles, a strange vibration that rattles the bars where he’s pressed against them. He rises, stretching up up up on his hind legs until he towers over your little cube, enveloping you in his shadow, and you can’t help it. You start to cry. 

He can’t reach you, not when you’re tucked back in the corner of your cage. But he can smell you, and he can smell the rich iron soaking into the ropes around your wrists. It’s not yet visible, but the skin squishing through the edges is red and rough. 

He whines, pushing his muzzle against the bars, long tongue flopping out like he can reach. 

The sharp battery acid edge of your fear spikes, and he growls. Stupid girl. Stupid fucking omega. He’s trying to help you, and you’re—you’re— 

You’re starting to cry again. 

He can’t make human words like this, can’t enunciate or even really remember them. He tries to reach you through the bars again, snarling when they burn against his knuckles. Even the distended bony fingers of his full form can’t reach you there, not even with the tip of his claw. 

You’re shaking now, body twitching and jittering beyond your control. Everything inside you is screaming white-hot and dissolving; vomit tickles the base of your throat, and you just can’t stop crying. It hurts; it’s ripping your throat and lungs to shreds. It’s a violent, tumultuous thing, and you can’t stop the wounded keening of your cries. 

He’s pacing in front of your cage now, the beast, on four mangled limbs too long to be canine and too warped to be human. His huffs startle you, long snout returning, again and again, tongue darting out for a taste. 

A little drop of blood slides down your hand from where the rope’s edge cuts into the bottom of your palm.

He freezes, nostrils flaring. You freeze, barely breathing. 

He looks right at you and then tips his head back to howl, the sound like icy water through your veins. 

You can’t help yourself. You scream, broken as your voice is from all the tears. 

Between the cacophony, Jim stomps into the corridor and slams his hand on the wall. “Shut the fuck up, both of you!” 

“Help me,” you yell. 

I’m trying, the wolf howls. 

“Please, please help me,” you gasp, sobs reaching new highs alongside your panic. 

“If you don’t quiet the fuck down, I’ll open up your goddamn cage and let him eat you,” Jim snaps. “I said you were going to be more trouble than you’re worth, and I was fuckin’ right.”

The beast snarls, snapping his sharp teeth at the air. 

Jim regards him with a sneer. “And you! Giving her a heart attack counts as breakin’ her.”

The words don’t make sense, but you don’t really hear them, anyway. “Please, I want to go home, please, please,” you whisper. 

But no one’s listening. 

The Wolf is listening. 

He prowls back and forth on all fours, which really, isn’t any more or less terrifying than when he rises up on his haunches. Neither image capitulates to your need to make it make sense. There is no sense, no logic, no reality that can hold him.

The wolf, for really, that’s what he is, isn’t he? God, you don’t want to say it. Unbidden, a memory works loose in your brain, slipping out of the crates of nonsense stored away in favor of survival, and rattles around.

I know what you are. But you won’t say it. 

Did you bring this upon yourself for reading trashy supernatural romance novels? Did you watch Underworld too many times? Did the shot actually put you in a coma, and you’re living in some kind of nightmare?

The wolf is watching you. There are no whites in his eyes, just pools of gasoline on muddy puddles. 

You close your eyes and pretend you can’t hear the way his claws click against the tile. 

While Laura had fed them stew, she told them about the trials. 

They had been the first. The first taken, before volunteers were called. Before they knew they’d need secure places to hold them, they had been gathered for observation in an old YMCA, packed in racketball courts so the doctors could stand outside the large wall of glass and watch them all at once.

They stood outside that glass and watched them change, in one way or another. The ones who turned, as she called it, went first. The ones who would become test group alpha. More than half of the overall subjects, who became suddenly, violently ill. 

They left them all in there with the rest, waiting, watching them cry out, watching them vomit and sweat and break impossible fevers. Temporal thermometers reading 105, 106, before they’d succumb to unconsciousness. 

If they woke, they were… inhuman. Something more. Something hungry. 

A lot of the first round of test data was lost when the subjects were eaten. But some were lost to the turn. Test group beta, Laura’s brother among them, didn’t survive the fever.

Laura’s husband turned but didn’t lose himself to the beast. Something in him stayed present, alert enough to protect his wife from the others. Or rather, something in her kept him that way. Something that had turned in her too, albeit without the violence, into something more than she’d ever been before. 

“They drove us out of the QZ,” she said, picking idly at a gouge in the table’s surface. “To shoot us where they could burn all the bodies and forget.”

“And what happened?” Tommy asked, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

“We ate them.”

They come back for him that night but he’s not waiting for them. He’s sat with his big, furry back to you, close enough to the cage that you could pet him. The thought crosses your mind in a moment of delirium. You could stick your fingers through the little bars and feel the coarse hickory hair. You know, if you were clinically insane. 

You’re not about to offer him a little snack. 

He’d given up on reaching you a few hours ago, content to sit there unmoving once your tears dried up. It’s only slightly less terrifying.

But when they take him out, you only get to sit with the relief for a moment. Minutes pass in the dark and silent room, but you regret letting your guard down when footsteps echo through the cavernous halls beyond. 

The Idiot Twins are back, and they’re not taking chances with you this time. Oh, no. When they unlock the cage, you’re faced with the barrel of a handgun that doesn’t leave your temple as they pull you out by your bound hands.

They don’t bother to stand you up or give you a chance to move on your own, just dragging you out of the room and across the hall. You’re sprawled on your stomach across the frigid floor of the new room, with the door slamming shut behind you without so much as a word. 

The rusted pipes on the wall in the beast’s room make more sense now, once you take in your shadowy surroundings. This room has the same shitty tan tile over every inch, but the walls are lined with blue (or what used to be blue) lockers. Not a single one is intact, whether rusted or dented or doorless, but they’re unmistakably lockers. 

There are two lines of seamless benches, though half are rotted to oblivion. But it’ll be a better bed than the floor.

This is practically paradise. There’s a tray by the door that you don’t see for a while, but when you do, you almost cry again. Might have, if you hadn’t spent the day in tears. 

It’s just broth and water, long gone lukewarm and dusty, but you set upon it like a vampire upon a vein. Wait, no, you really don’t want to think about that right now. But it’s not your fault you’ve got monsters on the brain.

Your reprieve is not long. The sun rises. 

The beast returns.

Oh, and he’s pissed that you’re gone, based on the fucking racket that brings you back to the waking world. 

“Oh, did you think you’d been good enough lately for a treat?” Cheryl taunts him. 

The steel doors between you aren’t enough to hide the sounds of his fury. 

“You’ll have her back when you’ve earned her,” she tells him amidst the cacophony of snarling and gnashing. 

It’s ten days before they return you to the cage. Ten days of poking around the abandoned lockers and finding nothing. Ten days of broth delivered at dawn and dusk. Ten days of your back no longer appreciating the bench to stretch out on. 

Ten days of listening to the nonstop scratching and growling and whining from across the hall. And worse. Oh, much worse. Wet squicks and splatters and harsh groans. You’re not sure if he’s eating or masturbating or what, but it sends shivers through your whole body each time. 

It also sends the weird, sticky slick pooling between your thighs, but you ignore that. It’s been happening since the shot, one of the weirder side effects, but it’s gotten downright fucking annoying since you got here.

You try not to think about it. 

It’s not long after they drag you back to the little cage that they drag him into his. For that’s what this room really is, you know that, even if it doesn’t make you feel better about being in there with him. He’s trapped, too, but you’re the one in danger.

They haven’t untied your wrists since the first time, which have blistered and bled and scabbed until the ropes rubbed the scabs raw and started the whole thing all over. 

He smells it before he sees it, any interest in the slippery sweetness on your thighs gone when he tastes the blood in the air. 

Hurt, he whines, though you can’t understand. Help.  

You don’t cry this time, don’t split the sour tang with salt, but the fear and pain and exhaustion are enough to center him. If he tries, if he could just focus…

And there it goes. You watch, mouth agape and eyes blown wide, as he shifts in front of you for the first time. He backs away while it happens until he’s on the other side of the room and sits his very bare ass on his bed. 

You watch the way his bones jerk and his body shakes and cracks and huffs out sharp, agonized grunts until he’s just a man. Just a man, nothing more. Just a beast masquerading. Worse than a wolf in sheep’s clothing, you think, because you know he’s the wolf, but right now? 

He’s just a pathetic, broken human. Bruised and bloodied, though his marks are rapidly fading as the healing takes over, but his face is edged in nothing but pain and sorrow.

“M’not gonna hurt ya,” was the first thing he croaked out. 

You startle, rattling the cage a little, which makes you wince. 

But he stays on the other side of the room. He’s sitting on his mattress, legs bent up and crossed, as if he had anything left to hide. As if you hadn’t seen too much already.

He tries not to think about it, but jesus. It’s a fucking struggle. As he takes you in this way, unclouded by the hazy moon, it still punches him back. Your smell. 

Joel’s never really liked tart things. Too much of a secret sweet tooth, of a deep yearning for the char and depth of anything fresh from the grill. 

But even now, even nearly fully man , he’s salivating at your green apple tang. Of uncovering the sweet ‘n sour burst of you on his tongue. Of letting his sharp teeth fall sharper through the tough act you fail to wear right, too bruised and soft underneath. 

To feel the way you’d give beneath him. The way you’d spill down his chin. No. He has to get a fuckin’ handle on himself. He can’t even look at you, not now that he knows you can smell the salt of his own slick where his swollen cock sits sobbing, neglected and furious. 

“I’m not,” he protests against your silence. 

He’s not sure who he’s trying to convince. 

But he doesn’t stay himself for long. Not after he thinks instead, suddenly, of autumn. Of the sweet smell of the orchard. Of taking Tommy’s truck up up up into the places where seasons meant something. 

The roads sprawled like veins and they followed them with no end just to see the way the trees curled overhead, branches reaching and burning with dying leaves—a sight so devastating that Joel considered leaving Texas behind for somewhere he could start to take this beauty for granted. 

Chasing the colors led them first to a field of corn, blustering amber in the setting sun. They had returned the next day, fresh from the motel with burnt coffee and warm flannels, parting with precious dollars for the privilege of picking pumpkins and apples and a little corn husk doll. 

He’d have paid every cent ten times over to see Sarah smile like that again. 

This is where the man breaks and bows out. Where the wolf at its weakest is still stronger than Joel. He gives in, gives into the grief, gives into the wolf, and shifts back. He stays curled up on his bed, though, and doesn’t look at you.

He doesn’t speak to you again for a month.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #alpha!joel miller x omega!reader #alpha!joel miller #werewolf!joel miller #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o verse #fic: of rage and ruin #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic

[undiscovered-horizon]

Return to sender - Kaz Brekker x Reader

[graphic descriptions of violence/injury]

SUMMARY: Someone from your past keeps sending you unambiguously romantic letters. While you think of them as nothing beyond an inconvenience, Kaz has a different opinion.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.9k

A/N: I'm going through the first editorial correction for my novel and as it turns out, I can't speak my own mother tongue lmao

Kaz has an eye for details. Whether it’s a pattern or an overlooked design, he always notices. That set of skills, either he learned them or was born with them, made it painfully obvious to him that your foul mood coincided with correspondence he never saw you actually read. The letter usually ends up in the nearest fireplace, its secrets never uncovered and you maunder around the club looking for a fight or a strong drink. A much bigger problem, however, was the fact that if you were in a sour mood, Kaz would become exceptionally chippy without an apparent cause. ‘Care for my investment’ he calls it, which makes a rather amusing euphemism.

In any event, he knows that the letter should arrive today. Exactly seven weeks had passed since the last time some mysterious correspondence pissed you off and the sender, as far as Kaz has noticed, is like clockwork. Strangely enough, he can’t recall a day when the letter should arrive that you’d come to the club already annoyed as though he has become privy to a rather obvious pattern that you remain oblivious to. If so, he has even more advantage - he can solve this inconvenience behind your back, in case you’d try to dismiss him. He wouldn’t listen anyway, of course. Not when it comes to you.

Knowing very well that you have a habit of arriving shortly after Inej, he’s quick to find the thief before you even get a chance of catching wind of his scheme. She’s fixing her clothes when she spots him hastily limping towards her with his face turned nearly into a snarl. A hand brushes through his hair. He’s agitated. But Inej knows better than to make the first move against the unmovable mountain. Kaz sought her out, after all, and if he means business, he won’t waste time.

And he does just as she thought. Speaking in a low tone, Kaz makes her part of his conspiracy: “Inej, I need you to do something but no one else can know. Someone will deliver a letter today. Follow them and find out as much as you can,” his voice is stern, not accepting refusal. The matter appears urgent, of utter importance.

Her keen gaze studies his face for a moment, looking for any way even the slightest tick of muscles could reveal a further piece of the mystery she isn’t yet privy to. “Is this about the new job we’re doing?” She elegantly manoeuvres around the subject.

Kaz knows what she’s trying to do. He clenches his jaw and gives her a blank, although somewhat impatient, look before slowly answering: “It’s rather loosely related.”

This is enough to put her curiosity on hold - for now, at least. The unmovable mountain remains, well, unmovable. Inej nods. “I’m on it.”

The moment she ends her sentence, the door to the club opens with a creek echoing through the otherwise empty venue, immediately earning the undivided attention of Kaz and Inej. The sound of heels against the wooden floor is unmistakable as is the fitting, rather short, coat. Inej smiles, stifling laughter as she notices Kaz immediately straightening his back when he sees you.

There’s a certain spring to your step, one that Kaz has learned to associate with complacency. Although this joyous aura is making his mind turn into quicksand swallowing anything coherent, he’s got enough grip on his thoughts to render his theory proved - you really do not have any idea that the letters come regularly. 

With a triumphant grin, you wave a scroll in his face. “I had a hunch and did some browsing at the city archives. You’re going to love it.”

Inej is gone and the only thing Kaz can do at the moment is wait along with trying his best not to think about this mail fiasco. But considering you’ll spend the entire day a mere inch or two away from him, he’s hardly going to do much thinking anyway. 

“Let’s see it then,” Kaz interposes before turning around and walking back to his office. 

Making his way to Brekker’s office, Jesper examined the expensive stationery from every side and angle. No matter the perspective, the cursive letters on the front still spell out your name. Truthfully, he does that every time you receive mail, mainly because of how little you talk about the possible sender. There’s always a huff, an eye-roll and the envelope ends up turned into ashes, without any further explanation. You become short-tempered for the rest of the day and go ballistic on anyone trying to inquire about the mysterious correspondence. As much entertainment as it usually brings Jesper, he’s smart enough to know when to stop poking the bear.

Jesper knocks on the door but opens them right after - announcing his arrival rather than asking for permission to enter. 

“...smuggling through the sewers.” He hears you finishing your sentence.

Both you and Kaz simultaneously tear away your gaze from the maps scattered on the table and bore your eyes into Jesper with anticipation. He lifts the letter, wriggling his wrist slightly, and immediately your expression falls. You clench your fist. A contemptuous grimace creeps onto your face.

“Letter for you,” he announces.

“By the Saints, not this again,” you whisper and roll your eyes.

“What do you mean again?” Jesper asks casually, half expecting you to break his hand and half hoping for an answer. Today, as it turns out, is his lucky day.

“A friend once convinced me to go to some socialite high tea with her. I met someone there, we wrote to each other a few times and then he started to be obnoxious, the whole ‘woe is me’ lark.” The memory must still be vivid to you as you let out an annoyed sigh. “He claimed he can’t live without me while never spelling my name correctly. But since I value myself a little too much to waste my time on pity parties, I simply stopped replying. The last letter I sent him, I don’t know, three years ago? And he just keeps coming back.” You clench your jaw, clearly stopping yourself from a string of profanities considered obscene even in this company.

Jesper puts on a playful grin. “You know, you never struck me as someone who’d have a secret admirer.”

Your irritated gaze makes him equally amused and nervous. “He’s not exactly secret, is he? More of a returning cockroach infestation. Worry not, boys, I’ll just burn this one like the rest and we can all forget about this little perplexity.”

“Come on, you’re not even a little bit curious about what’s inside?” Jesper coaxes as he hands you the letter.

“Believe me when I tell you that I don’t give a rat’s bald ass about this man and his pathetic wax poetic.” You snatch the envelope, all the while looking at your friend with squinted, piercing eyes. Considering who you are, a complete lack of curiosity whatsoever might as well be a symptom of a lethal disease.

In that short moment, when the stationery goes from Jesper’s hand into yours, Kaz watches the letter as closely as he can. Smooth paper, probably expensive. Careful lettering, written with patience and thoughtfulness. An aroma of mint and tobacco lingers on the parchment. The stamp has the current date on it and the postal code is only a few numbers away from the club’s - whoever sent it is in Ketterdam and quite close by.

Kaz makes those little observations just in time because you throw the letter into the fireplace behind him, without even glancing at the paper. The flames grow for a few seconds, devouring the dry stationery. Soon, there’s no evidence that any mail has been delivered to you on this day.

“Now, where were we?” You clap your hands. “Ah, sewers.” Jesper takes the change of subject as his cue to leave but you stop him right when he pushes down the door handle. “Oh, and Jesper? If you tell Inej, I’m ripping your arm off and beating you to death with it.”

He looks at you over his shoulder, a newfound sense of anxiety turning his vivid amusement into somewhat tame courtesy, leaving his smile unfaltering but tearing away the genuine joy behind it. “I will keep this enlightening piece of advice in mind, thank you.”

The door clicks as Jesper closes it behind himself. Returning to your previous engagement, you stumble upon Brekker’s stern gaze of disapproval. 

“Do not maim my investments.” Although it’s supposed to be a scolding or a threat, it comes out with a certain note of disinterest.

“Don’t try playing all nice, Kaz. You and I both know you’d watch for like ten minutes before stepping in.”

His gloved finger taps the map. “Sewers.” 

You mumble something along the lines of ‘yes, sir’ and pick up the single-handed divider again. Kaz examines your face out of the corner of his eye. Judging by your casual demeanour, the palm’s length between your heads is of no bother to you. Maybe you’re just too busy counting the segments with the divider. When you’re done, you reach for the other side of the desk, for a moment leaving broody Kaz to the, surprisingly cold, lukewarm air filling the room.

This day just can’t seem to end for Burr Lowther. First, he had to take his regular trip into the filth of the Barrel, he shudders at the memory, only to then spend another ten hours at the sewing workshop. Being a foreman pays exceptionally well and perhaps this is the only reason he’s still putting up with those lazy needlewomen. 

Putting his well-kept coat on the hanger by the front door, Burr lets out a sigh of relief - compared to the factory, his house is a quiet oasis. He remembers to take out a pouch and a box of expensive cigars from his coat. Without much thinking, he opens the small bag and puts another leaf of mint between his teeth. What started first as an addition to his personal hygiene, has quickly become a habit impossible to kill. Now used to the strong, chilly sensation on his tongue, he’s grown to like it. 

The house is drowning in darkness. Dim, yellow light from the streetlamps crawling in through the windows is barely enough to let him make his way around the furniture. Foreman Lowther is yet to start the fire in his living room but he needs to be quick - if he stalls too long his joints will begin to hurt. Even with laudanum, the ache is bound to keep him up for hours and that’s something he can’t afford. But first, he needs some light to be able to get the necessary things.

Chewing on the herb, Burr walks to the table across the room from the fireplace. He puts the new box of cigars down and begins looking for something to light the oil lamp. Once he blindly finds a box of matches, his muscle memory does most of the job - he’s lit up the lamp far too many times to think about the actions. In swift, mechanical motions, Burr takes off the chimney, lights the wick and puts the glass part back on. The fire brightens the rest of the table, reminding the foreman that he forgot to put away the made-to-order McKinnon & Co. stationery. He pushes the paper farther away from the lamp, just in case.

Burr’s knees make a cracking noise when he crouches in front of the fireplace. Carefully, he lights a match and puts it between logs and old newspapers. The fire smoulders for a moment, balancing between starting and being put out, before a bigger flame begins gnawing at the dry wood and paper. 

Foreman Lowther is about to stand up when something hits the side of his head, making his face clash with the seat of a nearby armchair. Scurrying and turning around, he sees an outline of a man, looking more like a feverish mare of the night than a real human. He’s thin and tall, dressed rather elegantly. The model crow on his cane glistens in the newly started fire.

“Who are you?” Burr’s voice cracks, giving away his panic.

“A scorned businessman, Burr Lowther,” Kaz explains slowly.

The foreman climbs backwards into the armchair. It’s difficult to look imposing while sitting beside a fireplace but his fear is far too severe to let the man stand on his own two feet.

“I’ve no business with you!” he yells. A few droplets of spit fly out of his mouth. “Get out!” Burr’s shaky hand points vaguely in the direction of the front door but Kaz, as it seems, is not going anywhere just yet.

In slow steps, Kaz gets closer to Burr, the difference in height painting him even more menacing. Lowther’s hand falls limp on a small table meant for trays with food.

“Perhaps you don’t. But I have plenty with you.”

Before foreman Lowther can ask another question, Brekker drives a sharp blade through the man’s palm, pinning it to the wooden counter. A howl of pain cuts through the night, scaring away the birds sitting outside the windows. Thick, crimson blood spills from the wound, falling to the floor in long drops. The fireplace’s flame glistens in the growing puddle, the reflection dances in morbid anticipation.

Kaz walks over to the table with the oil lamp. The first thing that catches his eye is the ivory paper. Somehow, he stifles the visceral reaction it elicits from him. Grabbing the wad of stationery, he folds it a few times and puts it in the inner pocket of his coat. Then his gaze trails towards the wooden box of cigars. The name of the company, Starling, is burned in cursive lettering on the front. In a swift movement, Kaz slides the package open, knowing exactly what he’s going to find inside - a cigar cutter. For people who can afford Starling tobacco products, it definitely doesn’t befit to chew off the end.

Firelight cascades off the metal cutter when Kaz turns back towards Burr. The man’s eyes widen in panic, recognizing the sharp device put against him.

“No, sir,” Burr begs with a frantic shake of his head. “Oh, Saints, please, no! Don’t! I’m begging you, sir! Please, please! No, please!”

Brekker’s face doesn’t change its indifferent expression. The pleading is not putting him off, never faltering his already-made decision. Perhaps, if it isn’t too morbid to consider, he’s enjoying having someone at his mercy. The cigar cutter clicks quietly as Kaz closes it a few times to check the state of the mechanism.

Kaz makes his way back to the foreman. Casually, he puts his cane against the table but away from the nailed palm, careful not to get it dirty. Then, he snatches Burr’s other hand, the swiftness diminishing all doubts that he’s inexperienced in bringing suffering.

“You have laid your hands on something that isn’t yours, Lowther,” Brekker explains as he forces one of the man’s fingers through the cutter’s opening. “Now you must pay for it.”

A muscle in his face ticks as he presses the cigar cutter. Burr howls in agony, tears streaming down his face. The finger falls to the floor with a wet slap as blood begins to pour. The white tip of the bone sticks out from the pulsating flesh, glistening in the warm, dim light of the burning fireplace.

In a feverish delirium, Lowther mumbles something under his nose, the string of incomprehensible words sometimes interrupted by sobs. Kaz can understand only two things from the ramblings of a madman: ‘wench’ and ‘reply’. Scarce information but he hardly needs more.

“Wench?” he repeats in a low voice.

With a snap of his wrist, Kaz twists the knife still residing in the man’s hand. A bone cracks. But there’s no scream this time - not an ounce of strength left in the victim. Lonely tears stream down his grey face, mixing with cold sweat as he blankly stares ahead. A gloved hand yanks his head back by the hair, forcing delirious Burr to look into Brekker’s eyes. They look darker than they should, clouded with something far too horrible to be considered human.

“Not only did you lay your filthy hands on something of mine,” Kaz’s voice is low enough to resemble a growl as though something carnal inside him has finally woken from its slumber, “but you also dare insult her.”

Burr makes a strange guttural noise, something between a gag reflex and a murmur, as another one of his fingers is cut off. Considering his vacant expression, it’s hard to say whether his consciousness even registered the loss.

Kaz tosses away the cigar cutter. It clutters and clicks falling in the largely unknown corner of the room. Reaching inside his coat, he pulls out the folded stationery. Pressing tightly on Burr’s cheeks, he forces the man’s mouth open.

“I don’t think you will be needing this anymore.”

Even if foreman Lowther was in his right mind at the moment, there wouldn’t be much he could do to prevent Kaz from shoving the dry paper down his throat. A match, a spark, a smoulder - the ivory stationery is burning inside Burr’s mouth.

Leaving Burr Lowther to his own devices, Kaz Brekker leaves the house, joining the otherwise grey and indifferent citizens of Ketterdam. The sunrise is just a few hours away. He’s making his way back to the club, uninterrupted and unbothered, to enjoy another day of your hardly divided attention.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker fanfiction #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine #six of crows #shadow and bone #six of crows x reader #six of crows x you #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone x you #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #six of crows fanfiction #six of crows fanfic #six of crows imagine

[railingsofsorrow]

do you need me?

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: the one where emily's death takes a toll on you. based on the prompt “don't come over, I can handle it.” from this prompt list.

pairing: s.reid x gn!reader

w.c: 3.5K

warnings/content: mentions of skipping meals; grief; mourning the loss of a friend; jemily (implied); blood; non-graphic descriptions of violence; character death (mentioned/not the MCs); addiction; intoxication; survivor's guilt; crying; unhealthy coping mechanisms; this is... heavy, be aware.

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!! I wish that we all have an amazing 2024. here's the blurb you voted for. hurt/comfort at its best <3

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

would you like to enter my taglist?

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❝ it did not kill me and it did not make me stronger. it simply was and always will be scorched upon my heart. ❞

— d.j

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You don't know who took Emily's death the hardest. Pain is not something that can be measured or compared, people deal with it in different ways. Some are quieter in their grieving, others are loud. And although each one of your teammates knows how to compartmentalize their feelings, there was a fog in their eyes, a heaviness in their shoulders more than usual. Things you could relate well after all that has happened. You wish you didn't. You wished all of that was just a strange and far-off memory.

JJ was different — you noticed it during one of your night outs.

Penelope had forced everyone to hang out after a case, to relax. It had been a few months after what happened to Emily and the team was still... sore. Rightfully so.

Hotch and Rossi left earlier, leaving you, Derek, Spencer, Penelope and JJ at the bar. The only ones who weren't intoxicated were you and Spencer. You were pretty sure the conversation Penelope and Derek were having in their own little world was not PG-13, anyway.

“Do you think she's alright?”

Spencer asked, casting a look towards JJ. It's been half an hour she was nursing a glass of water — you had purposely brought her this one since she'd lost count of her shots —, staring at it with her stare unfocused.

“She will be.” You had said and when he told you he was leaving, you asked if he wanted a ride home. You hadn't drank anything but orange juice. He refused it, hugged you and, before he left, he demanded that you'd let him know once you got home.

You ended up being JJ's designated driver that night.

It was when you first saw a crack through the mask she had put on. Emily and JJ shared a deep bond. You knew their friendship wasn't just friendship, even before Emily had revealed to you that she had feelings for the blonde a while back. When Emily was gone, you saw how JJ took it hard. Not that everyone else didn't as well, but the love from each person in the team carried for Emily was different from the love JJ had for her.

Between the gibberish she was mumbling in the passenger seat of your car, she let escape a faint “I miss her”. Her voice cracked and your heart ached.

“D’ you think...” She muttered as you were helping her into her bed. “D'you think she miss— a hiccup — misses us?”

You refrained from saying that dead people cannot miss anything. Instead, you waited for her to fall asleep, placed a cup of water and aspirin on her bedside table before leaving her apartment.

She pretended nothing happened in the next day and you did the same.

You thought JJ had it worst, until Spencer showed up at your door at 3 a.m craving for something he hadn't touched in three years.

Again, pain is not comparable. One does not hurts more than another; people deal with their hardships in life differently, even if they have gone through the same life-changing event.

Some let it show, others just know how to hide it better. You no longer knew if you were the former or the latter through the eyes of your friends.

The current case you were working on had rendered you mentally exhausted. A victim had been taken hostage and for two days you tried to negotiate with the unsub, but to no avail. You almost had it. Almost. When you thought you had succeeded in releasing the woman, she was shot right in front of you.

She died in your arms and there was nothing that you could have done to prevent.

Or was there?

There was nothing that you could have done. You have heard that before. Countless of times. People tried to inject that into your head as a way to make you feel better. And they have their best intentions, you do not doubt it. But it was no use if you couldn't bring yourself to believe these words.

This was just one of those days, when you didn't know how to cope with that overbearing sadness that crippled your mind.

There was nothing that you could have done. There was nothing that you could have done. There was nothing that you could have done. There was nothing that you could have done. There was nothing that you could have—

“Hey.”

You flinched, startled at the voice. As you came back to reality, Spencer turned up in front of you.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.” His face twitched into a grimace.

You cleared your throat, placing your stuff in your bag. You were so distracted that you didn't realise you had been holding the bloodied shirt you were wearing in the morning; you shoved it inside carelessly. I'm gonna burn it.

“You didn't,” you said. “What's up? I thought you had left already.”

Spencer leaned on the door, fingers playing with the strap of his satchel as he waited for you to leave the room. He followed you to the corridor, an unspoken silence that said a million things. His fidgety hands weren't just mindlessly stimming, he was nervous.

Everyone else seemed to have left, meaning the bullpen was fairly empty. You wondered how long you stayed frozen reminiscing as the minutes went by.

“I was waiting for you.” He responded as soon as the elevator doors closed.

You turned to him with widened eyes. “Why? I'm sorry I kept you waiting—”

Spencer quickly waved you off, “It's alright.” He gave you a soft smile. The one you felt warm inside. “I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

Oh.

“Of course I am.” You replied and you really hoped the tight smile you gave him was convincing enough for him to not question further. You weren't sure if you'd be able to not crumble down completely if he asked again.

“Are you sure?”

Damn, Spencer.

Yes, everything is good. I just need to get home, take a shower and have a good night sleep without interruptions.

Everything is good.

You don't know how many times you repeated that until he walked alongside you to the parking lot.

Arriving home was all that you needed to let your armour aside. God you were so tired. You didn't even reach your bedroom before the tears came like a waterfall. Falling into your couch, with no strength to stand, you finally stopped fighting against the sadness and let it lead you for the time being.

It's hard trying to be strong all the time, isn't it? Not admitting you need someone to be there for you because you only know how to be there for people. You tell them it's going to be okay. You let them be vulnerable. You say it's okay to not be okay.

Why can't you treat yourself the same way you treat the people around you?

You count every raindrop falling down your window, it helps you focus on reality. It was grounding and a few minutes later you have stopped sobbing your heart out.

It was raining hard outside. When you open the window, the cold slips right in and you stay there, enjoying the wind pushing your hair back.

You dial a familiar number tonight. And you don't hang up after two rings. You think about doing it in the fourth, but the person picks up, apologizing before they say hello.

It actually makes your lips twitch slightly. You don't smile, but you feel like doing it after crying so hard.

“Spencer.” You say through the phone interrupting his incessant apologies for taking too long to answer, your brows creasing after you hear how strange your voice is. “You don't have to apologize. I was the one who called you at one a.m. Why are you even awake?”

“I was reading. Lost track of time. I— have you been crying?” Well, shit. Too much for thinking he wouldn't notice through the phone.

“Why do you ask?” You ask rather pathetically. Why did you call him? Why did you bother Spencer at one a.m when he could be sleeping? You should feel sorry for yourself. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called—”

“I was thinking about you.”

Your breath hitches. You close the window and sit back on the floor and you feel like crying again, you don't know why. Maybe it's his voice. Maybe it's the fact that he makes you feel everything that you're allowed to feel.

He takes your silence as his cue to continue. “I know how much you love thunderstorms so I...” he trails off as if he's uncertain about what he will say. “I remembered you.”

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Spencer could take pride in saying he knew you better than anyone else.

He recognised the sound of your voice was different when your were excited about a particular topic and when you were discussing a case at work. He knew you brushed your hair behind your ear when you felt shy, but the same action could happen when you were uncomfortable. It heavily depended on the situation.

He was aware of your odd behaviour by the way you kept on touching your index finger throughout the day. The week, actually. Spencer could tell you were bothered by something, he could tell you were deeply upset. You skipped breakfast and you never had lunch with them. Not that past week.

And judging by the dark circles around your eyes, you weren't sleeping well either.

He saw himself in you a month back.

See, Spencer was the kind of person who didn't like being vulnerable around anyone. If anything, he mastered the act of not communicating his feelings, he just expected them to disappear, which didn't happen but he was getting better at understanding that.

After Emily's passing, the only one he opened up to was you. And it was the hardest and best choice he ever made. You made him feel seen. It was so easy to talk to you about anything that he didn't notice until a few days ago that you were a very good listener. Not that he didn't notice that before, no, it was not that. But you just listened. You comforted. You held.

Spencer was really concerned about your coping mechanisms, because he knew he didn't have the most healthy ways of dealing with things. He hoped you were better than him. He hoped you didn't let it build up until you were suffocating.

So when you called him, he wasn't lying when he said he was thinking of you. His lie laid on the reading part, he was trying to fall asleep but his concern was keeping him up.

I'm here for you too. He wanted to say. Please, let me be here for you.

“I know how much you love thunderstorms so I...” He sat down on the bed, shifting until he found a comfortable position. “I remembered you.” This is what he started with.

Your ragged breathing through the line cut off his rational thinking. So you have been crying.

He called your name softly.

“Hi. I'm here.” You say, forcing out an exhale.

“Talk to me.” He pleads.

He hears a faint sniffle, “I'm here, Spencer.”

No, you're not. You're far away.

“I'm here too. You know that right?”

“It's been a hard week.” You admit through your shaky voice. “I just needed to hear your voice.” You cut him off quickly. “I know that I saw you a few hours ago, but I—”

“Do you need me?” He was the one who cut you off this time. He couldn't bear you explaining the reason you called. You could call him as many times as you wanted. Every five minutes, every second. He wanted to tell you he missed you when your shift was over for the day even if he spent the entire day by your side, and that you never ever could bother him because he cherished your company. He wanted you close. And he just wanted you to be okay now.

“... It's one a.m, Spence.” There is some shifting through the line, sounds like you were moving around. “I— I can handle it. It's fine.”

“Do you need me?” He repeats, shuffling out of his room to the living room. He couldn't care less that it was one a.m. He found his coat hanged and didn't wait for your answer to put it on. Really, Spencer should have done it sooner.

He's half way on tying his left shoe when you breath out in resignation. Your voice much closer to his ear as if you were telling him a secret you should be ashamed of. “Yes. Yes, I need you.”

He let out a hum, standing up to grab his car keys and sprinted out of his home to go to yours.

“I'll be there in ten.”

You lived twenty minutes away from him, but he'd make in ten. He wanted to see you. More than anything, he wanted to tell you everything that you hadn't heard when you were too busy comforting people instead of yourself.

He stops short before knocking on your door, deciding on sending you a text to let you know he was there so you wouldn't be startled at the noise. He didn't get to click send as the door was yanked open. Your bloodshot eyes and swollen lips are the first thing he sees.

“Hi.” He says, slipping his phone into his pocket. As soon as he did that, your arms envelope his shoulders which caused him to let out a sound of surprise, but he quickly recover and wraps his own arms around you, squeezing your shaky body against his. “Hi.” He utters into the croak of your neck, his hand trailing up and down on your back gently. “I'm wet because of the rain,” he apologises halfheartedly. “Sorry.”

The laugh he hears through your sobs might just have made his day.

He was cold immediately after you slips out of his arms. You pull him inside your place and shut the door, claiming you would be back with a towel despite his protests that he didn't need it.

Spencer lost count of how many times he visited your place. He knew every corner of your apartment, every place you left books that you keep losing when you didn't found them on the shelves, every painting and drawing you had on the walls. The ones he happily convinced you to put on because you made them and they were beautiful, you just didn't believe it.

The two of you spent long hours on your couch, either reading a book and saying your favourite quotes out loud or just watching bad movies and TV shows to pass the time.

He'd ramble on and on about the inconsistencies of any plot and you'd engage in his refutations until you'd disagree and some bantering ensued.

“Here.” Spencer turns around to see you offering a towel for him to dry off. The middle of your forehead furrows slightly, he feels the need to smooth it out himself but he refrains from doing so. “It's dangerous to drive when the weather it's like this. I'm sorry that I made you come all the way here for nothing.”

“Nothing?” He shakes his head as if it's the most absurd thing you've ever said. “You're not nothing.” He accepts the towel and what he recognizes is a jumper of his he must have forgotten a while ago.

When he's completely dry, he walks to the kitchen where you had ventured off to make some tea.

Two mugs are placed on the kitchen counter, the smell of camomile slowly filling the room. You are lost in your thoughts again, mixing the honey in your tea with a spoon for forty-three minutes, your gaze unfocused. Lost.

His fingerstips trails down your wrist to your hand, proceeding to take one of your hands in his, thumb running across your palm. “Can you please look at me?” He requests softly, head tilting until you have no choice but to meet his eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It” are a lot of things. But he doesn't know if you feel comfortable enough to talk about all of them tonight. He'll just follow your lead and respect your time.

“I don't want you to see me like this.”

He feels your fingers tighten around his hand and he squeezes back as a form of reassurance.

“Like what?” He can't help but ask. Vulnerable? Human?

“Weak.”

“You could never be weak in my eyes.”

This time, he does smooth down the frown between your brows with his thumb, surprised that you don't reject his touch but welcome it by leaning into his hand.

Neither of you drink the tea. Instead, you move back to the living room, settling down on your couch. You end up cuddling, which wasn't strange because you have done it many times before. Now it just feels more intimate. His hold never strayed from yours. This time, he listened. He comforted. And he held you.

“I'm used to blood, we see it all the time.” you carry on, speaking directly to his chest as he looks down at you. “But I... My hands. There was just so much of it and I couldn't, I couldn't save her.” Your fingers play with the straps of his jumper to distract yourself.

There was nothing that you could have done.

“She knows you did everything you could.” Spencer reassures. He was well aware that you weren't just talking about the victim that you had lost today. “Wherever she is right now...” He lifts a hand to cup your face stroking your cheek with the utmost care in the world. “She knows.”

Your bloodshot eyes study him carefully, searching for any indication that could make you not trust anything he just said. He knew how hard it was to believe that you had no fault in the loss of a friend. Maybe if we had gotten there sooner... Maybe if we had figured everything out sooner...

A little bird told him once that you can't dwell on the past for long or else you'll be stuck in it. And those words — your words — helped on his healing process. He hoped he did the same to you now.

You were laying on his chest, one of your hands positioned right where his heart laid as your other arm involved his middle. His arm wrapped around you as his fingers were trailing up and down your back in the way he knew calmed you down. Spencer felt the most rested he hasn't felt in months and he wasn't even sleeping.

“Tell me if I'm making you uncomfortable.”

He shook his head in response, finding that statement completely absurd because it was not possible for you to make him feel uncomfortable. He's not a fan of PDA, but he found that he didn't mind it with you. So he lowered down on the couch, moving your body with his to be more comfortable, lips grazing your temple in a soft kiss.

“You're not.” He says brushing your hair away from your neck. Your eyes were shut and he could feel your breathing evening out. “Try to sleep a little.” He let out in a whisper to not disturb your peacefulness. He knew you needed it.

“Don't go.” You croak out, tucking your nose in the croak of his neck, breathing into him.

The corner of his lips quirk up. “I'll be here when you wake up.” He promises as thunder rolled outside. Fluttering his eyes shut when you have finally dozed off, he ignores the warnings in his head about sleeping on the couch and how bad it is for one's neck.

No, he could deal with that tomorrow. For now, he would just hold you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ all I know of strength, I have learnt from breaking. ❞

— sahiba

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @lilyviolets

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #reader insert #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid angst

[ayyyez]

Headcanons on shisui, minato, and Yamato on how they'd react to their s/o (civilian shinobi or otherwise:)) getting attacked and almost dying? 😭 need the agnst in my life rn I love ur work ur iconic uwu

A/N: the angsssst! but it's okay I love angst it's what I do haha but mostly as long as it has a happy ending because we deserve that as a treat as do they. And aw thanks sm!

TAGS: angst, reader attacked/almost dies, sad characters, mini scenarios rather than headcanons, mentions of hospitals, mentions of wounds, mentions of being impaled, no graphic injuries, characters blaming themselves, long post under cut

CHARACTERS: Shisui Uchiha, Minato Namikaze, Yamato

SHISUI UCHIHA

Shisui is usually the calm and collected one no matter the situation. He can take out any enemy. Always has a plan and can lighten any situation with a lighthearted quip should it call for it.

But this, oh god nothing can prepare him for this.

You're not supposed to be able to get hit. Your entire jutsu is supposed to be impenetrable. More so than that, he's supposed to be your eyes in case things go wrong, your back up.

The enemy found a weak spot though—pulled a thread in the seam everything falls apart right in front of him.

Shisui feels so powerless as he calls your name.

'I've got you.' He says, catching you just before you hit the ground.

He ducks for cover as kunai come at him from all sides. The rest of the squad focus on the guy who got you. Taking down the rest of the enemies is a sinch in comparison. He can't even think about anything else except getting you out and alive.

When he makes it through the thick of the trees he feels you tremble in his arms.

'Shisui.' You call his name, same as you have a thousand times before but this time it's so quiet, almost ghostly.

Shisui is terried to look down but he has to. He can't let you down by betraying his fears. He needs to make you feel safe.

'H-hey.' He doesn't mean to let his voice slip and tremble as he sees how you don't look so good. 'It's going to be alright. We're almost there.'

You manage a nod.

By the time he makes it to the medics you begin to fade and he panics. They take you off his hands and into the tent to tend to your wounds.

Shisui spends the whole time pacing outside pale as a ghost.

He can't sit or stand still. He's a jolting mess. He can barely accept the water or food offered to him by his comrades.

It's the longest wait of his life waiting for you to wake up.

'Shisui.' Is the first thing you say as you come to.

He cries he's so overcome with emotion. Takes your hand and drops his face against it. Poor Shisui is so exhausted and has been so scared he just loves you so much.

MINATO NAMIKAZE

Guilt overwhelms Minato as he sits in the hospital room waiting for you to wake up.

He wasn't there when you had been injured because he held so much faith in your ability to hold your own and now he can't help but blame himself for being so carless. He should have been there. He should have been with you.

It's not that now he believes you can't handle yourself, it's that he should have been there anyway. Anyone can slip up. Anything can happen. This is proof of that and he knows that now.

If he could go back and do things differently— 

No it's too late for that. He would do right and better by you now.

He stays by your side each day waiting for you to wake up. He speaks to you, tells you little things about each day that are trivial but also deep things like how much he cares for you.

'I'm sorry.' He whispers, stroking your hand. 'I love you, I'll be here when you wake up.'

He lets go of your hand and walks over to the window to look out onto the village below.

Everything seems smaller, holds less meaning without you here awake beside him. It's like something is missing. He's no longer quite whole.

There's a stiring behind him and Minato turns wide eyed to find you coming to.

He can't quite believe it when your eyes flutter open.

'Mmm.' You groan. 'Damn that hurts.'

A soft chuckle escapes him and then a few tears too. Just a flood of relief hits at the signs of you being there.

Then you turn to him, a little more awake.

'Hey.' You say. 'What are you doing all the way over there, huh?'

And that's all it takes for him to just crowd you in the tightest (but also careful) hug.

'I'm so glad you're awake.' He whispers. 'I'm so sorry.'

'Don't be sorry.' You assure him. 'I'm glad you're here though.'

He pulls away and looks you deep in the eyes. 'I love you.'

It's enough to take your breath away. 'I love you, too.'

YAMATO

The image of you jumping in front of him to protect him is something Yamato will never forget. He's not sure he can forgive you for it either if you don't wake up.

He knows neither of you had a choice but— 

Seeing you there impaled is just not something he can ever forgive.

You should have let it hit him. Village be damned he'd rather—okay he would not rather hundreds of other people die instead of you getting injured but that's besides the point! He should never of had to see you that way. If you didn't worm your way into his life and make him care then— 

Oh who is he kidding.

Yamato could never be mad at you.

He's mad at himself. He should never have agreed to put you in this situation in the first place. There should have been a better strategy. He should have thought up a better strategy.

'It was an impossible situation, stop beating yourself up over it and just be there instead.'

Yamato lifts his head.

'Kakashi.' He balls his fists against his pants then sighs unfurling them. 'I know it's just—'

'Just that you think you could have strategised yourself out of an impossible situation now that it's over.'

'This is different.'

'It's always different with the people we care about.' He gives him a knowing expression. 'With the people we love.'

'I don't need a pep talk right now.'

'No but you also don't need to sit here waiting for someone to scold you like you've done something wrong.'

Yamato gives him a doubtful look.

'You both did your duty and what you wanted to do so now you ought to both be together for the waking up part.' Kakashi sighs. 'Neither of you are dying today.'

Yamato takes a deep breath letting it settle in his lungs before he exhales again. Kakashi was right. He needs to be by your side.

'Okay.' Is all he says before he stands and heads to your room, leaving his senpai behind.

The tension is palpable as he enters your room. The machines beeping and your assisted breathing fill his ears. He sits beside you timid as he shifts closer.

'Sorry, I took so long.' Is all he whispers as he wakes for you to wake.

Your eyes flicker open a few moments later as if to let him know it's alright. He's not mad anymore, only relieved. Loved.

#naruto request #naruto x reader #shisui uchiha #shisui x reader #shisui uchiha x reader #shisui imagine #shisui uchiha imagine #shisui headcanons #shisui uchiha headcanons #minato namikaze #minato x reader #minato imagine #minato namikaze headcanons #yamato x reader #yamato imagine #yamato headcanons #yamato naruto #yamato tenzo #captain yamato #minato namikaze x reader

[viccharine]

do you guys ever listen to a band so much that you end up making fake merch for it?

(reblogs greatly appreciated!!!!)

close ups and commentary under the cut!

about the poster itself: do you guys know how hard it is to make art for a band that hasn’t been active in 13 years? the answer is HARD (yes, i probably could done research and looked for old interviews for inspiration but who has time for that)

—> the icons related to “take a vacation!” are inspired by lyrics from the song “take a vacation!” (haha, did you see what I did there?) specifically, the lines “we’ll leave the waves at the ocean” and “we’ll leave the sand in a suitcase”

—> the Jon Walker and Ryan Ross icons are taken directly from the album cover (it took ten years off my life trying to figure out how to get them on here w/ the color palette—graphic design may be my passion but I never said i was GOOD at it)

—> the heart imagery comes from the fact that the band’s called “the young VEINS”—although it annoys me IMMENSELY that i technically drew more arteries than veins in the icons (my anatomy teacher would be so disappointed, but alas, anatomical accuracy had to be sacrificed to make it. yknow. look nice)

—> i did hand-lettering for all the text except for everything that’s in Helvetica (i did THAT in canva). the art program i use has a basically unusable text tool so I was forced to draw all of it, so I choose to believe that the reason why it doesn’t look. the best. is because of the caffeine shakes

some extra commentary: am I the only one who’s genuinely REALLY bad at listening to music? i don’t really get into bands as much as i just find songs that sound nice—to illustrate the extent of this issue: i did NOT know that Brendon Urie was a part of Panic! At the Disco. I’m not even kidding, I thought the artist who made Death of a Bachelor and the artist who made A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out were completely different and just. didn’t bother to check if I was right.

also, I’m not the type of person to be interested in band lore???? I rarely know the names of band members if even I’ve listened to the band for years (I really couldn’t care less in most situations)

case in point, i did not know who the FUCK Ryan Ross was!!! i knew he was in p!atd but that’s literally about it—before a couple of days ago if you asked to me pick out either Ryan Ross or Jon Walker from a line up I would not be able to get even CLOSE

anyway, my friend/manager is really into band lore, so I basically got a crash-course in all things “early to late 2000s emo band” and subsequently found out about the Young Veins (i was also extremely disappointed when I found out they only had one album and hadn’t been active in over a decade) THEN I realized that decade old, inactive bands don’t usually have merch, so I made my own! “merch” used lightly—i don’t think this is actually fit to sell lol

anyway that’s all k thanks byeee :D!! (and go stream the young veins!!)

#the young veins #ryan ross #jon walker #panic! at the disco #can I technically tag this as panic! at the disco if I only mentioned them in the caption #whatever yolo #brendon urie #again can I tag brendon Urie if he’s only mentioned in the caption? idk but I will #band fanart #the young veins fanart #band poster #fanart #digital art #graphic design #i actually have no graphic design background which explains why it looks like that #young veins do NOT come back until I can profit off this fake poster (JOKING. IM JOKING. IM NOT SELLING THIS) #panic at the disco almost killed me that one time but that’s a story for another day #p!atd #music #take a vacation! #ryan ross fanart #technically? #Jon walker fanart #only on a technicality #tyv #ryro #artists on tumblr #bandom #bandom fanart #xoxo my art

[starry-bi-sky]

I am absolutely loving your Danyal Al Ghul au. While I have a soft spot for the whole plotline of Danny becoming his canon personality almost right after breaking away from the LOA all because of Jazz, I'm just as much for your take in which he goes through the same character development as Damian.

Now I'm curious. You already tackled his relationship with Dani, will you eventually take a stab at when he, Sam, and Tucker meet Gregor? Given that it's one of my hated episodes as I couldn't stand Sam's infuriatingly hypocritical attitude to Danny's suspicions of him, I'd kill to see your spin on it.

Aw, thank you! Danyal Al Ghul aus are what got me into DPDC first, so I have a major soft spot for them. That being said, uh, its exactly that soft spot that causes me to have Many Opinions about the trope you just mentioned. Like the trope is all fine and dandy, i don't blindly hate it, my main issue with it is that most aus i've seen treat his backstory as an ex-assassin more like a pretty cosmetic accessory rather than something that actually should have had an impact on him. Especially if he remembers being in the league.

Like i cannot stress enough the fact that being in an ecofascist assassin cult (regardless of his standing in it) should've left him, in some way or another, screwed up morally and psychologically because that's just how development works. Nature vs. Nurture is like a game of tug-o-war that never ends, where they are constantly fighting against each other and one side usually has the upper hand or greater influence. Children model the behaviors of the adults around them (ex: bobo the clown doll experiment), and what impacts them in childhood can stick with them permanently.

Like how my psychology professor put it: a baby's brain is like wet cement; if you slap your hand on it, it leaves an imprint, and the cement dries that way. The same rings true for small children.

I could go on, but I frankly have so many thoughts on that alone that I would end up completely derailing from the second half of your ask, and I don't want to be more critical than I already have. Especially since you just mentioned you have a soft spot for the trope.

[Okay, hold onto your hats because this is long. Naturally lmao.]

Gregor! Man, I'll admit I last watched the show back in middle school on a dodgy illegal website (it had surprisingly good audio and visual graphics, and full episodes. But really annoying porn ads.) but I only made it to like season 1 before my hyperfixation faded and I lost interest. So I never actually saw the Gregor episode.

But... it is relatively easy to find free websites that stream Danny Phantom :), so finding the episode took me like. Thirty seconds. Plus the Tv.Tropes recap page because my damn earbuds just died and im out in public as of rn.

I'm not sure if I'll write something for the gregor episode like I did with Dani, since Dani's a bit of a special case in that she's a clone and tends to be a reoccurring presence in DPDC, and I thought the new dynamic with Danyal would be interesting.

Plus, I'm not a big amethyst ocean shipper for the pure reason of I'm just not all that interested in it; its kinda bland to me. I'll admit I've entertained the thought in this au due to the whole balcony scene i wrote, but I would've entertained the thought anyways if it was Tucker in that position instead. Big multishipper, me.

But, if I had to make it official? Danyal is not interested romantically in Sam when the Gregor episode happens, regardless of his relationship with Valerie. Who, speaking of I'm trying to think about how that would go, and I'm torn between including him almost-dating Valerie or not.

Because on one hand it helps point out Sam's hypocrisy (and i love her but i am always happy to point out her flaws and address them in au) in this episode in terms of Danny spying on them, but on the other hand I'll want to include a lot of set up in order to make Gray Ghost work in this au and wow will that take a while.

Especially with the Flirting with Disaster episode because it happens due to Technus' meddling, and Danny is, well, the son of the Batman? A trained assassin? An ex-assassin nonetheless, but still an assassin? A prodigy child in this au? He might not have needed to use most of his skills in the last few years, but like... there's just a bunch of 'what if' and 'well technically...' and 'would he? he could, but would he?' things that is getting in the way of my thought process and making my head spin.

.

Mmm. Okay. Flirting with Disaster occurs relatively the same as canon with a few exceptions; like Danyal noticing the strange coincidences, and he might take the idea into proper consideration because Sam has a point it is strange, especially out of nowhere.

However,,, he really enjoys Valerie's company, and he does really like her. He's been adjusting to civilian life for the last four years and while he's made a lot of progress, he's still. an ex-assassin child living like a wolf amongst sheep. This is normal, typical teenager stuff, and usually his friends like to encourage him doing normal teenager stuff.

So he's stubbornly holding out on the thought that this is normal, that ghost stuff isn't interfering here. He's a little hurt that his friends are discouraging this, he's not bothered by the fact that Valerie is a ghost hunter and he a ghost -- his mother is an assassin, and his father is Batman, and they still had a relationship. (Granted, he's not gonna tell them that)

If anything, being diametrically opposed to each other but still being in love is part of the family! Granted, usually both parties are aware of said opposition to each other, but he'll make a special exception this time around.

(And man now that i'm thinking about gray ghost, im now thinking about various like. scenes i could write between the two of them. maybe in a reblog.)

Anyways uhhh things relatively go the same as canon. Yeah. I think Sam still has a crush on Danny and still spies out of jealousy with Tucker.

.

Now, the Gregor episode! With that out of the way; the TVTropes recap for this episode isn't the best because it doesn't go into detail about the entire episode like it does with Flirting With Disaster and Shades of Gray.

(which i looked at earlier because I made a section of this post talking briefly about what changes I'd make to the Shades of Gray episode to help set up Gray Ghost, but ended up deleting because it was kinda irrelevant for the matter at hand.)

So I'm taking in bits of the episode clips at a time, I'll try not to get too nitpicky about how each scene goes because then it's gonna take me a longer time to write this.

But! First thing's first; since Danny is not romantically interested in Sam, he is also not jealous of Gregor. He is however, a bit eyebrow-raisey at him in their first introduction, but that's because Gregor is coming off as obnoxious.

Danny thinks he's kinda annoying, and it doesn't take a genius to see that Gregor is trying to impress Sam. But since they've only known him for five minutes he takes the good faith assumption and assumes that Gregor is genuinely trying to show interest in Sam's interests too because he likes her, so he keeps mum. The fake hungarian accent is weird, but it's overall harmless, so he doesn't point it out.

He does do the spying thing when he starts suspecting that Gregor might be working for the GIW. The episode only has this happen twice, but for the au this happens a handful of more times over the course of the week, with Danyal's suspicion steadily rising more and more each time.

Hah, when he brings up wanting to spy on Sam and Gregor because of this reason, Tucker still does his "woah! you wanna spy on Sam?" thing.

Danny immediately turns to him, completely unimpressed, and crosses his arms. "Tucker," he says, deadpan, "you and Sam spied on me and Valerie."

He uses a combination of his ghost powers and his regular stealth ability to spy on them. He's hiding in a tree when they're skipping rocks, close enough that he can use his powers to hear them talk but far enough away that he has a good view of their surroundings.

He's invisible in the cinema, but doesn't accidentally get in front of the projector. He checks the inside of the room for the GIW, and then waits outside the actual room itself, keeping an eye on the area and occasionally flying in to watch the movie out of boredom. It reminds him of being back on a recon mission with the League, but it doesn't end with him orchestrating someone's death.

Then when they're at the mall he stays in human form, blending in with the crowd. He runs into the GIW there, but realizes that they're not there because of Gregor; they're just shopping. They didn't show up at either of the last two locations, and he follows them to make sure they're not also trying to blend in. But they're literally just there for shopping.

Danny is rather pleased with this turnout; so far Gregor isn't a spy, he's just annoying. The next day at lunch he asks Sam how her date with Gregor went, and that's how she figures out he spied on them, because well, she didn't tell him that.

"Have you been spying on me?"

Danny messes with his food a little bit, and Tucker is sinking into his seat with embarrassment. He frowns, "Only last night. Those incompetent government dodos--"

His lip curls up; he gets all 'Shakespeare-y' (as Sam and Tucker put it) when he's insulting someone, "--kept appearing whenever Gregor did. I followed you and him last night to make sure he wasn't a spy."

A roundabout way of saying, "I was worried".

Sam is, as canon, furious. Danny understands why, he knows generally speaking that people don't like being spied on. But he's confused on just how angry she is, and is a little irritated by it.

"Why would you do that!" She exclaims, "That's way out of line, Danny."

"How? You spied on me when I was going on dates with Valerie." He narrows his eyes, and points his fork at her, "I'm not blind, I noticed."

"That's different, we told you why we were suspicious. And we don't have ghost powers like you do."

"I don't need ghost powers to sneak around, Sam, you've seen this firsthand. And I just told you why I followed you, I thought he was working with the guys in white--"

"So you think someone can only be interested in me if they're after you?" (this is a paraphrased quote, folks ;D)

"No! If that was the case I would have voiced my concern the moment I thought it. I don't get why you're so angry, you spied too."

Iiits.... a mess. Sam storms off with Gregor, Tucker tags along because okay, yeah, maybe Gregor isn't with the GIW, or maybe last night was a fluke. Either way he ends up tagging along. Danny overhears that conversation between the GIW and Mr. Lancer, and maybe he's right, maybe he's wrong; but something is up.

I've gotten to that scene in the locker room where Gregor tells Danny that he knows he doesn't like him, and I've paused at Danny's reply to say this: Danyal doesn't even bother trying to deny it.

"I know you do not like me."

"You're right; I don't."

"Ah, let me finish. I know you do not like me because you want to protect your friend, Sam, and I respect that."

"...That's correct."

"Good! Because I am going to ask her out."

"I had a feeling you'd say that," he stands up, claps his hand tight on Gregor's shoulder, and leans close to him with a threatening smile, "so you understand me when i say; if you break my best friend's heart, you're as good as dead, right?"

"Ah,, yes. I am so glad we got that cleared out of the way, and now I hope after we can.. how you Americans put it, hang out?"

In the episode he hugs Danny and gives him a la bise (which is that french greeting where you kiss someone on the cheek two or more times) after they end their conversation. But here, when he goes to do that to Danyal, Danny leans away, points an accusatory finger at him, and says; "Absolutely not; we are not close."

The next scene after that is like, end of day. Sam, Tucker, and Gregor walking away. Sam looks over her shoulder to glare at Danny, then gets forlorn. Tucker looks back and just looks forlorn.

(When did I start narrating each scene?? Eh, I'm writing this in brief spurts of time throughout the day. Don't fix what's not broke)

After that there's this whole scene with the two GIW agents that have been chasing Phantom all episode. They're there because they have Tucker's PDA that Skulker took, and it's got the information of their purple backed gorilla assignment on it. They've been going around seeing who Tucker associates with in hopes of catching Phantom.

Uhh ahaha and that is where this gets a little interesting imo, and also allows me to mention that im retconning Danyal's (already) redesigned ghost form. Which I've wanted to retcon even before this moment bc it was just too busy. I'll get to that in a moment.

The GIW suspect Gregor for being the Phantom because of his white hair and green eyes, which is all fine and dandy until you remember: Danyal (and by extension Phantom) has that very noticeable, rather identifiable facial scar that goes across the middle of his fucking face. The GIW could easily suspect that Phantom hides his scar with makeup if he's in disguise, but if they meet a kid with a seemingly identical facial scar and similar disposition? Hoo boy.

Solution? I've got two: Gregor is canonically a kid from Michigan who faked everything to impress Sam. Considering he knows she's gothic and knows that she's ultra-recyclo vegetarian? He probably watched her from afar or got information on her somehow. His hair is dyed, his eyes might just naturally be green, but if he notices that she's got a crush on either Danyal or Phantom? A little sfx makeup could help him recreate a similar looking scar.

My second solution that's gonna happen anyways bc its that suit redesign; Danyal does hide his face as Phantom. Ghosts are emotional creatures and its a popular headcanon that their interests, ambitions, etc, influence the way they look as a ghost, not just their death. A big reoccurring theme of my au is that Danyal did not leave the League unscathed, and that being an assassin is an important part of his identity.

So i'm discarding the hazmat suit look entirely and leaning into the 'assassin' thing. But the general (stylized) feel is like, white ribbon/cloth vambraces that he has used as a garrote at some point, a hood, a gaiter scarf-type thing. I'm keeping the cape. I did a doodle a few days back that's not the official redesign, but a redesign for Phantom. I may reblog this post with that attached because it's got the general feel down. There's very little white involved, but the inside of his cape flares out and looks like the night sky.

Now, the hood and gaiter scarf gets rid of most of the problem, but Danny's hood doesn't stay on all the time, so the GIW have likely seen the upper half of the scar. :] Gregor's own drawn-on scar doesn't have to be 1:1, but it looks close enough, right? A small scar cutting through the edge of his brow and ends right below the corner of his eye. A 'cool, badass' one opposed to Danny's 'garish' scar.

But! Back to the episode scene. Canon Danny gets written off as being 'too prepubescent' to be Phantom, and honestly it'd be hilarious if Danyal was written off for the same reason (he's calling them idiots in his head if they do). But instead -- leaning into the GIW's incompetence here -- he gets written off as being too mature or too talkative. Or something equally as absurd.

Sam breaks up with Gregor for canon reasons, but when Gregor does his "i really like you, but, come on-!" and gestures to tucker, he adds on "and that scary friend of yours too, seriously!"

Things go relatively the same as canon after that. Danny does end up apologizing for spying, however. Sam does it first. Sorrows, prayers, all that.

.

Things usually end up changed or different when I actually write it down, so I'd likely add more or adjust different scenes according to the flow of the oneshot. This is just like, a general vibe of how things would go, and where some of the more obvious changes would be if I did write this oneshot.

Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for the ask :]

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul au #danyal al ghul #i dont even mind the trope that danny becomes like his canon self i just want *some* kind of impact on him. but as it stands most aus i've #seen lowkey treat his assassin background as an accessory. like dyeing your hair or piercing your ears. that being said its also a silly #au where they're brothers and are related to each other and thus doesn't have to be that deep at all! im just bored of seeing the same thin #all the time. especially considering danny is usually depicted as the paler/whiter passing twin and being the 'kinder. more compassionate' #one between the two of them. give me danny who suffered crises of morality! danny whose morally darker than a cloud #morally orange and blue danny who sooner understands 'dont litter' than 'dont murder'. arrogant danny! he dotes on the people he loves but #is an utter bitch to everyone else and thus has to learn to be kinder. danny discovering himself outside being an assassin #his brother remembers a kind and compassionate older brother because thats how danny interacted with him. But danny had no qualms turning #around and slicing the tendons of one of the other assassins because of smth they did that displeased him. #he can still be like his canon self but shouldn't there be something that stays behind? Lingering like a blast shadow? #danny who carries weapons on him always even though he knows he doesn't need it but it makes him feel safer. #danny who spits out the oddest. most foreboding shit sometimes and his friends just stare at him and go 'bro what the fuck??' #idk if i can share the website where i found the episodes bc of risk of copyright. but just search up #'where can i watch danny phantom for free' and look for a reddit post with that question. the comments give website options. #i keep thinking about gray ghost now. valerie finds herself becoming a member of the 'danny fenton protection squad' with sam and tucker #danny takes a page from his beloved mother's book and calls his partners 'beloved' and equally sappy pet names. #he also throws the BIGGEST shitstorm of the century when he finds out about what Axion Labs did to the dogs. hoo boy.

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Run Free - Alpha!Ari Levinson x Omega!Reader (Part 3: It's Nice To Have A Friend)

Summary: As an Omega you knew your place in the world, however when the opportunity arrives to escape you take it... only to find yourself face to face with another Alpha

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Light Angst! Fluff! Talk of Captive Situation!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 3: It's Nice To Have A Friend

For the first couple of days, you stayed with Ari he decided it was best to stay home and make sure you were okay. Rachel was more than happy to cover the bar, Max even offered to help out too. All the work Ari needed to do himself he could do from home anyway.

Every day he would help clean your wounds and redo the bandages around your wrists and ankles. When he first did it he could see how anxious you were, flinching whenever his fingers touched your skin. But the more he did it the more relaxed you seemed

He could tell you were still nervous around him though. So for a large portion of the day, he just let you get on with whatever you wanted to do. Making sure not to crowd you and to give you your own space.

The first couple of days you barely left your room. Occasionally he’d check in on you, offer you food or something. Usually finding you reading a book or curled up napping. You did start to spend some more time outside of your room.

Once, when Ari went downstairs to grab himself a coffee to help him through the paperwork he had to do. He found you reclined on the couch reading, you’d even given him a warm smile when you looked up. When Ari returned to his office he found it really hard to focus, not because paperwork was dull but because he was so happy to see you smiling.

It was about a week into your stay that Ari left the cabin for the first time. He was running low on groceries, he was already pretty low before you came along but now he had two mouths to feed. 

He let you know exactly where he was going and when he’d be back, double and triple checking that you were okay alone. Asking if you wanted to come with him. You politely turned him down saying you would be fine.

He chose to believe you, despite the niggling voice in his head that said you were lying. He could sense you were a little uneasy but hoped you be okay once you realised there was nothing to worry about.

He wasn’t expecting to open the door and instantly be hit with the feeling of anxiety and fear. It made him stop dead in his tracks. In all his life he’d never been able to sense an Omega’s feelings so strongly. He glanced around the living room not spotting you anywhere. 

He quickly dropped the groceries in the kitchen before rushing up the stairs, taking two at a time. The feeling of your fear and anxiety grew stronger as he approached your room. Peaking when he knocked on your door.

“Y/N, it's me, Ari, you okay?” He asks poking his head in.

He spotted you sitting on the bed knees brought up to your chest. When your eyes met his he could see a flash of fear before suddenly they calmed. The feeling of relief crashed over Ari as you suddenly calmed down.

“Hey is everything okay?” Ari asked walking into the room, sitting down at the end of your bed.

“Yeah sorry, just-“ you said, shaking your head and taking a shaky breath.

Ari could feel the embarrassment rolling off you in waves “It's okay you don’t need to explain, I’m sorry I was gone so long” Ari apologised realising your biology was taking over, he knew omegas felt uneasy whenever an Alpha wasn’t around.

“No, I’m just tired I think, I’ve never slept well” you admitted, dismissing Ari’s suggestion that it was his absence to blame, even if you knew that was the case.

“Have you not slept well since being here?” He asked furrowing his brows slightly.

He had seen you napping often, but had always put it down to you being comfortable. Not that you weren’t sleeping at night. 

“No, but I never have, maybe I did before but I can’t remember” you admitted shrugging your shoulders.

Ari furrowed his brows glancing down at your bed. It was the same as his, it was perfectly comfortable for him. He hoped it was just where you were getting used to it. 

“Okay, I’m just gonna go put the groceries away, Do you need anything?” Ari asked as he stood up.

“Um no I’m good thanks” you said with a small smile.

You watched as he left the room. Letting out a deep sigh trying your best to get your emotions in check. You hated how freaked out you’d gotten with Ari gone. You moved your knees from the chest, revealing Ari’s shirt that he’d given you on that first day. No matter how much you wanted to give it back, you couldn’t bring yourself to. The scent of it calmed you down.

The next day Sammy came over to the cabin to check on how well your recovery was going. The three of you sat in the kitchen while he examined your burns giving a hum of approval.

“They’re looking good, clearly keeping on top of it” Sammy said glancing over at Ari.

“How’s everything else? Are you feeling physically stronger” Sammy asked you.

“A little bit yeah” you said nodding your head gently.

“That’s good, it’s not going to be a quick fix so don’t be worried about slow progress” Sammy reassured you.

“Have you been taking the vitamins? And getting enough sleep” Sammy then asked, Ari’s interest peaking wondering what you’d say.

“Yeah I take them every morning,” you said dodging the sleeping question.

“But she hasn’t been sleeping well” Ari added looking over at you as you dropped your gaze.

“Well, I’m sure it’ll take you a while to get used to it, rebuild your nest the way you want it” Sam offered glancing between you and Ari.

“Nest?” You questioned.

At that moment Ari realised exactly what the issue was. His guest bed, like his own, was built for purpose not comfort. There was nothing there except what was necessary. Of course, you’d feel unsettled without a proper nest, especially as an unbonded Omega.

The next thing that hit him was the fact you didn’t know what a nest was. Both he and Sammy exchanged a confused look.

“Do you not know what a nest is?” Ari asked you.

You shook your head, and they both looked at you as if they didn’t believe you. As if it was common knowledge.

“Have you never built one before, you know on your bed with blankets and cushions?” Sammy asked.

“No, they never gave me any of that, I slept mostly on the floor, or a thin mattress,” you told them nervously tugging at your sleeves.

“What about before?” Ari asked.

You shook your head once more “They took me really young” you admitted quietly.

Ari sighed as he glanced over at Sam. You hadn’t told them exactly what you’d been through. But as you revealed more snippets of information Ari was starting to think you had been held captive by a human trafficking ring. Something he unfortunately had a lot of knowledge about.

“Okay well, what we can do is the three of us go down to the store and you can pick out some things you like?” Sam suggested.

“You’ll be perfectly safe, you’ll have me and Sammy watching your back” Ari reassured you.

“Do you think it will really help?” You asked them uncertain.

“Yes, I really do” Sammy told you nodding his head.

“Okay, let’s go” you agreed nodding your head slightly.

“Great, let's go then” Ari smiled.

As Ari drove you and Sammy into town you stared out of the window of the car. Taking all the sights in. The last time you were far too nervous to appreciate all of it.

Once you got to the store, Ari and Sam led you through the store to the area with the pillows and cushions. Ari came to a stop and you glanced up at him unsure what to do. Far too used to just following his lead already.

“Go ahead, go pick whatever you want” Ari said gesturing for you to carry on.

You took a few hesitant steps away from Ari and Sam. Ari watched as you started looking through everything. Your fingers reached out to touch a blanket and a smile grew on your face. 

“You like that one?” Sammy asked you.

“Yeah, it's so soft,” you said unable to pull your hand away.

“Well into the cart it goes” Ari smiled grabbing it and putting it in the cart.

Ari continued to watch while you searched for stuff you liked. Grabbing another blanket and a few cushions. Ari could see you were trying to hold yourself back, but he kept reassuring you to get whatever you wanted.

Once you had selected everything and Ari paid he drove you back to the cabin. When you arrived back to the cabin Ari and Sammy helped carry everything to your room before leaving you to sort it all.

“Fancy a drink?” Ari asked Sammy as they walked down the stairs.

“Yeah sure” Sammy agreed.

“So how do you think she is?” Sam asked as Ari passed him a beer.

“I dunno, she doesn’t talk about what happened and I’m only getting snippets here and there, I think she’s trying not to seem weak” Ari sighed shrugging his shoulders.

“What do you think happened to her?” Sammy asked furrowing his brows.

“It sounds like she was held captive, by who I don’t know, worst case is traffickers,” Ari said earning a low growl from Sammy.

“Fucking hate traffickers” he growled.

“You could say that again” Ari scoffed taking a deep pull of his beer “One thing I’ve noticed though is how strong she projects her emotions, I’ve never encountered an Omega like her” 

Sam raised a brow and smirked slightly “Some people say you’re able to pick up on emotions better if it's a true bond” he suggests.

Ari shook his head “It's not that” he’d heard of true bonds, a kind of bond between two people that existed before even the bonding ritual occurred, where the two souls could communicate their feelings without that bridge, but they were extremely rare.

While he definitely loved seeing you get better and you smile. Your presence also seemed to calm him down too. He couldn’t dare entertain the idea of anything beyond helping you get better. You had serious trust issues around alphas and he wanted to fix that, not make it worse.

“Well then, it has been a while since you’ve been in close contact around omegas a good couple of years at least, maybe you’re just not used to it” Sammy offered.

“Yeah that’s probably it” Ari sighed, even if he didn’t truly believe it.

“Anything else you’re concerned about? You seemed pretty tense earlier” Sammy asked.

“Yeah” Ari sighed before remembering the other day “Well actually, she seems really nervous to be left alone, I can’t stay here all the time but I don’t know what to do” 

“Well, maybe we can start introducing her to everyone, properly. Then they can come keep her company and help her relax until she’s okay to be alone” Sammy suggested.

“That could work, you sure you’ll be okay with that?” Ari asked.

“Yeah they’ve all been asking after her anyway, I’m sure they’ll love to help,” Sam said nodding his head.

“Well that’s nice to hear, thanks Sammy” Ari agreed.

Ari and Sam continued to chat for another couple of hours. Sam caught Ari up with everything to do with the bar. It was when Sammy left that Ari went upstairs to check on you since you hadn’t reappeared since coming home.

When he poked his head into your room he expected to see you still organising everything. However, he found you fast asleep curled up under blankets and around your new cushions. 

The thing that caught his eye though was the item you held close to your chest as you slept. It was the shirt he’d given you on the first day. Ari smiled to himself, his chest filling with pride seeing that something you were seeking comfort from something that was his.

He shut the door behind him quietly before making his way back downstairs. Careful not to let the stairs creak too much. Smiling the entire way, relieved to have helped you even if just a little bit.

Ari and Sammy set their plan in motion. They decided to first introduce you to Jake. It was an easy choice, you were already relatively comfortable with Ari and Sam. Jake being a Beta meant you wouldn’t be as nervous around him, that and he was one of the friendliest out of the group.

To begin with, you didn’t say much, just listened in to their conversation. Chuckling occasionally along with them. Ari wasn’t too concerned that you weren’t talking, if his theory about you being the victim of trafficking was correct you probably weren’t used to this sort of situation.

However, Ari did love how you would smile and listen intently. Asking questions as you got braver. He would be lying however if he said he didn’t enjoy you seeking comfort and reassurance from him. You would glance over at him occasionally and naturally shift closer to him on the couch.

The next person they introduced you to was Rachel. Despite her being an Alpha you were more relaxed around her. You recognised her scent from the clothes you had been borrowing from her.

“You look great by the way” Rachel smiled nodding at you.

You gave her a bashful smile “Thank you, for the clothes too” You thanked her.

“It’s nothing really, I’m more than happy to help, and look if you want maybe we can go shopping and get you some more” Rachel offered.

You instinctively looked over at Ari who furrowed his brows for a split second before realising you were asking for his permission. He smiled nodding his head gently.

“I think that’s a great idea, it’s completely up to you though” Ari told you, letting you know it was completely your choice.

“Yeah that would be nice thank you,” you said looking back over at Rachel and nodding.

Rachel, Jake and Sammy all visited throughout the week. Once they felt you were comfortable Ari started leaving the house. First for just half an hour then for longer. One day he was able to spend hours at the bar, coming back to the cabin to hear you laughing with Rachel. 

The last person they introduced you to was Max. Out of all of them, he was the most intimidating so he arrived while the rest were also visiting. When he arrived you stepped closer to Aria and glanced up at him nervously, Ari put his hand on your back and whispered in your ear “He looks worse than he is I promise.” 

You nodded and looked back over at Max before taking a step forward and holding out your hand to him. Max raised a brow glancing over at Ari who was equally surprised at how brave you were.

“Nice to meet you,” you said as you shook Max’s hand.

“Nice to meet you too, Sammy told me a lot of things about you,” Max said.

“Only good things” Sammy corrected as you glanced over at him.

“You guys all seem close, are you like a pack?” You asked as you sat back down.

In the modern world packs outside of families were rare. The world was more fluid, people were able to move between groups. The was little need to restrict yourself to one group for your whole life.

“Kinda I guess, we’re all lone wolves in one way or another but we’re also like a family, no one is really in charge” Ari explained making the group scoff and laugh.

“As if! It’s your way or the highway!” Sammy exclaimed.

The group of friends all chatted and laughed as they exchanged stories from their past. Whenever Ari glanced over at you he could see you smiling and laughing along.

“You terrified the poor people!” Rachel laughed shaking her head at Max.

“They shouldn’t have snuck up on me, tensions were high in Sudan had to be on guard” Max said shrugging his shoulders.

“Why were you in Sudan?” You asked them.

“We um, were out there helping refugees, humanitarian mission” Ari explained leaning forward.

“Yeah we all travelled together around the world, helping those who couldn’t help themselves, sometimes getting them out of dangerous situations to somewhere safer” Sammy continued.

“So you’ve helped people like me before?” You asked hesitantly.

“Maybe not your exact situation but yes, we’ve helped people like you before” Ari confirmed.

You nodded your head slowly sitting back and looking down. The group exchanged a look at each other, noting how you had suddenly gone in on yourself. Jake moved the conversation along turning to more cheerful topics but you remained silent the rest of the afternoon.

Your mind was raced. In some sense you were relieved. Knowing they helped people like you meant you were definitely safe around them. But you couldn’t help but feel uneasy, like all your secrets had been revealed, making you feel sick to your stomach. Had they known all this time?

As the evening drew in everyone started to leave. Rachel coming over to you with a smile.

“You still okay to go shopping in a couple of days?” She asked you.

You nodded running your hands up your arms and hugging yourself slightly. 

“Great I’ll see you then, night Ari,” Rachel said looking over at Ari with a small smile.

“Thanks, Rachel” Ari smiled saying goodnight as he closed the door.

As he turned back around he spotted you in the kitchen grabbing yourself a glass of water. He walked over stopping at the threshold not wanting to crowd you.

“Hey I’m sorry if we made you feel uncomfortable earlier talking about helping people like you” Ari told you.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly.

“No it’s not, the last thing I want to do is make you feel uncomfortable or unsafe, I just wanted to let you know that you’re safe with us, that we just want to help” Ari explained taking a couple of steps towards you.

“I know I just-“ you sighed shaking your head and looking down at the floor.

When you glanced back up you could see Ari’s kind eyes only looking back at you with concern. You remembered how he was able to calm your nerves with just a touch of his hand on your back. You glanced at his large arms and started to wonder how you’d feel wrapped within them. 

You gave in to the pulling sensation you felt and surged forward to wrap your arms around his waist. Ari jumped slightly not expecting you to want to be this close to him. Once he got over his surprise he wrapped his arms around you and rubbed your back soothingly. He felt you completely relax for the first time ever.

“Thank you” you whispered, your head buried in his chest.

“It’s nothing really” Ari said dipping his head to rest on top of you, breathing in your scent feeling instantly relaxed.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked when you pulled out of the hug.

“Of course, you can ask me anything” Ari told you nodding his head.

“Any of the people you helped, were they trafficked?” You asked hesitantly.

“I don’t know, many didn’t talk about it, but we were aware of it and we helped people avoid it” Ari admitted.

You nodded your head in understanding “That’s what happened to me, I was given to them, they moved me around I was going to be sold when I escaped” you told him glancing down at the floor.

Ari put his hands on your arms bending slightly to get you to look at him.

“Hey it's okay, you’re safe now nobody can hurt you anymore, and you don’t need to tell me everything” Ari told you.

“Thank you, I’m so glad it was you who found me” you told him smiling slightly up at him.

“Me too, weird twist of fate, I was only outside because I lost a bet” Ari admitted with a small chuckle.

“A bet?” You questioned tilting your head in a way that made Ari smile.

“Yeah I lost a game of pool to Jake and had to take the garbage out to the smelliest dumpster in the world” Ari explained making you laugh.

“Yeah it did smell terrible, and I’ve smelt some pretty terrible things” you laughed.

Ari smiled down at you warmly making you tilt your head again wondering why he was smiling at you like that.

“What?” You asked him.

“Nothing you just have a really nice smile and it’s so nice to hear you laughing” Ari told you smiling.

You look down bashfully “Thank you” you smiled.

“It’s nothing, it’s been a long day so why don’t you head up to bed?” Ari suggested noticing how tired you seem.

“Yes of course, thank you for today and for introducing me to your friends” You smiled nodding your head.

“No problem, they were all excited to meet you” Ari smiled.

“Night Ari” you smiled heading towards the stairs.

“Night Y/N, sleep well” he called after you. 

Once you were gone he smiled to himself. He hadn’t realised how much he wanted to feel you in his arms. He had to resist his urge to follow you up the stairs. He needed to let you go at your pace, even if he was only just starting to realise how much he wanted you.

Sharing is caring so please reblog and leave a comment to really make my day!

This series has no schedule, please don’t ask when it will be updated!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist but follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary​ and turn on post notifications to stay up to date!

#niamhwrites #Run Free Series #Ari Levinson #Alpha Ari #A/B/O #Ari Levinson x Reader #Alpha Ari x Omega Reader #Ari Levinson x You #Ari Levinson x Y/N #Chris Evans

[bigtreefest]

From Both Ends

Pairing: Curtis Everett x reader one-shot (Modern AU)

Summary: Work and physical stress are adding up, until they spill over. It’s a good thing your sweet, understanding boyfriend is there to help clean you up however he can

Word count: 1,804

Content/warnings: this is mostly fluff and comfort, slice of life?, bad language words, semi-graphic period and nosebleed descriptions (mostly nosebleed) (also blood and snot) (this is natural. We were all born somehow), crying, comfort, non-sexual nudity, reader is on the toilet for like half of this, but not really in gross way?, use of pet names (sweetheart, sweetie, love, darling), afab reader who has a period, no use of y/n, pronoun ‘she’ is used once

A/N: Happy International women’s day. Also, what period phase am in that I’m craving fluff rn???? Anyway, I just have it in my head that behind closed doors, Curtis is the biggest sweetheart to ever exist.

This is dedicated to all my girlies who throw their hearts into their work and don’t get enough in return. It’s also dedicated to all my girlies who love Curtis more than me (girlies is a gender-inclusive/neutral term in this case. I love you ALL).

I feel like I should also tell you guys that I’m doing a master’s in medical science while I’m applying to med school, so I think that really came out in this, if you’re fearing I mention all the types of bleeding a little too casually.

Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

Curtis was working on cooking dinner when he heard you at the the door to your shared apartment jingling keys against the lock. It was followed by a series of grumbles before you finally turned the key and passed the threshold, slamming the door, tossing your keys on the entry way table next to his beanie, and stomping toward the home office, slamming that door as well.

Once he turned off the stove after stirring one last time, Curtis washed his hands and removed his apron before he made his way down the hall. He knocked on the door tentatively. “Sweetheart? Everything okay?”

You must not have heard him, too zoned in on your work, because the next second he heard your booming voice, hardly muffled through the inch and a half of wood.

“Oh my ….. fucking…FUCK. HOP OFF MY BACK, ANABELLE. I’M NOT A FUCKING HORSE.”

He opened the door to see you in front of your open email screen, heels of your palms rubbing your eyes.

“Hey, Sweetie, you have some time for dinner?”

You had been working late all week and you were exhausted. When it came to you, Curtis paid attention to every detail and he knew how tired you were, going to bed way past your usual time and waking up early, which is why he made your favorite for dinner tonight. In the hopes he could make a hard week even just a little bit better and maybe help the pang in his chest he felt every time he saw you like this. He cautiously approached you in your office chair and ran his hand from your shoulder down around your back to the other and pulled your head close to his chest. You turned to press your forehead against his firm pecs, and he could feel your tears wetting the front of his shirt. He stroked your hair and pulled you closer, kissing the top of your head.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. At least we know you still have great comebacks at that bitch Anabelle, even when you’re frustrated…and she can’t hear you”

You laughed slightly at that joke, followed by a sniffle as you looked up into the ever-soft eyes of your boyfriend.

“There she is.” He looked down at you, giving a winsome smile. Sometimes just a glance was enough for you to feel like your worries were melting away. He crouched down so he could bring his forehead to yours, as your eyes fluttered shut and you let out a sigh at the taste of comfort after a long day.

“Why don’t you go ahead and wash up while I make us some plates. Meet you at the table?” You nodded and sniffled again before giving him a quick peck and heading to the bathroom.

Curtis had just finished setting the table when he faintly heard you call him from the toilet. He cracked open the bathroom door to see you had discarded all of your clothes and were aggressively blowing your nose from a fresh wave of snot and tears.

“Can you…um…get me a clean pair of underwear?” Your eyes were glued to the floor. “And some comfy clothes?”

You finally glanced up at him as he nodded and went to shut the door again “Of course, Love.”

Curtis went through his drawers, picking out your favorite sweatpants and oversized hoodie of his, as well as a comfy lounge bra and underwear for you. For good measure, he also got a pair of socks.

He returned to see you still sitting there on the toilet, eyes red and puffy and elbows perched on your knees in defeat. You reached out your hands, thanking him for the fresh clothes that smelled so comfortingly like him, but he didn’t hand them over, opting to set them on the edge of the sink instead.

He moved to take your discarded clothes and place them into the hamper, taking note of the blood in your underwear. He knew that was likely going to be the case due to your request. Plus, the crying over the past few days you’d chastised yourself for (not to mention the app he’d downloaded on his phone months ago, but chose not to mention it to you yet. It was just so he could be prepared with the comforts he believed you deserved) and the constant body aches and tiredness you had shown.

He sat down cross-legged on the plush bath mat at your feet, peeling your hands from your face where you had placed them to cover up again. “Let me help you?”

“No Curtis, it’s really not necessary, I ca-“

“Please?” He gently cut you off with a whisper. “I’d feel better if I could take some of the weight off your shoulders.” You cared so much about your work and those around you, he wanted to be the one to care for you.

You meekly nodded as he kissed your knee and slid the new pair of underwear partially up your legs, placing a pad and preparing the sweatpants to slide on next.

You choked back a sob as Curtis looked up at you with his brows pinched together, concern deepening the blue in his eyes and painting his features. You blew your nose again, overwhelmed with the emotion you felt at Curtis’s kind, soft, touch in this intimate moment. When you pulled away, you both saw the red that painted the tissue. More blood.

Fuck. You knew this was coming. You were so prone to nosebleeds and the fact that you were stressed beyond belief, plus the four coffees you had today had definitely made it worse. You tried to keep your sobs from deepening as you nearly wailed in frustration, pinching your nostrils closed and leaning forward to keep the blood from trickling down the back of your throat.

Curtis rushed to grab more tissues, folding and twisting them into cylinders for you to quickly stuff up your nose to clog the bleeding. He’d seen his fair share of blood and nosebleeds in his day, so this was nothing to him. “Hey, hey, shhh shhh shhhhh, it’s ok, sweetie, you’re alright.”

He ran his hand down the side of your face as he blew a cool stream of air towards you, helping to dry the tears and calm you down. You could still see the admiration in his gaze, which put you at a crossroads between wanting to cry harder and lose all worries. You briefly considered leaning into his touch and turning to kiss his palm before the protrusions from your nose stopped you.

Curtis thought to himself about how you’d been burning both ends, putting in extra time at work, but still making the effort to spend a couple hours with him every night. And now, forget burning both ends, you were bleeding from both ends. Good one, Curtis, he thought to himself, but he’d keep that joke for another day when your spirits were a little lighter. He kept his eyes on you, and it felt like he could see into the farthest corners of your soul with his penetrating, yet pacifying gaze.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You spoke with a nasally voice between mouth breaths, your nose officially out of commission.

“What ever could you mean, Darling?” He quipped, keeping his smile soft and small.

“You’re looking at me with love. How do you love this right now?” You gestured over your whole body before aggressively pointing towards your face. “I look like a fucking walrus with these tissue plugs hanging out of my nose.”

Curtis laughed and hung his head, shaking it before looking back up at you. “I love you for a lot of reasons, but currently, it’s because I’m thinking about how you’re the hardest worker I know. This is just a side effect of you pushing yourself a little too far. It’s okay, and I don’t mind helping you at all but I know you won’t ask for it. So I’m happy because you’re at least letting me help you right now.”

You really were grateful for the way Curtis treated you. To anyone else, he seemed like a gruff wall of muscle, which he was, but to you, he was so much more. He was the biggest softie with a bleeding heart and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have each other. He constantly spoke of how much he loved you, especially when you were at your worst, which felt like a lot recently. You felt like you were the lucky one to have him, despite the way he often said the opposite.

He returned to gliding the sweatpants over your feet, followed by your socks. He let you finish cleaning yourself up before you flushed the toilet and you both washed your hands, your sobs calming fully. He finally grabbed the sweatshirt and gently slid it over your head, careful to not knock the precariously stuffed tissues out of place.

Curtis stood behind you in the mirror, grabbing one of your hair ties off the sink and pulling your hair into a messy bun. You’d taught him how to do that a few weeks into your relationship and he’d become pretty good at it, practicing whenever you would let him. His large stature towered over you as he finished and tugged to adjust the large piece of sweatshirt fabric down over your hips, perfectly oversized from having to fit over his broad frame on most days. His hands snaked around your waist, turning you and pulling your stomachs together as you leaned back to look up at him.

“And for the record, you’re the cutest walrus I’ve ever seen.” Curtis was happy to see your eyes sparkling with something other than tears again, appreciation, and leaned in to give you a kiss on the lips, before realizing the tissue cylinders were blocking his path, opting for a forehead kiss instead with a small chuckle.

“Now let’s get some food in you. We can eat and then I’ll hold some ice packs to your face on the couch while you finish answering those last few emails. Sound good?”

You nodded and gave him the first bright, genuine smile he’d seen from you in days. Again, in your nasally voice, you responded. “Okay, but I have a few conditions. I get to sit in your lap while you hold your hand to my stomach like a heat pad and feed me chocolate for each email I finish.”

He scooped you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist and arms around his neck, your hands stroking the back of his soft, buzzed hair as he carried you over to the kitchen counter.

“Deal. Anything for my best girl.”

Bonus A/N: I would probably sell a kidney to have a Curtis like this.

Thank you for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo appreciated! Lmk if you’d like to be added to the tag lists for any of my fics!!

#Curtis Everett #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett fluff #Curtis Everett comfort #nosebleed #Curtis Everett nosebleed comfort #Curtis Everett period comfort #period comfort #snowpiercer #Chris Evans #Curtis Everett fanfic #Curtis Everett fanfiction #from both ends #curtis everett x you

[ashtonlc3]

Severitus/Sevitus Fic Rec

Thought I’d share my own personal fic list that I’ve complied over time featuring Snape and Harry developing some kind of father-son relationship, all the way through either bio-dad, adoption, guardian or mentorship. All of these fics are COMPLETE because after OME leaving me on the world’s biggest cliff hanger and losing the fic for many months because I’m an idiot, I have serious WIP trust issues. They’re also usually really long because I love angsty, slow-burn fics.

I started taking in-depth notes while I read through fics a while ago so that I would NEVER lose a favourite fic again (the title of one of my favs is in Latin, so I never remember what it’s called). And also because I have a terrible memory so remembering what happened in each fic is quite difficult for me. Assuming I know how to count there should be over 16 fics listed here.

I’ve also rated each fic out of 10 and added a couple of notes for each fic (I didn’t add any with a rating of 5 or lower cause these are meant to be recommendations not a reading log). I’ve put them in order of how much I liked them, 10 and 9s being my equivalent to an Outstanding, 8 and 7 an Exceeds Expectations and a 6 an Acceptable.

TW: As is usually the case with Severitus, ALL of these fics have some degree of child abuse in them, courtesy of the Dursleys, with various degrees of intensity.

O Mine Enemy By Kirby Lane 10/10

You’ve probably already read this one because it is legendary in the Severitus genre and a staple for any fic list. In the event that you haven’t, you SHOULD read it ASAP. Starts summer of sixth year. 

TW addiction/substance abuse

Victus per Reproba Monumentum By firefly5151 9/10

For a long time I didn’t read anything that had Sev as Harry’s bio dad, it felt implausible, OOC and just was not as good as the guardian/mentor trope. That is until I read this fic, and now the bio-dad trope is my favourite. This fic is the Snape of Severitus, there are a LOT of flaws but I love it anyway. The plot is a bit questionable, it has manipulativeDumbledore (which I don’t like in fics) and Ron and Hermione pretty much forget Harry exists. BUT the emotional journey is amazing, and really angsty. Starts during summer of 6th year.

The Subterfuge By Murai-Sakura 9/10

This fic is on the newer side having been written in 2020. My first time reading this fic I had a few mixed feelings about it which made me reluctant to read it again despite really liking it. Reading it again for the second time I can’t understand what past Ash’s problem was because it was magnificent. Granted I remember it being darker than it actually is (it may have been due to me reading The Hunger Games in-between, who knows). I’m rambling, in short I think I liked this one a little more than A Year Like None Other. The plot is unique enough that the story doesn’t feel like your reading a rehash of every Severitus fic ever while still hitting the emotional points necessary for a satisfying fic. It’s definitely more mentor than father figure and is set during fifth year so watch out for Umbridge.

TW suicide attempt and graphic child abuse 

A Year Like None Other By aspeninthesunlight 9/10

Another classic whose reputation speaks for its-self, written before HBP came out and is also insanely long. I’ve actually never read the sequals either because one was enough for me and it’s in Draco’s pov. It also has the added bonus of brother bonding between Draco and Harry. Set during 6th year. 

TW self harm and graphic torture

Perception is Everything By Kendra James 8/10

This was one of the first few Severitus fics I ever read so it has a very special place in my heart despite the plot being a very standard Severitus setup. Set Christmas 6th year, Snape finds out about the Dursleys abuse when Harry gets sick over Christmas break.

You've forgotten who I am By CastlePheonix 8/10

I’ve only read this one once so I’m taking past Ash’s word for it. Set during 5th year, a what if Snape actually hit Harry with the jar after the Pensieve incident. Harry gets temporary amnesia and spends some time in Spinner’s End with Snape. 

TW addiction/substance abuse

Whelp & Whelp II - The Wrath of Snape By jharad17 7/10

The standard run down; the Dursleys are dicks, Sev finds out. This is pre-Hogwarts (7 years old) so you know Harry is going to be adorable and clingly. Vernon has Harry tied up in the yard like a dog.

Namesake Necklace By WiCeBa 7/10

This fic is a little more recent I think. Set summer before the start of 5th year, Harry and Dudley are de-aged. This ones quite the adventure and Sirius is still alive so you know there’s gonna be a fight over Harry.

What I Must Ask You To Do By VeraRose19 7/10

Set at the end of GOF and continues into 7th year. This story is not just a Severitus but also an exploration of the blossoming friendship between Severus and Sirius as they co-parent Harry together. The story is far fluffier than it is angsty and relies quite heavily on canon for plot whilst also taking out the adventure and death toll. It’s more a fluffy, canon, best case scenario than an angsty, slow-burn fic.

Emerald eyes By JadeSullivan 7/10

I cannot remember this one at all so once again I’m taking past Ash’s word for it. This is set during 2nd year and does feature corporal punishment.

Prisoners By Whitetail 7/10

Harry is de-aged to 4 and Sev has partial paralysis. So they stay at a little cottage by the sea. Hermione features quite heavily in this one, both her and Harry end up with Sev gaining guardianship of them.

To Recollect the Future By oliversnape  7/10

When Harry is hit with the killing curse in DH Harry and Sev are sent back to first yeah. Harry and Sev pretty much spend the whole fic Horcrux hunting, its a fun bonding experience.

In plain sight & Close to the Chest By waitingondaisies 7/10

This is always a fun one. Set during 6th year, Sev found out as a spy so Albus turns him into a 16 year old Gryffindor and gives him an embarrassing name. Seriously Albus, Alfonse “Eli” Hopkirk, really? 

Time Left Today By gzdacz 7/10

Sev and Harry are on the run after Quirrell is killed by an 11 year old. The road trip is quite fun although I don’t really like the ending too much though.

The Trouble with Polyjuice By LilyEvansDouble 6/10

2nd year. Features Snape as Harry’s biological father after the Polyjuice incident.

Summer of Bonding By Magica Draconia 6/10

This one is set after PS as the Dursley never pick Harry up from Kings Cross so Harry stays with Snape. Snape collects horse figurines in this one and is very heavily featured in this story. So its a bit too niche for my liking but otherwise still a good read.

And that’s all I got. I’ll probably come back to this list (yeah cause I forgot to put in tags) and add more fics as I read them. (When I add new fics I’ll reblog this post with a change log so you don't need to read through the list again to figure out what’s been changed.) My TBR is usually just as long so ... to forever be continued.

#severitus #severitus fic #sevitus

[starry-eyes-love]

Ch 7- A Silent Promise to You

Series Masterlist    Main Masterlist

Summary | Christmas Time is nearing and you sit down and discuss what life used to be like during Christmas with Ellie. Later on after Ellie is in bed Joel admits something to you and then gives you a Silent Promise in return while he watches you sleep.

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI

Language, slight sexual tension, Smut (oral f! & m! receiving, f! fingering, m! handjob), underage alcohol consumption references, reference of infidelity, argument between F!Reader and Joel, slight angst (not as heavy as usual, these two need a break), Christmas references (in case you all don’t like Christmas), death reference (not graphic), slight abuse reference (not graphic), fluffy stuff sprinkled in all over (cause it should be, it’s Christmas season). 

Word Count: 6.5 K

“Shhh, baby. Let me take care of you, yeah. I know what she needs.” He said, slowly lowering you down on the couch. Joel also laid down on the couch beside you, slowly kissing you up and down your neck.  He lightly nipped your skin in your most sensitive parts while continuing his featherlike touches to your skin.

“Ok wait, people had food, a Christmas tree, and presents?” Ellie asked, looking at you as you explained what Christmas used to be like before the outbreak.

“Yea Ellie, and Holiday Nog-”

“Holiday Nog, what’s that?” She asked, scrunching her face up like she just tasted something unsavory.

“It's a drink people used to drink, people of all ages. Though the adult version was always my favorite. Adults put alcohol like rum, whiskey, or brandy in it to make it a little sweeter.

“Woah, you hear this Joel?”

“Mhmm,” he said, eyes still shut and his head resting against the back of the couch. “Didn't make it sweeter though. Was more the liquid courage and taste of alcohol that made it worth drinkin’. Something ya kids couldn't have and our wives wouldn't bitch ‘bout.” Joel said while slowly exhaling. Joel was sitting by the fire, slowly relaxing, listening to the two of you talk. He was trying to get his back to settle down after a long day of chopping firewood.

You didn't know why, but Joel's comment about his reasoning for liking Holiday Nog kind of irked you. “Anyways Ellie,” you said loudly, telling Joel in a nice way to butt out. “Having Holiday Nog was always the best part.” 

“Overall, what was your favorite part about Christmas?” Ellie asked you, genuinely interested in your opinion.

You sat back and thought about it for a moment, then replied “for me I think my favorite parts were equally the presents and drinking the adult version of Holiday Nog.”

“You drank Holiday Nog with alcohol in it?” Ellie asked, eyes wide at your admission.

“Yeah, I mean I had a few swallows of it periodically. Dad would give it to me. He said it’d put hair on my chest and help me sleep more. So yeah, I guess I did.”

Joel was relaxing with his eyes closed, but when he heard you admit to drinking an alcoholic drink as a child, it piqued his interest. He slowly raised his head and looked over at you saying, “ya drank the version with alcohol in it? Honey, weren't you a little young for that?”

“Yeah, but like I said, dad gave me a sip here and there from time to time. So it was fine.”

“Darlin’, you can’t- you shouldn’t have- Baby, you were too young.” Joel said, shaking his head. 

Joel wasn't necessarily against giving kids some sips of the adult version of Holiday Nog from time to time. His daughter, Sarah, had a few sips of it the last Christmas he had with her. But she was 11, almost 12. That was completely different than a small little girl half her age running around having sips.

When you looked over at Joel you were irritated at his statement. Defensively you said, “I was old enough.”

“No honey, you weren’t. You were, what, like 5 or something on your last Christmas?” he asked.

“7 Joel, I was 7.”

“Well, I hate to say it, but no 7 year old should have sips of alcohol at Christmas. It ain't right.” Joel then leaned forward and rubbed his eyes, letting out a small huff.

“Jesus Joel, it was like what, 20 years ago ok? I’m obviously fine, plus dad said it was fine.” You turned to continue talking with Ellie, ignoring Joel and his issue he was having. “So Ellie what-”

“Jesus Christ, I'm too old for this stupidity” you heard Joel mumble to himself as he ran a hand down his face.

With a long sigh you turned to face Joel again and snapped at him saying, “What Joel? What's your problem over there?” You then leaned back and crossed your arms across your chest. You were starting to get upset at Joel’s obvious distaste for your admissions of what Christmas was like for you.

“Nothin'” he said while shaking his head and getting up with a grunt. He didn't want to fight with you, it wasn't your fault that your father was a complete dumbass, he thought. As he stood up Joel felt his knees and back crack, and he hissed at the sensation. “Fucking old ass knees and back killin’ me. Here I am robbing the fucking cradle. People being parents who don't deserve having kids. Kids drinking alcohol too young, Jesus Christ, and where are they all now?” Joel continued, muttering to himself.

“They're all dead Joel. So what's your damn point?” You replied, venom lacing your voice.

“I wasn't talkin' to you” he snapped, standing in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of water. “Just mind your own damn business.”

“What was that Joel? You're gonna have to speak up for us kids over here. Ya know, if you're gonna bitch about something, might as well bitch to my face about it and not behind my back. If you can't do that then mind your own damn business and shut the hell up.”

Joel was focusing on slowly breathing and not spouting off at you for things you didn't do. He knew it wasn't your fault that another grown man hadn't been parenting you correctly. With the 30 year age gap between the two of you, Joel was old enough to be your father. This fact alone pained him to realize that you were just a baby at 7 years old on your last Christmas, when his Sarah was almost 12. She would’ve been your big sister, not you being her stepmom. He didn't want to vocalize any of this as he knew you were touchy about the age gap thing. To him, it didn't matter anymore. The world went to shit and so did a lot of the customs. Truth be told, he wanted to fuck a woman 30 years younger than him. Before he used to care about age, but not anymore. However, your statement about him minding his own business made him angry. He snapped his head around and looked at you with intense eyes. He was desperately trying not to lose control of his anger right now.  

You saw that Joel was pissed about your comment, but honestly you didn't give a damn. You were talking with Ellie about Christmas, enjoying the feel of family time yet again when Joel popped his mouth off. You knew you were too young to have had alcohol at your last Christmas, and now being older you saw what your father did was wrong. He gave you alcohol so you would be sleepy and would fall asleep so he could bring a woman back home to sleep with. You remember being 5 when you woke up to hear the bed squeak in your parents bedroom along with grunting and moaning. Your mom always had to work Christmas Day at the hospital as a nurse, and your dad always brought other women home. Dad would always say it would be just a close friend coming over that he'd need to have ‘a private conversation with.’ Yet you'd never see the female come over again. 

You didn't want to verbalize this fact to Joel, as you didn't want to give him another thing that he could judge you for. Your father was unfaithful to your mother and you didn't want to hear Joel's take on that. So after a moment of intense stare down between the two of you, you saw Joel shake his head. He then turned around, mumbling to himself that he was “too old for this shit.”  As soon as you heard that you grumbled “yeah and you're also a fucking asshole too.”

As soon as Joel heard your comment, he was mentally done. Here he was just trying to relax and not fight tonight. He was tired and sore from chopping firewood all day. His back hurt and he also ached for you someplace else. He was hoping that if he could get his back to settle down tonight then maybe he could find some much needed relief with you in the bed later. But now with your comment, he didn't know if he even wanted to attempt anything with you later. You were acting like a spoiled brat, and this was something that he wasn't in the mood for.

“Asshole huh?” He said turning around and snapping at you. “I'm a fucking asshole? Well little girl, let me tell you somethin’. I was 35 at my last Christmas with an 11 year old daughter. I built houses for a living, owned my own damn business. Hell, I even fucked other women while you ran around and played with dolls then, not even knowing what a real man was or what to do with them. You know, if it wasn't for this outbreak, you'd never know who the fuck I was. And just for the record honey, that little immature attitude of yours is a huge turn off. So you can just-”

“Can we not do this tonight?” Ellie yelled at both of you. “Can we have one night, one fucking night, where you assholes ain't at each other's throats, huh? Can both of you do that?” After a moment of silence she then whispered, “please, I-I just want to know what it could've been like before this. What Christmas was as I've never known it.”

Joel sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. There were moments where Joel would forget that Ellie was just a kid and knew nothing of life before the outbreak. Sometimes he'd think that was a blessing because she didn't have to grieve and miss the things the rest of you did. But then there was Christmas, something that she knew nothing about and something so innocent that she lost out on. Every child should have a Christmas, know who Santa is, open presents, and find joy in what the holidays meant. With a sigh and a huff he finally said, “ok kid, what d’ya wanna know?” He then took his seat by the couch again, giving you a quick nod at agreeing to being cordial and not fighting for the night.

Ellie had already turned in for the night, saying that she wished Santa Claus was real. You had spent the majority of the afternoon explaining the idea behind Santa Claus, and why it was something that kids loved.  When Ellie decided to turn in for the night, you got up to do the same. As you got up to leave, Joel reached out and gently touched your arm and said “can we talk, please.” You reluctantly agreed, too tired to start a new argument with him.

“I'm sorry for being a cranky old asshole.” Joel said. “Ya know, sometimes my mouth gets the better of me and I just- damn woman- I sometimes say stuff I don't mean. I was upset hearin’ someone not looking out f’you, not takin' your safety seriously. I guess all I'm tryin’ to say is, I'm sorry and I didn't mean it darlin’.”

With a slow nod you whispered “ok” to him. As you turned again to leave you heard Joel ask, “mind if I tell ya some stories about Sarah and me at Christmas? I-I got a few cute ones and I thought you'd like ‘em. Ya don't have to if ya don't-”

“Joel, I'd love to hear about those stories.” You said with a huge smile plastered on your face. Joel never talked about Sarah. You had learned a long time ago that it was one topic that you were never to bring up. So the fact that Joel wanted to share this information with you delighted  you immensely. It also showed you that Joel trusted you, and was truly sorry for his outburst.

Four hours later you and Joel were sitting by the fire, still laughing at the Christmas stories he was telling. He was currently re-telling a tale of an embarrassing moment he had where he was dressed up as Santa Claus. “Sarah, she was about four and I was puttin’ the presents under the tree, dressed like Santa.” Joel said smiling and shaking his head at the memory. “I was drinking and got a little silly with my girlfriend that night.  Well, next thing I know me and the girlfriend were makin’ out on the couch like a bunch of teenagers. Sarah then walks in and says ‘why is S’ana kissin’ Ce-Ce?’ Cecilia was my girlfriend’s name at the time.”

“Oh god Joel, that must have been horrible” you said, laughing at the situation.  “What did you do?”

Joel, laughing right along with you said, “well, I had to do some fast talkin’. Told her that sometimes if Santa doesn’t find cookies he’ll ask a pretty lady for a kiss.”

“What did she say after that?” you asked, giving Joel your full attention. 

“Well, she was questionin’ it, but after my girlfriend helped her back to bed, we got her to go to sleep.  All was good until the next morning when she blurted out in the kitchen that my girlfriend kissed Santa.  I had to pretend I didn't know, and question my girlfriend why.”

“Geez, talk about funny and humiliating all at once.”

“Sure was, especially when Sarah told everyone around town ‘bout it. That little girl had a mouth on her, even at four. Always wondered where she got it from.” Joel said, shaking his head and laughing at the memory of Sarah at Christmas time.

“She got that mouth from her father I believe” you said nonchalantly with a slight smirk to your face.

“S’that right?” Joel said, looking you slowly up and down with hungry eyes. “If I recall, I didn’t hear ya complaining about this mouth last week. You were beggin’ me not to stop, if I remember right.”  

“Yeah well, you tricked me” you said, trying not to show Joel that you were aroused.  You haven’t been able to stop thinking about that night, the night Joel finally put his mouth on your cunt and ate it like a starved man.  You had been moody all day, irritated at the heavy makeout session the two of you had a week prior with no more than a brief kiss here and there in return since then. You wanted more from the man that you were living with.

Flashback to One Week Prior…Joel had been sitting on the couch at one end, by the fire, reading a book.  You were sitting at the other end reading another book that had a steamy romance scene in it. You had taken up reading some of Joel’s collections of Westerns. The author that you were currently reading had a knack for writing very good romance and smut in her stories.  Joel kept smirking at you periodically as you were hyper focused on reading. 

You had gotten done reading a particularly steamy part of the book and found yourself feeling horribly frustrated, with a deep ache in between your legs. You continued to read a more gentler side to the story. But after a few minutes you found yourself shifting and squirming on the couch, unable to get comfortable. You were pressing your thighs together, trying to find some sort of relief from the pressure that was building up inside your core.  

“Why you squirmin’?” Joel asked slowly, not taking his eyes off his book.

“M’not” you said, while you once again adjusted your position on the couch, exhaling loudly.

“Y’are darlin.’”

“I’m what, Joel?” you said, snapping slightly at him out of sexual frustration.

“You’re squirmin’ baby. What’s the matter, can’t find the proper relief ya need?” he said in a low sultry tone.

Without even thinking, you said with a whine “No and it fucking hurts.” When you looked over at Joel you saw him freeze, slowly looking up from his book. With stern and intense eyes, Joel slowly started looking up and down your body. With adjusting your posture yet again, pressing your thighs harder together, attempting to find relief from the tension and throbbing you felt between your legs. Shock had spread across your face at the realization of what you had just said and how your body was responding. 

Joel continued to study you for a moment before slowly closing his book, and placing it on the end table next to him. When he turned back around to you all you saw was black in his eyes, pupils blown wide with lust. He then whispered “we can’t have ya hurtin’ now honey, can we?” 

Present Day…You were so lost in thought at the flashback of remembering a week ago, and with how good Joel ate your pussy that you never heard Joel ask you a question.  You finally snapped out of your trance when you felt Joel run his nose slowly up and down the side of your jaw, whispering “ya thinking about how that beautiful pussy was drippin’ for me a few nights back baby? Does she need me to give her some attention again?”  

You felt Joel trace his hand up between your legs with featherlight strokes. He was teasing you, working your body up into a frenzy.  He loved to do it, knew how to get your body to purr for him. It heightened your sexual experience with him, one of the biggest reasons why you knew he was an experienced man.  He knew how to get a woman, specifically you, to ache so hard for him before he gave you the release that you and your body craved for. “Joel I-”

“Shhh, baby. Let me take care of you, yeah. I know what she needs.” He said, slowly lowering you down on the couch. Joel also laid down on the couch beside you, slowly kissing you up and down your neck.  He lightly nipped your skin in your most sensitive parts while continuing his featherlike touches to your skin. Joel slowly worked up your legs, making sure to create goosebumps in his path as he sucked and nipped at your neck. Finally you felt him lightly run his finger up and down your seam, feeling the wetness pool inside of your sleep shorts once again.  He continued his touches all the way up your body, lightly circling your breasts and then finally touching your face and lips.  He lightly traced your lips with his thumb, and when you gently nipped at the pad of his thumb you watched his eyes darken.

Your body was vibrating with nervous sexual energy, wanting relief more than anything.  But at the same time you didn’t want to rush him, didn’t want him to stop.  It felt too good, Joel being like this. He definitely was a very attentive lover, making sure you enjoyed every moment with him.  You gently brought his thumb into your mouth and sucked on it, circling your wet tongue around the pad, licking and massaging it like it was his dick.  You heard Joel let out a low growl at the sensation, he was thinking the same thing as you were.

“Fuck baby,” he growled low in your ear. “Not yet. I can’t-” he said, quickly pulling his thumb out with a pop.

“Please baby, can I suck your dick? I wanna suck your dick Joel, please.” You said, practically begging while batting your eyelashes at him.

“Fuck woman,” he said, giving you a pained expression. “Ya can’t do that t’me, can't look at me like that and say that.”

As you listened to Joel and his poor excuse for telling you that you shouldn't, you slowly palmed his crotch. Feeling the hard bulge there, straining against the jeans that he still wore. “Please baby, please let me put my mouth on it. I can feel that it needs some relief. Come on baby, I wanna make you feel good. Don’t you want that, to feel good?” You said, palming Joel a little harder and faster. You were working him up slowly also, nipping at his throat and neck, two weak places you knew Joel had. 

“Please baby, please” you begged, continuing slowly working your mouth over his sensitive areas. You didn't know why but you desperately wanted to suck Joel's dick tonight. Maybe it was because of the argument you two had earlier, or maybe it was because he opened up about Sarah. Whatever the reason was, you knew that you were desperately horny for your man. You wanted to show Joel how good you could make him feel and how much he could relax because of it.

In a husky voice Joel said, “Fuck woman, you’re shit for my resolve, you know that?” He then slowly sat up, unbuckled his belt, and popped open the button on his jeans. When he was fully upright with his back against the couch, you watched him slowly shift his hips down a bit while opening his legs wider for you to kneel between them. He then said in a low voice “well sweetheart, what are ya waiting for? Get that filthy mouth of yours on me, and suck me off.” After you had gotten into position Joel gently cupped your face with one hand and said “you can go slow and I'll help ya if you need it. When you want to stop, we'll stop. No questions asked, ok sweetheart?”

“I know Joel” you said while slowly lowering his zipper and slipping his pants further down his legs with the help from him. “Please just let me do this baby ok? I want to.” Joel nodded in understanding and slowly relaxed. What Joel didn't know was that you were experienced in going down on men. Dave used to take you along when he would make deals to get medicine and other supplies in the QZ. You were always the payment, giving other men blowjobs.  Something you have chosen not to admit to Joel, as you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable.

You used to hate going down on men, but you quickly learned that if you didn’t you would be smacked hard and then beaten by Dave.  So you quickly learned the skill and art of giving men pleasure.  The better you got, the more praise Dave would give you as he scored bigger deals with supplies.  Dave would then reward you afterwards with letting you suck him, something that didn’t anger you.  You loved watching Dave pant beneath your mouth, hiss at sensation, and come undone by your touch. It always would turn you on, plus your reward was Dave not hitting you, a true win in your book at that time. Now, you'd slice Dave's throat without ever thinking twice. Joel could be moody, but he never made you fear him like Dave did.  

As soon as you saw Joel fully in front of you and standing at attention you felt your mouth start to water at how good he looked.  He was big and thick, and already leaking precum from his slit. He was the biggest you'd ever seen and you started to worry your lower lip, doubting yourself and your abilities. “I know it's big, darlin'. It's ok, just work the head a bit, ya don't have to take the entire thing. Just-”

Something about Joel's encouragement snapped you out of your funk. “Baby, please just sit back and relax. Can't I have a moment to appreciate God's masterpiece work here.” Joel just laughed and shook his head but did as he was told. You reached out and slowly teased the head, giving him a few gentle kitten licks with your tongue, testing out how sensitive he was. When you heard him hiss at the sensation, you knew his body would be very receptive to what you wanted to do.

Joel Miller was different, he wasn't one of Dave's partners. He was the man you loved and the person you wanted to see come undone with you. As soon as you gave Joel a little suck on his head, testing the waters to see what worked, he hissed and said “fuck, that mouth” as his hips bucked up into you, forcing himself into you all the way hitting the back of your throat. You lost all rational thought after that, deciding to get to work and work him hard to the edge, teasing and stroking him in the process. You wanted Joel to come undone with you, to give him pleasure where he'd beg for more. It gave you the biggest ego trip and confidence booster that a woman 30 years younger could do this to his dick that someone his age couldn't.

You started swirling your tongue around his head, cock now at full attention and throbbing. “Fuck baby, how are you so good at this?” Joel hissed, thrusting up into your mouth yet again.

“Baby, you gotta stay still and let me take care of you” you said, biting him on his thigh, right next to his heavy balls.  As soon as you did that he yelped, not in pain but in surprise. With a smirk on your face you started slowly licking the underside of his massively hard cock.  Joel was definitely bigger and thicker and your pussy clenched hard at nothing at the thought of him stretching you out down there, something for a later day, you thought.

You slowly licked up the underside of his dick, following the vein that was present there.  When you got to the top of his head, you gently kissed it with a wet open mouth kiss as you worked your way back down.  When you got back down to the base, you licked his balls, giving them some much needed attention. You knew with the proper attention of alternating tongue movements and sucking motions you could get men to completely melt.  It took a second but when you heard “fuck, fuck, god damn baby. Quiero follarte la boca,” you knew you were doing good. 

As you continued your ministrations, you slowly found Joel unraveling slightly before you. He was muttering to himself under his breath. “What does that mean in Spanish?” You asked, while slowly stroking his cock in slow languid movements. When you went back to lapping at his precum that was leaking from his slit, you heard Joel quietly moan your name.

“It means, woman, that I want- God- I want to fuck your mouth.” He said, slamming his head back and moaning at the quick tongue work you were now doing around his head.

“God damnit woman, stop fucking teasing me” he growled, snapping his eyes open to look at you. You loved feral Joel, eyes blown black with lust and threatening you.

“Oh” you said, a small smirk coming across your face. “You don’t want me to do this” you said, closing your mouth around his head while slowly moving just a little bit, sucking lightly at the tip of his head.  It was just enough to give him pleasure, but not enough to satisfy that deep need of you taking him all the way in your mouth like he wanted you to.  After a few more strokes of your tongue you looked up and saw Joel absolutely wrecked.

Joel had his head on the back of the couch, mouth open panting at your teasing that you were doing. He kept flexing his hands open and closed, trying not to slam your head hard down on him. It's been a long time since Joel's had another woman around his cock, trying to get him off.  

Usually women never knew how to get him off, so he'd just have them stop and then he'd focus on their pleasure. But you, you were a God damn demon, sent from both Heaven and Hell to give him pleasure, and boy was it torture of the best kind. Joel's never been this worked up just by a little teasing.  Usually women would suck him for a few minutes, get tired, and then he’d give them the best orgasm of their life with his mouth. If he usually couldn't have sex with women then he’d relieve himself later in the bathroom.

But you were different, he was trying so desperately hard not to come. He didn't want this to be over yet. So when you cupped his balls again and licked him, he bit down hard on his hand and slammed the other one sideways into the back of the couch.  You saw the reaction and slowly raised your head up and smiled at him while running your thumb over his slit saying “what’s wrong baby, want me to stop?”

Joel knew he wasn't a good man, especially with what he was thinking about wanting to do to you right now. He wanted to grab you by the throat, slam you down on the ground and fuck your brains out because of all the teasing you were doing.  He was feral, panting hard while looking down at you.  When you gently blew cool air on his throbbing dick he started cursing, both in English and Spanish yet again. He also growled at you and said, “Stop your fucking teasing woman, or ya ain’t gonna like what I’m gonna do.”

“Look here Joel,” you said, feeling confident in your ability at the moment.  “I got to hear you every night for 2 years being balls deep inside Tess while I cried myself to sleep in the room next to yours. So excuse me if you don't like me teasing you when I can finally have you. You have no idea what teasing is. I’ve wanted you for longer than you can possibly imagine.”

Something inside of Joel snapped at this admission, not that he was angry with your admittance, but that he was angry at your lack of understanding him.  He moved quickly, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head on the floor as he laid on top of you while growling at you “don’t you ever fucking say that again. You have no idea what I want, or what I’ve wanted for a long time. Ya think I didn’t know you were crying next door. Baby, Tess walked out cause I moaned your name when I was balls deep inside her. I’ve wanted you, hell woman, I fucking want you now in this life and the next.” he said with a roll of his hips. His hardened cock was slowly stroking in between your clothed sleep shorts, rubbing your needy clit in the process.  

“I want you all the time, that’s my problem baby. I’m trying to do this right y/n.  God, te amo, querida.”  He couldn’t say it in English, not yet.  But Joel just said ‘I love you darling’ in Spanish.

You didn’t know what Joel was saying in Spanish, and it pained you that you didn't know he could speak it. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn't know the ‘before the outbreak’ Joel. You tried convincing yourself that he'd still care even if there wasn't the outbreak. But you knew you changed, that your exterior was hardened because of survival. So you rationalized in your mind that the Joel you knew now was different from the other Joel, and that maybe because of that he'd still find the possibility to love you, like you loved him.

In all truth your problem was that you loved Joel.  You loved someone who you didn't think wholeheartedly loved you back.  With looking at him in this moment though you could see that he was pleading for you to believe him, to believe that you mattered and that he cared.  With a gentle nod of your head you said “ok Joel, I understand.” You then gently kissed him on the lips, trying to show him you understood.  However, the next thing you knew the gentle kiss turned heated. Pretty soon Joel had his hands down your sleep shorts and was thrusting his fingers in and out of your drenched and soaked pussy, while you were stroking his hardened member fast.  You two made out with wet sloppy kisses, moaning and grunting in response.  

“I want you baby, fuck, I need you” Joel said, whispering in your ear. He didn't want tonight to be the night he fucked you on the floor. But God, he was struggling with this concept. He so desperately wanted to be inside of you, to tell you he loved you and wanted a life with you. He wanted marriage, to have babies, and to live a life with you like before. But that was the problem, he couldn't have all of that. He knew that if he fucked you right now in his mindset he'd never pull out, and that was something he couldn't risk at the moment.

Joel grabbed your leg and hoisted it up on his shoulder while he continued to fuck you hard, fast and deep with two of his big fingers, while adding circles to your clit with his thumb. He curled them inside and found that soft spongy area of yours. If he couldn't fuck you the way he wanted to, he could at least give you this. After adjusting his angle, he heard you let out a loud moan at the sensation, that's when he knew he had it, your g-spot.

“That's it baby, that's it” he said as he watched your back start to arch off the floor. “Come on honey, give her to me.”

“Oh God, fuck Joel. I'm-I’m”

“That's right baby, let go. Come on sugar, cum for me.”

As you started to orgasm you moaned loud and Joel slammed his mouth onto yours to help keep you quiet. Joel didn't let up his pace, he continued to fuck you hard through it, giving you praises the entire way. He told you that you were “a good girl” and that he was “so proud of you” for relaxing and letting him have this. Once your body went limp Joel took his soaked fingers out of you and gave himself a few more good firm strokes with his soaked hand. When he came, he moaned your name and spilled his seed onto your thigh.

As you both laid there panting, relaxing in the afterglow of your orgasms, you were slowly running your fingers through Joel's hair.  Joel’s eyes were closed, and he was laying on his side facing you, holding you close.  There was a blanket draped over the two of you, something he grabbed and draped over you after both of your pants were off, just in case Ellie came in.  You two were laying there for about 30 minutes, just relaxing into each other and warming yourselves by the fire. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” Joel asked, as he curled into you more. He could tell that you were lost deep in thought, mulling something over hard in your head.

With a long exhale you said “nothing.”

Joel could definitely tell that something was on your mind, so he slowly propped himself up on his elbows saying “come on, tell me. Please sugar.”

“It's just- are we ever going to be more than this. More than two people who fight and then makeup to not get closer. I-”

Joel could see it in your face, you wanted a promise of a life together, more than just a warm body to fall into. With a slow smile he said “baby, you mean more to me than just this. Te amo, sweetheart. Forever.” Joel then slowly leaned down and kissed you gently on the lips. When he was done he gently nudged you with his nose and said “now stop your fussin’ and go to sleep.” With that Joel laid back down and tucked you tight against him.

You were lazily running your fingers over his beard, loving the feel of the patchiness of it. When you looked up at him, you saw that he looked content.  Something that you never thought you’d ever see Joel Miller look in a world where survival was the golden rule.  Getting caught up in the moment, and the look of him, you whispered “Joel, I love you.” 

Joel tightened his hold around you again and kissed you gently, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and breathing you in.  He was tracing small circles on your belly when he felt you slowly drift off to sleep, your breath evening out.  He pulled back and sat upright on his elbows, looking down at your breathing and sleeping form.  He whispered ever so slightly “I love you too baby, and I promise honey, you’ll have the best Christmas possible.”  Joel then lightly kissed your forehead while staring at the empty spot in the corner.  Come morning, Joel was finding you and Ellie a Christmas tree.  

It had been 20 years since the breakout and the last Christmas that Joel had. His memory of the last time was still vivid in his mind after all these years though. She was still alive and running through the house, excited to see that her father still gave her a present under the tree from Santa.  She was old enough that she knew Santa was no longer the magical being that he was, that he was in fact her father.  She eagerly sat in her pajamas ripping into the large gift that was wrapped in front of her while Joel slowly stood in the living room sipping his morning coffee, wearing matching flannel pajamas.  As soon as she ripped off the paper she froze, and looked at the large box while saying “Are you serious?”  

Her father, after taking a slow sip of his coffee, smirked and said “what did Santa bring you Bug?” a nickname he gave her at birth, Sarah Bug, or just Bug for short.  It was like he was transported into time when she was 4 and opened her favorite doll from Santa, but this time he saw his preteen daughter open up her very own stereo. The stereo that was still in her room on breakout day before he left to go get Tommy.  

Joel felt the tear slip down his cheek at the memory of Sarah running up to her father and kissing him all over his face, jumping up and down and saying how excited she was and a line of thank yous given to him. He knew he nailed it that year for her for Christmas, considering her mother was no longer in the picture anymore.  As Joel was pulled back to reality of you shifting and snuggling into him, silently sleeping he found himself feeling that same joy that he felt wrapping Sarah’s present for her as he now was planning Christmas for you and Ellie. A proper Christmas for you both, something he thought he’d never want to do again.    

This year Santa comes again, and for once it's my present he'll bring, Joel thought holding you close and kissing you slowly on the forehead. This year Joel gets his Christmas present, a family once again. A family of you and Ellie. And with that thought he slowly drifted off to sleep, having pleasant dreams once again in his life. Something he thought was never possible to have yet again.

End Chapter

A/N: Next part is titled “A Christmas Story.” These three will be having an amazing Christmas post outbreak. I'll try to get it up before Christmas but it may come a little later. I've recently got really sick with a bad autoimmune flare again so writing and focusing is sometimes difficult. Stories will still be coming out, just a little slower in the process. Enjoy 

Taglist: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark @untamedheart81 @rainbow12346 @nandan11 @swiftpascal @eliza-8 @joeldjarin @vickie5446 @nastiasnow @staywildflowahchild @ratoonstown @l3laze @its-always-420-on-the-moon @kirsteng42

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel and reader #pedro pascal #joel miller masterlist #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel the last of us #joel x ellie #joel and ellie #my journey to you #joel x reader #joel tlou #joel x f!reader #joel x you #joel x y/n #joel x female reader #joel x sarah #joel and sarah #joel and female #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou2 #ellie tlou #joel miller and female #the last of us hbo #ellie the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Self-Indulgent HCs

pairing(s): Frank Castle x fem!Reader, Matt Murdock x fem!Reader, Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader

summary: How each of the boys would care for you when you were sick, headcanons bc i am tired

warnings: non-graphic, general descriptions of sickness (just cold/fever, not covid)

a/n: this month was already rough on my allergies but i came down with quite possibly the worst cold I’ve ever had. (It’s literally so bad i had to use PTO instead of WFH days? I am literally dying.) I wrote this when I was feverish and couldn’t sleep to make myself feel better. I hope someone out there likes it 😭

Frank

I think Frank would worry a lot when his partner was sick.

He’s lost so many people and he doesn’t have a huge circle so i think it takes him by surprise a little.

But he’d do his best to hide his worries by going about his day and comforting you.

He’d get fresh produce from the store and make you delicious soup, pick up tissues and medicine for you, threaten anyone who tried to make you go into work

“Your boss still pullin’ that shit? Gimme the phone, let me talk to ‘em”

He loves being your big spoon anyways but he would not let you go if you looked or sounded ill. You’d be nestled carefully against his chest while he stroked your back until you fell asleep.

He’d keep you entertained by reading to you or watching whatever TV your fever-ridden mind is craving.

Above all, he wouldn’t leave your side until you were feeling better.

The smile on his face the next time you take him out would be brilliant. He’s just so happy that you’re here with him and feeling better.

Matt

Personally, i hate the idea of getting people sick more than actually being sick sometimes but i think this would especially be the case with Matt

His senses are so delicate, I wouldn’t want to fuck with him by being gross and loud or by getting him sick.

But there is no way this man isn’t the biggest self-sacrificing-mother-hen when someone he loves is sick.

He’d sense your illness before you would, and encourage you to take it easy and sleep a bit extra that week (above all, he’s a hypocrite.)

Of course, he’s a bit embarrassed of everything he can do, or maybe you don’t know the extent of what he is capable of, so he plays it off as “you’ve been working so hard lately, sweetheart, you need to take it easy.”

A day or two before the bug hits you like a truck, he’d come over with a bag from the pharmacy that’s just chock-full of DayQuil and Tea and cough drops and like a single bandaid

He poorly plays it off as “uh, your first aid kit was low, remember?”

Once you’re well and truly sick, he’d be stubborn as a mule if you tried to keep him away. You lock him out of your apartment? You wake up from a nap wrapped in a Devil-shaped blanket to find that someone picked your window lock.

At that point, you just cave and let him stay because you are so cold and he’s so so warm.

Mikey

Not afraid of using his puppy dog eyes to get you to stay home or in bed.

Also not afraid of crying wolf and pretending that he’s not feeling well to make you take a break

“Sorry, pet, my head is hammerin’. Think we could lay down fer a bit?”

Combined WITH the puppy eyes? You don’t stand a chance.

Though you usually take care of the housework while he’s dealing with his family’s business, he wouldn’t let you lift a finger until your temperature was normal and your voice came back.

It’s as if you’re the only person that exists to him, he’s running around trying to anticipate your every need.

It’s been a while since he’s dealt with the real world so he might ask Birdy for advice on how to care for a sick person.

Lots of home remedies (idk just vibes.)

He would have you lean against him in a scalding shower to clear your sinuses or draw you a nice bath.

Keep cool water and a cloth by the bed to bring your fever down.

Hand you cup after cup of tea until you have to threaten to tie him to the bed.

“Just lay with me, please”

“Of course, pet. Anything fer ya.”

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #frank castle #matt murdock x you #my writing #charlie cox #the punisher #frank castle x reader #marvel #michael kinsella #mikey kinsella #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #frank castle imagines #frank castle headcanon #frank castle headcanons #matt murdock headcanon #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fanfic #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x f!reader #michael kinsella x reader #kin rte #mm #mk #fc

[snek-panini]

It's Friday the 13th! Here, have a book completely unrelated to that:

It looks fairly straightforward from here, but this is a bind of @dietraumerei's wonderful Good Omens series, The Sprawl of Life. It's a canon universe, pre-season-2 South Downs Cottage fic, and I typeset it when I did because I'd just watched season 2 and wanted the fluffiest, sweetest, most slice-of-life thing I could think of and this was it. Seriously, if you have been personally victimized by the season 2 finale this might be the antidote you're looking for. Though admittedly some of the lines do hit a lot more bittersweetly now than they did when I first read it in 2019.

More pics under the cut! This one's got an unusual format, go have a look!

It's a dos-a-dos! My first one! Before I started making books I'd never even heard of this format, but I've been wanting to try it ever since I found it. It's hard to find stories that suit the format, though--they've got to be within a certain word count, about the same length, and related to one another, and they have to be a pair, not a three or four part story. They look super complicated without (I've found, anyway) actually being that hard to make. If you want to impress a non-bookbinder make one of these to show them; all my family were fascinated by it.

For materials, the floral cover is scapbook paper from Joann's (the fancy stuff that's very flexible and feels handmade) and the spine is Allure book cloth from Hollander's in the wisteria color. It's a perfect match for the lavender in the paper. I've only previously used the Lineco/Books By Hand book cloth and gotten good results, but my experience with that brand in general was that it's a cheap, readily available base for starting out, but there are wider and better quality options out there once you get away from chain craft stores. Working with this cloth was proof of that. It's stiffer than the Lineco stuff, which made it a little harder to glue down but not enough to cause problems, and it took HTV better than any other surface I've used it on. Here, check out the spines:

Images of the spines. In case the photos are a little blurry, that's Demolishing Proofs We Never Believed In on the left and The World and its Beautiful Particle Logic on the right. The titles gave me some worries. I didn't want to obscure more of the florals by putting them on the front, but was worried they wouldn't fit on the spines since they're so long. I got them on, but it took a lot of careful measurements. Still, though, I couldn't be more pleased by them, and I barely had any of my usual trouble getting the HTV to stick.

Handmade end bands on both sides, in colors matched to the cover paper. I was a little worried about making my own for this project since the text blocks are only about 100 pages each. I was worried they'd be too short. But they're not, and I got a really nice front bead on them. I wanted to do three colors but that proved too challenging for my current skill level. Maybe next time. The second image is the endpaper. Specifically it's the back endpaper, so you can see how the second spine fits into the case. When you read a dos-a-dos, you read the first part, then flip it over like you're going to read the back blurb and there's the second part ready to go. I only explain this because, having never made one, I thought you flipped it over top-to-bottom until I did the case fitting for this one. The top-to-bottom one it called a tete-beche and I think does not have the shared cover board in the center; the pages are connected upside-down. (This is all from my limited research; pro bookbinders please correct me if I'm wrong.)

Couple of interior images. All the graphics came from rawpixel and they are the same in both halves. I kept the typeset really simple on this one, without any extra graphics. Partly that was to keep the page count down (images can take up extra space) and partly it's a reflection of the text. It's a happily ever after story, mostly. Their lives are so much easier here than in canon, and the focus is on communicating without barriers or frills and on building their relationship without other things getting in the way. So it's got a fancy title page, because it matches the cover, but the rest is straightforward with just some simple swirls around the chapter numbers.

I couldn't be more pleased with how this turned out. I was worried it would be very complicated since it's a new-to-me build, but I was exaggerating the difficulty and that made for an easy bind. I hope the author likes it too.

#bookbinding #fanbinding #snek makes books #good omens #fic rec #dos-a-dos #did i forget to tag something? #it feels like i forgot to tag something #oh well

[pumpkin-cake]

Forever Cold

touya todoroki x gn!reader

summary - enji todoroki causes more destruction and damage to his son’s life

warnings - character death, somewhat graphic depictions of a corpse, cursing

Dabi didn’t think Endeavor could cause him more pain and misery than what he experienced as a child. Along with all the neglect and abuse, Endeavor took the one thing he just so happened to care about after his years of isolation.

He’d assumed his phone ringing with your name on it to be you just checking in. He’d mentioned he had things to do, and you were going to be working late. So, when you called, he shrugged it off. He was busy anyway. You usually called while you were on lunch. You could wait.

How he wished he just called off whatever Shigaraki had asked him to do. It wasn’t worth never hearing your voice ever again. Nothing was. How was he supposed to know that you couldn’t wait?

He imagined your pure fear as hot, angry flames devoured the building around you. Your heart falling into your stomach when the words ‘called failed’ came up on your screen. It haunted him constantly. His ringtone he’d set for you constantly playing on loop inside his brain.

Dabi was never really bothered by the cold. Ever since he got his quirk, things felt hot. Not to the point of panting and sweating, but the atmosphere was always warm. After he ran away, it became hotter with bitterness and hatred. It was a crackling blue flame that spread about anywhere he went. As soon as he saw the charred remains of the building you worked at, everything went cold.

Dabi slowly crept towards the apartment you lived in. He couldn’t stand crashing at the League. He had trouble sleeping anyway, and that place definitely didn’t make it any better. But he knew he always was welcomed into your abode, despite the fact you could be in real trouble if you were ever discovered with the murderer known as Dabi.

He was always a little salty that you lived on the third floor. It was such a pain in the ass to get up there, but it was absolutely worth it if he got to see you. The person who made him feel warm, but not an angry warm. That gross warmness he saw from couples in the street, or a child getting ice cream.

“Stupid…fucking…apartment…on the damn third floor…” he grumbled under his breath as he scaled the tree that just so conveniently gave him access to your balcony. He had to make a small leap there, but it wasn’t a big deal. He let out a quiet sigh of relief and reached to slide open the door. When he did, that feeling of warmness didn’t come intrusively washing upon him.

He noticed that your shoes weren’t by the door on the shoe rack. Your coat wasn’t hanging on the coat rack. Your keys weren’t in the bowl on the little coffee table in front of your couch. He checked the time. You should be home. It was midnight. He shut the sliding door and instantly roamed the apartment. No signs of dinner in the kitchen or any kind of takeout. He walked into the bathroom. The mirror wasn’t foggy from the scalding hot showers you always took. Your toothbrush was bone dry.

The final place was your bedroom. You weren’t curled up in bed with a mound of blankets covering your body. No soft music that lulled you to sleep. Your clothes weren’t tossed on the floor after you took them off to sleep.

There were no signs of a break-in, which put Dabi at a bit of ease. Not by much. If you weren’t going to be home, you would have let him know. He left your apartment, carefully jumping from the balcony after making sure your door was shut properly. His immediate though was work. Did you get so caught up you forgot the time?

Unfortunately, that hadn’t been the case.

The burnt remains of his colossal failure stayed on the street near your apartment. His failure to protect the one thing he cared about always stared him in the face whenever he closed his eyes. It always reeled him back into that feeling of guilt and anger, no matter the situation. Harassing innocents, meetings with the League, or just laying in his bed. The feeling of his blood running ice cold when his eyes laid upon the disaster that ruined the one good thing he had going for him.

Dabi recognized the orange and red flames licking the remains of the building immediately. Endeavor. He took cover in an alley, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any heroes.

Dabi’s eye caught a glimpse of a person that was a regular civilian and his hand immediately moved out and grabbed them by the shoulder.

“You. What the hell happened there?” He scowled, ignoring the person’s obvious distress. That didn’t matter. The person gasped at the sight of the villain in front of them, stammering out what happened between begs for their life. Dabi let them go, eyes wide.

Endeavor had punched a villain into the building with his stupid fire fists. Out of all the buildings he chose to fuck up…it was yours.

Without any care of who saw, he darted out from the alley and to the wreckage, stepping over concrete and ash. Frantically, he dug through anything he could find. Maybe you survived. Maybe they just didn’t find you.

Anything that didn’t make Dabi too late.

Eventually, he stepped on something that didn’t feel like the ground, ash, or concrete. A silent gasp escaped his throat when he looked down to see what he had stepped on.

A body.

Dabi shot up from his bed, gasping for air. The dream visited him every night, refusing to go away. Every time he closed his eyes he would relive the moment where he stepped on your charred, blackened, jerky-like corpse. He remembered seeing the melted nameplate just a little ways from your corpse. Hard to read, but he instantly knew it was your name. This was where your office was. Where he should’ve gone immediately if he had picked up the phone.

And it was all Enji Todoroki’s fault.

He remembered that while standing atop Machia, the water running down his hair, then his face, then his clothes.

“Don’t call me that.” He hummed, feeling the black dye run away. “I’ve got this splendid name already-Touya.”

The look on his father’s face didn’t even make up for what he had done. No matter what he did to torture Endeavor mentally or physically, it would never ever compare to how Touya felt seeing you dead due to Endeavor’s actions.

Touya almost wished he did end up with Shoto’s quirk. Maybe then could he control the frigidness that courses through his veins at every waking and sleeping minute. Even though his mother passed down her resistance to cold, it was getting harder and harder to push down the iciness you left behind. 

Nothing would ever be able to soothe the agonizing, numbing cold by his side every night whilst he slept.

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#my hero academia #boku no academia #dabi my hero academia #dabi x reader #angst #touya todoroki #gn!reader #toya todoroki #endeavor