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felassan · 3 months ago

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David Gaider on Fenris, under a cut for length:

"Fenris. Now, DA2 is a story all on its own but I'm not going to go there other than to sum it up as "we had just over a year and a half to make this". It's why I only wrote one follower, Fenris, and although it'll make his fans mad: I probably shouldn't have. Let me explain. The way we'd approach making the followers is brainstorming a list of concepts covering first the array of gameplay classes (and sub-classes) and then making sure they each have some skin in the game when it came to the story's conflicts - ideally having characters on both sides of the major ones. Why? You can't make a player care about the world, but you can make them care about characters who care about the world. It's the easiest way to provide hooks into a conflict, outside of it knocking on the player's door. Heck, it's probably better than that. Players will burn the world for approval. After that, we'd decide things like romances/sexuality. Then the writers would pick who they'd write. I always let my writers pick first. I figured they do their best work when it's something they're inspired to write... and they got so few chances at ownership, I wanted to give it whenever I could It's why I (reluctantly) let Patrick wrest Cole from my grasp in DAI, a character I'd created in Asunder. It's also why I let Jennifer take Anders in DA2, who I'd started in Awakening. In this instance, it meant I was left with the angry elven warrior character who nobody else appeared to want."

"It should have been my first clue that something was up. The second was how the artists had zero clue what to do with him. The art concepts were all over the place - from mages to crows to... well, even weirder. No matter how hard I tried to explain the idea, the artists simply didn't seem to get it Does this mean he was a bad character? Not exactly. Just an idea that probably deserved some re-examining. You can tell when an idea has a certain spark, and part of that is being easy to communicate. Sadly, there wasn't time for any re-examining even if it'd occurred to me. And it didn't, not yet. If it had, if I had time, maybe I'd have re-booted him as a templar. Someone pro-templar rather than anti-mage, who could give a personal hook into Meredith and give the templars some badly-needed humanity. But this falls into the shoulda-woulda-coulda category. I had a follower to write. Quickly. I struggled, at first. It was hard to get away from "Fenris hates everything, all the time". It felt very one-note, and I didn't know where to take him. My third clue, I guess. I also wasn't sure if I was the right person to write a former slave. I did know that couldn't be the center of his story. I did know trauma, however. How it can eat you up. How the hate and resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. How it can infect your relationships. Fenris's trauma isn't my trauma, obviously, but here I dipped into a more personal part of myself than I'd ever done before."

"It gave me the center of his story I was missing, but wow was it uncomfortable. In a good way, maybe. I likely wouldn't have, if I hadn't been so desperate. In a way, I think DA2 had some of our best writing *because* of the timeline. It was raw, with little time to sand down the interesting parts. I wouldn't have done the "Fenris doesn't talk to you for three years" thing if I'd known we were going to cut all the reactivity initially planned for the time jumps. When that call was made, I campaigned to cut the jumps to a year, but there was no time for the revisions it'd need. So, um. Awkward. I used to get asked where the name came from, and I... don't remember? Obviously it's derived from Fenrir, but I don't recall why we picked that. Someone pointed at Fenris the Feared from Joe Abercrombie's books... and I did read them, so maybe the name lodged in my head? Wouldn't be the first time. Casting Fenris turned out to be easy. He was the first time I requested a specific VA and got him. (The other times were Merrill and then Solas, my two "I want these specific Welsh actors, please".) Why? OK, if you must know, I'd played a bit of Final Fantasy XII. I heard Balthier. "Yes, that." 😅 And Gideon Emery was a delight, as it turned out. Consummate professional, and that lovely gravel in his voice... good god. Bite the knuckles. There was a struggle to find the voice at the outset where I did my best not to say "just pls do Balthier" but he found Fenris on his own and it was amazing. Overall, Fenris turned out better than he had any right to, considering the rocky start. He had a lot of soul, a vulnerability forged by pain that struck a chord with a lot of players, and I'm glad. Do I regret anything? Probably having him live in a corpse-filled mansion that would never update. That's a hindsight thing, though, as again the cut to reactivity over the time jumps came late. Outside of that, maybe letting the player give him back to Danarius? Poor shock value and a waste of resources because almost nobody took the option. Good evil options are ones that are tempting to take. And the lyrium tattoos. Interesting concept, but they're probably why you'll never see Fenris in a future DA. He requires a custom body, and the tattoos make that expensive. It's why I put Fenris in my 4th DA novel - the cancelled one. Don't fret, though. He died in it, so this way he lives on. 😉"

[source thread]

User: "Wait wait how does he die in [the cancelled novel]??" David Gaider: "Gloriously, after taking up a cause he didn't believe in at first but then made his own, one that allowed him to rediscover what it meant to be elven." [source] David Gaider: "I’m not sorry about the novel cancellation. I’m the one who cancelled it. I am kinda sad we couldn’t make it work, though. Considering it was after I left the DA team, it would have been my final DA hurrah." [source] David Gaider: "From my perspective, it was kind of "well if you're never going to use him again, let me at least give him a proper send off" and the story required a glorious death... but I get that's not the story his biggest fans would want (which is Hawke + Fenris 4ever), so it's just as well." [source]

User: "You all did some incredible work with such a tight deadline" David Gaider: "I'm of the opinion that even if we'd had only another six months to bake, DA2 would be remembered as a classic and not either a flawed gem or underbaked sequel, depending on who you ask." [source]

David Gaider: "Just to clarify the "they're probably why you'll never see Fenris" thing, as it's spawned commentary: 1. It's the reasoning as was explained to me back then. 2. Obviously, if Bio *really* wanted to, they'd find a way around it. But it was a complication that meant he couldn't be included casually." [source]

#dragon age #bioware #fenris #the fenaissance #video games #long post #longpost #cole #spirit boy #solas #dragon age 5

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starcrossed-lov3rz · 8 months ago

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The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 1

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, mild smut (at the end), threesome

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: ~1.9K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“God my head fucking hurts,” you whine, sitting up to rub your eyes. “That wine really hit out of nowhere.” Your head pounds, it has to be part of a hangover. The last thing you remember before drinking yourself to sleep was getting fired. Your boss hadn’t even had the decency to let you know face to face. An HR representative and your manager requested a zoom call at the end of the day and politely told you to ‘clean your desk.’

After nearly three years of work with the same accounting firm, it was weird to not wake up early and head into the office. The worst part really was that your performance was still stellar, the firm was just hemorrhaging money after several questionable expansions.

Despite the pounding headache and sensitivity to light, you force yourself to open your eyes. “What the fuck?!” Glancing around the room frantically, you panic as you realize you weren’t waking up in the comfort of your room. You had to be the subject of some prank reality tv show because the decor was undoubtedly some renaissance festival shit. The walls were brick with large tapestries decorating the stone. You were laid in the center of a giant four poster bed, black and red canopies flowing.

Slipping from the tangle of sheets and blankets, you pad towards the door. “Okay,” you call out, “you got me. Very funny.”

Silence.

“This is so weird” you murmur, pushing the door open as gently as possible to peak out. A woman rushes by you, dressed in some kind of drab linen and an apron. “Excuse me!” you shout, attempting to get her attention.

The short woman slowed down, stopping to curtsy quickly at the sight of you. “My lady, forgive me. I didn’t you see you there!”

“My lady?” You asked. “What are you talking about? This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny, my lady,” she replied quietly. “Please don’t tell your wife I was making jokes! I swear I meant no harm-”

“My wife?!” Everyone has officially gone off the deep end. First this medieval times shit, now apparently you have a wife.

The woman’s eyes go wide, “Your wife, Queen Rhaenyra. My lady, are you unwell?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I have no idea what’s going on. I lost my job. I don’t know where I am or apparently who I am. I just want-” You choke off into sobs.

“Let me help you back to your room,” she offered, taking your elbow. “I’ll let the Queen know you’re unwell.”

You nodded, letting her lead you back into the room. The woman helped you into a steaming bath and left you to soak while she fetched your wife. “Can’t believe someone made an honest woman of me,” you laugh.

At some point, the entire situation stopped feeling like a prank. Maybe it was watching the maid fill the tub painstakingly bucket by bucket, or the significant lack of electricity. Either way, your situation was beginning to feel more and more real. You grab the bar of soap and lather up a cloth, scrubbing furiously at your skin.

“That’s weird,” you murmur as you notice that your skin seems far too perfect. You usually had a couple scars littering your arms and legs, leftovers from frequently crashing your bike as a kid and general clumsiness. They all seemed to have vanished into thin air, leaving nothing but perfectly smooth, supple skin behind. “Okay, I’m officially going crazy.”

You see a small mirror on the ledge next to the tub, and reach out with shaky hands. You sigh in relief as you glance into the mirror and see that you look the same. At least you have something familiar here.

“Admiring the view? I know I am.” A deep voice purred from behind you.

Tossing the mirror back, you swiftly cover your chest and pray that the water obscurs the rest of you. “What the fuck?!” You yell, turning to confront whatever pervert decided to interrupt your bath. A tall man towered over the tub, his white hair practically glowing as the candlelight reflected off of it.

“I’m trying to have an existential crisis in here,” you hiss. “Can you come back later or something?”

He snorted a laugh, stalking forward to grab a brush from the side table and sit behind you. “And miss this opportunity? I should think not, my love.” He gently began detangling your hair and brushing it out.

“My love? You do know I’m a married woman?” You retort.

“You never let me forget,” he replied, kissing the top of your hair.

“I mean I have a wife, asshole!” You twist around to snatch the brush from his hands, but he lifts it out of your reach.

“What a coincidence,” he purrs, blatantly staring at your breasts. “I do too. Two, if I’m not mistaken.” His eyes dart down to your left hand, as if he knows something you don’t.

You glance at the ring that’s been there since you woke up. The black metal has a dragon insignia that looks awfully similar to the embroidery on this man’s shirt. “Fuck.”

The man’s brows furrow, “what’s wrong?” He sets the brush down, grabbing a sheet and pulling you from the bath. He wraps you up and sits you in his lap. The warmth seeping into your skin feels so familiar and you feel yourself begin to break. Tears stream down your cheeks, and you burrow your face into his neck to hide them.

Warm hands rub up and down your back soothingly. “My love, I cannot fix whatever is wrong if you don’t tell me.” He hums. “You don’t even have to tell me. Just give Rhaenyra a name and I will ensure whoever made you cry will never breathe again.”

You laugh at the irony. “I don’t know who Rhaenyra is. I’m not sure I even know who I am.”

Before he can respond, a door slams. “Daemon, thank Gods you’re here. The maid said y/n was acting ill and didn’t rememb-”

Your head peaks up over the man–Daemon’s shoulder to see the woman who ran in. Her hair is just as white as Daemon’s and her clothing adorned with the same dragon insignia. This must be Queen Rhaenyra.

“Y/n?!” Rhaenyra rushes over, kissing your cheek before she hugs you tightly.

“My queen,” Daemon greets, leaning in for a kiss. You find yourself pressed between the two, and as much as you don’t want to admit it….the warmth and pressure feels comforting…like home.

“I hate to break this up,” you say, wiping the last of your tears away. “But can someone tell me what is going on. The last thing I remember was being fired, getting wine drunk, and going to bed early.”

“Fired?” Rhaenyra looked confused and immediately started inspecting every exposed inch of your skin. “Did you try to feed Caraxes again? He’s a temperamental old man, just like his rider.”

“Who is Caraxes? Do ya’ll have a dog or something?”

“Dog?!” Daemon sounded almost offended. “A dog?! Rhaenyra we should fetch a maester. Our little dragon is either begging for a punishment or in need of a healer.”

Rhaenyra attempts to cover her laugh. “Caraxes, Daemon’s dragon? You insist on telling him a goodnight story at least once a week.”

“He’s a dragon of war for fucks sake,” Daemon mutters. “You’ve been making him soft.”

“Dragon?!” Your eyes go wide. “You’re joking. You’ve gotta be fucking me right now.”

“We are most definitely no-”

“We certainly could be-”

Daemon and Rhaenyra spoke at the same time. You would have laughed, but the implications of Daemon’s words were starting to settle in.

“Wait,” you being. “So if Queen Rhaenyra is my wife….and Daemon has two wives…and you two seem to be close…that means-”

“That you both are all mine,” Daemon purrs.

“Daemon, we must call for the maester. This seems serious, she doesn’t even remember us.”

“What year is this?” You ask, not sure if you want the answer.

“125 AC.” Rhaenyra responds.

“And where are we?”

“The red keep.”

“What, is that like England or something?”

“We are in Westeros.” Rhaenyra feels your forehead. “Daemon, put y/n to bed while I have the maids summon the maester.”

You yelp in surprise and Daemon stands up, holding you close to his chest. He carries you to a vanity, setting you gently on the bench before rummaging through some drawers. “Arms up, love.” He says, pulling a white shift over your head. You stare of into space as Daemon gently braids your hair.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” You ask as he ties a ribbon at the ends of the braid.

“You and Rhaenyra are quite the demanding duo when you want to be,” he snorts. “The staff might revolt and establish Rhaenyra’s cunt of a half-brother as king if I bothered them everytime you both needed your hair done.”

“Language,” you chide. Daemon rolls his eyes before he sweeps you back up into his arms. He carries you to the bed, depositing you in the center before he climbs in. Daemon sits up, back against the headboard as he pulls you in to lean against his chest.

“Do you really not remember us?” He asks.

“How long have we been married?”

“Five years. We were married in the old ways. Your High Valyrian wasn’t as good back then though.” Daemon laughs. “But it was perfect, and I wouldn’t trade you both for anything.”

“So if Rhaenyra is queen, what does that make you?” You ask. He had to be King, right?

“A lucky man.”

You laugh, and lightly hit his chest. “No, really. I don’t remember anything. Help a girl out here.”

“Prince consort.” Daemon answers. You nod, so Rhaenyra must be in charge around here.

“So how’d I end up married to Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Consort Daemon?” You ask in the poshest British accent you can muster.

“You threw yourself at my feet saying ‘Please Rhaenyra, I cannot live without you! You are the sun that brightens the sky and the stars that guide ships home!’” Rhaenyra teased. You sit up to see that Rhaenyra isn’t alone, she brought back some balding man with her.

“I didn’t say that-” You protest.

“Really?” Daemon laughs. “My queen, it’s not proper to toy with someone who is ill.”

“You’re one to talk,” Rhaenyra says, raising a brow. “You seemed rather close when I came in earlier.”

You groan. How did you manage to survive these two for five years.

!!SMUT BELOW!!

PREVIEW FOR PART TWO

“No,” Daemon scolds, clasping your hands together in his larger one and wrenching your body into his. “You’re not in charge here. You’re going to listen and obey like a good little girl.” You whine in response, nodding furiously in agreement. Suddenly, Rhaenyra’s warm body brushes up against your back. She nibbles lightly at your ear before kissing and licking her way down your neck.

“No need to be cruel,” Rhaenyra purrs. “Our little dragon is just begging for attention the only way she knows how.”

You whimper, canting your hips into Daemon’s. He slides a thigh between yours, pressing it up against your cunt. Your eyes roll back and you moan at the friction. “Please,” you breathe out, your teary eyes meeting his.

NOTE: Hey all! I'm not dead, sorry for disappearing! Life happened (new job, had to travel home for a funeral). But, I got my shit back together after taking some time for myself and I'm ready to give y'all the stories I've been cooking up. I have some steamy and inspiring requests I'm working on for Feyd Rautha (so if you requested...they're coming). Glad to be back and BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR PART 2!!!! - Lacie <3

Want to be added to a taglist? Click HERE!

#house of the dragon #hotd #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x reader #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon x rhaenyra x reader #married life #isekai #game of thrones #reader insert #fem reader #hotd daemon #hotd rhaenyra #hotd fic

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flippinpancakes64 · 7 months ago

Note

Hello could I request an Immortal!reader who the Cullen's met in the past before they met again in the modern day? The reader could be another vampire or just immortal for another, completely unrelated reason.

Btw I love your work! It's so much fun to read and re-read :D

The Cullens with a Reader from their past

Re-read?!?!??!?!? I still can’t get over the fact that you guys actually like reading my shitty little stories thank you so much?!?!

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He met you briefly when he was on his crime vigilante streak in Britain a few years ago

He’s definitely not proud of the version of him that you met

You were another “vegetarian” vampire and to this day he’s still upset that you met him when he was giving into his temptations

Kinda like when you see a goth baddie at the store but you’re dressed like an npc

You had managed to find your way to the Denalis, joining their coven in Canada

The Cullens were on their way to a new house and had decided to visit their cousins since they were nearby

He’s shocked you even recognize him

And he’s a little ashamed

He does his best to prove to you that he can be civilized

Even though you never asked him to lol

You do find that he is a much nicer person when he’s not acting all dark and broody tho

He visits you more often after that and eventually convinces you to join the Cullens

Alice:

The two of you were very close right after Alice had been turned

You were friends with the other vampire who had turned her

But after he died you two went your separate ways

Alice to look for Jasper and the Cullens and you to just… wander

She was still attuned to your future, keeping tabs on you just to make sure you were still okay

She had called for you when the Cullens needed defending from the Volturi, but you hadn’t answered

One day though she saw your course change and you started wandering towards the Cullens

She waited for months for you to finally arrive

She welcomed you with open arms, you didn’t even know that’s where you were heading

She says it was fate

She helps you with everything, all of the cravings and the lifestyle changes

She regrets leaving you all of those years ago, but she's happy to finally be back with you

Jasper:

He turned you

You were just another face in the crowd of Maria’s servants

The only difference is that you got away

He let you run, you’d always seemed to have better self control

He didn’t feel like he was unleashing a monster upon the world

Years passed and he didn’t think about you

There were a couple other vampires who he let go, it wasn’t uncommon for him to forget about them

But one day, Alice gets a vision of another vampire coming into their town, their eyes red

Everyone is on guard, but then you show up and he recognizes you

You're not a threat to them, you were simply passing through

You're delighted to see him again after all this time, forever grateful that he let you walk free

You saw how he had changed over the years, becoming more docile, and much happier

So you decided to stay

You and Jasper bond quickly over your shared past and your current struggles with cravings

Rosalie:

For a brief time when it was just Edward, Esme, Carlisle, and Rosalie, she met you

You were an immortal, but she never found out specifically what you were

It was a whirlwind

She was still vulnerable and angry after her death

You loved her, but she was still so new and angry that she couldn't really reciprocate

You both spent all of your time together, never leaving each others' sides

But the Cullens left eventually

And Rosalie went with them

You were heartbroken, but you couldn't stop her

You meet her again by accident

You're in a crowded shopping center and you accidentally bump into her shoulder

She whips around to give you the stink eye but then she realizes it's you

She brings you back to the Cullens and you two talk for hours

She feels terrible about how she treated you in the past

But it's okay cause she's making up for it now :)

Emmett:

You were his first partner

Back when he was alive, of course

You were each others' first love, but after he was turned you never saw each other again

He thought he would never see you again, never be able to give you the closure you deserved

He tried to track you down a couple of years later after he'd gained some control of himself, but all he found was your obituary

But now the Cullens had moved to a different city and they were all set to start school again

They'd all been assigned a current student to help show them around, and he was assigned someone who looked a whole lot like you

Spoiler alert it was you who knew

He's so happy

You quickly join the Cullens

Throuple with Rosalie?

Esme:

You were an old friend of Carlisle's

Esme had met you at her wedding, and you two hit it off instantly

She felt terrible and confused that she had feelings for you, especially since she just got married

So she let you leave without telling you how she felt

But now you were back in town

You'd decided you'd gone too long without seeing your doctor friend and his wife, so you decided to pay them a visit

Esme was so excited that you were back

She didn't want you to ever leave

So when it got to the end of your stay and you were packing your bags, she decided to try to get you to stay

You didn't really need any convincing

Carlisle:

He had treated you as a patient many many years ago

Before he even had Edward, back when it was just him

You had broken your leg and sought him out for treatment

He loved you

It was around this time when he started considering making a vampire to be his companion, but he wasn't fully decided yet

If he had met you a couple of years later, if you had been in worse condition, if, if, if

He kept thinking about you

Over the years it got better, but he never forgot you

Imagine the surprise when he finds you again, turned into a vampire

He hesitates a bit to welcome you back into his life

He has a wife, multiple "kids", and who knows you might not even want to be around him anymore

But after some pushing from everyone he takes you in

Yay for happiness

Vampire! Bella:

You and Bella used to be best friends in middle school

You would go everywhere together, do everything together

You were inseparable

And then your family moved away

You were both devastated

Neither of you had a phone then, and because Bella moved so often too with Phil and Renee, you both didn't have a reliable home phone either

So you lost contact

But she never forgot you

Now it's about a year after her transformation, and she followed Edward to Dartmouth to study

And who does she meet on the first day of her classes but her old best friend

You've grown up, and you look amazing

You two immediately pick up like nothing ever happened

She tells you about vampires and about her life

And she turns you

Happily ever after

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rubysgirl32 · 8 months ago

Text

Behind the Cameras

Ruby Cruz x Fem!reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers (kinda), VERY ANGSTY (reader and Ruby get to a fight), swearing, self hatred thoughts, and inner homophobia from reader

Summary: Reader gets paired with ruby for the press tour, which sucked because ruby seemed to constantly be dick around her.

Author's note: I just re edited this, so its more complete and its in second person pov rather than third, so yeah! enjoy 🤍

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

Being casted for the second season of Willow was something you never really expected. The audition in itself felt like a fever dream, but actually getting the role felt like your entire life was falling into place, just as you would dream of as a kid. You grew up with Willow, your brother and you were obsessed with George Lucas, so it was a constant binge between Star Wars, Willow and Howard the Duck. It was truly a dream for you, to get to fly to Wales, to be invited into this magical world and meet everyone, especially Warwick. What wasn’t a dream come true, was her.

“And yeah, this is truly a gift being back to playing a fucking disney princess, its crazy to me” Ruby replies at the interviewer, her brushed hair perfectly in place, and her lips forming a stupid perfect smile in such an effortless way as answers the question.

“And with the new cast, how has it been adding new characters and extending the willow family?” The woman asks, shuffling in her seat as she leans in closer for the answer

Ruby’s smile turned plastic quickly. She looked down at her finger and fiddled with her rings.

“Yeah, it was… fun. I mean with these new characters, the stories go further and are truly more interesting. We truly did welcomed everybody with such open arms-”

You stopped the video and looked back at your brother who stood with his arms folded.

“That lying bitch” You gasp “Open arms? Open arms, seriously? She is one of the coldest people I know- she never even once during filming spoke to me, and then says she welcomed me with open arms?” you huff out pure anger as rolling your eyes passing the phone back to your brother. The rest of the cast did receive you with open arms. Everyone was really lovely, and you quickly became a part of the already tight knight family, but ever since the table reading back in October, Ruby has yet to speak or even present herself to you. She dodges you in corridors, leaves whenever you enter the room and once she even left early from training because of you.

“Just wanted to show it to you before you heard from the rest,” Jack shrugged. He then sat next to you on the couch, turned off his phone and threw it softly til the last cushion. You looked back at your brother with a soft smile. God, you were lucky enough to have him around. You truly didn’t know where you would be without him.

“Thanks” you says softly as you grabs the TV remote “Let’s watch something, i need to get that moment off my head”

“How about Star-” Jack begging to say

“I'm not watching Star Wars again” you cut off like always.

He laughs, rolling his eyes and grabs his drink from the center table. The two of you spent the day watching an X-men marathon, eating whatever was left in the fridge and pantry, just like when you were kids. It was not until noon, on the third film, when the silence was broken. Jack looked over at you and smiled sadly.

“I’m worried,” he confesses “Press tour stars tomorrow, and it’s supposed to be this amazing thing where you guys have fun and get to introduce the world to this new season but… i'm scared its gonna get ruined by Ruby’s stupid comments and bullshit”

You sigh knowing very well what he ment. Last week you got informed that you were sadly paired with Ruby for the interviews. Since you were a brand new character and never actually done a press tour for anything, the producers had decided to pair you with someone who already has experience with interviews, and apparently the universe thought that you and Ruby would make a great pair.

“I’ll survive” you says blankly shoving a cockie into your mouth “Plus, we are spending the day talking with other people, so i hope it won't be that bad”

“If anything happens you call me, okay?” He raises his hand and points up his pinky. This is some stupid thing you use to do when you were kids, but every now and then he would bring it back

“Promise” you link your pinkie with his and tightly squeeze them.

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

From the moment you woke up at 7 am, a heavy pressure chest seemed to be placed roughly. Started when you got out of bed and followed along to the moment you got into the tall building where the interviews were being made. Your very strict assistant, Lola, told you the plan for the day as they were shown the small break room, where you had to change and put on the interview outfit. It was a light blue and white dress that looked very 60s, some pearl earrings and a necklace that matched. Sometimes an outfit can change your entire mood, so once you were dressed up, you couldn’t help but feel just a bit better. Then the make up artist came in and started applying some soft natural makeup that consisted of blushy cheeks and a soft eyeliner. But even after that, there was still something tense and heavy on your chest that didn’t seem to want to leave you alone. You walked out of the break room, into the place where you would spend the next 7 hours answering questions. You wave hello to everyone on set as the man starts putting on the mic pack on you and checking if your makeup looks good under the lights. You then sat on the chair and took out your phone from the pocket on the dress to see a message from your brother, Jack.

Annoying older brother: Good luck!!

Annoying older brother: Remember our promise, call me if anything happens

You smile and just type back an eye rolling emoji as a response. You put down her phone once you felt someone sitting next to you, and softly reminded yourself where you were and the way you were supposed to behave. The silence took over the room as you left your phone under your leg. You looked over to your right to see Ruby. She looked nice. She was wearing an oversized red blouse and a white jacket, and her hair was messy.

“Hi” You greets softly with a small wave

Ruby looks at you, nods shortly and looks away.

You tried to take the response in a less personal way, looking away and trying to swallow the anxiety away. But once the young interviewer arrives, and Ruby literally stands up to shake his hand and greet him, it becomes more than personal to you. You stood up too, to shake his hands and greet him as he got ready for the interview. They haven’t even started and you were already fiddling with the hem of your dress nervously, like a child.

“Well Ruby, Y/n, I just want to thank you for giving us another season of Willow. We are truly excited to see not only the adventure you go on now, but the new characters as yourself y/n”

You just smiled and nodded in response.

“Now how does it feel to join such a magical and close family, how have they treated you?” The interviewer asked as he shuffled with his cards

What a perfect question.

“It's truly been a gift” you starts, your voice being slightly weak but you quickly clears your throat and begin again “I grew up huge George Lucas fan and honestly at first I was truly terrified of joining the cast and crew, but they really have received me with… open arms” Your words slightly bitter. You notice how Ruby looked at you from the side, clearly noticing your reference “It’s been such a dream come true, really”

The interviewer nodded and read the next card in hand “Now giving to much away, what can you tell us about this new season”

“Well” Ruby stars, with a hand on her jaw “There’s definitely a lot more action. Me and y/n actually have a lot of scenes together where we had so much fun! And the adventures this season are-”

You could hear Ruby speaking but it was like your mind just stopped listening

“...So much fun!”

Her voice ringed in your head again, as your thoughts ran crazy. You couldn't remember a single time you had “fun” with Ruby on set. Actually, you can clearly remember that every fight scene you had together was actually hell, since Ruby had past training and it seemed so easy for her to just pick up on choreography. Every time you got a move wrong or stumbled on the fight, Ruby would roll her eyes and sigh frustrated. Every single scene together was hell for both of them, and Ruby just said they had “So much fun”?

The anxiety in your chest started to slowly become fury, and the confusion of why would Ruby ever lie in an interview if not needed completely took over your thoughts. Your ears turned warm and you fisted her left hand, digging your white painted nail into your palm.

“Right Y/n?” Ruby looked at you and gave you a tight and clearly fake smile. It was obvious from the stare that you were supposed to follow along with her lie

“Yeah” you nod, trying to smile at the interviewer “So much… fun!”

The guy bought it clearly as he continued with his vague and irrelevant questions. As Ruby answered most of them, you just sat back, thinking about Ruby’s words. Every now and then you would nod your head, agree, or even let out a fake laugh, but never really truly talk much. The interviewer didn’t seem to mind, and so you just stayed silent.

“Maybe I wasn't gonna be as okay as I thought I was gonna be” You thought to herself as you fiddled with the ring on your finger. You wished you could be back in your apartment, with your brother, watching stupid movies and laughing like idiots at the simplest things.

“Last question before I leave,” the man announces as he looks at his watch, checking the time “Yesterday, we interviewed Tony and Erin and they told us of the wrapping party you guys had at your house, Ruby. Do you guys have any funny or just stupid memories of that night?”

You cluelessly, tilt your head and look at Ruby who laughs as she clearly knows what he’s talking about.

“Oh my god! The wrapping party was so much fun!” she claps her hands softly, as you stare completely clueless “So yeah, after almost a year of shooting the second season, I invited the cast and crew to the house i was renting, to have a kind of a goodbye party or something but…a funny memory? Oh yeah! We ordered pizza, but I'm talking about tons of pizza, and we made this… kind of tower? We stackled them up until we literally had to get on top of each other to put on the next, and that was honestly so much fun” she said “or when me, Dempsey, Amar and Tony did like a weird karaoke battle? That was fun too”

Something inside of you started to crack slowly. Your head spinning with bullet-like thoughts that seemed to kill every grasp from reality you held. A wrapping party? With cast and crew? With everybody? When was this? Why weren't you invited? Ruby said it was at the end of filming and that was 6 months ago, and you were finding about this now? And then it hit you like a truck. Of course you weren't invited. You were new. You barely knew the cast, got a year too late to the family, of course they were not gonna invite you. The anxiety inside your chest started to rise, stopping right at your throat.

“Tony mentioned it yesterday!” The man laughs “And you y/n?” he then asks you “any favorite memories of that night?”

Ruby turned to look at you and it felt like her gaze left you under pure pressure. It felt like her blue eyes were burned into your head and made the anxiety get even worse. Your fisted hand grew sweaty as you swallowed roughly.

“I-” the words wouldn’t come out but you just tried again doing your best to look as normal as possible “Yeah… The karaoke battle was crazy fun”

The man behind camera yelled cut, the interviewer then excused himself as in came the assessor to come touch up the makeup, outfits and mics. But before anyone could even get close to you, you marched quickly straight to the small break room where you got ready. You closed the door and ran to the desk filled with water bottles. You took one, twisted it open harshly and started chugging the cold water. You could feel it run down your body, but that didn’t seem to help. You took it off your mouth and breathed heavily and quickly, leaving the water bottle with the rest. The first thing that came into mind was texting your brother, so you looked around the room for your phone, moving the cushions and bags.

Three knocks came from the door and then someone just opened it. Ruby came in looking quite weirded out by the mess you were making. She closed the door, causing you to turn around to see Ruby staring at her.

“Ruby” you stammered “I- I thought you were-”

“The interviewer is late” she said coldly “They gave us a break”

“Yeah sorry, I was just looking for my pho-”

“I don’t care” she snapps back

You just nod and bite your lip harshly trying to push back any stupid emotions. You were an actress for god sake, why couldn’t you just fake your emotions. Why can’t you act as if Ruby’s word didn’t mean a single thing. It was so overwhelming that your face clearly started growing warm and Ruby clearly seemed to notice.

“What’s wrong?” She said as she left her purse on the couch, her voice sounded quite genuine instead of annoyed “why are you crying?”

You turns around towards the dresser with a mirror, to see the soft mascara running down your cheek

“Shit!” you swore under your breath, swiping the tear away leaving the black mascara smeared across your face “Shit! Lola gonna kill me” you then ran towards the small bathroom to grab some toilet paper and placed it under the water tab to start trying to clean it away. Your soft swipes turned harsh as the stain on her face didn’t want to leave. If Lola saw you like this, she would be pissed for screwing up her first ever interview “Fuck!”

“Heyheyhey'' Ruby said, grabbing your wrist and stopping the wet toilet paper from slapping your face. Her touch was probably meant to be sweet, but instead it came out quite harsh since her grip on your wrist was quite strong. "Water's not gonna work, it's probably waterproof, just…” Ruby let’s go of you to pushed her hair back with a sigh “Seat on the toilet, let me get some make up remover”

You let go of the wet toilet paper and left it on the sink. Then you sat down on the toilet seat, as tears started to fall down your face. You pushed your hands into your face, completely ashamed of yourself. Your first interview ever and you ended fucking crying in the bathroom

Ruby walked back into the room with a bottle of make up remover and cottons on her hand.

“Come on” she says coldly “We don’t know when the interviewer is arriving” She then kneels in front of you and starts to place some of the liquid on the cotton ball.

“Why did you say that?” You ask in between the tears. It was clear that Ruby was trying her hardest to look away, avoiding your gaze but before she even think of it, you spoke “Why did you say any of that when you know that shit isn’t fucking true”

“I-” she began

“What did I ever do to you?” Your voice broke while speaking. It felt like the anxiety inside of you gripped you tightly making it impossible to even let the words out

Ruby freezes and blinks a few times. She then leaves the bottle on the floor a bit too strongly as she looks back up at you with a frustrated sigh. Her frown is lowered and her looks became a deathly glare.

“Nothing” she says simply taking the cotton in her hand and move it close to your face

“Then why do you ignore me? Why do you always look at me like I'm a bother? Why didn’t you fucking invite me to the wrapping party?” You move your hand away from your face, trying to have a conversation

“Because…” she said before swallowing “Because i…” Her words never really leading anywhere

“Because what?! What Ruby?” The tears that once where on your cheeks where now running down your neck

Ruby shook her head and she stood up and dusted off her pants clearly bothered. She shook her head, her hair swishing perfectly.

“I can’t do this right now” she says walking out the small bathroom with an tired huff “I’m gonna get some air”

You stood up and followed behind her, your slingback heels clacking against the floor

“Ruby!” you call out frustrated “Answer me, please”

Ruby turned and it was clear she was mad, and it was written all over her face. On the way she pursed lips in disgust, in the way her eyebrows met harshly on top of her eyes, on the way cheeks were red and her eyes dead serious. On the way her chest was out proudly and her hands were fisted in the same way your’s were a few moments ago.

“Because…” she says, completely stone cold, and her head tilted to the side “Because you’re… fuck!” her fist raised and shaking in rage as tried to find her words

You took a careful step back, lower lip slightly quivering. Ruby didn’t have to say a word, because you knew, you knew what she meant. You knew everything. You were annoying, you are not part of the cast.

Ruby groaned as she ran her hand through the hair. Then she walked toward you, her steps firm and commanding, intimidating every bone in your body, making you walk backwards completely scared of what might happen now. You walked back to the small bathroom, till you hit the wall. You tried to press yourself against the wall as much as possible, closing your eyes and raising both of her hands, in defense.

Ruby was barely a few inches away, looking at you as you trembled nervously against the wall. Everything seems to be going from bad to worse, and it didn’t help the fact that you were shivering like a scared cat. The short haired girl sighed, placing both of her hands in her face, groaning loudly. You opened a single eye, to see your co-star. Ruby removed her hands from her face to look back at you, both of your eyes locked in. And it was then when you felt her warm lips on top of her. Ruby was grabbing your jaw as she pushed you back against the wall. You froze in place and did not reciprocate the kiss, even though something new inside you roared into life.

Ruby stopped and then separated your lip, to look up at you with your eyes wide open in fear. Ruby inhaled completely terrified as her face turned white.

“Oh my god” She whispered “I am so-”

Ruby interrupted when both of your arms wrapped around her, your chest and shaking lips against hers. At first it was really weird for you. Kissing a girl was different… new. Feeling something for a girl was… new. It took a few seconds for the two of you to melt into the kiss, softly placing your hands around each other, softly caressing and touching each other as much as they could. The kiss was salty with your tears, but sweet with Ruby’s cherry chapstick.

“Guys! The interviewer is here!” Lola yelled as she knocked loudly on the break room door. Her voice quickly made you freeze, stopping the kiss, and turning your once melted warm body to stiff and cold.

Ruby looked back at you, opening her eyes softly to find a single tear falling off of your face. It was like looking at a wax figure. pale and completely frozen in place. The knocks kept pounding against the door so the short girl ran towards it and told Lola they are just talking some stuff and that they will be right back out. You, who snapped back from the pure fear of someone finding you with a girl, reacted and quickly picked up the cotton with makeup remover and wiped it hard against your cheeks.

You were just kissed. By Ruby. Ruby who ignored you for months, Ruby who can’t stand you. Ruby who is… a girl. A girl just kissed you. You kissed a girl. What’s that supposed to mean? Are you gay now? Did you like girls? What about boys? What if someone found out about this? What if her parents found out about her kissing a girl? What if they hated her?

What if Jack hated her?

Before your anxieties turned into catastrophic realities, Ruby came back to the bathroom and stood closely to you. She softly placed her hands on your jaw and moved your face till you were facing her, and no longer the mirror. She took the cotton from your fingertips hand and started swiping it on your cheek and under eye softly, petting and cleaning the black ink from your face. To say you were confused, was to say the least. When you arrived at the building, you swore that Ruby hated you like no one else in the world, but now, she was treating you like one would treat their romantic partner. It didn’t make sense, the sudden change but neither did the strong beating of your heart. By having Ruby’s warm and gentle hand on your jaw, cupping your face carefully and tenderly, it made your heart naturally calm down and made you head grow fuzzy. The soft brush of the cotton in her only made you gaze into an even more peaceful state.

“Done” Ruby said letting go of your face and throwing away the cotton ball “Let’s go”

You wake up from the cold air hitting your cheek and you quickly step back to create some distance between the two of you. You swiped your nose with the back of your hands and looked at the floor nervously. Ruby opened her voice to speak, but you quickly ran out the bathroom and the break room to where a young woman was sitting waiting for you guys. You go to sit on your chair, to find your phone, which you quickly grabbed and texted Jack

Snarky little sister: Hey

Snarky little sister: U were right

Snarky little sister: Can you come pick me up? plz?

Snarky little sister: I really don’t need a car ride back with her

Snarky little sister: i finish a 6

You sent your location and turned off your phone and shoved it under your leg like before. At least you weren’t crying anymore, and with the bit of makeup the assessor just applied, made you now look decent.

The rest of the day was a blur. It was interviews after interview. The same questions being asked over and over. Eventually there was a lunch break where you decided to lock yourself in the bathroom and eat your lunch on your own to drown out the confusing feeling bubbling inside of you. Ruby knocked a few times and tried to talk to you, but you couldn’t even process her words. Every time she tried to talk to you, you would walk away or tried to mutter a “not now” under your breath. These new feelings and emotions felt like bricks under you. The possible reaction from your family made you tremble with pure fear. And the questions the journalist asked her over and over again just made her look like a broken record, repeating over and over the same phrase.

After 6 hours in the same room, you were finally able to leave. Lola tried to talk to you, her tone scary and stern as she scolded you, but you just grabbed your bag and left for the elevator. Even though everything you were wearing wasn't technically yours, you couldn’t bother to change, you couldn’t bear another second in that room with Ruby and with all of those people with their eyes on you. So you just left. Once in the lobby, you saw a text from jack.

Annoying older brother: I'm a few blocks away, wait for me inside

And so you did. You waited in the lobby, tapping your shows anxiously against the marble floor, making it echo around the room. There was a ding from behind you, and you see Ruby, in different clothes, walking quickly up to you. Your airways seemed to close as you turned around and started walking even faster away from her.

“Y/n!” Lola screamed “the car hasn't arrived yet, where are you going?” she looked up from her phone, shaking her disappointment “The chauffeur is 5 minutes away!”

You turned around, walking back carefully not to trip. You tried your best no to meet Ruby’s eye as you simply shook your head.

“Jack came to pick me up” you yell loud enough for everyone to hear, but it was clear that your voice was weak and on the edge of cracking “I’m leaving with him, i'll text you when i get home”

Then Ruby started walking faster and calling you names, to catch up with you, but you left the building and made yourself to the street. You then saw your brother's blue jeep and you quickly jumped in and left. On the rearview mirror you could see Ruby staring back at you, as the car took off quickly, her figure became smaller til she was barely visible.

Jack quickly placed his hand on your knee, and the touch on itself was enough to make you burst into tears once again. You cover your mouth in disappointment of your previous actions. Your sobs soon got louder than the radio, completely drowning all the noise around them. The fingertips on your mouth shaking as you could softly still taste Ruby’s stupid cherry chapstick.

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

#ruby cruz #ruby cruz x reader #ruby cruz bottoms #ruby Cruz fanfic #ruby Cruz angst #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #willow 2022 #kit tanthalos #kit tanthalos x reader #tanthamore #my writting #ruby jean cruz

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emeline2020 · 1 year ago

Text

Everywhere, Everything - D.DIXON

DESC : You and Daryl, who have known each other since the start finally reunite in the Commonwealth after months apart.

CONTAINS : pure fluff, literally just fluf

SEASON 11

After months of what the Commonwealth soldiers called, ‘re-processing’ aka, tedious, unnecessary bullshit, you finally were given some hospitality in the town. An apartment of your own, which you hadn’t had at Hilltop. The privacy was a nice change, but right now you just really wanted to see your friends; your family.

You were informed slightly about all of the others from the Communites that had arrived before you. People that you had seen not that long ago at Hilltop, and some that you hadn’t seen in a little less than a year from Alexandria. A certain person in specific from Alexandria, that you missed horribly.

You settled your belongings in the small apartment, before heading down into the center of town. It was busy and bustling with all kinds of people. It reminded you so much of before the outbreak.

It took you embarrasingly long to realize it was Halloween day. Kids were running around, dressed up in little costumes carrying pumpkin heads or little bags filled with sweets and candy.

You continued walking around, taking in all of the little shops set up with games and things for the kids to enjoy. And that was when you spotted him. Daryl Dixon, swinging something on a string to your nephew, RJ.

You paused, staring as people moved around you, laughing and talking. He was smiling, laughing at the little boy in front of him.

The earth felt like it had stopped, because out of everyone you wanted to see, Daryl Dixon was at the top of your list. And now he was stood a little over 20 feet away.

You slowly approached him, a big grin on your face as you weaved through the crowds. RJ grinned as he saw you come closer, nodding to his uncle to turn around.

Daryl raised an eyebrow at his nephew, but turned and saw you stood in front of him. His eyes practically lit up, widening.

“Holy shit.” He murmured, leaning down slightly to quickly wrap his arms around your lower torso, lifting you up and pulling you into his body.

You giggled as your feet left the ground, smiling and wrapping your arms around his neck. You could feel the ends of his brown hair tickling your forearms. The feeling of his calloused hands wrapped around your lower back, one hand resting on each side of your hip sent butterflies to your stomache.

“Hi, Dixon.” You laughed over his shoulder. He spun you once, before carefully lowering you back onto your feet.

“Fuck, where’ve ya been? They didn’t hurt ya or nothin’, right?” He asked, his tone shifting from excitement to concern, as he released your waist and scanned your figure, his rough hands resting on the sides of your face and curving to fit on your jaw.

You laughed, your hands holding onto his wrists and giving them a gentle squeeze, “I’m good. Just got a bit caught in all that reprocessing shit.” You explain, nodding at him reassuringly.

He grinned at your response, nodding and pulling your head down and closer to place a kiss on the crown of your head. After he kissed your head, you just looked at each other for a few seconds, before RJ came running over, crashing into your ribs.

“Hey Junior. How ya been?” You smiled, sending Daryl a happy glance as you held your nephew.

“I’ve been okay.” He responded calmly, shrugging his shoulders a bit as he hugged you. He had gotten a lot taller since you last saw him.

“Okay?” You asked, raising an eyebrow with mock concern. RJ pulled away from you, nodding with another shrug, “Uncle Daryl’s not a good cook.” He explained. Daryl sent his nephew a look.

“Stop.” Daryl said to the boy, giving him a slight nudge. You snorted, smiling at the two.

“And he snores real loud.” RJ added on, Daryl made a humming noise, interrupting his nephew. Of course, you already knew Daryl snored from previous.. sleepovers with the man.

“Okay, ‘nough. Go play with Ezra.” Daryl said, pointing to Jerry’s band of kids jumping around on hay. Daryl give him a nudge in that direction. RJ turned, sticking his tongue at his uncle before heading over to join the other kids.

“Bad cook, huh?” You asked with a teasing tone, tilting your head and raising an eyebrow.

He scoffed, “Kids makin’ shit up.”

#Spotify #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon imagine #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon x reader

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clockwayswrites · 1 year ago

Text

Catching Cold, Part 3

WC: 1061, Masterpost

CW: Past vivisection, general discussion of wounds, bad parents Jack and Maddie

The duffel bag had a full med kit in it.

Danny was grateful for it, beyond grateful, but why did the bag have a full med kit in it? Why did Danny know where the bag was? Why did it have clothing that fit him and extra shoes and a wad of cash? Danny stuffed the cash back into the sock he had found it in and opened the med kit.

It was very, very well stocked. He was past when he should change his bandages, really. His chest pulled as he peeled off his shirt and he bit back a noise at the pain. Maybe sitting in the truck the whole day hadn’t been the best for him. His bandages looked clean at least, no seepage.

He had just gotten the wrappings off and was gently cleaning the wound when there was a knock at the door.

“You in there, kid?” It was Midge, the driver Danny had been riding with.

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in? Got some stuff for you.”

“Um, sure.”

The door opened and Midge froze at the threshold. “Jesus, kid. Who the fuck did that to you?”

Danny stared at his chest in the mirror. It really did look gruesome, he supposed, reddened skin still stitched together, cut in a y from collar bone to sternum and down the center of his chest. Everything around it looked like one massive bruise.

“I had to have surgery,” Danny mumbled.

“Yeah? What for?” Midge asked, edging a little closer, like Danny was some wounded animal.

Maybe he was.

He felt like one.

He shook his head. “Sorry, what?”

“What was the surgery for, kid?”

Danny opened his mouth then slowly closed it. He… It… his brows furrowed. He shook his head. “I don’t know. It happened suddenly. My parent said we’d talk about it when I was better.”

“The doctor didn’t explain?”

He shrugged. It pulled at the wound. “I don’t remember a hospital.” Was that weird? That was weird. “I went to sleep at home and woke up about a week later back in my bed.”

Midge didn’t say anything, just watched Danny’s reflection with their expressive brown eyes. Finally they gave a decisive little nod. “Okay, kid. I got you some shampoo, soap, and deodorant. The showers are through that door. You got a change of clothing?”

Danny nodded.

“Okay. I don’t have room in my cab for you to sleep, but Kenny is in the stop too and Paul isn’t with him, so he’s got room for you on a bunk in his cab. You want to head out with me when I leave?”

“You’ll let me?” Danny blurted out, too surprised by the offer to just accepted.

Midge’s eyes softened. “Yeah, ‘course. You said wherever I was going and my haul isn’t done yet. If you want to go with me, seat’s still yours.” They set the small bottle of shampoo, bar of soap, and tube of deodorant on the top of his duffel bag.

Danny stared at the little collection of items and had to blink back tears. “I, yeah. Thanks.”

“Okay. Clean up. I’ll meet you in the diner part of this joint in fifteen or so.”

“Thanks, Midge.”

“Sure kid.”

It took Danny a good few minutes just to gather himself enough to head into the shower room to quickly clean off. As he re-bandaged his chest with too practiced hands, his mind spun.

He didn’t remember a hospital, not for a single moment.

His parents were keeping something from him.

The stitches were in the same neat rows that his mother used to use stitch up his broken stuffed animals with.

Danny rushed to the toilet and threw up what little was in his stomach.

What had they done to him?

Midge was sitting in one of the peeling linoleum booths, looking freshly showered and talking to another driver. Danny tugged on the edge of his hoodie as their eyes turned to him.

“Kid, over here.”

Danny shuffled over. He sat down across from midge, tucking the duffel bag next to him. He’d stuffed what could be useful from his backpack into it and thrown away the rest. He wouldn’t need that chemistry textbook anymore.

“Kid, this is Kenny. Kenny, the kid,” Midge said with a little wave between them.

“Nice to meet you, Kid,” Kenny said like it was Danny’s name. He had a big busy beard that was going grey around the edges and a kind smile. “Guess you’re bunking with me tonight.”

“Yeah, thanks for letting me…”

“No issue. Normally my man Paul rides with me, but he’s helping his sister move this week,” Kenny said. “So dropped him off in the last city and I’ll try to find a job to get back to him soon enough. They could use the time though if it takes a bit.”

“Kenny is a talker,” Midge said. Midge very much wasn’t a talker. “What do you want to eat, kid?”

“I, um, not really hungry,” Danny said. His belly flip-flopped uneasily at just the thought of food.

“They do oatmeal. How about some oatmeal?” Kenny suggested.

Oatmeal… could work. Danny gave a silted little nod.

“Great! I’ll put in an order then go get cleaned up. They’ll call for it right over there when it’s ready,” Kenny said, motioning with one of his large hands as he stood and headed off before Danny could protest Kenny paying for him.

“Kenny is a good man, so’s Paul. Them and me and others, we have this group. We look out for each other at stops and on the road. We don’t let anyone cause any shit for any of the others of us. See, we ain’t the most typical folks. Kenny and Paul are married, been together ages before that. I don’t much care about gender, mine or others. We’ve got drivers who used to be one thing an’ are now another. We’ve all found our place on the road,” Midge said. It was the most Danny had heard them talk. “If you don’t have an issue with any of that and need to stay moving, we can see you safe. Just gotta help out when asked.”

Danny’s fingers knotted in his hoodie. He had to clear his throat. “I can do that.”

“Okay. Then welcome to the Rainbow Road, Kid.”

-----

AN: Danny's going on a journey! Whether he wants it or not. At least he found a group willing to fiercely protect a hurt kid. He's not the first one they helped out, even if his wounds are a new level of fucked up from what they're used to.

I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the masterpost.

#trauma tuesday #that's a thing apparently now lol #join me for it if you want #dp x dc #catching cold

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creatingblackcharacters · 2 months ago

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Hi Ice! This one is maybe a little on the outskirts of 'creating Black characters', but it is related to the introspective questions you posted a little while back, so I thought I'd ask for your opinion. I'm sure this isn't an one-easy-answer thing, so I'd love to hear from any other Black people reading this as well!

I'll try to keep it short.

I'm seven years and 300k+ words deep in a fanfiction about anthropomorphic animal characters, and your introspective questions made me face the fact that I've been the ignorant fandom racist. I wrote my main character as white. Now, 7 years later, I stumble over a post pointing out ... those are locs

I don't know if the authors intended for this character to be Black (nonblack voice actors, supplementary material also clearly doesn't draw him this way, though that stuff was all over the place re: consistency) and I frankly also am not sure if they Should have, given his role in the narrative, but a) that's not really up to me to speak on and b) he's got locs and mostly black fur and was inspired by Anubis. I've been whitewashing, there's no way around it.

I briefly considered going back and just straight up changing the story to make him Black, but I quickly realized that I have been writing him from a white-centered narrative and just slotting a Black character into that would arguably be Worse. Or at least racist in a brand new way. I can change how he takes care of his hair, but not the themes on which the entire narrative is built upon. I've been writing about a white man and I can't just pretend I haven't.

So my question to you is ... what now? How do I best acknowledge this? Do I just quietly come to terms with the fact that this story is racist and do better next time? I would like to acknowledge it in some way, I have a small but loyal audience and if I could use that platform to start a conversation (or just put out a 'hey, don't be like me') that would ... maybe at least be better than nothing? Possibly?

I know there's not a simple solution here that will Fix It, but I thought I'd ask an actual Black person who's open to educating what might be a good next move. Maybe avoid making another, new White Person Blunder. Here's to hoping.

I really appreciate all you do, your blog rocks and so do you.

Is that Shadow?

Okay, so I had to have a conversation with Hot Chocolate on this one because this one's a doozy! I appreciate that you're willing to stop and reflect though. Most people wouldn't be willing to do so this far in!

Admittedly, the fact that you're seven years into this means this will require a lot of effort. And, tbh, I might be confused bc I cannot tell what that character is 😅 So! After some thought, here's what we came up with:

Take a hiatus. Point blank period. Take a BREAK, do not pass go, do not collect $200! Idk what lore you've written, but you've written a lot of it. Take as long as you need to reread your works, and see if at any point you ever made it clear that this was a white person, or anything other than the Black character you now think they should be. If it feels undefined, where you can turn "hair" into "locs" or add in small details, then that could be your smooth way out. It doesn't have to be massive changes, but it could help. It'll take you time, for sure! But you dug seven years in, it's gone take you time to dig out. Maybe if you skim 15k words a week (or ctrl-F it for hair, for examples), that's... 20 weeks? Go at your own pace, faster or slower.

Unfortunately this happens a lot, where influences for characters will be taken from cultures of colors and improperly represented (the "African" god from Genshin). That's just a fact. So I don't necessarily blame you for the confusion, but... Now you know.

If possible, get a sensitivity reader! Preferably a Black one. Ngl, given the massive amount of work, you're likely going to have to pay them. Maybe give them half and you take half. Idk, but let another pair of eyes look at your work. Or maybe there's a Black reader that you could speak to and see how they feel about the potential change.

Should you choose to keep going, just try to be more purposeful and intentional about that character's Blackness. Definitely tell your readers what you figured out, why it's important to you, and then move forward from there.

Now, RECOGNIZE that many of them will NOT be pleased! That's kind of the thing about opening your eyes when it comes to racism in media! A lot of people will NOT be happy that you decided to be more intentional, especially if they've been imagining their favorite white guy for seven years. You're going to have to weigh your integrity and your will to create against that. People might leave, people that you thought were cool AF until it was time to show true colors. Be ready for that.

But that's just what I would do 🤷🏾‍♀️

#creatingblackcharacters #thatsjusttips

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miss-tc-nova · 6 months ago

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Big Kitty and the Ducks - Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Going for a straightforward title today.

Anyway, a couple months ago, when I visited my family, someone brought miniature ducks and hid them everywhere, so my brother and I had fun finding and re-hiding them. It got kinda silly but that's the inspiration for this nonsense.

Premise: Ducks are infesting the school and Leona's not thrilled

Words: 1,314

~~~~~

Duck.

Duck…

…Duck

…

Duck.

Goddammit.

Huffing, the lion turns his gaze away from the front of the class to the windowsill. It takes all of a single second to spot the little round body and bright orange beak basking in the sunlight.

Duck.

What the fuck?!

There’s been a wild phenomenon emerging at Night Raven College in the form of water fowls the size of marbles. These miniscule birds have been popping up literally everywhere. Light switch: duck. Commons potted plant: duck. Potion vial: duck. Spelldrive goal: duck. Ceiling: duck. Duck duck duck! Hell, he even found a duck in the soap dispenser in the bathroom.

And the whole damn school was fascinated.

It started out with a handful of birds being found around the campus. Students laughed and collected them, but then more appeared the following day and then the next. Soon, it became a whole thing that ducks found were to be documented on magicam and relocated to another, equally ridiculous location.

Yet while the rest of the school seemed fascinated by their sudden arrival, Leona is getting sick of seeing the little, yellow demons. Even his usually blunt, brutish dorm were enjoying the duck hunt. He can’t even begin to count the number he’s spotted in his dorm alone and it’s annoying.

“Yo, Leona.”

As class lets out, Leona finds his gold-digging hyena waiting for him in the cafeteria. The underclassman places a tray on a table, having already obtained the lion’s lunch for him.

“How’d history go? Get a decent grade on that exam?”

A fork stabs at the cut of beef. “If yer looking for next year’s answers, forget it. Trein didn’t let us keep the graded copies.”

“Damn,” he sighs. “I didn’t really expect the exams to be the same, but an old exam would’ve been good study material.”

“Sounds like more hassle collecting old assignments than just doing the work.”

“You’d be surprised. Some of your second-year assignments are the exact same as this year’s.” The sophomore’s smug demeanor turns suddenly distracted. “Oh look, a duck!”

With a toothy grin, Ruggie plucks the trinket from the table center piece. As he does, he apparently notices Leona’s annoyance and offers his finding.

“What? You wanna take ‘im?”

“Get that stupid thing away from me,” Leona growls back.

“Ooo, spicy. Shishishishi.” He earns a glare. “I figured you wouldn’t be into it, but I didn’t think you’d care enough to hate it.”

There’s a pause. Then another laugh escapes the younger student.

“Especially for a guy who has one in his hair.”

Leona’s eyes widen, his mouth pursing to contain the shock and fury. He’s lying—Ruggie must be lying.

With that devious smirk, the second year gently tugs at one of his housewarden’s braids. There, wrapped into his hair with his hairtie, is one of those stupid, yellow, unassuming, miniature, goddamn ducks.

Exhaling all his indignant fury, Leona rises. Not another word leaves his clenched jaw as he promptly leaves, ignoring all questions. From the cafeteria the lion stalks, in search of the one single individual who could’ve done this. Other students quickly clock in to the dark aura and provide a wide berth on his path. His rage leads Leona from the main building of the college down to the little rundown dorm tucked neatly in the shadows of the castle. A swift kick slams open the front door but no one is there to greet him. At least not until half of the dorm’s residents come rushing in from the kitchen.

“Leona? What’s wrong?”

“C’mere,” he demands, closing the gap himself.

The Ramshackle prefect goes tense at his quick approach. A hasty hand takes hold of that adorable face, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of the cheeks.

Low, dark, Leona’s voice rumbles. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

The response is somewhat muffled. “Huh?”

“You did this—you started this stupid duck thing, didn’t you.”

Recognition sparks. “How did you find out?”

Eyes narrowing, Leona shows the figure wrapped up in his hair. A smile works across warped lips. Despite Leona’s ire, the prefect giggles, thoroughly pleased with the ordeal.

“Where the hell did you even get that many ducks?” he snaps, not even bothering to ask why this whole thing even started to begin with.

“Sam.”

Of course it was Sam.

“You menace.” With a growl, Leona pushes the magicless student back a step. “Now fix it.”

Eyes roll, smile still intact, while the student motions towards the sofa. The grumpy lion flops onto the couch, his head falling into the lap of the offender, as had occurred some few times before.

Fingers play with the end of the braid. “I wondered when you would notice.”

Huffing, Leona elects not to engage in this line of conversation.

“It’s only been there a week.”

Eyes snap open, his body goes rigid, lips purse, and ears flatten. There’s no way he went a whole week with this damn bird tied into his hair, mocking his disdain for the frivolity. That giggle burns in his ears for more reasons than one.

“I found this giant bag of little ducks at Sam’s a couple weeks ago. At first, I was just using them to bug the other first years, but I didn’t expect the whole school to get in on it. You should’ve seen Sebek’s face when he found one stuck to Hornton’s horn. Of course, I asked first and he was happy to be part of the fun, but man was Sebek mad. And Ace freaking biffed it when he spotted the one I stuck to the basketball hoop. That was funny. And—”

As the prefect prattles on about misadventures, Leona feels all the tension seeping from his muscles. Yes, the ducks were still stupid and, yes, they infested the school like locusts, but it was harmless after all.

And it made the prefect happy.

“And oh my gosh, I think it was Jade who managed to put one on Crowley’s hat! It’s been there for like a month and—”

“Hey.”

Leona’s interruption silences the freshman.

“You done yet?”

“Oh, one sec.” The end of the braid is tied with the golden tie. “There.”

Before he can sit up, the prefect reaches down, placing the damned bird on his chest, staring him down with its stupid, unblinking eyes. Sneering, Leona swats the plastic from his shirt and sits up. It clatters across the floor, making its way somewhere beneath the coffee table.

“Aww. Oh well. Guess Grim will get to find that one.”

Leona’s nose scrunches at some pungent scent wafting in. “What’re you burning?”

“THE COOKIES!”

The prefect could almost apply for the track and field club for the speed used to rush back to the kitchen.

Now on his own, Leona simply sits in the Ramshackle commons, his thoughts slowly wandering beneath the table. A string of curses slips his lips as he gets to the floor, feeling around under the table until he finds the figure. He scrutinizes the trinket in his fingers before his gaze begins scouring the room. The chandelier finally holds his gaze long enough for a quirk to tug at the corner of his mouth.

With a steady hand and careful concentration, the flightless bird levitates its way to its new nest on the light fixture. Surely, it’ll be weeks before anyone finds it there.

The lion’s admiration is snapped by the return of the prefect.

“Good news! I saved them!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be having lunch?”

“Hey, do you want a cookie or not?”

A brow quirks but Leona accepts a treat from the offered plate. “Might as well. It’s your fault I’m missing lunch.”

“Huh?”

“Nothin’.” Turning on heel, he heads for the door.

“Wait! What did you say?!”

His back to the prefect, Leona smirks to himself.

“That furball’s never gonna find that duck.”

~~~~~

Just some pics of our fun we had

~~~~~

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

#gender neutral reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #hid one on the dog #he kept it safe for two weeks

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lanormie · 1 month ago

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blipped - mcu crossover au (pt. 6)

what if? the event of Thanos snap happened in the BNHA universe? you're forced to navigate the aftermath of The Blip, where half of the population get thrown back into existence after disappearing for five years. pairing: pro-hero!Shouto x f!pro-hero!reader (ft. slight katsuki x reader) read on AO3 previous part

Two months flew by, and the apartment search is going nowhere. The government has quickly seized up a large number of empty housings and facilities to turn them into temporary shelters, and now any new listing would immediately get scooped up as soon as they are posted, no matter the cost. Not like you or Shouto have time to stalk the market anyway, when crimes have been on a scary uptick for the past few weeks. Hawks has been apologetic about all the overtime, but you all know the world is far from peaceful.

An anti-nationalist group called The Flag Smashers has been on the rise. They’ve been gaining more and more followers everyday, vowing to restore the world order to how it was before the re-emergence.

A world without borders and patriotism. Even as a pro-hero, you can’t say you disagree. But when the line between ideology and violence blurs and innocent people get hurt, you refuse to stand by.

“Here’s the address of the juvenile shelter on 42nd, please tell Mandalay I said hi when you drop him off.”

You hand the piece of paper to the sidekick who just showed up for the night shift, then turn to the small frame that’s clinging to your belt like super glue, tiny hiccups escaping from behind the mop of unruly hair that conceals most of his face.

Even though you can’t make out his features, you can tell he’s just a kid. A kid who had no family left when he returned, a kid who met the wrong people and got swept up in doing the wrong things. He was a lookout for a store break-in when you finally intercepted the group, and the grown men he was with had no problem turning him into a bargaining chip.

Nothing you haven’t seen before, sadly.

The standoff ended pretty quickly, with the men hauled off to the authorities. Your decision of keeping the little one from getting sent to the youth detention center thankfully didn’t encounter much resistance.

Everybody is too busy to care.

You send him off with a promise to visit once you find time, then take off towards the agency, the short conversation you had with him playing in your head like a record.

“Miss," The little guy meekly muttered in between sniffles. “When will things go back to normal?”

When?

Will they go back to normal?

“I don’t have the answer to that, I’m sorry. But in the meantime we can make the best of our new normal.” You emphasized the last part, but for him or for you, you didn’t know.

And you still don’t. If making the best of your new normal is working yourself to the brink of collapsing then do it all over again the next day, you’re doing great.

As the agency rooftop comes into view, you glance at the clock on your phone. It’s 3:30 AM. Looks like the sleeping bag under your desk is your friend again tonight.

There’s a warm light coming from the small covered patio on one side of the rooftop, and your eyes zone in on the figure sprawled out on the hammock, an open book resting on top of their face. Red and white locks peek out from under the book, or more accurately, the manga volume, now that you’re closer to see it. Broad chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, the arms resting on it coming along for the ride. You chuckle to yourself as you land. Shouto really does sleep like a mummy.

You lightly tap on the manga volume before lifting a corner of it. “You didn’t go home?”

Shouto squints at you sleepily. “I just finished the report–” He pauses to yawn. “Report backlog. And we have a shift at 7, so I figured it wasn’t worth it. Plus,” He picks up the manga and tosses it onto the coffee table nearby. “This is surprisingly comfortable. Here, try it out.”

Shouto slightly scoots over and stretches out the fabric to make space.

You should’ve known how much of an ordeal it is to get into a hammock with another person already in it. It takes a lot of maneuvering not to fall directly on top of your friend, but in the end you still end up smushed against Shouto’s left side. Despite that, he was right, this is terribly comfy.

The stretchy fabric cocoons you in like a swaddle, the cool night breeze gently caresses your skin, which you don’t mind too much cause the heat emanating from Shouto is more than enough to ward off the chills.

“Ten out of ten.” You conclude, eyelids growing heavier. Maybe all that overtime is catching up to you.

* * * * *

“But they look so cute!”

“I don’t give a shit, they’re about to be late.”

The sound of aggressive whispers pulls you away from your dreamless slumber.

Daylight greets you through your eyelids, as you register a certain weight draped over your side and some humid warm breeze fanning your forehead. Your bleary eyes open to find yourself face to face with a white T-shirt covered broad chest, and it dawns on you. You and Shouto both fell asleep on the hammock last night.

Groggily tilting your head up, you find Shouto already awake. His dual colored eyes are focused elsewhere, indicating that he’s listening in on the whispering match happening behind him.

“I’m going to wake them up.”

“Wait, Touya no!”

The hushed tone does nothing to hide the very distinct voices of Hawks and Touya, clearly being at odds (as usual) about letting their employees snooze on premise.

Shouto finally notices your stirring, and the cool arm that was lazily resting on your side curls in ever so slightly.

“Wait.” He speaks, voice low enough for only you to hear. “I want to see if we stay still, they're going to let us sleep in.”

Soft as his murmuring is, it still reverberates through his chest and onto you, and you try your hardest not to squirm at the proximity. In your still-freshly-out-of-a-relationship brain, hugs are different from cuddles. Not that you’d ever shy away from your best friend who mostly shows his affection through non-verbal cues (the majority of them is touch), cuddling with someone who’s not your boyf–, well, ex-boyfriend, is some sort of line you haven’t brought yourself to cross.

It’s a sort of intimacy that you didn’t know you longed for until this very moment, but god if it isn’t intimidating at the same time. Like standing in the sand staring out at the azure of the ocean, its calm waves gently ebbing and flowing around your feet, urging you to follow them into the depth.

Should you let them lead you further into its water, when you know what drowning in a stormy sea feels like?

You look up at Shouto, and find the ocean staring back at you from his left eye.

Its serene surface seems to glitter under the cloudless sky, featherlight breeze nudging its ripples ashore.

It’s so, so different from the crashing ocean of molten lava you used to call home.

‘You okay?’ Shouto mouths the words, puzzled by the way your eyes are trained on him but your mind is clearly elsewhere. His hand presses gently on your back, his thumb patiently draws small circles atop your spine, letting you take your time coming down from whatever plane of existence you find yourself on.

The world comes back into focus as you mutter an unconvincing ‘yeah’. As Shouto searches your face for the real answer, the bickering between Hawks and Touya is getting louder.

“Look how cozy they are!”

“Oh yeah? Cozy huh?” Touya then amps up his volume, like he really wants you two to hear this last part. “Cozy on the same hammock you got a blowjob on last week?”

You’ve never flown away from anything so fast.

Looking down, you catch a glimpse of Shouto scrambling off the apparently tainted fabric with a huffed ‘nope’, before you both turn towards Touya, who’s now doubling over in laughter, one arm holding on to a mortified Hawks and the other clutching his stomach.

“For the record,” Hawks exasperatedly yanks Touya’s collar like a momma cat to set the silver haired man upright. “He was just saying that to get a reaction out of you.”

“You knew we were awake the whole time?” You land back down in front of the two intruders.

“Uh, yeah. Birdy didn’t have these for nothing.” Touya reaches back to pluck a wonky looking feather out of Hawks’ wings and waves it in your face.

You can see Hawks visibly fights back a shudder. For a former spy, he sure seems to lose the grip on his reactions a lot when it comes to Touya. You decide to file the thought away to investigate later.

“Why were you two brats canoodling up here anyway?”

You sputter a barely audible ‘were not’ while Shouto finally approaches you three.

“We came off our shifts late last night. Going home would take too long.”

“It’s not the first time we’ve slept over at work.” You shrug, with a concurring nod from Shouto. “I’ll stick to my sleeping bag next time though, the blowjob hammock–”

“It’s not–” Hawks starts to protest.

“The Schrodinger blowjob hammock is all yours.” You cut him off, not entirely convinced by either of them.

“No luck on the apartment hunt?” Touya finally pipes down once you’ve mentioned your sleeping bag. He disguises it well, but some remnants of concern still slip through in his voice.

“Not in this area.” Shouto shakes his head.

“Not even studios? I mean by the look of it y’all have no problem sharing a bed.” Touya smirks, his teasing lilt creeping back in.

“Touya, can you not?” You frown, warning him to knock it off.

A faint wave of heat hits your side for a brief second before disappearing completely. You turn toward it but you’re met with nothing, just Shouto scratching lightly at his left arm. The poor guy must’ve got some bug bites last night.

“Hey, Touya…” Hawks quietly calls out to the blue flame user.

Touya turns to look at the winged man and seems to immediately recognize the look in his eyes. They proceed to have a back and forth exclusively through eye contact and unreadable facial expressions for about a minute long before Touya rolls his eyes and concedes.

He grumbles something about the blond's ‘bleeding heart’ then gestures to his feathered roommate(?) to go ahead, to which Hawks mouths a quick ‘thank you’ before turning to you and Shouto.

“You guys can come live with us while you look!” He chirps a little too excitedly, before reeling it back. “If you want to, of course. We have a spare bedroom and an office that we rarely use, and it’s only five minutes from here.”

Five minutes of commute is a dream. You’d be sad to part with Fuyumi’s cooking, but some extra hours of sleep every night sounds downright heavenly. You’d be foolish to refuse.

You look over to Shouto. “I’m down, you?”

“Likewise.” He nods, mind already made up since the moment you perked up at Hawks’ offer.

“Well, you’d better be.” Touya looks up from his phone. “Cause I already told my assistant to print some spare keys.”

* * * * *

Patrol is surprisingly slow today. Even evil is somewhat thwarted by inclement weather, you think. The rain spell has been unkind, thunder haunting the heavy grey sky above. You opt to walk, not taking the chance with the stray bolts that stretch the heavens every few minutes or so. You’ve been zapped by Denki before, while he was doing a Thor bit, and you’re not in a rush to experience it again.

The hood of your costume is waterproof, but it doesn’t help much since the frigid and earthy droplets of rain are coming from all directions, hitting your face like toy gun pellets and leaving a sheen of dripping water on your hair.

Step by soggy step, you trudge through the unusually barren streets. There’s only two minutes left on the clock when you hear the sound of water rushing gets louder and louder. You press forward, until you literally can’t hear anything else.

The man made waterfall at the entrance of the Memorial Park greets you, in all its deafening glory. You heard it was supposed to represent the flow of time as people move forward, or something like that. The flow of time seems obscenely intrusive, you think.

You head into the park, and you realize this is the first time you’ve stepped foot in here. Usually you would observe it from above, the long rows of dark granite looking like dots as you pass by. But now that you’re here, the maze of stone columns dwarf you, standing at least eight feet high. Rows and rows of letters are etched onto them, spelling out what must be millions of names in alphabetical order.

Names of those who disappeared during the Blip.

You carefully scale the letters, searching. People must have started coming here and crossing their name out, as you find multiple names with different levels of chicken scratch lines over them. Withering bouquets lay along the path, water pooling on their plastic wrapping.

All of the sudden, the rain stops pelting you, as the shadow of an umbrella appears above your head. Turning to find its owner, you come face to face with a pair of crimson eyes.

“It’s over there.” He tilts his head toward the north side of the park, and starts walking. You wordlessly follow.

You fall into steps with the man you’ve been trying to avoid for the past couple of months, and you mentally clutch your wound, praying it doesn’t reopen.

Katsuki is wearing civilian clothes, simple joggers and a plain tee shirt and some rain boots. On the hand he’s holding the umbrella with, a silver band decorates his ring finger. You have to physically tear your eyes from the sight.

He traverses the maze of stone like a seasoned navigator, knowing exactly where to turn and how many steps to take. Soon enough, you both stop in front of what you’re looking for.

It doesn’t take you long to find your name. It’s at eye level, and you feel like it’s staring right back at you. Katsuki too, is peering at you through the faint reflection on the stone.

“I um…” He clears his throat. “I can find you a rock, or something. So you can scratch it out.”

“You’re encouraging vandalism now?” You look back at him through the reflection and joke, though it’s humorless.

“It’s a grave for the living.” He shrugs. “’s lost its meaning.”

“You know, the last time someone was talking in symbolism, you gave them shit for it.”

He’s quiet for a moment, before saying. “That was five years ago.”

Upon hearing his reply, you turn to look at him. Not through a grainy or blurry reflection. Not distorted by relief or rage or frustration. Truly, truly look at him this time.

The silhouette of the Katsuki you know is still firmly there, but like colors that bleed over the line, there are parts you no longer recognize. You’re reminded again that five years of layers have been added to the puzzle that is Katsuki, the puzzle you had a hand in breaking apart.

Did he heal alone? Or did his new lover help put the pieces back together?

You watch the fissure between you and him grow wider, and you desperately want to latch on to the other side and hold it close.

But you can’t. You’re too late. You’d fall into the crack if you keep trying to hold on.

“I think I’ll leave it be for now.” You turn your gaze back to the letters in front of you.

It’s a grave after all, and some parts of you did die. Perhaps when you’re not in mourning anymore, you’ll come back and scrape it away from existence.

Perhaps one day.

#todoroki shouto #shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #shouto x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #hawks #keigo takami #dabi #touya todoroki #mcu

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chicago-pd-is-weird · 11 months ago

Text

Jay Halstead x Reader Oneshot

Synopsis: Jay and reader are together, and reader works at Med in ED with Will. Reader has a lot of anxiety because Jay is a cop, thinking every cop that is brought in may be Jay.

TW: anxiety/panic attacks is a main theme in this, also some mention of blood and doctor-y stuff because reader works at Med in ED

Requested by: @sorry-i-spaced

Thank you so much! This was fun to write!

Any other oneshot requests, please DM me! :)

“We got a Stevenson!” A paramedic called out as they rolled into the ED. You and several other doctors sprung into action, running toward where the paramedics were coming in. ‘Stevenson’ was the code name for a cop, to let Med know who it was, no matter if they were in uniform, plainclothes, or undercover.

“(Y/N)! Rhodes! Trauma three!” Maggie’s voice called from the desk. Working in the ED was no walk in the park, especially in the middle of Chicago. You made your way quickly to where Maggie pointed you, picking up the pace as they wheeled in a man who was surrounded by cops. You pushed through the crowd and into the room, seeing the man on the gurney with three bullet holes in him. You helped get him moved over, then assessed the damage, Dr. Rhodes right behind you to help.

“Three bullet wounds, center mass. I’m assuming this is the perpetrator, not our Stevenson?” You spoke out loud. Some of the officers outside the room confirmed your thoughts.

Your heart was already pumping from the adrenaline as you worked on the man, but you couldn’t help it as it beat faster, hoping the officer shot wasn’t Jay Halstead. It made you especially nervous when the officers outside the room talked amongst one another, saying the man shot was a detective. Bile started to rise in your throat, but you were pulled back by the monitors beeping rapidly. You took immediate action as you snapped out of your anxiety for just a few moments.

You finally stabilized the man enough to take him to surgery, letting the nurses and techs take him with Dr. Rhodes. You backed away, looking around the room at the mess that had been made. For a moment, you stood in silence, looking around at the blood and various instruments that were around the room, as well as the blood on your gloves and scrubs.

Blood. You saw it every day, and yet, you couldn’t help but get a nauseous at the sight. You thought maybe that detective, who was fighting for his life, was bleeding out. That maybe it was the man you loved. Maybe he was in the other room, clinging to life, and here you were, trying to save the man who shot him. The notion made you sick to your stomach. You ripped off your bloody gloves and left them in the room, quickly moving to the nearest bathroom to empty your stomach of your breakfast. You panted in between heaves, gripping the toilet for dear life as you trembled at the thought of Jay dying and you saving the man who killed him.

You and Jay had met through Will, one of your coworkers and closest friends at Chicago Med. Will and Jay were brothers, and both had taken a liking to you at first, but you ultimately decided that romance with a doctor at the same hospital as you would be too complicated. You never expected the anxiety that came with beings cop’s girlfriend, though. You’d been prone to anxiety in the past, but it ramped up when you started getting serious with Jay. You had episodes like this a lot, no matter what cop came in. It had never been Jay in the past, but it only took one bullet in the wrong spot for him to die.

When the nausea passed, you slowly pushed yourself to your feet, though still unsteady as your head spin. You flushed, washed your hands and face, then made your way to the locker rooms to change out of your scrubs and into a fresh pair. When you re-emerged, you were met with Will, who gently pulled you aside before anyone else could see you. “Hey, (Y/N), you okay?” Will already knew the answer to that. He was the only one who knew the full story about these episodes you had at work. Although Jay knew some of it, especially about your anxiety, he didn’t know the full picture, and you’d sworn Will into secrecy over it.

“Will, it wasn’t him, was it?”

“No, (Y/N), Jay is fine. I talked to him just a little bit ago. He is investigating this with Intelligence. He might still be here. He was looking for you.”

You let out a shaky breath, but nodded. You were relieved, but needed to see for yourself. You walked with Will back to where he’d last seen Jay, your stomach settling down as you saw him standing with Detective Lindsay, talking to Maggie. You walked over, leaning on the counter with a hum beside him, hand reaching out to rest atop his on the counter.

Jay smiled when he saw you, leaning over and kissing your cheek. “Hey, was looking for you earlier. That perp going to make it?”

Instantly, your anxiety faded away, as if it was never there in the first place. Jay had that effect on you, especially when he was upright and acting like himself. “It’s touch and go, I think,” you said with a soft sigh. “We did what we could. Rhodes took him to surgery prolly about a half hour ago. If he does make it, it’ll be a hard and long road.”

Jay hummed and looked up at Will, who had taken a place behind the counter with Maggie. “And what about the detective?”

“He’ll make it,” Will replied. “Barring complications, he should be back on the job within a few weeks.”

“That’s good,” Jay replied, shifting his gaze back to you, unable to help the smile that pulled on his lips. “Hey, don’t look so down. We’ve got this.”

Your eyes met his, not realizing you’d looked upset. You smiled at him, nodding. “I know,” you replied. “It just must be hard that it’s one of your own, yaknow?”

“The risks we take,” he said with a small shrug. His statement was so nonchalant, which you didn’t like. You had to force yourself to focus on anything else to keep your rising anxiety at bay. Jay and Erin left soon after, and you shuddered, but moved back to work, checking on some other patients.

— —

“Stevenson incoming!” Maggie’s voice called out. You froze, looking up from the computer you had been typing at, swallowing hard. Your mouth ran dry, as stats were called by the paramedics. “Male, mid-thirties, stabbed multiple times.” You stood quickly, but Maggie didn’t assign you to it. You probably wouldn’t have been much help anyways, seeing as you were on the verge of an attack.

A firm hand was placed on your shoulder, pulling you back to reality as you gasped, looking behind you to see Will. “Come on,” he said softly, nodding to you. “It’s okay, come on.”

You let out a shaky breath, walking with Will out to the small break room. He got you coffee, which you took whether you liked it or not. It was something to pull you back into reality. “I-I’m sorry, I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Will said, shaking his head. “I get the same feeling every time, but Jay just texted me that we are meeting for lunch, so it can’t be him.”

“I shouldn’t feel so much relief from this,” you said, putting your hands to your face, wiping away some tears that had started to escape. “Someone is hurt, yaknow? But I… I’m so terrified of something happening.”

“Have you talked to anyone about this? Maybe Dr. Charles can help.”

“No, no,” you said, sighing heavily, sniffling and wiping your face. “I talked to therapists all throughout middle and high school. None of them even understood me. As far as I know, I’m just messed up mentally.”

“(Y/N),” Will sighed. “We’re all messed up mentally. We’re doctors.” He shook his head again, reaching over to put a hand on your arm. “Look, maybe you just need to find the right person. Besides, we know more about mental health and the brain now than we did then. There may be new tactics to help you cope, even if we can’t cure it.”

You were thankful for Will, nodding at his suggestions. “Maybe,” you muttered, leaning back in your chair and rubbing your face with your hands again, then coming back to down the coffee. “Thanks.”

“Any time,” he replied, nodding. “You’re not alone, alright?”

“Thanks,” you repeated. Just then, Will’s pager rang and he had to go, but he planted a soft kiss on the top of your head as he pulled you into a gentle embrace. As quick as he was beside you, he was gone, and you sank back down to the chair, looking at your empty coffee mug with despair. Maybe you’d never get better.

— —

The past few weeks had been filled with more and more scares. There was a serial killer on the loose who was targeting cops. Your body was racked with constant anxiety every time a Stevenson was brought into the ED. The only time you weren’t was when you were assisting with a surgery, so you stayed with Dr. Rhodes most of the time to ensure you were in surgery. It was better that way for the patients and for you.

The surgery you’d just assisted in finishing was a tough one. It was a kid who had fallen on a pair of scissors the wrong way. However, Dr. Rhodes was like magic, and your own hands remained calm and steady as you fell into a zen-like trance. You weren’t thinking of anything else but the surgery at hand. The anatomy and biology of the body lying below you. It was the only time and place you’d felt at peace, despite the circumstances surrounding the incident.

As you scrubbed out, washing your hands and arms, someone came into the room. “(Y/N)…” Will’s voice rang, a hand coming to your shoulder.

“Hey,” you said softly as you turned off the water and dried your hands. “What’s up?” Your mind was still calm, but when you looked up to Will, you could tell something was off.

“Don’t freak out on me, alright?”

“Will…?” You searched his face for the answer as he squeezed your shoulders with his hands.

“Just, promise.”

“Uh… I… okay…?”

“Okay,” he said with a sigh, knowing that was good enough. “Look, Jay was brought in, but-“

“What?!” You didn’t let him finish before trying to push past him to find Jay.

Will kept you in place. “No, no, (Y/N), stop, it’s okay.”

“This is NOT okay, Will! How are you so calm?!” The bile had begun to rise in your throat as you feared the worst. Tears jumped to your eyes and you had to see him. You had to know Jay was alright, even if he wasn’t.

“Hey, hey, look at me. It’s Will. Look at me!” You looked back up to Will, his hands squeezing your shoulders again to pull you back, shaking you a little. “Look, see, I’m right here. Let me finish before you break down, at least.”

You scoffed, a small scoff to hide the soft laugh of that last remark. Although you were on the verge of an attack, that pulled you back from the edge a bit, making you shake your head. “Just tell me then!”

“Jay just had a gash on his arm from a piece of metal he ran across. He just ran into a piece of metal. His sergeant sent him, just to make sure it was good. He is not shot. He is not hurt badly. He is coherent and walking around. He needed a few stitches, but that’s all.”

You searched Will’s face for any sign of him playing down the injury, but you knew Will wouldn’t lie to you. You let out a breath, wiping your face. “No, I still have to see him though because… if I don’t, I’ll never recover from this feeling.”

“I know,” Will replied. “Come on, he’s in five. But you know if you go in there like this, you’re going to have to come clean?”

“I need to see him,” you affirmed as Will walked you downstairs to where Jay was.

When you got there, you walked in and pushed the curtain back over the door to ensure you had privacy. You nearly broke down as you saw Jay, his shirt off, a bandage on his upper arm. Whether from anxiety or relief, you had no idea. The emotions pulling you in different directions was crippling, and you just stood there, trembling as tears streaked down your cheeks.

Jay looked over you as you stood, frozen in time, hot tears racing down and dripping off your chin. He got up quickly, his soft voice finally hitting your ears. “Hey, hey, (Y/N), what’s the matter?”

As he caught you between his arms, you started to sob, nearly collapsing into his chest. “Fuck, Jay!”

Jay was surprised, but caught you with ease, holding you close to his bare chest. “What did I do this time?” He teased, trying to make you feel better.

You were barely in the mood as you took a fist to his chest, hitting him softly. “Don’t even joke, it’s not fair!”

Jay turned more serious, pulling back to look at you as you sobbed. “Hey… hey, just tell me what’s going on.” You couldn’t muster any more words, wiping your face with your hands. Jay pulled you over, sitting on the bed and pulling you to sit beside him. “(Y/N)?”

“I have… I have this… this intense fear,” you finally spoke, soft words only coming out with your breaths. “This intense… burning fear… all the time… that…” You swallowed hard, leaning into his shoulder on his uninjured arm.

“That what?” Jay prompted after a moment of silence.

“That you’re going to come in here and die!” You sobbed out, moving to cling to him again, arms around his torso. “Jay, every time a cop comes in here, I can’t take it! Anxiety and panic takes me over! I-I can’t! I love you so much, and I can’t lose you!”

“Hey, hey baby, you won’t lose me. You won’t.” Jay held you tightly against his chest once again, kissing your head. “Hey, come here, look at me.” He pulled back, letting you sit up and then gently taking your chin in his fingers. He tenderly pulled your chin up, then leaned down to meet you, planting a soft kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, he let out a breath. “Nothing will ever take me away from you… Nothing. Ever.”

With that, your emotions finally leveled out. You swallowed hard and reached up to cup his face, looking over his freckles. You smiled a little as your eyes met his. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he replied, matching your smile and leaning down to kiss you again.

#chicago pd #chicagopd #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #detective Halstead #detective Jay halstead #x reader #oneshot #fanfiction requests

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nineinch-nailgun · 1 year ago

Text

I'm so sorry mimic enjoyers I got caught up in my ultrakill brainrot and forgot about yall.

for the sake of keeping everything together I'm going to re-upload the stuff I've already written on quotev first so this is just the first chapter lol.

Weird Pet pt. 1

You'd never really been one to worry too much about mimics or any of the vita carnis. You lived in a remote area, it's not like you get a ton of human flesh eating monsters at your door everyday.

Well. That was until you saw the absolutely massive fleshy prick standing dead center of your bedroom, in the middle of trying to fold his arm up so he could get under your bed and wait to kill you in your sleep.

Naturally, this scares the shit out of you, and him as well. He wasn't expecting to be caught red-handed, or for you to stare at him that way. He didn't really seem to know what to do, until you took off running, that is. You sprinted off down your hall, adrenaline forcing your body forward as fast as your legs could carry you. You had to think fast, he was barreling after you, his gangly legs having little to no coordination, resulting in him slamming againsta wall or two. As you ran into the living room you thought quickly, grabbing the nearest object- a lamp- and smashing against the mimic's head.

He was dazed momentarily, stumbling back and making a strange sound similar to a whine and a growl. He regained himself, stumbling after you and lunging around to try and get to you. You didn't even know how you were still on your feet, you'd managed to jerk away from him to this point, you needed a plan. Slowly, an idea formulated in your head. You moved quickly, stumbling out of the living room to the stairs, he chased you down into your basement, lunging as far as he could to reach you- only missing you by a little and slamming right into the bottom step. He scorpioned over the last step, his legs flying over his head. Part of you felt bad, he seemed kinda shitty at this whole 'chase and kill' thing. Although your empathy made it difficult, you decided to use this to your advantage.

You rush past him as he tried to scramble back up, he looked at you with a weird slackjawed look, he raced up the stairs after you, only to get a face full of door. You slammed the door and locked it shut, hearing a loud thud against it, accompanied by a sliding sound. You backed away, hearing the sound of ragged breathing, and then a frustrated grunt from the now imprisoned mimic.

A day had gone by since you'd captured the mimic, and you hadn't let it out, or called anyone.. your initial plan was to let it starve in your basement, but that just seemed cruel at this point. So you did some research on what tastes like human flesh (which made you absolutely certain you'd wind up on a government watch list) and found that ham was pretty close to human meat. "OK, so I'll just get him some ham... yeah... feed the mimic." you muttered out loud, debating with yourself over whether or not you actually should go and get food for the freaky fucker in your basement. Eventually you gave in, closing your front door behind you to go to the local convenience store.

When you got home a pit had grown in your stomach, if you decided to take care of the mimic, you might get attached. So when it decides to eat you it won't just hurt physically but also emotionally. Whatever, feed it anyways. You take the ham, wrapped in plastic towards your basement door, unwrapping it so he wouldn't choke, and then staring at the door for roughly 2 minutes, still arguing with yourself over whether or not even opening the door was a good idea. Slowly, you twisted the door know, you couldn't see where he was- but you could hear him breathing. You threw the ham in and quickly slammed the door shut. You stayed there for a moment, wondering if he'd come and investigate or not. You heard some shuffling, but that was it.

#mimic vita carnis #vita carnis #mimic #mimic x reader #monster x reader (?)#i cant believe i just tagged that like in real life #chat is this real #so sorry vita carnis fans #monster x reader #monster x human

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abarbaricyalp · 1 month ago

Note

If you’re still taking mini fic prompts, I’d love to see your take on “things you said while we were driving” for Sambucky!

Hi!!! The temptation to make this a Twisters au was so great but, no, it's a minific, have some self control

From this ask meme

The drive from DC to Delacroix was somewhere between 16 and 19 hours, depending on how badly they were tearing up the road along the way and what time of day it was. Bucky could usually get it down to fifteen or even fourteen, if it was dark and he had a scanner running. Still, it was always easier to fly.

But, between the way him and Sam looked at the moment, the fact that the wings and shield weren't exactly checked items, and they were ferrying some suspect files, some kind of liquid the color of hell rot, and something called a landshark, the plane wasn't really a viable option.

So they had dragged themselves out of a safe house, argued about who got to drive, and set off. (Sam had lost. His left arm was broken in two places and he had a cast and brace on, two new pieces of metal in the bone) (Bucky had made a joke that now they matched and waved his left arm around, to make Sam smile. It had the opposite effect, with Sam scowling and ignoring him for the first hour of the drive) (Sam was a terrible patient)

At some point, he'd shoved his face against the window, trying to sleep, and Bucky had nearly veered off the road in his haste to stop the truck. "You can't do that," he fussed as he dug out a coat from the back seat. The landshark creature growled at him when Bucky accidentally smacked its side. "You have a concussion."

"I'm fine," Sam groaned. "You're not gonna bruise my brain any more by hitting a pothole."

Bucky still shoved the coat at Sam, balled up and ready for use. Grudgingly, Sam used it as a pillow against the window and tried to lay his head back down.

A few minutes later, the landshark climbed over the console and took up residence in Sam's lap to join in on the nap. Typical, Sam was a friend to animals everywhere. It would track that even the fake ones would like him.

They slept for four hours straight, Bucky reaching over to rub the back of Sam's neck every half hour. Sam still woke up with a crick in it.

"Almost halfway there," Bucky told him as he stretched and the landshark climbed back into the backseat with their gear and bags.

"Let me have a shift," Sam muttered. He rubbed his eyes, squinted out the windshield, then rubbed them again.

"Yeah, you seem like you're in great shape for it," Bucky agreed sarcastically. "This is hardly the longest I've been up for. I'm fine."

"It's getting dark," Sam argued. "We should stop for food at least. You need to stretch."

"You're forgetting who you're dealing with."

"Maybe you're forgetting who you are. You don't have to push yourself to the brink all the time."

"But you ought to use that broken arm and concussion instead?"

Sam shrugged, then grimaced when it obviously jostled his shoulder. Bucky made a noise without looking over again.

"You're gonna exhaust yourself," he muttered.

"And there's a beach chair with my name on it at the end of this, so I'll recover quickly."

"It does not have your name on it," Sam grumbled. "It literally has my name carved in the arm."

Bucky knew that. He'd traced the old, worn letters many times. "I could add my name," he suggested.

"Don't you dare. That's my chair."

The landshark made a reappearance before Bucky could really neddle in. It sat on the center console and kept looking between the both of them. Sam put his hand on its head, having to move his whole casted arm to do it.

"Can you pet a shark?" he asked.

"One direction, yeah. Don't drag your hand up from its tail."

"Why not? Aren't sharks smooth?"

"Wilson, I swear to God--"

Sam squeezed the inside of Bucky's thigh. He had to use his right arm to reach, which meant he'd had to turn in his seat some. If Bucky's alertness had flagged any (it hadn't) he was certainly fully awake now. He kept his eyes very firmly on the road.

"Relax, old man, I was just messing with you."

Sam probably would've kept his hand on Bucky’s leg for a while longer, except that he was turned in his seat. He let go and raised both arms enough for the landshark to get back into his lap.

"Are you hungry?" Bucky asked eventually.

"Yeah, I could eat," Sam answered, which meant they had about twenty minutes to get food in him before he got snippy.

Bucky passed over his phone (he had all the routes to Delacroix memorized but he liked to know about construction) and told Sam to find some place.

Sam chose some burger joint eight miles down the road and passed the phone back. He turned his attention back to the window, rolling it down and putting his hand out into the warm night air. He rested his chin on his bicep as he glided his hand through the air currents.

Bucky watched him, the one singular, focused spot against a blurry background of stars and trees. Sam was usually his one focused spot in a world that seemed to be nothing but tumbling, out of control speeding blurs, so that was nothing new.

But the moonlight and scarce freeway lights splashed across Sam's face, and the idle way he kept trying to pet the creature in his lap without moving his arm, and the quiet concentration he'd fallen into were all very overwhelming.

He'd meant to say, 'put your arm back in the car before you lop it off on an exit sign.' What he actually said, breathy and endeared, was, "I'm so in love with you."

Sam startled upright and he pulled his arm back into the truck, so at least that part worked. "What?" he asked.

The creature in his lap was annoyed by the sudden movement, but it just turned in one circle and laid back down in the other direction.

Bucky's face felt like it was on fire. It was definitely hotter than the air coming in from outside. Hell, he was blushing so bad, he was beginning to feel it in his left arm. "Whatever, you should know," he mumbled. It's not like he could take the words back out of the air or pretend he'd said something else. Those were pretty distinct words.

Sam didn't respond right away. Bucky very much so considered jumping out of the cab.

The exit for the burger place came up and he took it without really thinking about it, or really anything that wasn't the shocked span of Sam's eyes.

When Sam did say something, it was, "Don't rip the steering wheel out."

"What?" Bucky asked in exasperation.

"Your knuckles are so white, I thought it was bone. Relax your hands."

Bucky did. The material of the steering wheel creaked with the release. "One day, you're gonna stop thinking that joke's funny."

"You said you loved me," Sam countered. And he definitely meant it as a counter argument.

"It should've been obvious."

Sam startled a little again, like a violent shiver. "How long should it have been obvious for?"

Bucky shrugged. "I dunno. Obvious? Since Latvia, at least."

"Latvia?" Sam half shouted, strangled. The landshark vacated his lap. "We didn't start... dating or whatever for months after that! What do you mean, since Latvia?"

Bucky shrugged again, felt his fingers tighten around the wheel once more. "I don't know, Sam. I haven't been hiding it."

"Oh, bullshit!" Sam argued. "You disappeared right after that again."

Bucky's jaw tightened. There was no argument for that. He had. "I didn't know what to do with it. How to hold it, where to put it, how to show it. It's been a long time. And you're... It felt like diving straight into the ocean. The deep part of it. And I've been learning how to swim in the middle of a hurricane ever since."

Again, Sam didn't immediately reply. Bucky was beginning to hate that. The burger joint came up from between a thick line of trees and Bucky almost missed it, but the parking lot was long enough that he could pull into the far side of it. He killed the engine and tried to dash out of the car. This would be less painful than jumping out on the freeway.

Sam nabbed his sleeve before he could grab the door and Bucky froze because Sam was using his left hand. The last thing Bucky needed to do was aggravate his splints.

"Don't run away again," he said.

"We're literally going into the same diner," Bucky pointed out, playing at dumb because that was easier than accepting Sam's metaphor.

Sam just stared at him. For a man with as many injuries as he was sporting, his face was remarkably clear. Bucky was the one who looked like he'd gone three rounds with a rock 'em sock 'em robot. There was one gash across Sam's eyebrow and his nose was a little swollen, plus the bruise at his temple that made Bucky's heart stop every time he thought it had changed shape. But he was still perfectly Sam. Still staring at Bucky, waiting for him to respond like an adult.

"I'm not running away," he breathed finally. "You're the one who looks like he's ready to bolt."

"I'm not bolting," Sam said. He let go of Bucky's sleeve, but took his hand before Bucky could go for the door again. "But don't drop that on me in the middle of a seventeen hour drive while I'm concussed and on pain meds."

"You do need to take more meds," Bucky said.

Sam looked unimpressed.

"I'm not gonna be sorry for loving you," Bucky added. "I'm not apologizing for saying it. But... don't tell Sarah that I did and you didn't like it."

"I didn't say I didn't like it."

"Sam," Bucky sighed, his turn with the unimpressed eyes.

"I didn't. I just...wasn't expecting it."

Bucky squeezed Sam's hand and let go of it, finally shoving open the door. "We should get something for your new friend. What do they even eat? License plates?" he asked, stalling and distracting as he got out.

Sam sighed from inside the cab, but he followed Bucky out of the truck. "I'm sure a few extra burgers will do the job."

Bucky scrubbed at his face, willing his blush to go away or for any of the bruises that still pulsed beneath his skin to hide it. He looked up at the sky, the stars so damn bright in the middle of Fuckall, North or South Carolina. And for just a second, they were still and warm and Sam was the blur in front of him.

But Sam grabbed his sleeve again and pulled him onto the porch of the diner. The stars tilted away as Sam put two fingers to Bucky's jaw and kissed him.

#sambucky #bucky barnes #sam wilson #captain america #the falcon and the winter soldier #sambucky fanfic #i answer things #writing #thunderbolts #captain america brave new world

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delphi-shield · 8 months ago

Text

pity party // claire redfield

Claire x Reader Smut wc: 2180 mdni - 18+ i got a new job!! anyway. claire. rewrote this twice bc i couldn't decide where i wanted them to fuck tbh. in my heart this is older!claire, but you can read it literally however you want. not proofread.

summary: Being Claire's plus one to her work party only dredges up old insecurities.

content: afab reader, fem reader, fingering, squirting, jealousy & insecurity re: cheating, public sex, alcohol ment. & use, claire's unnamed ex

This party fucking sucks.

You’re overdressed, embarrassed, still fighting off the chill from an unexpected motorcycle ride. Claire had told you she would pick you up. She just forgot to mention it would be on her bike. She had also forgotten to mention that this work party was super casual.

Claire had laughed when you opened the door to greet her, quickly assuring you that you looked great before you had the chance to crawl into your skin and die -- it just wasn't that sort of party. You must have looked like some sort of kicked puppy, because she’d laid the compliments on thick. Deflated, you'd offered to change, but there just wasn't enough time, and it would look bad if she was late – a whole slew of excuses. Heels and all, you had clambered onto Claire's bike.

You’d felt like an idiot, click-clacking after her in your heels and your pretty dress, being introduced to Claire’s friends and coworkers rapid-fire. You can't keep names and faces straight, but they look right past you and focus on Claire. Can't say you blame them for that.

It's a casual party, all right. Way, way casual. You look at odds holding your red solo cup in your pretty dress and your once shiny (now scuffed) heels, like a period actor with a cell phone. You don't know any of these people, and they're all clamoring for Claire's attention. You’d figured out pretty quickly that it was going to be difficult to pull her away from the center of things and resign yourself to the drink table. If she was your ride, you were at least going to take the chance to get hammered and forget that you looked like a dolled up tart.

Despite all the rancid ‘don’t talk to me, I’m drowning my sorrows and this is not a group activity’ vibes you keep putting off, a mousy woman who seems equally intent on getting plastered has taken up the spot next to you, going two drinks to your one. You miss her name in the deluge of information that she rattles off, but catch her job description. Office manager - seems about right. It doesn't take long for her to drift into gossip.

Most of it is banal. Your eyes search for Claire in the crowd and find her leaned against a bar top, talking to an unfamiliar face. They're all unfamiliar, sure, but Claire hadn't introduced you to this one. They lay a hand on Claire's arm, let it slide down slow - hold her for a moment. Your eyes narrow.

"What's up with that?" You gesture towards your girlfriend with your beer, bitterness soaking your words. Either your companion is too steeped in alcohol to pick it up, or she's savoring this drama herself.

"Oh - yeah, they used to have a thing. Like, way before they started working together, so it's all like, ethically above board, and --"

The woman keeps talking even though you're not hearing a goddamn word anymore. You nod along politely, tight smile pulling your face taut. Your eyes never leave Claire and who you now know to be her ex. Ex what, you don’t know. Maybe it was serious, maybe it wasn't. Doesn’t matter. They're an ex something. Currently, though, very close. Too close. Brushing Claire’s hair from her face - yeah, actually, you know what, fuck this.

Fuck this so hard. You’d walk home.

You chunk your drink into the trash and teeter away unsteadily for the bathroom. You’re too wrapped up in your own misery to have seen Claire push her ex’s hand away, or to see her look your way - you hear her raise her voice, but shut it out quickly behind the flimsy bathroom door before you can parse her words.

Stupid fucking party. Stupid fucking girlfriend and her magnetic presence, and her pretty smile that draws everyone in. You splash cold water in your face, trying to come to your senses. Barely two beers in and you’re acting like an idiot.

You don’t hear her slip in the door. She doesn’t knock - why would she. Claire drapes herself over your back, her arms slipping around your waist loosely. You jump, knock your head against her chin and leave her swearing, muttering jesus, hun, it’s just me, before she melts into a chuckle. Her hand rubs at your head, soothes you instead of herself.

“You okay?” She asks, as if she doesn’t already know the answer.

“Yeah.”

Claire’s generous. She gives you a whole, agonizingly slow five seconds to retract that before she calls you on it.

“Okay. Because you kinda stormed off.”

She’s not just generous, you realize, she’s cautious. Like she knows you’re spring-loaded and ready to snap. That only makes you grit your teeth.

“Yeah, well, I’m just kind of over this.”

“The party? We just got here–”

“And you’re already getting real comfortable,” you snap, spinning in her arms to face her. It’s hard to miss the accusation, even if it’s not outright. Claire’s mouth thins into a hard line.

You can see her working through it all. The uncharitable part of you thinks she’s coming up with some excuse, some way to worm her way out of this. She takes a slow, deep breath.

“Okay,” she says. “Okay, look, if this is about her– we work together, hun. I can’t just avoid her.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to get close.”

“I’m not, babe, I’m –”

Claire stops herself. A hand leaves your waist to pinch at the bridge of her nose. Another deep, steadying breath. You turn away from her again, back to face the sink. The silence chokes you, makes angry tears spring to your eyes.

Her hand slides up your thigh, following the curve of your body up towards the apex of your thigh. You push at her wrist. She’s trying to switch tactics, and you’re having none of it.

“Claire–”

“Let me apologize. Okay? I’m sorry for dragging you to this party. I’m sorry I sprung all this on you. And I’m very sorry for not warning you about my ex.”

Your jaw clenches. You shouldn't let her do this. Being with her is like training a dog - consistency is key. She’ll take the inch and the mile then come back asking for more. You’ve already embarrassed yourself at this party. If you get caught like this, your life is so over.

But Claire litters kisses against your skin, whispers please so sweetly in your ear. Her fingers slip beneath your top, graze against your belly in a way that makes your stomach flip and your nipples tighten.

“I want a proper apology and a proper talk,” you say. Your hands grip the counter tightly. You watch her in the mirror, see her face fall and her eyes darken. She sighs against your neck, her shoulders sagging against you. “After you're done.”

It’s like you flipped a lightswitch. Claire’s smile brightens immediately, ignites a hungry spark in her eyes. She drops a kiss against your shoulder, drags her nose along the curve of your neck. Her hair falls against your neck. The bright, summery scent of her perfume envelops you and coaxes you back against her, her hands roving leisurely against your side, your stomach, your hips. She never needed much of an invitation to explore you.

Your eyes are locked on the mirror, watching the door for any sign of movement. The pleasure building in the pit of your stomach barely outweighs the prickle of anxiety that blankets your skin.

Her lips press against your neck. She's well-behaved until your head lolls to the side, your anxiety smoothed into a pleasant tingle by her kisses

“Relax,” Claire whispers, voice cloying. On her best behavior.

Your brow furrows. You have half a mind to pull away, tell her this is a stupid idea, that she’ll get in so much trouble if someone walks in. Her thumb brushes over your clit through your panties. You whine In the back of your throat, a pathetic, needy sound that makes Claire press a laugh into your hair. She shushes you, almost sounds gleeful about it - bet she’s real proud of herself for that one.

Fuck. Now you're mad at yourself.

“Hurry up,” you mumble. She’d make this last the rest of the party if you let her. Keep you trapped away in this bathroom til you’re sore and chafed.

Claire laughs. Low and soft, right next to your ear. Her thumb rolls over your clit again and again. It's hard to tell which is making you drip more. Her hand finally slips beneath the fabric to touch you for real, long fingers parting your lips.She stays just shy of where you want her, fingers spreading to rub the sides of your clit at the last possible moment, taunting you with the promise of direct contact, of the pad of her finger rolling against you again and again.

“I could do this for hours.” She purrs. Her teeth nip at your neck. She sucks a mark onto your skin, her tongue laving over the spot again and again to seal it in, make sure it takes. She finally gives you what you want. Your hips jut against her hand, chasing more touch, more feeling.

“They’re gonna see,” you whine, wiggling in her grip. You just know she’s get the blood flush to the top, a mark that will take a week to fade.

“Good.”

Heat soaks through you. She presses a finger into your needy hole, crowding you over the sink and bending you to the angle she needs, the angle she knows is best for ripping orgasm after orgasm out of you. You keen, poor little thing, and she joins another finger to your core, grinding the meat of her palm against your clit, and drumming a harsh pace. It’s so easy to move you where she wants you. You’re so malleable beneath her hands, the deceptive strength that guides you where you need to be, where she wants you. Rocking against her rhythm is pointless. You fall out of step quickly, unable to do more than try to keep your knees from buckling while her fingers drill into your cunt.

Her other hand slides up your body, squeezing handfuls of your tummy along the way. It's far from worshipful. The way she grips you, tugs you back into her with each pull - it's obsessive.

Her palm flattens to slip into the valley between your breasts. She spreads her fingers tantalizingly slow. She paws at your breast, feather-light and teasing for all of five seconds before she gives in and squeezes. Patience has never been her virtue.

“Did you get jealous, baby?” she coos, taunting. Her fingers hit against you just right, no gentle massaging, no torturous pull of pleasure - just the electric feeling lighting through your veins and the sloppy noise you can hardly believe is coming from your own body.

“Mmhmm,” you whine, your eyes squeezing shut tightly. Claire squeezes your other tit, rougher than the first and Jesus Christ, when you manage to open your eyes for two seconds and catch your reflection in the mirror you realize you’re drooling, a quickly cooling trail down your chin.

“I'm three knuckles deep in your pussy and you’re still thinking about my ex?” Her fingers curl the moment you open your mouth, massaging that spot that sets a bomb off in your core, floods your limbs with mind-numbing sensation. You rock back into her, toes curling, thighs caving inwards and trapping her arm in a plush prison.

You snap in her hands, hot, wet rush soaking Claire’s fingers and the rug tangled up between your feet. Claire slips her tongue into your mouth and drinks down every noise you make, her kiss bruising and her fingers still drilling into your cunt, her eyes locked onto the mirror, savoring every reaction she rips from you.

You have to push at her wrist again to get her to withdraw. She’d keep doing this if you let her, you know she would. It’s her turn to whine and pout. She winds her hand up over your shoulder just to suck her fingers clean.

“Unbelievable,” you breathe out. The noises she’s making are obscene, slurping your taste off of her digits in a way that makes your stomach flip all over again, clit throbbing for more attention.

“Right?” she agrees, cheeky little grin making her look younger. “That was like record speed for me. I could have taken way longer. Really drawn it out.”

You snort. The look you level her with must be pretty damn serious, because she doesn’t keep rambling.

You can’t stop staring at the dark, wet patch you’ve left on the bathmat. Your brow furrows. Claire follows your eyes, trying to see what the matter is. She points to herself. You shake your head. She looks behind her, shrugs, can’t quite figure out what the matter is.

“Made a mess,” you mumble, embarrassment lacing your tone. You nudge at the edge of the mat with your toe. “They’re gonna know.”

Claire rolls her eyes. She flips the sink on, cups water in her hands, and slings it onto the same bathmat you had just squirted all over.

“There,” she says, more exasperated than accomplished. “See? Totally normal. It’s a bathroom. Things get wet in bathrooms. Like you.”

But it’s hard to be enamored with the way she looks on her knees for you when you can’t stop staring at the dark, wet patch you’ve left on the bathmat. Your brow furrows. Claire follows your eyes, trying to see what the matter is. She points to herself. You shake your head. She looks behind her, shrugs, can’t quite figure out what the matter is.

She sets her hands on your hips, turning you to face her. Claire guides your panties up your legs, sets them back in place for you. You smile, affection blooming in your chest. Such a lady, after everything.

Or maybe you’ve spoken too soon, because she makes a point to kiss your clit through your panties before she pulls your dress back down.

#claire redfield x reader #claire redfield smut #resident evil smut #resident evil imagine #resident evil x reader #claire redfield x you #uploaded the draft instead of the final version of this fic and only caught it two days later oops

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