#self indulgent fic

[whiskeyghoul]

She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid X Goth!reader]

A/N: self indulgent little fic here. I have been in a writing slump for a few weeks and needed to do something just a little self indulgent. So we have this which has been on my mind for ever. I love Abby Sciuto from NCIS and thought how fun it would be to see our little nerd fall in love with the alternative lab rat of the FBI. This is not proof read or anything so it might not be the absolute best but I just wanted to put something out here again.

WC: 1737

Tags: fluff, crush, first meeting, love at first sight possibly, multiple parts, opposites attract, self indulgent fic, reader is described as female, reader is alternative

Warnings: Mention of human remains.

Read part 2 here, read part 3 here

The music coming from the lab was muffled. Even through the closed door Spencer could hear the barely legible lyrics as he got closer and closer. As he reached the door and knocked there seemed to be no answer. Certain his knocking wouldn’t be heard over the noise that he now recognized as Siouxsie and the banshees. He opened the door. As soon as the barrier between him and the music was lifted it sounded so clear. It was turned up to 11 and he wondered how anyone could even focus with music that loud.

That was until he saw you, swaying along to the music, the white coat exaggerated the movements. Swishing from side to side as you reach for a pasteur pipette while bobbing your head along to the music. You seemed absorbed in the music, focussed on your work leaning over the bench and carefully dripping a clear substance on a piece of paper while still perfectly on beat with the music. Spencer cleared his throat loudly, hoping to make himself known before he interrupted you in whatever you seemed to be doing. Though it didn’t quite reach the decibel level to alert you. “L/N” he called out your last name but once again no response. So he took a few steps closer. Once Spencer was close enough he reached out and softly tapped your shoulder. You jumped in response, whirling around in shock with the pipette in your hands raised like a weapon. Like somehow you would be able to defend yourself with the lab instrument. A yelp falling from your lips. 

“Oh my god! Can’t you knock!” You accused, eyes wide as you placed your free hand on the top of your chest, taking a deep breath. “I did. I also tried to clear my throat to not scare you.” Spencer retorted, his voice raised a little louder so you could hear him over the music. You twirled around, placing the pipette in the holder. “I’m Doctor Reid, from the BAU.” He continued loudly. You turned, holding your left hand up to shush him. Your right fishing the remote from your coat pocket. It gave Spencer some time to look you over. 

Your lab coat was about the only light thing you wore. The outfit underneath was black on black on black. A band tee with illegible writing that peeked over a corset, layered with a ripped fishnet top underneath. The abundance of necklaces of all different lengths, cascading down your neck like silver waterfalls. Ripped jeans he wasn’t quite sure were safe for the lab environment, but the skin of your thigh caught his attention. Something inside of him stirring. He fidgeted with his hands in front of his body.

“So… you were saying?” You spoke. Spencer’s eyes snapped back to your face. You looked up at him with big eyes, a small smile accompanying them. The music was turned down now giving him room to think. Though your eyes still made it difficult to really focus. “Oh, I am Doctor Reid, from the BAU.”  He answered after swallowing for a moment. “Ah! You are here for the clothing analysis, right? Penelope mentioned one of the team would come pick it up. Normally it's her or Derek, though I think Derek has complained about hearing loss.” You whirled around while rambling on, pony tail waving behind as you turned, bounding over to a table with scattered papers. Spencer followed close behind, not focussing on the words rather just the tone of your voice, a slight intrigue towards you. He didn’t even know your first name, yet somehow your mannerisms, your unconventional style, it made him want to know more. “Right.” He said, realizing he hadn’t technically answered your questions. 

Spencer looked over your shoulder as you picked up a stack of papers neatly stapled together. He thought he might be a bit too close as he could smell the subtle perfume wafting off of you. Though he also strangely enjoyed it. It was sweet but not overly so. A hint of cherry that was fitting in his eyes. The color of the fruit matching that of your lipstick. As you looked over the paper and began to talk again, “So, the substance that was on the clothes seems to be turpentine. Commonly used in oil painting. The vapors can already cause irritation to the eyes, skin, and airways if exposed to them for longer periods of time.” you rambled off the words as you read them. “There were some other things found on the clothes that coincide with the oil painting. Different pigments and paint residue.” You turned, eyes still on the paper nearly bumping into Spencer as he had been standing so close. When you looked up at him surprised he could feel a tightening in his chest. “Oops, sorry.” You apologized, a small smile on your lips.

You apologized to him while he was the one in your way. “Oh it was my fault. Shouldn’t have stood so close. Sorry.” He muttered. The words falling from his lips unceremoniously. He felt like half of his intelligence had up and left his brain as he talked to you. Not really knowing what to say at that moment. His hands fidgeted at his sides again. His left hand playing with the hem of his cardigan sleeve. He cursed himself internally for being reduced to a stumbling mess in front of you. You kept standing there though. Clearly you had turned around to go somewhere and Spencer had been in your way. Yet he was nailed in place and so, it seemed to him, were you. “Did you know they used to make oil paints with human remains?” You spoke excitedly. Like you had been waiting to tell someone, anyone, that little fact. He knew that. He knew that for a long time yet seeing you, tell him a fact with such delight, made him want to lie. “Now I do.” He answered, his smile matching yours.

“It was called mummy brown. They ground up mummies, both human and animal, and put it in the paint.” You continued. Your voice trailing off slightly after the word animal. You held up the stack of papers to him. “Everything you need is in there. If you need me to clarify something just give me a call. Or stop by whenever you want.” Spencer nods after your sentence. Taking the papers from you his hand touched yours ever so slightly. His brain short circuited for a moment before the neurons started firing accordingly again. “I eh- I don’t have your number.” he stumbled over the words.

As if you realized that in that moment you took a step aside and walked past him. Walking over to a desk and rummaging through a drawer. Spencer walked a bit closer to your desk. No longer being nailed in place by some unspeakable force. You pulled out a thin sharpie, and Spencer raised a brow ever so slightly at that. You walked back over, holding out your hand to grasp his. Spencer placed his hand in yours. His mouth felt incredibly dry for a moment. His tongue was uncomfortable in his mouth. His heartbeat raced faster. Nothing like he had ever really felt before. You could have done it on the papers, or maybe even a sticky note. Yet you decided that his hand would be the perfect place to write down your number. He thought about it for a moment, your hand was soft and warm. You twisted his hand, writing down your phone number along with your name. Once you finished you let go off his hand. Spencer looked at the black numbers, committing them to memory, and your name. God your name would be bouncing around his head for days. “Y/N.” He said, testing the name. It felt right.

“That’s me, you better put that in your phone. These markers are not nearly as permanent on skin. It’s the oils.” You went on, capping the marker as you spoke. “I will. Thank you.” Spencer said and smiled. He stayed standing in place for another moment. Trying to commit you to memory just in case his eidetic memory failed him. He realized he was staring a little and cleared his throat. “I eh… I have to go.” pointing his thumb to the door. You giggled a little, a sound that made Spencer’s cheek heat up a little. “Right, pretty boy, head on out. I need to get back to work too.” You smiled casually. Spencer’s face was only heating up more. He swallowed. The nickname the others used for him sounded so much better when it came from you. He turned around to hide his ever heating face from your sight, walking over to the door quickly. Once in the opening he quickly looked back, giving an awkward wave that you returned with a smile. 

When Spencer entered the bullpen his face had calmed down a little. Not feeling nearly as hot as before. He was able to think clearly again, but when he looked at your number and name on his hand he felt giddy inside. Reaching his desk he sat down, placing the analysis file on his desk. “That took you long enough, pretty boy.” Derek called out from his desk, humor in his voice. The nickname had no effect when he said it. “Sorry, the lab tech… she was explaining some things to me.” Spencer quickly lied. “Alright, can I get the file?” Derek had his hand already out. Spencer gave him the file and Derek’s brows raised at the number scribbled on his hand. “You got her number?” He smirked. Spencer pulled his hand back covering the numbers and your name with his other hand. “If something needed more clearing up.” He retorted. Derek merely chuckled at his awkwardness, “She’s friends with Garcia, you wouldn’t have needed her phone number.” He added with a smirk. Spencer felt his face heat up a little again, embarrassed. He knew that. He knew that he had known that. But in that moment he couldn’t think.

He looked back at his hand. Your name on his skin. A little flutter in his chest kicked up when he did. Derek cleared his throat, making Spencer look up again. Derek pointed at him with his pen, before opening his mouth. “You better call her soon.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #Goth reader #self indulgent fic #fanfic writer #tumblr writer

[littlebluespoon]

Being self indulgent rn (fluff, whump)

John Price massaging your head while you have a migraine.

He brings you everything you need. Painkillers, ice pack, tens machine, medicine, hot water bottle. Everything you’ve ever used against a migraine. He’s got several bottle of water and juice and plenty of snacks all in arms reach.

He lies down in the bed and pulls your back to his chest. He turns out all the lights and puts on the white noise machine. And then he just lies there with you, humming at every noise of pain out of you. Slowly and ever so gently scratching your head with one hand while the other massages and other sore spots in your muscles. Making sure to keep you relaxed so you don’t hurt anything else in your brain fog.

Every so often he lifts a cup, snack or painkiller to your mouth and you take it. He hand feeds you everything, he keeps track of when you can have more painkillers. If you need to throw up he’s got the bucket already there. If you need to pee, he’s carrying you.

He’s your eyes, hands, brain and whatever else you need during this. He just takes care of you, all of your needs are his only thought while you’re in pain.

#bluespoonswriting #call of duty fanfic #john price x reader #captain price x reader #cod headcanons #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #captain john price x reader #self indulgent fic

[v3nusxsky]

Hello!

Can you please write Lesso x Larissa with sub!Lesso?

Lesso was being a brat and Larissa decided to punish her.

Thank you :)

What a brat 18+

*Authors note~ I may have been inspired for this one and low key not mad about this one. A very self indulgent fic for me*

Trigger warnings~ dom Larissa sub Leo long distance relationship, phone sex overstimulation kink forced orgasms orgasm denial breaking of rules, degrading kink sex toys enchanted by magic, sorta Morden au? Mommy kink dumbification?

Prompt~see ask^^^^

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Larissa finally settled into bed and picked up her phone at gone midnight, meaning it would be six in the evening for her red headed lover. A nightly ritual between her and her lover was a late night call, often they spoke of their days or what was going on in the respective school. But as your relationship devolved so did the late night calls. It was very clear who wore the trousers in this relationship and that was the blonde. Leonora being so misunderstood and forced to be strong and dominant meant she craved the submission, even if she was a bit of a brat about it. But Larissa is capable of handling her bratty girl even though she was a distance away. And Leonora knew she could, perhaps that’s why she pushed her buttons tonight.

In the schools of good and evil, Leonora retired to her chambers earlier than normal due to the Dean of goods need to throw and overwhelming ball. It wasn’t a requirement for her to go and she would much rather speak to Larissa, she knew she had five more months before she left for Jericho. Five more lonely months of missing her. Having about fifteen more minutes until Larissa would call Leonora couldn’t help but try to quell the ache between her legs that occurred whenever she thought of the woman. Sure it was breaking one of Larissa’s rules, but she wouldn’t have to know right?

The shrill of her phone ringing disturbed the poor woman who was so close to chasing her high, so close in fact she couldn’t bare to stop herself from falling over the edge. Larissa was going to great her girl until a borderline pornographic moan of her name reached her ears. “My darling girl, what on earth are you doing” Larissa purred down the receiver causing the redhead to whimper and still her own hand. “I, uh mommy” she whimpered with guilt laced in every word. “Now now, were you touching yourself? Tell mommy the truth.” There was a pregnant pause as a response was waited for. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry mommy, I didn’t mean to” she whined knowing damn well Larissa wouldn’t let this slide. She’d very clearly broken rule number one and two.

“Oh my bratty love, you know that won’t work darling, if you wish to act like a slut then I’ll treat you like one. You will do everything I say as this is a punishment my pretty girl. I’ll know if you don’t.” Leonora didn’t even get a chance to respond before the call was cut off only to be replaced by the ringing of an incoming video chat. “Mommy please, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again” she moaned but Larissa had already decided and nothing would change her mind. There was just something about the great dean of evil crying and begging her for more and to stop at the same time that drove her insane. “Go and get mommy’s special toy love, you’re going to cum as much as I desire, I’m so glad I got my spell teacher to enchant this love.”

Instantly she knew Larissa was referring to the recent gift, they toy could be activated from Nevermore and effect the redhead, as well as when it was activated the recipient wouldn’t be able to move due to the immobilising spell. A very undignified squeak left Leonora as she tugged at her invisible bonds. “Mommy” she whined pitifully, pouting at her phone in an attempt to change her mind. “No you’ve been such a slut, not even waiting for mommy, asking mommy if you could touch that pretty pussy. You’re going to get everything you deserve my dirty girl.”

The buzzing sounds of the toy bounced around the room accompanied by the gasps of Leonora, Larissa couldn’t help but slip a hand under her night slip to play with her own breasts. Soon enough the redhead had approached the edge once more for the night and Larissa couldn’t help but turn the toy off. “Mommy! Why please! what?” she whined clearly quite far gone already. “Don’t be such a whore baby, mommy comes first you know that” Larissa tutted, “show mommy just how good she makes her slutty baby feel.”

With that the buzzing of the enchanted toy came back to life, Larissa now taking it upon herself to spread her legs and dip her slender fingers into her needy cunt as Leonora mewled and pleaded to cum. Each time she got closer Larissa would turn the toy off, enjoying the strangled cries and pleas from Leonora. “Please mommy, wanna make you feel so good” she whimpered which was what finally threw the blonde principal over the edge, cumming around her two slender fingers with a cry for her lover. “So good, such a good slut for mommy” she praised loving how shy Leonora always became at the smallest compliments. “So fucking beautiful.”

“You don’t stop until I say you can, cum for me Leo” she purred starting the you up once more, laughing at how sensitive you were. Struggling against the bonds, pleading for more yet trying to wriggle away from the merciless toy. “Don’t fight it slut, you wanted to cum without mommy you are gonna suffer the consequences. A filthy whore, not good for anything other than being a stress relief doll for me” her words threw the red head over the edge again, the pace of the toy causing Leonora to mewl in thanks, only the toy didn’t stop. No the vibrations got stronger, if that was even possible, the dirty words spewing out of the well respected principal’s mouth were more frequent as she forced orgasm after orgasm from her lover. After the forth Lesso had long since lost any words or thoughts over than her lover but she mad a fist to the camera. A non verbal sign to stop. Her body soaked in sweat and clit throbbing all being too much. “Shh it’s okay Leo, you did an amazing job darling, I know you’re pretty much fucked dumb for me but that’s okay remember the non verbal signs okay?”

That night Larissa didn’t end up sleeping until three in the morning but it was all worth it to fall asleep together after such an intense evening. Larissa could sleep soundly knowing she’d well and truly took care of Lesso in every sense of the word. Leonora slept soundly from the exerted energy comforted by Larissa’s praises. Here and now she wasn’t the scary dean of evil she was Larissa’s baby, her love and her partner for life. And that was how she liked to be the most.

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #lady lesso #sfgae #leonora lesso #lady leonora lesso #lesso #lesso x Larissa #Larissa Weems #weems #Larissa x Leonora #lesso x weems smut #lesso smut #Larissa smut #sub lesso #dom Larissa #self indulgent fic #love you guys #sad Mars but I love this smut so I couldn’t not post it

[valencebagelbandit]

every god needs an imp

notes: this is my first fic ever sorry if my presentation isn't very polished! also not sure about teenage kix in the show but instead of just making them a hero team I figured why not make it a show in the style of bad girls club or Jersey shore? teen titans but with hair pulling and alcohol. anyways that's the preface to how A-train and eccentrica met their bother former teenage kix members.

summary: homelander needed one thing, a tool. a tinker toy to carry out his more wild whims that the deep/A-train or the new recruits couldn't.finally after endless searching through files upon files he finds a perfect candidate.besides every king needs a jester, every hero needs a sidekick, every god needs an imp.

"teenage kix." Ashley looked up from the file folder grasped between shivering fingers eyes locked nervously on homelander and his hateful glare.

"absolutely not why in the every loving fuck would I choose anyone off that circus of a team? I mean A-train was the last remotely decent hero to come out of that voyeuristic Bullshit TV show. come on Ashley get your shit together." he didn't move one inch sitting ankles crossed in the chair in front of her desk chin rested on his clenched fist like an pouting child.

"well- well actually sir there has been one more promising member..." the (now fake) red head slid the file over to homelander the page resting on top a vought branded hero file with an attached image of the supe in question.

Ashley began to speak as homelander analyzed the portfolio, "Eccentrica Magica, 5'8, 160 pounds, only 24, replaced A-trains slot on the show when he aged out. premiered at fifteen and became a hit, once she left the show she started a residency at the MGM Grand."

she was a fucking magician?

homelander dropped the file on the desk before pressing the palms of his red leather gloves over his eyes letting a hissing sigh out through his teeth. "you really expect me to put a god damn magician in the final spot on the seven?" he practically growled his words out, he could hear Ashley's already racing heart jump nervously.

"well she is very talented-" she started but was immediately cut off."I don't care if she's "talented" I need someone to fight not pull a fuckin' rabbit out of hat!" he stood up rolling his eyes teeth pulled back over his teeth in a grimace of annoyance and rage. hands found their way into a fold one gripping the other as he paced trying his best not to laser Ashley's stupid face off. two hours of this bullshit going through applications of pre established supes for the empty spot in the seven.

"really homelander she's a good option, she has super strength plus she can remotely teleport! plus she already has a strong fanbase and she's attractive," Ashley's mutterings about this eccentrica magica was tuned out as soon as he heard the words remote teleportation. sure sure anyone could teleport, but having control like that to so much training it wasn't worth it. she could be useful she could just teleport butcher right into the space for him! besides if the deep was in the seven, well that was comparing an intern to loan shark.

He snapped back pacing back to the folder on the desk as Ashley continued chattering, endlessly chattering. his thumb and index fingers gripped the photo of eccentrica, she smirked at the camera with a manic charm he found reminiscent of the Cheshire cat fitting for her powers. his big blue eyes wandered up the picture tracing the round curve of her face pale, soft, unmarred skin a sign of her invulnerability right up to the best part her eyes. framed by light brown feathery bangs and eyebrows raised only making her big glowing purple doe eyes all the more god damn startling.

"besides she has an in! A-train has met her an confirmed she's a good candidate plus again shes literally the last file in the stack." Ashley smiled at him eyes flicking between homelander and the massive stack of files sitting to her right hand.

homelander let out a small huff, "fine I'll take the magician." now, to meet this little imp and see if she was as useful as he needed her to be.

thank you for reading <3

#homelander x reader #homelander #the boys #self indulgent fic #self insert oc

[kaynes-secret-blog]

Insert cool title for Angeleyes Short fic

Yeah I'm not good with titles

This is completely self indulgent I'm sorry

—

Arthur stopped, Oscar’s words still echoing in his head.

"Oscar, this purpose thing… I’m not sure what you’re saying, this is too–"

“Much? Indeed. I apologize.” Oscar said with a chuckle.

“No, it's- it's okay, it's just, sudden.”

“Arthur, I-” He leaned in, his hand close to Arthur’s face, too hesitant to touch, he rested his hand over Arthur’s instead “I am sure of everything I said.” Oscar managed to get even closer “You are my purpose.”

Arthur could feel the closeness, he felt his breath quicken, his heartbeat louder than whatever John was muttering in his head.

“Oscar-”

Arthur's words were interrupted by Oscar's lips on his.

“Arthur, what the fuck is he doing!?” John yelped.

Even with the screaming entity in his head, Arthur was eager to reciprocate. His right hand held Oscar by the hair, pulling him closer; his left was pressed to the priest's shoulder in an attempt to push him away.

Oscar broke the kiss too quickly.

"I - I'm sorry, I don't know what came ove-"

"Don't bother," Arthur interrupted. He felt dizzy, chest warm while he pulled Oscar closer for another kiss, only to be interrupted by John's hand blocking Oscar's mouth.

“Arthur, what the fuck are you doing?” John was a mix between livid and confused. Arthur could feel the pressure in his head with the vibrations of the entity's voice echoing through him.

"Oh" Oscar breathed with a faint laugh. He took John’s hand gently in his own, leaving soft kisses from its palm to the wrist in a teasing manner. Arthur didn’t realize until he felt John flinch, and heard his voice pitch up into mortifying disgust.

“Ngh- what the- Arthur, make him stop!” John demaded.

John's hand curled into a fist, and Arthur felt it nearly jerk upwards with the intent to smack Oscar away. He instead grabbed it quickly, holding it closer to his chest.

"Sto- Oscar, please, stop,"

In the back of his mind, Arthur felt John roiling with discomfort. He traced a circle on the back of his friend’s hand—soothing, he hoped. Oscar let out a confused sound.

"I'm sorry, it's just- It's been… a hell of a day," Arthur said wearily, "For the both of us."

“And I- this- this is a very sudden situation I- we weren't really prepared for, I imagine. So while I am willing — to work this out I mean — I don’t want to put you in a position where we haven’t properly spoken. I don’t want you to feel like I’m… not paying attention to your needs and being overall selfish. Besides, we need to keep focused, there will be time after for…” he paused, biting his lip “...whatever may happen between us.”

“He seems more concerned than hurt,” John huffed, although Arthur could hear the anxiety in his voice.

"I understand." Oscar said.

I see.

Arthur let out a relived sigh.

Thank you, Arthur.

"It's okay."

#angeleyes #angeleyes fanfic #blind faith #malevolent #malevolent podcast #malevolent fanfic #john doe malevolent #Arthur Lester #Oscar Malevolent #self indulgent fic #blind faith fanfic

[toreii]

Bi-Han screenshots belong to far2wi on X. Other images sourced from unsplash and pexels.

Pairing: Bi-Han x OC (Yue)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: mild sexual content, implied sexual content, character death

Summary: They were destined to meet again and again. Though fate conspired to keep them apart, they somehow find their way back to one another at the restart of another timeline. A promise spoken from ages ago, a solemn vow to reclaim what once was theirs.

It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything proper, and with so much thought put into it. This fic originally began as little snippets of ideas that I had when MK9 came out. I’ve been a fan of Bi-Han for years, but never really pursued writing for him. I am much too shy to write for him. But, I wanted to try now that MK1 came out. With a little encouragement from @peijizerojournal I finally finished writing this prequel of sorts. I had a little hiccup getting it written because of my work and the holidays keeping me busy, but I’m relieved and so happy to see it done. If you give it a read, I hope you enjoy it. Kudos not necessary, but appreciated.💖

I have a main story to plan now, ahaha…🥲🙃

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #bi han #mk1 bi han #sub zero #mk1 sub zero #oc #self indulgent fic #shoutout to everyone who wrote character anslysis about bihan bc i read those #thank you for guiding me #im still learning how to write him #he makes me so nervous lol #i also made a moodboard for them #yall i was really invested into this

[devilmen-collector]

Nightmare

Pairing: Andrealphus x Kleiniel, Beelzebub x Kleiniel

Warning: mention of rape and sexual abuse, blood, mild NSFW but not smut

Kleiniel was sitting in a cafe in Abyssos, reading the messages on his phone while leaving his drink untouched. He knew better than to consume anything in Abyssos.

"That Beelzebub, did he forget our date? That son of a bitch." The fake devil cursed under his breath.

Suddenly, he noticed a pair of long legs standing at his table. He looked up to see who it was. The momeny he saw the devil, his heart skipped a beat.

The handsome tall devil had a pair of scarred eyes, a bloody angel wing on his hack and a halo that was no less bloody over his head. He was carrying a frightening scythe on his back.

(A-andrealphus the Angel Hunter!!!) Kleiniel screamed and cursed his luck in his thought.

"Found you. The demon Klein...no Kleiniel the Most Hypocrite Seraph." Andrealphus said with a creepy smile on his face, similar to a clown in some horror movies.

Kleiniel tried to summon his Holy Blade but the Angel Hunter was faster than him. He swung his scythe at the Seraphim's neck. But Seraph managed to dodge but the scythe grazed his neck.

The Seraph held his wounded neck but suppressed the urge to scream in his throat.

"You didn't scream like the others? But of course, it is nothing compared to what my family and friends suffered at the hand of you angels."

"Andrealphus. I didn't know anything about your family."

"Of course you don't, you angels would never care to remember the devils you massacred." Andrealphus said as he swung his scythe again and cut off one of Kleiniel's ears. Blood poured out from his ear hole.

The fake demon wanted to scream but did his best to suppress it, which started to irritate Andrealphus. The twisted demon wanted to make his caught prey scream and beg for their life, just like what they did the many devils in his village before.

"Ah, that's right. You came to Hell to seek pleasure, right? If I did that to you..." The devil from Niflheim gave Kleiniel a creepy smile again.

"W-what-

Before the Seraph could say more than one word, Andrealphus swung his scythe again and ripped off Kleiniel's clothes with his cut. And with fast movement thanks to being trained in Niflheim army, Andrealphus managed to push the Preacher of Heaven on the table.

"I wonder, how many devil penises have you used to pleasure that hole of yours." Andealphus smiled as he turned the big shaft of the scythe at Kleiniel's butt hole.

"Wait, don't tell me, STOP-

.

.

.

Kleiniel opened his eyes and sat up quickly on the bed, panting and sweating all over his naked body.

"Are you alright, Pancake?" Beelzebub, who was lying beside Kleiniel, also naked, asked as he opened his eyes.

"No, nothing...it's just a nightmare." Kleiniel told Beel some truth after some hesitation as he left the bed, despite difficulty in walking, and prepared to wear his clothes.

"You are already leaving? Didn't you say you would stay until the morning?"

The fake demon glared at Beelzebub as if the King of Gluttony wasn't the one who left early while he was still sleeping on their dates before.

"Yeah, I have something to do." The Seraph lied.

After finishing donning everything, Kleiniel headed to the door of the hotel's room. But before he opened the door, he turned to look at Beelzebub.

"...Can you help me leave Abyssos?" Kleiniel asked after some hesitation.

"Of course, anything for you, Pancake. Where to?"

Self-indulgent fic but hope you guys like it :3

#what in hell is bad #whb #whb mc: klein #whb oc #whb fanfic #self indulgent fic

[fandomohana]

Mental Storms {A 1986 WBTY Fic}

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Plus Size Reader, Eddie Munson x Plus Size Henderson Sister Reader

Rating: Mature for mild nudity, and talk of mental health.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: Reader is in a dark place mentally, and calls on Eddie for comfort.

Author’s Note: So my mental health is in the toilet, and last night I wrote what I needed.

This fic is a oneshot based in the 1986 Will Be Their Year, universe. It’s set after graduation, but can be read as a stand alone. Reader is 18. This is incredibly self indulgent, as the whole series is, if I’m being honest. I think that’s all. I’m tagging my series list, cause it’s all in the same world. Interact if you’d like, my mental health could use the boost, but I doubt this will go very far. Onto the oneshot.

Second Author's Note: The shows and movies are actually some of my favorites, I'm an '89 baby, and the fries part is exactly what was going on last night, while I wrote this.

Eddie Munson Masterlist

The sound of bells rattled through the trailer, penetrating the sleeping form sprawled across the mattress. Bleary brown eyes began to blink open, registering the sound of the phone sitting on the table by the bed. Reaching over, a ringed hand shuffles across the top of the table, pushing off notebooks, and a few empty beer cans, before finding purchase on the phone, a quick, “Shit.” coming from the prone form.

Eddie pulled the receiver off the cradle, bringing the phone to his ear, letting out a groggy, “Hello?” He glanced at the clock, he had been asleep an hour, dressed in the baggy sweat pants he had thrown on after his shower.

“Eds?” It was a quiet voice, a voice he knew like his own, and she sounded broken, on the verge of tears.

All sleep was forgotten as he bolted up in bed, panic making his heart drum against his chest. “Y/N? Baby, what’s wrong?”

“It’s getting dark again, Eddie...” Came her soft reply, voice starting to crack.

Eddie knew immediately what was happening, and what she needed. He was up in a shot, phone wedged between his shoulder, and head, as he began dressing.

“Your place or mine?” Came his calm response, they had been through this a few times by now.

“Yours, I don’t want to have to explain to my mom.” She sounded so small, scared, his heart was breaking for her.

Eddie was already pulling his jacket on, and cramming his feet into his Reeboks, not bothering to untie them, “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He responded, grabbing his keys before launching out the door.

The van roared to life, dirt and small bits of gravel flying out from beneath the tires, as Eddie peeled out of the trailer park. Cramming her mix tape into the player, he raced toward the Henderson house, toward his Princess.

--------------------

At least once a week, Eddie and Y/N’s schedules led to what they called, heavy days. These days were marked with long hours at work for the pair, and extra schoolwork for Y/N. They were days that the couple had decided to not see one another, long hours, hectic schedules, it was easier to simply take the night off.

But Eddie knew what she meant when she told him it was getting dark, his Princess struggled with depression, and anxiety. When the darkness rolled in, if they were apart, she would call Eddie, and the two would either stay in her room, or go to the trailer; somewhere safe for her, where he could take care of her.

As the van wound its way up the driveway, headlights illuminated a figure on the porch, perched on the edge of the patio couch. Throwing the van into park, and racing out the door, Eddie made his way up to the porch, walking over to Y/N, who looked up at his approach.

She looked so tired, her beautiful eyes were full of pain, and unshed tears. Eddie squatted down in front of her, taking her soft hands in his, and looking into her eyes as he asks calmly, “Did you tell Dustin?”

Her mother wasn’t home, he knew that, she had gone out for a night with some neighborhood friends, but they still needed Dustin to cover for her absence. No sooner had the question left his lips, before Dustin appeared in the doorway, “I’ve got her covered, I’ll tell Mom she went to stay with Robin.”

“Thanks, man.” Turning back to Y/N, Eddie asked if she was ready, and when she nodded, he took her hands again, and helped her to her feet.

Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, Eddie pulled Y/N closer to his side, running his fingers up and down her arm, trying to soothe her loud mind. He opened her door, helping her into the seat as Somebody to Love drifted from the speakers, before closing the door again.

Once he was situated behind the wheel, he gently asked, “Did anything happen?” He knew that sometimes the depression would simply come from the ether, like a sudden summer storm. When she shook her head no, he continued again, “The usual?” She nodded slowly. “Okay baby, I got you.” Reaching across, he took her hand once more, running his thumb slowly over her knuckles.

--------------------

One trip through the drive through of Burger King, an obscene amount of fries, and a large classic Coke later, the van made its way back through the trailer park, before parking in his usual spot.

Jumping out of the van once again, Eddie jogged to Y/N’s door, helping her out before he wrapped her into his side once more, despite the short trip to the door. When the pair reached the trailer, refusing to let her go, Eddie gripped the bag between his teeth, using his newly free hand to open the door, and guide her inside.

Y/N toed off her shoes, while Eddie sloughed off his jacket, placing the food on the small kitchen counter. He walked over to his princess, running his hands up and down her arms, “Living room, or bedroom?” He always kept questions short during these episodes.

“Bedroom.” Y/N croaks out.

Without another word, his hands slip from her arms, one hand taking hers, as he guided her through the short hall, into his bedroom. Eddie begins making her a small nest of blankets, and pillows. He had invested in more blankets and pillows shortly after they had started dating, learning quickly that she loved to nest, especially during these mental storms.

With the bed prepared, he helps her into the nest, giving her a reassuring squeeze, before leaving to fetch their food. When Eddie came back, he had his arms full, several video tapes, the food, and drinks for the pair.  

He made sure Y/N was situated first, setting her drink down, and placing the bag of food in front of her. “What’re we watching, beautiful? I’ve got...” He tosses the pile of tapes onto the bed, and began rattling off titles, “Halloween, Rosemary’s Baby, Carrie, Night of the Living Dead...I’ve got some recorded episodes of The Golden Girls, Alf, oh, and some episodes of Unsolved Mysteries.”

Eddie had begun this collection after her first storm, he would gather her favorite movies, and record her favorite tv shows, as part of a kit of sorts, that he had put together for these situations.

“Halloween?” Her voice is soft, barely above a whisper.

“Anything you want.” He places a soft kiss to her forehead, before moving to the small tv and VCR they had both invested in, for his bedroom.

Turning back after setting up the movie, he noticed her jeans, and the blouse she had worn to work. He crossed the room again, digging in the drawer he kept her “boyfriend clothes” as she called them. Clothes that Eddie wore, and kept for her, that would fit her plush frame. Finding a worn Hellfire t-shirt, and pair of sweat pants, he returns to her side, placing the clothes on the bed.

“Do you want to change?” She nodded silently. “Arms up, pretty girl.”

He gathered the hem of her shirt in his hands, slowly dragging the fabric up, and over her head. Tossing her shirt to the floor, making a note to fold it later. Reaching behind her, he unhooks her bra, and brings the straps down her shoulders. His hands worked quickly, bringing the soft t-shirt over her head, and down her torso before the cool air of the trailer could make her shiver.

Eddie helps her stand, pulling her jeans down her legs, and placing her hands on his shoulders for stability, while he removed each foot from the pant legs. He reaches behind him, grabbing the sweat pants, and began guiding her feet into the holes, before pulling them up around her waist, and helping her back into her nest.

He changed back into his own discarded sweat pants, folded her clothes, and set them on the desk before climbing into bed. He hits play, and the opening credits for Halloween begin to scroll across the screen. Eddie doled out the food between the two of them, before leaning back, and wrapping her into his side, her head resting on his chest as she begins to eat slowly.

Eddie feeds himself with one hand, while the other runs up and down her arm, and brushing a kiss against her temple, speaking softly, “I love you, Y/N. I’m glad you felt safe calling me. I know you probably hesitated cause it’s one of our heavy days, but I’m proud of you. You can always call me, I’ll always be there to get you, no matter what your brain tells you. You’re my badass warrior, baby.”

“I love you too, Eds.” Comes the soft reply from under his chin.

He couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips. No matter how often she told him she loved him, it felt like the first time, and his heart would skip a beat.

--------------------

Tag List:

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

@bohemianrhapsody86

@a-time-for-wolvess

@ghosttownwherenoonegoes​

@friendly-neighborhood-ghoul

@sweetpeapod

@emotionaldreamer

@crazyjenny8675309

@rydellakurancarson

Header credit goes to the fabulous, @sweetpeapod 💙

#eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x plus size henderson sister reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #1986 will be their year #mental health #reader has depression #depression #comfort #self indulgent fic #fan fic #fanfic #fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #joseph quinn #joe quinn #no one will read this #not sure why i try #the big sad tm

[cancerianprincess]

Erik & Aniya: “Graduation”Blurb

A/N: Found this chillin in my notes from way back when—I’m glad I did. Needed a self-indulgent fic for the rescue tonight, seriously. Y’all enjoy 🤎

“I tried to tell you that wasn’t gon’ end well.”

“I don’t wanna hear it, Erik! You didn’t even make an effort to try and act civilized in front of my family today.”

“Hold on..” Erik couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “How you gone try and call me uncivilized when all I did was tell the truth, hm?”

This nigga was honestly finna make you blow a gasket. “You being for real right now?” You blinked at him. “You called my mom ‘a fake ass Claire Huxtable’!!!”

“Wrong.”

He paused while you looked at him, waiting to challenge your already growing irritation.

“What I said was: ‘she needs to chill out and stop acting like a fake-ass Claire Huxtable, with her condescending boujiee ass’!! That’s what I said.”

Jesus fix it, all you could do was pinch the bridge of your nose. “You say that like it’s any better, Erik..,” you trail off exasperated. “How could you do that at my graduation cookout?! All I wanted was for today to go smoothly!”

Your best friend sneered and threw a mean side-eye at you, adjusting in his seat as if to prepare for the fallout. “Aye, don’t be coming at me sideways, Aniya. You shoulda been telling your mom that for the way she was acting before I even said anything. She honestly lucky that’s all I said to her.”

“So you think that makes it okay for you to do what you did?!” You could feel your nostrils flaring and eyes beginning to burn as you went on.

“All I wanted was to get the cookout over with, with minimal damage, so I could get out of there and head to the real turn up to celebrate MY day. Yes, I knew you didn’t wanna go, Erik, but you knew how much I needed you there to help get me through it!”

Erik was doing his best to maintain his composure and not misdirect his anger at you. “Well then why do you still let her talk to you that way then, huh?? I mean, you literally a grown ass woman, yet she still treats you like a damn child! It’s aggravating as hell, Aniya, and quite frankly I’m tired of you having to endure that shit. Hell, I’m tired for you!! So am I sorry for putting her in her place for being rude as hell to her own fucking daughter, on one of the biggest days of your life? Hell nah, fuck allat.”

Silence immediately fell over the car. You shrunk down in the seat of the car, wanting to shout something back, but fell quiet once you realized your best friend did have a point. Now you actually did feel like a small child, but only because Erik had been more adamant about standing up for you, than you had been about standing up for yourself at your grown age.

“Look,” Erik said breaking the fresh sheet of ice. “I ain’t mean to scream ‘atchu like that, aight? That’s my bad, Niya.”

You stole a quick glance at him to see if he was still angry, which was a sight you hardly enjoyed witnessing. Catching sight of it, Erik continued his attempt to still the waters.

“I just think you deserve a mother who doesn’t criticize everything you do.” He paused for a second. “I just want you to be able to tell her how she actually makes you feel—which is shitty. And then pick ya head up and remind yourself how much of a boss you are.”

Great. Now you were staring hard as fuck out the window, trying to discreetly wipe away the few tears that had managed to escape.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” You felt a hand tug at your wrist. “Don’t cry, aight?”

Erik’s grasp moved from your arm to your chin, turning your gaze to him once more. “I was being a dumbass, I admit it. But I was only tryna do what was right and stand up for you, Niya.”

“No I know.” You swiped carefully to avoid smearing your makeup. “And I appreciate that, E, I really do.”

“So…you forgive me?” Erik did that little puppy dog thing he always did to get off the hook.

You turned your lip up at him. “Fine, but only so you’ll stop making that stupid ass face! I hate when you do that.” Despite feigning an attitude, you couldn’t totally suppress the sneer-grin combination playing at your lips.

“Girl bye, you know I’m cute as a muhfucka.”

You rolled your eyes at him, not bothering to contain your amusement that time. “Boy bye, gon’ head.”

“See, don’t even start ya neck rolling and shit.” He flipped the dash mirror down to do a check before hopping out the car. “It’s still your night and I promised I would take you to finally have some fun. So bring ya lil’ ass on we can get this party popping!”

ou smiled and checked your face one last time, not being able to help yourself as Erik opened your door and escorted you into the kickback.

#erik x black reader #erik killmonger #collegeboi!erik #killmonger x reader #erik stevens #softboi!erik #birkin bag #michael b jordan #black panther #best friends #friends to lovers #self indulgent fic

[whiskeyghoul]

She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader] Pt2.

Read part 1 here

Read part 3 here

A/N: OMG I can’t believe how much people enjoyed part 1? Seriously, as I am finishing this part up it has reached over 500 notes, I am shocked and so very thankful for the love. I didn’t expect it. A silly little fic not proof read, totally self indulgent, really this is so wonderful and I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read it and reblog, like or comment on it. I hope part 2 doesn’t disappoint. Part 3 is going to be here soon too, which will be the unofficial date.

WC: 1,9K ~

Tags: Fluff, just fluff, Spencer is a flustered mess, Alt!Reader, Goth!Reader, 2 idiots flirting, Reader and Penelope are besties, use of Y/N, Penelope has been playing matchmaker, alluding to a date, crushes.

Warnings: None. 

Your pov.

It was a late Sunday afternoon. You were sitting on Penelope Garcia’s couch, cup of hot tea in hand. Legs curled up on the couch with a colorful blanket over your lap. It clashed just ever so slightly with your dark outfit. The two of you are in complete contrast to each other. Penelope was a ball of color in a bright purple dress with a lemon pattern, large yellow earrings and a blue bolero sweater. Compared to your all black ensemble she was a ray of sunshine. An array of snacks spread out over the coffee table. The aforementioned peppy blonde was sitting next to you on the couch. Deeply engrossed with the romance show playing on the TV. You watched it together every Sunday, when a new episode would come out. Today your mind was somewhere else completely.

“He hasn’t called yet.” You spoke up. Penelope eyed you curiously, “Who?” She asked, her focus gone from the show. Her eyes peered at you with interest from behind the cat eye glasses she had picked out that day. “Doctor Reid.” You turned your head back to the TV casually, trying to not seem bothered. You could hear Penelope hold back a small squeal. It sounded more like a gasp that way. “Oh my god! Are you interested in him? What did he do to impress you? I have been trying to set you up for ages! You have shot down any person I have discussed with you. Always something wrong.” She started rambling, hearing the clink of her glass being put on the coffee table. Her hands grabbed yours, making you look back at her and rolling your eyes. “Firstly: I am not ‘interested’ in him. Secondly: I just thought he would have called by now. Or stopped by at least.” You shrugged noncommittally. You were just a little interested. Thinking back to that meeting.

When Spencer had stepped into the lab earlier that week, courtesy of Penelope, you had found his awkward demeanor endearing. He was hot, that was for sure, and tall, you remembered having to look up at him, Those dark brown eyes pinning you in place. Especially when you had stood so close together. You had wanted to tease him after watching him stumble over his sentences. See him even more flustered. It made you somewhat excited. When you had given him your number you could feel his pulse racing under his skin. He had shown many signs of being interested yet he hadn’t even texted you. It made you rethink the interaction. 

“Well, he couldn’t have stopped by. They got called on a case in Utah so he’s not really in the area right now.” Penelope clarified. Those words put your mind at ease more than you expected them to. “Oh, I guess he can’t really get to the lab then.” You shrugged. Just a little disappointed but feeling relieved that apparently he hadn’t meant to not visit you. Or maybe he had done so on purpose if he would be close. Your earlier relief was replaced by a mild panic again. Trying to convince yourself you weren’t interested in Dr. Reid. Although, he could have texted.

You could practically feel Penelope smirk as you turned your attention back on the TV. Unable to focus but pretending to. “Spence is not one for texting. He probably has been getting to the hotel at ungodly hours and hasn’t had time to call.” it was like she could read your mind. “Don’t do that.” You said with a shudder. “Do what?” Penelope questioned innocently. “Read my mind like that. It’s weird.” You answered, making her laugh. “Just goes to show how well I know you.” She answered with a smile. It was true. She knew you too well you would even argue. The fact both of you were women in a male dominated field, both dressed eccentricly, and both with a passion for cheesy movies and tv shows. It was only a matter of time until you were best friends after your first run in.

“Why did you call?” You asked, trying to continue on without dawdling. “Oh eh, the report, I ehm…” He was quiet for a moment. It crossed your mind that maybe he didn’t need to speak with you, but he wanted to. “Yes?” You urged after a silence had fallen on the other side of the phone line. There was an intake of breath from Spencer, a moment that signaled he might be trying to raise some courage. “I didn’t want to talk about the report.” He finally spoke. It made you smile, your cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “Oh, well then what did you want to talk about?” You added a bit of playfulness in your tone. You pictured him, holding the phone to his ears that were tipped red. His face was probably just as flushed as it had been in the lab. 

Your phone, which was placed on the table, lit up at that moment. The ringtone played at a high volume, making the cure blast through the room. Your eyes quickly flickered to the screen. Caller ID unknown. You picked up the phone, hesitant of the unknown caller, deciding to hang up instead. You had been plagued by telemarketers for the past month and really didn’t want to deal with that right now. If it was important they would call again. And they did, you still had your phone in your hands when it went off again. “Just pick it up! I will keep watch over our show, fill you in later.” Penelope said, motioning her hands for you to get up. You got off the couch, soft blanket falling to the ground as you picked up the phone. Softly padding away to the kitchen to be out of earshot of Penelope. “Y/n speaking.” you answered, waiting to hear from the other end of the line.

“Hey… ehm… is this not the right time? Are you busy?” The voice on the other end of the line made you straighten up slightly in surprise. “Doctor Reid.” You breathe out his name quietly, adding a “Now is a perfectly good time.” to your sentence. Wondering how hearing his voice through the slightly tin-like phone speaker made you feel a little flutter in your stomach. “Good… I didn’t want to bother you. You can just call me Spencer by the way. Doctor sounds too formal. I just introduce myself like that. It’s a habit. I don’t call you Doctor L/n either. So call me Spencer.” He started rambling. A smile spread across your lips, this rambly version was different from how speechless he had been in the lab. You held back a giggle. Apparently you had rendered him speechless in the lab. “Alright, Spencer.” You answered, the humor in your voice apparent. His breath hitched a little on the other side of the line. 

“You didn’t make a bad impression. I gave you my number for a reason.” You told him with a smile, a little giddy as the words ‘he called me pretty’ kept bouncing around your head. “And I am sorry I called without any real reason to… I know it was for talking about the report. Though Morgan tried to convince me it wasn’t.” Spencer answered. You rolled your eyes at that. Ofcourse, this hyper intelligent man would mix up what you were trying to do. “I gave you my number because I wanted you to call me. Not about the report. I just wanted you to call me. About anything.” There was apparently a need to clear up that confusion. It was silent for another moment. “Oh.” It was like realization dawned on him. “So I should have called sooner, right?” His question made you laugh softly, trying not to clue in Penelope on your call.  “Yes, you should have. Or could have at least. I was waiting.” You answered back, smiling at the ground. You fidgeted with one of the large rings on your free hand, twisting the cool metal round with your thumb.

“I ehm- I haven’t been able to focus, on the case that is. Because I keep thinking about the lab. How I probably came off as a mess, I just didn’t know what to say because you looked so… Not that you look bad because you don’t, you looked really nice. Emily says my IQ gets slashed down to 68 when I am around pretty girls. I wanted to make a good impression. I couldn’t find the words though. I usually don’t make great first impressions, because I tend to ramble. Just- I really really hope I didn’t make a bad first impression.” His sentences flowed into each other like word vomit. Nervous, quick, and hardly understandable. Luckily, you were trained in the art of understanding nervous rambles when Penelope would spiral into one from time to time. However he had called you pretty. “Spencer.” You said his name almost like a question. There was a beat of silence. “Yes?” He asked softly, he sounded so nervous.

“I’m sorry I didn’t.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice. The slight uptick in his pitch. You imagined he was still fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater, or was perhaps looking at his shoes with a grin. “You can make it up to me by buying me a coffee when you get back.” The suggestion came naturally, you didn’t even have to think about it. The words left your lips before you could, really. “What do you like?” Spencer asked without hesitation. “Cinnamon latte.” You answered it softly, a little surprised he agreed so readily. A giddy feeling in your stomach. “Alright, cinnamon latte, I’ll remember.” Spencer sounded a little breathy, like he too was feeling giddy at the prospects of having coffee together. Like the idea of taking time to get to know each other at work over a warm beverage was the perfect first date. “What do you like?” You asked in turn, wanting to know what he would usually get. Knowing more about him would feel so domestic and sweet. “Black coffee, usually with tons of sugar.” He had a hint of embarrassment in your voice. A little muffled like he had covered his mouth to hold in the confession of drinking it so sweet. You smiled at his answer. Of course he had a sweet tooth. “Tons of sugar, I’ll remember.” You mirrored his words. 

“Oh! My! God!” You heard Penelope gasp from the living room. Knocking you out of your little phone call bubble with Spencer. “I think I have to go. You better call me tomorrow.” You said it lightheartedly. Just wanting to hear from him again soon. “I will. I’ll call you.” Spencer answered. “Bye Spencer.” “Bye Y/n.” You hung up with a smile, already turning and walking back into the living room. Penelope turned around on the couch to look at you, “They shot Richard!” She looked absolutely shocked as she gave you the news of your favorite character being hurt. You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face though. “Spencer called.” You saw her face form from a shocked to surprise expression, “Oh! My! God!” She sounded a lot happier that time, and you knew you wouldn't hear the end of it.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #Goth reader #self indulgent fic #fanfic writer #tumblr writer #she blinded me with science #part 2 #whiskeyghoul

[romantic-disarray]

“ Scandal ? ”

Pairing ; Caitlyn Kiramman x gn!reader

Warning(s) ; cursing & a god awful idea in the middle of the night.

word count ; 0.9k

Cael's note ; I haven't posted in a while, also heavily into atsv at the moment so expect a shit ton of fics from that, follow my tt btw "@ shxnihara " ! Short self indulgent fic because I got back into my arcane phase a few weeks ago

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The two of you hated each other.

And I mean—hated each other.

Caitlyn, who was born into 'royalty' and 'power', whilst you were born in a ditch, long to be forgotten by the people: Whom you hated just as much as they did.

So imagine your shock when your employer had actually managed to snag a spot in a luxurious masquerade up in Piltover where you'll be acting as a bodyguard for—you guessed it: Caitlyn motherfucking Kiramman.

At first you thought it was a joke, not until the councilor herself—as well as the daughter—entered through the rustic doors of your employers hideout with a shit-ton of enforcers behind them.

Caitlyn and you locked eyes, momentarily glaring at each other while her mother spoke with a tone of authority, and although she seemed to be talking about something really important—neither of you decided to listen.

Instead, you both just sneered at each other and spouted a few words of acknowledgement here and there.

"I don't understand why we have to work together."

"Yeah, I don't think your Mother loves you that much."

And now here you were, sitting on Caitlyn's bed as she got ready for the masquerade. Her pale back was turned towards you while she put on her expensive jewelry, and dress.

Thing is however, as much as you hated to stare—Caitlyn was so damn beautiful. Her body both a mix of femininity and masculine, stating that she'd done more than just throw tea parties whilst growing up.

But it seemed as though Caitlyn had caught on to your staring session. She rolled her eyes and let out a breath that almost sounded like a chuckle, "Can you do something other than stare?" Caitlyn tutted with a sly grin as she looked at herself in the standing mirror.

You immediately snickered at her comment and looked away when accused. "Can you do something other than be pretty?" You quipped, taking another quick look back at Caitlyn for fun, only to laugh when you saw her staring at you from the mirror with a raised eyebrow; like she was non-verbally telling you 'Really?'.

"I'm not dressing pretty just to show off. I'm dressing pretty because I need to for this stupid mission." Caitlyn huffed and tried to zip up her long blue dress adorned with multiple gold linings that accentuated her figure. You rolled your eyes when she pathetically tried to zip it up, but to no avail, she groaned and sighed.

"... Look, I hate asking for this but—" She started but you already cut her off by standing up from her bed. "Yeah yeah, I know. Just don't punch me out of nowehere, okay?" You muttered as you stood behind her, but not too close to be called uncomfortable.

Sure, you might hate each other, but you aren't a fucking weirdo. You noticed Caitlyn flinch when you approached, and you looked at her from the mirror. "Hey, I'm not gonna do anything to you. Just relax, it's just a stupid dress malfunction." You reassured in a slight sass.

Caitlyn glanced at you on the reflective surface with a reluctant expression before she let a sigh of her own slip from her mouth. "Fine." She grumbled childishly, which caused you to smile.

You pinched the fabric together with one hand, and held the zipper on the other, before you slowly began to pull it up inch by inch; watching as the dress began to cover Caitlyn's skin from behind.

You could feel Caitlyn's breath hitching, her staring at your reflection in the mirror as you focused on helping her zip up her dress. Although it was purely innocent—Caitlyn felt something tug at her heart strings at the sight of you without that usual smirk or frown of yours.

She'd sometimes wonder what it'd be like to just... Be friends with you instead of enemies.

"Don't tell me you're falling for me, Cait?" You grinned as you finished zipping her dress up and placed your hands on her shoulders. Caitlyn's eyes widened as she stammered to come up with a response, which made you laugh.

"I'm only pulling your panties, Madam. After all, it'd be such a pain if we started a scandal—" First you were speaking, next thing you knew, Caitlyn turned around and pulled you in by the neck for a rather rough kiss

You were shocked at first, but soon enough, you gently placed your hands on her hips and pulled her in closer. You could taste her lipstick on your tongue as the two of you lost yourselves in the heat of the moment.

Not until a few moments later that the situation dawned on Caitlyn. She softly pulled back with red coating her cheeks, you could only grin at her response. "So... I'm guessing you don't really care about a scandal?" You teased, which earned you a pinch on the side of your neck.

Caitlyn huffed a heavy sigh before smiling, "I absolutely hate you." She whispered closely. You smiled and stared at her lips, "God, I hate you more."

She chuckled and reluctantly pulled away as she held your hand. "Now come on, who knows what'll happen if we're late for the masquerade?" Caitlyn asked, a bit worried now as she dragged you towards her door.

"World peace? Specifically my own peace because I'd definitely earn that if we just stayed here and made out."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

not proof read.

#fluff #caitlyn #caitlyn kiramman #arcane #arcane fanfic #caitlyn arcane #x gender neutral reader #x male reader #x female reader #x fem reader #x gn reader #caitlyn x reader #self indulgent fic #arcane x reader #arcane x male reader #arcane x fem reader #you

[astarionsbeloved]

Self indulgent.

Just, soft evenings with Starry. Quiet, cat somewhere nearby purring, both of you well fed, happy. Maybe you've just got back from travelling, maybe it's just been a catching up kind of day where one does all the stacked-up-too-long-ignored maintenance tasks.

You're sat on a cushion and blankets on the floor, comfortable and nested, back resting against the over-stuffed chair he's curled up in while reading. Maybe you've got your own book, maybe your hands are busy with embroidery or knitting, something keeping your hands busy. His fingers find his way to your hair, maybe he brushes through it and braids it, maybe he just thoughtlessly cards his long delicate fingers through your locks.

And before you know it, you're dozing off.

Loving elf boyfriend right there, a silent assurance that all is well (and if it isn't all well at the moment, it will be. It all being fine is inevitable).

#self indulgent fic #cozy nights with Astarion #Astarion x You #astarion fic #astarion x tav if you squint #astarionsbeloved fic #liliana speaks

[ottertooferswriting]

-Record scratch like the intro to megamind, like emperors new groove-

"You may be wondering how we got here, well that's a long story so gird your tadpoled loins and hold onto your butts. Have a peek at the present before we get into the past." -Rydel

Tags: Panic attack, Angst, Named Tav, Tav blurb, family trauma winter soldier\killua\man in the iron mask style, mention of programming, Rydel my chaos gremlin rogue.

Word count: 1k roughly, unbetad.

------- Crystalized horror, sharpened to such aching clarity that each excruciating detail sliced their way into his mind. Into the carefully locked away memories he would rather have remained hidden forever. He could have died a happy elf to never again be staring into the eyes that perfectly matched his own; the face that was so close to his. The hand that had clamped onto his shoulder was a heavy brand. An iron shackle closing around his ankle. The rise and fall of a much older and larger palm across his cheek when words were no longer enough to cow his errant behavior. 

Bile rose to choke him. The acid burn made his mouth water and words die on his tongue. Panic was a living creature inside his chest, clawing and shredding through what little bravery he had left until it was nothing but ribbons. Before his twin could open his mouth and speak the words that would damn him, erase him; Rydel ripped himself free of his siblings touch with a sound reminiscent of a wounded beast who had just removed itself from a snare and vanished into invisibility.  

His companion’s had turned, questions on their faces that swiftly morphed into confusion at the sight of his near mirror image. The sound of hurried footsteps, loud with the terror that was swamping his veins came from the direction of the nearby alleyway and his brother pursued just as he had bargained on, shouting his name as he chased the illusion spell into the shadows.  

He couldn’t breathe. He needed to run, needed to hide, needed to be safe. Where was safe? Who was safe? He had so little strength in his limbs, they were shaking so badly he could barely keep himself upright. He was locked in place, feet refusing to moveheneededtoMOVE.

A shadow fell across his unseeable form and despite its familiar nature Rydel flinched out of instinct. Halsin. Astarion. Safety. As if his limbs had just been waiting for the larger elf to come within range, the invisible rogue spun on his heel and launched himself forward. One arm wrapped around the druid’s thick waist, his free hand scrabbling desperately for the embroidered sleeve of the vampire who had been following on Halsin’s heels as he turned back to see what was going on.  

The others had moved in on the seeming pair and closed ranks. Lae’zel and Karlach had placed themselves in front of the pale elf, taking up positions usually reserved for battle. Gale wormed his way up onto the side of the druid that Astarion was not taking up, and Shadowheart and Wyll were right behind him to protect the larger male’s back. Not that Rydel saw any of it with his face burrowed into the leather armor of one of his lovers as if his very sanity depended on him blocking out the rest of the world. 

The gentle, soothing pressure of two large palms was nothing like the burning, wrong sensation of his twin’s touch. They settled, one across the back of his head and the other between his shoulder blades like a benediction. Like a shield. 

“Breathe my gem. You need to take a slow, deep breath. We have you.” 

Wet and gasping, not at all controlled like Halsin wanted the breath eased some of the burning in his lungs. The panic was still there, weighing like an anvil in his chest. His fingers could hardly hold onto the cloth within their grip. He could hear the muttered conversation of his companions as they debated what to do, but his twin would not chase the illusion forever. 

Astarion’s cool fingers brushed over his soaking cheek and he leaned into the touch, hiccuping over the words that were piling up in his throat. Clucking his tongue, the vampire nodded decisively and straightened up into his bossiest posture. 

“Right. Halsin pick him up. Gale you said that you found us an inn right? Were going there, now. Karlach, Lae’zel I want to know the second that other elf show’s back up.” 

He didn’t need to speak twice. Even Shadowheart, who usually had a quip or two to exchange with Lae’zel simply nodded and followed along as Rydel found himself scooped off the ground and tucked into the crook of the druid’s arm. 

His arms wound around Halsin’s neck, noodly in their strength as the shaking intensified. He buried his face into the male's neck, taking lungfuls of his pine, sage and loamy earth scent when he could force his body to breathe. As they moved away, his voice finally found itself and words began to spill from him like a broken dam. He couldn’t seem to shut up despite the fact that everyone in their group could hear. Despite the mortification that built alongside the fully bloomed panic attack. 

“Please. Please don't let him take me. I promise I'll be good, so good for you. Don’t let him erase me. Don’t let him say the words. I want to stay. I want to keep being me again. Don’t let Belryn take me away.”  

The arm around his lower body tightened. Kept his mind from floating away from his physical self as his party's pace quickened through the streets. They were a mere two blocks away from the inn when Lae’zel released one of her signals. 

“T’cha, his blood relation has followed us.” 

“Why couldn’t he have found us out in the wilds where we could draw our weapons without getting arrested?!” 

“I second that, I’ve never seen him like this..”

Rydel blocked out anything else as a wave of terror swamped him. His twin was a ranger. He would be able to track them wherever they went in town now that he knew their footsteps. His fingers clawed at the back of Halsin’s armor, nails biting deep as he fought to keep himself from spiraling completely. 

“He will not touch you.” 

The venom in Astarion’s voice soothed his raw nerves. Conviction. Rage. His brother, for all his privilege and power, would not find him alone. Just as they had not left the vampire alone against Cazador. Just as they had fought together at the Creche, against the Shadow Curse, gone through the trials of Shar, found magic items to soothe the orb, outwitted Myzora, soothed the infernal engine. Together.  

“Camp. Not the inn. He’ll make a scene.” 

Halsin nodded, his voice a deep rumble against Rydel’s chest as he changed directions, the others following without a word of question. 

“I shall inform Withers of our uninvited guest.”  TBC -

Have his playlist.

#bg3 #tav #halsin x tav #bg3 fanfic #halsin #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x halsin #ao3 #spotify #karlach #shadowheart #wyll ravengard #lae'zel #angst #tav backstory #self indulgent fic #gale #minor spoilers #bg3 spoilers #act 1 spoliers #act 2 spoilers #Spotify

[gaunt-and-hungry]

Lá Breithe Shona Duit

(I could not blend where I wished to omit some of the content. So You get the full thing minus the nsfw content. So... Here you go. Self Indulgent Birthday Content from the 13th of October.) Summary: Ere is wished a Happy Birthday and he makes a fool of himself. After having suffered a bullet wound just a few days prior, he has been in recovery aboard the Terror due to its proximity to his own ship. -Franklin is still alive/well at this time. - Ere and Francis both have weird dreams (See the Book for Francis' strange dreaming abilities) - Ere has been providing support to the Expedition for some time and gotten to develop good relations with most of the Command. - Franklin finds him charming, polite, and pleasant and mentally has adopted him. - Usage of unusual thawing techniques in the arctic. See Heinrich Reiss. Content Warnings: Consumption of Alcohol Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (This is my self indulgent trash. Feel free to ignore) Might seem a smidge ooc here and there. Was half written whilst inebriated. I have not fully edited this piece to make it proper.

It was October 13th. Erebus’ birthday. He shied from everything offered and bowed graciously to avoid the scrutiny of the other Command. The funeral for Second Master Gillies Alexander McDonald was a dreary thing but he was praised well. Erebus had been ushered to stand beside Captain Crozier and Commander Fitzjames as Sir John Franklin droned elegantly and magnificently about the man. His proper respects were well deserved most certainly. Though the younger Captain’s side still ached from the soreness administered in the early morning.

It had been perhaps just before seven when he was finally proper to sit with Captain Crozier. Thomas Blanky was the only other soul present, breakfast a rather private affair with Captain Crozier. Erebus had entered the wardroom, Crozier and Blanky both watching him expectantly. He shimmied along the wall, biding the both a tired good morning, polite and small.

The tone was low, drawled out and accented so thickly that he froze in spot a moment, “Erebus,” Captain Crozier called, greeting him and stunning him with his name. He was pinned by that tone, eyes wide and body frozen. Francis watched the breath get caught in his lungs as he stared expectantly at the Captain. He did not know when Crozier had ever called him by his first name. “Happy Birthday,” the tone was low, a soft rumble in his chest and sultry and far less decent than it ought to be.

Flushed a brilliant crimson, Erebus went to shift along the wall, continuing to his seat, stammering embarrassingly when he collided with the wardroom wall. He pinged off of it like a loose marble before struggling to catch himself. Catching the chair, he tried to brace himself but instead found himself all left feet; tripping, he took the chair down with him, the whole piece toppling over as he made a pained ‘oof’ and smacked the wood floor, the chair askew over top his body. He laid there, limp and utterly shameful, quivering.

“Thank you, Captain,” he spoke from the floor. Crozier had risen rather quickly in the mess of Erebus’ fall, Blanky turning in his seat. 

“Dear Jesus, Mary and Joseph, lad,” Francis Crozier’s tone had returned to his normal brogue, crouching to help him pick himself off the floor, “Are you alright?”

“Aye, sir. Yes, sir,” he struggled, breathing sharply as he stood. He winced, his body aching. The wounds in his right were still of course agitated, the pain of his fall seeping into the tissue. Crozier wasted no time nor effort and hoisted Erebus up himself, looping an arm around the younger man firmly. Pulled to his feet, Erebus was brilliantly flushed, embarrassment creeping up his neck and shading his cheeks ruddy red. “Sorry, sir,” he muttered, earning a reassuring pat from Crozier as he stood properly and helped himself to the chair Francis had righted. He sat, scooting himself with Blanky adjacent to him.

The Ice Master had eyed him with an expression of stunned amusement, flickering back at his long time friend who reseated himself at the side of the Captain. “I can’t say that I have ever seen a man truly head over heels before,” he laughed out. Erebus had kicked him right hard beneath the table, the ice master laughing his pain out, rubbing at his leg. Crozier simply smiled painfully, his own cheeks blushed in whatever embarrassment had been pulled from Erebus. He cleared his throat, “Anyway,” he watched Blanky with a look of surprise still, stunned as he, too, watched Erebus who seemed occupied with his hands beneath the table. The lad was clearly flustered and embarrassed beyond himself, trying to recover. “Happy you chose to join us for breakfast,” he offered a smile which Erebus returned fondly, seeming to melt a little at the gesture.

They had attended the funeral all together of course and finally returned to have Lunch. This time with all the Command. It was busy. Bustling. And sometime along the way Mr. Thomas Blanky revealed to the rest of the Company that it was, indeed, the birthday of one Erebus Nikolai Flamel. Sir John was less than pleased, congratulating him and wishing him well but having desperately needed to know that such an occasion was under his watch. James, too, was stunned, having insinuated that he could have accommodated some sort of pleasant birthday arrangement, certainly. Erebus smiled knowingly at him, a blush on his cheeks but declined the opportunity for an occasion. He did not desire to see the day turned attention towards him, having a dislike for such attentions, of course.

Erebus had accepted that notion gracefully, “I think we can arrange some time to enjoy company, yes. I would like that very much,” Fitzjames had to shift in his seat at that and smiled fondly. 

“Goodness,” James scoffed over his wine, “You and Francis both are avoidant of any such ministrations,” he teased, fondly beaming. “You’ll have to allow me to make it up to you in the least, my friend,” his eye was knowing and keenly watching him, a silent plea. “I would delight in treating you.” 

“How Old will you be, now, Mr. Flamel?” Sir John had asked politely, a gentle smile on his features, affectionate and adoring.

“Twenty nine, sir,” and Francis Crozier choked on his drink, swallowing hard as he brought his napkin to his lips. Everyone startled at the Captain’s visceral reaction, his eyes watery for a moment and a look of worry painting his features. He waved down their concerns.

“Twenty nine…!” Irving had exclaimed, “No offence, Erebus, but I thought you’d be older. At least thirty, I suppose. I mean… Looks can be deceiving; you still look rather young. But I thought you’d at least be my age.” He smiled gracefully, laughing softly.

“Old soul,” Sir John beamed happily, “Sofy is going to be thirty two next year,” he nodded approvingly, “If that’s of any consequence to your thoughts,” he lifted a glass at the implications.

Francis Crozier seemed tense during the lunch, his eyes flickering back and forth between Erebus and those that exchanged with him. Irving seemed fond of the man too, his posture comfortable. The reverent man seemed far more in tune with himself and social cues than he normally was. Usually tense and well reserved and far more proper, he seemed happy to converse with Erebus, asking questions about his wound and the healing. To which, Sir John himself, had commented on his strength and fortitude. Though Erebus admitted to the presence of discomfort in his side that it did not truly prevent him from much. Though, with a stern glare and clearing of his throat in a rather sharp and obstructive manner - a gesture that had the full table looking to Crozier - Erebus politely corrected himself as he submitted to the warning and ensured that he would be occupying Terror whilst he healed. It was, after all, Dr. Goodsir and McDonald who insisted on being able to provide supplemental aid in tending to the wounds. Mr. Thomas Jopson was, as well, keen to keep watch over the Queen Anne’s Captain whilst he mended from such lacerations to ensure proper rest and care.

The Erebites had left with James providing Erebus an adoring hug, enveloping his gangly arms about his smaller body and embracing him tenderly and with much affection. Reassurances were given and polite departure followed the Erebites away from the Terror only for Crozier to place a guiding and firm hand on the younger man’s shoulder, ushering him back to the wardroom where Jopson had politely brought them tea.

They had been alone together. Erebus focused on his studies and writing at the wardroom table. Mr. Blanky had reported news of the ships’ dislodgment from a pinnacle of speared ice that seemed to have latched lamprey-like against her hull. It was threatening to shred the bow if the melt did not thaw the offending attachment. When it had happened both Francis and Erebus caught their teacups, the ship itself banking sharply before bowing forwards. “Almost forgot what that felt like!” Erebus had laughed, “Looks like Mr. Blanky has freed her from her bondage to the ice,” he nodded approvingly, clambering over to the stern’s window and peering out. “We’re proper I think. Can’t see in this pitch. They need to drop anchors but I think they know that,” he added. 

“Thomas will handle it. As will Leftenant Little. What is the time?” 

Erebus had reached into his pocket and plucked his small watch from it, peering curiously in their Illuminator lamplight. “Almost five. The watch will change soon,” he tucked it away mindfully, shaking out his fingers.

Crozier looked up from his writing, surprised, “Oh. It’s almost supper.” Erebus returned to the table, tucking away his own writings as Francis approached him. “And I am reminded again that it is your birthday, to which I am ill prepared for.”

“Sir,” Erebus clutched his book and looked down at the foot's distance between them. Crozier was a head taller than him making him feel rather small before the Captain. “I am not one for occasions. The Blueberry Moonshine and cheesecake that Mr. Blanky brought from the Queen Anne is more than enough. I enjoy simple company and relaxing evenings for such things.”

“Well, let us have a small drink. Between the two of us then, hm?” He offered, “Your Blueberry Shine or my whiskey. Whatever you’d like of course.”

“Have you ever had blueberry moonshine, Sir?” Erebus smiled cheekily, turning to retrieve it from the wall cabinet where he had tucked it away earlier in the day.

“I confess,” He rocked a little as the ship was still settling in a gentle bow of the frigid waters. He gathered two glasses. “I have not had the pleasure of trying any moonshine,” he placed both on the wardroom table.

Erebus uncapped the jar lid, a face being made from Crozier as the younger man poured them the rich purple liquid. “Does it always come in a jar like this?”

“Aye, sir, it’s how they make it. Well, the Americans. This is what the Americans call Moonshine. A little different,” Crozier was nodding softly, eyeing his glass and the colour as he lifted it.

“Well,” he pressed his lips together, “To you. To being another year older. Lá breithe shona duit.”

Erebus tapped his glass against Croziers, giving a short bow mid waist but pausing as to not agitate the injury to his person. He muttered a soft whispering ‘thank you’ and slammed back the liquid. The burn was as beautiful and graceful, lively and thick on his tongue as he hoped. Sugary and sweet tartness of blueberries met his taste buds and ran down the back of his throat, his swallow easy and a rich pleasure. His cheeks warmed at the simple joy of it.

However, Crozier struggled, giving a rough cough as he brought the back of his hand to his lips. “Aye that’s somethin’ else,” he croaked, a soft cough coming from his chest again, “Oh Mary and Joseph,” he cursed, “That burns like fire.”

“Does it?” Erebus poured another though shorter this time and sipped and swallowed. “I’m surprised, Captain,” his lips parted in a wide grin, “You drink whiskey. Yet you think this burns? Your drink licks all the way down for me. This is smooth like butter.”

“Aye,” he watched as Erebus gave them both another slip and then capped the jar. “Your tenacity in swallowing this drink could strike fear in a man,” He laughed and accepted. Though he gave it a sip on the second chance while Erebus drank heartily of it. “It is quite sweet. Reminds me of a pudding or a pie,” he commented. “Spices and all.”

“Aye,” the younger man grinned, “They are good at that. Almost like a cobbler,” he commented, “This is a good batch. I’m quite pleased. My men spoil me.”

“Which brings me to ask you,” Francis paused tensely before tossing the rest of the drink back. “I do have something to give you. I am not good at giving gifts, I must have you know.” He shifted on the spot, pacing away from Erebus briefly. 

“Oh, sir,” he replied, a pained strain in his furrowed brow as he watched Francis walk to different corners of the Wardroom. “You needn’t give me anything. Please. I am quite happy as is.”

“I would like to,” he argued, “But I must have you close your eyes for my sake. I am not very good at this,” his toothy grin widened in self depreciation, “I insist.”

Erebus obeyed, a nervous bubbling creeping through his body. “Whatever it is, I am certain that it is quite fine,” he reassured, “I hate to put the Captain out,” he could suddenly feel the warmth radiating from Francis as his footsteps came closer.

“Nonsense,” he hushed lowly. “I’m not certain what you like,” he was speaking quietly, a sheepish tone to his brogue, “But I hear you may appreciate this.”

The touch froze Erebus as one of Francis’ hands cradled the side of his neck, the other running along his jaw to hold him steady as he pressed his lips against Erebus’. The other practically crumbled in the hold, his hands snapping up to grasp tightly to the front of Crozier’s coat, clinging desperately. Francis had to catch him, the weakness in the others’ legs threatened to drag him to the floor. Erebus clung, soaking up the sensation on his lips before parting briefly. The warmth was brilliant, a fire and taste of sugared blueberries. Crozier’s lips were neither soft nor calloused but something in between and Erebus found himself parting his lips as he felt the hot dampness of a tongue asking entry and he returned the sentiment with eager openness, returning the kiss with equal measure and a heart hammering thickly in his throat. It could have been minutes or seconds, Erebus would not have known. He soaked up the raw feeling as he steadied his legs beneath him, arms finding purchase to wrap around Crozier desperately like a drowning man. The sturdy anchor of his body kept him stable, his senses absorbing as much of the man as he could muster. The raw desire to have Francis Crozier crawl beneath his skin and settle there became a burning itch.

He parted, hands still pawing at Crozier’s back for a form of stability as he collected himself. He could feel tears welling in his eyes a little. Desperate and hungry, adoring and dreamlike, he felt his heart in his throat. “Ah… Sorry. I admit I am actually quite weak for you.” He confessed, trying to give himself a little space.

“Might I,” he croaked softly, throat tight, “May I be greedy?” he asked, the tone shaking with a tense tenor like a bowstring pulled too tightly.

There was no hesitation in Francis Rawdon Moira Crozier. He leaned down and recaptured those lips, a pleasant exhale coming from the younger man. Fingers pressed into his jacket as Erebus clutched him as if he were going to dissipate into the stillness of the wardroom cabin. The creaking of the ship had brought a soothing tempo to the two of them as it rocked so softly and gently. There was wetness on Erebus’ cheeks as his shoulders shook; Francis parted from him to look at him with a brief flash of concern knitting between his brows. “Aah,” Erebus whimpered, “May I just… hold you for a bit? Please,” He was pulled into Crozier’s arms.

“Happy Birthday, Ere,” he whispered gently to him, clutching the smaller body to his tightly, mindful of his side as he did so. Sobs wracked the other’s body, his shoulders shuddering as deep breaths were taking in and out through silent sobs.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” He grappled Francis’ form, a hungry and needy thing that soaked up every inch of bodily contact as if was going to mend his wounds and save his soul. He could only whisper out a litany of gratitude that faded as he buried his face into the wool of Francis’ coat.

“A certain two men suggested it. I admit I worried I would have offended you. But after this morning, well,” He gave a soft laugh that vibrated through his chest. It was a nervous thing. “It’s difficult for me to say this,” he began again, breathing deep, “You make me feel desired. My… erstwhile pursuits have never left me feeling as if I am someone to be longed. You make it easy for me to shoulder much. In the short time I have known you, the load upon my back and mind has eased.” He squeezed the body clung to him firmly. “You’ve done something. Thawed something within me. Within m’heart. Without your presence I’m occupied with fancies of my imagination and worries that haunt me. My dreams have gone to you when sleep finally drags me heavy enough to keep me in my bed. I need you to know.”

“I dream of you often, Francis,” he replied, unburying his face, “God, I think of you more than I should. It is shameful to say, but I love you. I find myself quite in love and I do not know if I can do much for it save tell you.” He kept his hands on the Captain as he finally looked at him with red and puffy eyes, face damp with tears.

Francis took the back of his sleeve and wiped away at his cheeks, “Certainly, I love you as well. Dearly. I cannot bear to think of you too far from The Terror. Any time you leave, naught five steps from my ship and disaster worries at my mind.”

Erebus laughed, smiling at the gesture as he sniffled softly, “I’m a depraved man with how much I care for you,” he confessed politely, pressing his forehead against Crozier’s chest. “I think I am feverish with it, even.”

“I propose,” Francis drawled softly rubbing his back soothingly, “We occupy this thought a little between the two of us. Keep it well stitched. Certainly Jopson can be mindful, hell he is the most discrete of any man I know. And we will see where this current carries?” It was an open question. It was an open invitation. It was an opportunity presenting itself before the two of them with honesty and mutual adoration. 

“I would like that very much,” Erebus nodded. “I would like that very much for my Birthday and the days to come.”

#my writing #writing blog #the terror #francis crozier #original terror characters #original character insert #francis crozier x original character #feel free to scroll past this as a whole #dead dove do not eat #self indulgent fic #Edit: Shit correct McDonalds name to MacBean

[unkownknowledge]

I wonder how Sagau would react to reader disliking characters?

I'll write for my personal experience of disliking characters but please feel free to add your own ^-^

Imagine the pain Ei would feel knowing you stopped playing for a long time because her puppet disturbed you, and what if they found out that, because of how she acted afterwards, you stayed away longer. Imagine the pain of being worse than the character who kicked around your two most beloveds

Sure some would forgive her for it, as it's not her fault what you find disturbing, but the majority of teyvat would kill her were it not for divine protection (Basically they can't change the world in a way that would disrupt the story)

Then you arrive in teyvat and Ei knows her time is up, as divine protection may be lifted if you decide to kill the "protected ones". She doesn't even fight as she's dragged to you as you arrive in Inazuma, and as she bows ready to accept death, she's suprised by how....horrified you sound.

She thought it was because you hated her so much, but then you spoke, "what?! Sure she did horrible things and should have been punished more than she has, killing her won't fix anything."

She would look up if her head wasn't-

But her head suddenly wasn't held down, and was instead lifted, "you see me as a god, correct? Then here is my divine punishment: you must become a better ruler, and change your statue from a vain monument into the site of a museum. That way this mistake won't be so easily repeated in the future."

All of Inazuma was in shock, suprised that you were so merciful!

If there was any doubt of you being the all loving creator, there isn't anymore.

#genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau #self indulgent fic #ei genshin #sagau Ei #Signora mentioned #Aether mentioned #Venti mentioned

[delusionally-loveless-by-choice]

"Because I love you"

Bo Sinclair x gn!Reader

Warning/Possible TW(?): angsty?? (I tried)), fluff at the end?? (Also tried), Drunk bo, Angry Bo, yelling (Bo), mention of ringing and buzzing in ears

Word count: 1k

Author’s Note: SELF INDULGENT FIC. Wrote this on impulse because my ears keep ringing and i need more Bo fics that aren’t just sex, but also aren’t just entirely fluff. I need more hurt. Also important to note that because i wrote this unplanned and so suddenly I mostly definitely did not get Bo’s character done at all. Couldn’t do him any justice and for that I apologize, i just needed to get this angsty fic urge to get out. And ALSO reader has like hearing sensitivity so loud noises make their ears ring, so just keep that in mind :)

It was one of those nights again.

Where Bo was getting drunk. Drinking the night away, to forget, to make everything go away.

You noticed that he always drank like this in order to lose himself. So that he wouldn’t have to deal with remembering everything or anything.

Seeing him like this aways hurt. You couldn’t help it.

This came naturally. The need to care for someone you love.

However, every single time Bo got like this, his usual angry outbursts seemed to increase. His volume once a ten, now a hundread.

You already had issues when he would raise his voice when he wasn’t drunk, or that drunk. His voice was just too fucking loud when he yelled. And your already sensitive hearing caused an immensely insufferable ringing to occur. It happened every time you’d were exposed to loud or high pitched tones. It was annoying and sometimes even hurt.

…

The first time you were victim to his booming yell was when Bo was in an argument with Lester.

Lester had accidentally let a victim get away. Bo was furious.

While you were inside the house making something to eat for everyone (since the boys were terrible in the kitchen) , you heard the commotion.

The vulgarity that Bo spilled was slightly audible from inside. And as you stepped out, it only became clearer. And as you got closer , out of worry for both Lester and Bo, your ears began to ring as Bo’s voice hit incredibly high pitches.

You tried to get Bo to calm down. Shitty ass idea. He instead just directed his anger put at you.

“Shut the fuck up! This ain’t got nothin’ t’do wit’ you!”

Though he said it in order to keep you away from himself. He knew how ferocious his anger can get, and he didn’t want you to get on the wrong side and end up getting hurt.

But Bo still ended up hurting you. His yelling not only hurt you but it scared you as well. Usually your first instinct would have been to yell back at the asshole who dared to yell at you, but this was Bo. You knew how he could get but you have never been on the receiving end of his anger. You were just surprised at how terrifying it was to be on this end.

As you stepped back to go back inside , you looked back at Lester who gave you a sympathetic nod for you to get back inside. He felt bad you had to get to face Bo’s anger this way.

…

After a few times you had gotten used to Bo’s antics. How he could just be mad or irritated some times he’s he’d yell a “God damn ‘it!” Or “Leave me ‘lone!”

Sure you’d gotten use to what to do to avoid meeting his anger but that never stopped the fucking ringing that came from his fucking yelling.

You tried talking to him about it. And Bo, though he’d never soberly admit it, he tried to not raise his voice as much when he knew you were near. Especially when he was angry. He was getting better at, well not holding his tongue, but getting better at not yelling so fucking loudly!

It had worked and you made sure to thank him, but not directly since he’d insist that he “don’t know what yer goin’ on ‘bout.”

But as he sometimes got a rougher day, he’d go to his favorite way to wind down: getting fucking wasted. But getting drunk Bo was never fun in being his company when he was fucking mad. He was just either a pain in the ass who wouldn’t shut the fuck up or an asshole who wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

…

So here we are back to the night.

Where Bo was busy getting drunk.

You wanted him to stop before he reached any point that would make him feel regret. But you were too late.

He sloshed and slurred. His steps where uncoordinated and he bumped into anything and everything near him. His usual murmured curses were now said in normal tone. It was like he couldn’t control how loud he was, that or he couldn’t hear how loud he was being.

After seeing him fail miserably at trying to get up, you go to him and try to give him a hand.

But your help was met with Bo jerking his arm from you. As if it stung.

“Don’t need no fuckin help, i know how to fuckin walk!” His voice boomed. As with you being like three feet away from him, you got a good fucking range of how loud he can be. He wasn’t even trying! But his tone was deafening.

At his response you jumped and immediately your hand reached for your ears. The ringing loud and you couldn’t tell which was louder, it or Bo.

Your reaction wasn’t known to Bo. He was too busy still trying to get up and letting out strings of curses.

“Bo please, m just trying to help.”

“I already said i ain’t want any!” As he said this he turned to see you wincing at his volume. Its like it fucking clicked and his feeling of guilt and anger flushed fully in. He felt bad that he was causing you this pain and distress. And hr felt angry at you for putting up with it, why couldn’t you just call him out on his shit? But he was also angry at himself, why did he have to cause you so much pain? Why couldn’t he just not fuck it all up? Why couldn’t he just be like fucking Vincent? Fuck.

“Fuck, m, shit, m sorry… i didn’t, didn’t mean it like tha.. is just.. “ bo tried to salvage what he could , he wanted to not hurt you .

“Its okay Bo, lets just get you to bed, okay..? Its okay..” he nodded but kept silent.

He didn’t want to hurt you. He was just this way. Loud and boisterous , maybe not all the time but it was part of him. And somehow even though this part of of him sometimes hurt you, you still put up with his shit. As your ears rung you still went to him. He wondered why you hadn’t just left if he hurt you so much.

He wondered this all the way until you helped flop him onto bed. Then he looked over at you and asked “why?”

This was clearly not enough, you gave him a confused look, this was enough for him to elaborate.

“Why you still here? I jus keep hurtin you, n you …” he was tired and just kept trailing off. His voice now wasn’t loud , nor was it soft, he just sounded like was gonna fall asleep. So you took this sad opportunity to admit your longing for the man. “Because I love you Bo, you fucking idiot, i care too much about you.” The ringing subsided, though you knew that as long as you were with Bo, the ringing and buzzing could always come back. But you knew that Bo cared and so he’d try his best to work on it, for you. Because he cared for you too.

#bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #slasher fic #bo sinclair fanfic #bo sinclair angst #self indulgent fic #bo sinclair ooc prob sorry #bo sinclair/reader #bo sinclair x gender neutral reader #how do i tag lmao #this is like my second officially posted fanfic post like ever #fanfiction cringe #fanfiction