#he is so busy taking care of everyone else
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Ok fine you guys twisted my arm (I say to a completely empty room) here's why I think Mass Effect 2 worked and Veilguard tried to copy it and failed.
First up is the complexity of the goal/plot. In ME2, the end goal was simple: Stop the Collectors from harvesting humans. Blast off through the Omega 4 Relay and probably die. Take down as many Collectors as possible before you die. Basically, shoot stuff until it explodes. It made sense that half of the squadmates were just "legendary badass", "legendary badass (green skin version)" and "legendary badass (huge tits version)." You need to kill dudes, so you pick people who are good at killing. There are a few who are better at tech or science, but they use tech and science to, you guessed it, kill dudes. Then you have a few who join due to aligning goals (Legion) or loyalty to Shepard (Tali, Garrus) or humanity/Cerberus (Jacob, Miranda), or they're literally getting paid to be there (Kasumi and Zaeed). But all of them have reasons to stick around, of various importance.
The specificity of the main plot is also relevant here, because everybody in the galaxy is like "oh humans are getting kidnapped? sucks to suck dude rip in piss ://" so it makes sense to recruit whoever you can get. You need help for an issue that (according to everyone who would otherwise help) only concerns you. So you're like "hey are you good at killing? and do you mind dying?" and most of those freaks go "yeah lmao whatever." They're self-selecting, because the cause is so specific and explicitly suicidal.
The suicidal thing also helps explain the loyalty missions, btw. They're not presented as "hey can you umm help? or I'm gonna be distwacted 👉👈" but as "hey man, these people are willing to die on your command, you should probably help them with their unfinished business at the very least." And yeah, the mechanic of "if you don't help they'll fucking perish" remains the same, but the framing is different. In ME2, you're basically helping a bunch of professionals to do this final thing before they die for your cause. It's both a sign of respect and of consideration for them as people, and strengthens your bond with them and their loyalty to you. The way it's framed means that you don't have to do this in order for them to do their job, but doing it helps strengthen their belief in you.
And because the stakes are relatively low (as far as everyone knows), of course the squadmates will respect and appreciate a Shepard who takes care of them more. Of course it builds loyalty. This person isn't just using you as a meat shield for their pet crusade, they're genuinely trying to do what's right and don't want you to die for nothing.
In Veilguard, you're literally told multiple times that you have to do their dumbfuck busywork or else they're gonna throw in the towel. Hey man can you do this thing? Or else I'm not saving the world :3c The stakes being SO HIGH while their issues are SO NOTHING makes most of them look really immature and incompetent, which clashes against the whole "gang of experts" thing. You're telling me this couldn't wait? I have to go into Lucanis' mind and figure out his traumas or else he won't ... hold a knife good? And that will doom the world because he's the only guy who can hold a knife? Okay???
ME2 presents everybody as professionals and experts in their field, but at the end of the day, they're just there to kill stuff. Remove one, and another will be found. The mission is (as far as everyone in power knows) not galaxy-threatening yet, so finding new guys to help would be easy. That's why Shep taking the time to solve their final issues means something and why it earns their loyalty. It shows that Shep cares about them as people.
Veilguard presents these people as experts in their fields, too. They're considered irreplacable in this conflict. And the conflict is saving the whole entire fucking world. And YET, that has to take a backseat to them figuring out what happened to a work colleague or Lucanis' grandma, because none of these experts can take a fucking chill pill to SAVE THE WORLD.
ME2 offers "low" stakes for the conflict and high stakes for the characters, so when it focuses on the characters' stories, it makes sense. You get the impression that it's character drama with a common goal that brings them all together. Veilguard offers high stakes for the plot and low stakes for the characters, but still focuses on the characters, so you get the sense that we're fucking around playing therapist while the world is on fire in the background, and it's presented as totally logical, because these guys can't save the world without a clear mind!! Despite being ... experts in their fields.
That's why, to me, Rook feels like a therapist while Shep feels like a leader.
Anyway, this is the formal end of the post but I wrote more on the specific character motivations of the Veilguard and why they don't work/feel trite to me and how that adds to Rook feeling like they're a therapist but it didn't fit with the rest of the post so under cut.
Another thing is that, while sometimes the problems of the Veilguard are technically higher stakes than the problems of the ME2 squad, there is a sense of "Hey do you actually need me for this?" And that I think is in part to the lacking motivations of the Veilguard. It's so unclear why some of them stick around that it becomes difficult to justify why they wouldn't just leave to fix their own issues.
(For example, Garrus asks us to help kill a guy. The guy isn't dangerous, he's not out there killing people or in possession of a superweapon ready to destroy a city. He's just an asshole and Garrus wants revenge. He could, technically, leave and just kill the guy himself. He knows where the guy is, so what's holding him back? Well, the job is. And Shepard is. Garrus wants Shep's help, because he doesn't trust himself to finish it on his own. He needs somebody to rely on, but he also knows that he can't just leave without Shep's permission, and that Shep needs him, too. Everything is on Shep's schedule, and there's no real time limit. His revenge can wait until Shep is ready to offer their help.
Neve is hunting an old rival who is a blood mage threatening to enslave her favorite city in all da world. It's pretty damn high stakes. But in my playthrough, Neve wasn't counting on Rook's help at all. In fact, she explicitly mentioned several times that she didn't. Yet, she still sat around and waited for their help. She didn't leave to deal with this on her own, didn't even consider it. But why not? What about Rook or this cause is keeping her there, especially since there's canonically time before the next big move and the issue is so high-stakes and pressing? People will die if she doesn't do something, yet she's sitting on her ass waiting for Rook, whose help she isn't counting on, to step up? What???)
Neve is introduced as being hired by Varric to find Solas, which she does. In the tutorial mission. She sticks around after Varric dies because ... she's in too deep now, I guess. She has to help save the world, you see. Even though all she wants is to go back to Minrathous and protect the people there. She wants your help to. Figure out some stuff. The famous big city detective needs the help of a person who's introduced as somebody who "thinks in straight lines" and whose nickname is probably a play on "rookie." She is not getting paid for this. She's doing this out of the kindness of her heart, even though most of her time on screen is spent dreaming of her favorite city in da world. She's not an expert in anything that has to do with the current plot, so she's in-fiction not really vital to keep around. Her role as a mage is made entirely pointless by the existence of Bellara and Emmrich. Supposedly her area of expertise is in blood magic ... despite hating it and not actually practicing it, on account of it being bad and evil. So she's an expert in killing blood mages, then?
Well, no. That's Lucanis. He's the resident mage killer ... who we find in an underwater prison, guarded by blood mages. I get there is a reason for why he was defeated, but the optics aren't great, ya know? We don't really free him as much as we lightly distract his guards, so he can bust out of the prison fully clothed and armored. He's suuper eager for revenge, but he's also been forcefully possessed. But that's okay, because we need his expertise for um. Killing mages. Which is what the Evanuris are. So this random possessed human guy will know better than anybody else how to kill the Evanuris. Sure. He decides to stick around on account of ... the Crows always finishing a contract. Who is paying him? Who is paying the Crows? His gam-gam ordered him to stay, she's basically offering us his services for freeing him. Guy is an indentured servant but acts like it's his choice, like it's an honor thing and not his grandma putting him in the toilet. And when it's time for him to show/offer his expertise in the field, he says "How am I supposed to fight a cloud?" which is fair enough, sure. But have you not fought mages before? Do you not have any reference for them doing weird shit at all? Do you not know how to disrupt rituals, break barriers? In the end, all he can practically do is hold the special knife and attempt to stick the pointy end into his target. Which my rogue Rook or Davrin or Taash chould've done. But gam-gam says to sit so he sits! It's not a very compelling motivation for this epic expert mage killer to just kinda. Stick around out of obligation. It could've been interesting, if he chafed against it or had to be won over, but he's just fine with it. It's treated as natural that this dude, who isn't even slightly an actual expert and is just a glorified knife holder and who isn't practically useful in any sense of the word, is still in the group. It's treated as natural that Rook has to go out of their way to help him clear his mind so he can hold the knife better next time, instead of just finding another guy to hold the knife. Maybe the spirit in him makes him stronger and more capable of fighting mages? No, the spirit is what made him miss in the first place, actually! So you have to help him figure it out or he'll miss again. DON'T ask somebody else to hold the knife though. It HAS TO BE Lucanis. Because he's the mage killer expert. Who missed. And can't handle mages.
Then we have Taash, who we need to kill the blighted dragons. They're the only dragon hunter around and have an encyclopedic knowledge of said dragons. Unfortunately the blighted state of the dragons that are actually necessary to kill are behaving in unexpected and different ways from normal dragons. They're literally manipulated by the Evanuris to be harder to kill. Making Taash's expertise moot. I didn't even have them in my party when I took on two dragons at once, and in fact the only dragons that Taash is presented as capable of killing are ones that they want us to kill. So this expert we recruit mostly introduces more dragons for us to kill that aren't actually threatening us in any way. The main time Taash has to show off their knowledge is when we use the dragon trap ... which was fashioned by Wardens. Who are all trained specifically to fight Archdemons. Who are dragons. That are blighted. Do you uh. Do you see my problem here. Taash also sticks around the Veilguard for inexplicable reasons. Mostly it seems they don't want to go home to their mother, which is fine, but this is a whole-ass adult, supposedly. They could go back to hunting dragons for the Lords, because they're written as too self-absorbed to really care about stepping up to the fight just for the sake of it. So despite them not really being useful in any way to the overall plot, we still have to help them figure out their gender identity, or else they won't be able to ... fight the blighted dragons. Which they couldn't fight. On account of the blight. Cool cool cool.
Then we have Emmrich, who is a professor and has shit to do. He is also presented as a Fade expert, while Bellara is somehow not, despite doing most of the Fade-related and artifact-related magic on-screen. Emmrich joins the Veilguard on account of um. Well we asked nicely, and he's a good guy, so he has to help save the world. Despite the fact that he's terrified of dying. Which he's far more likely to do after leaving his job. And the thing is, yeah, "the world might end so we need to stop that!" is a valid motivation, but if we accept it as the motivation of a central character whose plot we must find compelling, then why is it that it's only a few guys trying to save the world? This conflict is prestented as bigger than all the previous games combined, bigger than (the) Inquisition, which had literally entire armies and different branches and infrastructure for it's "smaller" conflict, and people were still volunteering and joining in droves, but here we're 8 guys? Are we meant to believe Emmrich's willingness to join the Veilguard is somehow unique to him, and that nobody else in the world would volunteer to join? When Harding exists, on the same team?
Speaking of, Harding is a character who can really get away with "I wanna save the world", because her joining the Inquisition is literally how she got into the plot in the first place. She's a joiner. She joins heroic causes. So her having this sort of bare-bones but noble motivation works. Same with Davrin. Bellara seems to join out of both curiosity and guilt, which are interesting enough reasons and come through visibly in her subplot and characterization, but more importantly, she doesn't have anything holding her back that might take priority until she finds out her brother is alive. Her sticking around also makes some sense because she's ya know. An elf mage Fade expert. Or sorry an elf artifacts expert.
I'm not saying "somebody's gotta do it!" or "it's the right thing to do!" aren't valid motivations, they clearly are, but there's gotta be more to it, especially when it comes to characters who have something to lose like Emmrich. My guy is terrified of death but he's such a good dude that he jumps into this life-threatening conflict without a second thought? But then gets so "distracted" by his wacky scientist former colleague that he needs our help figuring it out? Huh???
Um. I didn't have a conclussy for this part of the post so. bye
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How about Batfam x male reader, where reader is Russian and has a slight accent, unless someone really pissed him off, that's when it really shows. Reader is always eloquent and kind, and you don't notice his accent unless you are really paying attention to the way he says certain words, but after a few galas where a fat businessman keeps insulting him somehow, and Damian or Jason are trying to defend Reader, but Reader just tells them no. When the fat businessman insults his brothers, Reader finally snaps and just goes full blown Michael Blackson Teacher style roast on him and his entire family in front of everyone, even his Russian accent comes out (I just think it would be funnier with the accent). After the gala is done, Bruce tries to scold the reader, but everyone is constantly trying to contain their laughter except Jason, as Reader finally snapping is the funniest thing that ever happened at a gala. Even Alfred can't bring himself to scold Reader for what he has done because he was there.
I know you are probably busy, so whenever you have the time for this one-shot. Thank you.
Oh hell yeah. Also, I couldn't find a GIF. I'm sorry...
Summary: (Y/N) is Russian and takes no disrespect.
Warnings: fat shaming? Only when (Y/N) was insulted.
Bruce would say that all of his children are nice, but (Y/N) is an exception to a certain degree. He is nice, eloquent, kind and loves to help others. He's Russian, can speak Russian fluently and his accent is rather hidden. You can hear it come out in certain words, but other than that, it is rather hidden. And Bruce loves to listen to it. Especially when he is frustrated about something, or simply can't remember a word in English.
That's when the Russian actually comes out. Of course everyone will revert to their native language when frustrated, mad and everything else. It was something that was rather endearing. Cute even. Just some grumbling underneath his breath about something in Russian. (Y/N)'s brothers found it cute. And they started to pick up a few phrases of their own.
But not curse words, because Alfred doesn't want to hear any cursing in the manor. None. Not in English, Russian, Arabic or any other language. It doesn't matter if it's a dead language or a live one, because Alfred is going to lay down the law.
Even now, while there was a gala going on in the Manor, Bruce watched his sons carefully. Jason was evading it with everything in him, Tim was getting some food, Damian was his usual grouchy self, Dick was conversing with some people and so was (Y/N), using his eloquence to get his points across. Bruce smiled as he brought a glass up to his lips, sipping some champagne.
All was well.
For once.
Bruce was surprised, but wasn't going to complain or actually question why the universe has decided to bring peace upon the Wayne Manor. Peace was seemingly a rare thing in this Manor and Bruce was going to cherish it for the rest of the night. Actually, for as long as it lasts, Bruce will cherish it.
Oh, that peace wasn't going to last long.
At all.
As (Y/N) was talking to a woman about some charities, a big, fat businessman approached. Sure, it's not nice to call someone fat, but, if someone's stomach is spilling over the pants, then it's just a fair game. Bruce watched from afar, just observing the room.
He raised his brow when he saw (Y/N) frowning, clearly mad about something. Bruce could make out a few words and one of them struck a nerve. Commie, or short for communist. (Y/N) never liked that. Never. Just because Russia was a communist country, that doesn't make him bad. And how the hell is that an insult?
(Y/N) shot right back, calling him a capitalist for not caring about his workers, which were the more prevalent rumors in the high society. Bruce watched, wondering how it will unfold. But then it hit him. This was the man that (Y/N) had problems with for the last few galas. (Y/N) always remained polite, but Bruce knew that it would rile him up and upset him.
Damian and Jason noticed and both have jumped to his defense, defending him with polite and tense smiles. But the businessman wasn't letting up. At all. Being this relentless in insulting was rather... Weird. Bruce kept watching, ready to step in the moment it gets too tense or it escalates.
And (Y/N) had a rule. It was, insult him all you want, but insult his brothers? He will retaliate. Tenfold.
And that's where the fat man opened the door for him to retaliate. The moment that the man insulted Damian's Arabic heritage and Jason's life on the streets before adoption, (Y/N) was absolutely fuming and has decided to go onto the offensive.
He hurled insults onto the man, but one that made Bruce nearly lose his mind was, and he quotes this, " You are one sandwich away from a heart attack. " And (Y/N) wasn't done, far from done. Firstly, the Russian accent came out during all of this and he wasn't letting up. Since the family of the fat businessman joined, (Y/N) was not battling on two different fronts.
And he wasn't holding back.
At all.
Jason and Damian were trying to keep straight faces but it's not easy.
Bruce had no doubt that Jason would later say that the insults are a work of art.
The gala was now over and everyone was sitting in the kitchen, munching on the leftover food. Alfred was standing there, watching (Y/N), knowing what had went down in the ballroom. Bruce was supposed to scold him. Maybe ground him, perhaps. Take away certain things?
But then again, he was defending himself. The man insulted him first so... Well...
So Bruce was going to try to scold (Y/N). He has to. And that was difficult when everyone around them was trying not to laugh so hard. Even Alfred. Seeing (Y/N) snap, when he was normally kind and calm. And with a Russian accent too. It was all too much for Jason who was laughing his ass off the entire time whole Bruce was trying to scold the reader.
" You know what, I won't scold you, " Bruce declared, making Jason cry from laughter.
" (Y/N) snapping is the best thing that has ever happened at a gala. Ever. EVER, " Jason wheezed out, slapping his knee.
Alfred tried not to break, because he was supposed to be a serious one, but Alfred couldn't even hold it together. He was about to break. Should (Y/N) be scolded? Yes. However, he didn't start the insulting, the man did... Alfred tried to keep it together. He did.
And he was going to keep it together.
So, to conclude the evening, in the history of galas, (Y/N) has put his mark in it.
#dc x male reader#dc comics#x male reader#batfamily#bruce wayne x male reader#jason todd x male reader#batman x male reade#red hood x male reader
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꩜ .ᐟ WAY DIFFERENT 박종성
— ✮⋆˙ slytherin!jay x hufflepuff!reader ✮⋆˙ fluff, harry potter au ✮⋆˙ 0.9k wc ✮⋆˙ grammar errors
wherein they thought jay was just like every other slytherin, but he wasn’t.
people always whispered about slytherin. it was the house of ambition, cunning, and—unfortunately—reputation. words like “trouble” and “arrogance” clung to its name, and most students believed the stereotypes. you weren’t sure what to think of it yourself, but you believed in giving people a chance.
and then there was park jeongsong—or jay, as most people called him.
you admitted he had the face of someone who might snap easily. and, well, maybe that part was true. but the more you observed him, the more you noticed he wasn’t like the others. he’d sit quietly with his friends, barely speaking unless spoken to, and honestly didn’t seem to care much about anyone else’s business.
he was intriguing, to say the least.
“wait, are you serious?” jake asked, stopping mid-step as you walked through the castle corridors.
“yes, i’m serious,” you replied with a soft laugh. “what’s so surprising about that?”
“because you’re curious about jay,” jake said, giving you a look of disbelief. “like, park jeongsong jay?”
you frowned slightly. “yeah, why? isn’t he your friend?”
jake shrugged, his grin teasing. “i mean, i guess. i consider everyone friends, lowkey. but jay’s... different. just be careful around him.”
“is this because he’s a slytherin?” you asked, crossing your arms.
“maybe,” jake said, his grin widening mischievously. “or maybe it’s just me being a good friend and looking out for you.”
you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “noted, jake. thanks. anyway, what class do you have next?”
“potions.”
“oh, good luck,” you said with a sympathetic smile. “heard professor snape’s in one of his moods today.”
“great. can’t wait,” jake muttered, waving you off.
the charms classroom was already filled with sunlight when you arrived. taking your usual seat near the back, you pulled out your supplies and tried to push the conversation with jake out of your mind. but when jay walked in, it was impossible not to notice him.
he moved with quiet confidence, his expression unreadable as he took a seat with the other slytherins. he didn’t bother looking around the room, but when his eyes almost met yours, you quickly averted your gaze, pretending to adjust your quill.
professor flitwick’s cheerful energy soon filled the room, making it easy to focus—until he announced a paired activity.
your usual partner wasn’t there today, and everyone else had already grouped up. just as you were about to start the task alone, the chair beside you shifted.
“wanna be partners?”
you looked up, startled to see jay standing there. his voice was calm, his expression neutral, but his lips curved into a faint, polite smile.
“oh, um—yes, of course,” you replied quickly, smiling back.
working with jay was unexpectedly pleasant. his presence, though intimidating at first, became comforting as you worked together.
you found yourself surprised by how easy it was to talk to him. jay wasn’t just helping you; he was actually engaging in conversation, correcting your wand movements gently and offering tips in a way that made you feel comfortable
“you’re getting it,” he said, nodding slightly as you performed the spell successfully. “just keep your wrist steady like that.”
“thanks,” you said, glancing at him with a small smile.
but the moment was shattered by whispers from behind you.
“why is jay partnering with a hufflepuff?”
“isn’t she a half-blood?”
“ugh, filthy—”
jay’s gaze snapped to the group, his voice cutting through the whispers like a blade. “excuse me,” he said coolly, his tone polite but firm. “if you have something to say, perhaps you should keep it to yourself. your voices are distracting.”
the slytherins fell silent under his piercing stare, and when he turned back to you, his expression softened again.
“sorry about that,” he said quietly. “let’s focus on the next spell.”
you nodded, your heart fluttering slightly. “thank you. i appreciate it.”
jay smiled faintly. “they were being jerks anyway,” he muttered, leaning back slightly. “it’s honestly embarrassing how much they care about things that don’t matter.”
you laughed softly. “i guess i didn’t expect you to defend me. i mean, you’re slytherin, and i’m...” jay raised an eyebrow, his lips tugging up slightly. “what? a hufflepuff? a half-blood? do i seem like the type to care about that?”
you blinked, momentarily taken aback. “no... but i guess i didn’t expect you to be so—gentle.”
jay leaned back in his chair, his eyes glinting with amusement. “gentle? that’s a new one.”
the two of you finished the activity in sync, earning praise from professor flitwick and points for both your houses. as the class ended, you packed up your things and walked out together.
“thanks for partnering with me,” you said as you turned to face him. “it was surprisingly fun.”
jay smirked, his hands slipping into his pockets. “surprising, huh?”
“a little,” you admitted with a laugh.
just as you were about to turn away, jay called your name. when you glanced back, he was leaning casually against the doorframe, a playful smirk on his lips.
“so,” he said, his tone casual but curious, “did i change your perspective on slytherins?”
you smiled, tilting your head slightly. “yeah, you did. and i’m glad to know there’s still someone like you in slytherin.”
jay watched you walk away, shaking his head with a soft laugh. “a hufflepuff who’s this straightforward... ridiculous,” he muttered to himself, a small smile lingering on his lips as he headed down the hall.
© lvzrii4 — do not copy, translate, and repost my work.
#📁 ria files !#enhypen x reader#enhypen#enha x reader#enha#enhypen fluff#enha fluff#enhypen imagines#enha reactions#enhypen oneshots#park jeongseong#park jeongsong x reader#park jay#jay x reader#park jay x reader#jay fluff#jay enhypen#kpop#x reader#fluff#lee heeseung#sim jake#park sunghoon#kim sunoo#yang jungwon#nishimura riki#oneshot#enhypen reactions#harry potter
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Forgotten
Pure, unadulterated angst.
Reader x ?
A/N: Fourth Wing Spoilers, Mentions of depression
Word Count: 1.7k
Trying something different and asking for y'alls input. There will be a poll at the bottom for you to participate in the story if you're interested.
You watch as they rally around her. The way they are now busy watching her every move. Training her at every opportunity. They even made her a damn saddle for her dragon. They constantly train her on the mat, design daggers for her hands and strength.
Staring at the blazing fire in the common room, you slowly watch your surroundings and the comings and goings. But no one knows you’re there.
You’re invisible.
Not only to those who you thought cared about you, but also thanks to your signet. You huff a laugh as you mask yourself in the alcove that you’ve come to claim as your own.
All you must do is survive for a few more days before you’re free from them all. Free from any eyes looking for you, free from expectations, from them.
You always knew that you weren’t a priority. You always faded to the back of conversations, the back of the room. Left to your own devices, you let the resentment fester, the feeling of not being worthwhile.
No one ever described what a bond breaking between a dragon and a human felt like, but you could feel the way your dragon’s voice seemed to start feeling like it was underwater. The communication line between the two of you seeming to be drowning, the same way you felt yourself breaking apart at the seams.
As you arrived in formation when the alarms went off, you kept to yourself and your eyes straight ahead. Nothing in your mind registered anymore. The only thing behind your eyes was the festering of relentless anger.
As you go to leave formation and gather your things, you feel a tug on your arm. You look back to see Imogen tapping your shoulder.
“Xaden wants you for the headquarters squad.” You raise your eyes to hers and give a tight nod, nothing showing in your eyes.
While packing your things, you can’t help but wonder if you could just walk away from it all. If they think you’re dead, it wouldn’t matter at this point. With a plan forming in your mind, you pack everything that you deem important and leave the rest of your things behind. You close the door, not leaving a note or anything to find. You’ll either succeed in your plan or you’ll face a punishment you won’t return from.
You head to the flight field. Your dragon waits behind all the others. You huff a laugh at the fact that even your dragon knows how much you just want to fade into the background of it all.
You may not want to listen or watch the comradery of those you used to consider friends or even a lover, but you make sure to keep your eyes sharp. You watch as everything unfolds in front of you, until you watch as Xaden and Garrick stride towards you.
“I assume Imogen told you that you’re coming with us.” Xaden says, no pretense of niceties in sight.
“Yes.” Succinct. Final. There’s nothing more to say.
Both look at you seeming to take in the stone of your appearance, most likely confused by your lack of warmth they were so used to seeing. They exchange a look, but Xaden nods to you and strides away. You watch as they both stride towards Liam and Bodhi, all of them collectively looking back towards you. Even though you are eager to lash out at them, yell, scream, and cry, you just look back with a look of impassivity.
“Headquarters squad, let’s go.” Xaden calls as he mounts Sgaeyl.
You fly at the back of the riot, which your dragon does willingly. There’s no need for you to voice your feelings towards those in front of you when your dragon is already well aware.
The way you lag behind the others has you touching down at the lake about ten minutes after everyone else. As soon as you do, you’re met with a scene that causes you to snort in derision.
Of course Sorrengail wasn’t going to react well to things that were kept from her. You knew that from just watching the way the girl had treated her friends. Everyone is so preoccupied with the scene in front of them, they don’t realize you’ve landed.
Forgotten again.
The pattern is now almost comical. You watch, still mounted as Xaden tries to reason with Sorrengail, Liam trying to prove his friendship, Bodhi and Garrick waiting hesitantly.
Soon enough, it seems Xaden has calmed the little scribe down and everyone is mounting again. No one even realizes that you weren’t even aware of the gryphons either. No one tries to reassure you; you just must reassure yourself.
Once at Athbyne, you search the empty barracks on your own and honestly can’t believe your luck. The plan you have may just be easier to pull off than you ever thought.
While you’re exploring the rooms of the outpost, it seems the group has come to a decision to fight. As you make your way up to the wall where everyone is standing, you listen as Sorrengail goes into details on the venin you’re about to face.
Without caring to hear more, you turn and head back to your dragon. You’ll still execute your plan, but there’s no way that you’re going to leave innocent people out there to die. If you do, then you’re no better than anyone back at Basgiath.
As you sweep the perimeter of town, you’re met with a sight that breaks your own heart. A child has been left behind in the mess of confusion and fleeing. A little girl crying, curled up in a ball, wailing somone’s name to save her.
You can’t help the tears that swim in your eyes feeling like you’re watching yourself break into a million pieces.
You command your dragon to land and immediately pick up the girl. You begin running towards the mine where the rest of the townspeople are but stop in your tracks. Eyes flaring wide, you watch the venin completely drain Soleil and her dragon.
You turn again and sprint as fast as you can with the girl in your arms back to your dragon. You mount and command your dragon to bring you to where the rest of the townspeople are being gathered.
Once there, you bring the little girl to a woman who has her arms out and seems to be shouting the little girl’s name. Watching as she is now cradled and being comforted, you turn your back on the scene and take a deep breath. All you want is someone to comfort you like that. No, not just someone. One specific person.
You shake your head at the thought that causes your heart to crack open.
When you bring your head up, you’re met with red eyes and a shock of tattered purple robes.
“Such pain for such a young person.” The male voice hisses in a raspy voice that sounds like a distorted rumble.
You can’t hide the flash of recognition at the words that settle in your mind.
“Why don’t you take all of that pain and channel with me?” He says while beginning to circle around you.
Looking around, you realize that you’re alone. There aren’t any other riders or fliers in this area.
“You can show them what real power looks like and show them you aren’t one to be forgotten.” The words he’s spitting begin to swirl in your mind. The thought of being able to be powerful and not just a shell that’s been rejected hitting you square in the chest.
You shake your head trying to escape the hold that the venin’s words have seemed to settle in your mind.
“I won’t be controlled. By you or any power.” You spit through clenched teeth, trying to bite back from the hold that you can’t seem to shake from your mind.
“Your spirit is fierce. It would be so pleasant to break you.” The venin continues.
You find yourself reaching for the sheath that was given to you months ago with instructions not to use unless absolutely necessary. You suppose this situation would render it’s use necessary.
You double over with the sheer amount of power that the venin seems to be plying towards you. Without overthinking, you grab the hilt of the dagger and fling it. Your aim is the one thing you’ve never questioned about yourself and as you expect, it finds it home in the chest of the venin.
The creature’s eyes seem to blaze with the fury that you were able to best him. You find yourself crawling backwards trying to get as far away as possible.
Suddenly the din of the battle still going on around you crashes back into your mind. You look up to see dragons locked in battle, to your left and right civilians are still running for cover. Realizing that your own dragon’s focus is taken helping Deigh eviscerate a wyvern, you know this is when you have to make your decision.
You take a steadying deep breath, trying to calm yourself from the interaction with the venin. As soon as you feel your heartbeat return to something a little more normal, you’re off. You swing your pack on your back as you run. With one look back, you feel like your entire being is breaking, but you just can’t imagine staying anymore.
A slight panic tries to break through your thoughts, it must be your dragon knowing what you’re about to do. However, as you continue running, you feel your dragon’s connection growing thinner and thinner. There’s no reason to devote much thought to it as you keep going, if you die away from your dragon, so be it. No matter what, from now on it will be on your terms.
You steal into a thick cover of forest and throw your bag down. You slide down the trunk of a tree and collapse into a tired heap. At this point, the sun has crested on the horizon and night is beginning to set. Your mind can’t help but wonder if anyone has even realized that you’re gone. The last thought you have before sleep finds you is that your dragon can find a new and worthy rider.
#fourth wing fanfic#fourth wing x reader#xaden riorson#bodhi durran#garrick tavis#bodhi durran x reader#xaden riorson x reader#fourth wing xaden#garrick tavis x reader#the empyrean#the empyrean fanfic#fourth wing fic#fourth wing#bodhi fourth wing#garrick fourth wing#iron flame#iron flame fanfic
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hey! im not sure if this is a dumb question, but i know we dived into the interior design aspect of the modern au men, but i was wondering what their wedding aesthetic would be? would they want a say in the planning or let reader design the wedding of her dreams :)
not dumb at all 😤 that's a great question. since the pictures didn't stay in the layout I like for the interior design question, I'll just describe it, unless people want specific pics in which case I'll do that, I just think the layout is ugly 😡
gojo and reader:
he'll be pretty involved. I imagine his reader wouldn't really want to plan everything since she's pretty lazy lol, so he'll take control of things, otherwise their parents' will ruin everything and make it so basic and white they'd both hate it. gojo becomes a bridezilla. "I said I want ebony black! this is clearly ink black. are you blind? ugh what do I pay you for? so hard to find good help these days!"
he'd have it a classy mix of black and white, in a cathedral, very grand and awe inspiring. there has to be an organ. reader wears a black gown, dramatic veil and black roses. gojo is in a black suit, everyone else wears white.
it'd likely be a winter wedding and it'd make global news. the reception would be a formal event for the sake of the family rep and business, so it'll be stiff and clean and they hate it. but the after party is lit!!! it's a damn rave, everyone's going crazy. they'll party for a little while before slipping out for their honeymoon.
geto and reader:
something more intimate for sure. they follow the shinto traditional wedding, held at a shinto shrine, their parents and immediate relatives and friends, even some clients of theirs. riko attends. it's important for geto to pay respect to his culture and to traditions so he's pretty involved and they make it a fun thing where reader learns more about Japan.
reader wears a slightly pink kimono, like off-white. her sister is her maid of honour, and her dad still 'gives her away' in their own way. so it's a good mix of western traditions and Japanese.
they also have an after party with just their friends but it's not a party party, it's a casual visit to a local ramen place where they drink sake and talk about the good ole days.
choso and reader:
pretty likely to elope cause of reader. maybe do a Las Vegas shotgun wedding for funsies. but if they were to have a more traditional wedding cause of the Ryomens, it'd be boho, maybe on the beach, very light airy clothes, lots of bright colour flowers, lots of dancing and laughing. they’d exchange paintings of each other before the wedding. choso would absolutely cry seeing reader walking down the aisle
reader would wear a white but modern and immodest dress (not necessarily revealing but she wouldn’t believe in ‘covering up’). It’d be a pretty hip dress. choso would wear a loose white shirt and trousers to fit the beach, also not very traditional but not very wild either. on their wedding night, they share an intimate moment where they paint each other’s clothes/have sex. and those clothes are preserved and put on display in their art studio
toji and reader:
he wouldn’t be very involved. doesn’t really care about things like that. just lets her plan everything. she’ll ask for his input on things but ultimately ignore them lol. their wedding is rustic, maybe somewhere like a vineyard. they’ll have everything done at the venue, as in they won’t move around, they’re practical and toji was adamant about the wedding not being high maintenance and that’s fine with reader since she doesn’t care all that much either
the important thing is the landscape, a beautiful natural setting where fairy lights can be strung up, the tables will be arranged outside for dinner, jazz band playing in the background, dance floor packed. they’ll slow dance and have one of those moments where everyone fades away and toji stops grumbling and admits she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen and that he’ll never forget this day
how could they afford this you ask? well let’s just say sukuna snarks about how he gave Fushiguro so much money and yet it seems like none of it went to the wedding.
nanami and reader
reader is a bridezilla. her and gojo complain to each other about how no one ever appreciates the importance of flower arrangements and the difference between eggshell and ivory. she gets very anxious and panicky about everything. even has a breakdown a month or two before the wedding because she gained weight and was worried she wouldn’t fit in the dress. she’s crying on the bathroom floor telling nanami this must be a sign the universe doesn’t want them together and he should find someone better. like she’s sobbing and rocking back and forth. nanami sighs and tells her he loves her so much and not even the universe could ever get in the way of that. even reminds her about astronomy and how the stars were aligned on their first kiss and on the night he proposed etc etc. hearing the physics talk calms her down
seeing how stressed she is, he tells her he could take care of everything, or they could elope or just have a simple ceremony. he apologises for leaving her to do what she wanted because he thought that was best but he realised he should have been with her every step of the way. from then on, he’s very hands on.
they have the wedding at a botanical garden. there’s a wide field, beautiful hedges and a grand fountain, inside is very classy, intimate dining room, very old money style. they invite close friends and families only. it was originally going to be a big affair because of family stuff but nanami realised that was adding pressure to her so he, without mercy or giving room for argument, disinvited a boatload of people and faced the scrutiny of the relatives lol. gojo joked in his speech that he was surprised he was still invited and nanami muttered that he himself is surprised too.
sukuna and reader
big, grand affair because of the ryomens. one of those crazy rich asians wedding style. like five separate events. celebrity guests, bruno mars performed lol. they hate every second but they bare with it. none of it was organised by them, just pure ryomen family bs. and that’s fine with reader. she doesn’t care. the weddings doesn’t mean shit to her. she just likes being a ryomen now and how she’s legally recognised as sharing his wealth and power. the prenup negotiations was insane tho. don’t forget she’s a lawyer so that shit was intense and just relentless warfare. sukuna was willing to sign everything away, he had no intentions of ever divorcing her or cheating or any of that so he wasn’t worried. but obvi the family had to step in.
they actually had their own ceremony way before the official wedding/s, where they went somewhere far away idk like brazil and had a local tribe declare them spiritually married. they wanted to get married on their own terms and they don’t even place any romantic importance on marriage. no flimsy piece of paper is needed to tell sukuna that reader is his in every sense. so they celebrate two separate anniversaries, their official one which is very public and extravagantly celebrated every year, and their real one which they celebrate with a bottle of wine and rough sex.
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Hi can I please get some iv x reader christmas smut? 🫦
Post Christmas release
Smut of course
It’s been quite a busy couple of days. But holidays were always like that. It was fulfilling but also draining. Since this was your first time trying to cramp seeing both families in the span of five days in different countries. It was the most fun you ever had and seeing everyone and sharing something that hopefully would turn into a tradition was special.
“I got it”, Ivy quickly took the bags from your hands, pushing his bent leg up to poke your ass. “There are more in the back”, you tried to get past him but he stepped right by the door blocking your path. “Just go up, gorgeous, I will take care of it”, you gave him a not-impressed look before sighing and turning to your shared cottage. The family smell of your home instantly washed over you. Making part of the exhaustion chip away. The sound of paws making your lips curve up.
“Hello, sweetheart”, you kneeled, trying to contain an overly excited lab that had been kindly looked after by your elderly neighbor. “I missed you too girly”, you nuzzled her face, as she whined in excitement switching from turning in circles to trying and push you over. “Can we unpack tomorrow the thought alone makes me want to cry”, Ivy huffed dropping your luggage at the corner before Cinnamon chose him to be his victim.
“We are adults we can do what we want”, you smiled watching them two before Cinamon took off to her toy box a habit of hers when she was too happy. “I need peace and quiet for like a month after that”, Ivy sighed pulling you up before resting his head on your shoulder. Your fingers instantly moved beneath his sweater as you tracked your nails over his back muscles, making him sigh in delight.
“Do you know what else i need?”, he muttered against your neck, nibbling at your skin ever so slightly. You simply hummed in response and Ivy wasted no time bucking his hips against you. The hard-on rubbing against your thigh making you chuckle. He had fought morning wood each morning. But over the five days, you just couldn’t bring yourself to have sex at the same house your family was in. Especially when in your parents house there was no lock on the door and even more so it was never quiet or quick when it came to you both.
“I thought the blowjob sorted it”, you mused pulling back slightly. “In my childhood bedroom where I always wanted to fuck my girl?”, he asked as if you had just stated the most stupid thing ever. “No it made it worse”, he added not waiting for your answer. You chuckled softly, “Did we finally tick everything off your teen bucket list?”, you raised your eyebrow, pulling at the very roots of his hair.
“Maybe… you just…”, his hand moved to cup your breast before a warm snout pressed between you two making you both look to the side. “Bunbun not now”, Ivy muttered, “Mom and dad need some adult time now. It’s very serious”, he leaned forward scratching her ear before motioning for her to walk. You knew how it went he always left her in his office. Something about tainting innocent souls. You took your time however to slowly peal your clothes off. Dropping it piece by piece on the floor as you made your way to the kitchen.
“Yn”, his voice rang out making you bite your lips. “Where were we… shit…”, he halted, eyes darkening. “We didn’t have dessert at your parents”, you smiled, pulling your legs apart as you leaned back on the kitchen counter. “Fuck you’re…”, he ran his hand over his mouth. “Dripping on the counter for you, you should clean it up”, you smirked dipping your fingers into the wetness before motioning him over with the same damp fingers. He crossed the distance between you two in a couple of steps before leaning in to lick your fingers clean.
“Ivy”, you sighed, biting your lip as you watched him. “You’re a fucking vision”, he grunted, leaning in to kiss your collarbones. His fingers gripped your thighs. His pants were now slick with your arousal. “I would eat you out but… I need to”, he whispered. It was his rule, one he rarely broke. He always made sure you had an orgasm before he slipped between your legs.
“Get up here”, you pulled at his sweater, bringing it over his head, tossing it to the side. “I'm sorry”, he muttered, “Just give me your dick and shhhh”, you pressed your finger against his lips, “You’ll feel better after”, without any more words you unbuckled his pants, wrapping your hand around his hard cock, pumping him a handful of times, slowing spreading the precum around. “Oh fuck”, Ivy grunted bucking into your palm. “It looks painfully hard, baby, let me help”, you whispered, angling him against your walls, throwing your head back as the head of his cock stretched you out. “I can’t go all the way”, he grunted through gritted teeth, “i will cum on the spot”. “Please”, you whimpered, wrapping your legs around his hips, feeling him stretching your walls even more.
“Come here”, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he pulled your bare chest against his. Your nipples rubbing against him. “I love you so much you know that”, he mused, pressing himself even deeper. Your arms moved around his neck as you pressed yourself even closer to him.
“You feel”, ivy mused, “harder, please, fuck…”, you pleaded, and Ivy instantly picked up his thrusts. Making you moan out his name as you sank your nails into his biceps. “So wet”, he mused, nibbling at your shoulder as he bucked his hips, wedging his rock-hard dick into you over and over again not missing a beat. Fingers grasping your hips possessively. “Harder”, you urge him, feeling that cooling sensation building. “Baby”, he whined and you felt him throb as he pistoled into you with no mercy hitting just the spot you need to fall over the edge and then all you could feel was a throb after a throb as he spilled inside you. Lips pressed in a messy kiss as you both clung to one another. Riding the orgasm together till the very last blissful tingle. The lazy smile on his lips warmed your heart even more.
“Good?”, you ask brushing some of the hair away from his face. “Good?”, he asked, “Fucking amazing”, Ivy chuckled nuzzling against your neck. “You are my salvation”, he sighed, “okay, post orgasm poet”, you chuckled and Ivy instantly squeezed your ass pulling you full down onto him, making you whine, “carful, princess”.
#sleep token smut#sleep token iv smut#sleep token imagine#sleep token x reader#sleep token x you#sleep token fanfiction#sleep token iv imagine#sleep token iv x you#sleep token iv x reader
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would you be willing to do Tulpar crew getting sick headcanons 👀?
like, who’s popping zinc at the first signs of A Symptom, who burns themself into the ground ignoring it, who’s man flu about it, etc
anon !! gives u a big kiss i love this question sm
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curly
has a pretty strong immune system and only gets sick about once a year, if even that. but when he does, he's not much different from a sickly victorian child withering away from consumption
he lives alone, so any attention he can't get from friends or family checking in on him he gets from social media. posts selfies of himself sick in bed and captions them on his story as "feelin like shit lol anyone else sick rn?" immediate 30+ likes in the first few minutes of being posted
all the while is absolutely downing those emergen-c immune booster supplements with coconut water for the electrolytes. he's trying to get over this cold as fast as humanly possible because honestly it sucks and is super inconvenient
jimmy
just has the worst immune system. gets absolutely sick as a dog— pallid skin, sunken eyes, the works. he's pretty used to it at this point and just expects himself to get sick 3-5 times a year at minimum
at the same time he'll go about his day as usual, now just twice as irritable. spreads his shit to everyone he meets because he refuses to stay home. what, he's just supposed to put his life on hold because of a little cough?
the most he'll do in terms of medicine is down 80mL of nyquil (way too much) before bed and hope for the best
anya
a complete mother hen when friends and family are sick, but the second she falls ill, her executive function is all over the place
stays home, but tries to keep herself busy anyway. uses the extra time to catch up on household chores, to rearrange some cabinets, or to catch up on some of her favorite shows
tries to eat healthy in the meantime, as she knows it'll make her feel better faster. but sometimes she just can't help herself and has to have either a pint of ice cream or a full bag of chips for dinner. she's allowed !!
swansea
the last thing he wants is to be fussed over. will insist he's fine to anyone that shows concern, but is still sure to take care of himself behind the scenes
is a hardcore vick's vaporub truther. the second he feels congested or has a tickle in his throat, he's slathering that shit on like its nobody's business. also he just really enjoys the smell of menthol
can sleep for days when sick, and honestly, he probably needs it. his wife thought he was dead once but it was just a combination of the cold and sleep apnea
daisuke
big believer in the whole "feed a cold, starve the flu" mentality. while he himself isn't the best cook, his mother makes sure to feed him lots of broth-based soups and high-fiber foods
he drinks a lot of tea with lemon and honey, usually making a pot at a time and just keeping it his bedside table for easy refills
big cough drop fan, specifically the ones that taste like cherry candy and nothing at all like actual medicine. this of course usually leads to him finishing the whole bag in one day, but it's just an excuse to buy more in other fun flavors
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THIS WAS REALLY FUN tysm for your request! if anyone else has any requests; my asks are open !! ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ⁾⁾
#mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#mouthwashing headcanons#ask
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AULD LANG SYNE
For old time's sake — Alastor spends the new year remembering a person from his distant past.
STORY TAGS Angst, childhood friends, flashback, happy ending but not really but everyone's happy, no smut, gender neutral reader, no mention of y/n
“𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝,
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍?
𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝,
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚎?”
New years meant a lot to Alastor. In his first year in Hell, it gave him the opportunity to see his first extermination day. Twenty-four hours of bloodshed delivered by Heaven's savages dressed in gray. The stroke of midnight signaled another year for him to spend terrorizing Hell and crushing the next incompetent power hoarder under his boot.
But after his untimely absence, celebrating the new year had taken on a different meaning for him. Charlie had a habit of celebration, she likes holding celebrations, yes, but more than that she loved reviving celebrations. From Valentine's Day, Easter, even until Christmas — not even Hell's counterpart Sinsmas — did she persuade her hotel patrons to celebrate. New Year's Eve was today's victim, even the impending danger of this year's extermination day wasn't enough to dissuade her.
"Alright, everyone! We have a few minutes left, and I just wanted to take a moment to make a toast!" Charlie happily stood up, raising her slim tall glass of champagne.
"For all of you who have been with me since the beginning, for those of you who have stayed with this hotel even if, uh, things were not so great." Vaggie held her shoulder with a reassuring smile.
"For those of you who are here despite our differences in beliefs and for those that we've lost. This hotel would've never been where it is if it weren't for all of you." It was a sentimental moment, with Charlie trying to wipe the tears that were threatening to spill out of the corner of her eyes.
"So, everyone! Let's spend tonight together and remember those that we've lost. Let's continue to live happily as friends and family! To a happy new year!" Each resident held up their glasses, chirping back her greetings before being absorbed back into their own conversations.
"Those that we've lost, huh?" Alastor mused to himself as he snuck off to the hotel's balcony. He's had enough socializing for one night, he could use a little break and a good glass of whiskey.
Outside the hotel was the same view as it always was, even if Charlie had her way in the hotel, the rest of Hell seemed more busy with preparing themselves for the annual cleanse. The smell of sulfur was a little more tolerable tonight, the noise downtown wasn't as bad as it usually was, and the harsh lights of the city were muted tonight. It was the calm before the storm, a moment of peace and a taste of what a quiet night would be like.
It gave him room to think and let his mind wander.
Back in the simpler days when he used to celebrate the arrival of a new year with other people in a nicer house than his, dressing up to the nines and pretending to have a happy family. A classic scene from his childhood to his early teen years that brought a smile that wasn't so difficult to etch on his face.
His family consisted of him and his mother, anyone else he may have forgotten to mention was rotten scum. Besides his blood-related family, however, were the people of his old neighborhood before he had moved into the city. Lovely folks the lot of them, all smiling and happy like they hadn't had a care in the world. It was especially true when they celebrated New Year's. He remembered lots of fireworks, and neighborhood parties where families either ate inside their houses or hosted a generous party for others to attend. Kids running around before being scolded by their parents, back to bed once midnight strikes, they've stayed up late for long enough they say.
It was in one of those celebrations he met you.
Odd little thing you were, traveling with your folks around the country, actors in those silent films his family sometimes watched in the local theater. They were eccentric, often going around in random out-of-the-way neighborhoods to spend your vacations away from the hectic cities. You were often left alone by the other children, you were new and nobody was brave enough to approach you and your odd family. You were simply that kid their mothers would force them to play with.
Alastor was similar in some regards.
His mother often went on long tirades about how every single kid in the neighborhood avoided her son like the plague and she hasn't got a clue why. Her son was obedient, kind, and more respectful than the others, so why was it he was always on his own?
Alastor chuckled at the thought. If only his mother knew how much of a devil he was, a little hellion who punched kids like there was no tomorrow before scaring them out of their wits. She would faint if she knew!
But that was why when his mother saw you, she had the grand idea of putting you and him together, ain't no better way to force foster friendship between two outcasts.
"Be nice okay? I'll be right over there servin' up the jambalaya." She ruffled his hair before leaving the both of you in an awkward silence. Alastor considers it the first experience he had with dealing with difficult people, and as the first of this instance, he was out of his element. He didn't like how quiet you were, he didn't like how you didn't mind it either. His family was always loud, in more ways than one, but his mother had always showered him with a lively home, one filled with music and smiles. Weren't you supposed to come from a couple of actors? Surely you had to have some sort of social bone in your body.
"I'm Alastor." He greets with a smile, you'd turn your head lazily toward him and take a moment to stare at him.
"Green doesn't suit you." Not even your name, no. The first words you've ever addressed him with were about his outfit. Mind you, he was wearing what his mother bought him for Christmas so he was understandably miffed, but you said it so blandly it didn't sound like it was an insult. It was just a statement, green in fact, didn't suit him.
"That face doesn't suit you." He narrowed his eyes, expecting you to cry or punch him, either way, he was prepared for.
"That missing tooth doesn't suit you." That was neither crying nor punching, what's next? He immediately slapped his hands over his mouth to cover it, last month, or was it the week before Christmas? Somewhere along those days, he had knocked his tooth out in a scuffle, one of the older kids had decided to pick a fight with him and Alastor had a few things going against him.
"What's wrong with that?" His voice came out muffled behind his hand.
Even when you met all he could remember was indifference on your end but for a moment he could remember how you stifled your laughter at the sight of him hiding his teeth. He doesn't know what his mother saw during your interaction that night but he remembers being dragged out to play with you whenever she was invited over by your mother for chitchats over beignets and coffee.
You were a strange child, you continued to comment on his fashion tastes and all you did was draw all day. No wonder no one wanted to play with you, you were no fun at all! For a conversationalist such as Alastor, it was as if he was put up against a brick wall, it's not even funny at the time, he remembered constantly falling into awkward bouts of silence even after trying to rile you up into bickering with him.
"You really should consider wearing red more often." There you went again, with your fashion statements all the while you kept your eyes glued on your sketchbook.
"You should consider makin' friends than whatever you're doin'." You shook your head.
"I'm fine, thank you." Kicking rocks all afternoon was hardly entertaining but he'd rather take that than sitting by the staircase. He had half a mind to just snatch your sketchbook from your hands and see what was so tantalizing about it.
Actually,
"Hey!" You didn't put up much of a fight when he did just that, only sending him a glare that warned him not to do anything he'd regret. It was a sketch of the house in front of you two, unfinished and rough but in the eyes of a child it looked like something that came out of a museum.
"You drew this?" He asked, flipping through other pages filled with illustrations of flowers, sceneries you've seen, picturesque locations you've been to, and random household items.
"Yes, now give it back." You snatched the sketchbook right out of his hands, flipping back to the sketch you've made. You clicked your tongue at the stray pencil mark that you accidentally made when he grabbed ahold of it, not being able to notice him sitting beside you and staring at your drawing until he was right there. That afternoon something shifted, Alastor began to ask you things about yourself. About your life and passion for arts, even the places you've been to. It was his first glimpse of the world outside of his city, stories about snowy mountains and humid canyons, skyscrapers lining up the streets, and the sound of vendors gathered in tight alleys.
You and Alastor grew to tolerate each other until that tolerance morphed into you and him actively seeking out each other's company.
Two odd ducks — he was often seen sneaking off to sit in a random meadow or empty field with you lagging behind him. Alastor did the talking and watched as you captured the beauty of his hometown within your sketchbook.
"Do you draw people?" Alastor saw fancy portraits in the houses of sugar barons and cotton kings so he'd expected you to have some drawings of your own but surprisingly, you didn't. Even with drawing bustling cities you actively try to avoid drawing people, at most, you'll draw silhouettes of people. Clumps of shadow meant to imitate a crowd.
"No."
"Why not?"
"They're too difficult. If you get one thing wrong it'll look messed up entirely." You held up your sketchbook against the landscape, trying to see if you had missed anything.
"Have you tried?"
"I drew my parents once, they're actors but even I could tell they had a hard time trying to like it." Alastor leaned against the grass, staring at the setting sun far beyond the horizon.
"Well, practice makes perfect. If you wanna be an artist you gotta try harder than that." You replied with a half-hearted hum, much more invested in your work than what he was saying.
"What do you want to be anyway? You wouldn't do so bad as a boxer." Perish the thought, he'd never. His dreams were far beyond his neighborhood and much farther beyond his city. To be heard by the masses, his name spread far and wide, that's right, a radio broadcaster. Starring in late-night crime shows and afternoon suspense series, in game shows and commercials. He'd be a household name! That way he'd help his dear old mother out of the throes of misery and be remembered by all.
"I'm destined for radio, I just know it." He said with confidence. How true those words were, there was never a doubt in Alastor's mind that he would make it, one way or another it was him against the world and he fucking won.
"Seems right for a chatterbox."
"Still, that doesn't change the fact that you need to start practicin'. Momma said she'll consider puttin' me in school but if you ask me I'd rather sell newspaper. At least we'll be earnin' somethin'." Your hands froze over the paper, bothered by something that he said but he couldn't tell what it was.
"School's starting soon, huh?" There was a solemn tone in your voice that he didn't understand back then.
"You don't like school?"
"You can say that." Alastor elbowed your shoulders at your reply.
"Wanna sell newspapers with me? I'll ask momma and then we'll go and ask your folks." You grabbed onto your sketchbook and began to pack up your things, getting rid of the weeds that were stuck on your socks.
"I don't think that's possible." Alastor stood up and followed right behind you, blissfully unaware of the turmoil you were currently facing. Your family was just about ready to leave New Orleans back then, aiming to provide you with formal education that your parents gathered up their savings on.
It was funny how big of a deal it seemed like to the both of you when your parents broke the news, you two even had a spat if he remembers correctly. That's the thing, however, it had been so long ago he couldn't even remember what you looked like. Not the color of your eyes, your hair, not anything. Half of what he remembers is either made up by an overactive imagination or half-truths he filled in to close any gaps. He was a child, it was in the early 1900s, and you were only in New Orleans for less than a year, he was surprised he could even remember you.
What he did remember was the single torn page you gave him before you left.
A portrait of him.
It was messy, filled with mistakes, and clearly something an amateur drew, you had all but cried when you were giving it to him. But for as rough as it was, no matter how disproportionate it might've looked to a seasoned professional, Alastor liked it. Like was a strong word but it was the truth. A childish appreciation of something objectively worthless. It was no Picasso, but it meant more than all those gaudy paintings tucked away in galleries. For something you were admittedly bad at you were more than willing to try, your parents told him you've crumpled more than half of your sketchbook's pages before you got something you were satisfied with.
He couldn't see any of your indifference during your day of departure, you and him stayed tethered to one another until the moment you had to leave.
"Let's see each other again someday!" Alastor shouted as you waved goodbye, he was holding the portrait between his arms, too scared to leave it unattended.
"I'll be waiting!" You shouted back.
As happy as you both tried to be, hoping to find the time to see each other again, you two never did. Your family never gave out your new address and while you had his, you never reached out. More than that, his family moved to a different part of the city when their financial situation went down the rocks due to a fool. So even if you did send a letter afterward, it wouldn't have reached Alastor.
That portrait you gave him soon got lost during the move, maybe he misplaced it somewhere or it was blown away by the wind into a crevice in his old house, never to be seen again.
You would've died decades ago so maybe you were up in Heaven enjoying a life without worries, you were always the voice of reason between the two of you. If you were somehow down here in Hell with him, then considering you hadn't reached out to him despite his notoriety it would mean you'd rather stay incognito, that or you were dead.
As distraught as he was back then, with time you became someone who was just a part of his childhood. Not meant to be anything more than just a memory that he can go back to reminisce and sometimes that's just alright. He'd hate to rope you into the mess he was up to during the 30's, maybe that's part of the reason he wasn't that keen on meeting you again.
Would he have wanted to? It was a nice thought, he wanted to know if you got somewhere within the art industry, he'd like to catch up and tell you all the things he's been up to. But other than that, he doubted there was anything more to say.
"Hey Smiles! Charlie was callin' everyone for the countdown. Get your ass in 'ere!" Alastor downed the last bit of whiskey in his glass before reconvening with the rest. There was no need for hypotheticals, he was already busy with the mess of living an afterlife with a merry band of misfits.
Being a memory for someone isn't such a bad thing, not when you were part of the very few that he looked back on fondly.
All he could hope for was you looking back at those days with just as much fondness as he has.
“𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚎, 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛,
𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚎,
𝚠𝚎’𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚎𝚝,
𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚎.”
╭┉┉┅┄┄┈•◦_•◦❥•◦_
One final gift from me before the new year hits, Auld Lang Syne always makes me cry whenever I hear it being played especially during New Year's Eve. It reminds me a lot of the people I used to be friends with but have since grown apart from. Not really due to any fights or arguments, just drifting apart in general. But they're happy and I'm happy (mostly), if anything I'm thankful that I was a part of their life, as short as it may have been. With that, I wish you all a very prosperous new year.
#hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#writing#alastor#alastor x you#alastor the radio demon#hazbin alastor#oneshot#hazbin x you#hazbin x reader#hazbin x y/n
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Not So Perfect Life
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~4k
Warnings: angst, fearing for your life, slight torture, fluff at the end
Summary: According to you, Sam lives a mundane life with his brother who is a very skilled mechanic. It doesn’t take long for his secrets to bubble to the top, threatening everything and everyone he loves.
Square Filled: zip ties for @badthingshappenbingo
Author’s Note: i pulled inspiration from a tiktok video! apparently, it's from a turkish tv series, but i am unsure of the name of it.
x
The empty lot next to your apartment has finally been bought, and one of your favorite stores has been built in its place. You make the most of your money by buying Barbie and Bratz dolls and transforming them into animated characters. You’ve taken an old Barbie doll and made her into Maleficent. Someone wanted you to make a doll version of themselves, so you did that with a Bratz doll. To make extra money, you work at a diner for two nights a week so that you can focus on your doll-making career most of the time.
Sam was supposed to meet you twenty minutes ago, but he’s still not here. You check the time on your phone and sigh silently before walking over to the doll section of the store. While you love transforming an already-made Barbie doll, you do enjoy starting from scratch. The store has different kinds of blank dolls that have nothing on them that you can do anything with.
You grab three of them and put them into your cart.
“I’m here!” You turn and see Sam jogging over to you. “I’m sorry I’m late. I was helping my brother.”
There is a splotch of blood on his cheek, and you frown when you see it.
“You have blood on your cheek.”
“Oh.” He quickly wipes it away. “Shave nick. I’m sorry I’m late.”
“I’m just glad you’re here now,” you smile. You walk to the fabric section and browse the different colors. “So, what did Dean need?”
“What?”
You look at him. “You said Dean needed help. With what?”
Sam opens and closes his mouth like a fish, suddenly nervous. “Oh, you know… His job.”
“You don’t know how to work on cars.”
“I know the basics.”
“So, you’re telling me your brother, the very skilled mechanic, needed help on a car he was working on so he asked you?” He nods. “Okay.”
Sam hates lying to you but what else is he going to tell you? You get everything you need to create at least a dozen more dolls and check out at the register.
“So, I was thinking while I make my dolls, we can have a movie night. What do you say? Care to spend the night?” When Sam doesn’t answer, you look at him to see him on his phone. “Sam?”
“Right, sorry, Y/N. You know I’d love to, but Dean needs me right now.”
“With another car?”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I know I said I’d spend all day with you, but I have to go. I’ll call you later.”
He kisses you quickly before practically sprinting off. You trust Sam with your life but there’s something about him lately that has your red flag radar going off. He’s lying about something, but you don’t know what.
Sam promised to call but he never did. In fact, you go days without hearing from him. It’s Friday and you just got back from your diner job early so you can get a head start on your dolls. You put on The Nightmare Before Christmas before starting your Sally doll. Weaving the hair in is the most time-consuming of it all, so that’s what you start with.
Your phone rings and you smile when you see Sam’s name and picture pop up. He has his own life and you don’t ever want to be clingy and annoying, so you give him his space. You love him so much so those few days with no contact are like water under the bridge.
“Hey, baby,” you answer.
“Hey, are you busy this weekend?”
“I’m just making my dolls. Why?”
“I have some free time. Dean and I are heading to California for the weekend. Want to come with us? He has some business there, and I was thinking we could go to the beach. Just me and you, sunshine, seafood, and maybe a few kisses.”
“Wow, you know how to butter a girl up. When do you leave?”
“I can pick you up in a few hours.”
“I’ll pack. I’m so excited. I’ll see you soon.”
Forget Sally. You turn off the movie and run to your room to get packed. A few hours later, Sam knocks on your door while Dean waits in the car. You open the door and jump into Sam’s arms with a huge smile on your face.
“This is going to be a fun weekend,” you grin.
He kisses you a few seconds longer than usual. “Come on.”
He grabs your bags while you get into the backseat of the car, and you smile at Dean.
“Thank you for letting me come with you guys.”
“The more the merrier,” Dean says.
Sam gets into the back seat with you, and he pulls you close as Dean drives away. Dena turns the music up just to drown you two out so he doesn’t have to hear how gushy you two are going to be.
“So, I was thinking we could go at night when the sun is going down, and we’ll walk the entire pier and watch the sunset. I’ve been to this area before, and I know this seafood joint you’d love.”
“I already love it. Do you want to know what I’ve never done but want to try?”
“What is it?”
You lean in closer to whisper in his ear. Not that Dean can hear you anyway. “I’ve never had sex on a beach before.”
Sam laughs and runs his hand up and down your back. “I have. Sand gets everywhere, but you’re worth it.”
He slides his hand in your hair and kisses you, keeping it short and sweet for his brother. Since it’s night by the time you get to the hotel, you decide to have a chill night in with the brothers before planning stuff for tomorrow. They don’t have a lot of money which is why you and Sam don’t have your own room, but you’re happy regardless.
“Can we go to the beach today?” you ask over breakfast.
Sam and Dean look at each other and have some sort of secret conversation with their eyes. Dean waves as he sips his coffee.
“Go. You two have fun. I have some business to do. I’ll call you later.”
“Yay!”
You pack for an eventful day at the beach, having everything you need and more in your tote bag. However, you don’t get to use most of it because your fun-filled day at the beach isn’t anything like you expect it to be. At first, you took some time to tan and soak in the rays before you wanted to go swimming.
“Sam, let’s go swimming.”
“Give me one second.” He’s on the phone. “It’s Dean.”
You shrug and walk to the shore, shivering when the cold water washes over your feet. If you get it over with, you’re entire body will get used to the temperature instead of one part at a time. You run the rest of the way in and squeal when the chill seeps into your bones.
“Come on, Sam!”
Sam nods but doesn’t say anything in response. He continues to talk to his brother over the phone, and you look away with a sigh. It only takes one time before Sam gets caught in the current, and he spends most of his time with his nose in his phone, claiming he’s helping his brother with something.
Never have you ever felt like you were second best in this relationship, but there’s a first time for everything…
After a few hours of swimming by yourself, you get fed up. You walk over to Sam who just put his phone away, but the smile is lost on his face.
“I want to leave, Sam.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m good now. Dean can manage without me.”
“That’s good, but I’m done for today. Take me back.”
Sam sighs and packs up anyway, hating the way he makes you feel. He can see the disappointment in your eyes, and he hates that he put it there. If only you knew what he was really up to, you might be a bit more understanding. Still, he’d rather this than suck you into his toxic life.
“Y/N, I’m really sorry,” Sam says once you walk into the hotel room.
“I’m not mad, Sam, I just thought this was a vacation. If you need to work with Dean, I have no problem with that. I would have let you two come on your own.”
“I know, and it is a vacation.”
“Dean’s a mechanic. What kind of business does he have out here that he needs your help with?”
“It’s complicated.” You sigh and look away from him, but he cups your jaw and brings your gaze back to him. “We took care of everything today. Tomorrow, I am all yours. We can go to the beach again if you want, or we can go shopping or whatever you’re feeling up for. Okay?”
“Can we watch the sunrise on the pier?”
“Yes we can, and maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll show you how messy beach sex is.”
You can’t stay upset at him for too long. “Okay, deal.”
Sam leans down and kisses you, and you wrap your arms around his neck. Dean gets home late but you’re already fast asleep in your bed. You don’t know what wakes you up, but you open your eyes to see Sam and Dean dressed and standing by the table. They’re whispering and trying to be quiet, but you can hear every word they’re saying. Sam is keeping so many secrets from you, so you don’t move a muscle to make it look like you’re still sleeping.
“Are you sure the nest is out there?”
“Yes. I talked to the locals and that’s the only place they all singled out.”
“Okay. I have to be back before the sunrise. I promised Y/N we’d watch it at the beach.”
“I can’t promise that I’ll get you back before then, but we need to go now before someone else dies.”
Sam looks back at you before leaving with his brother. Okay, that’s not what a mechanic does. Are they worried someone is going to die? You have to find out what they’re up to. You quickly get changed and follow the brothers down to the parking garage where the Impala is, and you pull out your phone to call an Uber.
It takes five minutes for it to get to you but that’s not enough time for Sam and Dean to get far.
“I’ll pay you extra if you follow a Chevy Impala.”
You tell the driver where to go, and you’re able to catch up to them on the freeway. They head north, far more than you thought they would go. They end up in the woods, but the Uber driver is only willing to go so far.
You hand him a handful of twenties “Thank you for doing this.”
You get out and finish the rest of the trek on foot. You’re not sure where Sam and Dean went, but there’s only one thing in these parts. While on the drive, you looked up the history of the woods, and according to local legend, there is a cabin in the woods responsible for a bunch of paranormal activity. If Sam’s big secret is that he’s a ghost hunter, then you really overestimated him.
You push past the thick trees and bushes until you come to a clearing. A cabin with a lot of windows stands big and tall and the lights are on inside, allowing you to see everything inside. The cabin is a bit run down as it tends to do with age, but there are broken windows and doors from either vandalism or old age.
The Impala is off to the right so you know Sam and Dean are somewhere around here. You walk closer to the cabin and gasp when you see a man fly across the room. Sam walks in with a thick blade in his hands, and he rushes at the man like he’s pissed at him. He tackles the man to the ground but the man kicks your boyfriend off him easily. Sam stands and punches the man as hard as he can twice before bringing the blade down on him.
You’re shocked and horrified to see someone you love so much brutally murder another man without cause. Blood, bruises, and cuts adorn Sam’s face and arms, and Dean isn’t any better. He walks in holding the same kind of blade with just as many cuts on him.
“One of them smoked out before I could get to him,” Dean says.
“Great,” Sam sighs. He cracks his neck and just so happens to look out the broken door and right into your horrified eyes. “Shit.”
You turn and flee from the scene as fast as you can, ignoring the whips and stings from branches smacking you in the face. You reach the road and panic when you don’t see a single car, and you take out your phone to see if you can get a signal.
“Come on,” you freak.
Light shines in the distance, and you start running toward the headlights. The car doesn’t slow down when they see you, and they don’t care if you’re in need of their help. They zoom past you, and you yell out in frustration in fear. You look back to see if Sam or Dean are following you, but there is no one there.
Another set of headlights shines in the distance, and you wave your arms frantically. They slow down at your signs of distress, and you hop into the front seat without seeing who is behind the wheel.
“Thank you so much. Can you--”
You scream when you see Sam sitting next to you.
“Please, just let me explain.”
“Please don’t hurt me,” you cry.
“I won’t hurt you, Y/N. Just let me explain.”
His words aren’t connecting with you because all you can see is him killing that poor man. You try the door handle but he's locked it and engaged the child locks, and that causes you to cry more. Sam’s heart breaks at seeing you so terrified of him but this is necessary. He can’t bring you back to town and have you go to the authorities so he has no other choice but to take you back to the cabin where his brother is.
He parks outside of it and gets out, but you refuse to follow. Sam walks to the other side of the car and opens the passenger door.
“Come on, Y/N. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Sam reaches into the car and grabs your arm, and that’s when all hell breaks loose.
“No, please don’t! Please!” you cry. You fight to get away but Sam’s grip is tight. This is breaking his heart but it’s necessary. “Let me go! I won’t tell anyone. Please!”
“Y/N, would you stop fighting me?”
You fall to your knees as if that will prevent you from going inside the cabin, but Sam just picks you up instead. He brings you inside and sets you down, and you jump away from him and fall onto the dirty couch. Dean walks into the room when he hears you sob, and he sighs.
Sam walks off to the side with his brother while keeping you in his line of vision. He can’t have you running away.
“She doesn’t know what we do. She thinks you’re a mechanic.”
“Now is as good a time as any to tell her, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, if she’ll let me.” Sam walks over to you like you’re a wounded animal, and he sits on the coffee table. “Y/N, please…” He reaches out to touch you but you jerk away from him in fear. You jump to the other side of the couch and curl up into a ball. “I’m not a murderer, Y/N.”
You look around the cabin and see the bodies of the men they came here to kill.
“I’m on it,” Dean says.
“He’s not a mechanic, is he?” you mutter.
“No, he isn’t. Not professionally, at least. If you’d let me explain--”
“Please let me go, Sam,” you beg and cry. “I have a family and a little sister and parents who love me. Please let me go.”
“I’m not going to hurt you. Baby, you need to calm down.”
“Don’t call me that!” you yell.
Sam knows he’s not going to get anywhere if you’re like this so he decides to let you cool off and help Dean with the bodies. He stays within sight the entire time to make sure you don’t go anywhere, and it’s not like you can fight him off. He’s twice your size and three times stronger than you. Not to mention he has a brother who is similar in strength and size. You wouldn’t get far and they know it.
By the time the brothers are done, you’re already asleep on the couch. Sam sighs when he sees you. This is so not how he wanted to tell you about the supernatural. He wanted to take you on a date, probably in the Bunker, and ease you into it. Now you’re scared half to death and refuse to listen to him.
He brought in a blanket to take care of the last body not knowing that Dean had already done it. Instead, he drapes it over your body gently. You don’t stir and he should leave you alone. He should turn away and wait for you to wake up, but he can’t help himself. He runs the back of his fingers down your cheek. The slight movement is enough to wake you up, and you jerk away from him in fear.
“Dean is getting food and water for you.” You don’t answer him. Sam takes the food when Dean comes back, and he sets it in front of you. Your stomach is growling but you don’t move an inch. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out. Look, those men you saw were demons. They were monsters. I don’t hurt innocent people.”
“Like I’m going to believe a word you say,” you glare.
Sam sighs and rubs his hands together. “I love you, Y/N.”
Again, you don’t answer. The brothers can’t bring you back to town so they set up shop in the living room. They’re light sleepers so if you’re going to do something, you have to do it without making a single noise. An hour after Sam and Dean have fallen asleep, you decide to make your move.
Dean is sleeping on the other smaller couch but Sam is sleeping on the floor right next to your spot. You hook your legs on the back of the couch and slip off the back as quietly as you can. You tiptoe to the front door and open it, wincing when it creaks. You look back but Sam and Dean don’t move.
The first steps out of the cabin are slow and careful until you get to the treeline, and then you make a beeline for the road. You look back to see if they’re following you which they’re not. You turn back only to run right into a man’s chest. He reaches out to steady you so that you don’t fall on your ass.
“I wanted a Winchester,” the man’s eyes turn pitch black, “but you’ll do nicely.”
In the next second, you’re knocked unconscious. When you come to, the first thing you notice is the zip ties on your wrists. You’re tied to a chair that’s bolted to the concrete ground. Even if you can escape, you’re too weak to move. The man who took you, the one with black eyes, walks into the room and over to you.
“Please let me go,” you whisper.
“Good, you’re awake. I love hearing humans scream. Music to my ears.”
“Please don’t. I won’t tell anyone. Just let me go,” you beg.
The man doesn’t listen and grabs the back of your chair. He shoves his hand into your body and touches your soul, and you tip your head back and scream as loud as you can. He only takes three vials of your soul, but that’s enough to knock you out again. Your entire body aches when you wake up again, and there are two men in the room instead of one.
“I need more of her soul.”
“Stop being so fucking greedy. You’re using it too fast. Lucifer won’t like that. Plus, she’s Sam Winchester’s girlfriend. He won’t be too pleased if she dies too soon.” Both men walk over to another person that’s tied up. How have you not noticed him before? “This one is empty. Toss it and grab another one.”
The second man has no choice but to listen. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let the darkness overcome you for a third time.
“Hey, Y/N, open your eyes. Come on, wake up.”
You moan tiredly and open your eyes to see Sam kneeling in front of you.
“Sam,” you whisper, barely audible.
“I’m right here, baby. I’m going to get you out of here.”
He takes out a knife to use on your zip ties, but you see someone enter the room… and it isn’t Dean.
“Sam, behind you.”
He stands and turns to face the man who took you.
“Looks like I scored the jackpot. I knew you’d come for her,” the man smirks.
“Yeah, you’re right. I did come for her, but it’s not going you be you who leaves this place alive.”
A fight breaks out between the man and Sam. He has the same kind of blade as he did in the cabin, and that’s apparently a weapon that hurts the man. Sam slices the man’s arm and punches him in the face. Without even touching him, the man uses some kind of power to shove Sam into the wall. Sam tries to move but he can’t, and the man laughs at his helplessness.
He doesn’t get enough time to gloat because Dean enters the room with a sharp knife. He flips the knife so he’s holding the blade, and he tosses it at the man. The blade sticks out of his back, and his entire body lights up orange and gold.
The man falls to the ground, dead, and Sam is released from his hold. Sam runs over to you and cuts the zip ties off, and he scoops you into his arms. You have no fight left in you. If Sam is going to kill you, then he should do it now before you gain your strength back.
Sam and Dean leave before Lucifer hears about this, and they take you to the Bunker knowing Castiel is going to be there to heal you. They didn’t keep you long enough to take a lot of your soul but it still takes a lot out of you.
When you wake up, you’re in some kind of infirmary. None that you’ve ever seen before. Sam is on the other side of the room whispering to Dean, and you make eye contact with Dean. The older brother clears his throat and gestures to you. Dean leaves the room and Sam walks over to you carefully. When you show no signs of freaking out, he sits on the edge of the bed.
Sam doesn’t go into a ton of detail so as to not overwhelm you, but he does explain about demons and a bit about their hunting lives.
“I never wanted to hurt you. This is why I didn’t tell you what I did.”
“You scared me,” you whisper.
“I know, and I am so sorry. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I love you so much.”
“I forgive you,” you sniffle. You saved me.”
Sam reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll always save you. I’ll answer any questions you have, but you should get some sleep right now.”
“Will you stay with me?”
“Of course.”
He kicks off his shoes and slides into the small bed with you, and you snuggle into his side. Despite him scaring you, Sam has always and will always feel like home to you. You feel safe enough to fall asleep in his arms like you’ve done so many times before.
x
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#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester fanfic#sam winchester fic#sam winchester fluff#sam winchester angst#supernatural#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fluff#supernatural angst
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Frozen x BATB Yuletide Exchange 2024 Master List
This year, we have 12 fanfics and one piece of fan art for the exchange! You can find the entire collection here. Links to individual fics with descriptions are below.
Frozen
A little expertise @lyricalark (@snowberriesromanoff)
(Anna/Kristoff, T)
Kristoff is a wedding planner who took over his mom Bulda's business when she retired. She's always said she'll come out of retirement to plan his wedding but he's not holding his breath. Anna is a bride-to-be like any other, except she's clearly not happy and her fiancé Hans doesn't see or doesn't care to see. And Kristoff is starting to care. Or, the Kristanna Wedding Planner AU
Fir-needles and Crocuses @be_my_druidess (@true--north)
(Anna & Elsa; Anna/Kristoff, T)
Anna and Elsa invite Kristoff to spend Christmas with them.
How You Kiss an Arendellian Princess @annas-hair-donut
(Anna/Kristoff; Kristoff & the Trolls, M)
The Arendellian princess will die in the eternal winter if she doesn’t stay the night in Kristoff’s cabin. All Kristoff has to do is get through one night without falling for her. It would be easier if there weren’t just one stack of hay, one blanket, and seven rock trolls living in his head who keep trying to fix him up with a woman who’s engaged to someone else. Or, an alternate meet cute where Anna wanders into Kristoff's cabin instead of Oaken's and the rock trolls live in Kristoff’s head instead of the Valley of the Living Rock.
Snowed In With Open Doors @chibiotaku4life
(Anna/Hans, G)
Hans has a special surprise for Anna this year when they are snowed in during her favorite holiday.
Under the Winter Moon @sunflowers-and-sandwiches
(Anna/Kristoff; Anna & Elsa, T)
Christmas can be a wonderful time of celebration and giving, but sometimes gifts aren’t the only things that come unwrapped. Will Elsa and Anna get their hearts’ true Christmas wishes?
Valiant, pungent, Santa baby! @annaorthenorthernlights
(Anna/Kristoff, E)
Kristoff has planned a special Christmas surprise for Anna...
You'll Never be Alone @flowerinherhair (@glassslippers-n-cowboyboots)
(Elsa/Hans, T)
Hans Westergaard is in a friendly little competition with Elsa Arendelle for the top spot in the law school class. Maybe Hans wants more than for things to be friendly between them though.
Beauty & the Beast
Hidden Desires Seeking Satisfaction @biblioscribler (@99goosebumps)
(Belle/Beast, E)
Belle plays a naughty game of hide and seek with Beast.
Something sweet @firawren
(Beast/Belle, M)
Belle challenges her grumpy roommate Adam to take part in her Christmas tradition of doing acts of service for people. He thinks it’s ridiculous. Everyone knows Christmas is just about selling shit and families fighting. But as he starts to give it a try, he discovers that maybe he kind of likes being nice. And maybe he really likes Belle, too.
Stories @flowerinherhair @glassslippers-n-cowboyboots)
(Adam/Belle, T)
Adam is risking being kicked out of his university program if he doesn't get at least a 75% on his final English essay. He needs a tutor and the one person who can help him is the beautiful, smart, intimidating girl who sits in the front row.
Frozen x BATB Crossovers
Behind the Curtain of Snowfall @chibiotaku4life
(Belle/Ryder Nattura, T)
Belle and Ryder have a terrifying run-in with wolves, and find what's really important in the winter woods.
Books of a Flurry @paigebstorey
(Belle & Elsa, G)
Belle works in the local bookstore cafe, a place of wonder and escape from the hustle and bustle of the world outside. This is the story of how she met her favorite customer.
The Icy Roses @magentacravat
(Belle & Elsa, G)
Belle has rose powers or even plant growth powers that, like Elsa's ice powers, are tied to love. The icy goddess finally meets her counterpart with the power of roses of love.
This year's batch is so great! Here's some quick stats from this year's exchange:
We had 3 Frozen x BATB crossover fics, including 2 Belle/Elsa and the very first fic in the Belle/Ryder Nattura tag. We need more of both ships!
We had 11 fanfics created by 9 writers and 1 piece of fan art, with @glassslippers-n-cowboyboots and @chibiotaku4life both writing pinch hits for the exchange! Thank you so much for showing a little extra love so everyone could participate!
@sunflowers-and-sandwiches created the beautiful banner for this year's exchange. Thank you so much for lending your talents!
@paigebstorey served as our co-mod this year. Thank you so much for your help! Hopefully she'll take over one day.
We had 5 NSFW fics and 8 SFW works this year.
I also want to apologize for posting this so late, especially since some of these are Christmas themed. It's 100% my fault so please go and read those fics anyway!
DM me or @glassslippers-n-cowboyboots if you're interested in joining the Frozen/BATB writing server, Frozen Hearts Worth Melting.
#frozen and batb yuletide#frozen#frozen fanfic#frozen fan art#beauty and the beast#batb#batb fanfic#batb fan art#fhwm#kristanna-days#frozen hearts worth melting
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Artair understands what is happening; this is much like their first meeting, actually. That night, Jonas couldn't tell him the truth of how he was feeling until he had played a game of truth or lies. So Artair just closes his eyes as Jonas touches his forehead, because this is the way Jonas knows to be forthright with him. He can't just say what's on his mind, he needs that safety net, that ability to pretend it was just a trick or a joke or a game, to be secure enough to say whatever it is. This really isn't any different.
Which of course, meant everything Jonas 'read' from his mind was--- pretty wrong. Or off-base. But it showed what Jonas thoguht right now. He felt like he made no sense, that Artair was frustrated with him, or at least ought to be. The party bit feels out of left field without a preamble, but he supposed he could see it being a worry he had, that he had ulterior motives for hanging out? But that was clearly there. And of course, it wouldn't be Jonas if there wasn't some kind of attempt to switch gears to something comedic, however brief.
He only confirms it when he drops the act. Artair brushes back his hair.
"I....think you need to workshop your act some more, J." Artair answers, in a softer voice. "Sorry to say, but you're no good at reading minds."
There's a crack of a smile, even if it sobers again. "I don't think you're as difficult as you might think. And I'm not upset at you. I just....don't really know how to help, because a lot of your struggle now.... It's not something I can help with." Artair takes a deeper breath, thinking how to continue. He does so simply by plowing forward, in a soft-spoken voice.
"Jonas, if you said yes because you want this time to be different, then.... you have to choose to make it different. Hiding out in the kitchen and 'watching everyone have their hallmark card moment', or overcompensating or drinking aren't.... those decisions are within your power. And they're not going to make anything different if that's what you usually do at these parties."
He leans back further in his chair. "This one isn't a Vegas 'show your face and schmooze' kind of thing as it is. But... I can't do anything to fix how you feel. Except tell you that choosing to hide away is a choice. And you can make it sound as inevitable as you want, but.... choosing to reach out, to cook some and then spend time with your friends and be out there with everyone else, is also a choice you can make. It can be different if you try to do things differently. But nobody else can do that for you. I mean-- I guess someone could pull you out of the kitchen, like I said before. But.... you're not powerless either. It's not set in stone to go one way. It is if you always do the same thing, I guess. But there isn't.... actually anything to stop you from switching things up." He shrugs.
"You have better friends, kinder ones, who aren't going to be mad at you for changing your mind. Hell, they'd understand that at this time of year plans can change pretty quick. And they care enough to not forget or neglect you. If they didn't come pull you in with them, it's probably because you'd say you're busy cooking or you'd look busy and they'd....believe you? Not realize you want to be a part of things but expect an invitation, probably. You have real friends now. And I wish you would allow yourself to believe that. Just enough to at least give them a chance to prove it." He touches Jonas' back very gingerly, offering a small squeeze, to try and comfort him through the extremity of his emotion.
Jonas went quiet again for a little bit, sorting through Artair's words in his head. Then he placed the bowl of frosting aside.
He moved back towards Artair, up close to him and leaned on the counter, studying the bowl and then up at Artair with a thoughtful expression on his face. He then he raised his hand, placing two fingers against Artair's temple and two against his own. He closed his eyes and appeared to concentrate for a moment.
" I'm going to read your mind right now, shh..." he intoned solemnly. " You're thinking...you're thinking mmmm...."
His fingers tap against Artair's temple lightly. " 'I don't understand this guy at all or why he thinks and acts the way he does. I'd like to help but it's really frustrating. Also he probably is going to try to convince me to go to this party we've been talking about even though I really don't want to go either. And what the fuck is he doing anyways trying to read my mind? Weirdo. Hmmm did I put enough vanilla extract in this cookie dough? ' "
He dropped his hands and turned around, leaning against the counter again. " I know you're not trying to make me feel guilty or shitty, Artair, " he said, scuffing his feet across the floor. " I know you wanna help me because you're good like that. And me being well...me I imagine sometimes it feels like banging your head against a brick wall. I...really don't know why I said yes to begin with. Maybe it was just because I really was afraid to say no or maybe I thought at the time 'hey maybe this can be different somehow' or...god who knows. I...don't know why I have a hard time trusting people, even those I know are my friends. Well...maybe I do but honestly all that would probably give a licensed therapist a headache to sort out. I think sometimes trying to figure out why I act like I do feels like a mental game of 52 card pickup. "
He abruptly reached out and took Artair's prosthetic hand in his, intertwining his fingers with his. " I'm sorry I'm like this when all you want to do is help me to really take a good hard look at what I'm doing. I'm really sorry that...that I'm so hard to be friends with, to even talk to really. Also uhm you don't have to worry. I'm not going to try to guilt-trip you into going to the party...I don't pull shit like that. " He bit his lip again.
" I wanted to check on you and make sure you were ok, Artair. " The words came from him with vehemence as he looked up at Artair. His brown eyes brimmed with emotion. He pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked hard.
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The mere knowledge that Mork was quick to tell Day about his history in jail once Day's mother brought it up but he has been skirting around his sister even though she is haunting the narrative is a constant reminder that Mork is helping Day handle all his worries and fears as they spill out while he keeps his heart guarded.
The way Mork reacted to Day locking himself in his room, the song on the radio in her car, and the way he physically fights for the people he loves are all shaped by his sister, but he refuses to share that pain with others until it bursts out when he least expects it.
So when Mork is forced to confront the ghost of his sister and the emotions he buried after spending all this time focusing on everyone else, what will be the catalyst? What will push Mork to finally reveal what he fears the most isn't just losing the ones he loves, but believing he wasn't there for them? That he didn't fight hard enough for them? That he is the reason he lost them?
#last twilight#last twilight the series#when will mork be forced to confront his sister?#when will he have to sit in his feelings?#he is so busy taking care of everyone else#that eventually he'll have to realize he can't keep running
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hold on im still too mad at this one fucking guest to take a nap i need to be a hater for a minute
#so when i say hell on earth kinda day i mean HELL ON EARTH kinda day#we had a large bus travel group from slovakia and then some other guests and it was almost a hundred people for breakfast#the bus group all came at the same time they descended onto the buffet like fucking seagulls i swearrrrr#and i divided tasks like i had two helpers with me in the kitchen so one guys job was just to gather dirty dishes + washing + taking clean#ones back out#and the other guy running around the buffet checking whats needed + restockjng the cold food + telling me all the hot stuff that needs#refilling. so i was in the kitchen making all the hot foods on constant rotation + chopping fruits and making smoothies and shit#and like we managed. WE MANAGED. the buffet was never even half empty at any point like yes there was always something that was empty but#dude who cares if the vanilla yoghurt is empty for 5 mins just pick something else.#and everyone was happy with their breakfast and really nice when asking if we have more of this and that etc and then there was one lady#this ONE FUCKINGGGG lady i swear i almost threw hands#she was complaining about everythinggggggggggg#about there not being any more fried eggs (already in the pan. done in 2 mins. but when helper nr2 told her that she said well why did we#run put in the first place) about the bread station being full of crumbs like girl its BREAD. my giy was running up and down the buffet#wiping it off and cleaning as fast as he could but if you allow people to cut their own bread there will be fucking crumbs. the fuck.#then she also didnt like how the butter looked bc OBV people kept using the butter and no matter how many times you go in and make it look#neat again as soon as the next person takes some it will not look picture perfect anymore#like while i was running back and forth restocking stuff with my arms full she TOOK MY ARM and pointed at things and was like#'this looks shit' so does your fucking face but you dont see me getting physical about it#and then when i came out with a big tray of fresh glasses and cups she pointed to where someone had spilled some water at the dispenser and#went 'there is water on the buffet' (far away from any food + literally its just water) and i said 'yes i know' and she goes 'well it doesnt#look very appealing. this is the worst buffet ive ever seen' and i go 'well surely you have seen how busy we are' and she FUCKING GOES#'i dont care. i paid money for this.' and i go 'well that makes two of us for not caring. we'll get to it when we have the time.' and she#said something else idk what bc i was finished with my task and had SHIT TO DO BC PPL WERE STILL EATING#so i just turned and ran back to the kitchen to keep working#actually i got back to the kitchen and said to guy nr1 'i need to go punch something' and then went out the back and started kicking the#shit out of a pile of paper boxes and THEN i continued working#and then she started TAKING PICTURES of everything she didnt like of the buffet like full offense i hope she gets hit by a bus#like with some people you can just tell they never worked a day in the service industry and no matter what you do theyll keep complaining#anyways :) tag limit. apparently. so its nap time now. honk shoo snork mimimi and so forth <3
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hm. hate everything and everyone in the house but my partner hours. feels bad.
#I AM FRUSTRATED WITH EVERYONE#Partner's youngest brother gets a pass he's like 10#but everyone else is driving me inSANE#like how. how was I the only one taking care of the dog for 36 hrs and within AN HOUR of them all getting home#(I was out in the garage)#they manage to ignore the dog so hard he pissed on the floor#and I would have checked on him sooner BUT#there were 4 entire people in the house at that time who could have done something#and now Aiden's dad is grumpy and I feel bad but I shouldn't#IT'S NOT EVEN MY DOG#guess they're too busy fucking....throwing out my shampoo and stealing my leftovers#losing it chat
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Megumi’s life in ur “tsumiki and megumi are seperated” AU is super fucked. Does Gojo secretly put him on supervillain watch. Does he try to give him the worst counselling anyone has ever seen.
Worse he keeps trying to become Megumi’s New Dad and Megumi cannot emphasize enough how much he does not want him to do this. Why does Gojo keep asking him to throw a baseball with him. Why does he keep trying to ruffle his hair.
#Gojo tried to give him The Talk and megumi immediately turned around and tried to walk into traffic#because he’s the funniest motherfucker that ever was in any universe#it’s important to note that Megumi’s life in that AU is super fucked but almost no one knows the scope of it#megumis taking that shit to his grave#hes finally in a better place and he really really does not want anyone else to know about what he considers a really humiliating experience#he hates feeling weak is the thing and no one has ever made him feel weak the way his family did#he didn’t have any power over his own life and it was /humiliating/#everyone else had normal childhoods and there he was being micromanaged so excessively that he wasn’t allowed to bathe and dress himself jn#until fucking high school. and even then it was only because the Zenin couldn’t hassle him at school#like it’s super obvious to everyone that the Zenin abused him but#no one knows just how bad it was#tsumiki knows he made some kind of deal so the Zenin would take care of her but he refuses to tell her what it was because he doesn’t want#to admit he tried to hurt himself. he doesn’t want her to know how bad it got.#maki knows better than anyone but 1) she doesn’t know most of it and 2) she’s not telling anyone about it either. Megumi’s her boy. she’s#not betraying his already fragile trust by airing out his business to other people#it’s sort of painfully obvious the Zenin used to beat him but no one talks about it. Megumi would shut down if anyone tries#like his life was sort of terrible and he didn’t see it getting better but somehow it did and he just wants the past to die#he wants what happened to be dead and buried and over and he knows it’s far from it but he just. he doesn’t want anyone to know.
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Love characterising nishikiyama as a booze hound drug hound meth addict high every day body mass 75% alcohol hands constantly shaking literally spacing out while driving fifty over the speed limit using elderly folk as speedbumps one hand on the wheel and one hand free to do more drugs and coming into work while functionally deaf and blind and he is still leagues more competent at his job than kiryu
#Yakuza loveblog#i dont talk about nishikiyama enough because im kazamapilled and hate him a little bit but im also kiryupilled and love him so much so you#see my problem? like i adore when nishiki is just. better in every way than kiryu and nobody ever sees that because theyre all too busy#sucking kiryus cock like okay nishiki had the rest of his life planned out when he was twenty and he was an extremely successful criminal#and getting himself noticed in many many circles then kiryu steps outside and gets into a street fight immediately and the entire tojo clan#surrounds him to throw cash at him like nishiki was actually doing so well for himself before his life was ruined. nothing is his fault#like i love just accepting that nishiki has one hell of a substance abuse problem and nobody cares enough about him to talk to him about it#and kiryu thinks its normal because hes the only one who can see that nishikis doing some great work out there so he must be doing#everything right. inconceivable that nishiki has any sort of ‘problem’ hes the real screwup and kiryu knows he makes life harder for himself#but he refuses to change because hes convinced that thats the only thing hes good at. like i believe that nishiki has a coke snorting#mechanic in game like harry db and without his coke buff he cant do as much damage like with it his output is on par with kiryus whos just#been blessed since birth by the violence gods. anyway kiryu is the only person in the world who thinks that nishiki is great do you get it#nishiki has lived his entire life in kiryus shadow and he doesnt care that kiryu has a natural charisma that he will never have. he has to#get out there every single day networking and socialising and hustling and nonstop landing interviews with cool magazines to get his name#out in the world while kazama takes kiryu out and drags him by the elbow to meet people like this is my son kiryu who has every disease and#everyone claps and cheers like i cannot stress enough how on top of the game nishiki is compared to kiryu. he has a car. kiryu doesnt even#have his own lighter. they are not on the same playing field and yet nishikis always trailing behind him because opportunity is always#knocking at kiryus doorstep whether he likes it or not and nishiki gets fed scraps and nothing else and hes the one with ambition he wants#the view on top and most importantly he wanted his brother there with him but nobody ... likes him ... nobody likes nishiki nobodys in his#corner he onky had kiryu and when he lost him it was quite literally him against the world. it always made me laugh how at the end of yk1#harukas paying her respects at nishikis grave when the only time he ever cared about her was because he wanted her little pendant and he#(actually fucked how alone nishiki was he didnt even have his own fucking men to rely on he was basically working alone with someone he knew#was using him like ??? he was fucking desperate) anyway i really love to think that kiryu being nishikis only friend and the last person in#the world who thought kindly of him (barring like ... kashiwagi) was grieving terribly over his death and haruka being a sensitive and#sweet little girl took the initiative to ask about nishiki and i think kiryu would tell her stories every night of the kind of stuff he and#nishikiyama would get up to when they were her age. he would tell her how amazing nishiki was and how he always looked out for him how he#took care of his sister and how he would always be the one to remind them of impending birthdays and the like. nishiki cared about the#little things .. and he made kiryu want to care about them too but theres just something different between them because nishikis always#been a better person than him .. and he would tell haruka in a voice that sounded like he was begging her to understand that nishiki wasnt a#bad person.. though he did bad things he was a good man and he still wishes with all his heart that he could have done more to save him ...
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